#who resists to switch to Slytherin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dracowars · 2 years

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hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on fred weasley in which y/n is a slytherin who's best friends with draco and is in the same year as the golden trio. she's the typical pureblood, stubborn and proud slytherin, but also kinda shy. her and fred hate each other and are always bickering and even tough they don't realise it they actually have a lot of sexual tension going on since they're unconsciously attracted to each other. the rest is up to you.

thankss

frenemies | fred weasley

pairing: fred x syltherin!reader

word count: 2,4k

summary: where fred loves nothing more than to tease y/n

a/n: i hope you like this, i still feel a bit insecure about writing for other hp characters >.<

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of injuries

universe: harry potter

“Mr, Weasley! Now, would you please leave Ms. Y/L/N alone and stop flirting with her”, Professor McGonagall’s loud and stern voice suddenly says behind you, and her words immediately make your cheeks flush a bright red color, while anger builds up inside of you because Fred Weasley once again managed to embarrass you in front of the whole class. Because now, of course, everyone is looking directly at you, and you would like to slide down your chair as low as possible in order to helplessly disappear under the table and escape your classmates’ curious looks. Fred, on the other hand, seems little bothered by the comment about his very inappropriate behavior – it never bothers him – and he only straightens up with that disgusting smug grin after bending down toward you and your table, one elbow on the tabletop.

Literally everyone can see that you are extremely embarrassed and feel very uncomfortable about this situation, but Fred seems to be even more amused now than when he teased you about your supposedly wrong homework only minutes before. When McGonagall finally approaches, he gives you a wink before turning to her.

“You know, professor.. I just can’t resist Y/N. She is so adorable”, Fred enthuses like a little boy in love, but the sarcasm is clearly evident in his voice. You hate being called adorable, and he knows it. That is why he even says it in the first place. To annoy you. As always.

“I am really happy for you, Mr. Weasley. But let us not ignore the fact that your flirting disturbs everyone else while studying”, Professor McGonagall rebukes him and since he knows that he can only lose this conversation, he finally gives in and goes back to his seat to high-five his twin brother. As is they had another success. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your parchment, but your heartbeat is still beating hard against your chest.

════════════

The wind strongly blows through your hair, blocking your view for a brief moment as it flies in front of your eyes. The spring-like weather takes some getting used to and you would actually much rather sit in your warm common room by the fireplace, with a cup of tea, a fluffy blanket and maybe a good book. But since you are a good best friend – the best of all, to be honest – you could not say no when Draco asked if you would like to watch his Quidditch practice today. You love watching him, you really do, but you prefer watching him when it is warm outside, and you are not stuck in the thick layers of clothing.

Unfortunately for you, the Gryffindor team decided to do their weekly training session today as well, which means you have to look around for possibly incoming danger every two seconds. Fred Weasley could be lurking around every corner.

Concentrating on your best friend as best you can, you find your gaze switching towards the red-colored team across the field, your view particularly getting caught on a red-haired boy who catches and returns your gaze at that precise moment. Your pulse immediately increases, out of embarrassment at being caught and also because he gives you his brightest smile, accompanied by a wave of his hand.

Shaking your head, you turn your eyes back to your house team, which is racing across the field at this moment, chasing and dodging the balls. It never ceases to amaze you how good you team has become in recent years. Of course you believed in them from the very start, you are a Slytherin after all, yet every year you become even more enthusiastic about the sport. You would never fly that fast with your broom, even if you do not like to admit it. Your grades are perfect in every subject, but there is a lot of room for improvement in Broom Flight Class.

“Hey Y/N!”

Violently jumping from shock, you look directly into the eyes of Fred Weasley, who is now hovering in front of the grandstand with his broomstick, only a few centimeters away from you. Again, there is that smirk on his lips when he looks at you. Sometimes you think he is making fun of you, but sometimes, very occasionally, you fancy you see something else, something more, in it.

“Fred Weasley, when are you going to learn that it is rude to startle people like that?”, you roll your eyes in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest while holding his gaze. Although you cannot exactly explain how you manage to hold his piercing gaze right now.

“Your team has just challenged us to a training game. If I were you, I would rather switch houses quickly”, Fred recommends, a victorious expression on his face.

“If I were you, I would rather be careful not to accidentally get hit by a bludger”, you counter, raising an eyebrow, letting your mind wander for a second to how good he actually looks in his Quidditch uniform.

“You do not have to worry about me, my love. I am already grown up”, Fred winks at you, then pats himself on the shoulder before twisting his head in different directions to crack his joints. As if he were preparing for a bitter fight.

“Well then you should win the game with ease”, you reply, you ambition gaining the upper hand. Slytherin needs to win this practice match just so you can tease Fred about it. “Good luck, Weasley. You will need it.”

In fact, team Slytherin is more likely to be the team that needs that luck right now. They are already far behind, and Draco and Harry are in a fast race, chasing the golden snitch. Just when you think Draco is going to get hold of it, there is a scream that makes you look around.

However, all you can see is a large brown ball directly coming your way at breakneck speed and you have no choice but to protect yourself with your arms crossed over your head. You wait for the painful blow, but it does not come. Instead, there is loud cheering.

Puzzled and a little scared, you look up to see Fred flying right in front of you, apparently batting the bludger away from you with his bat in order to save you from getting hit.

“Are you alright?”, Fred asks you, suddenly not at all interested in winning when Slytherin scores a goal due to his momentary absence on the field, concern in his voice. Not quite knowing what is happening, you just nod slightly, the shock still coursing through your body. Fred seems to interpret your cold answer in such a way that he should not have asked, which is why his facial expression immediately petrifies.

“This is how a good training should go! The bludger would never have hit you anyway. After all, the best Quidditch player in the world is flying right in front of you”, Fred finally tried to cover up his sudden insecurity with jokes and only now do you realize that your sparse answer must have seemed wrong to him. And even if he is annoying you again with these kinds of statements, he just saved you from getting brutally hit.

“Thank you”, you say a little louder, a small smile on your lips, which is why he widens his eyes for a moment. Whenever you talk to him, you rarely show him your genuine and beautiful smile. In fact, you try to never show any emotion when he is around. Which is good, because otherwise Fred would not have been able to hold himself back months ago.

“O-Of course”, Fred stutters out, which seems to shock you both a bit. Fred Weasley suddenly feeling insecure? Maybe you were indeed hit by a bludger.

“Fred! When you are finally done flirting with your girlfriend, how about you give us a helping hand here?”, Oliver Wood, the team captain of Gryffindor, suddenly yells loudly across the pitch, obviously annoyed that he has to play with one player less.

“She is not- Oh. Nevermind, doesn’t matter”, Fred wants to explain, but quickly interrupts himself for the best. Already about to set off on his way back, he turns to you one last time, the typical grin on his lips. “See you later!”

════════════

„You were absolutely amazing out there, Draco!”, you cheer as you wait for your best friend by the changing rooms before he finally appears, jumping into your arms as soon as he sees you. Slytherin only won because Draco managed to catch the snitch after all.

“I know, we are all in great shape. We will win the game at the weekend with ease”, Draco smiles happily, but also exhausted from the strenuous training session.

“Thh, yes, of course. Because you are playing unfair, not because you are good”, Fred suddenly joins your conversation, who just came to the changing rooms as well, now standing right in front to you with a look of disappointment on his face. Draco takes a step forward towards him, hiding you a little behind him, going into full attack mode within seconds.

“Oh yes? Do you want to say that again, Weasley?”

“Draco, let it go”, you try to hold your best friend back by trying to pull him back on his shoulder, but without success.

“Slytherin is playing unfair. Or how are you going to explain to me that Potter has a broken arm, Wood almost suffered a concussion, and I am bruised all over my body?”, Fred spits out, clearly and visibly angry at how the game went for his team. You have never seen him like this before, so down, and angry and hurt.

You can already feel how Draco is more than ready to attack, but Fred decides to be the wiser one this time and gives in, simply turning away with a shake of his head and disappearing into the changing room.

“What an idiot”, Draco murmurs angrily, but lets it rest for now. However, you feel the desperate urge to follow Fred, especially after seeing the numerous bruises on his arms. Carefully, you sneak away from Draco as he is busy talking to his team captain and step into the cabin where Fred disappeared into before, now sitting on one of the benches with his head hanging low.

“Fred? Are you alright?”, you ask hesitantly, your voice barely louder than the wind outside, which has died down in the meantime. When he hears your voice, he immediately raises his head in shock, but lowers it again right away as if he does not want to talk to you.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Was just a stupid game.”

“That is not why I asked. I ask if you are okay. The bruises-”

“Not that bad. They will be gone again soon enough.”

“O-Oh. Good. Then- Uhm, well- I think you played very well today”, you stutter our and inwardly slap yourself across the face because you seem to have forgotten how to speak like a normal person all of a sudden. A brief silence spreads between you at your words, until he lifts his head, looks straight at you, and then smiles without saying a word. This small gesture immediately triggers sheer chaos in you, and you do not even know what your words just triggered inside of him.

“Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me”, Fred finally answers you, visibly in a better mood now than he was a few minutes ago. “You know how to cheer someone up.”

“Well, I am doing my best”, you giggle sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while looking anywhere but him.

“I know.”

“So- I, uhm-”, you clear your throat, having absolutely no idea what else to say. With your thumb you point toward the door over your shoulder as you already take a step back. “I will go and leave you alone-”

“Whoa, folks. You guys are so incredibly awkward, I can hardly stand it”, George’s voice suddenly sounds behind you after you had to interrupt yourself when you accidentally bumped into him while going backwards as he came in at exactly that moment. You do not know how much he overheard, but definitely the last words, if not more.

“Could you guys finally, I dunno, make out or something so I do not have to watch this tragedy any longer?”, George suggests bluntly, but his statement makes you even more nervous now. How can he just say something like that out loud?

“George!”, Fred and you say at the same time, both deeply outraged by his twin brother’s silly suggestion. Even though you have to admit the idea does not sound as wrong in your head as you initially thought. With his hands up in fake surrender, George quickly backs out of the danger zone, disappearing out of the door as fast as he entered.

“I really have to leave now-”

“Were you seriously worried about me?”, Fred interrupts you sternly, his expression unreadable as he looks at you wide-eyed after he has stood up and his face is now hovering so much higher above you. You want to give him a teasing answer, some kind of scathing comment, but because he asked the question so genuinely, all you can think of is the truth.

“I always worry about you”, you reply shyly, but this time you do not avert your gaze. You look deep into his eyes, and you realize once again how beautiful they actually are. However, you did not expect that he would suddenly pull you into a tight hug, making you feel more secure and protected than you felt in a very long time.

“I knew it”, he finally murmurs after resting his face on your shoulder. You can almost feel his cheeky smile, so you reluctantly push him away, his body vibrating with laughter. Outraged, you start to counterattack, but he quickly puts his hand on your mouth to prevent you from cursing at him.

“You are incredibly cute when you look at me like this”, Fred smiley, leaving you completely and utterly speechless. Who would have thought that Fred Weasley, the boy who loves nothing more than to annoy you all the time, always eliciting a snide comment form you, would one day leave you speechless. And he intensifies this even more when he suddenly puts his lips on yours in a passionate kiss.

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fieldofsecretss · 2 years

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Request: Slytherin reader dating someone else and they treat her bad making Draco notice and he takes care of her holding her tight promising it will be ok then smut 🤍😭😂

Just hold me closer-D.M

Requested: yasss 👏

Smut-hurt-comfort-fluff

——————————————————————

Pain, sadness, anger

That’s all you felt right now. You were seated on the edge of your best friends bed, Draco. Sniffles and sobs was all you could muster.

“H-how could I be so fucking stupid!” You said, voice broken and laced with anger...

“It’s not your fault he’s a fucking player, y/n” Draco said while rubbing your back soothingly, in a attempt to calm you down just a bit.

“But I fell for his game, Draco! I didn’t realize how badly he treated me all along, I wish I could’ve just turn back time and fucking kick him right in the-“

“Okay! Okay, I get it darling. No need to get aggressive. I warned you about him everyday, but you would be so stubborn and not listen to a single word I had to say about him.” Draco said and you just looked at him with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry...” you said full of shame

“For what exactly, darling?” He asked confused as if he had missed something

“For not listening” you answered. And he knew this was so wrong in so many levels, but the way you looked at him with tears decorating your cheeks, a few buttons on your school shirt undone showing cleavage and the way you apologized made his cock harden…

“You have always treated me right and making me realize my worth, I don’t know why I didn’t listen to you this time-“

You were cut off by Draco smashing his lips on yours, you were taken aback by his sudden action at first but soon you returned the kiss. It was hungry, rushed and it were full of…something you couldn’t describe...

He pulled back to catch his breath and look at you for consent. You gave him a encouraging nod. Lips were connected again, he laid you down on the bed and let his hand roam your body. You took the freedom to feel his abs through his shirt and you couldn’t resist to lightly whimper.

“You have been a very bad girl now baby…not listening to what daddy tells you, what happened to the obedient girl who always listened to her daddy hm?” He asked, y/n’s submissive side came to surface immediately.

“M’sorry daddy..” Your thighs rubbed against each other, an uncomfortable feeling in your panties caused by your arousal smearing on your thighs.

“Didn’t ask for apologies, angel” he said and flipped you around so you were laying on your stomach and Draco behind you.

“Ass up baby girl” he said, voice determined and husky.

And you obeyed, arching your back and pushing your ass up. You felt him move and switch behind you, spreading your cheeks apart and pressing his thumb at your entrance.

“So wet f’me already?” He mocked with a cocky smile. He hiked your skirt up to reveal your perfectly built ass...

He gave your ass a rough squeeze making you let out a airy moan. He stopped and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He bent down to give your lower back a kiss before standing up again running his hands along your body.

“I hate to see you cry, angel...” he said. But that’s not true, he took quite pleasure in seeing you cry. Having you tremble and sob was the most goddamn beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

“Sorry I was a bad girl and didn’t listen daddy…” you said tears threatening to fall again.

“Yeah angel, you should be” He wanted to show you what you were missing out while you were busy simping over Zabini who played you around like a show off trophy.

-he wanted to you to be his. No he needed you to be his. He had to prove to you that he owned you, you were his property.

He slipped off your baby blue panties painfully slow.

“Now angel…gonna let daddy put his cock inside that tiny cunt of yours? Gonna fill you up with m’babies til you’re round, sounds good hm?”

The only word that left your mouth was a weak and pathetic ‘please’

You lifted your hips a little and moved your feet a little wider to show how bad you needed him right now. Draco cracked a proud smile. He unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the ground with a sharp thud, making you jolt up a little in surprise.

Soon enough he’s aligned at your entrance, torturing you with his slow actions.

“You’re mine now” you heard him whisper before he forcefully pushed inside of you, he was so big, the sting making you feel like you were on fire. You made grabby hands to show him that you needed comfort

“H-hold...” you said, voice cracking

“What’s that, angel? Wanna hold hands?” Draco mocked in a loving way. You only nodded while a tear slowly danced down your flushed cheeks. He leaned forward and intertwined his fingers with your small ones. Now the stretch was bearable.

He moved in further, ripping a sob out of you while doing so. Now he pushed even more so that he was buried deep inside of you, he was fully inside of you. He gave you some time to get used to the feeling.

Your legs shook, struggling to take all of him. But apparently nothing is impossible.

He groaned and squeezed your hand a firm squeeze to distract you a little.

“So small, so innocent all for me to ruin”

“You sure you can take this, angel?” He asked.

“Y-yes m’sure but you’re so b-big” you answered stubborn as always.

He started to move and at last he started to thrust deep inside of you. He watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your tight cunt. The pain from the stretch was compensated with the erotic and intimate feeling.

Your walls soft like velvet and the wetness he created making him loose his mind on you.

“Bloody hell, angel” he moaned while he threw his head back in pleasure and you answered with moan after moan...

He was so hard and heavy inside of you

“D-daddy-oh” you said in between moans and pants. Your whole body was sore and tired. His hand soon landed where you were sinfully connected and started to rub rough circles on it making electricity shoot through you. Moans increased in volume and your bodies had a thin glistening layer of sweat.

Draco grunted in pleasure, he felt himself slowly loosing control while fucking you in a animalistic pace.

“Your mine, only mine. I’m not sharing...No one can fuck you like I can, fucking Zabini don’t know what he lost!” Draco said while postponing himself in you in a brutal pace.

The double stimulation making the coil in your tummy tighten and bliss flowing in your veins.

Draco feels how close you were, squeezing him like a vice

“That’s it, c’mon cream all over my cock, cum for me angel” he hissed.

You screamed his name while you fell apart-euphoria. Coating his cock with your release, the mere sight of it and with a bias his thick white ropes of cum filled you up to the brim. The feeling making you shiver. He stayed inside of you to make sure to all of his white sin stays inside of you. When he had catched his breath again he pulled out carefully.

He observed how your small figure shook under him, he smiled lightly and kissed your sweaty forehead . He cleaned you up and you two laid together in his bed.

“Your mine now y/n, if you’ll have me. Zabini don’t know what he lost at all, he lost the world right before his eyes, y/n.”

At that a tear fell, not of hurt, not of pleasure but of love. You were so in love with Draco and have always been, but because of your strong bond you thought he just saw you as a good friend. But now he’s proven to you that you are his and no one else’s.

“Hold me closer Draco” you said and he swore his heart just melted.

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #fanfic #imagines #drabbles #draco smut #fluff #draco x reader #hp smut

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potter-imagines · 3 years

Text

A Worm? - Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Prompt: It’s three in the morning and Fred can’t sleep. Luckily for him, his girlfriend has to most random questions on her mind.

Notes: I've seen this on tiktok as trend to text your boyfriend so I made it into a write, hope you enjoy (:

Warnings: None (: (making out if that counts ???)

Word Count: 3.9k

You know that feeling of finally retreating to your room and crashing down on your bed after a strenuous day? Getting to snuggle into the warmth of the soft mattress and engulf your body in massive heaps of blankets, it was one of the greatest feelings in the world to Fred Weasley. Although what made it absolute perfection was the nights when his girlfriend, Y/n Y/l/n, would join him. Sleepovers were no rarity for the couple- nor for their roommates who had begrudgingly accepted the constant giggling and whispering throughout the night. Weekend sleepovers were his favorite as it meant neither of them were scrambling to get out of bed for class in the morning and he could lay with her for as long as they wanted.

Tonight was no different. Nearly every living soul occupying the lands of Hogwarts was fast asleep, lulled into a galaxy of dreams. Fred wondered if he was the only one awake at such an hour. The darkness from the nighttime sky poured into the room through the glass windows. The light casted shadows around the room making it difficult to make out the different shapes. Fred could barely make out the sleeping frame of his twin brother, George, who was tucked in his bed feet away. Similar was Lee, however his thunderous snores echoed off the walls giving confirmation that was in a deep sleep.

On Fred’s half of the room the silence was deafening. Lee’s snores had become second nature for Fred to block out and in all honesty, didn’t bother him much. Growing up in a home with eight other people, he had that keen ability to muffle out the noise around him. He had to in order to keep a piece of his sanity intact. No one in their sane mind could sit and listen to Ron and Ginny bicker for longer than five minutes before wanting to rip their hair out of their skull. In the same way, noise was comforting to Fred. Yeah, he ignored it for the most part, but it was a familiar feeling to be surrounded by loudness. It was discomforting in a way how still the world felt. Few and far between were the moments when Fred had time to himself. Now that he did, he didn’t want it.

Stealing a glance down to his chest Fred smiled at the sight. Y/n’s head was pressed against his sweatshirt covered chest and her hand was clenched around the material. Her body was cuddled close to him with a blanket draped over them. Fred watched as her stomach lightly rose and fell with every breath. He had lost track of time, not entirely sure how long he had been holding her. Seconds meshed into minutes which grew to hours. He was sure he’d been staring at the ceiling for almost three hours. His attention flipped back and forth, like the pages of a magazine. From the angle he laid, Fred wasn’t able to see if Y/n was awake like him or passed out like his roommates. In a cruel way he wanted to wake her on purpose just for the selfish purpose to hear her voice. He resisted the urge to ‘accidentally’ break her slumber.

Fred’s hand traced patterns on her back absentmindedly as his thoughts drifted like a sailboat floating along the ocean waves. The Quidditch match had taken a large toll on his muscles and all he wanted was to rest. Playing Slytherin was a sure guarantee someone would walk away with an injury- or be carried away. Although Fred knew he wasn’t injured, his arms ached with every slight move from the force he had exhilarated during the match. As much as he desired to switch positions and lay on his side, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb the girl resting in his arms. From her steady breathing he figured she had fallen asleep, that was until her head suddenly popped up from his chest causing the warmth of her head to flee his body. Her quick movement took Fred by surprise as his hand halted and his eyes fixed on the girl. The feeling of sleepiness was fading as her large doe eyes glanced back up at him. Oddly enough, she appeared to be wide awake.

Arching a brow at her Fred looked utterly confused. If her alertness hadn’t startled him enough, her next actions would leave him mind boggled. Y/n perched herself up to a sitting position and wiggled over to place her legs over either side of Fred’s body so she sat in his lap as he laid. A childlike smile graced her lips at the small gasp of surprise from Fred. Tiredness vanished in her eyes as she tilted her head.

“Hey, Freddie?”

“Yes, angel?” He asked cautiously.

His hands reset to her waist to keep her steady as she sat. The stained glass window to the side of his bed allowed a glimpse of moonlight to create a beautiful gradient across her face. The moonlight, a glowing yellowy white, projected an ethereal glow around her. He swore he could see millions of tiny stars sprinkled along her skin, gleaming pin pricks of sparkles gleaming in her e/c eyes.

Y/n leaned forward to wrap her arms around Fred’s neck causing him to mimic her and sit up so his back was pressed to the bed frame. He grabbed the heavy cotton blanket from behind her and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled bashfully in gratitude. Peeking up to Fred, whose face was only a handful of inches from hers, she whispered,

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?”

Fred’s features scrunched in an instant at her question as he pulled back slightly. Half expecting for her to start giggling and the other half completely flabbergasted, Fred gaped at her in confusion. Yet Y/n’s face remained stoic in seriousness as she awaited his reply. He gave her a funny look, as if she’d grown an extra eye. Repeatedly his mouth fell open, then closed again as he failed to formulate a proper thought.

“I’m sorry- if you were a what?”

“A worm.” She repeated once again.

Fred forced himself to bite his tongue to hold his laughter in. As much as he wanted to chuckle at her randomness, she seemed so invested in his answer he didn’t know what to do. Fred averted his gaze to the window in search of an answer. His brain was stuck frozen, like the tracks in his mind were broken. Turning his attention once more to Y/n, Fred squinted his chocolate brown eyes as if examining her peculiarly.

“And why would you be a worm?”

Clearly annoyed by his constant string of questions Y/n let out a breathy huff as she rolled her eyes. Her hands waved up briefly, shooing his inquiry away without second thought. Shaking her head she pressed further. “Because I just am, now answer the question.”

Stillness entered the room while Fred pondered to himself. This time he didn’t hold back the teasing grin that spilled on his face.

“Well, am I worm too?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows to her suggestively. Y/n shoved his shoulder back playfully as she giggled softly. Fred always knew how to make her smile, even if the situation didn’t call for it. Even if it was three in the morning and the two of them should be flying through a dreamland of sleep.

Fred’s back leaned into the wood of the frame as he allowed his head to touch against it. Locks of ginger hair brushed against his face. Instinctively Y/n moved her hand out to skim them away from his eyes so she could see them. Fred fought a mental war against the shiver that threatened to escape his body from her gentle stroke. Shaking her head, Y/n shot down his interrogation. “No, you’re just a regular person.”

“So I would be a Muggle in love with a worm?” Fred chuckled at the bizarreness to her rules for her imaginary prompt. Although he hadn't a clue where this was heading, it was entertaining and he had every intention of paying into it, including teasing the girl a tad. There was something so adorable about the flashes of anger and frustration that snapped across her face at his procrastination to answer. Fred found it irresistible. The way her cute face knotted into uncomfortable glares and frowns while he continued to toy with her. He loved it.

Y/n sighed to herself, certainly growing exhausted then reiterated,

“No, no, you’re still you, I’m just a worm.”

“A magic worm?” His eyes widened in feign excitement while her’s narrowed. As much as she loved the childlike nature that was weaved into her boyfriend’s soul, it made it impossible at times to have a serious conversation- not that she truly considered this to be a serious conversation.

A deadpan mien was planted on her face. She turned for a moment to make sure George and Lee were still passed out. Then, she moved her head back to Fred before raising her voice a notch to ensure the message was received loud and clear.

“A worm, Fred.”

His fingers fiddled with the loose strings on her shorts as he pretended to debate his answer. Lips pursed into a thin line, Fred brought his pointer finger up to his chin and hummed.

“I mean… sure?”

Y/n’s grip around his neck loosened immediately at his answer. Her mouth skimmed the ground as genuine displeasure entered her veins. She pulled her arms back to cross them tightly against her chest. Fred’s hands found their previous position on her waist in order to keep her from falling off. She pouted over to Fred with her bottom lip poking out. She tried her absolute best to put everything she had into the over dramatic sad puppy look she had mastered. Fred only cooed at her and pinched the skin of her cheeks between his fingers lightly. Y/n grabbed his hand, pulling it away from her face with a scowl. Despite her glowering appearance, Fred felt a smug grin sneaking up.

“That isn't reassuring at all.” She said with a pointed tone.

Fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose, Fred groaned dramatically as he ran his calloused hand against his skin. Peering up to Y/n he brought his hand up to occupy the warm skin on the back of her neck. He drew his hand closer, pulling her towards him, causing their foreheads connected in a tender touch. The bottom hem of his old tee that she now used as a nighttime shirt tickled his arm as she happily leaned in. With their faces barely an inch apart, Fred lifted his hips to place a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips.

“But angel, you’re not a worm.”

“Just pretend!” She grumbled. Although Fred smirked right at her and, in a very snarky manner, said ‘no’. Y/n clenched her jaw in annoyance at his stubbornness and just as she went to tell him again to play along, a light bulb of an idea sparked in her head.

Stealing a glance over either shoulder, Y/n checked to assure both George and Lee were still snoozing. George was practically laying off his bed in a sideways fashion while Lee was spreading starfish across the whole mattress. She swore she could see the drool dripping from his chin from across the room. Her focus swerved to Fred as she felt him adjust under her. Providing him with absolutely no leeway to her plan at all, Y/n locked her arms around Fred’s chest and shoved him down so he was forced to lay on the bed. His breath hitched as his head smacked into the fluffy pillow. The darkness obscured his view leaving him lost at the turn of events until he felt the pressure of her knees pinning his arms to his side. Just like a war attack, she ambushed him. Y/n danced her fingers at lightning speed across his chest and under his arms. Fred broke out into a booming fit of laughter at the abrupt tickle war imposed on him as he desperately fought to get her body off of his. His feet kicked wildly as he tried to free himself but she had too strong of a hold. Fred tried to hold his laughter back but it was all too much for his bdy to handle and the uncontrollable giggles wouldn’t stop.

Y/n laughed at him as she continued to tickle every inch of his upper body that he wasn’t successfully covering. His frantic squirms made it difficult for her to torture him to the best of her ability, however she put up a considerable fight until Fred managed to slip his hand out from between his waist and her knee. Once he did, Fred clamped his hand to her side and flipped the pair around so he was the one sitting on top of her. Both of their chests heaved rapidly as they attempted to catch their breath, both grinning like fools. Fred moved his body to sit in front of her as Y/n took over his previous spot. His hand still remained clenched around her side to keep her from attacking once more. Struggling to regain his composure, Fred gave the girl a teasing glare.

“Fine! Yes, I would still love you very much, even if you were a slimy little worm.”

A satisfied gleam adorned her face as she gave a small cheer. Her arms extended as a welcoming for him to enter. He bent towards her to allow her arms to be thrown around his shoulders. The hug encapsulated his body in a blanket of comfort and love from the feeling of her skin. Fred pressed his lips to her neck and just as he did, her voice broke the air.

“And you’d still give me kisses and cuddles?”

His loud sigh was audible to everyone in the room as his head fell to her chest.

“How in the bloody hell am I supposed to cuddle a freaking worm-” Before he could finish his sentence, Fred saw the look of sadness clouding over his lover’s features and stopped himself. That famous, moody pout had crept its way up and Fred fell victim like always. He reached his hand out to pick hers up from her lap and laced their fingers. Lifting her hand, his lips kissed each of her knuckles then set her hand down on his leg.

“You’re unbelievable… but yes, I would still give you kisses and cuddles. Just not in front of people-” Y/n snatched her hand away from his and threw it across her chest with an animated scoff.

“So you’d be ashamed of me?”

“I hate you so much right now, why the hell are you even asking me?”

The jokingness of the situation breezed out from the room as Y/n tensed. Fred watched her eyes flicker from over his shoulder, then up to his eyes. It was impossible to read the rambunctious ideas bouncing off the walls of her mind and Fred knew better than to speculate but rather give her the time to process. He always said that her mind ran faster than the Hogwarts Express. There was a small smile on her lips, though one he couldn’t read. The spark of glee still flashed through her yet at the same time she seemed uncertain. Her hand pushed loose strands of her hair away from her view, a nervous habit of her’s Fred had picked up on early in the relationship.

Swallowing her nerves, Y/n let her body sink into the plushness of Fred’s bed as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Just wanna make sure you’d love me no matter what.” She mumbled hushly.

Fred furrowed his eyebrows as he studied her in bewilderment. As silly as the conversation was, he could feel a tang of guilt budding in his gut from teasing her. The two had discussed some of the most random, weird topics out there and it was usually just that, a random discussion. Fred was a bit stunned there was a bubble floating around in her thoughts that there might be a time where he stops loving her, because for Fred, the idea of not loving her was simply implausible. Besides, he had fancied her since they met their first year and there was no chance Fred was willing to lose her.

“Okay, well,” Fred crawled to sit next to Y/n’s side as he went on, “I’ll entertain the thought. If you were a worm I would still love you more than any other living creature on this planet. I’d also protect you from all the birds who want to eat you for dinner.” Fred finished by placing a gentle peck to her nose. There was no sense in hiding the contagious grin

“So sweet, Freddie.” The scent of peppermint from her chapstick wafted to Fred’s nose drawing him closer in. Y/n snaked her hand to his cheek and dragged his face towards hers. Right before their lips connected, she paused for a moment. Her e/c orbs flickered to his plump lips, then in one swift motion, she closed the gap with a pucker of her lips and a collision with his. Fred had expected the kiss but was taken aback by the fire she brought to it. The sheer force of her lips caused Fred to sit up and take notice.

Y/n nudged at his side, a silent signal for him to get on top. Fred didn’t need her to ask him twice. He was quick to kick the blankets covering his legs and repositioned himself between hers. Fred leaned forward to spark the flint once again. His hands attached to her face immediately as he pulled her in tightly. This embrace nearly knocked Y/n right off the bed. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a tsunami of passion, curling her toes, unfurling all her senses as the taste of him impaired her. Her whole body tingled, the pressure of his fram leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt like an array of fireworks during the finale of a grand show. Her lips parted against his and the abrupt swipe of his tongue inside her cheeks sent a rush of shivers through her body. The intensity was overwhelming as she struggled to keep hold of his shoulders.

Y/n came to at the need for air and pulled away from Fred. A sharp breath filled her lungs as her hands pressed against his chest keeping him in place. However, Fred was growing impatient by the second and the need to be as close to her as possible was too strong of an urge for him to ignore.

Fred pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her arms gave in and she was using his body to support herself. She was nearly slipping from the bed from the pure force of his kiss. Fred kept his free hand steady on the back of her neck to ensure she wouldn’t fall but in the moment, she really couldn’t care. Wasn’t like they hadn’t had a makeout session on the floor- come to think of it, George had walked in on them just last week.

Their hands roamed over each other as if it was their first time touching another. His fingertips grazed the side of her neck earning a muffled moan from the girl. She tugged at his red hair, which was a guarantee to keep his adrenaline pumping. A vibration buzzed in her mouth as Fred groaned into her from the lustful pain. His body was ever moving as his hips grinded into her. This was a familiar position yet the passion was what made the kiss so electrifying. His elbows were placed on either side of her head to hold himself up as he moved his lips against hers and continued to work his tongue with hers. Y/n trailed her hand down from his fiery locks to his sharp chin where she pressed his lips as deeply into hers as she could manage.

Softly as possible, Y/n slowly pulled herself away from Fred. His eyes cracked open at the lost of warmth against his skin and he glanced down at her. Both smiled at each other until Fred rolled over and slid under the covers. He fixed the blankets around until he felt satisfied then opened his arms, as if inviting Y/n to enter. She obeyed without question and coozied herself into his arms. He wrapped her in a loving cuddle as he pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

Y/n leaned into his body, resting her head against his arm that was linked under her. There was a comforting silence that replaced the steaming air. The clock on Fred’s night stand shone bright with the time, ‘4:08am’, meaning morning had practically arrived and Fred had yet to catch a wink of sleep.

Just as Fred was preparing himself to welcome his slumber, a notion came. Propping himself up on his elbow, Fred reached out to shake the girl’s shoulder.

“Hey, Y/n?”

Y/n gleaned over to him in curiosity. Twisting her body she set her gaze directly on Fred, as if to show him she was intune and listening.

“Yes?”

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?” Fred asked in a whisper. Y/n leered up at him in a disgusted fashion. It looked as if she had been force fed a full can of lima beans and sardines. Those sleepy eyes were replaced by saucer like eyes of revulsion. Poking her tongue out she pretended to gag as her eyes twisted shut.

“Ew, no, why would I be in love with a worm? You can’t even talk and if I kissed you, I might accidentally kiss your butt, gross!” Y/n covered her mouth to mask her fit of laughter that shook through her chest. Fred’s mouth dropped in shock at her words as she unwrapped herself from his hold to shift to her side. He stared at her in astonishment as she threw her legs over the side of his bed. His hand reached out to yank her back but she was already up on her feet smirking to him.

“Are you kidding me? Get back here!”

“I need to use the bathroom- I’ll be back in a flash, wormie.” She blew him a taunting kiss and a wave, then quietly shut the door as she journeyed down the hall to the restrooms. Fred still heard her unruly laughter from behind the large wooden door. As her footsteps grew shallower, Fred tossed his head into the pillow and rolled his eyes. Just like earlier, silence overtook the room and this time, Fred was overjoyed because it meant he no longer had to hear about worms. That was at least until she got back, then he’d surely be having a discussion.

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kraviolis · 3 years

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sorting the owl house characters into hogwarts houses, because im cringe

luz - ravenclaw

she’s creative and clever and is always searching to learn new things and loves learning just for the sake of learning. shes incredibly witty and quick thinking and open-minded. she’s constantly finding clever, creative, and original ways to solve her problems. she hardly blinked when given the opportunity to learn magic, and only continued to show an intense amount of intelligence and appreciation for academics. shes very resourceful as a human learning magic, finding a entirely new form of magic when it was apparent that she couldnt do it the traditional way. she’s very aspiring, wanting to be a witch and an author since she was very young. she’s very logical about a lot of things, like how it doesnt make sense to not allow witches to study multiple tracks or that people were imprisoned just for being themselves. she’s highly encouraging of individuality which is a lesser known trait of ravenclaw but very important. she can be a perfectionist at times and tended to avoid social interaction so she could persue her creativity. she’s outspoken, an overthinker, and very competitive. i think a lot of people might say she’s a hufflepuff, as she’s loyal and kind and hardworking, but luz values learning and creativity above any of those other things— this is evident, when she makes the decision to stay in the boiling isles to learn magic rather than go home to her mom, thus putting knowledge and creativity over her own family.

eda - gryffindor

she’s not afraid to stand up for herself and others and will never back down from a challenge. she would rather die as herself than live unauthentically. she’s very passionate and empathetic. she’s rebellious against rules that dont make sense to her and cares intensely for her friends and family. she has a strong internal moral code that she sticks to intensely, never straying from it. in the very first episode, she breaks into the conformatorium just to get a paper crown thats important to king. she let raine break up with her because she didnt want to burden them with her curse. she forfeited the match with lily because she knew her sister wanted to be in the emperor’s coven more than she ever did. she’s sacrifices herself for luz & king over and over again because she cares so deeply for her.

king - slytherin

he’s self-centered, smart, arrogant, and highly ambitious. he would do anything to achieve his goals— which was at first reclaiming his throne as the king of demons, and then turned into finding out where he came from. he tried to use luz as a means to reach his goals when he became an author, nearly sacrificing their friendship. he became incredibly loyal to luz after that in the same way he’s loyal to eda, the one who raised him.

(other characters under the cut)

lily - slytherin

it was between this and ravenclaw, because she’s incredibly intelligent and does seem to enjoy learning and has a great mind, she’s also incredibly ambitious and prideful. the deciding factor was that she cursed eda just to reach her own goals. she’s still loyal to eda even when working for belos, which says a lot to how she’s loyal to only a select few people. to her, the ends justify the means (making amity cheat to appear like the better teacher, cursing eda to win the duel, kidnapping luz to get belos to cure eda, losing her magic to help eda)

amity - gryffindor

this one was hard, i swapped between slytherin and gryffindor a lot for her. she’s ambitious and intelligent, but also not afraid to do whats right even if means breaking the rules. she’s self-sacrificing and empathetic and prideful. she ended her friendship with boscha to help luz and willow win. she didnt like luz at first because luz kept cheating and messing up her life, which means she has a strong moral code against cheating and bullies. she’s rebellious in small ways at first but once she started realizing how terrible her parents and belos really were, she pulled away extremely quickly.

willow - slytherin

not surprising, if you take into her account of self-preservation and bending of the rules to suit her ambitions. in the first episode she agrees to cheating just to get ahead in school because she wants to make her parents proud, and in the end she switches to the plants track so to her the ends justify the means. she pulled out of the grudgby game when luz pushed her & gus too far, a perfect example of that self preservation. she has a sense of loyalty that extends to very specific people but she always makes sure those people are taken care of. her parents, luz, gus, and eventually king, eda, and amity, too. she wouldn’t die for them, but she would kill for them.

gus - hufflepuff

sure, he has the ravenclaw curiousity and thirst for knowledge, but he’s very kind, hard working, has a strong inner sense of justice and fairness, and is tolerant of others. he helps mattholomule even if he’d been a jerk before because it was unfair if he didnt. he helps luz break into belos’s castle to find a cure for eda, lets luz borrow his library card to see amity, and hated it when mattholomule tried to lie about the human objects. he knows what it feels like to be left behind and underestimated, so he makes an effort to be kind to others who seem to be in the same boat. he’s very young but already so accomplished which is a testament to how hard he works.

hunter - hufflepuff

this one was HARD. it was either slytherin or this, and a deciding factor for this is the fact that he is self-sacrificing. he sacrifices a lot for other people, even if it doesnt seem like it. in the palisman episode, he sacrifices the palismen getting away despite knowing he would be punished for returning empty-handed. in eclipse lake, he leaves to find the titans blood for belos when he simply could have stayed in the castle and been safe. he’s viciously hard-working, dedicated, and loyal to his family. he lets people’s actions speak for them. he doesn’t immediately judge luz for using wild magic and actually seems interested in it before remembering to be loyal to belos. he’s patient, too, as seen by his interactions with luz. he gets frustrated, sure, but he still works with her. he’s modest about his rank and title, preferring to not flaunt it more than needed. but he does take pride in it. he’s kind in his own way, specifically to belos and lil rascal, but you can see it in his interactions with amity & luz, too. with amity, he empathizes with her and gives her advice that he thinks is true, and offers to dig a grave for her too when its apparent that neither of them are getting any titans blood. with luz, he gives up the palismen and protects her from kikimora. that boy is a hufflepuff for sure.

raine - gryffindor

oh buddy theyre the biggest gryffindor ever. they extremely, extremely brave. they have terrible stage fright and anxiety but they still became head bard, and they still ran an underground resistance group, and they still gave everything up just to help eda. they have a strong sense of whats right and whats wrong and incredible amount of passion, empathy, and integrity. they have a great sense of pride— “How did someone with stage fright end up as Head Witch?” “I’m just that good.”— and are very selfless. they stopped eda from sacrificing herself because they knew her kids needed her more, they sacrificed themselves in eda’s place and gave up everything they had just so eda wouldnt have to.

camila - hufflepuff

she’s extraordinarily kind, even when she’s terrified. she’s accepting and open-minded and hardworking, making sure to show luz that she loves her creativity but still wants to make sure luz can do well in school and can make friends. sometimes you can do something you think is kind but isnt really. she’s also a single mother doing her best to give her daughter a good life, which is a credit to how hard she works and how dedicated she is to her daughter. she even took the day off of work to drive luz to camp because she knew luz was anxious and wanted to reassure her. she’s patient with luz, and even when faced with the scariest moment of her life, she’s still thinking of how luz feels rather than her own fears and anger. she’s very much a hufflepuff in the way that she’s quiet and unassuming but fiercely protective of her family.

vee - slytherin

she’s opportunistic and has a sense of self-preservation. she’d rather save her own skin than do that right thing. she’s cunning, having pretended to be camila’s daughter just to have a place for herself. this isnt a bad thing at all, though. she’s also loyal to camila, who she sees as her family, and even got into a fight with luz over how she treated camila. she still listened to luz and let luz help her so that vee could remain living as luz. she doesnt feel guilty about valuing herself ahead of luz.

belos - ravenclaw

honestly? not a hard decision. he’s smart, sure, but he’s not people-smart. he didnt think lilith would betray him after he admitted to lying about healing eda. he doesnt understand loyalty, not even to those close to him. he’s rational and logical rather than emotional. if the theory that he is philip wittebane is to be believed, then its obvious he has an appreciation for learning and knowledge. belos distinctly reminds me of lockhart, or even quirrell, who were also in ravenclaw. he’s got an arrogance to him that blinds him, believing himself to be the smartest and strongest witch on the isles and thus underestimating others, which will only lead him to ruin.

#the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #amity blight #krav talks #my writing #character analysis

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recreancyrpg · 2 years

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Welcome to Recreancy, Maggie!

You have been accepted for the role of LUCINDA TALKALOT!

Lucinda sometimes catches her mother staring at Mica’s portraits in a way that makes her heart wrench. Will her mother stare at Lucinda’s portraits like that one day? She has never doubted that her involvement in the Order is the right choice, and neither does she mind facing down death. But the thought of her parents getting another visit, having to plan another funeral… It makes her feel guilty. It makes her feel doubt, and that is deadly.

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Maggie, she / her

AGE: 25

TIMEZONE: CEST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I do try to be on at least once a day, and keep a steady activity level. My current job has a very chill schedule, so I have lots of time off for writing!

ANYTHING ELSE: Been a while since I’ve been writing for fun / roleplaying, but I miss it and would love to jump back in!

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Lucinda Talkalot

AGE: 19

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Lucinda has never really questioned her gender and simply goes by she / her. Neither has she given a lot of thought to her sexuality, and figures she’s heterosexual - although she’s probably leaning a bit more towards bisexual, she just hasn’t figured it out yet

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: None!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Lucinda being a headstrong, young woman came as a surprise to nobody. Most Talkalots are. Her mom would always grumble and call her a stubborn child, but Lucinda preferred to think of herself as determined. While she’s mellowed out a bit while growing up, and learnt to pick her battles, Lucinda still has kept her stubborn streak. And why wouldn’t she? After all, there’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want in life and working hard to get it. Lucinda has never been one to back down when meeting resistance; in fact, the challenge tends to make it even more appealing. Her stubbornness especially shines when someone tries to push expectations on her; Lucinda wants to forge her own path, thank you very much, and tends to reject any that are imposed on her. She was born with a drive and she’s not going to waste it - wether that means staring down professors being unreasonable about extensions or joining secret organisations.

Another part of Lucinda’s personality that might need some getting used to, is how straight-forward she can be. Don’t get her wrong; Lucinda isn’t unfriendly or mean (well, maybe she can be biting or sarcastic, but rarely mean), but she doesn’t believe in faking overt niceness or softening her words. Faking smiles or cooing at someone helps nobody. She’d rather let conversations and laughter flow naturally, and is quite fond of both - if you just get past her bluntness.

In fact, if you do get past that, Lucinda can be quite likeable and in her earlier years, she never lacked for friends. Calling her a ‘laid-back’ person would probably be the wrong word, but there is some truth in it. She was never the kid with a burning drive towards something, the kind with a ten-year plan aiming towards a specific career or goal. There was never a calling like that. But that didn’t mean that she was devoid of ambition or had no aim in life; Lucinda has just always been more inclined to take things as they come along. She’s more of a day-to-day sort of person, who is in standby until something that engages her comes along. The backside to this is that when that something shows up, Lucinda has a tendency to get tunnel vision. Once something engages her, it’s difficult to switch off.

At least she used to be a more easy-going person. Sometimes she catches glimpses of the girl she used to be; when she’s cooking in her dingy flat and a song she used to love comes on, and she just can’t help a little twirl, or when she’s painting her nails and remembering back to her dormitory days. Back when she didn’t know what she wanted in life, when she wasn’t spending every waking moment consumed by emotions that feels too big for her body. Back when she wasn’t grinding her teeth or pressing her nails into her palms to keep herself from trembling with barely contained anger. Lucinda misses that girl sometimes. Who would laugh freely and sleep without nightmares. Who would read romances and cliché-filled fiction rather than pour over books on attack spells. Sometimes it felt like it wasn’t just Mica who was buried, but a part of Lucinda’s soul. She tries not to think about the person she was or the person she’s become - the one who is constantly sniping and biting, who is colder, who feels guilty every time she laughs. Because sometime she’ll be able to come back from it. Won’t she?

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

It’s almost too easy for someone in Lucinda’s shoes to romantisice the past. To look back at childhood as an endless dream bathed in hazy sunlight, to sigh contentedly and say that every day was filled with laughter and joy. Lucinda scoffs at the idea. Don’t get her wrong; she loves her family more than words can covey and wouldn’t change her upbringing for anything. But a family filled with stubborn, headstrong wixes never made for a peaceful one. The Talkalot house was filled with more life and energy than you could expect from just a four-person household.

Most of the days, it was just Lucinda and her mom Viola. Mica was off to Hogwarts by the time Lucinda started becoming conscious of the world, and their dad, Henry, worked long hours at the wizarding bank. But they still never felt distant. Lucinda remembers how her dad would come home, take off his cloak, and with a twinkle in his eye ask how she’d terrorised the household that day. Lucinda would declare her innocence with utmost conviction while her mom grumbled - but always while biting back a smile. Then they’d have dinner together, with her dad always cleaning up. During summers, Mica would always help, despite being the dutiful one who also helped make the dinner.

He was the reason holidays were her favourite. For a homeschooled child, Mica was the only thing separating terms from breaks - and she lived for them. It would have been easy for him, being so much older, to simply become a distant figure. But even when he was gone, he was always there. Lucinda learnt to read from his letters, her fingers tracing over the words and sounding out the wonders hidden within them. She had her mom write down the replies, and later she’d practiced writing them herself. Lucinda lived for the peck on the window from Mica’s owl, and counted down the days until they went to London to pick him up.

Summers were her favourite, simply because both Mica and her dad was home for so long that the family dynamic flowed more naturally. Sure, tempers could fly hot at the Talkalot house and arguments tended to be heard down the streets, but they also made up equally quick. There were rarely any spoken apologies; that just wasn’t their style. Lucinda and Mica could scream themselves hoarse one moment, and a few hours later he would bring her hot chocolate, she would drink it, and the argument would be settled and forgotten. Their parents could be arguing over dinner, and later the evening dance to the radio. Quick to anger, quick to forgive.

Everything is different now. Suddenly, there’s a distance that can’t be closed. Lucinda tries to avoid visiting her childhood home a lot. It makes her feel awful, but somehow, being home feels worse. Her mom doesn’t laugh like she used to. Her dad doesn’t turn on the radio when he comes home. Lucinda sometimes catches her mother staring at Mica’s portraits in a way that makes her heart wrench. Will her mother stare at Lucinda’s portraits like that one day? She has never doubted that her involvement in the Order is the right choice, and neither does she mind facing down death. But the thought of her parents getting another visit, having to plan another funeral… It makes her feel guilty. It makes her feel doubt, and that is deadly. Lucinda hones in on her anger. She is furious at the world, and, even if she hates to admit it, at Mica. Why didn’t he ever tell her what he was doing? Why didn’t he let her in, why did he leave them? Quick to anger, quick to forgive - but there is nobody to forgive. There will never be relief, never be a token of forgiveness offered for either of them to accept. So Lucinda avoids home, avoids her family, and avoids the guilt.

OCCUPATION:

If Lucinda ever did have a calling for a career, that calling was brutally killed alongside Mica. She wasn’t drifting exactly, before it all happened, but she was still figuring out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. There were the grand fantasies (maybe she could be a Curse Breaker, browsing the world and cracking challenges every day?) and the more realistic plans (okay, maybe something with potions didn’t sounds too bad either - she did quite enjoy working with those). Then everything was sidelined, including grand career ambitions and pesky things like classes and exams.

Her life is still on hold and her job reflects that. Or, well, jobs, plural. It turns out that dedicating your life to an illegal organisation and fighting a lot of suppressed anger isn’t ideal when it comes to holdning down a full-time job. She picks up jobs here and there, usually shops and whoever else she can talk into hiring her, and jumps to the next one when the stack of write-ups becomes too high. Right now, she’s working in Diagon Alley at a potions-shop. She quite likes it actually and is determined to at least try. Also because she is starting to run out of reputable shops, before she has to turn to seedy pubs or Knockturn Alley.

LIVING SITUATION:

Calling her little flat ‘dingy’ is probably being generous, but when you work odd jobs and want to live alone somewhat central in London, that’s the best you’ll get. Lucinda stays in a tiny shoe-box studio, where the deal is that the landlord charges a reasonable price and accepts late rent sometimes, and in return Lucinda doesn’t complain that the place is barely functional and probably in violation of a few safety laws. Her flat is very bare-bones, with just enough furniture and housewares to be functional, and is usually in shambles. It’s not really a home for Lucinda but rather just a place to sleep.

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX:

Lucinda knows that whatever trust she has gained is tentative, but she’s not letting that get to her. The only thing that mattes is that the other Order members trust her when it’s needed, in the heat of battle, and she’s determined to earn that trust by proving that she’s capable. Lucinda has always been decent with hex work and spells, and she’s working to hone her attacks in order to make her speciality battle magic. Not just because she is itching for a fight, but because that is where the action is and how she makes herself an integral part of the Order. By being someone that can be relied on in a fight. Let someone else stay back at the headquarters to make the grand plans and give the orders; wherever they are pointing her, she will fire.

Lucinda is proud to declare her dedication to the Cause, with a capital C. She is willing to die for it, and more than willing to point a finger at anyone who can’t say the same. For her, the order is all-encompassing and everything else is secondary. How can’t it be? But while she is quick to swear herself to it, what The Cause actually is, is muddled - even if she won’t admit it to herself. Yes, of course she cares what the Order does. Her brother isn’t the only one who found his way to an early grave, and more lives will be stolen if nobody stands up and fights back. The people responsible must be stopped. But if you prod, the truth Lucinda won’t acknowledge is that the Order is a means to an end. Of going after her brothers killers and making things right. It’s a way to twist all her grief and rage into something useful, to redirect all the emotions she doesn’t want to feel. And maybe her drive is the wrong one - but what does it matter? She’s still doing what needs to be done and dedicating herself body and soul to The Cause, no matter the cost. Everything else is secondary as long as she keeps it under control. Or at least so she tells herself.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Lucinda’s relationships were spiralling long before she actually joined the Order. After her life was switched upside down, it felt like an invisible wall was raised between Lucinda and everyone else. Like even if she tried, she couldn’t push through it. Instead of trying to work through the barrier dividing her from others, she leans into it. Lucinda knows that she can come across as crass and that nobody wants to make friends with someone who bites. Sometimes she looks at the camaraderie between the other Order members and feel a pang; sometimes she misses being the person who can easily make friends and just have a laugh. But she tells herself that she’s not there to make friends and that spending her time trying to be well liked is a waste. Besides - she knows the risk this life brings first hand. If she’s not close, at least it won’t hurt as much when someone bites it).

Dirk Cresswell: He feels like the last connection she has to her brother, which makes his aloofness all the more infuriating. The thing is, Lucinda is desperate for answers, and he seems to be the best person to give them to her. She is determined to get them - and maybe through getting to know him, she can better understand Mica too?

Wila Travers: While Lucinda hasn’t actively done anything to make contact, a part of her views Wila as a kindred soul. There’s an understanding; they are both there to make things right, to take down the people who have taken someone from them. But would sharing a pain make it better, or worse?

Gwendolyn Lockhart: Lucinda briefly views her as an ‘in another life’ friend. She has always been interested in potions, having considered it a career at some point, and wonders if they could have ended up on the same path had things been different. Besides, there’s something very admirable about someone who isn’t willing to back down; had Lucinda been here to make friends, Gwen might have been a first choice.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I’m a go-with-the-flow/chemistry kind of person! Obviously Lucinda isn’t in the headspace to actively go for any sort of relationship right now, but I’m not opposed to anything and like to just see what develops.

INTERPERSONAL STRUGGLES:

I feel like Lucinda’s got interpersonal struggles for days! But in all seriousness, this is such an interesting point. Coming in, we’re at the point where Lucinda isn’t really trusted (something that irks her lightly) and she isn’t exactly gunning to charm the rest of the organisation into trusting her. She has a lot of internal, conflicting issues going on (struggling with her grief for Mica, her anger at the world and the Death Eaters in particular, complex feelings of guilt for moving on with her life, etc) that will greatly affect her behaviour and thus her relationship with other characters. While I’ll have to go with how things develop naturally, I can see her struggles playing out in lots of different ways. Long-term, Lucinda can’t keep up her current habits and her refusal to move out of the anger-stage of grief. Still, at the start she’s still very much just burning and that’s ought to lead to interesting dynamics in an organisation where everyone else is struggling with their own problems.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?:

Is saying ‘everything’ cheating? As for ‘why this roleplay’, I really loved the vibes of Homenum; exploring the dynamics and relationships between the Order members, and the internal character exploration. It’s such an interesting concept - how does fighting on the losing side of a magical war affect you? I also really love the style of longer-based paras focusing on developing characters and relationships in addition to advancing the plot. As for Lucinda; she looks like such an interesting character to play! I love the idea of exploring this complex relationship she has with herself and the world around her, and how she will move through her grief. Reading through her bio, I feel like she’s kind of just stuck in this limbo where her entire world is frozen, but she will have to move forward at some point and I would just love to explore that journey.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): Can’t think of any right now, but muse will probably get to me!

ANYTHING ELSE? Sorry for slamming this in last minute (time zones are messing with me!), but thank you for reading through my app <3.

#recreancyaccepted #lucinda talkalot app

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imagine-that · 4 years

Text

Nightmares

Warnings: none I think? Mentions of nightmares???

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader

You shoot up as you wake, sweat running down your neck as you tremble, careful to bite back your cries in order not to wake the others in your dorm.

It seemed that every night lately, you had some form of nightmare. Whether it was of your friends and family being murdered, yourself being attacked or a mix of both along with others, you would be woken by yourself or one of your irritated roommates.

Tonight, to your relief, it was the former.

Usually it would be Pansy and she had a rather cruel way of waking you up, often deciding to hex you, which tended to hurt like hell.

Quietly as possible, you grab your blanket off the four poster bed and wrap it around your shoulders, dragging the very bottom along the floor as though it were a cloak as you made your way down to the common room.

Still shaking, you pull your wand out recite a fire spell in a hushed tone, smiling sleepily to yourself as the fireplace lights up the Slytherin common room in a vibrant orange hue.

You grab a book off one of the few shelves in the common room and, shivering, you get as comfortable as you can on one of the sofas, opening it to the first page.

You always knew the Slytherin room was drafty due to its placement in the dungeons but it became even more evident to you when you’d started to have nightmares. You couldn’t stay in the same place when they happened, fearing that they may continue if you tried going straight back to sleep.

Sitting out in the common room had become a nightly ritual for you, not that anyone really knew that. You were too embarrassed to tell anyone in your house about them and Pansy had taken enough convincing to keep her from telling anyone else. You didn’t want to risk being known as the Slytherin crybaby or anything like it.

Just as you went to flip the page, a footstep echoed from over at the boys dormitory doorway, making you quickly jump to action.

In as quiet a whisper as you can muster, you put out the fire and gently place the book on the end table nearest, shrinking down into the couch cushions as much as possible and staying deadly still.

“Hello? Anyone out here?” A voice asks in a groggy whisper and you resist the urge to let out a squeak of worry, knowing exactly who the owner of the voice was.

You hold your breath, silently begging for him to go away. When you hear the footsteps moving away, you take a deep sigh of relief, sitting back up and muttering lumos before picking your book back up.

“Y/n? What the bloody hell are you doing up?” The same voice as before asks, making you shriek and drop your wand and book, the book falling into your lap and the wand clattering onto the floor.

“Merlin you scared me Draco!” You sigh, getting down onto the floor to find your wand.

Just as you wrap your hand around the handle and get back to your feet, you jump back, surprised to find him directly in front of you, light shining in your eyes.

“What’re you doing up y/l/n?” He repeats himself.

“Loads of schoolwork. Had to get it finished.” You lie with a small shrug, hoping he buys it.

He looks over at the table beside you and returns his gaze to yours.

“Then why am I not seeing any work?” He asks, gesturing around at the different work desks in the room.

You open your mouth to speak but no other lies come to mind.

“Fine. I couldn’t sleep.” You murmur, your face in a frown.

“Care to elaborate?” He asks, taking a seat on the sofa where you are just moments ago. You open your mouth but before even a word comes out, he pats your spot, telling you to sit down.

You sigh, too tired to protest, and sit back down.

“As I was about to say, these bloody nightmares have been keeping me up.” You grumble reluctantly, scowling down at the floor.

He tilts his head, staring at you in curiousity. “Is there a specific reason?” He asks a moment later, leaning back into the couch in his habitual manner.

“No, none at all.” You murmur, biting your lip as the lie slips off your tongue.

“You aren’t a very good liar y/n.” He notes.

You sigh, giving in and making direct eye contact with him.

“They’re terrifying. They make me break out into a sweat and cry and want to never sleep again sometimes.” You admit, the words falling out of your mouth quickly.

He looks at you for a second in concentration, almost as if one may look at a puzzle.

“Come on.” He mutters, standing up.

Slightly shocked and confused, you do as he said, almost nervously.

“Is there a reason I’m now able to enter the boys dormitory?” You ask sleepily.

He rolls his eyes with an easy scoff. “Please. We broke that charm month’s ago.” He replies, walking down the small winding hall.

You trail unsurely behind him, trying to figure out for yourself what it was he was doing.

“Where are we going?” You whisper.

He puts a finger to his lips, opening the door in front of him and ushering you into the room.

When you enter, you realize where it is you are.

“Draco, Snape will kill us.” You hiss.

He sighs, sitting down on the only empty bed in the room.

“If you don’t shut up you’ll wake everyone in the castle.” He growls back.

You stand there awkwardly, switching your weight from foot to foot.

“Well? Come here then.” He insists, patting a spot on the bed next to him.

“Draco no!” You cry and you clap a hand over your mouth when you realize how loud it was, not wanting to wake his roommates.

“Y/n, we’ll get you back into your dorm in the morning. Now stop being so ridiculous and get over here.” He hisses back. Reluctantly, you do just that, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“You might want to lay down to sleep.” He mutters, getting comfortable himself.

You bite your lip, glancing over at him.

“No need to be shy darling.” He teases and you scoff, moving up and laying down in front of him.

“I have you know, I am not shy.” You murmur, pulling the blankets over you.

“‘Course not.” He says quietly, an arm draping over your torso comfortably.

You shut your eyes, surprising yourself by how comfortable you are in a bed with Draco. You’d never really interacted with him that much but you’d definitely noticed how attractive he was. Still, it was strange to see him showing this much compassion to you.

“Gnight Draco.” You breath sleepily, already starting to fall asleep.

“Night y/n.” He replies, his head rested in the crook of your neck.

If you weren’t so tired, you could’ve sworn the two of you fell asleep cuddling. You could’ve even said that Draco actually enjoyed it.

———————————————————

You’re awoken the next morning by a chorus of playful oos and awes. Not remembering much from that night, you open your eyes and look around groggily, eyes opening wider when you see the Slytherin boys all around you.

“What the hell?” You ask tiredly.

“Didn’t realize we had a new pair of Slytherin lovebirds.” Blaise says with a smirk. You look to the space next to you where his eyes are rested and let out a shriek, waking the peacefully sleeping boy next to you.

“Morning sunshine.” Blaise says as Draco sits up with a tired scowl.

“Shut it Zabini.” He mutters, running a hand through his whitish blond locks.

As you begin to wake up more, the memories of late in the night come back to you and you glance over at Draco, mortified.

You’d never meant to tell anyone about your nightmares. The only people who knew were your roommates and they only knew that you had them, they knew nothing about how bad they were.

Once Draco ushers them away in annoyance, he comes back over to his spot in the room, looking over at you.

“Sorry about them, I forgot to bloody warn you. Then again, I planned to help you leave before those blasted idiots woke up.” He says, walking over to his wardrobe and pulling out his robes.

“No problem.” You mutter, staring down at the blankets in embarrassment.

“I won’t tell anyone you know.” He says, making you shift your gaze over to him. “About your nightmares I mean. I get them too sometimes, no one really knows. Now we’re even.” He says, almost rambling a bit.

You stared, stunned by what he was saying. Draco never seemed to be flustered. He was always calm and collected. This was the first you were seeing of his nerves and it felt strange.

“Thanks.” You say, standing back up with your arms crossed over your chest self consciously.

“Right. Are you alright then? Good to go I assume?” He asks, his usual cold demeanour back in place.

“Y-Yeah. Fine.” You say, puzzled by his shift.

You make your way towards the door, glancing back over at him nervously.

“Oh and y/l/n?” He says, making you spin around quickly to face him. To your surprise, he’s right in front of you again.

You raise an eyebrow in question, almost too afraid of what might come out of your mouth if you spoke.

“Maybe we could do that again sometime. Without the nightmares.” He says with a playful grin.

You blush a bit, smiling involuntarily.

“You flirting with me Malfoy?” You ask teasingly.

“So what if I am?” He counters challengingly, moving even closer.

You smirk, opening the door. “We’ll just see about that offer then. Maybe I’ll take you up on it.” You say with a wide grin to match his own.

You leave the room, walking past many confused Slytherin boys and wondering to yourself how much else there is to Draco that you didn’t know about before.

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slygirl666 · 4 years

Text

Minor details

this was a request with the prompt of slytherin!reader x Fred with the whole robe switching situation where Slytherin reader shows up acedently shows up wearing gryffidor robes after a night with Fred and her friends question her. I accidentally replied privately to her I apologize.

So I mention In warning it does have a touch of slut shaming I do want to make it clear I personally don’t agree with putting another girl down due to thier sexual history and I hope you don’t either

warnings: language, mentions of sex, bulling specifically gets a bit slut shamish, unedited

words:1,236

* * *

“Y/N?”

Fred Weasley, of course, the two of you went through this pattern of winding each other up just to end up between the sheets hours later. Usually on weekends though, you had a strict no school day policy. Between his quidditch practice and your constant need to please your teachers, it just made sense. You weren’t dating but neither of you were seeing other people.

“Yes Weasley?” you put on the face you gave him when your friends are around. the other Slytherin girl with you glared at him with a scoff. “Andy, it’s fine.”

“Well i was taking a stroll by the black lake and wanted to know if you’d fancy a swim?”

“And why would I wan-” you screamed as you were thrown over his shoulders. You hit his back hard. As he ran from where you were walking with your friends to the Lakeshore. When you hit the cold water you weren’t surprised but fairly angry.

You heard Andy yelling curses as you surfaced from the water, Fred was joined by George and both were laughing.

It was cold and the white button down, now soaked did nothing to hide the black bra you were sorting today. You watch Fred stop almost instantly when you surfaced, his face morphed into something else, something darker. It was lust you’ve seen him make the exact same face almost every weekend.

Andy came to you bringing you your discarded robes and your bag as she glared at the twins, you turned to Fred mouthing ‘Library,’ earning you a signature Fred Weasley smirk.

An hour later, you were being pulled through a secret passageway through the library. Clumsily making out with Fred, walking towards the halfway that the two of you knew hosted the room of requirement.

* * *

Waking up with no clothes on wrapped around Fred Weasley was nothing new, what’s new is that you realized it was wednesday morning, reaching for your watch it was eight thirty am. Breakfast was just about to finish up.

“Shit,” you attempted to wiggle out of Fred’s strong grasp. But he just groaned and held on tighter. “Weasley! Wake up!”

Classes were about to begin, you wiggled until his grasp let up, jumping around to find your clothes. You felt kind of disgusting wearing the same clothes, your skin smelling like sweat and the cinnamon cologne Fred favored. You found your stockings ripped.

“Well that's great.” you sighed picking up the first robe you found closest to your stuff before running out.

You ran into potions.

“Miss L/N, is there a reason you are late?” Snape glared at you, three minutes but you were usually so punctual.

“Yes sir, but unless you want the entire sixth year to know about my menstrual cycle i’d like to hont the details.” his eyes went wide as he continued to teach.

“Where the fuck were you last night?” Andy hissed, “don't you dare say the infirmary, I checked.”

“I’ll tell you later you moved to take notes,” feeling a sudden chill in the air you reached for your robe and moved to put it on, not taking your eyes off Snape.

There was a gasp next to you, you gave Andy a weird look, but when you moved to take notes you noticed the sleeves were over your hand.

Of course, just how lucky you are. You slid a note to Andy saying you’ll explain. When snape dismissed you Andy waited for you, impatient moving her braids.

“Okay so what the hell? I knew you were screwing someone but a Gryffondoor? Really Y/N?”

“Yes okay, sorry I didn't tell you but I knew how you would react and-”

“Who is it?”

“I'm not going to tell you,” you stated firmly.

So that was how Andy began her guessing game.

Herbology.

“Lee Jordan?”

“No.”

Outside of DADA.

“Did you go younger? Is it potter?”

“Absolutely not!”

You noticed Fred, who just ditched potions in his own robes looking rather smug as he overheard you two.

Muggle studies.

“Mclaggen?”

“No.”

And at lunch she rapidly fired a few names you didn't even recognize.

“Was it a weasley?”

“N-no!”

“That was way too defensive, witch one?” by this time a few other girls in your year had heard what happened and we’re completely invested.

“Was it Ron?”

“Ew stop suggesting fifteen year olds! I’m not telling you who I'm shagging!” you yelled at your friends. You now got the attention of everyone in the great hall. You ran out.

And then rumors began, some people were saying you had a thresome with the twins, others say you shagged everyone from Gryffindor that was above the age of fifteen.

You had asked to be excused from your classes after lunch staying in the hospital wing.

Fred had heard everything people were saying about you, his blood was boiling. Untrue rumors of people claiming they slept with you during weekends, and comments about your body that just made him sick.

He tried to find you, unsuccessfully. He even snuck into the slytherin dorms leaving a note under your pillow. Apologizing.

You were exhausted by the time you made it to your own room, not noticing the slip of parchment falling from under your pillow to your floor.

* * *

You avoided Andy at breakfast sitting towards the end of the table where the younger students usually sat. you heard the whispers and saw the disgusted looks. You had no appetite. You resisted the urge to cry, they couldn’t know you were bothered.

You went through potions and Herbology as peacefully as you could not getting involved in what people would say, Andy tried to talk to you but you couldn’t handle it.

You weaved through a busy hall weaving through students when you heard “Y/N! Y/N stop!”

Fred you stopped turning around. You cursed your inability to ignore the boy.

People were now watching carefully. “Well you forgot something yesterday.”

“Fred not-” he pulled out your neatly folded robes and handed them to you.

“You left in a bit of a hurry, love,” he smiled. “Didn't give me a kiss goodbye.”

Before you could question or yell at him he leaned down to your height for what you assumed would be a short kiss.

But instead he gave your audience a show, placing a hand in your hair before one when under your robe, no one could see but he did grab your bum. He took your response to deepen the kiss. You couldn't tell if it had been three seconds or minutes before the two of you split apart.

Students that weren’t in shock whistled and howled.

“Oi, you losers that's my girlfriend,” Fred puffed his chest pulling you into his side.

“Girlfriend? I don’t remember agreeing to that.” you smiled at him. “I mean if you insist I could think it over…”

“I just thought, i mean we’ve talked about it.” Fred fumbled with his words as you giggled, sure the boy had an ego but shy Fred made your heart flutter. “If you don’t want to I understand, bu I do like you more than a-”

“Fred, I'm joking,” you giggled, reaching your arms around his neck.

“You brat, you’ll pay for that later.” he whispered before letting go of you walking hand in hand to DADA.

What the two of you didn’t see was Andy reluctantly handing George four Gallions,

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter fan fiction #Harry Potter #hp fanfic #hp #weasley twins #weasley twins fanfic #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n

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villainsblog97 · 4 years

Text

Victon as your Boyfriend

(Hello my sunshines! It's currently 11:30 PM and I'm laying in bed thinking about the types of boyfriends our precious 7 boys would be, so of course I've gotta write about it!!!)

Scenario: Pure, fluff and sprinkles! 🥰

Seungsik

Our brave and fearless leader!

He's the mom of 6 boys! (Seungwoo included)

You're no exception!

Seungsik is always taking care of you

The full mom experience too

We're talking cooking with a pink flowery apron

Always telling you to be careful

He loves movie nights (idk why 🤷‍♀️)

He loves having a blanket over the two of you

You curled up in either his arms or on his lap

You are his baby (along with Subin)

I feel like he would tell you when your outfit is too short or revealing

"Don't you think that outfit is a bit.... short Jagiya?

Other times

"You're not going out like that!" 🤨

He doesn't like arguments

But he doesn't want people touching what belongs to him either

Would definitely be you DD or pick you up when you've been partying with your friends.

Lays you in bed

Sets a tray down with a cup of water and Tylenol next to the bed.

Hangover soup the next morning!

Seungwoo

Seungwoo is that all around perfect boyfriend!

He's always hyping you up.

New outfit?

"OH MY GOD! HOW IS THIS MY BEAUTIFUL BABY!?!?!" 😱

Cooked something?

"YAAAAH! THIS IS DELICIOUS!!!"

He's always complimenting you

Even when you're in sweats, his hoodie and a messy bun.

Boys got hearts in his eyes

Speaking of hoodie...

He loves to see you swim in it!

Because he's so tall

He absolutely hates when you guys fight

He sometimes snaps under stress

Right after, he's pulling you into his arms and holding you

You're his rock

You keep him sane

But every now and then, you just let him break

He loves laying on your stomach or chest as you run your fingers in his hair

Vice versa 💯

Chan

Chan is a switch

Not the way you're thinking either 🙃

I mean he can be either really sweet and goofy

Or very serious and stern

Mostly its sweet and goofy

He loves seeing you smile

You are his pride and joy

But if you piss him off

He's gonna let you know

Like the others, he hates fighting with you

But what couple doesn't

You two usually need a couple hours away from each other

But after you both cooled off you Apologize

I get the feeling he loves back hugs (both giving and receiving)

He loves holding you in his arms

Anytime of the day

In the kitchen, outside, in bed after a long day

You'd be lying if you deny you love it too

I'm just gonna say it

This man loves 10000000X more when he's drunk

He already loves you to the moon and back

But he gets really touchy and clingy when he's drunk

"Baby... I love you so much"

Sejun

My boy! My dork! My favorite!

Y'all already know where this is going

Sejun is an absolute crackhead

So obviously you're gonna have one crackhead of a boyfriend

You literally can't take him ANYWHERE

You love being silly with him too

But sometimes

You feel like you're babysitting more than dating him

He doesn't know your real name anymore

Hes got so many pet names for you

Baby, princess, sweetheart, my love, cupcake, (tried to call you mochi then got really hungry)

Always taking you to restaurants

Because he loves food! (Sometimes you think more than you)

But then he would give that 😮 face and tell you no

He's also a big tease

Never fails to make you blush or get flustered

You're always using his full name to scold him

You two don't fight a lot, but if you do

Its probably because you ate his food

If it's something serious, he wants to work it out IMMEDIATELY

He's always gotta hold you in his sleep

You comfort him

Don't forget the voice that was given to him by God himself!

Hanse

Do Hanse is a whole package deal!

He's the E-Boy you didn't know you needed

He's the dork you didn't know you needed

He's the romantic you didn't know you needed

This man L-O-V-E-S you! 💕

Everything you do puts a smile on his face

He's a Slytherin (you know what that means)

Harry Potter marathons

IN COSTUME! (Wands, robes, plushies, butterbeer, the whole thing)

Fights with him rarely happen

Because he's a pretty understanding guy

They do happen though

You always hug him and apologize for your behavior, or vice versa.

(Gonna get a little PG-13)

Hanse can never kiss you without getting into a heated make out session

It always ends with the bedroom door getting locked (I'll leave the rest to your imagination)

He loves taking pictures of you

And loves being your model (who wouldn't wanna snap some pics of this beautiful human being)

You're a sucker for his tattoos and piercings (don't deny it!)

Byungchan

Byungchan is no doubt the sweetest boyfriend ever!

He loves everything you do

EVERYTHING

He points it out all the time

He loves being next to you

Rather its watching a movie

Cooking

Cleaning

Or just chilling in bed

Byungchan would be hella clingy

But not the annoying clingy

Just when he's touch starved of you

He loves cuddles

He'll pull you into his chest and hold you

He loves playing with your hair

And singing you to sleep

He'll stay beside you until you fall asleep or He'll fall asleep beside you

If you guys have a fight

It doesn't last long

Because he has things he needs to tell you

"Jagiya... can we just forget our fight and go get some Boba???"

You'd laugh and nod before running into his arms

He loves forehead kisses too

He feels like they'll protect you

He whines a lot when wanting your attention

Of course you can't resist him 😂

Subin

I feel like because Subin is the baby

He's a little more shy

Like the first couple of dates, he'd ask to hold your hand

He'd also ask you everytime if he could kiss you

He never wants to overstep his boundaries

He's kind of slow with everything

Like putting an arm around you when you're watching a movie

He likes to test the waters

Fights absolutely kill him

He always shows up in front of you

Puffy cheeks and red eyes

This sight hurts you and you just fall into his arms

He does get these little bursts of confidence and just goes in for a kiss every now and then.

Leaves you speechless, and he'll just stare at you until you ask for more.

His hyungs are always teasing you.

"Yah! You can't have him he's our baby!!"

You're the baby now too 🤭

He just loves you so much (you're his first love)

He doesn't want to mess anything up, and neither do you

#victon #Seungsik #seungwoo #chan #sejun #hanse #byungchan #subin #fluff #kpop scenarios

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dranza · 4 years

Text

Tarot

Draco x Reader

Word count: 2232

Draco bumps into you in the slytherin common room, late at night. You both find yourself opening up to each other. I just think its cute man.

Warnings: Parent struggles. If there is anymore please let me know!

Glancing at the clock on the wall I realise it's now half past twelve in the morning. I had officially spent over four hours painting my tarot cards, procrastinating from doing my homework is officially one of my skills. Sighing, I slide the card I was working on over to the edge of the table to dry. I then reach for a mint leaf from my pocket and slide it into my mouth, the taste takes me back to being a child and playing in the manor gardens with my Nanny. I'm clearing up my paints as I hear footsteps coming into the hall that leads to the slytherin common room. Scrambling, I hide the paints under the table and pretend to fall asleep over the charms book I was meant to be reading. Recently, Pansy had been taking her prefect duties a little too seriously and had busted me for being out of my dorm room too many times now. I could easily wind her up and make her leave me alone but tonight I just didn't have the energy to hear her rattle on about how ‘we aren't meant to hang in the common room outside of curfew times’. The thing is, I’ve always been a night owl and not wanting to wake up the other girls in my room, I've made a habit of coming down to the common room to have some alone time.

“Stop being so pathetic, I know you're not asleep y/n” Draco announces in a chuckle as he walks in front of the table I'm at.

“Oh, what do you want Draco?” I lift my head to look at the white haired boy towering over me.

“Don’t worry, I'm not here to kick you out.” He pulls at a stool with his foot and sits opposite me, picking an apple from the bowl on the side table “I was just coming to pick up a snack. What are you doing awake at this hour anyway?”

I lift a paintbrush from under the table in response. “I don't even know where to start on the charms essay so I thought I'd add to my collection instead.”

He places his elbows onto his knees and leans closer to the three cards I had set on the edge of the table. “These are pretty good, I didn't know you could paint.”

“I didnt realise I had to inform you of everything I do.”

Draco huffs contempt, tilting his head a little “fair enough.”

“What are you doing awake?” I ask as I lift my wand and clean my paint brushes.

“Just finished the reading for potions class” he takes a bite from his apple and lifts the middle card.

A confused giggle escapes my mouth and I tease “I didn't know Draco Malfoy actually cared about his grades.”

Under his breath (more to himself than to me) he whispers “my parents would probably kill me if I didn’t.” Switching to a smirk, he echoes my words back to me “Well, I didn’t realise I had to inform you of everything I do.” He places the card back onto the table and drags the subject back to me “anyway, everything you need for the charms paper is in the fourth and fifth chapter.”

“Ah, thankyou.” I open up the charms book to the suggested chapters and place in a book mark. I stretch out my legs and lean back onto the sofa behind me, sitting on the floor for so long has made my legs go dead. “So, do you want me to do a reading?”

Dracos body stiffens slightly, and he straightens his back. “I don't think so, it's not very accurate anyway is it?” His thin fingers pick at his loose black pajama bottoms for fluff that wasn't there.

He clearly was one of the people who thought divination wasn’t actual magic. Back at Durmstrang, divination was such a popular subject that I was shocked when I came to England and saw so many columns popping up in The Daily Prophet about it just being a hoax. “Oh, for goodness sake Draco, it is accurate if it's done correctly. One card wont hurt you. Also, accurate or not, at least I'll get some practice.” I offer an encouraging smile.

“Please... my father says it's purely based on chance and calculated guessing. I don't imagine you'll be very good if you've had Trelawney teaching you anyway, the woman is out of her mind.” he says in a huff, scrunching his nose in disgust.

“One card?” I lift my eyes to meet his and pout in an exaggerated way.

He cocks a brow and flashes a look at the cards “one.”

I sit up instantly, leaning to the chair that I dumped my bag on earlier that night and pull out a full tarot deck. I clear the table, shuffle the cards and spread them upside down in a row. “What do you want to know?”

“Errr,” he squeezes his eyes shut and sways his head trying to think of a question. “What do I need to focus more on right now?” he asks unsurely.

I smile softly at him, surprised that he actually asked a decent question. “Perfect, now just really concentrate on that question and pick the card you're most drawn to.” He seems to hesitate a bit so I add “Don't think too deeply about it, just go with your instinct.”

He lets out a loud breath as he bows over the table to be closer to the cards. With a single finger he slides a card out slightly from the deck and then sits back, looking down at me tentatively.

Sitting on my knees, I take the card he selected and flip it over.

“The magician? Really? What may this suggest y/n? Well, we're at school and maybe I need to focus on my magic skills.” he word vomits in such a patronizing manner I resist the urge to punch him.

“Will you just shut up Malfoy! Let me concentrate…”

He lets out a sharp nose exhale but obeys.

“I think it suggests you have an opportunity to right a wrong, it's something you've been putting off but you finally have all the tools you need to be able to make it happen.” I look away from the card to him but his gaze is locked to his hands now. “This has really been weighing down on you, hasn't it? You just need to focus and manifest on the outcome. Is it… is it to do with your father?”

“What?” he lifts his head in a sharp movement at my final question. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I told you this is all a load of rubbish. I'm heading back to bed.” He throws his half eaten apple into the bin. “As should you, we have potions first thing tomorrow and I doubt Snape will let you nap in class.”

“I’m sorry Draco…” I break, realising I had touched a nerve. “You don't have to answer me. Don't just… you don't have to leave.”

He runs his fingers through his messy white hair. “I just… well, I’d just rather not focus on that right now.”

Draco’s father (Lucius Malfoy) is meant to be having his final hearing, for conspiring with Voldemort, this weekend and whispers all about the Malfoy family have been wandering through every hall at Hogwarts. Last year Voldemort had tried to take over the wizarding world and Draco (much to his parents' alarm) had apparently joined Harry Potter in destroying the horcruxes. Still, everyone was questioning his intentions. He has been putting on a brave face but it's obvious he's been more reserved since the news broke out.

“That's ok.” I try a sympathising smile. “I get it, I’m not trying to pry.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the only one then.” he says with a sigh.

I look around to try and change the subject, “what's your favourite colour?” I blurt out. I sink inwardly, was this really the best I could come up with.

Draco smiles, raising a brow. “Black.” he states confidently.

“Ha, dytto.” I pick at the dry paint on my hands. “It reminds me of ink... and wolves... and outer space.”

“Yes, that. Also, you always look great when you wear black” Draco chuckles softly. “Well, I mean not you personally. Although… I'm sure you also do look great in black. But I mean generally, no one can ever… really go wrong if they’re dressed in black.” A blush creeps up his face as he stammers over his words.

A funny little giggle escapes me as I watch him, a similar pink tinting my face. “I know what you mean.” I nudge his arm slightly, noticing his all black pajamas. “I think there’s still a certain skill in pulling off a black outfit though.”

Draco picks up one of my paint pots and twists it in his hand, trying to look at anything but me, his blush deepening. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You know, I would have pinned you more as a bright pink kind of guy myself.” I kick myself for trying to be funny but it lifts his nervousness.

“Not quite.” His laugh is deep and sensual, sending a warm fuzziness through my body.

“Do you ever paint?” I ask, signally to the pot in his hand.

“No. I’ve never done any intricate stuff like this anyway.” he gestures to my cards. “These really are quite amazing.”

“Thankyou.” I try not to stare at his face as he studies my work, but the candle light bouncing off his eyelashes and his soft, bottom lip kind of tucking under his teeth is making it very difficult. “To be honest, I don’t really like them.”

“What? Why?” he shoots at me.

“It’s not very neat around here…” I point at the first card, I’d spent half an hour trying to get the shading right on the bricks of the tower earlier tonight. “And her hair just looks like a wig.” My finger grazes the back of Draco’s hand as I point to the Empress card.

“No it doesn't, plus no one else would notice these things you’re bothering about”

“My mother will.” Quietly correcting myself, I add “would.” I clear my throat lightly to continue “And she would definitely reveal a few more mistakes as well.” I take in a long breath and rub my eyes. “I know this sounds terrible but sometimes I think it's not so bad that she's gone.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I… I didn't know.” He stretches his arm across the table towards me but stops just before his hand touches. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I was never really close to her anyway.” I sadly shrug. I realise I’ve never told anyone else any of this. I'm clearly over-tired.

“And your father?”

“He died when I was 3, I don't remember him. It’s why I’ve had to move here after my mum passed, Uncle Filius is the only member of my family that would take me in.”

Draco questions in surprise “So it’s true. You are Professor Flitwick's niece?”

“The one and only.” I give him a side smile.

“Hmmh, well, I know this means nothing… but I don’t think it's all that terrible that you don't feel bad you mother is gone. Sometimes parents aren’t as perfect as they seem.” Draco clicks his fingers and continues, “As you probably know, I’m meant to be meeting my dad this weekend. I have no idea how to explain myself to him. The last time...” Draco stops abruptly at the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. Two 3rd year students walk in carrying a whole load of sweets whispering to each other in rapid conversation. Draco swiftly stands and informs them that they cannot be out of their dorms so late. They try to oppose but after a stern look from the tall, blonde-haired prefect they give in and return. He takes a second before turning back to me and saying “I think we both ought to go back to our beds as well, it has gotten quite late.”

I look up at him confused, “don't you want to finish what you were saying?”

He shakes his head while holding out a hand to me. “Maybe another time. I’m guessing this won't be the last time we bump into each other, here at this hour.”

I accept his tight grip and with a strong motion he lifts me from the ground. “No, I hope not anyway. This was nice.” I squeeze his hand gently before letting it go and picking up my things.

His hand combs through his thick hair as he smiles shyly “It was.” He waits as I pick up the last of my books and we walk out together. As we get to the end of the hallway he stops and looks down at me, “are you sure you don't need help taking that stuff up?” I shake my head and with that he yawns. “Well then… good night y/n.”

“Goodnight Draco.” I glance back as I’m walking up to my room and catch his eyes looking back at me. He instantly pulls his gaze away and for some reason I feel a little disappointed. Goodness me, was I really forming a crush on the Draco Malfoy?

Im writing a few different one shots that can be read on their own or in order for a full story. Here’s the masterlist!

#draco malfoy #Draco x reader #Imagine #Harry potter #Draco is so hot #Tom felton #Hogwarts #Slytherin #common room #dungeons #voldemort #lucius malfoy #cute draco #slow burn #filler #getting there #mine

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agent-ccarter · 4 years

Text

green | sirius black

request from anon - slytherin!reader and sirius have been dating for a while now, so she’s the only slytherin to come to the gryffindor common room party after their win against slytherin. of course, never being able to swallow her pride she stills shows up wearing her green tie (or anything slytherin) which a ~tipsy~ sirius would do anything to get her to change out of. they have a super playful and fluffy argument and she ends up wearing one of his gryffindor sweatshirts or something please!

pairing - sirius x gn slytherin!reader

warnings - alchohol, I think that's it??

****

You weren’t really sure what was a better reason to wear so many Slytherin clothing articles - to irritate Sirius, or to stop yourself freezing in the bitterly cold weather. You wore a shirt covered with a dark green jumper over the top, paired with your green school tie and even some green jewellery. Sure, this was a little over the top as you were a familiar face in the red common room, and everyone was well aware that you were Slytherin, but you had to show your pride even if your Quidditch team had been well and truly trounced.

“Y/N!” Lily embraced you quickly in a hug, “you’ve still got hope after that defeat?” She asked, gesturing at your jumper.

“It’s more so to piss of Sirius,” the pair of you giggled, moving towards the music on the other side of the portrait hole.

You didn’t have to look hard to find your boyfriend, who was holding James over his shoulders whilst swigging from a bottle of firewhiskey. James was anchoring himself with Sirius’ curls and you were sure that if either of them lost balance, Sirius would definitely end up bald.

“There she is!” James gasped dramatically, holding his hand on his forehead whilst pointing at you, “the green traitor!” Sirius laughed but quickly dropped the boy, quickly making his way through the small room to you.

“Congrats,” you said, accepting his hug even when he reeked of alcohol.

“Commiserations,” he replied, flashing a comically large pout, “though you’re still wearing an awful lot of green.” He pulled at the bottom of your jumper, grimacing slightly at the colour.

“Yep. Head to toe. Everything green.”

“Even socks?”

“Even socks.” You pulled lightly at the bottom of your wide jeans, exposing the lime green socks you wore.

“Where did you get those from?”

“You’d be surprised the lengths i’d go to to wind you up.”

You heard him mutter something under his breath before exposing a large, very drunken, toothy grin. He’d clearly said something that he found very amusing. He quickly moved closer to you, inhaling at the crook of your neck.

“Your jumper smells weird.”

You pulled away quickly, “What? No it doesn’t.” You quickly smelled the floral aroma of the top, and when you looked back at him he again wore his cheeky grin.

“You are shameless.”

“Ive got a red one just like that upstairs you could wear.”

“But why would I dirty that when mines completely fine?” You grinned at him, tormenting him as much as possible before giving in.

“Pleaseeee Y/N. Just wear it, ill-“ he thought intensely, “Buy you that book you wanted?”

“No.”

“Share this?” He waved the bottle of whiskey in your face.”

“You’d share that with me anyway.” He didn’t resist as you pulled the bottle and took a swig yourself.

“Chocolate?”

“Youll just steal Remus’!” He didn’t disagree and instead went back to pouting, “I guess you’ll just have to make do with green.” He couldn’t really say anything and grabbed back the drink before sauntering away, stopping every couple of steps to sway and send you another sad pout. It wasn’t long, however, till he was so drunk that he didn’t even notice you heading back to his room to switch the jumper.

James was the first one to notice, sending a whistle that caught Sirius’ attention.

“Well, look at you.” Sirius attempted to make you twirl, showing the bright red Gryffindor jumper in its full glory but, in his intoxicated state, he could barely stay upright and the two of you almost collapsed amongst the cheers from your friends.

“Don’t get too excited,” you murmured, earning a confused look, “I’ve still got the socks on.”

****

#sirius black #Sirius Black imagine #Sirius Black x reader #marauders era reader #marauders imagine #remus lupin #James potter #Harry Potter imagine

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farai727 · 3 years

Text

many fics I recommend

The Sparrow and the Songbird: Ben and Rey grew up as neighbors and reconnect after the death of Ben’s mother, Leia. Rey finds a box full of letters in the attic addressed to her from a teenage Ben. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22664929/chapters/54171439

Understood: Ben is a movie star that gets lost in Paris. It gets late and Ben grows tired, deciding to knock on Rey, a stranger’s, door for shelter. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864411/chapters/54647083

The Heartbreak Prince: Eurydice “Rey” Niima is a 7th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ben Solo is her new professor in defense against the dark arts. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796579/chapters/52011994

Pliable: Rey denies that she has any kinks. One day she lets the word “daddy” slip in an intimate moment with Ben. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15713403

Sugar Sweet on my Tongue: Ben and Rey attend their 10 year high school reunion. Has ABO troupes. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22310002

Fix Your Attitude: You’re an engineer stationed at Starkiller. You’re desperate for recognition in your career, but issues with your assignment end up making you the clean-up crew instead. Your annoyance with Kylo Ren lands you into some hot water. https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961706

Anonymous: Ben and Rey meet at their company’s Halloween party disguised as the Phantom of the Opera and Zorro. After one night with each other, they leave messages on a board on Rey’s floor in order to find the other. https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836352

Risking Thorns: You are taking skating lessons from Penny Moore. She takes you to get your skates sharpened at Altman’s, but little does she know that you have history with Phillip Altman. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683762

The Escort: Rey is an escort trying to pay for college. After Hux drunkenly tells Ben about his experience with the escorting service, he convinces Ben to let him pay for a service for him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267093/chapters/18939971

To Sin In Loving Virtue: Rey thinks god is punishing her for mistakes she made in college. She goes to confession at a church where she reignites with Father Ren. https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493737/chapters/48633089

Dear Fred: After the love of her life, Fred Weasley, passes away, Calla writes a series of letters to him to keep him up to date with what all has happened since he left. https://www.wattpad.com/story/52720248-dear-fred-

Always Been You: In a post-War Wizarding World still struggling to heal, the Ministry is trying to create alliances among all wizards, but turns out, the problems plaguing the magical community did not end with Voldemort. (reader x draco) https://archiveofourown.org/works/19728673/chapters/46692061

Golden Boy: The world is recovering from the destruction of the Second Wizarding War, and life seems to be going to normal for the witches and wizards of Great Britain. While she and her friends begin to step into adulthood after Hogwarts, Camellia Larke seems to be caught in schoolgirl crush on her friends' brother, Fred Weasley. https://www.wattpad.com/story/267458604?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=kylomalf0y&wp_originator=ZgPE%2BfYmfGtUm9RSUJf%2BKDFIfVQGRwObIzFkK6K3SHggm9kPMEZ%2FRiKK3uZ3E0QNF10Sirpmc8jZgCgvGvWJcliS5%2BpiPL6cRSbW5eW7tWVLOktI7H8Hf9NIkpRE5VI9

Switching Sides: Vermilion "Millie" Barrett goes into her sixth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry in a stable, happy relationship with Fred Weasley. Everything is fine until Fred starts acting weird and suddenly breaks up with her. She's completely heartbroken until a certain "intolerable" Hufflepuff comes up with a plan to make Fred jealous and win him back, but what happens when they start spending more time together than intended? Where will Millie's feelings take her? Will Fred ever go back to Millie? https://www.wattpad.com/story/249744059?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=kylomalf0y&wp_originator=BQn5wfsSmxrNcnfJrgzEul7uDnc3Ha5Cg0rQVURx8MEirY0%2BvkH7nF4A3kk5v5Bv%2Fp9L7AAl8lj4Vd5zo5FF9IdW2dCErhNkKb5XNtcY%2BeIgvtTOFs3MFHZ%2FMtYzILMx

Stuck Without You: Oakley Adams is a pureblood Slytherin at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry . Her family and another powerful pureblood family, the Nelson's, have their son, William Nelson, and her's lives set for them. Things are average and well in her world until she meets a certain Hufflepuff her 6th year and everything is flipped upside down. She's conflicted between her family and her happiness. Will she live up to her Slytherin identity and stay loyal to her family and status, or will she risk losing everything for the one thing she truly wants? https://www.wattpad.com/story/244135938?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=kylomalf0y&wp_originator=ABGrRtTC3%2FJ0%2F1Yvgn%2FeaQcJNuknUMPcgA5%2BHf2Wx3RBs6nk4pbcyHXWPvgjEBb7PTQJw8bBW2mfaU1wol4L%2BOkcVS%2F%2FZ1scV3oJWAdQsCiLLNslC%2FMrHF3LiIS6XTRD

Sex Pollen: the relationship between yourself and your lab partner, Peter Parker, changes when your father brings a so called “hands off” experiment into the lab for testing https://www.wattpad.com/story/194674167?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=kylomalf0y&wp_originator=Zdx3g%2B4Y30qqEYTwu5crBDjau11ujhtwfiLNhodxJBJSK02XoA1jhSVPb5OzqCsVBNIs6mzDM1RAgdSuxxLmOFs7DU9oG8JvG0PRWp46WHt4kyy7LiIr35lziuQBgkpT

Touch Starved: You suffer from major panic disorder. People with the disorder live in fear of having a panic attack. Due to this, the only way she can 'survive' is by feeding off of sexual activity in order to keep her somewhat grounded. Her time limit is every three days or 72 hours. Without the help of sexual activity, she can experience some major panic attacks. Thankfully she has a handsome neighbor named Peter Parker. https://www.wattpad.com/story/207153566?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=library&wp_uname=kylomalf0y&wp_originator=nfXH00IQOPvQmZturEthqepUOl0H25GGb3TGMu9JForBumtirzWah6NE10qD7u7oVFaMFIN8DH0tfNQQS7X4D%2B3%2BtuA%2FkGr1qqNKuLl%2BltwGPNM%2FHZ%2B1Y5H%2BwKGxhbQV

Lurk: After the sudden death of the First Order's CEO, Snoke, a new face takes over the weapons manufacturing company. Like a son to Snoke, the overseas general manager who is known for his riches, strong personality, and sharp tongue, Kylo Ren, is given the position to take over. For his first meeting as the newly titled CEO, Kylo Ren's eyes are caught on one of the First Order's presidents- you. https://www.wattpad.com/story/147114569?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=kylomalf0y&wp_originator=h2m5gM4E9S0akNqWe2wqNdokAUtZ%2B3Y%2F2pQObAv1zPLwvaUrSCbnvXRXOKcRlJrcI3HiclY2BUj3wjiCSb9QWEAeeglyrPer1w6u2AzxdAq1yho3mqgJ07QqaQxTwfmt

Soulmate: The voice you hear your thoughts in is your soulmate's but you don't know who they are until you hear them speak for the first time. What happens when your soulmate turns out to be the infamous Kylo Ren? https://www.wattpad.com/story/63053879?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=kylomalf0y&wp_originator=46tDpgsKMFbxM6aS45vok5ZQcEZdEfa27lPvvdCd6pcf57WZexJagYVRZggVHpVJIgoU3aNIVneIpHKPkitfzO3ukELum%2BD8fnBhO7V7aQXEQP43%2BCZQkP82XIexzkIZ

Get on Your Knees and Pray to Me: When the Goddess of Sex dies, Odin is desperately searching for someone to fit her role. Apparently, Loki is extremely interested. After becoming the God of Sex, Loki hears you praying to him about how you want to lose your virginity. He's curious about you and decides he'd like to your answer your prayers in a bit more personal manner. Loki comes to you, ravishes you, and when neither of you can resist the temptations of one another, you quickly enter into an intimate deal full of pleasure, lust, and your complete submission. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22942099/chapters/62934427#workskin

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mariamermaid · 4 years

Text

The Heir of Silberstein; das verzauberte Schulleben (ch.2)

“the enchanted School life”

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: As a new school year approaches in Hogwarts, the students are surprised when Dumbledore introduces a group of German siblings joining the school. The royal family of fortress Silberstein is now sent to Hogwarts to learn the matters of a normal teenager life. …

Words: 3.1k

Masterlist

“Potion´s class will be the death of me!” Hermione exclaimed loudly as you came back from the first day filled with lessons. Professor Snape had very clearly explained, that the class would neither be easy nor a place for mischief. You patted her shoulder, a look of sympathy on your face.

“You´ll clearly going to ace every class”, she then sighed and you starred at her with confusion.

Yes, you had known most of the subject matter the teachers announced for the school year.

You had also required 10 points for Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan had tried to ask you out, as well as a student from Slytherin and you had given Draco a harsh comeback, which landed a following applause by several students. However, many classmates still seemed a little intimidated by your presence. You were able to disarm the teacher in defense against the dark arts, which was impressing and they had starred at you with bewildered expressions. All in all; a pretty good first day. Almost perfect. Almost.

“I don´t know, but you can find me in the library”, Hermione added and grabbed a few of her books and notes.

“I think I´ll catch some fresh air or explore the school a little more”, you replied.

“The Gryffindor quidditch team has try out´s today and some practice, you should watch them! You´ve never even seen a game!”

You followed Hermione´s advice and made your way to the Quidditch pitch. Together with the history and traditions of Hogwarts, you had obviously learned about the sport as well. Yet, you were taken back by the sight of the pitch. The oval form measured five hundred feet long and a hundred and eighty feet wide, with a small central circle in diameter. At each end there were three hooped Goalposts of different heights. The pitch was surrounded by wooden towers with the house colors, seats for spectators. You found your place in the Gryffindor tower, next to a blonde girl with long hair and round, pink and blue colored glasses. She looked up when you sat down, eyes curiously inspecting you and then offered you a polite smile. “You´re the princess.”

You nodded slowly. “I´m Luna Lovegood, you´re here to watch the team, aren´t you?”

You agreed again and noticed her dreamy tone and her soft nature. “So am I, but watch out for the nargles.”

With anticipation you watched as the players flew across the pitch through the air. Harry and Ginny, captains as you found out, had an open position. You watched as several contestants gave their best in showing their skills. Fred and George, both playing as beaters, didn´t pay much attention to them however. Instead, they trained on their own and played back and forth. You admired their athletic spirit and skill, but realized that you wouldn´t be a Quidditch player. The brutality and the hectic timeframe was thrilling to watch, but nothing you wanted to participate in.

After the practice, you left the tower together with Luna.

“What are nargle?”

“They´re small creatures, mischievous thieves really, you have to be careful.”

A smile spread on your lips; you found a liking in the rather odd Luna Lovegood. From afar you watched how the Slytherin team, who´s time to practice had now come, approach. After them, contestants who wanted to try out for their team. August was one of them. You said goodbye to Luna and joined your brother in watching how the team held their meeting.

“You´re trying out?” It wasn´t a question, the broomstick in his hand said enough. “I thought you didn´t even want to talk to them.” August huffed and rolled his eyes. He knew well what you were doing, lurkinh him into resistance and talking.

“If we have to go to school here, I can at least enjoy a little activity, oder nicht?”

A chuckle escaped your lips and softly you bumped against his shoulder. “I´m messing with you.”

“Hast du mit Ruth geredet?“ (Have you talked to Ruth?) It surprised you, that he was the first one to start the topic, but you shook your head ever so slightly.

“Sie werden es herausfinden, früher oder später.“, you replied instead. (They will find out eventually.)

You knew the fact, that even August worried, was enough to let you quiver. You avoided eye contact as did he, both staring ahead, avoiding to even glance at each other.

“Es wird sein soziales Todesurteil, die Schüler sind ja schon mit uns als Prinzen und Prinzessinnen überfordert. Ein König? Das ist zu viel für sie.” (It´s going to be his social death sentence. The students are already overwhelmed with us as princes and princesses. A king? It´s too much for them.)

“Noch ist er nicht König, außerdem sind es ein paar Monate bis Hendrik achtzehn wird. Vater ist noch am Leben,” (He´s not king yet, anyways there a couple of months left before Hendrik turns eighteen. Father is still alive.) You answered and a bitter taste spread in your mouth as the words left your lips. Your voice fell flat and monotone and you bit your lip.

“Ja noch ist er es, aber für wie lange?“ (Yes, he still is, but for how long?)

August added just as uninflected, before joining the Quidditch team and leaving you standing alone. You knew he wasn´t wrong, but saying those words out loud always sounded harsher than expected. For a couple more seconds, you watched your younger brother before he took off on his broom.

Fred and George Weasley came to your side, you caught a glance of their red hair before they even arrived. They sensed your inner turmoil and decided to try to take off your mind.

“Impressed, princess?” You huffed, shaking your head. Previos worries left your face and you gladly accepted the switch of topic.

“I´ll wait until your first game of the year, then we can see how much you can actually impress me.” The twins shrugged while nodding, it was a fair proposal to them.

The three of you, followed by Harry and Ginny made your way back to the castle, while casually chatting. “How was your first day? Classes are going fine by what I heard?” Fred asked you curiously. You raised your eyebrow at him. “What exactly did you hear?”

George, walking to you left, snickered. “Oh, just the typical rumors when it comes to your royal family.” “And that would be?”

“Courageously smart and intelligent”, George started

“Eagerness to dress and impress”, Fred continued, while his eyes glided your body down and up. His brother well noted, how Fred blushed as the words left his mouth. For now, he wouldn´t mention it though.

“And being able to enchant everybody in their presence”, George added instead and threw his hand dramatically into the air.

“Be careful, Y/n, they´re always up to something”; Ginny exclaimed from the back before she and Harry passed the three of you. You laughed. “I can tell, but thanks for the warning!”

You found yourself in the backyard, due to the late summerly warmth, many students still remained outside. The twins took off their Quidditch uniform, leaving them both in tank tops. The summer had done good to them and they had both gained muscle; especially in their arms. A seat beneath a tree at the side was perfect to watch the entire scene and soon after, the two Weasley´s joined you again. They awaited, but you continued to simple watch. A fairly dull activity, at a first glance.

“It´s seems boring, but there is always something going on, isn´t it?” Fred asked, his head tilting your way. You nodded agreeing. “It´s new, at least to me.”

Hendrik entered the yard with another Ravenclaw. “Ah, Cedric Diggory, prefect of the Ravenclaws”, George explained. Cedric as well as Hendrik´s eyes found yours. Cedric offered a polite smile, which you returned. But Hendrik´s were asking. Asking for anything out of the ordinary, you shook your head. The twins seemed to notice, how the two of you reacted to each other. “You and your brother get each other, don´t you?”

“We´re a family, we hold together, no matter how hard things seem”, you sighed but shook your head, pushing away the reluctant feeling.

“Hendrik is brilliant, he created his first spell at 14 years, his currently writing his first book as well. He´s the smart one, the oldest and always looking out for us.” You paused, eyeing Hendrik from across the yard. His dark hair was sleek back as always, his sharp jawline and his stern eyes. He had a mature charisma and you were sure, that many female students would swoon over his presence.

“It´s not like he had a choice, he´s the oldest, first to the throne. From his birth on, all the pressure laid on his shoulders.”

“Sounds hard.”

“There are days where it´s harder than on others.” You glanced back, through the stone arch´s to the Quidditch pitch. From afar you could make out little green figures racing through the air, among them August.

“August is the rebel of the family, stubborn and cunning. He knows what he wants and he knows how to get it. He´s selective when it comes to being loyal, family comes always first.”

Your eyes, as well as the Twins’, continued to wander to Ruth, her locks framing her round face and a smile spread on her rosy lips. She was seated on a blanket in the green grass, laughing as a pair of second-class students showed her a new game with cards.

“Ruth, is the sweetest angel. She´s kind to all people and animals. She´s the one keeping us together, when all ties tear. She´s the one who grew up the most protected. Hendrik and me, were trained the hardest. She doesn´t know, how it feels to have all eyes on yourself, luckily. She´s able to be just a child in a way Hendrik never could.”

Fred and George starred at you, waiting. The school life of Hogwarts was new to you, but for them everything about the royal activity was unaccustomed. “What about you?”

You chuckled nervously. “Me?”

“I´m the daring one, the one who questions right and wrong. The wild spirit of the family, at least it´s what I´m told.” “A truly magical family, isn´t it?” George smiled warmly. Maybe the Silberstein siblings weren´t so different from the Weasley´s after all.

“And all of you were trained?”, Fred then questioned further. They were intrigued by you.

“To be what exact?” George added and you smirked. “Our subjects varied from the ones at Hogwarts; Mondays started with history, for both muggles and wizards. Then in the afternoon, riding lessons and nature studies.”

“Riding? Broomsticks?”, George asked confused.

“Oh no, Silberstein has its name from their traditional breeding of Pegasus´.”

“Pegasus? As in horse with wings?” You nodded proudly, remembering Hagrid´s admiring stare at your arrival with the carriage. “The German word silber is English for silver, as in the silver horse skin and mane. The stables are the argentum turris, Latin for silver towers. It´s where they live and the only way to enter them, is by flying to them.”

A short pause formed, while you remembered the silky fur and the liberating and enchanting feeling, when flying through the clouds on their backs. Clearing your throat, you proceeded.

“Then on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturday mornings, martial arts. Everything from hand to hand combat, sword fighting, archery and of course, defense with the wands. Each of us is trained for battles with all scenarios, not only magical.”

Saturday mornings, were amazingly special to the four of you, because your trainer and teachers often awoke you with a new battle idea in mind. You wore focused on working together as a unit, not working on your individual techniques.

“And then of course more basic subjects, Potions and Herbology, astrology, the formal etiquette for royal descendants.”

“For Merlin´s Sake, you´re unbelievable”, Fred breathed and his brother nodded hefty.

“It might be normal for you, but to us?” George continued. “Unbelievable.” They both finished the sentence. A blush crept on your cheeks. Before Hogwarts, you had never given it much thought, but especially after arriving, you began to realize how special your life had been. Against many obstacles and challenges, you were grateful for the opportunity’s others would never have. It was hard and no one would ever argue with it, but you would choose this life over any other every day. Grateful.

It was this exact moment, where you decided that Silberstein was going to be a school. A good and fair school, that you would fight for.

A few weeks passed in the mean-time. You had actually begun to write down notes about potential strategies about teaching and a curriculum. Hendrik noticed how you began brewing your ideas, but he knew you would come to him, if you were ready to discuss them.

“Miss Silberstein, Professor Dumbledore has requested a meeting with you and your siblings”, McGonagal held you back after finishing her lesson. Hermione, a few steps ahead of you, waited worriedly. You nodded and followed McGonagal out of the classroom.

It was Friday, prior to the second Quidditch Game of the season. The week before, Gryffindor against Hufflepuff started with a strong game. The Weasley twins used their chance to show off the abilities, successfully. Hendrik, actually started playing as a seeker for Ravenclaw, while August was positioned as a chaser for Slytherin. As so often when it came to your brothers, they battled in agony about almost everything. August loved it to contest and Hendrik loved it to prove somebody wrong. A bad combination really.

“Go ahead, ´Mione”, you shrugged to your friend. “I got something to get done.”

McGonagal led you to Dumbledore´s office through the entrance of the gargoyle statue. She gave you a last nod of reassurance, before leaving you alone. Hendrik, August and even Ruth awaited you in the headmaster’s office. Worries rose in you and immediately, you searched Hendrik´s eyes for signs. He shrugged. None of you knew why you were called in today.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk; hands crossed on the table. The room was filled with shelves, books, potions and other artifacts. You were sure, that if given enough time, you would find out many interesting things. But sadly, the office laid unable for you to enter at your own sweet will.

“Please sit, make yourself comfortable.”

As much as he tried to sound calm, it didn´t convince you. You braced yourself for the worst.

“A letter from your father´s consultant, Albrecht came to me.”

You saw Hendrik´s hands cramping and his jaw tensing. Ruth, who sat next to you, lurked up to you, but you didn´t have the strength to look back.

“He and your father enquired about your process in learning, as well in finding yourself in the school life.”

Hendrik relaxed and you could finally give Ruth a small smile. “He also requested me to give the four of you a separate letter, which I will give you in just a second.”

Dumbledore leaned back, making eye contact with each of you before continuing.

“I know that even though your stay at Hogwarts is unusual, it is even more concerning as to why this stay had to be so sudden. Like everybody else, you have my full sympathy about your father´s health condition But I want you to know, that if you need anything else, you can always come to me. I´m sure that being a royal descendant is hard enough on it´s own and I can openly admit, I´m fairly new to many aspects. But I know a lot about schools and teaching, this”, he pulled out a book from his desk. You eagerly reached forward to take it first.

“Its a very rare volume about Hogwarts throughout the history. I´m sure you will treasure it, as well as I did in my first years as a teacher.”

Thanking, you nodded at Dumbledore. The book was in raveled in a dark blue fur like coat and the font was golden. Then he handed over the letter, which Hendrik took.

You had barely left the office, before he ripped it open and the four of you gathered closely around. His voice was quiet, but a clear flutter was heard.

“Dear beloved princes and princesses.

I hate to pass the message, that your father´s condition is not improving. The healers watch him with every second, but there have been no results yet.

I´m continuing to follow your father´s instruction to represent him and the royalty of Silberstein, as a Consultant and for the time being, leader.

I hope your stay at Hogwarts is as pleasant as the time allows.

Sincerely, Albrecht.”

A bitter taste spread in your mouth, when Hendrik read the letter out loud.

“We shouldn´t trust him”, August pressed out between his pursed lips. Hendrik rolled his eyes at him, a little too dramatic and hasty for your taste.

“Don´t be stupid, he has been a consultant for longer than any of us lived.” Hendrik used his ´adult´-voice and there were times, where his mature exterior worked, but for August, it was another reason to tense his jaw. He didn´t like to be treated as a child. Neither did you.

“So, you agree with him on the throne?”

Hendrik fell silent, his eyes leaving your group and his hand brushing his hair back.

Albrecht was never particularly fond of you, which was mostly mutual. In his eyes, not only you but also August and Ruth were nothing, but naïve children. He tolerated you, because he didn´t have an option. Hendrik was the only one to be out of sorts with him, which didn´t equal in actually liking him. You were sure that Albrecht didn´t like children in general. He was strict, obsolete bound to the idea of a royal regime, that represented a strong sway. Admitting that Silberstein was the most logic solution to the school problem in Germany, wasn´t comprehensible to him.

Whether he liked it, or not, ALbrecht was compelled to the crown. But as long as he was in your father´s seat, he was in the position to not only to issue orders, but change any established decisions.

From the moment it was announced, that you would leave for Hogwarts, August noted it more than once; He hated the idea of leaving behind your father, as well as the realm and the fortress. Both Hendrik and you, had brushed his sorrows away.

August scoffed angrily, after Hendrik´s attempt to placate him and he left the group with quick steps. Hendrik did as well, making his way to the Ravenclaw tower. From outside he seemed calmer than his younger brother, but he was livid as well. A breeze of wind meandered through the hallway; a storm was coming.

And deep down, you were left with an unpleasant gut instinct about Albrecht.

----------

tags: @ britishspidey @ perfectlysane24 @ acoolnight

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #harry potter imagine #mariamermaidimagine

39 notes · View notes

maandags · 4 years

Text

sweetest kind of poison (Fred Weasley x reader)

*rises from the ashes of the denial that i’d never write hp fic*

-- -- --

Summary: Fred is failing Potions, and McGonagall has decided he needs a tutor.

Word count: 9.1K

Genre: fluff w a lilbitta angst

Notes: CW: blood - masterlist - i love ONE man and ONE MAN ONLY

-- -- --

Fred Weasley is frowning as he walks up to McGonagall's office, because usually when he gets called to McGonagall's office it isn't for biscuits and tea and a friendly little chat. And besides that, he thinks he has a pretty good idea of why he's called there today.

He knocks on the door and waits until the professor's voice tells him to come in. When he does, his frown deepens, because McGonagall is accompanied by who might just be his least favourite person in the school.

"Professor, Professor," he says, giving McGonagall a tight little smile and Snape a controlled glare.

"Sit down, Mr Weasley," McGonagall tells him, gesturing to the empty chair sat in front of her desk. Fred takes his seat and puts his hands in his lap, for once keeping his mouth shut and waiting.

McGonagall wastes no time with unnecessary pleasantries, in true McGonagall fashion. "Professor Snape informed me of some concerning news, Mr Weasley."

"Did he now?" The comment earns him a glare from both teachers, though McGonagall's is more of a warning and Snape's is more of an I'd-kill-you-if-I-had-the-chance glare.

"I'm afraid there's no way around it: you're failing Potions, Mr Weasley."

Fred nods with a blank stare. "Yes."

"You're uninterested in the subject," McGonagall continues. "On top of that, you are disruptive and have caused more than one critical situation. Your marks have simply hit rock bottom."

"Yes, I'm aware. Was that all?"

"Quiet," Snape cuts in. "Detention doesn't seem to suffice anymore. You don't show up to half the classes and when you do find it appropriate to attend I can barely continue my lesson. But, in case you didn't know, Mr Weasley, Potions is a required class for almost all further educations, including the seventh year of Hogwarts." He pauses. "Which means that I, sadly, can't expel you from my class until next year."

But Snape's little speech has left Fred impatient. He turns back to McGonagall, rolling his hand like So what?

"You're getting a tutor," she says. "Saturday mornings, from nine o'clock to lunchtime."

Fred's face falls. "But Professor, I have Quidditch practice–"

"I know that. You are suspended from the Gryffindor Quidditch team until you get your marks up to a steady level and we no longer have to worry about you failing this class. That is to say, at least a month."

At that, Fred's stomach drops. "Professor. You can't be serious."

"I am dead serious, Mr Weasley. You know I wouldn't take you off the team unless I saw no other choice."

Gritting his teeth, Fred says, "But the Tournament–"

"Your education is more important than Quidditch, boy. And until you show me that you can be responsible for once, you're prohibited from entering the pitch."

Behind her, Fred can tell that Snape is trying to stop himself from grinning. He wants to stand up and scream: he's sure Snape had something to do with this. Absolutely sure. But all right. Okay. He keeps a calm expression–or as calm as possible–and nods. "So, do I just pick someone to tutor me?"

McGonagall folds her hands in front of her. "Professor Snape and I already chose someone for you. They should be here any moment now."

Fred barely has time to consider the dangers of having Snape pick his tutor. All he manages to think before a soft knock on the door rings through the room is, Oh, that can't be good. McGonagall says Come in, the door opens, and inside the office steps... A Slytherin.

Your eyes flick from McGonagall's face to Snape's, no doubt seeking the reason as to why you were summoned to the office of the Head of Gryffindor. Fred bites back a sigh and sinks lower into his chair, putting on his most impressive scowl. You don't seem to have noticed him yet.

"Good evening, Y/N," McGonagall says sternly. You nod in return, then nod to Snape as well, and in return–Fred almost thinks he hallucinates it–Snape gives you a smile. A tight-lipped, slimy smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and the curl of his lips could just as well hide a snarl. "I expect Professor Snape must have informed you as to why you're here?"

"Um," you say slowly, only now seeming to realise Fred's presence as your eyes settle on his and narrow in cautious surprise, "not really. I received a note with a time and place, that was all."

McGonagall scowls, and for a second Fred thinks she might turn and scold Snape, but she doesn't. Only purses her lips in disdain and says, "Well, I'll do it for him, then. Could you remind me what mark you received for your O.W.L. in Potions?"

Your eyebrows raise, if only slightly. "An O, Professor."

"Y/N excels in my class, Minerva," Snape cuts in. "They might just be the best student I've had in years." Fred wants to gag.

McGonagall levels her cold gaze at him. "Yes, I trusted you to choose a fine student, Severus. Y/N, this is Fred Weasley," she adds, gesturing vaguely to Fred sitting at her desk. Recognition flashes then in your eyes. "And he's in need of a Potions tutor."

It's silent for a moment before you say, "Right. And I suppose I'm that tutor?"

"Indeed you are. Saturday mornings, nine o'clock till twelve until further notice. Do those hours pose any problem for you?"

"I suppose not."

"Fantastic. The Potions classroom and the supply closet will be entirely at your disposal, and you will receive extra credit for this, of course."

"Thank you, Professor."

And Fred can't help but cut in. "Professor, really. With all due respect–" very little in Snape's case– "I don't want to keep Y/N off their busy schedule. I can just ask someone from my class to help. You know, like Janice–Janice is good at Potions too!–or even Hermione–"

"Miss Granger isn't in your year, Mr Weasley, I won't have her take time out of her day to master new recipes for the sole purpose of teaching them to you. And Miss Hanstead has Divination on Saturday mornings."

"Then I can find someone else–"

"Y/N will tutor you, Mr Weasley–"

"Professor?" your voice chimes in. McGonagall snaps her mouth shut and gives you a stiff nod, permitting you to speak. "If he doesn't want me to tutor him, that's okay. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who passed my O.W.L. in Potions. I know a boy in Ravenclaw who I study with sometimes–"

"You'll do it," says Snape quietly, and immediately you purse your lips and look away.

"The two of you sound like children throwing a tantrum," McGonagall sniffs. "Mr Weasley, do try to attend these sessions. Remember that you won't be permitted back onto the Quidditch team until I say so." Fred resists the urge to roll his eyes. "And don't even try to switch places with your brother," she adds sharply, and Fred sighs, hard. "Professor Snape will personally question you for ten minutes after each Potions class you attend–and you will attend."

At this point, Fred is starting to feel like he's being scolded by his mother, but he nods. He shoots a look over to where you're stood, next to the door, your hands awkwardly bunched in your robes. You shoot him a look back, eyes flashing, lips pursed into a thin line, daring him to push his luck any further and protest again. But Fred knows he's teetering dangerously on the edge of an abyss (an abyss in the form of an additional three straight months of detention with both teachers), and he has a feeling that he can't afford to step another inch out of line lest he topples down and into it.

So he nods again. "Fine," he says for emphasis.

McGonagall smiles. "Good. Saturday mornings. Run along, now. Enjoy your evenings." And she plucks her quill up from its stand and pulls a stack of scrolls onto her desk. Within seconds her attention is completely on the work in front of her, and Fred takes that as his cue to leave.

He passes you as he slips out of the doorway. He casts you a glare, which you return with gusto, arms folded across your chest. Snape sails over to McGonagall's desk and mumbles something too quiet for Fred to hear, and frankly he doesn't even care what they might be talking about. His evening–his whole month–has been ruined, just like that. With a few words, McGonagall managed to make Fred's blood boil with anger.

And for what? Potions class? He could have handled Potions on his own. Granted, he knew he was setting himself up for failure by only turning up when he felt like it and wreaking havoc when he did, but also–it's Potions. It's following a recipe and chucking some shit into a cauldron and hoping it doesn't explode.

The Fat Lady sees him coming and straightens up, face breaking into a smile. But when she spots the pure, unfiltered rage painted across his face, her eyes widen and she mutters, "Oh, dear."

"Fire salamander," Fred growls.

The Fat Lady hesitates for a moment. Fred glares at her with all the force he can muster, and she swings open her portrait, all the while muttering things like, "...not good... usually such a nice lad..."

The first one to spot him climb through the opening is his friend Lee Jordan, who gives him a cheery wave, but Fred pretends not to notice as he stomps right up to the boy's dorms and slams his door shut behind him.

A moment later, the doorknob turns and George's head peeks through the opening. His brows are knotted in worry. "Uh... you alright, mate?"

Fred mumbles something indiscernible, debating whether it's worth it to set his bedsheets on fire.

After a moment's hesitation, George slips into the room and closes the door behind him, plopping down on his own bed. "What'd McGonagall want?"

Fred sniffs, poking his pillow with his wand. Where he touches the fabric, it starts to smolder dangerously. "She took me off the bleeding team."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I'll bet my every last Knut Snape suggested it."

"Snape?" George is starting to look more confused by the second. "What does Snape have to do with this?"

"Apparently," Fred sighs dramatically, "my marks in Potions are so bloody awful that I need a tutor. And those sessions just happen to collide with Quidditch practice."

Now George is starting get angry too. "She can't just do that." But he knows just as well as Fred does that she can absolutely do that.

"On top of that, my tutor's a bloody annoying know-it-all Slytherin," he finishes, letting himself fall back onto his mattress, tapping his wand on his stomach. "This day just can't get any worse."

"Did you ask to be tutored by someone else?"

"Yeah. Got shut down immediately."

"Pricks." George curses under his breath, and Fred knows he's just as upset about the turn of events as he is. "Will you be able to do the tournament, at least?"

Fred shrugs. He doesn't really want to think about the negative of the two situations. "I guess that depends on how much I up my grades, eh?"

The both of them are silent for a while. Fred still burns little holes in his curtains, his pillow, his sheets, only vaguely realising that he'll regret it later. George is chewing on the inside of his cheek, sat on his own mattress. Then he groans and drops his head into his hands, and Fred casts him an alarmed look.

"Mate," he says. He parts his fingers so that Fred can see his eyes: they're filled with a mix of pity and anticipation. "Oliver is going to gut you."

– – –

The first tutoring lesson approaches quicker than Fred would have liked–but then again, Fred would have liked the sessions to never happen at all. He gets chewed out by Oliver Wood, as was expected, and his fellow teammates Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet refused to talk to him for the rest of the day when he made his announcement, which Fred found quite unfair. Harry just seemed to pity him, which was almost worse.

He's scowling at breakfast, poking at his eggs and bacon a little more viciously than necessary. It's barely eight o'clock. He still has some time before he's supposed to meet you in the dungeons. The mere thought makes his skin crawl: the dungeons. Where everything just reeks of Snape and his Slytherins. George is ignoring his foul mood as well, and it's probably for the best.

"So," says Ron, trying to keep a straight face (his smug smirk is still somewhat showing. Fred kind of wants to punch his little brother in the face). "First tutoring session this morning, eh?"

"That's right." Fred narrows his eyes at him. "I think I'll ask Y/N if we can brew something like Veritaserum. Or Death Potion. Or Draught of the living Death. Something I can use on you if you keep sticking your nose in my business."

"Every single one of those potions you just named is illegal," Hermione chimes in. "And even Y/N can't be that stupid."

Fred chuckles. "You'll see. Two weeks in and McGonagall's gonna realise that these sessions are useless, because I know my potions. I'm gonna be back on the team in no time." He'll show them.

And he's got a little something in mind for you, specifically.

After breakfast, he rummages around in his trunk for a while, muttering a string of curses under his breath before he finds the little box he was looking for. He stuffs it in the pockets of his robes, grabs his bag and descends towards the dungeons, throwing George a wink and a mouthed "I'll tell you later" as he hops through the Fat Lady's portrait.

He strikes up a conversation with some portraits here and there (he's on first-name terms with most of them) as he makes his way down the many stairs of Hogwarts, popping through some of the secret passages and shortcuts when he sees fit. And he's strangely excited to get to the classroom, which is a feeling he never thought he would ever associate with Potions in any way.

Then again, it isn't really the tutoring session he's excited for. No, the grin on his face and the tingling sensation in his chest has nothing to do with the fact that he's about to brew a potion he's probably brewed a million times before, and everything to do with the little box hidden in his robes.

It's the same tingling he feels every time he's about to pull a massive prank he isn't even sure he'll get away with, but you don't know that.

You're standing in front of the classroom door, reading a thin and old-looking booklet with one hand, the other one balled to a fist and pressed against your lips, eyebrows knotted and eyes narrowed in utmost concentration. Fred almost stumbles–it's something he hadn't expected to see when he rounded the corner. Though, now that he thinks about it, he doesn't really know what he'd expected; some weird and evil blood ritual perhaps.

When you spot him, you clap your booklet closed and give him a stiff nod. He can just make out the title as he draws closer: Poisons, Venoms & their Magickal Uses. Isn't that cute.

"You're early," he drawls.

"I'm on time. You're late," you point out finely.

Fred shakes his head. "Time is relative. Some famous muggle scientist said that, I think. So, naturally, it must be true."

"Let's just get this over with."

You seem to know your way around the Potions classroom, is the first thing Fred notices. You glide around and between the tables with ease. Like a bat. Like an evil sorcerer.

Plopping a cauldron on a desk and lighting a small fire beneath it, you turn around and cross your arms, levelling your gaze at him. "So. We're gonna start with something simple. I'll let you do everything and watch, and when you're done I'll tell you what you've done wrong."

"That sounds like a rotten teaching method."

"Just take out your book, Weasley."

He does so, making sure to slam it onto the desk as hard as possible. "Well, Professor L/N, what are we brewing today?"

"You're making Pepperup," you say. "Page fifty-three."

Fred frowns. "I did that in class two years ago."

"Page fifty-three, Weasley."

"Merlin, you sound so much like Snape," he groans, flicking the book open to page fifty-three. "This is insulting."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"This is such a simple potion. I don't have any problems with making them–"

"Then why are you here?"

"Because," he says, slamming his hands down on the desk and leaning forward, "your Head of House is a bloody git." Without one more word he spins on his heel and makes his way towards the supply closet, book in hand as he swiftly selects the ingredients.

"You can make multiple trips, you know," you say dryly when he sails back, his arms loaded with little bottles.

Fred narrows his eyes. "If you could shut up whilst I work, that'd be great."

So he sets to work, quickly cutting and grinding ingredients to a fine powder, only stopping every once in a while to quickly read the protocol's next few steps. The liquid in his cauldron starts to smoke softly, and you follow the smoke with your eyes, looking somewhat unimpressed. Fred bites his tongue to not lash out.

What was McGonagall thinking, putting a Slytherin and a Gryffindor in the same room for multiple hours a week? She must have known it could only end in disaster; the two students flying at each other's throats. The tension in the room is palpable. He's sure you can feel it too: your shoulders are drawn up and taut, like you're ready to attack or defend, depending on who makes the first move.

He watches your every movement out of the corner of his eye, ready for when you'll inevitably pull out your wand and try to hex him. But you only sit back and sigh, then fold your arms, then unfold them again. When you reach forward he tenses, but you only grab a leaf of peppermint and crush it in the palm of your hand. The pleasant, spicy smell wafts through the dungeons. Fred catches himself inhaling deeply.

"Eyes on the cauldron," you tell him, and his gaze snaps forward–he's just in time to fish out some colourless leaf-skeletons before they dissolve.

After quickly going over the entire recipe one last time to check if he didn't accidentally skip any steps, he puts down his stirring spoon and steps away from the cauldron. "Well?"

You peek into the swirling liquid, arms crossed over your chest. "It looks a little dark," you say finally. A little grudgingly. Fred internally gives himself a little pat on the back. "But it needs to simmer for a bit before we'll really be able to tell, anyway."

Yeah, yeah. Make yourself feel better, or whatever.

"In the meantime," you add, gesturing to Fred's workspace, "you can tell me what the hell's going on here."

Fred's eyes flick down. His cutting board is stained red, messily cut leaves and roots and fly's wings litter every inch of the desk surface around it. Lids are still screwed off jars, some of them even screwed on the wrong jars–there's potion splattering all around his cauldron and some–damn it–on his robes.

He puts on his most intimidating scowl. "Looks fine to me."

You don't seem fazed. "It's a mess. You're lucky I only got you to work with harmless ingredients. Had this potion been even a tad bit more complicated–had you needed to work with Acromantula venom or Scorpionfish stingers or Belladonna extract or something you could have seriously hurt yourself." You're glaring at him now, and Fred's a little taken aback by it.

"Well, thanks for the concern, but even I am not stupid enough to just leave poison or deadly stingers lying around," he assures you.

You briefly close your eyes and mutter something that sounds suspiciously like Someone hex me. Fred has to resist the urge to volunteer. "Clean it up," is all you say in the end before spinning around, marching to a shelf on the other side of the room, pulling out a heavy book and cracking it open on your knee.

"Clean it up," Fred repeats mockingly, mumbling a string of rather creative insults under his breath as he sweeps the floor and scrubs the table. The stains don't go away with water and soap, so he mutters a deep-clean spell and watches them disappear in the blink of an eye. When he's done, he quickly casts you a look, but you're still absorbed in your reading, and he isn't going to be the one to announce he's finished cleaning. He's not twelve.

So he plops back down on his stool, drops his chin in his hands and gazes out into the void, every once in a while casting a glance at the bubbling potion next to him. How long was that thing supposed to simmer for, anyway?

It's silent, and Fred isn't used to silence. He doesn't like it, but he guesses it's better than having you chirp your annoying comments in his ear every five seconds.

He's so worked up that he almost forgets about the little box he's been carrying with him since this morning.

He immediately perks up. "Y/N."

After a few moments, you look up from your book. "Yeah?"

Fred sails over to where you're sat, trying not to grin too much. "I just wanted to apologise for how I've been acting. Real immature, you know."

Something like suspicion sparks in your eyes, but it almost instantly dies down again. Your expression softens a fraction. "Ah. Well, thanks. Apology accepted."

"Right, but–I brought you something anyway." He takes out the box with a flourish and offers it to you. "A peace offering, if you will."

Slowly, you accept it, then pull off the lid gently as if you're expecting it to be a venomous snake or something. When you register the box's contents, you give a little sigh. "Sweets."

"I hope you like nougat."

"Well, thanks. That's nice of you." You seem to hesitate for only a second before selecting a small block of nougat and popping it in your mouth. "Let's take a look at that potion then, eh?"

Fred's almost skipping as you return to his cauldron. You stare pensively into the brew, but your eyes are unfocused. You give your head a little shake. "Um..."

Fred innocently clears his throat. "Yes?"

Then the first dribble of blood drips from your nose. And out of the other nostril. Your eyes widen and your hand comes up to brush the blood away, and Fred is giggling internally.

"Uh," he says dryly, "you're bleeding."

You shoot him a furious look, pinching your nose to prevent the blood from flowing. "Potion's too thick," you snap. "And way too dark. Useless. Probably poison." And at once, Fred's scowl is back.

But then blood starts to seep from your ears as well and you groan in pain, and that's when Fred realises he may have made a mistake.

Your face starts to go red. Tears well up in your eyes and you stumble, having to let go of your nose to grab hold of the tabletop so you don't fall. Blood gushes from your nose and into your mouth and you cough. Fred's heart skips a beat. That wasn't supposed to happen.

He reaches out, tries to grab hold of your arms, but you bat him away with surprising force. "Don't touch me," you choke out. And Fred can't even blame you.

You stumble from table to table as you try to make your way to the classroom door. Your hands leave bloody prints wherever they touch any surface, and a trail of blood follows you out of the classroom. Fred watches you go, alone in a classroom that looks like a Muggle crime scene.

"You did what?" George hisses, eyes wide and face pale, when Fred tells him about the prank-gone-wrong. His hair is windswept and his robes are dirty from Quidditch practice, and a sharp pang of longing bursts in Fred's chest.

"They weren't supposed to do that!" he hisses back, restlessly prodding at his food. You didn't show up at lunch today. He spent his whole lunch shooting nervous looks at the Slytherin tables, hoping to see you sit there amongst your classmates, but your usual bench stays empty. At one point, he meets the gaze of a boy he recognises as being one of your friends. The Slytherin guy holds up his middle finger, but not in a particularly vicious way–more a 'this is what we're supposed to be like' way.

"Those were prototypes, Fred. Prototypes. You had no right–"

Fred cuts him off with a warning look, then discreetly nods in Ron's direction, whose ears go red and who quickly turns around to Harry and Hermione's conversation about the Charms homework they'd been given.

"You had no right," George continues, voice lower this time, "to feed those sweets to someone–to someone who didn't even know what they were." He seems genuinely upset. "We don't harm people, Freddie. Not when they don't deserve it."

"How do you know Y/N didn't deserve it?" Fred mumbles, although he knows his brother is right.

George scoffs. "From what you've told me, Y/N didn't seem to have asked for this either. They take time out of their day to tutor you in a subject you're failing and the first thing you do is poison them?"

Fred winces: George is right. Of course he's right.

"Look, mate. I get that you're pissed off about this whole tutoring situation, I really do. But don't take it out on Y/N."

"You keep talking as if Y/N's completely innocent," Fred mutters. "Sounds like you're picking them over me."

George looks like he wants to kick him. "You're not serious. Fred. You cannot actually be serious–"

"Y/N's a Slytherin! How do you know they hadn't something similar planned for me, eh? I simply took matters into my own hands."

"By poisoning them?"

"You make it sound like they're dying. They're probably fine."

"You told me there was blood gushing from their nose and ears–"

"Yeah, but they also got to the hospital wing on their own. Besides, we tested those prototypes on ourselves too. They're not lethal."

"They work differently on everyone," George groans. "I thought we'd said we wouldn't use them on anyone until we were sure of the formula."

Fred folds his arms, casting yet another glance at the Slytherin table. You're still absent. "I won't do it again."

"You better not. I'm not covering for you if McGonagall finds out," George tells him before standing up. "Moron." He snatches up his gloves and walks over to the Great Hall entrance, where Angelina and Katie are waiting for him. Only Katie gives Fred a small wave.

Fred lowers his head into his hands and lets out a long, agonising sigh.

He's been jittery all morning, and he thought he could relieve his nerves by pranking you. But that prank went sideways, didn't it? You're probably in the hospital wing at this very moment, plotting your revenge.

There's another thing Fred doesn't understand. Surely, your friends went to look for you when you didn't show up for lunch, or they already knew what had happened to you. And surely, the first thing you would have told them was that it was Fred who was responsible. He didn't have a great reputation amongst Slytherins in the first place, so he had no doubt that as soon as they found out he'd gone after one of their own they would retaliate tenfold.

But nothing's happened yet, and it's making Fred nervous.

He'd caught a few Slytherin's eyes when he was having lunch. And sure, they all glared at him or made some obscene gesture, but that wasn't any different from usual. Malfoy was talking animatedly with his cronies on one end of the table, and the older students sat huddled together on the other. But none of them seemed particularly worried, or angry. Which Fred still finds eerie and strange.

Even as he stands up and walks out of the Great Hall–alone, a perfect target–nobody follows him. Nobody even so much as looks at him.

And so Fred can only really draw one conclusion: they don't know. They don't know that he was the one to poison you. Which in itself raises one big question: why wouldn't you have told them? It makes no sense.

He doesn't go back to the Gryffindor common room, instead veering off and out into the surrounding Castle grounds. Maybe he'll help Hagrid out for a while. He needs to clear his head.

As he hops down the steps two at a time, he can't help but cast a glance up in the direction of the hospital wing. He doesn't make out anything interesting or useful, of course; the windows are tiny and way too high up, but Fred wonders if you're alright anyway. He wonders if you're recovering well: the nougat may not have been lethal, but the effects certainly looked pretty nasty. He hopes the damage isn't permanent.

He just wanted to have fun. And even if you're a Slytherin, he grudgingly has to admit that this whole situation got way out of hand.

It's late and dark when Fred finally slips onto his seat at the Gryffindor table. Dinner's already in full swing, and McGonagall threw him a sharp look over pursed lips when he stalked through the Hall's entrance. He could almost hear her voice tell him You're late. Then, randomly, another voice joins the mix. I'm on time. You're late. He shakes his head with a frown, dispels the voices.

"Why are you wet?" Ron asks with his mouth full.

Fred shoots him an unimpressed look. "I was visiting the giant squid in her lake. We had tea and biscuits." He rolls his eyes. "It's raining outside, genius." He pulls out his wand and mutters a drying spell before reaching over Ron's plate. "Pass the potatoes."

"Why were you out so late?"

"Jeez, Ron, you sound like Mum. It's Saturday, can a bloke have some fun?" He knows he's being evasive, but in truth he went to see Hagrid for only a bit, then spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the school grounds, setting random fallen branches on fire and immediately extinguishing them. Just alone with his thoughts.

He quickly glances over to the Slytherin table: you're not there. He's pictured your face so often since this morning that he knows he would have spotted you at once if you were.

So you're still in the hospital wing. Still recovering from something that should have lasted barely two minutes. For the very first time, Fred's stomach twists with guilt.

– – –

Fred's socked feet are silent on the carpet as he gently swings open the Fat Lady's portrait, grimacing when the hinges creak. The noise seems to resonate around the hallway and he freezes, hoping the Fat Lady doesn't wake up: he knows he's in for a scolding when he comes back, but right now he prays silently that everyone stays asleep. They do, and he hops through the opening and quickly closes it.

He should have brought a jumper or something. The night air is freezing, and he finds himself rubbing up and down his arms as he makes his way to the hospital wing, ducking through as many secret passages as he can to avoid being caught by Filch: he really doesn't need more hours of detention on top of everything.

This isn't Fred's first late-night escapade, and the castle's layout is so familiar by now that he moves through the halls with a swiftness and speed that most students don't even have in the daytime. He glances out at the clear sky when he passes a window. The stars peek out and greet him in return.

The doors blocking the entrance to the hospital wing are enormous and heavy–and locked, so Fred pulls out his wand and taps the doorknob. "Alohomora." The lock clicks and he gently, carefully, presses down on the handle and opens the door–

As soon as he steps through, the tip of a wand presses against the side of his throat and Fred's eyes go wide as his fingers tighten around his own, and a wave of panic grips his chest–but then the wand is lowered, and a hoarse voice sighs and says, "It's you."

Fred whips around. You're standing behind him, hospital gown hanging limply around your frame. Goosebumps cover every inch of your exposed skin and your bare feet are planted firmly on the cold tiles. Now, you shove your wand back into your front pocket and cross your arms. "What are you doing here?"

And somehow, the first thing that comes out of Fred's mouth is, "You should be resting."

You scoff. "As if you care whether I'm resting. You're the reason I'm here in the first place, remember?" But you stalk back to your bed and drop onto the mattress, pulling the covers around your shoulders. Fred doesn't move, suddenly unsure of what to say. You glare at him. "If you're just here to stare at me, go away."

"No, no, I'm not," he says quickly. "That would be creepy."

You raise your eyebrows at him, as if to say, Well? Get on with it.

"I wanted to apologise."

You sniff, briefly touching a finger to your nose. "Like you wanted to apologise this morning?"

Fred winces. "No. I genuinely want to apologise this time." He clasps his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry for acting like a stupid git. And I'm sorry for poisoning you." Short but sweet.

You nod, lips pursed. "No gift this time?" you ask after a slightly uncomfortable pause.

"Uh..." he grins hesitantly. "Did you want a gift?"

"No. I'll never trust anything you give me ever again. But the gesture would have been appreciated." You softly punch your thigh, then look back up at him. "Thanks for apologising."

Fred allows himself a real grin this time. He drops down onto the far end of your bed. You still look at him with a weary sort of caution, and though it stings a bit he knows he deserves it. "I had a question."

Your fingers close around the handle of your wand and you start fiddling with it. It's a nervous habit Fred knows well. "Okay."

He nods. "Okay. Right. So." He presses the palms of his hands together, shoots you a careful look. "You're a Slytherin, yes?"

"That seems to be the case," you say dryly.

"Right. And, well, as you might know, there's been this rivalry going on between the Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses for ages."

You nod. "I'm aware."

Fred nods too, puckering his lips, wondering how best to phrase what he wants to say. "So, what I did to you–it would have been the perfect reason for a full-out war. Like, I know that if a Slytherin were to poison a Gryffindor I'd be the first one to retaliate in some way." Fred waits for a bit, but you're staring off into space and not answering, so he presses on. "I was alone all day and I didn't even see a single Slytherin. Why aren't they coming for me en masse?"

You're silent for a few moments. You refuse to meet Fred's eyes. "Because," you finally say, "as far as anyone but you and me are concerned, you didn't poison me. I poisoned myself."

Fred's eyebrows shoot up. "'Scuse me?"

"Yeah. I screwed up a potion and then, unknowingly, drank it."

A beat of silence passes. Fred's jaw drops. "They bought that?"

"They kept pressing on for a while, but I kept insisting, and, you know. Madam Pomfrey owes me because I brew, like, half of her basic medicine supply. So she doesn't ask too many questions. As long as I don't screw up any of her potions." You shrug. "It's fine."

Fred wants to grab your shoulders and shake you. "No–Y/N. It is absolutely not fine. Why would you do that?"

Again, you shrug, a little awkwardly. "Well. Like you said: Slytherin would never let such a personal attack go, and it just didn't seem worth it to me. Like, it would just get messy, and we would end up with nothing but more victims on both sides, and I don't want that." Your voice is tinged with bitterness. "The houses are divided enough as is."

Fred rubs the fabric of his night robes absent-mindedly. "That is..."

"Nice of me? It is. You better thank me for not signing your death sentence, Weasley."

"Alright, L/N, let's not get too ahead of ourselves," Fred says, but he's grinning again. "No, but really. I just always thought..."

"That because I'm a Slytherin I must be evil scum?"

For a moment, Fred is speechless. Just a moment. "Well–"

"Cunning, ambition, leadership and resourcefulness," you recite, eyes fiery. "Those are the traits that make me a Slytherin. Just because we have a loud little git like Malfoy in our house doesn't mean we're all like that."

"Right," Fred says, voice a little breathless. His heart skips a beat and he blinks in surprise. It's just–your eyes. Wow.

You've pulled your knees up to your chest, and you're looking out of the window right above your bare nightstand. "He has a big mouth, is all," you mutter. "A big mouth and the shittiest father in the history of fathers. I've tried to get him to come around, you know. But every time it looks like I'm making progress he'll get a letter from home and I'll be back to square one."

Fred frowns. "It's not up to you to educate ignorants like Malfoy."

You turn your eyes back on him. They glint fiercely, but there's also something like fatigue, brewing just beneath the surface. "Someone has to."

"Yeah, but it shouldn't be you," he insists.

With a sigh, you drop your chin in your hands, staring blankly at the wall. "I'm just tired of people assuming I'm like him just because we share a house."

"I don't think you're like Malfoy," Fred blurts before he can stop himself. "I mean–if it were Malfoy I'd poisoned on accident, I wouldn't feel bad about it for a second. Nor would I come check on them at two in the morning." As if on cue, you stifle a yawn.

"That's reassuring," you say dryly, but Fred notices the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

It's silent for a moment longer, then Fred remembers with a start that Hey, he should technically definitely not be here right now, and if he gets caught he will be in huge trouble. "You know what–Y/N–I'll be off. To, y'know. The tower."

You give him a smug smile, and Fred's heart does that weird somersault again. "Sounds like a great plan."

Fred spins on his heel–and at the last second whirls back around, because he just realised that he hadn't even asked the question he came here to ask in the first place. "Oh. Yes. One last thing."

"Yes?"

Fred bites his lip. "Are you okay? Like, physically? Does it still hurt?"

A giggle falls past your lips. Fred's fairly certain he's never heard a giggle quite so cute. "I'm fine. It kept bleeding for a while, so I have to take this–" you point to a red bottle on your nightstand Fred hadn't noticed before– "but Madam Pomfrey insisted I stay the night anyway. I barely feel anything anymore. I'm doing okay."

"Okay." Fred grins. "That's good. Yes." He makes a vague hand gesture. "So, I'll see you Saturday?"

You nod. "Saturday."

He's grinning the next day, and George shakes his head in confusion when his sole explanation for his good mood is a shrug. "You are so weird."

But the truth is that he's actually starting to look forward to the tutoring sessions he spends with you, now. The first few went a little stiffly, neither of you really able to incorporate every shocking thing that you'd told each other that night in the hospital wing into your daily lives. It still seemed a little surreal, like it all happened in a dream. So he isn't surprised when, the first few times you see each other after that, you're the tiniest bit apprehensive.

"You know," you tell him in the fourth session, "what hurts the most? It's that when people say Slytherin they could just as well mean evil. Or dark magic. Or–Death Eater, or something. We have to work extra hard to get recognised when we do something good."

Fred keeps quiet as he gently stirs his potion, counting the revolutions in his head. Seven clockwise, twelve counter-clockwise. Repeat five times.

"It's a little sad, I think. That the good is so easily overshadowed by the bad."

"I guess it's just–" Fred switches stirring hands– "we're so conditioned to think that Slytherin equals evil. Even our parents are guilty of it too: like, my entire family has been sorted into Gryffindor, you know. And I was so nervous that I wouldn't be. Like, getting sorted into Slytherin was eleven-year-old me's worst nightmare." He casts you an apologetic glance. "No offense."

"And I get where it comes from. You know, with You-Know-Who being a Slytherin and all... so I get it," you sniff. "But you know who else was a Slytherin? Merlin himself. And nobody talks about that."

Fred raises an eyebrow. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. A few weeks after the sorting ceremony, and I understood that not everyone was too keen on Slytherins, I basically locked myself into the library and spent an entire day researching famous Slytherins. It's surprising, really, that so much of our history has just been thrown away for the sake of one evil bloke. I could name ten individual evil Gryffindors or Ravenclaws. But I guess that compared to You-Know-Who, they're not as evil."

Fred ducks his head down to try and hide the grin that formed on his face when hearing you refer to You-Know-Who as 'one evil bloke'. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad you told me."

You smile. "If I can change your mind about Slytherins, I can change anyone's mind, right?"

Fred grins back. "I guess so."

You meet his eyes, and almost subconsciously Fred holds his breath. The tension in the room grows thicker, but this time it isn't bad tension, isn't hostile tension. His cheeks heat up. Should he say something? He wants to say something, be it only to dispel the strange heaviness in the air.

Then your eyes flick down to the cauldron and you pull a face, almost bounding forward and grabbing his hand, stilling it. "Alright, that's enough stirring I think. Stay concentrated, would you?" But you're close, and your hand is still holding his, and he can smell the lemony scent of your hair, and his head is swimming.

"Sorry," he says sheepishly. "Did I ruin it?"

"No, it's fine, I don't think it's unsalvageable." You shoo him away and pluck the stirring spoon from his hand, muttering something unintelligible under your breath as you peer down the brown potion. "I've made this potion a billion times for Madam Pomfrey, I've had to fix worse than this."

Watching you work is almost mesmerising. The precision and speed with which you cut the tiniest of roots or leaves, the confidence that radiates from every pore of your being as you firmly chuck the fresh ingredients into the swirling draught, or gently and precisely pour a strange white powder into the mix of which Fred didn't even know the existence–he suddenly feels like an idiot for ever making fun of you. You're in your element. This is what you should be doing for the rest of your life.

"What's the hardest potion you've ever made?"

You look up at him, then quickly look back down at your work. You bite your lower lip, hesitating. "Well," you begin, "I did–I made Felix Felicis, once. Took me ages to get all the ingredients together, and I actually had to smuggle some of them in because most of them aren't even allowed in Hogwarts. And then it took me, like, four tries to get it right, and I had to fireproof my bed and trunk, and I almost blew a hole in the wall. So I'd probably say that's the hardest potion I've ever made."

Fred slowly begins to grin. "Isn't Felix Felicis illegal to make?"

You flash him a crooked smile. Fred's heart skips a beat. "It's illegal for non-certified students to make. I was in fourth year at the time, and I lost a bet, so."

"Did you use it?"

"Nah. I kept a little bottle for myself, then gave the rest away."

Fred blinks. "Why would you give away liquid luck?"

You shrug, adding a minuscule amount of what looks like sugar to the potion. Immediately it sizzles and turns a lighter shade of brown, and you sigh in contentment. "Finally." With a flick of your wand, two big glass bottles appear on the desk in front of you, and another flick later the potion is safely stored inside. "I don't know," you finally answer, hands clasped in front of you. "I just figured there were people who needed it more than me. Also, had Malfoy or one of his cronies found out I was storing liquid luck in my trunk... I don't even want to think about the consequences."

"Right." Fred's still trying to process everything you've told him. "And you said you lost a bet?"

"Well, yeah."

"What the hell was the bet?"

Again you show that lopsided smile. "My friend said that he could get away with bribing Peeves to barge into the Potions classroom when we were all taking a test to the point where we'd have to take it again. I said he couldn't."

Fred remembers that day with a shock. He had been taking the same test, and high-fived Peeves when he finally barreled out of the classroom. Snape had announced that the test would have to be postponed, to the great joy of every student. "That was you?"

"Well, my friend. But yeah, in a sense, that was also me."

"Jeez. Remind me to never get on your bad side." He says it jokingly, but the truth is that his heart has completely lost its mind, and he knows there's really no hope for him now.

The days go by as all days go by–except Fred tries to see you as often as possible, even outside of tutoring. He reconciles with his friends and teammates, George eventually figures out that he's starting to genuinely like you (and maybe feel something more than that) and Fred has to threaten him not tell anyone. You offer to walk him to class one day, and he feels like he might die on the spot–so, you know, regular days.

It's a Thursday evening when he's having dinner and he can't spot you sitting at your table. Immediately worry seizes his chest, because the last time you missed a meal was because you were in the hospital wing. So he throws little inconspicuous glances towards your bench every now and then whilst trying to keep a conversation going with Angelina and George, even though he knows the latter has noticed something's wrong.

He nervously bounces his leg, mentally going over all the possible reasons why you wouldn't be here and all the possible places where you might be. He's so lost in thought that he doesn't realise someone's behind him until you put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He whirls around, voice a little high-pitched when he says, "Y/N! Hi." George is looking down at his plate and trying to keep a straight face. Fred kicks him underneath the table.

"Hey," you smile. "Uh–is this a bad time? You look pale."

"Oh, no, no." He tries to discreetly wipe the nervous sweat off his palms, cursing internally. You reduce him to a blubbering mess, and there's nothing he can do about it. "No, it's fine. What's up?"

"Okay," you nod slowly, not looking entirely convinced; Fred can't even blame you. It's the first time you catch him so off-guard. "Well, I just came by to say that Saturday's session is off."

Fred deflates. He shouldn't; he should be happy about it, but these sessions are pretty much the only time he can really talk to you without distractions. "Oh. Why?"

An excited (and slightly smug) grin lights up your face. "Well, you know–the Quidditch match? It's Gryffindor against Slytherin. I talked to McGonagall and–well–she agreed to let you play it."

The words take a moment to process. When they do, it's like Fred inflates again and the expression on his face must be nothing short of comical, because you burst into laughter at the sight of it. "Seriously?!"

"Yeah. I told her what a wonderful student you'd been. A real pleasure to tutor, and everything. She looked at your marks and then said okay, so... Here we are."

"Yeah. Uh, right. Thank you," he mutters. He must be the shade of a tomato by now, he thinks off-handedly. Oh, George will never let him live this down.

You shrug, as if to say, Ah, it's nothing. But it isn't nothing, and when you pad over to the Slytherin table on the other side of the Hall Fred watches you go, completely speechless, before throwing up his hands and letting out a loud whoop.

"Well," Angelina sniffs, inspecting her nails, "I guess they're not too bad. For a Slytherin."

Dinner passes in a flurry of sound and movement. Fellow students pat him on the back and congratulate him when they pass. Oliver Wood exhales a heavy sigh of relief and says, "Thank fuck for that." Harry gives him a big thumbs up. Ron merely rolls his eyes but mutters, with his mouth full, Good for you, so Fred can't really be mad at him

But really, Fred can't wait until dinner is over, because there are some things he wants to say to you still.

And then he spots you leaving your table and sailing out of the Great Hall. He casts a semi-apologetic look at his brother, who rolls his eyes and practically kicks him off his bench. "Go on then, moron. Go get 'em." Fred holds up his middle finger in return, but can't hide the huge grin tugging at his lips.

"Y/N! Wait up!" You stop and let him catch up to you, arms folded and an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Shouldn't you be zipping around on your broomstick by now?" you tease, picking up where you left off and making your way towards the library. Fred knows you're going to the library, because after dinner you almost always go to the library.

"Probably. I wanted to talk to you first. Properly thank you, and everything."

You laugh softly. "You don't have to."

"You want me to, though."

"Yeah, I do."

"Thank you."

You poke an elbow into his side. "You're welcome, Weasley."

Fred walks by your side, silent for a moment. "You're coming on Saturday, right?"

"Of course I am."

"Are you gonna be cheering for me?"

You make a pained tutting sound. "Sorry. House loyalty, you know."

"Can't you poison Malfoy so he can't play? That would really help us out."

"What is it with you and poisoning?" you laugh. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Besides, I don't think my house would be very happy with me if I did that. Even though he does deserve it."

"Come on. You know you want to."

"How would I even get close enough to administer it? How would I make sure he never knows it's me so he can't rat me out? Nah, I'd never get away with it."

"Not with that attitude. You could do it."

"Shut up," you groan, but your eyes are sparkling.

"I'm serious! Wanna bet?"

"Ha. You're not trapping me like that." You run your fingers along a windowsill, but your eyes are distant. Fred can tell there's something you want to say.

And then, very suddenly, "Einstein."

Fred blinks. "Excuse me?"

"You know, when you said 'Time is relative' and you said it was a muggle scientist who said it. Well, that muggle scientist's name was Einstein. He's actually pretty interesting–"

Fred can't help himself. He guesses it's a few months' worth of built-up tension that he can't bear anymore. The fluttering in his chest whenever he looks at you or hears your voice that he can't resist anymore. The little comment about Einstein that must have been playing over and over in your mind for weeks that you finally just let slip out and that is so completely you that he finally snaps.

Whatever it is, before he can properly consider himself he's cupped your chin with his hands and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes widen and you stiffen in surprise for just a split second before completely melting against him, your fingers running up his neck and into his hair and Fred thinks that he just might be going crazy.

It's green and red finally colliding; two enemies deciding that they can do better. Fred wonders in the back of his mind if he should thank Snape.

There's something giddy about the kiss, he'll think later. Something that screams, Finally. Something that tells him that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You're the first to pull away, breathing hard, pupils dilated. And then you press a hand against his chest with a grin, and Fred feels like he's going to explode.

"Your heart's pounding," you whisper, voice hoarse.

Fred winds his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, closer still, and kisses your smiling lips again.

"Does this mean you're going to cheer for me, Saturday?" he mutters against your lips, and you pull back with a giddy laugh.

"Watch it, Weasley." But you run your fingers through his hair and your eyes are filled with a softness that makes Fred weak in the knees.

He pulls away fully now, though every inch of his body longs to be near yours again. Lacing his fingers through yours, he nods towards the end of the corridor, behind which he knows is the library entrance. "C'mon. I'll walk you."

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