#weasley pov

[weasleys-bae]

Y/N: Why can't any of you ever clean up after yourselves?

Fred: I have a person who does that for me.

Y/N: Yeah, ME.

Fred: I'm glad you agree.

[handledwithgloves]

‘an ode to ron weasley’ by hermione jean granger 🩷

[thatsoanjie]

When the wind settles

Sebastian Sallow x reader

Summary : After Ranrok was ended, a Goblin rebellion happened. This is 5 months after the rebellion, and everyone thought you were gone for good. Sebastian revisits Feldcroft in an attempt to find traces of you again, not knowing what's to come.

Word count : 1.5k

Notes : This one was a little heavier to write! Just had to get this one out of my mind.

TW : Mentions of su!c!dal ideation... read at your own discretion.

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The ruins of Feldcroft lay still, a silent testament to the war that had ravaged the land. The village, once vibrant with life, was now a graveyard of memories, its cottages reduced to charred skeletons, its streets choked with debris. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and ashes, a grim reminder of all that had been lost. Snow had begun to fall again, soft and steady, as if the sky itself was mourning.

Sebastian Sallow stood in the center of what had once been his home, his heart as cold and lifeless as the stones scattered around him. It had been five months since the final battle of the Goblin Rebellion, five months since he had lost almost everything that mattered. Ominis and Anne were safe, and for that, he was grateful, but the knowledge did nothing to fill the void inside him.

Because you were gone.

The thought was a knife in his chest, a pain that had become as familiar as his own heartbeat. You had been his anchor, his hope, his everything. And now you were nothing more than a memory—a ghost that haunted his every waking moment. They had told him you were dead, that you had been lost in the chaos of the battle, your body never found. He had refused to believe it at first, had scoured the wreckage for any sign of you, but as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the terrible truth had settled in.

You were gone. And there was nothing he could do to change that.

The guilt was a constant companion, a weight he could never shake. You had been the best of them, the light that had kept him going through the darkest times. And now that light was extinguished, leaving him to stumble through the shadows alone.

He had come back to Feldcroft because there was nowhere else to go. The world outside was trying to rebuild, to move on, but Sebastian was stuck in the past, trapped in a moment that he couldn’t escape. The ruins of Feldcroft were all that was left of his old life, a desolate reflection of the emptiness he carried inside him. 

He wandered through the village, his steps slow and heavy, his mind lost in the memories of what had once been. He could still see it, as if the echoes of the past were imprinted on the air—the laughter of children playing in the streets, the warm glow of lanterns in the windows, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the cottages. But those memories were like ghosts, insubstantial and fleeting, impossible to hold on to.

Just like you.

Sebastian’s breath hitched as he reached the edge of the village, where the land sloped down toward the river. This had been your favorite spot, the place where you had always come to find peace, to escape from the burdens of the world. He could almost see you there, standing by the water, your hair catching the light as you turned to smile at him.

But it was just a memory. Just another ghost.

He closed his eyes, the ache in his chest unbearable. He didn’t know how to keep going without you, didn’t want to keep going. The world was a darker place without you in it, and he was so tired of stumbling through the shadows, of trying to find his way in a world that no longer made sense.

But then, through the silence, he heard it—a sound so soft, so faint, that at first, he thought it was just the wind. But it came again, more distinct this time, a footstep crunching in the snow behind him.

His heart stopped, his breath catching in his throat. He turned slowly, afraid to look, afraid to hope. And then he saw you.

You were standing just a few feet away, your figure half-hidden by the falling snow, your eyes wide with shock and something else—something that mirrored the grief and yearning that had been eating away at him for so long.

For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, to reconcile the image of you standing before him with the brutal reality he had been living in. It couldn’t be real. You were gone. You were a ghost.

“Sebastian,” you whispered, your voice trembling as if you, too, were afraid that this was just a dream, that you might wake up at any moment and find yourself alone again.

He shook his head, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re not real,” he said, his voice breaking as he took a step back, his hands trembling at his sides. “You can’t be real.”

“Sebastian, it’s me,” you insisted, your voice thick with emotion as you took a step toward him, your hand reaching out as if to reassure him, to prove that you were real, that you were here.

He flinched, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at you, his mind screaming that this couldn’t be happening, that you were just a figment of his imagination, conjured by his grief and longing. “You’re dead,” he whispered, his voice raw with the pain that had been festering inside him for months. “They told me you were dead.”

“I almost was,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a breath. “I was hurt, Sebastian—badly. But I survived. I made it to one of the camps, and they healed me. After that, I helped wherever I could—healing, rebuilding, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. But my work there was done, I had nothing keeping me there. I had to find you.”

He stared at you, his heart breaking all over again at the sight of the tears in your eyes, the grief and love that shone in them. “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. “I thought you were gone, and I didn’t know how to keep going without you.”

You took another step closer, your hand brushing against his arm, warm and solid and so achingly real. “I’m here now,” you whispered, your voice filled with a quiet, unshakable determination. “We’re both here, Sebastian. We survived.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with the tears he had been holding back for so long. “It should’ve been me,” he choked out, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to suffer like that. I should’ve been the one to die, not you.”

“No,” you said firmly, your voice laced with a fierce, desperate kind of love. “Don’t you ever say that, Sebastian. We both fought, we both survived. And now we’re here. Alive.”

He hesitated, his heart warring with his mind, his grief and guilt battling against the overwhelming relief of having you in his arms again. “I thought I’d lost you,” he repeated, his voice breaking as he finally let himself believe what he was seeing, let himself believe that you were really here, that this wasn’t just a cruel trick of his imagination.

You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek, your touch grounding him, anchoring him in the reality of the moment. “I’m right here,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the depth of your emotions. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you, Sebastian. Not now. Not ever.”

He couldn’t hold back any longer. With a broken sob, he pulled you into his arms, holding you as tightly as he could, as if he could somehow make up for all the lost time, for all the moments he had thought he would never have with you again. You clung to him just as fiercely, your tears soaking into his shirt as you buried your face in his chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to steady yourself.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words spilling out of him in a rush, as if he had been holding them back for too long. “I love you. I should have told you before, but I was too scared, too afraid of what might happen. But I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. “I always have, Sebastian. And I’m not going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.”

He kissed you then, slow and deep, pouring all of his love, all of his grief, all of his yearning into that one kiss. It was a kiss filled with the promise of tomorrow, with the hope of a future that he had thought was lost. And as he held you in his arms, surrounded by the ruins of Feldcroft, the wind swirling around you like a shroud, he knew that he had found you again.

And that was enough.

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Requests are open.

[starlingflight]

Harry is Ron’s best mate. They’re inseparable. They’re practically brothers. So if Harry was seeing someone, Ron would definitely know about it.

Or so he thinks, until a game of truth or dare and a definitely-not-platonic text message suggest otherwise…

A/N thank you to @ginnyw-potter for her graphic design skills!

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 31

WARNINGS: light kissing

"Merlin's beard..." Fred whispers in disbelief.

"We've done it!" you exclaim, squealing cheerily and clapping your hands together.

"No," George says. "You've done it!" He stands up, taking your hand and leading you into an energetic dance. You both laugh as he spins you around.

"I hardly did anything," you humbly point out. "The Room gave me the last ingredient."

Before you can think about it, George passes you to Fred, who rolls his eyes and says, "Whatever! You found all of the other pieces." He ends the dance with a dip. As he cradles you in his arms, Fred leans down so his face is only inches away from yours. You can't help but giggle as he proceeds to plant multiple kisses all over your face. "Thank you, y/n," Fred says sincerely, then kisses you once more on the lips.

"Aww," you swoon and blush as Fred lifts you upright. "It was nothing really..."

"Let's collect the remaining nougat!" George says, rubbing his hands together excitedly before placing his bag on the table by the cauldron. "We can start selling tomorrow!"

Fred goes to help his twin carefully cut the purple candy into small rectangles. "Our Skiving Snackboxes are now complete!"

At hearing these words, a feeling of dread wells up inside you. The first time you'd felt this particular dread, you'd told yourself to simply stop worrying. But now that the moment had come in which the Weasley twins would no longer have use for your academic skills, you begin to panic.

"No... no, no, no, no..." you whisper. You turn away so that Fred and George don't see the tears in your eyes. But, before you can pull yourself together, the twins notice that something is wrong. The shuffling sounds at the table behind you stop.

"Y/n?" Fred asks.

"Are you alright?" George finishes.

"I-I'm fine," you reply, though your shaky voice betrays you.

You cover your face in shame as you hear the twins' footsteps coming toward you.

"Hey, hey," Fred's voice says softly, concerned. You feel his fingers try to coax your hands away from your face, but you keep your palms tight over your leaking eyes, moving away and accidentally bumping into George.

George steadies you with a gentle hug. "What's the matter?" he asks.

You choke. "It's stupid..."

"Your feelings aren't stupid," Fred consoles. His fingers pry at yours once again, and this time you let him pull your hands away from your face. You look up to meet his eyes as he stands behind George, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder. He gives you an empathetic, crooked smile. The sight of it overwhelms you, bringing more tears to your eyes, and you hide your face against George's chest.

"Talk to us," George encourages. He rubs your back soothingly.

You take in a deep breath. "I... I got t-the idea into m-my head a while back... that when I was finished h-helping you with project nosebleed..." you sniff. "You wouldn't... w-want me around anymore..."

For a moment that felt like a lifetime, neither of the twins speak. Then you feel George's hold loosen around you, and you look up at his face in confusion.

"You're right," George says, his brow furrowing and his mouth in a frown. "That is stupid."

"George!" Fred hisses at him, but you just chuckle gingerly.

"I know, I know..."

George takes a step back as Fred quickly comes forward to hold your hands. He kisses the top of each. You won't look him in the eyes, so he crouches down to where he can see yours.

"Y/n," Fred sighs, shaking his head and smiling. "Have our previous affections meant nothing to you?"

You start to defend yourself. "W-well, there are some people in this world—"

You hadn't noticed him come up behind you, so you gasp in surprise when George's arms snake around your waist. He kisses the top of your head and continues, going down your temple and to your ear. He nibbles at it, causing you to giggle and squirm, but he holds you in place.

"We have no intention of ever leaving you," George whispers into your ear, and you love the sound of his voice, for something about it makes you sure he's telling the truth.

"In fact," Fred begins, pausing to glance at George attentively. You sense a moment of tension, and then George nods. Fred grins ecstatically and goes on. "We were hoping you would leave with us."

TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan

[shrewfern]

[pockets-full-of-roses]

Small Touches of Affection

brief summary: ron weasley really likes when your hands touch his, such a warm feeling to remember

[i honestly don’t romanticize this boy, but i wanted to have something for him here! not my best work]

divider credits here !!

Ron Weasley was pretty overlooked by everyone. His family was too large for him to make his mark. His own friends overlooked his clever moments. Hell, his ex-girlfriend overlooked him too! All she wanted was a boyfriend. Not him.

You were his escape. You met him through your book buddy, Hermione. When you were in dire need of studying while Hermione was busy, Ron came to your aid.

He let you teach him everything and anything, from Care of Magical Creatures to Astronomy. It helped you out greatly. Your marks were higher than ever. So high your parents actually wrote you a letter to congratulate you. (I wish.)

It helped Ron out too. He liked the way you explained things, even if they didn’t make sense to others. He just liked the fact that you cared enough to do that for him.

Soon after exam season was over, the two of you would hang out constantly.

That made him begin to like you. Because he liked you, he wanted to feel your skin against his. He wanted to hold you close and never let you go.

It all started with a slight touch of the hand. While you were talking to him about your newest interest, he was building up the courage to graze his hand against yours while both of you were walking.

Ron’s breathing got heavier and heavier, his heart pounding out of his chest. You saw these, but decided it was nothing. He brushed his hand against yours.

He was scared of what you might’ve done or said. But all you did was look down, smile, and gently brush your hand back.

Ron realized he loved you a lot more than he thought at that point. He smiled back to you, motioning for you to continue.

He tried his luck again in the Great Hall, a much riskier place to touch you. You were seated at your designated table, eating peacefully with a couple selected people.

Ron took in a sharp breath, walking over to you.

“Hey..” he started in a quiet tone.

“Hey!” you replied, smiling your best smile at him.

His heart fluttered in his chest while his confidence grew and grew.

“Can I sit with you? Hermione and Harry are out doing Merlin knows what.”

You had laughed with a nod, patting the seat beside you. He had smiled proudly. Phase one, done.

“So what’s up?” Ron asked, waiting for your daily rant. He loved hearing you talk. He loved your voice.

While you started your rant, he moved his hand right beside yours. Slowly, he inched closer and closer. Then, without warning, he put his hand on top of yours.

Your words came to a complete stop. He looked anxious and was worried he took a step too far.

Before he could pull away, your fingers interlocked with his.

“I quite like this,” you muttered quietly.

“Me too,” Ron smiled with his reply.

It became a daily thing for you two to hold each other while you spoke.

Ron would hold your hands, while you, with a rather flushed face, would talk about all sorts of things. He’d respond, adding his own rant to you.

You loved each others’ voices. And that was enough.

all writing by pockets full of roses. please do not repost without permission. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[snail-pot]

So. I don't know bout you guys, but I get excited when I reach these "bookmark milestones" (ex. I've bookmarked 200 fics, I've bookmarked 300 fics, etc etc). ANYWAY, I was thinking, to celebrate my 400th bookmark, why not make a list of Harry Potter fics I've bookmarked throughout my time on Ao3?

Gen: [AKA General Relationships, Little to No Romance]

"riding up the wrong path" by ashen_key [Lily Luna Potter, Character Study, Oneshot]

When Lily is eighteen, she cuts her hair and joins the army. The British Army. The British Muggle Army. Despite what the gossip papers say, she leaves her wand at home. She's not a complete idiot. – – Oh, right. Maybe take a few steps back.

"The Statute of Secrecy" by Shairanna [Muggle POV, Muggles, Crack Treated Seriously, Oneshot]

They were, of course, just Muggles, and as such had no idea that magic was real, and that wizards and witches lived hidden among them. Or so the witches and wizards thought.

"The Time That Wood Didn't Play" by HPfanatic12 [Oliver Wood, Percy Weasley, Humor, Oneshot]

Due to an injury, Oliver has to stay off the field for a bit and Lee Jordan offers him the opportunity to be the quidditch commentator. Professor McGonagall allows it Only to discover that Wood is much worse than Jordan ever was

"In Which Lucy Despises Sundays" by HPfanatic12 [Lucy Weasley, Percy Weasley, Next Gen, Family Issues]

Lucy didn't like Sundays all that much And it all has to do with how people treat her dad

"Home Alone: The Battle of Hogwarts" by Kosaji [Crossover, Kevin McCallister, Crack Treated Seriously, Multi-chapter, Completed]

Based off this prompt from writing-prompt.tumblr.com: Harry, Hermione, and Ron are killed interrupted early in their search for Horcruxes. Voldemort orders a full invasion of Hogwarts to find the remaining ones. In a panic, Hogwarts is evacuated. One student slept through the evacuation order: 4th year American transfer student Kevin McCallister.

"'Hope' is a Thing With Feathers" by PeachyKeener [Percy Weasley, Weasley Family, Family Issues, No Bashing, Oneshot]

A coward in the eyes of his family he may be but if he had the chance to save even one life he would take it. What Percy Weasley did during the war, in brief moments, and the reconciliation of his family.

"Ron Weasley, Dad of the Gryffindor Tower" by likes_koolaid [Ron Weasley, Gryffindor Boys, Fatherly Advice, Oneshot]

5 times Ron acted like a dad. Aka 5 times the boys in the dorm (minus Ron) didn't have fathers

"Consanguinity" by StygiasCanes [Percy Weasley, Weasley Family, Angst, Content Warning: Sexual Assault, Multi-chapter, Ongoing]

The Second Wizarding War ends, but Percy is nowhere to be found. Six months later, a traumatized Percy is rescued from a Death Eater hideout. How do the Weasleys put their family back together when Percy never had the chance to redeem himself at the final battle, and will they be able to help Percy recover?

"You're Not Supposed to be Here?" by pretty_scary_vampire [Muggle Shenanigans, Crack Treated Seriously]

Muggles can't see Hogwarts in all its glory. Instead, they see smoking, crumbling ruins that they avoid at all costs in fear of being crushed to death. What happens when a young woman decides that she's going to explore Hogwarts? Chaos, an annoyed Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall being ignored, and never ending giggling, that's what.

Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood: [Romance]

"Oliver's Obsession" by orphan_account [Teen]

The Gryffindor Quidditch team is fed up with Oliver constantly pestering them. They decide to do something about it.

"Still think he's the weakest" by Hhhhhheeeeeelloo1 [Not Rated]

Based on that b99 scene where Jake jumps into Terry’s arms when he was holding coffee. You know the one. But with Percy and Oliver.

"Strip poker (and other dangers" by SquaresAreNotCircles [Teen]

“Strip poker?” Oliver offered with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, just as the compartment door slid open. “Er,” Percy said. Or: Oliver and his best friend are bored, Percy has incredible timing and everybody keeps their clothes on.

"The Hottest Weasley" by orphan_account [Teen]

A notice appears in the Gryffindor common room, asking a very important question: Who Is The Hottest Weasley?

"Preparing" by orphan_account [Teen]

The Gryffindor quidditch team prepare their captain for one of the most important events of his life.

"It's the truth" by SquaresAreNotCircles [Teen]

Fred and George refuse to believe Percy has a girlfriend. Oliver seems to know more. It's all very mysterious, until it isn't.

"good old-fashioned loverboy" by aeoneskova [Teen]

Due to a slight mix-up in calculations, Percy Weasley ends up sharing his dorm with only one other person. Unfortunately, that person just so happens to be the complete opposite of Percy himself. In order to avoid the inevitability of strangling Oliver Wood by seventh year, Percy moves their beds to opposite sides of the dorm. However, over their years at school, circumstances gradually bring them closer together. or; Percy Weasley being irritated for 7 years straight. Ironically, it’s very gay.

"In Which Fred and George Weasley Go Through the 5 Stages of Grief Because their Brother is Dating Their Quidditch Captain" by apollospec [Teen]

[NO SUMMARY AVAILABLE]

"At least he has great abs" by Irisen [Teen]

There's nothing quite like waking up to your mother texting you a picture of your soulmate's abs.

"Burn Across the Sky" by MoonytheMarauder1 (beforethemoon) [Teen]

Suddenly, Oliver stopped speaking. His brown eyes had locked onto something on the other end of the Quidditch Pitch, and a grin overtook his features—completely unlike the serious scowl that had been sitting there before. Wide-eyed with shock, the Gryffindor Quidditch team turned as one to find the source of Oliver's distraction. The only thing that could have caused it, however, was the person walking briskly past the stands, a stack of books in his arms and a worn Gryffindor scarf wrapped snugly around his neck: Percy Weasley. Harry turned around just in time to watch Fred, George, and Ron's jaws drop as one. The three Weasleys glanced from their captain to their brother, then back again. Fred was the first to speak. "You're shitting me," he breathed. o.o.o Or, When Oliver Wood stops talking about Quidditch to stare at Percy Weasley, Ron, Fred, and George know something is up.

"The Exploding Charm" by perilouspursuits [Teen]

It's funny the things that come back to hurt and help you. In the end Percy chooses a side and it doesn't take long for him to know he's chosen right.

Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas: [ROMANCE]

"It's Tough to Have a Crush" by obliviateme [Teen]

Dean Thomas has had a crush on Seamus Finnigan since second year. Four years later, Seamus kisses him on the way back from a Hogsmeade trip. A week after that, they still haven't spoken about it. Dean struggles to bring up his feelings, and he's not sure if Seamus will let him down about this.

"The Perfect Vows" by KillianJones32 [Gen]

“You’re okay with writing our own vows right?” Dean had asked him over three months ago. Dean had looked at him with those big brown eyes and wide grin and really how was Seamus supposed to say no? But now the time had actually come to writing those vows and Seamus was struggling, quite a bit actually.

"Painting Seamus" by KillianJones32 [Teen]

Dean is an artist who hasn’t submitted anything for his portfolio in weeks and he ends up doing a painting of his roommate Seamus who he's had a crush on for over a year.

"Breakfast in Company" by Anemone_nemerosa [Teen]

Prompt: I run a bed & breakfast and you showed up for your reservation alone. Do you understand what the purpose of a b&b is? It's a bright and sunny day mid-October when Dean meets the most peculiar person to ever enter his life.

"Doodles" by fandomgalore [Gen]

Dean likes to doodle to keep his hands occupied. Over the years, his doodling subject range narrows down to one.

"(Star)Gazing at You" by Three Guesses (Thr3eGuess3s) [Gen]

It's Christmas and all Seamus wants to do is get Dean alone under the mistletoe, but Hogwarts and it's mysteries may just get in the way of that. (Yes, btw, I am indeed aware that I'm posting a Christmas fic in July don't @ me)

"A Slight Pyromaniac's Guide to Love and Potions Class" by Anonymous [Gen]

Seamus Finnigan is Potions partners with Dean Thomas. They're making Amortentia. What an inconvenient time to be in love with your best friend. // Inspired by a tiktok by @mariuslee! It's where I got the dialogue for the actual Amortentia scene from, and it inspired me to write this whole fic in the first place!

"Write on Me" by orphan_account [Gen]

At the age of 17 everyone gets a tattoo of their soulmates name in their hand writing. Or the one where Dean won't tell Seamus who his soulmate is until Seamus's birthday.

"ní bhíonn toit gan tine" by fallthroughtimelikeme [Explicit]

Dean is staying over in Séamus's house for part of the summer holidays. Stormy nights, cuddling in bed, awkwardness, and sex ensues.

"Lost Bed, Found Love" by NearlyHeadlessNicci [Explicit]

A Prank War amongst the Gryffindor Eighth Year Boys gets slightly out of hand. Dean ends up suffering some undeserved consequences, but does he really suffer?

"Hiding Scrawl, Licking Freckles, and Other Average Wizard Things" by tamerofdarkstars [Gen]

Someone out there is obsessed with his freckles, and damn it, Seamus Finnigan wants to know who. - Uselessly fluffy Soulmate AU where the thoughts of your soulmate inscribe themselves on your skin in an shifting magic tattoo

"The Truth in Black and White" by brokenbottleaurora [Teen]

Seamus and Dean are already best mates- but could they be soulmates? After the first 6th year potions class, the answer is clear. Pure Deamus fluff. Not canon compliant (shifted timeline).

"watch the stars burst into light" by anonymous_koala [Gen]

After Dean's 18th birthday, he's finally able to communicate with his soulmate. Who are they? Will he ever get to meet them? A soulmates can see everything written on the other's skin AU.

Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood: [ROMANCE]

"darling, the mess is half the fun" by slyther_ing [Teen]

In retrospect, the twins probably could've gotten their answer by just asking Oliver whether he and Flint were a thing - but when have they done anything the easy way? (In which the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams attempt to get their captains together, and Marcus' reputation suffers.)

"Your feet above the ground" by Phantomato [Explicit]

And if he’d attended potions, and couldn’t remember anything, and was now groggy and prone in front of multiple professors in the Hogwarts infirmary, that could only mean one thing: potions accident.

"Come a little closer" by MInnie0503 [Teen]

Marcus Flint gets engaged. Oliver Wood starts a fight. They both end up with ten shared detentions and it all goes tits up from there. Or: How many detentions does it take for two boys to admit they like each other?

"The Inked Snitch" by your_token_trophy_wife [Teen]

While Oliver’s quidditch days may be over, his quidditch supply shop is near perfection. Perhaps he’s a little lonely and a tad sheltered too, but Oliver would much rather keep to himself than have his heart broken. That’s not too much to ask for is it? Though when a magical tattoo shop opens up next door, Oliver’s in for a lot of surprises, including bad flirting, third-wheeling and the return of an old rival. Alternatively: A shop!AU where both shopkeepers are hopeless at flirting, great at drawing conclusions and absolutely inept at talking about their feelings.

"Adversary" by RoemaencePartnaerr [Teen]

Oliver was pretty sure he had shaken hands with every other person in the school, yet he still hadn't met his soulmate.

"chalk this one up as a win" by tamerofdarkstars [Teen]

Oliver Wood wakes up in the Hospital Wing a week after his first Quidditch game ever with a head injury and his soulmate's thoughts wound around his left wrist. Frankly, he's more concerned about missing the Quidditch game.

"rolling with the punches" by sadie18 (orphan_account) [Gen]

no matter what- the era, the age, the universe, muggle or wizard- oliver wood was always there - alternatively, marcus has a long dream, he wakes up in a different reality every day, and he just can't get away from oliver wood note: the plot isn't apparent from the very beginning, so stick with it please! it clicks into place

"you're good at quidditch" by ramathorne [Not Rated; FANART]

A 4 page comic interpretation of a scene from chalk this one up as a win. slightly unfinished. still made with love.

"Does it smell like bleach to you?" by Surperb [Teen]

Oliver Wood overhears a private conversation while cleaning the broom shed.

"what my hands were made for" by hexiewrites [Teen]

There had been a small silver Quaffle inked into the skin on Oliver’s right hipbone since before he knew how to walk. His mother had gasped delightedly the day it had appeared, shimmering onto his skin as if by magic.

OTHER FICS: [The ones that don't really fit into a specific category, but I love and appreciate them regardless]

"Ottery St. Catchpole" by Erisah_Mae [Teen]

Tumblr Prompt from accio shitpost: "i wanna see a muggle who goes stealth among wizards purely by having a ridiculous aesthetic" A muggle moves to Ottery St Catchpole a few months after the Battle of Hogwarts, and there's a slight misunderstanding.

"A Touch of Mystery" by Edie_K [Teen]

At their weekly lunch, the Weasley brothers learn some surprising new information and the balance of power shifts. Canon compliant, set two years after DH.

"A Crown of Lilac Fingertips" by wickersnap [Teen, Harry Potter/Ron Weasley]

When they’d shaken hands on the train and Harry had pulled back with a bright, grass green imprint on his hand, he had gasped, excited, and asked Ron what it was. At thirteen years old green becomes lilac, and at fourteen lilac becomes red. At seventeen it's both, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

"The Sign" by Hang_In_There_Baby_Crookshanks [Gen, Justin Finch-Fletchley/Ernie Macmillan]

Justin Finch-Fletchley thinks he has zero chance of being asked out for Valentine's Day. Is he about to be pleasantly surprised? Or will the irritating muggle song that he seems to be the only one able to hear drive him crazy first?

"why not both" by varnes [Mature, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley/Viktor Krum]

“Small baby,” Krum diagnosed, sounding delighted by this. “World too big, yes? Wants back in small, warm place, yes?” Ron realized that he was holding his breath. He glanced over at Hermione, who was looking at Krum like she was definitely, absolutely going to leave Ron for him, and honestly, at this moment, Ron felt that was fair. Ron was going to leave himself for Krum. Ron was going to rob all the banks in the world to get Viktor Krum back his money as long as it meant he’d keep their beautiful, perfect, angelic monster of a screaming baby quiet. “I want to be in a small, warm place,” Hermione muttered, and then squeaked a little realizing she’d said it out loud. Rose giggled. “Shidole,” she whispered, looking pleased and interested, smacking at Krum’s chest. “Rose, don’t call our guests shitholes,” Hermione scolded, and then said, “Viktor, you can stay as long as you like.” - Or: The Ron/Hermione/Krum fic that absolutely nobody was hankering for in the year of our Lord 2020.

"can take the sting (if you heal my bruises)" by oliverwvvd [Teen, Cormac McLaggen/Ron Weasley, Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood]

Prompted by peachpety for Quidditch Fest 2021. I hope this fulfils what you hoped for to some degree! Cormac McLaggen and Oliver Wood hold the record for the two Keepers in the Quidditch league with the most injuries to date respectively. Oliver plays it risky and ends up in the hands of an exasperated Marcus Flint, ex-Montrose Magpies player turned Healer. Cormac, on the other hand, has a persistent crush on Ron that everyone knows about...except for Ron, who is oblivious, right up until the moment that he isn't. [Original prompt/request: Person A plays professional Quidditch and is prone to injury. All the more reason to see the team physician, his secret crush. Person B is the exasperated team physician at his wit's end with the only player for whom he pines. UST OUT THE WAZOO & happy endings, please.]

"Petunia Evans, a Retelling" by HouseElfMagic [Teen]

Petunia remembered magic. Being young and making things happen--strange things, impossible things--and then the pain when that man took it all away, locked it inside her. She doesn't get it back until Lily's started Hogwarts already and by then she's old enough to decide she wants to keep her own magic a secret. She didn't know that this would ultimately lead her on a quest to raise her nephew and defeat an evil megalomaniac calling himself Voldemort. But, well, here she is. She will do whatever it takes to keep her nephew safe. And hey, if she gets a pseudo father, rescues a convict, makes friends, becomes an almost permanent babysitter to two additional children, and writes books along the way, then that's a definite bonus.

"Like a Dream" by orphan_account [Teen, Viktor Krum/Ron Weasley]

Ron's life had been in a routine for so long. He did his job as an Auror even though he didn't love it, he lived alone but decided he was okay with it, and he ignored that his soulmate was a person who felt more like a fantasy than a reality.

"Loopholes" by orphan_account [Gen, Fred Weasley/Lee Jordan]

To prank his well despised DADA professor, Umbridge, after she put up a decree that prohibits boys from being too close to girls, George Weasley ingeniously finds a loophole and eventually gets his twin brother and his best friend to fake date. Which, however, wasn't going to last long in the first place, especially due to Lee's annoying crush on Fred.

"the art of bending rules" by orphan_account [Gen, Fred Weasley/Lee Jordan]

Umbridge thinks the only way to control the rebels at Hogwarts is to put up rules — and more rules, and then a few more rules after that. Unfortunately, what she doesn’t understand is that there is nothing most rebels are better at than bending the rules. It’s an art to perfect, as Fred says.

Happy reading! Don't be afraid to ask for recs and I'll do my best to answer them :))

[fizzyginfizz]

QUIDDITCH is for LOSERS - Chapter 17 - "New Plan"

New Chapter!

“You will be surprised and not surprised and delighted but also upset about the unexpected!” “Hormononees,” Ginny sighed.

The Beginning / Latest Chapter

A million shout-outs and thank yous to @honeydukesheroine for cheerleading, betareading and Ginny-nerding.

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

i remember. [g.w. x reader]

--

The day you walked into my store, I remember briefly restocking skiving snack boxes. I remember that twinkle in your eyes that I couldn't seem to look away from, ultimately leading me to falling off my ladder; painfully landing on my arse.

It was beautiful — you were (and still are) beautiful. I could sense that mischief in you the second you walked through that door. You had a passion for the art of trouble-making, though at the time you hadn't made your particular proclivity for it known.

Your soft hands feeling through the joke products, picking one up and scrutinising it to your heart's content knowing I had my watchful eyes over you, the skiving snack boxes long forgotten. It didn't take long for me to feel inclined to you— to strike some form of conversation.

Subsequently enough, I did. The way the words seem to seamlessly roll off my tongue now that your focus was all on me. Out of decorum for customers, I bit back the snark remarks I had, though later on we'd be dancing through fields at night cussing like sailors under the influence of ecstasy, and greeted you like how I did to every other patron. With a painfully polite smile, and painfully polite words. My charm worked on you later on, of course.

I remembered you again, years prior, walking through the halls with your pack. You always did travel in packs— in the center, untouchable, you were a higher being. I recall how your hair flowed like a stream of water, and how your robes tailed behind you like a wedding gown, and of course, later on again, I'd have the pleasure of seeing you stride towards me decked in all-white with your face covered by meticulously-chosen silk.

At that time, I thought to myself, "Merlin, just give me her and I'm all set." And thank Merlin for hearing my pleas, as I lift up the veil slowly. First, your cherry-red lips, the shade I had always adored on you. Then, your beautifully crafted nose I had to thank your mother for sculpting with so much love and grace. Lastly, with much anticipation, the center of the universe; your eyes.

I always cheesily joked about getting lost in them, and ironically enough, I did.

I remember on our wedding day, after lifting up your veil, I felt a snitch catch in my throat with its wings still fluttering. In retrospect, it was my stomach doing millions of Wronski Feints. How could it not when your eyes looked back at me? I felt like a nervous teenager professing his love— but we were seconds away from linking ties and changing your last name to 'Weasley'.

I remember how Fred wolf-whistled in the crowd, but he wasn't there. That delusion rudely shocked me back to the present.

You said, "I do."

I had missed a huge chunk of what the pastor said, but soon the crowd was cheering and you had your arms around my neck. Then we kissed.

Then it dawned on me— that untouchable girl in the hallway was now a Weasley.

--

[weasleys-bae]

Y/N: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons?

Fred&George: Fake?

[rewritingcanon]

someone needs to make a fanfic where instead of standing to the side and sulking albus just decides to go full on in with his efforts for scorpius.

Homie would be throwing pianos on people fr

WAIT WAIT i need to say something and idk how it’ll be received amongst the masses but I NEED TO SAY IT

albus pov fanfics >> scorp pov fanfics

whyyyy do you ask? because of the 👏gold👏tier👏PINING👏 i want to see that boy sufferrrrr in his feelings. i want this guy to be screaming crying ripping his hair out. put this boy in the trenches and i will gobble that shit up. and i seriously genuinely dont want it to be scorpius because i honestly think scorpius is too swaggy to be as fucking crazy as albus would be LET ME TELL YOU.

albus with his crippling ego stopping him from actively pursuing scorpius more but the fucking second resident-hogwarts-icon polly chapman and her gang of gossips and side bitches start noticing scorpius albus stops fucking around fr. the fucking notebooks are coming out. he’s drawing up plans and shit (they’re all pretty bad because all of albus’ braincells literally come from scorp and rose who he can’t use). he’s getting together an elite squad (his crusty siblings). he’s doing the fucking RESEARCH (reading jane austen and trying to understand how to seduce someone). he’s ringing up his mama and getting her to send tutorials to him on how to bat-bogey a motherfucker so when he sees those grade-A-menaces pulling up on scorpius it is ON SIGHT.

plus he’s a fucking fourteen year old like what kind of gay confidence-crippled fourteen year old in love with their bsf is not going to be delulu?

[thatsoanjie]

In the stillness of the night

Sebastian Sallow x reader

Summary : Haunted by a dream, Sebastian reaches out in the dead of night, hoping that your presence can quiet his restless mind.

Word count : 1 455

Notes : I know most of my fics are drabble length... I just want to get these ideas out of my head so I can go to sleep better at night 😂 also, glad you've been enjoying what I've been putting out!

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The night was still, the cool breeze slipping through your partially open window, carrying with it the whispers of the ancient walls of Hogwarts. You were cocooned in your bed, the blankets pulled up to your chin, the world outside nothing more than a distant murmur as you drifted through dreams.

But even in the most peaceful of nights, darkness has a way of finding cracks in the armor of sleep.

A gentle tapping echoed in the quiet of your room, persistent yet soft, pulling you from the comforting depths of slumber. It was a sound that belonged not to your dreams, but to the waking world. Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, the familiar shadows of your room coming into focus, illuminated only by the pale moonlight streaming through the window.

The tapping continued, more insistent now, drawing your gaze to the foot of your bed. There, perched elegantly on the bedpost, was Brescia—Sebastian’s dark brown barred owl. Her amber eyes gleamed in the low light, watching you with a quiet urgency that made your heart skip a beat.

Without hesitation, you sat up, your movements careful as you reached for the parchment tied to Brescia’s leg. Your fingers trembled slightly as you untied it, the rough texture of the parchment familiar yet charged with something new—something urgent.

As you unrolled the note, Sebastian’s handwriting jumped out at you, hurried and slightly smudged:

Meet me at the boathouse. Please. I need you.

The simple words sent a shiver down your spine, an unspoken desperation clinging to each letter. Without wasting another second, you threw on your cloak, the urgency of his message propelling you out of bed. You gave Brescia a gentle stroke, murmuring a quick thanks before slipping silently out of your room.

The castle was a labyrinth of shadows and moonlight, the corridors empty and still as you moved through them with a practiced grace. The air was thick with the weight of secrets, every creak of the ancient floorboards echoing louder than it should have in the silence. You knew the risks—being caught out of bed at this hour was no small matter, especially with Headmaster Black prowling the halls like a hawk. But your concern for Sebastian outweighed the danger.

You reached for your wand, whispering the incantation for the Disillusionment Charm. The magic rippled over your skin, cloaking you in near-invisibility, just as Sebastian had taught you. It was a spell he’d insisted you master, and now, as you moved through the castle undetected, you silently thanked him for his insistence.

The grand staircase loomed ahead, and you paused, listening carefully for any signs of movement. The silence was thick, almost oppressive, but you caught the faint sound of footsteps—heavy, deliberate. Your heart raced as you recognized the gait of Headmaster Black, his silhouette barely visible as he patrolled the corridors. You pressed yourself against the wall, holding your breath as he passed, oblivious to your presence.

Once the headmaster was out of sight, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and continued on your way, slipping past sleeping portraits and silent suits of armor. The journey was tense, your heart pounding in your chest, but the thought of Sebastian waiting for you kept you moving.

Finally, you reached the boathouse, the wooden structure standing solitary and quiet by the edge of the Black Lake. The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, the sound almost too loud in the stillness of the night. The moonlight streamed in, casting long, silvery shadows across the wooden floor.

Sebastian was there, standing at the edge of the dock, his back to you. He stood close to the water, his gaze fixed on the lake's surface, his posture tense. His hands hung loosely at his sides, his fingers flexing as if battling the weight of whatever haunted him. He didn’t turn as you approached, the night air heavy with the unspoken tension between you.

“Sebastian,” you called softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it carried across the stillness of the boathouse.

He didn’t turn immediately, but you saw the way his shoulders tensed further, as if bracing himself. When he finally looked over his shoulder, the expression on his face made your heart clench. There was something raw and unguarded in his eyes, something he was struggling to contain.

“You came,” he said, his voice low, the usual playful lilt missing from his tone. He tried to smile, but it was a pale imitation of his usual smirk.

“Of course I did,” you replied, stepping closer to him. “What happened? Why did you ask me to come here?”

He turned back to the lake, his grip on the railing tightening until his knuckles turned white. “It’s nothing,” he said, his tone too casual, too forced. “Just… couldn’t sleep. Thought some fresh air might help clear my head. Figured I might as well have some company.”

“Sebastian,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, “this isn’t like you. What’s really going on?”

He was silent for a long moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the lake against the dock. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, he turned to face you fully, his eyes locking onto yours.

“I had a nightmare,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “A nightmare about losing you. You were gone, and I couldn’t do anything to bring you back. It—it felt so real.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice, the vulnerability he was trying so hard to hide. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, your touch gentle but grounding. “It was just a dream, Sebastian,” you said softly. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at where your hand rested on his arm, his gaze softening as he finally allowed himself to lean into your touch. “I didn’t want to be alone,” he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not after that.”

“You don’t have to be,” you assured him, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. “Come with me.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, perhaps, or maybe just a reason to believe that you meant what you said. Whatever it was, he found it, because he nodded, a small, almost relieved smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Lead the way.”

You took his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you led him back through the castle. The journey was silent, your movements cautious as you navigated the dark corridors, the disillusionment charm still clinging to you both like a protective cloak. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable—if anything, it was comforting, a shared secret between the two of you.

When you reached the Room of Requirement, the door appeared as if it had been waiting for you, warm and inviting. You pushed it open, leading Sebastian inside without a word, letting the room shape itself to your needs.

The room was cozy, a safe haven bathed in soft, golden light. A large, plush bed was positioned by a bay window that overlooked the viaduct and the Black Lake, the moonlight spilling in to dance across the floor. The air was warm, the faint scent of cedar and vanilla filling the space, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Sebastian hesitated at the threshold, his eyes taking in the room with a quiet awe. He turned to you, his expression softer now, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. “This is perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, leading him to the bed and pulling back the covers. “Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s get some rest.”

He didn’t need any more prompting. Together, you slipped into the bed, the warmth of the blankets enveloping you both. The room was quiet, the only sound the gentle crackling of the fire in the hearth, the soft glow of the moonlight spilling across the floor.

Sebastian curled up beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, his arm draped across your waist as if anchoring himself to you. He was being especially touchy tonight, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin, as if afraid you might slip away if he let go. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, the gesture so tender it made your heart swell.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice a mere breath against your skin. “For being here. For… everything.”

You turned your head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead in return. “Always,” you murmured, your voice filled with the promise he needed to hear. “I’m always here for you.”

***

Cue "aaawww". Anyways, requests are open :P Idk if you've noticed my posting schedule, but I have one new fic coming out every Monday at 4pm Eastern time!

Thank you for reading, we shall meet again in my next endeavour.

[starlingflight]

Ginny Weasley loves cats. Ginny Weasley loves cute little pygmy puffs. Ginny Weasley loves owls. Ginny Weasley loves dogs, and chickens, and cows, and horses.

Ginny Weasley is an equal opportunity animal lover.

[joka13]

Hiya feel free to ignore this if you’re not doing requests but i was wandering if you could do a george weasley x reader where they’re in a secret relationship and maybe one of George’s siblings outs that the reader has a crush on George in front of them both then george kind of teases the reader for it afterwards ?

Thank you :)

Hello, I do take requests! And thank you for requesting; this was so fun to write! I hope you won't mind that I added just a few more background details to what you specified😁 Enjoy!❤️❤️❤️

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Dear Reader,

As you may or may not know, I post extensive, multiple part fanfiction stories. I must remind you or clarify that I do not consider any requests I write as parts of those stories. Thank you for reading❤️

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x y/n Malfoy

WARNINGS: passionate kissing

It had been a long while since you began your concealed, romantic relationship with George Weasley. It was a rather difficult situation to maintain, but it definitely had its advantages. You're a member of the Malfoy family and wouldn't be caught dead associating yourself with a Weasley, for if you were indeed caught associating yourself with a Weasley, it'd be the end of you. Your father, the infamous Lucius Malfoy, viewed every one of them as nothing but muggle-loving blood traitors. You once considered briefly the possibility of your father accepting George as your boyfriend because George was, still, technically a pureblood. But, in the end, you decided to play it safe, to stay quiet about the whole thing. Your father wasn't the only person you worried wouldn't take it well. You greatly admired your older brother, Draco, and feared you would lose his respect forever if he ever learned of your feelings for George. And so, when George Weasley expressed his similar feelings for you and you couldn't bring yourself to reject him, you promised to be George's girl as long as he did his best to keep it a secret.

George was entirely willing to pay the price. He'd been aching to have you for so long; there was nothing he wouldn't do for you. You enjoyed it immensely as well. Butterflies came to life in your stomach every time he took your hand and led you away to some new corner of the Hogwarts castle when no one else was watching. You'd kept secrets before, but this one was different. It was shared, special, personal, and intimate. But there are just some people you can't keep secrets from forever.

You and George played a silly game you called "Straight Face" while lounging on the couch in the Gryffindor common room (this would have been self-sabotage if it weren't for George "borrowing" Harry's invisibility cloak, under which you both sat; it was also late at night when everyone, including the two of you, should've been in bed, so there wasn't much risk of getting accidentally sat on). The goal of the game was to simply get the other person to smile and keep yourself from smiling when it was their turn to try and get you to smile. George almost won every time you played against him, though it didn't really matter to you. The end always resulted in at least one person smiling while the other won the game. It was, almost literally, a win-win situation.

It was your turn, so you pulled a funny facial expression. The corner of George's mouth twitched slightly, but he did not smile. For his turn, George performed for you a rather accurate voice impression of Professor Snape that easily broke you.

"Oh, bugger!" you laughed as George grinned smugly. "You're too good at this game!"

"Alright, alright, it's your turn. Show me what you've got," George chuckled.

George returned to his blank stare while you thought of something to do to make him smile. You then shook your head with a knowing smirk as an idea formed in your mind.

"You've left me no other choice," you sighed, looking up at him through your lashes. George raised a red eyebrow curiously, but otherwise didn't budge. You glanced down at his lips.

You, very slowly, leaned forward towards George as if you planned to kiss him. Then, just before your lips could touch his, you froze in place. When you observed no reaction from him, you looked up to find George staring coolly down at you.

"Come on. Where's that handsome smile of yours?" you encouraged quietly, giving him your own best smile. You slid your hands gradually up his arms, feeling his muscles flex in anticipation. Touching was actually against the rules of the game, but George wasn't complaining, so you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck.

"He's a little shy," George replied. His face might have been blank, but you could tell he was enjoying himself.

You chuckled. "Well, then what's it going to take to have him show?"

You pretended not to realize how fast your heart was beating when you moved your body ever nearer, still holding your face so very close to his. As you settled, George exhaled heavily before placing his hands around your waist. He didn't verbally reply to your question, but looked at you in a way that said, "You know what."

And so you kissed him. You kissed George and was taken to cloud nine when you felt his lips smile against yours. He chuckled, then began to kiss you back earnestly.

George's hands cradled your body, laying you down on the couch cushions behind. You giggled helplessly when he moved his face away from yours to nuzzle his nose affectionately against your neck.

"I love you, y/n," George breathed, and his words meant the world to you.

Suddenly, something sort of like a gasp sounded from the stairs to the Gryffindor girls' dormitories, causing your stomach to drop with dread. You couldn't see what was happening from your position, so you watched George's face as he slowly propped himself up higher above you to get a look at the intruder.

His eyes widened, and George glanced down at you. "It's Ginny," he mouthed silently, then looked back up. You and him both remained quiet and unmoving, hoping Ginny would eventually go away.

You heard some shuffling footsteps, and then Ginny spoke. "George? Fred? Who's there?" her voice sounded closer now, much too close for comfort. You gripped the fabric of George's sleeves absentmindedly in fearful suspense.

"Aha!" Ginny exclaimed, and you knew you'd been caught. "You're using Harry's invisibility cloak! And you've left your foot uncovered." You saw a small hand reach over the couch's arm rest, over your face and grasp a fistful of Harry's cloak. George's expression was more annoyed than fearful as Ginny yanked the cloak off of the two of you and gasped in alarm once more.

"Malfoy?!"

George moved off as you quickly sat up. "Er, hello, Ginny," you chuckled sheepishly.

Ginny looked back and forth between you and George in shock. You thought for sure she was going to faint or scream, but an ecstatic grin quickly filled her freckled face.

"My brother and y/n Malfoy!" Ginny squealed, clapping her hands together cheerfully.

George shushed her. "Pipe down!"

Ginny lowered her voice. "Sorry, sorry. Merlin's beard, I can hardly believe my eyes! Well, now I can." She giggled and waved the invisibility cloak about. "I was beginning to think you'd die alone, Georgie! How long has this been going on?" You and George looked at each other uncertainly, but before either of you could answer, Ginny continued to spout.

"I'm guessing it all began three months ago. That's about the time I started noticing Fred standing all by his lonesome. It must not have been much of a bother to him, though. He's had his fair share of slinking off with that Johnson girl. Am I right? It doesn't matter. I'm just so happy that you found someone... even if she is a Slytherin, let alone a Malfoy..."

"Ginny!" George scolded. You merely shrugged. You had expected a much worse reaction.

"I'm only joking," Ginny laughed. She sat down on a nearby ottoman. "Honestly, I think it's the perfect match!" Ginny turned to you. "I've always thought that if Fred and George weren't sorted into Gryffindor, they would have been put in Slytherin," she chortled.

You laughed, "I've said the same thing!"

Ginny laughed with you while George rolled his eyes, smiling.

"I know I probably don't need to say it," George said. "But if you wouldn't mind keeping quiet about y/n and I..."

"Of course!" Ginny scoffed. "Anything for you, George." She stared at you and George contently.

After a moment, George cleared his throat. "It's 'bout time you got back to bed, Ginny."

"Oh, if you say so," Ginny sighed, standing up reluctantly. "I know that you two will just go on snogging again."

George snorted.

"What'd you come down here for anyway?" you asked quickly to change the subject.

"Oh, yeah! Thanks for reminding me." Ginny went over to the side table, opened its single drawer, and pulled out a tattered, black book. She tucked it under her arm. "Goodnight, you lovebirds!" Ginny said, then headed back up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

You and George sat in silence for a short moment before he began to chuckle.

You blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I just can't believe how scared you were," he snickered. You shoved George playfully, causing him to laugh harder. "Terrifying, little Ginny!"

"I didn't want to be discovered, same as you!" you giggled, slightly embarrassed. Your smile drifted away as concern filled your mind once again. George stopped laughing when he noticed your mood faltering. "You really... you really don't think she'll tell anyone?" you asked timidly. You had a suspicion that Ginny might be one to gossip.

George smiled caringly, lovingly, and pulled you closer into a warm embrace. "Yeah. I trust her. And..." He stroked your hair as he carefully chose his words. "I've been meaning to... this was good timing. I think it's about time you met my family anyway."

You pulled away slightly so you could look George in the eye. "Do you really mean it? Even if you don't meet mine... just yet?"

"I do," George replied, then sweetly kissed the top of your head.

[whinlatter]

think (harry/ginny) | a microfic

day 13 of @hinnymicrofic | prompt: think

He showers quick, tries to scrub the train off him. Snorts at the sight of Vernon’s large bottle of hair-thickening shampoo. Having stared at his uncle’s head all the way back from London, he reckons Vernon’s due a refund.

There's some lurid deodorant of Dudley's - hair gel, too, looks cheap and shit. He feels a stab of pity for whichever poor girl his cousin’s trying to scrub up for these days. Dudley trying to pull, he thinks with a laugh, Christ. But thoughts of pulling lead to thoughts of girls, which lead, inevitably, to thoughts of Ginny.

He shoves the hair gel back on the shelf. Adds Dudley pulling to the don’t think about it list he’d started making on the train, somewhere around the Cumbrian border, when Ron had offered him a Caramel Kappa, Ginny’s favourite, and he’d wanted to throw up all over the chess board.

The Dursleys had waited all of two seconds after he’d slammed the car boot shut before speeding off to dinner at some miserable gastropub off the M3. Suits him fine, wants to be alone. He stabs a fork through the plastic film of his ready-meal, makes sure to puncture the yellow reduced sticker Petunia's left on for his benefit, and watches the bright white of the mashed potato atop the shepherd’s pie whirling around in the microwave. 

You know, it’s made from real shepherd, he’d said to Ginny once. That’s such a dad joke, she’d said, and he’d said I wouldn’t know and she’d said Potter you get one dead dad joke a day and you already used today’s up at breakfast. Shepherd’s pie is on the don’t think about it list, then, he thinks, just before he burns his fingers sliding the ready meal onto a tray. Probably best add cottage pie, too, same idea. Maybe all savoury pies, play it safe.

He flops down on the sofa, feet up on the coffee table, eats straight from the hot plastic as he flicks through channels. The nine o'clock news is all budget this, Hong Kong that, Tim Henman out at Wimbledon. The nine o’clock news is not Dumbledore's dead, Snape murdered him, there’s a war on, Harry Potter's dropped out of school to go hunt bits of Voldemort's dismembered soul. 

Dropped out of school, he thinks. Scandalous, delinquent. What d'you reckon? he asks the Ginny in his head. Harry Potter, troubled dropout? Do anything for you? The Ginny in his head laughs. It’d be fun if she were here, he thinks, curled up next to him on this ugly sofa, taking the piss out of Petunia’s cushion covers and Dudley’s wrestling trophies. Imagines taking her up to his bedroom, pointing out the lamp Dobby whacked himself around the head with. But then the Ginny in his head looks at him and says I never really gave up on you and I knew this would happen in the end, and it all bursts, shatters into a hundred dusty pieces.

He chucks the rest of the meal in the bin, adds dropping out of school to the stupid list. Might as well add the budget, Hong Kong and Tim Henman, why not.

Turns off the telly, goes upstairs and lies on his bed, fully-clothed, staring up at the ceiling, because on the walk from the living room to his bedroom the list has expanded to include his trunk (train, Hogwarts, Ginny), his jumper (still smells a bit like her on the left arm, pathetic), and Hedwig (how does it feel knowing your owl prefers me, Potter?).

He stares out of the window for a while, eyes next door's new extension, which sort of works - ugly nothing suburbia - until he remembers the twins and Ron at the window in a flying Ford Anglia, zooming him off to the Burrow where a little red headed girl is blushing and sticking her elbow in the butter dish and god, this really is shit, isn't it, they weren't lying. She knew then, of course she did. He's never been good at thinking of nothing, has he, and he's thought about her as he falls asleep every day since about October, so what chance does he have now?

He's dreading the dreams the most, knows they'll be unbearable. Almost hopes he dreams of lockets and green light and dead headmasters. Can't be worse than bright brown eyes, freckles on a bottom lip (how do you even get freckles on your bottom lip, Gin? Don't be jealous of my freckles, Potter, just because your skin's so boring), the smell of her hair (what do you mean my hair smells? What is that supposed to mean? Why are you laughing?) and the sound of her laugh and her gasps and the sound of her breathing, soft, lying beside him under the cloak on the lakeshore. Looking down under the table at dinner, seeing her thigh next to his on the bench, hand on his knee, body drawn to his, magnets, magic.

When he wakes groggily the next day - crick in his neck, still in his jeans - his first thought is: he's overslept. He’s missed Ginny on her way down to breakfast, going to be late for Potions, fucked it.

But no, of course not. There’s no Ginny, no breakfast, no Potions. Might still have fucked it, though, who's to say. Don't, he tells himself, as he heads for the bathroom to scrub the night off him, just don't think about it.

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