Thursdays Of Dark Grey Skies; H.p.

thursdays of dark grey skies; h.p.

pairing: harry james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

synopse: who would have thought that one study thursday of dark grey skies could change so much?

warnings: none, just fluff

word count: 5.8k words

a/n: i’m so soft, i genuinely loved writing this. enjoy!

The sky was grey.

And it wasn't your typical is-raining-soon-light-gray type of colour, it was a dark shade of grey that stained the sky. There was no rain, there was no wind, it was just- dark. Like the night was trying to break out sooner than planned, fighting the light out of the day. For an early october thursday afternoon, the grayish weather shouldn't feel this uncommon. This captivating. But it just gave (ironically) such light to everything within the dark air reach. It was strangely so beautiful. Harry was at the library with practically everyone he knows when he looked outside of one of the windows. And when he says 'practically everyone he knows' he really means the whole castle was in there. Thursdays afternoons are homework and study afternoons. You catch up with any subject you could be behind, you finish all the work that was due friday (which happened more often than not) and your weekend would be mostly free. It was the most practical plan for the academic life of most students, as Hermoine had once said. So, the Hogwarts library was the place for the fourth day of the week. The environment created there was, to put it simply, those that made you work harder. Everyone shared the same goal; all the students from all years, all the students from all houses. Almost every table was occupied, and some even had to be conjured in the middle and left side of the room, the places that had more students. Red, yellow, green and blue were mixed around and a friendly and calm atmosphere flew above them. Despite being packed, the noise wasn't too loud. Quiet chatter and laughs could be heard, but nothing too extreme. Madame Prince had long ago quitted shushing students everytime one made any type of sound. It just felt right to be in there. Even more so when the big windows that contorned one of the sides of the enormous room showed the magical view of the dark grey sky. And because the light outside was mostly dim, candles flew all over the room to give enough light to work with. And as Harry looked around he felt content. He was seated in one of the newly conjured tables, a little to the right from the middle, so he had a pretty good view of the room in general. Ron was now discreetly discussing with a Hufflepuff named Ernie MacMillan and Seamus about the excessive amount of work Snape gives them, their potions assignment long forgotten. Fred, George and several of their other friends sat in another table close by, trying to finish their transfiguration project without the twins and Lee destroying anything. Luna was drawing, humming quietly, with Ginny reading just beside her, and Hermoine was helping Dean on the essay of History of Magic along with Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin. Harry had already finished all of his homework for this week (a first in his whole life). He had his arms crossed and leaned back on his chair, now observing the intriguing dark sky. The lazy light coming from the candles complemented beautifully the colour of the clouds. Harry would laugh and talk quietly every now and then with those around him, now being completely relaxed with the new work-free feeling that would linger for a few days. He was just back to looking at the window again when something caught his eye. In the very far corner of the library, on the right side of the room, was someone writing calmly in a piece of parchment with some books laying around. And after a few seconds, Harry recognised the person; it was you. You hadn't talked much in your past school years. Truth to be told, it wasn’t that common for Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's to have classes together, so it all depended on your social luck to befriend one another. But Harry did know who you were. You were in the same year as him, obviously sorted into Ravenclaw, and basically the most beautiful girl Harry has ever seen. Your hair seemed slightly darker because of the light, but your eyes were shining like the little fire of the candles floating around was being reflected within them, and your cute nose was scrunched up ever the slightest in concentration. He then noticed that your legs were crossed beneath you and your feet would sometimes wigle. Not wanting to seem like a creep, Harry teared his eyes from the adorable girl, looking down at his table with a small grin plastered on his features. "She is the cutest, isn't she? " Hermoine said, nudging Harry with a knowing smirk on her face. "What? " Harry snapped his head at his best friend's direction (almost breaking his neck I'm the process), eyes widening. "Y/N. I study with her sometimes. Love her, " now she was just shamelessly messing with him. "Who does Hermoine love? " questioned Ron from the other side of the table, his eyebrows raised as he looked around. "Ron no-" "Y/N. Harry was staring at her. Someone has a crush, " Dean responded with a sing-like voice and a huge grin. The mouth of the boy in question was hanging open by now. "Harry has a crush on who?! " Fred Weasley exclaimed a little too loudly, attracting the attention of almost everyone at their tables. "Shush! " hissed Madame Prince from afar. Harry sighed and banged his head on the table. He really should get new friends. "That Ravenclaw girl! Harry always gushes about her when we get out of DADA with Ravenclaw, " Seamus laughed. "That is so adorable! Ah, young love..." George squealed. Harry tried to go under the table and hide but Hermoine pulled him back almost immediately, making the bespectacled boy scowl. "Don't you guys have any other stuff to do that doesn't concern my love life?" Harry exclaimed indignantly, earning yet another reprimand from Madame Prince. "You're just salty because you know how many guys and girls have their eyes on Y/L/N, " muttered a smirking Ron. "Why won't you talk to her, Harry? " asked Neville rather innocently. Harry looked at you again. Why wouldn't he talk to her? Well, because first- he was awkward; second- what if you didn't want to talk to him?; and third- what would he even say? You continued to write calmly, almost lazily, over the piece of parchment. Harry noted that your hair continued slightly darker, your eyes still shiny, your nose still a little scrunched up, and your feet would still wigle sometimes. And just like that Harry had a small grin again, completely forgetting all about the pairs of eyes on him. "Completely whipped, " whispered Dean to Hermoine. Eventually, they all went back to their tasks, leaving Harry once again alone with his thoughts while looking out of the window. Harry wanted to meet you. He wanted to know your likes and dislikes, what you do when you're anxious or stressed, and find out if you always wiggle your feet when you're sitting. He wanted to know if you were just as attracted to this type of weather as Harry was, or if you preferred sunny days. So, with all of his Griffindor's courage he could gather, he stood up. Harry firstly took off his robes, which were starting to get uncomfortable for a while now, and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. His clothes were a hot mess (quite literally); his vibrant red tie was loose on his neck and his shirt was ruffled, the top of it unbuttoned, as Harry always felt claustrophobic when clothes were too tight on him, and one of the sides of the shirt practically untucked from his black trousers. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tidy it up a little, but the raven black locks stayed as messy as ever. He then adjusted his black rimmed new glasses, oblivious as ever from the intense stares of the boys and girls that were close enough to see the green eyed boy. Taking a deep breath, he started his way towards you. "Hi, " Harry said hesitantly, looking down at you. When you looked up, your heart race picked up significantly . The boy was none other than Harry James Potter. Harry, the cutest and the most adorable boy to ever exist (and one of the hottest, to be honest). You felt a strange tingling sensation in your belly as you took in the careless situation his white shirt was in, his loose tie, the rolled up sleeves, and his messy hair. You also noted that Harry had new glasses. His cheeks were a little flushed, and he was biting his lower lip. If possible, your heart started to beat even faster and you were sure your cheeks were no better than Harry's. Harry, unsurprisingly, didn't really notice that you were practically checking him out, thanks to his nerves, and took your silence the wrong way and panicked. "I'm sorry, It's just that I saw you here alone, and you're really pretty- I mean! The tables's pretty! Yes, very nice strong shiny wood, such a good table, really. " You blinked at him. "And the sofa. Must be so so comfortable this sofa. I see why you like it; it's big and warm and it seems like a really good place to take a nap, " Harry continued his ramble, apparently not being able to stop, and getting more nervous and flustered as he talked. He could just feel the group's hysterics from behind; Ron's uncontrollable laughter and Dean's wheeze, Neville's uncertain thumbs up and Seamus smirk. Harry was pretty sure that Hermoine was facepalming and he was terrified of all the teasing from the twins and Ginny he would have to endure once this nightmare was over. He didn’t even want to imagine what his friends and classmates from the other houses were thinking (probably that his awkwardness was too embarrassing and that they would have a good laugh when telling their own other friends, but it didn't matter). "I'm sorry, I'm just going to go– " Harry started to turn around when a hand stopped him. "No! No, I'm sorry, I was just surprised, " you interrupted, quickly standing up and grabbing Harry's arm, pushing him back. Your hand continued to gently grab his wrist, getting unconsciously closer to his hand at each passing second. Your noses were just a few inches apart as well as your bodies, aching to get just a little bit closer. Harry was sure that his heart had exploded by now and he was just a very alive magical breathing zombie, while you feared that your legs were losing its strength and energy. Harry's hand wanted to touch your waist, but it refrained from doing so, fearing that you wouldn't be comfortable with it. "Besides, I wouldn't want to destroy your dreams and not invite you to sit on this really good sofa. " Harry was stunned for a moment at your unexpected teasing and then laughed the most quietly he could, remembering that you were still at the library with hundreds of other students. And with the help of your shy smile and warmth, as well as the calm environment they were in, Harry started to relax, the bad nervous and insecure feeling slipping away. "I'm Harry, " he breathed. You were still close to him. Almost too close. "Y/N, " you answered just the same, glancing up at his handsome face with a, in Harry's most unbiased opinion, precious small grin. After a few seconds of staring at each other, you both pull slightly apart and sit down on the sofa. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Mr. Potter?" you joked, leaning back to the corner of the sofa, trying to keep your nerves in check. "Well, maybe the infernal teasing from my idiots of friends back there? And you seemed like good company, " Harry responded, leaning back too, turning his head so he could see you. "I'm flattered, but they seem so much fun," you wondered. "Hm, they are. For the majority of time at least. " You turned momentarily your eyes to the parchment over the table. You were writing next week's assignment for History of Magic (you convinced Professor Binn to tell you beforehand) but now you wanted to take a break. You wanted to enjoy Harry's company while it lasted. "How come you're not working or studying? It must be a first in study thursday, " you asked, looking at Harry again, just to see that his eyes were already on you. "For the first time in my life, I'm not behind anything, and already finished my potions assignment with Hermoine's help... So I was just there looking at the window and, well, you know the rest, " said Harry. The big window came all the way down to the far corner Harry and you were in. The new duo was tucked in the corner of the sofa, and had the most perfect view to the outside. You had her back almost turned completely to the window and the wall that met just behind the pillows laying around over the dark red velvet sofa. Harry now noticed that there was a huge red and black squared blanket folded between the cushions and your robes, which looked like they were thrown rather clumsily aside. "How come I've never seen this place? It's way bigger and comfier than the other sofas and tables in here, " Harry frowned. The naps he could have had in here, hiding from Hermoine when she went crazy. You laughed lightly. "Madame Prince is a family friend, so she arranged this place when I came here. Which is more often than not... " you trailed off, noticing Harry puppy's eyes directed at the cushions and her blanket. "Honestly, what is your problem with furniture? Do you fall in love with it every time you see it? " you asked, amusement lacing your voice. Harry snapped his head back at you. "What?! No! " he exclaimed, a little embarrassed. "But this sofa really is the best, truly. I think you'll have a hard time getting rid of me now, " Harry grinned, adjusting his glasses. You had to almost physically stop yourself from fawning over the bewitching boy. "Well, you are now welcome everytime. I could use some company, " you said, feeling giddy. You smiled at each other. "Even if you only come here because of the strong and shiny wood table and the really good sofa and pillows. " "Y/N!" . You and Harry spent the next hour and a half talking and laughing (mostly quietly) with one another. You were just so happy with one another that you didn't want the day to end, afraid that your bond would suddenly disappear. You eventually opened your blanket because it was starting to get too chilly in the library to ignore, even with the flaming fireplaces. The two of you were now tucked in in the blanket, leaning against the many cushions against the line where the window and the wall would meet. Your shoulders, legs and arms were brushing under it, but neither of you made a single move to change that. The room was still packed, seeing that it was still technically early, but not for much longer, as dinner time was slowly approaching. "I absolutely love this weather. It's even more magical than Hogwarts itself," Harry sighed. "Didn't know Potter boy had now become weather boy, " you giggled. "Oh, fuck off, " he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. "But really, I just love it. I think this dark grayish colour is my new favourite. Just after the colour of your eyes, of course, " Harry grinned. "Oh my, someone save me from this corny weather boy, please!" you mumbled dramatically. "But, honestly, it's my favourite too. I'm really hoping for it to rain tonight."  "Yeah, me too. It's one of the best feelings ever, " Harry said foundly. You frowned. "It's just so pretty. I don’t understand how some people don't like it." "Well, not everyone can have good taste, Y/N. Imagine if everybody liked treacle tart? A total tragedy, " Harry sighed in content, imagining one piece of his favourite dessert. He then pouted. "Now I'm hungry. Thank you very much, Y/L/N. " You laughed. You sure seemed to do that a lot with Harry around, and the butterflies in your belly were still yet to fly away. "It's almost dinner time, anyway. So don't worry much, I'll save you one tart when we get there, " you rolled your eyes. Harry's face fell, and he looked at the rest of the library. There was more noise now, almost everyone was exiting the room or cleaning their things up, heading towards the Great Hall. His friends were still at his previous table, some getting up and stretching (Harry could almost swear he heard Dean's back crack all the way to where he was sitting with you) and others making sure everything was in place. "Already?" He asked in a small voice, making you freak out over how cute the boy looked at the moment. Harry's eyebrows were furred and his pout grew even bigger. His pupils were so dilated that you almost couldn't see his green irises. He was sad and disappointed that he had to leave you and your spot, and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought. "Harry, " you called with your eyebrows raised, a smirk plastered on your face, "As much as your lost little puppy face amuses me, we should get going. I too want treacle tart, so let's go, " you teased, starting to put everything in your navy blue bag. "But Y/NNN, " Harry whined, dragging your name. "I am so comfortable right now. Don't want to get up. " "Are you always this dramatic?" you asked, crossing your arms. Harry gave you a lopsided grin, "Did you know that they say that my dad and Padfoot were total drama queens? Must be the genes." You cackled. You weren't even really sure of what, or who he was talking about but it didn't make it less funny. You pushed him off the sofa, yanking the blanket from him and shoving it into your bag, ignoring his protests. You swung your bag over one shoulder and looked up at Harry. "Ready?" Harry mumbled, "Could've at least let me keep the blanket..." You started to walk away, shaking your head, and Harry quickly followed you. "Honestly, Potter, we don't have all night!" "Hey- wait f'me!" Harry exclaimed, hurring to get to you. You just giggled in response, and the two of you made your way to the Great Hall. . Both you and Harry had to endure much teasing and many questions from their respective friends. Harry had his face hidden in his hands, wanting to evaporate out of there. You would play with your rings and roll your eyes at any stupid question. You rolled your eyes quite often. After the initial shock, the whispers and glances had started, annoying you profusely. Can't people just mind their own business? you thought.

Harry wanted to hide under the table, and he had now decided that he should really really really get new friends. Fortunately, the curious stares (at least the obvious ones) eventually stopped. Harry caught your eyes a few times and he made a silly face everytime that happened. You replied every time with another one, enjoying your new 'game'. When the desserts started to appear on the tables, you immediately took two pieces of one of the treacle tarts and lifted your plate excitedly as soon as you and Harry made eye contact again. Harry smirked, and lifted his own plate, showing you three pieces there.

One for you and two for me! he mouthed. You bursted out laughing, shaking your head and shoved a bit of the sweet into your mouth. As for Harry, treacle tarts never tasted better. But this didn't go unnoticed. Especially not the teachers table. Professor Flitwick started a whole bank of bets about his new pair; he and Fred and George Weasley would associate soon enough. "I just know they will be together by January,"  he whispered to himself. "Oh, don't be ridiculous, Filius. Christmas is their time, believe me," answered Professor McGonagall, having heard him clearly even over the room's noise. "February, " piped in Dumbledoor dreamily. "Or never, " grumbled Snape. Professor Sprout threw her water at him. Not long after dinner time had ended, the students went to their respective common room. You and Harry met at the bottom of one of the moving stairs, trying to get ready to go your own way. Ron, Hermoine and a few others waited for him a little far away, not wanting to wait for the teasing to continue. Awkward and flustered Harry was one of their favourites. "Well... I guess I'll see you around," you said, adjusting your bag while looking up at the fidgeting boy. "Yeah..." Harry trailed off, glancing around. He was hitting himself internally for being so lame. "Harry. " you called, lifting your hand to Harry's face so he would face her, thanking everything you knew for your newfound confidence. "Thank you for going to see me at the library. I am really glad you did," you smiled softly. "I am glad, too, " he whispered. Harry then grasped your hand, which was still in his face, and stroked the back of it for a bit. "Good night, Y/N." He eventually said, grinning at your red face. You huffed and pulled your hand away just to push him slightly back. "Don't get all mushy now, you wanker!" "Ah, you wished, Y/L/N, " Harry retorted, starting to walk back to his friends. He then looked at you again. "See you around!" "See you, " you waved and went back to your own friends. . It had been almost three months since that thursday evening, and you Harry really did see each other round. The duo became almost inseparable, if someone saw you, you would see Harry Potter not far away, and where you saw Harry you would see you close by. You had become very close with the rest of the Griffindor's. Harry eagerly introduced you to them a few days after you officially met, and you were welcome with open arms. As for Harry, he was quite nervous when meeting the other Ravenclaw's, but with your help, he soon made new friends with them too. The two of you, despite all of the circumstances, would always make time for one eachother everyday. Be it just relaxing by the black lake, studying at your spot in the library, or messing around the corridors. You had built a beautiful friendship in a very short period of time, and that both scared and amazed you. It was all just so natural. It was all just like it should be. Most said you were secretly dating. After all, you were always touching each other. Arms around the other shoulder or waist, sometimes holding hands, the occasional kisses in cheeks, forehead, head, and the frequent hugs. It all started when you noticed how touch starved Harry was. So, you first started to do small things when you two were alone; grab his hand, lean your head on his shoulder, linger a little longer in your before short awkward hugs. So, when you asked Harry if and how comfortable he was with your affections, and then if you could display them in public, you received a very excited nod from Harry and a very tight hug, as well as a kiss on your head.  

After that, neither of you stopped your affections. Feelings soon developed after your friendship blossomed, but neither you nor Harry acted on it. You liked how things were, you liked your intimate uncomplicated friendship. And besides, you thought that the others' feelings were purely platonic, afraid of rejection. Hermoine and Ron had yelled at the both of you because of it more often than not. It was almost Christmas time, and you couldn't wait for it. You would be seeing your family for the first time in a while, and then you would finally meet the rest of Weasleys, as Ron had invited you to spend the rest of the holiday at his house. When you knew that both Harry and Hermoine were going too, you couldn't help but say yes. Just a few more days. It was thursday again, and because of your now finished tests and exams, you and Harry decided to ditch the study day to spend the afternoon at the black lake. It was nostalgic. The afternoon was just the same as the day you had met, except this time the sky seemed even darker. There was still no wind, and there was still no rain, only the dark sky and the winter cold air. Harry had his back against one of the trees close by, and you were snuggled up to him, trying to block out the cold, even though the you two were under your warm red and black squared blanket. Harry's strong arms were wrapped around your figure perfectly, making you relish the fuzzy feeling that went through your bodies, as you both tried to get comfortable.

Your hair was pulled into a careless bun to keep it out of your face. A fluffy scarf was wrapped around your neck, and you had previously discarded your robe into a shorter and warmer dark blue cape. Your nose and cheeks were flushed with the cold temperature, but you could've sworn you had never felt so warm before. In your gloved hands was a securely held book, and you tried to get lost in its world. Which was very very difficult when Harry was just behind you, holding you, being the adorable boy he was. He had a black beanie in his head and some of his messy raven locks escaped underneath it. His nose and cheeks were pink as well, making his green eyes stand out. Harry wore a dark blue (almost black) hoodie which was a little big on him, but you almost died of how cute it looked on him. For the past half an hour, not much was spoken between you two. You wanted to just finish that chapter, and Harry was trying his best to not disturb you (although it was quite difficult for him to stay still). He first stared a little at you, as you were too beautiful to not to. Then, he read the book with you for a while, but quickly got distracted by the weather. It entranced him, just like in that day at the library. If he could, he would look at it for hours. Harry didn't notice when you closed your book, adjusted the blanket around you more tightly and looked up at him. Only when you lifted your hand to cup one of his flushed cheeks did Harry snap out of his trance. Harry leaned into your touch. "Hello there," he gave you a boyish smile. "Hi, weather boy," you grinned. You stroked his cheek slowly while your other hand reached for his crooked glasses. "I thought we agreed to not talking about that again," Harry frowned. But he wasn't really upset by it, if the amusement in his eyes were anything to go by. You shrugged. "You were making heart eyes at it again." "Well, it's just like the day we met! Remember?" Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Of course I do. Such a special day. The day I found out that the Harry James Potter fell in love with couches and tables." you said, trying to keep a straight face. But when Harry gave you the most done look you had ever seen, you bursted out laughing. "You will never let that go, will you?" Harry huffed, turning his face to the opposite side from you. "Never," you said. However, when you saw his pout, you couldn't resist and leaned to kiss his jaw. "But, honestly? It was one of the most important days of my life." Harry turned to you. "Why?" he asked curiously. "Because I got to meet the one who would become my favourite person," you smiled softly. Harry's heart was practically bursting out of his chest and he was very worried that you could hear it. He could only stare into your eyes, and the need to taste you was becoming too unbearable for him. A minute passed. Then two. And Harry finally opened his mouth. "I really want to kiss you right now, " he breathed. Your mind went almost completely blank, a very rare occurrence. All you knew was- one, if you were standing right now your legs would have probably given you up; two, the strange feeling in your belly was starting to become a little too intense; and three, you really wanted to kiss him too. It didn't take much for you to answer. "So why don't you?" You met half ways, neither was sure of who moved first. Your mouths were just pressing each other softly, relishing on the new mind-blowing feeling. Harry's lips were slightly chapped because of the cold and they moulded perfectly against your soft ones. It was a soft, innocent peck that lingered for some time. Harry pulled apart after a few seconds, opening his eyes and looking into yours. Harry's breathing was uneven matching your breathy one. And in one quick and craving move, you kissed again. Your hands were on Harry's chest, moving them in an up-and-down motion. Harry grabbed you by the torso and pulled you onto his lap, trying to get you as close as possible. This time, the kiss was passionate, almost desperate, as your mouths moved against each other. Neither cared about the air necessity; you didn't want to pull away, and Harry didn't really care if the oxygen in his lungs ended. Harry brushed his tongue against your bottom lip, making youpart them. Your tongues involved with one another, fighting for dominance. Your teeth would sometimes clash but not in a painful way, it was in a hungry one. You eventually gave up and let Harry explore your mouth. You focused now on the feeling of his body pressed on you; his well built (thank Merlin for quidditch) yet slim body. You travelled your hands up to his neck and your fingers played with the hairs that escaped the beanie on the nape of it. You then threw the beanie to where your book was lying, and ran your hands through his locks, no doubt making them even more messy. When your lungs were finally burning too much, you pulled away just enough for you to trail hot-mouthed kisses from the corner of Harry's mouth, to his jaw and his neck. Harry leaned his head slightly back so you could continue to leave kisses on his exposed skin. He was breathing hard, and he gripped his arms around your waist and torso for stability. His mouth was slightly agape, and he definitely wasn't much cold anymore. Harry didn’t even notice until now that the navy blanket fell just around your waists, keeping the lower part of your bellies and legs warm. You trailed her kisses back to his lips, leaving one chaste kiss there before pressing your forehead against Harry’s. Your breaths were ragged and neither of you had the energy just yet to open their eyes. A few minutes later, your eyes fluttered open and you saw Harry already staring at you with a small smile on his face. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you say thank you? Or confess your feelings for the boy. But wasn't it obvious? Well, Harry really could be very oblivious sometimes. Maybe you should just run and move out of the castle. You have always wondered what Beauxbatons looked like, maybe you could go there. But your thoughts were interrupted when Harry sighed. "You're so pretty," he whispered, as if talking would be too loud and ruin your moment. You chuckled. "I am going to be honest, this was the most unexpected thing I could have thought of when I woke up this morning, and I don't really know what to think, " you said, brushing your nose with Harry’s. "Oh, hm, was-was it bad? I-I'm sorry, didn’t mean to-" Harry started to ramble, and tried to pull away. "No! No, Merlin Harry, I'm sorry, didn’t mean to make you feel bad!" you rushed to say, and hugged him closer. "It was really perfect, I just don't know what this means for us now, you know? It's a little scary, that's all." Harry leaned in and brushed your lips together. He gave you a light kiss before pulling back with the most gorgeous smile you had ever seen. "Well, it would be a little awkward if now you said you didn’t like me back, but I'm pretty sure your mouth was saying something really different not even five minutes ago, so-" "You're a complete idiot, did you know that Harry Potter?" you exclaimed in disbelief. "Your idiot now." You looked like a little kid on Christmas. "My idiot." You snuggled against Harry's chest, being now turned sideways on his lap, and leaned your forehead into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Harry's arms were still closely wrapped around you. You then pulled the blanket up again, making sure it covered all of your bodies, trying to keep the warmth that didn't escape. Harry looked up at the clouds. The dark grey colour still stained them, and little drops of rain met the ground timidly. He didn’t notice when it had started raining thanks to the tree you and Harry were currently leaned on. The smiles on your faces didn't seem to want to leave. It seemed the same. Just like that thursday at the library, as if nothing had changed. But things really did change, and in the most unique and pure way possible. Harry returned his attention to the girl in his arms and hugged you tighter. A content sigh left his lips as he closed his eyes. Here he was, in his favourite place, his home; in Hogwarts, with this magic sky above him, almost protecting him from all his nightmares just because of it's magic aura, with you in his arms. How he got so lucky? He wasn't quite sure. But he finally was happy. Thank Merlin for thursdays, especially the ones with dark grey skies.

saw this a few months ago, saw this again now, still one of my absolute favourites <3

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Keep reading

this is perfect what

no way home spoilers ahead!

.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛 andrew!peter x avenger!reader | fluff

summary: imagine being tom!peter’s bestfriend while having a crush on andrew!peter. [witch!reader, fem!reader, mentions of smut (?)]

based off this request and this writing prompt.

This one has all Peters, so for less confusion,

pete - tom!peter.

peter - andrew!peter

ben - tobey!peter (cause its peter benjamin parker)

“SLOW DOWN!” you yelled.

“No! It’s day three of Super Spidey Week!” Pete, your bestfriend, shrieked as he started swinging across the town even faster. You clung onto him with fear written over your face.

Super Spidey Week — otherwise known as a weeklong break for the three Peter Parkers — was something they did every three months. They meet up in a particular Earth, and take a much needed break from fighting monsters and instead catch up on each other’s lives. It was exclusive to the three of them. 

Well, the three of them and you. Pete never had any fun without you, which was part of the Bestfriend Pact you made in third grade. If he knew the real reason you went along with him, he would freak out.

Keep reading

oh my god 😭 <33

Unbuttoned (Sirius Black x Reader)

W/C: 1.8k

A/N: I just wanted to write the softest Sirius x Reader fic I could manage. It's just fluff, with a bunch of cursing. fem!reader & brief mentions of alcohol.

You realize you’re in love with Sirius Black in the midst of a storm so tempestuous it feels apocalyptic. And you suppose that’s fitting, given you’ve just acknowledged that the feelings you've been harbouring for one of your dearest friends are deeper and more achingly desirous than they have any right to be. This realization—the bottom of the chasm through which you’ve been falling for years—certainly feels like the end of something, but you’re hoping that this particular ending leads to the beginning of something infinite.

How did you get here? Not here, outside in the pouring rain on the abandoned Quidditch pitch in the middle of April. But here, in the rich complexity that is love; the tangle of feelings and thoughts and wants and needs and hopes and fears that makes you weak in the knees and yet completely invincible. Yes, you had fallen completely and terribly, tumbled heart first, into the abyss that was love. And there, at the depths of your soul was him. Sirius Black.

Sirius fucking Black. The boy who had copied your Transfiguration notes since first year. The boy who shimmied in beside you during breakfast and stole the toast off your plate because you, apparently, knew just the right ratio of butter to marmalade to bread. The boy who teased you about the your height (or lack thereof) and made it a point to dramatically get Potions ingredients from the top shelf of the storage room for you.

The boy who wasn’t a boy anymore, but a man. A man whose soul had ached and broken and healed with the love of his friends, whose shoulders had broadened and voice had deepened, and who had grown taller and more mischievous and increasingly loyal.

But why today? Why now? Was it those damn muggle movies you grew up watching that told you the rain was romantic and the bad boy — for Sirius was Hogwarts’ resident bad boy, though he cared little for the title — was supposed to fall for the quiet, bookish girl who’d been there by his side all along? It was so cliché that you’d turn the movie of your life off at this point. But today was the day that the realization slipped its warm fingers inside your chest and gave your heart one extra squeeze — as if to say hey, don’t forget to take care of me.

You’re not sure if it’s the fact that Sirius convinced you to come out here—not that he’d had to try very hard, making those perfectly persuasive eyes at you and insisting he needed to clear his head after studying for a grand total of twenty minutes. Or perhaps it was the way he quite literally swept you off your feet to fly you around the empty Quidditch pitch, your arms secured firmly around his waist and your chest pressed up against his back, holding on tightly because you’d never been a big fan of flying, much preferring to have your feet planted on solid ground, thank you very much. Maybe it’s both those things and so much more, because haven’t you been noticing the way your fingertips want to linger on Sirius’s skin and the way your stomach tightens when he catches your eye and shoots you a smile that somehow stops your heart and restarts it all at once.

Maybe it’s the kiss you shared at Christmas, both a little tipsy in front of the Potter’s fireplace, high on the sound of one another’s laughter and one too many pieces of Euphemia’s incomparable Christmas cake. That kiss that you haven’t talked about, but that still makes you blush every time you remember the way Sirius’s tongue had gently intertwined with your own and the way his hands had held you, one caressing the back of your neck while the other drew smooth circles on your stocking-clad thigh. Maybe it’s the idea that that kiss might have escalated, might have drawn you both out of yourselves and into each other had James not come bounding down the hall, shouting for the two of you to come see what Remus was doing.

(He’d been juggling, completely pissed on Firewhiskey and a fancy rum that Fleamont had purchased from a muggle liquor store. And while you had to admit Remus juggling was a sight worth seeing, you couldn’t help but to wonder what could have — would have — been).

Maybe it’s the way Sirius calls you puppy, the nickname holding connotations of care and ownership so that it thrills you each time the word leaves his sweet, sweet lips. Or, it could be the fact that he refers to you as his best girl, his pretty girl, his dove. Always his. Merlin, how you wished.

It’s certainly not helped by the knowing looks you’ve noticed Remus casting your way when he catches your eyes on Sirius instead of on the parchment of the homework you’re working on. The smug grin on his face when you quickly whip your eyes back to where they’re supposed to be. The absolutely frustrating way that Remus makes sure to leave space between the two of you in every class so Sirius has no choice but to sit sandwiched there. He’s such an outrageously good friend it makes you want to smother him — with hugs and sometimes a pillow.

Maybe it’s all of that and more — the way Sirius has barged into your dorm three Sunday mornings in a row now, just because he misses his girl (there it is again!), causing your roommates to groan; the way he whispered his gratitude when you bandaged his knuckles after he punched some Slytherin who spoke ill of Remus last week; the way he hugs you after each full moon to assure you that your friends are all in one piece and then lets you take care of him, allowing himself to be soft and vulnerable with you in a way that no one else is allowed to see.

Yes, it’s all of that. His charm, his recklessness, his joy, his pain, his loyalty, his smell, his voice, his hands, his heart and his soul and, of course, his hair. Saints, his hair is fucking perfect.

It’s funny the way the thoughts come to you like a deluge from your spot on his broomstick, streaking across the grey sky between bolts of lightning, your heart palpitating partly from the thrill of the ride, but mostly from the absolute impulsiveness of the decision you’re about to make.

“Sirius!” You call out over the swirl of wind that blows its course past you, somehow never interrupting the control he has of your flight, “We should land. It’s so bad out here!”

As if to emphasize your point, thunder claps loudly to punctuate your words and you feel your fingers dig deeper into Sirius’s sides, literally holding on to all that is dear. The only indication that Sirius heard you is the feeling in your stomach of falling—this time, literally. Your guts feel as though they’re still in the air as Sirius expertly hurtles you toward the Earth, stopping just short of the ground, his feet landing perfectly on the mud-streaked pitch.

You don’t realize you’ve been screaming until Sirius is laughing at you and turning to face you so he can grab your shoulders and steady you.

“I got you, Y/N,” he laughs heartily, “I’d never let anything happen to my best girl.”

Your hands are shaking as Sirius helps you off the broomstick, your boots sinking slightly in the muck.

“You’re mad,” you whisper at him, close enough to his body that you’re certain he can hear you despite the rain. In the back of your mind, you wonder how ratty you look right now with your hair sopping down your shoulders, your robes sticking to you, and your mascara probably running down your cheeks in unflattering streaks. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to care because Sirius has seen you at your best and he’s seen you at your worst and right now, you’re just you.

“Yes, probably,” he agrees with you, a smirk on his lips, “But you love it.”

Shit. You did. You love him. And though you’d never been as much of a daredevil as this boy—man—standing before you, there’s something on the tip of your tongue, battling to be let loose from your lips, threatening to burn you if you swallow it whole.

“I love you.” Your reply is in earnest and the way you say it makes Sirius pause, his own hair a dishevelled wet mess (yet still, somehow, perfect—fucker), his lashes fluttering at you as he tilts his head to the side. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out—that’s a first, and it makes you slightly concerned. Then his lips are pursed and his brow is furrowed and he backs up a step and you think your heart might stop beating and you want to sink into the mud completely, let it consume you and never give you back to the daylight.

“Don’t joke,” Sirius says, voice short and uncertain. You laugh—loudly. It’s the only reaction you can think to have and that laugh completely dies on your lips, replaced by something softer, yet more desperate. Him.

Sirius is kissing you—hard. He’s kissing you like his very salvation depends upon finding something in your kiss. What does he want to find? Requited feelings, warm comfort, infinity? You kiss him back, running your tongue along his lips, giving him all those things and more. Giving him yourself—his best girl, his pretty thing, his, his his, as you’ve always been.

His hands come up to tangle in your hair, one sliding down your cheek and you wonder if the wetness there is all from the rain or if you’re crying because it feels like a millstone has been lifted from your shoulders and you’re fairly certain if Sirius didn’t have a solid hold on you, you’d float away.

And then he’s pulling you even closer, bringing your body into the folds of his own and even though it’s raining and cold, you feel heated, like the sun is shining only for you.

Just as it feels as though your lungs will collapse with lack of air, Sirius’s lips let yours go and you inhale deeply, chest heaving. His is doing the same as he stares into your eyes, that vulnerability only you’re allowed to see fully on display.

“I wasn’t joking,” you say quietly, another crack of lightning illuminating the sky behind you. It’s nothing, you think, compared to the electricity you feel in Sirius’s gaze.

It’s his turn to laugh and then he kisses you again, softly and quickly this time. His lips are just hovering over yours, his hands on your waist. “I love you, Y/N.”

howlers; h.p.

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

synopse: everytime harry fucks anything up and gets in trouble, there is a bet: which howler will he be receiving?

warnings: everything’s fine au, howlers, james and sirius being an iconic duo, just fluff

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this idea is from a pin i saw (can’t link it here), so credits to its owner! hope you enjoy it :)

.

Harry James Potter's life was no easy task, but in the best way possible.

Voldemort had been defeated on the fateful 31st October of 1981, within the dark sky of halloween night. No one knew exactly what happened; just that he went to the Potter's to kill the youngest of them, and the curse, apparently, backfired. There was also a rumor about a stag and a black dog, but we will not get into detail. All that mattered was that Voldemort was gone. For good.

Most of his followers went to Azkaban, including Peter Pettigrew, for his betrayal and hidden devoted passion to the dark side. There were some rebellions in the following years, but nothing too big, as their leader had fallen. And because there were such good aurors taking care of everything.

So, having James Potter as his father, Sirius Black as his godfather, and Remus Lupin as his, basically, second father and godfather, growing up was eventful, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong; he absolutely loved them with all of his might. He just wished that they made it easier for him sometimes. Like now, for example.

It was a typical wednesday morning. Everyone was in the Great Hall, as breakfast time was still going and there would be no classes for another half an hour.

You were currently almost completely in your boyfriend's lap, eating your cereals and talking happily to Ginny and Hermoine.

Harry, however, was not very happy; in fact, he was dreading every minute of this breakfast.

He had his arms wrapped around your waist, and his head was buried in your shoulder, eyes closed. He was trying his best to ignore his friends' teasing, the glances from people around and, mainly, the big windows.

Why? Because Hedwig would enter the Hall any minute now. Why was he dreading it? Howlers, of course.

He had pranked Snape along with the Weasley twins the previous day. It was pretty good, if you asked Harry. All of the cauldrons had exploded, and confetti was thrown at Snape, as it was his birthday. They just had to do it. One week of detention and McGonagalls lectures were more than worth it. But there was a little detail that Harry always seemed to forget; the howler he would get the day after.

There were just three options:

1, James and Sirius congratulating him and wishing they were there;

2, Lily wanting to beat his arse;

Or 3, everything mixed together and the complete chaos.

So, here he was; trying to hide in you, hoping you would save him. "Harry, love, I swear to Merlin, I loved your prank-"

"Hey!--" Fred and George yelled from somewhere.

"- but what were you expecting? They do this all the time. You better be hoping that my mom won't be in that howler, then it would be embarrassing," you grinned at him. In all honesty, you usually were involved in the mess (growing up with Harry would do that to you) and your mom was a troublemaker along with the Marauders in their years- the only voice of sense being Lily (even though we all know that Lily secretly loved it all). So, this didn't really faze you; it was actually amusing.

You weren't part of this prank because Harry wanted it to be a surprise. And one hell of a surprise it was.

You too got a week worth of detention because you couldn't stop laughing. Ron and Dean got 3 days. The rest of the students got all one night just because.

"Why can't they just be normal people?" Harry's muffled voice asked.

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. "We are talking about our families here, Harry. Nothing less should be expected."

A few moments passed. Everyone was talking with their friends, and the High Table was still full with all of the professor's and staff. The noise in the Great Hall was full of life, and it was strangely comforting.

Suddenly all the chatter died down, and everyone was looking at the windows. Harry immediately seated upright and snapped his head to the windows direction.

The motion almost made you fall, and that made Harry wrap his arms tighter around you, and pull your body flushed against his well-built chest.

A snowy owl majestically flew around the room with two letters in its beak. One of them was bright red.

Harry loudly groaned which got several chuckles from around. He could swear that Hedwig did this every time for attention. Sirius probably bribed her to do it; fly in the most attention-bringer moment. Fucking Padfoot.

The letters fell into your lap, as you were still on Harry. You cackled loudly as you picked the howler up and wiggled it right in front of Harry's face.

Harry pouted and took the letter, sighing. Looking around, he saw every single pair of eyes on them, the silence defining.

Harry closed his eyes tightly in exasperation, taking one last deep breath, and opened the howler.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, WHAT THE HELL--" Lily's voice bellowed.

"I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU, SON!--"

"James Fleamont,"

"MOONY MOONY MOONY, DID YA HEARD ABOUT THE PRANK?!"

"SIRIUS, NO! WHERE DID YOU CAME FROM, OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"PADS, THE PRANK ON SNIVELLUS, BRILLIANT! He learned it from me--"

"Actually, if he learned it from someone it was from me. Remember that time, Remus and Sirius were--" your mother's voice echoed through the letter.

"NO! Out of here!" Remus' voice yelled in the background.

"And he got what? One week worth of detention? AMAZING!" Sirius laughed.

"Minnie's getting soft, honestly--"

"Harry, please behave; I love you- James you get back here right this second or I swear to Godric."

"Lily-flower, darling, hey--!" James yelped after a big metallic bang!.

"Goodbye, Harry, " Remus chuckled.

"Don't forget to write to us! And you too Y/N!" your mother excitedly said.

"PADFOOT NO--!"

And the howler ended.

For ten solid seconds, no one said anything.

And then, the chaos started.

Yells and money was being passed around. At this point, it was regular free entertainment for everyone. Harry wanted to at least pretend that he was embarrassed, but really, he couldn't.

You yelled out a 'yes!' before jumping from Harry’s lap and running to the High Table.

Once you reached it, you slammed your two hands right in front of Dumbledoor and McGonagall. "Well, professor, it seems like you have a small debt to pay, isn't it?" you smirked.

Dumbledoor sighed. "Very well. Ms. Y/L/N," he gave you a small bag full of galleons. "Minerva," he gave McGonagall another one.

"Yes, Albus, Ms. Y/L/N is quite right, I reckon. And I believe you also owe me something, no?" Minerva raised her eyebrows with a small proudful smile.

You high-fived McGonagall, who rolled her eyes, and put your galleons in a hidden pocket of your robe. "Nice doing business with you. Headmaster, Minnie," you started to walk run back to her table.

When you got there, everything was still the same. Yells, laughs, bickering, the usual. You took place in your boyfriend's lap again, this time facing him and grinned as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Hello there, my love!"

Harry bit his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "How much did you get this time?"

You eyed him suspiciously. However, you quickly gave in when Harry raised an eyebrow. "...20 galleons," you answered proudly.

Harry grinned. "Why do they keep betting with you?"

"Maybe they still haven't memorised the sore taste of loss?" you sighed dramatically.

"Merlin, I love you so much," Harry laughed and brought your face closer.

"Of course you do, doesn't everybody?" you teased.

Harry deadpanned.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding, I've been spending way too much time with Padfoot, haven't I?" you tried again. No response from Harry. You then beamed. "I love you."

Harry brushed your lips together, a soft smile adorning his face. And when you were sure he would kiss you, he suddenly smirked. "Doesn't everybody?"

"Harry James Potter!"

Yes, his life really was not easy, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

masterlist

all of my works will be linked in here.

a reminder: there is no smut, as i don’t feel comfortable writing it; my works are all mainly fluff and angst (maybe idk).

the golden era

the marauders era