#oliver wood/percy weasley

[postsbycass]

Of Beasts and Bloodlines, Chapter 1

[ blurb ]

At Hogwarts, dark forces threaten student safety and the beloved Quidditch season. But does Oliver Wood know more than he is letting on?

Or…

Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley are forced to work together… but don’t worry, it’s fine, nothing will go horribly wrong. Probably.

AND FINALLY…START OF CHAPTER:

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Sunday, the 1st of September, 1991.

10:57.

Percy knows—he’s been checking the time every five seconds since he arrived at Platform 9¾

His mother was in the middle of her third round of goodbye hugs, and Percy endured it with minimal squirming. Well, sort of.

“You’ll do brilliantly, my darling,” Molly Weasley whispered fiercely, brushing imaginary dust off his robes.

“Yes, thank you, Mum,” Percy replied. “I have my list. Everything’s in order.”

Behind them, Fred and George were trying to attach a dungbomb to Ron’s trunk while Arthur distractedly checked his muggle watch. He’d been obsessed with that thing lately…

“Right, well, I need to be on board early,” Percy said, stepping back from the embrace. “Prefects are expected to—”

“Yes, yes,” Molly interrupted, tearful. “Go on then, darling. Make us proud.”

Mrs. Weasley kissed both his cheeks, twice, and Percy made a face of discomfort. She was halfway through waving off his siblings when he turned to Ginny, who was hovering nearby, red-eyed and fiercely trying not to sniffle.

“Make sure you keep your room tidy,” he said, adjusting his glasses in that precise way that meant he was nervous. “And help Mum out when you can. I won’t be there to remind you.”

Ginny huffed, scrubbing at her nose. “I know, Percy.”

“I mean it,” he added. “No leaving your socks under the bed. No scribbling on the walls with enchantments—”

“That was Fred and George!”

Percy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Regardless. Be good. You’re the only one left at home now.”

Ginny crossed her arms, lower lip trembling but held high. “I’m always good.”

“Right,” Percy said, softening just a little. “Well. Stay that way.”

There was a pause—awkward, uncertain—where it looked like he might hug her. But instead, he gave her a brisk nod and turned toward the train, adjusting his badge for what was the fourth time that morning.

10:59.

Inside the train, chaos reigned as usual. Students weaving through narrow corridors, trunks being hauled and dropped, owls shrieking from cages…but Percy only saw checkboxes. He mentally ticked off each item on his itinerary: arrive early, attend Prefect meeting, patrol the corridors, settle into routine.

The designated Prefect compartment was near the front of the train, away from the excited first years. Honestly? It felt like entering a different realm—one where everything was orderly, predictable, and most importantly, serious. The moment he stepped inside, he straightened his spine a little more, adjusted his badge a fifth time (if you can believe it), and took in the other students with the cool scrutiny of someone determined to be seen as an equal.

Penelope Clearwater was already there, seated near the window with her notes lined up in perfect little rows. Her penmanship was maddeningly neat. Ever letter is precisely angled, as though the parchment itself had demanded perfection. Percy, who prided himself on his own tidy scrawl, had the sudden urge to rewrite his entire planner. Dammit.

She glanced up. “Weasley.”

“Clearwater,” he replied smoothly, settling onto the seat opposite her.

The other Prefects trickled in, a mix of returning prefects and the new, 5th year ones, such as Percy himself. There was an informal sense of hierarchy already in place: the older students sat more comfortably, joking with each other, while the younger ones kept their backs straight and their voices quiet..

One Head Boy, a tall Hufflepuff named Davinder Patel, called the meeting to order. Percy immediately sat up even straighter, quill poised, planner open. This was it. The beginning of his prefectship.

“Alright, lads and lasses,” Davinder began, tone easy but commanding. “We’ve got a lot to cover before we get to the school, so let’s keep this moving. Patrol rotations, first-year guidance teams, curfew enforcement—you know the drill.”

Percy’s hand flew across his parchment, writing quite literally every word. His brow furrowed when someone next to him snorted at a joke Davinder made about how Slytherin Prefects always vanish right before trouble starts. Not everything had to be funny. This was important.

Penelope leaned in slightly at one point to clarify something under her breath—“It’s every third Thursday, not second”—and Percy felt a strange twinge of admiration and competition at once. She was sharp. Efficient. Possibly sharper than him.

He hated how much that thrilled him.

There was a brief discussion on disciplinary protocol, during which one of the sixth-year Gryffindor Prefects asked, “Do we have to write everything down, or is that just a Percy thing?”

Several students laughed.

Percy went bright red. “Keeping records is standard practice,” he muttered, not looking up.

Penelope cut in, of course. “Actually, it’s encouraged. The Head Girl said last year that thorough documentation helped when reporting repeat offenses.”

Percy glanced at her. She didn’t even look up from her planner. But he made a note to thank her later. Or maybe never. He hadn’t decided yet.

The meeting wrapped up after thirty minutes, with folders distributed, patrol partners assigned, and everything reviewed. Percy left the compartment feeling…different. Not relaxed, exactly. But he didn’t feel like an imposter. Not entirely. He had a role to play, a place where order mattered. And he planned to be excellent at it.

Even if it meant rewriting his to-do list three times before the train arrived.

11:30

After the meeting, Percy returned to a mostly empty compartment three cars down and settled in. He was only halfway through his notes on Prefect duties when the door slid open again and someone slouched in.

Oliver Wood. Percy’s Quidditch-obsessed dorm mate, for the last 4 years.

His hair looked like he’d run through a wind tunnel, and his uniform was only technically tidy—just enough to pass inspection, but clearly thrown on in a hurry. His eyes had that bleary, battle-worn look of someone who’d slept too little and thought too much.

“Morning,” Oliver grunted, tossing his bag onto the seat across from Percy and collapsing after it like a man who’d run from Hogsmeade to London.

Percy didn’t look up. “It’s nearly noon.”

Oliver waved that off. “Details.”

Fair enough. Percy carefully finished underlining something on his parchment, then frowned, realizing something.

“…Why are you even in here? This is the Prefect compartment.”

Oliver groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah. I know. I’ll leave in a bit. I just…I needed a place to breathe.”

Percy blinked. “Breathe?”

“It’s chaos out there,” Oliver muttered. “I can’t deal with it right now.”

He leaned back, eyes shut, jaw tight.

“Didn’t think the bloody drama would start before we even reached the school.”

Percy opened his mouth, probably to say something about rules or boundaries, but paused. Oliver looked… genuinely tired. Less of the usual firebrand and more like someone already bracing for impact.

“…You’re not supposed to be here,” Percy said, but with less bite than before.

“I know,” Oliver replied, not moving. “Just… give me ten minutes before I have to go back to pretending I have any control over that team.”

Percy sighed, eyes flicking down to his parchment. “Fine. But if Penelope comes back and sees you in here, I’m not defending you.”

Silence settled for a few moments, save for the scribble of Percy’s quill and Oliver’s muffled rummaging through his bag.

Then:

“They’ve gutted us,” Oliver said suddenly.

Percy blinked. “I beg your pardon? Gutted ‘us’ how, exactly?”

“Quidditch,” Oliver replied, rubbing his temples like a man plagued by strategy and ghosts. “Charlie’s gone. Charlie. That’s a massive hole in the lineup. We’ve no Seeker. Bell says Spinnet might not come back this year. Johnson wants to try Beater—she’s good, but we need her as Chaser, and we’ve already got the twins as Beaters. And I’ve just found out something. Something horrid. Bell’s crushing on a Slytherin.”

He said it like she’d announced her plans to join a magical terrorist organization.

Percy looked up, mildly alarmed. “Is that… dangerous, somehow?”

“No. Worse. It’s Quidditch incest.”

There was a beat of silence.

Percy blinked again. “I… don’t follow.”

Oliver flailed an arm. “She’s fraternizing with the enemy! It’s unnatural! Like—like a Bludger and a Snitch having tea together. You don’t like someone who’s actively trying to concuss you!”

From somewhere down the corridor, a voice shouted, “It’s not incest, Oliver!”

“Oh well that makes it okay then, I suppose???” Oliver yelled back. “Cancel the whole season! Bring cupcakes to the matches! Let’s all snog midair and call it a draw!”

He collapsed backward into his seat, looking personally betrayed by romance itself.

Percy slowly set down his quill and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You do realize,” he said carefully, “that liking a member of the opposing team isn’t a war crime.”

“Tell that to the scoreboard,” Oliver muttered. “Slytherin’s stacked this year. Flint’s still Captain, which means he’s still alive somehow, despite the rumors.”

Percy wasn’t going to ask about the rumors. That was a detour he didn’t have time for.

“Marcus Flint is an idiot,” Percy replied primly. “But he plays dirty. That makes him dangerous.”

Oliver pointed at Percy. “See? Exactly. Katie gets distracted by his teammate’s stupid cheekbones, and next thing you know, she’s missing passes and crying on the pitch.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Do you actually think that will happen, or are you just catastrophizing to avoid addressing your tactical gaps?”

Oliver stared at him.

“Who hurt you,” he whispered.

Percy flushed. “I’m just saying! Emotional distractions are manageable if you prioritize discipline. Personally, I avoid them altogether.”

Oliver pulled a face. “You say that like you’re proud.”

“I am,” Percy snapped. “It’s my first year as Prefect. I have a reputation to maintain. If you think I’m going to risk—”

“Oh Merlin, you are proud.”

They glared at each other across the compartment.

“Look,” Oliver sighed. “You do your little patrols and make your tidy little lists. That’s your Quidditch. This? This chaos? This is mine.”

He tapped his temple.

Percy, against his better judgment, cracked a smile.

“And here I thought your chaos lived entirely in your vocal cords, with how much you shout.”

Oliver grinned. “Only when Flint’s involved.”

They lapsed into silence again, this time companionable. Outside, the scenery blurred as the train rolled on. Percy resumed his notes with slightly less urgency. Oliver bounced his leg restlessly, as if powered by some sort of magical stimulant.

A knock on the compartment door made them both glance up. Penelope Clearwater slid it open, composed as ever.

“We’re arriving in ten,” she told Percy.

“Right.” Percy stood, smoothing his robes. “Best to start early.”

As he moved past Oliver, the other boy leaned back lazily.

“Try not to enforce any international treaties while you’re at it, Percy.”

7:30

The Great Hall glowed with warm candlelight, its enchanted ceiling mirroring the dusky September sky. The first years shuffled in behind the prefects, wide-eyed and whispering, the newness of it all clinging to them like static. Percy Weasley led the Gryffindors with the brisk, rigid efficiency of someone carrying several invisible clipboards. His badge gleamed just enough to make him sit straighter.

Behind him, the Gryffindor table buzzed—bets on House placements, heated recounts of train compartment drama, Fred and George laughing too hard to be innocent.

That was never a good sign.

Percy slid into a seat midway down the table, eyes sweeping the Hall with quiet precision. He was watching. That was his job now. He looked like a traumatized owl, but hey…that was kind of the point, right?

“Not bad crop this year,” Oliver murmured beside him, making Percy twitch. “Couple of them looked like they could handle a broom.”

“They’re eleven.”

“Exactly. Start ‘em young.”

Percy inhaled through his nose

As the Sorting began, Oliver leaned forward each time a name was called, whispering evaluations like a coach scouting talent at a toddler tryout.

“Too nervous. Nope. That one’s got a good center of gravity. Definitely fast.”

“You can’t tell that from their name.”

“Wrong. You just don’t have The Eye.”

“You do realize this is an ancient House tradition, not a recruitment drive.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Oliver grinned like this was the cleverest thing he’d said all year. “Ooh—Higgins! Percy, did you hear Higgins? He said he likes flying. That’s a good sign. Make a note.”

“I’m not writing that down.”

“You’re thinking about it, though.”

Unfortunately, he was.

The Sorting ended, the Hat’s last echoes fading into the high-arched ceiling. The first years found their places—some glowing with pride, others blinking in numb horror. A tearful, pureblood Hufflepuff was already regretting everything.

Percy scanned the Gryffindor additions, instinctively noting who might need help, and who might end up lighting a toilet on fire. And then, of course, there was the issue of Harry Potter.

Something about him made Percy uneasy—and he had a feeling this year was going to be long.

Very long.

The feast was already winding down. Pudding plates scraped clean, chatter rising like steam. Oliver Wood, meanwhile, was visibly vibrating beside Percy—restraining himself from leaping onto the table and announcing Quidditch tryouts to a room of half-conscious first years. No, genuinely. He’s legitimately trembling.

Percy sliced an apple and muttered, “If you say the word ‘practice’ before the first-years find their beds, I’m leaving.”

“I’m not,” Oliver lied.

His eyes flicked across the Hall—and locked.

“Flint’s looking over here again.”

Across the room, Marcus Flint leaned lazily against the Slytherin table, laughing at something Cassius Warrington had said. Broad-shouldered, square-jawed, and constantly five seconds from a brawl, he looked like he’d been carved out of granite and then left in the sun too long. His smile, when it landed on Oliver, was smug and just a touch too slow. He raised a hand in a mocking little wave.

Oliver scowled. “Gross. Smarmy git.”

“Focus,” Percy warned.

And then, as if summoned by chaos itself, Katie Bell leaned over the table. “Hey, Oliver? Is it true Montague made the Slytherin team this year?”

Oliver paused mid-glare. “Yeah. Why?”

Katie tilted her head, trying to be casual. “No reason. He just… looks taller.”

Percy choked on a bit of apple.

Oliver turned to her, aghast. “Taller?! What does that even—Katie, you can’t be serious—”

“I didn’t say I like him!” Katie insisted, her face pinking. “Just that he’s��� tall now. That’s all.”

Before Oliver could spiral further, Marcus Flint chose that exact moment to stroll over, looking like he owned the floorboards.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Evening, Wood. Congratulations on having the most open-minded Chaser lineup this year.”

He nodded to Katie with exaggerated charm. “Montague says hi, by the way.”

Katie nearly slid under the table. Oliver stood so fast his goblet went flying. “You! You stay the hell away from my Chasers, Flint!”

Flint gave a slow smirk. “Bit possessive, aren’t you? Or are you just jealous she noticed someone with actual talent—”

That was when Angelina Johnson calmly set down her spoon with a little clink.

She folded her arms. “Alright. That’s it.”

Oliver froze. As did Katie…

“Flint,” Angelina said, voice calm but cutting.

Marcus leaned in, cocky as ever. “Yeah, Johnson?”

She gestured to her dessert. “Your face is making my treacle tart taste worse.”

A hush swept down the table.

Flint’s eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she said, gesturing to her plate. “You show up, start strutting like a preening Hippogriff, and now all I taste is sweat and ego. Unkindly shove off.”

A snort of laughter came from somewhere near George. Someone at the Ravenclaw table winced sympathetically.

Flint’s smirk twitched. “Y’know what? Fine. Hope you lot enjoy losing this year. Especially with Wood playing captain and emotional support owl.”

He stormed off. Oliver opened his mouth to yell something—

Angelina didn’t even look up. “And you. Don’t.”

Oliver closed his mouth.

“If I hear one more word about Montague, Katie’s tragic preferences, or how Slytherins don’t blink like normal people, I will personally end this meal with violence.”

Oliver held up both hands in surrender.

Angelina picked up her fork again, peaceful as could be. “Thank you. Now let’s all try acting like normal people for five minutes so Dumbledore can give his speech without someone throwing a fork.”

Percy let out a breath.

Katie whispered, “All I said was that he’s tall.”

Angelina, still not looking up: “Katie, I swear to Merlin—”

The Great Hall fell into silence.

No one had seen Dumbledore enter. But suddenly, there he stood at the head table. Tall, robed, and far wearier than Percy remembered. His eyes swept across the Hall as he raised his hands for quiet.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice as calm as ever, but distant, too. “To another year at Hogwarts.”

The silence hung close.

“As always, we gather in the spirit of discovery, friendship, and growth. But this year…” he paused, and for a moment, Percy felt the air itself hold its breath, “this year may prove… complicated.”

Chairs creaked. A nervous laugh or two echoed.

“There are things that go unnoticed until they move. Shadows with no shape. Doors that do not open. Whispers you will not trace to any mouth. Should you encounter something unusual—do not dismiss it. Come forward. Tell someone.”

Oliver shifted beside Percy, brow furrowed.

“You may also find,” Dumbledore went on, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “that allies arise in unexpected places. Let that not be a cause for fear. Hogwarts stands when we stand together.”

He raised his goblet.

“To unity. To vigilance. And to another year of magic.”

The hall clapped, quiet and uneven. Percy looked across to Penelope, who met his eyes with a frown.

Something was off.

He looked back toward the staff table—noticed McGonagall whispering something to Flitwick, Snape’s arms crossed tighter than usual, even Hagrid fidgeting. Dumbledore, now seated, wasn’t touching his food. He was staring into nothing with a distant, unreadable look.

It wasn’t just nerves. It wasn’t just a new term.

Something was wrong. Percy didn’t know what, but the air had changed.

Even the ceiling—normally enchanted to look like the sky—looked different now. Too still. Too dark. Like it was watching back, almost.

Beside him, Oliver swallowed, then leaned in and whispered, “This is how it always starts in those horror novels my cousin Victoria reads. Next thing you know, someone’s broom tries to kill them.”

Percy stared at him. “…What?”

Oliver shrugged, already grabbing a final roll off the platter. “I’m just saying. If my broom starts growling or developing opinions, I’m not flying it.”

He took a bite, thoughtful. “Though, I dunno. If it helps block Slytherin goals, might be worth the risk.”

Percy sighed through his nose. “You’re going to die first.”

“Yeah, but it’d be in a wicked way. Probably during a dive.”

[word count: 3,135]

authors note -> I’M SORRY. I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR LIKE, EVER. I KNOW I SAID I’D PUT THIS OUT IN JANUARY (twas all a lie) BUT IT IS HERE NOW !!! ENJOY. ALSO TAGGING MY BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL SCRUMPTIOUS DELIGHTFUL BESTIE BOO WHO HAS ENDURED MY RANTING AND RAVING THESE PAST MONTHS. @amethystandemma

[mxbirdman]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Penelope Clearwater & Percy Weasley, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Percy Weasley & Weasley Family, mentioned Characters: Percy Weasley, Oliver Wood, Penelope Clearwater Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-War, Fluff, Introspection, Memory Loss, Obliviate | Memory Charm (Harry Potter), Post-Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Percy Weasley, Past Penelope Clearwater/Percy Weasley, Percy Weasley Needs a Hug, Angst, hurt for most of it, comfort at the end, did not listen to mitski while writing this surprisingly, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

Percy Weasley has memory problems.

---

So. I'm not sure where this came from, but I went down a rabbit hole of Percy Weasley and I desperately needed to write.

[oncethrown]

Steganography Cut

"Okay," Ron sighed. "I'm just going to say it. I'm not convinced about Percy."

"Convinced?" Bill asked. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"He shows up at the 11th hour saying he knows Aberforth— "

"He was in danger," Charlie cut in. "They were arresting dissenters, and he didn't have anywhere to go, what did you want him to do?"

"Saying he knows Aberforth," Ron continues. "Mum let him bring Oliver Wood back to the burrow with him for some reason, and now they've been holed up together since the end of the battle. I didn't even realize they knew each other."

Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but Bill raises a hand to cut her off. "No. We're not going to do this. The war is over. We're not digging out spies and detractors any more. Percy is back now. None of of us know what he's been through, he was there when Fred," Bill stumbles over his brother's name and the temperature around the table drops several degrees. He clears his throat. "He was there when Fred died. People grieve in their own ways and shit like this- Ronald- is not making easier for him to be with us instead of 'holed up with Oliver,'" Bill huffed. "Besides, according to Oliver, Percy has been working against the ministry for years. Oliver says he saved a ton of people and he knows where all the bodies are buried "

"When did you even get a chance to talk to Oliver? When did you get him away from Percy? What are they always doing up there?" Ron jabs his finger toward the house, encompassing the window to the twins old room, where Percy and Oliver have spent the majority of the last few days, only surfacing to sit silently through meals or walk out to the old paddock in the evenings and come back red eyed and loose limbed. 

"I think they are just boyfriends," Fleur says with a shrug. Everyone around the table stills so much they may have turned to stone. She looks around at all of them, then to Bill. "Is this not the word? Ills sont les petit amis, non? Les copains?" She looks around at the assembled Weasley's, Hermione and Harry. "Lovers. What did I say? What does 'boyfriends' mean?"

"Lovers?" Ginny repeats, horrified. 

Charlie and Bill exchange a look. Charlie shakes his head. "Oliver can't be… surely. He's a professional Quidditch player."

"Oui," Fleur insists. "Bill, when you were attacked- Percy came to see you after Dumbly-dorrs funeral. You were not awake, of course. We talked a little, and I left him to sit with you. 'e was so sad, I thought I would bring him something, a tea. When I came back, Oliver was there, and they were in a…" She looks up at the sunset kissed sky, around the table, then back to Bill "ils se tenaient l'un l'autre. Romantique."

"I understood romantic," Harry said. "What did she say?"

"She said they were holding each other." 

"And you're just bringing this up now?" Ginny demands.

Fleur straightened. "I 'ave barely spoken to Percy! I do not know Oliver! I am supposed to know this is a surprise?"

The back door creaks open and they all freeze again as Percy and Oliver step out into the garden. Hermione lets out a peel of fake laughter, realizes its the first laugh there has been in the house since the battle and turns it into a cough. Percy and Oliver exchange a look and walk self consciously toward the table. Percy executes an awkward wave. Oliver seems to be hiding something behind his back.

"Hey,' Percy says. "Everyone. What's up out here?"

"Just a nice night," Bill says. "Hard to be in the house, and…"

"You're welcome to join us," Charlie says. "If you weren't… doing something else."

Oliver looks at Percy and shrugs. "Uh, no. We were just going to get some fresh air and uh," he pulls a bottle of wine from behind his back. "Alcohol. But… we can.." He looks at Percy again and sets the bottle on the table "Break out the old refillable charm and split it, uh. Nine ways."

"Ginny's underage," Charlie says.

"No I'm not," Ginny argues. 

"Yeah. Yes," Bill says, standing and pulling his wand out. "Stay. Come talk with us." He waves his wand and everyone is so busy watching him conjure a chair that they miss the back door opening again. 

"What's everyone up to out here?"

In a night of stops and starts, they have still not frozen like this. Slowly, they all turn to George. 

He swallows deeply, looks back at all of them, and lets a slow, hesitant smile roll over his face. "You all look like you've seen a ghost." 

No one laughs. No one moves. 

George nods. He leans over, grabs the wine bottle off the table. "Percy, can we talk?"

"Uh… of course. Yes." Percy says. George nods again and starts to walk away. Percy rocks strangely on the spot, as though cutting off a movement, touches Oliver's back, and scurries after George. 

Oliver watches them go, then settles himself down into one of the vacant chairs. 

They stare at each other in silence for a moment. 

"I will go get some more alcohol," Charlie volunteers. 

"Yes, god, yes, please do that,"Bill agrees. 

[iamnmbr3]

1/4/11/14 for Oliver Wood & Percy Weasley

This is not a ship I've really thought about much but I'll give it a shot.

1. Which one is the better cook

Oliver is very much of the food is fuel mindset. Percy claims he is too but having grown up with Molly as his mother he actually loves a good meal. He's the better of the two at cooking because he had to look after his younger siblings enough that he learned to make a few simple favorites (though they'd all always complain that he wasn't doing it as well as their mother).

4. What they do on date night

Draw up elaborate plans for badly needed reforms to the Department of Magical Games and Sports while their food gets cold.

11. What their first impression was of each other

"He seems nice enough" --> "oh Merlin he's unhinged" --> "but in an endearing way" --> "Maybe I'm a bit unhinged too" --> "Maybe we can be unhinged together."

14. What nicknames they call each other

Neither of them are big on nicknames.

Send me a ship and a number

[louff4tw]

This sound but it’s Oliver as Charlotte and Percy as the king

[mssorceressupreme]

Our Deal | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x hufflepuff!reader (works for any house really, except gryffindor for story purpose)

Summary: stuck in detention with Fred for a prank you never did, grants you the deal of a lifetime. Fred would help you get with your crush, Oliver Wood, and you get him with his, Gabriella Moon, in time for the Yule Ball. Though, as you spend more time teaching each other how to "flirt", complicated feelings start to arise.

Warnings/content: hufflepuff!reader, subtle enemies to lovers, mutual pining, jealous!fred, protective!fred, jealous!reader, mentions of alcohol, parties, quidditch injury, injured!reader, tension, flirting, kissing, teasing, Yule Ball

Wordcount: 6.8k (got carried away and kinda wrote a mini fic 😭🙏🏼)

———

“This is entirely your fault,” you snapped, bending down to scrub at the sticky residue on the stone floor. “I had nothing to do with that prank.” The potions storage room air reeked with the scent of something foul, probably from whatever concoction had spilled from the shelves earlier today. All thanks to that stupid explosion caused by none other than the twin's prank just outside the room.

You gestured around at the remnants of the prank—green goo still dripping from the shelves, a set of abandoned dungbombs rolling near the base of Snape’s desk. Crossing your arms, you huffed as you glared at Fred, who was leaning against the wall with that insufferable smirk, clearly enjoying your misery.

Fred chuckled, tossing a sponge into the air and catching it lazily. “Yeah, yeah, tell that to Snape. You just happened to be there, hands covered in fluorescent goo, looking guilty as hell, which might I add, doesn't help with your case.”

“I was cleaning up the mess, Fred, not causing it” you gritted out, shoving the bucket closer to him. “Unlike you, who just stood there laughing while George ran for his life.”

Fred grinned, bending down to soak his sponge in water. “Ah, Georgie. Quick on his feet, that one. Maybe you should take notes for next time.”

Lucky for George, he managed to escape Snape's fury, leaving the stupendous detention task of reorganising and cleaning the entire potions storage room to the two of you.

“There won’t be a next time because I don’t do pranks,” you retorted. “Unlike some people.”

Fred gasped, pausing from squeezing the water out of his sponge, “No pranks? No mischief? Merlin, what a dull existence.”

You scowled, but your lips twitched. “Not all of us live for chaos.”

“You sure? Because you seem to enjoy my company a lot for someone who claims to be innocent,” he teased, turning his attention to scrubbing the fluorescent goop from the floor.

“Oh, shush If I weren’t such a good person, I’d leave this room right now and tell Snape about the other pranks you and George are planning.”

Fred turned to face you, holding back a doubtful laugh as he momentarily stopped scrubbing, “You wouldn't dare, Y/L/N.” his tone sprinkled with a hint of mockery.

You rolled your eyes, dipping your sponge back into the murky water. “Unfortunately you're right.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Because you secretly like me?”

“Because I’m not a snitch,” you corrected smugly. ____ An hour later, you were balancing on a stool, reaching for a jar of pickled salamander eyes while Fred stacked vials below. You glanced down at him, waiting for him to pass you more vials for the higher shelves.

A small played on his lips, Fred exhaled softly before handing you another vial, “Alright, since I do feel a tiny bit bad about dragging you into this, I’ll make it up to you.”

You raised your brow suspiciously. “How?”

Fred’s smirk returned. “The Yule Ball's coming up, right? I’ll help you get with whoever you want."

"In return, you promise not to rat me out about, oh, I don’t know, the prank in the Great Hall last week. Or the one from two days ago in McGonagall’s class. Or the—" He continued but you interjected swiftly.

Your eyes widened slightly, finally registering what he just offered. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, placing another vial on one of the lower shelves. “You name the bloke, and I’ll be your personal matchmaking genius.”

"You're kidding." You pressed your lips together, skeptical.

"Am not." He affirmed, "Go on, the look on your face says you have someone in mind Y/N."

A slow grin spread across your face, but you hesitated. "No one in mind." You shrugged.

Fred folded his arms, eyeing you up and down before tilting his head to the side, "I'm sensing...someone....taller than you?" Yeah, no kidding.

Without thinking you retorted, "Yeah obviously he's taller than me." Your hands flew at the speed of light to cover your mouth while turning to face away from Fred.

You hoped to hide your flushness, but you ended up losing your balance on the stool in the process. "Merlin, don't tell me you're quite literally falling for him." Fred quickly held your waist, steadying you before you could meet the ground. You grabbed his shoulder for support before adjusting yourself and returning to your respective task of arranging the vials on the upper shelf. You hadn't planned on telling anyone about your secret crush on Oliver Wood, but here you were, letting these words slip aimlessly out of your mouth.

Fred took your silence as an answer, curiosity lingering in the air.

"Ah, so there is someone on your mind." He pressed, "And who’s the unfortunate sod you fancy?"

You paused, feeling the heat of his gaze from below, "Oliver Wood..." You mumbled all too softly; even the house elves, with their sharp hearing abilities, wouldn't be able to decipher what you said.

Exhaling, you got down from the stool, standing in front of Fred and avoiding eye contact at all costs. He took slow tentative steps toward you, bending down to your level so he could hear, "Come again?" You could feel his breath on your skin.

Your eyes found his, not registering how close he was, "Oliver Wood." Your face tainted a light shade of red.

Fred choked on air, a loud chortle escaped him, "Wood? The Gryffindor Captain, Mr. ‘Quidditch is My One True Love’?"

"Shut up," you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks. You placed a hand on his chest and shoved him away playfully, "Don't tell anyone! I'll vanish off the face of this earth if you do."

Fred laughed, shaking his head. “Blimey, you’ve got high standards.”

“I barely know him, but he’s just—” You sighed wistfully. “He’s so kind and driven and—”

“Obsessed with Quidditch?” Fred interjected.

“Yes, but in a dedicated way,” you said dreamily.

Fred snorted. "Merlin, alright, fine. I’ll help you. But just know that if I have to listen to you swoon over Wood for the next month, you owe me more than just detention duty."

You beamed. “Deal.”

“Good. Because I might need your help, too.”

You tilted your head, furrowing your brows. “With what?”

Fred leaned forward conspiratorially. “Gabriella Moon.”

"Gabriella? As in, my Gabriella?"

"I didn’t realise you had ownership over her," Fred mused. "But yes, your Hufflepuff friend."

You nodded, grinning. "Oh for sure, I can definitely help with that. Piece of cake."

Gabriella was in your house, a sweet and kind Hufflepuff, and you got along with her well. Setting her up with Fred should be a simple, easy, task.

"Alright, Weasley. You’ve got yourself a deal."

Fred held out his hand, and you shook it—sealing a pact neither of you realised would completely change everything.

"Our deal." He affirmed.

____ The deal meant spending more time together. At first, it was simple things—giving each other tips, practicing flirting, and being seen together enough to spark curiosity.

One evening in the Great Hall, Fred joined you at the Hufflepuff table. Your friends sat with you, but you were so engrossed with Fred, that everyone seemed to disappear into the background, feeling as though it was only the two of you in the hall.

Fred leaned in with a smirk after placing a dinner roll on your plate, which he knew you enjoyed pairing with butter. "Alright, say I’m Oliver—how would you charm me?"

You exhaled dramatically. "Fine." You turned to him, putting on your best smile. "Hey, Oliver, fancy seeing you here. Do you always look this good after practice?"

Fred chortled, nearly choking on his pumpkin juice. "Merlin’s beard, that was atrocious."

You gasped, smacking his arm. "It was not!"

"It was!" Fred wheezed, clutching his chest. "Try again, but maybe without sounding like a lovesick poet."

You scowled but tried again. "Alright, then. How about this—‘I hear you’re the best Keeper Hogwarts has ever had. Think you could keep me?’"

Fred blinked, then groaned throwing his head back. "Oh, that was painful."

You shoved his shoulder, laughing. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," he teased, winking. "Now, do I get a turn?"

"Go on, then," you challenged, crossing your arms.

Fred turned, propped his elbow on the table, and smirked. "Hey, Gabriella," he began, "are you a Snitch? Because you’ve got me chasing after you."

You stared at him, face scrunching up in disgust. It was as though you had just witnessed a crime.

He wiggled his eyebrows before taking a mouthful of peas, chewing as he awaited your response.

You burst out laughing. "Oh, that’s horrible. No wonder you need my help."

Fred's mouth dropped, "Excuse you, that was a good chat up. Thank you very much."

You both laughed, completely unaware of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watching the way you two bantered—how Fred’s eyes softened when you laughed, how you bit your lip when he grinned. You weren't super close to Fred, just casual friends, but you had to admit, these few recent days had you seeing him in a different light, he was more carefree around you, cheery, and you felt yourself coming out of your shell, all thanks to him.

You were confident in approaching Oliver now, and all the more excited for it.

____

"No, no! Merlin, Fred, you're going to scare the girl away if you look at her like that." The next few days were all about perfecting your tactics, anything to impress your targets, of course.

"Like what?" He sat beside you on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. It was a Saturday, and naturally, most students were either at Hogsmeade, outside, or sleeping in, leaving most of the space to the two of you.

"Again! Again..." You waved your hands, ushering him off the couch. "Pretend I'm Gabriella, and I'm sitting on a bench somewhere nice. You've just walked into the place, and you see her."

Fred straightened his shirt, retreating from the couch, before strolling over to you again, a devious smirk painted on his face, his hair slightly tousled and messy. He held his chin up high, and his arms swayed beside his lanky figure as he approached you.

"Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!" He beamed, pretending to act out the scenario.

"Wrong." You corrected, "Not Y/N, Gabriella." You flashed your brows, and he exhaled, walking away to take his place once again.

He strolled to you, once more, "Gabriella! Haven't seen you in a bit! What brings you here?"

You nodded, indicating he was doing a decent job so far, encouraging him to continue.

Fred plopped himself beside you, your knees were touching and he extended an arm around you.

"I"m good! This is my favourite place to unwind actually." You fake-mocked Gabriella, pretending to be her in this situation.

"Well, then I guess you'll be seeing me here more often, darling." Fred leaned in, you could feel his body heat against you, and you blinked before shaking your head.

"Darling? You barely know the girl!" You chuckled, and Fred's eyes glinted with awe as you threw your head back, he had not realised it, but your laughter ignited a warm honey like feeling in his chest.

"Fine, what about love? Baby? Babe?"

"No no, save those for when you're actually with her, but I suppose 'love' is a good place to start."

"Alright, love." He teased, and you playfully smacked him but an idea popped into your head, and immediately, you got into character.

"If you say so, Oliver." You pretended to act as if you would in this scenario with Wood.

Fred, still seated next to you, glanced down from your eyes to your lips.

You leaned in, tilting your head and gazing from his left eye, to his lips, then to his right eye. You smiled sweetly, blinking slowly as you gave Fred your full attention, staring at him with doe-like eyes, "So, Oliver, how was quidditch practice today?"

Fred gulped, eyes blinking rapidly as he coughed, "G-Good."

You smirked, lowering your voice, "I'm sure it would've been better if I was there with you." You bit your lip as you glanced at his lips.

"You should come to the next one." Fred responded softly, smiling as he leaned in, ever so slightly, one arm still wrapped around you, and you were fully within his proximity.

You could feel your breaths against each other; his scent crept its way to your nose, and you scrunched it. He smelt like fresh grass on a hot summer's day and clean laundry in the fresh breeze, something you'd never noticed before.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, but the portrait door clicked open, and some students returned from their trip to Hogsmeade.

"That was, uh, something I'd say if I was with Oliver." You quickly dismissed this, leaning back to a comfortable distance. Fred cleared his throat, and removed his arm, "Yeah, that was good. See, told you I was a good teacher."

You scoffed, "You? Please that one was all me."

"S'pose you are getting pretty good at this, annoyingly so, in fact." He hummed and you mouth dropped slightly,

"Is that a compliment?" You beamed, wiggling a happy dance in your seat.

"Don't get too cocky Y/L/N, I have yet to see you interact with him." Fred laughed, attempting to hide his awe for your little dance.

____

Days passed, and you found yourself spending an increasing amount of time at the Gryffindor table, supposedly to get closer to Oliver. But somehow, you always ended up next to Fred, bickering, laughing, sharing food.

People noticed—Hermione tried, and failed miserably to hide her excitement for you two, George outright smirked, Ginny started whispering to Harry, smiling at the thought of the two of you, Ron was amused at how Fred could pull someone as gorgeous as you.

Only you and Fred knew about your deal, to them, they saw this as a newfound friendship, alliance, even...romance? Hermione seems to think the latter describes your relationship perfectly.

You brushed it off, for you knew that you were only helping each other, and once the deal was over, you would go back to normal.

The topic of quidditch was no foreign topic at this table, Harry making remarks about how he'll confront Malfoy, Angelina and George talking about the Nimbus 2000, Oliver and Fred discussing a new game plan.

"Hey Y/N, why don't you come watch us at practice today after lunch, it'll be fun." Oliver invited you, and you blinked in surprise.

"I'd love to!" You chimed, "How could I pass on a chance to support the best quidditch team at Hogwarts?"

Oliver beamed, laughing softly at your enthusiasm, "Ooh careful now, don't want Hufflepuff's quidditch team to hear that now do ya?"

"Consider me an ally of both teams." You chuckled, and he grinned, smiling warmly at you.

"Surely you become an honourary Gryffindor for the day?" Oliver raised his brow, before taking a bite of his toast.

"Won't miss me too much when I switch back to Hufflepuff would you?" You teased.

"Then I'll just ask you to join Gryffindor again."

You were about to pour yourself some orange juice, but Oliver moved at the speed of light, "Here, let me." He poured a glass for you, then one for himself. "Fred? Some for you too?"

"Nah mate, I'm pretty full."

Fred silently watched the two of you interact; a part of him was happy and proud, seeing the way you effortlessly interacted with Oliver, but there was this foreign feeling inside him. Like a splinter poking him from the inside, if that were even possible.

His eyes darted from you, to Oliver, then back to you.

Each time you paid attention to Oliver, laughed at his quips, his charm, a small part of Fred wanted that attention from you, again.

He wanted you for himself.

Fred shook his head, dismissing all these thoughts, where were they even coming from? He knew one thing thought, he was being silly thinking about you like this.

However, Gabriella was starting to become a long-forgotten thought.

The only person consuming his mind lately, seemed to be…you.

Fred exhaled, taking a sip of his water, hoping to refresh his mind from whatever nonsense he thought about.

It didn’t matter anyway because after this deal was done, and you were happy with Oliver, that was it. You’d go your separate ways, well, mostly. That was, after all, the whole point of you becoming close with Fred.

"By the way, is it alright if I bring a friend?" You asked Oliver.

"The more the merrier!"

"I'll bring Gabriella." You whispered trying to contain your excitement, nudging Fred who was seated beside you.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts, "Oh, yeah, that'll be great."

____

Later that afternoon, you sat in the stands with Hermione, Gabriella, and Ginny, watching Gryffindor’s practice. Oliver was in his element—focused, determined, calling out plays.

Your eyes were glued to him, who looked impossibly handsome as he soared through the air, his hair ruffled by the wind. He turned, caught your gaze, and waved with that signature kind smile of his.

Your heart stuttered and a faint blush crept on your cheeks, moments like this only pulled you in deeper. Part of the reason you fell for him, was that one day you were lost and he helped you find your way to class. Being younger than him, he felt the duty to lookout for his juniors, he was patient, kind and made you feel right at home when you felt lost. His kindness was just so endearing.

"Go Oli!!" You cheered, and Oliver waved at you again.

"Nicknames already?" Hermione, seated next to you, smiled knowingly and you chuckled as a response.

"Fred looks really determined today, isn't that a good look on him?" You nudged Gabriella, hoping to steer her focus onto Fred.

"Yeah, he does look kinda cute." She agreed, grinning up at him. "Also, thanks for inviting me Y/N, this is really nice." Gabriella turned to you, smiling sweetly. She was a kind soul, much like you, always helping others and making sure everyone felt comfortable. Of course guys would fancy her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Fred. His red hair caught the sunlight in a way that made it seem almost golden, his strong frame relaxed but still commanding attention as he sat on his broomstick, laughing with George.

There was something about him today—maybe the way his sleeves were rolled up, or the effortless confidence he carried. And for some reason, your found your heartpace steadily increasing as you continued observing him.

No. No, this was about Oliver. You shook the thought away and focused on the Gryffindor Captain instead.

Moments later, Angelina, Oliver, and Katie flew over, beaming. “Oi, you lot! Come play a friendly match with us!” Angelina called, gesturing eagerly.

You hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know... I’m not really—”

“Come on, it’s just for fun,” Oliver encouraged, flying closer. His eyes met yours, playful and inviting. You wanted to impress him. So, against better judgment, you stood and dusted off your robes. The four of you made your way down to the grassy field, and used some spare brooms.

Ginny, Hermione, and Gabriella exchanged amused glances but joined in as well.

You borrowed a broomstick—the nearest one, which happened to be Fred’s. "Can I?" You smirked, turning to Fred who took a quick break, reaching into his bag for his bottle.

"Yeah yeah, if you break it I'll crack your head." Fred teased, before chugging his water. With that, you kicked off the ground, feeling the rush of wind as you soared into the air.

The game was lighthearted, filled with teasing and playful competition. You and Oliver found yourselves in the same airspace often, exchanging witty remarks and laughter.

It felt effortless, easy. Below, Fred stood watching, arms crossed, watching in amusement as you 'bonded' with Oliver. Though you weren't sure if amusement, was the right word to use here, seeing how he kept tapping his foot.

“You’re getting the hang of this!” Oliver grinned, flying beside you.

“I’m just trying to keep up,” you joked, glancing at him.

So caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice the Bludger hurtling toward you until it slammed into your shoulder with brutal force.

Pain exploded through your arm, and your broom wobbled violently beneath you. You gasped as your grip faltered, and before you knew it, you were falling.

The ground rushed toward you, and you thudded harshly on the grassy patch. Ouch.

Oliver flew down hastily, but before he could reach you, Fred was already there, kneeling beside you, face pale.

“Are you daft?” he scolded, voice tight. “Didn’t you see that Bludger?”

You winced, trying to sit up. “It wasn’t that bad—”

“Not that bad? You fell from twenty feet up,” he snapped, his hands hovering over you like he didn’t know where to touch in case he hurt you further. “You’re going to the hospital wing.”

Oliver finally reached you, eyes filled with concern. “You alright?” He looked from you to Fred, who was still kneeling beside you, jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but Fred wasn’t having it. Before you could protest, he scooped you up effortlessly, ignoring your weak protests.

“You’re being overdramatic,” you huffed, but your heart betrayed you, beating erratically against your ribs as Fred carried you toward the castle.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he shot back, striding forward without a second glance at Oliver, who remained standing on the pitch, watching with an expression that hinted he had figured something out.

He observed as Fred held you close, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, "Hm." He was so sure that you and Fred were just friends, but the way Fred acted today made Oliver doubtful.

The others stayed back to practice, you assured them that you were fine, and that there was no need to come. ___

Madam Pomfrey fussed over you, muttering about reckless students and dangerous sports as she poured a bitter healing potion down your throat. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a full-speed hit,” she chided, waving her wand to mend the bruising on your shoulder.

Fred stayed beside you the whole time, leaning against the infirmary bed with that signature mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “So, you were trying to impress Wood, huh?” he mused, arching a brow.

“Shut up,” you muttered, cheeks warming.

“Not my fault you nearly died doing it,” he teased, nudging you playfully. “Maybe I should give you some lessons on how to survive Quidditch.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I should give you lessons on how to stop being so intolerable.”

Fred smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You laughed, the earlier pain fading into the background as the two of you fell into easy conversation.

He stayed with you the rest of the day until you felt better enough to head back to your dorm.

____

The next day, the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match had the entire school buzzing with chatter. The game was brutal, with Slytherin coming in close, though Gryffindor still came out victorious.

The moment the Snitch was caught, the stands erupted into cheers, the players celebrating mid-air before descending to the field. You watched Fred among them, his face lit up with triumph. When his eyes met yours, something unspoken passed between you.

And you weren’t so sure anymore if Oliver Wood was the one making your heart race.

You, Hermione and Gabriella made your way down to the team, "You guys smashed it out there." You chimed, clapping for the them.

"Couldn't have done it without your support." Oliver walked over to you, hi-fiving your hand which you extended for him.

"You played amazingly, especially in the second half! Fred—the way you hit the bludger right before it touched the ground, just, wow!" Gabriella beamed, waving her hands around expressively.

"Hey, all in a day's work." Fred expressed, cockily brushing his hands together which earned a giggle from Gabriella.

"You know, you should come to the party tonight, hosted by yours truly." Fred shuffled closer to Gabriella, extended his arms as he gave himself credit for hosting the party.

"More of a team effort actually, he just talks too much." Lee quipped, "But yeah, you guys should come. Gryffindor common room, at 7."

"We'll be there." Gabriella replied for the two of you, twirling her hair as she smiled sweetly at Fred.

You were happy for her truly, especially Fred, who was grinning back at her, engaging in a new conversation about what'll transpire at the party tonight.

You were happy. Yes, you were.

But, does someone who is supposedly happy for their friend, feel a pit in their stomach every time they watch them with their respective crush?

____

"How do I look?" Gabriella asked, gesturing to her outfit, fitted flared blue jeans and a yellow peplum top, with a yellow bow to accessorise.

"You look stunning, Fred's going to love it!" You chimed, "Oh wait, here-" You helped straightened her bow from the behind, "Perfect."

"Look who's talking, Oliver's going to swoon over you when he sees you in that black dress!" Gabriella stood beside you, looking in the full body mirror, shaking with excitement for the party.

The two of you made your way over to the Gryffindor common room, met with a few ravenclaws and fellow hufflepuffs by the portrait entrance.

It was no surprise that the common room was alive with celebration and merriment. You and Gabriella stepped inside, immediately greeted by George and Lee, who enthusiastically showed you around.

"Welcome welcome! You guys look great!" Lee hyped you two up, always the enhusiast.

Laughter, chatter, and the warmth of victory filled the space. As your eyes scanned the room, they landed on Fred and Oliver by the fireplace, who spotted you and beckoned you both over with bright grins.

After a while of lively conversation in the group, you and Gabriella naturally parted ways—her heading away to the couch with Fred while Oliver guided you to where his friends stood.

You chatted and laughed, but something felt off. Your attention was divided, and no matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver and his friends, your eyes kept finding Fred’s.

Across the room, you noticed his eyes constantly meeting yours, just as much as yours longed to find his.

You were snapped out of your gaze when one of Oliver’s friends playfully nudged you, shoving a drink into your hands. “Come on, have some firewhiskey on me! You’ve got to celebrate properly!”

"Oh wow, where'd you manage to get that?" You asked, curious as to how he managed to sneak in alcohol. Granted, he was older than you so it was fair to assume he was more daring when it came to liquor.

"I have my sources." The guy wiggled his brows, "Come on, drink up Y/N, join us!"

You hesitated. “I’m good, really.”

“Oh, don’t be a buzzkill. Just one!” He pushed again, grinning as if it were a challenge.

“I said I don’t want to.” Your voice was firmer now, but he rolled his eyes.

Oliver sensed your discomfort and interjected swiftly, “Knock it off Felix. She doesn’t have to drink if she doesn’t want to.”

"Alright alright, you're just a wee girl after all innit." Felix chuckled, "More for me then."

Wee girl? Merlin, who does he think he is? You scoffed to yourself, shifting closer to Oliver.

Still, the group laughed it off, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable, wanting to be anywhere but here. You excused yourself quickly, heading upstairs to a quieter gryffindor study room.

The party noise faded, and you sank into one of the couches, taking a deep breath.

A knock came at the door, before it slowly opened.

Truthfully, a wave of relief washed over you when you saw Fred entering, his usual smugness replaced with something softer. “Saw Felix being a git, it's safe to say he won't ever bother you again.”

Fred's implication that he had a word with Felix made you all the more relieved, you exhaled softly, nodding.

You smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

He stood at the doorframe for a second, inspecting your state before slowly walking over. The couch dipped upon the weight of him as he sat beside you.

“You okay?” He nudged you with his body gently.

You nodded, looking forward though you felt his gaze on you. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”

He listened intently, offering you the silence you much needed after the earlier commotion.

There was a pause before you turned to face him, “How’s it going with Gabriella?”

Fred shrugged. “Good,” he lied, then exhaled. “Alright, fine. She’s nice, but I think I bored her to death. She’s talking to Neville about some plants now.”

You chuckled. “Plants are fascinating.”

“To you, maybe. Not exactly my best topic,” Fred admitted. "Might buy a bouquet or two, but other than that I'm clueless."

"If you do, red roses are the way to go. She loves them, practically every girl does."

"Including you?"

"I adore them. Sounds a bit basic but they're a classic for a reason, they're just so...romantic." Your eyes glistened as you spoke about roses, dreaming of the day someone would buy you flowers.

"Noted, I'll pass a good word to Oliver." Fred chuckled, smiling at the way your eyes lit up, but his smiled disappeared when you frowned, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I think I’m losing it with Oliver. I feel like a total idiot for not drinking in front of him and his friends."

Fred shook his head. “Nah, you’re not an idiot....maybe a little, but not a full blown one." You slapped his arm playfully, but he continued, raising his hands in defence, "If anything, that makes you better than them. You don’t need to do anything to impress him, so what if you don't feel like drinking?”

"I don't think I'll face him again, if his friends hate me, he'll probably grow to dislike me." You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

"Nothing a little flirting can't solve," Fred was optimistic, attempting to cheer you up in this moment of despair, "Next time you see him, get more touchy. When you laugh, place a hand on his arm, lean on him, lean in to him...y'know, the usual."

"Ugh, in front of his friends?" You grumbled.

"All the better, shows you've got game." He continued to give you tips on how to approach Oliver again later, helping you plan your next move.

It was only fair of you to return the favour, leaning in slightly. “Right, so, lean in when you talk to her, like this,” you said, demonstrating the closeness.

Fred swallowed, blinking at you. “Like this?” He mimicked you, your shoulders were touching all the more, your face near his neck, his mouth a few inches away from your forehead.

You nodded, voice softer now. “And maybe say something like… ‘Your eyes are a remarkable shade of hazel, I never noticed how stunning they were until up close now. They sparkle beautifully in the moonlight, yet they manage to shine even brighter when you're caring.’”

It was meant for Gabriella. But as you spoke, something in your chest tightened. You were speaking to Fred. Really speaking to him. His hazel eyes met yours, and he leaned in once more.

His mouth parted slightly, as his eyes darted to your lips then back to your eyes. You found yourself leaning in too, your breathing became heavy.

Your heart felt like it was going to pounce out of your chest with the rate it was beating.

The air between you stilled as you both realised the weight of your words.

Before he could respond, the door creaked open. You and Fred jumped apart just as Oliver and Gabriella entered, looking at you both in confusion.

“There you are, we were wondering where you two had vanished off too.” Gabriella remarked, her eyes darting from Fred to you.

Your heart raced and Fred's face flushed a shade of red. Though completely innocent, if felt as though you were caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing.

Flustered, you quickly went to Oliver, while Gabriella made her way to Fred.

The rest of the party carried on, fun and lively, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that lingered. No matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver, your gaze kept drifting back to Fred.

____

The anticipation leading up to the Yule Ball had everyone on edge. With the Yule Ball near approaching, the talk of the castle revolved around the ball; students asking each other to the dance, flowers being exchanged, and whispers filling the corridors.

You woke up that morning with only one name in your mind—Fred Weasley. It was irritating, really. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him. You liked Oliver. You were going with Oliver. And yet, Fred’s stupid, mischievous grin had invaded your thoughts like an unrelenting charm.

At breakfast, you sat with Gabriella at your usual hufflepuff table, chatting about the Yule Ball. She was gushing about how beautiful everything was going to look, the magical snowflakes, the ice sculptures, the romantic lighting. You smiled along, but your mind was elsewhere. Across the hall, Fred was laughing with George, but every so often, you swore you caught him glancing at you.

After your 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' class, you walked out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione when Oliver approached. He was holding a bouquet of red roses, his confident smile making you a blushing mess.

"Y/N," he said warmly, holding out the flowers. "Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"

You paused, then beamed. "Of course, Oliver. I'd love to!" He pulled you in for a warm hug while students around you cheered, and whistled loudly.

You were happy—you really were. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? But as you took the roses, a strange heaviness settled in your chest.

Later that day, you found yourself with Fred, helping him prepare to ask Gabriella. You were ranting about Oliver, swooning over how charming he was. Fred, though smiling, was already fuming inside. He wanted to be happy for you. He wanted to believe this was all fine. But every word you spoke about Oliver grated on his nerves.

"Do you think Gabriella will like this?" Fred asked, holding up a box of assorted chocolates, changing the topic quickly after countless nods and 'that's great' as a response to you gushing over Oliver.

You turned to him, considering. "Yeah, she will, can't go wrong with chocolate. You got this, Freddie!"

"Right," he said, running a hand through his hair, looking more uncertain than usual. He was prolonging it, he knew it. He didn't want to ask her. He had someone else on his mind now. But what choice did he have? You were already going with Oliver.

When he finally did ask Gabriella in the courtyard, you cheered for him, clapping as she said yes. It was the right outcome—technically, you both won. And yet, watching Fred grin as he hugged Gabriella filled you with an unexpected wave of envy.

_____

The Yule Ball arrived in a flurry of excitement. You walked down the stairs with Oliver, arm in arm, dressed in your most elegant red gown. Across the entrance, you saw Fred with Gabriella. You both gave each other thumbs-up and smiled, though your smile never quite reached your eyes, nor did Fred's.

As you approached the entrance, Oliver and Gabriella walked in first, conversing with each other, leaving you and Fred standing alone for a moment.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets before breaking the silence, "So…we both got what we wanted."

You exhaled, forcing a smile. "Yeah…we both got with our dates. All too smoothly, I might add."

You both chuckled, but there was an undeniable weight in the air.

"You look nice, cleaned up well for Oliver eh? Lucky bloke." Fred joked, though his voice was laced with subtle serious undertone.

"Hm, you don't look like a grindylow for once, I see you clean up pretty nicely too."

He chuckled softly, removing his hands from his pockets. Neither of you moved, it was as though a silent message of 'please stay here with me' was shared.

You hesitated before extending your hand. "Thank you, Fred. For everything."

He took your hand, shaking it lightly, but neither of you let go. There was a static, a spark, if you would, something both of you didn’t want to ignore. You both looked down at your touching hands, then back to each other.

Oblivious as to what the other party was thinking, the two of you decided to ignore it, let go, and move on, for the better, right?

"So, that's our deal done then?" you said slowly, though regretting it.

Fred swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah. I'll, uh…see you around school then."

Your heart clenched, but for the sake of the ball, you put on your best grin. "I'll see you around, Fred."

You then turned to Oliver who was a few steps ahead, extending his arm to you. As you walked with him into the ballroom, you turned back one last time.

Fred was still standing there. You waved. He waved back, smiling—but his eyes told you that there was something masked beneath that smile. Gabriella came up to him, and they walked inside together, you turned forward to let them have their moment.

The ball was everything you imagined—beautiful, magical, enchanting. Oliver was the perfect gentleman, twirling you around the dance floor, kissing your hand, your cheek, your forehead, even. He got you punch, held the door open, pulled out your chair, he was the ideal guy, truly ticking off all your boxes.

You smiled at him, but your heart was never quite satisfied, there was a space yet to be filled.

And you hated that you knew why.

Your eyes kept drifting to him. He was dancing with Gabriella, but his mind was far away. Uncomfortable. Lost.

You chuckled to yourself, shaking off this silly feeling, turning your attention back to Oliver, who was explaining about his latest tactics for the upcoming Quidditch match with ravenclaw.

____

Later that night, Oliver walked you back to your common room. He leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You lips curled up into a grateful smile, thanking him for the wonderful evening, but as he turned to leave, something inside you snapped.

If something was wrong, you needed to fix it. Merlin, what's the point in waiting? If something didn't feel right, your gut knew that you had to fix it right away. And this, was one of those moments.

You turned on your heel and ran in your red gown. Through the castle, past students, up and down staircases—you had no plan, no direction, just a need to find him.

Until you did.

At the main staircase, you froze. Fred was at the bottom, looking up at you. He was holding a bouquet of red roses.

Your throat tightened, immediately regretting your decision. "For Gabriella?"

Fred shook his head. "No." He stepped forward, "They're for you."

Your paused, holding your breath as he started walking up the stairs, to you.

"Y/N, I—" Fred hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "I don’t want Gabriella. I don't think I ever did, truthfully. I just…I wanted to be with you. And I was too much of a git to see it until it was too late."

Tears burned at your eyes. "Fred—"

"I don't care about the deal. I don't care about anything except you. I don't want to ever lose you Y/N. And if I have to watch you with Oliver one more time, I think I might actually go mental."

He was close now, the roses in one hand, the other reaching for you.

You let out a shaky laugh. "You're such a git, you know that?"

Fred grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. "Yeah. But I’m your silly git, if you'll have me."

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. You surged forward, crashing your lips to his, your hands gripping his suit. He dropped the flowers, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

It was passionate, desperate, hungry, everything you had ever wanted but had been too blind to admit. The kiss of two people who were starving and desperately in need of each other. Fred savoured every bit of your mouth, as though tomorrow would never come, ending with a sweet peck.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, a grin sprawled across that deviously handsome face of his, his hair messy but Merlin, it was such a look on him. "So, I take it that’s a yes, love?"

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his. "Yes, you fool."

Fred cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek once again. "Best deal I’ve ever made."

[percyweasleyapologist]

Voldemort: I have an army. Percy: We have an Oliver whose quidditch pitch was destroyed.

[rainydayathogwarts]

ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴛʀɪᴏ ᴇʀᴀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ˋ°•*⁀➷ navigation

꩜ smut ❀ fluff 𖤓 angsty/angry 𖤐 funny

ʀᴏɴ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ jealous, jealous, jealous girl - ron notices you upping the PDA when Lavender starts flirting with him and you decide to show her who he belongs to (꩜𖤓)

✩ popular!shy!reader - ron’s friends think you were the one who made the move but are shocked to find out the opposite (❀𖤐)

✩ the dream - ron has a dirty dream and wakes up hard next to reader (꩜𖤐)

✩ needy - needy!ron misses you because you've been taking NEWTs too seriously but he finds the perfect moment to drag you into an empty classroom (꩜)

✩ overstimulation with dom!Ron (꩜)

✩ goodbye kisses that last longer than intended (❀𖤓𖤐)

✩ opposite teams - You play a Quidditch match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser (❀꩜𖤓)

✩ glossy lips - Wiping off lip gloss from his lips after a kiss (❀𖤐)

✩ late to class - Ron doesn't want you to leave to class so soon and manages a convincing excuse for you to stay (꩜)

✩ unsteady desk chair - When ron's been locked in his dorm trying to finish an essay all afternoon, you decide to help motivate him a little (꩜)

✩ shameless - Ron and his gf are absolutely shameless about pda, even with their friends around. They face some friendly consequences (𖤐)

✩ the chosen one - Ron has lived in the chosen one's shadow since they became best friends, so when he gets the one thing Harry wants, he decides to never let go (𖤓)

✩ sewing kit - "The instant Ron came to you asking for help sewing a rip in his t-shirt, Molly knew you were the woman he was going to marry." (❀)

✩ i think i've seen this film before - when sirius found out that bellatrix lestrange was having a daughter, he did everything in his power to protect her. he never met her until one day she showed up at his doorstep the same way he had at the potters. but what he didn't know was that she was dating a boy who was under this very roof. (❀𖤓)

✩ buy you a drink - when ron unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through a one night stand, he rushes to tell his friends the next day. but unfortunately, that reveals some new information about you, the apparent love of his life. (❀꩜)

Ron won't stop complaining about Seamus and his girlfriend taking up the dorm until he's the one with a girl in there. coming soon...

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

concussions and interruptions au wolfstar!daughter au

✩ Harry's bi awakening (𖤐)

✩ "you knew?" "you didn't?" - In which the twins only just find out their sister is dating Harry (𖤐)

✩ me and you - You keep telling Ron to just 'ask her out' but he won't take your word seriously until you take your own advice. Somehow, you both end up with dates... (❀𖤐)

✩ long kisses, risky places - When kissing in the library leads to something more... (❀𖤐)

✩ love, mum and dad - Harry gets the memory book you and James made for him to open on his 17th birthday, but he gets it a little sooner, and discovers things about the family he could have had (𖤓)

✩ more than anything - keeping your relationship a secret is difficult when you just can't stop staring at your boyfriend (❀𖤓)

✩ what boyfriend? - when you are bed ridden due to your period, Madame Pomfrey comes to check in on you and play match-maker (❀𖤐)

✩ summer lovin' - you decide to visit harry over the summer, playing the classic 'girl next door' so harry's uncle lets you in (❀)

✩ a job for a godparent - harry knows you're the love of his life, but he just needs to know that you want kids as much as he does. a day at his house over the summer confirms it. (❀)

✩ a motherly visit - when harry sends you another owl claiming that professor snape has it out for him, you decide to pay them a short visit (❀𖤐)

✩ second time's the charm - when you're bitten by greyback again during the battle of the astronomy tower, you find yourself with new company (❀𖤓)

✩ always the prefects bathroom - despite harry potter's presence in the prefects bathroom, you aren't stopped from taking a soothing bath (❀𖤐)

ɴᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ

✩ snake ring - In which the twins pull you into a game of seven minutes in heaven. (❀𖤐)

✩ dry-humping Neville at a party (❀꩜)

✩ kiss and tell - In which a very aware y/n of Neville's crush on her gets the courage to make a move (❀𖤐)

✩ stolen glances - Stealing glances at each other across the room until your friends notice (꩜𖤐)

✩ strangers to friends - Neville, terrified of a scary, confident slytherin, finds out that she's more welcoming than some of his own friends... An unlikely friendship develops (❀)

✩ grim greenhouses - when you defend neville against your cousin, he is convinced he has to give you a little gift as a thank you. but what happens when you decide to thank him for his gift? (❀꩜)

✩ creepy crawlers - your usually calm and composed front breaks in herbology, but neville comes to the rescue (❀)

ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ into the woods - Waking George up to go out for a morning walk at the Burrow has him feeling quite frisky (❀꩜)

✩ in this together - When you find out that your mother, Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped Azkaban, you have a crisis, thankfully short lived due to your boyfriend's care for the situation (❀𖤓)

✩ dear diary - Ron can't help his crush on his older brother's girlfriend, and catches himself in some inconvenient situations (꩜𖤐)

✩ bloody quills and teary eyes - George comforts you after your first detention with Umbridge (❀𖤓)

✩ god, i missed you so much - when you and george have spent the last few months doing long-distance, with you at hogwarts while he runs the shop, the reunion is bound to be good (❀𖤓)

✩ reasonless hatred - severus snape's daughter causes him nothing but chaos, hatred where love should be in their relationship. but she is finally given a real reason to hate her father, and she decides to give him one to hate her too (❀𖤓)

ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ

✩ I already won - even though he very much lost the game, he still won you (❀𖤓)

✩ how he reacts when you tell him you're in the mood (꩜)

✩ blood, dirt and reunions - You almost die and reunite with an old ex-boyfriend... or not (❀𖤓)

ꜱᴇᴀᴍᴜꜱ ꜰɪɴɴᴇɢᴀɴ

✩ tipsy - Seamus takes care of you when you're drunk (❀𖤐)

✩ safe in his arms - Brother!Harry Potter makes Seamus promise him to keep you safe because of how obvious your feelings are for each other (❀𖤓)

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ guilt trip - Charlie tries to guilt trip the reader to visit his family with him (❀𖤓)

✩ bloody introductions - When some of Charlie's siblings break in to his apartment to surprise him, they find out about his roommate/girlfriend (❀𖤐)

ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ just a swim - Percy's partner tries to get him to break a couple of rules (❀𖤐)

✩ how they react when you're in the mood (꩜)

'For the first time in his life, Percy pushes academics aside to focus on a girl, but his family doesn't know and thinks he has gone down a dark road.' coming soon...

ꜰʀᴇᴅ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ before you go -  fred weasley has relentlessly asked you out for years, but you’ve never given the younger boy a chance. not until sixth year, when he makes the compelling argument that if the date goes terribly, at least it’ll be the last year you’ll ever see him at hogwarts. (❀꩜)

✩ ready for bed - ready for bed, you didn't bother to cover your hickeys, because you had nowhere to be, right? (𖤐)

ʙɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

a certain malfoy au m.list

ᴄᴇᴅʀɪᴄ ᴅɪɢɢᴏʀʏ

✩ no disturbances - You and Cedric make such a cute couple that teachers have turned a blind eye to several accounts of PDA (❀𖤐)

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴋʀᴜᴍ

✩ what's her face - Rita skeeter being annoying (𖤐)

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ

✩ someone finds out you're dating

✩ he gets turned on at the wrong time

✩ she gets turned on at the wrong time

[maraudersidk]

I hate when people try to act like percy was completely unattractive but then say that the rest of the weasleys were super hot like logically no.

Like those baby blue eyes and his fiery red hair and tiny waist AND HES SMART literally brains and brawn. And with his motherly nature like ugh he was truly a gentleman.

Rip percy weasley we were meant to be.

Rip oliver wood you would cry if you saw how people talk abt this gem of a human.

[percyposting]

I made this so fast @winn-wynn

[fairyofspringdays]

Penelope, looking at the flooded, bubble filled prefects' bathroom: Oliver! Why would you do this!?

Marcus: Do you ever listen to the voice that tells you no!?

Oliver: Well, Percy wasn't here to stop me.

Audrey: He means your conscience.

Oliver: ...you mean Percy? He always tells me "no" and to "stop".

Penelope: Percy isn't your conscience. We mean the voice in your head that tells you what's right and what's wrong.

Oliver: Well the voice in my head normally tells me how nice Percy looks today, and how cute his laugh is, and how much we'd compliment each other as a couple. So take that, Penelope!

Percy: *stares at oliver*

Percy: I suppose I am his moral compass.

Marcus: And you're just going to brush over the confession?!?

[fryingpan1234567]

Percy Weasley…. with a sleeper build??

Percy Weasley who carries around SO MANY FUCKING BOOKS ALL THE TIME

+ His heavy ass school bag

+ Moving said books around to place them at various heights on shelves and in his room

Taught himself to be ambidextrous to be as versatile when studying as possible which means FOREARMS

But he’s skinny asf and no you can’t really see it

(Especially in comparison to Oliver Wood, who’s built like a fridge and is a healthy 6’2)

And I do mean he LOOKS skinny like enough people have seen him without a shirt (brothers, other family members, Oliver, people in vicinity while swimming and such) and that boy is thin okay 

But there was this one time when Percy went to move a whole stack of textbooks from his bed to somewhere else, and because he’s wearing a short sleeve pajama-esque T-shirt (probably Oliver’s), Oliver half spit his drink out because ARMS??

SINCE THE FUCK WHEN?? FUCKING WHERE??

Listen if you think that kid hasn’t built up muscle from a quidditch crazy family that makes him play all the time, Molly Weasley’s hearty cooking, carrying around his own books and probably other people’s sometimes and helps shorter kids put theirs on the higher shelves in the library all day every day, you’re crazy

But because he’s like 6’5 it gets distributed differently and he looks like a candy cane no matter what

Sometimes you can see it when he’s carrying enough books at once, and upon discovering this, Oliver will poke at Percy’s arms in wonder and it makes Percy flush but he secretly kinda loves it

Yeah one time Percy surprised them both after Gryffindor won a particularly large match and he PICKED UP OLIVER (all 200+ lbs of him) AND SPUN HIM AROUND IN EXCITEMENT

“WHAT THE FUCK I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COULD DO THAT”

“I DIDN’T KNOW I COULD DO THAT EITHER”

[draurer]

Bill Weasley, listening to the story of his younger brother, who just entered Hogwarts, about how he made his first friend ->

Charlie Weasley, watching as his younger brother waits for they team's new keeper after every training session to help with homework ->

George and Fred Weasley, who practice longer than the others in the morning training because it's a punishment from the captain of their Quidditch team for making disgusting jokes about their older brother ->

Ron Weasley, celebrating Gryffindor Quidditch Cup with everyone else, sees the team's captain, drunk and cheerful, laughing with his older brother instead of the rest of the team ->

Molly Weasley finding a sock in Padlemere United colors in her house ->

Arthur Weasley, sorting through owl's household mail in the early morning and noticing Hermes, who has three letters from the same person, addressed to his third son ->

Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood genuinely don't understand why no one is surprised by their relationship, because it was so UNEXPECTED and UNPREDICTABLE

[oncethrown]

Helga's Alliance

Chapter 35

In which I begin to wonder if I should have split this story into parts corresponding to which book it happens in the background of, Desiderata finally tells someone exactly what she means, and Percy stands up for Penny

[winn-wynn]

Oliver with Percy probably

[etherealsymphony]

Percy entering Hogwarts wearing a Hufflepuff quidditch jacket: Oh Marcus, Oli! There you both are. Shall we go to lunch now?

Marcus: The fuck are you wearing?

Oliver: Get that off your body right now.

Percy: What are you… oh this? Boys, Cedric let me use it cause it’s pouring out there! Calm down.

Boys: FIRST NAME BASIS?

Marcus: alright Oli let’s go we have to kill someone

Percy: Wait no!!!