#snape’s hair flips

[dreamofrose]

I remember someone talking about snape’s hair flips, and then i remembered this scene ☺️

[loving-daisy]

Snitches and Potions | Severus Snape x Reader

loving-daisy masterlist

summary: Merlin knows that he didn't even have to lift a finger because Y/N Black would always choose Severus Snape in a heartbeat

words: 11.3k

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Severus Snape sat in the stands, his black eyes fixed on the emerald blur darting across the sky. Y/N Black, his best friend, was captaining the Slytherin Quidditch team for the second year in a row, and as their Seeker, she was ruthless—fast, strategic, and relentless.

He knew her well enough to see past the composed mask she always wore. The way she clenched the handle of her broom just a little tighter and the sharpness in her turns. She wanted to win and she wanted it badly.

Sirius Black, her older brother and his tormentor, was in the Gryffindor stands, shouting her name in a mix of taunts and encouragement. 

The contrast between them was stark. 

While Sirius played for Gryffindor’s team with reckless, cocky confidence, Y/N’s approach was different. She was focused, calculating, and played to win rather than to show off.

Snape wasn’t usually one for Quidditch, but he had never missed a match she played in. He would never admit it, but watching her chase the Snitch, defying gravity with a smirk on her lips, was one of the few things that made Hogwarts bearable.

A flash of gold appeared near the Gryffindor goalposts, and without hesitation, Y/N shot forward, her broom slicing through the air. Snape leaned forward instinctively, heart pounding despite himself.

“Come on, Black,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the fabric of his robes as she closed in on the Snitch.

The Gryffindor Seeker, a wiry seventh-year, was just a few feet behind her, pushing his broom to its limit. But Y/N was faster. Snape had seen her fly countless times, had even watched her practice in secret when she thought no one was looking. 

He knew her style. She didn’t lunge blindly for the Snitch. She was patient, calculated. 

And then, just when it seemed like the Gryffindor Seeker might overtake her, she swerved at the last second, forcing him to adjust. That split-second hesitation was all she needed.

With a sharp dive, she stretched out her gloved hand, her fingers closing around the Snitch.

The stadium erupted into noise, but Snape barely heard any of it. His eyes were locked on Y/N as she straightened up, wind whipping through her hair, her triumphant smirk unmistakable even from a distance. She held the Snitch high as the Slytherin stands exploded in cheers.

Across the pitch, Sirius Black groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Bloody hell, Y/N! You’re supposed to be a Gryffindor at heart!” he yelled, though there was a grudging sort of pride in his voice.

Y/N turned her broom sharply toward the Gryffindor stands and, without missing a beat, flipped her older brother off.

Severus let out a rare chuckle, shaking his head. 

That was Y/N Black. She was unapologetic, sharp-tongued, and effortlessly brilliant. 

He found himself smirking as she landed, her teammates swarming her in celebration.

Part of him wanted to go down there, to congratulate her before the rest of Slytherin stole her attention. But instead, he simply watched from his spot in the stands, arms crossed, as she basked in her victory. She didn’t need his words to know he was proud. She would just know.

As Y/N landed, her teammates swarmed her, shouting, clapping her on the back, and ruffling her hair. She barely acknowledged them, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd instead.

Then, without a word, she pushed past them.

“Oi, where’s she going?” one of the Chasers muttered.

“She’s probably off to rub it in her brother’s face,” another laughed.

But they were wrong. 

Y/N wasn’t heading for Sirius. She wasn’t even acknowledging the rest of Slytherin’s celebration.

She was walking straight toward the stands, straight toward him.

Severus Snape sat frozen for a moment, his arms still crossed, before hurriedly schooling his expression back into indifference. His heartbeat, however, betrayed him.

Y/N reached him, standing just in front of where he sat, her broom still clutched in one hand, the Snitch resting in the other. She tilted her head at him, her smirk sharp and teasing.

“You gonna congratulate me, or are you too busy sulking about whatever it is that you sulk about?” she taunted, breathless from the match.

Snape rolled his eyes. “As if I care about Quidditch.”

Y/N scoffed. “Oh, please. I saw you watching me.” 

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “You always do.”

Severus’s grip on his robes tightened, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You fly like an idiot. One wrong move, and you could’ve broken your neck.”

“Ah, so you were worried,” she teased, grinning.

“Hardly,” he muttered, but there was no venom behind it.

Y/N studied him for a moment before extending her hand, the one holding the Snitch. His brow furrowed in confusion as she placed it in his palm.

“A souvenir,” she said, shrugging. “For sitting through an entire match just for me.”

Severus stared at the Snitch in his hand, then back at her. His fingers curled around the cool metal, and for once, he didn’t have a sharp remark ready.

Y/N grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Come on, Snape. Walk with me before the team kidnaps me for some over-the-top victory party.”

And just like that, she turned, expecting him to follow.

With a sigh, one that was far too fond for his liking, Severus tucked the Snitch into his pocket and stood, trailing after her.

As they walked away from the roaring Slytherin crowd, Severus fell into step beside her, hands shoved into his robes. The Snitch sat in his pocket, its tiny wings twitching now and then, but he ignored it.

Y/N strode forward with that effortless confidence of hers, broom over one shoulder, head held high like she owned the castle. And in some ways, she did. 

She was a Black, a Slytherin, a bloody brilliant Seeker. Everyone either admired her, feared her, or wanted to be her.

And yet, here she was. Choosing to spend her post-victory moment with him.

They reached a quieter corridor, the distant cheers fading behind them. Y/N finally exhaled, tilting her head back against the cool stone wall. “Merlin, I thought that match would never end.”

“You made quick work of it,” Severus muttered, leaning beside her. “Wasn’t even a challenge, was it?”

She smirked, eyes glinting. “Not even close.” Then, nudging him with her elbow, she added, “You enjoyed it, admit it.”

He scoffed. “I tolerated it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but let it slide. Instead, she turned to him fully, studying him with an unreadable expression.

“You know,” she mused, “you’re the only one I actually wanted to talk to after that match.”

Severus swallowed, caught off guard. “Why?”

“Because you don’t treat me like I’m some bloody trophy,” she said simply. 

“Everyone else is off celebrating me—but you just… I don’t know.” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “You see me. Not just the captain, or the Seeker, or ‘Sirius Black’s little sister.’ Just me.”

Severus felt his throat go dry. He looked away, unsure what to say to that.

Y/N didn’t push him for an answer. Instead, she grinned, leaning closer. “So, since you’re such a dedicated fan now, you coming to my next match?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I must.”

She laughed. It was bright, unapologetic, and it was the kind of laugh that made even his cold, guarded heart warm just a little. 

“You must.”

Y/N pushed open the door to an empty classroom, stepping inside like she owned the place. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows against the stone walls, the only sound the faint echo of the ongoing celebration down in the dungeons.

Severus followed, closing the door behind them. “Skipping the victory party entirely, then?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N tossed her broom onto an abandoned desk and hopped up onto another, swinging her legs. 

“Please. If I stay any longer, they’ll shove Firewhisky down my throat and make me listen to Mulciber’s tragic attempts at flirting.” She smirked. “I’d rather be here.”

Severus leaned against the opposite desk, arms crossed. “With me?”

“With you.” Her voice was softer now, less teasing.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he looked down, pulling the Snitch from his pocket and watching it twitch in his palm.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to it. “Like it?”

Severus huffed. “You forced it on me.”

She tilted her head. “But you haven’t given it back.”

He hesitated, fingers tightening around the Snitch. The truth was, he liked having it. A reminder that, out of everyone in that bloody Quidditch pitch, she had chosen him to share her moment with.

Y/N grinned, clearly pleased with his silence. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Rolling his eyes, Severus flicked his wand at the candles, dimming them slightly. The atmosphere shifted into a quieter and more intimate setting. The usual playful edge between them softened, replaced with something unspoken but heavy in the air.

She watched him carefully, then sighed, leaning back on her hands. 

“You know, for someone who ‘doesn’t care about Quidditch,’ you sure looked invested today.”

Severus exhaled sharply. 

“I wasn’t invested—”

“You were leaning forward in the stands.”

“I was watching.”

“You muttered something under your breath when I went for the Snitch.”

“That doesn’t—”

“You were worried about me.” Her voice was light, teasing, but there was something searching in her gaze.

Severus clenched his jaw. “…You could have broken your neck.”

Y/N’s smirk faltered just slightly. “But I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.”

She studied him for a long moment, then hopped down from the desk, stepping closer. 

“Sev.” Her voice was softer now, almost careful. “You do care.”

He swallowed hard. It was infuriating, the way she could see right through him.

“…You’re so annoying,” he muttered.

She grinned. “And you love it.”

Severus refused to dignify that with a response, but he didn’t move away when she plucked the Snitch from his hand, rolling it between her fingers before throwing it back at him. Severus put it back in his pocket.

Silence settled between them, warm and heavy.

After a moment, Y/N smirked. “So, since we’re skipping the party, what do you suggest we do?”

Severus glanced at her, at the flickering candlelight dancing in her eyes.

“…Stay here,” he said finally. “Talk. Until they give up looking for you.”

Y/N hummed in approval, tossing the Snitch lightly into the air before catching it again. “Sounds perfect.”

And so they stayed.

Severus sat on the edge of the desk, arms crossed as he fixed Y/N with a sharp look. “Have you even read the new Advanced Potions textbook yet?”

Y/N, who had settled comfortably into the chair beside him, legs draped lazily over one armrest, snorted. 

“No, Severus, I thought I’d just wing it on my N.E.W.T.s.”

He sighed dramatically, pulling the book from his bag and flipping through the pages with an irritated sort of reverence. “Then you haven’t noticed the absurd number of errors in it.”

Y/N quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Errors? In the Slughorn-approved textbook?”

Severus scoffed. “Slughorn wouldn’t notice an error if it exploded in his face. Which, frankly, some of these might.” 

He jabbed at a particular page with his finger. “Here. Draught of Living Death. Ridiculous instructions. If you follow them as written, the potion will be unstable and potentially lethal.”

Y/N leaned forward, peering at the text. “It says to stir counterclockwise seven times.”

“Exactly.” He flipped a few more pages aggressively. “And this one—Babbling Beverage? Why in Merlin’s name would they suggest stewing the rat spleens first? That ruins the consistency completely.”

Y/N grinned, resting her chin on her hand. “You really love this stuff, don’t you?”

Severus paused, caught off guard. His fingers, which had been poised to flip to yet another grievous offense, hesitated over the pages.

“…It’s logical,” he said finally, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “Precise. Potions do what they’re supposed to if you follow the right process.”

Y/N studied him, something unreadable in her gaze. Then, she reached out and plucked the book from his hands.

“Oi—”

“Relax, Sev,” she drawled, skimming through the pages. “If you hate this version so much, why don’t you just rewrite it yourself?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You already know what’s wrong with it. Fix it. Make notes, change the instructions, do whatever you do with your creepy little personal experiments.” She smirked. 

“Merlin knows you’d probably make a better textbook than this rubbish.”

Severus stared at her, lips parting slightly in surprise. 

“…You might actually be onto something,” he admitted.

Y/N laughed, tossing the book back at him. “A rare moment of brilliance, I know.”

He rolled his eyes but tucked the idea away, running his fingers over the cover thoughtfully.

Maybe she was right.

Y/N smirked as she watched Severus flip furiously through the pages of the textbook, muttering to himself.

“This is completely wrong,” he grumbled, tapping the page with the tip of his wand. “They’re telling students to add crushed asphodel before the infusion of wormwood. That completely alters the reaction time. If anything, it weakens the potion instead of enhancing it.”

Y/N continued to rest her chin in her palm, watching him with amusement. “And what would you do instead, Professor Snape?”

Severus shot her a glare, but his irritation was undercut by the slight twitch at the corner of his lips. “I’d start with finely ground asphodel. Not crushed, because consistency matters. Then, let it steep after the wormwood infusion. That way, the properties mix properly instead of counteracting each other like whatever idiot wrote this thinks they should.”

Y/N whistled. “You really do think this book is a personal insult, don’t you?”

“It is an insult,” he snapped, flipping to another page. 

“This is supposed to be advanced potion-making, not first-year-level incompetence. Look at this. Elixir to Induce Euphoria. The instructions say to stir clockwise the entire time. That’s idiotic. You need to alternate clockwise and counterclockwise to balance the infusion properly, or it’ll be too volatile.”

Y/N couldn’t help but grin. 

There was something fascinating about the way he spoke when he got like this. It was sharp, passionate, as if the entire world should care about potion-making as much as he did.

“I have to say, this is the most passionate I’ve ever seen you about anything that isn’t glaring at my brother.”

Severus sighed dramatically. “If I didn’t have to waste my time dealing with him, I could actually focus on things that matter.”

Y/N chuckled. “So potions matter to you, then?”

He hesitated. “…Obviously.”

She tilted her head, watching him thoughtfully. “Then why don’t you make your own notes? Your own version of the textbook? You know more than half the idiots who’ll be using this, anyway.”

Severus was silent for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the cover. Then, slowly, he reached into his bag and pulled out a battered old notebook, its pages filled with scribbles, corrections, and improvements in his precise, slanted handwriting.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’ve already started, haven’t you?”

Severus cleared his throat, flipping through the notebook as if he hadn’t just been caught red-handed. “I just thought it would be useful to have the right information written down. For myself.”

Y/N smirked. “And for anyone smart enough to steal your book.”

He scoffed. “As if I’d let anyone get their hands on it.”

She grinned. “You’re a genius, Sev. You know that, right?”

He faltered for just a second, gripping the book a little tighter. “…Hardly.”

But Y/N just shook her head, leaning back. “Well, I think so.”

Severus didn’t respond, but he didn’t argue, either.

Instead, he went right back to ranting about the next mistake in the textbook. This time, something about a disastrous bezoar dosage and Y/N just listened, secretly enjoying every second of it.

Severus was mid-rant about improper bezoar usage when he noticed Y/N staring at him, a slow grin tugging at her lips. Her head still rested on her palm, her elbow propped lazily on the desk, eyes bright with amusement.

He faltered. “What?”

Y/N’s grin widened. “Nothing. Just enjoying the show.”

His brows furrowed. “I’m not performing.”

“You are,” she teased, tapping her fingers against her cheek. 

“A very passionate, very angry performance about the dangers of incompetent potion-making. Quite riveting, actually.”

Severus rolled his eyes, closing the textbook with a sharp thud. 

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are, ranting to me instead of to your cauldron in the dungeons,” she pointed out.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back against the desk. “Because you actually listen.”

Y/N’s expression softened slightly. “Of course, I do.”

A beat of silence passed between them. Severus shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, not used to being looked at like that. Like he was worth listening to.

“…You’re staring,” he muttered.

“Observing,” she corrected.

He scoffed. “And what, exactly, are you observing?”

She tilted her head, studying him like he was a particularly interesting puzzle. “Just that you get this look when you talk about potions.”

He narrowed his eyes. “A look?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, lips curling. “Like the rest of the world disappears, and it’s just you and whatever ridiculous mistake you’re trying to fix.”

Severus hesitated, unsure how to respond to that. He’d never thought about it before. But the way she said it made his chest feel strangely tight.

Y/N smirked at his silence. “It’s kind of nice, you know. Seeing you actually care about something.”

He huffed, looking away. “You make it sound as if I don’t care about anything.”

“Well,” she mused, “besides potions, glaring at Gryffindors, and being thoroughly unimpressed with everyone else…” 

She tapped her chin. “No, can’t say I’ve seen you care about much else.”

He shot her a flat look. “Hilarious.”

She grinned. “I try.”

Another pause. The candles flickered, casting soft shadows across the old classroom.

Then, Y/N’s voice was quieter, more thoughtful. “I like when you talk about potions.”

Severus glanced at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone.

Y/N shrugged, still watching him. “It’s nice hearing you talk about something that makes you happy.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came. Because no one had ever said that to him before.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, looking back down at his notebook. 

“…It’s not happiness,” he muttered. “It’s just—logic.”

Y/N just smiled knowingly. “If you say so, Sev.”

And despite himself, Severus didn’t argue.

Severus sat back against the desk, his fingers drumming lightly against the cover of his notebook. 

After a moment, he sighed and said, almost begrudgingly, “You played well today.”

Y/N blinked, then grinned. “Was that a compliment from Severus Snape? Merlin, I must be dreaming.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” she teased, leaning back in her chair. “Go on, say it again. Just so I know I didn’t hallucinate it.”

Severus huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m not repeating myself.”

“Pity,” she sighed dramatically. “Would’ve been nice to have it burned into my memory forever.”

He shook his head, but his gaze lingered on her, something softer in his usually sharp eyes. 

“You were impressive,” he admitted after a moment. “Even Slughorn wouldn’t stop talking about how Slytherin finally has a proper Seeker.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Slughorn, huh? What about you? Were you impressed?”

Severus scoffed. “I’m always impressed by competency. And considering the rest of the team is mediocre at best, it’s fortunate you know what you’re doing.”

Y/N laughed. “High praise, coming from you.”

He glanced away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “It was… entertaining. Watching you completely humiliate Gryffindor.”

Y/N smirked. “So that’s what you enjoyed.”

“Obviously.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, I am the best.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Now you’re pushing it.”

Y/N only grinned, nudging his knee with her foot. “Admit it, Sev. You liked watching me play.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I admit it, will you finally stop pestering me?”

“Maybe,” she teased.

Severus exhaled, looking at her for a long moment before shaking his head. “…You were good.”

Y/N’s grin widened. “Knew it.”

He shook his head again, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t quite hide the small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.

Severus pulled his hand from his robe pocket, the small golden Snitch resting in his palm. The tiny wings fluttered weakly against his fingers, as if reluctant to leave his grasp.

“I believe this belongs to you,” he said, holding it out to Y/N.

She looked at it, then at him, and instead of taking it, she just smirked and leaned back in her chair. “Keep it.”

Severus frowned. “What?��

“Keep it,” she repeated, her voice softer this time. “So you’ll always remember me.”

His fingers curled slightly around the Snitch as he processed her words, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. “…Why would I need something to remember you by?”

Y/N grinned. “Because, Sev, someday I’ll be famous. Hogwarts’ best Seeker, a legend in the making. And when that happens, you’ll want to say you knew me first.”

He scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. 

Severus looked down at the Snitch in his palm, the tiny wings brushing against his skin. He could have argued. He could have insisted she take it back. But instead, he closed his fingers around it and slipped it back into his pocket, letting the weight of it settle against him.

“…Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll keep it.”

Y/N smiled. “Good.”

And for the first time that night, Severus didn’t have a single complaint.

The next morning, the Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter, but Severus barely paid it any mind. He sat at the Slytherin table, absently picking at his breakfast, still adjusting to the idea of carrying a Snitch in his pocket. Her Snitch.

And then, like clockwork, Y/N slid into the seat beside him, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Morning, Sev.”

He huffed, not looking up from his plate. “You’re awfully cheerful.”

“I did win a match yesterday,” she reminded him smugly, grabbing a piece of toast. “And, you know, got a very rare compliment from a certain grumpy Potions prodigy.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to regret it.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” She smirked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Did you sleep well? You and your new prized possession, I mean.”

He stiffened slightly, but kept his expression neutral. “It’s just a Snitch.”

“My Snitch,” she corrected, taking a bite of her toast. “Did you put it somewhere safe?”

Severus exhaled through his nose, reaching into his pocket and subtly showing her the small golden sphere resting in his palm before tucking it away again. “Satisfied?”

Y/N grinned. “Very.”

He shook his head, turning his attention back to his breakfast, but he didn’t push her away when she leaned comfortably against him. 

Narcissa Black sat gracefully across from them, her sharp blue eyes scanning Y/N with mild curiosity as she stirred her tea. 

“You weren’t at the victory party last night.” It wasn’t a question. It was an observation, one laced with subtle judgment.

Y/N smirked, casually buttering her toast. “Oh, you noticed?”

“Of course, I noticed,” Narcissa replied, arching a perfectly shaped brow. 

“You were the star of the match, and yet, no celebratory gloating? No basking in the glory of your own success?” 

She tilted her head slightly. “Very unlike you, cousin.”

Severus huffed quietly, hiding his amusement behind his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Y/N shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.”

Narcissa’s eyes flickered between the two of them before landing back on Y/N. “You did disappear rather quickly after the match…”

Y/N smirked. “What can I say? Had better company.” She nudged Severus with her knee under the table, earning an unimpressed glance from him.

Narcissa’s gaze sharpened, her lips curving slightly. 

“I see.” She rested her chin on her hand, watching Y/N with something between amusement and suspicion. 

“So, instead of celebrating with your adoring fans, you spent your evening somewhere, locked away with Severus.”

Y/N gave an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand on her chest. “Oh, forgive me, dear cousin, for prioritizing meaningful conversation over drunken debauchery.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Please, you love the attention.”

“True,” Y/N admitted easily. “But I love annoying Sev more.”

Severus scoffed, not looking up from his plate. “How fortunate for me.”

Narcissa observed the two of them for a moment, then smirked. “Well, I do hope he made it worth your while.”

Y/N’s grin was immediate. “Oh, he did.”

Severus stiffened, glaring at her. “Don’t say it like that.”

Narcissa chuckled, sipping her tea. “Interesting choice of company, Y/N.”

Y/N just leaned back, perfectly unbothered. “Best choice, actually.”

Severus didn’t say anything but under the table, his fingers curled around the Snitch in his pocket.

“Anyways…Sirius came looking for you yesterday. Something about introducing you to his best mate, Potter. I think he fancies you,” Narcissa said, her tone light, but her gaze sharp as she watched Y/N’s reaction.

Y/N snorted, tearing off another bite of toast. 

“James Potter? Fancies me? Please, Cissy, don’t insult my intelligence.”

“I’m serious,” Narcissa pressed, twirling a strand of blonde hair between her fingers. 

“Sirius wouldn’t shut up about it. He kept saying how he thinks you and Potter would ‘get on brilliantly.’”

Severus, who had been silent up until now, suddenly gripped his fork a little too tightly. His jaw tensed, but he said nothing, staring at his plate as if it personally offended him.

Y/N sighed dramatically. 

“And yet, somehow, I doubt James Potter would be terribly interested in me, given the way he practically worships Evans.”

Narcissa waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, well, maybe he’s expanding his options. You are the Black everyone actually likes, after all.”

Severus scoffed, finally breaking his silence. “Potter is an arrogant, brainless git. You’d sooner find a Kneazle getting along with a Manticore than have an intelligent conversation with him.”

Y/N smirked at his tone. “Aw, Sev, that almost sounded jealous.”

His scowl deepened. “I don’t get jealous.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at him, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Right. And yet, you look like you’re about to hex your plate into oblivion.”

Severus set his fork down with deliberate care, clearly restraining himself. “I simply find it unbelievable that anyone would subject themselves to Potter’s presence willingly.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging him with her elbow. 

“Don’t worry, Sev. If I ever lose all sense of self-respect and go anywhere near James Potter, you’ll be the first to know.”

His expression didn’t soften, but the tight grip on his robes loosened ever so slightly. 

“See that you don’t,” he muttered.

Narcissa just smiled behind her teacup, watching them both with interest.

“As if Potter has a chance…” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Did he really think I’d choose him over Severus? He’s literally a bully, just like that Gryffindor of a brother of mine.”

Severus, who had been gripping his goblet a little too tightly, stilled at her words. His dark eyes flickered to her face, searching for any sign that she was joking. But she wasn’t. She had said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Narcissa, however, only hummed, looking thoroughly entertained. “Oh? So you are choosing Severus, then?”

Y/N smirked. 

“Obviously.” 

She leaned into Severus slightly, her shoulder pressing against his. “Why would I waste my time with a Potter when I already have the best company?”

Severus swallowed hard, his face carefully blank but his fingers twitched slightly against the table. He knew better than to read into her words, but for the first time that morning, the tension in his shoulders eased just a little.

Narcissa’s smirk widened. “Interesting,” she mused, tilting her head. 

“You’re lucky, Severus.”

Severus huffed, finally recovering enough to roll his eyes. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

Y/N grinned, resting her chin on her palm. “It is.”

And despite himself, Severus didn’t argue.

Narcissa took a slow sip of her tea, her smirk never wavering. 

“Well, that settles it, then. I suppose I’ll have to break the tragic news to Potter—he never stood a chance.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, please do. And be sure to tell Sirius that I’d rather hex myself than date his insufferable best mate.”

Severus let out a quiet breath, his fingers still curled around his goblet. 

“Speaking of your Gryffindor brother,” Narcissa continued, setting her cup down with a soft clink, “he was in quite the mood when I saw him last night. Apparently, he’s rather upset that you’re still spending all your time with Severus instead of ‘better company.’”

Y/N rolled her eyes, stealing a piece of fruit from Severus’ plate. 

“Right, because his definition of ‘better company’ consists of Potter and Lupin and that other friend of theirs. No, thanks.”

Severus sneered at the mention of them, his grip on his goblet tightening again. “Black should concern himself with his own miserable existence and stay out of yours.”

Y/N smirked, popping the fruit into her mouth. “Agreed.” 

She turned to Severus, nudging him with her knee. “But if he ever tries to drag me to the Gryffindor common room, do me a favor and curse me unconscious, yeah?”

Severus gave her a flat look. “I’d do it regardless.”

Y/N laughed, completely unbothered, while Narcissa shook her head in amusement. “You two are ridiculous.”

“And yet,” Y/N said, resting her head on Severus’ shoulder, “you’re still sitting with us.”

Narcissa merely smirked, watching the way Severus stiffened at the sudden contact, his ears just barely tinged red. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Once Narcissa had finished her tea and had her fun at their expense, she stood gracefully, smoothing out her robes. “Well, I’ll leave you two to… whatever this is.” She shot Y/N a knowing look before glancing at Severus with the same amused expression. “Try not to let her get you into too much trouble, Severus.”

Severus merely scowled, but Y/N grinned. “No promises.”

With a quiet chuckle, Narcissa turned and left the Great Hall, her blonde hair swaying as she went.

The moment she was out of earshot, Severus finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. 

“You didn’t have to say that.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Say what?”

Severus shifted slightly, his fingers brushing over his pocket where the Snitch still rested. 

“That you’d choose me over Potter,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t believe it.

Y/N rolled her eyes, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her palm. “But I would.”

He frowned, clearly skeptical. “It’s not a competition.”

“Well, if it were, you’d win.”

Severus looked at her then, really looked at her, as if trying to find the punchline in her words. 

But there wasn’t one. 

Y/N was being completely serious.

“…Why?” he asked after a beat.

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze softening just a fraction. 

“Because I actually like spending time with you, Sev.” She nudged his knee under the table, smirking. “And because you’re my favorite.”

Severus swallowed, looking away as a faint redness dusted his pale cheeks. He wasn’t used to being anyone’s favorite.

“…Idiot,” he muttered, but there was no venom in his voice.

Y/N grinned. “That’s me.”

And for the first time that morning, Severus let himself relax, the weight of the Snitch in his pocket grounding him as he sat beside the only person who had ever truly chosen him.

After finishing breakfast, Y/N and Severus stood from the Slytherin table, grabbing their books and making their way toward the dungeons for Potions class.

Severus walked beside her, his usual scowl in place, but Y/N could tell he wasn’t actually annoyed. If anything, he seemed more thoughtful than usual, his fingers idly drumming against the spine of his Potions textbook.

Y/N bumped her shoulder against his. “What’s with the brooding? Thinking of new ways to make Potter’s life miserable?”

Severus scoffed. “I don’t need to think of new ways. He’s miserable enough just existing.”

Y/N laughed. “That’s fair.”

They arrived at the dimly lit Potions classroom, where students were already filing in. Slughorn, ever the enthusiastic professor, was scribbling today’s instructions on the blackboard.

Y/N and Severus slid into their usual seats at the back, setting their books down.

“Another partnered assignment today,” Y/N observed, glancing at the board. “Think Slughorn will have the audacity to separate us?”

Severus smirked slightly, his dark eyes flickering toward the front of the room. “He wouldn’t dare.”

And, as if proving his point, when Slughorn finally addressed the class, he didn’t even bother reassigning partners.

“Excellent, excellent! You may stay with your current partners,” Slughorn announced. “Today, we’ll be brewing a Draught of Peace! A rather delicate potion. One mistake and it won’t work at all.”

Severus rolled his eyes as Slughorn droned on about the potion’s properties. Y/N, meanwhile, leaned toward him, grinning. “Bet I’ll finish mine before you.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You can’t even cut ingredients properly.”

“That’s slander.”

“That’s fact.”

Y/N huffed but still smirked as she flipped open her textbook. 

“Fine, Professor Snape, you do all the chopping, and I’ll handle the brewing.”

Severus sighed as if this was the greatest burden in the world, but he didn’t argue. He never did when it came to her.

And so, as the rest of the class struggled, Y/N and Severus worked seamlessly, the usual banter filling the space between them as they brewed yet another flawless potion—together.

As usual, working with Severus was effortless. While other students fumbled with their ingredients, misread instructions, or hesitated over their cauldrons, Y/N and Severus moved like a well-oiled machine.

Severus meticulously chopped the ingredients, his precise, practiced movements ensuring uniform slices. Y/N, despite her usual teasing, took the brewing process seriously, stirring at the exact pace and adding the ingredients only when Severus nodded in approval.

“Steady,” he murmured as she carefully poured in the powdered moonstone.

Y/N smirked. “You act like I’m about to botch the whole thing.”

“Because you would,” he replied dryly.

Y/N gasped in mock offense. “Rude.”

Severus merely shook his head, a rare, almost amused look flickering across his features. “Just keep stirring.”

They continued working, the soft bubbling of their potion filling the space between them. Around them, students groaned in frustration as some had cauldrons emitting faint purple smoke, while others had turned a worrying shade of green.

Slughorn made his way around the room, peering into cauldrons and offering words of encouragement (or, in some cases, looks of deep disappointment). When he reached their station, he beamed.

“Ah, exquisite work, as always!” he declared, clapping his hands together. “Perfect color, perfect consistency. Well done, well done!”

Severus merely inclined his head, while Y/N grinned. “Naturally.”

Slughorn chuckled. “I daresay, the two of you make quite the brilliant team. Perhaps I should have you brewing for me.”

Y/N nudged Severus. “Hear that, Sev? We’re brilliant.”

Severus scoffed, but his lips twitched slightly. “I am brilliant. You’re just lucky you sit next to me.”

Slughorn let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, you remind me of myself in my youth, Severus! Such confidence, such talent! If you ever have any interest in pursuing Potions beyond Hogwarts, I would be more than happy to offer guidance.”

Severus gave a polite nod. “Thank you, sir.”

Slughorn turned to Y/N. “And you, Miss Black. Remarkable work as well! Though I must say, I’m quite surprised you didn’t celebrate your Quidditch victory last night.”

Y/N shrugged, glancing at Severus briefly. “Didn’t feel like it.”

Slughorn raised an eyebrow. 

“Ah, well. More dedicated to your studies, I see! Excellent priorities, my dear.” 

He gave them both a final pleased nod before moving on to the next station.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Y/N turned to Severus. “See? Brilliant team.”

Severus exhaled, shaking his head as he began cleaning up their workspace. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late.”

And for the rest of the class, while their classmates struggled, Y/N and Severus sat back, their potion already perfected—just as always.

Severus sat with his quill resting idly between his fingers, his gaze flickering between his parchment and Y/N as she leaned over to copy his notes.

She didn’t even bother asking anymore. She just slid his notebook closer, turned her own to a blank page, and began copying down his meticulous handwriting with lazy, fluid strokes.

Severus should have been irritated. Should have snapped at her to take her own notes, to pay attention instead of relying on him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he watched as she absentmindedly chewed the end of her quill, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. A few strands of her dark hair fell forward, brushing against the parchment, and every so often, she tapped her fingers against the desk in an offbeat rhythm.

She had done this a hundred times before. Stealing his notes, ignoring her own half-written ones, leaning just a little too close without realizing it. But for some reason, today, Severus couldn’t look away.

“Sev,” Y/N suddenly said, not looking up, still writing.

He blinked, straightening slightly. “What?”

“You’re staring.”

His grip on his quill tightened. “No, I’m not.”

Y/N smirked, finally glancing at him from beneath her lashes. “You are.”

Severus scoffed, shifting in his seat, his expression settling back into its usual scowl. “You’re copying my notes. I’m simply making sure you don’t ruin them with your atrocious handwriting.”

Y/N gasped in mock offense, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest. 

“Atrocious? Excuse me, I happen to have flawless handwriting.”

Severus snatched his notebook back, flipping it shut. 

“It’s a disgrace.”

Y/N laughed, resting her chin on her palm as she gazed at him, entirely unbothered. “Then I guess you’ll just have to keep taking notes for me forever.”

Severus rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched slightly. It was just enough for Y/N to catch.

─ ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ──────────

The Slytherin common room was quiet that night, the usual chatter of students fading as most had either gone to bed or were off doing Merlin-knows-what in the castle. The fire crackled softly in the dimly lit space, casting long shadows across the stone walls.

Severus and Y/N sat side by side on the emerald-green sofa closest to the fireplace, books open on their laps.

Well, Severus was reading. Y/N was halfheartedly flipping through her textbook, occasionally tapping her fingers against the spine, clearly bored.

After a few minutes of silence, she let out a dramatic sigh, tilting her head to look at him. 

“Sev.”

He didn’t look up from his book. “What?”

“I’m bored.”

Severus exhaled sharply, still not looking at her. 

“Then go to bed.”

Y/N ignored that completely and shifted to rest her head against his shoulder. 

“Nah. This is fine.”

Severus stiffened for half a second before forcing himself to relax. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, leaning against him like it was the most natural thing in the world, but it always caught him off guard.

“You’re distracting,” he muttered, eyes still on his book.

“I’m existing,” she corrected, smirking against his shoulder.

“Exactly.”

Y/N chuckled, and the sound was warm, familiar. She didn’t move away, though, and after a moment, Severus found himself leaning into it.

They sat like that for a while, the only sounds being the flickering of the fire and the occasional turn of a page.

“I’m stealing your notes again tomorrow.”

Severus sighed, closing his book. “Of course you are.”

And when she smiled, drowsy and content, Severus simply shook his head.

The common room grew quieter as the fire burned lower, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Severus had long since stopped reading, though his book remained open in his lap.

Y/N had gone still beside him, her head slipping from his shoulder. He glanced down just in time to see her shift, curling up slightly as her head now resting against his lap.

Severus tensed.

His breath hitched, his entire body going rigid as if moving even an inch would somehow wake her. But Y/N didn’t stir. She simply exhaled softly, her face peaceful, her arms tucked beneath her head as she settled deeper against him.

For a long moment, Severus just stared.

Her hair spilled over his robes, the firelight casting a warm glow on her features. 

She looked… comfortable. Completely at ease.

He should wake her up. Tell her to go to bed.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he swallowed hard and carefully set his book aside. His fingers twitched as if debating whether or not to move, to touch her, but he quickly clenched them into fists, keeping them at his sides.

Merlin, she was infuriating.

Did she even realize what she did to him? How she invaded his space so easily, so effortlessly, like she belonged there?

Severus exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to lean back against the sofa. He couldn’t (wouldn’t) wake her.

Not when she looked like that. 

So, instead, he sat there, unmoving, his heartbeat entirely too loud in his ears. And as the fire crackled beside him, Severus Snape did something he never allowed himself to do.

He let himself enjoy the moment.

Severus hesitated. His fingers hovered just above Y/N’s hair, as if touching her would shatter the quiet, fragile peace of the moment.

But she was there, asleep on his lap, her breathing slow and even. The firelight cast soft golden hues across her skin, making her seem almost unreal like something delicate and untouchable.

Severus exhaled, then, before he could think better of it, finally let his fingers brush against her hair.

It was soft. Softer than he expected. His movements were tentative at first, barely there, but when she didn’t stir but simply nestled deeper against him, he let himself continue.

He didn’t know why he did it. He had never been one for tenderness, never the type to comfort or soothe. But with Y/N, it felt natural. 

His fingers threaded through her hair again, and his breath caught when she shifted slightly, a faint hum escaping her lips.

Severus stilled, his heart hammering against his ribs. But Y/N only sighed in her sleep, her body relaxing further against him.

His hand lingered for just a moment longer before he withdrew it, resting it tensely on the armrest.

This was dangerous.

She was dangerous.

Because if she kept doing this, kept looking at him like that, touching him like it meant something, falling asleep on him like he was someone safe, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend he didn’t want her.

And that terrified him more than anything.

────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ─

The wind was crisp as Y/N and Severus made their way down the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, the chatter of students filling the air. 

It had been a few weeks since that night in the common room—since Y/N had unknowingly ruined Severus with her presence, her warmth, the feeling of her hair slipping through his fingers.

And now, here they were, walking side by side, the snow crunching beneath their feet as Y/N tugged on his sleeve.

“Come on, Sev,” she said, linking her arm through his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You walk so slowly.”

Severus stiffened at the contact, his breath catching for just a fraction of a second.

She was touching him again.

And not just touching but rather clinging. As if she belonged there. As if she didn’t even have to think about it.

Y/N didn’t seem to notice his internal crisis, though. She simply grinned, leaning slightly into his side as they made their way toward Honeydukes.

“I don’t know why you even agreed to come,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder. “You hate sweets.”

“I don’t hate them,” Severus muttered, keeping his gaze firmly ahead, pretending that the warmth of her arm against his wasn’t distracting him. 

“I just don’t see the point in wasting my money on sugar when I could buy something useful.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? Sweets are useful. They’re essential, actually.”

Severus rolled his eyes, but he didn’t pull away.

He should have.

But he didn’t.

Because Y/N was still holding onto him, and Merlin help him, he liked it.

The second they stepped inside Honeydukes, Y/N all but dragged Severus through the shop, pointing at various sweets with an excited grin.

“Oh, you have to try these,” she said, grabbing a handful of Chocolate Frogs. 

“And these—” She tossed a few Sugar Quills into her basket. 

“Oh! And definitely these.”

Severus sighed, crossing his arms as she piled more and more sweets into her basket. 

“You do realize I never asked for any of this.”

Y/N grinned, completely unfazed. “That’s the best part. You don’t have to ask. I just know what you need.”

Severus scoffed. “And what exactly do I need?”

“Sugar.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I—”

Before he could finish, Y/N grabbed a small chocolate and unwrapped it. Then, before he could protest, she held it up to his lips.

“Open,” she ordered.

Severus stared at her, unimpressed. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” She wiggled the chocolate in front of his face. “Come on, Sev. Humor me.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

And yet…

He begrudgingly parted his lips just enough for her to pop the chocolate into his mouth.

Y/N beamed.

“See? Not so bad, right?” she teased, watching him closely.

Severus chewed, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he muttered, “It’s fine.”

Y/N gasped. “Fine? This is premium chocolate, Severus. Premium.”

Severus just shook his head, swallowing the chocolate. “Idiot.”

Severus sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. But when Y/N lifted the next treat to his lips, he didn’t resist.

By the time they left Honeydukes, Y/N had practically stuffed half a dozen different sweets into Severus’ mouth. Each time grinning triumphantly whenever he reluctantly accepted them.

Now, as they strolled back through Hogsmeade, Y/N happily munching on a Sugar Quill, Severus still tasted the remnants of chocolate and caramel on his tongue.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like you hated it,” Y/N teased, bumping her shoulder against his. “You ate everything I gave you.”

Severus shot her a flat look. 

“You shoved it in my mouth. What was I supposed to do? Spit it out?”

Y/N smirked. “You could’ve said no.”

Severus scoffed. “Like you’d listen.”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the cold winter air crisp against their skin.

Then, suddenly, Y/N stopped in front of a small tea shop, peering through the frosted windows. “Oh, let’s go in here for a bit. It’s freezing.”

Severus followed her gaze, immediately recognizing the shop. Madam Puddifoot’s.

His face twisted in disgust. “Absolutely not.”

Y/N turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because,” Severus muttered, glaring at the couples visible through the window, “this is practically a breeding ground for lovesick imbeciles.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “You would say that.”

Severus crossed his arms. “I refuse to set foot in there.”

Y/N, still grinning, hummed thoughtfully. “Alright. How about The Three Broomsticks instead?”

Severus hesitated, eyeing her warily. “And what’s the catch?”

Y/N linked her arm through his again, smirking. “No catch. Just butterbeer. And maybe, maybe, I’ll stop feeding you sweets for the day.”

Severus exhaled through his nose, pretending to be completely unaffected by the way she clung to him so easily.

“…Fine.”

Y/N beamed. “Good choice, Sev.”

And just like that, she pulled him along once more, her arm still wrapped around his.

The Three Broomsticks was warm and bustling with students escaping the cold. As soon as they stepped inside, Y/N led Severus toward a small table near the corner, away from the loudest groups.

She let go of his arm (much to his dismay, though he’d never admit it) and slid into her seat. 

“I’ll order for us,” she declared before he could argue, already making her way to the counter.

Severus sighed, rubbing his temples. He should’ve known letting her drag him here would mean losing every battle.

A few minutes later, Y/N returned with two steaming mugs of butterbeer, setting one in front of him.

“There,” she said proudly, sliding into her seat. “A drink and a break from my relentless generosity. You should be thanking me.”

Severus rolled his eyes but accepted the mug anyway. “I didn’t ask for your generosity in the first place.”

Y/N smirked. “Quit your whining, Snape.”

Severus huffed but took a sip of his butterbeer. It was warm, sweet, and undeniably comforting, not that he’d ever say that out loud.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the warmth of the tavern settling over them. Every now and then, Severus found himself watching her like how her fingers curled around her mug, how she tapped her nails idly against the wood, how her lips pursed slightly as she took a sip.

It was maddening.

She was maddening.

Y/N suddenly looked up, catching him mid-stare.

Severus immediately looked away, clearing his throat.

“What?” he muttered.

Y/N tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You were staring.”

Severus scoffed. “I was not.”

“Liar.” She grinned, leaning forward slightly. “See something you like, Sev?”

Severus choked on his butterbeer.

Y/N burst into laughter, her eyes shining with amusement as he coughed into his sleeve.

Severus opened his mouth but before he could, a familiar voice interrupted them.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Y/N turned in her seat, her smile vanishing as she spotted the person standing beside their table.

Sirius Black.

And behind him—Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew.

Severus clenched his jaw, already bracing himself.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, little sister,” Sirius drawled, his lips curled in amusement. “And with him, no less.”

Potter elbowed him. “Guess she has questionable taste.”

Severus scowled, but before he could snap back, Y/N spoke first.

“If you came all this way just to be annoying, then congratulations, you’ve succeeded,” she said flatly, leaning back in her chair.

Sirius chuckled. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You could be sitting with anyone—and yet, here you are, stuck with old Snivellus.”

Severus’ fists clenched under the table, his face carefully blank.

Y/N, however, just laughed.

“You’re so predictable, Sirius,” she said, shaking her head. 

“You think I care what you lot think?” She gestured between them lazily. 

“If I wanted to sit with idiots, I’d let you all join us. But I’d rather not lose brain cells, thanks.”

Sirius raised his brows, clearly surprised by her sharpness.

Lupin sighed, giving her a wary look. “Y/N, you really don’t—”

“I do,” she interrupted, her tone unwavering. “Now, if you don’t mind, we were in the middle of something.”

Sirius scoffed, but Potter pulled at his sleeve. “Leave it, mate. Let her sit with her pet snake if she wants.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed dangerously. “At least he’s not an arrogant, self-obsessed git,” she shot back.

Potter’s smug expression faltered.

Sirius let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t realize you hated us that much.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “I don’t. But I hate this. The way you always think you can tell me what to do. Who to be around.”

“Sirius… I’m not you,” she murmured. “I never was.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Fine. Whatever.” He turned to leave, pausing only once. “Don’t come crying to me when he betrays you.”

With that, he walked away, the others trailing behind him.

A heavy silence hung in the air.

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. “Merlin.”

Severus, who had been deadly quiet through the entire exchange, finally spoke.

“…Why did you do that?”

Y/N looked at him, confused. “Do what?”

“Defend me,” he muttered, his voice oddly unreadable. “Against them.”

Y/N frowned. “Severus, I’d defend you against anyone.”

The words were so simple, so obvious to her. But to him…

Severus stared at her, something unreadable flickering behind his dark eyes.

And then, slowly he reached for his mug again, taking a long sip of butterbeer to cover the unbearable warmth spreading through his chest.

“…You’re an idiot,” he muttered.

Y/N grinned. “Maybe. But I’m your idiot.”

Severus scoffed, rolling his eyes.

But he didn’t argue.

Severus watched as Y/N slumped back in her chair, exhaling a tired sigh.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twirled the handle of her butterbeer mug between her fingers, her gaze distant. 

“I was just thinking…” She hesitated, then let out a humorless chuckle. “I wonder how long I have before my father pushes me to some pureblood boy.”

Severus stiffened.

Her words settled between them, heavy and unspoken.

It wasn’t surprising, really. It was expected for someone like Y/N, from a prestigious family like the Blacks. Arranged marriages, strategic unions, keeping the bloodline pure.

But no lie, the thought of Y/N being forced into a life she didn’t want, with someone she didn’t choose made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

He swallowed, his voice carefully neutral. “…Do you have anyone in mind?”

Y/N scoffed. “As if it’ll matter. It’s not like I’ll get a choice.” 

She tapped her nails against the table, sighing again. “I’m sure my father already has someone lined up. Probably some arrogant pureblood twat who thinks he owns the world.”

Severus’ grip on his mug tightened. Of course he does.

“You don’t have to do it,” he said quietly.

Y/N gave him a knowing look. “You know that’s not how it works, Sev.”

He clenched his jaw. Of course it isn’t.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, with a wry smile, Y/N nudged his foot under the table. 

“Unless you want to marry me, Snape.”

Severus nearly choked on air.

Y/N burst out laughing at his reaction, but there was something in her expression like she was only half joking.

Severus forced himself to breathe. 

“You really need to stop saying things like that.”

“Why?” she teased. “Does it make you nervous?”

Severus huffed. “It’s infuriating.”

Y/N grinned. “Good.”

But as she took another sip of her butterbeer, Severus noticed how her fingers curled slightly tighter around the mug. How her smile, bright and teasing as always, didn’t quite reach her eyes.

And he hated that.

Hated that she felt trapped.

Hated that, no matter what she wanted, the world would still try to dictate her fate.

Without thinking, he muttered, “I’d rather it be me than one of them.”

Y/N stilled.

Slowly, she set her mug down, her eyes meeting his. 

“What did you just say?”

Severus hesitated. He hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t even realized he’d said it aloud.

But now that he had…He didn’t take it back.

Y/N blinked at him, and for the first time, there was no teasing, no laughter.

Severus exhaled sharply and looked away. 

“Forget it.”

Y/N, however, did not forget it.

Instead, she just kept staring at him, something unreadable in her gaze.

Something dangerously close to hope.

Severus’ breath caught in his throat.

He turned to look at her, but Y/N was already staring at him with her eyes unwavering.

“No,” she said, voice quiet but firm. 

“Tell me, Severus. Because I swear… if I heard whatever it is that I think I heard, then…” 

She swallowed, her fingers curling against the table. 

“I’d give it all up.”

Severus’ heart stopped.

For a moment, all he could hear was the low hum of The Three Broomsticks around them—the chatter of students, the clinking of glasses, the distant sound of rain beginning to drizzle outside.

But right now, none of it mattered.

Not when she was looking at him like that.

Like he was something worth choosing.

Severus exhaled sharply, forcing himself to speak. 

“Y/N… don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” she challenged, leaning closer. 

“Because it’s impossible? Because you think I wouldn’t do it?” Her voice softened, gaze searching his. 

“Because you don’t want me to?”

Severus clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists beneath the table.

Of course he wanted her to.

But she was a Black. She had a future already planned—one that had nothing to do with him.

But then, she was here. 

Offering, choosing him, despite it all.

“Y/N… if you say something like that, you can’t take it back.”

Y/N gave him a small, lopsided smile. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want to.”

Severus hated how much that affected him.

Because the truth was—if things were different, if the world wasn’t what it was…

He’d choose her, too.

Slowly, cautiously, he reached across the table, his fingers barely brushing against hers.

“Y/N…” His voice was quiet, unsteady. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But she only turned her hand over, letting her fingers lace through his.

“Sev,” she murmured, “I do.”

Severus stared at their intertwined fingers, his breath unsteady.

She wasn’t letting go.

Did she understand what she was saying? What she was offering?

Giving up her family’s expectations—for him? Throwing away a life of power, wealth, and status because of a quiet, half-spoken confession he hadn’t even meant to say?

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

His grip tightened slightly around her hand, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“You’d really do that?”

Y/N exhaled, something relieved in her expression. 

“I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Severus felt something in his chest ache.

“I don’t want you to regret it,” he murmured.

“I won’t,” she said immediately. “But you have to tell me, Sev… if I gave it all up—my family’s expectations, the stupid arranged marriage—if I walked away from all of it…” 

She hesitated, then asked, softer, “Would you want me?”

Severus inhaled sharply.

The answer was yes. Of course it was yes.

But admitting it and saying it aloud would make it real.

And if he let himself have this, let himself believe that someone like her could choose someone like him…

“I—” His voice faltered, thick with something he couldn’t name. “Y/N, this isn’t fair to you.”

Y/N let out a soft, exasperated laugh. “Severus, I’m the one making this choice. And I’d choose you. Every time.”

Severus felt his world tilt.

Every time.

He looked at her then and for the first time in his life, he let himself want.

Slowly, hesitantly, he raised their joined hands, pressing his lips lightly against the back of hers.

It was the smallest, softest thing.

But Y/N inhaled sharply, eyes widening because she knew. She knew what it meant.

Severus pulled away just slightly, his lips barely brushing against her skin as he whispered, “Then I’d choose you, too.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

He held her gaze, his fingers still curled gently around hers, his lips still tingling from where they had touched her skin.

Y/N swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Say it again.”

Severus exhaled shakily. He didn’t need to ask what she meant.

“I’d choose you,” he murmured.

Her grip on his hand tightened, like she was trying to ground herself. And then, without thinking, Y/N surged forward, wrapping her arms around him.

Severus stiffened but only for a second. Because as soon as he processed what was happening, he melted into it.

His arms hesitated before slowly wrapping around her, his hand coming up to rest on the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair.

She smelled like fresh strawberry milk and ink and something inherently her, something warm and safe and entirely forbidden.

“I meant it, Sev,” she whispered against his shoulder. 

“I don’t care about any of it. I just—” She pulled back slightly, her hands gripping the front of his robes. 

“I want you.”

“Y/N…”

She shook her head. 

“No, don’t try to push me away again. You want me too, I know you do. So tell me, Severus Snape—do you want me enough to fight for this?”

He would burn the entire world if it meant keeping her.

His grip on her waist tightened as he exhaled, slow and deliberate.

“Yes,” he murmured. “I’ll fight for it.”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, eyes searching his. “You mean it?”

Instead of answering, Severus did the one thing he’d never allowed himself to do.

He leaned in, slowly and carefully, giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

And when their lips finally met, it was soft and tentative, like the two of them were still learning how to have this, how to believe in it.

But then Y/N sighed against his mouth, her hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer and suddenly, there was nothing hesitant about it.

Severus kissed her like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life and didn’t know if he’d ever get it again.

Because maybe he wouldn’t.

Maybe the world would take this from him.

But not today. And maybe not ever. 

Today, she was his. Tomorrow, she’ll be his. 

Severus tightened his grip on her waist, searching her face as if trying to make sense of her words.

“You know you’ll get disowned for being with a half-blood,” he muttered.

But Y/N only laughed. A soft, amused sound, like the thought of it didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“At least my mother would have the pleasure of blasting my face off that stupid family tree,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She’s been dying to do it for years, anyway.”

Severus frowned. “Y/N—”

“No, Sev.” She reached up, brushing a strand of his dark hair away from his face. 

“I mean it. My family doesn’t control me. Not my mother, not my father, not Sirius—no one.” Her voice softened as she cupped his cheek. 

“I choose you.”

Severus inhaled sharply.

He had spent his whole life being a second choice. An afterthought. Someone people tolerated but never chose.

But Y/N… she wasn’t hesitating.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” he whispered, barely trusting his voice.

Y/N smiled. Smirked, actually. “I do.” 

She leaned closer, eyes flickering between his lips and his gaze. 

“Now, are you going to keep questioning my life choices, or are you going to kiss me again?”

Severus let out something between a sigh and a laugh before giving in.

He kissed her.

And this time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing.

Because, for once in his life, someone had chosen him.

As if she hadn’t just turned his world upside down, Y/N pulled away, settled comfortably beside him, and asked, 

“So, tell me about that new potion you were working on.”

Severus blinked. “What?”

She smirked. “You were ranting about it last week, remember? Something about stabilizing the Wolfsbane formula? I was listening, you know.”

Severus stared at her, still reeling from everything that had just happened. The kiss, the way she had chosen him so effortlessly. And now, she was acting like it was just another normal afternoon between them.

But that was Y/N Black. She had always been like this. Unshaken. Unbothered. Acting like she hadn’t just kissed him like she meant it.

And Merlin help him, but Severus loved that about her.

He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N just grinned. 

Severus rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Fine. If you must know…” He turned slightly, getting into his usual lecture mode. “The problem with the Wolfsbane Potion is its volatility when stored improperly. The key is stabilizing the aconite concentration without diminishing its effects—”

And just like always, Y/N listened.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded in quiet interest, and let him speak.

And for the first time in his life, Severus felt like someone truly wanted to hear what he had to say.

They had been deep in conversation—Severus explaining the intricacies of potion stabilization, his voice passionate, his hands gesturing slightly as he spoke.

And then, out of nowhere, he said—

“And did you know, for the longest time, I have had my eyes on you and you don’t even realize that I’m so in love with you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

She turned to him, eyes wide, searching his face for any hint that he was joking. But Severus was dead serious.

His dark eyes held hers, unwavering, like he had needed to say it. Like it had been clawing at him for years. And for once, he didn’t look like he regretted speaking.

Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it again, completely caught off guard. 

“You—” She let out a breathless laugh. 

“You just say things like that in the middle of a potions discussion?”

Severus smirked slightly, but his voice was softer when he said, “I suppose I do.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, a grin tugging at her lips. “Sev—”

“I mean it.” His fingers twitched where they rested against the table. 

“I have for a long time.”

Y/N’s chest ached.

Slowly, she reached over, threading her fingers through his. 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m so in love with you, too.”

Something in Severus’ expression softened.

He squeezed her hand.

“Good,” he murmured.

Severus furrowed his brows as Y/N suddenly pulled away, tilting her head at him with a knowing smirk.

“Where’s my Snitch, Sev?” she asked.

Severus hesitated for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his robes, fingers brushing against the small, familiar golden ball. He had carried it with him every day since she gave it to him, unwilling to part with something so hers.

Wordlessly, he handed it back.

Y/N took it with a quiet hum, running her fingers over the cool metal before pressing it open with ease.

Severus watched as the delicate wings fluttered, revealing a small folded note inside. His stomach tightened—he had never opened it before. He hadn’t even realized there was something inside.

Y/N didn’t say anything. She simply pulled out the note, unfolded it, and turned it around for him to see.

Severus’ breath hitched.

There, in her familiar handwriting, were three simple words:

“I choose you, Severus Snape.”

His heart stopped.

And then it raced.

His lips parted slightly as he stared at her, eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

But she only smiled, pressing the Snitch back into his palm. 

“Keep it for me, won’t you?” she murmured.

Severus swallowed hard, fingers curling tightly around the Snitch, holding onto it like a lifeline.

He had never been given something so precious before.

And now, he swore he’d never let it go.

“…Always,” he whispered.

End.

[agreeewrites]

What's My Name? - R.B.

Bully!Regulus Black x fem!reader

summary: you’ve befriended the emeralds and few other Slytherin’s. Regulus is drawn to you like a magnet, but knows you have no business associating with them or their families, so he tries to scare you off. It backfires spectacularly.

cw: MDNI 18+ Regulus tries to white fang you. degradation, bullying, toxic relationships and friend groups, future death-eaters, trauma, Black Family Angst, choking, dry-humping, p in v sex

an: Ik everyone has a different marauders!era slytherin group, so here’s a quick breakdown of my personal headcanon:

Inner circle: Regulus Black, Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., Pandora, and Dorcas Meadowes (the emeralds)

Outer circle: Severus Snape, Avery, Mulciber, Emma Vanity, Charity Burbage, Aurora Sinistra, and Wilkes.

Circle-adjacent: Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and the Marauders

There is also the much darker group with Rabastan Lestrange, Thorfinn Rowle, and the Carrow’s, who actively prey on some of the others for Voldemort’s Cause.

────────────────────────

No matter how hard Regulus tried, you refused to leave his orbit. You had no business affiliating with him and his friends, and had no idea what that affiliation truly meant. It meant darkness. It meant bloodshed. It met imminent and very real danger. A war was brewing right under your nose.

Regulus had been born and bred for this, as had most of his friends, but you…you were an innocent. Intelligent, witty, trusting. As much as he tried not to care, he couldn’t stand to watch your light be snuffed out for simply existing around them: metaphorically or literally.

But no matter how many times Regulus tried to run you off, spare you from what came next, you would not heed. In fact, you seemed to take his animosity as a challenge, leaving him in the predicament of being your unwitting adversary.

You were in the Slytherin common room now, curled up by the fireplace with Pandora, Evan, Barty and a few others, doing more gossiping than studying despite the piles of books and parchment on the floor around you. The greenish light of the lake contrasted with the glow of the fire against your face, creating an otherworldly halo around you.

You hair was pulled back, revealing the slender curve of your neck, the dip in your v-neck sweater where a silver pendant rested against your clavicle.

You laughed at whatever terrible joke Barty made and Regulus rolled his eyes, turning back to the spell book in his lap. He was studying alone, having told Evan a number of times to fuck off and let him work on his assignments in peace.

“Regulus!” Emma called suddenly, and he cringed, pretending he didn't hear his Quidditch captain. “Reg!” She called again.

He closed his eyes, willing them all to disappear.

“Regulus fucking Black!” She hollered, loud enough for the whole common room to fall silent.

He clapped his book shut and stalked over to where you all were sitting, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other clamped on his book.

“Yes?” He droned, leaning against the arm chair Emma was sitting in.

“Can you help me with this?” Emma asked, holding up her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.

Annoyance prickled along his skin. “What good is a genius pet if she doesn't help with your work?” He asked, leveling you with his coldest stare.

You tilted your head, eyes flicking from his black, curly hair to his leather shoes, and didn't respond.

“She said she wouldn't help me,” Emma pouted.

“I said I wouldn't do it for you,” you corrected.

“Barty, then?”

“No can do, Reg,” Barty responded, coughing up a lungful of pungent smoke, waggling a joint in Regulus’ direction.

Emma waved the smoke from her face. “Will you help, Reg? I have to get a good grade in the class or I could lose my spot on the team. And you know these lot are useless at spells.”

He sighed and took the assignment from her hands, flipping through the pages. It was rudimentary work, things she really should know in order to defend herself.

“Can't help you,” Regulus said, handing it back to her. “If you can't do this, maybe you should be demoted.”

The group ooooh’d at his dig.

“Reg!” Emma whined.

“Ignore him, Em. Not everyone takes to dark magic as easily as the ancient and most bitchy house of Black,” you quipped, narrowing your eyes at him.

Regulus resisted the urge to clench his jaw, feigning the nonchalance you wore like a second skin. The group swiveled to look at him.

“All magic, really. But thank you, darling,” he purred, winking at you.

“You should have seen Sirius in advanced Transfiguration last semester, he's a natural. Truly a gifted wizard,” you continued.

“Hot as fuck, too,” Evan added, just to dig the knife in a little deeper.

Regulus’ blood began to simmer, his temperature rising beneath his dark robes. He tsked under his breath, shaking his head. “I thought you'd be smart enough to not fall for his clown act.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Evidently not.”

“I wouldn't touch a Black with a twenty foot pole,” you replied, leaning back on your hands, stretching your long legs out in front of you, your skirt sitting high on your thighs.

“Who said anything about a pole?” Regulus replied, mimicking your condescending head tilt.

The group snickered, watching your verbal sparring like it was a duel.

“You sound a bit jealous, Reggie. Need a little attention?”

Reggie. His mask nearly slipped, he was so caught off guard by the nickname on your sharp tongue. “May as well, since you give it out so freely.” He glanced down at your shapely legs, punctuating his point.

Your head fell back as you laughed, your chest pressing up and tits bouncing, and he felt an irritating kick in his trouser as the heat of his anger took a new, sinful shape.

“It's the 70’s, love. Are you still so prudish?” You lifted your head, pining him with eyes fierce enough to cleave him in half.

He smirked. “Far from it. Just selective.”

“Don't see much of a selection to chose from,” you chuckled, earning another spike of laughter from the group. “What I see is a spoiled youngest son with nothing better to do than needle the people around him to fill the hole in his chest.” You got to your feet, shouldering your bag.

Regulus felt like he'd been punched clean through the sternum, your words never failing to cut to the quik.

“Spoken by a girl with nothing better to do than fish for a rich husband that might save her from her home in the gutter. Trust me, nothing can fill the hole of inadequacy, y/l/n.”

You stepped over Evan and Barty's tangled limbs and left without another word, leaving Regulus’ cruelty to echo off the glass and stone, the group silent.

Regulus turned on his heel and disappeared into the boys dormitory, guilt dogging every step.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The Quidditch match was in full swing, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and the score was neck and neck. It was up to Regulus and the Gryffindor Seeker now, since neither team could get a leg up through the rings.

You sat in the stands sipping hot chocolate with Marlene, Pandora, and Dorcas, Barty pouting to your left because he couldn't sit with Evan in the Slytherin stands.

Regulus hovered a few meters away, his eyes trained upwards, catching every falling leaf and ripple of air around him. You hated how handsome he looked in his Quidditch robes, his lean body relaxed on the broom despite the stakes.

That was Regulus, un-fucking-shakeable. And it drove you insane that you could never get a rise out of him, but he managed to needle one out of you time and time again.

He was as relentless as a northern wind, and you couldn't help but be swept away.

His dark curls framed his angular face, those perpetually sleepy eyes the most arresting green. Sure, everyone thought Sirius was hot, but Regulus was beautiful, ethereal almost, and he wrapped around your mind like a constrictor.

You watched as the other Seeker suddenly took off above the Hufflepuff stands, in pursuit of something, and the Gryffindor stands cheered. But Regulus remained motionless, watching his opponent like a cat trailing a mouse. Even as Slytherin urged him to take up the chase, he remained unmoved, bidding his time.

His bottomless patience would be awe-inspiring if it wasn't so damn frustrating.

You wouldn't have an issue with Regulus, maybe even could have been friends with him, if he hadn't taken issue with you first. You had no idea what his fucking problem was, whether it was because your family was poor, you had better grades than him, or what. He loathed you from the moment you showed up in the Slytherin common room, and you've yet to receive an explanation.

You'd been saddled with a one-sided rivalry, but you'd be damned if you let him defeat you now after a full semester of back and forth.

The other Seeker pulled up short, whipping his head around like he'd lost something, and you saw Regulus crack a smirk, his canines white and sharp.

Regulus turned his head suddenly, quick like a bird, and then he was off in a blur of motion. His opponent was all the way across the pitch, entirely too far to get there in time.

A moment later— “Regulus Black has caught the snitch for 150 points! Slytherin wins!”

The Slytherin stands erupted with cheers while every other house booed, including your own. But you knew a Slytherin victory meant a rager in the dungeons, so you kept your lips sealed.

Instead, you watched Regulus land at the center of the pitch, the golden snitch held lazily between his pointer finger and thumb above his head. Any other Seeker would have been parading around the field, or flying in wide circles over the stands, screaming their head off, but Regulus was silent. His victory spoke for him.

Although, you knew he'd still be smug as fuck later.

As soon as the stands began to drain, you, Pandora, and Barty caught up with the rest of your Slytherin friends, all of them buzzing about the victory, even melancholic Severus. By the time you all reached the dungeons, a party was already in full swing.

Music thrummed along the walls, so loud it caused ripples in the Black Lake, making the emerald-tinged moonlight shift and dance along the floor. You happily accepted a shot of gin, then another before letting Evan cajole you out onto the dance floor.

Sweat pooled along your spine as the music wore on, your hair wild and loose down your back as you danced, electric energy flowing through you.

A cheer came up from the entrance and everyone turned towards the commotion. The Slytherin Quidditch team strode into the room, black robes billowing behind them. Regulus stood at the front, of course. Even from several meters away, you could see the confident glimmer in his eyes, the arrogant tilt of his chiseled jaw.

Fucking Black’s.

Like a magnet, his eyes found yours across the room, and you nearly tripped over Evan’s feet at the venom they held. But he looked away as quickly as he found you, getting swept up by the crowd and disappearing from your line of sight.

You tracked down another shot and rejoined Evan and Barty on the dance floor, squished between them in a tangle of limbs. Impossible to tell who’s hands were where, just a mess of sensation and touch. The temperature in the common room was rising expontentially, so you shed your sweater, leaving you in your skirt and a white camisole, sweat making the fabric cling to your skin.

A few songs passed like that, and a blonde guy you barely know, Rowle, you thought, took your friends place when they tapped out to smoke. You rolled your body against his, enjoying the way his thick muscles felt beneath his robes, the hungry way he was staring down at you. But you were about ready to take a break yourself, the musky smell of weed calling your name from across the room, when the hair on the back of your neck suddenly rose.

You looked around, searching for the source of your bodies response, when you locked eyes, once again, with Regulus.

He was sitting in a circle of couches against the glass wall with your shared friends, a halo of smoke around his head, a girl perched on his lap, sucking at his neck while he took a drag off of a cigarette. But his eyes were glued to you, tracking every movement you made with the same intensity he tracked the golden snitch.

Confidence wafted through you, and you wrapped your arms around your dance partners neck, letting him dip you so low your hair pooled on the floor, your tits nearly falling out of your shirt. You rolled back up slowly, articulating every vertebrae in your spine until you were chest to chest with your partner, sharing the same breaths.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Regulus choke on the smoke, dislodging the girl from his skin, and you smirked.

You let your partner turn you, showing every angle of your body, and you dropped low, circling your hips in time with the resinous goth song as you rose back up.

Regulus' cigarette hung limp between his fingers, his perfect jaw a little slack.

Emboldened, you broke away from your partner, letting yourself get lost in the sensuous, thrumming beat. Your arms rose above your head, your shoulders and hips swaying in time. It felt like you were hypnotizing him, his eyes glued to every undulation of your hips, and you couldn't recall a time where you felt more alive.

Too soon, though, the music changed to a more electro-pop vibe, and you slipped reluctantly off the dance floor, the taste of smoke beckoning you across the room.

You sauntered over to the circle, pointedly ignoring Regulus as you approached.

“There she is,” Even cooed, extending an arm to you. “You looked amazing out there.”

You smiled, sliding into his lap and taking a drag from the joint between his fingers. “Thank you, lovely.” You smiled sweetly up at him, and you could have sworn he started drooling.

“Feels even better,” Barty teased, sprawled out on the couch beside Evan, clearly a little too inebriated already.

You winked at him, and he flushed a deep scarlet. Pandora, who was resting on the floor between Dorcas’ legs, chuckled at his expense.

Regulus was quiet, per usual, watching as the group chattered around him, turning the golden snitch he caught over and over in his long fingers.

The smoke made your mind a little hazy, your tired muscles from dancing going loose, and you sagged into Evan’s side, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Regulus’ fingers tightened on the snitch, his jaw feathering, and your stomach swooped with nervous excitement. You’d never been able to rattle him before. Had you finally knocked the monolithic Regulus Black off of his axis?

“Reg, why so quiet?” Evan asked, nudging his leg with his boot.

Regulus raised a brow. “What would you like to talk about, Rosier? Fucking Junior? Or eye-fucking y/l/n?”

“We can talk about eye-fucking y/n.” Evan winked down at you, and you rolled your eyes. Avery barked a laugh from his spot on the other side of Regulus.

“Yes, let's,” Barty added, raking his willowly fingers through your hair draped over Evan’s arm. You hummed under the attention, knowing it was all in good, hedonistic Slytherin fun.

Well, almost all in good fun.

As always, Regulus couldn't let your ego inflate too much. “It's hard not indulge in a little novelty, no matter how ineffectual.”

Ouch. His words landed like barbs on your skin, but you ignored him, leaning into Barty’s attention with light moan.

Regulus shifted a little in his seat, his hands falling over his lap, and you nearly smiled. Regulus may act all high and mighty, but he wasn't impervious.

“Look at you,” Even purred, blowing smoke over your heated skin, your decolletage exposed as you stretched towards Barty. “Prettiest girl at Hogwarts, stretched across my lap.” You flushed, squirming a little in his lap, and Evan groaned. “You're torturing me, baby.”

Barty tugged on your hair, sending a skitter of pleasure down your spine and craning your head back even further. “Oh, keep doing that. He loves being tortured.”

“What a good girl,” Regulus hummed, and your pussy throbbed, soaking through your underwear. It was a rush, being admired by the heirs of some of the most powerful families in the magical world. But hearing those sweet words from Regulus, twisted into degradation, did sick things to your mind. “She's on track to graduate with her perfect, filthy-rich husband, and spend the rest of her days as mindless, fertile eye candy.”

You flinched, not that the boys noticed, and sat up a little, suddenly self-conscious in your barely-there shirt.

“We volunteer,” Avery and Wilkes said at the same time.

Evan’s arm tightened around you. “You'll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands,” he replied.

Claustrophobia clawed at your throat, but you couldn't let Regulus know how thoroughly he'd flipped your night upside down.

Wilkes drew their wand, pointing it at Evan’s head. “That can be arranged.”

“A no-name isn't worth it, children,” Regulus sneered. “Save your Azkaban trips for nobler pursuits than cunt.”

That's it. You swung your legs to the ground and rose, stalking towards Regulus. The group whistled and hooted, excited by the oncoming storm of drama.

You climbed into Regulus’ lap, straddling him and stealing the golden snitch from his hands. He was warm and solid beneath you, his expensive, amber cologne swirling with the smoke to create an addicting combination.

His hands immediately fell to your bare thighs, the cold of his rings biting into your heated flesh. His green eyes darkened, lids growing heavy as he looked up at you, his ebony lashes casting delicate shadows over his cheeks.

“Regulus Black,” you murmured in his ear while loosening his tie. His hands tensing on your thighs for a split second before he relaxed them. “You will never find someone that can withstand your thorns the way I do.”

He loosed a breath, chin lifting a little closer to your face like a wilted rose tilting towards the sun.

“You will never scare me off.” You brushed your nose along his temple, feeling his heart rate increase, his breath turn shallow. “I will ruin you, and you will thank me for it.”

Before he could respond, you slipped away, taking his prize snitch with you all the way to Ravenclaw Tower. Unreachable, even for the boy that had everything.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Regulus turned your words over and over in his mind, an endless, torturous loop. The others seemed obvious to his torment, prattling on and on while he burned through cigarette after cigarette, his tongue raw and throat scratchy.

Nothing would numb the ache on his chest, the pulsing strain of his cock beneath his robes. He'd already been painfully hard watching you move, watching you stretch across Evan and Barty like a contented kitten, preening under their devoted attention.

But when you climbed into his lap…fuck.

He was a heartbeat away from coming in his pants. One roll of your hips and he would have been done for, and you had no idea.

Or, maybe you did.

I will ruin you.

It was a miracle that you'd climbed off of him and stormed away, because the only thought he could formulate was please.

Eventually, he couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't even say goodnight to his friends, just disappeared into the dormitory and locked the door behind him.

He shirked his robe and grabbed a spare Slytherin scarf from his drawer. He flopped onto his bed and freed his aching cock, the head and angry red and shiny. He wrapped the scarf around it, squeezing hard for a semblance of relief.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, pumping his cock slowly as your voice filled his mind again, the feeling of your weight on top of him, your sweet breath on his neck, your perfume rewiring the synopsis in his brain.

His hand started to move quicker, breath coming out in desperate pants. He imagined licking across your dewy chest, tasting the salt on your skin, gin on your tongue. Blowing his cigarette smoke over your naked body, into your open mouth. So eager and flayed open for him to ravage—his innocent lamb to ruin.

“Fuck, y/n!” Your name wrenched itself from his throat as he came hard into his scarf, imaging it was deep inside your greedy cunt. His whole body shuddered with the force of it, his jaw hanging open as he pumped himself through the orgasm until he'd milked every drop from himself, wondering if your pussy, your mouth, would do the same.

He slumped back onto the pillows, completely exhausted, and shoved the scarf under his bed.

You were right, you would fucking ruin him, ruin his plans. And he wasn't sure if he hated or loved you for it.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Regulus avoided you for two weeks after that party, going so far as to skip your shared Potions class entirely. It was for the better really, you still felt a little raw after that night, the dull ache of his words combined with the unresolved arousal has left you out of sorts, to put it mildly.

If you ran into him, you weren’t sure if you’d throttle or fuck him to death.

Your friends were beginning to grow suspicious of his absence, and your squirrely behavior, and, unbeknownst to you, they set a trap to bring this stand-off to a finish once and for all.

Pandora chatted animatedly beside you as you walked together down the stairs to the dungeon, ranting about something Aurora did to piss her off. When you arrived to the dungeon, she suddenly paused to tie her shoelace, waving for you to go on ahead of her into the common room.

You did, and the large green door swung shut behind you.

“No! Fuck, Dora!” Regulus was right there, banging his fist on the door.

You looked around, bewildered, only to find the common room completely deserted. Except for Regulus, of course.

“Move,” you hissed, withdrawing your wand.

“I tried everything,” Regulus huffed, a hand raking through his dark hair.

“I said move,” you repeated, pointing your wand at him.

He rolled his eyes and stepped aside, walking back into the common room. He dropped onto the couch by the fireplace, retrieving his book.

You threw every spell you could think of at the door, but it simply wouldn’t budge. “What the fuck!” You shouted, nearly throwing your wand across the room out of frustration.

“They left us a note,” Regulus said, not looking up from his reading.

You stalked over to him, finding an open piece of parchment on the coffee table. Immediately, you recognized Pandora’s loping hand.

“Just bone already.” You read aloud, and scoffed. “What the fuck does that mean?” You glared at Regulus, as if he was somehow responsible, but he still didn’t look up.

“I suspect they’re tired of our bickering,” he replied, turning the page.

“And what does locking us in the dungeon together accomplish?” You couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe they’d lock you in a dungeon with your fucking nemesis. Your school yard bully. The bane of your goddamn existence.

Regulus shrugged. “Maybe they think you’ll kill me.”

You let out an exasperated sound and stormed away from him, trying the door to the girls dormitory.

“Locked,” he called a millisecond after you tried the handle.

“Maybe I am going to fucking kill him,” you muttered to yourself. Resigned, you sat on a chair by the glass wall, as far away from him as you could possibly get, and sulked.

You had no clue how much time passed, the only light filtering in through the murky lake. The cold leeched through the glass, chilling you to the bone, but you refused to move closer to him. You’d freeze to death in here if you had to.

“Y/l/n,” Regulus said after the fifth full body chill wracked through you. “Come sit by the fire.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you bit back, and he snorted.

“Fine, freeze.” He returned to his book, not sparing you another glance.

Your hands started to ache from the cold, your jaw sore from your teeth chattering together. With a sigh, you got up and crossed the room. Regulus still didn’t look up, though you could feel his attention shift to you as you sat directly in front of the fire, holding your hands out to it.

“You really think they’ll leave us in here all night?” You asked, staring at the dancing flames.

“Absolutely,” Regulus answered, lowering his book to his lap.

You sighed, resigned. The only way out is through. “I’ll start.”

He tilted his head, dark brows drawing together in suspicion.

You cursed under your breath, and dove headfirst. “I don’t understand why you’re so shitty to me,” you blurted, refusing to look at him. “I’ve never done anything to you.”

He was quiet for so long, you finally caved and glanced over at him, only to find him staring back at you, expression unreadable.

“Regulus,” you huffed, frustrated.

“Y/n,” he mocked, and your stomach flipped despite his attitude. He’d never used your first name before.

“Just fucking talk to me.” You straightened your spine, folding your legs on the ground underneath you, the fire at your side.

He stared at you for a few more moments, his eyes dancing back and forth, before he leaned back against the couch and picked up his book.

“You’re a lot of things, Black, but I didn’t take you for a coward.”

His eyes flickered with anger, but he didn’t bite.

“Reg,” you murmured, softening your voice, and he rolled his eyes, the most unbelievably bored expression on his face. You shifted your weight, placing your hands on the ground, and lifted to your knees. Slowly, you began to crawl to him, being careful to not sway your hips too much, and he broke after only a few seconds.

“On your knees already, darling?” He teased, but the casual tone didn’t match his eyes. The fire in them, the way his hands tightened around the cover of his book, betrayed his true feelings.

Once you were directly in front on him, you sat back on your heels. “Be honest with me, Reggie, did it turn you on seeing me with Evan and Barty?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your question. In his lap, you saw his cock twitch, a small pulse along his right thigh.

Men are so fucking easy.

“What about when I was dancing with them? Sandwiched between their bodies?” You rolled your head on your shoulders, mimicking the way you danced and revealing the fragile plains of your throat, your hair falling around your face. “When Barty pulled my hair? When Evan blew smoke over my tits?”

Regulus swallowed hard, his eyes like melted jade.

“What about when I crawled into your lap?” You took the book from him and set it onto the table. Then, you placed your hands on his lean, muscular thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, straddling him the same way you did that night. His entire body was rigid beneath you, muscles coiled tight with tension. “Did you like when I whispered in your ear, Regulus? When I told you that I’d ruin you?”

“Y/n,” he rasped, breathing hard.

“Tell me the truth.” You were so close, your lips brushed the shell of his ear as you spoke. You committed to the contact, brushing your lips along his racing pulse, down his jugular vein. You fought to keep your thighs from clenching together, your own body responding to the feeling him slowly unraveling beneath you. “Do you hate me because you want me?”

“I don't,” he hissed through his teeth.

“If you say so,” you hummed, moving to slide off his lap.

He grabbed your waist, his grip bruising. “Don't you fucking dare."

“I thought you didn't want me?” You taunted, sitting back on his lap to look at him, a hand braced on his sternum.

When you shifted your weight, your pussy accidentally pressed against the hard outline of his cock. You had to force your hips to stay still, your pussy practically begging you to move when you felt him throb against your warm heat.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. All the malice had drained from his voice, his eyes locked on yours.

Then what the fuck did he mean?

You rolled your hips, biting back the moan that crept up your throat as pleasure snaked through you. Regulus was less successful, a broken groan falling from his pretty mouth.

“It would be so much easier to just tell me the truth,” you purred, slowly rocking your hips over his twitching length, allowing a hint of breathlessness to bleed into your voice. “It would feel so good, Reg, to let it all go. To lose control.”

“Shit,” he crushed under his breath. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” He grated, sliding his hands down to feel your thighs flex with each movement, his fingertips dimpling your flesh.

“What did you mean by ‘I don’t’?” You asked, tilting his chin up with a finger.

His jaw went a little slack as he stared up at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and shining. “I don’t hate you,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then why do you say such awful things?” You stopped your movements, and he made a small noise in his throat, nearly a whimper, but didn’t answer. “Regulus,” you prodded, lifting yourself from him entirely.

“N-no, please, fuck y/n,” he stammered, lifting his hips to grind against you. Another moan threatened to spill from you, his body felt so fucking good against yours, but you managed to restrain yourself. “I did it to try and push you away, I—”

You lowered back onto him, your hips grinding in tandem, and his head fell back against the couch, releasing a throaty groan. You couldn’t hold back a small squeak of pleasure when the hard head of his cock grazed your clit just right, and a wave of pleasure crashed through you.

“Why did you want to push me away?” You started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, revealing the pale expanse of his chest, lean muscles flexing as he thrusted up against you.

He shook his head, picking it up to look down at where your bodies met, a pool of your slick dampening his trousers. “Getting me all wet, lamb. You like toying with me?” he rasped, moving one of his hands to press a thumb against your clothed clit, his long fingers splayed across your pelvis. “Is that why I couldn’t scare you off?”

You nodded before you could stop yourself, a full moan finally breaking free with the added pressure. You were embarrassingly close to coming, to banter combined with the friction between your bodies was a lethal cocktail, a drug you weren’t sure you’d be able to quit.

You wrapped your hands around his throat, applying enough pressure that he gasped, the sound vibrating your hand. “Why are you trying to push me away?” You leaned closer to his face, his strained pants fanning across your lips. He was so beautiful like this, ravaged by lust and desperate.

“You know why,” he growled, grabbing your wrists. He rolled suddenly, flipping you beneath him and pinning your hands above your head. “What’s my name, y/n?” His free hand slid under your skirt, palming your soaked panties.

“Regulus,” you gasped, arching into his chest.

“Regulus what?” He started rubbing the heel of his palm over your clit, electric pleasure burning through you.

“Regulus Black.” You were on the brink of coming, teetering on that torturous edge.

“Tell me then, my clever little Ravenclaw. What does that say about me and mine?” He leaned down and dragged his teeth along your pulse point, pausing to suck a mark under your ear.

“Fuck, Reg, I’m going to come,” you whined, fighting against his hold as the feeling started to overwhelm you.

His hand stopped suddenly, ruining the orgasm you had just begun to crest. You cried out in frustration, tears springing to your eyes as the pleasure bled out of you, leaving you desperate and humming with tension.

“Answer me,” he demanded, grabbing your jaw with his slick covered hand.

“I’m not an idiot,” you snapped, eyes blazing into his. “I know what the fuck it means. And I don’t care.”

He fell still, eyes searching your face. “Then maybe you are an idiot,” he murmured, eyes softening now that the truth was finally out. “But so am I.”

He closed the final inch between you, connecting your lips in a searing, devastating kiss that you felt all the way to your toes. He released your hands and you tangled your fingers into his curls, finally feeling their softness for yourself as you pulled him closer. Your mouth parted for him, his tongue delving in to taste you.

“Reg, please,” you whined against his mouth, pressing your hips to his again.

“Tell me what you want, lamb.” He kissed down your neck, one of his hands sliding down to grip your thigh and draw it over his hip.

“Fuck me, I need you inside of me.” You clawed at his belt, flipping the clasp and tugging down his zipper.

“Merlin, yes.” He finished undoing his pants and freed his cock, pulling aside your panties to glide the head through your slick folds, lubricating himself. He notched the head at your entrance, hissing at the warmth already kissing him, and eased himself in.

Regulus wasn’t overly large, but the stretch was still divine, filling you until you went cross-eyed, an unholy cry ripping from your chest. He drew his hips back and slammed back into you, over and over again until your were in shambles, a moaning, shaking mess, on the precipice of coming for the second time.

“Come for me, love. I want to feel you break.” He cupped your face, kissing you as he finally pushed you over the edge, an orgasm ripping you apart at the seams. You screamed into his mouth, your cunt clenching around him as your body convulsed. “God, I love this fucking cunt. So perfect for me,” he growled, his hips losing their rhythm as your walls bared down on him, sucking him back in every time he pulled out.

“Reg,” you whimpered, sagging against the couch as the strength bled out of of you.

He pulled out suddenly, pumping his cock in his fist, your honey coating him. “Stay just like that, pretty girl. All fucked out and used. All mine—” a guttural groan broke the final word as he came in his hand, spraying ropes of cum over your rumpled skirt and Ravenclaw sweater, his head thrown back. He looked gorgeous milking himself for you, his muscles flexing with the effort, sweat beading along his skin.

He slowly relaxed, chest heaving, and looked down at you, ruined and covered in his cum. You stared back, completely starstruck by what just happened.

“I’m sorry,” he said, draping himself over you and pressing ksises to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I—”

“Me too,” you interrupted him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I know how hard things are for you, at home, I mean, and I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no. I deserved it. I shouldn’t have brought up your family—”

“But I kept—”

“I never meant too—”

You both exhaled, laughing softly at your rushed confessions, the sudden, giddy nervousness that bloomed between you where there once was glacial wit and razor-sharp banter. He sat you both up, removing your stained sweater and straightening your skirt, then righted himself.

“What now?” You asked when he finished fussing, studying his flushed cheeks, his tousled hair.

He sighed, suddenly looking grim, and your heart gave a nervous thump. “We find a way to keep you safe, lamb,” he said, meeting your eyes. “But until then, we should act like nothing’s changed. Okay?”

Uncertainty coiled in your stomach, but you nodded. “Okay.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thanks for reading!

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi! congratulations on 2k ivy! i've only recently stumbled into your acc but i'm loving all of your works so far!

you write so good i feel like im actually in it, iykwim!

anyways, if it's okay with you, can i get a 🧸 teddy dust for mattheo or theo with the prompt; "look, i know i probably should have backed off and i apologize." "no, honestly it was kind of hot." "what??" (from the 2nd angst prompt list)

i love your works sm you're amazing! cheers to 2k again!

YOUR RESIDENT GUARD DOG.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ㅤㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ M. RIDDLE

SUMMARY ৎ୭ ever since you met mattheo, you knew he had a temper. but when some creep at a party gets too close to you, he completely snaps. now you're in his dorm, everyone yelling, but all you can think about is how pretty he looks when he's angry

WARNINGS ಇ. violence, fighting, blood, suggestive tension, possessive!mattheo, mutual pining A/N ಇ. hi love!! ୨ৎ omg first of all, thank you so much for your sweet words, you have no idea how much that means to me ♡ hope you love it, darling—mwah!! ‹𝟹 nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 705

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The party had been going fine—better than fine, actually. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the Slytherin common room was packed with students laughing, dancing, and generally causing trouble. But then, of course, someone had to ruin it.

You’d been trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of some Ravenclaw’s hand lingering too long on your wrist, his body crowding too close as he slurred something about how you were “too pretty to be this stuck-up.”

You were this close to hexing him when someone else stepped in.

More specifically—Mattheo. And more as in swung in.

The shift in the room was immediate. One second, you were glaring up at the guy, and the next, Mattheo was right there, shoving himself between you and the Ravenclaw.

His voice was low, lethal. "Touch her again, and I’ll break your fucking hand."

The guy scoffed, clearly thinking Mattheo was all talk—right up until Mattheo’s fist connected with his jaw.

The impact was loud. Gasps echoed around the room.

"For fuck’s sake, Riddle!" Draco groaned, already marching over.

Draco and Theodore had immediately shoved themselves between Mattheo and the guy before he could do worse. Lorenzo grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you back as Blaise and Pansy tried to calm the situation down. The guy scrambled away, cursing, but Mattheo still lunged after him, only stopped by Theodore gripping his shirt and yanking him back.

"Fucking hell, Riddle," Blaise hissed. "You wanna get expelled?"

"Expelled?" Pansy cut in, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she grabbed your hand. "More like murdered—if Snape finds out, he’s going to skin him alive."

"I’d like to see him try," Mattheo muttered, wiping his knuckles on his shirt.

"Are you dense?" Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you ever think before you act?"

Mattheo scoffed. "Oh, please. You lot would’ve done the same."

Theodore rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Doesn’t mean we’re not going to call you an idiot for it."

Eventually, after much grumbling, the boys dragged Mattheo upstairs to their dorm, with you and Pansy following close behind.

Once inside, the scolding resumed.

"If you break every guy’s nose who flirts with her, you’re going to run out of people to fight," Lorenzo pointed out.

"And fists," Blaise added.

"And brain cells," Theodore muttered.

"Bold of you to assume he has any left," Draco deadpanned.

Mattheo huffed, plopping onto his bed. "Whatever. Worth it."

Pansy shook her head before turning to you. "You okay, love?"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I would’ve handled it, but..."

"But he had to go full knight-in-bloody-armor," Draco finished, rolling his eyes.

Blaise smirked. "Our resident guard dog."

Mattheo flipped him off. "Shut up."

Eventually, after much scolding (mostly from Pansy and Lorenzo), everyone trickled out, leaving you alone with Mattheo.

You exhaled, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall.

"Look, I know I probably should have backed off, and I apologize."

You let out a breathy laugh. "No, honestly, it was kind of hot."

Mattheo blinked. "What??"

You smirked, watching realization dawn on his face as he tilted his head at you, eyes darkening with mischief. "Ohhh. So you like watching me throw punches, huh? That’s a bit concerning, love."

You shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

"No, no, this is good information. Noted." His grin was all teeth, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you now.

The air between you shifted. You could still see the adrenaline buzzing under his skin, the way his jaw flexed slightly, his lips still slightly parted like he had more he wanted to say.

So you decided to shut him up another way.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. His hands immediately found your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he responded instantly, tilting his head and deepening it like he’d been waiting for this.

When you finally pulled away, Mattheo was grinning like an idiot. "So, just to clarify—if I get into more fights, do I get more kisses?"

You rolled your eyes. "Try it and find out."

"Merlin, I love a challenge."

And just like that, Mattheo Riddle was absolutely, hopelessly gone for you.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[rickmandowneyjr]

So, I noticed this a while ago but I've never seen anyone mention it (or maybe I've just missed it entirely)

We all talk about these moments when we're talking about Snape's hair flips:

However...

(excuse my gif making skills) look at Snape in the background!!

And what's a non-fic post of mine, without a lil bonus:

Alan Rickman, you absolute cutie, I love you. Also, the camera needs to focus on him for these moments. Like, please XD

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Over and Over Again

Remus Lupin x Muggle!Reader

Summary: The legend of soulmates and the myth of endless lives tied to one another permanently was once a myth you don't believe. Until you met Remus Lupin.

WC: 4k

CW: Angst no comfort- The reader and Remus's depiction crosses gender and species lines. Hogwarts Legacy reference. Animal death and blood- so much death-

The pub smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke, the kind of scent that lingered in the wood and clung to the air, no matter how many windows were cracked open. The low hum of music played from an old jukebox in the corner, the neon glow of its lights flickering with age.

It was familiar, comforting in a way that only a Muggle pub on a Friday night could be.

You spun your drink in your hands, watching the ice swirl lazily in your glass as Lily Evans leaned against the table beside you. She looked radiant as always, her fiery red hair gleaming under the dim lights.

“I swear,” She promised for the fifth time. “You're going to love them. Just… be nice to Peter, and for the love of Merlin, don’t ask Sirius about his family.”

You frowned. “For the love of Merlin?”

Lily’s lip twitched.. “Ah- Just… an expression. The boys use it a lot.”

You raised an eyebrow but let it go. Lily had always been a little odd, but she was your odd, your best friend since childhood.

She had been gone for the last few years, tucked away in that mysterious boarding school she never let you visit. Every time she came back to visit, she seemed… different. Like she was carrying secrets she could never fully explain.

Tonight was the first time she was introducing you to her boyfriend- James- and his friends. You had spent years watching her fall out of the abusive cycle of friendship she harbored with Severus Snape- you almost felt bad for him. If only he'd grown up too.

You had, in equal turn, been berated with letters about the slimeball that was James Potter. Just to see her ink blots lighten and her words becoming more fond when it came to his name- you were excited to meet him.

You took another sip of your drink, then looked up as the door to the pub swung open.

A burst of laughter and energy filled the pub as a group of four young men stepped inside, shaking off the damp chill of the London evening.

You saw James first, instantly recognizing him from the photos Lily had shown you. He was all messy hair and glasses, grinning like he owned the world- but the way his gaze immediately sought out Lily made your heart warm.

Then there was Sirius Black, effortlessly handsome, carrying himself with the swagger of someone who knew he could have anyone he wanted, but still acted like he was above it all. His dark leather jacket and roguish smirk screamed trouble.

Beside him was Peter Pettigrew, shorter than the rest, with darting eyes and an almost nervous energy, like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

And then there was the fourth boy- no- man.

The second your eyes landed on him, it was like the entire world narrowed.

Remus Lupin.

He was quieter than the others, his posture a little more reserved. He wasn’t as flashy as James or Sirius but something was still there.

Something in the way he held himself- not quite shying away, but not fully stepping into the spotlight either. His soft sandy blonde hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his hands through it too many times. His face was lean, cheekbones sharp beneath tanned skin, marred by faint scars that ran across his features. But it was his eyes that caught you.

Warm, golden-brown, and filled with something ancient, something tired, something achingly familiar. Your stomach flipped.

Lily’s voice jolted you from whatever spell had momentarily trapped you.

“Come on,” She squeaked, tugging you forward with a grin. “Let me introduce you.”

Your legs felt unsteady as you followed her through the crowded pub, weaving between groups of laughing strangers. The boys turned as you approached, James immediately scooping Lily into a hug and pressing a kiss to her temple. You barely registered it.

Your focus was on Remus, who was watching you with the strangest look you'd ever seen.

Somewhere between horror and intrigue.

Lily cleared her throat, oblivious to the strange, charged silence between you and Remus.

“Alright, boys,” she said, grinning. “This is her.”

James turned away from Lily just long enough to flash you a charming, lopsided smile. “The infamous childhood best friend!” He declared. “Blimey, I was starting to think you were just a legend.”

You let out a short laugh. “Well, I assure you, I’m very real.”

Sirius tilted his head, appraising you. “We’ll see about that,” he mused, then smirked. “The real question is- are you cool enough to be seen with us?”

“Oh, definitely not,” You deadpanned. “I’m a disgrace to all things cool.”

James barked out a laugh. “I like her!”

Lily rolled her eyes but was smiling.

Meanwhile, Remus hadn’t moved.

He was still looking at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes- those deep, golden eyes- seemed locked onto you, as if he was trying to piece something together, trying to solve something that had no answer.

You met his gaze.

“Remus.” He whispered and you muttered your own name back to him without a second thought. And he smiled, lifted his hand-

The moment your fingers brushed as you shook his hand- it happened.

A bolt of pure, electric familiarity shot through your body, rattling every bone in your frame. The pub melted away, the noise, the people, the dim glow of the jukebox- everything faded into a swirl of golden light and rushing wind.

The world around you vanished. The dim pub, the chatter, the clinking of glasses- all of it was swallowed by the sudden rush of something else. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the rustling of leaves, the whisper of wind through tall golden grass. The scent of fresh earth, sun-warmed fields, and damp fur filled your senses.

And then, you were there…

You were small, swift, your body light as you darted between the tall stalks of wheat. A fox, red-furred and wild, your sharp nose twitching as you ran through the fields.

And behind you, paws pounding against the earth, was him.

A hound.

Lanky, golden-furred, and young, still growing into his paws. His ears flopped when he ran, tongue lolling as he chased after you, barking playfully.

He was supposed to hunt you. But instead, he chased you.

Every day, when his master wasn’t looking, he sneaked away from the farmhouse, bounding over the hills to find you. Together, you would race through the fields, rolling in the wildflowers, playing until the sun dipped below the trees.

Free, weightless. Soft fur against rough wheat and playfully snapping jaws. Then- Pain. Sharp, sudden pain.

A snapping sound- cold metal clamping down around your hind leg. A trap.

You yelped, twisting, trying to free yourself, but it was tight, unrelenting. The more you pulled, the more it bit into your flesh, blood staining the grass beneath you.

And he- your hound- panicked.

He barked wildly, circling you, nudging you with his nose. He tried to paw at the trap, but he was just a dog- he couldn’t undo his master’s cruel work.

You whimpered, eyes wide, pleading. He threw his head back and howled, loud and desperate, as if somehow, that would bring help.

And help did come. But not the kind he wanted. The farmer arrived. Gun in hand.

The hound whimpered, barking frantically, placing himself between you and his master. But he was a dog. And a dog’s loyalty belonged to its owner. Even when his heart was breaking.

The farmer raised his rifle.

A deafening bang-

Darkness.

The darkness faded, but you didn’t wake up in the pub.

Instead, you were staring at your own reflection in a gilded mirror.

A face- not quite your own, but one you knew belonged to you.

Your hair was woven into delicate braids, strands of pearls threaded through like drops of moonlight. A soft silk gown pooled around you, its fabric cool against your skin. The weight of a crown sat heavy atop your head, a reminder of your fate- one you had never chosen, one you had never wanted.

And behind you- fingers grazing your bare shoulder as they fastened a necklace-

Was her.

Your Lupin.

But not as you knew him.

A woman, dressed in modest, elegant gowns, a lady-in-waiting, her golden-brown eyes lowered in the practiced deference of a servant.

But she was not just a servant.

She was your dearest friend. She was your first love.

She was the one who walked with you through moonlit gardens, whispering stories of ancient myths. The one who pressed flowers into the pages of your books, so that when you opened them, they smelled like spring.

She was the one you could never have.

Not in the way you wanted. Not in the way that made your chest ache, that made your fingers tremble when they brushed against hers, that made your heart scream for a different fate.

Not in the way that had offended your betrothed.

Not in the way that would get you both killed.

You turned in your chair, reaching for her.

Her fingers lingered at the nape of your neck, hesitant, uncertain, as if she wanted to stay there forever- but knew she could not.

She met your gaze in the mirror when you looked back.

Golden-brown eyes, filled with longing and sorrow.

She knew, too.

She had always known.

You swallowed against the lump rising in your throat. The distant sound of shouting, the clang of metal, the burning of the city below- it was getting louder.

“…Do you ever wish we could leave?” You whispered.

Her breath caught. A hesitation.

“…Every day,” She admitted. And your heart broke for her. For yourself.

For the life that could never be.

The chaos below grew closer- the sound of swords clashing, boots pounding up the castle steps. They were coming.

There was no time. No future. No way out.

Your fingers lifted, brushing against her cheek. Soft. Warm. Alive.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her lips parting slightly, her eyes flickering with fear, with need, with desperation-

And then you kissed her.

Not a soft thing. Not a hesitant thing.

But something urgent, something burning, something filled with the desperation of two lovers who knew they were out of time.

A kiss of fury, of grief, of love too big to be contained in a world too small for it.

She pulled you closer, her fingers digging into the silk of your gown, holding you, clutching you, clinging to you like she could tether herself to this moment, to you-

Then-

The doors burst open.

The room filled with shouting, with the gleam of blades, with the iron grip of soldiers as they stormed forward, tearing you apart.

You screamed, struggling against them, fighting, kicking, clawing, biting-

But your fate had already been sealed.

You saw her, your Lupin, your love, your heart, struggling, screaming your name, reaching for you-

And then- A soldier’s blade pierced your chest.

Cold. Sharp.

The world lurched, twisted- And then-

Darkness.

London was a city of smoke and gold. It was filth and grandeur, a place where the rich dined beneath glittering chandeliers while the poor shivered in the streets below.

And in the middle of it all- between the gas lamps and cobblestone alleys, between the choking smog and the perfume of wealth- you ran.

Your boots hit the pavement with a quiet rhythm, quick and light, barely making a sound as you weaved through the bustling crowds of Westminster Market. Your coat was patched and thin, your gloves fingerless, your stomach empty.

But that didn’t matter.

Because in your pocket, you now held a gold pocket watch.

Your lips curled in triumph. It was a beautiful thing- heavy, shining, the kind that belonged to someone important. Someone who wouldn’t even miss it.

Or so you thought.

Because just as you turned the corner into a shadowed alley, a hand closed around your wrist. Your breath caught.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to fight, to flee-

But then you looked up. And your world shifted.

Him.

A man, tall and fine-boned, wrapped in an elegant dark coat. His hair was soft brown, windswept, his golden-hazel eyes piercing in the dim light. He was young, maybe only a few years older than you, but there was something about him that felt older- as if he had lived a hundred years before this moment.

And despite catching you red-handed, his expression wasn’t one of anger. No.

It was curiosity.

Amusement, even.

His grip loosened, just slightly. “You’re quick,” He panted, voice smooth as silk, his accent refined.

“Not quick enough, but still. Impressive.”

You swallowed, heart pounding against your ribs. “Let go of me.”

“You stole from me,” He pointed out.

You smirked. “You can afford it.”

He actually laughed at that, low and warm, before slowly prying his pocket watch from your fingers. But he didn’t let go of you. Instead, he tilted his head, studying you, like he was trying to place you. Like he had seen you before.

“…What’s your name?” He asked, softer now.

You hesitated. Giving your name was dangerous in your line of work. But something about him- something familiar, something achingly familiar- made you whisper it anyway. His lips parted slightly, his grip on your wrist faltering.

And then- he whispered his own name.

A strange, unspoken recognition passed between you.

Like a secret. Like a memory half-forgotten.

Weeks Passed.

And somehow, against all reason, you kept finding him.

Or perhaps, he kept finding you. He was wealthy, but he was not cruel. A scholar, an artist, a man who saw the world in soft strokes of poetry and charcoal sketches.

And despite your differences- a boy from the slums and a gentleman of high society- you kept returning to him. Perhaps because he never treated you like a criminal.

He treated you like something else entirely. Something important.

Something he was afraid of losing.

One night, beneath the glow of gas lamps, you let him trace the lines of your face with careful fingers.

“You keep looking at me like you know me,” you murmured. His lips parted, breath shallow.

“…Maybe I do.”

And then, before either of you could think- You kissed him. The world tilted, time stretched thin between you, and for a moment, it felt like something had finally fallen into place.

Like this had happened before.

Like it had happened a thousand times before.

But fate, cruel as always, was waiting. Because London was not kind to men like you. It was not kind to pickpockets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was not kind to a street thief who had stolen more than just coins and watches- who had stolen the heart of a man who should never have looked his way.

You never saw it coming.

One moment, you were running through the streets, laughing, alive- and the next, the constables had you by the collar, dragging you through the mud.

You never had the chance to say goodbye.

They didn’t let him see you before the sentencing. But he was there when they dragged you to the gallows.

And as the noose was slipped around your throat, you searched the crowd- desperate, desperate to find him.

And you did.

His face was pale, his hands clenched into fists, his golden-brown eyes filled with helpless horror. You had seen that look before.

The executioner read your crimes. You kept your eyes on Remus.

And in that final moment- As the platform dropped beneath your feet- As the world fell away- As you left him behind.

You thought you heard him scream.

Then, darkness.

Then- you were back home, in Feldcroft. The sun setting outside the small cottage, casting warm, golden light across the wooden floors. The air smelled of burning wood and herbs, a familiar scent- one that had lingered in your childhood.

And you?

You were at the table, a book in hand, curled up in your favorite chair. The world was quiet. Peaceful. But then-

Hands suddenly gripped your shoulders.

You gasped, nearly dropping your book- only to be met with a familiar grin, a familiar laugh, full of mischief and warmth.

“Sebastian!” You scolded, playfully swatting at him. “You scared me half to death!”

He only grinned wider, stepping back before tossing something small into your hands. A shrivelfig.

“For you,” he said with a wink. “It’ll make you stronger, you know.”

Before you could reply, another hand snatched it away.

“Absolutely not,” Solomon Sallow’s stern voice cut through the air. Your uncle gave Sebastian a look of pure warning, his eyes sharp with disapproval. “She doesn’t need you sneaking around with magic. She needs rest. A shrivel Fig cannot reverse a curse.”

Sebastian scoffed, his jaw tightening. “She needs more than just rest, Uncle. If we’d just-”

Your heart clenched. You had heard this argument a hundred times before.

Sebastian’s obsession with finding a cure.

Solomon’s desperate attempts to keep him away from dark magic.

And you- caught in the middle, growing weaker by the day.

A sudden wave of pain shot through you. You winced, gripping the table, your breath hitching. Immediately, Sebastian was at your side, one hand on your shoulder, concern darkening his features.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice urgent. “Are you alright?”

Solomon tensed, his gaze hardening. “Do you see what I mean, boy?”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed with anger. “I wouldn’t-”. But Solomon was already dragging him toward the door.

“Enough,” He snapped. “Outside. Now.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth but followed. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the house in silence.

You exhaled shakily, closing your eyes.

And then- A presence. Someone still here. You opened your eyes-

And met his.

Remus. From Sebastian’s letters.

He was watching you from across the room, hesitation written in every tense line of his body. He hadn’t followed them outside. He had stayed.

Slowly, he stepped forward, then knelt down beside your chair. His golden-brown eyes, warm and steady, studied you, searching for something.

He reached out- then hesitated.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re alright,” He said softly.

The words unraveled you.

No one ever said it. No one ever acknowledged the truth- that you were dying. That it was okay. That you could be seen in the smallest of moments and the shortest of times- without needing to be fixed.

Sebastian fought against it.

Solomon ignored it.

But he saw it.

And somehow, that made it real. You swallowed hard. “I’m not pretending.”

He gave you a look, one that said he didn’t believe you.

Then, without another word- he sat beside you. And that was all.

At first, he was just a friend.

Sebastian had introduced him- a quiet but sharp-witted student, someone with more patience than most.

Someone who- unlike Sebastian- believed that saving you meant more than just breaking every rule. And yet, despite his caution, he couldn’t seem to stay away.

He would sit with you during your worst days, reading aloud from books when you were too weak to lift them yourself.

He would walk with you through Feldcroft, letting you lean against him when the world became too much.

And when Sebastian grew more reckless, diving further into dark magic, forbidden spells, anything that might bring you back from the brink-

Remus fought to hold him back.

But it wasn’t enough. Sebastian went too far. The darkness took root.

And even when he destroyed Solomon, even when he sacrificed everything- It still wasn’t enough.

But for Remus, no. For Remus it was enough. To sit by you, by the fire. To listen to you talk in your final moments. Your uncle gone and your brother lost to his mind.

He reached out and placed a hand over yours. And when your fingers interlocked, he sighed. Staring at the fire, until your fingers loosened around his hand.

Until, darkness.

The Pub, 1978

The world slammed back into place. The scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke filled your lungs, the dim glow of the jukebox flickered in your peripheral vision. Laughter and conversation hummed around you. The wood beneath your fingers was real. Solid. Present.

But your body? Your mind? You had been somewhere else.

Across from you, Remus was shaking.

His breath came quick, his golden-brown eyes blown wide- not with confusion, but recognition. His hand still hovered where it had just brushed against yours, his fingers trembling like they had touched something far more than skin.

Something ancient.

Something inevitable.

You knew him.

Not just from this pub. Not just from this life. You knew him from a hundred lifetimes ago. From the fox and the hound. From the princess and her lady-in-waiting. From the thief and the gentleman. From Feldcroft. From every time you had found him- and every time you had lost him.

And now?

Now you were back.

His lips parted slightly, a breathless sound escaping, like he wanted to say something- like he didn’t know what he could possibly say.

You swallowed, heart pounding, the weight of a thousand lives pressing against your ribs.

“Remus,” You echoed again.

His fingers curled into a fist. His entire body tensed. And then, just as you saw him understand, just as his expression shifted, just as the words I remember nearly fell from his lips-

The door to the pub slammed open.

The moment shattered.

And then?

He did nothing.

Because what could he do?

What could you do?

Say it out loud? Confess to an impossible truth? Tell him that you had died in his arms over and over again?

That this time- this life- he had to stop it?

So you didn’t say anything.

You just sat there. Staring at each other.

Breathing.

And for now, that had to be enough.

Because in every life before, you had never feared the darkness. Just the loss.

~~~

The Great Hall buzzed with conversation. The sorting ceremony had ended, students were chatting excitedly, the feast had just begun. Plates were piled high, goblets filled with pumpkin juice.

Across the room, Teddy Lupin laughed, running a hand through his hair, which shifted colors between turquoise and soft brown as he spoke. His friends chuckled at something he said, shoulders bumping together, the easy comfort of a childhood spent side by side.

Then-

A hand brushed against his.

His laughter stilled.

The world tilted.

It was nothing.

A casual moment, an accidental touch. A transfer student- someone new, someone unfamiliar- reaching across the table to pass a plate of pastries.

But the second their fingers touched-

A jolt.

Something cold and distant- like the echo of a dream he couldn’t quite recall.

Teddy’s fingers twitched. His breath hitched. The transfer student blinked, eyes flickering to his face, lips parting slightly, as if they had felt it too- as if they knew.

Teddy swallowed. His heart pounded.

And then-

He pulled his hand away.

Just a little too fast. Just a little too tense.

His friends didn’t notice. The conversation continued around them. But the transfer student frowned, staring down at their hand for a moment too long, brows furrowing, like they had just remembered something they weren’t supposed to.

Teddy flexed his fingers beneath the table.

His mind whispered something.

Something about foxes and hounds.

Something about princesses and Ladies.

Something about picked pockets.

Something about darkened pubs and stolen moments.

Something about a name.

A name that felt like his and not his, all at once.

The world lurched- but just for a second.

And then?

The moment passed.

Teddy shook his head, forced a smile, and reached for his goblet like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just felt the weight of every life before this one.

Like he hadn’t just remembered exactly what came next.

[zriasstuff]

Love is embarrassing

Mattheo Riddle x reader (fluff imagine, idiot in love)

Warning: mischaracterization ? maybe. but since he is made up anyway i get to write painfully self indulgent stuff :)

Once you caught his eye, there was no way he wasn’t going to make you his. But you were different from all his other crushes. Around you, he somehow felt…nervous? Mattheo Riddle’s vocabulary certainly didn’t entail “nervous” nor “rejection”, yet those two things consumed him like they never did before.

Of course he would eventually face his fears, but before he got there he would simply have to satisfy himself in other ways. If approaching you wasn’t an option, staring at you from afar definitely was.

And before he forgot, he promised himself that he wouldn’t tell his friends. Not yet at least. He really didn’t feel like being ridiculed for being shy.

Staring from afar turned out to be quite the feasible option. Since you sat across the room from him in most classes, he would only have to put his head in his hand and there you were. The most perfect face he’d ever seen, flowing hair and just the right amount of cute and sexy. Everytime you ran your hand through your hair and flipped them in the most elegant way, his pupils grew wider.

Seeing you awakened the inner protector in him. He just had to be by your side. As long as he wasn't, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy a peaceful day.

And just then his day took a pretty embarrassing turn. “Mr.Riddle, if you could stop staring at ms.y/n for just a second, you would’ve maybe heard my question the first time. But I am going to ask again…”

All the students immediately burst out laughing, his friends being the loudest. They couldn’t help but turn their heads towards you too, to see who the Mattheo Riddle was checking out. You could feel your cheeks heating and tried hiding your face a little. Why did Snape have to be such a prick about him not paying attention…

Mattheo grinned awkwardly at his comment, trying to play it off. Unfortunately his friends weren’t going to let this opportunity to embarrass their boy go.

“AWEEE MATTYS’ GOT A LITTLE CRUSH”, Blaise yelled across the room, causing even more outrageous laughs from everyone.

Tom wasn’t helping by loudly announcing “Don’t say that Blaise. It’s not a little crush, if anything it’s a big boy crush.”

More mocking and laughter followed his doom. He looked over at you, to see how you were reacting. He swore if this was what ruined his chances he would strangle everyone, including Snape, one by one…

It was like you could read his thoughts because instead of the reassuring look he’d hoped for, you were giggling with your friends. The chances were beginning to look slimmer and slimmer.

“That’s enough”, Snape finally chimes in, “quiet down now, or you will all have to write a three page essay.” For the rest of the class Mattheo’s mind kept spinning. How could it not.

Although his friends were idiots ninety nine percent of the time, there were rare moments of wisdom. This time was not one of them. Their advice was simply “stop being such a pussy, mate.” Eloquently put as always, but they had a point. He had to remind himself of who he was again. So what if Snape embarrassed him in front of everyone? Wasn’t he handsome and charming enough for it to just make him seem more adorable?

Eventually you two got to separate yourselves from your friend groups, allowing you to enjoy an actual conversation.

…

“So am I getting my hopes up for nothing, or were you genuinely staring at me?”, you bluntly ask him. You had to know whether Snape only said that to punish him for no reason, or if he actually had a point.

“What do you think, gorgeous?”, he cheekily replies. “I wonder how anyone could not stare at someone as pretty as you”

“You’re so stupid”, you chuckle at his attempt to charm you.

“Stupid is not something you should be calling your future boyfriend you know”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

It is 4:30 am

I am oh so tempted to write a smut fic with Severus x reader

(Snippet below if you want me to write i)

(Drunk Temptation & A Very Weak Severus Snape)

You smiled into the kiss, fingers lazily playing with Severus’ hair, your warm breath tickling his neck as you nuzzled into him.

Severus, already suffering, let out a slow exhale, his grip on you tightening slightly.

You were dangerous like this—soft, affectionate, utterly shameless.

And Merlin help him, but he was so weak for you.

You tilted your head, pressing a slow, teasing kiss against his throat.

“Sev…” you murmured against his skin, grinning wickedly when you felt him stiffen slightly.

“…What?” he asked, voice already strained.

You trailed your fingers down his chest, your lips brushing against his jaw as you whispered—

“We could always… recreate some of those moments.”

Severus exhaled sharply.

His grip on you tightened.

“…Y/N.”

You hummed innocently. “I mean, we do have options,” you mused, your smirk evident in your voice.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Y/N—”

You grinned against his skin. “We could go back to your office… or maybe the library again—”

Severus groaned. “Absolutely not.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or…” you drawled, tilting your head, “we could go somewhere else.”

Severus arched an eyebrow, already knowing he was about to regret this. “…Where?”

You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear, and whispered—

“My favorite place.”

Severus paused.

And then froze entirely.

Because he knew exactly what you meant.

His breath hitched.

“…Y/N.”

You smirked against his neck. “Oh, love, don’t act like you don’t remember,” you teased, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles over his chest.

Severus swallowed thickly. Oh, he remembered.

That place.

The exact spot where you had ended up pregnant with Elias.

The one moment of pure recklessness that had changed everything.

Severus, to his absolute horror, felt warmth creeping up his neck.

You giggled, clearly noticing.

“Oh, I see you’re thinking about it now,” you teased.

Severus glared. “You are drunk.”

You sighed dramatically, feigning innocence. “Just a little.”

“You are completely incapable of decision-making right now.”

You smirked. “Hmm… doesn’t seem to stop you from holding me closer, though.”

Severus immediately loosened his grip. “I despise you.”

You beamed. “No, you don’t.”

Severus let out a long, suffering sigh.

He should have been furious.

He should have been mortified.

But instead—he just pulled you closer, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your lips.

“…Unfortunately,” he murmured against your mouth, “I do.”

You smiled against his lips, fingers threading through his hair, lips trailing lower as you whispered—

“Then do something about it.”

Severus froze.

And for a long moment, the room was completely silent.

Then—with a slow, deliberate movement—Severus slid his hands to your waist, gripping firmly.

You squeaked, eyes widening slightly.

Severus leaned in, his voice a low, deep murmur against your lips.

“…You should be careful what you wish for, Y/N.”

You shivered.

And just like that—you were no longer in control.

Severus flipped you effortlessly, pinning you beneath him, his eyes dark, filled with intent.

Your breath hitched. “Sev—”

His lips captured yours, stealing the rest of your sentence.

And just before you completely lost yourself, you had exactly one last thought.

Perhaps you'd be getting another baby sooner than planned.

[6mommymilkers9]

Greedy Little Thief

Severus Snape x Student Reader

Summary : In seventh year, an infatuation with your Head of House has been brewing for too long.

Tw : None

Grasping the vial, Severus flipped open the spout, giving a quick sniff. "Love potion." Turning his head to Dumbledore, who stared with a knowing glance. "Now we know who's been stealing for your stores, Severus."

The last few weeks had been aggravating. Thankfully, the Tri-wizard Tournament, distracting students and professors alike, especially Snape. Getting into his storage room was no easy task, narrowly, especially the greasy haired madman a time or two.

Today was no different; maybe, just maybe, you could take one more vial. That's all you needed. Strolling the dungeons with a certain stride, making way to potions class, Severus surely was watching the games, hell everyone was.

You, on the other hand, couldn't be bothered, opting to take advantage. Taking ahold on the door handle, quietly opening the door, slithering into the classroom. Shutting the door behind, you turned, eyes meeting your target. Your feet moved, light as a feather, a creeked of the floor, neither here nor there.

Another twist of your wrist, you were greeted to his office, and alike, his storage room to the left, making way. The room, only light with a small candle on the professors desk, was dim, making you squint a bit, trying not to bump into anything. As many times as you've been in here, you haven't quite mapped out his room yet.

A small breath, the scent of lavender filled your nostrils, greeting your glands with a faint smile. If there was one thing you couldn't get enough of, it was his scent.

Every time the professor walked by, handing out homework or grades, the hint of lavender had you wanting chasing for more, nearly making you drool at times.

The scent nearly driving you mad for years, yearning for slip of the fingers, getting a light touch of his quill, whenever you had to bother the poor man with mindless questions, hoping for the scent to stick.

Another breath, you blinked, adjusting to the darkness, twisting the knob. Before you could fully open the door, someone had grabbed your sweater, pushing you against the nearest stone wall, making you cry out.

"You think you could get away with it Miss L/N? You greedy little thief." Severus rushed, his eyes dark, yet not holding much distain as usual.

"P-Professor please! I can explain." Barely getting the words out, grasping the professors wrist, taking note how warm they were compared to how cold he presented.

Severus knew, he had a feeling for days now. Only thing that caught him off guard was you. The top student in his Advanced Potions class was a thief. But why? That is what bugged the tall, tasteless man.

He wasn't a daft man, watching your glances, the feeling of you two brushing against each other in the hallways, dismissing it as a mistake on your end. It was the most contact he had with anyone in a long time.

Though, he couldn't deny, the feeling was exasperating, craving more from your liking. While his mind might deny, his conscience couldn't, he had grown feelings for the Slytherin girl in his clutches.

Dumbledore noticed, from the head table to the students, eyes glancing between his Potions master and the Slytherin girl. The conniving Headmaster, making due to have the lot paired during demonstrations and tasks he brought onto them both, not necessarily needing either or to do them.

When the headmaster and professor found the storage room to be missing some bottles, the older man knew just who was the culprit, leading the Severus to figure out for himself; Dumbledore being a romantic himself. Strings are attached to people for a reason, after all.

"Give me a reason to not give you detention, Miss L/N. Stealing from my personal belongings will surely lead to punishment from myself."

The seventh year couldn't help but feel the blood rush to her cheeks, tightening her grip onto the man, glancing between his eyes and the crook of his neck, embarrassed. "I dunno, sir. I thought.." You paused, barely meeting his guaze, thinking of how to confess your endeavors. "Well..I thought it would work. You smelled the amortentia, didn't you? What else was I supposed to do?" You question, searching for an answer from the Potions master.

It was true, nearly a month ago, students were assigned to make 'Amortentia', a love potion transfixed to cast itself as the smell of your lover, yours smelling for lavender, and dust. Severus, nearly casting it as a coincidence, yet in the evening, making his own, smelling your perfume.

His grip lightened just a tad, lips narrow, screaming to move, to speak. His chest, wanting to burst, yet, steady within it's confinement. "You stupid girl." He muttered, stepping into his nose was grazing yours. "A love potion cannot enhance what Amortentia presents. All you had to do was ask."

Before your lips could part, questioning his words, you felt his own brushing yours, before melting into place, his stance softening, feeling your own relax. Your knees felt like buckling under their own weight, processing what was happening.

Many nights you craved this exact moment, and it was better than your subconscience could depict. Nails digging into pale, ghostly skin, you pushed your head forward, deepening the kiss, exasperated.

Pulling away, Severus met your eyes, a force needly pushing him back into you. "Does this mean I can skip the upcoming exam sir?" The slytherin girl asked, chest puffing up in down, catching up with itself; a smile appearing on the inner corners of your lips.

"Hardly." The professor grunted, his hands finding their way onto the stone wall, either or blocking your shoulders. "Detention. Tonight, Miss L/N." How could you say no to the man?

[iamthesilentwriter]

The Stars

Harry Potter x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

Summary: With a little help from the mistletoe, you and Harry share your first kiss under the stary night sky.

Warnings: first kiss, light teasing

Authors Note: I'm currently in the process of planning out a couple of oneshot ideas I've had in my head - so, as to prepare for the no time I will have over the next couple of weeks. These fics should be posted about a week or so apart, then I should be done with my final exams, and well... I'll be back. I hope you can understand, enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 2250

Navigation | Masterlist

You stand in the doorway to the boy’s dormitory, leaning against the frame as you watch Harry rummage through his trunk. The room is mostly empty, with only a few belongings left scattered about from students still ready to pack.

“Are you all set to go?” you ask, crossing your arms with a playful smirk, catching his attention.

Harry straightens up, turning to face you with that familiar messy hair of his falling over his glasses. “Almost,” he replies, his voice warm but a bit distracted as he shoves a book into his trunk. “Just making sure I didn’t forget anything.”

You raise an eyebrow, stepping into the room a bit more. “You’re not leaving behind any homework, are you? You did hand in that Potions assignment, right?” Your tone is teasing, but there’s a genuine question behind it. You’ve known Harry long enough to recognise that sometimes he forgets things when he’s too busy thinking about other stuff.

He grins, leaning casually against the trunk now. “Yes, Mum,” he teases back, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he crosses his arms in response. “Everything’s done. Handed in my Potions essay two days ago. Thought you’d be proud of me.”

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes but feeling a warmth in your chest as he steps closer. “I am proud. I’d hate for Snape to ruin your holiday with some snarky comment about missing work.”

Harry’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling as he takes another step toward you. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let anything ruin our holiday. Especially not Snape.”

You tilt your head at him, smiling, and there’s a moment of quiet tension between you. It’s the kind that has become increasingly familiar lately, and you can feel your heart speeding up just a little. His eyes linger on yours for a second longer than usual, before he shakes his head with a laugh.

“Anyway,” he says, breaking the moment, “we should head down for dinner before Ron eats everything.” He gives you a playful nudge as he moves past you toward the door.

You chuckle, following him out of the room. “Knowing Ron, we’re probably already too late.”

You and Harry step into the Great Hall, the warm glow of the candles overhead flickering against the enchanted ceiling. You spot Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, sitting close together with a half-empty platter of food in front of them.

As you approach, Ron looks up, his cheeks bulging with a mouthful of what appears to be roast chicken. He says something muffled, completely incomprehensible as bits of food fly onto his plate.

Hermione rolls her eyes, giving him a pointed look before turning to you at Harry. “He said, ‘It took you both long enough.’” She offers a small, knowing smile that makes your stomach flip. There’s a teasing glint in her eyes, as if she’s noticed how close you and Harry are walking together.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly sit down next to Harry, trying to act normal. “We didn’t take that long,” you reply, though your voice sounds more defensive than you intended.

Ron, now finally managing to swallow his food, grins. “Yeah, sure. You’re only the last ones here. Hermione thought you two got lost or something.” 

You scoff lightly, shooting him a playful glare. “We were just making sure Harry packed everything, unlike someone who nearly forgot their Charms homework last week.”

Ron shrugs, completely unbothered. “That was one time.”

Hermione looks exasperated but doesn’t press the point, instead glancing between you and Harry. “You two seem… close tonight,” she says, her voice casual but with a hint of teasing. “Sitting awfully close, aren’t you?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you realise that, yes, you and Harry are sitting closer than usual – your knees brushing under the table, shoulders almost touching. Harry shifts beside you, and when you glance at him, you notice the light pink tint spreading across his cheeks.

“Oh, uh-” Harry stammers, trying to play it off, “there’s just, you know, less space at the table tonight.” He sounds unconvincing, and you can feel your own face growing warmer.

Ron snickers, biting into a piece of bread. “Right. ‘Less space.’”

You kick Ron lightly under the table, earning a chuckle from him, while Hermione hides her grin behind her glass of pumpkin juice. Harry, still a bit flustered, reaches for a roll, but his hand brushes yours as you both go for it at the same time.

“Sorry,” he mutters, looking down at his plate quickly. You pull your hand back, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter more intensely.

Dinner goes on with light conversation, mostly centred around Ron’s enthusiastic retelling of his plans for Christmas and Hermione’s exasperation over his lack of preparation for the upcoming exams. All the while, you’re hyper-aware of how close Harry is, and how his arm occasionally grazes yours.

Once you’ve finished eating, the plates magically clear themselves, and Harry glances at you, an almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “We’ve got some time before bed… do you want to do something?” His voice is soft, hopeful.

You bite your lip, thinking for a moment, before the answer comes to you. “I’d like to go to the Astronomy Tower,” you say, your voice quiet but certain. “To look at the stars.”

His eyes light up, and he nods. “That sounds perfect.”

Ron lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Of course, the Astronomy Tower…”

Hermione gives him a look. “Oh, hush, Ron. Let them go look at the stars.” There’s a sly smile on her lips, and you have a feeling she knows exactly what’s going on between you and Harry, even if neither of you has fully admitted it yet.

Blushing, you get up from the table, feeling Harry’s eyes on you as he stands as well. You glance over at Hermione and Ron, who are both trying their hardest not to look too amused.

“Well, we’ll see you later,” Harry says awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he waits for you to join him.

You give Hermione a quick wave, and she winks back, as you and Harry head out of the Great Hall together, making your way toward the Astronomy Tower.

The cold night air bites at your cheeks as you stand atop the Astronomy Tower with Harry, the sky above a sea of stars. They glitter against the black canvas, so clear and sharp that it feels like you could reach out and grab them. You pull your cloak tighter around you, sneaking a glance at Harry beside you. His breath forms soft clouds in the crisp winter air, his eyes trained on the sky, but you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are.

For a while, it’s quiet – almost awkward – as you both gaze up at the stars, your fingers brushing his for a split second before you quickly pull your hand away. The cold is a convenient excuse for the shiver that runs down your spine, but deep down, you know it’s not just the temperature making you feel this way.

Harry clears his throat, breaking the silence. “The stars are… really bright tonight.”

You nod, unsure what to say, your heart racing just being next to him. The space between you feels charged with something unsaid. “Yeah, they’re beautiful.”

Another stretch of silence follows, and you sense Harry shifting on his feet beside you, as though he’s gathering the courage to say something more. You’re at a loss for words, the nervous flutter in your chest making it hard to think straight.

Then, after a moment, Harry speaks again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “You know… the stars, they kind of remind me of you.”

Your breath catches at his words, and you turn to look at him, your heart pounding in your ears. “Remind you of me?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.

He glances down, shuffling his feet before meeting your gaze again. His green eyes are bright, reflecting the light of the stars above, and there’s something vulnerable in his expression, like he’s afraid of saying too much but wants too anyway.

“Yeah,” he continues, his cheeks flushing pink from more than just the cold. “They’re beautiful, obviously, but it’s more than that. They’re always there, constant, even when everything else feels uncertain. Like no matter what’s going on, you can always look up and find them.” His voice drops, a little shy as he adds, “You’re like that for me.”

His confession is so simple, but it makes your heart feel too big for your chest. You can’t tear your eyes away from him, and suddenly, the awkwardness disappears, replaced by a quiet tension that hums between you. There’s something in his gaze, something tender and full of hope, and you realize you’ve been waiting for this moment just as much as he has.

As you stand there, words hovering on the tip of your tongue, your eyes are drawn upward – and that’s when you see it. A sprig of mistletoe, its little white berries gleaming in the dim light, hanging just above your heads. It’s almost laughably convenient, but it’s there, and you know Harry’s seen it too.

Your eyes meet, and for a moment, you both just stand there, the realization hanging in the air. He glances at the mistletoe, then back at you, his breath coming out shaky, lips slightly parted as if he’s waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

Instead, slowly, carefully, Harry leans in, his movements tentative, giving you time to pull away if you want. But you find yourself drawn to him, your heart racing as you close the distance between you. Your eyes flutter shut, and then, finally, his lips meet yours.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like you’re both testing the waters, but it sends warmth flooding through you, chasing away the cold of the night. His lips are gentle, and the hand that’s been brushing against yours squeezes lightly, grounding you in the moment.

When you finally pull back, the world feels different, like everything has shifted into place. You open your eyes to find Harry staring at you with a soft, almost awestruck expression, his cheeks flushed and his breath shaky. You know you must look the same, a blush creeping across your skin despite the cold.

The silence between you is thick with emotions that have been building for longer than either of you realized. You’re both standing there, frozen in place, still processing what just happened.

Without thinking, your hand moves up, trembling slightly as you cup the back of his neck. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel him shiver – not from the cold this time, but from the same nervous anticipation that’s thrumming through you.

You pull him down toward you, closing the space between you once more, and kiss him again. This time, the kiss is more certain, a little bolder, your lips pressing against his with quiet intensity. Harry responds instantly, kissing you back with the same urgency.

But just as you’re getting lost in the moment, Harry pulls back, his breath shaky as he rests his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing lightly over your hand. For a second, neither of you moves, standing there with your foreheads pressed together, the stars twinkling above, the cold night air forgotten.

You let out a breathy laugh, something soft and uncontrollable that bubbles up before you can stop it. Harry pulls back slightly, his lips quirking into a curious smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, his voice quiet but warm.

You bite your lip, still smiling. “I don’t know… I guess it’s just – this. Us.” You pause, your heart racing as you search for the right words. “I’ve wanted this for so long... I didn’t think it would actually happen.”

Harry’s expression softens, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek now. “Me too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it... but I’ve liked you for ages. I just... I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Your heart swells at his confession, and you realize just how long you’ve both been waiting, dancing around this moment. You take a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you speak. “I like you too, Harry. A lot. I’ve been so nervous around you lately, and I-”

Harry smiles softly, his forehead still resting against yours. “You don’t have to be nervous anymore. We’re okay. Better than okay.”

You smile back, the relief washing over you, a weight lifting off your shoulders. There’s nothing left to say; you both know now.

Without second-guessing yourself, you lean in again, capturing his lips in another kiss – this one slow and sweet, like a promise. His hands settle gently on your waist as he pulls you closer. The world fades away, and all you can feel is him – his warmth, his steady presence, the way everything just feels right in this moment.

When you finally break apart, the stars are still shining above you, but all you can think about is how bright everything feels now that the truth is out in the open. Harry looks at you with a soft smile, his hand lingering on your cheek as he whispers, “I think the stars were always meant to lead me to you.”

[cherrycolacigs]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕟𝕒𝕜𝕖

This was requested by @cosmicswan!

Ty Lovey for requesting I had fun writing this for you! I hope you like it and get better soon!

No warnings just fluff!

You were a mess; sitting at your desk with hundreds of papers and snot covered tissues littering the surface. It was the end of the year and the only thing on your mind for the past two weeks was to ace your O.W.LS., no matter how sick you were. You were wearing Cedric’s yellow jumper that you borrowed, stole, as the quill in your hand moved quickly, writing down answers as your eyes darted back and forth between textbooks and your notes. Occasionally your work would cease to wipe your nose or hack out a cough. 

Then there was a polite knock on your dorm’s door.

You jumped, your brain snapping out of your extremely focused world. You huffed and rubbed your temple.

“What?” you groaned, a not so friendly tone in your voice as you were irritated that someone would interrupt you. 

Then your boyfriends head poked through the door.

“Hey darling, what are you doing?” Cedric queried, slipping into your dorm and walking over to you perched at your desk.

“O.W.L.S.” was all that you grumbled, sticking your face back into your book.

“Ah,” Cedric replied, placing a hand on your head and bending down to face you. “And why would you be doing that instead of being in bed? You’re obviously sick.”

You swatted his hand away and shook your head.

“Nuh uh,” you muttered, dipping your quill in your ink. “I’m not sick.”

Cedric sighed and sat on your bed. He knew you were most likely the most ambitious Slytherin to had ever graced the halls of Hogwarts. But he knew he was just as patient and persausive as you were stubborn.

“I know for a fact that you are sick,” Cedric said in a calm and assertive voice.

“Yeah hmm and why’s that?” You said airily, not looking up from your work.

“Remember yesterday you tried to stifle those little coughs for the entirety of Snape’s class yesterday?”

You stopped writing for a moment, sideyeing him for a split second as you remembered.

It was in the middle of one of Snape’s lectures and had you coughed. Cedric had slowly turned his head to meet your gaze, a knowing look plastered on his face. In response you scowled and looked down, continuing to hastily scribble down the rest of your notes.

“No,” you answered flatly.

Cedric scoffed and shook his head with a dry smile. 

“You don’t remember?” he said with an amused tone.

“I’m not sick!” you insisted, running your hands through your hair in frustration before flipping another page of your textbook. He grabbed your wrist to stop you from taking your quill again.

“You need rest,” he said firmly, spinning your chair around and placing both hands on the arm rests, sticking his face infront of yours. “And I made sure of it.”

“Yuh huh, and how exactly?” you challenged, crossing your arms and looking up at him defiantly. 

“I told Madam Pomfrey,”

Your mouth dropped and you tried to find the words. This was unfathomable. 

“No. No!,” you wheedled, a look of surprise and anger on your face.

“Yes,” Cedric said sternly. 

“You can’t just do that! Your not in charge of me!” you exclaimed, trying to stand up from your chair but he grabbed you by your waist kept you sat.

“Oh darling but that’s where your wrong. I am.” he said sternly, running his thumb over your lower lip. 

You went speechless for a second. You were not expecting this. 

“I am prefect after all,” he said smugly, smirking at you while you sat open mouthed and visibly taken aback. 

“You dick!” you retorted, running your hands down your face. “I need to be in classes tomorrow!” 

“What you need to be, is in bed!” Cedric pressed, his eyes piercing into yours as he became more authoritative. 

“I… you!” you fumbled, grasping for the words but he had you.

You sunk into your chair anc crossed you arms, feeling completely dominated. Though you were irritated he knew you loved it when he took charge.

“Can’t I study in my bed at least?” you prompted, grabbing for your papers.

“No,” he said simply, his large hand snatching them from your grasp.

“But! Hey-” 

You were cut off, Cedric kissing you firmly. You instantly stopped and let him, not knowing what else to do.

“What was that for?” you asked in bewilderment.

“To shut you up,” he stated.

“I’m gonna get you sick!” 

“Hah! So you admit! You are sick!” he said triumphantly. 

You tried to defend yourself but you started coughing, not being able to say anything else and suddenly he scooped you up and plopped you into your bed, but you couldn’t even protest so you accepted your fate.

He tucked you into your bed and felt your forehead.

“God, darling your burning up,” he said quietly, sitting down on your bed next to you and kissing the top of your head.

“I’m cold though,” you mumbled.

“Here,” he replied, pulling out his wand and pointing it to the other side of your dorm where your fireplace was. "Incendio.”

A fire shot up instantly and the heat started flowing in your direction.

“Better angel?” Cedric caressed your cheek and kissed your forehead.

You nodded and reluctantly leaned into his touch. You didn’t want to admit it but you indeed did feel better, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“You need to drink alot of water. Stay hydrated,” He informed, grabbing a water bottle from your schoolbag and putting it in your hand.

“But-”

“Drink,” he demanded. 

You sighed, knowing you had no choice. You drank as much as you could and handed it back to him.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered, rubbing you arm and kissing your lips. “Now you’re going to sleep you hear?”

“Only if you stay,” you said in a quiet voice.

“Of course I will sweetheart,” He chuckled and kissed you again. “And is that my jumper?”

You looked down at the soft yellow sweater that was so big on you, you were pretty much swimming in it. 

“No.”

Cedric smiled and stroked your hair.

“Last time I checked, Slytherins wore green.”

You rolled your eyes and laid back a bit more, looking down at the carpet.

“I’m not tired,” you complained.

“Don’t you worry, you will be soon.”

You huffed but stayed quiet for a few seconds. 

“I feel guilty for not studying. I should be studying!” you moaned, hiding your face in your pillow.

“Oh hush, darling your work isn’t going anywhere! I’ll get you some hot tea and that will put you to sleep yeah?” He whispered, running his hands through your hair.

You nodded and he pulled the blankets over you carefully. 

“Now, I’ll be quick as possible. I won’t leave you again until your better.”

Cedric kissed your head and strolled out your door to the kitchens.

He came back in a matter of minutes, true to his word, holding a jug of hot water and some packets of chamomile tea, along with an armfull of other things he thought you needed. Tucked in his arm was all of your favorite candies, cans of soup, and other (probably useless but he thought you’d like it) items. 

“Darling I’m back,” He announced softly, looking over at you.

But to his surprise, you were already dead asleep.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Between the Stacks

Characters: George Weasley x reader

Summary: Snow falls softly at Hogwarts, but George Weasley’s mischief sparks warmth in the library—and maybe, something more.

Word Count: 1247 words

Prompts: Library. Mutual pining. A hug that lingers.

A/N: A lovely sweet anon requested this one, so I hope you see it. I have missed writing my favourite Weasley.

The library was quiet, the soft rustle of pages and the occasional scratch of a quill the only sounds breaking the stillness. Snow fell softly against the windows, casting shifting patterns of light on the stone walls. Christmas was just a week away, and most of the students had already left for the holidays, leaving the Hogwarts library eerily empty. You had told yourself you stayed back for the quiet. The peace. But the truth was, the silence felt heavier than you’d expected, wrapping around you like a too-tight scarf.

“You’re staring at that book like it insulted your gran,” a familiar voice broke your concentration, and your heart did a little flip. George Weasley slid into the chair across from you, his signature mischievous grin firmly in place.

“Maybe it did,” you quipped, snapping the book shut. “I’m not entirely convinced Potions theory isn’t some form of cruel punishment.”

George chuckled, leaning back in his chair, and you couldn’t help but admire the way the firelight turned his hair into copper and gold. He was always so at ease, like the world bent just slightly to accommodate him.

“What are you still doing here, anyway? I thought you’d have escaped this place by now.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, an easy motion that somehow felt practiced. “Fred and I thought we’d stick around. Fewer teachers means more room for…creative experimentation.”

“Ah, I see. And by ‘creative experimentation,’ you mean causing as much chaos as possible?”

“Precisely.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and for a moment, his grin softened into something thoughtful. “But what about you? Why spend your holidays buried in books when you could be…I don’t know, having fun?”

You hesitated, twirling your quill between your fingers. The truth was, you’d stayed back partly because you enjoyed the quiet, but mostly because of him. George. His laugh, his jokes, the way he made everything seem brighter. Not that you’d ever admit it.

“Maybe I like the quiet,” you said finally, glancing away to hide the heat rising to your cheeks. “It’s…peaceful.”

“Fair enough,” he said, though there was a glint of something knowing in his eyes. “But don’t you ever get lonely?”

“Not when I have people like you interrupting me,” you teased, grateful for the shift in tone.

He laughed, the sound warm and rich, shattering the stillness of the library. For a moment, the cold stone walls seemed to fall away, and all that was left was him.

Over the next few days, George seemed to pop up wherever you went. In the Great Hall during meals, he’d slide into the seat beside you with a cheeky comment about your “intense focus” on your soup. In the common room, he’d swipe your parchment to doodle absurd caricatures of Snape, complete with a crooked nose and bat wings. And in the library, he’d appear from behind the stacks, always with a joke or a story that left you laughing despite yourself.

“You know,” he said one evening, as you both sat in the library again, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you?” you repeated, feigning innocence as you turned a page in your book. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping a finger to his chin, the picture of mock seriousness. “Maybe because you’re worried you’ll fall madly in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart raced. “Please. I think I’ll manage.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a wink. But his grin faltered—just for a second, the smallest crack in his usual bravado. His eyes lingered on you, softening in a way that made your stomach twist, before he quickly glanced away.

It wasn’t until the evening before Christmas Eve that things came to a head. You were alone in the library, the faint strains of carols drifting from the enchanted suits of armor in the corridors. The fireplace crackled softly, casting long shadows across the rows of books, and snow tapped gently against the frosted windows. The quiet was almost soothing, and you’d been lost in thought when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually studying so close to Christmas,” George’s voice rang out, tinged with mock horror.

You turned, startled, to find him standing there, a box wrapped in red and gold paper in his hands. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and there was a certain nervousness in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“What’s that?” you asked, eyeing the package.

“A present,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For you.”

“For me?” You blinked, surprised. “Why?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug, though his grin was unusually subdued. He stepped closer and set the box carefully on the table. “Go on, open it.”

Your fingers brushed the crisp paper as you peeled it back, the firelight reflecting off the gold paper. Inside was a small, intricately carved wooden box. You lifted the lid to reveal a quill, its handle engraved with your initials and the crest of your house. The silver feathers shimmered faintly, catching the glow of the fire.

“George…” you began, your voice catching. You ran your fingers over the smooth handle, marveling at the detail. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

“I thought you could use something special for all those notes you’re always scribbling,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze. “Figured it might make studying a bit less miserable.”

“It’s perfect,” you said, looking up at him, your chest tightening. “Really. Thank you.”

He grinned, but this time there was a softness to it, a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his tone quieter, “I wasn’t entirely honest earlier.”

“About what?” you asked, though your pulse quickened.

“Why I stayed for the holidays,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. His hand drifted to the edge of the table, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the wood.

Your breath caught. “Why did you?”

He looked up then, his brown eyes meeting yours with an openness that made your stomach flip. “Because I… I didn’t want to spend so much time away from you.”

The words hung in the air between you, soft and tentative, like snowflakes that might melt if you moved too suddenly. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, before you could think twice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He froze for a heartbeat, then pulled you close, his hold firm and warm and lingering just a little too long to be purely friendly.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured against his shoulder, though your tone was affectionate. “But thank you.”

His breath was warm against your hair. “For what?”

“For staying,” you said softly, tightening your hold for just a moment longer.

When you finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your arms, his touch warm despite the chill in the air.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, his gaze locked on yours.

“Merry Christmas, George,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips.

And as the snow continued to fall outside, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something wonderful.

[fruitywritter]

Feelings

Summary: You hang out with Hermione, Harry and Ron by the lake

Pairing: Hermione Granger x gn!reader

Warnings: None just fluff :)

Words: 2.6k

A/n: Haven’t updated in months, finally got some motivation :)) If you read this I hope you like it!

It has been a tough week for all the students at Hogwarts, almost all of the teachers had them write multiple tests so they would be prepared for the exams which would take place in around two weeks. After finishing the last class of the week, the plan was to go hang out on your favorite spot beside the lake with your friends. Things didn’t exactly go that way as Snape made you stay after class to clean up after some Slytherin student’s mess.You didn’t want to argue with him so you told Harry, Ron and Hermione to go and that you would join them later.

So fifteen minutes later you found yourself walking over the field and towards the lake as your friend came into your vision. Students sitting here and there, conversing with their friends or doing homework. It was a sunny evening, the sun having a few hours before setting since summer came closer so days were longer. You didn’t mind it, you liked a few more hours of light.

You walked over as you saw Harry and Ron trying random spells on each other making you chuckle. You sat beside Hermione who had her face buried into a book.

“Hey.” You spoke as she turned her head and looked at you with a soft smile, the book quickly forgotten in her hands.

“Are you alright?” Hermione looked at you in question as you nodded.

“Yeah. Snape kept throwing his ugly remarks at me while I was thinking of any good spell to make him shut up.” You said with a grin on your face as the brown haired girl rolled her eyes and playfully slapped you on the shoulder. “I’m kidding Hermione! I would never attack a teacher..” You shook your head as you pulled slightly away.

Hermione hummed, “You better not get in trouble.”

“I won’t! I cleaned up and left quickly.” You laughed at the look she was giving you, clearly not trusting you. You turned your attention to your friends before asking, “What are they doing?”

“Looking for a good spell to use on Snape.” Hermione said with an unamused voice before looking down at her book. A chuckle left your mouth as you watched Harry cast a spell and lift Ron in the air before letting him fall back down on his ass. You heard Ron groan as Harry laughed, Hermione took a quick glance at them before muttering under her breath, “Idiots.”

You turned towards her as you heard her voice, she wasn’t looking at you as her attention was back on her book. Glad that she couldn’t see you staring at her, you continued looking over her features. You simply sat there and admired her beauty, how her eyes moved when she read over the pages, how her fingers gently touched and flipped the paper. Her lips were slightly open as she concentrated. Hair was up in a messy bun as a few strands fell over her face. Her legs were crossed and the book was sitting on her lap.

You cursed yourself into your head. You shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend like that, you thought that this attraction towards her had disappeared but no. At this moment you knew you couldn’t stop feeling like that. Only Harry knew about this.. crush. Since he was your brother and knew you for so long, he had noticed and talked to you. You felt relieved when you talked to him, he seemed to understand and be happy for you. Harry had told you to tell Hermione but you were scared. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship if the girl didn’t feel the same.

It felt good having to talk to someone about Hermione, even if it was your own brother. Even though it was annoying whenever he found you and her together. He would always send you teasing grins without Hermione noticing.

“You know I can feel you staring, right?” Her voice made you break out of your thoughts and look at her as her eyes were already on yours.

“I’m not staring..” You shook your head knowing that you were caught. Your eyes averted towards Harry and Ron who were now sitting opposite from you and talking with each other.

“Sure you aren’t..” Hermione mumbled as her eyes went back to her book as you looked down at your hands with a small smile.

After that you spent a few minutes not daring to look towards your best friend. Instead you tried to listen to the conversation Harry and Ron were having to pass the time. When you realized that you didn’t really care about what they were talking about, you decided to look towards the lake. The water looked so peaceful as the sun reflected on it. Many students around you had started to walk towards the castle, probably wanting to hang out in their common rooms.

You sighed, needing Hermione’s attention so badly. Taking a glance towards her, your eyes light up with an idea. Your hands grabbed the book on your lap before pulling it off her, she looked at you in question and you just smiled.

Turning your body, you let your head rest on her lap as her eyes followed your every move. Finally you looked up at her with a grin and handed her back the book.

She stared at you for a few seconds before shaking her head with a smile and moving her hand to rest on your hair. You sighed in happiness as she went back to reading and at the same time playing with your hair.

You closed your eyes and relaxed with your head on Hermione’s lap. Eventually Hermione closed the book silently and joined the conversation the boys were having quietly not to disturb you. The only thing you could focus on was her fingers gently playing with your hair and the way her stomach moved as she breathed.

Minutes later you heard Harry stand up as well as Ron as they told Hermione that they were going back to the common room.

“Okay, we will come in a bit.” You heard her say softly as the footsteps of the boys disappeared. You felt Hermione take a deep breath before pushing away some of the hair that had gotten into your face. “Y/n..”

“Hm?” You mumbled with your eyes still closed as she moved her other hand to your side, softly squeezing you.

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times before meeting her gaze as she looked down on you with a soft smile. “Hello.” You muttered and moved off her lap, sitting beside her.

“Hey..” She spoke in a quiet voice while you stretched your arms. “The boys are going back..”

You hummed before moving a little closer to your best friend, carefully laying your head on her shoulder. “Can we stay just a little more?” You asked with a soft tone with your cheek against her. You felt the vibrations as she chuckled quietly and you smiled.

“Alright.” Hermione simply said before relaxing against you.

You two sat there for a few minutes, watching the sun begin to set behind the mountains. The air started getting more chilly but you didn’t care. The warmth of your bodies was enough for you to feel comfortable.

You had pulled away from Hermione at this point, still close enough to feel her through her clothes. Your eyes moved from the sunset towards your best friend. She had yet to realize that you were looking at her.

She was watching the sight in front of you like at this moment she didn’t have any care in the world, her eyes had a soft look in them. Her lips slightly apart, you wondered how they would feel against yours.

“So pretty..” You heard her say with her soft voice.

You nod even though you knew she couldn’t see you. “Yeah..” You mumbled, still looking at her side profile.

Next thing you knew, her eyes had met yours. Her face had an unreadable expression in it, her eyebrows raised and her eyes looking at you slightly wide.

It was like the world had gone quiet. Brown eyes staring into your light green. You didn’t even notice how much closer you had gotten to her. Suddenly your body seemed to be doing things without your mind’s consent. Your right hand moved towards her neck, slowly reaching upwards and finally resting on her cheek.

Hermione seemed to be fine with that as she slightly leaned against your palm. “You’re beautiful, ‘Mione..” You muttered while your eyes moved down to her lips for a second before moving back up.

She seemed to lose her words as her lips parted, trying to find something to say. You could see a slight blush creep onto her cheeks. Your noses could touch at this point, she could feel your breath on her face. Hermione had never felt you that close to her.

If she would lean a little more towards you, she could easily touch her lips against yours. But she didn’t do that.

You both knew what you were doing. No one said anything though, not even one word came out of your mouths. The sun was almost setting by now, the light shined on her eyes making them glow a light brown. You could count all the freckles on her face.

You’ve never been this close to her, you thought.

Both of you could feel the tension in the air.

She looked between your eyes, trying to find some sort of answer. She received none.

As Hermione went to open her mouth to finally speak, the question fighting to get out of her lips. She never got to make a sound though.

Your lips crashed against hers.

They were soft and sweet.

Then when you felt her not moving you immediately pulled away with wide eyes.

“Oh my god- I’m so sorry. Hermione-”

The apologies quickly rolled out of your tongue as your best friend stared at you with a look. You didn’t even notice it as you panicked.

Of course she wouldn’t like you like that. She was just your friend and you had fucked up.

A few seconds passed with you continuing to shake your head and mumble apologies to her.

“Fuck. I’m so stupid, I’m sorry-” You didn't get to continue as Hermione reached and grabbed your neck, pulling you with forcefulness towards her and stutting you up with her lips.

This time it was you who stood frozen, only for two seconds though. You closed your eyes as you felt her lips move against yours in a slow pace. Her arms moved around your neck as she pulled you closer to her while your hands grabbed her waist.

She was kissing you.

Hermione Granger. Your best friend was kissing you.

You felt like you were on cloud nine. Her lips moved so perfectly against yours. The kiss wasn’t harsh, there was a softness in it. Her hands played with your short hairs on the back of your head making you calm down.

Seconds later, her lips disconnected from yours as you both pulled away for air. Your eyes stared at each other while you tried to calm down, your cheeks definitely a deep pink by now.

“That was…” Hermione said but stopped trying to take a breath in.

“Amazing.” You finished her sentence with a chuckle while your faces were still close. Her eyes had a spark in them, she was admiring you.

Oh for how long she wanted to do that.

She nodded, letting out a big smile that matched yours.

You stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, when it was in fact only a few seconds. The sun had settled by now, it was getting darker the seconds passed. The lights from the castle were now the only source of light. The sky although still had an orange color in it, but starting to disappear slowly as dark blue was starting to overcome it.

Hermione was the first to talk after a while.

Her arms were still around your neck, holding you close to her. “We should head back.” She spoke, her voice so quiet but you could still hear it.

You gave her a nod as you looked around you, no one was there anymore. Every student had gone back to the castle. You could stay there all night, with Hermione’s presence only. But the wind started to get colder making you agree with her.

Hermione grinned after seeing you nod as her arms left your neck and began to stand up. That wasn’t possible though since your arms were still gripping on her sides, not letting her go.

“One more, please..” You mumbled as you waited.

The brown haired girl let out a chuckle before leaning back towards you and capturing your lips with hers.

This one lasted a little longer than a peck. She pulled away with a gentle smile before tapping your arms to let go.

You with a stupid grin, still looking at her lips, you removed your hands from her waist. You watched her stand up before turning towards you and extending her hand for you to take.

“How nice.” You teased her as you grabbed it and she pulled you up.

“I know.” She smirked as you stood beside her, straightening your clothes. You playfully rolled your eyes before grabbing her book from the ground and handing it to her. “Thank you.”

You nodded before taking her hand in yours and beginning to walk towards the castle.

Her voice sounded from beside you as you entered the castle, “I have a question.”

“Yes?” You looked at her as she was already staring at you while walking.

She seemed to think for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, “What- What are we?” Hermione asked, her eyes watching every move your face made.

Now it was your time to think, although you didn’t have an exact answer you shrugged with a smile, “Whatever you want us to be.”

She suddenly stopped walking, making you stop as well and look at her in question. She took a breath as she looked into your eyes, “I like you.”

You tilted your face, something Hermione always found it cute whenever you did it. She didn’t know if it was the way your eyes looked at her, or the way your lips always moved to a smirk.

“And I like you too.”

Her eyes widened slightly, something about hearing these words leave your mouth made her blush. She smiled as you spoke again. “We don’t have to put a label yet, we can simply watch how it goes.”

Hermione nodded at that before moving closer and standing on her tiptoes to reach your lips with hers. She gave you a quick peck before smiling widely. “I’d like that.”

You two continued walking towards the Gryffindor common room, after passing by the portret you found Harry and Ron playing magic chess, Ginny was sitting in one of the couches while reading a book. Fred and George were casting some spells in one of the corners of the room.

Hermione and you went and sat close to your Ron and Harry as Ginny smiled at you.

Harry finally noticed you and gave you a smile before looking down on your intertwined hands. You never let go of Hermione's hand, you knew she wouldn’t have a problem with your friends knowing.

Your brother smirked as his eyes found yours before going back to playing chess.

Hermione moved your intertwined hands to lay on her lap as she started a conversation with Ginny. You couldn’t help but admire the girl beside you, you’ve liked her for so long. And it turned out she liked you back.

She felt like home.

At this moment, you knew you didn’t only like her. You loved her.

You were in love with Hermione Granger.

And she was finally yours.

[folkwhoreberry]

My beautiful wife please write a fanfic about Matteo x fem reader when she is in ravenclaw and its enemies to lovers do whatever in your mind I’d love to smut being involved thank you baby🍰💕🍰💕🍰💕🍰💕

Beneath The Surface

mattheo riddle x ravenclaw!reader

or... the one where tension turns tender

word count : 954

warning : none, english is not my first language!!!

on the radio : electric touch by taylor swift & fall out boy

🚬🖤

it’s no secret that you and mattheo riddle don’t get along. he’s always been a bit of a menace, constantly stirring trouble in slytherin and somehow dragging you into it. being a ravenclaw, you pride yourself on your focus and intellect, so his reckless antics irritate you more than they should.

your professors seem to find some sort of twisted amusement in your interactions, though, because when professor snape pairs you up for a potions project, you can almost feel the room tense. your friends give you sympathetic looks, and even some slytherins raise their brows at the pairing. but mattheo? mattheo just smirks, like he’s looking forward to this as much as you’re dreading it.

“looks like we’re stuck together, ravenclaw,” he says as he leans back in his chair, arms folded over his chest. there’s a glint in his eyes, one that tells you he’s already planning something to make this difficult.

you sigh. “let’s just get this over with, riddle. I don’t have time for your games.”

he grins, unfazed by your attitude. “who said anything about games? I’m serious about potions, you know.”

you raise an eyebrow, not believing him for a second. “sure you are.”

the days following are filled with tense study sessions in the library. at first, it’s a nightmare. mattheo makes offhand comments just to rile you up, and you retaliate with cutting remarks about his laziness. but somewhere along the way, you start to notice things. like how he isn’t as careless as he seems. sure, he doesn’t study like you do, but he’s got a sharp mind, and when he applies himself, he’s actually pretty good at potions.

it’s infuriating.

“you know, for someone who hates me so much, you sure do stare at me a lot,” mattheo says one evening, breaking the silence between you two. his lips curl into that cocky smile that makes your stomach flip, though you’d never admit it.

“you’re just in my line of sight,” you snap, eyes fixed on your notes.

“mhmm. right.” he chuckles, and you try your best to ignore the sound. it’s not supposed to be nice, but something about the low rumble of it makes your heart race.

after that, you’re hyper-aware of everything he does. the way his hair falls into his eyes when he’s concentrating. the way his lips quirk up when he’s about to say something sarcastic. and then there are the moments you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

one day, you’re both working on the final stages of the potion in the dungeons. the bubbling cauldron between you two is the only sound for a while, and it almost feels peaceful. until mattheo speaks up, voice softer than usual.

“you’re not as bad as I thought, you know.”

you look up, surprised. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’re… smart,” he admits, eyes flicking to the potion, then back to you. “I mean, I always knew you were, but I didn’t think you’d be… easy to work with.”

you blink, unsure of how to respond. it’s the first time he’s complimented you, and it leaves you feeling oddly flustered.

“thanks, I guess,” you mumble, trying to keep your cool.

there’s a silence that follows, heavier than the others, and you feel his gaze on you again, but this time, it’s different. it’s softer, like he’s studying you, trying to figure something out.

“what?” you ask, glancing up to meet his eyes.

“nothing,” he says, but his voice has that same softness. it sends a strange warmth through your chest, and you hate how much you like it.

weeks pass, and despite your better judgment, you find yourself enjoying the time you spend with mattheo. there’s still tension between you, but it’s not the sharp, hostile kind it used to be. now, it feels more like a pull. something drawing you closer even when you’re trying to stay apart.

the final straw comes one evening after a particularly long study session. you’re both sitting on the floor of an empty classroom, backs against the wall, exhausted but satisfied with the work you’ve done. mattheo leans his head back, closing his eyes, and you let out a small laugh.

“what?” he asks, cracking an eye open to look at you.

“nothing. just… we didn’t kill each other. I think that’s an achievement.”

he grins, eyes still half-lidded. “see? we make a good team.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “don’t get used to it.”

there’s a beat of silence, and then he says something that catches you completely off guard.

“I think I’m getting used to you, though.”

your heart skips a beat, and you turn to look at him, trying to gauge if he’s joking. but there’s no trace of mockery in his expression, just something sincere and intense in his dark eyes.

“I…,” you start, but the words die on your lips when he shifts closer, his hand brushing against yours.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his voice low. “but I think I’m done pretending I don’t feel something for you.”

you feel your breath hitch, and before you can think, you’re leaning in, closing the space between you. his lips meet yours, soft and warm, and it’s like everything clicks into place.

all the tension, all the frustration - it’s been building to this moment, and now that it’s here, it feels right.

when you finally pull back, breathless, mattheo grins at you, that familiar cocky smirk, but there’s something else there now. something softer, more real.

“took you long enough, ravenclaw,” he teases, and you can’t help but laugh.

“shut up, riddle.”

————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

a/n : mwah this is for my queen @michalliiee <33 also last fic of my bday event let’s go!!!

[wolfwind3]

A different Severitus, where Snape adopted Harry as a baby, but Harry still ended up in Gryffindor.

Tousle

Harry slunk into the common room, aware of the mess his hair was without sleakeasy. He couldn't believe he'd run out. But Hermione‘s response surprised him. “Harry, you look just like your father.”

“I do?” Harry knew nothing about his dad. Severus talked about his mum, sometimes, but never his dad.

Hermione dug out a book and flipped through it, pointing to a picture. Harry and Ron leaned forward.

“Blimey, she's right,” Ron said.

Harry smiled. Suddenly, messy hair didn't seem so bad.

At least, it didn't until he got to Potions class and saw the look on Severus’ face.

[impulseheaven]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ Snapes matchmaking - Draco Malfoy

cw: fem reader , bullying , ravenclaw reader , uncannon characters wc: 3.1k synopsis: Draco always saw himself getting with a fellow Slytherin, probably a girl picked by his father. Though it came as a surprise to him whenever a Ravenclaw caught his attention.

You know who Draco Malfoy is, everyone does. He's the son of the infamous Lucius Malfoy, and a bully. Despite these things you’ve never been a target of his antics, if anything it seems he’s respects you in some way.

You're a pureblood, and your parents are both well respected auror’s which causes them to be a bit more wealthy than most families. Every year you get new books, keeping your old ones on your bookshelf that sit in your room at home. New robes every year along with new shoes that have a cleaning charm on them to prevent them from dirtying.

You kept yourself nicely groomed, getting a fresh trim to the ends of your hair every four months, always having polished nails, and hair is always done up in some way. Your friends like to tease you sometimes, saying how you're a perfectionist when it comes to anything.

Today was just another day, you woke up and did your morning skincare. Carefully applying everything evenly, then applying minimal makeup that enhances your favorite features. You put on your uniform and made sure your blue tie was perfectly straight, casting a quick charm on your skirt to get rid of any creases or wrinkles. Tying your hair back into a perfect half up half down style, you did a once over in the mirror before slipping on your shoes and grabbing your leather school bag.

You slid your wand into your robe pocket and walked down to the great hall, slipping into your usual spot next to your friend Cho Chang. She said a small ‘Hello’ before taking a bite of her toast, you smiled as you loaded some food onto your plate.

You both preferred to sit in silence in the morning, saving the gossiping for later in the day in the courtyard. Once it was time to go to class, and your first class of the day was positions. This class was a mix of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, which wasn’t a huge problem as the two houses were more peaceful together than other combinations.

You walked into the classroom and walked over to your desk, which you shared with a fellow Ravenclaw. As everyone piled into the room, Snape was standing at the front of the room seemingly waiting for everyone to arrive before speaking. “Today you will be brewing the Edurus Potion, I will be picking new partners.” At this a few groans were heard throughout the classroom, mostly from Slytherins. Snape’s eyes scanned throughout the classroom before he started listing new partners, said people moving around the room to get to their new spot.

“Yn with Malfoy.” You sighed, although Malfoy had never bullied you in particular you still aren't fond of his attitude. You picked up your bag and walked over to the empty seat next to Malfoy. Despite his attitude you knew he excelled in potions, and you did too so this will be an easy grade for the both of you. As soon as everyone got into their groups, Snape wrote the page needed on the board and told everyone to get to work. You grabbed your potions book out of your bag and flipped to the page on the board, you noticed Draco stood next to you not getting his book.

You looked over at him, “do you not have your potions book?” He clicked his tongue, “left it in my dorm.” You only hummed and slid it to the space in between you two, “could you get the ingredients while i prepare the cauldron?” He hummed and read over the needed ingredients before going to gather them.

As time went on throughout the class Draco noticed how polite you were being with him despite his.. personality. So he slowly stopped being so rude and just hummed and followed your lead, not really up to being a jerk at the moment. Finally the potion turned the correct color and you raised your hand, only lowering it once Snape walked towards you two.

He looked at the both of you before looking down at the potion, “Twenty points to both Slytherin and Ravenclaw.” You couldn't help but smile as Snape rarely gave points to other houses besides Slytherin. “Thank you professor.” Snape hummed shortly before dramatically walking with his robe blowing behind him. Eventually class had ended and you said a polite “Bye” to Malfoy before exiting the class.

As the day passed on Malfoy couldn’t forget about you, of course he saw small glimpses of you in the halls and in class. He knew of your blood line and your parents due to his father mentioning them one time but he couldn’t remember why.

Once all his classes were over he met up with his group of friends in the courtyard, they rarely sat outside but today was a nice day with a small gust of wind every now and then. They all sat near the tree, where that incident occurred with him becoming a ferret. As Pansy was gossiping with Enzo and Blaise he noticed you stroll in the courtyard alongside Cho Chang.

He never knew you two were friends but as he thought it over it made sense. You were quite similar but despite that his eyes stayed on you and watched you two sit down on the grass, your legs layed out crossed and you propped yourself up with your arms behind you.

He watched as you two conversed, but as you let out a laugh he noticed how loud it was. Usually this would irritate him but he felt how his stomach fluttered. He clicked his tongue and looked back over to his friends, not missing Pansy’s eyebrow raise signifying she caught him staring at the girl.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the conversation with his friends, not noticing the new pair of eyes on him from across the courtyard.

As you and Cho caught up your eyes caught sight of the familiar platinum hair, taking a double look as you stared at him smiling with his friends. No doubt they were gossiping about something, you felt how your ears burned whenever he had a devilish smirk on his face as Blaise whispered something in his ear. Probably about some Gryffindor you thought.

You only looked away as you heard Cho let out a small gasp, turning back to her as she had her brows raised. “Yn are you staring at Malfoy?” Her voice waved as she said his name, as if it was some curse. You only shrugged, “he’s pleasant to the eye.” Her shocked expression turned into a judgy look.

You sighed, knowing what was coming. “You cannot like him yn he's a bully, and it’s rumored he's a death eater .” As she said the last part he voice lowered significantly. You huffed, “Cho I appreciate the advice but I doubt i’ll even speak to him.” She hummed, “well whatever you do just remember who he is at least.” You nodded and the conversation shifted back to normal.

As the days passed on you noticed that Snape continuously paired you and Malfoy together although you didn't mind it anymore. He lost the snarky attitude and was more relaxed around you, mostly letting you take the lead in the potion making unless you needed help.

Though today you had to stay in your dorm, suddenly getting hit with a cold. You never minded getting a bit sick, using it as an excuse to take a rare break from school.

Whenever you came back the next day you were on the way to potions whenever someone fell into pace next to you. You looked over and couldn’t contain the surprised expression on your face whenever you see Malfoy next to you.

“Where were you yesterday?” His voice was smooth and firm as he spoke, looking straight ahead. You said a small ‘oh’ before readjusting the strap of your bag that was perched on your shoulder. “I had a small cold.” He clicked his tongue, “Why didn’t you get a healing potion from Madam Pomfret?” You shrugged your shoulders. “I used it as an excuse to rest, as I rarely take days off from school.

He huffed “Never miss again, I was stuck with Goyle that git made me do all the work.”

You smiled slightly, “isn't that your friend.” He rolled his eyes, ���barely, he just follows me around.” As you both arrived to potions he held the door open for you, both of you walking into the class. Before you two could separate to your respective seats Snape called you both to his desk. You looked over at Malfoy with a raised brow and he shrugged slightly to show he had no idea either.

You both walked to the professor’s desk and stood in front of it, he didn’t look up from the paper he had in his hand as he spoke. “You two will be partners for the rest of the year.” Your eyes widened slightly and you glanced over at Malfoy before looking back to your professor. He waved you two off and the both of you awkwardly walked over to his desk.

“Do you know what that was about?” You turned to the blonde with a curious look, he only shook his head as he glared at Snape.

Draco knew what Snape was doing, he knew as soon as Snape met his eyes from across the room with a barely noticeable smirk. He huffed and knew to mention it to his father over winter break.

Thankfully today the work was just a two page front and back assignment, writing in detail about a potion of your choice that you've brewed in class this year. You turned to Malfoy, “what potion are you doing?” He lifted his head from looking down at his parchment, “Im doing amortentia.” You hummed, nodding “I think i’ll do that too.”

You two began to write in silence, the only sound coming from the shared table was your quill’s against parchment and the occasional tapping from you as you pondered your next sentence.

Eventually you finished your paper’s, quickly reading over it to make sure it was to your standards before standing up and handing the papers over to snape. As you walked back to your seat a foot stuck out into the walkway and before you could register it you tripped over. Letting out a gasp, you caught your on your palms as you fell so your face didn't smack against the cobble floor. As you stood you heard Snape rather loudly say “Detention to you Nott.”

You stood up, aware of how red your face had become due to embarrassment. You ran your hand’s over your uniform before quickly shuffling back over to your seat. As you sat back down Malfoy turned to you, “You alright?” You nodded, “‘m fine, just a bit embarrassed.” A sheepish smile spread on your face, Draco couldn't help as his face flushed slightly whenever you smiled.

Once the class ended you took your time packing up your bag, letting out a breath as you pushed open the door. Draco was leaning against the wall, pushing himself off of it once you exited the classroom. Once again he fell into a pace next to you, “Malfoy aren't you friends with Nott?” He clicked his tongue “Sadly.” You huffed out a small laugh, “do you know why he did that?” He only shook his head, “No but i’ll make sure he apologizes.” You looked over at him with a smile, “Thanks.” He smiled back at you, saying bye as he went down the hall to his next class.

Throughout the day your face flushed as you remembered Draco’s smile, something he rarely did towards anyone that wasn't his friends. Are you and Draco friends? You hummed to yourself and saved that question for later.

You decided you would do a bit of studying for your Transfiguration test you had next week, liking to be ahead of your studies. You collected the needed supplies from your dorm before venturing to the library, finding a secluded spot near a window. You set up all your things and took a seat, quickly getting sucked into your studies that you didn't notice the pair of footsteps coming up behind you.

Draco smirked as he noticed you weren't paying attention to your surroundings, sneaking up behind you. He lifted his hands and placed them on your shoulders “boo.” He pulled away as you yelped slightly, turning around in your chair with a glare. He only smirked at you as you glared at him, he moved to sit down in the chair across from you.

You huffed and placed your quill down, taking the opportunity to take a small break. “That was not funny Malfoy.” You shook your head as he only shrugged, “I found it funny.” You rolled your eyes, “of course you did.” He watched as you stretched your arms, taking notice that you’ve probably been here for at least an hour by now.

You picked up your quill again, looking back down at your parchment as you spoke “are we friends Malfoy?” He raised his brows at this, straightening his posture a bit. “Do you want to be friends?” You looked up at him, “If you want to, then yes.” As you spoke that ever so charming smile slid onto his face again, causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies.

From then on you called him Draco, and he addressed you by your first name rather than your last. It became a habit for the both of you to walk to and from potions, chatting about any new drama the two of you heard or about a new assignment in a class.

Of course Draco’s friends picked up on this, watching as he glanced at the Ravenclaw table during meals, how he watched you as you passed him in the halls, how he would constantly be talking to you potions no matter how many times Snape told him to be quiet.

Honestly they were a bit shocked at first, but once they all spoke about it they realized it made perfect sense. You both had well respected families, both of you were physically attractive people, your grades were as good as Draco’s and some were even better, and your personality perfectly balanced with his.

One weekend all of them were lounging in the common room, Draco sitting by himself in one of the armchairs, Pansy sitting on a pillow with her back against the couch Blaise and Theodore were on, with Enzo and Mattheo on the other couch. Pansy clicked her tongue, “Y'know Draco we would all love to meet that little Ravenclaw you always hang out with.” At this Draco tensed, he knew how his friends were and he wondered how you would react to their personalities.

Enzo hummed in agreement, “yea you're constantly staring at her during dinner, kinda creepy dude.” At this Draco rolled his eyes, “I do not, but I guess I can ask her.” He looked away as he thought it over, I mean if you can deal with him then why wouldn't you like his friends.

The next day it was a Saturday which meant no classes, so you were seated in the library reading a muggle book called ‘little women’. You never cared much about bloodstatus, although your parents were a bit more prejudiced. As you were reading you heard as Draco walked towards you, immediately knowing it was him from the way it sounded. You lifted your head as soon as he rounded the bookshelf corner, you smiled at him and made room for him on the small bay window seat. He slid into the seat next to you, not caring as your legs brushed against one another.

“Hi Draco” you closed your book but made sure to remember the page number. He offered you the soft smile that seemingly was only reserved for you. “Hi yn, I have a question for you.” You hummed at this, turning your full attention to him. You noticed he was a bit hesitant so you smiled as a way to tell him to continue, “yknow my friends right?” At this you nodded, remembering how Nott tripped you in class a couple of weeks ago.

He glanced away for a moment before looking back at you, “well they’ve noticed we’re friends, and well they are nosy. They want to meet you, but if you don't want to, I completely understand.” He was silently referring to the incident with Theodore, knowing why you would be hesitant. He noticed how you drifted off into thought before nodding, “where would it be?” He couldn’t help but smile, “In our common room, tomorrow.” You smiled and nodded.

The next day you met up with Draco in the dungeons right outside the portrait to enter the Slytherin common room. He pushed off the wall once you neared, “if you want to leave just let me know alright?” You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. If Draco was honest was a bit nervous, over the past few weeks he’s grown to like you. A bit more than he realized, and he knew that if you couldn't handle his friends he would have to forget such feelings.

He said the password as the portrait opened, you trailed behind him into the common room. Immediately it was evidently different from the Ravenclaw one, but it was nice nonetheless. You spotted Draco’s group that was sprawled around couches near the fire as you two walked over to the group.

You and him sat down on the unoccupied couch, and you looked around noticing literally all of them were staring at you. Immediately you could tell it would be hard to win over Nott, and Riddle but that didn't bother you. You turned to Pansy who was in the armchair near the couch you were, she had a curious look in her eye as she looked at you. You offered her a smile, “what lipstick do you use? It’s gorgeous.” You were being completely honest, you loved the dark red lipstick she was wearing. At this she immediately smiled as she told you the name and brand, complimenting your hair.

Once Blaise saw Pansy talking to you he butted in and joined in, along with Enzo. Draco smiled to himself, immediately recognizing that you and Pansy would get along quickly. He was nervous about her, knowing her tendency to be a bit too blunt. Theodore snickered to himself as he looked at Draco, which caught his attention. “What?” Theodore only shook his head as he smirked, “you're whipped.”

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