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earlgreydream · 3 years

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butterbeer.

| draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader | fluff |

a/n: requested by my dearest hufflepuff, @fitzfiles i’m so soft for draco

You sat curled up in the Hufflepuff common room, your thick herbology book resting on your lap. Cedric was beside you on the couch in his golden quidditch sweater, smiling kindly at you.

“Do you see? In order to care for the mandrakes, you must bury them in the soil like this,” you showed Cedric your notes. Every Friday afternoon was spent tutoring Cedric in herbology after your shared class.

“Yes. You’re much better than Sprout at explaining it. You should become the new herbology professor when the bloke finally retires.” Cedric grinned at you.

“I like Professor Sprout! That would be fun though!” You giggled.

“Oi, Y/N! Your boyfriend is griping to be let in here,” One of the Hufflepuff girls called to you as she entered the common room. You smiled at her apologetically, squeezing Cedric’s shoulder as you stood. You walked to the painting, letting it swing open to reveal Draco Malfoy.

“Hi,” you smiled at him, and he gazed at you softly with a loving smile. His usual arrogance and sharpness was gone from his expression as he looked at you with utter adoration.

“Hi, darling,” he stepped into the common room, kissing your forehead lightly.

“Cedric.” He nodded, greeting your best friend. Draco had been a bit prickly toward him when the two of you first began dating, but he warmed up when he realized that Cedric wasn’t a threat.

“We’re not quite finished. Do you mind?”

“I’ll wait. You can’t go in this anyways.” he said, nodding to your school uniform you hadn’t changed out of.

“I know, darling. It’s warm in here and I haven’t had the chance to change.”

You walked back over to the couch, and he sat on the floor on a golden cushion, his head resting against your thigh. You lightly ran your fingertips through his snowy white locks as you leaned over your herbology book, helping Cedric identify the differences between the plants for your O.W.L.S.

The other Hufflepuffs no longer stared at Draco, now used to having him in their common room. Draco was often hanging around, enjoying the warmth and coziness, and the way he was welcomed. He found that he much preferred it to the chilly, marble elegance of the Slytherin commons.

One of the second-year girls walked over, setting down a plate of pumpkin pastries.

“Y/N, Draco, Cedric, have some,” She said sweetly, smiling at the three of you and sitting down across from the Slytherin prince.

“Draco, would you maybe look at my potions paper? I swear Professor Snape hates me, and I’m nervous.” She asked shyly, and Draco sat up.

“Of course, let me see.” He took the paper from her hand, and she moved to sit beside him. You smiled down at your boyfriend, and the kind way he spoke to her.

“This is great, but you should add here that polyjuice potion takes a long time to make...” He fell into soft chatter with her, showing her where her paper could be stronger. Draco was gentle, careful to praise the younger student on what she did well. It warmed your heart, and you turned back to finish with Cedric.

“This is perfect. I’ll put in a good word for you too, with Snape. Please, I’m always happy to help you or tutor you if you need it, alright?” he asked her as she stood.

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Of course.”

“I love it when you’re sweet.” You said, leaning down over Draco and kissing the tip of his nose. He stood, helping you to your feet and taking your heavy textbook for you.

“I’m still mean!” He teasingly defended himself and you shook your head at him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pansy that you’re secretly nice,” you teased back and he followed you to your dorm.

He set your textbook down on your desk, mindlessly folding the various clothing you had tossed over the back of your chair or top of the trunk at the end of your bed. He was extremely neat, always folding your clothes or putting things back in their places whenever he visited your dorm.

“Y/N, is this my quidditch sweater I’ve been looking for?” He asked as you pulled a yellow Hufflepuff jumper over your head, letting it fall over your black skinny jeans.

“Um, no, it belongs to my other boyfriend who plays on the Slytherin quidditch team,” you answered with a straight face.

“You’re dating Theo behind my back?” Draco asked, humor laced in his voice.

“No, sorry, the other one,” you bit back a giggle as he reached for you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m yours, Draco!” You squealed, trying to escape as your laughter interrupted your breathing.

“That’s right. You’re mine,” his voice dropped a few octaves, making you shudder with a small smile on your face.

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You can have it back.”

“Oh, I can have it back?” he smirked, pulling. you into a kiss.

“But I want another one in return.”

“Y/N, that jumper is mine too. And that one.” He pointed, and you rolled your eyes.

“You have plenty. You can share.”

“Come on, let’s get going.”

Draco wrapped a scarf around your neck and fastened the buttons on the coat like you were a child. You knew he was just doing it because he cared, and you let him, taking any affection you could get from Draco.

“Where are your gloves, honey?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and he frowned.

“It’s cold, you can’t keep losing them.”

“I know, let’s go now. I’ll find them later, for next time,” you begged.

“You can hold my hands so they don’t get cold, and my coat has pockets.”

“Alright, love, come on,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you to him as you apparated to Diagon Alley.

You shivered as snowflakes gently dusted into your hair, the freezing air nipping at your skin. You squeezed Draco’s hand, and he led you through the bustling street, weaving through groups of people. Draco was right, it was cold, but you didn’t dare complain, not wanting a lecture from your boyfriend about how you should keep better track of your gloves and hat.

“Y/N, go ahead,” he gently pushed you in front of him as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, helping the two of you escape the cold.

Draco kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowded pub. You squeezed through the crowded area, and ascended a flight of stairs to the second level. You smiled when you saw your favorite spot was open, a window bench with lots of pillows and a street view. You took a seat in the large round window, and Draco settled beside you.

“What can I get for you two?” A waitress asked.

“Butterbeer for us both, please.” You said politely, and Draco added vanilla cookies. She smiled and promised to have your order soon.

“Thanks for helping me escape school. I needed some “us time” away from it all,” you told Draco, who planted a kiss to your lips. He tasted like sage and vanilla, and his kiss was sweet and gentle.

“Of course, I love spending time with you,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and you leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. He turned and kissed the crown of your head, his fingers lightly tracing the embroidery on the sleeve of the coat you wore.

The waitress returned with your drinks, and you grinned, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around one of the glass mugs. Draco smiled at your excitement. He loved seeing you happy, even if it was over small things, like a warm drink on a cold day. You were so sweet. You were kind to everyone, especially him, and he loved you for it. You were the breath of fresh air and the gentleness he needed in his life, and he was profoundly in love with you. He adored you, and he was secretly happy when you stole his sweaters, because he loved to give them to you.

A tiny silver necklace with a moon charm always rested beneath your collar, matching the one he war. He’d given it to you as a gift on your birthday, three years ago when the two of you started dating, and you never took it off. It made him happy to see you wear it proudly. Sometimes, he would watch you from afar, seeing your fingers touch the pendant lightly whenever you missed him. He’d walk up to you then, and see your face light up with joy when you saw him.

“Draco, can I have one of your vanilla cookies?” you asked sweetly, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly.

He held out the plate to you, and you picked up the top one off the small pile with a smile. You bit into the soft cookie, smiling at him gratefully. He kissed your cheek, and you fed him a piece. He lightly nipped at your fingertip, making you squeal with delighted laughter.

“Don’t bite!” You giggled, pecking his lips, which now tasted like sugar and butterbeer.

“M’sorry, love,” Draco laughed, not sorry at all.

The two of you played chess on the tabletop with a small set the pub had while you drank the butterbeer and finished off the cookies. You watched the snow fall outside, and Draco tried to teach you chess strategies, though you were mostly lost.

“That’s alright. It’s getting late, anyway.” Draco said when the two of you got stuck in your match, the empty mugs long forgotten. You looked up, seeing that the sun had set, and the only light outside came from buzzing street lamps.

You held Draco’s hand tightly as you stepped out into the cold night, burying your face in his shoulder as the two of you walked back to a side street where you could apparate back to Hogwarts without being seen. You held your breath as Draco waved his wand, and you were suddenly back in your dormitory, disturbing your once-sleeping cat.

“Will you stay?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Of course.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

You hung up your coat and scarf, slipping your boots off and placing them in the bottom of the wardrobe. Draco draped his slacks, sweater, and undershirt over your chair, and pulled one of his jumpers you had stolen over his head. You stripped before pulling another over your head, his last name stitched on the chest. You turned to see Draco was pulling down your duvet, and you smiled at him softly.

You walked over, freeing your hair from your plait and picking up your brush from the dresser. Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around the brush, prying it from your grasp. You smiled up at him as he gently brushed the tangles from your hair, helping you get ready for bed. You sat on the sheets, knees pulled to your chest, and Draco softly dragging the brush through your hair. You were nearly asleep when he finished, yawning as you sat up.

“Get some sleep, love.” He slipped into bed behind you, pulling the duvet to cover you both. He murmured a spell to shut off the lights, darkness falling gently over the two of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, settling with you into his arms.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You whispered, and he kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

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siriuslyshewrote · 3 years

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Beautiful Boy - James Potter

A/N: aptly titled because yes, we all believe that James Potter is the most beautiful boy.

Requested? : yes

Word Count : 1.3k

Summary : James Potter fluff. What else could we possibly want?

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was something that could never be described as dull. Every moment spent in it was a blur of heightened emotions, whether they be good and bad, and there was never a day that went by without chaos. In comparison, your summers were positively dull.

As much as you loved the castle, you loved the people even more, your housemates and classmates, in particularly the close circle of friends you had woven together over your seven years in Hogwarts. Lily , Mary and Marlene took precedent as your closest girl friends, the ones with which every night in the dormitories was a sleepover, toasting your feet agains the little log burner, listening to the latest muggle records, and laughing your heads off. Sirius and Remus and Peter were brilliant boys, and you loved them deeply, too. James always said you loved too deeply.

It was he that you loved the most, that messy haired bespectacled boy with the crooked , previously broken nose and lopsided grin. With his warm hands and suffocating hugs and intoxicating presence. James knew you more than anyone, and had been a constant in your life since the two of you were tiny children, growing up living on the same street. He above anyone knew each one of your deepest and darkest secrets, your most mortifying memories, and embarrassing crushes. All but one, of course.

The crackling embers of the fire, and the quiet, exhausted chatter of the group around you soothed you, as you finally gave up on your Transfiguration essay, and dropped both it and your quill onto one of the many rugs that littered the floor of the common room. Music, from someone or others record player, played Bowie in the background.

"Tired?"

James grinned from beside you, his head lolling on the back of the sofa. He, too, had given up on his essay, by this time. You had no idea how he wasn't asleep already - he got up at the crack of dawn every single morning to play Quidditch, and still had the exuberant energy of a golden retriever.

You nodded , barely suppressing a yawn as you stretched out on the sofa the both of you were sharing, laying your head into his lap, wearily watching the animated conversation between Marlene and Sirius about something or other. Knowing Sirius and Marlene, she was trying to point out the flaws in another one of his crazily thought out schemes. Remus, too, was watching the pair with a secret smile upon his face - his eyes straying more to Sirius than anyone else, over the top of his book.

Mary was already asleep, curled up in a velvet armchair like a cat, her limbs tucked underneath her as she snored gently.

Your eyelashes drooped, brushing against your cheek, as your eyes closed against your protest. N.E.W.T's, you had very quickly discovered during your first few week back at school for seventh year, were living up to their name this year. They truly were exhausting.

Fingers combed through your hair, with a gentle clumsiness that you would recognise even if your head was currently not in his lap.

"What're you doing?" You mumbled sleepily, too tired to open your eyes, poking at his knee with your finger.

"Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair." He whispered, continuing with his mission.

You hoped that he was too concerned with your hair to see the smile that tugged on your lips at his words. James often devised these projects, randomly wanting to learn to do things until he achieved his goal. You had become his subject over the past few weeks as he attempted to learn how to braid, and had, several times walked back into the dormitory to the girls cackles at your newest hairstyle. James had the energy and will to do anything he wanted ... though perhaps styling hair was not his vocation. Really, Lily had told you, you only needed to look at his own hair to see that.

You didn't mind his newest project, and as you let him braid your hair by the fireplace, you desperately tried to pretend that it wasn't because him being so close made your heart beat a fierce drum against your ribs.

After a few minutes of quiet between the two of you, there was a lull in the conversation that you noticed even with your eyes closed in half sleep.

"Merlin, Prongs, could you be any more obvious?" Sirius' voice came from near the fire, a grin in his tone.

James fingers continued their work in your hair as he talked back to his friend.

"What?"

"That you are completely enamoured with our deer Y/N?" Even without looking at him, you could tell that Sirius was very pleased with his very much overused pun.

James tensed. Your breathing quickened slightly, though you didn't open your eyes.

Secretly, you wanted to hear what he would say.

"Piss off, Pads." He mumbled.

"It is quite obvious." Lily added in.

"Just a bit." Remus bit back the grin in his voice at his friends obvious discomfort.

"For fucks sake, guys!" James hissed quietly, clearly under the impression that you were asleep. "We are not dating."

"If you grew some balls, you would be." Sirius spoke, with murmurs of agreement from the others, apart from Mary, who you could still hear snoring.

James was quiet, for a moment.

"You'll have to tell her at some point, before someone else does." Lily spoke wisely. "Her and Amos are getting rather close, don't you think?"

James let out a scoff that was both a little defensive and a little bit worried.

"Y/N would never date that Hufflepuff."

"So you do admit that you like her?" Lily said triumphantly.

"Love her, more like." Sirius chipped in.

James' fingers were weaving once again in your hair, though perhaps a little bit less gentle than before.

"Just leave it." His tone indicated that he no longer wanted to discuss it, and the rest of the Gryffindor's clearly picked upon the tense tone he had adopted, because the conversation shifted quickly after that.

Though you desperately wanted to mull over what had just been said, you felt the pull of sleep drag you into unconsciousness. ————— "Love."

A gentle voice awoke you, with a slight shake of your shoulders. Blearily, you blinked, opening your eyes to the Common Room, which was much lighter than it had been when you closed your eyes. The fire had died in the fireplace, leaving only a few embers behind.

"Mmm?" You replied, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. You realised that you were still lying in James' lap, and a small flush crept up your cheeks.

"I've got to go to Quidditch practice. We’ve got the match this morning.” He said quietly, giving you a sorry look.

"Have you slept down here all night?" You questioned, sitting up and stretching, feeling your bones pop and crack after your slightly uncomfortable sleeping position.

He shrugged, standing up with a stretch, his jumper pulling up and exposing a sliver of his tanned stomach. He ruffled his hair, trying to rid his bed head.

"You were asleep. I couldn't wake you, you'd probably kill me." A ghost of a grin flickered onto his face.

"Sorry." You yawned, holding out a hand for him to pull your off the sofa. He obliged.

"I've really gotta go." He said regretfully, brushing his lips against your forehead in a typical James gesture.

"Love you, Prongsie." You spoke sleepily, making to go up the stairs of your dorm to get a few hours more sleep.

"Yeah... Love you too." His speech sounded almost painful to him, but you were too tired to register it.

In fact, you were too tired to even remember the conversation you had heard the previous night until you reached the top of the stairs, and by that time, James was gone.

#James potter #James Potter x reader #James Potter imagine #James potter fanfiction #James potter fanfic #James Potter oneshot #maruaders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders era imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter imagines #Harry Potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fandom

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lucky-peoqle · 4 years

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unwanted guests | d.m.

pairings: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader, somewhat platonic!weasley twins (fred is pretty flirty😁)x hufflepuff!reader, platonic!cedric diggory x reader, and platonic!zacharias smith x reader.

summary: y/n the hufflepuff american student promised her housemates, cedric and zacharias, that she would watch them practice for their next match, she was accompanied by the infamous gryffindors, the weasley twins. as watching her house, she starts hearing whooping and hollering, she soon gets annoyed with the group of slytherins and confronts them.

warnings: some swearing, blood, pansy bodyshames reader

a/n: hello, ive bee super busy with school !! im currently obsessed with hp again :) hope u all enjoy this,, its a bit longer than usual. this is set during goblet of fire !! :) very unedited and kinda rushed :/ sorry

the temperature was pretty cold on this particular fall day, as the y/h/c hufflepuff sat outside, writing in a journal she kept, looking up to answer her housemate and one of her best friend, cedric diggory's questions.

"so, will you come? zacharias thought it would be a good idea," he said, motioning to the blonde hufflepuff boy who was watching from afar.

"hm? oh, uh, sure! if it makes you two happy," she looked up from her journal, smiling at the brunette, then the blonde.

"great! i'll tell him when we get to lunch."

and with that, the bell rang, making the other people outside with you get up and head inside to the great hall.

the two of you got up, and started making your way to the great hall, colored robes passing you by. "did you ever open up the golden dragon egg?" you said, looking up at him.

"yeah! that reminds me, i have to tell harry about that. thanks," he smiled.

you smiled back, "potter? you're telling him how to open it?"

"why not, y'know. it's the least i could do," he shrugged.

"that's so sweet! i'm glad you two are getting along."

by now you were in the great hall, walking past the gryffindor table to your table, making eye contact with the golden trio and weasley twins as you passed by with your best friend.

you were in the same year as the golden trio, meeting them the first day on the train, them finding you american accent amusing, but they got use to it pretty fast. then they introduced you to ron's twin brothers, fred and george, they were drawn to you instantly, poking fun of your accent from time to time.

last but not least, you met cedric. you met cedric in the common room your second day of hogwarts. you had drifted to sleep, one of you housemates cats curled on your lap, and cedric had woken you, helping you back to bed. ever since then you had been best friends ever since.

you took your sear next to cedric, zacharias smith, another close friend of yours, sat across from the two of you.

"zach! good news, y/n is coming to watch us practice tomorrow," the brunette smiled brightly.

"great! i can't wait to show off to you, maybe it'll make you fall for me instead of that weasley twin," he said jokingly.

"who? fred?" she chuckled, "zach, you're kidding right? freddies just a friend. sure we flirt, but that's what friends do, right?"

"you have a weird interpretation of friendship y/n/n," zach stifled a laugh.

you rolled your eyes, turning your head towards cedric, who was looking at the ravenclaw table, that was standing next to your table. you followed his eyesight that was met with cho chang.

"ced is making googly eyes at his girlfriend again," you laugh, making him turn his attention to you.

"so what? don't act like i didn't see you smiling at fred weasley."

"i smiled at all of them! fred and i don't have feelings for each other," she huffed.

"suree," zacharias said in a sing song voice.

you shook your head, poking your food around your plate, looking across the ravenclaw table to the slytherin table. you saw draco malfoy joking with his friends, his cold grey eyes drifting to meet your warm y/e/c ones. his eyes grew colder once they finally met yours. you softly smiled at him and his eyes grew softer, and he quickly turned his attention back to his group of friends.

'huh, weird,' you thought, turning your attention back to cedric and zacharias.

the day quickly passed, ending like it always does. going into the hufflepuff common room, it being filled with muggle and non-muggle type plants, the warm fireplace going. you made your way up to your dorm you shared with hannah abbott. changing out of your robs and falling asleep quickly.

you woke up, the warm fall sun peeking through the window of your dorm. you looked over at hannah, who had been awake but reading, it was still a bit early so breakfast wouldn't be ready yet. it was saturday after all, so no need to worry about classes.

"morning," you mumbled tiredly to hannah.

"good morning!" she put her book down, "i came back late last night from study with ernie and you were out like a light!"

"yeah, last night was kinda of tiring," you chuckled, sitting up, "why are you up so early anyway?"

"i thought we could go down to the great hall together, we've been so busy and rarely get to talk, why not catch up on our way down there yeah?"

"sure! that sounds lovely," you smile, getting up from your bed.

the two of you got ready for the day, putting on your hufflepuff robes, and made your way down to the common room. only a few people were sat in the common room, a few waving and bidding you good morning as you passed by.

you two walked out of the common room and head up to the great hall. "so how have you been?" hannah asked beside you.

"i've been well! busy with getting cedric through the tournament, y'know..."

"yeah, that must be though."

"it isn't actually! im extremely proud of him, i know he'll win this."

"i really hope he does! finally a hufflepuff getting the recognition they deserve," hannah smiled.

"newt scamander is pretty cool," you smiled, "i take great pride in being as the same house as him."

hannah shrugged, "yeah, very interesting man, he is. isn't loony lovegood related to him?"

"don't call her that, she's very nice. but, i believe so, in some way."

by now, you're in the great hall, making your to your table. you continue to chat till hannah departs from you to sit with susan bones and leanne, who were chatting amongst themselves.

you quickly find cedric, who was chatting with justin finch-fletchley. you sat next to him and started putting food on your plate. he heard you and turned your attention on you.

"good morning y/n/n," he smiled brightly.

"good morning ced, how're you?"

"great! excited for practice today."

you two chatted for the rest of breakfast, by the end of it, you were stuffed. you looked at the slytherin table, remembering the look draco malfoy gave you. you spotted him, he was talking to crabbe, goyle, and pansy, laughing, smiling, he looked happy.

draco turned his head to answer someone's question, while doing so, he caught you staring. you blushed brightly, hesitating before giving you a smile. he returned the gesture with one of his iconic smug smirks.

you looked away, turning your attention to cedric, "practice starts soon, i should get ready. see you out there?"

you nodded with a smile, and he smiled back, getting up and leaving the great hall.

you got up after a bit of thinking, and made your way to your common room to grab your journal and scarf, since it would be chilly out.

once you did so, you made your way back up the stairs, going through corridor to corridor.

you were walking in peaceful silence, until you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, and lift you up, spinning you around.

you let out a laugh as the two head headed boys laughed loudly, "fred weasley! put me down!"

"what's the magic word?"

"please!"

"no, but close enough," he said, dropping you, making you land on your butt.

"ouch! fred! george! what were you thinking?"

"we weren't! so what are you up to?" george chuckled.

"i'm going to watch cedric and zacharias practice," you smile, "wanna come? i wouldn't mind the company."

"sure!" the boys said together.

you're little group of three walked to the quidditch posts, your yellow and black scarf clashing with their red and yellow ones. fred had thrown an arm around you shoulder.

you sat down in the middle of the twins, fred's arm sitting around you. you were right, it was chilly, but it was nice. this was your favorite time of year.

you watched as cedric and zacharias flew around, catching the ball or passing it to another teammate. zacharias caught sight of you, and winked, motioning to the arm around your shoulder. you just stuck your tounge out in response.

the time you spent was fun, until a certain group of slytherins decided to crash the practice. you rolled your eyes as the began to yell and laugh at them, distracting the players.

"ignore them," george said, "they have no brains, nor can they play fair."

you chuckled at that, "you're right on that one."

the four slytherins were still yelling, it was very annoying. fred and george reassuring you to leave them alone and they'll get bored and leave soon.

you kept your temper, watching your house practice. it was going fine, until draco yelled something towards cedric that made your best friend look at him, the ball hitting him right in the face, knocking cedric off his broom.

you gasp as you got up quickly, looking over the railing, watching cedric get up from his spot on the ground, wiping his now bloodied nose.

you turn to malfoy, who was staring in disbelief, but always laughing. pansy parkinson was shrieking out laughter, it hurt your ears. you walk up to the four, george and fred calling out to you to stop.

"hey!"

the four turned towards you, laughing still.

"what do you want, l/n?" draco asked.

"you ass! cedric could have gotten hurt! he's never done anything to you! you distracted him on purpose so that you wouldn't have to face loosing to him in our next quidditch match against slytherin!"

"and so what? it's not like you can stop us from coming up here during their practice," pansy laughed. "you're just a pathetic little hufflepuff, well i wouldn't say little... your robes make you look fat."

you took a step back, you had always been insecure about your weight and body image. you began to tear up. george and fred too far away to hear what was going on. you opened your mouth to defend yourself, but nothing came out except a small squeak.

pansy, crabbe, and goyle all let out shrieks of laughter. you couldn't let them see you cry, so you ran. you heard shouting behind you. draco yelling something, and the twins shouting after you, following you.

you had lost them though, finding yourself in moaning myrtles bathroom. you said down the wall, letting out sob after sob. you sat there crying for a while, until you heard someone come in.

"leave me alone, you're unwanted here." you choke out, looking away from them.

"sorry about what pansy said back there, i told her since the start of third year, you were off limits."

you turn around, seeing the platinum blonde slytherin. "off limits?"

"from us bullying you, she's been jealous of you since."

"jealous? of me? what are you talking about?"

draco took a seat next to you, "i've fancied you for a while, just never had the courage to tell you. i thought you liked one of the weasley twins honestly."

you shook you head, "or were you just too ashamed to tell me since im a pathetic hufflepuff?" you sniffed.

"what? no, no! that's not it, i was just scared. I didn't want to be rejected, i guess."

"the thing back there with cedric, you're an ass for that."

"i know, i didn't mean for him to get knocked off his broom, i deserved to get yelled at."

you sat in comfortable silence for a while, not knowing what to say. pansy's words making their way back into your thoughts.

"pansy was right."

draco laughed, "about?"

"me being fat, my robes look horrible on me."

"don't say that! y/n, you're on of the most beautiful people i've ever seen walk this earth," draco said looking over at you.

"why the sudden urge to tell me about your feelings?"

"because it felt right... like yesterday and this morning, you smiled at me and it felt like it was time," he sighed.

you smiled over at him, and grabbed his hand. he intertwined your fingers and smiled back. he began to lean in, until his lips met yours, fireworks going off. you pulled away, your face bright read.

"who would of thought, me, draco malfoy, slytherin prince, dating a hufflepuff..."

"the world works in crazy ways," you smile, "i'm glad you came looking for me."

"so am i, y/n, so am i."

end.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy #fred wealsey #george wealsey x reader #fred weasley x reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #weasley twins #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy imagine #weasley twins x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

FIREWORKS AND STREAMERS

Request: I have been insecure about my curly hair lately and was wondering if you can you write something with one of the weasley twins where the reader is insecure about her curly hair and one of the twins makes her feel better.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @wildcat1434

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: none

A/N: So like, incoming fluff bc this idea was cute and sometimes I do be needing fluff, that's about it, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The relationship between me and my hair had always been... Bumpy, you could say.

There were periods in which I would find it quite lovely; during those times I would let my curls free, showing them off with a proud demeanor, knowing my hair was unique. Those times began to turn less and less usual since the middle of third year, though they were still there.

However, after the summer prior to my sixth year, those moments had banished; I only wished to hide my hair, and my friends ended up noticing. They told me surely there would be a spell or potion able to change my hair.

As if they had summoned it, the next day in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall introduced us to what seemed like my salvation; Crinus Muto, an advanced spell that modified the caster's hair with no restrictions.

My best friend advised me against using it, claiming it wouldn't help my insecurity— if only, it would worsen it.

I really wanted to do as she had told me and completely dismiss the spell's existence, but two nights after I had a big mental breakdown about it, caused by the most stupid thing ever.

"Is Weasley staring at you or am I blind?" One of my friends whispered, her eyes trained on the Gryffindor table.

I didn't even bother to look up, not wanting to know whether it was true or not, before responding with a quiet "You're blind."

"I mean, it's hard to tell with two rows of students between us but," She nudged me, urging me to avert my gaze from my dinner and redirect it to Fred. "it kinda looks like he's... staring."

Curiosity killed the cat, I guess. My eyes finally left my plate and were, in fact, met with Fred's brown ones. As soon as they met, though, he looked away, pretending to be focused on his food, just like I had been doing seconds ago.

"Of course he's staring." Hannah Abbot, who sat right in front of my friend, commented with her mouth full. "Have you seen your hair?" She swallowed her food, looking me up and down before adding, "No offense, but it's an absolute mess." My eyes opened widely in shock at her bluntness. "You should take care of it, really."

"Has someone ever told you you're an ill-mannered bitch, Hannah?" I heard my friend talking back at the younger girl while I got up and started to make my way out of the Great Hall.

Of course, I didn't see Fred shooting up and attempting to go after me; ultimately he decided to stay in his place, since he saw my friend walking out too.

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

I was very aware of all the pair of eyes that had been laid on me the very moment I entered the greenhouse where we would be doing the Herbology tasks.

When I had met my friends at the Hufflepuff common room that morning, I had received divided opinions about my straight hair. At first I had been very convinced that it looked way better than my curly hair, but seeing my friends' reaction, I wasn't that confident about it anymore.

I didn't have time to undo the spell before class, so I decided to go along with it and see how the day unfolded.

I took a deep breath, my eyes trained on the ground as I made my way to an empty seat; maybe there weren't that many people staring, maybe it was just my anxiety.

I finally gathered the courage and looked up, nervously scanning the glasshouse so I could shake off my fears.

There was only a couple of my peers staring, which would have put me at ease, if one of them wasn't Fred Weasley.

On top of it, of course, he wasn't even trying to be subtle, it was almost as if he wanted me to notice his judging eyes; I could feel his gaze on me for the entire class.

The instant Professor Sprout dismissed us, I shoved everything in my bag and left the greenhouse, thanking a couple of Gryffindors who complimented my hair on my way out.

Again, I didn't notice Fred leaving the class as soon as he could to run after me.

I threw my bag against a tree near the lake shore and, as I fell against it, I heard someone jogging in my direction.

"In a hurry to sit by the lake, Y/l/n?" I followed the tall ginger with my eyes while he circled me and sat down by me. "You alright?"

"I just needed a break from... People." I vaguely explained, focusing on the water instead of on the boy besides me.

"Understandable." He hesitated for a second before adding, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, it's fine." I surprised myself at how calmed and collected I sounded, as if I wasn't chatting with my crush.

"What happened to your hair?" His genuinely curious inquiry took me aback, and I struggled to find something to answer.

"Why?" My heartbeat picked up, anxiety inundating me once more. "You don't like it?"

"It looks weird." Fred looked at me up and down with a grimace. "You don't... Look like yourself." I was about to enter fight or flight mode, but he seemed to notice, and panic made its way to his face. "But it doesn't matter what I think," he was quick to add, his eyes wide open as if he knew he had said something he should have not. "I mean— I think it shouldn't matter, if you like it, that's great— I mean, you don't need my opinion about that either!"

"Calm down, I understand." I tried to reassure him, before his rambling drove the both of us crazy. "Can I tell you a secret?" He nodded with pursed lips, surely afraid he would fuck up if he spoke again. "I've been very insecure about my hair lately— like, very." I sighed. "My best friend told me not to straighten it, but last night I got a not so nice comment and—"

"So that's why you left?" I nodded, tugging my sleeves. Fred went silent for a moment, and then cleared his throat and scooted closer to me. "I know this won't do much, but I really love your hair. Kinda reminds me of fireworks and streamers." He gestured around his own head, mimicking the fireworks' movement. "Dunno I think is fun and pretty awesome." I raised my brows at him in surprise. "Like you."

"Aw, that's very sweet." He offered me a sheepish smile as I felt my cheeks blushing. "It does a lot, actually." I confessed, fidgeting with my rings. "I guess I kinda needed to hear something positive about my hair."

"Well, whenever you need to hear something positive about your hair," he pointed at himself. "I'm your man." He winked at me and I let out a chuckle. "I can also tell you positive things about you in general, but that has a price."

"And what is it?"

"You'll have to let me buy you a drink at The Three Broomsticks this Saturday." I tried not to let panic slip through my recently eased demeanor; was he asking me on a date? "And give me a kiss after." He wiggled his brows at me and my face turned red. "the kiss is negotiable."

I casted my gaze down, fixing it on my shoes, not sure of what I was supposed to say at that. His foot tapping mine snapped me out of my thoughts.

"So?" My eyes traveled to him once more, only to find his studying me already. "What do you say, Y/l/n?"

"Well," I shrugged, trying in vain to play nonchalant. "Seems like an affordable price, so it's fine by me."

"I'll pick you up after lunch, yeah?" Before I could agree, he gasped, his eyes going wide. "I'm a genius."

"Come again?" I frowned, confused as his sudden frantic behavior.

"Don't mind me, love." He jumped up and jogged towards the castle, leaving me puzzled in there. I was about to grab a book from my bag when Fred rushed back, crouched down and pecked my cheek. "Your hair's amazing." He assured me. "See you!" My fingertips graced my now flushed cheek as he headed off.

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

I was finishing my lunch when two towering redheads entered the Hall running; while George, slowed down, Fred made a beeline to the Hufflepuff table, his casual clothes already on.

"Ready?" He asked breathless.

"Yeah— you didn't have lunch, did you?" I pointed out, getting up to stand in front of him.

"No, but I'll eat something later—" his eyes roamed over my carefully picked outfit before stating, "You look... very pretty."

"Why, thank you." I offered him a smile and looked over my shoulder at the Gryffindor table, where his friends were very attentive to all we did. "You sure you don't wanna eat something?"

"Hundred percent." He tilted his head towards the gates. "shall we?" He prompted to walk before him, and it was then that I realized he had his hands behind his back. Once we were out in the yard, he tugged my hand and made me turn to him. "I made something for you."

"You didn't have to." Was the first thing that came to my mind when I heard his words. Then the wording dawned on me; he didn't get me something, he made me something. "What is it?"

"So, you know that I told you your hair reminded me of fireworks and streamers?" I nodded, not quite knowing where he was going with that. "Well—" he then showed me what his back was hiding; a delicate, tiny firecracker with my name written on the side. "George helped me so I could finish it on time."

"I'm—" at my loss of words, I could only let out a happy laugh. "This is so cute— am I supposed to ignite it?"

"Duh!" I gently pushed his shoulder in response to his teasing. "Do you know how to do it?"

"I've seen you do it plenty of times." I admitted, grabbing the firecracker with one hand and my wand with the other; it looked so pretty, it was a pity I'd have to ruin it.

With a brief firemaking spell, the firecracker set off. Fred pulled me back slightly before it happened, though.

I was in awe at the beautiful fireworks before us, which looked like a color-changing, expanding version of my hair.

When the colors died out, I turned to Fred, whose attention was already on me, awaiting for a reaction. Surely, he was not expecting the kiss he got, but he didn't complain either; while my hands rested on his chest, his traveled to cup my cheeks before I could pull away.

"So you liked it?" He questioned quietly against my lips.

"I loved it." I whispered back with a wide smile. "You're a sweetheart." I pecked his lips before retreating. Holding his hand in mines, I made my way back into the castle. "We're not leaving until you have lunch."

"You are a sweetheart." He responded, following my lead without offering resistance. "By the way, your hair looks gorgeous." The corners of my lips twisted into a bigger smile at the sweet words he spoke only for me to hear as we went back into the Great Hall.

Maybe my hair wasn't that bad after all.

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

Other Girls (one shot)

Harry Potter AU-Marauders Era

Request- can you please do a Regulus x reader one shot where they're best friends and they do everything together, but she never goes to his Quidditch games due to the fact that there are always girls flirting with him and she gets really jealous over it because over time, she's developed romantic feelings for him. But he gets really stressed over his final quidditch match, begs her to come, so she does and they end up confessing their feelings

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

____

You should come.”

“I have to study…”

This was the typical conversation that you seemed to have with Regulus throughout quidditch season. It was Regulus following you around asking you to come to his matches and you coming up with clever excuses as to why you wouldn’t. You had come up with some clever ones over the last two years. It was nothing to be proud of either. Your best friend wanted you there to watch him but you couldn’t bear it. It was nothing to do with the sport in the slightest. You were just fine with quidditch. It was Regulus’ little band of “groupies” that got to you.

Watching your best friend flirt with whatever girl was throwing herself at him was enough to make you want to vomit. At first, the feeling was bemusement. When your feelings for your best friend started becoming more intimate it became jealousy and pain. All of these girls never found Regulus interesting until he started showing how skilled that he was as a seeker. It also probably had something to do with him being Sirius Black’s brother. These girls were little rejects that Sirius had either said no to or had dated himself and was desperate to have something like Sirius back. Little did they seem to realize, Regulus was nothing like Sirius...or so you thought.

That thought started changing when Regulus started flirting back with these girls or disappearing off of the planet with one of them into a broom cupboard or under a set of stairs. You tried not to let it get to you but it was. It was getting to you bad and beginning to affect your friendship.

“I don’t understand what is going on. You seem so moody and grumpy lately? Did I do something?”

Regulus asked one morning over breakfast. You tried to ignore the question but he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“No, you didn’t do anything.”

Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr, who had put 2 and 2 together, were shaking their heads in annoyance. You didn’t have to be part of their little group to know that they were muttering about Regulus being a blind idiot.

“Then what in the devil is going on?”

“I started my period, okay!”

You hissed. Regulus’ cheeks went scarlet as he looked down at his lap. You hated that you gave him such a snippy response but it was the best that you could come up with.

Pulling yourself from the memory of the previous day, you sighed miserably as Regulus followed you around the library. Just when your feelings changed from friendship to romance was still fuzzy. Part of you swore that you had always had a crush on Regulus. The other part swore it was 4th year when he came back to school from summer vacation taller with a deeper voice and longer hair.

“That’s also when every other girl started finding him interesting too.”

Your mind supplied. Regulus speaking again broke your thoughts.

“Y/n, I’m sorry but I don’t understand. You used to come to watch the matches all the time then suddenly you’ve stopped. We do everything together so why can’t you come and watch…”

“We don’t do everything together anymore.”

You replied. Regulus crossed his arms over his chest beginning to get annoyed. He wasn’t sure what your problem was and it was beginning to get under his skin. You didn’t seem to understand how badly he wanted you. Was it that hard to understand? It seemed like the harder he tried the more you shut him down.

That was the reason that he dated the other girls. Regulus was desperate to have what he wanted with you. He really cared nothing for the other girls and perhaps it was cruel but he couldn’t help the feelings. You were the girl that he wanted to sit at the top of the astronomy tower with or the girl that he wanted to hold in his arms at night in the common room.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Regulus finally asked. You put the heavy book that you were holding down before turning and facing him with that feisty sassy frown. Damn, had you always been this pretty?

As you were about to respond, a girl that you decided to call blonde bimbo number 4 came up and wrapped her arms around Regulus’ left arm.

“There you are! I thought that we had a date.”

Regulus watched as your eyes narrowed on Abigail...or at least he thought that her name was Abigail. He would have to put that together later. Regulus had developed his own methods for getting girl’s names that he didn’t remember.

Oh Merlin, I am turning into my brother…

Regulus thought with a scowl.

“Exhibit A.”

You commented before turning and walking away without another word. Regulus wiggled his arm loose before turning to...whatever her name was.

“Can you give me a moment?”

The girl nodded, batting her eyes at him. Had it been the year before and Regulus hadn’t developed some skill with dealing with members of the opposite sex he would have probably asked if she had something in her eyes. Now he knew that this was supposed to be attractive and went with it.

“Y/n, wait!”

You turned around as Regulus ran after you. He shoved some of his messy curls away from his face before reaching out for your hands.

“Look, I'm sorry I know that I have been a bit...distracted but you’re still my best friends and I…”

You slowly pulled your hands out of his, unable to handle the physical contact.

“Reggie, you’re beyond distracted. You won't understand what’s going on. Go have fun with whatever her name is then tomorrow you can go out with her red-headed best friend. You’re a smart guy...figure it out.”

“I would understand a lot more if you would freaking talk to me. Its like you are turning into some kind of jealous...oh….OH!”

Regulus had finally put two and two together! His mouth dropped as he looked down at you with an opened mouth. You liked him! How had he not seen the jealousy in your eyes before?

“Y/n, I…”

“Regulus, are you coming?”

Abigail’s voice interrupted the moment again. Your eyes narrowed on Regulus’ face again. He was looking at you with apologetic eyes now.

“Have fun and just forget it.”

You coldy stated before turning and walking away. Walking a little slower than normal, you wanted to give Regulus a chance to come after you. If he came after you then you would know that he actually felt something. If he didn’t, well, you had probably just lost your best friend.

When you didn’t hear his footsteps coming after you, the last thing that you wanted to see was Regulus wrap his arms around that girl. Now he knew your secret and instead of coming after you, he was going with the other girl...perfect.

Storming into the common room, you met Evan’s gaze. He automatically knew that something was wrong and curious to know what Regulus did or didn’t do. You flopped down on the couch and handed him a pillow.

“Just smother me. When I stop twitching, you’ll know that I am dead.”

Evan laughed.

“Yeah, like I’m going to do that. What’s going on?”

You jumped up and started tugging on your hair.

“I really did it this time, Evan. Regulus knows that I like him and he still went out with that stupid Abigail from Hufflepuff.”

Evan frowned.

“Let me get this straight, he went out with her and not with you?”

You nodded.

“Of course, he went out with her. She’s pretty and bubbly. I’m this snobby bitch that says the wrong things as the wrong time. I love all of my friends but I just hate being here!”

You sat back down on the couch and fought the urge to cry. Evan scooted closer to you.

“Y/n, Regulus wants you...he’s told me himself. I’ll talk to him...if you would like.”

You shook your head.

“No, just forget it, Evan. If he is going to be running around with all of these girls that turn up at the matches like some kind of sex-crazed group of girls at a rock concert I would rather be left the hell alone. I’m sure there is some other boy in this castle that I could fall in love with...if not then I’ll be a cat lady.”

Evan laughed hard at that one.

“Whatever, Y/n. You are too pretty to be a cat lady.”

You stood up, wanting nothing more than to go hide in your bed and never come out. At least in the girls' dormitory, you wouldn’t have to face Regulus.

“I’m going to put my order in for a black cat. Excuse me.”

You had been out of the common room for five minutes when Regulus walked in. Evan had settled back down in front of his homework. He didn’t look up at his friend.

“You just missed her. Whatever you did, nice going. Y/n is convinced that she is going to be some kind of spinster cat lady.”

Regulus ran a hand through his hair.

“I need to talk to her but she keeps running away.”

Evan shrugged.

“Thank you for joining the rest of society and realizing that she likes you.”

Regulus walked across the room and snatched Evan’s book to force the other boy to look up.

“How long?”

Regulus questioned. Evan frowned.

“How long what?”

Regulus put a hand over his face. Was he dealing with idiots?

“How long has Y/n liked me and why wasn’t I let in on this secret?”

Evan threw his hands up becoming impatient himself.

“Regulus are you really that blind? Y/n has had it bad for you for ages! I don’t see her snuggling with her other friends the way that she does you. She goes out on limbs to do whatever it is that you want. That girl would follow you anywhere and you don’t see it. A friendly word of advice...stop flirting with those girls that you have taken a liking too. It's crushing Y/n. Will you please talk to her tomorrow and stop acting like a 12 year old girl? It's really annoying.”

Regulus groaned and sat down. This was the last thing that he had ever expected to happen. He never planned on you actually liking him. Now that it was happening, he felt like a fool...a heartless fool who was breaking your heart.

“I have been so stressed over this final quidditch match that I am not seeing anything going on around me. Do you think that I have any chance of fixing it with her?”

Evan nodded.

“Regulus, I hope so because you two are making me sick.”

The next morning, you waited until the common room was empty before you dared going down to breakfast. Regulus hadn’t tried to speak with you at all the night before. You figured he was too busy doing whatever he did with his “girlfriends.”

“That is the last thing that I want to think about.”

You muttered as you made your way out of the dungeons. As you walked past Professor Slughorn’s class a set of hands reached out and tugged you in. You were ready to hex whoever it was when you met Regulus’ gaze.

“Are you trying to scare me to death?”

You snapped as Regulus fixed your messy robe. He shrugged.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Regulus, I really don’t think…”

Before you could finish the sentence, Regulus was kissing you. You stood motionless as he poured his soul into the kiss. He pulled away but kept his face close to yours.

“What was that?”

You asked. Regulus gave you a rare smile. The two of you weren’t “smiley” people. Both of your facial expressions mirrored major cases of “resting bitch face.”

“I really like you, Y/n. I want to be with you.”

“You’re being mean.”

You commented and pulled yourself from his arms. Regulus had his wand out and slammed the door before you could reach it.

“I am not being mean! Y/n, I didn’t know! I’m sorry...if I had known...I would have said something before now. Look, I am a typical useless man.”

You turned around with a sigh.

“You are not a typical useless man.”

Regulus gave you a sheepish shrug.

“I’m calling it as I see it. I have hurt the one person that I swore I would never do anything cold to. You could have told me sooner too, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest.

“And you would have laughed at me.”

Regulus was annoyed now.

“I never would have laughed at you! You aren’t getting my point. I have been so stressed out over this final match that I apparently haven’t noticed anything but I do now. Please, would you consider being my girlfriend?”

He stepped closer and gently touched the side of your face. You wanted to play hard to get but didn’t have the strength.

“I can’t bear watching your flirt with those other girls.”

Regulus shook his head. He quickly pulled you into another kiss.

“There will be no other girls.”

“Promise?”

You weakly asked. Regulus smiled.

“I promise.”

The next day you sat wedged in-between Evan and Barty at the final quidditch match of the season. You woke up feeling sick to your stomach with worry. Today would be the day that you would really know if Regulus meant what he said. You only agreed to come to appease Regulus. If he flirted with one girl you were out of there and never speaking to him again. That was no threat but a promise.

From where you sat you could see Abigail and her little friends eyeing Regulus hopefully. You took a shaky breath as Evan leaned over.

“They have nothing on you.”

You could only nod at Evan’s comment. There was no way that you could formulate a sentence.

As the match came to an end, you followed Evan and Barty down onto the pitch. You felt your stomach begin to feel queasy the moment Abigail and her “friends” showed up. Regulus was busy talking to one of his other friends before his grey eyes turned to you. He immediately gave you a small smile and picked up on the source of your nervousness.

Abigail was already screeching his name but Regulus chose to ignore her. He instead walked right past Abigail and all of the other girls that he would typically flirt with for kicks. Seeing you smile was a relief.

“See? I said no other girls.”

Regulus said with a smirk before pulling you into his arms. There wouldn’t be any other girls. From here on out you would be the only girl.

“Yes, you did. I think they will really get the message if you kiss me.”

Regulus glanced over his shoulder at the stunned group of girls before turning back to you.

“I guess we should really rock their worlds.”

_______

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#Regulus Black #Regulus Black x Reader #Sirius Black #Evan Rosier #Barty Crouch Jr #timothee chalamet as regulus black #request fic #annon request #harry potter marauders #young marauders #regulus x reader #regulus arcturus black #harry potter fan fiction #regulus black fanfiction #Other Girls #Other Girls oneshot

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

war… what is it good for? // sirius black

Summary: Slytherin!reader puts Sirius in a tailspin - the brink of war isn’t the best timing (based on this – i.e. my favourite thing ever)

Request: just my heart tbh

A/N: I love love love Slytherin!reader x Sirius like it just.... boy especially bc go to Slytherin!reader anthem is ‘you should see me in a crown’ - billie eilish

Reader: female, Slytherin, pureblood

Warnings: none.. I think?

Sirius Black hadn’t thought about you in years.

The last, and only, other interaction you’d had with him had been when you were eight years-old at a Black family party. Almost ten years-ago now. He’d liked you then, actually. He’d noticed the way you’d muffled your laughter into your pumpkin juice when his aunt Druella sat on one of the mini quiches he may-or-may-not have placed there. He’d also noticed your perfectly confused expression when his Mother had asked you whether you’d seen her son.

“Which one?” You’d asked, knowing full well he was hidden under the table behind you.

“Sirius.” His Mother had answered, polite but agitated.

“Oh no,” you’d replied, only eight years-old and already a brilliant liar. “I haven’t seen him today.”

He’d always remembered the way he’d caught your eye later that night. He was crawling out from under the table and you were now across the room, stood next to your Father like the perfect pure-blood princess. You’d winked at him just as his Mother spotted him across the room.

The last time he’d thought of that moment was at the sorting ceremony. He’d been disappointed when you were placed in Slytherin. Unsurprised, though, he supposed. Even when he’d seen you in the corridors, he barely thought of you as anything but another uptight, pure-blood Slytherin; a death-eater in waiting. Especially after he ran away in fourth-year, he wanted nothing more to do with anything or anyone that reminded him of the family he so hated.

You were the last person he expected to see when running away from the Slytherin dungeon hours after curfew. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and made no attempt to hide the smile on his face. They’d all split up after the fireworks went off, already waking up half the castle; he had to go the long way but Sirius was sure he’d lost Filch a few minutes ago. He was still running, excited to get back to their dorm and recount the night. They hadn’t pulled a prank like that in a while; it didn’t seem right with a war brewing. But, Merlin, Sirius just couldn’t wipe the grin from his lips. That was until he was shoved rather harshly into an empty wall around the corner from the Fat Lady’s portrait. The sound of the breath leaving him echoed down the corridor. Half expecting to see Filch’s ugly sneer and that buggering cat, he was beyond startled to see you, your wand pointed as his neck. You rolled your eyes at his bewildered expression.

“What the-“

“Listen,” you said softly, inching closer to him and gripping his robes in your hand tighter as you pushed him further into the wall, your wand further into his throat. “You’re part of the Order, yes?”

“What?”

Sirius was still getting to grips with the situation; mentally and physically winded. He watched the way you huffed, frowning at your exasperation.

“The Order of the Phoenix.” You insisted, letting go of his robe but not daring to move your wand. Your patience was wearing thin as it was. “Are you part of it?”

“What do you care, Slytherin?” he sneered, remembering himself, remembering who you were and where you’d both come from. Where you still were. Your frown hardened at his words; he felt your wand under his jaw.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Without looking away from his face, you pulled a piece of tatty parchment from your robe, holding it between two fingers.

“This is a list of every Slytherin intending to get the dark mark.”

Sirius opened his mouth. No words came out. He didn’t know what to say; the thought of it made him feel sick. You ignored his silence. You understood it. Your only response: pressing the paper into his palm. He looked down as his hand curled around it. His eyes followed your fingers up to your face. He frowned. He opened his mouth, so many questions dancing on his tongue. Shouting echoed from down the corridor, a soft meowing following the sound of footsteps. Sirius’ eyebrows shot into his hairline, panicking slightly. But then he saw your dry look; a raised eyebrow. Were you amused?

“’S your doing, I suppose.”

It wasn’t question.

Before Sirius could respond, you had disappeared in the opposite direction. He stood for a moment, feeling the soft paper in his hand as if it were the most important thing in the world. Then, he looked down and say Mrs. Norris, her angry eyes punctuated by odd footsteps. Sirius’ eyes widened before he sprinted to the Fat Lady’s portrait, hissing the password and clambering into the common room. When he reached the dorm, he slammed the door behind him, leaning back on it. James lay on the floor, laughing with Remus who had his legs crossed on his bed. Peter was in the corner, changing.

“Pads?” James asked, frowning at his friend’s face.

“You won’t believe what just happened.”

He was right, actually. Being right was no victory given the situation. They spent the night talking about the list, the Order, you. Even the sunrise didn’t stop them. Peter had fallen asleep on the floor just after 2am but Remus, James and Sirius had never faltered.

“Why give you the list?” James mused. “You don’t know each other, do you? Some old pureblood elitist family thing?”

“Last time we talked we were eight, Prongs.”

As they dressed for breakfast, Remus noticed Sirius’ faraway look.

“Regulus wasn’t on there.” He said softly, tightening his tie scruffily. Sirius only exhaled.

“That’s good, right?” Peter added, hope written all over his face.

“He’s not gone dark.” James watched his best friend warily.

“Not yet.” Sirius sighed, running his hands through his hair.

They left to get breakfast in silence.

It wasn’t until they were met with the glares of a few dozen Slytherins that they remembered their prank. Sirius didn’t care, though. He was focused on only one Slytherin. He hadn’t said anything since they’d got to the Great Hall, ignoring James’ flirting with Lily and Remus and Peter’s in-depth discussion of whether Peter could write two metres of parchment in an hour. You were talking to your friends. Well, your friends were talking; you didn’t seem to be paying that much attention either. It was when your friend let out a shriek of laughter that echoed around the room when he finally snapped. By the time he got to the Hufflepuff table, people started to pay attention to Sirius Black striding over to Slytherin, of all tables.

You didn’t seem surprised to see him at all. Maybe that was just in comparison to your friends’ shock-horror reactions when he demanded they get lost. The entire Great Hall was watching you now. Sirius was dishevelled. He clearly hadn’t slept. The bags under his eyes were almost as dramatic as the frantic look in his eyes. Neither of you spoke first but the Slytherins around you were eagerly waiting. It must’ve been a few minutes of silence now, the whole room quiet. You put your toast down, sucking butter from the pad of your thumb.

“Hello, Black.”

It was at that point, your eyes staring into his dangerously, that Sirius realised he had no plan. How very Gryffindor of him. You looked unfazed but he could see the way you were staring at him, somewhere between daring him and begging him not to say anything.

“Can I help you?” You folded your arms and tilted your head mockingly. “Or did you want some toast?”

A wave of snickers filtered through the room. Sirius didn’t care. Confused and frustrated, he stood up, hands flat on the table. And then he fled. You returned to your breakfast, indifferent to the whispers erupting around you.

Sirius had been out of it all day: he’d knocked over his cauldron in Potions (too busy staring in your general direction), went to Divination twice (he was sure his next class was with the Slytherins) and he’d managed to turn his goblet in Transfiguration into a snake, not the cookery book required. He was relieved when the end of Potions came and he was free to go to bed and ignore the wreckage of the day. Fate had better ideas, though. Once again caught off guard, he was pulled into a broom closet, the door slammed shut behind him and an angry Slytherin glaring at him.

“If you ever pull anything like that again, I will kill you.”

“Oh, did I threaten your precious pureblood reputation?”

He didn’t mean what he said, not really. But he put all the venom he could into his words, moody and desperate.

“Do you think that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named gave me that list himself?” You asked, eyes alight and voice sharp. “That I asked him for a member’s list and he just owled one right over?”

He leant back against the door to the closet.

“Foolish.” You muttered under your breath, reaching for the door handle past Sirius. He couldn’t tell who you were talking about. Regardless, he held the door shut. When you looked at him, you saw the hard edges and the grey skies; the face of a Black.

“What about Regulus?”

“What about him?”

“He’s my brother.”

You blinked. “I know that.”

“He’s not on the list.”

“And?”

“So, he’s not a- not a Death Eater?” The way he gulped gave away how much he actually cared.

“Black-“

“Please.” His voice broke slightly. You screwed your eyes shut and huffed.

“Black, we are not friends. You and me? We’re not anything. I don’t like you. You made my life difficult this morning. I don’t need that. I gave you the list; now we’re even. Let me out.”

He knew he wouldn’t win this one. He let go, leaning against the wall rather than the door. As you opened the door, he frowned, stopping it with his foot. The look you shot him was nothing short of murderous.

“Even? What have I done for you?”

You let out a short, humourless laugh, letting the door close slightly. You looked down, rolling your eyes at the memory.

“In 3rd year, our parents were arranging our engagement. The plans fell through in 4th year. Walburga-“ he flinched at her name. “Wouldn’t say why. I saw you getting on the train with Potter’s parents the next year, though. It’s not hard to connect those dots.”

He didn’t say anything as you left; you didn’t spare him a second glance. He just stood there, musing on that this was the second time in as many days you’d left him speechless with his back against a wall.

#Sirius Black imagine #sirius black x reader #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #marauders #marauders imagine #imagine #writing #sirius black

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cursed-ice-spirits · 3 years

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Brother in the Dark

This story is written with the MC of @thecursedvaultchild. Enjoy c:

Summer glanced over her shoulder as she approached Jacob’s room. Silence met her, the dark halls of the school empty, except for her. Good. No one followed. She turned back around and slipped through the dark. She couldn't sleep and needed to check something, following a hunch she had.

Her thoughts suddenly halted at the sound of a voice, murmuring obsessively to themself. Someone was inside. She could hear them. It wasn't any of her friends, she made sure they had gone to bed hours ago. Her shoulders tensed, her hand moving to her wand, and she slowly peeked into the room.

A dim light shone inside, bouncing round, shining on the owner, a young man from the briefest glance. He was tall, a dark cloak over his shoulders, and he was murmuring to himself, checking over the messy papers scattered over the table and brushing aside cobwebs, stopping to cough into his palm. “I could have swore I put it here,” she heard him murmur, continuing to search.

Her wand was gripped tightly in her hand and she slipped inside the room, quiet and ready for the intruder to notice her, a spell on the tip of her tongue.

At first, he didn't quite notice for a minute. Maybe two. Then he paused, and flicked his wand, balls of light whooshing into the air. The lights barely made it into the air before he swiftly turned around and shot a spell that barely whizzed over Summer's head, smashing into the air.

"Tell me who you are and give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

She was ready and dodged the spell, throwing out one of her own to pin his wand hand under rope that she conjured. His hand flung to the side, shroud under rope, and with a grunt, he jerked, loosening the rope. "I could ask the same of you intruder."

Then her eyes adjusted to the light and her breath caught.

The light shone on his face, unveiling his finer features from the dark, handsome, but what truly startled her was the general features of Rebecca mirrored on his face - the same, except for the eyes.

Rebecca's were hazel.

His was dark, the same as his mother's... and uncle's.

Jacob Lord.

She could see the resemblance. It was eerily striking. Especially the eyes. "You're Jacob Lord." Her own eyes narrow. "How dare you scurry around here instead of giving Bex at least a hello."

At the sound of his name, he paused, then took a good long look at Summer. "Summer Charn isn't it. Went to school with your cousin. I can see the resemblance." He went stiff upon the mention of Rebecca. "It's for her own protection." He insisted. "I can't stick around for long. I can't waste time."

She lifted her chin. "Surprised you got the surname right. And I am nothing like him." She pointed her wand again at him. "You call visiting your only sister a waste of time? Do you know how much she frets over and misses you? You're family, that's more important than R."

"You don't understand - the moment I stop everything and make contact with her, all bets are off," his hiss came through teeth, narrowing dark eyes. His wand hand curled into a fist, testing the rope. "I'm doing this for her."

"It must take you a long time to fall asleep at night with that lie on your conscience." She flicks her wand, tightening the rope. "Don't test me, Lord. I don't want to fight you, but this is ridiculous. I understand you're trying to break her curse, we all are. But you're her brother. The best thing you can do for her is say hello before you scurry off again. You've abandoned her with Giddeon and Veila. She's got no family in her corner. Only her friends."

There was a short silence from him, even as the rope curled around his hand. His face stayed stone, but she could see the conflict on his face, two sides battling the other. The side that wanted revenge and to find a cure for his sister's cure... and the side that loves his sister.

The question is, who would win?

The love for his sister did. His eyes hardened at the mention of Giddeon and Velia, then he let out a loud sigh. "Fine. I'll go say hello."

"Good." She released the rope, eying him warily. "You better, Jacob. I don't want to be the one to tell Bex I spoke with her brother but he wouldn't see her. If I had a brother who did that... it'd break my heart."

He didn't say anything to that, merely slipping his wand away. As he turned, there was a slight longing in his eyes. "Where is she?"

"In the Hufflepuff dormitories. I can get you in. Or bring her out."

"Bring her out, if that's alright. I don't want to wake up the entire house when she wakes up."

Summer nods. "If you're not here when I'm back, I will personally hunt you down and hex you for Rebecca's sake." She gave him one more look before leaving the room, silently casting a tracker spell on him. She didn't trust him to not leave.

But she left, quickly becoming an innocent cat and slipping down to the kitchens, carefully sneaking into the room where Rebecca was sleeping.

It was quiet, the soft snores of her dormmates filling the silence. She padded over to her bed, and saw her laying on the mattress. She was surrounded by papers and books, a quill held loosely in her hand, face buried in a book, the page sticking to her cheek. It seemed that she was in the middle of studying before falling asleep on the spot.

A familiar jacket was curled around her shoulders. Diego's.

The pale cat jumped up and shoved herself in Bex's face, trying to gently but quickly wake her up. A soft meow came out as well. Rebecca twitched, then slowly blinked awake, peering through her eyelashes with tired eyes.

"Summer?" she murmured, her voice quiet. "Is something wrong?"

The cat shrugged and stepped back. Summer was now sitting there on the edge of her bed, in the middle of the night, in the wrong House dorms. "It's your brother. He's here. Follow me before he decides to vanish."

It took awhile for the message to sink in, but as soon as it did, her eyes flew open, now fully awake, and she sat up quickly. "He... he is?" When she saw that Summer was not joking, she kicked her blankets off her lap and sprinted over to the exit, her steps silent from her training as an assassin, and darted out of the dorms and down to the common room.

Summer returned to her cat form and nimbly followed after her. She waited for Bex to open the door and then streaked out of there, leading the familiar way down the halls towards Jacob's old room.

One two three one two three. Rebecca skipped to a stop in front of the door and tore it open. Jacob was still there, thank god. He went nowhere. She stood there for a few seconds, then took a few steps back and threw herself in his arms, nearly knocking him over.

Jacob held her close as they sank to the floor, Rebecca burying her face in his shirt. "Hey you..."

Summer stood in the doorway, awkwardly watching as her feline form. Her eyes softened at seeing their reunion. Satisfied that he had not turned tail and fled, she quietly left, giving them their privacy. She remained a few feet outside, waiting for Bex to emerge. She just wanted to make sure everything was good.

Several minutes later, Rebecca slowly emerged, rubbing away tears at the corner of her eyes with her thumb. She tried to compose herself however, and straighten, giving Summer a small smile.

"Thanks for ragging him and making him stay for a while."

Summer smiled back softly. "What are friends for? I've always got your back, Bex."

The edge of her lip twitched. "Still, I'll find a way to return the favor. Someday."

Jacob exited next. He paused to pull Rebecca into a hug, murmuring something into her ear. She nodded reluctantly as he pulled away. With one more shoulder squeeze, Jacob tugged his cloak hood over his head and disappeared.

Rebecca turned her face away, her face oddly blank.

Summer watched with pursed lips, not wanting to embarrass Rebecca or anything. But she does put an arm around her shoulders, grip tight.

Rebecca didn't tense at her touch, taking a moment to gather herself together, then took a deep breath and turned to Summer, her smile faint.

"I hate the vaults," she whispered. "Hate R especially. Maybe we should go back to bed. It's been a long night."

"Yeah, they're awful," she sighed. "....do you want company? I don't think anyone would blink twice at a random pet being in your dorm."

She went quiet. "Yeah sure." I think I'll need it went unsaid. She tugged at her sleeves. "Let's go."

Summer squeezed and nodded. Yet again, she shifted into her soft cat form and jumped up onto Rebecca’s shoulder, purring gently. With another deep breath, she started her way to the dorms, ready to collapse into her bed and forget this whole night.

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm jacob #lunar writes #jacob lord #summer charn #rebecca lord #hphm fanfiction #hphm fanfic #hphm fic #i lied a tiny bit but here's something soft and angsty hehe #i was gonna write the coversation between Jacob and Rebecca but i got too lazy so i didn't

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jeogiyall · 4 years

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𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡; 𝒍.𝒕𝒚

✦ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷𝟷𝟿𝟾

✦ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗁𝗈𝗀𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌! 𝖺𝗎, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗴

✦ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ: 𝗌𝗅𝗒𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗉𝗎𝖿𝖿! 𝗍𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀! 𝖺𝗎, 𝗇𝗈𝗇-𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍.

✦ᴀ/ɴ: 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈! 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗉𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖻𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁... 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒! -𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

—

Lee Taeyong rarely skipped dinner. Not only because he was the prefect of the hufflepuff house who had never broken a rule in his life (despite being the most hard headed hufflepuff you had ever met. It was seriously a wonder he wasn’t in gryffindor,) but also because he would never pass up a chance to eat pumpkin pasties. That’s why you found it odd that he was nowhere to be seen at the hufflepuff table. Normally you could find him sitting all the way at the front, laughing with his quidditch teammates Sicheng and Jeno, but they were by themselves. Still laughing though, the darn hufflepuffs. You turn your head to face your fellow prefect, Nakamoto Yuta, who was stuffing his face with roast chicken.

“Have you seen Taeyong?” Your voice comes out sounding too upset. You sounded like a child that just lost their mother at the grocery store.

“What?” He asks, swallowing his mouthful. You slap his arm and fake gag, “Boyfriend’s not here?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You reply curtly.

He actually is your boyfriend, but you both agreed not to tell anyone for a little while until the both of you could work up the nerve to tell your parents (your father was somewhat of a slytherin purist, he didn’t even want you to look at someone until you knew they were a slytherin,) “he’s my partner for a potions project. We’re supposed to work on it after dinner, but I can’t really do it when he’s not here.” Yuta laughs, obviously amused at the flush rising to your cheeks.

“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I don’t know where he is now, but after charms he mentioned going to the quidditch pitch to practice. I’d start there, and remind me to apologize to him for you being his potions partner. You’re seriously terrible at potions.” You roll your eyes while spearing a piece of asparagus with your fork. Taeyong had skipped meals in favor of practicing a handful of times, and every single time you lectured him on the importance of self care. He would nod and listen, yet still manage to wipe away all of your frustrations with a kiss then skip another meal a few weeks later when a big game was coming up. (Or when he had a big test coming up. Or when he had to write a letter home, or when he needed to clean his dorm, or this, or that, or literally anything else... You sometimes felt like he thought maintaining the world around him was more important than maintaining himself. You had told him this during one of your secret nighttime rendezvous; he didn’t say anything. Just kissed you deep and slow. You were pretty sure he had cried, the big softie.)

“I hate you, you know.” Yuta laughed through his full mouth, no doubt at the sour expression you were giving him; You were changing the topic, anything to distract him from guessing that you and Taeyong were, in fact, a thing.

Swallowing, he seemed not to notice your subtle switch in conversation as he answered, “Love you too!” while he ruffled your hair affectionately.

As soon as dinner was out you made a dash for the quidditch pitch. Right now you were supposed to be headed back to the slytherin common room to do a head count of all of the girls in your house, but instead you were going to check on your stubborn boyfriend. It was miraculous how many rules you’d broken since you two started dating, yet you seemed to be the only one that ever got in trouble. This should be fine though, no one would be upset if you told them that you were at the pitch cleaning off your broomstick. Yuta could handle the headcount... Probably.

Once you arrived at the pitch, hair windblown and chest heaving, you found Taeyong sure as day practicing beating drills that were meant to be done with two people. He saw you as soon as you walked onto the lush green grass, catching the bludger with one hand and waving (the smile that adorned his face made you want to cry. You could see the sweat dripping from his sandy blonde hair from here.) He flew to the equipment container, haphazardly throwing the bludger into it, then flew over to where you were standing. Judging by the exasperated expression you wore he was sure he was about to get chewed out.

“Okay first off, you shouldn’t practice beating drills by yourself. That’s why all beating drills require two people, because bludgers can seriously hurt people. They do seriously hurt people, all the time. Don’t you remember the story about that second-year who had to regrow his bones after a bludger broke his arm? You could get seriously hurt and no one would know it until you dragged your sorry self back to the castle.”

“I’m not alone! Nyx is here somewhere...” Your eyes go as wide as saucers.

“Your cat?!” He’s still floating on his broom, directly at eye level with you. If you weren’t so upset you would’ve kissed him. As a matter of fact, you really wanted to kiss him, so badly you almost forgot that you were in the middle of giving him a lecture.

“Yes, she’s a smart girl. What’s the next issue?”

You should be more upset that he’s not taking your concerns about his one man drill more seriously, but you probably wouldn’t win that fight. Besides, if something was seriously wrong Nyx would know to go get someone (probably you.)

“You skipped a meal again.” You sigh, shoulders relaxing.

“Did I really?” He furrows his eyebrows, jumping off his broom and to the ground.

“Yes, you did. But lucky from you I’m a good girlfriend that brought you food. Also I’ll do the drill with you properly once you’ve eaten.” He smiles at you, brown eyes filled with gratitude. The setting sun is basking him in a lovely orange glow, he almost looks angelic.

“Thank you, I really didn’t mean to. Classes are just really stressful right now and I’m worried about Saturday.” He’s walking to the side benches to sit down, you following close behind him, “Ravenclaw is our biggest rival, that Jaemin kid is a machine.” You nod along as you take a seat, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Na Jaemin was only a third year student, but he was captain of the ravenclaw quidditch team. He was widely credited with bringing the team to the school finals last year, which wouldn’t really be wrong to say.

“I know, but you can’t just forget to take care of yourself.” You began passing him the food that you had frantically wrapped and shoved into your book bag when Yuta had left for the restroom, “You’re so busy being good at everything and taking care of everyone that you forget to take care of yourself.” He smiles at you, chest blossoming with warmth, and quickly pecks your lips.

“That’s what I have you for.” He takes a plate with a cluster of grapes and a bread roll from your hands, placing it next to himself on the wooden bench. The two of you are sitting so close that your knees are touching. (You always thought his touch was intoxicating, you’d started blaming his casual under the table touches in class on why you were bad at potions.)

“That’s not-” He kisses you again, cupping your face in his hands. You drop the bottle of butterbeer that you’re holding, melting into his kiss. You bring your hands to rest on his shoulders, allowing one to curl around the back of his neck. He’s still covered in a sheen of sweat, which would be gross if it was anyone else. But it’s not anyone else, it’s your sweet, hardworking, bull headed boyfriend, and you love him so overwhelmingly that it doesn’t even matter.

He pulls away, squishing your cheeks so that your lips puff out (you absolutely hate it when he does this, but he’s so precious that you let him anyways.)

“You’re the best secret girlfriend I’ve ever had.” He punctuates the sentence with a short peck to your puffed out lips. You snort with laughter while pulling your face from his hands.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only secret girlfriend you’ve had.” He smiles at you, playful and childlike.

“You’d be the best anyways.”

#taeyong fluff #the writing tag #nct 127 #adminreid #lee taeyong #kpop fanfic #regular-ity #fanfiction #nct fluff #fluff #taeyong is beautiful #hogwarts au #taeyong x reader #nct imagines #taeyong imagines

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 4 years

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Dragonology Miniseries (1) | Charlie Weasley x femHufflepuff!Reader

A/N: So I had a bunch of ideas for drabbles in this universe while I was writing the original series. The first two were supposed to be done before now, but life happens so please enjoy this fall aesthetic fic and know that a Christmas fic is hopefully on the way soon. If you want to be added to the Dragonology tag list let me know!

You can read the main series here.

DRAGONOLOGY FAQ

Late fall was quite possibly your favorite time of the year. Late fall meant candles, warm sweaters, hot tea, and cold weather cuddles with your impossibly handsome red-headed boyfriend.

You were in your sixth year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and though your studies were rigorous, you couldn’t be happier as you and Charlie sat shoulder to shoulder under a yellowing tree working on homework one Saturday afternoon.

“Can I just copy the end of your Charms essay?” he asked you, poking the feathery end of his quill into your ear. You brushed the quill away with a grin.

“No, you can’t. It’s only a foot and a half long essay, you’re almost done,” you reminded him as you glanced at his parchment.

“It’s just taking too long, if I copy yours I’ll be done faster. There are much better things I could be doing with my time than writing an essay on nonverbal spells,” he complained.

“What could possibly be more important than bettering our education?” your question was overly dramatic, and Charlie could tell. Sliding closer to you, he pressed a warm kiss to your cool cheek.

“We could go down to the forest and see what creatures are around,” he suggested with a grin, “unless you’re working on something more important.”

Your eyes fell to the parchment in front of you, covered in doodles of different dragon wing shapes.

“Lead the way,” you offered your hand to him, stuffing the parchment into one of your pockets and tucking your quill behind your ear. You walked the familiar path through the grounds towards the dark forest, taking the long way there in order to step on as many crunchy leaves as possible. Charlie’s hand was securely in yours the whole way.

When you reached the forest, you both started scanning the area for anything interesting. Charlie spotted the first creature, a bowtruckle tucked on a branch. After oogling over him for a while, you turned back to the forest. You saw some tell-tale signs that an animal was near, but you could not see the beast itself.

“Rumor has it there are unicorns in here,” Charlie said as you followed the trail deeper into the forest.

“Wouldn’t we have seen one by now if there were?”

“They’re pretty elusive, and there’s a lot of forest we haven’t explored. There could be all sorts of creatures here we haven’t found yet-”

“Like a dragon?” you cut him off playfully.

“Yes! It would be fantastic if we found a dragon,” Charlie exclaimed, sending the crows in the trees above you flying off in a hurry.

You laughed, shushing him as you made it to a clearing.

“I wonder if we’ll ever be able to see them,” Charlie said quietly, having procured an apple slice from his pocket which he held out to the emptiness. You watched as it moved, then disappeared with a huff. You held your own empty hand out, palm down, and waited until you felt flesh underneath it.

“As amazing as thestrals are, I hope we don’t ever see them. I don’t want to watch anybody die,” you pondered.

“There’s another trail here,” Charlie brought to your attention the broken twigs that led deeper into the forest. Leaving the thestrals, you followed the trail to another area where the trees thinned out. You made quiet eye contact with Charlie, in awe of the sight in front of you.

There were at least twenty hippogriffs in the area, some were basking in the sun, others laying in the grass. If they noticed you and Charlie, they paid you no mind. You perched on a nearby rock, pulling out the parchment and quill that you had stuffed in your pocket and starting a sketch of the beasts. Charlie sat on the ground in front of you, snacking on what was left of his apple and quietly observing.

When you finished your observations, you slid down the rock to join Charlie on the ground. You rested your head on his shoulder, peacefully watching the animals in front of you. When you woke up the sun was almost gone and the forest was mostly dark. The hippogriffs in front of you had all bedded down in the long grass, and Charlie was still next to you with his eyes closed.

“Charlie,” you hissed, elbowing him in the side.

“What?” he mumbled.

“We fell asleep, we have to go back to the castle,” you started standing up, brushing the dirt off of your pants and offering him your hand. He took it, pulling himself up against your weight. Intertwining his fingers with yours, Charlie lit his wand with a quiet “lumos” and started heading back towards the castle.

You weren’t frightened of being in the forest at night. Most of the creatures on this side of the forest knew who you were and that you wouldn’t hurt them. You were most concerned about being caught out of the castle after hours. You safely navigated back onto school grounds and were briskly making your way back to the illuminated castle when you saw a cat run across your path.

“Mrs. Norris,” you and Charlie groaned at the same time. The cat’s caretaker was not far behind her, and you knew there was no way you were getting off the hook.

“Students out of bed! Roaming the grounds at night! A prefect! Out of bed, must bring you to the headmaster…” Filch grumbled to himself as he ushered you back to the castle and up to Dumbledore’s office.

“Professor Dumbledore, these students were out on the grounds, coming from the forest no doubt.”

“Thank you, Argus,” Dumbledore looked up from his spot at his desk, “you can continue your business now, I’ll send them to bed when we’re finished.”

Filch sulked off, murmuring to himself about finding more students out of bed.

“Acid pop?” Dumbledore asked you and Charlie as you sat down in the chairs next to his desk. As you helped yourself to the candy, the older man spoke.

“I take it you were out exploring the Forbidden forest?”

“Yes Sir,” Charlie answered.

“Find anything interesting? Some of the best creatures are out in the afternoons.”

You pulled the parchment out of your pocket, sliding your sketches onto Dumbledore’s desk, “a herd of hippogriffs. They were beautiful; healthy looking too.”

“Ah, I met a very handsome hippogriff while I was at the Ministry once. These are wonderful drawings, (y/n). You two will make fine magizoologists when you’re done here at Hogwarts. Charlie, I’m sure you’ll see to it that (y/n) makes it back to the Hufflepuff common room safely?”

You and Charlie exchanged a glance.

“Of course, sir.”

“Well then, you best be on your way. While our nighttime chats are informative and I do love hearing what you two are discovering, let’s try not to chat about it so late at night, hm?”

Dumbledore’s office was filled with your quiet mumbles of “yes, Professor,” and “of course, Professor,” and “goodnight, Professor,” as you and Charlie rose and moved towards the door.

“That never goes how I think it’s going to,” Charlie mused once you were walking down the hall towards the Hufflepuff common room.

“He is a special old man, that’s for sure.”

You and Charlie walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way downstairs. When you got to the pile of barrels in the basement, Charlie pulled you in for a tight hug.

“See you in the morning?”

“Of course I will. I heard Slytherin has a new keeper who’s really talented,” you told him, looking up at his freckled face.

“I heard Gryffindor’s seeker is really talented, attractive too,” he quipped.

“Butterbeer on me if Gryffindor wins?” Charlie answered by pressing his lips to yours.

“You have yourself a deal.”

“Goodnight, Charlie,” you said, stepping away from him and tapping on a barrel to reveal the tunnel to your common room.

“Goodnight, (y/n),” he said with a wink. He watched you leave until the door was closed, then began his journey upstairs to Gryffindor tower.

You were not expecting to see anyone in the common room, so you were a bit surprised when you were confronted with someone rising from an armchair. However, when your eyes landed on their brightly colored hair you couldn’t keep yourself from sighing.

“You were out late,” Tonks said smugly.

“It was an accident, and then we got caught by Filch and then had to see Dumbledore,” you recounted, heading towards the door that led to your dormitory. Tonks followed you, her face set in determination.

“We?” You didn’t have to turn around to know your friend was wiggling her eyebrows.

“Who do you think?”

“Sneaking around after hours with Prefect Charlie Weasley. I didn’t know you had it in you to be naughty, (y/n).”

You rolled your eyes as you started getting dressed for bed.

“We were just out on the grounds and lost track of time, there was no sneaking involved,” you told her as you curled up in bed with your worn copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in hand.

“Don’t lie to me, (y/n), I know you were in the forest, where we’re not allowed to go.”

“How do you know?”

“You have leaves in your hair,” your roommate smirked from her bed across the room. Your hand flew to your head, combing through your locks until you found the small leaves she was talking about.

“I can’t believe Charlie didn’t tell me. I had a whole conversation with Dumbledore like this,” you were exasperated.

“Charlie probably thinks it’s hot or something,” Tonks laid back onto her pillows.

“He probably just didn’t notice. We tend to be outside together a lot, it’s not the first time I’ve had leaves in my hair,” you slid your book onto your nightstand, giving up any hope of reading.

“Are you going to the quidditch match tomorrow?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss a match Charlie’s playing in even if there was a dragon hanging out on the grounds.”

“Bullocks, even Charlie would miss a match he was supposed to be playing in if there was a dragon around. You two would be oogling over it.”

Tonks was right, and you knew it.

“Ok, ok, you’re right. Anyways, yes I’m going to be at the match tomorrow. Are you going to come with me?”

“As your date? Don’t tell Charlie, he might get jealous that our love is stronger than his,” she teased.

“Sure, you can be my date,” you rolled your eyes. You heard Tonks sigh happily from the other side of the room. For a moment she was quiet, and you knew exactly where her mind was.

“You’ll find a real date to go to quidditch matches with soon,” you said.

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re Tonks. When you know what you want you go and get it. You’re going to find someone who makes you stop and think for a second, and then you’re going to jump in with two feet like you always do. It’ll happen.”

“I just thought it might happen here, like it did with you and Charlie.”

“Charlie and I getting together was a fluke. There’s a whole world of people out there. The person you end up with could be ten years older than us, there’s no way of knowing until we’re really out there.”

“How are you so good at this?”

“Good at what?” Tonks paused for a moment, forming her words.

“Knowing what people need to hear and having everything all figured out.”

“Spend a lot of time observing, I guess. People aren’t much different than magical creatures.”

“If I were a magical creature I’d be a demiguise.” Tonks’ voice was soft in the darkness of the room.

“If I were a magical creature I’d be a-“

“A dragon, I know,” your roommate cut you off, “goodnight, (y/n).”

“Goodnight,” you sing-songed back to her, a sleepy grin tugging at your lips as you settled into your pillow.

Tags: @siriuslysirius1107

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley ff #charlie weasley fanfic #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic

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what-even-is-thiss · 7 years

Note

So I have this idea. Remember when the new sanders sides video didn't come out yet? Well, I saw some people talking about what houses they would be in and some of them said that Patton would be in Slythrin, now I was like "why would you put Patton in slythrin? He's not a bad guy!" but then I saw their explination and I was like woah... that makes alot of sense and I can't write it but like could you do a tiny ficabout how the other sides would react to Patton being chosen to be in Slythrin in p1

p 2 just like a little tiny fic that people do but like in a harry potter au?

Writing a fanfic in order to procrastinate writing another fanfic?

Yeah, that sounds like me.

No warnings I can think of. Let me know if I should add some. Forgive me for putting Virgil in a house. I’ve already written a fic about him being a squib and I wanna see our witch boy be a witch.

Tip Jar

1,791 words.

Quadruplets. The teachers heard there would be quadruplets. Those who had lived to see the Weasley twins actually lost sleep the weeks before the new school year as they thought about what horrors four identical wizards could unleash upon the castle.

The brothers were hardly thinking about school at all, which is why they had to practically be dragged to Diagon Alley.

“Now why don’t you all pick out a snack or something and I’ll be back? Don’t spend it all on something you won’t want later.”

They all watched their dad walk off, piles of parcels in hand.

“We tire him.” Virgil said, tucking his new wand into his boot.

“Impossible. We’re a delight.” Roman said, flicking a sickle in the air and catching it.

“You’re going to break your wand.” Logan huffed. “Why would you put it in your boot?”

“Ollivander said it’s unyielding. Doesn’t that stand for anything?” Virgil said.

Logan sighed with that sigh that meant what was about to say was just so obvious. “Honestly Virgil, do you really think that…”

“BIRDS!”

Virgil, Roman, and Logan jumped as Patton yelled and ran for the window display with owls in it. The argument was quickly forgotten before it even started.

“Yes Patton, those are birds.” Logan sighed, walking towards the shop.

“I’m gonna get one.” Patton said with determination.

“You nerds can look at birds.” Roman said. “Virgil and I are going to the broom shop.”

“Oh Roman I don’t wanna…”

Roman grabbed Virgil by the wrist and dragged him down the alley before he could protest any further.

“Roman, I want a cat!” Virgil exclaimed.

Logan and Patton shared a small smile and went into the pet store together.

After a good amount of convincing and diverting of attention, mostly on Patton’s part, all four of them left with a pet and a new broom and didn’t have to choose one or the other.

They all sat in their room. Virgil and Roman were tossing a quaffle back and forth between their beds while Logan read from his new spell book and Patton attempted to bond with his new barn owl.

“Why do I humor you again?” Virgil asked. “I don’t even like quittich.”

“No way!” Roman said, tossing the quaffle harder this time, “We’re going to be the stars of the Gryffindor team, I know it!”

“You don’t even know what house you’re in yet.” Logan said, taking a bite of apple and never looking up from his book.

“Yes I do. Virgil and I are going to be in Gryffindor while you go to Ravenclaw and Patton goes to Hufflepuff like dad did. It’s so obvious.”

“Well what if one of you went to Slytherin?” Logan said.

Roman caught the quaffle and then dropped it. “I have told you before, nobody in this family has ever been in Slytherin. That’s why I know Virgil is going to be with me.”

“With our luck we’re all going to end up in different houses.” Virgil said, folding his arms and falling into a sitting position.

“Oh of course not guys!” Patton said happily. “Hey you guys I think I’m gonna name her Honey.”

The attention turned to Patton, Logan, and Roman’s new owls and eventually escalated into Virgil having to keep his black cat from eating Roman’s.

“But why can’t I bring my broom?” Roman whined.

“Because first years can’t bring their own brooms, halfwit.” Logan said.

“Now play nice.” their dad said.

They all got hugs and kisses goodbye. Even Virgil, who looked like he wanted to puke.

“So how do I tell you apart?” The girl sharing their compartment asked.

“Logan and I wear glasses!” Patton said happily.

“Because we fell in a cursed well when we were five and became nearsighted.” Logan said, glaring at Roman.

“We were five! It was an accident! I’ve said I was sorry at least a hundred thousand times by now!” Roman said, throwing his hands in the air.

“Anyways,” Logan said angrily, “you can tell which one is Patton because he’s always happy.”

“And you can tell which one is Virgil because he’s always slouching.” Roman said.

Virgil glared. “And Roman is the one that’s full of himself.” he said.

“Who can tell that from how I look?” Roman asked.

“Oh, they can tell.” Logan said.

“Well I never…” Roman began.

“Hey! I got a Ginny Weasley card!” Patton said, holding the chocolate frog card up in the air.

“What? Let me see!” The girl cried out, launching herself across the compartment.

The trip across the lake was everything they dreamed it would be. All of them seemed nervous waiting for the hat except Roman.

“How can you not be nervous?” Virgil hissed. “They’re going to put you in front of everyone while a magic hat judges you.”

“Because I know which table is going to be cheering for me.” Roman said.

“Don’t jump to conclusions. Dad keeps telling you not to do that.” Logan scolded.

Logan was called up first. He was also the oldest quadruplet. They had been named in alphabetical order.

The hat covered his eyes and Logan stood there properly for almost three entire minutes before the hat yelled out a name.

“Gryffindor!” It called out.

Logan’s look of shock was identical to his brothers’ as the Gryffindors exploded into applause and he shakily made his way to the table.

Virgil and Roman shared a worried glance as Patton stepped up to the stool. Roman took his brother’s hand out of instinct and they both began to sweat up a storm. This wasn’t expected. What was even less expected was when the hat, after deliberating even longer than for Logan made its decision.

“Slytherin!” It yelled.

Roman nearly fell over. Virgil looked really scared. Patton looked over at his brothers and tried to smile, but it looked like he was going to be alone. they could tell he was upset. An outsider would think he was as happy as ever, but his brothers could tell. He wanted to cry.

Roman squeezed Virgil’s hand and feigned confidence as he marched up to the stool. The hat deliberated for about two minutes. Not nearly as long for the two older quadruplets, but still an uncommonly long time.

“Ravenclaw!” It finally said.

From the Gryffindor table Logan gave Roman a poisonous glare as he walked to the cheering Ravenclaw table in the middle of the room.

Virgil could barely move, he was shaking so badly. Normally he was the one that looked the most calm but now? He couldn’t even move. A professor, he forgot which one, gently guided him to the hat and he obediently sat down.

The hat deliberated. And it kept going. All Virgil heard in his head was “hmmm.” and variations thereof for over six minutes.

A hatstall. He just had to be a hatstall. It wasn’t even telling him what it was thinking about. He sat there, tears threatening to form in his eyes. He wasn’t going to be sorted. He was just going to sit here forever, or be expelled, or..

“Hufflepuff!”

The table in between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor erupted in cheering. Screaming and celebrating of every kind. They got a hatstall. Something that might only happen once every fifty years or more. A prefect from the Hufflepuff table came over and lifted Virgil on his shoulders and placed him right next to him at the table once he saw that the boy was too shocked to move.

“I… don’t belong here!” Virgil exclaimed.

“Nonsense. Of course you do.” the boy said, roughing up the younger student’s hair.

The four Sanders boys were uncharacteristically quiet that night.

Logan shuffled up to Gryffindor tower convinced he was going to hate it. He soon realized how wrong he was.

He wasn’t the only one there that liked reading, turned out, and the armchairs were at just the right angle to curl up with a textbook. Maybe… maybe he could become accustomed to this.

Roman walked the many flights of stairs unhappily and folded his arms tightly.

“What kills all things?” The knocker at the top of the staircase said.

“Time!” Roman called out. “Time!”

“That was quick. Well done.” The bird said before letting the students in.

The other Ravenclaws looked at their confident new classmate in awe. Hmmm. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Virgil looked around the common room near the kitchens and listened to the prefect brag that no non Hufflepuff had been inside there for a thousand years. Well, that couldn’t possibly be true. And if it was the streak would have to be broken. Patton was gonna love this place.

Patton loved this place. The chill of the common room was so lovely, and that was… was that the giant squid? Oh my, yes. Look at all these calming green colors. What did Roman have against this place again?

The next morning at breakfast all of them got a package. Virgil got his dad’s old black and yellow scarf. Roman and Logan got house hats from family friends, and Patton got a brand new pin to put on his backpack with a note attached that read:

“Patton, I always suspected you were a Slytherin. You are so good at keeping the others out of trouble I hardly have to do anything. I’m not worried. You’re the first Slytherin in the family and I am so proud! I can’t wait to tell everyone about it. Keep keeping them out of trouble for me. -Dad”

Patton would keep that note near him for the rest of his life. He always knew where it was, even when he did fail to keep the others out of trouble.

A paper airplane flew across the room and hit him in the head. He unfolded it and read the note inside.

“Hey snake face, meet us by the kitchens. Verge says he has something to show us.”

He was really going to have to talk to Roman about his nicknames.

After classes were over they all sat on tables in the kitchens while the house elves worked around them.

“So you’re not angry?” Patton asked as he sipped on Pumpkin juice.

“If any of you should be angry at someone it should be me.” Virgil said. “I got dad’s old scarf. I think we always thought Patton would get it.”

“Well the only person I’m mad at is Roman, but that’s probably unjustified.” Logan said.

“Probably?” Roman asked. “And I’m not mad. I probably shouldn’t have said so many things about Slytherin.”

“That’s okay.” Patton said.

“Are we even allowed to be here?” Logan asked.

“Not technically” the other three said in unison.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin.” Logan mumbled.

#roman wrote a thing #roman made a gif #hogwarts au #sanders sides au #sanders sides #thomas sanders #patton sanders #morality sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #prince sanders #roman sanders #logic sanders #logan sanders #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic

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kittenears11 · 6 years

Text

stuff for me

Faceless (serial murderer, paranoid, quirk: No face, hole for a face, pocket dimension) The pale woman felt around inside the dark hole where her face should be, tugging things out. "That's not it...nope...nope...no-aw jeeze!" She tugged out a handgun and winced as it went off. "When did I put this in here?! Where is my knife??"

The faceless woman sat on the edge of the roof, playing with a barber's razor. "These are my friends...see how they glisten?" She raised it to the moon light. "See this one shine? How he smiles...in the light! My friend...my faithful friend..." she held it close, sighing happily. "Speak to me friend...whisper..." she held it to her ear. "I'll listen..." she nodded. "I know, I know! You've been locked out of sight all these years...like me my friend!"

Puff (Student, quirk: Pufferfish, looks like a puffer fish and can inflate cheeks)

Bitch (villain, media calls her miss canine, quirk: Wild mutt, sharp claws and teeth) The filthy, matted haired girl sat in the gutter, jingling her handcuffs as she punched at the pavement, carving her knuckles open. Her scarred face had been forced into a dog's muzzle and someone had filled it with peanut butter to keep her from tugging her way out of it. "This isn't gonna placate Bitch forever! The second Bitch gets out Bitch's gonna...Bitch's gonna...numnumnumnum...Bitch likes peanut bubbers"

The pale woman moved silently as she walked, her heels, which should have been making a soft 'click, click, click' each time they hit the floor, failed to so as she walked up behind him and sniffed at his neck. "...Thirsty"

The filthy, matted haired woman sat in front of the door, screeching loudly.

Kismet (Pro hero, addicted to her quirk, quirk: illusion, conjures smoke that causes hallucinations) The lingerie wearing hero sat on a park bench, crossed one leg over the other and sighed heavily. She raised her hands and allowed a black smoke to seep out of her skin, it settled for a moment before inhaling it, her eyes fluttering shut and her head falling back, a moan of ecstasy leaving her plump lips. "Oooh~ That's good..."

The pale hairless creature peered at them from the corner, bulbous black eyes shining hungrily.

Humming Bird (Student, aspiring singer quirk: Mocking Bird, can copy voices and voice quirks) Humming bird sat in the cafeteria, singing along to the music that left her headphones as she ignored the tray of food beside her. "The boys who kiss and bite, they are the brilliant ones, who speak and write with silver luck." She tapped her pencil against the blank sheet of paper in front of her, lacking inspiration at the moment. "They sing in clever tongues, oh, how my knees go weak to be the one, she kicks and bucks!"

Humming bird sat in the cafeteria, singing along to the music that left her headphones as she ignored the tray of food beside her. "I deserve to be alright...I deserve to sleep at night." She tapped her pencil against the blank sheet of paper in front of her, lacking inspiration at the moment. "I'm my closest friend, I remind myself again, better treat her well cause she's with me to the end..."

The young woman sat atop a pile of junk, her dull green eyes staring down at them. "Circus Monster does't like strangers." The floor started to shake as the junk pile rustled and slowly rose, taking the shape of a large lion made of junk. It roared, voice like radio static.

A Stone Pebblit The small rock monster waddled about, trying to find a soft patch of dirt to burrow into and pretend.

the single horned, pig looking woman sat in front of a fire, watching a hunk of meat roast on a spit. "....Meats"

The Red Queen (Villain, quirk: Off With Her Head, can dismember herself easily) The nude, crowned woman stood in front of them, a gleeful smile on her lips. "Do what you will to me, peasant, I assure you I've done far worse" With a sharp tug, she tore her arm from it's socket, blood shooting from the wound before she shoved it back in like nothing happened.

The nude, crowned woman stood in front of them, a gleeful smile on her lips. "Do what you will to me, peasant, I assure you I've done far worse" With a sharp tug, she tore her head off her shoulders, cackling happily as it floated in place.

"You wouldn't hit a woman!" the vainly dressed woman cried. "Especially not if she'd fall to pieces over it!" her head dropped off and started to laugh once it hit the ground.

http://www.shamchat.com/e5b6345b/

Princess (Student, brat, quirk: Demon, the angrier she gets the more demonic she becomes) Princess was new in school, having been dropped in after her parents had finally been caught and jailed. Her parents were villains This spoke volumes as to why she was so quick to anger and why her quirk was so...violent. This usually meant other students kept out of her way, but sometimes that was hard to do, especially during the rush to class. Princess took up most of the space in the corridor, twice the size she usually was and a deep red in color. "PRINCESS DOES NOT LIKE BEING SHOVED!" She starts pushing kids out of the way, slamming them against lockers.

The spider legged girl froze in the hallway, staring at them with large terrified eyes. "..." she starts running up the wall. "DON'T CRUSH"

The small vain creature buzzed around his head, giving his hair an irritating tug every few seconds.

The small tree-like creature waddled out from under a bed. "...Mr Hero didn't...didn't find me....yahaha" it began to cry.

The small tree baby waddled about, tripping every few steps. "Ya ha ha!" It grabbed their leg. "Me found you!"

The creature, which was most certainly NOT a student who learnt how to become an animagus, held a book in its mouth, waving it about happily.

The humanoid equine peered out of the forest, her green eyes bright and curious. "...Human boys..."

The woman sat still, watching her humanoid stand coil its fingers around her hand, closing up the gashes she'd managed to give herself while breaking in to the hotel room. "Next time we're paying, or getting that DIO fuck to pay, honestly..."

The limping horsewoman stumbled into view and paused, her tail swishing side to side. "...."

(let me know if you're reading?) The seventh year Hufflepuff tapped her wand irritatingly against the rim of her empty cauldron with one hand while the other played with her tangled brown hair, curling it around her fingers. Despite being in N.E.W.T level potions and being rather good at them, some would say a prodigy, before seeing her like this and retracting that statement, it was incredibly difficult to get Emily Bolsey interested in class when she wasn't in the mood. A wide variety of things ruined her desire to participate in class, such as, what they were learning, how cold the dungeons were that day and even the amount of sleep she managed to get the night before. Currently, she wasn't in the mood and opted to annoy her classmates and teacher as a way to protest the boring lesson, the cold dungeon and the fact that the girls she shared a dormitory with had cats that wouldn't be quiet at night. Her murky green eyes stared off into space, leaving her unaware of the death glares being sent her way, not only by the teacher, but by the other students as well. (OC: Emily Bolsey, muggleborn, 5ft, husky figured, 5th year hufflepuff. Has ASD, gifted in potions but hates doing the work as she isn't fond of being told what to do or doing things she believes to be beneath her skill level. Often hunts down magical pests to test her homemade potions on, leaving her hands covered in injuries. Preferred character would be Snape, if that's okay.)

(let me know if you're reading?) "Mr Filch." Spoke a soft voice behind him. The light of the caretakers lantern revealed the chubby form of a hufflepuff girl in a white nightie, ready for sleep but not in her bed. During the night, Emily Bolsey crept out of her dormitory with one mission in mind, find the schools caretaker and ask him a question. "You're a squib, aren't you?" it was inappropriate, she had no right to know and if the caretaker got his way she'd probably end up chained to a wall by her thumbs as punishment, but she had to ask. There was ample clues to this being true, his lack of a wand, he uses muggle means to clean a castle this large and the way he detests every student, clearly because they can do the thing he can't... She sort of understood where he was coming from, being muggle born, when her magic surfaced it acted like a pair of scissors, cutting the link she had with her parents and friends, she wasn't like them, she was never going to be like them...knowing that hurt a great deal. (OC: Emily Bolsey, muggleborn, 5ft, husky figured, 5th year hufflepuff. Has ASD, gifted in potions but hates doing the work as she isn't fond of being told what to do or doing things she believes to be beneath her skill level. Often hunts down magical pests to test her homemade potions on, leaving her hands covered in injuries. Preferred character would be filch, if that's okay.)

(let me know if you're reading?) The quiet hufflepuff sat in the hufflepuff common room, warming herself by the fire as she read the heart shaped note for the hundredth time. It wasn't often when Emily got notes, especially not ones as nice as this, and never under her pillow in the middle of the night and it now left her contemplating on who it was that gave her the love note, most likely another hufflepuff...unless it was a ghost? but they can't touch things, how would they be able to write a note like this, let alone place it under her pillow? Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar cackle, the noise high pitched and grating, followed by a few handfuls of notes being dumped on her, all of them covered in insults written in the same cursive as the love note. Her lips tugged into a scowl. "Peeves!" her aggravated screech was simply met with more laughter. (OC: Emily Bolsey, muggleborn, 5ft, husky figured, 5th year hufflepuff. Has ASD, gifted in potions but hates doing the work as she isn't fond of being told what to do or doing things she believes to be beneath her skill level. Often hunts down magical pests to test her homemade potions on, leaving her hands covered in injuries. Preferred character would be Peeves, if that's okay.)

(let me know if you're reading?) The hufflepuff rapped her knuckles against the door of the ground keeper's hut, she was having some difficulty with the homework he assigned, due to the fact that her school book refused to function as it should, she didn't know what to do about it and she didn't want to risk her fingers any more then she already had. Her knocking became more frantic as her Monster book of Monsters threatened to chew its way out of the sack she jammed it in. With her knocking, a scab on her knuckle opened up and began to seep red, making her wince and drop her hand. "Professor! I know you're home, I can hear Fang!" As if on cue the boar hound let out a loud bark. (OC: Emily Bolsey, muggleborn, 5ft, husky figured, 5th year hufflepuff. Has ASD, gifted in potions but hates doing the work as she isn't fond of being told what to do or doing things she believes to be beneath her skill level. Often hunts down magical pests to test her homemade potions on, leaving her hands covered in injuries. SRP is fine, and preferred character would be Hagrid, if that's okay.)

The horse woman laid on the floor, her front leg twisted awkwardly. "Now I must lay here and get body sores and pneumonia..."

She sat in the hallway, blowing into the instrument. "I found this on the floor!" Floot "It was kinda dirty" Floot "I picked it up!" Floot "And I blew into it!" FLOOOOOT.

Succubus (villain, always puking, quirk: Sick up line, contact with her vomit controls minds) The slug-like woman laid in her bathtub in a tiled room, the previously white room stained yellow from age and stomach fluids. She was constantly surrounded by her yellowish bile and spent her time shoveling food into her mouth. Her daily routine was interrupted by the door opening. "Who are /you/?"

Morning light seeped in through the thin motel curtains, somewhat illuminating the dingy room the pair spent the night in. With a groan the chubby woman beside him sat up and rubbed her eyes. "What the fuck...?"

A high pitched scream is heard as she falls out of the sky and lands. "...GOD DAMN IT!" she sat up, perfectly fine.

"So like, then he wanted me to touch his dink" she laid down on the couch, painting her nails with a red liquid that had a coppery smell. "And I was all 'lol okay' and then the fucker says i'm doing it wrong, like, what the fuck?"

Floating through the sewer was what looked like a bloated corpse, but if you dared to look closer you would see the opening and closing of gills and the careful swaying of a strong, garbage covered tail. She was covered in smaller tails, all of which belonged to her boyfriends, who bit into her, dissolved their faces and became little more than glorified testicles.

Akemi sat in her wheel chair, staring out the window as she played with her pachimari plush, tugging on a poorly stitched together tentacle.

The crunching of bone and the tearing of flesh echo through the cave as the spider-like being tore through the crotch of a dead woman, hungrily munching on the flesh as it made its way to the womb and its pedipalps clasped around the head of the deceased infant and tore it out, its jagged teeth ready to tear into it before light at the mouth of its cave caught its attention and made it drop the carcass. "Who there? Need help with birth? Can help!"

#writing #my writings

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hogwartswelcomesyou · 7 years

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The Mods Describe Common Rooms

Ravenclaw (By Abigail)

always music playing, a different member of ravenclaw chooses the music every day, varies from classical, to indie pop, to rock, to well, whatever that person wants to listen to

super duper cozy, literally a billion quilts, a bunch of pillows, and beds/study zones perfectly made for each person

huge windows on different walls, Ravenclaws spend so much time studying, or well not studying that sometimes it’s hard to get out, this helps, Of course though, there is a huge telescope for night time, like a huge telescope

there’s an enchanted dumbwaiter that can bring thing’s up from the kitchens, mostly snack foods, and things you can eat while doing other things and not make a mess

depending on when you get there, if you fall asleep in the common room, the head girl or boy, or well anyone who decides to wake you up will help you back to your room

one wall is literally a huge book shelf, people leave a book for every year they go to school there and leave there favorite book of the year there, theres copies of some super old books that have been there for over eighty years, the first book there was Romeo and Juliet, the pages are a little tatered at the tops and bottoms, but other than that its good as new

shoes are totally not required, but theres millions of pairs of slippers in a bucket if you want them

The room is enchanted to sense what the claws are feeling and flows smells that will calm them down, or make them happy

plastic stars and planets are stuck to the ceiling everywhere

there are two walls devoted completely to art, on the area beside the wall, theres a huge raised up thing filled with paint, paint brushes, pastels, crayons, sharpies and anything else they need. They started with only one art wall, but that quickly changed when the first wall was covered in the week, every month they repaint the wall so they can start over.

Hufflepuff (By Jinxy and Star)

Fireplaces on every wall, all constantly stocked, stoked, and cosy, all with plenty of pot plants with flowers, succulents and a few herbs. The fireplaces have plants climbing up the sides and making a nice covering for the front.

Wide windows, with the sun permanently pouring in (even in winter), except at night, when the stars give off a yellow glow and it lights up the room.

Scented candles everywhere: caramel, chocolate, and popcorn scented to make the room smell sweet.

Trapdoor to the kitchens, so students don’t get caught out of bed after dark.

Couches have piles of fluffy blankets next to them, and tables all around the common room are covered in hot chocolate.

Hardwood floors, with sunflower pattern rugs dotted throughout the common room (which occasionally bloom real sunflowers!)

Birds always chirping in the background.

Lots of cats lying in the sunspots on the floor, or curled up on the couches under the blanket piles. Whenever students from other houses lose their cats, they're always in the Hufflepuff common room.

Milk bowls and lots of food on the floor for the cats.

Students’ essays framed around the rooms if they got the highest score, so students can get inspo, and so that other students can admire the work (and feel proud of beating the Ravenclaws, because of the silly rivalry).

At Christmas time, one of the prefects always puts up an elf on the shelf, but it moves by itself, does all sorts of silly things, and winks at you. Students add gold tinsel to the fireplaces, and plenty of big colourful bows.

At Easter, bunnies roam the room, and love getting cuddles and letting students’ smush their faces. One prefect every year is assigned to do an Easter theme activity with the students, be it egg hunting, bunny face painting, painting new curtains, or truffle making, and the room adjusts and provides what the students need.

Big cheery curtains framing the windows (white lace, that’s been hand painted with yellow prints or flowers). They're always drawn apart to let the light in, but can be closed as needed.

There’s a humongous bookshelf (because Ravenclaws aren't the only ones who are allowed to read) where students share books. All of the covers are worn and bent, but it's okay because everyone gets a chance to enjoy the books that others love. Some have highlighting in them, mustaches on the pictures on the front and love letters to other students in them. There’s textbooks for if you couldn’t afford one that year, muggle books about foreign countries, books in other languages, and muggle books about what they think wizards are, and students have graffiti all over them, as a protest. There's a surprising lack of cookbooks. Because, despite common thought, Hufflepuffs aren't always the best cooks, and the kitchens are close anyway.

There’s a giant hand painted portrait of Helga Hufflepuff on the far wall, which students have enchanted to host Helga, so she gives advice, welcomes new students with a song at the start of the year, and tells students to go to bed.

Bathrooms all have large luxurious baths, where the whole person can fit, and no need for bubble bath or scents, because it fills automatically with it when a student presses a button. Each student has customized shampoo, conditioner and products made by older potions students to keep their hair and skin healthy and glowy. Each student gets an ‘appointment’, and the older student makes up bottles that only that student can open, with constant refills.

Privacy curtains that students can choose to pull or not, and all have yellow flower patterns on them.

Warm fluffy towels, in the students’ favourite colour, with their name embroidered on it. Always warmed up, and fresh every time.

Students’ beds have multiple covers on it, and unlimited pillows, and teddies galore. There’s a basket at the end of the bed for dirty laundry, returned clean within 6 hours, and folded. Each student gets a nice window at the head of their bead with their favourite flowers growing there, and most students choose lavender to help them sleep at night. Curtains can only be drawn on weekends and until certain times on weekdays, so students can sleep in, but pull open at 7:30 to wake up students naturally and without alarm clocks.

Bedside tables for each student, and students can choose 15 knick-knacks from home to remind them of home, and each student automatically gets a moving image of their families back home.

No mirrors (except in bathrooms), because students will tell each other when they have their uniform askew or their hair is messy. Uniforms hung at the ends of beds so students can sleep in and not need to find their clothes.

Slytherin (By Tory)

Knick-knacks galore on the bookcases and mantels, each with a special story. Like that shattered crystal ball? That was smuggled out of Professor Trelawney’s class one day by a Slytherin student as a joke, but after the theft, he and others swore it could predict test answers. (It broke when some particularly stupid student tried to smuggle it under his desk for his OWLs, but thankfully a Slytherin prefect retrieved it and put it back.) That old music box? Brought in by a Muggle-born student in the 19th century and soon enchanted her classmates to the extent that they got used to hearing it play every night before they fell asleep. When she left the school, she decided to leave it behind for the younger classes as a memento, enchanting it with a Self-Repairing Charm so that it would never break no matter how many times it was played. That skull? Found buried under the tree by the lake by a Slytherin student...alas, no one knows who it belongs to, but the students have taken to calling her Salazara and treat her with utmost respect.

Slytherin students frequently wave to the merpeople swimming outside their windows. The merpeople don’t really understand what waving means, but sort of shake their hands back and forth in response in an attempt to be friendly.

Their bathrooms are classy, elegant, and off-the-hook. Each student would have access to their own special area made up of a shower/bath and a changing area with several mirrors behind a curtain. That way each student would have complete privacy getting ready before anyone else saw them -- no sharing mirrors or sinks here. Each stall would also be equipped with old-fashioned fixtures that offer both fresh and salt water baths, as well as bubble baths!

There is a baby grand piano set up in the corner. If no one plays it, it plays itself.

There are all sorts of trapdoors and secret compartments hidden in each dorm, perfect for hiding personal items or even just escaping from your dormmates. Most Slytherins haven’t found them all, and if they are in use, the handle goes red hot, so as to deter any stranger who might want to disturb the person using it or their belongings.

WINDOW SEATS. SO MANY WINDOW SEATS. Also a few chaise longues.

Lots of portraits of old witches and wizards litter the walls, and they always love giving career advice.

The fireplace actually is part of a revolving wall. If you push a certain brick on the mantle, it spins around and reveals a secret passage that leads to the kitchens.

The huge grandfather clock in the main common room tolls the hour to the tune of “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts.”

Because it’s very hard for owls to get down to the dungeons, they are trained to drop their mail down a chute in the Owlery that magically drops the mail down into a collection tray in the center of the Slytherin common room. A separate collection tray then spits any outgoing mail up to the next available owl, if the student doesn’t care which owl sends it.

Gryffindor (by Boudica)

The Gryffindor common room...what can be said about this wonder of gold and scarlet?

That cork board in the corner is the bravery board. It plays host to a number of everyday moments of bravery

Volunteering in class because you’re afraid of public speaking.

Asking out that cute Slytherin in potions; it’s up there.

Every day victories that make life worth wild are praised on that board

The chairs in the common room are both capable of heating and icing. The house charmed them years ago. Every year the house team renews the spells.

On more than one occasion, the Gryffindor Quidditch team has commandeered the chairs, their groans filling the air as the chairs soothed their aching muscles

There’s a set of enchanted free weights that allow you to work out without a partner.

Doing a chest press only to drop it from fatigue will elevate it above your chest as long as you’re a certain body temperature.

That box next the fire holds an enchanted dueling mat.

When removed from the box it begins expanding into a cushioned dueling deck.

This allows most Gryffindor to practice dueling in a safe environment without to much harm......most of the time.

This is accentuated by the shoot down to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfry has enchanted the door to play achy breaky heart when it’s accessed. That way she can catch the poor darling.

#the houses four #ravenclaw pride #hufflepuff pride #slytherin pride #gryffindor pride #abigail speaks #jinxy speaks #star speaks #tory speaks #boudica speaks #the houses queue

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wind-in-the-weirwoods · 7 years

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Hogsmeade, Chapter 1

A/N: hello friends I got inspired to write the Harry Potter AU I didn’t know I wanted. I haven’t thought this out too much so brace for some errors. because it’s my AU, Harry is of Indian descent and Hermione is Black (she hasn’t appeared in this chapter, but may show up later. we’ll see. mainly I want to make that very clear right now)

idk how long this is gonna be bc I’m just flying along while I’ve got the energy to put these ideas into writing, so please just enjoy it for whatever it turns out to be

thanks for reading!

Jon Snow looked out at the Forbidden Forest and sighed. The Owlery was Hogwarts’ highest point, and one of his favorites. He could see for kilometers from up there, the forest spread out before him. He knew all the landmarks – the lake, the groundskeeper’s hut, the fierce old Willow – but his sight was drawn to what lay beyond. Smoke rose invitingly from the chimneys of Hogsmeade far off in the distance.

Jon sighed again and looked away, bending to draw a stiff-haired brush from its bucket of steaming water. He lifted his wand and paused, then put it back in its place at his belt. He adjusted the thick yellow-and-black scarf at his neck and brooded.

Lord Stark’s advice had been clear: working hard was good for one’s character. Cleaning the Owlery with magic would have been the smart thing to do, but sometimes Jon needed to work with his hands and feel it in his back.

He set to scrubbing. His fifth year had been a whirlwind so far, stuffed to the gills with difficult coursework and responsibilities as one of his House’s leading lads. His favorite outlet for expressing frustration, Quidditch, had even eluded him thanks to Gryffindor’s new seeker; the talented second-year was coming into his own and had dealt Hufflepuff a heartbreaking defeat.

Jon, a beater, had sat helplessly and watched as the Potter boy outraced their own seeker in pursuit of the snitch. The thin lad was even nearly as good at scowling from a balcony as Jon was; they had passed each other on the castle walls as Jon was ascending, the bespectacled Indian having likely sent off a letter by owl-post. Jon couldn’t escape him.

So here he was now, angsting in the turrets of the Owlery with a bucket of soap.

His best friend Sam had promised to help later after he was finished tutoring first-years for the day.

“Honestly, Jon, why go through the trouble?” Sam had questioned while seated in the common room hours before. He had leaned in from the armchair he slouched, and whispered, “Do you not remember the automation charm? I can go over it with you again.”

Jon’s cheeks burned. “I know how to do it. It’s just something I’ve got to do.”

Sam shrugged and reached for a thick book. “If you say so. Still,” he licked his finger and turned quickly through the pages, “all those stairs, all that scrubbing. There’s better uses for your time.”

At that Jon had stood up and muttered something impolite. He turned and stalked away.

Sam sniffed placidly and began to read. “It’s your time.”

Jon had cleaned the first three rows in the Owlery and just started the third when he heard soft footsteps approaching. His shoulders rose and fell before he turned, wind whipping the dark curls framing his face into a frenzy.

He had started to speak but his voice caught in his throat and his thoughts froze. Sansa Stark approached, dark robes clutched tightly against the wind. The witch’s eyes darted from the foamy brush in Jon’s hand to his unruly hair, then settled inquisitively on his face.

They knew each other, though not well. Sansa’s younger sister Arya had joked that Jon was their American cousin, though that wasn’t quite right. Jon’s father, some Muggle businessman in New York, had never acknowledged him before his mother’s death so he had been adopted by her distant family back in Edinburgh as a young boy.

Jon’s potential for magic had emerged not long after, quelling any fears that he may have been born a Squib. Lord Ned Stark, a prominent voice in the Ministry of Magic, had raised Jon as his own. That met with varying success in the family: Sansa’s brother Robb embraced Jon unquestioningly, as did her other siblings. But she took after her cold mother Cat and had always given Jon a wide berth. He had silently preferred it to outright distaste.

“Hello,” Sansa greeted cautiously.

Jon replied too quickly, cutting her off. “Hey. Why are you up here?”

The tall girl collected her thoughts. “I was looking for you. Sam Tarly said you would be moping up here.”

Jon seethed. “Well, he’s right.”

Sansa had not yet moved from her spot atop the stairs, but she raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jon aside. The gesture seemed owlish to him. “Why?

“It’s something your lord father always said,” Jon answered slowly, dropping the brush into the bucket and shaking his hands dry. He crossed the room and knelt to collect some of the dried straw, tossing the rubbish into a sack.

“I know what he said about working hard,” Sansa replied coolly, following Jon as he cleaned. “But why this?”

He paused before speaking. “When I was in my second year, old Professor Aemon caught Sam and me in some mischief or another. He had us help him clean the Owlery twice a month for detention.” Jon lifted a hand, index and middle fingers outstretched. “It still needs cleaning, and I need something to keep myself busy. So two birds, one stone, you know?” He closed his fist for emphasis, but had to brush his long hair away. It was beginning to annoy him.

Sansa digested that for a moment and waved towards the stairs. “Well, could you step out with me? It’s dirty in here.” The wind howled and her brow furrowed. “And it’s loud.”

“I’ve been cleaning,” Jon protested, but she took him by the wrist and stepped down into the staircase, protected from the northern winds.

Safe from the elements, Sansa faced Jon with an inscrutable expression. “We’re going to Hogsmeade this Saturday.”

Jon blinked in surprise. “You and Margaery?” The Tyrell heiress was nearly inseparable from Sansa, the politician’s daughter, especially in public. Even if Slytherin prefects did not usually escort Ravenclaws to and from their classes, chattering happily all the while.

That got Sansa to drop her façade. She rolled her eyes and exhaled deeply. “Hardly. She is going with Robb. And you’re going with me.”

“She’s with Robb?” That was newsworthy, at the least. How hadn’t he told Jon?

Sansa was tentative, but the exasperation never left her voice. “Well, not with him. But I’ve seen the way she looks at him. Now they’ve gotten a date, and I suppose it’s only a matter of time.”

Jon leaned against the mortared wall. He hadn’t realized how tired he’d gotten, having spent most of the morning in the Owlery. What time was it?

Sansa looked at him strangely. Almost nervously, but that couldn’t be right? It occurred to Jon suddenly that he’d gone longer than was appropriate without responding to her.

“Right, then, so Margaery’s going to Hogsmeade with Robb. And we’re going too?”

Relief flashed across Sansa’s face so quickly Jon doubted if it truly had. She spoke confidently in a rush: “We are. I’ve already reserved the carriage and ordered breakfast for the ride into the village, we’ll have more time to shop that way.”

Jon’s voice was apprehensive. “Who is ‘we’? Arya and Bran can’t go yet, they’re just in their second year.”

Sansa’s lips were set in a firm line and Jon tried not to pay them much attention. “We are,” frustration edged in as she stressed the first word, “you and I. The day passes are addressed to Sansa and Jon.”

Jon blinked. “That’s,” he searched for a word, lost, “that’s specific.”

“Yes,” Sansa said through gritted teeth, “so you’ll be ready?”

“Um,” Jon replied.

“We’ll just be doing some shopping,” Sansa explained soothingly, “and some eating, we can find lunch in the village. And maybe some drinking.” Her eyes sparkled and Jon failed to look away.

Jon was still stammering. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Sansa stared at him hard, blue eyes intense. “It sounds nice,” she answered flatly.

Jon’s mind was racing now. “It really does,” he insisted, “I need to do some shopping anyway. I’m out of yarn, and this scarf has been fraying,” he tugged at it helpfully to display the loose ends.

“You knit?” Her voice fell to a bizarre tone of confused approval.

“I do, Gilly taught me some years ago. It’s taken me time, but it’s not so hard once you get into rhythm…”

“I know how to knit, Jon.” Sansa shook her head slowly. “I don’t know that you know anything. I’ll see you Saturday morning, and remember not to worry about breakfast.”

She spun and descended the stairs, leaving Jon shaken and alone with his bucket. “What just happened?”

Sansa sat at Ravenclaw’s House table in the Great Hall, absentmindedly listening to her friends Jeyne, Sheila, and Mya argue about something or another. She reached for a lemon-crusted scone when it was intercepted by a green-jeweled hand.

“Hello, best friend!” Margaery slipped into the vacant seat beside Sansa and offered her the pastry. “Really, love, you’ll turn into a lemon if you eat them everyday.”

Sansa snatched it away wordlessly and took a bite. Margaery laughed and playfully nudged her shoulder. “Don’t be so sour,” she warned lightheartedly.

Slytherin’s favorite daughter sitting at the Ravenclaw table had drawn attention in the past, but Margaery’s continued pushing on that boundary had lessened its impact. Now even her most jaded critics suspected she genuinely liked the Stark girl.

“If you want sweetness,” Sansa said, then paused to placidly sip her pumpkin juice, “you should see my brother Robb.”

Margaery’s eyes nearly sparkled. “And why would he be so sweet to me?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Sansa said while staring hard at her dinner plate.

Margaery tapped a nail thoughtfully against the wood table. “He’s sweet to my eyes, sure. But he’s interested?”

“Of course he is,” Sansa answered, forcing herself not to answer so quickly, “why would I bring it up if he wasn’t?”

The hazel-eyed girl nodded, counting off each point against her fingers. “Slytherin and Gryffindor. Two prefects of opposing Houses. A year’s gap in ages. It has the makings of something scandalous.”

Troubled, Sansa turned and looked Margaery eye-to-eye. “Not that you’re seeking to start a scandal.”

“Of course not,” Margaery replied softly, placing a comforting hand on Sansa’s, “I just have to be aware of these things, given our families’ standing. Of course you understand.”

She knew that all too well. “Of course,” Sansa agreed, “but you really should speak with him. He’s free this Saturday.”

Something playful danced across Margaery’s expression. “Why isn’t he telling me this himself?”

That was because Sansa had coerced Robb into cooperation, threatening to tell their mother why he had really stayed at school for Christmas holiday during his fourth year. Things hadn’t worked out between him and Alys, but Robb still didn’t want those details reaching home.

“He wanted me to test the waters,” Sansa lied helpfully. In truth, Robb wasn’t at all opposed to Margaery’s affections. She was as pleasant as anyone could be, much less a Slytherin, though he didn’t know as much of her as he would have liked before agreeing to distract her for a day.

Sansa could dispatch Sheila and Jeyne easily enough, and Mya was quick to take a hint. But Margaery had been a more-difficult nut to crack, and Sansa found herself elated at the scheme working out.

“I’ll have to call on him, then,” Margaery said sweetly. She stood and stepped lightly away, gracefully navigating the crowd of dining students.

Sansa took another bite of the lemon scone and savored it. This contrived trip to Hogsmeade may work out for them all after all. But her goals were lower than most – not that she dismissed the difficulty of it. If she could get the dour Jon Snow to smile just once, all this scheming would be worth it.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #jon snow x sansa stark #harry potter au #hogsmeade fic #my writing #jonsa fic #jonsa fanfic #jonsa fanfiction

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teavious · 7 years

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my kingdom for your grace; pt. 1

fandom: les miserables ; hogwarts AU.

pairings: grantaire/musichetta (platonic)

summary: hogwarts au. the history of a friendship between a fiery gryffindor and an amazing hufflepuff; more ships & content to come. (also on AO3)

Hufflepuff always feels like home; it comes naturally with hauling his childhood best friend after him to a magical school because all the crazy shit they did together finally has an explanation, with sharing a dorm with other boys that are just as nervous as he is to make friends in the friendliest house.

Grantaire’s never been exactly friendly, even when he was 9. And still, Bahorel continued to scream at him, only to hug him later on; and still, another weird duo stuck to his side; and he learnt to think of them, in time, as his golden, 3 parts of the year family.

He meets Musichetta in his first year: all proud to have red around her throat, bearing her own teeth as a lioness the first time he approaches her.

She’s eating at her own table, legs on each side of her bench, and a stained textbook is open in front of her. She’s frowning, though the cause isn’t quite clear, and yet Grantaire decides to rid her of at least one possible one. In the middle of the night, shivering in his pajamas, Musichetta’s own curls hidden under a knitted hat, he shows her the entrance to the kitchen and watches, transfixed, how she savors each and every bite, how she shows a smile that’s missing one last teeth once she’s done, presenting him a sticky hand and saying out loud her own name. Afterwards, it sorts of spirals out of his control.

She shoves notes written in the ugliest font ever for the classes in which he’s struggling, and they breed potions in abandoned broom cupboards, though the results are usually unpleasant and the attempts end in laughter and elbows knocking against each other as they hurry to erase any sign before the night time patrol. They feed the stray cats left behind by ruthless students, and queue to see Professor Neville and his plants; the greenery a calming place. Grantaire likes the cacti (because he’s a prick) and Musichetta just likes the smell of humid soil and the feel of mud between her fingers when they walk barefoot through rows of magical plants (because she’s a mess). When they meet randomly on the halls, they wave enthusiastically at each other, Grantaire with Bahorel and Joly at his side, Musichetta with another Gryffindor by the name Courfeyrac who grins like he catches the sun everytime he does it.

She’s the first to make a pun out of his name to his face, no snickers hidden behind potion textbooks – and with a shove at her shoulder and a yelp when she drags him after her, they tumble down to the ground in a fight that doesn’t do much to hurt either of them. He helps her up, eventually, and when she shouts after him the next day in the big hall: a booming R, he doesn’t mind turning in his seat to smile at her. The nickname sticks like glue, and that night Bahorel beams that he can finally use the joke he’s been holding back from all these years since he’s known him. Grantaire shoves him out of his own bed, and from the floor, Bahorel just keeps laughing.

She drags him to his first Quidditch match and sits next to him and all his Hufflepuff friends, watching in glee as the spark of admiration is born. She’s playing in the next one, and he thinks flying might be the coolest thing in the world. While he never quite appreciated football when on TV back at home, this is different: they soar through the skies, they fight with all their being, and they try to win. He drags Bahorel with him to all the matches, Hufflepuff’s or not, and he cheers on Musichetta when she’s not up against his own house’s team.

To be honest, they’re at cliché as it gets; on their own and as a shaky friendship too. Musichetta is a typical loud and easy-going Gryffindor, getting out of situations by smiling or by sheer fist and wand force; and Grantaire finds himself quite pleased with just exploring all the differences between the Muggle world and this magical centuries old castle, with learning all there is to know about magic – knowledge that came once naturally to his pureblood friend. He tells her about cinemas, the cartoons that filled up his childhood, the fiction books where all that she considers natural is simply called fantastical. She scoffs, returns to more urgent tasks, and in quiet evenings, she finds her way back to him, asking for more, curious.

They separate dumbly: hurried in a flurry of socks lost and pets to calm, shoved in groups by their prefects before they can exchange promises to write to each other. They don’t do it; Musichetta dragged to extra magical practices by her parents, Grantaire skinny dipping in the river near his town, Bahorel right behind him.

The next year, he joins the Quidditch team, Bahorel following more or less willingly; first item on his list, and he meets Musichetta for the first time on the field, for a practice match. His ball hits her, she shoves him hard in the chest – and they all leave clutching their brooms to their chest, betrayed and bitter, rising stars in each of their houses’ teams. They go at each other during matches with almost hateful envy: each other’s skills an asset the other cannot offer, even as their positions are different. This rivalry of them steals gasps from the audience, earns them long complaints from their captains. But with this common passion to share between them, it seems like the playing field is not big enough, like whatever they do, the other will do better: and the coldness grows still.

They do not talk anymore. If Musichetta is still raiding the kitchens, it’s never as the same time as him. If he is still breaking small rules, helping the run of an ancient castle, he doesn’t ask for her help anymore. The only time they look at each other is before they play against each other, and they shake hands so forcefully their wrists remain aching for the remaining of the match. If Musichetta yearns to return to the greenhouse, it’s not seen in how desperate she is to avoid it. If Grantaire still rewatches his childhood shows, he has no oblivious Gryffindor to whom to explain all the workings of his home world. When she talks about him, he is simply Grantaire from Hufflepuff. When there are matches between Ravenclaws and Slytherins, they sit as further apart as possible, each surrounded by their own house’s colors.

Grantaire falls heart first into the warm embrace of his house: learns coin tricks from Bossuet, even as his friend can’t seem to finish any of them; he visits the library with Joly, and spends hours surrounded by his explanations, always interrupted by a pun, Joly’s laugh louder than his body might have proved. Bahorel still sneaks around in his bed, familiarity in the way their shoulders touch and his breathe sounds right next to his left ear.

He’s in his fourth year when they both become Quidditch captains, despite Musichetta being one year older than him. He takes it as a personal win, though when she’s coming up on the field, prouder and more alive than he ever remembers seeing her, he’s not so sure anymore. He remembers how much she loved this sport, with how much enthusiasm she initiated him in this thrilling mess. It suits her better than it does him for now, though they’ll both grow in their new roles and responsibilities with time. She congratulates him: first words spoken in a very long period of time, and he nods, he tries to smile back.

That match is one of the hardest that he’s played: his new position still uncomfortable and ill-fitted, new members still with much to still learn, and the win is for the Gryffindors. He can’t quite remember what possessed him to stay back later than all his fellow Hufflepuffs eager for hot chocolate and the comfort of their warm dorms – and neither why he was so sure she will do the same. They meet as they’re leaving the locker rooms, and they seize each other up, figure out what they missed in appearance during the summer, what they can play in their advantage in upcoming games. And then he’s pushing at her shoulders, she’s tugging at his waist, and their lips meet, hurried and messy and exactly how he’d expect a secret make-out session to go. She pauses and rests her head on his shoulder, he laughs in her hair, and then they get close again; go at it once, twice more. They call it practice, and they wink at each other as they go on their separate ways.

The next morning she takes a seat at the Hufflepuff table, and he diligently fills a plate with honeyed bread and offers it to her. She takes it with a smile, and then invites him over to her dorm sometimes, so they can watch the Quidditch Cup movements she has saved, and discuss the field tactics. If that’s not all they do, no one is none the wiser for some time. They find other uses for the broom closets now, before practice or in-between classes, and he can’t quite make-up his mind if he likes it when she wears bold red lipstick or not.

She snarls his name, rather than simply pronounce it, whenever they play against each other; but she whispers it with weird kindness when they’re alone, when rumors arise. They get sloppier, less interested in hiding whatever the fuck is going on between them, and they grow comfortable in not having a name for it, in enjoying it despite it. He brings hot chocolate when she’s under the weather because of too many rainy days; she gifts him her own knitted hat when he always comes to the Gryffindor common room snowed on, red eared and freezing. She makes fun of each of his passing crushes, he frowns at each of her conquests; they take breaks to date, but find their way in each other’s arms: for comfort, for the pleasant familiarity, for the knowledge they’ll never be asked for more.

They don’t quite share each other with their bigger friend groups, a not-so-secret secret for them to enjoy for now. They gravitate around each other for the following two years, shouting matches over Quidditch matches, meetings in shady places, raids at weird hours: and no, nothing has quite changed, and he doubts something will.

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