Tumgik
#and it's ron hermione and ginny who go confront harry. it is STUPID.
Text
2022.06.10
Complete fics posted on AO3 this day
1. Anamnesis (Come Back to Me) by Stormysaslytherin [M, 82k]
►They had been together for almost six years, bonded by an old magic for almost two and half. [...] Draco always knew that this was a promise [Harry] couldn't keep forever and it was only a matter of time before Harry didn't come back from a field mission. Neither knew the consequences of that morning's decision until it was too late.
2. The Appalling Strangeness of Mercy by Sambalam [?, 4k]
►Malfoy drops in on Harry's semi-reluctant return to Hogwarts, and Hermione somehow makes it Harry's problem, which means he's forced (forced, I tell you!) to confront both his emotions and the idea of Malfoy in no pants. The two topics are unrelated.
3. green light by sobster [T, 8k]
►Drinks for everyone! The game is True Wizard, and if you're caught not paying attention, Pansy Parkinson is going to have your head. Well, not really, but Harry thinks his situation might be much, much worse.
4. Love + Home by @buttered-baguette [T, 3k]
►Harry and Draco are down to the final months of their degree. They are both rushing to put together their portfolio / an exhibit room to showcase their art. They set their own themes, but Draco seems to be having troubles finishing his. Can his good friend Harry help him figure it out?
---
Fest/Exchange
1. Havin' a Good Time by Anonymous [T, 4k]
►Here's the plan: take car, go to Mum's, deal with Lucius (Sorry Lucius), grab Ron and Hermione, go to the Three Broomsticks, have a butterbeer, and... ★ Lights Camera Drarry 2022 | @lcdrarry
2. Hot-Blooded by @violenttulips [E, 34k]
►In which Draco Malfoy is a vampire, and Harry Potter is a werewolf, and their enemies-to-friends with benefits-to-? relationship has evolved into something messier. And who are these people killing creatures in the streets? Someone should probably do something about that... It's going to be Potter. It's always Potter, isn't it? Stupid git. Draco hates him. ★ HD Fangfest 2022 | @hd-fangfest
3. rumour has it by Anonymous [E, 8k]
►Slytherin King Draco Malfoy overhears the wrong conversation, and discovers court wizard Harry Potter is to be engaged to Ginny Weasley. That's fine, he's not devastated or anything—he would survive this. He has always known after all, that he must love the prat in secret. ★ Lights Camera Drarry 2022 | @lcdrarry
33 notes · View notes
nobutfredweasleytho · 3 years
Text
YOU JUST DON’T LISTEN(F.W)
Tumblr media
Summary: Fred’s ex girlfriend writes him a letter to explain the how him using her wrecked her emotionally.
Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, depressed Y/N, mentions of self doubt, a little swearing, mentions of parents not loving correctly, used reader. Let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: Major thank you to Gabriella @onlyfreds for being an amazing person and encouraging me to write whatever this mess is. I am forever grateful to you
(The font is terrible Im sorry im just getting used to working on tumblr)
Fred Weasley checked the muggle clock on his nightstand. 10:30 AM. His mom will call him for breakfast anytime now. He has been awake for quite some time if he can even count the 30 minutes he tried to sleep but couldn’t, not when every time he tries to close his eyes his mind and eventually dreams are clouded by her. By the last time he looked at her, how devastated she looked, How her face was wet from her tears and her eyes bloodshot red, but the thing Fred will never be able to forget is her voice. How raw and vulnerable she sounded while saying the most horrible thing’s anyone has ever said to him, but he can’t blame her, he has no one to blame but himself because in the end it was he who caused all of this and now its come to bite him in the ass. He hears the door open and his twin brother George enters.
“Mom says breakfast is ready and she wants you downstairs. She says she’ll drag you herself if you don’t show up again today.”
“Tell her I’m not hungry and I’ll come grab a bite later.” I really don’t feel like being surrounded by other people right now. Not in this pathetic state I’m in. Besides it will take me willpower I don’t have to not hex Ron into oblivion.
“Well she will not take no for an answer and I wont either. What’s done is done now and you’ll have to face the world someday so start with your own family because everyone down there is worried sick about you and the least you can do is show your face once in a while so they know you haven’t died of starvation or sleep deprivation.” George has worry written all over him and I’m sure the rest of the family has it too. I feel even more like shit for worrying them.
“Fine. But I come back here if she is mentioned are we clear?”
“We weren’t gonna mention Y/N anyway now lets go moms worried sick for your dumbass.”
Breakfast was going smoothly with Ginny and Ron being exited for Quidditch season, Harry and Bill discussing the unfortunate events of the Triwizard tournament last year, dad asking Hermione about a rubber duck whatever that is, but the most shocking thing is mom asking me and George about the joke shop products. George is doing most of the talking but still the fact that shes even asking is awesome. I was finally feeling peaceful this whole winter break until I heard a hoot outside the window.
“I thought it was Tuesday but since mail is here does it mean its Friday already? Oh how fast time is going.
“No Arthur honey you are right it is Tuesday, Bill or George can one of you see if that owl has the owners name attached to it and bring whatever letter he has here to see who is it for.”
Bill got up from his seat and went to the window next to the countertop to look at the mystery owl. “Do we even know a Y/N Y/L/N?”
The room went quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the owls hoot asking for its treat. Bill seemed not to realise this as he took the letter from the owl, gave him a treat and sent it on its way.
“To Fred Weasley from Y/N Y/L/N… Who’s Y/N is she the girl you’ve been crying over this whole time huh Freddie?” Bill chuckled but I just grabbed the letter. I had no time to even be mad at him because once again my mind fogs up with only her. I couldn’t help but feel relieved and the happiest I felt in a long time. She has forgiven me. Y/N forgave me. That has to be it. Why else would she send me a letter?
“I had a great time with you guys but there’s important matters for me to attend so I have to go to now. Thanks mom the breakfast was amazing as always.” And with that I sprinted towards my room, locked the door and examined the letter in my hands. It was a bunch of them in here. I went to mine and George’s worktable threw some papers that were on top of it to make room for these letters and carefully opened the envelope.
The first thing that I grabbed was a photo. It was a polaroid of me and Y/N on the Gryffindor common room. Happiness filled my heart when I started remembering this night. I looked at the back of the polaroid and surely enough there was a writing on it.
Fred and Yn on the Gryffindor common room at 1 AM the night she turned 17. Listening to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”. Picture taken by major 3rd wheel George Weasley.
Tears filled my eyes when I remember this night. It was the night I looked at her the way I always should have. Not as a replacement of someone who didn’t care about me.
The next one was also a polaroid photograph but this one I don’t remember being taken. It’s a picture of Y/N teaching me how to play the guitar. I can make up that we are in her dorm but not more as the picture is taken in black and white. I look at the back and surely this one also has a writing on it but the handwriting doesn’t look familiar at all.
A drunken Y/N accompanied by a even drunker Fred trying to play the guitar in the middle of the night. If I fail my charms exam tomorrow I’m killing you both but right now you two look adorable. Picture taken by Cho Chang.
The third one is an actual letter. I chuckle looking at the handwriting. Always so precise and not even one line out of place. I always thought Y/Ns handwriting always contradicts her hot headed persona but it’s actually really cute. I start reading the letter and my heart stops.
Dear Freddie,
I can only imagine the shock that receiving a letter from me would cause you right now especially after our last conversation.
But I have a lot to get off of my chest and I wont be able to move on if I haven’t said it all. Call me a coward but I was really scared to ask you to meet me so I can say it in person, but maybe that’s what I have always been. A coward. A coward because I get scared when someone wants to enter my life, a coward because I hate trying new things at the expense of failing, a coward because I should be able to confront people who brought darkness and sadness to my life.
But one thing I will admit Fred Weasley is that I wasn’t a coward when It came to loving you. It was the first time that I let someone come into my life and heart the way you did, and it will probably be the last. Throughout our “relationship” if you can even call it that as it was more of you customizing me to be her, to be someone I’m not. But that’s why you even talked to me is it, because I reminded you of her.
The signs were right in front of me and I feel stupid enough not to have seen them. But I guess people are right when they say love is blind. Love is such a funny thing to me as the first time I experienced the right kind of love was through you. But that was me creating stuff in my head. You didn’t love me no, you loved the idea of me. But I loved you. I loved you more than anything or anyone I have ever loved, I loved everything about you. But you just don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone around you. Not George, not your other siblings, not Lee or any of your other friends for that matter, not your professors, but most importantly you don’t listen to me.
You didn’t listen when I told you that the love my parents gave me was only because I reminded them of my brother, the love my old friends back home gave me was one of interest. Everywhere I go no matter who I talk to no one will love me for me. I came to accept that until I met you.
You were funny and crazy and brave and oh so gorgeous. You were basically everything I looked for in… well everything. In a friend or in a partner it doesn’t matter. I thought you saw me for who I am. A broken teenager with issues but that at the end of the day was deserving of love. Oh how wrong I have been but no more wrong than you. You knew this but you just didn’t listen.
That makes us both horrible people now does it. Me who thought you were some kind of savior or some kind of saint and selfishly wrapped myself around your love and you who used me because I remind you of your ex girlfriend who broke your heart. But mine is excused I feel like and yours isn’t.
You would have kept me going for who knows how long just so you can live your imaginations you had for someone else.
Did you think about her the first time we slept together?
Was I not enough for you Freddie?
Was I too clingy too soon?
Is it my hot temper that gets the best of me?
So many questions will be left unanswered on my end because frankly, I never want to speak of you again. Sure I am deprived of love but I will not take it if its not directed directly at me.
I still care about you and will continue to support you and George on whatever you set your mind into. I was waking through Diagon Alley last week and saw this little store with a “for sale” sign. It’s right in the middle of Diagon Alley. I hate how my first thought went that you would have loved it but I seem to do that a lot recently.
I’ll get dressed and think would Fred love this skirt or this shirt.
I start applying lipstick and I’ll think will Fred love this color.
I start eating and I’ll think does this look good enough that Fred would’ve stolen a piece of it when I’m talking to Ginny.
I don’t even know why I am telling you this. How pathetic I’ve become clinging into someone that doesn’t want me.
Anyway I’ve probably bored you enough with my ranting but I wouldn’t have been able to move on unless I said everything that felt heavy on my heart. I also attached some photos I thought you’d like to keep seeing as now you can see yourself with Kayla without having the burden to be near me.
Say hi to your siblings and Harry for me.
Have a nice life,
Y/N
183 notes · View notes
romioneficfest · 3 years
Text
Just a Snog
Title: Just a Snog
Prompt/Day: 7 - Anything Goes
Tumblr Name: 
Rating: T
Brief Summary: 6th Year AU - Ron confronts Hermione immediately following his row with Ginny.
Triggers: language
***********
"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"
 And with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.
 "C'mon," said Harry, as the sound of Filch's shuffling feet reached their ears.
Ron tore off ahead of Harry, blinded by rage. He could faintly hear Harry calling after him but couldn’t be bothered to look back. How dare Ginny call him out like that? He was already in a shit mood from practice, and the last thing he wanted was to see his sister snogging his dorm-mate behind a bloody tapestry.
All he’d wanted was to go back up to Gryffindor tower, take a hot shower and go to bed. Sod his homework, he’d do it later. But now, he was too riled up to even think about settling down. Images of fucking Viktor Krum with his hands all over Hermione poured into his mind, and no matter how many times he tried to scrub the image away, it just came back ten times worse.
“Ron, wait up!” Harry panted behind him.
Ron stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of his voice as a blatant realization occurred. Harry hadn’t acted surprised when Ginny shared that bit of knowledge. Why wasn’t Harry surprised? He spun on his heel to face Harry, who’d stopped short of crashing into him.
“You knew.” Ron’s voice was low and murderous. A jealous rage simmered underneath his skin.
“Mate, you’ve got to calm down! You know as well as anyone how Ginny just says stuff when she’s angry,” Harry offered a weak explanation.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Ron wasn’t about to be deterred.
“About Cho? Well, yeah, I was there…”
“ABOUT HERMIONE, YOU TOSSER!” Ron roared.
“I—I heard them talking about it one night, but Hermione never said anything to me. I kind of suspected—”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“It wasn’t my information to tell! Why does it matter?”
Those were the absolute wrong words to say, and Harry knew it, judging by the look on his face. Ron stormed off again, taking out his anger on a small first year in the corridor as he stalked past, but that wasn’t enough to even remotely subdue the beast within. He needed to find Hermione. Enraged as he was, he needed to hear that she’d snogged Krum from her own mouth.
He felt completely sucker-punched by the whole thing, like she’d betrayed everything about their friendship. Not that he had any claim to her or anything. That wasn’t what he meant, but still, some part of him thought that maybe—
It doesn’t matter now, does it?
As he approached the Fat Lady, Ron growled the password at her, only to receive a snide remark about politeness and a rude stare in return. He bit back the urge to tell her off for fear she wouldn’t permit his entry. Ron barely waited for the portrait to open completely before tumbling in. His eyes peered around the common room, but it didn’t take long to see Hermione working at one of the small tables in the corner.
“Ron, don’t do anything stupid,” Harry managed to mutter behind him.
Unable to make any guarantees, Ron left Harry in his wake as he marched over to Hermione. When she noticed him, her face lit up, and a wide smile graced her lips. It was enough to lessen his anger by a tick, even though his resolve didn’t break.
“Did you snog Krum?” he blurted out.
Hermione’s warm smile immediately turned to a frown. “What?”
“Just answer the question, Hermione. Did you snog Krum?”
He noticed how she looked down and began fidgeting with her quill as her teeth rolled over her bottom lip.
“I—I wouldn’t call it a snog exactly,” she said slowly, unable to meet his eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron snapped, the anger returning to its original state as she spoke in bloody riddles.
That got her attention as she met his gaze.
“Why do you care?” she asked, her tone defensive.
“Why do I care? Because I thought we were best friends! Best friends don’t keep bloody secrets from each other! So, you snogged a sodding international quidditch star in fourth year. Now what? Are you seeing anyone else in secret?”
Ron was sure his whole face was burning crimson at his ridiculous accusations, but he didn’t care. He noticed Hermione’s nostrils flare as she stood quickly, knocking the chair over in her haste. It was comical, really, and Ron had to bite back a laugh as she attempted to size up to him.
“How dare you! What goes on in my personal life is none of your business! Last I checked, I didn’t need to disclose a few chaste kisses with my Yule Ball date to you! And even if it was a snog, I wouldn’t have told you anyway!”
Ron opened his mouth to speak but paused as her words hit him like a freight train. A few chaste kisses. So...not a snog? Why would Ginny lie? Harry’s words popped into his head next: You know how she gets when she’s angry.
This didn’t completely diminish the anger coursing through his veins. He still felt betrayed by Hermione, but the anger now mixed with a soft flutter in his chest knowing she hadn’t snogged Krum. Or anyone else, he hoped. But Ron couldn’t let her see that his anger had subsided so quickly. Not when they were just getting in the thick of it. He still had a point to prove.
“Well, then I guess we aren’t as close as I thought! Since you could tell Ginny and Harry, but not me!” Ron knew it was a low blow, especially because Harry had admitted she hadn’t told him, but he couldn’t help it.
Hermione let out a disgruntled sigh as Ron watched her begin to pack up her things and throw them in her bag. Was it just him, or were her eyes becoming redder? After she closed the flap on her bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder, she shot Ron a scathing look.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed to give you a play-by-play of every moment in my life! Let me make it up to you right now. I was having a perfectly enjoyable evening, but now it’s been ruined by a red-headed prat, so I’m heading up to bed. Is that alright with you?”
No, it’s not bloody alright with me! Ron shouted internally.
There was still one more question weighing on the back of his mind that he was desperate for her to answer. She was halfway across the common room before Ron found his voice.
“So, since your type seems to be famous quidditch stars, why invite me to Slughorn’s party? Out of pity?” Ron scoffed.
Ron walked closer to the boy’s staircase as he spoke, not wanting to be left alone in front of the rest of the common room like he’d lost the argument. He couldn’t help shooting one more dig at Krum and hoped he hadn’t taken it too far as he caught Hermione freezing with one foot on the first step of the girl’s staircase. A thrill shot through him as he thought he’d done it now.
Hermione made an abrupt turn and doubled back towards him, her face scarlet. Her voice was low and barely discernible as she tried her best to get in his face, despite being several inches shorter than him.
“If you must know, it was never a pity invite, nor was it meant to be as friends. I was asking you to be my date, but apparently you’re too thick to—”
Ron had no idea what came over him. Maybe it was her proximity as she was lifted up on tiptoe to match his stature or the brief wisps of the perfume he’d given her last Christmas that invaded his nostrils at the slightest of movements, but when the word date crossed her lips, he lost all self-control. He pulled her into him as his lips crashed onto hers in a possessive manner.
He had no idea what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him. Her stiff demeanor melted away as Hermione folded into his arms. Ron determined he must be doing something right since she hadn’t pulled away or slapped him across the face. She was kissing him back!
All too soon, he was jolted out of his reverie by a faint sound of whooping and cheering that erupted throughout the common room. As he pulled away, Ron suddenly became shy. He’d just kissed his best friend in the middle of a row in front of half of Gryffindor house.
The dazed look on Hermione’s face faded away as she said, “Should we, um, talk about this somewhere more private?”
“Er, yeah,” Ron agreed.
Talk, snog, whatever. Ron was so elated that he didn’t care. The anger had been replaced by full joy, and despite the fact that he was still angry with his sister, he chose to let that go...for now.
129 notes · View notes
redroomwidows · 3 years
Text
Maybe
SUMMARY: y/n stays at the Weasley’s the summer after the war. Ron starts acting strangely…
REQUEST: ‘Hi there! Can I get a female Ron x reader where reader is Ginny’s long time friend and comes to stay at the burrow over the summer, and Ron suddenly notices there’s something ✨ different✨ about her this year? Thank you!!’
WORD COUNT: 893
WARNINGS: Talk about death (specifically Fred’s). I think angst, there is NOT any fluff here, but it isn’t overly angst-y. Ron may be OOC, I haven’t written in a while!
I haven’t written for Ron before, so this may seem a bit OOC, but I really hope you enjoy it! And feedback is really appreciated! 
Ron Weasley x Fem! reader
Tumblr media
After the war things were...different. The Burrow felt empty and soulless, the battle had taken many lives and everyone was grieving for someone. Without Fred’s presence, there was less joking, less laughter, and less happiness in the house. Everyone felt it, every single Weasley, including  Harry, Hermione, and Ginny’s long-term friend - Y/n.
Y/n was in Ginny’s year at Hogwarts, and had also lost a family member in the war, her parents were closed off and for the summer, she was craving the homely environment of the Weasleys, and Molly was happy to have another presence in the house, she liked staying busy, it meant there was less time to look at the clock. 
The Weasley’s were slowly healing though, and so was Y/n. She arrived on a Saturday, with two bags and a smile. Mrs Weasley greeted her immediately, with a hug and a promise of a fantastic dinner. Then Ginny, who was ecstatic to see her best friend and to talk about anything and everything. Y/n didn’t really see anyone else until dinner, she was being harassed by Ginny, with questions about her love life and rambles about Quidditch.
 At dinner though, Y/n sat between Ginny and Harry - opposite Hermione. At one point, she had to give Harry advice on how to talk to Ginny again, the ‘what if she doesn’t like me anymore?’ was thrown to the window and Y/n restored his faith in the prospect of a continued relationship with the youngest Weasley.
Y/n also discussed the next year at school with Hermione who was returning, so would be in Ginny and Y/n’s year. Y/N also spoke with every other Weasley - her and George spoke about Pigmy puffs and how purple ones are obviously better than pink, her and Percy spoke about books, she explained many muggle concepts to Arthur and asked Molly about Bill and Charlie. Y/n was close with every Weasley, the older ones had watched her grow up and saw her like another sister, but Y/n had never really clicked with Ron. Maybe it was because they were so close in age, she was seen as Ginny’s annoying friend. So, it wasn’t a surprise when she didn’t speak to him but he kept staring at her, Y/n just assumed he was a bit zoned out.
Over the weeks, Ron still never really spoke to Y/n, he would greet her in the mornings and shout at her when they were on the same Quidditch team for games in the Garden, but it was just...awkward. Y/n wondered if she'd done something wrong and had asked Ginny, who had only laughed hysterically and made reference to the crush Y/n had on Ron in 3rd year. Eventually, something had to change and Y/n decided to confront Ron about his avoidance one evening, when he was in the hallway. The problem was, she’d stopped in front of Fred and George’s bedroom, so when she started her confrontation, all Ron could look at was the door, and eventually broke down crying. 
Y/n had realised what she’d done immediately and had gone on her tip toes and pulled her best friend’s brother into a hug, he cried into her shoulder for what felt like hours and Y/n just held him tighter. She dealt with the pain from her toes as she hugged the much taller boy. He kept going to apologise because ‘you’re Ginny’s best friend, and I’ve been horrible to you and I shouldn’t -’ but Y/n just shushed him, promising to speak about it tomorrow. Finally, he did calm down and Y/n took him downstairs, made him some hot chocolate, and gave him one of her secret chocolate frogs.
 “I just...you being here feels weird,” Ron finally speaks as Y/n leans on the kitchen counter “and everyone else seems so happy you’re here...but something’s different this time,”
“Maybe you’re in love with me,” Y/n jokes and laughs to herself, as Ron smiles “Look...I get it, it’s weird this year, we’ve lost people and nothing’s ever going to go back to normal, of course me being here feels weird. Just tell me if I’ve done something wrong and don’t ignore me. Okay?”
“Okay?” Ron nods
“I’m not that terrifying,” Y/n smiles
“I mean, there was that time you and Ginny dyed Percy’s hair black,” Ron laughs
“Hm, yeah, but I’m not gonna do that to you,” she winks and walks out the kitchen “go to bed before you mum comes down!”
Y/n arrived at Ginny’s room with a smile on her face and fell onto the extra bed, falling into a deep sleep, whereas Ron tossed and turned in bed all night. Why was he so uncomfortable around Y/n? Harry soon grew tired of Ron’s movement and the night was spent with an awkward conversation about feelings, Harry and Ginny and Ron and Y/n.
The next morning, when Ron watched Y/n laugh in the garden, plaiting Ginny’s hair and watching harry and Hermione argue over something stupid, he realised the girl may have been right the night before, Ginny may have been right a few days prior and Harry may have been right minutes ago. Maybe he was in love with her. 
284 notes · View notes
theweasleysredhair · 4 years
Text
Decisions, Decisions [D.M.]
Character: Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 1385
Requested?: Yes/No
Summary: Draco has a choice to make - you or his parents. You have a choice to make - Draco or your friends.
Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: Angsty angsty angst angst. Hope the requester enjoys!
~*~
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3
Tumblr media
+ + + + +
You rounded the corner in the midst of your hunt for your boyfriend, wand up at the ready and heart beating fast as you hoped beyond hope that you wouldn’t come across any death eaters or, worse, Draco’s dead body, just as a familiar black haired boy and his ginger best friend sprinted past you. They were barely able to spare you a glance before the boy following them ran straight into your chest.
“Draco! There you are!”
“He’s gone,” the blonde boy replied, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Who’s gone?” You received no reply as you pulled away from him, “Draco, who’s gone?”
“Crabbe. He’s gone. Idiot made fiendfyre... accidentally killed him.”
Your mouth dropped slightly as you pulled him back to you, him nuzzling into your neck as you stroked his back, “Oh Draco... I know you were close to him.”
“I don’t- I didn’t want this. I never wanted this. If-If I’d have known...” he stuttered out, his fist clenching around the hem of your jumper. You shushed him gently, trying to reassure him, “I know, I know... You’ve still got a chance though. Fight for Harry! Fight for Hogwarts - for me.”
He looked up at you through his blurry eyes, his eyelashes sticking together from the tears. “My parents...” he started before you cut him off.
“You need to make a decision... and soon.”
Before he could reply, thunder rumbled out through the hall, as if a storm was passing. Draco reached out and clasped your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly for both you and his sake.
“You have fought valiantly... but in vain,” you heard a voice announce. You shuddered and knew in that instant that you were hearing Voldemort’s voice. Draco gripped your hand harder as the voice continued on, “I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.”
You looked at Draco and you both let out a shaky breath.
“Harry Potter, I speak now directly to you. On this night you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. Should you do so I give my word that no other life will be lost on this night. You have one hour. If, at the end of that time, you have not given yourself up, then I shall punish every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.”
The hallway shook once again before you’re left with silence.
“Come on... let’s um... let’s go see how everyone is,” you grabbed his hand in yours and began slowly making your way towards the Great Hall, bracing yourself in case you were about to find out you’d lost some of your friends in the battle.
***
You made your way out into the courtyard later that night, swallowing at the sight of blood-stained rocks, the floor strewn with broken wands. Draco followed just behind you, his hand clasped in yours. Carefully, you both made your way around the crowd before you stopped in horror as you saw just how large the group of death eaters were in front of you.
Hagrid, in ropes, stood close to the death eaters and holding a familiar body, suddenly lurched forward as the death eaters holding the ropes yanked him forward.
You glanced over to Voldemort himself, stood towering over everyone, his eyes wide and mouth spread into a thin, sinister smile, then down to the giant snake by his side.
“Who’s that Hagrid’s carrying?” You heard Ginny say from the left of you. Neville, who was stood just in front of her, paused, not saying a word. “Neville, who is that?” She asked again.
Just as Neville opened his mouth to reply, more people began spilling out of the castle. Luna and Seamus... then Cho... Arthur and Ron Weasley... then Hermione.
Hermione drew a sharp breath as she saw the body in Hagrid’s arms and you knew immediately - it was Harry Potter.
“No... NO!” Ginny cried out before trying to rush towards Voldemort. She had taken barely a couple of steps before Arthur grabbed her, holding onto her to ensure her safety.
“Silence!” Voldemort yelled out over the crowd, “Stupid girl... you cry for that?” He gestured to Harry’s limp body still lying in Hagrid’s arms.
He turned back to the crowd, “Tell me. These last few hours - as you collected the dead and tended your wounded - was he by your side?“
At the resounding silence, Voldemort nodded as if he had received an answer, “While your hands ran dark with the blood of mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, brothers and sisters, his were clasped in prayer - but it was a prayer for one and one only. While you battled courageously, until you could no longer will yourself to stand, he had long since fallen to his knees. While you cursed me until your voices grew ragged, he begged me for mercy in a voice as meek as a child’s. So do not cry for that. He’s not worthy of your tears. And do not despair of his betrayal. You were never in his heart. Not for one single solitary beat.”
“Liar!” Ron roared, before being forced to his knees painfully by a flick of Voldemort’s wand.
Voldemort gestured to him, “Did you not hear me?! Harry Potter is dead! From this day forward, you put your faith in me or suffer the consequences. HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!” Nagini hissed as Voldemort, raked his eyes over the students and staff, “Now is the time to declare yourself.”
The crowd began murmuring nervously and with a jolt of your heart, you felt Draco drop your hand. You turned your head to look at him but he was staring straight ahead, at the couple stood towards the front of the death eaters. His parents.
Lucius stepped forward slightly, his eyes trained on his son. “Draco!” The blonde man summoned him with a short nod. You watched Draco swallow harshly as his gaze flickered to you then back at his father. Lucius smiled thinly, “Draco, don’t be stupid.”
Draco stood in place, fear and turmoil set on his face. “You don’t have to go, Draco. Stay, stay with me,” you whispered to him. You almost felt the tips of his fingers brush against your own when his mother’s voice carried across the courtyard, “Come, Draco.”
Draco looked into her eyes, then ducked his head and stepped forward hesitantly. “No, Draco!” You called out, going to follow him just as you felt Ron and Neville grip an arm each to pull you back.
Draco faltered briefly, his mouth opening and shutting, looking like he was about to cry as he watched you struggle to get out of Ron and Neville’s grasps. Then he whispered, “Come with me.”
Your breath hitched in your throat and you stopped fighting to get to him. You looked around at your friends, at Hermione, at Ron. At Neville’s scared face. Over to Harry, lying dead in Hagrid’s arms. To Ginny, to George. To Molly, to Arthur. To Luna, to Seamus, to Dean. To every student you’d be fighting side by side with against the death eaters that stood in formation ahead of you. Then to Draco.
His face was contorted with the emotional pain of having to choose a side, his jaw clenched tightly. You pressed your lips together in a thin line. Then, with tears streaming down your face, you shook your head, “I can’t. I won’t.”
You took and step back, gripping both Ron’s and Neville’s hands in your own.
Draco looked at you helplessly, before glancing over at his parents. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something before it closed again as he gulped shakily.
“I’m sorry,” you thought you heard him whisper, before he turned away.
You shook your head, tears blurring your vision as you blinking harshly to try and push them away.
And with that, you watched as the boy you’d loved for nearly seven years walked away from you without so much as a second glance.
394 notes · View notes
ballerinaroy · 3 years
Note
A few weeks ago I saw a post about Ron becoming the youngest Head Strategist ever in the Auror Department. I expect him to be a bit secretive about his promotion as Harry still works in the field and Ron doesn’t want to outshine his best mate. Can you write the heart-to-heart conversation the two of them have when Harry finds out? With canon pairings please.
It had started small. One Thursday evening, the night when Ginny had practice and Hermione worked late and they always went to the same pub and ordered burgers that dripped with grease and drank half their body weight in beer. Years now into this practice and Ron, too casually, had said, “Can I get a rain check? I’ve got a few things I’ve got to finish up here.”
Harry had felt betrayed, had shown it on his face for Ron looked guilty. “Sorry mate, I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
And he had, of course. With tickets to see the Cannons play and their usual feast. Harry had never had any reason to suspect Ron. He knew him better than he knew anyone, Ginny aside, just as Ron knew him. But that hadn’t been the only change.
One Wednesday he arrived with his hair cut and styled. Harry had done a double-take. Years now spent with Ron on the receiving end of teasing comments about the state of his hair and now it was gone, up past his shoulders and neat.
“Er,” Harry said, “Everything alright?”
“What?” Ron asked. Harry raised his eyebrows meaningfully and Ron ran a hand up to his scalp. “Oh, yeah, Hermione finally won out, didn’t she?”
“How?” Harry asked, not seeing the connection.
“She’s got this press conference next week and, anyway-“
He was accustom to knowing the end of Ron’s sentences, but this one left him at a loss. As Ron turned back to his work he suddenly looked like a stranger. His robes weren’t wrinkled, fit his shoulders better too, and later that day Harry noticed that his boots had been replaced with sensible black leather shoes, his socks matching. Who was he?
It took weeks for Harry to work up the nerve to confront him. All along the way more and more things seemed out of place. He worked later than him almost every night, came earlier too. No longer laughed the loudest at raunchy jokes nor could be found wasting hours in the break room to avoid doing work.
Ron was hiding something from him and Harry’s mind couldn’t help but go to the worst. Leaving the job, the country, him. Cheating.
“Hey,” Harry said, noticing that Ron had adopted the habit of hiding what he was working on whoever he walked in.
“Oh, Harry. Listen, I’m afraid I can’t come out tonight, but we’re still on for Sunday with the girls, yeah?”
“Oh,” Harry said, struggling to regain his confidence. He’d hoped that an evening filled with booze might loosen his tongue.
“Sorry,” Ron said, turning away without even asking Harry how he was.
“What’s going on with you?” Harry asked.
“Sorry?” and it was that innocent look, betrayed by the glint of I know something you don’t in his eyes that set Harry over the edge.
“I barely even recognize you anymore,” Harry said. “I know it’s something so, what is it? Are you leaving?”
“What?” Ron asked him.
It wasn’t a wild accusation. At least once a month Hermione was offered a position by another government or even their own. And if she left-
“Are you?”
“No, Harry what on earth would make you think that?” Ron said, looking concerned. He hadn’t hit it yet, struck the nerve to make him confess.
“Then what is it?” Harry asked
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ron said shakily, his eyes glancing around.
“It’s something,” Harry insisted, his mind going back to that dark place. His voice lowered and he leaned in. “Are you seeing someone?”
“What?” Ron bellowed, finally rising to Harry’s level. “How dare you-!”
“Well, what am I supposed to think?” Harry asked, his voice rising. “You cut your hair, you’re always busy and-“
“Not here,” Ron said suddenly, looking around. Quickly Harry glanced too and was alarmed to find eyes staring at them. “Come on, let’s have a drink.”
Without waiting to see if he would follow, Ron grabbed his cloak and stalked down the cubicles, but Harry knew where to find him.
They arrived at their usual Thursday night pub sans cloaks and took their usual booth. Harry had never been here in the daytime, it was quieter than he’d been expecting. They didn’t say anything, waiting for their drinks to be served and the bartender to stalk off, for muffliato to be cast so no one might overhear them.
“What’s going on?” Harry demanded once more.
“It’s not what you think,” Ron said again, not looking at him. “I don’t know how you can think that of me.”
Shame coursed through Harry and he too chose to stare down at the scratches in the wooden table. Every now and then letters formed surrounded by hearts. “I don’t, really, I got heated.”
“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “Really got to get that under control, one of these days you’ll do something you can’t take back.”
Perhaps he just had. Harry felt his face flush with embarrassment.
“I uh, I’ve been offered a promotion,” Ron said.
“What?” Harry asked, looking up at last.
“That’s why I’ve been, dressing smart and working late,” Ron explained. “It’s only just been made official, but I thought it’d help if I looked the part. It did help that I looked the part.”
“But that’s brilliant,” Harry said at once, his own insecurities forgotten. “In the department?”
“Yeah, strategy, Gerold is going to be retiring at the end of next month and I was asked to interview.”
“Why didn’t you say?”
“I didn’t think I’d get it to be honest,” Ron said, “I had the least experience of anyone, youngest. In fact, I’m going to be the youngest Head Strategist in the history of the department.”
“Of course you are,” Harry said encouragingly. “There’s no one else, cheers!”
They clinked together they mugs and Ron, for the first time, looked pleased with himself, lighter too. As though a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It still didn’t explain why Harry hadn’t been kept in the loop.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ron’s mouth worked and he sighed. “Being an Auror has always been your thing, I sort of tagged along because I thought it’d be fun. But I know how much it means to you, following your dream, and I didn’t want to overshadow you.”
Touched, Harry felt a smile tease his cheeks. “That’s mad.” He replied and Ron looked at him in question. “I defeated Voldemort, twice at that, you couldn’t overshadow me if you tried.”
Ron let out a barking laugh and shook his head. “Alright, alright no need to rub it in.”
And just like that, it was as though nothing had happened between them. No secret, no accusation. Just the ease of friendship which Harry had missed.
“Tell me everything,” Harry insisted. “And how’d they convince Gerold to retire anyway?”
“I beat him at chess,” Ron said seriously and it was Harry’s turn to laugh. “At that Christmas dinner last year, remember? He came in that next Tuesday, and from the look in his eye, I thought I was done for. Let met stew for a whole week.”
Vaguely Harry recalled Gerold, who wasn’t known for socializing, stalking the halls at random. He felt a bit stupid for not having connected the two events.
“Then, well, he called me into his office one afternoon, challenged me to a rematch. And told me if I didn’t play to win he have me fired me on the spot.”
“You won?” Harry asked.
“Just by the skin of my neck,” Ron said, getting into it. “After the loss, he shook my hand, told me to do something about my hair and clothes, and walked out the door. I followed him of course and he walked into Gawain’s office and put his resignation letter on his desk.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Ron said looking just as surprised. “Glad I took his advice though, when Gawain approached me he said that his reservation was that I wasn’t mature enough. But I beat out everyone else.”
“Congrats, mate,” Harry said again. “There isn’t a better choice.”
Part II. 
What do you want to read?
102 notes · View notes
edie-k · 3 years
Text
Living Legend (R/Hr, PG-13)
Title: Living Legend
Summary: Harry confronts his legacy as The Boy Who Blocked
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine; just having some not for profit fun.
So, based off discussion of this awesome piece of art shared on the Romione Discord, I wrote this fic. It started as very tongue in cheek idea and ended with some heart. 
Harry entered the crowded pub and glanced around. He’d been held up almost an hour completing paperwork at the Ministry so he expected he was the last one to arrive. It didn’t take long for him to focus on the boisterous group in the back and he made his way towards the table with a grin. 
“Hey, there he is!” said George, with a raise of his glass and assorted greetings joined in from the rest of the group. 
“Oi, thank God, you’re here Harry,” said Seamus. “These two,” he said, gesturing at Ron and Hermione, “are getting gross.” 
Hermione gave an indignant snort and Ron glared at Seamus but he was smirking. Harry laughed as he dropped into the empty seat next to Ginny and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He glanced around the table at the crew - George, Angelina, and Luna were already seated at the other end and Dean was plopping down on the other side of Ron, next to Parvati. There was still an empty seat with a half drank glass in front of it and glancing around the room, he spotted Neville at the bar. He gratefully accepted the mug his girlfriend had slid in front of him. “And what do you expect me to do about the two of them?” he asked, as he took a swig of his drink. 
“Break out some of that cockblocking magic you’re famous for,” said Seamus. The entire table burst into laughter. Harry was so shocked that he momentarily choked.  
“Honestly Seamus!” said Hermione, although she looked much more amused by the comment than Harry would have expected. 
“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” Harry asked. 
“Do you not know what cockblocking is? The term seems pretty self explanatory but it’s when-” 
“I know what it means, Seamus,” growled Harry.”I just don’t know what you mean.” 
“I believe that’s his colorful way of talking about the fact that you were the main obstacle preventing Ron from progressing beyond friends with Hermione,” suggested Dean. 
“Uh, in the name of gender equality, he was also the main obstacle preventing Hermione from making a move on Ron,” said Parvati. Dean tipped his drink in her direction in agreement. 
“Human birth control, if you will,” suggested George. 
“The opposite of an aphrodisiac for the two of them, if that’s a thing,” said Ginny. Harry gapped at her, startled by her comment.  
“It is, it’s called an anaphrodisiac,” Hermione supplied.   
“Oh, that’s interesting. What things are considered anaphrodisiac?” asked Angelina. 
“Alcohol, right?” said Dean. 
“Not in my experience,” said Seamus, wagging his eyebrows. 
“That’s not what Cara Johnson told Padma,” said Parvati. 
“Alcohol and tobacco and some other elements that go into pain relieving medications and potions. There was also recently a study around licorice of all things.” 
“Red or black?” asked Neville, who had just returned from the bar with a fresh pitcher. 
“Hmm,” said George thoughtfully. “Licorice wands but droopy. There’s a Wheeze in there somewhere.”  
“Dabberblimps are also said to have an impact on sexual desire but I think that’s more due to the smell,” said Luna. 
“No, wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait,” said Harry, completely aghast. “Are you all saying it took Ron and Hermione two years to get together and it was my fault?” 
“Look, Harry, no one should be saying you were the main obstacle in it. Hermione and I certainly could have done more to rise above it,” said Ron in what he thought was a consoling tone. 
“Honestly, everyone at this table could have done more,” said Neville, gesturing to the group who nodded in agreement. 
“But it is fair to say that Harry carries most of the blame,” said Seamus. 
“Outside of Ron and I,” Hermione clarified. 
“This is unbelievable,” said Harry. 
“Look, Hermione and I have talked about it and there’s no hard feelings. It all worked out in the end.” 
“You’ve talked about this?!” Ron shrugged. “Hermione,” Harry turned to his friend with a pleading tone. “You are the most rational person I know. You can’t seriously agree with this?” 
“I pluck up the courage to ask Ron out and you created as much noise as possible and practically threw a bowl across the room before I could clarify it was a date.” 
“It was awkward!” 
“Are you saying we’ve never done anything awkward for your sake?” Ron chuckled. 
“No but… come on, it was obvious that was a date!” 
“I told you I thought she asked me as a friend and you never said anything!”   
“Wait,” said Angelina. “Harry, there was a misunderstanding between them that you knew about and you didn’t say anything to clear it up?” 
“It was awkward!” 
“Not only that,” said Hermione. “I asked him why Ron was angry with me so I could fix it and he knew why but he didn’t tell me.” 
“It… was awkward,” said Harry weakly. “And! And! The reason Ron was angry with you was ridiculous. You had snogged Krum two year ago. I didn’t want to make him look stupid.”
“Yeah,” said Ron dryly. “You really kept me from looking like an idiot in sixth year. Cheers.” 
“I’m sorry,” Parvati said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you saying that if you had one awkward conversation, we would have avoided the entire debacle that was Lavender and Ron?”  
“Yes,” said Hermione. 
“Pretty much,” said Ron. 
Parvati turned to Harry. “Potter, there are hours, days, WEEKS of my life that I will never get back that I spent dealing with that nightmare.” 
“What, do you think it was a picnic for me?!” 
“No! That makes it worse!” cried Parvati. 
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” exploded Harry. “Just go up to Hermione and say, ‘Ron is jealous as hell that you kissed Victor Krum  You should go talk to him and get this sorted before Slughorn’s party’?”
“YES!” shouted the entire table.  
Harry noticed that Ginny had joined the chorus and rounded on her. “What about you? You could have stepped in just as well as I could have!” 
“I was mad at Ron and for good reason!” she retorted. “But yes, I could have done more. I’ll admit, part of it was that up until the point that you kissed me, I was a little worried that you were doing it because you had a thing for Hermione. I was worried that if I helped get the two of them together, you would totally spiral.”
“I thought that was why you were doing it too,” said Dean. 
“You did?” said Ginny with a smile. “You never told me that. I guess we were pretty compatible back then.”
“Hey! Am I not getting dealt enough blows?” said Harry indignantly and the table laughed. 
“Harry was never interested in Hermione,” said Luna with a tone of declaring the matter settled. “I did suspect he fancied Ron though.”
“Wha- okay, Luna, no,” Harry sputtered. “So I’m apparently responsible for the dumbest fight the two of you ever had but-” 
“Not responsible for the fight but you showed a lack of accountability in resolving it,” clarified Hermione. 
“Fine. So why didn’t you get together after Ron and Lavender broke up? You didn’t kiss until the final battle. How was that my fault?”  
“Didn’t Ron tell us Harry tried to break up that kiss too with some sort of snide comment?” George said to Angelina.  
“Snide comment?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “I reminded them that there was a war going on. THERE WAS LITERALLY A WAR GOING ON!” 
“It was coming to a natural conclusion,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. 
“So that was really the first time you two kissed?” asked Dean. “Because when we uh, met up that spring, it seemed like something was going on.” 
“Well, we certainly made some progress to understanding we were on the same page,” said Hermione. “But things were complicated.”
“It was miserable and it really would have been pretty awkward to start something with Harry around all the time,” said Ron.
“Good call,” said George. “After tonight, I think we all know that Harry’s boggart takes the form of awkward interactions.” 
“At the point we found Dean and Luna, we both knew it was inevitable but we also had to finish helping Harry,” said Hermione. 
“Plus, you want to talk cockblock? Harry has nothing on Griphook,” said Ron. Dean nodded sagely and Hermione wrinkled her nose in agreement.  
“Finished helping me? You weren’t picking up my dry cleaning, we were saving the world!” 
“Harry, you are taking this way too personally,” said Hermione. “We don’t think you were truly trying to keep us apart but your desire to stay out of our relationship and your mild self-absorption caused a lot of complications.”  
“I don’t know why someone would take being called self absorbed personally,” George remarked and Ginny snorted. 
“Hermione, you don’t get it. You’re letting him off the hook too easily because you’re a woman. A man does not prevent a friend from getting laid. It’s basically an Unbreakable Vow that’s entrenched in our DNA,” said Seamus. 
“Ugh,” scoffed Parvati. “I honestly don’t know why we hang out with you.” 
“No, really,” insisted Seamus. “Take tonight as an example. Dean and Neville. You two are solid mates, yeah?” Both men nodded. “Right, so Dean goes up to the bar to get a new pitcher. Who comes up to wait on him but Hannah Abbott. Suddenly, Neville needs a glass of water. And what happens next?” 
Neville turned red. “I uh, I went up to the bar to ask Hannah for a glass while she was waiting on Dean.” 
“And as soon as Neville appears and starts talking to Hannah, I gave him a nudge and say ‘I have to hit the head. Can you bring that back to the table?’”
Harry scoffed. “How does you sticking Neville with the tab help him?” 
“You never did read that book I gave you, did you?” said Ron, incredulously. 
“I didn’t take a piss, I came back to the table so Neville could chat up Hannah. And?” 
Neville gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m taking her out tomorrow,” he admitted. 
“Ha!” Seamus punched the air triumphantly. “One friend getting another friend laid. It’s beautiful.” 
“It’s a first date,” Neville protested. “We’re not going to-” 
“We’ll work on it,” Seamus assured him. 
“Ron’s never tried to get me laid!” Harry shouted desperately. This comment was met with general revulsion. 
“Whoa! Come on,” said Dean, his face contorted. 
“That’s his sister,” said Neville. 
“For fuck’s sake man,” said Seamus disgustedly. The idea that Seamus was disgusted with him made Harry even more defensive. 
“Hermione is like my sister!” insisted Harry. 
“To be fair to Ron and it pains me to do so,” said Ginny. “Ron really only got in our way that one time after we broke up and as pissed as I was at the time, I think it came from a genuinely good place.”
“And I had no idea you liked Ginny until you snogged her right in front of me!” said Ron. 
“You never said anything about Hermione until we were in the woods!’ 
“Oh, Harry, really?” said Ginny with pity. “I don’t think that’s the way to go.” 
“Yeah, okay, but - hey, what about that one time with Cho?” Harry said accusingly to Ron. 
“I called Cho out for being a bandwagon fan one time when I was 15 and now I’m doomed to a life of interrupted shags,” Ron appealed to the room. 
“You’re together now,” said Harry weakly. 
“Despite your best efforts,” joked George. 
“And yet you haven’t relinquished your title as The Boy Who Blocked,” said Ron. 
“You do have extraordinarily bad timing,” said Hermione.
“Back to Seamus’s original point, you two are pretty gross.”
“I’m sorry, are you saying that I still am-” 
“In a much more literal sense now,” said Ron. Hermione gave him a playful smack on the chest. 
“Give me an example!” Harry insisted heatedly. 
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look that was familiar to Harry but he didn’t recognize. “Harry, it really isn’t a big deal,” said Hermione reassuringly. 
“Well, last weekend, right?” said George. “At Shell Cottage for Fleur’s birthday. You wanted to get Ron so he could try those beignets Gabrielle brought and we told you they would be back soon but you insisted on walking down the beach and…” 
“Yeah, and I found them past the alcove and - wait,” Harry stopped suddenly. “Is that why you were-?” Harry made a gesture too vague to interpret but Hermione squirmed in her chair and Ron inhaled sharply. 
Harry’s jaw dropped. “And last month when Ginny and I were over to listen to the Cannons’ match and you were so weird when I came in the kitchen to see why the snacks were taking so long…and Thursday? Hermione is that why you…” He trailed off as Hermione bit her lip and looked away while Ron rubbed the back of his neck. 
“Oh my God,” said Harry incredulously.  
“Harry, we’re so sorry if we made you uncomfortable,” said Hermione, sounding sincere for the first time all night. 
“Oh my God!” Harry repeated louder, this time, disgusted.
“We were making up for lost time, which you have a part in,” Ron pointed out. 
“Oh my God,” Harry said a third time, his tone full of realization.
“Are you okay Harry?” asked Ginny gently. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he said distractedly. A quiet set over the group within the roaring pub. 
“So Neville,” said Angelina in a voice full of forced cheer. “Where are you taking Hannah tomorrow?” 
“Oh, you should take her to this great new place in Hogsmeade. Padma and I had lunch there last week and the dinner menu looks amazing,” Parvati said. 
Harry looked glumly at his drink, barely noticing the glances his two best friends were exchanging. 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Harry?” came a familiar voice from the fireplace. 
It was the next morning. Ginny was off to practice and would be staying the evening with her team, as she did the day prior to every match. The standing tradition was that on these days, he had lunch with Ron and Hermione. As much as he loved Ginny and knew that Ron and Hermione did too, he liked having time as just the three of them. 
But he had cancelled this morning, citing a hangover and crossed his fingers that Ron would be able to persuade Hermione to leave him be. 
No such luck. 
He heard a whoosh, followed by a second. “Harry?” 
He sighed. “In here,” he called quietly from his armchair. Both of his friends popped around the corner. “Couldn’t hold her off?” 
Ron sank into the chair across from him, threw his legs on the ottoman and grinned. “Actually, I didn’t even try.” 
Hermione tapped Ron’s feet and he scooted them over to give her enough room to sit on the ottoman. “Harry, why are you avoiding us?” 
“‘m not,” he mumbled. “Just drank too much last night.” 
“You got there after everyone else so you missed the first two rounds of shots Seamus forced on us and I only saw you refill your glass once.” 
Harry shrugged. “I had a couple drinks when I got home.” 
“Look, we didn’t mean to upset you. Like Hermione said, we had a few before you got there and we were just having a go,” said Ron. 
“Yeah but it was true,” said Harry sullenly. 
“Well,” said Hermione, flattening her skirt nervously. “Yes, all of those things happened. But it was a long time ago. We’ve been together almost three years now. And we were certainly exaggerating a bit to have some fun. So there’s nothing for you to be upset about.”
Harry straightened up in his chair. “You don’t get it! Since I started at Hogwarts, you two have been the most important people in my life and you still are, plus Gin and Teddy. And you cared about me and you two always tried to do what you thought was going to help me and be best for me and last night I realized...I didn’t do that for you!” 
“Harry, you know that’s not true!” said Hermione. 
“Yes it is! I thought about how Cho and I couldn’t even look at each other anymore and I didn’t want that to happen to you two. It was always best when it was the three of us and I didn’t want anything to mess that. You were right, I was so self absorbed!” 
“Harry,” said Ron, rolling his eyes. 
“Of course you were,” said Hermione dismissively. 
“Okay, now I am regretting letting you come over here,” said Ron. 
“We all were!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Harry, Ron and I were so wrapped up in our own drama sixth year that we didn’t realize the depth of your fixation with Malfoy until you had practically murdered him!”   
“Well, whose fault is that? There would have been no drama had I said something! And all our friends think I didn’t say something because I was in love with Hermione. I mean, you must have thought that too,” Harry said miserably, gesturing to Ron. 
“I never really thought you were interested in Hermione but I was terrified Hermione would fall for you,” said Ron.
“What’s wrong with me that you didn’t think Harry would be interested?” said Hermione in a teasing tone that was clearly meant to lighten the mood, flicking Ron’s foot.  
“Absolutely nothing. This git doesn’t know what he’s missing, thank God.”  
Harry ignored them. “Had we cleared that up the year before, we could have avoided a few devastating weeks during the hunt, yeah?”  
“Harry, there’s no way I’m letting you take responsibility for what the Horcrux said or for me leaving you two,” Ron said. 
“We’re certainly not re-litigating any of that,” said Hermione. She turned and looked at Ron. “But when we were talking about all of this at home last night, we both agreed that once we were on the run, we made conscious decisions to not start anything until the war was complete.” 
Ron nodded. “It’s true, I felt the same.” 
“Great, I did it again,” Harry moaned. “You two were worried about me instead of enjoying your evening.”
“Harry, we still enjoyed our evening-” 
“Twice,” interrupted Ron. 
“But you’re our friend and we are always going to worry about you,” Hermione finished, paying Ron no mind. “It actually made me realize that we maybe could have had a relationship and taken care of you.”  
Harry groaned.
 “Harry, you took care of us too,” Ron said. “I mean, in the end, you didn’t want Hermione and I to stop being friends because you knew that would make us just as  miserable as you. And you weren’t wrong. And I don’t know, maybe this was all just the way it was supposed to be. Maybe Hermione and I are better because we got all the petty shit out before we were together. Maybe the three of us are better friends because we focused on that for so long. So we’re okay, if you’re okay.” 
Harry sat silently for a moment. “I’m going to try to be better about the .. you know, blocking. But seriously, I know we have a bit of a don’t ask, don’t tell on the subject but you could have clued me in,” Harry complained to Ron. 
“Fair enough,” laughed Ron. 
“Or you could not shag at parties.” 
“Just… if you suddenly don’t see us, wait at least 10 minutes before you come and look for us,” suggested Hermione. 
“Oi! 10 minutes?” said Ron, offended. 
“Harry,” Hermione sighed. “It is apparently very important for you to know that Ron satisfies me sexually.” 
“I assumed that once I figured out you were willing to do that for him there on Thursday,” Harry said. 
Hermione blushed. “You’re making that sound much worse than it was. And you keep biting your tongue!” she finished, pulling her legs up and shifting back so she was sitting in the chair next to Ron. 
“I didn’t say anything!” Ron said, although he looked very pleased with himself. “Now, can we please go get lunch?” 
“All right, you two figure out where to eat. Give me 10 minutes and we’ll go,” Harry laughed, standing up from his chair. 
“Harry, have you learned nothing? Make it 20,” said Ron. 
73 notes · View notes
harrysweasleys · 4 years
Text
A Change Of Heart
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader
Summary: Being Snape’s daughter, people think you have it easy at school, despite being a Gryffindor. But they treat you differently, no one really wants to be around you due to Snape’s reputation. And lucky for you, the only person who understands is Draco. [3rd year.]
Warnings: None
Word count: 2,140
Tumblr media
A whisper made its way across the class as your father walked in. Usually, people whispered about him anyways, but considering Lupin was supposed to be teaching instead of your dad, they seemed a little more irritated than usual.
You lowered your head, avoiding the confused glares people sent your way about why he was here. The blinds were suddenly shut and darkness spread across the quiet room as your father turned to face the class.
“Turn to page 394.”
You noticed the thick book in front of you that you didn’t remember bringing in at all. Sharing a look with Hermione who seemed as startled as everyone else, you slowly started flipping to said page, passing the lessons you should have bee doing today.
“Uh, excuse me, sir?” Harry’s voice broke through the stillness, “Where’s professor Lupin?”
You kept your head lowered, knowing that your father’s relationship with Harry often got quite ugly, and you didn’t want to deal with that right now.
“That’s not really your concern, is it, Potter?” He spoke slowly, before raising an eyebrow and walking to the back of the class, “Suffice it to say your professor finds himself unable to teach at the present time. Turn to page 394.”
You heard a thud of pages to your left and Ron Weasley let out a gasp, “Werewolves?”
You scanned across the page, noticing that indeed, you guys were going to be learning about werewolves. Why, you had no idea.
“Werewolves? But sir, we just started learning about redcaps and hinkypunks. We’re not meant to start this for weeks.” Hermione spoke up, catching the attention of your already pissed off father.
He glared at her, his gaze softening once it landed on you next to her, “Quiet. Now, can anyone tell me the difference between a werewolf and an animagus?”
Looking around and noticing no one else had raised their hands, except for Hermione of course, your slowly raised yours.
“Y/N?” Your father spoke slowly.
Hiding the redness creeping up your neck from the sudden attention, you steadied your voice, “An animagus is someone who elects to turn themselves into an animal. A werewolf has no choice. With each full moon, he or she forgets who they are, they’d kill anyone who crossed their path.”
Your father smiled briefly at you before covering it with a glare at the rest of the class, “Good. Now, by Monday morning on my desk I want two rolls of parchment on the werewolf, with emphasis on recognizing it.”
The class broke out into groans, mostly from the loud Slytherin boys at the back of the class. You ducked your head, knowing people were going to make snide comments to you about how strict your father is when you went back to the Common Room.
“Sir, it’s Quidditch tomorrow,” Harry groaned, stopping once he was face to face with the angry professor.
“Then I suggest you take extra care. Loss of limb will not excuse you,” he spoke in Harry’s face before turning back to face the rest of the class and continuing his lecture. You tuned him out slightly, scribbling little notes in your book now and then when your ears caught certain words, but apart from that, you weren’t paying attention.
What felt like four hours later, the class ended and you grabbed your books, moving as quickly as you could out of the class to avoid any confrontation.
“Snape is the worst, wish he’d just jump off a cliff,” a girl muttered to her friend as she pushed by you, her friend agreeing with her.
“Can’t believe he’s got us doing all of this, doesn’t he understand that he’s not the only professor in the entire school,” Harry grumbled to Ron as they turned the corner away from you. You tuned out the crowd, rushing to a corner to take a breath. You hated how all you ever heard was how terrible, cruel, awful, disgusting your father was. Sure, you disagreed with his methods sometimes, but you loved him.
You felt tears prick your eyes and you tried your best to hide them as you hid your face, letting the crowd of students pass by in a rush to get out of Defence Against the Dark Arts.
As the crowd died down, you took a deep breath and prepared to go back into the hall, but you were interrupted by a voice from right beside you.
“What’s got you looking like you want to cry in the shower for eight years?”
You snapped your head to the right, eyes immediately landing on Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall, eyes on you.
“It’s nothing,” you hid your face in your hair once more, looking down to the books you were clutching in your hands, hoping he’d drop the subject with lack of care.
“Oh, please, I know that look. I see countless people crying in hidden corners every day,” he crossed his arms, not breaking eye contact. You had never really spoken to him, but you knew all about him and his family from your dad. They were, what you could call, ‘work buddies.’
“Draco, just leave me alone,” you sighed, pushing your hair behind your ear to face him. A look of sympathy crossed his face as he noticed how upset you actually were.
“Come with me.” He grabbed your arm gently and pulled you down the hall. You barely knew him, but for some reason you found yourself following after him without fighting. He pulled you down hallways, ignoring the strange glances people shot your way, and pulled you into a quiet classroom. You had never been in here before, and by the looks of it, it hadn’t been touched in years.
“Talk. I’m a good listener.” He shot you a genuine smile. You cocked an eyebrow, wondering why he was being so kind to you, but you didn’t feel like arguing.
“Fine,” you sat down on a dusty chair, “It’s tough being Snape’s daughter. Don’t get me wrong, he’s… a great dad, but the stuff that students say about him gets to me.”
He nodded slowly, “I get it.”
“You do?”
He smiled at you, nodding his head, “Yeah, kind of. My father has a reputation too. Not a good one. I know that people talk about him when I’m around. It sucks.”
You nodded slowly, “That does sucks, I’m sorry.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “Don’t be sorry, I’ve dealt with it my whole life. I had a feeling that’s what was bothering you. Anyways, all I’m saying is you can’t let them get to you. No one ever really likes their teacher. There’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
You laughed sarcastically, “Wow, really helpful, thanks. I feel loads better.”
He stepped off the desk and walked closer to you, “I’m serious, you can’t let what other people say affect you. Your dad doesn’t care what people say about him, so nor should you.”
He was right. Your dad didn’t care what people thought of him. You figured you might have overreacted slightly, but he was your family. You didn’t want people talking about him that way.
“You’re right,” you muttered, looking up at him with a little more determination, “You’re right, I shouldn’t let what people say affect how I feel.”
And from then on, you tried not to. You’d ignore the glares, the negative comments, and you even got closer to Draco. He sometimes sat with you in Potions where he knew students would treat you a little meaner. You’d hang out with him in the evenings to avoid the Common Room, and sometimes you’d find yourself hanging out with him without even having an excuse.
“So, that’s when I told him that I’d shove my wand so far up his nose it’d come out the back of his skull,” you finished your story, Draco bursting into laughter, his shoulders shaking.
“That’s how you get someone to leave you alone!” He continued laughing, his cheeks turning slightly pink and his hair falling into his face. For some reason you found yourself wanting to gently tuck the strand back with the rest of his hair, but you couldn’t figure out why the sudden urge. You shook your head, clearing yourself of your thoughts before cracking a smile.
“I guess it is,” you smiled, hiding the blush that crept onto your cheeks. Damn Draco Malfoy and his stupid charm.
“So, I’ve got to run off to stupid Transfiguration, talk to you later,” he picked up the book on his lap and stood up, waving goodbye and taking off down the courtyard and into the castle. As he disappeared inside, you let out a sigh, leaning back against the cold bench and shaking your head. You knew damn well you were developing feelings, but there was no way in hell you were okay with it.
You stood up, trying to clear your head before taking off into the castle. You slowly made your way up to the Common Room, taking your time as you didn’t really have anywhere else to be. You spoke the password to the fat lady and walked in, plopping down on the couch in front of the crackling fire.
You sat there for what felt like hours, the clouds rolling in and the magical fire not dying down in the slightest, before you heard a faint knock at the door. You had never really heard anyone knock before, so you got up, figuring Neville or Ginny had forgotten the password again, but stumbled back in shock when Draco stood in front of the doorway, hands in his pockets and an awkward smile on his face.
“Draco?”
“Yep, hi.” He grinned, motioning for you to step outside, which you did.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, moving out of the way to let a group of Gryffindors walk past the painting. Draco shrugged, seemingly embarrassed.
“Do you, I don’t know, wanna go for a walk?” He asked nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders once again as if he had an irritating twitch and something on his mind.
“Sure,” you grinned, letting him lead the way down the stairs. You walked in silence for a while, almost as if Draco wanted to lead you somewhere private to talk. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but you knew that he was taking you on a walk for a certain reason and you could feel unwelcome nerves bundling in your stomach.
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer, but his pace quickened and you followed suit. Eventually, you found yourself in front of the same classroom as he had dragged you in a week before, and you followed him inside without saying anything. You felt your heart beating against your ribcage, slightly out of breath from the half-jog you did the whole way here.
He shut the door behind you, his breathing picking up.
“Draco, you’re being weird… are you ok?” You asked, approaching him cautiously.
He turned to face you, eyes wild and cheeks still slightly pink. Before answering you, he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to meet his. His lips were soft, despite his actions, and you felt your knees buckle.
He immediately pulled away, “I- I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”
You felt your cheeks flushed as you tried to wrap your head around what just happened. He noticed your silence and nodded his head slowly, making his way back to the door. Holy crap.
“Wait, Draco,” you tried to speak but it came out as more of a squeak. He turned around, eyes slightly hurt but he stayed to listen.
“Come back here,” you smiled, watching his slow steps as he took his sweet time walking back to you.
As he stood in front of you, his breathing still quick, you gazed up into his eyes and lifted your arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through his hair, pushing his head down, connecting his lips with yours.
He leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his body flush against yours. You smiled into the kiss, loving the feeling of his lips moving against yours. He lifted you up slightly, lips not leaving yours, and placed you on a desk, one of his hands finding its way into your hair as the two of you started heating up.
He started placing kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, his gentle hands gripping onto you as if you were to disappear between his fingers. Before he could make his way back to your lips, the door swung open and an angry figure stood in the doorway. Draco pulled away in a second, shielding you from whoever’s eyes were on the two of you.
“Malfoy, what are you doing to my daughter?”
623 notes · View notes
rons-hermiones · 3 years
Text
Come Find Me
Come Find Me
by rons-hermiones
Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)
Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.
Chapter Four
Not even realizing it, Ron had wallowed in self pity and hatred the rest of the ride. Eventually, the train came to a halt as he hurried to leave Lavender’s compartment, not being able to stomach another talk with her. 
Scrambling, he walks down the corridor against the mass of students and eventually retrieves his trunk, stepping from the platform later then most. 
The mass of redheads is easy to spot despite the crowd. 
His Mum is embracing Ginny as he sees Harry shaking his Dad’s hand. Fred and George have also come, he watches as they step forward and tenderly embrace Hermione. The act is out of character for the pair, but he figured that this gesture coincided with the McLaggen stint. 
The three begin talking in what seems like hushed whispers, no doubt about what transpired, well that is until Ron gathered the courage to join his family. 
As his mother called his name and embraced him, Hermione went silent. Slowly, she slinked back, away from the twins, away from the Weasley’s. 
She was never supposed to even be here. Hermione had told herself that she needed to separate herself from them in order to ensure Ron had the holiday he deserved without her bothering him. 
Ron seemed to notice this, heart breaking a little. He wanted nothing more than to hug her himself and assure that he wanted her here, that he was so happy she was. 
He couldn’t though, not yet anyway, not when he was still reeling from his half breakup with Lavender not long ago. 
Instead, he grabbed onto the Port Key his father got from work, jolting slightly as Hermione’s fingertips gently brushed his as she grasped the old scarf they were using. 
Once the dizziness had subsided and they landed on the grass in Ottery St. Catchpole, he was disappointed to see Hermione already retrieving into the Burrow, ahead of everyone else. Alone. 
He can’t help but groan aloud. 
“Did you do it?” Harry asks as he offers a hand and helps Ron from the ground. 
In response all the youngest Weasley brother can manage is a groan. 
“Sort of.” Ron whispers slightly embarrassed. 
“Sort of?” Harry questions rather loudly, warranting a glance from Ginny who is only a few paces ahead. 
“Shush,” The ginger starts, “and I mean the words ‘I’m breaking up with you’, certainly left my mouth. More than once. In a variety of ways.” He explained, his anger bubbling back up at the recollection.  
“Alright so you did it?” The Boy-Who-Lived asked, confusion evident in his tone. 
“Yeah I told her that and she definitely heard but all she said was no,” at this point he’s stopped walking, “that’s completely mental! I told the girl it was done with and she said no!” He was yelling now. 
At this point, Ginny had come to a full stop, the twins were lingering by the front door, and Hermione had thankfully disappeared  inside along with his parents. Harry was faced with horror stricken on his features. 
“You keep it down!” The dark haired boy staged whispered. 
Ron twinged as red as his hair, “sorry,” he said lamely, “she even started on Hermione. By that time I had already told her it was done twice, maybe three times.” 
A low whistle escaped the chosen ones lips, “so let me get this straight, you broke up with Lavender at least three times, and all she said was no?” This sounded like something out of a Muggle film. 
He nodded, a sour look on his face, “And after all this, she kissed me on the cheek, called me ‘sweetheart’, and wished me a Happy Christmas!” He recapped sounding beside himself. 
“You’re right,” Harry said after a moment, “that is mental.” 
At this the pair started trudging along the grass again, taking it slow as they wanted to finish the conversation away from prying ears. 
“Good news is you did break up with her.” The green eyed boy tried optimistically, a rare thing from him these days. 
Harry was really trying to be a better friend. 
“Bad news is I don’t think Lavender broke up with me.” He notes. 
The pair seemingly sigh in unison, both frustrated, one more so then the other. 
“So what? I just tell Hermione I’ve broken it off with Lavender? I’m sure by now she’s owled all of England that we’re still together.” 
Potter contemplates the situation for a moment before answering, “well you can tell Hermione you’ve told Lavender you’re done but she didn’t seem to accept the fact. Even though that may be the case, when we head back you’ll be implementing this break up full force. Avoiding Lavender even more than before, as if we thought that was possible!” He tries to joke.
Surprisingly a small laugh sounds it’s way past Ron’s lips, “I suppose.” By this point they’ve reached the front door, “it’s kind of mad to be thinking about all this with everything going on isn’t it?” He thinks aloud. 
Harry shrugs, “I know your life may feel like a bad soap opera but it’s quite nice for me to focus on something else for a bit. Especially if it helps you and Hermione out.” He pushes open the door and finally steps inside. 
“A soap what?”
...
Hermione really wished there was a spare room in the Weasley home. Not that she’d ever ask for it, being she would never want to upset Ginny. But an escape would be nice. 
Surely Ginny will try and get her to talk about everything that’s transpired lately, especially with the red heads new found confidence her brother wants to try and patch things up. 
It didn’t matter though, Charlie and Bill were returning for holiday for the first time in years apparently so there was no available room to escape to. And being Fleur was joining as well, Percy’s room was off the table. 
Hermione supposes she’ll just have keep Ginny at bay as long as possible. Which should be easy enough considering all the action within the Weasley household. 
Even now, unpacking her trunk a floor above them, she could hear the hustle and bustle of the Burrow. 
The twins were no doubt sounding off somewhere. Ginny was probably yelling at them to keep it down. It’s very likely Mrs. Weasley was cleaning the house to prepare for Charlie and Bill’s arrival. Mr. Weasley was somewhere consoling said stressed out wife, resulting in more screams. And as previously mentioned, the twins were probably sounding off to Harry and Ron. 
And right now as she considers all this play out, she can’t help but feel a little empty. 
For the first time since she’s been a guest at the Burrow, does she feel like a true guest. Hermione doesn’t feel like she’s at home. Not like she normally does. 
She knows exactly why too. 
After the run in with Lavender and Ron this morning, she decided she’d back off. Ron was probably better off without her constant nagging and knowledge of useless facts. Hermione would do her best to stay out of his way, starting with holiday. She’d hate for him to feel uncomfortable in his own house of all places. And after, she supposes she’ll do the same at Hogwarts. For him. 
It’s kind of twisted isn’t it? Even after all the times she’s felt hurt by Ron, she still cares about him more than anything else. 
Even now, she can still feel her heart clenching, breaking, as he agreed to the terms earlier in the compartment. The feeling alone may kill her, yet, here she is, willing to make that sacrifice for him. For his happiness. 
All this coupled with the pain of her grandmother's condition has been borderline unbearable. She wishes she still had Ron to help her through this. She needs his strength. 
Too bad she’s ruined that. 
As much as she’s yearning to blame Ron for their divide she knows it’s entirely her fault. Because despite being the brightest witch of her age, she is surely stupid for thinking he could ever love her back. To even think he thought of her like that in the slightest. 
Asking him to Slughorn’s,  it had taken everything for her to do. To him it meant nothing. 
And if the past few months have taught her anything, it’s probably that Ron just stuck around for Harry and as an extension, Hermione. All the taunts and jabs Lavender was constantly throwing her way must be true in Ron’s eyes, she isn’t exactly shy about the whole thing. 
And part of her brain convinces herself that Ron thinks she’s an insufferable, ugly, no good know it all. But part of her knows that isn’t true. 
Ron, who saved her from that troll her first year. 
Ron, whose voice rang in her head every night while she was laying petrified. 
Ron, who defended her mercilessly during their confrontation with Peter Pettigrew, despite having a torn up leg. 
Ron, who comforted her to no end when the nerves struck before the second task. 
Ron, who gently would rub dittany on the backs of her hands after detentions with Umbridge. 
Harry hadn’t been there for any of that. Surely that must mean something. 
And deep down she knows it does, but whenever the rational part of her brain pushes that forward, images of him wrapped around Lavender flicker in her head. These thoughts quickly bring back unwelcome ones of the possibility of Ron loathing her. 
She really wishes things were simple. Harry spent summers and holidays with Sirius at Grimmauld place. That Neville could talk to his parents and they’d recognize him. That Ginny would stop tossing and turning, mumbling things about a diary in her sleep. That she didn’t fear for her parents lives everyday. That her grandma would be magically healed and she’d take Ron and Harry up to France one summer to meet her. 
She wishes that Ron was her friend again. If not more. 
But that’s the problem, these are all just wishes. Figments of her imagination, something her heart longs for. Something that’ll never come true. 
And just like that, her thoughts are becoming too much. She’s supposes it’s a bit of a curse to always have your mind working this way. 
Tears begin stinging the backs of her eyes and Hermione wants nothing more to immerse herself within a book. To forget for a little while. Maybe even let her mind wander to a brighter future. 
But instead, she makes use of her whizzing brain by beginning to unpack her trunk. First she checks for the black book, that’s now a lifeline to her. Once she spots it, she relaxes a little and silently begins preparing a letter to her parents in her head. 
Surely that letter would evoke more unwelcome emotions. 
Happy holidays to her. 
...
So far life at the Burrow has been rather uneventful. Sure, they only arrived here three hours ago, but deep down everyone had this silly little notion that upon their return everything would change. 
Of course it didn’t. 
The twins were still taking the mickey out of Ron and Harry. Ginny still yelled when their fighting reached her in the living room. Molly still fussed over preparing the house for her eldest sons as her husband tried to calm her. 
In a way it was nice though, that things were the same. Sure, everyone wishes they could be better 
There was one notable difference. 
Normally, Hermione could be found sniggering behind Fred and George or defending Ron and Harry from their taunts. If not, she was curled up on the sofa with Ginny as she complained over her Quidditch magazine. Oftentimes, the witch was offering Mrs. Weasley assistance with household chores or was explaining a Muggle appliance to Arthur. 
Instead, she was just gone. 
And no one noticed her absence more than Ron. 
“Ginny, be a dear and fetch Hermione for supper would you?” Molly’s voice didn’t leave much room for argument. 
Ron peered up from where he had been setting down the utensils to see his sister rush up the steps leaving a flash of red. 
Upstairs, Ginny tapped on the door lightly, waiting a moment before pushing it open. There, she found Hermione slumped over the youngest Weasley’s desk, writing mercilessly on some parchment. She was honestly shocked to find her nose not in that odd, coverless book. 
“Hermione.” She called out, the brunette hadn’t noticed her presence. 
Startled, Hermione jumped a bit before relaxing at the sight, “yes?” Her voice cracked. 
“It’s time to eat.” Ginny told her. 
“Gin,” The bushy haired girl sighed, “I hate to be rude, but could you tell your mother I won’t be joining you guys tonight.” 
The ginger shook her head, “Hermione if this is about,” 
Granger wouldn’t let the name pass her friends lips, “it’s not about him.” Not a total lie. “I just want to get this owl out to my parents as soon as I can. I have some questions about...” she trailed feeling the tears prick her eyes. Clearing her throat she went on, “anyway, I ate on the train. I promise once I’m finished here I’ll explain everything to your Mum.”
Ginny began to open her mouth questioning the use of the word ‘everything’. Hermione, being brilliant, seemed to sense where this was going and bear her to it. 
“Everything about my Grandma.” She amended. 
Noticing the sad look in the sixth tears eyes, Ginny conceded, “alright but I’m saving you a plate and you best eat it later!” She scolded, sounding just like Molly. 
At this, Hermione was able to muster a true genuine giggle, “thank you Ginny.” She called as the girl vacated the room. 
The last thing Ginny heard Hermione say was a quick ‘thank you’ before she descended back downstairs. 
As she re entered the kitchen she noted everyone seated already, waiting for her. For them. 
Molly however, was standing, hands on her hips and stern look on her face. 
“Now Ginny I asked you to fetch Hermione.” She scolded with a wag of her finger. 
Sighing, the girl plopped down, “she isn’t hungry.”
All the younger Weasley and Harry, had exchanged knowing glances. Ron however, decided to bow his head, focus his eyes on the floor boards. 
“Non sense!” Her mother started. 
“Mum honest, I told her we’d save her plate.” She pauses as her mother frowns, “look Hermione’s got a lot going on right now.”
Concern struck over Molly instantly, “oh Merlin! Is she okay? Are her parents alright?” Then she swiftly turned to the twins, “have you two done something to her?” The older woman asked sharply. 
“We didn’t do anything mother.” Fred starts. 
“Yeah it wasn’t us who did something.” George says next, emphasis on the statement as he looks to Ron. 
“Not us!” They sound off in unison. 
Noticing Ron’s fist clenching beneath the table Ginny jumps in, “it’s nothing like that, it hasn’t got to do with the Burrow.” Her eyes found Ron’s as if to tell him that Hermione wouldn’t spill to their mother about Lavender Brown, “Hermione and her parents are alright. It’s best if she explains.”
Molly opens her mouth to protest before Arthur cuts her off, “it’s okay Molly, the girls fine, remember? We saw her hours ago. Come on let’s eat.” He reasons. 
Nodding to herself Mrs.Weasley finally calms down as they start their meal. 
And dinner was going fine. Ron had done little talking, thankful that Harry was the one recapping the Quidditch season thus far. 
Again, everything was fine. Until Arthur asked his twin boys about their business. 
“So boys how are things down in the alley?” The older man asking, earning a scowl from is  disapproving wife. 
“Wicked dad.” George says. 
 Placing his fork down Fred jumps in, “absolutely wicked. Witch weekly wants to do an article on our love potions, it’ll be great for business.” 
Shockingly, a proud smile crosses Molly’s lips. 
“Yeah we’re thinking of making scented ones, something girls will like. What do girls like?” George wonders, sarcasm underlying his words. 
“Yeah Ronnie, what do girls like?” Fred repeats facing his younger brother. 
Mrs. Weasley not understanding, interjects, “flowers.”
At this Ron grips his knuckles on the table. His brothers are smiling like it’s Christmas morning. His mother just unknowingly set her troublemaker sons up for a joke to make Ron twitch. 
“Hear that Freddie? Flowers.” George grins like the Cheshire Cat. 
“It’s perfect. I wonder which ones though, there are roses.” Fred responds 
“And daisy’s.”
“Orchids.” 
“Jasmine.” 
The pair switch off before Fred’s eyes light up, “wait I got it, how about...”
“Lavender!” The two exclaim in sync. 
Ginny does her best to surprise a chuckle. Harry looks like he wants the floor to eat him. Ron is about to punch something. 
“Yeah how about it Ronnie, Lavender. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” George says leaning in closer to his baby brother. 
A look of anger passes Ron’s face, his Mum  surveys the scene with a curious expression, “what would Ronnie know about Lavender?” Molly questions. 
“Oh mother!” George says scandalized. 
“Ickle Ronniekins didn’t tell you?” Fred asks, already knowing the answer. 
She shakes her head, “on with it.” 
“Your baby boy has a girlfriend.” George announces, loving the luck of disdain across his youngest brother's face. 
“Ronald Weasley!” His mother says standing from her chair and wagging her finger at him. 
Merlin he wishes You-Know-Who would kill him right now. 
“I don’t have a girlfriend Mum.” He defends gruffly. 
“You don’t?” Ginny says with slanted eyes. 
“Not anymore.” Harry mumbles loud enough for everyone to hear. 
“Not anymore?” Molly starts, “and you knew and didn’t tell me Ginny! You boys knew too!” She points to the twins. 
In defense the pair throws up their hands as the red headed girl starts to explain, “it wasn’t really my place to tell. Anyway Mum, it’s not like we were the only ones. Bill knew too.” 
Angrily, Ron stomps on his sister's foot. 
“You told Bill and not your own mother!” She screams, ignoring the yelp that left Ginny’s mouth. 
“Molly...” Arthur warns, trying to tug gently at her sleeve. 
She rips her hand away and places both on her hips, “I am very disappointed in you Ronald! All of you actually.” The woman huffs. 
Ron squirms, “it doesn’t matter. She’s not my girlfriend anymore.” 
“Well...” Harry can’t help but say. 
All eyes land on him. He thinks Ron may strangle him. 
“‘Well’ what Harry Potter?” Ginny asks, tone matching her mother’s. 
Now it’s the chosen ones' turn to squirm, “well,” he repeated, “I don’t think it’s my place to say.” 
At this, all eyes fall back onto Ron. Sighing in defeat, “well you see, the thing is, Lavender is,” 
“Annoying.” Ginny finishes. 
“Loud.” Harry cringes. 
“Pathetic?” George tries 
“Desperate.” Fred corrects. 
And to Arthur and Molly’s surprise, their youngest son nods in agreement, making no move to defend this girl. 
At this, the couple exchange a look. If the twins so much as look at a certain bushy haired witch the wrong way, Ron is up in arms, ready to curse anyone who crosses her. 
“Alright,” Ron says, stopping whatever they were going to say, “let’s just say I chucked her.” 
“That can’t be true! I heard her telling Parvati about how she won’t survive a month without snogging you when we got onto the platform.” Ginny calls out. 
Her brother groans, “Lavender is not my girlfriend anymore, but I might still be her boyfriend.” He explains. 
There’s a silence. 
“I don’t know what you mean son.” His dad finally speaks. 
“What I mean is that when I broke up with her she just said no.” He admits exasperated, pushing back his chair and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. 
One of the twins lets out a low whistle. As the room enters a tense silence until Molly breaks it. 
“Ronald,” she sounds disappointed, “this Lavender wouldn’t have anything to do with why Hermione didn’t join us at dinner would it?” Her voice is growing louder. 
And there it is. 
Of course his mother would know. 
He had been painfully obvious over the years. 
Ron told himself when she didn’t come down that it was because she was probably writing her parents. But, he also knows, Hermione is capable of constructing a letter in minutes. 
“Why would you think that?” He chokes out sounding pathetic. 
The twins and Ginny laugh at this. 
“Ronald Weasley I am very disappointed in you. Look at the mess you’ve made! Your father and I raised you better than to go around treating women this way!” She screams. 
Losing it, Ron stands up angrily matching his mother’s tone, “why are you assuming any of this has got to do with Hermione?” He screams. 
In all the ruckus, he failed to notice the new presence in the doorway. 
“Hermione.” Ginny says loudly, rather soft. 
Annoyed, he turns to his sister, “Ginny I’ve just said,” before he can finish, Harry is pulling on his shirt and bucking his head to the doorway. 
As all eyes fall on her, she shrinks away, looking almost to tears, “I can come back, I just wanted to talk to...” she doesn’t get the words out, lamely she points to Mrs. Weasley. 
And just like that, any anger washes off the older woman’s face, “of course dear,” she steps over and places a hand on her shoulder, “why don’t you wait for me in the living room while I clean this up.” 
Hermione nods vaguely in response before sauntering out of the room. 
“Way to go Ronnie.” George whispers. 
And just like that, Molly is seeing red again, “all four of you, dishes.”  She says to her kids. 
The twins are ready to complain when they realize they can just do magic. 
“And no magic!” She berates. 
“What did we do?” Ginny retorts, “you’re mad at Ron remember?” She reminds. 
“You three didn’t bother to tell your mother anything!” She stops, “and you.” She turns to Harry. 
“Me?” He asks, scared. 
“Yes you, Harry Potter. You are to stay and make sure not one wand is flicked or else all five of you will be working in the gardens until all the gnomes are gone.” 
“But Mum it’s freezing.” Ron groans. 
“Well then you better do as I say, and being that I have no more house duties for tonight, I’m off to talk to Hermione. Goodbye.” At this she stomps away. 
Sympathetically, Arthur pats his youngest son's shoulder before walking off to his shed. 
A tense silence falls over the group as each of the Weasley’s exchange glares. 
“Well time for dishes!” Harry tries to break the tension. 
Scowling, they all work in silence.
14 notes · View notes
adenei · 3 years
Text
I See You
Had an ask the other day from an anon requesting a fic similar to @headcanonsandmore​ ‘s story “All of Me”. Since Headcanons gave me the all clear, here is my take on Ron & Hermione attempting to learn Occlumency (and also Legilimency because they kinda go hand in hand. Set in the summer between HBP and DH at the Burrow 
****************************
Quick personal message to all you wonderful people out there: I’ve had an influx in asks, please bear with me as it’s taking longer to try and tackle them. I try to stick to the order they come in (ish), but sometimes I open the computer and I start writing whichever sticks in my mind first. I don’t want to push things out too quickly and have the quality go to shit, either. I’d also like to get back to some original ideas I’ve got, and some of your asks actually do reflect things I’ve got planned for my own writing. I don’t want to turn my ask box off for a bit, but I may need to. Thank you all again for entrusting me with your ideas. I hope I am doing them justice ❤
**********************************
I See You.
“Ron, I’ve been thinking,” Hermione said as she sat on the floor of his attic bedroom. They’d just finished meeting with the rest of the Order about the initial ideas for a plan to retrieve Harry from the Dursleys. Ron was sitting on his bed, flipping through one of his books on the Chudley Cannons, while Hermione was busy jotting notes down about who knew what.
Ron peered over the book at her. “About what?” he asked apprehensively. 
“I want to try and learn occlumency.”
Ron closed his book and looked at her. “Why?”
“Well, we don’t really know what’s going to happen when we leave for the mission. I’d like to hope for the best, but what happens if we get caught? Or separated? What if our captors try and read our minds to get information because we won’t give it away.”
“They’ll probably torture us instead,” Ron said grimly.
“But still! Shouldn’t we at least try to block our minds? See if we can even do it?” Hermione pressed him.
“Well, sure, maybe, but you’re forgetting one small problem. In order to learn how to shut our minds, we also need to know legilimency. Anyone in the Order who knows is too busy to ask them to do one more thing anyways.”
“I’ve thought about that, too. I have this book that I’ve been reading, that goes into detail about legilimency and occlumency. The theory behind it, how to perform it, and the like.” Hermione stood up and went over to Ron’s bookshelf. 
Ever since arriving a couple weeks ago, she’d sort of taken over a lot of the space in Ron’s already small bedroom. Not that he minded. His bookshelf was always scarce to begin with, so it wasn’t an imposition for her to use the space. He watched her reaching for a book on the top shelf. She was on her tiptoes and her fingertips were barely able to graze the book she wanted.
Rolling his eyes, he got up and grabbed the book for her. “Honestly, woman, are you a witch or not?” his eyes shone as a smirk tugged playfully at his lips. He handed her the book.
“Oh, stop it! That retort is so first year, don’t you think?” Hermione brushed past him and sat on his bed, patting it for him to join her. She opened the book to the theory. “See? So, you would cast legilimens while I tried to empty and clear my mind to block you from seeing anything.”
“So you’re suggesting we practice on each other?”
“Y-yes, I’ve been practicing what Snape told Harry back in fifth year when he was supposed to be learning.” Hermione pretended to be reading through the book.
“...Alright. I suppose you’ve got a point.” Ron got up and shut his door. He locked it and cast silencio so that no one would know what they were up to. He turned to face her. “You’re sure you want to try this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Hermione asked.
“Well, what if I do manage to see inside your mind, and you can’t block it?”
Hermione bit her lip. She hadn’t really thought about that. “Well, we’ve known each other long enough that I’m sure there’s nothing there that you don’t already know.” She hoped her lie was convincing enough. Honestly, if he did see anything there, then maybe that would be easier than actually admitting her feelings to him.
“Okay..are you ready?” Ron held up his wand as she closed her eyes and did her best to clear her mind. “Legilimens!”
For a brief moment, Hermione felt a small tug in her mind, but then nothing happened.
“I told you it wouldn’t work,” she heard Ron say.
“No! I felt something. There was a small tug, as if a door was trying to open into my mind. Ron, I think you were onto something! Try it again, but really mean it!” Hermione urged him on.
Ron was still a bit worried about invading her privacy, but she seemed so serious about this, so he tried again. This time he saw the tiniest flashes of moments in his own mind. It wasn’t enough to decipher what was happening, but he saw a young Hermione outside, and then Hermione in the dress he thought she wore to the Christmas party. The spell fizzled out, and he was back in his room.
“Whoa…” he said. “You okay?” 
She nodded. “Did you see anything?”
“Yeah, but really quick flashes of things.”
“It’s a weird feeling. Like I’m trying to push against you.”
“Do you want to stop?”
“No, try it one more time. Just give me a second to clear my mind again.”
“Okay.” If Ron was being honest with himself, he wanted to see more of that memory from the Christmas party. He used that desire to drive the spell as he cast Legilimens one more time.
Hermione was definitely fighting back this time, but instead of letting her win, he pushed back with the spell. It was as if the spell found the weak spot in her defense, and pried it open. All of a sudden he saw her at the Christmas party again, and she looked miserable. She was hiding from McLaggen, and he watched her leave the party early and enter an empty classroom with tears streaming down her face. She didn’t say anything in the memory, but he heard her thoughts echo in his own brain, ‘What were you thinking? Of course he’s not Ron! No one is.’ He watched her mind wander back to when she’d asked him to go and wondered what went wrong.
Ron broke the charm. “Shit! I’m sorry!” He said, rubbing his eyes, as if trying to erase what he’d just seen.
Hermione was staring blankly at him, her face burning from a mixture of embarrassment and exertion of trying to fight him off. “You….you fought back,” she said faintly.
“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” Ron started to say.
“N-no, you’re right. If it was a death eater, they wouldn’t give up.”
“Do you want to switch?” Ron didn’t necessarily want her prying into his own mind, but at the same time, he felt he owed her as much.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Hermione said.
“It’s fine, really. Reckon you’re right, after all. I should have an idea what it feels like,” Ron admitted.
“Okay, well, try and clear your mind then,” Hermione told him.
Ron shut his eyes and forced himself not to think of anything, which was easier said than done. He heard Hermione say “Legilimens” and felt a weird sensation of pressure on his mind. He found himself saying over and over again, think of nothing, as he tried to keep the door to his mind shut, but he felt her break the wall as he saw himself arguing with Hermione after the Yule Ball. He tried to push her away from it, but he felt Hermione dig in deeper with the charm and more of those memories were revealed. 
He felt the anger and hurt of every time she’d chosen Krum over him when she wrote those letters, saw him try and make up for his stupid jealousy by buying her that perfume for Christmas, as if that was going to make her notice him more than Krum. Then he saw her ask him to Slughorn’s party, followed by the row he had with Ginny a few days after. 
Hermione yelped and broke the charm when she heard Ginny scream, ‘Even Hermione’s snogged Viktor Krum’ and saw Ron sputtering in anger. Her wand fell to the floor as Ron was squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temple. “Bloody hell, Hermione!” He should have known this was a bad idea.
“You...you….” Hermione was having trouble forming words. Ron knew this never ended well for him. “Is that why you iced me out? Why you… I’m going to kill her,” Hermione turned toward the door and made to unlock it when Ron strode over and put his hand on the door.
“No...Hermione, don’t. It’s not her fault,” Ron told her. 
“Yes, it is! Are you joking? She ruined everything!” Hermione tried to push Ron out of the way, but he was too tall and muscular against her small frame to make any difference.
Ron took a deep breath, but held firm. He’d had a lot of time to think about that whole fiasco, and it was time he finally admitted it out loud. “No, Hermione, it was my fault. I’m the one who reacted like a bloody idiot. Sure, I was pissed about it, but I was also hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. I was the only one who didn’t know!”
“So you chose to shut me out instead of confronting me about it?” Hermione questioned.
“Well, yeah, since I always gave you a hard time about Krum, bringing it up wouldn’t have helped anything. Knew that from experience, so I wanted to deal with it on my own.” Ron tried his best to explain it to her so she would understand, but he felt like he was mucking it up.
“But if you had brought it up, then you would have known that I never- well it doesn’t matter now does it,” Hermione said as she gave up trying to leave and walked over to sit on his bed. She put her head in her hands.
“Hermione, I am sorry. I wanted to go to that party with you.” Ron sat down beside her, and reached out for her hand.
“Then why did you snog her?” Hermione looked at him, and all the hurt he’d caused her hit him like a ton of bricks. 
“I- Because she was interested, and wasn’t afraid to show it, I guess. I was only just starting to cool off, and then the whole Felix thing happened, and I just took it as you thought I was rubbish at quidditch and needed a potion to perform well.” Ron couldn’t believe he’d actually admitted that. He supposed she’d already seen everything leading up to it, so he owed her the honesty.
“But-” Hermione tried to say, but Ron cut her off.
“I know,” Ron said. And he did. He knew deep down that she thought he was good at quidditch, but Hermione was never one to outwardly praise anyone. 
“I’m sorry.” Hermione finally said. “I do believe in you, you know.”
“I know that now.” Ron said. “And I’m sorry for not talking to you about it...and rubbing that whole mess of a relationship in your face.”
She looked at him again. “We’re okay, right?”
“Yeah,” Ron offered her a small smile, and against his better judgment, reached his arms around her to pull her in for a hug. To his relief, Hermione hugged him back.
Before she pulled away from him, Hermione said, “Maybe we should leave the occlumency alone after all.”
“Yeah, I’d be okay with that. Wanna see if there’s any leftover biscuits downstairs?” Ron asked, changing the subject.
“Sure,” Hermione said as she closed the book and used magic to place it back up on the top shelf.
65 notes · View notes
itsblissfuloblivion · 4 years
Text
Torch - Chapter 12: August
and, like this, our one year journey ends :) we learned, we grew, we angsted over the lack of canon romantic moments in HBP and yet somehow we pulled it off!
to all of you who've read our fic, thank you! we really hope this was a ride you could enjoy as well! ❤️
with love, @gryffindormischief & @fightfortherightsofhouseelves
AO3 // FFnet
.
For all he’s just celebrated his birthday (and gotten the snog of his life from the girl of his dreams) Harry is admittedly a bit of a grump come August. While he’s certainly glad to be free of the Dursleys for the foreseeable future, there’s none of the building excitement that normally comes with a new year. And every time he sees Ginny it’s a bittersweet feeling.
Pining is one thing, wondering what you could have if you just did something about it; but loss is something else altogether. He knows exactly what it’s like to have the full brunt of Ginny’s sunshine bright smile turned on him, the feeling of her in his arms, and sad as it is to say, he simply tasted what it was like to be happy. And callous as it might sound, he almost forgot the horror of the world for a few short weeks.
So mildly to severely moody Harry skulks about the Burrow like a gloomy spectre in the days leading to Bill and Fleur’s wedding, daydreams filled with running away to chase down Horcruxes rather than the taste of Ginny’s lips on his.
It’s on one such circuit that he wanders into Fred and George’s room, aimless unless avoiding other people counts as a goal, and finds himself confronted with Ginny Weasley half zipped into a golden gown with her hair scooped over one shoulder and her eyes wide and inviting in the mirror.
He sees a slight flush rise on her cheeks but whatever embarrassment she feels is quickly brushed aside - sadly he can’t seem to do the same, palms wet as they are - as she locks eyes with him through the mirror. “You know, I complain about Fleur, but I think I look pretty amazing in this.”
She flicks her eyebrows up playfully when he doesn’t say anything, just watches her stupidly. “Really, I can’t believe Mum has such severe wedding brain that she hasn’t banned me from showing this much of my ti-”
Harry chokes on his tongue.
Ginny winks. “I’ll take your speechlessness as a compliment.”
While he wages an internal battle mainly filled with conflicting thoughts of ‘run away, drown yourself in the toilet’ and ‘sweep her in your arms and let her ravish you like she wanted to yesterday,’ Harry somehow manages to also drum up coherent language and grind it out into audible words. Mostly.
“You - well, I’ll say you’re the best I’ve seen a Weasley look in dress robes.”
Ginny fiddles with the zipper, “Wow, Harry. Flatter a girl. I'll tell you your hair looks better than Aunt Muriel’s, how about?”
Harry can’t keep the laugh from bubbling out of his chest, can’t ignore the pang at how very happy he seems to be when Ginny is around. He ruffles his hair. “Dunno, Gin. I think Muriel’s a fox.”
Absently, perhaps operating on some instinct he can’t control, Harry steps forward and drags the zip up her back, the tiny catches clicking together one by one.
Ginny draws in a sharp breath and her lip seems to tremble in time with the stutter of his heart. Her voice is a bit dry, strangled, when she answers, “Don’t let her hear you say that or you’ll be my great uncle before you turn 18.”
It’s like a heavy weight falls into the pit of Harry’s stomach, seeing Ginny’s eyes shutter, considering how he might not see his next birthday; the minimal hope he has about having Ginny be part of his life in that hazy future.
And even with the gloom that seems to have settled over them in this little moment carved out from the world, Harry can’t help but marvel that someone seems to understand. And not because he’s screamed his lungs out or sulked his way into a sympathetic ear. He can see in her gaze that Ginny feels that darkness looming.
Yet there’s a part of him, perhaps a stupid idealistic part, that thinks she’s still the silver lining. That maybe his hope isn’t completely lost.
Ginny smiles softly and winks. “Don’t worry. I’d rescue you before Muriel whisked you away.”
Harry clears his throat, voice low when he answers, “My hero.”
“Well Gryffindor chivalry and whatnot - you know how it works.”
A laugh rises in his chest, short like Sirius sometimes let out. Harry wonders if it was because Sirius was as surprised as he is now to feel happiness, even just a little. “Of course.”
Ginny quirks her brow. “Perhaps too well.”
Shrugging, Harry ruffles his hair. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”
To his surprise, she doesn’t laugh, doesn’t tease. Instead she steps close enough to cup his jaw, look at him in that way that not too long ago meant her lips would slant on his. Her thumb brushes against his skin gently while she gazes up at him. “Nah, just a blessing,” her smile is a little sad, “Or at least I think so most days.”
And then her lips are on his cheek, so briefly he almost thinks he imagined it. She doesn’t linger, flitting away like the summer breeze while he stares after her, feeling a bit like she’s taken his heart with her.
***
It is exactly three o’clock in the afternoon on August 1st and Harry is queueing up in front of the great wedding marquee, wearing another man’s appearance and a very heavy heart.
Even in his sleep, images he’d crafted of him and Ginny happily dancing at Bill and Fleur’s wedding keep creeping up, haunting him viciously. He doesn’t even know how to dance, a smidge of reality that makes all his pining and moaning after ‘what it could’ve been’ all the more ridiculous.
Fortunately, his angsting and brooding time is quickly cut short when gaggles upon gaggles of guests arrive and Harry jumps to show them to their seats, the twin image of Molly Weasley and Fleur mentally prodding him to move faster and get to it.
Harry’s in over his head and practically sweating by the time the last guest is comfortably seated and he can finally enjoy some good Weasley humour and a seat of his own. The laughter is bubbling out of their little party as they listen to Fred and George swap family anecdotes, Ron is pleasantly engrossed in Hermione’s presence, and Harry doesn’t feel all that lonely - which, to his mind, is the real success of the day.
Just as he’s beginning to relax, the music plays and in walks Ginny with his soul, heart and mind, glowing like the sun in her golden dress, long red hair cascading down her shoulders in a way that has Harry almost springing from his seat to touch it, caress it, feel its flowery scent. His gut wrenches.
Old Aunt Muriel comments on the amount of cleavage she’s revealing and Ginny briefly winks at him, which really doesn’t do anything to ease Harry’s situation but rather drops a whole new kind of problem on him than his sad, aching heart.
Harry subtly shifts in his chair to hide his current situation and simultaneously thanks the heavens for Ron’s smitten expression, blue eyes glued only to Hermione, and parlays with his little buddy to go back, sit down.
“Come on, mate, you’re not invited to this wedding,” Harry grumbles under his breath, willing his eyes to stay away from Ginny and, quite frankly, focus on literally anything else.
But if they were still together and if Voldemort wasn’t a looming threat and if there wasn’t a war tumbling over their lives - if, if, if, then Harry would’ve asked her to dance and he would’ve felt her body press into his and he would’ve whispered into her ear, tell her how incredibly beautiful she looks, what she does to him, how she has bewitched his mind. And maybe, maybe, maybe - ah, maybe later they would’ve stumbled into her room or possibly somewhere at the back of the orchard, hidden by a copse of trees and the darkness of the night, and maybe, maybe, maybe - ah, maybe then they would’ve taken that mind-numbingly brilliant snog further, so much further until all barriers would simply disappear between them, bodies melting into each other until they become one.
“Oh, isn’t it simply beautiful?” Hermione sniffles next to him and Harry jerks out of his daydream.
“Yeah...brilliant,” he sighs and lets his eyes travel over Ginny once more before he rips his gaze away, numbing his mind to drift to a blank space, to complete nothingness until the ceremony is over.
Later, Harry watches her dance with Lee Jordan, unable to not notice the many pairs of eyes staring. The old chest monster roars, enraged.
He’s got no claim over her but somehow - somehow he can’t fight the anger, the utter jealousy that burns out of him whenever someone touches her or ogles her or even talks to her, eyes lingering a second too long on her radiant face.
He’s got no claim, Harry knows, but it’s only him who’s ever counted all the freckles on her smiling face, it’s only him who’s ever held her, skin touching skin on their misery filled chests, it’s only him who’s ever really loved her.
And there it is: he loves her, of course he does. Of course he does, the miserable sod.
Harry’s one step closer to drowning himself or just getting spectacularly drunk when Viktor Krum, of all people, voices his intentions of charming Ginny and Harry immediately finds Ron’s beheading of his Krum miniature acceptable. Harry himself is ready to behead the real thing actually and he considers it in everyone’s good fortune when Krum quickly gives up.
“Something wrong, Harry?” Bill quirks an eyebrow at him as they bump into each other on the corridor to the men’s room.
“No, it’s great, brilliant actually,” Harry hurries to chime in with a tad too much enthusiasm to sound natural. Some days he wonders why he even tries, it’s not like he can fool any of those people. They’ve witnessed his awkward teenage phase, goddammit.
Bill studies him for a heartbeat before he sighs, hand unconsciously flying to arrange his ponytail. “Are you about to drag her into whatever it is that you’re planning?”
Harry’s heart sinks.
“I’m assuming that’s a no,” Bill grins a bit before his brows furrow once more. “So it’s just my brother, then?”
“Look, I’ve told him and Hermione to stay here -” Harry starts, tone rapidly drifting up into anger, but Bill’s hand is on his shoulder and it’s squeezing him in a sort of calming yet firm way.
“Harry, shush. No one’s blaming you for anything. Just be careful. And Harry?”
Harry’s emerald eyes rise to look into Bill’s stern, scarred face.
“First you win the war, then you come back to her.”
And just like that, Bill turns on his heels to walk right back into his wife’s warm arms while he, Harry, stares after him, all remaining bits of hope cracking in Bill’s wake.
But then everything happens very fast and Harry cannot ponder on Bill’s words, cannot obsess over them, over their meaning. Win the war? Come back to her? Will she be waiting? Why would she be waiting, she has so much life to live. Why? His thoughts revolve around, frantic.
Everything happens very fast.
Grindelwald.
Dumbledore.
Horcruxes.
Ginny dancing with somebody else.
Ginny watching him over her freckled shoulder, brown eyes sad as they linger on his face.
Ginny wrenching herself out of someone else’s arms, quickly disappearing in the dark.
Harry’s heart breaking.
Kingley’s Patronus.
And the Ministry is falling.
The Ministry is falling.
THE MINISTRY IS FALLING.
Harry grabs Ron and Hermione, alarms ringing deafeningly in his ears. It’s the war, it’s started, it’s really started this time.
Be safe, be safe, be safe, he whimpers as the three of them spin and spin and spin until they reach the Forest of Dean and nothing else matters anymore. It’s a war and they’re just soldiers and they’re here to fight.
And Harry plans to fight, until his final breath, until his last struggling heartbeat, until he knows that they are safe and Ginny’s safe and the entire world is safe. He steels his resolve and gets to work. There’s so, so very much to be done.
...Nine more months would have to pass before Harry’d finally be able to hold Ginny again.
107 notes · View notes
weasleymalfoypotter · 3 years
Text
i hate you (but not really) pt6
masterlist
summary : summary: draco malfoy and harry potters twin sister have hated each other since they met. but in 5th year he comes to find that maybe he doesn’t hate her and the reasons he did end up be the things he loves
word count : 2.6k
warnings : mentions of abuse, fluff, angst, ron and hermione being in the outs which is a whole warning
A/N : sorry this out so late i’ve been so busy and i’m on this retreat but i’m so excited to get this part out and thank you so much for all the love on this series and we’re at 50 followers and i want to cry omg also if there are spelling mistakes i’m sorry
Tumblr media
“hey princess” draco said while kissing the crown of my head before sitting down in the seat next to me in the back of the library. princess is still his favorite nick name for him a year after he called me that for the first time. i swear he says it 100 times a day. i’m not complaining.
“helloooo” i said smiling at him as he sat down.
“how was today? i heard snape gave you a hard time”
“oh you know the usual. he likes to remind harry and i that we’re not as important as the rest of the wizarding world thinks we are” i said light heartedly with a smile. snape actually used to be fond of me. i asked him why in my third year because he hated my brother so much and he explained by saying i reminded him of my mother. it was a soft side to snape that no one thought existed. all he said was that he knew her in their years at hogwarts but after harry told me about the memory he saw in the pensive i knew there was more to it. that was the same time he started giving me a harder time, treating me like the rest of the gryffindors, if not worse. i confronted him after class one day after he made a comment about harry and i, and he said i was becoming more like my father as i grew up. that’s what remus and sirius would tell me too. they said harry and i looked just like james, except for the eyes, but personality wise, he was all lily and i was all james. i stormed out of his class after that and any kind of friendship or comfort i found in that class dissipated and his past kindness became an afterthought.
draco and i spent the rest of the day in the library studying before we went to dinner. he still sat at the slytherin table during meals and i spent the time with harry and my best friends. although, today i’m sitting with just hermione so she’s not alone because harry sits with ron and hermione and ron are on the outs...again. it hasn’t happened a lot but it’s always about the same thing and they can’t even realize it. i wish they’d just get together already because i don’t know how much more “won won!!” i can take from lavender without punching her square in the jaw. and she really doesn’t like me. i think she doesn’t like any girl at hogwarts, as if they all pose a threat to her and won won’s relationship.
hermione looked down the table to see her leg on his lap while her hands moved up and down ron’s arm. he looked irritated. hermione chuckled loud enough so only i could hear.
“it’s funny that he picks the girl who doesn’t know not to mess with him while he’s eating” i laugh.
“the whole thing is ridiculous. i swear he can’t stand her anymore, it won’t last long, she’s way too clingy and they don’t mix well at all” she chuckled but i can tell it still hurts. “hey listen, he’s an idiot. one day he’ll realize how stupid he is and it’ll be him pining” she gave a half hearted smile. the whole thing has been hard for her. i hate to see her cry so much.
“yeah yeah, i just- i don’t know. i just can’t do this anymore.”
i nod along while she rants for the rest of dinner before we have to leave. afterwards she heads to the library and i head to the gryffindor common room for scheduled harry and ron time. it’s hard keeping up with school work, quidditch, prefect duties, and all my friends that can’t be around each other. i have to managed to spend time with draco away from harry and ron and hermione, but also spend time with hermione away from with harry and ron, and i also have to spend time with harry and ron without hermione or draco or lavender. it’s a mess. so now we’ve subconsciously gotten into a schedule. during breakfast i sit with draco and harry sits with hermione and ron is with lavender, if i’m in a class with gryffindors i sit with hermione, when i’m in a class without them, i sit with draco, at lunch i sit with harry and ron while hermione sits with ginny, during breaks i bounce between each of them depending on the day and whether or not i have quidditch, and before dinner i’m in the library with draco, during dinner i sit with hermione, and afterwards i hang out with harry and ron, and after that it’s cuddling with draco. it’s exhausting. not the cuddling part, that’s pretty great. everything else is just so confusing and it doesn’t give me a second to breath until the end of the night. but if i’m being honest, everything distracts me from thinking about sirius or cedric or anything along those lines. so i’m not really complaining.
i’m plopped down on the couch on the verge of passing out while ron and harry talk about harry’s potions book. i’m complete zoned out until ron asks
“hey, you guys are coming for christmas right?” i totally forgot christmas existed. it was only a few days before break and i had no idea we were invited to the burrow.
“are we? i didn’t know that was an option” harry said. he looked at me as if asking if i was up for it or not. of course i was.
“well yeah of course, mom wants to give you guys the sweaters in person this year” ron said excitedly.
“i’m totally down, is charlie gonna be there? i wanna hear about the dragons” i say the last part with so much joy. i loved charlie. he was so cool. honestly i think i just loved the dragons but same thing. charlie and i always talked forever about his work whenever i was with his family.
“i’m not sure if he’s coming or not, but either way you’re going to be there, you don’t have a choice” ron said.
“that’s true. molly might just hunt us down if we don’t show up” harry said. ron nodding along pursing his lips. he didn’t lie.
-
i totally forgot to tell draco that i was going to be at the weasleys for christmas until today which is the day before we leave. we’re sitting cross crossed on my bed across from each other, hands tangling with each other’s, and talking about our day.
“okay so should i leave your christmas present here and spell so you can’t open it until the day of, or should we wait, or open them now, or...?” draco rambled.
“well i’m not gonna be here on christmas, harry and i are going to the burrrow” i said. his face showed his confusion and i remembered i forgot to tell him.
“since when? not complaining, it’s better than you being here by yourself but i’m positive fred has always had a crush on you” he said with a laugh.
“okay one, since the other day, and two, fred does not and has never had a crush on me” i said laughing at the thought of me and fred. he was like my big brother.
“okay okay but if he gets handsy i will hex him into oblivion and lace his apartment with his own products” he said faking seriousness
“fred will not get handsy, i promise” i replied with a huge smile on my face. i don’t think fred has ever gotten handsy with me.
“alright well, i guess we could do presents now” he said with a very excited expression. i nodded excitedly. i was so unbelievably excited for him to see what i made him. that’s right. made. i spent forever on it trying to get every detail right but i managed to figure it out. with the help of astronomy records i found an image of what the sky looked like the night we had our first kiss in the astronomy tower. i enlisted the help of flitwick and told him it was for a personal project to figure out the charms to put the pattern from stars from that night on a ring. it looks so damn cool, i honestly want it for myself. after a few moments of getting situated, we were sitting across from each other with the others presents in our hands.
“okay you first?” i smiled and handed him his present. it was wrapped carefully in a small package.
“open it” i said softly while he looked at me with a questioning look. he took of the paper and opened the box on its hinges. his face lit up and he didn’t even know what it really was yet.
“oh wow” he said while eyeing it “this is beautiful”
“wanna know something?” he looked up at me “you see the stars on it?” he nodded “that’s what the stars looked like on the night of our first kiss” i said with a huge smile and his face dropped...but in a good way.
“you’re kidding” his eyes backs glossy
“nope” i said with a smile. he immediately slipped it onto his left ring finger. he then leaned in to kiss me. i smiled as we pulled away. points to me for the really awesome gift.
“okay okay time for your gift because if i look at this any longer right now i will cry” i eyed him jokingly “okay maybe not cry but you get the idea” he handed me the box as i laughed. it was small, almost the same size as the one i gave him. i opened it to find a small black velvet ring box. huh. when i opened the box on its hinges i gasped. a gorgeous emerald pear cut ring with small diamonds surrounding the green stone with a silver band. it was gorgeous. tasteful, classy, simple yet fancy. i was crying and i didn’t know it until his hand was on my cheek wiping away tears.
“you kind of beat me to the ring idea but i still think i scored” he was smiling so wide. a put it on my left ring finger and i jumped over to kiss him as he pulled me into his lap.
“i love you so much. i need you to know that” he said looking up at me after we broke away
“i do. and i love you too. more than you know” i replied, nudging his nose with mine.
-
christmas break at the burrow so far has been just as amazing as i expected. hermione wasn’t there obviously, but i still got to hang out and room with ginny and we were having a blast. quidditch games with the twins were fun because this time i was on their team which was definitely refreshing. they were way too damn good, and just because we were friends when they were on the gryffindor team doesn’t mean they’d go easy on me. quite the opposite actually. in third year i was in the hospital for two days after a really rough bludger from fred knocked me unconscious after hitting me in the head and taking me off my broom. he felt bad but it still hurt like hell.
it’s christmas eve and we were all in the living room cuddled up with tea and coa coa talking about fred and george’s shop and school and everything except the order and or voldemort until a knock came from the door. it was late so the room was full of confused faces while arthur and molly got up to get the door.
“oh goodness draco what happened?” i heard arthur say. i immediately sat up and everyone’s attention was glued to the interaction at the door.
“i’m so sorry Mr. Weasley, i- uh- i just, i didn’t have anywhere else to go” a voice i recognized all to well trailed off. i got up quickly making my way to the door to see a concerned molly standing next to a confused arthur with his hand on a bruised draco with a bloodied lip. my heart sunk and they all looked at me.
“oh my God draco what happened?” i said while closing the space between us and putting a hand up to the bruises on his face. he stuttered and molly looked around to find everyone zeroing in on the conversation.
“let’s go into the kitchen dears, i’ll make some tea for you draco and get you some ice and something for the bruises and your lip” draco nodded while we moved to sit in the kitchen. i could faintly hear molly telling everyone else to mind their own and we’ll let them know what was going on if we felt like it.
“draco what the hell happened to you?” arthur was waiting to hear the answer to my question while draco tried not to meet my eyes.
“m- my dad. he um, he found out about us. he told me that i could either be a true malfoy and follow in his footsteps and leave you or not be a part of the family at all. i told him i wouldn’t do it. i told him i wasn’t going to work for you know who and that you were my family now. that’s when he did this” he said gesturing to his face. my heart hurt. this was my fault. i knew it was better for him to be out of that house and not working for voldemort but i can’t help but think that the pain was because of me.
“draco i’m so sorry” i said with tears running down my face while squeezing his hand.
“well y/n isn’t your only family now son” arthur looked up at molly who seemed to have been around the hear the whole thing. she nodded. at him “there’s space in ron and harry’s room, if you’d like to stay with us. we’d love nothing more than to have you hear draco” draco was crying now. he’d been trying to hold it in. but hearing these words come from a father, hearing loving words, was his breaking point.
“i’m so sorry. for everything my family has done, for everything i’ve done. i- i- i could never truly tell you how much i loathe what my family is” draco said to arthur. “i’m sorry i showed up here so late i know i shouldn’t have i just, i had no where else to go” he looked down. molly came behind him and ran her hands on his shoulders.
“nonsense draco. we know you’ve changed, we’ve heard all about it” she said smiling “y/n is our family and that makes you family too”
the rest of break was actually great. it was cramped but i wasn’t upset about it. draco was feeling so much better after being around a loving family for once. he and harry and ron were actually getting along so well it was scary. i would actually say their friends considering he’s been spending more time with them than me. i actually saw them laughing together once. it was weird. but honestly i couldn’t have been happier to have him here. he was able to give the order information about voldemort and his connections to certain families and their plans. no one thought draco heard as much as he did but his information was valuable.
the rest of the school year was perfect. everyone was getting along, draco was out of his house, the rings on our fingers were a representation of hope for the two of us, and i knew this was the boy i would spend the rest of my life with.
TAGS: @idkmanicantenglish @dracoswhore007 @lordlodge
18 notes · View notes
paradisewithinpain · 4 years
Text
How They Respond to "I'm Fine"
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆●☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
⚡Harry⚡:
Not even gonna lie, this boy can be OBLIVIOUS
can tell something's wrong but won't push it once you say you're fine
(he doesn't like it when you snap at him)
ANYWAY
he eventually forgets about it and carries on with life
but after a while, he starts to see you're progressively getting worse
and every time he asks about it?
"i'M fiNE"
he starts to get worried and will think he's doing something wrong
poor boy
asks you to meet him in the astronomy tower
the two just sit in silence before he starts apologizing
you stare at him
"the fuck are you on about?"
he explains he's seen your behavior and how he thinks it's his fault
you stare at him for a minute then you start laughing
HARD
poor boy is over here like 👁👄👁
when you calm down you explain what's been going on
he just listens to you rant for a solid 20 minutes
he's just nodding along, agreeing when needed
when you're done, you feel as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders
you kissed and thanked him before leaving
harry has no idea what he did but he's glad it worked
♟Ron♟:
LEMME TELL YOU
if there's anyone more oblivious than harry
IT'S THIS BOY RIGHT HERE
probably wouldn't even notice until Hermione or Ginny or sOMeONe wHO iSN'T oBLiViOUs points it out to him
then it all clicks
the distance
the quietness
the fake smiles
it hits him like a tRUCK
he doesn't know what to do at first
then it hits him
what is it that you both love with a passion?
FOOD
asks you to meet him outside your common room
shows up with the invisibility cloak and he leads you to the kitchen
you find a small picnic like space in front of the fireplace with all your favorite snacks
even the ones you adore but he finds absolutely repulsive
you throw your arms around him, a small thank you slipping past your lips
the two of you talk and eat till morning
when breakfast comes, the house elves find you curled up against each other, asleep
📚Hermione📚:
y'all
this girl is probably the only reasonable one
she'll figure it out pretty fast but she'll drop hints that she's knows something's up
SHE WANTS YOU TO COME TO HER
IS PATIENT AS FUCK
when you finally do come to her, it's in a secluded corner of the library
she's doing the extra extra credit
you find her and sit in front of her
THIS GIRL PUTS DOWN HER QULL SO FAST
she tries not to show it but she's freaking out on the inside
you start off with apologizing for your distance and she brushes it off, telling you it's ok
it's silent for a minute
then you RANT
she just sits and listens to your problems
and when your done, she offers reasonable solutions
best girlfriend honestly
🌵Neville🌵:
BABY
BOY
ok
sorry
this boy (like Hermione) would probably pick it up pretty quickly
BUT HE WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO
this boy will straight up get frustrated about what to do
should he get you a gift?
but what if you dont like it?
should he ask if you want to talk about it?
but what if you dont want to?
HE'S SCARED
you would notice he becomes very on edge around you
you confront him about it and this boy just spills
your heart swells as he explains that he wanted to do something but didn't want to upset you further
🤧
you start explaining what's going on and he understands completely
the two of you just start talking and end up having a mini therapy session
I HAVE THIS IDEA THAT NEVILLE GIVES REALLY GOOD ADVICE
when you peck his cheek and tell him you would like to do this again sometime, he gets all flustered again
🦁Ginny🦁:
It doesn't matter who you are
YOU CAN'T LIE TO THIS GIRL
"Ginny, I'm fine-"
"I SMELL CAP"
literally will not take any of it
it doesn't matter how many times you tell her
SHE
WON'T
LISTEN
she's not gonna push you but she certainly will not put up with the crap you're giving her
you end up ranting to her after a quidditch match
gryffindor had won against slytherin and of course there was a party
you obviously wanted no part but you let your friends drag you to the gryffindor common room
you sat quietly in the corner until Ginny came and took your hands
you expected her to lead you to the dance floor
but instead she led you to her dorm
she sat you down on the bed and took your hands in hers
"talk to me, (Y/N)"
YOU WERE BOARDER LINE SIMPING FOR THIS WOMAN
but you stayed strong and explained everything
she just listened and rubbed her thumb against your hand
I'M SIMPING FOR SOFT GINNY
when you finished, she smiled and laid with you, pressing soft kisses on your temple
you cuddle till the sun came up
🎆Fred🎆:
I have a mighty fine feeling that this boy is just as stubborn as his sister
"Fred, I'm fine"
"And I'm Filch's favorite student"
thankfully for you, he let up on his pranks so he could spend time with you (much to George's dismay)
he's also really good at making you laugh
it doesn't even have to be a prank
he'll just say or do something stupid and no matter how mad or upset you are
this boy never fails to make you smile
but despite his dorky demeanor
he is SOFT
he took you out to the quidditch pitch one evening to watch the sunset
cliche
i know
BUT YOU LOVE IT
you had been doing slightly better due to Fred's constant jokes
but he was not about to let you go by without explaining what got you so down
he casually brought it up and you knew there was no running away from it now
when you told him about what was bothering you, he cracked the occasional joke but never really tried to derail the conversation
when you finished, he took you in his arms and told you how much he loved you as he pressed soft kisses to your neck
you swore you had never simped harder in your life
🧨George🧨:
this little mastermind
so I have this idea that fred is the one who comes up with the ideas for the pranks but george is one who kinda puts it together
ANYWAY
he'd come up with some weird elaborate plan to make you feel better
it'd probably involve multiple parts and A LOT of glitter
but in the end, you watched in awe as glitter danced around you
(if you don't like glitter it'd probably be water or smth)
you immediately knew George was behind it and you followed the trail of glitter or water
it led you to a hidden passageway and at the end of the tunnel it was no surprise you found George waiting for you
you laughed at his glitter/water covered appearance and helped him clean up
only to get some on you as well
it eventually turned into a full blown war with glitter/water bombs being thrown at every turn
in the end, you two laid out of breath by the shrieking shack
"so are you going to tell me what's been going on or do I have to go commando on your arse again?"
you laughed but explained yourself in the end
just like his twin, George threw in a joke or two but never drew any attention away from what you were saying
when you finished ranting, George took your hand in his and kissed it, making eye contact with you the whole time
"you're a badass, you know that?"
🍏Draco🍏:
ANOTHER PERSON WHO
DOES
NOT
TAKE
SHIT
like
I'm pretty sure the only reason he caught on so fast is because he does the same thing
ALL
THE
TIME
"(Y/N), are you ok?"
"I'm fine-"
he was dragging you to the room of requirement before you could even finish your sentence
when he opened the doors, you gaped in awe at the small bedroom that lay before you
he led you to the bed and sat your ass down
"Spill"
you tried to convince him you were okay but he still wasn't having it
he even pulled his iconic, "my father will hear about this" line
"dray, your father doesn't give two shits about me."
"Mum does. And you know she'd haul your ass faster than I could"
you knew there was no getting out of this
as you explained your troubles, draco's demeanor kept shifting
when you talked about someone getting on your nerves, he looked ready to murder
when you talked about how little sleep you were going, he went all soft
when you finished, he held out his arms for you
you knew how much Draco despised physical contact sometimes so this was a huge win for you
as you laid together, you felt a small kiss fall upon your head
"If you ever feel like this again, let me know, okay?"
"Just as long as you don't beat anyone up."
"..."
🐍Blaise🐍:
Sarcastic little shit
I love him
ANYWAY
this boy is SO OBSERVANT
you literally can't get anything past him
so it's really no surprise to you when he calls you out on how you're acting
you brush him off but this boy is so ambitious
he watches closely how you wince when someone is too loud or how often your eyelids droop
so because of his dedication to you, he comes up with a brilliant plan
it starts out with you meeting him after classes are done for the week
he takes you to the library where you finish up your homework for the weekend (he gives most of the answers)
when you're done, he leads you back to your common room and tell you he has a suprise for you tomorrow
when breakfast comes around, a letter is dropped in front of you and your smile grew as you read the familiar handwriting
Following the instructions in the letter, you came down to lunch dressed up slightly
during the midday meal, Blaise is no where to be seen
but before you can look for him, Malfoy approaches you and leads you to the great lake
you jaw drops as you take in the small picnic set up before you
Malfoy leaves as Blaise appears out of nowhere in a nice black button down and black slacks
he leads you to the blanket set out and hands your flowers
"(Y/N), you know I'm not good with emotions but I wanted to show you that I cared. I might now be able to understand but I can still listen."
so that's what he did
he listened to you talk for almost an hour as you went from ranting about your troubles to rambling about your favorite things
you somehow found yourself with your head in his lap, hands waving around as you explained the way airplanes worked
he just sat, admiring you
and he just listened
🦡Cedric🦡:
He lives because I said so
ANYWAY
this boy is literally one of the softest human beings on the earth
you better believe he can see right through your little charade
so what does he do?
he does ever little thing that's ever made you happy
doesn't matter how big or small
he's just looking to make you smile
because it hurts his heart to see you upset
will literally show up outside your class with one of your favorite snacks in his hands
or will hand you your essay completely finished so you can spend time sleeping instead of writing
doesn't matter what it is
this boy LIVES for you
so one day you're having a particularly rough day and you find yourself waiting outside Cedric's class
when he spots you, he immediately ditches his friends and makes his way over to you
the bags under your eyes are evident and anyone could tell from a mile away that your literally on the verge of exhaustion
Cedric takes your hands and leads you to the prefects' bathroom
he leaves you to do your thing, promising he'd be there when you finished
when you were done, the two of you made your way to his dorm and you laid together
you started talking out of the blue and Cedric being the admiral man he is
listened
when you finished ranting, you realized you had gotten up and started pacing about halfway through
you groaned and put your face in your hands as you sat back down
Cedric was not having it
he pried your hands of your face and littered it in kisses instead, a message of encouragement in between each one
you're so kind
kiss
you're smart
kiss
you're crazy good at transfiguration
kiss
you make me happy
kiss
I love you
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆●☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
74 notes · View notes
cauliflowercounty · 4 years
Text
Weasley vs Weasley Pt. I (Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader) [Tumblr Remaster]
Blood Status:  Half-Blood or Pureblood 
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N:  Weasley vs. Weasley was a series of imagines I originally posted on my Wattpad.  It’s one of my favorite series of imagines I’ve made, but I wrote it years ago; I wanted to make an updated version with a few new twists and in second person instead of third.  I’ll be releasing it in multiple parts :)  Enjoy!
You are the Molly and Arthur Weasley’s adopted daughter and in the same year as Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Not proofread, it’s 1:30am when I’m writing this!  Woohoo! Enjoy!
----
The compartment sways gently side to side as the Hogwarts Express barrels down the Scottish countryside train rack.  You sit silently in the train car scrunched in between Harry and the wall. Ron and Hermione sit across from you.  Hermione, of course, has her nose in a book while Ron sits awkwardly, thinking of how to make conversation since the initial excitement of getting on the train has worn off.  As you feel the train turn the corner, the twins knock gently on the glass of the door and slide it open, giving everyone a wave while shoving themselves in between Hermione and Ron.  Ron lets out an audible grumble as Fred pushes his brother into the window.
“Hello, everyone,” Fred and George say in unison.  
“Lee’s off trying to persuade some second years to be our test subjects for some prototype sweets,” Fred says, smirking.
“Yeah, our initial line was brilliant, but we’re expanding our offerings. It’s what the student body deserves,” George adds on.
“We’re also thinking of firecrackers,” Fred continues.  “We’ll charm them to make shapes.  Maybe a Chinese Fireball?  What do you say, y/n?”
“That sounds brilliant, Freddie.  You should write it down before you forget,” you smile, knowing their products have been a much-anticipated aspect of their lives lately.  “You wouldn’t want to deprive the public of some much-needed mayhem causing items.”
“While we love mayhem, we’re also thinking of selling some seriously useful items.  We’re thinking of importing some items from Peru that will help with being sneaky.  Maybe also some muggle magic that people can use casually.  We also want to be practical.  Not everything will explode,” George smiles, thinking of how all their products and dreams will be soon realized.  
“But wouldn’t that be brilliant if everything did explode?” Fred laughs. “Also love potions will be sold at our shops.”
“Did I hear someone say love potions?” Ginny says, poking her head in through the door.  “Is that one of the products you two are cooking up?”
“Well, dear sister, we’re not brewing them.  We’ll buy them from someone who’s gotten into N.E.W.T. level potions unlike us two,” Fred chuckles.  “We don’t want to be liable for disastrous love potions because I’m sure they’ll be popular.”
“Our sisters won’t need them, though.  It’s for the more desperate general public.  They’ll have no problem finding a special someone,” George says encouragingly, shooting his two younger sisters a smile. With his words, your chest tenses, the someone you’d like to have as your special someone coming to mind. Fred and George notice your reaction immediately. They look over to you and notices how you’re clutching the hem of your jacket roughly.
“What’s with that reaction, y/n?” Ron asks, picking up on what the twins are noticing.  Internally, your nerves jump. Hopefully they can’t tell who you’re thinking of.  
“Nothing, Ronald,” you say almost too quickly. “I was just thinking of a dream I had about school the other night.  I failed all my O.W.L.s.  I’m just suffering from residual anxiety.”
“I find that hard to believe, y/n,” Fred smiles.  “You don’t have stress dreams like that and you suddenly got tense when we started talking about love and special someones.”
“Do you have someone you’re hiding?” George asks, leaning in to look you in the eye with Fred.  They bore into your eyes, inquisitive and intense.  
“... or got anyone you fancy?” they say in synchronicity. “Come on… Tell us.” 
Hermione and Harry look up from what they were doing, now completely invested in the new development.
“N-no…,” you trail off.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  You’d think badly of me.”
“We could never,” Ron butts in.  They all lean closer to you, putting on the peer pressure. Fred and George suddenly tackle you, starting to clobber and tickle you.  Hedwig and Pigwidgeon both hoot in protest at the sudden disturbance to their mostly peaceful journey.  You struggle against the twins’ grips.
“Fred!  George!  Come on!” you shout protest, half laughing.  You try to dash between them, but they’re too fast and lock you between them in a tight full-body hold.  You squirm in their grasp but to no avail.  “Fred.  George.  Let go.  Please?”
“Not until you tell us,” they say in a sing-songy voice. You sigh.  This is what you get when you have so many siblings: inescapable, coercive hugs.  
“You’ll regret asking once I tell you,” you say.  They shake their heads.
“Not a chance,” they say back.
“It’s…,” you start, hesitating.  This’ll ruin you. You open your mouth and whisper, “it’s… Malfoy...”
“DID YOU JUST SAY ‘MALFOY?’” everyone in the compartment gasps in unison as the twins drop you. 
“I told you you’d regret it,” you grumble to everyone. “Happy?”
“Not really,” Fred responds cheekily.
“Why?” Ron asks, feeling bewildered and utterly betrayed. 
“I-I don’t know… I just know he it’s what he seems. I saw him one time a while ago… His owl was hurt and he was bandaging its foot. He seemed to care for it so much. There have been a lot of little things,” you explain, realizing it’s sort of hopeless as everyone stares at you, disgusted.
“Little things count for nothing,” Ron scoffs, roiling usinehes and propping his head up on a clenched fist
“It just grew. I don’t have a good reason. I’m sure it’ll fade,” you defend, “but I think that in the end, Malfoy may not be as bad as everyone makes him out to be. I’m sure we’d all have turned out like Malfoy if we had Lucius as a father.”
“But everything he stands for is so vile,” Harry says, infuriated. “I can’t believe it…”
“And what about all the stuff he’s done to Hermione?” Ron adds on.
“Come on. Now you’re ridiculing me. You walked into this one,” you quip back. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you absolutely had to know.”
“Dad’s head is going to blow off,” Fred comments, taking a seat once again.
“Percy’s also going to be furious… You know how protective he is over y/n...,” George adds, everyone nodding in agreement. Ginny, flustered, turns around and leaves the compartment in a huff. 
“Is it okay if we don’t talk about this again?” you ask shyly. “I’m sure it’ll pass. This Malfoy thing is temporary. It’s stupid.”
Hermione and Harry nod in agreement, but Fred and George notice a look in your eye as you gaze out the window. They know you. They know that you lied just now. It’s not temporary.
~
As soon as it came, autumn went and turned into soft blankets of snow. You smile as you look out of your dorm room in Gryffindor tower, the icicles hanging down in front of the panes of glass. It’s been months since the awkward mishap in the Hogwarts Express. Nobody’s said a word since and things have been normal for the most part, but Ginny hasn’t looked at you the same and you’ve noticed the twins whispering to each other in low voices and suddenly stopping once they notice you. Each time, you’ve shrugged it off, assuming it’s about a prank, but a prank never came. 
Today, you head out of Gryffindor tower with plans to go get a book from the library to read at breakfast and then go to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer. After getting dressed, you slip through the portrait hole and head towards the library. As you round the corner on your way, you crash into someone else.
“Oh!” you exclaim. “Sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t looking where I was going…”
Looking up, you realize you just walked staring into Draco Malfoy, and your throat goes dry with nervousness and embarrassment. 
“Uhh… Sorry, Malfoy,” you say lowly, attempting to duck to the side of him and forget that even happened. You weren’t in the mood for a nasty one on one confrontation with Draco Malfoy today.
“Wait!” you hear him say from behind you. You turn around to look at him as he walks closer.
“What are you doing? Are you going to insult me for being a clumsy lowlife?” you ask, your heart sinking. He’d never say anything nice, not in a million years no matter how much you wanted him to. “That’s what my siblings and I are used to.  I wouldn’t be surprised. After all, poor people like us don’t have manners. We weren’t raised right.”
“Is that really what you think of me?” Draco asks a bit too softly, his steely grey eyes looking right into yours. You back up a step, not expecting him to look at you directly and not be shouting in your face. This is new and unexpected, but it’s what you’ve wanted for a long time.
“Well… I’ve come to anticipate it,” you reply honestly. 
“That’s too bad,” Draco replies. “I’ve got a lot to learn I guess…”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ll tell you if you come to Hogsmeade with me,” Draco smiles. “Will you come with me?”
“Now?” you ask. “I’ven’t had breakfast yet.”
“We can get it there,” he shrugs. 
“Why do you want to take me to Hogsmeade?  You’re Draco Malfoy. I’m y/n Weasley.”
“All your questions will be answered there, y/n. I just want to talk to you. Do you trust me?”
Hesitantly, you nod. He holds out his arm and you take it. He leads you down to the courtyard and towards the carriages to Hogsmeade. None of them have left yet, and you both climb into the first one and then you’re off.
You both hop off in the village and go striaight to the Three Broomsticks. Draco holds the door for you and lets you sit down in the booth and get comfortable first. Madam Rosmerta comes and takes your order: two butterbeers and some food for breakfast. He smiles at you from across the table as you take a sip of the mug of butterbeer, thanking him quietly for paying. He clears his throat.
“So…” he smiles.
“So…” you say back. “Will you answer my questions?”
“Of course,” Draco replies. “I got a small note in my bag the other day. I don’t know who it’s from. It just appeared all of a sudden. It just said ‘Tell y/n the truth. Go for it, Malfoy.’ That’s all. You’re probably wondering why that brings us here. Truth is… I’ve liked you for a while now, y/n.  I just needed some encouragement to say something.  I’ve been so caught up with what my father wants for me for the past few years that I forgot to think about what I want to do with my life. I’ve fancied you for a while. I reckon it wasn’t obvious because of how I’ve treated you. I was just so, so obsessed with being like my father and I was confused. I needed to sort out my priorities. I’ve done some thinking lately and it’s time to make a change. That’s why I said ‘I have a lot to learn’ because I do. I just wanted to tell you the truth. I’m done being so unpleasant toward you and your family.”
Your mouth hangs completely wide open. You didn’t expect this. This might even be a dream. Draco Malfoy saying he was confused? And he’s making a change? No. You always thought that Draco would be cold and indifferent towards you for the rest of your years at Hogwarts, you’d graduate and then forget about him, settling for another person, but no. He just confessed to fancying you. 
“Y/n? Please say something? I’m going out on a limb here. I’ve never been this vulnerable in my life… I know it’ll take a long time to unlearn my bad habits, and I know that not all people are willing to be that patient with someone, but I’ve known you for years. We’ve been in the same classes. You’re kind and considerate and easygoing with people. You’re compassionate and when you laugh you make me want to smile. I understand if history is against me and it’s alright if you reject me here and now, but… I just wanted to say ‘I’m sorry. Will you give me a chance?’” he pleads, reaching over the table his hand hovering over yours, scared to grab your hand and have you pull away. Still flabbergasted, you look off to the side and see nobody’s come into the Three Broomsticks yet.
“Wow… Draco… I don’t know what to say… This is so sudden,” you gasp. “I’m completely taken aback. I had no idea that you liked me… Nothing you’ve done in the past would have hinted at it. Nothing.”
“You’re right, y/n,” Draco sighs, ready to admit defeat, thinking this is hopeless.
“Are you serious about this? Your confession?” you ask. “ Tell me the truth.”
“Absolutely.” His reply is sound. His eyes look into yours warmly. With remorse. You begin to smile softly at him. 
“Okay, Malfoy. I’ll give you a chance,” you decide with a nod.  With your words, Draco explodes with glee, slapping the table with excitement.
“Thank you, y/n!” he blurts out. “You will not regret this.”
“I sure hope I don’t,” you smile. “Now, how about we finish eating and walk around a bit?”
Draco grins like a kid who’s just sneaked five handfuls of cookies from the cupboard and nods, taking a sip from his drink. As you two sit across from each other, you share pleasant conversation, laughing about family and school. You laugh about how you’re both almost complete opposites. He’s a Slytherin; you’re a Gryffindor. You have seven siblings; he has none. You’re adopted; he’s not. You laugh and joke. You share stories from your past and your heart warms, enjoying having someone new to talk to who makes you feel unlike you ever had before.  You can’t remember a day that you smiled this much.
After you’re done in the Three Broomsticks, you both walk around the village, going into Honeydukes and Zonko’s. The day comes to a close and you both agree to do it again sometime. As you both go your separate ways you both fail to notice Fred, George, and Ginny spying on you from around the corner.
“That’s what I call a success,” Fred smirks to his siblings. Ginny scowls in your direction as you disappear down the hallway towards Gryffindor tower. 
“I’m glad the note worked. The three months of spying on Malfoy to see if he fancied her was exhausting. We had to use Omnioculars to see him writing in his paper his initials and y/n’s with a heart in his notebook from above,” George sighs, exhausted. He looks over to his sister, whose grumbling to herself under her breath.  “What’s gotten into you, Gin?”
“Why’d you two go to all this trouble for someone so toxic?” Ginny asks.  “This will only end in disaster.  Y/n and Draco Malfoy together can only end in a dumpster fire. He’s not a good influence.”
“You sound like Mum, Ginny,” Fred retorts.  “Y/n seemed to be satisfied with today and that’s enough. I haven’t seen her smile so much in a long time. Last time she smiled like that was when Georgie and my products first arrived.”
“Why are you going to so much trouble for her?” Ginny asks glumly.  “She was perfectly happy before.”
“Well… Georgie and I talked about it.  Y/n’s always felt a little bit alone and in the middle of things.  Even though we love y/n and she loves us, she’s self-conscious about being adopted sometimes. When we’re all together, she can be quiet sometimes.  She gets lonely and doesn’t feel like she belongs even though she completely does.  She’s a Weasley, after all, but she feels like the other Weasley.  We’ve noticed her feeling like that lately and we wanted to make her happy.  Someone she can maybe identify with on a personal level other than us,” Fred explains, careful of his wording.
“What’s there do identify with when it comes to Malfoy?”  Ginny grumbles, refusing to believe that y/n could possbly relate to someone as vile and cruel as Draco Malfoy
“Maybe not identify with.  Maybe just to have around.  Having that other person that you enjoy the company of,”  George adds.  
“Why did it have to be Malfoy?”
“Relationships can stem from the most unlikely of places,” George reasons.
“This is trouble, you two.  Y/n doesn’t need him. She has her family.  How can she feel lonely in our family when there’s so many of us.  You’re meddling with y/n’s emotions because you don’t think ahead.  This needs to be fixed,” Ginny decided, turning on her heels while trying to compile her course of action.  The twins look at each other with a worried expression.  What is Ginny thinking of doing?
----
Read Part II!
74 notes · View notes
writingmyselfout · 3 years
Text
Because I Could Not Stop for Death
Author: MBM
Summary: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, has died. Voldemort has won, and all his sacrifices were for naught. Surprisingly, the one who is angriest about it is his own Grim Reaper because his third time wasn’t a charm after all. He’s got to convince his Reaper that he’s worth betting on one last time, knowing that if he fails again, they’re both screwed.
Language: English
Rating: Teen+
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Reptilia28′s Don’t Fear the Reaper Challenge, Manipulative Dumbledore, Black Hermione Granger, Slight Ron Weasley Bashing
Prologue: The Show Must Go On (1/?)
HOW often had he seen that flash of green fill his vision? He had relived that fateful night so often throughout his seventeen years that he had long ago lost count. Now, he blinks his eyes open, trying to remember where he’d fallen asleep. Were they still in the tent? No, Bill and Fleur’s beach cottage? It would explain why everything is so bright. But as he blinks, squinting as he expected everything around him to appear blurry as they always did when he didn’t wear his glasses, he is surprised to find that he’s not in any cottage at all. He has no idea where he is currently.
    “Mr. Potter? Harry Potter?” Harry moves his eyes away from the corner of the otherwise empty white room he’s been looking around, over to where a door has opened and a figure stands. A pair of dark eyes in a brown, androgynous face glares at him from the doorway. “This way, then.”
    They don’t wait to see if he is going to follow, disappearing back through the doorway, and Harry stands up quickly. He wants answers and he figures he’s more likely to get them with that person than he will sitting around in a room by himself. He goes through the open door and into a long hallway with doors lined on either side. The figure who called him is continuing on, their gray robe barely brushing the ground and a hood lying flat against their back. They are halfway down the hall when they stop, look back to see he’s currently coming, and then open the sixth door on their left. When Harry catches up, he sees that they have sat down behind a desk.
    He steps cautiously into the office, his brain trying to make sense of what is going on. Wasn’t he just fighting at Hogwarts? What happened? He’s still disoriented, trying to piece together the events that lead him to be in this unfamiliar place with this stranger.
    “I can’t believe you’re here again ,” the person says, waving a hand towards one of the chairs in front of their desk, indicating Harry should sit as they continue, tone clearly exasperated, “ **already **.”
    “Where is ‘here’, precisely?” Harry questions, slowly sitting down and moving his head only slightly to take in what little else is in the room without actually losing sight of this person.
    “Limbo. Purgatory. The place between. So on and so forth.” They wave their hand in a circular motion to indicate they could go on, then turn to a stack of folders on the right side of their desk. “Basically you’re dead.” They start muttering, ranting really, almost as if they have forgotten Harry’s there as they go through the folders. “Again.” They slap a thing folder they’d picked up on the other side of the desk for emphasis. “Record breaking destined hero, and he can’t even manage to stay alive to confront said destiny.”
    The flash of green , Harry recalls. That’s right, he was hit with the Killing Curse by Voldemort. Again. It wasn’t a memory, it was him dying. Then the implication of what was just said hits him. “Wait, ‘again’? I’ve died before ?”
    A nod. “Yup. Three times before, to be precise.” They pause in their search to tap a finger on a nameplate sitting between them and Harry, drawing the wizard’s attention to it for the first time. Before his eyes, the strange markings morph into letters he recognizes: ‘Maquetauire Guayaba’. “Call me Yaba. You’ll butcher my name otherwise.” Meaning he’d done it before.
    Fair, as Harry couldn’t begin to guess how to accurately say their full name. “Okay, Yaba. You said I’ve been here three times before? So I’ve died-”
    “Four times.” Yaba confirms. “FOUR!” They slap another folder down. “‘Destined Heroes’ was supposed to be an upgrade, you know; less frustrating than Catalysts. Catalysts are unpredictable. Destined heroes have a moral compass . I was well on my way to breaking the record. FIFTEEN straight destined heroes with no failures, but no. You -” Yaba points an accusing finger at Harry, eyes narrowed “-were assigned to me, and instead of defeating your enemies, changing the world for the better, living to some ridiculously old age with your soulmate, and cementing my success as a Reaper, you keep dying . You can’t even keep your soulmate straight! Mixing up some Granger girl with that other one with the G name. Or is it the other way around? I don’t even know anymore!” Yaba throws their hands up in frustration before grabbing another folder. “It’s downright-” they slapped another folder down on their left “-fucking-” and then another “ infuriating !” ending with another loud slap. This time, though, the folder is a thicker one that they smack down in front of themselves.
    Mind racing with questions, and unsure where to even begin, Harry blurts out one word before he’s actively decided to ask any of them. “How?” It seems as good a place as any to start figuring things out, his mind whirling between the astonishing idea that he’s died so often, and the possibly equally surprising revelation that Hermione is his soulmate. Or could be, if Yaba hasn’t mixed her up with Ginny, the only other “G name” Harry can think of at the moment. Unless he means that Slytherin girl, Greengrass? He shakes his head, not wanting to get distracted.
    “How?” Yaba flips the folder in front of them open with a sigh. “Let’s see. This will probably start triggering memories, by the way, so try not to freak out. It’s normal, since this is where your lives converge.” They flip past the first two pages, Harry catching enough of a glimpse to see that even if he wasn’t looking at them upside down, all the information was written in unfamiliar markings he neither recognizes nor can he begin to guess what language or culture they originate from. They have no problem, however, as they stop on the third page. “The first time, you died approximately forty-four days short of your sixteenth birthday, after getting hit by simultaneous dark curses in an attempt to protect your soulmate.”
    Yaba adds more details, giving the location, but Harry’s remembering even as they speak. The Department of Mysteries, with members of Dumbledore’s Army. They had been tricked. No, he had been tricked, into believing that Sirius was in danger and the others had run headlong into danger with him. They had been running through one strange room after another, trying to stay ahead of the Death Eaters, and Hermione had tried to silence one but missed and they’d responded with a dark curse Harry had never heard of but resulted in a whip of dark purple flames heading right for her. He hadn’t stopped to think when he put himself between it and Hermione, his body had just moved and he’d grabbed her, turning them so it struck him in the back. At that same moment, someone else had aimed the Killing Curse at him, and his last memory was of Hermione’s shocked eyes on his. Then he had woken up in the empty white waiting room Yaba had pulled him from.
    “What happened after?” He interrupts, leaning forward in his chair. “Hermione, after I died, did she escape?”
    Yaba looks up from the folder, staring at Harry, annoyed. “What do you think? Not that it matters. It was all undone when I sent you back for your second attempt. That time…” They trail off, flipping through to another page. “Here we go, yes, the second time you go through the Battle of the Department of Mysteries -- what a stupid name -- you managed to get through that whole debacle pretty much unscathed.” Harry frowns, starting to recall his second life and remembering that the second time, although she survives, Hermione was hit with the curse he’d protected her from the first time.
    “Instead, you die at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. You were knocked out of the tower when you were hit with the Killing Curse. Wait.” Yaba lifts the previous page, squinting at the edge. “No, that was the third time. I remember, that’s one of the times you inexplicably didn’t choose your soulmate. Ah ha, stuck together.” They pull the two pages apart and go back. “The second time you didn’t drink enough Felix Felicis and ended up accidentally drinking some of the Acromantula venom your professor collected.”
    Harry winces, remembering suddenly the way the venom had seemed to burn him from the inside a few minutes after drinking it. When he had been bitten in his fourth year, the effects had been infinitely slower, and less noticeable. “Right. That almost destroyed my magical core. I had to be rushed to St. Mungo’s from the infirmary, and Mrs. Weasley offered to take me home for a few weeks over the summer while I recovered. I was trying to get away from Ginny, who kept trying to get me alone on my birthday, when-”
    “You fell down the stairs and broke your neck.” Yaba is actually grinning . “I’ll admit, that one was kind of funny. It’s like the less interested you are, the more persistent and desperate that girl becomes.” They frown then. “Still, would have preferred you not dying. Then there’s this latest-”
    “-which doesn’t make sense.” Harry interrupts. He’s on the edge of his seat, leaning forward onto the desk. “All those other times, something happened to kill the piece of Voldemort’s soul attached to me. I remember, we talked about it after the second time, ‘cause I was wondering why the venom didn’t kill me when it had basically drained me of almost all my magic and you said it was because it burning through magic attaching Voldemort’s soul to me first kept my last bit of magic from being destroyed.”
    Yaba nods. “Correct. And all the other times, something killed that soul piece first too. Including this time.”
    “How?”
    “You interrupted,” they point out. “This last time, Tom Riddle destroyed his own soul piece, and then you were eaten.”
    Harry blinks. “I was what ?”
    “Eaten.” Yaba repeats, slowly. “The snake passed by you after the curse hit you, felt the warmth of your body, and decided to bite and eat you.”
    “So let me get this straight. I’ve been cursed multiple times, fallen to my doom twice, and then eaten ?”
    Yaba nods. “It’s quite impressive, and if you weren’t making my afterlife miserable, I might even be entertained at all the ways you manage to fail.”
    “Look, I’m trying my best,” Harry argues. “I’m working blind here, and I wouldn’t have ever gone to the damn Department of Mysteries if Dumbledore had just been open with me about what was going on so I didn’t have to keep trying to figure it out through my literal enemy . I mean, a prophecy? They were protecting a prophecy ? And one that basically Voldemort already knew the general gist of? It was such a stupid secret!
    “And that memory he had me try to get from Slughorn! I nearly died getting it, and it was just Slughorn telling Voldemort about Horcruxes. Pointless, and okay, maybe he wasn’t completely aware of it at the time, since he didn’t actually know what Slughorn’s memory was going to be, but his pulling me out of St. Mungo’s and forcing me to go to the Burrow was on him. He kept making comments about Ginny reminding him of my mom and asking how things were going; it was not subtle.”
    Harry suddenly snaps his finger. “Oh! The tower! That killing curse wasn’t even aimed at me, it was aimed at him ! They were trying to kill him and he basically used me as a meat shield!” Harry practically growls, hands balling into fists. “Manipulative bastard, playing everyone like bloody pawns in a chess game. This last time, too. I didn’t know a damn thing about Voldemort’s soul but he did. He’d long suspected, and it was seeing Snape’s memory that gave me that info. Months wasted looking for Horcruxes when I bloody was one.”
    Harry slumped back into the chair, momentarily overwhelmed. Why had he trusted the old wizard so implicitly? Even after knowing that he’s the reason that he was left at the Dursleys’ abusive,neglectful home all his life? It didn’t make a lick of sense, now that he was fully aware of just how many situations throughout his school years Dumbledore had manipulated. It wasn’t to say that the old man was necessarily evil , that was a designation better given to Voldemort and his ilk; but at the very least, the wizard was fairly self-serving.
    Yaba is quiet for a moment, then sighs. “Yes, well, unfortunately for you and my record, Albus Dumbledore is a Catalyst.”
    “A what?” This is the second time Yaba mentions him. “Can you explain? You mentioned that before. And I’m a-”
    “Destined Hero. Essentially, people fall into a bit of a hierarchy, I guess is the simplest way of putting it,” Yaba starts to explain. “Most beings are normal, living fairly normal lives, and they are what we call the Standard. They have no specific destinies, and their lives are shaped by a combination of uncontrollable factors such as where they are born, to whom, when, etcetera, and their choices. Grim Reapers-”
    “Someone like you?” Harry interrupts.
    Yaba shrugs. “Yes and no. To you lot on Earth, we’re all Grim Reapers, and it’s easiest to just go with that. In reality, it’s a bit more complicated. What you imagine, or imagined before dying, as a ‘Grim Reaper’ is really a Soul Reaper. They collect souls after a being dies and bring them to the In-Between. There, they weigh that being’s circumstances against their choices.
    “Catalysts are beings capable of affecting great change. Various villains and heroes throughout history were Catalysts. There is no predicing if they will be good or bad because they tend to live by a complicated set of beliefs. They may begin with good intentions, but be corrupted, or vice versa. Bunch of pain in the asses, to be honest.”
    “I’m assuming both Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore are Catalysts?”
    “Yes. As I said, pain in the asses. A Catalyst in turn causes the existence of a Destined Hero. Sometimes that Hero is just someone who acts like a positive influence in the Catalyst’s life, preventing them from going down a dark path. Sometimes, as in your case, they are opposing forces that cannot coexist and determine the fate of the world.”
    “Lucky me.” Harry grumbles. Granted, he can’t imagine a world in which he would somehow be a “positive influence” on Tom Riddle, thus preventing his becoming Voldemort. “Do Destined Heroes always get multiple tries?”
    Yaba coughs, clears their throat, and looks aside. “Uh, well, no. Usually, if a Hero dies without fulfilling their destiny, they are given a choice: a second chance or acceptance. It’s rare that a Hero didn’t at least try , and even in those cases, it’s often because they died before understanding what their destiny even was . If they accept, they are reunited temporarily with their loved ones in Heaven.”
    “Temporarily?”
    “Yes. You see, eventually, most beings in Heaven forget their lives. Once all of their loved ones have died, there is no longer an attachment to their lives. Heroes who have fulfilled their destiny and lived great lives, along with their loved ones who reach Heaven, are the exception, but that is because where they reside is like an upper level of Heaven, I guess you could call it. An eternal reward, essentially.”
    “So it’s worth it for a Hero who fails to not accept and instead ask for a second chance,” Harry concludes.
    “Yes. Although a second chance could be one of two things: attempt to fulfill your original destiny, or await the need for a new Hero and accept a new destiny. Namtar, the one you call Death, may decide that a failure cannot be reversed because of” Yaba pauses and then shrugs “reasons. And he’s the boss, so what he says goes.”
    “Why then have I had more than just a second chance?”
    “If you remember, I mentioned Soul Reapers, correct? Well Grims are the ones who handle Catalysts, since their lives tend to be more complicated than Standards. Grims who have worked for a very long time, with countless Catalysts with little error can be promoted to Demons.” Yaba indicates themselves. “Many of your kind used to call us ‘death gods’, but as religions changed, so too did our names. And because you all fear death so much, ‘demons’ became synonymous with evil beings, so we’ll sometimes go by the technically incorrect title of ‘Grim Reapers’.
    “Demons such as myself are basically directly under Death, and we get the mostly cushy job of just supervising a department of Grims and Standards, with the occasional Destined Hero. The record for most Destined Heroes without failures in a row is fourteen.” Yaba leans across their desk. “I am tied with Iku, and he currently doesn’t have a Destined Hero, so the new record should be mine , but you keep failing .” They throw themselves back into their chair, looking defeated.
    Harry blinks, unsure whether he should sympathize with his Grim Reaper, or Demon--whatever they were called--or not. On the one hand, they seemed to be another self-serving being using him as a pawn, but on the other, perhaps he could get himself another chance.
    “So if I’m understanding this correctly, rather than give me a choice, you just kept giving me more chances?” Harry clarifies.
    “Oh no, you kidding me? That would get me demoted all the way back to Soul Reaper if I took your choice away!” They look scandalized at the very idea. “I always ask, but no offence, you’re predictable. I knew you were never going to turn down the chance to go back and help your friends, especially ‘cause you always ask the same thing first. ‘What does my death mean for my friends?’ The answer,” Yaba rushes in, anticipating Harry’s need to know, “is that most of them die.”
    “Then of course I want to go back!”
    “You’re not understanding, I can’t keep doing this. Someone is bound to have noticed by now that I keep looping time to allow you to start over. I mean, it’s not hard to keep that under the radar; death is a busy business. But I’ve done it three times .”
    “So what’s one more?” Harry argues.
    “Easy for you to say. At this point, I’m not sure you can succeed.” Yaba taps the folder for emphasis. “Not that I necessarily think it’s your fault. Not entirely, anyway.”
    Harry frowns. “So, what? I just have to accept my fate? Doesn’t that mean you lose your streak? What happens then?”
    “Then I hope that since it’s my first failure in centuries, they don’t decide to audit your file. Iku’s gloating would be bad enough but if I get audited, forget the record and my streak, I might lose my position and be demoted back to working with Catalysts .”
    “They don’t audit the file if I succeed?” Harry asks, fairly certain he knows the answer.
    “No, they don’t.” Yaba confirms. They’re staring at each other, and Yaba shakes his head at Harry. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do; convince me to send you back again . But every time I break a rule, it’s one more thing to be punished for when you fail and I get audited. At least if I quit now, I might be able to talk myself out of the worst of it.”
    “The problem is, you keep sending me back to, what, six months to a year before my last death? And with no memories of those deaths, I am right back in the middle of my hero-worship of Dumbledore, and all my other relationships are pretty much established. Of course I’m going to keep failing!” Harry stands up, pacing about the room. “If you send me back farther, with my memories, I’m sure I can do it.”
    Yaba watches him pace. “I don’t have the ability to let you keep your memories. That’s a separate department altogether. Not sure that’s possible, really.”
    Harry looks over at his Grim Reaper, noting the thoughtful look on their face, and he’s suddenly standing by the desk, leaning forward. “Can you find out? If I could just remember , you could send me all the way back to the beginning. I mean, not all the way, but before I even start at Hogwarts. I could make sure to not repeat those deaths, and save other lives.” Like Cedric’s and Sirius’s.
    There’s a moment of contemplative silence, then suddenly Yaba calls out. “Opiel!” A shadow suddenly appears next to the desk, like a large curtain that has been balled up, and unfurls into a large dog-like creature. It’s dark eyes take Harry in before it turns its head over to look at Yaba. They speak words to it in some unknown language and just as quickly, the creature disappears. “I’m not making any promises, there’s maybe half a dozen under Death who might have the ability to do what you’re asking, and only one who might be willing to help.”
    Harry has barely nodded when suddenly the creature, Opiel, is back. This time, accompanied by another. Harry vaguely remembers a school lesson, back before Hogwarts, in which their history book had shown images of ancient Greek statues. The woman before them looked like one of those statues come alive, although rather than all white marble, she had skin of a light brown, almost golden complexion, wore a dress of pale pink, and the hair curling about her face and pulled back into a bun at her neck was almost as dark as his own.
    “You summoned me?” Harry suppressed the urge to shiver. The tone of her voice was cold, and it was clear she was offended.
    “Summoned? Lethe, I just asked Opiel to tell you I was looking for you,” Yaba explains. “I couldn’t very well take a Destined Hero to the Library, after all.”
    Lethe’s dark eyes move over Harry as she crosses her arms. “No,” is all she says after a moment, and Harry assumes she means Yaba could not have taken Harry to this Library. She looks away from him and back to the Grim Reaper. “What is your purpose in seeking me out?”
    “Ah, see, Harry here needs to go back to reattempt his destiny. I was hoping you could make it so that he recalls his past life?” Yaba gives her a hopeful look. “You know, as a favor to me.”
    “That I have not let it be known he has been thrice revived should be favor enough,” Lethe responds, and Yaba grimaces.
    “Ah, you noticed?” Their eyes widen. “Has anyone else?”
    “No.” She does not elaborate further, looking between them for a quiet moment. It isn’t until Harry shifts restlessly that she says, “My domain is oblivion and forgetfulness.”
    “Yes, that is your expertise,” Yaba agrees, “but it’s all memory. You could prevent forgetfulness too, couldn’t you?”
    “Assisting you would be worth more than what I owe.”
    Yaba nods their head in understanding. “So instead I’ll owe you in turn. Absolutely. So you’ll help?”
    She unfolds her arms and comes around the desk to stand next to Yaba, holding her hand out. They pass her Harry’s folder and she takes a moment to flip through the pages. “What were you thinking?”
    “Further than the previous times. Age eleven.”
    “He cannot maintain all his memories.”
    “Why not?” Harry asks.
    “Because.” She looks up to meet his eyes and states matter of factly, “You would go mad. Your mind is not intended to hold the memories of various lives, and it is especially not intended to remember its own death, much less multiple deaths.”
    “I’m fine right now, though.”
    “You’re dead,” Yaba reminds him. “So your mind and body aren’t constricted by the normal limitations.” Lethe nods her head in agreement, setting the folder down. Yaba turns to her. “What do you suggest then?”
    Her head tilts to the right slightly as she thinks, eyes still on Harry. “I would suggest he choose a few memories to take back with him. The ones he feels to be most pertinent to ensuring his success, and I can make it so that they come to him in dreams or are triggered by something.”
    “Then it will be more like an intuition or a glimpse into the future. Your mind will basically come up with a plausible reason for why you seem to just know those things,” Yaba explains.
    “Okay,” Harry agrees. He’ll take whatever he can get, before either of these beings changes their mind. “Let’s do it, then.”
    “Not so fast.” Yaba opens a drawer in their desk and pulls a paper out. They read over it and then pull out a long item that seems to be some type of writing utensil. It’s carved out of one piece and is all white, including the pointed tip, but when they press it to the paper it writes in blue, the words around it moving to make space. “This has to be the last time, and to make sure Lethe doesn’t get caught up in my trouble if you fail again, we’re doing this the right way and drawing up a contract. This is a big exception, so if you don’t succeed, your acceptance means you’ll have to work some time for the the Library of Memories to make up for essentially wasting Lethe’s time.”
    They finish writing then flip the page around so it’s facing Harry. With a tap, it’s all legible, and Harry pulls the chair forward so he can sit and read over it. The basics seems to be what they already discussed, that he’ll be sent back for a final chance to fulfill his destiny and that he understands that should he fail, he will be forced to accept with no additional chances. Furthermore, for using up the time of a Memory Librarian, he agrees to give back the equivalent amount of labor before being allowed to take his place in Heaven with the understanding that it may prevent him from meeting with his loved ones if he does not complete his time prior to the limitation of a being’s memories in Heaven. At the bottom is a place for his to affirm his understanding and sign, and then a second page that is blank except for an area for signatures at the bottom.
    “What is the second page for?”
    Lethe is the one who answers him. “That is where you shall write the memories you choose to keep. You can pick no more than a dozen, so choose wisely, and I shall review to ensure it can be done. If no changes are needed, we will both sign that we are in agreement with those memories.”
    A dozen memories. A dozen memories out of the collective seventeen years he had lived. Twenty-one, if they were counting the years he’d relived. Surely he could come up with moments that if he did differently, would change the course of his life? He had to, he was only getting one more shot at this. So he began writing, beginning with:
The Dursleys will take your Hogwarts letter: hide it...
Story Notes:
Title of the fic comes from the Emily Dickinson poem of the same name.
Chapter title is from the Queen song of the same name.
Maquetaurie Guayaba was the name of a Taino death god. Opiel was the demon guard dog protecting the entrance to the ancestral spirit realm.
Lethe, in Greek mythology, was the personification of oblivion and associated with (sometimes considered the goddess of) the river in Hades of that name that made its drinkers forget the past.
2 notes · View notes
sincerlypadfoot · 3 years
Text
Drunk In love (1)
~The twins realize you have no place to go for winter break when they ask so they invite you over, you don’t realize what a proper family is supposed to be like until you meet the Weasleys
Send Requests Here
Word Count - 1230
Tumblr media
“Sage if you don’t hurry up and get out of bed we’re going to miss the christmas feist, we go home today!” Hermione said standing overtop of me waking me up.
“I’m not going to the stupid feast,” I muttered tossing my pillow over my head. “Christmas is stupid,” I yelled into my pillow making Hermione sit down and huff.
“I’ll bring you back something to eat then, make sure your packed to go home,” Hermione said patting my pillow where my head was and walking out of the room leaving me alone, I tossed my pillow across the room and sat up.
For four years I went home to a family who didn’t give a single thought into my life, this year something in me felt different and I didn’t wanna go home. I got out of my bed tossing my pillow back onto my bed and walked down to the common room where two ginger boys sat on the couch kicking each other and fighting.
“Goodmorning,” They both said turning their heads towards me. “All packed and ready to go home? Fred asked shifting his body.
“No, i’m staying here this winter break,” I said to someone for the first time. “Don’t really feel like going home to a broken family,” I shrugging my shoulder and walked passed then but was stopped.
“Why don’t you come to our house for winter break,” George said causing me to turn around and look at the pair. “No one deserves to be alone on christmas,” He said with a little bit of a smile.
“It’s official,” Fred cried out throwing his hands in the air before I could answer. “Sage is coming to our house for christmas,” He shouted rolling off the couch. “Now lets go we have a christmas feast to attend,” Fred said moving to one side well George went to the other swinging their arms around me. I opened my mouth but nothing came out, I was starstruck.
“Hello,” Hermione chuckled looking at the three of us. “I thought you weren’t coming down?” She questioned moving over so I could sit down at the twins released their arms around me.
“Sage is coming to our house for winter break,” George said smiling and digging into his food. “No questions ask shes staying at our house,” he chuckled making everyone look at me.
“I’m not going home and was invited to the Weasleys,” I said to Hermione who had a smile on her face. “It happened only minutes ago,” I smiled awkwardly.
“Thank you all for being here!” Dumbledore said catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I wanna say that this year is a good year, I hope each and every one of you have a wonderful christmas break,” He announced slamming his staff into the ground. “Eat up everyone,” he called out walking back to the table.
“So Sage,” Ron said shoving his mouth his food followed by his two other brothers. “Why aren’t you going home to your family?” He asked causing Hermione and Harry to look over at him.
“It’s fine,” I chuckled shrugging my shoulders. “I just don’t want to this year, just personal family problems,” I answered picking at my nails under the table, warm hands reached over and grabbed mine, I looked up to George smiling over at me holding my hands under the table.
~
“Hello children,” Molly joyfully said walking over to the five of us, giving Ginny a big hug then moving over to Ron then the twins with me in the middle fo the two. “Whos this?” She asked smiling then pulling me into a hug. 
“Oh we’re hugging,” I chuckled slowly wrapping my arms around Molly, we let go of each other and she wrapped her arms around Fred and George.
“This is Sage, she doesn’t have anywhere to go this winter break so we invited her over mom,” Fred said with a smile on his face.
“Thats okay dear, your always welcome as the Weasleys,” She said hugging me again. “I’m a hugger,” She whispered in my ear making me laugh. “Now come on home is waiting,” Molly said turning around and walking away towards the floo system.
“Your family is so nice,” I said to Fred making him laugh. “I don’t even remember the last time I was hugged by my mom,” I whispred regretting sharing so much.
“Get used to it, my whole family is like that,” Fred whispered back to me, everyone went into the floo system one by one, Molly firsted then Fred followed by me. I opened my eyes and appeared in a nice wooden house.
“Arthur we have a guest this winter,” Molly said looking at a ginger haired boy who walked towards me with a smile. “She’s a muggle born you're gonna love her,” Molly said walking away, Fred pulled me aside and out George and the rest came.
“Sage why don’t I show you to your room,” George suggested picking up his bag and mine. “Follow me,” George said leaving the room and walking up the stairs. I smiled to Arthur and Molly then quickly followed George up the stairs. “You’ll be staying on the top floor, Fred and my room are right across so if you need anything we’re here,” He said opening a door.
“I love it,” I said in awe walking into the room, a window was placed right beside my bed viewing the field at their house. “Thank you George,” I said again turning around to face him. 
“I’ll just leave you too it then, my mom will call us down for dinner when it’s ready, my two brother Charlie and Bill are also here, not sure if you’ve ever met them,” George said turning around. “Our house is crazy in the summer,” The ginger boy said exciting the room and shutting the door.
“Oh gosh,” I whispered to myself landing on my bed. “What have I gotten myself into,” I looked up at the roof, little drawing were placed, I smiled to myself looking at everything.
“Dinner!” I faintly heard from the house, footsteps gathered around the house almost shaking the thing. A knock on my door causing me to jump up and quickly answer it. 
“Dinner,” George repeated. “Long time no see,” He chuckled as we walked down the stairs together, everyone already being downstairs. “My family is very loud im warning you now,”  He whispred as we entered the dining room. 
Molly was using her wand to place everything down on the table as everyone fought to get into their seats without confrontation from their parents.
“Dears sit down,” Molly said using my wand to pull out two chairs that sat beside each other. “Tonight we are having meatloaf,” Molly said causing meatloaf to appear on the table.
“It looks really good Mrs. Weasley,” I said turning my head to look over at her as she sat down beside me. “Thank you for letting me stay this summer,” I continued saying.
“You can call me Molly dear, we would rather you be in a place of love then a place where you’re not happy,” Molly said deeply smiling at me. “Now everyone dig in,” She said looking over at George who was looking at me, I looked over at him and he looked away quickly making one of his brother laugh.
16 notes · View notes