#privet school

[thinkpink212]

Pov: You come from old money, go to your country’s most prestigious privet school with other affluent & elite black girls. You never study hard, only smart. All A’s, all smiles & all laughs. You’re deeply blessed and deeply grateful 🤎

[alexandraprivet]

Barbie: Princess Charm School (2011) + letterboxd reviews

[hptheboywholived]

Harry Potter & the Philosophers Stone - by Breath-Art

[peregrine21]

“Royal Gala Escapade” - Alexandra Privet x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Alexandra Privet x Reader (Barbie Princess Charm School)

Includes: fluff/angst

Warnings: homophobia/forced dances w suitor guys

Word Count: 2,266 (wow I hit 2000?! Such a rarity :o)

Brief Description: Alexandra is your Lady Royal and your parents threw a ball with suitors to find a prince to marry you off to before they hand down the throne.  Oops turns out you’ve been secretly dating your lady royal for a year and a half and that may or may not come to light in front of everyone t the ball. Initial reactions not so great but Alexandra is there for you through it all :)

~~~

You were finishing up your makeup as Alexandra curled your hair for you in preparation for the royal gala. This was a major gala set up by your parents to finally find you a suitor, and you were already anxious. Little to their knowledge, your continued distaste in the princes wasn’t just due to some of their demeanors or appearances. Even you could admit several of them were quite handsome, well mannered, chivalrous, and respectful. They deserved a princess who could truly love them, but that wasn’t you. Your heart already belonged to Alexandra. Publicly, she was merely seen as your lady royal; behind closed doors, however, there was much more between the two of you. Royals weren’t known to take same-sex courting lightly, as they saw it as a threat to their lineages, so you both decided to keep your relationship secret. You'd have nothing to worry about if only your parents weren’t traditionalists who wanted their daughter married to a prince before handing down the throne.

As you stared into the mirror touching up your eyeliner, Alexandra noticed the nervous look on your face, “it’ll be fine darling, we’ll be together all night.” You close the felt tip pen momentarily and give it an extra shake, “I know love, but I still don’t think our courtship will go over lightly if it gets out tonight. I'm just afraid of what could happen”. Alexandra combed through your curls with her fingers to fluff them out. “Well whatever happens, I’ll be right there with you”. After a few more touch ups in comfortable silence, a knock on the door could be heard, followed by the butler’s voice: “Princess, you are expected to enter in 5 minutes”. “She’s just about ready, we’ll be right down!” Alexandra called back. You gave her a nervous glance and she cupped your cheek in her hand, rubbing it over with her thumb before leaning in for a light kiss. “I’ll be right with you darling, promise.” All you could muster was a small smile before she led you out the door, her hand on your lower back as you walked to the grand staircase for your entrance.  

You reach the top of the staircase and take a deep breath, Alexandra’s hand still on your back. After a few minutes, your name and title are announced, followed by Alexandra’s name and position as your Lady Royal. Upon hearing your names, the two of you begin the descent down the staircase. You exhale as you descend the extensive and elaborately embellished staircase, not one person in the room looking away from you. Your appearance wasn’t what worried you; Alexandra had made sure every detail of that was perfect. It was the line of princes at the bottom of the staircase and the hushed voices of guests bidding on which one you’ll pick. Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, each prince was announced one by one followed by the proper formalities: their name was called, they bowed, and you curtsied and thanked them for coming to the event. Of course all of this being purely ceremonial, there was nothing much to look into. But that didn't stop guests from reading into each greeting to see if you favored any of the princes more than the others. One prince, Nicolosi, was definitely bolder than the others as he called claims on the first dance with you in his greeting to which you couldn’t say no without being seen as rude or uncouth. Naturally, after the formal greetings were over the king, your father, announced for the ball to commence. Nicolosi was quick to take your hand and pull you to the center of the ballroom. The music began, and the two of you started a waltz as the rest of the guests danced around you, giving ample distance for the both of you to have space and some sort of private conversation. He tried to get to know you, asking about interests, opinions, and more baseline questions as if this was some sort of school orientation. You entertained his small talk until the dance was over and you were able to thank him and part ways. To your annoyance, however, it didn’t even take 15 seconds for the next prince, Alexander, to come and ask for a dance. Similarly, he made small talk as the two of you danced; it didn't take much effort or thought as royals were taught ballroom dancing from a young age. Alexander, au contraire to Nicolosi, chose the conversation questions of what you were looking for in a relationship to which you attempted to answer vaguely as not to give anything away. The next prince, Bradley, delved into opinions on political and social matters which led to some disagreement and an awkward second half of your dance. Of course following was Gabriel, Theodore, Tristan, and probably a dozen more lined up. After half a dozen dances and forced conversations, you had to excuse yourself to take a breather. 

Both your parents - as well as Alexandra - followed suit as you made your way to the banquet for something to drink and dine on. Your father tried to dismiss Alexandra but you insisted she stay with you as you took a breather from all the princes prying and prodding with their questions and conversations. You started to fill a plate as he attempted to gauge your feelings toward the princes, but you ignored his questions and made your way up to your place at the table with Alexandra. The princes were next to fill their plates and the general guests after. As you ate, you did have to answer to some of your parents’ prodding but remained vague and still showed a general disinterest in all the suitors thus far. Even in the slightly passing thought of settling for one, you couldn't bring yourself to consider any of them. The only thing making this slightly bearable was finally having Alexandra with you again as she rubbed your arm as a form of silent support. You observed the princes as they ate, noticing much roughing around, several spills, loud laughs and remarks, and more. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their lack of  etiquette, cleanliness, and maturity. Once your appetite had been sustained, and slightly diminished, you rested your head on Alexandra’s shoulder as you continued to spectate the crowd and observe the behaviors of the suitors. You noticed your mother with a concerned look glancing at you and couldn’t tell if it was because of the boys’ behavior or your outward affection towards Alexandra. You almost stopped caring, unable to imagine a happy future where you settled for one of the princes. There was a massive chance your relationship with Alexandra would finally be exposed tonight given your parents wanted a choice made by the end of the night. Alexandra noticed the worry on your face and the tension your body held and placed a hand on your thigh, rubbing it with her thumb. You took a deep breath and exhaled in exasperation, and she turned her head slightly in your direction, “Whatever your decision, I’ll be right there with you.” You smiled as she raised her voice, clearly wanting your father to hear her next statement, “I understand this is all a lot for you, but I’m absolutely sure your father wants nothing more than your happiness.” He agreed with her statement as you both looked over at him. “Exactly! I know you haven’t been keen on all this romantic stuff, but it would be too overwhelming to rule the kingdom on your own. It’s not that your mother and I want to rush you into marriage, we just don’t want to put the entire weight of the kingdom on you alone. And, of course, we want you to be happy with whoever you decide to start a courtship with. That’s why we made sure you’d have so many options tonight.” You understood his reasoning and told him so, but still were nervous on how he would take your decision. As much as his reaction sounded like he’d be open to you courting your lady royal, it didn’t seem definite. 

The dinner concluded, and the ball became more of an informal mingling. Several of the suitors had become intoxicated and started acting more brash and uncouth. You made your way back down to the main floor with Alexandra in tow, choosing a quieter area this time towards a wall. In a few moments, Bradly noticed the both of you and walked over, his gait wobbly, and leaned against the wall with his hand. You started to scoot back, but he adjusted his position to be right over you. Some of the other princes started to gather nearby, either watching what he would do or waiting for their own moment with you. You tried scooting away but then Bradly planted his other hand down boxing you in, “nuh-uh, noohh, you’re not going anywhere, you’re such a pretty little thing. Why waste it on them when you could have me, I –” Alexandra quickly cut him off as she pulled you out from under his arm and into her own, “I’d say that’s quite enough, this is not how a prince is supposed to act.” He stood up, visibly aggravated, “Who are YOU, … to tell ME,.. how to act?!, YOU’RE just an assistant, … I’M a prince, … so I think you–” 

“ENOUGH!” You cut him off.  “I’m not picking any of you!” Your father stood from his seat in shock, your mother with a jaw dropped expression just the same. “You know who I pick?, I pick Alexandra! That’s FINAL! She treats me with care and respect! She can tell when something is off and knows how to help! She has more elegance, maturity, manners, and skill than ANY of you have exhibited thus far during and prior to this ball!”. The entire room was silent, and Alexandra held onto you ready to make a run for it as the tension built in the room. Sure enough princes started screaming and throwing their fits, guests were going wild between their own confusion and the bets several of them had placed on which prince would be chosen. You were overwhelmed with all the yelling and chaos that your frustrated outburst had started. Alexandra, however, was ready. She snapped you out of it and pulled you out the nearest door and into the garden. You both ran, some suitors and guests following. She took you through turns and passages, losing the crowd before running up to your room and locking the door. The chaos was too much, and you just threw yourself onto the bed, her plopping beside you. After a few minutes, you were finally able to collect yourself a bit and take in the reality of what had just happened. You started laughing. Tears formed in your eyes, and Alexandra also laughed beside you. Neither of you really knew how to feel but just had to get all of the tension out of your systems.

“Did I really just do that?” you turned your head to look at her. “I believe you did, darling,” she turned her head to look back at you. “Well, I suppose it’s out now, though all those princes might be mad at me for a while. I don’t take it they’ll fancy coming to our wedding”, you laughed at the latter half of your statement. Alexandra just looked at you wide eyed with the most loving look of admiration gracing her face, “You mean…” You smiled, “Yes darling, I mean I would like to marry you. If you’ll have me, that is.” “Yes! Yes, I’ll have you!” tears formed in her eyes. Neither of you had ever thought you’d really get to this point; it had always seemed like a far out fever dream that you two would ever actually marry each other. "What about your parents, will they be alright with you marrying me?” she asked, a concerned look on her face. You turned on your side and cupped her cheek in your hand, “Why don’t we worry about that tomorrow, and for now… can we just cuddle up and sleep? I kinda don’t want to worry about anything else for tonight.” She giggled and replied, “I think that sounds like a plan,” before getting up and taking your hand in hers to pull you up with her. She then helped you out of your gown and the two of you got out of your formal attire, pulled down your hair, and took off your makeup before cuddling up together and turning in for the night.  

About an hour later, your father opened your door quietly and once he saw you two were there and fast asleep, closed it with a small smile. He had said after all that your happiness came first and he could see Alexandra brought that to you. Frankly, he was glad to know you would be in a loving relationship with her rather than in a questionable one after observing the princes’  behaviors himself at the ball. Although this was rather new and unconventional, your happiness was most important to him and your mother, and they would figure out how to deal with any discourse amongst other royals if need be. There was no reason to worry you about that when you had finally chosen your queen and had a wedding to plan. This was a time for you to be happy with your soon to be wife. 

The End :)

Writer’s speech:

 Hope it’s alright, I haven’t really written in a hot second (lol sorry for that, I’ll try my best not to go awol for a massively extensive period of time again). I guess this would be the first x reader with Alexandra that I’m aware of which I have been saying I’d write for a while now. Anyway, expect more to come, I have several plans and probably some Nana Bassler (anime: Plunderer) x Fem!Reader coming up next. Def will have some extra fluffy romance and flirting planned for her as well as a few spicy fics in the works as well :) Hope y’all have been doing well and I look forward to engaging with y’all and providing y’all with more content soon! 

Note: I would also be glad to get “x fem reader” ideas and maybe requests for the characters I write for, I will be sure to make a post listing those characters later. May also set up a formal sign up for tag lists.

[pinkalluna]

Fun fact: Before Headmistress Privet taught at Princess Charm School, she was also a Headmistress at a boarding school in England! :)

[aleabea]

i love how ive planned an entire drabble collection around a character in a movie who only appears twice on two separate paintings

(my cursed pairing: queen isabella x alexandra privet)

[stranger-writing-danger]

rain is seeping in you see the lawn ahead drowning in water and dew You see the page and the line of ink the bleeds into parchment

I see the picture

the mumble of words I want to say

have always wanted to say

and find as the ink touches my paper i am voiceless they can not hear my intention blocked my eyes from the sun light from your vison my words are jumbled and unreadable messy and wrong yet i dip my finger and write them anyway premature and crude you look at my intentions and through squinted peircing eyes. you understand me you see the picture that has existed just for me and I weep

because despite my crudeness, my dripping ink stained fingers. you see me.

[ominousminx]

I cannot be the only one...

Right??

[phineastratchet]

Alexandra privet, barbie princess charm school

[theres-a-bea]

heyyyy hellooooo ˃̵͈̑ᴗ˂̵͈̑

for the WIP game, which two Barbies are you planning to smack together? which characters are having smooch time?? I need to know because this sounds hilarious to me !!

HELLO WORMIE !!! You really came through with the barbie ask ily 🥰🥰🥰 It's definitely Headmistress Privet and Princess Isabella

(I don't have a complete concept yet but I do have a few rough ideas) (All I know is that it involves Dame Devin's coup somehow) (I might even turn it into a gay delancy fic)

[fayes-fics]

Ruler & Subject

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x royal!fem!reader

Summary: blurb where a princess and a certain untitled artist play together…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, power swap, dom/sub dom!Benedict, sub!Princessreader, hair pulling, blow job, deepthroat, breathplay, derogatory names, masturbation, swallowing, smidge of cunnilingus and face-sitting.

Word count: 1.4 k

Authors note: Another smut blurb that came as a result of a roulette prompt (“Swallow. All of it”). Written in an hour. Unbetaed. Utter and complete filth. Enjoy? 🤷‍♀️

Something about his slightly rough treatment makes you mindless with need—a want to be used by him. And he knows it. Gets that glint in his eye when you give him the signal across a room at a boring soirée.

Once in a quiet corridor, he grabs you by the back of the neck and steers you away from prying eyes. Out across the manicured gardens. Deep into your aunt’s Byzantine maze, a mist clinging to the neat privet hedges in the crisp night air.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to get on your knees anymore; it’s a reflex. As soon as he stops marching, you drop. Eager to please. His crooked smile beguiling as you gaze up at him roughly, pulling open the buttons at his hip.

“Hands behind your back,” he tuts as you go to touch his clothed thigh. 

Instantly, you obey, fingers clasped over the small of your back. The rough pebble path under your knees is already a slight discomfort you know will only heighten your experience. Bruises on both your knees for him.

His cock is already leaking as it bobs against your nose, leaving a patch of wetness there that you will savour later. Without being told, you shuffle a fraction, greedily wrap your lips around the tip, suckling into your mouth. Hot, salty and tart against your tongue as you lathe the underside, and he exhales raggedly. A large hand rounding your scalp and pulling your hair at the root, a slight burn on your scalp.

“What's your signal?” He checks quickly.

You raise your left hand and tap twice on his outer thigh. Then, obediently, place the hand back. You never want to use it. 

“Good,” he nods, scraping blunt fingernails over your crown. “I’m not going to be gentle,” he warns, a prickle of excitement running down your spine at that news.

He thrusts his hips forward and slides his cock deep into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the blunt force attempting to school your gag reflex.

“Eyes open,” he snaps, “you will look at me the whole time.”

You do as bidden. Wide-eyed as he holds for a few beats, watching you suckle hard and accommodate his girth.

This is what you crave. So very opposite to who you both are; the role reversal and personality juxtaposition are intoxicating. A strong-willed princess on your knees for a sweet, affable, untitled artist. But not when you play like this. He is dominating and rough, bossing you around in ways no one dares. And you revel in it, insist upon it. The submission, the abdication of power, control. The pleasure to be used when, in all other aspects of your existence, you are the designated user, purely by the luck of your birth. 

“My filthy princess,” he coos, one hand moving to tap your hollowed cheek, a thumb hooking into the corner of your mouth to break the tight seal you hold around his cock. “Relax your throat; let me in,” the order is velvet and steel, just like his shaft.

Slackening your suction, you exhale around him, letting your throat open. He tips forward, deeper than before, groaning at the restriction your throat provides, a bead of precum sliding over your tastebuds as he rocks back moments later.

Then his hands clamp around your ears, and he is thrusting. Using your pliant mouth, your lips a ring of soft friction as he grunts, a slick gurgling noise every time he plugs your throat. His movements get rougher, plunging in, his grip strong in your hair, the gravel crunching around your knees and toes as he rocks your whole being. 

He stills, your nose buried in his pubic hair as you burble around his invasion, gaze locked on his. Unable to draw breath, You know he is waiting for that slight hint of panic on your face before giving your reprieve.

He withdraws, letting you take a shuddering, coughed breath as ropes of saliva web from your lips to his glistening cock.

“Call me it,” you implore hoarsely, feeling your spit drooping across the priceless large diamonds that drape around your neck.

“Wanton little slut,” he growls, and you flood yourself, a trickle of arousal running down your trembling inner thigh to your right knee.

“Please fuck me,” you beseech as he roughly moves your head around by your hair, chasing your mouth with his cock, a game of cat and mouse he is playing with himself as much as you.

“No. Ride your fingers if you must, but tonight, you stay on your knees.”

You whimper in disappointment before he slides back into your mouth, holding still shallow, awaiting your suckling attentions. Which you enthusiastically do. Humming and lapping at his cock, sucking hard with your tongue swirling over his frenulum. He mewls little noises, praising your talented mouth as you hitch up your skirt and hurriedly drive two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, wishing it was his cock.

He takes over again, thrusting deep as you ride your own hand, spiralling greedily towards completion. His gaze slips down, and he smirks when he sees your hand thrust under the hem of your dress.

“Give me that hand,” he instructs, holding still a weight over the length of your tongue as you offer your hand above your head. 

He pulls your arm straight, a slight burn in your shoulder socket as he wraps his warm, wet mouth around your soaked fingers and laps at your juices lasciviously. 

“You always taste so deliciously sweet,” he groans as he lets your fingers slip from his lips, thoroughly cleaned.

You can’t answer, your mouth too full, but he already knows it, both so feral for each other's taste. An irresistible tang that leaves you constantly coming back for more. 

Just last week, he was buried under your cloak, making you orgasm - silently - over his tongue in the royal box at the opera. You wanted to scream louder than every singer on stage but had to settle for a vice-like grip on your opera goggles and a few ragged, mute whimpers. Knowing he would stop immediately if you so much as made a peep. You are sure other box patrons likely saw him emerging from under your layers, a smug smirk on his dampened face, before being summarily dismissed from your company. And yet word never got back to your mother, the queen of Prussia, or your aunt Queen Charlotte. Women of power need their pretty playthings, likely being the Ton’s shared sentiment.

Urgency takes over for both of you. A need to climax clawing at your beings. You roughly rub your clit as his movements turn sharp, more pronounced, using you without mercy, knowing it is driving you closer, too, the heady sensation of denied breaths. You feel his peak as much as you hear his barked warning, a ripple up his shaft that has you readying yourself for the salty, tart taste, his tip at the back of your tongue. You have to hold your breath as it coats the inside of your mouth, him curled over and around you, cursing, his hand heavily matted into your hair.

“Swallow,” he commands. “All of it.”

You do as you are told, almost unable not to, mouth filled, his hand slipping to your throat to ensure you follow the directive.

“Good,” he groans, rubbing your windpipe soothingly with his palm as he shudders with little aftershocks.

You feel the throb of denial, unable to complete before he did, your clit burning, engorged, needing relief. As he withdraws from your mouth, you cannot stop the little shimmy in your hips, desperate for reprieve.

“Did my little Princess not finish?” he chuckles as he tucks himself back into his britches.

You pout and shake your head, looking up at him imploringly. The smirk that grows on his face makes your heart light up.

“Alright, you can sit on my face,” he offers conciliatoryly, sinking to join you on the ground. “But it will cost you…” he ends with a clipped warning.

“What is the price?” your voice slightly hoarse, eagerly gathering your dress around your hips and shuffling over him.

“I’ll think of something,” he hums affably before disappearing under your gown.

You offer him half of Bavaria when he slides his tongue deep into your slit and has you howling at the moon. Instead, ever your loyal subject, he settles on what you already had planned for him—one of his paintings hung in the National Gallery and you wearing a choker with his initials hidden amongst a cluster of sapphires.

No taglist cos just a writing sprint blurb.

[alexandraprivet]

Her shoulders are back You'll never see her slack And even if she falls She'll laugh and stand up tall

Barbie: Princess Fall School (2011) feat. individuals affected by Blair Willows

[ghostselkie]

I see three possibilities for when Lenore remembers the nickname she had for Annabel.

The most likely one: Lenore remembers the nickname during the divorce arc and purposely refuses to use it until she and Annabel make up and make out. I think this could be very powerful if done well. The boring one: Lenore only remembers it after she and Annabel make up, and promptly starts using it.

The funny yet potentially angsty one: She remembers it during the divorce arc, and it just fucking slips out. If in public, the misfits (and poentialy the cluster fucks) would get suspicious. Lenore would likely be screaming internally. Annabel would be ecstatic, that her Lenore returned to her, but then remember that that Lenore is fucking pissed at her rn. Que angst. If it happened in privet it would be almost all angst.

Regardless, I think it would be really funny if the two people the whole school thinks hate each other, start calling each other by fucking pet names. Like Annabel already does, but people likely think it's a condescending nickname. But for Lenore to start calling her Annie, that's going to raise a few eyebrows

[arliedraws]

The laws for underaged magic in the WW are so damn inconsistent. In OotP, the Order members and Harry have to fly from Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place on broomsticks because if someone performs magic around an underaged wizard, the Ministry can detect it, and THEN two seconds later, someone puts a Disillusionment charm on Harry. So WHAT is the RULE??? How does the Trace work???

It’s occurring to me now that I personally find it interesting if one were to apply an equity lens to the Trace as a way to keep Muggleborns behind in magical schooling. Part of Harry’s problem with underaged magic is that he gets in trouble for violating the Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in front of Muggles, and because there are no other wizards in Little Whinging, the Ministry can attribute any use of magic to the underaged wizard who lives there. Because the Trace is activated when anyone uses a spell around a magical child, I believe R*wling says that in wizarding homes, it’s simply up to the parents to patrol their children’s use of magic.

Considering this, one can see why Muggleborns would fall behind their pureblood peers in academics. We see this in the real world how the summer disruption of learning can set back many students who have been systemically disadvantaged in contrast to affluent peers who attend summer camps and study with tutors during the break. So if you have Muggleborns who aren’t allowed to practice magic because it’s against the law and the Ministry has a built-in detector for such, you’ve got pureblood kids who can use magic all they want at home if their parents don’t care (or perhaps even actively encourage their children to practice).

Of course, this contributes to further disparities within the magical community. You’ve got students who’ve grown up in this world and don’t have to waste time learning the culture, AND they have the privilege of at-home practice. Then you have Muggleborn students who are thrust into a foreign culture with new vocabulary and expectations/customs who, when they return home, cannot legally cement the physical practice of magic they just learned. When it comes to exams in fifth and seventh year, this discrepancy would absolutely lead to an overall imbalance of scores. Pureblood students would, on average, perform better on exams which would grant them higher positions within the Ministry of Magic, and in turn, they would maintain the laws regarding underaged magic that served them so well, thus preserving conditions that make the false notion that “Pureblood wizards better at magic” appear to be true.

In any case, I still don’t know how the Trace really works because the books are inconsistent about it, but it’s an inequitable law. Anyway, I think it’d be interesting to explore more!

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Muggleborn!Dursley!Reader introduces Blaise Zabini to video games during the summer they spent together at 4 Privet Drive when Mrs. Zabini was on yet another honeymoon

I personally don’t think the Zabini’s are blood purist. I feel like they’re a more sophisticated version of Horace Slughorn who collects talented and well connected people.

Yesss!! First, I wanna say I’m really loving the Blaise x Muggleborn!Dursley!Reader dynamic! I honestly really just love the idea of Dursley!Reader with the whole Slytherin crew in general (Mattheo and Enzo included). And just them all being overprotective and possessive of their Muggleborn!darling, platonic or romantic. Especially someone so closely related to Harry cause you know it gets an irate reaction from him.

I love to imagine that Blaise and Dursley!Reader had so much fun with one another during their summer together. The Reader is just so happy and excited to show their classmate/housemate muggle stuff, meanwhile Blaise is honestly just happy and content seeing them so excited and open to share parts of their life outside of school with him.

Like, I could see the Reader having persuaded Petunia and Vernon into taking them all to the zoo, or the movies, or a museum. Heck, even to just drop them off at a muggle park. If Petunia and or Vernon wouldn’t take them then Blaise would just have his Squib driver take them instead. Harry of course is coming along whether he’s welcome to or not, meanwhile Dudley is too freaked out to/being kept back by Vernon, not to mention both Blaise and Harry make it pretty clear that he isn’t invited either way.

Dursley!Reader would have totally taught Blaise to play video games. They even go as far as gifting him one of Dudley’s old gaming systems or gameboys that fortunately still works. At first they lended it to him during his stay so they could play together but when the day comes for him to leave back home, the Reader tells him to keep it if he wants. And when I say that Blaise would treasure it, I fucking mean it. That boy would play it all the time back home and his mom probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at it or she just tells him to make sure none of the other purebloods see him with it, not like they’ll know what exactly it is. Even at school, Blaise would find a way to sneak playing on it. Hell, he’d honestly end up playing it out in the open not caring too much about what anyone says or thinks.

I can’t help but imagine Blaise’s reaction to either having used the gameboy so much that it stops working or because it’s an older one it just stops working one day. I could see him kind of freaking out and inwardly panicking at first, like oh shit he broke the first and so far only gift that his darling’s ever given him. He would spend so much time trying to figure how to fix it by hand before he realizes he could just use magic to do something about it. I could even see him reaching out to some of the professors to fix it if he was really desperate enough. Like, I imagine him just laying it in front of Snape one day after class and neither of them saying anything, only having a conversation with looks before Snape sighs and takes it, later returning it completely fixed to Blaise in the common room or the next time he’s in potions class.

[marauderverse]

With Love// F.W x Reader pt.4

Summary: Y/n Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive hates her life. That was, of course, until the summer before grade 9, after an oddly charming redhead and his brothers helped her cousin escape. it was probably a good thing he forgot to return that key.

word count: 1.7k

The letter came one June afternoon.  

Y/n was on her way back from school, and her brother running off with his friends to do god knows what. 

Her father was at work, and her mother was out getting groceries. 

She had the house to herself and couldn’t have been more elated. 

A light tapping on the widow by the kitchen sink alerted her to the barn owl. 

She stood up, making her way over and tentatively taking the letter from its beak. 

Dursley family

Number 4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

She turned the letter over; sure, this was again a letter explaining what Hyginks Harry had gotten himself into this month. 

To her surprise, it was an invitation. 

Dursley Family,

You have been cordially invited to spectate the third and final task of the 1994/95 Triwizard Tournament. 

If you are to accept this invitation, we expect your owl no later than June 20th.

A representative will escort you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at 11:30 am on June 24th.

We eagerly await your reply.

Yours sincerely

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

She grinned as she read the letter. She turned to the owl that was still perched on the window sill. 

“Can you just wait a moment?” She asked the owl; it simply blinked at her with its large eyes. 

She ran up to her room, grabbing a pen, paper and the owl treats from her room. 

She stopped at her kitchen table, quickly scribbling down a reply. 

Dear Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

I would be delighted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to spectate the 1994/95 Triwizard tournament.

The rest of my family will not be in attendance. 

Yours Sincerely

Y/n Dursley

Harry’s Favourite Cousin

She folded the paper in half. 

She gave the owl a treat before handing it the letter and watching it fly off into the evening sky. 

She grinned, excitement bubbling in her chest at the prospect of being able to see the magic school. She, a muggle (Which Harry would often call her to annoy her), surely this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 

Her spirits were high all evening; even her mother's nagging couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. 

“Why are you so happy?” Dudley had asked rather loudly. 

y/n shrugged. 

“It’s nothing, and even if it were, I wouldn’t tell you because you would just spoil it,” she shot back. 

“I would not,” he protested, face scrunching up and beginning to turn red. 

“Yes, you would; you always do. Remember my year four violin recital? I was so excited to show Mum and Dad what I had been working on, and the night before, you threw a tantrum because you didn’t want to go, and I had to miss my own recital,” she explained.

“I did not!” he was beginning to sound like an overgrown baby. 

“Or what about when I was thirteen? And I was having my friends stay the night for my birthday, and you didn’t want them in the house because you wanted to play your video games in peace, so you screamed and cried until I had to cancel my birthday,” she retorted. 

Dudley was on the verge of another one of his tantrums; she could feel it. His face was red as a tomato, and he breathed heavier than normal. 

“So no, Dudley, I’m not going to tell you why I’m so happy tonight,” 

“Mum!” Dudley wailed, throwing himself onto the ground.

Three seconds flat, and their mother was already by his side. 

“What’s wrong, duddies?” She cooed. 

“Y/n’s tormenting me,” he fake bawled. 

She turned her attention to her daughter. 

“What have I said about bullying your brother Y/n? You’re sixteen now; this is completely unacceptable behaviour,” She screeched. 

Y/n shrugged, turning around to make her way up the steps. 

“I ought to ask the Weasley twins for more of those magical toffees,” She said loudly enough for her brother to hear. 

She grinned at the genuine scream of terror he let out at her words. 

She didn’t have to wait long for a reply from the deputy headmistress. 

It was the Saturday of the same week the letter had initially arrived. This time it was delivered directly to her. 

Y/n Dursley 

First Room to the Left

Second floor 

Number 4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Dear Miss Dursley,

We appreciate your timely reply. 

Due to the nature of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it is pertinent that a witch or wizard must escort all Muggle Family Members. 

A representative will arrive at precisely 11:15 a.m on the 24th of June and escort you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where you will be able to spectate the third and final task of the 1994/95 Triwizard tournament. 

If you have any questions or further enquiries, please don’t hesitate to contact me. 

Yours sincerely

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

She grinned at the letter in her hands, an excitement she hadn’t felt before making its way to the surface. 

She couldn’t help the slight squeal of excitement from her lips. 

It seemed the morning of June 24th couldn’t come fast enough. 

She hadn’t told her parents what was happening, fearing they would lock her away in her room or something just as horrible. 

By some good fortune, everyone in her household was out that Friday.

Her father was at work, her brother at school and her mother was out with her friends for brunch. 

Three loud knocks echoed through the silent house. 

Y/n jumped up from the couch, swinging the door open. 

“Hello Y/n,” 

She was slightly taken aback by the man standing before her, but a wide grin cracked across her face. 

“Mr Weasley, it’s good to see you. I take it you’re my escort to Hogwarts?” She questioned. 

Mr Weasley nodded his head. 

“That’s right when McGonnagll told me you wanted to watch Harry in the last trial, I immediately volunteered myself.” 

She smiled bashfully at him. 

Stepping out into the warm June morning, she clutched the bouquet of flowers she got her cousin, Mr Weasley instructed her to grip his arm tightly and not let go. 

Hesitantly she did as she was told. 

In less than five seconds, they were standing in a little village she did not recognise, considerably more nauseous than she was a moment ago. 

“What the hell was that?” She asked, willing herself not to throw up. 

Mr Weasley let out an amused laugh.

“Sorry, I often forget Muggles aren’t used to magical travel,”

Y/n took a second, dropping the bouquet to the ground and inhaling deeply, placing her hands on her knees.

“Are you alright?” He asked, now slightly concerned for the girl. 

She dry heaved a few times, willing herself not to throw up in front of Mr. Weasley. Eventually, the bout of nausea left, and she could stand up straight once more. Collecting the flowers she had thrown aside.

“Okay, we are all good to go,” She smiled. 

Mr. Weasley was still wearing a concerned expression, but he nodded in understanding.

"Sorry about that. Apparition can be a bit disorienting for those who aren't used to it. But you handled it well," he said with a friendly smile.

Y/n chuckled nervously, "Yeah, well, it was definitely unexpected."

As they walked towards the magical carriages that would take them to Hogwarts, Y/n couldn't contain her excitement. The whole wizarding world was still a mystery to her, and she was eager to learn more.

“What's it like?” She began, “I ask Harry all the time but he won’t tell me anything interesting, he mostly just talks about quidditch and his classes and stuff. Are there any rules I should know about?"

As they settled into one of the carriages, Y/n couldn't help but be curious about Mr. Weasley's world. "And what about the Ministry of Magic? How does it work? Are there laws that everyone must follow?"

Mr. Weasley nodded, happy to elaborate. "Yes, indeed. The Ministry of Magic oversees magical law in Britain. We have various departments, such as the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, etc. Laws ensure the proper use of magic and protect the magical and non-magical communities."

Y/n absorbed the information, fascinated by the intricacies of the wizarding world. As they continued their conversation, Mr Weasley expressed his interest in the Muggle world.

Before she even knew it they had stopped; Mr. Weasley stepped out first and helped y/n down from the carriage. 

She turned, excitement bubbling in her chest. This was it; she was finally going to see the place Harry held so dear to his heart. The place she had envisioned for four years. 

But to her dismay, ruins stood staring back at her. It was a dilapidated building that was unfit for anyone to inhabit, never the less than 300 witches and wizards from across the country. 

“Uhm, Mr. Weasley?” She began jogging to catch up to him as she realised he had begun walking up the path towards the ruins. “Are we in the right place?”

Mr. Weasley stopped and turned to look at the girl, a look of confusion on his face. 

“Yes, of course we are, my dear,” he turned back and continued to walk. 

y/n hesitated for a moment. 

“It’s just, is this like a trick or something?” she couldn’t help the question. 

Mr. Weasley paused for a second, a look of realisation dawning on his face. 

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot,” Turning to look back at the ruins “, There are enchantments and all sorts of muggle-repelling charms put in place, you know, to keep from prying eyes. But I assure you, my dear, the castle is here, and once we are past those, you'll be able to see it as if you were a witch yourself.”

Excitement rose in her chest at those words. She was here; she was going to see it. 

One moment, it was ruins; the next, it was a magnificent and imposing castle. 

y/n was breathless. 

Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore she could feel the magic around her.

tagged : @aki-ham @ashdoctor