#please call seamus too one last run for the boys

[rowdyluv]

GAVIN BRINDLEY IS GOING TO THE MEN’S WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP .

now I just need them to pick up their phones and call Seamus and give the boys one last run together…

[lxngbottom]

Cramps. | N.L. (+ D.T & S.F.)

in which the reader is having a really bad period, so her three best friends come and check up on her.

warnings: pain, periods, bleeding, swearing, we know how it is.

i’m on my period rn, & these three boys are my fav characters so this is mostly to comfort me (and idk if you guys can even relate, but my periods get THIS bad) (edit: this was NOT supposed to be this long but oh well i love these three)

gryffindor reader! (but anyone can read obv)

—

somehow, you had managed to make it through the previous school day. but, the whole time your stomach felt like it was completely turning on you, and with every step you took, the bleeding was so heavy. you couldn’t even remember the last time you went through so many pads and tampons in one day.

on top of that, you were an absolute emotional wreck. and, that became apparent to neville when seamus laughed over tripping over your shoe lace, and you looked up at your three best friends with tears in your eyes.

“merlin, y/n! i was only messing with you! what’s wrong?” seamus furrowed his eyebrows at you, only for you to bend down and groan in pain as you attempted to tie your loose shoe laces.

“i can’t do it!” you whined, a tear finally escaping your tired eyes. you stood up, and sniffled, not noticing the genuine concerned looks plastered across the three boys’s faces.

and then, if things couldn’t get any worse, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned around to meet a terrified looking ron and harry, staring down at your legs,

“y-y-y/n... blood! t-t-there’s blood running down your legs!”

you looked down, and sure enough, there was a bunch of it. you automatically began to cry, and the sobbing only got worse as you realized that this was happening in front of not one, not two, but five boys.

“nev—neville... p-please give me your jacket...” you choked out, rushing as the blood seeped between your thighs. he did so quickly, tossing it to you, and your tied it around your waist before running into the nearest bathroom.

“why would you point that out?” dean asked ron, eyeing him,

“what?! would it be better for her to stay like that the rest of the day?” the ginger snapped back, still not putting two and two together. ron wasn’t exactly wrong, but his execution was awful.

the boys sighed, deciding that maybe waiting outside the bathroom would do you some good. but, unfortunately, as 15 minutes passed, you never came out.

“m-m-maybe someone should go and get hermione. or lavendar. or one of the parvati twins?” neville suggested, scratching the back of his neck. seamus shrugged, honestly clueless on how to handle the whole situation.

luckily, a saving grace skipped by, grabbing the attention of all of the boys,

“ginny!” ron called out, and she stopped in her tracks, “thank merlin you’re here!”

the look on her face was questionable as harry, ron, neville, dean, and seamus all stared at her.

“w-what?”

dean spoke up first, more than concerned, “y/n went in there. she—she had—blood running down her legs. and, she started crying...”

that’s all it took for ginny to nod her head, “okay. you guys go ahead. i’ll take care of her!”

they did so reluctantly, more so your three best friends. as ron and harry wanted to be away from the whole scenario as soon as possible.

and, that was the last they heard from you yesterday. today, they waited for you to come down from the girl’s dorm, but you never came.

they waited for you in the great hall, but again, you never came.

little did they know, you were curled up in a ball on your bed, sobbing from the excruciating pain that filled your whole body. this cycle was hitting you like a truck, and you’d wished that somehow you had been more prepared for it.

hermione had left you reluctantly that morning, never seeing a fellow girl having such a bad period before. you had cried all night, and you and her both had barely gotten any sleep. so that’s why when neville saw hermione drifting off to sleep during a shared class, he was absolutely baffled.

as that same class ended, the three boys caught up with hermione,

“hey, granger! where’s y/n?” seamus asked, and she rubbed her eyes.

“she—um—“ a yawn interrupted her response, “she’s in our dorm. she doesn’t feel well.”

neville’s mouth went agape, and he finally put two and two together.

“i wouldn’t go and see her, though. you guys embarrassed her yesterday. she told me all about ronald, and ginny, and seamus. she’s really upset, and... she’s just in a lot of pain. so, just let her be for a while.”

and with that, she left the three boys. they gave each other weird looks, mentally questioning each other.

you on the other hand at this time, were crying as you changed out your bed sheets for the second time that day. it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable experience to have to explain to a house elf why you needed a bunch of new clean sheets.

dinner soon came, and even then, the boys expected to see you sitting with them, eating and laughing. but, you still hadn’t left that dorm.

so, neville packed some extra food, and the three made a journey to gryffindor tower, just to see if they could break the rules to make sure you weren’t dying. (of course, all three of them were convinced that you were on your death bed.)

they slipped past the prefect, climbing up the stairs to your dorm.

dean was just about to knock when they all heard your voice,

���stop, hermione! please! i don’t care that i missed my classes! i’ve been puking all day, bled on my bed, almost shit my pants four times, so, i really don’t care about snape and what he said about me! piss off!”

seamus’s lips curled, and the sound he let out could only be described as pure disgust. but, neville nudged him,

“she can’t help it. don’t be like that...” he whispered, still not sure if you were alright with visitors at the moment.

“well, i’m sorry! but, dean, neville, and seamus are all worried about you! they—“

that’s when they heard a blood curdling scream, and it sounded exactly like you. it made them jump,

“I WANT TO KILL MYSELF! FUCK!”

“don’t say that! it’s only for a few days, y/n! i told you i would help you with anything you needed!”

“then you can start by fucking off! go away!”

the boys looked at each other,

“maybe—“

“yeah—“

“later.”

they all mutually agreed, and ran down the stairs before hermione had the chance to see them.

they settled in the common room, deciding to do their homework until they knew it was a safe call to go and see you. they all worried about you tremendously, as they had never heard you talk to a fellow friend like that. you simple weren’t that type of person in their eyes. you had always been patient with people, so it was a wonder to them how you loved them so much.

they spotted ginny, walking up to the girl’s dormitories with a glass of ice cream in hand. they naturally assumed it was for you. and truth be told, when ginny entered with a sweet smile on her face, holding the cold treat, you realized you had never been more happy to see a weasley before.

as pathetic as it sounded, you cried to ginny while eating the chocolate ice cream. you sobbed to her about all the events of that day, and the day before. your crush on neville and how you believed he didn’t feel the same, the way that seamus chewed too loudly, and how hermione was too uptight sometimes. she simply listened, knowing that’s all she could really do.

finally, the three boys saw ginny coming down the the glass now empty, and they ran up to her,

“is she okay?”

“what’s happening?”

“can we go and see her?”

she chuckled and shook her head them, “she’s fine, you guys. calm down. i’m not so sure if she’ll want to see you guys, but you guys can sure try.”

they all three looked at each other, slightly terrified.

but, they sucked it up and made their way up again. of course, seamus couldn’t hold back from making a snide comment,

“i swear, if i get a book thrown at my head and end up in the hospital wing with a concussion, i’m blanking it on neville.”

“why me?!” neville scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air,

“because! you fancy her and are the most worried about her! she’s just on her period! is it really that big of a deal?”

before neville could answer, dean cut in, “yes, seamus. it is a big deal. maybe not to us, but to her it is. try bleeding out of your dick for a week while your inside are ripping apart!”

if you would’ve been present, you definitely wouldn’t hugged dean for that one.

they finally arrived, and they argued for a moment over who would be the once to knock on the door. it felt like they were stepping into a death trap. finally, neville agreed to do it.

he did so gently,

“what?” you asked, “who is it?”

dean and seamus eyed each other, definitely panicking.

“erm—it’s... us...”

you groaned, and looked down at your state. you were only in your bra and underwear, trash bucket in your lap, nausea getting the best of you... again.

but, you figured seeing your three best friends would bring you some comfort. this wasn’t their fault, and you didn’t want to take it out on them anymore.

“um... you can come in, but warning! i’m—“

before you could warn them, the door flew open,

“naked...” you breathed out, looking down at the trash can.

they all went wide eyed, and neville covered dean and seamus’s eyes with his hands, and closed his own.

“close the door, you gits!”

neville did so with his foot, still covering everyone’s eyes. you let out a small chuckle at the fact, and shook your head.

“you guys can look, you know. you act like we haven’t been best friends since first year.”

“b-b-but you’re—naked!” dean responded, through neville still keeping his own hand over the boy’s face.

you pursed your lips as you felt vomit climbing it’s way up your throat, “who—“

that’s when they heard it. the violent sound of puking. neville thanked merlin that his eyes were closed, because he probably would’ve puked too.

“who cares?” you breathed out, wiping the slobber from your chin. that’s when seamus took neville’s hand away from his eyes, and realized how you looked.

you looked unrecognizable almost. you looked exhausted, pale, and like you had just been hit by twenty cars at one time. your eyes were all puffy and red from crying, and your hair was definitely not put together like it usually was. makeup was smeared all down your face, makeup from the day before that you simply didn’t have the motivation to get up and wash off. but, seamus couldn’t help but notice your bra and underwear.

“you—“ he chuckled, “you have teddy bears on your undergarments, y/n?”

you clenched your jaw, and tightened your grasp around the trash can, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes widened,

“kidding! i was only kidding! they suit you well!”

finally, dean shoved neville’s hand off as well, and neville opened his eyes back up reluctantly. neville and dean took in your state, much less of a laughing matter to them, as they were more of the calm friends.

“merlin, y/n... are you alright?” neville asked, approaching you slowly. you shook your head,

“i’m dying...”

the three boys gasped, and you looked at them funny, “i’m kidding... but i feel like i might...”

that settled their nerves a bit, the theory of you dying slowly fading away. you spit in the trash can, and set it back down on the floor. of course, seamus being the curious cat he is, looked in the trash can.

“don’t look at my vomit, finnigan! don’t you have any manners?”

he jumped back, and nodded his head.

“what are you guys doing here, anyway?” you asked, laying down fully on the bed, stomach and legs exposed.

“well—we know—you—you sorta—“

neville sighed at dean’s awkwardness about the whole situation, “we know you’re on your period. and, we know that you’re in a lot of pain. and, we just wanted to come and check up on you.” he glanced at the other two boys, “right?”

“yeah, definitely!”

“totally!”

you giggled at seamus and dean, “oh, what gentlemen. how could i ever thank you?”

seamus couldn’t hold it in. the comment just slipped from his lips,

“well, seeing you in your bra and underwear is thanks enough in my book!” he joked, nudging dean.

surprisingly, the only one who laughed beside seamus... was you. this surprised the boys, as you were sure that would earn seamus that book to his temple, or at least a smack to the face. but, it didn’t.

“see? i told you guys she’s fine! she’s laughing like she always does!”

neville seemed to look over at you for reassurance, just to make sure that seamus hadn’t crossed a boundary with one of his crude jokes. it was something that seamus had done quite a few times, without even realizing it, but it was simply because he didn’t know how to put a filter on. you knew at the end of the day that seamus wasn’t trying to disrespect you. plus, it was something you had go get used to, being one of his best friends and all.

at one point, the boys had eased into the floor, getting things for you if you needed it. seamus even asked why exactly girls even got periods, and you explained it to him in full detail.

“so... like—the inside of your uterus is actually tearing? i thought dean was joking about that!”

you shook your head, “unfortunately, it’s not a joke, finnigan. it’s very real...”

“well, is it this bad for all girls?”

“no, actually. some girls only bleed for a couple of days, and it’s very light. they can go without cramps, puking... lucky bitches!”

that’s when the boys fell silent, even seamus himself. until he raised an eyebrow,

“is it bad that i’m kinda curious? you know—to see how it feels to... bleed... down—there...”

dean furrowed his eyebrows, but neville nodded his head in agreement.

“well, boys... i can’t make you bleed out your dick for seven days straight... but, i can punch you guys in the stomach with full force and show you how cramps feel!”

collectively, they all disagreed, which caused you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“but—it can’t be that bad, right? i mean, everyone can get a stomach ache...” dean questioned, but unsure of what he had just said.

“let me put it to you like this, thomas. imagine the weasley twins sneaking a muggle laxative into your morning pumpkin juice...” you started, “but that stomach pain for a whole week.”

dean put his head down, finally understanding. no wonder you had talked about almost shitting your pants.

that’s when the door swung open, revealing a surprised hermione,

“y/n! where are your clothes?! boys are in here! and plus, they’re not even supposed to be in here, anyway!” she snapped, immediately storming over to your closet, and pulling out a random shirt, throwing it at you.

“but, it’s too hot! and, any tightness hurts!”

“i don’t care! i couldn’t imagine sitting around with ronald and harry with my—lady parts hanging out!”

you chuckled at her hidden shaming, quite used to it by now. “oh, whatever, granger! it’s the same difference as a bathing suit! lighten up!”

seamus and dean snickered at the look on her face, and the way she stormed out.

“she’s right, y/n. not about—you know, we don’t care... but, just—seamus will be talking about it for the rest of his natural life if you keep your clothes off any longer.” neville stated, standing up and taking his sweater off. he passed it to you, making sure not to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable.

you smiled at the kind gesture. sure, it was a sweater, and you probably should choose the lighter t-shirt that hermione had snagged out for you. but, it was neville’s sweater, so, how could you refuse?

you slipped it on over your head, and pulled your hair through the hole. it was quite comfortable, and you were just the right amount of warm and cool. so, it worked out in the end. “thank you, longbottom. that was sweet.”

his face turned red at the small grin etched upon your face, but he shook it off and sat back down on the floor.

you all began talking again, not even noticing when seamus had gotten bored and ancy, and started snooping in your drawers. but, his eyes went wide at the sight of something in your drawer. he picked it up, and stared at it for a moment.

“uh... y/n...” he started, voice a bit shaky, “what’s this?”

he held it up, and you, dean, and neville all looked over.

“that’s a tampon, finnigan. i use it when i’m on my period so the blood doesn’t leak out.”

he took a beat of silence as he connected the dots, and his eyes seemed to widen even more,

“and... you have to put this where exactly?”

[malereader-inserts]

Even Though it Hurts

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Remus Lupin & Son!Reader Summary: You have a will power than no other. Word Count: 2,032 Request: “ Hi, I love your writing so much. Can you do dad!Remus Lupin x son!reader, where the reader is in secret relationship with Seamus and Remus find out? Just some super angsty story, cuz I live for angst (I knew Remus will be supporting parent). Thank you✨” A/n: Okay, I tried my best to make it angsty. WARNING: homophobia, homophobic slur, anxiety 

It’s not like you wanted your dad to know. 

You didn’t really know what was going through your mind, really, because you know your old man. Your dad was a loving father, he supported you in anything you had interested in. If you were into potions, he would try and get to a little chemistry set - muggle kind that wouldn’t end up exploding the house. If you were into muggle history, he would take you to the museums wherever you lived at that moment. 

If you were interested in quidditch, he would give you books about the history of quidditch and the rule book. He even tried to get to a broom with his own money, but he had to dip into your mother’s money (which was reserved for you and anything you wanted, it was open to Remus as well because before she died she really loved Remus.) 

But, you weren’t sure if he would support you in a new revelation of yourself.

That included kissing pretty boys in the corners late at night. 

Granted, when you spent a summer with Remus and Sirius, they talked about how they had a relationship before Remus got with your mother and Sirius whored about.

Still, it was something you were terribly scared of. Your best friends have tried convincing you and settle your racing mind that you were overthinking it and that Remus would love you no matter what you were or have done.

“You take your time, babe, but I don’t know why you’re stressin’. Your dad is sound and he’ll take the news fine!” Your boyfriend says as you sighed, closing your book. 

“Everyone is saying that Seamus, but that doesn’t eliminate the slight possibility that he wouldn’t approve.”

“I think it does, (Y/n),” Seamus replied, giving you a pointed look, “Why are you so afraid?”

You stare at your boyfriend, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Wha-?”

“Night.”

Seamus watches you tuck yourself in bed, moving the pillows around you so that your boyfriend could slip into bed with you. You flick your wand to turn off the lights as Seamus watches you dumbfounded.

You rubbed your hand as you make it to your next class, which was transfiguration, you smiled at your boyfriend - managing to give him a kiss on the cheek as he flushed red. You moved to stand with Ron and Harry as Dean teases Seamus.

“A minute to the hour, what took you so long?” Ron asked you as you shrugged your shoulder.

“Caught up in the library, sorry,” You replied as you sat down.

Harry was next to Ron as you sat down next to Seamus, who was jabbing you in the side trying to get your attention. McGonagall starts the lesson and Hermione randomly appearing out of nowhere. No one batted an eye throughout that lesson, it was a double before the end of the day.

So, when the lesson finishes, McGonagall calls you to stay behind. You tell Harry, Ron and Hermione not to fuss over you as you held Seamus’ hand a bit longer. Seamus was the last to leave, giving you a supportive look because as much as McGonagall was lovely - she sure can be intimidating.

“Mr Lupin,” she says, calling you over to her desk as you meekly pulled your shoulder bag further onto your shoulder as you walk towards her, “Have a biscuit.”

“I’m okay, Professor,” you replied.

She narrows her eyes, “What was the punishment she gave you.”

Of course, your head of the house would clock on. She had seen how happy you were at the end of the fourth year, how you were so comfortable with showing off that Seamus was yours. She could tell there was a behaviour change in you because as the fifth year started - she knew you weren’t stressed about the subjects.

You were a smart kid, but this was something concerning. You avoided being seen with Seamus unless it was in the privacy of the common room and the bedroom.

“Let me see your hand,” She held her hand out and you knew you had to comply because she wouldn’t let you out of the room.

You gave her your non-dominate hand as she examines the injury. She didn’t like how it was still red, it told her that it was a fresh open wound as bruises started to surround the vile words.

“(Y/n)...”

She looks up at you and you already had started to sob, it was almost her motherly instinct that kicked in as she abruptly stood up and beckoned you to sit down as she soothes your back. 

“It wasn’t bad at first, you know?” You started to explain, “At first they were about dad and how he was a werewolf.”

McGonagall could see the scarring of the old sentence you had to write, “WEREWOLVES ARE VILE MONSTERS.”

She watches you cry harder as you started to hiccup, with a flick of her wand, a glass of water was starting to make way towards you.

“Catch your breathing, darling,” She says to you, rubbing your back, “I guess the wench found out about you and-?”

You chuckled, surprising her because honestly you hadn’t expected so much venom from a well-kept woman like Professor McGonagall and you weren’t expecting her to comfortably call Umbridge names. 

“Yes, she called me in first, gave me the option to either take the punishment or let Seamus. I couldn’t let him do that, and then she told me not to say a word to dad because if she found out, she- she...”

McGonagall could and would throw her shit if she could. No-one should be able to harm the students at all cost, Hogwarts was a place of safety and inducing fear in the students was the last thing she wanted. 

You hiccupped, “She would find where dad would be and make sure he would pay for his actions - I don’t know what she would charge my dad with, but, I can’t lose my dad like I have with my mother. He’s all I have left. I can’t hurt my dad, I can’t hurt my boyfriend, even if it kills me.”

She stares at you in silence, because a young teenager shouldn’t have to think like that.

“Alright, I’ll write you off for the rest of the week, and let me bandage your hand.”

Perhaps you were terrified to tell your dad about the punishment you have to endure, perhaps you were terrified how your dad would react that you rather endure pain and homophobia than tell him. You know that your dad would lose his cool.

McGonagall tends to your wound, she doesn’t want to see the nasty words on your hand and she knows full well you didn’t want to either. 

You leave her classroom to go back to bed, luckily, it was nearing Christmas so Christmas break was soon to come. 

You spent many days talking to McGonagall, she couldn’t stop you from going to detention, so no matter how many bandages you go through, you could feel the pain of two sentences branded on you.

“WEREWOLVES ARE VILES MONSTERS.”

“I AM A DISGUSTING FAGGOT.”

You managed to go home early due to the attack on the Wesley family, as you were considered part of their family as well as Hermione and Harry, they allowed you to go home - home as in the base of the Order. 

You weren’t sure how to confront your dad as you tried spending your time sending letters to Seamus. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You slammed your hand down on the desk as your head the voice before meekly turning around to see your dad, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“You scared me,” You sighed out, putting your feather down into the ink, “Announce your presence at least dad!”

Your dad chuckled, “I apologise, next time I will knock before speaking.”

You smiled as you turn yourself to look at him as he slowly enters the room, he wonders why you were cooped up in the room. Hermione was often seen downstairs reading a book whilst Ron and Harry was busy with themselves. But, you, you rather stay in your room.

“Are you ill?”

“Partly,” You responded far too quickly, you were nervous for some reason - the same nerves that ran down your back when you were in Umbridge’s office. 

When you were in “detention” she would rather have you answer quickly, you feared too much that you would reprimand. You pulled your sleeves down just to cover your hands.

“Running a bit of a fever, I’ll just sleep it off, dad.”

“(Y/n),” Remus narrowed his eyes at you, his chilled son that was much more of an anxious mess, “What’s going on? I’ve noticed that you’re sporting the same bandage as the twins and Harry.”

“Well-”

“And they told me it was because of Umbridge,” Remus continues, not meaning to interrupt you, “Son, what did she make you write?”

Remus hated the woman after she was the one to put up the suggestion on the law of werewolves, he would hate himself, but the tears confirmed his fears.

“I’m sorry!” You cried, looking down to cover your face with your hands.

“Shh, my boy,” Remus strides to give you a hug, he kneels in front of you as he lightly grabbed your hand, “May I?”

You sniffled and slightly nodded, you allowed your dad to wrap the greyish bandage. He didn’t know what he was expected, but the words that were scarred into you was worst than he thought. He wanted to throw up, he could understand the werewolf one - you are paying for his condition.

“Can you explain to me the other-?”

“Please don’t hate me!” That was your immediate response.

It wasn’t the confident response that Remus has in mind, he didn’t care if you were gay - you were still his son and he wouldn’t see you any differently. After all, he was a werewolf and you didn’t care at all - and he was considered a threat. 

He hoped that if you ever had the need to come out to him, he was expecting you to send him a letter that you were bringing home your boyfriend to meet him because you were so confident that your dad would welcome him with open arms. But, not this.

“(Y/n), I would never hate you for being gay,” Remus spoke firmly, “I love you with all my heart and you liking boys wouldn’t change the fact.”

“But-”

“My darling boy,” He says softly, “Were you afraid of my reaction because of the fear that Umbridge had instilled in you?”

You didn’t respond but that was enough for him to understand the situation as he sighs, rubbing his thumb on your forehead before bringing it close to his lips, placing a family peck upon your temple.

“I’m not mad nor will ever be mad, okay?” You nodded, it doesn’t settle the anxiety in you and Remus knows that, “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Remus changes the topic, get you to relax first before forwarding the situation with you and the fear you had. You looked at him confused at the sudden change of topic before softly smiling to yourself at the thought of your boyfriend.

“It’s Seamus.”

“Seamus?” Remus says, narrowing his eyes, “The pyromantic maniac?”

You nod.

“Well, I guess it’s not Draco,” Remus says as you smiled at your dad, who gives you the same loving smile, “Though, when we’re able to have visitors - we’re not allowing Seamus to use magic. I cannot risk having someone blowing up the house!”

“I mean, that is fair,” You agreed with him, Remus chuckles, “You promise you’re not mad?”

“There’s nothing to be mad about, son, now are you more comfortable to talk about your hand?”

You looked at him, it was now or later and you didn’t want to experience the dread of that conversation. You take a deep inhale and exhale before giving Remus a nod. Your dad perched himself on your bed, preparing to hear your story. 

“I want to hear how you and Seamus got together first, actually.” 

“Really dad?”

[romioneficfest]

I Need You

Title: I Need You

Prompt/Day: 10 - Movie/TV/Book Fusion

Tumblr Name: 

Rating: T / PG 13

Brief Summary: A Romione Ficlet inspired by the TV Show New Girl Season 2: Episode 15 "Cooler"

Any Content Warning: None 

******

“Ron! Ron, please, you need to come quick! I think there’s someone in the flat!” Hermione sends her Otter Patronus off into the night as more scratching turns her attention toward the door of the flat she shares with Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Colin Creevey. Once upon a time, the Ravenclaw had been wary about living with three Gryffindors that she barely knew, but it was funny how time could change everything.

Of all the nights they insist on going off alone to pick up girls and make me stay home!

Hermione shakes her head as she wraps herself in a blanket and keeps her wand pointed toward the door. She’s been living with her current roommates for about a year now. She and Colin work together at the Daily Prophet, and he’d been kind enough to offer up the extra bedroom after overhearing Hermione pour her soul out to her best friend Padma Patil about walking in on Ernie MacMillan, her ex, with another woman.

That pompous, selfish, good for nothing— Hermione’s thoughts are interrupted as Ron’s Terrier Patronus comes soaring through the window.

“Mione, you’re a fully capable witch, and you can handle whatever it is!” The voice of the terrier hushes to a harsh whisper, “I’m about to seal the deal here. Please don’t ruin this for me!”

The terrier disappears, and Hermione’s heart clenches while her stomach twists in knots. The last thing she wants is to ruin Ron’s night. She wants her roommate—no, friend—to have a good time! It’s crazy to think that they started this whole living arrangement completely resenting each other. Now, Ron’s her go-to if she ever needs anything, despite how infuriating he can be. She knows she can always count on him to help her out and to be honest with her.

Hermione’s not intentionally trying to cock block or ruin his night. No! That’s not it at all. At least that’s what she’s forcing herself to believe even as she attempts to dampen the jealous rage that’s swirling within at the thought of him bringing home some tramp.

Jealousy? What? How can I be jealous when I don’t have feelings for Ron. He’s my best friend! And best friends should answer the call when a friend is in need. It’s not like this happens all the time.

 A loud pawing reverberates around the room, and Hermione yelps in surprise. She closes her eyes and concentrates on her happiest thought—the one where the boys took her to North Pole Place on Christmas Eve to see all the muggle light displays in an attempt to cheer her up after a particularly awkward break-up with Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Another otter bursts from her wand to relay the message, “Please, Ron. I need you.”

She wouldn’t ask him if it wasn’t dire, no matter how much she didn’t want to think about him doing things with someone else. Hermione knows that Harry and Colin have been trying to get him over Lavender once and for all, and tonight is yet another feeble attempt to help Ron find another girl. She’s given up on him harboring any feelings for her by now, despite the awkward tension that seems to build when they’re left alone for too long.

It’s preposterous; I can’t possibly fancy him. We fight all the time. Things would never—

A whoosh sounds behind her from the fireplace, and a figure emerges from the emerald green flames. Relief floods Hermione’s veins as a sense of comfort surrounds her.

“Ron, you came! Oh, I knew you were my knight in shining armor!” Hermione knows she’s laying it on thick, but the look of fury on his face tells her that he needs the ego boost.

“I swear Hermione, it better be bloody Voldemort’s Inferi on the other side of that door! You have no idea what the hell you just pulled me from! Colin said he’d hold Seamus off, but I know he’s already swooped in on her anyways.”

Ron runs a hand through his hair in frustration before taking off his jacket and throwing it forcefully onto the back of the sofa. Hermione can’t help it as she rushes over and throws her arms around Ron.

“I’m sorry. I swear there’s something there!”

Ron pulls away, and Hermione hopes that her tactic has softened him up a bit. He sighs heavily before pulling out his wand. He looks through the peephole before casting Homenum Revelio.

“No one’s out there, Hermione. Are you sure you’re not hearing the ghoul on the roof?” he says through gritted teeth.

Hermione winces as Ron’s annoyance returns. Merlin, he has anger issues.

“The ghoul wasn’t knocking on the door!” she half lies. Hermione never checked on the ghoul, but she wasn’t going to tell that to Ron.

“Hermione, I can’t believe you ruined my night for the bloody ghoul!”

“Well, what was I supposed to do, Ron? You abandoned me tonight! I used to be perfectly independent until I started living here with you three. Now I depend on you all too much! You didn’t even give me a chance to owl Susan to see if she wanted to come over! No! You just expected me to sit here and read a book, wallowing in self-pity. So, you know what? That’s what happens when you try and leave me out of things!”

“Yes, Hermione, that’s what all this was about! Punishing you by leaving you here alone. Last I checked, we didn’t lock the door and force you to stay here by yourself! It’s not like you signed a clause in the contract that states you have to stay here if we go out without you! Why does it always have to be about you?”

The sound of a loud crash ricochets in the air surrounding them, causing them to freeze mid-argument.

“What was that?” Hermione whispers.

Hermione looks on as Ron turns toward the source of the sound, which consequently turns from a crash to the ever-present scratching.

Oh. Maybe the noises were coming from the free hutch I pulled off the street the other day.

Ron turns to look at her. “Didn’t Harry tell you there might be a Boggart in that?”

Hermione smiles weakly. “Maybe?”

Ron’s ears turn red and a thunderous look crosses his face. “Take care of it. Now.”

Hermione has no choice but to walk up to the cabinet. She’s battled Boggarts before. This will be fine. It’ll probably be the image of a late report or a reprimanding from a superior. Nothing Ron doesn’t know about. She opens the cupboard and the creature appears, quickly taking its form to reflect her biggest fear.

The boggart surprises Hermione as it shifts into the three boys, all telling her they don’t like her, they’ve found a new roommate and she needs to move out. Hermione knows it’s not true as she casts Riddikulus, and it changes into her boss firing her. Another cast of Riddikulus, and then the Boggart shifts to Ron with another woman, whose face is masked, and they’re doing things.

Hermione stands there, unmoving, watching the fake scene play out in front of her. “No, I—Ri—” she attempts.

She can’t do it. She turns to run to her room, just like in third year, but as she brushes past Ron, he grabs her arm. Ron pulls her back, and suddenly his lips are on hers. She’s overcome with shock at first, but that quickly subsides, and Hermione’s hands move of their own accord to clutch at his shoulders as she opens her mouth to deepen the kiss. His strong hands move up and down her back, pushing her closer against his body.

They break apart long enough for Hermione to look into his ocean blue eyes. “You know this makes the boggart’s shape even more genuine now, don’t you?” she breathes.

“You’ll never have to worry about that, ‘Mione,” he reassures her. “Bedroom?”

Hermione nods, and in one quick movement, he picks her up and whisks her away to his room.

The next thing Hermione knows is her alarm is sounding as she begrudgingly peeks through her lashes to see sunlight flooding through the window. “What the…” she mutters as she rubs her eyes.

“Everything alright, love?” Ron asks as he rolls over, draping an arm over her stomach.

“Er, yes,” Hermione says as she tries to make sense of her dream. “I think we’ve been watching too much muggle television. For a moment, I thought we’d joined the cast of New Girl.”

Ron laughs. “Don’t tell me you dreamt we were Nick and Jess,” he chuckles into her shoulder, “that’s mental!”

Hermione smiles as she recalls their dream kiss. They were so Nick and Jess, but she shakes the thought from her mind, choosing to keep the images to herself.

“Yes, mental indeed.”

[sapphirelass]

Not you too... - Neville LongbottomXSister!Reader

Hi! So... it’s been a while, but I’ve been extremely busy with school work and... well to be honest that’s my only excuse XD Anyhow, with maths and physics exams out of the way, it’s finally time for a new uplifting story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈1600

Warnings: Torture, The Cruciatus Curse,  The Carrows, Light swearing, Extreme angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You probably already know this, but still XD

Y/N = Your name

Y/N/N = Your nickname

Y/H = Your house

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1998

March

Hogwarts

“Well, well, well… What do we have here?!”

The frightened first-year trembled and tried to back away.

“I...I.. I was just on my way to the Ravenclaw com…”

Alecto grabbed his jumper and pinned him to the wall.

“Oh I don’t think so! This isn’t the first time we’ve caught you wandering around, Matthews, and I’m afraid we can’t let you get away with it…”

Amycus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the young boy’s throat.

“DON’T YOU DARE!!”

A furious sixth year (Y/H) sprinted through the corridor, her right hand clutched around her wand.

“Leave him alone! He’s eleven!? And has done nothing wrong! Levicorpus!”

Amycus was hoisted into the air by his ankle as the older student carefully approached the younger.

“Hey, are you oka-”

But before even getting a chance to comfort the boy, the tip of a wand was pressed forcefully against her throat. The young Ravenclaw knew better than to stick around, especially when Alecto Carrow disarmed his saviour and pushed her against the wall.

“Longbottom… No bloody surprise there, c’mon!”

Amycus was back on his feet and, sadly, a fight between one wandless sixteen year old and two death eaters could barely even be called a fight. The Carrows grabbed an arm each, and made their way towards the dungeons.

***

Neville was, despite the gloomy atmosphere, in high spirits. It was Friday, his last class of the day had been herbology, and he hadn’t received detention a single time that week. He entered the common room and sat down on the sofa with a copy of A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions. Later that night, Ginny Weasley and Seamus Finnigan climbed through the portrait hole and approached him slowly.

“Hey!”, he said, “Everything good?”

“Neville… Where’s (Y/N)? Is she okay?”

Neville frowned, “Wha.. Why shouldn’t she be? Where is she anyways, I thought she was with you?!”

“Neville…”, Seamus began, putting a hand on his shoulder, “She-”

“What, Seamus!?”

“She ran into the Carrows.... They were threatening some Ravenclaw first-year and she interfered before she could help herself.”

Neville felt his blood run cold.

“So? What did they do? Where is she?”

“I don’t know, we thought she would be back by now… We… we thought she was with you.”

Neville closed his book, not bothering to look for a bookmark, and left without a word. He didn’t dare to think about what could have happened to his sister, but he knew that he had to find her. Making his way through the corridors, he kept trying to tell himself that she was fine. That she was okay. That he would find her unharmed. Deep down, he knew it was highly improbable, but one can hope, right?

***

“Incarcerous!”

A thick, bloodstained rope wrapped itself tightly around her wrists and ankles, effectively preventing any movements or attempts to escape.

“You, Longbottom - you and your ‘good-for-nothing’ brother have had your fun. I think it’s about time we teach you a little lesson.”

She sent the professor an angry glare. “So you’re finally going to start then?”

“What?”, Alecto spat

“Well, you are our teachers after all. One would think you would have planned on teaching us stuff from the beginning - it is your bloody job - but I’m glad you finally wanna give it a go…”

With a furious look on his face, Amycus grabbed (Y/N)’s jumper and threw her violently to the floor. He charged and delivered a rough, well placed kick to her cheek before pulling out his wand.

“You really are a stupid little blood traitor, aren’t you? Do you honestly believe you’ll get out of here unharmed?”

“That kick was rather nasty so no, I think it’s too la…”

Her response was interrupted by a swift wand movement followed by a single word.

“Crucio!!”

(Y/N) let out an ear piercing scream and began shaking violently. It wasn’t unexpected, yet she had feared this moment her entire life, and the realization that the time had finally arrived was just as horrifying as the pain itself.

“Maybe that’ll teach you something. Then again, your family never were the brightest of our kind, were they? Not even this lovely curse got the message across so… perhaps a few more times would suffice!”

The death eaters smirked evilly.

“CRUCIO!!”

“CRUCIO!!”

“CRUCIO!!”

***

Hours later the torture momentarily ceased, and (Y/N)’s pained screams had drifted further and further towards what most would call hoarse whimpering. She was shaking, struggled to breathe, and no longer fully capable of taking in all that happened around her.

“Well, well, well… looking rather shaken, Longbottom. Had enough yet? What do you reckon, sister?”

Alecto looked down at the trembling sixteen year old with disgust.

“It does seem like the message has sunken in… But don’t you, dearest brother, feel like we should grant her some more… long lasting evidence of what she went through? Something more... physical?”

“What a splendid suggestion! Will you do me the honours?”

“Gladly!”

She pulled a small dagger from her cloak, though (Y/N) had by the time almost passed out and lacked the strength to turn around and look. The girl lay motionless on the cold floor as her teacher grabbed her (Y/H) robes and threw them roughly into a messy pile. Alecto rested her hand on (Y/N)’s collarbone, and repeatedly pierced her delicate skin.

A couple of minutes later, the siblings stood back to admire their work and muttered sectumsempra before finally leaving and locking the door behind them.

(Y/N) still didn’t react, but was moments later resting in a puddle of her own thick, red, hot blood.

***

“Y/N/N)?!”

“(Y/N/N)?!!!”

“(Y..Y/N/N)..?”

As soon as Neville laid eyes on his sister, he ran up to her and pulled her into his arms. The word ‘traitor’ written across her neck caused him to look away for a moment, but he held her close. She was unconscious and her breathing was very shallow, but there was no doubt about it - she was alive!

“(Y/N), please wake up for me. Please”

She was barely bleeding anymore, but had lost copious amounts of blood and was in need of immediate medical care.

“Neville, we’ve got to bring her up to the Room of Requirement.”

“But she needs healing!?”

“Yes, but it’s not safe here. They might return, c’mon.”

“Fine, let me just…”

He bent down and untied the ropes before picking her up. Seamus brought the cloak and they left the dungeons hoping that they, for the love of Merlin, would make it without getting caught.

***

“I...not..that!”

“Nev… just saying… don’t know… she’ll… what they did!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m gonna give up!?”

At first it was all incoherent, but eventually she started to pick up full sentences. The pain did however return as soon as she woke up, and she groaned slightly, causing the conversation to die out.

Her brother was by her side in an instant.

“(Y/N/N)!? How… I.. Are you okay? Here, let me help you!”

He reached out to help her into a sitting position, but she flinched and moved away from his touch. This reaction caused his heart to completely shatter, and he raised his hands in surrender as a few tears left his eyes.

“(Y/N/N)”, he muttered carefully, “it’s just me. I’m not going to hurt you, I could never…”

She looked back at him, eyes filled with dread and an uncertainty completely unlike anything he had ever seen before.

“C’mon , (Y/N/N)”, Seamus said as he put a hand on her shoulder, “‘tis just us.”

This move, though a very gentle one, caused her to quickly withdraw further as her breath quickened.

“Shut up Seamus”, said Ginny angrily, pulling their Irish friend away as Neville sat down on his knees. He was careful not to touch his sister - the thought of him scaring her being far too much for him to handle - and then placed his wand on a table a few feet away.

“(Y/N/N)”, he said, once again holding his hands up in surrender, “I won’t hurt you, okay, just… do you know where you are?”

She didn’t respond, but did however look less terrified than before. Deep inside, Neville realized that (Y/N) calming down should make him feel better, but there was something about her that gave him the creeps… There was something uncomfortably familiar about her posture, the nervous shifting and the way she seemed to be staring into nothing, yet he found himself unable to put his finger on it.

Then it hit him. He immediately understood who she reminded him of: 

Their Parents

He closed his eyes tightly and shuddered at the thought. It-it wasn’t possible! It couldn’t be...Neville Longbottom had never been so afraid in his life, but he knew what he had to do. He had to ask. He had to know.

“(Y/N/N)?”, he repeated softly, “(Y/N/N), do you know who I am?”

Not receiving an immediate response worried him, but he gave it the benefit of the doubt - Maybe she just needed some time?

So he waited.

30 seconds.

And waited.

A minute.

And waited.

Five minutes.

No answer.

That’s when it burst. Neville broke down completely. He put his head in his hands and let the tears flow freely, having absolutely no desire to stop them.

“No…”, he stuttered, “No, no, no...not... not you too…”

“Not you too”

~ L

Masterlist

[angeli-marco-writes]

Dean & Seamus - At Last

A/N - 1.8k word blurb I completely forgot I wrote. Bringing this out of the archives, enjoy.

Warnings - slight cursing and angst, fluff, mutual pining.

Summary - Years of tiptoeing around one another and hidden feelings come to a head when Seamus finds a stack of art beneath Dean's bed. At last, something might happen.

“Hey Dean?” Seamus calls, breaking the silence of the half empty common room.

The two of them sitting together on opposite ends of a very comfortable and very small sofa with feet entangled in a contorted knot is not a rare occurrence, and everyone knows that the two like to be as close as possible. Dean has a notepad on the arm of the sofa, artistic pencils on the coffee table as he sketches away to his heart's content, while Seamus has a pack of muggle cards, teaching himself card tricks.

“What is it?” Dean replies, glancing up from his notepad to meet Seamus’ sympathetic gaze.

“Do you still have that muggle magic book? This isn’t going great.”

Dean chuckles, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm, deep brown eyes twinkling under the dim light from the candles. The way he watches Seamus when he isn’t looking is with nothing but pure adoration, not necessarily the way that friends should look at one another.

“Dean?” Seamus calls, suddenly much closer than before, kneeling in front of Dean’s legs now curled beneath him without his knowledge of putting them there.

“Uhm, the book? Yeah, it's under my bed. Careful you don’t find a banshee under there.” Dean says jokingly, curving his arm around Seamus’ torso to bring him closer, discarding his art for a moment, savouring the sound of Seamus’ laugh like music to his ears.

He stops thinking, and just exists for a second, only able to do that when Seamus is so close to him, chests pressed together, hearts beating as one, breath mingling and all inhibitions lowered. If he had a little more belief that Seamus shared his crush then he’d go the final step, bringing their lips together for more than a fleeting moment. If only he knew that Seamus in fact felt the same, equally as strong, equally as lovesick and just as scared of rejection. So for the meantime, they stuck to their own personal affections.

“I’ll be back in a minute, and I’ll call you if there’s a banshee.”

With a fleeting kiss that Dean pressed to Seamus’ cheek, the latter had disappeared up the stone stairs to the dorms.

On his way up, Seamus finds himself thinking non stop of the way Dean’s soft lips felt pressed against his cheek. Not like they haven’t kissed before, but every time it excites him, still bringing butterflies to his stomach after four years.

Their first kiss was in a game of juvenile truth or dare in second year, where Seamus revealed he’d never been kissed, and Dean was then dared to kiss him. That was the moment, for Seamus at least, that he’d realised he was gay - or at the very least, not straight.

It was half way through third year that the two had grown accustomed to holding hands and sharing clothes, stealing cheek kisses and cuddling on the odd night. None of this changed, even now they’ve become sixth years.

Seamus throws the door open to the dorm and leaps across to Dean’s bed, forever more comfortable than his own. He lies over it, inhaling Dean’s scent that he’s so used to wrapping him up whenever he sleeps. Oak and paint. The strangest perfection. After a moment of thought, he pulls up the west ham blanket, the oversized knitted quilt that the two made one Christmas night when they got far too cold, and finally the red sheets so that he gets a better look beneath the bed, which just so happens to be crammed full of random shit.

“Bloody hell Dean,” he sighs with a gentle smile, lighting his wand and sliding off the bed onto the wooden floor, preparing himself for a search.

Seamus sits and sifts through piles of books covered in dust, albeit in neat piles and just about alphabetised (all much more organised than his own), and a couple of boxes before he finds their old magic book.

Just as he moves to put everything back in its place, he comes across a locked trunk of chestnut wood and gold edges. It’s triple locked by the looks of padlocks atop the built in securities. But Seamus can’t help thinking, what does Dean have to hide from him? He’s always said “what’s mine is yours”, and that they know everything about one another. What could Dean possibly be so ashamed of that he didn’t even want Seamus to see? Chuckling at the first immediate thought, he pulls the box out and peers through a crack. It looks like… old notebooks?

“Cistem Aperio.” he utters the words used to unlock the trunk, only to find out that the padlock is a fake one and that the box itself only had one lock. Maybe the faux measures were to stop the other boys finding it, and not Seamus, but once opened, he’s astounded.

Piles of notepads and sketch pads fill the border of the box, but what’s in the centre is the most disconcerting. It’s Seamus, on canvas, ten times over. All from different angles, painted with watercolour or acrylics, all at different stages of completion because on some, the pencil lines are still apparent. Sure, Seamus knows that Dean is a bloody good artist, and Dean’s asked him to be a model once or twice, but this is another level. And even though he probably should, he can’t find it creepy.

He turns over a couple of the older canvases dating back to the bottom one, a mix of acrylic paint and heavy pencil shading. ‘Seamus, 7th April 1994; I wonder if you think of me half as often as I think of you.’

His heart stops just for a moment. Does dean… no chance. No way, there’s no way that Dean fancies him too. He could have anyone in the school, why would he fancy his dorky Irish friend?

He takes out a couple of the pads, opening to reveal pages of sketches of Seamus. The two together, Seamus at the lunch table, by the lake, with other people or asleep in Dean’s bed. Just the sight of Dean’s talent makes his belly flip. The curved pencil lines, the soft brushes of his coloured pencils, the perfect shading wherever it needs to be in the different photos. Each one has Dean’s signature, a date and a title in the bottom right hand corner., but some are a little more smudged with, tears?

He grabs the most recent sketchpad and tucks it beneath his arm, going to open a note pad filled with dozens of poems and quotes, but the most common one hits him hard.

‘You have to let it all go. The way he kissed you, the way he smelled, the way he touched your waist and pulled you in. You have to let it go and you have to let him go. Because he’ll never love you that way, he’ll always be your friend, and he’ll never be yours.’

That’s essentially all the confirmation that Seamus needs to realise that Dean’s liked him all this time. How could they have been so stupid, avoiding each other and never confessing?

He rips the page out of the notebook and runs out the door, the leather bound sketch pad bouncing in his clutch. He bounds down the stairs as ungracefully as possible, taking them two by two, his shoes resounding on the stone and hereby making a racket that the whole common room can here.

Seamus appears at the bottom, breathless and flushed as opposed to covered in soot, but his eyes are filled with a new flame.

“Dean,” he pants, eyes darting over to where he's curled up in the same spot as before, knees tucked under his chin with an art pad on the arm of the sofa, tucking his extortionately expensive pencil behind his ear when he sees Seamus all hot and bothered.

He stands, towering over everyone as he takes quick strides across the room, his breath hitching when he sees the sketchpad tucked haphazardly beneath Seamus’ small arm.

“Sea, please,” he begs, eyes brimming with tears to match Seamus’.

They stand an awkward distance from each other for a minute before Seamus takes the final step and closes the gap, gripping Dean’s tie and pulling him a little closer to his own height.

“Did you draw these of me?” Seamus asks with a raspy, trembling voice, filled with anguish and longing.

“Yes.” Dean murmurs softly.

“Did you write these poems about me?” he waves the tear stained page of perfect ink in front of Dean, making the taller boy swallow thickly.

“Yes.”

“Were you ever going to tell or show me?”

“Maybe one day.” Dean says guiltily, averting his eyes to the floor for only a second before meeting Seamus’ intense gaze once more, the flames behind the freckles on his cheeks a little intimidating.

“Do you, do you love me?” Seamus asks finally, taking a leap of faith, one that is finally reciprocated.

“Yes. Yes, so much.”

That’s all the ammunition that Seamus needs to tug Dean’s lips to his own, crushing them together and engaging in a fiery kiss of nothing but long awaited passion and love. Their tears dissipate as Seamus weaves his arms around Dean’s neck, and his curl around Seamus’ waist, lifting him up like he weighs nothing. Seamus deepens the kiss, licking along Dean's bottom lip to request an entrance which is more than eagerly granted, allowing them to explore each other's mouths finally. Dean lets out a muffled moan when Seamus bites down on his lower lip, the most heavenly sound Seamus has ever heard. Dean squeezes the ass that rests on his hips just for a moment before sliding his hands beneath his jumper, his dark palms running over Seamus’ milky skin, the perfect contradiction.

They become so enveloped in their bubble of passion, tongues dancing tantalisingly together, that they forget they’re in the common room, awkwardly withdrawing when the need for oxygen becomes too dire.

However, instead of the angry shouts and disgruntled faces they expect, it’s actually faces of sheer relief and lazy smiles all around.

“About bloody time!” Ron shouts.

Dean chuckles softly, lowering Seamus to the ground. The pair scrabble for their stuff, grasping it in uncoordinated handfuls, stuttering apologies before darting upstairs. Once at their dorm, they slam the door shut and throw their belongings elsewhere without a care, fighting over who gets to pin the other against the door.

“Have we really been dancing around our feelings since we were twelve?” Dean asks, trying to keep his focus on the time being while Seamus works tirelessly at the bottoms of his shirt, leaving kisses everywhere in his wake.

“Yes we have. And that means we have five years to make up for now.” Seamus quips, bringing Dean’s lips to his own once more, moving to enjoy their time together, at last.

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 5.5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: wizards experiencing muggle items, one line about sexual temptation, illegal bribery

A/N: LMAO WHY IS THE HALF CHAPTER LONGER THAN CHAPTER 5 PLS THIS IS SO EMBARASSING

(Y/n) rubbed the sleep from her eyes, still tired despite going through her entire morning routine. Although she was exhausted, she also felt an extreme burst of excitement. Although she grew up wealthy for a small portion of her life, her parents had never liked to travel. They much preferred sticking to themselves and associating with other pure bloods. The furthest they had ever traveled was from their main home to their summer home and even then the two weren’t that far from one another. She nuzzled into Neville’s neck further, tightening her grasp around him as he carried her down the stairs.

When they got to the landing, he brought them to the main living room where everyone was waiting. She heard a familiar squeal causing her eyes to snap open just in time to see a camera flash.

“Sorry you guys are just so cute together! Plus who knew you were this adorable when you’re sleepy?” Twyla said, cooing as she walked over and pinching the girl’s cheek. She grumbled, smacking her hand away as she buried her head back in Neville’s neck.

“Twyla? What are you doing here? You’re coming too?” she asked, watching as the girl nodded, jumping in excitement. Her (e/c) eyes narrowed as she peeked at her. “Really? I also suspect that you requested this time off?” the blonde scratched the back of her neck, backing away from the girl slowly.

“Listen, (Y/n), baby, dear boss of mine. Permission to have time off in order to go to Italy?” she pleaded, flashing her a sickly sweet smile. 

“Request denied.” she replied almost instantaneously. She giggled some at the girl’s reaction, trying to keep the straight face she had going on. But she couldn’t, Twyla’s over dramatic scene she was causing was far too funny. “I’m only kidding Twy, there’s no one I’d rather spend time in a new country with. Well, maybe there is.” Neville squeezed at her thighs, lifting her up higher at the announcement. He went to tease her before Harrison cleared his throat, standing on a stool so the mass of people could see him.

“Alright well I’ve got some news.” he started but was cut short.

“Good or bad?” the twins said in unison, glaring at each other for having the same thought.

“Well, it’s news. Because there’s so many of us, it’d be a bit strange for us to use floo powder. It’d cause way too much attention which would already have people quite suspicious about our visit.” he said, clasping his hands together. “Which means we’ll be using muggle transportation.” The main eight chimed up, all their speech lapping over each other. Twyla whistled, causing them all to stop speaking. “Thank you. Now if there’s any questions, please ask them one at a time.”

“How the hell are we gonna drive to Italy?! Can cars go in the water?” Seamus blurted out, causing everyone in the room to give him a disappointed look. Ron smacked the back of his head, letting out a troubled sigh.

“Whoever said there was no such thing as a dumb question must’ve never met you, Finnegan.” Harrison said in a fake sweet tone. “We’re going by plane which means we’ll need to go through the muggle airport.” Neville cleared his throat, causing everyone to turn their attention to him.

“And what about our guns? Weapons? Correct me if I’m wrong, but those can’t be taken through airport security.” he said, everyone else to make noises of agreement. The bearded man sucked on his teeth, releasing a soft breath.

“Well, we’re all smart, capable people. Plus you know muggles, money talks with them. Shouldn’t be too hard to get ourselves through with our weapons intact.” he said, causing everyone to go into thought about what they’d do to evade security. “Any more questions?”

“Yeah, how long are we going to be there for? I sorta have a job.” Twyla said. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, squinting them at the back of the girl’s head which caused a small jolt of electricity to shock her. She let out a yelp, glaring knowingly at the girl. “I know that was you!”

“Alright if there’s no more questions, let’s get to the airport!”

---------------------------------

As they got out of the car, (Y/n) looked around in awe. The airport had to be one of the busiest places she’d ever been, and she attended Hogwarts. Many different tunnels, windows, and levels all stacked as high as her sight could reach. The worst part of it all was the abundance of people, especially with them being muggles. It wasn’t that she disliked them, it was more so she feared them. She constantly felt anxious like they could see right through her and would call her out on the spot. As she felt her breath get shallow, she ran up to Neville clinging to his arm as they walked. He looked down at her smiling before intertwining their fingers.

She gasped as the door walked open automatically as they went through, eyes growing wide. Neville heard the noise looking down at her. She gave him a confused look. “I thought you said there was no magic here?” she said, confused by how the doors were doing that. He chuckled some, pecking the top of her head.

“There isn’t. It’s all muggle technology. If you think that’s cool, I’m curious what your reaction to the plane will be.” 

(Y/n) kept close to the tall man’s side, ignoring the weird looks they were receiving. She couldn’t blame them. Her and Neville were complete opposites. It was as if they both climbed out of two separate books and had formed a new one which in a way, they had. Everyone continued to follow Harrison, watching as he slid a large numbered bill to the man. He moved out of the way, letting them skip the line before they got to the metal detectors. (Y/n) began to sweat nervously knowing that every single man with her right now was fully armed and loaded.

“I’ve got this, don’t worry mini boss!” Seamus said, walking up to the front of the line. Neville groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat as he stepped up to the short man in the uniform. The man crossed his arms, glaring up at him. “Hello…” he trailed off, looking at the nametag on the man, “Alfredo! Listen, why don’t you be a champ and let us by?” he said, handing the man a few 20s. However, he didn’t budge.

“You think I’m going to let you through for 40 bucks?” he snapped. “I happen to take my job as an airport security member very seriously. I’d have half the mind to call the cops on you right now for not wanting to follow the mandatory metal detector procedure.” At this point the girl was shaking. Blaise rolled his eyes, walking up to the man. He gave him a charismatic smirk. Grabbing the man’s hand he placed a kiss on his knuckles.

“Alfredo, right?” he asked, watching as the boy nodded along in a trance. “Charmed. I’m Blaise Zabini. Listen, I know my friend here insulted your character and you seem like a very nice, good boy,” he purred, staring into his eyes intently. Whipping out his wallet he pulled out four hundred dollar bills tucking them into the boy’s front pocket, leaving his hand to linger there. “So why don’t you let us through, yeah? And maybe when I come back you can give me a call.” The boy stumbled behind the machine, looking both ways before turning off the sensors. They all began to quickly file through before anyone would notice. Blaise being the last one threw the man a wink before catching up with his friends.

“That’s not fair! Blaise has pretty privilege!” Seamus whined, causing Fred to snort.

“Perhaps you should invest in some then. You seemed like you could use it back there.” he said, snickering as George joined in. Draco even gave a few chuckles before covering it with a cough.

(Y/n) looked around the airport, still curious about everything. Sure Hogwarts had a few moving floors and stairs that moved but these were..different? Maybe they were some more of that muggle technology Neville had mentioned earlier.

“You see that?” the boss said, pointing to a set of the moving stairs. She nodded, continuing to eye them curiously. “Those are called escalators. You stand on them and they move. We’re about to get on one in a second!” she gulped at that but nodded.

“U-um, will you hold my hand on it? It’s kinda scary..” she asked, jumping in surprise as he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her into his chest, embracing her tightly.

“God, you're so precious. Of course I’ll hold your hand.” he reached his hand out, grabbing her smaller one in his large one. As they neared it, she found she wasn’t as nervous as she had been previously. Especially not with the twins running up the wrong side, screaming at each other in confusion about why they weren’t moving anywhere.

“They seem to be out of order!” George said, continuing to run up them. Ron turned around glaring at his pathetic older brothers.

“They’re not broken, you’re just on the wrong side, idiots! Why do you think we got on this one?” he yelled to them, watching as they froze. As they reached the landing again they ran up the correct side, giving Ron a smack on the back of the head as they passed him.

“Oh you know, for flavor!”

As they neared the terminal, her eyes began to sparkle with curiosity. Even though the majority of it was covered by the window panes, she could see bits of the different planes in between.

“Alright for most of you, this is your spot. The boarding should be beginning soon so keep an ear peeled.” Harrison said. The extra men that had come with the nodded before making their way to the long line. They looked very out of place compared to everyone else in line. Although some had disguised themselves in Hawaiian shirts, a lot of them still adorned their usual attire of all black suits. (Y/n) went to join them but was pulled back, the tattooed man giving her a look.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To get on the plane? I thought we were taking one?” she said, a lost look on her face. He smiled at her, dragging her along.

“Oh we are, we’re just taking one of our own.” he said, a smug look present on his face. She went to ask him what he meant but stopped as they made it to a private section of the airport, walking straight through a terminal with no line. 

“Woah! This is yours, Nev?” she asked, running around the interior. It was larger than she thought it’d be. There were a few couches inside along with a few cushioned chairs. Tables were embedded into the ground, stationed around the various seats.

“Yep! All mine, petal. Only the best for you, pretty girl.” Her heart began to race at the name, looking back at him with a smile. 

“Geez, he really is Mr.Moneybags! This thing is loaded, bigger than any plane I’ve ever been on.” Twyla chimed, throwing herself onto one of the couches with a sigh. Draco took a seat beside her, lifting her legs into his lap.

“I have one too, you know.” he said, causing her to jerk up. Giving him a teasing smile, she pinched his cheek lovingly.

“Aww! Dray’s so cute when he’s jealous! C’mere!” she said, lunging forward onto the man as she covered his face in kisses. (Y/n) giggled some letting out a small scream as a pair of arms pulled her back. Neville nuzzled his nose into her neck before littering kisses all over her face.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. You look so cute when you’re excited.” she smiled at his words, hiding her face in his chest. She still had yet to ask him about the room situation. There was only 2 hours till they were set to land so if she wanted to get it out, she had better do it soon.

“Hey Nev? I-I-I was wondering i-if you wanted to maybe..maybe um...share a room together?” Neville froze at the words, the movement of his hands ceasing. Had she really just said what he thought she had? So many thoughts were running through his head, some less savory than others. “I just thought it would be nice. I know you’ll probably be busy during the day so I-I’d enjoy being able to be with you at night. N-not like that! I just-”

“Of course, baby. I’d love to.” he said, turning her around so he could place a kiss on her lips. Before he could begin to deepen it, a childish chorus of ooo’s echoed across the plane. He pulled away, rolling his eyes as he pulled out his gun. “I’m not above using this. I don’t care how high we are.”

--------------------

An hour into the flight, things had really taken off. During the small duration of time, many blunts had been rolled, meals had been eaten, and alcohol had been consumed. (Y/n) found herself looking out the window, admiring the way the clouds flew by them seemingly weightless. Her attention was pulled away from the sound of a glass breaking along with a loud thud. Seamus was on the ground, his shirt tied around his shoulders like a cape. 

“I don’t think I can drink another round. You two win.” he said, commending the twins for their effort. They exchanged a look before beginning to cackle.

“We were drinking water the whole time! Do you really think we’d drink 14 shots a piece?! Man, what a moron you are, Finnegan.” Fred said, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. George nodded along, slapping his knee in amusement.

“Right before we have to scope out the place too? Boss isn’t gonna be too happy with you.” he said in a sing-song voice. (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. She knew what it was like to go and mess things up before something important. Lifting her purse, she began sifting through it carefully, stopping once she found what she had been looking for. Walking over to the boy she handed him a small potion vile.

“Here, drink this. I always give this to Twyla when she shows up black out at my house. It should sober you up in a few minutes.” The boy looked at her like she was a god before drinking the thick liquid.

“God, who knew the boss would get such a useful girlfriend? Thanks (Y/n)! ‘Ppreciate it.” he said, handing her the now empty bottle. Her face began to heat up at his words.

“O-oh I’m not his-”

“(Y/n)! Come here, I wanna show you something.” he said, motioning her over to the chair. She nodded before walking over to him, sitting in the chair. “Okay, ready?” he asked, waiting for her approval. She nodded, sending him a smile. With a press of a button, the chair she was in began vibrating, light pressure being applied to her back. She practically purred at the feeling, closing her eyes.

“What is this?” she asked, words bumping together from the sensation of the chair. He chuckled before sitting beside her, grabbing her hand in his.

“It’s called a massage chair. It’s a muggle invention. Nice innit?” he asked, watching as she purred some more, nodding brainlessly. His eyes traveled over her relaxed expression, tracing all the curves and contour of her face. However, he couldn’t help the tightening of his pants when she began to moan in pleasure at the feeling of the muggle device. If he could barely get through this, how was he supposed to survive an entire mission with her? Especially one where they’d be sleeping in the same bed, every night? 

“Showers, a lot of cold showers.” he muttered to himself. He smiled once he realized she had fallen asleep, deciding to join her in slumber.

PREVIOUS||NEXT

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[loonyluna]

some hedric + rose being a cutie

Harry didn't think he was a violent person. 

But at that moment, he had to restrain himself from walking over to his longtime friend and roommate, with whom he got along fine most of the time, and beat him up. The muggle way.

For what you may ask? Well that answer was simple, not that Harry would ever admit it to himself or anyone else. That he was jealous. Jealous of the way Seamus kept making Cedric laugh and jealous of the way his hand kept lingering on his shoulder. For Merlin’s sake did he not have a boyfriend? Then why was he so handsy with other men?

Harry tightened his grip on his 2nd(read 5th) glass of firewhiskey.

He had no right to be jealous, because after all he was the one who decided they needed a break.

He took a long sip of his drink before a voice broke his thoughts.

“Hullo Harry, enjoying yourself this evening?” Ginny the owner chirped.

He grunted something in return.

Ginny stared at him before following his gaze towards the two laughing men and chuckled.

“Oh Harold, how in Merlin’s name are you an auror? Cause last time i checked you were supposed to pay attention to things.”

“What do you mean?” Harry questioned, confused.

“I mean you and Cedric of course! Both of you are obviously still in love with each other. I might be aromantic but I'm not blind.” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry started to deny it but Ginny interrupted him. 

“Do you even remember why you two even broke up?”     

Does he remember- of course he does. They both- no he thought that they needed some space. Cedric had been against it at first but reluctantly agreed.

“You thought it'd be for the best if you two took a break. Why? Merlin knows, you think differently than us normal folk. Anyways my point is that you should get him back because you love him and he makes you happy. And after the shitshow you went through you deserve some happiness.” Ginny finished, quite proud of herself.

“Wow Ginny i don't know what to say-,” Harry started but was promptly cut off.

“You don't have to say anything, just go get your boy. Oh godric is that luna and neville behind the curtains? I've got to cockblock them again. Bye Harry! Don’t be an idiot! Aw, I love being the mom friend.”

And with that the redhead practically skipped away.

Harry started thinking again now that he was alone. 

Was he still in love with Cedric? Probably but did Cedric love him as well? Was he really that oblivious? Also probably. 

His thoughts were disrupted when raucous laughter could be heard from the direction of Seamus and his ex-boyfriend, who (according to Ginny) he was still in love with, which was proved when Harry decided to walk over there.

Cedric was saying something but stopped when he caught the green eyes walking over to him. 

“Hi.” he breathed out.

Harry was about to reply before a flurry of red hair ran towards the ex-hufflepuff and jumped into his arms, shrieking “uncle Cedric”.

“Merlin, she runs so fast.” came in Ron Weasley panting. “You okay? Mate?”

“Yeah i'm fine, besides i missed my rosie too.”

“You wouldn't have to if Daddy and Mummy let me come visit you and uncle Harry.” The little girl crossed her arms and glared at her father.

The comment about Harry and Cedric laid a thick layer of awkwardness over the group.

“So Ron, where is my best friend?” asked Harry, trying to lighten the mood.

“You little shit-,” Ron started but was swiftly cut off by his daughter reprimanding him about how she’d lost count of how many coins he needed to put into the swear jar.

“You’re hermione’s daughter alright,she saw astoria malfoy on the way here and all of us were going to go talk to her, but this one-” Ron pointed at the girl in Cedric’s arms,accusingly “-saw you guys and ran.”

“Well is it my fault i hadn't seen Uncle cedric in ages?” 

“Oh will you stop bringing that up!”

“Never.” 

“You're so bloody stubborn you know that?”

“I’m your daughter!”

“Ok ok, i think that's enough.” Cedric cut off the squabbling father daughter duo, chuckling. 

Harry’s heart tightened at the sight, it was like they had been back at one of their weekly game nights with the granger-weasleys.

But it wasn't, they hadn't had one of those in quite some time, hence rose’s tantrum.

Rose adored Cedric so much, Harry didn't have the heart to tell her that Uncle Harry and Uncle Cedric were not living together anymore, that's why she hadn't been able to visit the both of them.

“So how have all of you been?” Harry asked that question to everyone, but it was more directed to the brunette that had been haunting his thoughts.

Before he could answer however, two women dressed in heavy blazers entered the store, chatting away animatedly about some obnoxious book written by some Lockhart fellow. Lockhart. Hmmm, the name sounded quite familiar.

Harry whispered a quiet “Thank God,” to Hermione and Astoria Malfoy, who had five year old Scorpius Malfoy clinging to her skirts. Harry reckoned he was about the same age as Rosie.

Hermione, who seemed to finally have noticed her husband and best friend, loudly exclaimed and went over to hug Harry and smiled warmly at Cedric. People who were already whispering began whispering even louder at the arrival of the Minister of Magic.

“Mommy! Mommy! Daddy won’t stop swearing and-” Rose began excitedly, but her voice faltered as her eyes dropped to meet the little blonde boy’s. A bright red flush spread across her cheeks as she whispered a soft greeting to him.

“Hi ‘pius and Mrs.Malfoy,” she almost murmured. 

Harry was taken aback, to say the least. His boisterous, talkative, loud niece was quiet? He was so surprised he almost forgot about Cedric and failed to notice the deafening silence that had befallen the group; but then again, this was Harry we were talking about.

Everyone stared expectantly at Scorpius, who had shrunken down so much into his coat that a little more and he’d disappear. 

“Hi Rosie,” he stated loudly, then cringed at his own voice, as if he had not meant for it to be so loud.

Now Harry was completely and fully befuddled, and at the look on everyone’s faces, so were they. His Rosie didn’t let anyone except her parents, Harry, Ginny and Cedric call her Rosie. She’d correct anyone else who called her that, politely of course, she was Hermione's daughter after all.

“Hey Astoria, how are you doing?” Ron asked her, breaking the silence. “Where's malfoy? The male one.” Scorpius looked at him expectantly. “The older male one.”

“Oh he just had to stop by flourish and blotts, don't worry Ron your husband will be here soon enough.” she replied with a sly smile.

Ron turned red and looked at Hermione in protest, but she merely smiled, “oh don't worry Ronald, Astoria and I know all about your affair.”

“Oi mate! I thought I was the only secret husband you had without Hermione's knowledge.” Harry teased his best friend, who had now gone from embarrassing red to angry red.

“But I thought Uncle Cedric was your husband?” 

Harry loved his niece very much, but at that moment he felt that Ginny should have made the inn a child-free zone after that one time a party had rampaged the entire inn.

“Rosie, what were you going to ask me?” Hermione quickly asked her daughter, trying to cover up the question. 

“Oh!” the young girl regained her previous enthusiasm. “Could i please spend the night with Uncle Cedric and Uncle Harry? Pleaseeeee. I haven't seen them in so long. Uncle Harry, could I please?”

Harry started to say some half baked excuse but was beaten by the man holding her.

“Some other day, maybe sweetheart?”

Rose looked disappointed, Cedric had never said no to her. Harry could see that his niece was quite hurt.

“Oh,” she said softly, “that's okay i suppose.”

Harry could tell Cedric’s heart broke at her tone. And even more so, when she slid down from his arms.

“Mummy, Mrs. Malfoy, can me and ‘pius go on an a-a-adventure?”

“Scorpius and I.” her mother corrected. “And sure my love, just stay close.”

The young girl’s eyes lit up again and she took the shy boy’s hand and dragged him along her, almost bumping into the latter’s father.

“So how much are we betting that Ron and Draco are going to become in-laws?” Seamus offered.

This seemed to do the trick in reducing any awkwardness that had lingered in the little party. Everyone was laughing, except for Ron of course, who looked ready to murder someone, preferbly Seamus, Harry would help him with that, he decided.

“Where is the Weasel spawn taking my young, still innocent son?” draco malfoy demanded, resting his hand behind his wife’s back.

“Draco, don't be rude.” Astoria reprimanded her husband. “They're just exploring.”

“Fine but if anything happens to him, i will hex Weasley.” 

“Draco, you're overreacting, nothing is going-”

A crash turned the group’s(and almost everyone in the inn) attention, away from their previous conversations. 

Rose and Scorpius were covered in punch, the bowl was overturned between them, the former was smiling sheepishly and the latter looked like he was about to cry.

It didn't take a genius to find out what had happened.

The four parents rushed to their children’s sides, as Seamus walked away, laughing and muttering something about “never having kids”, leaving Harry completely alone with Cedric(Harry wondered if Ginny put Rose up to this).

“I’m sorry.” said Harry just as Cedric started, “I miss you.”

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds, the atmosphere crackling with electricity before both of them lunged at each other.

Harry let out a sigh as his mouth met his lover’s. 

He had missed this.

His fingers found his way to Cedric’s hair, pulling and deepening the kiss, before-

“Now can i stay with Uncle Cedric and Harry?” 

“Rosie!” 

The two broke apart seeing they had an audience now. And while Cedric looked embarrassed, Harry couldn't care less.

“Let's get married.” he blurted out before thinking.

“What,right now?”

“Well not right now now, but yeah.”

“Harry, you're not thinking straight.”

“No, I'm sorry Cedric, saying we needed a break was probably one of my stupidest ideas. I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever doubted that.”

“I love you too, Harry.” Cedric smiled softly.

“Does that mean you will say yes?”

“Yes Harry! Are u really that-” but Harry cut his boyfriend off by kissing him soundly.

“Can ‘pius and I be the flowergirls?”

“Rose!”

[vibraniumwing]

better with you.

a neville longbottom x reader wherein you’ve never really felt like yourself until you met this shy, dorky boy who was fond of herbology

WARNING: none, just pure fluff. a bit of a slow burn too uwu

A/N: used she/her pronouns for this one. this is the first story i’m writing for the hp fandom, please be nice o n o

---

You were currently situated in the library, finishing a book you’ve recently found an interest in. Your fingers playing with the edge of the page as your temple was situated by your palm, the ambiance of the library bringing you solace; hushed conversations, page turning and the sound of someone’s quills on the surface of the parchment. It was all so calming.

“Oh look, it’s snowing!” you heard someone call out, causing you to look to your side to see that it was indeed, snowing. Now resting your chin on your palm, your attention shifted to the small snowflakes accumulating by the window, watching it form a small pile. 

The coldness of the weather reminded you of yourself. You were infamous for being the Ice Princess of Hufflepuff, the ethereal beauty blessed by the gods yet a heart of stone. You were cold, distant and by all means, someone who wasn’t very sociable. So you being sorted in Hufflepuff was a true mystery to everyone.

Some say you should’ve been sorted into Slytherin.

A deep sigh resonated from your chest as you stood up, throwing on the dark coat that was resting on the seat next to you and grabbing your book, hugging it close to your chest. 

Eyes were glued on you as you walked by, the hushed whispers now seemingly louder as you grew conscious due to the unsolicited attention you’re currently receiving. 

You never wanted to be like this; raised in a strict pure-blooded family, molding you to become who you are as of the current. As the exact words of your mother, “You are a L/N. Take pride in that, see no one and talk to no one. You are to show no emotion at all.” It was a rough childhood. You were never allowed to go outside—not even to where your parents are going— and you were never exposed to affection from your mother and father, the closest thing you’ll get to that term was a simple head pat. That alone was another rare thing.

You were well-aware that you were never like this. Not even in the closest; the fear of disappointing them however, stood greater than anything else that mattered to you. So you had to accept that lifestyle, there was no other way.

The rest of the day flew by as normal, soon enough it was already dark out. You found yourself roaming around the halls, the patter of your shoes resounding in the halls. This was your daily ritual after dinner, to calm yourself before retreating to your house’s common room. 

Just about to return, you heard a few laughs coming from the other end of the corner, your mind immediately protesting that you pay no attention and best be on your way— your gut on the other hand, pushed you to look at the commotion. Your legs started moving to their direction. 

As you approached, you discovered that is was  Malfoy and his two lapdogs meddling with what seems to be a Gryffindor student.

“What was his name again?” You mumbled to yourself, hiding against the corner just a few steps away from them. Mind raking to remember where you have heard his name, recalling the sudden memory of him fainting during your second year. Your eyes widen at the recollection and approached them with a feeling that you were not used to.

“Leave him alone, Malfoy.” You spoke up, your heartbeat’s pace starting to pick up as he turns around to look at you. Cocking an eyebrow at your direction, a scoff soon followed. “L/N? The infamous ice princess? Standing up for this little weasel?” his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The usage of the nickname caused you to roll your eyes, shaking your head once as you approached the poor boy, shoving them lightly as you stood in front of him protectively. You look back at them, crossing your arm as you looked up at them, now realizing that they tower over you. “Leave Longbottom alone, Draco.” You warned him once more, your eyes locking with his. 

“Or what? Your little boyfriend’s a coward as it is!” He taunted even more, his signature smirk dawning his lips, eyeing the male behind you up and down. “Pathetic little thing can’t man up.” 

“Oh please Malfoy, You’ll never be half the man that he is. Meddling in and messing up with people to make yourself feel accomplished in the eyes of your father. And you two—” pausing and looking at Crabbe and Goyle, with a disgusted look on your face. “can’t be anymore stupid by following this little leader of yours, I reckon. You three are a bunch of low-lives anyways.” You spat out, venom dripping from your voice; turning around, you offered your hand to the boy and pulled him off the ground.

Looking at them again, you retorted one last time. “If I ever catch you or even just hear about you messing with Longbottom again, I won’t hold myself back.” and pulled the Gryffindor along with you, leaving the three stunned at your words.

The both of you walked in silence, catching the eye of a few students who seemed to notice that your hand was still linked with his. 

You stopped by the hallway near the Great Hall and looked back at your companion. “Are you all good...” You questioned, now realizing that you didn’t even know his first name. “...I-it’s Neville. And y-yes, i’m all good.” he spoke in a hushed tone, eyes looking downwards. 

Only then did you realize you were still holding on to his hand. You immediately let go and a light shade of pink dusted your cheeks, coughing lightly to cover up your flustered state. “That’s good to hear. I’ll see you around.” You courtly say, turning around to walk away, heading over to the Grand Staircase to head off to your Common Room.

Leaving a rather surprised Neville all by himself.

---

“Are you sure that’s L/N you’re talking about, Nev?” Seamus asked from his bed, looking at his friend with a rather surprised expression. “Like the Ice Princess of Hufflepuff L/N?” Dean jumped into the conversation, the topic interesting him as well.

Neville was sure of what he saw, Merlin if he wasn’t so shocked he would’ve ran after her the moment she let him go. “Of course I am! I saw it with my own eyes, she even held my hand!” He answered, looking at the two, exasperated. Never in his life was he so sure of anything else.

“I have to agree with the two on this one. It just doesn’t sound like her, Neville.” Ron soon spoke up, looking at him as he munched on his candies. 

Feeling defeated, he flopped back down on his bed and sighed. “I-I’ll prove it to you guys. I swear it was Y/N.” He retorted, opting not to argue with his dorm-mates anymore.

‘I swear I’ll show them that Y/N is more than what she shows.’

---

All of the students were down Hogsmeade, students frolicking around the village to drink some Butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks or just be out and about from the castle.

You rarely go with them, not wanting to socialize as it drains you more than anything else. This day was an exception though, as you were there to refill on parchment and ink since you’ve been running low on supply.

Your day flowed as normal as any other— with the exception that you had felt more people stare at you; not that you weren’t used to it or anything, something just felt off with the way they stare. As if the gossip had something else in it rather than the usual thing of “why is she in Hufflepuff.”

Walking along the snowy pavement of the place was rather peaceful for you, eyes wandering about on your schoolmates who were blabbering about their day and sharing their excitement to be away from the school. You’ve always longed for an interaction like that with your peers, but you tend to shy away and rather maintain the reputation they’ve crowned upon you.

Almost at the shop, a hand was placed on your shoulder making you jump slightly, causing you to slip against the icy, slippery surface. You shut your eyes as you prepared for the impact until you felt a warm breath fan out against your skin, a subtle scent of mint tickling your nose.

You open your eyes to meet a pair of beautiful brown eyes, your breath hitching at the sight. Your eye contact remained with the person until a sudden cough made it’s way out of you, only realizing that you’ve been holding your breath.

The both of you straightened up, now taking a better look at the person who saved your bottom from the rather cold pathway; cheeks suddenly flushed once recognizing who it was. “Neville?”

He was quiet, his whole face as the same color of his house, eyes still locked with yours. 

Bringing up a hand, you waved it against his face gently to pull him out of his trance, to which he did. “O-oh. H-hello again, Y/N.” the boy greeted, showing you a rather shy smile. 

You nodded at him once, unsure of how to react now that he was back to speaking. “I s-saw you walk alone around here... I was wondering if-” His voice suddenly getting really soft by the end of his sentence causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. “You have to speak louder, Longbottom. I’m not blessed with super hearing.” You told him, feeling the corner of your lips twinge up at the sight of him. 

Neville cursed under his breath at his shyness, mentally cursing at how pathetic it was that he couldn’t speak in front of you. 

Something stirred inside you again though, the same protective feeling washing over at the sight of him contemplating. “You can tell me. If it’s Malfoy bothering you again, tell me where he is. I’ve got a few hexes ready for him and his ugly warts of sidekicks.” You started off, crossing your arms.

The latter immediately shook his head (as much as he would love to see Draco get a piece of his own medicine, he doesn’t want you in harms way.) 

“I-I w-was wondering if y-you’d like some company while you’re here.” He finally spat out, causing you to look at him in surprise. No one ever asked to go with you, so this was a definite first for you. Neville’s lips curved to a slight frown at the prolonged silence, thinking that your silence was rejection.

“A-alright, I’ll t-take that as a no. I-I’ll see you around, Y/N...” he mumbled, tone dripping of dejection. That’s when you snapped out of your trance, holding onto his wrist. “H-hey, I’d actually love to be in your company.” You told him, squeezing it gently.

He turned to look at you with a surprised look, eyes wide with his jaw slacked a bit that you actually accepted his offer. To which you answered with a very soft laugh, lips curved into a smile at how adorable he was. “You better close your mouth, love. You’ll be eating the snow like that.” You remarked, bringing your other hand up to close his jaw.

His eyes were trained on you, just now noticing the tinge of pink that dawned on your cheeks and how red your nose was from the cold, to which he found adorable. Flashing you a toothy grin, he straightened himself up and wiggled free from your grasp, his larger hands now engulfing your own. 

Your quietly watched him, unable to find any remarks now he has seemingly stepped out of his shell. Stunned at how he took the initiative to hold your hand in the process. “Do you fancy some butterbeer perhaps? After you pick up what you need?” He asked, looking at you with a smile, his cheeks flushed immensely.

“S-sounds good to me, Nev.”

---

After that moment in Hogsmeade, you’ve been hanging out more with Neville, You’ve shown more emotion in the short span you’ve met him than your stay in Hogwarts, making everyone re-think of that title of yours.

You felt like yourself, you felt free with him around. It was the best feeling you’ve ever had.

It was a pleasant surprise for everyone when you suddenly appeared in the Great Hall with your hair free and not in the usual bun they’ve grown accustomed to.

While walking to your house’s table, you made eye contact with Neville, flashing him a bright smile, leaving the boy shy and his friends hitting him and calling him out on what he actually did with you.

“Blimey Neville, she seems better with you than how she ever did before.” Seamus called out, giving his friend a noogie in the process. 

You rolled our eyes at the remark, a smile remaining on your lips as you reach your table.

Everything was going well when one of the people in your house asked, “Hey Y/N isn’t that your owl?” causing you to look up that your owl, indeed was flying towards you with a certain black envelope you know too well. The bird landed in front of you, letting go of the parchment and stares up at you.

You forced a smile, despite your heart dropping at the knowledge of what’s inside the letter; to which a certain boy noticed from afar. “Hello there, Peanut. Got a letter for me?” the barred owl blinked at you, as if he knew what was to come. 

With a shaky hand, you opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. Your mother’s familiar handwriting greeting your vision as you read the letter. 

Tears brimmed your eyes as you scrunched the letter up in your hands. You raced out of the hall, causing a few people to look your way as you bumped into people, vision blurred. 

Neville saw all of it happen, how your expression went from happy to the most heartbreaking one he’s seen on anyone. He didn’t waste anymore time and chased after you, knowing exactly where to find you.

You were slumped by the furthest nook of the library as you were silently sobbing, thanking whatever higher power there is that there isn’t anyone around to see you at such a miserable state. However, you did hear the chair beside you move, causing you to look at the cause of the noise to see Neville.

“Now isn’t a good time to suggest Herbology books, Nev.” You humored, wiping your tears as you sent a tight-lipped smile his way. His heart was torn into pieces at the sight of you so shattered, he knew about your situation with your family and how you were forced to be someone you weren’t. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching for your own and ran his thumb across your knuckles; the boy knew how much you love when he does that. Visibly, you relaxed and leaned into him. You rested your head on his shoulder and sobbed quietly, tears staining his shirt. 

His arm protectively curled around your frame, cradling you as you just sobbed, quietly listening to the whispers of how you hated the fact that you were still so fearful of your parents— how you were still controlled by them. 

You pulled away from his embrace, your eyes puffy from the crying. “N-Nev, I’m so-” 

“Before you even finish that sentence, don’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything, love.” He crooned, bringing his hand to wipe your tears away. Loving the way how you leaned into his touch.

“It’s alright to be afraid, you know? You’re still a human, darling. Sometimes, people get tired of keeping up with something they know they’re not and it’s okay to be like that.” Neville whispered, tone laced with tenderness as he spoke. Your eyes were locked with his brown ones and all you saw was sincerity in every word he spoke.

“You can still be yourself, love. Be someone that you love, not someone to please other people. There’s a reason why you’re in Hufflepuff and not in any other house. You know that deep down inside of you and I’ve seen that first hand.” He continued, smiling fondly at the memories you;ve managed to create with him. How you slowly stepped out of your cold figure and show who you really are.

“You tend to put people before yourself like how you stood up for me that night with Malfoy, like how you are with your parents. That’s what I love about you.” He confessed, making you look at him with surprised eyes. 

It was the first time you’ve ever heard someone say that— it felt good. Warmth spread through your body as you stared at him and you saw it. The adoration he has for you and right there, you know that wasn’t lying.

“I-I’m sorry, that d-didn’t mean to sl-” “I love you too.” You cut him off, now finding the words you’ve wanted to tell him for the longest time. “I hope you don’t change the way how you lo- wait what?” He was continuing to ramble on until what you said had processed in him. “Y-You do?”

“Yes, I do.” You nodded once, now resting your forehead with his as you laughed softly. “Thank you, Neville. For staying with me and believing that I’m more than what others see.” You spoke gently, feeling his warm breath against your lips, the familiar scent of mint wafting through your nose.

“You’ve done the same for me, love.” He responsed, now holding your face with his hands gently, afraid to hurt you even the slightest.

You saw how his eyes flicker for just a split second to your lips, to which you took the change to pull his tie to press a gentle kiss on his lips. His eyes were wide, feeling your plush ones against his; until he too melted, and gave in.

The both of you pulled away, breathless. You broke out into a quiet laugh, hugging him in the process, to which he gladly reciprocated.

“Everything’s better with you, Nev.” You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as you smiled. He mirrored your smile, pulling away to hold your hand and presses a peck to your forehead.

“I intend to keep it that way forever.”

And that’s when you knew that everything would be okay, as long as he’s there with you.

[theweasleysredhair]

Persistence Is Key [D.M.]

Character: Draco Malfoy

Word Count: 1188

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Draco is used to getting what he wants and what he wants is Y/n L/n.

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: I hope the requester enjoys! (Requests are still open, and feedback is appreciated!!)

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Stop trying Malfoy, I’m just not interested,” you said for the third time that day (and possibly the fiftieth+ time in the last couple of weeks), picking up your books and tucking them under your arm.

You left the blonde boy in the classroom, joining your friend Hermione in the hallway. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to him, just hex him away and have done with it,” she grinned at you as you shook your head with a smile, “It’s mildly irritating but nothing I can’t handle... if he passes the bar of annoyance I’m sure I’ll find something to keep him at bay.”

“I’m sure you will,” Hermione mused cryptically.

***

“L/n!” You heard your name being called out as you passed through the courtyard. Turning your head, you saw Draco running over. You hid your smile and shook your head fondly, “What’s up, Malfoy?”

“Not much, just wondering if you would accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend?” He asked, a smirk inching onto his face.

“How many times do I have to say no Malfoy? I’m afraid it’s just not for me,” you shrugged.

“You’ll change your mind, L/n. I’m sure of it.”

You shook your head with a laugh, “I admire your tenacity, but I highly doubt it.”

***

You were sat beside Hermione in transfiguration, your textbook sat to one side as Professor McGonagall gave out rats ready to transfigure into goblets. It was one of the more basic spells but nevertheless required full concentration and steady wandwork.

You had successfully turned your rat - which kept trying to escape - completely into a goblet (unlike Neville who had a goblet with a tail, or Seamus who somehow managed to nearly set his rat on fire), when the entire back of the class erupted in laughter. Confused, you turned around to see Draco, red in the face, his arms crossed and scowling. You glanced up to where Zabini was pointing and realised that Draco had somehow gotten his rat stuck to the ceiling.

You stifled a giggle as you looked back at the clearly-embarrassed blonde boy, when suddenly your goblet lifted off the desk in front of you began flying around the room, nearly hitting Pansy Parkinson on her head.

“Silence!” McGonagall called out harshly, pulling out her wand and immediately halting the goblet, before rescuing Draco’s rat. The entire class stopped what they were doing and looked down.

“I have said multiple times that my classroom is no place to be messing around. Transfiguration is extremely difficult work and I do not take kindly to students who put animals and their classmates in danger. Mr Malfoy, Miss L/n, you may join me here in detention this evening.”

“But Professor-“ you began to object, as you were not the one to charm your goblet. “No buts, Miss L/n.”

You slumped in your seat and rested your chin in your hand with a sigh. Great, spending your time in detention instead of doing Snape’s essay as you had planned.

As you left the classroom with Hermione in tow, you groaned, “I can’t believe I’ve got detention! And with Malfoy!”

“Don’t act so upset, we all know you fancy him really,” Hermione teased, moving her books to hold them more comfortably.

“I don’t fancy him! I think I’d know if I did... I can’t like him. He’s said some awful things, especially to you! I won’t allow it,” you shook your head, pulling your cloak further around yourself.

“There’s the chance to make him a better person you know. You might be able to encourage him not to go around calling us muggleborns... you could even stop him from harassing Harry!” Hermione pointed out, “If he’s to listen to anyone, it would be you. He’s... infatuated with you!”

“He just wants me because I always say no,” you replied, “Eventually he’ll lose interest.”

“I think he just likes you. If it was because you always say no, he’d be after other girls too and he’s not. It’s always you he asks, he waits for you after class, he’s always staring at you-“

“He’s always what? Staring?! What do you mean, staring? At me? Why?!” You exclaimed, tucking lose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Because he fancies you Y/n,” Hermione says in a ‘duh’ tone.

You shook your head strongly, “Can’t be true... can’t be.”

“We’ll see if you’re saying that after detention with him tonight.”

***

“I still don’t understand how I got roped into this detention,” you muttered once McGonagall had left the room. You were stood beside Draco, cleaning out your teacher’s cupboard shelves.

“Well you endangered the class with your flying goblet,” Draco replied as he grinned at over at you.

“That was you!” You spluttered indignantly, “You charmed my goblet!” “Actually, that was Goyle. And, well, you were laughing at me,” he crossed his arms over his chest in mock anger. “Everyone was laughing at you! You made your rat stick to the ceiling!” You couldn’t help but laugh again as you thought back to the sight of the poor rat clinging to the ceiling and trying to run away but not being able to.

“That’s because I was distracted! I can’t concentrate when you’re around because you’re too beautiful to not look at. I’d apologise but I’m not sorry.”

You rolled your eyes, “And we’re back to the flirting.” “I have to flirt with you, it’s the only times you ever speak to me. Besides, I wouldn’t have to bother asking so much if you just said yes once. Just one date and if it doesn’t go well then I’d back off!” Draco threw his arms in the air dramatically to support his argument, “You know deep down you like me, you’re just afraid of what everyone else will think. I’m not as bad as they make out... I just have to act a certain way in front of the rest of Slytherin.”

“I don’t like you when you’re showing off, the Draco who bullies other students.” “But you do like me?” You sighed and opened your mouth to speak, before closing it again.

Then suddenly Draco pressed his lips to yours, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you against him. You automatically reached up to push him away from you, but before you could, something stopped you - the spark you felt, perhaps - and you even began to kiss back.

“Oh," you gasped, surprised, as he pulled away, your hands pressed flat against his chest but no longer pushing him away. Draco’s heavy breaths hit your face, fanning against your lips. "Kiss me again," you demanded. "With pleasure," Draco muttered, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you flush against him.

Your hands trailed up around the back of his neck, softly pulling at the blonde tufts and eliciting a groan from Draco as he titled his head to deepen the kiss.

“McGongall might come back,” you breathed between kisses, “She’ll catch us.” Draco pressed open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck, enjoying your small inhales and soft moans.

“Worth it, darling.”

[lxngbottom]

Hiii!! First off love your writing!!! Second I was hoping we could get a part two to cold night? Sweet luv ya!!

A Cold Night. | N.L. (Part 2)

in which neville tries to make up for what happen at the yule ball.

warnings: swearing, just a tad bit of angst!

i honestly didn’t expect for anyone to actually want a pt 2 to this but once again, you ask i deliver!

PART 1 HERE!

—

it had been a whole week since the night of the yule ball. one whole week of the silent treatment from y/n, and neville felt like he was losing it.

he couldn’t even put into words the guilt that remained sitting in his gut. especially when he would look at her from his seat in one of their shared classes, and she would shoot daggers right into his soul. it was truly killing him. and, he wished he could fix it.

“y/n, will you please get in a better mood? i’m trying to focus, and i can practically feel the anger leaking off of you!” hermione exclaimed, tending to the plant that sat in front of them. y/n simply rolled her eyes at her friend,

“sorry that my emotions are distracting you from cutting... whatever this is!” y/n aggravatingly stated, flicking the mystery plant in front of them, “what in merlin’s beard are we even supposed to be doing anyway?”

hermione huffed and narrowed her eyes at her friend, “were you seriously not listening to sprout? we’re supposed to be carefully trimming the leaves off of this—well... i forgot what it’s called.”

y/n didn’t respond to her, just simply looked over at neville who was going around, helping others around the greenhouse with their assignment. she clenched her jaw, still remembering the yule ball mishap. she didn’t know why, but she still felt so spiteful over it.

why couldn’t neville ask her to the yule ball? was it not obvious enough that she fancied him? or was he truly just that oblivious?

why couldn’t it have been her that night?

“merlin, i have absolutely no idea what i’m doing...” hermione admitted, slamming the trimmers down on the table. y/n chuckled from hermione’s failed attempt at having an attitude, and shook her head.

just as y/n was feeling some sort of relief from her angst, the root of the problem came strolling along to their table. he was visibly nervous as he glanced at y/n for a second, and then at hermione.

“h-hey guys... do you need some help?” he asked, his voice soft.

“actually, yes! we would—“

“piss off, longbottom.” y/n cut hermione off, and hermione’s jaw dropped. the girl scoffed, and neville simply nodded his head in defeat, and walked away.

hermione hit y/n’s arm, and y/n let out a yelp, “ow! what was that for?”

“we needed his help! why would you do that?”

y/n rolled her eyes, “we don’t need his help! we can figure it out on our own!”

y/n picked up the trimmers, and started observing the plant harshly, studying the leaves and where they were growing from,

“if you make us fail this assignment... i’ll never speak to you again, y/n.”

—

turns out, hermione and y/n did end up failing that assignment. and, if things couldn’t get worse, hermione cursed y/n’s name for making her average drop, which was always quite annoying considering y/n knew that hermione would never fall from her class rank, as she was at the top.

fortunately for the two girls, professor sprout had blessed them with a makeup assignment. it was a simple essay that had to be written, about the properties of any plant of their choice. but, it needed to be four to five pages.... at least.

y/n sat in the library, multiple herbology books scattered in front of her. she bit down on her thumb, staring at the blank parchment. she had no idea what plant would be the easiest to write about, and quite honestly, even if she did, she didn’t know how to describe it. neville had always assisted her in times like this, especially when it came to herbology, but that wasn’t an option.

she huffed, and glanced out the window. she saw students in small groups, talking and laughing. she envied them, as she wished she could not only be free from this dreadful essay, but as well, that she could actually speak with her friends.

“y/n?”

y/n whipped her head around, and spotted a nervous ginny weasley standing a little ways away from her designated table. she rolled her eyes, looking away from the ginger. she knew it was probably unfair to be angry at ginny, but she couldn’t help the spitefulness that she had pent up.

“i know you’re angry at me, but... can we talk?”

y/n bit down on her lip in aggravation, and turned her head once more, “what is there to talk about, weasley? i think i’ve made it pretty clear to you and longbottom both that i want the two of you to piss off.”

truthfully, ginny and y/n had never been super close, as ginny was in a year below all of y/n’s friends (herself included). but ginny would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt her feelings to know that y/n had a grudge held against her.

“i know. but, i need to tell you something. so please... you don’t have to talk, just listen.”

y/n thought about it for a moment, knowing that ginny wouldn’t stop pestering her if she said no, so she motioned for ginny to sit down in front of her. the girl did so slowly, setting her bag down on the table quietly.

“you deserve to know what happened, y/n. that night—“

“i fucking know what happened, weasley. trust me.”

ginny sighed, “no. before the ball. the truth about neville and me, and why he even asked me in the first place.”

that’s when y/n’s thoughts began to take ahold of her.

did ginny and neville kiss? were they official now? what was ginny about to say that could possibly shatter y/n’s heart more than it already had been?

“neville and me... we’re just friends, y/n. strictly friends!” ginny informed her, her hands hitting the table lightly. “and... the only reason he even asked me is because i didn’t have a date, and neither did he.”

y/n scoffed, “well, i didn’t have a date either. you two weren’t the ones that ended up going alone and sitting by themselves all night!”

y/n hadn’t realized it, but thinking back to that night had caused tears to form in her eyes. she could only remember the jealousy, and the sadness from seeing them two on the dance floor together, seemingly having the time of their lives.

“yeah... because neville wanted to ask you.”

the statement sparked interest in y/n’s chest, and she narrowed her eyes at ginny,

“w-what?”

ginny sighed once more, and glanced around for a moment, “y/n... the only reason why neville asked me is because he wanted to ask you. but, you know how he is... he was afraid that you had already found someone. and, i’m honestly surprised that you didn’t. you know, you being pretty and all...”

y/n’s lips parted as she tried to process the information.

neville wanted to go with her?

“you—you’re lying...”

ginny shook her head, “i’m not! i would never lie about something like this. he told me himself. before, during, and even after the ball. you don’t even know how guilty he felt when you ran off crying.”

the thoughts running through y/n’s head were going at a pace that not even she herself could keep up with. she glanced down at her books, and then back up at ginny, and began to hurriedly collect her belongings.

“where are you going?” ginny asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“i-i have to go find him! i have to apologize for being such a bitch to him this last week! mind putting these books up for me?” y/n asked, shoving her stuff into her bag.

“uh, yeah... definitely! go find him!”

y/n flashed a small smile at ginny, taking her by surprise. she began to walk off, but suddenly stopped and turned around as ginny began to close her abandoned books,

“ginny,” y/n called out, and ginny looked at her, “i’m sorry.”

ginny smiled at her, “it’s alright, y/n. just go and fix it.”

y/n nodded once more, and stormed off before ginny could say anything else.

she began to search, and search hard. she considered every place that neville could be, as he was one to hide away from the world when things felt too stressful.

y/n spotted seamus and dean in the hall, and ran up to them,

“oh! hey—“

“do you guys know where longbottom is?”

the two boys looked at each other, questioning looks etched upon their faces,

“uh, no. we haven’t seen him since earlier today. why?” dean told her,

“um... no reason. thanks for letting me know. i’ll see you guys later!”

and with that, she stormed off down the hallway. seamus and dean looked at each other once more,

“girls...” seamus huffed, and shook his head, dean agreeing with a chuckle.

y/n made her way to the greenhouse, more than sure that neville would be there. but, when she peaked in, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. it truly began to worry her, and she had to take a few deep breaths before she continued her search for the gryffindor boy that she adored so much.

as she stood against the wall for a moment, she realized one more place where he could’ve been.

she was running all over the place, trying to get to the destination as fast as she could. she pushed passed people, muttering small apologies to them as they scoffed from her “lack of manners”.

finally, she arrived. and, when she began to slow down, she spotted the boy. she took a breath of relief before continuing to walk.

he stood in the lake, pants rolled up to his knees, staring at the plant in his hand. just like he always did. and usually, y/n would be sitting under the tree that sat right next to the lake, listening to his small lessons about the qualities of the new found plants.

neville heard footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see a panting y/n, gasping for air.

“y/n? are you alright?”

she didn’t respond, only threw her bag down and put her hands on her knee caps in an attempt to catch her breath from all of the running she had just done.

“fine... just... winded...” she responded in between heavy breaths, feeling as if she could puke.

neville stepped out of the lake, slowly approaching the girl, plant and dirt still in hand. “well... why are you so winded?”

y/n finally fully stood up, and wiped the little sweat that had formed on her forehead. she glanced up and down, observing how he looked. he always looked so adorable at times like this. it made her realize how much she had actually missed him.

“to—to find you. i couldn’t find you anywhere, so... well—never mind that. it doesn’t matter.” she quickly shook off her verbal thoughts, and lightly smiled at him. “i talked to ginny...”

his eyes widened a little, and he coughed awkwardly as he set the small water plant down on the ground, “you did?”

she nodded, “yeah... is it true?”

he looked at her, his cheeks beginning to flush. he knew exactly what she meant.

“yeah... it—it is true. all of it. i’m sorry i didn’t—“

that’s when y/n did something she had dreamed about doing ever since they were 12 years old. she walked up to him, grabbed him by the collar, and forced their lips together in a gentle kiss.

neville was taken back for a moment, but slowly leaned into her. his hand came up to her cheek, and he brought her closer, as he had waited for this very same moment since the first time they had met.

the two pulled away, breathless, lips swollen and pink. neville removed his hand slowly, only to find that he had smudged dirt onto her face.

“um... you got some dirt—“

she giggled, and wiped it off with her sleeve. he smiled at her, taking the moment in.

she then fixed his collar, a bright smile on her face,

“we can save the “i missed you’s” for later. i have a herbology essay to write, and i have no idea how i’m going to get it done.”

[adenei]

Hogwarts Sex Ed.

There’s an extreme lack of Sex Ed at Hogwarts fics out there so, as a result of yesterdays HP Collab Chat, here’s a fun little one shot of Dumbledore teaming up with Madam Pomfrey to deliver ‘the talk’ to our favorite Gryffindors!

**********************

The Gryffindor students were entering the Transfiguration classroom on the second Saturday of term. 

“What do you think this is about?” Seamus could be heard asking.

“Dunno, but I hope it doesn’t last all day. The weather’s brilliant, and I want to go outside,” Parvati pouted.

“Hermione, don’t wake me up if they’re going to teach us about how to study for our NEWTs, I don’t think I could take another class like that,” Ron groaned.

“Oh, come on, Ron it wasn’t that bad,” Hermione admonished. She sat down next to Ron in one of the two-person desks in the middle row. Neville and Harry sat across from them. It looked like they were paired with the Hufflepuffs for today’s special lesson.

Madam Pomfrey was at the front of the room, speaking with Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. She seemed to hand them a stack of parchment and quills. Professor McGonagall came around and handed the parchment and quills out to each of the Gryffindors before using her wand to pass out the ink.

Some of the students picked up the quills and McGonagall said, “There is no reason for you to write your name on the parchment. Nothing is being turned in.”

“Good morning, students,” Madam Pomfrey began, taking the attention from McGonagall. “Please forgive us for not telling you what this class is about. We like to keep it a surprise for you. Today we’ll be speaking to you about-”

“Ah, good, I’m not late!” Professor Dumbledore had strode into the classroom.

“Professor Dumbledore, I assure you we can handle this,” Professor McGonagall intervened.

“I’ve no doubt you can, Minerva, but as Headmaster I do feel it is my duty to make sure our older students are informed so that they’re safety remains intact.” Dumbledore turned to the sixth years. “It is no doubt that you are all getting older, and may be experiencing certain...feelings that are beginning to develop. I will not, as they say, beat around the bush any longer. Today we will be talking to you about safe sex.”

A pin drop could have been heard in the classroom, as it was deathly quiet. Some students had sunk down into their seats while others stared wide-eyed, not quite believing what they’d just heard. Hermione felt her face grow hot, and she was suddenly hyper aware of how close Ron was to her. Why hadn’t she chosen to sit next to Harry, or even Neville this once!

“Oh, come now, come now. Sex is a completely normal act in life, and you’d be barmy to believe that we teachers are unaware of what likely goes on in empty classrooms and broom closets. This is why we are thankful for our Prefects and their patrols. We figure you’d much rather be caught by your peers than us. But I digress.”

Dumbledore looked around the room, the familiar twinkle in his eye. “You should, of course, be aware of the implications that may arise should you choose to engage in such activities. First and foremost, consent is of utmost importance. Do not do anything your partner is not comfortable with. If it is not a clear yes, it is a no. Am I understood?” This was the most sincere part of Dumbledore’s lesson, and he wanted to make sure it was addressed first.

“I would like you to write down the following sentence on your parchment: ‘I promise that I will respect my partner if I choose to engage in sexual actions.’ All of the students obeyed, and looked up as they watched their ink disappear before their eyes. 

“Not to worry, students,” Professor Sprout explained, “ The ink disappears and reappears on our parchment up here. That way, if you have any questions, you can write them down anonymously and we can answer them to save you some embarrassment.” She chuckled.

“Wonderful! Now that we have the consent understanding out of the way...love can be a beautiful thing, and should not be mistaken with lust, which in your hormonal teenage bodies, can run amok. This is all completely natural of course, so don’t be afraid of it. Make sure you trust the person you’re fooling around with, and use protection.

“I trust that your families have gone over the contraceptive spells, but for the sake of our Muggleborn students, Madam Pomfrey will demonstrate the appropriate male and female charms.”

He gestured to Madam Pomfrey who stepped forward. She first went over the male charm, and required all the boys to practice. Hermione did her best to remain looking forward so that she wasn’t clearly watching Ron practice the spell. She could tell how red and blotchy his face was from embarrassment out of the corner of her eye. Madam Pomfrey repeated the same process for the girls, and this time it was Ron’s turn to try and look away. 

“You’ll do well to remember that it is most effective when both charms are cast, but it still is not foolproof. Pregnancy is a very real thing, and can happen to anyone engaging in sexual intercourse, even if both charms are cast. Your mind must be in the right spot to successfully cast the charm, or you risk conception, whether intentional or not. The charms also only have a thirty minute limit, so please do not fall under the impression that you can cast the charm hours in advance on the off chance you may engage in such activities.”

“Not that we condone any of these activities in the slightest,” Professor McGonagall expressed sternly.

“You’ll also do well to know that you can transmit disease through sexual acts if you are not careful. Hopefully, this should not be an issue for you here, but nonetheless, we must discuss it. The most common STD, if you will, is called Hag’s Nose, where painful bumps appear on a specific part of the male anatomy. I will not speak on the female equivalent, but do know there is one.”

Ron, along with the rest of the boys, looked absolutely mortified. “Not to worry, it is not as common now as it was hundreds of years ago. Madam Pomfrey will be testing each of you to ensure you do not carry any disease at the end of today’s lesson. There are healing potions you can take should you come down with the ailment.

“My last bit of information to share with you is to be aware that there are always eyes watching. Whether it be the teachers, prefects, or even the portraits, you are never as stealth as you may think you are.”

“While we do not condone these activities, we cannot prevent you from making your own decisions. But do know that you will be punished accordingly if you ever get caught,” Professor McGonagall reminded them again.

Dumbledore seemed satisfied as he looked to Madam Pomfrey. She waved her wand, casting a silent spell that no doubt was determining the presence of possible STDs. She nodded curtly as she observed the results. “At this point, we ask that you write down any questions that you have, and Madam Pomfrey will answer them for everyone. There is no question too silly. Chances are if you’re thinking it, someone else probably is, too.”

Everyone sat there quietly at first, but then a few people could be seen writing. For once, Hermione did not have any questions. She noticed Ron didn’t write anything down either.

“Ah the first question!” Professor McGonagall said. “How often do students at Hogwarts become pregnant?”

“At least once every five years,” Madam Pomfrey stated simply.

Professor Sprout stated the next question. “If we take the monthly potion, do we still need to use the spell?”

“It is recommended, yes.”

“How often are couples caught?” McGonagall was trying hard not to look disgusted at the question, which got a few sniggers out of the students.

Dumbledore answered this one. “Judging on the house points that are taken in the evenings, several times a week. I should say that Madam Pince strictly prohibits any fooling around in the library, as well. Those who are caught tend to lose more house points than those elsewhere.”

Hermione felt her face flush hot as the quill slipped out of her hand. So much for some of those dreams she’d had over the summer. Not that she was any closer with Ron that would even allow them to become a reality. 

Madam Pomfrey snapped her out of her reverie. “Are there any other questions?” She waited a beat, but no new questions came in. “Thank you. You are dismissed, but please know you can come to me should you have any additional questions.”

“Enjoy the beautiful day outside,” Professor Dumbledore said as he watched the students get up and scamper off faster than you could say ‘expelliarmus.’ Once they had all exited, he looked at the other teachers. “Ah, it never gets old,” Dumbledore said as he chuckled.

“You are incorrigible, you do know that, Albus?” Professor McGonagall said.

“Oh yes, but it does them good to know the implications of their actions.”

“Not that it will stop it,” Professor Sprout commented.

“Ah, but it will help them think twice about their actions, and that’s all we can ask for. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of before our second session in an hour.”

[pregnant-piggy]

Two trees (1/3)

Harry Potter x reader, modern high school AU

This is part of All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

Words: 3k

A/N: this fic is mostly based on my experiences with school theatre. I have joined twice in my school’s plays a few years back and i can only wish it was like this

Every year the school would do a Christmas production on the day before the Christmas break. And every year your friends managed to convince you to join them in it. But they all had something valuable to add, you had nothing. Lavender had great acting skills and she would undoubtedly get the leading part, like she had last year. Parvati was part of the technics team, so she didn’t even had to sign up for anything. And your best friend Dean had helped write the script, so he was settled too. You on the other hand had nothing. No acting skills, not a writer’s hand and no sense of technicality.

So when the day came that the roles were announced, you were slightly anxiously sitting in the school’s theatre, while your friends were chatting excitedly around you. The row in front of you was taken by a group of giggling girls and in the row before that were some other guys from your year seated.

‘Harry and Ron lost a bet,’ Dean explained when he noticed you were surprised to find those boys there. ‘They had made a bet with Neville and Seamus and lost. So they had to audition for the play.’

You chuckled and averted your gaze from the boys. Soon afterwards Mrs Stanley came to the stage and a silence fell over all who were in the theatre. Mrs Stanley was, despite the fact that you didn’t have classes from her, one of your favourite teachers. She was always kind to everyone and she hadn’t laughed at you when you had auditioned for the play.

She started to name the characters in the play, called The more the merrier, starting with the leading parts.

‘The role for Amy goes to Lavender Brown!’ Mrs Stanley said and Lavender beamed with happiness. ‘And the part of her opponent, Jacob, goes to Ron Weasley!’

Two rows in front of you three of the four boys started to laugh. The back of Ron’s neck turned as red as his hair and Neville almost fell from his chair laughing so hard.

Next to you Lavender and Parvati started to protest. Lavender had gotten up and was staring angrily down at the four boys. Parvati pulled her back down, while giving the boys a nasty glare. She took Lavender in an embrace and shot you a questioning glare over her shoulder. You shrugged back and turned to Dean.

‘Ron?’

‘Yeah, he was actually really good,’ said Dean, who had been at the auditions. ‘He surprised everyone.’

You looked at Ron and his friends, who were still laughing at him. Your gaze shifted to the mop of black hair that was sitting next to him. You had gotten to know Harry better since he was seated next to you in your history class, because he had been talking too much with Seamus. Despite what his lazy attitude made you believe, he was actually a really nice guy. And smart. He had surprised you with the comments he had made during class.

The rest of the parts were divided too and with every name that was called and that wasn’t yours, you felt both relieved and disappointed. Not disappointed because you had expected a part in the play, but because you wished to have this experience with your friends. You had missed it all those years and they always talked about how much fun it was to be part of ‘the crew’, as they called it.

‘And the last parts, go to y/f/n and Harry Potter!’

You started from your daze and stared at Mrs Stanley. Did she just say your name? You turned to Dean, who was smiling at you. ‘Welcome to the crew!’

‘I am part of the crew?’ you whisper-yelled. ‘I am in the play?’ Dean laughed and nodded as he put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a hug.

The group of boys two rows below you were laughing again, but this time only half of them were. Neville actually fell from his seat this time and Seamus was pointing at Harry while the tears streamed down his face.

‘The rehearsals are every Thursday at four and I expect you all to be there! Please take the sheet with roles with you when you leave the place!’ Mrs Stanley said and she placed a stack of papers on the stage before she left.

Together with your friends you went down and got a piece of paper. On the top of the list stood indeed Lavender and Ron as the main roles. You heard Lavender sigh behind you, while you searched for your own name. Totally on the bottom you found it after the role you were playing.

‘A tree? I’m a tree?’

You turned around to Dean, who was grinning at you. ‘It was the only way to get you in.’

‘A tree?’ you repeated and looked back at the sheet. ‘Do I even have lines?’

‘You do, you do,’ Dean reassured you. ‘You have a conversation with the other tree.’

‘Of course, because one tree’s not enough! Who is my worthy opponent then?’

‘Me,’ a voice behind you said.

You turned around and were faced with Harry. He had an easy smirk on his mouth as he pulled his hand through his hair. You looked at the sheet again. On the paper stood indeed, next to your name, Harry Potter.

‘Oh, great,’ you mumbled before you smiled at Harry. ‘Well, at least it’s nice to know there is someone just as bad as me.’

=-=-=-=

Apart from being a tree, you were excited for the play and the next Thursday rolled around quickly. You were waiting with Lavender and Parvati in the seats closest to the stage, talking about all and nothing while you waited for the rehearsal to start. Around you were mostly younger students, not a real big surprise as you kept in mind that you were in your final to last year. Two girls were sitting close to you and you listened with half an ear to their conversation. The girl closest to you, with two pigtails, was explaining to the other girl how her family had big expectations for her own future as an actress.

Your eavesdropping was cut short when Harry and Ron, both with long faces, sat down between you and the girls. You now completely stopped listening to Lavender and Parvati as they talked about Lavender’s new math tutor and turned to the two boys next to you.

‘Look who it is, Mr Prince Charming and my fellow tree companion,’ you said. ‘Looking forward to it?’

‘Mr Prince Charming?’ Ron asked confused.

‘Oh, that’s right,’ you said. ‘You don’t know what the play is about.’

Dean had told you as soon as you had gotten a part in the production. It was about a girl, Amy played by Lavender, who shows Prince Jacob, who loathes the holidays, how much happiness Christmas brings to the people. They cross the whole kingdom that belongs to Jacob’s father, King Samuel, together until Jacob is convinced that Christmas is indeed a happy time. In the end he invites everyone that he has come across over for a big Christmas dinner in his castle.

And no one less than Ron Weasley was to play Jacob; hence the Prince Charming.

‘You’ll see,’ you said and at the same time Mrs Stanley walked on the stage, silencing everyone in the theatre.

‘Good afternoon! I am so excited to see so many familiar and new faces! I have no doubt that this year we’ll perform an even better play than last year.’

Mrs Stanley divided the whole group in little ones of four people who had sort of the same roles. You were in a group with the two girls you had listened to earlier and Harry. The girl with the pigtails, who was supposed to be a great actress later, appeared to play the part of a lumberjack and her friend was her sheepdog. You quickly learned that their names were Jennifer and Kayla.

The groups were all given a scene not from the play and it was the exercise to change and play it so that it became an interesting scene. The text would be unaltered, but all the rest was up for change.

Jennifer suggested to make it a melodramatic piece, acting it as if it was the last thing you’d do. However, you and Harry decided against that already foreseeing the embarrassment that would cause the two of you.

‘What if we completely change the context?’ you proposed. ‘Say we make it night instead of day.’

‘And we could be in the woods instead the-’ Harry read the description at the top of the paper, ‘-kitchen.’

Soon your group was working on a way to make clear that it was dark and night and time flew by. After an hour it was time for all the groups to present their pieces. Lavender’s group was first. She was with Ron, since they had the biggest roles, and three other people. You knew how much Lavender despised Ron right now, but there was no trace of it in her acting. And it surprised you how well Ron could act. It was as if someone else was standing on the stage and not the Ron from your PE class this morning who was whining about the laps he had to run.

‘I didn’t know he could act,’ you whispered to Harry, who was sitting next to you.

‘That makes two of us,’ Harry mumbled back as he raised his eyebrow at his best friend acting out a loud scene on the stage.

There were three other groups after Lavender’s group and then it was your turn. As you stood on the stage with the paper in your hand, you regretted ever letting your friends convince you to join them. All eyes were at your group but you saw nothing from the bright lights that were pointed at you.

Luckily for you, the most lines were given to Jennifer and Kayla for they also had a bigger part in the official play. Harry and you stood in the background and occasionally had to shout a spooky word, but most attention was focused on the two girls in front of the stage.

‘But, oh! How could you do that? Please tell me!’ Jennifer shouted out and you had to hide your face behind the script so no one would see your laugh. On the other side of the stage, Harry wasn’t even trying to hide his smile and you gave him a scolding glare. He shrugged and nodded at Jennifer, who was now running around her friend, while this one was trying to recite her lines without betting too distracted by the running figure.

‘Very well, very well!’ Mrs Stanley said when you were done and the four of you were standing on the front of the stage. ‘I like the dramatic approach you have taken.’

‘Yes, we were very focused on that,’ Harry mumbled softly and you chuckled.

‘That was the final group! I am more than happy now I have seen you all act together and I can’t wait to start rehearse the actual play next week!’ Mrs Stanley said and she dismissed everyone from the theatre.

You walked off the stage and grabbed your bag. You took out your phone and saw that Dean had texted you twelve times, asking you how it was going.

‘It could always be worse,’ Harry said to you, pulling your attention from your phone.

‘That indeed, imagine if we had the leading parts,’ you said and laughed as you looked at the awkwardness between Ron and Lavender.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n,’ Harry said and he walked away to Ron, who was searching for him.

Lavender and Parvati immediately rushed over to you and looked at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes and lifted your bag over your shoulder. While they complained about Ron you left the theatre and headed in the direction of your locker. While you dropped the books you didn’t need at home, Parvati turned to you.

‘So, you and Harry?’

You sighed and closed your locker, leaning back against it. ‘There is no me and Harry,’ you said, lifting your hand to brush away a speck of dust from Parvati’s shoulder.

‘Right, well you obviously had some chemistry there in the back of the stage. Don’t think we didn’t see it, sweetie,’ Parvati said and she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you with her to the exit of the school. Lavender followed behind.

‘Believe me, there is just as much chemistry between me and Harry as between Lavender and Ron.’

‘Ugh, why did he ever have to audition?!’ Lavender cried out.

=-=-=-=

The rehearsal got a lot more fun after you started with the actual play. With every week more and more started to come together. Despite the mutual annoyance, Lavender and Ron were a perfect couple and they nailed their parts.

Though you didn’t have a whole lot to do at the rehearsals; there was one scene you were in and you had only a few lines, it was fun to be at the rehearsals. You helped other people learn their lines and spent a lot of time with Harry, sitting in the back of the theatre and joke about the people that were rehearsing their scenes.

One or two times you were joined by Dean, but after he had seen that you were perfectly fine without him, he had decided that there were better things to spend his time on. Parvati was busy all the time with the lighting and sounds so she wasn’t around you a lot. Not that you minded, you had fun with Harry. He was perfect company and even made the boring scenes fun to watch.

In the past five weeks you had grown to him immensely. He had become a good friend of you. It felt like you had known him for much longer than you actually did. His humour matched yours and you felt he was more than relieved to have someone to go through this experience with.

Your scene with Harry was no longer than two minutes. You were two of the trees in the forest that Jacob and Amy travelled through. Jennifer, the lumberjack, and her dog, Kayla, would be on the point of chopping you down, when Jacob and Amy came by and saved you from your terrible fate.  ‘Thank you so much. You saved our lives,’ was your line and when Jacob would ask if you would like to join his feast, Harry’s line was: ‘Yes, please. It’d be a pleasure. Only if there was a way we could move.’ After which you both would be chopped down anyway.

At the sixth rehearsal you were helping a boy, Rick, learn his lines when Harry plopped down next to you, fifty minutes after the start of the rehearsal.

‘So, you just have to go over that last part and then I think you know it all,’ you said to Rick, who thanked you and hurried off to a quieter place to learn his lines. You turned to Harry. ‘Why are you so late?’

‘I had to stay behind with Seamus after our chemistry class,’ Harry explained and put out his arms. His fingers and hands were completely blue. ‘We spilled something and had to clean everything up.’

‘I want to feel sorry for you, but something tells me that you deserved it,’ you said with a small smirk.

‘Well, I’ll let you know that I rushed here immediately so you wouldn’t be alone. I didn’t even wash my hands.’

He brought his hands closer to your face and tried to bop your nose, but you caught his wrists and held his hands away from your face. He started to laugh and tried to get closer to you, but you were in a better position than he and managed to keep his hands away. However, just because his hands didn’t get any closer didn’t mean that his head couldn’t. Suddenly his face was so close to yours that you felt his breath on your skin. Something turned in your stomach and you stared at Harry a second too long.

You cleared your throat and dropped his hands. He leaned back, but since you were thrown off you didn’t notice his hand getting closer until it was touching your cheek. You felt the cold substance of whatever was on his hands leave a print on your cheek and your jaw dropped as you looked at Harry.

Before you could do anything, he had pressed both his palms against your cheeks, squeezing your face in between them. You started to sputter and pushed Harry’s hands away, but the damage was done. You didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that both your cheeks were now the same colour as Harry’s hands.

‘Harry and y/n? Your scene is up next!’ Mrs Stanley called from the front row.

You frowned and looked at Harry. He was staring at you in shock; neither of you had known that it was your scene that was to be practiced next.

Huffing you got up, trying to wipe the blue off your cheeks, but all that happened was that your hands were turning blue too now. And yet, you couldn’t help but laugh at your miserable situation. Harry, who had been rushing after you throwing apologies your way, was visibly relieved to see you smile at him.

‘It’s nothing, Harry,’ you said. ‘But I now do know that you absolutely deserved that detention.’

You went on stage and the bright light from the lamps on the ceiling shone in your face. You had to squeeze your eyes a little to make out where Mrs Stanley was sitting and you found her little away from you, looking at you with a strange expression.

‘What happened to your cheeks?’ she asked.

Next to you Harry put up his hands and showed his blue palms apologetically. ‘I might have stained y/n.’

‘Alright,’ Mrs Stanley said slowly while shaking her head. ‘Are you ready?’

----------

taglist:

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife @mt2413 @aesthetically-hailey @superbturtlemakerathlete @the-natureofme @missswriter

MASTERLIST

[ickle-ronniekins]

just friends

request from anon: I desperately need a fake dating trope with our fav Georgie boy with a cutie Gryffindor girl <333 pls?!

word count: 6.7k holy hell mates

A/N: WAIT OMG i’m obsessed with fake dating trope stories—they’re so cute! and i’ve never written any before! i don’t think, at least lmao. thank you for blessing me with this request, am so excited, also sorry i got a tad carried away

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added!

“Quick! Hide me!”

George Weasley normally doesn’t mind the fame, if you will, that comes with being part of the most well-known duo Hogwarts has ever seen.

In fact, he welcomes the attention. Maybe not as much as Fred, but he welcomes it, nonetheless.

That is, until a boisterous Ravenclaw is doing everything in her power to grab his attention. How many times can he possibly tell her, in the nicest way possible, that he doesn’t fancy her?

Maybe being nice, Fred explains to him, isn’t the way to go. He doesn’t need to be rude, but he needs to be aggressive—or, blatantly obvious in a way that she won’t be able to ignore. Why can he not seem to shake this girl? She’s undeniably obsessed, Ron laughs one day, as George does his best to push his headache away, his eyes tired from constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that feisty Ravenclaw is nowhere to be found. He was finding it harder than usual to concentrate in classes—and not in a good way.

George is used to the teasing by now—from his brothers, from Ginny, from Harry, from you—the friendly, fellow Gryffindor prankster—giving Fred and George a run for their money.

He ducks closer to you when he spots her peering, and you nearly choke on your soup during the feast, as the Ravenclaw twirls her hair, watching George with what can only be described as googly eyes.

“Oh dear,” you begin sarcastically, elbowing George next to you, “someone’s in rare form tonight.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sarcastically as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably, doing his best to block her out by adjusting himself so that Ron’s head covers her face. She notices this, and schooches over in her seat, until George is in her line of view again.

“Merlin’s beard,” he says through gritted teeth, looking down at his food, “I laugh at one of her jokes one time and she can’t seem to let it go.”

“These girls are crazy,” Ron says as he sips on his pumpkin juice, only to receive death glares from you, Hermione, and Ginny. “I—I mean, just that girl—not all women—” he uncomfortably clears his throat and smiles, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of scarlet.

“Have you tried landing yourself in detention more often than not?” Seamus Finnegan pipes up, “in me own experiences, girls don’t fancy a lad who’s always getting scolded,”

George shakes his head. “The more outrageous the prank, the more brutal the scolding, the more obsessed she becomes,” he tells you all begrudgingly, “I can’t bloody take it anymore.”

As the feast ends, George’s admirer stands up, eyeing him curiously, ready to make her move, yet again—but he finds himself scurrying out of the Great Hall as fast as possible—he’s flying up the staircase and it doesn’t even register with him that he’s not breathing until he enters the common room and lets out a huge sigh of relief. Only narrowly escaped that Ravenclaw, he did. He’s resting in an armchair as the rest of you wander inside a few minutes later, laughing at the flustered sight of him.

George doesn’t know what he’s going to do to get this girl off of his back. It seems as though he’s tried everything.

Unless?

A solution pops into his head very late at night whilst laying in bed, staring up at the curtains of his four poster in the darkness. He jumps up, checks his watch, and groans when he sees the time. In the bed next to his, Fred is sprawled out over his bedsheets, snoring quite loudly as if to say, I’m having a lovely sleep, thank you! George sucks in a breath and lays back down—his mind now swimming with ideas, his smile cheeky, his eyes widened. If this doesn’t give her the hint that he’s not interested, he doesn’t know what will.

It’ll just have to wait until morning, he supposes.

— -

“Y/N!”

You jump a little, not expecting to hear your name yelled across the Great Hall so very early in the morning. George spots you from the entrance, and after making sure there are no other unwanted guests around, he calls out to you and rushes toward the table.

“Hi, George,” you begin, smirking a bit, “you’re up early for someone who has a free period.”

“Needed to catch you before your Herbology lesson,” he places himself across from you and pours himself a bit of coffee—it’s aware to you now that he still needs a little bit of a pick me up. “I need your help.”

“Ah,” you reply and clap your hands together. “The time was quickly approaching—I’m in need of a good prank, you know! It’s been a bit since I’ve gotten involved in a bit of mischief, classes have been so bloody draining lately—so what were you thinking?”

George laughs at this. He does admire your sense of adventure and your equal love of pranking, but no. That isn’t what this is about. He sucks in a breath as he shakes his head, eyeing your curious look before opening his mouth again.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to get… you know who,” he eyes the Ravenclaw table suspiciously, “off of my back.”

You gasp audibly, bringing a hand to cover your mouth as your eyes widen. “Blimey, Georgie—you know who? Why didn’t you tell me that Volde—”

George nearly spits out his coffee due to a snort. Thank goodness he doesn’t. “Ha-ha, anyone ever tell you you’re absolutely hilarious?” He sinks into his seat and rubs his hands over his eyes, as if to brush away tears from laughing too hard. He then continues, after a bit of a laughing fit, “She just needs a push in a different direction, is all.”

You furrow your brow in confusion and bite into a piece of bacon. “And you need my help for that?”

“Precisely,” George tells you, scooping some eggs onto his plate. “Just hear me out.”

“That’s not a great way to start things out, you know.”

He scoffs and then grins cheekily at you. Then, he says, “You need to pretend to go out with me.”

You nearly choke on your piece of toast. “I beg your pardon?” you ask, completely stunned by his request. As you begin to laugh, George feels his insides tighten, and he wants to say, What the bloody hell is the big deal? but instead, he waits, and ends up laughing too.

“Oh, George,” you say after regaining your composure, spreading some more butter onto your toast, “you’re a riot, you are.”

When he doesn’t answer, but instead licks his lips impatiently and takes another sip of coffee and peers at you, as if waiting for your answer, you freeze.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“You’re bloody right I am.”

“So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so she’ll end up stalking me too?”

The two of you erupt into a fit of laughter. Then he peers solemnly at you with wide eyes, as if to beg. “Pleaaaase, Y/N?”

You eye him suspiciously. “What’s in it for me?”

He scoffs again. “Extra time spent with me,” a loud crunch comes from his mouth when he bites into his piece of toast, and he winks. “I know you can’t get enough.”

You snort. “Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley.”

He picks up his cup of coffee, holds it up across the table to you and asks before you have time to think things through, “We have a deal?”

You roll your eyes at this gesture, but he’s patiently waiting for you to agree. What will this mean, exactly—pretending to date one another? You’re about to ask him, but it’s almost as if you know—it won’t last long. Soon she’ll get the hint, and the shenanigans can end. You go against your better judgement, acting on the very fearlessness that landed you in Gryffindor house to begin with, pick up your cup of tea and clink it with his. Feeling very pleased with himself, he leans back in his chair and grins cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You narrow your eyes and say, “Fine—but only because you’ve asked so nicely.”

Just then, you both notice a giggling gaggle of Ravenclaws enter the Great Hall, and George is already feeling his insides begin to swirl nervously. He’s doing things before he can even fully register what’s going on—

He leans across the table and takes a chunk out of the piece of bacon you’re currently also biting into, his face just inches from yours. You nearly choke on it due to surprise of how close he is to you, and he can’t help but begin to laugh, yet again. Always laughing with you, he is. “Erm—excuse me! Eat your own breakfast, you git!”

Just then, you notice her eyes flicker back and forth very quickly between the two of you, before she slowly passes you both by on her way to the Ravenclaw table, careful to listen to whatever the two of you are speaking about.

George can hardly contain his nerves, but figures he might as well get started on this fake dating thing. The sooner she leaves him alone, the better off he’ll be, “Love it when you talk sweetly to me, darling.”

— -

“You two’re out of your bloody mind.”

Fred does not hold back his laughter later that evening when George divulges your plans. The unmistakable sound of Ron snorting bounces off of the walls in the common room, and he turns red in the face.

“You two? You two?”

“What?” you and George chorus together. George continues explaining to the younger redhead across from him, “It’s perfect—we’re best mates already, and we’re all in a bunch of the same classes together—maybe this will finally give her the hint,”

“It’s not going to work.” Ron replies, looking rather amused. He shoots you a look.

“Well, can’t make any promises, of course,” you tell the lot, “but I reckon we put in the work, it’s bound to fix the problem eventually.”

Ron, Harry and Fred continue to roar with laughter in the common room. “She will never fall for that!”

“Why not?” George asks a bit angrily. He’s nervous now—if this plan doesn’t work, he doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s going to do. Transfer to a school on the moon, at this point.

“Because,” Ron starts, holding back a snort, “Y/N’s Y/N and you’re—you.”

You and George glance at one another, and then back at Ron. The common room is now buzzing with chatter and gossip and it’s becoming hard for everyone to focus on the conversation. “Meaning?”

“I dunno,” Harry pipes up. “You guys just don’t really look like you’d be a couple.”

“Exactly,” Fred agrees, “you’re too—close. Friendly. You’re just.. friends,” he leans back casually in his chair with his hands behind his head, “it wouldn’t work. But, by all means—” he puts his hands up in surrender, chuckling before he continues, “—go for it and embarrass yourselves. I’m in a good need of a laugh.”

— -

Charms is, by far, George’s favorite class at Hogwarts. If he could take that and only that, he reckons he would. But with Little Miss Obsessed on the other end of the corridor, watching him as if her life depends on it, he can’t help but count down the seconds until the lesson is over—or, at least, the seconds until you get here.

You walk up next to him, finally, with Fred on his other side. “Morning, you two,” you tell them through a yawn. Your few cups of tea haven’t seemed to help your exhaustion from the night before—multiple games of exploding snap and copious amounts of butterbeer until the late hours of the evening did not do you good. You lean against the wall and close your eyes. “Are we awake yet?”

“Morning, Y/N!” Fred says brightly, patting you on the shoulder, waiting for Professor Flitwick to arrive and open the door to the classroom.

“Merlin, Fred, it is far too early to be this bloody excited about anything.”

Next to you, George laughs sleepily and nudges you with his elbow.

“Oh,” Fred replies. You can hear the smirk and mischief in his voice, even with your eyes half closed, “I just thought you’d be more excited to see your boyfriend this morning.”

This certainly wakes you up. You jump slightly and peer at George, who’s rather alert now, as well. You’d almost forgotten. Nearing closer to the classroom entrance, you eye the Ravenclaw, who’s watching you both very suspiciously and whispering to her cronies around her. Before any of you can register what’s happening, you lean over and place a kiss onto George’s cheek.

Fred stifles a laugh, Flitwick is opening the classroom door, the Ravenclaw is fuming, but all George can focus on is what just happened. Through gritted teeth and a very cheeky smile he’s trying his hardest to suppress, he asks you, “What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just abiding by the rules of your request,” you whisper back, grinning at him. “If she’s going to think we’re a couple, we better act like it, haven’t we?”

George hadn’t really thought about this—embracing you, kissing you, holding your hand. If he was being honest, he didn’t think about it because everyone had already mistakenly taken you two for a couple just a few months prior, when all you two had been doing is exactly what you’d done all along—be friends. He kind of just assumed the same thing would happen.

“Right,” he says, the heat of the fleeting moment dying down. “Yeah, of course.”

The three of you waltz into the classroom and take your seats near the middle, with the Ravenclaw sitting a few rows ahead, trying her hardest to peer stealthily over her shoulder at the two of you. It seems as though she’s definitely noticed something.

Flitwick begins the lesson and you lazily lean your head against George’s shoulder, sticking the back end of your quill in your mouth and listening as Flitwick tells you the desired page to turn to in your textbooks. Teasingly, George asks, “What am I—your pillow now?”

You turn to peer up at him. In a low voice you tell him, “If I’m going to be your fake girlfriend, you’re going to let me lean on you when I’m sleepy. Deal?”

You turn your focus back toward the front of the class and George can’t help but smile at you, shaking his head in admiration. He slings an arm around you and props himself into a more comfortable position.

“Okay, then. Deal.”

— -

George is now finding it incredibly easy to pretend to be your “boyfriend”. The hand holding, constant embracing, and laughing into oblivion seems to come naturally—it doesn’t even feel strange to him, and he’s amused to see that you’re taking it the same way. Probably because you got on so well with one another before all of these shenanigans started. Right?

While his admirer’s persistence has seemed to die down a bit, she still winds up watching and cornering him in corridors from time to time—but it’s easier with you arm in arm with him. She doesn’t linger too long, or continue to flirt obnoxiously with him. It seems as though your plan is working. Now, if only she can find a significant other of her own to pay attention too—

You’re sitting in Transfiguration, working on the bird conjuring charm you’d been dying to perfect in your free time whilst McGonagall steps outside for a moment to meet with Professor Sprout, and you’re doing your best to ignore the glares from the other end of the classroom.

“How d’you reckon the plan is working out?” Fred asks you both.

“Well, she’s certainly not as persistent,” George tells his twin in a low voice, eyeing the Ravenclaw stealthily across the classroom, “but I’m not sure she’s entirely convinced.”

You break your focus on the charm and turn toward the twins. “Reckon she will soon.”

“Yeah?” they chorus together.

“Yeah,” you reply, picking up your wand, not giving them any further information.

Fred crosses his arms and looks at you quizzically. When you neglect to continue, he asks with a twinge of sarcasm to his voice, “And how, may I ask, do you know this?”

You stifle a laugh and practice your flourishing movements without conjuring the charm. “—‘cause.. she’s just got to, hasn’t she? I’m telling you—we keep this up for a bit longer, and she’ll forget all about you. Mark my words.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Avis,”

A puff of smoke emits from your wand, along with a loud blasting sound, and then a flock of birds twitters in front of you and you stand up straighter in front of your desk, feeling extremely pleased with yourself.

“Bloody hell,” Fred and George say together, peering admiringly at the flock of birds you’d managed to conjure. George continues, “That is N.E.W.T Level stuff you’re doing, Y/N!” He picks you up and spins you around, your hair flying into your eyes. You’re weightless to him. When he places you back down gingerly on your feet, he brushes the hair gently out of your face and says, “You’re brilliant, you are.”

Breathlessly, you answer him, “Thanks,”

His hand is still in your hair, his fingers delicately brushing your cheek. George can suddenly feel his insides tighten and his face go rosy—but why?

The entire world seems to stop around you both. It’s as if nobody else exists.

Thankfully, though, when both of you snap back to reality at the sound of McGonagall re-entering the classroom, you both see that nobody else has seemed to notice your small intimate moment.

You pull nervously at the edges of your sleeves and take your seat again next to George, who is running a hand through his hair. When he turns to look at Fred, who must’ve noticed this small exchange, George is relieved to see that there’s no cocky or amused expression on his face—he’s merely pouting due to the continuation of the Transfiguration lesson.

�� -

The weather is surprisingly warm for a winter day. George is seated up against a tree near the water’s edge, fiddling with something in his hands—an invention, no doubt—when you plop down next to him with a slight groan.

“Long day?”

“Why in the hell did I decide to take Double Herbology?” you whine, letting your bag sink into the ground next to you. You place your head into your hands, grinding your knuckles into your temples to rid yourself of your headache. You elbow him slightly, “How come you didn’t stop me?”

George laughs, looking back down at this knick knack in his hands yet again. “You were pretty adamant about taking doubles,” he recalls, thinking back to when you’d originally picked these few classes, “don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, well,” you begin, breathing in the smell of the sweet air, picking at the grass in between your fingers, “I suppose it was sort of a silly decision, wasn’t it? I’m bloody exhausted.”

Up near the castle, Ron spots you two and is about to run down to join you both, when Fred tugs on his robes and holds him back, nearly choking him. “Oi!” he exclaims, turning back toward his older brother. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“Before we all head down there to join the lovebirds,” Fred begins, grinning cheekily at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, “I’d like to pick your brains.”

“About what?” Ginny and Hermione ask together.

“Well, precisely what I’ve just said,” Fred tells them, leaning against the entrance of the castle, his bag slung over his shoulder. “The lovebirds.”

Ron and Harry glance at Fred quizzically. “What about them?”

“I’m starting to believe this whole fake dating nonsense isn’t really fake at all.”

Harry laughs at the site of Ron’s agape mouth, when Ginny just shakes her head at her older brother. “You’re off your rocker, Fred. No way they’re really together. They would’ve told us, no?”

Fred crosses his arms. “I’m not so sure of that.”

Harry asks him, “How d’you reckon?”

“I was watching them in Transfiguration the other day,” Fred begins to tell them, watching to make sure the two of you are still out of earshot. “We were all chatting whilst McGonagall needed to step out, Y/N was doing some really advanced type of magic—N.E.W.T Level,”

Still, Ron’s jaw is dropped. He’s seemingly impressed. “Blimey—really?”

“Not the point of the story, Ronniekins.”

Ron turns a bright shade of pink and goes very silent at everyone’s slight snickers. Fred continues, “Anyway—we were all talking about how this plan of theirs was unfolding—to be honest with you, I haven’t seen much of that Ravenclaw around, but George swears she’s still pining over him. So, Y/N does this really advanced charm and George nearly topples over, picks her up and spins her around—you know,” he turns toward his brother and sister, “like those scenes in those silly Muggle movies mum watches. Then, everything went really quiet between the two of them, and they were just—looking at one another, for a really long time.”

Hermione asks, “Like how, exactly?”

Fred thinks on this for a moment. Then he replies, running a hand through his hair, “Like they’re in love.”

Ginny narrows her eyes. “So? Doesn’t mean they’re actually in love. I mean.. they are supposed to be acting like a couple—that’s the point of all of this.”

“So,” Fred says, ignoring everything else Ginny has just mentioned, “I’ve got a plan.”

Ginny turns toward Hermione, “Never a good sign.”

Fred nudges his sister playfully through bits of hearty laughter from the group. “I think we should slip them both a love potion—see if anything changes—if it does, we know they truly are faking. I’ve got the antidote all ready to go.”

“A love potion?” Harry asks.

“Those pink bottles you’ve got all over your room at home?” Ron adds.

“Yes,” Fred says brightly. “Admittedly—it’ll probably be one of our most popular inventions in due time. But Merlin, they are dangerous—you know, when it comes to love, and all that.”

After nearly everyone agrees, Fred begins to put his plan into action—when it will happen, the time of day, just exactly how they’re going to pull it off—when Hermione decides to interject her opinion.

“Nothing’s going to change, you know.”

Ron nearly drops his bag onto the ground. “D’you know something we don’t?”

Hermione laughs. “No, of course not, but—well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” But clearly, it isn’t quite as obvious as it should be. “They’re already in love!”

Before Ron, Ginny, and Harry can interject their thoughts and objections, Fred turns toward her and says, “Cheers, Hermione.”

“You agree, do you?”

“I do,” Fred replies, now focusing his attention on the two of you down by the lake. It seems to him, he realizes, that while your love may be obvious to some, it’s the two of you that are completely oblivious. He watches as you sink back into George’s chest, his arm slung around your shoulder as you both continue to laugh animatedly about something. Fred points and says, ”Just look at them, would you! D’you see the Ravenclaw anywhere near here? No.”

“Fred,” Harry begins, “if you think they’re faking, then why in the bloody hell d’you want to waste a love potion on them?”

Fred just smiles evilly. “So it’ll be easier to get them to just admit it already.”

— -

“Okay then—enough homework for one evening, I’m absolutely knackered,” you tell the twins, folding up the parchment of your Potions essay and slipping it carefully into your bag, “you two coming back to the common room?”

“Yeah, in a bit,” Fred says, a look of absolute disgust on his face as he flips through his spell book, “this assignment is a right pain in the—”

He stops himself when he notices Madam Pince in the corner, eyeing him suspiciously. You ask them both, “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nah, that’s alright, I know you’re exhausted,” George tells you, appreciative of all the help you’ve given them already. “You go on.. we’ll meet you before you head off to bed.”

“Alright,” you reply sweetly, leaning in to place a featherlight kiss to his cheek. His hair at the nape of his neck feels so soft beneath your fingertips, “See you later.”

The Ravenclaw at the next table, Fred notices, isn’t quite as angry at this exchange as she would have been a few weeks ago. Has everything truly been working in their favor?

But George hardly notices—he just looks back down at his bit of parchment and continues to work on his conclusion, trying very, very hard, in Fred’s opinion, to suppress a grin. It’s rather noticeable alongside the cherry red color of his cheeks.

Only a few minutes pass by of silence between the twins before Madam Pince is hurrying everyone out of the library. The group of Ravenclaws make their way, albeit slightly reluctantly, to the opposite end of the castle toward their common room. George has never been so happy to be heading up to bed.

“Oi, Georgie,” Fred begins as they trudge through the corridors, “how long d’you reckon this thing between you and Y/N is going to last?”

“Dunno,” George tells his twin truthfully through a yawn. His four poster is so close, just a few more corridors to get through… “Until that Ravenclaw stops showing up everywhere I go, I suppose.”

Fred snorts at this comment. “Well, you can’t help class, mate.”

“Yeah, but, I mean everywhere else.”

Fred tugs on his brother’s robes and gets him to stop right before the entrance to the common room.

“C’mon, just be straight with me,”

George just glances at him with a confused look.

“About Y/N,” Fred prods.

“What about her?”

“You may be fooling everyone else, but you’re not fooling me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fred’s feeling slightly annoyed at his brother’s obvious denial now. “I know how you feel about her, Georgie. I see the way you look at her. Why don’t you both just come out and say it so you can be together for real?”

George actually has to place his bag on the ground. He rolls his eyes—somehow, he knew this was coming. “What the bloody hell are you on about? We’re just friends, like you said—this is purely strategic.” George turns around, picks up his bag, and is about to say the password to enter the common room, but—

“Strategic,” Fred echoes his twin. “Right. So I guess I can go along with my plan, then, slip you both love potions, make sure there’s definitely a change in your feelings toward one another so we know you are truly faking—”

This certainly grabs George’s attention. He can feel his heart thundering in his chest. He turns back toward his twin with narrowed eyes and asks, “What plan?”

“Oh, sorry—forgot to mention,” Fred jokes, careful not to wake any sleeping portraits, “I told the rest of the lot that I’ll be conducting a.. bit of an experiment, if you will—for research, you know. Don’t worry—got the antidote ready to go for when you both, of course, fall madly in love—”

“Fred,” George says through gritted teeth, but lets out a laugh, as well, “I’m not taking a love potion. First of all, those are prototypes for the store, remember? Reckon I’d need to be barking mad in order to take one of those anyway—we know full well how powerful they are.”

Fred’s been ready for George to argue about this. “But I told you, I’ve got the antidote—” Fred’s grinning cheekily at his twin now, he doesn’t even mind getting cut off completely.

“The answer’s no, Fred. You’re out of your bloody mind.”

“What are you so afraid of mate?” Fred laughs and punches George in the arm. “Are you scared that your feelings are going to change?”

George doesn’t want to answer this. He quickly runs a hand through his hair and suddenly seems a bit on edge. He absolutely hates getting cornered like this—he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something sharp lodged in his throat. He opens his mouth to argue, but once again, Fred takes him by surprise.

“Or, I wonder—are you afraid of them not changing at all?”

— -

George hasn’t slept in days. Weeks, maybe. No, that’s being too dramatic—maybe three days, tops. But to him, it certainly feels like a much longer time.

He drags himself, quite reluctantly, toward the dungeons. He’s looking forward even less to the Potions lesson in front of him. He can barely pay attention on a normal day—now, when he’s sleep deprived and running on not much other than caffeine and his own musings, he’s almost certain he’s going to fall asleep just walking there.

Until he spots you, of course, strolling down the other end of the corridor. You see him, too, wave frantically, and bounce your way over to him. Perhaps, he thinks, Potions won’t be so bad after all.

“Hey,” he says brightly, nearly over the moon to see you.. even if it is early in the morning.

“Georgie! I’ve got news,” you say excitedly, poking him in the ribs and wiggling your eyebrows at him. “Guess what I’ve found out?”

George is peering at you, as if in a dreamlike trance. His voice floats through the air between the two of you. “Tell me.”

“It’s about you know who,” you tease, “got herself a boyfriend, she has.”

George suddenly feels very warm. Blimey, it’s hot. He loosens his tie a bit, a hitch in his voice, “Wait, r-really? Where’ve you heard that?”

“Saw them together in the Great Hall—some Slytherin bloke,” you tell him, clutching your spell books tightly in your arms, “she was nearly drooling all over him—reckon her obsession will move to him now, no?” When George doesn’t share the same enthusiasm you do, you prod him with your wand and joke, “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for this girl.”

“Merlin, no,” George answers quite quickly. You watch as his expression changes from sullen to chipper within a matter of milliseconds. “That’s great news! Gets her off my back, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly,” you reply, “and now you don’t have to hang around little old me all the time. Not that I don’t enjoy your company—” you add quickly when George furrows his brows, “I just mean, now you’re able to go after any girl you fancy, not worry about her anymore—”

“Yeah,” a laugh escapes his lips, “yeah.. reckon you’re right! Blimey, have got to tell Fred.. he was starting to get freaked every time she so much as glanced over at us.”

Students begin to walk a bit more speedily, and you both realize the sound of the bell is drawing nearer. You push playfully on his chest and say, “Anyway—wanted to tell you before class! Meet me in the common room before dinner, yeah?” And before he can answer, you flash a toothy smile and turn in the opposite direction, making your way as quickly as you can toward the library.

You want to tell him. You want to tell him that you’d heard him and Fred that night when they’d been discussing love potions and whatever Fred has up his sleeve—you’d gotten caught up in the corridor around the bend, chatting with another student about an assignment, and had heard the entire exchange. You reckoned it was best to just end it now, before things get really messy.

Things seemed to be working in your favor, though. You hadn’t lied. That Ravenclaw did find herself a boyfriend, so, it seems as though the plan you two had formulated had worked, and that’s a good thing—right?

It’s the first time in—weeks, months?—that you and George part ways without a kiss on the cheek, a tight, romantic embrace, and it makes him feel weird. Off balance. He doesn’t like it. Is he really.. missing those times? Doing those things with you? He shakes his head in defiance, begrudgingly making his way toward Potions. Fred’s words ring in his ears. Just friends. Even if he does feel those things, it’s obvious that you don’t, he realizes. You’re nearly bouncing off the walls knowing that this fake relationship is over. So, why doesn’t he feel the same way? Why does he feel so sad?

He swallows thickly before bumping into Fred. They make their way into the classroom, George’s head and heart feeling heavier than they have in weeks.

Little does he know, you’re sitting in the library, staring into space, a piece of blank parchment in front of you, feeling, if not more so, the exact same way.

— -

A few days later, George can finally sit in the Great Hall in peace without ducking behind anyone, crouching down in his seat, or skipping feasts altogether. His prior admirer seems so wrapped up with her new love, that George Weasley might as well not even exist. He feels relief wash over him.

He’s sitting with Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione, but you—you’re nowhere to be found. In fact, he hasn’t seen all that much of you in a few days time. Guess he sort of got used to always having you around. Loads of Herbology assignments, you told him the day before with a cheeky grin, reckon Doubles is catching up with me.

“So Georgie,” Fred says brightly through mouthfuls of potatoes, “reckon we should get back to our regularly scheduled mischief now that our unscheduled hiatus has been lifted, yeah?”

“Oi, Fred, can’t you see that he’s not listening to you?” Ron asks before lifting a hand to slap George right across the face.

“Easy, you two,” Ginny scolds them and grabs Ron before he can do anything. Then she taps her older brother on the shoulder, “Hey, earth to George.”

“What?” George says, finally joining the group, the haze above his head lifting slightly, “oh, erm, sorry.. was—distracted.”

Fred eyes his twin curiously. There’s a tiny bit of sarcasm in his voice, “What’s going on, mate? You’ve been awfully quiet since your little plan wrapped up.” But even in his delirious state, George knows what Fred is trying to do. And he’s so bloody exhausted and tired of fighting everything that he doesn’t even argue. Instead, he takes the group by surprise, and stands up without touching his meal. “What’re you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done months ago!” he calls as he flies toward the entrance, maneuvering himself between students and professors alike. He’s doing things without fully registering what’s going on, he’s taking steps three at a time, he’s jumping through the portrait hole in a huff, he’s panting heavily with a very confused you in front of him, baffled at his state.

“Hey there,” you say brightly, “you alright?”

When George catches his breath, he takes you by surprise. “‘m doing just fine, love.”

“Love?” you ask teasingly, “you missing what we had, Georgie? Our fake little relationship?”

“It wasn’t fake.”

You shoot him a glance and freeze completely. George is almost certain he can hear the pounding of your heart reverberating off of the common room walls. He’s thankful, now that he’s recognized, the two of you are completely alone. “It—it wasn’t?”

“Of course not.”

You offer a nervous grin, and George knows he’s said the right thing. The tension between the two of you is rising and you ask him jokingly, “This isn’t a love potion talking, is it?” Realization hits him like a ton of bricks and he lets an exasperated laugh escape his lips. Damnit, Fred. He shakes his head no and waits with bated breath for your next words.

“So this,” you say, pointing back and forth very rapidly between the two of you, “it’s..it’s been real this entire time?”

“Of course it’s real, it’s always been real,” George is finding it difficult to breathe correctly now, “hasn’t it been real for you?”

But you realize, as you’re choking back tears, that by saying yes, you’ll only be delaying the inevitable—which is, of course, to kiss him into oblivion. And you’d both waited bloody long enough already, hadn’t you?

So instead of saying anything, you bite back a very large grin before stepping forward and pulling on his tie and pressing your lips to his. He’s not even surprised—if anything, he’s relieved, to finally know what it feels like to have your lips on his after many moments having dreamt about it. Immediately, you want to ask him why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time, but you can’t bring yourself to break from him now that you’re intertwined together. It’s slow and warm, his lips molding perfectly with yours, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, soft moans escaping his lips, the rest of his fingers making their way through your soft hair. It sort of feels as if you’re floating, actually, bouncing delicately from cloud to cloud, high above the trees and the castle. Breaking slightly and pressing his forehead to yours, he says, “So, erm, silly question—but are we—?”

“If you even have to ask if I’m your girlfriend for real now, you’re out of your mind, Weasley.”

George’s head is spinning. He leaves trails of kisses along your cheeks, your neck, and your collarbone, all before finding your lips again, and as they form a smile against his own, he can’t seem to shake the feeling like he’s coming home.

A very amused voice startles you both, making you part at the mere sound of the clearing of a throat. “Alright then, Ron, Ginny, Harry—you all owe me two sickles each. Hermione—cheers again, reckon you did well to agree with me on this one.” And then, when he notices you two watching, Fred says, “Oi—well it’s about bloody time.”

“I’m sorry,” you begin, doing your best to not think about the scarlet color of your face, or the fact that they’d all seen quite possibly the most intimate moment you and George have shared together, “you lot placed bets on us?”

“Sure did,” Fred replies, looking rather pleased with himself as he’s handed his earnings from a very grumpy looking Ron and Harry. He slides the sickles into his pockets and crosses his arms in delight.

As Ginny and Hermione squeal excitedly and wink at you before heading up to the girls dormitory for the evening, George pulls you back into his arms, confidence engulfing him, and says to the others, “If you don’t mind, we were kind of in the middle of something here.”

The tips of Ron’s ears turn extremely pink and he smiles warily. “Guess you didn’t have to use those love Potions after all, Fred,” Harry says.

With a wink at you both before making his way toward the stairs, Fred replies, “Was never going to, actually. Just had to make them think I was. Knew these two would break eventually.”

“Hate to admit it, but you’re kind of brilliant,” Ron says admiringly, but continues to pout when Fred slings an arm around his shoulders and tells him,

“Next time, Ron, just side with your wiser, older brother, yeah?”

You turn back toward George, your arms around his neck. When you make sure the others are finally out of earshot, you say to him, tugging gently on his tie again, “He’s outrageous, he is.”

“Got us together, though, didn’t he?”

“I suppose I’ll give him that one.”

“Oh,” Fred calls from the top of the stairs, “and Y/N? No snogging my brother until the wee hours of the evening, alright? He needs his beauty sleep.”

“Shove off, Freddie,” you call. A cackle of laughter floats down from the boys dormitory, but you find it easy to ignore. What do they know? The two of you have tons of lost time to make up for. You stand on your tippy toes, press your forehead to George’s before he kisses you again. He lets out a soft laugh when you say against his lips, to a Fred who can’t hear you, “Can’t make any promises.”

reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading & requesting x

[indiestix]

twitterpated

Here is another prewritten one shot that is also blairon! I’m willing write something other than blairon. I for the life of me cannot write straight ships as a main ship so that pretty meh. Am I the only one who's fine with spending hours alone in my own room when its pitch black just looking at words for the sake of it? I mean, it is pretty fun. This one had 2k words so yeah, it may not be the biggest one-shot you've ever read so excuse that minor detail. I might post some head cannons I have for my HP ships as well. 

                           •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Ron was in awe of him.

He was almost as popular as Malfoy, with even Malfoy as his friend.

He was the only Slytherin in Professor Slughorn's "Slug Club" mainly because he was one of the top students in potions, aside from his mother's connections.

He was a sensible, grounded person, who actually knew the right time to speak along with being level headed.

And to add on top of that he was quite an attractive person, which was why Ron had no idea on how he wasn't with anyone yet romantically.

Of course the boy that put Ron in that love-struck state was none other than Blaise Zabini.

But Ron couldn't ever imagine a universe where Blaise would love him back.

                                             ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"As it is a new semester, and also a fresh start to the new year, Headmistress Mcgonagall has suggested that all professors, including myself, should be rearranging the seating plan. This isn't very new, but as Hogwart's new goal to creating more inter-house relationships, whether platonic or not, we would like to encourage that type of thing more. So please, accordingly line yourselves up at the front as I reassign you to your new seating partner.", Professor Slughorn explained to his sixth year class which contained both Slytherin and Gryffindor students.

Murmurs could be heard as the students all slowly slunk towards the front of the class, with Gryffindor on one side and Slytherins on the other, whispering their complaints and worries about how all of this could end.

"Professor, if I may, but if we are pairing with someone from another house and we are brewing a potion, how will you know who actually did the potion and who to give the points to?",Hermione blurted out stepping out of line. She secretly sent a glare towards the Slytherins which was quickly returned back by Pansy Parkinson.

"Wonderful question Miss Granger! The points will be evenly given to both participants. And I can assure that all of you will be working instead of slacking off.",the old professor replied jovially as Hermione stepped back in line.

After a few more questions asking about how this inter-house seating arrangement would even work, from both the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses, Professor Slughorn eventually started listing out the seating partners.

"Ms. Granger and Ms. Parkinson, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Nott, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter...", Slughorn continued on as Ron lost almost all interest. He'd rather wait to see the day where Seamus didn't blow up his potion instead of having to wait for his name to be called.

"...And lastly, Mr. Weasley with Mr. Zabini.", Professor Slughorn finished, with his regular, cheery tone.

Thankfully, Ron managed to keep his face from heating up as he slowly trudged behind the Slytherin boy towards the very last desk, on the left-hand side.

Since the rearranging of the seating plan had taken so long, Professor Slughorn decided to use the last fifteen minutes of class for the partners to socialize and get to know one another.

"So...",Ron started nervously scratching the back of his head looking at the slightly shorter boy who lazily leaned against the wall, his arms crossed.

"If you're trying to start a conversation Weasley, anyone could tell how much of an amateur you are at starting one.",Blaise drawled as Ron looked at him in utter bewilderment.

"I-uh..",Ron stuttered his face slightly became coated with a crimson red blush before composing himself.

"You are quite the Gryffindor Weasley.",Blaise remarked, quietly chuckling, with Ron starting to laugh soon after.

"Either way, it's nice to actually meet a Slytherin who isn't as stuck up as the rest.",Ron smiled warmly.

"You actually think that every Slytherin is stuck up? We're just more in control of our emotions. Besides, you may be a pureblood, but that doesn't mean you were raised like the other purebloods.",Blaise answered nonchalantly, as he sat down on the high-legged stool behind him.

"Well, all of my older brothers had dealt with Slytherins and all of their antics, so I guess what they told me just rubbed off onto me.",Ron told Blaise grabbing another high-legged stool behind him to sit on.

"I would hate it if I had a sibling, more so an older one. I don't get how you even withstood having three older brothers.",Blaise laughed again, while also easing the tension from their conversation topic prior to this one.

"Five actually. I had two more brothers who graduated before I got to Hogwarts.",Ron chuckled as Blaise's eyes widened in surprise.

"Your mum had to take care of six boys and a daughter on top of that? How did that woman even handle it?",Blaise smirked with a hearty laugh from Ron as a response.

"I don't even know. But she sure was strict.",Chuckled Ron.

"What a bummer. My mum was to busy with her husbands to even properly discipline me.", Blaise admitted with a sarcastic sigh.

"Ok class! Thank you to the most of you who did talk with one another, but you may head upstairs to the great hall for lunch now. I heard the elves have cooked something great today!",Slughorn announced to the class as he left before his students, eager to eat.

As Blaise had picked up his potions book and was about to join his friends for lunch, Ron did something he never thought he would do.

Ron quickly tugged Blaise's sleeve as Blaise was about to leave making the sixth year Slytherin boy turn around confused.

"Sorry Zabini, but do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?",Ron said quickly as his fingers involuntarily twiddled around with one another on his lap.

"Like a date?",Blaise inquired, slightly smirking.

"O-oh, n-no! Just as friends! I mean if you want to be friends.",Ron stuttered his face quickly turning as red as his hair.

Blaise's smile faded slightly as he frowned, albeit, Ron had't noticed this, and was too busy looking at his lap with a greatly warmed face.

"Why not. Would you like to meet at Honeydukes on Saturday at around twelve o'clock? I haven't had chocolate frogs since last semester.",Blaise replied as he smiled again.

"Great!",Replied Ron, who managed to compose himself, once again.

Blaise turned around to see Pansy Parkinson impatiently waiting by the doorway. Blaise turned back around and gave Ron a lopsided smile and a small wave before grabbing his potions book and quickly walking over to Pansy.

"Bloody hell, I think I just befriended him.",Ron thought to himself, dumbfounded, whilst shaking his head after the two Slytherins were out of sight.

                                                 ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Skip to the Saturday morning of Ron's meet up with Blaise, and Ron was a complete wreck.

Emotionally, of course.

Ron paced around his dorm room in circles worried about what could possibly happen.

What if Blaise thought he wasn't good enough?

What if Blaise thought he was to poor to even befriend more so get together with?

What if Blaise found out he liked him?

What if Blaise never even showed up and it was just a prank?

Ron was going in circles both emotionally and physically until he was shook out of his trance.

It was just Neville.

"Are you okay? Hermione just told me that you should be going now if you want to make it on time to Hogsmeade.",Neville told the distressed redhead.

Ron frantically casted a tempus charm to see that it was almost twelve, the time that he and Blaise agreed to meet up at.

"Shit!",Ron hissed as he ran out of the dorm grabbing a warm jacket along with his newest sweater from his mum. Whilst he was leaving, he also left a confused Neville left to ponder on who the boy was meeting at Hogsmeade.

                                              ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Ron saw Blaise waiting for him in the front of Honeydukes with a light gray sweater and an emerald green woollen scarf.

When Blaise noticed the redhead hurriedly running towards him, he waved and smiled as Ron was panting quite heavily trying to catch his breath.

"Are you okay?",Blaise asked genuinely worried that something had happened to Ron.

"I'm fine, I just didn't realise how late I was until the last minute so I ran here so you wouldn't need to wait. But how long were you standing there waiting for me?",Ron countered.

"Just about ten minutes.",Blaise chuckled at the red-faced redhead.

"That long? Bloody hell, I'm so sorry, are you cold?",Ron asked not wanting Blaise to be sick thanks to him.

"Not that much, although it is surprisingly cold for a January afternoon.",Blaise replied.

"Yeah, Hermione told me that the muggles were doing that. She says it's because they don't know how to clean up after their messes. It's somehow destroying the world.",Ron laughed.

"We should probably go inside, fourth years have started crowding the entire place at thirteen o'clock. It's quite the madhouse.",Blaise said, grabbing Ron's hand and pulling him into the freshly painted pink and turquoise building.

Ron was beyond grateful the boy pulling him hadn't looked back at Ron, or else he would have seen Ron's overly flushed face.

Once inside the candy store, Blaise hadn't let go of Ron's hand, seemingly forgetting that they were holding hands in the first place.

But of course Ron wasn't going to argue.

Walking down the small twists and turns of the candy store was quite tiring but after ten minutes the boys found the chocolate aisle.

"How many should we get.",Blaise asked Ron.

Ron fished his pocket to find his coin bag and remembered that he had around two galleons worth of sickles in there with probably a bit extra. The chocolate frogs were one chocolate frog for two galleons. So at least he could afford one chocolate frog and wouldn't embarrass himself in front of his crush.

After the two bought their chocolate frogs they stopped at the front door.

"How many did you get? Most I could get was one chocolate frog.",Replied Ron with uncomfortableness lining his voice.

"I just settled for two, but I insist you take one of mine.",Blaise told Ron, taking one of his chocolate frog boxes and shoving it into Ron's hand.

"I'm sorry, I can't, you paid for this.",Ron said holding out the given Chocolate Frog box for Blaise to take back.

"Nonsense, I could just buy another some other time. Take it as a thank you gift for inviting me to Hogsmeade.",Smiled Blaise before opening the door for them to exit to store.

"What do you want to do now?",Ron asked as they only made plans to go to Honeydukes.

"We could just walk around. I mean, do you want to walk?",Blaise replied.

"Sure.",Ron grinned.

                                               ⋅��⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After about 10 minutes of walking around the Hogsmeade grounds it started to snow, much to Blaise's distaste.

"I said it before and I'll say it again. This is to cold for a January afternoon.",Blaise shivered.

Ron chuckled before slipping off his jacket and putting it on Blaise. Blaise's face warmed up in embarrassment but it was quite hard for Ron to tell as the oblivious redhead had thought it was just because he gave him something to keep him warm.

"Are you okay now?",Ron asked gently.

Blaise just smiled at Ron and hugged him as Ron's face stretched wide as a smile formed on his face also.

"You know, anyone would be lucky to have you, you're too nice.",Blaise said.

"Well I would be lucky to have them.",Ron answered.

"Well come on then Weasley, I'm sure we can find you a special someone another time."Blaise smirked at him him.

                                             ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The two stopped to sit on a ledge after half an hour of walking around. It was almost thirteen o'clock and Blaise was both quite knackered.

"I never realised how tiring walking could be.",Blaise yawned.

"Well now you have. Should we go back then if you're so tired?",Ron queried with some amusement in his voice.

"No, Pansy is currently in a mood and I have no intentions on being in the same room with her when she's in that kind of state.",Blaise replied wearily as Ron laughed.

"Well you could just sleep here. My shoulder is free."Ron reasoned without a thought, as Blaise yawned before promptly falling asleep on Ron's shoulder.

When Ron realized what he did he was a mixture of embarrassment and surprise on his own behalf.

So in all, he was quite shocked.

Another thirty minutes passed before Ron nudged Blaise awake. It was only thirteen-thirty, but they were supposed to be back before fourteen o'clock and it would take a bit of time to return to the castle without a carriage.

And Ron was not in the mood to wait in the carriage line for fifteen minutes, just for the carriage ride to be another fifteen minutes. And the professors were quite strict, even if a student was only a minute late. Once, a student had received two weeks of detention with Professor Snape for returning back to the castle five minutes after the curfew.

The two walked back quietly for a change and Ron kept glancing down to both his, and then Blaise's hands. Merlin knows how much he wanted to hold them.

Halfway to the castle, Ron and Blaise's hand briefly brushed up against one another and Ron had to fight down the crimson blush from eroding his pale, freckled cheeks. Blaise for one, seemed to not have noticed the entire situation.

                                                ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When the two boys could see the gates leading into Hogwarts and the crowd of students lining up to be accounted as returned on the Hogsmeade list, Blaise grabbed Ron's hand and quickly dragged the puzzled redhead behind a tall array of bushes where nobody would be able to see them.

"Sorry Weasley for dragging you, it's just that- I just wanted to thank you for the afternoon. It was really enjoyable.",Blaise told Ron, though not meeting Ron's eyes.

Ron unthinkingly went closer to the Slytherin. At this point he wasn't even focussing on he possibilities of what could happen.

Ron slowly closed his eyes, leaned downwards slightly, his hands snaking around the Slytherin's slim waist and he kissed him.

Right on the lips.

The kiss was short, with Ron's lips brushing not very forcibly pressed against Blaise's own. But Ron's face looked exactly like his fiery red hair.

Ron's eyes widened as he realised what he did.

He just kissed Blaise Zabini.

But before he could process much more, he was pulled down into another kiss, except a better one this time.

After a few seconds, Ron's mind finally had a grasp of what was happening. His eyes closed again as he pulled the Slytherin closer to him as his hand were still coiled around Blaise's waist. He never wanted to let go of him.  

Blaise pulled away first as Ron's eyes were still closed, a bit discombobulated from the separation.

Ron realized Blaise's hands were wrapped around Ron's neck as Blaise hugged him.

"I can't believe we just kissed.",Ron grinned widely hugging Blaise back.

"I'm more surprised on how you aren't even that bad of a kisser.",Blaise smirked as Ron just hugged Blaise tighter playfully.

"Should we go back to the castle? I'd reckon the others might be waiting for us.",Ron assumed.

"I'd reckon so too Weasley.",Blaise replied as Ron let go so they could walk back to the castle.

This time they walked back to the castle holding hands.

And Ron was absolutely love struck.

                                     •┈┈┈••✦ :— Fin —: ✦••┈┈┈•

[acnelli]

Bearded Glory

I finally found the time to put my one-shots on Tumblr too. I wrote this one for @hillyminne who organised and still organises these lovely hangouts. Here’s the masterpost with all the fun and lovely things which had been created as a thank you for Hilly <3 I would also like to thank @manny-bgm and @abradystrix for beta-reading and Brit-picking this story. You might detect some things inspired by Hilly’s art and @rijsamurai‘s Auror Ron.

When Ron came back from Auror training, Hermione found herself being quite fond of a certain change in Ron's appearance.

This story is also available on FFN and AO3.

Two bloody years finally over, Ron thought, as he robbed through thick, cold mud, already able to make out the finish line, which should be not even a mile away, according to Ron’s calculations.

Through the splashing and gurgling of their muddy underground, Ron could make out Harry’s heavy breathing and the occasional swear word from somewhere behind him. “Just one more mile, mate.”, Ron shouted, craning his neck towards his friend, almost hitting his head on a tree trunk above him. “One mile and we’re done with this shite.” Harry didn’t bother to answer as he was quite busy to ignore the burn in his lungs.

As Ron reached the end of their last obstacle, he leaped up from the ground, trying to get a footing with all the muddy water in his shoes. Not an easy task, since the ground was slippery and a fountain of water made its way down from his hair and drenched clothes. Careful to not lose his trainers, he ran towards the finish line with wobbly legs and what seemed to be a thousand tiny needles attacking his lungs. With a slight jump, and something between a groan and a cry of relief, he finally made it, immediately breaking down onto the ground.

“Well done, my boys.”, a chipper female voice broke through Ron’s awareness, though it honestly surprised him he heard it in the first place, considering he was wheezing his lungs out.

“Elly…please.”, Harry groaned, who must have collapsed beside him just a few seconds ago. Ron couldn’t tell for sure though, since he still tried not to pass out. “I…Just go away.”, his best mate demanded between heavy breaths. Ron only gave an agreeing grunt. Elly, their mentor and trainer for the last two years of Auror training, just laughed, kneeling between Harry and Ron, smiling down at them.

“You did it.”, she sang completely out of tune, while giving both men what probably should’ve been an encouraging pat on the knee. Although Ron and Harry yelped in pain from this pat on their scraped skin, and were still being unable to move a muscle, Elly stood up, clapped her hands and demanded of them to stand up.

“We just have an hour until you leave for home, and you will certainly not take this Portkey until I have a proper picture with my two accomplishments,” the young witch stated, hands on her hips, but still that annoying smirk in place.

Ron and Harry knew better than to argue with her about that. Truth be told, they didn’t have a problem with this particular picture, since they both wanted to have a reminder of the day that marked the ending of both the most annoying, but also the greatest two years of their lives.

“Alright, alright.”, Ron sighed, trying to muster up the little energy he got left to stand up, reaching his hand out to Harry, who did the same. With the two men standing in an upright position again, Elly gave them both one of her famous bear hugs, while telling her trainees how proud she was of them. Despite the still aching muscles and side stiches from hell, they returned the hug in earnest, while only just realizing that this was the start of a whole new adventure.

“We could’ve never done this without you.”, Ron smiled at Elly. “But you surely could’ve warned us about this last run, as you liked to call it. Honestly, we could’ve died or something.”

“You Gryffindors sure have a tendency to exaggerate, haven’t you?”

“I rather think you Hufflepuffs have a tendency to underplay,” Harry countered, cleaning his glasses.

“Said it before and I’ll say it again, you Hufflepuffs are barmy,” Ron said with a playful voice. “Before you drag us off to brag about us, where are the showers, woman?”

************

After taking a well-deserved shower, Harry and Ron changed into their formal Auror robes. And not their everyday work attire either, but the fancy black robes, which Elly insisted them on wearing. The two friends were both secretly happy to parade these around, since they looked bloody good in them.

Two years of Auror training lay behind them, and Ron was torn between feeling relieved and strangely sad. Those last four months happened to be their final Boot Camp, as Elly liked to call it, which mainly consisted of training for their Auror test. Due to the painful shortage of staff in the Auror Office, their training got shortened to two years, making it much more intense as a result. This last run though wasn’t part of the test, but nothing less than an Auror training tradition, so of course, it had to be done, much to the young men’s dismay.

“I have to admit…I kind of like this.”, Ron mused, running his hand over his beard, as he watched his reflection in one of the mirrors of the changing room.

“Suits you quite well, mate.”, Harry said, as he closed the last silver button on his cloak.

Neither of them had bothered to properly shave this last four months. Their days usually consisted of waking up, training and learning all day, and sleeping as soon their heads hit the pillow. As a result, they both looked quite wild in the end, hair and beard much longer than usual. Of course, Elly wouldn’t have any of this, so she had given Ron and Harry a complete make-over the day before their test, ignoring their protests all together. As it turned out, she happened to be quite talented with beauty charms, so they didn’t exactly hate the way they looked now. Even though Ron usually never let his facial hair grow beyond some three-day stubble, Elly surprised him with only trimming his unruly beard, leaving it just well-groomed.

“Come on, let’s get this picture, and then we can finally leave for good.” Harry suggested. So, they both gathered their wands and made their way towards the rest of their group.

After what seemed to be a thousand blinding flashes, Elly had been satisfied with the result, promising them to send copies of the pictures as soon as possible.

Harry and Ron were ready to take the Portkey home, saying goodbye to everyone and promising to make it on time for the official festivities next weekend.

In all the hustle to get the Portkey on time, Ron completely missed the mischievous glint in Harry’s eyes.

************

Hermione tried not to stare. Actually, she figured that she never tried harder to not look at Ron. Of course, she failed spectacularly.

Harry, you sneaky little monster., Hermione thought, sending one of her death glares his way, which he successfully didn’t notice all evening.

That bloody picture was my undoing, really. And Harry is well aware of that, isn’t he?

Around midday, a couple of hours before Ron and Harry came back from their last day of Auror training, Harry’s owl Athena arrived at her parents’ home, delivering a small envelope. After taking the letter, she fed the exhausted bird some treats, and let her relax in her room for a while. She came all the way from the Isle of Skye after all.

What was so important that Harry couldn’t tell her in person tonight? As she opened the white envelope, there was just a single photograph falling out. She picked it up from the floor, reading the note on the back of it first.

Dear Hermione,

thought you might appreciate this picture Elly took of Ron, minutes before his wandless magic demonstration. Honestly, look at him Hermione…you got some fine ginger snack coming back to you.

See you later,

 Harry

As she turned over the picture, she couldn’t help but agree. Ron clearly hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t cared that Elly took pictures of him, as he looked concentrated and nervous. His eyebrows knit, and eyes slightly narrowed, he held up his right hand, obviously practicing the lightning charm, as lightning bolts evolved from his half-closed fist.

This alone could’ve resulted in Hermione starring at this picture forever, but what really got her obsessing over it, had been Ron’s beard.

Ron with a beard. An actual beard. And by all that’s holy, he looked so incredibly good with it.

Merlin, she already had been more than a little frustrated the last four months, not being able to see him. Of course, this hadn’t been the first time they were separated for so long, but this last training session sure felt torturously like forever. Seeing a bearded Ron, illuminated by lightning, looking highly dangerous, made her want to take Ron right up to Grimmauld Place, skipping the dinner Mrs. Weasley was hosting tonight, and just snog him senseless. Naturally this wasn’t possible, so here she was, trying to get her thoughts under control.

Hermione swore to herself to never talk to Harry again about Ron, drunk or otherwise.

 Just before Harry and Ron were leaving for Auror training, the three of them met up with the old D.A. members. While Ron still had been busy with one of Seamus’ famous drinking games, being the only one of the Trio to still keep up with it, Hermione confided in Harry that she wished for Ron to grow a beard.

“I love his stubble, but I’m sure he would look quite sexy with his beard a little longer.”, she had told Harry.

He looked at her funny for a second, before breaking out in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”, she asked angrily, since Harry seemed to be unable to stop.

After several minutes of Harry trying to control himself, and Hermione getting more and more annoyed, Harry was able to speak again. “You know, I just had that thought.”, he whispered, clearly still trying not to laugh. “Since you obviously have a thing for bearded men, I wonder how you could control yourself around Hagrid.” Another fit of laughter broke out, but it didn’t stop him from wheezing out “Or Dumbledore.” That was Harry’s undoing then, because after that, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence anymore, and already got himself a nasty side stich from all the laughing.

Needless to say, that Hermione ended this conversation right then and there.

Of course, Harry hadn’t forgotten about Hermione’s little confession, and decided to send her a tease right before she would see Ron again.

Would it be too obvious to pretend a stomach ache at this point?

As Hermione mused about the possibilities to sneak away with Ron, she stole another glance at him, only to discover that brilliant blue eyes stared right back at her. His eyes happened to have this certain glint, which always meant he was up to something. Hermione sincerely hoped it would include leaving early tonight.

After what seemed like forever, Ron finally beat Ginny in a mean game of Wizard’s Chess.

Although still being quite impatient to get home, Hermione put the time to good use in unashamedly ogling Ron, her former intends not to stare long forgotten.

“Finally, some decent competition again. I got bored out of my mind only playing against Harry and Elly the last four months”, Ron said while pulling Hermione onto his lap. He loosely slang an arm around her waist, and Hermione immediately leaned into him, feeling all warm and cosy as she started to trace his brain scars with her fingers. Merlin, she really missed him.

“I’m still better than Elly though”, Harry pointed out, helping Ginny to put the chess set away. “So, I guess Ginny and I call it a night then. Are you sure your bed is large enough for the both of us?”

“I admit that you got yourself some fine definition being away, but you didn’t exactly gain a ton of muscle, Harry. You’ll fit”, Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, which Harry answered with an eyeroll.

“Maybe that had been the polite way to say you got fat over the last couple of months.”, Ron offered Ginny another explanation, earning himself a blow to his shoulder.

“You better stop being cheeky, if you want Grimmauld Place to yourself tonight.”, his sister countered.

“Wait, what?”, Hermione asked Harry. “You’re not staying at Grimmauld Place?”

“Nope. Ginny and I are kipping at the Burrow tonight. The house is all yours, under the condition to have it to ourselves tomorrow.”, Harry clarified.

Hermione couldn’t hold back her grin as she looked up at Ron. These are fantastic news.

“That’s very…considerate of you, thank you.”, Hermione smiled at Ginny and Harry, which made Ron bark out a laugh.

“Yes, thank you Harry.”, the red-head said. “As you did this out of pure nobleness and chivalry, and certainly not because you lost to me tossing a coin.”

************

“So…after you won the house for us, what are your plans?”, Hermione murmured between kisses, her hands busy with Ron’s beard.

Ron gave her his trademark lopsided grin as he hoisted Hermione up in his arms, eliciting a surprised squeal from her.

“Well, what do you think about a long, nice bath for a start?”, Ron asked while carrying her up the flights towards the bathroom. “It had been an awful long time since we had one together.”

“True that. As long as it doesn’t make us too drowsy for some…night-time activities.”

“You know, it’s adorable that proper Ms. Granger still can’t say bad words.”, Ron laughed, kissing her reddening cheek.

“I can say bad words, you just wait.” Hermione tried to put up a glare, but failed due to the smile she just couldn’t put off her face.

“I’ll take you up on it.”, Ron said, sitting her down on the edge of the bathtub. With a flick of his wand he began to fill the tub with hot, soapy water, which gave the room a rich scent of pine needles and something delicious Hermione couldn’t quite place.

A few minutes later, she leaned against Ron’s chest, completely relaxed and ridiculously happy. Hermione enjoyed the vibration of his chest as they talked about Hermione’s last project at work and about Ron’s plans regarding the Auror department. Every now and then, Hermione reached up to stroke his beard, and if Ron noticed her sudden interest with his gin and cheeks, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Alright, enough about work. This is supposed to be romantic.”, Ron laughed, slightly tightening his grip around her middle. “Should’ve lit some candles.”

Hermione giggled as she wiggled out a little of Ron’s embrace to grab her wand, intending to light the chandelier behind them. Just as she freed her wand from the pile of clothes beside the bathtub though, something else fell out.

“Oi, that’s me!” Ron quickly snatched the picture up from the ground and settled back into his prior position in the bathtub. Hermione tried to hide her blush behind her hair, as Ron read Harry’s note on the back of the photo. Something between smugness and embarrassment appeared on his face, and the longer he looked at Hermione, the more it seems to become smugness.

“Do you like my beard, Hermione?”, Ron asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, as he put his arms around her again, pulling her against his chest.

“I might have told Harry that a beard would look good on you.”, Hermione sighed, and forgot about her embarrassment, when Ron started to kiss the side of her neck. “And he obviously didn’t forget about it.”

Ron caressed her cheek to turn her head towards him. He gave her a long, heated kiss that left Hermione breathless, before retreating again, looking at her with a huge grin on his freckled face. Before Hermione could snog the smug grin away, Ron had to say one more thing.

“Well, feel free to enjoy it. All this Bearded Glory.”