#anyways. i love ron so much. i wish they could have kept him in the show... but maybe he's happier in appleton. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 121: Record

"I found some weird box full of muggle stuff," Ron called, carrying said weird box out into the open living room that Hermione and Draco were working in since they had mandatory cleaning on Saturday mornings for everyone who lived in Grimmauld. "I don't even know what these are," he added, holding up flat, black circles with holes in the middle.

"They're records," Hermione replied, glancing up from the cabinet she was working on cleaning out. "They play music," she elaborated.

Ron made a face, "They're probably junk," he replied.

"What are?" Harry asked as he emerged from the creepy closet off of the kitchen, covered in spider webs.

"These records," Ron said, kicking the box with his toe.

"Oh," Harry said, making his way over, "Were they Sirius', do you reckon?"

"It says 'Lily Evans' on the side," Draco pointed out.

"Probably junk either way," Ron said.

Draco Malfoy had spent more than half of his life in love with Harry Potter. He might not have called it love when he was young but the older he got, the more clear it became that he had been a lovesick idiot for most of his life. He'd spent a lifetime memorizing every detail of that face. So he couldn't really be blamed for noticing the split second of hurt that flashed across Harry's face before he nodded, "Yeah. You're probably right. I'll just run them out to the bin."

"Let me," he said before he'd really formed a plan. "I've got all this to take out anyway," he said, gesturing to the box of junk that he'd weeded out this morning. "And we all know that Kreacher has less of a problem with it when I do it."

Harry gave him a little smile that Draco wondered if anyone believed was genuine. "Thanks," he said.

Draco levitated his box and the box of records and headed down toward the kitchen. When he was out of ear shot he murmured, "Kreacher," and the elf appeared.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Hi," he said, giving him a little nod, "Could you help me with something?"

"Anything!" he replied, nodding hard enough that his ears flapped.

"Could you hold onto this box for me?" he asked, gesturing to the box with the records.

"Of course," he said, immediately taking the box and disappearing.

Draco nodded in satisfaction and started plotting how he'd learn enough about records that he could help Harry use his mother's.

(Read more below the cut)

Two weeks later, on another Saturday morning cleaning day, he still hadn't made much progress. Luna had actually been the most helpful but he hadn't any idea where to find a record player.

But as luck would have it, one turned up in the library, tucked in a cabinet behind some very dusty potion vials and a rusted old cauldron. "Kreacher," he whispered.

When he appeared he held out the record player and asked him to keep it with the records.

He felt quite pleased with himself now that he'd found the record player; he was certain that he'd be able to play records for Harry in no time.

-------------

It took a couple more weeks. Figuring out how to get electricity into the house was no easy feat (but it was easier once he found out that someone, Sirius he suspected, had done it before).

When Harry arrived home that evening, Draco dragged him into the living room, "Draco, what is going on?" he asked, laughing at him as he tried to get him to hurry up.

"I have something for you," he said, nudging him into the room and presenting the record player. "Ta da!"

"Err," Harry said, looking more closely at it, "What is it?"

"It's a record player," he said.

Harry's head whipped around so fast that it made Draco feel dizzy, "What?" he whispered.

"I found it," Draco said, "when I was cleaning in the library. And I thought you might," he shrugged and reached for the box of records, holding it out to Harry, "I thought you might want to listen to them."

The other man looked at him then down at the box in his hands, eyes wide as he reached out a trembling hand to brush his fingers over the spot where 'Lily Evans' was inscribed on the cardboard box. "You," he started before breaking off and covering his mouth with his hand. "I don't know what to say," he whispered.

His heart was full to bursting and he was pretty sure he'd never done anything as good as this in his life. "Would you like to listen to one?"

Harry looked up at him and nodded.

Carefully, he took out the record on the top and slipped it out of it's jacket, "Ella Fitzgerald," he said. "I've no idea who that is."

"Me either," Harry replied, coming closer to watch over Draco's shoulder as he set the record on the plate, turned the player on, and set the needle.

Music spilled forth entrancing them both, It's not the pale moon that excites me, that thrills and delights me, oh no, it's just the nearness of you.

"Wow," Harry murmured, watching the record spin. He turned to Draco, "I can't tell you what this means to me," he whispered. "Thank you."

He shrugged but couldn't quite keep the pleased smile from his face. "You're welcome."

Harry looked back at the record player before looking over at Draco again, "Do you want to sit and listen with me?"

He nodded, "I'd like that very much."

------------

It became something that the two of them did together fairly regularly after that. Sometimes they'd sit together and read while they listened to records, sometimes they'd talk while they listened, or catch up on work, or just listen together but it quickly became Draco's favorite pastime.

One Friday night while Ron and Hermione were out on a date, Ginny was away for a tournament, and Luna was working late, the two of them put on a record and ate dinner in the living room, continuing to drink wine while they talked and laughed long after their pasta was gone.

As the Bob Marley album, Exodus, came to an end, Draco stood up and made his way over to the box. "Etta James," he read, "At Last." He smiled and showed it to Harry, "look, she drew little hearts next to the song titles."

Harry smiled that melancholy sort of smile that made Draco ache inside. "Let's hear it, then."

Draco put it on for them and plopped back down on the floor in front of the sofa, his side mere inches away from Harry's, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"I like this one," Harry sighed thirty seconds in as he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Do you think they used to dance to this one?" he murmured wistfully.

Draco's heart clenched painfully as he was overwhelmed by the sense of loss that Harry must feel constantly. He had to take a slow deep breath before he responded. "Maybe," he whispered back.

The corner of Harry's mouth curled up in a soft smile, "I think they liked to dance," he murmured. "Hagrid gave me a picture of the two of them dancing together when I was at Hogwarts."

"Yeah?" he asked, hoping Harry would say more about that.

Harry nodded, "They looked really happy, you know?" he said. "Like they were the only two people in the world, like they weren't in the middle of a war," he sighed. "I like to imagine both of them dancing with me when I was a baby," he confessed in a whisper, "when I was crying or something. I like to imagine that the love that saved my life was tangible all the time, you know?" he murmured.

"I'm sure it was," Draco said softly.

He leaned over and rested his head on Draco's shoulder and Draco hardly dared to breathe. After a moment Harry said, "Would you dance with me?"

"Yes," he breathed immediately. "Yeah, of course I would."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, sitting up slightly to look at him.

Draco nodded and stood up, reaching for Harry's hand and tugging him up after him. He kept Harry left hand in his right and wrapped his left arm around Harry's shoulder, leaving space for Harry's right arm around his waist.

The other man hummed softly, drawing Draco in a little closer and closing his eyes as they swayed around the room. Draco couldn't stop staring; at the way Harry's eyelashes were long enough that they brushed his glasses, at the tiny nearly invisible freckles that dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, at the barely visible wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, at his lovely full lips, and the way his stubble looked against his skin.

I love you he couldn't help but think, over and over like it was a personal mantra, like it was the only thing that could keep him alive; he ached with it, with the desire to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him what he really thought of him, to build a life with him, to give him everything that he deserved to have.

Harry's eyes blinked open as the song came to an end, his brows furrowing slightly as he brought his hand up to cup Draco's cheek, "Are you alright?" he asked softly, wiping a tear that had slipped out.

"Merlin, sorry," Draco said, taking a step back to wipe his eyes. "Sorry. It's just your life has been so unfair and when I think about you not really knowing your parents and having to live with your shitty relatives, and-" he choked on the tears.

"Hey," Harry murmured, pulling Draco back into his arms and rubbing his back, "Hey, it's alright."

"It's not alright," he managed.

"Well, no," Harry agreed, "I suppose it isn't. But it's all past now," he said. "Now I have my friends and I live with people who love me and whom I love," he carded his fingers through the hair at the base of Draco's neck. "Ron and Hermione, Luna and Ginny," he swallowed, "you."

"I just wish," he started before breaking off because finishing that sentence would be showing far too much of his hand.

Harry drew back slightly to look at him, "What?"

His eyes were so open, so earnest that Draco couldn't help himself. "I wish you'd let me love you the way you deserve to be loved."

The other man blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Promise me that nothing changes if you don't like what I have to say," he said, clenching his fingers in Harry's t-shirt.

"I promise. You're one of my best friends, Draco," he assured.

He took a deep breath, "I'm in love with you," he finally managed. "And I just want to love you, all the time. I want to hold your hand, and dance with you, and make you laugh, and surprise you. I want so many things for you-"

"Me too," Harry interrupted. "I'm in love with you, too, I mean."

"Really?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it, his eyes welling up with tears again.

"Oh, love," Harry said with a little smile, wiping Draco's eyes with his thumbs, "Yes, really. Come here," he said, pulling him in closer and swaying to the music, letting Draco cling to him as they moved together.

As they continued to dance, Harry started to tell him all of the things that he dreamed about for the future together. Painting a picture of the beautiful life they could have and after a few minutes, Draco joined in, adding bits of his hopes as well.

They stayed up late into the night, talking and dreaming of the life they wanted to give each other. And every time they fought after that, one of them would get out the record player and they'd dance together and remind each other of the lives they wanted to build.

----------------

Day 120: Tough | Day 122: Moon

#100 drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #drarry #drarry ficlets #drarry drabbles #fluff #pining #like a lot of pining #boys in love #love confessions #acts of love #this one got away from me #but I sort of love it #getting together #friends to lovers

312 notes · View notes

little-diable · 4 years

Text

Potter - Draco Malfoy (angst/smut)

Request by anon: Hello. I love your imagines! Can I request a Draco smut? The reader and him are in a secret romance due to her being Harry's sister. She is Harry's stolen object in the second task, but she doesn't know how to swim. Draco saves her and has soft smut in the Prefect bathroom with multiple "I love you"s.

Hope this is what you had in mind. Enjoy my loves. xxx

“Sh, don’t want anybody to hear us, do we?” His lips nibbled on her neck, hands massaging her skin, leaving a few hidden marks, something he’ll be able to admire later on. His scent filled her nostrils, the faint green apple aroma made a homey feeling overcome her, trying to pull her love even closer.

“My gorgeous love,“ Draco breathed out, smiling at her, those bright eyes twinkling in the darkness of the storage room, he loved to feel her close, pressed against his chest, shuttered breaths leaving her swollen lips, begging for more.

“We need to leave,“ (y/n) mumbled, she couldn’t miss her brothers first task, still shaken up from the way he had whispered “dragons” just last night. Her first instinct had been to tell him to quit, she couldn’t endure watching him struggle against something that deadly, but soon enough the (y/h/c) haired Potter girl realized, she couldn’t do anything, besides cheering for her brother, supporting him no matter what.

“Fucking Potter,“ Draco muttered under his breath, groaning as his girlfriend slapped her hand against his abdomen.

„Don‘t Draco, he’s my bother,“ (y/n) reminded him once again, as if he wasn’t struggling with the sober truth every single day.

Draco and (y/n) had crossed paths years ago, eyes gazing at each other as the hat sorted them into their houses. A Malfoy would naturally be placed into Slytherin, just like (y/n) followed her brother into Gryffindor. Draco could still feel the uneasy feeling rising in his stomach as the hat called “Gryffindor”, he had deeply wished for her to follow him into Slytherin.

It had taken (y/n) and Draco a few years to finally find each other, coming clean with their emotions, hiding their relationship from curious eyes, especially the ones of Dracos so called enemy, Harry Potter, (y/n)s brother.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry.“Draco kissed her forehead, running a hand through his bright blonde hair, trying to lace his voice with any sympathy, struggling to do so. “I’ll find you later on,“ and off he went, blending in with the rest of the students, cheering for anybody who didn’t carry the name Potter.

His bright eyes would unintentionally find her (y/e/c) ones from time to time, checking to see, if she was alright, his heart was clenching at the sight, she was trembling, hands interlaced with Hermoines. Draco wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, his mind was coming up with all the supportive things he’d whisper into her ear.

He caught himself admiring her features more than once, proud that he was the one, that got to call her his girlfriend, he’d do anything to show her off to all those students, if his bloodline and her brother wouldn’t stand in their way.

Even Draco felt scared, just for a second though, but his emotions were pure, watching Harry disappear, chased by the dragon, praying that he’d make it. Harry couldn’t leave (y/n) behind, he was the only true family member she had left, not as if she’d ever call her uncle and her aunt her family.

“God, Harry,“ she fell into her brothers arms, a relieved sob left her lips, (y/n) inhaled his scent, the all too familiar calming sensation overcame her, made her sink into her brothers embrace even further. “I’m alright, don’t worry,“ he kissed her hairline, hands tightly squeezing her before he let go of her, ready to celebrate his victory.

Harry and Draco would cross paths once that evening, Harrys eyebrows would furrow together as he caught the blonde Slytherin staring at his sister, the almost lovingly seeming smile he shot her made Harry frown.

“(Y/n), love, look at me,“ Draco had her pressed against the cold wall, hands wrapped around her trembling frame. „He won’t leave you, Harry will survive this tournament.“

An exhausted expression grazed Dracos features, both, (y/n) and Draco hadn’t caught much sleep these past few days, she’d seek him out whenever another nightmare would haunt her, not able to keep on sleeping without him near.

“Sorry,“ (y/n) hiccuped, fingers grasping the fabric of his sweater, too scared to let go of him. She admired him, truly did, thankful for muttering those sweet words to her, obviously trying to swallow down his hatred for her brother. “Don’t be,“ he kissed her forehead, dipping his head down to pull her into him.

“I love you,“ she mumbled against his lips, kissing him one last time before she disappeared into the darkness, creeping down the hallways, finding her way back to her dorm, praying for at least a few hours of sleep.

But as (y/n) had been woken up from her sleep early in the morning, she cursed herself for ever leaving the comfortableness of her bed, desperate to find her love, not able to calm the raging storm inside her mind herself. Hermoine and Ron had dragged her to where they’d meet with Dumbledore, getting initiated into the next task.

An uneasy feeling settled inside her bones, (y/n) had never liked the water, never felt calm in the crashing waves of the ocean, so she refused to learn how to swim, she wouldn’t need to swim anyways, well, how wrong she had been.

Neither the teachers nor Ron and Hermoine spared her protests any mind, trying to bribe her into it, telling her how much she’d help her brother with it, since everybody knew, that (y/n) would give her all for Harry, even her last breath.

“No, absolutely not,“Draco muttered, arms crossed in front of his chest, staring down on his girlfriend. „I don’t have any other choice,“ she sounded just as unconvinced, her mind was racing, anxiety nestled in her, god, she prayed that Harry would be able to rescue her.

“I’ll only give him a few minutes, otherwise I’ll step in,“ Draco left without kissing her goodbye, too enraged to even think straight, not noticing her sad eyes on him, aching for his touch. “I love you,“ she whispered into the hallway, eyes set on the spot where Draco had just been standing on a few moments ago.

With trembling legs she stood in front of the old wizard, hopeful eyes were gazing at her. “It will be alright Miss Potter, don’t worry,“ he winked at her. She shot her friends one last glance before she got put into her trance, disappearing down the lake, darkness engulfed her, lulled her in.

Dracos hard eyes were focused on the lake, he kept on tapping his foot, counting the minutes, cold sweat was breaking out on his back, he felt scared, truly scared, for the first time in his life. “What’s going on with you Malfoy?” Goyle chuckled, teasing his distressed friend.

The prince of Slytherin pushed him out of the way as Harry broke through the lakes surface, (y/n) nowhere to be seen. “Where is she?” Draco spat, eyes finding Harrys shivering frame. „I don’t know,“ Harry stuttered, he hadn’t noticed the way she had struggled underwater, hadn’t noticed her letting go of his hand. Only now he seemed to realize, that his sister was actually not by his side.

Blood was rushing in Dracos ears, too many thoughts and emotions crashed upon him, his limbs began to tremble, scared of losing his one true love. Curious eyes watched him pull off his coat and shoes, drowning out the cheering for the other contestants.

“Fucking Potter,“ Draco spat, diving headfirst into the black waters, he’d rescue her, no matter what. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, Draco tried to calm himself down, knowing that it would take him a while to find his girlfriend. Glad for all those hours his parents made him take swimming lessons, diving for hours on end, looking for random objects underwater.

His bright eyes found her unresponsive figure on the lakes ground, tears were welling up in his eyes, blurring his already limited vision. Draco wrapped his arms around her frame, with his last breath he pulled themselves up the water, gasping as he broke through the lakes surface. “Don’t touch her,“ he growled at Harry, placing (y/n) down on the wooden stand, desperately trying catch her (y/e/c) eyes staring at him.

Draco shook her a few times, cradling her cold frame in his arms, a relived sigh made it past his lips as she began to cough up the water in her lungs. “Finally,” he breathed into her ear, wrapping his coat around her shivering limbs. He didn’t let Harry near him, silencing him with a simple “not now Potter” every time he tried to apologize to his sister.

“Come on, let’s take a bath my love,“ Draco was still carrying her, glad to finally be back at the castle, walking up to the perfect’s bathroom, knowing that they’d find some peace up there. “Let me help you,“ he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, eyes focused on hers, drops of water were dripping down from her tips, her lips were slightly blue, (y/n) wouldn’t let go of his hands.

Draco had to bite down the “I told you so”, that was about to spill from his lips, but her dilated pupils were enough to shut him up, enough to pull her against his chest, kissing her forehead over and over again.

She was placed on his lap, front pushed against his, hands tangled in his hair, the warm water engulfed them, calmed their shivering limbs. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that,“ (y/m) mumbled against his neck, her heart felt heavy, she didn’t care about almost drowning, didn’t care that Harry forgot about her, only cared about the way Draco felt, the anxious feelings, that ran through his veins.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault my love,“ Draco grasped her neck, pulled her in for a kiss. „I’ve never been that scared. It made me realize, that I can’t be myself without you by my side, you’re my everything and I truly love you.” Draco confessed, chuckling at the smile, that tugged on her lips.

“I love you too,“ she whispered, pushing her lips against his, dipping her tongue into his mouth, deepening the sensual gesture. Both were in their own little bubble of calmness, relishing in being that close to one another, set on making them feel as loved and appreciated as possible.

Dracos hands found her wetness, he growled into her mouth, fingers dipping into her heat, spreading her open. “So pretty,“ (y/n) gasped at his praising, nails clawing into his shoulders. „Make love to me Draco,“ she moaned, desperate to wrap her walls around him.

She sunk down on his hard length, he filled her in every right way, deliciously stretching her. “Draco,“ (y/n) cried out his name, his hands placed on her behind, stabilizing her movement. (Y/n) kept on gridding her core against his length, slowly bouncing on his member, engulfed by the hot water.

Their pent up anxiety, frustration and love began to spill out of them, pushing them closer to the edge faster than ever. “I love you,“ both moaned at the same time, chuckling as their lips found one another.

Draco thrusted his hips upwards, meeting her wetness, burying himself even deeper, stretching her even further, making her fall right into the crashing wave of her orgasm. “Fuck so good,“ Draco moaned, releasing himself into her heat, forehead pressed against hers, hands not letting go of her skin.

“I love you,“ Draco repeated, (y/n) ran her hands through his hair. „I love you too Draco Malfoy.“

#draco malfoy #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy one shot #hogwarts #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter smut #tom felton #slytherin #triwizard tournament

1K notes · View notes

startanewdream · 3 years

Text

For the Hinny Ficfest lovely organized by @clarensjoy, here’s the second drabble set during Christmas of Year 6, with Harry doing some good old pining.

70. "Mum thinks I'm dating you" (and Harry wishes she was right)

Ginny throws herself on the cnouch next to Harry, eyes closed. Harry tries not to show any reaction, though it’s hard — her presence comes with that intoxicating flowery scent and he can’t help but inhale deeply, even as he keeps his gaze forward. He doesn’t need to turn to her anyway — he’s been stealing glances in her direction all day, enjoying the contrast between her new dark green sweater and her flaming red hair, or the flush that came to the cream colour of her skin as she had worked on her broomstick all afternoon.

‘Mum thinks we are dating’, she announces, making him jump.

Harry turns to look at her now, surprise flashing upon his face.

‘W-what?’, he splutters, feeling his face reddening. Ginny is smirking, amused, though Harry doesn’t know if it is because of his reaction or because of her mother’s wrong idea.

Harry wishes Mrs. Weasley was correct on that assumption, but alas he is not the one who gets to say he is dating Ginny.

'Secretly dating, mind you. Very naughty of us'.

'I — we —', Harry stops, his brain frozen at the idea of dating Ginny and "naughty" in the same context. He forces himself to breath, which, with her perfume in the air, does nothing to help him clear his mind. 'How come?'

‘She saw your Christmas gift’, Ginny explains. Harry gulps, unsure.

‘I didn’t - I’m sorry if - I wasn’t -’

‘Harry’, Ginny interrupts him, smiling kinder now. ‘You did nothing wrong. I loved that Broomstick Servicing Kit, I truly needed one’.

Harry nods now; Ginny had already thanked him for that gift, beaming at him before breakfast, and Harry had felt relieved. He had spent hours thinking of what to give her for Christmas, not daring to ask for Ron or Hermione’s help, until he ended up choosing something that was not too intimate but also useful. Ginny loved Quidditch more than anyone he knew, so he had figured out she would like a gift about it.

‘It’s my fault’, she adds distractedly. ‘I kept talking to Dad about your gift and how it was my favourite, but I also had to defend Dean’s gift to Ron this morning, and somehow Mum thought that my boyfriend had give me this kit, so -’

‘So she thought I was your boyfriend’, Harry summarizes, forcing the grimace on his face to look more like a smile, as if he thinks the whole situation is just funny and not miserable.

Ginny shrugs. ‘It’s kind of my fault, I guess. I wasn’t exactly showing off the gift Dean gave me’.

‘What it was?’

She sighs. ‘A ring’.

He feels his mouth drying. ‘Ring? Like a -’

‘No, no engagement or a promise ring’, she adds hurriedly, with a panic on her face that somehow calms Harry. ‘Just a normal cute ring, but — it’s not really my thing. Jewels. Especially not rings, they make me feel —’

‘Constricted’, he guesses. Ginny raises one eyebrow. ‘Same as you don’t like to wear scarves or you always let the first button of your shirt open’.

There is a short silence. Harry suddenly feels embarrassed — maybe he said too much? (Maybe Ginny realized he has stared at her neckline too much?)— but after a while she just nods.

‘Yeah, well. I explained to Mum that you aren’t my boyfriend, but I’m not sure she believed me — she had this weird thought’.

‘What thought?’

‘That we’ve been together a lot’.

‘Well’, Harry starts, hoping to sound reasonable and not as if he needs to reinforce to Ginny all the reasons they would work together. ‘That’s true. More than before. We spent a lot of time together during summer’.

It’s not hard to remember all those afternoons he spent with Ginny alone in the orchards, flying with her, long after Ron and Hermione had retired back to the Burrow; or those early mornings when they went for a run that often than not would turn into a stroll as they just talked about anything on their minds.

Harry wishes he had known better then to truly appreciate those moments with Ginny — perhaps things could be different between them if only he wasn’t so oblivious…

‘We are friends’, Ginny notes. Harry sighs heavily, facing front again.

‘That’s us. Friends’.

‘Can you imagine how she would react if we were dating?’, asks Ginny, her voice inviting him to share the joke with him.

Harry knows what she is teasing about and he knows he should just laugh at the idea of how Mrs. Weasley would fuss at the idea of Harry dating her young daughter, or how she might treat them like Bill and Fleur and suddenly get worried about the idea of them spending time together alone.

But none of it looks bad. Mrs. Weasley’s happiness of them being together would be nothing like the happiness that Harry thinks he would feel if Ginny returned his feelings; he imagines holding hands with her during this winter break, ending their Quidditch discussions with a snogging session in the broom shed or meeting her for sharing a chocolate and a good night kiss in the kitchen.

And yet she looks at him now so friendly and teasingly that this dream seems very far away.

‘It wouldn’t be the worst thing’, he says, avoiding her eyes, and not saying what he really wants: he would endure anything, including Mrs. Weasley’s tearful happiness and limits and the twins’ jokes if only he got the chance of dating Ginny and all that comes with it.

Ginny stays silent, though, and Harry wonders if he said something wrong, or, worse, if she understood exactly what’s on his mind. She always had a knack for seeing through him —

But Ginny laughs after a moment. ‘It wouldn’t’, she agrees, her voice light, raising and patting him in the shoulder. ‘But you wouldn’t be that lucky’.

He is gone before he can answer her, but for once he doesn’t mind, thinking about what she said. Lucky — and he happens to have a lucky potion on his truck right now. Hum… maybe he only needs a little drop of luck...

#Hinny FicFest #Hinny Fanfic #Missing Moments #Pining Harry

248 notes · View notes

heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

Text

Bundle of joy [Sirius Black x Reader] ['What they call home' OS] - Requested

Title: Bundle of joy Pairing: Sirius Black x Lestrange!Female!Reader Word count: 1.4k Published: 9 May, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: When you realise there’s a little baby growing in your belly, it terrifies you. Both you and Sirius had a rough childhood and now that there’s a new life inside you, your ability to raise a child concerns you, especially as you’re in the middle of a war. Notes: Part of the series What they call home, but can be read separately. Request: [x] by Anonymous

"Because I love Drama and the Lestrange X Sirius so much - Could you do an extra OS where Lestrange tells him that she is pregnant? Before that she is very distant (Generally afraid of the pregnancy and afraid of becoming like her parents as a mother) and often met a healer from the Order to ask what she is allowed to do/ not to do. 😊 (Of course only if you have time to do it)"

Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes

Square filled: Fix it fic

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

It’s been 2 weeks. 2 whole weeks since you found out. 14 days exactly. 336 hours, 20160 minutes, 1209600 seconds. However you kept calculating, it still felt like forever. There was no doubt, no way to avoid the inevitable. As you walked out of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, you were trying to grasp the idea of having a tiny human growing in your belly. A life that you were to nurture for the next 7 months within you. You were supposed to be happy, full of life, planning creative ways to tell all your loved ones. But how could you. The only thoughts that came to you were anything but positive. Your parents made your life a living hell, your bothers were death eaters and as difficult it was to admit it, you were one of them, even though you didn’t agree with their views.

How were you supposed to raise a child when the only examples you have been taught were how to hate? How were you to raise a child when you didn’t even know how to hold one? But most of all, how were you to tell Sirius, the man who meant more to you than anyone in your life? Children or family for that matter never came up in your conversations. You just couldn’t imagine walking up to him, stating your findings as simple facts. The man would have gotten a heart attack.

You were seated in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with a steaming cup of tea in one hand and an enchanted polaroid photo of a tiny smudge that barely even resembled a baby just yet. You jumped in your seat as you heard the entrance door open and quickly hid the photo in your pocket. It wasn’t the right time, you weren’t ready to tell him just yet.

Sirius walked towards the kitchen, halting in the doorway, peeking in the room to catch a sight of you. “Hello, love,” he called with a soft smile across his face. As he approached you, his steps felt heavy and uncertain. But it was no surprise to you. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked as he stepped beside you and hinted a small kiss on the top of your hair, but once again, just like you have done many times before, you pulled away from him.

“I’m— I’m good,” you replied with a faux smile, trying to stop him from worrying, but you knew he realised your distant behaviour. He kneeled beside your chair, getting hold of your hands, holding them gently, drawing little circles on your knuckles.

“I know something is wrong. I know you are trying to hide something. If you are not ready to tell me, that is fine, but please don’t lie to me,” he pleaded with you as he left a small kiss on the back of your hand, reassuring you that he was ready to wait for you to open up.

“I just need you to give me a bit more time,” you whispered, your breath shaky and uncertain as you squeezed Sirius’ hands.

“As long as you need,” he offered you a sweet and genuine smile as he let go of your hands and cupped your cheeks, kissing you on your lips. His mere touch always made you feel safe, as though nothing could ever hurt you. But you knew in that moment that you were more afraid than ever.

“I wish that was true,” you sighed heavily, averting your eyes. “I’m scared, Sirius,” you exhaled, leaning forward and placing your forehead in the crook of his neck.

“Love, what are you afraid of?” He asked in confusion, running his hand through the back of your hair, trying to sooth your worries.

“Will I be like them?” You asked, earning a questioning humming sound from Sirius. “Like my parents. Will I be as horrible as them? I’m their blood after all,” you heaved a heavy sigh, your breath hitching as tears started escaping down your cheeks, soaking Sirius’ thick coat.

“Where is this coming from?” He asked, stunned. “You are nothing like your parents or your brothers. You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met, both inside and out. And if you don’t believe me, ask yourself, have I ever lied to you? As far as I’m concerned, I have not. You are nothing like your family. Can you please tell me where all this is coming from? You are making me really worried,” he pleaded with you as he hinted a small kiss on your temple.

“Do you really think I’m nothing like them?” You asked as you leaned back to look into his smoky eyes, needing reassurance.

“Anything but, love,” he replied with a soft smile, hoping to cheer you up, earning a small smile from you.

“Sirius— erm, I was thinking— what do you think about children?” You tried to bring up the subject as softly as you could. If you could, you could have delayed the inevitable, but as he kneeled in front of you with a worried look across his face, you knew you couldn’t leave him in the dark any longer.

“Children?” He asked with a deep frown across his brows, your question catching him off guard. “I like them, I guess. I mean I have a really good relationship with Harry, Ron and Hermione and it seems little Teddy likes me too,” he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“And what do you think about having your own child?” You questioned, feeling your heart took on a faster pace, your palms sweating in your nervous state.

His eyes widened, your question surprising him. “What— what do you mean?” He asked stuttering, but you just bit on your lower lip and let your head fall forward whilst playing with your fingers. “Hold on a minute, do you mean— as in you and me— are we going to be parents?” He asked with a shocked expression, lips widely parted, eyes growing round. You weren’t sure what to say, how to say it or what would be the right words to use, so instead you nodded. “Is there going to be a little you and me— a miniature us running around?” He repeated as if needing further reassurance, he didn’t misinterpret your gesture.

“Yes— there is going to be a little one running around in approximately 7 months,” you replied with an awkward smile as you placed your hand on your belly, with the other reaching for the photo in your pocket. He took it from you, his face turning pale for a second, realisation hitting him hard, before his lips started curving up into a small smile.

“That— that is absolutely brilliant,” he began to chuckle as a wide grin spread across his face. “Just imagine what a handful he or she is going to be,” he laughed.

“Are you not afraid?” You asked.

“Of what exactly?” He furrowed his brows.

“Of us not being good parents? We are both from families that do not have a good record in providing a loving home,” you voiced your concerns.

“Not at all,” he smiled proudly. “If anything, we know best what we were missing and what we would like to do for that little one. We can use the lack of love we had as an advantage, because now we know how important it is for a child to be brought up in a healthy, loving family,” he took your hand in his, gently squeezing it.

“But Sirius, we are in the middle of a war,” you retorted, still unsure of your ability of bringing up a child.

“We are in the middle of a war now and we were in the middle of a war over a decade ago. You can’t stop the circle of life because of evil people. Don’t think about all the negativities. Think about the fact that I love you, you love me, and we will have a beautiful bundle of joy who we will love just as much,” a content smile spread across Sirius’ face. “At least little Teddy will have a playmate,” he chuckled playfully as he pulled you up into a standing position and sneaked his arms around your waist. “I love you and I already love that little ankle-biter more than anything,” he whispered into your ear.

“I have no idea how I got to be so lucky to have you,” you replied with tears filling up your eyes.

“Those better be happy tears,” he raised a questioning brow, his foolish smile still plastered across his face.

“Only,” you chuckled as you cupped his face and pulled him down to meet your lips halfway. “I love you so much,” you breathed against his lips, before you closed the gap between the two of you once again.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglists are in reblog from now on

#girl next door’s make me feel bingo #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black one shot #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader one shot #sirius black x reader fanfiction #sirius black x reader imagine #sirius black x lestrange!reader #lestrange #lestrange!reader #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader

254 notes · View notes

sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

38. Set it up, break it up

For everyone who's been supportive of these| fluff |making out |harry set draco up with someone Only to realise he liked draco all along |

" when was your first time ?" Seamus smugly asked Draco as he drank his butter beer from across the room sprawled over the bean bag

" I will prefer not to answer the question. It is highly confidential and that information shall only be revealed to Someone I'm with. So dear Seamus you can enjoy asking this question to other, while I would refuse to answer " Draco sophisticatedly replied, tilting his head to put on more emphasis upon his words.

" Merlin, you could've just said I'm not answering that. No need to go all Shakespearian " Ron rolled his eyes at Draco.

Harry chuckled as he joined Draco over the couch, putting his legs over Draco's laps, not that either of them ever minded that physical touch " that's Draco for you. He'll never give a direct answer. I can bet, if he were in an English Muggle class, he'd top "

" I topped nonetheless " Draco rolled his eyes, his hands automatically falling into a pattern of softly stroke the bottom of Harry's leg, a habit he's grown attached to.

" really? From what I remember I got 7 owls while you got only 6. It's just as if I was infact better than you " Harry smirked

" whatever Harry. I was the headboy " Draco rolled his eyes at harry, yet again but then again he liked these small bickerings with him. Blaise eyed them from the corner of the room, enjoying it himself, not Daring to say anything.

" and I was given the opportunity, I just denied "

" as if "

" whatever helps you sleep at night darling" Harry teased as he pinched Draco's cheeks softly

" don't " Draco growled as he swatted Harry's hand away

" one angry kitten aren't you " Harry chuckled, picking up his can of butter beer and drinking it.

" don't call me that " Draco sneered, not in a furious way, just slightly threatening way.

" anywaysss " Seamus echoed, breaking off their not so private conversation " when was your first time harry ?"

" Ron, you might wanna cover your ears for this one " Harry chuckled. Ron gave him a look but refused to do so " it was after war, when I got back with Ginny, in the time we were going out for a short time "

" what about in 6th year ?" Dean asked snuggling closer to Seamus on the bean bag

" we couldn't really ever get to it. I mean for one neither of us were ready, and we were just kids. Although when we did it after we got back together, we realised almost instantly it wasn't something we enjoyed, not that part, just with opposite sex kind of thing. Well mostly her, no offense. Or it could've been we weren't just attracted to each other that way " Harry explained

" really ? I always thought you guys would work out you know " Dean said. Harry looked at Dean amused but didn't say anything.

" I never thought you guys would end up together really. Never seemed as if so " Seamus added

" interest me in why ?" Harry asked

" it just, I always knew you were sort of bi even before you started going with Ginny. It was Evident really sometimes. And with Ginny herself, she didn't seem like a person to be with a guy. I mean coming from I figured my sexuality really early on, I just sometimes knew it.. besides after the first time you guys broke up, it seemed almost impossible for it work later on " Seamus explained. Everyone including Draco thought about what he had said and nobody could even deny that it was a lie.

" what's your dating track anyway right now Harry ?" Blaise asked standing over the chair behind Ron.

" oh it's not that bad. I do go out on a few dates. I went on a date last week infact and believe me that guy was really good, dashing, almost ced- well Cedric diggory Kinda hot but right in the middle of the date, I feel something going up my leg. I almost choked on my Tuna fish and he goes, do you like it ? I was more shocked than anything else. It was weird if anything "

" so what next ?"

" I didn't call him back. I think somewhere along the date, he might've said he had feet fetish.. he would much rather make love to my feets than me and it was just plainly weird "

" people have all different sorts of fetishes " Ron frowned

" yeah, I respect them but feet fetishes just creeps me out " Harry almost shivered at the thought of it.

And everyone soon fell into talking about weirdest kinks and fetishes, something they all were rather amused to be in conversation about, except, Harry.

Draco stopped stroking Harry's leg for a moment to softly clutch on them to seek his attention.

" it's alright Harry.. you can't change anything.. besides I think he lived a good life" Draco softly said.

" I still can't forget though. It's almost as if I can still see it happening in front of my eyes " Harry Whispered back.

" I know. He was a brave guy though. You can't do anything anymore. I'm sure- he'd want you to get over it too " Draco whispered. Harry bit his lip softly before nodding. To provide comfort, Draco again started stroking Harry's legs.

" feels nice" Harry smiled at Draco, who simply smiled back.

" talking off that, what say about going on a date with someone ?" Harry asked Draco but had inevitably grabbed attention from a few others in the room.

Draco raised his eyebrows in strange surprise " really ?"

" I met some guy at the animal shop across the street. He seemed like someone you could date " Harry replied

" why me, why not you ?" Draco defensively asked

" well, he's not my type but he's yours and he did seem to notice you with me a couple of days ago, so I thought maybe you could talk to him and see if you'd like to go out with him " Harry suggested.

Draco frowned at harry before clearing his throat " I'll pay that animal shop a visit then "

" great " Harry grinned

" I'm gonna use the loo " Draco sighed and got up abruptly

" unbelievable " Blaise announced. Harry looked around the room to receive strange looks " what are you all staring at me for ?" Harry asked confused

But nobody responded except that most of them groaned, leaving Harry more confused. Draco returned a few minutes, chatted a bit and then left claiming he had to feed his cat.

As a few weeks goes on by, Harry discovered that draco did started going with the guy he had told him about and was infact in a happy place to be with him. And it was all fun and games until Harry was offended that Draco no longer gave him that much time anymore or the fact that he kept cancelling on him over and over or that he longer was interested in watching movies with harry but sure had fun plans with his so called boyfriend or the guy he's dating, he cared no less. By which he meant, he did cared. To say his friends were tired of Harry ranting on about Draco cancelling on him that one time Ron even put up muffalito charm on him. It was splendid how things were going, in a sarcastic way of course until Draco decided it was time for him to make everyone meet his boyfriend, and harry wanted to burn himself on flames.

" I frankly don't understand why the expensive dinner, I mean, couldn't he had just invited us to his place or his so called boyfriend's place " Harry vented air quoting boyfriend

" Harry you were the one who set him up in the first place, stop being mad at him and jealous not to mention " Hermione rolled her eyes eating the chips off the packet

" jealous, I'm not jealous " Harry defensively said

" sure " Ron rolled his eyes.

" look Harry, you're clearly jealous that he isn't spending as much as time with you and its bothering you, so just talk to him about it " Hermione suggested shrugging her shoulder

" look, I don't know what's cooking in both of your brains but I'm-not-jealous " harry slammed the cloth over the counter and went inside his bedroom

" I miss the time when he wasn't such a dramatic ass " Ron taunted

" I can hear you " Harry yelled from inside the room, hearing faint whispers from Ron and Hermione in the living room..

And the truth infact was that Harry was jealous, which he Only discovered over the dinner when Draco was practically almost all over him that harry wanted to tell him to just sit in his lap, didn't of course. And to make it worse, he was jealous of how good they actually looked, which resulted in harry losing his appetite and almost groaning every five minutes. Hermione had to kick him under the table to behave a couple of times.

Spending the night in his thoughts, Harry came across things he wished he had known earlier or things he never felt but whatever it was, he felt frustrated in himself to set Draco up and he had no idea what to do next, so he decided to take advice from the only man he knew the best was at.

" Harry ? What a pleasant surprise. Ron's not at home though " Blaise said as he opened the door for him

" I actually came here to talk to you " Harry sighed as he went in. Blaise frowned in surprise before walking behind Harry himself

" well what can I interest you in, a joke, a mimickery,-"

" an advice actually " Harry groaned as he slumped down on the couch.

" oh- Ron's better at that-"

" he isn't, he told me to talk to you " Harry replied. Blaise walked into the kitchen, opening the window to the living room to converse through the kitchen.

" did he ? What can I help you with then ?" Blaise asked as he poured water for Harry and walking in to give it to him.

" I think, that I might have feelings for Draco" Harry replied

" you are officially the last person to know that " Blaise chuckled as he walked back into the kitchen and fetched something to eat.

" what ? You guys knew that ?" Harry sat uptight

" of course " Blaise scrunched his eyebrows as an obvious face

" why didn't you guys tell me ?" Harry asked agitated with his friends

" because these are the things we're not supposed to tell you, you're the one supposed to tell us, you dimwit " Blaise rolled his eyes, throwing his hands in the air.

" well you could've at least warned me " Harry groaned

" how could you not have known !! When did you even figure It out anyways?" Blaise asked as he shut the cabinet for the last time, bringing a packet of cookies and chips with him and slumping down in front of Harry.

" I think I've known for a bit since he started going out, but last night i was pretty confirmed that I was jealous " Harry Told him

" well I'd like to say you are that ruined your chances but guessing you came for advice, you came here to know how to fix it and I'll tell you, I do not have even the slightest idea how to fix your shit soup "

" what ?" Harry emphasised

" Harry, you yourself set him up with someone almost exactly like you. If Draco even Liked you at some point, now he knows that you don't like him and he's probably moved on and supposedly happy in his newfound relationship "

" Blaise, If I wanted to listen to how I fucked it up I wouldn't had come to you. I need to know how can I fix this " harry sarcastically responded raising his eyebrows

" look the easiest way is to simply confess or move on. I can't help you harry even if I wanted to. Draco seems happy " Blaise told him emphatically.

Harry was disappointed but knew Blaise was right, there was possibly nothing he could've done to make it right, at least not something that would sabotage their relationship.

It took harry a couple more days to become normal with the fact that draco was dating and finally paving his way to move on, which was definitely hard. And harry could've assumed he was doing good until Draco invited him for a picnic, claiming they haven't gotten out individually in a while. Normally harry would've been very ecstatic about it but considering the phase he was going through it was hard but didn't deny his sweet offer.

" took you a bit long- and your boyfriend's here too " harry pressed his lips in a thin line when he saw them coming together.

"it was just us but his plans got cancelled last moment so he tagged alone.. i hope you don't mind " Draco plead guilty

Harry sighed before giving him a firm smile and nodding " it's going to be one hell of a day "

Halfway through the picnic, harry Would've assumed he would be the thrid wheel but it was infact quite opposite, his boyfriend, jake was infact the third wheel who basically had no idea about draco's life which surprised harry a little more than it should have.

" you- jake, you alright ?" Harry asked looking over draco's shoulder at his boyfriend who looked puzzled

" what? I'm fine, just thinking " he gave them a firm smile.. draco leaned a bit into jake as if to give him the feeling he was still here but jake rejected it, much to draco's surprise.

" what you thinking about ?" Harry asked furrowing his eyebrows.

" what exactly I'm doing here?-"

" shit- I'm sorry for making you feel as if I'm intruding-"

" no, it's not that. It's just so clear that you both are so meant to be together, yet here I am on a picnic with two people who are supposed to be together but are not because of me-"

" that's not true " draco interjected

" is it not ? " Jake asked more firmly than before, not forgetting to give a smile so as to not sound harsh.

Draco opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.

" even if it is true for me, I don't think Draco feels that way . Besides you guys are dating, I don't want to be the reason for your break up" harry replied sympathetically

" you're not harry. I just- I can see it, maybe you two are blind but I'm not.. Enjoy yourselves " jake said as he abruptly stood up

" jake don't be like that " draco too stood up

Jake sighed taking draco's hands in his own " I'll stay if you admit you don't have any feelings for him, if you've never wanted to be with him, if you've felt anything closer to what you feel for him about Me. Admit it freely and I'll stay"

But draco couldn't say anything..

" thought so. I'd be fine by the way. I don't think I've seen two people belonging to each more than you two " and jake departed.

Draco stood there a few minutes watching him walk away, his shoulder slouched as if not believing that he'd just been dumped.

" draco-"

" you're a jerk " draco turned around

" what ?" Harry asked confused

" you're an insolent jerk " draco picked up from dry leaves from the ground and hitting harry with that.

" what the fuck did I do ?" Harry shielded himself as draco threw more and more leaves and grasses

" you fucking moron, you were Flirting with me " draco huffed stopping for a moment

" I wasn't flirting " harry whined. Draco gave him a look before picking up more leaves and throwing it at him

" okay, okay. I was but hey it's your fault to go along with it " harry stumbled back over the ground

" well it's not my fault if you're bloody good at it "

" is it my fault that you enjoyed and I'm not the only victim here, you were flirting too " harry looked up at Draco from the ground

" I wasn't flirting " draco narrowed his eyes. Harry hooked his leg around that of draco, making him trip over and fall over harry, who he instantly rolled over, pinning draco to ground.

" were you not ?" Harry breathed

" it doesn't matter-"

" you were flirting back" harry commanded

" okay, fine I was but you had no right- hmph" draco moaned softly as harry kissed him over the lips, kissing until the need for oxygen finally had made sense again.

" now tell me, how long have you wanted this?" Harry huffed.

Draco rolled his eyes, still pink from all the kissing " I haven't wanted this "

" okay " harry frowned as he leaned down, his lips lightly brushing over that of draco's " you sure ?" Harry asked not moving an inch closer or further

Draco's breath choked down, desperately wanting to lean forward to kiss him again but didn't to avoid giving harry the satisfaction of having the upper hand.

" you don't want me to kiss you again then? That's right yeah " harry whispered as he bit Draco's lower lip, earning a soft moan and his body involuntarily pressed against harry's

" seems otherwise " harry whispered.

" merlin " draco moaned. Smirking harry pulled away looking at Draco from a distance.

Sucking his cheeks, draco immediately pulled harry to him and kissed him again, this time in more desperation and rush.

" guess who's got the upper hand now " draco moaned as he freed his hands and put them in his hair.

" you" harry chuckled, Thoroughly enjoying kissing draco himself.

" jerk " draco chuckled

" you're the jerk " harry chuckled

" and you broke his heart " harry whispered against his lips smiling

" eh, he always knew it anyways " draco shrugged

" you really are a jerk then " harry smiled as he pulled away a bit, admiring draco.

" and you're the jerk who just broke my relationship and has basically manipulated me into kissing you " draco raised an eyebrow amusingly

" I don't regret it " harry regret

" me either " draco smiled and leaned in again.

Requests open

Day 37- you're my home, draco | Day 39- cuddle me in

107 notes · View notes

lxngbottom · 3 years

Text

Mute. | N.L (Part 3)

in which the reader doesn’t talk, and neville finally changes that.

warnings: bullying, swearing (lmk if there are more!)

word count: 3,504

okay final part hahaha i just really love protective neville PLS

PART 2 HERE!

—

neville cursed her name as he walked at their meeting spot.

‘damn her for being so amazing.’

if he thought he couldn’t get y/n off of his mind before, this was completely different. y/n was the only thing that ran through his mind. it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t even sleep without dreaming of your face, and your small giggle that he loved so much.

and that smile. that fucking smile.

merlin, he was head over for y/n y/l/n.

the last couple of weeks the pair had hung out almost every single day. at first, y/n went back to not speaking the first couple of days, but finally, neville brought up a story about how he almost fell off of the moving staircases, and she laughed and told him a similar story.

it had only been just the two of them, and neville couldn’t seem to get enough. on days when they wouldn’t hang out, he would just sit in the common room, bored out of his mind. only having thoughts of you and what you were reading the library that day.

as neville looked at his watch, he felt something poking his arm. he turned his head, and met eyes with the girl of the hour,

“oh, hey y/n.” he greeted her sweetly, a smile forming onto his face. he couldn’t help but to always smile when he was around her, he assumed it was just the comforting energy that she gave off.

“hi.” she responded shyly, still getting used to talking all the time. “your tie is messed up...”

neville furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, attempting to snap himself out of getting lost in how gentle her voice was. but he finally looked down at his tie, and chuckled nervously,

“oh, didn’t even notice. thanks,”

she smiled lightly at him, feeling warmth go to her cheeks. in the past few weeks she had gotten to know neville, she realized that she may have developed her first ever crush. she loved how he spoke, how much emotion he put into every word he uttered. and plus, he was absolutely adorable in her eyes. she started to wish that she had met him sooner. but, she also had to remind herself that neville would never fancy her. even though he wasn’t the most social himself, people still liked him. and how on earth out of all the girls that he could be with in this school, he would choose her?

it was simple. he wouldn’t.

the pair began to walk to the great hall, like they had done together almost every morning. y/n informed neville that she had in fact done some research on gillyweed,

“i think it could come in handy at some point. like, in this one poem i read, this boy was trying to find treasure at the bottom of the ocean, but it was really deep and—“

y/n looked over at neville, and noticed his eyes. she quickly stopped her rambling, “never mind. that’s dumb...”

neville almost let out an audible scoff at her words. he wanted to listen to every word she had to say for the rest of his life. “no, keep going. i’m interested!”

y/n hid her face behind her books once again, nervous to show her small smile. “it’s okay. the stuff i read isn’t that—“

“y/n.” he stopped her, and she looked up at him once more. “just keep talking.”

she reluctantly nodded, surprised at how the tone in his voice changed. but, she kept talking anyways.

—

as the two arrived into the great hall, y/n automatically began to walk away from neville. she hated the thought of him being seen with her, and being made fun of for it. plus, she couldn’t bring herself sit with him and his friends.

neville watched as she walked ahead of him, and he frowned. he had offered to give her a seat beside himself, dean, and seamus, but she turned it down. he had an idea of why, but that didn’t mean it bothered him any less.

“wait, y/n!”

y/n stopped on her feet, and turned her body. he walked up to her once again,

“you should sit with me today,”

the simple statement made y/n’s body tremble. no. she couldn’t. she wouldn’t.

“i don’t like seeing you sit by yourself. and, i like to think you’re my... fri—friend now.” he stuttered out, not too keen on just being her friend. “it’s only me a couple of my friends. i promise.”

y/n glanced up at him, and then at the four boys who were sitting where neville usually sat. when she looked at him again, she shook her head.

“i-i-i can’t...”

neville sighed, and pushed her books down so he could fully see her face.

“you can, y/n. i promise.”

for one moment, y/n felt as if it was just the two of them. that this great hall, they had it all to themselves. maybe they would slow dance to no music like she had read in one of her novels. maybe he would kiss her and whisper how beautiful she was in her ear.

a girl could dream.

y/n looked back at neville’s friends one more time, still terrified. but, the look on his eyes assured her that she would be okay.

“um... o—okay.”

he smiled widely at her, teeth and all. and he grabbed her bag, and started walking towards the familiar seating area. y/n sighed, mentally preparing herself for what was about to happen. she began to over think as she approached the boys. they hadn’t even noticed her yet, too busy talking about what boys talk about.

neville set her bag down on the table, and noticed harry and ron sitting with dean and seamus,

“hey guys, where’s hermione?” neville asked,

“not sure. studying for a test today or something like that. i don’t usually keep up on—“

ron had begun to answer, but when he looked up, he locked eyes with a familiar figure. his eyes went wide a bit, and he hit harry’s leg under the table. harry then looked up, and smiled at the girl.

“hey, y/n. how are you?”

y/n was a bit shocked from harry’s question, as he was one of the only few people who had ever attempted to speak to her. they shared plenty of classes together, and y/n always felt bad for him when they got paired up for an assignment.

the name rang throughout seamus and dean’s ears, and they looked up as well. she sent them a small wave, still keeping her mouth closed.

she sat down beside neville, listening in on the small chatter between the five boys. but, she decided on reading her herbology book instead. neville wasn’t going to put any pressure on her to talk to them, but he just wanted her to have some company at breakfast.

as time went by, y/n’s nerves seemed to come to a halt. she was too lost into her book to even understand what the boys were saying.

“what book is that?” seamus asked her suddenly, and she looked up at him through hooded eyes. he didn’t necessarily expect a response, but he couldn’t help but to let his curiosity take over.

she flipped the book up, showing him the front cover, “merlin, don’t tell me longbottom has gotten you into reading books about plants!”

the boys chucked, and neville scratched his neck in embarrassment. y/n simply shrugged at the irish boy, still a bit scared to respond. she then reached her hand over to grab a piece of toast, and they watched her intently as she did so. it was the most human thing that they had ever seen her do besides reading a book.

dean furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down at her wrist, “that bracelet is really cool. where’d you get it?”

neville looked over at her, seeing the way her face dropped from dean’s question. y/n looked back at him, hoping to get some sort of comfort. and of course, he provided her with just that. he nodded his head, encouraging her it seemed.

“erm...” she began, mindlessly playing with the same bracelet, “m—my mum... she m-makes them...”

seamus’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets, as well as the other three boys. she had just talked. they felt like they were looking at a blue moon,

“that’s cool! maybe you could get your mum to make one for me?” dean joked, flashing her a toothy smile. y/n smiled back at him, but quickly looked back down to hide her face.

neville nudged her side, and got closer to her ear. “i think you’re doing pretty good.”

the compliment made her cheeks warm up even worse, and the rosy color had to be visible at this point.

for the rest of breakfast, y/n didn’t read her book. she sat up, listened to the boy’s conversations. she even corrected seamus’s grammar at one point, to which he said:

“she talks once and now she’s trying to teach me how to speak!”

neville was about to kick his friend under the table, but stopped when he heard her giggle from the joke. the other boys joined in with her, and neville eventually.

y/n finally felt like she belonged somewhere. and for once, she didn’t mind not being alone.

—

as the school day went by, students attended their classes, y/n had never felt more happy in her whole life. and, it was noticeable from other students. she didn’t speak, but the smile on her face spoke a thousand words.

y/n skipped out potions, relived to finally be free from professor snape’s grasp. she wanted to go the library and research quidditch. all of the guys had been talking about it earlier that morning, and y/n realized that she knew absolutely nothing about it. she had never even been to a match before.

but, what y/n didn’t know, is that her day was about to change drastically:

“hey, mute!”

y/n stopped in her tracks, already recognizing the taunting voice. she chose to ignore him, though. she kept walking, but she only heard the sound of fast footsteps behind her. she then saw a familiar fluff of white hair, walk in front of her, stopping her once more.

“what are you reading? “how to properly speak?”” malfoy joked, leaning over to read the covers of her books. “oh! a quidditch book, huh? you wouldn’t happen to fancy one of the quidditch players would you now, mute?”

y/n shook her head, as that wasn’t the truth at all.

“i saw you talking to longbottom earlier, today. you guys would make a great couple. the lard and the mute... ha! quite funny, actually!”

y/n of course didn’t respond, only looked down at her feet.

“i’m quite parched, mute. how about you?” y/n looked up at him, and furrowed her eyebrows.

malfoy had always said the most random things to her. she was surprised he was even in the top rank of their class. he was a blithering idiot in her eyes.

“pumpkin juice?” he asked, but it sounded more like an offer.

and in that moment, y/n felt the feeling of liquid pouring onto her head. it began to fall down her face, onto her clothes, just everywhere on her physical body. she heard laughter from the students that had passed by.

there was silence for a moment. y/n wiped the sticky pumpkin juice out of her eyes, and from her lips as well. she narrowed her eyes at malfoy, who stood grinning in front of her as the liquid continued to drip on her.

“still parched? maybe you’ll be able to speak now, mute!” y/n heard from behind her. pansy parkinson stepped beside malfoy, and crossed her arms in triumph.

silence.

y/n didn’t move a single inch, her body still relaying in the shock from the situation. her emotions felt as if they were about to burst from her, and she felt like she could scream.

“hey, what’s going on?” dean asked his friends, tapping neville’s shoulder. the three looked down the hall, and saw a large group of students in a circle.

“maybe someone is about to fight! come on!” seamus rushed his friends, already sprinting down the hall. dean and neville followed quickly, and soon enough, they joined in the circle, pushing their way up to the front.

but what they were met with wasn’t a fight, nor a simple argument. it was something much worse.

y/n, covered head to toe in pumpkin juice.

draco and pansy stood right in front of her, taunting her. neville’s fists clenched as he put the pieces together, and he swore he thought he was about to jump on top of malfoy.

“this isn’t good...” seamus muttered to dean, and the boy nodded his head in agreement as they all continued to watch.

malfoy stepped closer to her, the smell of pumpkin filling his nostrils. “hey, at least you’ll taste nice if someone kisses you. which, is highly unlikely, but who knows?”

in that moment, y/n couldn’t swallow anymore. she couldn’t keep the words down. they were coming out whether she wanted them to or not,

“fuck. you.”

students gasped, other’s eyes widened. mute had spoken, and everyone had heard it.

a mantra of “oooo’s” left the mouths of draco’s friends, but malfoy, he was in pure disbelief. “wow! she speaks!” he laughed, still shocked. “guess all you needed was some pumpkin juice to make your mouth move, isn’t that right, mute?”

all of the anger that y/n had pent up due to malfoy was reaching the surface, and if you looked close enough, you could practically see the steam coming out of her ears.

y/n never was impulsive, nor did she ever really fight back in situations like these. but, the simple disrespect of it all had her fired up, and she wouldn’t rest until she did something about it.

“malfoy,” she began softly, and he hummed in response.

“think fast!”

before malfoy knew it, the same quidditch book collided into his face. his head fell back, and he ended up losing balance. he groaned in pain, and felt blood dripping from his nose.

students around them bursted into laughter, and y/n’s eyes widened from what she had just done. parkinson snarled at the girl, attempting to help the blonde up. y/n giggled when she saw the blood pouring from his nose, and malfoy caught it.

“you think this is funny?!” he yelled, stepping closer to her once more, and y/n suddenly noticed mcgonagall rushing over towards the large group. she began to dash away, pumpkin juice and all still stuck to her body. malfoy continued to yell vile things at her, making sure to ensure that she would regret this day.

y/n sprinted through the halls, and finally settled on hiding in a prefect bathroom.

she quickly found herself standing in front of a mirror, staring at herself. she let out a small chuckle from how she looked, the pumpkin juice still prominent.

usually in scenarios like this, y/n would run and hide away in the library to cry. but, not this time. as a matter of fact, there wasn’t an inch of her that had the desire to cry. if anything, she felt... happy.

she had finally stood up for herself. it may have been in an impulsive, immature way, but, she still did it. and in her eyes, that’s all that truly mattered.

y/n began to clean her face off, hissing as the paper towel rubbed on her dried skin. she cursed draco malfoy’s name as she attempted to get the sticky liquid out of her eyebrows. because yes, the pumpkin juice had gotten stuck in them.

“y/n?”

the voice made y/n jump, and she turned around to see who it was.

“oh... hi, neville.”

he smiled at her, relieved that she was still talking.

“i didn’t mean to scare you. i just—i saw what happened... and was worried about you.”

y/n couldn’t help but to blush from his kindness. he had been worried about her? no one had ever let the thought cross their mind that she might be in some sort of trouble, but alas... neville longbottom was different.

“it’s fine... thank you.”

she turned back around, and began once more to clean her face off. neville stood at the entrance awkwardly, not really knowing what he should do.

“um...” he started, glancing around at the bathroom. “i want to help, but... i’m not too sure if i’m even allowed to be in here.”

y/n looked at his reflection through the mirror, and giggled slightly. “you can come in. no one else is in here.”

neville nodded, but mentally, he was trying to hide the fact that her voice was taking such an affect on him. it had been that way ever since she had first spoken to him. he couldn’t get over how fragile her voice was. how sweet she sounded when she spoke. and the look in her eyes... it was all but pure innocence. and, neville loved every bit of it.

he stepped inside, and slowly made his way over to her. he watched for a moment as she wiped her face off, attempting to take in her pumpkin juice covered features.

“are you alright?” he asked suddenly, and y/n looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

neville had to stop himself from letting out a sigh of relief,

“well, what malfoy did was really... mean. i just wanted to make sure you were—“

“neville,” she quickly cut him off, “i’m fine. i promise.”

she shot him a shy smile, and tossed the paper towel in the trash bin. she then grabbed another one, continuing once more.

“here...” he whispered, reaching his hand out towards the paper towel, “let me help.”

she reluctantly nodded, nervous to even think about the fact that his hands would be so close to her face. she handed him the paper towel, and to her surprise, he wet the towel under the sink.

“i didn’t even think about doing that...” she admitted, and she clenched her teeth together out of embarrassment.

he chuckled, and began to wipe her face off gently.

y/n felt herself getting lost into the boy’s facial features. his small freckles, his perfectly contorted nose, the way his lips parted a bit as he focused in on her face.

“here, lift up,” he requested, taking her chin in between his fingers, and lifting her head up slightly. the contact made her heart being to beat at an unmeasurable pace, and she swore that he could see how red she was becoming.

“what you did was pretty awesome. i told you that you could do it.”

she smiled at him, “well, i probably wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“why’s that? i didn’t do anything.”

y/n shrugged, “well... you’ve helped me... with... a lot, i think. so... thank you.”

neville stopped wiping her face,

“no problem.”

he then threw the towel away, but, didn’t seem to step away from y/n. it seemed as if he had only gotten closer to her, without even realizing it. he looked down at her, his tall figure seeming to completely tower over her.

he stared at her face, and he couldn’t even believe how beautiful she was.

“you got some... on your lip...” he informed her.

“oh...” she went to reach her hand up to wipe it off, but neville’s hand seemed to come up way faster.

before she knew it, his thumb was gliding over her lips slowly, and her breath hitched when she realized what was happening. neville seemed to realize what he had done as well, because he stopped just a few moments after he had started. but, his thumb never left her bottom lip.

y/n gulped, staring into his endless eyes. she had so many emotions going through her body at that moment, she didn’t even know how to react. all she knew, is that she wanted one thing.

neville seemed to see right through her, and honestly, he wanted the same thing. so, as his thumb remained stuck to her bottom lip, their faces began to slowly move closer towards each other. y/n could feel her breathing become unsteady as it happed. but, her anxiety wasn’t stopping her anymore.

their lips collided, and neville finally moved his thumb, but his hand came up to the side of her neck. the kiss carried so much innocence, but so much desire all at the same time. y/n had never had her first kiss, but merlin, she knew that this would probably be the best once she would ever receive in her whole life.

when they finally pulled away, the two were breathless. but, they still couldn’t seem to pull their eyes away from each other.

neville knew, all in that moment, she was perfect for him. the kiss was simply a confirmation.

“your lips taste nice...”

—

tags: @cc12-02 @mysticlights-blog @sugukui

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader

314 notes · View notes

shadowsinger11 · 3 years

Text

John Wayne

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Christmas lights and stunning dresses are enough to spark a desire for a winter romance. But could you have possibly gotten the wrong idea?

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff, angst

A/N: I might've listened too much to Cigarettes After Sex while writing and this is totally not a song inspired fic, born purely as a result of my procrastination with other projects

Tag list: @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @harrysweasleys @loony-loopy-lupinn @whiz-bangs78 @slytherinsunrise @starlightweasley @ickle-ronniekins @gcdric @vivianweasley @aprilsrant @idont-knowrn @thisismynerdyself @wonderful-writer @feetoffthetablee @minty-malfoy @vogueweasley @elf-punk @oh-for-merlins-sake @heart-of-tempered-steel @spilled-prose @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads @pastanest | message me to be added/removed! (if you're in bold, I couldn't tag you)

You were staring at the crowded dance floor.

Beautiful ladies were being spun around by their partners, gorgeous gowns twirling and swooshing with their every elegant move. Everything was perfect about them; from their smile which lit up the Great hall more than the sparkling white Christmas trees, to the way their wrist gracefully twisted around their lover's neck, eyes piercing into theirs. The music was playing, slow and melancholic, exactly as it had been playing for the last few hours, luring lovers and encouraging them to bare their souls in front of each other.

And so they danced, connected by fearful desire, united by hope and bonded by love.

It was a kind of magic no one could truly understand, mysterious and private as though you weren't meant to witness it that night. So when among the sea of couples lips met in a silent oath, your heart began to ache, pleading you to leave.

It should have been you. It should have been you the receiver of those loving glances, of those kisses which made your head dizzy and caused your knees to buckle, but it would've been no problem as you would've had the arms of your lover to keep you secure. Then, as you'd dare to look up through your lashes, gorgeous eyes would be already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. And you'd simply fall, letting the warm, velvety darkness envelope you.

You flinched from the slight chill, rethinking your choice of a sleeveless dress. The enthusiasm with which you had picked it months ago now seemed utterly ridiculous and foolish as you were sitting a good distance away from where you believed you'd have been dancing your heart out. But, as you took one last look at your surroundings, only to spot your lovestruck friends indulging in the presence of their partners, the comfort of your pajamas seemed far more tempting than the unreasonably expensive piece of fabric which didn't even matter to you anymore.

It was pitifully funny how things could change in the blink of an eye, in a single breath; how fast you had gone from blooming with excitement to wondering how you were foolish enough to contribute to your own heartbreak.

"How come I'm just finding out about this?" Fred exclaimed, chasing after you down the stairs of the Astronomy tower. "I bet I wouldn't have known if it wasn't for those Ravenclaws chatting back in class."

"You were gonna know eventually, what's the deal?"

"My point is, why didn't you tell me and I had to hear from someone else?"

A group Hufflepuffs gave you questioning looks as you practically ran past them, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process, "You're making a fuss about nothing, stop acting entitled to every piece of information in my life!"

"McLaggen? That git?" Fred yelled in frustration and disbelief; he didn't at all acknowledge the small crowd which had gathered to observe the scene, nor did he care in the first place. He stopped in his tracks, gripping the wooden railing tight, knuckles turning white and jaw tense. "You cannot be serious."

Shocked faces now turned to you, and you desperately wished you could use reducio on yourself. Instead, opposite to what your consciousness was screaming at you, you dug your feet into the floor and shot Fred a stern look over your shoulder, "We're not discussing this right now. Besides, what's in it for you anyway? You're going with Angelina."

Had you kept walking, you would have missed the way Fred's chest was heaving with shallow, rapid breaths, and his face was more maroon than you had ever seen. And you? You couldn't quite breathe yourself.

A week ago your untamed happiness brightened every room and hallway; classes seemed to fly by, exams were over and the Yule ball was right around the corner. Your heart was ringing with joy as you were so looking forward to forgetting your troubles for just one night.

In the midst of shining Christmas decorations and beautiful dresses a dreamy, yet pretty bold idea had begun to form in your head, an idea which Ginny and Hermione encouraged with their support and affirmations. Deep down you had started to believe Fred Weasley took an interest in you, harboured feelings for you even, and your ever-present goofy banter which contained far more flirting than what would be acceptable between two best friends, only fed your imagination and raised your hopes up.

You were aware you were the only one on the receiving end of Fred's teasing jokes, cheesy pickup lines and lingering stares which had you staying up an extra hour in your bed at night. Even his siblings shared the same opinion - there was no way on Godric's sword that a person who clearly wanted to be around you as often as possible and got his hands on you every chance he could, wouldn't be at least a little bit interested in you.

That's why you nearly broke down when exactly a week ago in the hallway Ron casually mentioned his older brother had just asked out Angelina.

The ground was pulled beneath your feet, vanishing along with your oblivious hopes. The news stung sharply, leaving a sour taste in your mouth; never had you believed you’d spend the few days before the ball stitching up your heart, and you were willing to do just about anything to forget about your humiliation. So when McLaggen invited you with an obnoxiously flirty note in Charms class, you didn’t hesitate much.

You could feel a wave of tears burning your eyes as you looked up to where Fred was standing. His face and ears were still as red as they could get, and his chest was vibrating with every shaky breath he took. Fury had disappeared from his eyes long ago, replaced with concern, regret and hurt which you couldn't quite place.

He climbed down the few remaining stairs.

"He's obnoxious! And beyond what's good for you!" Fred stated, though his voice now lacked power and slightly trembled, loud enough just for you to hear. "You're setting yourself up for a pretty bad night."

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and finally turned around to fully face him, looking him up and down.

"Seems like I have a terrible taste in men then."

A second glass of firewhiskey did nothing to burn down the growing turmoil in your stomach. You tapped the edge of the empty glass with your fingers and smiled at your friends who were visibly exhausted from dancing to upbeat songs for quite awhile now, but enjoying their time far too much to take a break. You admired their spirit - just because you weren't feeling your best, it didn't mean your friends didn't have the right to have fun.

However, the inevitable sense of regret lingered in your bones, and you found it hard to not focus on how the ball had gone wrong for you, in more ways than you had originally thought.

Even without Fred as your date, there was still a chance you'd have a good time. McLaggen could undoubtedly make it awkward to be around, and with the fact that your heart had recently been sliced open, you weren't sure how much of his ridiculous antics you could take. But at least he was trying; if you put aside his overbearing ego, you could see genuine effort into creating something romantic for both of you. It was going to be okay. Not necessarily what you desired, but somehow okay.

And that last bit of hope vanished the second you caught your former date snogging your crush's date in an empty classroom merely an hour ago.

You didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the universe's bitter joke, but the tears on your face as you ran down the hallway in your beautiful dress were eloquent.

A bitter, bitter joke.

You couldn't take it anymore. The charming smiles, sultry glances and stolen kisses you had been observing for the past hour were too much. And when another slow song made an appearance, you rose to your feet and headed towards the tall doors of the exit. Perhaps sleep would be a decent ending to your horrendous night.

You had barely made it out of the Great hall when loud footsteps echoed on your right.

"Bloody hell, I've been looking for you!" Fred said through heavy breaths, having run all the way to you as it seemed. His ginger hair had escaped its slicked look long ago, now too messy to fix despite his numerous attempts to smooth it back. His suit was no better, slightly wrinkled and shirt open to the third button.

"Why have you?" you asked and folded your arms, feeling a bit chilly in the hallway.

"McLaggen. About him," Fred sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for having to say it, but I just saw him-"

"I know."

Fred frowned in confusion.

"You do?"

It was your turn to let out an exasperated sigh as you looked down at your feet, "Yes. A while ago."

Fred's features softened.

"I'm sorry."

You barely found it in you to respond with a weak smile, "It's alright. I guess I was right. I do have a terrible taste in men." Then you gave Fred a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry for Angelina too, it's horrible she did this to you."

Your friend allowed the ghost of a smirk to appear on his lips and he shoved hands into his pockets, "I'm not really affected by it in all honesty," he shrugged. "I'm rather angry about the fact that the prat thought he could pull off something like this and get away with it."

Fred's heart ached at the sight of your slumped figure and glossy eyes; he hated himself for having contributed to the failure of the event you were expecting with so much hope. He tilted his head to the side, attempting to meet your gaze.

"I'd gladly prank the crap outta the git until he doesn't even dare to show up to classes… But for now is there a way for me to make your night any less terrible, love?"

You couldn't help but giggle at the thought of McLaggen skipping classes out of sheer fear of Fred. But then your thoughts wandered to the way Angelina was practically straddling his lap, and you wondered if Fred had been doing the same all this time unbeknownst to you; if right after a flirty joke sent your way he'd go to an empty classroom and kiss Angelina with the passion you had just witnessed.

The image of Angelina's lips on Fred's caused you to become nauseous and you attempted to swallow down that lump again.

"No," you replied. "But please, tell me one thing. What was that entire tantrum for?"

Fred didn't really seem taken aback by your question, realizing you'd eventually bring it up. He furrowed a brow, carefully thinking of an answer, and wettened his lips.

“Perhaps it would be inappropriate of me to say it- selfish even, but the mere thought of you being in the embrace of someone, especially with that someone being a foul git, caused me to get unreasonably angry.” Guilt was seeping into his every word and he bitterly chuckled to himself. “Ironic, isn’t it? Attempting to spare you heartbreak by being the reason for it.”

He gently took your hand and looked into your eyes, remorse swimming in his own, "I had no right to treat you the way I did. I'm terribly sorry for being controlling and you absolutely do not have to forgive me. Just know that I truly regret my actions; I never intended to hurt you."

His words were a feather-light caress to your wounded heart and you shuddered. You couldn't stay mad at him. Reciprocated feelings or not, he was still your best friend and you wouldn't let that go.

"Apology accepted," you gave his hand a light squeeze and Fred beamed, the entire hallway lighting up with him. Dread released your chest of its merciless grasp and you could finally breathe. However, one question never ceased to haunt you. "But I just need to know…” you began, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, “...why were you so upset to begin with?"

Fred's shoulders immediately stiffened and he averted his gaze from you in an attempt to come up with a reasonable reply. His jaw was clenched, and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I didn't want you to go with him." He stated simply. "Not when you could've easily gone with me instead."

You froze.

"What do you mean?” you asked timidly, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “What about Angelina?"

Fred only shook his head, fighting back a grin.

"Darling, Angelina was never the catch."

The air was knocked out of your lungs.

You could only stare at Fred wide-eyed, and though his expression was unreadable, maroon had begun to crawl its way up to his ears and cheeks again.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all this," Fred spoke softly as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a kiss that awakened the butterflies within you. "I was really too much of a wuss to confess to you and settled for this instead."

"I guess that makes us two," you smiled sincerely, perhaps for the first time that night. Fred returned your smile with a grin, and asked.

"How can I make up to you for this oh-so-awful mess?"

"Dance with me," you said without skipping a beat. "That's what you owe me at least. Let's finally do what we both wanted."

Fred's expression became serious as he intertwined his fingers with yours, and led you into the direction of the Great hall, from which music could still faintly be heard.

"With the greatest of pleasure, my love."

Most people had already gone to bed, leaving just a few couples and you to drench in enchanted serenity. Fred's arms around you felt like home as you both swayed to the soft rhythm of the song, one of the many to follow, but his racing heartbeat under your palm caused your own pulse to speed up as well.

You looked up at your lover through your lashes, gorgeous eyes already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. There was an odd, enigmatic allure that Fred possessed, and even after years of knowing this man, it only caused you to fall further into the velvety hell you didn't wish to escape from.

And when his lips collided with yours, they tasted sweeter than the forbidden fruit.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley x reader angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #james phelps #fred and george weasley

876 notes · View notes

regretthatsme · 3 years

Text

A Night to Remember

Harry Potter x Reader

I finally wrote it. This is smut. Very smut. Exceptionally smutty. 18+. Angst too.

@hestpwk072310

Harry was lost. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care. It was too much. First it was Cedric, then Sirius, now Dumbledore. It was all too much. Too much. Too much. Too-

Harry collapsed to the floor. He couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in. His heart was racing. His blood was rushing. What's happening? He was dying. He had to be. It was to only thing that made sense. Death seemed to be the only constant in his life. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

"Harry?"

The voice called to him. Must be an angel.

"Harry!"

He felt something touch his hand, though he couldn't have told you what it was. His hands went numb long ago.

"Harry. Listen to me. Can you hear me?" Yes. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say it so bad, but he couldn't. His body was unable. A small groan was the best he could do.

"Okay. Okay. Okay, listen to me. On three, we're going to breathe together, alright?" He could tell the voice was panicked. The was a certain exasperation that could only be described as anxiety. "One, two, three." Harry gasped at the air like a dying man. He kind of was.

"Good job, Harry. You're doing so well. Again. One, two, three." He gasped again but it was much easier.

"You're doing so well. Again. One, two, three." Harry finally opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a face, but there was little detail. His vision came into focus and saw... one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. Her hair, her eyes, her... concern. She cared. She cared about him. This had to be an angel.

"Am I dead?" Harry asked. "Are you an angel?"

The angel laughed for a second before responding. "No. I am not an angel, and, as far as I'm concerned, you are not dead."

Harry took another deep breath before mumbling, "Too pretty to be a person."

"While that is a very lovely compliment, I hate to say I am a human." She softly brushed hair off of Harry's sweaty forehead. "Now, it's quite late. We need to get you to bed." Her voice was as gentle as her touch. Harry limped back to his dorm, with the support of the lovely angel student. In his delirium, he forgot to ask for her name. The only thing he remembered in the morning was a yellow tie around her neck.

-*-*-*-

"Honestly, Hermione, it isn't that big of a deal."

"It is that big of a deal, Ronald. It's ridiculous. She's insisting that she survey the entire school! What is she even searching for? I can only imagine the affect on her mental health. Lack of sleep is very-"

"Will you please be quiet?" Harry whisper-shouted. His friends made a habit of bickering like a married couple and it's been getting on his last nerve. "And what are you on about, anyway? Just let them search Hogwarts."

"Harry, it's more complicated than that-" explained Hermione before Harry cut in.

"How? How is it more complicated? Please, enlighten me."

Hermione looked at Ron, almost as if asking for permission. "Well, it's Y/N. She's the Hufflepuff prefect. Ever since a few weeks ago, she has insisted that she is on petrol. And she checks the whole castle. It's like she doesn't trust us." Hermione expressed. "One time I followed her around the school and the whole time she was mumbling." Hermione was clearly livid about this. Y/N was showing a clear distrust and disdain for the other prefects. I mean, Malfoy is understandable, but Hermione? Ron? They were the nicest, well meaning people that Harry had probably ever met.

"Actually, she was mumbling about you, Harry." Hermione said.

"What?"

"Yeah, she kept going on and on about how you were and if you were okay. Which, don't get me wrong, is a perfectly valid thing to worry about. You have gone through much hardship, and mental health is important, but it seems a bit out of place, especially considering that she probably has never spoken to you or even taken interest in you before." Hermione confessed.

Harry was quote confused. Why would she suddenly start to take an intrest in me? Unless...

"Hermione, what does Y/N look like?"

"Oh! Um.... she has h/c hair and e/c eyes. We have a fair few classes with her. She's always top of the class." It all came back to him in one big rush. The hair that framed her face perfectly, her eyes that sparkled like jewels, her tender touch.

"I.... I think I know her."

-*-*-*-

If she goes on petrol every day, travels around the whole school, and I have an invisibility cloak plus a map, we will find each other.

Harry crept into the hallway and took out his map.

Where is she? Where is she? Where is-

Y/N L/N.

Harry raced to her. He moved as fast as he could. He was running and running and running until-

She's there.

In front of him.

And she knows he's there.

Because she's calling his name.

Harry takes off the invisibility cloak. He clears his throat. "Hello, Y/N." She nods towards him as a hello.

"You need anything?" Her eyes began to fill with concern. "Oh no. Is something wrong? It has to be. Why would you be coming to see me."

"No!" Harry was quick to reassure Y/N. He cupped her cheek and caressed her cheek bone. Maybe the James in him was acting up, but she didn't seem to reject his advances. In fact, she seemed quite comforted by it. "No. No. It's not that. I just wanted to say.... thank you. So incredibly much."

"What ever for?"

"For... just worrying, honestly. I know you helped me when I was having a panic attack and then you stayed up every night to see if I need help." Her face heated up. Harry could feel it on his hand. He smirked a bit. "Thank you. Truly. I just wish I could repay you."

"I can think of a few ways." Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean to say that."

"Well. How do I repay you?" Harry's smirk was much more apparent.

"I told you, I didn't mean to say that."

"But you did say it, and I would really, really, really, really, really, love to make it up to you."

Y/N looked down for a minute before mumbling "a kiss."

"What was that? Speak up, love."

"A kiss. I know, it childish and your not going to want to - mmmph!" Harry had already pulled Y/N into what she desired most. It was... perfect. Nothing short of absolutely magical. It was soft and quick and yet spoke so much.

"Was that good enough?"

"Actually, I'd quite like you to do that again." So they did. And then again. And again. And again. And again. Each time longer than the last. A passionate battle of lips, teeth, and tongue. A quiet wimper was released from Y/N. "Ha-oh!-Harry."

"Yes, love?" He began to kiss down her neck.

"Harry! We're in the middle of the hallway! Anyone could see us."

"What are you suggesting?"

"How about we go somewhere a bit more...... private."

The two teenagers quickly ran off to the Room of Requirements, which had spawned a rather lovely bed, a loveseat next to a fireplace, and bath, which was sure to get some use later. Their clothes came off in a frenzy of hushed whispers and lingering kisses.

Soon, the gravity of what was about to happen took over Harry and Y/N.

"Are... are you sure?" Harry asked. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Y/N said. She kissed Harry so softly. So lovingly. "I've never been so sure of anything."

Harry smiled before kissing down the expanse of her body. First her neck, then her tits, then her stomach until he was right in front of her sex, glistening in the romantic light of the room. "You look so beautiful."

"Please."

"Please what, princess?"

"Touch me. Please."

Harry finally gave Y/N what she wanted. He placed a thumb to her clit. She bucked her hips into him. "Try to keep still for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

He rubbed soft, sensuous circles. Luscious moans left her lips. Her hips moved occasionally and every time they would, Harry pinned her hips down harder. "Your pussy is so pretty." Whispered Harry. She moaned at this. "Such a pretty pussy. Looks good enough to.... eat?"

"Yes! Please. Please eat me out." Her begging was all that Harry needed to hear. His tongue met her folds and he moaned, the vibrations sending shock waves up her spine.

"So sweet, darling." He said as he inserted a finger. A large gasp erupted out of Y/N's mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" They kept this up until Y/N could feel her orgasm approaching. "Fuck! Oh..... I'm gonna cum. I'm close." Harry pulled away just before she could. The whine that left her lips was almost pitiable. Almost.

"Awweee. Did I made you cry, Angel?" Harry mocked. Y/N hated how that turned her on even more.

"Why did you do that, Har?"

"Well, personally, I would love to feel you cum on my cock." She hummed before nodding and spreading her legs even wider. That was before her eyes snapped open.

"Wait!" Her eyes held so much worry.

"What? What's wrong?"

"It's just... I've never done this before."

Harry cooed and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry. We're going to take it nice and slow. Ready?" She nodded once again and he entered her. They could only look into each other's eyes. Harry hissed through his teeth like a snake, which would not be too out of character seeing as he is a parceltongue. Y/N had a slight grimace on her face as a tear trickled down her cheek. Harry kissed it away as he let her adjust.

"You can move. Please move." He moved slowly and the slightly uncomfortable feeling slowly became a most pleasurable sensation. The moans became louder and louder as the movements became faster and faster and the sound of skin-on-skin became harder and harder. Soon, the familiar feeling bubbled up again. "Oooohhhhhhh fuck. I'm so close. I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please, please, please, please."

Harry let her beg for a few more seconds before allowing her to cum with fake reluctance. Her pussy squeased him just right. She absolutely milked his dick. He came not even a minute later. His head naturally found its way to the crook of her neck. She gripped his broad shoulders as she came down from her high.

"Holy shit. I just fucked the chosen one." Harry giggled with her as they collapsed on the bed. Harry slowly pulled his dick out of Y/N.

"I need to get a washcloth for you. We made quite the mess." One conveniently formed next to them. He ran the cloth under the tap of the bathtub. "Can you spread your legs for me, Angel?" The feeling of the cold cloth made her jump.

"'m sorry."

"Don't be. You were incredible." Y/N smiled.

"I'm going to remember tonight forever."

"As will I."

#harry james potter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader smut #harry potter smut #i finally did it #i finally did the thing

378 notes · View notes

harrysweasleys · 3 years

Text

save me a dance // n.l.

summary: Hi!! Could I please request a Neville x Slytherin! Reader? She has a kind soul and became friends with Hermione (who’s the only person that knows about her crush on Neville), but she kept her distance because she knew about what happened to his parents. She goes to the Yule ball with another Slytherin that eventually ditched her, so she sneaks into the kitchens and hangs out with house elves until Neville comes by (knowing that she always hung out with them when she felt sad) and he confesses ^^

warnings: very brief mention of unwanted sexual advances if you squint, mentions of food

word count: 5k

a/n: my first neville fic!!! i’m so excited for you all to read it, i had so much fun writing it :)

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform]

For what felt like the hundredth time, you woke up to the same view; your Yule Ball dress hanging loosely over the four poster bed, the sunlight streaming through the fabric and onto your chunky bed sheets.

The dress was quite stunning, but Godric, did you dread wearing it. You didn’t exactly feel like dancing the night away alongside some Slytherin bloke while you looked around at all the happy couples, wishing ever so desperately that that could have been you. That you could be the one dancing the night away with the person who had captured your heart effortlessly.

Unfortunately, that plan hadn’t exactly fallen into place. Hermione had done her best to help you out in getting him to ask you, but you ended up being put on the spot when a Slytherin boy named Jasper had asked you during Transfigurations. So, you had said yes, but deep down, that regret was starting to multiply by the second.

You let out a groan, tossed your head back against the pillow, and lifted the warm comforter off of your body. The fireplace in the centre of the room was still crackling away, but within the stone walls of the castle, the cold seemed to never fully fade.

So you threw on your house sweater, your scarf, robe, and a pair of trousers, before heading down to start the day. The snow was accumulating rather quickly outside as Christmas drew nearer, rendering you quite glad that you brought your scarf.

“At least you’re prepared,” Hermione mumbled as the two of you made your way to Divinations, “It’s always freezing in Professor Trewlaney’s room! Oh, how I wish I could have brought mine. Rather silly of me.”

You chuckled, keeping your eyes on the long winding staircase as you responded to her, “Not to worry, I’m sure Ron has a sweater you can borrow.”

Though you weren’t facing her, you could practically feel her eye roll as she scoffed, “Very funny. Such a clever idea. You really are filled with those.”

“I’m just saying,” you turned back to face her quickly before pulling down the ladder to the Divination classroom, “I’m sure he’d think you look amazing in it. Isn’t that what guys like? When their girlfriends wear their clothing?”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” she shushed you as you climbed up, “Be quiet!”

You apologized with a laugh as you climbed into the classroom and made your way to your usual seat at the front by the window, Hermione coming over to join you. Harry and Ron were seated not too far away, but that didn’t really matter to you. From across the class, you spotted Neville.

He was accompanied by Seamus — who seemed quite interested in the tablecloth at the moment — but you so wished that you could be the one sitting across from him.

His vest hung loosely against his body and his dark hair was littering his forehead, eyes scrunched shut as he let out a yawn. As he opened them, you noticed they darted in your direction before snapping away.

You felt a frown form on your lips. Why did he look away so fast? Instinctively, you raised a hand to the top of your head to check if there was anything in your hair.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked as she dug through her bag, placing the heavy Divinations book on top of the circular table. The book, with its golden lettering, seemed to twinkle under the pink hues of the morning sky.

You shrugged, “Nothing.”

Her eyes followed to where you had previously been looking, and she let out a sigh, “Relax. You look wonderful. There’s nothing to fix.”

You sulked back into your chair, “Hermione, he asked Ginny to the ball. Don’t try to continue your matchmaking.”

She leaned forward on the table, pushing her thick hair behind her shoulder, “Doesn’t mean you don’t stand a chance. Look, I like Ginny, but maybe they’re going as friends. Like you and Jasper.”

“I think Jasper has more than friendship on his mind,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to the way his hands lingered on your lower back a little too long after you agreed to be his date.

She gave you a sympathetic glance, opening her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by Trewlaney announcing her presence. The class began shortly after, and you spent the time reading Hermione’s palm and deciphering what your own dreams meant.

According to the textbook, you were going to stumble upon a lot of money as well as possibly fall down a sewer within the next week. Nothing new, really. It was better than Harry’s, who once again, was told he was doomed for death in the coming months.

As the class ended, you stuffed the books and parchment into your backpack and thanked Trelawney for the lesson, following Hermione out of the room. As you made your way to the ladder, you spotted a little red ball on the ground.

You crouched to pick it up, immediately recognizing it as Neville’s remembrall. How oddly convenient that it land right at your feet.

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered as you turned to hand it to him, fingers brushing against his as you placed it in his palm, “This thing likes to try and escape.”

You grinned at him, “You should keep it safe in your dorm.” You tried your best to keep your voice steady as you spoke to him, which was odd, really. Why did you always become so nervous around Neville, who was one of the shyest, kindest people you’d ever met? Crushes were quite strange.

He gave you a small smile and a shrug, “I like to carry it on me. It’s from my nan. I don’t want to leave it behind.”

Your chest felt like it was going to swell at his words, “That’s really sweet. I’m sure she appreciates that you care for it so much.”

As you turned back to face the ladder, Hermione gave you a quick wink and a thumbs up before darting away with Harry and Ron, clearly insinuating that you should walk with Neville. You mentally scolded her before making your way to it, Neville not far behind.

“She does,” he said, fondness clear in his voice, “It’s not like I get anything from my parents, so I cherish anything I get from my family in general.”

Your heart sunk in your chest. Neville had always been very closed off when talking about his family — especially his parents — so the way he mentioned them so casually had you doubting what to say next. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by continuing the topic, nor did you want to brush it off like it was nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you said, facing him once the two of you began going down the spiral staircase, “I can imagine it’s difficult. But your nan clearly cares a lot, and she’s lucky to have you.”

His ears turned slightly pink at your words and you had to fight a grin.

The next few minutes were silent until Neville once again turned to face you. There was something about him that always seemed optimistic, despite the fact that he had just spoken a bit about the difficult situation with his parents. Whether it be the smile on his face or the sparkle in his eye, you couldn’t be sure what it was. But Merlin, did you ever adore it.

“She sent me my suit for the Yule Ball, actually,” he said, a bit of a hop in his step as he said the words, “It doesn’t fit perfectly but I’m sure it’ll last the night.”

You let out a small laugh, “That’s awfully sweet of her. I’m sure you’ll look dashing.”

As you said the words, you regretted them instantly. Well, not so much regretted — you meant every syllable — but more so, you wished you could currently fall into the sewer that Trelawney had predicted you’d stumble into.

Throwing out a compliment like that was quite possibly the last thing you wanted to do. Would he react badly? Would he think you were coming onto him? Would this change things?

Were you overthinking?

The corners of his lips curled up into a shy smile and he gave you a nod and cut you short of your internal rambling, “Are you excited?”

Yeah, definitely overthinking.

You let out a sigh, trying to move past your embarrassment and continue your walk to your next class, dodging a few passing students, “Kind of. I’m excited for the music. Not so much the dancing. I’m not very good at that.”

He chuckled, “I wasn’t either. I taught myself, actually. In my room. The lads loved to make fun of that.”

The image of Neville dancing away in the cramped boys’ dorm brought a smile to your face.

“You’ve already got a step up on me, then,” you faced him, “Get ready to watch me humiliate myself on the dance floor.”

You stepped a little closer to him as a group of Ravenclaw pushed past in a rush, and Neville’s hand reached for your arm to help steady you.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling away and avoiding your gaze, “But anyways, I’m sure you’re not as bad as you think. Ginny has never danced either, so you won’t be the only one.”

You tried your best to push past the surge of jealousy that washed over you. You already knew he was going with Ginny — hell, you’d know for a while now — but it did not make it any easier to hear. Especially coming from him.

“I didn’t expect you’d ask her,” you admitted, “but I’m sure you’ll both have a wonderful time. She’ll have a good leader to help her maneuver the moves.”

You gave his shoulder a small nudge, trying to act like you weren’t drowning in your own feelings. The thought of Neville holding Ginny close to his body as they swayed to the romantic music nearly made you sick. You liked Ginny a great deal, she was such a sweet girl with a fierce attitude that you admired, but you really wished Neville had asked you instead.

“We’re just going as friends,” he said, “I was going to ask someone else but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I’m pretty sure Ginny was also interested in another person in the first place.”

You tried your best to hold back a sigh of relief. They were going as friends. That didn’t mean it would make it easier to see them together, but maybe you could push past the jealousy you felt about seeing them as a couple.

But then the next thing he said hit you; he wanted to ask someone else. Someone he was interested in romantically? Perhaps he actually did like someone, even if that someone wasn’t Ginny. Who could it be? And why were you so irritated? You didn’t even know them.

“Well,” you said, unsure of how to change the topic, “I’ll be looking out for you two on the dance floor.” You wanted so desperately to no longer speak of the Yule Ball. The thought of the night was now dizzying and had you feeling a little faint, to be completely honest.

It was going to be a long day.

— —

You were honestly quite surprised by the appearance of the Great Hall. Usually filled with long tables, chairs, and candles, it was now glistening like a winter wonderland. There was fake snow falling from the ceiling, but it never touched the ground. The room smelled faintly of pine trees and sweets, and you figured that there had to be at least seven Christmas trees littering the room.

To put it simply, the space was beautiful.

Music played softly from the dance floor ahead, and to your right, there was a small table with a few snacks and drinks. There were also quite a few seats around, already occupied by couples and friends.

“What do you want to do?”

You turned to face Jasper, who was waving over at a group of Slytherins further on the left.

“We can go dance,” you suggested, praying he wasn’t going to drag you over to his housemates. Jasper seemed alright enough, but you weren’t a fan of his obnoxious friends. You could very well go the night without hanging around them, thank you very much.

He shrugged, “Sure.”

He linked his hand in yours and tugged you along behind him, bringing you over to the dance floor. Once you got there, you noticed a few familiar faces.

Hermione and Viktor were not far away, and she gave you an excited grin before pointing at her date, who was obviously making love heart eyes in her direction. You couldn’t blame him, honestly. Further along you spotted Fred and Angelina, dancing away as if they were the only two in the room. It caused you to chuckle.

“So do you want to dance, or…?” Jasper asked, placing one of his hands on your waist.

You shivered under his touch. It wasn’t a good shiver, it was discomfort. You wanted more than anything to be dancing with Neville — who you currently spotted over with Ginny, his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, awkwardly stepping closer to him before putting your arms around his neck. Your throat began to sting as you watched the two of them glide across the floor, laughing as they spoke to each other. It felt quite juxtaposed to the uncomfortable, weird situation that you found yourself currently in.

You began to sway to the music, trying your best not to dart your eyes to Neville every couple of seconds. Jasper was clearly not enjoying this, but you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care what he wanted. He wasn’t going to get what he came here for and you weren’t going to be guilted into it either.

You honestly couldn’t be thankful enough as the slow song ended. You quickly pulled your arms away from him and you crossed them over your chest.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” you said, not waiting for his response before taking off to the table by the entrance. You heard him call your name as you pushed your way through students, holding the skirt of your dress in your hands to avoid being stepped on, but you didn’t look back.

There was a clearing near the table and you took a deep breath, dropping your skirt and letting out a sigh. Your shoulders slouched as you walked over and grabbed a small glass, not even sure if you were thirsty. The excuse was simply to get away from Jasper. You were regretting your decision to come here more than ever.

“I recommend the punch.”

You spun on your heel, nearly coming in contact with Neville. He was standing behind you, taking a step back after realizing how close he really was.

“Oh—,” you nodded, “Thanks.”

The punch bowl sat in front of you, glistening red under the shimmering lights. You grabbed the spoon and poured yourself a little bit, enjoying the scent of the fruity drink.

You turned back around, giving Neville a forced smile, “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he fiddled with his waistcoat, “Are you alright? I don’t mean to prod or anything.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, “Yeah, I guess I’m alright, really. Just not having a great time.”

Neville’s eyes scanned the dance floor where he spotted Jasper’s familiar blond head scanning the crowd, “I’m guessing it has something to do with your date.”

His eyes found yours again and you nodded, placing the glass down on the table behind you, “My situation is kind of like yours, I guess. You wanted to ask someone else. Well, I wanted someone else to ask me.”

You could see his shoulders sag before he frowned, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’d say anyone would be lucky to have you as their partner, but something about him tells me he’s not enjoying himself the way he should be, being by your side and all.”

You had to fight a grin at his words. How Neville could be so awkward, yet so effortless in his words, you’d never understand. It was one of the reasons you knew you wouldn’t be getting over your crush anytime soon.

“Thanks,” you gave him a smile, looking down to the ground before meeting his eyes again, “You should go back. I don’t want to keep you from dancing.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes as he scanned your face, but he gave a slight nod, “If ever you want to get away from him, I’ll be there to help you.”

“Thanks, Neville,” you smiled genuinely, maintaining eye contact. He stood there for a moment, looking into your eyes, and you could practically feel how reluctant he was to walk away.

As cliché and typical as it sounds, it almost felt like you were alone in the room, completely lost in his gaze. His eyes brought you comfort that nothing else could provide, and you only wished you could look into them more often. Like dancing, for example. How easily you’d find yourself lost in his eyes if you were dancing.

“No worries,” he gave you a small smile, scanned your face once more, and took off into the crowd. As you watched his head of dark hair vanish, you let out a deep breath. If life could go your way, he’d have his hand linked with yours as he led you back to the dance floor.

But life wasn’t fair like that, was it?

You completely disregarded the punch behind you, stomach feeling like it was in knots, and made your way back to where you left Jasper. Only, you couldn’t find the familiar mop of blond hair anywhere. He was rather tall, so it wouldn’t be difficult to spot him. And yet, somehow, he was nowhere to be seen.

Until you looked to the entrance door and saw him hand in hand with a ginger Slytherin girl, both of them stumbling over their feet as they made their way out.

“Well, that was fast,” you mumbled, a frown on your face.

You stood alone on the floor, couples swaying to the music around you. It kind of felt like a movie — the kind of movie where the girl gets her heart crushed by a guy, and then is ditched by another guy, and then is left alone in the end. A crappy movie, you thought, but one that seemed to fit really well right now.

The music was practically taunting you, so instead of staying put or going to finish your drink, you once again gathered your dress in your hands, and made your way out of the room.

The hallway felt a lot fresher compared to the Great Hall, but that was understandable. Hundreds of bodies in one room compared to the corridor with an open doorway to the winter air.

Though, that wasn’t where you were going. You decided you’d go down to your usual escape spot, and now that all the teachers were chaperoning the ball, you would make it there with minimal interruption.

You spotted the familiar painting by the kitchen entrance, the bowl of fruits, and raised your hand to tickle the pear. The painting swung open and you crawled through the little stone passage, making sure your dress wasn’t going to get caught, before landing on both feet on the tile floor.

“Oh! Miss Y/N!”

Dobby, donned in a little scarf and hat, waved at you from a tabletop.

“Hey, Dobby,” you grinned, “Sorry to interrupt your quiet evening in here. I didn’t know where else to go.”

He patted the table next to him, “Why did you leave so early? Dobby heard the ball was lasting all night.”

You gave him a little smile, sitting down on the stool in front of him, “Wasn’t as fun as I expected. I’d rather spend my evening here. Where is everyone else?” The stool was rather small for a human being, considering it was most likely made for an elf, but if you leaned forwards against the table and kept your feet plastered to the ground, you managed to balance just fine.

He gave a little smile and looked at you with those big eyes, “They are all tired! We have been putting the ball together for days now! They all went to bed.”

The corner of your lips curved up, “Well, now you have company, Dobby.”

He clapped his hands together and let out a little laugh, “Let me show you what Dobby found today. It was in the Gryffindor common room!”

You nodded, knowing that it was most likely a knitted hat. Hermione had been leaving those scattered around the room for a little while now. Little did she know Dobby was the one collecting them all.

As you watched his little body disappear through a small doorway on the far wall, you took a look around the kitchen. Despite the fact that you were certain they had been working non-stop in here for days on end, it was nearly spotless. Pots and pans shimmered under the candlelight, tabletops were clear, apart from a few fruit bowls and snacks. The counters were clean, as well as the floors.

If this place had windows, or maybe a little more light, you felt it would be quite nice.

You sat there silently for a little while, already beginning to feel the sadness of the evening creep in. It was quite a bummer, really. You didn’t know if you wanted to go back to your own dorm tonight or stay out wandering the halls, mind running through all the scenarios on how tonight could have gone differently, how it could have been better.

The only sound you could hear was a light creak, which you eventually realized was the painting swinging open to let someone in.

Panic began to settle in and you stood off your chair, moving to the other side of the table. You would still be very much visible if you ducked, so there was no point in doing it, but you did it anyways.

The last thing you wanted was for Snape or Moody to catch you where you shouldn’t be.

Except, the person that crawled through and landed sturdily on their feet wasn’t Snape or Moody.

It was Neville.

You popped your head back up, eyes locking with his. He looked a little disheveled in terms of his hair, and his bow tie was slightly off centre, but the smile on his face showed relief.

“Neville?” you asked, already feeling a little less panicked. You only hoped Neville was alone. The last thing you wanted was for a girl to crawl in behind him. He wasn’t that kind of guy, you knew that, but your mind went there anyways.

Thankfully, he was alone. The painting swung closed behind him and he gave you a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, walking back around to the front of the table, this time deciding not to sit on the stool.

His cheeks turned a little pink but he brushed it off and shrugged, “I saw you rush out of the room. I wanted to see if you were okay. I remember you once told me you come here when you’re upset, so I gave it a shot.”

Your mouth felt like it fell open so you shut it quickly, blinking rapidly, “I’m surprised you remembered. Only you and Hermione know about my little escape spot.”

He gave a small chuckle, stepping a little closer, “Are you alright, though? I saw you leave and I didn’t see your date anywhere.”

You gave a shrug, averting your eyes, “He left. With another girl. I wasn’t interested in him that way, but it still sucks.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and gave a shake of his head, “You’re better off without him,” he stepped a little closer, catching your attention once more, “But I get why you’re upset. Funny story, the same thing happened to me. But not in the same sense. Ginny managed to get a dance with Harry.”

You were close enough to put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

Realization caught up to you and you noticed how stupid this gesture probably was, so you snatched your arm back and held it against you. Neville noticed your quick reaction and you could see his gaze fall down to the ground before meeting yours again.

Just like at the punch table, it felt as if time stood still while you looked into his eyes. You could see he looked like he wanted to say something, his stare darting back and forth between your lips and your eyes, but he didn’t say anything for a good moment.

Until one of his hands reached across and held yours. His skin was warm, and you could feel his pulse against his wrist. His heart was beating fast, and if he could feel your own pulse, he’d say the same about you.

“You look—,” he took a deep breath, “You look beautiful tonight. Well, not just tonight. You look beautiful most of the time. I’m just saying, it’s — never mind.”

Your heart seemed to stutter in your chest, goosebumps rising on your skin at his words. They had caught you so off guard that you couldn’t find a way to respond. No words seemed to find their way into your mind. All you could do was smile. A bright, genuine grin that hurt your cheeks.

“Thanks,” you let out a small laugh, linking your fingers with his, “Also, you look pretty dapper yourself. I told you you would, and I was right.”

He stepped closer, his other hand locking with your free one. It wasn’t an overtly intimate gesture — people held hands all the time — but Merlin, did you ever melt into his touch.

“Do you — Can we have a dance?”

You bit your lip to hold back your smile. How you went from standing alone on the dance floor, starring in the most depressing teen flick you’d ever heard of, to standing alone in the kitchen, your hands locked with Neville’s as the candles flickered around the two of you, you’d never know. But you were so, so grateful. And happier than you can ever remember being.

“I’d love that,” you nodded, stepping closer and resting your head against his shoulder. His hands let go of yours and went to your waist, and it felt so right. So right that you completely forgot about how it felt when Jasper was holding you instead.

Your hands went up to his neck, draping them around him and leaning into his touch. There was no music, but it almost didn’t feel necessary. The two of you began to sway slowly back and forth, the only sound being the click of your shoes as you took your steps. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about whether Dobby would walk back in any second now.

He rested his head against yours as he led the way. It wasn’t much of a dance, but it was quite possibly the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to you. You wished more than anything that you could freeze this moment and live like this forever.

“A hat! Dobby was left a hat — Oh! Hello!”

Neville pulled away instinctively and grinned awkwardly, taking a second to process what had happened before nodding his head in the direction of the house elf, “Hello, Dobby.”

You fought a grin, turning your head back to face Dobby, who was awkwardly looking between the two of you, a large knitted beanie in his hand.

“Dobby can sense he is intruding,” he muttered, giving a little bow before backing up through the door he left through before, “Good night!”

The moment had sort of been interrupted, but you didn’t move away from Neville’s touch, resting your head against his shoulder once more as your laughter died down. Of course, the curious little elf would walk in at the worst moment.

“I knew that would happen,” you laughed, tightening your grip around him a little more. He chuckled, head falling against yours. You could feel his hair tickling the side of your face, the strands unruly and curly as they brushed against your skin.

The night ended up being way better than you expected.

This one you would never forget.

——

taglist

@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @awritingtree @thisismysketchbook @valwritesx @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble @shadowsinger11 @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @inglourious-imagines @amourtentiaa @spacexcowgirl @lumos-barnes @gcdricreads @bolaurel

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom reader insert #neville longbottom one shot

161 notes · View notes

dracoladon · 3 years

Note

oh my god I absolutely ADORED lucid and born slippy, so the chance to prompt you with something is so so exciting!! as always, no pressure, but how about something about undressing each other? i've always LOVED the unlacing/undressing tropes in capri, and I bet it would be incredible applied to some lovely drarry. do with this what you wish!!!

sidjdjfnndkff thank you, and thank u again for this ungodly prompt. if there’s three things i love, they’re captive prince, drarry, and soft smutty tropes such as the one u hath so kindly bestowed upon me.

i accidentally made a fair few lucid references in here (prizes for all who can spot them, the prize is a poem about u as composed by me) so i suppose, if you’ve read that one and so wish, u can consider this part of the same universe. or smth ://

maybe i’m just hideously unimaginative when it comes to topics for my banter. anywho

rated e, 1732 words.

The thing about Draco’s work robes, is that they’re buttoned all the way up to the throat. Which, hm, doesn’t sound like an issue in and of itself. But becomes one, of sorts, when Harry is overcome by the need to unbutton them every time he lays eyes on pale, elegant throat, the column of it under stiff black fabric.

The thing is, that Draco looks so austere, so tightly laced, and the thing. Is. That Harry just wants to unlace him.

Draco is, of course, not austere. He’s in fact very, erm, flexible. Pliant. He told Harry once, when they first starting fucking, that his body reformed around Harry’s, and he liked the way he went malleable in Harry’s hands.

“I can’t do that with anyone else,” Draco said. Then frowned. “That didn’t make much sense.”

But the buttons. The buttons. The high-necked buttons. They give Draco a look of frigidity, that he’s not to be spoken to, touched (all in a very sexy, aristocratic kind of way, of course), and it’s so bloody hot that Harry’s taken to banishing his glasses and burying his head under a pillow when Draco dresses in the mornings, just to stop himself getting so hard he goes properly blind with it.

Draco asked him, the third time he burrowed under the bedclothes like a “demented ferret” (glass houses, Harry said), what he was doing.

“The buttons,” Harry murmured. “Want to undo them.”

“The buttons?”

“The buttons.”

“You sick, kinky twist, Harry Potter.”

Harry unearthed himself, at that. “Shut up? It’s not about the buttons, you horror. It’s about what’s underneath the buttons.”

“How touching.”

And then more teasing, and Harry had it up to here and said, “I’ll burrow again.”

So Draco sat next to him on the bed, robes all secured, and said, softly, but still smiling like a git, “Tell me, love. Why the buttons?”

“You’re just—they’re, you know. So—God,” and then Harry had reached out and rent the sides of Draco’s robes apart, the little cloth covered studs clattering over his polished walnut floors, and pulled Draco down on top of him, and fucked him right there until Draco was late for work, and later still because they’d had to spend half an hour charming the wretched things back into place.

Now, Draco says, “the buttons are still wonky from that little stunt you pulled.”

Harry can see only Draco’s legs (crossed over each other on the couch, back flat on the ground, because Draco feels it centres him to drape upended from the furniture at the end of a long day) from where he’s decanting the wine in the kitchen. “I’ve always been pants at tailoring charms.”

“Was that a pun?” says Draco, sounding pained. “I’m leaving you, if that was a pun.”

“But then who will do your bidding? Aerate your wine, iron your silk pants—”

“I’ll get a house elf.”

“—not finished, suck your brains out your cock, make you pasta with butter and cheese when it’s cold and you’re in a mood—”

“I’ll get a gigolo, too.”

“I still wasn’t finished,” Harry says, and Levitates the wine into the living room in front of him.

Draco says, “did you get the right glasses, this time?”

“You’re very funny,” Harry says, because after months of trying to educate Harry, Draco has finally accepted that his one true love is cheap beer, and sorted all the wine glasses he keeps at Harry’s flat into labelled little boxes. (‘This is a coupe, Potter. If you bring me red wine in it again, I’ll throw it at you.’ ‘These are for dessert wine — after dinner, before a good hard boffing.’)

“Why don’t you just go snag one of those fucking — sommiliars.”

“Sommelier.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, happy because Draco’s wearing his work robes and speaking French and looking all twisty, and it’s Friday night, and there’s wine and music from the record Draco put on, and Harry gets to untwist him.

“Did you know,” Draco says, arching his back into a luxurious stretch before rearranging himself right side up and plucking a glass from the air, “that Amantea is starting her own firm.”

“God. Really?”

“Quite. It’s a pro bono thing, evidently. You know she’s been on the exec’s for months about how they direct all their mandatory hours towards corporations, not, you know, people who actually can’t afford legal counsel.”

“‘Course.” Harry distinctly remembers being cornered by Amantea when Draco brought him along to last year's Christmas drinks — he was a decent few in, and Draco kept palming at him through his formal robes when no one was looking, and he thinks he may have agreed to some kind of public crusade in the name of her cause that he doesn’t remember the details of to this day.

“Merlin, that’s incredible. She’s just quit, then? Starting it from the ground up?”

Draco nods, sips his wine. “She asked me to come with her. Ford, too.” And then, into his glass, “Said yes.”

Harry chokes, and Draco smirks at him behind the rim while he expires into his Pinot. “Bastard,” Harry coughs.

“Mm,” Draco hums.

“That’s—fuck, hang on—that’s great, love. Draco, it’s brilliant.”

“Really?” Draco says, tangling his fingers in Harry’s. He can see now that he’s doing that Very Draco Thing where his eyes go a bit too wide and his tongue keeps darting out to wet his bottom lip. “Cause I haven’t quit yet.”

“Of course. I think it’s really, really incredible.”

Draco rolls his eyes, but his cheeks flush pink. “Any more of that, and I won’t go near your cock for a week.”

“I’m proud of you,” Harry says, smiling.

“Two weeks.”

He leans on his haunches, hooks a blond tendril behind Draco’s ear. “I’m so proud of you, Draco. Everything you are.”

“A month. A year! Harry,” Draco complains.

Harry snorts. Sits back. “Fine. So would you still be doing all the same work?”

Draco nods. “I’d still be a defence counsel. I’d just be, you know. Not getting paid. At least, not for a while.”

“Good,” Harry says. “We’ve got a horrific amount of money, between the two of us.”

“I’m glad you think so, because we’ll be living off your salary alone. What’s the going rate for darling of the Wizarding world?”

Harry walks his fingers over Draco’s knee, daubed in the heavy black wool of his robes. “Several million a year darling. Are you excited, then?”

Draco shuffles around so he can rest his back against the couch, keeping Harry’s palm pressed to his knee with his own hand as he moves. “Yes. Very. I love my job, but the fees they charge our time at are outrageous. I was always thinking, Mother and I wouldn’t have been able to afford that right after the war. Had we even been allowed a solicitor, but don’t get me bloody started.”

Harry thinks that’s Draco down to his bones. He gives cold little glares to people he doesn’t want to talk to, and shrinks in on himself like a turtle whenever Molly tries to hug him at Sunday lunch, and he’s selfish about stupid things, like letting Ron have the last of his chips at pub night.

And then he does things like drop lunch by Hermione’s office when he has afternoon meetings with the Wizengamot, or quit the job he loves so much, where he’s finally respected and secure, to work for free with Scary Amantea because he actually cares about the abysmal state of the Wizarding justice system, or rent out an entire Muggle theme park for Harry’s birthday, because he’d said, off handed, one night in Draco’s arms, that he’d always been left behind when the Dursley’s took Dudley as a child.

“You’re so nice,” Harry says.

Draco frowns. “Take it back.”

Harry says, “Won’t,” and gives him a good, slow kiss that tastes like wine. Wine from a proper glass.

“I have bad news, too,” Draco says into Harry’s lips.

Harry can’t think of how anything could be bad, wrong, when Draco’s mouth is so soft and so close, but he murmurs, “What,” anyway.

“No dress code, at the new firm.”

Harry pulls back, stricken. “No more buttons?”

“Less regular buttons,” Draco amends, and Harry places a protective hand over Draco’s clavicles.

“This is completely tragic,” Harry says.

“Dare I say, Potter, you’ll just have to make the most of them. While you can.”

Harry nods, leans down again, a hand either side of Draco’s hips, and kisses him again.

When he pulls back, it’s so he can get his hands on the reeling column of buttons that runs from Draco’s navel to his Adam’s apple.

There was a certain carnal appeal in tearing them off him that first time, but now Harry likes this. His hands on Draco, his mouth following. Pushing the silken studs through the loops, undressing Draco inch by milk white inch.

“Yes,” Draco says, as Harry licks and nips his way down every bit of skin he exposes. When Draco swallows, Harry feels the movement of it roll beneath his palm. When Draco’s legs fall open, Harry mouths at his hip bone as it shifts under his tongue.

Harry disrobes himself with slightly less worshipping finesse. Pushes the tailored cloth off Draco’s shoulders, helps him arrange himself underneath Harry, ankles clasped lazily at his back. Fucks him slow, and sweet, and two more times.

Really, Harry doesn’t know why the robes do it for him so utterly and completely. They look kind of like the type of thing a vicar would wear, which is also what Harry remembers thinking when he saw Draco in his dress robes at the Yule Ball (although now it’s more a very rich, very sleek sort of vicar vibe, and less of the fusty, I-took-a-celibacy-oath-at-thirteen-and-am- now-seventy-two thing he had going back then. With all the velvet. Draco looks much better in silk. Anyway.)

On that, it’s probably because it’s a reminder that it’s Malfoy who he’s with. Malfoy, not Death Eater, tormentor, but pale limbs, plush, pink mouth and naked vulnerability before him. It’s how far they’ve both come, and how Draco presents himself to the world — so far away from what Harry gets to see. What’s Harry’s. What’s theirs.

“Also,” Draco says, when Harry tells him this in bed that night, “I look positively indecent in black.”

#my writing #answered #theestarryknight #prompts #drarry

459 notes · View notes

harrypotterandthefandomaccount · 3 years

Text

o children

pairing: harry potter x gn!reader

request: Hello! I would like to request a Harry Potter x reader where is basically the dancing scene from the deathly hallows part 1 but Harry is dancing with the reader instead of Hermione (she could be outside making guard or choose to go with Ron idk) and when Harry and y/n stop dancing they look at each other's eyes and kiss? You don't have to write it if you don't want to :'( but I would love to read something like that, anyways thank you!💖 (Sorry if my English sucks)

warnings: none, just loads of fluff.

note: i love this scene w/ hermione and harry, even if it is a bit awkward at first lol. hope you enjoy! gn!reader

your hands scrunched up in your hair, ready to pull out all remaining strands. you chuckled to yourself, biting your lower lip as you realized this situation was much more stressful than the O.W.L.’s you’ve taken in the past.

that, and you’ve lost two of your closest friends.

you cannot imagine how harry feels, even though he sits across the room from you. he seemed. . .hollow? a song echoed on the radio and it seemed to fit the atmosphere - melancholy.

as you glanced to your left and took in the lamp beside you, soft footsteps filled the tent. you sighed softly, wondering if harry was going to get some air. it was odd; the room was so spacious, yet in light of recent events, it felt so small.

you wished ron and hermione hadn’t left; you and harry needed them both. they were the brains and the brawns of this entire journey - yet, you understood why they left. it was getting to be too much, too risky. ron had a big family to get home to and if something were to happen, he would not be able to live with himself.

and hermione, ever the saint, needed to be there for ron and make sure he was okay, that he wouldn’t do anything brash.

but it always seemed like you and harry needed each other.

the footsteps reached your own feet, making you look up at the sweater-clad teen. he held his hand out, shakily waiting for you to accept. you let out a small huff before accepting his hand.

pulling you up, harry gently guided you towards him, your flannel rubbing against his sweater in a soft manner. harry reached behind your neck as your eyebrows furrowed, feeling him mess with the collar of your shirt.

you went to say something but bit back your words and harry pulled you into the center of the tent, slowly pulling each of your arms towards him and then back again. the song on the radio, which you learned was ‘o children’ by nick cave and the bad seeds, seemed to grow louder as you reluctantly let harry pull your limbs.

however, as the song continued, harry proceeded to pull you towards him and spin you around. you let out a laugh, feeling as if you were at the yule ball once again. looking at him, you noticed he too had a smile on his face, his cheeks lighting up at the times where you both were so close.

with a giggle, you pulled back and twirled harry, his hand still intertwined with your own. he kept spinning, making you laugh even more as he stumbled over his own two feet. as he finished twirling, harry pulled you into his arms once more, letting you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

with two hands intertwined once more, harry rocked you both back and forth in such a discordant manner that you couldn’t help but laugh. the feel of your breath against his neck tickled him and made him flustered all at once, keeping his ears trained on the beautiful sounds that left your mouth.

stepping back once more, harry pulled your arms towards him one at a time, feet almost stomping onto the floor. you both pulled towards one another, eyes never leaving each other. harry let go of your left hand, extending your right arm until he twirled himself back into your arms.

why, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, head thrown back slightly as harry looked at you with so much admiration.

twirling you once more, harry pulled you back into his arms, your cheek resting against his shoulder softly. he leaned down, resting his own cheek against the side of your head. he slowly swayed the both of you, the sound of the song putting you both at ease.

as harry had his cheek against your hair, he softly inhaled your scent, butterflies filling his stomach as he felt your hand squeeze his. shifting his head, harry pressed a soft kiss to your cheek that was exposed to him. from the corner of his eye, he saw a smile form on your lips.

as the song reached its climax, you pulled back and looked at harry, wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms immediately going to your waist. you leaned forward as did he, your foreheads almost resting against one another. looking up at harry, you noticed a soft blush covering his cheeks, “nice dance moves, potter.” a smile soonafter graced your lips as you played with the hairs at the back of his neck.

harry chuckled, “you’re not too bad yourself, y/n. felt like a princess when you twirled me those times.”

you leaned your head back slightly with a laugh, “did i twirl you or did you twirl yourself?”

he leaned down towards you in a soft motion, almost hoping you wouldn’t notice, “hmm, i guess you do have a point. haven’t had such great dancing partners.”

you moved a hand to his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his skin, “well i thought you danced wonderfully,” you whispered.

harry licked his lips before responding, “i just had a great partner.” he leaned down, noticing your eyes were closing as he softly grazed his nose with your own, a small laugh escaping your lips. harry chuckled himself before he closed his eyes, meeting your lips in a soft kiss.

one of his hands laid a gentle hand on your cheek, caressing it as his lips moved against yours. it was a bit sloppy, you won’t deny it, but it was perfect. it was so harry potter.

you smiled against the kiss, loving the feeling of his hand against your cheek. pulling back slightly with your hands still around his neck, you saw how flushed his cheeks had become, head slightly bowed as harry became embarassed.

“i guess i shouldn’t be surprised that the chosen one is such a good kisser, huh?” you joked, releasing one of your hands to mess with his hair.

harry let out a huff, “i feel quite the opposite - i may need some extra lessons - if you’re willing to teach me, of course.”

you let out a soft laugh, “why, i’d be a terrible teacher if i said no!”

harry leaned down, brushing his nose against yours once more, “better to get started on these lessons sooner than later, don’t you think?”

giving him a quick peck, you returned your hand to the back of his neck and he wasted no time in leaning down once more, capturing your lips in a kiss that had butterflies erupting in your tummy.

after tonight, ‘o children’ had certainly become your favorite song.

223 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 3 years

Text

break me like a promise

desc: he wanted to tell you how he felt. he wanted to let himself love you. he wanted to do all of these things, but first he made a promise that nobody would get hurt. but when fred was busy looking out for your heart, who was looking out for his?

word count: 3.8k

pairing: WELL THERE ISN’T ANY PAIRING IS THERE???? because unrequited love sucks and i’m feeling real sad and wanted to make fred feel sad too (sry i’m mad at myself too it’s alright you can hate me)

warning(s): angst/sadness/pure heartbreak/i hate everything

A/N: i’d like to personally apologize to fred weasley/people who love fred weasley. might i suggest listening to the piano version of all too well by taylor swift whilst reading this. feel free to cry with me, thanks. PS: i do NOT give consent for my work to be reposted on any other platform.

Just how many times had he heard the words, “Best friends always fall for one another”?

He’d very much like to tell the people that had told him that to kindly piss off, thank you very much.

He’d been hurt many times before. Of course he had. Fred was used to it at this point, he reckoned his body had adapted easily to the constant blows to the shins or knees and things. As a brother, he was always getting ragged on and wrestled with by his other siblings. He’d ended up with black eyes, split lips, knees to the stomach more times than he could count on two hands. As an athlete, he’d taken countless bludgers to the body, either on the Quidditch pitch or in the comfort of his own backyard. George had been prone to getting hurt, too. Of course, Fred had always jumped at the chance to help George feel better, whenever he needed it. Fred loved being the older of the two. He always took his job as “big brother” very seriously, and it only got stronger once Ron and Ginny were born. He wanted to be somebody they could need.

But there was something different about this type of hurt. He couldn’t control it. He couldn’t make sense of it, and nobody could fix it, not even his own twin.

On the outside, Fred had always put forth an aura of confidence. Nothing could get him down, could it? He’d be dammed if he ever let anyone see him with nothing but a huge grin on his face, that usual mischievous glint in his eye. But on the inside, he was just like everyone else.

As a hoarse cry escaped him, he clamped his hand over his mouth, desperate to not let the sounds of his broken heart echo their way down into the common room, to where his friends were indulging in hot cups of butterbeer, cheering for Harry’s tumultuous win versus the others in the tournament, all the while unaware of Fred, unable to control his emotions and crumpling to the ground like a pit of scrap parchment thrown into the bin.

It was his own fault really. He shouldn’t have been so bloody stupid in the first place. He had this coming from the start. He felt a painful, unfamiliar burn in the back of his throat before his vision turned blurry yet again. He didn’t want to replay the sound of you saying I’m so sorry over and over in his head, like a broken record. He muffled some sort of expletive under his breath, and though he’d never admit it, all he yearned for was nothing more than a tight embrace from his brother.

He shouldn’t have let himself say yes.

He could have said no,

but he would’ve hated himself if he had.

“D’you reckon I’d be able to punch that smirk right off of his ugly little rat face?” you’d asked one day, brows threaded together in annoyance. The two of you were sitting in the middle of a Charms lesson, and you were glancing over toward a Ravenclaw who was busy charming his way through every single female student surrounding him with nothing but the batting of his eyelashes.

You turned back toward Fred and your features twisted into a grin. “I mean, just look at him, would you? What an arrogant little git. Thinks he can just woo his way through a lesson. Ridiculous.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” Fred asked you. Playfully, he elbowed you in the ribs, causing you to recoil a bit, and he continued, “wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that he’d been wooing you? Besides, Y/N, pretty sure I’d heard you ramble on about how he’s the best looking bloke in school,” he flipped his long hair dramatically in an attempt to make fun of you and earned himself a nice punch to the arm.

You frowned and folded your arms across your chest. Sneering a bit, you said, “Yeah, that is until he opened his mouth,” You huffed and narrowed your eyes, “He really is a git, you know.”

“So you’re telling me,” Fred started, “that if he came up to you right this moment and asked you to go to the Yule Ball, you’d reject him?”

You nodded and widened your eyes, as if it were obvious. “Well, of course I would!” Flitwick dismissed you all, and you and Fred and the other students filtered out into the corridors to head to the next lessons. Fred gently guided you through the massive sea of students, and you two found a semi-empty spot near the Great Hall. “Sure, he’s good looking and all, but I don’t quite fancy spending the evening with a bloke who’s going to chat my ear off about the origins of his last name and how his parents are basically royalty, and all that.”

“He does not do that.” Fred laughed.

“Swear to Merlin, he does, Fred.” you replied, folding your hand across your heart. Then your eyes brightened. “Besides, why would I want to go with him when I’m going with you?”

That wasn’t the first time Fred had ever felt his heart soar. He’d been mad for you for years, hadn’t he? Yet, each and every time it took him by surprise, because what the hell was that going on inside of his chest? He never wanted to admit to himself how he felt about you, but it got to the point where he couldn’t deny it anymore; not to himself, at least. But nevertheless, he painted a look of confidence across his face so you wouldn’t be able to tell what he was feeling on the inside. He smirked at you, and watched a bit of panic sweep itself across your features. Your eyes widened. “Shit. I mean, you will go with me, won’t you?”

“Oh, was that the plan? Glad to have been a part of it,” he chuckled, hoping his voice didn’t sound too wobbly. He then poked you in the hips and said, “Of course I will. As long as you promise to not hurt me.”

You peered at him with a confused expression and he laughed. “Relax, Y/N. I mean just don’t step on my bloody feet all night.”

You sucked in a deep breath and then rolled your eyes and slinked your arm with his. “Thank Merlin. You didn’t really think I’d go with anyone else, did you? Come on, Weasley. I expected more of you. Now let’s go -- I reckon we’re in for quite the adventure, aren’t we? Can’t wait to see all these Gryffindors fall flat on their feet when McGonagall begins dance training today!”

You tugged on his hand to lead him into the Great Hall, but he merely floated through the air like a leaf being pushed and gently guided by the wind.

-- -

He shouldn’t have let himself get swept away.

He could have let himself go with someone else,

but he still would’ve been thinking about you.

George and Ron had told him to make a move after the Yule Ball. “Just go for it, mate, what could possibly go wrong? It’s obvious how she feels, isn’t it?” Fred wished he knew then just how wrong it could possibly go.

Fred resisted, though. He didn’t want to ruin a good thing. You two had danced the entire night away, you in your pale pink dress and white trainers. You two had been the last on the floor, and only left merely because Professor McGonagall had tapped you both on the shoulders to let you know that the evening was winding down. The band had stopped playing, anyway. And Fred, keen on wanting to make this a night to remember, kept everything exactly as it was. He gave you a small embrace in the common room at the end of the night before heading up to your respective dormitories. He didn’t want to mess anything up, and so he ignored his brothers’ advice and kept his lips shut.

He then began to panic, just as he always did. He began to pretend as though his feelings were fleeting, if only to fool himself. These feelings for you, they weren’t real, right? The way he wanted to hold you close and dance with you forever, the way he felt his heart constrict at the way your lashes fluttered when you looked down nervously toward your feet when he’d complimented you, the way he wanted desperately to lean in and kiss you at the end of the night. They couldn’t be real, because you two were just friends. Perhaps, he reckoned, maybe it was the excitement of the ball. The decorations. The dresses. He’d decided late that evening, still swimming in his high from the Yule Ball, that it had been exactly that -- the ball. It wasn’t you making him go all romantic, it was merely the excitement of the evening, and the tournament, and everyone being paired off in dates and things. He didn’t really fancy you.

He was proved very, very wrong the next morning when he waltzed into the Great Hall and saw you sitting at the table sipping your tea, back in your everyday clothes, back to normal -- just friends, as it had always been. And yet when you turned toward him and smiled, the sunlight highlighting your features in a way that made his heart jump, he knew that he was in over his head, because of course he was! He was mad for you and always had been, no matter how many times he’d tried to convince himself otherwise.

“Freddie!”

He nervously walked over to the table, suddenly feeling ridiculously self conscious for the first time in his life, and you tugged on his arm so he’d sit himself down next to you.

“Was just telling George here how McGonagall had to basically pull us off of the dance floor last night, eh?” your eyes scrunched near the corners when you smiled so deeply. To George, you continued, “He’s quite the dancer, your brother.”

George sipped his coffee casually. “Oh yeah?” he raised an eyebrow up in surprise and smirked, but not for long, because Fred kicked him inconspicuously underneath the table and he groaned in pain.

This went unnoticed by you, Fred gathered, because you kept on talking without so much as a batted eyelash at the twins’ little rift. “Of course! Wildly talented, he is.” To Fred, you said, “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

Fred couldn’t help the immediate grin that spread across his face. “Yeah, we did.” His voice was soft as ever in his own ears, and everything around you both froze, until he heard George cough a bit on his piece of toast. Fred hated nothing more than being so vulnerable, so he attempted a joke, “Except for all the times you stepped on my feet. Blimey, woman, thought I wasn’t going to be able to walk at the end of the night.”

George started to laugh, and you kicked him under the table and swatted Fred with the sleeve of your sweater. “Hey! It’s real bloody hard to dance gracefully in trainers, alright? It’s too bad this doesn’t happen every year, or I’d be able to prove to you how good I actually am.”

“You mean to tell me you’d go with this git to the Yule Ball every single year if we had one?” George asked, throwing Fred a smirk.

“Why not?” you shrugged. “We make a good team. Why, you jealous, Georgie?” you giggled, reaching across the table and snatching his piece of toast and biting into it. The younger twin just glanced at you, unamused, all while Fred could hardly keep the loud pounding in his heart from growing.

You and George became fully immersed in conversation, but Fred was barely paying attention. He was too busy peering at you, indulging his feelings, because he’d have to be an idiot not too, right? He just keep watching you with a new type of admiration in his eyes, and he admitted to himself right then and there, when you glanced back at him mid-laugh as George made some stupid joke, that he was completely and utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

-- -

He shouldn’t have kissed you.

He could’ve just embraced you like normal,

but he would’ve been yearning to feel your lips on his anyway.

It was the one and only time he got to, and now of course he wished that he hadn’t, because all he could remember of it was the surprise of you and the salt from his own tears as they fell down his cheeks and onto his own lips as he rushed toward the Gryffindor tower.

“Oh, Freddie! You’ll never guess what I’ve just heard,” you’d called to him in a sing-song sort of voice down the corridors. You skipped toward him, bag slung over your shoulder as you made your way through students, only to come face to face with the ginger boy in front of the empty Transfiguration classroom you’d both end up in for lessons later.

“Well you going to keep me waiting, or what?” he asked, a bashful smile on his lips, and he couldn’t quite get over how adorable you looked with that cheeky grin on your face.

“Just had a little chat with Alicia,” you started. You grabbed his arm and shook him, “she needs someone to fill in for her in the upcoming match since Madam Pomfrey still won’t let her play, right? So take a gander, Freddie, at who she picked to replace her?!”

“If the answer isn’t you, then this is a terrible story.” he winked.

You cocked your head to the side and folded your arms across your chest. “Lucky it is me, then, yeah?”

For a moment, he thought you were joking until he noticed the evident sparkle in your eye that could only come from being told you’d be able to play in an upcoming Quidditch match. You didn’t even try and hide your excitement; a huge smile split your face and Fred picked you up in his arms and whirled you around, all while shouting how proud he was of you and how he couldn’t wait to take to the Qudditch pitch with you. “Bloody hell, you’re brilliant! No wonder I’m so mad for you.” You didn’t seem to notice his voice of words, because you just giggled like a little kid in his arms and were breathless when he set you down.

He shouldn’t have done it. He knew that. But with all of the excitement and adrenaline were surging between you both, he just had too. How could he not when you peered at him, eyes filled with wonder? How could he not, when he’d been hiding his feelings for so long? How could he not, when you were mere inches from him, and all he wanted to do was know the taste of you?

He shouldn’t have kissed you, but he did anyway. He placed you down gently and you began rambling on about how the entire Quidditch thing had unfolded a few moments before, and he was so filled with overwhelming love for you that he leant in and slowly pressed his lips to yours. At first he thought your shock was a good thing. Perhaps he’d taken you by surprise in the best way, and you’d melt into him and breathe that you’d been waiting for him to do that forever. You’d tell him that you’ve been crazy for him this entire time too, haven’t you? You’d smile and laugh like a little schoolgirl and tug him into a nearby empty classroom to make up for all the time you two had missed together.

But then you pulled back and pure panic took him over. He searched your nervous eyes and furrowed brows for some sort of answer, but all you seemed to be doing was collecting your thoughts. He watched as you tugged anxiously on the strap of your bag and your face flushed a deep, crimson red. He watched you for answers, but the more he searched, the more he felt like he was caught in a rip tide pulling him further and further from the shoreline.

He opened his trembling mouth to speak, but all that escaped him were nervous “um’s” and you kept on shaking your head. “Fred,” you said hoarsely, and he hated how terribly different and foreign his name sounded on your lips. “What.. what are you doing?”

“I --” he stammered, and he felt like a complete idiot for not being able to get the words out. Since when had Fred Weasley ever been tongue tied? Since when had he ever lost his confidence? Since when had he ever let anyone see him so open.. and bare.. and painfully, heartbreakingly vulnerable?

He couldn’t help but notice just how heavy you were breathing. From nerves, surely, because he was doing the exact same thing. In fact, as deep as he breathed in, he still felt as though he couldn’t fully catch his breath.

“I thought you, erm..” you started, and Fred could see the tears trying to push past your eyelashes, “Fred, we --”

He finally found his voice, because he stupidly blurted out, “I’m mad for you,” and he wished he hadn’t. Your face dropped and you peered at him with a longing he’d never seen before.

Your voice was painfully soft as you looked toward the ground. “You’re -- you’re my best friend, Fred.”

His questions must’ve been written across his face plain as day, because you grabbed his hand and began pleading. “I mean, the Yule Ball, we’d gone as mates, hadn’t we? We’re friends, Fred. We’ve always been friends.”

Bloody hell, how many times could you say the word friends? Felt quite like a dagger straight to his heart.

He wanted to ask, You’ve never felt the same way, have you?

And he knew you’d respond, I love you like a friend, Freddie.

“Fred,” you breathed, and squeezed his hand, but he couldn’t seem to say anything. “Fred, please, I-I’m so sorry,”

With every ounce of strength he had, he swallowed his tears and sadness and vulnerability and painted a smirk onto his face. It didn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes though. “No, listen, don’t.. be sorry, Y/N -- I-I just.. read things wrong, I s’pose. I'm the one who should be sorry.”

By the look in your eye, he knew you didn’t believe him, and he didn’t really believe himself either. How could he possibly be alright when he felt as if he were being thrown from a cliff? You ignored everything he’d just said, and instead opted to try again. “Fred, you’re my best friend -- please, I’m so sorry, I can’t take it if you’re mad at me,”

He hated seeing you cry. He hated seeing you so upset. He cupped your face in his hands and forced out a laugh that could almost pass as real. “Y/N, stop. I’m not mad at you. How could I be mad at you? You’re my best mate! I just.. it’s fine. Let’s forget all about it, alright?” He hoped his voice sounded firm, because he wanted you both to do just that. Forget. Just then, the bell rang and students began pouring out of classrooms and filtering into the corridor. Fred let go of you and looked toward his feet before backing away and meeting your gaze again. “Have got to get to Dark Arts. I’ll see you later, yeah?” he grinned, though his heart was not in it.

Before you could say anything more, or before Fred fell to the ground in pure agony, he walked swiftly passed you in the complete opposite direction of Defense Against the Dark Arts and picked up speed, because he just needed to get to his dormitory. What the hell was this pain he felt in the back of his throat? He didn’t look back -- he couldn’t. He didn’t look back as his vision became blurry, and he didn’t look back to see you standing there in the place he’d left you, a hand clamped over your mouth and tears streaming down your face at the thought of breaking your best friend’s heart.

-- -

He shouldn’t have let himself fall for you.

He could’ve tried seeing someone else,

but he would’ve been fooling himself if he pretended to be in love with anyone but you.

There was no way he’d be able to face you now. He’d stealthily snuck through the crowd in the common room and had ignored the faint sounds of your voice calling his name. Nobody had noticed, really, for they were too busy celebrating Harry’s victorious second place win in the second task and eagerly discussing the third.

He wasn’t hiding it anymore. It was written plain as day on his face, he reckoned, his eyes wet with heartbreak and his cheeks flushed red from all of the crying he’d been doing. How could he have been so stupid? Of course you didn’t feel the same way. You’d said it yourself, hadn’t you? Friends. Always been friends. And that’s all you two would ever be.

Sometime later on, after he’d been lying in bed for upwards of an hour staring at the ceiling, the tears started again. And this time it was worse. This time, they were big, fat, heart-wrenching tears and hoarse cries he couldn’t stop. They were involuntary. Someone quietly made their way into the dormitory. Fred looked up through his blurry vision. It was George.

Being the elder of the two, Fred had always cared a little bit extra about George. How many times had he comforted the younger twin? When George had scraped his knee running around their yard, Fred had cleaned him up. When George had fallen off of his broom and broken his arm, after Molly had warned them not to fly that way, Fred had patched him up. When George had to wear his glasses to lessons one day during their first year and had been made fun of by some annoying, rude Ravenclaw, Fred held George when he cried in their dormitory. So now, when George peered at his older brother biting back tears, he merely bit down on his lip to fight back his own, and opened his arms.

Maybe it was the vulnerability of the moment. Maybe it was because George knew without Fred needing to even tell him. Maybe it was the way that George knew, deep down, just how broken Fred felt. Broken like a promise. Maybe it was a mixture of lots of things that made Fred collapse into his younger brother and not hold back his tears.

Maybe it was the way George had said, “I know, mate,” that made Fred hold onto him a little bit tighter and a little bit longer.

All Fred knew was that, in that moment, his brother was the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

He shouldn’t have fallen in love with you.

He could’ve stopped it, if he’d tried hard enough,

but he would’ve just fallen even harder.

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @acciotwinz @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hufflxpuffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro @valwritesx @heavenlymidnight @hannolannno @msmimimerton @oh-for-merlins-sake @pigwidgexn @sarcasticallywitty15 @breadqueen95 @mycupoffanfiction @pit-and-the-pen @phuvioqhile @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred | message me to be added or removed!

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #weasley twins #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

315 notes · View notes

writing-red · 4 years

Text

The Daughter of the Dog | 1

Fred Weasley x SirusBlacksDaughter!Reader

Summary: That fateful night that would wrongfully land him in Azkaban Sirius Black left his three-year-old daughter at the door of her godfather, Remus Lupin. Now as she enters her fifth year at Hogwarts she is a-fronted by her peers and their outward fear of her presence.

Warnings: bullying, cussing, slow burn relationship, bullying, asshole teachers (Snape.)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: If y’all like this I’ll continue on with this :)

chapter one, chapter two

“Remus you can’t make me go to school this year. Everyone there already hates me, and now that dad is all over the Daily Prophet, it’ll all just be worse,” you made your case to your godfather for the hundredth time this summer since your father had broken out of Azkaban.

“Y/n, you have friends who will have your back,” Remus said, he felt terrible, and he knew you were right, but he also knew how important it was for you to be at Hogwarts. “I’ll be there, and Dumbledore and McGonagall will make sure nothing happens.”

“Gryffindor’s aren’t as nice as you think they are,” you retorted. “And I do not have friends, that’s a joke. Everyone despises me, even some of my bloody professors hate me,” you were particularly referencing Snape who’d had it out for you since your name had been called for sorting your first year.

“That’s impossible, of course, you have friends, what about the twins?” he asked, and you ignored him. It was true that you were close with Fred and George, but you felt that virtually everyone other than those two Weasley’s hated you.

“I’m glad you, dad, and Uncle James were just so popular when you went to school, and everyone just bloody loved you, but it isn’t the same for me,” you said, finally deciding you were done with the argument and storming upstairs, you knew that Remus wasn’t going to budge about his decision, but you’d put up as much of a stink as you could, and being that September 1st was only a week away you figured your case had failed.

Remus let you storm out, you were fifteen, and he understood that you were going through a lot. Not only were you a teenager and dealing with all of the joys of puberty, but you were the daughter of an assumed murderer, which couldn’t make school much fun. He could only imagine the ways your peers used that to torment you. He couldn’t forget the minuscule things James and Sirius would agonize Severus Snape over when they had been in school. On top of all that, twelve years ago, your father had left you on Remus’ doorstep with a note on your forehead that read:

‘Peter rated out James and Lily, I’m going to Godrics Hollow, if anything happens, take care of Y/n, she doesn’t have anyone else.’

He was right, your mother had died at the hands of Lucius Malfoy before your first birthday, and her parents had died long ago, Sirius didn’t want you anywhere near his parents, neither Sirius nor your mother had living siblings, and Remus was your only named Godparent. You grew up with both of your parents, and all of your family ripped away from you. You had been left only with good memories of the man the world was trying to tell you was evil and a note you had used as evidence of his innocence.

Despite everything, Remus didn’t mind having you around in the least, you were a carbon copy of your parents, just an absolute firecracker, and he loved you just as much as your parents had. While he anticipated his situation to be a problem it wasn’t, as whenever necessary, Molly Weasley would take you in for however long Remus needed. However, your third year, you took a page out of your father’s book, and while at school, you learned how to become an animagus on your own, so that when you returned home that summer, you were able to stay with your godfather though all of his sessions, and help. Remus found as you grew up that you took care of him as much as he took care of you, he was eternally grateful to have you in his life. Now, with everything going on in your life and all the trauma you had ensued, he couldn’t blame you for lashing out. He just wished he could be of more help.

You didn’t argue with Remus about going to school again, and on August 31st, you begrudgingly packed up your trunk in anticipation of your journey to Hogwarts. You and Remus lived in a house you had inherited from your mother in Burford, West Oxfordshire, it was far enough outside town to be safe for Remus, and it was protected with old magic as it had been in your family for centuries. Being that it’s only over an hour-long drive to London, Remus usually drove you to King’s Cross, but since he was going with you to Hogwarts this year, you both took an early train to London, arriving in perfect time to catch the Hogwarts Express.

When you boarded the train, you split ways with Remus as you were due in the prefect compartment so that you could do your rounds. Prefect duty was another thing you were dreading this year, you were sure that no one would be willing to listen to you considering your situation, and you genuinely had no clue why Professor McGonagall wanted you as a prefect anyways.

During your round, you found that your assumptions were correct, no one would listen to you, and you only found yourself getting angry every time you noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet with your father’s mugshot on the cover. He hadn’t aided in the murder of your Uncle James and Aunt Lily, he hadn’t a reason to, James had been his best friend. Not only that, but nobody knew half the story you and Remus knew, but of course, no one wanted to listen to you, and the only evidence you had was the note he had left on your forehead, which was, of course, deemed unreliable. You were sure Peter was out there somewhere, and you were optimistic that if you could find him, you would be able to clear your father’s name, but you had no clue where you could start.

You past by the compartment Harry, Ron, and Hermione frequented to find your godfather sleeping in the corner, that man did love his naps, although you were curious why they had chosen to sit in a compartment with a sleeping professor in it, but you brushed it off. The three had a knack for making odd decisions that never failed to land them into trouble of some sort.

You continued walking down the corridor, keeping to yourself, not finding anyone to be breaking any severe rules. You had decided that as a prefect, your policy would be that if it wasn’t happening in front of you, you wouldn’t report it. After experiencing Percy Weasley’s tyrannical rain, the last thing you wanted was to subject other students to such tyranny. You remained in your thoughts till you passed by Draco Malfoy’s compartment, where the door was wide open.

“Oi! Black!” You heard Malfoy yell as you approached his compartment. “Surprised, they let you come this year considering your murderer father is loose.”

You elected to ignore him and continue walking, biting back the insults you wanted so badly to throw back.

“Or I guess you’re nothing like your father, more the chicken type like your pathetic moth-”

You swung around, resisting the urge the pull your wand out and land a nasty jinx on the prick, “You’re one to speak Malfoy, considering your father is a cowardly murderer who hides behind money and lies. Now, if you want to lose another twenty points from Slytherin before we even arrive at Hogwarts, I suggest you keep running your mouth,” you said without breaking a sweat, silence from Malfoy and his posse following. “I thought so,” you said before continuing on your round.

You made it to the end of the train and turned around to do your final walkthrough you intended to stop into the section Remus was in and see if he had awoken. As you walked down the corridor, you noted the cold fog that rolled alongside the train, the ride to Hogwarts was rarely this cold. As you approached the compartment door, the train came to a screeching halt, and you were thrown up against the door, startling its occupants. You hurried to your feet and entered as Harry Potter opened the door.

“What’s going on?” Ron Weasley asked. You stood back against the door as the lights in the train flickered out.

“I know just as much as you do,” you said, trying your best to push aside any fear.

From his seat, Harry was giving you a weird look. Meanwhile, Ron pressed himself against the window that had begun frosting.

“Ouch, Ron, that was my foot,” Hermione complained.

Ron ignored his clumsiness, concerned with whatever he saw outside the train, “There’s something moving out there.”

With that, the lights turned on and then off again, the train rocking and ice encapsulating the carriage. No longer trusting your own legs, you rushed to take a seat on the bench Harry and Remus were on, though you kept your distance, still grimly aware of the rumours that had been flying around the train regarding your father. Although, your thoughts were stopped as the train halted again, and your breath turned to ice.

“Bloody hell! What’s happening?” Ron cried.

All of your heads turned to the carriage’s door as a lanky robed creature with a hand like that of a skeleton’s slowly eased opened the door. As it approached, you could feel nothing but true sadness echo through your body and mind. It was a coldness you felt would never leave you. The thing you recognized as a dementor entered, looming off of the ground and ignoring everything but you and Harry. The dementor paused as if unsure of which one of you was worth its time. Discerning what was happening and uncertain of what else to do, you rose to your feet to act as a barrier between Harry and the dementor. As a result of your action, and your misery now clear to the creature, it started to feed off of you. At some point, you saw a blast of bright light, but the second it and the dementor disappeared, your fainted, falling to the floor.

“Y/n, Harry?” you heard Hermione’s voice as your eyes flickered open. “Professor are they going to be alright?”

You rose to a seated position to find yourself lying on the floor, Harry on the bench above you, Ron crunched in his corner, a very concerned Hermione Granger hovering over you, and Remus ready with a bit of chocolate as always.

“Here, eat this, it’ll help,” he said as he offered you and Harry the chocolate which you graciously took.

“What was that thing that came?” Harry asked.

“It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban,” He explained to Harry before looking at you, “It’s gone now,” he assured before turning back to Harry to finish answering his question. “It was searching the train for Sirius Black.”

You swallowed your bite of the chocolate quite loudly, uncomfortable with the information at hand.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver,” Remus rose, leaving the chocolate bar with you. “Eat, you’ll feel better.” Remus assured Harry before leaving and heading to the front of the train.

You broke the chocolate bar in half and gave it to Harry, “It does help.”

“Harry fainted just after you did,” Hermione explained. You had quickly noticed before fainting that the dementor didn’t affect Ron or Hermione half as much as it had you and Harry.

“What exactly happened?” Harry asked as he took a bite of the chocolate.

“Well, after Y/n fainted, you went rigid, we thought you were having- well a fit or something,” Ron explained.

“Dementors feed on feelings of depression and despair,” you explained.

“Is that why-”

“You felt like you could never be happy again?” you finished Ron’s thought and nodded. “Exactly.”

“But someone was screaming,” Harry said, the memory alive in his eyes. “A woman.”

“No one was screaming, Harry,” said Hermione.

“I heard screaming too,” you said, looking over at him. A silence settled over the carriage once more, causing the reality of your parentage to come crashing over you yet again. You shakily rose to your feet, not exactly well just yet. “I should be going- prefect, duty- let me know if you need anything else.” And before anyone could protest, you were out of the compartment and walking back down the train corridor.

Before you could very much think about it, you entered Fred and George’s compartment, quite unsure of where else you might have been welcome.

“Y/n!” The twins chimed when you entered.

“Sit,” Fred started

“Yeah,” George said.

“We’ve got a question for you,” they finished together.

“A question, for me? Now, what would that be?” You asked as you squeezed onto the bench in between the two despite the empty one just across from you. Although, you assumed Lee Jordan had been sitting there and was just off to use the loo as his bag was up above that spot.

“We’ll show you, but you’ve got to promise us you won’t show anybody,” George said as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“Anybody,” Fred echoed.

“I won’t show anybody, promise,” You spoke in the same playfully serious tone as the twins while George placed a blank piece of folded parchment onto your lap.

Fred placed the tip of his wand onto the map but caught your eye and held eye contact with you as he said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” winking at you as he finished.

Before you maroon lines and lettering unfurled, curling onto the parchment.

‘The Marauders Map’

A smile found its way onto your face as you realized what was before you. Your eyes lighting up as they followed the script that started to write out names you recognized instantly.

‘Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs are proud to present,’

Your smile widened, you knew exactly what this was. Remus had told you plenty of stories of his and your fathers’ school antics, and the Marauders Map was often mentioned.

“Now, Black,” said George.

“That smile seems to say something,” said Fred.

“We’ve got a feeling,” they continued in unison. “That you know who created this masterpiece.”

You looked up at the two of them, your smile not at all lost. “What’s it to you?” you asked. Of course, you knew, but you loved messing around with them.

“Pure curiosity,” Fred smirked.

“Even if I do know who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are, why should I tell you two?” You asked.

“Because you looove Fred,” George said, and you shot him a glare that easily could have killed him right where he sat. “Because we’re your favorite people at Hogwarts?” He said, quick to edit his sentence.

“Alright, but I want you to let me in on all of your pranks this year. Think about the benefits of having a prefect on your side,” you said, then smoothly leaning forward to allow the twins to deliberate in peace. They caught on in a matter of seconds.

“She’s not wrong,” started Fred, and he rested back against the seat.

“And she’s quite smart,” continued George, following his twin.

“And she has information we want.”

“And you do love her,” George teased his twin.

“And we can trust her,” Fred added in an attempt to ignore George’s jab at his long-standing crush.

“Alright then,” the twins said in harmony, and you all resumed your previous positions. “Who is it?” They asked you.

“Peter Pettigrew,” you started. “Remus Lupin, James Potter,” they breathed in, obviously not having expected to hear the name of Harry’s dad. “And Sirius Black.” You said, your chest swelling with pride.

“Your dad!” started Fred excitedly

“Was a marauder?” They asked at once, and you nodded.

“Well, that makes you pranking royalty,” George said and mocked a bow.

“I would say it does, now I am excited to be working with you two gentlemen this year.”

“We are honored to be in your presence, oh Queen of the Pranks,” Fred got off of his seat and turned to give you a proper bow, prompting another giggle from you, which you didn’t notice Fred blush bright red.

“Boys we have some work to do,” you said, offering your hand as you had seen Queens do before to Fred. He took your hand and gently placed a kiss on it, this time causing a soft blush to rise to your cheeks.

Your train ride continued to be full of playful banter between the four of you, the boys full of questions about your dad’s time at Hogwarts, and you were excited to answer them as best you could. Although in the end, you couldn’t help but be entirely grateful that Fred and George hadn’t written you off along with the rest of the school, even more thankful that they hadn’t also written off your dad. When you arrived at the school, you shared a carriage with the twins, Lee Jordan, and Angelina Johnson, none of whom seemed bothered by your presence. It appeared for the moment that this year wouldn’t be too bad. You expected to resume your spot on the quidditch team as a chaser along with those before you, and the pranks you had already begun planning with the twins occupied your mind.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore caught the school’s attention as he assumed his place at the post at the top of the hall. “I have a few things to say before we become befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R. J. Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Good luck, you, Professor.”

At this, the twins turned their eyes from Dumbledore to you, clearly asking if that was the Lupin you had said to be Moony of the Marauders, to which you confirmed with one nod.

“Wicked,” they said in unison, and you winked at them.

“As some of you may know, Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I’m delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!”

You, along with few others who knew and appreciated Hagrid, applauded at this news as Hagrid rose from his seat and jovially waved at the school, although he nearly toppled the staff table, sending goblets over the side of the table.

“Finally, on a more disquieting note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban. Now, whilst I’ve been assured until such a time as Sirius Black is captured.”

Whispers filled the Great Hall as you swallowed the nerves that rose in your throat as best you could

“Well we’ve got his daughter right over there. Why don’t we just give ’em her! She’s probably a murderer herself!” You heard a boy from the Slytherin table yell quite violently. His idea was supported by a few cheers from those around him and a girl who was sitting next to him following up.

“Yeah, how are we supposed to know she isn’t scheming to sneak in her murderous father to kill us all!” The girl yelled, and you could only feel yourself sinking into the bench as every Hogwarts student’s eyes were now on you.

“Oi! Pucey, watch it, or I’ll hex your ear off!” George quickly stood and yelled in your defense.

“That! Is quite enough!” Dumbledore boomed. “I will not have Miss Black questioned or judged for her being here. Anyone who wishes to contest this may bring it up directly with me.”

With that, Dumbledore continued on with his speech in particular regard to the presence of the dementors, but his words respecting you did nothing to ease the anxiety boiling in the pit of your stomach. At this point, you were wondering why you hadn’t followed in your mum’s steps and gone to Beauxbatons.

“Are you alright?” Fred asked, noting the color that had drained from your face.

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

Fred could tell you weren’t fine, and why should you be? He could feel the hostile looks coming from every corner of the room, some even coming from the professor’s table. He wanted to help in any way he could, and he knew that the most he could do is have your back for the time being.

When Dumbledore finally called this year’s feast to an end, you rose to your feet as Percy had asked you and Robert Greene, the other fifth year Gryffindor prefect, to walk the first years back to the common room.

You rose to your feet, “Your darling brother has decided I’ll be escorting the first years back to the common room, so I’ll see you back there after?” You honestly did not want to be left alone tonight and was hoping to spend more time with the twins.

“We’ll find a good spot by the fire,” George said, and you smiled at him, grateful.

You left and rounded up the first years, some of whom had no clue who you were and some who were clearly afraid of you and clung to the front of the line where Percy and Robert were. But you brushed it off. It wasn’t half as bad as Pucey calling you a murderer in front of the entire school. The walk didn’t last long, and Percy capitalized the whole thing to flaunt his power over the eleven-year-olds allowing you to remain silent and with your thoughts. You split when you made it to the common room, sure that Percy was so wrapped up in his spiel that he wouldn’t miss you.

“Black!” George wailed. “We’ve missed you dearly.”

“How could you dare to leave us for so long?” Fred cried, and you giggled at their antics, sitting on the couch next to Fred.

“I’m very, incredibly, sorry for the time I have spent away but do know that you were each on my heart and in my thoughts the entire time we were apart,” you joined in, causing Fred to laugh, which brought a shade of pink to your cheeks, recently you found how his laugh made the butterflies in your stomach ruffle their wings.

“Anyone else wanna know why Dumbledore’s let a murderer’s daughter live in our dorm?” you heard Seamus Finnigan say loudly enough for the entire common room to hear. “It makes me feel unsafe I don’t know about you.”

“Yeah if he comes to Hogwarts, this’ll be the first place he comes.”

You sharply rose to your feet and turned to face Finnigan, “Actually you’re right Finnigan, I’ve been in contact with my dad, who has been in Azkaban my entire life, planning to come to a school and kill a bunch of children. I am so so bummed you’ve found out my plan. So everyone keeps an eye open while you’re sleeping. I might just appear over your bed in the middle of the night, ready to murder you.”

As you were speaking, Fred and George stood to defend you. Meanwhile, Seamus’s face fell white with fear at your words.

“Anyways aren’t you meant to be a Gryffindor, Finnigan, aren’t you meant to be brave? Because speaking behind people’s backs is about the most cowardly thing someone can do,” you said, anger rising in you. Although, you did not notice Professor McGonagall enter as you were talking.

“She deserves to be here just as much as the rest of you,” Fred boomed to the now silent common room.

“Good evening, everyone,” McGonagall cut in. “I was planning to come up tonight to ensure that Miss Black was being respected as a peer and as a prefect although that clearly hasn’t happened,” she said, shooting a look at Seamus Finnigan. “As she just said, it is expected that you as Gryffindors conduct yourselves with bravery and with understanding for your peers. Should any of you feel that you do not have to listen to or that you are above Y/n because of her parentage, you can come to me for a detention. I will not permit any intolerance of her presence. Is that understood?”

A few people started slowly nodding, causing the rest of your housemates to nod in understanding of what Professor McGonagall had to say.

“Good, now I will be taking ten points from our house for Mr. Finnigan’s comments,” a groan fell over the room, “You shall also be meeting me for detention in my office tomorrow night at seven. However, ten points to Miss Black and ten points to Mr. Weasley for standing up for oneself and for one’s friends.” With that, Professor McGonagall left, leaving the Gryffindors in silence.

“Go about your nights,” Percy called to the house, and everyone dispersed, although you heard the drama start to circulate, no matter what McGonagall said, you knew that you would never escape the judgement of your peers.

“Merlin, and classes haven’t even started yet,” you huffed as you collapsed back onto the couch next to Fred.

“We’ve got your back, Y/n,” Fred said as he put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Promise,” you implored.

“Promise,” he assured.

chapter two

#Sirius Black's daughter #au #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #Sirius Black #Harry Potter #harry potter au #daughter of the dog

573 notes · View notes