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annemagus · 3 years

Text

natural love potion; h.p.

Pairing: harry potter x fem!Gryffindor!reader Timeline: HBP / 6th year Warning(s): cussing, mentions of dying and blood, submission, reader pining Word Count: 5k

A/N: Hey there! This is my first ever post. I would love to hear your thoughts!

Harry and Y/N are friends. Just friends. Much like Harry and Hermione, there is nothing out of it that is going on between them. Not until that day in potions.

—

“Are you done with my potion?“

“You mean, will Professor Slughorn call you by your name? Then yes, Wallenby.“

It was the first week of another year at Hogwarts. New faces, new prefects and even new professors are introduced, as usual. Professor Slughorn is the newest addition to the faculty and to have a good first impression with the students, he's given the 6th years Amortentia, the love potion, as their first Potions homework.

They were supposed to put it in their selected food or drink and it had to be unnoticeable. Why would the Potions Teacher assign this kind of homework to the students? No one knows. But this certainly gave him a good first impression to a large number of students.

“Blimey Harry, we've been rotten at Potions ever since. Now look at you, it's as if you've taken private lessons with Snape the whole summer. You’re the bloody Potions Master in our year now!“

The two Gryffindors are making their way out of their dorm room towards the Common Room with Harry holding a small basket of cookies to bring it in the dungeons where the potions classroom is at. Y/N is patiently waiting for them near the Portrait as several students greet her along the way.

"G'morning."

“Where’s ‘Mione?“ Ron exclaimed without even acknowledging the girl’s presence.

“Uhm, shouldn't you know that, Mr Prefect?"

The male prefect then realized the time and his supposed agenda to escort first years to the Great Hall. Harry scolded him of how much he and others would kill to be in his position and yet he’s never given it any importance.

“Godric, have mercy on me. Hermione’s gonna kill me!” the redhead exclaimed after getting a playful slap behind his head from the Chosen One before rushing away from the two.

“Much worse than that, she’s gonna make him expelled,“ she jokes with a mouthful of cookie from the small basket Harry was holding. "Mhm, you have no idea how badly I've been craving cookies since last week! This is good, Har. Where’d ya buy it?“

Harry, before realizing what happens, freezes. He was too busy lecturing his best friend that he didn't notice a hand sneaking into his potion, the cookie. His hand slowly snakes its way to the contents of the basket that has supposedly four cookies but now has only three. “Y/N!“

"What?" she chuckles dreamily.

"We need to get you to the Hospital Wing."

“What for? You put poison in it, didn't you?“ Y/N continues to chuckle dreamily.

Harry stares at his friend as if she was some peculiar experiment. “How are you feeling, Y/N?“

“I feel like . . .“ she sighs dramatically as she gazes far away, mesmerized. The effects are plainly obvious. “I feel like falling.“

“Falling?“ Harry's stomach twisted. This is what makes Potions classes bothersome, the uncertainty of knowing whether the potion you brew is right or wrong. You can only know it if you’re a professional or by testing the potion done, which in Harry’s case, Y/N would do for him.

"I'm falling in love, Harry. I'm falling in love with you."

And boy was he really the Potions Master.

The raven-haired boy's cheeks got warm the second those words escaped his friend's lips. The two are only friends and have never acted more than that. Seeing this new side of Y/N for Harry is too foreign for him.

Sure, Harry has seen her date two boys from different houses, but being the recipient of her romantic antics has never crossed his path. His last romantical relationship, if you can call it that, was last year with the senior Ravenclaw Cho Chang. Even that didn't go well. He went on a single date with her just to make her believe he's in love with both Hermione and Y/N. Ever since then, he never thought about committing to any romantic relationship.

"Harry . . ." Y/N's hand reached out for his arm, grazing down slowly towards his hand with too much delicacy. Their hands are now intertwined. The both of them have never reached this close proximity, having learned now that one of his best friend's palms are soft but slightly calloused in the fingertips from playing muggle instruments and Harry fears that when Ron finds out about this act, he will tease them nonstop which isn't fair for Y/N. ". . . I know this may sound all too sudden, but, I have loved you ever since."

He didn't respond. He tries to block all of this sudden affection out of his mind knowing these are all artificial.

"Don't you love me back?"

"Of course I do. You're my best frie-"

If his cheeks were warm, now, his ears as well are on fire. Y/N has thrown herself to the flustered boy, locking his neck and face in her arms, squealing in happiness like a kid. Holding hands is a new thing for The Boy Who Lived but hugging him as if to let the world know he's someone's is another thing.

Very few people have ever hugged him in all the history of his 16 years of existence, knowing the story of his parents and the lack thereof. His godfather, Mrs Weasley and Hermione are the only ones — as far as he knows — written in a tiny piece of parchment of the list of people who have hugged him. Yet none of them could compare to this hug as those mentioned acted parental towards him.

Students are now starting to pass them out of the Common Room towards the Great Hall. One of those shouted, "get a room!" They're still standing just beside the Portrait Hole where Ron has left them both to deal with his own romance.

"Uhm, Y/N, why don't we go get ourselves some breakfast first, yes?"

"Yes! Let's tell 'Mione and Ron that we're finally together!"

—

Breakfast was agonizingly slow, to Harry's opinion. Y/N can't stop giggling beside him and feeding him like an infant earning them attention from the others.

"Oi, Potter! Didn't know that you two are . . ."" Seamus makes a kissing face earning a few cackles and sniggers from their other friends at the table.

The boy just ignored them with an eye roll, amusing the two friends in front of him.

"Leave them be, Harry. Besides, when was the time Y/N acted on you this way, huh?" They all diverted their gaze to the dazed girl. Eyebrows knitted in concentration as she feeds him but at the same time doing her best to get as close to Harry as the universe could possibly give her the opportunity to. They've never seen her this in love and affectionate. And the two thought that Harry just deserves it even just for a while. "Never, right? You better make it worthwhile."

"Thanks, Ron. Really helpful." He answered with his famous eye-roll.

"Always here for you, mate "

"I just don't get why we couldn't tell Professor Slughorn immediately. I mean, I'm sure he has something for Y/N. Or Madam Pomfrey-"

"Yeah? In which I'm sure is also your easiest ticket to detention."

The boy grunts some incoherent words of profanities under his breath. Not only was he getting embarrassed by the fact that one of his close friends is acting like his girlfriend but dragging Y/N along with his catastrophic life is just too unfair on her side. She didn't ask for this. Plus, detention in the second week of a new school year doesn't sound good.

The Brightest Witch reminded them not to take Potions lightly. It may sound like not the most helpful subject in a wizarding war, but can get you expelled once meddled with students. In short, what happened to Y/N is very illegal. You should not use or test your Potions project with another student. Plus, Filch will go nuts if he gets the news that a student gave another student a love potion.

“Well, at least, now we know that your Potion worked well.”

"Come on, we're going to be late for DADA."

On their way towards Snape's classroom — a fact Harry still can't accept — Y/N's fingers are interlaced with Harry's as they walk. She's given him her bag as that's what boyfriend and girlfriends do. In the classroom, Y/N didn't sit in her usual spot but literally kicked Ron out of his chair to sit beside Harry, the boy just mouths a sorry.

Her usual focus from the class was now inclined to Harry himself alone the whole class. Out of all their major subjects, Harry is known to have the Defence Against the Dark Arts class on top of it all. Y/N knows it, having been a member of Dumbledore's Army. Everybody knows it. But with Snape being the teacher and Y/N constantly caressing his left cheek every time Snape's back faces them, the said subject is somehow kicked out of its place on top.

"Y/N, do you mind?" He tried but obviously failed to ask her to stop in the nicest way he can utter. "I mean, it'll be really hard for us to pass DADA, and eventually NEWTs, if we're both distracted." His voice is hoarse and soft, one way or another. Afraid to hurt the girl beside him and cause a scene. Letting his former Potions Professor know his mischief doing is the least of his priorities for the day. Merlin, at least, let this day finish without anyone knowing.

"Harry, my love, it's not my fault your eyes are distracting. They're the most beautiful green not even the most beautiful forest in the world could compare to."

Once again, his cheeks and ears are on fire for the 37th time this morning. Most of the reasons are from the nonstop compliments he's receiving from the girl. It didn't take much energy from him to not believe all of it. He grew up with the Dursleys, they didn't fail to engrave in his mind his place and worth.

"Care to share in class what you're chattering about, Mr Potter?" The elder snarled in the middle of his discussion, letters extending out of his tongue as per usual. He finally notices, as always, Harry making another noise across the room.

"Nothing, Professor."

The said Professor narrowed his eyes to the duo. He knows, of course, he knows, he was a bloody Potions Professor ever since he accepted the job offered to him at Hogwarts.

"I'm saying this once and only once," he positioned himself in front of the two, now leaning to the Gryffindor boy to let just the two hear what he'll say. "Fix this, or you will face more vile punishment than getting expelled."

The class was dismissed with 50 points taken from Gryffindor. Harry is used to it, even his other fellow Gryffindors weren't surprised anymore. As a matter of fact, as long as he is breathing, infinite points will be deducted from their house.

As they were heading out of the classroom, Hermione gently peels the zonked out Y/N away from her grasp on the poor boy. "Harry, you can't let the other teachers know about this."

"Well, what do you suggest then?"

The next words that came out of her lips are like caffeine to the sleepy heads of Harry and Ron. They could not believe she could say such things. Even Y/N would have been gobsmacked if she just wasn't in a daze.

"Don't go to classes?" Her tone was laced with uncertainty. But she couldn't think of any other option, she'd rather let them take a day off classes than have Harry nor Y/N expelled.

"Can I come with them?"

—

Harry Potter's Monday was bizarrely different from his usual ones. He has spent the whole day with Y/N trailing behind him like a baby duck. His hand used to be sweaty the whole time with her's but now, it felt more comforting than awkward interlocked with his.

The castle was quiet, with all the students in class, it gave him privacy and away from the prying eyes of malicious gossipers. They couldn’t get inside the Common Room as some 7th years are hanging there knowing they have fewer classes and more time for reviewing for their NEWTs, library; some teachers roam around there, Hagrid’s Hut; knowing Hagrid, as much as they love the guy, couldn’t keep his mouth shut from secrets.

As much as he dreads going to class all the time, it was strange to see the castle this quiet without Ron’s company.

He was throwing pebbles by the lake to pass time as Y/N sat on the ground behind him, making them their Charms essay homework.

The boy studies her features. Y/N wasn’t so bad. Her hair’s tidier than Hermione’s. She was actually beautiful. He would’ve taken her to the Yule Ball when Ravenclaw Cho Chang declined his invitation and if it wasn’t for that Slytherin bloke asking her out instantly - her first ex-boyfriend who Y/N dated a few months back. Her hair tucked in her ear as she focuses on what to write next in her essay. Harry feels bad for making her write his homework but the girl insisted. Guess you’d do anything for the people you love.

He looks back on the lake. Thinking of the people who have loved him did everything they could to protect him, even dying. First, his parents, then Sirius even Jesus, what did he do to deserve this fate. What good will it be if the people he loves are gone?

Two arms wrapped around his chest from behind startled him.

“You’re tense.” Y/N’s hand unwrapped his bloodied hand. He didn’t even notice he was gripping the stone tightly, his scarlet blood staining the object.

“It’s nothing.“ He cranes his neck to stare at the girl on his right shoulder. Her eyes are full of concern and love. Love that he created out of a goddamn potion for a goddamn homework. A love that could never be compared to the love of his parents and Sirius. A goddamn false love. His brows knitted before jumping out of Y/N’s embrace with panic.

“I think we can go inside now.“

The rest of the day consists of Harry, trying to ignore all of Y/N’s pining over him. He tries to remember that all of these are not her fault, there’s nothing to get mad at her about. Running away from her is also impossible as she committed herself to cling to Harry’s arm as if her life depends on it.

Finally, classes are over and dinner is approaching. The two are reunited with Hermione and Ron in a secluded area of a random hallway, as Harry was hoping to get less attention from other students as they got earlier at breakfast.

“How are the love birds?“ Ron teases, seeing their hands locked still.

“Oh, it was majestic, Ron! Harry took me to the Black Lake even though today was a school day. I feel a little rebellious, to be honest.“

“Good hiding spot.“ Hermione commented.

“I’m not going to the Great Hall for dinner. So you two can bring Y/N instead.“

“No! I’m coming with you!“

“Y/N aren’t you tired of my company yet?“

“I could never! I love you.“

Ron snickered pretty loudly in front of them, even Hermione couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Aren't you two just adorable?” the redhead continues to tease.

“Don’t worry Harry, Ron and I will bring you supper instead.“

The day has finally ended and the effects of the Amortentia, as what the favourite book of Harry says, wears off after 24 hours. It was past Y/N’s get up time but fortunately for them, she took her time sleeping exactly until the effects wore off.

She moans with pain as she tries to sit up from her bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"'Mione?"

"It's me."

"I feel like a full construction site is inside my head . . . and I feel awful. Like, waking up on the wrong side of the wrong bed."

"Do you feel anything . . . unusual? Like, something or particularly someone you want to obsess about?"

The girl looks at her strangely and then at the time. "Bloody heck Hermione, aren't we late for breakfast?"

Clearly, Y/N remembers none from the incident.

Meanwhile, at the Great Hall, Harry is tapping his leg out of anxiousness. If his Amortentia was too strong and didn’t ease away, he might as well pack his belongings and leave Hogwarts voluntarily. His precious book from the Half-Blood Prince has mentioned the cure for a love potion but the ingredients are only held by the Potions Teacher. The horrors there will be once he mentions this to a teacher is unimaginable, he’d rather spend the day with a dazed Y/N than get lectures from a teacher.

“Don’t worry about your girlfriend, mate,“ Ron’s words are muffled from a chicken leg in between his teeth from across him. “They’re here.“

Across the Hall, the two girls are striding towards their place.

“Why are you at my seat?”

“Uhhh . . .” stammering, Ron glances at Harry for help. They were normally sitting beside each other but after the incident yesterday, they thought Y/N would love to sit next to the Golden Boy. “I-I don’t know either,“ just sliding to his side to make room for the two.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?“ Harry asks the dishevelled looking girl in front of him. Both Hermione and Ron - who are sitting side by side - are listening to the exchange intently.

“Honestly, I feel bad. Like, subconsciously, I know this day would be so bad,” Y/N sighs depressingly. “Why, are you alright?“

“Yeah,” deep inside the boy, a strong wave of relief passed him. His body was cold from the nerves, but knowing his Amortentia had finally worn off, those nerves were showered off of him with a warm relieving feeling. “Actually, I’ve never been better.”

“Well, at least one of us has woken up on the right side of the bed.“ she chuckles half-heartedly. Harry felt guilty hastily after hearing those words. It’s all your fault dipshit.

As Y/N is back to sitting beside Hermione, she is also back to her normal self. Talking to her alone about their Charms homework that she never remembers making and some other random stuff that the boys could not give a care about. She was back to not paying any attention to the Golden Boy at the front who she absentmindedly know is staring at her.

Morning supper was finished and the quartet is now in Snape’s classroom. Y/N was back to sitting beside the cute Hufflepuff guy she's been crushing on and Harry is back stuck with his blabbering best friend.

As Snape discusses some more non-verbal spells and the techniques, he takes time to stop rounding the class in front of Y/N who was again, back to her normal self, her focus never leaving the Teacher. He stares at her, looking past her eyes and seeing that his student’s consciousness is back before trudging towards Harry and Ron.

“10 points from Gryffindor,” he grunted under his breath, which actually is the first compliment Harry has ever received from the elder man.

Classes ended and dinner came, Harry finds himself staring at the girl in front of him. She was talking to Seamus, one of their good friends, chatting and laughing with him as if he'd said the funniest joke ever told. The food on his plate has long been forgotten.

"Quit staring, you creep."

Harry looks back at his best friend beside him with a mixture of confusion. "Don't tell me you think I wouldn't notice."

What the boy was talking about, he has no idea.

"When will you tell Y/N?" Again, he replied with a look. "About the incident, of course."

Harry wasn't planning on ending his friendship with Y/N because of his carelessness. He could've just sealed the cookies in a jar or box so no one could see it, but no. He had to display it for the world to see. Hermione disagrees with his plan, of course.

The three of them found the perfect time to be alone in the common room, students are still chatting and scampering about their day anywhere but their dorms. So they decided then, to tell Y/N what happened.

"So that's why I felt bad. Isn't that the after-effects of Amortentia?"

Three heads nodded in front of her, studying her features.

"Well, I'm glad it was you, Harry. Could you imagine if it was Ron?" Y/N visibly grimacing at the thought. "But to be honest, it was all my fault. I should've asked you first before eating it. Thank you for being honest with me, Harry."

It wasn’t really what the boy was expecting as a response. He was anticipating more anger or embarrassment from the girl.

Their usual cycle is back. Y/N was completely Y/N Y/L/N again it's as if nothing happened. The four of them never mentioned the incident again and Harry catches himself being disturbed with that. It made him feel some things like shouldn’t Y/N be shy around me? Or shouldn’t Ron tease us still about what happened? Or shouldn’t Hermione lecture us and watch over us more to not repeat the incident again? These thoughts run through his head as every day passes.

He also catches himself getting extra angrier at the Hufflepuff boy, Y/N’s crushing about, every time they have a Quidditch tournament. Especially that time when she barges in the Common Room pretty loudly yelling at everyone that she got a date with the cute Hufflepuff.

“Y/N can you help me find a good present for Mrs Weasley’s birthday on our next Hogsmeade trip?” He tried, one Friday morning, to get in between them.

“Of course, Harry! But, can we do it after my date?“

“Right . . . you have a date.” Sounding a tad bit more disappointed than he really is.

“But,” Y/N responded with the syllable dragging along “I could tell him to go on the next visit instead and spend the day with my best friend?”

“Oh no, I don’t want you to cancel your date because of me.”

“Harry, I could even cancel my Charms class, Godric knows how much I love that class but, that’s beside the point. What I’m saying is that I’m here for you. Also, we’ve barely hung out anymore ever since you’ve been the, what does Ron call it, ah, the Potions master!”

“Not you too!” he playfully grunted all too loudly earning a laugh from the girl.

"Seriously, I would love to come with you.”

He never thought he'd say this but he misses Y/N. His Y/N, who cannot keep her hands to herself but Harry’s.

And before he could stop himself from getting deeper into his thoughts, he was left astounded. To his knowledge, all feelings he has for his best friend are only platonic but here he is, couldn't stop himself from the thoughts of Y/N. The way she used to have her focus engraved to the boy alone and him alone. It gives him so much angst every time Y/N hasn't given him enough attention for the day.

If this stupid Amortentia incident leads him into any feelings he'd be in deep shit.

Because Harry should not be bothered to get distracted. Quidditch season is starting, he's got new people relying upon his captainship. Besides Y/N has her eyes on someone else and he cannot risk losing their friendship knowing his feelings aren't being reciprocated.

Well there it is, he's already in deep shit.

So when their first game arrived playing against Slytherin, he is rather surprised to see Ron winning them a high rank.

He knows he deserved the glory that's why as the captain of the team, he let them have the post quidditch game party in their common room. The parties were usually lead by the twins, but knowing they're already gone, he didn't know that his fellow housemates apprehended their festivities.

"Weasley! Weasley!"

They watch as Ron finally gets recognition for his own efforts alone. Y/N was nowhere to be found, probably with her new boyfriend, and Hermione was shattered when Lavender Brown smothered Ron with kisses.

The two are in a random staircase trying to comfort one another. He doesn't know who needs more comforting, Hermione or him. Knowing he already lost someone who's never his also shattered his heart.

"How does it feel, Harry? When you see Y/N with another guy?"

To say that he's dumbfounded was an understatement. He couldn't be that careless with his so-called feelings now, is he?

"I know. I see the way you look at her. You two are my best friend."

He dreaded this conversation happening. The Golden Boy has never intended on developing feelings toward his friend. Unlike Hermione and Ron, the two have been having this romantical tension ever since their first year. His feelings toward Y/N is purely conjured by an incident they never dared to speak about. The boy believes that these stupid feelings of him will only break their friendship and Harry's not risking that.

"Why don't you try something?" Hermione is always the one they go to whenever they need help and whenever they're clueless about the next step. But this, this advice of hers is definitely one Harry's scared to listen to. "Hufflepuff boy is still not making any moves yet. You know, you're valid to think about yourself too. You've always thought about the others, you always prioritize us before yourself. You deserve to live too, Harry."

So Harry did listen.

In the Great Hall, he confided himself to sit beside Y/N all the time. Hermione doesn't mind the changes in their seating arrangement as she gets to sit with Ron anyway, so candidly speaking, it is a win-win situation for everybody.

He starts small, playfully feeding her (the way she used to), talking and listening to her talk about life in general. When they were walking towards their class, he would always offer to carry her bag, in which he never really waits for her response. Intermittently inviting her to do homework by the lake alone together. And every time they have Hogsmeade visits, he would buy her sweets at Honeydukes.

And Y/N notices. It didn't really take her long before she sees. She has convinced Hermione one night to tell her of her doings that day she was under Amortentia. Harry's new behaviour towards her has perfectly mirrored the story Hermione has told her.

Little did Harry know, the feelings eventually have been mutuals.

So when the Golden Boy was informed of this Christmas Party Professor Slughorn has assembled, he didn't hesitate to ask Y/N in an instant, too afraid that Yule Ball night might happen again. He was, for once, too grateful to be part of the Slug Club as Hufflepuff Boy was not part of it. Now that just minimizes his crush problem.

He has seen her in a ball gown back in their fourth year for their Yule Ball. But he never got the chance to be the one standing beside her throughout the night but now, tonight, he feels like the luckiest man.

Standing on the top of the stairway from the girls' dorm room was his best friend he never had feelings before until this year. She wasn't wearing the grandest of gown there is but this simple dress enhanced her features. She was walking down the stairs with a smile that gave a huge impact on how she looks. She was literally glowing.

"Hi."

"Y/N," he breathed, completely in awe of what feelings do to people.

He always sees Y/N every day, talks to her and laughs with her. She sees her perfectly like what normal best friends do. But after developing feelings for her, his mind is persuaded that she was the most beautiful person that walked on the planet.

Harry is infatuated. He felt as if he was under some spell. Is this how Y/N sees him, all those times she was under the love potion?

But Harry was sure, a hundred per cent, that this is not artificial feelings. He really likes her.

So after a very successful Christmas date, with Hermione being their third wheel, the two were back from being hip to hip. Harry was glad his Y/N is back. He's been wearing the pride of not having to use a love potion to get her back beside him. Because this time, Harry did not create an artificial love to make the girl he likes, like him back. This time, he did it right. He just needed to wait for the right time and place to ask her.

Christmas has passed and Harry's time is also running fast. Of course, his special assignment with Dumbledore has never left his mind. He would do the subtle talks with Professor Slughorn here and there. He felt as if he's running out of ideas to get what he needed and to make things worse, the Potions Master is already growing annoyed with him.

"Still no luck with Slughorn, then, I take it?"

"Luck . . . That's it. All I need's a bit of luck."

That evening, Harry was away the whole time. He missed dinner but Y/N waited on him in the common room. She knows that the Felix Felicis potion has no limits. Whatever the user's deepest desires, it will help give it to them. Y/N knows that at this very moment, Harry succeeded. She makes sure that there will be someone waiting on him to celebrate it with him.

Harry came back from the Headmaster's office bearing a report about Slughorn's memory with Tom Riddle. There, in the Gryffindor Common Room, he sees her sleeping in one of the tables far back. It was not hard to see her, with the time obviously past bedtime, she was all alone.

With the liquid luck still pumping in his veins, he rushed to her. Kneeling in front of her, the Golden Boy then gently wakes the girl up.

"Harry?"

"Y/N . . . I think I'm falling"

"Falling? What falling? Are you experiencing vertigo right now? Anxiety?"

"Worse than those."

And Y/N, moving on from her sleeping state, was now fully aware of where the conversation was going. She holds his inviting hand. "What is it, Harry?"

"Love . . . I'm falling in love."

Y/N smiles at how adorable the boy is looking right now. His hair is ever so dishevelled and his lips as red as cherry. He was the most oblivious boy she knows. Has only dated one yet here he is, kneeling in front of her. Confessing.

She knows that Felix is helping him with some luck because knowing the sober Harry, he would never be bold enough to say such things. Little did Harry know, he need not some luck as she was all too blessed to have him in her life. Because to Y/N's honest opinion, in this room, she was the luckiest.

"I'm falling in love with you, Y/N."

—

(Shamefully) tagging these amazing ppl: @harryjamespotterxreader @harrypotterxx @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Text

Abstinence (M)

Summary: ''I told you, I don't know how to live without you anymore, it's like you're my drug and I'm an addict.”

"What a bad comparison." They laughed, Harry hugging her tighter. Ginny rested her head close to his collarbone, feeling entirely happy. She was so happy he was home.

"I know." Harry kissed her head. "But that's how I feel."

Harry and Ginny haven't had much time alone, until after being gone for three days, Harry comes back feeling abstinent from his favorite drug.

Notes: I wrote this for @blvnk-art's Smut Hinny Sundays, and hope you all like it I wasn't inspired by a specific art of hers, but by several I was also inspired by the song All The Time - Jeremih

AO3

-----

Ginny sighed as she got home, taking off her cloak and shoes, her feet tired after all those hours of practice, her arms sore too. Gwenog seemed to want to kill her now that she was back.

It was great to be back, Ginny was glad she had made that decision six months ago, but her body still wasn't used to all that burden of being a mother and playing Quidditch, and strength training was always the worst, leaving her more tired than usual and with even more pain in her arms.

At least, Ginny thought, Harry was staying at home more, which helped her not to spend all the hours she was away worrying about James and whether he was okay. The boy was staying part-time in day care - in the afternoon - and so far they hadn't had a problem with anything, James even seemed happier now that he was with other kids.

"Babe?" Ginny called, walking past their house which was silent, which was weird since James didn't seem to be a big fan of silence. But Harry didn't show up anywhere, all the lights in there were off, which Ginny assumed was because he'd already put James to sleep and was upstairs.

She was happy, thinking that maybe she could get a massage that night—or even something more.

Walking slowly up the stairs, afraid to make a noise, she arrived in front of James' room, smiling when she saw that Harry was sleeping sitting in the rocking chair, the little one lying on his arm, sleeping clutching his shirt. It was such a cute scene that Ginny thought her heart might melt, still unaccustomed, even after almost two years, to how Harry was such a lovely father.

He had become another man now that they had James, Harry was much more careful at work, and much more affectionate. Not that he hadn't gone before, but it looked like James had freed him from the fear of showing. Harry cried more easily, wasn't afraid to play and do childish things with Teddy and James, and let them teach him everything he didn't know. Like last week James had made Harry realize he needed to eat more slowly— "Swow, Daddy," James had said, and now he seemed a lot less anxious and rushed into eating.

Even more careful now not to wake her son, Ginny approached the chair, kissing Harry's forehead and shaking him slowly, just so he woke up and put James in his crib so they could go to bed together.

"Hi," Harry whispered, a faint smile on his lips. His face was a little scrunched up from the pillows, his cheeks red with heat, probably because he had lit the fireplace in the living room.

"Hi." Ginny gave him a quick peck. “Shall we go to bed?” She ran a hand over his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes and straightening his crooked glasses. He nodded, taking a deep breath and stretching his legs, looking at James who didn't move in his arms.

"He didn't want to leave me today." Harry stood up, looking worried as he laid his son on his own bed, but as always after he fell asleep, James made no sign that he was going to wake up. Little hands ran to grab the yellow blanket Hermione had given him, and Ginny covered him with the other blanket, not wanting him to be cold at night. She kissed his forehead and lifted the crib enclosure, thinking that soon that wouldn't be enough to stop James from getting out of bed.

'You were gone for three days, he missed you' Ginny reminded him, hugging Harry and resting her head on his chest, letting him drag her towards their bedroom, feeling finally at home now that he was there.

Harry had gone away to a conference in Spain, and it had been a long three lonely days where she had the bed all to herself - sometimes James would cry to stay with her through the night, seeming to realize that things weren't the same without his daddy there.

"I missed you guys too." Harry kissed her head. 'I need to take a shower.'

"Me too, Gwenog today seemed to want to kill us in practice, I even thought maybe she was punishing us for something... You know, she's crazy sometimes."

'I know. Robards was about to lose his hair at the conference, telling everyone he would go crazy if he heard one more lecture.” Harry went into their bathroom, turning on the shower and starting to undress. Ginny had missed that routine and intimacy.

She took off her clothes too, tossing them in the laundry hamper, their cold room making her skin crawl. "We have a party to go to on Saturday."

"A party?" Harry grimaced, stepping under the shower.

‘Yes, I promised we would. Sorry, there was no other way out.' She followed, re-embracing Harry and resting her head on his now bare chest, the water splashing between them, relaxing her muscles. "It's a fundraiser for an orphaned children's charity… It'll be quick, we'll stay for an hour or two, then we'll go back." She promised, giving him what she hoped was her best look. Harry sighed and nodded, tightening his arms around her, pulling their bodies closer together.

‘Okay, we will. But two hours at most.” Ginny nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"I missed you so much," she whispered, lifting her hands to cup his face, pulling him into a deeper kiss, never wanting to let go. Harry squeezed her hips, letting her feel his cock that was beginning to show signs of life.

The kiss started to get hotter faster than she expected, soon Harry had picked her up and pushed her against the cold wall, squeezing her waist tighter and thrusting his tongue deeper into her mouth, as if suddenly a key had turned inside him and Harry had been as hungry as she was.

Ginny pulled at his hair, moaning into his mouth and scratching at his scalp trying to make him as crazy as he was leaving her, his teeth playing with her lip and his hands going down to her ass and squeezing.

“Fuck, I missed this.” Harry moaned as she tightened her legs around him, her wet intimacy touching his already hard cock.

They hadn't had a lot of time to get laid now that James was older, the boy seemed to have the right timing to want his parents whenever they were too close to each other, either to pee or because he was bored and hunger. Ginny had already accepted that by the weekend they would be too tired to do anything but sleep, and that getting laid would have to be for weekdays, during the morning shower, a quickie before James woke up.

"Me too." Ginny thought she might lose her mind at any moment, almost screaming when his trained fingers touched her swollen clit, throwing her head back and biting her lip to keep the noises back.

"The last few days I felt like a fucking teenager thinking about you." Harry whispered in her ear, his thick voice making her moan. “Thinking of you on top of me, below, on the side, on all fours…” He continued, biting the sensitive skin of her neck. "As much as I love getting laid in the shower, I miss a bed."

"Yes, shit, Harry yes." Ginny would agree to flee this planet right now if he continued to touch her like that.

She didn't pay much attention to the next few minutes between him turning off the shower, applying a basic dry spell on their bodies, and walking into their bedroom, waking up only when Harry threw her onto the bed, looking like a hungry animal climbing on top of her, his mouth traveling all over her body, sucking and biting the inside of her thighs until it reached the top and licked her clit. All the tension from practice, the daily worries, everything, was gone when his mouth touched her there and did all those wonders to her.

Ginny still remembered the first time Harry had done that to her, that hot, muggy summer after the war, one sunny afternoon when Harry had taken her to her room, all nervous and anxious, saying he wanted to try something new. It was good, confusing, but good. But now, Merlin, now it was perfect. There were no toys that came close to what he did, all that erotic dance with his tongue, taking her to the peak and making her enjoy the delicious fall more and more.

Her throat went dry, her scream scratching as Harry sucked on her clit, his arms holding Ginny firmly in place, preventing her from moving any further.

She saw stars, can't wait any longer, thighs trembling as she began to come, trying not to scream too loudly so that nothing could stand in the way of them both.

"I feel like a new man," Harry said, wiping his beard and moving up to be level with her face, a naughty grin plastered across his face. "Making you come is the best thing in the world." He kissed her, but Ginny was still too much in the clouds to reciprocate in a very excited way, her body looking like jelly on the bed.

"I wish I could suck you back babe, but I miss you inside of me." Ginny muttered, biting his lower lip and moving down to kiss his jaw and neck.

'I don't care too much about it, I want to be inside you too soon' Harry moaned as she spun them around, taking advantage of the fact that he was too focused on her mouth on his neck, and Ginny snuggled into his lap, jerking him a little to buy time for herr body to be ready again. “Fuck, you're going to kill me.” His green eyes darkened, rolling in their sockets.

"Don't die before you fuck me." Ginny chuckled as he moaned once more, her hand tightening a little more at the base of his dick as Harry liked, already sensing she was almost ready.

"No, not in a million years." He arched his back, biting his lip and seeming to try hard not to get carried away before they even started. "I feel like an abstinence junkie."

"I'm glad my pussy has that effect on you." She blinked at him who admired her as if Ginny were a Goddess. She felt so desired when he looked at her like that.

She couldn't take it anymore, she lifted her hips, adjusting to take him inside her, moaning in satisfaction at the feel of Harry opening her, needing to lean against his chest so she wouldn't fall once she was fully seated. That was one of her favorite positions, he touched her in that delicious spot that made Ginny lose consciousness and be taken by fire.

"Fuck." Harry squeezed her hips to keep her from moving, closing his eyes as if in pain, his back arching on the bed. 'Fuck, you feel so good.' Ginny tensed her muscles as she'd learned in that magazine she read in her gynecologist's office, and Harry seemed to lose whatever sanity was left in him, moaning loudly and still clenching his hands, almost to the point of hurting her.

"Like it?" she asked, a satisfied smirk on her face, even though it had taken her out of her orbit as well. Harry nodded, finally letting her move.

"So good," he muttered, finally opening his eyes and staring at her, the green iris making her blush. His hands moved from her hips to her breasts, pinching and massaging her sensitive nipples, and Ginny nearly lost her rhythm and fell on top of Harry with the teasing.

Neither of them could say much more, Ginny quickened her movement, interspersed with the contractions that made her and Harry moan and lose their minds more and more, each time feeling closer to coming again. His trained hands roamed her body, to her nipples, and then to her sensitive clit, playing just enough to make her feel pleasure and not pain.

Ginny thought she would go crazy if she didn't come soon.

Harry looked the same, because suddenly he couldn't wait any longer, squeezing her hips and lifting his, rushing his thrusts and fucking her as if it made him come alive. She didn't care too much, because she felt the same way.

It wasn't long before they both came, Ginny bent down and captured Harry's lips before he made too much noise and woke James, kissing him to keep himself sane, her nails firmly on his shoulders as that electric shock took over her body, the ripples making her lose control.

"I love you," she whispered, feeling Harry pull out of her and his cum trickle out. They would deal with that mess in a little while, Ginny needed to breathe first.

"Me too." Harry looked the same mess as her, body sweaty and arms trembling, he smiled at her. ‘I'm glad to be home again, not having you to sleep at night is unbearable.’

"Just to sleep?" Ginny joked, looking at him like he was still that 16 year old boy she was madly in love with, feeling a lot of new things and not being able to go to sleep without smiling.

'For everything. I told you, I don't know how to live without you anymore, it's like you're my drug and I'm an addict.”

"What a bad comparison." They laughed, Harry hugging her tighter. Ginny rested her head close to his collarbone, feeling entirely happy. She was so happy he was home.

"I know." Harry kissed her head. "But that's how I feel."

#smuthinnysundays #hinny #harry x ginny #harry and ginny #hinny headcanon #my fic

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

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Amnesia (p1) | Draco x Reader

Prompt: The Battle of Hogwarts was one that was hard on everyone mentally and physically. During the war, you took a brutal fall, hitting your head, which caused you to lose your memory, amnesia if you will. You forget a solid chunk of your life, specifically your last few years at Hogwarts and the relationships you made with certain people, including your romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy. What happens in Part One of this multipart series?

Warnings: language, violence, blood, memory loss, death, mentions of PTSD, anxiety

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love. Enjoy part one :)

Flashbacks told in italics!

War, chaos, violence, and then silence. Peace. The rubble had fallen, the chains had been broken, and the dust had settled. But things weren’t over. No, quite the opposite. This was just the beginning of it all.

Hogwarts, as you knew it, was falling to the ground. Everywhere you looked around you saw stones falling, students running, flashes of light and fire, the echoes of screams, yet the only thing on your mind was finding him. Finding the blonde boy who you loved so much your bones shook and you heart ached. You ran through the halls, dodging falling stones and avoiding spells, curses, and hexes from wands. Your breath was uneven as you ran down the stairs, screaming at the top of your lungs, your throat burning, “Draco!”

As you ran down the hall, your body collided with that of your closest friend. “(Y/N), you have to run, get out of here, Draco is gone, there’s no use searching for him,” Ron grabs your face in his hands, desperately trying to shake some sense into you. He searched your eyes for any sense of hope; he needed it now more than ever. His face was covered in dried blood and fresh blood, his hands covered in dirt and his eyes full of panic. He needed you to survive this war, if it was the last thing he could do. “Listen to me,” he shakes you as you let a sob escape your lips. “Draco is gone. Okay? He left.”

You shake your head ferociously. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s here. He’s waiting for me. He told me he would wait for me and he’d see me at the end of this,” you yell at Ron, your ribs aching and knees weak. You’d recall when Draco furiously kissed your lips hours before this all dissolved into madness, telling you to stay where you were and he’d come back for you. Draco promised that you both would run away from this and go somewhere you couldn’t be found. Away from his father, away from the Dark Lord, away from magic, away from it all. He wanted to escape just as badly, if not more than you. “I need to find him,” you pushed Ron off with all the might you could muster in your frail body. “Draco!” you scream again, your voice cracking, too weak to echo anymore.

Ron grabs you by the waist now, pulling you away as you kick and scream in his grip, demanding he let you go. “I’m not letting you get killed!” Ron yelled. “I already lost Fred and I’m not losing you too!” he screams, his voice cracking with anger and fear. “Hermione, help!” Ron calls to Hermione who grabs your fists that pound on Ron’s chest.

“Let me go!” you sob, breaking down under the grip of your two close friends, completely losing yourself to your emotions. “I need to find Draco,” you manage to speak in between sobs, choking on your own tears and cries. “He could be dead for all I know! Please let me find him,” you grab onto the collar of Ron’s shirt, begging him, staring into his eyes as tears pour out of yours. “I need to find him. He could be out there, looking for me, calling for me. I need him, Ron, let me go, let me go find him!”

Hermione wraps you in her arms, trying to get you to stop crying as they pull you behind a wall. She whispers in your ear that you needed to protect yourself. You couldn’t worry about Draco anymore. He was a lost cause. But how could you forget about him? This was the man you loved so violently that you would die before you let anything bad happen to him. He was your one and only and you knew that the day he kissed you for the first time. “You need to stay here. Right here. You understand me? This is a matter of your life and death, do you understand?” Hermione scolds you. “Under no circumstances do you run for anyone. You run for your life if someone tries to kill you. You fight back. But under no circumstances do you do anything else, do you understand me?” she yells at you, needing you to understand that you needed to survive this.

With a shaky breath, you nod. Hermione looks at Ron before Hermione runs back to the chaos, flicking her wand, sending beams at Death Eaters, protecting the students. Ron looks at you, tears still in his eyes as you hold back your sobs. Ron engulfs you in a large hug before pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “I need you to live. Please,” he begs you, clinging onto every last bit of hope he has. “I’ll find you at the end of this and we’ll be okay.” You shake your head, giving him a tight hug again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you tell him before he joins Hermione, running off protecting her and fellow students.

So there you stood behind the concrete wall, looking around as others fought and got struck. People were getting killed all around you and you were being suffocated by the sight. Why were you just standing here not fighting back? Deliberately disobeying Ron and Hermione’s orders, you run from the wall, flicking your wand swiftly, pushing back Death Eaters, defending yourself and other students. You stood proudly beside your fellow classmates, slashing your wands, casting spells and fighting the good fight.

As you fight alongside your classmates, you turn your head, keeping a 360 on the area. But that’s when you see him. His blonde hair covered in dirt, his concerned face looking behind him as his mother and father guide him away from the scene, across the bridge. From a distance, you see him look in your direction as your heart sinks. He was leaving without you.

“Draco,” you whisper, forgetting about everything in the world and focusing on him. “Draco!” you scream with every last fiber in your body. You launch yourself into a run down the stairs and towards the bridge. You push people out of your way in a beeline for your love, hoping that he’ll stop for you, but he doesn’t. His parents keep an iron grip on him, pulling him along the bridge. Draco turns around, seeing you run as he tries to writhe out of his mother’s grip. His face is full of concern, but he can’t escape. His father puts his body in front of Draco’s as Draco screams out in pain and fury. “Draco!” you yell.

Your feet carry you as fast as possible as you run toward the bridge, trying to get to him as quickly as possible before it was too late. Draco claws at his father, trying to get past him. As you run you feel your breath becoming short and your lungs burn, but you ignore the sensation and push. You need to get to him. He needed to get to you. You needed to save each other.

But that all came to a screeching halt when you name being yelled out in horror by Draco. “(Y/N), watch out!” someone screams a blood curdling scream as you look up to see a large rock come crashing down.

And that’s when it went white. Your hearing gave out. You went numb. There was silence. Deafening. Palpable. The silence screamed for a million years and then a million more.

But then there was a roar. Your ears rung and yelled. Your brain thumped against your skull, your lungs burned like you swallowed ash, and your mouth tasted of metal and dirt. You repeated told yourself to open your eyes, but you couldn’t. You tried again and again, but nothing. All you could sense was ringing in your ears and muffled voices. Who was it? Who was talking? You couldn’t understand anyone or what they were saying. It all sounded like a different language. What happened?

Even though your brain was running at a thousand miles an hour, you crashed. Your senses gave out and the silence was back. Deafening. Palpable. The silence screamed again for another million years.

But this time there was a roar and your eyes shot wide open. You sucked in a large breath like you couldn’t breathe before. Your lungs swelled with oxygen, but hurt when you took deep breaths. It took you a second before you felt the rupture of pain that carried from the back of your head to the front. You sucked in a sharp breath, placing a hand where it hurt the most.

As you looked down, you noticed the white sheets covering your body and the small hospital bed you lied down in. Thin hospital robe on your body and on your arm stuck out multiple IVs and monitors. You heard your heart rate monitor picks up speed as your anxiety grew with every passing second. What happened to you? Why were you in the hospital? Who brought you here?

When you try to remember what happened to you, you can’t recall a single thing. You can’t even pinpoint what your last memory was, they all just mesh together. Before you can think about what is going on, the door opens up and a Healer’s assistant walks in. “You’re up,” she smiles. “Hello, (Y/N). How are you feeling?” she has a bright grin and calming eyes. This puts you at ease.

“My head hurts,” you respond.

She gives you a knowing smile. “I’m sure it does. You got severely concussed a few days ago,” she grabs a clipboard from the side table and starts scribbling down notes and checking your vitals.

Your eyes go wide, “A few days ago?” you speak bewildered.

The Healer’s assistant takes your temperature with a muggle thermometer before handing you a glass of water. “Yes, a few days ago,” she confirms. “You were in and out of consciousness a few times before you woke up today. Just to put your mind at ease, you have a few broken ribs, that’s why it may be a little hard to breathe and a sprained wrist. We administered you a healing potion, so you should be fully recovered in a few days, but you should still monitor yourself. Your brain, however, is still bruised.” She places down the clipboard and walks back to the door. “Let me tell the Healer that you’re awake. In the meantime, I think there are some people who want to see you.”

You sit up in bed and patiently wait for your visitors. The door swings open and in floods your mother and father. “Mum, Dad,” you smile as they both have tears in their eyes when they see you. They hurry to your side, crying into your hospital gown, kissing your face, thanking Merlin that you were alright. You hold onto them tight, afraid to let them go, as you let a few happy tears fall from your eyes.

“We thought you were dead,” your mother looks at you as you wipe her tears away, holding onto her and your dad’s hands. “Thank Merlin they got you to the hospital as fast as they could. Madam Pomfrey had taken good care of you before they brought you here,” she tells you. “I can’t believe you are alright.”

You spent a few hours with your parents, the Healer coming in a few times, speaking about how you had to take it easy and how you are lucky to be alive. Your father and mother, however, were acting a little strange whenever they spoke to the Healer. One would get up and speak to him in hushed tones as the other distracted you with conversation, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to what they were leaving you out of. What was going on?

“Mum?” you ask her as your dad whispers to the Healer. “What are they taking about?” you question. She just brushed it off and says he just wants to know how quickly your recovery would be. You knew she was lying, but rather than implore for answers, you let it be. You were tired.

A few more hours past when the Healer’s assistant from earlier came back in. “Hi, (Y/N), visitor hours are almost done, but you have a few more people who came in to see you,” she tells you as you furrow your brows. She motions her hand to let the visitors in.

When the visitor’s step in it takes you a second to register who they were. Your brain was trying to put names to their faces. You knew that you knew them. You felt your excitement grow when you saw them. You could tell that you had a deep connection to them because when they saw you, both of them started sobbing tears of joy. The girl with fluffy brown hair covered her mouth to conceal her sobs, but a large smile was on her face. Beside her the ginger boy stood, taller in stature but tears running down his face as he silently cried when he saw you. “You’re alright,” he whispers.

Your parents give you and these visitors some privacy, leaving the room so it’s just you three. You stay silent, but a smile is on your face. What are your names? The boy slowly approaches your bedside, sitting next to you, and gently grabbing your hand. He squeezes it and brings another hand to brush the hair out of your eyes. His touch was loving and delicate, handling you with the utmost care. That’s when it hit.

“Ron fucking Weasley,” you laugh as he joins in, pressing his forehead against yours. Ron laughs and cries against you as you cup his cheek gently. It felt like forever since you saw him. You give his hand a squeeze before pulling away and looking at the girl. “Thought I forgot about you, Granger? Get in here,” you speak as she laughs and joins the small group hug, still making sure not to hurt you. The three of you sit and cry and laugh for what feels like hours. “Where have you all been?” you ask with a smile.

Hermione laughs, “Well, for starters, you’ve been out for four days since your injury.” She rubs your arm. “We’ve all been really worried about you. Harry, too, but he’s also in recovery right now. You’ll see him as soon as you’re discharged from the hospital.”

You nod, the image of Harry Potter popping up at the mention of his name, significant memories flooding back into your brain of him. You think of year four when you had a crush on him briefly during the Triwizard Tournament and you smile at the memory. You also remember Ron teasing you about it after that crush died out, Harry laughing along with you both. Then a question pops up in your mind. “You guys,” you start. “How did I get injured? The Healer told me it’s mostly a head injury, but I don’t remember it. Did you see it happen?”

Ron and Hermione uncomfortably shift in their seats as Hermione shakes her head to Ron, letting him explain what happened. “During the battle, you were running for Draco when a piece of rubble came crashing down and hit you in the head,” Ron explains gently and slowly, making sure not to disturb any trauma that could be sprung up from the horrific scene. Ron recalls watching it unfold and the wind being knocked out of him as it happened. Ron remembers running to your side, screaming for someone to help pick you up and get you to Madam Pomfrey. Ron shakes the memory away and breathes in deeply. Recalling the day was too emotional for him and it happened to recently for him to relive it. He was careful with his words, stroking your hand as he explained what happened.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Wait, hold on,” you laugh. “Battle? Is that like a new name for a quidditch match or something? I know that I play quite aggressive during games, but I didn’t think it was going to hospitalize me.” As you attempt to crack a joke, Hermione and Ron’s eyes go wide before they look at each other in fear. It was worse than they had thought. “What?” you asked, the concern raising in your voice. “What are you hiding from me?”

Hermione gulps, “Do you not remember the war?” The scoots closer to your bed, seeing if you were playing a joke on them, but you were deadly serious.

“War?” you repeat. “About what? Is He back?” you question, wondering if the Dark Lord was back. You remember Cedric Diggory’s death like it was yesterday, Harry yelling on the field over his dead body that the Dark Lord had returned. Hermione and Ron stutter, trying to find the words. “What’s going on? Are you guys playing a sick joke on me?” you start to frantically ask. “Did Fred and George put you up to this?” At the mention of Fred’s name, Ron instantly tenses and his breath hitches in his throat. Hermione rubs his back, comforting him, holding him close to her as if something happened to Fred. What was going on? Confusion darted through your brain. “I need to go take a breather for a second,” Ron sighs, rising from his chair. “I’m glad you’re awake, (Y/N).” Ron kisses your forehead before walking to the other side of your hospital room, opening the window for some fresh air.

Hermione looks back at you and grabs a hold of both of your hands. “(Y/N), I need you to be completely honest with me like I am being with you right now. What do you remember from Hogwarts? List out the last few things you remember. I need to know,” she pleads, looking deep into your eyes searching.

Your breath picks up as your lungs fill with oxygen, burning from the rapid movement. Your heart rate sky rockets and the back of your head starts to tingle in pain again like it did when you first woke up. Trying to recall your memories, your brain feels like it’s being squeezed. Not much comes up. “I don’t know, ‘Mione,” you tell her. “I remember Cedric’s death, I remember going home for the summer that year, I remember coming back to school and Harry being on edge because no one believed him about the Dark Lord, I remember that twat Umbridge,” you tell her, “but after that the rest is a blur...” Hermione looks at Ron who’s eyes are wide in disbelief. It was much worse than they thought. “What in the bloody hell is this war you’re talking about?”

Ron looks to Hermione and then looks to you and says, “(Y/N), what year of Hogwarts are we in?”

You take a second to think. If your memory and your timeline serves you right, you were in year five. “Year five...it’s 1995...why?” you respond. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Bloody hell, this isn’t good,” Ron runs his hands through his hair. Your eyes widen and your heart rate picks up, lungs burning from the rapid inhalations you were breathing in and out. Your head was pounding now. What was happening? Were you wrong? You were sixteen, right? How could you be mistaken? Ron paces back and forth as Hermione remains deadly still. Did your parents not tell you?

The more you think, the more your head hurts. “Wait a second,” you stop the small chatter between Ron and Hermione. “You said I hurt my head because I was running to Draco Malfoy?” you ask as your close friends shake their heads. “Why? I’ve had a total of four conversations with him. Why would I be running after him?”

And that’s when the severity of the situation hit Granger and Weasley. “Go get the Healer,” Hermione commands Ron as he dashes out of the room. “You are being honest with us, right?” she asks as you rapid shake your head. Why would I be lying? “(Y/N), you cannot freak out about this, okay?” she looks at your heart monitor as it beeps quickly, picking up the pace with every passing second. “Okay,” she breathes out. “Listen to me,” she grabs your hands, squeezing them. As she does so, Ron enters back in with the Healer from before. They observe what Hermione does. “(Y/N), you are eighteen. Hogwarts had a battle against Voldemort where many people died and sacrificed themselves for the greater good. That’s where you got injured. You were running to Draco to find him because he-”

“Hold on,” the Healer stops Hermione. “Don’t overflow her with information, she can have an aneurysm from the anxiety and overstimulation.” Hermione rises from her chair as the Healer replaces her seat. “(Y/N), I need you to look at me and breathe. Try to relax yourself.”

At this point you are hyperventilating. “What is going on? Did I miss two years of my life? How long was I asleep for? What war happened? Is this what you and my parents were talking about before? Are you all lying to me?” you start to panic. You look around, needing to get out, out of this room, out of this gown, out of your own head. You felt like you were being tortured from the inside out. “Get these fucking tubes out of me,” you claw your arm as the Healer grabs your hands in attempt to cease your manic movements.

“I need you to listen to me, I will give you the answers you want, (Y/N), okay?” he attempts to reason with you as you try to wiggle out of his grip. “I will tell you what you want to know. Hermione and Ron will be with you the whole time. None of us are lying to you, okay? You just need to trust us,” the Healer speaks slowly as not to rile you up.

Slowly, you let your breathing even out as you lay back in bed, looking at Ron and Hermione. You give them scared looks as Ron grabs your hands, giving them a squeeze, Hermione sitting herself next to you on the bed. “Okay.”

The Healer takes a deep breath in and starts. “You are eighteen, recently graduated from Hogwarts. Hogwarts went through the second wizarding war, which you fought in very bravely. In the midst of it, you saw someone you loved and you ran over to him and got a nasty head injury. The head injury has caused you to have something called temporary amnesia or memory loss. That being said, you can’t remember the past two years of your life,” he tells you.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what to say or do. You just sit in shock as your mouth goes dry. You feel like you’re going to vomit, pass out, scream, cry, or all of the above. How could this just happen to you? You just forgot everything that happened over the past two years? So much could have happened and yet you couldn’t recall an ounce of it. You only remembered up to year five and then your brain just shut you out. Your body was working against you. “What?” you ask breathlessly, tears starting to pool in your eyes as the Healer gives you the sorriest look you have ever seen. “I-I-I don’t understand how can my brain just forget?”

“I’m so sorry you are going through this,” the Healer tells you as you look to Ron and Hermione who are starting to cry now. This couldn’t be happening. “But that being said, this amnesia is temporary. It will wear off, but we don’t know when. It can just come back one day and that can be scary, I know. But you have great resources and friends and family and a boyfriend who will help you navigate through this. I will give you a minute to talk to your friends,” the Healer squeezes your arm before leaving the room.

As the door closes behind him, you erupt into sobs. Hermione cradles you in her chest as violent sobs rippled through your body, causing pain to shoot through every fiber in your body, but you didn’t care. Your brain didn’t work like it should and that was a horrifying thought. Why you? Why you of all people? Why was this happening? Who did this to you? How could this happen? Who let it happen? Too many questions danced in your head that you were unable to answer.

Ron pulls your head up to look at him. “We’re going to get through this,” he tells you. “You have me, you have Hermione, you have Harry, you have your parents, you have our friends,” he smiles at you.

“What did the Healer mean when he said I have a boyfriend? Who? Why can’t I remember him?” you speak through sniffles. You had a feeling that your boyfriend was a certain someone, but the thought of him being your romantic interest made your stomach churn.

Your two friends gulp, trying to figure out how to navigate this situation. “You know how I said you ran over to Draco Malfoy when you got hit?” Hermione says. “It’s him. Draco Malfoy is your boyfriend.”

That’s when you think your heart is going to fall out of your stomach. You could only pinpoint a few memories of him throughout what you can remember. You remember Draco being cruel and mean to you and your friends. He called Hermione a mudblood, he teased Ron relentlessly, he always had a bone to pick with Harry, and he made fun of you until you cried multiple times. How could you love someone like him?

Almost as if one cue, the Healer’s assistant came back in and said, “(Y/N), visitor’s hours are over in twenty minutes, but there is someone in the waiting room for you. He insists that he knows you and he’s your boyfriend. The name is Draco Malfoy.”

Everyone and the air freezes. He was here. He came to see you. He didn’t forget about you, but you certainly did with him. Although he was one of the last people you wanted to see right now, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that told you to let him in. He may have the answers you need. Ron and Hermione insist that she turns him away, but you halt their demands, you saying, “Bring him in. I want to see him.”

She nods and leaves the room as Ron and Hermione just look at you shocked, knowing that this is not going to end well for anyone. “Why did-”

“Because I want to know if he has answers,” you simply state, eyes not moving from the door. If Draco really was your boyfriend, then he should know you better than yourself. Maybe Draco could bring back your memory. Maybe he could help you recover quicker. Then his nightmare would be over.

The door swings open and there he stood, in all black, hair disheveled, a worried look on his face. Draco looked sick. He was pale and looked thin, almost sickly. When his eyes meet yours, tears fill his eyes and a soft smile appears on his face. “Darling,” he breathes out as he steps closer to you. Ron and Hermione instinctively stand up to protect you as he looks over to them, at first angry, but then he sees the looks on their faces and that’s when his fear worsens. He understands with just a look. The situation was worse than he had thought. He thought you would wake up and you would pick up from where you left off. He had explaining to do, but he was ready to work it through with you. But this situation was one he was not prepared for. Draco looks back at you and says, “You...don’t...”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry, Draco, but I don’t know you like you think I do.”

In that moment, all of Draco’s memories of you flooded his mind. The first time he remembered thinking that he liked you. You were in the room of requirement when Umbridge busted Potter and you had a horrified, yet angry look on your face. As you left the room, you pushed Draco out of the way, looking at him with a disgusted face.

“You’re despicable, Malfoy,” you spit at him.

Draco let a smirk appear on his face as he bit his lip. “If you want me that badly, (Y/L/N), you should just come to my room tonight,” he spoke, eyes raking you up and down, knowing it would annoy you.

You rolled your eyes before stomping on his foot, him wincing in pain as the boys around him laughed. “If you want to get slapped next time, you should have just asked,” you mimic him. “You’re deplorable.”

Although the memory was not a happy one, Draco was fond of it because he knew you were hard to get and Draco lived for the chase. He knew you could hold your own and not depend on him for everything; you were independent and he found that irresistible. It wasn’t long after that that he had asked you on a date, starting a rollercoaster of relationship. You were there for him in his darkest times, in the hours where he felt himself slipping away, but you were always there to pull him back out and show him the light to which he was forever indebted to you.

Draco knew that he had no greater love than the love he had found with you and if he had to fight like hell for it, then he would, the rest of the world be damned.

So there he was, standing in front of you in a hospital bed, the sight already making him sick to his stomach. He looked over to Ron and Hermione as if to ask them to give him some alone time with you. Your two friends looked back at you, to which you nodded, them giving your hands a squeeze before leaving the hospital room.

Now you were alone, staring at the boy in front of you who you were supposed to know everything about and him to you. But instead, your mind drew blank. You couldn’t remember anything about him besides what you had known up to year five. You got no feeling of excitement when you saw him in comparison to the reaction you had when you saw Ron and Hermione. You didn’t feel like you had a connection with him. You just felt numb. Tingling from exhaustion and burning with pain in your head and lungs. So badly you wanted to close your eyes and go to sleep, hoping that this was a sick dream and when you woke up things would be okay.

“You remember nothing?” he asks, blue eyes like the ocean brimming with tears that threatened to pool over, but disappeared when he took a deep breath in, his attempt to remain strong in front of you.

“I remember up to year five,” you correct him. “I don’t remember any of our relationship,” you confess.

This makes Draco’s heart plummet into his stomach, but he tries to not show it on his face. He slowly tries to approach your bed and reach for your hand, hoping that his touch would make you remember something, anything. But when he extends his hand out to touch you, you pull away, looking at him way too confused and scared to touch him back. You barely know who he was, why would you want to touch him? As if this whole situation couldn’t get any worse. He had run away from his mother after his father was taken to Azkaban, in hopes to find you and fulfill the dreams that you two had of running away from this place and magic to start a new life together. A clean slate. But his dreams came crashing down from around him. Now Draco had to pick up the pieces and build everything back up exactly as it was. Or else he didn’t know what he’d do. Draco had poured everything into this relationship of yours just for it all to be thrown away due to a nasty head injury. This had to be a sick joke crafted by his father in some way shape or form. But he wished it was that simple.

Draco shakes his head, “Right.”

You look at the deeply broken boy in front of you and you feel sorry for him. Even though you cannot remember anything about your romantic history, your heart aches for him. This must be difficult to go through. Someone you love not know who you are. What kind of sick torture. “I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I wish I could remember.”

He offers you a sad smile, “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” You just nod your head as the two of you stay in this silence for a moment. “It’ll come back, right? Your memories?”

Nodding gently, you speak, “That’s what the Healer said.”

Draco sits in that moment, knowing that there was hope for you and your relationship. But it was just a matter of if he was willing to fight for it.

To be continued

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

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alwaysfeelingsaintlike · 3 years

Text

Just One Night [G.W]

description: George is out for his stag party and you’re out for your hen night, but the two of you just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

pairing: George Weasley x Reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: very light smut, oral sex, alcohol

taglist: @p0gues4l @amourtentiaa (let me know if you want to be added!)

“George, it’s just one night. We’ll be fine,” you said as you finished packing your bags.

“Y/N, we haven’t spent a night apart since you finished at Hogwarts,” he pouted, as he lounged across the bed, watching your every movement.

“I repeat, it is one night. I think we’ll survive.” You didn’t want to admit to George that you’d miss him this one night, even though it was the truth. If you gave him an inch of indecision, he would convince you not to go at all, and this was not a night you wanted to miss. After all, it was your hen night.

He sulked some more and you added, “George you will have a wonderful time out with the boys tonight and you’ll forget all about me.”

“Impossible,” he smiled. You shook your head as you zipped up your suitcase. George had moved from the bed and was now standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Don’t leave me darling,” he whispered in your ear. You took a deep breath, finding it difficult to resist him. He started kissing your neck and you breathed in, “George…”

Before you realized what happened, George had you pinned down to the bed and his lips were locked on yours. Both your arms were wrapped around his neck as his hands caressed your torso. Before things got too heated, you pulled away.

“George I really need to go,” you whispered.

He smiled and gazed into your eyes, “You can be a little late.” You couldn’t help but smile and his lips found yours again as he began peeling off your clothing. Moments later you were both exposed and you were straddled on top of George. After some mutual foreplay, you were both ready for things to get more intimate. You positioned yourself on his shaft and started slowly rocking back and forth, planting gentle kisses on his chest and neck. You increased your pulses as your breathing quickened and several small moans escaped from your lips. George smiled, getting off on your pleasure and he placed his hands on your hips, quickening your rhythms.

George suddenly changed the pace, pushing you backwards so that he was on top of you. Your head was just barely off the edge of the bed, giving you the feeling of lightheadedness. George sucked on your neck as he thrust deeper inside of you. You felt your fingertips starting to tingle, knowing you were nearing a climax.

“Oh George,” you breathed, running your fingernails across his bare back. He continued at his pace as your back arched and you started to orgasm. You felt George cum inside of you as his full body weight crashed on top of you. You laid there motionless for a moment, both of you catching your breath and recovering from your intimate moment. You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, Georgie.”

“You know you aren’t supposed to say that after sex, dear.”

“I know, but it’s true and I don’t want you to forget it.” He lifted his head from your chest and kissed you lightly on the lips. You let out a big sigh and said the words you knew he was dreading, “I do really need to go now.”

“I know, I know. I won’t fight you this time. Have a lovely night with the girls and don’t forget about me.”

“Now you know I could never do that. Enjoy your night out as well. I want to hear all the stories tomorrow morning.”

“Yes of course, love. Now get going before Hermione apparates over here to retrieve you.”

You magically summoned your clothes and ran a finger through your hair to gussy up. “I love you,” you smiled as you apparated.

“Love you more!” You heard him shout as you were transported to London.

“Y/N! There you are! We thought you’d changed your mind.” Hermione said, as she embraced you in a warm hug.

“Oh no, nothing like that. Just got caught up packing,” you lied as a slight blush crept up your cheeks. You hugged Ginny and Angelina, and to your surprise, Fleur. You had invited her out of courtesy, assuming she wouldn’t be interested, yet here she was. Hermione had booked you all a suite in a luxury hotel in the center of London. Her parents had some connection at the hotel and managed to get the room for you free of charge. You told the girls you wanted to do something different for your hen party and Hermione suggested you go out in London and explore some of the muggle bars, where you wouldn’t run into any familiar faces. You were a little enamored with the idea, as it seemed like you knew everyone in the local wizarding community. Venturing into London also gave George more freedom to bar hop along the usual spots. You imagined he would spend some time with Madame Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks before returning to some of the bars in Diagon Alley. You and George both loved having a good time with friends, but it wasn’t often that you went out without one another. You were excited to have your girls’ night, but you knew you would miss George’s presence.

“Come on now, get changed. We’ve got dinner reservations!” Ginny urged. You found an empty room in the suite and magically unpacked the bag you had brought, evaluating your options. You had brought a selection of white dresses, all of different cuts and styles. After magically curling your hair, you selected a long sleeved white v-neck dress with a twirly, skater skirt. The top was made from lace that was sheer and snug around your arms. The flirty skirt was the perfect combination of classy, yet fun. You put on long gold chain earrings and a pair of gold heels. You stepped out of the room and found your friends all dressed in beautiful black dresses.

“Shall we save the sash and the willies for the bar then?” Hermione said, holding up a bachelorette sash and some decorative penises. You burst out laughing and nodded, wanting to save the attention for the bar scene. With that you grabbed your things and headed out for dinner.

“I wonder what Y/N’s doing right now…” George said, falling distracted yet again.

“I’d say at this point she’s probably getting a lap dance from a male stripper dressed as a bobby,” Ron stated. Harry and Lee let out chuckles.

George snapped out of his daze and responded, “Is that where they’ve gone?”

“No, you wanker. I’m only joking,” Ron replied.

“You need another beer,” Lee added, flagging down Madame Rosmerta. “Mate, this is one of your last nights as a single man. Stop harping over Y/N.”

“I know, you’re right. I just don’t like being apart from her.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re getting married,” Bill said, bringing a pitcher of beer for the group.

“Is this how you were with Fleur?”

“Sure. I never liked being away from her, especially when times were darker. I was so afraid that if we were separated I’d never see her again. Now I don’t have to worry so much about that, which makes it easier to be away. “

“George, if there’s one thing I know about you and Y/N, it’s that you can make it through anything. I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you two are meant to be together. Now, can you stop pouting over her and get drunk with us?” Ron commented. George couldn’t help that Y/N was his focus point of the night and he didn’t want to be a downer when his mates were all there to have a good time with him. He decided to try and shift his focus on the night ahead. He wanted to have stories to tell Y/N, knowing she would be enjoying herself tonight and would be eager to share her memories with him.

George responded to Ron’s comment by raising his glass and downing the fresh beer. All the guys cheered him on and started to get a little rowdy, preparing to finally get the night started.

“Okay, give me a little bit of a break before the next shot,” you stated, letting the lemon drop shot settle just a bit. Dinner had ended and you had reached your first bar. It was very modern, with dim lighting and lots of sleek furniture. After some convincing, you had finally agreed to wear the bright pink sash. The girls convinced you that wearing it might get you a few rounds of drinks on the house, and so far they were correct. When the bartenders weren’t giving you free drinks, bar patrons were eager to treat you to a round after testing out their best pick up lines on the group. You didn’t hate the attention, but you would’ve preferred to be flirting with your husband to be.

You made rounds around the bar, moving between the bar itself and a comfortable table in the corner. Ginny soon convinced the four of you to head out on to the dance floor to let loose a little. You were feeling more than a buzz from the numerous rounds of shots and drinks and thus, you were easily convinced to go dance. Fleur and Angelina seemed to be willing to follow the group, but Hermione was the challenge, acting as your babysitter tonight.

“You all go dance and I’ll sit here and save the table for us,” she offered.

“Hermione….come on. Come have fun with us!” you contested

“Honestly, you all go out. I’ll come join you in a bit.”

You were close to arguing further with her, however Ginny dragged you out on the club floor. Once again, you received looks from all the surrounding gentlemen. You couldn’t blame them, you were a group of good looking ladies. Thankfully, none of the admirers approached you, seeing as most of you were taken. It was then that it occurred to you to check on Hermione. You told the other girls you were grabbing a drink of water and would be back momentarily. Hermione seemed distracted but her face lit up when she saw you approach.

“Hi, are you having a great time?” she asked.

“I am, thank you for putting this all together for me. But I do wish you’d come have fun with us.”

She looked down before responding, “I’ll come join you in a bit.”

You furrowed your brow, “Hermione, is everything all right?”

She looked conflicted, which was unsettling. “It’s fine,” she said unconvincingly. “This is your night, I don’t want to make it about me.”

“So what if it’s my night, you’re upset about something. You’ve put so much work into this for me and I want to make sure you have a good time as well. So get on with it, what’s the matter?”

“I’m not sure it’s necessarily a bad thing, I’m just feeling a little nervous and unsure about things.”

“Is this about Ron?”

“Em, yeah a bit. I mean, things with him are great, better than I expected actually. It’s just…” she hesitated. You put your hand over hers to comfort her. She leaned toward you and whispered into your ear, “I think I might be…pregnant.”

“Hermione,” You responded with a surprised smile on your face. You instinctively wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug. “Is this a good thing?”

She giggled a little, “Yeah, I think so. You’re the first person I’ve told and now thinking about it’s made me very excited.”

“Ron doesn’t know yet?” you asked.

“I haven’t figured out the best way to tell him yet. You know how emotional he gets. I think maybe after the wedding. I don’t want to take away your spotlight.”

“Well I’m extremely excited for you. I promise I won’t tell a soul until you choose to announce it, not even George. And please let me know if you need anything at all.”

“I will, and I’m sorry that this is all coming up tonight. I didn’t mean for it to come out this way.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I just want to make sure you’re having a lovely time as well. Now come join us on the dance floor,” you took her hand and dragged her out to join the remainder of your group. The girls cheered as they saw you returning and you saw Ginny run off to fetch a round of shots.

“Oy, can we get out of here already? Madame Rosmerta’s staring me down…” Ron stated. He had just knocked over a few pints with his drunken storytelling and it was evident Madame Rosmerta was finished with the group’s antics.

“To Diagon Alley?” George suggested. The boys all agreed and they closed out the tab although their tab at the Three Broomsticks was never really settled. They owed Madame Rosmerta so much over the years. They all huddled together outside and apparated to the familiar street George called home. The boys found themselves in front of the shop. The lights inside were out and George could barely see the products lining the wall. He left the light on outside not only to assist him in getting home tonight, but just in case your plans changed and you ended up coming home.

Diagon Alley was bustling, like it had been previously. Except now it was home to more bars than shops. During the dark time, many of the shops closed down. How the joke shop managed to survive was a surprise to everyone. People seemed to need a place to escape and forget about the state of the magical community. They found solace in the joke shop, as well as the bar. Several pubs began popping up along the strip and once those that threatened the magical world were defeated, the pubs stuck around. You and George had made yourselves familiar with many of the bartenders in town, coming out for the occasional nightcap and sharing stories and laughs. It had been a while since George had been out with a rowdy group though. The boys fit right in with the weekend crowd, all witches and wizards letting loose and enjoying each other’s company. George offered to pick up the next round of drinks, despite several protests from his brothers and friends, while the guys found a table big enough to fit the group.

“Well, well, well…look who it is. How are ya, George? What can I get for you tonight?” Salvador asked. He was one of the bartenders you and George were very familiar with at this particular bar. He told you both stories about his experience growing up in the magical realm of Spain.

“Just a pitcher of beer and a handful of glasses,” George ordered. Salvador quickly prepared the pitcher and the stack of glasses.

“What brings you out tonight? You don’t normally make an appearance on a bustling Saturday night.”

“It’s actually my stag night. The boys have dragged me out to get drunk and ogle random women.”

“You don’t say. So no Y/N tonight?”

“Sadly no. Missing her like crazy though.”

“I can imagine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two apart.”

“It happens very seldom. But I’ll survive without her for a few more hours.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“A few weeks from now. It almost seems silly because we basically are married as it is. But we wanted things to be official.”

“Well congratulations my friend! This round is on the house. Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks Sal,” George brought the beer back to the table and felt himself finally starting to get a little bit buzzed. Typically he held his alcohol pretty well, but it wasn’t often that he engaged in binge drinking. This was the first time he felt himself getting drunk in a long time.

After what seemed like hours of dancing and kind strangers buying rounds of drinks, you all settled down at the bar, trying to regain your balance somewhat. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this drunk. You and George were casual drinkers. You had a drink a night, but you never got overly drunk, unless it was a special occasion. And while it was flattering to have all this male attention, you were seriously missing your partner in crime.

Fleur was sitting next to you at the bar and while you were waiting on your next round of drinks, she put her arm on your shoulder and leaned close to you. “Come to the bathroom with me?” she asked.

You nodded and embarked, as the others flirted with the latest round of onlookers. Fleur grabbed your hand and you scurried off. This was unique for you. You and Fleur had always been civil but you wouldn’t say you were ever close. You accepted each other because you realized you would one day be related. The only things you really had in common was your involvement with the Weasleys.

Once in the bathroom, you were alone and you saw Fleur reach for her purse to touch up her makeup.

“Y/N, thank you so much for inviting me. I’m having such a wonderful time and I’m just happy to be a part of this.”

Her sentiment was sweet and your drunken state got the best of you. You gave her a hug and said “Of course Fleur. I’m happy to have you here. Thank you for coming.”

“You and George are completely perfect together. I honestly can’t wait to officially welcome you to the family.”

‘Thank you Fleur. I can’t wait either. Honestly being apart from him tonight has been tough.”

“I understand. I miss Bill too.”

“I wonder what the boys are up to tonight.”

“Oh, they’re in Diagon Alley. At The Den or something like that.”

The Dragon’s Den. It was one of the local bars you and George frequented. You smiled, knowing he was likely having a wonderful time with the boys.

“Y/N, come with me.” She took your hand yet again and a moment later you were apparating. Before you realized what had happened, you were in The Den. Crowds of people were lined around the bar as you stood in the vacant hallway.

“Fleur! We shouldn’t be here!” you whispered through a giggle.

“Nonsense, we’ll only be a moment. Now stay here, out of sight.” She sauntered into the room and you saw her sneak up behind Bill at a high top table. The other guys seemed to be invested in something else and didn’t notice her. She kissed him several times and then whispered in his ear. The two turned toward your direction, with brilliant smiles. Fleur snuck away from Bill as he rejoined the group of guys. You saw him pat George on the shoulder and pull him away from the crowd. Moments later you saw George head your way with a puzzled look on his face. You hid in the hallway so you wouldn’t be spotted and soon enough you felt his presence nearby.

He turned the corner and didn’t notice you right away. He looked like a confused and lost puppy, looking without a purpose.

“Psst…” you finally said to capture his attention. He turned around and his face lit up when he saw you.

“Darling!” he smiled as he picked you up. He planted several kisses on your lips and said, “What are you doing here? You’re breaking the rules! You should be getting drunk with your friends.”

“I’m full of surprises,” was all you offered.

“I’m so happy to see you. I hope you’re having a great time tonight.”

“I am but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you.”

“I missed you too,” he said, kissing you again. “How did you pull this off anyway?” he said, still holding you in his arms.

“It was all Fleur actually. I didn’t even know where she was taking me. Suddenly we apparated and ended up here.”

“Well I’m very glad she snuck you here.”

“Me too,” you smiled up at him. He kissed you some more and it was then you realized he was more than a little drunk. He always got very touchy when he was drinking, which you didn’t mind one bit. He kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear between kisses and you couldn’t stop giggling. You were desperately wishing you could end your night now and head home with George, but you knew soon it would be time to head back to the bar with the girls.

He suddenly pulled away and smiled down at you, “I can’t believe you came here.”

“I didn’t mean to crash your party, but I just missed you so much.”

“I love that you crashed my party,” he said, before kissing you again. You continued kissing for what seemed like mere seconds before you were broken up by Fleur and Bill.

“Alright mate, you’ve had your fun. Y/N better get back to London before anyone notices she’s missing.”

You both pouted as you said quick goodbyes and before you knew it, you were back in the bathroom where you came from.

“Fleur, did you have that whole thing planned?” you asked with a smile.

“Oui,” she smiled and flipped her blonde hair behind her shoulder, “Bill and I both knew you’d want to see each other at some point in the night.”

“That was very thoughtful. Thank you,” you smiled and hugged her. She had surprised you tonight. She was invited as a formality, but she had proved that she knew something about you and what would make you happy.

You quietly returned to your friends, who had barely noticed you were gone. Hermione was perceptive though, and her lack of alcohol didn’t seem to help your case.

“You were gone a while…” she said with a smirk.

“Oh, long line in the bathroom,” you lied with a smile. She nodded, not believing your bullshit, but she didn’t press you any further. You could see her losing steam quickly and you felt the night begin to wind down. You had another drink or two before you collectively embarked back to the hotel. Hermione helped you navigate the unfamiliar streets as you all giggled together and stumbled in your heels. Upon arriving at the hotel you ordered room service and ate your weight in pizza and chips. Hermione, being ever responsible, forced you all to drink water to minimize your hangovers the next morning. You all knew she was preparing a hangover cure for the morning, so you didn’t take her suggestions very seriously. One by one the girls trickled off to bed until it was just you and Ginny. While you had stopped drinking a little while ago, Ginny popped a bottle of champagne for the two of you, even though you hardly needed it.

“Y/N, I can’t wait for you to be my sister.”

“Ginny…” you replied, bringing her in close for a hug.

“My whole life I’ve wanted a sister, and now I have three. Although I never felt too close to Fleur, she's growing on me. And Angelina is such a dear, but tough as nails. She’s lived through the circle of life and she doesn’t complain at all. And then there’s you. You’re so happy go lucky and you bring joy to everyone around you. You’re just so calm and level headed all the time. You handle every situation with such grace. When we were growing up, you were my role model. You were so confident and sure of yourself and that was something I struggled with. I always thought of you as an older sister, even when we weren’t super close. And now I feel like I can finally call you my sister.”

“Ginny, you’ve always been a sister to me. And you know I’ll always be here if you need anything.”

“Thanks for being so great. And thanks for everything you’ve done for George. I don’t know if you realize how happy you make him. He never would’ve gotten through everything without you.”

“That really does mean a lot Gin. I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s made me happier than I could ever imagine.”

The conversation dwindled and you both sauntered off to bed. You changed into one of George’s T-shirts that you had brought with you and crawled into bed. You thought bringing this small piece of George would help you through the night, but it only made things worse. You kept smelling his scent on you and all you wanted was to be wrapped in his arms. You tossed and turned in an attempt to get comfortable but nothing was working. You even turned on the television to try and shift your focus to whatever late night show was on, but it didn’t help. After what seemed like hours you gave up trying to fall asleep. You moved to the common area of the suite in search of something to snack on.

To your surprise, Ang was seated at the table with a pack of biscuits open in front of her and a book in her hand.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked you.

“I can’t remember the last time I slept alone. I thought I might enjoy the extra space but…” you trailed off, unable to vocalize your thoughts. “What about you?”

“I’m okay, I just miss little Freddie. I know Molly’s taking good care of him, but it’s still hard to be away.”

“I hear that…the funny thing is, I was the one who brought this up. George didn’t want to spend the night apart but I insisted because it was tradition. And now I’m regretting it because I miss him laying next to me at night.”

“You should go to him,” she said, passing you a biscuit.

“What?”

“Go home and surprise him. Everyone else is asleep, they won’t mind if you sneak home.”

“It would be kind of fun to surprise him…are you sure?”

“Sure, do what makes you happy. But before you go, let me give you your bachelorette gift.”

“Ang you didn’t have to get me a gift.”

“Oh but of course I did. And now you can get some use out of it tonight.” She brought out a pink box tied with a black bow. You quickly pulled the bow loose and opened the box. Inside was a lacy black bra and matching thong. “I hope you like it. I know you like simplicity so I didn’t want to get you anything that was too much.”

“It’s perfect,” you smiled. You felt the booze come back to you again as you started to feel giddy on the inside. This was unpredictable which was something you weren’t great at. You tried on the lingerie and showed it off to Angelina. She gave you the compliments needed to increase your confidence. You threw on the long trench coat you had brought in case of rain and slipped on the gold heels you had been wearing earlier in the night.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you smiled to yourself in the mirror, as you touched up your hair and makeup. The action wasn’t completely wild, but it was out of character for you. You just kept thinking about how George would react and the thought of being with him brought a smile to your face.

“Go have some fun,” Ang said as she gave you a hug.

‘Thanks for helping me do this.”

“What are sisters for,” she grinned. After one more glance you apparated to Diagon Alley.

You landed outside the shop and unlocked the door, careful to disarm the alarms before they sounded. Once inside, you locked the shop door and walked up the steps to the apartment. You stood at the front door, wondering how to best play this situation out. Even though you had a key to the apartment, you found yourself knocking on the door. George was a light sleeper so even if he was in bed, the knocking would wake him up.

You heard footsteps across the hardwood floor and tried to maintain your composure. The door swung open and you saw George’s tired face try to comprehend what was happening.

“Special delivery,” you said with a coy smile. His tired eyes widened as a grin spread over his face.

“How did I get so lucky,” he smiled at you. A moment later his lips were on yours, kissing you tenderly. You stayed in the doorframe for a moment before he pulled you inside. You managed to pull away for a moment and you pushed him back into the kitchen table.

“Sit,” you instructed. He quickly turned a kitchen chair to face you and sat down. You sauntered across the room and took a deep breath. With your back turned to him you used your wand to turn on the radio in the kitchen, which began to play some slow R&B. You turned around to face George and slowly started to take off the trench coat, first untying the belt then slowly undoing every button, taking a step forward with each button undone. Once the coat was completely unbuttoned, you dropped your shoulders and let it slip to the floor.

You weren’t sure what was coming over you; perhaps it was the last few glasses of champagne you shared with Ginny. You were never one to be overly dominant and in control. But you knew George was enjoying himself. His eyes were locked on you and he was taking in deep breaths. His face gave you the confidence you needed to continue.

You continued toward George and found yourself circling around his chair. You placed your hands delicately on his shoulders and slid your hands down his chest. You planted sweet kisses up his neck, gently sucking on his soft skin. When you reached his ear you tugged on his lobe with your teeth, slowly pulling until his skin slipped through your chiclets.

“Oh Merlin…Y/N…” he whispered.

“Shhh….” you said, placing your finger over his lips. You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before quickly changing positions. You slung your leg across him so that you were straddled across his lap.

You ran your fingers through his ginger hair before tracing his jawline with your knuckles. His hand was gently resting on your waist, but you casually slid it down past your hips, giving him access to your ass. Once again, you moved your lips to his neck and started slowly gyrating your hips on his lap. He tightened his grip on your backside and you moved from his neck to his lips. He quickly accepted your tongue into his mouth and you could taste his hunger, but you wanted to make sure you prolonged this experience for him. You slowly pulled away as he looked longingly at you. You failed to hide the sly smile that was slowly spreading across your face. You quickly unhooked your bra and gracefully flung it to the side. George let out a deep breath and you took that as a sign to continue. You pulled his shirt over his head and planted kisses down his neck and chest. You carefully slid down off his lap and knelt on the ground as you fished out his member from his sweatpants. You began massaging his shaft with your hand before taking him into your mouth. You heard him exhale, clearly enjoying himself as you continued to pleasure him. George was typically a giver in bed, so he wasn’t used to having all the attention on him. You only hoped he was enjoying himself and that you made him feel special. After a series of moans, George ran his fingers through your hair and pulled you up towards him. He placed you back on his lap and cupped your face in his hand.

“What are you doing to me, Y/N?” he said with a smile on his face.

“I just want to give you a stag night that you’ll never forget.”

“Well you are certainly succeeding,” he said, planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“And now we are going to move to the bedroom where we will make love for the rest of the night.” You kissed him on the lips and stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. Before you could lead him toward the bedroom, he picked you up so that you were facing him with your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs wrapped around his torso. He quickly found your lips and carried you toward the bedroom with a sense of urgency.

“That was…wild,” George said, catching his breath. Your head was resting on his chest and you were struggling to breathe regularly.

“That’s a good way to put it,” you muttered. He chuckled lightly before tightening his embrace around your bare shoulder.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he said, kissing your forehead.

“Just three short weeks until I can call you my husband.”

“That is entirely too long.”

“Would it be crazy if we got married tomorrow?” You were kind of spewing off without thinking, but after you spoke you started considering this more and more.

He let out a big sigh, “Y/N, we’ve had this conversation before. I know you don’t want a small wedding.”

“Okay, but hear me out. We can still have the party and the wedding we planned out with everyone. But we’ll just already be married. It’ll be like our little secret.”

“You seriously want to do this?” he asked.

“I don’t want to wait anymore. And then this way it takes some of the pressure off of the big day. Who cares if things don’t go perfectly. We’ll already be married.”

“I’m having a hard time coming up with a counter argument.”

“Do you want to marry me tomorrow?” you asked. You sensed some hesitation from him and you wanted to ensure this was something he wanted.

“Y/N, I’ve wanted to marry you since the day we met. I don’t care what kind of wedding we have, as long as you’re happy. Is this something you really want?”

“Yes. I want to marry you tomorrow and I want it to be our little secret. This is for us, not for everyone else.”

“If that’s what you want then that’s what we’ll do. Although, I will check in with you tomorrow morning to make sure you haven’t changed your mind.”

“I can tell you right now, I’m not changing my mind.” George shifted underneath you and then moments later he was on top of you, squeezing you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and planted sweet kisses on his neck.

He popped his head up and looked in your eyes, “I really love you.”

You pecked him on the lips, “I really love you too.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins fanfic #hp fanfic #george weasley x you

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headcanonsandmore · 3 years

Text

‘Here with you’

Summary: Ron and Hermione spent some time together in a hotel room in Australia.

This fic is a birthday present for @princesserica84; hope you like it, Erica! Happy Birthday!

Warning: this fic contains scenes of a s*xual nature and is not ace safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron opened the door, and stepped through.

He had never stayed in a muggle hotel before, but he thought this was rather nice. A nice wardrobe, table, and set of chairs.

And a double bed.

Hurriedly moving his mind away from that, Ron noticed a door off to the side, through which he could see a nice bath and shower set. A set of fluffy white towels were hanging on the wall.

‘Be nice to finally relax after all that travelling, eh?’ he said, turning around.

‘Yes,’ Hermione said quietly, as she locked the door behind her, before kicking off her shoes and sitting down in the chair. From her beaded bag, she pulled her notes regarding the various dental clinics in the area.

‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Ron said, taking them swiftly out of her hands. ‘You’ve been staring at those nonstop for the past six hours; you need to relax.’

‘Ron, I’m perfectly fine-’

‘Oh, then you won’t want to take a bath with those lovely scented bubble-bath mixtures we’ve got in the bathroom?’

Hermione seemed to wrestle with her own internal logic, before giving in.

‘Okay, but just a quick bath,’ she said, easing her socks off to reveal very tired-looking feet.

‘Good,’ Ron said, before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. The bushy-haired witch blushed.

‘Why are you so good at this?’ she asked.

‘I know you too well. You focus too much on other stuff, and forget to look after yourself.’

Hermione sighed, before kissing Ron on the cheek.

‘You’re too good to me.’

‘Nah,’ Ron said. ‘You deserve the best. Now, go and have that bath. There’ll be a test on which combination of bubble bath you used.’

Hermione chuckled, before pulling her toiletries out of her beaded bag and hobbling into the bathroom. The door shut with a quiet click behind her.

Ron busied himself with unpacking. Partially because it would save time later, and partially because he wanted to avoid thinking of the fact that Hermione hadn’t locked the bathroom door.

He sat down on the bed, before deciding that he didn’t want to seem like he was presuming anything, and sat down at the table instead.

Him and Hermione had been dating for a few months. The war had only ended earlier that summer, and Hermione would be going back to Hogwarts to continue her education that September. As much as he knew how much it meant to her, he wasn’t looking forward to not being able to see her so often. If he was lucky, he’d been meeting her on the occasional Hogsmeade weekend until the holidays. He knew that was selfish, but he’d spent several years at Hogwarts pining after Hermione, only to find that when they had finally become a couple, he’d be seeing her less than he’d ever done before.

And, no, it wasn’t just the fact that he wouldn’t get to kiss her, either. She was his best friend; he loved spending time with her, even if it was just sitting quietly with her while she read a book or studied.

Their relationship was still very new, and they were both still adjusting to it. Ron was absolutely terrified that he was going to mess it up in some way. What if it ended like it had done with poor Lavender? But the other way round; what if Hermione got sick of him? He honestly didn’t know whether he could handle that. He’d been in love with her since he was… eleven? Twelve? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he wasn’t sure when he moved beyond seeing Hermione as purely his platonic best friend.

Ron looked down at the room key, which was laid on the table. Their shared room. With the double bed.

Ron swallowed nervously. When they’d been planning this all out, they’d never really discussed that they would be sharing a room. Granted, they had spent most of the previous year sharing a tent, but that had been different. For one thing, that was during the war, and Harry had been there as well.

Now it was just Ron and Hermione. In a room together. With one bed between them.

Deciding that not thinking about it would be a better idea, Ron moved his attention to Hermione’s notes.

She was understandably very concerned about her parents, and wanted to return their memories to them as soon as possible. Ron could also tell that Hermione felt an enormous amount of guilt over the fact that she had memory-charmed her parents in the first place. And, as much as he didn’t like to think about it, Ron was worried about how Mr and Mrs Granger would react once they discovered what Hermione had done to them.

All Ron knew was, he was here to help and support Hermione as best he could. He’d be with her through anything that might happen.

Normally, when people met their girlfriends parents for the first time, it’s not accompanying her to reverse a memory-altering spell. But Ron’s life had never really been “normal”, had it?

There was the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Hermione walked out, and Ron’s brain seemed to turn to mush.

She was wearing nothing but a large white towel, which covered everything between her armpits and her knees. Another towel was trapped around her hair. Ron could make out beads of water dripping down her neck.

Not seeming to notice Ron’s unabashed staring, Hermione picked up her notes from the table and sat down on the bed. Her forehead creased in concentration.

‘No,’ Ron said, walking over and picking the notes out of her hands. ‘Your eyes need a rest.’

‘I’m fine, Ron,’ Hermione said, huffily. ‘That bath was a great idea; I’m all good now.’

‘What you need is to relax,’ Ron said. ‘Remember what you were like during our O.W.L exams? You wouldn’t have eaten or slept if me and Harry hadn’t kept reminding you to.’

‘But I… well, I have to…’

‘We’re here in Australia, Hermione. You don’t need to worry; we’ll start searching tomorrow after we’re good and rested.’

‘But what if we can’t find my parents?!’ Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide and frantic. ‘What if I reverse the spell wrong? What if they hate me for doing the memory charm in the first place? What if-’

‘Ssssh,’ Ron said, soothingly. ‘Hermione, you need to calm down. You’re getting yourself all worked up. You’ll be no good to your parents if you’ve having a panic attack.’

‘But what if they-’

‘We’ll deal with that if we reach that hurdle,’ Ron replied, calmly. ‘No good worrying about things that might not even happen.’

‘How are you so calm?’

‘Because I’m your boyfriend, and I’m here for you.’

He reached forward to hug her, but Hermione stood up and walked away.

Ron’s heart seemed to stop. This wasn’t good. Normally, Hermione welcomed hugs from him, even if she felt bad. Her not wanting physical contact with him meant… that she didn’t want to be close to him at all.

‘H-Hermione?’

Hermione turned. She had her hands over her mouth, but he could just see her lower lip quivering.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s just…’ Hermione’s voice quavered. ‘What… what will happen when you get bored of me?’

Ron stared at her in confusion.

‘What? Bored of you? How do you-’

‘I’m not good with people!’ Hermione exclaiming, her eyes beginning to bead with tears. ‘I don’t know how to be in a relationship! I’ve already been beastly to you in the past; what if I do something that makes you lose interest completely?!’

‘I won’t get bored of you!’ Ron replied, guiding her back to the bed and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket for her to use. ‘Hermione, how long have I known you? Since we were eleven. I’ve been hanging around you for years. I-’

‘Not as my boyfriend, though!’ Hermione wailed, blowing her nose. ‘I’ve b-been pining for you for years, and… oh, R-Ron, I just know I’m going to mess things up! I’m terrified I’ll do something worse than those g-godforsaken birds, and you’ll be done with me forever!’

‘No, you won’t,’ Ron said, cradling her head softly in his hands, before kissing her on the forehead. ‘Hermione, I’m just as scared of messing things up between us.’

‘Y-you are?’ Hermione asked, tearily looking up at him. ‘B-but why?’

‘Because I’ve been pining after you for years.’

‘R-really? Y-you mean that?’

Ron nodded.

‘I do. Hermione, I love you.’

There was a brief silence.

Then, before Ron knew quite what was happening, Hermione had launched herself at him and was kissing him hard on the mouth. Her hands wrapped round his shoulders, pressing her firmly against him.

Staggering backwards, Ron collapsed onto the bed. Hermione continued her fierce kissing, letting out soft moans against his lips as she did so. With a shock, Ron realised that the towel covering her was a lot thinner than he had expected. He could… feel certain parts of Hermione pressing into him.

Hermione eventually pulled back, her breathing heavy and her lips now slightly enflamed.

‘Do… do you mean that?’ she breathed, her face barely an inch from his. ‘Do… do you really love me?’

Still in shock from her passion, Ron nodded.

‘Y-yeah,’ he mumbled. ‘Have done for years. Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-’

‘I love you too, Ron,’ Hermione whispered, her brown eyes warm. ‘I… I have done for so long, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t brave enough to say it until now.’

‘Really?’

Hermione nodded.

Ron pressed his lips to hers, gently.

‘How am I this lucky?’

‘What, because I’m lying on top of you naked aside from a towel-’

‘Hermione Granger!’ Ron laughed, feeling his ears burn. ‘Who would have thought you were such a saucy witch?’

‘Is that a problem, Ron Weasley?’ She said, pressed herself closer to him. ‘Feels to me like you aren’t complaining at all-’

With a husky growl, Ron flipped Hermione onto her back, and pressed his lips to hers once again. This time, his passion was far stronger, and he heard Hermione moan happily against his lips.

Breathlessly, Hermione pulled away.

‘Y-you’re definitely not complaining,’ she grinned, her chest heaving.

‘Not at all,’ Ron replied, smiling down at her. ‘Are you? I’m not going to push you if you don’t want to-’

‘I want to,’ Hermione said. ‘Now, hurry up.’

‘With what?’

The bushy-haired witch’s eyes burned with a look Ron had never seen before.

As Ron stared down at her in wonder, Hermione loosened her towel and unwrapped it.

‘Wow…’

Hermione’s cheeks flushed.

‘Was that an approving “wow”?’

‘Definitely,’ Ron breathed. ‘You’re bloody gorgeous, love.’

Hermione smiled.

‘Well… aren’t you going to join me?’

Grinning widely, Ron pulled his t-shirt over his head in one movement. Hermione gave an approving smile as his muscles flexed.

A few second later, his shorts and boxers were discarded too.

‘Wow…’ Hermione said, smiling. ‘God, this is an even better view that how I imagined it might be.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ Ron said, as he slid down on the mattress. ‘Oh, hang on a second-’

Summoning his wand from the table, Ron cast the contraceptive charm, which left both their bodies with a warm purple glow before fading.

‘Was that a non-verbal summon?’ Hermione asked, as Ron dropped his wand next to his clothes.

‘Trust you to get turned on by spellwork,’ Ron chuckled, beginning to press kisses to her thighs.

‘I am not!’ Hermione exclaimed, giggling. ‘I just appreciate the effort, that’s-oooohhhh…’

Ron grinned, as he began to explore her centre. Hermione was breathing heavily, her eyes had fluttered shut, and her skin was beginning to become covered in sweat. Which, given what Ron was currently doing, was a good sign.

He had obviously never done this sort of thing before, but that was okay. Neither of them had. All Ron knew was that he wanted Hermione to feel as good as possible. Remembering some tips from the “Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches” book, his hands began to roam softly around her body, exploring areas that he had spent most of his adolescence trying not to ever think about.

Judging from the sounds Hermione began to make, she wasn’t complaining.

‘Ron… please…’ Hermione said, and Ron looked up at her. Her face was tender and her voice was pleading. ‘I need you…’

‘Are… are you sure?’

‘Yes, Ron. P-please…’

Scrambling up the bed, Ron lay down with her, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

‘Merlin…’ he moaned, as he cradled her close to him. ‘Hermione, I love you so much.’

‘I… I love you too, Ron,’ Hermione whispered. ‘God… oh… Ron…’

Ron could already feel his self-control beginning to strain. But he clearly wasn’t the only one. Hermione’s legs were now pressing around him, as she pulled him closer to her. Her eyes had fluttered shut again.

‘G-gonna…’

‘O-okay,’ Hermione gasped, gazing up at him. ‘Do it…Ron…’

Ron moved one last time, and lay still, their bodies still entwined.

‘That was…’

‘Brilliant,’ she finished, smiling at him.

Ron lay down on the mattress next to her, and the two of them lay, their breathing returning to normal.

‘Really? I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t go on for-’

‘There’s always a next time,’ Hermione said. ‘Besides, we’ve got the rest of our lives to get… more acquainted with each other’s rhythms.’

‘That’s true. Did I at least… help you… y’know?’

Hermione blushed.

‘Well, yes.’

‘Oh, really?’ Ron said, grinning. ‘Well, probably just due to the build-up of everything, I expect, but I’ll take what I can get.’

Hermione giggled.

‘Do most men get excited about that?’

‘Only the smart ones.’

Hermione cuddled into Ron’s side. Her face was peaceful, and she put an arm across Ron’s stomach, hugging him closely.

‘You’re wonderful, Ron,’ she said, softly. ‘Truly. I couldn’t imagine I’d ever be lucky enough to have you.’

Ron felt his ears pinken under her praise.

‘And I know you always try to brush it off when people praise you,’ she continued, giving him a knowing look. ‘So just humour me, okay? No comments about how you’re nothing special. Because you are special. In more ways that you could possibly imagine.’

‘I love you,’ Ron said, kissing her on the forehead. ‘So much.’

‘I love you too,’ she said, smiling as she nuzzled into his side. ‘Thank you for being here with me, Ron.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

The two of them smiled, before drowsiness finally overcame them, and they drifted off, their breathing soft as they lay together. In the morning, they would be looking for Mr and Mrs Granger but, in the meantime, they had each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you liked it!

#not ace safe #saucy #warning- strong language #romione #ronmione #tw: sex #tw: s*x #tw: allusions to sex #tw: mentions of nudity #harry potter fanfiction #romione fanfiction #romione fanfic #princesserica84 #lemon

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whack-ed · 4 years

Text

Between (Fred Weasley x Slytherin Reader) - Part 2

PART 1

Synopsis: Y/N Y/L/N never quite understood why all these things always happen to her. Nobody understood why she was put in Slytherin. But in her fifth year at Hogwarts, many things were cleared up. Your parents, your friends and also, that one should not be named, all these things explained the why. Her blood was stained, but she could not disagree more with the philosophies that made it like this. Between blood and love. Y/N had to make a choice.

Warnings: angsty; flirty.

Reader: Female

Words Count: 2.6k

Author's Notes: I'm sorry for taking so long to post this chapter, now I promise I'll try to post a new one every Wednesday. And of course, if you want to be taged in the next chapter, just reblog this! Also, get a little inspiration from The Riot by @ickle-ronniekins, a amazing imagine from a amazing writer.

Finally the vacation was over, Y/N could be one of the few witches from that school who was happy to return to Hogwarts. The girl couldn't stand to spend another day at her home. Her parents had been getting more and more rigid since the Malfoys' visit, what Narcissa said made them think about how they were raising their daughter. And overnight, Y/N was forbidden to talk about her friends who were not pureblood, and along with this rule came some amendments, which included not being able to put pictures of them in her room, or send letters. Family dinners became a must, and at every dinner, there was always a topic about blood responsibilities and how important it was. The girl had been so irritated by her parents' attitudes that even Cedric's death prevented her from starting discussions with them. There were several during the weeks that passed until classes returned.

Y/N will never tidy up her stuff as much as she does now. The girl angrily stuffed her things into the suitcase. The reason was a comment from his cousin about Muggle-borns and how a pureblood wizard could have the courage to marry one. It seemed to Y/N that the frequency of commentary on this sort of thing had increased near her. She put her green scarf inside the suitcase, and then closed it. She had just finished packing all her things, she was ready to leave her home as soon as possible. Only Brownie was missing, her dark brown owl. The girl chose this name because she found the word play between the color of her owl and the food funny, since good, if one thing her owl liked to do was eat. Then Y/N went down the stairs towards the owlery at the bottom of her house, near the greenhouse.

"Where are you going?" Y/N heard her older cousin, Margot, calling. The girl had brown eyes and long, dark blonde hair, all in a very thin and very tall body, and now she was in her seventh year at Hogwarts, Slytherin too. Y/N always thought that her cousin was a bastard daughter of her uncle Hanz. Considering that his uncle had brown hair and his wife, Amelia, was a redhead, but he always preferred not to comment on the matter. "Going to feed the muggles that I hide from you in the basement" Y/N replied sarcastically without even looking at her cousin and went on her way to the owlery. As it was beginning to get dark, any light that was on was easily noticeable, so Y/N couldn't help seeing the stove lights on. The only person who went to that place was Grandma Harriet. And without thinking twice, he changed his course a little and entered the greenhouse. The place had a high rounded glass roof and followed a straight corridor, also made of glass, for at least 20 meters.

- Grandmother? - Y/N asked curiously entering the greenhouse.

- Close to the aconite, honey - A voice came from the bottom of the greenhouse.

Y/N walked to the place where her grandmother kept the aconite. Grandma Harriet was a very superstitious lady, in her granddaughter's opinion, she read The Quibbler a lot. So inside the greenhouse, she had plants to fight any kind of threats, from a huge craving for pumpkin juice, to a dangerous werewolf.

- Grandma, the only werewolf I've ever seen was not exactly what you could call bad people. - Y/N said when the grandmother goes to prune the seedlings of aconite (plant that leaves a tame werewolf).

- Worry is never too much, when will you understand that, Y/N? - Grandma replied without taking her eyes off the plant with a half smile on her face.

Y/N didn't answer anything, just crossed her arms and laughed through her nose.

- You know my love, I noticed that you are more impatient than usual lately - The grandmother said finally looking at her granddaughter.

- Yeah, I believe I am more out of patience than usual - Y/N replied sitting on one of the wooden stools nearby.

- Can you tell me why?

- Isn't it obvious, Grandma? Look how my parents are acting! As if having no muggle in the family makes us better than others! As if muggles were disgusting people! I don't understand, I don't agree, and I'm very, very angry! Damn it, Grandma! One of my best friends was born muggle! - Y/N calmed down and took a breath before speaking. - I'm not like our family, Grandma ... Right? I'm not, right? - She took a deep breath again - I know I'm not, but ... I was put in the Slytherin ... What does that mean?!

Grandma Harriet smiled sweetly, she was, until then, the only Hufflepuff of the family, since the first of her at Hogwarts, when the first Y/L/N was drawn in a house that was not a Slytherin, they practically aborted the girl of the family.

- A very wise man once told me that it is our choices that reveal who we really are, much more than our qualities. You know Y/N, you were drawn in the Slytherin, not because of the blood, but because you are selfish, a little manipulative, you go over everyone to get what you want and you can be quite cold.

- Thank you very much for the part that touches me. - Y/N replied sarcastically.

- Did I say sarcastic? - The two laughed - But you are also ambitious, you are not afraid to take risks, you are a born leader, and we know very well that you have a certain appreciation for breaking the rules. You are not bad, my love, you are by far the most admirable person in this family. You know what your faults are, and knowing that, you choose to go against your own nature, because you know that it is not always the best thing to do. This shows me how amazing you are and you couldn't be in another house.

Y/N couldn't hide the smile that went from ear to ear. That was why Grandma Harriet was the most knowledgeable person in this family.

***

Y/N had been on platform 9 3/4 for a while. She always arrived 20 minutes in advance, she thought it was safer, she didn't want to risk missing the train and not being able to go to school. Then, passing by the station wall, she saw the scene that she loved so much, parents saying goodbye to their children, several owl cages and cats passing by people's legs, first years with sparkles in their eyes. The first year was the part that she liked most of all, it is no wonder that Y/N was a Slytherin monitor. In the sea of black cloaks she managed to spot a short girl with armed hair, she knew exactly who she was. And she didn't think twice before running towards her friend.

- Hermione! - Y/N just screamed out of everyone there.

Hermione looked back to see her friend running with a huge smile on her face. He was happy to see that Y/N had not died during the holidays, as she simply stopped responding to her owls.

- Y/N! Where have you been? Didn't you receive my letters anymore? - Hermione said hugging her friend.

- Oh Mione, you have no idea how things are at home, my parents are still going to kill me smothered - She laughed letting go of her friend.

- Wow, Y/N, is it that bad?

- You have no idea.

The two had continued to talk while searching for the cabin where Harry and Ron were. The boys had come in earlier to get a good cabin. The two found them and sat down together, Y/N on Harry's side and Hermione on Ron's side, facing each other. The trip started as usual, Hermione talking about the new books, Harry very quiet, probably due to the events of last year and Ron? He stuffed himself with chocolate frogs. Y/N was listening to her friend while drinking a pumpkin juice that her grandmother had given her before leaving. It was all very common, until a couple of red-haired boys hurried down the hall and locked themselves in the cabin of the four.

- What is this?! - Ron said very angry because the knocking of the twins on the floor made him drop his chocolates.

- We threw a stink bomb in the cabin of some Slytherin boys - said George.

- And they are not very happy with the result - Completed Fred, now looking at Y/N, well, she was a Slytherin - No offense.

- I'm not offended, most of them deserve it - The girl laughed when she saw 3 huge slytherin boys very angry pass through the corridor.

- You are perfect, you know? - Fred completed smiling at the girl.

"I know," Y/N replied with a wink. Everyone felt something strange in the cabin, and it definitely wasn't the stink of the twins' bomb.

- Did you hear the rumors about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? - Said Hermione.

- All I know is that the Ministry has been boiling after Dumbledore since ... - George started to say but did not want to be inconvenient with Harry or Y/N.

- Okay, you can tell what happened, everyone already knows the truth - Harry replied George somewhat dryly.

- Well, I heard that the ministry is going to send someone inside to Hogwarts this time. - Hermione concluded.

- I really hope not, Fudge is not what we can call a sensible person, he just denies the facts! - Y/N replied.

- I agree with you, Y/N, but I don't think Dumbledore would let anyone like that in - Ron replied, placing the last chocolate frog inside.

- That is not in his reach, Ron, as much as he is director, he still reports to the Ministry.

Sometimes Y/N was impressed about how much her friend knew. Not that what she said is absurd, but she speaks so naturally ... The girl was left wondering how breakfast conversations should be at her friend's house.

***

The rest of the way was as usual, unfortunately they had to split up when it was time to sit at the tables. Y/N then sat at the Slytherin table, alone, and in less than 5 minutes a blond boy and his entire troupe sat next to Y/N. The selection started, Y/N was happy to receive the new Slytherin students, especially one girl in particular who reminded her very much of herself. She had Y/H/C hair and Y/H/Cut, the only thing that differentiated Y/N from the girl, were the green eyes that the little one had, Y/N's eyes were Y/E/C, pulled from her mother. The two would easily pass for sisters. The ceremony followed, and it turns out that Hermione was right, Dumbledore introduced the new member of the teaching staff, a short, fat lady dressed in pink, who they discovered was Dolores Umbridge. She worked for the Ministry of Magic. Y/N was not much with the woman's face, she had a bad feeling about her.

At the Gryffindor table the feelings were the same, none of Y/N’s friends had liked the new teacher very much. But the thoughts of one of them were a little further away. Fred couldn't stop looking at Y/N, the two had been friends for years, ever since the girl entered Hogwarts, but this year, she had something different, she couldn't explain what it was.

- She will end up thinking that you will curse her if you continue to look at her like that, Fred - said George taking a piece of chicken.

- What? I ... Ah, I can't say, she is different this year, George - He finally answered stopping to face the girl and putting food on his plate.

- Yeah, she’s beautiful.

- Yeah ...She is, but that's not it yet. She looks ... distant. We have to do something, brother.

When dinner was over, Y/N was ready to escort her group of first year students to the common room. Leaving the room and heading towards the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room was located, Y/N was guiding the newcomers when Fred and George stopped her halfway.

- Darling, we have something for you - Fred said with a huge smile on his face.

- I think you will have to deliver me later, I'm kind of busy here - Said the girl pointing to the various little faces in front of her.

- How could I not notice before! George, we are facing customers right here - Fred smiled at the children in front of him.

- You are certain, my dear brother.

That said, the twins made as much propaganda as they could about their magic and different sweets, the children heard in wonder about the sweets that the boys talked about. Y/N has always admired how the twins had this gift, of making anything look enchanted. They spoke with passion.

- And I swear, it leaves you with pears to skip class! - George finished saying while Y/N waited.

- Can I take them to the common room now? - Y/N said impatient, or at least trying to pretend her best impatient face.

- Now ... You can, we'll give you your gift later. - George said. - Come on, Fred?

- Come on, George - Fred replied. - Ah, I almost forgot! - The redhead said and went to Y/N and kissed her on the cheek. - See you tomorrow, love.

Y/N was a little unresponsive, not what she felt when Fred gave her a simple kiss bye. The children giggled and some whispered things that Y/N couldn't understand. After the beautiful propagation of the Weasley twins, the girl finally took the children to the common room, and told them the password. Entering, the girl watched the faces of the children, it was always incredible to see her reaction when she saw that the windows looked out on the lake. He showed her where the female and male dorms were, and finally sat down in front of the fireplace, her job as a prefect was over.

“A lot of mess?” Y/N heard a familiar voice sit beside her on the couch.

- Not as much as I would like. - she replied, looking into Draco's beautiful gray eyes. - But the most beloved twins at this school did their advertising, and now the first year boys are dying to eat the gum that never ends.

Draco frowned, he didn't like the twins.

- I know you don't like them, Draco, but I do, they are amazing and very talented people - The girl continued to say looking at the friend beside her.

- They think Muggles are like us, Y/N! - Draco said impatiently without looking directly at his friend, stood up. - That's not how your parents raised you! You better than anyone should understand this! - The boy said and left his friend very angry and disappeared from view.

Y/N didn't understand, didn't understand why Draco was so submissive to his parents. The fact that the boy didn't argue with them, even when he didn't agree, drove her crazy. But no one, not even Draco Malfoy, spoke to her like that. The girl didn't wait twice and went up to her dorm, probably angrier than her friend. He lay in bed in anger that night. Who does he think he was to speak that way? Spoiled boy ... Fred would never do such a thing. Wait ...Fred? Since when did she compare Draco to Fred?.

***

@nebulablakemurphy @kpopgirlbtssvt @idontknowwhatthisisfam @janieavalos

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ehrhys · 4 years

Text

The Phoenix Court: Ch 1

Dramione Medieval Fantasy AU

Rating: M for later chapters

Summary:

A long standing tradition in the kingdom of Alban is for royal heirs to be chosen from amongst the Alban noble houses. Presumptive heirs are fostered by the king at his court and the heir is chosen at the formal event, the Declaration. Two rival princes vie for the throne, and a young woman arrives at court to seek knowledge. Will ambitions be realized and love grow while enemy kingdoms and civil war threaten to tear the kingdom of Alban apart?

When Hermione’s father is given the position of advisor to King Albus Dumbledore, the Grangers come to court. Hermione hopes to find a teacher to help her master the magical arts, but she must balance her dreams with the ambitions her family has for her.

Prince Draco hopes to become the heir to Alban’s royal house and spends his time honing himself to become the perfect successor to the throne. Familial pressure and his own ambitions drive himself to succeed in The Declaration, but one obstacle stands in his way, his rival Prince Harry.

LINKS: FF.NET & AO3

“Hermione, sweeting, stop fussing with your skirt! You’re going to wrinkle your dress!” Lady Granger said. Hermione’s mother swatted at her daughter’s hands in impatience. “We have finally come to court, this is your chance to impress and beguile.” Hermione didn’t stop though, if anything her mother’s word only agitated her more. Hermione had been overjoyed when her father returned home, victorious from war and with news of his promotion. The Grangers were minor nobles and her father had been given a position as an advisor to King Albus Dumbledore in thanks for his contributions to the war against the enemy kingdom of Mordurm. With that new position came many benefits, a place for the Granger’s at court, new titles, and most importantly for Hermione, the chance to find a master who could continue her training in the magical arts.

Hermione’s initial excitement had begun to give way to nerves now that she had been at the palace for a few days and her mother’s talk of the princes and of social climbing were too much for her to bear. Tonight King Albus would be holding a banquet and ball. The thought of mixing with so many nobles and influential courtiers had Hermione’s stomach in knots. Her mother’s constant efforts to “help” her daughter prepare for the festivities only agitated Hermione further. In this moment, Lady Granger seemed to realize her efforts had gone too far and she sighed and clasped her daughter’s hands in her own.

“My sweeting,” Lady Granger said, “Stop fussing. You have grown into a lovely and intelligent young woman.”

At this Hermione gave her mother a ghost of a smile. Lady Granger let go of her daughters hands and lovingly smoothed over Hermione’s skirt. Once she was satisfied, she stepped back to admire her daughter, “You will be a shining star at court. No one can match you, daughter. Surely you will catch the eye of the Potter heir.”

“He’s not the heir yet, My Lady” Lord Granger said, the mention of the heir piquing his interest, “The Declaration has not yet been made. Either of the princes still have an equal chance of winning the throne.”

Lady Granger tutted with impatience, “I love you, My Lord, but you are more blind than most. Everyone knows that our king favors Prince Harry. The boy is hardly away from the King’s side.”

“Prince Harry is a fine young man, skilled in battle and the people have much love for him, but Prince Draco is not to be put aside. The house of Malfoy is old and powerful and his abilities in the arcane arts are formidable. He is a — er — dragon on the battlefield.” Lord Granger said, proud of himself and his pun. He winked mischievously at his daughter.

Lady Granger rolled her eyes and playfully swatted her husband’s arm. “Dragon or no, skill in battle does not mean skill in governance.”

Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, she didn’t want to hear her parents debate about the Declaration or the Princes again. She decided to quickly sideline the conversation, “Mother, I am not you. What if I don’t want to marry the heir or marry at all?”

Her mother completely froze, and squinted at her daughter in mock disgust, “I know you are saying those words to provoke me, and I will not comment.” And with those words the budding argument was forgotten as Lady Granger left the sitting room to deal with her next task elsewhere.

Hermione felt too riled up to go back to her reading so she paced about the room, inspecting the fireplace and admiring the intricate carvings on the walls. Scenes of dancing nymphs frolicking in the sun were rendered with precise detail. Hermione admired the artistry, tracing her hands along the figure of a nymph halfway between turning from a tree into a woman.

She thought over her mother’s words and knew her ambitions were not misplaced. The current king did not care for social status and instead chose to surround himself with advisors who impressed him with their wit, magical abilities, and prowess in war; regardless of their social standing. Minor nobles like the Grangers could find easy paths to power with such a king.

Hermione found herself thinking of the possibilities of what could be accomplished with the new honors and titles given to her father for his achievements in the war. She had more planned for her life than simply marrying well. Her father, himself an amateur scholar, had impressed upon Hermione the value of knowledge. She eagerly devoured the books at Granger manor and her tutors had nothing but praise for her progress. Above all, Hermione was gifted in magic, the very skill the king prized, and she hoped to find a master at court to help her grow beyond the knowledge contained at the Granger home, Greenwood castle.

She and her mother were thrilled with the idea of coming to court but for different reasons, while Lady Granger thrived on the fantasy of moving up in the world, Hermione longed to master secrets of magic. Secrets that she hoped the scholars of King Albus’s court would someday teach to her. The famed alchemist Nicholas Flamel was a patron of the crown, as well as the skilled potioneers Severus Snape and Horace Slughorn. Most impressive to Hermione was the formidable sorceress Minerva McGonagall who had mastered the ability to transfigure herself into every manner of magical and non-magical creature.

To Hermione, the court was a place of endless possibilities where she could pursue her desires while still being an obedient daughter to her parents. She would marry well, but it would be on her terms. She would find someone smart who valued her intelligence, someone who wouldn’t control her, and of course someone whom she loved and loved her in return. Her parents had been lucky to marry for love when so many marriages were made to advance families. All she knew was a family of love and she felt she could only be true to herself if she could live in love.

Her mother’s happy voice broke her musings as Hermione was called into her parent’s bed chamber. Her mother ushered her over to the bed where a fine gown of ocean blue silk had been laid out. Hermione had never seen a gown so beautiful. The intricate floral embroidery and lace that bordered the bodice, coupled with the delicate silver beads that trailed down the sleeves took her breath away. “A gift for you, my sweeting, to wear to tonight’s banquet.” Lady Granger said beaming.

“Thank you, mama,” Hermione said as she embraced her mother, kissing her on the cheek. Lady Granger called for her lady’s maid to come and dress Hermione and style her hair. By the time the Granger’s were ready to join the banquet, Hermione’s nerves were long forgotten, replaced once again by the excitement of the upcoming night.

@@@@@

Hogwarts castle’s great hall was filled with a throng of nobles and warriors all dressed in their finery. Tonight marked a hard won peace deal with the neighboring kingdom of Mordurm. Their kingdom, Alban, had come out as the victor in the war, having taken several castles and fertile farming grounds from the Mordurm. King Gellert Grindlewald, the sovereign of Mordurm, had lost his nephew and heir in the most recent battle, and if the rumors were to be believed, the enemy king was so distraught that the will to fight had left him. Most people scoffed at the tale, Grindlewald was feared as a cruel ruler even amongst his own people. He craved power and certainly wouldn’t take the loss of his heir and lands quietly. Hermione felt that whatever reason for peace, it couldn’t last, but she pushed the negative thoughts from her mind at the sight of the celebration.

Hermione marveled at the artistry of the great hall. Elegant stone pillars carved into the shapes of lions, eagles, snakes, and badgers, the emblems of the founders of Alban, lined the expanse of the hall. The tables were arranged around a large hearth at the center of the hall that filled the room with smoky warmth and light. From Hermione’s position at a side table, she could see the King seated at the head table with the princes on either side of him. The king was deep in conversation with his son to the right, which Hermione assumed was Prince Harry because of his dark hair. The pair laughed merrily, seemingly unaware of the rest of the court seated around them. The other prince, Draco, spoke to a stout, ruddy faced man to his left. The stout man drank deeply from his goblet before letting out a laugh, clearly enjoying his conversation with the prince. The prince returned his companions' mirth with a polite smile.

Dinner passed quickly. Many sumptuous dishes made their way to the banquet, pottage, venison, and a main course of an ornately arranged pheasant stuffed with apples, walnuts, and plums. An array of dessert tarts and pasties followed soon after. Hermione savored each bite, eating until she felt as stuffed as the pheasant.

Once the banquet ended, the ball began. The court moved to a second hall as large as the first. Hermione was captivated by the enchanted ceiling that mirrored the sky outside. Tonight a full moon shone upon the revelers, not a single cloud passed by all night.

Lively music began, and courtiers gathered in groups to participate in the dance. Hermione found herself in a dancing circle flanked by two young men, one with a pleasant round face and another with angular but handsome features. As a new song began, the group joined hands and danced around in a circle skipping and hopping to the beat. Around and around they spun, Hermione threw her head back in delighted laughter. Oh, how nice it was to come to court. She could dance under the moon forever.

Some time during the song the circle broke to form a line that weaved around the dance floor. Hermione, the round faced boy, and a charming blonde girl made up the rear of the line. As the pace of the music quickened, the round faced boy’s foot snagged on the carpet, taking Hermione and a blonde girl tumbling down with him while the other dancers moved on. The courtiers around them laughed in amusement as the boy apologized profusely to the two women. Ignoring the snide laughter, the blonde was quick to reassure him, “Not to worry, Lord Neville, I am not harmed are you Lady—?“

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione finished, “and I am unharmed. Maybe now is a good time to rest and get a drink seeing as our dancing group has moved on without us.”

“Shall we all go find a refreshment then?” The blonde girl asked.

The other two nodded in agreement and with that, the two women helped Lord Neville to his feet. Hermione noticed that he blushed when the blonde girl took his arm and she smiled shyly back.

Hermione flagged down a server carrying goblets of spiced wine and soon the three were rosy faced and chatting amiably. Hermione learned the blonde girl was named Lady Hannah Abbot and that Neville belonged to the Longbottom clan, both old and prestigious families. Hermione could hear her mother’s voice imploring her to make an impression with these two, but Hermione was just relieved to have made new friends at court. Hannah kept laying her hands on Neville’s arm or running her fingers through his hair while the boy, happy at her attentions, kept blushing redder and redder. An idea came to Hermione as she watched the two, and she said, “I heard that the castle gardens are a work of art, that the Herbologist Pomona Sprout had a hand in creating it.”

“She did!” Neville replied enthusiastically, ”I’ve been taken on as her apprentice, you see, and it really is amazing! Vervain, devil’s snare, mandrakes! The palace greenhouses have everything!

“Don’t forget about the living hedge maze!” Hannah said.

“A living hedge maze?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yes! The maze is enchanted to rearrange itself every so often,” Hannah explained, “Believe me, I would have been lost for days if Neville and Madam Sprout hadn’t have found me…”

Neville’s blush returned and he drank deeply from his goblet as if the object were something to hide behind.

“I want to see this maze! Hannah, Neville, show me please,” Hermione said smiling as she grabbed her two companions and ushered them towards the entrance hall.

The maze was just as incredible as Hannah and Neville said. Ten foot tall hedges reached towards the sky and the entrance was decorated with an arch made of two interlocking phoenixes, whose wings and tail feathers moved gently, as if alive. The trio entered the maze, and the heads of the phoenixes turned to follow them. Oblivious, the little group chatted about court life and how Hermione would have many future balls and banquets to look forward too. Would she even get to meet the princes? Hermione thought to herself. The court seemed like a different world where anything could happen.

The three new friends ambled around, turning this way and that, trying to find the end of the maze and the “must be seen” mermaid lake. In the middle of Neville’s harrowing story about the court fool getting drunk and fighting a violent tree, the bush to Hermione’s right began to shake. Hannah sighed in delight and stepped closer to Hermione to whisper in her ear, “it’s happening! The maze is going to move.”

But much to everyone’s disappointment, somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, and a gopher scuttled out from the bush and across the pathway, eager to avoid becoming a late night meal. Just as Hermione was about to suggest they keep on moving, the bushes began to quiver again and branches slithered out, weaving together to reform a new wall. Hermione jumped forward away from Hannah and Neville and quickly dodged a particularly large branch that could have knocked her over. Hermione’s new friends disappeared behind the newly woven hedge wall. “Hannah! Neville! We’re cut off,” Hermione said, calling out to them.

Moments passed then Hermione heard Hannah and Neville’s voices, “Lady Hermione will you be able to find your way back? Should we call for help?”

“No, don’t worry about me! I could use some time to cool down before I go back. Have a good night you two!” Hermione said.

The hidden pair called out their goodbyes and Hermione surged forward onto the freshly made path laughing as she went. She had been wandering this way and that, analyzing the patterns in the ground tiles that would hopefully guide her to the end of the maze. She thought she cracked the code hidden in the tiles, but a wall of hedges blocked her path. She was about to turn around and try again when the hedges shook to life and the branches started unraveling before her, exposing the end of the maze.

Hermione felt so proud, she had made it to the mermaid lake. She took in the sight of the lake with a tiered fountain near it’s edge. Bronze mermaids lounged on rocks scattered artfully around the lake. Just like the phoenixes, these statues moved, some mermaids brushed out their hair or stared at their reflections in the water. The water sparkled as it was filled with the moonlight, giving the area an ethereal glow. This truly was a sight that shouldn’t be missed.

As Hermione moved closer to the lake’s edge, she noticed a figure laying in the grass by the shoreline. It moved to stand as she approached and Hermione came face to face with his royal majesty, Prince Draco of the house of Malfoy.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading this story! Let me know what you think. This is the first fanfic I’ve written in years so please be kind.

EDIT: This is a re-upload. I changed the title from “The Declaration” to “The Phoenix Court”.

#dramione #dramione fanfic #dramione fanficition #dramione fandom #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dramione au #harry potter au #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #hp #harry potter fanfiction #hermione #draco

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somenewsarah · 5 years

Text

Betrothed

Requested: Yes: “Draco x raven claw reader, betrothed. She is a pure blood, her parents didn’t mind muggles until her mother was murdered by one during a trip to the muggle world. Her father grew cold and distant. He has some political power, so the Malfoys thought this would be a good time to approach him with the offer. The reader doesn’t mind it too much since she wants to make her father happy, but it’s complicated. Fred and George show her a time pranking people and she seems to form a crush on them.”

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!Reader with bits of Weasley twin love c:

Warnings: Mentions of death, arranged marriage

Genre: Angst? With bits of fluff?

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I actually really loved this request, and I’m thinking about either doing a part 2 to this one, or making it a little series! Let me know what you guys thing and what you want!

Feet up, head back, eyes closed. The perfect way to spend your days inside the Ministry department. Your father is the head of the Magical Transportations department, and although you’re out of school for summer, you spend most of your days here, your nose stuck in a book.

“Y/N,” your father says, tapping on his desk which your feet are resting on. You pick your head up, raising your eyebrow. “Help keep me on track, yes? We should be gone here by five o’clock, no later. We must meet your mother for dinner.”

You nod, turning your attention back towards the ceiling. Your fifth year at Hogwarts had treated you well. You spent a lot of time in the library with your unlikely friend Hermione Granger. Together, you’d studied enchantments and spells as well as curses and hexes. You knew what they’d been up to, of course. In your opinion, they made it quite obvious.

One of your closest friends, Luna Lovegood joined Harry Potter’s new group, Dumbledore’s Army, as well as a few of your fellow Ravenclaws, but you couldn’t be bothered to join it. It wasn’t really something you thought you needed. If the time came to stay and fight for Hogwarts, you would do what you had to do. You always would.

Five o’clock rolls around slower than you would’ve liked, and soon, you’re on your way home with your father.

“So,” your mother starts. “I have an assignment.”

“Assignment?” Your father asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

Although your family is a pureblood family, none of you showed a particular interest in the dark arts. Well, not until recently, anyways. Your mother found she needed something more in her life- something to fulfill a space that you nor your father could ever understand. So, she starts going to secret meetings, traveling, having these ‘assignments’ that must be fulfilled. At first, you suspect an affair, but after a while, it seems your father is in on the meetings and the assignments, but they keep it all from you.

“Yes. I’m to go to the muggle world and follow traces of other dark wizards that are threatening our safety,” she explains. She eyes you carefully, but you say nothing.

“Why wouldn’t they just get aurors to do it?” Your father asks, picking at his food. The thought dawns on you.

“Because this isn’t an assignment from the Ministry,” you say, keeping your head low. Silence follows.

The next morning, after receiving your Hogwarts letter for your sixth year and having breakfast with your parents, you kiss your mother goodbye as she departs for her journey to the muggle world.

“Please be careful,” you say, hugging her tightly. “Don’t try and be a hero, okay?”

“I promise,” your mom smiles, kissing your forehead gently. “Take care of your father, make sure you write to him while you’re in school. He gets lonely all by himself.”

“He has his work,” you snort. “But I will. How long will you be gone?”

“Just a few months. But I’ll be back before you know it, okay? If things get bad, I’ll come back early.”

Your father joins the two of you, holding your mother’s bags in his hands. He sets them on the floor quickly and wraps you both in a hug.

“Hurry back to us.”

With your pockets full of galleons, you head to Diagon Alley to purchase your supplies for the coming year. The brightness of the alley has slimmed drastically- everything seems dead and lifeless, except for one corner. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

You push the door open, and the shouts and giggles fill the air, livening up the dead scene outside. You wander around the store, looking for any of your friends or anyone you even considered an acquaintance, but there were so many people packed inside that you couldn’t distinguish any faces.

“Y/N!” Hermione bellows, waving at you over the sea of people. You can’t help the grin on your face as you push your way over to her, eyeing the love potion in her hand.

“Should I be worried?” You laugh, gesturing to the pink potion.

“Oh, Merlin, no,” she laughs, placing it back on the shelf. “I was just admiring the potion-making, is all. Fred and George have really outdone themselves with this place. It’s incredible.”

“It really is. Fred and George are the Weasley twins, right?” You ask, peering around to see if you could spot them. “I don’t think I’ve properly met them.”

“Oh, they’re right back here! Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Hermione grabs your hand, pulling you through the sea of Hogwarts students, all there for a different reason. She pulls you behind a curtain and up a small flight of stairs. There, sitting in the stairwell, are the Weasley twins. “Fred, George, I wanted to properly introduce you to my friend Y/N. She was instrumental in helping the DA last term.”

“Any friend of Hermione’s is a friend of ours. I’m George,” the twin on the right says, sticking out his hand.

“Oh, thanks,” you smile. “Y/N.”

“Fred Weasley,” the twin on the left says. You shake both of their hands, then look down at what’s in their lap. A small box sits between them, and they slowly deposit galleon after galleon, knut after knut.

“This really is quite the place,” you say, looking over the railing at the store below. “How long did it take to amass such an inventory?”

“We’ve been developing for years,” Fred, you think, says. “Started when we were just in our first year. Had a few setbacks with mum throwing out our stuff.”

“This started with… pranks?”

“Oh yes,” Hermione says, laughing like she’d had her fair share of Weasley pranks.

“If you ever need a good idea for a prank, you know where to find us,” George winks. “It’s our favorite pastime.”

School begins, and soon, you’re so swept up in classes and Lord Voldemort, and your absent mother that you don’t even realize that you’d stopped writing to your father.

“I’m sure he understands,” Luna says, her voice as dreamy and wispy as ever. “You’re not the only one who’s busy, you know. He does work for the Ministry.”

“Yeah,” you start. “I suppose I just feel bad because I promised that I would write to him before my mom left.”

“When is she coming back?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shaking your head. She’d only really been gone for a few weeks, though it felt like ages from having not heard from her.

“Mail is here,” Luna says. You look around, but it only takes a few minutes for the owls to swoop down. Somehow, she always knows. Your miniature barn owl, Didgy, drops a small letter into your lap. You pet her affectionately, and she gives your finger a grateful nip before taking flight back to the owlry.

“It’s from my father,” you say. “I’m sure I’m gonna get it big time for not writing soon enough.”

But you don’t. In fact, he hadn’t even noticed that you hadn’t been writing, because he’d received some awful news from the muggle law enforcement. Your mother had been found lying face down in a small lake, dead.

You set the letter down, fighting to remind yourself to just breathe. All you must do is breath. You cover your mouth with your hand, choking back a sob that builds in your throat. You know your eyes are watering, but you don’t make a move to wipe them, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to yourself.

“It can’t have been that bad,” Luna says. She reaches across the table and picks up the note. Her eyes scan it, and she folds it carefully and places it back on the table. “Death is such a funny thing. It’s never the same for anyone.”

The funeral is bleak, and there are several people there that you don’t even know. Your black dress skims the floor as you stand next to your mother’s casket, hugging person after person as they approach you, offering their own condolences.

The hollow feeling in your stomach doesn’t move. It sits there, festering inside of you, starting a fire for something you don’t even understand yet. But, you pull it together, holding your father’s hand as he stands next to you, stoic and pale, a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

You look around the funeral, noticing a man with long, white blond hair staring at your father. He taps his cane once, then turns on his heel. You watch as your father watches him.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Harry Potter says, approaching the casket and you. “I’m here, should you need to talk.”

“Thanks, Harry,” you say, trying your hardest to muster a small smile. In fact, you see several of your Hogwarts classmates. Luna, Hermione, Harry, and Ron all came together, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, there to offer their deepest of sympathies to your father.

“Hey, you,” George says, walking up to you. He wraps you in a quick hug squeezing you gently. Your father still hadn’t returned. “How’re you holding up?”

“Um,” you start, your eyes filling with tears at the unexpected question. “Yeah, I’ve um, I’ve been better.”

“I’m so sorry,” Fred says, wrapping you in a hug next. “Please, if you need anything, we’re always at the shop, and we’re always here for you.”

“I just wish I could find a way to make today a little brighter,” you say, mustering a small laugh.

“Well, lucky for you, I think we might could help you with that,” George says, a gleam in his brown eyes. You tilt your head, looking up at him. “We’ve been testing something, and if you want, we could put it to the test.”

“What is it?” You ask.

“It’s a Memory Marble,” Fred explains. “The person who eats it will automatically share their most recent memory of the first person they see.”

“That sounds like it could easily go awry,” you say, wringing your fingers together.

“Or very well,” George smiles.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

Fred and George allow two people at a time to come up to the casket, and they offer them their own marbles. One by one, you hear stories about your mother from people you never knew existed. About times she was drunk off firewhiskey and danced on a table at the Leaky Cauldrin, or how on your parents’ wedding day, they were so busy dancing in the bridal room that they were both late to their own wedding, and almost lost the officiant. You heard stories about falling outs with your parents, about how they wished they’d stayed in touch after school, or how their school days were the greatest.

Time flew, and soon, your father was back at your side, listening in to everyone’s stories like it was the first time he was hearing them himself.

“We need to have a talk,” your father says. He sits down at the head of the table and loosens his tie. You’re set to return to Hogwarts the following day, but were spending the night with your father. The funeral ended on a positive note, all thanks to Fred and George Weasley, and you were satisfied that your mother would’ve loved it.

“What is it? Does this have to do with the blond man?”

“Yes, “he starts. He holds a glass of bourbon in his hand, sipping it slowly. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to provide a life for you that your mother would’ve wanted, so I’ve made an arrangement for you.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, pulling out the seat to the right of him.

“When you are of age, you are to marry Draco Malfoy. I’ve made the deal with Lucius, and we both think it’ll be mutually beneficial for all parties involved.”

Your heart sinks, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, you think of the red-headed twins and how the possibility of ever being happy seems so hard to grasp. Draco Malfoy is a crude Slytherin in your year, and it’s rumored that he’s working very closely with the Dark Lord and is currently a Death Eater, and that alone scares you beyond belief.

Your mother’s last words to you float through your head. ‘Take care of your father.’

Maybe this is your way of taking care of him. So, swallowing your own pride and fear and regret, you nod. Your father sighs, taking another sip of the amber liquid that sloshes in his glass.

“Am I to meet him anytime soon?” You ask, a small lilt in your voice.

“Lucius is arranging a date to Hogsmeade this coming weekend when you return to school. It’ll only be you and Draco, so maybe it’ll be a good chance to get to know him,” he shrugs. His eyes are darker than usual as he straightens up. He doesn’t meet your eye. “I hope you know I’m doing this for your own good. The Malfoys aren’t bad people, despite their past. They can give you a prosperous future.”

With that, he stands from the table and retires to his room, stopping only once at the cart in the parlor to refill his glass.

Sighing to yourself, you take your leave.

Draco Malfoy isn’t at all what you expected. He’s very formal and polite. He holds the door open for you, offers you an extra coat for the long trek to Hogsmeade, which you gladly accept. It smells of rich cologne and some sort of musk that is nice, but you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” he says, looking over at you as the two of you walk through the snow.

“It’s alright,” you swallow, keeping your eyes low. “Could we maybe not talk about that?”

“Sure,” Draco nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Before I say anything else, I also want to say I’m sorry for my father’s behavior at the funeral. He pounces on deals before he thinks them through.”

“And here we are,” you laugh.

“Here we are,” he repeats. He looks over at you, and you catch his eye. He’s actually quite handsome, with white blond hair just like his father’s, but his falls differently. It’s unruly and flops onto his forehead under his snow cap, and his eyes are a grey color that intrigue you.

“I suppose we should make the most of it,” you offer. You extend your hand to him, and he takes it carefully, almost testing the waters between the two of you.

You make it into Hogsmeade not ten minutes later, but the ten minutes are filled with conversation about the both of you. Draco wanted to know everything. Where you were born, what your favorite book is, how you feel about the uprising of the Dark Lord, where you stand on the issue of House Elves. You asked him similar questions, and found that you had a lot in common.

You enter the Three Broomsticks together, laughing at something Draco said. He helps you out of your coat as you shake the snow out of your hair.

“Y/N!” Someone bellows over the crowd. You look around, spotting the Weasley twins. “Hey, come sit with us!”

“Actually,“ you start, but Draco cuts you off.

“Sorry, Weasley, she’s with me,” he bites. It was a side to him that you’d heard about often, but not one that he’d been advertising with you. You look over your shoulder at him, then back at Fred and George. Your heart aches to go sit with them, prank with them, just to feel as alive as you did the first time you stepped into their store, but you hold your tongue.

“I’m actually good friends with them,” you start. “So, if you don’t mind maybe being a tad more pleasant?”

“Uh- I- yeah, I’m sorry,” he flounders. His cheeks pink up. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s alright. I know this isn’t really ideal for either of us,” you start carefully. “And I know that I’m a pureblood and I should care about that, but I really really don’t. It would really help me adjust if you treated people with common decency, and if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll be sure to work on it.”

Draco’s mouth falls slightly open, but he quickly composes himself. He folds his hand on the table as Madam Rosmerta brings around a tray of two butterbeers.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she smiles, setting one down in front of the both of you. “Enjoy.”

“Do you always get the royal treatment?” You ask, eyeing the warm beverage. “I mean, don’t most people order their own drinks and bring them back to the table?”

“Father planned this,” he explains. He’s silent for a moment, then reaches across the table and takes your hands in his own. “I will try my hardest to be ‘decent,’ as you say, if you will do something for me. This will be easier on both of us if you wipe any preconceived notions of me out of your mind. I have an awful task to achieve this year, and it might be a little easier if you helped me. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I would understand if you went running for the hills, but I’m sitting before you right now, telling you that I’m willing to make this work with you if you are. If something happens after this is all over and you find me foul, then so be it.”

Your eyes dart between his eyes and the hands that are clasped around yours. You soak in his words, your heart pounding against your chest. You know what the task is, your father told you before you left for Hogwarts, but you never imagined Draco would ask you to help him with it. You move your head to the side, your eyes locking with George Weasley’s. He offers you a weak smile before turning back to Fred.

Sighing to yourself, you turn back to Draco.

“Alright,” you nod. “Let’s do this. Let’s make it work.”

You would take care of your father no matter what, and if this is how he wanted you to do it, then so be it.

@hecatemacbeth7

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x oc #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #original female character #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley family #charlie weasley #Ron Weasley

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obaewankenope · 4 years

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Stegosawns and Time - Good Omens, Absconding with Harry verse ficlet

@murderandjam asked for me to write something with dinosaurs involved so, like a champ, I’ve done my best. Hope they, and ya’ll, like it.

//.//

Harry doesn’t particular care about dinosaurs, not really, but he’s a thirteen-year-old boy and dinosaurs are sort of A Thing for thirteen-year-old boys to be interested in. Well, according to Miss Hale, who runs the local corner shop with her husband of thirty-five years, at least.[1]

So, of course, Harry has to at least be interested in dinosaurs otherwise Miss Hale will make comments about his Uncle’s and Harry will want to cause a bit—a lot—of chaos in her shop, even though she’s very nice to him and only makes snide comments on Tuesdays.[2] It’s less because Harry wants to impress Miss Hale with his dinosaur knowledge and more that he wants to have information he can utilise against someone who seems to like making Comments about his Uncle’s lifestyles.

Harry is well-aware that he can be a petty child, but he does limit his pettiness to people who deserve a bit of Petty Childishness thrown in their overly opinionated faces. Thus, it follows that Harry learns the basic facts about dinosaurs, recites a couple to Miss Hale, adds a few titbits about the quantity of homosexual relationships in the animal kingdom and how there were probably queer dinosaurs—enjoying immensely the way Miss Hale’s smile freezes on her face at that—and that, if Harry were to choose a dinosaur to be, he’d choose a Psittacosaurus because “it looks really cute but I bet it can do a predator a whole lot of harm with those little tusks”.

Oddly enough, Miss Hale hasn’t asked if Harry is interested in things anymore and doesn’t seem interested in suggesting research topics for Harry to try and make a hobby out of.

Strange that.

[Keep Reading on AO3]

But, when Jurassic Park is released in the UK on 16th July 1993, the interest Harry has in dinosaurs reaches a more expected level for a thirteen-year-old boy to possess; basically, he becomes obsessed with dinosaurs that eat people.

Though, not quite in the way Miss Hale probably ever expected Harry to be interested in carnivores. Apparently, spending thirty-minutes ranting about dinosaurs being denied access to enrichment like zoo animals ought to have is not the “correct” response on the forum dedicated to All Things Jurassic Park.

When someone tells him to “read the book, dumbass” Harry has to log off and go for a fly on his broom. Cursing someone who lives on the other side of the planet for being obtuse and all-round rude isn’t something he should do; even if he really wants to.

The pulava dies down after a few weeks of Harry reading everything he can find about dinosaurs in the bookshop—strangely, Uncle ‘Zira’s collection on dinosaurs and palaeontology is quite limited—and the library, Harry heads back to Hogwarts with Hermione and Ron ending up being unwitting victims of his diatribes.

Well, Ron is an unwitting victim. Hermione looks like Christmas has come early and she doesn’t even celebrate Christmas except at Hogwarts.

“I know!” Hermione exclaims, nodding vigorously at what Harry’s saying on the topic of how dinosaur DNA just couldn’t survive that long without totally degrading. “It’s really obvious if you think about it, even my parents said the same and they’re dental hygienists, but the boys who live by my house ignored me when I told them.”

“Idiots,” Harry replies and Hermione smiles at him. “Frog DNA is really picky as well, like, you definitely have to be careful with it; not just randomly add it to some ancient DNA and expect everything to be all hunky-dory! How do people not realise this?”

Harry shakes his head. “I know it’s fiction and Hollywood magic,” he continues, “but really, it’s a stupid plot to have such awful mad science stuff.”

“The book is much better than the film,” Hermione says and Harry nods. “Though, I do like the actors and—if I ignore the inaccuracies and deviations from the book—it’s not an awful film. I just prefer the book.”

“Same.” Harry pauses.

“The T-Rex scenes were pretty great though, weren’t they?” he asks and Hermione nods.

“Oh Morgana, yes!” Hermione agrees, grinning. “I really enjoyed the car chase.”

“Me too!”

“Also, that nasty lawyer—”

“—oh yeah! He totally got what he deserved!”

Ron, throughout this entire rant and later gush-fest regarding Jurassic Park and dinosaurs, is silent until he finally can’t take it anymore; judging by the way he all-but bellows at Harry and Hermione.

“What the bloody hell is a dinosaur?”

It’s probably The Worst question Ron could have asked but Ron obviously has no idea what Harry and Hermione are going on about; and Ron has never liked not knowing what’s going on. That’s probably because he grew up with six brothers and a little sister and had to deal with so much happening that he didn’t have a clue about. Being out of the loop is something Ron doesn’t handle very well when it comes to his friends and that means Harry and Hermione have an Obligation to educate Ron on the subject of dinosaurs.

He’s probably going to regret asking, Harry thinks, but at least he’ll know something other purebloods won’t.[3]

By the time the train arrives at Hogsmeade, Ron has a basic understanding of what dinosaurs are; ancient lizards that enjoyed being ancient lizards eating things and being eaten. Mentioning Jurassic Park during the Education of Ron sends them off on a digression that sees Ron being very, very confused by DNA, genetics, theme parks, and corporate environments. This drives Hermione to promise to borrow Ron her copy of the book, citing that it’s much more in-depth than what Harry and Hermione have told him, and to write a list of things that he doesn’t understand when reading so she and Harry can help him understand just why theme park monsters are Bad.

Dinosaur-related learning falls to the wayside as term starts and things Happen throughout the year, but Harry still finds the chance to ask various purebloods about the topic; feeling very vindicated every time a pureblood looks at him like he’s a madman—which, to be fair, he is—or throws a bit of a wobbler at the prospect that muggles know something a pureblood doesn’t.

When Harry asks a Slytherin who is somewhat amiable to students in other houses, he’s surprised when they actually do know about dinosaurs; right up until he realises that they’re a half-blood and hiding the fact. That Slytherin turns out to be pretty delightful and Harry makes no comment on the fact that they use terms that only muggles use. He’s never known a single pureblood Slytherin to use the word thermos when referring to their coffee cup and he just knows they picked that up from muggles.[4]

Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t find out until later that Hermione wisely went and asked the Ravenclaw purebloods about dinosaurs and discovered a whole host of them knew at least something about them and palaeontology too. In the end, Harry loses the bet with Hermione and ends up knitting a whole load of hats for the House Elves—which are used as hats for the teapots rather than the Elves themselves, much to Hermione’s mild annoyance—which isn’t so bad and he at least learns a knew skill in the process.

Throughout all of this, the two come to a sort of unanimous decision that Hogwarts needs better education on non-magical things. Even if witches and wizards might not ever really need to know the names of carnivorous dinosaurs, it’s still useful to know stuff that muggles do so they can better blend in when they’re older.

The fact that it will also reduce the division between magical and non-magical is something neither quite realise until they’re much, much older.[5]

Arranging a sort of study group with students from all the years to get them to learn about things Not Related To Magic is less of a challenge than either of them realise; especially when Ron snorts and tells them to make out the whole thing is “too good for those stuck-up purebloods”. Spite and pride, it turns out, are really good motivators for learning things just to Prove You Can.

Even the Slytherin’s show up.

That leaves Harry and Hermione, and several other muggleborns and half-bloods, with the job of explaining evolution to a bunch of witches and wizards. It sounds like it should be a doddle, but there are certain purebloods that seem intent on making it beyond difficult.

Oddly enough, Malfoy isn’t one of them.

“That doesn’t make any sense, though!” Stephen Cornfoot—a Hufflepuff—says and Harry doesn’t roll his eyes, but it’s a near-thing.

“Environmental changes happen all the time,” Hermione says calmly, though the way her eyelid twitches slightly tells Harry—who’s stood right next to her—that she is definitely not calm. “Physiological adaptation is natural response for a creature. Humans have evolved from previous versions to what we are today, and we’re still evolving. What is there to not understand?”

“A lot, apparently,” Harry mutters under his breath and looks away from the glare Hermione throws at him. “You can change how you act to stuff, right?” He says, raising his voice to be heard by everyone in the room—all forty or so students. “I know a lot of have broken school rules before, and I also know a good number of us have avoided breaking them after the first time we got caught. Or broke the rules better and not got caught. Well, same sort of principle applies to evolution. But it’s a much, much longer scale of time. Instead of us learning to break the rules better and teaching the students after us—or our children, if any of us end up being parents—an animal can evolve over a hundred million years to become a better hunter, or avoid being hunted.”

“Newton Scamander even noted that magical creatures potentially underwent some evolutionary changes in their own history,” Hermione points out, and Cornfoot looks more convinced from that alone which, Harry will admit to himself, is pretty annoying. “You don’t think Kelpies have remained the size they are currently? Or as specifically adapted to marine living?”

Harry knows Hermione’s questions are rhetorical but the way Cornfoot blushes in embarrassment makes him reach out and place a hand on Hermione’s arm. He’s a little concerned she might hex Cornfoot for actually believing Kelpies haven’t evolved.

He’s not certain how he’s supposed to stop her from actually committing murder when Cornfoot—and others—seem to not believe in evolution as though they’re the most resistant of Christians, but Harry figures that so long as Hermione doesn’t do it in public and doesn’t get caught then it’s not something he needs to really worry about.

Probably.

They split the students up into groups that each of the volunteer muggleborns and half-bloods who are willing to Educate The Noble Purebloods About Basic Things take. Whilst this enables Harry to keep Hermione away from Cornfoot and his very strangle-able throat, it however, leaves Harry with Malfoy to deal with.

The things Harry does for his friends.

Uncle’s Crowley and Aziraphale show up about an hour into the Educating of Purebloods and, unfortunately, derail the entire thing with a very casual comment regarding the veracity of palaeontology.

“You’re telling them about dinosaurs?” Uncle Crowley asks and snorts. “Dinosaurs aren’t real.”

“Of course they are!” Hermione says in the sudden silence Harry’s uncle’s words have caused. “There’s over a century of detailed records and expeditions to look for new fossils. How can you even say otherwise?”

“Because they’re a big ol’ prank,” Uncle Crowley answers. “She made them that way.”

“She?” A Ravenclaw asks from Dean’s group.

“You know, God.” Harry’s uncle looks very unhappy to be explaining this but since he started it, Harry doesn’t feel the slightest bit sorry for him. “Thought it was a right laugh, I’m sure.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going- you know what? Fine, fine,” Hermione rambles and she looks a little frazzled; the way she does sometimes when Ginny’s friend, Luna mentions some creature from the Quibbler. “Have you any proof of this claim?” She asks in a measured tone.

Harry has a feeling that this discussion is going to get Nasty.

“Well, my memory, I guess,” Uncle Crowley says and points at Uncle ‘Zira. “And his.”

“You’re memory,” Hermione says flatly.

“Yep!”

“The Earth hasn’t existed long enough for dinosaurs to exist, anyway!” Uncle Crowley exclaims and Harry’s sure Hermione’s eyelid just twitched. “Only been around for six-thousand-years!”

“I see.” Hermione, if anything, manages to sound even flatter than she did before. “Right, that’s what you believe. Nice to know. But actual scientific research tells us the Earth is actually four-point-five billion years old, not six-thousand. And,” she continues, “dinosaurs lived as recently as sixty-six million years ago and as far two-hundred-and-forty-five million years ago. That’s based on intense, rigorous scientific experiments which are much more reliable than a heavily revised book written and re-written over the last two-thousand years.”

Harry doesn’t leave the room but he sure wants to. Judging by the expressions on a lot of the students in the room, they want to flee too.

“That’s part of the joke,” Uncle Crowley explains with a smirk. “Thought was right funny, She did. Bit unfair of Her, really, expecting you lot to ever figure out She punked you all with dinosaurs but—” he shrugs “—not a surprise, really. She’s like that.”

“Well, how do you know God made them as a prank?”

Harry looks across the room, eyebrows raised in surprise because that’s Malfoy.

“Huh?” Uncle Crowley looks at the Slytherin with raised eyebrows himself. “Whadya mean?”

“Well, if your memory is what you’re going on, then did you have a conversation with God about dinosaurs and time and all that other stuff Potter and Granger have been going on about?” Malfoy elaborates. “Did you actually ask… Her if dinosaurs are a joke or did you just assume based on something you thought you know?”

Harry has never seen Uncle Crowley look so very stumped about something and, although it’s probably a little—a lot—bad of him, he really enjoys the sight of it. Judging by the way he seems to be smiling a little at Uncle Crowley’s expression, Uncle ‘Zira enjoys it too.[6]

“Well, obviously not,” Uncle Crowley says. “I learnt it the hard way that asking Her stuff ends painfully. Just figured it was a joke because this dustball hasn’t existed that long.”

The amusement on Uncle ‘Zira’s face disappears. Uncle Crowley’s State of Affairs isn’t something Harry asks questions about but he can tell it’s not the greatest thing, bringing up their statuses as angel and demon.

“But how do you know Earth hasn’t?” Malfoy presses and Harry’s actually sort of impressed. Malfoy has been strangely strange the past year or so. He’s still a twit and a bigot, but he’s better than he was in the first year, for sure.

“We were there when She made it.”

Malfoy rolls his eyes. “And when did She make it? What date, exactly? What existed before She made Earth?”

“Six-thousand years ago, I’ve said this kid,” Uncle Crowley replies. “Four-thousand-and-four-BC. She made it after Heaven and Hell got set up. It was Her big thing. Caused a lot of ruckus up in Heaven when She announced it.”

“Wasn’t Hell created when angels fell, though?” Terry Boot asks, frowning. “I’ve read the Bible and the Torah and Qur’an. I’m pretty sure Hell came after the Earth was made.”

Uncle Crowley waves a hand. “Semantics, really,” he says, “time wasn’t a thing before Earth got shoved into being so Heaven and Hell both existed before and after this little dustball and solar system got set up.”

“If time ‘wasn’t a thing’,” Malfoy says, smirking in that smug way the Slytherin does that makes Harry want to hex him. “Then how do you really know how old the Earth is, or dinosaurs, when you’ve literally just said time didn’t exist before the Earth was made? I mean, what if God was making it for a long time before She just made it real? Like when performing alchemy; we don’t just make gold straight away; we build up to it.”

“No, no, no, that’s not what I said,” Uncle Crowley snaps and he looks annoyed now. Harry thinks it’s pretty amusing that he looks annoyed because he definitely said that.

“That is what you said, actually,” Hermione says and honestly, the fact that she’s siding with Malfoy really says it all. Uncle Crowley has lost this argument and should probably just concede now. “The only way your argument could be valid would be if time existed before Earth did and Hell after and only after. Since you’ve said that isn’t the case, then it can be assumed that time has been applied retrospectively and that means that, technically, dinosaurs did live between two-hundred-and-forty-five and sixty-six million years ago because time is a measurement used to determine change.”

The room is silent because Uncle Crowley isn’t responding to Malfoy or Hermione and Uncle ‘Zira has been content to stand back and let Uncle Crowley do the talking. Harry is content to just Not Get Involved.

“Maybe the joke isn’t for humanity, maybe it’s for you,” Luna Lovegood says into the silence. She sounds like she usually does; like she’s more interested in Other Things that other people know nothing about. She reminds him of his Uncle’s sometimes, the way she just zones out and seems to be listening to something Harry can’t hear. Right now, however, Luna doesn’t remind him of his Uncle’s; he doesn’t know what she reminds him of, only that it’s something Big and Important and Beyond Him. “Or perhaps it’s a test.”

Harry would like for this whole conversation to end now please because the whole afternoon is getting away from them and he really did want to go flying on his broom before it got too dark to see in front of his face. Unfortunately, like most things lately, that plan is now in shambles and he’s stuck in this sort of painful situation of watching his Uncle’s quietly—or not so quietly, in Uncle Crowley’s case—question everything they thought they knew.

Existential crises happen even to celestial beings, apparently.

“Who cares!” Ginny’s voice echoes around the room, loud and a little startling. The room at large sort of looks at her; she’s doesn’t appear to be bothered by that. “I want to know about these Stegosawns, Hermione mentioned; they sound wicked.”

That—Harry notes—breaks whatever strange tension has been steadily filling the room since his Uncle’s entered and the students start to mutter amongst themselves; obviously they agree with Ginny and would really like this conversation to end now, there’s way more interesting things to learn about, thanks.

Harry is all too happy to oblige.

“Stegosaurs, or Stegosaurus,” he corrects, giving Ginny a smile, “were herbivores that had armour-plating on their back and spikes on their tails. Definitely not something a predator wanted to fight if they were weak or injured. They probably weighed as much as a dragon and were probably as big, depending on the breed of dragon.”

“Woah, wicked,” Fred or George say and there’s a general murmur of agreement amongst the students. “Imagine running into one of those when out for a walk.”

“I think I’d prefer the dragon, actually,” a fourth-year Ravenclaw remarks to a smatter of laughter.

Harry sees his Uncle’s slink out of the room—well, Uncle Crowley slinks, Uncle ‘Zira just walks—and resolves to visit them later tonight. He thinks they might appreciate him there to distract them from whatever Thoughts Malfoy and Hermione have given them about their purpose and stuff. Gods know, Harry would appreciate the distraction if he were in their place.

But, for now, he has dinosaurs to talk about with some purebloods who seem much more enthusiastic about learning about giant lizards the size of dragons. He wonders how they’ll react to the Brontosaurus; it should be entertaining, at least.[7]

[1] To understand the expectation people, have for teenage boys to be interested in dinosaurs, you have to consider the fact that dinosaurs are viewed as something of a Violent and Bloody Topic fit only for Boys and Men. Why? Because society loves to treat girls like their only worth is to be found in looking pretty but being stupid and vapid. A girl with a personality or a brain must in want of a husband who can put her back into society’s True Woman Mold. Harry, thanks to his Uncle’s, isn’t in the slightest bit impressed with this tripe and, as such, takes great delight in learning about things Boys Shouldn’t Be Interested In as well as pushing Hermione and Ron’s sister, Ginny, to learn things Girls Shouldn’t Be Interested In. It’s very entertaining as well as educational.

[2] Why Tuesdays is anyone’s guess really, but it does serve to ensure that Harry knows what day of the week it is if he ever spontaneously forgets that Tuesdays exist.

[3] Harry places a bet with Hermione—ignoring her huffy comment about how she doesn’t “bet” even as she places said bet—that not a single pureblood at Hogwarts will know anything about dinosaurs. Hermione thinks Harry’s assumption regarding pureblood education simply must be wrong since there are magical creatures that could be living dinosaurs considering how old they are.

[4] The fact that Harry is only right about the Slytherin—Arnold Renard—being a half-blood rather than a pureblood is less because Harry possesses excellent deductive reasoning skills and more to do with the fact that he’s rather good at just guessing stuff about people. If he ever sat down and really thought about how he knows this stuff, Harry would discover that he actually does have good deductive reasoning skills but a rather poor working memory when it comes to recognising such deductions consciously.

[5] The realisation that they can quite literally affect the entirety of the British Wizarding World by talking about dinosaurs, science, astronomy, heck, even yoga is something of a revelation for the two. The long-term impact on pureblood rhetoric is most apparent by the next generation of magical children; and the impact is wonderful.

[6] Aziraphale enjoys the sight of Crowley looking so stumped but the actual topic of conversation is one that will bother Aziraphale for a long time to come. The idea that they don’t know exactly what She has planned. The idea that a child can ask such a question and reveal that they, angels and demons, are assuming so much; it’s terrifying because it means they could be wrong. Being wrong sounds like a dangerous thing to be when one is an angel, afterall.

[7] It is.

#Good Omens #GOmens #Harry Potter #Absconding with Harry verse #Dinosaurs #Jurassic Park references #Listen if I can't give some existential crises to Crowley and Aziraphale #Then what's the point?#Lol

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apottergeek · 4 years

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For several days here on tumblr my feed has been flooded with complaints about how much movie!Ron sucks and how the movies did him an injustice. So I’m taking a break from the regular broadcast to throw in my two cents because I’m only human and I can only resist baiting for a really short time :P

Now, I like Ron so there’s no need to come at me. But one of my pet peeves with this fandom is how much crap movie makers or the writers of CC get whereas JKR gets no responsibility at all for her creation. In the case of Ginny, I get it because movie Ginny is different than what the books gave us so it’s not Rowling’s doing. However, in Ron’s case I feel like the movies only exaggerated what was already in the books. JKR sees herself in Hermione, alright? She made Hermione the genius and the problem solver of the trio and both Harry and Ron realize that they wouldn’t last a day without her. The movies might have switched a few lines around but this glorification of Hermione really isn’t their fault because it’s already in the BOOKS, people! And let’s remember that Ron got to have his brilliant chess moment in PS whereas Hermione solving Snape’s logic puzzle was cut out.

I see a point to the complaints that the movies made Hermione out to be more important than Ron to Harry whereas in the books, we’re told several times that Harry doesn’t have as much fun with Herrmione as with Ron. BUT. Let’s not forget that Ron is excluded from the action two times in the books where JKR lets Hermione and Harry go at it alone: in PoA and in DH (partly). JKR has even admitted that the moments at Godric’s Hollow that Harry shares with Hermione support Harmony. It was her decision to exclude Ron from this scene and to exclude him from PoA’s ending. It’s not so strange then that Kloves saw a connection between Harry and Hermione, like many fans also did.

The movies kept the focus on Ron’s character development which we also get in the books. We get to know Ron’s family, as in the books. Hermione’s parents are pretty much non existent. We have the scene where Ron looks in the Mirror of Erised, we have the scene where he destroys the Horcrux and how it plays on his insecurities. We have none of this for Hermione. This is all true to the books where Ron is a better developed character than Hermione, in my opinion.

So yeah, I think many movie!Ron detractors are overstating their case and ignoring Rowling’s responsibility for the imbalance in each character’s contribution to the war effort. Let’s not forget that it was Rowling who gave Harry and Hermione (and Ginny) brilliant careers while making Ron work in the joke shop that the twins started. Instead of, you know, giving him a project of his own.

#ron weasley #hermione granger #hp movies #harry potter

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ohscorbus · 6 years

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Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Saturday 16th June, 2018

This isn’t a super long recap, just a couple of little things I really loved (mostly about act four) and wanted to gush about! By which I mean half of these points turn into rambling headcanons and this is actually well over 2k words long. I should probably apologise now... *whispers* I have a lot of feelings, okay?

Act Three, Scene One

“So we can continue our work together?” “We can” - It’s always been difficult to imagine Scorpius ever being the Scorpion King, and Jonathan’s Scorpius even more so. Yet today I truly saw the Scorpion King on stage for the first time. It was so jarring. Jonathan has such a baby face. His Scorpius is the definition of precious. Yet when he lowered his chin and his voice as he spoke to Umbridge, their was a flash of something. It was dangerous and sinister. It only lasted a second or two each time, but it was there. It was frightening how he could slip into that, but a relief that he couldn’t hold it. It’s not who he is but clearly it’s there within him.

Act Three, Scene Twenty

Jonathan was so great to watch in the torture scene today. He was getting so angry with Delphi. I love the way his voice dropped as he spoke back to her. He’ll stand up for himself and defend his friend even if it kills him. That anger, that fight inside of him… in the most unexpected turn of events, it’s Jonathan’s Scorpius who I can see the Scorpion King in the most. (Or at least aspects of him. It doesn’t seem like an impossible jump anymore.) He may look like a sweet sunshine child but make no mistake, he’s a Malfoy and he’ll protect what’s his at any cost. For example, despite having been tortured several times himself, the second Delphi goes to raise her wand at Albus to hit him with a crucio, Scorpius immediately leapt up and tried to get in between them despite being bound and injured himself. There was zero hesitation here. Even when he stumbled, he got straight back up and moved towards him again. It was a selfless act as well as one of pure defiance against Delphi. I was beaming with pride. Now this is the Scorpius people don’t see. The one Scorpius wishes his dad knew about. It’s sad because this is Scorpius. It defines so much about his character. I hope Draco learns about it one day. I also hope Albus acknowledges it at some point. I don’t know how you even go about thanking someone for doing that. But if anyone can, it’s Albus. Oh! Also, imagine Albus and Draco talking about Scorpius one day and Draco thanking Albus for looking out for his son or something. But then Albus being like, ‘Me??? He was the one who protected me.’ Now that’s a conversation...

Act Four, Scene Three

“My geekiness is a-quivering” - (Jonathan is still saying geekiness not geekness ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) Scorpius was flailing so hard he was at the point of passing out. Bless him. So Albus comes running over and stands in front of Scorpius and says, “Scorpius, breathe”, and as he does, he’s raised his hands up and slowly lowers them in hopes Scorpius will breathe out in time with him. He did, and it was brilliant. He had those breathing exercises ready to go which makes me believe this isn’t the first time he’s had to do this. Amazing. Such nerds. I LOVE THEM.

Act Four, Scene Eight

"You know about Delphi?” - So right before this, the boys are asked where Delphi is and Scorpius tries to respond but struggles. You see, Jonathan’s Scorpius has a bit of a stutter and he tends to restart his sentences and stumbles over words. I love it because it adds a whole new layer to Scorpius. This nervous, lonely kid who’s bullied and gossiped about by children and adults alike, and now he has this to deal with too. What’s worse is that none of the above are going to help him overcome his problem either. If anything, they exacerbate the issue. The contrast between him and his dad is also interesting. Draco is such a Malfoy, a real smooth talker. I’m sure watching his son grow up and struggle with his speech must have been difficult for them both. It’s another hurdle they would have had to overcome. But anyway, back to my point. When Scorpius was trying to talk here today, Draco stood next to him and just like everyone else, was eager to hear what was going on. This is vital information! But when Scorpius started to stutter, Draco started nodding his head along with him. Not in anger or out of frustration, but in an encouraging kind of way. I couldn’t tell you what happened much after this because I was lost in a world of headcanons. Of Draco’s concern, of Astoria’s support, and of their joint effort to help him in any way they could. I have no shame in admitting that it had me in tears. I haven’t seen Draco acknowledge his son’s stutter before and I never realised how much I needed it. This tiny little thing said so much about their father-son relationship. Especially since it was after their hug. It was like getting a glimpse into their lives outside of Hogwarts.

This is what I adore about James Howard. He takes those few and far between moments in the script and adds so much richness to it. He’s a true blessing to this play.

Act Four, Scene Nine

This is such a weird thing to notice but I myself am weird so here goes… you know in St. Jerome’s when Albus is asleep on the pew while Ginny and Harry are talking? Well Albus is always completely still, but today Joe moved slightly. I think he was simply readjusting his head (books don’t make good pillows whatever Scorpius says) but it made me think of an old ‘what if?’ I had. So once upon a time I suggested that maybe Albus wasn’t actually asleep in this scene. He’s merely pretending and ends up listening in to his parents conversation. I don’t think he is, but can you imagine if he was? Albus listening to his dad talking about how he does love him specifically. That he loves him to such an extend he understands how you could repel the spell of death (a spell Albus has now witnessed firsthand). His dad listening to his mum for advice just as he himself probably has over the years. Because ‘dad is pretty complicated’ so I’m sure he’s had many conversations with her about him over the years. Again, I don’t think he is listening in but reading/watching that scene with that in mind makes it super interesting. The later scenes too. Albus awkwardly looking at his dad after the ‘there’s plenty of things you’re good at’ line. Albus would understand what that’s about. It isn’t ‘right’ but he would finally see that his dad is trying. Then Albus standing up for his dad to Draco. He doesn’t quite know what he’s doing either but if his dad is trying then so can he. They share a small smile after this by the way and it warms my heart immensely. As does Hermione and Ginny knowingly smiling at each other and Harry.

Talking of ‘what if’s, you know in Deathly Hallows when Hermione falls asleep on the sofa and Ron on the floor and Harry sees them in the morning and they’ve clearly fallen asleep holding hands? Well... imagine this with Albus and Scorpius in the church. Albus is on a pew and Scorpius has collected every single cushion he can find to make a bed on the floor beside him (he’s too tall to fit longways on the bench). Imagine the adults finding them some time later and noticing how their arms have fallen, clearly meaning they were at some point most likely holding hands. Now that’s a conversation I’m sure either of them want to overhear right now. Because it isn’t about that.

It doesn’t stop Ron saying ‘bloody hell’ as he stumbles upon them. Or Hermione’s knowing smile. Or Draco’s initial internalised panic before he’s overwhelmed by relief at his son’s happiness. Or Harry experiencing déjà vu and not knowing what to do about anything. Or Ginny smacking Ron as he boosts about his love potion while she tries to contain her own delight. Because she knows right now, this doesn’t mean much more than two best friends holding onto each other for support (and probably out of fear the other will disappear as soon as they close their eyes). But she’s got a feeling it probably won’t stay this way...

Act Four, Scene Ten

So while Ron and Draco are winding each other up in the church, I decided to watch Albus since this act is Joe’s strongest. He did not disappoint. When Ron first said ‘zap her’, Albus looked across at him and smiled and nodded along. His face screamed ‘yeeeah!’, he was clearly very onboard with this ‘masterful’ plan. But then Draco laughed at the plan and pointed out it’s flaws and Albus turned to look at him and instantly changed his allegiance. He stopped getting excited over Ron’s plan and looked far more serious and started nodding along with Draco. I absolutely LOVED IT. I loved it because you got to see two sides of Albus so clearly. Because there’s aspects of Ron and Draco in his personality. He’s impulsive and funny, yet all dry humour and pure resourcefulness. (His plans are spectacular when he puts his mind to it.) So it was brilliant to watch him flit between the two so quickly.

Personally, I think these two influence Albus a lot. Or at least have in the past and will do in the future. They’re important to him. I think the way Albus runs up the stairs towards Ron in the other timeline when he’s frustrated by Harry says a lot. It makes you wonder how often he’s done that. Gone to his uncle Ron for sweets and a joke because they’re easier to ask for than support. It’s a thing they do. A code. Then of course Draco’s influence will come much later. I have no doubt about that. They’re so alike and have common interests. Although right now he’s probably just 1000% aware he no doubt blames him just slightly for dragging his son into this. He wants to make a better impression (he’s Scorpius’s dad after all) and besides, Albus is a Slytherin. He understands Draco’s logic over Ron’s Gryffindor style plan any day. (It must be nice, having grown up surrounded by Gryffindors, to finally be around an adult Slytherin.) But yeah... to see Albus stood in between these two and connect with them both was everything.

Act Four, Scene Eleven

“You’ll always be an orphan. That never leaves you.” - From the angle I was sat, I could see Scorpius perfectly over Harry’s shoulder for this line and oh boy was that interesting. So as soon as Harry says this line, Scorpius instantly looked at Harry and the look on his face broke my heart. Now I know he’s not an orphan, but it was like he was understanding that the loss of his mother was a pain that was never going to go away. It’s something that will stay with him forever, and that’s something he’s going to have to process. I feel like deep down he knew this already but hearing Harry Potter confirm it out loud clearly affected him. It only lasts a moment before he remembers where he is and what’s happening. He then quickly broke his stare and looked down at the ground. It was such a fleeting moment but it said so much about Scorpius. I guess with Albus not talking about her much and the topic being one Draco can’t seem to broach with him, having it said so plainly in front of him gave him no choice but to face it. But then after everything he’s just gone through, maybe it’s an approach he won’t hesitate so much over in the future?

Act Four, Scene Twelve

“And there’s nothing I can do to stop him” “That’s not true” - Draco’s line was said in a slightly different tone today but that’s not what threw me. It was the fact Draco flicked his robe back and reached for his wand. I have never, ever seen a Draco do that before and I was in shock. (Or at least never so aggressively? That’s what caught my eye. The forcefulness with which he did it.) Because what could he have done? Gone after Voldemort himself? I could understand that on some level. For his childhood and for how it’s still affecting his son’s life. But then Scorpius reached over and put his hand on him and said, “Dad, now is not the time”, and he stopped. It was like it hit him where he was and who he was now. You could see the effect Scorpius has had on him. His whole body changed as he realised what he instinctively wanted to do and what he needed to do where totally different because he was different now. (I wonder how that felt? Having those feelings take over so quickly. I wonder if Scorpius has similar fears with the Scorpion King? I wonder if when/how Draco and Scorpius discuss this?!) The fact he then spends every second of the rest of this scene holding Scorpius so tightly in his arms to comfort him tells you everything you need to know about who Draco is now. This is how this man protects his son, by putting his needs first. Nothing shows how much he’s grown like this scene does.

While it was a super interesting choice for this scene, I’m not sure I could take it every time. My heart stopped beating for a second there. I mean, let’s face it. Draco would no doubt lose a duel against Voldemort. But I guess that glimpse of the old Draco was intriguing. But orphaning his son is not an option. Revenge, fear, justice. Those instincts mean nothing compared to what his son means to him.

I have to say, it reminded me a lot of Albus. Albus is headstrong and fuelled by his need to defend Scorpius during the torture scene, yet one gesture/word from Scorpius and it stops him. That parallel is fascinating. I’ve always said those two are more alike than they realise right now. But once they get to know each other they’ll be a force to be reckoned with.

Act Four, Scene Fifteen

“That heart is a good one” - As Harry said this, he pointed at Albus’s heart and a second later, it was like Albus realised what his dad was saying and instantly got a little bit embarrassed by the compliment. He quickly zipped up his hoodie and turned round away from his dad to hide and Harry laughed so much. Albus, realising everything is surprisingly okay between them, turns back to face his dad and gives him a shy little smile. It was adorably sweet. My heart...

The Harry and Albus hug at the very end hit me right in the feels. Harry reached his arm round Albus’s back and Albus looked down at his dad’s hand on his shoulder and smiled. He then rested his head on his dad’s shoulder and pretty much tucked himself into his chest. They both looked so happy. Harry then put his other arm round Albus and brought them into a proper hug and as the lights went down, I cried like the little girl that I am. These Potters have a lot to answer for.

#harry potter and the cursed child #cursed child play #this is very draco heavy and it's all james's fault #TCCleanne

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nadjaofstatenisland · 6 years

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The Parent ‘Cap 1x06 - Faster Pussycats! Kill! Kill!

Alice making Jughead uncomfortable over breakfast is everything.

But what’s even better? The picture of Alice with Hal’s arms around her next to her purse. What’s even better than that? The picture of Alice and Hal six inches away from that picture, clearly from the same photoshoot.

First shot of businesswoman Hermione, coming to do the books.

FRED CAN’T LET HIS GUYS GO. The last time… and let your heart slowly break, because you know he’s talking about FP.

Fred and his elaborate plan to ask out Hermione. “So I need to woo the mayor but cooking her up a fancy dinner to get this contract. Only, I need a pretty lady on my arms because, well, this made more sense in my head.”

HAND OF THE CHEST. HAND ON HER HAND.

SLOPPY MAKE OUT. SLOPPY MAKE OUT SLOPPY MAKE OUT. This is officially our only real riverparent kiss, besides that quick one between Alice and Hal in the next episode (that’s a dream of course, but I still count it) and Sierra and Tom in season 2.

Fred wanting to gush about Hermione to Archie is fucking adorable. You know he wants to belly flop on that bed and put his chin in his hands and tell Archie how Hermione smells like lavender.

Oh Sierra. She has a great way of talking Josie up and trying to make her forget about bad situation. Although damn, I hate the way she casually brings up Myles being a dick. Is it always walk on eggshells whenever he’s home?

Speaking of which, what does Myles do? Is he a musician? An agent? A scout? Does he just travel the country going to different jazz festivals?

‘We’ve never even kissed before today.” Or not in the past 20-odd years at least. When did these two have sex? When did they have the time? Did they go bang on Hermione’s desk after Veronica walked away?

Did Hermione and Hiram never have the “what’s okay?” talk before he went to prison? I’m sorry, but if my husband is going away for an indefinite amount of time, I think I can bang other people. As if Hiram isn’t getting dick in prison as this was all going on.

I know Alice and Hal made some bad decisions but I still never believe all of Polly. Especially this episode. She sounds wacky as anything. Maybe it’s because no one talks at the Sisters.

Ugh. I hate everything about the confrontation in the hallway. It’s heartbreaking.

Myles. You dick. I love Myles and Sierra’s passive aggressive snips at each other.

“JOSIE WHY AREN’T YOU FAMOUS YET?” - Myles at some point probably

I love how Hal dances around the question when Betty asks him about the files. It’s not lying if you don’t answer!

Alice laughing at the idea of Hal killing Jason is great. The crying turning to laughter. I’m so sorry, Hal.

Fred Andrews… chasing a dollar. Bitch, you don’t know his life.

Hermione has ZERO poker face when Sierra talks about the buyer. Thank God Fred is too distracted to notice.

Fred, full offence but if your son doesn’t know who Bob Dylan is that is partly your fault. Educate the boy.

Why did Hermione even ask Veronica in the first place? She’s a minor. Can she even sign those documents without her guardian’s consent?

I like to pretend Alice and Hal were sitting in the living room minding their own business as Fred’s ladder went past the window.

Sierra made those pussycat outfits herself. Fight me on it.

Fred and Hermione sitting together!

FP “Serpents only deal with dimebags of weed” Jones. I have seen a lot of weed in my day and none of it looked like that.

Would it have killed Myles to stay for the last 10 seconds of his daughter’s set? The guy sitting in front of them in the green enjoyed the fuck out of that performance at least.

They could have used “focus someone who makes you feel safe” to set up a Varchie moment but I love that they made it a father/son moment instead. Give us more parent/child moments! Or just parent moments. Whatever’s cool.

These pesky kids interrupting Tom as he watches his son host the variety show.

Is this the first time Fred and Veronica… meet?

Sierra holding her crying daughter in the bathroom. Kill me.

A few other things...

You know why this is such a good episode? Several plots and they all get a pretty even amount of screentime. What’s the main storyline? I want to say Betty and Jughead but maybe not. All the stories are well balanced and I wish all episodes were written this way.

Polly’s room at the Sister’s is at least three times the size of my childhood bedroom and I shared that room with my sister. Your life isn’t that bad.

Val and Archie sing a quick snippet of the song they wrote, I Got You. I never like the songs Archie “wrote” but this is a great one. Go listen to it on Spotify or YouTube right the fuck now. It’s so much better than the song he actually sings.

I’m not typically one to get all gushy over kisses, but I actually love the first Bughead kiss. The scene is so detailed and well shot and honestly, I don’t know much hard I would have shipped them without this first kiss. I miss the Jughead here. Ugh. What the hell happened to him.

“There’s always room for one more kitty in my litterbox.” This is both the most horrible and best line on this whole show. My husband still quotes this one.

Val is too good for Archie simply because Val is too good for everyone.

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headcanonsandmore · 5 years

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“Summer in the City”, A Romione AU fanfiction

Okay, before I start, I need to share a little backstory. A few weeks back, I posted a short Romione conversation that was a reference to a scene from ‘Fullmetal Alchemist; Brotherhood’. It was just a spur-of-the-moment post, which I thought was quite funny.

However, @vivithefolle then suggested that I turn it into a fanfiction. Already, plot ideas were beginning to form in my mind.

Cue several days worth of writing, drafting and general authorial stuff, I ended up with a finished fic. Which is just below.

Hope you all enjoy it! If you feel so inclined, please like and reblog, and leave comments/reviews/kudos on the FFN and AO3 pages for the fic!

Read it on FFN.

Read it on AO3.

Hermione Granger was in a good mood.

After back-and-forth letters with her two best friends for the past three weeks, they had finally decided on a day to meet up in The Leaky Cauldron.

Harry had never had the chance to sight-see around London due to his horrible relatives the Dursleys.

And Ron… well, where to start with Ron?

He was a pureblood wizard who had grown up in rural Devon. The only times he had interacted in Muggle London were the brief journeys to and from Kings Cross Station at the start and end of each academic year. He had grown up in the wizarding world, and therefore didn’t really under the muggle world; although (like all the Weasley family) he found it interesting rather than uncomfortable.

On top of that, Ron was also kind, caring, funny, and utterly gorgeous.

Hermione had been well aware of all of this for several years now. Ron Weasley was… an enigma. He wasn’t academically minded like she was (although his grades were fine). He wasn’t traditionally handsome. He was the complete opposite of the boys Hermione’s parents expected her to be attracted to.

And yet, he got under Hermione’s skin. She could argue and bicker with him, and not feel like he was getting sick of her. If anything, he seemed to enjoy their bickering. To an outsider, it might seem like they couldn’t stand each-other, but nothing could be further from the truth.

They might not have matched up on paper, but Ron Weasley was (in virtually every way) Hermione Granger’s perfect other half. Where she was logical, he was emotional. Where she was intense, he was relaxed. The cool water to her raging fire.

Hermione was doomed. Before she had even realised it, she had fallen inescapably in love with Ron Weasley. Before she had even started noticing boys, she had noticed Ron.

She had never stopped noticing him. When he was in a room, her eyes were irresistibly drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. When he spoke, his voice sent shivers down her spine and butterflies into her stomach. When he laughed, the sound was like bird-song to Hermione’s ears.

Needless to say, it had been ridiculous of her not to realise her feelings sooner.

Granted, her feelings for Ron had impacted slightly on her judgement regarding the planning of the meet-up in Muggle London. But Harry would be there as well, a platonic buffer who would prevent Hermione completely losing her head around their mutual redheaded best friend.

Often, Hermione wished that Harry wasn’t around them quite as much, so she could spent some time alone with Ron. She liked Harry a lot; he was like a brother to her, but she did despair of his constant presence around her and Ron.

However, this would not be the case tomorrow.

A few hours previously, she had sent Ron’s Owl Pigwidgeon away with her reply to Ron’s last letter, which covered what parts of Muggle London they would be visiting.

She’d suggested The British Museum and the National Gallery, plus a look around the Westminster area, and she was hoping Ron would like her choices.

As if responding to her thoughts, Pigwidgeon promptly bounced off the glass of her bedroom window, having flown straight into the pane.

Chuckling slightly, Hermione opened the window, and the slightly-dazed owl swooped into the room, dropping Ron’s reply into Hermione’s hands as it did so.

As Pigwidgeon began to drink out of a cup of tea nearby, Hermione opened up the letter, and read.

Hermione,

How typical of you is that? Museums, art galleries and popping round the houses of parliament?! Me and Harry need to have more of a bad influence on you!

Seriously, though, that all sounds great! Looking forward to catching up with you. And Harry, of course.

Miss you,

Can’t wait to see you,

Ron

Hermione smiled to herself. She couldn’t help but re-read those last three lines over and over again.

She hurriedly pulled a scrap bit of parchment towards her and wrote quickly;

Ron,

Glad you like those choices; hopefully, you won’t be completely bored out of your mind! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow (and Harry as well)!

I miss you too,

Love,

Hermione

Hermione felt her heart beat quicker as she looked down at the second-to-last line. True, she did write the same in her letters to Harry, but that was different. With Harry, it was familial. Like she was his older sister, and he was her (slightly annoying) little brother who kept getting into mischief.

But with Ron?

With Ron, she always blushed a little writing those ‘love’s; it felt like she was sneaking a little confession of her feelings into every letter she sent to the redheaded boy.

She gave her reply to Pigwidgeon; who gave a happy hoot and promptly soured straight into the closed side of the window. Hermione chuckled again as the owl bounced off the glass, and flew out the open side instead.

Hermione looked down at Ron’s letter again. Did he really miss her that much? Who would miss her? And miss her so much that they’d happily wander around museums and art galleries just to be with her again?

Did Ron-?

Honestly, she chastised herself, don’t get your hopes up; we’re just meeting up. And Harry’s going to be there the entire time, so it’s not we’re going on a date-

Hermione’s train of thought was interrupted as a loud tap at the window. Hedwig was stood on her window-still.

Hermione let the snowy owl in. Taking the letter from Hedwig’s claws, she skim-read Harry’s handwriting.

Hermione,

Sorry, but I can’t make it. Dumbledore’s just sent me a letter warning me not to wander around the muggle world. Hopefully, Ron won’t hate me for skipping out (send him my regards, by the way).

Enjoy your date,

Harry

Maybe she was just being paranoid, but Hermione had the distinct impression Harry had written the letter whilst laughing. She also very much doubted that Dumbledore had asked Harry not to wander around Muggle London; security wasn’t that tight, even for Harry.

Her eyes ran over Harry’s letter again.

“Enjoy your date”

Hermione’s stomach seemed to drop several feet. A date? With Ron? No, they were just two friends spending time together. Yes, she had been attracted to Ron since she was thirteen years old. But her one-sided feelings didn’t automatically make it a date.

It could never happen between her and Ron. He was brave, and kind, and sweet, and friendly, and just wonderful. And she was Hermione Granger, a brainy know-it-all with no social skills.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as the usual tears threatened to spill.

No, she thought loudly at herself, you can’t beat yourself up over this. Sure, Ron doesn’t fancy you, but he’s still your friend. He cares about you.

Hermione spent the night tossing and turning; never able to entirely relax. Eventually, she fell into an uneasy sleep, full of dreams revolving around Ron ignoring her to stare at a parade of Veela women. It didn’t take an ‘Outstanding’ in Divination to figure out what that meant.

In fact, Hermione slept so badly that she almost slept through her alarm. After ten minutes of it ringing, she finally woke up.

It took her so long to tame her bushy hair (which had chosen that day of all days to develop massive tangles everywhere) that she almost missed the underground train to Charring Cross.

She nervously opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, and waited nearby the fireplace where Ron would be travelling to by floo-powder from the Burrow.

Hermione leant against a nearby wall, and tried to catch her breath back. The pub was almost completely empty (which was unusual for that time of year), although Tom the old barman was stood reading a book behind the bar.

Well, here we go, Hermione thought, trying to calm her busying heart, just you and Ron spending a day together as friends, don’t get your hopes up…

But she couldn’t help but get her hopes up. She had never spent a day alone with Ron during the summer holidays. Even when they had been ensconced in Grimmauld Place the previous summer, there had always been other people around. They’d been so focused on cleaning the house that they’d never really gotten a chance to relax around each-other. And besides, that been before Ron had given her that perfume for a Christmas present. Before she had even dared to hope that maybe… just maybe… he might see her as more than a friend.

Hermione smiled sadly to herself. It was a pretty forlorn hope, but she couldn’t help it.

Without warning, the fireplace burst into flames, and a redheaded figure emerged, beaming from ear-to-ear.

‘Hermione!’

Ron Weasley was stood in front of her, his blue eyes glistening in the light of the lamps nearby, and his face covered in soot. He was wearing an old t-shirt (no doubt Charlie’s, considering the dragon imprinted on the front), and a pair of slightly-too-short jeans that had clearly seen better days.

In other words, he was breathtakingly handsome.

Hermione felt goosebumps erupt along her arms and back as Ron pulled her into a tight hug. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of soot, chocolate and freshly-mown grass.

There was an audible chuckle from nearby, and Ron hurriedly let go, his ears turning red.

Tom, the old barman of the pub, was grinning knowingly at the two teenagers. This clearly wasn’t the first time two young sorcerers had met up for the day in his pub.

‘Er, should we…?’ Ron asked, trailing off. He looked rather uncomfortable. Hermione felt her heart sink slightly; was the assumption that they were a couple that distressing for him?

‘O-oh, yes!’ Hermione squeaked, trying to keep her voice cheerful as she began to move towards the door. ‘We’ve got so much to see!’

A few minutes later, they were walking towards the British Museum. Ron had insisted on paying for his own ticket, using some Muggle money he’d changed in Gringotts earlier in the summer.

Hermione has always loved wandering around museums. The British Museum was, of course, one of the best around (at least, in London, anyway). She remembered the first time she had visited it as a small child with her mother and father. Even at such a young age, she’d been deeply intrigued in every exhibit.

Today was no exception. There was a fascinating study on early Rome, as well as an in-depth exhibit on the ancient Britons. And another one on the industrial revolution and another one on the Tudors and….

Hermione heard an all-too-familiar chuckle.

She looked up from the glass case she was looking at to see Ron grinning at her, dimples appearing in his cheeks.

‘What is it?’ she asked, feeling a little embarrassed. Had she reminded me of how much of a swot she was? Well done Hermione, she thought, you get one day alone with him and you just ignore him…. ‘Sorry, are you getting bored?’

‘Not at all,’ said Ron, still smiling down at her. ‘I just think it’s nice to see you enjoying yourself.’

Hermione felt her face burn. Did Ron not realise how wonderful he was when he said things like that? He was going to give her heart failure if he wasn’t careful.

A few hours later, they wandered over to the National Gallery. Ron took his time looking at each individual painting. Hermione had assured him that none of the paintings would be moving, but he still insisted on staring at each just in case they did move.

In some of the galleries, Ron even looked slightly emotional. Such was the case when looking at examples of Norwegian artwork that used stark contrasts of lightness and darkness to make a mood. Ron’s eyes teared up at one point, and Hermione cautiously rested her hand on his arm. He smiled down at her, and Hermione’s stomach turned over.

In other galleries, Ron was much more cheerful. In the gallery labelled ‘Abstract Expressionism’, Ron bounced around, grinning from ear to ear.

‘What a painting, Hermione!’ he whisper-shouted, smiling broadly. ‘It doesn’t look like anything!’

‘That’s the point, Ron!’ Hermione giggled, as she watched the redheaded young man rock excitedly on the balls of his feet.

‘These muggles were mad!’ Ron grinned, before catching himself. ‘Er, not in a bad way, of course. A bit like how you go mad over school-work.’

Hermione felt her cheeks flush with warmth. If anyone-else had said that about her, she would have been insulted. But she knew Ron didn’t mean it like that; he genuinely liked how much of a swot she was.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Hey, Hermione; look at that!’

‘Ron, that’s a cinema poster…’

‘I know, isn’t it cool?!’

Hermione smiled; they had just finished looking round the Houses of Parliament, and were wandering back to the leaky cauldron. Ron was pointing at ordinary muggle things, and grinning happily like a child in a sweet shop. Despite how much he’d try to deny it, Ron really was extraordinarily like his father.

Ron was still grinning at the poster in wide-eyed wonder.

‘Hey, look at that boy…’

‘I know, right…’

Hermione’s attention was diverted towards three girls standing nearby. They looked roughly Hermione’s age, and were all unashamedly staring at Ron.

‘He’s gorgeous…’

‘Why’s he staring at that poster?’

‘Who cares? Look at those muscles….’

Hermione felt her jaw clench, as she processed what was happening. These girls were mentally undressing Ron… her Ron…not that he was her possession, of course… but he was still her friend…

‘That girl’s glaring at us…’

‘The one with the bushy hair?...’

‘Must be his girlfriend…’

The three girls seem to quail under Hermione’s angry glare, and they quickly slipped away.

‘Hermione, you okay?’

Ron had turned away from the poster, looking at Hermione. His face was concerned. Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken.

‘I’m fine, Ron,’ she said, smiling. ‘Is there anything else you’d like to see?’

Ron knotted his brow, thinking hard. Then, a thought seemed to occur to him.

‘Wait, I haven’t seen your house yet!’

Hermione’s stomach seemed to turn over.

‘No, you haven’t,’ she mumbled, her heart-beat quickening. ‘I mean, are you sure? It’s not that interesting-’

‘But it is!’ Ron replied, grinning broadly. ‘It’s where you live, isn’t it! Besides, we’ve been friends for years, and you’ve seen my house. Please, Hermione?’

Hermione felt her resolve crumble under Ron’s enormous puppy-dog eyes. Why couldn’t she ever say no to him?

‘O-okay, then.’ Hermione stammered. ‘We’ll have to get the underground…’

Ron spent the underground ride happily grinning around. Hermione couldn’t help but stare at him; he really did stick out like a sore thumb in muggle London. Not only was he so unused to the muggle world, but he was also a small-town boy at heart. The commuters around them eyed Ron with the same suspicion they regarded anyone who showed friendliness on public transport. Hermione distinctly remembered a Northerner once causing utter panic on an underground line by saying ‘hello’ to everyone they met.

At one point, the carriage became so crowded that Hermione felt herself pressed up against Ron’s chest. He was so close that she could hear his heartbeat through his clothes.

‘S-sorry,’ she mumbled against his t-shirt. ‘It can get very busy on here.’

‘No…No problem,’ Ron replied. Hermione wondered whether his ears were turning red, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at his face.

Mercifully, they finally reached Hampstead, and exited the underground train.

‘Oooh, look at that boy…’

‘Shhhh, he’ll hear you…’

Oh, not again….

Sure enough, there were several teenage girls standing just outside the station, and every single one of them was staring at Ron.

Hermione could happily admit that Ron was very attractive, but did every girl on the planet have to realise it too?

‘Wow, muggle London is brilliant, Hermione! Today’s been amazing!’ Ron grinned, smiling down at her.

Hermione tried not to feel smug as the collective mouths of the girls around them dropped open. Did they think that Hermione was Ron’s girlfriend? That was a nice thought.

They began to walk towards Hermione’s house, which was a few streets away. The initial awkwardness from the train ride had dissipated, and the two of them had a nice conversation going.

However, Ron happened to be standing nearby a large puddle of water as a double-decker bus went straight through it.

A tidal wave of water swept over Ron, and he stumbled backwards in shock.

‘Well, that was unexpected,’ Ron chuckled, spitting water out of his mouth. ‘You okay, Hermione?’

Hermione seemed to have lost the ability to talk. Ron’s t-shirt was now almost entirely transparent, revealing strong chest muscles and a few coppery ginger hairs around his belly button.

‘Y-yes,’ Hermione mumbled, dropping her eyes from Ron’s torso. ‘Er, I think so. Not sure about you, though.’

‘Oh, this?’ Ron asked, ringing out the excess water from his shirt and revealing his lower stomach (Hermione’s eyes couldn’t help burning the image into her mind). ‘I’ll be fine. It’s summer, after all.’

Hermione let out a mental groan. Did he really not realise what he was doing to her?

A few minutes later, they had reached Hermione’s home.

‘Wow!’ Ron exclaimed, his eyes widening. ‘It’s enormous!’

Hermione felt her face burn. Her parents were reasonably wealthy (they were both dentists, after all), but she had didn’t think they were that rich. The house wasn’t really anything to comment on; in fact, compared to many others in the neighbourhood, it was actually quite cosy. Hermione’s parents weren’t especially extravagant; they were quiet people who desired a quiet life.

Trying not to let Ron realise how embarrassed she was, Hermione led him up the garden path. Both of her parents’ cars were away, as they were both at work.

‘Hello, Hermione!’

Hermione let out a small squeak. Mrs Parkins, her parents’ neighbour, was cleaning her car just across the wall. She had put down her bucket of soapy water, and had wondered over, waving.

Warily, Hermione raised her hand in greeting.

‘Hello, Mrs Parkins…’

‘Oooh, who’s your companion?’ the elderly lady asked, motioning towards Ron, who was standing off to the side, looking slightly self-conscious.

‘Oh, this is Ron…’ Hermione mumbled; trying not to dwell on the fact that Ron’s t-shirt was still transparent. ‘He’s….er… someone from my boarding school…’

‘Boarding school? What do you- Oh…’ Ron said, cottoning on after he noticed the look on Hermione’s face. ‘Er, yes… we’ve known each-other a long time.’

Mrs Parkins raised her eyebrows as her gaze hovered over Ron’s soaked appearance.

‘I see,’ she said, giving Hermione a knowing look that made her cheeks burn again. ‘Well, it was nice to meet you, Ron. It’s not very often Hermione brings young men home-’

‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Parkins!’ Hermione exclaimed, hurrying Ron through the front door before her neighbour said anything-else embarrassing. ‘Good to see you!’

Hermione quickly closed the door behind her, and let out a sigh.

‘So…’ Ron giggled, taking off his trainers. ‘“It’s not very often Hermione brings young men home”, eh?’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Hermione groaned, her cheeks burning. ‘Will you just go and get changed, please?’

‘Get changed?’

‘Yes! You’re soaked through! You’ll catch your death if you don’t take your clothes off!’

Ron’s eyes widened. Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth. Had she really just said that?

‘Oh, you mean…. for a shower?’ Ron offered, after a long pause. ‘Is that okay? I wouldn’t want to, you know, impose…’

‘It’s… it’s fine, honestly.’

‘Okay…’

‘It’s the second door on the right.’

‘Thanks.’

Ron flashed a brief smile, and then climbed up the stairs.

Hermione let out an internal groan. This day was just making things more complicated…

~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione sat down on her bed, and tried to maintain her cool. This wasn’t easy as she could hear the boy she fancied stripping his clothes off in the next room. With every wet slap that the clothes made as they dropped onto the tiles, Hermione’s stomach gave a guilty squirm.

Do not think about Ron naked, she told herself sternly; do not think about your best friend naked…

The water turned on in the bathroom, and Hermione heard Ron clamber into the shower. She could hear the water splashing.

Hermione felt her breathing intensify, and she hurriedly shook her head, trying to get all images of a very-wet-and-very-naked Ron out of her mind.

Hermione’s bedroom door burst open, but it wasn’t Ron.

‘Hello, dear!’ Hermione’s mother exclaimed, her mouth stretched into a wide grin. ‘The neighbours said you’ve brought a handsome redheaded boy back to your room!’

Hermione felt her face burn with embarrassment, and she promptly fell off her bed onto the floor.

‘It’s Ron, mum!’ Hermione spluttered, picking herself up off the floor. ‘He’s my best friend!’

‘Oh…’ Mrs Granger said in surprise, raising a hand to her mouth, her eyes twinkling. ‘I see. So, you’ve seduced your best friend-’

‘THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID AT ALL, MUM; WERE YOU EVEN LISTENING-?’

‘Er… Hermione, you wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, would you…’

Ron appeared in the doorway, and Hermione’s heart seemed to fail. He was wearing nothing but a small towel tied around his waist. He was drying his glistening red hair with another towel. Hermione’s eyes became glued to his torso, which had a few teasing spots of water still clinging on, not just to the skin but to the delectable coppery hairs around his belly button and trailing down towards…

Oh dear…

Hermione felt her face burning again as she tore her eyes away from Ron. Thankfully, he’d been too surprised by her mother to notice Hermione’s moment of unashamed ogling. She couldn’t risk losing control like that again. It was too dangerous.

‘Oh hello, Ron!’ Mrs Granger grinned, managing to contain her laughter at her daughters’ flustered reaction. ‘I didn’t realise you were here!’

‘H-hello, Mrs Granger,’ Ron said, looking a little embarrassed to be seen wearing so little in front of his friends’ mother. ‘Sorry to impose… my clothes got soaked earlier…’

‘It’s fine. I’m sure Hermione’s not bothered.’

‘MUM!’

Hermione’s face burned again. Was it her imagination, or were Ron’s ears turning pink?

Mrs Granger chuckled.

‘Don’t worry, dear. I won’t be here for long; I was just popping back for some paperwork. I’ll see you this evening!’

Mrs Granger shut Hermione’s bedroom door behind her.

A few seconds later, they heard the front door slam from the floor below. Ron and Hermione were, once again, alone.

‘Er…’ Ron mumbled, looking very awkward in his small towel. ‘So… those clothes…’

‘Oh, yes!’ Hermione exclaimed. ‘Bare with me a moment!’

Stepping back inside her room, she grabbed an old pair of jogging bottoms (large enough to fit Ron) and a baggy t-shirt.

‘Thanks!’ Ron said, as Hermione shoved them into his arms. ‘Wait, are these yours-’

‘Just put them on!’

‘Er, what-?’

‘In the bathroom, obviously!’

‘Geez, you don’t have to yell…’ Ron chuckled, walking out of the room. ‘I wasn’t gonna strip in front of you…’

Hermione waited until Ron was out of sight before screwing her face up in her hands. She could barely contain the scream that was threatening to explode from her mouth.

Did Ron honestly think that she wanted him to…to…

Hermione’s stomach gave a guilty lurch. She’d never admit, but that was exactly what she wanted. But she wasn’t going to tell him that.

Ron re-entered the room. Hermione couldn’t help but notice the way the t-shirt clung to his muscles, and how the jogging bottoms seemed rather tight on him. She wasn’t complaining though.

‘Hermione?’

‘Er, sorry, Ron, what is it?’

‘You’re… staring at me.’

Hermione’s stomach turned over again.

‘S-sorry,’ she mumbled, her face burning as she unsuccessfully attempted to tear her eyes away from his face.

‘No, it’s okay,’ Ron said, his cheeks dimpling as he smiled. ‘I’m not gonna complain if a girl looks at me.’

‘Like those girls earlier, you mean?’

‘What?’

Hermione groaned. She wished she’d kept her big mouth shut. Why did she have to get jealous now of all times?

‘There were girls staring at me?’ Ron asked, surprised. ‘Why? Did I have something stuck in my hair?’

‘No!’ Hermione shouted. Why was he still the only person who didn’t realise how amazing he was? ‘They were staring because you’re gorgeous, and beautiful, and jaw-droppingly attractive!’

There was a deafening pause. Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth in a futile attempt to somehow make the words go back in. But it was too late; her words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

Ron’s eyes had grown wide, and his mouth had fallen open.

Hermione dropped her vision to her knees. She couldn’t look at Ron, petrified of seeing the rejection she expected on every inch of his face.

‘You… you think I’m attractive?’

Ron’s voice didn’t sound disgusted, or uncomfortable. If anything, he sounded… hopeful? Were Hermione’s ears playing tricks on her?

‘Y-yes. And…well, those girls certainly did.’ Hermione mumbled, wishing he’d just reject her and get it over with. The waiting was killing her.

‘Really? I…I didn’t notice them, to be honest.’

Hermione’s eyes flicked up to Ron’s. He was looking at her, smiling earnestly and yet shyly. As if he was choosing his words carefully. Why did he need to be careful? Wasn’t he rejecting her?

‘Why?’

Ron’s ears turned red, and he began absentmindedly playing with a loose strand on Hermione’s duvet.

‘I… I was too busy looking at you, Hermione.’

He said this all very quickly, as if he couldn’t contain his words any longer.

Hermione felt her face burn again, and her eyes grew wide.

Could this be…? Did Ron…?

No, it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. There was no way that Ron Weasley- kind, caring, funny, gorgeous, wonderful Ron Weasley- could ever fall for a plain bossy know-it-all like her.

Ron’s eyes seemed to sparkle as they met Hermione’s. He began to lean forward towards her slowly, as if giving her time to move away from him if she felt uncomfortable.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Hermione felt her body being pulled irresistibly towards Ron. They were so close that she could feel Ron’s heartbeat through the light t-shirt he was wearing.

As one, the two young people slipped back onto Hermione’s duvet, so that Ron was leaning over Hermione, his face barely an inch from hers. Hermione was distinctly aware of Ron’s thigh pressing against her leg, and how his gorgeous blue eyes seemed to catch the sunshine emanating through the window.

Hermione’s brain seemed to disengage. Ron’s lips were now a hairs breath from her own, and she could feel his breath- husky and warm- against her skin.

As if from another universe, the sound of a door opening reached Hermione’s ears.

‘Oh, so you weren’t seducing him, dear?’

‘MUM!’

Hermione’s mum left the room and closed the door, laughing cheerily as she walked down the stairs and slammed the front door. Blushing furiously, Hermione covered her face in her hands and groaned.

Ron giggled and tucked a strand of Hermione’s bushy hair behind her ear.

‘Don’t worry; my mum would have probably yelled at me if she caught us like this in my room.’

Hermione smiled, giggling.

‘Is that a promise, Ron Weasley?’

Ron grinned down at her, a mischievous look appearing in his eye.

‘Oh, definitely, Hermione!’

Hermione Granger smiled up into the face of the boy she loved, as their lips finally met for the first time.

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you liked it!

#romione #romione fanfiction #romione fanfic #alternative universe #harry potter alternative universe #romione au #ron and hermione #ron x hermione #hermione and ron #hermione x ron #ronmione #fanfiction #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #fma reference #fmab #fmab reference

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jessiyl · 7 years

Text

Bonus- The Smurg- Chapter One

After refusing to accept devastating losses in the war against Voldemort, Hermione goes back in time to change it all. A different sort of time travel - Hermione/Grindelwald

Chapter One

The war was finally over, and Hermione released a disgruntled sigh. She thought she would feel relieved or safe, but she didn’t. The only thing she felt was an overwhelming numbness. Standing in the ruins of the final battle, she watched the few people who were still alive as they milled around, searching for their loved ones. No longer could she see the faces of the dead and her eyes skipped over scenes that had been pushing to the back of her head over the last several hours. Harry’s lifeless body was slumped over top of Voldemort’s scaly one, both perishing under each other’s deadly wand. Ron’s body lay mangled and partly masticated, his neck flayed open. Fenrir, who was lying face up next to him, had entrails spilling from the ravaged cavity, a spell of Hermione’s own making. In a small alcove, partially hidden from the direct battle was Rabastian Lestrange’s body that was lying over Luna’s, his larger body nearly hiding the petite girl completely.

Hermione was struck by the amount of death that surrounded her. After three years of fighting in the conflict after Dumbledore's death, both sides had suffered severe losses. But, none more catastrophic than at this battle. Even still, the soldiers on both sides were few, numbering in the thirties for either side. Guerrilla warfare left whole villages nothing but ashes in their wake. The blood of innocents running like rivers across the land.

Hermione violently startled as she heard shuffling nearby. Her head whipped in that direction nearly as quickly as her wand, which she now held at the ready. For a moment, it was pointed assuredly at Draco Malfoy as he ignored her presence completely. His mother lay dead at his feet and he knelt next to her, running his hands over her hair, smoothing the wisps away from her lifeless face. Hermione dropped her wand arm to her side. Narcissa had been the first casualty of the second wave. She died a traitor’s death from Voldemort’s own wand. It was painful and brutal, a flesh-eating spell that destroyed her from the inside out. It was her punishment, Voldemort had yelled, for the lie of Harry’s death.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this.” He whimpered, just loud enough for Hermione to hear. Hermione stood watching as Malfoy grieved for his mother, feeling neither compassion for his loss nor sorrow for her own.

She dragged her eyes off of Malfoy and looked around at the survivors noticing that most of them were scavengers, those that were too cowardly to take part in the actual battle. She continued to stand rooted to her spot, thinking about all of the things that could have been done, the things she could have changed that would have saved these people. Their deaths were on her hands.

She was the one who started this battle. Having been caught unaware Hermione battled for her life and before long, Harry and Ron, true to form, came to save her. She should never have left their encampment, even if they were starving.

She jumped once more as she felt a strong hand enclose hers, pulling her off the battlefield. Her wand was savagely thrust into the tender side of whoever it was who captured her. Softly murmured words filled her ears and she vaguely registered that Draco Malfoy was not her enemy and hasn't been for years. The Order had given him and his mother sanctuary after the disastrous battle of Hogwarts during that first year on the run. It took them a long time to stop hurling insults at each other, but Malfoy had saved their arses more than once and was firmly on the allies’ side of the war. He was hunted just as much as Harry was. Had been. Hermione dropped her arm.

She scrunched her eyes shut refusing to accept that the costly win was any kind of victory at all. Gently, Malfoy pulled her closer to his toned chest, wrapping his long arms around her body. The compression of apparition made her stomach heave and once they landed, Hermione took deep gulps of fresh air. Blinking rapidly against her watering eyes, she tried to focus on something else, anything else. He let her rest a moment before taking her hand again and she passively let herself be led. She didn’t care anymore anyway. There was no reason why she should live while everyone else… She closed her eyes again battling another round of nausea and desperately tried to repress those thoughts that seemed to lurk just beneath the surface, just waiting for her to become vulnerable so that it could drown her. At last, she opened her eyes to look around at her new surroundings.

Draco squeezed her hand lightly, running his thumb over the back, and led her to a chateau that materialized far in the distance through a light veil of fog. She tensed and nearly panicked when she saw the large house in the distance, nearly unbelieving that he had brought her back to the scene of her torture, Malfoy Manor. After a moment, she realized that the chateau in the distance was as different from the Manor as night from day.

He tugged on their clasped hands to get her moving. It wasn’t a pushy, demanding tug, it was the kind where he was asking her to trust him, to remember that he wouldn’t hurt her. Her parents, dead. Harry, dead. All the Weasley’s, dead. Everyone she knew from the Order, dead. Her classmates, dead. What was left? The wizarding world was in shambles. It was Pompeii after Vesuvius erupted. The wizarding world of Britain basically comprised of the two of them and a handful more. Draco Malfoy was all she had left in the world.

He pulled her through the sprawling mansion, leading her up the stairs and down richly carpeted hallways. She barely noticed the portraits on the walls and they were oddly mute, severe-looking witches and wizards flitting from frame to frame. Following them through the manse like a macabre parade.

Draco stopped in front of a large ivory and gilt door and let her hand go for the first time since the battlefield. Placing his hands on the ornate handles of the double doors, he pushed, unmoving from the threshold, staring into the room. Taking up her hand again, he led her into the soft pink and white room. It was plush and well cared for. The suite of rooms being as ornate as she supposed the rest of the house to be, and the bathroom alone was large enough to fit the entire first floor of her parents’ house. Her family hadn’t been ridiculously wealthy like his but they were upper scale. Her house had been spacious and well to do in an affluent neighborhood.

“I couldn’t stay and look at them anymore, the dead bodies.” He murmured, not meeting her eyes. “You and the Order protected my mother and me when we had nowhere else to hide. Things weren't always roses between us, Hermione, but we made our peace with each other, I think. You are my best friend and have been for a while now, and I even got close to..." He stopped, not daring to say the names of her dead. “I didn’t know where else to go. The safehouses will all be empty, the Manor is not a good place for either of us, the burrow…" He stopped and cleared his throat, for the first time unsure of the decision he made to bring them to the Chateau. “You can have any room, but this is one of the nicest. I don’t want you to feel like you are a guest staying in my home. I want you to feel like you belong here. We only have each other left.”

“Okay.” Hermione agreed, lifelessly. She could hear the death screams still, a Spector haunting her with her loved one’s last moments.

“Okay?” he asked, uncertain if she knew what she was agreeing to. Dropping her hand, he turned to face her, his expression worried and a bit panicky.

The moment Malfoy let go of her hand and began talking, she tuned him out and a plan began to form. Was there any reason to stay in this world if everyone she loved was dead? No, she wasn't suicidal, she was determined. Knowing that the time turners had been destroyed, and understanding their limitations to begin with, Hermione focused on one truth. If there was a will, there was a way. She would go back and change everything.

“Okay?” He repeated, snapping his fingers in front of her face, trying to get his attention. Immediately she focused on Malfoy's face and studied the exhaustion and fear still holding him enthralled. Hermione thought he must have been expecting a fight or had rehearsed a speech to convince her to stay but he didn’t need to. Wherever he went, she too would go. And not only because he had one of the most expansive personal libraries at his fingertips but also because he was right, they were friends, and they were all each other had.

“Mmm." She acknowledged, turning her focus to the lovely room, trying to show him how grateful she was that he brought her here, away from the stench of death. She needed a shower, a good meal, and proper sleep. But she wouldn’t begin her search until tomorrow. Turning back to her host, Hermione smiled at him and moving swiftly, before she could change her mind, leaned into him and kissed him on the cheek. There were many times over the course of the years that she had done the same with Harry. It was fondness and appreciation, nothing more. He looked shocked, a deer in headlights. “Okay, Draco Malfoy, the ball is in your court, what should we do first? Where would we find the best information about time travel?”

“Time travel?”

“Uh huh.”

“I will have to think about that. I was thinking more along the lines of a bath and sleep.”

"That sounds nice," Hermione said wistfully, glancing at the door to the bathroom longingly.

“I’ll leave you to it. If you want or need anything, food included, just ask Winky.” Draco reminded as he backed out of the room closing the door behind him, leaving her alone for the first time in ages. She briefly thought about asking Winky to bring her food but decided against it. Opting for a bath and sleep first.

Hermione peeled off her clothes as she made her way into the lovely bathroom and filled the Olympic sized marble bathtub with hot water and bubbles. Easing her tired body in, Hermione's mind began to whirl into action.

Even if she had a time turner it wouldn’t be helpful. It could only go back 48 hours at the most. Maybe if she modified one… she shook her head. She would have to find the plans and build one. Her head snapped up as an idea overtook her mind. She had access to one of the most prestigious private libraries in the world, Malfoy's. If any time turner research survived, it would be in one of his properties. Not just because of the extensive collection but also because Lucius had been in Voldemort's inner circle. She would bet her wand hand that Tom Riddle had been searching for the very same thing she was. It was a place to start anyway. Malfoy library and Voldemort's personal effects. Now she would just have to put on her big girl knickers and forget that she needed to enter Malfoy Manor. Hermione was great at many things and one of them was compartmentalization. She wasn't finished with the war yet, there was no time to rest.

After bathing, she dragged her tired body to bed, not even taking the time to dress. She slid into the blankets with her towel still wrapped around her body and slid into the arms of Morpheus.

**HG**

Hermione woke bright and early, earlier than the dawn. She had meandered around the chateau hoping for a library, or even just an overflow room from the main branch. That was where Draco found her, hours later wearing only sleeping shorts and a tank, sitting with her legs crisscrossed on the floor with books scattered every which way. Her hair was a horror, a rat’s nest of uncombed curls, hastily pinned up with a single spell.

“Hermione? Everything okay?” Draco asked delicately as if she was a wild animal that he was trying not to startle.

“Hmmm?” she said distractedly, not hearing him at all. It was the response that Harry and Ron always got when they bothered her in the library. Had it been them, they would have known immediately to leave her be. But poor Draco didn’t have such extensive experience. He wasn’t used to such behavior from anyone.

“Hermione?” He repeated louder and more insistently.

“What?” She snapped, glaring at him with two open books on her lap, her finger holding her place on the page.

“I asked if you were okay! Benny was worried when he took your breakfast to your room and you weren’t there.”

“Benny?”

“My house elf, and before you start lecturing me; I am not offering him clothes, pay, or vacation. I think he would rise up and kill me just for the suggestion. He has served at the Chateau since before I was born and I doubt he would ever leave.”

Hermione scoffed, turning back to her books.

“Merlin, why are you so impossible to deal with today?” He muttered. “You aren’t the only one who lost family yesterday. Speaking of, we should go back and bury them.”

“We didn’t lose anyone, not yet, until I am forced to admit that traveling back in time is impossible I will never consider them dead. You can’t bury them because I will fix this. I will!” She set her jaw, her eyes narrowed and fierce.

“We did lose them! Everyone we loved died yesterday and even if you save everyone’s life by fixing time, they still died and they deserve to be treated as if their lives and sacrifices matter. Even if you change everything, they still died!” He argued just as passionately. “What if it takes us years to find a way? Are you going to let their bodies rot where they lay?”

Hermione looked up into his face and stared open-mouthed. He was nothing like the boy she knew from Hogwarts. This Malfoy cared about other people and he unabashedly showed it. Malfoy had grown up, matured, and was a better person than she ever thought he would have been capable when they attended Hogwarts together. Knowing that she really should stop comparing him to his younger self, Hermione looked back at the book in her lap. He was right of course, those that fell during the battle should be buried but she just couldn’t do it. Not yet.

She felt a niggle of self-doubt and insecurity. What if she wasn’t able to find a way to change anything? What if she lived for the rest of her life, trapped in the Chateau with Draco, just the two of them? She shuddered at the thought. She liked him well enough, not romantically, but in the same way she liked Harry.

One week. That is what she would give herself to find a way to change the fate of the world. If she couldn’t go back in time by then, she would go with Draco and bury the dead. She wondered if the house elves could preserve the battlefield for that long. It would be terrible to bury half-rotted corpses that no longer resembled who they were in life. She would call Winky later in the privacy of her room and ask if it was possible.

Hermione smiled grimly at Malfoy and cleared a spot next to her on the floor, patting it in silent invitation. It was Draco’s turn to be confused as he slowly sank to the floor where she had indicated. She snorted, he probably didn’t understand what an honor it was for her to invite anyone, let alone him to her study session. Harry and Ron would have been shocked. She only studied with them when they needed her help and that was a long time ago.

"I am trying to find all of the information I can on time travel, time turners, and anything else that could be used to manipulate time. But I don't want to go back a day or two. I want to go back seventeen years when Voldemort was destroyed the first time. If I take him out before he kills the Potters, everything will change."

“Focusing on changing time is the path that leads to madness, Granger. You know my father and grandfather had searched the whole world for what you are talking about and it can’t be done.”

“I won’t stop until I make it possible.”

“You will give up the rest of our life for this?” He asked incredulously.

“What have I to look forward to? Do you have something better to do with your life?” She challenged.

“Your friends wouldn’t want you to waste your life on some impossible task. They would want you to find happiness.”

“Harry had an impossible task that he successfully completed. If he could kill the darkest wizard of all time at the age of nineteen, I can do this. Even if I am eighty before I accomplish it.”

“I will help you then.” He whispered and twined his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. He seemed to draw comfort from holding her hand and she squeezed back, giving as much comfort as she took.

“You will?”

"I will have you know that my grades were right up next to yours." He said disdainfully. "Plus, it's not like I have anything better to do with my life. I doubt you would agree to replenish the wizarding world with my children."

“I tell you what, if we don’t find anything by the time we are thirty, I will bear your children. Alright? Now that that is settled, we are searching for a way to send me seventeen years in the past.”

“I agree to your terms. No children unless we are still stuck here at thirty.” He grinned, no doubt amused at that way she completely brushed off the need to repopulate. “But, if we find a way, we will go together.”

“If it is possible, fine.”

“See, it’s not so hard being my ally.”

“When you aren’t being your normal arrogant self.”

“Hey!”

She chuckled at the insulted look on his face. They both broke down into giggles, their laughter was a little too high pitched to be merely mirth. It was slightly hysterical

“Well, if you want that research, we will have to go to the Manor.”

“Yeah I figured but I was really hoping to avoid it.”

“I’m sorry… I don’t want to go either. I haven’t been there since my father was ordered to murder mother and me.” He looked down at their entwined hands and smoothed his thumb over her softer, smaller one. She sighed as he refused to meet her eyes. They both had scars.

"Benny," Malfoy summoned his personal elf and bid him pack them up and send everything to the Manor before joining them. "We will travel by floo and will stay there until we have thoroughly searched everywhere. Also, leave the breakfast on the table. We will eat now."

“Yes, Master.” He bowed before popping out.

“After you.” He murmured before standing and offering Hermione his hand. She looked at him curiously before taking it, allowing herself to be pulled up off the floor.

**HG**

Hermione was visibly trembling as she entered Malfoy Manor. It was surreal as if it wasn't actually happening. Draco was holding her, supporting her, as they walked slowly together through the place that held one of the most traumatizing things about the war for her and even more for Draco. His once safe-haven was defiled, filled with memories of him.

“What do you want to see first?” He asked her, not knowing whether she needed the rest or the busy work.

“The library.” She choked out. Where else would she go to feel safe?

He nodded his head and together they wound through the many corridors and hallways that made up the labyrinthine path to the familial library. The pilgrimage seemed to take hours but in reality, it only took a few minutes. Forever, after all, could sometimes be just one moment. *

As they approached, Draco, unwound his arms from around her body and stood before a set of huge double doors. With a small smile, he looked back at her over his shoulder, each hand on a curving handle.

“Close your eyes. No peeking!” He murmured, waiting until she complied before pushing the doors open in one sweeping movement. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through to stand in the center of the room. “Open your eyes.”

Draco watched Hermione as her eyes went wide, awe forcing her jaw to land on the floor. Slowly she moved towards the shelves, running her fingers lightly over the exposed spines. She was radiant as she took in her surroundings, breathing deeply the smell of her personal ambrosia. Parchment in various stages of decay, ink, and leather were only some of the scents she knew she would smell in a batch of Armortentia. Her heart thudded rapidly, yearning and nostalgia seeping out of her every pore, memories of better times thrusting the images of her two best friends into the forefront of her mind. She nearly choked on it. Savagely, she pushed it away and focused only on Malfoy and his amazing library.

Hermione twirled on the balls of her feet quicker than he would have ever bet that she could move, and Draco’s brows rose in question and surprise. She launched herself into his arms, wrapping them around his neck and pressing an innocent kiss to his clean-shaven jaw. He smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“See what you have been missing your whole life?” He joked both indicating the library and himself.

"This is amazing, Draco!" She breathed, ignoring his poor attempt at humor or flirting or whatever that was.

She was out of his arms as quick as she flung herself into them, leaving Draco dazed. She was like niffler who had caught sight of several pieces of treasure at once. Waving her wand, she summoned the books that she wanted to start with. Draco watched her for a moment longer before doing the same. They studied, side by side long into the night. Draco easily kept up with Hermione’s intense study habits. Lucky for them, the house elves returned to the Manor to serve their new and kinder master. The food and drinks were replenished at regular intervals and both Hermione and Draco helped themselves, always with a grateful murmur to the listening elves.

**HG**

After two weeks of searching, they had to admit, that they had already seen everything that the library had to offer on the subject of time travel. Hermione grit her teeth as she decided to finally look through Voldemort’s personal possessions, something that she had been putting off ever since Draco showed her the door to the room that Voldemort had used when they first arrived.

She stood in front of the door with a wrinkled nose, wishing that Draco would do this part but he had unequivocally refused. He said that if she wanted to look around, she would have to do it soon or he would torch the whole wing. There were too many bad memories concerning the evil bastard. Hermione had fewer personal memories of him and was therefore elected by Draco and the house elves to go through it. She was out-voted.

She slowly opened the door expecting any manner of unpleasant things to hit her but opened her eyes, one by one, as nothing happened. Her mouth dropped to the floor as she saw rare instruments, a first edition library of rare books, diagrams of complicated wand movements for creating spells, journals of all kinds, and surprisingly an old battered trunk with Slytherin’s crest as a latch.

She slowly circled the room casting spells to reveal and dismantle deadly curses and enchantments that were woven into the objects he wished to protect. There was no doubt in Hermione’s mind. Tom Riddle was truly brilliant, a gifted and powerful wizard. Too bad he was evil.

She searched the books first and was rewarded with several tomes full of in-depth theory about time travel. In fact, she found several journals that turned out to be step by step manuals on how to build and create time turners. If he had all of this at his fingertips, why wouldn't he employ their use? It's not like he would care about the consequences of traveling back in time.

It took her days more to scour the new resources before she stumbled upon the flaw in the theories. Apparently, there was a good reason why time turners could only go back twenty-four hours’ tops. Time turners were only meant to relive moments without interacting with a person's past self. It causes a paradox, the time wizards called it time madness. It was a side effect of cerebral dislocation in time. A time turners' magic was what created the disease, not the time displacement. To go further back than that, caused wizards to revert mentally to the age they were at the point in time they traveled to. Any wizards that tried to travel beyond their conceptions died at the point of arrival, both present and future selves.

Hermione was sure she could improve the time turners to a point where this side effect would be non-existent, but only if she had several hundred years and a way to not die in the process of experimentation. She frowned. She clearly would not be able to use this method.

With this in mind, Hermione began searching through Voldemort’s private journals, positive that he had reached the same conclusion as she did. It surprised her that his personal thoughts drew her in like an obsession, forcing her to regret his life’s choices and fully wish that she could have apprenticed under him.

It was this single-minded focus that allowed her to find exactly what she was looking for. It was in one of the journals from the time where he and his Knights of Walpurgis traveled the world.

September 6th, 1947

We unintentionally stumbled into a village that treated us as if we carried the plague. They were clearly a primitive group of wizards living in the wilds of Africa. We had recently come down from an exquisite high as the last village we were in taught us how to fly. This village wasn’t even on our radar or anyone’s for that matter. They clearly don’t want visitors. I have to know what they are hiding. A small group of elderly wizards brought us food. They wouldn’t even allow us to wander around the huts. Their eyes followed us nervously. I am getting excited at the prospect of this challenge. There couldn’t have been a better way to capture my attention than to try to keep me in the dark. I will have to have Abraxas create a distraction so that I can look around.

September 7th

The tribal elders have asked us to leave. Every attempt at subterfuge has come to naught. I don’t know whether these wizards are just that good or my knights are incompetent. Their warriors surround our hut as we speak. I flattered and cajoled and yet they refuse to budge. They fear us more now than yesterday. It excites me.

September 8th

They watch me the most and they stopped feeding us. They want us to leave but we are good at what we do. They won't be able to outduel us. We dipped into the supplies that we always carry with us, enabling us to continue to eat like kings. I am determined to find out what they are keeping from us. The more they try to hide, the more I am intrigued. I burn with anticipation of discovery. Whatever they are hiding, I need to acquire it.

September 9th

I finally was able to search the village. What a disappointment. There is only one enclosure in the whole place that exudes magic. Whatever they are hiding must be in that hut. I hope to find out tomorrow.

September 10th

She goes by the name Smurg. She is an old woman with white hair and milky eyes that hosts a dormant magical parasite. In the crudest way, she is a seer but her most incredible function is even more fantastic. The parasite that had taken the woman, chooses a host from among the girls born the year its last host dies. It is an honor to be chosen, the girl is treated like a goddess. She is revered and for good reason. I walked into the hut alone and it was just the two of us as she stared at me with her blind eyes.

“You shouldn’t have come.” She said.

“I need to know, why are you so well protected?”

“They don’t want me to be hunted. I am the last of my kind.”

“What can you do that makes you so venerated?” My stomach clenched in anticipation.

“I can do many things but I am jealously guarded because nobody leaves my presence without either a seed or a date.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I deem them worthy, I will give them a seed to sow in the world. It will help them in whatever endeavor that they chose. If they are not worthy, I give them the date of their death.”

“What will you give me?”

“Two things. This advice; Remorse could save your life someday.”

“And the other?”

“You will die on June 14th, 2000.”

“I am not worthy in your eyes?”

“I have high standards.”

“I am the standard in which all others are measured.”

“For the world’s sake, let’s hope not.”

It was clear that she was done talking to me. I was pronounced unworthy and dismissed. I couldn’t see why they hid her. There is nothing of import here. Let them rot away in their tiny backwater village. Maybe I will come back when I take over the magical world. I wouldn’t be unworthy then.

It took Hermione a while to absorb the entry and her mind whirled with the possibilities. Would it hurt anything to try? No, nothing could stop her at this point. She grabbed all of the maps and journals and lugged them to the dining room where Draco was eating lunch. She plopped them onto the table with a loud smack.

“What’s this?” He asked, not pausing from eating his lunch.

“I have something but it may be a long shot. Also, I will have to travel to Africa.”

“Okay. When do we leave?” He didn’t even look up at her.

“As soon as we are packed.”

“Benny!”

“Yes, Master?”

“Pack Hermione and I for an extended travel in Africa. I want to leave tonight.”

“Yes, Master.”

“You’re not even going to ask me what I found?” Hermione asked him curiously as she sat in the chair next to him at the table. She pushed the journal and documents across the table, clearing a small space in which to eat. Winky popped in and set a plate in front of her and draped Hermione’s napkin across her lap, before popping out again.

“You can fill me in while you eat. You are hungry, aren’t you?” He smirked. Raising his glass of water to his lips, he took a sip before turning his attention to her findings.

*Alice: How long is forever?

White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second

- Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

#harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #romance #first look #gellert grindelwald #time travel #chapter 1

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