Headcanons for being the youngest Scamander sibling
Newt/Theseus Scamander x sibling!reader
warnings: fb3 spoilers! mainly takes place during the movie! also death/fighting
a/n: god i have been so excited to write this dhsbsghs. and i love u anon ur so sweet.
prompt: anonymous: “OMG I JUST WATCHED FB3 and it was such a fun ride!! may i request a headcanon for being the youngest scamander who’s still in hogwarts? thank you very much! your works are always lovely ♡”
yes, you were quite younger than your brothers
but that didn’t change the fact that they loved you and you loved them
it was a shame you couldn’t get in on the action with them, whether that be magizoology or ministry happenings (or adventures they found themselves in)
dumbledore swore to keep his eye on you
made sure you didn’t get kicked out like *someone* in your family
“you’re so close to graduating, y/n. please take it seriously”-dumbledore
“fifty-fifty chance i do”-you
you don’t typically see theseus and newt at the same time, but whoever is closest for the holidays will pick you up
leta adored you, you’d talk to her every chance you got
“how’s school going, y/n? get yourself into any trouble lately?”-leta
“why does everyone keep asking me that?” -you
“why do you think?”-theseus
he always squeezes the crap out of you when he sends you back to school
and sends you off with a gift or two
“be good”-theseus
“you really don’t trust me, huh?”-you
“force of habit. i’m gonna miss you”-theseus
“right, right. i’ll miss you, too”-you
newt had told you all about how he got into all sorts of trouble at hogwarts
gave you a ton of pointers over the years. where to hide mostly
and he told you to speak your mind, even if it gets you into trouble
but he warned against taking the fall for others, he learned that the hard way
“i’d like to see you graduate here, do some good.”-newt
“wanna hear what i did last week?”-you
“oh, dear…go ahead”-newt
you always had fun telling newt your stories
the few times you get to see him
you missed your brothers often
when leta died, you were shaken to your core
the funeral was a drag
you practically clung to newt and theseus as you parted once more, you worried deeply for their lives
they felt you’d be safest at hogwarts and encouraged you to enjoy it while you could
“i really wish i could be out there with them” -you
“i know you do, but think about your education for a moment” -dumbledore
“mm, okay, still want to help”-you
“why can’t you be a cheeky hermit like newt was your age?”-dumbledore
“because i’m not newt”-you“or theseus, before you go there”
“you’re funny like them, though” -dumbledore
you really did remind him of newt and theseus, but your dynamic also reminded him of him, aberforth, and ariana
when newt’s friend, jacob, showed up to hogwarts, you were so excited
“hello! you must be jacob!”-you
“hey, yeah, that’s me. you, uh, you a psychic or something?”-jacob
“i’m something, y/n scamander”-you
“oh! oh, you’re the little sibling! look at you in your funny little uniform. wow, another scamander. you uptight or an animal lover?”-jacob
“just me, thank you”-you
giving jacob the tour
“do you fly around this place on those broomsticks, too?”-jacob
“i did once or twice” -you, laughing “got kicked off the quidditch team, though. i had my fair streak of trouble”
“quidditch? what’s that?”-jacob
“it’s the sport that they’re playing”-you
“like…like baseball?” -jacob
“sure, like baseball”-you
when your brothers got back to hogwarts, you were ecstatic (and desperate to get in on it all)
“y/n, don’t you have studies?”-theseus
“shhh, just let me have this”-you
“hi there, y/n, missed you”-newt
“where’s the case?”-you
“oh, i dont have it at the moment” -newt
“what? where is it?”-you
“bunty has it”-newt
“and where is she?”-you
you were highly intrigued by the issue at hand
well, not so much intrigued as you were desperate to know what was going on
any detail left out would make you lose sleep
“where are you staying tonight?”-you
“they’ll be staying at the hog’s head inn” -dumbledore
“may i come, too? just for tonight?”-you
“ah, i don’t know if that’s appropriate—” -dumbledore
“we’ll sign off on it”-newt
*theseus side eyes*
you brought some of your homework along and did it at the bar, just wanting to be near
newt helped you out with it for a bit
“hey, i remember this. you need a hand? or another head?”-newt
“sure, that’d be great”-you
you told him how you’d gone through the boggart lesson recently
“oh! oh…oh, how was that?”-newt
“not too bad, we all had a few laughs”-you
“yours wasn’t too scary?”-newt
“no, not any worse than a desk” -you, making fun of him
newt had noticed writing on the mirror across from him and left you a moment
and lally wanted to get to know the youngest scamander
“why hello there, dear. we haven’t had a moment to ourselves yet. what are you up to?”-lally
“just some homework brought from hogwarts. they excused me from curfew tonight as long as i proved i’d still be productive”-you
“a unique situation you’re in, aren’t you?” -lally
“you could say that” -you, laughing “i’m always being expected to act up thanks to newt, but they always want me to go above and beyond like theseus. i love my brothers, i’d just like to be me”
“oh, i see. well, i see you as you. tell me about you”-lally
you and lally had a long conversation while newt and dumbledore did the same
“you know, y/n carries a copy of fantastic beasts wherever they go. i think they miss you” -dumbledore
“they do? how do you know?”-newt
“i see them read it all the time. they even catch some unsuspecting students to ramble to about it from time to time”-dumbledore
“are you saying they’re starting to…to turn out like me?”-newt
“i’m saying they miss you. don’t take that for granted, newt. not after what i just told you”-dumbledore, glancing at the painting of ariana
when they came back downstairs, you were playing with the newest addition to the magical briefcase
where teddy the niffler was getting jealous and stealing coins from your pocket
you made the most of this time with your brothers and their friends, knowing that danger loomed over them
and there was nothing that you could do
but you could dance and talk and laugh and mingle until the sun came up
you followed them to the room of requirement and gave them hugs goodbye
“what is this place?”-jacob
“the room we require”-newt
“y/n, why didn’t you show me this?”-jacob
*magic users chuckling*
“be safe. please”-you
“you’re worried about us? that’s adorable” -theseus, hugging you as hard as he could
“oh, sorry. i hope you get cursed” -you, sarcastically
“i’ll see you soon, don’t worry. just focus on your classes”-newt
“why can’t i come with you? i want to help!” -you
“because dumbledore doesn’t need any children fighting his battles”-theseus
^(a/n: *spongebob narrator voice* “sixty years later”)
anyways
you were on edge all day, watching the election for supreme mugwump with your classmates
your brothers appeared before the wizarding world and you hid behind your hands as your classmates turned to you
“are you alright, y/n?” -professor mcgonnagal
“that depends on what happens in the next few minutes”-you
fortunately, your brothers came home
and you were invited to jacob and queenie’s wedding in new york!
“really?!”-you
“yes, really, kid! you’re gonna love new york, i’ll even give you a tour! least i can do for you showing me your school”-jacob
you went to new york and absolutely loved it, it was your new favorite place
and these wedding guests, your new favorite people
It’d been some time since Newt had stepped foot in Hogwarts but ever since you started there, he’s had a newfound interest in it. He’s pester you, his grandchild, for all sorts of details. He’d recount his own days there, hoping for similarities, connections, laugh about Dumbledore’s treatment of you and the stories he’s shared. “Tell me, y/n, do you have any friends at school?” Newt asked you.
“Not really, just one that matters.” You shrugged, trying to hide your smile.
“Ah, I completely understand. I was the same way, but there’s this saying, ‘quality over quantity,’ that’s what really matters.” Newt assured with a smile, letting memories of his childhood enshroud his mind.
“Actually, Granddad, this friend, she’s my girlfriend.” You snapped him out of his thoughts and he raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the detail. “Her name’s Ginny. Ginny Weasley.”
“Weasley…” He repeated curiously. “I’ve heard that name before, yes. There’s a Weasley or two at the ministry, your Great Uncle Theseus mentioned them. Good people, I’ve heard.”
“The best.” You beamed at him, but when you looked away your smile got lighter, didn’t quite fade away. You’d been thinking about her and your Granddad noticed right away, a different generation, but that same look. He was delighted you’d found your Leta.
warnings:injury - but it’s not descriptive, confident!reader (just in case we have some shy bean readers lmao)
a/n:You’re a Gryffindor for the sake of this fic, but there’s a choice for which house you were against in the match, hope that’s okay!! :)
“Hey, Harry.” You stand behind your teammate, waiting for a reply.
Harry turns slightly to look up at you. He swallows a mouthful of pudding before responding. “Uh- hello… Y/N.”
You smile, then point to his sling. “You alright?”
Harry looks like a malfunctioning robot as he looks down at his arm, up at you, then at his arm again. “I’m… uh, fine. Are you?”
You glance down at your bandaged knee. Harry looks too, but when your eyes land on him, he pretends to look at his plate instead.
“I’m great. I’m used to taking beatings out there. I always seem to be a target for the *opposite house choice*’s. Anyway, you got it worse, Potter.”
“Eh…” Harry shrugs. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”
You nod. “Hopefully. Good game, though, right?”
“Yeah.. you- you were great.”
“But was I the one who caught the snitch?” You grin and then reach into your pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Here. You’ve been avoiding me lately, Harry. So, we’re going to meet up later, yeah?”
Harry stutters. “Sorry- yeah, I- um… okay.”
“Okay?”
Harry nods. You laugh and then bend down to plant a kiss on his unharmed cheek. “See you later.” You have a slight limp as you walk away, smirking.
-
-
Meet me by the owlery
5 pm
Y/N xo
Taglist: (lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my fics, I’ll be making a new taglist form soon!!) @jiaraendgame
a/n: i got yelled at for this one on wattpad, lmao. sorry!
Harry hits the ground with your body in his arms. His grip on you doesn’t loosen even a little. The cheers of your fellow students slowly die down.
Suddenly, a girl screams, deafeningly loud. Celebrations turn to whispered voices of worry, confusion, and shock.
“What’s going on?”
“A student has died.”
“What happened?”
“Is that- is that Y/N?”
Dumbledore rushes over to Harry’s side. He attempts to pull him away from your still-warm skinned body.
“No! No!” Harry screams, refusing to let go.
Dumbledore stops trying and, instead, kneels by Harry’s side.
“S/he asked me to bring her/his body back! I couldn’t leave her/him. Not there. S-S/he died for me. If it wasn’t for Y/N, I-”
Dumbledore strokes a hand over Harry’s hair, attempting to soothe his pain. “It’s alright, Harry. I understand. S/he’s home. You both are.”
“Y/N..” Harry continues to cry as friends and teachers gather around the harrowing scene.
Dumbledore gently closes your eyes, one hand still resting on your shoulder afterward. And several minutes later, Harry is finally coaxed away from your lifeless form. But not before he kisses your cheek, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Th-thank you. I’ll never forget.”
-
Taglist: (lmk if you wanna be tagged in future harry potter ficlets) @jiaraendgame
“Excuse me?” You mutter nervously. “C- can I join you? Everywhere else is full up.”
The ginger boy stuffs a handful of Bertie Botts’ every flavour beans into his mouth, nodding. The other boy, who is wearing circular glasses, gestures to the empty seat opposite them.
“Of course.” He introduces himself. “I’m Harry.” He then points to his friend. “And this is Ron.”
Ron smiles at you. “Alright, there.”
“Y/N.” You answer through a whisper.
“What was that?”
“Oh, umm…” You clear your throat. “Y/N. Sorry. I guess I’m q- quite nervous.”
“That’s alright, Y/N.” Harry picks up a chocolate frog from the pile of sweet treats lying beside the two boys. “Here. Would you like one?”
“Sure.” Harry throws it over, and you catch it with perfect ease. “Thank you.”
You barely catch what Ron says next, through a mouthful of more beans. “Jus.. stick w.. us, you’ll be.. -good.”
You sit down opposite them, placing your *pet choice* next to you in their cage.
Harry leans forward, looking inside and smiling. “Who’s this?”
“This is *pet’s name*. S/he’s quite shy. Like me, I suppose.”
“I’m a little nervous as well. I don’t know anything about being a wizard.”
Ron wipes some stray chocolate from his face and speaks up. “Lucky for me, I have brothers who have told me all about Hogwarts.”
You smile back at Ron and then look back to Harry. “That is lucky. I’m in the same boat as Harry. I only found out I was a witch a few weeks ago.”
Harry offers you another frog, seeing that you’ve finished the last. You take it with a grin. He looks between you and Ron. “Well, we can stick with each other and be clueless together.”
You giggle, thinking about how glad you are now that the rest of the seats on the train were full. “Sounds good to me.”
-
Taglist: (lmk if you wanna be tagged in future hp fics) @jiaraendgame
a/n:[P] = your Patronus. Mine’s a Hummingbird, what’s yours? I’m curious
‘Make it a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember.
Allow it to fill you up.
Think of the happiest thing you can.’
-
Harry’s instructions repeat over and over in your mind as you search for the perfect memory to use. You turn to glance around the room. Most of your friends have already cast their Patronus. They’re flying, running, galloping, or bouncing around the air as the witches and wizards watch them in awe.
You close your eyes tight, wand at the ready. Your heart flutters when you choose a particular memory of yourself and Harry together. You know it’s the one to use when you open your eyes and catch the reflection of yourself smiling in the mirrored wall.
You clear your throat before speaking clearly, “Expecto Patronum!”
On your very first try, a silvery stream of light appears from your wand. Out of it comes [P]. You watch it runs around you for a few seconds, making you giggle.
It then runs/flies around the room, circling Ginny and Hermione. Then it swerves before Ron, Fred, and George. The [P] finally runs/flies past Luna before swooshing over Harry’s head as he ducks.
He steps back, admiring it. His face widens into a grin, and he looks over at you. “Fantastic, Y/N!” He exclaims. “Truly, amazing!”
You nod happily. “Thank you!”
Your focus diminishes when Harry steps closer to you. The [P] slowly disappears, all or your concentration now on him instead.
“Must have been a good memory.” Harry lays a hand on your arm. “What were you thinking of?” You pause for a moment, wondering if you should tell him. His hand leaves your arm, and you shiver, like you are cold without his touch. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“You.” You blurt out before switching to a whisper. “Us.. our, uh.. kiss the other day.”
You feel your cheeks flush a little, and Harry full-on grins at you. “Really?”
You nod. “Truly.. one of the best memories I have.”
In a second of confidence, you wink at him. He laughs and then steps back into the middle of the room. He goes back into 'professor mode’ - still smiling. “Okay, Y/N. Concentrate. Remember, your Patronus can only protect you for as long as you stay focused.”
You picture the night of your first kiss once more, and Harry watches you in wonder when [P] appears almost instantly, then runs/flies around the room for a second time, looping around the two of you in figure eights for a few moments.
-
Taglist: (lmk if you wanna be tagged in future hp mini fics!) @jiaraendgame
Anon asked: Hey. I would love a Hermione granger x fem! reader based on prompt 13 “if you don’t hug me now I might fall apart” with being on the run in deathly hallows. Really miss good Hermione x reader imagines and fics. Thanks, love your work.
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!reader
Word Count: 885
Warning: None,
A/N: I love this request! thank you for reading my work! In this fic, Dean Thomas and Y/N left together to avoid the death eaters and voldemort
You pulled your sleeping bag tighter around yourself. Sunlight had started to brighten the tent around you, but that did nothing for the chill in your bones. Next to you, Dean Thomas was still asleep, snoring quietly.
“Oi,” you whispered, nudging him. “We have to get moving.”
He stirred slowly, giving you time to get up and check the perimeter. Stretching slowly, you sat up and gathered your bearings.
Sleeping on the forest floor was never pleasant. Your back was stiff and your neck was sore. It took an hour to fall into a restless sleep that left you in a zombie-like state in the morning. It made your temper short, and conversation between you and Dean even shorter.
The pair of you were trying to make the best of a bad situation; surviving in the muggle world using knowledge from life before Hogwarts.
However, easier said than done. There was no way for you to convert galleons to pounds, and moving around from place to place made normalcy harder to achieve.
Peering out of the tent, you took in the green trees and the way the sun poked through the canopy of branches and leaves. The nearby stream bubbled and gushed, while birds tweeted overhead.
Despite everything, it was so beautiful out there.
You walked around the area, not finding any signs of disturbance in the night. In front of your tent was an extinguished fire from last night. The forest seemed completely empty.
“Are we good to go?” Dean asked later, kicking apart the camp fire’s remains as you flicked your wand. In an instant, the tent collapsed into a neat handkerchief.
“I think so,” you slipped it into your pocket. He took your hand before counting down from three. Atthree, the two of you apparated to a different area of the forest. When you were able to breathe again, you spoke.
“I’ve been thinking about your suggestion. I think it’s a good idea.”
Dean looked over at you, clearly surprised. You were referring to the point he had brought up a few days prior, about leaving Britain. Over a meager dinner of weak soup and soda biscuits, Dean suggested apparating to America.
“Maybe we can ask the American Ministry for help,” He was hunched over, eyes trained on his bowl. Exhaustion was getting to him. “Or we could stay there until this all blows over.”
“How long would that be?” You had asked.
A simple shrug. “I don’t know. It could be months. Could be years. But we would be safe and we could live normal lives.”
“So… we just leave? Simple as that?”
“Simple as that.”
~~
That option had been running non-stop through your head. You gazed at the forest before speaking again.
“I think we should go. To America.”
Dean bit his lip. “Are you sure?”
“Completely sure.”
“Alright,” he nodded. “We’ll leave in the afternoon.”
That ended the conversation. After further trekking into the forest, Dean turned to you. “Here looks good.”
You stopped and nodded, extending your hand. This was it, you were going to escape this war for good.
“Stop right there.” A voice startled you.
You turned, wand drawn, eyes landing on two figures. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. “H-Hermione? Is that you?”
She stepped forward, eyes wide. With her bushy hair and light freckles, you knew it was her. “Y/N, I can’t believe-”
“Wait,” Harry cut her off, arm raised to stop her. He looked worn ragged with dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin. “We can’t be sure it’s them.”
Dean tensed next to you. “That would be quite the ruse, Harry.” Despite this, he did not lower his wand.
“We’re not Death Eaters.” You shifted. “It’s us, Harry.”
“Prove it.”
You glanced at Dean, who seemed more frustrated than weary. “Alright. Ask us a question.”
Harry paused for a second. “You painted a banner for me in first year for quidditch; what did it say?”
“It said ‘Potter for President’, didn’t it?” Dean replied with the ghost of a smile. “With a lion next to that?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, but Harry still lowered his wand, Hermione in tandem.
You raced over to Hermione, immediately inspecting her. “Are you okay? Where have you been?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she babbled, running a hand through your hair. From next to you, Harry went to speak with Dean, giving a you a second of privacy. “Just please hug me. If you don’t hug me now I might fall apart.“
You choked out a small cry and wrapped your arms around her, relishing the way her hands automatically held onto you.
“I’m supposed to go to America,” you sniffed. “To get away from all of this.”
Hermione looked at you, nose red. “You’re leaving? When?”
“Well, now.” you laughed wetly. “If you want, I’ll stay.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I can’t ask that of you. I can’t ask you to risk your life.”
You shook your head. “You wouldn’t be asking. I’m offering my wand.”
She gave you a serious look. “Are you sure, y/n?”
“Yes,” you glanced at Dean, who nodded back. “We’re sure.”
Hermione smiled, hugging you once more, and you felt more hopeful than you had in weeks.
Anon asked: Hi! I read the Hermione imagine and didn’t know it was something I needed in my life! Could I ask for fluff 4 and random 8 with her as well?
Prompts:
4. “OH you’re jealous!”
8. “Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!”
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!reader
Word Count: 309
Warning: none!
A/N: Imma be real with y’all, I’m 18 turning 19, and it feels weird to write anything for Hermione if she’s younger than me, so if anyone requests anything for Hermione I’ll age her up.
“Oh! You’re jealous!” Hermione laughed, cradling Crookshanks. “You’re jealous of a cat, unbelievable, Y/N.”
You bristled, arms crossed. Before she had said anything, you were setting the dining table.“That is not true whatsoever.”
Hermione stood in the living room of her house. She had been playing with her old, smooshed-faced cat, Crookshanks, while you watched.
She had noticed the intent way you were watching the spectacle, brows furrowed, eyes squinted. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m stressed,” you admitted, pinching the bridge of your nose. “About dinner with your parents.”
“Come now,” Hermione titled her her head. “You have nothing to be worried about; they’re not going to give you any trouble.”
“I know, it’s just nerves.”
“It’s going to be fine, love.”
You nodded, still clearly troubled.
“Hey, Y/N. “Hermione walked over to you and took your hands in her’s. “Don’t scare yourself. My parents are really looking forward to meeting you, they already think you’re brilliant.”
“Yeah, okay,” you said, taking in a deep breath.
Hermione pressed a light kiss to your cheek, eyelashes brushing against your cheekbone. “Better?”
“Definitely.” The doorbell rang and your eyes widened.
Hermione clapped her hands together. “They’re here!”
“They’re thirty minutes early! The lasagna isn’t ready! I didn’t finish setting the table! I… I…”
“Hey! leave it to me, okay? I’ve got this under control.”
“Well, what do you want me to do?”
“Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!”
You looked down, remembering that you were still wearing a sports bra and sweatpants.
“Right. I’ll go change.” You raced to the stairs, on the second flight when Hermione called out your name.
She stood at the base of the stairs, grinning up at you. “Remember to stay calm, its just us, love.”
when requesting, please try to keep the amount of prompts requested under or equal to five. thank you and happy requesting! + anyone and everyone is free to use these prompts for their own writing <3 + all pronouns are set as ‘they’ but are subject to change per requests !
Summary: So maybe you and Draco figured out that you don’t have to hate each other… but that about the rest of the school?
A/N: Who is ReADy foR ThiS!? Because I promise you all, you’re not. It’s been one of my favorite parts so far but let me know what you think! I love you guys and your feedback so don’t be afraid to comment or reblog! (Also this is over 3k words because I have no self control anymore)
The weekend passed, and due to final exams, I was holed up in my room most of the time. That’s what was nice about rooming with Hermione, I could cook my own food—the Muggle way—and she wouldn’t tell on me. Ramen was a lifesaver as we studied.
I hadn’t heard form Draco at all. Part of me wondered if he figured it out. The letter he wrote to me was getting worn form the amount of times that I unfolded and refolded it each time I reread his words.
The boys did coax us both down to dinner Sunday night, however. They weren’t quite convinced that I was fine and were still at my defense despite my change in mood and constant protests. In fact, it seemed like every Gryffindor in our year and then some were ready at my defense.
Summary: Defeated and betrayed you don’t know what to do. And you don’t do anything… Draco does.
A/N: Hello all of my new lovelies! I’m so excited to see you all and to have so many of you despite me just starting this new blog for my new obsession. It means everything to me, your notes and comments and reblogs! I love you guys, enjoy this slightly angst, slightly fluffy part. (Also Hermione is such a bean)
I fled Down to Hagrid’s and seeing the tears on my face and the pain in my eyes, Hermione, Ron and Harry all ushered me into Hagrid’s hut.
“What happened?” They all demanded.
“It was Malfoy,” Harry spat. “He’s not here. He did this,” He hissed, pacing.
I yearned to shake my head and prove him wrong. To say that Malfoy didn’t do this, but I couldn’t. I hid my face in my hands and sank into one of the oversized chairs around me, panic running through my system.
warning/s;angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy and post partum depression
word count;4.4k
summary;fred leaves you on the day you were supposed to tell him that you were pregnant with his child. three years later you see him again, and secrets are unearthed.
a/n;feedback is very, very welcome! i just love reading them aaa this was such a weird thing to write bc i wanted it angst but it’s not angsty enough so watch out for more angst deuces
“i don’t understand, freddie. why are you—”
“[y/n]! that’s enough!” your boyfriend furrowed his brows, blowing out an exasperated breath that had you feeling offended. he ran a hand through his already unkempt hair before meeting your eyes. “don’t you getit? i’m done. we’re done. we’re through.”
there was no emotion behind his words. no meaning. nothing that told you of the two years you’ve spent together. and to be perfectly honest, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, you expected this. deep down you knew he’d fallen out of love somewhere along the way.
warning/s;angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy and post partum depression
word count;4.4k
summary;fred leaves you on the day you were supposed to tell him that you were pregnant with his child. three years later you see him again, and secrets are unearthed.
a/n;feedback is very, very welcome! i just love reading them aaa this was such a weird thing to write bc i wanted it angst but it’s not angsty enough so watch out for more angst deuces
“i don’t understand, freddie. why are you—”
“[y/n]! that’s enough!” your boyfriend furrowed his brows, blowing out an exasperated breath that had you feeling offended. he ran a hand through his already unkempt hair before meeting your eyes. “don’t you getit? i’m done. we’re done. we’re through.”
there was no emotion behind his words. no meaning. nothing that told you of the two years you’ve spent together. and to be perfectly honest, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, you expected this. deep down you knew he’d fallen out of love somewhere along the way.
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.
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.
Draco dating someone else but the two fo you being so physically affectionate that people think you two are dating.
but unbeknownst by you two, you both craved each other’s touch. Yes, Draco was dating someone else but that didn’t mean he didn’t crave to be with you. he longed to be with you but feared the scorn and judgement we would receive from his parents if he dated you. so he settled for having you as a friend he could hold and love from afar.
Imagine being there when James wakes up in the hospital wing…
You brush your thumb over the back of James’ hand, his skin warm to the touch. He was still passed out cold, his left eye black and swollen, his bottom lip split. Under the blanket covering him his cracked ribs were wrapped tight.
When Gryffindor played Slytherin it was always intense, both houses out to prove which of them was the best each and every game. You loved watching James play, seeing the joy on his face when he was up in the air…
But you hated seeing him get hurt and this time he got hurt more than usual. It all happens within a matter of minutes, your whole body reacting as James falls off his broom after being deliberately knocked into. When he hits the ground the other Gryffindor’s in the stand start yelling and cursing out the Slytherin team. There’s a hard lump in the back of your throat as you start pushing yourself out of the stands and towards the field. James hadn’t gotten back up yet and it left a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Madam Pomfrey fixed him up, telling you he just needed some rest as she moved over to the next bed. You sit next to your boyfriend, watching the way his lashes moved on the tops of his cheeks, his glasses sitting on the table beside his head. You look up as Sirius walks in, still in his quidditch robes and covered in mud. He looks at you, then at James, wincing at his friends injuries.
“Hasn’t woken up yet?”
“Madam Pomfrey said it wouldn’t be long, he’s just resting.”
Sirius nods his head, rubbing his knuckles. You notice the slight bruising, knowing that Sirius wouldn’t have let what happened go easily. Normally you don’t agree with fighting of any kind, but after what happened you can’t help but think that that Slytherin got everything they deserved.
“What happened with the rest of the game?” You ask.
“Called off,” Sirius rolls his eyes. “The slimy git called foul after I socked him, most of both teams are in detention for the next week.”
“Sirius -”
“Don’t worry Pads, we’ll show em next time.”
James’ voice pulls both of your attention, his eyes blinking slowly in the bright light. You pass him his glasses, taking his hand again as he winces in pain. You give him a soft smile as he squeezes your hand, using your free one to brush his unruly hair back away from his face.
“I was worried about you,” You say quietly.
“That was my plan all along,” James jokes, cringing as he coughs.
“Right… you planned for Rosier to knock you from your broom.”
“How else was I going to get you to give me the attention I need.”
You shake your head, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, careful not to bump him too much. James smiles as you pull back.
Imagine Fred and your daughter making you breakfast…
You’re rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you pad quietly down the stairs, Fred’s bright, oversized button up covering your body. You’d woken up alone this morning, your husbands side of the bed cold and empty and no four year old pressing her feet into the small of your back.
You can hear giggling from the kitchen, a smile spreading over your face as you peak around the corner, the strong, sweet smell of pancakes filling your nose. Your daughter Sophia is sitting on the counter, still in her pyjamas, swinging her legs back and forth as Fred flips a pancake on the stove. She laughs at something he says, her cheeks dotted with flour.
“What’s all this then?” You ask, stepping around the corner. Sophia gasps when she sees you, shuffling to the edge of the counter excitedly. Fred drops her to the floor and she runs over to you, hugging you around the legs. You run your fingers through the wild mess of hair on top of her head. “We made pancakes mummy!” “I can see that,” You chuckle. “What’s the special occasion?”
Fred flips the last pancake onto the plate and turns off the stove, even more flour covering his cheeks then on Sophia. He walks towards you, picking Sophia up, swinging her onto his hip before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. Sophia giggles, burying her face into Fred’s neck. “Just because we love you darling,” Fred says.
It was all coming to the surface, everything before and after the breakup, all of the feelings the two of you had buried, squashed down and tried to pretend didn’t still exist. The flood gates were open and good or bad the two of you needed closure.
“Don’t walk away from me!” You snap with a roll of your eyes. “You have something to say Sirius so just say it for fucks sake.” Sirius’ shoulders tense as you follow him into the kitchen, his back towards you. He picks up a glass from the bench, turning it over a couple of times in his hands before flinging it into the sink with so much force you jump, the glass shattering on impact. He braces himself on the bench, hunched over the sink, his tone short, clipped and dangerously low. You’d almost rather him yell at you.
“Say? There’s nothing to say. You fucked off y/n, you left. You packed your shit and didn’t look back,” He turns to look at you, a humourless laugh ringing in your ears, a flash of lightning illuminating the few tears on his cheeks. “You never gave me a chance to say anything…”
You shrunk back, wrapping your arms around yourself as you looked at the floor. You knew heartbreak, but this felt different. This was raw, excruciating… like someone had attached you both to a live wire and turned the voltage up to high. The two of you stood there, opposite sides of the room, breathing heavily. You felt some of your anger soften, replaced with the desire to walk over there and wipe the tears off his cheeks. You thought you were doing the right thing by leaving, you and Sirius were destroying each other day by day, bit by bit. There were things you couldn’t work through, issues that ran too deep.
Neither of you had spoken in over a week when you left. You had selfishly tricked yourself into thinking that leaving was going to be the best for both of you. A clean slate. Instead you protected yourself from getting hurt while doing the exact opposite to him. You step towards him, closing the distance while reaching out with your hand. Sirius shrinks back from your touch but doesn’t stop you from cupping his cheek, your thumb gently tracing the line of his jaw.
The scruff on his face scratches enticingly at your skin and it’s a sensation you didn’t realise you missed until now. Sirius breathes deeply and closes his eyes, lips parted, hands twitching by his side. He takes a long, slow breath, then another and another and you can see some of the tension slip away from his body.
“I’m sorry,” You whisper the words but they feel louder as they cut through the quiet.
When Sirius doesn’t say anything you go to draw your hand away, surprised when he reaches out and holds your wrist. He leans further into your touch as the tears slip silently down his cheeks, catching in the palm of your hand. Everything around you seems to pause, the walls around him coming down, the bitterness you’d held onto easing. It’s like you’re both standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into the void, waiting for the other person to say ‘jump’first.
A couple of minutes pass, a few more breaths mixed together in the air and you jump. Repercussions be damned.
Pushing up on your toes you kiss him, pressing yourself against his chest. His mouth is as soft as you remember, his lips moulding against yours with little adjusting, like there hadn’t been any time at all between your last kiss and this one. Sirius doesn’t move right away, stuck frozen in shock. It takes you mumbling another sorry into his mouth to get a reaction. When he kisses you back it’s hard, full of want and regret. His hands find home on your hips, fingertips digging into the soft, supple flesh. You rake your fingers into his hair, your nails dragging over his scalp, drawing a deep groan from the back of his throat. He pushes you back until your back hits the wall behind you, his knee pressing between your legs to hold them apart. You nip playfully at his bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth before soothing away the sting with your tongue, tasting the salt from his tears. The kiss deepens as the two of you become entangled fully, hands roaming over bodies, rediscovering lost intimacy.
When you pull away Sirius moves his lips to the juncture of your neck, peppering kisses over your skin as your chest heaves. Wrapping your arms around his neck the two of you stumble and giggle until you’re back in the living room. You can see him better in here, his face not shrouded in shadow. He looks at you, candle light dancing in his bright grey eyes, your heart thumping wildly inside your chest. A light blush covers your cheeks as you glance up at his swollen lips, heat spreading through every inch of your body as you draw his lips back to yours, parting your lips so his tongue can slip inside your mouth.
He drops to the couch, keeping you in his arms, your knees digging into the cushions either side of his hips. You edge your fingers under the hem of his t-shirt, his stomach flexing as you flatten the palm of your hand and slide it over his skin. The kiss breaks as he reefs the shirt over his head, eyes dark and needy. You sit back on his lap and bite the corner of your lip, feeling that familiar stirring of arousal settle in the pit of your belly.
Sirius sits forward, his nose almost bumping yours as he toys with the edge of your shirt, your nipples hard through the fabric. You open your mouth, swallowing a moan as he pulls it up and over your head, exposing your heated skin to the cool air. You resist the urge to cover yourself back up as goosebumps erupt over your arms and back, Sirius’ eyes roaming over you hungrily. He brushes his fingers up your sides and across your ribs, stopping just below each breath. He watches your reaction as he circles a nipple with the tip of his finger, dragging it agonizingly slow over the hard little nub. You squeeze your legs around him in anticipation, feeling him harden beneath you. Dropping your hand down you run it over the front of his sweats, teasing him with feather light touches. You quiver as he flicks out his tongue, wetting his lips.
You want to draw it out, savour the breathy moans and light touches, but you need him, all of him. Now.Sirius pinches a nipple between two fingers as he drags a thumb over your lips with his other hand. You gasp and arch forward, subconsciously rolling your hips to create the friction you’re craving.
“Want you,” You simper. “Need you…Siri.”
The nickname tumbles from your lips and seems to spur him on, his lips re-attaching to your neck as he sucks a dark mark into the flesh. He hooks an arm around your waist, lifting you up enough that he can shimmy his pants down, his cock slapping thick, heavy and hard against his stomach, glistening with precum at the tip. There’s another lump in your throat as you listen to the obscene noises Sirius makes, pumping himself gently, and it makes you want to slip off his lap and suck him greedily into your mouth.
You don’t. Instead you wrap your hand around his base, taking over his movements as you enjoy the weight of him in your hand. Sirius’ head rolls back on the couch, his hands still holding you as you slide over him, smearing the precum with the pad of your thumb. “Nuhugh, stop, stop…” You slow your actions, smiling at the obvious effect it has on him. “I want - I -”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, trailing off as you readjust yourself, pulling your panties to the side - incredibly thankful you hadn’t bothered to put pants back on when you got dressed. Sirius lines himself up, keeping still as you sink down onto his length until he is fully rooted inside of you, stretching you out comfortably. He grunts deeply, dropping his head to your shoulder as you dig your nails into his upper arms, your whole body humming in pleasure. Slowly you begin to rock your hips, tangling your fingers into his hair and tugging on the curls. Neither of you are in any rush, happy to keep it slow, pouring everything you couldn’t put into words into your touches.
Sirius snaps his hips up as you move, thrusting deeper each time, his cock sliding over just the right spot each time. You feel full and content, something you hadn’t for months and it makes you realise how much you missed him, how hard it was to be away from him. His name tumbles from your lips over and over as you feel that coil deep in your belly tighten, your eyes finding his again as your legs tremble. There’s a thin sheen of sweat around his hairline, his cheeks flushed. He snakes a hand down between your bodies, his finger finding your clit, your body convulsing with pleasure as he rubs a tight circle over the bundle of nerves. You cry out, leaning forward until your forehead is pressed against Sirius’, his lips finding yours again as he picks up his pace.
It builds and it builds and it builds and -
“Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” You drag out the word in a whimper, tumbling into euphoria, your orgasm bursting white behind your eyes. Everything else fades away except for the feeling of Sirius, the sound of his moans as he gets closer to his own end. His movements slow down considerably, his hips barely moving when he grunts out something you still aren’t coherent enough to hear, his teeth scraping over your shoulder. He empties himself inside of you and the sensation brings his name back to your lips, his arms tightening around you, keeping you pressed against his chest.
You’re too blissed out for the next few moments that you miss when Sirius pulls back out of you, turning around to lay you on the couch as he stands up, tucking himself back into his pants. He gives you a soft, genuine smile and you return it, watching him walk back up the hallway. You miss his warmth immediately, shivering as you curl in on yourself. He comes back with a warm washcloth, cleaning up the mess left on your thighs. When he’s done you reach for him, tugging him back down, snuggling into him as he runs a hand up and down your spine. When he sighs you feel your stomach sink, a feeling of dread overtaking everything else. You hold your breath as you peak at him from the corner of your eyes, waiting for what you know is coming. “So I guess we should talk about what just happened.” “…Yeah,” You mumble.
You feel sick and suddenly very self conscious. You’re still lying there against him, mostly naked and now you wished you’d paid attention to where he threw your top earlier. It’s the pin you didn’t want to drop, the reality that the two of you are still very much broken up, whatever just happened doesn’t change that. Sirius has been quiet long enough now that your body feels rigid and tense while you wait for him to say that you need to go, that this was a one time thing to help you both move on, to get closure.
You don’t even know how to articulate that that’s not what you want anymore, hell it wasn’t even what you wanted to begin with, but staying here and fighting with him seemed like the worse option at the time.
You try and pull away, ready to shut down and protect yourself but Sirius senses the shift in your mood straight away, holding you against him tighter. He looks down at you, hooking his thumb under your chin when you refuse to meet his eyes, frowning at the expression on your face.
“I don’t regret it,” He says seriously. “I don’t, it’s just…” He cuts himself off with a sigh. “It was so hard when you walked out y/n, I didn’t know what to do with myself… I can’t go through that again and I don’t think you can either.” “I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” You reply, almost too afraid to know the answer. “I’m saying we gotta be in or out, all the way, no going back and changing our minds.”
This time it’s you that’s quiet, the hurt and bitterness bubbling back into your system as you mull over his words. It’s not like his wrong… you know that, but the ultimatum leaves you feeling conflicted. “We broke up for a reason Siri… those issues, they’re all still there. Nothings changed; what makes you think we can work through it this time?” “Maybe we can’t,” He replies. “Maybe we can… all I know is that I love you.” “…I love you too. I’m just not sure it’s enough anymore.”
Sirius tugs you back onto his lap, his face buried into your hair as you wrap your arms around him, wishing that you didn’t have to let go. You lay there, locked together as the storm outside eases, the thunder disappearing into the distance with the lightning. All that’s left is the rain, like the sky outside is openly weeping for the both of you.
Summary: Good or bad, sometimes all you need is closure.
A/N: Again, it’s been ages since I’ve posted anything but I had this one sitting in my drafts so I thought I’d go back through, fix it up a little and post it. Originally it was 5k + so I’ve broken it in half. I’ll post the other half once I’ve finished going through it. I really hope you like this one ! x
It blankets the city in a thick sheet of rain, thunder rumbling in the distance as the lightning flickers through the dark clouds. It was wild and chaotic, the worst storm that London had had in months; the big, fat drops of water enough to send everyone scurrying under cover. The drizzly evening matched your mood perfectly as you sat in your car, goose bumps prickling along your skin from your damp clothes, the windshield fogging up even more with each frigid breath.
You close your eyes and sigh, clenching and unclenching your fists around the steering wheel as you war with yourself. You’d made the decision with a clear head this morning, convincing yourself it was what you wanted to do, but now you weren’t so sure, a rolling train of insecurities flooding through your mind. Opening your eyes you glance over at the box sitting on your passenger seat, a thousand memories you didn’t want to think about mixed in with the knick knacks. That damn box had been mocking you for the last five days and you’d finally had enough. After all, you were the one that had the ridiculous notion in your head that doing this was going to bring you some kind of closure; that seeing him again, when neither of you were angry and out for blood might take away some of the hurt.
Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look through the window, to the townhouse your parked in front of, the large front windows lit up from inside. You loved those windows, the way the sun would pour in first thing in the morning, warming your favourite spot on the couch. It didn’t seem fair, that the house you used to call home still had so much life to it while you were barely making it through each day, drifting further and further from the person you used to be. Your car keys jingle in your hand and once again you’re fighting yourself over what to do. You don’t even know if he’s home, you could just drop the box off at the door and leave, make a clean getaway and go back to pretending your moving on with your life but…
No. Despite everything you need to see him.
Dragging the box up onto your lap you give yourself no time to overthink before heading out into the rain, shivering as cold water runs down your back. You hurry up the driveway but by the time you make it to the front step your still saturated, the reasonably neat bun you’d worn your hair in now a soggy, limp mess at the back of your head. The flood light comes on above you and you freeze, eyes wide as the lock on the door clicks. You start wondering how quickly you can run back to your car before he realises who it is but before you can make any kind of choice the door swings open.
Your throat constricts, your heart beating so fast inside your chest you’re worried it might just give out. Sirius stands there in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow from the house, wearing a thin t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. His curls are deliciously messy, haphazardly pulled back in a loose bun and there’s more scruff on his face then you were used to seeing. You force yourself to swallow around the hard lump in the back of your throat.
His brow dips as he looks at you dripping on his welcome mat, clearly as surprised to see you as you were over being caught. You shuffle awkwardly on the spot, feeling your cheeks get warm. “Hi…” You thrust the box towards him with the lame greeting. “I found some of your stuff mixed in with mine and I just thought I’d…drop them off.” “In the middle of a thunderstorm?”
His voice is like a hard slap to the face, at the same time making you miss him more while also dredging up all the heartbreak you’d tried squashing down. Your relationship had crumbled to pieces in front of your eyes eight weeks ago and by the abysmal end you weren’t on speaking terms. You’d packed up your things and walked out without so much as a backwards glance.
“Yeah… I was - I was on my way… home.” You choke out the last word. You didn’t think of the apartment you moved into home and you don’t think you ever will. This was your home, the place you’d shared with Sirius for the last five years, the place you missed with your whole heart.
Sirius blows out a long sigh and shoves his hand through his hair, tangling it up even more. He chews the corner of his lip, eyes darting between the box in your hands and your dishevelled appearance. An awkward, miserable silence settles between the two of you as you lightly bounce on the balls of your feet. “I guess it’s kind of cold out here,” His tone isn’t angry but it’s not all that welcoming either. “You can come in while the rain eases.”
Yes.Yes… that’s all you want. To go inside and forget all about the last two months, and the three before that were you and Sirius were constantly at each other’s throats. You want it to all go back to how it was before, when you knew that he was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. When your friends didn’t have to feel guilty over spending time with one of you and not the other. You just wanted it to go back to when Sirius loved you more than anything else… You knew it wouldn’t though. There was no going back.
You shake your head as you take a step back, willing the few tears in the corner of your eyes to stay there. You place the box down, suddenly remembering why you were there in the first place. “I - I gotta go.”
No more than five feet down the driveway you feel Sirius’ hand grab your arm, stopping you from leaving. His grip isn’t tight, you could pull away if you wanted to, but his touch feels like a live wire on your skin and you can’t move. Another crack of thunder - this one closer - sounds above your head, the rain cascading down over your body as you look up at your ex, his shirt now glued to his body, accentuating the planes of muscle under the fabric. “You can’t drive in this weather,” He reasons. “Come inside.”
Against your better judgement you let him lead you into the house, immediately missing the warmth of his touch as he lets you go to close and lock the door. You wrap your arms around yourself, only now realising how much you’re actually shivering. Sirius seems to notice as well because he frowns, his hand twitching by his side as though he’s trying to decide if he should reach out to you again. He looks conflicted, like he’s tossing up over whether he should care or not that you’re cold.
“I can get you some dry clothes,” He says, motioning towards the hallway. “Why don’t you have a shower and warm yourself up, I think there’s still some of your stuff in the cupboard. I … I didn’t go through it.” “It’s fine,” You force out, your voice no higher than a whisper. “I don’t want to impose and I really should be going anyway.” “I told you, you can’t drive in weather like this. A shower won’t hurt right? You’ll feel better.” It might hurt, you think. But truthfully a shower did sound pretty good right about now.
Once you agree you follow Sirius down the hall, stopping a couple of doors before he does. You flip on the light in the bathroom, breathing in deeply as you smell his body wash lingering on the air. Everything looks exactly the same - minus your makeup littering the vanity and it makes you kind of sad. Sirius taps his knuckles on the door jam, making you jump as you turn to face him. He holds out some clothes, looking at everything except you as you take them gratefully. There’s a bitter sting in your chest as you notice they’re his clothes. You suppose there’s nothing of yours still here but it still makes your throat feel dry as you hold them against your chest. “Thanks,” You mumble. “Take all the time you want, don’t feel like you have to rush or anything.”
He walks away and you shut the door, leaning back against it heavily as you bring the clothes up to your nose, inhaling the scent on them, catching the barely there whiff of your perfume. It was the t-shirt you always used to wear to bed. Faded, old and full of more holes then a golf course, but you loved it and not all that long ago Sirius loved seeing you in it. Leaving them on the vanity you turn on the tap, letting it warm all the way up before stripping out of your clothes. You step under the stream of water, cold feet burning as the water hits them. It’s the right kind of pain though. There wasn’t much better than a shower when you were cold.
For a few minutes you just stand there, the heat relaxing some of the tension in your muscles. You think about everything that had happened tonight, confused why Sirius was acting the way he was. There was a part of you that had assumed he’d slam the door in your face, spit something hurtful and tell you that he never wanted to see you ever again. Best case scenario you thought he wouldn’t open the door at all, just leaving you standing outside looking like the fool. The fact that he was being kind of… nice made you feel guilty for thinking those things about him. Just because you weren’t dating anymore didn’t mean that he was going to stop caring. Of all the things that Sirius was, he was never cruel. Tonight more than proved that.
Rinsing the body wash off you stepped out of the shower, digging your toes into the fluffy mat as you grabbed your towel, the steam still swirling around the small room. You take your time drying off, nervous about heading back there and facing him. You don’t know how to talk to him anymore, even though at one point he’d been one of your best friends - long before he was your boyfriend. You’re just slipping his old t-shirt over your head when the light cuts out, bathing you in sudden darkness. You reach blindly for where you think the switch is, flipping it a couple of times when you find it, groaning when it does nothing to help. It takes a couple of goes but you finally find the door handle, fully expecting that the bathroom globe had just blown and the rest of the house would still be lit up. The whole house is in darkness though, the hairs standing up on the back of your neck as you head towards the living room, an eerie kind of silence filling the house. It’s too quiet without the background noise of the tv or fridge, the only sound coming from the storm outside. “Sirius?” You call out hesitantly, the lightning flashing in the windows casting long shadows along the walls.
You feel something graze across your shoulder and you turn quickly, the scream dying in your throat as you see Sirius standing behind you, his face lit up by the torch on his phone. “The whole streets out,” He says flatly. “Does your phone have much battery?” “Uh…” You head back into the bathroom, the light from Sirius’ phone making it easier to see where you left yours on the vanity. You frown when you check the battery levels. “It’s only got about thirty three percent, won’t last long.”
Sirius groans, scrubbing a hand over his face as he looks off towards the living room, a frown on his face, his expression guarded, unreadable. “You don’t remember if we had a torch do you?” “I don’t think so,” You answer, wrapping your arms tight around yourself. “I think there’s some candles in the lounge though… or there was.”
Without a word he shuffles past you and walks down the hall. You follow behind him, watching as he grabs some candles from the cupboard on the tv cabinet. It feels a lot like he just packed you away, hid all the things that reminded him of you. He grabs the matches from the same cupboard, striking one and lighting the candles he’d scattered across the coffee table. Soon the room is illuminated with a soft light. It feels warmer somehow, like it’s taken the chill off the room. Sirius sits on the couch and suddenly that awkward silence is back.
Biting your lip you move across and sit down, keeping as far from him as possible, holding your hands tightly in your lap. You hate how it is between the both of you, how this breakup had rocked the two of you down to your core. While you were simply trying to make it through each new day, Sirius had put walls up around himself and was clearly in no hurry to let you know how he was really feeling. You bite the edge of your lip and wring your hands together. “Crazy storm hey?” You aim for light hearted customer service voice but it comes out forced and a little flat.
Sirius scoffs. “You want to talk about the weather? Really?” “Well it doesn’t seem like you want to have any other kind of conversation… actually it seems like you prefer not talking at all, so let’s just sit here in awkward silence.” “There’s nothing to say.” “You and I both know that’s not true. I just want you to talk to me Sirius, hell yell at me if it’s going to make you feel better; get everything off your chest. Just say something.” “Why now y/n? Why do you suddenly want to air all our dirty laundry? It’s not like you were this desperate to talk about it before.” “That’s not fair,” You reply, digging your fingernails into the palm of your hands. “I tried talking to you, for months before we ended things Sirius. You’re the one that never wanted to deal with it.”
Sirius stands abruptly, stalking to the other side of the room before whirling back to face you, that unreadable expression - the one he’d been wearing since he opened the door - finally breaking. You can’t see him properly from all the shadows in the room but you can see enough to notice the hurt in his eyes. He opens his mouth a couple of times, trying to find the right way to say what he wants to. When he can’t, he storms from the room. You watch him go with a frustrated sigh.
It was all coming to the surface, everything before and after the breakup, all of the feelings the two of you had buried, squashed down and tried to pretend didn’t still exist. The flood gates were open and good or bad the two of you needed closure.
