#slytherin/gryffindor tensions started before the houses were even made

[deadghosy]

（TEDDY）THEODORE NOTT

Teddy, a nickname you call Theodore nott. A Slytherin boy who seemed to have girls hooked on him for his handsome looks and dead eyes. Usually you didn’t see the catch at all. Probably because you’re his best friend. Aside from all that, Theodore is mostly seen around you. Behind you, from your left to your right. Hell even in front of you when talking.

That glint his eyes always appear when you’re talking to him. He always seemed like you were the only person there. And he liked that. He liked how you rant about your days, rant about your hyper fixations. Just anything. Your voice was like music, it helps him focus on the only thing important. You. Right as now Theodore was staring at you from afar. You were talking to your friend. He smiled while wobbling his head a little. God you were so beautiful from afar even, like a renaissance painting.

“Mate, you’re staring at them again..” mattheo said elbowing the tall Slytherin out of his daydream. Theodore pushed Mattheo from him. “I know that…” he says with a grumble. Mattheo snickered, “when are you gonna stop being a wuss and ask them out already. I heard a ravenclaw was gonna ask them out later today.” Theodore narrowed his eyes at his other best friend who seemed to just grin. “You’re lying aren’t you?” He asked looking at the riddle. “Riddle me this Theodore. Do you wanna get to them first, or let some raven do it for you.”

The tension was now evident as Theo shuffled a little on his feet. Mattheo had a serious look while lighting up as cigarette. “Cmon bud, it ain’t that hard.”

But it was.

Theodore couldn’t rest in 2 nights thinking about you getting asked out by another person. The thought of you just being with someone made his stomach bubble and sick. He wanted to just throw these feelings away. What if you don’t like him. He couldn’t do this. He sat up in his bed and pushed his hair back breathing a little heavy. The room was so quiet he could hear his heartbeat. He could even fucking feel it beating. “Mattheo..” Mattheo snores in response. Theodore says the boy’s name a little louder only to hear another snore. “Mattheo!” That’s when Theodore thrown a pillow at him starting the poor riddle awake. “ADVA- WHAT WHAT?? What’s going on mate??” He says disoriented after realizing it was just Theodore who woke him up. “Who’s the ravenclaw going to ask out Y/N??” Mattheo immediately groaned. “I was lying..now let me sleep.” Mattheo immediately and indeed go back to sleep while Theodore sighed in relief. Now he knows he had to do something quick.

So the best thing to do was get you alone with him so he can confess. It was casual for him to be with you when walking to class, so why stop there. As you were talking about your day. You called him that name again. “Teddy.” It seemed to give him an idea as he just smiled listening to you. “So you found her a gift? And you’re gonna confess to her, with the gift?” Mattheo asked looking at a brown teddy that had a Slytherin uniform and a wand. “Sì.” “Dude…this might work.” Mattheo smiled patting the taller Slytherin in his shoulder. “I just hope they like it…” “they will.”

After getting hyped up by his wing man, he walked to your dorm where he knew you were studying. He took a deep in before knocking, patiently waiting he heard footsteps. That’s when the door open for him to see the most beautiful thing to live on earth. You were smiling seeing him. “Teddy!” You hugged him around his neck. His one arm wrapping it self around you as his other was holding the bear. “Heyyy tesoro.” You let him in your dorm. He took every scent that was yours as it was around the dorm of yours. “Omg Theo you would not believe the tea I heard today.” He chuckled sitting on your bed, still hiding the teddy as you ranted about how some girl in the ravenclaw house has started to date some gryffindor. You explained how the relationship was actually toxic in the end. As you moved to sit next to Nott, that’s when he showed you the teddy bear.

“Here…” he says with a slight smile. You immediately smile with a flustered look. “Aww..thank you..I love this.” You looked up to Nott who was staring at you with admiration in his eyes. “Why..did you give me this?” You say with a look in your eyes. “It’s just..I, I always wanted to give you something. You told me how not much people in your life has given you a gift..” your heart started to melt as he continued talking. “And since you call me Teddy at times, why not buy you a teddy.” Immediately Theodore held your hand. “But really, I want to say is I love you.” Your eyes widen, your heart started to pound. You didn’t expect this. You had always fell inlove with Theodore when you two were in first year. But to now hear that he likes you too felt like a dream.

“Every time you talk. It’s like music to me, you make me feel as if I’m home. Your beauty strikes me every time I look at you, my heart…stops. Every single time cause you take my breath away.” He says to you. Your eyes water with a soft smile. You immediately put the teddy bear down and hug Theodore. Theodore froze for a second before hugging you close to his body. It was like you two were pieces of puzzle put together once again. “Thank you for the teddy, teddy.” “No problem amore mio.”

He’s your teddy after all…

[hollowdeath]

I LOVEEEEE YOUR HARRY FICSSSS 😭😭🙏🙏 I literally cannot get enough, your harry fics are amazing ❤️

I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an enemies to lovers type thing with dark!harry, similar to the one you did with "the dark side" fic, but maybe they're rivals due to quittich, yet they both just have tension they don't know gow to handle, so one day they just kind of get so worked up in an argument they start making out. (P.S. I loved the thing you did where harry came from y/n saying he hated him 😫😫 also the part where harry gets turned on from y/n scolding him. If possible, could you incorporate that in there? Thank you smm ❤️❤️) I hope it's not too much trouble ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much for requesting this, i hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: slytherin!harry james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been quidditch rivals ever since you've become captain of the gryffindor team. the tension between you two rises until one of you needs bandaged up by the other, leading to you making a discovery about the school's bad boy that leaves you baffled and insanely curious.

cw: smut!!! angst, mentions of blood, degradation kink, sub!harry x dom!reader, dry humping

word count: 7k

it was your final year at hogwarts and, more importantly to you, it was your last year as the gryffindor quidditch captain. you took major pride in your status as captain, and dedicated a majority of your time outside of class to leading practice, coming up with new plays, and making sure that annoyingly good slytherin captain kept his distance from you and your team.

harry potter was well known at hogwarts years before he even came through. the boy who lived, or whatever. you had never paid him much mind to begin with because you knew he reveled in his own notoriety.

see, potter wasn't just the slytherin quidditch captain. he was the most vile, egotistical, disrespectful wizard you'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with. on top of thinking he was some kind of miracle that blessed everyone's presence wherever he went, he specifically treated you worse than the mud on his shoes. not just because of your status as gryffindor captain, but because you were the only student who wasn't afraid to stand your ground with him. had it not been for quidditch practice 4 times a week and games every friday, you would've done everything you could to keep your distance. however, things didn't work out that way, and you ended up forming a sort of rivalry with the boy that the student body found all too exciting.

it started last year when potter and his friends made a dumb poster and hung it up in every boys bathroom: a drawing of someone falling off their broom with your face printed out and glued to it, along with harry's whose drawing had just knocked you off victoriously. they had put "[y/l/n] vs potter: this friday at 6" at the top like it was some kind of promotional advert. and, as much as you hated it, it actually somewhat worked.

from that game on, the other kids began picking sides every week to see who would win. the crowd turnout became the largest it had been in your entire time at hogwarts. some came in support of potter or were otherwise afraid of what would happen if they didn't, while a good amount of students started to become your biggest supporters the more you showed your skills in the game.

see, you didn't just become captain by having a recognizable last name unlike some other people; you had been playing quidditch since you could fly from a young age, and made the team every single year before finally being nominated for the position by your own teammates. you made a promise to them that day that slytherin would no longer be known as the winning house, and that they finally had some competition to sweat over.

and sweat they did. your first game as captain was an easy win, and so were the next 3. it wasn't until the slytherin players learned they actually had to try in order to win now that they began winning every other game as well. that's where harry stepped in.

harry was someone you always tried to avoid during your years at hogwarts. you didn't socialize with many slytherins to begin with as you found some of them to be rather grating and obnoxious, but especially not with slytherins like potter. it was students like him that gave the entire house a bad name. everyone thought he was so charming besides his cocky attitude, but you saw through his act right away. you think that's partially why he singled you out of anyone as his target.

once he set his sights on you, it was impossible to avoid him. it's like he had some sort of tracker on you the way he always managed to pop up in the most random of places simply to upset you. not that you'd be surprised, as along with harry's sickening bravado came his disregard for moral ethics. if there was a way to cheat, lie, or steal your way into getting what you wanted, potter was already on it. he knew no bounds when it came to his little schemes either. from stealing your game plays and sharing them with his teammates to spreading rumors about your players to playing clearly illegal moves during the game only for nobody to notice but you, potter seemed to revel in the rivalry everyone pushed onto you.

you hated giving him the satisfaction of breaking your cold demeanor, but sometimes his antics pushed you too far. he knows how protective you've become over your teammates, so he'll target them when he can't get to you, especially the younger ones. this is where you've blown your cover quite a few times as you can't stand seeing your first years cower in fear anytime they see potter. yelling, spitting, nearly getting physical with him on several occasions when he ignores your threats to leave the kids alone or else. it's as if he rather enjoys getting such a rise out of you, and not just to fuel the public rivalry.

today was your last day of practice before the last, biggest game of the semester. your team knew to meet at the field at 5 pm ready to go as you had plenty of plays you wanted to perfect before playing against the slytherins tomorrow night. practice had only just started with a few flyers in the air before you heard a commotion of voices coming from behind you.

you turned and saw harry leading his team onto the field, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at your teammates in mockery. you swear you felt steam coming from your ears when you told your team to wait and let you handle this.

you stormed up to potter with an accusatory pointed finger. "you. get the hell off my field now before i call mcgonagall out here, potter." you spit at him before pushing his chest. harry takes the push and just laughs, shaking his head at you.

"[y/l/n], i'm not sure how many professors have to tell you that this field isn't yours before you let us use it for practice as well," he said with a smirk, changing his grip on his broomstick and letting it rest on his shoulder. you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. "you know damn well we practice here every week at this time, and yet you're never able to find a time outside of that to spend with your own team. curious, isn't it?" you ask him sarcastically, your tone biting.

harry's smirk drops slightly. "are you suggesting that i'm trying to sabotage your chance at winning the season tomorrow? because i'd never do such a thing, [y/l/n], and it hurts that you think of me in that way." he responds just as sarcastically. a few of his players snicker and laugh just behind him, earning a nasty glare from you that has them shut up quickly.

you look back at harry who's waiting for a clever comeback from you, nearly on the edge of his seat to see what you have to say this time. you hate how much he thrives off getting you upset.

"fine. practice, then. you'll need it." you tell harry with a cold tone, giving him a disgusted look up and down. you take a step forward and point your finger back into harry's chest, your faces less than a foot away from each other. "but if you mess with any of my players, even as a joke, i will gut you like a fucking fish." you tell him in a hushed tone. you think you see his pupils dilate slightly, but you were probably mistaken. "got it?"

harry's smirk only grows as he starts backing away slowly. "got it, princess." he laughs, turning to his little group of followers for approval before they run off to the other goal post opposite from your team. the nickname is new, and for some reason it made your stomach drop and heart race like crazy. that potter kid just knew exactly how to get under your skin.

you tried to focus on your own team's plays for the rest of practice, but you could clearly hear harry and his friends saying your name and laughing too often for your comfort. anytime you happened to make eye contact with harry, you made sure to scowl at him and promptly turn your attention away. just his sheer presence made your blood boil and skin crawl.

for the most part there were no issues in the sky, the slytherins mostly kept to their side besides the few times harry's friends were messing around and ended up coming close to a few of your teammates. you scolded them each time, but they would only laugh at you and fly off to tell harry about your outbursts. other than that, you ended up getting a lot accomplished in order to be prepared for the game the next day.

however, towards the end of practice, your teammates were having some difficulty with a new technique you taught them, so you took the time to demonstrate it with another player in the sky. you were just about to start instructing when your teammates started calling out to you frantically. you didn't have enough time to process what they were warning you about before you felt someone fly into you from behind, nearly causing you to fall off your broomstick.

you could feel yourself falling to the ground, but your grip on your broomstick remained tight enough to quickly get it under you just in time to somewhat break your landing. you tumbled to the ground with a pained groan, and heard someone else fall just to your left. you could feel the wind get knocked out of you in the air, so it took a moment for you to properly breathe as you tried to sit up.

your teammates got to you in seconds, asking if you were okay and trying to help you up. that's when the pain set in. standing up-right you could feel your rib cage aching and your shoulder throbbing. "i'm fine, i'm fine," you told everyone, brushing off the grass stains on your clothes. you turned to see who had fallen next to you, and who else would be lying there but harry potter as his slytherin teammates rushed to his aid as well.

they're helping him stand up and you can feel the rage building inside you. you break away from your teammates' grasps and march up to harry as he's wiping the grass stains off his own clothes as well.

"you did that on purpose, you pest." you snap at him. harry looks at you incredulously as he fixes his practice jersey. "are you mad? it was an accident, i wasn't looking where i was going, drama queen." he snaps back, giving you a dirty look up and down. you can feel your jaw clenching and fists balling at your sides. "oh yeah, sure, you just so happened to run into me of all people in the sky. you know, you're such a…"

you pause in your anger noticing a gash on the side of harry's face with blood starting to drip down his cheekbone. harry notices your concern and gives you a confused look. you sigh and instinctively pull down the sleeve of your sweatshirt to hold it against his wound. "now you have a giant cut on your face, for fuck's sake," you tell him, your voice a mix of panic and exasperation. harry winces at your hand making contact with his face, but his eyes grow with concern hearing your panic.

you turn to your team and start guiding harry towards the school. "practice is over, do not be late tomorrow." you announce to them hurriedly, trying to keep your sleeve against harry's injury as you rush him off the field.

harry actually manages to stay quiet on the way to the infirmary despite your anticipation to shush him the entire way for making crude jokes. instead he remains silent and lets you urgently guide him through the empty halls.

once you arrive at the infirmary wing, you notice the entire room is full of people. every bed is taken, ans every nurse is running around frantically from patient to patient. you and harry share a confused look before you roll your eyes and find a nurse between beds. "excuse me, ma'am, i'm sorry to bother but um, potter here was being an idiot and got a cut on his face that just needs to be bandaged quickly." you motion towards harry and feel him give you a nasty look out of your peripheral for calling him an idiot.

the nurse, completely exhausted, sighs and motions towards a room to the side of the check-in station. "look, we are swamped with a potion experiment gone wrong here. if it's just a cut that doesn't need stitches there's a first aid kit in the little room over that way." she tells you quickly before being called away to another patient. you try to intervene but she's already jogging away, leaving you with a bloody harry in your hands. literally.

you sigh, clearly annoyed, and turn to examine harry's cut again. pulling your blood-soaked sleeve away, you see the blood flow still hasn't slowed and decide to just bite your tongue and help harry despite your hatred for him only growing in this situation.

you drag harry towards the little room, opening the door and turning on the lights to reveal the smallest examination room you'd ever seen. you had no idea this was even here, but it only contained a sink, a cot, a locked medicine cabinet, and a first aid kit. you closed the door behind harry and locked it. you grab a few paper towels from next to the sink and walk harry over to the cot. "sit," you command him, practically pushing him with your other hand to sit down.

harry looks up at you softly, way softer than he's ever looked at you. it makes your heart skip a beat but you ignore the feeling quickly. "here," you tell him coldly, handing over the paper towels. "just apply pressure on it while i get the first aid kit."

harry does as he's told and you slowly pull away your sleeve, making a disgusted face at the stains left on the cuff. you sigh and pull your arm back through the sleeve, starting to take off the hoodie altogether. "well, that's ruined," you complain, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in a tiny tank top and workout shorts.

harry's watching you intently, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight in his seat. you walk to the sink and thoroughly wash your hands in case any blood happened to get on you as well.

opening the first aid kit up you find a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol, cotton rounds, and bandages. pouring alcohol on the cotton, you turn to harry and still find him watching you.

you give him a look. "what?" you ask with pinched brows. harry, for once, looks flustered as he turns his eyes away from you, instead staring at the floor below his feet. you just roll your eyes and set down the alcohol, walking towards harry and pulling away his hand from his cheek.

"here," you say, moving his jaw to look up towards you. "this is gonna hurt a little," you tell him before gently cleaning the cut with the cotton round. harry winces, but his eyes never leave your face. you try to ignore his gaze but it becomes even more intense the longer you take to stop the bleeding. you can practically feel his stare burning holes into your skin, and you start to feel that familiar annoyance rise in your stomach.

"i know i'm pretty, potter, but can't you look anywhere else?" you complain, giving him a cold look before returning your attention to his cheek. harry's eyes drop again, but end up falling on your chest this time. you back away and scoff, throwing the cotton pad into the trash next to the cot. "perv," you mutter under your breath.

just as you're preparing the bandage on the counter next to the sink, you hear harry say something from behind you. "you're gonna have to speak up, kid," you chuckle, throwing away some wrapping in the trash. "your, um, your back," you hear him stutter.

you turn to give him a confused look. "what?" you ask. harry motions towards your back, and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. you look at your back and pull up your tank top slightly to see a massive bruise forming on your ribcage. you gasp at the size and color, immediately turning your anger towards harry.

he already looks prepared for your rage before you can even start to say anything. "you bloody prick, i know you did this on purpose. do you seriously want to win so badly you'd nearly break a rib to get there?" you snap at him, pulling your shirt back down and angrily marching towards him still sitting on the cot.

"i told you, [y/n], it was an accident." he says. you pause. he's never called you by your first name, at least not to your face. you were actually surprised he knew what it was in the first place.

harry looks up at you innocently, his eyes soft and brows raised. this just angers you again. you take another step towards him, your legs practically between his as harry tilts his head up to keep looking at you.

his glasses are crooked, his hair is a mess, and the cut on his cheek is still raw. and still, for some reason, your heart skips a beat looking down at him. you've never been so close to his face. you've never noticed his freckles before.

"you should just be glad i haven't targeted you the way you've targeted me all these years, potter. you're lucky i'm a nice person and don't believe in revenge, or else you'd be the one with nearly broken bones and a bruise the size of your lungs." you spit in his face, your tone razor sharp.

harry's expression hardly changes at your words. if anything his eyes only soften more watching you become filled with anger.

"and wipe that innocent look off your face before i do it for you. you should be thanking me for patching up this cut and not making it worse." you continue to vent at him as you step away to grab the bandage from the counter.

you're just starting to press down on the adhesive of the bandage around harry's injury when his eyes meet yours again. "thank you." he says, his voice broken and whiny. something about the way he says it makes your stomach drop to the floor. harry's usual annoying temperament was completely gone, no longer making mocking jokes or insults towards you, instead only speaking softly and looking into your eyes even softer.

confused and feeling a strange mix of emotions, you finish applying the bandage on harry's face without a word.

you start to put away the first aid kit, taking one last look at your bruise in the mirror with a sigh.

"i'm sorry." you hear harry say quietly. you look at him, his expression empathetic and almost concerned for you. it was then you started to believe the incident really was an accident. why would harry ever be apologetic for something he'd usually take loads of pride in, like knocking you off your broomstick?

you swallow nervously and look away from him, fixing your shirt. "you should be," you try to remain cold, but your voice is breaking. "i'm just glad you also hurt yourself in the process. you deserve to feel some of the pain too." you say in a deadpan voice.

you pick up your sweatshirt off the floor and start soaking the sleeve in some hot water to at least try and get some of the stains out.

"you're right." harry says behind you, his voice somber. you roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt to seem remorseful, turning to him curtly. "i know i'm right. and you know what else? you're just a loser who picks on people to feel better about yourself because you're insecure." you insult him.

you expect at least some kind of reaction from harry, but he just continues to watch the ground with a sullen expression. "i know." he says quietly.

you groan and turn to shut the sink faucet off, walking towards harry with the same accusatory pointing finger from before. "and you can stop with this whole act you're putting on 'cause it's pissing me right off," you nearly yell at harry, getting in his face. he just looks up at you with those big blue eyes again, biting his lip harshly.

you went to scold him again when you noticed a rather large bulge in his pants from where you were standing above him. you thought you were just assuming, but once you took a step back, you knew exactly what was happening with a smirk growing on your face.

harry nervously looked down at his crotch before quickly attempting to hide his obvious erection. he adjusted his pants and tried to use his shirt to cover it, but you were already laughing at him. "this cannot be real, this has got to be a setup. there's no way you just got turned on by me insulting you for 10 minutes straight." you could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.

clearly embarrassed, harry looks between you and his erection with fear in his eyes. it only makes the situation that much better for you as you continue to humiliate your own bully.

"u-uh, this isn't, um–" "don't try and tell me this isn't what it looks like, potter. i know exactly what's going on here." you interrupt him and cross your arms. "you're such a loser that the only way you can get off is by having girls hate you. y'know, most guys get erections from making out with a girl, not getting threatened by them." you mock him, still a hint of anger laced in your voice.

harry's looking at you with that same innocent expression, but there's something else in his eyes that makes you pause. he's not just embarrassed, he's actually enjoying what you're saying to him. you can see his pupils dilate just looking at you, his bulge only becoming more obvious the longer you mock him.

you want to be disgusted at this situation. you want to hate the way harry's looking at you and leave the room with a huff to tell everyone about his little kink. you want to call him a disgusting creep and slap him across the face for ever thinking of you in such a way. but, you don't. because you can't.

you should be disgusted. you should be creeped out. but, for some reason, you're just not. you should be filled with rage ready to tell him off again, but, instead, you find yourself full of curiosity and…flattery?

of course it's never flattering for a guy to get an erection thinking about you being upset with him, if anything it's quite morbid. however, with you and harry, everything finally started to make sense. this is why he was always pushing your buttons just to get a rise out of you, or why he seemed to thrive off of your heated interactions. because he did. he found pleasure in your anger.

again, you should be fuming, but you're just not. your heart is racing and so is your mind. you're completely flustered at this point, possibly even more than harry is. you can feel the blush on your neck and cheeks and can't tell if the embarrassment you're feeling is secondhand or not.

still looking up at you, harry attempts to cover his erection up again with his pants. you just laugh at him again as there's no real point, you're more than well aware of his predicament at the moment. his blush is so severe he's nearly completely red, and you can see his hair start to stick to his forehead from the sweat. while you'd usually feel nothing but contempt looking down at harry's innocent expression, this time you feel a bit different. he almost looks younger now, his eyes soft and lips slightly hung open.

you notice the bandage around his scar starts to lift a bit around his eye, so you sigh and place a hand on his bandage to help reattach it. again, harry almost winces at your movement, and you can see his erection twitch under his pants. god, he really does get off on this.

while fixing it, harry's still watching you intently. "i'm sorry," his voice is soft but deep, making your blood run cold. you pause to look him in the eyes. "and what are you sorry for?" you lead him on.

harry's brows furrow together slightly. "for…well, y'know," he trails off, offering a fake, awkward chuckle. you smirk as you look back at his bandage. "no, i don't know. so why don't you tell me, potter?" you ask teasingly.

without fail, harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to subtly hide his erection again. your smirk only grows at his predictability.

"u-uh, well, i-i'm sorry for…for, um, getting turned on by you…" his stuttering is only making you enjoy the moment more. maybe part of you likes seeing him squirm like this under your hand. "by me…?" you lead him on again, taking a step away to examine his bandage. harry swallowed nervously watching you. "by you…being mean to me." he says meekly, his voice small and embarrassed.

you smirk at him again and decide to test the waters. "good boy."

harry's face absolutely drains of color. you can practically see his heart thumping out of his chest. and, if you weren't wrong, his hands actually started shaking in his lap.

you start laughing again at his reaction, hardly able to hold back from how funny this situation was to you. harry potter, the school's bad boy, the top slytherin student, the quidditch captain, your biggest rival, has a literal kink for being degraded. and he had the nerve to ever try and call you a loser.

"sorry, it's just so funny to me," you tell him between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. "actually, no, i'm not sorry. i think you deserve to be laughed at for this. what guy actually gets horny from girls being mean to him?" you ask rhetorically, crossing your arms again and examining harry in front of you.

he's completely disheveled and getting sweatier by the minute. he breaks eye contact after your question, nervously scratching the back of his neck to waste time. "uh…" he starts off, clearly not knowing what to say to that. you just continue smirking, watching him struggle. "i mean, is it every time a girl is mean to you this happens? i'd imagine with your attitude that would be pretty often." you joke, partially curious but mostly just trying to make him squirm more.

harry shakes his head, both of his hands rubbing at his face and wiping the sweat from his hairline. "n-no, it's, uh…" he starts again, eventually trailing off with a sigh. you start tapping your foot impatiently. "i'm waiting." you say in a mocking tone.

harry tenses again, still not looking back up at you just yet. his body language is clearly uncomfortable and defensive. "it's not…all girls, okay? it's just…you." he finally spits out, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "this only happens with you, i swear. a-and it's only started this year, and i don't know why." he rambles, speaking with his hands, his eyes still fixated on the floor.

for once, you're speechless. you weren't expecting that confession from him, and you certainly didn't know how to react to it in the moment. i mean, this potter kid has had it out for you since day one, he's practically made you two enemies on the field and off, and now he wants to tell you all this? it's a bit confusing, to say the least.

harry sighs, resting his face in his hands once again. "look, i'm sorry about all of this, okay? all of it, not just today, but everything. i shouldn't have been so rude to you all this time, especially not for the reasons i have…" you can practically hear harry wincing at his own words. he uncovers his face but continues to look down. "just…please, please, don't tell anyone. i know that's asking for a lot considering all i've done to you, but…please, [y/n]." he's nearly begging.

you just watch him carefully, trying to figure out how to respond to all of this. on one hand you're inclined to feel insulted, disrespected, and downright disgusted at this information, but in reality…you're just obscenely curious. i mean, how often does a guy get turned on by you being mean to him? and not just you, but specifically, only you. does that mean he actually likes you? or is it only a sexual thing? and how would that even work?

as your mind continues to raise more and more questions, you feel yourself speaking before you even decide what to say.

"fine, i won't tell anyone. if," you take a slow step towards harry. he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. your heart leaps at the sight of him so vulnerable beneath you. it's as if you can see him thinking anything, anything for you.

you're not sure what's possessing you in this moment, but you can't stop yourself from pushing the limits further between you and harry. again, your mouth starts speaking for you.

"if…you let me help." you say with a smirk, closing the gap between you and harry and standing between his legs once again. he's looking up at you in complete shock, his eyes examining every inch of you in front of him. he's trying to speak but his mouth just keeps opening and closing, gasping for air and nervously chuckling.

arms still crossed, you wait for harry to say something and enjoy seeing him be the speechless one this time.

he eventually looks back up at you, biting his lip again and leaning back slightly. "help…me?" he asks, confused. you laugh at him, shaking your head. "yes, potter. help you. can't have you leaving here with that," you motion down to his pants with your head. "can we?" you ask seductively.

again, you're not sure what's making you act like this right now, but you honestly didn't mind it. you already got a kick out of insulting harry anyway, why not watch him struggle a bit harder under your thumb in this tiny exam room?

harry's completely frozen. you smile at him this time, the most genuine one you could muster in the moment. "if you want to, of course," you say quietly, softening your gaze at him and fixing his messy hair. harry makes a soft sound and leans into your touch, his eyes closing. you giggle to yourself, he just looks so innocent resting in your hand.

the moment didn't last long as you tighten your grip on the hair on the back of harry's head, pulling it so he's looking right at you. his eyes open and a soft whine escapes his lips. "i'll take that as a yes?" you ask smugly, leaning down until your faces were nearly touching. harry does his best to nod his head, swallowing nervously and glancing at your lips.

you smile at him again. something just felt so right when you were in control, seeing harry's front disappear as he became a mess in your hands. you felt powerful, confident, and, to your dismay, insanely turned on from the entire situation. your feelings of hate and desire for harry drove you mad, yet he seemed more than willing to be the recipient of both.

so, you lean forward, and you kiss him.

it's soft at first, slow, shy, you feel like harry's barely breathing. eventually he catches up, nearly moaning into your mouth as you feel your stomach fluttering. you put your other hand on his cheek and sit on harry's lap, your knees resting on the cot around harry's hips. you feel his hands tread carefully up your thighs and under your shorts, his fingers digging into your skin roughly.

this time you can't hold back your moans, causing harry to melt even more into you. his lips were soft, careful, but so eager. it's like he was starving and yet still took his time with you.

you pull away slightly, your breath heavy and forehead resting on harry's. "lay down," you command him, climbing off his lap. harry quickly lies back on the cot, kicking off his shoes in the process. you do the same before crawling back on top of him, carefully resting your ass directly on his erection.

harry openly groans, his hands reaching for your hips and squeezing the skin roughly. you bite your lip to hold back another moan. you slightly adjust your position and cause harry's head to roll back against the cot. "[y/n]..." is all he manages to say in his broken voice.

he's already such a mess and all you've done is sit in his lap. who would've known all this time his teasing you was just a cover up for this?

"this'll be easy. you're already practically falling apart on me, potter." you tease him, your cold fingers finding their way under his jersey. harry's body shivers, his hands moving from your hips to your waist. his fingers crawl under your shirt as well and cause your skin to break out in goosebumps.

he slightly smirks at this reaction, but you don't let him have his moment for long. "and don't get cocky," you warn him before you start grinding on his erection. his head rolls back in pleasure again, his mouth hanging open and fingers digging into your skin. you smirk to yourself. "don't forget you're the loser who likes to be insulted here." you remind him harshly, your hands running along his chest under his jersey.

harry's noises are completely pathetic, his hips bucking into yours for even the slightest bit more friction. you stop grinding into him and he lets out a shaky breath, looking at you with needy eyes. he looks so worked up already and you've barely done a thing.

"shirt off," you tell him, pulling at the material. harry, again, doesn't hesitate to follow instructions. he removes his hands from your waist and quickly takes off his jersey, throwing it to the floor.

your breath hitches in your throat looking at harry's soft, sweaty skin in the dim fluorescent lighting of the exam room. you never realized just how toned his shoulders and chest were, or how many scars and bruises he seemed to have, both new and fading.

you look back up at harry, his eyes nervously watching your every move. you lean in to kiss him again, messier, needier. his hands return to your hips and practically force you to start grinding on him again. you would've intervened if you weren't just as desperate to continue rolling your hips into harry's hard erection.

a soft moan comes from your lips as you grind into him harder, your hands resting on his chest for support. harry groans, his brows furrowing. "shit," he mutters, only encouraging you to go faster.

you could feel how wet you were through your panties. your stomach was tightening already, making you feel a bit embarrassed of your own desperation. seeing harry be so willing to please you only had you wanting him more.

just as you start to feel yourself blush at your lack of self control, you notice harry's panicked expression, his grip on your skin guaranteed to leave bruises. "what's wrong?" you ask, somewhat sarcastically and also concerned.

he struggles to get a sound out. "hmph, gonna, fuck, please, don't," he's stumbling through his words, barely able to keep his eyes focused on you. his hands try to stop your hips, but his grip his weak.

"stop what?" you ask curiously, slowing your hips slightly but rolling into him harder. harry moans, his hand covering his mouth hearing how loud it echoed through the tiny room. you just laugh at him and pull his hand away, guiding it to your chest. harry's eyes widen, trying to pull his hand away.

"stop, gonna…cum, if you don't," harry whimpers, squirming under your weight as his legs try to escape. you take your opportunity and pick up your pace, giving harry an evil smile.

"aw, already?" you ask, forcing his hand back to your chest. you guide his fingers along the curves of your breasts through your thin tank top, causing him to breathe even heavier. "you haven't even gotten to see these, and you're already about to cum? i was right, you're such a fucking loser, potter." you tell him, guiding his hand back under your shirt.

you can feel him struggling under you even more, his torso only getting sweatier. you just grab for his other hand and guide it under your shirt as well. he watches as intently as he can, his eyes still rolling back in pleasure at the pressure in his lap.

you help him lift his hands higher and higher until he's cupping your tits under your shirt, your breathing becoming hitched at the feeling of his rough fingers running across your sensitive nipples.

"fuck," you say under your breath, loud enough for harry to moan and grope you rougher, lifting your shirt above your tits. you gasp at the feeling and look back down at him, a sweaty mess with eyes barely open.

"please, please," harry starts begging, his hips still trying to squirm away from you. you place your hands on his sides and push him down, continuing to chase your high. "just stay still, harry," you nearly whimper. you realize you've never called him by his first name either.

that's when he comes completely unraveled beneath you. he's practically crying out in pleasure and desperation, his hands roughly squeezing the soft skin of your tits as his head is thrown back against the cot. just watching him fall apart like this has you shaking on top of him, feeling the warm wetness of your panties leaving a mark on harry's jeans.

it takes a few moments for both of you to come back to earth. harry's hands eventually loosen their grip on you before quickly pulling away, his eyes wide and panicked again. "sorry," he says quickly, his cheeks completely flushed.

you just shake your head and laugh, climbing off of harry's lap and adjusting your shirt. harry sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to catch his breath still.

the room is a bit awkward, but you eventually start to chuckle and push harry's shoulder lightly. "so…" you lead him on. harry chuckles as well, hanging his head low. "so…" he repeats, his voice still soft.

"so…is it wrong of me to assume you might actually like me?" you ask, picking up harry's jersey and handing it to him. he offers you a shy smile and puts it back on, shaking his head. "y'know, i'm not sure there's a way i could've made it more obvious." he admits half heartedly.

you laugh again, feeling a blush crawl up your cheeks. you turn away from him and grab your sweatshirt from the sink, the sleeve still completely stained.

"i really am sorry about that, i have a few you could borrow if you'd like." he says with a smirk, pointing towards your sweatshirt. you roll your eyes. "well, good to know your cockiness hasn't gone anywhere." you respond, suppressing a smile.

he chuckles. "never will." he says confidently. you give him a look and take a step towards him, causing him to swallow nervously.

you laugh at him again. "yeah, okay, pretty boy." you tease him, stepping away and towards the door. he follows behind you, still blushing like crazy.

leaving the exam room you notice all the nurses are still running around like lunatics, having no idea what's just happened only a few feet away from them. you and harry share a knowing look before running off together, laughing as you reach the halls.

"y'know," harry says between laughs, looking over at you with nothing but love in his eyes as you continue walking the empty halls. "don't think i'll go easy on you tomorrow just because of…that." he says, motioning behind him with a shy smile. you smile back at him and offer your hand. harry looks a bit hesitant, but shakes it anyway. "wouldn't want it any other way, potter."

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[maybe-moonchild]

CH4 𓆣 James Potter x Slytherin Reader summary: the first match of the season arrives and you receive the last name 'POTTER'. wc: 6.3k ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ

The first Saturday in November arrived and you were so nervous that you couldn’t eat breakfast.��

You’d barely been able to sleep either, having arrived at the dining hall earlier than necessary. Every nervous drum of your fingers against the table did nothing to calm your nerves. Absentmindedly pushing your eggs around your plate did nothing for your appetite to return.

Lance was in the same boat like usual, always a bundle of anxieties before each game. He was the picture of overthinking. His leg bounced before you finally nudged it with your knee. When you quit, Keith quit without a second thought. He’d been the Slytherin seeker, having spent the past five years going head to head with Lance to go after the snitch. 

“This is weird, huh?” Keith sighed as he slipped into the seat across from you. The two of you shared a grimace while Lance barely hummed in response. “I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t playing on game day.”

“First game. Fifth year,” Lance droned. “You had detention.”

Pausing from reaching over our friend, Keith considered that before shrugging. That checked out, you hadn’t won that game which had been a massive disappointment for your house. 

“Sounds like you’ll be catching a lot more snitches this year,” he teased and dropped eggs on his plate.

Lance mumbled something in Spanish. The only thing you could make out was something like ‘bite me’.

You nudged Lance's plate in his direction to get his attention. “Stop freaking out. They have a new Slytherin seeker. How good can they be?”

The Gryffindor shot you a flat look, “You’re  literally freaking out too.”

“So?” You scowled. “Different reasons.”

Keith tossed a breakfast potato at both of your heads to divert the tension. It was a weird morning and the last thing anyone needed was more weight hanging over the results of the match. 

“You,” he pointed at Lance, “Stop spiraling. I helped with tryouts last year, unless our house has been harboring a secret quidditch star, you're fine. They were all awful.”

Your smug look vanished when it was your turn to be pointed at. “You, also stop spiraling. If Gryffindor loses, Kaston never even needs to know you were involved. There. Now pass me the bacon.”

It didn’t take long for Remus and Peter to join you, soon followed by the other star players, Sirius and James. You were holding it together but every second that ticked closer to the start of the game just made the dam of panic harder to contain. 

“I’ll make sure to send a bludger directly into Kastons face,” Sirius winked as he slipped between Remus and Lance.

“Focus on the plays Black.”

James chuckled as he squeezed to sit beside you, nearly spilling Peter’s orange juice to make room. "Now, now, Padfoot," he said with a grin. "We want to win this match fair and square. No need to stoop to Kaston's level."

The atmosphere at the Gryffindor table was buzzing with excitement and anticipation. The first game of the season was always a big deal, and this one especially so, with the tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin running high this year.

Somehow, the act of Remus elbowing Sirius in the side looked incidental. “Don’t get disqualified in the first game of the season. You already know how thin of ice you're on already with McGonagall.”

“Watch it you tosser,” he muttered around a mouthful of breakfast. 

“Oh my god, please don’t get disqualified,” you groaned, covering your face in your hands. Someone clapped you on the shoulder but you didn’t bother to look up. “Why am I so nervous? I never got this nervous the past six years and I’m not even playing.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to catch the snitch in the first five seconds since I’m no longer up against Keith,” Lance joked, grinning at the bored looking Slytherin at his side, donned in his jersey. Keith always got Lance’s good sweaters considering he hoarded most of them the entire year. 

You were content enough to watch the game in the red and gold scarf, paired with the matching mittens. 

James tried to give you a reassuring smile, hoping to ease your worries. When you still hadn’t looked up, he sighed and lifted your head with one hand. "We'll do fine," he said, his tone comforting, yet determined. "We have practiced our asses off, and we know all of Kaston's tricks."

He knew this game was important to you. To him it was maybe even more personal than just... house pride.

“Now shush and eat something so you don’t make yourself sick. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

You held his gaze, glowering under his cheerful watch. James just leaned over you, his arm grazing yours as he dropped your favorite muffin on your plate. Letting him win, you picked up your muffin in defeat in the hopes that his good luck would continue and translate to the score.

“If I wasn’t so desperate for you to win,  I’d hope your karma comes in the form of a quaffle to the head,” you grumbled back,voice lacking any real bite.

“Here, I’ll hand feed you. Hand me your fork.”

“Taking it back. I hope you win and get a quaffle to the head.”

Eventually the players needed to head down to the locker rooms to get ready to warm up. The groups said their goodbyes, exchanging words of encouragement before splitting up. 

You joined the players, no one batting much of an eye that you were hanging around after you’d been doing it the past two months. 

“Kastons aim is better when he has the chance to be still. Odds are, if he’s not stopped, he’ll hit the bludger at the closest player, specifically to his left,” I rambled, going over what I could for the hundredth time in the past few days. “Simmons is faster when going up and to the right. When going to goal, aim down and left. Oh! And-”

James listened to you intently, his expression focused as he tied his shoes and pulled on his jersey. He knew how important this information was for the upcoming game, but at some point, what was done was done. There was no more drilling and studying that could be done besides applying everything he knew. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced over at you, "I got it, I got it," he assured you, a hint of playful teasing in his tone. "I've got it down, don't worry."

He stood up and stretched, turning to face you fully. At some point over the past two months, his physical touch no longer felt foreign, his hands coming to grasp your shoulders until you relaxed. 

James smiled at you, eyebrow cocked as he waited for you to crack. It only took a few seconds before you folded, finding it impossible to do anything but bite down on your lip in semblance of remaining stoic. But James knew he had you when he grinned proudly. 

It was hard not to believe in him when he looked so damn sure of himself. 

Despite how obnoxious you’d always found him, you actually enjoyed spending the past few weeks scheming and strategizing. 

And as much as you hated Elias Kaston- which you did vehemently with a white hot passion- if he hadn’t ran you off the Slytherin quidditch team… well, you wouldn’t be standing there, face inches from James’s very pretty one. 

You liked being there. 

Seemingly satisfied that you were no longer about to fly off the handle, he stepped back to continue getting ready for the match. The match you had to believe he was going to successfully lead his team to win.

“I know. I know that. You’re… you’re great.” When you realized what you’d said, your eyes widened and you stuttered to correct yourself. “At quidditch. You’re great at quidditch and you’ll be fine.”

Damn it, the damage was already done. James couldn't help but grin as you corrected yourself, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. 

"What was that? You think I'm great? Sorry, did I hear that right? You did use the word great, yeah?" 

At the realization you’d just made his ego swell before your eyes, you hang your head in defeat. 

“Oh, I'm never going to hear the end of this,” you groaned under your breath, arms folding over your chest as you leaned back against the locker. 

Sirius grinned as he passed, “Oh you are certainly not.” You scowled when he clapped you on the shoulder. The two boys exchanged nods, Sirius first as if giving his friend the okay to do something. You were a bit too distracted taking a breath to calm your nerves that were threatening to bubble up again. 

Most of the team had either already slipped oJames reached for his bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out the extra jersey. He held it up, presenting it to you as he stood up from the bench.

"Here," he offered, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "You better wear this and cheer extra loud for me. A good luck charm for us." 

out of the locker room and onto the pitch, the space growing quieter but the sound rising as students filled the stands. That was your cue to find the rest of the group and take your seat. 

James took a breath and reached for his bag, rummaging around for a moment. "Here," he offered, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. You barely managed to catch it as you held it up, inspecting it with furrowed brows.

It was his spare jersey. The shirt was the exact same as yours had once been, aside from the red and gold material and the name POTTER stitched on the back. You’d barely registered what it was before looking up to see James already back towards the door.

"You better wear this and cheer extra loud for me. A good luck charm for us." 

“Why?” you blurted out. All you received in response was a shrug, cheeky grin and a wink before he was gone, the curtains of the tent flapping closed behind him. That was it; he was gone and it was just you and his jersey remaining in the locker room. 

That was totally on purpose. 

You scoffed, mouth falling open in disbelief. “That asshole.”

For a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but stare at. The material was familiar in your hands, making you frown as you studied it like it would make everything make sense. 

If you put it on, you were accepting something. You just didn’t know what that was. That was what scared you. Putting on this jersey wasn’t the same as throwing on one of Lance’s generic sweaters in support of the Gryffindors.

You wouldn’t just be supporting their house; you would be supporting James Potter specifically. You would be broadcasting that support right on your back. 

Not wearing it… well, it would be rude not  to wear it…

You were quick to strip off Lance’s scarf and toss it into his locker, slipping James’s jersey over your head. Maybe if you somehow did it fast enough, it wouldn’t have happened by your own doing. Like magic. 

Finding Peter, Remus and Keith in the sea of red took longer than you anticipated. It was a struggle to track their faces through the giddy students nearly bouncing in their seats. You pushed through to join them, ignoring their shared and knowing looks as you took your seat.

You had maybe three, whole seconds of peace. 

Keith grinned, his smirk widening as he studied the jersey you were wearing. "What's this? Trying to show some Gryffindor pride?" He teased playfully, bumping your shoulder with his own.

“Shut it.” You didn’t even turn in his direction, focusing up at the players warming up around the pitch. 

“Just saying.”

“You also ‘just said’ that there was something particularly softer about Lance’s sweaters-” your mumble was cut off by a playful swat of your head but you didn’t miss the pink flooding Keith's cheeks. 

“He doesn’t use magic to wash his clothes, they are softer.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved a dismissive hand in his direction, your eyes narrowing in Kastons direction when you saw him flying around. “I get it. I’m a real cheerleader.”

Remus, who was sitting on your other side, raised an eyebrow. While he said nothing, you knew he had something to say. Whatever it was, he kept it to himself and pretended to be very interested in the players above your heads. 

“Well, we are happy to have you in the stands with us today,” Peter said warmly as he leaned forward, flashing you a smile that you returned wholeheartedly. 

Watching the place you had once been spent all of your free time hurt, but not as badly as you’d anticipated it to. There was a flash of a moment that your eyes stung, throat constricting around the fact that your time playing quidditch had come to an end. As quickly as it came, it was gone; because it was okay. 

You’d get over it, you really would. That was clear now. 

You also had more fun with quidditch the past two months than you had the past six years. No one had undermined your abilities or ideas, your efforts were appreciated, taken into play. It just felt right. While you were a good player, maybe you were a better coach when you had a receptive team. 

James hovered in the center, running over your notes and information in his head as he accounted for all of the Slytherin players. His teammates worked on practice drills, warming up and exuding tenacity. 

The sight of you wearing his jersey caused a wide grin to spread across his face, and he fought hard to keep his focus on warming up and not swooning. The knowledge that you were proudly donning his jersey to watch him play had his heart racing with adrenaline.

Sirius' laughter rang out from where he was circling, slowing to a stop beside James. "You know, you’re  probably going to be insufferable after the game," he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement.

James couldn't help himself. He smirked up at Sirius, his eyes gleaming with a fire that couldn't be contained. "Oh, absolutely, Pads. I'll be riding this high for weeks. No, months. I'll ride this high for months."

A wry smile tugged at Sirius’s lips. "Months, eh?" He asked, arching an eyebrow playfully. "Are you sure it'll be months and not years?"

"Probably," James agreed with a nod, his cocky grin widening. He glanced down, his gaze resting on your form once again. Your eyes darted around the players, making it clear you were running plays through your own head like James was doing himself. Occasionally, you’d lean over and murmur something to Keith, directing him towards a Slytherin player with a nod of your head. 

James could get used to his name stretched across your back and he wasn’t even scared of that thought anymore. 

Gryffindor played with a ferocity and focus they had never played with before. Their plays were clean, flight patterns direct and intentional as the Slytherins struggled to catch up. They didn’t even know what hit them. Every move they made was calculated, as if they knew exactly what would happen next. Which they kinda did, thanks to you. 

James was unstoppable, relentless as he flew around the pitch, scoring goal after goal

Kaston's frustration was evident on his face and in his flying, his anger growing and making his bludger hits erratic. He lost control on where he was sending them and they rarely met their mark. 

You cheered. You cheered with every goal, cupping your hands around your mouth to yell with the crowd. The energy was electric and you were not disappointed at the experience. 

You couldn’t place the exact Kaston figured it out. At some point he had, likely when he saw you repping ‘Potter’ on your back and realized that all of Slytherin’s tactics had spread to their rival team. Which was why Sirius had to block three bludgers that Kaston had tried to hit into the stands, another attempt to take your head off and you weren’t even playing. 

No one seemed to notice that it was intentional aside from you and your friends around you. The game had become ruthless and fierce, with every score against Kaston sending a wave of pride and excitement through the crowd. The tension was palpable, the atmosphere charged with the intensity that was building between the players.

You were on the edge of your metaphorical seat when Lance and the new Slytherin seeker caught sight of the snitch. Given the score, 130 to 40, you expected the fight to catch the snitch would be more intense given it normally was between Keith and Lance. 

But no, Lance left him in the dust; easily weaving through the game in pursuit. 

And then, the moment you had all been waiting for – Lance finally caught it. The crowd went wild, cheering and screaming as the Gryffindor team surged forward, celebrating their victory. Your section erupted in celebration, the energy infectious as they all stood to cheer and yell in celebration.

You nearly lost your footing when Remus, Keith and Peter slung their arms over your shoulders, their whoops and hollers making you laugh. 

He had done it- well the entire team worked for the win- but James was the one that delivered his promise. He led his team to victory, kept his end of the deal to humiliate Kaston and his team after what they had done. They swarmed their captain, clapping for themselves and their performance. 

James, grinning brightly on his broom, shoving his dark hair off of his forehead and clapping his team on the back, had never looked more like the sun. 

There was a collective wince from the crowd when Kaston slammed right into James on their descent. You gasped as the force of the impact sent both boys tumbling to the ground. It didn’t stop there as Kaston and James grappled in the grass, their limbs twisting in a dangerous dance as both fought to regain control.

Your eyes were wide, completely taken aback at the blatant violence from your old teammate. Remus didn’t miss a beat, shoving at your shoulder to get you to move. 

“Go. Go. Go,” Remus urged and you moved, pushing Keith forward who complied. The four of you shoved through the crowd and down down the stands, all of the students starting to cheer or boo depending on their hoped outcome of the fight. 

By the time you got down there, fists were flying. 

Everyone was yelling as you jogged over, both teams adding fuel to the fire as they circled the altercation. Sirius was not attempting to hold James back, instead chest to chest with Alder as they shoved at each other. Lance was shouting to calm the two of them down but no one seemed to be listening. 

You slowed to a stop, hands flying to cover your mouth at the sight of James; his usual happy go lucky demeanor something else entirely. He was nearly unrecognizable, grappling on his back before managing to get the upper hand. 

Keith intervened first, like always, to run and step between Lance and Alder. Remus was moving forward in an instant, focusing on yanking Sirius back to keep the violence from spreading. You just stood there, unable to move. It wasn’t like you could really help at this moment.

Kaston's eyes were filled with fury as threw James off of him and onto the grass. "You think you've won," he spat, his voice laced with anger. "You think she's won this game for you. But you've got another thing coming."

"You think you can get away with that?" James shouted, his voice echoing across the field. "You'll pay for last year you Git!”

He moved fast, launching himself at the Slytherin captain with a violent intensity. A sickening crack echoed through the silence as his fist connected with Kastons’ jaw, sending him stumbling backwards with a pained cry. Your hands flew to cover your mouth in shock, unable to move from your spot beside a wide eyed Peter. 

Kaston roared in pain and anger, launching himself into the fight with a feral growl. He pounced forward, landing a hard punch of his own into James’s nose with a satisfying crack.

"You think you're above me, Potter," he growled, hatred seeping into every word. "But you're just a lucky prat with a pretty face. And she-“

James stumbled back from the intensity of the hit, his teeth gritted as the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Anger flared through him like wildfire, his vision tinted red as he launched himself at Kaston once more. 

"Shut. Up," James growled, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps of air. His nostrils flared as he wiped his bloody nose on his forearm, his expression filled with rage. "Don't you dare mention her," he snarled. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you, you filthy rat?"

Sirius and Remus were trying to separate the two, but they weren't having much luck. Sirius pulled at James, trying his best to pry him off of Kaston. "James, snap out of it!" As Dumbledore and McGonagall, followed by Slughorn, crossed the field in a concerned hurry, you were at least thankful that no one was swinging anymore. 

Lance helped keep James at bay with the others. You were hardly surprised that Keith was trying to keep Kaston back, only because he didn’t have to be gentle with the asshole. 

Tension seemed to be dying down, the fire in their eyes starting to diminish as their flared nostrils turned to panted breaths. You were stunned and maybe you shouldn't have been considering Kaston tended to speak with violence. 

Kaston managed to make note of you, his eyes finding your place in the crowd. 

“Enjoy the mudblood, blood-traitor.” His sneer revealed his red tinged teeth before he spit near your feet. 

You sucked in a breath, stiffening at the word like it had delivered a blow to your own face. It set James off again, the boys stopping him mid lunge from landing another blow. 

"You don't get to speak to her like that," James seethed, his voice low and dangerous. He felt a fire surging through him, his teeth gritted, his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

But Remus held him back firmly, his eyes dark with anger. "Prongs, enough," he said, his voice low but stern. "You need to calm down."

“What on Earth- Potter! Mr. Kaston,” McGonagall shrieked, her voice cutting through the chaos. All of the spectators in the crowd barely quieted themselves but the players on the field were happy to fall still. “Enough! Both of you, to your locker rooms now!”

James’s shoulders heaved up and down but, without tearing his eyes away from Kaston, he let his friends tug at him until his feet moved. 

From the pursed lips and set stance of your professor, she clearly was livid, containing her emotions until she unleashed them later. Most likely that rage would be directed at Kaston because he had thrown the first punch and called you something no one should ever be called. 

“Both of you will report to my office immediately after you are presentable.”

It seemed Slughorn was in agreement as he curtly nodded, looking flabbergasted at the behavior of the new quidditch captain he’d picked for the Slytherin house. As if on cue, he caught your eye. Slughorn frowned and you looked towards the ground. It wasn’t like things couldn’t be pieced together now; why you’d turned down his offer to resume your position as captain for a second year after being so successful. 

If you could lift your head up, then you would've seen the matching frowns on Dumbledore’s and McGonagall’s faces, the two of them likely putting together the same events. 

The two groups retreated as they were told. Despite spending the past hour standing out in the November chill, you were hot all over. You watched James’s back, watched his head turn and he caught your eye. Instantly, the fire in his eyes seemed to dim immediately at the sight of your distress. 

James’s blood still boiled with anger and anger consumed him, but he forced himself to look away. He didn't want to see the look on your face – he didn't want to see the disappointment or disgust. He couldn't bear it.

And then he was gone, successfully shoved through the curtains of the Gryffindor locker room by Remus. 

“What the hell just happened?” you breathed out, eyes trained on the spot he had just disappeared. Only Peter remained at your side, the other boys having followed James to follow McGonagall orders. 

"Bloody hell," Peter muttered under his breath. "James went mad. I’ve never seen him so angry before."

Now that the show was over, the students' excitement began to settle, their interest no longer obtained as they trickled out of the stands. You glanced at the professors speaking in hushed tones as they huddled together. As soon as you made eye contact with McGonagall, it was clear that you were a part of their conversation. 

So you nudged Peter and nodded towards the exit. “Come on. Let’s head back and wait for them.”

It was almost an hour before Lance and Keith spilled into the Gryffindor dorm room, sans one James Potter. You and Peter had opted to sit on the beds in quiet- well you were quiet- quiet and appreciative of Peter filling the silence in an attempt to brighten the mood. 

They informed you that after James’s cool down, he’d gone off to have a stern talking to with McGonagall before being sent to the infirmary. It was clear by your fidgeting that you were dying to go there to see him.

You weren’t sure whether you wanted to hit him yourself or-

Oh. 

Oh.

Clearly you must’ve been more shaken up than you had thought if… kissing him… had been… instinctual…

That was weird.

Waiting around became too much after two minutes but no one seemed surprised when you shoved off the bed and out of the room. You had to remind yourself not to run through the halls, especially when the occasional student passing by glanced in your direction. The need to see him, see that he was okay and why he didn’t stop fighting him and ask him why you felt so overwhelmingly concerned for his stupid well being- you just needed to see him. 

You might've over compensated with your enthusiasm, shoving open the infirmary door a bit harder than you intended. You almost stumbled into the room, catching yourself before actually tripping. When you looked up, there were three pairs of eyes already on you. 

James sat up straighter immediately, his eyes wide in anticipation of your presence. His jersey had been exchanged for a dark colored sweater and jeans. That served as a reminder that you were still clad in his own jersey, the sleeves rolled up so you didn’t drown in its size. All traces of blood had been wiped from his face, his perfectly messy hair indicative that he’d showered before Madam Pomfrey cared for his injuries. 

There was little evidence of the fight at all. Aside from the faint bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose that were already healing. You still were impressed with the magic of healing in the wizarding world.  

“Hi,” you said lamely.

Sirius had to look down in an effort to not laugh, receiving a subtle kick from Remus to shut up. 

James couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety as you took in his injuries, feeling self-conscious as your eyes studied his face. He still was unable to look away as he tried to guess what was running through your mind.

Perhaps you were disappointed or even disgusted at his behavior. 

“Hi,” James returned just as breathlessly. 

The boys exchanged a look before getting to their feet. If your presence wasn’t enough of a sign to leave you alone, then the long stare the two of you shared only solidified that their presence was unnecessary. Their movement in your peripheral finally made you look away and clear your throat. 

“Hey.” You greeted them again as you approached the bed just to break the quiet. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Look who it is!” Sirius called out, a beaming grin crossing his face at the sight of you. "The mastermind behind our win!”

From across the room, Remus raised an eyebrow and glanced at James, giving him a knowing look. He missed it entirely since he was too busy staring at you. Sirius' eyes twinkled with mirth as he greeted you with a mock salute to break the ice.

You shook your head, “No. That was all you guys. Congratulations. You played really well, cleanest game in a while.”

“Cleanest game I’d seen. Well, up until Kaston got his blood all over the field-”

“Padfoot, out. Now.” Remus just groaned silently, ensuring you and James that they would see you later as he pulled a pouting Sirius out of the infirmary. 

For the past hour, you hadn’t been able to get your brain to shut off. Memories had been playing on a loop, plaguing your mind with images of James’s head snapping back or the glob of blood tinged spit landing in the grass at your feet. 

But now, standing there in front of him, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. 

You expelled all of the air from your cheeks just so there was sound before dropping down on the edge of the bed. A sudden urge to reach out and touch him shot through your nerves, insisting that you brush the hair from his forehead, to trace his split lip with your fingertip. Purple ebbed along his knuckles, matching the purple on the bridge of his nose under the frames of his glasses. 

“I think this was proof enough that you truly are the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.”

His shoulders sagged in relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, despite the pain that still coursed through him. He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes shining with warmth. You did the same, peeking up at him from your lashes to confirm some of the tension had broken. 

Your quiet voices carried along the stone, the empty infirmary lacking any audience. Kaston must’ve been recovering separately to prevent any more altercation. 

"What can I say," he shrugged, an easy grin spreading across his face, "if I'm going to get myself into trouble, I at least want to make it memorable."

“Oh, I’m aware.” You leaned over him to pick the half melted ice pack up from the table, tossing it between your hands absentmindedly. “How much detention did you get?”

"Oh, you know me, just a week's worth. Got an earful of it from Minnie.” He reached over and snatched the ice pack from your hands and placed it back on his shoulder, wincing at the cold. “Just her usual ‘hitting is wrong even if deserved’ and ‘leaning more on your back leg will land a harder hit’.”

There was more damage hidden under his sweater, the sling on the end table was evidence of that. You grimaced at the sight, guilt tugging the smile on your face into a frown. He’d really gotten hurt at the end of the match, hitting and getting hit in front of the entire school. 

You looked down and sighed, “Sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. That was… oh god… that was bad and you shouldn’t be sitting here like this.”

James shook his head instantly, looking somber as he scooted down the bed to sit next to you. 

“Hey, don’t apologize. I wanted to hit him, and he deserves it, honestly. He’s a prick. I should’ve done it before."

His hip brushed your lower back as he settled closer. your breath would’ve caught in your throat but you were too distracted by him reaching out to touch your chin. You let him nudge your head in his direction, reluctantly meeting his eye, unable to look away. 

“Can’t say I’m not jealous,” you snorted softly. “I’ve been itching to hit him since first year.”

Not trusting yourself, you kept your hands clasped together in your lap, attempting to suppress the urge to touch him back.

"Jealous? No need to be. I'd be happy to lend you my services any time. Just say the word, and I'll hold him down so you can land a hit or two.”

And then he smiled. 

Your stomach did that thing, a flipping sensation that you always associated with nose diving on your broom. Pulling up at the last second kept you from smashing every bone in your body. The risk only made the thrill more intense the longer you could go before giving in. 

Right then, you were well aware that you were horribly and irrevocably fucked.

James' hand didn’t fall away when you looked down at the comforter. He only secured the home of his touch on your face, cupping your jaw with the faintest of touches. 

“Congratulations, by the way,” you said after a long second, voice softening unsurely under his stare. 

"For what? The fight or the win?" he asked, ducking his head to try and meet your eye. James got quieter as he found it harder to bite down his smile. "For being so great?" 

You rolled your eyes but the flat look you tried to give him was far too fond to do any damage. All it did was make you aware of how close the two of you were. 

“All three. It was great,” I breathed out, leaning into his hand as we sat side by side on the edge of the infirmary bed. “It was really great.”

"Not as great as seeing you in my jersey." His hand on your cheek grew firmer as he allowed himself to feel the warmth of your skin against his fingertips.

Your head was beginning to spin, thoughts tangled in a dizzying mess of questions and desires. But amid the chaos, one thing remained clear: you enjoyed being with him, more than you ever had thought possible.

James Potter had an ego the size of a lake, but a heart to match.

James’s leg dangled off the edge of the infirm bed, the toe on his hightop grazing your own. The other was tucked under him, adding more contact between his shin and your thigh. The two of you had spent the past two months bumping elbows, his chest brushing against your back when he’d lean from behind you to read something over your shoulder. 

At the beginning of the year, his touch made you tense, you’d hold your breath until the moment passed. Along the way, it stopped feeling like your heart was thrown off the top of the astronomy tower as you formed a routine together. 

This was different. This was intentional. 

You wondered if he could feel how hot your face was under his palm. It was almost embarrassing, how you felt like one of the first year girls that would giggle with their friends as he ran past. It would’ve been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good. So you leaned your head into his hand.

“You make no sense. It’s like, anytime I think I have you figured out, I realize I have you all wrong, again.”

With a cocky grin, he leaned in towards you, his face mere inches from yours. "Ah, but that's what makes me interesting, isn’t it?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Keeps you on your toes, keeps you guessing. I'm a complete mystery. I don't even understand myself sometimes." 

You scoffed and he leaned a bit closer, the warmth of his breath now brushing against your cheek. "But isn't that what makes me so fascinating?”

“I still think the most fascinating thing about you is how you manage to get your massive head in the air with your broom,” you murmured.

“Oh, you thought my head was big before? Just wait until you see how big it is after I do this.”

James closed the distance, his mouth finding yours with ease. His thumb slid under your chin to tilt your head back, allowing him to lean further over you. 

You’d had your fair share of kisses over the past few years, but none had ever felt like this. This was like drinking liquid luck until you got sick. You gripped his collar, pulling yourself closer and he was happy to wrap an arm around your waist to tug you closer. 

Every sense was heightened, the touch of his mouth sending your mind spiraling. Everything faded away, the world narrowing down to the feeling of his tongue swiping your bottom lip, the slight weight of his hand resting against the side of your neck, the sound of your own uneven breaths.

This was what it must have been like to taste the sun. It was like laying under an open window and basking in the early morning light on the first day of summer. Tangling your hands in his hair was like growing roots into the earth as it orbited around the sun.

You were burning alive and nothing had ever felt better. 

The two of you pulled back after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, your breathing ragged and eyes wide. You searched his face for any sign of dislike and were ecstatic when you couldn’t even imagine what that would like on his face. 

Not when the two of you were breaking into smiles. 

If you had thought James Potter glowed before, now he was blinding.

“Yeah,” he drew out and brushed your hair behind your ear. “I’m about to be insufferable now that I’ve finally done that.”

quid pro quo master list here

[glittervame]

You're just like him

"You're a filthy cheater"

This post is going to be part of the Hogmarch Fandom challenge by @thatdammchickennugget check it out if you want to know more! I didn't proofread so sorry for the spelling errors or if it doesn't make any sense, love ya! <3

Oliver wood x Fem!Reader Warnings: Angst (No named person), Fred and George being little shits, Smut, this has basically no plot it's all over the place

The sun was setting, painting the sky a fiery orange as it dipped below the horizon. The air was thick with anticipation, and the stands were packed to the brim with students, all of them clad in their house colors. It was the final Quidditch match of the season, and the fate of the House Cup hung in the balance. Gryffindor and Slytherin, two of the most talented and determined teams in recent memory, were set to face off in what promised to be a brutal and intense battle.

As the players took to the pitch, Oliver and Y/n locked eyes for a brief moment. There was a flicker of something in their gaze, a mixture of determination, anger, and perhaps even a hint of desire. They knew that this match wasn't just about winning the House Cup; it was also about proving their worth to each other.

The game began with a blur of broomsticks and flying balls, both teams moving at breakneck speed. Oliver and Y/n circled each other like two snarling animals, the two captains waiting for the other to make a mistake. It wasn't long before the tension between them boiled over. During a tight turn, Oliver aggressively rammed into Y/n, sending her spiraling out of control. The crowd gasped as she careened toward the ground, but at the last moment, Oliver leaned forward on his broom, reaching out a hand.

Y/n snarled, baring her teeth, but grabbed onto Oliver's hand. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and for a brief moment, they were locked together. The crowd grew silent as they stared at the two captains, their eyes locked in a fierce battle of wills. Finally, with a jerk, Oliver pulled Y/n back onto her broom, and they continued the game.

But the tension between them only grew. Every time Oliver passed her, he'd throw her a venomous glare, daring her to try something. And every time Y/n would brush against him, she'd feel the heat emanating from his skin, the thunder of his heartbeat. The air around them crackled with anger and desire, and the game began to take on a new intensity.

The final score was close, with Gryffindor barely eking out a victory. As the Snitch flew into the hands of the Gryffindor seeker, the crowd erupted into cheers, Y/n barely registered the noise. She dismounted her broom as the Gryffindors flood onto the field, congratulating their team. Her eyes met Oliver's once more, and this time there was no anger, no desire. There was only hatred.

She stormed off the field, not bothering to wait for the post-game ceremony. She started barking orders at her team, her voice cold and hard as ice. But underneath the surface, she was seething. Oliver's touch had thrown her off balance, made her feel things she didn't want to feel. He had won, and now she wanted nothing more than to make him pay.

As the Gryffindors filed back into the castle, Oliver couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He glanced over his shoulder, searching for Y/n, but she was nowhere to be found. He shrugged it off, figuring she was just angry about the loss. He didn't realize how right he was until he reached the common room and found her waiting for him in the shadows.

Her eyes were blazing, her chest heaving with anger. "You think you're so great, don't you?" she spat. "You think you can just take what you want?" Oliver stared at her, confused. "I don't know what you're talking about, Y/n," he said, taking a step back. "I just played a clean game."

"Don't lie to me!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls. "You know exactly what you did. You pushed me off my broom, just like third year all over agian! You made me feel weak. You made me look weak" - she paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing - "in front of everyone!"

Oliver felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to hurt her, hadn't meant to make her feel that way. But he couldn't admit it now. Not with her standing there, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "I was just playing the game, Y/n," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's not personal."

She laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Of course it's not personal," she scoffed. "That's why you've been looking at me like that all day. That's why you've been trying to get under my skin." Her gaze bored into him, searching for some sign of weakness. "You're just as bad as he was. Just as arrogant and just as cruel."

The mention of him sent a shiver down Oliver's spine. He knew who she was talking about: the boy who had bullied them both for years, the boy who had made them feel helpless and alone. He was the reason Oliver had joined the Gryffindor quidditch team in the first place, the reason he had become the captain he was today. "I'm not him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not like him."

But she didn't believe him. "You are," she insisted. "Using whatever you can for a fucking win, you're just as obsessed with quidditch as he was, gods, if you wern't such a goody two shoes you would've let Fred and George get rid of half of my team with that stupid candy!" Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, Oliver felt a pang of guilt so sharp it took his breath away.

Fith year Fred anf George had gotten themselves some extra zonko's candy and diped it in a boils potion to prank the slytherins. They mailed it for the team before a match but some of the first years had gotten to it first. The next coupple of weeks you could tell exactly who ate the candy by the scaring on the kids arms before Madam Pompfrey heald it.

He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her that it hadn't been his intention to hurt her. That he had just been trying to play a fair game. But something held him back. Maybe it was the memory of the way she had looked at him, her expression filled with such hatred and anger. Maybe it was the fear of pushing her further away. Whatever it was, he remained silent.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy like a curtain. Oliver could feel her gaze boring into him, could see the anger radiating from her every pore. He knew that if he didn't say something soon, this moment would become a permanent rift between them. But what could he possibly say that would make things better?

"If you had won fair and square this wouldn't be such a big deal Wood-" calling him by his last name stung, "but, you made me look like a fool in front of my house, and my parents, gods, I hope you're happy with yourself Wood, You're a filthy fucking cheater" she hissed, tears falling down her cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice them.

Oliver winced at the sound of his last name on her lips. He hated the way it made him feel, like he was just a reminder of everything she had gone through. He took a step forward, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but then thought better of it. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said quietly. "It's just a game, Y/n. We both know it's not personal."

She laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Of course it's not personal," she snorted. "That's why you pushed me off my broom. That's why you kept knocking me down. It's all just a big game to you." Her gaze darted around the room, her eyes wild with anger and hurt. "But it's not just a game to me. It's my life." She takes in a sharp breath, "I have a legacy to live up to Wood; and you just got in my way"

Ah yes, Slytherins and their bloodlines...Y/n family had come from powerfull witches and wizards. Purebloods. After going to hogwarts they had either gon to work in a powerful position (Mostly her dads side) or playing for a Quidditch team (Moms side). It was in her blood to do great things and everyone knew that, makeing the pressure to live up to that alot bigger.

Oliver felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He really hadn't. But he couldn't help but feel that she didn't understand. Quidditch wasn't just his life; it was the only thing he had ever been good at. It was the one thing that had kept him going after everything he had been through. And now that he was finally captain, he couldn't just let some rival team come along and take it away from him.

He opened his mouth to try and explain, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he forced a small smile. "Look, I get it. Quidditch means a lot to you. It means a lot to me too. But we both know we can't change what happened out there today. All we can do is move forward and try to be better." He took another step forward, his voice softening. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Y/n. I really am. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Find me later Wood" and with that she turned on her heels and walked away. He took that as a small win, she didn't yell at him or hex him either.

The next time their paths crossed was at a Slytherin common room party, a few weeks later. It wasn't a formal event, just a get-together with some friends from different houses. Oliver knew Y/n was going to be there, and he had debated whether or not to show up himself. In the end, he decided that he owed it to her to try and make amends, even if it was just a little.

He spotted her across the room, laughing with a group of her friends. She looked beautiful, as always, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. For a moment, Oliver felt a pang of regret for the way things had gone between them. He wished he could go back in time and change it, make things better. But he knew that was impossible. All he could do now was try to move forward.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to walk over to her. "Hey, Y/n," he said, trying to sound casual. "Mind if I, uh, join you?"

She looked up, her expression guarded. "I suppose," she said slowly. "What do you want, Wood? Why's the little lion wondering around the snake den?"

Oliver winced inwardly at the way she said his last name. It was like a dagger to the heart. "Look, I just wanted to apologize again for what happened during the match. I shouldn't have pushed you off your broom. It was a stupid move, and I regret it." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I know we're both competitive, but there's no need for things to get personal."

Y/n studied him for a moment, her expression softening just the tiniest bit. "You know, Oliver, I've been thinking about what you said. You're right. There's no need for it to be personal. We're both just trying to do our best, you know?" She looked away, playing with the hem of her dress. "I guess I've been acting like a jerk, too. I'm sorry for that."

Oliver felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He hadn't expected her to be so understanding. "Thanks, Y/n. I really appreciate that. And I'm sorry for pushing things too far. I just got caught up in the heat of the moment, you know?" He paused, chuckling softly. "We're both a bit intense, I guess."

She laughed, the sound musical and genuine. "That we are. But I think we can both be better than that. We're both better than what we've been doing." Her expression turned more serious. "We're both good Quidditch players, Oliver. We both have a lot to offer. So let's just focus on that, okay?"

You know what they say, kiss and make up right?

The time they met after that was when slytherin had overbooked the quidditch pitch and Oliver was pissed off, as was his team. He had just gotten done telling the head of the house how they were supposed to practice if they couldn't get the pitch when he heard a soft voice calling out to him. It was Y/n.

"Little lion got here a little to late?" she fake pouts, "That's too bad" she shrugs and sits on the edge of the pitch. "Sorry for over booking the pitch, we were training our new seeker" she crooned, "Our last one got a little sick…" The two slytherins behind her snicker.

Someone "accedently" put a few drops of eye drops in his pumkin juice early this week...

"Well, I hope they feel better soon," Oliver says, his tone neutral. "I'm sure we can work something out. Maybe we could practice together or something. That way, we can both get the time we need." He hesitates, then adds, "You know, if you want."

Y/n raised an eyebrow at him, her expression amused. "Oh? And what makes you think I'd want to practice with you, Wood?" She glanced at the two boys behind her, and they both sniggered again. "I'm sure we can manage just fine on our own."

Oliver grinned, feeling a little more confident now. "Oh, I'm sure you can. But I'm also sure that we could both learn a thing or two from each other. We're both good players, after all." He paused, then continued, "And it might be nice to get to know each other better, outside of the context of Quidditch."

Y/n considered his words for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "Hmm…you might have a point there," she admitted reluctantly, "Now that I think about it though, less time you have to practice, bigger chance for us to win the cup" she grins, "Better luck next time" she pats his shoulder before walking away. George whispered to Fred swearing that he could see steam coming out of Olivers ears.

The quidditch locker room was a mess, as usual. Broken wands and battered bludgers littered the floor, and the stench of sweat and worn leather hung in the air like a thick, suffocating fog. Y/n L/n, captain of the Slytherin team, sighed heavily as she sat down on one of the benches, her long hair falling over her face as she tugged at the collar of her sweat-soaked shirt. It had been a long day, and the season was only halfway through. She glanced around, noticing that Oliver R/lastname, captain of the Gryffindor team, was still in the locker room as well. They'd had a particularly brutal match that day, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the sight of him.

But before she could gather her thoughts, Oliver stood up from his own bench and started walking towards her. He looked just as tired and disheveled as she felt, and there was something in his expression that made her heart skip a beat. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, as he stopped in front of her and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Hey, L/n," he murmured softly. "You okay?"

For a moment, Y/n couldn't speak. Her brain felt like it had turned to mush, and her heart was racing. She knew they shouldn't be doing this, but she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Finally, she managed to croak out a reply. "I'm… fine." Oliver's eyes searched hers, his expression intense. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and husky. And before she could respond, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

She could feel his erection pressed against her, and the realization sent a shiver down her spine. It had been so long since she'd been with anyone, and Oliver was the last person she expected to find herself wanting. But there was something about the way he kissed her, so desperate and demanding, that made her ache for him in a way she'd never thought possible. Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. He moaned into the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers, and she couldn't help but melt into his embrace.

As they kissed, their hands roamed over each other's bodies, seeking out pleasure in the heat of the moment. Oliver's fingers traced a path down her spine, making her shiver, while she gripped his hair, pulling him closer still. She could feel his erection pressing harder against her, and she knew she had to do something about it. She broke the kiss for a moment, panting heavily, and looked into his eyes. His pupils were so dilated she could hardly see the green. "Oliver," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I want you."

Without waiting for his reply, she straddled his lap, feeling the heat of his body against hers. Oliver's hands found their way to her breasts, kneading them through her sweat-soaked shirt. He groaned, and Y/n arched her back, reveling in the sensation. She reached down, unfastened his pants, and pulled his erection free. Oliver gasped as she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him slowly. She leaned forward, kissing him again, and guided his length towards her. He thrust forward, pushing himself inside her, and she cried out, feeling him stretch her tightly.

They moved together in a frenzy, their bodies slamming together in time with their ragged breathing. The pain was replaced by a white-hot pleasure that coursed through her veins, making her lightheaded. Oliver's fingers dug into her hips, his nails leaving tiny half-moon marks in her skin. She could feel herself getting closer and closer, the orgasm building inside her, threatening to explode. And then, finally, it hit her, washing over her in a wave of pure ecstasy. She arched her back, crying out his name as her inner walls squeezed him in a powerful spasm. Oliver followed her over the edge, his body tense as he let out a hoarse cry and emptied himself inside her.

They collapsed together on the bench, panting heavily. The tension that had been building between them for weeks seemed to dissipate in that moment, leaving only the afterglow of their passionate encounter. Oliver reached up to wipe the sweat from her forehead, his fingers trailing down her cheek before coming to rest on her chin. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry I had to wait until now."

Y/n smiled up at him, feeling a shiver of desire run through her. "It was worth the wait," she whispered, running her fingers through his messy hair. "And we still have the rest of the season, you know." At that, Oliver laughed, a deep, throaty sound that made her heart skip a beat. "God, I can't wait to see what else you have in store for me," he said, kissing her softly.

Y/n knew she was utterly fucked. Her and Oliver? Fucked. Hell She just fucked Oliver.

🌟-I'll work on your request soon!

It's 3:50 right now and I have to leave for a trip in a few hours so i'll be away from my computer for a while!

Love you my children -💙

[gaianyx]

The Slytherin Party

By Jane F. Nyx

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: At the monthly Slytherin Party there is only one rule. No Gryffindors aloud, except for a pair of twins. What happens when one of those twins happens to be your good friend and latest 'one-night stand'?

W/C: 1.1k

A/N: Based on the 'Hogwarts Party' tiktoks. Feedbacks and tips will be well received :)) Proof read. No use of (y/n).

Happy reading everyone!

The first thing to be heard was the sound of a muffled song blasting through speakers when I got closer to the 'door', the girl's unused bathroom.

Two Slytherin boys were watching the door, so I walked up to them, my trusty bag with all the goodies inside kept closer to me.

"I brought the puff Blaize ordered," I said, showing the boys my bag. 

They opened the door for me to enter.

The loud sound of music becomes much clearer. People dancing, drinking and singing around. Almost every student from every house was there. The monthly Slytherin Party became a tradition.

No Gryffindors aloud. Hufflepuffs, the bakers and herbologists. The Ravenclaws, the potions and spells makers, were always welcome. And of course, no Slytherin could go through a party without their emotional support Hufflepuff buddy next to them.

I walked through the cloud of people trying to find the right ones. That's when I saw them, standing next to what looked like a potion Fontaine.

Blaize Zabini, who had Luna Lovegood leaning on his shoulder. And Mattheo Riddle, with Dove Jackson, aka my best friend, by his side.

I quickened my pace to talk to them.

-"Hey, love! How is it going?" Dove asked when I approached her group.

-"I'm doing good," I responded, "Brought the stuff, made this morning," I showed them all the bag and gave a smaller one that was inside to Zabini who gladly accepted it.

-"Did I ever tell you you're the best?" Zabini asked, passing the bag to Luna to give it to her fellow potion makers.

-"No need to, I already knew that," I laughed at the last part. Dove and Luna then took both of my arms for us to leave the boys and do some business.

We were dressed for the night, Dove wearing a dark green tight dress to match her house. Luna a white cocktail dress with glitter that fit her style perfectly. And me, my favourite, blood red dress.

We had just started to hand out the potions when they walked in...

The Weasley twins.

I quickly turned to Luna and Dove, grabbing them by their arms.

"You told me he wasn't invited," my voice sounded much more like a grunt, after the new discovery.

-"Well, we didn't invite them," Luna said with her calm tone, "Maybe Mattheo did. He was talking to Blaize the other day about some candy he had ordered for the party,".

Of course they did.

There was only one exception to the 'No Gryffindors Rule'. And that exception happened to be George and Fred Weasley.

And Fred Weasley happened to be my one party date/flow/thing/I don't know what happened that night.

Since then things became weird between us. I was drunk that night, he was drunk that night and we both had smoked a bit. So I don't know how much of it was real.

Yes, there was tension before that. But nothing more than Fred being a flirt. He was just a flirtatious person.

We were both dealers so it was made to happen that we would meet at any party soon. But I didn't know it would take only a week time.

"Looking good, sweetheart!" was the first thing I heard leaving that pretty mouth of his.

I felt two gentle ticks on my shoulder, so I turned around.

The one only Fred Weasley.

He was a little taller than me so I needed to look a bit up to see his face.

And God, did he look good tonight.

Black button-up shirt and dark blue jeans, the first two buttons of his shirt open leaving room for imagination.

Luna and Dove had disappeared, leaving me and Fred alone...

-"Hello, Weasley!" I gathered the courage to talk. "What are you doing here?" I already knew the answer, but everything was better than silence. Even tho we were at a party full of people.

-"Same as you," he said "Just business," Fred pointed at George who had handed a little bag to Mattheo and Blaize.

-"I see..." I didn't know what to say, did he even remember everything that happened last party?

-"I was actually hoping you would be here tonight," he said taking one step closer. I could smell the familiar scent of cinnamon and wood.

The same smell that felt so intoxicating the last time. The same smell that made me wanting for more and wished the night didn't end the way it did.

Both of us were just too scared, scared to take the next step and admit that what we had wasn't only rivalry between dealers, that it wasn't only the friendship we had built, that it wasn't only the flirting and shared glancings.

That it wasn't only me and him, but maybe a us.

He took another step closer, he was looking down into my eyes and I was looking into his.

-"You also look good tonight," a small laugh escaped Fred's lips and a smile appeared in mine.

A slower song started to play. It might have been destiny, but in any way, it happened.

-"Would you like to dance?" Fred asked, "Promise I won't run away this time," he smiled at the last part remembering the chaotic night you guys had had.

-"Yes," and there I was. Once again at the arms of Fred Weasley swaying to a slow song, my hands on his shoulder and his hands on my waist.

-"You know," Fred was talking in a much lower tone now, almost a whisper, "I don't regret the last party, nor do I regret kissing you, the only thing I regret was leaving you afterwards,".

-"Freddie..." I felt my cheeks heating up, "We were drunk," there I was once again blaming everything on the alcohol and the weed. Completely ignoring my feelings and second-guessing the whole thing.

-"I only drank that much to take the courage and finally hit up on you and admit that what I feel for you is much more than friends should feel for each other," his eyes seemed to spark, and I couldn't stop looking at them.

We were in a trance, completely forgetting the world around us.

"And I hope, that you feel the same about this redhead right here," there was hope in his eyes, but there was also fear.

-"What I feel for you is much more than friends should feel," I said, my heart racing, "And I don't regret anything. Not at all, the only thing I regret is that it ended,".

And he kissed me.

But not for the last time.

A/N: If you enjoyed this post please don't forget to like and reblog <3333 Thank you for reading!

Requests: open

See you in the next chapter!

xoxo Jane

[bubblegump-1-nk]

As She Walks By

this is my first time writing for Theodore about so bare with me please.

summary: Theodore and you are just best friends (or not), but when he finally hooks up with the Hufflepuff girl who’s had a crush on him for years, things may start to change

based off of the song Heather by Conan Gray (a little bit), set in three perspectives: yours, Theos, and the Hufflepuff girl (an OC I called Althenea Circ). I made you a Gryffindor but if you want to change your house just imagine whatever house I want.

warnings: insecurity, angst, not really cheating but idk, typos probably, cussing, toxic relationships (these warnings apply to the upcoming parts so you might not see some of them in some of the parts, if that makes sense) I think that’s all but tell me if you find anything else pls!

I was in my dorm getting ready for dinner after a long day of school. I had had 3 tests and 2 pop quizzes, I were certain that wasn’t even legal. I took my time as I brushed and braided my hair, since Hermione was telling me an interesting story.

“… and then the girl, the Slytherin I was telling you about before, threw her wand at Seamus. And I mean threw it at him. He had to go to the hospital wing after.”

I burst out laughing, which made Hermione laugh, which then only made me laugh harder. In the midst of our laughing, my other dorm mate, Lavender walked in.

“What are you two silly’s laughing at this time.” She said, smiling as she could hear you’re laughter all the way down from the common room.

“Hermione was just telling me about Seamus encounter with Cat Griffens.” I managed to get out in between laughs.

“Oh my god, that was hilarious. His face after she hit him with her wand was priceless!” She said, giggling at the image in her head.

We sat and laughed some more until we began to get even hungrier than we had been before and decided to head down to the Great Hall. On our way down the corridors which led to the delicious buffet that was awaiting us, we heard rackets of laughter behind us. I turned around, since I recognized the cacophony immediately, and sure enough it belonged to Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott.

“Damn it, we were trying to scare you.” Said Mattheo, defeated face after I discovered them.

“God, you guys really need to work on your sneaking skills.” I said, giggling.

“Oh come on, our sneaking skills are great.” Said Theo, putting his arm over my shoulder as him and Riddle caught up with me and the two other Gryffindors.

“If that’s great then Snape is the kindest teacher at Hogwarts.” Said Hermione, giggling at the boys antics.

“Alright then, why don’t you find me some library books to study then.” Theo said, teasing her and he lightly pulled a piece of her hair, causing Hermione to laughingly slap his hand away.

“And you Lavender, what do you rate our skills?” Asked Mattheo, having noticed how quiet she got as soon as they showed up.

She blushed and sheepishly said “I think they’re great.”

The two boys looked at each other and laughed at her response, obviously knowing that she found them very attractive.

I poked Theo’s side at his response to Lavender, noticing she had gotten even redder after they laughed at her.

I tried to ease the tension by saying “You two are only laughing because you know she’s lying.”

“Well then, maybe we’ll have to pull out the Veritaserum at the Slytherin party tomorrow!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. What time should we get there.” Hermione asks.

“Well, for our VIP guests you two can get there as early as you want.” Said Theo.

I rolled my eyes playfully at him and soon enough I had entered the dining hall.

Theo unsnaked his arm from around my shoulders and playfully kissed the top of my head, which caused me to lightly slap his shoulder. Mattheo and him jogged over to the Slytherin table, their laughter being heard all around the dinner room.

Hermione and I went over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, already mostly done with their plates.

“What was that all about?” Asked Ron.

“What was what all about?” I responded.

“Oh you know, the kiss and the arm around your shoulders. Last time I checked you two were just friends.” He responded.

“And why do you care so much Ronald.” Hermione asked sternly.

“I don’t! Just confused on the whole Theo-y/n relationship.” He said which made Harry nod intently in agreement.

“We’re just friends. Anyway, Slytherin party tomorrow at 8.” I responded. Me myself trying to convince myself that that’s all I thought of Theo, because I knew he didn’t feel the same way about me.

“Fraternizing with the enemy I see.” Said Harry playfully.

“I thought you and Draco had worked things out in like, third year.” I said, loading my plate up with pasta.

“We did, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still a git.” He said, finishing off his cup of pumpkin juice.

Us four continued to talk and eat, and then eventually walked back to the common room together to hang out until finally going our separate ways to our dorm rooms.

-the next day-

I woke up to Hermione shaking me awake.

“Whattt.” I said groggily, rolling around as to try to get away from Hermione’s shaking.

“Come on y/n, we have to go know if we want some breakfast.”

“Ugh, fine.” I said, slowly opening my eyes and getting up.

I got ready for the day, and packed my schoolbooks for this Friday’s classes. Hermione and I walked to breakfast (Ron and Harry had eaten early so they could finish a potions essay they had forgotten about). We ate quickly before heading down to the dungeons for class with Professor Snape.

I walked into the almost full classroom, and made my way to my shared table with Hermione, right behind Theo and Draco.

“Wow, no good morning for us?” Said Theo playfully.

“It’s too early to be nice.” I said, putting my head down for some attempt at extra sleep.

“Wow, I see how it is.” Said Theo chuckling.

….

The day ended quicker than I was expecting and before I knew it, Hermione and I were getting ready for the party in our dorm.

“What do you three think of this?” I asked Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati, wearing a red corset and a little black skirt.

“I think Theo’s going to love it” Parvati said with a wink.

I huffed and threw a book at her, which she dodged.

The girls started laughing and Hermione said, “Oh right, we forgot, it’s Mattheo isn’t it?” Which caused the girls to laugh even more.

“You guys are so annoying!” I said playfully, trying not to giggle.

“Well I think you look great, y/n.” Lavender said.

I thanked her and finished doing my makeup and hair, which I had put in some hair rollers.

“Well you three have fun, I’ll just be here finishing this damn Transfigurations project.” Said Lavender, annoyed she couldn’t attend the party with her friends.

“We’ll miss you Lav.” I said, the other girls agreeing with me as we walked out of the common room, meeting Ron and Harry, as we all walked towards the dungeons.

-Theo’s POV-

I sat on the couch with Mattheo, looking at the entrance every time I heard it open, hoping it was y/n. But it hasn’t been you, not yet. I wondered what was taking you so long, because you could show up in sweatpants and a shirt covered in pasta sauce and you’d still be more beautiful than all the girls in this room. The door opened again, and this time I knew it was you, because I heard your church bell laugh bouncing off the walls. I turned around quickly to look at you entering the enlarged common room.

“And then…” Draco began, cutting himself of after seeing my sudden uninterest in his story.

The cutoff caused all the boys who had been listening to Draco turn to me, and then turn to what I was looking at.. you, of course.

“Oh come on Theo.” Said Draco, exhausted with my interest in you.

“What?” I said, turning around again, trying to play it off.

“Just go fuck her already.” Said Blaise.

“It’s not like that! You’re all a bunch of gits.” I said, annoyed because I had been caught.

“Why are they a bunch of gits?” You said, appearing at my side with Hermione, Harry and Ron having gone off to get drinks.

I gulped and my palms were sweaty, “Well, uh, they were just making fun of me.. because, er, because I don’t..” I trailed off, eyes darting to my friends for help.

“We were making fun of him because he won’t do more than two rounds of shots.” Matthew said, noticing my panic.

“Oh Teddy, you have much to learn.” You said, your sweet voice and the sweet nickname intoxicating me.

“Don’t call me Teddy.” I said, quickly fixing myself after I almost dropped his act.

“You know you love it, Teddy.” You said, laughing.

“Got your drinks.” Harry said, handing you a fire whiskey whilst Ron handed Hermione some kind of drink.

“Thanks guys.” You say, taking a drink from the cup.

“Well, Hermione and I are going to go dance. You all have fun.” You say, grabbing Hermione’s hand as you walk away to the dance floor.

I stare at you more intently than ever, I had no idea how someone could be so beautiful. And what makes it even worse is that I’m not the only one who sees it. I can see all the guys, trying hard not to stare at you for the sake of their girlfriends, and I can also see the guys who have no shame in hungrily raking their eyes over your body. None of those guys deserve you, none of them could treat you like I would. No one could make you feel as good as I could. My wild imagination is cut off by Blaise’s inaudible voice

“Er.. sorry what was that?” I ask.

“I said, Draco and I are going to go and get drinks. Do you want anything?” Blaise asked again.

“Er, I don’t know. Just give me the strongest thing there is.”

“Alright mate.” Blaise says, shocked at my choice.

“Uh oh mate, looks like someone forgot about you.” Mattheo whispers to me, lightly chuckling.

I looks at him confused, then I follow Mattheo’s eyes to you… and Dean Thomas. Hermione long gone, probably hooking up with that Ravenclaw girl she’s been obsessing over to me. Dean was saying something that invoked your beautiful laughter. His arm was snaked around your waist, your waist that would look so good.. maybe I shouldn’t think about you like that. Why was I so mad? You and I were just friends, we’ve always been just that.

“Here you are mate. It’s some brew the Weasley twins made so be careful” Blaise said, tapping my shoulder and handing me a red cup full of an unknown liquid. I grabbed it and downed the cup in 2 gulps, never taking my eyes off of you and that fucker Dean.

“Wow, slow down. Don’t want to end up like last time.” Draco said, some blonde attached to his hip.

I flipped Draco off before plopping myself down on the couch. I tried hard not to look at you and.. goddamn you and Dean were snogging like a bunch of animals. I turned around and saw someone’s eyes on mine. I turned to her fully, her eyes swiftly leaving mine as I turned to her. Althenea Circ, I think her name was. According to Mattheo she’s been practically in love with me since 3rd year. I don’t know if it was the jealousy or the mystery drink, probably a mix of both, which caused me to walk over to her.

Before I knew it we were in a corner, snogging just like you and Dean.

-The next morning-

“Pass me the eggs.” I said to Draco as I loaded my plate with bacon. Hopefully the salty food would make my hang over go away, and the awful memory of having hooked up with that Hufflepuff girl.

“Easy on the bacon mate. We all want some.” Said Mattheo, wearing a pair of sunglasses, he’s always so dramatic.

“It refills magically you fucking idiot.” I said, annoyed at his antics.

“Damn, no need to be so damn rude just because you hooked up with that nasty girl yesterday.” Mattheo said, grabbing bacon off my plate.

I slapped his hands away, sending him a glare.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.” I said.

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in love. What’s y/n going to say?”

“Just shut the fuck up. And I’m not in love it’s just rude to talk about someone that way.” I said, biting off a piece of my toast.

The four of us were silent and tense for about 10 minutes, eating our breakfast and trying to forget about how much we all drank last night, until we were interrupted.

“Hi Theo!” Said Alth… oh god I forgot her name.

“Er.. hi.” I said, looking up.

“Would you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me later today? We could go for lunch.” The girl said, her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard compared to your beautiful, sunshine voice I was used to hearing. I sat there for a few beats before responding, astonished that a girl like her would ever think that a boy like me would want to be around her. But I couldn’t say no, it would be too mean. Plus, I could finally pretend to be over you.

“Sure.”

part 2 coming (mayb) soon 😋

[ryanwrites05]

June 21 - Slytherin

@hinnymicrofic

A/N: I’ve had this scene in mind for a longer 8th year and post-Hogwarts fic (and ultimately postwar Hinny series) I have been working on. Context here is that Harry is (somewhat against his choice) currently back at Hogwarts for 8th year, and he and Ginny have unresolved stuff going on.

Content warnings: language/f-bombs directed at Harry for, once again, not thinking something through

“Slytherin”

The portrait hole barely opened and he could already feel the tension in the room. He should have expected the reaction, really.

With Auror classes and his own training and studying, he just sort of forgot that he hadn’t actually told anyone else after the conversation with McGonagall, Hooch, Cho and Daphne. It was only yesterday after all.

Plus, he’d been giving her space like she wanted, or so he rationalized. But he knew he should have bucked up the courage and told her directly after McGonagall gave the okay. In hindsight, before would have been better.

But he didn’t. And that was a mistake.

Upon entering the Common Room, he looked around and found Hermione looking at him exasperatedly. Ron was standing awkwardly next to her by the fire, giving him his best you fucked up now look. Peakes and Coote were huddled near with Demelza and Sophie, all avoiding his eye, the cowards.

Then his eyes caught hers and he knew he was in deep trouble.

Definitely should have run it by her before.

Her face hardened immediately, eyes flashing. She took the last few steps down the stairway in one jump and crossed the room quickly.

Hands on her hips that even with her short stature oddly reminded him of Mrs. Weasley, she let him have it.

“WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?!”

He blinked at her lamely. “I…”

“SLYTHERIN?! YOU’RE FLYING FOR SLYTHERIN?!”

“They don’t have anyone…”, he retorted, but it had little effect.

“I DON’T CARE IF THEY HAD TO SIGN UP THE DAMN BLOODY BARON UP HIMSELF!”

It was plain for anyone to see the anger, the real hurt was much more hidden. He took a step forward and reached out, but her wary eyes and half step back made him pause. He lowered his voice.

“I know what this means to you, Gin.”

“DON’T-“

But, he pressed on quickly. “And I want that for you - I do. But they don’t have anyone. They could barely field a team this year, considering everything. And with Astoria now out, Hooch was going to make them forfeit…”

It was true, Slytherin house barely had over thirty students this year, and eight of them were first years. Malfoy disappeared, and so many others connected to Death Eaters. It was a minor miracle that Slytherin house could even field a team.

In truth, despite those disadvantages, Slytherin had done all right. Gryffindor had won all their matches, of course. Ginny had been nothing short of spectacular, in addition to a fantastic captain. Watching her fly was a thing of beauty, not that that was necessarily new information to him.

But, Ravenclaw had flown well too, and if Ravenclaw won the match by 200 points or more, they would win the Cup, and a Slytherin forfeit only nets them 170. If he caught the snitch early, then Gryffindor wins it all. But if Ravenclaw pulls further ahead or he doesn’t catch it….well.

He knew how much Ginny wanted to win the Cup, what with the professional quidditch tryouts looming and scouts at every match.

“It’s not right,” he continued after a moment. “They don’t deserve that…”.

He had tried to find ways to reach out to Slytherins since the start of the year - to somehow show that he didn’t think all of them were Death Eaters. But they were just as untrusting of him, if not more so, than others were of them. It was all part of the awful recovery from a war kids had no business being a part of.

They stood there, only feet apart, eyes set on each other. He knew why she was truly upset with him, and he knew she understood why he had to do it.

A familiar flicker of annoyance flashed behind her eyes, and her face mercifully softened. She started towards him, but then hesitated again. It hurt. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to pull her in and hold her and never let go. But he hadn’t earned that right back, not yet.

Whatever it was passed, and she sidestepped him toward the portrait hole. Pausing at the entrance, she peered back but avoided his gaze. “Just let me know when pre-match practice is so I can heckle the prat seeker in green.”

[fandomsaligninstories]

Year Two: Another Attack

Chapter List WC: 1,388

8th May, 1993

Violet was vibrating with excitement, as were most of the Hufflepuff students. 

It was time for the Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor game, and the excitement and tensions were palpable. Both teams had played one game so far; Gryffindor won against Slytherin with almost one hundred and fifty points to their sixty. Hufflepuff had lost against Ravenclaw, seventy to two hundred. 

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff matches were usually entertaining, as both teams practised hard and studied up on the other players. Though there wasn't as much violence as there was during Slytherin matches, the Hufflepuff players had been known to play a bit dirty, not that Gryffindor played clean.

It was a chilly Saturday morning, so most students still wore their heavy cloaks and hats, but with so many people sat together in the stands, it was easy enough to warm up. 

The crowd had been cheering and chanting for some time, waiting for the match to begin. But as time went on, many lost their enthusiasm and began to grow nervous.

Violet leaned towards Aimee and Hannah, "The match should've started ten minutes ago." 

"Something must be wrong." Hannah replied. Before she'd even finished, Madam Hooch was on the field, using an amplifying charm so that every person could hear her.

"Attention students, this match has been cancelled. Please calmly return to your houses."

There was nothing calm about the panic that followed. Students began rushing out of the stands, shoving and shouting as they went. Violet, Hannah, and Aimee linked arms so as to not lose each other. 

When they made it out of the stands and off the pitch, Violet and Aimee had to turn their focus on Hannah, who had begun to panic and lag behind.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Aimee tried to reason, "If it were serious, they'd tell us."

"Would they?!" Hannah was shouting. Violet didn't think Hannah realised it, though. Neither Violet or Aimee answered, because no, they wouldn't.

"Maybe there's a storm coming?" Violet tried, despite the sunny sky and the fact that several matches had been played in storms before.

Hannah shook her head violently, "No way."

Violet and Aimee were practically dragging Hannah by the time they got inside the castle. They moved to the side, out of the way of the onslaught of rushing students. They leaned against a wall, watching as Hannah slid down and pulled her legs to her chest. The other two girls weren't sure what to do or how they could calm their friend down. 

They sat quietly for a while, until only a few students were trickling in, not swept up in the panic of the rest. Of those students, Violet recognised one, smiling softly at the blond as he spotted her. He frowned when he looked down at Hannah, hesitating a moment before walking up to the trio.

"Alright there, Abbott?"

"Sod off, Malfoy." Hannah replied, her head still buried in her arms.

He had the decency to pretend to be offended. He turned his attention to Violet, "What's wrong with her?"

Violet shrugged at his casual tone, "What's wrong with you?"

He chuckled, "A great many things, I suspect."

"Hmph," Aimee scoffed, "Yes, I'm sure it's a long list."

Draco only smirked, looking back to Violet, "Anything I can do?"

"Not unless you've got a draught or spell to ease a panic attack." Violet murmured.

Draco stared at her for a long moment, his easy demeanour shifting to guarded once more. Violet wasn't sure what she'd said to upset him, but the next moment, he was gone.

"Helpful, that one." Aimee rolled her eyes, sitting next to Hannah, who had gone from violently trembling to occasionally shuddering. She was still breathing heavily and her skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. Aimee tried to wrap her arms around their friend, but pulled away when Hannah began shaking her head. 

Violet sat on the other side of Hannah, her concern growing the longer her panic attack went on. She had known Hannah was prone to panic attacks, but had never witnessed one before. Hannah had told her friends previously that she was usually able to ground herself with breathing techniques she had learned from counselling, but during the worst attacks, the only thing she could do was wait it out. 

Aimee and Violet both hated the 'wait it out' method. Violet hated watching her friend suffer, she hated not being able to help. 

After a few more minutes, Violet and Aimee looked up to a sudden figure standing over them. Draco was there, his hand outstretched to Violet. Violet frowned, until she noticed the little glass bottle in his palm. 

"A calming draught." He stated simply. Violet took the bottle from him. It looked to only hold a few swallows of the shimmering blue liquid. She wanted to ask how he had gotten it so quickly, because he hadn't been gone long enough to make it. 

"Thank you." She gave him a grateful smile before turning to Hannah, "Han? Here, take this, it will help."

Hannah looked over to Violet, her eyes and face red and splotchy. Her hand shook as she reached out for the bottle, drinking the liquid quickly. It only took a few moments for the effects to kick in, her body visibly relaxing. 

Violet turned to thank Draco again, but he was already gone again. Aimee and Violet worked together to get Hannah back to their dorm, the girl half asleep by the time they dropped her onto her bed.

They left her to rest as they went back to the common room. The tension and nerves were palpable when they joined some of the other students. They went directly to their Prefect, who was standing by the door, staring at them.

"And where have you been?" Eric Makon asked, his tone sharp, "You were to report straight here after you left the pitch."

"Sorry, Eric, but we got carried away by the other students and had to come back from upstairs." Aimee lied easily, softening her expression to be apologetic. Violet followed her lead.

"Mhm," He hummed, obviously not believing them, "Anyway. There was another attack. All students are to stay in their houses until further notice."

Violet was afraid to ask, "Who?"

"Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw Sixth Year, and Hermione Granger, a-"

"Hermione?!" Violet gasped, "I know her!"

Eric frowned at her, "You do?"

"Yes, we're friends. I can't believe it..." Violet trailed off, turning and walking away. She sat on the first available couch she saw. 

"I'm sorry," Aimee offered, sitting next to her, "She'll be alright. I heard that the Mandrakes are almost ready."

Violet nodded, leaning against her friend, "I wish they'd figure out who's behind all this."

"Me too." Violet jumped at the voice to her other side, "Sorry, Vi."

"Cedric?" Violet frowned, staring at the boy who was perched on the arm of the couch. He gave her a half smile, "Hi."

"Hi. I heard about Granger. Thought... Thought I'd check on you." He sounded nervous, and Violet couldn't for the life of her think of any reason why. 

"I'm alright. I wish I could go find Professor Sprout, help her with the Mandrakes." Violet wasn't sure how to feel, truthfully. Shocked, sure; upset, definitely. She liked Hermione, and wasn't lying about them being friends, but they weren't all that close. They talked on occasion during shared classes, but rarely saw each other otherwise. 

"Right, of course." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he was interrupted by none other than Professor Sprout.

"Attention, please!" She stayed by the common room door, a roll of parchment in her hand as the lingering students all turned to her, "Due to recent events, the following rules will be in place until further notice: all students will return to their houses by six o'clock every evening, and all students will be escorted by a teacher to each lesson. No exceptions!" She sighed, letting the parchment roll back up as she looked around the room, her expression pitying, "I shouldn't say anything, but... Unless whomever is behind these attacks is caught, I fear the school may be closed soon." She swept out of the room just as fast as she had appeared, leaving the students in various states of shock.

TAGLIST:

@stellarlune-love @helendeath @skz-xii @cherriesfine

[princeblack]

on sunday he leaves the castle at dawn, carrying some clothes and water in his bag as he crosses the courtyard. he made sure to pack a sweater and a jacket as well as a set of his slytherin robes, wanting to find bee and at least keep her warm and covered enough to make it to a building. he had been watching her the past two months, noticing she was always missing at breakfast on days after the full moon. what’s more than that, she’d shared with him that the new professor remus lupin is her biological father, who also disappeared on days of the moon. it doesn’t take long to notice the pattern, particularly because regulus is a little obsessed with her.

she may not know it but bee is the love of his life, someone he’s been pining for since he met her at the start of first year when they were just fifteen. even just meeting her, he’d never felt those feelings before, like he was looking at a shining star just listening to her speak about what she loved. she inspired him, not just because of her enthusiasm and interest in creatures but also her beauty. it seemed unrealistic that someone could be so gorgeous, with the prettiest face and smile he’d ever seen. he was told from a young age that he would be sorted into slytherin and sit with the pureblood families, witches and wizards who had been prominent for centuries. he never anticipated befriending a hufflepuff, especially not when his cousin draco had spoken so ill of them, repeating what lucius had told him about the house. he even joked about just leaving hogwarts if he was sorted into hufflepuff, which regulus ignored. his own father orion had said at least hufflepuffs were hard-workers, citing gryffindor as the worst house because of the house’s history of siding against ‘their culture’ and the way they valued the old ways.

regulus knows how wrong that is now, after he watched people attacked and almost killed last year when the chamber of secrets was opened. it was all in the name of blood supremacy, even draco saying that he hoped hermione granger was the ‘mudblood’ to die. tension was high and it was the first time regulus really saw the full extent of what pureblood supremacy could cause, many of the people around him repeating that muggleborns deserved to be killed. regulus realizes he’s a fool now for ever thinking that there was a way to remove muggleborns from their society without killing them. but lord voldemort made it seem like it would be possible at first, seeming as if he had answers about keeping their kind safe and powerful enough to defend themselves so the witch hunts didn’t drive them to near extinction again.

but everything changed when bee was paralyzed, being attacked by the basilisk as it targeted hermione, who was the muggleborn it wanted. realizing bee could’ve died, it angered him that his family seemed to make excuses for the chamber. it almost ruined his relationship with draco until he became quiet on the matter after bee’s attack, seeming to actually agree that all of it had gone too far. he never really believed draco wanted hermione dead to begin with, knowing his cousin well enough to deduce that draco wouldn’t ever actually harm someone or truly wish that on them. instead he was all talk, trying to please lucius to an extent that even regulus didn’t reach with orion.

he starts to hate lucius and even his parents to an extent, finding that his entire world view is being destroyed as bee’s petrified body sits in the infirmary. but then came the summer, when he finally witnessed voldemort kill innocent muggles, claiming it was time for everyone to become comfortable with what they have to do to fully seize power and help him get a new body. they then had to wach him re-animate the corpses for the purpose of adding to his inferi army. 

even with months passed, regulus still has nightmares about the deaths he’d seen. voldemort seems to sense his confusion and anger, asking if he could use kreacher to secure a horcrux defense. knowing he was unable to say no and that it was a test of loyalty, regulus agreed reluctantly.

what regulus doesn’t anticipate is kreacher being left to die, barely making it back to him in one piece. it makes him angry more than anything, that he was betrayed in more ways than one, made out to be a complete fool. he was lied to and pressured from all sides, and all it had gotten him was more trauma and the near loss of the girl he loves as well as kreacher, someone he loves like family.

so he works on the decoy locket, wanting to return to the cave and retrieve the real one so he can destroy it and consequentially kill voldemort before he’s even able to get his new body. he hides his mark, trying to get through the school year, but something that made it undoubtedly worse was his brother’s recent escape from azkaban. neither of his parents would ever talk very much about their first son (whose image was burned off of the family tree), but from what his mother said regulus had always thought sirius was the same as andromeda, disavowing the family beliefs for blood purity. it doesn’t make sense, then, that he was secretly a supporter of lord voldemort, killing thirteen muggles in broad daylight. despite this, voldemort has never spoken of it and regulus was taught not to ask questions, so he didn’t.

all he knows is there are rumors that his brother is insane and could be doing anything now that he’s on the loose. it’s been difficult, particularly because he was already struggling with hating himself for what happened to kreacher and how his family had led him down this path (presumably the same one sirius wound up on, even when he tried to resist). the only person who spoke against the rumors was bee, even writing him a sweet letter with gifts attached. if he wasn’t already in love with her (he was), he would’ve fallen for her right then, reading her words over and over each night for comfort. he even wrote his own love letter back, leaving it unsigned. he hasn’t gathered the courage to send it, knowing how big his words are and how wrong it is to pursue her to begin with when he can’t be honest about who he is. what would she say, if she saw his mark? what would happen to her, if his plan with voldemort went wrong? and even more than all of that, what if she didn’t feel the same way?

none of those fears matter when it comes to their friendship, though, and all he wants to do when he learns of her lycanthropy is to help her. he goes to talk to her father, making him aware that he’ll be searching for her this morning and not to look for her himself. he even confessed how he feels about her so that remus knew he was serious, convincing him surprisingly easily that he could handle this. he’s not afraid of bee’s lycanthropy and he would gladly take it on himself if it meant showing her that someone cares for her and has her back always. he would do anything for the girl who showed him a glimpse of her bright world, making things a little less grim and serious in his. it was only because of her that he felt safe to pursue his own passion more, reading about creatures and particularly dragons when he wasn’t supposed to because of his mother. he’s not sure how to thank her for making him want to fight and actually survive the war that’s coming, and even doing this doesn’t seem to be enough.

but he traipses through the courtyard, finally reaching the entrance to the forbidden forest. he pulls his scarf more tightly around him, adjusting it so it isn’t caught beneath his dark brown jacket, one of his favorite ones that’s a tweed material. it’s silly that he cares about his appearance when he’s looking for his friend who’s probably disheveled after being a werewolf right now, but he already knows she’s going to be beautiful and take his breath away completely.

he finds her in a patch of flowers in a clearing, laying there with no clothes on, dirt smeared across her body. he flushes, feeling warmth spread through him at the sight of her naked curves, beautiful skin and hips and breasts. he tries to avert his eyes as he approaches but it’s difficult not to look at all of her when he has to look at her face too. it feels especially strange because she’s still passed out, her eyes shut and her pretty face almost peaceful looking. she has no idea that he's looking at her right now, or that he had planned to come out here at all.

he takes off his bag, placing it in the grass. starting to tug the clothing out, he grabs his robe first, stepping forward to lay it across her body and cover her with it. then he gently touches her shoulder, his voice quiet as he tries to wake her. “bee… wake up. i told professor lupin i was going to help you today.”  / @devcted

[healingmyinnerfangirl]

A Spot On The Sofa / Ch. 1

( James Potter x Lily Evans)

CW: swearing, bigotry and reference to hate groups

Desc: After the incident in their fifth year where Snape calls Lily a mudblood, James can't help but feel it's his fault. In his efforts to make amends, the pair grow closer than either of them expected. 2k

WIP

ao3: healingmyinnerfangirl

There was something about a good sofa that Lily always loved. As a child when Petunia would lock their shared bedroom door Lily had learned to tolerate, and even prefer, the sofa downstairs. Her parents had insisted she stay in their bed, but Lily never minded. The sofa made her feel secure, held tight, swallowed in. Going to Hogwarts was a delight when she turned eleven, but she’d have been lying if she said she didn’t miss her sofa at home. She was relieved to find out that the Gryffindor common room sofa was just as comfortable as the one at home, if not more so. The burnt orange upholstery had long collected the various smells of the common room; the soft smoky aroma from the fireplace, hints of cinnamon from spilt fire whiskey, the faint artificial orange scent from furniture polish that was used to dust the side tables. The cushions were old and firm but would mold to whoever rested into them, as if to say “stay a while.” The fabric was always warm and soft, kept up well by the house elves who cleaned the common room out of sight. Lily had unofficially claimed this spot as her own in her first year. She’d done her best to try staying in her own bed most nights; though in the event that she’d have a bad dream or be tossing and turning, she would find herself tip-toeing downstairs to the sofa to close her eyes for a few hours before grumbling back upstairs after being woken up by the Quidditch team, clattering out through the door for early morning practice. It’d become a place of safety for her, and any Gryffindor knew better than to steal her spot.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She and Severus had been fighting more than usual lately. They weren’t always like this, she’d thought to herself. Before Hogwarts they had been inseparable, both of them relieved to have found a bird of the same feather in each other. The sorting their first year had been an obvious source of tension, but the two had done their best to keep their Houses’ rivalries in the background. As they grew older and befriended others, however, it was difficult for Lily to ignore that Severus had changed. He had insisted he had no involvement with the anti-Muggle rhetoric that some of his Slytherin classmates had started adopting. Lily was sure he wasn’t. How could he be, she’d try to reassure herself, if he’s still friends with me?

Fifth year had yielded a difference in Severus, though. Lily couldn’t quite pinpoint the source, whether it was the insidiously growing tension against Muggle-borns and Half-bloods outside of school, or if Potter and his band of idiots had been teasing him more than usual. Whatever the case, he had been snapping at her too often for her liking. She refused to allow it of course, and would shut his moods down quickly, but she couldn’t help feeling that there was more to it. She sunk back into the cushion of the common room sofa, trying to rack her brain as to what she did this time to set him off. Something Avery had said maybe, that Severus was cruel enough to laugh at in front of her. That must have been it.

“Oi, Evans! Never see you in this early. Snivelly finally respecting your curfew? Or have the dungeons gotten too cold for you?”

Lily closed her eyes in annoyance and sighed through her nose. Potter. Of course he’d have some fucking remark to make. She’d take Severus’s snide comments any day over this.

“Not in the mood, Potter.”

“Aw, don’t tell me you two have gotten into a little lover’s quarrel. You know, if you’d ditch the sleak git for me, I’d make it worth your while. Wouldn’t pick a single fight--”

“Do you ever take a hint?! Leave it alone, Potter. I said I’m not in the mood.” She cut him off sharply, turning halfway in her seat to serve him a scathing glare.

She could see his shit-eating grin fade a bit as he realized he’d gone too far. His recovery was quick, though, as always.

“Whatever, Evans. Your loss. You know where to find me when your pretty little head inevitably turns.” He winked at her and walked backwards to the stairs of the boy’s dormitories, leaving Lily feeling more irritated than she had been when he came. This was not a novel feeling, she acknowledged. He always knew exactly which button of hers to press.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

James had often been the last to leave Quidditch practice. It wasn’t for lack of efficiency, more for a love of the pitch. The air of the mountains was fresher than anything he had ever inhaled, the smell of dew, cedar trees, and grass embedded into his uniform and hair after each match. There was nothing he loved more.

Well, he thought, maybe one thing.

Lily Evans hated his guts. He didn’t know whether to be hurt or amused by this, so he often chose the latter. He had a particular talent for teasing her, hoping one day she’d realize he was actually quite witty. It never seemed to go that way for some reason, but James was nothing if not persistent.

He never understood why she wasted her time with Snape of all people though. It seemed to James that everyone saw him for what he truly was: a slimy little git. Everyone but Lily, at least. It bothered James out of proportion to what normal jealousy should feel like. He knew the shit Snape and his slimy friends would say behind her back; the way they would degrade her for being Muggleborn, for having the nerve to be a better witch than any of them. They’d even stopped being secretive about it at times. Snape would never have the balls to say it with her in earshot, and it was hard to tell if he really meant them in the first place or if he was putting on a show for his bigoted clique. Lily had to have heard them at some point. If she hasn’t already, she was going to, and God knows how she’d react then.

James found himself furrowing his face in thought on his way back to the common room, turning the corner of the West Wing into the Quad to see two figures nearby, one with his favorite shade of crimson adorning her head.

“You heard what they called that first year the other day, Sev. They called her a mudbl- I can’t even say it. And you just stood there, like there was nothing wrong it with it! You even had the fucking nerve to crack a smile when they said it. Don’t you dare deny it,” she hissed, pointing her finger at him accusingly as he opened his mouth to interrupt. “Marlene told me about the whole thing. I can’t believe you.”

“Lily, she’s lying to you! I told them they shouldn’t have said it, there was nothing I could’ve-”

“Nothing you could’ve done? You don’t have even a shred of decency to correct your friends when they’re being pigs? You’d rather keep your mouth shut to keep the peace between you and those Nazis?”

“They’re not Nazis, Lil-”

“They’re Death Eaters, Sev. You’ve said it yourself, that’s what they want to do out of school. Not a job, no, they want to terrorize Muggles for a living. And if you keep hanging around them you’ll end up following the same path-”

“No!” Severus asserted. “You know me, Lily. You know I would never go that far. And I would never call you a-”

Snape trailed off, realizing Lily had spotted someone else in the courtyard and was looking towards him. James, engulfed by the argument in front of him, had also taken a moment to realize it was him Lily was looking at.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he called dryly to the pair, making his disdain for one of the parties abundantly clear.

Lily rolled her eyes, finished with this conversation, and headed towards the Great Hall, leaving the two boys in her midst.

James and Snape eyed each other with matching glares, in a silent competition to see who would break first. The latter finally let a sneer loose before storming away after his friend in an effort to catch up with her.

James let out a sigh and made his way back into the common room, subconsciously ruffling his hair as he walked. Good going, Prongs, he thought. Keep interrupting them when they argue. That’ll score you some points for sure. Idiot.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I just don’t get it, Remus. I feel like I’m losing him and I don’t even know how to stop it.” Lily sighed, slumping her elbows onto the railing of the bridge leading out past the clock tower. She overlooked the lake, reminded of how beautiful the castle truly was, even on an overcast day like this one.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do, Lily. He’ll choose whatever path he feels suits him, whether you like it or not.” He leaned on the railing beside her, joining her in gazing outward at the scenery before them.

“He’s been my friend since we were kids, though. I can’t just sit back and watch him become one of them.” She sighed, leaning back on the bridge’s beam with her arms outstretched, rocking her body back and forth impatiently.

“Do you think he really thinks I’m beneath him, Remus? Like how all of his friends do?”

Remus turned his head to look at her. A blend of bitterness and worry twitched on her face, trying but failing to mask it.

“Has he said anything like that to you?”

Lily shook her head. “I know his friends think so. They all say it to other Muggleborns. He’s even with them sometimes.”

“Have you asked him about it?”

Lily shook her head in annoyance, remembering her fight with Severus earlier that week. “He always gets so defensive when I ask him. He keeps saying they’re not as bad as I think they are, he’d never think that of me, but I’m just not sure anymore. Half of his little posse have already pledged themselves to You-Know-Who once they graduate. There’s even a rumor McNabb already has that stupid fucking tattoo on his arm.”

Remus chuckled grimly. “I heard that one too actually. I didn’t think McNabb had the physical stamina to get a tattoo, let alone Severus. He may be in trouble after all.”

Lily turned to Remus with a scornful look. “I’m kidding.” He quickly added.

“ Look, you know I’m not Snape’s biggest fan. But I have a hard time believing he’d risk his friendship with you over a few of his mates in Slytherin. He’s probably just doing whatever he can to keep in good standing with them so they leave you alone.”

Lily paused, drinking that thought in. “You think so?”

Remus shrugged. “It’s possible.”

Lily smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Remus. You’re probably right. I’ll talk to him.” Lily let out a big exhale as if she were releasing a pent up tension in her chest. She looked over at Remus again, no longer distracted by her own dilemma.

“You’re paler than normal.”

“Am I?” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.

“Yes. You’re sweating too. Are you feeling alright?”

Remus nodded, eager to shift the conversation to a different topic. “I’m fine, you know how I get this time of year. Probably another cold.”

“That’s your third cold this year, Remus. Everytime you recoup from one, it seems like you catch another. You really ought to see Madame Pomfrey about it.”

“Ah, Madame Pomfrey has bigger fish to fry than me. I’ll be fine. Just need to rest,” he said, grabbing his bag to head back towards the castle. “You coming?”

Lily shook her head. “I’ll stay out here for a minute. I need some more air.”

Remus gave her a farewell wave before leaving Lily to her thoughts, hoping to God he was right about Severus. The alternative wasn’t something she was prepared to consider, she thought.

[solarkindred]

You guys know the canon illustrations of Hogwarts founders?

Yeah I totally disagree with them. And I read a founder’s era fic where Hogwarts was actually built as refuge for this war fought between wixes and muggles. And I’m totally all for that.

So, today I’m going to describe my renditions of the founders.

Salazar Slytherin- A tall, lithe white haired man with handsome and sharp features. His eyes are a striking and vibrant yellow, akin to a snake’s. He’s of pure-blood and noble descent, wearing fine clothing of the highest qualities. His nose is pointed and long, eyebrows sharp and masterfully crafted. His usual attire often consists of flowy long sleeved blouses and tight pants or silk tunics. Salazar was from a high point in society, his parents are what most other nobles call “lunatics” for allowing their son to play in the dirt and own pets such as snakes. He likes plants. A lot. The elixirs master and field medic, along side Helga.

Godric Gryffindor- Another tall man, but he’s much more defined and muscular. A gorgeous blonde with viridescent green eyes, a mask of stubble on his chin. He often has a lopsided grin on his face, always able to brighten up a room with his mere presence. A lovable oaf. By modern terms, he’s a bit of a himbo. He has a certain affection to felines, even has a chimaera mount he rides into battle (he raised it from a cub. His explanation to his success is, and i quote, “As long as it imprints on you, you’re good.”) Terrifying but cute, sinnamon roll. Frontlines and defensive teacher, rune magic knowledgeable.

Helga Hufflepuff- A stout and slightly chubby black girl with hair as wild as wild can get. An immigrant and servant girl to the Ravenclaw family. She’s treated well by her masters, especially by her charge, Rowena. Her friends often ask for portraits of either scenery or themselves, her painting skills are of the virtuoso variety. (does that make sense?) She has a knowledge of poisons and medical applications, sometimes her knowledge coming across as terrifying. Cute but terrifying. Poisons and main medic, stealth/assassins operator.

Rowena Ravenclaw- A raven haired Asian-English noble of moderate height. With a cunning smile and knowing sharp cobalt eyes. Pretends to be knowledgeable about everything but is easily dumbfounded at the most simplest of things. Constantly asks Salazar to explain his snake-speak and Godric to explain his pet chimaera. Rowena prefers to wear expensive furs and layered satin dresses that can somehow pull off the modest style. She’s the woman to flaunt off her riches when she gets the chance to. But can dress extremely modestly when the situation calls for it, situations like war. The strategist of the group.

I have wands for them too, but honestly i feel wand making isnt as refined an art yet during their era. Ollivander lineage is an established “wandsmith” family. Hogwarts comes as the Wix-Muggle War begins and develops (you’d think the wixes would win but boy are muggles resilient) also, yknow the Unforgivables?

Yeah they were forgivable during this time because sometimes you have to get extreme.

Also, muggle-borns are treated foully in the wizarding world due to many suspicions and the community consisted of mostly pure-bloods with occasional half-bloods. Godric being a good example, to me. This claim heavily denies Salazar’s supposed “pure-blood beliefs” but then again some of the things said about famous people are just the projections others push on to them. Two of his friends are half-bloods after all.

[saintlike78]

I hate you [F.W.]

A/N: I love me some good enemies to lovers, and I saw this concept in a Tiktok once and it’s been stuck in my head ever since.

Pairings: Fred Weasley x fem! Gryffindor prefect reader

Summary: You and Fred hate each other – but do you really? You come back to the common room one night all beat and bloody, and your true feelings come out. "Y/l/n" means "Your last name".

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Slight angst to fluff, enemies to lovers, Fred being stupid, mean comments, mentions of blood and bruises, crying, fluff at the end. As always lmk if I missed anything.

“Out of my way, Weasley,” a scowl decorated your face as you tried to push past the annoyingly tall ginger and his less annoying twin who were taking up half the doorway out of the common room.

“And good morning to you too, princess, did you sleep well?” he smirked, all you wanted was to slap the sly smirk off his face or just make him disappear completely - the last option intriguing you more than you’d like to admit.

“Move and stop bothering me,” you pushed his chest for him to move, which he did, but because it’s Fred he didn’t do so without dramatically clutching his stomach and falling into George.

Your eyes made a full rotation, a displeased huff was the last they heard before you were out the door.

“You could cut the sexual tension with a knife,” George smirked knowingly as Fred found his footing again, but he just scoffed at his words.

“You’re delusional, Georgie, y/l/n is the most annoying, stuck up person in the whole of Hogwarts, she’s just fun to mess with,” Fred crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed that his own brother could even think that he could have a thing for you… you were annoying and rude, and attractive… no, maybe, just a little; Fred shook his head at the thought, his mind set - you were just annoying.

“She really only acts that way in front of you, you know, from what I’ve gathered she’s pretty nice… you could’ve just apologized after that accident,” George spoke hesitantly, but Fred just shook his head once more.

“Come on, let’s go get breakfast, we have a lot on our “agenda”.”

——

Your problem with Fred had started your second year of Hogwarts, before then you had no relation with him or George, just hearing the stories or seeing them in the common room briefly, no doubt planning pranks.

A prank that they tried to pull on a Slytherin from your potions class had misfired and unfortunately made you the unsuspecting victim; your work, school satchel which was carrying a week’s worth of finished homework, and uniform completely ruined.

Instead of apologizing, Fred had just laughed, not even caring that their prank had hit a fellow Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin. You had left the class so none of your classmates could see you cry, the tears streaming down your face as you angrily made your way back to your dorm to change and restart all your homework.

All you wanted was an apology, but you never got one, all you got was more pranks targeting you; it was as if the first prank opened Fred’s eyes to the possibility of annoying you specifically.

To say you were well annoyed by him was an understatement and you tried ever since then to avoid him, which was much harder being in the same house as him.

——

Making their way into the Great Hall, Fred quickly spotted you at the long table, you were conversing gently with some of your friends, a smile on your face, one he didn’t often see. He subconsciously sat himself down at a spot where he would be able to look at you with nothing blocking his view, to which George just smirked knowingly, but kept his mouth shut.

Throughout breakfast Fred kept stealing glances your way, as he always did, looking at the way you laughed, the gentleness in your eyes, he felt calm looking at you - not that he’d ever admit that.

You felt his stare, but when your eyes landed on his, Fred quickly picked up a piece of toast and chugged it your way, hitting you square in the face, a loud laugh following.

You stood from your seat, your face red and hot as you stared daggers into his laughing visage.

“What the hell, Weasley! Godric, you’re so immature, why don’t you grow up?!” You yelled across the table, your finger wagging as you pointed at him, the conversation at the table ceasing, all eyes looking between you and Fred.

“Why can’t you just learn to take a joke, y/l/n?” he said with a scoff, crossing his arms as he stood himself.

“I’ll take a joke when you make an actual funny one! The only joke here is you!” you got out from behind the bench, your legs moving you fast towards the exit, your fellow students jaw on the floor as they followed the drama as if it was a soap opera.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Fred got out as well, following you out of the door, “you’re just too stuck up to actually appreciate comedy.”

You let out a humourless laugh, stopping your angry pacing to face him, his own pace coming to a halt in front of you.

You pointed your finger poking it into his chest, “you are a self-centred, egotistical narcissist! You’re horrible…,” your voice turned to a whisper, “I hate you.”

He was taken aback, trying his hardest to not let show how much your words hurt, but instead, he leaned down to look in your eyes, “well, princess, I hate you too.”

You just frowned, turning your back to him, and headed towards class without another word. You knew that you were the first to say it, but you didn’t mean it and it stung deep within you to hear it said back to you.

You were so confused, and so was he; he stared at your figure as it grew smaller the further away from him you got, a long shaky breath escaping him as he went back to join George for their first class of the day.

——

“Wow, you’re really good at this, y/n,” the sweet voice of Daniel said from beside you, as you chuckled at his compliment.

Daniel was one of the, - or actually the only, nice Slytherin boy you’d meet in all your years at Hogwarts, and he just so happened to be your potions partner this week, your last class of the day suddenly less dull.

“Says you, you’re like a potions master!” You joked, jabbing his side as he took over stirring the potion you were working on, giving you an amused smile.

You talked quietly amongst yourselves, Daniel was a good friend, and he was pleasant to be around.

Your peace was stolen from you as quickly as you had gotten it; a Slytherin girl and her friends approaching your workstation, her disruption “unnoticed” by Professor Snape.

She, not so subtlety, merged her way in between yourself and Daniel, twisting her hair as she looked up at him.

“Hey, Dan,” her smile was sickly sweet, completely ignoring your presence even though you were practically breathing at the side of her head.

“Are we still hanging out later,” you rolled your eyes at her interruption and how she wanted to make it a point to inform you of their plans, even though all yours and Daniel’s relationship was was friendly.

“Yeah, sure,” he smiled making a pleased look appear on her smug-looking face, “I’ll be right back, I need to get more lavender for our potion,” Daniel pointed at the cauldron while looking at you, giving you a quick nod before he was off to find the ingredient.

Your presence was finally acknowledged by the girl, her face turning to look at you with a scowl.

“I would appreciate it if you left my boyfriend alone,” she snapped, her arms folded over her chest.

Your eyebrow lifted, confusion clear on your face, “Uhm, we’re potions partners, I’m not sure what you want me to do about that… I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend or anything, it’s just a partners assignment.”

You couldn’t understand why she was angry, your argument completely logical, but flying straight over her head as her scowl deepened.

“You’re standing too close to him, you’re practically throwing yourself at him… ugh I don’t want to talk to you anymore… just leave him alone or you’re going to regret it,” an angry breath left her lips, her voice turning to a whisper as she noticed Daniel returning. She huffed before flipping her hair and walking off, but not without eyeing you down with an angry look.

You let out a breath but put on a smile as Daniel placed the ingredient by your hand.

“So, let’s continue,” your hands clapped together, trying to push past the somewhat threatening encounter you’d just had.

——

Your feet ached slightly as you made your way up towards Gryffindor tower, your prefect rounds finished for the night.

You were tired, yet you were mentally preparing yourself to see Fred in the common room - he was always there; no matter how late you got back, he was sat on the couch or around a table working on some prank item, often alone and you never understood why.

As predicted, Fred was sat on the couch, fiddling with some trinket, possibly an item that would annoy you dearly.

His head turned at the sound of you entering, your eyes briefly meeting, but just as quick your focus was in front of you, hurrying up the stairs and into your prefect’s dorm.

As soon as your door was closed, Fred let out a breath and packed up his things before heading to bed himself.

He let out a groan as his back hit his mattress, snuggling under the blankets, trying to get comfortable, not even worried that he was disturbing George and Lee.

George turned, smirking sleepily even though Fred couldn’t see him.

“Did y/n make it back safely?” he teased, very much aware of the reason for Fred’s late nights, even if Fred wasn’t completely aware himself.

Fred just rolled his eyes, “shut up,” he muttered before turning and shutting his eyes.

——

You thought your day would be good; you had had a peaceful day of classes, then studied for your potions test with Daniel (with an interruption from his displeased girlfriend, but she was quickly forgotten again).

You had hardly seen Fred, due to the harsh words spoken from both of you the day prior; it felt off to not see him or be annoyed by him, but you shrugged it off - you were glad to be rid of him, you tried telling yourself.

The last thing to do was your prefect rounds, which was hardly a challenge, the children of Hogwarts were hardly ones to be energetic enough to be out past curfew - all except the Weasley twins of course.

Your shoe-clad feet trudged down the quiet hallways and corridors, the sound of snoring portraits filling the peaceful night.

Your ears perked up when you suddenly heard not one set of shoes heading your way, but a whole group. Your initial thought was that it was a professor on their nightly shift as well, but the amount of people coming your way was a clear indication that it wasn’t.

The noises drew closer, hushed voices accompanying the footsteps. You suddenly spotted Daniel’s girlfriend with five other Slytherin girls in tow, a mischievous smirk on each of their faces.

“Ah, just the person we were looking for,” you drew your wand, knowing you were overpowered, but one of the other girls was quicker, your wand flying out of your hand and landing on the floor by their feet.

“You’re out past curfew, I’m obligated to take house points,” your breathing was shaky as you looked at them, they looked threatening - even more now that you were unarmed.

“That won’t be necessary,” Daniel’s girlfriend, Sophie, said whilst picking at her nails. “I told you to stay away from Daniel and yet I still see you with him in the library.”

You forced yourself to not roll your eyes, her jealousy completely insane, “it was school-related! We don’t choose our own potions partners and you know that you’re in the same class,” your argued trying to turn to make a run for it, but you didn’t make it far before you were hit by ‘incarcerous’, your body falling forward and landing hard on the stone floor with a ‘thump’.

“But studying in the library isn’t mandatory,” she smirked, all of them making their way to you, circling you as you laid bound on the floor.

You just ducked your head and waited for the impact, the first blow landing right in your stomach knocking all the air out of you.

——

You shakily picked up your wand, wincing at the pain of just bending down.

Your legs struggled to carry you the long way up to the Gryffindor common room, your steps slow as you limped your way up the stairs.

Bruises littered your body and face, blood dripped from your nose and a gash above your left eyebrow. All you wanted was to clean your wounds and go to sleep, hopefully, you could forget about this terrible night, though you doubt the bruises and cuts would be helpful.

After a long hike, you finally stepped through the portrait hole, the fat lady giving you a concerned look, but you waved her off quickly and entered, hopefully, you could make it up the stairs to your dorm without too much of a struggle.

As the couch came into view you remembered one very important variable, Fred Weasley, he was always there when you came back from rounds, and you cursed yourself for forgetting.

“Quite a late night for you, isn’t it y/l/n?” he smirked, his smug tone hitting you right in your chest.

Your recently dry eyes filling with tears again as the events of the night finally hit you.

A sob tore through your throat, “Freddie,” you whimpered as you stood by the arched doorway, the tears leaking out of your eyes.

The sound of your sob and the use of his nickname caused Fred to finally turn his head, the smug look on his face evaporating as soon as he saw the blood, bruises and tears, your figure crumbled and shaking.

“Oh Godric, y/n,” he quickly stood from the couch, his long legs carrying him to you in less than a couple of seconds, “who did this to you?”

He grabbed your face, careful not to touch your cuts or bruises, tilting it up so you were forced to look in his eyes.

His eyes were full of concern a frown pulling at his lips as he looked at your tired tear-filled eyes, your sobs not ceasing.

“Ple-ase, I w-wanna go to my room,” you hiccupped through your sentence, but he understood, nevertheless.

His things were long forgotten as he quickly, much to your surprise, picked you up causing your limbs to wrap around him, but the action caused a small whimper to leave your mouth at the pain.

“Sorry, princess, I’ll be quick,” he quickly ascended the stairs, holding you close to him as he tried to be as fast as possible. Your head fell onto his shoulder, your tears wetting his wool sweater.

Making his way into your prefect dorm, he shut the door quickly before setting you down on the bed, looking you over to make sure he hadn’t hurt you more.

“Don’t move, I’ll clean you up,” his words were quick as he scurried into your bathroom, finding a cloth along with Band-Aids and the proper elements to clean your wounds.

Fred’s arms were full, carrying all the things he deemed necessary to make sure you would be completely fine.

He placed them beside you on the bed before urging you to stand up, which you did, barely by yourself as Fred wouldn’t let you go completely.

“I’m going to remove some of your clothes now, is that okay, darling?” His voice was quiet, he was bursting with need to help you but wanted to make sure you were 100% comfortable with him helping you before he even thought of doing anything.

You nodded, not finding your voice strong enough to answer verbally.

Fred nodded to himself at your given consent as he helped you rid yourself of your robe, quickly undoing the buttons on your blood-stained shirt and accessing the damage.

He saw all the forming bruises, his stomach twisting in anger, wanting nothing more than to hex the living daylights out of whoever did this to you.

There was no blood to clean on your upper body and he still needed to cover you up, your bra being the only thing shrilling your bare figure from his concerned gaze.

He pulled off his sweater, turning your back to him so he could unclasp your bra and toss it aside, purposely angling you so he couldn’t see anything, wanting to spare your dignity. Fred then helped his sweater over your head, making sure it didn’t rub against your face or press on any of your bruises. You inhaled, your nose filling with the scent of cologne, fireworks and cinnamon, the scent calming your racing mind.

He turned your body back, aiding you to sit on the bed once more before kneeling in front of you, using the items to clean the blood off of your face and fix your wounds.

You winced, eyes closing as pain bled through your face, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that your whining wouldn’t help.

“There we go, almost done, darling,” Fred worked as fast as he could without hurting you too much and be thorough.

You nodded, keeping your eyes closed, your face scrunching up, waiting for him to be finished.

After having cleaned everything, he removed your shoes and socks, tossing them aside before standing again, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“You did so good, my good girl, but now you have to sleep, tomorrow I’ll bring you a new cream George and I have been working on to get rid of those pesky bruises,” he helped you up the bed and under the covers, making sure you were comfortable before he very hesitantly headed for the door.

A whine left your lips, one hand reaching out for him, “no, please stay with me.”

His heart ached at how broken and hoarse your voice sounded; he wouldn’t be able to leave you even if he wanted to.

His feet carried his body back to your bed, crawling under the covers you had lifted for him and got comfortable before gently pulling your body close to his, almost laying you on top of him.

He noted the sigh that left your lips, the way your body relaxed against his, snuggling closer to him as if you hadn’t yelled that you hated each other just the day before.

For Fred it was as if everything finally clicked into place, your body fit so perfectly against his, it was as if he’d found the missing piece; he couldn’t believe how many years he had spent tormenting you when all he needed was for you to be close to him.

There was a comfortable silence floating around the room, leaving you unable to fall completely asleep, you were too focused listening to Fred’s steady heartbeat and breathing, his arms snugly around you.

“I’m sorry,” Fred’s whispered voice broke the silence, your eyes snapping open and angling your head to look at his face, his eyes staring right back at you.

“For what?” You already knew the answer, yet you weren’t certain, you wanted to hear the words from him.

“For everything… for the first prank and all those that followed, all I wanted was to see you smile at me, I was just too stupid to do it properly, - I don’t hate you,” his eyes stared into yours, making sure that you knew that everything he said was true and that he meant every word.

“I don’t hate you either… I was just angry and upset… thank you for the apology,” Fred thought he could die of happiness when your lips finally turned up into a gentle smile, a smile for him and only him.

He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, his smile replaced by a frown as he looked over the forming bruise around your eye, his mind listing all the things he would do to whoever caused this.

You leaned further into his touch, raising an eyebrow at his frowning face, using your thumb to smooth out the crease between his brows.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, his eyes refocusing on you after having zoned out in thought, a serious look on his face.

“Are you going to tell me who did this to you?” his touch on your cheek was still gentle but was now also a way to keep your gaze on him.

The way he looked at you let you know that he wasn’t going to let it go and that he expected an answer, a sigh of defeat leaving your lips.

“You know my potions partner?”

“Daniel,” Fred answered way too quick, which he realized, a bashful expression overtook his face.

“Uhm, yeah, Daniel… well, he has a girlfriend who has some jealousy issues and she wanted me to stay away from him, I think she got her point across,” you tried joking to lighten the mood, but Fred was silently fuming, he was using all his self-control from going to grab George and head down to the Slytherin common room to find a certain girl to hex.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay now… thanks to you,” you cradled his cheek with one hand, trying to put him at ease, which it mostly did; his eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, a frown still prominent on his face.

You decided to try something that you’d subconsciously wanted to for many years and now had been craving for most of the time spent with him; slowly you moved a little more up before you put your lips on his, letting your body rest against his.

It took him less than a second to kiss back, his arms around you keeping you close to him as your mouths moved against each other.

The kiss was passionate yet slow, yet it held so much emotion - all the years of frustration pent up and let out through to one another.

His tongue snuck into your mouth to prolonging the kiss, none of you wanted it to end even though you were losing oxygen.

Finally, you pulled apart, your lungs straining too much to ignore; your forehead rested against his as you both took deep breaths.

“You’re so beautiful,” Fred breathed, staring into your eyes, “I’ll spend every day proving to you how sorry I am and make that girl wish she could leave Hogwarts.”

An amused grin decorated your face, “as long as you’re not such a sap every day,” you giggled as you quickly pecked his lips. As you pulled back you saw how his own face was now equipped with a smirk, a small laugh leaving his mouth.

“You’re a little jokester aren’t you, princess?”

You giggled again, burying your face in the crook of his neck, causing Fred to laugh again.

“Get some sleep now, darling,” he whispered when you let out a yawn, a smile on your tired face.

“Only if you’re here when I wake up.”

“I’ll always be here,” he promised, which was enough confirmation for you to finally let sleep overtake you.

Tags: @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @lexi_shoto, @sprucewoodlover, @blackandlupinsslut, @cedricisnotdead, @i-love-scott-mccall, @weasleysparistrip, @pottahishotasf, @mjoubertt-1, @m2lily, @biles-bilinski-24, @methblinds, @maraudersbijj, @samaraaaaa, @bellatrixscurls, @princess-jules47, @chanellewts, @remusjlupinisdead, @divanca2006,

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up - December 2022 ｡ﾟ✶ฺ.ヽ(*´∀`*)ﾉ.✶ฺﾟ｡

At the end of our world by gnarf @gnarf

It took three days before the first hints were on the news, and a week before Harry spotted the first Infected on his own street. A month until there was no chance of stopping the panic, and six weeks until the government and Ministry fell. Then the TV stopped airing anything but a standby with the message ‘Stay safe’, and the world as he’d known it ended forever. Ten weeks later he got an answer from Hermione. “It spread. There’s no way back. We love you, Harry. Take care.” Rec Post

Kaleidoscope by Saras_Girl

If Harry’s honest, the last thing he needs is a house full of Draco Malfoy, but partners are partners, and perhaps, the thing he wants the least will turn out to be absolutely everything.  Rec Post

Loverboys by corvuscrowned @corvuscrowned

As post-war violence and tensions rise, it seems as if there’s no hope to unify the wizarding world. Except, maybe, a manufactured relationship between resident Saviour Harry Potter and known purveyor of the Dark Arts Draco Malfoy. (The fact that they detest each other is beside the point.)

But as Draco’s unrelenting mind games begin to wear him down, Harry has to remind himself that it’s all fake. The relationship is fake. The affection is fake. The pet names, the romance — even the engagement photos are fake.

But there’s something in Draco’s kiss that might just be real. Rec Post

The Truth About Love by waterwings @amywaterwings

In which Draco is a high-powered magical divorce lawyer and Harry is the Unspeakable assigned to seduce him. It goes as well as one might expect. Rec Post

Merlin’s Kitchen by Writcraft @writcraft

Merlin’s Kitchen is a shit nightclub but having sex with Harry Potter might improve things. Rec Post

1,000 Points From Gryffindor by @blithelybonny

The story of how Harry Potter single-handedly lost Gryffindor the House Cup while attempting to have a “normal” year at Hogwarts. Featuring Harry’s suspicious nature turned up to eleven again, a new DADA teacher who is so not here for Harry’s fame, multiple detentions, Slytherins being sneaky, Hufflepuffs being sneakier, and the mystery of Draco Malfoy’s hoodie because seriously Hermione who gave that to him and is he wearing it just to torment me? This is ridiculous! Rec Post

The Secret Keeper by fools_errand

written by @the-fools-errand with art by @razielim

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand.

An unlikely team assembles to teach him everything he needs to know before the charm runs out, but only one of them knows the truth behind the Dark Lord’s return to power. If it were anyone else, Draco would have no problem turning them over to the Death Eaters, but there’s something about this certain bespectacled idiot that has him questioning everything he’s ever known.

Will Draco seal the fate of the wizarding world by uncovering the Chosen One or will Harry save Draco from a fate of his own? Rec Post

Feather by shushu_yaoi_lj @orange-peony

Green eyes greet Draco when he arrives at the school gates, ready to start his new job as a Hogwarts professor after spending ten years in France. “Hey,” Potter says, waving at him as he approaches. “We weren’t expecting you until the start of term.” Draco is speechless. What the fuck is Potter doing at Hogwarts? Rec Post

Chasing Shadows by manixzen @manixzen

The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub.

A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

All I Want For Christmas (Is For You To Stop Talking) by Femme (femmequixotic) @femmequixotic, noeon (noe) @noeeon

The Niffler’s Garden is the most prestigious wizarding nursery school in England and has been for the last century or more. Harry Potter’s boys are both enrolled as pupils at the Garden. When he volunteers to assist with the Yule pageant, he has no idea that he’ll be working closely with another parent, Draco Malfoy. Although they haven’t seen each other much since their own school days, Harry faults Malfoy for not being a hands-on dad to little Scorpius. Will the intense weeks of preparation fan the fires of enmity or something else entirely? Rec Post

Butterflies in Winter by Justlikewriting

Of course Harry had known that Malfoy’d been sent to Azkaban, but, to be honest, since the trials Harry hadn’t really thought of the git at all anymore. A random visit to Slug and Jiggers was about to drastically change that, though.

And whose exactly were those letters that Harry found there?

You Know the Feeling by iota @sorrybut-blog

Harry waits, but the hex never comes. In the mirror, Malfoy’s eyes dip shut, and he lets out a soft sound that goes right through Harry, heat rising in his body, pushing out against his chest.

Malfoy turns slowly, careful not to dislodge Harry’s hand. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, then speaks, his voice low. “Don’t start something you won’t finish.”

***

Harry’s not sure why he’s started hooking up with Malfoy. Boredom, or the heat of the summer, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s nothing too complicated. Right?

Paper Rings by lettersbyelise @lettersbyelise

When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart.

What Harry and Draco used to be is all in the past. And surely they can work together in these new, emotionally charged circumstances without falling in love all over again… can’t they?

The Trouble with Wanting by waldorph @waldorph

Draco Malfoy is cleared of all charges; this is what happens next.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all & I hope 2023 is good to you! Happy New Year! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[earlgreydream]

another minute.

| James potter x reader | fluff | smut |

subby james, because I can’t get enough

Your book rested against one bent knee, propped up so you could view the white pages. The story sucked you in, consuming hours of your time, making you forget you were lounged on James’ bed, instead of lost in a mythical world. Worlds of ethereal angels sucked you into a far-away reality, creating visions in your mind that distracted you from the looming anxiety of O.W.L.S. and James’ stress.

You were broken out of your trance when the door opened, the exhausted boy returning from quidditch practice. You frowned when you noticed how defeated his expression was, exhaustion making him weary. Your boyfriend rarely looked sullen, and the sight made you sad.

“James, how was it, love?” you dared to ask.

“It was a total shitshow.”

His voice had a distinct whine to it, alerting you of his disappointment and neediness. You sighed, reaching out your hand, squeezing his, deciding to let his profanity slide instead of scolding him. 

“Go shower, James, and I’ll help make it up to you,” you instructed softly, knowing what James wanted from you.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered softly, disappearing into the bathroom.

You listened to the water run, setting your novel aside. You stripped down while you waited for him, residing yourself to lie naked on the bed. 

.

James was beyond frustrated with how the practice had gone. Tournaments were coming up, and Gryffindor was nowhere near prepared to beat Slytherin in the championship. He’d spent the entire semester coaching the team, but they weren’t as good as the cunning house, and the frustration was wearing on James.

He was tired of being in control, being responsible and ordering around the other students. It exhausted him, and all he wanted was to melt into a submissive headspace around you, and let you take care of him. You loved to do it, you adored your sweet, mostly well-behaved, subby boyfriend. 

James let the hot water and soap wash away the dirt, rain, and sweat, leaving him clean for you. He spent a little too long in the shower, enjoying the water until it ran cold. He appreciated your patience, thankful he wasn’t being rushed. 

When he walked out of the bathroom, he immediately started to harden at the sight of your nude form stretched out on crimson sheets. You looked divine, and he stood and stared at you for a moment, taking in the sight.

.

You smiled, running your fingers up his warm torso as he walked over to you. The towel fell from his waist, and he knelt over you on the bed.

“What do you need, my love?” You brushed black hair from his face, and he leaned into your touch. You gently tilted his face up, thick, dark lashes parting to reveal emerald green eyes.

“Need you,” he whined, sinking down to lay between your legs.

“You can have whatever you want,” you promised, willing to give the gorgeous boy anything.

A muscular arm hooked under your waist, and his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sending a shudder through you. You allowed yourself to relax, dripping onto the sheets as his tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, sucking on it while his fingers toyed with the other.

James encouraged a sigh from you, gazing up with gentle green eyes. Your fingers combed through his hair, feeling the soft locks under your touch.

He rutted onto the bed innocently, and you wondered why he didn’t fuck you, only focusing on your chest. You were beginning to ache with need, and if he wasn’t going to fill you, you wanted to be eaten out.

“Jamesie, love, why don’t you touch my pussy?” You asked, your voice coming out in a slightly higher pitch.

“Wanna play with your tits,” James whined, smearing his lips over your skin as he spoke.

“I know, baby, but I need to be touched properly. Please, can you be sweet for me?” You pleaded, starting to regret your promise to let him do whatever he wanted.

Above all, James wanted to please you, and be your sweet boy. A small sigh escaped his lips, and he pried himself from your chest.

“Okay,” he relented, pecking your lips before sitting back on his heels.

He let himself admire you for a moment, your skin flushed from teasing, and the puffy red area between your legs glistening. He bit back a smile, amused by how aroused you got from having your tits played with, even though you complained.

“Will you ride me?”

You almost missed the question. James’ voice was so low and soft, it barely registered. You didn’t understand how he could possibly be shy, asking, but he still somehow surprised you.

You sat up and James grinned, falling onto his back on the red sheets, his waves fanning around his head in a dark halo. He was ethereal, with his warm, tanned skin, and bright eyes.

You moved to straddle his lap, kneeling over your boyfriend. James’ hands came to your hips, helping to guide your movements and take some of the pressure.

Your hand reached below you, gently wrapping around him. You jerked him off a couple times, preparing to ride him. James watched you silently as you sank down, his cock disappearing inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut and one hand reached out to grab the headboard for balance.

“James, fuck!” You moaned as your hips met his, entirely filled with him.

Your head dropped forward, both hands gripping the oak headboard. James leaned up slightly, pulling your nipple into his mouth while you were bent over him. A cry left your lips from the stimulation, and you rolled your hips, beginning to build a rhythm of fucking yourself on James.

He was heavy and thick, enough to make you feel as though you were being split open every time your hips came down on his. The burn was delicious, spreading heat through your abdomen and slowly building pressure.

James loved the way you felt around him. You were so tight and warm, enveloping him and shocking him by how deep you could take it. He loved the way your tiny veins strained as you gripped the headboard, your face scrunched up in pleasure.

He snapped his hips up into yours, forcing himself against your cervix. A scream tumbled from your lips, your clit grinding against his pubic bone. The stimulation sent you over the edge, orgasming violently.

Your hands came down to his chest as you struggled to hold yourself up, hot fire burning through your veins as you pulsed around him. James pulled you down fully, spilling into you as he came. You squealed at the sensation, gripping his shoulders as the thick, white liquid leaked out of you.

“Oh my god, James,” you breathed, throwing your head back as he throbbed inside of you, continuing to paint your cunt with white ribbons.

He was loud. Moans fell from James’ gorgeous, full lips as he fucked up into you, drawing out both of your orgasms until you were so weak you nearly collapsed on him.

He caught you, arms snaking around your waist to hold you against his chest. James rested his chin on top of your head, letting you bury your face in his neck. Fingertips skimmed up and down your back, tracing delicate shapes on your skin.

You relaxed, not caring about the mess, settling down with him still sheathed inside of you. He hummed softly, soothing you with a familiar melody.

You pressed tiny kisses to his throat, making the boy smile.

“You trying to rile me, honey?” James teased, nudging your head.

“No, just loving on you.”

His heart softened, and he kissed the top of your head, tightening his arm around you.

“We gotta clean up soon.”

“I know, but let me have another minute.”

James obliged your wishes, never objecting to being warmed by you. When you began to squirm, he decided it was time to clean up, his hands going under your legs.

An apology was whispered as he eased out of you, earning a pathetic whimper. You felt raw and sleepy, and you detested the feeling of James pulling out and leaving you empty. He tilted your chin up, delivering a kiss to your lips, trying to distract you.

He waved his wand, cleaning you both— and the sheets. Your arms draped over his back as you were carried to a shower, hot water pouring over the two of you.

James carefully set you down, making sure you were steady on your feet. You gently pushed his shoulder, smiling as James knelt in front of you.

His forehead rested against your thigh as you massaged shampoo through his hair. He didn’t mind showering a second time, cherishing the intimacy with you. All the tension he held dissipated, relaxing as you showered together.

He washed your body gently, minding the tender areas. You giggled as he murmured a spell, making the bubbles change colors.

.

“Thank you,” James said, snuggled beside you in bed.

“For what?” You looked up, meeting a gentle emerald gaze.

“For helping me cheer up,” he answered, brushing his fingers over your cheek. Your face broke into a smile, leaning back into his chest.

You pulled your knees up, curling tighter into a ball against him.

“I’m happy to. I’m sorry that your day was hard, though.”

“You more than made up for it. I’m so lucky to be yours,” he kissed your cheek, earning a grin. You reached up, tangling your fingers into his hair.

“I’m the lucky one.”

He laughed and pulled you onto his lap, squeezing you and littering kisses all over your face.

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

Cat fight

My first request, I‘m so exited. Really hope you enjoy it babe <3 @maraudersangel

Warnings: 18+

Pairing: Marlene x Lily x You

---

The walk back from the Quidditch pitch was tense, Lily and you throwing anxious glances at each other. Marlene was pissed off. Gryffindor nearly won the game against Slytherin, but Slytherin scored last second and the game was finished. Needless to say, James and Sirius were fuming with anger and Remus tried his best to hold them back from hexing the other team.

„I can‘t fucking believe it. They clearly cheated, everybody saw! I can‘t believe this bullshit“, she cried out, slamming the door to your dorm room shut and throwing her stuff in the corner of the room. You flinched when you heard the door creak and threw Lily a concerned look. Marlene had never been so angry before.

„It‘s alright Marls, you did everything you could! Besides-”, Lily was cut off sharply by her friend.

„No! It‘s not fair Lily! Why must they always get away with lying? They never get in trouble and it just isn‘t right! Fucking snakes, I‘ll show them..“.

Marlene was sitting on her bed now, face resting on her hands as she kept working herself up over the lost game. Lily sat down next to her friend, resting her hand on her back, stroking in a soothing gesture.

„Marlene, it isn‘t worth it. C‘mon you‘ll beat them nex-“

„God Lily, you just don‘t get it! This was my only chance to show James that I deserve my position! He‘s going to throw me off the team!“ She pushed Lilys hand away, hands tugging frustratedly through her blond locks.

You were starting to get angry as well. You had friends on the Slytherin team and hearing Marlene talk about them like that irritated you. Turning your attention on Lily, who was giving you a warning look, you crossed your arms and gave Marlene an icy glare. „Just because Slytherin won doesn‘t mean they cheated! Stop discriminating them for their house, I have friends on their team and you know that. It‘s not their fault you sucked.“

Lily let out a frustrated groan, knowing that neither of you would back down from this.

„So that‘s how it is? You are siding with them? The sorting hat should have put you in Slytherin then, you‘d fit right in with the cheating snakes!“

„Merlin Marlene you are so fucking full of yourself! Just because you are a Gryffindor doesn‘t mean you are above them! Get. The. Fuck. Over. It! You are acting like a bloody coward!“

Marlene abruptly got up, shaking Lilys hands off and strode towards you in quick steps. You didn‘t back down as she shoved you into the wall behind you and kept staring into her furious eyes.

The next words she spoke were dangerously low, clearly trying to control herself from doing something she‘d regret. „Careful love, you don‘t want to go there...“

You kept looking at her, but your attitude was faltering. Thruth is, you fancied Marlene for quite some time now and seeing her so angry stirred something in you. She was so close you could count each of her lashes, see the different specks of color in her eyes. You took a deep breath, the smell of her shampoo and natural musk made you want to kiss her dizzy and apologize.

„You heard me, Marlene“, jabbing your finger into her chest you spoke loud enough for Lily to hear, „You are acting like a-”

Marlene kissed you. Hard and right on the lips. Her body pressed yours against the wall, her hands on your cheeks. She murmured against your lips, voice soft, but sure. „Kiss me back then, since you are soo brave..“

You let out a breath and kissed her, immediately parting your lips so she could lick into your mouth. Both of you were moaning now, the kiss was filthy and desperate, all your tension from minutes before turned into passion. You were kissing each other trying to prove that neither of you were cowards, you are Gryffindor after all.

Lily sat calmly, watching her best friends make out. Her voice was gentle as she spoke, a dirty glint in her green eyes, „So you‘re just gonna leave me out? How rude..“

Breaking the kiss you looked at her and Marlene let out a soft laugh as she sucked on the skin of your jaw. Grabbing your hand she tugged you towards Lily and pushed you on the sitting girls lap.

Sitting down next to Lily, both of them looked at you with small smiles. You were nervous and incredibly turned on, looking at them eagerly, ready to do whatever they wanted to.

„Lily told me about your little crush on me..“, Marlene drawled and you looked up at her, cheeks flushing crimson. „Maybe you‘d like to show me just how much you fancy me? Lily wasn‘t so convincing..“

Lily was grinning now and leaned to whisper in your ear as you and Marlene held eye contact. „You want to get on your knees and make our Marls come? Hm? You’d like that wouldn’t you, you filthy girl.“ You whined quietly, hips involuntary grinding on Lilys thighs and let out a „Yes! Please!“ eyes hooded as you held Marlenes eyes. The blonde leaned back on her hands and spread her legs to give you space on the ground, her voice dominating, „On your knees pet, I want you to make me cum.“

You scrambled to get on the floor, hands trembling as you unbuttoned her quidditch uniform and pulled them down her legs. Lily was busy making out with her, taking off her shirt to play with her breasts. You pushed her legs up, so her feet were resting on the bed and kissed around her bare pussy, wanting to take your time with making her fall apart. Marlene was already soaked from your kissing earlier, a proud grin spread on your face and you kissed her clit softly. Her hands combed through your hair, slightly pushing your mouth against her clit and you licked her firmer now. You couldn‘t get enough once you got a taste and your tongue lapped on her pussy, licking and sucking on her cunt. She fucked your face, moaning against Lilys lips, but you wanted her attention on you. You wanted to look into her eyes when she came gushing in your mouth. Pulling away you pushed two fingers into her tight hole, curling the fingers to find her spot, your thumb playing with her swollen clit. Marlene shot up with a gasp, leaning on her elbows.

„Mmmh fuck right there, right there pet, ah-“, her voice cut off, breathless as she moaned and moved her hips fast to fuck your fingers deeper into her needy pussy. „Fuck I‘m close, Lily, lick my clit baby, c‘mon“ Lily joined you on the ground and locked her lips around Marlenes clit. Sucking on her clit and Marlene trembled, letting out strangled moans as you fucked her through her first orgasm of the night. Taking your fingers out you put them into Lilys mouth, the red head sucking them clean and kissed you, sharing the taste. „God, c‘mere love“, Marlene let out as she pulled you on the bed. „Want you to ride my face sweetheart, can you do that for me? Can you do that for your Marls?“ „Oh, yes please!“

You hastily took off your clothes throwing them carelessly on the ground and knelt over her face. God, she looked so good. Blonde hair sprawled around her head, blue eyes peering up at you desperately. Seeing your hasitation, she locked her arms around your legs in a strong grip and pulled you down, instantly licking at your cunt. You were so absorbed in your pleasure of finally being touched by your crush, that you didn‘t even notice how Lily fastend her strap-on around her hips. Positioning herself behind you, she placed her hand between your shoulder blades to arch your back down and rubbed the tip against your hole. Realizing what was going on you tried to get up and peer around, but Lily‘s grip was strong, holding you down by your neck and fuck into you hard. You let out a shriek, gasping and moaning, your body trembling with bliss. You couldn’t move and your girls were feral at this point, Marlene sucking harder on your clit, Lily fucking your wet cunt in rapid thrusts.

„Fuck her harder Lily she deserves it. Stop squirming an take it slut, I thought that‘s what you wanted? Wanted us to fuck you?“

Lily let out a condescending laugh, „C‘mon sweetheart, show us how brave you can be. You‘re not a snake are you? You‘re our brave little lion? Our little cock slut?“

„You gonna cum? Hm? You gonna cum all over my face? Cum, slut! Now!“

And you came, body tightening as you grinded your clit on Marlenes face, fucking back into Lily. You were burning up with the force of your orgasm, your breath coming out in hard pants, body weak. They were praising you now, calling you their good little girl, kissing and shushing you.

„Good job, pretty! So good for us, hm Lils?“

„Yes, good girl! So pretty when she cums, Marls, should‘ve seening her pretty face.“

Marlene took the strap on into her mouth, licking of your slick and moaned. „Merlin, she tastes so good.“ „Fuck, gimme a taste..“

Marlene kissed her, tongue licking into Lilys mouth. It was filthy, the sounds of their breathing and moans and kisses were absolute sin and you were needy, letting out a whine. Lily kissed at Marlenes neck, sitting in the girls lap as Marlene shot you a grin.

„What is it baby, feeling left out? C‘mon, on the ground. Want you to make Lils cum.“

You had a different idea, however and bit your lip, „Wanna see you fuck her Marls, please. Wanna see you fuck her with your pussy.“ Lily let out a shocked gasp, her giggles reaching your ears, „God, love you are filthy, aren‘t you? What do you say Marlene, let‘s put on a show-“

Marlene didn‘t even let her finish her sentence and flipped her over, pressing a hard kiss on your lips, „Enjoy the show then, darling.“

They made out slowly, passionately kissing each other breathless, hands everywhere touching softly. Marlenes lips sucked bruises on Lilys freckled skin, making the red head gasp and hum in bliss. Marlene took charge, sliding one leg under Lilys and pushed her hips forward to rub her aching cunt against Lilys pussy. Both of them let out a high pitched moan at the contact, rubbing their clits together and got lost in their pleasure. You were hot again, reaching down to touch your own clit, not daring to make a noise, aftaid that you‘d miss their sounds.

„Fuck Marl- ah Marlene, please make me cum, m‘gonna fu-”

Marlene went faster, brows furrowed and lips in a tight line, concentrating on making Lily squirt. Lily was screaming at this point, rutting against her friend until her body went stiff, head thrown back and whined loudly, pussy gushing with her orgasm. Marlene came again, whimpering as she slowed down, leaning her head back and let out a heavy breath. You came as well, in time with Marlene, both of you sharing hazy smiles.

The girls lazily got up and crawled their way towards you, caging you in with their naked, sweaty bodies. Lily rested her head on your naked breasts, softly sucking on the skin and Marlene tucked your head under her chin.

„This wasn‘t a one time thing right?“, you said, fearing the answer.

„‘Course not, baby. Want you both as often as possible“, Marlene replied, kissing your sweaty forehead. Lily simply nodded against your skin, snuggling in closer.

You beamed at Marlene, breathing her in as you fell asleep between their warm bodies, content and worn out.

[adorerdraco]

It’s Only Quidditch ✧ Draco x Slytherin!Reader

Request: can i please request you and draco being in slytherin and dating for a while and you two are on the quidditch team with him so maybe you two are in a match together but you get hurt and he gets worried and has to win the game and visits you after and maybe even wrecks the person who hurt you hehe just fluff and angst

AU AROUND 6TH YEAR NO VOLDY

Warnings: angry!draco, vengeful!draco, VIOLENCE, kinda graphic details like blood and injuries, lil bit of angst

Words: 3.9K (love making these long for no reason)

A/N: ANGRY DRACO IS SO HOT IM SORRY WOW BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOOOD PLEASE ENJOY MY MADE UP CHARACTER AND MY SUPER LONG QUIDDITCH GAME THAT CONFUSED ME AFTER A WHILE OF TRYING TO WRITE LMAO and i made gif :)

November had begun and with it came the new season of quidditch at Hogwarts along with very poor weather and over-bundling nerves. Tensions had always gotten high around this time of the year amongst the teams and all animosity between the house’s respective players was on the forefront as the competition was building. It was like clockwork every year; captain’s starting strenuous training schedules, begging Snape to help book the stadium even if it was already occupied, spying on other teams to figure out their strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention the arguments that would happen regularly in between the first couple of games when you and your teammates would be accused of cheating or using dangerous and illegal moves. Which did happen to be true most of the time.

It was safe to say that it was the most eventful time of the year, and as suffocating as it sometimes got - you looked forward to it every time the new term started. It was in quidditch that you found yourself feeling the freest in, zipping around the stadium in a flash of green with the wind blowing through your hair and crisp autumn air biting at your cheeks. But most notably, it was in quidditch that you met Draco Malfoy and had quickly evolved from teammates to friends, to him now being your boyfriend.

You made Slytherin’s team your second year as a Chaser, a shiny new broom being given to you on the first day of scheduled training when Lucius Malfoy had made a generous donation that came along with a new platinum blond seeker. With the two of you being the latest additions to the teams, your captain, Marcus Flint, had decided to leave the dirty work for the two of you to do in the downtime every one else was able to enjoy. Marcus never changed that as the years went on.

So you and Draco would be sent off to other teams’ practices nearly every other day or week, depending on how secure Flint was feeling, both of you huddling closely together for sometimes hours behind the thick wooden benches as you watched and studied tactics with conversations in between. You would joke around a lot and call him your partner in crime which he would always roll his eyes to and make a snide and playful comment about even if he secretly loved hearing it. And the two of you stayed partners in crime for a while, neither of you ever making any move towards the other besides lingering touches and longing looks, and very rarely, a shy compliment.

It wasn’t until last year when you were hiding behind the bleachers, bored out of your mind watching Ravenclaw have a flawless run through around the stadium when you were graced with the dumbest idea.

“They’re playing good today,” you drawled out, “too good that it’s boring.”

“You reckon they studied so hard and found the key to quidditch?” He snickered as he played around with a pebble on the ground with his wand.

“We should help them out,” you suggested as Draco turned to raise a puzzled eyebrow at you. “Prepare them for the unexpected, nothing too crazy.”

You took out your wand from your pocket and pointed it towards one of their Beaters that was sitting idly by on their broom, a faint “confundus” leaving your lips that caused the broom to jerk swiftly to the side and nearly topple over its rider.

“You’re a genius,” Draco laughed quietly, repositioning himself so that he was right beside you with his wand directed out into the field. He spotted one of the bludgers flying towards the same Beater and instead of colliding with the bat, he used a charm to direct it into the back of their broom and then doubled it back around to try and hit one of the passing by Chaser’s that moved at the very last minute. 

You were a giggling mess, gripping tightly onto Draco’s arm as you watched everyone begin to look around wildly for the wild bludger with panicked expressions. What either of you didn’t realize in the middle of your joyed hysterics and Draco’s smugness for causing the angelic sounds, was that the bludger was flying idly still in front of the bleacher’s as his wand was still trained on it without moving it around anymore, his focus completely gone and concentrated on you.

It wasn’t until you heard someone yell out a, “Is that Malfoy and Y/L/N back there again?!” That made you get up with a sudden jolt, grabbing onto your accomplice’s hand as you ran towards the set of stairs that descended out of the stands. All you heard was distant angry insults and threats quickly fading out of ear-shot while you ran, laughing uncontrollably alongside Draco with his hand still tightly gripped in yours. 

When you finally reached the entrance of the empty courtyard of the castle with flustered cheeks and wheezing chuckles, you looked down at your joined hands at the same time he did and after a few seconds of realization and lingering adrenaline, you quickly moved into each other with a yearning kiss that changed everything from that day forward.

Draco stood beside you while you sat on a bench outside the locker room, your head resting lazily on the side of his leg while his fingers carded soothingly through your hair. Marcus was pacing in front of you, using his broom as a walking and pointing stick whenever he wanted to add any calculated words to his very hostile pep-talks that left everyone feeling more irritated and stressed.

Today was the last game of the season and the most important, it was the game that ended the season with a shimmering Inter-House Quidditch Cup and it just so happened to be against Gryffindor, making the stakes much higher than they already were. The matches against Gryffindor were by far, the most dangerous as they weren't afraid to play roughly either if push came to shove. The determination to beat each other and to win was critical on both sides and the day always ended with some sort of injuries.

“I don’t care how dirty we have to play today,” Flint fumed to the team, “I don’t care how many fouls we get, as long as we win.”

“Relax, Flint,” you sighed deeply. “We have the best players on our team and we’ve been working our arses off all season, we’ll be fine.”

“Still, I want to see blood out there,” he muttered back, walking towards the entrance of the field as Madam Hooch started calling your team out to start.

You stood up with a huff, Draco frowning when he noticed how tense you looked when your eyes worriedly met his.

“All right, love?”

“I'm just nervous,” you shrug, “I don’t want to mess up.”

The silver-haired boy moved to stand in front of you, placing two strong hands on either side of your arms to stand you in place so that he would be the only thing your wandering eyes were able to focus on.

“You are the best Chaser that Slytherin has ever had, no, that Hogwarts has ever had and I know for a fact you’re going to do amazing out there,” he cups your face with care, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face as he spoke. “You’ve got this.”

He pressed an encouraging kiss onto your forehead and then your lips, smiling at you supportively before taking your hand and hurriedly walking the two of you out into the field where the match was about to start.

Almost the whole school had shown up in an overcrowded sea of red and gold for Gryffindor. There were red sparks and small fireworks of lions that were charmed to roar when the animal would open its mouth. On one end of the stands, however, was the entire student body of Slytherin that was throwing green and silver ribbons and sparklers from their wands, yelling loudly in support as if their life depended on it. Over the rails, they had thrown down a large poster of a snake that moved around sleekly over large green words that read, “SLYTHERIN FOR THE WIN.”

Rain was lightly drizzling from the grayed dense clouds above, a sharp chill in the air from an approaching winter that always seemed to give the worst weather during the last couple of games of the year. You didn’t mind it since the cold had always felt nice against your sweaty skin during the game and it served like a small revitalizing shock that gave you a surge of energy to push forward with. 

Madam Hooch quickly went over the rules, set free the bludgers, and the snitch, forced the two captains, Wood and Flint, to shake hands and by the time she had counted down from three to one - brooms were soared into the sky with such speed it looked like a tornado had formed as she threw the quaffle up into the air.

A roar of cheers erupted from beside you as you got ahold of the quaffle, dashing past your House while you headed straight towards the Gryffindor’s goal post and managed to make the first shot in within the first five minutes of the game putting you at 10-0. You spotted Draco flying around above, smiling down brightly at you with triumph that only fueled your confidence as you darted forward to catch the ball again. You were, just as Draco had said, the best Chaser on the team and in all of the school. You were fast, agile, and smart when it came down to it and you were the reason why your team had easily wracked up 40 points with thirty minutes down in the match. Marcus was always trailing behind you with focus, shoving anyone who tried to get to you or pulling them back by their robes that landed Slytherin a couple of fouls throughout. 

You didn’t like to play dirty, but when Katie Bell had rammed into your side either accidentally or on purpose, it knocked the quaffle out of your hands and into one of their other Chaser’s, Rowan Rees, a muscular and tall seventh-year boy that had made the team that same year. With Katie still closely trying to cut you off, you veered sharply into her with your shoulder before breaking away from her and heading towards your goal post where they were trying to shoot. 

“ILLEGAL PUSHING FROM Y/L/N, FOUL AGAINST SLYTHERIN!” 

You rolled your eyes at the announcer, completely ignoring the boo’s that had filled the air as you whizzed past the other houses even though it was you who got hit first. Just as Rees had raised his arm to score, you flew over him, swooping your arm underneath your broom until you felt the quaffle back in your palm and ripped it from his grasp. The match was becoming more intense by the second, Gryffindor was promptly catching up in points because of the penalties they were awarded from the illegal moves your team was making and it left you feeling more pressured that it was nearly a tie now, Flint reminded you of that every chance he zoomed past you.

Unbeknownst to you, Draco was watching you cautiously from across the field most of the game when he noticed how close everyone was trying to get to you. You didn’t see the way you were almost tugged back multiple times or were missed by inches when someone was about to push you. Or how the Beaters were deliberately directing the bludgers in your direction. You also didn’t see how irked you had made Rees with your constant scoring and with the sporadic few times you had cut him off or almost bumped into him - but your boyfriend did, and he was much more focused on your safety now than the Golden Snitch he or Potter hasn’t spotted yet. Instead of searching for it, he was purposefully maneuvering himself around in front of the other Chasers to throw them off their focal point towards you so that you would have a clearer path to fly through.

He watched as you pulled your broom upwards to try and twist away from the area but Rees had reached out and pulled at your ankle, sending you out of your seat as the quaffle fell while you tried to rebalance yourself. That was all the encouragement the blond needed when he hurtled down into the mess, kicking at the back of Rees’ broom and sending him quickly spinning on a dive before he could try and move any further. 

“FOUL AGAINST REES AND MALFOY FOR KICKING AND TUGGING!”

“MALFOY!” Flint roared as he flew past, “Potter’s spotted the snitch! This isn’t your place, get out of here, NOW!”

And when he looked up, sure enough, Harry was going around desperately with an arm outstretched towards the small glint of gold that was moving too fast. 

“Go, I’m fine!” You shouted out to him when you flew back up with the ball back in your arms.

It was like slow motion when he forced himself to leave your surroundings, everything around him was moving fast and intensely with everyone screaming wildly that he couldn’t think straight. In a daze, he haphazardly sped towards Harry but noticed the panicked look on the seeker’s face when he had lost sight of it again which directed his attention right back to you. You were right in front of the Gryffindor goal post, arm stretched over your head and releasing the quaffle with a harsh throw.

“Y/L/N MAKES THE GOAL, TEAMS ARE AT A TIE-”

It wasn’t until the very last minute that everyone, including you, had realized the flash of red that came hurtling into your side at full speed, Rees colliding so loudly with you that it echoed around the stadium in a powerful clang and crack.

Draco watched in horror as you were thrown off your broom, your now unconscious body falling like a rag doll with a speed that sent his stress levels into overdrive. He had never pushed down on his broom so fast, immediately abandoning his spot to bolt towards you even as Marcus was screaming at him to not go. 

A few feet above the ground and before you met it, he managed to loop his arm around your waist and heave you onto the front of his broom with a slight struggle as it was now raining hard and clouding his vision. He saw Madam Pomfrey and Mcgonagall rushing into the field, hands holding tightly onto their hats as they worriedly rushed towards the area where your broom had fallen and where Draco was hovering over with you. 

“TEAMS ARE TAKING A 10 MINUTE TIME OUT!”

Marcus had flown down towards him, face twisted in fury and annoyance as he approached. 

“Is there a reason you’re not being a seeker, today?” He spits, “because I’ve been seeing you do everything but your job.”

“My bloody girlfriend just got knocked out!” Draco seethed at him. “I’m not going back into the game, I’m going with her to the hospital wing.”

“Like hell you are,” Flint scowled, “if you leave, you'll forfeit us the game. If you stay and let Potter catch that Snitch so it’ll be over quicker, I will personally make sure that this is your last year on the team. You’re going to win this for us.”

“Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall called up to him, waving her arms hastily. “She needs to go to the infirmary, immediately!”

The two Slytherins were staring each other down aggressively as Draco contemplated the threat he was just given. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to throw a hex at Flint and leave with you, but he just swallowed thickly and nodded at him before descending towards the ground and letting you off carefully into the hands of Madam Pomfrey. A surge of fear ran through his body when he finally saw you clearly; a harsh red mark was making its way up to your neck, the corner of your bottom lip had split and doubled in size, there was a small scratch on your cheekbone. It made him feel queasy, but he tore his eyes away from you and hopped back onto his broom while glaring angrily at Marcus and the distant group of huddled Gryffindor’s. 

He was blinded in rage when the match resumed and even more enraged when Flint had cheered loudly when the announcer granted Slytherin a penalty for the injury Rees gave you, allowing them basically to get a free score in against Gryffindor. Draco let his eyes wander around for the snitch for the first time that day and he could hear his heart thundering in his eardrums in distress as the rain continued to make his search worse. All he wanted was to get out of the game to check up on you, and then he'd come back to the stadium to throw his fists into Rees’ face with maybe a few hits in on Marcus.

Just as he was losing hope, he saw a flash of gold whiz past him with a loud buzzing that shocked him into alertness. He didn’t care that catching the snitch would win the game, or the cup, or give him all the glory, no - this was his ticket out. He dived towards it with his arm outstretched, hand thrashing around in the wind as he tried to eagerly catch it. In seconds, Harry was right beside him, bumping him with his shoulder to try and throw him off the path but Draco only pushed back harder. There was a flurry of shouting as everyone watched, the announcer was yelling into the mic about the seekers going head-to-head, bludgers were flying past him. 

It was pure chaos and urgency, Draco could feel the fluttering of its wings beneath his palm and when Harry pushed into him one more time, he felt the coldness of the Snitch get trapped into his enclosed hand, the vibration of its wings sending a current of relief up his arm that spread throughout his whole body as he soared up into the sky while brandishing it to the schools’ painfully watchful eyes.

“MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, WINNING SLYTHERIN THIS YEAR’S INTER-HOUSE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

Draco hurriedly made his way down to the field where the rest of his house was pooling into, celebrating proudly and calling out for him to praise, but when he landed on the ground and was met with half of the Gryffindor team including Rowan Rees - all his wrath came flooding back into him. 

Angelina, another Gryffindor Chaser, had nudged Rowan with her shoulder, pointing towards the Slytherin Prince that was stalking towards them.

“Malfoy,” Rees started bitterly, “sorry about the girlfriend, I was only trying to knock the quaffle out her hands.”

“After she had already thrown it?” He glowered, walking closer up to the boy that was beginning to straighten himself out and flex. “Looked a little personal seeing how she was dragging you through the dust the whole game.”

“Accidents happen, mate,” Rees shrugged, “it’s only quidditch, you won didn’t you? Maybe you should be thanking me for giving you that extra push to win the game.”

A clear line had been crossed and everyone who was listening knew it. But before Rowan could say anything to try and drag himself out of the hole he had just dug himself into, he was being tackled into the ground with Draco above him throwing punches wherever he could land them. There was loud hooting and laughing coming from the Slytherins that gathered around the fight, cheering loudly for their House superior.

Rees was thrashing around on the ground, trying frantically to throw off the extremely infuriated boy that was repeatedly pounding into his face with bloodied and bruised fists. Oliver Wood ran up to the sudden brawl, Fred and George following closely behind him as they all started trying to rip the fighting boy’s apart from each other. Oliver had gotten Draco off briefly, allowing Rees to try and get a hit in but it was dodged at the last second as the blond quickly leaped up to his feet. The fight immediately ended when a muddy shoe had collided with Rowan’s jaw and Draco stepped back satisfied with the damage he had done, roughly shrugging off the grip Oliver still had on his arm.

“It’s only quidditch, right?” He spat venomously from above the Gryffindor who was holding his now battered face in pain. “That’ll teach you from putting your hands on a woman too.”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Madam Hooch bellowed as she broke through the crowd in a frenzy. “50 points from Slytherin, go wait outside Professor Snape’s office for further punishment, go right now!”

Draco did go, and instantly, but he didn’t go down to the dungeons to hear about the lengthy detention that he knew he was going to get and the scolding for being reckless and stupid. His feet carried his sore body up the many stairs that led to the hospital wing, his pace picking up swiftly when he saw the large double doors of the infirmary ajar and he was able to hear a faint and familiar voice speaking indistinctly. 

He threw open the doors, walking straight in as if he owned the place and ignored Pomfrey’s requests for him to leave as he made a beeline towards your hunched figure that was facing away from him. 

“I need to see her,” he said to the nurse quickly when she stopped in front of him. “I’ll leave soon, please.”

At the sound of his voice, you hastily turned around in your spot to face him, a yelp escaping your lips for moving too quickly through your injuries. Pomfrey stepped out of the way with a sigh allowing Draco to jog over to you.

“I’m going to kill him,” he scowled when he reached you. You were wearing a sling, a deep purple and yellowed bruise quickly set itself over the side of your arm and the same cuts he saw from earlier were still scattered over your features. His fingers ghosted over your skin and he let out a deep shaky exhale of anxiousness before moving his thumb up to graze your cheek tenderly.

“What happened to you?” You asked quietly in shock when you noticed his mud-splattered clothes and tattered fists. 

“Long story,” he drawled. “Don’t worry about me, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you muttered with a slight shrug that made you whimper lightly. “Did we win?”

He nodded quietly, his eyes still scanning sadly over your face with a frown. “I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

“Only if I can help,” you sniggered faintly, trying to make light of the situation and succeeding in doing so when you saw he had cracked a small smile. With his hand still on your cheek, he bent down to press a firm kiss on the top of your hair and then warmly on the side of your mouth that wasn’t bleeding.

“I’ll just let you finish him off then,” he mulled amusingly when he pulled away.

“Finish him off?”

The doors of the hospital wing were thrown open again, a sea of red flowing inside as they carried in a pummeled Rowan with a busted lip, bloodied nose, black eye, and deeply bruised jaw. You looked briskly between Rees and Draco, both of them staring daggers at each other and it rapidly clicked in your mind why your boyfriend had looked like he just walked through a battlefield in your absence.

“Oh.”