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badger-tales · 23 days ago

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Everywhere and Nowhere//F.W x Reader (1)

a/n: So uhhhh, i went a bit crazy with this fanfiction (Sorry) and the entire fanfiction ended up being 25k words (YIKES) so i'm going to post it in 5 parts i hope you understand. also this isnt really like a whole fic its kind just a bunch of diffrent scenes throughout her time at hogwarts.

word count: 7.1k

request: Hiiii! :) I was wondering if you could do a oneshot about a fred weasley x reader idea I've had for forever where the reader was a hat stall for a really long time. To the point she had to be put aside to be sorted later. Plot twist, she never gets sorted. I always wondered what would happen if the sorting hat couldn't decide what house to put someone in. I imagine she would have a room in the faculty tower or something, and because she doesn't have a house but she is a student, she would be able to figure out how to get into every common room. I'm really tired right now, so sorry if this sounds really bad, I promise it sounds better when I'm coherent. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, though 🫶

Thanks sm!!!

The Sorting Hat’s Dilemma:

The Great Hall buzzed with life—waves of excitement and nervous energy bouncing off the walls as students leaned forward in their seats, eager to see where their classmates would be placed. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the evening sky, but Y/N barely noticed the twinkling stars overhead. Her stomach churned with anticipation as the Sorting Ceremony unfolded. Names were called out, one by one, and the Sorting Hat seemed to make its decisions almost instantaneously—Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin. Each declaration was followed by cheers and applause as new students were welcomed into their houses, their faces lighting up with relief and pride.

But as Y/N watched, her own heart pounded harder, her palms growing clammy with each passing moment. Her name had yet to be called, and the knot in her stomach only tightened with every student who found their place.

Then it happened.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

The sound of her name rang out, reverberating through the Great Hall like a spell, and for a split second, the room seemed to fall away. Her legs felt heavy as lead, but she forced herself to move, her feet carrying her toward the front. The stool loomed in front of her, and she could feel hundreds of eyes following her every step. Her heart was beating so loudly in her chest she wondered if everyone could hear it.

She lowered herself onto the stool, the old wood creaking beneath her as the Sorting Hat was gently placed on her head. Her hands rested awkwardly in her lap, trembling ever so slightly, though she tried to still them. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she stared straight ahead, willing herself to stay calm.

And then… silence.

Long, stretching silence.

Her throat felt dry, and she swallowed hard as the Hat finally spoke, its voice curling around her mind like an inquisitive whisper.

“Hmm… curious,” it mused, its tone slow and deliberate. “Courage… yes, I see that. But there’s more... a deep thirst for knowledge, an eagerness to learn. Loyalty too, quite strong. But... oh, ambition. That’s interesting. Yes, you have ambition.”

Y/N could feel her pulse racing in her ears. It felt as if the whole hall had faded into the background, the sound of shuffling feet and hushed whispers blurring into white noise. She sat there, trapped in this strange limbo as the Hat pondered her fate. It was agonizing, this waiting. Everyone else had their answers so quickly, but for her—time dragged on painfully slow, each second stretching like an eternity.

She could feel the weight of the stares now, the way the other students leaned in, watching her. Why was this taking so long? Her chest tightened as her mind spun in a whirlwind of anxiety. Was something wrong with her? Was she not enough for any house?

"I see all the traits... all of them strong," the Hat continued, its voice a strange mixture of fascination and hesitation. "But no single one dominates. You belong everywhere... and nowhere."

Her breath hitched. *Nowhere?* The word echoed in her mind, leaving a hollow feeling in its wake. She could feel heat creeping up her neck, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. The whispers around the hall grew louder, more questioning, more curious, and Y/N felt her chest tighten, her vision blurring slightly as she blinked back the sting of unshed tears.

How was this happening? She had dreamed of this moment, of finding her place, but now she felt more lost than ever.

Professor McGonagall’s firm yet gentle touch on her shoulder pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. "You may step aside for now," the professor said, her voice carefully composed, though Y/N could sense the uncertainty hidden beneath.

Y/N nodded numbly, sliding off the stool on shaky legs. She kept her gaze down, avoiding the sea of curious faces as she made her way to the side, her feet feeling heavier with every step. A strange emptiness bloomed in her chest—an aching void where certainty should have been. Everyone else had a home now, a place where they fit. But her? She felt like an outlier, hovering on the edge of something she couldn’t define.

As she stood there, away from the students celebrating their placements, a deep uncertainty settled into her bones. Where did she belong? Would she ever find her place at Hogwarts? The applause and laughter of the hall felt distant, muffled, like she was watching from behind a foggy window. She wanted to disappear, to slip away before anyone could ask her the question she dreaded most:

"What house are you in?"

But she didn’t have an answer. Not yet.

---

First Night in the Faculty Tower

Instead of the warm, bustling common room Y/N had pictured in her head, filled with laughter and the chatter of new friends, she found herself being led through winding corridors to a much quieter part of the castle. Her footsteps echoed against the cold stone floors as she followed a professor up a spiraling staircase, away from the throngs of students still settling into their new houses. Her heart sank further with each step, dread creeping into her chest like a fog rolling in on a cold night.

Finally, they stopped in front of a plain wooden door in the faculty tower, the key clicking in the lock with a soft finality. Y/N stepped inside and took a hesitant glance around the small room—a bed tucked into the corner, a wooden desk that looked more functional than inviting, and a single window offering a narrow view of the grounds below. The room was practical, yes, but it was also hollow, missing the warmth she had imagined for her first night at Hogwarts.

The silence pressed down on her, thick and unyielding. There were no lively conversations echoing through the walls, no shuffling of feet as excited students unpacked and claimed their spaces in shared dormitories. There was only stillness—a sharp, aching kind of quiet that made the room feel even smaller. The absence of house banners on the walls only made it worse. She had thought she would be enveloped in the colors of her new house, surrounded by the symbols of a home she could belong to. But here, there was nothing.

The bed creaked softly as she sat down, the mattress firm and unfamiliar. She ran her hands over the cool fabric of the blanket, trying to ground herself in the moment, but all it did was remind her how far she felt from everything she had dreamed of. Hogwarts had always seemed like a place full of wonder and magic, where students forged lifelong friendships in cozy common rooms or whispered about their days before falling asleep. She had imagined laughing with housemates, sharing stories in the flickering firelight, bonding over the excitement of this new chapter.

Instead, she was here—alone, in a room that felt more like a waiting area than a home.

Y/N lay back on the bed, her eyes drifting to the ceiling, which was nothing more than plain stone. She tried to close her eyes, to lose herself in the sounds of the castle, but even that was a cruel reminder. Faint echoes of life drifted up from the halls below—distant laughter, the muffled chatter of students who were likely already bonding, swapping stories about their Sorting or talking about classes they were excited to start. It felt like another world, one she wasn’t part of. She could picture them, groups of new friends gathering in their respective common rooms, their faces lit with excitement and nervous anticipation. They were beginning their Hogwarts journey together, while she remained on the outside looking in.

A tight knot formed in her chest, and she curled up on her side, pulling the blanket over herself as if it could somehow shield her from the loneliness that seemed to press in on all sides. It didn’t help. The emptiness lingered, a hollow ache that made her want to sink deeper into the mattress and disappear.

She stared at the wall, her thoughts spinning in quiet desperation. Was this how her entire year would go? Trapped in a limbo between houses, neither here nor there? Somewhere down below, students were finding their people, forging the connections she so desperately longed for, while she lay alone in this temporary room, wondering when—*if*—she would ever find her place.

The moonlight filtered weakly through the small window, casting faint shadows on the floor, and Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of isolation settle over her. She had waited for this moment for so long, had dreamed of it, and now it felt like a cruel twist of fate. Instead of the thrill of a new adventure, she felt adrift, like a ship lost at sea, with no land in sight.

And in that vast, quiet room, the most painful realization of all hit her.

She was alone.

---

Navigating Hogwarts

The first few weeks at Hogwarts passed in a blur of overwhelming sights and sounds, but for Y/N, it felt like she was caught in a strange, invisible bubble, separated from the vibrant life around her. Each morning, she made her way to the Great Hall, where the long house tables were filled with laughter, chatter, and clinking silverware as friends swapped stories and gossip from their new Hogwarts experiences. For everyone else, the school was bursting with possibility—a grand adventure waiting to unfold. But for Y/N, there was only a quiet sense of disconnection.

Without a house to call her own, she found herself in an awkward limbo. There was no designated seat for her at the Great Hall, no table that she belonged to, so she floated from one spot to another, often settling at the far end of whichever table had the most space. It was as if she were a ghost among the students, present but not truly seen. She ate her meals in near silence, the low hum of conversations all around her making the quietness of her own experience even louder.

No one actively avoided her, but no one truly reached out either. There was an unspoken curiosity that lingered in the air whenever she entered a room—an unsorted student was a rare oddity, a puzzle that most didn’t know how to solve. Some would give her sidelong glances, as though they wanted to ask her questions but couldn’t find the words, while others simply pretended she wasn’t there, their attention focused on the friends and connections they were quickly making. Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider looking in, watching the world unfold around her but never really becoming a part of it.

Classes were no easier. While other first years formed tight-knit groups with their housemates, learning the ropes of Hogwarts life together, Y/N was on her own. The castle’s vast corridors were a maze of moving staircases, hidden doors, and twisting passageways, and without housemates to guide her, she often found herself wandering in circles, trying to decipher the confusing layout of the school. Every hallway looked the same after a while—grand and beautiful, but also cold and unwelcoming.

Her isolation extended beyond just the physical spaces. When the rest of the students returned to their common rooms after classes, retreating to the warmth and safety of their dormitories, Y/N was left with nowhere to go. The common rooms were off-limits to her—those vibrant, cozy spaces filled with laughter and house pride were worlds she couldn’t access. There were no house points for her to earn, no pride to share in, no cheers or commiserations over wins or losses in Quidditch or lessons. It felt like being cut off from something essential, like a missing piece of herself she couldn’t quite find.

Every day, after her classmates vanished into the hidden entrances of their common rooms, Y/N wandered the castle’s empty halls, trying to fill the strange void that settled deeper in her chest. She would linger by the windows, watching groups of students gather by the fire in the courtyards or walk down to the Quidditch pitch in the afternoons. Their laughter and easy camaraderie drifted up to her like a reminder of everything she was missing.

At night, the faculty tower became her refuge, but it was a cold comfort. Climbing the spiral staircase to her small room felt like a slow march into isolation. Each step seemed to echo her loneliness, bouncing off the stone walls as if to mock her. She could almost hear the distant sounds of other students in their dorms—soft conversations, hushed laughter, the rustling of blankets as they settled into their beds, surrounded by friends and a sense of belonging. But here, in the faculty tower, there was only silence.

Her room, though practical, felt like a prison. The bed was neatly made, the desk was organized, and the window offered a view of the grounds that seemed picturesque in the daylight—but none of it mattered. The emptiness was suffocating, pressing down on her chest each night as she sat alone, staring at the blank walls. It was as though the room itself was a constant reminder of what she didn’t have—a house to call her own, a group of people who understood her, a sense of belonging that had been promised but never delivered.

Y/N often found herself lying awake at night, the weight of her thoughts pressing in. Where did she fit in this world? What was she supposed to do when everyone around her was building connections, forming friendships, and growing into their new lives at Hogwarts, while she remained untethered, floating between spaces? It felt as if the castle itself was rejecting her, keeping her at arm’s length while everyone else found their place within its ancient walls.

And in those quiet moments, when the rest of the school was asleep and the distant sound of laughter had faded, Y/N felt truly alone. More than anything, she longed for someone to reach out—to see her, to talk to her, to make her feel like she wasn’t just a mystery to be puzzled over. But each day, the sense of isolation grew stronger, and the walls of her room seemed to close in, trapping her in this strange limbo between belonging and not.

Each day was harder than the last, and with every step she took through the halls, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all Hogwarts would ever be for her—an endless search for a place she couldn’t seem to find.

---

Watching from the Shadows

Y/N often found herself drawn to the entrances of the various common rooms as if by some invisible pull, lingering just out of sight as students slipped in and out, laughing, chatting, and disappearing behind walls she couldn’t breach. The one that intrigued her most was Gryffindor Tower. There was something magnetic about it, something alive in the way the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open to reveal the warmth within, the soft glow of candlelight flickering against the stone walls as students emerged, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Their laughter would echo down the corridor, bursting forth in waves of joy that only seemed to deepen the quiet of her own solitude.

She would watch from a distance, careful not to get too close, but close enough to imagine what it might be like. To belong to something bigger than herself. To be one of those students who had a place to return to after a long day of classes and wandering, a place where people would notice if she wasn’t there. She imagined what it might feel like to push open that portrait hole and step inside, greeted by friendly faces and the warmth of a fire crackling in the hearth. The very thought of it made her chest ache with longing.

But the idea of actually trying to sneak into a common room—without a password, without permission—felt like too much. There was something about the invisible barrier that made her feel even more separate, as though the very walls of Hogwarts were reminding her that she didn’t belong to any house, didn’t have a key to any door. It was a reminder that she was always on the outside, looking in.

Instead, Y/N found her own sanctuary in the one place that didn’t seem to demand a password or permission—the library. The towering shelves of books became her silent companions, their endless pages offering her a sense of refuge from the bustling life she couldn’t quite be part of. The smell of parchment and ink, the soft rustle of pages turning—it all soothed her, wrapping her in a quiet comfort. Here, in the rows of books, she could lose herself in stories and knowledge, and no one asked questions about who she was or where she came from.

Madam Pince rarely disturbed her. As long as Y/N kept to herself, the librarian allowed her to linger, and Y/N was grateful for the unspoken understanding between them. It was a kind of peace—this quiet haven where no one stared at her with curiosity or confusion, where no one whispered about the unsorted student who wandered the halls alone. She could spend hours tucked away at a corner table, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows across her open books. It was here, in the stillness of the library, that she could almost pretend she belonged somewhere, even if it was only in the pages of a book.

But even in the sanctuary of the library, the loneliness lingered. It clung to her, an ever-present shadow that no amount of reading could fully dispel. The silence that had once felt like a balm for her restless thoughts now felt suffocating at times. When the library closed for the night, the vast space became hers alone, and yet it wasn’t the comforting solitude she’d hoped for. It was a cold, echoing emptiness that made her feel small in comparison.

Sometimes, Y/N would stay long after the other students had left, lingering in the rows of books as the quiet deepened and the shadows stretched across the floor. In those moments, when the library felt like her own private common room, she would try to convince herself that it wasn’t so bad—that maybe this was enough, this self-imposed retreat where she could be alone with her thoughts and escape the reality of her situation.

But deep down, the ache remained. No matter how many books she read or how long she spent in the peaceful corners of the library, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing out on something vital. Somewhere behind those closed doors, other students were forming bonds, sharing stories, and creating memories that she would never be a part of. And no matter how quiet the library was, no matter how much solace she found there, it wasn’t the same as belonging.

Y/N would lie in bed at night, staring at the ceiling of her small room in the faculty tower, and wonder what it would be like to have someone to talk to, someone who might invite her into their world. But those thoughts always remained just that—fantasies. In the morning, she would rise, make her way back to the library, and lose herself in the familiar routine, hoping that maybe, one day, the loneliness wouldn’t feel quite so heavy.

But even in the peace of the library, she couldn’t escape it entirely. No matter how quiet or calm the space was, the emptiness within her never seemed to fully fade.

---

The First Quidditch Match

The first Quidditch match of the season had transformed the entire school into a whirlwind of excitement. Everywhere Y/N turned, students were decked out in their house colors, faces painted with bright stripes of red, gold, green, and silver. The buzz of anticipation hung in the air like static, and Y/N, despite herself, felt drawn to it. Gryffindor versus Slytherin—it was a rivalry that seemed to pulse through the very walls of Hogwarts, and she couldn’t help but be curious.

As she made her way toward the Quidditch stands, the roar of the crowd grew louder, and a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety tugged at her chest. She didn’t have a house to cheer for, no colors to wear, no allegiance to stand behind, and the thought made her feel like a spectator in her own life. Still, she climbed the stairs to the stands, scanning the sea of students all gathered in their respective sections, their shouts and chants blending into a chaotic symphony of school spirit.

Y/N chose a spot near the edge of the stands, far from the thick of the crowd. It was safer there, away from the crush of house pride and the boisterous groups that filled the center rows. She sat down, pulling her cloak tightly around her as a cool breeze swept across the pitch. The seats around her filled quickly, but no one seemed to notice her presence—everyone’s focus was on the field, where the players were mounting their brooms and preparing for takeoff.

The match began with a shrill blast of the whistle, and the sky above the pitch exploded into movement as the players shot into the air, darting between one another with incredible speed. The crowd erupted into cheers, the noise so loud it seemed to vibrate through the stands. Students were on their feet, shouting, chanting, fists pumping in the air as they screamed the names of their house teams. The energy was palpable, buzzing through the air like magic itself, but Y/N felt a strange disconnect from it all, as if she were watching through a veil that separated her from the rest of the world.

Her eyes flicked between the game and the students around her, but more often than not, she found herself watching the crowd rather than the players. The passion they shared was contagious, their faces lit up with excitement, their voices raw from cheering. Gryffindor and Slytherin students shouted at each other from across the stands, playful taunts mixed with fierce loyalty to their houses. Even students from other houses were swept up in the rivalry, joining in the chants, their faces bright with enthusiasm.

Y/N’s gaze lingered on a group of Gryffindors just a few rows down. They stood huddled together, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, their faces flushed with excitement as they shouted support for their team. They moved as one, reacting to every near miss, every score, every tumble in perfect harmony, their collective pride binding them together in a way that felt almost tangible.

She couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be part of that—to stand among them, to share in that collective pride and thrill of the game. To know that, win or lose, you were part of something bigger than yourself. The cheers, the laughter, the groans of disappointment when a player missed a catch—it was all part of the same experience, something she could observe but never fully participate in.

The game itself seemed to fly by in a blur of action and noise, but for Y/N, time felt slower. She clapped politely when Gryffindor scored, but there was no one to turn to, no one to exchange excited glances with. The disconnect was sharp, a constant reminder that while everyone else seemed to be united in their shared love for their house and the game, she was just… there. A spectator. An outsider.

When the final whistle blew and Gryffindor emerged victorious, the stands erupted into a frenzy of celebration. Red and gold banners waved in the air, and Gryffindor students poured out of their seats, hugging each other, laughing, shouting their triumph to the sky. The noise was deafening, a jubilant roar that seemed to shake the very ground beneath them.

Y/N remained seated, watching quietly as her classmates embraced, their faces shining with pride and joy. She felt like a shadow in the corner of a bright, vibrant world—present, but not truly part of it. For them, this was a moment of unity, a celebration of house pride that would be talked about for days, maybe even weeks. They had something to belong to, something to root for, something that tied them together in a way that Y/N could only observe from a distance.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as the wind picked up, and for a moment, the noise of the crowd faded, leaving only the echo of her own thoughts. This was Hogwarts for them—a place where belonging was tied to house colors and shared experiences, where victories like this one were celebrated together. For her, though, it was just another reminder of how different her experience was.

When the crowd began to thin and students made their way back toward the castle, still buzzing with excitement, Y/N stood up slowly. She cast one last glance at the field, where the Gryffindor team was being swarmed by their housemates, lifted onto shoulders and carried off in triumph. It was a moment of pure joy, but it wasn’t hers.

With a sigh, Y/N turned away from the celebrations and began to walk back to the castle, her footsteps quiet and unnoticed amidst the roar of victory behind her.

---

A Moment with Professor McGonagall

One afternoon, a few months into the school year, Y/N found herself being summoned to Professor McGonagall’s office. The corridors of Hogwarts felt both familiar and strange to her now—she knew every twist and turn of the path, yet the sense of belonging that others seemed to carry so effortlessly still eluded her. She wondered, as she made her way toward the stone staircase that led to the deputy headmistress’s office, what this meeting could be about. She had been waiting for weeks for some kind of resolution, and yet nothing had changed.

When she entered the office, Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, her expression serious but not unkind. The large windows let in beams of golden afternoon sunlight, casting a warm glow over the books and trinkets that lined the shelves. Despite the inviting atmosphere, Y/N’s stomach twisted with nerves. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, until McGonagall gestured for her to sit.

"Miss Y/N," McGonagall began, folding her hands on the desk in front of her, her sharp eyes softening just a little. "I understand this has been a rather challenging start to your year. I wanted to speak with you personally because I don’t want you to think that we’ve forgotten about your... situation."

Y/N sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The word *situation* hung in the air like a lead weight. She nodded, her heart beating a little faster, though she wasn’t sure what she was expecting to hear. "I appreciate that, Professor," she said quietly, though her voice felt distant, as if the words weren’t really her own.

McGonagall’s eyes were steady, and though her tone remained formal, there was a hint of something softer beneath her usual strict demeanor. "The Sorting Hat’s indecision is... unusual, to say the least," she continued, her voice measured. "In my many years here at Hogwarts, it is rare for the Hat to hesitate, let alone to leave a decision unresolved."

Y/N shifted in her seat, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She had heard this before, had felt the weight of those same words for weeks now, yet they hadn’t provided her with any comfort. Everyone else had been sorted within moments, their futures defined by the houses they would call home for the next seven years. And yet she—she had been left in limbo, with no direction, no place to belong.

McGonagall seemed to sense the turmoil beneath Y/N’s calm exterior. "But please understand," she said more gently, leaning forward slightly, "it does not mean you don’t belong here, Miss Y/N."

Y/N nodded again, but the sinking feeling in her chest remained stubbornly in place. "It’s just... hard," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everyone else has somewhere they fit. They have a house, a family. And I..." She trailed off, her throat tightening as the words she hadn’t been able to say out loud until now finally bubbled to the surface. "I just feel... lost."

For a moment, there was silence. McGonagall’s gaze softened further, and she let out a quiet sigh, her normally strict posture easing ever so slightly. "I can imagine it must be difficult," she said, her tone softer now, almost sympathetic. "But you are still a Hogwarts student, no matter what house you belong to—or don’t belong to," she added, her lips quirking in a brief, wry smile. "You still have a place here."

Y/N wanted to believe her, she really did, but the truth was, despite the professor’s reassurances, she still felt adrift. She managed a small smile, but it felt more like a mask than anything genuine. "I know," she said, her voice quiet, "but... it doesn’t feel that way."

McGonagall studied her for a moment, her sharp eyes never wavering. "I understand this must feel incredibly isolating," she said slowly, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. "Hogwarts is a place where tradition runs deep, where houses provide students with a sense of identity and camaraderie. And for you, without that anchor, it is only natural to feel out of place."

Y/N’s eyes flicked up to meet the professor’s, her heart tightening. *She understands,* Y/N thought. But that only made it worse somehow. Knowing that McGonagall could see through her brave front, see the loneliness and uncertainty she tried so hard to hide, made it feel more real. "Sometimes it feels like..." Y/N hesitated, unsure if she should continue. But the words slipped out before she could stop them. "Like I’m just... waiting for something that will never happen. Like I’m here, but not *really* here."

McGonagall’s expression softened further, the lines of her face showing a rare moment of compassion. "It may feel that way now," she said gently, "but these things take time. You are not the first student to feel out of place at Hogwarts, and I dare say you won’t be the last. But you will find your way, Miss Y/N. I have no doubt about that."

Y/N looked down at her hands, her mind racing. "But how?" she asked, her voice small, as though she didn’t really expect an answer. "How do I find my way when I don’t even know where to start?"

McGonagall leaned back slightly, considering her words carefully before she spoke. "I cannot give you a perfect answer," she admitted. "But I can tell you this—belonging isn’t always about where you are placed. It’s about what you choose to make of your time here. The relationships you build, the things you learn, the ways in which you grow. Houses provide a foundation, yes, but it is the people and experiences that truly define your place at Hogwarts."

The words hung in the air between them, and for the first time, Y/N felt a flicker of something other than uncertainty. Hope? Maybe. But it was small, fragile, like a candle flame in a storm.

McGonagall stood, smoothing her robes as she stepped around the desk. "I know this hasn’t been an easy start to your time here, but remember, Miss Y/N, you have resources at your disposal. The staff is here to help, and you are welcome in any of my classes, any of the library’s shelves, and any space in this castle. Hogwarts belongs to you just as much as it belongs to any other student."

Y/N nodded, her smile a little more genuine this time, though the weight on her shoulders hadn’t entirely lifted. "Thank you, Professor," she said softly. "I’ll try to remember that."

McGonagall gave her a firm nod, her usual strictness returning as she straightened up. "Good. And if you ever need to talk, my door is always open."

As Y/N left the office, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the corridor, she couldn’t help but feel the echoes of the professor’s words following her. Maybe finding her place at Hogwarts wasn’t about waiting for something to happen. Maybe it was about creating it for herself.

But even with that thought in mind, the uncertainty still lingered. The path ahead was uncharted, and Y/N wasn’t sure if she was ready to walk it alone.

---

The Winter Holidays

As the winter holidays approached, the once lively halls of Hogwarts slowly began to quiet. The usual hum of students bustling between classes was replaced by the soft crunch of snow underfoot and the faint echoes of laughter as groups of friends said their goodbyes before heading home for the break. For most, the promise of warm fireplaces, family gatherings, and holiday cheer awaited them beyond the castle walls. But not for Y/N.

She had decided to stay behind. The thought of returning home felt hollow—there wasn’t much waiting for her there, just the cold familiarity of a place that never truly felt like home. And though Hogwarts hadn’t given her the sense of belonging she craved, the idea of leaving, even for a short time, filled her with a strange sort of dread. Here, at least, she could linger in the possibility of something more. Something better.

As Christmas drew near, the Great Hall was transformed into a breathtaking winter wonderland. Towering evergreen trees, draped with enchanted garlands, glittered with lights and ornaments that shimmered in hues of gold and silver. Icicles, charmed to sparkle but never melt, hung from the enchanted ceiling, casting rainbows across the room. Candles floated overhead, their soft glow adding warmth to the scene.

The few students who had remained for the holidays gathered around the long tables, their faces lit with the joy of shared stories and laughter. It was a smaller, more intimate group, and the air was filled with a quieter, but no less genuine, excitement. Y/N had been invited to join them—kind offers from friendly faces who noticed her sitting off to the side—but she had politely declined, unable to shake the feeling that she was still an outsider, no matter how many invitations came her way.

From her seat on the fringes, Y/N watched the others interact. There was something about the easy way they laughed and leaned into one another, their shared history evident in the warmth of their exchanges. She longed to be a part of that closeness, to sink into the comfort of friendship without constantly questioning her place. But even as the thought crossed her mind, a familiar weight settled on her chest. The fear that no matter what she did, she would always be on the outside, looking in.

Her food sat mostly untouched on the plate in front of her, and after a while, the noise of the Great Hall became too much. The laughter, the joy—it wasn’t hers to share. It wasn’t hers to feel. Pushing back her chair, Y/N quietly excused herself and slipped out of the hall, unnoticed amidst the cheer.

The castle was eerily quiet as she wandered through its snow-dusted corridors, the soft glow of candlelight from the sconces casting long shadows on the walls. Outside the tall windows, snow fell in gentle flurries, swirling and dancing in the moonlight. It was beautiful, serene even, but the quiet only made the emptiness inside her more pronounced. The emptiness she had tried so hard to ignore.

She stopped in front of one of the large windows, her footsteps muffled by the thick stone beneath her. The chill from the outside seeped through the glass, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she pressed her hand to the cold surface, her fingers tracing patterns in the fog her breath left behind. Beyond the glass, the world seemed peaceful—snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky, the grounds blanketed in white, untouched by any footsteps. It was as if the world outside the castle was asleep, while she remained awake, caught between two places that didn’t feel like hers.

Her breath fogged the glass as she leaned closer, resting her forehead against the cool windowpane. "Where do I belong?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, as though she were afraid to hear the answer herself. The words disappeared into the stillness of the corridor, but their weight lingered in the air, heavy and unresolved.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the weight of her question. The uncertainty, the loneliness—it all pressed down on her, tightening around her chest. She had tried to be patient, to give Hogwarts time, to let herself believe that she would find her place. But with every passing day, it felt more like she was drifting further away, untethered to anything solid. Even the castle, with all its magic and wonder, couldn’t fill the growing void inside her.

Y/N opened her eyes, blinking back the sting of unshed tears. She wasn’t one to cry easily, but in this moment, standing in the stillness of the castle, the weight of everything seemed to catch up to her all at once. She wiped at her eyes quickly, not wanting to give in to the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.

With a deep breath, she pulled her hand back from the glass and let it fall to her side. There was no answer to her whispered question, no grand revelation waiting to make things easier. The snow continued to fall outside, indifferent to her feelings, and the castle remained as silent as ever.

But even in the quiet, even in the loneliness, there was something peaceful about the moment. It wasn’t the peace of belonging, but it was stillness nonetheless—a temporary reprieve from the constant noise of her thoughts.

Maybe, just for tonight, that was enough.

---

A New Kind of Belonging

As the school year slowly drew to a close, Y/N found herself reflecting on how much had changed since she first arrived at Hogwarts. What had once felt like an overwhelming maze of uncertainty was now something different—familiar, almost comforting in its vastness. Without the clear structure and identity that the other students had through their houses, she had been forced to carve out her own path, and in doing so, she found corners of the castle that felt like her own.

She had discovered hidden passageways behind ancient tapestries, secret nooks beneath staircases, and quiet alcoves where the noise of the bustling school couldn’t reach her. There were places only she seemed to know about—places where she could sit in silence and think, without the constant reminder that she didn’t quite fit into the usual categories of Hogwarts life. The faculty tower, once so isolating, had become less oppressive. It wasn’t exactly home, but it no longer felt like a prison either. It was her own little sanctuary, a place where she could return each night without the pressure of housemates or expectations.

The library, however, had become more than just an escape; it had become her true refuge. Its tall, towering shelves, filled with centuries of knowledge, had taken on an almost sacred quality in her life. She spent hours there every day, lost in the scent of old parchment and the gentle rustle of pages being turned. The books, in their quiet wisdom, had become her companions, each one offering a different kind of solace. And as the months passed, even Madam Pince, the stern librarian who once regarded her with suspicion, began to soften. She would nod in Y/N’s direction now, a quiet acknowledgment of her regular presence, as if Y/N had become part of the very fabric of the library itself.

With time, Y/N learned to navigate Hogwarts without needing the structure or guidance that the other students seemed to rely on. She didn’t need house banners hanging in the Great Hall to remind her of her identity. The colors that once filled her with envy had slowly lost their hold on her. Gryffindor’s bright reds, Slytherin’s deep greens, Ravenclaw’s blues, and Hufflepuff’s yellows—they no longer made her feel like an outsider. Instead, they were simply part of the scenery, just one of many things that made Hogwarts what it was.

She had always thought that being sorted was essential to belonging, that without a house she would never truly fit in. But by the end of the year, she realized that maybe she didn’t need the Sorting Hat to tell her where she belonged. Hogwarts was a vast place, full of mysteries and stories that spanned centuries, and there were countless ways to carve out a home within its walls. She had done just that—created her own place, on her own terms.

Standing on the platform at hogsmead station, waiting for the Hogwarts Express to carry her back to the world beyond the castle, Y/N turned to look back at the towering spires of the school in the distance. The sight of Hogwarts, framed against the late spring sky, filled her with a quiet sense of determination. It had taken time—far longer than she had anticipated—but she was no longer afraid of the uncertainty that had once clouded her mind. She might never be sorted into a house, might never wear one of the house scarves with pride or cheer with the other students during Quidditch matches, but that didn’t mean she didn’t belong.

In the end, Y/N had found that belonging wasn’t something that could be handed to you by a talking hat. It wasn’t something dictated by house points or house colors or where you sat in the Great Hall. Belonging was something you created for yourself, and that’s exactly what she had done.

The train’s whistle blew, pulling her from her thoughts. She smiled softly to herself, feeling a sense of peace she hadn’t known she was capable of. As she boarded the train, she cast one last look at the castle, her heart light.

She didn’t need a house to call Hogwarts her home. She had done that on her own, and she knew that when she returned next year, she would continue to carve out her place within its walls—one step at a time.

She would create her own belonging, and that was enough.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x reader

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blue--ingenue · 1 year ago

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soft!Sebastian headcannons - part 2

Author's Note: so flattered at the response part 1 has gotten, so here's part 2! i may be projecting a bit with the adhd headcannon, but i swear that boy at least partially has it

he’s incredibly protective of you. after losing his parents, nearly losing Anne, and knowing that you defeated Ranrok alone in fifth year, he vowed to never let any harm come to you. he knows you’re more than capable of holding your own in a fight, and his overprotective streak causes a fair amount of arguing between you both, but it stems from his love for you and desire to see you safe

much of his Crossed Wands fan base consists of younger students (including Lucan) that he’s defended from bullies over the years

absolute caffeine gremlin. drinks coffee when the house elves apparate it onto the breakfast tables, but if he can’t get his hands on a cup, he’ll settle for tea. (this is one of the reasons Earl Grey is one of the first scents you recognize while making amortentia in Potions)

usually doesn’t approve of Garreth’s ‘experiments in class’ (enjoys mischief as much as the young Weasley, but doesn’t want to jeopardize his grade), but once slipped him a few sickles to commission him for an energizing brew

knows how to braid hair, and is pretty damn good at it. Anne taught him how when they were little and he’s been doing it ever since. if MC has long hair, he’s braiding it into a neat french braid before their Crossed Wands match so that it doesn’t get in their face while fighting. some of the boys in his year with fragile masculinity scoff, but when they see half of the students in their year fawning over him. they try to learn how to braid as well

(i’m literally picturing soft Sebastian lovingly braiding MC’s hair with gentle hands before taking his place next to them and absolutely decimating their competition. the complete 180 from tender to lethal has most of the crowd swooning)

is absolutely the little spoon, but will take over as big spoon if you ask him to. whenever he’s stressed or overwhelmed from school (or the danger you often find yourselves in) he just wants to be held

has a major sweet tooth. he always has some sort of sweet with him. whether it’s a chocolate frog, a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans he’s split with Ominis, or a pastry tucked away from dinner

absolutely ADORES museums. his parents used to take him and Anne to wizarding history museums as well as the natural history museum in London. seeing artifacts up close while satiating his thirst for knowledge is his personal paradise

(possibly becomes a museum researcher after graduating. something a bit daring and dangerous that lets him put his dueling skills to use in the pursuit of contributing knowledge to his field)

has some degree of adhd that influences his impulsive decisions, risk-taking behavior, and constant switching from topic to topic. has many detentions from talking while the professor is speaking or engaging in unsanctioned spell work, but it’s not his fault classes aren’t stimulating enough

loves dueling and defense against the dark arts because he gets to engage in hands-on activities after long days of having to sit quietly and still for hours of lectures

herbology isn’t his strong suit, but one day you tell him your favorite flower and he’s determined to grow them for you. a few days later in the undercroft you notice a little self-watering potting table with a few buds poking out from the soil. there are at least five herbology books flipped open to various pages on the exact flower you mentioned with little notes scrawled in the margins

he hands you a bouquet of the flowers once they’ve grown and you swear he looks positively elated

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x y/n #fluff #soft!sebastian sallow

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demonhuntingcaterpillar · 11 months ago

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When Cursed Child was released there was uproar about the difference between Harry and Draco as fathers. Fans were upset that Draco Malfoy was such a calm, understanding father while Harry was a bit of a hot head. It was hard to grasp the distinct difference between the two characters as fathers. I’ll just resolve this whole issue with one word: Narcissa.

The biggest difference between Harry and Draco’s childhood is a mother’s love. Harry did not know what it was like to be parented or loved until he was 4 ft tall. Whereas Draco had grown up with a loving mother who cared for him while he was ill and tucked him in bed each night. Draco being such a good father to Scorpius makes sense because he had two polar opposites as parents. There was Lucius, who loves fiercely but his love is entirely conditional. And while I believe Lucius loved Narcissa more than life itself, he put his Death Eater duties and his thirst for power over his love for his son.

Narcissa was a different story entirely. Even though she married into the cause, she never took the dark mark. I believe this was because she saw what it required of Bellatrix, Regulus, and Lucius. She did not want to have to choose between Voldemort and Draco, because she knew she would always choose Draco. When Draco came of age, Lucius wanted to send Draco to Durmstrang. Even though Narcissa came from a world of pure bloods, she decided they would send Draco to Hogwarts. Prioritizing Draco’s safety over blood purity. This tells us she will choose Draco over Death Eater values. I believe losing her sisters and Regulus made Narcissa hyper aware of possible dangers and ever protective of her son. During his first year, we know it was hard on Narcissa to be away from Draco because she sent him sweets and letters daily. She is consistently protective of him, especially when Lucius must go to Azbakan. She bears her teeth and throws Sirius’s death in Harry’s face. Again, choosing Draco over anyone else, including her dead cousin Sirius. When Voldemort decides to make Draco take the mark as a punishment for Lucius’s mistakes, Narcissa sees his actions for what they are. She risks her life, along with her sister’s, in order to ask Severus to make the unbreakable vow. Narcissa gives Draco her wand during the war to be able to protect himself after Harry takes Draco’s. This leaves her and Lucius completely defenseless while Voldemort is LIVING IN THEIR HOUSE. They are in the midst of a war and Narcissa goes wandless for Draco. And finally, when Harry gives his life in the Forbidden Forest, Narcissa makes her biggest bad bitch mama bear move yet. She uses occlumency and lies to possibly the most powerful Legilimens ever, Lord Voldemort. She knows Draco is at Hogwarts, she knows he is more important to her than life itself. So when faced with this choice for maybe the billionth time in this woman’s life - Voldemort or Draco - she chooses Draco. Something her husband never had the balls to do.

So don’t come for me telling me Draco couldn’t have been a better parent than Harry. Don’t come for me telling me how terrible his father was and how there is no way a prat like Draco Malfoy could be understanding, forgiving, and loving. He knew what it was like to grow up with people hating/fearing him because of his father. He grew up knowing what it was like to be in the shadow of grand expectations, and what it was like to fail them. He grew up knowing the love of a mother’s touch and feeling Narcissa’s unconditional love. Draco Malfoy is an amazing father because Narcissa was an amazing mother. She put her love for Draco before blood status, before her husband, before life itself… which is exactly why Draco prioritized Scorpius’s happiness above everything else.

There’s a reason fanfic writers do everything but portray Narcissa as the Virgin Mary!!! She was just as good of a mother as Molly Weasley and Lily Potter. She was just as strong and brave and protective as Minerva McGonagall.

Sweet, loving Daddy Draco is canon and I will die on this hill.

#harry potter #hp #draco malfoy #scorpius #narcissa malfoy #lucius malfoy #draco #cursed child #harry potter and the cursed child #jk rowling #mothers love #canon #narcissa black #Narcissa #Scorpius Malfoy

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nancy-reads · 11 months ago

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am I the one you think about?

part 2!!

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: having your heart broken before love really blossomed hurts more than it should. but fred's flirty banter never quits. maybe your love story isn't quite over?

warnings: slightly angsty but with a happy ending

authors note: i am so sorry for how long this took! school got crazy and college applications are a nightmare. however, i hope you all had a good holiday season and enjoy this late christmas gift!

part one

CROSS-POSTED TO AO3

You refused to cry as you stomped back to your shop. Fred could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything. He just flirted with you like crazy and you developed a massive crush on him.

And of course, the girl Fred was kissing was gorgeous. You couldn’t get her face out of your mind. Clear, gorgeous dark skin and eyes, black hair in a braided ponytail that looked effortless, and a tall figure that looked like she was meant to be a model for Quidditch robes.

You didn’t know how you even thought you could pull someone like him. Fred was gorgeous and strong and funny, and you were just…well, you. Not anything special.

You swore as you stepped into a massive puddle near your shop. Tears were beginning to prick your eyes, but you blinked them away. You would not cry over a man you knew not even twenty-four hours.

And it would be better if it didn’t work out, you thought. You were going to be very busy with your shop once it opened, and you wouldn’t have time for any sort of relationship. It would be an absolute logistical nightmare, and you had to focus on your business.

You nodded to yourself as you stepped inside your shop, decorated with candles, fairy lights, and plants. This was where you belonged. This was the important thing, not some stupid boy you met once.

MAGICAL HERBS AND HEALING GRAND OPENING!!!

You smiled to yourself as you lowered your wand and took in the exterior of your shop. Everything looked perfect. The plants were in place, the widow displays were shining, and best of all, the banner hung front and center, inviting anyone and everyone to come in.

People were beginning to trickle into Diagon Alley for some early morning shopping, so you rushed inside your shop and flicked the sign from open to closed. You bounced on your heels as you did some final checks to make sure that everything was in place.

You had already checked about seven times, but there wasn’t any harm in one more, was there?

Soon enough, you didn’t have time to check anything, too busy ringing up the barrage of customers who entered your store. The line was spread throughout the shop, and you couldn’t stop smiling as your products and potions flew off the shelves.

Your dreams were coming true. Everything was running smoothly, the customers were marveling at the aesthetics of your shop, and you’d gotten many promises to come back.

But the day couldn’t stay perfect forever, and your eyes widened as a familiar face entered the shop. You couldn’t help but notice Fred’s handsome face and body, but you cursed yourself. You would not be thirsting for a taken man.

Attempting to look as busy as possible, you straightened the boxes behind you and fussed with the register. You could feel his stare on your back, and it took every ounce of your will not to turn.

He is a taken man. He has a girlfriend.

And he is still staring at you.

After a generous amount of time, Fred cleared his throat. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment, and finally began to turn around. As slowly as humanly possible.

“That excited to see me, huh?”

You ignored him.

“And what are you looking for today sir?”

His eyes widened. “Sir? You haven’t forgotten my name already, have you?”

Taken man. Taken man. Taken man.

This was going to be an exercise in self-control.

“Just-” you paused. “Come on, Fred-”

“I knew you remembered-”

“This isn’t a great time-”

“Well then tell me when is,” Fred said. “I’d be glad to arrange a date.”

Why did he have to say these things?

“Are you really going to make me do this now?” you asked, anger coloring your tone. “It's opening day, and I’d really rather you not ruin it.”

“Ruin it?” he asked, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“You know what? Fine,” you snapped. “Come here after closing. We can talk then. I have customers to help, and I’m sure you do too.”

Fred’s eyebrows were scrunched together, and his mouth pulled into a frown. “I-” he paused when he looked at your face, and a defeated expression appeared on his face. “Okay.”

You stared at him as he left, and a part of you wondered if you’d hallucinated the whole thing. He seemed so earnest, like he actually wanted to talk to you. Like you were important, not some other girl he wanted to have on the side.

But you couldn’t think like that. He probably had some other ulterior motive.

You turned to the next customer in line. “Hi, how can I help you today?”

You had to give him credit, Fred was at your shop door at six pm sharp. You tried to ignore him for a while, but he eventually caught your eye as you wiped down the counters.

He gave you a big smile as you opened the door, and part of you wanted to melt. His smile was so bright and full of ardent hope. His freckles made him look younger, and it really added to the sweetness of his face.

“So,” Fred began after a moment. “Why didn’t you come see the shop? It’s been weeks.”

You sighed. “Look, Fred. I just don’t think us talking like this is appropriate.”

He scrunched his brows. “Appropriate? Why not?” his eyes widened. “I haven’t been impolite, have I? I swear I’ve never meant to say anything weird, I just like to have a laugh-”

“No! Nothing like that,” you said. “I’m not interested in the kind of relationship you want.” There you said it. You would not be someone’s side piece or a good fuck. You wanted something real.

You should have known he was too good to be true as soon as you hit him with those boxes.

“Oh,” Fred said, his face falling. “I’m so sorry that I assumed-” he paused, “I mean, yeah, sorry, you’re really busy so…yeah.” He forced a smile and stepped back. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you.”

You ignored the disappointment in your chest as the bells rang, signifying Fred had left the shop.

The shop was still packed a few days later. You supposed word had spread about your low prices and fast wait times because potions were flying off the shelves. You’d begun to think about hiring someone else to help check people out while you brewed in the back.

Plus, people seemed to like the idea of a small A&E in the back, and you’d definitely need more help with that.

You’d just finished restocking some salves when he walked in. His brown eyes sparkled when they met yours, and that easy, earnest smile was back on his face. There was no hesitation or the anxiety you’d seen the other day. He was acting like nothing had happened.

You hesitatingly smiled when he reached the counter, but your jaw dropped when you noticed the bruise that had formed around his eye.

“Holy shit, Fred!” without thinking, you reached to touch his black eye. “What happened?”

He scoffed. “This is nothing. We just had a slight malfunction with one of our new products.”

“This doesn’t look very slight.”

“I’m fine. But,” he smirked. “I do appreciate your concern.”

“It’s professional concern,” you muttered as you searched for the anti-bruise cream behind the counter. “You’re not special.”

Fred’s jaw dropped dramatically. “You hurt me, dear lady.”

You snorted. “I think you can take it.”

Fred’s hand brushed yours as you handed him the cream and the anti-swelling potion. Your cheeks flushed, and he gave you a sweet smile as he left the shop.

You could feel yourself smiling throughout the rest of the day, and you cursed yourself every time.

He isn’t actually interested. He’s just a flirt.

The next time Fred came in was a week later, and this time he had a cut branching up his arm. Thankfully, it was nearly closing time and most of your customers had trickled out by then.

“What is this?” you fretted, grabbing his arm. “You hurt yourself again?”

“It was just a small incident with one of the pygmy puffs,” he chuckled. “They don’t like being told what to do.”

“Probably because they’re your orders,” you joked. “They can probably sense the stupidity from a mile away.”

“Hey!” he mock-yelled. “They don’t listen to George either.”

“My point still stands,” you said, tapping the cut with your wand. You held back a shiver as your thumb brushed his strong bicep. Was it just you, or did he have goosebumps?

“You don’t even know George.”

“He’s your brother, so if he’s anything like you, I’d be worried about his intelligence.”

Fred pouted. “They don’t listen to Angelina either, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so I think they just don’t listen to anyone.”

You paused your cleaning of his cut for a moment and tried to make your face as neutral as possible. “Who’s Angelina?” Could she be the girl he was kissing?

“Oh she’s George’s girlfriend,” he said, oblivious. You breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I don’t know how they’re still together, honestly she could do so much better, but she likes him, I suppose.”

You hummed, finally letting go of his arm to grab a potion. The cut was just barely a scratch now, but you wanted to make sure it didn’t get infected.

“Make sure you drink this, Fred, tonight and tomorrow morning. It’ll wash out any weird pygmy puff or whatever you call it infection from your body.”

“Yes ma’am!” he saluted and headed for the door. You couldn’t help but watch him make his way back from his shop, a spring in his step and a smile on his gorgeous face.

It kept happening. Fred came in with food poisoning, many more bruises, and even boils at one point. They were apparently from his inventions and experiments, but you were starting to get worried. Who gets injured this much?

The last straw was when he walked in with an injured leg. Your A&E hadn’t been opened yet, but you had hired a retired healer to run the counter so you could run in and out on occasion.

You were in the back, mixing a new potion when there was a loud commotion at the entrance. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was but continued to stir the liquid until Martha poked her head into your office.

“It’s your boy,” she said. “And I think you’ll want to see this.”

That got you out of your seat immediately. Most of the time Fred’s injuries honestly seemed more like excuses to come see you, for what reason you didn’t know, but Martha’s tone made it seem much more serious.

“What’s wro-” fear shot through you as you saw the pain on Fred’s face, and the fact that he was leaning on….a direct copy of himself?

You weren’t sure whether to be more worried or confused. Had Fred somehow invented a cloning machine?

As you looked closer, you realized that they weren’t completely alike. The person next to Fred’s face was more rounded, and his nose was slightly bigger. His face was a bit uneven, and there was something off with his ear, but you couldn’t tell from far away.

Suddenly, it all clicked.

“You must be George!” you exclaimed. “Fred, you never told me that you had an identical twin!”

“Pleased to finally meet you,” George said, turning to Fred. “I can’t believe you never mentioned we were twins!” He glanced at you, mischief in his eyes. “It’s like you don’t care about me or something.”

“Shut up, George,” Fred said, turning your attention back to him. “I’m sorry to bother you again, darling-” your heart jumped, “-but I’m in quite a bit of pain and I was wondering if you could fix me up again?”

He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt.

“Yes, of course,” you scooped Fred’s other arm over your neck and helped George carry him into the patient room. “Martha! Can you hold down the fort for a bit?”

You didn’t wait to hear her affirmative before slowly and carefully lowering Fred down onto the patient bed. His face was contorted in pain, and you couldn’t help yourself from squeezing his shoulder in support once he was safely in bed.

“Drink this,” you said as you passed him a cup full of silver liquid. “It’ll make the pain go away for a bit.” Fred gulped it down, and a goofy smile filled his face when he finished.

“You’re so pretty,” he said lazily.

You could feel heat creeping up your face, but you ignored him.

“Sleep well.”

You cleared your throat and turned to George.

“Judging from the dirt and the Quidditch robes, I assume he fell off his broom?”

George nodded. “Yeah. He got distracted and a Bludger came flying toward him and…” he made a violent gesture, “Crash!”

You nodded. “Did he fall unconscious at any point, or hit his head?”

“He was a bit confused at first,” George said, hesitating. “He kept asking to come here though. My girlfriend kept trying to convince him to go to St. Mungos, but he wasn’t having it.” George smiled. “Are you two together? Because he kept asking specifically for you.”

Call the fire department, because your face was scorching. “I-” you stammered. “I thought he had a girlfriend or something?”

George snorted. “Fred? A girlfriend? He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. I was honestly starting to wonder if he was gay and just afraid to tell me or something.”

“Really?” Your mind was spinning. Had you actually just hallucinated seeing Fred kiss someone outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes? “I thought saw him kiss a girl outside your shop a few months ago.” You sighed for a moment. “They looked really happy, so I didn’t want to intervene or anything.”

“That would be news to me,” he paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Wait, what did she look like?”

There was an insistent knock on the door.

“Sorry, we’re busy right now!” you called. “Ask the counter if you need anything.”

The door burst open, and your jaw dropped when the women came crashing in. She was much less put together than the last time you’d seen her, her hair flying everywhere and her cheeks flushed. But she had the same dark skin and hair, and the same commanding appearance that made you see why Fred liked her.

“I’m sorry,” you said politely. “But I’m currently busy with a patient. Please wait outside or go to St. Mungos if you-”

“She's fine,” George interrupted. “This is Angelina, my girlfriend.”

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. It wasn’t Fred you’d seen kissing a girl, it was George. Who was kissing his girlfriend. Like a normal person.

You were completely and utterly stupid.

“Angelina, this is that girl that Fred won’t shut up about.”

“Oh excellent!” She strolled over to you and stared at you seriously. “Please go out with him. Just to put him out of his misery. All I hear about anymore is him whining that some beautiful girl from the shops won’t date him and I need it to stop,” Her eyes were wide and solemn. “Please.”

George snorted. “Way to expose Freddie there.”

Angelina grinned back at him. “I think he needs it.”

“Well,” you clasped your hands, ignoring the redness in your cheeks. “I’m just going to do a quick skull exam just in case he hit his head, and then I’ll set his leg and let him rest.”

You couldn’t believe you’d messed it up this bad. Of course, you’d just seen Fred’s identical twin kissing his girlfriend. How hadn’t you thought of it before?

You quickly began your work, murmuring spells to yourself as you ensured everything was fine. You winced at the loud crack that sounded when Fred’s leg was set, but a final “Episkey,” finally healed the break.

You turned to face George and Angelina, who were watching with rapt attention. “Fred needs to sleep for an hour or two, just to make sure he doesn’t feel all the pain right away. I’d prefer to keep him here, just to make sure he stays asleep and pain-free, and I’ll also be able to check him over again once he wakes,” you said. “But I’ll do whatever you guys want.”

Angelina elbowed George before he could speak. “I think Fred will be perfectly content with staying here for a few hours.”

“Yup,” George said. “He’ll be fine.”

You’d been running in to check on Fred for what probably was close to every 5 minutes for the past hour and a half. Martha had given you multiple suspicious nods and knowing looks every time you stepped out of the back room, and she winked at you as she left at the end of her shift.

The store was closed and empty after another long and busy day, and the urge to go check on Fred was already pulling at you.

Just in case.

It seemed your intuition had been correct, as he began to stir the moment you opened the door. His nose twitched adorably, and there was a small smile on his face as his eyes opened, the sleep still present in his stare.

Without thinking, you stroked his hair, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. He actually leaned into your touch, the smile on his face growing. It was all so domestic, and you couldn’t stop your own smile from spreading across your face.

“Your smile is so pretty,” Fred mumbled. “You should do that more.”

Warmth filled your face. “I like yours too,” you sat on the edge of his bed. “Does anything still hurt?”

“Not when I’m looking at someone as beautiful as you.”

“You are shameless!” you giggled, smacking him on the side.

“Are you slapping a patient?” Fred teased. “I’m gonna have to report you to the Ministry.”

“You’re making me wonder if you have brain damage that I missed somewhere.” You said as you helped Fred sit up on the side of the bed. “Let me check again.”

Fred, much to your surprise, passed all of his exams with flying colors.

“First time that’s happened,” he joked.

“I guess that means you’re sane enough for me to do this.”

You leaned in and brought your lips against his. Fred gasped into your mouth and responded eagerly, his hand rising to cup your face and bring you closer. His mouth was soft and gentle, and you almost wanted to cry with how sweet he was. One of your arms wrapped around his neck, while your other hand grabbed his bicep.

Fred leaned back for a moment, chuckling. “I guess you’re finally free to touch my arms now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend that you haven’t been thirsting over my arms the entire time we’ve known each other.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He laughed again as he leaned back in, taking control of the kiss this time. He was more passionate now, and you let out a gasp as his tongue brushed against yours. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and you had to break the kiss because you couldn’t stop smiling.

After you leaned back, Fred just stared at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. Sure, he was already handsome, but that smile made him look ten times better, and even younger than before. His freckles made his smile boyish, and there was childlike joy in his face as he looked at you.

“What made you change your mind?” Fred asked after a moment, his brows furrowing. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”

“So here’s the thing,” you laughed nervously. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”

Fred’s eyes widened. “I think you’re the one who needs to get your brain checked, love. Because I think I was being pretty obvious.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be nice to me now.” You poked his chest. “But remember when I told you I’d come over to see your shop the day after we met?”

“Vividly.”

“Yeah, so I ended up seeing George and Angelina kissing in front of the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and since someone,” you stared at him pointedly, “didn’t tell me he had an identical twin, I assumed it was you.”

Fred was silent for a moment. “I have been coming to your shop nonstop for months, and you still thought I had a girlfriend the whole time?”

“Well now it seems stupid-”

He kissed you lightly before you could finish. “You can never make fun of me for being clueless again.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to upstage me.”

Fred wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You couldn’t stop the stupid smile that was on your face, and you were sure Fred had a similar one right next to you. He squeezed your shoulder, and you leaned your head against him. Warmth enveloped you, and you’d never been so comfortable before.

“Don’t worry, love,” Fred said. “You’re the only one I think about.”

#fred weasley x reader #writing #fanfic #fred weasley #harry potter #fluff #nancy's writing #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasely x yn #reader insert #nancy’s writing

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newbienewness · 3 months ago

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Can we please get some more sexy Garreth in a kilt before you go on your break? I hope you have a lovely break and enjoy your time away from tumblr!! ❤️❤️

SOOOOO sorry it took ages but hope these are enough for your thirst on this wet Weasley Wednesday

Thanks bb @thesuperiorfeeling

#bite that tummy #hogwarts legacy #ai generated #ai image #garreth weasley ai #you ask i deliver #Wet Weasley Wednesday #weasley wednesday

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rainydayathogwarts · 1 year ago

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My favourite fics from other authors!!

MCU:

daisies - peter parker by @starktonyx

As it was - Steve x reader, Bucky x reader by @heli0s-writes

Never again - bucky barnes by @houseravenclaws

tap - bucky barnes by @houseravenclaws

the box - peter parker by @waitimcomingtoo

incorrect quotes ft. peter x y/n by @eunoiathewriter

begging with scott lang by @ragnarachel

trouble in paradise - peter parker by @ptergwen

your mess - peter parker by @peterbenjiparker

stark!reader x peter by @ptergwen

phone sex blurb w peter by @sgrantsgf

twenty bucks Peter parker by @deathbyathousandspiders

Harry Potter

interrupted - neville longbottom by @nevillesimp

the one that got away - harry potter by @george-fabian-weasley

angry love confession in the rain - sirius black by @salazarslytherin

jealousy, jealousy - james potter by @letterstotheflre

Poly!marauders smut by @strawberrysodaslut

New people - James Potter by @ddejavvu

A date? - James Potter by @iamgonnagetyouback

Hopelessly in love - James Potter by @marauroon

Criminal Minds

Touch starved - Spencer Reid by @donald4spiderman

Your relationship with Hotch is exposed by @ddejavvu

You walk in on Spencer talking to his fish by @radiant-reid

You obsess over Hotch and he overhears EVERYTHING by @kryptonitejelly

The team finds out you and Hotch are married by @kryptonitejelly

Jack calls you 'momma', outing you and Hotch's relationship by @kryptonitejelly

Another one where Jack outs you and hotch's relationship by @kryptonitejelly

A third one where jack outs your relationship with Hotch by @kryptonitejelly

The one where everyone finds out - You and Spencer (reid) are in love but you just don't know. by @reidscanehand

Don't think I don't like you - Spencer Reid by @luveline

Reid wears Glasses - Spencer Reid by @luveline

The fear of falling apart - Spencer Reid by @pathologicalreid

Lipstick trail - Aaron Hotchner by @ddejavvu

Stranger things

Whispering dirty things into Eddie's ear as a dare by @erosso

Eddie being pussy drunk - Eddie Munson by @subbypeterparker

Admiring Steve Harrington by @masmybeloved (deactivated acc)

Three's a crowd, but four's a party - Eddie, Steve, Robin x reader by @glasvera

Out loud - Eddie Munson by @iheartyouyou

Billy Hargrove noticing the little things by @fbfh

Bi!fem!reader x steve harrington by @eufezco

Eddie and daughter!Roan x reader series by @luveline

Dead wrong - Steve Harrington by @lucasnclair

The fair - Eddie Munson by @lovebugism

Celebrities

Chris being in love with Y/N for 7 mins video by @astranva

You'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me - Tom Holland by @waitimcomingtoo

Thirst tweets with Chris Evans and Y/N L/N by @put-trash-here

The friendship test - Joseph Quinn by @magicchai

ground rules - Joesph Quinn by @icallhimjoey

#stranger things #stranger things fics #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminalmindsfandom #criminalminds #criminal minds fics #hogwarts #harry potter #wizarding world #celebrities #chris evans #tom holland #mcu imagine #marvel #marvel smut #marvel cinematic universe #rainydayathogwarts

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galaxostars · 4 months ago

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Transfest celebration

Hi everyone ! Pride month may be over but Transfest is still very much on going and so many beautiful fics/art keep coming out every day, so feel free to check them out and give them some much deserved love <3

I will be reblogging this post every time a new work comes out so stay tuned for that + the authors' reveal next week!

The Magic of You : 13.9k, E, Petunia/Severus, James/Lily, Eileen/Tobias

One cigarette can change everything. Or when two people realise they are far more alike than they are different.

can i tell you something? : 2.7k, G, Regulus/Remus

Regulus needs to tell Remus something.

What Are Friends For? : 2k, M, Draco/Harry, Hermione/Ron

Draco offers to help Harry out with a certain problem he’s having, courtesy of starting T.

Sun's out, Guns out : art, T, Charlie Weasley

Charlie Weasley has much to be proud about. All his scars are fucking cool, the dragon claws, the eyebrow slit, the stretch marks on his hips, and ... oh yeah : his top surgery scars ! Charlie Weasley is a hot transmasc dude, what do you want more from me i'm thirsting

Full Indulgence : 14.7k, E, Fleur/Nymphadora, Nymphadora/Bill, Fleur/Nymphadora/Bill

Tonks and Bill used to fuck. Bill met Fleur, and friends-with-benefits became friends again. Now, Bill’s engaged to Fleur. Tonks thinks Fleur is hot. Really hot. Tonks cannot stop thinking about her. Bill finds out. Bill has a solution. Tonks is caught in the middle, in the best way possible.

brother, I've returned : 2.7k, G, Regulus & Sirius

Sirius and Regulus reunite after their parents' deaths. written for the HP TransFest, prompt #82: Brother, Madds Buckley or FTM Sirius left home many years ago. After his parents death he must return for the reading of the will and face the brother he left behind

I don't wanna be anything other than me : 4.3k, T, Sirius/Remus

Remus has been thinking about confiding in the boys that he is trans and a werewolf, because he is tired of hiding who he is. Lily is his best friend, but living in the girl's dormitory is taking it's toll. A story of friendship, opening up to others, and accceptance. Prompt 33: Remus ftm taking to McGonagall and the boys about switching dorms

your friends are a fate that befell me : 12.8k, E, Regulus/Sirius, Regulus/James

Self prompted : Established Sirius/Regulus, Sirius wants Regulus to make James feel better after his breakup

Fawning Over You by toxik_angel - a Podfic podfic length 4.5-5 hours, E, Draco/Harry

Harry's not sure which would be worse: Ron and Hermione finding out he buys Draco Malfoy's premium pornography and an extra gift off his wishlist every week, or Draco Malfoy finding out Harry has a horrible, distracting, embarrassing crush on him. Alt title: Whore-ton Hears a Harry.

force our smiles, baby, half dead (from comparing myself to everyone else around me) : 3.8k, M, Remus/James

Five times James was asked how he was feeling + one time Remus was asked the same.

The bleedin' hearts, the arts and that other stuff : 55.9k, E, Remus/James, Dorcas/Lily, Regulus/Sirius, Barty/Pandora/Evan

Sometimes "coming out" means going stealth with your hookup. Sometimes "going stealth" means that your hookup gets the wrong idea that you (a book-loving pacifist who writes self-proclaimed sad boi music in your spare time) are a repeat offender in the back alley knife fight department. Oops? It's all fun and games in love and war for Remus and James until somebody gets hurt. This is a FINISHED FIC With an eleventh chapter - epilogue coming post-creator reveals <33

Between These Walls : 40k, E, Harry/Severus, Luna/Rolf Scamander

Casting an eye to his former student, Severus saw Potter’s head loll onto the thin pillow. The young man faced the ceiling, expression inert and dull. Why was he in a hospital bed next to Potter three years after the war? In which Harry quits the Auror force to recover from a bout of depression, Severus starts an owl-order business from his country house, and they both learn what it means to be in a relationship for the first time.

Wine Drunk : 2.8k, T, Sirius/Remus

Prompt: Sirius is falling in love with new member of order (remus homeschooled) and notices several things and tries to put together pieces

It's not over yet : 6.9k, T, Lily & Severus, Poppy & Severus

Taking self-made potions and performing a ritual at Ostara in his fourth year - Severus Snape had thought of many aspects while planning his transition. Was there something he purposefully ignored until the last second? Certainly. Severus struggles to navigate both his parents' reaction and the reality he has to face: people will ask questions regarding his new form. Severus is sure he is no "young woman" but rather a lad, yet telling other people is intimidating. At least he got his friends and a surprise ally.

moving into me : 5.2k, T, Hermione/Ron

Veronica "Ronny" Weasley always knew something was "off" but Ronny didn't understand what it was until the Yule Ball shenanigans during fourth year. Submitted for 2024 Trans Fest Prompt 6: "Trans male Ron who doesn’t realize/come out until a few years into Hogwarts."

Make sure to leave some kudos and comments to the authors 🏳️‍⚧️🫶🏻

#ao3 #fic rec #ao3 writer #transfest #trans fiction #transgender #trans artwork #trans pride #harry potter fic rec #trans character #ao3 link #fanfiction

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oldhotcinnam0n · 1 year ago

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Okay, woke up at 2:00 AM so just going to start Thirsty Thursday bright and early with sexy Weasley.

#hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #weasley #sexy #thirst trap #thirsty thursday #sexy weasley #the abs #the freckles #the hair #yum

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pluviowriting · 5 months ago

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Her Biggest Fan

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: SMUT, characters aged up, established relationship, language, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected pinv sex(don’t try this at home, use protection), creampie, size kink, praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, munch Garreth (he needs a warning imo), aftercare

Word Count: 3.6k

beater!Garreth Weasley x f!Hufflepuff!seeker!MC

Repost from old blog @/pluvpluvpluv

A/N: Enjoy this brainworm that was born of a night of me, @marketfreshfics and @ellivenollivander thirsting over men in crop tops <3

There were few things Garreth Weasley loved more than quidditch. Being able to play again after Headmaster Black banned it fifth year felt like a breath of fresh air. He wasn’t the only student that had been excited at the start of their sixth year. Imelda Reyes had thrown a celebration so rowdy, some students feared that he would cancel the season again to punish them for it. There had been no incidents during sixth year too, which meant he had been able to play his favorite game during his last year too. While Garreth was disappointed that Gryffindor hadn’t made it to the quidditch cup, he wasn't having a bad time in the stands.

He was surrounded by a sea of golden yellow, staring across the pitch at the rival sea of emerald green. His own teammates were beside him and they were all causing a scene cheering for Hufflepuff. Arguably, after him, Natty and Leander were the loudest. He had help from his seeker in making his championship outfit. He wanted to ensure that he was the biggest Hufflepuff fan in the stands, not just MC’s - because the latter was a given. She had helped him transfigure MC’s practice jersey, after stealing it from her dorm that morning with some assistance from Poppy Sweeting, into a slightly loose fitting cropped tee. With summer fast approaching, he had anticipated the weather being warmer, and he was glad he was right. His girlfriend’s house took up the entire front of the crop top, and the back was reserved for her last name. His face lit up as he watched her fly directly in front of where he and his friends sat, flying around the pitch like she had been born on a broom instead of only flying for the last two years.

“Woo! MC!” He cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered after her as loud as he could.

She took a break from hunting for the golden glint of the snitch and looked towards where she heard her boyfriend’s voice come from. She was instantly filled with regret. What was meant to be a quick glance and a wink turned into an ogling session. She was clenching her jaw to keep it from falling all the way to the grass of the pitch as she saw him in her house colors. She had no idea where he had found that shirt, but it fit him perfectly, cutting off an inch or two above his belly button and showing off his toned stomach from his own quidditch workouts. Her eyes trailed down the copper happy trail she was intimately familiar with until she reached the waistband of his pants and she couldn’t see any further. Her eyes moved up, observing his broad chest and his arms. The sleeves were skin tight on his biceps, which seemed to bulge even when he wasn’t trying.

‘Godsdamned beater arms,’ she internally cursed, but her eyes were still stuck on him and moving upwards until she caught his face.

Her eyes found her favorite shade of green and realized she had been caught staring instead of playing her game. Her boyfriend winked at her before turning to show her his back. That was when it clicked what he was wearing and she knew she was going to either kill or worship Natsai Onai later for nicking it from her dorm. Seeing her last name across his broad back made her debate abandoning the game and taking her boyfriend into the prep tent and casting a muffling charm, but thankfully Amit’s broadcasted voice finally snapped her out of her daze.

“It looks like Reyes has spotted the snitch and she’s making a break towards it!”

Her eyes grew wide and she whipped around, looking for Imelda and hoping to catch a glimpse of gold as she headed that way. As she flew away, she once again heard her name and she pushed just a little harder. Thankfully, with the practice she had and the upgrades from her fifth year, it wasn’t hard to catch up to Imelda, but the Slytherin still had an advantage.

MC still hadn’t spotted the snitch.

Knowing her competition was far too competitive to try and throw her off course when she could see what they were both after, she just stuck to Slytherin’s captain.

It felt like they were soaring through and around the pitch for hours before Imelda finally slowed down.

“What happened Melda? Lose it?” She taunted, a smirk settled on her lips as she tried to catch her breath.

“Go back to eye fucking Weasley. Don’t worry about the snitch, I’ll catch it for you.”

MC just laughed before leaving the Slytherin captain behind. She wasn’t going to find it any faster sitting there and talking trash. As she flew around, using every ounce of self control to not let her gaze drift back to the Hufflepuff side of the stands for longer than it took for her to try and find a glint of gold against the yellow, she could still hear Garreth’s voice no matter where she was. Even next to the Slytherin stands, she could hear him over the jeers from the field of green and silver.

Then, there it was. The golden snitch.

MC didn’t even spare a glance at Imelda as she gave chase to the tiny flying ball. She heard Amit announce that she had found it this time and she knew that if Imelda hadn’t spotted it earlier, she’d be on her tail soon enough.

“Come on, you bastard,” she huffed, trying to will her broom to move faster.

She didn’t let up as she realized she was gaining on it, her gaze laser focused. Not wanting to lose her chance, she shot her arm out and almost screamed when she felt her fingers wrap around the cold metal.

The second it registered, she held her closed fist over her head and she diverted her broom to move back towards the center of the pitch.

“MC caught the snitch! Hufflepuff wins the cup!”

The second everyone’s favorite Ravenclaw finished announcing her accomplishment, another voice boomed through the open air.

“That’s my girl! That’s my fucking girl!”

MC laughed, immediately swarmed by her teammates as they all landed, but her eyes never left the stands. She blew a kiss up towards where she knew Garreth was sitting before she let herself get swallowed up by the excitement.

~~~~~

Leaving the team tent, still on a high, she intended to look for Garreth. She didn’t have to look far, and really she didn’t have to look at all. The moment he saw her leave the tent, his arms were wrapped around her waist and he lifted her off the ground in his embrace.

“There she is! The hero of Hufflepuff!”

MC laughed, her face buried in his neck. “You are a terror. I could hear you over the Slytherins.”

“Just means that I’m doing my job as your personal cheerleader.”

He set her down with a wink, leaning down to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss. She reciprocated, her touch just as sweet as his. Her hands moved from his shoulders down to his exposed sides and her thumbs started rubbing circles into his skin.

“I see that. You’ve got the uniform and everything, sneaky boy.” She hummed as she moved her lips to his neck, still dragging her fingers across his bare skin. “I could really go for a bath. It would be a terrible, terrible shame if I broke into the prefect bathroom alone while everyone else was celebrating my victory...”

“Well, I’m sure you’re exhausted from all that flying. Perhaps I should accompany you. To make sure the stairs don’t give you any trouble.” Garreth taunted her right back, gently squeezing her hips. “Come along, champion.”

~~~~~

The second the bathroom door closed behind them, MC cast a locking charm and turned her attention to Garreth. Her lips were on his in an instant, this kiss needier than the one he had graced her with when they reunited after the game.

“I cannot believe,” she huffed, pulling back slightly to start ridding herself of her quidditch uniform, “you turned my practice jersey into something so revealing…”

“My only regret is almost costing you the game. I didn’t realize you’d have such a…reaction.”

Garreth’s eyes dipped from her face to her bare breasts as she managed to get them free from the confines of her clothes. He truly thought she was the most gorgeous witch he had ever seen. He backed her up against the wall, kissing his way down her neck until he took one of her nipples in his mouth. He hummed at the taste of her skin, his gaze flicking up to her face as he kissed across her chest to make sure her other breast got the same attention. Satisfied with his work, he kissed his way down MC’s torso and left a trail of pale marks in his wake. Settling on his knees, he pulled back slightly to look up at the woman of his dreams. He didn’t need to look at his hands while removing the rest of her uniform, which allowed him to soak in just how amazing she looked from this angle.

“Merlin, MC. So. Fucking. Pretty. Perfect. Gorgeous.”

Every compliment was punctuated with a kiss to her inner thigh. Once he reached his destination, he spread her with his fingers and moaned at the sight.

“Hello pretty,” he murmured before licking up with the flat of his tongue.

Feeling his tongue moving through her folds and flicking over her clit immediately removed the question of if he was truly talking to her pussy from her mind. A low moan fell from her lips as her hands tangled in his copper hair. Her head dropped back against the wall and she felt him lifting one of her legs to rest over his shoulder. She looked down and almost moaned at the sight. Garreth was looking up at her, his lips were wrapped around her clit and she could feel him alternating between sucking and using his tongue to rub circles. The hottest thing about this angle was seeing that her thigh was practically the size of his shoulder. Quidditch had done wonders for her physique, and she understood the phrase “broom thighs” when she’d look at herself in the mirror. However, if the sport had done wonders for her, it had done miracles for her boyfriend.

Not only did Garreth also develop some of the sturdiest broom thighs MC had seen, but that effect just carried to every other muscle in his body too. Regular practices paired with the growth spurts he had hit the last two years, it constantly felt like he just towered over her. His strength was also a bonus that they enjoyed exploring on the nights they’d spend in the Room of Requirement, tangled in sheets from a conjured bed.

He could see her eyes going unfocused and one corner of his mouth turned up. He sucked her clit with extra force as he pushed two fingers into her. His smirk only grew as it pulled a loud moan from her. His fingers didn’t stop pumping into her as he pulled back.

“There you are, pretty girl. You were going somewhere on me.”

If she wasn’t already flushed from the pleasure coursing through every inch of her body, him calling her out would’ve caused color to flood her cheeks.

“I uh. I wa-as looking at my thigh on your shoulder.”

The Gryffindor chuckled, turning his head to plant a kiss on the thigh she was talking about. He knew MC well enough to be able to conclude what was running through her head.

“Yeah? This pretty thigh? Comparing size are you? So much smaller than me, aren’t you, pretty girl. Can’t toss you around in here but I can do this.”

She gasped as his free hand moved, lifting her other leg and hooking it over his shoulder so she was now sitting on his shoulders against the wall with his face buried in her cunt. Without another word, his mouth found its way back to her clit while he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her aching walls. His free hand settled on her hip, as if he was trying to ensure she didn’t fall.

MC felt her orgasm building, and her grip on her boyfriend’s hair grew impossibly tighter as she tried to push him into her more. Her walls fluttered around his fingers and his pace seemed to pick up, his fingers curling up in search of the spot he knew would make her scream.

“Gare–” She tried to warn him but she was cut off by a loud moan as his fingers found what they were searching for.

“I know, pretty girl. I can feel it. Cum for me. Be a good girl and let me taste you.”

Her moans only grew louder as he pushed her towards her orgasm, and her back arched off the wall as it hit with a cry of his name. Garreth only slowed for a moment, letting MC start to come down from what would be her first orgasm of the day before he ramped back up. He added a third finger and his mouth was working her clit like he had been starved his entire life.

“Ah~! Garreth!” She was trying to push his head away one second and pulling him closer the next. “‘S too much! Please!”

He chuckled against her, his eyes looking up at her as if he was asking her if it was really too much. Unfortunately - or fortunately, really - Garreth knew her body practically as well as MC did. He knew she could keep going after he pulled one from her, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t ready to drown in her and suffocate between her thighs. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t trying either. After pulling two more orgasms from MC with his tongue and fingers, he slowly lowered her legs back to the ground. The lower half of his face glistened with the arousal he had drawn from her body, and in moments, his aptly named cheerleader outfit was on the ground and he was as bare as she was.

MC’s eyes immediately dropped, taking in the sight that was his hardened cock. She had seen him naked several times at this point, but she always stared at him naked. He somehow looked even bigger without clothes, his muscles on display and accentuating just how pretty his cock was. She knew from experience that it was the perfect size, and that the happy trail she had admired when he was in the stands led to a trimmed patch of copper curls she loved to bury her nose in when she took him down her throat.

There was no warning before he hoisted her up, unceremoniously kicking their clothes towards the edge of the pool sized bath before he submerged the both of them in the warm water. His lips found hers, and she could taste herself when his tongue found its way into her mouth. Recognizing the taste caused her to moan, her hips moving and grinding against his cock, the head catching her clit perfectly.

“So needy, aren’t you, pretty girl? Didn’t I just give you three orgasms and you still need more? What happened to it being too much?”

“Garreth, please.” She whined, pouting her kiss swollen lips at him.

“You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that, baby. Plus, I’m supposed to be rewarding my champion.”

He moved them through the water, turning MC to face away from him. Instead she faced the pile of their clothes at the edge of the tub. She looked back at Garreth with her eyebrows furrowed and he met her gaze with a grin.

“When you eventually hit the point where you can’t hold yourself up anymore, you can rest your head on our clothes.”

She held the edge of the tub, and soon felt her hips get lifted to the point even her tiptoes weren’t touching the bottom. She felt the head of Garreth’s cock drag up and down her slit a couple times before he pushed into her.

“Fuck, MC. Fuckin’ made to take me, weren’t you?”

She moaned at the feeling of her walls stretching to accommodate him, and she only grew louder when he started moving. The water around them splashed up and over the lip of the tub, but both were too lost in each other to truly care. Their moans echoed off the tiles around them, filling the room with the sound of their voices.

One of Garreth’s hands moved down, his fingers rubbing tight circles around MC’s clit. He could feel her walls fluttering around his cock, signaling how close she was.

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum on my cock. You know I want it, give it to me.” He growled in her ear, snapping his hips harder.

She gave him what he wanted moments later, when he pinched the bundle of nerves. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and as Garreth had predicted, she fell forward and rested her arms on the edge.

“That’s it. Good girl. My good girl.”

Feeling his own orgasm swiftly approaching, he didn’t alter his pace. His fingers resumed their harsh assault, trying to push her into a fifth orgasm by the time he came.

“Just one more, MC. Wanna feel you milk me when I fill this pretty little cunt. I know you can do it. Unless you want me to pull out…”

She gasped at his threat, frantically shaking her head. “No, please no. Cum in me. Please cum in me.”

Garreth grinned, working the both of them towards a mutual orgasm. Feeling her walls squeezing his cock like a vice and hearing her screaming his name pulled his own orgasm from him. He buried her face in her neck, biting down gently as he groaned. MC whimpered, feeling his cock throbbing with every spurt of cum he filled her with.

Slightly regaining his own senses, Garreth released her neck, gently kissing the mark he had left behind. As he looked at it, he chuckled softly. MC would be able to cast a glamor charm to hide it, but he knew she’d be frustrated he had left something so visible to begin with. He hadn’t meant to, and he was usually very good at keeping any marks to where the two of them would be the only witnesses, but it had been too much this time.

“Merlin, you’re beautiful.” He spoke softly, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades as he carefully pulled out of her beneath the water.

They both tried to catch their breath before cleaning themselves up, and MC was so spent she was just allowing herself to float amongst the bubbles. Garreth gently pulled her towards the stairs so he could sit and wash her hair for her. Tilting her head back with her chin, to get her hair completely soaked one more time, he settled in. He ensured she was comfortable on his lap before filling one of his palms with shampoo before his nails were scratching against her scalp.

MC practically purred in his lap, even if having to keep her own head upright felt like a task at the moment. She had always loved Garreth playing with her hair, and it was sweet that he’d wash it for her after effectively turning all of her bones to jello.

“I’m so proud of you, MC. Did so fucking brilliant in that game.” He dipped and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Did so fucking perfect for me too. Always take what I give you so well. Make me feel so good. Make me feel so loved. I love you, pretty girl.”

A tired hum left her lips, which were spreading into a giddy smile. “I love you too, Garreth.”

After soaking and debating whether or not MC really needed to make an appearance at the celebration they were going to be extremely fashionably late to (she did), the Gryffindor was walking around and collecting their clothes. Deciding to take the lazy way, since most of them were already wet, he dunked them into the soapy water and dried them with a charm. He turned his head to say something, and was stopped by the look MC was giving him.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That is how you’re deciding our clothes are clean? Need I remind you what’s fucking floating around in this water?”

He raised an eyebrow at her before casting scourgify and raising an eyebrow. “Is that better, your highness? It’s not my fault you needed to jump my bones so badly that neither of us had a chance to figure out other clothes.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes, but she was trying to hide a smile. “Whatever.”

He folded their clothes so they’d sit neatly on one of the shelves before he went to retrieve MC from the still warm water. Her legs were still a little weak, but the more she walked, the easier it was. By the time the two were dried and fully clothed again, she had started walking like normal.

“Hmm. I’ll have to do better tonight if you’re already walking fine. Come on, pretty girl. I’m ready to share you with people for a while.”

She laughed softly, taking his hand as the two snuck back out of the prefect bathroom and down to the party they were missing on the shore of the Black Lake.

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pluvpluvpluv · 7 months ago