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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months

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Serendipity

chapter fifteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): allusions to death and cannonical violence, angst

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Draco is confined to the Hospital Wing for three whole weeks.

He was in and out of restless sleep for the first week, comatose in the second and fighting off the fog of pain reducing potions in the third.

Harry has detention with Snape, polishing endlessly dirty cauldrons, until the end of the year, which you and all of Slytherin house think should've been a far harsher punishment, but at least he's not gotten away with attempted murder.

You had visited Draco diligently almost every day during your free periods, alongside Pansy and Blaise, keeping him up to date on typical Hogwarts gossip and bringing him notes for classes that he needed (and avoiding the topic of quidditch because the thought of the matches he'd missed had put him in the most foul mood). He'd asked about the other trio that made up your group when they weren't with you, but there wasn't much you or Pansy could say.

It's like you've gone back to square one with him all over again.

Ever since the duel in the second floor bathroom, Mattheo has been avoiding you like the plague and you have no idea why.

But it's not just Mattheo; Lorenzo and even Theodore have not uttered so much as a hello to you; if Draco wasn't hospitalised you were certain he'd be giving you the same treatment. And it seems that Pansy is being offered the same sentiment, too, which can't mean anything good.

The two of you had been thrust together in solitary, abandoned by your friends, who would whisper conspiratorially with eachother when you were not there, and would completely change the subject when one of them spotted you or Pansy heading their way.

It was downright infuriating.

He could see it written all over your face, but he couldn't risk either of you knowing what they were doing. Blaise was an unfortunate exception; Mattheo tried to get him to leave it be, but his best friend was relentless, and would not stop pestering all four boys until he took it upon himself to follow them when they were none the wiser all the way back in September when the task had officially commenced.

The Vanishing Cabinet was almost repaired.

They were one step closer to completing Draco's seemingly impossible task. But, of course, Mattheo's father didn't think they were doing it fast enough, and he did not care that Draco's hospitalisation took priority over a stupid wardrobe. He would force his son's hand if he had to.

So the boys had spent the better part of a week locked away in the Room of Requirement. They hardly went to lessons, and when they did, it was only to keep up appearances to cause less suspicion among the staff (especially those that they suspected were high up in the Order's chain of command) and their peers.

He knows you're angry about his avoidance, but Mattheo cannot bring himself to involve you; to put you in anymore danger. Your display of power was enough to engage his overprotective side, and he knows that if he was able to figure you out before he even considered a civil friendship with you all those months ago, that his father would have you figured out in half the time. He already suspected that the Order knew about you, if Dumbledore knew, which already put you on Voldemort's radar, even if his father didn't know the siphon's true identity. He only knew that there was one in existence.

Mattheo only hopes that his father is too focused on his vendetta against the Headmaster to figure it out.

It's becoming increasingly more difficult to lie to you. Even the Unbreakable Vow he's forced to adhere to doesn't seem powerful enough anymore. You know about Horcruxes, he knows that for certain. Which puts you in danger, no matter if you know where the objects are or not. When he saw the memory of you holding the ring without knowing just what was in your hands...

...Mattheo had to keep you far away from that burden for as long as possible and he hated that Dumbledore had knowingly given you such a cursed object without a thought or qualm of the consequences.

Now, alongside Theo and Enzo, Mattheo is staring resolutely at the deep brown wooden door of the Vanishing Cabinet on a random Friday afternoon. The spell that they'd discovered had worked thus far; there were only so many more incantations needed for it to catalyse the spellbinding properties of the complex magic that was weaved into the wood centuries ago.

The boys were putting off the inevitable for as long as possible. But as Blaise arrived, with a freshly healed Draco in tow, they knew that it was time to do the inevitable.

"Harmonia Nectere Passus." Draco repeated the spell for the nth time and allowed Enzo to let the bird, whose wings were flapping wildly in his tentative hold, into the deep abyss.

They waited.

And waited.

And waited some more until Mattheo slowly reached for the handle, brows furrowed in apprehension when he felt the palpable pull of the wardrobe's magic, and opening it with a soft creak. The bird flew out and rose towards the ceiling of the Room of Requirement, disappearing from their sight and into the rafters in the ceiling.

The five of them stood silently for some time after that, each coming to their own grim realisations.

They had done it.

Finally after months of trial and error; after months of physical and mental torture, they had fixed the unfixable.

But at what cost?

Their left arms burned in earnest as Voldemort rallied his forces to prepare for infiltration. Blaise looked at his friends in solemn understanding. Horror swept through them like a wave in the sea.

What had they just done?

~∞~

He watched you from the shadows of the viaduct for some time before he decided to approach you.

You were sat in the courtyard, accompanied by Pansy, Ginny, Hermione, Luna and Neville (an odd bunch – your little group had garnered some whispers from passers by, and sneers too but none of you cared to pay them any mind).

He admired your beauty. The way your features brightened inexplicably as you laughed with your friends; how your eyes softened as a smile stretched across your flushed face; how the sun framed you like a halo would an angel. He hated that he would be the one to burst that bubble of indescribable happiness.

As he made his way towards you from the shadows, approaching you for the first time in a week, his chest tightened as your features hardened when you noticed him. He knew he deserved it. But it didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

"What do you want, Riddle?" the way Pansy spits his surname pains him just as much as your furrowed expression. He knows without a doubt, that the boys' actions had hurt her just as inherently as they had hurt you, if not more. But she would come to understand, eventually, that it was done for her protection.

"I need to talk to you." He says slowly. "To all of you."

This has their attention. And you watch as he brushes a hand through unruly curls, the sunlight highlighting deep, dark eyebags, as if he hadn't slept all week.

"About what?" Ginny demands, sitting up straighter from where she was lounging lazily next to Luna, whose head is tilted inquisitively. You still haven't shown him much of a reaction, and your mental walls were built up high and solid. Hermione looked skeptical, and Neville only looked confused and scared.

"You need to get in contact with the Order." he begins and he watches as you share a look of concern with Hermione.

"Why?" Hermione asks him and he casts his eyes to her chocolate ones, a grimace overtaking his face.

"Because there's going to be an attack on Hogwarts. Tonight." His statement sets off a chain of events.

Neville is a blubbering mess of nerves and fear as he rushes to stand. Luna has a contemplative look on her face; seemingly calm in the aftermath of Mattheo's words. Hermione looks terrified, but her face cools with a mask of indifference as if she herself is preparing for battle. Ginny looks up at him, a determined glint in her eyes as she rises to her feet, pulling you all up with her. Pansy looks horrified, her hands twisting together frantically as your own hands fight to calm them. And you...

Gods he wants someone to paint the look on your face onto a canvas; to cement it into existence forever.

Your brows are furrowed, creating a divet in the space between them and your lips are pulled into a frown that casts a melancholic sadness across your warm features. You're staring up at him with big, questioning eyes and all he wants to do is grab you and take you far, far away from everything; drag you to another continent so that he knows for certain that you'll be safe.

"How do you know there's going to be an attack?" you ask and he wants to desperately put off the inevitable, but he sees it in your eyes, and in your eddying thoughts (as well as Pansy's) – you already knew what he was about to admit, even if it killed him in the process.

"Draco had a task-" the Dark Mark burns angrily against the skin of his forearm and Mattheo grimaces and his heart skips a beat when you move towards him, shaking off Neville's wary hand. "-It was meant to have been completed three weeks ago-"

But he ended up having a brutal near death experience.

Is what he was trying to say, but the Mark was causing him agony, tearing at the very seams of his brain as he tried to make sense of the words appearing in his mind. But he couldn't string them together.

The feeling is gone as soon as your hands are gracing his skin, which is hot to the touch.

You watched as his face scrunched in pain and your heart physically hurts for him. You wanted his misery to end. So you used your ability and siphoned away some of the magic that was binding itself aggressively to Mattheo's very being, letting the veins of dark magic coarse through your's and settle restlessly into the conduit around your neck, casting your indigo core in dark shadows of obsidian.

It burned like hell, but watching his face return to it's relaxed state, was worth it.

"Why did you do that?" he asks you incredulously, staring down at you with wide onyx eyes.

"You were in pain." you say breathlessly. "I don't like seeing you in pain."

He brings his forehead to rest against your's. It's the first point of contact you've both had all week and you all but melt into him.

"I'm trying to explain myself to you," he mumbles. "But this damned thing has a chokehold on my very core."

He's glaring hatefully toward his left arm and you hear the way your friends take a collective inhale of breath. You grasp it gently, running sooting lines up and down his forearm with a soft caress of your fingers that has his tensed shoulders relaxing imperceptibly.

"You don't have to explain yourself, if it means you may end up killing yourself in the process, Théo." you reply, ignoring the eyes that are on you, feeling like you're the only people stood in the viaduct courtyard. "No one wants that. I don't want that."

Ginny clears her throat, knocking you from the haze of staring into his captivating eyes. She's looking at Mattheo with a little more determination than before. He shifts on his feet, hand reaching for your's, which you take without question, letting him hold you in some way, for comfort.

"Does the Order still have people guarding the outskirts of the castle grounds and the town's streets?" He asks Hermione who nods slowly, confused on how he knows this information. "There are spies everywhere, Granger don't act so surprised."

His words resonate with all of you, but you don't have time to ponder it as Mattheo continues.

"Find them and tell them, now. There's not enough time to waste." he says, voice strong and commanding. "And where's Professor Dumbledore? He needs to stay away from the Astronomy Tower."

"Why?" Ginny asks but it's not Mattheo that answers her question.

"They're going to kill him, aren't they?" Pansy's voice is no louder than a whisper, and the way Mattheo flinches is an answer in itself.

Hermione is frozen. Eyes wide in horror.

"He's not here." She says, voice low. "He took Harry to search for a- for a horcrux. They won't return until well past curfew."

Your mouth gapes in realisation.

"The only point in the castle that Dumbledore can apparate to and from is the-"

"Astronomy Tower." Mattheo says with you and you turn to eachother with identical looks of dread on your faces.

"Go to the Order. Tell them to get reinforcements."

It's the last thing he says before he drags Pansy away, probably towards the Slytherin common room where the others are, leaving you with your friends in a state of pure distress.

You run to the nearest Order member you know of immediately and Professor McGonnagall is just as shocked as you all are.

Reinforcements are called upon immediately and by eight o'clock, just before curfew, the corridors are swarming with Order members.

~∞~

The Dark Mark streaked vibrantly green across the night sky like an ominous painting. It had appeared only moments ago. When Bellatrix Lestrange and a group of more than a dozen Death Eaters had infiltrated the school's usually impenetrable defences. Calamitous and imposing with the snake moving silkily into the mouth of the giant skull, Dumbledore's Army and Order members were fighting tooth and nail to eliminate the hoards of Death Eaters that had managed to get past the wards.

Meanwhile up in the Astronomy tower, protected against Order members with their own wards, Mattheo stood shrouded in shadows, alongside Draco, Theo and Enzo as they watched the swirls of green mist form a cloud of animosity in the vast, open room. They stood in typical Death Eater masks, to conceal their faces, all but Draco who stood with his head held high, right hand clenching his wand harshly, to prevent it from trembling like a leaf.

Professor Dumbledore and Harry Potter landed with uncoordinated grace only moments after Bellatrix had cast the Mark. The former looked haggard and ill – as if he could topple over with a gust of wind at any second.

This will make Draco's task easier. Theo said wordlessly as they observed the way the Headmaster clutched at his chest with his decaying hand.

Mattheo agreed without so much as moving a muscle. Body tense as he tried to imagine you safe in your dorm room, away from the chaos that was no doubt about to ensue. But he knew you better than that.

He knew you were in the fray, fighting for the right cause. Fighting for your life, and your friend's lives. He could hear the distant sound of spells clashing against eachother; walls crumbling; people screaming out for help. He only hopes one of those screams is not your own.

He locks away the thoughts. He cannot be distracted right now. Not when the deed was about to be done.

"Go and wake Severus. Tell him what has happening and bring him to me. Do noth- nothing else. Speak to nobody and do not remove your cloak. I shall wait here." Dumbledore says faintly to Potter, who slowly slips the infamous Invisibility Cloak over his head, but before he can conceal himself fully, Draco's arm begins to burn, as does Mattheo's.

It's time.

The floor creaks as Draco moves to step around the corner of the room where he sees a ripple of movement by the door, but no body. Harry had already disappeared under the cloak, seemingly unmoving, as if he was paralysed.

He errupted around the corner in seconds, shouting "Expelliarmus!" and had disarmed his Headmaster with surprising ease, though he does well not to show the emotions cross his face. The Elderwand, that was previously gripped snuggly in Dumbledore's dueling hand, flies in an arc-like shape onto the floor, rolling under a group of orreries in the far corner of the Astronomy Tower.

Professor Dumbledore was, for the first time in his over one hundred years of life, deathly weak and utterly defenceless. Despite this, he did not look panicked or distressed. He only greeted Draco with a cold smile of recognition.

"Hello Draco. Pleasant evening, isn't it?"

Draco stepped into the foreboding green light, reflecting off of the countless metal contraptions surrounding them. His eyes darted across the clearing, from where Dumbledore stood, to where Potter's now invisible body lay.

Mattheo, Theo, Enzo and Draco knew he was there. But the others did not, probably expecting him to be fighting alongside the Order. Most were fighting below, others were waiting for a signal of their own. But Bellatrix wanted to watch her nephew complete his task. She had appeared silently beside Mattheo and had spotted a veil of magic that wasn't supposed to be there.

She looks suspicious. Make it look convincing. Draco heard Mattheo's warning and so the acting began.

"Who else is here?" he demanded, face void of any telling emotion. Dumbledore only smiled knowingly.

"I might ask you the same. Or are you acting alone?"

Draco's stoney eyes fell on Dumbledore's weakened figure.

"There are Death Eaters roaming your school grounds. We let them in right under your nose and you didn't have the slightest idea." Draco sneered, lifting his wand higher in anticipation.

"Ingenious." Dumbledore replied, and Mattheo could sense a shift in his demeanor. "I wonder...where are they now? You seem quite....unsupported."

"They're a little preoccupied with your precious Order. Fighting below. They won't be long, but I have a job to do." Draco responds icily, wand hand twitching. Mattheo knew then that Draco wouldn't make the killing blow.

"Well then, might I suggest you get on and do it," Dumbledore says, his voice growing softer as he smiled. "You are not a killer Draco Malfoy. Am I to believe that your friend would try to help if she knew what you were about to do."

"I've made peace with that possibility, sir." Draco says, though regret shines in his light grey eyes. It shines in all their eyes at the thought of what you will say in the wake of their ultimate betrayal.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of. The things I've done!" Draco continues, his voice surging with growing confidence.

"I do." Dumbledore says slowly. "I know you and your friends almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley in your desperate attempts to kill me all year. I can't help but notice that they have been feeble at best. Forgive me, my boy, but I wonder whether your heart has really been in it–"

"It has been in it!" Draco retorts vehemently, as if Voldemort was listening from around a corner. "We've been working on it all year and-"

There's a loud and muffled yell somewhere in the corridors below them and Mattheo stiffens at the thought of it being you.

He'd only seen you once in passing, fighting against Dolohov with one of the Weasley offspring. You didn't recognise him while he was in his Death Eater robes, You were fighting strong and fast against the older man, who barely stood a chance against all your unleashed power.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight." Dumbledore says, voice filling the tension that permeates the air.

"You managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school which I'll admit, I thought was impossible. How did you do it?" He sounds intrigued rather than nervous or frightened. Mattheo tenses more. Ignoring Bellatrix's presence as she too observes, clearly fighting the urge to intervene and kill Albus Dumbledore herself.

Draco did not respond. His focus was on the battle happening beneath them.

"Perhaps you ought to continue with the job alone, although I am curious to know where your friends are." Dumbledore's words prompt Voldemort's right hand woman to forcefully shove Mattheo from the shadows.

He stumbles unexpectedly, but rights himself as his gaze settles on his Headmaster. He removes the mask and runs a hand through his unruly curls.

"Ah Mr Riddle." he greets with cool eyes of steel as if he wasn't a lamb sent to the wolves. "I have to say, I'm surprised it's not you stood in Mr Malfoy's position."

"My father wanted to punish his father. Thought it was fitting that Draco did his dirty work for him." Mattheo says, voice low and deep as he stares into irises of silver. Dumbledore cocks his head as Mattheo opens up his mind to the Headmaster as he speaks out loud to fill the otherwise empty silence.

I warned the Order before the Death Eaters got here. They were prepared.

Perhaps Miss Meadow was right about you after all. Dumbledore's response holds an ounce of regret that does not translate to his face. Do not let your father know of her abilities. We both know what he will do with her if he does.

With my life, Sir. He will never know that she is the one with the power to summon from the elements.

She doesn't know the full extent of her abilities does she?

We've barely scratched the surface, Sir.

With the most imperceptible of nods from his Headmaster, Mattheo comes to stand beside his best friend, face stoic, yet expressionless, resembling his father's old face as if they were identical twins.

"What if your back-up has been thwarted by my guard? The Order are efficient at what they can do."

Malfoy merely stared at him. He did not know of the passing conversation that had just occurred between the other two men.

"I see," said Dumbledore kindly, when Draco neither moved nor spoke. "You are afraid to act until you have an audience."

"I'm not afraid!" Draco snarled, though he still made no move to hurt

Dumbledore, who stood defencelessly before the two of them. "It's you who should be scared!"

Mattheo's bones were practically vibrating with anticipation. Draco needed to stop stalling.

"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe. So tell me, while we wait for the rest of your friends. How did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

Draco looked as though he was fighting down the urge to shout, or to vomit. He gulped and took several deep breaths, glaring at Dumbledore, his wand pointing directly at the latter's heart.

It's Mattheo who responds this time, giving Draco the time he needed to compartmentalise his emotions. "We had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that hasn't been used in years. The wardrobe that Graham Montague got lost in last year."

It takes effort for all of them to hold back their snickers as they vividly remember when Montague had emerged almost two months later.

Dumbledore makes a sound of acknowledgment that was more of a painful groan than a sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"That was clever. There is a pair, I take it?"

"The other's in Borgin and Burkes," Mattheo continues, voice raspy and slow as he explains, reminding Dumbledore even more of who the boy's father is.

"They make a kind of passage between them. Montague told us that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the wardrobe was travelling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him. In the end he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never actually passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone else thought it was a really good story, but we – Theo, Draco, Enzo and I figured out that there could be a way into Hogwarts through the Cabinets if we fixed the broken one. My father thought it was....ingenious."

"Very good," murmured Dumbledore. "So the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you. A clever plan, a very clever plan. And, as you say, right under my nose..."

"Yeah," Draco says, quite recovered from his momentary stupor and bizarrely, seemed to draw courage and comfort from Dumbledore's praise. "Yeah, it was!"

"But there were times, weren't there?" Dumbledore went on, "When you were not sure you would succeed in mending the Cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands–"

Draco flinched.

"–Poisoning mead that there was only the slightest chance I might drink–"

Mattheo grimaced only slightly. He imagined that Theo and Enzo had similar flinching responses, too.

"Yeah, well, you still didn't realise who was behind that stuff, did you?" Draco sneered, as Dumbledore slid a little down the ramparts, the strength in his legs apparently fading.

"As a matter of fact, I did," He said. "I was quite certain it was you."

"Why didn't you stop me, then?" Draco demanded and Mattheo couldn't help but wonder, himself.

"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders–"

Everyone in that room froze at his words. A pin drop could be heard for miles at the noxious silence that followed that statement.

"No that's not right. He hasn't been following your orders, he promised my mother–"

"Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but–"

"He's a double agent, you stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!" Draco shouts over the dying man.

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape–"

"Well, you're losing your grip, then!" Draco sneers again, ignoring Mattheo's careful hand that rests on his friends shoulder in warning. "He's been offering me plenty of help, wanting all the glory for himself, wanting a bit of the action–"

Mattheo drowns out Draco's depressing monologue in favour of observing the way Dumbledore grew weaker with every passing second. They didn't have long. They needed to get this done.

"How long was Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse, Mr Riddle?" Dumbledore's question brings him back to the present.

"All year." He responds lowly, shamefully. Admitting it felt like being pelted by thousands of tiny shards of glass, but he knew that was the guilt.

"So poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk amongst her own bathroom stalls and pass the cursed necklace to any student who entered unaccompanied?" Dumbledore sounds intrigued, disgusted and weirdly amused as he lists off his suspicions. "And of course she poisoned the mead before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, perhaps believing it to be my Christmas present, despite it being so late into the new year. Very insidious. Of course Mr Filch would not think to check something addressed from her. Tell me how you were communicating with her. I believed we had monitored all forms of communication in and out of the school."

"Enchanted coins." Draco replied, his wand hand was trembling badly now. "I had one and she had the other-"

"Like the secret method Dumbledore's Army used to communicate last year? Did Miss Meadow give you that idea?"

"Leave her name out of your mouth." Mattheo hissed, teeth gritted together in a rage. He could practically smell Bellatrix's curiousity. He wondered how she'd managed to stay so still and quiet for all this time. He had almost forgotten that she was there, had he not felt the daunting barbed walls of her mental shield.

"I got the idea from Granger, actually. I overhear her talking about all sorts in the library." Draco says, sharing a fleeing glance with Mattheo, who once again drowned out the sound of their voices, in favour of trying to reach you.

Meadow? Nothing.

Answer me! No response. Your mind was as hard as a stonewalled fortress against his desperation.

There was a bang and a collection shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where they were stood.

Wordlessly he tells Draco, Enzo and Theo to be ready to sink into the shadows and leave at any given moment. Their silent aggreement has his tense shoulders slacking only for mere moments.

"There is little time, one way or another," said Dumbledore. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options!" Draco said loudly. "I'm standing here with a wand – I'm about to kill you–"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretence about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first Disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" he yelled and he was suddenly as white as Dumbledore. "I have no choice! I have to kill you. Or he's going to kill me and my family."

"I appreciate the difficulty of your precarious situation." Dumbledore responded "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected you."

They all winced at the sound of the name. Except Mattheo. His onyx eyes only hardened.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you, but I suppose with the help of his son you would have been fine," Dumbledore continued, casting a singular look at Mattheo. "But now at last we can speak plainly to each other...no harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived. I can help you, Draco."

"Where was that offer when Meadow came to you?" he snapped, wand hand raised and shaking. Mattheo's eyes shut briefly. Your name was bound to be brought up in the next meeting at this point.

Dumbledore said nothing in response to that and Mattheo practically growled his discontent. But before anyone could utter another word, a dozen sets of footsteps thundered up the spiral staircase and Bellatrix Lestrange had finally, finally stepped out from the shadows, a menacing smirk stretching across her gaunt face as Severus Snape stood ominously beside her, wand poised and ready to strike.

~∞~

hiiii!! it's been a while (like two weeks??) since i updated serendipity

this is part one of the astronomy battle scene from the book – the next part (chapter 16) should be out within the next week since i have uni work to complete 😒 but i hope you enjoyed this one xxx

also unrelated to this post, i saw niall horan last night and it felt like a fever dream?? take me back right now.

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#serendipity series #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #harry potter #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #ginny weasley x reader #hermione granger #angst #albus dumbledore #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys

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robynlilyblack · 2 years

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You had one job Weasley!

Fred Weasley x fem! slytherin! reader

Summary: Fred and Y/n are on opposite sides of the war, engaging in a dangerous game of sneaking around, but will their luck run out when the final battle is upon them?

Warnings: swearing, angst, sad and happy fluff, mentions of war, death, murder, injuries, blood, grief as well as Greyback and Bellatrix being ruthless, established relationship, secret relationship, hurt/comfort, kissing, remus lupin lives, only proofread once x

A/n: 6.5k words, Timothy Greengrass and Joey Taggert are my OC's, wolfstar implied but if you ship remdora it's written neutral x thank you for the request, as you can see I missed writting for freddie and hence wrote alot, please enjoy xx

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

Your leg bobbed uncontrollably, paranoia seeping through your brain at every small noise you heard, even the wisp of the the wind had hairs standing up. This wasn’t how you pictured your late teens, you expected some drama sure, maybe some minor life threatening when your original plan to run away with your boyfriend was discovered, but a war, becoming an order spy, having to shield your thoughts constantly from the darkest and most powerful wizard of your generation? Yeah…maybe paranoia was an understatement

Currently you were deep down a lane off diagon alley yet you could just about see the orange hue of your boyfriends shop shining down the far end. You checked yours…well actually Sirius’ pocket watch, it was 4 in the morning. Fred was likely not awake yet you hoped the light of your patronus was enough to wake him through the window.

There was a risk George or Lee may see it, but they wouldn’t connect it to you. Deatheaters were known to be unable to cast them, only exceptions were you, Timothy and your late friend as you highly doubted a man like Snape could do it. On top of that there was no words, no message with it, because Fred would know it was you, just like he always did

“Please come” you whisper, hugging yourself as the winter cold cut straight through your jumper and jacket

You probably should have worn something more, but you loved this jacket, it was cool, Sirius wherever he was now would totally approve. In fact the jacket was his, given to you from when you did run away. Yet less than a year later you would lose him and be forced by Snape and Dumbledore to return to your parents and the dark wanker himself. You would go on to convince them you were only doing as the former told you in order to gain their trust and to do that you had to make it completely believable.

Your parents were typical slytherins, yet even though you pretty much knew most slyhterins were arseholes you were proud to be one. It took a while for people to trust you.

Sirius trusted you the moment you arrived at his door, you’d later understand why as he did the same thing when he was your age. Remus followed his friend's suit and Harry trusted his godfather.

The Weasleys were cautious and all but Fred remained so, his trust grew quickly much like your crushes, to the point you were a couple by the time your final year began.

Hermione never trusted you, to the point you and your friends weren’t invited to the DA, even after Fred went off on her for it. You didn’t blame her, nor argued your way in, yet you felt sick that she was probably revealing now about how she was right. How everyone would say you were this monster just like Peter. How Sirius would be so disappointed in you now. How you…

“Hey”

You dart around, extending your wand

“Just me love” Fred lets out a chuckle

You let out a shaky breath, heartbeat returning to normal

Lowering your wand you took a second to admire him, he looked the exact same. Same light in his eyes, same goofy smile…same terrible colour scheme…orange and blue fred? What are you an Irn bru can?

Fred may have looked like he was joking, taking things slow and letting you come to him. Yet in reality all he wanted to do was take you in his arms and never let you go. He was constantly worried, to the point that not even George knew he was meeting with you, everyone in the world saw you as a traitor but not him.

“You just gonna drool over my banging physique or are you gonna kiss me?” he gestures to himself

He watches you let out a small laugh at his joke and it kills him. The light in your eyes had almost faded into nothing but a mere sparkle when you looked at him. The girl that was his underground agent back in his last year of hogwarts was now in the major leagues, risking her life more than he or most of the order were, his radio and missions child's play compared to you

Snape had tried to break his heart, told you there could be no loose ends but you refused. Instead you told him everything and offered to obliviate him if he wanted after, giving him the choice. That choice made him love you all the more, he knew remembering was dangerous, but in no world he wanted to forget you, hate you, if not for himself but you as well.

“You want me to come to you?” he offers and you nod, upper face scrunching like you want to cry but have no tears left to fall, the war had sucked you dry

He wraps his arms around you, nose nudging into your hair. It was greasy and tangled, swept back in a clear attempt to hide it. He didn’t mind. You still smelled like you, the same thing he breathed in every night as he kept your scarf, well his old scarf that you stole, on the pillow you should be sleeping on. It was even charmed to hold your scent, and above all your place until you could return to him

“Hi” you mumble into his jacket, arms clutching onto him like he’s going to disappear

“Hi” he whispers back, holding you that little bit closer before he pulls back

Your hands still cling onto him but your head tilts up so you can see his face, leaning into his hand as it cups your cheek. His eyes flick over your face, lips parted as his thumb glides over your cheek

“What are you doing?” You ask softly, a little shy under his gaze

“Memorising every inch of you….just in case” he answers truthfully, you both knew by now it was likely one or both of you may not make it through this so you savoured every moment like it was the last

He leans in and kisses your forehead. It’s lingering. His heart aching that this was the way it had to be. That everytime he sees you he tries to remember every feature, blemish, indentation, that little hue of colour in your eyes you can only see up close. When you leave it’ll replay in his mind every night, hoping, praying to gordic himself that he won’t be replaying it for the rest of his life and he’ll have a chance to see you once more

You find yourself doing the same, eyes tracing over trying to remember every detail, the slight wrinkles caused by laughter, every freckle that scattered his face, the shine of his hair…

“I love you” are the first words that escape your lips, hands trying to pull him just that little bit closer

He melts, but it’s in a soul crushing way. Your voice is beautiful, the one he heard late at night when he purposefully stayed up too late, his over tired mind finding it easier to imagine you beside him, assuring him his family and friends would make it. That you would make it. Return to him. Start a life together. Grow old together

Fred’s eyes are watery when you meet them “I love you so much” he says earnestly before cupping your face and leaning in to rub his nose against yours “How long do we have?” he whispers

“10 minutes” you give him a sad smile

“How would you like to spend them?” he asks, trying to smile as crying together would a waste

“Hold me”

He manoeuvres backwards, sitting down on a small ledge and gently pulling you onto his lap to hold you. His arms hold you securely, heads tucked into the others necks, your arms wrapped under his arms, clutching his shoulders. The ground is crisp, his arse soon growing numb as do your knees yet neither of you care, all that matters was these few minutes. They would pass slowly and quickly, there would never be enough time, even forever would never be enough

“You think he’ll be proud of me?”

You don’t have to say his name and Fred knows, pulling back to look at you, one hand moving to fiddle with your jacket

“Yes” he nods firmly “And if he was still here he would be proud to call you his daughter”

“A few more weeks and I would have been” you look down “I still have the papers hidden under the floorboard” you confess

Fred presses a kiss to your hair line “You could always change your last name to his” he offers and you look back up, nodding with a mournful smile

“Or become a dog” you let out the smallest of laughs

He joins you “You’d make an adorable dog” he nods

“Imagine the mischief” you laugh again, its freer and Fred’ heart swells

“We’d be unstoppable” he chuckles

The giggles soon die down, the cold alley quieting again as you pull a small bit of paper from your pocket. Fred watches you fiddle with it for a second, before you open it up and smile. He can’t see the contents until you turn the paper around, his hand coming up to take it

“You drew this?” he asks as his eyes trace over, instantly recognising himself

You nod, eyes growing glassy again as you talk

“You know Joe used to give me and Tim these stupid sketching lessons back at Hogwarts” you let out a breathy laugh “We’d always fluck them, drawing silly things instead” a tear falls “We found all his scetchbooks after he…” you can’t say it “Me and Tim decided to continue filling the two he had bought for us but never had the chance to…” you look back up at Fred I’ve drawn lots of you, and Sirius…and him from memory” you sniffle “That ones my faviourite” you point to it

Fred stares down at it before looking up again “Why give it to me?” he asks, heart heavy that this was you saying goodbye

“Because then you can give it back to me”

He folds up the drawing, carefully placing it in his inner pocket before bringing your lips to his. The kiss is slow, made up of multiple little kisses with whispered ‘I love yous’ slipping out in between them.

The kisses last a while, until your both hugging each other close, noses buried in each others neck

“I need to go” you murmur, placing a chaste kiss to his skin

His heart drops but he nods, letting you off of his lap and accepting your hands as you hold them out. Even after he’s stood up his hands never leave yours, neither of you can let go.

Not just yet

“I’ll see you again” he says, holding your hands tighter, nodding

I’ll see her again

You smile as much as you can, nodding as well “Until the next time”

There will be a next time

“Until next time” he repeats your words, reluctantly letting your hands slip away

You turn away, beginning to walk when you look back, staring for a moment before running backup for one final embrace

“Next time” you whisper before pressing your lips to his

“Next time” he kisses you once more but a little harder, thumbs caressing your face

You kiss him one last time, softly, before parting and walking off quickly, knowing if you look back again or stay you would never leave.

Fred watches you walk away, taking his heart with him while yours remains here with him. As his hand moves to wipe the tears that fell the moment you turn the corner he feels something sticking out of his jacket pocket

It’s a piece of paper similar to the one you gave him earlier. Opening it the years fall harder, it was a drawing of you while you’re laughing, it’s so beautiful, and in the corner is your writing

Joey drew this the week before he died. I want you to have it. It's been six months since I last saw you. I don’t know how long it will be until we see each other again, if we see each other again, so I want you to remember me like this. Happy.

I love you Freddie

Always

“She’ll come back” he holds it to his chest “She going to come back”

The next months were hard. In fact hard was an understatement when yourself and Timothy were paired with Greyback and his snatchers.

During that time you met Ted Tonks once more, a man you respected, yet you couldn’t let him go free and that was a decision that would haunt you and Timothy forever. Greyback was the one that did it, something that was so cruel, so horrific it was beyond words. He waited until the full moon, set Ted free and hunted him like it was a sport. Bellatrix arrived the following morning but only to cackle over his body while you and timothy watched

You saw many things that made you lose faith at times. Timothy was always there though, and although Joey was gone you had his drawings, even the ones which held old conversations from potions. You would talk to them sometimes, perhaps it was on set insanity but it helped.

It kept you going

Now you were back at Hogwarts, shaky hands as you waited for Snape to give you both instructions that weren’t a vague be within the castle walls as soon as you can

“Where have you been?” You ask a little on edge Tim as he enters your old common room “Oh no what?” you notice his face

“It’s happening, Harry’s here and the order has arrived too” he replies, looking beyond nervous "I think they've taken over the great hall but I didn't stick around to check"

You nod slowly taking a few breaths, heart racing that Fred was so close “Guess that’s why he wanted us here” you take a seat on your old spot on the couches and Timothy joins you, leaving a space in the middle for where Joey once sat

You both look at the empty space and then each other

“He should be here” he whispers

“Yeah” you nod “Though if he was he’d tell you that shirt looks terrible” you can’t stop the giggle

He scoffs “Well fuck you too” he starts chuckling too, looking down “Salazar it is terrible isn't it…why'dyou let me wear this?” he shakes his head

“You didn’t wash any others” you shrug

“Can you transfigure it?” he pleas “I can’t die in this”

You let out a shocked laugh “I can’t believe you just said that!”

“What it’s true! Doesn’t matter if both sides are gonna try and kill us, when they see this monstrosity they’ll be like let’s kill the wanker in the shit coloured shirt”

You giggle at him but then your face falls a little “You aren’t going to die…we’ll make it out” you say, looking serious before you crack a smile “Cause Joe will never let us live it down if we die”

“Yeah" he laughs "He’d rip the pish out of us the moment we got there, wherever there is”

“And say that shirt is a crime against fashion” you giggle, taking your wand and muttering some spells to change the shirts colour

“Better?”

“Much thanks” his fingers fiddle with the soft green material “Matches my eyes…well one of them”

“I’m not making the other half blue Tim. Then you would look like a right wanker”

You both chuckle for a little while. Enjoying the small bit of normal you always found in each other. That was until you spot a bright light out of the common room window. Standing, you both make your way over, watching the light stretch down through the water to the bed below

“It’s weirdly beautiful” Timothy notes watching the shimmer

You hum in agreement “I know it’s always been real. The war I mean. But now it feels…”

“Really real” Timothy takes your hand “Like it’s the beginning of the end”

"Yeah" you squeeze his hand before looking up at him “Just hope it’s the end we hope for”

“It will be” he stares out of the window for a second and takes a deep breath, then he turns to you “Love you” he gives you the best smile he can muster

“Me too” you nod

“You love yourself?” he teases earning a playful hit

“Arsehole”

Fred made his way up the stairs, following Remus, Tonks, and the elder of his family, George walked beside him but it was quiet. Air feeling so thick it was almost suffocating. Everyone he loved was here except you, he had no idea where you were. Where are you in the castle? Outside the barrier? Worse?

“You alright?” his twin whispers as they get to the top

He wants to say no, I’m not okay, I have no idea if the love of my life is alright, but he can't, instead he lies

“Yeah…you?” he asks, walking outside towards the balcony of the tower

“Yeah” George gives a firm nod, hands finding the wall “Nice view”

“Seen better” that makes George chuckle

They watch the spells hit the barrier. It was beautiful in its own way, like the calm before a storm, yet the storm is always inevitable and rips away everything

But you can only hope its not everything

Georges drift to the side “Looks like someones trying to cheer us up” he chuckles drawing Fred’s attention

“Wha…” he starts to ask when he sees it, a patronus, your patronus

He smiles

“Kinda looks like Sirius’ in his dog form” George notes “Think it’s Remus’ they were thing once weren't they?”

“Could be” Fred shrugs “I’ll go see, be back in a jiff” Fred pats his twins shoulder as he passes, walking towards the dancing light, following the dog as it patters back into the tower and down one flight of stairs, eventually disappearing behind a tapestry

His heart does a little skip wanting nothing more than to run in but he holds himself back, glancing around to check no one can see him before he enters slowly

“Love?” he whispers looking around until his eyes fall on you, leaning on the small window as you stared out “Love” he repeats a little louder

That gains your attention and you waste no time making your way over to him “Hi” you greet, trying to stop your hands from shaking

Fred takes them in his “Hi” he says, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles

“I love you so much” you can’t stop the tears as they were already falling, your hands slipping out of his and cupping his cheeks shocking him a little but then his own chase yours, grasping your wrists

“I love you too” he squeezes them, worry swarming in his stomach at how broken you look “What’s going on? Do they know you're a spy? They get Timothy?” he asks mildly frantic

“No nothing like that they have no idea…although they’ll know soon enough” you assure him before taking a breath

“Then what is it?” he asks softly

“You know when we said no promises? Because life's so unpredictable there's little chance we’ll be able to keep them” he nods “I need you to not to necessarily promise, but tell me you won’t get yourself killed. That we’ll make it out and we’ll get married and have a life together. A beautiful messy, chaotic life together”

He can feel the tears hitting his hands as he answers “I promise” his own eyes watering

“We’re so close to the end” you say with a shaky voice “We’ve come too far to lose it all now...I can't...” you take a sharp breath trying to compose yourself

“And we won’t" he wipes your tears and cups your face "When this is over, I'm going to ask you to marry me, and you’ll...hopefully..." you giggle "...say yes, and then we’ll move into a weird and wacky cottage, raise children if we want them and then grow old and grey together”

“Good” you smile at him, nodding as your hands fall from his cheek and wrap around his torso while his slither around you, holding you tight

You held each other for less than a minute but it felt like a small eternity. The first and last promise you would ever make to each other spoken in that little hideaway, and when you parted, watched Fred walk back up the stairs and you headed down to meet Timothy again, you both hoped it wouldn't be broken

Because if it was, neither of you would survive it

“Tim!” you shout, flicking a spell towards one of Greybacks snatchers

Running down the hall you found yourself near Gryffindor tower once more, yet you couldn’t worry about Fred. You had to find Timothy, Fred had the order looking out for him while you and Timothy only had one another. Everyone was out for you. In fact you had saved Remus from a death eater only to be spotted by Tonks soon after and almost killed whilst trying to slip away

“Tim” you say mostly for yourself, frantically looking around when you see a flash of red hair

Percy

He was fighting death eaters who had forced their way through what must have been one of the not so secret passages. He hadn’t seen you as you continued down the corridor towards him, hoping Timothy was just behind or in front of you.

You couldn’t head back now there were too many looking for you

You movements stopped though when you saw him “Fred” you see him join Percy's side

Of course he’s laughing, you think as you draw closer…then you see it

A death eater pointing his wand towards Percy and Fred through the windows of the corridors. You didn’t think just ran towards them. Percy was a little closer to the impact zone as the spell hit the wall, blowing up the bricks and sending most of it down and towards Fred and you guessed now, yourself

They hadn’t noticed your approach, reactions delayed until Percy was flung backwards and down a flight of stairs when you were a mere metre from Fred

You turned your body towards the falling wall yelling “Retcuto!” the spell vaporising the wall and the impact of which sending you and Fred flying deeper down the corridor, landing next to one another as smaller debris lands almost softly around you

“Fuck” Fred groans, wand still in his hand as he processes what just happened “Percy!” he shoots up, ignoring the sting as he looks to the side, not seeing his brother but you wincing on your side “Y/n…Y/n!” he says the first in shock and the second in alarm scooping you into his arms

Fred ignores the calls of his name from not only Percy but Ron and Harry who seem to have stumbled upon them, the small well of rubble blocking their view. Your eyes open, panting heavy and he thinks you’re going to say something sweet, maybe a cute a hello, but instead you hit him multiple times in the shoulder whilst sitting up as best you can with his help

“You had one job, Weasley!” you scold him, earning a shocked laugh

“We almost die and you’re shouting at me?”

“Yes, you complete arse” you were laughing now as well hitting him between words while he just chuckled "You promised"

“I know my snake in not so shiny armour” he quips even if his heart hurts that at the idea that without you he would be dead

His joke earns another nudge but then you wince again, face scrunching

“You okay?” his brows knit, smile dropping to concern as his hand moves to your side only to feel some wetness “Merlin” he gasps looking down, realising some of the glass from the window had hit your side

“That isn’t good” you press your hand to the area, feeling the blood seeping out too quickly before looking at him “Freddie I…” the adrenaline was wearing off now, the pain was searing and you were quickly feeling faint “...I feel a little…” you can’t finish but he understands

“Stay with me okay?” he cups your cheek, some bloods smearing across it

“Fred when we call you…answer” Percy starts a little intense and finishes with a whisper “Who?” he can’t quite see your face

“Fred we…” Ron and Harry jog up after throwing a few covering spells “...is that...” Ron trails off

Your head falls into Freds chest, unable to hold yourself up “Y/n love I need to you stay awake” Fred was panicking now, still ignoring his family as tears stream "Please we promised" he whispers kissing your temple when your eyes won't open

“Fred we need to go!” Ron shouts in an almost uncaring manner

“No!” Fred bites back with a tone none of them had ever heard, scaring them “Help me get her somewhere safe”

“Shes a death…”

“One more word and I will never speak to you again” he warns his younger brother while Percy has already moved to help

“If you can carry her I’ll defend you. We can hide behind one of the statues until it dies down enough to go to the great hall, okay?” he says softly, kneeling down

Fred nods, lifting you up with a little help from Percy

“Got her?” he checks and Fred nods

“We’ll help” Harry chips in, earning a thankful look from Fred, a nod from Percy and a baffled look from Ron

“Harry” Ron shakes his head shrugging

“Just come on” Harry doesn’t bother to argue just follows “We’ll talk about it later”

Fred was in the great hall now, crouching by your small bed on the floor and watching Madam Pomfrey work. His family were slowly making their way in, all in sheer panic for a moment until they see him and Percy who was sitting nearby

“Will she be okay?” he looks hopefully at the nurse when she stands

She nods “Yes, the wound isn’t magical nor was it deep so she will be fine. Normally I wouldn’t say she shouldn’t walk when she wakes up but given the circumstances Mr Weasley if she wants to fight she can” the older women tells him before taking her leave, answering quickly as she simply didn’t have the time

“Freddie!” his head shoots up at his twins voice, clambering to his feet to hug him tightly

“Thank merlin” Fred breaths out, pulling back and cupping his brothers face “Thought I'd lost you in chaos”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily” George chuckles, pulling him in for another hug before Fred parts and bear hugs Ginny, followed by Charlie, Bill, Fleur and his parents, whilst percy does something similar

The reunion however is cut short when Tonks approaches with Remus not long behind her

“Why is she here?” the small group looks towards them, the pink-haired women looking rather upset while the ex professor seemed sad

Remus had regarded you in a similar way to Sirius, even if he had grown disappointed in you since your ‘betrayal’, he still felt sick to his stomach seeing you hurt

“She’s a death eater…she has the mark” Tonks points towards the peaking of black ink under your scrunched sleeve

“Dora” Remus says lowly, looking around as the word must draw attention yet no one is looking their way, instead they're looking at some members of the order pointing their wand at Timothy Greengrass

“Lower your wands there is a brief truce” Kinsley commands to which their wands are reluctantly put away “You try anything and Imean anything, I will not be as understanding” he warns

Timothy nods wearing a thankful smile as he walks deeper into the hall. Eyes searching the room before the fall on Fred, making his way towards him quickly to ask if he had seen you when he sees your body laying there

“No” he whispers to himself, eyes widening and not caring about his knees as he hits the stone floor beside you “What happened?” he looks around but mostly towards Fred looking beyond worried

“She saved me from being hit by the wall but a shard of glass was embedded in her side”

Fred glances at his family, few seemed between sympathetic at Timothy and surprised you saved him, Remus evening wears a tiny twitch of a smile. Yet the ones he wanted to be wore no such thing. His mother and twin’s expressions remained hard, although they did waver a little upon hearing the first half

Timothy's face is still painted with worry “Will she be okay?” he asks, relaxing when Fred nods

“She saved your life?” Bill is the first to speak, most level headed as he wraps his arm around Fleur, holding her close to him

Fred nods “She did”

“Why?” George asks a little sharpy

“Because she loves me” Fred answers like it was obvious

Again his elder brothers and Remus seem soft towards it, like they can believe it, his father does as well but he remains neutral due to Molly who scoffs along with Tonks and George. Ginny seems somewhere in between and partially in her own world, her mind most likely preoccupied in worrying about Harry

“No she doesn’t. She broke your heart and ran off to join the death eaters. Since then I have watched you for the last two years mope around over her. She’s a traitor Freddie...please” George pleads like he thinks he doing the right thing but it only makes Fred upset

Fred shakes his head “She isn’t” he says shortly “Neither is Timothy” he adds, earning a grateful smile from the boy as he holds your hand, thumbing circles in it to comfort you but mostly himself

“You’re mad” Tonks states “They’re traitors plain and simple, you’re just blinded by your misplaced affections”

“No” Fred glares at her “They’ve been…” he stops himself, glancing at Timothy who nods, letting him know it's alright to tell everyone now “They’ve been working undercover”

She scoffs along with Molly who seems to only be quiet due to Arthur's hand in hers, while George’ head tilts and the rest of the weasley, plus Remus, listen carefully

“Undercover?” Tonks crosses her arms looking sceptical, while his mothers is closer to disappointment “Didn’t feel that way when their other little friend came after me and your younger brother”

Timothy grimaces at them mention of his late friend, more so at the question thrown towards him

“Where is he anyway?” She looks right at him “Almost killed us along with my crazy aunt”

Timothy sighs, heart aching “He…he didn’t make it” he looks away from them and to you

Remus watches the boy carefully, as does Fred’s elder brothers, Fleur and Arthur, all noting the grief and how he holds your hand just that little bit tighter. Tonks however flushes slightly, guilt beginning to swarm her stomach as she thinks back to the blasting spell she sent his way before she and Ron used the port key

“Who knew you were undercover?” Remus asks calmly, recognising something he felt all too well in the boy before him

“Sirius knew we were to gain info in our final year, but when he died Dumbledore and Mad-eye sent me, y/n and…Joe uncover. Our mission was to imbed ourselves along with Snape, feed the order information and when the time came, turn against them”

“You caused the death of my father” Tonks interjects “If you were really on our side why would you…how could you...” she can’t finish, trailing off but the boy understands what she’s asking

“I’m sorry about your father. Truly. It’s something I can never forgive myself for, nor do I even deserve it for playing a role in it, and I’m so, so sorry” he says so genuinely they all believe it, at least on some level “Not that it helps but Greyback…” Remus grimaces at the name “…the one that murdered him, won’t be hurting anyone else ever again”

“He’s dead?” Remus asks, eyes wide and lips parted

“Yes. I checked myself when he fell during mine and y/n’s tussle with him…but then I lost her in the chaos that ensued afterward. The other snatchers in his pack sought revenge ya see” Timothy explains and Remus looks like a weight has been lifted off of him “There’s no proof besides Fred and of course Snape's knowledge with Mad-eye and Dumblerdore dead. But if me and y/n were being honest we have no idea what Snapes mission really is...was? He was always so...cryptic. We had no idea he would kill Dumbledore, nor that we would be forced to fight against you all in the battle of the potters, or work with the snatchers and that monster”

They all nod slowly, taking the information in while George turns to Fred whose now moved to sit beside you once more, taking your other hand and stroking your cheek gently

“You knew the whole time?” he asks and Fred turns to his brother, his whole family and his friends awaiting his answer

“Just after Sirius’ death and before she 'turned', she sat me down. Explained the mission and everything she had been doing at Hogwarts while we were all off playing hero with the DA. After which she offered me a choice. She could obliviate me or I could remember but never tell anyone”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!” his mother finally speaks up “You could have gotten yourself killed!” Arthur wraps his arm around her, rubbing her back to try and soothe her nerves

“I know but I didn’t mum” he answers simply, calmly, a stark contrast to his usual demeanour and it makes his mother listen “I love her, really love her. She’s the bravest person I’ve ever met” he turns to Timothy “As are you, and of course Joey” he turns back to the other while Timothy smiles “They were the ones leaking information, information that saved more than we lost. They risked everything to help us even after Mad-eye died and they were all on their own, merlin they all were forced to get the dark mark…” his eyes trail down to it, fingers glazing it

“She might have been lying” Tonks says but her voice is softer, less angry than she was before

“Maybe but I believe it” Percy states “I believe you” he says meeting Fred’s eyes

“So do I” Remus adds, earning a quizzical look from Nymphadora before she says a quiet ‘Me too’

“Me Three” Bill winks

“Four” Fleur adds cuddling into her husband

“Five” Charlie says with a nod

“Six” is from Arthur

“Six and a half” Molly grumbles lowly, earning a small chuckle from the small group

“Seven” Ginny smiles

“Eight” George finishes “I believe you” he kneels down next to Fred taking his hand “I always believe you” his head taps his twins

“Thank you” he says mostly to George but then turns to the others "You won't regret it, believing" he smiles and they smile back

Your whine however brings his, and Timothy's attention back, their grips on your hands tightening while the rest of the small crowd step back and sit among themselves, except George who stays by his brothers side and Remus who takes a seat on Timothy's other side

“Y/n love?” Fred calls softly as your eyes flutter open

“Yeah?” your head turns to him, not really aware of your surroundings just yet

“You had one job future Weasley” he scolds lightly and you giggle

“Well if you had done yours I wouldn’t be in this predicament” you clap back before your eyes widen

“What?” Fred asks but your already sitting up way too quickly, side stinging but you couldn’t care less

“Tim! I need to find him” you say trying to stand up when the boy your looking for places his hand on your shoulder stopping you

“I’m here” he assures you “I’m alright, I'm okay”

You sigh in relief, leaning into him a little bit “I couldn’t lose you too” you breath out

“You didn’t…you haven’t lost either of us sunshine” he gives you a smile and then looks toward Fred

Your boyfriend smiles back at the boy before his focus returns to you “We’re keeping our promise don’t you worry love” his nose nudges into your hair

Timothy lets go of your hand then, letting Freds arms engulf you as your head buries itself into his chest “I love you” your murmur so only Fred can hear

“Love you too” he whispers as he pulls back, digging into his pocket and bringing it out just enough for you to see “I’ve carried it everyday. And when we win I’m going to give it back ask you something very important” he tells you

Your heart flutters “Yes” you whisper to which George, who could totally hear everything, lets out a small smile

“You’re supposed to let me ask first” Fred scrunches his nose at you

“Freddie it’s been a yes since we were 17” you inform him, placing a sweet kiss to his lips

“What’s going on here?” Ron asks approaching with Hermione, both staring at your and Fred as you part

“Y/n’s injured” Remus answers for you

Your head whips around to him, surprised “Hi” you whisper, wincing at the idea of how disappointment he must be in you

“Hey” He gives you a warm smile “He’d be really proud you know…I’m proud” he tells you, eyes a little glassy

You nod, heart warming as you turn back to Fred and Timothy, both helping you stand up as they know there would be no stopping you from continuing the fight

“I know she’s injured” Ron replies a little mumbly “I mean why is everyone okay with her...and him here” he motions to you and Timothy, Hermion nodding next to him

“Y/n and Timothy have been working as spies little brother” Bill states, the whole clan turning to look at two thirds of the famous trio

Hermione and Ron look at him baffled, and then eye you and Timothy for a second. They have questions, of course they do, a boat load in fact but their was no time for that right now, their were more pressing concerns

“Has anyone seen Harry?” Remus’ face instantly pales “He went up to Dumbledore’s office but he never came back” Hermione asks, looking concerned as her hand finds Rons

“You don’t think he turned himself over do you?” Someone asks, and while everyone looks at each other in a quiet worry all Remus can think is that’s exactly what James would do

Thank you for reading ♡ I will fix some of the links up top tomorrow morning xx

#fred weasley and reader #fred weasley and y/n #fred weasley and you #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #slytherin reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred and reader #fred x reader #robynsrequests #robbiesocs #golden era

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expectopatronum81 · 9 months

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One of the arguments against Snape ( and in favour of the marauders)that bothers me the most is this one:

" The fact that Snape is the only one who despises James while the rest of the cast speak highly of him really tells you about the kind of person James was "

First off, NO

Secondly, ABSOLUTELY NOT

Idk how many of u have actually seen/ experienced bullying, but I always thought it was pretty well known that not all bullies look like ur typically intimidating roadside gangsters. Most bullies, at least the ones I've seen, tend to have a pretty solid relationship with authority figures, even being the ones most trusted/ favoured by them. They're often popular and very well liked by the general masses because they've found confidence in their abilities earlier than most teenagers, and fit into the conventional standards of beauty or being cool.

Now, because they tend to be well accepted by their peers, they make the victim of their tactics to be the oddball, something inherently unlikable coz they're different, while in reality, they're just not there yet (which is why they alone see the worst side of the bullies, they're the only ones who know what it's like to be prey to the bullies' most cruel tendencies.)

This perception of the victim is accepted by the rest of the peers, who are either trying to fit in themselves, or saving themselves from similar treatment, or just happen to believe in this too, because well, why wouldn't it be true if it's coming from the 'IT' group.

In my view this is exactly what happened with Snape and the marauders. Was his ambition to become a death eater and his interest in the dark arts a reason for the bullying? Yes, we have canonical evidence for it. Was that the only reason for the bullying? Absolutely not, we have canonical evidence for that too.

And besides, making such claims is literally gaslighting the victim, aka Snape. This is another thing which typically happens, PPL go 'oh it's no big deal, it's just a joke!' while only the victim knows the true depth of their pain, and the fact that entertainment gained from their humiliation certainly wasn't very funny for them.

Now, i wanna make something pretty clear. I wholeheartedly despise Severus Snape as a character. However, that does not mean that i ll ignore or downplay his trauma to uplift my favs( yes i do love the marauders and Sirius happens to be my fav character in the entire series). I sincerely hope that anyone spewing this argument is just trying to justify their liking for their fav fictional characters, and doesn't hold this opinion on bullying in general.

#harry potter #severus snape #bullying #pro severus snape #anti marauders #anti james potter #anti sirius black #anti remus lupin #anti lily evans

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notti-stellate · 3 months

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James Potter Fluff ABC's

a/n: I started this thinking it was a good way to get back into writing but boy was I wrong, this took me like three hours so I was like ready to be done by the end. I really hope you guys like it though! 🌌

A- Attracted (What does he find attractive about you)

James is obsessed with absolutely everything about you but if he had to pick one thing it would be your laugh. There’s practically nothing he wouldn’t do just to hear you laugh, especially when it’s because of him (you’re just fueling his ego here babes)

B- Body (What is his favorite part of your body…not like that you nasties)

James absolutely loves your lips, the way they fit so perfectly against his or the way they curve upwards when he does something impossibly stupid just to see you smile. His favorite part of himself is probably his hair or his hands, it’s honestly just whatever your favorite is.

C- Cuddles (how much of a cuddler is he)

There is nothing he loves more than to have you in his arms, it doesn’t matter who is holding who to him as long as he has you pressed against him for eternity. Definitely a 9/10 on the cuddler scale.

D- Dates (how often do you go on dates)

It depends mostly on what time of year it is, for example near quidditch season he doesn’t have much time between classes and practice so as much as he wishes he could take you on dates every day he just doesn’t have the time. After quidditch season though he generally will have a date every week, even going as far as to assign a certain day as date night.

E- Ego (how big is his ego, does it get in the way of the relationship)

He 100% has an ego, but it’s definitely well deserved. He’s the captain of the quidditch team, comes from very wealthy parents, and is famous around the school. Even with his ego he’s a kind and humble person, always willing to help others (except for Snape, nothing could make him help Snape). His ego could get in the way at first but after he sees it’s hurt you he’d swear to never let it happen again.

F- Fights (how often do you fight, how does he handle it)

Fights are rare between you two, James is so in love he’d take your side on most things just to make you happy. When they do happen though (maybe because he was stressed or one of you were just simply not thinking clearly) he tries to keep a level head, having seen things escalate quickly from someone being dramatic *cough* Sirius *cough*. God forbid he ever makes you cry, he might just rip out his own heart right then and there. Safe to say fights aren’t much of a problem in your relationship.

G- Gifts (Does he get you gifts, what kinds of gifts does he give you)

He sees getting gifts as an essential part of your relationship. It’s not always big extravagant gifts (although he does love to give you those too) he prefers the small things, like flowers when he picks you up for a date or your favorite candy when he sees it in the store. Please for the love of everything get the boy some flowers and tell him they reminded you of him, it may cause him to be reduced to a puddle though so be prepared.

H- Happy (what kinds of things make him happy)

I think the better question would be what doesn’t make him happy. One of the biggest things that make him happy though is you and his friends (of course). He adores all of you so if you can become friends with them too he’d probably never stop smiling.

I- Injury (how would he act if their loved one got hurt, how would he be if he was hurt)

James is very protective of you so depending on how you got hurt someone may be getting to the hospital wing with you. He’d be very doting, almost never leaving your side unless you needed something. If he gets hurt he’ll act all tough around his friends but the second you’re alone he’s acting as if he’s on death's doorstep, you should expect to have to baby him for at least a few days even after the injury has healed.

J- Jealousy (how jealous is he)

He’s not that jealous, sure he has his moments but he’s typically pretty sure of your love for him. It’s one thing if someone is just talking to you but if they touch you, that’s when he has a problem.

K- Kisses (how does he kiss you)

Your kisses are like heaven to him, if his paradise is your lips on his forever he’d be content to die right then and there. He leaves his own kisses everywhere, his favorites being on your lips but mostly your neck and shoulders. It’s become a part of his routine to kiss you before he leaves any room or space, and you better believe he expects you to do the same.

L- Love language (how does he show his love)

He has a mix of everything but he mostly loves quality time and physical touch. His favorite times with you have been when you’re just lounging around with him, not doing anything but being in each other’s presence and arms.

M- Mornings (what are mornings like)

He typically gets up rather early, whether it’s to go to practice or workout, he’s up and out the door bright and early. But on weekends he loves to lay in bed with you in the mornings, eventually getting up to make breakfast together.

N- Nights (how are nights with him)

Because James gets up so early on weekdays he doesn’t stay up super late, valuing his sleep but always waiting to go to bed until you’re coming with him. On the weekends though he usually drags you out with him and the gang, or you all spend time at someone’s place (You and James’ or Sirius and Remus’). Sometimes though he’s content to just spend the night with you, watching movies and getting take-out.

O- Open (when would he open himself up to you, how much does he open up)

Once he trusts you, James is glad to open up with you and values the time he gets to be vulnerable with you. That being said, he sometimes refrains from opening up because he doesn’t want to burden you. If you ever betray his trust it’s likely he will forgive you but he won’t open up anymore.

P- PDA (is he comfortable with PDA, how often will it happen)

He absolutely loves PDA, he’ll take any chance he gets to show off his girl to the world. If you don’t like PDA he’ll try his hardest to keep it to a minimum but there’s no promises.

Q- idk babes

R- Romance (how romantic is he)

Have you ever watched a hallmark movie, that’s how cheesy and romantic he is. He tries his best to be as romantic as possible, trying to replicate all the books Marlene and Lily have told him about. He’s not always the best at it though, but at least he tries.

S- Safe (how much does he value your safety, how is ti compared to his own)

Your safety is his first priority, it goes hand in hand with his protectiveness). He would gladly sacrifice his own safety for your own, no matter the circumstances or how many times you try to fight him on it.

T- Talking (how often does he talk about you)

Honey you’re all he talks about, it’s driving Sirius insane. You can’t blame him though, he just loves his girl/boy. He tells practically everyone about you, he even goes as far as keeping a picture of you on him at all times to show people.

U- Understanding (how understanding his he)

He’s learned to be very understanding from having Sirius as his best friend, so you can imagine he’s gotten pretty good at it. There’s somethings he doesn’t always understand but he’ll always give it his best, you’ve just got to help him sometimes.

V- idk again

W- Whole (does he feel whole without you)

The short answer, absolutely not. James’ two biggest love languages involve being in close proximity to each other, so much to Sirius’ dismay he has trouble staying away from you. The longest he’s gone away from you was five days and by the end he was sure he was gonna die if he couldn’t see you soon.

X- Xoxo (how affectionate is he)

I’m sure you can guess from what I said before but James is an extremely affectionate person. Even with his friends being affectionate is just how he shows he cares, giving them a hug when they win something or throwing his arm around Sirius’ shoulders.

Y- I was gonna do yearning but you can just reread the W section for that.

Z- Zzz (how does he sleep)

He’s typically a heavy sleeper, especially when he feels safe like when he’s around you. He can sometimes lose sleep over little things though like if you get in a fight or if you aren’t home yet. If you aren’t home when he gets to bed he’ll try to occupy himself with other things, knowing he can’t sleep if you aren’t with him.

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #marauders x reader #marauders #hp marauders #marauders imagine #the marauders #marauders era #james potter fluff

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ravenshavenn · 11 months

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Modern day muggle Snape headcanon

He would teach chemistry if he still needed to be a teacher but if not then I feel as though he would run a bookstore or work in a library while doing some strange science projects on the side

He'd prefer reading from books rather than technology like a kindle or his phone

All of the technology that he did own would be outdated as he simply doesn't care and prefers items the he knows the function of rather than the latest updates, he'd still be incredibly interested in all the latest advancements but wouldn't bother to purchase many himself

If he owned a car it'd be similar to his phone, computer, TV, ect with the fact that its old, dusty and kept to the bare minimum of cleanliness, he wouldn't leave rubbish in it and would tidy up after himself but it would still need a good hoover, dust and wash in order to be considered clean

Because of the modern day being relatively accepting of receiving help for mental health I'd like to think that as the smart man we know he is Severus would realize he needs help and with some encouragement from friends and family try and help himself

I personally think that he'd at least see a therapist or go to some form of grief support group as he feels more able to now that talks around mental health are more common and seen (by most) as a valid form of treatment

He's fascinated by YouTube videos discussing theoretical nerdy topics such as aliens, conspiracy theories and natural phenomenon not that he believes anything irrational, all his thinking is purely logic based but he still enjoys watching them regardless purely to think about the concepts

Along with this he'd also enjoy works of fiction like Sci-fi shows such as star trek, star wars or anything else that's typically considered "nerdy" but he prefers not to discuss it as is worried he'll be made fun of

There would also be an incredibly grumpy pet that he'd care for maybe a cat, lizard or some sort of bird, he'd have a sort of roommate relationship with it but when he gets tired he'd want to sit down and watch TV with it or it'd just sit on his lap while he reads

I feel as though with mental health support like therapy becoming more normalised Severus may choose to get help, as personally I think he's a smart person and in a

If there's one thing he hates its the concept of dating apps, how are you meant to trust someone you met online? They could be a murderer or the dark lord himself and you'd never know!?

He's also not a big fan of social media, he enjoys keeping up with all of his current fandoms and interests but rarely posts anything if at all, maybe just a few blurry photos of something he found funny like a strange looking cat or a picture of a cool science project he finished once and then he'd never post again

Music isn't something he's particularly interested in but when he does listen to it its normally rock, metal or something gothic but occasionally the odd bit of classical music if he wants to feel high status or is working on a project and wants music on in the background that won't distract him while he works

#snape #severus snape #pro snape #snape fandom #pro severus snape #professor severus snape #snape au #snape community #professor snape #snape content #snape fic #severitus #snapedom #pro severus #severus #snape headcanon #severus snape headcanon

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hayatheauthor · 1 year

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How To Create A Morally Grey Character

The term morally grey is now widely consumed by book communities across the web, especially by romance-based communities looking to talk about that one dark haired character with a tragic past. However, the sudden popularity of this term has caused a wave of misinformation and confusion amongst book communities.

Readers and writers alike have lost track of what does or doesn’t qualify as a morally grey character, which can pose as a problem for misinformed authors, especially during the marketing phase.

I previously penned a blog post with tips on how to write an antagonist, so here’s a similar blog for the morally grey characters.

What Exactly Is A Morally Grey Character?

Before I jump into my list of tips for writing a morally grey character, it is important to first clear the misconceptions surrounding this term.

A morally grey character is a character who cannot be classified as purely good or purely evil because of their actions throughout the book. They are the villains with a good reason for their crimes, the heroes who aren’t afraid to cross the lines. They are the characters who might start off as just another protagonist or antagonist but soon shift into this grey area that can often confuse readers.

Characters like Dumbledore, Snape, Regulus Black, and the gods in Percy Jackson, are all examples of a morally grey characters.

Do you know who isn’t? Sirius Black, Luke Castellan, Dabi etc. Mainstream media has taken certain clearly good or bad characters and slapped the term morally grey on them in order to add to their romantic appeal (which is why these wrongly classified characters are almost always male). However, when writing it is important for you to know whether or not your character is actually morally grey.

How To Tell If Your Character Is Actually Morally Grey

Need help deciding whether or not your character is morally grey? Here’s one thing you need to keep in mind to help you out—if they are morally grey, they cannot be good or bad.

Think back to that one character you chose to classify as morally grey. Take their backstory and personality and position into account, and now, answer one simple question—at what point in your book do they come across as morally grey?

If your answer to this is something along the lines of ‘oh he works for the villain but feels bad when he kills people and told the main character that he doesn’t like doing this’ well, then I hate to break it to you but that is not a morally grey character.

However, if this character ends up saving the main character from the villain, or gives intel to the protagonists, or does anything else that could be seen as good, then he is morally grey.

Things To Keep In Mind When Writing A Morally Grey Character

Now that you know what a morally grey character is actually like, here are some tips you need to keep in mind to write a good morally grey character.

Give Them A Reason

Morally grey characters typically have to betray or go against someone close to their heart in order to do what is right, or wrong. Whether you’re writing a spy who betrays your main character or an antagonist who relays information to the protagonists, it’s important for you to have a concrete reason for why your character is the way they are.

Was the organisation they initially worked for responsible for the death of their family or friends? Did someone close to them switch sides, causing them to follow? Are they simply gaining more wealth, power, or resources from the other side?

Saying they simply had a change of heart or switched sides for the sake of switching is underwhelming and will make your readers feel bored, causing them to lack the sense of empathy we often feel for morally grey characters.

It’s good to have a certain level of mystery for your morally grey characters, but you need to remember to flesh out their character so your readers can connect with them.

Create Obstacles For Them To Deal With

If you’re standing on no man’s land, you’re going to get hit with bullets from both sides. This especially applies to morally grey characters. Snape lived his entire life being defamed by those around him (possibly rightfully so), the Greek Gods were threatened, hated and almost killed by their own children.

You need to create obstacles for your morally grey characters that are a result of their actions. Maybe the antagonists find out they’re being betrayed by your character or your character is seen as a villain by the public even if they secretly helped the protagonists save the world.

Show your readers the consequences of your character’s actions. Show them how hard your character’s role truly is.

I hope this blog on how to create a morally grey character will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday.

Want to learn more about me and my writing journey? Visit my social media pages under the handle @hayatheauthor where I post content about my WIP The Traitor’s Throne and life as a teenage author.

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someonexsomeone · 9 months

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Fragile

Title: Fragile

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: The Triwizard Tournament is a stupid idea...until it brings George something he didn't know he was looking for.

Authors Note: Day 6!!! Wel...okay I know this didn't go up last week. I had to take a week off because, in true fanfic author fashion, my landlord sold the house I was living in and we needed to find living asap lest we go homeless. But!! We did it!! I haven't slept and I'm so stressed I cried when we got approved for a new house, so I wrote this as a reward for myself! I hope you guys like it! I plan to get the one for this week out tomorrow so next Thursday will be back on schedule!

Dumbledore had made many confusing choices throughout the years George went to school with him as the headmaster. Allowing teachers to pick on students was the first to come to mind, followed quickly by random last-minute points to change the winners of the house cup (Fred told him several times to let it go since they won, but there was something that always nagged George about it), but this year’s TwiWizard Tournament was, he had to admit, quickly climbing the list. His brothers never mentioned anything about it, and neither had their parents, so why suddenly bring back a death tournament when everything around them was already a reminder of the death awaiting them outside the castle walls?

“A way to bond us all together!” Dumbledore happily explained, a twinkle in his eye that George knew only from the same look Fred got when he thought he was doing something brilliant, and since Fred was typically a coin toss on whether was would be true or not, George wiggled his nose in distrust. “I want everyone to remember this is a friendly competition, no matter how serious it may get, so intermingling is highly recommended. Now, how about we give a warm welcome to the two new schools joining us this year!”

It was as full of bravado as George expected, each school expecting to out-perform the other with shows of magic and flips and who knows what else, with Hogwarts left to do nothing but a jovial karaoke of their school's anthem. And, who was George to deny the crowd the twin’s spectacular singing voices? The giggles from the people around them were expected, but some coming from the other two schools was a welcome surprise. George couldn’t help giving it that much more of a performance, just to please his adoring audience, eyeing some of the lovely students in pale blue as they huddled closer to hide their laughter from a disapproving headmistress.

Then came the announcement of how to apply to the tournament. Fred only needed to spare his twin a glance before they nodded, each imagining the large treasure at the top of the podium. After years of selling products, snatching things here and there from Snape and Sprout and pretty much salvaging anything from anyone, there was a lump sum hiding at the bottom of Fred’s trunk, hidden cleverly in a bag disguised as a dirty pair of underwear, that would help improve their operation tenfold, but this? This would do more than they would ever imagine. How many products would they be able to make? How many ingredients they could buy to refine plans they only dared to dream of? Dare say, even turn their production into something so much more than a traveling trunk of wonder? George hadn’t hoped to dream so boldly so quickly, but this would be worth so much more than they could make for the rest of their time in school! This brain was whirling with the plans they already made, and how quickly they could be made real. And then…heartbreak.

“It’s for your safety!” he heard Fudge say, though it was nearly incomprehensible over the shouting throughout the Grand Hall, the twins louder than anyone else. Outrage! They were near enough to the age restriction, and who was some new old wizard to come in and make these decisions for them? Thus, the scheming began.

Even though he believed Dumbledore to be a bigger ditz than not, he did know his magic was stronger and more refined than the average wizard. Alright, the above-average wizard. But this was worth so much more than a little scolding, and he had seen the hint of a smile on the headmaster's face whenever the twins were on the verge of getting in trouble for their pranks. He had a soft spot for troublemakers, Fred decided early on, and it allowed them to be bolder than they would have under a more watchful eye. Jokes on him, George concluded many years later, that his more lenient attitude made him and Fred nearly overly confident in their abilities, especially their abilities to get away with things that a normal person couldn’t even think of.

A mountain of ingredients was needed for an age-altering potion, even one as temporary as they were planning on making. Illegal? Maybe. But there were no laws against age-altering potions so long as they didn’t get in trouble while under its influence or force someone against their will to drink it. A short 5 minutes, and only a few months of aging? They had made pranks much more elaborate, and they had spent more than their fair share of time over a bubbling cauldron. All they needed was to get the ingredients and everything was as good as set, right?

Wrong.

The first few ingredients were the easiest. George, ever the good student, volunteered to help Professor Sprout water the plants the first years were studying. She was so frazzled, bless her, that she didn’t notice George take clippings from a select bunch of herbs on the opposite side of the greenhouse from where he was supposed to be. Fred was able to sneak a little here and there from their shared potions classroom, and they had just enough money saved up for an innocuous visit to the potion shop down in Hogsmeade. They had more than enough flasks and bottles saved up over the years to dry the needed things appropriately, and the house elves were more than happy to allow them use of a burner to bring everything to a rolling boil. Everything was set for the brewing, needing to happen on a waxing moon to ensure they wouldn’t age too much too quickly, but there was still one, tiny, pesky problem left…

“How in the bloody hell are we going to find a Lightsparrow’s Talon!” Fred was beyond frustrated, pacing the room in front of his brother. The two had commandeered their dorm room, their roommates besides Lee Jordan knowing well enough now that being around the twins while they planned would inevitably cause them to get caught in the crossfire, with papers strewn all around the room. Theories, replacements, and possible combinations filled each page, all with nearly illegible scribbles confirming their uselessness. “I should have just snuck into Snape’s cupboard during detention when I had the chance!”

“And risk trouble not even McGonnogal could talk you out of? You know he’s only locked down even more since someone else started stealing from him.” Fred huffed, finally plopping down on his bed. “Besides, we don’t even know if he has any. None of the upper-level classes are brewing potions with them, and the Matron doesn’t have any potions that require them.”

“So, what? We just give up?” George rolled his eyes. After years of failed experiments, Fred’s grouchy attitude was more than easy to ignore.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. I just think we need to get a little more creative.”

“But we’ve tried everything! That stupid library never has anything we actually need.” George just chuckled, walking over to his brother to give him a playful pat on the shoulder.

“Why don’t I go take another look before we give up all hope?” Fred huffed again, crossing his arms and slumping his shoulders like a child. “I haven’t reached the end of the Herbology section yet, and we have enough Swindlebrine powder for another go before the final product.” Fred looked at his twin once, before huffing again. A quick flop, and he was more or less laying across his bed.

“...fine. But, after dinner, we formulate a plan to take a look around Snape’s cupboard just in case.”

“Deal.” They shared a smile, George patting Fred’s leg this time, before ducking out the door. The easiest way to deal with Fred, before food was served, was either to distract him with a problem or let him rest. Sleeping, George found, was always the easier option.

Since the new students infiltrated the school, every time of day was absolutely bustling with activity. Between the end of classes and dinner, most students preferred to hang out with friends, meaning the hallways were empty besides the random groups that walked to and fro their destinations, and teachers were either tucked away in their offices to grade work or in their private studies doing their personal projects. It was the time of day that Fred and George found it easiest to scout out prank spots, and sometimes got as lucky as setting up the bulk of it to finish after curfew. Now though? George had to spin his body in every direction to avoid the constant stream of people. His height allowed him an advantage of seeing over most heads, but it also meant people were able to get extremely close and bump into him without any warning. After years of getting away with pranking people in plain sight with the help of a crowd, he was more alert than ever.

Just up ahead, a group of Hogwarts students were loudly arguing with a group from Durmstrang. About what, George didn’t even want to know, but it was making it incredibly difficult to get past. With a huff, one that would impress even Fred, he slipped into a nearby hallway, not nearly as bad as the main corridor, but he didn’t waste much time before making a few more turns. The good part of sneaking out past curfew was the ability to explore every part of the castle without getting distracted. He and Fred nearly had the layout memorized, but the secret passages granted them much easier access. The way he was walking would take him the long way to the Library, but it was filled with empty hallways courtesy of the tens of abandoned classrooms. The further he walked, the fewer people he could see and hear around him, until he came to a pocket with absolutely no one. On either side, the roar of students was ongoing, but the reprieve did George a moment to breathe.

If this was your school, George thought bitterly, you wouldn’t be treating everything so disrespectfully. Honestly! Who even told them that wandering around the school was a good idea?

“I’ve already told you no, Dennel.” George stopped still. Just around the corner, he could hear the shuffle of feet, almost like they were walking in circles. Vaguely, he thought he recognized the voice, but no face came to mind immediately.

“My Darling, don’t you know that saying no now will do nothing to help you later?” That voice he did know. George groaned internally. The other bad part of all the new students was the absolute influx of activity in the classroom, namely from a group of Beauxbatons boys that thought it was so fun to flaunt their power and wealth and knowledge, even if they were wrong more often than not. It was almost like having the worst combination of Hermione and Draco, multiplied by 5. The leader of their stupid clique? Luc Dennel, a prat in every meaning of the word. “My Mother has already sent the robes. Do you want to break her heart?”

“That’s why I’m giving it back. You have no right to speak for me or dictate what I wear.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” George leaned around the corner, peaking out just far enough to witness the conversation. With a start, he recognized you immediately. Although you only shared a few classes, George remembered you were skilled in the subjects you did share, and even went as far as helping those around you in spite of their magical school. At one point, you had even helped with some of his wand movement. His hand tingled in reminder.

“Get your hands off of me.” Dennel had you cornered in the hallway, positioning you so your back was to the wall with little room for escape. In your white-knuckled hand was a bag, no doubt the robes his Mother supposedly sent you, but above that, Dannel had his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly there was no debate on whether it hurt or not.

“Just submit to me already.” Dennel’s words were honey, but his tone sent a shiver down George’s spine. Not from fear, no, but from disgust. “It will happen sooner than you think. Why not just do it now?”

You were shaking. George could see even from his vantage point that your legs were on the brink of giving out, the grip on the bag the only thing keeping you from collapsing. A troubling burn whirled in his chest, the unmistakable feeling of needing to help someone bubbling to the surface. He could hardly remember the last time he felt this, though vaguely the image of Ginny shivering against him when people were accusing her all throughout her First Year of being strange for being so protective of her journal. His hand gripped his wand fiercely. He could hardly watch the way Dennel’s hand raised to touch your face.

“Surely the product in your hair didn’t make you deaf, eh, Dennel?” George rounded the corner then. Both you and Dennel jumped, whipping your heads to look at the unknown spectator to your conversation. George watched your shoulders deflate, from relief or embarrassment he couldn’t tell. George didn’t even flinch at the glare Dennel sent him. “Don’t you know it’s not very polite to corner unsuspecting people in a corridor?”

“This is none of your business, Weasley.”

“Oh? Apologies, I wasn’t aware you owned the hallway.”

“No, but I do own them. So, butt out.” In a single moment, before George could even wave his wand, your fist collided with Dennel’s face, sending you both flying with the grip he still had on your arm. George rushed over, pulling you from the floor and away before Dennel could recover. Your glare was fierce, but George could feel your shaking now as your body was pressed against his.

“No one owns me,” you growled out, laughing the bag at the body on the floor. Dennel recoiled as George flinched. Sympathy pains in this case, he hated to admit, always existed man to man, no matter who they were. “Not even you.”

George hurriedly pulled you along the corridor, away from his original target of the Library, to a hidden corridor. He winced once as the magical door closed behind him, hoping that after escaping that disaster you wouldn’t mind being alone in another low-lit corridor with a man just for a few moments in order to get you to safety.

“I’m sorry, I know you probably don’t want to be in this enclosed space. Just through here, though, will take you to the courtyard. We’ll be out quick, promise.” He tried to gently guide you, mindful of the painful bruise he could see already forming around your wrist, but you only managed one step before your legs gave out. George joined you on the floor quickly. “Woah! Hey, are you okay?”

He hardly knew what to do when you burst into tears, your entire body quaking with your silent sobs. His arms hovered awkwardly, too afraid to touch you but too worried to give you space. All it took was a gentle pat on your back before you turned, throwing yourself into his arms, seeking any comfort you could.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” George could barely make out the whispers between your chattering teeth.

“Oh, no, you have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured quietly. He took another moment, before wrapping his arms entirely around you, squeezing as tightly as he could to his chest. His back was aching with the effort to keep you both upright, but he tried to focus instead on quietly murmuring affirming words to you, watching as the candlelight flickered across the dirt walls in order to keep his breath deep and calming. Who knew that having a little sister that was terrified of everything would make him an expert in handling people?

The two of you sat there until your breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm, your body almost completely still, and then some. George continued his work, moving from reassurances to mindless chatter, just filling the quiet room with something other than your stuttering gasps of air, not letting you go for a moment. He worried you fell asleep for a second, before you gingerly sat up, rubbing your red eyes to get rid of any cloudy vision.

“I don’t normally do that, I promise.” George let out a startled laugh at your admittance, breaking the gentle atmosphere. You gave him a weak smile.

“I always knew Dennel was an ass.” This time you laughed, offering your hand to help George off the floor. Without needing the words, you looked each other over, whipping a smudge of dirt and a fleck of dust to ensure you both were clean. Well, clean as you could be after proactively cuddling on the floor. Your cheeks flared when you came to the realization of what you must look like to an outsider. You met George’s eyes again when he reached over and gently pat your hair down.

“Thank you.” George just gave you a smile.

“It was no problem at all.”

“Even if it means Dennel is going to be an insufferable ass to you now?”

“He already was.” That made you laugh again. George realized he really liked making you laugh. “What’s his problem, anyway?” At this, your smile fell. George felt like kicking himself. There was an awkward beat of silence. “You don’t have to-”

“He wants my hand in marriage,” you said at the same time. That made George gape. “Well, he wants my family’s business in order to save his, so marriage is what he’s set on now.”

“But…but he’s a Seventh Year! And you’re a Fifth Year! That can’t be allowed.” You rolled your eyes.

“Weasley. Surely you know of the old pureblood traditions. Fifth Year is hardly too young to arrange a marriage.” George just continued to gape at you. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to marry him.”

“Good!” Even George winced at how loud that came out. “I mean, good. He’s a prick.”

“A massive one.” Your smile was back. “So, is there anything I can offer my knight in shining armor for the rescue?”

“Rescue?” George huffed, taken aback. “You hardly needed the help with an arm like that.”

“Yes, I will admit, the punch was all my doing.” George laughed. “But most people would just drop me off somewhere near people and hope I was okay. You’re a special breed, Weasely, to sit with someone on the floor of a dirty corridor while they went through hysterics.” You cut him off before he could rebuke. “So, anything I can help the King of Pranksters with? I am in your debt.”

“That is a dangerous thing to say to me, lovey.” George’s mischievous smirk sent a chill down your spine. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to raincheck that favor. Unless, of course, you could get me a Lightsparrow’s Talon,” George laughed.

Despite the obvious sarcasm in his voice, you still responded, “Would a liquid form work?” That stopped his humor immediately.

“What?”

“Would a liquid form work? It’s the only type I have on me.” You rummaged through your pocket, producing a small bottle of…something that glimmered lightly against the candlelight. George wondered if he was going to have a jaw ache from the way it kept falling open.

“Where did you get that?!” Even as you held it out to him, he was frozen solid.

“It’s not in its purest form, but you wouldn’t need it to be anyway if you’re making a potion. If you mix in some snail secretion it should become tacky again without compromising the effects.” When he still didn’t take it from you, you waved it gently. “Well? Will it work?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“What? Oh, I brought it from home.” George gave you a funny look. “Liquid Lightsparrow Talon? Don’t you use it here as a cure for muscle and mental fatigue?”

“Lightsparrow Talon is extremely hard to get here!” It was your turn to look confused.

“The Talon is, yes. But if you gain their trust you can start a farm where they drop nearly all the time. The liquid form is a portion of the Talon ground down and liquified to make over a hundred doses per talon.”

“Is this common knowledge? How do you even know this?”

“The method is new, yes, but it’s been published hundreds of times over the years. The research team is based in France.” George smacked his hand against his forehead. Of course you would stop at E in the Herbology section, he thought miserably. If I had just continued for another row I would have answers for Fred by name. Your laugh pulled him from his thoughts.

“You’re pretty funny, you know that.” In a quick motion, you leaned over, tucking the bottle into his front pocket. His face flared red. “Let me know if you need anything else. The exit was this way, right…” Your voice trailed off as you made your way down the dirt path.

George felt his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

“Thank you, Dumbledore…”

______________________________________________________________

masterlist l What is Laufeyfest? l Laufeyfest masterlist

#george wealsey x reader #george weasley imagine #hogwarts imagine #harry potter imagine #laufeyfest #someonexsomeone #hogwarts one shot #george weasley one shot #george weasley imagines #george x reader #weasley imagine

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 7 months

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You've done what ifs where Aro or Carlisle swapped places with Dumbledore, but what if the protagonists swapped roles instead? Harry Swan and Bella Potter? How would that go?

Anon's referring to this post as well as this post.

Caveat That Bears Repeating

I've said this a number of times in these kinds of posts already, but the thing is that backstories matter. Harry and Bella don't just pop into existence, informed by nothing, they all have histories that lead them to where they end up in canon.

Bella has her parent's messy divorce, her alienation from her father, her irresponsible mother, as well as the socialization of being an American girl in the early 2000's.

Harry is an orphan physically and mentally abused by his surviving relatives, at the age of eleven he suddenly discovers that in a secret society he's bigger than the Beatles, he's a young British boy in the early 1990's who then is thrust into the wizarding world culture.

My point is that as much as I can theorize what Bella or Harry would be like in the AU where Bella's now a British girl living in a cupboard beneath the stairs and Harry's now living with Renee, it's just me handwaving and guessing.

I really don't know with these things.

With that said, we can try.

Bella Potter

We'll say the Dursleys pull the exact same shit with Bella as they would Harry. I imagine Bella's almost New Moon levels of depressed at eleven.

She thinks she's ugly and is purposefully made so by her relatives (given bad haircuts, clothes that don't fit, probably Dudley's castoffs making her look more tom-boyish and less 'cute' than what might be acceptable), she's told her parents were drunks and losers, and her family despises her and thinks she's stupid and a waste of space.

I imagine Bella often contemplates whether it'd be better if she'd never been born in the first place. Where Harry reacted with anger, I imagine from what we see of canon, Bella crumples in on herself.

Then she discovers she's a witch, that weird scar on her forehead that she always tries to cover a sign of her defeating You-Know-Who, and that her parents were wonderful people.

Bella waits for the other shoe to drop, for people to realize she's a phony, that she's not cool, special, pretty, or anything any of these people seem to believe she is based on nothing. Worse, Bella would want to come clean, but she doesn't want to lose any of this.

Hagrid is treating her nicely, on the train that boy Ron genuinely seems to like her and think she's cool and interesting, she has friends and people think she can do things.

Bella's terrified of being found out as a fraud which makes her more nervous than Neville in trying to use magic (especially in Potions where Snape mercilessly bullies her and thus makes her even worse than she otherwise would have been).

However, this gets in the way of typical Harry adventures, as Bella to the best of her ability keeps her nose down and out of trouble (as then everyone would hate her again). As a result, she doesn't save Hermione from the troll, Ron eventually gets bored of her and thinks of her as another girl, she doesn't go after the Philosopher's Stone or later involve herself with the Chamber of Secrets debacle.

Voldemort gets the stone offscreen (likely eventually able to get through the enchantment on the mirror) and is able to resurrect himself at which point Bella is terrified as everyone's now expecting her to do something about it.

"I am twelve?" Bella asks, then cries because she's not a magical princess like everyone wants her to be.

Harry Swan

Where Bella is depressed, Harry is angry.

Harry's not happy about moving to Forks but it was made clear he didn't have much choice. He's very bitter with Renee about this and bitter at Charlie in general for being an absentee father. He's ready to take on the whole school, gossiping all about him he's sure, and spit in their faces.

Unlike Hogwarts, as he doesn't want to be here and doesn't have good preconceptions, it's the equivalent of him being told he's going to Malfoy Boarding School in Malfoy County, to a place where he's sure to hate the people and they're sure to be looking for any weakness. (Remember, Bella did not at all have a good perception of Forks or its people).

He, in fact, immediately does so just to make sure they know where he stands. Yeah, he knows his mom ran off, what about it? I imagine he gets in a fist fight with Mike Newton on his first day, Harry is labeled a delinquent.

He catches a look at the Cullens and thinks they're rich freaks and weirdos who moved to this nowhere town. Charlie is at his wits end with Harry and utterly unsure how to deal with him as most the kids in town don't make this kind of trouble.

Unfortunately for Harry, he catches Edward's interest, unfortunately for Harry, with his outspoken anger and bitterness he's not Edward's type.

There's only two doors for someone with the smell, Edward takes the door labeled "eat me, I'm delicious".

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #harry potter #anti harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #meta #headcanon #opinion

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dufferpuffer · 24 hours

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Can I ask what your Sirius Black Sex headcannons would be? I read your Snape and Lupin ones, and they were written SO well!

Oh my god I wrote a whole thing out and I was proud of it and then the draft vanished Sirius Black is hard for me (heh) because he doesn't live in my skull, he just visits from time to time. He's a dear, always brings a gift... Sometimes he does the dishes.

...That's exactly who he is: A dear. Thoughtful, kind, sweet... far more genuinely than Remus, who tries hard to please others. Sirius only does what he wants to do. He isn't a doormat, he isn't proving himself, he isn't trying to impress - he just exists as he is. That's all he has ever had to do. He's always been 'good enough' for the people he cares about - and the people he doesn't care about he ignores. His heart is an open book. He expresses his true emotions brazenly. He faces all issues head-on. You always now what you're getting into with Sirius Black, because he will make it clear. (In comparison: -- Remus Lupin lies. He wears mask after mask to hide how he feels. He avoids dealing with altercations - even if it means letting things he thinks are wrong happen. -- Severus Snape is naturally much like Sirius - but it has been crushed. He has closed his book and holds it close to his chest. He has learned to hide the emotions he doesn't want to display under masks. He still faces issues head-on, but he has learned the value of sometimes waiting and watching to make the best move.) So he is genuine. He is honest. He can be as serious as he is playful. He is wise, too - he has experienced true suffering just as he has experienced true connection. He fights on behalf of other people, even at severe cost to himself - and he doesn't back down. Mix that in with being tall, handsome, a little dark but incredibly sweet - and all the manners of being raised in a Pure-blood household, with none of the pointless formality... People often think he is more flirtatious than he actually is. He isn't flirting when he sits down and listens to your troubles, holds your hand and sympathizes, looks you in the eye and lists the good qualities he sees in you - despite only knowing you a short while. That's just who he is. He is the sort of man people emulate when they are trying to impress others. He suffers for that, as people think he is being fake and manipulative. He is 'too perfect' for his own good lol

He charms people by being himself, they lust after him... and when they realize he 'didn't mean it' they get insecure and blame him. ...Romantic/sexual relationships are such a hassle... It's difficult to actually connect to someone when you're known for being a 'heartbreaker'. It's hard to feel confident in yourself in that way, when people assume you have mountains of experience you don't actually have. He isn't typically an insecure man at all, but... How does he express interest without it seeming fake when his natural honesty feels fake to others? He has always been 'good enough' at everything - and yet at 35 his experience in this one area is still in its adolescent infancy. How do you portray sincerity when you're always sincere? He's semi-sworn off the whole idea. It's not something he seeks out. Sexuality wasn't something he missed much in Azkaban. He missed genuine connection more - he values friendship above all else. A dementor at his door at all times - he didn't have strength to dream of anything as grand as touch... he was too busy dreaming of basic comfort. (The desire for intimacy/romance with someone is perhaps the only thing he would mask and hide. He has more important things to do, after all... no need to complicate things with heartbreak. But he isn't good at masking things. It eats at his soul.) If he were to engage with someone they would already be close, already special, already understand him. I'm not sure if he even CAN feel attraction to someone he isn't already loyal friends with. What does this mean for intimacy with him...?

He agonizes over 'doing it right' when he confesses desire. He isn't usually like that, he has never worried about studying for tests or impressing people - but he NEEDS to get his point across when it comes to this. He doesn't shy away from extravagant displays of love- he thinks they are fun. 100 bouquets on Valentines day? Hilarious to give OR to receive. But a confession? That's not fun. It's serious. He doesn't know any other way to emphasize his earnestness, to PROVE he is sincere, other than to go BIG. He will back out last minute if 'the vibe isn't right'. (It's not lost on him that extreme actions might have the opposite effect, and it's probably best to just take them aside and speak heart-to-heart... but it is hard to trust that will be enough when he is always speaking to people heart-to-heart.)

He is touch-starved. Once he is allowed to touch someone he is clingy. His hands are ALWAYS somewhere - preferably on skin. Holding hands, resting atop your shoulder, on the small of your back, wrapped around your waist, holding your hip with his fingers gently feeling inside your shirt or in the top of your pants... It doesn't matter how many seats are free on the sofa, he is leaning against you, putting his arm around your shoulders or seating you on his lap, or sitting on YOUR lap. He looks like he is being overly protective, and maybe he is a little - but he values touch. Even as a dog. He will lay down and snooze while his tail wags softly against your leg - or flop his head on your thigh and beg for pats...

...That leads to intimacy just being a part of daily life. He doesn't differentiate much between cuddling on the couch and having sex on the couch. To him, sex is less of its own special activity and more of an extension to other activities. That takes the pressure off of him to perform, too. He knows he is inexperienced - and there's no expectations if its just a cuddle that happens to include his dick or ass. He is a switch.

But he DOES perform. He does everything he can to make sure you are satisfied even if it means his own satisfaction is neglected. If he finishes too fast because he struggles to hold on: He will keep going until he is physically unable, then switch to his hands or mouth to try and finish the job. If he struggles to finish because he is too used to his own hand or its just something he struggles with in general, depression and PTSD is a bitch: He doesn't even care. He will stop when his partner has had enough. He is emotionally satisfied by their satisfaction. Blue balls don't bother him anymore, not after everything he has gone through.

...Though he will never turn down being pleased, if its offered. It's just not a priority. But there is something special about having a mouth on his cock. Something about being able to look into someones eyes while they warm him and show him affection. (You'd think a 69 would be perfect, and he does like it - but if he is giving pleasure he wants to be able to focus on it fully. He prefers the focus simple oral allows. Also he is tall, and unless his partner is also tall this can lead to problems.)

He is so good with his hands. He becomes good at everything, because he is dedicated to learning - a good kisser, good at oral, good at fucking - good at being fucked... Every encounter is a chance for him to practice. But his hands... he doesn't just touch, he feels. Holding hands is an intimate experience because he enjoys it so immensely. He savors every texture, every bump and blemish a precious treasure. Just feeling along your body is enough to make his breath shudder. No matter what else he is doing, sexual or not, his hands are feeling and stroking and gripping and enjoying. He is very familiar with them, having spent 12 years staring at them. After only being able to perform magic with his fingers rather than a wand. After only having himself to hold and pretend someone was here to comfort him.

He gets off to enthusiastic consent. He might push the envelope sometimes 'come on, Darling... you can take a bit more for me...' but the moment he feels like his partner is uncomfortable he doesn't get a dominating power kick - he gets concerned. It would take him a long time to warm up to anything that includes discomfort, even intentional discomfort.

He cant stand wishy-washy shyness. Someone being meek, who needs him to do everything, unsure about things... (He couldn't stand Remus. Even if he understands why Remus acts this way - it squicks him out.) ...He doesn't want to feel like he is taking. He wants to give.

The biggest betrayal in his mind is to be lied to. He cannot understand why so many others aren't as open and honest as he is. "Why didn't you tell me you didn't like that? Why did you pretend you did?! 'So I wouldn't feel bad'?? well I feel WORSE now!!!' Putting on a fake smile is the biggest insult he can imagine. He is being honest every single day of his life - and his partner is hiding their thoughts and feelings from him?! He is very patient and accepting. It doesn't matter the kink, fetish, desire, exploration, secret or issue - if his partner is open with him about it he is happy to try. He is happy to talk it out.

He is Poly. It's rare for him to like someone, and he is too loyal to ever cheat - but he is open enough with his feelings that if he DOES happen to like someone else he will say so. Having two or more people to cuddle with? At the same time OR separately? He literally can't think of anything better. That goes the other way, too - if his partner likes someone else he is the first to jump in and suggest they go for it. Champion Wingman. Even if he isn't a part of that second relationship. As long as he is loved and understood - he wants his partner to be happy. ...This doesn't help his image of being a flirtatious playboy. But anyone who thinks that doesn't matter as much to him as his partners, or his partners' partners.

He hates being bored. Being bored brings up memories. Being cold brings up memories. Being alone brings up memories. It can be difficult, locked in a big empty cold lonely house where every wall seems to hate him... He'd rather have sex than be bored. It's better than booze - though drunk sex sounds like an adventure! Since sex is an extension of other activities for him - he inserts it everywhere he can when things get quiet. It's entertaining AND fuels his desire for touch. He loves a good quickie. Leaving a meeting to use the bathroom...? He's right behind you to push you up against a wall, just because it seemed like a fun idea to sneak around.

Is this accurate...? It's how I see him, at least. Sirius Black genius' are welcome to confirm/correct/deny/expand.

#sorry for how long this took i guess #seriously there was a power outage while it was open and it DELETED EVERYTHING #I was so pissed #I'd typed it up on a txt document and had JUST deleted it there after putting it in Tumblr and formatting only for it to DISAPPEAR #sirius black #hp #headcannons

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seriouslysnape · 10 months

Text

The Noise and the Silence

Severus Snape x Fem! Reader

Tags: Angst. Depression. Grief.

A/N: Okay soooo I typically don’t do this, and I try not to...but this is a one-shot from my Hannibal Lecter blog (I am INSANE, I know) that I have remastered for this blog. Here is the original work. It’s quite literally the same thing...but I thought that this idea would fit so well for Severus. Please do not roast me.

Word Count: 2.9k

“I just....I just don’t know what to do.”

The pounding in your ears hadn’t stopped for weeks. The constant, repeated thud of your heartbeat playing in your head had been relentless. It was a loud drum, and if you sat unoccupied for too long, you would catch yourself beginning to count each thump. Oddly enough, there was another sound that seemed to be in competition with the steady booming of every rush of blood to your head.

It was the loudest of sounds, and a noise that you did not welcome with open arms. It was a silence so loud that it was close to painful. The ring of utter nothingness was beating away at your mind space to the point of near insanity. It seemed that had been your world for the last several weeks. It was either boisterous chatter, or complete emptiness.

To be honest, you weren’t quite sure which one you preferred.

Today was a silence day. The moment that your eyes had opened from your night of restless sleep, you knew what kind of day it was going to be. The silence days were different from the loud days. The silence days were slower, and they were much hazier than the loud ones. Silence days meant you were functioning on autopilot.

Everything that you did was purely muscle memory and basic functions that your brain had signaled every day of your entire life. There were no out of the ordinary or special tasks to switch up your day-to-day life. Silence days meant existing, but just barely.

The few words that you spoke on these kinds of days were hardly even comprehensible to your own self. The little conversations that you were able to have with others was forgotten and lost just as quickly as it was had. It disappeared into the fog that clouded your consciousness. It was drowned by the sea of anguish that flooded your veins.

The loud days were different. Your awareness level was a tad higher, your conscious just a bit clearer. There was some variety in these kinds of days. This meant getting up early and spending the entirety of the day running errands and completing a list of missions to check off your to do list. Many of these tasks were pretty meaningless. Just filler activities to kill time and take up space.

Loud days meant pushing yourself as far as your physical energy would allow. The “go go go” attitude kept you on your feet without rest. As long as you were busy and occupied, then it was a loud day. It usually ended with you crashing at the end of the day with hardly feeling accomplished in any way.

Your world had become so quiet, yet so roaring. Your life was categorized as feeling nothing and feeling everything all at the same time -- and it was a lottery system as to which one you were going to get.

This wasn’t you.

This was the furthest that you had ever strayed from yourself. You were so distant. You were a shell of yourself.

The person that stood before your loved ones was merely an imposter. A stranger had infiltrated your body and was maneuvering it like a worn out puppet. They had all reached out to you, offering their love and services to assist you in whatever you needed. Some of them had been shocked when you pushed them away, while others were unsurprised.

You didn’t want the help. You refused it, in fact. So, there wasn’t much else they could do outside of leaving their offer on the table free for you to take.

Severus was the only one that you had welcomed to stay, but even then the invitation was hardly obvious. It was hard to see the light in front of you when every bit of your had succumbed to darkness. His efforts had been persistent. Again and again he held his arms out to you, and each time you had turned him down.

There was a battle between the noise and the silence, and you were caught in the middle of this tug-of-war. You had been drained of emotional and mental energy long ago. At this point, the opposing sides were fighting over a ghost of a human. Severus had watched you crumble and fall apart in the last several weeks. There was very little spirit and soul to be sought after at this point. At the end of the day, the winner would really have a whole bunch of nothing.

That was what Severus was most afraid of.

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he was worried. He was terrified that you were close to having nothing left to cling onto. He feared that you would have nothing to build yourself back up with. Once you were completely chipped away, there was no coming back -- and that would be the end.

It didn’t help that Severus was a chronic worrier, and anyone who knew him personally knew that he had a tendency to be anxious…particularly when it came to the person he cared about the most.

But other times, he was pretty cool and collected, which made sense that he had all kinds of things that needed to be kept under wraps.

But this was a different kind of situation. You were a part of his life that was disconnected from the more secretive parts. You were the light that shined over the darkness, so in a way, he felt like he had a right to be concerned. He knew that you needed time and space. He had given you as much of it as he possibly could’ve without seeming as if he wasn’t there for you.

In the beginning, he had been there for every initial breakdown, meltdown, and sob fest that you erupted into. Looking back on it, that had been the easy part. He had comforted you as a lover, and guided you through the emotional storm as a man who empathized with you. He stayed up many sleepless nights with you when you couldn’t settle down enough to fall asleep. He soothed every sense of panic and anxiety with ease.

He had not once taken the curt words and the lack of any kind of affection personally. The distraction of your heart was clear to him, and he knew that your reluctance to offer him any kind of attention was not intentional.

He wanted to do nothing more than support you through this process. He was there for you at every step of the initial impact, and after a while, he thought that you were getting better.

He observed you carefully, never once letting himself get too comfortable. The intense emotions ceased, and you began to somewhat return to a day-to-day routine. Suddenly, you weren’t reacting or talking about it at all. Your demeanor had completely shut off from the life that you had around you. It was as if your brain had stopped processing the incident completely.

And that was when he knew that you were actually getting worse.

He partially blamed himself for your deteriorating state. He had dealt with this sort of mental fragility before. He knew the signs, and he could identify them from personal experience.

He found himself wondering if there was something that he could’ve done differently. Was there something that he could’ve said that he didn’t already? Had he not utilized enough of his attentiveness and patience? All kinds of questions had crossed his mind, and none of them had been answered.

He knew that dwelling on what he could’ve done then would only get in the way of what he could do now. He had to do something now, or else he feared he’d lose you completely.

****

It was a bitterly cold February night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had been an abnormally frosty winter, which was alarming considering that the winters were already very wintery. Despite the frigid temperature, it hadn’t deterred you from taking yourself to the dock of the boathouse by the lake to sit in the open air.

The school had been your safe zone for all these weeks that had gone by, but now it was beginning to feel more like a nest of misery that you had created for yourself.

The boards were cold underneath you from where you sat. In all honesty, you had hardly even noticed it. A little chill wasn’t going to rattle you enough to matter.

Your attention was focused on the inky black canvas painted above you. It was dotted and speckled with glittery stars from one end of the horizon to the other…and the water in front of your painted a picture to match. It was the clearest night that you could imagine. There wasn’t a single flaw or imperfection to taint the night sky that you were so infatuated with. In any other time or circumstance, you’d find joy in this scene in front of you.

But not now.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for in that sky above you that seemed to be rolling over you. There weren’t any answers to your questions bouncing around up there. In reality though, you really only had one real question. Over the course of your life, you felt as if you had never gotten a good answer to the age-old question of “why?”. It’s the simplest, yet most complex question in the universe of human language. It seemed rare that anyone ever had a satisfying answer for it.

You hadn’t gotten any real answers or resolutions yet, and tonight was proving to be no different. Just another silence day had come to a fateful end. Nothing had changed. Everything was the exact same.

You exhaled a long breath -- the kind that sank your shoulders to their lowest physical point. The rush of air that escaped from the depths of your lungs was transformed into a white condensed cloud that dispersed into the environment just as fast as it had formed. Sometimes you wished that would happen to you. Exist for a moment, and then vanish into nothing. Nothing lost, and nothing earned.

Your head lowered behind your knees that were bunched against your chest. Just your eyes and the top of your head were visible from the bundle of a shell that you had made for yourself. Your lashes fluttered each time you blinked, and every time that your vision returned upon reopening your eyes, you were met with the same starry sky.

There was a brief commotion from the behind you. The footsteps of a person approached from behind, and they were familiar to your ears that were now cut with sound again. You knew those heavy, slow footfalls anywhere.

An immediate rush of warmth and security flooded your senses when a blanket was wrapped around you securely, covering any exposed skin on your body from the harsh wintery cold around you.

“Darling, it’s freezing tonight,” Severus remarked. “I would hate for you to fall ill.”

An extra layer of warmth was added when Severus joined you in sitting at the end of the dock. His body heat was much more than yours as his radiated to you through the thickness of the blanket. It was greatly appreciated, because you hadn’t realized how cold you had actually become.

“I’m okay.” You returned without offering any more of a ticket to a real conversation.

Severus didn’t mind the quiet. In many scenarios, he preferred it. His introverted nature thrived off of it. Silence allowed time for self-reading and understanding, which he was all for.

However, he didn’t like this silence. This silence wasn’t the good kind.

His legs were folded under one another rather than planted on the boards. His lanky legs would be too crammed if they were bunched up at his own chest. His hands were clasped together in the open space of his lap, his forearms resting on his thighs as he scanned over the view in front of him.

The landscaping of Hogwarts always looked so depressing during the winter months. But in its own way, it was beautiful. It was typically blanketed with snow and ice, little flurries and snowflakes fluttering from the gray skies.

His vision didn’t remain on the landscape long, however. His sight eventually diverted to you, which was what he was more interested in.

He saw the way the stars twinkling above reflected off of the glassy sheen over your eyes. Those very same stars above were the ones that he often described as being trapped behind your eyes with the way that they stunned him when he looked into them. It hurt his heart to know that it had been far too long since he had seen those dancing stars in your eyes. He missed that.

He missed you. He wanted you back.

“I know that reminding you of this isn’t necessary…but darling, wishing on a star won’t change what happened.” Severus’ words cut through the still beats that had passed and disappeared into the past.

His voice wasn’t cruel or unsympathetic. Just the opposite actually. He knew where you were right now, and what you were feeling.

“I know.” You answered, the hurt dripping off of your words.

The desperation for relief to be delivered to your heart was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life. It was a pressure in your chest that damn near made it impossible to focus or feel anything else. It was so beyond uncomfortable. It was inescapable no matter what you did to try to get away from it. It had seeped through you and over you to the point where you weren’t even sure who you were anymore.

How were you supposed to live like that?

“No one in your life, including myself, expects anything from you right now,” He went on once he got the sense that you were warming up to talking. “No one expects you to be okay. It’s a plain statement, but it’s all right if you’re not okay.”

He knew that you weren’t okay. Everybody knew. Severus never wanted to tell you (or anyone for that matter) what you should feel. He knew that you needed to figure it out for yourself.

Because that’s where real, fruitful healing came from.

“I feel so confused....amongst other things.” You confessed.

“Understandable. You’re navigating a rather bewildering path.” He encouraged you to keep talking.

He wanted you to get better. He wanted to see you thrive and be the happiest that you could ever be. This was the first time in the weeks that had passed that you sounded like you wanted that too.

“I just....I just don’t know what to do.” You answered with full transparency, a crack sneaking into your sentence as you turned to look at him.

Tears had formed and come forth in your eyes. It hurt him to see it, but in a way it was a relief because he knew that you were feeling something.

“You don’t have to know. It’s more than okay to take each day minute by minute,” He shifted closer, taking a bit of an initiative to wrap his arm around you and pull you into him. “But this? When you keep it to yourself, it only makes it worse and pulls you down with it.”

He was right. You knew it. You weren’t going to get better by not dealing with it at all. Moving on without attempting to patch the wound would only come back to haunt you later. You wanted to do this right. You needed to do this right.

“I feel too far gone. I don’t know if I can ever feel okay again.” You admitted, double lines of tears streaming your face as they left a stinging chill on your cheeks.

“You can. You absolutely can,” He encouraged, even a little bit desperately. “I know you can.”

That statement brought a sound out of you that Severus had been longing for so dearly. As weak as it was, hearing you laugh brought a firework of joy exploding into his chest.

“You have far too much faith in me.” You joked, and he returned a smile.

“I have to disagree. I have just the right amount,” He said. “I’m here for you. Just say the word and consider it done.”

“I want to be here for you in whatever way you wish. Just say the word and consider it done.” He said.

Your first request actually surprised him a bit. He had expected you to play shy and turn down his offer or even ask for more advice. Instead, you asked for something much sweeter and much needed.

“Kiss me?”

And kiss you he did. It was the most uplifting, comforting kiss that he’d ever given you. It spoke a thousand words and pumped him full of more hope with each passing second. You were going to be okay. You’d be happy once again and you’d be stronger than you ever were. He’d be back to throwing flour on you when he cooked meals and chasing after you around his house dripping wet and naked after you stole his towel from the bathroom counter.

Life was going to return to the way it was. He was going to be able to love the woman that he loved so dearly even harder now. You were going to come back to him. He had all the patience in the world waiting for that.

Because you were worth everything.

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