#so he requested to be transferred to an American Ministry

[ficandkaboodle]

What if the Ministry’s headquarters is constantly moving and that’s why stuff doesn’t add up? Kind of like how Olympus in the Percy Jackson series goes where civilization powerhouses develop, but for convenience and goals’ sake. Like, they do have abbeys and ministries located all over but one of the first and oldest ones is in Italy. Sort of like a taunt to the Vatican. Like when a Burger King opens up across the street from a McDonald’s or whatever.

But as focuses expanded, so did where they had ministries established.

In the beginning, for the most part, ministries remained in the more west and southwestern regions of Europe (Italy, France, and few in the UK, etc). But we know they expanded because Terzo carried out at least some of his studies in a Polish location.

Eventually they broke ground in parts of the US with the leading location being in LA. However, the Italian Ministry closest to the Vatican will always be Ground Zero essentially. But maybe they relocated the main base of operations to Sweden when it was decided that the Church would focus on a more heavy metal style and they (read: Sister) were aware of Scandinavia’s enthusiasm for metal.

From then, a few years later, they shuffled off to America as they began to gain a bit of a following in addition to pushback, which would do wonders for

Then relocated the main hub to Sweden because of its rich metal history before shuffling to America because they were gaining a following while also experiencing pushback that would do wonders for the attention they could gain. After all, how many people even knew about Ghost until religious nut jobs raised a big stink?

Because the Italian base is of such importance and one of the larger locations, it’s customary for a predominant amount of personnel intending to rise in ranks or commit to diabology to spend a good chunk of their time there. It may not always be consecutive, and it’s not unheard of for a priest, bishop, etc to go back and forth between the Italian Ministry and another one located in another city or country.

(I’ve been thinking about this for a while but actually putting my thoughts to words was inspired by @writingjourney’s deep post regarding the use of language and influences on accents. Though they do it way better and prettier.)

[obsessedwithceleste]

So American

Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Summary: based on this request🫶🏽 So American by Olivia Rodrigo is ON LOOP💕

word count: 3.4k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Pushing open the heavy doors, eyes begin turn and you try to ignore all the chattering and stares directed your way as you make your way into the dimly lit defense against the darks art class room.

You knew people would talk. Transfer students were rare. And transferring during the sixth year? Basically unheard of. So the intrigued whispers were valid you supposed. But that didn’t make them any less annoying, and didn’t make you feel any less self conscious.

“You’re the new student aren’t you?” A voice asks, startling you.

You look to your side to see a girl with pale skin and short, cropped black hair staring up at you from her seat. A slight smirk dancing on her lips as she leans back in her chair.

“Uh yeah, that’s me,” you reply cautiously.

You hadn’t made any friends quite yet, though not for lack of trying. It was all just a bit overwhelming.

The girl tilts her head, looking at you in consideration.

“Sit.” She says, patting the seat next to her. “I’m Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. I want to hear all about wherever it is you came from. I’ll bet Daph and Milly would too. We don’t get new students often.”

"Yeah, I kind of got the sense," you reply, gingerly taking a seat.

The two girls sitting at the desk in front of Pansy look back, offering friendly smiles as you place your bag on the ground beside you.

“So where exactly did you transfer from?” Pansy asks, leaning in.

“I’m from America. I just transferred here from Ilvermorny,” You reply.

“That is so wicked,” Daphne gasps, beginning to look excited.

“Have you ever pet an eagle?” Milly asks.

Pansy turns to the girl, making a face. “Millicent, it’s the American muggles who worship eagles,” she says with an annoyed huff.

You open your mouth to correct them when a voice from behind you interrupts.

“Hey, that’s my spot.”

The four of you turn now to see a boy with platinum blonde hair glowering at you. A rowdy looking group of boys surrounding him.

“Oh bugger off Draco. Haven’t you met the new student? They’re from America,” Pansy says, dismissing the boy with a wave of her hand.

“Yeah? How’d you find yourself on this side of the ocean?” The boy, Draco asks, crossing his arms.

“My mom works for the American ministry, our family got sent over as part of the ambassador program,” you reply easily, not really liking the boy’s tone.

“Ha. Mom. Listen to them, they’re so American!” One of the other boys laughs.

“Oh shut it Lorenzo,” Daphne sighs, giving the boy a light whack on the arm.

“Wow, I'm using American dialect, who would’ve thought? It’s almost like I’m from America. Shocker,” you retort.

Pansy lets out a snort. “Oh I do believe I’m going to like you.” She says, giving you a large smile. “And Draco, for Salazar’s sake, go sit with Enzo. Not everything is about you.”

“You’ll have to excuse the boys, they’re, well- boys. They’ll grow on you,” Daphne tells you with a grimace.

You let out a laugh as the professor appears at the front of the room and a hush falls over the classroom.

You do your best to concentrate on the lesson, not wanting to start the year off with a bad impression, but can’t help but notice the cheeky smiles the brunette boy, Lorenzo, keeps shooting you from a few rows over. No matter how many times you try to refocus, your eyes keep wandering over, meeting his. Pushing him from your mind, you force yourself to once more to focus on the professor at the front. His long, black hair was awfully greasy.

“Professor Binns is a drag. He’s dead, and wants us all to die of boredom so that we suffer with him,” Daphne tells you.

“And Flitwick is a bit of a loon, but at least he’s entertaining,” Pansy adds.

“And course there Snape. Scary as all hell, but won’t bother you long as you’re quiet and mind your business.”

Tapping your glass with your wand, you shake excitedly as it fills to the brim with coffee. You had a particular weakness for iced lattes and hadn’t had a good one in ages. The group of Slytherin girls had once again accosted you, not that you minded, and had taken it upon themselves to give you a full run down of the school. Now, the four of you sat in the Great Hall as it slowly filled with students eager for dinner.

“Hey ‘merica,” a voice greets cheerfully from behind you.

You turn to see Lorenzo grinning down at you as he takes the seat on your open side, the rest of the boys joining as well.

“Havin a cup of coffee?” One of the other boys, Mattheo, asks in what’s probably the worst American accent you’d ever heard. Somehow the teasing was significantly less charming when he did it.

“Bloody hell Lorenzo, Matt, leave the girl alone. Being from America is not her only personality trait.” Pansy says with exasperation.

“Oh come off it Pans, I’m only teasing. Besides, look at her, drinking iced coffee, so American.” Lorenzo laughs.

“Sorry I’m not interested in drinking your dried leaf water,” you reply, rolling your eyes. But you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you.

Lorenzo gives you a satisfied smirk before going to fill his plate with food, and when you turn back to the girls, a huge smile is plastered across Daphne’s face.

He so likes you. She mouths, looking rather giddy.

You choose to ignore the girl however, opting instead to turn back to Pansy.

“What does the rest of your schedule look like tomorrow?” She asks, leaning over to look at the class list you’d placed on the table before you.

“Dunno. Dumbledore just gave me the list when I arrived, didn’t really get a say in picking classes,” you reply with a shrug.

“He clearly has taste, I’ll see you tomorrow in herbology ‘merica,” Enzo butts in, glancing at the page himself.

“Oh shove it pretty boy,” Pansy retorts, not even bothering to look over at the boy who was smiling down at you warmly.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll save you a seat.”

The rest of dinner goes smoothly as you seem to fit right in with the group of Slytherins who had apparently decided to keep you. While a bit of a prick at first, Enzo was growing on you, laughing at all your jokes and over all just making you feel at home.

“I don’t know what you put in that boy’s tea, but it’s working,” Daphne says lightheartedly as the four of you leave the dining hall.

“Sorry?” You ask, caught very much off guard.

“Enzo. I’ve never seen him warm up to someone so fast. He’s usually a right foul git,” Milly explains.

Pansy sighs, “What Millicent means, is Enzo isn’t usually one to be overly friendly to new people,” Pansy says.

“Oh. Well, I don’t know that he’s friendly with me, so much as teasing constantly,” you reply, growing nervous as you’re not quite able to make out the direction of the conversation.

“Oh no. He’s totally into you, he wasn’t being a complete pompous prick tonight” Daphne reassures confidently as you make your way back down the stairs to the dungeon.

“You are so lucky that we’re here to guide you,” Pansy declares.

The next day, you find your way out to the greenhouse and are honestly unsurprised to find that Enzo had stayed true to his word, saving you a seat next to him at one of the creeky, wooden tables covered in greenery.

“Didn’t pick you out to be one for herbology,” you comment idly as you take your seat next to the pretty brunette boy.

Lorenzo smirks over at you. “Think I can’t get my hands dirty?” He asks with a teasing grin.

“Well we wouldn’t want you breaking a nail would we?” You reply, shooting a sly look back at the boy.

“Not to worry love, lucky for you, I’m the best herbologist in the class so you won’t have to worry about my pristine nail beds thank you very much.”

“Lorenzo Berkshire, you are an arrogant prick,” you say with a laugh.

“You like it.”

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks as you turn away, eyes roaming the greenhouse for the Professor. You see the plump old lady waddling up to the front of the room, a cart of strange cactus looking plants following dutifully behind her.

“Well?” She prods, once she’s standing at the front, gazing ahead at the rows of students. “The Mimbulus mimbletonia isn’t going to walk itself to your stations now is it? Come along!” She urges, gesturing for everyone to approach the cart to collect one of the oozy looking plants.

You see Lorenzo’s nose scrunch up in disgust as you both choose a pot from the cart.

“Careful not to touch the boils,” Enzo murmurs to you, gingerly lifting his plant and making his way back to your table.

You follow closely behind, noting the rather putrid smell the plant emitted. You let out a shudder.

“Who can tell me the properties of these lovely specimens?” The Professor, who Lorenzo whispers is called Professor Sprout, asks as students are still moving around to collect their plant. “Mr. Longbottom?”

“It’s known for being rather squirming I think. And if you poke the boils, it squirts out stinknap. My gran used to collect bottles of the stuff,” a timid looking boy answers from the back of the class.

“Excellent! 5 points to Gryffindor!” Sprout exclaims gleefully, clapping her hands with excitement.

Lorenzo scowls at the boy who visibly shrinks back.

“Mr. Longbottom was quite right! We will be extracting the stinknap from our Mimbulus mimbletonia today as it’s a rather rare potion ingredient indeed!”

Professor Sprout goes on to demonstrate the technique used to extract the foul smelling liquid and you force yourself to listen intently, not wanting the rancid smelling odor all over you.

Once Professor Sprout releases the class back to perform the task themselves, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that Lorenzo is able to replicate the process with flawless precision.

You watch in fascination as the boy’s usually soft features harden with concentration as he carefully fills his first vial. You watch him fill a second before moving over to your own plant to copy his process.

“Make sure you keep a consistent pressure, that way it won’t spurt out at random,” the boy tells you as your vial slowly begins to fill. You keep a steady concentration, determined to impress the boy, eyes not leaving the task before you.

The vial is almost full when you suddenly feel yourself being shoved forward. Your concentration broken, the boil spews out the foul smelling liquid, covering your robes in the sticky substance.

Whipping around, you see the tall boy from earlier, Longbottom was it? Looking at you with wide eyes.

“What the bloody hell Longbottom?” Lorenzo snaps, glaring at the boy who’s now visibly shaking.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you! Just almost dropped my plant is all, I’m sorry!” The boy stutters, stumbling over his words under Lorenzo’s piercing stare.

You feel bad for the boy as it was clearly an accident, but can’t help being annoyed that you’re now covered in manure smelling gunk.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, stripping your robe off. Surely Professor Sprout would understand you not wearing your foul smelling robe. You grimace seeing the slimy substance splattered across the fabric. The poor house elves wear going to have one hell of a time getting that stain out.

With a quick nod, Longbottom scurries off without another word.

“He’s always been a bit of a wanker,” Enzo mutters, still glaring at the retreating back of the boy before turning his attention back to you. “Here, take this,” he says, shrugging off his own robe and offering it to you.

“Oh, it’s really fine,” you try to tell him, but he insists. After a bit of back and forth, you finally give in, sliding the still-warm robes on.

“You’re pretty wearing my clothes,” Lorenzo tells you with a satisfied smirk.

“Oh shove off,” you laugh, feeling heat rise in your cheeks once more.

“Oi, shove off,” he mimics with an ever familiar teasing grin. “Your accent is so American.”

“Yeah? You like it.”

It was a windy day for a quidditch match you thought as you brushed your hair away from your face for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Do you have quidditch in America?” Daphne asks from her spot right next to you in the stands.

You, Daphne, Pansy, and Millicent had managed to wade through the crowds of students to the front of the stands, securing a perfect view of the pitch.

“Of course. I used to play for my house at Ilvermorny,” you reply, watching as the two teams enter the field.

“Really? I was never much into quidditch, but Matty always likes when I watch his games. He’s the beater, just there,” Daph chatters, pointing out the curly haired boy on the field below.

“And there’s your lover boy. Lorenzo’s a chaser, long with Theodore and Marcus,” Pansy adds, giving you a playful nudge.

You just roll your eyes at the girl’s playful antics, but can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips as you see Enzo wave up to the stands in your direction. Of course Pansy takes notice, but says nothing, allowing her smug smile to speak for itself.

After your herbology class, Lorenzo just kept popping up everywhere. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was friends the group of girls that had accosted you, but he always seemed to have an eye for you.

Just this morning at breakfast he had taken his usual seat beside you, determined to ensure your presence at his match today. He’d even given you one of his thick green and silver scarves ‘so that you’d fit right in’ he’d said.

You watch contentedly as the match begins, the dark green robes contrasting nicely against yellow. Lorenzo weaves through the air with enviable agility, working seamlessly with Theo and Marcus. It’s not even ten minutes in when Theo is able to make the first goal of the game.

“Slytherin usually has a pretty easy match against Hufflepuff,” Pansy tells you, eyes not leaving Blaise as he and Mattheo wreak havoc on the other team.

Pansy’s words seem to ring true as the match goes on with Slytherin able to take a sixty point lead.

Watching the match it’s easy to begin missing home. Quidditch had been something you looked forward to every school year, and you missed your teammates. Watching Lorenzo, Theo, and Marcus now and the ease with which they worked together to make the game seem effortless felt like a blow to the gut.

It was a fun match to watch, and you couldn’t help but cheer wildly when Lorenzo scored yet another goal. But in the back of your mind, you wished it was you on that pitch. You really hadn’t felt a sense of homesickness since moving, so it surprised you that it was hitting you now of all times.

Still, you continue to smile and cheer, hoping the adrenaline of Slytherin’s win would overtake you as you and the other girls rush down to the field to congratulate the boys on a match well played.

“Hey ‘merica, enjoy the match?” Lorenzo asks, his charismatic smile practically glowing as he steps off the pitch.

You’re about to respond when you get your first real good look at the boy in front of you.

Shit.

His fluffy, brown is tossled from the wind and you can see the sheen of sweat across his forehead. And his uniform. God, his quidditch uniform fit him deliciously.

“It was great,” you finally spit out, horrified by the way your thoughts had spiraled dangerously off course.

Making eye contact with Enzo though, you’re a thousand percent sure the boy knew exactly what you were thinking if his sly smirk was anything to go off of.

Daphne swoops in to unknowlingly save you however, as she sidles up next to you.

“Enz, did you know y/n played quidditch in America?” She asks, resting her arm on your shoulder and cocking her head to the side innocently.

Lorenzo’s eyebrows shoot up at this as he glances down at you in surprise.

“Really? We’ll have to go flying sometime then.” He replies, his smile reverting comfortably on his face.

"Yeah! Today seemed like such a nice day for flying though," Daphne comments.

“‘Fraid I don’t have my broom,” you respond, trying to make out what Daphne was getting at.

“That’s alright, I have mine right here,” he says, thumping his broom lightly on the ground.

Daphne watches the two of you banter with delight.

"You should take her flying Enz. Come on y/n, I saw the way you were looking at those brooms earlier. You totally were thinking about going for a ride," she tells him. You can tell she's egging the two of you on.

"Oh, I don't know if now's the best time-"

"What's Enzo doing now? You're not cutting out of the afterparty now are you?" Mattheo asks, coming over and wrapping a sweaty arm around Daphne. Her nose wrinkles in disgust, but she doesn't say anything.

"Think I'm going to take 'merica here for a spin on the broom, hear she used to play quidditch herself," Lorenzo tells him before you can protest. "We'll be back before the party starts, we'll meet you there."

As though it had already been decided, Lorenzo hops back on his broom, patting the spot in front of him, gesturing for you to get on.

"Go on, we'll catch up with you later," Daphne says, shooing you forward.

Hesitantly, you climb on, hyper aware of the fact that Lorenzo's arms were now wrapped securely around you, his breath tickling the hairs on your neck. He kicks off, and the two of you soar into the sky, your friends getting lost in the distance.

You feel a smile grow on your face as the wind blows wildly through your hair. Leaning forward and closing your eyes you revel in the feeling of freedom that flying brings you. You'd missed the feeling of being on your broom more than you'd realized.

"Having a good time love?" Enzo asks, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Mhmm. Didn't realize how homesick I'd get just watching a quidditch match. Seems so silly," you reply.

"It's not silly," Enzo reassures, "were you any good?" he asks. You can't see his face, but you can practically see the teasing grin in his voice.

"My house won the cup two years in a row," you boost proudly. "I was a chaser too. Maybe I should join the quidditch team here."

"Yeah? Think you could beat me?"

"Why? Afraid of a little competition? It wouldn't be the first time us Americans beat you Brits," you taunt.

"Ha ha, 'merica. Original." Lorenzo responds dryly. You can feel the boy shaking his head at you from behind.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so American, I know."

"You are though! What kind of psycho puts ice in their water?" He protests.

"Those of us who want cold water! Obviously. But in all seriousness, you wouldn't stand a chance against me on the pitch" you laugh.

When you don't hear Lorenzo laugh with you, you lean back, turning to find your noses brushing as he stares down intently at you. You suddenly realize that your back is now nested contentedly into his chest as his arms tighten around you. It feels as though all thoughts disappear from your brain as you lean in, closing the gap between you.

It starts out gentle at first, as if Lorenzo was shocked that you had actually kissed him. But as soon as realization fully hits him, he takes over with a determined hunger, moving his soft lips eagerly against your own. You find yourself lost in the warmth spreading over you as the whole sensation leaves you buzzing. His lips work against your in a mesmerizing dance, your head spinning as you melt into him.

You don't even realize immediately when your feet touch the ground once more, forgetting that you had previously been soaring over the school grounds just moments ago.

"How?" you ask, your mind still hazy.

Lorenzo just laughs, his hands grasping your waist to steady you.

"What can I say? Maybe I'm just the better flyer."

"Oh as if, you just distracted me," you scoff.

"Yeah? Let me do it again."

I simply do not want to talk about how long it took me to write this okay? Okay.

Anyway, channeled my inner Mean Girls obsession into this one, cry abt it🫶🏽

[summarychannel]

In response to the speech of Hassan Nasrallah and Hezbollah... America sends military planes to participate in the Gaza war Updates on the Al-Aqsa Flood operation presented in this episode of Samri Channel. Israel has lost more than $7.5 billion since the outbreak of its war with Gaza, according to Yogav Gardos, head of the Budget Department in the Israeli Ministry of Finance. Yesterday evening, Wednesday, Gardos revealed the estimates of the Israeli Ministry of Finance regarding the enormous damage caused by the war to the country’s budget, stressing that after only 3 weeks the damage had reached 30 billion shekels ($7.5 billion).

 According to The Marker, a daily Hebrew-language economic newspaper published by the Haaretz group in Israel, Gardos explained that losses in the state budget translate into increased war expenditures and aid programs or due to a decrease in state revenues due to a slowdown in economic activity. According to Gardos, the fighting expenses alone have so far reached 20 billion shekels ($5 billion), meaning that each day of fighting costs about one billion shekels ($250 million), and the total spending will increase as the fighting continues.

 In addition to defense expenses, according to Gardos, there are many other expenses. The cost of evacuating more than 100,000 Israeli refugees and injured people amounts to 1.7 billion shekels ($430 million). The head of the budget department in the Israeli Ministry of Finance said that the Ministry of Finance has already transferred 5 billion shekels, among other expenses, to equip weapons, assist local authorities, and evacuate residents. Gardos also estimated that the economy's GDP damage amounts to about NIS 10 billion per month ($2.5 billion) from the fighting. This means that growth in Israel will slow significantly in 2023.

The US House of Representatives plans to consider a separate emergency aid package for Israel worth $14.3 billion, following the decision of Republicans in the US House of Representatives to separate the aid provided to Israel from a larger supplementary funding request submitted by the administration of US President Joe Biden. Republicans in the House of Representatives say they intend to move forward with the aid bill for Israel today, Thursday, despite the opposition of the Biden administration and some Democrats in Congress. The White House said earlier this week that "US President Joe Biden will veto the independent aid package."

The White House noted that "the proposal turns Israel into a pawn in American domestic politics," adding that "the legislation will send a terrible message to Russia by depriving Ukraine of aid." The Biden administration had initially requested $106 billion from the US Congress in an additional emergency funding request, which also included more than $61 billion in aid to Ukraine.

Finally, US Secretary of State Anthony Blinken arrived this morning in Tel Aviv, where he intends to put pressure on Israel in particular to ensure the protection of Palestinian civilians in light of the continuing war with the Hamas movement. On his second tour in the Middle East within a few weeks, Blinken will meet Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and attend a meeting of his security cabinet, according to what an Agence France-Presse journalist reported. Blinken said from Tel Aviv: “I will discuss with Israeli officials its right to defend itself and deliver aid to Gaza.”

Sky News Arabia quoted Palestinian sources as saying that Blinken will present to the Israeli side a proposal for a temporary truce for 12 hours, subject to renewal, in exchange for the release of most of the foreign detainees. According to the sources, Blinken will request permission for the movement of UNRWA and Red Cross vehicles. Israel will also be offered to bring 50,000 liters of fuel into Gaza, in addition to increasing the number of aid trucks entering Gaza to 200 per day. For its part, the US State Department announced that Blinken will stress in Israel the necessity of increasing the volume and speed of bringing humanitarian aid into Gaza.

 He will also stress in Israel the need to prevent the expansion of the conflict. In addition, Blinken will discuss ensuring the immediate release of those detained by Hamas, according to what the US State Department reported, which stressed “supporting Israel’s right to defend itself in accordance with international law.” In Tel Aviv, Blinken seeks to achieve two goals: to pressure Israel to protect Palestinian civilians in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, and to ensure the continued entry of humanitarian aid that is still arriving in insufficient quantities.

On Thursday, Blinken told reporters at Andrews Air Force Base before heading to the Middle East: “We will talk about concrete steps that can and should be taken to reduce the harm caused to men, women and children in Gaza.” Blinken reaffirmed "Israel's right to defend itself," but expressed concerns about the suffering of Palestinian civilians.

#Palestine #Egypt #Gaza

[warningsine]

DOHA, Sept 18 (Reuters) - Iran and the United States have been informed that $6 billion in frozen Iranian funds were transferred to accounts in Qatar, a source said, triggering a carefully choreographed swap on Monday of five detainees each between the two arch foes.

Iran's Foreign Ministry spokesperson Nasser Kanaani said the funds, which had been frozen in South Korea, would be in Iran's possession on Monday so the deal mediated by Qatar during months of talks could go ahead.

There was no immediate public U.S. comment.

"Both parties have been notified by Qatar that all $6 billion has been transferred from Switzerland to bank accounts in Qatar," the source briefed on the matter told Reuters.

"A Qatari aircraft is on standby in Iran waiting to fly five soon-to-be released U.S. citizens and two relatives to Doha on Monday morning."

Under the deal, the five Americans with dual nationality are expected to leave Tehran and head to Qatar's capital Doha and then from there fly to the United States.

In return, five Iranians detained in the U.S. will be released. The Iranian Foreign ministry spokesperson said two would return to Iran while two would stay in the U.S. at their request. One detainee would join his family in a third country, he added.

The deal, first made public on Aug. 10, will remove a major irritant between Washington and Tehran, although the two sides remain deeply at odds over issues ranging from Iran's nuclear ambitions and its influence around the region to U.S. sanctions and America's military presence in the Gulf.

South Korea's Foreign Ministry had said on Monday it was working with all parties on the deal "to ensure smooth progress of all procedures so that it will be resolved once and for all."

SANCTIONS WAIVED

The U.S. dual citizens to be released include Siamak Namazi, 51, and Emad Sharqi, 59, both businessmen, and Morad Tahbaz, 67, an environmentalist who also holds British nationality. They were released from prison and put under house arrest last month.

A fourth U.S. citizen was also released into house arrest, while a fifth was already under house arrest. Their identities have not been disclosed.

Iranian officials have named the five Iranians to be released by the U.S. as Mehrdad Moin-Ansari, Kambiz Attar-Kashani, Reza Sarhangpour-Kafrani, Amin Hassanzadeh and Kaveh Afrasiabi. Two Iranian officials previously said that Afrasiabi would remain in the United States but did not mention others.

Ties between Washington and Tehran have been boiling since Donald Trump, a Republican, pulled the U.S. out of a nuclear deal between Iran and global powers when he was president in 2018. Reaching another nuclear deal has gained little traction since then, as President Joe Biden prepares for the 2024 U.S. election.

As a first step in the deal, Washington waived sanctions to allow the transfer of $6 billion in Iranian funds from South Korea to Qatar. The funds were blocked in South Korea, normally one of Iran's largest oil customers, when Washington imposed tough financial sanctions on Tehran and the cash could not be transferred.

Under the agreement, Doha agreed to monitor how Iran spends the unfrozen funds to ensure it goes on non-sanctioned humanitarian goods, such as food and medicine.

The transfer of Iran's funds has drawn criticism from U.S. Republicans who say Biden, a Democrat, is in effect paying a ransom for U.S. citizens. The White House has defended the deal.

[usafphantom2]

Ukraine renews requests for F-16 and other Allied fighters

"It's time we give our top Ukrainian guns the tools to finish the job. Ukraine needs F-16 now," said the Ukrainian Ministry of Defense.

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 08/31/2022 - 21:23in Military, War Zones

The Ukrainian military renewed their requests to the allies for the donation of advanced jet fighters, with a special focus on the American-made F-16 Fighting Falcon, in a series of social media posts on Saturday, on Ukraine Aviation Day.

"In the last 184 days, Ukrainian Air Force pilots have been fighting a numerically and technologically superior enemy," the text said in a video posted by the Ministry of Defense of Ukraine, which used the song "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins from the film Top Gun. "It's time we give our Ukrainian top guns the tools to finish the job. Ukraine needs F-16s now."

The post stated that fighters were needed not only for the good of Ukraine, but also to defend the "free world".

In another post, Ukraine invoked the words of the American civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to order jets beyond the F-16: The Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor and F-35 Lightning II, the Eurofighter Typhoon, Dassault Mirage 2000 and Saab JAS 39 Gripen. All are advanced multifunction or air superiority fighters, and the F-22 and F-35 are stealth fighters.

At the beginning of the Russia-Ukraine War, President Volodymyr Zelensky and other Ukrainian authorities made several appeals to Western states calling for warplanes to fight the Russian Air Force. However, Ukraine's armament with Western aircraft was seen as very provocative for the U.S. Critics of the proposals to transfer war planes noted the danger of an allied pilot being shot down while transporting the aircraft to Ukraine - which would attract NATO directly into the conflict.

Zelensky also called for the establishment of a NATO air no-free zone over Ukraine, which was also rejected for fears of attracting the U.S. and other nuclear powers to war.

MiG-29 and F-16 fighters from Poland.

A proposal from Poland for the U.S. to supplement its air force with new American planes and for Warsaw to send its Soviet-made MiG-29 to neighboring Ukraine was vetoed by the U.S. On Saturday, Slovakia signed an agreement with the Czech Republic and Poland that would cause its NATO companions to defend the country's skies, allowing Slovakian planes to be sent to Ukraine, Reuters reported.

Slovakia said it is ready to send the 11 MiG-29 fighters to Ukraine, but Slovakia's Defense Minister Jaroslav Nad said no deal has been signed yet. Bratislava is expected to receive a delivery in 2024 of fourteen F-16 fighters by an agreement signed in 2018.

Instead of transferring complete fuselages, the U.S. facilitated the transfer of aircraft parts to reform and return to service with damage and old Ukrainian Soviet aircraft, such as the oldest MiG series fighters. Washington also examined the possibility of training Ukrainian pilots.

While in mid-April the Pentagon's press secretary, John Kirby, said that Ukraine was receiving new warplanes from an unidentified source, he later withdrew that statement. However, the Washington Post reported at the end of July that the chief of staff of the U.S. Air Force, General CQ Brown Jr., had suggested that Western allies were still considering the possibility of transferring Swedish fighters Gripens, Eurofighters, French Rafale or even American jets.

Just over six months of war, Ukraine is coming to an end to its reserves of Soviet ammunition and equipment, and the U.S. has been trying to secure more Soviet weapons and also facilitate the change to standard NATO weapons.

Although Russia has more aircraft and more advanced models than Ukraine, air superiority over the state besieged so far has avoided the air forces of President Vladamir Putin. This is largely due to the constant supply of Western anti-aircraft systems, such as FIM-92 Stinger air-to-earth missiles.

"Russia hoped to destroy our aircraft in the early hours of the large-scale invasion. And, of course, this enemy had a completely insane goal, like many other goals," Zelensky said in a speech on Aviation Day, praising Ukrainian pilots and air force crew. "The Ukrainian Air Force has been preserved and, since the first day of the invasion, has been honorably carrying out combat missions."

Source: The Jerusalem Post

Tags: Military AviationF-16 Fighting FalconUkrainian Air ForceWar Zones - Russia/Ukraine

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. It has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[plant-flwrs]

Can I request a ilvermorny transfer x one of the twins? I think it'll be cool if she wore roller skates to school (charmed by yours truly) since it's the 90s and she's cool but super sweet and caring - maybe when they invite her over to the burrow for the summer or their birthday she can give them a pair? Thanks ily!!!

roller skates // fred weasley 

masterlist!

a/n: ok i always feel bad when my fics take so long to set up and theres barely any like actual romance and i am trying to work on it. i think its hard for me to go into a fic where a relationship is already established, so i like writing them coming together and the immersion of it. but i hate reading fics where it takes forever to get to the good parts so just know that i will be trying to work on that flaw in my writing! thanks so much for reading! (i made the reader from florida just because my mind blanked on any other places that don’t have snow lol, but it’s not really relevant in any other situations so ignore it if u please) also just realizing all of my summaries sound scary and ominous also just realizing how i say way too much in these author notes im so sorry bye

summary: The American transfer student draws attention to herself with her accent, but Fred is drawn to something else about her.

(10.4k hehe sorry :D)

-----

Looking around at the students bustling past you, the only word you could think of was “proper”.

Looking down at your muggle clothes, loose and mismatched, your hair resting naturally, the only word you could think to describe yourself with was “improper”.

A boy with a permanent scowl and striking blond hair glanced your way, and the taller adults behind him followed his eye line. The three of them looked you up and down and their mouths all distorted into nasty grimaces. You felt your father’s comforting hand clasp over your shoulder, trying to help you remember everything he had said to you before arriving at King Cross Station.

“They aren’t that different from us,” he repeated, and you could tell he was doubting himself as he glanced at the uptight children and their matching parents.

He guided you forwards, and you pushed your large cart in front of you, navigating through the crowd. It started to separate around you, and even more odd glances were thrown your way. You supposed you should have felt a little insecure- you looked quite out of place- but the feeling could not overwhelm the excitement you felt. You had read all about Hogwarts, its history, its architecture, and you even picked up a few books about muggle London.

You were stood in your father's embrace, about to board. Your things were stored away, and you heard the train roaring louder and louder. You glanced around, the fathers in their dress shirts and ties, mothers in long skirts and blouses. Their children wore sweaters and jeans, or suit jackets and dress pants.

Something caught your eyes, though; a few feet away there was a large family, mingling in embraces. They all had flaming red hair, and their clothes looked like yours. In fact, your clothes resembled the oldest woman’s clothes, mismatched and colorful. Her eyes watered, and she smoothed down the hair on a fidgeting boy.

“Ronald, hold still!” she shouted at him, and he reluctantly allowed his mother to soothe his red hair down into a part on the side.

Once the woman had moved onto another child, Ronald roughed his hair back to the mess it was before. The woman now clutched a smaller boy, who looked like he was Ronald’s age, by the shoulders. She moved a hand to soothe his unruly hair off his forehead. Your eyes widened when you saw the lightning bolt on his forehead.

The books you had bought about the English Wizarding World did not neglect to mention the boy who lived. Elbowing your father, you both cast glances at the family. Your father nodded his head, looking impressed at the sight of Harry Potter.

“Thanks again Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, and it sounded like he had said it millions of times before.

Mrs. Weasley waved off the two boys, who went to gather a girl with large bushy hair.

“Come on ‘Mione! We’ve got to get a good compartment,” Ronald said impatiently, tugging the girl's arm onto the train.

Mrs. Weasley was left with four other children. One of them looked like all the other proper British people you had seen at the station, a permanent sneer on his face. He shook his head stiffly at his mother and shook his father’s hand. You thought it was quite odd, and two identical boys standing with the family couldn’t contain their laughter.

“Yes,” one of them started, doubling over in a bow, “good day, mother,” he said pompously, imitating his brother.

“May you have a wonderful few months,” the other started, moving to shake his father’s hand as his brother had moments ago, “I’ll be looking for your owl,” he said, sounding incredibly posh.

The younger girl, with the same fiery hair, began to giggle, earning a scowl from the eldest brother as he boarded the train.

The girl pulled her mother in for a hug, and then her father, and waved to them fervently as she followed after her brother.

“You boys, stay out of trouble!” Mrs. Weasley said to the remaining twins, waving a finger at them.

“We always do, mum,” one said, and it was obvious by his tone that they didn’t often stay out of trouble.

They waved to their parents at the same time, stepping onto the train with a certain enthusiasm.

You averted your gaze, looking anywhere but at the family you had been staring at. You looked up at your father, hugging him one last time. When you pulled back, you heard his name being called.

“Mr. Y/n?” the voice called out, approaching the two of you.

It was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley already had his hand stuck out to your father.

“I’m Arthur Weasley, I’ve been the one to hire you at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. This is my wife, Molly. Funny to meet you here,” he said politely, looking at you and your father in a nicer way than any other wizard had during your time at the station. His eyes didn’t wander down to your brightly colored shoes, or your patterned pants, and he didn’t even cast a second glance at your oversized, offensively colored sweater. You beamed at him.

“Oh! Yes, it’s great to meet you,” your father said, shaking his hand. He squeezed your shoulder, jostling you a bit, “This is my daughter, Y/n.”

“Oh, would you hear that accent, Arthur!” Molly gasped, smiling as if she was astonished. Your father chuckled at her reaction. You supposed it would happen to you a lot at Hogwarts.

They both smiled at you, and Arthur offered you his hand to shake. You held your hand out, but the sleeve of your sweater swallowed the limb. You shook the extra clothing away, and Molly chuckled. Finally shaking his hand, you held it out to Molly. She bypassed your hand and began to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, accomplished, at you.

“Better get her going,” your father said, and the Weasleys nodded at you.

“Have a good term, dear,” Molly said to you, patting your shoulders the way she had done to Harry.

“Thank you,” you repeated, moving past them and heading onto the train.

You waved one last time at your father, and the door closed behind you.

You wandered down the isles, looking for an empty place to sit. You pretended to look like you knew where you were going, hoping fewer people would stare at you if you did. Your plan didn’t work, and you caught the eyes of almost everyone you passed.

You had made it to the end of the train, and your eyes peered into the last cabin. It was empty except for a girl and a boy. They seemed friendly enough, so you slid open the door.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?” you asked, and the boy looked at you quizzically when he heard your voice.

“Not at all,” the girl said.

She had strikingly blonde hair and gray eyes that poured deeply into you. She had a faint smile on her lips, and her head was cocked to the side.

“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, and her voice was light and airy, “This is Neville Longbottom.”

The boy shifted in his seat, casting a shy glance at you. He raised a shaky hand and gave you a curt wave.

You smiled widely at the two of them, glad you seemed to have picked the right place to sit.

The train ride went fast enough. Luna asked you all sorts of questions about America, and you asked her all sorts of questions about England. When Neville warmed up to you, he asked some questions about Ilvermorny. They asked what house you had been in there, and you told him you were a Thunderbird, the soul of the witch.

“Where do you reckon she’ll be sorted into here?” Neville asked Luna. You leaned forwards, curious for the answer.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, peering into a magazine she had balanced into her lap, “but if I’m lucky, it’ll be Ravenclaw.”

“Which one is Ravenclaw?” you asked, trying to remember what you had read.

“The wise and witty,” Luna said, moving her robes to show the crest on it. It was blue with a bird over it.

“A raven, clever,” you said, looking closer at Neville’s red-trimmed robes.

“You’d think,” he said, “but it’s an eagle. I’m a Gryffindor, we’re meant to be brave but,” he trailed off, and Luna placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“Oh, stop it, Neville,” she said gently, her gaze back onto you, “there's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

You nodded, recalling what little you read.

“My dad said he figured I would be a Hufflepuff. The Ministry told him he was a Ravenclaw, he had to do the silly sorting hat and everything,” you said, and Neville smiled at you.

“Hufflepuff? They’re quite nice, I suppose,” he said, sounding disappointed that you weren’t in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

“Well, we won’t know for sure,” Luna said, closing her magazine, “until-” but the train’s brakes began to screech.

Her smiled widened, and you looked down at your robes you had changed into. Maybe now people would be less inclined to stare, you thought.

You were right, but only briefly. Once you had gotten to the Great Hall, you were shuffled in with the first years. Your face burned a slight red the whole time, your larger and older stature standing out amongst the sea of younger students. Your name was called, and you heard a faint whooping coming from the table of red.

You glanced at it, seeing Neville lowering a cheering fist from the air. He looked around nervously, and you saw one of the Weasley twins glancing at his quizzically. You smiled at Neville’s support and sat in the stool.

An old and tattered hat was lowered onto your head, and suddenly it began speaking in your ear.

“Hm, very interesting. You’re not from here, that’s obvious,” it spoke quickly, echoing in your skull, “but I think the choice is simple. I’d say,”

Suddenly the voice left your skull and boomed into the room, for everyone to hear.

“Hufflepuff!”

Cheers from a table full of yellow sounded off, some raising from their seats and clapping for you. You beamed, moving off the stool and skipping cheerfully towards the table. You walked down the aisle between the red and yellow, and Neville’s hand stuck out at you.

“Congratulations!” he said excitedly, holding his hand up for a high five.

You hit his hand, and he waved you off.

A girl with a yellow tie and dark hair waved you over. She inched over, giving you room to sit with her.

“I’m Sarah, happy to have you in Hufflepuff!” she beamed, and you didn’t think you would ever get used to the British accents.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you watched her eyes widen at the sound of your voice, “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re American! You must have come from that American school, what’s it called, Ilmorny?” she asked, ducking her head and whispering as the sorting continued.

“Ilvemorny,” you corrected her, still smiling.

Sarah asked you a lot of the same questions Neville and Luna had asked, but you didn’t mind answering them. She had even offered to give you a tour of the school tomorrow, with the promise that you would choose the bed next to her’s in the dorm.

Sarah had lived up to her promise. You walked with your head permanently tilted upwards, admiring the greatness of the castle. Sarah ate with you at every meal and even insisted on walking you to your classes until you knew the way on your own. She had been so nice to you, and when Luna told you about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, you knew you had to ask her to go with you.

The two of you walked through the snow, wrapped up in matching yellow and black scarves. She had linked her arm with yours and pulled along to all her favorite shops.

The two of you ducked into The Three Broomsticks, sick of the ice sticking to your face.

You saw a red scarf and a blue scarf sitting at a table, and when you saw the flow of blonde hair peeking from the blue one, you knew who it was. You pulled Sarah over to Luna and Neville, and Neville told you to pull up two chairs. You introduced Sarah to Luna and Neville.

“We’re just waiting for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to meet us,” Neville said, smiling cheerfully.

“Oh, should we go?” you asked, offering to free up your chair.

“No, no, stay,” Luna urged you, pulling your arm back down, “I’ll introduce you.”

This was how you were going to meet Harry Potter, you thought, huddled up at a small table, drinking a foamy beverage that left a little white mustache on your upper lip.

Harry was just like every other kid, and he was with the people you had seen at the station that day.

“What did you say your last name was?” Ron asked, leaning over the table so you could hear him.

“Y/l/n,” you said.

“Does your dad work for the Ministry?” he asked, and you nodded, “Our dads work together!” he said, elbowing Harry.

“Her dad is the bloke my dad was raving about all summer, the guy from America,” Ron said to Harry, and Harry nodded at you.

“What a coincidence,” you said, dipping your head to take another sip of the drink Sarah had ordered you.

You all fell into a natural conversation, and Hermione asked to switch seats with Sarah at one point. Sarah had no protests, filing easily into the seat next to Harry, glancing at him dreamily.

“Will you tell me about America? I’ve been to other parts of Europe for holidays, but never America. What’s it like? How different are the wizards?" Hermione sounded off questions like she had them rehearsed, but you were happy to answer them.

You and she were in a fit of laughter after she had told you about her parents’ reaction to her letter. Your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, as Hermione recounted her mother’s jumping up and down.

You were so involved with your conversation with Hermione, you hadn’t noticed Ron’s brothers come into the restaurant.

“Hello, Ickle Ronniekins,” one of them teased, messing a hand through Ron’s overgrown hair, “when are you gettin’ a hair cut?”

“Mum’s gonna cut it all off the second you get home,” the other said, pulling a chair in between Luna and Ron. The other pulled a chair in between Harry and Sarah, and you didn’t miss Sarah’s annoyed sigh at the interruption.

You and Hermione were recovering from your laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing heavily.

“What’s so funny ladies?” one of them said, shoving Ron aside so he could rest his elbows on the table.

“Just telling Y/n about how my parents reacted to my letter from Hogwarts,” Hermione sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You’re the famous Y/n?”

“The American?”

Ron elbowed each of his brothers in their sides, frowning at them.

“That’s me,” you answered cheerfully, smiling at them, “Are you Ron’s brothers?”

“More like,” one of them started.

“Best friends,” the other finished.

“He really would be nowhere if it weren’t for us,” they said at the same time.

A smile slid across your face; it was easy to smile around your new friends, you found.

Hogwarts was better than you could have ever hoped. You wrote to your father nearly every week, recounting the amazing things you had done with Sarah, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The seven of you were becoming inseparable.

Luna’s blue tie dangled over your face as you lay on her lap, she was trying this odd head charm she had read about in the Quibbler. Your head rested in between her legs, back on the ground. Her skinny fingers were pressed to your temple, and they hesitantly pressed into your skin.

“Is that right?” she asked, consulting the cartoon pictures that moved on the Quibbler laying next to her.

“I don’t reckon, it doesn’t feel like anything’s happening,” you said, sitting up and rubbing where Luna’s fingers had been.

“Neville,” Luna said, motioning him over. His face grew white as she pulled him into him, moving to where you had been. Luna’s fingers pressed against Neville’s head, and his eyes fluttered closed. Luna began to hum to herself, and Neville smiled.

You crawled over to sit by Ron under the tree. Sarah was talking to Harry, her eyes dazed over as he gently brushed off a leaf that had fallen on her shoulder. Hermione was near, her head resting on her bag, laying on her back with his legs crossed. She was deep into a muggle book you recognized, and you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to put it down.

“Hi, Ron,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, ending his obvious staring at Hermione, “enjoying the weather?”

“Yeah, it’s just about my favorite time of year,” he said, twisting a blade of grass in his fingers.

The snow had melted, winter break had ended. Ron was able to shed his mother's heavy knitted sweaters and wear some of his more comfortable shirts.

“I quite liked the winter,” you said, your head leaning against the tree, “it was my first time seeing snow.”

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Ron asked, seeming bewildered.

“Don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling at him.

“Hermione! Oi, Hermione! Y/n had never seen snow before she came here,” Ron said, calling out to Hermione.

“I know, she’s from Florida,” Hermione said, uninterested, head still buried in her book.

“Florida? Why didn’t I know that?” Ron asked, feeling out of the loop.

“Don’t know,” you repeated, shrugging again.

“Because you don’t ask, Ron,” Hermione said, sounding unpleased with Ron’s loud volume.

You stifled a laugh, but Ron looked at you, feeling guilty.

“Hermione’s right, I guess,” Ron said, casting a sad glance at you.

“It’s alight, Ron, I won’t hold it against you,” you reassured, and Ron perked up a little.

“Tell me one thing no one else here knows about you,” Ron said urgently. To this, Hermione closed her book and lay it on her chest, interested in what you were going to say.

You thought about it. You didn’t have anything to hide from your friends, but you felt yourself blanking on even the littlest fact about yourself. You tried to think of any special abilities you had, besides being a wizard, or any life events that were significant. The only thing you thought of was the hesitance you had when packing your trunk for school, debating on whether or not to bring your roller skates with you. Ilvermorny had allowed them, and you skated to nearly all your classes. The school's cold granite floors were just begging to be skated across, you had thought, and it was ten times faster than walking.

You thought about your skates, you missed them more than you thought you would. The white boots with slick, black wheels and rainbow laces were one of your most prized possessions. You wondered now, again, if you would have gotten in trouble for bringing your roller skates to school.

“Oh, alright, I’ve thought of something,” you began, and Hermione sat up a little, resting on her elbows.

“I really like to roller skate,” you said proudly.

“Roller skate?” Hermione and Ron repeated at the same time. Ron sounded confused, but Hermione sounded entertained.

“Yeah.”

“Like from the 80′s?” Hermione asked, still sounding entertained.

“They’re making a comeback,” you defended.

“What’s roller skate?” Ron asked, looking between you and Hermione.

“It’s like shoes with wheels on them,” Hermione said, used to having to explain muggle inventions her friend, “You tie them up and you skate around.”

“What do you do that for? Do they go really fast?” Ron asked.

“They can,” you said, “but it’s really just for fun. I used to take them with me to Ilvermorny and go to my classes on them, but I didn't know if Hogwarts allowed them.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Ron asked, “Are they dangerous?”

“They're not dangerous, I suppose you could fall on them, but it’s not as bad as that Quidditch game you guys play,” you explained, “I just didn’t know if Hogwarts allowed those kinds of muggle things.”

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Hermione looked to be in deep thought.

“I’m sure they would,” she said, returning back to her book.

“What do you reckon they’re doing down there?” Fred asked, looming over George’s shoulder as he held the Marauder’s Map in his hands.

“Do you think Ron’s finally gonna get a girlfriend?” George teased, looking at you and Ron sitting together under the tree.

Fred sneered at his brother. Ever since he had told George he thought you were cute, it seemed George wanted to push his buttons any way he could. He would make jokes about you and Ron flirting, and for some reason it made his blood boil. He hadn’t even spoken to you on more instances than he could count on a hand, but he was enticed by you.

Your eyes were always moving, and they were always wide with excitement. He thought you were beautiful, you were always wearing your muggle clothes when you didn’t have to wear your uniform. You dressed kind of like his mum, he realized one day, but in a cooler way. That’s the word, cool, he thought you were cool. You fit in easily with Ron’s friends, you could talk about anything, and you were always so sweet.

“Where are they going now?” George wondered out loud, watching the names on the map begin to move.

You got up and dusted off your pants, feeling the baggy jean material under your fingers. You helped Ron up, offering him a hand and pulling him off the ground. You, Ron, and Hermione trailed after Harry and Sarah, who trailed after Neville and Luna. You had all been feeling a bit warm outside, so you decided to go to the Gryffindor common room for the rest of the afternoon. You and Sarah were always excited to go to the Gryffindor common room, feeling it was a nice change from yours in the basement.

Fred’s eyes watched as you, Ron, and Hermione walked together towards the Gryffindor common room. He suddenly felt nervous, even though he was up in his dorm with George. He stood, and looked at himself in the mirror. He pulled down at the bottom of his shirt, tugging uncomfortably at the way it clung to his arms. He hadn’t been dressed to impress, and he usually didn’t, but at the sight of your name getting closer to his on the map, he ignored George’s torments and changed into nicer pants and a more flattering shirt.

Harry stepped passed Neville, who had forgotten the password, and held open the portrait for everyone as they stepped through. You, Sarah, Luna, and Hermione occupied the biggest couch in front of the fire, and Neville and Ron took the armchairs on either side of you. Harry sat on the floor in between Ron’s chair and where Sarah had sunk into the corner of the couch.

Sarah beamed at you, taking notice of the small action, and you wiggled your eyebrows back at her. She blushed and leaned over the side of the couch, resting her chin in her hand and starting a conversation with Harry.

Hermione pulled her book from her bag again, reading the pages eagerly. You and Luna sat shoulder to shoulder as Luna began to tell you about her plans for the summer.

“I think I’ll try to learn French,” she said, toying with some sunglasses she pulled from her pocket.

“You’re going to learn French?” you repeated, a smile pulling up your lips.

“I think so, might also help my dad with his plums,” Luna said, turning to you as she slipped on the sunglasses. They overcame her face, entirely oversized and wonderful. They were bright green and had purple lenses that were reflective. You could see your wide and amused smile in them.

“Your father grows plums?” you inquired, always enjoying conversation with Luna.

“Yes, they’re Dirigible Plums.”

“What are those?”

Luna pulled her hair back and showed you a pair of earrings she wore. They looked like little orange balloons, but leaves hung from them.

“Oh, those are very pretty, Luna,” you said, admiring them.

“My dad says they make you wiser,” she explained, “so he grows them in his garden.”

“And you wear them as earrings,” you said, smiling at her.

“Yes,” she nodded and gave you a crooked grin.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Luna asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. My father will be working, so I’ll probably be home all day,” you said, feeling a little lonely already, “I’ll have my roller skates though.”

Luna looked at you, confused, but you were more talking to Ron anyways, who you noticed was listening to your conversation.

“You should come to the Burrow this summer! Everyone does, even for just for a week,” Ron said, standing and moving over to sit on the coffee table in front of you.

“That sounds cool, I’d love to,” you said, grinning at Ron.

You looked around you and felt so lucky, lucky to have found such kind and accepting people at your new school.

Pacing upstairs, Fred smoothed down his hair before ruffling it again and then smoothing it. He knew you were downstairs, and he knew he wanted to talk to you, but you just made him so nervous. He never gets nervous.

George sat with his elbows on his knees, eyebrows raised, watching his brother obviously losing his mind.

“Just go down and talk to her,” he said, a little afraid his brother might explode, “you’re gonna wear a hole in the ground.”

Fred stopped where he stood, near the door. He sighed heavily and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard, “I’ll just go talk to her.”

Fred recalled the day he had formally met you at the Three Broomsticks. He was smooth, able to mask the way your curious gaze had made his stomach flutter. He couldn’t very well go down there and make a fool of himself, could he?

“Oi Fred!” he heard Lee call from where he stood near Harry, which was also near you, “Come over here a minute.”

Fred sauntered over, forcing himself not to stare at you.

Hermione had put down her book, and Luna had left to go to her own common room to do some homework. You and Hermione sat cross-legged facing each other, playing a muggle card game.

“Yeah?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the banister of the fireplace.

Harry and Lee sat at two wooden chairs near the fireplace, only a few feet away from the couch you were on. This angle allowed him to watch you as your head threw back in laughter as Hermione scowled at her losing the game. His eyes easily flickered back to Lee, who pulled him into the conversation he and Harry were having about Quidditch.

Ginny walked through the portrait hole, returning from some Quidditch training she had been doing. Ginny was taking Quidditch very seriously this year and had taken to exercising on the pitch with Angelina every weekend.

“Ginny!” Ron called out to her, putting down the newspaper he was reading. He waved her over with a hurried hand.

“What?” she said, plopping down on the empty space next to Hermione, “What game are you guys playing?”

You looked up from the deck of cards you had begun to shuffle as Hermione told her.

“Ginny,” Ron said again, pulling his sister’s attention back to him.

“Hm?” she said, and it was very obvious she was tired from her day's activities.

“Have you asked anyone over for the summer yet?” Ron asked, and his eyes flicked to you, “I just invited Y/n, so I don’t want it getting too crowded.”

Ginny looked over to you, her gaze becoming analytical. You raised a hand to wave and cast her a kind smile, and she returned it.

“I don’t have anything planned, it should be fine,” Ginny turned away from Ron and back towards you and Hermione, “When are you lot coming? At the same time?”

You looked towards Hermione, not knowing the answer.

“Oh, I didn’t have any specific ideas yet, Ron’s just asked me. Still have to write to my dad,” you said, and Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be the usual time for me, though,” Hermione said, and Ginny smiled.

“What’s the usual time?” you asked, beginning to deal the cards to you and Hermione.

“A few weeks before school starts, Mrs. Weasley takes us all to Diagon Alley for our school things,” Hermione said, speaking fondly of the memory.

“Should I ask my dad to come then, when Hermione does?” you looked towards Ron, “Unless I should come at a different time,” you said, not trying to intrude.

“That would be perfect! Harry comes ‘round that time too, so we’ll all see each other,” Ron said.

He looked over at Harry, and upon seeing his brother, he called Fred over the way he had done to Ginny.

“Fred, have you invited anyone home for summer yet?”

Fred’s gaze immediately went to you, and he found you looking at him too.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and over to Ron.

“Who?” Ron said, curious because his brothers usually didn’t have people over to the Burrow during holidays.

“George,” he said, smirking.

“Git,” Ron mumbled under his breath.

“Why do you ask, Ickle Ronniekins?”

“I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get too crowded when Hermione, Harry, and Y/n come ‘round,” Ron said, squirming as Fred forced himself into Ron’s seat that was only big enough for one of them.

Fred’s cool demeanor dropped for a moment, his eyes widening. He quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around Ron.

“How considerate of you,” he said, giving his brother an unwanted side hug.

Ron got up from his seat, leaving Fred to sit by himself. He watched you with unblinking eyes as you listened to Ginny talk about her time with Angelina on the pitch.

Looking down at your packed to the brim suitcase, you glance to the corner of your room. Your pristine roller skates sat there, one on their side. They looked sad and forgotten, but you knew that wasn’t true. Ever since you had gotten home from Hogwarts, you had taken to skating around ‘muggle’ London. You had also just gotten used to saying ‘muggle’.

Your father left early and got home late, and part of you was jealous that he got to see a Weasley every day and you didn’t. To ease your envy, you took to your skates.

You weren’t sure if you should pack them with you for Ron’s house. You were leaving when your father got home for work, the two of you setting off just before dark. You shoved a sweater deeper into your bag, making room for the skates.

Your father was to eat dinner with the Weasleys, sleep on the couch, and set off with Mr. Weasley for work in the morning. No point in two trips, they figured.

You were traveling by Flu powder, and your father went first. He heaved your bag into the fireplace with him and erupted in green flames. You carried a backpack on your shoulder, filled with little things that couldn’t fit in your suitcase.

Fred was more nervous and excited than he had ever felt in his whole life. He was determined to chat you up this summer, at least do something to make sure you knew he existed. He had been pacing in he and George’s shared room, but George pulled him down to the kitchen and made him drink some tea, hoping to calm him down.

You twisted your fingers, looking nervously into the fireplace. You were extremely excited to spend the remaining weeks of your summer with the Weasleys, but a small part of you was scared. You were nervous that Ron’s parents wouldn’t like you as much as they did at the train station. You were nervous that Ron, and his siblings, would get sick of having you around. You were nervous that you would become a burden.

You had been writing with Hermione, and she ensured you of how kind the Weasleys were. She told you that you had nothing to worry about, and you felt a little relieved.

You had visited Sarah a couple of times during the summer. She lived fairly close, close enough for you to take muggle transportation. Her family was welcoming and all had wide eyes at your accent. Thinking of their kindness, you felt confident enough to finally step into the fireplace.

Green flames surrounded you, and within seconds, you were stood in a different fireplace. It was a little shorter, and you were glad you had hunched over a little. Mr. Weasley and your father were shaking hands off to the side, over by a large couch. Mrs. Weasley was looking into the fireplace and waving you out. Ron was trudging your suitcase upstairs already, and Hermione and Ginny stood by Mrs. Weasley smiling widely. You noticed Fred and George sat at a large wooden table near the kitchen both drinking some tea and eating.

You took a step from the fireplace, making sure to wipe off any ash that may have stained your clothes, and allowed Mrs. Weasley to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, so good to see you again, dear!” she said, rocking you back and forth in the suffocating hug.

You didn’t care if you couldn’t breathe, you decided at that moment that Molly Weasley gave the absolute best hugs. She released you, patting your shoulders and running a loving hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You beamed at her, and she smiled back at you.

When she moved away, Hermione quickly replaced her. Hermione’s arms pulled you close, wrapping around your backpack.

“I missed you!” she said, smiling at you.

“I missed you too!” you said, nearly ‘awing’ at everyone’s kindness.

Ginny hugged you too, and when you stepped away, Ron had come back downstairs. You hugged him, and then Harry, and finally you were left to be able to breathe your own air.

The house around you was adorable. It was better than you could have ever imagined. Magic was everywhere, and everything just felt like home.

“You’ll be staying with me and Ginny,” Hermione said to you from her spot next to you at the table.

“Perfect,” you replied, the same awestruck smile plastered on your face since you had arrived.

Fred looked at you from across the table. He felt like his dinner was moving in his stomach, and his hands were sweating. He’d nearly dropped his fork three times. He breathed deep, and when the conversation lulled, he took his chance.

“How has your summer been, Y/n?” he asked, and you looked up from your plate to him.

He nearly died, your happy eyes looking at him.

“Great!” you said, wiping your hands on your napkin in your lap, “I’m glad to finally be here.”

He smiled back at you, and it took him a moment to realize he’d been staring for a little too long, and that you had asked him a question.

“My summer? Oh, my summer’s been good too,” he replied, nodding.

You looked to George, who was next to him and raised your eyebrows, inviting his answer.

“It’s been good,” he said casually, and then an evil grin spread across his face, “but I think Fred’s just about worn my ear off talking about you.”

Fred coughed, choking on his mashed potatoes. His face went red, and he looked at his twin with an anger George had never seen before. Fred quickly looked back at you, as if to gauge your reaction. Your head was tilted down, but a shy smile was on your face and a blush crept on your cheeks.

Fred’s anger subsided at the sight of it, but when George kicked him from under the table, he was reminded.

“What is wrong with you?” Fred asked, nearly yelling at his brother in the privacy of their own room.

“I gave you a push,” George answered, not looking up from the Zonko’s catalog in his hands.

Fred simmered, coming to the realization that George was right. He fell onto his bed, thinking back to the pink on your cheeks and the bashful curl of your lips.

He didn’t know how he was meant to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that you were asleep just a room away.

“Did you hear what George said to Y/n at dinner?” Hermione asked, pulling Ginny into the argument you were having once she got out of the shower.

Ginny shook her head, removing the towel from her hair, “No, what’d he say?”

You rolled your eyes at Hermione as she divulged into every little detail of what George had said.

“And Fred could not stop staring!” she finished, and you let out an exaggerated breath.

“He was not staring!”

“Yes, he was,” Ginny said cheekily, sitting down on her bed.

“Ginny!” you said, giving up hope of having her on your side.

“He totally fancies you,” Hermione said.

Your face twisted for two reasons: the word ‘fancies’, and the fact that she thought Fred Weasley might fancy you.

“He does not!”

Ginny sat on her bed, listening to you and Hermione go back and forth. She knew Fred fancied you, he had since they had been at school. She saw his longing looks, the way he looked at you first after he told a joke, and the pure admiration he had in his eyes any time he looked at you. It especially convinced her when Fred had been talking about you all summer. She came to a decision.

“He does,” she said, watching Hermione’s face change into the proud one she wore when she answered a question right in class. Your mouth hung open.

“What?” Hermione’s gaze turned towards you, and she smiled widely. You liked to think it was her infectious smile that made your mouth turn up, and not the idea of Fred liking you.

“He has been talking about you all summer, I’m surprised Ron didn’t tell you earlier,” Ginny said, bringing the towel to her hair again to catch some dripping water.

“He probably hasn’t even noticed,” Hermione said, the tone of annoyance dripping off her tongue.

Ginny flashed her a sympathetic look, but Hermione ignored it, continuing.

“Do you like him?” she pried, and the whole room felt like it was frozen.

They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

You didn’t know. Fred was handsome, and funny, and clever, but you hardly knew him. You knew he was mischievous, and that he tormented Ron, but other than that you might as well have been strangers. You could not deny, however, that he was attractive.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly.

“You don’t know?” Ginny repeated, confused.

“Yeah, I mean, I barely know him,” you answered, the obvious energy in the room shifting to something of deep thought.

“Do you fancy him, though?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

“I think he’s cute, yeah, but how can he fancy me? We’ve barely spoken to each other. Are you sure Ginny?” you asked again, still doubtful.

“I’m sure he’s noticed the little things more than you think he would, Fred can be pretty considerate when he wants to be,” Ginny said, and you breathed out loudly. You flopped on your back, the mound of blankets around you and Hermione soothing your landing.

“See? I wouldn’t know that!” you said.

You knew it was a little silly, to focus on something like this. You had an older, attractive, popular boy head over heels for you, but you were harping on the fact that you didn’t know whether or not he was considerate.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hermione said harshly, “I mean it’s not like you’re forced to marry him. You go on dates with people to get to know them, after all.”

You were nearly offended by Hermione’s tone, but you figured she was just getting irritated on the subject of crushes.

“I know, ‘Mione, I’m just confused by it,” you reassured her.

“Well, test the waters tomorrow,” Ginny said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You cringed away from her, and swells of giggles were coming from Ginny’s room nearly all night.

The three of you slept late into the morning. The Burrow’s eventful noises were nothing compared to the sounds of muggle London, so you slept peacefully. It wasn’t until something began tapping on Ginny’s window, did the three of you wake up.

“What the-?” Ginny started but soon fell silent at the sound of a loud crashing noise. Shards of glass scattered around the room and Hermione was lucky that she had rolled away from the window in her sleep. You put your hand up, flinching at the noise, and when you dropped it, the warm summer air flooded into the room.

A small golden snitch was soaring around the room, averting every swipe of Ginny’s hands, and ducking behind her dresser.

Ginny slipped on some shoes, and carefully navigated through the glass. She leaned cautiously out of the window, and that's when the screaming started.

“Harry! Are you mental?! What on Earth-” her screams divulged into threats and insults, and you looked over her shoulder, watching Harry hover many feet away on his broom, his face looking quite guilty.

You found your shoes and moved over to the window. You then realized that Fred and George were hovering closer to Ginny’s window, silencing the snickers and amazed faces they wore. At the sight of Fred, your eyes widened, and his eyes met yours. He smiled kindly at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you ducked behind the window, crouching by Ginny’s feet.

You heard George’s laughter, and Ginny’s ramblings stilled.

“What are you doing on the floor?” she asked you, lowering herself to crouch with you.

“I don’t know,” you answered, whispering. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were wide. Ginny’s threatening look turned into a smile.

She began to giggle, and soon enough, Fred and George hovered just above the window, peering into Ginny’s room.

“What are you girls doing down there?” George asked, resting a hand on the part of the windowsill with no glass on it, peering into the room.

Ginny looked at you, her smile wide. You looked around and began to pick up large shards of glass.

“Cleaning up the glass,” you said casually, although you could still feel the distinct burn of blush on your cheeks.

You could only safely pick up two large shards of glass without cutting your hands, so you raised yourself from the ground, meeting Fred and George’s eyes. Ginny followed you, crossing her arms and smirking.

The boys wore their practice robes, their names and numbers on the backs. They both had discarded goggles hanging from their necks, and their hair was wild. You looked between the both of them, swallowing thickly.

“Could you keep it down?” Ginny finally said, trying to ease the situation, “We’re trying to sleep.”

George removed a hand from his broom and glanced at his watch, “It’s nearly 12 in the afternoon,” he said sarcastically.

“Really? Well, we need our beauty sleep,” Ginny said, and you noticed she nearly reached out to close the window.

George rolled his eyes and zipped away on his broom, leaving Fred.

“I’m gonna go get a broom, clean this up,” Ginny said, huffing as she navigated her way back through the glass on the floor.

You and Fred were left there, staring at anything but each other. Fred moved slightly up and down on his broom as he hovered. He finally cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Sleep well?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

You nodded and smiled, rocking back and forth on your feet, “You?”

He nodded too and looked away quickly.

“Oh, I think George, is calling me,” he said, and it was obvious George was not calling him. He flew away on his broom, and you closed your eyes, letting out a restrained breath.

You groaned and threw yourself on Ginny’s bed. Hermione rolled over, a large and entertained grin on her face. You covered your face with a pillow and ignored Ginny and Hermione’s imitations of the incident while they swept up the glass.

Mrs. Weasley was furious to see Ginny’s window. She had come in later in the day, a basket full of laundry on her hip.

“Hello girls,” she said pleasantly, “Do you have- what the bloody hell is that?”

Ginny’s eyes widened at the sound of her mother’s deep and serious tone.

“Mum! It wasn’t us,” Ginny leaped from her bed and ran to her dresser, she quickly caught the snitch from where it had been hiding behind her dresser, “It came through the window this morning when the boys were playing.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at you and Hermione, and you both nodded your heads furiously. She huffed out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

Finally looking up, she set the laundry down and stood in Ginny’s doorway.

“BOYS!” she shouted, and you heard the sudden halting of George and Fred’s laughter, and Harry and Ron’s footsteps upstairs silenced.

The sound of four hesitant feet walking to Ginny’s room was the last thing you heard before Mrs. Weasley’s screams burst your eardrums.

The Burrow was crowded now that the boys had been banned from leaving the house. They had only briefly been allowed out of the house to de-gnome the garden, but Mrs. Weasley stood at the door, making sure they had absolutely no fun.

Your suitcase lay open in Ginny’s room, the three of you dressed and having absolutely no ideas as to what to do. You had all already ran through your spending money going to Diagon Alley on your first days there, and without the boys offering some entertainment, the three of you were idle.

Ginny paced, looking through her own things with interest. She twisted her broom in her hands, offering the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione wasn’t interested. Ginny was scanning her room, and her eyes fell on your bag. A pair of white shoes with wheels on them lay tucked away in the bag. She walked over to them and pulled them out hesitantly.

“What the bloody hell are those?” George said from the doorway.

The three of you girls turned, looking to the door. The four boys crowded in the hall, all peering into the room with interest. It seemed they were bored too.

“Are those the roll skates?” Ron asked, mispronouncing the word and shoving past George and taking the roller skate from Ginny.

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes flicking up over the top of your magazine.

The rest of the boys filed into the tiny room, nearly all of them shoulder to shoulder. Hermione rose from her spot next to you, picking up the other one from your bag.

“I remember seeing commercials for these things when I was a kid,” Hermione said, spinning the wheel in her hand.

“Commercials? What are you on about?” Ron said, and Harry caught your baffled look and smiled.

“What are they?” Fred asked, taking Hermione’s seat next to you on Ginny’s bed.

You lowered your magazine and looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. He gave you a crooked smile and nodded in greeting. You successfully fought a blush and smiled back at him.

“They’re roller skates. They’re like shoes with wheels,” you explained, taking the skate from Ron.

You rolled up your jeans a little and slipped on the skate. Fred watched your delicate fingers lacing up the shoe, noticing the way your hair fell into your face as you looked down at them.

Hermione handed you the other one, and you did the same to the other foot. You stood easily from the bed and nearly lost your balance. It was lucky that Fred’s strong shoulder was there for your hand to clasp onto, or else your feet would have slipped from under you.

You looked down at your hand still on Fred’s shoulder, even though you were standing fine. He slipped your hand off but kept it in his hand. You then became aware that you were just holding hands at this point. He stood with you and turned to face you. He pulled your other hand into his, and pushed you away from him, smiling widely as you rolled easily on the hardwood floors.

Everyone knew then that they had found their entertainment for the day.

The sound of joyful laughter flooded your ears as Fred pulled you around the limited space in Ginny’s room. Your hands fit together perfectly, and he walked backward as he pulled you, keeping his smiling eyes on you the whole time. Soon he was pulling you into the hallway, and everyone trailed after. You felt Ginny’s small hands pushing your back, and you began to gain speed. Fred hadn’t caught up, and you were coming closer and closer to him. You looked down but didn’t want to put your toes down to brake, in fear of scuffing up the floor. So, you let yourself fall into Fred’s arms.

The two of you stayed upright, but his long arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands fell to his chest, and his chin pressed against his neck as he looked down at you. His hair fell into his eyes, and yours fell gracefully in its natural place. You smiled, and he smiled, and soon you erupted into giggles at the silence behind you. George catcalled, and you stuffed your giggles into Fred’s chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt him take a sharp inhale, and his arms became a little tighter around you.

When Mr. Weasley got home, he was accosted by his children.

“Dad!” They said in unison, all waiting for him by the door.

He jumped at the sight of them all, then began taking off his coat.

“Look at these!” Ginny said, pointing to your feet.

You did a little spin, careful not to make any marks on the floor. Fred watched you spin elegantly, your arms coming out a little like a ballerina.

“Remarkable!” Mr. Wealsey cried, moving to look at them.

Questions came from his mouth faster then you could answer them, and you slid the wheels against the floor under the table while you ate dinner.

“We had an idea, Dad,” Fred said, looking at you proudly.

“Yeah, think you’ll like it,” George added, glancing at you with a smirk and then looking back at his dad.

“We need you to conjure some sort of track outside,” Ron finished, talking with his mouth full.

“A track! That’s brilliant!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, missing the worried look from his wife.

“It was Y/n’s idea, she’s brilliant,” Fred said, looking across the table at you.

You giggled as George made a gagging noise.

“With what? Stone?” Mrs. Weasley inquired, placing a hand on her hip.

“Oh no, they’re usually made of wood or asphalt,” you explained, “they have a whole building of them in the muggle world. People rent the skates and pay to skate on a big rink.”

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened with excitement, and Mrs. Weasley’s worry tamed.

“Let’s do it tonight.”

The eight of you walked to a clearing on the side of the house. It was where the boys usually played Quidditch, but it hadn’t been in use for days. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t stopped the boys from helping with the track, and you were grateful.

“Hold it higher, Ron!” Mr. Weasley called out, and Ron raised his father's wand with a bright orb of light coming from it.

The track was nearly done. It was huge, a large hoop secured to the ground. There was an enchanted orb of light in the center of the circle, and it illuminated the entire rink.

Your friends watched you blaze around the track, your hair whipping around behind your face, the sides of your cardigan flapping in the wind. You heard loud cheers when you successfully began skating backward.

The rest of your trip to The Burrow was spent out there. The boys were lifted from their punishments, and the rink became the one place you all went to when you woke up, and the last place you were before bed. Soon enough, though, your father appeared in the fireplace with your school trunk by his side. He quickly took back the bag you had been keeping at the Weasley's, and you went through your trunk one last time, making sure you had everything.

This year, walking through the train station, you were still stared at. But you didn’t care because an entire family surrounding you, and they all looked like you.

Your father gave you a lasting embrace before Fred followed you onto the train. He had waited for you, watching as you hugged your dad. He waved to your father, and his hand grazed your lower back as he walked behind you. The two of you found the compartment that had to be the most crowded of the lot.

Lee, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sarah, George, and now you and Fred, packed into a compartment, the entire room filled with busy conversation the entire ride.

It was weird to be in the Hufflepuff common room, your bedroom devoid of Ginny’s huffs as she rolled over to get comfortable, or Hermione’s anxious mumbles she said in her sleep. You pulled your blankets off of you, your legs feeling sore from the constant skating you had been doing for weeks.

Speaking of, you had made the decision to bring your skates to Hogwarts. You slipped them on, tightening the rainbow laces. You pointed your wand at the wheels and cast a silencing charm, so the turn of the wheels would be silent.

You carefully climbed the stairs from the Hufflepuff basement and looked both ways before you skated towards your destination.

Fred had been sitting under his covers, looking over the map as he usually did before he snuck to the kitchens. Out of habit, he looked at the Hufflepuff common room for your familiar name. He was shocked to see you across the castle, in a long-abandoned classroom. He suddenly lost his appetite and slid into some slippers.

He rested his forearm in the crook of the door, leaning against it. He watched you illuminated by the candles lit on the wall. You easily glided between the desks, twisting and turning, spinning, and navigating between them. His eyes followed you, your body moving naturally. He watched the sway of your hips as your wait transferred from foot to foot, the skates rolling against the smooth stone. You moved to the open space in the room, skating backward, your back to him. You turned just a few feet in front of him, and when you saw Fred, your surprise ran through your body. Your feet faltered and you bumped into a desk, making a loud crash.

He jumped from his spot in the doorway, closing the door behind him. He moved to you in two long strides, crouching to reach you on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

“You scared the shit out of me, Fred!” you said, smiling up at him.

“Couldn’t help it, I had to come see you,” he said smoothly, bringing the map from his back pocket.

“What? How did you know I was here?”

He unfolded a piece of paper and held it out to you. You took it in your hands and realized what it was. Before you could look at it for long, Fred took it back, a worried expression on his face.

“Filch is coming, he must have heard the noise,” Fred folded the map and put it back in his pocket.

Suddenly, his hands were on your waist, and he was guiding you to your feet. He looked around the room and saw the door to the supply closet.

With a wave of his wand, the flames of the candles were extinguished and he was pulling your gliding figure to the closet. The door closed just in time, and Filch burst in. You and Fred were pressed together, his hands still on your waist. You opened your mouth to ask him about the map, and one of his hands covered your mouth. He felt your soft lips, and his eyes locked onto yours. You heard Filch’s heavy feet stomping around the room and the screech of the desk against the floor.

Your mind was occupied by the lack of space between you, your back pressed to the door, and Fred’s warm hand on your face. He looked deeply at you, and his face was inches from yours.

You thought back to the day Ginny told you about how Fred felt, and you realized that you no longer had any hesitations about Fred. Standing this close to him, his leg slid between yours, his chest against yours, you felt what he felt. You fancied Fred.

Fred felt your lips curl into a smile beneath his hand. It was dark, so he couldn’t see your face, but he wished more than anything that he could. He heard the door close, and Filch was gone, but neither of you moved. Fred’s hand retracted from your mouth, moving to your neck. His fingers slipped under your hair, and his thumb rested in your jaw.

“Why did you come here?” you whispered.

“I like to watch you skate,” he answered, his voice devoid of any laughter.

“You’ve watched me skate for weeks,” you said quickly, inching your face closer to his, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I like to watch you,” he said without thinking, “I like you.”

You closed the space between you two. His lips were slow, and so were yours. You arched your back against the door, anything to get closer to him. His face was warm, and yours was cold. His lips pressed hard against yours, and the kiss held everything he had felt since he talked to you in the Three Broomsticks. It was all the nights he had ranted to George about you, all the times he had mentioned what little time it was until you’d finally be at The Burrow, all the times he looked at the map just to see your name, all the times his stomach had flipped just at the thought of you.

You pulled away, breathless, and he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder. His breathing was heavy, and your eyes had fluttered closed. He reached for his wand and said “Lumos,” just so he could see your pretty face and swollen lips.

He walked you back to the basement, and you shared another slow kiss. He had almost followed you down the stairs, watching you leave with your skates hanging from around your neck.

The next morning in the courtyard, Ginny was the first to notice.

“What happened?” she said, skeptical of your dazed face and the constant flush you had from just being near Fred.

He sat a few feet away in his own world, avoiding George and Lee’s conversation about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip.

You smiled at Ginny, and she furrowed her brows at you. You were about to tell her, but Ron fell with a thud onto the ground next to you.

“It’s been three bloody weeks and Snape’s already assigned 100 pages of reading,” Ron groaned, pulling a heavy textbook from under his arm. Hermione and Harry trailed behind him, sitting with much more grace than Ron had.

Hermione also noticed your at peace look and looked at you analytically.

You were finally able to tell them in the hall, during an extended period between classes.

“He kissed me last night,” you said with a blush.

“I told you!”

“Finally!”

You hushed them, a bashful smile coming to your lips. Fred passed the three of you, his eyes locked on yours as he walked. Over his shoulder, he sent you a flirty wink. You felt weak at the knees and was glad that you were leaning against a wall.

“Maybe he’ll ask you to Hogsmeade,” Hermione said, tugging you off the wall and in the opposite way Fred was walking. You looked over your shoulder to see him walking backward, watching you walk away.

“Knowing Fred, he’ll probably pull some elaborate prank or get fireworks to spell your name out,” Ginny said, watching you look at her brother.

Fred did something like that, the two of you in the courtyard, laying in the grass. He had pulled you from dinner just after you were dismissed, and he led you to the courtyard. You both stared at the sky, and he looked at you. You met his gaze and then he pointed at the sky.

In huge, shining, red words read “Y/n, Hogsmeade this weekend?”.

You smiled at him and nodded. His hand snaked to cup your cheek still laying down. He pulled you towards him, and you moved to look down at him, propped up on your elbow. His lips met yours, and the sound of more bursting fireworks flooded the air around you.

It was nearly Christmas now. You and Fred have been dating for a few weeks, and he invited you back to the Burrow for the holidays.

You accepted, and you trudged your heavy bag into the fireplace. It was filled with gifts for the Weasley’s, and you were feeling quite confident about it.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stayed at school for the holidays, leaving you, George, Fred, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in front of a fire on Christmas eve.

You had called your father on your flip phone he had given you as an early Christmas present. He was coming over tomorrow for Christmas morning, and you felt incredibly content.

Coming back to the couch, tucking your phone into your pocket, you slipped back under Fred’s arm, curling into his side. Mr. Wealsey had already had a go at the device, and he just watched amazed at it fitting into your pocket so easily.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of your father’s booming voice downstairs. You sat up, stretching, and looked over to Ginny’s bed. It was empty, the covers were thrown aside. You slipped on a large cardigan, pulling it around your cold arms and going downstairs.

You were met with what felt like a dream. All the Weasley’s sat around the table, eating a huge Christmas breakfast and drinking tea. They each wore matching sweaters with their initials on them, and your father was standing with Mr. Weasley by the couch.

“Happy Christmas!” they all beamed at you.

Ginny tugged you over to the couch, sitting on one side of you while Fred sat on the other. Your father stood behind you on the couch, and a pile of presents were stacked in the room. You had brought your presents for the Weasley’s down last night, and you saw them on the ground.

Wrapping paper was everywhere, and the sound of happiness flooded the room. It finally came time for everyone to open what you had gotten them, and Fred went first. He tore away the red paper and held the plain box in his hands. He shook it, holding it up to his ear and smiling at you.

“Careful!” you told him, and he tore away the tape holding the box shut.

Inside, a brand new pair of garnet roller skates. He gasped, his large hands holding a skate up.

“Oh, my-” Mrs. Weasley said, already thinking of the awful thing he and George could do with those.

“It’s amazing!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you.

You returned the hug, and whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Fred.”

Soon, all the Weasley’s were holding different colored skates, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

[weelittleweasley]

Transfer Student | Draco x Reader

Prompt: After transferring from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to Hogwarts, all of Hogwarts’ eyes is on the new girl. An American Gryffindor? Everyone wants to be your friend, steal a glance from you, or ask you on a date. Can Draco resist the hype or will he end up all for the new girl?

Warnings: None! Just some fluff and longing looks from bitch boy Malfoy

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: My requests box is very full oh my LORD. I’m trying to churn them out as consistency as possible, so if I skip a day with no imagines, it’s mostly for me to take a breather and catch up on my actual work for my job and school.

America was home, no matter where you were in the world. You grew up an American and lived your life with that culture and their customs. Going to school at Ilvermorny was a treat. Tucked away in the mountains in Massachusetts, it was your happy place, full of other kids from across America, studying magic. But things changed drastically when your father was offered a position at the Ministry of Magic overseas in London. Your parents were thrilled, a prestigious job in a new country; your father accepted the position, no question. You on the other hand were more nervous than anything. Moving meant new school, new friends, new start. Not to mention, if you moved within the country, you would still attend Ilvermorny. But now that you were moving overseas, it really meant a new start with a whole different school with a whole different body of students. 

Your mother was insistent that you would be just fine starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Mom,” you insist, “I’m an American among a sea of people from the UK. I’m going to be a fish out of water. They’ll know the moment I open up my mouth!” 

But there was no changing their minds. You were moving to London whether you liked it or not. So you had to say goodbye to all of your friends at Ilvermorny. Although you expressed your anxieties about moving and switching schools, the rest of your friends were jealous of your move. Saying how London was a beautiful city and they were so jealous of all the culture and events happening. It did seem exciting, you always wanted to visit Europe, but not like this. 

Soon enough, you were on a plane to London from America, your things packed up and ready to ship you off to Hogwarts. When you arrived, your heart raced with excitement and nerves. London was a little grey and stormy, but it was still beautiful. People most melodically and dressed neatly. Men in suits, carrying around briefcases, heads tilted down as they ran to work. Women dressed cleanly and beautifully, walking to work, in and out of shoppes. Your mother gave your hand a squeeze as your father insisted you took the Tube to your new home.

London was very different from your hometown. Much more hustle and bustle with busy people, but its people were much kinder than Americans. Strangers offered you small smiles as you looked at your surroundings. As you arrived to your new home, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was different. Even the oven. You couldn’t think about how long it was going to take to get you adjusted to this life. You drag your suitcases into your room, flipping open the latches. “Don’t bother unpacking, honey,” your mom calls. “You leave for Hogwarts tomorrow, remember?”

Your stomach sinks. You couldn’t even get used to your new home because tomorrow you had to get used to your new life at Hogwarts. 

The next morning, you arrived at the train station, confused as ever. Your mom and dad walked with you through the station, interrogating you on what to tell the Professors when they asked for your information at arrival. “My name is (Y/N), I’m the transfer student from Ilvermorny, I’m going to be a junior,” you start.

“You’re a sixth year student,” your father corrects. You look at him, confused. “The education system here is different, sweetie. You’ll technically be going into year six at Hogwarts.”

Sighing, you know that this was going to take some getting used to. 

----

You watched your parents wave goodbye to you, your mother with tears in her eyes. Your heart drops, not wanting to leave your parents to go off to somewhere that was completely foreign to you. As the view of your parents fades, you walk through the train, looking for an empty stall to sit. People sat with groups of friends, laughing, picking up right where they left off. Why couldn’t you have been a first year student? This would have made things so much easier. As a sixth year, everyone had friend groups and you would have to wiggle your way into one. 

Finally, you find an empty car and plop yourself down on the seat, laying your head back. Here’s to the start of a miserable year, you think to yourself. You play with the charm bracelet on your wrist that your mother gave to you when you started school at Ilvermorny. The bracelet had a Thunderbird charm on it, the mascot of your house at Ilvermorny, and the same house as you parents. You were a proud Thunderbird, but now you had to be sorted into a new house with a new breed of people. You only hoped that whichever house you were sorted into had the same type of people as Thunderbird did. 

As you mindlessly play with the charms on your bracelet, the car that you sat in’s doors slid open. “Are you alone?” a blonde haired girl asks you, noticing you amongst the chaos of the cars around you. “Would you like some company?”

“That would be nice, actually,” you offer her a thankful smile. 

The blonde haired girl sits down in the booth across from you, pushing all of her thick hair to one shoulder. “Your accent,” she notices, her eyes widening. “It’s American,” her dainty English accent points out as you blush in embarrassment. “It’s lovely.” You slightly smile and blush, silently thanking her. “Are you a transfer student from Ilvermorny?”

You nod, “Yeah, actually. My name is (Y/N), by the way. I’m a jun-I mean a sixth year student.”

“I’m Luna,” she shakes your hand politely. “I also a sixth year. Look! You’ve only been here for five minutes and you’ve already made a friend in your year!” Your heart swell at the word friend. At least you at Luna to tag along with. The two of you talk for a while, you telling her about America and why your family moved to England, confiding in her about your nervousness about the new school and making new friends. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making friends, (Y/N). Everyone at Hogwarts is very friendly. Besides, once you get sorted into your house you’ll make a ton of friends that way!” Your stomach churns. “Do you reckon what house you’ll be sorted into?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “Nope. Back at Ilvermorny I was a Thunderbird. But I don’t know if that means I’ll get sorted into a specific house at Hogwarts.” You reach into your backpack and pull out a pack of Fruit Roll Ups. “Want one?” you open the box to her as she gives you a hesitant look. “It’s good I promise,” you giggle. “If you don’t like it, you can force me to eat a gross British snack,” you tempt as she laughs before taking one from the box.

The two of you sit in the car, peeling open your Fruit Roll Ups, munching on the sticky snack. As you laugh at Luna getting it stuck in her teeth, another person comes to the car door, sliding open, making you yelp out scared, them surprising you. “What’s that?” the red headed boy asks, referring to the snack you munch on. You just look at him, bewildered that he just burst through, no introduction, no hello, no nothing. “Oh, hi Luna,” he smiles as Luna waves. The red headed boy looks at you. “You’re new,” he states as if you didn’t know. “I’m Ron Weasley,” he smiles at you warmly, making every bad thought about him leave your mind. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you reply before tossing the ginger a Fruit Roll Up. He catches it, eyes wide with excitement as he tears it open. 

Ron sits next to Luna as he peels his Roll Up. “Your accent. You’re an American,” he points out as he looks to Luna who smiles sweetly. 

You tease, “Really? I didn’t notice.” This makes Ron let out a chuckle before eating his Fruit Roll Up in two bites. “I’m a transfer from Ilvermorny.”

“Ron! Where did you go?” a voice calls from the hall. Suddenly, a girl with brown hair, wrapped in a stripped cardigan appears with a worried look on her face. It instantly relaxes when she sees Ron sitting next to Luna and you, wrappers in his hand from the Fruit Roll Up. “Ron, you can’t just interrupt two people’s conversation and then eat their snacks.”

Ron puts his hands up in defense. “She offered it to me!”

The girl rolls her eyes at his antics before walking into your car. The booth was getting awfully full very quickly. “I’m sorry about him. He has the mental capacity of a teaspoon,” she says, making Ron let out an offended hey! “I’m Hermione Granger. You are?”

You shake her extended hand with a smile. “(Y/N), I’m a transfer student fr-”

“Ilvermorny! I heard we were getting an American, but I didn’t believe it! Wow! It’s so nice to meet you,” she exclaims, scooting closer next to you. “Are you excited to be here? Which house do you think you’ll be sorted into? From what I’ve heard about you, you were a Thunderbird, correct? I reckon you’ll be a Gryffindor by the looks of it,” Hermione fires away. You were little taken aback by how forward she was, but you had to admit it was sweet. 

All of your fears of not being able to make any friends slowly faded away.

----

It has been a week since you arrived at Hogwarts. As Hermione had predicted, you were sorted into Gryffindor, making her cheer out in delight. “Yay! More girls!” she hugged you tight when you entered the Gryffindor common room. “They can be much,” she refers to Harry and Ron behind her with a little giggle. 

You had to say so far, you adjusted well to Hogwarts. You did miss your friends back home, but whenever you started to miss them, you found Hermione or Luna and they would always cheer you up and make you feel right back at home. Your classes were interesting, but hard at Hogwarts. Your Professors were all brilliant, some more intimidating than others. Regardless, you worked hard for your grades, doing study groups with Hermione, quizzing yourself with Luna, and spending countless nights in the library. 

However, much to your surprise, you were the talk of the halls at Hogwarts. Whenever you were in the hallways, you would feel people’s eyes on you as you walked beside Luna, whispers throwing your name around. Your anxiety grew. What did people think of you? Did they think you were strange? Did they hate that an American was in the school? 

It was actually quite the opposite. People were fascinated by you and how charismatic you were. You were kind to everyone, offering people smiles, making conversation in the Great Hall during meals, offering help with studying. You were the it girl of Hogwarts. 

That was a new concept for you since you always blended in at Ilvermorny. Maybe it was time for a change. You were getting invited to parties, asked to hang out on weekends in Hogsmeade, and not to mention, you were a few people’s crushes. “Hi (Y/N),” Seamus waved at you with a shy smile.

“Hey, Seamus,” you smile back, brightly, unaware of his blossoming crush on you. His cheeks turned beet red as you wiggled your fingers back at him. Hermione laughs next to you as a bunch of Gryffindor boys in your year watch you walk down the hall, you tossing your hair over your shoulder. “What’s so funny, Granger?” you ask, pushing her shoulder lightly. “Is it so strange that I say hi to everyone in the halls?”

She just shakes her head. “Are you that blind?” she laughs. “(Y/N), nearly every boy in our year fancies you.” You furrow your brows. Hermione groans, knowing you didn’t understand her slang. “The boys all think you’re cute. They’ve got crushes on you.”

Rolling your eyes is disbelief, you enter your History of Magic class. “Yeah, right, Hermione. The day everyone has a crush on me is the day pigs fly,” you plop down in your chair, grabbing your book out of your satchel. “Besides, I’m sure it’s just the new girl crush. It’ll be over within the next week, I’m sure of it.”

Hermione looks at you knowingly. “(Y/N), you’ve been here for two months now.” You just ignore her comment and continue getting ready to take notes for class. “There’s no denying that you are the popular girl,” she teases you as you fake gag. “I’m serious. I dare you to flirt with anyone in here and see their reaction,” she whispers to you.

You look around the room to see who would be the person most likely to shoot you down if you flirted with them. Two desks over was Blaise Zabini sat next to Draco Malfoy. You smirked and nudged Hermione as if to say watch this. “Blaise?” you ask, his head shooting up to look at you. “I think I forgot my quill. Do you have one I could borrow?” you bat your eyes at him.

A cheeky grin comes across his face as he hands you the one in his hand. “Forgetful today?” he smirks as you giggle. “You can borrow my quill any day,” he winks at you as Hermione fake gags, making Zabini rolls his eyes.

“Why don’t you ask Granger for one next time? The mudblood is always prepared,” Draco speaks from behind Zabini. 

Anger rises in your chest as Malfoy laughs about your best friend. “Why don’t you just keep your fat trap shut and cry to daddy about how much you hate this school, Malfoy? No one wants to hear it out of you, least of all me,” you spit before turning away to do your work. Hermione smiles as you, squeezing your hand. “See? Malfoy doesn’t have a crush on me!” you tell her, making her laugh.

Meanwhile, Draco glares at Zabini. “Don’t tell me you fancy the American girl too.” Zabini keeps his mouth shut, knowing what’s best for him. “What is everyone’s obsession with her? She’s American, not from outer space.”

Blaise shakes his head. “Come on, Malfoy. She’s proper fit, isn’t she? Not to mention, she’s quite cheeky and has good banter.”

Draco just slaps Blaise upside the head. “Oh, please,” he huffs. “There’s plenty of girls like that in this school. She’s not the only one.”

Throughout class Draco thinks to himself about what the entirety of Hogwarts’ student body saw in you. He ignored the lecture going on in the front of the classroom and dreamily watched you during class. You sat there, biting down on your lower lip gently in concentration, scribbling down notes as your nose scrunched up when a question came to mind. He could see the wheels churning in your head when you asked a question and then the lightbulb flick on when it was answered and it made sense. You let a small dance play on your lips when you answered a question correctly faster than Hermione. You hair flopped on head perfect as you pushed strands back as they fell. Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and playfulness like a child. Draco’s heart thumped a little louder when you let out a giggle when the professor made an awful joke. His heart nearly stopped when you looked over at him and caught his gaze, your cheeks taking a rosy hue as you looked away shyly. Draco didn’t look away for a second. He wanted you to know he was observing you. Shit, he silently thought as he felt his heart rate pick up when you sent a cheeky wink his way. He was caught.

You left class that day, a little pep in your step. You didn’t think much about people having a crush on you, but something about Draco Malfoy staring at you during class made you giggly. “What are you on about?” Hermione pokes your side. “I know you aren’t happy about that lecture, so spill.”

“Nothing,” you smile as you walk down the hall. “Can’t I just be happy?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. She had a feeling she knew what was happen, but rather than embarrass you about it, she kept to herself. “Alright,” she sing-songs.

------

The more time passed the more Draco found himself thinking about you and itching to get to class just so he could tune the professor out at steal longing glances at you. Sometimes you would catch him as he sent a little wink your way as you blushed. Sometimes he would catch you staring at him which gave him way too much satisfaction of knowing you liked him just as much as he liked you. 

You had no problem talking to boys, but Draco was different. You didn’t talk to him much because you were too scared you were going to embarrass yourself in front of him.

But Draco on the other hand found any excuse to walk right up to you in the halls and strike up conversation. He would see you walk down the hall, his eyes zeroing in on, dismissing his friend group as he made his way up to you. He didn’t care who you were with whether it was Luna or Hermione. Draco just slid himself next to you with a sly, “Where are you off to, American girl?”

You did not try to stop the blush from appearing on your cheeks. “What’s it to you, Malfoy?” you tease as he laughs.

“I’d walk you there if you let me,” he suggested as you glanced to Luna or Hermione as they would fall behind to walk to class with Ron or Harry. “Ah, alone at last,” he’d tease as your friend walked away, earning a teasingly slap from you. “Don’t worry, I won’t try and pull anything on you.”

As you sat in another class of History of Magic, you doodled in your notebook. When the professor turned his back to write on the chalkboard, you see a small origami dove fly over to your desk. Curiosity gets the best of you as you peel it open to see a little note scribbled on the inside.

American Girl,

I need to ask you a very important question.

You look to your left to see Draco staring straight ahead at the board, but his eyes look towards you with a sneaky smile on his lips. You shake your head, a grin teasing your lips as you write back, And what would that be, Mr. Malfoy? 

When the professor turns back around, you send the note back to him. You watch him scribble for a while, your curiosity eating away inside of you. Finally, he folds the note back up and send it your way quickly.

The note lands back on your desk as you ravenously open it, dying to know what the question was. 

You. Me. Hogsmeade. This Saturday.

Your heart flutters and you want to giggle, but you hide your smile and scribble back coyly, That’s not a question, Malfoy. 

Again, you send it back his way, watching him open it as you bite your lip to contain your smile as you pretend to pay attention to the class. From your peripheral vision, you watch him scribble back. The note lands back on your desk and you let it sit there for a second, making Malfoy sweat. You let a solid ten seconds pass before looking at the note, pretending to be shocked to see it on your desk, before peeling it open slowly as Malfoy lightly laughs, watching you do so.

So it that a yes?

You smile and write out as slowly as you possibly can. It’s a yes.

The note makes its way back to Draco’s desk as he catches it from the air, ripping it open. He smiles impossibly wider and laughs a “yes,” a little too loud for your professor to hear. 

“Mr. Malfoy? Would you like to share something with the class?” your Professor asks.

Draco realizes that everyone’s eyes on him, including you as a deep shade of pink rises to your cheeks. Draco sends you a wink before standing up from his seat, your heart beating fast. What is he doing? “Actually, yes,” he retorts. “I’ve got a date with the new girl,” he declares. Girls all turn to you before immediately whispering to those around them as some boys groan and others cheer Malfoy on. 

You just sit there, blushing like a fool. Hermione grabs your arm. “No way,” she speaks.

“You better believe it,” you whisper, eyes not leaving Draco’s as Zabini high fives him. Saturday could not come quicker.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Come What May

Request: hey! can i get a request for an american transfer (i’m not sure if they were even a thing lol but anyways) and she is a hufflepuff? maybe she becomes friends with remus due to him being a prefect and sirius ends up really liking her? if you want to change it up a little bit for your writing that’s perfectly fine! xx

A/N: I loved writing this - it took me some time to start, but I loved writing it. I hope you like it and I hope I’ve done it justice. I’ve no clue whether I’ve made the reader American enough but I still hope its good nonetheless. Moulin Rouge is one of my favourite musicals; the title is the name of the song. Enjoy!! :)

Pairing: Sirius Black x American!Transfer!Reader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, I wanna say swearing but I can't remember, mentions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, mentions of homesickness

Word count: 3.3k

In an attempt to improve relations between the wizarding worlds of the United States of America and the United Kingdom, MACUSA and the Ministry of Magic set up a transfer scheme for sixth years of Ilvermorny and Hogwarts. The entirety of their sixth year would be spent abroad where they would gain the worthwhile experience of receiving an education in a different country.

Some pressure from your mother had you applying to spend a year at Hogwarts. Only ten students from the year group were given the opportunity – when it was offered to you, you took it with both hands. A year abroad would look good on your final transcript when applying to train as a Healer.

Upon arriving at Hogwarts, you were swiftly sorted into Hufflepuff; a kind, gentle house that made you feel welcome. Their proximity to the school kitchens would help with reducing the stress for exam season, you thought.

Your first week was plagued with intense homesickness. The Scottish Highlands were hauntingly beautiful, but they were nothing compared to your surroundings at Ilvermorny. You longed for the familiar sight of the familiar Mount Greylock. You missed your family, but your mother’s letters would still find you at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall had assured you of that.

Your classes were hard to navigate. Hogwarts was bigger than Ilvermorny and you found yourself running from one side of the castle to the other in an attempt to get to lessons on time.

“Hi, are you okay?” A male voice asks. You turn to find lanky teenager with scars littering his face looking at you in concern. A prefect badge on the collar of his robes had you relaxing; here was someone that could help you.

“Hey!” You shout, eagerly, happy to see a friendlier face, “I’m lost. I’m trying to find Divination.”

He smiles at you, “You’re in luck, I’m heading to Divination as well.”

“That’s great, I’ll follow your lead. I’ve been here three weeks; you’d have thought I’d have the layout down by now.”

He chuckles, “I’m Remus, by the way.”

You hold a hand out to him, he shakes it once, “I’m (Y/N). I’m part of the transfer scheme between Ilvermorny and Hogwarts.”

Remus sits beside you in Divination; helping you when you struggled with understanding the teacher’s accent. Divination was taught at Ilvermorny, and along with Herbology and Potions, was one of the subjects you excelled at. Your four times great grandmother on your father’s side was a prophetess who barely escaped the witch trials in Salem; her talents had been passed down to you.

The lesson is over fairly quickly with Remus by your side, helping to translate the Professor’s words. You’re packing your books up, hoping your usually spot in the library isn’t taken when Remus asks: “(Y/N), would you like to join me for lunch? You’ll have to meet my friends, but they’re mainly harmless.”

“Mainly?”

Remus flashed you a grin, “They’ll talk your ear off, but they mean well.”

“In that case, I’d love to join you for lunch. I’d be spending it in alone in the library, so this is a definite upgrade. Lead the way.”

On the walk to the Great Hall, you and Remus bond more and you can feel the start of a genuine friendship beginning to be built.

By the time you arrive at the Great Hall, you have decided that Remus is in fact a sweetheart with a heart of gold who loves his books as much as he loves his friends. From your limited knowledge of Hogwarts houses, you can see exactly how Remus meets the standards to be a Gryffindor.

Remus automatically heads to the table assigned to Gryffindor, spotting his friends in the crowd. You only hesitate for a moment before joining him.

“(Y/N), these are James, Peter and Sirius.” Remus introduces, pointing to each teenage boy with their name. They look at you with fascination as you take a seat next to Remus, who hands you the pitcher of water without a second thought. Yes, your friendship with Remus would be something you truly treasure with all of your heart.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” You greet, not missing how their eyes widen at your accent.

“Are you one of the American exchange students?” Peter asks.

You nod, smiling at him, “I am.”

If it’s possible, his eyes widen further, “You must be really smart then. Like super smart to get into the programme. The one’s we got in Gryffindor are like geniuses.”

“Thank you, that’s a very nice compliment.”

Peter blushes, breaking the eye contact between you two.

You start placing food onto your plate, eating a forkful in between answering questions.

“My turn now – how did you all become friends?”

James grins, “We all met on train and became friends. It seemed fate was on our side when we were all sorted into the same house.”

You look at the ties each worn by the teenagers; stripes of solid red stand out against dark black. “You’re all in Gryffindor!”

James nods, “We are! And our ever-lovely Remus is our prefect.”

You smile when you see Remus out of the corner of your eye, sitting a little straighter at the sound of his school role.

Sirius catches your eye, a smirk turning the one corner of his lips upwards, “What house were you sorted into?”

You point to your tie, not missing the way his eyes rake up and down your body, “Hufflepuff,” you state proudly, feeling very at home with your Hogwarts house.

“What’s your house at Ilvermorny?” He asks, pronouncing each syllable of your school separately, testing out the sound of it on his tongue.

“Pukwudgie.” You declare, prouder than ever of your house back in America. Those sorted into Pukwudgie are defined by their passions and their desires; they commit themselves fully to everything they do whilst being fiercely loyal caregivers and protectors.

Sirius’ lips tremble; he wants to chuckle at the odd sounding name. You don’t miss the expression on his face, rolling your eyes at it.

“We have four houses at Ilvermorny: Pukwudgie, Wampus, Horned Serpent, and Thunderbird. It is said that my house, Pukwudgie, favours healers which makes sense since that is what I’m working towards. I want to work at the hospital for magical folk in New York City. The other houses favour different positions; Wampus – warriors, Horned Serpent – scholars, and Thunderbird – adventurers. Truthfully, we aren’t that different to Hogwarts expect for the fact that we’re in America. The Hogwarts students over there are probably realising the same thing. ”

The four boys look at you in astonishment, and you realise that since you arrived in Scotland, those were the most words you had spoken in succession.

“Well,” You say, grinning, taking a sip of your water, “we aren’t entirely different other than the fact that we’re better

James squawks in indignation, “How? I think you’re mistaken. I’m going to need a point by point explanation of how that is even possible. Hogwarts is the best school out there!”

You laugh at him, “Hogwash. Are you ready for that conversation, James?”

Sirius grins, showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth, “Oh, I like you. I think we’re going to get on like a house on fire.”

With your heart racing, your answering smile is blinding.

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

The Marauders adopt you as an honorary member; Peter had dubbed you the emissary to Ilvermorny with a promise to tell your tales of your time at Hogwarts to the student body of the school; to make them famous ‘across the pond’.

The more time you spent with the pranksters, the more you saw them as themselves. James and Sirius were ridiculously smart but played aloof – happier to marked as the class clowns than the smartest in the class (though they were by miles). James was besotted with a red-haired girl named Lily who never seemed to want to give him the time of day, but he persisted.

Peter had the best stories from his childhood, and he was more than happier to tell you them. But there was something simmering under the surface with Peter, as if he was too close to the flame of something he couldn’t quite pull back from. You hoped he would before it was too late.

Remus confessed to you a month into your friendship, of his lycanthropy – he trusted you, he knew you wouldn’t spread his secret and you wouldn’t. You could see his self-hatred always simmering, but Remus was so pure of heart with a predisposition for trouble that made him a natural leader when planning the school-wide famous pranks, that you knew he would not let the wolf inside him control him for longer than was necessary.

The friendship you had created with all four of them was something you would cherish upon returning to Ilvermorny. In such little time, they had taken you in and made you feel at home within their group.

Out of all them, you felt drawn to Sirius and he was more than happy to entertain you. He found you fascinating as well as extremely beautiful. There was something about your eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on, but they had him from the very moment they fell on him in the Great hall. He could sit and listen to you for hours whether it be a story or a rant. He was more than happy to let you talk and for him to listen. You had bewitched him; mind, body and soul. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth.

It was this that made you fall in love with him.

As cliché as it is to describe, your feelings for Sirius took you by surprise. In a matter of few weeks, you had started to fall in love with the shaggy-haired prankster. He had captured your heart in a way you never thought possible; you found it hard to think of anything but him. Your heart raced with every bit of eye contact made across the classroom; as if you were the only one in his line of vision.

Sirius had a way to make you feel as if you were the only one in the world; he would listen to your rants over the differing education systems between the USA and the UK or if someone had gotten on your nerves. He would defend you if ever a cross word was even uttered in your direction; Severus Snape had been on the receiving end of most of Sirius’ hexes. Sirius had you completely enthralled.

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

You spend weeks agonising over your feelings for the Gryffindor; badgering Remus at every opportunity until he cracks and tells you that Sirius feels the same but doesn’t know how to approach you.

You decide then and there that you’re going to tell him; that you’re going to confess your feelings for him. As you rush to the library, you steel yourself in case of rejection. It would break your heart, but you would find a way to repair the friendship.

You find Sirius in an isolated corner of the library, pouring over one of the many leather bounded books. The library had taken your breath away when you first arrived; never in your life had you seen so many ancient and dusty tomes dedicated to the practice of witchcraft and wizardry. Now, your eyes are drawn to the teenager hidden among them.

Sirius is sitting in one of the few arm chairs. You don’t sit down; the anxiety and adrenaline preparing your legs for a quick exit if needed.

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” You ask.

Sirius looks up from his book, wide-eyed, “What?”

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? I know it’s a free weekend for the both of us and I’d like to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I like you, Sirius and I think you’ve known for a while that I do.”

Sirius can’t help the blush that rushes to his cheeks, “I know of your feelings.”

“I need to know: are they returned or am I overstepping here?”

Sirius places his book on the table, “No, no, you’re not overstepping. I’ve had a crush on your for a while.”

Your grin lights up your face and Sirius find himself making the promise of to always be the cause of your smiles and never your tears.

“So would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me?”

“As long as you let me pay; it would be shame on my name for me to let such a beautiful person pay for their date.”

“You are a gentleman. So you will come?”

“Yes, we’ll go to Hogsmeade on a date this weekend. I adore your confidence.”

“I’m American,” You state, shrugging your shoulders, “We’re born with it.”

Sirius barks a laugh as he pulls you into his lap, his hands on your waist. You press not one, but two kisses to his cheek where the blush still remains, savouring he fact that it was you who affects him so, and no-one else.

Sirius relaxes beneath you; happy to have you in his arms for however long you have left at Hogwarts.

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

In the muted light of the moon reflecting into his dorm room, you can be honest with each other. Your time at the school for witchcraft and wizardry was coming to a close with little under a month before you were returning to Ilvermorny to complete your final year of education.

You didn’t try to ignore the lance of pain spearing your heart as you imagine that year without Sirius. A little over four months with him and you knew that you have found the love of your life; that there would be no-one else for you.

“I don’t want to leave you,” You whisper in the dark of the night, curled under his arm, your hand pressed to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat under your palm.

“I don’t want you to go.” He whispers against your hair.

Tears sting the corner of your eyes, “What are we going to do?”

“For now, I’m going to sleep next to the girl I love. Tomorrow, we are going to talk about it, I promise. I just want to hold you now.”

“Tomorrow,” You promise, “Tonight, I just want to be held by you.”

Sirius pulls you tighter to him; as if the two of you aren’t already pressed together. He drops another kiss to your head while you press one to his shoulder. You aren’t sure whether of you get a lot of sleep that night; worries of the future working their way down the familiar path of your mind.

The following morning brings lingering touches and unhurried kisses. The anxiety from last night hangs like a dark cloud over the both of you but there is a determination within you to hurry it away.

The day is spent slowly; slowly walking around the grounds, slowly reading in the common room, slowly kissing. As if the slower your pace, the longer you can spend in his arms where you truly want to be.

The topic needs to be approached; it needs to be addressed or else it’ll sour the remaining time you have left with the boy you’ve fallen in love with.

Laying on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, your head in Sirius’ lap, you ask, “What are your plans for the summer?”

He sighs, pretending to think it through as he brushes a hand from the top of your forehead to the tip of your nose, “I’m not sure, I think I’m going to be visiting this really pretty girl that I’ve fallen in love with.”

You beam, “Yes please. Come stay with me! My family is going to love you.”

Sirius’ cheeks warm, “Really?”

You nod, “Definitely, I’ve already told them all about you in my letters. My mom is going to love you. My dad is going to take some persuading though. I think the whole family won’t be able to leave you alone. I go to Scotland and come back with a boyfriend.”

Sirius laughs, warm and rich, “I’ll have to bring my charming self.”

“You do that, and you won’t get to leave.”

“Maybe that’s the plan. I think we can do it, you know.”

“Can do what?”

“A long-distance relationship. I think we can do it; I think we’re strong enough.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I know we haven’t been together very long but I’m in this for the long-haul. I want no-one else but you; I love no-one else but you. In such a short time, you’ve shown me what a relationship should be like and I want it. I want it all with you. So I think we’re strong enough to get through it. We can send letters and on the longer holidays, we can alternate between America and the UK.”

“You’ve really thought this through.”

Sirius nods, nudging you to sit up. “I have. I thought of it last night, I don’t know how neither of us thought of it earlier.”

You think it through, seeing no disadvantages to his plan other than the fact that you would miss him dearly. “I like it. Let’s do it, let’s do long-distance. I love you too, I want no-one else either. I hope you’re ready for all of my letters, Black.”

He laughs; the sound music to your ears, “More than ready.”

You can’t help the smile as you lean into kiss him.

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

7 years later:

The house is quiet; too quiet, you think as you push your feet into your slippers. You make your way downstairs to be greeted to the sight of your husband of five years cooking with your four year old daughter. 

“I think we’ve been caught, sweetheart.” Sirius whispers to the toddler sitting on the kitchen counter.

Your daughter turns from her place, “We’re making pancakes!”

“I can see that,” You say, chuckling, making your way to your husband – kissing him before kissing your daughter on the top of her head.

“We wanted to give you a bit longer in bed. I know you were up most of the night feeling sick.” Sirius says, a hand touching the barely-there bump.

“You’re my knight in shining armour, Mr. Black”

“Always at your service, Mrs. Black.”

Your final year at Ilvermorny was filled with letter upon letter from Sirius telling you the stories of his final year at Hogwarts. You were very happy indeed when he reported that James and Lily had finally started to see each other, and that Remus was thinking of going steady with a girl in Ravenclaw who loved books as much as he did.

The long-distance relationship was hard at times; always after a visit from one of you to the other but nevertheless, you both persevered – worries always extinguished over written word. Your family understood that your home was now in England; in the arms of a black-haired prankster that had captivated your heart from the very first smile. Your dream of being a healer was still very much attainable in England.

You and Sirius were not long behind James and Lily for marriage. Sirius had proposed one evening after you returned home from your shift at St Mungo’s; bone tired and in the need of a hug, you were shocked to return home to rose petals leading to the living room where Sirius was down on one knee – the only light in the room being from the candles lit on every surface available. You both cried when you accepted; you both cried at the wedding a year later.

You didn’t think there would be any more room in your heart to love someone else other than Sirius.

Then you found out you were pregnant. And your heart made room for one more. Your heart had stretched to fit three when your test came back positive for the baby currently growing in your womb.

As you sit in your kitchen, watching your husband cutting up pancakes for your daughter, you feel overwhelmingly grateful for your mother pushing you to fill out the transfer paperwork all those years ago.

*******

Harry Potter (General) taglist: @slytherinprincess03 @bforbroadway @obsessedwithrandomthings @the-hufflefluffwriter @masterofthedarkness @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis

Sirius Black taglist: @cheapglitter @fific7

[istanbulwild]

Simple rites of the Protestant Armenian Church

The first marriage, according to the simple rites of the Protestant Armenian Church, was celebrated on the 4th of November, 1847. Hitherto all marriage ceremonies had been performed by the clergy of the old church; but now that the Protestants had a separate organization, they had no occasion to go back to the old ecclesiastics, nor eould they obtain from them any official service. They were excommunicate. The bride, in the marriage alluded to, was a pupil of the Female Seminary, of whom Mr. Goodell gives the following sketch: —

“ She was in school a little more than a year, but it was to her the year of jubilee. She came poor and ignorant, and it was necessary to assist her with clothing. She had no bed, and expressed her willingness to lie on the floor. But she was diligent in her studies; she waked up to a new life; she sat daily at the feet of her heavenly Teacher, to learn of Him; she had much to learn, and she learned much; she joined the church of Christ; and the poor ignorant girl, whom we at first hesitated to receive, has become wise unto salvation, and rich for eternity. She is now married to one of our native helpers, who was employed by us to distribute the word of God, and point dying men to the life-giving efficacy of atoning blood.”

Lord Jesus Christ

I have had occasion more than once to speak of the ward all who loved our Lord Jesus Christ, to whatever church of Christ they belonged. All were his brethren, truly and well beloved, who loved and served the same Master. This characteristic marked his whole life, and appears in all his writings, as they have been transferred to these pages. It is a pleasure, also, to record that he was generally received in the same spirit, even by those who might be supposed to differ from him in regard to important ecclesiastical matters. He was called to act as a sort of chaplain to the English embassy from time to time, during a great part of his residence at Constantinople, and in the families of English and American Episcopalians he was often invited to officiate as a minister of Christ in the most sacred services travelling bulgaria.

To them he was a true minister of Christ, accredited not only by his standing in the church, but by his life of faith and holy service, and by the evidence that the spirit of grace was upon him. The following extract from one of his letters will show what feelings were cherished toward him by the members and representatives of the Church of England: —

British embassy

“The Rev. Dr. Bennett, who was chaplain to the British embassy here, departed this life on the 2Gth April, 1847, of disease of the heart. At his request I visited him often during his illness, and prayed by his bedside. The consolations of religion, which he had so often been called in the course of a long ministry to give to others in their last hours, I endeavored to administer to him; and though the prayers I offered were probably the first extemporaneous prayers he ever heard, they appeared to be a comfort to him.

“ Of his situation as a dying man he was perfectly aware; and he macle all his arrangements, and gave his parting counsels to his friends with as much calmness and composure as though his removal, instead of being from time to eternity, was to be only a removal from one apartment of his house to another, llis end was peace. lie often remarked, ‘I die in peace with all men. I feel no ill-will towards any person, however much he may have differed from me.’ And, ‘ although I have endeavored to perform with fidelity the duties of my station, yet I know I am a sinner, and I do not expect salvation for any works of my own, but only through the merits of Jesus Christ our Lord.’ His spirit was truly a catholic one; and, instead of that exclusiveness which ‘ separated very friends,’ his was that charity which embraces all the good, of whatever name or denomination.

Rarely, if ever, did I visit him during the last few weeks of his life, when he did not send his love and blessing to all the missionary brethren, often to each one by name. At the request of his family, at the request also of the English residents, and of Mr. Avellesly, the English ambassador, I performed the last sad olliees at the funeral on the 2‘Jtli. On the following Sabbath I endeavored to improve the occasion by an appropriate discourse, and to stir up the people to prayers that another pastor may be speedily sent to them, one who shall be a man after God’s own heart. And as this is a subject which concerns not only them, but also this mission, let prayer be offered for them by all the friends of the missionary cause.”

Of the successor to Dr. Dennett in the chaplaincy of the English embassy, he subsequently wrote: —

[too-attached-to-fiction]

Choose To Be Better | d.m.

Masterlist here

Part 2 here

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Word count: 1888

Request: Would you write a Draco Malfoy imagine where the reader is an American pureblood transfer to Slytherin and so she butts heads with the racist Slytherins, Draco included but at a Christmas ministry event she and Draco end up spending time together and she realizes he isn't bad when he's alone so it starts a 'friendship' where they still bicker but it's not spiteful and during the 6th year she is there for him?

A/N: YES! I love writing draco and i love the arcs where the reader/OC saves him from becoming a part of the death eaters! This kind of ran away from me but I’m actually really glad it did. I think it’s because I tried to shove like a bunch of the books in but I’m very proud of it and I hope you enjoy it too! I didn’t really put the bickering part in because I wasn’t sure how to fit it all together but otherwise I think this is pretty good :) Thank you anon!

~~~

“Before we begin with the sorting, we have accepted a transfer student from Ilvermorny who is starting her third year here. Miss (L/N), if you would be so kind to step up to the sorting hat?”

You nodded, moving wordlessly to the stool and climbing up. You weren’t sure how Hogwarts houses related to Ilvermorny houses, but you assumed the systems were similar. Back in America, you had been in Pukwudgie, the house representing a wizard’s heart. 

Around you, you heard whispers arise from the tables of students. 

“A transfer student?” 

“Ilvermorny? I’ve never heard of it…” 

“What country?”

“America, I think…” 

The whispers were tuned out as a professor placed an old wizard’s hat on your head. 

“(Y/N) (L/N)... What an interesting student. You were in Pukwudgie, I hear.” 

“Yes.” 

“Fascinating… You’re bright, very bright. Now where shall I place you?” 

You’d listened to the sorting hat’s song at the beginning of the ceremony, but you weren’t sure where you’d fit. You wanted to help people, but you were determined to forge your own path, away from your family history.

“Your father was a Ravenclaw, yes? And yet, you want more than knowledge. You’re quite a mystery, my girl. Where do you want to go? There are pieces of you in every house.” 

“I thought you would be the one to sort me in the right place.” You retorted, and the hat chuckled. 

“Ooh, you’re feisty. Now listen, my dear, whatever you’ve been told about each house is reputation, not fact. I trust you’ll make better choices than most… you’d be better off in SLYTHERIN!” The hat shouted. Apart from a few stray cheers from the table, the rest of the hall merely clapped politely. 

Although you believed the sorting hat had put you in the right place, you certainly didn’t feel welcome in the dungeons of the castle. Most of your dorm mates were quiet around you, and in turn, you were quiet around them. You were a good student in all of your classes, and kept your head down to avoid any confrontation. 

And yet, you seemed to butt heads with one Draco Malfoy. 

It seemed that he never went anywhere without his two goons, and it wasn’t so bad until one day, he decided to go after you. 

“Look, it’s the little transfer. What, America didn’t like you, so you came here?” 

“My parents divorced.” You shot back. “I didn’t have a choice.” 

“What, your mum didn’t want you?” 

“Go away, Malfoy.” You rolled your eyes, turning back to your book. “I have no interest in people who bully others for their amusement.” 

When you returned home for the winter holidays, you had nothing to report. You managed to make a few friends outside of your house, but most of the Slytherin students remained cold to you, probably due to Malfoy’s influence. 

“There's a Ministry Christmas gala being hosted by the Minister at Malfoy Manor. You and your brother will be accompanying me tonight.” Your father told you. “Please remember your manners. While I may not agree with the Malfoy’s values, it’s better to be polite than be rude to the enemy.” 

~~~

This gala had to be one of the most boring events you attended. Still, you feigned interest as you spoke to the other adults around you. Most of them had a habit of talking down to you, but you merely smiled and continued on your way. 

You were on your way to get a glass of punch when Malfoy intercepted you. 

“(L/N), what is a mudblood like yourself doing here?” 

“I’m a half-blood, for your information.” You said coolly, trying to find ways around you to get out of the conversation. You kept your shoulders back, jutting up your chin. “Half American pureblood and half English pureblood. But I suppose only the English side matters to you.” You brushed past him, continuing to walk towards where you had been planning on going. 

Draco followed, suddenly intrigued. “Why would you be at an event like this? I thought only adults were allowed.” 

“You’re not the only one with a father in power.” You said, continuing forward. “Is there something you need, Malfoy, or are you planning on trying to instigate a fight for the rest of the evening?” 

“Would you like to get away from this boring party?” 

“Please, be my guest.” He held out his hand for you to take and you glanced at it. 

“I’m not kidnapping you, for Merlin’s sake.” 

“Just checking.” You smiled, taking his hand. 

A few minutes later, you wound up in one of the gardens, away from the bright lights of the party. The two of you sat down on a stone bench in the center, your hand not quite ready to leave his just yet. 

“Why did you take me out here?” You asked after a few moments of silence. “I thought you didn’t like me.” 

“Perhaps I’ve had a change of heart.” He replied quietly. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold, after all.” 

“Why? Is it so hard to be yourself?” 

“I don’t know who I am. All I know is that I am a Malfoy, and I can only interact with the highest of blood purity.” 

“A halfblood isn’t the highest.” 

“You were invited. Not many get that honour.” Draco backpedaled, removing his hand from yours. 

“Do you want to be a Malfoy?” 

“Of course. How could you ask such a thing?” In an instant, his walls rose. You sighed in defeat.

“You don’t want to be a Malfoy, Draco.” You said clearly. “You’re only a son trying to please his bigoted father.”

“That’s not true.” He stood up, cheeks reddening. “My father will hear about-” 

“Hear about what? I’m sure you’re breaking his rules by talking to an American, and a halfblood, aren’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, and his shoulders sagged in defeat. “We can’t be here long, then.” 

“If you don’t believe in the importance of blood purity, why are you here? Why did you choose to come with me?” 

You stood up, your (E/C) eyes searching for something in his grey ones. “Because I believe there’s good in you. You are not Lucius Malfoy. You are Draco Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy needs to learn how to make his own choices. If you let me, I can help you be your own person.” 

“I am my own person.” He said, but his words sounded unsure. 

“You just told me you don’t know who you are.” You matched his cold stare with ease. 

“I don’t need your help.” 

“If not me, who else will help you?” 

“Someone will.” 

“You don’t sound sure about that.” You raised your eyebrow again. “It’s our actions and choices that define us, not our family.”

~~~

A few days after Buckbeak had vanished from Hagrid’s hut, Draco came to talk to you in the common room. 

“I want to be better.” 

Instead of dropping your mouth open with shock, as Draco expected, you only smiled up at him. 

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” 

For the duration of the summer holiday, you and Draco exchanged letters back and forth, In them, he wrote of his hesitation to participate in activities his father forced him in. The only solution you could possibly give him was to act the way he always acted. You needed more time to figure out how to help, given that his family was known as one of Voldemort’s higher accomplices. 

One day, towards the end of summer, you approached your father. Miraculously, your family had been growing closer and closer to the Weasleys and Harry Potter. 

“Dad?” You asked, knocking on the door to his study. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” 

Your father swung open the door. “Now what could be so important that it needed to interrupt my work?” “It’s important.” 

Earlier in the summer, your father had told you about the Order of the Phoenix. Despite the fact that it was currently dormant, he and the other Order members believed that Voldemort’s return was inching closer and closer by the day. 

“Important how?” 

“I need you to help me help someone.” 

You quickly skimmed over the details, not mentioning Draco’s identity at all. “What should I do?” 

“You shouldn’t be concerning yourself over these matters, (Y/N), they’re very dangerous-” 

“Please.” 

“I’ll write Dumbledore, but don’t expect anything to come from it.” 

~~~

During your fifth year, you brought Draco to your house for the winter holiday. He’d mentioned he’d stay at school, but you insisted he be around people at Christmas. When you pulled Draco into your father’s study, your father’s eyes set quickly, darkening. 

“(Y/N), please explain what a Malfoy is doing in our house.” 

“He needs help, Dad.” 

Reluctantly, your father brought your family and Draco to Grimmauld Place for an appeal to the Order of the Phoenix. Tensions were raised on both sides, with only Dumbledore willing to hear Draco out. 

“Why him?” Sirius demanded. “Out of all people, why are we helping him?”

“We’re no better than the Death Eaters if we don’t hear him out.” Your glare quieted the other members. “Draco is not his father or his father’s choices. He doesn’t want to be a part of the Death Eaters, and we are not leaving this room until we find a way to help him.” 

“They’re children, what do they know about war?” Arthur Weasley objected. 

“They are children. But I trust my daughter, and her choices, even if it means trusting a Malfoy. And I trust Dumbledore, who has graciously agreed to come at once regarding my message.” Your father spoke up, and Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement. 

“They’re too young-” Molly started, but Snape cut her off. 

“But not incapable. The boy’s doing it for his family, no matter how much he tries to distance himself. We cannot remove him completely from the situation, but we can use this to our advantage. If the Malfoys are anything, they are misguided by their beliefs.” 

“Thank you, Severus.” Dumbledore finally turned to the two of you. “Draco, if you are alright working as a spy…” 

“If it means not working for him, then by all means.” Draco bowed his head. “When the time is right, I’m going to fight by your sides. Even if I’m killed in the process.”

None of the current Gryffindors were made aware of this decision, but the two Slytherins headed home, satisfied. 

The next two and a half years took a toll on you and Draco. You saw him less and less, and when you did, he seemed worse for wear. You were aware of his mark, and of his mission, but that didn’t make you any less determined to help him and get out of this war for good. 

You watched across the courtyard as Voldemort awkwardly hugged Draco. This was all part of the plan, and you’d come this far. You had to survive this. 

When the duel finished, he rushed over to your side. Both of his parents shot sad but knowing looks at his back. 

A year later, Narcissa would thank you for keeping her son safe. But now, in his arms, amidst the rubble… 

All you could think about was a long-deserved future with him. 

[malfoys-demigod]

Picquery

Draco Malfoy x Male!Reader

Summary: Y/N Picquery is an American pureblood wizard from Ilvermorny and son of the famous beater, Lucas Picquery. His parents got a job in the British Ministry and decided to pull Y/N out of Ilvermorny in the middle of the school year and transfer him during the winter break of Hogwarts. New to the school, Y/N settles on making friends with whom he thought was a regular student in school, Draco Malfoy, who decided to give Y/N a hard time whenever they interacted, not seeing that Y/N wanted to be someone Draco had never truly had: a real friend. But... maybe they could be more?

Requested by: @daleanjustwantstohavefun who said “It’s me again, thanks for answering. I wanted to request a Draco x Male Slytherin. The reader has a shy personality and is just trying to befriend Draco. Draco at first is being a prick, but slowly starts to develop a crush on the reader.”

A/N: Dear, Dalean. I kinda went off with most of the storyline. I’m sorry, I haven’t had the time to write because school has been making my life so busy and stressful. I’m sorry you had to wait but I hope this fic isn’t too bad for you.  

Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @bbeauttyybbx

Word Count: 8.6K

Among the countless reasons why you were most likely going to be the talk of the entire school for the remaining months, there were four main reasons that could possibly explain it all. One, you were the son of Lucas Picquery, known to be one of the best beaters in the American National Quidditch team, having countless headlines flashed in newspapers saying, ‘Picquery beats the visitors again, in another intense American based tournament!’ 

Aside from giving honor to the Picquery name through the fame of a beater, you were related to Seraphina Picquery, who was one of the most popular presidents of MACUSA, also known as the Magical Congress of the United States of America, which was a big deal everywhere as she was president during the time where Newton Scamander, also known as Newt, began his journey in America, bringing both parties of the MACUSA and the British Ministry involved in a wild journey. 

You, yourself, had a wild journey as well as you emigrated to England at an unprecedented time, resulting in moving into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the middle of the school year. It was a very exciting yet scary time for you as the environment in Hogwarts was much different than Ilvermorny, which was your school in America. 

The only thing that made things vastly different in Hogwarts was how you, someone so blind to the norms and social standings of people in Hogwarts, ended up trying to befriend one of the most powerful and intimidating people as a way to make friends in your new school. After undergoing rough moments with that person, he unexpectedly fell for you, which was something neither you, him, or the entire school saw coming. This person was Draco Malfoy, and he was the fourth and last reason why you were going to be the talk of the town. 

--

Moving into a whole new school, let alone, a whole new country was something you just had not expected. You were having a normal life in Ilvermorny, which was in Massachusetts, USA, and it was so far the best time of your life. 

The people there were so comfortable with each other, the academics was a strong suit of yours, and being just like your father, you were a beater in your house’s quidditch team. People adored you as you were treated more like a celebrity of your own for being such a talented beater, rather than being a celebrity because you were the son of Lucas Picquery, legendary beater. This was the respect that you have always wanted from people.

During the Christmas break, you had the great advantage to head home, seeing your father and mother as they apparently had wonderful news to tell you. There was nothing better than coming home to see your wonderful parents, but adding wonderful news? Now, that is what people call a wonderful holiday. 

During the first dinner back at home with your parents, it was a quiet one. Usually there would be grand dinners and parties held at your home, celebrating your return from school or bringing in old friends to spend the holidays with, but this first night was just a night with you and your parents. It was a little odd for them not to have a massive party to share their news, but nevertheless, you did not question them, rather just waited patiently for them to share whatever they had in mind with you. 

“Son,” your father finally spoke as he was eating his dinner, “Would you finally like to know what the news is?”

“Sure thing, Dad.” 

“Well, your mother here has been selected to join the British Ministry of Magic’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a person to give such American perspective on the job.” he said, pointing at your mother who seemed most happy about the announcement, “And as for me, I’m going to give up my Quidditch coaching spot for awhile and take on a role in their Department of Magical Games and Sports which I could possibly get us hell of a good seat in every sports tournament they have.” 

You looked at your father with narrowed eyes, thinking you just understood that they have decided to take jobs in a country which was a thousand miles from where you were sitting. “I’m sorry, are you trying to say that you’re moving to England?”

“You mean ‘we’, which includes you, Y/N.” He nonchalantly said, taking another bite from his meal. 

You were still looking at your father with a serious look, opening your mouth, waiting for a more brief explanation from him, but he was busy enjoying the food your mother had prepared. “Um, that’s it? That’s all you’re going to say to me, pops? I have a life here already, dad, a sweet one. I’m a beater in my quidditch team, I have many friends who will miss me, and I love Ilvermorny! I can’t just drop in the middle of the school year and abruptly leave everything that has shaped me to become who I am today? Can’t you just leave me here alone for the remaining months of the school year? Besides ,it’s not like I’m going to be living alone if you leave me, I live in school! Plus, who knows, I could possibly catch up with you two in England for the next year in school!”

“Look kiddo,” he said, trying to make things easier, “We thought of every possibility concerning you and we feel like it would be best to bring you with us. Imagine if something horrible happened to either of us while we’re away? Please, son, you will love Hogwarts, it’s a respectable school, and they have a great quidditch team there as well.”

“Sweetie, do this for us, okay, hon?” you mother placed a hand on yours, holding it tightly as she looked at you with a supporting smile on her face, “We’re on the same boat as you, remember? You’re not alone.”

Few days after that night, you decided to accept fate and say goodbye to what a wonderful life America has given you as you and your parents travelled to England, settling in early while it was still a holiday for both Ilvermorny and Hogwarts. You were given choices, concerning where you would reside at the moment. It was either you moved straight to Hogwarts during the holiday, getting settled early and all, or moving when the holiday ended when the new term in Hogwarts eventually would fall on. 

This was something you had to deeply think about in order to not embarrass yourself as you moved in during the middle of the school year. If you moved during the holiday, that meant there were less people in school who would notice that there was a new face, entering the school, looking like a lost foolish soul at the time. This also meant that you had more time to settle in and be as far away from your parents, the ones that just had to pull you from an amazing life you had, not that they had a choice. 

The other choice was to move during the new term, which meant spending the last of the holiday with your parents. It would be nice to compose your nerves in a place where you had familiar faces with. Being with people you know and love with your heart before moving to a place where you didn’t know anyone was something to consider. 

In the end, you chose the first option, which was the move during the holidays. Upon your request, you parents had asked Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, to consider giving a warm welcome to you by NOT announcing the arrival of a new student in the middle of the school year. Since Dumbledore was someone who loved welcoming students his way, he decided to agree with your request, but adding a simple edit by having the professors lightly introduce you to your classmates in the most nonchalant way they could think of. 

As you were sitting alone by one of the carts of Hogwarts Express, you started seeing the famous castle coming by. The nerves that had come out of nowhere had started entering your veins, bringing fear and nervousness as you were trying to think of the many ways of how to seem nonchalant about entering the school. 

Obviously you didn’t want to be that one person moving in with countless baggage as if you were a new student, which you were, but you couldn’t do anything! When the express train had finally come to a stop, you were greeted by a boy, about your age wearing a black and green robe, but the platinum blonde color of his hair was the first thing that you had noticed about him. Apart from this, he was standing next to this huge giant with a thick and long beard that could be used to catch food crumbs if he had any. 

Stepping out of the train, you slowly took a few steps towards the two people who were awaiting for you. 

“Uh, hello there, my name is Y/N Picquely. I’m the new student from Ilvermorny.” you greeted, trying to sound as calm as ever, but the nerves in your voice made that slightly hard for you. 

The platinum blonde boy looked at you, up and down, judging you based on your appearance with an emotionless look on his face. He brought out his hand, “Of course you are.” he sarcastically said, “The names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and apparently I’ve been assigned to help you around ‘discretely’ since you have been placed Slytherin, which is now your new house, the best house, so I expect that you show great pride in it.”

You extended your hand, shaking him with a confused look as the giant nudged Draco in the shoulder, “Ye shouldn’t be too harsh to the newcomer, Malfoy,” he pleaded. Then he sympathetically turned to you, looking at you with a tired smile, “I’m Hagrid. I’m the grounds keeper of Hogwarts.” He waved. 

You gave Hagrid a more calmer look, sensing that he was more comfortable to be around with compared to Draco Malfoy, who was a student in your year. As you were walking side by side with Draco, Hagrid followed from behind, bringing your luggage with him. 

“So,” Hargrid  spoke again, “You must hear this often but uh, I’m a fan of your father.” he shyly said. 

“Wow, thanks,” you replied, “I didn’t know he was popular here in England.” you were surprised. 

“Course he is,” Draco heartlessly added, “But don’t think he’s the only beater we praise here. We too, have many excellent beaters that are born and represent England. We have Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies, Dawn Withey and Indira Choudry from the English National Team, Joey Jenkins from Chudley Cannons, heck even the Broadmoors from the Falmouth Falcons!”

“That’s awesome,” you kindly told Draco, “I bet you have amazing beaters here in school too. I used to play back in Ilvermorny.” 

“Well, don’t expect to be treated like a star here as well, Picquery. The slots for our team are full and besides, I doubt you can avail a slot now, we already filled every vacant slot during the first month of the school year, when you weren’t here yet.” 

“Malfoy…” Hagrid whispered from the back, warning Draco of his behavior. 

Sadly, Hagrid wasn’t the best in keeping things silent, which meant that you too, could hear the tone Hagrid had given towards Draco. Still, this didn’t bother you from trying to be friends with Draco. To you, he seemed like someone you could still try to be friends with. He seemed like the person that just had to thaw out first. 

After being uselessly warned, Draco rolled his eyes at himself as he brought his hand up, presenting you Hogwarts as the three of you had arrived at the castle door. “Welcome to your new home, I suppose.”

Draco seemed as if he was about to rush away from you and Hagrid but luckily, you walked towards him as he was about to open the castle doors, “Is this it for you?”

“I’m sorry,” he sarcastically said, “Did you expect me to give you a full tour? I thought you wanted things to be discrete? Besides, I have to attend to better things.”

Stunned, this left Draco scoffing and saying, “That’s what I thought.” then turned around, opening the doors widely and turning right, to make his way wherever, somewhere far away from you. 

Hagrid seemed sorry for you and placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to turn around to see that the giant gave another sympathetic look. “I’d like to apologize on his behalf. He’s always been like that since his first year. He’s just cold that way.”

“That’s alright, Hagrid. It’ll take time for me to get to know him better.”

“You? You want to be friends with Malfoy?”

“I don’t see why not?”

“Look, kiddo. I rather have you not be friends with him. Heck, I rather have Professor Dumbledore change your house. Don’t get me wrong, Slytherin is a fine house, but Malfoy OWNS Slytherin. It’s best if you don’t engage with him, or else he could turn the whole house on ya! I suggest you find some other friends in yer house.”

“He doesn’t scare me, Hagrid. I’d like to think of him as a stone cold ice cube that can be thawed out, showing his true colors once he’s all melted and cooled out.” 

“Aye, if that’s what you truly want to believe,” Hagrid shook his head, “I wish ya the best. Now come, let’s get this baggage of yours to your common room.” 

With Hagrid guiding you around the castle, you were looking left, right, up, and down as you were observing and analyzing everything around you. The interior and exterior of Hogwarts was quite different but at the same time somehow similar to Ilvermorny. 

Ilvermorny was like the tinier version of Hogwarts and growing up in a much smaller school made Hogwarts feel like a big deal to you. The design and structure of everything in this school was much older and felt like it’s been through a lot over the years. 

People here were much different compared to your old school. Sure, Ilvermorny was proper too, but it was more lively and laid back in your old school and seeing that these people act more well-maintained and formal made you a little uneasy. Would you have to act the same as them? 

It was really hard to think about it, especially when Hagrid finally made a stop in front of a door. You looked at him, expecting him to open the door and keep moving but he seemed like this was his final point. “I suppose you can’t enter here?” you asked, having a hunch. 

“Only if necessary but in this case, I’m done for now,” he replied, handing you your luggage carefully, “This is your common room. Inside, you’ll find your dorm. It’s most likely you won’t be alone in there, there’s still some students staying over. Make sure to make friends with ‘em, okay?”

“I sure will try,” you smiled, “See you around, Hagrid.” 

Hagrid gave you a warm smile and turned around, leaving you alone in the entrance of the common room. Not one second after that did you realize that you forgot that every common room, whether you’re in Ilvermorny or Hogwarts, had a secret verbal password for each house to use when entering the room. 

Hoping that Hagrid was still walking around near you, you turned around, seeing that he surprisingly wasn’t around the halls anymore, as if he took a quick turn to who knows where. You sighed, feeling like the most idiotic person alive in the castle right now. 

There was nobody around the halls at the moment and the urge of unpacking and hiding in your dorm for the rest of your winter break was much needed so what you did was bring your luggage with you and walk around the castle, hoping to find a room filled with people to help you. 

There were open doors nearby and seeing that there was light and a low volume of voices inside, you rushed forward, praying that you weren’t going insane. As you made it to the entrance of the open doors, a sigh of relief came from your mouth as you faced a good number of students to help you out. 

Most of them were either having a meal, playing chess, or simply conversing with each other. You could have gone to any of these people but unfortunately from their body languages, it seemed as if they either wanted to use their time doing anything but help a helpless soul, or from the few looks people would give you, it seemed that they instantly identified you as the Picquery son of Lucas Picquery. 

Internally groaning at yourself, you shyly and slowly made your way to your house table, walking forward to someone you could hardly miss as his platinum blonde hair stood out among the many around the room. 

Draco Malfoy was having a comfortable time, he seemed to be talking lightly with his fellow friends who seemed to be quite close with each other as there was a girl, clinging onto another girl as if they were best friends, two boys sitting closely together silently and uncomfortably, and a boy, talking to Draco as if he was so tired of him today. 

Before even tapping on Draco’s shoulder, all their eyes except Draco’s were on you. It caused Draco to stop talking seeing that his friends brought their attention to someone behind him. Eager to find out who stole his spotlight, he turned around with an irritated look, his eyes now on you. 

You stood there, soon to be frozen as Draco and his group gave an unfriendly energy on you as there was nothing but cold looks looking at you. “Forgot to give me a tip on my excellent tour guiding, Picquery? I’ll have you know that I too come from a wealthy family, haven’t you heard?” 

His friends started laughing but although some sounded like they were forcing themselves to laugh, you still shyly shook your head, “Uh, no, well yes I mean, I have heard of some good family names here, I didn’t mean to tip you if that’s what you thought.”

“Well then, off you go,” Draco snickered. 

“I would love to, but uh, Hagrid seemed to have forgotten to give me the password for the common room and I was hoping you could come with me and show me to my dorm.” 

“Don’t need to, the password is Viridi,” he whispered, “Your dorm should be the second room to the left, now off you go,” he waved, motioning for you to leave as his friends started snickering with him. 

You gave a faint smile at him and turned around, muttering to yourself how much of an embarrassment you are to the Picquery name. As you were making your way back to the common room, your spirits were still high up in the air as you were still eager to befriend Draco Malfoy. 

He was just a very thick ice that you had to use all your efforts in melting. 

When you arrived at the common room door, you said, ‘Viridi,’ which you knew meant Green in Latin, then arrived to see a very Slytherin-like common room. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs. 

The common room is a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs. This dungeon extends partway under the lake, giving the light in the room a green tinge. The common room has lots of low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas; skulls; and dark wood cupboards. One of the wooden tables has a Wizard's Chess set on it. It is decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins. It has quite a grand atmosphere, but also quite a cold one.

As you were walking across the common room, a girl who was eyeing you from the minute you entered the common room and looked at its interior, stood up from her seat on the couch and rushed, making her way to you as she offered you a wave and smile. “Hello, are you the son of Lucas Picquery?”

“Unfortunately, I am.”

“I honestly don’t know what’s so unfortunate about that but we can get to that later. I’m Astoria Greengrass, a year below you.”

“How do you know that I’m a year above you?”

“Well, I did my research the minute I heard from my father that he was having a new co-worker in the Ministry and I overheard Draco talking about you with my sister and his other friends in the Great Hall before I came up here.”

“He’s hardly a nice fellow to most, isn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s Draco.

“It’s a shame though concerning Draco, I’m quite eager to befriend him.”

“I see,” she said, sounding surprised, “Well, I wish you all the best with that. Come let me show you to your dorm-”

“This is the second time I heard someone wish me the best when it came to befriending Draco,” you stopped her, “Why?” 

Astoria looked around, hoping that you had not caught the attention of the few Slytherins around the room and placed a hand on your arm, “Let’s go to your dorm first, shall we?” Then she started leading you to your dorm. 

As you arrived, you placed your luggage on the empty and clean bed that was located in the middle as Astoria took a seat on a desk, sitting down properly as she tried giving you a smile. “So,” she said. 

“So,” you repeated after her. 

“You’ve got a lot of bravery like a Gryffindor for wanting to be friends with Draco Malfoy.” 

“Is it because he ‘OWNS’ Slytherin?” you said, remembering what Hagrid told you. 

“Possibly, but he’s just all around your typical bad boy. I don’t really see you hanging out with him, to be honest. You seem like such a sweet soul, Y/N. Nice guys don’t hang around guys like Draco Malfoy, I’m being honest with you.”

“I still would like to try though.”

“Why? Why him?”

There was a pause before responding to that question. You could have easily answered this, but you stood up, leaning on the wall near your bed as you sighed, “Because I don’t think he’s a bad guy on the inside. I think there’s good in him, and I wanna be that person to bring it out of him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, plus he seems pretty.” you joked, earning a surprised laugh from Astoria as she stood up, walking towards you to place a hand on your shoulder. 

“You know, your door is open, you’re lucky most of the people here are at the Hall right now.” she laughed, “You know, Y/N, I think I’d love to help you out with this. You seem like a great person and I would like to be on your side.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “There’s a party at Ravenclaw's later, eight in the evening. Usually Draco’s gang mocks the Ravenclaw’s and their parties, but we’ve been hearing that it’s going to be an actual blast. Why don’t you try inviting him to the party? I can help you mingle with him from there on, yeah?

“Sure,” you said. 

Astoria patted you on the back, “It’s getting late, you should probably start unpacking and head out for dinner later, okay?”

Nodding in response, she waved goodbye and went back to her dorm, leaving you all by yourself. As you were unpacking, the excitement of Astoria still lingered on your mind, creating a much more enthusiastic energy in yourself as there was more confidence in you. 

You didn’t expect having a friend help you out on this but you were extremely grateful that you had extra help to support you in becoming friends with Draco Malfoy. This was going to be much easier since you had someone on your side. 

--

Later on that night when you were finally done packing, you put on a jumper since it was getting chillier at the time. Seeing that you were ready to go, you left your dorm, making your way out of the common room to the Great Hall. 

On your way to the Great Hall, there were some people who were looking at you, whispering to each other as their eyes were on you. You already knew that they were talking about you and how you were the son of the famous Picquery that had come to England all the way from America. 

Some couldn’t contain their excitement as three people in red robes, which you assumed were the Gryffindor robes, turned around and walked towards you. Two of them seemed so uncomfortable, not because of you, but their friend in the middle who seemed so excited. 

“Blimey, you’re Y/N Picquery! Son of Lucas Picuqery! Could I have your autograph and possibly a hello from your father?” the ginger-haired boy said so quickly that the girl with curly hair smacked him in the head with a newspaper that she was holding and said, “Could you be anymore irritating?” Then she looked at you with a sad smile, “We are very sorry about him, he’s just a big fan of quidditch and all.”

“That’s alright, I’ve dealt with worse before and this is nothing compared to it.” you laughed, causing the three to laugh with you. 

“So, may I have your autograph?” the ginger cheekily smiled as he was ignoring the cold stare the girl was giving him. 

“I honestly don’t know why you’d like mine when I could give you my dad’s, who’s the real star,” you smiled at the boy who seemed like he was about to explode of happiness. 

“Bloody hell, you would do that for me?!” 

“Of course, but don’t expect it to come in a jiffy, he’s all the way in the Ministry with my mom.”

“Of course, of course, of course, I’ll wait patiently!” he jumped, “Thank you so so so much!”  

“Well, excellent!” the other boy said, trying to end the conversation for his friend. He gave the girl a look, motioning for her to drag their friend away, which she nodded to. 

Before anything else happened the girl turned him around and offered you a small nod, “Thank you for tolerating him, see you around Y/N.” 

With that, you continued your walk to the Great Hall, ignoring the other whispers and stares that people around the corridors were giving you. 

As you arrived at the Great Hall, you immediately saw a hand waving at you from the Slytherin table. It was Astoria Greengrass, the first friend you had made today. She was sitting with a girl who looked like her, it must have been her sister. Sitting with them was Draco and the rest of his gang. 

You looked at Astoria with wide eyes, but she still waved at you, giving you an expression that you would be fine. Gulping, you casually yet terrifyingly walked towards the group as they started giving you a much warmer look that the one they gave earlier. 

“Ah,” Draco spoke, “I hear we have a guest sitting with us here today.” Then he turned around and looked at you. “Without your little friend Astoria here, you probably wouldn't even be sitting with us, am I correct?”

“Don’t be silly, Draco,” Astoria warned him, “Why don’t we welcome him, afterall, he’s a Slytherin just like us! Not to mention a pureblood, eh?” She tried sounding persuasive but she ended up sounding a little childish. 

Nevertheless, Draco coldy motioned you to sit with them, securing a spot beside Astoria, who was beside Draco. You kindly sat beside your friend as Draco looked at you with such snobbiness. “I suppose you’d like a hamburger, or a hotdog, or whatever you Americans eat.” he joked, gaining laughs from his friends except Astoria who had gotten an elf to snap his fingers, giving you a turkey leg and mashed potatoes. 

“A turkey would be fine, it’ll be a blast eating your kind of food. And speaking of blast, are you going to the Ravenclaw’s later? I’d really love it if you came.” 

His friends looked at you, then at Draco, trying to contain their laughter as they had just witnessed the newcomer invite Draco to a party as if it was Draco’s first party to ever attend. Draco peeked, looking at you with a scoff and said, “Are you a Ravenclaw because you just sounded like you own the party and happened to have just invited me. Pff.”

“No,” you shook your head nervously, “I just thought the party would be a great place for me to get to know you, and everyone else.”

Draco scoffed again, surprised by the audacity you had, “I’ll be there,” and there was happiness in your face only until he said, “Not because of you, but because I already planned on going.” then he pointed at you while you were not looking anymore and mounted, “Is he serious?” to his friends in front of him. 

Astoria sympathetically whispered to you, “At least he’s going!” which made you smile back at her. 

--

It was ten minutes to eight in the evening but Astoria had already pounded on your dorm door, asking for you as your two other roommates looked at you, expecting you to open the door. Slightly embarrassed, you rushed to the door to see that Astoria was already prepared while you just buttoned on your dress shirt. 

“Come on already, you snail!”

“Is it a British thing to be early or something, because the party doesn’t start for another ten minutes!”

“Not really, you fool, but it would be better to get yourself acquainted with some Ravenclaws first. They are the hosts after all.”

“Mm okay,” you said, putting on your jacket. 

Astoria dragged you out of the common room forcefully, bringing you over to a new side of the castle which you have not made yourself familiar with. You and Astoria were at the west side of the castle as she had brought you up to a spiral tower, which she said led to the Ravenclaw common room. 

The common room of the Slytherin and the Ravenclaws were much more different. Already speaking about the location, the Slytherins were based in the dungeons, which were underground, compared to the Ravenclaws who were high above the rest of the other rooms in the castle. 

Arriving at the common room, there were already people filling up the room. This wasn’t just the Ravenclaws filling up the room, according to Astoria there were already people she knew from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor that already were there before the two of you. 

You agreed with that when you saw the same three people that encountered you on your way to the Great Hall. The ginger-haired boy waved at you with a facial expression as if his dream came true and that he had heart eyes all over you. He was brought back to reality when the same girl beside him knocked some sense into him with a book that came from one of the Ravenclaw shelves. The boy beside him just laughed as he gave you a friendly nod which you gave back. 

Astoria then led you to a group of Ravenclaws who were hanging by one of their book shelves having an early drink of punch already. “Y/N,” she said nicely, “This is Carol Bletchley, she’s a pure-blood friend of mine and one of the hosts of the party.”

 The girl’s hair seemed like it had the same color as the girl who had knocked some sense into the ginger-haired boy, but this girl’s hair was much straighter. She gave a big smile as she extended her hand for a hand-shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Y/N Picquery,” she welcomed you as you shook her hand, “Everyone has been talking about you ever since you arrived.”

“And to think I was hoping for a discrete entrance into this school,” you shyly joked.

“Nonsense!” a boy who looked like her said, “Surely you had somewhat of a discrete entrance but a certain fan of yours apparently couldn’t stop talking about you. Something about getting your father’s autograph.” Which made you look up to see that the ginger-haired boy was bringing up a newspaper about your father being on the headline, it was an old quidditch one, which you do not want to question how he still had that. 

“Raphael Bletchley, I’m Carol’s younger brother.”

“Nice to meet you, Raphael.” 

His eyes were now drawn to something, or someone behind you as he said, “Oh wow, we have a face we haven’t seen in a long time in our parties.”

Turning around, you saw Draco Malfoy grabbing a glass of punch from the side as he was accompanied by his gang who had started to split up, leaving Draco with his two friends who acted as if they were body-guards. 

“I thought Draco usually came to these parties, no?

“Came, yes,” Carol said, “But to actually stay? Hardly.”

“What do you mean?”

“He would usually come to check the party out and tell us how much of a nerdy or boring party we have.”

“Oh,” you said, “Excuse me.” you told them. You looked at Astoria who already knew that you were going straight to Draco. She gave you an encouraging nod and patted you on the back which made you start walking again. 

“Hi, Draco.” you cheerfully yet shyly said, “I hear this is a first for you.”

“A first for what, Picquery?” he looked at you with a judging attitude and look. 

“I hear you usually mock these parties and leave afterwards. What made you decide to linger around?”

“How are you hearing so much about me and wanting to know more about me? This is only for the first day and you already are going way out of line, Picquery.”

“I don’t think I am, Draco, I just want to be friends with you.”

“Why me of all people? Why don’t you play with little Astoria over there.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being friends with you too, Draco.”

“There is, because I don’t want to be friends with you.”

“Is there a-”

“Can you just FUCK OFF already, Picquery!”

Draco’s snap had gotten the attention of everyone in the entire room, especially the hosts who were about to walk towards you and have Draco escorted out. But Draco wasn’t finished. 

“I don’t give a damn if you're the son of Lucas Picquery, alright? Just because you're famous does not mean you can get any friend you want. I don’t think you have half the talent your father has on the field. I am NOT your friend and I will NEVER be, okay? Bloody hell, this is your first day and you’re already making a fool out of yourself and out of me. I suggest you get the hell away from me now or else your puny reputation turns into shambles.”

Raphael rushed to the middle of the scene and grabbed a hold of Draco, whispering that it was time for him to go. As Draco refused to leave, squirming, “I have the right to be here, Bletchley, you don’t want my father to hear about this.” 

“He’s right,” you entered their small conversation, “He has the right to be here, Raphael. We don’t want him to cause any more unfortunate events by contacting his father. This whole situation is my fault, everyone, I’ll be the one to leave.”

“Y/N, no, please.” Astoria said, rushing towards you. 

“It’s nothing to worry about, Astoria.” then you looked at Draco and everyone else, “Have a great party, I hope this small situation didn’t kill the party. Rock on, guys.” you gave a sad smile as you walked past by Draco and the rest of the party-goers as you exited the common room of the Ravenclaws. 

--

The party was something you didn’t want to think about. It might have ruined a little bit of your reputation but your reputation was something you didn’t care about anyways. 

The moment you got back from the party, you headed straight to your dorm because you had nowhere else to go since you didn’t know the way to different parts of the castle yet. It would have been better to see Hagrid if you knew where he stayed so you could just live there forever until everyone else had graduated off from Hogwarts. 

Despite having a lot on your mind, you managed to sleep through all your troubles, ignoring the whispers your two roommates were sharing as they had found out what had happened between the son of a famous beater and the Slytherin prince. 

You woke up to them already out of their beds, having it made. When they had seen that you had woken up, they gave you a small smile and tried going back to focusing on making their bed. But you wanted to yank the truth out of them. 

“You know, don’t you?” you asked. 

The two of them looked unsure, hoping the other would be the one to talk but they were still playing their staring game, mentally making each other be the one to reply. You were tired of waiting for a response and waved it away, “It’s alright, of course you do.”

“We’re sorry to hear about it,” they both said at the same time, then looked at each other with a surprise. Then the one to the left of your bed said, “I suppose you haven’t heard about the good news for you?”

“I have good news? What could be good news, my father and mother getting demoted so we could go back to America? Please?” you sarcastically asked. 

“Outrageous, you are, Picquery. Americans.” he said. 

The one to the right of your bed shook his head, “Vincent Crabbe sprained his arm last night, the night of the party.”

“I don’t know who that is, so why should that be good news for me?” you confusingly asked. 

“Because he was a Slytherin beater, well until he sprained his arm.”

“Try-outs for the next Slytherin beater are later this afternoon.” the person to your left added. 

“Awesome,” you said, “I guess I could try out.” you shrugged. 

“Don’t guess, you WILL, Y/N!” said a feminine voice behind you. 

You turned to see Astoria Greengrass who looked at you with a soft smile as she opened her arms for a big hug that she was waiting for. You got out of bed and rushed to hug her and lift her up as she yelped and laughed. “Alright, put me down, Picquery.” she begged and when she was placed down, she looked at you with careful eyes, “I hope you haven’t given up on being friends with him.”

Ah, lovely to bring back some thoughts you thought you could sleep on forever. You sighed, scratching the back of your neck, “You know I’m surprised I didn’t cry or anything, what he said was really hurtful to be honest.”

“Oh, Draco’s like that. Besides, you’re a Picquery, you have the biggest and strongest heart I know. Trust me, you shouldn’t give up, and you should show everyone your place by earning that beater spot.”

“I guess I could. Besides, it could be a walk in the park.” you joked, only for her to nudge you on the shoulder. 

“You’re in the right house, Picquery, you’re in the right house,” she patted you on the shoulder, “Now, get dressed, I have snacks we can devour by the quidditch field. I want you to practice first before the try-outs.”

You nodded, turning around as Astoria closed the dorm and ran back to the common room to grab the snacks and extra quidditch uniform she had gotten a hold of. 

--

Back in the Great Hall, Draco was having a quiet breakfast with his gang. With Crabbe having a sprained ankle, it made his gang look miserable and weak, annoying the hell out of him. But what got him really annoyed was a single thought on his mind, swimming and swimming around his mind. That single thought was you. 

He had dealt with many cases of lashing out and snapping at someone, but your case was really different. All you had wanted to do was be friends with him. He was too proud to accept the fact that there was someone who could have been his fresh start. Someone who had not fully known or witnessed the terrible things he has done in order to call him nasty things with or without him being there to hear it. 

The many other situations he had placed on himself or stumbled upon never involved something nice or friendly being attempted. He was always used to receiving hate that he wanted to give back the same thing he had received. But this was the first time he had received actual niceness and warmth from a person that he was routined to give back the thing he usually was given, which was hate or negativity. 

Draco had screwed up entirely and wondered why he decided to act terribly in front of someone like you. Sure, he was surprised to see that the son of someone famous wasn’t a snob like him, but he still decided to treat you the same way he treats Harry. He had many reasons to treat you badly but now, thinking about it made him ask himself truly why he had done this to you, and there was not a single real reason why. It all led up to nonsense that he was just making up at the moment. He felt like a clown, and didn’t know what to do. 

Blaise saw the way he sulked and had a hunch it was about you. He decided to stop reading from his newspaper and settle things straight with Draco. “Malfoy, sulking about him?” 

Draco looked at Blaise with a cold stare since Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Daphne had stopped eating and conversing to listen in to the conversation. It was useless to build-up his guard and deny everything. So Draco sighed, and embarrassingly nodded. “So what, Blaise? Do you really give a damn?”

“I do, Draco. You’re my friend.”

“Pff,” Draco scoffed. 

“Malfoy, I know you can be vile,” he said, which Draco looked at him with a deadly stare, making Blaise raise his hands up, “But why be so vile to the guy? He’s been nothing but nice to you.”

“I don't know Zabini, alright! Maybe I felt an emotion.” Draco stood up, getting tired of the questions as he knew there would be more after this, “I’m going to support the team and head over to the field. You coming?”

Blaise and the rest stood up, “Course we are mate, bet he’s going to be there so we’re just hoping either of you talk to each other.”

“Merlin’s beard,” Draco muttered as he rolled his eyes. 

-- 

After a solid practice with Astoria, nothing felt better than going back on the field. Your muscle memory was still intact, giving you the same feeling as if you were back in Ilvermorny, practicing and giving your best in the field. 

As people started coming by to watch, you spotted Draco, who had also had his eyes on you. You flew down to the bleachers to walk towards Astoria as she had spotted your uncomfortable look. She looked left, then right, to see that Draco and his gang were making their way to the bleachers as well. 

“Apart from being in the same house, why the hell is he here?” you asked her. 

“He’s supporting his team. He’s our seeker,” she replied, “But he shouldn’t matter. This is your time, alright?”

You nodded, looking back at Marcus Flint, who Astoria told you was the captain of the team. Great, you thought, if you got in, you’d be training with someone who had hurt your feelings on the first day of your life in Hogwarts. 

You flew back to the field, meeting Marcus and the other Slytherins, trying out for beater “Right,” Marcus said, gathering everyone, “There’s three of you, but only one spot, yeah? I expect a good play despite it being only try-outs. You all are familiar with the rules, so I also expect a fair audition. Good luck to you three and may the best beater beat the rest.” Then he flew up high, which got everyone cheering as the rest of the Slytherin quidditch players came out to be part of the game. 

You flew up to the side of the field, muttering small prayers as you were trying to get yourself in the game. Draco’s eyes were all on you as he was observing the way you were trying to ready yourself. ‘A true Slytherin,’ he thought when he was watching you. 

When Marcus had signalled that the game started, you flew to the center of the field, aiming your bludger to one of the two other beaters that auditioned. 

One of them already thought of your idea and surprised the other beater, hitting his bludger with his bat as the beater who was supposed to try and knock you out, got knocked off himself as he fell onto the field. 

“Out!” Marcus Flint said, pointing at the boy, “Sorry, mate. Off you go,” he rushed him, getting back the game. 

Your team was still in the lead as the chasers helped score some points, helping you out as they knew you needed some time to figure out your next plan. 

‘Forget the other beater,’ you thought, ‘and knock out the enemy chasers first, that way the only way they can try scoring is by knocking me out,’ then you flew up, ignoring the other beater that had mocked the beater who fell down. 

You spotted an available chaser who was holding a quaffle closely to their side. This was your opportunity, so, before the round had ended, you lifted your bludger and whacked it forcefully towards the enemy chaser. 

Just before the chaser could have been knocked off his broom, the beater you had forgotten about for a second illegally flew to the chaser and bumped him, having your bludger aim at the beater who prepared to use his body as shield. 

What the beater didn’t know was that the bludger he shielded his chaser from backfired, hitting you in the face which caused you to fall off your broom. It knocked the lights out of you as you fell onto the field, not feeling the pain when your body hit the ground as you were already out the moment the bludger gave an impact on your head. 

There were boos towards the other beater and scared voices watching your lifeless body on the ground. Astoria wasn’t even the first to get down from the bleachers as Draco chanted ‘Accio broomstick’ from the broomstick of the beater’s broom, causing him to slip off to the ground. With a grunt, Draco flew quickly to your side even before Marcus could come over. 

“Fuck, Y/N, that’s a nasty bump on your head.” Draco muttered to himself as he jumped off the broomstick to lay a hand on the back of your neck, getting your head in an elevated position. After a few seconds, your eyes opened slowly, groaning at the pain as you tried sitting up straight. But a force was stopping you. 

“Hold on there, jumpy,” said a voice. 

Your eyes darted to the person to your side. It wasn’t Astoria. It was Draco Malfoy. “The hell are you doing here, Malfoy?” you asked, placing a hand on your forehead. 

“Are you alright, Piquery? How’s the pain? What’s seven times five? How many fingers can you see? He asked, raising his hand. 

“The question is,” you said, holding up a middle finger, “How many fingers can you see?” 

“Alright, alright, you’re fine.” Draco let out a small laugh. Marcus finally came by, extending a hand, “Up you go, Picquery. That was quite some show I had. Not to mention your father’s signature hit?” he joked, “That beater? Josiah Blishwick? Definitely out of the audition. You, on the other hand, you got the role.”

“Fantastic,” you admitted, “Thank you, Marcus.”

Marcus gave a small nod and walked away. Josiah Blishwick walked towards you and Draco, giving a small sad look. 

Draco looked at him with a deadly glare as he brought his wand up, “Expelliarmus!” he said, causing the boy’s wand to fly away. “The hell, Malfoy! I was only here to apologize.”

“Better apologize some other time, Bitchwick. I’m not in the mood.” Draco growled. Josiah nervously turned around, running off as Draco yelled, “You’re broomstick is in the bleachers, get it a potential house elf you are!” then laughed at himself, looking back at you, who was still not laughing with him. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that, anything of this.” you rolled your eyes, walking away. You were completely done with Draco. Why be so nice all of a sudden? Not buying that bullshit. 

Before you could get away from Draco completely, he said from behind, “You didn’t have to.”

You turned around, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 

Draco jogged towards you, “Look, I’m sorry Picqu- Y/N, alright? I was such a twit. I deserve to rot in Azkaban for giving you such a horrible welcome. All you did was just to be friends with me, but I was just the absolute worse and you may never forgive me, but I just wanted you to hear this, ‘I like you, and if you’re up to still being friends with me still, I’ll be the happiest lad in all of England.’ But if it’s not enough, I suppose I can step into your shoes and go through the agony of what I have done to you, if you were pleased with that.”

You crossed your arms, smirking, “You’d do that?” 

“Merlin’s beard, I said that didn’t I?” 

“Fine,” you agreed, “Let’s start tomorrow with switching places.” 

“So, technically this won’t count, would it?” 

Before you could ask what wouldn’t count, Draco walked towards you, cupped your cheeks and planted a quick yet soft kiss on your lips, enjoying the short time he gave himself. A smile grew on his face, then into a smirk when he saw how puzzled and surprised you were. 

“N-no,” you shook your head, “I suppose that wouldn’t count.” 

“Good, then maybe you can expect to encounter more until we switch places.” 

“M-maybe we can practice some switching of places later, hm?” you said, catching him off guard. Your cheeks grew red, so you got a hold of your broom and flew out of the quidditch field, muttering to yourself, “Smooth, Y/N, real smooth.”

So perhaps aside from being a Picquery, dating someone who was a Malfoy would be the talk of the town for more than you could expect. 

[drawlfoy]

Accio Malfoy

masterlist request guidelines (please read if you request!) requests are open!

stole the gif from @dracomalfoyedit so give them creds for draco’s pretty face

pairing: draco x slytherintransfer!reader

request: yes! you know who you are :)

summary: reader transfers into hogwarts and is sorted into slytherin. draco malfoy is the bane of her existence until suddenly he’s not

warnings: language because uh...you know who i am haha

a/n: i’m a little sorry for making this so similar to faux diplomacy, but honestly idk if i’m ever gonna finish that one and if i do it’s gonna be way different and way angstier. here’s something to hold my american/non uk readers off with until i get the next chapter of that out haha

music recs: the night we met - lord huron

word count: 5,293

tags! @accio-rogers @geeksareunique

Y/N had never felt as out of place as she did standing with the first years in the Great Hall, each of them eagerly awaiting their sorting. She easily had at least a foot on the tallest child there--but then again, they didn’t use feet here as a unit of measurement. They used...meters? Centimeters? She had no clue, but whatever it was, it was confusing. 

Yet another reason why she didn’t want to be at Hogwarts. Her father was so thrilled when he told her that they’d be moving to the UK for...well, the rest of her schooling. He’d forever thought that Ilvermorny lacked the intimate education she needed with thousands of students attending and jumped on the first job opening at the British Ministry of Magic. 

Was she mad? Yes, of course. She was already missing her friends terribly and felt so awkward standing with a bunch of children. Y/N didn’t have to look to know that everyone’s eyes were on her, wondering why there was an immensely overgrown 11 year old in their midst. 

But was she going to make the best out of it? Yeah, probably. 

A tall, elderly man with a scraggly white beard stepped up onto the podium, tapping his throat with his wand to amplify his speech. “Welcome back, fellow students of Hogwarts, and a very special welcome to our newest additions.” He tilted his head down to acknowledge the gaggle of children at his feet. “You all may notice that we have an especially interesting newcomer here tonight. Hogwarts is pleased to welcome its arms to our first Ilvermorny transfer student in over a century...a Miss Y/N Y/L/N!”

Grandly gesturing towards Y/N, he beamed down at her and and raised his free hand as if to request applause. The studentry obeyed, and soon the dining hall was filled with polite clapping that echoed.

The old man, who Y/N presumed to be the headmaster, spoke for a few more moments after, musing on the beauty of international connections and what it meant to be a gracious host. She heard it, but she wasn’t really listening. All she could think of was the sorting hat and what it was going to say. 

Back home, or at least what she used to call home, she was a Horned Serpent. She had no idea what that translated to at Hogwarts--perhaps she’d be a Ravenclaw? Or a Slytherin, she had heard about their unmatched ambition, but also their petulance. 

Y/N didn’t even realize that everyone was waiting on her until a kind first year tugged at her sleeve and pointed up at the podium. An older witch was standing there, holding the tattered and worn hat that had to have been the Sorting Hat.

“I said, please come up and be sorted, Y/N Y/L/N.” Her accent had a pleasing lilt that Y/N wasn’t expecting.

Fighting back a blush, she dipped her head and rushed onto the elevated platform, thanking Merlin that she didn’t trip on the way up. The witch motioned to the chair in front of her, and Y/N sat down, facing the sea of students.

Everyone watched in charged silence as the hat was lowered onto her head. An overwhelming smell of hickory and old leather overpowered her...but not much else was to be expected from a relic that was centuries old. 

Y/N waited for the Sorting Hat to make conversation like it was rumored to, but the second she felt it touch her hair, it made a decision.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Gasps filled the hall with the promptness of the sorting. Even the witch that had placed it on her head looked humored as Y/N got up and walked off, slightly dazed. 

She was guided towards a table with an abundance of green, choosing a seat near a black haired boy who didn’t look too threatening. He looked up as she slid onto the bench next to him, sending her a mischievous grin.

“Welcome to Slytherin. I’m Theodore Nott.”

<>

Y/N made quick friends with Theodore, or Theo, as he asked her to call him. He told her the ins and outs of the Slytherin lifestyle and told her the password for their common room.

“Why basilisk, though?” Y/N asked as they sat in the common room together. “Did something happen?”

He shrugged, a mysterious glint in his eye. “Long story. It happened a while back. There used to be a basilisk in Hogwarts, hidden somewhere far away.”

“I would hope.”

They were silent for a few moments as Y/N picked at her nail polish. 

“I’ll ask Daphne to show you to your room,” Theo finally said. “And we can sit next to each other for breakfast if you’d like. Slytherin doesn’t necessarily have the friendliest people.”

Y/N smiled gratefully as she watched him flag down a strawberry blonde girl who looked about their age. 

“Let me guess,” the girl said as she approached the two. “She needs someone to show her to her room?”

Theo opened his mouth, but Y/N beat him. “Yeah, is that alright?”

Daphne studied her for a few moments. Y/N could feel her passing judgements on her. 

“Yes, come with me,” she said after a bit, a vague expression on her face. “Say goodbye to Theo, though. He can’t come with us. We have wards, you know.”

“I assumed so.” 

Y/N stood, turning and waving a goodbye to Theo. Daphne took her by the arm and led her to the other side of the common room, down a few stairs, and to a tall, daunting looking black door. 

“You can’t bring guys in here,” she said lazily. “And on that note...”

She ushered Y/N inside, shutting the door behind them and glancing around the empty corridor they had entered. 

“Don’t even think about Theo.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Good, because he’s not into girls,” Daphne dutifully told her, knitting her eyebrows together. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?” 

Startled by the sudden abrasiveness, Y/N took a few steps back. “No, no, of course not. Thanks for telling me.”

Daphne’s face cracked a small smile. “I think you’ll fit in alright here, then. Just don’t mess with anyone...at least not anymore than you absolutely have to.”

Y/N grinned back. “Of course not.”

<>

The time difference sucked. Y/N had crashed the moment she had sat down on her bed the night before, but now it was 5 in the morning and she was wide awake. 

Swinging up over her bed, she noticed that her roommates, Millicent and Tracey, were both snoring softly in their blanket cocoons. She sighed, taking extra care to be quiet on her way out of the room. 

Theo had told her how the common room was open at all hours, just as long as you weren’t too rowdy. No one else would be up at 5am--it’d be absurd, so she was looking forward to writing letters to her friends in peace. 

The cold dungeon floor chilled the balls of her feet as she ascended the steps into the dark common room. The little light available was a soft green hue cast from the lake water on the windows. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if the sun had even peaked over the horizon yet. 

“What are you doing?” a male voice hissed from across the room. Y/N whipped around to see an unfamiliar looking blonde boy curled up on a dark green couch. His body faced the extinguished fireplace, but his head was turned to glare at her.

The dim lighting didn’t conceal his features, and Y/N was immediately stunned. The boy  was unusually pretty, with high, defined cheekbones and moonbeam blonde hair. His silver irises were so bright that the darkness did nothing to hide them.

“I know the academics at Ilvermorny aren’t stellar, but they at least taught you how to speak, right?”

Y/N flushed red, grateful for the low lighting as it helped hide her embarrassment. “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here so early.” 

The boy snorted, and Y/N took note of his cruel expression. Suddenly he seemed much less accessible. “Yeah, well, I am.” He stared at her, seemingly expecting her to do something.

Y/N took it as an invitation to walk over to his couch, sitting herself a healthy distance away from him. 

“I was actually hoping you’d leave me be.” He glowered at her from the other end of the couch.

“And what, let you brood all alone? As if,” she responded, hardly missing a beat. Y/N wasted no time in rolling out her parchment to write. “I have just as much privilege to be here as you.”

She could’ve sworn that she heard him huff, but he didn’t verbally protest, so there was a start. 

“You Americans really are pushy,” he sniggered after she had begun to write her first letter. 

“And you Brits really are entitled daddy’s boys, huh?”

That shut him up. 

“What’s your name, anyways?” Y/N paused long enough from her writing to look him in the eyes.

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” His tone was stiff and unnatural, like a 12 year old boy trying on a suit for the very first time. “It’s Malfoy to you, though.”

“Draco?” Y/N giggled. “Your parents must be...uh....interesting.”

He frowned. “Malfoy to you!”

“Okay, okay. Anything to keep you from getting your panties in a twist.”

Another glance at Draco confirmed that he was very, very, irritated. “Can’t you just go antagonize your roommates or something? I was here first.”

Y/N shrugged. There was no way she was going to be able to finish her writing the prick kept talking anyways. “Sure. Don’t worry though--I’ll be back, Draco.”

She chuckled to herself as she saw his features darken, his mood clearly souring before her eyes. Following her judgement, she scampered back to her dorm room to avoid being hexed.

<>

“I heard you met Malfoy, huh?” Theo asked Y/N, carefully buttering a piece of toast. 

“Yeah, he’s a real charmer,” she snorted. “Thinking he owns the whole common room and whatnot.”

“You’ve just got to stay out of his way,” Theo said. “I don’t think he’ll give you too much trouble. You are a Slytherin, after all. He’d have to be mental to waste energy going after one of his own.”

Y/N smirked at the thought as she pushed her eggs around the plate. As much as she hated to admit it, the food at Hogwarts wasn’t half bad. Meals felt much more intimate under the soft daylight, whereas at Ilvermorny bright fluorescent bulbs illuminated the room. 

She finished eating with Theo quickly and turned to her right to see a grumpy looking Millicent. 

“I heard you tossing and turning all night,” Millicent said. “If you make me spend another night listening to you, I’m killing you and throwing you into the lake.”

“You lot really are sweethearts,” Y/N responded absentmindedly, sipping her tea. “In all actuality, though, I’ll probably sleep better tonight. I’m sorry about that.”

Millicent visibly softened. “No, it’s alright. I know it must be hard and all...isn’t it nighttime in America?”

Y/N checked her watch, still ticking at the eastern timezone of the US.

“Yeah. All my friends are sleeping right now. I’m jealous.”

That earned a small laugh out of Millicent, prompting Y/N to smile back at her. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

<>

Y/N’s hopefulness soon diminished by her second period as she struggled to find her way to potions. 

“I thought you’d have an easier time finding the dungeons, you resembling a sewer rat and all.” A cold voice sounded to her right, and combined with the sudden rough push on her shoulder, she was surprised and yelped.

“A jumpy sewer rat too, huh?” Draco Malfoy raised an eyebrow and turned to keep walking.

“Hey!” Y/N’s hand darted out to snatch his sleeve. “Hey, Draco! Watch your mouth, buddy!” 

Yanking his arm out of her grasp, he sent her a glare that could cut through stone. “Malfoy. Not Draco.”

“That’s funny, because I specifically remember you telling me that your name was Draco.”

He was about to say something back, no doubt a threat, but another boy swooped in.

“C’mon, Y/N, he’s just teasing you,” Theo murmured, taking care to send Draco a disapproving look. “Don’t waste your time on him. Come hang out with me and Daphne.”

Y/N allowed herself to be pulled away to Theo’s group of friends, all the while still glaring at Draco. 

“Chill out, America,” Daphne said, waving her hand in front of Y/N’s face. “He’s not worth the energy. He’ll move on to someone else soon enough.”

“Whatever you say.” 

Theo and Daphne walked her down to Snape’s classroom, taking extra care to keep her out of Draco’s path. Y/N was lost in thought on her walk to Potions, riding a sea of conflicting emotions.

On one hand, she wanted to make sure she didn’t spend the rest of the year being harassed by a little rich boy. On the other...he was painfully attractive, and while it was shameful to admit, knowing that he was paying her mind made her blush and her heart race.

Y/N was, by no means, an attention whore, but she’d be lying to herself if she said that she wanted Draco to completely leave her alone. She was in a foreign country, after all, and British accents were, well, exceedingly hot. There was no fault in her wanting to have a little fun. 

Walking into the classroom, she was pleased to spot an empty table. Daphne and Theo took seats to her left, leaving an empty chair to her right. She allowed her thoughts to wander to places she shouldn’t have, shaking her head to clear her mind afterwards.

She was being ridiculous. Draco was not going to come over and sit with her just because there was one empty seat at her table. 

In that moment, Y/N felt as though she was catapulted back into her 3rd year, where she was a cringy boy obsessed mess. 

Chill, Y/N she thought to herself. Stop acting like a child.

Potions went on without a hitch. Y/N saw a flash of blonde hair in the corner of her eye, but she didn’t dare look. He didn’t come sit with her, so it wasn’t like looking in his direction would accomplish anything anyways. 

“Whoa, Y/N, they said unicorn tail, not unicorn horn,” Daphne said, yanking Y/N’s hand away from the cauldron. “Can you read?”

“Yeah, do they teach that in the slums where you’re from?” a familiar cold voice added from behind them. 

Y/N spun around to see an amused looking Draco sitting at the empty table behind them, propping his chin up with his palm. 

“If you’re going to insult me, can you at least come up with new content?” 

The side of his mouth quirked. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Y/N shrugged, tossing the shaved unicorn horn into the rubbish bin below her. “Fine, stay unoriginal. You bore me.”

Draco slunk out of his seat, retreating back to his rightful table.

“Give it roughly a week,” Theo told her sympathetically. “He’s a class A git, and then he gets bored, and then he forgets about you and doesn’t pay you any more mind.”

“But you’re not helping,” Daphne added, mincing some greengrass. “If you really want him to leave you alone, then stop engaging him. You’re making this fun for Malfoy by reacting to him.”

“I can handle myself,” said Y/N. “It seems like harmless fun, and plus, Draco can’t be that intolerable. He has friends.”

Theo paused from his chopping to look at her quizzically. “He has minions. And Parkinson, who you don’t want to associate with. The only thing Malfoy is good for is trouble and drama. I don’t think he has a kind bone in his body.”

“But he’s quick-witted and interesting. Don’t you two want to know more about him?” 

“No!” Theo and Daphne answered in unison. 

“Let me guess,” Daphne said, tipping her ingredients into the cauldron. “You think he’s hot.”

Y/N shrugged, her face burning. “I’m not blind.”

The witch offered her a sad smile, the most genuine expression she’d worn all day. “Be careful, then. I obviously can’t tell you what to do, and it’s not like it’d affect me much anyways, but between you and me, I wouldn’t go for him. Lots of girls like him, you know.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Y/N butted in. “You’re saying all of this like I expect something to happen. I’m just bored. I don’t expect anything to come out of this, and I don’t even know if I would want...that. I hardly know him, after all.”

Theo and Daphne both seemed satisfied with her answer. Y/N took advantage of the silence to add the untangled unicorn tail, watching as it turned the potion a milky blue. 

<>

Y/N spent the next few days acclimating to her new schedule and avoiding Draco (as per the request of Theo and Daphne). Classes at Hogwarts weren’t as spaced out as they were at Ilvermorny--there were just 3x as many stairs. She was by no means grossly out of shape, but jogging up and down the moving staircases proved to be a challenge. 

“Do they not have stairs in America either?”

Y/N didn’t even bother turning around to face the person who spoke to her on her way to Charms. She’d recognize that snotty voice anywhere. “If you don’t get new content, I’m pushing you down them.”

Draco snickered behind her. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

She decided to not entertain him for any longer, choosing to be silent. The staircase creaked its way over to the corridor they were heading, taking its sweet time.

The air was thick with electrified silence, and Y/N was struck with the thought that she had never seen Draco be so quiet for such a long period of time.

The staircase came to a sudden stop, lurching both students forward. Y/N fell flat on her face, her hands dangling over the top of the staircase into thin air. 

“What the fuck?” Y/N exclaimed, scooting back as to not fall over the edge. The staircase was now simply suspended in midair, neither parts touching the hallway entrances. 

She finally turned around to see Draco just once step down, sprawled out in a similar fashion. “It’s just something that happens every once and a while.” He was casual, seemingly unworried. “I’ve never personally witnessed it, though. They’re just due for maintenance.”

Y/N gaped at him.

“So they just let students on these things without checking if they’re maintained?”

Draco shrugged, getting up to his feet and gripping onto the railing. “To my understanding, they only need to be re-enchanted once every few centuries. I can hardly blame the administration.”

“So what do we do? Wait it out and be late for Charms?”

“Is that really the biggest of your worries?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, folding her knees up to her chest. “What, am I allotted only a certain number of concerns now? Is that how this is gonna be?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” he said, motioning over his shoulder. “It’s not like we can’t just jump off at the bottom of the stairs.”

Y/N stole a glance behind him and realized he was right. It would be a bit of a leap, but if they tried, they could make it to some random corridor she had never seen before. “I don’t think I can make that with my books, though, and I’m too afraid to levitate them over the edge.”

Draco seemed to ponder this for a bit. “Me neither. I can go first and leave my things with you, and then you can pass both our things over, and then I’ll help you across. With you having shorter legs and whatnot.”

Y/N fought back a bitter remark in response to his thoughts about her legs. 

“Yeah. We can try.”

<>

It took Y/N a bit to hype Draco up about the leap as the two stood overlooking the edge. 

“Don’t worry, you can totally make that,” she told him. “If you don’t, I swear I’ll try and levitate you back to safety. Or maybe I’ll Accio Draco or something. We’ll see.”

Draco snorted. “First of all, I’m offended that you don’t trust yourself enough to levitate your textbooks but feel perfectly fine levitating me. Second of all, it’s Accio Malfoy to you.”

“Accio Draco Malfoy,” Y/N corrected. “If I say Accio Malfoy, I’m being too vague. Any one of your family members could come flying at me, full force. We’d have some explaining to do.”

“No, you would, because I’d already be a splat on the ground below us.” 

Y/N laughed then, pleasantly surprised with his level of bantering. His own eyes twinkled as a few smile creases appeared around his face. 

“Nothing a little Dittany and pumpkin juice can’t fix,” she said cheerily. “Off you go.”

Draco steeled his face, any vulnerability disappearing. He shed his cloak and dropped his books on the ground, walking up a few extra steps to give him more speed. 

“Be careful, Draco,” she added, resting her weight against the staircase. “I’ll be even later to Charms if I have to track down a house elf to clean up a body on the base level.”

“Malfoy,” was the last thing he muttered before he jogged to the end of the staircase, gracefully leaping across the gap. Y/N’s breath caught for a split second, but he stuck the landing, spinning around to beam at her. 

 “Told you. Easy.”

“I literally never recall you saying that.”

He dramatically threw his hands up. “I put my life on the line, sacrifice my soul to save your textbooks and this is how you repay me?”

“I thought you said it was easy.” She cocked an eyebrow, smirking back at him. 

He stood there for a few moments, his features suddenly softening as he gazed at her. “Pass me my cloak and things. We haven’t got all day.”

Y/N obeyed, gathering up his things and separating them from hers. He had thrown his books so haphazardly that she was having a difficult time telling the difference between the two. She slung his cloak over her shoulder as she worked, opening the books and searching for names. Neither of their Potions books were marked up, much to her disappointment.

“Hurry up?” Draco’s voice was no longer as harsh as before, ending like a question instead of a command. 

“I’m going as fast as I can,” she told him. 

Before she could finish flipping through their textbooks--she knew she had written something somewhere--the staircase began screeching again. 

Y/N’s eyes shot up, meeting Draco’s. They looked just as confused as hers. 

The staircase began moving again, albeit much slower and wobblier than usual. 

“Y/N, you need to jump!” His voice was filled with an urgency Y/N had never heard from the boy before. 

“But my books...”

“Do it!”

Against her better judgment, she grabbed her satchel with her wand and stationary and leapt off the end of the staircase, praying that she had enough momentum to make it to Draco. 

A pale arm reached out and snatched her, pulling her the rest of the distance. Y/N hit the ground with ungraceful smack, pulling Draco down on top of her. 

“Are you alright?” 

Y/N opened her eyes to see Draco inches from her face, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He had very pretty eyes, and if she looked close enough, she could see the slightest hints of blue in his grey eyes. 

“My books,” she croaked. 

“You really should’ve been a Ravenclaw.” 

With that, Draco got off of her, sitting up against the wall and looking out at the staircase. Y/N followed suit, ignoring her aching body. 

She gasped as she saw what was in front of her--the staircase was rotating, turning upside down and throwing everything that had been on it to the ground.

“Maybe I should’ve just bit the bullet and levitated them anyways,” Y/N sighed, scooting a little closer to Draco, who laughed. 

“Don’t worry about it too much. I’m pretty sure the school will replace them free of charge...if that’s something you’re concerned about. This was their fault.”

Y/N decided to ignore the subtle financial reference. “Fair point. I’m just upset that I’m missing Charms.” 

Draco bumped her with his shoulder. “I’m not. This was way more entertaining than that blasted class would ever be.”

“I’m touched.”

“No, really, I guess they do teach you how to banter at Ilvermorny.”

“No.” Y/N smiled. “I’m just a natural talent.”

“That you are.”

Draco looked into her eyes for a few moments before snapping out of it. “We should go back to the dorms and find Snape. He’ll get this fixed immediately.”

Y/N was already on her feet, brushing off the dust on her robes. “Of course. Here’s your cloak, by the way.”

He looked her up and down. 

“Keep it, at least until you get your own washed. You look like you’ve been living in squalor. I wasn’t expecting the floors to be that dirty.”

“But this’ll be way too big for me!”

“Would you rather look like someone who accidentally ordered the wrong size or like someone who spends her free time rolling around in dust piles?”

When Y/N rolled her eyes and turned away from him, he took that as an answer. “Exactly. I’m sure they won’t look awful. Just...do it now.”

Feeling slightly self conscious, Y/N peeled off her dirty cloak, setting it on the ground and reaching for Draco’s. 

As expected, the sleeves went way past her hands. Y/N held it up to him as evidence, cocking an eyebrow.

“C’mere,” he said, rolling his eyes (but still smiling slightly). She stepped forward and watched in shock as Draco gently cuffed her (his?) sleeves so they barely brushed the middles of her wrists. “You’re such a drama queen. This was such an easy fix.”

“Oh, I’m the drama queen?”

“I never said I wasn’t one too!”

“You implied it!”

“I most certainly did not!”

“You’re the one who made me put it on in the first place!”

“Because I was being chivalrous!”

“Oh, because chivalry is the first thing I think of when I think of you!”

Draco stepped forward, catching her wrist and pushed her back into the wall. Y/N stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Thinking of me now, huh, are we?” His words held a light tone, but the look on his face and proximity of him hinted at a deeper meaning.

“Sure?” answered Y/N, her voice much higher than usual. “So?”

Y/N had meant to challenge him to another battle of wits, but Draco seemed to take it as a different invitation. 

He leaned forward, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips to hers. It was gentler than she would’ve expected from him and took her by complete surprise.

Y/N stood frozen in his grasp, her eyes wide open. Draco seemed to realize this and sprung away from her.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I dunno what got into me, I guess I thought that you would’ve wanted...” He trailed off, shyly meeting her gaze.

“It’s okay, really,” she said. “I just wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t think you thought of me like that.”

Draco swallowed, once, twice. “I really don’t have to, either. I can leave you alone if you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t like that.” Y/N shifted her weight back and forth, fiddling with the ends of her sleeves. “We can...try again? If you’d like, of course.”

He looked like he was about to take her up on the offer, but at the last second, he stopped. 

“I’m sorry.It just feels wrong to do it here.”

Y/N tried to conceal how much the rejection stung, but the blush was obvious on her skin. “That’s o-okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna go find Snape. You go get another cloak.”

<>

Y/N couldn’t sleep.

It was just like that first night, but this time, it wasn’t the time difference keeping her awake. 

Her reason was stupid; she knew it was. She had just met Draco and it was unfair for her to have already given his expectations and a role to fill...and incredibly unreasonable. Completely irrational. She might as well call up St. Mungo’s and request a psychiatric evaluation. 

MIllicent was kind, but Y/N knew her well enough to know that she’d keep her word about throwing her into the lake. If she kept sighing and rolling around, she would be in for a treat. 

Her body was still sore from the short meeting it had with the ground earlier that day as she eased herself out of the bed and made her way towards the common room. Out of habit, she snatched her cloak, only to realize that it was still Draco’s.

Shit.

The blade in her chest only twisted further at the thought of him. 

Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it.

In any other case, Y/N would’ve draped the cloak over her shoulders, but she didn’t want to be reminded anymore of him than she had to be. She didn’t understand why he had suddenly decided to pull away--it wasn’t like anything really changed. Maybe she had had bad breath? Maybe her lips were too chapped?

It was pathetic, really, getting her heart broken within the first three weeks of school. She’d never even though of herself as a romantic, either--but Draco’s face could easily convert anyone to believe hopelessly in love.

Once again, she ascended the stairs into the common room, relishing in the quiet and calm it brought. But wait--she saw movement in the corner of her eye.

Turning, she saw Draco laying on the same couch as last time, staring straight at her.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Is that my cloak?” 

Of course the first thing he had to say to her was a conviction. 

“Uh, yeah. Here, you can have it.”

Y/N began striding towards him, holding her arms out to offer the cloak. Surprisingly, he shook his head, retracting his hands. 

“No. You look cold.”

Y/N allowed a comeback to die on her tongue, instead awkwardly standing there.

“Well, aren’t you going to sit down with me already?” He settled back into the couch, nodding towards the vacant spot next to him.

Against her better judgment, Y/N sat down beside him, tucking her legs up under her body. She shivered as the cool dungeon air wafted past her.

“I knew you were cold,” he mumbled, taking his cloak from her hands and draping it over both of them. “Isn’t that better?”

“You sound like my parents.”

He allowed a small smile to creep across his face as they sat together in silence, leaning closer into her. Their shoulders brushed, and Y/N realized that she could feel heat radiating off of him. 

“You’re very warm.”

“You’re very cold.”

Y/N shifted further away from him as the awkwardness maxxed out. 

“Hey, so about today...can we talk about what happened between us? I mean, when you kissed me and then changed your mind?” Y/N’s voice crackled out. She didn’t trust herself to speak at a volume louder than a whisper. 

“So about that,” he murmured back. “I never changed my mind. It just didn’t feel right at the moment, not because of you, but because of the situation.”

“Oh.”

“So...er..” he leaned towards her, cupping her face with his hand. It was warm and surprisingly soft, and his eyes nearly glowed in the dark when she looked into them. “Do you still want to try again?”

Y/N didn’t need words to answer that, only actions.

final a/n: so basically the tea is that i SUCK ass at writing actually fluff scenes when it comes down to kissing like i don’t know what’s too much and what’s too little and what’s too cringy so i just avoid it oops. hope you enjoyed. if you want to collab where i write the tension and the build up and you write the fluff please let me know because that would make my life so much easier omfg

[cedricssmile]

new girl | fred weasley

summary: y/n is a witch that has moved from America to England, which means she has to transfer from ilvermony to Hogwarts during her sixth year. At first she was scared but once she had met a certain red-headed boy everything seemed to be just fine from there on.   pairing: fred weasley x american! reader  warnings: Fluff!, nothing too bad i do not think word count: 1047 requested?: requested by @fantastic_fans

[ PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR TAKE CREDIT FOR ANY OF MY WORK ]

( MY GIF!! ) 

“we are moving to England, you’re father has been offered a better paying job over in the Ministry of Magic over there. It’ll also be a new start for all of us.” y/n mother said to her, she was on her bed as her mother was sat on the chair that was near her desk.   “What no, you can’t do this. What about school-.”  Y/n was cut off by her mother speaking again. “We have already sent an owl to Dumbledore and they are more than happy to have you attend Hogwarts.” Her mother said with a slight smile and then placed the parchment envelope on her bed. “We leave within the next three days love, I need you to get all of you’re things together.”  “i cannot believe you are making me leave this place, this place is my home.” y/n said with a sigh/ Her mother walked over to the 16 year old girl and kissed her forehead. “Everything happens for a reason my love, you’ll understand soon enough.” * Their new house was just like their old home over in New York, but y/n thought that it’ll never be a real home, not like ilvermony. She had all of her friends and memories but her mother and father say it’ll be a good future for them.  “Have a good year love, see you at Christmas.” y/n mother said as she hugged her only child with all the love that she had within her body.  “Love you too mother.” she said then let ago of her mother and made her way over towards the train.  “Be good!” Her mother yelled and y/n smiled and then\ went aboard the train.  Because she didn’t know anyone at her new school she tried to look for a carriage that had no one in it, but she was unsuccessful.  She walked by one that had two girls in it, they only looked to be a year or so older than her so she knocked on the glass door and then opened it when one of the girls nodded.  “Hi, sorry to bother you. You see I am new to Hogwarts this year and well I don’t have any friends or know anyone, am I able to sit in here with you guy’s until we get to Hogwarts?” The two girls looked at each other then back at y/n.  “Sure, why not take a seat!” one of the girls said. Y/n smiled brightly at the girl and then sat next to her. “I am Katie, this Angelina.” Katie said introducing herself and her friend.  “Y/n L/n-.”  “Wait you’re that transfer student from ilvermony aren’t you?” Katie asked with excitement within her words. “People already know that I am new?” Y/n asked  “Yeah, whenever there are new students within the year that other students are in Dumbledore likes to make it known to all of the old students. I guess so that it gives them a reason not be an asshole.” Katie said towards Y/n and Angelina nodded along with her friend.  “So, do you know which house you’ll be in?” Angelina asked.  “What house should I be in? What house are you guy’s in?” y/n asked  “We’re both in Gryffindor, along with those dorks.” Katie said with a laugh as she pointed towards the three boys that were laughing as they walked past the carriage. Y/n turned her head to look at the three boys, two twins and a dark skinned boy.  “The twins are Fred and George Weasley the other boy his name is Lee Jordan.” Katie said.  “What other houses are there?”  “Well there is ours, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin.” Angelina said. “I guess I should’ve done my research then.” y/n said with a laugh but as she did she felt like there was someone staring at her and she was right. One of the two red-headed twins was staring right at her, not in a creepy way but in a way that he was intrigued by her.  ** “Congrats, on making Gryffindor y/n!” Katie said as she hugged the y/h/c girl.  “Thank you!” y/n said with a smile as she hugged the girl back. Y/n being the new girl was not one of the only interesting thing that was happening at Hogwarts this year, the Tri Wizard Tournament was also being hosted at Hogwarts this year, so this would be an exciting year for y/n. As the weeks and months went on y/n was exceeding in her classes just like she was at ilvermony, she even made the Quidditch team within her first month of being at Hogwarts. Their keeper was hurt badly during a game with Slytherin so she stepped up to help her team. That is something that stood out to Fred, within the first few months that Y/n was at Hogwarts he was sort of nervous to talk to her but after he had spoken to Angelina about her she spoke to her finally and it was a blessing for everyone.  “Hey, y/n right?” Fred said to the girl as she approached her in the hallway.  “Yeah, Fred right?”  “How did you know-.”  “I can tell you two apart, especially on the Quidditch pitch.” y/n said with a laugh  “Oh.” Fred thought to himself for a moment as they walked. “I was wondering, would you be able to help me study for these potion exams that Snape has us doing? I am havin trouble with them and I have seen how much he praises over you’re work-.” “Sure.” Y/n said slightly cutting him off. “You talk too much, Weasley.”  “Sorry, guess I am nervous.” Fred said with a nervous laugh as she scratched the back of his neck slightly.  “What Fred Weasley nervous? Never.” y/n said with a slight laugh.  “If you don’t have a date or anythin, would you I dunno want to go to the ball with me?”  “I mean you don’t have to if you already have someone to go wi-.” y/n cut the boy off by pulling him down by his Gryffindor tie and kissing him upon his lips.  “If you be quite Weasley, I will go with you.” Y/n said with a smile then looked down at her shes.  “So it’s a yes.”  “Yes, it’s a yes Weasley. Not get to the library I’ll meet you there in five.”

[jewish-privilege]

Without notifying his followers or even his inner circle, the longtime president of a legacy neo-Nazi group handed his organization to a black civil rights activist from California.

James Hart Stern, 54, is the new president of the National Socialist Movement, a group whose members wear uniforms reminiscent of those worn in Nazi Germany, celebrate Adolf Hitler and organize public rallies across the county.

Stern’s first move as president was to ask a Virginia judge to find the organization culpable of conspiring to commit violence at the deadly Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville in 2017. The group has been accused of wrongdoing in a lawsuit but had previously denied any responsibility.

Next, he plans to transform the hate group’s website, visited by millions of white supremacists each year, into a space for Holocaust history lessons.

“I did the hard and dangerous part,” Stern told The Washington Post. “As a black man, I took over a neo-Nazi group and outsmarted them.”

For weeks, the sudden change in power had confounded those who study hate groups and perplexed those within the organization, who had heard nothing from Jeff Schoep, the man who led the Detroit-based organization for 24 years.

...To understand how Stern came to overtake Schoep’s organization, you first must understand how the Michigan neo-Nazi and California activist came to know each other.

While serving time in prison in Mississippi for wire fraud, Stern says he befriended his cellmate and onetime Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard Edgar Ray Killen, who had been convicted in the 1964 killings of three civil rights workers. Though Stern said Killen regularly called him a racial slur, he nevertheless granted his cellmate power of attorney over his life story and estate. (Killen’s family and lawyer dispute the veracity of the deal.)

Stern was paroled from prison in 2011. In 2016, he said he used his legal discretion to dissolve the Klan organization that Killen once led.

Around 2014, Stern says Schoep reached out to him to inquire about his relationship with Killen, who died in 2018. Schoep denies that account, saying Stern made first contact on the recommendation of Killen. He said Stern reached out to talk about his mission to aid racial reconciliation in the United States.

The two agree on what came next: a “race relations summit” in California, where representatives from Schoep’s organization met with black leaders to talk about ways they could work together without violence.

The hate group was founded under a different name in 1974 by two former officials of the American Nazi Party, according to the Southern Poverty Law Center. Schoep took control of NSM in 1994 and was responsible for growing its membership and brand, which was waning by the time he met Stern in 2014.

...Stern claims their conversations were much deeper. Though the two remained firmly entrenched in their political camps, Stern said, they also engaged in regular debate about the Holocaust, the ugliness of the Nazi swastika, the fallibility of Schoep’s white-nationalist ideals and, most critically, the fate of his hate group.

The goal, Stern claims, was always to try to change Schoep’s mind.

“From Day One, I always told him: ‘I don’t agree with you. I don’t like you,’ ” Stern said. “I talked to him because I wanted to hope to change him.”

That didn’t happen, Stern said.

But according to Stern’s version of recent events, he was able to accomplish the next best thing.

In early 2019, Stern said Schoep came to him for legal advice on the lawsuit, which Schoep denies. The lawsuit was filed in 2017 by a Charlottesville counterprotester against the NSM and other white-nationalist groups.

During a conversation about the lawsuit, Schoep seemed “rattled,” Stern said, and began talking about making a change. “I was hoping he was talking about his ideology,” Stern said.

Instead, Stern said the white-nationalist leader called NSM an “albatross hanging around his neck” and said he was looking for ways to get out. Stern said Schoep was worried about the cost of the lawsuit, frustrated by problems in the organization, and weighing the possibility of leaving NSM at a time at a time when hate group experts say the group faced being outshone by the more refined efforts of new alt-right leaders such as Richard Spencer.

Schoep felt underappreciated by his followers and left out of the mainstream white-nationalist movement.

...So he encouraged Schoep to get a fresh start by handing Stern control of the Detroit-based organization and website, Stern said, by making him president of the organization in official documents and signing a sworn affidavit.

With some convincing, Schoep said yes.

“He knew that he had the most vulnerable, the most loose-cannon members that they had ever had in the organization,” Stern said. “He realized somebody was going to commit a crime, and he was going to be held responsible for it.”

Schoep denies large portions of Stern’s account. He said he only signed over the group because Stern had convinced him that the ownership change would get the lawsuit dismissed.

“Now I don’t believe any of this was true,” Schoep said.

...In mid-January, Schoep filed incorporation paperwork with the Michigan Department of Licensing and Regulatory Affairs to formally transfer the National Socialist Movement to Stern, according to documents filed with the state. By Feb. 15, Stern was listed in court documents for the lawsuit as NSM’s representative. Stern is not listed as an individual defendant in the suit.

Several of the people listed on the NSM website as leaders within the organization did not respond to a request for comment from The Post on Friday. One man, who identifies himself as SS Capt. Harry L. Hughes III and is listed as the public relations director for NSM, said in an email that he is “not involved in the NSM’s legal affairs."

Hughes said he had been “waiting in suspense” for answers, along with other members, before Schoep’s statement Friday night. Schoep confirmed that hardly anyone knew of his deal with Stern until recently.

...Experts find the moment to hold more significance. Keegan Hankes, an SPLC research analyst, said the transfer is "one of the strangest things I’ve seen since I started tracking these things five years ago.”

“Signing over leadership of an organization this old is the equivalent of a death sentence in the white-nationalist movement,” Hankes said.

...It remains unclear how NSM will be able to maintain its organizational infrastructure with Stern legally at the helm of the corporation. In his statement, Schoep said he intends to challenge Stern’s ownership.

“This paper appointment will not stop us,” Schoep said. “Mr. Stern’s bad faith actions may leave me no choice but to protect my rights in a court of law, as I believe he fraudulently manipulated me for the purposes of gaining control of, and dissolving NSM.”

Though Schoep is no longer legally affiliated with NSM, he still faces the lawsuit because he is listed as a defendant.

“It’s definitely not good for him, and it shouldn’t be good for him,” Stern said. “You spend 25 years terrorizing people, you can’t rebrand overnight. It doesn’t work like that.”

Stern, who runs Racial Reconciliation Outreach Ministries, said he is still sorting through the legal intricacies his NSM leadership entails. He is listed as the attorney representing the NSM in court filings. But he is not a licensed lawyer and a judge recently ruled that he could not represent the group for that reason.

Stern said he is working on hiring an outside lawyer to refile his motion for a summary judgment on the lawsuit. He has also offered the plaintiff’s attorneys full access to NSM social media accounts, he said, because he claims to own those, too.

...Stern says he’s preparing for what comes next and is seeking guidance from Jewish leaders. He said he does not plan to dissolve the corporation because he doesn’t want Schoep’s followers, or others in the white-nationalist movement, to reincorporate it.

Stern admits his plans for the website are still evolving, but his primary goal is to offer it as a reclaimed space to Jewish organizations that could help him educate NSM’s followers on the history of the Holocaust.

“Everything is out in the open,” Stern said. “My plans and intentions are not to let this group prosper. It’s my goal to set some hard records right.”

[violaslayvis]

1. Funds were frozen for the import of insulin

Ever since President Donald Trump’s imposition of US financial sanctions against Venezuela in August, the Venezuelan state has confronted various difficulties trying to import medicines and foodstuffs not produced domestically. The financial blockade directly affects routine international payments for goods and services.

The Venezuelan government has repeatedly condemned this. On Sept. 7, President Nicolas Maduro denounced in the National Constituent Assembly the hold up in an international port of a cargo of over 300,000 doses of insulin, thanks to the “Donald Trump-Julio Borges pact.”

President Maduro explained that the U.S.-based Citibank financial institution refused to receive the money Venezuela was depositing to pay for the importation of this huge cargo of insulin for diabetic patients. As a result, the insulin shipment was held up for many days in port. President Maduro explained, “Even though we have the money to pay, they do not accept it.”

“Starting this week, I hold Trump and Borges responsible for the blockade of medicines,” President Maduro said, referring to the requests during 2017 by the leader of the Justice First party for these boycott measures.

2. Colombia’s blockade of malaria medicine

On Nov. 3, Vice President Tareck El Aissami, denounced that Venezuela had purchased in Colombia a shipment of Primaquine, an anti-malaria medicine, but, “Once the laboratory (BSN Medical) knew the final destination was the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela’s Health Ministry, it arbitrarily blocked the dispatch of this medicine on the orders of Colombia’s president.”

President Maduro confirmed this saying, "When we already had the money to buy the medicines and went to pay for them, the Colombian government forbade the sale of these anti-malaria medicines to the Venezuelan people. We will purchase them elsewhere, people in Venezuela will not lack the medicines to combat these diseases." In fact, the Primaquine and other medicines for chronic illnesses had to be purchased in India.

3. Suspension of funds for buying food

One year ago, Freddy Bernal, secretary general of the Local Production and Supply Committees (CLAPs), denounced that, already back then, Venezuela was suffering an intense blockade of food imports.

He noted that, as part of the financial war against Venezuela, international banks suspended payments to foreign suppliers for three months holding up the arrival of 29 container ships carrying supplies needed to process and produce food products in Venezuela. Bernal explained, "We spent 68 days looking for ways to pay and of course we have had to tell the country that this badly affected food distribution.”

The CLAP food packages have drastically reduced the effects of shortages and inflation resulting from both the attacks on Venezuela’s currency and also the economic siege from overseas. But, this past September, 18 million packages could not be distributed because payments were blocked. Venezuela’s authorities had to work with various allied countries to triangulate payments so as to bring the food products to Venezuela.

Chavista leader Aristóbulo Istúriz condemned this sinister development before the National Council of Economic Production explaining that once the food products were paid for, a shipping boycott was organized, which meant the 600 containers involved had to be shipped 100 at a time instead of arriving in a single shipment.

Given these obstacles, clearly brought about by the powerful, hegemonic states opposed to Venezuela, the government recently entered into contracts for weekly imports from Mexico and Panama of more than 1.5 million packages of basic food products into the ports of La Guaira in Vargas state and Puerto Cabello in Carabobo state for distribution across the country via the CLAPs.

4. Blocking of payments for travel by Venezuelan sports teams

But medicines and foods are not the only major expressions of the de facto blockade imposed on Venezuela’s people. Sports are also affected. President Maduro also denounced in the National Constituent Assembly that, on Sept. 6, an international bank informed the Bolivarian government that it was “impossible” to carry out payments by Venezuela to a U.S. financial institution refusing to process the transfer of US$1.5 million from the Sports Ministry to pay suppliers of airline tickets, accommodation and other needs of leading athletes in various Venezuelan sports delegations.

Although the government tried to unblock the payments in order to pay for travel, accommodation and related expenses, President Maduro decided to place government airplanes at the athletes’ disposal, most especially Venezuela’s female volleyball team, whose participation in the 2017 South American championships was jeopardized by the U.S. blockade against Venezuela.

The increase in areas affected by the international blockade against Venezuela is matched by the corresponding government responses to ensure the necessary protection of all Venezuela’s people. International alliances with the bloc of countries challenging U.S. hegemony have allowed Venezuela, with difficulty, to cope with the U.S. authorities’ tough measures which are aimed at fomenting social conditions clearing the way for the overthrow of the Chavista government. The blockade is applied so as to affect Venezuela’s population directly, but the government has acted to neutralize or at least mitigate the effects of the “Trump-Borges pact,” a new way of describing the U.S. intervention and coup.

[usafphantom2]

Turkish delegation is in the US to discuss the sale of F-16 jets

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 08/17/2022 - 1:00 PM in Military

The Turkish Ministry of Defense said that a military delegation is in the U.S. to discuss the sale of F-16 fighters to the country.

"To carry out the acquisition and modernization of the F-16 as soon as possible, the technical delegation of the Ministry of National Defense went to the U.S. to talk at the invitation of the U.S.," the ministry said in a statement.

The ministry added that so far three meetings have been held in Turkey: in December 2021, and in February and March of this year.

Last fall, Turkey's President Recep Tayyip Erdogan said Washington offered to provide Turkey with F-16s in exchange for its previous investment in the F-35 program, from which Ankara was excluded after acquiring the Russian S-400s. The U.S. has repeatedly expressed concern about Turkey's acquisition of the S-400, as it believes that Russia could use these air defense systems to obtain information about fifth-generation F-35 fighters.

After a meeting on the sidelines of the NATO summit at the end of June with Erdogan, U.S. President Joe Biden said at a press conference: "We should sell the F-16 to Turkey. I said that in December and my position hasn't changed since then. It's not in our interest not to sell them. We need Congressional approval to get there and I think we'll get there."

The U.S. House of Representatives, however, passed legislation to block the sale. Presented by New Jersey legislator Frank Pallone, the amendment was approved by 244 to 179 with strong Democratic support and 60 votes of approval from Republicans.

The law prohibits the sale or transfer of F-16s and modernization kits to Turkey, unless Biden certifies that the transfer is in American national interest and assures Congress that in the 120 days prior to the transfer, the Turkish government has not "violated Greece's sovereignty, including through territorial overflights."

Tags: Military AviationF-16 Fighting FalconTAF - Turkish Air Force / Turkish Air Force

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in a specialized aviation magazine in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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