#cruel summer fic fest

[voldemorts-tap-shoes]

Era #3 of @cruelsummer-ficfest

Red ❤️ / Lover 💗

Nothing New

Ron didn’t bat an eye when she said they should postpone the wedding.

While everyone else was distracted squealing over Ginny’s lavish ring and slapping Harry on the back in congratulations, Ron had looked over at her from across the living room at the Burrow, and she got the sense that they both knew it was coming. Knew the words she would say when they stepped out into the orchard for a breath of fresh air, away from the suffocating happiness of the new engagement, because she’d had them stuffed away for a while and Ron had always been extremely perceptive—that was nothing new.

And it wasn’t even about Harry and Ginny; that was just the spark that lit the mountain of insecurities building up inside her. They were supposed to get married in a month, and at this point, cold feet would have been an improvement.

Ron hadn’t even argued with her, just nodded and said, “I’ll tell Mum,” and though Hermione knew that the news would break Molly’s heart, she also knew that with those three words, everything would be taken care of. Molly would take care of everything because Molly was great at taking care of things. Hermione wasn’t even great at taking care of Ron, and worse at taking care of herself. What about the everything else that would come along once they were married—a house, a family? What if she couldn’t do it? Ron deserved better.

So he’d gone inside and told his mum to postpone the wedding—postpone, not cancel, she was very clear about that. Hermione had followed and told Ginny she was happy for her before she went home and cried herself to sleep.

***

They still kept separate flats for reasons they’d never bothered to look too closely at, always quick with a rationale. Hermione’s place was closer to work. Ron kept odd hours working his shifts as an Auror. They slept most nights together at one place or the other, anyway, so what difference did it make if they hadn’t officially lived under the same roof since Hogwarts?

At least, it hadn’t felt like it made a difference until the old beaded bag Hermione used as an overnighter sat untouched in her closet for a week, and she went to sleep every night in a bed too big for just her, bribing Crookshanks with treats so there was some warmth between the sheets to sooth the nightmares she had never managed to fully squash.

They still saw each other every day, and the simple diamond ring never left its place on Hermione’s finger, and she told herself that it wasn’t a big deal, the pause they had put on their wedding. It wasn’t like they had broken up.

But sometimes at night, sharing a bed with only her second-favorite ginger, it felt like they had.

***

Ginny wanted to look at wedding dresses right away, because of course she did. She looked radiant in everything, lighting up the room in one gorgeous gown after the next. People love an ingenue, and Ginny certainly was that, between her meteoric rise to Quidditch stardom and her fairytale romance with the Boy-Who-Lived-Long-Enough-to-Defeat-Voldemort. Witch Weekly was already heralding the Potter-Weasley wedding as the social event of the year—though which year wasn’t specified, as they hadn’t even set a date yet.

Hermione wasn’t exactly faking smiles as Ginny changed from satin to lace to brocade, but she was definitely forcing them. She thought of the tulle monstrosity she had let her mum talk her into selecting, safely tucked away at the tailor’s for the time being, and took another large swig of champagne.

Maybe it was the dress. When they had started planning the wedding, they had discussed Muggle traditions versus wizarding ones and all the superstitions that went along with them. Apparently “don’t see the bride in her dress before the wedding” was a universal no-no, so when she wanted Ron’s opinion about the poofy princess gown, he had assured her she would look beautiful in whatever she picked—which was very sweet but not at all helpful.

As usual, Hermione hadn’t relented, and Ron finally agreed to let her show him something similar—he remained insistent that he didn’t want to see the dress—in one of the bridal magazines scattered around her flat. But he had just sort of shrugged and said, “I dunno, it looks pretty,” which also didn’t help, and so she had stuck with the decision but maybe also cursed their wedding in the process.

So maybe it was the dress.

***

“You didn’t have to come,” Ginny said later over dinner, when it was just the two of them and not every one of their female relatives and what felt like half of the Harpies team. “I shouldn’t have even asked, considering.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and scooped another mouthful of pasta. “I’m your maid of honour.”

“You’re my best friend first,” Ginny retorted. “I’m glad you were there, but—”

“No buts. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Ginny spoke again. “You’ll figure it out, you know. It’s you and Ron. You always do.”

An innocent farfalle noodle bore the brunt of Hermione’s frustration as she stabbed it with her fork. “I think I really fucked it up this time.”

“Nah.” Ginny’s nonchalance was equal parts reassuring and infuriating. “You just need to figure out what’s bothering you. What scares you? Is it the wedding or is it the marriage?” Hermione didn’t answer immediately, taking another pesto-covered victim, and Ginny dropped her fork with a clatter, eyes wide. “Okay, I thought that would be an easy one.”

“Well, it’s both, but it’s not the marriage. I mean, it’s not about Ron.” If she was sure of anything, it was that her doubts were absolutely, definitely not about Ron. “It’s…marriage. In general. What if I’m not any good at it?”

“Not any good at what?”

“Wife things. The cooking and the cleaning and the taking care of kids…I’m terrible at that stuff.”

Ginny snorted. “Ron knows. Trust me, we all know.”

“Thanks for that.”

“I’m just saying. He knows who he’s marrying, Hermione.”

“But what if I don’t change? He’s already Victoire’s favorite uncle, so I know he’ll be super-dad when the time comes, and then will he still want me when I’m nothing new, the same old Hermione who burns baby formula and always picks out the wrong toy?”

“Okay, I hope this is as stupid a question as I think it is but…does Ron want you to change?”

“Well, no—I mean, he hasn’t said—”

“Then you’re bloody mental. I say that with love.” Ginny reached across the table for Hermione’s hand. “Look, I can tell you this stuff until I’m blue in the face—and I will, if you want—but I think you need to hear it from Ron. It doesn’t mean anything coming from me.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m totally right. At the end of the day, you’ve got to have your head on straight going into this, so take whatever time you need. But talk to Ron. And if you need help re-planning the entire wedding, I’m your girl.”

“It has gotten a bit out of hand, hasn't it? My parents were just so excited about everything, especially my mum. I didn’t want to let them down.”

“I’ve only been engaged for a week, and I’ve already seen all too well how the plans just spiral when you’re the only daughter. I’m sure it’s worse as an only child. But it’s not their wedding.”

“You’re right again.”

“No shit.” Ginny gave her a soft smile to balance the quip. “Talk to Ron,” she said again. “You’ll figure it out.”

***

She’d had too much to drink tonight, champagne at the bridal shop followed by merlot at dinner, which should have knocked her clean out til morning. But it was the middle of the night, and Hermione was awake.

Hermione was awake, and she wanted Ron.

His flat was silent when she Flooed in, and for a moment she almost turned around and went home, not wanting to wake him up, too. But then she heard her name from his bedroom, his voice low and questioning and enticing, and her feet carried her toward the sound without hesitation.

Ron was half sitting up in bed, and he didn’t look like he’d been woken by her arrival. He probably hadn’t been sleeping either, though he didn’t look half the wreck she knew she did. She thought she’d utterly ruined things between them, but he looked just the same as always. Maybe he wasn’t as torn up by the wedding postponement as she was.

Or maybe she just hadn’t ruined things and needed to stop jumping to all the worst conclusions.

Hermione slipped under the sheets beside Ron and tucked herself against his side, breathing out a contented sigh when his arms wrapped around her. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” She pressed her nose against his neck and inhaled, letting the scent of sandalwood soothe her nerves. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh. Don’t be sorry.” His hand slid up and down her back, the motion tugging her t-shirt up to expose a strip of bare skin underneath, and she shivered as the cooler air hit it. Ron slept in practically nothing and still radiated heat, and she snuggled closer to him. “I just need to know you’re okay.”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“You. Us.” She pulled away to look at him, afraid of what she would find in his expression. “How badly I’ve screwed things up.”

Ron leaned in and kissed her, and she let herself get lost in it for a moment before he pulled away to reply. “You haven’t.”

“You still want to marry me?”

“Anytime, anywhere.” He sat back and raised an eyebrow at her, and she felt like an entire ocean had formed between them. “But I’m not the one who wanted to postpone the wedding.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said again, and Ron shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. Just talk to me. What’s going on?”

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to quiet all of the thoughts and fears that swirled in her mind enough to get the words out to explain. Ron may as well have been a boggart sitting there as anxiety took hold again. But a boggart didn’t have Ron’s bright blue eyes, full of love and concern for her, or the warm hand that enclosed her fingers in his with a gentle squeeze.

“I’m scared of failing.”

She watched his lips twitch up with half a smile, and she knew he was thinking what a Hermione thing to say, but he just nodded for her to continue.

“I’m scared I won’t be good enough for you, that I’ll be a terrible wife and a terrible mother and then we’ll just be biding our time until I lose your attention and you find someone else who can be those things for you.”

“Hermione,” Ron started, and her name was almost a laugh, because she was being ridiculous, and in her rational brain, she knew she was being ridiculous, but she just couldn’t shake it. “I don’t want anyone else. Not now, not ever. Did—” He turned suddenly serious as he paused. “Did I say something? Or do something, to make you feel—”

“No!” Hermione hurried to interject, and Ron’s face relaxed. “No, it’s not you at all. I’ve just—I don’t know. How can a person know everything at eighteen and nothing at twenty-two?”

“Hermione, you’ve forgotten more than most people know in a lifetime. What are you on about?”

“I know how I feel about you. I love you more than anything, it’s not that. When we were young and we had first gotten together, it all sounded so easy—to be fair, everything sounded easy at the time after the hunt and the locket and Voldemort—but I had this perfect little fantasy about our life together. Now that it’s here and it’s real—I’m just overwhelmed.”

Ron exhaled and then pulled her into his embrace again. She settled against him like she was made to fit there, her cheek against his chest, her legs braided with his, and she knew that everything would be okay. She wasn’t sure how or when, but everything would be okay as long as she had Ron.

“I can’t tell you that our life is going to be perfect, but I’d like to think we’re pretty damn close.”

“This feels pretty perfect, right now.”

“And all the things you’re worried about���being some master chef, and never putting a diaper on backwards, or whatever—Hermione, those aren’t the things that are going to make you a good wife or mum. The love you have for the people in your life is what makes you those things.”

“You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

“Prat.” Hermione chuckled and gave him a light slap on the arm. “I wish we could just get married like this. That’s the other thing, I let the wedding plans get way out of hand.”

“Okay. Why don’t we?”

“Why don’t we what?”

“Get married.”

“When?”

“Now. Tonight.”

“What do you mean? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I mean, the wedding is a party. The marriage is just a spell. Like an Unbreakable Vow, but…y’know, happier.” Ron untangled them enough to look her in the eye, to gauge her reaction, but she already knew what her answer would be to his crazy idea. “We’ll go wake up Harry or George or someone and have them do it. Just for us. No one else even has to know. And then, whenever we’re ready, we’ll have the wedding. As planned, or toned down if you’d rather. And look, you’re already wearing white.”

He tugged at the hem of her t-shirt—it was his, really, one of many things she had swiped from his wardrobe over the years—and gave her the grin she loved so much. Hermione smiled back as she replied, “This is completely mental, you know.”

“Well that’s nothing new, for us. Is that a yes?”

Hermione threw her arms around Ron’s neck and kissed him, pulling back only when she realized if they didn’t stop now they might not leave the bed til morning. And she didn’t want to wait any longer to marry the man she loved.

“Absolutely. Yes.”

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron x hermione #harry potter #cruel summer fic fest

[adenei]

Dress

Pick any song you want for Era 6 from what's left? Well, don't mind if I do!! Best surprise ever from @cruelsummer-ficfest !

Naturally, I needed to seize the opportunity and write a follow up to Look What You Made Me Do.

So, here is Dress!

Word Count: 702

Somehow, the plan worked. Hermione got what she wanted—Ron as her date to Slughorn’s party. That’s where they’re heading now. Well, they were until Ron suddenly grabs her arm and yanks her with him behind a tapestry into an abandoned alcove.

“What—”

He cuts her off as he sets an Imperturbable charm around the space. She presses up against the cold stone wall, shivering as her exposed skin touches the material thanks to the shimmery backless burgundy dress she picked out specifically for this occasion—specifically for Ron.

“Sorry. I, uh, wanted to ask you a question before we got to the party.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “And you couldn’t have asked on the way there?”

“Well…no.”

“Okay, then what is it?” 

“It’s just that—I mean—I’m not with Lav anymore…obviously. But she was really confused and swore she never ended things with me. That she was sleeping in her dorm that night and—”

Hermione folds her arms over her chest, subsequently pushing up on her chest and making her cleavage more pronounced. The movement distracts him for a split second before she responds. “Why would I know anything about that?”

She does her best to keep a straight face, though the corner of her mouth threatens to turn up into a tiny smirk as she averts her gaze. His bright blue eyes burn into her and she’s too aware that he’s trying to read her. To see any weakness in her guard.

He shrugs. “Dunno. I just happened to notice your nails were painted the same color as Lav’s that morning and you never use that stuff.”

“Did I?” She bites her lip.

“And I could have sworn when Lav was heading up the staircase her hair shifted from blonde and straight to brown and curly but—maybe I was exhausted and seeing things.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

His eyes narrow and it’s clear that Ron was far more observant about the whole situation than Hermione realized. Heat rises in her cheeks as Ron steps closer with growing confidence. 

“But the barmiest thing is that the snog didn’t feel like Lav at all. And not just because she kept her tongue in her mouth.”

“Maybe she only saves that feature for thriving relationships,” Hermione mutters.

A lopsided grin breaks out onto Ron’s face. “Ha!”

“What?” Hermione’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion.

“Any time you’d walk by us you’d always snarl in disgust before leaving the room. You didn’t even flinch when I mentioned it just now.”

Hermione scoffs. “Why were you noticing me when you were supposed to be snogging your girlfriend?”

His hand slips onto her hip with the slightest hesitation as he closes the gap between them. “I figured by now that was obvious. Snogging her after the match was a mistake, and I was happy to have an out that didn’t make me look like the bad guy.”

She attempts to grasp the wall from behind her to keep her hands from shaking. All of the silence and patience, pining in anticipation over the last two years will be worth it if this is the moment. Hermione desperately waits for more.

“Hermione.” He says her name and everything stops. “You used polyjuice, didn’t you?”

A soft chuckle escapes her lips. “You’re going to make a great Auror, you know that?”

“Answer the question,” he says with a grin.

Her eyelids flutter as she keeps her gaze trained on his lips. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought it was clear when I invited you to the party. I don’t want you like a best friend.”

His grin splits even wider. “Brilliant.”  His hands grip her sides more confidently now that she’s all but admitted she fancies him. “You know, I was kind of hoping you weren’t going to admit it so I could kiss you and confirm my suspicions that way.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Really?”

She flashes a coy smile. “At least this time there won’t be an excuse to make me stop.”

“But what about the party?” he asks, though his head dips lower so their noses touch.

“I don’t think we’ll be missed.”

Ron doesn’t need another invitation as his lips crash into hers.

Only bought this dress so you could take it off…

#romione #ron x hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #hp fanfic #ron weasley x hermione granger #cruel summer fic fest #ronmione

[cruelsummer-ficfest]

Hey Kids—Reading is Fun!

Dear Readers,

Your mods (@femme--de--lettres and @greyeyedmonster-18) are beside themselves with how many of you have participated in Cruel Summer Fic Fest: The Eras Tour this year.

From full novel-length fics to poetry, from microfics to multi-chaptered works and everything in between, we've been blown away—enchanted, even—by this year's submissions. This fest started as a labor of love for both of us as avid Swifties and HP fic authors and we couldn't have imagined in our wildest dreams the way you've embraced it with open arms.

With that said, we're pleased to offer the below list of this year's love stories. Due to tumblr restrictions on tagging, we weren't able to tag all of the individual author tumblr accounts (something something look what you made us do something something) so we've tried to link to ao3 as much as possible, but if you like a fic—check out that author's ao3! We've tried to connect you as directly to the mainstream of what each author writes in that respect, so if you happen to find a new fave, you can show them more love on the rest of their works!

To make a long story short, the majority of these works can be found in the Cruel Summer Fic Fest: The Eras Tour collection on ao3—with a catalogue of over 100 works, there's something for everybody, and we hope you'll take a peek at this year's truly incredible works.

We've had the time of our life fighting dragons with you, but sometimes, you know in your soul when it's time to go.

Thanks for making this cruel summer another one for the books.

Until Next Time,

Your Mods (Grey and Andie)

Cruel Summer Fic Fest: The Eras Tour

(all fics are followed by the character, relationship, or pairing that each work focused on. for the purposes of our list, both "x" and "/" indicate some level of romantic relationship, while "&" entails a platonic or otherwise friendly one)

Era One (Debut/Midnights)

Stay Beautiful (Regulus x James)

Sweet Nothing (Ted Tonks x Andromeda Black)

Midnight Rain (Sirius x Remus)

A Perfectly Good Heart (Harry/Fred/George)

Bigger Than the Whole Sky (Lavender x Pansy)

Anti-Hero (Sirius x Remus)

Tim McGraw (James x Lily)

Invisible  (Harry x Ginny)

Should've Said No (Ron x Hermione)

Dear Reader (Draco x Astoria, Part 1 of 6)

Glitch (Bellatrix Black x Voldemort)

The Outside (Ron x Hermione)

Bejeweled (Ron x Hermione)

Maroon  (Ron x Hermione)

Teardrops on My Guitar (Ron x Hermione)

Mastermind (Ron x Hermione)

Era Two (1989/Evermore)

Wonderland (Snape x Trelawney)

Dorothea (Sirius x Remus)

New Romantics (Regulus x Lily)

You Are In Love (James x Lily)

Wildest Dreams (Sirius x James)

Long Story Short (Draco x Harry)

This Love  (Pandora x Lily)

All You Had to Do Was Stay (Hermione x Pansy)

Shake It Off (Draco x Harry)

I Wish You Would (James x Lily)

Blank Space   (Ron x Hermione)

I Know Places (Draco x Hermione)

Gold Rush (Ron x Hermione)

Welcome to New York  (Sirius x Remus)

Style (Bellatrix x Voldemort)

Happiness (Narcissa Black x Emmeline Vance)

Tis the Damn Season (Harry x Bill Weasley)

It's Time to Go (Teddy x Victoire)

Cowboy Like Me (Astoria x Hermione)

Champagne Problems (Draco x Astoria, Part 2 of 6)

Era Three (Red/Lover)

The Moment I Knew (Ron x Hermione)

You Need to Calm Down  (Draco x Harry)

Sad Beautiful Tragic  (Draco x Astoria)

Nothing New (ft. Phoebe Bridgers) (Ron x Hermione)

All of the Girls You Loved Before (Sirius x Remus)

State of Grace (James x Lily)

Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince Draco x Astoria, Part 3 of 6)

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together (Harry x Tom Riddle) 

The Last Time (ft. Gary Lightbody) (Ron x Hermione)

All Too Well (Ron x Hermione)

The Archer  (Pandora Lovegood x Lily Evans)

Babe  (Ron x Hermione)

Run (ft. Ed Sheeran) (Narcissa x Lily)

Cornelia Street (Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood)

Everything Has Changed (ft. Ed Sheeran) (Sirius x Remus)

The Very First Night (Ron x Hermione)

Girl at Home (Alecto Carrow x Narcissa Black)

Forever Winter (Draco x Astoria)

Afterglow (Ron x Hermione)

Holy Ground (Romione)

Stay Stay Stay (Blaise Zabini x Daphne Greengrass)

False God (Bellatrix x Voldemort)

Era Four (Fearless/Reputation)

Come in With the Rain (Ginny & Hermione)

Look What You Made Me Do (Ron x Hermione)

That's When (ft. Keith Urban) (James x Lily)

Fifteen (James x Lily)

Tell Me Why (Harry x Charlie Weasley)

The Best Day (Percy x Oliver Wood)

Call It What You Want (Ron x Hermione)

You Belong With Me (Ron x Hermione)

Untouchable (Narcissa x Lily)

Change (Ron x Hermione)

Superstar (Draco x Hermione)

Forever and Always (Piano Version) (Draco x Astoria)

King of My Heart (Ron x Hermione)

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things (James x Lily)

Fearless (Ron x Hermione)

The Way I Loved You (James x Lily)

Gorgeous (Ron x Hermione)

Bye Bye Baby (Ron x Hermione)

White Horse  (James x Lily) 

…Ready for It? (Blaise Zabini x Daphne Greengrass)

Don’t You (Ron x Hermione)

I Did Something Bad (Draco x Astoria, Part 4 of 6)

The Other Side of the Door (Sirius x Remus)

Era Five (Speak Now/Folklore)

Haunted (Bellatrix x Lily)

Enchanted (Ron x Hermione)

Innocent (Draco & Narcissa Malfoy) 

Back to December (Ron x Hermione)

The 1 (Ron x Hermione)

Exile (ft Bon Iver) (Ron x Hermione)

Mad Woman (Draco x Harry)

Invisible String (Sirius x Remus)

Cardigan (Ron x Hermione)

Epiphany (Padma Patil x Theodore Nott)

Mirrorball (Draco x Harry)

Mine (Harry/Fred/George)

Mean (Ron x Hermione)

This Is Me Trying (Marcus Flint x Percy Weasley)

Timeless (Ron x Hermione)

My Tears Ricochet (Ron x Hermione)

Seven (Sirius x Remus)

I Can See You (Sirius x Remus)

Foolish One (Angelina Johnson x George Weasley)

#cruel summer fic fest #cruel summer fic fest 2023 #cruel summer fic fest: the eras tour #cruel summer fic fest 2023: the eras tour #harry potter fic fest #taylor swift fic fest #taylor swift x hp #harry potter fic masterlist #authors we're so proud of you #you went above and beyond #and we're just. grinning. #(also if we omitted your work in here—let us know! we tried to comb through everything but there's always the chance we missed something!) #microfics + mods' pieces will be included in a reblog because #if y'all would believe it #you gave us so many stories that tumblr decided to quit on our og post #so...more incoming #xoxo your mods

[greyeyedmonster-18]

never would forget how we moved

sirius x kingsley (starking)

(my submission for @cruelsummer-ficfest, my song was Starlight from the album Red. this song is truly one of my favorites. there's so much lightness and love after an album that is essentially a break-up album. this song to me is about hope for something that can be good in a sea of bla. please enjoy)

He felt seventeen again, the way his heart lept out of his chest, and the electricity surged through his veins as he stared across the garden at a man who commanded so much attention it might as well have been his occasion.

Kingsley wasn't one for ministry gatherings--at least the ones in London, preferring the ones from back home where the music went until the middle of the morning and everyone's smile seemed genuine. The ones here felt so formal. Stifling. Except for the man with the dark curly hair, and a loud laugh, who didn't seem to care about any formalities in the slightest. Kingsley took a sip out of his wine glass--even the wine was bitter--and watch as the man continued to tell a story, women, men, everyone eager to listen in and join in on the joke.

For all Kingsley knew, this man could've been speaking about the economy, inflation of galleons, and market-values, etcetera etcetera and everyone would've been enamoured. It was hard not to be. Kingsley was across the room and was still knocked out by a devil-may-care grin.

There was music playing, the kind that Kingsley listened to while studying all those years ago; "brain music" was said to be stimulating without overpowering to ensure maximum retention or something or the other, thoughts of his study skills falling sideways the closer he got to the man on the other side of the room with tiny gold hoop earrings and tattoos visible down the side of his neck. The people around him didn't even seem to know what they were laughing at anymore, keen to just be in the presence of this man.

I met Bobby on the boardwalk summer of '45...

"Excuse my interruption, I was sitting over there and heard the laughter and had to find out just what I was missing," Kingsley said, extending his hand, "Kingsley Shacklebolt. I don't think we've met."

"Now what makes you say that?" the other man asked, corners of his mouth tilting upward with amusement and silver eyes glimmered in the stars and fairylights above the garden. The crowd that had gathered around him began to disperse--Kingsley had just enough authority to be intimidating, and was just new enough to make everyone uncomfortable.

"I've never met a comedian."

"Ah now, don't tell," he responded, "that's my nighttime gig. By day, I'l just a simple member of the Wizengamot and a junior counselor."

Kingsley tried to keep his face neutral, hiding his surprise at the word junior counselor. Judging by the 5'oclock shadow and the confidence, Kingsley had pegged this man to be in his 30s at the bare minimum. And if that was the case, 30 was a bit...old.

"I see."

The other man let out a single, loud laugh, "Finally an honest reaction. Sirius Black," he dropped Kingsley's hand just as a silver platter of champagne glasses floated by, grabbing two off it with ease. He extended one of them to Kingsley, fingers covered with ornate rings that would've looked atrocious on...anyone else.

"I've heard about you," Kingsley nodded, accepting the glass, "you're giving my colleagues grey hair. I thought you'd be..."

"Better looking? I get that alot."

"Further along...legally," Kingsley cleared his throat around a sip of champagne and Sirius grinned.

"Had a bit of a quarter-life crisis and decided to step into the family business a few years later than most, reclaim my seat, so on and so forth. It's a great story," Sirius said, nodding a long with a wink.

"I'd like to hear it."

"Over dinner, maybe. Too long for drinks."

"Suppose..." Kingsley looked around, the stiff music swelling around them in a glorious crescendo, "Too long for drinks and a dance?"

For the first time since entering the conversation, Sirius looked surprised, eyebrows raising as he surveyed the scene. Telling a joke or two or three...or perhaps just being impossibly charming was one thing; dancing was a whole other.

"This isn't exactly Earth, Wind and Fire."

"All the more reason, I'll be able to hear your story better," Kingsley said with his own playful grin, stepping back toward the dance floor, champagne in hand, his other outstretched to Sirius. "I personally, love, this song. Catchy, isn't it?"

And I said, oh my, what a marvelous tune,

it was the best night never would forget how we moved.

Sirius clapped loudly, standing up at his table and cheering as Kinglsey wrapped up his speech, stepping down from the stage at the center of the room. A band was setting up behind him, the garden magically shifting from a boring ministry event to a party at the conclusion of his speech. Multi-colored fairy lights appeared in the bushes and air, reflecting on the grass. A constellation of rainbow stars everywhere they stepped. By the time Kingsley got to Sirius, he was smiling, two whiskey gingers in hand. The days of champagne and monotonous garden parties had disappeared when Kingsley became Minister of Magic, vowing in the privacy of their home that he would make the culture and climate bearable.

Telling Sirius that good thinkers, good people were too often run out of politics because of the environment and wanting to change it from the ground up.

Don't you see the starlight? Don't you dream impossible things?

"Great speech, very official," Sirius told him, kissing Kingsley quickly on the mouth once he was close enough. "I'm feeling so motivated, I want to ditch this whole thing and go straight to the Ministry to get to work."

Kingsley rolled his eyes, "That's a bit much, don't you think?"

Sirius grinned, dropping his voice and leaning close to Kinglsey's ear "You're right. However, I would ditch this whole thing and go straight to the ministry but only because your office would be completely free of interruptions..."

"Hmm..."

"Or we can get the dance floor started."

"Why not both?"

"At the same time? Minister," Sirius gasped, pressing a hand to his chest, and Kingsley laughed, leaning forward to capture his mouth in a kiss longer than the one Sirius had given him.

Their first dance had been at a party, a ministry party, right when Kingsley had transferred from Nigeria. Their second had been in the halls of Number 12 Grimmauld Place not long after, a record player in the living room playing Nina Simone.

They had lost track of dances they had shared over the years but always remembered to connect at Ministry parties. Always remembered to turn the unremarkable into a spectacle--together.

The whole place was dressed to the nines, and we were dancin'

Like we're made of starlight.

#starking #sirius black #kingsley shacklebolt #cruel summer fic fest #era number three #oh look! i did it for my own fest! #please enjoy all my starking fans #this ones for you #and for me

[cheesyficwriter]

Gorgeous

Hi, Romione lovers! I wrote this short ficlet for the @cruelsummer-ficfest! I was given the song "Gorgeous" by Taylor Swift to use as inspo for my favorite HP couple. While the theme of the story doesn't exactly follow the song, some of the lyrics are represented through characters/lines in the fic. Also, fully expect some Ron thirst from Hermione's POV.

Thank you to the mods for hosting such a fun and creative fest. Go check out the other awesome stories already released. Hope you enjoy! ❤

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

But what can I say?

You're gorgeous

Gorgeous - Taylor Swift

It’s a warm, cozy early autumn evening, perfect for a small and intimate affair. Guests mingle amidst the garden, surrounded by floating candles and flower motifs. Every single witch and wizard is out of their designated seat, cheering and dancing between bursts of high energy songs as glasses of Firewhiskey and champagne are passed around in merriment.  

Harry and Ginny’s wedding reception is a fabulously good time.

The newlywed couple glides around the open space with the biggest spotlight following them. Hermione glances over at Ginny, who is absolutely glowing and conveying an admirable amount of confidence and beauty as she nestles into the crook of Harry’s arm. Given all that Harry has gone through, the simplicity and privacy given to them in this moment is what he truly deserves. 

Witnessing their bliss brings an ache to the forefront of Hermione’s chest. The music transitions to a slow tempo, and her thoughts drift to one particular Weasley with ginger hair and ocean blue eyes.  

Ron, her best friend and boyfriend of almost five years, and the person who she couldn’t have planned Harry and Ginny’s reception without driving herself mental. She lost him somewhere in the small crowd earlier, and hasn’t seen him since the food table. Figures. 

Deep inside, she’s more than comfortable with the life they have together. So blissfully happy—almost to the point of delirium—that it’s very audacious of her to crave more. That’s not to say their goals have always aligned. If anything, their relationship has been on a twisted trajectory ever since they met. 

But it still poses the question. Does Ron ever picture what’s next for them? Now that Harry and Ginny are married, all eyes will likely be on Ron and Hermione, looking for the next commitment. It’s a thought she’s certainly had before, but one that never took up much space in her brain until this evening. 

Why is she so motivated now? It certainly can’t be jealousy. She’s very happy for Harry and Ginny, thrilled even. But it’s not a race to the altar. It never has been. As hard as she’s tried to find a suitable justification for making this commitment, all she can work out is that there is no justification not to. 

Is he waiting on her signal? She’s progressive enough to have no qualms being the one to propose to him, but she has a feeling that Ron would take pride in having that task himself.

A cluster of flobberworms flutter through Hermione’s stomach. Does she imagine growing old with him? Absolutely. She can’t imagine not having him in her life. The sheer thought of them breaking up—a hard lump works its way down her throat. She doesn’t want to ever think about that. 

There is no other choice for her. There is no other person.

She almost considers gazing into the depths of one of Trelawney’s barmy crystal balls to see what the future holds for them. Ha! Almost.

A part of her is compelled to stumble on home and curl up into a ball next to Crookshanks as she continues to contemplate her life. Instead, she snags her third floating glass of champagne from the air and downs it in two gulps. 

When Hermione cranes upright again after draining the contents of her glass, she finds herself gazing straight into the depths of Ron’s baby blues. Her heart pulses twice as fast, realizing that he has been watching her from afar, and all at once self-conscious over not knowing how long she has held his attention. He tilts his head, his eyes raking up and down her body, as if he’s appreciating her more than a homemade cauldron cake. 

Ron’s confident, unwavering presence is a far cry from the shy, awkward boy she knew at age 11. Their unabashed intimacy into adulthood is still new to her. It certainly wasn’t instantaneous infatuation when they first met—more like instantaneous annoyance, a feeling that lasted for several weeks before they got a chance to truly get to know each other and she went on to consider Ron one of her dearest friends. She hasn’t always liked that infuriating man at all times, but she’s always loved him, even if she didn’t know it in her early years. 

But is that enough to say they are ready now? Is there anything else they want to accomplish before settling down?

Hermione chuckles to herself. They’ve won a war, for Merlin’s sake. They’re both very satisfied with their career paths. They’ve had an extraordinary run as individuals before having a real chance at being a couple. And that right there is the information she needs to be secure in what she wants. 

She wants to marry Ron Weasley.

As if hearing her sing his name in her thoughts, Ron breezes through the crowd in Hermione’s direction. A distinct smirk forms upon his lips, the soft candlelight illuminating the freckles on his face. Hermione analyzes his every movement, enjoying the way his rolled up dress sleeves reveal the taut muscles along his forearms. Her hunger for him is so intense, it knocks the air straight out of her lungs. She inhales a shaky breath, making a feeble attempt to alleviate her roaring sex drive. 

Good luck with that.

Too late. The lust she has for her boyfriend overpowers any rational thinking right now. Her brain is not doing well in this particular situation.

Ron approaches, looping one of his thumbs through the belt of his trousers before offering the palm of his other hand. “Come and dance with me?” 

Hermione grins. At least he managed to form some semblance of a question this time, instead of blurting out a demand in a hilarious effort to drag her away from Viktor Krum. 

“I thought you would never ask.”

He frowns, a blush reddening his cheeks. “Really? I—”

“Relax, Ron,” she laughs, biting down on her lip as she turns her gaze down to the gold ballet flats on her feet. “I would love to.”

A rhythm of classical music flutters in the background as Ron takes her hand, leading Hermione over to the center of the crowd. Her olive green dress swishes against the ground as she walks. The air around them is warmer now, despite the cool evening. Although the many glasses of champagne pulsating through her veins may be contributing to her flushed cheeks. 

Ron’s arms draw her close until their chest to chest, his breath warm against her neck. She falls into his embrace with trained ease, resting her head on his shoulder. They sway back and forth during the first few minutes of the ballad, filling the space with easy smiles and gentle touches. 

It’s still amazing to Hermione that they’ve even made it this far, here, to this very moment where she feels comfortable enough showing affection for someone else, and receiving the same amount in return. The last time she danced with Ron like this—well, it was a perfect moment until their world spun into darkness and the Horcrux Hunt began. 

Now it’s all over—it’s been five years, to be exact—and there’s a calmness, a sense of security, hanging in the air. 

She lifts her head in amusement as Charlie Weasley swings by, guiding a giddy Professor McGonagall—a sight she thought she’d never see—around the dance floor. The tempo of the next song picks up, but not enough for swaying to be considered unusual, so she and Ron remain steady at their pace. 

Ron’s hands glide slowly up and down her spine, eliciting tiny goose pimples along the expanse of his touch. He’s remained silent throughout, they both have, but as his fingers slide to trace the scar on the inside of her arm, Hermione wonders what he’s possibly thinking at this moment. 

“Tell me what’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours.” Ron’s husky murmur, right next to her ear, catches her off guard. He knows her so well, and she shouldn’t be surprised that he notices her deep in thought. 

For a beat, she says nothing. They continue to rock side to side, cheek to cheek, as Hermione mulls over the voices in her head screaming at her that it’s time. She can’t put off asking about their future just because she’s afraid of not having the answer she wants. Even if she specializes in making critical decisions based on raw fear.

Hermione pulls back slightly to meet Ron’s gaze, noticing his eyebrows knitted together in fierce contemplation. His long locks of ginger hair fall into his eyes, and she fights the desire to sweep them away, only mildly annoyed that Ron had ignored her request for him to cut his hair prior to the wedding.

“What do you mean?” she finally works up the courage to ask. 

Ron scans her face as if he’s waiting for the glimmer of truth to shine through her eyes. “I know you’re happy for Harry and Ginny. I know you are pleased with how all of this came together with such little time to plan.”

It may seem like Ron is only stating the obvious, but it’s clear that he’s trying to rule out possible conclusions. 

“That’s Harry and Ginny,” she agrees. “Always spontaneous, those two.”

He squeezes her elbow. “But…”

“But what?”

“There’s something else.”

What is she afraid of? Judgment or ridicule? She knows Ron better than that. He would never make her feel embarrassed over sharing her feelings. He may not always understand them right away, but to be fair, neither does she. 

She needs to be completely honest with herself here. She needs to be completely honest with him. 

“We should talk.”

Any hint of a smile on his face flashes away faster than a lightning bolt. His mouth opens, poised to respond, but she places a hand on his chest. 

“No, no. It’s nothing bad, I promise. At least, I hope it’s not.”

No. Stop it, Hermione. She’s in a good place with Ron. A really, really good place. Why would she want to ruin that? All of the bells ringing in her head warn her to keep quiet. 

His hand tightens in hers. They continue to sway, oblivious to the other couples nearby, but Ron’s movement stiffens. “Hermione, what’s going on?”

It’s time for a serious discussion, but is this really the right place? Judging by the defined crease between Ron’s lips, he’s decided that it is and she can’t convince him otherwise. 

Before Hermione can speak, a tug on her dress redirects her attention towards the ground. Victoire, Bill and Fleur’s young daughter, beams up at her. The small girl fiddles with the ends of her long, blonde hair, pulled back into a seamless plait. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Victoire says through a toothy grin, highlighting the adorable dimples on her cheeks.

Hermione’s heart pitter patters in her chest. Not just pretty. Gorgeous. 

“Aren’t you a clever one?” Ron bends over, giving the part-Veela’s hair a tousle. 

“Uncle Ron!” Victoire squeals, swatting his hand away. Turning back to Hermione, she offers one last parting wave before skipping off, calling over her shoulder, “Bye, Aunt ‘Mione!”

Hermione’s knees buckle, very aware that Ron’s grip on her is the only reason why she remains standing. 

Aunt. She called me her Aunt. 

For a young girl, it’s not surprising. When Victoire sees her Uncle Ron, Hermione is usually in tow. It’s only natural that she draws that conclusion. But still, it doesn’t stop Hermione’s heart from skipping a beat. 

“She’s right, you know,” Ron murmurs, and Hermione’s head snaps to meet his gaze. The way he is looking at her, his eyes twinkling…she swallows hard, diverting her eyes to her shoes once more. 

She’s right. She’s right. She’s right. 

“Hey.” Ron hooks a gentle thumb under Hermione’s chin, lifting her head back up to eye level. “What are you getting insecure about?”

“I’m not.”

He raises a questionable eyebrow at that blatant lie, and Hermione’s shoulders sag in defeat. “I just—I don’t know. Maybe it’s the atmosphere. Being here, at a wedding, seeing Harry and Ginny so happy, and—Ron, it’s okay if you want to wait, or maybe our relationship isn’t what you expected…”

She’s rambling now, and Ron is gaping at her like she’s morphed into a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but she can’t seem to convey what she really means in a single sentence. She wants to shout I’m ready for you to propose, you dolt. But the way he tilts his head, a smile curling up around the edge of his lips, makes her wonder if she even has to.

Ron leans closer, brushing his nose against Hermione’s before pulling back mere inches. She can taste cinnamon from the shots of Firewhiskey he’s undoubtedly consumed this evening, his breath hot on her face. 

“I would have thought it was obvious by now.” His voice drops low, as if he’s sharing a secret just for her. He grasps her hip, pulling her a fraction closer. “But in case it’s not, let me make myself very clear. I love you. I am very happy with where we are, but also, you are it for me, Hermione.”

The expression on his face is so tender and warm, she can’t believe that he’s looking at her like that. Everything he says points to you’re delusional, you barmy witch, and it’s suddenly sobering, despite her champagne-filled musings. 

“Oh.”

Ron chuckles. “You sound surprised.”

“It’s just,” Hermione bites her lip, shrugging a shy shoulder. “We’ve never really discussed it, and it occurred to me recently, well, maybe there’s a reason why. Maybe you weren’t sure—well, nevermind that now.”

“Are you joking?” Ron’s eyes bulge out. “I was trying not to pressure you.”

Hermione tucks a lock of delicate hair behind her ear. “Well, you don’t need to worry about that.”

The comment must please Ron, because his trademark lopsided smile turns into an all out grin. “Okay. Note taken.”

“Okay.”

And somehow he vanishes every single one of her fears in a matter of seconds, as if it is really that simple. Perhaps it is. They could have avoided a lot of frustration if they were open and honest with each other from the beginning. But still, they wouldn’t have had the chance to move apart and come back together, like they always do, over and over again. 

“So…” Hermione curls her fingers around Ron’s neck as she buries her face into his chest. “Are we doing this?”

“Hold on there.” He plants a kiss into her hair before resting his chip atop her head. “Trust me.”

A rush of excitement floods her bones, receiving Ron’s hint loud and clear. Of course she trusts him. It’s the foundation of any successful relationship, and beyond their minor hiccup during the Horcrux Hunt—that definitely does not need to be addressed ever again—she’s never once questioned Ron’s loyalties. Not to Harry, and certainly not to her. 

Ron spins Hermione around, pressing her back against his chest. His arms envelop her into a circle of warmth. She falls into his embrace, closing her eyes while releasing a content sigh. When his nose nuzzles her cheek, she swivels her head just enough to meet his lips, which feel impossibly soft against her own. His kiss is dizzying, all-consuming, and so Ron. 

“Oi!” Harry yells, bursting through the warm glow they’ve cast around themselves. He dips Ginny in his arms. “Stop trying to steal the spotlight at my wedding, yeah?”

Ron disregards his best friend completely, intertwining his fingers with Hermione’s as he gives her a twirl. She lets out a breathless giggle, amazed at how effortlessly her boyfriend spins her around. Full of surprises, isn’t he?

“Keep dancing with me, gorgeous?” 

“Always.”

#romione #Romione fanfic #Romione ficlet #Romione drabble #Ron x hermione #Ron weasley #Hermione granger #Ron Weasley x Hermione granger #wedding #minor Harry Potter x ginny weasley #cruel summer fic fest

[nena-96]

Change

Hp Cruel Summer Fic Fest

Song: Change

Paring: Romione

Era: Fearless

Summary: This is a few moments through the years in which Ron and Hermione realize that there are changes in their growing relationship together.

And it’s a sad picture, the final blow hits you

Somebody else gets what you wanted again and

You know it’s all the same, another time and place

December 25th, 1994

Ron bursts through the doors in frustration as he enters his dorm, all he can think about is the way Hermione looked tonight at the ball. Pacing back and forth as he racks his hands through his red locks. He stops only to kick his trunk before sitting down in front of it as his thoughts bring him back to the way she looked tonight. 

The moment when he saw her enter the room, Ron didn’t know how to feel. At first he was confused because of the way his heart started to beat madly within his chest at the sight of Hermione. The dress that she was wearing was… it was different. Yes, different, in all the years he knew her he never imagined how she’d look all dressed up. Her usual bushy hair, that she always fussed with while pushing it away from her face when they would study in the library, is now in perfect curly tendrils. Ron almost didn’t recognize her, that was until he looked closely at the way she  scanned the room a bit nervously. Almost as if she was seeking him? This thought made him pull the collar of his old dress robes as he tried to rub the heat away from his neck. 

Would she even want to talk to him after the way he jokingly asked her to the dance? It wasn’t that he didn’t know she was a girl. It's just that he could never imagine that she’d want to go to the ball, for Merlin's sake Hermione never wears makeup. She’d always say that it's too time consuming and that she’d rather use the time to study. 

Yet, there she was standing next to that Bulgarian git, VIktor Krum. After weeks of asking her who she was going to the ball with, the answer was clear as day. Of course she’d choose Vicky, but why did she have to fraternize with the enemy.

Because these things will change

Can you feel it now?

These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down

March 1, 1997

Hermione snuck her hand from underneath the invisibility cloak as she placed her palm onto Ron’s freckled cheek. It’s way past curfew, yet Hermione wouldn’t be anywhere else, even if she misses a bit of sleep. Then again, she wasn’t able to keep her eyes closed, her mind kept spinning with the image of losing Ron. 

Hermione looked around, making sure that Madam Pomfrey wasn't nearby. It’s quiet, except for Ron’s light snores, this soothes her nerves for a moment. As she  shrugs off the invisibility cloak and tosses it onto the floor. Hermione moves quietly as she pulls a chair and sits besides Ron without disturbing his sleep. As she sits down, Hermione brings her hand and places it over Ron’s freckled and scarred hand. He’s so cold and his pale skin lacks the color that he normally has. This brings another wave of tears to Hermione as she gives his hand a small squeeze as she tries to focus on the way the covers rise and fall against Ron’s chest. 

It feels strange being so close to him, yet it never felt more real. The past few months of not speaking to Ron was torturous, and seeing him tangled up with someone else felt like a herd of hippogriffs stomping all over her heart. From the moment she found out that Ron was poisoned, Hermione  made a vow to herself that no matter what happens she will do her best to knock down the walls she put up. It's horrible to think that Ron could’ve died and she was too busy being jealous that he chose another girl. Hermione will do anything to make amends with Ron and if seeing him happy with Lavender then she’ll have to keep her feelings at bay. Even if the thought kills her, hopefully things will change and maybe one day the pain in her heart will heal. Until then, she’ll do her best to get her bestfriend back, nobody will come between that again.

So we've been outnumbered

Raided and now cornered

It's hard to fight when the fight ain't fair

August 1, 1997 

Spells were flying everywhere, what once was a beautiful wedding reception is now a battlefield of good versus evil. The ministry has fallen and the war has officially begun in the wizarding war. It wasn’t fair that instead of everyone celebrating Bill and Fluer’s wedding, the guests are either fighting against Death Eaters or trying their best to escape as everything around them comes 

Hermione clutches the beaded bag close to her as she shoves past a group of frantic women trying to dodge blue and green spells.

Looking towards the refreshments table in hopes that Ron is there, but he wasn’t there, and neither were the drinks. The table was flipped over and the drinks were spilled all over the ground. Where is he? Hermione wondered as she turned in search for a glimpse of red hair. The beautiful soft red hair that she managed to tangle her fingers through when they danced together. Before everything went to complete shit.

scene

" Ron' Hermione cried. 'Ron where are you?' The beating of her heart is threatening to burst out of her chest. Where is he? There’s no way she’ll leave without Ron, that’s not possible, that’s not even a choice. 

“Ron! Ron!' She called, half sobbing as she was buffered by terrified guest. It’s all her fault, if she hadn’t told Ron that she was tired from their dancing then he wouldn’t have gone to get butterbeer for them. Ron would be standing next to her, holding her small hand in his big freckled hand. Her heart wouldn’t beat in agony like it was right now. She wouldn’t-

“And then Ron was there.”  Hermione stifles a sob of relief as she sees Ron’s blue eyes gazing into her brown eyes. An unspoken promise of talking later passed through them as they looked at one another. As they quickly grab onto Harry’s hand and disapparated from their spot.

You can walk away, say we don't need this

But there's something in your eyes

Says we can beat this

October 14th or 21st, during the Horcrux Hunt

The rain was coming down fast, within seconds of running outside of the tent, Hermione became completely drenched. Yet, it didn’t matter to her at all. “Ron, wait… please,” Hermione cried out as she tried to catch up to him. Slipping on the muddy ground beneath her, as she calls to him again. “Ron, come back! I need you, please”, Hermione cried out in despair as she saw him stop a few feet away from her. She watches as he brings his hands to his face and lets out a scream. He clenched his fists as he stood by the edge of the invisible wards.

Ron slowly turns around and sees Hermione getting up from the ground, her jeans soaked in mud.  “I can’t do this…. I’m sorry”, Ron choked out as tears fell down his face. “We promised each other we’d fight together with Harry, please Ron don’t go”, Hermione said as she tried to walk closer to him. “I need you”, she says, hopeful that her words can break through the anger that's clouding his mind. 

Shaking his head, Ron glared at the ground beneath him as he tried to fight the lingering anger that the locket had left in his mind. It’s never been him and Hermione. He was a fool to even entertain that foolish thought, why would she want him when she can have the-boy-who-lived.

“Please, Ron… look at me we can beat this both of us together, with Harry. That's the plan, remember?’ Hermione said as she walked closer to him in hopes to reel him back to her. As the rain continues to soak them to the bone, she tries to reach for him but he jumps back almost as if he doesn't want to be near her.

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Ron squeezed his wand in a deathgrip, he wanted to believe that she wanted him to stay. Yet, it's proving to be difficult, she made her choice in the tent. Rubbing the tears from his eyes Ron looks up and sees the pan in Hermione’s brown eyes, “I’m sorry, so sorry Hermione Hopefully one day you’ll forgive me”, he chokes out as he walks closer to the wards. Her tear soaked face was the last image he saw before he waved his wand and disapparated from the spot.

“Ron! Ron!” Hermione cried as she fell to her knees, not caring that her jeans were being soaked in the mud as she watched the spot where Ron was once standing. 

Because these things will change

Can you feel it now?

These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down

It's a revolution, the time will come

For us to finally win

Shell Cottage

Ron licked his chapped lips as he brought the spoon to his lips and blew on the soup before giving it to Hermione. She tries not to whimper when the warm liquid touches her tongue. “Careful, would you like for me to bring you something cold instead?’, Ron asked with worry as she swallowed the warm broth. Closing her eyes briefly before responding,  “No, i-it’s fine, thank you”. He nods his head and prepares to give her another spoonful of chicken broth, but stops when Hermione shakes her head. “I don’t want anymore….. I just need”, Hermione whispers to him. “What do you need?”, Ron says as he places the bowl of soup on the bedside dresser as he leans closer to the bushy-haired witch. “I-I just need you”, Hermione winces in pain as she moves on the bed, leaving a space beside her for him.

 “Are you sure you need to recover”.

“I’ll r-recover better with you by my side, please”.

“Alright, just tell me if you need me to bugger off and I will.”

“I w-won’t, I promise. Get on the bed.”

“Always so bossy”

As Ron gets on the bed carefully, Hermione surprises him by bringing him closer to her and making him wrap her arms around her tiny waist. “I’m not going to break, please just hold me”, Hermione whispered as she tried to focus on the beating of Ron’s heart against her. 

Tonight we'll stand, get off our knees

Fight for what we've worked for all these years

And the battle was long, it's the fight of our lives

But we'll stand up champions tonight

May 2, 1998

The battle was waging on all around them, yet the kiss that he shared with Hermione was the only thing pushing him to continue. She was the only reason that he didn’t go after the Death Eaters after what they did to Fred. Ron will do anything and everything to make it out alive from this battle. After all these years of pining for a girl he finally realizes that they share the same feelings for each other. He’ll be damned if he doesn't make it, because the moment when Hermione’s lips were on his, he knew that the war was already won. 

That tonight the war will end. 

It was the night things changed

Can you see it now?

Can you see it now?

#romione #ron x hermione #cruel summer fic fest #missing moments #ronmione #hp fanfic #ron weasley #hermione granger x ron weasley

[darling-i-fancy-you]

Don’t You - Ron/Hermione

My second entry to the @cruelsummer-ficfest is now finished and uploaded!

Having so much fun with this event!

To read my latest fic please follow this link - AO3

Snippet:

I can’t do it Ron, I’m sorry. I’m staying here with my parents.

He still had the letter in a box under his bed at the Burrow, the words along the creases had faded into nothing from the countless days he had spent unfolding it and re-folding it, trying to understand how she just wasn’t coming back. 

(Alternate Account is toit-nups)

#Romione #cruel summer fic fest #Harry Potter #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

I've finally been able to get this little Perciver ficlet posted up after 3 days of struggling with AO3, the internet not cooperating, and general RL chaos. But it's done! This gem was inspired by @cruelsummer-ficfest's Taylor Swift song prompt "The Best Day" from Fearless. Also combined with @hp-flowers 2023 Spring Round Prompt Card #1 prompts (sweet pea, tulip, fern and jasmine for a magical wedding display) and @wood-you-rather-challenge's 2023 prompts "gold" and "I'm a Keeper."

Title: Navy and Gold (<- on AO3) Rating: General WC: 900 Tags: Inspired by Taylor Swift, Song: The Best Day (Taylor Swift), Weddings, Marriage, Mother-Son Relationship, Flowers, Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Family Feels, Boys In Love, Self-Doubt, Nervousness Some Humor, Character Study, Percy Weasley-centric, POV Percy Weasley

Summary: It takes five seconds for Percy to realise a. he’s getting married and b. that’s happening right now. Oh Merlin. [Or: Where Percy gets a quick pep talk from his mother and realises how right she is about him and Oliver.]

I don't generally write sweet fluff or wedding fics, but Taylor's song made me get real creative with ideas (aka. it took a while to come up with something). Maybe it's because of summer weather, but wedding + parental support came mind when I first drafted this story. It has really been nice to write about my favourite boys again, I have to say! I don't think I've made anything for Perciver in at least 8+ months? I'll have to see what I can do to remedy that, because they deserve more and all the love. Anyway, even though this story is a little different from my usual, I hope you enjoy the wedding vibes, awesome parental figures and boys being in love. Cheers!

#cruel summer fic fest #perciver #percy weasley #oliver wood #woodyourather2023 #hpflowers2023 #hp fanfic #fic rec #ficlet #self rec #my fic #sugareey

[narcissasdaffodil]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/Lily Evans Potter Characters: Lily Evans Potter, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Alecto Carrow, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Inspired by Taylor Swift, Song: Untouchable (Taylor Swift), Minor Alecto Carrow/Severus Snape, Bisexual Lily Evans Potter, Bisexual Narcissa Black Malfoy, Alternate Universe - High School, high school party, Underage Drinking, Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Kiss, First Love, Drunken Kissing Summary:

Lily’s captivated by Narcissa. She can’t work out why, until she’s invited to a house party, and finds out Narcissa is her soulmate.

Written for the @cruelsummer-ficfest 2023! The prompt was Untouchable.

Tag list: @mikaharuka @tsunderewatermelon

#narlily #narcissa black #lily evans #harry potter #cruel summer fic fest

[voldemorts-tap-shoes]

Second submission for reputation/fearless era of @cruelsummer-ficfest 🖤💛

Gorgeous

Every time the door of the pub swings open, it lets a blast of raucous noise into the street that slows my steps. The Leaky Cauldron may as well have a Hermione-repelling charm cast over it, the way it’s making me feel as we get closer. The click-click-click of Lavender’s heels on the sidewalk as I follow her keeps time with my pounding heart until she finally calls over her shoulder, “C’mon, slowpoke. We’re already late.”

“Isn’t that a thing?” I grouse, though I pick up my pace to catch her. “Fashionably late?”

“Sure it is, but it’s not why you’re dragging those designer heels I forced on you.” Lavender stops and spins to face me, planting her hands on her hips as she fixes me with a raise of one perfect blonde eyebrow. I stare back at her, not wanting to admit out loud what we both already know perfectly well. “You’re nervous about seeing Ron.”

Well if she’s going to come right out and say it…

“Two years is a long time. What if he met someone?”

“At the Auror Academy? No, he’s definitely still single.”

“Honestly, that’s worse.”

Lavender scoffs and throws her hands up in the air. “How is that worse?”

“Because…then I don’t have any excuse not to tell him that I haven’t stopped thinking about him for two bloody years.”

“Well that’s honest,” Lav says with a laugh. “What are you worried about? Didn’t you guys have some sort of…I dunno, agreement, before he left?”

“You know we didn’t.” I sigh and glance over my shoulder, away from the pub where Harry and Ron’s welcome home party rages on. “Come on, you’re always trying to get me out to these Muggle clubs you like. We’re overdressed for the Leaky, anyway.”

“Stop it, you look gorgeous. And that’s an absolute waste of a dress if Ron doesn’t see you in it. Or out of it.”

“Lavender!”

“Besides, if you’re that worried about talking to him, you could always just march up to him and snog him. Worked for me.”

Lavender grins, and I give her my best death glare, though I know she’s only teasing me. We’re long-past the drama of sixth year. Still I retort, “You’re more evil than Voldemort sometimes.”

Her laugh rings off the cobblestones as she loops her arm through mine and starts us walking toward the pub again. “Come on, let’s get a drink in you. You’ll be fine.”

Fortunately, there are enough people coming and going from the pub that my entrance with Lavender doesn’t cause any particular ruckus. Harry spots us first and manages to make his way over without dislodging Ginny, who’s wrapped around him like a Devil’s Snare.

“Hey, Hermione, so glad you made it! It’s great to see you! Hi Lavender!” Harry’s exuberant greeting and flushed cheeks give away the fact that he’s had more than a couple of drinks, and I hug him back enthusiastically. He’s a happy drunk, at least.

“It’s great to see you, too. Welcome back!”

“Thanks! Last time I saw Ron, he was…” Harry gestures vaguely around the pub, and since we’re still standing by the front door, he could be just about anywhere.

“Thanks, I think we’re going to get a drink first.” Ginny quirks an eyebrow at me but doesn’t comment. “See you in a bit.”

I pull Lavender towards the bar, keeping my eyes peeled for Ron the whole time. He’s usually not hard to spot, head and shoulders above practically everyone, but we make it to a couple of barstools without seeing him and I let out a little sigh of relief. I take the shot of firewhiskey Lavender sets in front of me, the hot liquid crackling down my throat, and then reach for the soothingly cool butterbeer.

Just as I’ve finished one drink and motioned to Tom for another, Lavender chirps from beside me, “Oh, there’s Ron!”

Part of me wants to crawl under the bar and hide, but my body turns of its own accord to look where Lav is looking. He’s halfway across the room, chatting with Dean and completely oblivious to Lavender’s frantic wave or my slack-jawed stare.

He looks the same, sort of—same ocean-blue eyes, same slightly crooked smile—but also not the same at all. His lanky frame has filled out, arm muscles on full display beyond the sleeves of his black Cannons t-shirt. He looks like he may have somehow actually managed to get taller, too. There’s a neatly trimmed layer of ginger hair covering his face, and just a hint of a tattoo beneath one sleeve that keeps ducking out of sight as the magical image moves.

He’s so gorgeous it hurts. Actually hurts, down in the pit of my stomach where all of my insecurities about him not wanting me live and where they are now multiplying like someone cast a Geminio charm on my gut.

“Aren’t you going to go and talk to him?” Lavender asks, snapping me out of my stupor.

“I think I just saw Susan, so I’ll just—” I grab the fresh drink from the bar top and slide off the stool, heading in the opposite direction of Ron. I hear Lavender muttering something about Gryffindor courage as I take off in search of someone else—anyone else—to talk to.

She’s right, of course. The defining trait of our house has completely failed me at the prospect of facing Ron after all this time. Fighting Voldemort and dealing with all the myriad horrors of seven years in a magical castle feels like a walk in the park compared to this, and I’m completely chickening out.

I haven’t seen Ron in two whole years, and although we did have something of a denouement between the end of the war and him going off to the Academy, there was no commitment. We were both free to do as we pleased, romantically. For me that meant a whole lot of pining over him and nothing else, but Merlin only knows what he’s been up to while he was away. I know he did fancy me back then, but two years is a long time and surely he still can't feel the same way.

We’ve stayed in touch throughout his time away, and he hasn’t mentioned a girlfriend or anything, but the idea of us rekindling things when he got home also never came up. Not that I brought it up, either. But if I don’t bring it up, then there’s no possibility of rejection. Cowardly? Yes. Safe? Also yes.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Lavender huffs as she catches up to me in the dark corner I’ve tucked myself into. “Even if you’re not ready to tell him how you feel, the man is your best friend. You can’t hide from him all night.”

“I can try.”

“Then why did we come?”

“Good point, let’s go.” Lavender holds out an arm to stop me before I can take a single step past her, and I sigh. “Okay, fine. But I need to stop in the loo first.”

Lavender narrows her eyes at me. “You have five minutes before I come in after you.”

“That’s—I’ll just be a—”

I catch Lavender’s eye roll as I make another escape, sneaking around the back side of the bar to the witches’ room. There’s nobody else in there, so I lock the door and add a charm for good measure before I take a long look in the mirror and try to calm myself.

You can do this. It’s just Ron.

Just the love of my freaking life who may or may not have moved on.

There’s a knock on the door and I groan softly. “It has not been five minutes, Lav!”

“It’s me.” My heart stops at the sound of Ron’s voice. “Can I come in?”

I make my steps as slow as I can as I approach the door, but it’s not a big room so I can only stall so long. I take a deep breath and turn the lock back to its open position, then the door cracks open from the outside and Ron peeks in, his face so close to mine that I can smell the hint of firewhiskey on his breath. The smile he flashes me is infectious, even in the face of my nerves. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself. Everything okay in here?”

“Sure.” I swallow hard and give him a tense nod. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re hiding in the bathroom, and I swear you’ve talked to everyone here but me.”

“That’s not—” Ron raises an eyebrow at me and I can’t get the lie out.

“Did I do something?” he asks as his face scrunches with worry. “I mean, I know I haven’t been writing as much lately, but it’s been so hectic with final qualifications and everything and I—” Ron cuts himself off and smiles at me again. “I’m really happy to see you.”

“I’m really happy to see you, too.” That’s certainly true, even if my insides are wriggling like flobberworms.

“Okay, good. So…come back to the party?”

“Sure, I just…need a minute.”

I try to give Ron a reassuring smile, but he’s not convinced and pushes the door open further to join me in the bathroom, locking it behind him. My heart pounds as he looks me over, his eyes full of concern.

“Hermione, what is going on?”

It takes a few minutes to find my voice but I finally squeak out, “You’re back.”

“That’s a good thing.” He takes a step closer, and when I don’t respond, he adds, “I missed you.”

“Really?”

Ron laughs. “Are you kidding? I missed you like crazy. You’re my best friend.”

His best friend. Right. The knots in my stomach turn to lead, and I can’t bear to keep looking at him as I fix my eyes to the floor instead, praying I can keep the tears at bay until I get out of here. Unfortunately, Ron is currently between me and the only escape route.

“Well, I missed you too, but as way more than just my best friend, which is why I’ve been hiding so I wouldn’t have to tell you that I fancy you in case you don’t feel the same and you obviously don’t, so now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, I guess I’ll just stumble on home to Crookshanks.”

The words tumble out in a rush as I try to squeeze my way around Ron, but he catches my hand in his.

“You’re as mental as ever, you know that?” Ron rolls his eyes as an affectionate smile plays on his lips. He tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the tattoo I noticed earlier, and I feel my jaw drop as I watch the little silvery-blue otter scamper around his arm. “I will admit I was a little drunk when I got it, because I kind of thought I would tell you how I feel about you before I went and tattooed it on myself, but…” He lets the sleeve fall again and shrugs. “Reckon this’ll get the point across, anyway.”

“You got…” My hand finds its way to his arm of its own accord, drawn to him like a magnet, and I let my fingers follow the otter’s path. Ron’s skin pebbles up with goosebumps under my touch, even though it feels about a million degrees in here between the two of us, and I start to believe he might actually be as affected by me as I am him. “You have a tattoo of my patronus.”

“Yeah.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “Still just want to go home to Crookshanks?”

I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck, leaning forward on my toes, but even with the help of Lavender’s heels, Ron has to duck his head to brush his nose against mine. “Only if you come along.”

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron x hermione #cruel summer fic fest

[adenei]

Babe

Second Submission for Era 3 of @cruelsummer-ficfest

Ship: Romione

Song: Babe (Red)

Read on Ao3

How to make a break-up song about cheating into a fic that's not even remotely about that? Challenge accepted.

Big mistake, you broke the sweetest promise that you never should have made.

He couldn’t protect her. Couldn’t protect her. 

He promised. And yet there she was, lifeless in his arms as he ran across the sand toward the cottage, desperate to help her. Desperate to save her. 

She can’t be dead. Please don’t let her be dead. Please.

Ron watches in the doorway of the small guest bedroom as Fleur performs diagnostic spells over Hermione’s body. Tremors cause her limp form to shake uncontrollably every now and then. It’s the only sign that she’s alive. 

Fleur gives nothing away as she continues to work. Bill’s eyes only knit with growing concern. At one point, Ron is vaguely aware of Fleur leaning over and whispering something to Bill. But he doesn’t take his eyes off Hermione. Not for one second. Because he’s afraid that if he does, the small yet rhythmic rise and fall of her chest will cease, and then he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

Then, Bill is by his side, gesturing to the hall behind him. 

No. He can’t leave her. He won’t leave her. He begs his older brother to let him stay. Yet, somehow, he’s being ushered down the stairs to wait. 

I’m here on the kitchen floor, you call but I won’t hear it.

“Ron. Ron!” Bill calls to him as he cradles his head in his hands, rocking back and forth, unable to get the sound of her screams out of his mind.

This is why he needs to be with her. Only the sight of her will calm the chaos in his head; only her touch can prevent him from reliving the scene over and over and over again.

“Ron,” Bill says again, now crouching down in front of him. 

The third time his name sounds, he snaps to attention. “What’s wrong? Is Hermione okay? Bill, tell me she’s okay. I can’t lose her. I can’t—”

Bill’s hands on his shoulders stop him. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you she’s fine, but she’s alive. Fleur thinks you got her here just in time. She’s done everything she can to combat the pain and the internal injuries, but we won’t know if her mind is still intact until she wakes up.”

“Fuck.” Ron presses the heel of his palms against his eyes, forcing the unshed tears to stay put.

He knows what the Cruciatus is capable of. He remembers seeing Neville’s parents. Pure, unadulterated terror sweeps through him, paralyzing his limbs and his thoughts as the thought of life without her takes hold.

No, he can’t think like that.

“You can go see her now if you want. She’s resting.”

Ron nods, his body feels like jelly as he tries to stand.

“Maybe you should—”

“No.” He needs to be with her.

You really blew this. We ain’t gettin’ through this one.

Twenty four hours pass and Hermione still hasn’t woken. Ron remains at her bedside, leaving only when absolutely necessary. He holds her hand, rests his head against her arm and runs through countless scenarios of how things could have been different.

If only he’d tried harder to stop Harry from saying the name. What if Bellatrix had taken him instead? How could they have concealed the sword better? The questions never end.

He pays little attention to the people who come in and out, checking on Hermione, asking him how he’s doing, bringing him something to eat. 

Until Luna brings in another meal he’ll barely touch.

When she’s on her way out the door, she turns back and offers a suggestion. “Have you tried talking to her?” Ron looks up at her, eyes blank as he shakes his head.

“It might help.” With a smile and a shrug, Luna bounces out of the room on her tiptoes.

It takes Ron a while to try Luna’s idea. He doesn’t know where to begin as the words continuously play on repeat in his mind. Finally, he’s able to stop them for a moment, if only to verbalize an apology.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaks out. “I couldn’t stop her from hurting you. I couldn’t get out of that damn cellar. I tried, Hermione. Believe me, I tried.”

He looks down at his hands, still raw, but scabbing over from clawing and punching at the wall. Reminders of how desperate he was to try and break free.

[His] lips on your neck, I can’t unsee it.

“Th-thank Merlin for Dobby. I don’t know how the elf knew, but he saved us. He saved all of us. But I’m so scared I got to you too late. Fleur says you’ll be okay, but she didn’t see you lying there. She didn’t see Greyback’s eyes when he looked at you. Fuck, no, I can’t unsee it. I can’t stop thinking about what he was going to do to you. Please, Hermione, please be okay. I can’t do this without you.”

He leans over and kisses her hand before squeezing it with his own. 

“Please,” he whispers. “There’s so much more I want to say to you, but I want you to be awake. I need you to be awake.” 

Ron looks at her face, and still nothing, though he’s not surprised. He’s ready to give up and call Luna’s plan mental, but then he decides to try one more time. Part of him knows it’s no use, so he takes a chance to say something he’s nowhere near ready to say to her face. Not until he knows she feels the same way.

“I—I always used to think it was gross when Mum and Dad would call each other by these ridiculous pet names. It was even so weird when I’d hear Fleur call Bill ‘darling.’ Not—not because I was jealous or anything. I wasn’t! But now, now I get it. And I just—I want that for us. Like babe or something, you know? Not that it—it doesn’t have to be that, but…nevermind. It’s not like you can hear me anyway. What a stupid idea.”

As he rambles, he stares at her hand, embarrassed for even saying it all out loud. He should have silenced the room first. He’ll never hear the end of it if someone overheard as they walked by.

Slumping back in the chair, Ron covers his face with his hands. He refuses to believe he’s losing her, but at the same time he can’t help but feel as though she’s slipping through his fingers. But then he hears the softest moan come from her bed. His head snaps up as his hands grasp the arms of the wooden chair, catching his weight before he falls over from the whiplash.

Her eyes flutter open as she grimaces in pain. It’s a fucking miracle.

“R-Ron?” Her voice is hoarse and  breathy, but he’s sure he hears it.

“I’m here. I’m right here.” His hands find hers. “We made it. We’re safe.”

“Where are we?” Each word is labored but she pushes through it anyway.

“Shell Cottage. Bill and Fleur’s place.”

“How…?”

Ron recounts the entire tale and Hermione listens with rapt attention. When he gets to the end, he pauses. His mind is once again fresh with the shrieks and cackles of Bellatrix as Hermione screams in pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

What about your promises, promises, promises, no.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is! I—I made a promise.”

Hermione’s face scrunches in confusion. “To who?”

“To you. Well, to me. I swore I’d do whatever it took to protect you and—and I couldn’t. I couldn’t protect you from her and now you’re here.”

“Yes. I’m here. Ron, I should be dead. Worse, maybe because of Greyback.” She shakes her head. “But you saved me. You could have left me in the wreckage of that chandelier but you refused to leave without me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Stop. Please,” she begs. “I know you’re trying to make up for—for leaving. Don’t. We’re past that. You’re here now. That’s what matters. You’re what matters.”

His eyes meet hers and both plead the other to understand. Ron feels as though he’s about to burst. They’ve had so many second chances over the years and with the war at its height, he can’t risk silence any longer. 

“Hermione, I—”

Though it looks as though it takes all her energy, she lifts her hand to touch his face. Tears are in her eyes when she cuts him off. “I know. Me too.”

Ron turns his head, nuzzling into her hand and kisses her palm before he loses his nerve. If she won’t let him tell her how he feels, he can at least try to show her. Though he doesn’t want to leave her, he promised Bill and Fleur he’d tell them as soon as she woke up.

“I should get Fleur so she can see how you’re doing.” He stands reluctantly and heads for the door.

But Hermione stops him before he leaves. “Ron?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um, I don’t mind ‘babe.’” Her cheeks are bright red as she tries to hide a tiny smile by tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh. Uh, noted.”

He scrambles out the door as his own face burns and his ears have no doubt turned pink. He hadn’t realized—he thought she’d been asleep. She hadn’t shown any signs of stirring. But maybe it was better now that that was in the open. Maybe she truly does understand how he feels now.

And he hopes upon hope that the end is near, that they can finally be free and happy, and that this is one of the last times the war will risk their lives.

So they can be happy. So they can finally have the chance to call each other ‘babe.’

This is the last time, this is the last time.

a/n: I'm still not over using 'babe' as a pet name for these two.

#romione #ron x hermione #ron weasley x hermione granger #ron weasley #hermione granger #shell cottage #cruel summer fic fest #can I please have one more? LOL #I wanted Lover so bad to have one of each #only kidding!

[cruelsummer-ficfest]

august has officially sipped away like a bottle of wine and all submissions for this years Cruel Summer Fic Fest must be submitted by the end of the day (wherever you may be). If they are not submitted, you are more than welcome to finish it, however it will not be included in the collection for this summer.

we cannot thank you enough for all the works and participation this summer! it is truly our wildest dreams come true to see the intersection of taylor swift x harry potter come to life.

we will be posting an end of summer wrap up so youll be able to find all of the fics from this year in one place, but until then and until next (cruel) summer—

we had the time of our lives fighting dragons with you.

xoxo

Your mods,

andie! and grey

#cruel summer fic fest #xoxo grey and andie

[greyeyedmonster-18]

(my submission for @cruelsummer-ficfest that was completed in a timely manner, at a leisurely pace and not...pulled out of my ass as a microfic and is absolutely not hot garbage.

my song: teardrops on my guitar

my ship: prongsfoot)

--

Sirius opened the door to the dormitory, heart-rate slightly elevated from the stair climb and the sounds of the music carrying down the hall.

Melancholic. A woman crooning to guitars in a minor key.

Sirius put his hand on the doorknob, unsure of what shade of Remus he was going to be walking into, knowing the record player and some sad muggle girl were his go-to's for his bad days, and sad days, and most days that weren't unbelievably light.

"Hey Moon....y..."

Sirius walked in to see James lying on the floor, staring straight up at the ceiling, the record player spinning behind his head.

"Babe?" Sirius stepped closer, dropping his book bag on top of the trunk at the foot of his bed, and toeing off his shoes before lying on the floor next to James. "What's this song?" he asked, reaching a hand over to brush curls out of James's eyes, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Dunno, I asked Moony to put it on for me..."

"It's not The Beatles."

"No."

"Are you mad?"

"Aren't you?"

"No....? Should I be? I can be," Sirius offered. "Do you need me to be mad? Go punch someones teeth i--"

"No punching," James told him, grabbing Sirius's free hand and intertwining their fingers together, as if that would prevent any damage (and he wasn't wrong. Sirius's hands these days spent far less time punching and holding onto Wizard's Brew bottles in favor of holding James's hands in the hallways, or carrying books). "I...thought you were mad. I've..."

"Jamie...love."

James finally looked up at Sirius, "You said love ya."

"Wha...t?"

"You said love ya, this morning before you left to go Arithmancy. Not I love you."

Sirius couldn't help but let his jaw fall open, "...You're joking."

"I'm not. And then you sat with Lily during Potions, and I laughed at all your jokes and you didn't even notice?"

"I--"

"And then--don't laugh, hey!" James sat up, eyebrows furrowed, "I know you think feelings are stupid but these are mine you hurt today and I want to know why. That's not fair."

Sirius sat up, and faced James, crossing his legs so their knee caps were touching. He grabbed James's face in his hands tenderly and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. I didn't mean to hurt you. And I do love ya."

"...what about love me?"

"That too. Your feelings are the only ones I care about. Ca va, mon amour? I love you only from here on out. But I'm still going to sit next to Evans, who takes notes."

"Why would I take notes when yours are so pretty?"

"So you're not in here listening to--what the fuck is this."

"It's what it sounds like when there are teardrops on a guitar."

Sirius rolled his eyes, and James cracked a smile, kissing Sirius one more. "We can listen to it together."

"

#no editing no nothing we go out like a proper royal #prongsfoot #sirius black #james potter #cruel summer fic fest #see folks. this is what you do when you're not a fan of your prompt!! #can you tell???

[thomasbrodiesandwich]

i wrote for @cruelsummer-ficfest 2023's 3rd era Red/Lover!!

'Cause Shade Never Made Anybody Less Gay - littlelass - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Song: You Need To Calm Down

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Theodore Nott

Additional Tags: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Fluff, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Pining Draco Malfoy, this is just draco being thirsty for harry in 3k words tbh, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy is Obsessed with Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is So Whipped, POV Third Person Limited, POV Draco Malfoy, Auror Theodore Nott

Summary: Auror Draco Malfoy has a crush on fellow Auror Harry Potter who just so happens to be the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He does his best to stop pining for his ex-rival, but when Harry Potter's office cubicle is right in front of his, it's hard to ignore such a fine specimen of a man. Theodore Nott is done with Draco's shit and urges his friend to pull himself together and shoot his shot. So, Draco Malfoy will do what he does best to catch Harry Potter's attention: send hate notes.

#cruel summer fic fest #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco malfoy/harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter/draco malfoy

[xxdustnight88]

Tied Together

Rated: Teen & Up Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger Word Count: 958 Summary: Draco helps Hermione see that it's okay to not be so perfect all the time. Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49163491

Written for the @cruelsummer-ficfest

#Cruel Summer Fic Fest #Dramione #Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger #Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger

[nena-96]

Bejeweled

submission for @cruelsummer-ficfest 2023. Debut/Midnights

Song: Bejeweled. Ship: Romione. 

Hello, I'm happy to have joined this years Cruel Summer ( Taylor's Version): HP Fic Fest! I will hopefully write a few entries and I hope you enjoy them. Feel free to let me know what you think and be sure to be kind. You can read this fic below or over on A03

Summary:  Moments away from going down to celebrate at the Yule Ball

Twisting and turning in front of the dorm room mirror, Hermione gazed at the periwinkle blue dress she was wearing. It's almost time to head down to the ball, yet she is still holed up in her dorm. It had taken her hours of applying Sleekeazy’s potion into her hair to finally keep the pesky fly away curls from falling onto her face. It’s a good thing the ball is only for tonight, she can’t imagine wasting three hours doing her hair. She could definitely use that extra time to catch up on the readings for next week's transfiguration lessons.

“Hermione, I’m going to head down with Neville, I’ll see you later”, Ginny shouted through the door, snapping Hermione from her thoughts. Oh, Merlin, she completely forgot that Ginny was waiting for her, “alright, I’ll see you soon, just finishing up”, Hermione replied. She didn’t bother to wait and hear a response as she stared at her reflection once more.

“You can do it, it's just a dance…. you’re a Gryffindor'', Hermione said to her reflection as she toyed with the necklace her mum sent her. It's definitely not something she is used to wearing. Then again she never wears anything so bejeweled with diamonds and rhinestones.

Shaking her head as her fingers trace the delicate diamonds, feeling the smoothness against her fingertips. Why did her mum have to send her this necklace or the dress, it wasn’t like he was her date for the Yule ball. She scoffed at the ludicrous thought of Ron even paying a spec of attention to her, instead he’ll be focused on Padma.

Seems like Ron didn’t have a hard time finding a date after all. He must have been happy that he didn’t end up with a troll for tonight, she rolled her eyes at this. It didn’t matter that Ron managed to walk all over her peace of mind, he made his choice clear. Tonight it's all about having fun, even if the person she’s going with isn’t the one she wants to be with.

Hermione clasps the necklace around her neck and watches as the diamonds shimmer from the light that bounces from the mirror. Giving one last look to herself, Hermione turns to leave the room, it's time to show them how nice she can polish up. Tonight, everyone will see the “fun” side of Hermione Jean Granger. More importantly, she is going to show Ron just how much of a girl she is.

No matter what happens tonight she will do her best to enjoy her night, and hopefully not think about Ron more than he thinks of her. It's not like he stops to think about her as more than a friend, that's just ridiculous. Shaking her head from those pesky thoughts, Hermione walks down the staircase, all while hoping she doesn’t trip with the heels she’s wearing. Another one of mum’s gifts that was sent to her. After a while of cautiously walking down the stairs, Hermione smiles to herself as she thinks of the time she’ll have at the ball. Even if Ron isn’t her date, she still wants to have a good time.

Maybe if she’s lucky they’ll sort out their differences, and maybe they can share a dance together. As friends of course, since she has a date and so does he, but just maybe things could be different when Ron sees her walk into the room. If only he could try to change her mind tonight, prove to her that she was never a last resort. That she was and will always be his first choice, but that’s probably too good to be true. Ron had his chance, and he didn’t take it.

Now it's time to shine.

#cruel summer fic fest #romione #ron x hermione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #song: Bejeweled