282. Luna and the ravenclaw door knocker were BEST friends. Luna could, and would, chat to the knocker about her creatures for ages, and if it knew, the knocker would tell her where the nargles hid all her clothes.

requested by @dice-gobliny

You’re Trouble

Based on this request: would you write a fic where reader is a known troublemaker and since draco is a prefect he gives her detention or random punishments all the time. she keeps pranking him and he keeps assigning punishments adding fuel to the fire but eventually they realize they’re just making excuses to keep seeing each other ? <3

Here you are! I do not own ANY HP characters. They belong to Rowling.

Warnings: A little angst, Draco being Draco, Fluff.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

You were a known troublemaker. You always had been. It was part of the fun in life for you. Plus, now that you were older, it gave you an excuse to spend a little time with your favorite prefect. Draco Malfoy. It was simply fun to rile him up a little. When you did, he typically gave you detentions or assigned some random task for you to do. Since he never took House points, no one ever said anything about it so you simply kept on never realizing the real reason behind your mischief.

          “Again, Y/L/N?” Draco asked and you could hear the exasperation in his voice. You merely shrugged and grinned. “Aren’t we getting a bit old for childish games? Detention,” he stated before walking away. You had to admit that hurt. Normally, he would at least sit and talk with you for a while, even if it was a lecture of some sort.

          That was the first time that had happened, but it wouldn’t be the last. You did your best to get his attention with more and more elaborate pranks. Instead of the banter you’d gotten used to, Draco simply gave you detention again. You were getting fed up with the change in his attitude. So, you decided to keep ramping it up until the day Draco finally snapped.

          “That’s enough Y/L/N! I don’t know why I even bother with you. You aren’t worth the trouble. Detention. For a month. And twenty points from (Y/H).” Without giving you a chance to retort, Draco walked away, his school robes billowing out behind him due to his speed. You felt your bottom lip begin to quiver. You knew Draco had a quick temper and didn’t always think before he spoke, but that was harsher than anything you’d ever heard from him. It hurt. Instead of following after him the way you usually would, you made your way to your dorm.

Draco’s POV

          Draco laid on his bed staring above him. He couldn’t believe he’d yelled at you. Yes, your pranks irritated him, but he knew that wasn’t the reason he’d lost his cool. For the last few months, Draco had been slowly coming to realize that he had feelings for you. He loved interacting with you. He enjoyed your playful arguments and giving you detention as an excuse to pop in and check on you so he could talk to you. It was odd, he knew, but it was literally the only way he’d been able to spend time with you.

          For several days, Draco avoided you except to make sure you made it to detention. The first time, you looked at him with such a look of betrayal that he couldn’t hold your gaze. After that, you wouldn’t even spare him a glance. By the time your month of detention was up, you’d not spoken a single word to him. Draco hated to admit it, but he didn’t like that. Not one bit. He also didn’t like that other people, particularly Blaise, were starting to notice his change in mood.

          “You know, I heard from one of her friends that she’s been a mess. Crying every time she sees you. Not to mention, she hasn’t pulled a prank on anybody since you yelled at her.” Draco did his best not to flinch at Blaise’s accusation. Of course Blaise had heard about what had happened. But surely he also knew that Draco hadn’t meant it?! He hadn’t realized his words had hurt you that badly.

          Blaise gave his friend a knowing smirk. “You know, she sees right through your act. Go talk to her. She’s probably down by the Black Lake. From what I hear, she spends a lot of time down there.” For once, Draco was thankful his friend was so popular. Blaise knew the comings and goings of just about everybody. Draco didn’t even thank him as he bolted from the room to find you.

          Just as Blaise had suspected, you were down by the Black Lake. In fact, you were actually standing in it, the water slapping gently against you as you leaned down presumably hunting for something. Your shoes and long socks were neatly placed on the shore, though not far enough that they weren’t getting wet. “The point of removing your shoes is to make sure they don’t get wet. You know that, don’t you?” Draco asked, causing you to spin around and drop whatever had been in your hand.   

          You glared at him. “Yeah well, Professor Snape asked for an assistant to help gather some Gillyweed. I figured I’d do it so maybe my next detention with him will be a bit more pleasant. What are you doing here?” Draco let out a sigh and told you he wanted to talk. You laughed humorlessly. “I’m not sure I want to speak to you, Malfoy. Last time wasn’t exactly cordial.” Draco winced a little, grateful you weren’t looking at him any longer. When he didn’t respond, you scoffed a little.

          “Get in here.” Draco blinked in surprise. “What?” You stood up, faced him with your hands on your hips, and repeated yourself. “If you want to talk, you need to help me. So, get in here.” Draco stared at you before placing his bag down (out of the path of the water) and removing his shoes. You went back to what you were doing while you waited for Draco to join you.

          As soon as Draco was in the water, he felt himself relax a little. He could see why you would come here to feel better. For a few minutes, the two of you worked in silence, the only sounds being the water lapping around you and the voices of students drifting toward you. When the silence finally became too much for Draco, he stated, “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

          “No, you shouldn’t,” you instantly replied before continuing on, “But I forgive you.” Draco’s head whipped in your direction in shock. “Just this once. But if you ever say something like that again, I’ll plant Boggarts everywhere and you’ll never know when to expect them.” Draco’s eyes widened. Seeing his worst fear every single day when he least expected it? No way was he going to upset you again.

          “Out of curiosity, why did you yell at me like that? You’ve never done that before.” Draco felt his face heat up and was certain it was red all the way to the tips of his ears. “I…look, I’m not good with this kind of thing, alright? Father always says this sort of thing isn’t meant for Malfoys. Even he and Mother didn’t love one another when they married. It was arranged. I don’t know how to handle whatever it is I feel.” Draco continued to ramble for a moment while you gaped at him, opening and closing your mouth like a fish.

          “Wait!” you cried a minute later and Draco stopped so you could speak, “Are you saying that you…like me? As in, more than a friend?” Draco laughed at your expression. “Is that so hard to believe?” You rolled your eyes. “Please. I happen to know that I’m quite the catch. I just didn’t think you had enough good taste to see it.” The teasing tone in your voice made Draco smile.

          “Now, help me with this and I’ll let you take me on a proper date once we’ve cleaned up a bit,” you told him with a smirk on your face. Draco smirked as well before leaning in to kiss your cheek. You turned your face to say or do something only to be interrupted by a stern voice.

          “MR. MALFOY! MISS Y/L/N!” You both turned to see Professor McGonagall standing there, staring at you over the rim of her glasses. “I expect you to set a better example for the younger students, especially a school prefect. Don’t let me see such a display again.” She walked off without another word.           For a second, neither you reacted. Then you smiled at Draco and said, “Quite the troublemaker, aren’t you, Mr. Malfoy?” Draco let out a chuckle as he bent down, pretending to search for more Gillyweed. As you leaned to join him, he sent a wave of water splashing in your face. “Oh, you’ll pay for that, Draco!” You splashed him back, starting a water fight that landed you both in detention.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for. I know I changed it a little)

Forever Tags: @brewsthespirit-blog@fizzyxcustard@sirkekselord@aikibriarrose@lady-of-lies@motleymoose@dark-angel-is-back@esoltis280@stories-by-shanna-p

Harry Potter Tags are open!

Who Do You Choose?

Based on this request: Hi, thank you so much that’s so nice of you!! Made my day ahha. In my dr I can never choose between Oliver wood or Fred Weasley, so if you could write a one shot about a love triangle between those two that would be so fun. You could choose whoever you want to end up with reader, I would prefer it to be a surprise. I really don’t mind about gender or house or anything, I’m okay to leave that up to you. I do always picture Fred and Oliver as bad boys but I can’t wait to see who you come up with!! Thanks again :) xx

Here you are! I do not own ANY HP characters. They are, unfortunately, the property of J.K. Rowling.

Warnings: Angsty, mentions of injury…open ending?? I think that’s it.

Pairings: Fred Weasley x reader x Oliver Wood

If someone had told you that you would end up in a love triangle with Oliver Wood and the cutest (in your opinion) Weasley, Fred, you would have laughed in their face. After all, what did you have that others didn’t in order to catch the attention of both boys? And yet here you were sitting between both Gryffindors in the Great Hall as you talked excitedly about the next Quidditch match.

It had taken some convincing, but you simply couldn’t choose between the two boys so you and they agreed that you would sort of date both of them. That way, you could take your time deciding who you clicked with more and neither boy got his feelings hurt. You knew that you would eventually have to choose, especially since you were in your final years at Hogwarts and would be moving on to your future careers. But for now, you enjoyed every moment you had together with them.

“You’re coming to the match, right Y/N?” Oliver asked. You nearly rolled your eyes. Quidditch was Oliver’s one true love besides you of course. “I’d never miss the chance to see my boys in action. Of course I’ll be there,” you stated. Fred beamed, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pulled you a little closer so he could press a kiss to your temple. Of the two, Fred was far more openly affectionate that Oliver, who simply gave you a quick squeeze before pulling Fred away from the table to get ready.

Later that day, you sat in the stands, ready to cheer on your boys, as well as the rest of the Gryffindor team. You weren’t obsessed with Quidditch the way Oliver was, but you were always happy to be there for him and Fred. You watched as Oliver blocked pass after pass of the Quaffle and Fred smacked Bludgers away from other players with ease. With every play, you got more and more excited. At least, until it happened.

Fred sped over next to Oliver, whacking a Bludger away and causing Oliver to lose focus for a moment. The Quaffle hit him dead in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He caught the ball, but lost his balance. “OLIVER!” you cried as he fell from his broom. Your scream caught Fred’s attention and caused him not to notice the Bludger heading toward him. “FRED! LOOK OUT!”

Luckily, Fred was able to sped away quickly and the Bludger missed. Your heart was still beating hard against your ribcage as you forced your way down to meet up with Oliver and Fred. You could hear Madame Hooch scolding Marcus Flint for his obviously malicious throw. “Are you okay?!” you asked, trying not to get hysterical. Oliver had taken worse hits, but the fall scared you. You couldn’t lie.

“You worry too much,” Oliver told you through a groan. You glared playfully at him. Fred was at your shoulder a moment later. “Yeah they do, but that was quite the fall, Wood.” You glanced at Fred. “Are you okay?” you whispered and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders with a cheeky grin. “Course, love. Takes more than a close call to keep me down.”

The two of you helped escort Oliver to the Hospital Wing, where Madame Pomfrey promptly shooed you away. Even Fred’s charm couldn’t persuade her otherwise. So you waited. You knew you were being overly paranoid. After all, Oliver had taken a Bludger to his head during his first match ever. If he could stand that, a hit with a Quaffle and a fall should be okay…right?

“You’re really worried, huh?” Fred’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. There was an edge to his tone that you hadn’t heard before. Jealousy, maybe? “Yeah, I suppose I am.” Fred nodded, his eyes riveted on you. You asked him what he was thinking.

“Would you react the same if it were me?” You blinked in surprise at the question. “Of course I would!” you answered immediately, “Fred, you know I care for you! Just the same as I care for Oliver!” Fred held up his hands in surrender and apologized. You let out a huff and sat down next to him. He took your hand in his. “What brought this on?” you asked him in hushed voice.

“Things are changing. Wood is leaving soon, you’ll leave the year after, then me the year after that. I think that, eventually, you’ll have to choose.” You stiffened next to him and he continued, “Think about it. You’ll be out there with a job and freedom, while Wood will be playing professional Quidditch and I’ll be stuck here another year. You will have to choose one of us…or neither.” Fred then left you alone with your thoughts.

Deep down, you knew he was right. You just wondered why he started thinking about this so suddenly. Had someone said something? Had he and Oliver been talking behind your back? Was he thinking of leaving the relationship first? Or was Fred truly jealous and had hidden it well until your reaction to Oliver’s injury? You didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. What you did know what that you didn’t want to choose, but you also didn’t want to hurt either of them.

Fred was sweet and charming. His mischief always made you smile, even when you were the victim of his pranks. They were harmless after all. You got on with George alright too. Fred had already introduced you to his family and you adored them. Fred made you laugh, always up from the next thing no matter what it was. Bonus points if it could get you both in trouble. Fred kept you on your toes and was openly affectionate in a way Oliver wasn’t.

But Oliver? Oliver was kind and caring. Even if he didn’t show affection in public, he loved to be near you all the time. When you were alone, he loved to cuddle. And he was passionate about so many things besides Quidditch, like he was really good at defensive spells and charms. He was protective without being overly so. He liked to talk about the future with you while Fred wasn’t sure what the future would bring yet. Both boys were two sides of the same Galleon and you loved both of them. And yet, Fred was right. You would eventually have to choose. So, dear readers…who do you choose?

(a/n: I couldn’t choose an ending! So, you get to choose!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard@brewsthespirit-blog@sirkekselord@aikibriarrose@lady-of-lies@esoltis280@motleymoose@stories-by-shanna-p@dark-angel-is-back

HP Tags are open!

The golden trio but they’re cats

I love Cats

To left to right: Hermione, Harry and Ron

sirius, remus, marlene and dorcas would be marauders era stans & lily, james, peter, alice and mary would be golden trio era stans

ron weasley is underrated. the entire world could love him and he’d still be underrated.

gryffindor´s quidditch girls

our boy Harry James Potter

MASTERLIST

HOGWARTS

Fred Weasley

idiot | f.w.

talk too much | f.w.

Draco Malfoy

a lady and a boy | d.m.

daddy issues | d.m.

CRIMINAL MINDS

Aaron Hotchner

the best profiler in the room | a.h.

Spencer Reid

chess | s.r

Hermione: I’m here to bail out Harry and Ron.

Deputy: Full names?

Hermione: You must be new here.

some sketches of Astoria and Daphne Greengrass

a pair of Slytherin sisters, Astoria and Daphne Greengrass

Astoria, Ginny, Luna and Cho having a sleepover

inspired by and made for the lovely @transsscorpius ilysm <3333

i’d like to thank both @itseatyourdamnapplesand@lost-in-the-shelves for helping me flesh out some future plans of make them gold (read here)! i got this idea for how i wanted part three to go and i wasn’t sure if it would be interesting to read, if it sounded right as a plot, and all that jazz! and they were both super helpful about it, and they were very kind, and i just really appreciate them!!!

Death Eaters : We’re holding you for ransom!

Ron : Oh no

Harry : How much is the ransom?

Death Eaters : 500.000 galleons

Hermione : That’s absurd!

Y/n : Yeah! That’s absurd!

Y/n : Can you raise it? I’m worth so much more than that

Ron, Harry, Hermione, Death Eaters :

!

the masterlist->part one

summary ✰ it’s the night of the slytherin bash, and, intoxicated, you almost blurt out all your relationship troubles to pansy and the boys of slytherin.

tags ✰ @partr1dge<3

word count ✰ 3.4k

content ✰ alcohol,weed, rip. mill’s hairbrush, a big party, drunk/high people and reader, mentions of sex, mild(but just as serious) sexual assault, boyfriend being pushy, arguments, gaslighting,guilt-tripping, pansy lowkey admiring the reader and vice versa, pansy taking off your makeup for you.

a/n ✰ yes we’re having a lil party moment right on shedyool <3i think i made draco too hot in this like have i forgotten this is a pansy fic ?? and i’ve been listening to the playlist on repeat for some inspiration but now all the songs are stuck in my head yikes… anyway, happy reading :))

letting out a short yell, you bolt out the way of millicent bulstrode being chased by her own hairbrush in your dorm room, falling backwards onto your bed, then leaning up on your forearms to watch in amusement as she squeals.

“stop it, stop it!”

pansy crosses her arms, leaning in the doorway for a moment before speaking calmly despite the urgent situation, “mill, i already told you not to try any beautification spells for tonight. they take a certain finesse that you clearly…” she eyes the hairbrush, which has somehow grown teeth, “lack.”

daphne fervently attempts to throw millicent’s wand to her, having lost her own somewhere in the room, ducking whenever the hairbrush swings too low by her head and yelling encouragement to her as she wails.

“it’s gonna bloody eat me!”

you glance over to pansy, your lips quirked but still fighting the brighter grin that tries to force its way upon your mouth, one brow raised. she looks back with a smirk, raising her brows lazily, then pulls out her wand at last.

sure, you have yours, but come on! this is quality entertainment.

muttering a spell under her breath, the hairbrush rises, letting out a sharp, plasticky sound, teeth gnashing at the unknown force which has suddenly halted its rampage. then, thin, dark cracks begin to show upon its surface as it travels higher and higher into the air, finally letting out one last high-pitched sound before exploding into hot pink shards of plastic onto the wooden floor of the room.

millicent makes a lacklustre attempt of trying to catch certain pieces that are still falling, whining about how it was her favourite hairbrush. daphne drops the wand and falls back onto her duvet, exasperated, and you watch ahead in shock.

“blimey, pansy, couldn’t you have just done ‘finite’?” you ask, eyes wide.

“’s not nearly as much fun,” she grins, bounding over to the large, dark oak wardrobe in the corner of the room, “now, ladies. what are we going to wear for the slytherin bash?”

“i bagsy y/n’s black dress!” daphne pipes up, bouncing to sit cross-legged on her bed.

“no, you bloody well don’t!”

you look in the mirror of the vanity, tucking back a few strands of hair out of your face and looking down at your silky emerald dress, the neckline dipping a little at your chest, the straps thin.

“whatever, i actually might look better in the green, anyway.”

slinking out from the bathroom, daphne fixes the button on the back of the dress she’s wearing, the black fabric clinging to her skin, “you definitely do.”

“you’re just saying that to keep my dress, aren’t you?”

“maybe so. but you’re still very pretty.” she pecks your cheek and sits on her bed, fixing her curled hair in a compact mirror and swaying slightly to the thumping music already playing downstairs.

pansy pulls at her dress, leaning onto the vanity and applying a thin coat of red lipstick over her lips, looking at you through the glass “she’s not wrong. you look nice.”

you swallow, blinking at your reflection. you’ve brushed your brows, applied some blush, and a little smokey eyeliner, but nothing much. you don’t mind letting your skin breathe a little, anyway.

“thanks, pansy.” you eye her loose, sparkling, red dress, neckline dipping so low on her chest that you feel the sudden need to look away, instead focusing on her light-green eyes which never actually ceased intensely tracking the movements of your iris. “so do you.”

“right. thank you.”

millicent finishes tying her hair up, avoiding using any muggle products and therefore resorting to something simple, clipping it back with a claw accessory, “okay,” she starts, and you and pansy quickly look away from each other, “so, are we going or not? can’t be too late, they’re still missing the life of the party!”

“mill, you pass out after three hours during almost every single party.” daphne blinks.

“what’s that saying, here for a good time but not a long time?” pansy snickers, zipping up her black boots.

millicent rolls her eyes playfully, crossing her arms. “shut your gobs, the two of you! now let’s go!”

locking the door quickly on your way out so you won’t have to deal with any arseholes doing it in your bed like last time (well, at least they were having a whale of a time), you bid goodbye to your dormmates who all part ways, immediately grabbing a bottle of firewhiskey from a large table in the corner, looking over at the youthful atmosphere suddenly claiming such a place as the slytherin common room.

pouring yourself a shot, although you’re awful at doing those, you hold your nose (as if that’s going to help) and gulp down the alcohol, finishing by setting the little glass down and placing your hands on the table full of drinks in front of you, hair falling down into your face.

feeling a hand on your waist, you tense and stand up straight, not relaxing much when your boyfriend kisses your cheek and whispers a ’hello’ into your ear.

“ben!” you exclaim, turning around and smiling at him, though not genuinely, “i didn’t know you were coming.”

“some guys in the year above invited me, unlike my own girlfriend.” he teases, gripping you by the waist and pulling you closer, and your nose scrunches at the sharp stench of beer on his breath. putting two and two together, considering how he’s slurring his words, you realise he’s already tipsy.

“right, sorry!” you genuinely are, though if he hadn’t showed up, you wouldn’t mind much, “i didn’t really find out until the lesson before my free hour, and, well, you wanted us to go to your room, so —”

“oh, yeah. how could i forget?” he leans in, almost stumbling over his own two feet as he gets even closer to you, pulling you to him by your waist and kissing your neck, making you push your head down a little. the party having only just started, people are still piling in and the lights aren’t turned off just yet.

you push him by the chest, gently, “it’s still early, benny. not now.”

ignoring your wishes, he nibbles at your neck, and you bring your shoulder up in discomfort, “but don’t you want a repeat?” no, you really don’t.

“ben, just, back off, please.” you push a little more firmly now, shaking him off, and going to grab the bottle again to pour yourself another shot of firewhiskey as an excuse to not stay so close to him. but clearly that tactic isn’t great, because he pushes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.

“come on, this party’ll be lame anyway. your room’s empty, right?” you freeze as his lips meet your throat once more, swallowing before finding it in yourself to stretch your shoulders back, and push his arms from your waist, quickly pouring the shot and keeping it in your hand, just in case you need to spill it on him as a distraction.

if he’s gonna be pushy, he could at least be decent in bed.

well, at least, that’s your cynical view on it.

“ben. no. my — my friends are here, and i… i don’t want to leave them all alone.” you fiddle with the shot glass in your hand, brows furrowed, and he exhales loudly before shrugging his shoulders.

“if you don’t want me then you could’ve just said so.”

your eyes widen, “no, i didn’t mean it like that, just that… just not tonight.”

“well, it kinda seems like you’re not interested. but whatever, y/n, it’s fine.” as you try to reach out to him, he walks over to his friends, and you lean against the table, gulping down the firewhiskey and wincing at the burn in your throat.

shit.

“come on, y/n! they’re dimming the lights now, i wanna dance!” daphne bounds over to you, dragging you by the arm before you can protest.

and you oblige.

two hours in, you’re tipsy, worn-out from all the dancing, yet still going back between the many students for more adrenaline. grinning as a song you love comes on, you regroup your dormmates in the crowd, grabbing them by their hands and all winding your hips to the beat, millicent giggling and falling over her feet, daphne tearing away from her boyfriend to join with a smile on her face. pansy isn’t very giggly when drinking, you’ve noticed. in close settings, sure, but in big parties like this, everyone so close, air hot, green lights strobing across the common room… she just dances. raising her hands above her head, swaying her hips, twirling her friends around by their fingers — it’s almost sensual. well, to anyone else. not to you.

pansy eyes you as you spin — the exhilarated grin on your face from being able to shrug off everything burdening you, everything weighing atop your shoulders. and she realises that she likes the shine of the strobing lights against your skin, your nose and cheeks gleaming, eyes a little bloodshot and chest glistening from all the alcohol in your system, and all the dancing. and when you and pansy finally get off the dancefloor to join the slytherin boys on the sofas, she likes the way your eyes tear up a little after taking a long drag from the joint that’s being passed around.

“this isn’t laced with anything, right?” you clear your throat to speak over the music, passing it back to theo, head dizzy. you watch the lights entangle themselves between little clouds of smoke, and wonder which cloud is yours.

“what do you think i am, a drug lord? no, it is not laced with anything.” he rolls his eyes, leaning back on the sofa.

blaise elbows him, looking at you and pansy who are both sitting next to each other, “don’t mind him — you know he gets bitchy when he smokes.”

“do not.” theo huffs.

“yes, you do.” draco deadpans, snatching the joint from his hands and inhaling the smoke, blowing it upwards from his bottom lip.

you chuckle, stretching to settle comfortably into the sofa and tapping pansy’s bare thigh subconsciously, to which she tenses, “i feel like nott’s always a bitch, regardless.”

“not wrong there.” theo winks at you, rubbing at his eyes. your head feels like it’s spinning, and you giggle again, leading blaise to do the same.

“what’s so funny, y/l/n?” pansy raises her brows nonchalantly, crossing her legs and studying you at her right. she’s taken the joint between her plump lips now, inhaling deeply for a second, then blowing it up into the air.

“think it’s the weed.” you giggle once more, eyelids heavy, leaning your head onto her shoulder — you two are much more friendly when a little bit intoxicated and high. more so you, than her.

draco leans back into the armchair he’s sitting in, looking over to the corner of the room and spotting your ravenclaw boyfriend drinking with his friends in the corner. and, being significantly less of an arsehole with something in his system, draco decided to be polite.

“how’s the boyfriend, y/n?” you chuckle at this, smiling softly and lifting your head up from pansy’s shoulder.

“myboyfriend is an absolute, grade O, cockhead.”

the whole group is still for a short moment, exchanging varying levels of shock and amusement, before turning back to you. draco speaks again, “is that so?”

“mhmm.” you nod lazily, as if your head is too heavy to hold up, pointing over at him from the other side of the room, “ben sucks. he’s awful. if i could, i would — well, i mean, i could, but if i really could, i’d —”

“right, i think that’s enough of that for tonight.” pansy takes the joint from between your index and middle finger, interrupting you and attempting to change the subject considering your tipsy and high state. she’s been through enough non-sober confessions in her lifetime to know best.

“no, i mean it. and it would be worth it if he would actually fuck m—”

“i said, enough.” pansy presses, trying to save you any embarrassment. being good enough friends with the slytherin boys of your year since you all first arrived, you know there’ll be no judgement or rumours spread around. but, still. better not to air out all of your dirty laundry, or whatever the americans say. well, that’s what ’sober you’ would say. and right now, you’re completely ready to confess how shitty your boyfriend is, to reveal the dialogue that usually only stays in your head.

“come on, pansy, the people wanna know.” blaise raises his finger to her, grinning. the boy loved drama; he wasn’t a sharer, but certainly a listener.

“i, the people, do not care.” draco raises his finger as well, slouched in his seat.

“and i, the people, say you’re not gonna let y/n humiliate herself. if she really wants to say this, she’ll do it when she’s sober.” pansy frowns, standing up and gripping your arm, passing the joint over to theo who was watching the scene casually.

“usually you love this stuff!” theo raises his arms lazily for emphasis.

“well, she’s my friend.” pansy gives him a blink stare.

”blah, blah, blah, parkinson.“ you slur you words a little, and she scowls, ”i’m ready to say it. ben rowen is shite in and out of the be—“

she muffles your voice with her hand, forcing you to get up and follow her to the dormitory calmly, as you attempt to yell through her fingers, instead practically humming. it’s not a messy, nor embarrassing scene – you’re at least sober enough to know better, and no one’s paying attention anyway, not with the beat of the music thrumming through the room, vibrating the floor beneath your feet. but you’re not sober enough to control your urge to break down and admit that you desperately want to break up with your boyfriend, even though you think you still love (the old, fake) him, even though you’re scared to break his heart.

seeing the scene from across the common room, ben strides over with a purpose, and the boys on the sofa snort at his actions. ”what happened?“ he tears pansy’s hand from your mouth (thankfully, you’re not wearing lipstick), to which she scrunches up her nose, clenching her jaw and glancing to the side impatiently.

”yourgirlfriend had a little too much to drink and smoke. she’s going to bed.“

”she can just stay with me.“ he seems over his annoyance from before. shame his annoying personality continues to linger, you think.

pansy eyes him up and down rapidly, grip still firm on your arm. there’s something about your boyfriend, especially considering your change in behaviour around him, that pisses her off. you’re looking between the two of them with wide eyes, considerably amused. ”no.“

”what do you mean,no?“ you notice now that he’s much, much drunker than before. the boys are still watching, leaning forward to hear over the music. well, theo and blaise are – draco gives the ’altercation’ a glance before setting his focus on the almost-finished joint between his fingers.

”i thought ravenclaws were meant to have an IQ of at least more than ten — no, means, i will not let her stay with you, she’s going to sleep it off.“ you look over to the sofas and give a look the boys, half-grimacing, half-grinning.

”listen, i’m the boyfriend here —“

”are you? because i don’t recall you ever being present the entire party.“

”what the fuck is that supposed to mean, i was just over —“

”with her, i mean. why don’t you go drown yourself in some more of that beer you obviously like so much,“ ’ouch’, blaise mouths, ”and i’ll take care of your girlfriend, who… y/n?“ you stop making frantic pointing gestures to the boys to ‘translate’ what they were saying since the boys couldn’t lip read, turning your attention to the people in front of you.

”yup?“ you shrug, tilting your head up at her, being just an inch or two shorter.

pansy closes her eyes, sighing, then shakes her head, feeling a little wobbly herself, ”nevermind. let’s get you to bed, huh?“ she shoots daggers at ben, whose nostrils flare as you’re guided to the girls dormitory. he goes after you two again, but is quickly halted when draco’s voice raises over the music.

”perhaps you should let them leave, rowen. just head elsewhere — don’t be an arse.“

ben sighs in exasperation, making his way to the group, but draco sticks his leg out through the gap between the armchair and the sofa on which you were just sitting, making your boyfriend stumble back.

”that wasn’t an invitation.“ draco deadpans, although the corner of his lip quirks up as he takes a sip of firewhisky and raises his brows.

instead of casting a quick makeup removal spell, pansy opts to lean you against the bathroom sink at a safe distance, using a cotton pad and cleaning off your eyeliner and any sweat or blush left on your skin. you know, just in case the spell doesn’t go well, and you end up being eaten by a magic cotton pad.

you close your eyes, gripping the cold sink behind you loosely as pansy wipes warm water over your skin.

”done.“ she nods, expressionless, as your eyes flutter open, easily casting ’incendio’ on the cotton and not bothering to watch as it crumbles into ash on the floor. she certainly has a flair for the dramatics, and you can’t help but think she’s picked it up from draco malfoy.

you look into the mirror to smooth down your hair, eyes bloodshot, lips swollen from the firewhiskey (and a little from when pansy pressed her palm into them). she tosses pyjamas at you, and you wobble a bit when they hit your side.

”change.“

”okay, sergeant.“ you snort as she shuts the door, clumsily picking up the shorts and sweater she’d thrown.

shrugging off your dress, you call out from inside the bathroom. ”why did you get mad at ben?“

for a beat, there was silence, until she called back. ”because he was being a 'cockhead’.“ pansy mocked.

”and why did you make me leave?“ you pull up your pyjama shorts, squinting down and trying to tie a little bow at the front, rather unsuccessfully, ”i was having fun.“

”well, you were gonna embarrass yourself, y/n. i only helped you out.“

after slipping on your large sweater, you peek your head out the door, seeing her tie her raven hair back into a tiny ponytail, most strands falling out due to the length of it (or lack thereof). she’d done a makeup removal spell on herself.

”you’re going to bed, too?“ you murmur, furrowing your brows.

”yeah, tired.“ she lies, sorting out her bed covers.

you bite the inside of your cheek before deciding to ‘confront’ her, “and, pansy?” her movements still, “i didn’t need help. they’re my friends, and i wanted to tell them —”

she turns around, cutting you off with a challenging look that makes you step fully into the doorway, “tell them what?”

you swallow. nevermind. maybe she was right to drag you out of the party. maybe she was right to have cut you off, instead of letting you indulge into your history and your barely-there sex life.

feeling like you’re being frowned upon by authority, you duck your head sheepishly and clamber into bed, glancing over to millicent who has seemingly collapsed onto her bed and blacked out.

“is… everything okay with you and — you and ben, though?”

“yeah. i don’t know what i was saying. he just pissed me off earlier and i started… talking shit.” you lie through your teeth.

“right.” she flicks off the lights with her wand, back turned to you as she sits on her bed, pulling off her dress and slipping into a big shirt. the lamp on your bedside table that she turned on beforehand faintly casts the room in a warm glow, and through the darkness you can see the pale skin of her back as she pulls it down. your eyes dart away, deciding to focus on the ceiling, instead, “and you’re really okay?” she turns now, and relief washes over you — relief that she didn’t turn sooner.

you eye her as she gets under her covers, propping her head up with her hand. you bury yours sideways into the pillow, wrapping the duvet tightly around your frame. “yeah. you?”

“yes, y/n. now, sleep off all that shit in your system. and lie on yourside, not your back.” you listen to what she’s told you plenty of time before, and lean over to switch off the lamp, the entire room pitch black.

“'night, pansy.”

“goodnight.”

12 Grimmauld Place (23/?) 

Pairings:Sirius Black x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black (post-Azkaban) x reader, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,663

Warnings: Torture, injury,

A/N: Ahh!!! Time to get excited I am finallyfinishing this damn story. I’m guessing there will be around 5-10 more chapters to tie up loose ends, unless I get a stroke of genius and continue the story lol. Thank you so much to everyone who still reads my stories and an extra thank you to everyone asking how I’ve been and taking time out of their day to think ab me, like UGH so sweet!!! Anywaysss lemme know what you guys think or if there’s anything you’d like to see/are confused about!

Masterlist

“Always were such a gossip,” Sirius teased, his figure slowly coming from the shadows, his wand out and poised.
“I think you have me confused with Cissy, always had trouble keeping those pretty lips closed,” Bellatrix returned, turning her attention towards Sirius.
“Yes, well, the pretty ones are always easier to remember,” Sirius said, slowly advancing. He didn’t dare look at you; the last thing Bellatrix needed to know was that not only were you Remus’ sister, but she could hurt Sirius just as deeply through you–almost a sort of two-for-one. It was a good thing he didn’t, for you were still seated, cradling your throbbing ankle.
“Just as shallow as always, I see,” she sneered, “It seems as though your time in Azkaban taught you nothing, cousin.”
“Back on the Dark Side, all loud and proud, and your precious Lord hasn’t even fully risen to power yet; seems as though you learned just as much as I did,” he threw back. Her face contorted in rage, and her words came out like a growl.
“He broke me out of Azkaban! He saved me! How can he not be what he once was, yet touch Azkaban–no, break Azkaban? No one has escaped from Azkaban, the precious prison where you filthy Muggle-lovers love to throw true witches and wizards like me!” she shrieked madly.
“First of all,Iescaped from Azkaban, all by myself, no Dark Lord pulling the strings with the dementors in league,” Sirius sneered. You held your breath as he spoke to her so brazenly. “And Good Godric, you are just as deluded as ever. He’s the one who put you there! You wouldn’t have even ended up in that godforsaken place had it not been for him! Neither of us would’ve been! Can’t you see that? You are only as important to him as what you can do for him. You are nothing to him. Can’t you see that?”
And then, the cave was filled with bright green light.
All noise ceased as the blood swam in your ears. A silent but surely blood-curdling scream to everyone else ripped from your throat, Sirius’ name leaving your lips as the pitch-black replaced the deadly green. You pulled yourself up against the bars, pain seeping into your screams as you did so, but you had to see he was okay; he had to be okay. The silence stretched on, Bellatrix’s enraged, heavy breathing filling the quiet. The feeling was seeping from your limbs, your knees on the verge of collapse, chest beginning to heave with angry, suffocated sobs.

“Oh, hit a soft spot, did I? Getting a bit touchy,” Sirius laughed suddenly. With a spring, he jumped back up, his hair bouncing with him. The feeling returned to your body like a tidal wave, and your knees finally gave out, but with relief. She hadn’t gotten him; he was still here and somehow going to save all of you.
From your spot on the ground, you could’ve sworn you saw a flash of a shoe visible from the light of the mouth of the cave, but a second later, it was gone.
“How dareyou speak of him like you know him! Like you understand him?! You know nothing!” she yelled, her voice rebounding off the walls of the tiny cave. “This is nothing like the last time. That was nothing but a blip in my Master’s grand plan. Your preciousfriends, ickle Jamesy and Lily with itty, bitty, baby Potter. All of them, they all meant nothing. Their deaths meant nothing. In fact, I’m told it was amusing for my Master to chase James as he fruitlessly searched out his wand, almost as amusing as Lily throwing herself in front of my Master’s wand, as if it would do anything at all. Stupid, stupidgirl–but really, what did we expect from a filthylittle Mudblood.”
And then, Sirius lost it. Flashes of every color burst from the tip of his wand spells flying left and right. Using your good foot, you pushed off of the ground and flew to the corner, covering Alastor and Circe, the latter balled in his lap, doing your best to shield them.
“You don’t get to say their names! To talk about them!” he shrieked madly, looking more and more like his cousin as he did so. “I’ll kill every last one of you!”
“I wish I was there! I wish I would’ve gotten to see my Master leech the very last drop of light from James’ eyes!” she shrieked, cackling as she threw her own defensive spells. Amazingly, the two hadn’t been hit yet, still throwing curses with as much gusto as before.
Idly, you wondered what had happened to her henchmen–shouldn’t this be the exact situation they were here for? Squinting in the darkness, you found them all strangely slumped over, dead to the situation around them.

Concerned for Remus, you next looked for him. Confused, you saw him working his way to a standing position, grimacing in pain as he did so. How was he standing on his own? Then, a second later, you saw a freckled arm appear from nowhere, and a second after that, Remus had been swallowed by the darkness.
“What the hell?” you whispered, furrowing your brows in confusion.
“What is happening?” Alastor whispered, a crazed look on his face now that Circe couldn’t see him.
“It’s alright. You guys are going to be okay,” you reassured them.
“That’s Sirius Black,” he whispered, terrified. “Like hell we’re going to be okay.”
“The Daily Prophet’s propaganda machine never ceases to amaze,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. “He’s here to rescueus. He’s not bad, not evil, and certainly not a sodding Death Eater. It’s all a lie.”
“And why would I believe that?” he frantically whispered back, spells still pinging off the walls.
“If he’s a Death Eater, then why the hell is he trying to kill Bellatrix in their own cave?” you hissed, trying to remain patient. “You’ve just got to trust me on this. Okay?”
He gave you a look but nodded slowly after a minute.
“Alright,” he said, encircling Circe tighter.
“I’ve got to get out and help him, please tell me you have something to pick a lock with?” you whispered.
“There’s a rusty nail under that bench, in the hole in the rock. I never knew how to use it,” he said, nodding to the opposite corner of the cell. Feeling incredibly thankful for your Muggle cousins your mother called ‘bad influences,’ you pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.
“We’re going to make it out of this, okay? Almost there,” you said, gripping his face seriously. He merely looked at you with the same expression as always.

Crawling over to the bench, you dug the nail from the hole with your fingers, shaking as you turned to the bars to poke your arm through the bars. Putting all your weight on your left foot, you fumbled about for a bit as your hands searched for the lock.
Finally finding the lock, you pushed the nail in and quickly got to work trying to pick the lock. Twisting your wrist to try a new angle, you cursed loudly when you dropped the pin.
“No!” you all but screamed, trying your damnedest to get the pin and help Sirius.
“Alohomora,” you suddenly heard a young girl’s voice whisper. With a click, the lock opened, and the door swung open.
Confused but grateful for the assistance, you figured your best bet was to crawl and keep in the darkness.
Heart pounding in your ears, you trusted Sirius not to hit you by accident as you got closer. Finally, when you were within arm’s reach, you took a deep breath and went for it. Reaching out, you wrapped both arms around Bellatrix and held tightly as she screeched in shock and thrashed madly in your arms. Pushing off with your good foot, you took her to the floor. Through her thrashing, you managed to get your hand wrapped around hers and pried her fingers from her death grip on her wand. The tell-tale light clatter of wood on stone gave you a new rush of energy.
“What? Who?” she shrieked, trying her best to turn and see who had her.
“Leave! Him! Alone!” you yelled, holding tighter as she thrashed.
“It’s over, Bellatrix,” Sirius suddenly huffed. Just as shocked as she was, you turned your neck and saw Sirius, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks all standing with their wands pointed directly at the two of you. You were pleased to find Hermione gripped Bellatrix’s wand in her hand.
“The filthy Mudblood darehold my wand?!” and the thrashing started once more. Ignoring the pain, you hooked your leg around her hip, turning to smother her.
“Shut up!” you roared, bringing your fists down on her.
“Y/N?” Sirius said, his voice laden with surprise.
“Somebody get the bloody attack dog already!” she shrieked from under you.
You felt a strong arm wrap around your torso and lift you from Bellatrix with ease, all the while thrashing to get back to her.
“We’re leaving,” Remus heaved, his chest stained with blood.
“And we’re taking them with us,” you said, pointing to Alastor and Circe, who were just now crawling timidly from the cell.
“It won’t matter,” she said, grinning a mad smile as her teeth were red with blood. “We’re going to win.”
“No you won’t,” Harry spat, looking angry. At his anger, Bellatrix let out another cackling laugh.
“Silencio!” you shouted, snatching Sirius’ wand from his hand. Sirius looked at you, highly offended, and you placed the wand back in his still outstretched palm. “I was tired of hearing the bloody twit squawk.”
“I second that. In fact,” Hermione added, “PetrificusTotalus.”
And with that, Hermione used Bellatrix’s own wand to bewitch her into stillness, her face frozen in an angry shriek.

“With her own wand,” you clucked, giving Hermione a small smile. “Excellent touch.”
“I vote we leave,” Ron said, looking around anxiously.
“I second that,” Remus said, laughing breathlessly. Tonks wrapped her arm around Remus’ waist and slowly led him from the cave. Hermione guided Alastor and Circe out into the snow, Harry and Ron following. Just as you turned to leave, Sirius spun you around and pulled you to him.
“I’m so, so, sorry, Y/N,” Sirius said against your ear.
“C-can’t, breathe,” you choked out. He loosened his grip, but didn’t let go.
“I never meant any of what I said–” he started, but before he could finish, you reached up and grabbed hold of him, wrapping your legs around him.

“I’d kiss you, but I’m pretty sure I got sick back there,” you laughed with tears in your eyes. Joining you in laughter, Sirius held you tightly against him.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Godric. I was so worried about you and–” seeming to remember, he dropped you and whipped around. “Moony!”
“Ow!” you yelped out, your ankle exploding in pain once more.
“Are you alright?” Sirius said, spinning around to you once more and looking concerned.
“Better than I was when I first arrived,” you joked–he didn’t laugh. “Just broke my ankle, is all.”
“Oh, well, if that’s all then,” he rolled his eyes at you. Turning his back to you, he squatted slightly and held his arms out. “Go on, then.”
Rolling your eyes but grinning, you hopped onto his back.
As the two of you stepped out of the cave and into the cold night air, you saw Hermione speaking to Alastor and Circe.
“I’m alright, honest. I can stand on my good foot, you go and see my brother,” you said as Sirius came to a halt.
“Are you sure? I can have Ron take my place,” he asked you, turning to look at you.
“Promise,” you smiled, pecking his cheek. Smiling back, he gingerly set you on your feet, looking concerned when you winced.
“Are you alright?” Hermione asked them. Dropping to her knees, she enveloped Circe in a hug as she cried freely. Alastor didn’t answer; he still had the dead look in his eye, staring blankly into the distance, seemingly indifferent to the cold around him. You were about to walk over to him when you saw his eyes swim back into focus.
“H-Harry Potter?” Alastor blinked, life slowly seeping back into him.
“Yeah,” Harry half-smiled, walking up to him. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve been bleeding for months,” he answered darkly. “But not anymore, thanks to you.”
“Honestly, I barely did anything at all,” Harry answered honestly. “In fact, I wasn’t even supposed to be here.”
“But you are,” Alastor said simply.
With a rush of emotion, you realized Harry was the answer. Though he might not have been the formidable wizard his reputation held him up to be, you saw he was the equal to Voldemort; he was the life to Voldemort’s death, the good to his evil. He always had been. More importantly, though, the people believed him to be Voldemort’s equal, the only hope against him. As long as Harry lived, and as long as people saw him living, fighting against Voldemort, hope would live on.
Looking away from Harry and Alastor, you noticed Ron approaching you, shrugging out of his coat.
“Here, you’ll freeze,” he said, holding the dark-blue fabric out to you.
“Oh, no, I’m alright,” you lied, a cold shiver betraying you as the wind picked up.
“I’m not taking it back,” he said stubbornly. “Besides, if you get this one all bloodied up, maybe Mum will buy me one of my own finally.”
“Alright, thanks, Ron,” you said after a moment, smiling and taking the heavy fabric from him.

Pulling on the still slightly-warm fabric, the forest around you was suddenly filled with the yells of Sirius.
“What? So, you just figured you go on and take him on yourself, did you? Aren’t you supposed to be the bloody smart one? I mean, exactly whatis the point of the mirrors if you don’t even alert me to at least let me know what you’re walking into? You could’ve died, you stubborn, detrimentally independent, crazy bastard! And then what? Just gonna leave me then too?”
“No, of course–” Remus started, looking both pained and guilty.
“No, I’m still bloody talking,” Sirius cut him off, looking fierce. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, Remus or I swear on James’ grave it’ll be me who finishes the job. In fact, if they hadn’t already done you in so well, I’d take you to the floor right now for putting me–us, through this. Matter of fact, where are the miserable sods? I’ve got some things to work out just now.”
Tearing off once more towards the caves, Harry and Ron followed him dutifully while Tonks stood with Remus, grabbing his face and wiping the grime from it, the tears in her eyes freely falling.

“Oh, darling,” she said softly, pulling his tall frame down to her. After a moment, you saw Remus’ shoulders shake slightly, and looked away from the tender scene.
“Guys, they really need a doctor, as does Y/N and Remus. We need to go,” Hermione fretted, using a cloth to sop up some of the blood on Alastor’s face.
“I’ll go on and take Remus to Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey will know where to start. The rest of you can meet us, yeah?” Tonks suggested.
“Here, take Alastor too, I’ll bring Circe. I don’t think I’m strong enough to apparate with both just yet,” you said.
“I forget they aren’t old enough yet,” Tonks sighed, gesturing for Alastor to join her.
“Go on, Alastor, Circe, and I will be right behind you,” you assured him.
“Alright,” he said, his voice dead again.
With a pop, Remus, Tonks, and Alastor disappeared from view, leaving you, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Circe and Sirius in the cold.

“OI! There’s a war going on here!”

Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.

“I know, mate,” said Ron, “so it’s now or never, isn’t it?”

❤️RON WEASLEY, THE PUREST BEST FRIEND❤️

Hermione: So… the ministry has a death warrant out for you. The Order can’t help us. You-Know-Who could come out of hiding at any moment and the last person with information to kill him has been killed. But we shouldn’t worry, because we have a cryptic locket note and a vague hunch about magic items from a bedtime story.

Harry:Yeah, pretty much.

Pansy:What’s your blood type?

Theo: How would I know?

Pansy: How would you not?

Theo:Who do I look like, Karl Landsteiner, discoverer of blood groups?

Pansy:You don’t know your blood type, but you know who discovered them?

Hannah:You’re the best person I’ve ever met!

Pansy:I’ve literally killed five people.

Ron: Harry, did you have a bad dream?

Harry:No, I’m having a bad reality.