Previous Chapters

Introduction

Author’s Note

Chapter 1: The Journey to The Burrow 

Chapter 2: Hidden Letters

The beaming face of Mrs Weasley was one of your favorite sights in the world.

“Oh my dear!” She exclaimed, bustling towards the Ford Angelia. She wiped her hands on her floral apron before crushing you into a tight, loving hug. Glaring at her sons over your shoulder (she still didn’t approve of them flying the car), she smoothed your hair down and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you so much for inviting me this summer, Mrs. Weasley,” you said once she let you go.

“Of course, dear! I know Ron was so excited to have you stay with us,” she told you as she gave both her sons a quirk, yet terse, kiss on the cheek. The mention of Ron’s name made the twins wiggle their eyebrows teasingly as you felt your face heat up.

“Come on, dinner’s almost ready,” Mrs Weasley announced, “Percy is working, and Ron is out, as you know, but the rest of the family is here so we will need to set up the large tables outside.” Mrs Weasley snapped her fingers at Fred and George who were hoisting your trunk out of the back of the car.

“You two,” she directed, “I’ll magic her trunk upstairs while you set up the tables. And remember- no funny business. I’ve had it up to here with your tricks and pranks and the summer’s barely started!” she exclaimed.

Giggling slightly as Fred stuck his tongue out at his mother, you turned to watch Mrs Weasley in awe as she raised her wand. Your trunk started lifting gently into the air, flying towards the house. As she focused on her spell, you watched as Mrs Weasley directed your trunk through and open window a few floors up in the house.

It was astonishing to see magic used so casually around a household. You weren’t allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts yet and since your parents were Muggles, this was a new sight for you. No matter how strange it felt, you found yourself excited. A whole summer full of magic and your best friends, what could be better?

“Dear, you’ll be staying in Ron’s room until he returns, is that alright with you? It’ll only be for a couple days,” Mrs Weasley told you.

You nodded quickly, “Yes that’s great, thank you again for letting me stay.”

After she reassured you that it was really no trouble, Mrs Weasley led you inside The Burrow. Your jaw dropped as you took in their home. Magic seemed to be pouring out of every item in the house. The dishes were washing themselves, a pair of floating needles were knitting a scarf, and a peculiar clock was hanging on the wall that had all of the Weasley’s faces on it. The clock had each family member pointed to a different location. As Mrs Weasley said, all of them were facing “home”, except for Percy which was pointed at “work” and Ron who was facing “Diagon Alley.”

“What’s Ron in Diagon Alley for?” You asked out loud in the living room. “Is he buying something?”

“It’s a surprise,” came a familiar voice. You spun around to see your close friend, and roommate at Hogwarts, Ginny.

“Ginny!” You yelled as you ran to her and engulfed her in a warm hug. She returned the gesture and laughed at your enthusiasm. Even though it had only been a few weeks since school let out, you feel like you hadn’t seen your friend in forever.

Although Ron was your best friend, it was nice to have your girl friends as well. You always looked forward to nights staying up late in your dormitory with Hermione and Ginny where you could freely gossip and joke without the boys listening. They, unlike the twins, were very understanding of your hidden feelings for Ron and didn’t try to pressure you into confessing them.

A loud thud, followed by boisterous laughter, broke you out of your thoughts as you and Ginny rushed outside to see what the commotion was. Lying flat on his back, a large wooden table pinning him to the ground, was none other than Bill Weasley.

The first time you had met Bill was when the Weasleys had come to visit Ron at Hogsmead in your second year. That day was unforgettable. It only took one look, and you had your first crush. He was tall, lanky, with long hair and a dragon tooth earring, and you were done for. You spent a majority of the next few months pestering Ron with questions about his mysterious older brother. After a while, he got so annoyed with you that anytime you even said Bill’s name, Ron would threaten to write home and tell his brother that you were secretely a half-goblin.

Your crush on Bill eventually faded and from there on out your feelings for him disappeared with it. He was still your first crush, and your heart still rattled against your ribcage when he winked at you from underneath the wooden table, but you knew nothing would ever come of it.

The twins fell into another fit of laughter at the sight of Bill splayed on the ground, obvious that he just lost a mid-air table fight that Ginny said were common at the Weasley household before dinner time.

After the tables had been assembled properly and you helped lay out the plates, Mrs Weasley brought the food to the table. The sight of fresh salad, roast potatoes, chicken-and-ham pie, and meatballs with onion sauce made your mouth water as you realized how hungry you were. Once the food hit the table, forks and spoons were already digging into the delicious meal.

You were so pleased to be eating with the Weasleys that at multiple points at dinner you felt yourself gazing around the noisy crowd, beyond thankful for the millionth time that day to be staying with them the whole summer. You grinned as George put two breadsticks under his mouth to look like a walrus, which earned a laugh from both Fred and Ginny. Mrs Weasley and Bill were arguing about Bill’s earring again, and Charlie and Mr Weasley were deep in conversation about the next Quidditch match between the Falmouth Falcons and Holyhead Harpies.

Once dinner was finished, you helped clear the table and went to the kitchen to ask Mrs Weasley if she needed any more help. You offered to do the dishes, but she only laughed as she waved her wand and the plates started bubbling with soap and scrubbing themselves.

The family said goodnight to each other as the sun set and you followed Ginny up the stairs, parting with her once she pointed out where Ron’s room was. You thanked her as she trudged up the stairs to bed and you slowly pushed the door open. Once or twice you’ve caught yourself wondering what Ron’s room looked like, but no amount of thought could have prepared you for the vast amount of violent orange that hit you once the door opened.

You walked into the room, spinning in a circle as you took in the decorations. Covering every inch of the walls and ceiling were Chudley Cannons posters. You knew the Cannons were his favorite Quidditch team but this was really some dedication.

The messy pile of school books and parchment shoved in the corner of Ron’s room made you laugh. You knew this summer you were going to have to pester him to complete his summer work or else it will never get done.

Closing the door behind you, you set your trunk on the bed, the sheets also a bright orange color, and pulled out your pajamas. You hastily changed into them, feeling quite odd to be taking off your clothes in your best friend’s room, and then put your trunk back down on the floor.

The bed sank underneath your weight as you sat down, pulling the covers over yourself. You took a deep breath in and smiling subconsciously as you realized the sheets smelled like Ron’s shampoo.

As you reached to turn off the light on the nightstand table, something caught your eye. Hidden underneath the table was a light brown shoebox, labeled with what looked like your name on the side. Before you could even think about it, your hands were reaching down and pulling the box onto your lap. Sure enough, “y/n” was scrawled onto the box in Ron’s slanted handwriting.

Was it an invasion of his privacy to open this box? You wondered to yourself. It’s in his room, obviously hidden under the nightstand so nobody except him could find it. But it has my name on it, so surely I’d be allowed to look at it. Right?

In the end, curiosity got the better of you and you flipped the lid open.

Inside were hundreds of pieces of parchment, with black inked handwriting sitting inside. Upon closer inspection, you realized every piece of paper was from you. Every sly note passed in Charms class, every silly cartoon you drew of Snape, and every letter you ever sent Ron was sitting in this box. Your cheeks flushed as you picked up a longer letter you wrote him.

Last June, when your parents unexpectedly left for another foreign trip again, you confided in Ron about how lonely you felt. That summer, you and him exchanged long letters constantly, talking about anything and everything. The fact that Ron had saved all of those letters, just as you did in the drawer in your room, made your heart warm.

Sighing lightly, you put the letters back into the box and put it in its place under the nightstand. You turned off the light and soon were met with just your own thoughts to keep you company.

You drifted to sleep with the thought of Ron’s hidden letters, wondering if this meant he felt the same way about you. Pushing the thought out of your mind, you hated to get your hopes up, you flipped to your other side and tried to go to bed. But Ron’s smell was still on the pillowcase and you fell asleep with the freckled, red haired boy on your mind.

Previous Chapters

Introduction

Author’s Note

Chapter 1: The Journey to The Burrow

“I think this is the most unnecessarily stupid thing either of you has ever done,” you said, not bothering to hide the wide grin on your face.

Fred and George Weasley beamed at you from outside of your bedroom window, where they were suspended in the air in the Flying Ford Angela. It was a humorous sight to see, the lanky identical twins casually driving their floating turquoise vehicle to your window.

“Madame y/l/n, as you well know, you are cordially invited to spend your summer holiday in the exceptional company of the entire Weasley family,” George declared in a booming voice.

“Rightly so, Madame, and we are acting as your trusty steeds to help deliver you safely to our humble abode,” Fred continued with the same tone of feigned royalty. 

A laugh bubbled out of you as you threw your arms out of the window, hugging Fred, who was in the passenger side window.

“It’s so good to see you both!” You exclaimed, letting your arms drop to start gathering your trunk in your room.

“If I’m not mistaken, not 1 minute ago you were calling us unnecessarily stupid,” George pointed out jokingly.

You rolled your eyes. The playful banter between you and the Weasley twins has been a prevalent part of your friendship since your second year at Hogwarts. In fact, you were first introduced to your best friend because of a ridiculous, and embarrassing, prank the twins played on you.

“Where is Ron?” You asked, remembering that he said he would pick you up today to go back to the Burrow. When he sent his owl with the date and time of your pickup, you expected to be traveling by broomstick or Floo Network. The Flying Ford Angela at your window was a welcome surprise. Always one for mischief, you couldn’t turn down a ride in a flying car.

“Bad news, love. He couldn’t make it. But he sends his well wishes and will be home a couple days after you arrive,” George told you.

You nodded, fighting the urge to be disappointed. Even though he was your best friend, you couldn’t expect him to be spending every day of the summer with you. It was already a blessing that the Weasleys were letting you spend your summer at their home while your parents were away in Europe, you couldn’t be greedy and ask for too much.

But still, you had been looking forward to seeing Ron since he sent his owl. Lately, whenever you’ve been feeling lonely, you would think about how soon you would be spending your evenings playing Wizard’s Chess with Ron instead of eating dinner alone in your empty house.

“Come on, y/n, the car will run out of petrol with you just standing around!” Fred said, hopping out of the car and into your room. He hoisted your packed trunk into the back of the car and held the backdoor open for you.

“M'lady,” he offered, with a bow so deep his orange hair fell into his eyes.

Smiling back at him, you climbed into the car. Fred followed suit and within minutes you were soaring above the London skies.

You exchanged stories back in forth about what you’ve been up to since Hogwarts let school out. The twins told you about their successful joke shop, and even brought you a Screaming Yo-Yo as a welcome gift. You had always been supportive of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes creations and were looking forward to testing more products with them this summer.

After a while, your chatter died down as you rested your head against the glass window. Watching the city line disappear into countryside below, a sense of calm washed over you. This summer was going to be your best yet.

“Y/n,” George said suddenly.

You raised your head cautiously, his voice sounded serious- something it very rarely was. Fred shared a look with George and they both nodded curtly, only increasing your anxiety more.

“What?” You asked, worry seeping into the question.

Fred sighed and turned around in his seat so he could face you.

“We think it’s time,” he said plainly, eyes staring deep into your own. You watched him, confused, as he kept looking at you.

“And that means….what?” You asked, still no idea what the twins were talking about.

George sighed, put the car on Auto-Pilot, and turned around as well. Now four pairs of brown eyes were staring at you intently.

“Won-Won,” they said simultaneously.

A laugh escaped you as you realized that their odd behavior was just another joke and not something serious. The three of you had teased Ron mercilessly last year about the nickname his girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, had used.

“What about Ron?” You asked. A smile played upon your lips as you said his name, though you weren’t sure why.

The twins shared another look before George spoke up.

“It is time for you and Ron to confess your undying love for one another. This has been a long time coming and we believe this summer is your perfect opportunity,” George stated simply as if his explanation made perfect sense.

Face burning red, you looked out the window to avoid their gaze.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, cringing. You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

George turned back around to drive the car as Fred continued pestering you on the subject.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Every single person, besides the two of you apparently, know what’s going on between each other. If I have to see one more longing glance from across the table, I’m going to have to move in with Charlie in Romania,” Fred told you.

Although it was obvious you had a long harbored crush on Ron, you didn’t think he reciprocated the same feeling. After all, he did have a girlfriend for half of the school year.

When you didn’t reply, George spoke up once again.

“We’re not trying to rush you, love, but we know he feels the same way. For days, he couldn’t shut up about how excited he was that you were coming to stay at the Burrow,” he said.

“If he were so excited then why didn’t he bother to pick me up? Or why won’t he be back until a few days after I arrive?” You snapped. Surprised by your own feistiness, you assumed that maybe you were more than a little disappointed to not see him.

The twins shared yet another knowing look with one another.

“What is it?” You asked, desperate to know what they were keeping from you.

“You’ll see, y/n…” Fred said mysteriously. Then he pointed out the window, and proclaimed “Ah, we’re almost there!”

Following his finger your gaze fell upon the towering structure just ahead. The rooms upon rooms stacked on top of each other made the most magnificent wizarding house you had ever seen.

You’ve never been to the Burrow before, and since you were Muggleborn your house wasn’t anywhere near as magical. The entirety of the Weasley’s home seemed to be held up by magic, oozing it out of every window. Just looking upon their home, with the gnomes in the garden, smoke rising from the chimney, and Quidditch goals set up in the yard, you forgot your worries.

Maybe you would have to finally confront your feelings for Ron this summer. But right now, all you wanted to focus on was how excited you were to spend the next few months with your best friend and his family. 

Previous Chapters

Introduction

Author’s Note

Hi readers!

Before anything else I want to start off by saying thank you so much for reading my story! I appreciate it so much.

Secondly, you should know (and I’m sure lots of you already do) that I do not own any of the characters or settings within this fic. All of this is based off of the amazing Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. This is just my small version of a story within the entire Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

Also, please know that in no way does this fic follow the storyline of the actual books. It’s just something light hearted so the events that happen during the Half Blood Prince (such as the burning of the Burrow) don’t occur in this story. I wanted the characters in this to be between 17-18 so I chose the summer after sixth year for the timeline :)

And with that, I want to thank you again and I really hope you enjoy this fic! Please feel free to comment and let me know your thoughts and suggestions <3

Introduction 

who doesn’t love a good ol’ slow burn & pining fan pic?

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After your 6th year at Hogwarts, the Weasley family invites you to spend the summer at their house. A long-harbored crush on your best friend Ron proves to make your summer at The Burrow very interesting…
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p.s: in no way does this fic follow the storyline of the actual books. it’s just something light hearted so the events that happen during the Half Blood Prince (such as the burning of the Burrow) don’t occur in this story.

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This fan fiction can be found on my wattpad @/twasallyellow. Enjoy! 

Previous Chapters

Introduction/Author’s Note/Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow/ Chapter 2: Hidden Letters/ Chapter 3: Ron’s Return/Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations/Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise/Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match 

Chapter 7: Girl Talk

Lunch passed by in a whirl. Numerous freckled hands snatched sandwiches off plates and scarfed them down. Jokes were played on family members as messes were made on the wooden table. The atmosphere of the dinning table in the Burrow was as it always was: chaotic and wonderful. However, you had a hard time enjoying the usual festivities. Your mind, and heart, with both still upstairs with Ron in that tiny bathroom. You wished more than anything to be back there, leaning in to the one person you wanted more than anything.

You risked a glance at Ron. He was unusually silent, not bothering to jump in when the discussion turned towards Quidditch. His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks reddened as he looked away quickly. You couldn’t help but think that his thoughts were also focused on the same moment that had been replaying in your head.

“Y/n, do you want thirds?” Ginny asked from across the table. She had always been clever, and her steady look let you know she noticed your absent disposition. Her arched brow and knowing eyes told you that you needed to talk- soon. You shook your head to answer her question, despite how good the sandwiches were.

The rest of the day was spent doing chores. With most of the Weasley family home this summer, along with some additional guests, the house got messy very quickly.

“Couldn’t you just magic everything clean?” George grumbled at his mother when she gave the list of chores to the group.

Mrs. Weasley’s tone was as cold as ice. “Maybe if you children wouldn’t have dragged mud all over the house after your Quidditch game, I would be happy to use magic. But since you did bring the entire garden into this house, you will clean it yourselves!” Her narrowed glare lessened as she looked upon you and Hermione.

“Of course, I don’t blame you dears. You can rest while my children- yes Harry that includes you- clean the house,” she told you with a loving smile.

Despite the offer, Ginny forced you and Hermione to help her sweep and mop the floors. The twins were tasked with putting away all their joke items and Harry and Ron were outside degnoming the garden for the second time that week.

To lighten the mood, you ran upstairs to retrieve the muggle radio you brought from home. You spent a lot of your time listening to it while you were lonely, dancing around your room when you knew no one would be watching. Turning the dial to your favorite station, you placed the radio on the shelf so everyone could hear it. Then your chores begun.

Sweeping wasn’t so bad while you were doing it with your best friends. You joked and laughed the entire time, singing badly and off-key to your favorite songs. Ginny used her mop handle as a microphone to dramatically serenade Hermione. The twins even joined in on the fun by dancing next to you, feather dusters in hand. You threw your head back in a laugh as Ginny fell to her knees for her final solo.

This is what family is, you thought to yourself.

You didn’t notice when Ron stopped in from outside to grab water for him and Harry. You didn’t notice his gaze softened as he watched you dancing with his family. You didn’t notice his eyes dropping to the way your hips swayed to the music, and you didn’t hear Harry mumble, “Mate, you’re whipped,” to his friend.

                                                            …

The sun set as you completed your chores and you found yourself cornered after dinner.

“Sleepover. Tonight. My room. You, me, and Hermione” Ginny said with a tone that made it impossible to argue with her. Not that you wanted to argue that, you actually missed having sleepovers with your dorm mates.

You made your way over to Ron who was just finishing up washing the dishes. You tried to ignore the way his broad shoulder muscles moved beneath his thin cotton shirt. You also tried to ignore the freckles peeping out from behind his hairline. Everything about him made your head feel dizzy and you suddenly felt the need to chug a large glass of water to cool down.

“Hey,” you said gently, standing next to him and picking up a dish rag to help dry the plates.

“Hi,” he responded, his voice alone making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The next ten minutes passed without either of you saying a word. You fell into the familiar comfortable silence that only best friends can experience with one another. The rhythm of him washing the plates, you drying them, and then them magically floating back into the cabinets felt good. Everything you did together always just felt right.

“So,” you said, speaking up once the dishes were done, “Hermione and I are sleeping over in Ginny’s room tonight.” You don’t know why you brought it up, maybe as just another excuse to stay around him for longer.

You were surprised by the grin that immediately spread across Ron’s face. “So I don’t have to sleep on the couch tonight? Wicked.”

Your smile subsided slightly. Ron didn’t assume you and him would share a bed again tonight like you did the night before. You were silly to have hoped that would become a regular occurrence. Confused thoughts swirled around you in a whirl as you tried to hide your disappointment.

You nodded, and as you turned to walk up to Ginny’s room, you felt Ron’s hand reach out to catch yours.

“Y/n- wait…” he began. You looked up to meet his eyes and your insides melted when you saw him looking at you differently. He looked at you with determination and absolute attention- the same way he looked at you earlier that day, when you thought he was going to kiss you.

“If you have nightmares tonight, you know where to find me. My bed is always open for you” he said with a cheeky smile. His smugness and arrogance took you back for a second. Fred and George must be getting to him. You blushed as you turned back up the stairs.

Was that an invitation? Or just a flirty joke that friends say to one another?

These questions filled your mind as you changed into pajamas and made your way to Ginny’s room. The moment you approached her doorway the door swung open and you were yanked inside. Ginny swiftly closed the door behind you to ensure privacy.

“Talk,” was all she said.

You blushed as you sat down on her worn blue carpeting. Hermione was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed with a book in her hand. The redhead plopped onto the ground next to you, laying on her stomach as she propped herself up on her elbows. This was the usual procedure for girl talk back at Hogwarts- Ginny leaning in, eager to hear your gossip as Hermione pretended not to notice but eventually gave in and joined your discussions.

“About what?” you asked innocently. Ginny rolled her eyes as Hermione shut her book, her attention now focused on you. They were two of the smartest witches you ever met, and knowing you couldn’t fool them, you decided to come clean.

“I think Ron and I almost kissed,” you blurted out.

Hermione’s mouth hung open as Ginny exclaimed, “Shut up!”

You nodded at their reactions, closing your eyes for a brief moment to relive the moment.

“When? How?” Hermione asked, scooting closer to you.

“Upstairs, he was helping me clean my cut after the game and then I guess…we started leaning in. I don’t know if the kiss actually would have happened though- we were interrupted before I could tell what was going on” you explained.

Ginny’s eyebrows knit together with anger. “Who interrupted? I swear if it was Fred or George I’m gonna beat their-”

“You did, genius. Your voice carries throughout the entire house,” you said with a hint of humor, cutting her off.

“Oh,” she replied, her ears turning pink.

Hermione grinned at you, “well this is good! Maybe you didn’t kiss that time, but there will be other opportunities.”

You smiled at your friend’s optimism. As much as you loved your friends for supporting you and being interested in your love life, a part of you wanted to keep a part of the interaction between you and Ron to yourself. You wanted to keep a part of him close and secret to only you, so you switched the topic of conversation.

Turning to Ginny you asked, “So, how’s Harry?” You wiggled your eyebrows in a teasing manner. The question made her launch into a hilarious story about how she caught him staring at her during Quidditch and managed to knock him off his broom.

“That’s what boys get for not keeping their eyes to themselves, right y/n?” Ginny joked.

You laughed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please! You should have seen the way Ron oggled at you while you were dancing today! His eyes were practically glued to your arse. I almost would have told him to get a room, it was so intense,” Hermione said with a giggle.

You rolled your eyes, pretending this new information didn’t make your heart race. If he really watched you the same way you watch him, maybe this fantasy of yours wasn’t so far-fetched. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

The rest of your girls sleepover was filled with laughter and chatter as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. As Ginny and Hermione drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder if Ron was in his room right now- waiting for you. Each time your eyes closed, all you could picture was Ron, leaning closer and closer and closer… You fell asleep to your imagination wondering what his lips would feel like against yours.

Previous Chapters

Introduction/Author’s Note/Chapter 1: The Journey to The Burrow/Chapter 2: Hidden Letters/Chapter 3: Ron’s Return/Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations/Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise

Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match

You were greeted by a grinning Ron in the kitchen.

“I see your mood has changed,” you noted, gratefully taking the buttered toast he was offering you as you heard your stomach rubble loudly.

He nodded. “Fred and George talked to me,” he stated.

A bolt of terror ran up your spine. Talked to him? Talked to him about what? Surely they didn’t tell Ron how you felt about him? You knew they were pushing you towards confessing, but you never thought they would betray you like that.

“Oh?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral. You took a big bite of toast and chewed to keep your mind off of Ron’s next words, and your impending feeling of doom.

Ron nodded, his smile returning. “They said I can use the best Cleansweep Five we’ve got. Thank Merlin too, all our other brooms give me splinters.”

Relief washed over you like a great tide. They hadn’t ratted you out after all. You felt a twinge of guilt from believing the twins would go behind your back like that, you knew they wouldn’t.

After you finished your breakfast, you headed out to the field behind The Burrow. You were greeted by the sight of quidditch balls already laid out, goalposts standing ready, and redheaded boys fighting over brooms. Hermione and Ginny chatted pleasantly with one another to the side.

You walked over to them and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry I was so uptight upstairs,” you said.

Ginny waved you off with the flick of a wrist, “We understand. Although we were quite hopeful seeing you in Ron’s bed,” she added with a wink.

Hermione gave you a hug with one arm and whispered, “We expect to hear all the details later.” You laughed, happy to have your girls back, and followed them to the others.

“I called this one!”

“No you didn’t, you great git, I did!”

“Yeah right, get your own!”

Laughing at the twins’ argument, you grabbed the shabbiest looking broom in the pile. It was no secret that you were the best Chaser on your house team so you thought taking the worst broom was a fair way to even out the match. Also, you weren’t in in the mood to fight tooth and nail with a ginger about a broomstick.

After the broomsticks were distributed to each player, George still grumbling about Fred taking his broom, the teams were determined. On one side: Fred, George, Ron, and Harry. On the other: you, Hermione, and Ginny. You were the chaser, Ginny the beater, and Hermione the Keeper. Much to Harry’s dismay, the group had opted out of the need of the seeker role and Snitch. Instead, you would just be playing to see how many points you could score through the goals.

“Shirts vs skins!” Fred and George shouted. “Isn’t that what the muggles do to keep track of their teammates, Harry?” They asked him, already yanking their shirts off their backs.

“I suppose,” Harry said, following their action.

You laughed, “Yeah, except nobody ever offers to be the skins.”

“Well if they looked as good as I do, they would,” Fred replied confidently, earning giggles from you and Hermione. Ginny, however, scoffed at his words.

You were so busy talking to Fred that when you turned your head, you noticed Ron had already taken his shirt off. Maybe you were imagining it, but you felt his gaze flick quickly to yours and then both of your cheeks reddening instantly. This had been the second time in 24 hours that you had seen your best friend with his shirt off and it still made your heart skip a beat and your head feel dizzy. Hopefully you could keep your eyes on the Quidditch match instead of him.

Before you knew it, the match had started.

You had grabbed the Quaffle once it was in the air, and were rushing towards the other team’s goalposts. You noticed your broom was a lot slower than yours at home, drifting slightly to the right as you propelled yourself forward, but that didn’t impede your skills at all. In fact, before long, the score was 50-10.

“That’s rubbish!” Harry shouted as you scored yet another goal. He was really getting into the spirit of Quidditch.

“The only thing that’s rubbish is your flying!” Ginny countered back with a wicked smirk.

Being here with your friends, playing Quidditch outside under the sun, wind whipping through your hair- it was everything you wished for and more. You recalled sitting all alone in the great big empty house of yours, your mind would often wander to wishing for something like this. A sense of community, friendship, and family. Right now, you couldn’t be happier.

“y/n, look out!”

You heard it too late. By the time your head turned in the direction of Ginny’s voice, the Weasley’s battered old bludger from their home Quidditch set had smacked into the side of your head. Falling from your broomstick, you really wished you hadn’t forgone the helmet offered to you before the match began.

The match abruptly ended as you hit the ground with a thud. Admittedly, you weren’t flying that high up, but the fall still stung. You felt a large welt on your forehead, and as you touched above your left eyebrow you were surprised to see blood.

“Ow,” you commented.

The first person to reach you was Ron, looking pale with worry.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” He asked, his voice quivering as his eyes flicked between your eyes and bloodied forehead.

You nodded, but the effort in doing so made you dizzy. You swayed a little from where you sat, and Ron wrapped a protective arm around your back to steady you. Despite being on the precipice of passing out, Ron’s palm being pressed flatly to your lower back made butterflies erupt in your stomach. So now you had that making your head spin too.

Concerned blue eyes stared intently at you and you tried your best to not notice how close Ron’s bare chest was to you. He was breathing heavily from the game and despite being sweaty from the heat, he still smelled like cinnamon and apples. His red hair was tousled from the wind and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers through it.

“I’m alright, just a little fall,” you said, struggling to your feet. Ron kept his arm wrapped tightly around you to keep you from toppling over.

“Alright there, y/n?” Harry asked as the others came to join you. “I didn’t mean to hit that blunger so hard, I’m sorry.”

You waved him off with your hand. “S'all right, I’ve suffered from worst during Quidditch,” you replied. And it was true. Last year, you had broken your arm three times during the Quidditch season. Madame Pomfrey welcomed you as a regular visitor in the Hospital Wing. You had even managed to become quite good friends with her.

After a quick survey of the group, it was obvious everyone was beaten and tired. Two hours of Quidditch can do that to a person.

“I’ll take her upstairs and clean her cut. Will you lot make lunch? Or ask Mum too?” Ron asked. You were surprised by his taking charge, usually he was one to sit back and let Hermione make all the plans.

Everyone nodded and then embarked back to The Burrow.

“Despite my fall, we were winning,” you proclaimed as you entered the house. You, Hermione, and Ginny shared a satisfying smile at your victory.

“I call a rematch for tomorrow,” Harry insisted as he followed the twins into the kitchen.

Ron led you upstairs, his hand still planted firmly on your back, as you walked up the countless steps. After a couple levels, you had reached the tiny bathroom all the Weasley’s shared.

You entered it, followed by Ron. It was quite a tight fit. With both of you standing in it, backs facing the wall, your chests were almost pressed against one another. Ron still hadn’t put his shirt back on. You tried your best not to notice this fact.

He stepped closer to you, and your heart started beating so fast you felt there was a hummingbird trapped in your ribcage rather than an organ. Ron wrapped his arms around you, lifted you up, and set you on the bathroom counter. You blushed at the ease in which he did this. He really was quite strong. You remembered back in second year when he could barely push open the heavy common room door, now here he was lifting you onto counters as if you weighed nothing.

Ron searched above you in the mirror cabinet for some bandaids and ointment for your head. You waited patiently, taking advantage of his distracted attention to stare at him. He really looked good. He was biting his lip in concentration as he read different bottles to find the correct medicine, and his eyebrows were knitted together. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and his freckles looked like constellations on his skin. In that moment, you swore he was the most handsome wizard you ever saw.

“Got it,” he said, his deep voice snapping you out of your fantasy. “Mum used to put this on our scrapes when we were little. It might sting a bit,” he warned you.

You nodded and shut your eyes as Ron wet a rag and turned to you. You felt him lean closer. Cinnamon and apple. His smell was intoxicating.

Ron lighted brushed your hair behind your ear. With a wet cloth, he dabbed the blood away. His touch felt so soft and gentle that you fought the urge to sigh and melt right into the arms. But that feeling quickly subsided as a new sensation of an intense burning reached your cut.

“Ow,” you muttered through gritted teeth as he continued applying the ointment.

“I know, sorry,” he replied, still concentrating.

You opened your eyes to sneak a glance at him. He was so close to you that if you moved forward a little bit, your noses would be touching. You snapped your eyes shut again, afraid that if you kept them open for a second longer, you wouldn’t be able to restrain yourself anymore. You were certain you would kiss him if he stayed that close to you.

The feeling of a dry fabric being pressed to your head brought you out of your thoughts as the stinging subsided. The bandaid Ron pressed gently to your forehead seemed to help because you didn’t feel dizzy anymore. Magic, it was great at healing.

Taking in a deep breath, you opened your eyes. Ron was still standing so close to you, both of his arms resting against the counter on either side of you. His eyes immediately met yours and you could swear that every sound in the world went quiet. The temperature in the bathroom seemed to increase as you were so close to one another. You couldn’t help yourself, your eyes slipped from his blue eyes to his lips. Merlin, you wanted to kiss him so badly.

Looking back up, you saw his gaze was focused on your mouth as well. His eyes met yours once again. Was he leaning in? He definitely looked like he was getting closer. Is this really happening?

“Lunch is ready!” Ginny’s voice traveled from downstairs to the bathroom like a shrill bullhorn. You felt as if a bucket of cold water was poured onto your head, that’s how quickly you jolted from the dream-like trance you were in.

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly, moving backwards to give you more space. The absence of his proximity made you feel colder, and you wished Ginny had called you a minute later.

“Shall we?” He asked, offering you a hand as you climbed down from the counter.

“Yeah, I’m starving,” you replied as you exited the bathroom and made your way downstairs. But you were more than just hungry for lunch. You had a hunger for whatever atmosphere donned upon you and Ron in that tiny bathroom. You were hungry for that feeling of being the only two in the world. It was in that moment that you realized how strongly you felt about Ron. How strongly you felt about your best friend. It was there, atop the rickety steps of The Burrow, that you vowed that this summer was the one where you would tell Ron Weasley that you were in love with him.

Previous Chapters

Introduction/Author’s Note/Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow/Chapter 2: Hidden Letters/Chapter 3: Ron’s Return/Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations

Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise

That morning, you awoke to a surprised gasp.

You jolted upwards to look towards the sound, promptly smacking your head against Ron’s.

“Ow,” you both mumbled, fully awake now. With the nose injury from last night, and this today, Ron was going to be covered in bruises by the time the summer was over.

Your eyes settled upon a stunned looking Harry Potter standing in the doorway. His mouth was open, his eyes wide. Perhaps he wasn’t expecting to walk into his best friend’s room and see him cuddled up with a girl.

Words couldn’t form in your mouth to explain the inappropriate situation. How could you explain how you looked right now- hair disheveled, under the covers, with Ron’s arm still wrapped tightly around you.

As Ron was about to speak, Harry’s face broke out into a wide grin. Smirking he said, “well done, mate.”

“Well done? Well done for what?” You heard a familiar voice say from the hallway. Within seconds, Hermione’s head was peeking into the doorway.

“Oh my!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up to her mouth in shock.

Harry chuckled as you heard even more footsteps approaching.

“What is it, Hermione?” you heard Ginny call before she, too, entered the small room, freezing when she saw you and Ron.

“Fred! George! Get in here!” she yelled, her lips forming into the same satisfied smile Harry wore.

“Oh please let’s just invite the whole family,” Ron said sarcastically. The room was already crowded with the 5 bodies in it, every eye strained upon you and Ron. But oddly enough, his arm was still wrapped protectively around your waist.

Soon, Fred and George apperated into the room, standing at the bottom of the bed.

“Would you look at that Georgie,” Fred said, nudging his brother in the side. “I believe you owe me 5 galleons.” George rolled his eyes and handed over the coins.

“You bet on us?” Ron asked. His face was growing red, but more from annoyance than embarrassment.

The twins nodded at the same time.

You made eye contact with Ginny and Hermione, who were both grinning, their eyes sparkling. They knew you’d had a crush on Ron for years, and they mistakenly thought you had confessed to him, leading to the sleeping together situation. Terrified that they would say how you felt about him, when in reality you hadn’t confessed anything at all, you spoke up.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you mumbled, really wishing it was what it looked like.

Ron glanced at you and then let his arm slip from your waist. You felt your body get colder as he moved away from you.

“Nothing happened, like it ever would,” Ron said, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. You felt your heart drop as you processed his words.

“Like it ever would.” Does that mean he didn’t want anything to happen between you?

“So you can give him your money back,” Ron grumbled at Fred, getting out of bed and walking straight out the door. You heard his loud footsteps march downstairs to the kitchen. His angry attitude left an uncomfortable silence in the room.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“I take it you didn’t tell him then?” Hermione asked, sitting on the side of the bed and soothingly brushing your hair with her fingers.

“No, I didn’t,” you replied.

“Tell him what?” Harry asked cluelessly.

Hermione and Ginny shared a look. “Boys,” they muttered together, shaking their heads at Harry’s oblivion.

The twins took it upon themselves to thoroughly explain the situation to Harry.

“You see, our friend y/n here is in love with Ron. Has been for quite a while, we reckon. So when we see the two of them canoodling together in bed in the morning, one gets to thinking that maybe some confessions were made,” Fred told him with a smug smirk.

Keeping your head in your hands, you didn’t look at Harry.  

“Well that’s perfect!” Harry blurted out, “Ron feels the same way!”

Your head shot up and you stared at him.

“He does?” you asked him. Of course you knew that Ron treated you different from his other friends, but you never wanted to jump to conclusions.

“Well I mean, yeah. He’s never outright said anything about it, but I can tell,” Harry explained.

You groaned again, the swell of hope in your chest quickly dying down. No offense to Harry, but sometimes his intuition wasn’t the best. You thought back to the countless times he was convinced Draco Malfoy had poisoned his morning pumpkin juice.

“I hate to break it to you lot, because you seemed quite excited barging in here this morning, but I’m positive he doesn’t feel the same way. Did you hear him? ‘Like it ever would.’ That means he doesn’t want anything to happen with us,” you huffed.

Ginny shook her head.

“No, it means he’s a stupid git who doesn’t know how to say what he’s feeling,” she said confidently.

You wanted to believe her. You really did. But if he felt the same way, he would’ve said something by now. Last night was the perfect opportunity, and he didn’t tell you anything. That was all the confirmation you needed that your feelings were one-sided.

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you stood up. Although you felt your heart break slightly, you couldn’t let this ruin your summer.

“Let’s just forget this happened, okay?” You said, looking each of them in the eye. “Please don’t mention it again, he’s already pissed off enough.”

Your friends nodded, but not without reluctance.

“Mum’s making eggs this morning, then we could play a game of Quidditch in the backyard,” Ginny offered. You thanked her silently for following your request.

“Sounds great, I brought my Firebolt,” Harry said.

And with that, the crowd change the topic of conversation to Quidditch. Their chat continued as everyone made their way to the kitchen.

Left alone upstairs, you changed out of your pajamas. You reached into your trunk to put on your favorite t-shirt. It was a vintage muggle band t-shirt that you used to listen to with your dad all the time, before travel got in the way and you barely saw him anymore. Ron, with the help of Mr. Weasley who knew the muggle world better than he did, searched high and low for this one specific shirt for your birthday last year. You loved the shirt and wore it all the time, Ron always was a great gift giver for you.

At the thought, you turned your attention to your new owl, who had just woken up. She was as adorable as when you first saw her. Friends get each other amazing gifts all the time, this doesn’t mean he’s in love with you, you tried to remind yourself.

“Good morning, Dite,” you said, rubbing her tiny head. She pecked your fingers affectionately, before flying over to the bed, where she sat down on Ron’s pillow.

“You saw all that, huh?” You asked. Even the owls saw your embarrassment from this morning.

She nodded her head and then fluttered over to the box of letters under his nightstand. She nudged the side of it with her beak.

“They don’t mean anything,” you told her. She didn’t understand. No one did. Ron, despite your best wishes, wasn’t in love with you. It was just a fact you needed to accept.

You cocked your head towards the door. “C'mon,” you said to Dite. She flew onto your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck.

“We have a Quidditch match to win.”

Previous Chapters

Introduction/Author’s Note/ Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow/Chapter 2: Hidden Letters/Chapter 3: Ron’s Return

Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations 

You awoke to the sound of quiet shuffling in the corner of the room. You opened your eyes but didn’t dare move. The wizarding world had become increasingly dangerous lately so you were terrified that there could be some dark wizard lurking in the darkness, ready to kidnap you. Then, you heard someone stub their toe and the sound of a muffled swear eased your fear.

“Ron?” you asked, no longer afraid of the mysterious noises in the room. You flipped over in bed so now you were facing him.

Your cheeks immediately flushed a deep shade of red. Whatever it was you were expecting to see when you turned around, it definitely wasn’t a shirtless Ron.

“H-Hi. Sorry I, er, thought you were asleep,” he stammered, standing frozen as if he was paralyzed.

Your brain was having an intense argument with your eyes to prevent them from dropping from Ron’s face to his bare torso. Unfortunately, you were weak, so your gaze fell ever so slightly and your face got even redder. The years of Quidditch seemed to really have paid off because Ron’s chest was toned. Freckles littered his shoulders and chest like constellations and you fought the urge to run your fingers over every single one of then. You tried your very best not to notice his prominent v-line leading to the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

Ron’s face was the same color as his hair as he hastily threw a shirt on, to your great disappointment.

“I couldn’t sleep well in normal clothes so I came up to get some pajamas…didn’t mean to wake you,” he muttered quietly, his eyes locked in a staring contest with the floor.

It took a second for you to snap your attention to his words when all your brain was thinking about was him half naked only a moment ago.

“S'okay,” you said, matching his soft tone.

An odd silence filled the room, a silence that usually wasn’t present in conversations with your best friend.

You scooted over closer to the wall, making as much room as you could in the small bed.

Ron took your silent cue and laid down next to you, folding his arms behind his neck as he leaned against the bed frame.

“Couch not treating you well?” you asked, keeping your tone light in hopes he hadn’t noticed how you were ogling at him a minute ago.

He groaned, “I don’t know how old that couch is, but I think my mum got it before her and Dad were even married. It’s like sleeping on rocks.”

“I can sleep down there if you want,” you offered, feeling guilty for taking his room.

Ron was shaking his head before you even finished your sentence.

“No way, I’m a gentleman. I can’t do that,” he told you.

You snorted at his choice of words. “You’re the furthest thing from it,” you joked.

He playfully slapped your shoulder.

“It’s true!” you defended yourself. “I don’t think we’ve had one conversation at the dining hall where you’re not talking with your mouth full.”

His shoulders, clad in his red Chudley Cannons pajama shirt, jostled up and down with quiet laughter. You noticed there was a small hole in the middle of the shirt and you could see his pale skin moving underneath the cloth.

Forcing your eyes back up to meet his, you tried to change the subject.

“So why were you in Diagon Alley for so long?” you asked nervously, praying he hadn’t noticed your eyes betraying your better judgment once again.

At this question, Ron beamed.

“They really kept the secret?” he asked, excitedly hopping out of the bed. “Nobody told you? Not even Ginny?”

Confused, you shook your head.

“I got you a present,” Ron explained as he walked to the window and opened it, letting in the fresh nighttime summer air. “I asked the family to not tell you what it was, but I half expect them to anyways. But I’m glad they didn’t, I wanted it to be a surprise.”

You followed him out of bed, sitting next to him on the windowsill. You watched as he leaned out of the window, put his fingers to his lips, and let out a short whistle. Nothing happened, and you craned your head out the window to see what he was calling for.

The night was empty, all you could see were the rolling fields outside of the Burrow and the garden gnomes throwing rocks at one another.

You were about to pull your head back into the room, when you saw a small pink blur soaring through the air. It looked like it was getting closer and closer to the window.

“What is that?” you asked, looking to Ron for answers but were met with only his large grin.

Suddenly, the pink blur shot into the bedroom. You turned around, stunned as you saw Ron cradling it. Taking a step forward, you were delighted to see it was a creature.

“An owl?” you asked excitedly, as you stood next to Ron to see the creature closer.

It was miniature, about the size of Ron’s owl Pigwidgeon, but a million times more adorable. Pink feathers surrounded large blue eyes and you noticed a black heart shaped marking on the top of its head.

“Her name’s Aphrodite. I call her Dite though,” Ron told you, glancing up at you from under his lashes to see your reaction.

You were beaming from ear to ear.

“She’s amazing,” you said.

Ron grinned. “Good, because she’s yours,” he said, moving closer so he could set the small creature into your hands. She reluctantly stepped off of Ron’s palms, but once you gave her a small pat on the head, she nuzzled into your hands.

“I know how upset you were about Celeste, so I wanted to cheer you up. I spent days in Eeylops Owl Emporium looking for the perfect one and then one day Dite showed up. She’s pretty affectionate and a fast flyer, a bit annoying really, but I thought you’d like her,” Ron said. He looked at you again, biting his lip in hopes that you appreciated your gift.

Dite flew onto your shoulder as you lunged forward and wrapped Ron into a tight hug. He let out a little gasp of surprise but then wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Thank you, I love her,” you said while hugging him.

“I’m glad. Now when we write letters to each other, you’ll have an owl too so Pig won’t get so tired making so many trips,” he said.

At the mention of your letters, guilt knocked the smile off your face. You quickly pushed away from Ron.

“Ikindasortamaybelookedthroughyourpersonalbelongingsandsawtheletters,” you said in one quick breath.

Ron stared at you confused. “Y/n, I didn’t understand one word of that.”

You swallowed nervously before stating slower, “I, er, I was curious about that box under your nightstand so I kinda…opened it. It had my name on it and I saw all my letters you kept,” you said nervously. Dite reflected your emotions and shifted awkwardly from talon to talon on your shoulder.

Ron’s facial expression changed slightly, and you were afraid he was going to be mad at you. Here he was, offering you a place to stay over the summer, buying you an owl, and letting you sleep in his room and how did you repay him? Oh yeah, by snooping into his personal items.

Instead of the anger you were expecting, Ron looked deeply embarrassed.

“Oh,” he sighed, lowering his head and scratching the back of his neck. “Bet you think I’m weird for saving all your letters right? I dunno why I did, I just sometimes liked to reread them when I hadn’t seen you in a while. I guess cause I missed you. I dunno,” he said.

Again, a silence filled the room. He missed you. He missed you. Of course you missed him over the summer, both as a friend misses a friend and as someone misses their crush. You wondered which kind of missing he felt.

“I keep your letters too,” you told him.

Ron finally looked back up at you. “Yeah?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

You nodded, “I reread them when you take a while to reply, sort of as a way to hold me over until the next letter. Or I reread them because your handwriting is so damn awful it takes a couple reads to actually figure out what you wrote.”

He laughed, and just like that the tension was gone.

You spent the next hour or so chatting and playing with Dite. Even though Ron’s watch read 2am, neither of you really cared, you just missed talking to each other. Back at Hogwarts, you would take walks along the Black Lake once a week and time seemed to matter less when you were together. You would stroll around the lake numerous times, your conversation flowing easily, and not even notice how long you had been gone until the sun would set. The same flow came into place now, and before long it was 5am.

By now, you and Ron were laying on his bed, your head leaning against his shoulder. Dite took it upon herself to sit with Pig in his cage, drinking some of the water from his water bottle as he unknowingly snoozed in the back of the cage.

A yawn escaped you as Ron sleepily spoke about the newest broomstick he saw on sale at Diagon Alley.

“It’s late,” he said, glancing at his watch with tired eyes

You nodded, too comfortable to move.

“Is it alright if I stay up here tonight? That couch is bloody awful,” he said.

Heart soaring, you nodded again and scooted closer to the wall to give him more room. He got under the covers with you, slowly wrapping his arm around your back. Now you were cuddling next to Ron, your head on his chest as his fingers drew lazy circles on your back. People who were just friends didn’t lay like this together, right?

Before long, he was snoring. You closed your eyes too. For the first time since you came to The Burrow, you drifted to sleep peaceful and warm. With Ron’s arm wrapped around you, you were more comfortable than you had ever been before.

Previous Chapters

Introduction/Author’s Note/Chapter 1: The Journey to The Burrow/Chapter 2: Hidden Letters

Chapter 3: Ron’s Return

The next couple days at The Burrow were some of your favorite days ever spent. You awoke every morning to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking downstairs and spent the majority of your days around magic. Every afternoon, you and Ginny would get together and complete your school work together, just like you used to at Hogwarts. It was a bit more difficult to stay focused without Hermione around, you and Ginny kept getting sidetracked with talk about Quidditch, but you managed to get some work done.

After your dinner in the garden, you spent the rest of your afternoon in the living room talking with Mr Weasley. He was fascinated by muggles and you were more than happy to indulge him and answer all of his questions. You explained the difference between a light switch and an outlet, and even told him about how your television works.

Whenever you were in the living room, you felt your gaze wonder to the clock hanging on the wall. Ron’s hand was still pointing towards “Diagon Alley” and you were starting to wonder why he was shopping for so long.

Pushing the thought out of your mind, you directed your attention back to Mr Weasley.

“Do you have any muggle pets, y/n? What are they like?” He asked. You smiled as you saw the pencil next to him jotting down notes onto a pad of paper. Mr Weasley treated your conversations like an interview, wanting to remember everything you said. He was a sweet man, as all of the Weasleys were, so you didn’t mind spending hours chatting with him.

“I guess the pets are sort of the same in the muggle world and wizarding world. I had a couple of goldfish when I was younger but I kept overfeeding them so my parents gave them away. Then I had a dog named Benji, but he now lives with my cousins because my family travels so much. And then my last pet was Celeste, but she died last spring,” you told him.

The thought of Celeste made your good spirits sink a little. You had first met your snowy white cat in Diagon Alley when you were shopping for your first year at Hogwarts. It was difficult to navigate the streets of the busy wizarding shopping centre with two muggle parents, but they were kind enough to offer to buy you a pet for school.

Celeste had been the best pet you’d ever had. Unlike your boring goldfish, she was rather affectionate and could understand you well. She would cuddle onto your lap while you studied and bite at the ankles of classmates you didn’t like. While at Hogwarts, she reminded you of home, and while back in London, she reminded you of your magical school.

Sadly, you hadn’t realized that when you bought her in first year, she was already pretty old. Last year at school she started limping and moving slower than usual. Within a couple of months, she had passed away. It still made you sad to think about so you brought your attention back to Mr Weasley.

“So yeah, I suppose most of the pets are pretty similar. Except, muggles normally don’t keep rats as pets,” you explained with a laugh. Mr Weasley smiled, thanked you for talking with him, and then excused himself to finish up some work in the shed outside.

You hadn’t realized how long you were talking because when you looked outside, it was already dark.  Your eyes found their way to the clock again, forgetting it didn’t actually tell the time, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Ron’s hand was now pointing at “home.”

Standing up quickly, you brushed down your hair frantically, though you weren’t sure why. Ron had seen you at your worst, messy and covered in mud after many Quidditch matches, so you didn’t really have a reason to try to straighten your appearance out now. You sighed to yourself, your crush on him was really starting to make your head spin.

Just then, you heard the backdoor close behind you and you turned around. Standing there, clad in a familiar maroon jumper, was Ron. He looked slightly older than the last time you saw him when leaving Platform 9 and ¾, but that was only a few weeks ago. When your eyes met each others, his face broke out into a wide grin, and he took three long strides towards you before wrapping you into a tight hug.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you’re here,” he said through the hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and let yourself be engulfed in his embrace. He was much taller than you so your face was buried in his shoulder. He smelled like cinnamon and apples, just the same as his room.

“Thanks for letting me stay. I think I would’ve gone mad being cooped up in my empty house all summer,” you said once he let go of the hug.

“I think you’re already a bit mad for agreeing to spend the next few months with my hectic family, but whatever suits you,” he said, nudging your side.

You smiled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and walked you outside.

“Where is everyone? I thought I would make it back in time for dinner,” he asked, a slight frown on his face when he saw the empty tables outside. You couldn’t blame him, his mom’s cooking was so good that you would be disappointed to miss it too.

“Won Won!” Two voices in unison came from above you. Looking up, you saw Fred and George leaning their heads out of their bedroom window, sly grins on their faces. Ron’s arm slowly slipped from your shoulder and you felt your smile falter.

“Come on up here, we’ve got a surprise for you two lovebirds,” George said with a wink. The twins had taken to calling you that two years ago when they decided to forever torment you about your love life. Much to Ron’s ex-girlfriend Lavender’s dismay, they continued calling you that even when he was dating someone. You were comforted to see that Ron’s cheeks were tinted the same color as his hair at the mention of the nickname.

As you walked up the countless stairs to the twin’s room, you and Ron caught up with one another. It was easy to feel relaxed with him and soon the awkwardness from outside seemed to disappear. You were back to being best friends again, and nothing could make you happier. Well, maybe you’d be happier if he was more than your best friend…

Not bothering to knock once you reached the landing with the twin’s door, Ron pushed the door open. That probably wasn’t the smartest idea because he was immediately hit in the face with a jet of purple sparks.

“Ow,” he said, his voice nasally as he held the bridge of his nose where the sparks had hit him.

“Sorry, mate. Better knock next time. We’d never barge into your room without warning,” George said as he pulled both of you into the room and closed the door.

“Yeah, you could have a pretty lady in there, we wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Fred continued, winking at you.

You swatted his shoulder as you stalked past them, towards the pile of what looked like fireworks in the corner of their room.

“Is this what you wanted to show us? Fireworks?” You asked.

The twins then launched into a detailed story of how these weren’t just any fireworks. They told you about how they bought them off a wizard in a pub and how they were special for Percy’s birthday in August.

“Special how?” you asked suspiciously. It was common for the twins to poke fun at their prim and uptight brother, but you were sure they wouldn’t do anything too drastic.

“That’s a surprise that you will see on August 22nd. We are throwing him a birthday party, even inviting his girlfriend, so it will be the perfect place to showcase the fireworks,” George explained.

“Then why call us up here if you aren’t even going to tell us what they bloody do?” Ron asked with an annoyed voice, still nursing his bruised nose.

The twins turned to him quickly, “We wanted to talk to y/n. Now please get out.” They ushered him to the door, with annoyed protest from Ron.

“Come on! I just got to see y/n!” He complained, as they promptly shut the door in his face.

“You’ll see her tomorrow!” Fred yelled, “Also, y/n has been staying in your room so you have to sleep on the couch downstairs. Goodnight Won Won!”

The sound of Ron’s disgruntled steps retreating to the bottom floor of the house filled your ears.

“What is it?” you asked the twins impatiently, your bad temper reflecting Ron’s.

“Have you told him yet?” George asked. “You know, about your massive heart-wrenching crush on him?”

You glared at them as you sat on the windowsill. “No, and maybe I would’ve if two hooligans such as yourselves weren’t shouting at us out of the window!”

The twins nodded, “Fair enough,” they said together.

“Just make sure you tell him before Percy’s birthday party, eh?” George said, his voice sounding guilty.

“Why?” you asked, your suspicion about the fireworks returning.

“No reason at all,” he replied curtly. Then they quickly started shoving you out of the room.

“Sweet dreams!” They said together, before shutting the door in your face. You pressed your ear to the wood, hearing low whispers exchanged between them but you couldn’t make any of their words out.

Sighing with annoyance, you walked up the stairs to Ron’s room. You felt slightly guilty for staying in his room while he slept in the couch downstairs, but he did arrive late at night so you didn’t really have time to discuss sleeping arrangements.

Once you arrived at his room, you closed the door and flopped down on the bed. You were exhausted from the day, and as you changed into pajamas and crawled under the covers, your mind drifted once again to the box of letters under the nightstand. Should you ask Ron about the letters? Or would he get mad that you were snooping in his room? Deciding to leave this dilemma for tomorrow, you shut your eyes and tried to get some sleep.

Ron Weasley

Summer At The Burrow (Completed)

Introduction

Author’s Note

Chapter 1: The Journey to The Burrow

Chapter 2: Hidden Letters

Chapter 3: Ron’s Return 

Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations

Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise 

Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match

Chapter 7: Girl Talk

Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push

Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions

Chapter 10: You Would Be Fine

Chapter 11: Spell It Out

Chapter 12: Long Overdue

Chapter 13: Always Want You

Chapter 14: A Magical Ending and a New Beginning

Acknowledgements

RISE OF A SUN/FALL A STAR | harry potter au fanfiction series

ONE SHOT SERIES: a trip to diagon alley

character(s): draco malfoy | narcissa malfoy | lucius malfoy | asterope malfoy ( oc ) | maeve macleod ( oc ) | molly weasley | fred weasley | ron weasley | george weasley | ginny weasley | percy weasley | ollivander | elias black ( oc )

warning(s): main character ( asterope malfoy ) suffers from a ptsd flashback, minor violence recalled through flashback | draco malfoy is a kid and surrounded by his family thus he acts differently than how we see him act through harry’s perspective

summary: With the arrival of their Hogwarts letter, it meant that the Malfoy twins were off to Diagon Alley. Asterope Malfoy, marred by an encounter with a werewolf, has been the shame of her family so a trip to Diagon Alley meant being left in the care of their Squib maid. However, she will soon find out that being left with the Squib maid meant she could get away with things that her parents would never let her do like befriending the Weasleys and getting a pet cat.

small preview:

“I wonder what kind of wand Draco’s gonna get,” Mae says to Aurelia.

She shrugs her shoulders, studying her wand “M'not sure, probably something boring.”

Mae laughs and shakes her head “you seem real impressed with that wand of yours, wee moon.”

“Oh, I am,” Aurelia says, “I think Draco should be at Madam Maulkin’s right now, can we go there … I wanna rub it in his face that my wand is cooler than his is!”

“I don’t think he’s got his wand yet, wee moon,” Mae says.

“So, why would that stop me from bragging about my wand?”

“What if his wand ends up being cooler than yours?”

Aurelia snorts “As if… So, can we?!”

READ THE REST ON AO3 HERE!

RISE OF A SUN/FALL A STAR | harry potter au fanfiction series

ONE SHOT SERIES: not very malfoy-like

character(s): asterope malfoy ( oc ) | neville longbottom | hannah abbott | olivia newton ( oc ) | hargrid | minerva mcgonagall | draco malfoy | elias black

warning(s): none that i could find

summary: The time for Asterope Malfoy to be sorted arrives and it doesn’t go like anyone expected. Ending up in Hufflepuff is not what a Malfoy should do but Asterope had never been very Malfoy-like. Perhaps it was time for her to make her own identity.

or in which aurelia black is born …

small preview:

They come to a stop, the Sorting is about to begin. Aurelia doesn’t want to disappoint her parents. Not again. In front of her, Neville is dealing with the same fear. He wants to be in Gryffindor but he thinks it might be easier and better if he’s sorted into Hufflepuff.

Without thinking, Neville grabs Aurelia’s hand. Although, he’s wary of her because of the things Lyra had told him about her, he can’t help but find comfort in her. There’s something about her that’s oddly familiar, he can’t put his finger on it but he feels as though they’re meant to be friends. When Aurelia squeezes his hand, he realises what he has done and quickly pulls his hand away.

He goes to apologise but he falls silent as the Sorting Hat starts singing its’ song. The whole hall bursts into applause when the Sorting Hat finishes singing. It bows to each of the four tables and becomes still again.

“I’m sorry that I keep grabbing your hand.” Neville apologises.

READ THE REST ON AO3 HERE!

RISE OF A SUN/FALL A STAR | harry potter au fanfiction series

ONE SHOT SERIES: strange new people

character(s): draco malfoy | narcissa malfoy | lucius malfoy | asterope malfoy ( oc ) | maeve macleod ( oc ) | neville longbottom | hannah abbott | olivia newton ( oc )

warning(s): main character ( asterope malfoy ) has a nightmare because of the ptsd she suffers from

summary: Asterope Malfoy is finally heading to Hogwarts and before she even steps foot in the castle she’s gone and sort of befriended two Blood-Traitors and Muggle-born. The young girl always knew that Hogwarts she would meet strange new people, her Squib maid told her she would question everything she had been taught, Asterope just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. But, Asterope was a lonely child, always yearning for a love she had lost before she could even remember it properly, and she would throw everything she knew down a drain just for one good friend.

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“Maybe, try reading it out loud. Uh, that’s what my grandpa use to tell me when I would learn hard words. You — You might see it in a, uh, a new light,” Neville suggests.

Aurelia stares at him, long and hard, he turns bright red as her green eyes burn into his skull. Then she smiles and tells him that he’s brilliant, this only makes him turns even more red.

“Do you mind if I do that now?”

“No, uh, not at all. Um, go ahead,” Neville says shyly, gesturing to the book with his chubby hands.

Aurelia opens the book and begins to read, her Scottish accent transitions smoothly into a southern accent as she reads the book to him. It doesn’t take long for Neville to be lulled to sleep with her very soothing and very impressive southern accent, his head rests upon her shoulder. She’s very worried that he might drool on her but she’s even more worried about waking him up. Aurelia falls asleep shortly after him, her head comes to rest upon his head and his hair is very fluffy. Between, the rhythmic sounds of the moving train and the fact that Aurelia had been having trouble sleeping the last couple of days, it’s not long before Aurelia has fallen into a deep sleep.

READ THE REST ON AO3 HERE!

“Nice one, partner”, the pink haired woman patted the tired looking man on the back after he had successully stunned Romulus Adrian. A member of Greyback’s pack who had snuck off to do damage on his own for his pack leader. After a week long search for him the two Aurors had to undergo, they found him in a shabby shack near Knockturn Alley. There the female had been put in a headlock by the offender only to have her partner save her. Remus Lupin smirked slightly: “Oh as if you couldn’t have gotten out of this by yourself, Nymphadora.”

He put an unusual emphasis on her name, as his smirk grew. “Well, Mister Werewolf McWerewolf I couldn’t keep you from displaying your Gryffindor chivalry now, could I? And besides, I thought it to be a nice nod to ancient history to let Romulus and Remus fight each other!”, she winked at him, bending down to pick the now useless wand of Romulus Adrian up, before throwing it to the unsuspecting Remus. “Ms. Tonks, I’d suspect you haven’t been listening to our beloved Professor Binns enough in retrospect on how this fight ends, or what do you think of the amazing city called Reme?”, he playfully scolded his partner, after he had struggled to catch the wand. Though it seemed that a shadow had appeared over his features. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by the woman, who observed him closely. Her suspicions confirmed. “Why Professor Lupin, now that would have been a fitting name. But just so you know you don’t have to look like a lost puppy, whenever I bring up your name, only because you tend to be one every month! Those teary puppy eyes have always been my weakness.” At this the man’s eyes widened. Hastily, he kneeled besides the stunned body in order to secure anything suspicious. His heart seemed to speed twice as fast as usual and he couldn’t help feeling nauseous. For a while his partner observed this. Then she crouched next to him. Without noticing it her hair had adopted a mouse brown colour and her eyes had changed into honey-coloured ones, similiar to the ones she was now staring into. “Lupin. Remus. Calm down, please.”, she softly stroked his cheeks that were flushed from his obvious agitation. “We’ve been working together for a week now. I’d think you would know me a bit better than to assume I’d go running away from you, as if you were some kind of monster.” As the man only bashfully looked down at this particular word, she tried to lighten his mood: “Now come on your name is literally Werewolf McWerewolf! Seriously, and trust me I know all about bad naming!” At this he looked up. Indeed, everybody that came in contact with this bubbly young woman was aware of how much she despised her name. Still, one question burned on the tip of his tongue. “But how did you know?”, he blurted out anxiously. Nymphadora Tonks, who had been rummaging about in her little bag in the awkward little silence, looked up at this with an expression that screamed ‘seriously?’, before she produced a small chocolate bar out of her bag, only to present it to her partner: “Here. Eat up. It always helps me calm down. But you need it more right now.” She paused until Remus took the bar gratefully, after uttering a thank you to her, his expression still showing his anxiousness. “Now as for the fact that you turn once a month. You know it had been in the Daily Prophet because of that tosser Snape. And I can read, you know? But this doesn’t change anything. I also knew who I was going to be with, when I signed up for this mission with you. And Remus, I am glad that it was you I chose.” Throughout her whole speech Remus had nibbled on his chocolate bar with averted eyes. Only now, that he met her gaze again, Tonks noticed how they glimmered wet with tears. “I am glad, too.” He smiled despite his tears, which led Tonks to believe that maybe they weren’t because of sadness anymore. “I hope you’ll still be my partner for the next missions.” And almost as an afterthought he looked at her intensely, almost studying her whole face in this moment of silence. “ And Tonks, … thank you”

(George Weasley x Female!Potter!Reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

Main Masterlist

Requested by: Anon

Requests:Open

Fandom: Harry Potter (Golden Trio Era)

Request: ‘ Can you do a female X Reader where the reader is Harry’s twin sister and falls in love with George Wesley? I couldn’t find if this was your main page or not I’m sorry ‘

Thank you so much, I loved this idea. I am so sorry it took me so long I hit a sort of block. I didn’t know what to write at first, but I hope that this is okay,

Warnings: Language and poor writing.

Words: 1.8K

Disclaimer:This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01 ​ .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.

Thank you.

:)

Taglist:

@regulusblackswhorecrux​

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“George,” she laughs, pushing him away, rubbing her head, “you are such an idiot.”

(Y/n) and her twin, Harry, had arrived at the Burrow a few days before, after a bizarre meeting with their headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and it wasn’t until a few days later that she saw the twins again, finally able to set her eyes on their joke shop. Her mouth drops in awe, gazing around the store, which she couldn’t do before because George had the wonderful idea to pounce on her the second, she stepped through the door.

“I could be your idiot if you wanted me to be,” he steps in front of her and winks exaggeratively. Much to her embarrassment, her cheeks flush, and she takes in the view of him in a striped suit that matches his brother’s, except the tie, her cheeks flushing a darker shade, not noticing as he does the same to her; she wears her favourite shirt, which he immediately recognises, as well as a pair of dark blue jeans.  

“Shut up, Weasley,” she laughs, shaking her head as she pushes him away, walking past him towards Fred, “now, how about I go see my favourite twin.”

“Hey!” He laughs, which comes out rather pathetically, as he shoves his hands in his pockets and watches sadly after her. You would wince if you could see this. In fact, his youngest brother gags at the scene, earning a smack in the stomach from his future wife.

“Ronald!”

Harry, of course, does not notice the scene, eyes fixated on Ginny Weasley, acting as if she cannot feel his piercing gaze, which only leaves her rather confused.

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Many small moments followed this interaction, far more than before, but I will not explain them all, but if you did want to hear them, perhaps I could. 

The most pivotal moment is now.

It is the night before the students depart for school, meaning that all the Weasley children are gathered at the Burrow, as well as Fleur (minus Percy, who is still attempting to earn his parents’ approval) to wish their sister and brother goodbye. 

George leans against the banister, smiling fondly at the woman in front of him who is currently holding her brother in a headlock, “come on, Harry, no need to be a wimp.”

“I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” Harry is not enjoying the fact that he is being shamed in front of the woman he has already planned their entire future with. “Unlike you, I do Quidditch, so I am stronger. I’ll hit you.” Harry’s gaze hardens at the floor, shouting after his red-head best friend, who won’t stop laughing. 

“Oh yes, catching a tiny ball is such a task." 

Harry’s gasp is what makes everyone laugh, his cute noise of horror. He then pushes her down with his side, making her lose his grip, and he gets on top of her, "I’ll spit on you. Don’t make me do it." 

(Y/n) begins to scream, attempting to kick and push him away, but it’s no use. 

Ron’s already dying, and the excitement has set all the Weasley’s off as they begin to lunge for each other even Mister Weasley has a wild and free look on his face.

"Stop!" 

Everyone freezes. Ron with his hands around Fred’s tie, Fred’s foot seconds from hitting into George’s side, George pulling his sister’s hair, Ginny with her hands around Bill’s neck, Bill with his foot up Charlie’s arse and Charlie with a pillow in his hands, hovering over Ron’s head. Harry freezes, hands pinning down his sister’s wrist, (Y/n) with her foot in his stomach.

All turn to Mrs Weasley in fear, including her husband, who has his arm wrapped around George in an attempt to throw him.

"What do you think you are doing. Bill, put Ginny down right this instant!” Bill scoffs. He isn’t even touching her.

They drop each other, let go of each other, and Harry gets off (Y/n).

George helps her up, smiling down to her, tuning out his mother’s lecturing. She smiles back up at him, “thank you.”

“No problem.”

“George, (Y/n), stop staring at each other and listen to me.” Their cheeks flush and they immediately step back from each other, facing Mrs Weasley.

It was at that moment that the two began to hope that the other liked them.

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“That was pathetic, why does your sister fancy my brother?” Ron groans, attempting not to gag as he flattens down his shirt, which had been rather rustled after their scrap, very relieved that his mother had stopped lecturing them all.

“She doesn’t, you numpty.” Harry shakes his head, laughing at his friend until his gaze catches Ginny’s, who is behind Ron, the world freezing around him.

“Uh, she does, mate,” Ron pulls a face, nudging his friend, knocking him out of his stupor, and pointing over to the two who are gazing romantically into each other’s eyes. Ron once again gags.

“So, I look at Ginny just like that, and we are friends,” he laughs nervously before walking away, heading over to Hermione.

“I hope the fuck not.”

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My bad, turns out this moment is far more pivotal.

“Write to me?” (Y/n) asks hopefully, fiddling with the ends of her skirt, trying to maintain eye contact despite her internal arguments. He smiles down at her, fondly, his eyes alight with adoration. 

“I will.”

A gentle breeze makes its way through the tunnel, blowing her hair slightly in her face, making her laugh as she fumbles to push it away.

“Here, let me,” he shakes his head, biting back a smile as he raises his hand, tucking it behind her ear.

His hand hesitates, and her breath gets caught in her throat, as he moves it beneath her ear to come to cup her cheek, making her smile fall. “You look beautiful.”

Well, she would hope so, seeing as she is wearing her nicest outfit because (Y/n) knew he would be here, and she wishes to snog him at least once. Well, she likes to daydream about it. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He laughs, not dropping his hand as his eyes fall to her lips, “will I see you at Christmas.”

“You should do, yeah,” she laughs nervously, brow raised, “same as the past few years.”

“Just want to make sure.”

“Come on, (Y/n)!” Mrs Weasley shouts, attempting to look over the crowd in the station, looking for the familiar ginger hair, for where (Y/n) is, her son should be too. 

The train’s whistle sounds, causing her eyes to widen and for her to jump back, “Shit. See you at Christmas, Weasley.” She leans down, grabbing her suitcase for the journey, her trunk already aboard the train. Thinking nothing of it, apparently not realising that she is no longer daydreaming, she rises to her tiptoes, pressing a quick and hard kiss to his lips, “bye!" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy : Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mate, I still can’t believe your sister fancies George,” Ron shakes his head, flopping into the seat beside Hermione.

“He is handsome,” Hermione says, not looking up from her book, although she does notice his look of disgust, which does make her smile. “Where is she?”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” he looks out of the window, trying to catch a glimpse, “I don’t know - bloody hell!” He jumps, the whistle of the training scaring the shit out of him. Of course, it barely phases Hermione who simply looks up and out of the window, immediately finding (Y/n). “She just kissed George.”

Ron gasps, shooting up, and he presses his face against the window, “I don’t see it.” He groans in annoyance.

“So, friends kiss,” Harry looks from the window, laughing at the look of horror on his friends’ faces, “some do.”

Ron squeals when the train lurches, and he is thrown onto Harry, “please, don’t kiss me." 

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"Mistletoe,” he obviously states, stepping in front of (Y/n), his common smirk on his face, hands clasped behind his back, “but you don’t need Mistletoe, do you.”

She clasps her hands to her face, her cheeks flushed as she groans, “it was an accident.”

“I would hope so,” she drops her hands, raising a brow, “I don’t want you kissing anyone else." 

"Shove off,” she presses her hands against his waistcoat, pushing him away. George does not move instead; he places his hands on top of her own as he smiles down at her. Her heart thumps in her chest as she looks between their hands and his face. 

“If you want me to, but I would rather kiss you,” he teases. 

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“They’re kissing again,” Ron sighs, shoving a mince pie in his mouth, not noticing the looks from Harry and Ginny, who he just sat between, interrupting their own moment.

“Good for (Y/n), she’s fancied him for years.”

“No, she hasn’t, Ginny,” Harry leans forward so that he can look at her over her annoying brother, “some friends kiss.”

“We are friends, and we’ve never kissed,” Ginny points out, not yet realising that her feelings are finally returned. Harry’s cheeks flush, and he falls back into his seat, eyes finding his sister, who is now far away from the Weasley brother.

“Dean used to be your friend,” Ron mumbles through the food in his mouth.

“Shut up, so did Lavender.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy : Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on love, at this rate we’ll miss the wedding,” George knocks on his and Fred’s bedroom door, which they let to (Y/n) for the wedding. “I want a chance to show you off before the ceremony begins.”

“Shove off,” she laughs, fumbling with the front of her dress, attempting to straighten it out. She continues to go over her outfit and hair.

“Come onnnnnnn, we might even be able to sneak in a cheeky snog.”

“You’d like that very much.”

“Yes, I would,” he sighs, turning so his back is leaning against the door, “or maybe we could tell Harry instead.”

The door opens, and if it wasn’t for the hands of his girlfriend bracing against his back, he would have fallen right onto his arse, which would have been a pleasure for (Y/n) to witness.

“My brother didn’t realise we were dating that time he caught you with your hand up my skirt, he thought we were hugging,” she pushes him back up, her familiar fond smile on her face as they link arms. 

She had seen him change earlier, but he is still as handsome as he was when she first saw his suit today, so she compliments him once again, and he returns with several mumbles and stumbles.

At this rate, Harry won’t think anything of it when she births their first child. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Regulus Black x Female Reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

Main Masterlist

Requested by: Anon

Requests:Open

Fandom: Harry Potter (The Marauders Era)

Request: ‘Will u please write a regulus black x fem reader where they’re like quidditch rivals so they kinda hate eachother but at the same time they have a friends with benefits situation and one of them catches feeling but is way too scared to admit anything. But it accidentally comes out during a fight so they just kinda scream about how much they like eachother. This probably doesn’t make much sense but I hope u understand what I’m trying to say, hope u have a good <3′

I absolutely adored this idea. Please let me know if this is alright, plot wise and writing wise, haha. I am a bit rusty.

Warnings:  Swearing, sexual themes, poorly written almost smut scene (just grinding, not actual sex), (Also I didn’t say any genital words because I was getting second-hand embarrassment) complex and confusing Regulus. Reader being a smirking little sh*t at times.

Words: 2.3K

Disclaimer:This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01 ​ .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.

Thank you.

:)

Taglist:

@regulusblackswhorecrux

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“AND TEN POINTS FOR (Your house)! Well done (Y/n) (L/n)! IN YOUR FACE, BLACK!” The commentator shouts out, ignoring the disapproving look that Professor McGonagall sends their way as they cheer for their classmate. 

 (Y/n) can’t help but smirk, quirking her right brow as she searches the skies for Regulus, squinting as the wind blows her hair across her face, and as usual, the second she looks over to him, he looks away. She enjoys getting at him, but so does he; he does the same to her after all.

Shaking her head, and with a roll of her eyes, she turns to her housemate, grinning ear to ear as they both fist bump both hands in the air. The stalls fill with cheers as she scores the first goal after ten minutes. (Y/n) is not one to brag, but she cannot help but act like the younger version of James Potter when it comes to the youngest Mister Black. She does not search for praise either, but it is entertaining getting at the boy, and she enjoys fuelling the flames. She ignores how the wind throws her hair in front of her eyes as she sets off again, robes flying behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“What are you playing at?” A familiar voice calls as she heads down the clear hallway. Not turning, she continues, quirking her brow again as she subconsciously begins to play with the collar of her shirt.

“I’m heading to my common room to celebrate my victory,” she smirks, hearing the footsteps falter behind her before he huffs, and they speed up again. Her hair blows back as she walks past an open window in the passage, reminding her of the conditions of the game, which had started windy before turning into a torrential downpour - well, it felt like so.

“You did not win,” Regulus smirks, slowly down his steps to match hers as he comes beside her. “And that bragging on the pitch was incredibly dumb; you made a complete fool of yourself. It amazes me more and more each day as you continue to disappoint your family name.” He turns up his nose before wrinkling it further as the wind hits him, and he hurriedly attempts to flatten his hair.

“My family name!” She scoffs, “at least mine is full of good people and does not have webbed feet. And, I di -” She cuts herself short as she turns to face him, her cheeks flushing as (Y/n) watches him - although, (Y/n) would have preferred that it was her touching and griping at his dark locks, not that she hasn’t before. 

“You know that I do not have webbed feet, you imbecile, and at least my magic is pur-”, He stops his grumbling for a second, lowering his hands as they come to a stop, “catching feelings, are we (L/n)?”

“Don’t be daft, Black, and I have seen your feet, you are basically a Merman,” she rolls her eyes, trying to ignore her cheeks that continue to flush a darker shade, despite her protests as she begins to walk again, clasping her Quidditch bag tighter in her hand. “Who’s making a fool of themselves now?” She musters the courage to turn to him again, ignoring the flutters in her belly as he matches her, quirking his brow with a smirk.

“Still you." 

There are a few moments of silence, not entirely comfortable as (Y/n) finds her eyes darting back and forth to either side of her - fighting internally rather pathetically - while he only gazes at the floor, clutching his backpack tighter. 

"Why are you here?” (Y/n) inhales deeply, biting her lip as she clenches her eyes shut. Wow, this is why she got bullied as a child. 

He turns to her, eyes wide, but his frown turns upwards for a split second as he sees her expression; it falls before she opens her eyes and meets his, both stopping once again, this time inconveniently on a tower’s staircase.  

Now, there are many ways that this moment could go. One, Regulus could confess his feelings, and the two can shag happily for the rest of their lives - or on this staircase at least. Two, (Y/n) could reject him, and everyone will find out, he will never live to see a day and will die of embarrassment as well as shame. Three, he could fuck up. Four, he could listen to previous advice his brother gave him on girls when he spoke to him - and fuck up.

“Want to fu- frolic?” He chuckles nervously. Curse his brother he almost listened to him - that is why his brother will die alone, unlike him. 

(Y/n) makes a noise at the back of her throat, eyes wide, “we’ve been shagging for weeks, and you have just referred to it as ‘frolicking’?”

His lips curl, and he straightens his posture. 

No, curse him for nearly getting nervous over (Y/n) (L/n) - as if! “Just wanted to make sure that you were still down; after that pathetic stunt you pulled as if you were better than me, you may have scored more than me, but unlike you, I can win a game.” She rolls her eyes, so what if he, the seeker caught the snitch, his team mate barely scored the extra ten points that got them to win; it is not that hard to catch a Quaffle and throw it. Her mouth forms into a snarl as she allows him to continue. “Why else would I come to talk to you, you idiot?”

“Ah yes, I forgot, I am the only girl who will allow you to fuck her.” She continues to walk again, and Regulus rolls his eyes, raising a finger to say his point, but she continues, not caring for him behind her. “How does it feel, knowing that the only girl who will let you shag her is a woman you hate?” Her eyes gleam as she spins on her heels, unable to control the words that continue, “a woman who sees you as a last resort." 

There’s a pause as he freezes in his steps - having begun to go after her - she mirrors his actions.

"Fuck you.”

“Gladly.”

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(Y/n) clenches her eyes shut as she grips at his hair, ignoring the slight sting as he pushes her against the stone wall. Oh, how she loves - sorry - enjoys his hair. How can it be so soft?

His teeth nip as her neck, as he places his leg between her thighs. With his right hand, he slowly slides it down her waist, leaving sparks of fire in its wake before gently curving it beneath her thigh as he lifts her to wrap her legs around his hips, her skirt now barely covering her hips. He groans, adoring the way her skin feels familiar and the heat that makes its way through his trousers; he gently begins to rub circles with his thumb before doing the same with his left hand, moving it from its position beside her head, pinning her to the wall.

Her breath wavers, the outline of his most private area pressed directly against the right place of her own, and her thighs subconsciously clench around his hips. He chuckles against her neck, beginning to pepper kisses along the entire length of her collarbone. Then, he rolls his hips, nestling his head in her neck as he elicits a moan from the two of them. (Y/n) bites her lip as he finally does it again, tightening her grip that is now on his shoulders.

He grins, glancing up to her for a second, enjoying her expression before repeating his previous motions, in the opposite direction across her collarbone, “No need to be quiet, (L/n), this wouldn’t be the first time that-”

“Fuck you.”

“Gladly,” he smirks.

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Regulus Black glares daggers at his previously good friend Barty Crouch Junior (they were close until he realised just how creepy that boy was. Some people must get too comfortable, he supposes.) Of course, this does not mean that Barty lacks charisma, looks, or the ability to fool just about anyone - even his father. Bloody Crouch.

Regulus glances up from his book in the library as he attempts to catch a quick glimpse of the two who are on the opposite side of the table next to him. Despite the table being big enough to fit eight, Crouch must sit next to her. He nearly has a heart attack when Crouch turns to the laughing girl, tucking some hair gently behind her ear. Her cheeks are flushed, and he cannot ignore the way her hands tighten their grip around her quill. She may be enjoying this, but Regulus most certainly is not.

He goes to stand up, but he stops. (Y/n) isn’t his girlfriend, and she has free will. She can make her own decisions. She is simply a quick shag. Well, it’s never quick.

Her gaze ends up meeting his, and whatever she was about to say has quickly died in her throat. The golden glow of the sun reaches the window behind him, illuminating him in an awe-striking glow. She can’t help but smile, the incessant boy next to her long-forgotten, and despite his fury, the ends of his lips curl upwards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you playing at?” Once again, Regulus Black finds himself storming after the (h/c) haired pain in his arse. She ignores him, but he quickly catches up, coming to a stop in front of her. 

She rolls her eyes and tries to step out past her, but before she can, he cuts her off. “You are not my boyfriend, husband, nor keeper. Please, be gone.” She sighs, and with a sarcastic smile, tries to step past him again. Of course, he does the same as before. 

His lips curl as he glares down to her, “I think I should know who else you are sleeping with, seeing as you could be riddled with disease.”

She gasps, her own stare hardening into a glare as she bites back several rude comments,

“And what about you? I should know too.”

Why must he always confront her in empty hallways?

His snarl falters, as does his posture, “I beg your pardon.”

She continues to glare, taking a step forward, making him take a step back. “Come on, Black.

You want to know who I shag, and I want to know the same about you.”

He tries to ignore the sting in his heart as she basically confirms their relationship, and he shoves his hands in his trousers’ pockets.

“None of your business. I am of the Noble House of B - don’t roll your eyes at me!”

(Y/n) continues to step forward, making him stumble until the usual tables are reversed, and she has him against the wall.

“Fuck off and go shag, Barty!” His voice cracks a little bit, making his cheeks flush as he presses the palms of his hands against the wall. Thankfully, he does not embarrass himself too much as he maintains eye contact with her. 

“Why? Want to watch?" 

His cheeks flush just like hers already is, but he does not notice. "How dare you suggest such a thing! I am - I am -”

“You are what?" 

There is a pause, and (Y/n) begins to grin, realising that she has won. He could lie and say he is shagging many, or he could…

He sighs, "I am only sleeping with you.” He groans internally, wishing he knew how to shut up.

She falters, eyes wide and cheeks flushing to a rosier shade, “liar.”

His eyes dart open, his jaw drops, “I beg your pardon!”

She scoffs, shaking her head at him before turning on her heels, heading away, flashing him two fingers as she leaves.

“What the fuck?” He whispers to himself, staring down to the ground. Then, he shakes his head, and this time, he runs after her. 

To clarify, one of the Noble House of Black does not run.

“Who do you think you are?” She ignores him, continuing on. “You are infuriating.” She continues to ignore him, taking a sharp turn into a quieter route to her common room, as well as faster. “What is wrong with you.”

She suddenly stops, and he would have walked right into her had he not the quick reflexes from Quidditch. She spins on her heels, glaring at him. For a second, he freezes in awe of her beauty and fierceness, but he quickly controls it.

“What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you!” She takes another step forward, but he does not falter, continuing to stare her down, maintaining her posture. “I have been nothing but honest, and you are nothing but a nasty little boy!”

“Me!” He scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest, “I am always honest. You are dishonest!”

“Liar!”

“Stop calling me that!” They are shouting now, and it would not surprise either if their classmates could hear them squabbling now. 

“ Fuck you! Then tell me a truth.”

“No, thank you!” Now, that is something that Regulus thought he would never say. “You do it first!”

“Fine!” (Y/n) glares, and she does not even take a breath before she says this, “I am not sleeping with anyone else; I never have because I love you!” For a second, she is proud, knowing she has demonstrated more honesty until she realises what she has said. Her eyes widen, her breath gets caught in her throat as her eyes begin to well slightly but not in an embarrassing way, like no way is she going to be (Y/N) and cry.

His own eyes widen, his heart stuttering, and before a moment could settle between them, he gently raised his left hand to cup her cheek, thumb wiping away a single tear that had escaped before curling his right hand around her waist. Gently he leans down, her own eyes gently closing, followed by this as his lips carefully meet hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

All soulmates are the same

(Teddy Lupin x female reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

Main Masterlist

Requested by: Anon

Fandom:Harry Potter (Next Generation Era)

Request:‘Hi could you please do a teddy lupin x fem reader soulmate au, I just read your regulus black soulmate au and I loved it so much’

Thank you so much!

I hope you enjoy my idea and scenario!

Warnings:Language and mentions of violence.

Words:1.4K

This is now a part of the Soulmate Series, there is a Regulus one too on my masterlist. (This is why I have tagged Regulus in case you like the idea of a soulmate au and want to read the Regulus one.)

Disclaimer:This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog: @daydreams-magic01​ .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.

Also thank you to the Anon who brought the ‘x male reader’ tag to my attention, in my ask box, it was accidental and due to autocorrect, as I had it on, which I did not realise. I immediately removed it upon reading the ask. I understand how irritating it can be having the wrong tags and I apologise. From now on, I will double check. Have an amazing day ! :)

Thank you.

:)

“Mate, she is my soulmate.”  Edward Lupin brags, removing his gaze on her for one second to his god-brother, “see, we are a match made in heaven." 

James rolls his eyes, nudging him with his hip to get a better look at the courtyard below, "she is too fit for you, you lanky fuck." 

Teddy holds back the urge to pull at the arrogant boy’s hair and instead decides to make a change, "but I can look like anyone, remember?”

The younger boy screams once he turns around, an identical boy with a smirk mirroring his own, “Merlin. Stop doing that, you freak. And I am too young, remember?” The older boy laughs, flashing the Potter the reversed peace sign before changing his form into an older, slightly different version of him.

James raises a brow, shaking his head, “not my Grandad, bro.” He looks down in shame, skin stretching as he grows an inch or two to return to himself. His hair remains black for another minute or so before flashing ginger and then turquoise. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, soulmate,” Teddy flirts, spinning around the pillar to appear in front of her. He flashes her a smile, discretely taking in her appearance of skinny jeans and a white top.

(Y/n’s) cheeks flush as she tucks some hair behind her ear, smiling up to him, “Teddy.” She takes in his appearance as he towers over her, clad in loose jeans, a black belt and a white button-up covered by a brown jumper. She thanks Merlin that it’s the weekend because Lupin looks extraordinary in muggle clothes. 

“So, do you admit that I am your soulmate?” He crosses his arms, smiling, as he leans on his elbows against the wall.

“You aren’t, Lupin. Now, please, leave me alone,” she flashes him a smile, fed up with his constant need for attention, and spins on her heels. For years, he has been convinced that they are soulmates, but he is yet to figure out their soul mark. (Y/n), of course, already knows her mark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mate, how can you get her when you don’t even know your soul mark,” Fred Jr laughs, shaking his head at his friend as he reads over his Herbology textbook. He can’t wait to meet his soulmate either, longing for the day that he can hold her in his arms, but at the same time, he isn’t ready.

Edward is very much ready.

The two are in the library, clad in their uniform, and they sit by the window, parchment and quills sprawled out around them.

“I’ll figure it out,” he beams, placing his hands on his hips proudly as he puffs out his chest. Fred raises a brow and glances at him for a second before looking back down to his book. He is surprised that Teddy hasn’t figured it out; almost everyone else has. 

“Go on then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is that a rock?” (Y/n) whispers into his ear, making him jump. She laughs as he turns on his heels, rock still in his hand. However, his eyes still look panicked, making her frown. 

“Hi.”

She looks behind him, to where he was aiming. Funnily enough, she knows that corner nook very well. Her eyes flash from the spot to him as her brows furrow, “were you trying to throw a rock at me?”

“No.” He flashes his teeth nervously, tucking his dominant hand behind him, dropping the rock. “Soulmates aren’t supposed to hurt each other.”

“You were!” She ignores the last part, not wanting to say something that she is later going to regret. “Why would you do that?” She throws her hands in the air, refraining from shouting out several profanities.

“I wanted to…” he whispers the next bit, making (Y/n’s) brows shoot up as she crosses her arms. He sighs and raises his voice, “I wanted to find out what our soul mark was.”

(Y/n) sighs, clenching her eyes shut, and she takes a step back, “Are you stupid?” His jaw drops, and he mirrors her actions. “Everyone knows that all soulmates are the same." 

Sighing once again, she spins on her heels and walks away, leaving Teddy very confused.

Throwing his arms in the air, he shouts out, "what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You threw a rock at her!” Fred snorts, biting his lip to prevent him from laughing carelessly loud in the library. 

Rolling up a piece of parchment, Teddy hits him over the head, holding himself back from strangling him. “I was going to. I didn’t actually do it.”

“Well, clearly, you aren’t soulmates if you tried to hurt her, you bellend.” Fred scoffs, shaking his head again at the foolish and eager boy. He sighs in relief once they exit, raising his voice to normal volume, “did you do that essay for Binns?”

“Yes, yes, I did.” Teddy clears his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets, “and I wasn’t trying to hurt her, you wanker, I was aiming for her leg.”

Fred snorts again, making the boys gaze flicker back at him as he scrunches his nose, “ ‘aiming for her leg’, my arse.”

“Hey! I wanted to see if we share pain.”

Fred freezes in the middle of the corridor and spins on his heels, the back of his shirt flowing slightly, “there are better ways to go by it.”

Teddy mirrors his actions, his robes swirling around him.

“You don’t say.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) screams, jumping back as a slightly muscular, lanky, curled body rolls out in front of her. 

Teddy pushes himself up, throwing his arms around like a windmill as he looks out for her reaction.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” (Y/n’s) cheeks flush as she hears her friends giggles behind her, her own jaw dropped.

He suddenly kicks into the air, lips pressed together, causing her to jump back again. 

After a few more furious actions, he stops, shoulders sagging, “it won’t work." 

She doesn’t speak, not taking her eyes off him as he looks to the ground, sighing, "maybe we aren’t soulmates.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Edward Lupin stopped trying to throw rocks at her, doing flips in front of her and pulling up her sleeves, (Y/n) was relieved - a bit sad - but mostly relieved.

However, after barely days of watching him mope about and gaze after her, she has begun to feel rather sad.

“Hi,” she says, sliding onto the wall next to him. She watches as he looks up for barely a second before looking back into his lap, uttering a greeting.

Smiling sadly, she reaches her hand forward, shaking slightly, and places it on top of his. This time when he looks back up, he does not look back down. His brows furrow as a smile graces his lip, a contagious one which spreads to (Y/n). 

She strums her fingers, and thankfully, he understands, spreading his fingers to make room for her own as they interlink. “All soulmates are the same.”

“Sorry?” He asks, his smile unable to fall, as he looks down at her. 

“After the war, soul marks changed,” she explains, “I guess to boost the wizarding population, but now, it is easier to find your soulmates." 

"I don’t understand.”

She chuckles softly under her breath, looking down at their hands for a second. She looks back up at him, her smile widening, “nowadays, most soulmates have an extra matching birthmark.”

His mouth forms an 'o’ shape, which falls as soon as she lifts her other hand to the back of his neck. He tenses, shivering as he pushes back some of his curly locks.

“If I am correct,” she starts, a sigh in relief following soon after, “Thank God.”

“What?” He asks, nervously turning to her as she places both hands in her lap, his fingers reaching out for a second to feel her fingers again before dropping on her leg.

She jumps slightly, heat flaring in her cheeks. 

“It’s exactly what I thought:  all soulmates are the same.”

He raises a brow, freezing as she leans in.

“Soulmate,” she whispers, pressing her lips against his cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

what about us — draco malfoy

pairing:draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: to cast a patronus charm, you must recall the happiest moment of your life. for reader, the memory is something unexpected.

a/n:this is my first time writing in a while so i hope you guys like it !!! highkey inspired by the song “what about us” by p!nk so i recommend listening to the slowed version of that song on repeat. yes the slowed version bc it hits different :d 

When [Y/N] first says the words Expecto Patronum, nothing quite happens.

When she raises her wand, closes her eyes, and blocks everything else out, just like Harry had instructed her when he gingerly put one hand over her own and the other on her waist, guiding her stance—nothing happens.

When she searches through her memories for—what was it Harry had said?—the happiest moment of her life, her wand doesn’t even let out the faintest tendril of white smoke.

When she decides to think of when Harry had first told her that he fancied her, and all of their other moments, of their first kiss under the mistletoe, of how he always rushes to her after winning a Quidditch match with the biggest grin on his face, of his cheeky grins and his lame jokes..

When she thinks of Harry, her boyfriend of one year now—

Nothing happens.

Maybe she isn’t focusing hard enough.

Maybe she needs to think of something a little more profound, like the first time Harry had ever told her he loved her. Shy and hesitant but true, as they sat by the Black Lake, their hands shyly resting an inch or two apart.

Maybe she’s just not cut out for this kind of magic.

”It’s not—“ she huffs out, dropping her wand back at her side, evidently frustrated at herself as she turns to meet Harry’s gaze. “It’s not working.”

Harry gives her a half-amused, half-sympathetic smile. “It’s not going to happen right away,” he tells her, eyes silently surveying the rest of the Room of Requirement, watching as the other members of Dumbledore’s Army flick and jab their wands at the air helplessly, some able to produce tiny bursts of wispy white smoke and others having achieved absolutely no progress at all—just like [Y/N].

Turning his gaze back to [Y/N], Harry suggests sheepishly, “Sure you’ve got a happy enough memory?” His lips quirk up into a toothy grin. “It better not be eating pancakes—you need something far stronger than that.”

[Y/N] rolls her eyes, smiling despite herself. “I realize that, Harry, thanks.” She scrunches her nose at him, and revels in the way his eyes shine with fondness. Grin falling slightly, she looks down at her wand as she twirls it in her hand. “I thought it was a pretty strong memory. I thought of..“

She trails off, letting the rest of her words die down somewhere in her throat.

For some reason, [Y/N] lies. “My seventh birthday,” she continues, wondering if Harry had heard the waver in her voice. And then she wonders why it had wavered in the first place.

Or maybe she already knows why—wouldn’t it be slightly worrying for Harry to know that her memories with him weren’t enough to conjure a Patronus?

“Something stronger, maybe?” Harry suggests, pursing his lips, eyebrows raised. And then he wiggles his brows playfully, playing it off as casual, but [Y/N] hears the slight twinge of hopefulness in his voice when he suggests, “D’you wanna try thinking of your boyfriend, maybe?”

[Y/N] feels something akin to guilt pang at her chest. Despite it, she smiles at Harry—and lies. Again. “Maybe I should,” she says softly, not quite holding his eyes all the way, instead turning away to raise her wand in front of her once more.

Maybe she just needs to try harder. She raises her arm again, taking a deep breath through her nose.

The happiest one you can think of.

[Y/N] closes her eyes. She can feel Harry watching her, ready to sweep her into his arms the moment the wispy white tendrils coming from her wand starts to take even the vaguest of forms.

I can do this.

She blocks everything out: the echoed incantations of “Expecto Patronum” all around her, the delighted shrieks, the awed gasps, and even Harry, until all that she can sense is her and the memory inside her head that she knowsis there—she can feel it. All she has to do is concentrate.

Another deep breath, and she’s closer. And in her mind she sees it as a blinding glimmer of white light, and her fingers are outstretched..

And then it comes.

A memory.

But not of Harry.

The first thing she sees is a flash of platinum blond hair.

And then grey eyes. A mischievous smirk. Pale skin. The sound of laughter.

“Draco!”

She is eight years old, chasing a boy down a garden, watching as he disappears with a loud laugh behind a tall statue of his great great grandfather. [Y/N] can see his elbow poking out. a moment later—his eyes.

Grey. Glimmering with happiness.

“You’ll never catch me!” yells Draco, hopping out from behind the statue. He picks a stick up from the ground and brandishes it towards her, shouting, “Stupideus Maximus!”

[Y/N] feels a flare of challenge rear up inside her. She tries for a threatening scowl, but the grin tugging on her lips can’t be helped. “That’s not even a real spell, you dunderhead!” she yells, looking wildly around her for a stray branch. Once she’s managed to locate one a foot away, she hurriedly grabs it, and much like Draco, holds it aloft like a wand and points it towards him. “Ugleus Draconeus!” she barely gets the words out through her giggles. “Oh, wait, that won’t work, you’re already ugly!”

“Hey!” outraged, Draco drops his makeshift wand. In what seems like a half-second, he’s tackling her to the ground, sending the two of them crashing into the grass, a rolling, laughing mess of tangled limbs and delighted shrieks.

“Geroffme!” [Y/N] yelps, flailing about on the ground. “Your stench is killing me—”

“That’s rich, I know for a fact you haven’t showered in two days—”

“Hey!”

“Ow!”

And then everything is melting away, like paint dripping on canvas, like ice held over a flame, colors condensing into each other, moving up and down, sideways, breaking apart, morphing into something else, and suddenly the sound of childish laughter is replaced by the sound of someone humming, and beyond that, a fire crackling in a hearth.

There is a boy resting his head on her lap. His hair is platinum blond.

She is raking her fingers through his strands almost absentmindedly. Like this is nothing more than habit, this ridiculously comfortable dynamic; [Y/N] humming under her breath, Draco with his eyes half-closed, her playing with his hair, the rest of the Slytherins far too used to the sight to question why there’s a Gryffindor sitting in their common room.

The tune she’s humming is a familiar one. It doesn’t belong to a song; just a random bunch of notes, over and over again, the same one they have hummed to each other over the years.

She pauses to ask: “Are you staying here for Christmas?”

Draco makes a sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t know.” He shifts slightly, eyes still mostly closed. “Are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Bloody great. I’m going to have to put up with you singing carols all week at the manor again.” But [Y/N] sees the smile on the corners of his lips. He’s pleased.

Her hand remains carding gently through Draco’s hair. Like she’s already calming him down, even before she’s broken the news to him.

“Actually..” she begins softly, looking down at him, waiting for his eyes to blink open with disbelief. “The Weasleys..”

She feels him go just the slightest bit rigid, but she keeps going, huffing slightly at the shift in Draco’s mood. She’d been expecting this, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it. “They’ve asked me to spend Christmas with them,” she says quietly, hating the guilt that pinches at her. She has to remind herself, momentarily, that she has nothing to feel guilty about.

Draco keeps his eyes closed. [Y/N] sees the tight set of his lips.

“And you said yes,” he doesn’t phrase it like a question.

Another pinch of guilt. She hates this one even more. “I did.”

Her hand has stopped carding through his hair. Draco shifts on where he’s laying on the couch, and for a moment [Y/N] thinks he’s going to get up and leave.

But instead he nods and stays, and for some reason that is even worse.

“Okay.”

[Y/N]  lets out a sigh. “I know you don’t like them, but—”

“Will Potter be there?”

She closes her eyes briefly. When she opens them again, Draco’s are open, too, but he is staring into the fireplace. “Does it matter?”

[Y/N] reads the answer in his tense jaw, in his stiff shoulders, in his eyes:

Yes.

But Draco is proud, and he would never admit it: that he feels like Harry is stealing her from him again, the same way he’s been doing for the past few years. He remembers all their cancelled Hogsmeade trips this year so that she could go with Harry and the Weasleys instead. All the times she told him she was busy, that she had somewhere else to be, somewhere with Harry.

Always with Harry, ever since she’d been sorted into Gryffindor. Draco knows both he and [Y/N] have been trying to keep whatever they have between each other alive, but it doesn’t help that she’s in a different house. All she has left with him are these moments: sneaking into the Slytherin common room so they can spend a few hours together, only to exchange the briefest of “hi"s the next day.

Draco can’t tell her how disappointed he feels. He’s far too proud for that. So instead he says, "No. It doesn’t,” even though both of them know otherwise.

[Y/N] grimaces, ignoring the twang in her chest as she moves her hand to poke his cheek. “You sure?”

She thinks Draco could have smiled. It certainly looked like he was close to it, despite everything.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Another tentative poke.

Draco bites his lip like he’s trying to stay serious, but he ends up laughing anyway. Smiling in an almost resigned way, he rolls his eyes, reaching up to grab her wrist and pry her finger away from his cheek. “Yes, woman. I said yes.”

[Y/N]  grins, at ease now that she knows the tension has faded. “You sure?”

“Bloody—”

She knows as soon as Draco starts to sit up that he plans on tickling her, so she shoves him off instantly and makes a break for a random door in the corner of the common room.

Which, as it turns out, is the seventh year boys’ dorm.

When she dashes back out, blushing furiously, Draco is clutching his stomach in the spot where she’d left him, tears of laughter leaking out of his eyes.

[Y/N] blinks, and she is in the Malfoy manor.

She is rushing up the marble steps with her hand clutched in Draco’s. He’s tugging her along, through familiar hallways, through a familiar doorway, and stopping in front of a familiar window.

“I haven’t been up here in ages,” Draco says, sounding almost exhilarated. He’s rolling up his dress shirt sleeves, reaching up to unlock the window and let through a cold breeze.

[Y/N]  smirks. “Too scared to go up without me?”

Draco makes a face at her.

They can still hear the party downstairs; the orchestra and its repetitive clash of instruments, the clinking of wine glasses, rich pureblooded families talking over one another, fake laughter, her parents complimenting Draco’s for hosting such a fabulous party..

Draco and [Y/N] have always hated these parties, and they still do. And so now here they are—away from everything and everyone else but each other, because they can’t seem to stand anyone else.

[Y/N]  pulls off her heels, setting them on the floor for when she and Draco come back later. With practiced movements, she hoists herself up onto the windowsill, barely even registering the feeling of Draco’s hands on her waist as he guides her out of the window.

“You alright?”

Gripping the frame of the window for support, she steps into the cold night air.

“Yeah,” she exhales.

She knows her way up now, so there’s not as much panicking as there was the first time she and Draco had pulled this stunt. Instead, she hoists herself up to the roof with little to no hassle, Draco behind her all the way. What feels like mere moments later the two of them are seated next to each other on the edge of the roof, nothing but the vast expanse of sky above them.

It may be summer, but the night is still cold and brings with it a bitingly cold breeze. A few seconds is all it takes for [Y/N]  to start regretting not having brought a coat up with her.

“Blimey, I’ve missed this,” Draco is saying, looking down at the grounds below them. It’s dark and they can’t see much, but that makes the sight all the more magical. The garden is dimly lit by floating orbs, which waft around like faeries, casting an ethereal glow over the tall hedges. “I’ve been here a couple times, but it’s a lot lonelier when I’m just by myself, you know?”

“Really?” [Y/N] glances over at him, grinning despite the cold. She rubs her palms over her arms. “You mope here by yourself, Draco Malfoy?”

Draco rolls his eyes. “It’s a nice place to think. Are you cold?”

“Nice to know my purposely exaggerated shivering has finally caught your attention.”

He throws his head back in a laugh. “If you wanted my jacket, you could have just said.”

[Y/N] flicks her eyebrows up at him. “And give up my pride?”

“Pride or hypothermia? Up to you.” Draco has shrugged off his suit jacket, but he’s holding it out in front of her, lips quirked into a teasing smirk.

“Oh, give me that,” [Y/N] mutters, snatching it off his hands to drape it across her shoulders. Grinning, Draco leans over to help her fit it over her form. “Thanks. I suppose chivalry might not be dead, after all.”

“It’ll be alive as long as I am.” Draco settles back down next to her, propping his elbows on his raised knees.

An amused scoff. [Y/N] jabs him on the side.

They fall quiet after that, until all that is left between them is silence—except it doesn’t feel quite as comfortable as it should.

That, [Y/N] supposes, is what happens when you leave too many things unsaid.

But it’s not like she has a choice, because what would Draco say if she lets loose everything that she has been holding back, knowing that he won’t take kindly to them?

What would Draco say if she tells him about how, after four years, she doesn’t regret being sorted into Gryffindor anymore?

What would he say if she tells him about how the “blood-traitor” Weasleys make her happy in a way that her own family has never done?

What would he say if she tells him that she is happy, even if they’re no longer spending as much time together as they used to?

What would Draco say if she tells him that Harry confessed to fancying her?

”Why are you looking at me like that?”

[Y/N]  blinks herself out of her reverie. She’d been staring at Draco.

She only realizes this now, and swallows, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

Draco fixes her with his gaze, something unreadable dancing just behind his eyes. [Y/N], who had been busying herself with the lapels of his suit jacket, glances at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she mutters.

”Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me or something, I don’t bloody know. It’s weird.“

Draco lets out a quick breath of laughter, but it only takes a second or two before it’s replaced by that same sort of taut silence, where the only sound between them is that of tree leaves rustling in the distance and the music from the hall below.

And then—“Would it really be that weird?”

[Y/N] waits for a lone, floating orb to disappear behind a garden hedge before she turns her head to look at Draco. “Would what be weird?” It’s dark and she can’t quite see him properly, only the side of his face that’s illuminated by the faintest traces of moonlight. She can make out his eyes, though, but they are as unreadable as ever.

Draco shifts on where he sits. His eyes move down and away from hers, almost hesitant, and then back up. [Y/N] blinks at him, waiting, oddly feeling like she’s edging closer and closer to the edge of a cliff with no idea what’s waiting for her down below.

When he speaks again, his voice is quiet. “If I kissed you.”

[Y/N] wonders how she may have looked at that moment. Her eyes would have widened by just the tiniest bit, lips falling open slightly in mild surprise.

Something about her expression must have jarred Draco, because he lets out another one of his quick laughs—more of a ragged exhale than a laugh, really—and shakes his head, quickly looking away. “Of course it would be weird,” he breathes out. “Forget I said that.”

Around Draco, she usually always knows what to say. Conversation with him flows easily, words bouncing back and forth without a hitch in their seemingly effortless rhythm. It’s been that way for as long as she can remember. But now [Y/N] finds herself struggling, mouth open but unable to say anything at all. All she can do is stare, watching as the forced smile on Draco’s face fades and his fingers curl in on themselves.

“I mean..” She mulls the question over and over in her head, but there is only one answer that she can think of.

[Y/N] lets out a huff-like breath through her nose. “Not really.”

Draco freezes.

If it were daytime, he would see the suddenly pink hue of her cheeks, but the midnight sky saves her from the humiliation.

She swallows, ignoring the almost constricting sensation in her chest that feels like several hundred butterflies have come to life and are now fluttering around inside of her ribcage. “We’ve done weirder things together, haven’t we?” she mutters, face turned to him but not able to look at him straight in the eye, either. “Like that one time we danced the hokey pokey with one of your house-elves when we were—what, like, six? And that other time w—”

Draco moves, an infinitesimal shift, and suddenly his lips are pressed against hers, and [Y/N] feels her limbs seize up with surprise. She can feel him, taste him, the soft swell of his mouth and the faint hint of dessert left behind on his lips. And then, along with it, something warm flaring up inside of her chest, leaving her leaning in, relaxing into him, wanting more and more and more, as much of him as she could possibly get.

The strength and suddenness of her desire is what startles her back to herself. She flinches and pulls back, eyes blinking open. Draco’s face is mere inches away from hers. She has a split-second, only a split-second, to see his face framed in the moonlight: his tousled blond hair and the swell of his lips, which are still half-forming a kiss.

Draco recoils, looking just as surprised at his own actions as [Y/N] is. “I—” he begins, the very same moment [Y/N] opens her mouth and tries to say, “Do—”

They pause. Stare at each other, as though properly drinking the events of the past few seconds in.

[Y/N] isn’t sure which one of them starts laughing first, but before she knows it their shoulders are shaking, lips breaking out into wide grins, their laughter filling the night air, echoing across the garden. It isn’t hysterical laughter—not the kind two people share after a particularly funny joke—instead it’s the kind of quiet, exhilarated laughter that comes after doing something particularly daring, the kind that sounds like I cannot believe I just did that.

The good kind.

The happiest moments of [Y/N]’s life.

At the end of her wand bursts the blinding, dazzling figure of a silvery-white animal. A magnificent eagle, soaring over the heads of the members of Dumbledore’s Army, its wings spread wide in free flight as it glides elegantly around the Room of Requirement.

Harry has swept her into his arms, grinning. He’s saying something—words of praise; “You did it, I knew you could do it"—and [Y/N] is smiling back, nodding, but there is an ache in her chest that wasn’t there before, and memories lingering in her head that she thought she’d set aside for the better. But now that they’ve been let back loose, it seems there is no getting rid of them.

Of platinum blond hair and grey eyes and laughter on quiet rooftops. Of stolen kisses amidst parties that neither of them enjoy. Of Draco Malfoy, a boy she once adored.

There are tears in her eyes, she realizes, but she plays them off as tears of happiness even though they are anything but. Harry laughs at her apparent mawkishness.

[Y/N] is quiet during dinner that night. She can’t bring herself to eat much, nor to join in on the conversation at the Gryffindor table. Harry has caught on to her change in mood, and he keeps squeezing her hand underneath the table to make sure she’s okay, but [Y/N] can’t offer him much beyond a halfhearted smile of reassurance.

She can’t stop thinking about earlier. About how her memories with Harry weren’t happy enough, whereas Draco’s..

[Y/N] hates to admit it, but she isn’t as surprised at this as she should be. Part of her, she realizes, has always known that Draco brought her a kind of happiness nothing and no one ever could.

Not even her bloody boyfriend.

But there’s a reason why she and Draco have been distant this year. His hatred for her friends, his jealousy for Harry, his refusal to understand that they’re good people, Draco, why should blood status matter?

There’s a reason why their first kiss had been their last.

There’s a reason why [Y/N] chose Harry over him.

She senses someone’s gaze on her, but she knows who it belongs to even before she looks up.

When she raises her head, their eyes meet from all the way across the Great Hall, reaching across the hundreds of students between them, across the distance that feels so much larger than it really is.

There was a reason, Draco, [Y/N] thinks.

His grey eyes are unreadable. She wonders if he can see the silent apology in her own.

There was a reason.

general taglist: @dancing-in-the-moonlight3@kalimagik@alittletoomanyobsessions@hariosborn@obsessedwithrandomthings@emcchi@sxrensxngwrites@enjoying-fantasyland21@masterofthedarkness@siriusly-addicted-to-writing@bforbroadway@hufflefluff-writer@summer-writes-words@chaotic-fae-queen@firewhisky-kisses@dracosvftie@heloisedaphnebrightmore@idont-knowrn@dreamer821@decalcomanei​ @slytherinprincess03@chocfrogaddict@nebulablakemurphy@lumielikesbooks​@teheharrypotter​@susceptible-but-siriusexual​@chaoticgirl04​@imboredandneedalife​@mytreecko​@starryskins​@mariah-can-dream​@inglourious-imagines​@xxinvisiblexx​@kpopgirlbtssvt​ 

Word Count: 1014

Warning(s):Angst???

Request:hello! I dont know if you do any marauders oneshots but if you do can you write one where the reader and sirius are dating and they get in a huge fight and remus is the one to push the reader back to sirius???? 

A/N: This was hella fun to write

“No, you’re right Sirius! It’s always my fault! I’m always the bad guy!”, you yelled tears threatening to pierce through your eyes as you slammed the palm of your hand against Sirius’s chest.

“I never said that! This is what I am talking about! You always jump to conclusions without consulting me first!”, He yelled back not daring to break eye-contact. All you saw was blue. Blue like the tears streaming down your cream-colored face,  like the stone necklace that Sirius gave you for your first anniversary that seemed to now burn at your throat, and like the roses Sirius would give you after whispering ‘I love you’. You distinctly remembering the first time you two admitted your feeling towards one another. It was during the fifth year, somehow the two of you went from talking about how you managed to fail your potions class to confessing your acquired adoration for each other. With him asking timidly at the end, ‘can I kiss you?’.

Tightening a grip on Sirius’s jumper, you held him close to you.

“And you, you bastard never take my side! You’re always so kept to yourself! Never once have you came to me with a problem! I trusted you enough to let you in, but you couldn’t do the same! The only thing I ever needed was for you to need me, Sirius! That’s all I ever needed! Because I deserve somebody who gives a shit!”, you screamed even louder on the top of your lungs, causing your voice to crack. Sirius tried to take a step back, but you held onto his jumper even tighter not letting him leave. Straightening up his posture, Sirius glared at you, a hard cold glare. A glare he would give to someone like Bellatrix.

“Don’t you even dare Y/N! I loved you through everything, and you don’t even care! And you know what Y/N! I deeply wish that I never met you!”, Sirius screamed at me even louder with each sentence, his body trembled as his voice croaked with broken cries, before ripping your hand off of his jumper and running away. All you could do was stand there, sobbing loudly to yourself, grasping onto the single chair for support afraid that you might fall to the ground.

“Go after him Y/N”, You heard a raspy, cool voice of Remus lupin. Turning around to face the werewolf that you have became close mates with, you realize that you could barely even see him through your teary eyes.

“You know that it only hurts more when you stop pretending. ”, Remus continued on not bothering to move from the staircase that lead to the boys dorm, “So stop pretending that what Pad-I mean Sirius said hurt more than what you are letting on. Go after him and I predict that when you see him it’s going to hit you. Hit you like a muggle bus just crashed into your body breaking your soul into pieces and your heart in shattering glass fragments.”

“W-What are you talking about Remus”, you choked on your sobs trying to make process on what the lad was saying.

“I’m saying that it’s always been you and Sirius. Always. Ever since first year when you hated each other, no matter what you two will always love each other, so I don’t see why you are forcing him away, and him visa versa. But knowing how stubborn the both of you are, I am not telling-I am demanding that you go after Sirius and tell him. Tell him how you are feeling now. Or else I will drag you by your hair to him”, Remus didn’t say another word before storming back up the stairs.

Numbly you moved forward, towards the portrait that would lead you out of the common-room. Once outside the sound of a broken cry filled your ears. Sirius. He was more then crying, he was cursing to no one but himself. There he sat at the top of the moving staircase cursing and cursing to himself, and crying even louder. That’s when it hit you, it hit you harder than a muggle bus crashing into your body. It hit you more painfully than the curico curse. You collapsed down to the cold stone floor, clenching your chest above your heart. The pain was unbearable. Seeing Sirius the way he was puffy eyed, tear stained cheeks, messy destroyed locks of crow black hair, paler skin than the snow falling outside, and the look of death itself shadowing over his handsome face. Your heart was smashed, beaten, crumbled, torn apart, and shattered to the base of your chest like fine china.

“No-please. Please don’t leave me”, you cried broken and torn like your vocal cords yearned for fresh cool liquid, “Please Sirius, you’re the only good thing I have. I can’t-Don’t leave me”

You didn’t know if he could hear you and you sobbed on the hallway floor, it wasn’t until you felt those cold strong arms around your body. engulfing your body in a cold chill. The cold chill you have grown custom to after so many years of hugging, holding hands, colliding in the middle of the hallways, and sneaking kisses at midnight. Moving your body around so you would be able to hold onto the person who was your first kiss, your first love, your first friend, your first enemy, and the first person who you beat the crap out of when they accidently called you a ditzy little girl.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m sorry.”, Sirius’s wobbly voice spoke almost like the wind in the summer, soft and almost unnoticeable, “I will never leave you. Never. Just promise you won’t leave me”

His grip grew stronger around your body pulling you closer to him. Crying into his shoulder, all you could do was nod.

“Never, I would never leave you. Never. I love you”, You whispered over and over again. I love you.

You love Sirius the same way how the moon loves the sun, dying each day so the sun can live.

Summary:The Great Hall is quiet. Too quiet. You go looking for your boys—Fred and George—to see what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into today. As always, trouble finds you first, as does your dumbass boyfriend and his twin.

Requested by @pearlll09:So uh I’m a bit of a simp for the weasley twins… your prompt list gave me an idea! If you want, pick a twin you’d be comfortable writing (i usually go for george cause he doesn’t die ToT) and do a reader insert with happy 7 - I’m sure that whoever ends up with the line, it will be great :)
Prompt:“Hey! I may be a dumbass, but I’m yourdumbass.”

Key: (H/h) - Hogwarts house, (Y/N) - your name
Warnings:mild cursing, threats, gender neutral reader!!
Word Count: 1,169 (nice)

Author’s Note: u always give me the best characters pearl ty!!! I’m a simp for George Weasley too so this was a lot of fun to write ajsldfkj. I couldn’t find a good excuse to use a poem for the title, so this one has a normal title smh my head.

Read on AO3

*

The Great Hall is mostly quiet, which is highly unusual. Although, the absence of the Weasley twins might explain that absurdity.

You don’t see the matching heads of ginger hair when you enter for breakfast that morning. There are three other gingers at the Gryffindor table, but no two of them are closely paired, so they must be the other Weasleys. You make a beeline for the short-haired one that isn’t speaking loudly and obnoxiously—that’d be Percy—who isn’t sitting far from the long-haired one—Ginny.

“Good morning, you three!” you declare, sitting down right next to Harry, who sits across from Hermione and Ron.

(You shouldn’t really be sitting with them, a fifth year (H/h) that you are, but you’re a common enough staple of the Weasley family that it’s not entirely unexpectedeither.)

“Good morning, (Y/N),” the trio echoes in sync, which makes you grin.

“Gotten up to any trouble yet?” you ask, which is a frighteningly common question, especially concerning the Weasleys.

Hermione sighs. “The day is still young.”

“Oh, poor Hermione,” you say dramatically, reaching over to pat her shoulder in false comfort. “Just admit you like it as much as they do and your life will be much easier, promise.”

“(Y/N)’s speaking from experience,” Ron adds through a mouthful of food.

You nod proudly. “Speaking of my experience—have you seen my boys this morning?”

“No sign of them yet, thank Merlin,” their younger brother says immediately. “Why? Something planned?”

Your shrug is mischievous. “Maybe.”

“Theyalways have something planned,” Hermione counters.

Harry smiles. “I saw them in the common room this morning; heard something about Filch, too, but that’s it. They’ll be in time for Quidditch practise, won’t they?”

“On time? Maybe. But they’ll definitely be there,” you agree with a snicker. “I should go find them.”

Before you can leave, Ron huffs. “At least eat something, (Y/N).”

Harry raises his eyebrows at the very clear Mom tone to his voice, the same tone that has you rolling your eyes. You reach across the table anyway, snatching up a jam-covered piece of toast and standing.

“Better, Mum?” you ask once you’ve swallowed.

He scoffs, flushing. “Shut up.”

“You’d miss the voice of reason,” you retort. “Cheers, kids. See you in a bit!”

“Kids?” you hear Hermione snort after you leave. “We’re only two years below!”

“(Y/N) calls everyone younger a kid, ‘Mione,” Ron reminds her fondly. “Don’t take it personally.”

You dart out of the Great Hall, taking a loose path to Filch’s office. If Fred and George aren’t there, at least Filch might have an idea of where they have been this morning. He and Mrs Norris always have their eyes on you three, but they’ve never caught you long enough to make a dent in your rebellious streak. Merlin, if Molly Weasley can’t stop you, nobody can. And despite her best efforts, she is slowly losing that fight.

Whistling a merry tune, you turn a corner, only to stop and grin at the sound of a familiar gleeful laugh. It’s more of a devilish cackle, actually.

Down the hall, two distinct redheads are sprinting in your direction.

(Fred is the one that cackles. George prefers a good snicker.)

“What in Merlin’s name have you two—?”

“No time to talk, Filch on our tail, run!” George summarizes as they come upon you, grabbing your arm and dragging you along.

Back down the hall, a very pissed off caretaker screams: “YOU FILTHY BRATS! GET BACK HERE! I’LL HANG YOU BY YOUR TOES!”

You laugh, a loud and clear sound that bounces off the walls. It has George grinning wider than before as the two of you split off from Fred, the other twin disappearing as quickly as they’d appeared. Your boyfriend’s hand slips from your sleeve, but you immediately grasp his hand instead.

Dragged around another corner, you realise immediately that your boys must have planned this daring escape, because George quickly ducks into a tiny alcove with an empty wardrobe.

He closes the door behind you, the both of you crammed into the small space.

You press your fingers against his lips to quiet his heavy breathing, which earns you a huff of indignation. Not about to laugh aloud at the pout on his face, you simply smile.

Footsteps storm outside, right past the alcove. They pass, but neither of you move, too cautious to let Filch lure you into a false sense of security. He’s quiet for a long moment, but then he starts walking away, the taps of his boots growing ever further.

The moment he’s out of earshot, George lets out a breath of relief.

You start laughing quietly into his shoulder, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder.

“It’s not even 9, George,” you wheeze, wiping at unshed tears.

“Perfect timing, right? Now he’ll be mad all day,” he says with a pleased smile. “I thought it was brilliant.”

You lean forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re a dumbass!”

“Hey! I may be a dumbass, but I’m yourdumbass.” He buries a hand in your hair, pouting again.

“My dumbass,” you clarify, rolling your eyes. “Harry was worried you’d miss Quidditch.”

“Never,” he declares. “Ridiculous, that. Oliver would have our heads.”

You snicker. “If you’re late again, he’s going to hunt you down. You know that, right? Worse than when you dyed his hair.”

“Let’s remember who saved me last time he got mad,” he teases, booping your nose.

“Because I love you and I always get you out of trouble.”

A sappy smile crosses his features. “Yeah. You’re good at that.”

He leans forward—a task that’s not difficult in the small space—kissing you gently, which has you smiling into it.

The wardrobe doors fly open and you split apart, faces flushed and smiling ridiculously.

“Oi!” says Fred, faking disgust. “No time for making out, lovebirds! We have Quidditch practise to get to!”

“Shut up, Fred,” you and George say in sync, bursting into laughter.

He scoffs, grabbing his brother’s shirt and dragging him out of the wardrobe. Instead of that same rough movement with you, he offers you a hand, which you take. Gracefully stepping out of the wardrobe, you snicker when the twins shove each other.

“Knock it off, you two,” you chide, taking George’s arm in yours. You pull Fred over to you and do the same on your other side, grinning.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Fred finally greets properly.

You snort. “It was until someone decided to drag me away from breakfast.”

“I can make it up to you,” George says instantly, maneuvering your arms so that you’re holding hands instead. “Trip to the kitchens before Quidditch?”

“Soundslovely,” you decide. “And then we should talk about our product line-up, because I have some ideas.”

He grins. “Of course you do. You’re brilliant.”

Fred fakes a gag. George lets go of your hand just long enough to smack the back of his head, making you snicker.

“Boys.”

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop&@mystoragehatesme

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