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lqveharrington · 3 months ago

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hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

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ohgodwhatdoiputhere · 5 months ago

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hc that barty has really bad eyesight but he refuses to wear glasses because "it ruins his look"

#marauders #dead gay wizards #barty crouch jr #sirius black #jegulus #regulus black #wolfstar #rosekiller #evan rosier #james potter #headcanon #harry potter marauders #marauders era #ravenclaw barty #barty headcanon

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riddlesrizzler · 28 days ago

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𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙤 𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙭 𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙬! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

headcanons of mattheo with a ravenclaw! reader

warnings: mattheo being a simp, mentions taking off clothing, smut, oral (male receiving), mentions of brattiness and brat taming.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

⟡ ݁₊ . love at first sight

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵

⟡ ݁₊ .Mattheo had been moving through the narrow hallway of the Hogwarts Express as he was in search of the snack cart, two gold galleons held tightly in his fist as he rolls his eyes at a group of second years that push by.

⟡ ݁₊ .He was getting ready to give up on finding the cart that held the delicious treats. Convinced that it was too far down the train for him to go and venture to, but when he turned to head back to his compartment, he swears all time had stopped around him.

⟡ ݁₊ .In the compartment in front of him held three people. One being Luna Lovegood who had The Qibbler sprawled out in front of her. Ginny Weasley, who was preoccupied with turning her hair back to normal after one of the Weasley twins had given her a chocolate frog that was infused with some sort of potion to change her hair from red to green.

⟡ ݁₊ .And then, there was you. Pressed against the window that displayed the Scottish countryside, with the white, chunky sweater which made you look beautiful, and a large book of sorts settled in between your two delicate hands. Completely engrossed in whatever words were written in the parchment.

⟡ ݁₊ .He had never felt this sort of attraction before. Mattheo knew he was good looking, despite his last name, girls did not hide the dreamy expressions when he walked by. But out of all of the pretty girls that he had ever encountered, none of them seemed to hold a candle to the witch who didn't even notice he was there.

⟡ ݁₊ .It was only when Ginny saw that Mattheo was staring into the compartment, when he realized what he was doing. He couldn't hear what Ginny was saying, but based on the scowl on her face, he knew it couldn't be good.

⟡ ݁₊ .But whatever it was, was enough to gain the attention from your book as you looked up to meet the gaze of the slytherin boy who stood outside of the train compartment. Ginny could have called him every bad word in the book, but he didn't care, all that he care about was that you saw him.

⟡ ݁₊ .He had made it his mission to talk to you once he arrived to school. He was determined to find out every little detail about you without it seeming like he was stalking you. By the third week of classes, Mattheo had your schedule memorized, you seating placements documented, and the paths that you took engrained into his brain.

⟡ ݁₊ .It had been a month at this point since Mattheo had first seen you on the train. It was now four o'clock on a Thursday, meaning you would be at your usual spot in the library. Probably curled up with another one of those large books you toted around or biting your lip as you worked on an assignment.

⟡ ݁₊ .Mattheo held himself with determination, he was finally going to talk to you. He carefully made his way across the library, his footsteps purposeful yet quiet as though he was trying not to scare a baby deer. When he finally made it to your table, you didn't look up. Too engrossed in whatever you were reading, so he cleared his throat.

⟡ ݁₊ .He had almost forgotten why he had come over here in the first place as you looked up at him with your big, curious eyes. Taking a moment to recompose himself before he made a fool of himself in front of this divine creature, he had made up some excuse that he needed a tutor.

⟡ ݁₊ . "um, I was actually wondering if you could help me in Astronomy. I keep getting my constellations confused."

⟡ ݁₊ .Mattheo didn't really need help in astronomy but he was knew it was your favorite subject (he had to thank blaise for asking luna). You were quiet with your answer, as if you words were a source that had limitations but yet you still said yes.

⟡ ݁₊ .For your first tutoring session, Mattheo had shown up an hour early due to his nerves, but when you made your way through the opening of the astronomy tower adorned in a dark blue sweater, he felt his nerves start to steady. As if just your presence enough was to ground him back to earth.

⟡ ݁₊ .Mattheo realized that you mainly kept to yourself. Your words were never an accident, every sentence was carefully thought out, every vowel had some sort of meaning. You words were a gift whenever you opened your soft lips, a gift that Mattheo would give anything to hear more of.

⟡ ݁₊ .By the third session, you had started to open up a little more to the slytherin boy. Talking about your day as you lean close enough to him to where your shoulders touch, making sure your astronomy book was placed between both of you.

⟡ ݁₊ .Mattheo was relishing on his progress every time you seemed to open up more. Every time that you smiled that sweet smile, or when you laugh at his stupid jokes, the ones that he spent all day preparing hoping they would make that angelic sound come from your mouth, he felt like he was getting to see the real you.

⟡ ݁₊ .By the tenth session, Mattheo had finally decided to confess his feelings for you. He took it slow that night, moving closer to you as the two of you sat on the bench. Listening to you ramble about one of the constellations that he should have been paying attention to, but he was too captivated by the stars that sparkled in your eyes whenever you got excited. He placed his hand on your cheek to make you turn to look at him, a soft smile of adoration gracing his lips.

⟡ ݁₊ ." there's no one like you nova"

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱

⟡ ݁₊ .Throughout the relationship, the nickname, nova, stuck like glue. Mattheo claimed it was because you were brighter than any lame star in the sky.

⟡ ݁₊ .Mattheo was sure to take the relationship thing slow with you after you had admitted that you had never been in a relationship before. Sure, you had kissed Ron Weasley during a game of spin the bottle your second year and you had lost your virginity to a fellow ravenclaw when you had decided that you wanted to get it over with, but you had never dated.

⟡ ݁₊ .Mattheo wanted to prove how good a boyfriend he could be. He could be seen in the mornings carrying your books that you insisted you needed. Holding doors open for you, his hand around your waist, giving you a wink across the room when a professor would announce you had gotten the highest grade on an assignment.

⟡ ݁₊ ."that's my smart girl, i'm so proud of you nova."

⟡ ݁₊ . dates consisted of letting you read while he played with your hair for hours or taking you to the bookstore in Hogsmeade and letting you run loose through the aisles of old, enchanted texts that only you could love.

⟡ ݁₊ .The longer the two of you dated, the more he found out about you as your walls seemed to disappear. He learned that you hated peas because they reminded you of fish eggs, or that your feet were always cold so that's why you wore fuzzy socks, or how you took your coffee with equal parts coffee and the other half creamer as you claim that it gives you an energy burst with the caffeine and sugar rush.

⟡ ݁₊ ."i love you nova, but your coffee experiment is diabolical."

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹

⟡ ݁₊ .Almost with how Mattheo had broken down your walls when it came to getting to know you, he realized he was going to have to take the same approach when it came to being intimate.

⟡ ݁₊ .Every time his hands slipped under your shirt during a make out session or he started to kiss your neck, you would immediately shy away from his touch. He could see your brain overthinking every little step, the gears cranking behind your eyes.

⟡ ݁₊ .He had made sure that you actually wanted to do this, and that you weren't doing this just to please him. You reassured him that you did want this but you didn't want to mess anything up. You were terrified that if you messed up, the one person who had gotten to see the real you would leave. Of course that would never happen, Mattheo would happily say wedding vows with you now, but besides the point, he wanted to make you feel comfortable.

⟡ ݁₊ .The next time you and Mattheo had found yourselves in a steamy makeout session, he carefully laid you on the bed as he guided your hands over his to take off his clothes. When he was finally bare, you gave him a nod of approval for him to take your clothes off.

⟡ ݁₊ . "let me see you nova, i want to see what a fallen star looks like."

⟡ ݁₊ .The more you and Mattheo had sex, the more you opened up, just like he thought you would. Mattheo didn't rush you, he didn't need to as he felt like each moment he got with you was some sort of treasure.

⟡ ݁₊ .Eventually, you found yourself being quite the brat. Growing more confident with your body and your words over time. Though Mattheo didn't mind the brat that came out of you every so often. Gods he thought it was the hottest thing in the world when you talked back, because not only did it mean that you felt comfortable and safe with him, it also meant that he could put you in your place, something you both enjoyed.

⟡ ݁₊ ."not so bratty any more with my dick in your mouth, huh? that's it nova, such a good girl, even with your bad attitude."

⟡ ݁₊ .Although you had captured Mattheo's heart from the moment that he saw you on that train ride, he had completely changed your life. Opening you up in ways that you could have never imagined (dirty and not dirty). You could not fathom life without the curly haired slytherin who still tells bad jokes, and he couldn't imagine his life without his star.

⟡ ݁₊ ."every night, i look up at the sky and remember that no matter how dark the world gets, i have you- my nova, my brightest light. i don't just love you- i need you, i need you like the night needs its stars. without you, i'd be lost in the void."

#mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #my works #mattheo x oc #mattheo imagine #mattheo fluff #headcanon #mattheo!headcanon #ravenclaw #ravenclaw reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin aesthetic #harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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deadsnakey · 7 months ago

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𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 —> 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄˚ᡴꪫ

⋆.˚ ୨ :★: ୧ fluff ೀ Headcanons. . .ᐟ 0.2k words 𔓐𑇓 ┈─★

꒰ ★ ᧔ ⑅ ᧓ ★ ꒱

જ⁀➴ remembers all of your orders and all your favorite snacks, drinks, food, etc. he wants to make sure to always make you happy.

જ⁀➴ main love language being acts of service and quality time. Loves soaking up your presence and just being near you. He doesn't mind doing things for you either.

જ⁀➴ always speaks Italian when upset, angry, yelling. Probably teaches you a good amount of Italian so y'all can say wtvr and shit talk abt someone right in front of them.

જ⁀➴ smoking sessions together unless you dont smoke; won't smoke around you if you have asthma, etc.

જ⁀➴ a lot of forehead kisses.

જ⁀➴ loves buying you stuff he thinks you'd like or know you'd like.

જ⁀➴ tbh he loves seeing you happy so gifting you things is something he's more then happy to do so don't worry about doing anything in return, he's not expecting anything in return.

જ⁀➴ loves it if you get your nails done, thinks they're also so gorgeous on you and will gladly send you money for it.

જ⁀➴ matching bracelets because you wanted too.

જ⁀➴ he's so whipped for you, same with mattheo, you have to know him in order for him to open up to you and genuinely see he's such a sweet guy and has good intentions.

જ⁀➴ very soft for you, huge soft spot only for you tbh and will admit it when his friends tease him about it, he ain't ashamed of loving his girl.

જ⁀➴ if he hears you complaining that you're running out on something or noticed you are, he'll casually just get you more of it and hand it to you like it was nothing.

જ⁀➴ like bae....that perfume was limited addition and $689 wdym?!?

જ⁀➴ will bake for you!!!! loves taking care of you and helping you, really. it makes him feel wanted especially when you come to him first.

જ⁀➴ shares his things with you, he doesn't mind sharing with you, only you. belongings or food.

A/n the most I could do considering I have very little motivation rn.

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rottenherbs · 17 days ago

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Love Within the Forest

Pairing: F.W x Ravenclaw! Reader Summary: A rule-following Ravenclaw finds herself swept up in Fred Weasley’s spontaneous adventure into the Forbidden Forest, where laughter, rain, and a little hand-holding lead to something unexpectedly magical. W/C: 3.5k A/N: CUTEEE. I almost did like a secret picnic in the Forrest but this seemed more on a whim romantic — i apologize for my love and over use of italics [masterlist] Much love, Saige

Fred Weasley had a habit of sneaking into your life like a well-placed prank—unexpected, disarming, and impossible to ignore.

It started with small things. A teasing comment as he passed you in the corridors. A stolen seat beside you in the Great Hall. A ridiculous joke whispered in the middle of class, just to see if he could get you to laugh.

At first, you had rolled your eyes at his antics, dismissing them as nothing more than Fred being Fred. But then the teasing had become something softer. The stolen seats turned into casual conversations that stretched on longer than they should. And the jokes? Well, they still made you roll your eyes—but they also made you smile.

You weren’t sure when the lines blurred between friendship and something else, but they had. And lately, you found yourself waiting for those moments, for the warmth in his gaze, for the way his fingers would brush against yours just a little longer than necessary.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

But Fred had other ideas.

---

“You know, love, I think you secretly like me.”

You glance up from your book, unimpressed. Fred is sprawled across the library table in front of you, completely unbothered by the glares from Madam Pince. His tie is loose, his sleeves pushed up, and his usual grin is firmly in place.

You raise an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you haven’t hexed me for interrupting your studying. That’s got to count for something.”

You smirk, closing your book with deliberate slowness. “Maybe I’m just plotting something worse than a hex.”

Fred gasps, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Cruel! And here I thought we had something special.”

You shake your head, but the smile playing at your lips betrays you. “Fred, why are you really here?”

His expression shifts, just slightly—still playful, but there’s something else beneath it now. Something softer.

“I think you need a break.”

You huff. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

You cross your arms, and he leans in, resting his chin in his hand as he studies you. “You know, for someone so brilliant, you’re absolute rubbish at having fun.”

You roll your eyes. “Not this again.”

“Yes, this again.” He grins. “And lucky for you, I’ve decided to take on the noble mission of teaching you.”

You narrow your eyes, but he just wiggles his eyebrows.

Then, as if the universe is conspiring with him, a distant rumble of thunder shakes the castle walls. The rain outside begins to pick up, a steady drumming against the windows.

Fred glances at the storm, then back at you, and his smirk widens.

“Perfect.”

You give him a wary look. “Perfect for what?”

“For a bit of living.”

Before you can protest, he’s on his feet, offering his hand.

You hesitate.

Fred watches you closely, the usual mischief in his eyes tempered by something gentler. “Trust me?”

And somehow, against all logic—

You do.

With a sigh, you place your hand in his.

Fred doesn’t hesitate.

His fingers wrap around yours, warm and solid, and then you’re running.

Fred leads you through the castle with a determined kind of excitement, his grip firm but not forceful. Every time you hesitate, his thumb brushes absentmindedly over the back of your hand, like a silent reassurance that you can trust him.

And the worst part? It works.

The storm rages outside, the rain pounding against the tall windows as lightning streaks across the sky. You pass more students in the corridors, their heads turning as Fred pulls you along, grinning like a man on a mission.

“Everyone is staring,” you murmur, trying to ignore the way your face feels like it’s on fire.

Fred glances over his shoulder, completely unfazed. “That’s because you’re holding my hand, love.”

Your breath catches. He says it so casually, like it’s just a simple fact, like it doesn’t mean anything. But it does—at least to you. And maybe, maybe to him, too.

Before you can think too much about it, Fred slows to a stop, turning to face you. His hair is already a little damp from the misty air, the ends curling slightly, and there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, still holding your hand. “Time for a shortcut.”

You barely have time to ask what he means before he’s pulling you into a dimly lit passageway behind a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The space is narrow, the walls closing in slightly as the two of you squeeze through.

It would be fine.

Really, it would.

Except that you’re still holding hands, and suddenly, you’re pressed closer than you have ever been to Fred Weasley.

You can feel the warmth of him even through your damp robes, the scent of something undeniably *him*—cinnamon, something sweet, something warm—wrapping around you. Your heart stumbles over itself as you glance up, only to realize he’s already looking at you.

Fred’s smirk softens just slightly, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s memorizing something.

“Blushing already?” he teases, voice quieter now, lower.

You scoff, though it lacks any real conviction. “It’s warm in here.”

Fred chuckles, but he doesn’t call you out on the lie. Instead, his free hand comes up, his knuckles brushing against your cheek—so light, so fleeting, you almost think you imagined it.

Your breath catches.

And then—

“We’re here,” he says, stepping back like nothing happened, like he didn’t just steal the air from your lungs.

The passage opens into a small tower landing, the wind howling through the stone archways. You step forward, blinking against the sudden brightness as lightning flashes across the sky. The storm is alive up here, the rain sweeping across the open space, the castle grounds stretching endlessly below.

Fred turns to you, eyes shining. “Told you it was the best place to watch a storm.”

You shake your head, but you can’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, stepping closer, his voice dipping into something almost dangerous, “you’re still here.”

You don’t know who moves first—if he leans in or if you do. But suddenly, you’re close again, and the space between you is so small it barely exists.

The rain starts to blow in through the arches, dampening your robes, catching in your hair. You shiver slightly, and Fred immediately shrugs off his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders without a second thought.

“Can’t have you freezing, now, can we?” he murmurs, fingers lingering at your collar.

You swallow hard, your hands clutching the edges of the cloak to keep them from shaking. “Fred—”

Another crack of thunder shakes the tower.

And then, before you can think, before you can second-guess—

Fred grabs your hand again.

“Come on.”

This time, he doesn’t run.

He sprints.

You barely have a moment to react before you’re being pulled into the rain, the icy drops soaking through your clothes as Fred laughs—a loud, joyful sound that echoes through the open air.

You gasp at the cold, but Fred just spins you, hands gripping yours, eyes locked onto you like you’re the best part of the storm.

Your hair clings to your face, rain dripping down your cheeks, but you don’t care.

Because you’re laughing.

You’re laughing, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this alive.

Fred’s eyes soften as he watches you, his hands still wrapped around yours. “That’s the look I was hoping for.”

You blink up at him, breathless. “What look?”

“Like you just found magic outside of books.”

Your heart stumbles over itself. The storm rages on around you, but all you can hear is him.

Before you can think too hard about it, before fear can creep in—

You squeeze his hands.

And Fred Weasley grins like he’s won something.

Fred’s grip tightens around yours as he pulls you down the winding staircase, out of the tower, and into the open air. The cold air rushes against your damp skin, the rain pouring heavier now, drenching you both completely. But instead of shivering, instead of protesting, you laugh.

It bubbles out of you, unfiltered and raw, carried away by the wind.

Fred looks over at you, his eyes crinkling with something soft, something undeniably fond. “See?” he shouts over the storm. “Not so bad, is it?”

You shake your head, rain streaming down your face. “It’s mad!”

“Exactly!” He grins, tugging you along the slick grass, dodging puddles with an ease that only comes from years of mischief. “What’s the point of living if you don’t go a little mad every once in a while?”

You don’t have an answer. Not because you don’t want one, but because—for the first time in your life—you’re starting to think he’s right.

The castle looms behind you, warm and golden in contrast to the storm. But Fred doesn’t slow. Instead, he glances sideways at you, mischief gleaming in his rain-soaked lashes.

“If you really want an adventure,” he calls, breathless, “we could take this a step further.”

You narrow your eyes at him, still running. “What are you planning?”

His smirk is positively dangerous.

And then you see where he’s leading you.

The Forbidden Forest.

Your heart lurches as the shadowy treeline comes into view, dark and swaying under the weight of the storm. The rain makes it look even more foreboding, the trees looming like silent sentinels.

Fred slows slightly, still gripping your hand, still grinning. “What do you say?” he asks, voice playful but laced with something else—something daring. “You wanted an adventure, didn’t you?”

You skid to a stop just before the edge of the trees, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. The rain hammers against the leaves, dripping heavily from the branches, and for a long moment, all you can do is stare into the darkness beyond.

Fred steps closer, watching you carefully, his thumb idly brushing against your hand. “We don’t have to,” he says, and for the first time tonight, there’s no teasing in his voice—just quiet reassurance.

You swallow hard, heart hammering.

Every instinct in you, every rule-following, well-behaved part of your mind is screaming no.

But then you look at Fred.

He’s standing there, soaked to the bone, eyes bright with something wild and alive. His hand is warm in yours despite the rain, steady despite the chaos.

And maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe it’s just him—but something inside you shifts.

You exhale, grip tightening slightly. “You’ll keep me safe?”

Fred’s expression softens, the storm forgotten between you. “Always.”

And just like that, the last of your hesitation melts away.

With one final glance at the castle—one final moment of who you were—you take a step forward.

And Fred Weasley, grinning like you’ve just given him the best gift in the world, pulls you into the dark.

————

The moment you step past the tree line, the storm seems to soften. The thick canopy above catches most of the rain, breaking it into light drips that patter against the leaves. The forest is alive, breathing with the scent of damp earth and fresh rain.

Fred still holds your hand, his fingers warm despite the chill, though now his grip is looser, more relaxed. He watches you out of the corner of his eye, as if waiting for any sign of hesitation.

But to your own surprise—you’re not hesitating at all.

It’s different here. The wild hum of the storm fades into something gentler, something almost magical.

You pause for a moment, tilting your head up. The rain clings to the branches in delicate beads, dripping slowly onto moss-covered ground. Everything glows, like the whole forest is wrapped in glass. Even the air feels clearer, crisper.

Fred lets out a low whistle beside you. “Blimey,” he murmurs. “Would you look at that?”

You follow his gaze.

The trees, ancient and tall, shimmer under the weight of the fading storm. Droplets cling to every leaf, reflecting the soft midday light like tiny jewels. Spiderwebs between branches hold dewdrops like strings of diamonds, and the ground is covered in small puddles, each one rippling as the last few raindrops fall.

It’s breathtaking.

For a long moment, neither of you say anything. The Forbidden Forest has never felt like this before—no longer a place of whispered warnings and forbidden dangers, but something alive. Something untouched, something waiting.

Fred exhales beside you, running a hand through his dripping hair. “Alright,” he says, “I might have only brought us here for a laugh, but—” He gestures vaguely at the glistening trees, the glowing mist that still clings to the ground. “—I think we just walked straight into a bloody fairytale.”

You smile, shaking your head. “Hardly seems forbidden when it looks like this.”

He hums in agreement, then looks at you with that dangerous glint in his eye again. “Think we should keep going?”

You hesitate, but not because you’re afraid. The part of you that would have insisted on turning back is quiet now, overwhelmed by the beauty around you.

Fred tilts his head, watching you carefully. “No pressure, love. We can head back if you want.”

You bite your lip, looking between him and the path ahead.

Then, feeling bold, you lift your chin. “Just a little further.”

Fred’s grin is instant, full of delight. “Merlin, I knew there was an adventurer in you somewhere.”

He takes your hand again—not pulling this time, just holding—and together, you step deeper into the glowing forest.

————

The deeper you go, the quieter everything becomes. Not eerily so—just peaceful, like the world is holding its breath. The rain has nearly stopped, leaving only the occasional drop slipping from leaf to leaf before landing softly on the forest floor.

Fred walks beside you now instead of leading, his hand still wrapped around yours, warm and steady. He swings your hands slightly as you walk, like this is all perfectly normal, like this isn’t the first time you’ve willingly stepped into the unknown with him.

“Alright, tell me the truth,” he says, breaking the silence. “You’re not actually a rule-following, library-dwelling Ravenclaw, are you? You’ve been secretly waiting for me to drag you into trouble all this time.”

You scoff, but you’re smiling. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He quirks an eyebrow, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Because you don’t look like someone regretting a single thing right now.”

You don’t. You know you don’t.

Fred watches you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, and Merlin, does he know what he’s doing. He slows his pace slightly, giving you more space to take it all in. The forest is still glowing with the remnants of the storm, the mist clinging to the air, the trees standing tall like they’ve been waiting for you both to come along.

You turn in a slow circle, taking in every shimmering detail. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this,” you admit, voice quieter now.

Fred hums, tilting his head as he studies you. “That’s a shame.”

You glance at him, brow furrowing. “Why?”

“Because,” he says, softer now, “you should see more things that make you look like this.”

Your breath catches.

You don’t even know what you look like, but the way he says it—the way he’s looking at you—makes your pulse stutter. His eyes are warmer than they’ve ever been, no teasing smirk, no mischievous glint. Just genuine—like he means it, like he wants this for you.

You turn away before your face can betray you, pretending to focus on the trail ahead.

Fred doesn’t let go of your hand.

The forest shifts as you walk, the path widening slightly. A small clearing opens up ahead, bathed in soft golden light filtering through the branches. There’s an old fallen log near the center, its surface covered in moss, and a patch of tiny blue flowers blooming in the damp earth beside it.

Fred tugs you toward it. “Here,” he says, sitting on the log and patting the space beside him.

You hesitate—not because you don’t *want* to, but because something about this moment feels… different.

Not reckless. Not chaotic. Just *yours*.

You lower yourself onto the log, and for a while, neither of you speak. The quiet hum of the forest fills the space between you—the drip of water onto leaves, the distant rustle of branches shifting in the breeze.

Fred leans back on his hands, tilting his face up to the canopy above. “You know,” he muses, “if someone had told me this morning that I’d be sitting in the Forbidden Forest in the rain with you, I’d have called them mad.”

You scoff, nudging his knee with yours. “I could say the same. You do know I planned to spend my evening studying, right?”

He grins, turning his head to face you. “Yeah, well. Look at you now.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t fight your smile.

Fred watches you for a moment longer, then shifts slightly, resting his elbow on his knee as he leans closer. “So,” he says, “what do you reckon? Worth breaking the rules for?”

You exhale, looking around again at the glistening trees, the dew-covered flowers, the quiet magic in the air.

Then, without hesitation—

“Yes.”

Fred’s grin is slow, spreading across his face like a sunrise. He lifts your joined hands between you, brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a way that makes your heart *trip* over itself.

“Well, then,” he murmurs, voice soft and warm. “Guess I’ll have to find more rules for you to break.”

And for the first time in your life—

You want him too.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, hands braced against the log as you let yourself breathe—really breathe—in this quiet, enchanted world. The rain has nearly stopped now, leaving behind only glistening leaves and the scent of damp earth. The storm has passed, but something lingers in its wake.

Something warm. Something new.

You turn to Fred, who’s still watching you with that insufferably pleased expression, like he’s just won a bet you didn’t even know you made. He hasn’t let go of your hand, and now that you’ve noticed, you have no intention of letting it slip away.

Instead, you shift, adjusting your grip so your fingers lace more deliberately through his. His eyebrows lift slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it—but he doesn’t protest. If anything, his grip tightens just a bit, like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind.

You won’t.

“Alright, Weasley,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze before standing. “I suppose we should start heading back before someone sends a search party.”

Fred groans dramatically but rises to his feet, tugging you a little closer in the process. “Fine,” he sighs, “but only because I do have a bit of an appetite for supper.”

You hum, turning with him as you both start back toward the castle. The walk is easier now, the fear of the unknown having melted away into something familiar, something almost comfortable.

Your fingers are still entwined, swinging slightly between you as you navigate the damp trail. The air feels lighter, the quiet hum of the forest wrapping around you like an old friend.

Then, with a sideways glance and a smirk creeping onto your lips, you murmur, “Seems like you’ve wanted to hold my hand this whole time.”

Fred stumbles.

It’s barely noticeable, but you notice. His step falters for just a second, his grip on your hand momentarily tightening as he turns to you with wide eyes—before narrowing them.

“Oh, now you’re getting cheeky,” he says, recovering quickly, though the corner of his mouth twitches. “Next thing I know, you’ll be pulling me into adventures.”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe.”

Fred slows his steps, looking at you fully now, like he’s re-evaluating everything he thought he knew about you. Then, to your utter delight, he lets out a soft, breathy laugh.

“Merlin’s beard,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I’ve created a monster.”

You grin, feeling something light and warm bloom in your chest. “You love it.”

Fred stops walking entirely, and before you can question it, he tugs you—gently but suddenly—closer. Your breath catches as you find yourself inches from him, your joined hands now pressed between you.

His voice is softer now, his usual mischief tempered with something deeper. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I really think I do.”

For a moment, you can’t breathe.

Then, before you can process what’s happening, Fred steps back, resuming your walk as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t just send your heart into an absolute tailspin.

You exhale, regaining your footing, and after a beat, you tighten your grip on his hand, matching his pace.

The castle lights are glowing in the distance, warm and inviting. Supper is waiting. The world is returning to normal.

But you?

You’re not sure you want things to go back to normal.

Not now.

Not when you’ve just discovered a whole different kind of magic—one that has nothing to do with books or spells.

And everything to do with Fred Weasley.

(Next part)

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eeriepromis · 21 days ago

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Hogwarts House Sorting: LaDs Edition (and why Caleb isn't who you think he is)

Remember: Hogwarts houses aren’t restrictive boxes. Each person, real or fictional, carries traits from all houses. What determines sorting is not only personality but core values and priorities. This analysis takes into account that nice Slytherins and gentle Gryffindors exist, breaking stereotypes to portray a nuanced, realistic perspective. Let me know your thoughts and your own house headcanons!

Xavier – Primary: Gryffindor | Secondary: Slytherin

Though Xavier outwardly appears gentle and calm, his behavior aligns with core Gryffindor traits: courage, impulsivity, and rebelliousness against injustice. He's not merely courageous out of circumstance; he actively seeks out risks. His creation of the flashy alter-ego "Lumiere" showcases his bravery - and perhaps recklessness - perfectly embodying Gryffindor's inclination toward flashy acts of heroism. His decision to rebel against his royal lineage in Philos, openly defying his father the king who sacrificed innocent lives, further emphasizes his alignment with Gryffindor values - specifically, moral courage. Xavier willingly sacrifices personal safety and stability to fight for what's right and travels back in time, reflecting true Gryffindor spirit. Reasoning for secondary Slytherin: He is sneaky and a little manipulative at times and fully knows what effect his innocent looks have - and uses that to his advantage. You notice this especially during Fluffy Trap. Somehow he is always a few steps ahead of MC and tricks her!

Positive: Courageous, protective, strong moral compass, heroic.

Negative: Reckless, impulsive, stubborn, often acts without foresight.

Zayne – Primary: Ravenclaw | Secondary: Hufflepuff

Zayne's core value truly lies in his relentless pursuit of knowledge and understanding. Importantly, intelligence alone doesn't warrant a Ravenclaw placement - it's the priority given to knowledge and wisdom that defines them. Zayne consistently demonstrates that acquiring knowledge - medical or metaphysical - isn't merely practical for him; it's essential to who he is and what he wants to accomplish (saving MC's life). As the Foreseer and Master of Fate, Zayne’s life revolves around carefully acquired knowledge to make decisions of enormous consequence. His choices are rarely guided by impulse or emotion alone, but always supported by intellectual clarity. His calm, methodical approach underscores his Ravenclaw essence. Reasoning for secondary Hufflepuff: Beneath his logical, stoic exterior, Zayne consistently demonstrates deep-rooted loyalty, compassion, and genuine care. His medical profession and the tireless effort he invests to protect and heal highlight his sincere dedication to the well-being of others. His actions are not driven by glory or recognition, but by quiet, steadfast commitment and genuine empathy.

Positive: Wise, analytical, thoughtful, innovative, responsible.

Negative: Detached emotionally, overly analytical, may appear cold or indifferent.

Rafayel – Primary: Slytherin | Secondary: Ravenclaw

Rafayel strongly aligns with the house of Slytherin through his complex motivations, secrecy, and charm. His playful exterior masks carefully concealed ambitions and plans. His network within the N109 zone and hidden dealings demonstrate his adeptness at navigating complex social dynamics - classic Slytherin traits of cunning and adaptability. His artistic temperament and charisma further illustrate how Slytherins can embody traits often associated with other houses, like creativity and charm, while still prioritizing ambition, resourcefulness, and strategy as their core values. Rafayel exemplifies that Slytherins can have good hearts but choose to show vulnerability selectively, preserving an enigmatic persona. He keeps his cards very close and even MC gets to see them very rarely. Reasoning for secondary Ravenclaw: He’s deeply artistic, driven by a curiosity for truth, meaning, and beauty. These qualities align well with Ravenclaw’s love for learning, creativity, and understanding deeper meanings. His exploration of art as a means to expose societal corruption and his intellectual depth behind each masterpiece clearly display Ravenclaw traits.

Positive: Charismatic, strategic, resourceful, artistic, adaptable.

Negative: Secretive, occasionally manipulative, holds grudges, guarded emotionally.

Sylus – Primary: Slytherin | Secondary: Hufflepuff

Sylus is the epitome of modern, multifaceted Slytherins. Ambition and cunning don’t inherently equate to villainy; Sylus demonstrates Slytherin's core traits positively and negatively. He is deeply ambitious and maintains strategic long-term thinking, always planning steps ahead. His network of connections, meticulous strategies, and hidden plans further highlight his resourcefulness and adaptability - key Slytherin virtues. Yet Sylus also showcases a softer, family-oriented side, demonstrating that Slytherins deeply value loyalty and closeness, particularly within tight-knit circles. He’s fiercely protective of those he genuinely cares for, and despite his outward harshness, this selective loyalty underscores a balanced, nuanced Slytherin personality. Reasoning for secondary Hufflepuff: I can't really tell you why - it's just a feeling. I don't have a lot of his cards, but I did watch some of them on YT. You can tell me in the comments what you think. (this applies to the other LIs too)

Positive: Ambitious, resourceful, strategic, family-oriented, selectively loyal.

Negative: Manipulative, secretive, mistrustful, sometimes morally ambiguous.

Caleb – Primary: Hufflepuff | Secondary: Ravenclaw

Caleb embodies the genuine warmth and humble spirit often overlooked when discussing Hufflepuffs. While traditionally bravery is a Gryffindor trait, Caleb’s bravery is more circumstantial than inherent; life forced him into courageous roles rather than him seeking them out. His core identity is rooted deeply in kindness, gentleness, loyalty, and humility - all quintessential Hufflepuff values. Caleb’s universal kindness, even to those he's not romantically interested in, emphasizes his innate empathy and respect for others. He's beloved by peers not because he's overtly charismatic, but because he's genuinely thoughtful and attentive. He cooks and enjoys food - not for validation or prestige - but for the simple joy of it and to see his loved ones enjoy it, deeply resonating with Hufflepuff’s comfort-oriented nature. His protective behavior towards the MC arises not from a desire to be a hero, but from trauma-induced loyalty and deep-seated love. This fierce loyalty, shaped by childhood trauma, is the hallmark of a Hufflepuff pushed beyond comfort into challenging circumstances. It’s precisely this loyalty and quiet strength that makes Caleb a true Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor. (He is basically Cedric Diggory - just more alive ... barely.) Reasoning for secondary Ravenclaw: He shows great intellectual capacity, strategic thinking, and analytical clarity. He adapts to complicated situations (this is an understatement) using intellect, precision, and careful planning. Caleb attempts to find logical ways to cope and protect even in traumatic circumstances. His genuine curiosity, analytical problem-solving, and sharp observational skills reflect Ravenclaw characteristics beneath his Hufflepuff core.

Positive: Loyal, empathetic, humble, compassionate, steadfast., kind.

Negative: Overly self-sacrificing, can be obsessive, passive-aggressive under stress.

Read about why he isn't a Slytherin further below.

MC – Primary: Gryffindor | Secondary: ???

MC’s Gryffindor traits are unmistakable. At her core, bravery, competition, and the desire for truth and justice guide her actions. She doesn't simply endure challenges; she actively seeks them out, recklessly engaging in dangerous missions and confrontations. Her grief-induced impulsivity and rebelliousness also fit Gryffindor perfectly, as she channels loss and trauma into daring missions without a thorough plan. However, this recklessness is balanced by genuine bravery and a powerful drive to protect and avenge those she loves. Her pursuit of justice - even when dangerous or irrational - is a defining characteristic, making her a Gryffindor through and through.

Positive: Courageous, determined, loyal, passionate about justice.

Negative: Impulsive, stubborn, reckless, tends to leap before looking.

But Caleb is definitely a Slytherin you say?

It makes sense why people would place Caleb into Slytherin based on his Colonel arc. But personally, I see Caleb's "cunning" and manipulation not as inherent character values, but as coping mechanisms shaped by trauma and survival instinct. It's important to distinguish between a person's true core values and the traits they've been forced to develop under extreme circumstances. Caleb’s story is one of deep emotional trauma - losing loved ones, being subjected to invasive experiments, and being manipulated into a position he never truly wanted. He didn’t choose cunning or ambition willingly; rather, those became survival tools in response to severe situations he faced. (it's more like his Ravenclaw side coming to the forefront to help him survive) In his youth, Caleb was naturally kind, humble, and nurturing - classic Hufflepuff traits. He didn't seek power, nor did he find joy in manipulation or secrecy. The Colonel storyline showcases a deeply hurt and scarred person fighting for the little control left in his life, driven primarily by loyalty and protectiveness toward MC. His methods might resemble those traditionally associated with Slytherin, but his motivations remain firmly rooted in loyalty, compassion, and the desire for a peaceful, simple life. Additionally, Hufflepuffs aren't devoid of complexity - they can exhibit cunning, resourcefulness, and determination when their loved ones are threatened. These traits aren't exclusive to Slytherins; what differentiates the houses is the underlying core value. For Caleb, cunning isn't an inherent value; it's a tragic necessity. At his core, he's guided by warmth, empathy, and loyalty - the values of a true Hufflepuff pushed into a darker, harsher reality. So, while Caleb absolutely shows "cunning" and resourcefulness, these traits alone don't define him. They're reactions, not values. At heart, Caleb is still that caring, emotionally intelligent Hufflepuff trying desperately to protect the person he loves most, even if he must walk a morally gray path to do so. Caleb is such a deeply nuanced character. He isn’t embracing cunning because it aligns with his heart - he’s forced into it by circumstances beyond his control. Caleb is essentially walking a tightrope, pretending to be the cold, calculating Colonel that EVER expects him to be (the perfect weapon), precisely because that's the only way he can maintain some small degree of freedom and protect himself (and MC) from their control. The Toring Chip isn't just a physical implant - it's symbolic of the trauma and manipulation he's endured (and is still enduring). Caleb's actions and outward persona reflect not his true nature, but his desperate fight to keep that nature intact beneath the surface. His core Hufflepuff kindness and empathy never disappear; they're hidden behind the mask he must wear to survive. It's a heartbreaking struggle between his authentic self and the identity EVER wants to impose upon him. That’s precisely why calling Caleb a cunning Slytherin overlooks the heart of his character - he isn't ambitious or manipulative by choice, nor does he derive satisfaction or pride from it. He's a victim of cunning, not its master.

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