Hp Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

Chapter One: Trial By Fire

Tee repays a debt and makes a promise. The professors debate on the chaos of the world outside. Dumbledore sets Snape a task. Harry and Ruby try to get a grasp of the situation. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3

Harry didn’t think Neville, like a lot of people at Hogwarts, had ever gotten over Theodore Nott’s revelation, or the suspicion that Ruby had been the one poisoning everyone.

Well — that, and the fact that the events of a few weeks ago had been hastily covered up. There was no way to explain what had happened with Mordred without explaining that Voldemort had Horcruxes, and so, Dumbledore had left his explanation as vague as possible.

A few years ago, I stood before you, and said that dark forces were attempting to penetrate Hogwarts — the defences that surround us, as well as those within us. Since that day, we have faced many grave threats. And it was a grave threat indeed that we faced last night.

Dark forces are at work within this school. Voldemort’s forces. A servant of his was thwarted last night.

Harry recalled looking out across the silent, anxious crowd. His eyes had been drawn to the Slytherin table, to Theodore Nott, staring up at Dumbledore.

And everything in him had filled with hate.

This servant, this instrument of darkness, attempted to drive wedges between us, to weaken us. Know this — if we do not stand together, regardless of House, regardless of blood status — we shall surely fall.

Chapter Two: In Need of Assistance

Umbridge takes power. The Order sets up residence. Snape returns to his old master. Riddle and Dumbledore go shopping. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3

“—And you still wish to spy for me, to spy on the Order of the Phoenix, and more importantly, Dumbledore?” Voldemort leaned forward, his red eyes widening.

“I do,” said Snape unflinchingly. His expression, his manner, his mind — they all were the image of the same single-minded, transparent dedication Lord Voldemort so admired.

“Have you not developed a fondness for your Headmaster? You have known him for far longer than you knew me.”

Lifting his head to look directly into Voldemort’s eyes, Snape said: “I swore an oath, My Lord, an oath to you and you only. Now that the Ministry has forced Hogwarts to close for the summer, I may move about freely.”

Voldemort regarded him for a long time in silence.

“Good,” he said finally. “That is very good, Severus.” And then, “What of the boy?”

“Potter,” spat Snape with obvious distaste, “is hidden with the Order.”

Likely under a Fidelius as well as the blood protection. But that is not the boy I meant. Let us see: will he catch on?

Chapter Four: Unwelcome Arrivals

Harry and Ruby return to Hogwarts. Two unexpected arrivals turn up at the feast. Dumbledore and Snape plot. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

"Oh, there you are," said Hermione, elbowing her way through the crowd. "Come on, we don't want to be late for schedules."

Hermione said schedules as if the schedules were tickets to a blockbuster film.

At least someone's starting off the year in a good mood, thought Harry as they filtered into the Great Hall. He tried to ignore the snatches of conversation.

"That Potter, he's probably up to no good again."

"Still think he isn't a Dark Lord?"

"I'll bet anything he's the one who destroyed the wards."

It was impossible to ignore — not with the staring and pointing. Harry's already low mood plummeted to the ground as he followed Ron and Hermione to the Gryffindor table. Professor McGonagall was already moving along the table, handing out schedules.

Ron uttered a low groan as if he had been wounded.

"What?" asked Hermione, already absorbed in colour-coding.

"Double Defence, first thing in the morning."

Hermione shook her quill at him, dripping cobalt blue ink. "Oh, get off it, Ron, he's only your brother!"

no-context spoilers (ACA #6)

“Speaking nonsense, Potter?” asked Riddle, almost gloating. “You’re completely helpless … I could do anything to you and you wouldn’t be able to stop me, would you?”

He raised his hand, ropes shooting out the end of his wand again, but this time, Harry was too slow, and the binds shackled his hands and feet together, leaving him writhing on the floor, as helpless as Riddle had said. He shouted at him as Riddle stalked closer, but only incomprehensible babbling came out.

Riddle crouched down next to Harry, peering at him, a lock of dark hair falling almost demurely into his face. He felt the warm point of Riddle’s wand against his forehead, a tiny circle of phoenix fire.

“I could kill you right now, Harry. I could take your life. What will you do to stop me?”

Chapter Six: Death Becomes Her

Harry dreams of his mother's death. Dumbledore makes good on a promise. Tee and Anthony meddle. Ruby faces her Housemates. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

"Don't worry about it, Draco," said Theodore. "She's been funny since the incident last year."

You oily, greasy little sneak. Bile rose in her throat.

"By the way, not sure if any of you noticed, but there's something far more important than Quidditch this year, and that's O.W.L.s," said Daphne primly, and Ruby was grateful for the redirection.

"And some of us," she said, with a pointed glance at Crabbe and Goyle, "might need additional help."

"Oh, and are you volunteering as tutor, Daph?" asked Pansy, turning towards her with a simper. "That's so admirable. I suppose that's why you're the prefect."

"Durmstrang's level of teaching's far more advanced than Hogwarts'," Malfoy bragged. "I'm sure I must be at N.E.W.T. level by now. We started Conjuration fourth year."

Then I wonder who Crabbe and Goyle forced to do their homework.

"If only you could conjure a gag, to keep that running sore in the middle of your face shut," hissed Blaise through his teeth, his high-fashion-model features twisting in disgust.

"You sound like you're warming up to challenge me to a duel, Zabini," said Malfoy, spit flying from his mouth, "which is a really bad idea, because I'll have a lot to explain about your condition to Madam Pomfrey, and we'll both be expelled."

Chapter Seven: Little Shop of Horrors

Harry and Ruby consult Sirius and Lupin. On Halloween, T. M. Riddle tails the Ancient Runes lesson and uncovers a mysterious threat. Umbridge and Narcissa visit. Naturally, chaos ensues. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

Below them, the Great Hall had erupted into chaos, some students revelling in Umbridge’s fright, others clamouring and arguing amongst themselves, several shouting at Goldstein to shut up.

“Stop calling him a liar, I saw them too!” shouted Ruby, popping up from the Slytherin table to glare at everyone. The dark-skinned boy next to her was grinning ear to ear, looking around excitedly at the drama unfolding.

“Like anyone would believe her after what she did!”

“Well, they are probably telling the truth,” said a Ravenclaw, “that’s what you get for hanging around with a Potter, anyway!”

A redheaded boy at the Gryffindor table started to get up before Harry and the bushy-haired girl pulled him back down.

Tee chanced a look at Umbridge. She appeared to have been drained of all colour, her wet eyes wide, livid, and incredulous at her loss of control of the situation. The Potions Master’s schadenfreude seemed to have triumphed over his composure. Minerva looked even more annoyed than she had the entire evening as insults and jibes flew across the hall.

“Look, I just think we all need to calm down,” said a tall Hufflepuff in a diplomatic tone, standing and spreading his arms as if to steady a spooked horse.

Chapter Eight: Tactics and Blunders

“Either you didn’t see them, or you’ve got a death wish. Anyway, the Aurors are looking into it already, what’re we going to do that they can’t?”

“For one,” said Hermione, from behind her newspaper, “they’ve finished the investigation.” Looking almost as severe as Professor McGonagall on a bad day, she folded up the newspaper and handed it to Ron.

Harry leaned forward, peering over his shoulder.

INFERI SIGHTING AT HOGSMEADE PROVEN TO BE A HOAX

Several Hogwarts students claimed to have encountered Inferi at a junk shop at Hogsmeade 31st of October; an Auror investigation proved this sighting to be a bad Halloween prank. Several charmed skeletons were found at the back of the shop, Stitches and Draughts, matching the eyewitness descriptions. With tensions high and the threat of the Dementors in very recent memory, the Auror Task Force explained, it is an easy, but unfortunate mistake. Graciously, the Minister herself—

“See!” said Ron, flushing with excitement. “I knew it!”

Anthony snatched the newspaper out of Ron’s hands, upsetting a tureen of cream of mushroom soup. His face grew redder and redder as he scanned the article, eyes narrowing.

Hermione exchanged a worried look at Harry.

It did seem a little… convenient, thought Harry, as he slowly watched the Prophet crumple around Anthony’s grip.

“You seriously believe this rubbish over me?” asked Anthony, in that same, icy tone. “Come on, we all know the Prophet isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” Ron muttered.

“Hermione?” asked Harry, hoping Anthony would listen to her if not to them.

Hermione, who still looked grim, nodded, and Harry thought he could almost see the gears whirring in her brain.

“Well, we know the Prophet isn’t trustworthy, so even if the Aurors did find something, they could hide it. But why would they want to do that?”

Now, Anthony looked subdued. “I don’t know,” he said, scratching the wooden table with a fingernail. The prefect badge pinned to his robes glinted in the dim light, and Harry noticed that the skin under his eyes was swollen and purple. “I have a hunch.”

Sirius broods. Mafalda sticks her neck out. Ruby and Anthony won't stop talking about the Inferi. Harry gets himself into trouble. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

Chapter Eight: Tactics and Blunders

“Either you didn’t see them, or you’ve got a death wish. Anyway, the Aurors are looking into it already, what’re we going to do that they can’t?”

“For one,” said Hermione, from behind her newspaper, “they’ve finished the investigation.” Looking almost as severe as Professor McGonagall on a bad day, she folded up the newspaper and handed it to Ron.

Harry leaned forward, peering over his shoulder.

INFERI SIGHTING AT HOGSMEADE PROVEN TO BE A HOAX

Several Hogwarts students claimed to have encountered Inferi at a junk shop at Hogsmeade 31st of October; an Auror investigation proved this sighting to be a bad Halloween prank. Several charmed skeletons were found at the back of the shop, Stitches and Draughts, matching the eyewitness descriptions. With tensions high and the threat of the Dementors in very recent memory, the Auror Task Force explained, it is an easy, but unfortunate mistake. Graciously, the Minister herself—

“See!” said Ron, flushing with excitement. “I knew it!”

Anthony snatched the newspaper out of Ron’s hands, upsetting a tureen of cream of mushroom soup. His face grew redder and redder as he scanned the article, eyes narrowing.

Hermione exchanged a worried look at Harry.

It did seem a little… convenient, thought Harry, as he slowly watched the Prophet crumple around Anthony’s grip.

“You seriously believe this rubbish over me?” asked Anthony, in that same, icy tone. “Come on, we all know the Prophet isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” Ron muttered.

“Hermione?” asked Harry, hoping Anthony would listen to her if not to them.

Hermione, who still looked grim, nodded, and Harry thought he could almost see the gears whirring in her brain.

“Well, we know the Prophet isn’t trustworthy, so even if the Aurors did find something, they could hide it. But why would they want to do that?”

Now, Anthony looked subdued. “I don’t know,” he said, scratching the wooden table with a fingernail. The prefect badge pinned to his robes glinted in the dim light, and Harry noticed that the skin under his eyes was swollen and purple. “I have a hunch.”

Sirius broods. Mafalda sticks her neck out. Ruby and Anthony won't stop talking about the Inferi. Harry gets himself into trouble. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

Chapter Nine: Red Rum, Red Hands

Oh, he’s spotted it,” said Blaise from behind her, his voice giddy with anticipation.

“Who?” asked Parvati.

There was no answer, because Harry and Cedric both seemed to dive in unison, robes snapping in the wind after what must be the Snitch near the ground, far too small to see.

“Now, the technique Potter’s using’s called a Spiral Dive—” Blaise began.

“Shhh,” said Parvati, almost dangling over the railing. “They’re so close!”

The two Seekers were neck and neck, hands outstretched, pressing themselves flatter against their brooms—

Then they both pulled up. Hard. The Snitch must have slipped away.

“Well, wasn’t that hair-raising?” called Lee, and the stadium cheered in approval. “It’s still anyone’s game, sixty to eighty, Gryffindor to Hufflepuff — but Johnson’s currently doing her best to make that score even.”

The tension in Harry’s shoulders as he rose was clear even from far away. The Gryffindor stands yelled encouragement, but he seemed indifferent, unhearing as he watched the swarming chaos of red and yellow below. Cedric looked similarly contemplative.

And then, it happened.

Cedric dove.

“Diggory spotted the Snitch!” called Lee. “With Potter in pursuit — no, where’s Potter, why’s he just sitting there? Earth to Potter!”

“Why isn’t he following?” asked Parvati, the wind from Cedric plummeting blowing her hair back from her face.

She was right; Harry was just sitting there, casual as you please.

What if something’s wrong?

“Wronski Feint,” Blaise supplied. “At least, that’s what Diggory’s attempting. But Harry knows there’s nothing down there.”

Indeed, Harry’s face was tilted towards the sky, scanning the clouds with a tense, quiet determination.

Is that really what he’s doing?

Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff, but, believe it or not, Harry and Cedric's last match-up is far from the most exciting event this Saturday. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

Chapter Nine: Red Rum, Red Hands

Oh, he’s spotted it,” said Blaise from behind her, his voice giddy with anticipation.

“Who?” asked Parvati.

There was no answer, because Harry and Cedric both seemed to dive in unison, robes snapping in the wind after what must be the Snitch near the ground, far too small to see.

“Now, the technique Potter’s using’s called a Spiral Dive—” Blaise began.

“Shhh,” said Parvati, almost dangling over the railing. “They’re so close!”

The two Seekers were neck and neck, hands outstretched, pressing themselves flatter against their brooms—

Then they both pulled up. Hard. The Snitch must have slipped away.

“Well, wasn’t that hair-raising?” called Lee, and the stadium cheered in approval. “It’s still anyone’s game, sixty to eighty, Gryffindor to Hufflepuff — but Johnson’s currently doing her best to make that score even.”

The tension in Harry’s shoulders as he rose was clear even from far away. The Gryffindor stands yelled encouragement, but he seemed indifferent, unhearing as he watched the swarming chaos of red and yellow below. Cedric looked similarly contemplative.

And then, it happened.

Cedric dove.

“Diggory spotted the Snitch!” called Lee. “With Potter in pursuit — no, where’s Potter, why’s he just sitting there? Earth to Potter!”

“Why isn’t he following?” asked Parvati, the wind from Cedric plummeting blowing her hair back from her face.

She was right; Harry was just sitting there, casual as you please.

What if something’s wrong?

“Wronski Feint,” Blaise supplied. “At least, that’s what Diggory’s attempting. But Harry knows there’s nothing down there.”

Indeed, Harry’s face was tilted towards the sky, scanning the clouds with a tense, quiet determination.

Is that really what he’s doing?

Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff, but, believe it or not, Harry and Cedric's last match-up is far from the most exciting event this Saturday. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

Chapter Ten: Parry, Feint, Castle

“What is it?” asked Harry, pushing himself up into a sitting position so he could get a better view.

Sirius let the medal slip through his fingers, the satin ribbon held between his index finger and thumb, slowly rotating in the ample light of the Hospital Wing, the ‘M’ sparkling.

“Order of Merlin,” he said. “First class.”

I knew it was something important! thought Harry triumphantly.

“Not something you drop in a junk shop,” said Sirius contemplatively. “Not something you’re really intended to wear, either. Some sort of message, maybe… a warning… or a threat…”

There's something he suspects, thought Harry, his stomach lurching uneasily, searching Sirius’s face studiously, noticing the slight clench of his jaw. Something he doesn’t want to tell us.

“What is it?” Harry breathed.

Sirius sighed heavily, his voice growing more and more bitter as he spoke. “I can’t be sure. But there’s one Death Eater who definitely owns one of these, one Death Eater for whom it is his crowning glory, his only achievement.”

All the time Sirius was speaking, it was as if something dark and heavy was settling on the Hospital Wing. Harry felt as if the light had dimmed, the room had darkened, a great shadow was leaning over them.

“I can’t be sure,” said Sirius again, frowning at the medal. ”But I think this may belong to—"

Dumbledore, T.M. Riddle, and Bill get to the bottom of the mysterious curse. Sirius visits Harry in the Hospital Wing. Tonks trains Mafalda for her new and dangerous mission — spying on Narcissa Malfoy. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

Chapter Eleven: Brewing Conflict

Beside her, Harry’s potion looked alright, but Ron, at the bench with Hermione, nervously surveyed the contents of his cauldron, which was spitting green sparks. Hermione’s was the exact purple as the textbook’s, but her hair had erupted into a halo of frizz as she bent painstakingly over her work.

Just as she reached for some stewed mandrake, Malfoy cleared his throat.

“Still planning to make good on your threat, Potter? What was it you said?” He turned around halfway with a razor-sharp smile, eying her like a shark. “You’d be watching me?”

Ruby forced herself to say nothing, even as Harry stilled beside her, pausing mid-stir for a second.

Seven times clockwise seven times clockwise seven times clockwise.

She needed to focus on the potion. Not Malfoy’s taunts, not Nott listening with his head cocked, wide-eyed with voyeuristic interest.

“Poor baby Potter,” Malfoy went on, voice lilting as if he were singing a lullaby, leaning closer. “Nearly driven mad by her visions.”

He made a grotesque face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, and eyes rolled back into his head so that all Ruby could see were the red-streaked whites. Nott hastily reached over to turn down the heat on Malfoy’s unattended cauldron, and Ruby wished there was some way she could do the same to her simmering anger.

“Shut up,” snapped Harry. “Leave her alone.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Malfoy, head tilted, all faux-concern. “Jumping at shadows?”

Nott’s shoulders shook with amusement.

Ruby and T.M. Riddle spy on Malfoy and Nott following the Snitch incident. Dumbledore supervises Harry's extra lessons. Brewing the Draught of Peace in Double Potions brings anything but relaxation. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

Chapter Twelve: Litany Against Fear

He had just risen to his feet when a cold presence entered the room. It was felt before it was seen — icy despair encasing the room — five hooded figures like great, black coffins, chilling Tee to the very bone. It was the library in London all over again. His fingers reached for his wand in an almost instinctive movement, but they were as numb and clumsy as if he had been walking through a snowstorm. His heartbeat was quick in his throat, like an animal before the butchering blow, mouth dry—

And then something soared through the air, warm and silvery, spreading light throughout the room, which had suddenly gone dark. The phoenix Patronus repelled the Dementors, sending them stumbling back in a rush to wherever they’d come from.

How? wondered Tee, shaky with relief, still trying to catch his breath, to catch up with his heart stuttering in his ribcage. The silver phoenix had perched on the table, folding its wings, refracting light like liquid opal.

“Just the beginning, I fear, Tom,” said Dumbledore, assuming a defensive position, his gaze shrewd, all the levity drained from him. “On your guard.”

Tee slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing the warm length of pine, still unsettled. The room looked a little darker than it had when they first entered, and the cherubs had that same sinister quality.

Dementors in the Ministry — where did they come from?

And he was incapable of calling forth a Patronus. Though they weren’t very interested in his shattered and torn soul, that didn’t protect him from their other effects. He was helpless against them; as helpless as a boy from a lifetime ago, curled under an iron bed as bombs shook the earth and heavens, hiding from Death.

“I think it best that we find our way to Narcissa’s office.”

Tee nodded, trying to regain his composure as Dumbledore’s attention turned from the wall that the Dementors had disappeared into to the door that they had come through; or rather, the space where it had been. He just couldn’t shake the feeling of being led into a trap as Dumbledore raised his hand to the wall, and the door slid open at the slightest touch.

When he mentioned this to Dumbledore, the latter only said with a wry smile:

“Well, Tom, then surely we must spring it.”

T.M. Riddle and Albus Dumbledore are summoned to the Ministry, where they discover a deadly trap. Mafalda starts her first day as an Auror trainee (and double agent) and encounters a familiar rival. To survive... well, they'll have to overcome fear itself. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

This art + this fic = 🔥

Finished a fanfic and still under its influence to the point I don’t want to start a new one just yet. So thought I’d practice my rusty drawing skills.

‘All our secrets laid bare’ by @firethesound

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227880

Draco’s feelings shattering on the first image while wearing Harry’s ridiculous ‘pocket shirts’ and showing off his dragon tattoo that Harry managed to tickle until it turned upside down.

Thanks for all the great fanfic recommendations to @kelpie-earnest <3

So I wrote a quick little Drarry drabble based on this post I stumbled across a few days ago. I would recommend reading it before reading this.

Summary: Soulmate AU (better described in post linked above)

Word Count: 418

Pairing: Drarry

A/N: The writing in bold was borrowed directly from J.K. Rowling’s writing originally in the books. It is not mine. I don’t think there are any warnings, but let me know if there should be!

~~

“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry didn’t take it.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said coolly.

And he knew he was wrong the moment he said it, for a burning sensation tingled down his arm to his wrist. Harry’s words rang in his ears as he felt a light crimson rise to his face.

No, I’m far too young, he thought. It can’t be real. Father didn’t feel Mum’s words until after they left Hogwarts.

But that night in his new dorm, after an evening of chattered excitement over a divine feast, he found his fear to be true. The tattooed words he had memorised for years were gone. He had found his soulmate, but not until just after losing him.

~~

“Well, Draco?” said Lucius Malfoy. He sounded avid. “Is it? Is it Harry Potter?”

“I can’t— I can’t be sure,” said Draco. He was keeping his distance from Greyback, and seemed as scared of looking at Harry as Harry was of looking at him.

Though he remained silent to prevent his identity from being revealed, Harry felt a prickle along his arm, not unlike the burning of his scar he had long grown used to. But this tingling confused him more than the pain of his scar ever had. Harry knew he had seen a glint of recognition in Draco’s eyes, before the latter had refused to hold eye contact. He had lied for Harry. And the sensation he felt along the skin beneath his torn sleeve was one that had been described to him by many, including Ron about Hermione one night at the Burrow.

The words that had been left on his arm earlier than the scar on his head, that Dudley had made fun of, saying Harry would never find the one who would utter them. He had wondered why his words were quite so plain, and if Cho or Ginny might have been the one to make them fade. But no, the one who made Harry’s tattoo fade was the one he would have guessed least likely. His worst enemy, Malfoy himself, had lied for him, and in doing so, revealed himself to be Harry’s soulmate.

That thought, to Harry, hurt more than the searing pain of his scar ever could.

~~

this is!! so cute!!

Draco: Were you dropped on your head as a kid?

Harry: Bold of you to assume I was even held.

A Cardigan and His Dumbass Boyfriend

Prompt: #49. You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out.

Summary: Remus disapproves of Sirius’ daredevil choices.

Word Count: 955

Pairing: Wolfstar

Warning(s): Swearing. Let me know if you find any more!

A/N: I didn’t mean to write this in a way that portrayed as Remus as a toxic boyfriend, but maybe someone might read it that way? It wasn’t the intention, but I won’t stop you from reading it how you like. The prompt I used can be found on this prompt list.

~~

“Padfoot! What the hell?”

Sirius looked up to see his boyfriend, Remus, racing across the grounds of the castle towards him. The snow crunched beneath his feet as his cardigan whipped around his thin body in the early March wind.

Though the winter wasn’t quite thawed, Sirius didn’t find himself all that chilly this afternoon, and the other students surrounding him seemed ignorant of it as well. The sun seemed to be forming a spotlight on Sirius as his classmates formed a circle around him. Two of his friends, Peter and James, stood closest to Sirius.

“What’s the worry for, Moony?” James laughed as Remus hurriedly approached him. “It’s not as if he’s doing anything more dangerous than he already has.”

Remus, however, couldn’t help but disagree, as he looked up to see his boyfriend zooming some ten to fifteen feet in the sky atop a muggle motorbike. Sirius caught his eye and winked.

“How do I look up here, Remus?” Sirius called out.

“Like a fucking lawsuit about to be in a full body cast from what I can tell!”

“Don’t worry, love.” Sirius continued to drive his vehicle in figure eights up in the air. “Promise I know what I’m doing. Evans made sure everything was up to code and the charms would last, for the most part.”

“For the most part?” Remus yelled, wishing the other would come down soon, preferably without crashing.

“Is it my fault if I got a little distracted?” Lily asked as she slipped her arm around James. Remus had only just noticed her attendance at the scene as she had spoken, and shot her a look as she grumbled a heathenly response.

Remus watched as Sirius tempted fate and managed to flip the motorbike in midair, revving the engine as he did so. A unanimous cheer erupted from the crowd of onlookers.

“Sirius Orion Black, get down from there immediately!”

Remus rubbed his forehead, tired of Sirius’ dumbassery that had been occurring since his family disowned him. He knew this must be Sirius’ own odd way of getting back at Regulus, but he wished he might try and be safer about his revenge at times. It was their final year at Hogwarts, and Remus didn’t need his boyfriend getting killed or expelled. And the situation with the charmed motorbike would probably result in both.

Sirius waved to his classmates below him as a rock star might to his adoring fans.

“Alright, alright, my darlings. The missus is calling me.”

He flew the motorbike down to the snow dusted ground and landed lightly on a melted patch of grass. Waving to the cheering crowd of students as they dispersed, Sirius sauntered over to a frowning Remus who had crossed his arms.

“Hello, my darling, Remus! Fancy seeing me all the way up there?”

Remus released a long breath of air before proceeding to tell Sirius off.

“Sirius, how you thought you could do a dangerous thing like that and not get me concerned is beyond me. I can’t even--”

“Woah, calm down, love. I’m alright, the bike is alright, everyone who was watching is alright. By that logic, nothing dangerous happened.” Sirius reasoned with a toss of his hair and a careless smirk.

Remus sighed, pulling his arms closer around himself as his cardigan blew around him in the wind. He hated when Sirius was like this. He knew he could have a temper at times, and he had to restrain himself in moments like these. He never wanted to come off as the abusive boyfriend type who kept Sirius on a leash. He just wanted to make sure Sirius remembered that a dog’s leash only goes so far.

Sirius sensed Remus’ changed expression, and seemed to understand what he was thinking. He knew Remus didn’t want to tell him off for fear of saying something too harsh.

“Re—”

“No, Sirius.” Remus interrupted. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have yelled. I just, I worry for you.”

“Babe, you don’t need—”

“Yes, I do.” Remus gazed down at his shoes that were becoming wet from puddles in the grass. “I worry for you because I know you’ll never need to worry for me. My ‘furry little problem’ won’t allow me to go places and do things that you and James and Peter will. And I know you’ll go all sorts of places and do all sorts of things,” Remus smiled as he continued.

“So I worry because you’re so much more adventurous and fearless than I’ll ever be able to allow myself to be. And I worry because I don’t want to end up having to clean your sorry ass off the courtyard pavement before you have a chance to go and live an interesting, though hopefully less dangerous, life.”

As Remus fell silent, Sirius reached for his boyfriend and surrounded him in a hug. A breeze had fallen over them as the afternoon turned to evening, leaving few people on the grounds, most having headed inside for the day. Sirius broke their hug after a moment to ease Remus of his worries.

“I’ll be more careful for you, Moony. I rather don’t fancy being scraped off the pavement either.”

Remus laughed before Sirius spoke again.

“I can’t make any promises though. Besides, it’s cute when you get all worked up over me.” Sirius grinned and tapped a finger to Remus’ reddening nose that he would later blame on the chilly weather, and definitely not Sirius’ charm.

“You’re a dumbass,” Remus said, shaking his sandy hair with a laugh.

“Love you too, Moony.”

The boys walked off towards Gryffindor Tower in search of two mugs of cocoa and one of the last wintery nights they’d have at Hogwarts.

~~

Requested by @thelonglostmarauder

Morning all, just an FYI I am BACK and WRITING AGAIN and very excited about it so I’ve gotta write while the motivation is there and before depression hits 😎

Inspired by The Auction (chapter 33), by @lovesbitca8 https://archiveofourown.org/works/19101535/chapters/45385237

The necklace floated over her, sprawling across her collarbones as he fit it to her neck. He closed the clasp, and she felt the metal warm to her skin. She took a deep breath and lifted her face to the mirror. It felt like an extension of herself, the emeralds and diamonds branching out across her neck like a tree taking root.

Draco pushed a loose curl back, and pressed a kiss to the spot behind her ear. She felt it ripple across her skin.

"You can do this," he whispered.

She met his eyes in the mirror. "I know."

Somehow, she did.

Source: The Auction, chapter 33 (by lovesbitca8)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19101535/chapters/62855734

Love this fic more than I can put into words (and I’ll be sad forever about it).

Thank you for everything you do, LB8. 

Is It Still Punishment if It Was Worth It? ~ George Weasley

Summary: Y/N runs into George Weasley after her detention with Umbridge (aka me finishing a request from ages ago)

Warnings: Umbridge *shudders*

Word count: 2.4k

As I left the atrocious pink office, nothing around me stirred, as if the whole castle was frozen, lying in wait for the dawn. Light streamed through the open doorway, heralding my late release from detention. 

“Off to bed, dear,” said that sugary, poisonous voice behind me. “Don’t let Mr. Filch catch you lingering instead of being safe asleep in your bed.” Was it my imagination, or did the throbbing of the back of my hand pulse in time with her voice? 

I wanted nothing more than to scurry away as fast as my legs would allow, but like any predatory animal, Professor Umbridge could smell fear, so I simply bowed my head as demurely as possible, avoiding her deep-set gaze. “Yes, professor.” I could feel the horrid woman’s toad eyes following me as I walked down the wide staircase, heading for the dungeons. 

The door closed behind me with an ominous thud, and the light disappeared. 

Stopping in my tracks, I immediately turned the corner to a little alcove, slumping next to the window. I stared at the colored glass, depicting a dragon breathing flames up into the sky. My wound gave a particularly violent throb. “Ouch,” I hissed under my breath, staring down at the shiny red letters.

I must obey the rules.

Cradling my aching hand to my chest, I let out a long breath. Every pang seemed to ring through my whole body, and yet, instead of acting as a deterrent, I was all the more resolved in my actions. If Umbridge had forced my brother to write those words and endure this pain, even her title as High Inquisitor would not have saved her from my wrath. 

“Well, that’s a first.”

I jolted. At first, I wondered if it’d been the dragon that spoke—often things at Hogwarts spoke when one might think they shouldn’t. But the dragon didn’t move. I looked around me, just in time to see the tapestry further down the stairs shift, and a red-headed boy came out from behind it.

George Weasley. Certified troublemaker with an un-shuttable gob and downright homemade values, the very personification of Godric Gryffindor’s ideal student. 

“Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

George gestured to my hand. “I didn’t know she punished Slytherins too.” He spoke the word without distaste, but with an emphasis all the same.

I just shook my head and left my alcove, heading for the Slytherin common room. There was no point in arguing in Slytherin’s favor; the history in this castle chronicled many a Slytherin who tried and subsequently had to run for the Hospital Wing before a toenail-growing hex grew too painful to walk.

Unfortunately, the redhead sidled into my path. I took several steps back, checking for the location of his wand, prepared to whip out my own before he could cast anything. But his hands were empty, and judging by the way he watched me, his head was regrettably anything but.

“You’re in my way,” I said calmly.

“Malfoy shouldn’t have done that.”

The simple statement made my lungs falter for breath, but I kept my face impassive. “He didn’t have a choice.”

“No, he had a choice.” George’s maddeningly certain tone set my teeth on edge.

I scoffed, walking down the staircase. “You don’t understand, you couldn’t possibly understand what he faces.”

“Oh, yes,” George’s voice grew louder and mocking, following me on my heels, “poor little rich Malfoy, head of the Inquisitor Squad, can’t handle–”

“Sod off.” My gritted teeth added all the threat I wanted, but George wasn’t deterred.

“What a slog it is, having everything one could possibly–”

I whirled around, my hands finding George’s chest to shove him as hard as I could. “You don’t know what it’s like!” I hissed, glaring at him. “You and your brothers just do whatever you fancy at the moment, whatever wicked thing halfway crosses your mind. Well, not all of us have the luxury of doing what we want.”

George looked as serious as I’d ever seen him. “He could’ve spared you this and he didn’t. No true friend would scurry off to Umbridge to report you like that.”

For a moment, I considered starting a row, but Umbridge’s office was still within earshot, and I didn’t want another round of writing with that cursed quill. So I chose not to acknowledge him, walking down the stairs with my head held high, reaching the bottom of the stairs and quickly walking down the corridor, hoping my feet could outrun George’s mouth. But when I looked to my right, there was George, loping alongside me.

“Seriously–”

“Seriously, George, shut it.” I came to a stop, glaring up at him. “What are you even doing here? It’s past curfew.”

“Some of us are taking turns behind the tapestry,” he said easily. “Watching in case any first or second years get turned out of Umbridge’s office with bleeding hands.”

“Oh?” I tossed my head, moving my hair to one side. “And if it were a Slytherin first year, would you have greeted them the way you greeted me?” If my kid brother had been the one walking out of the office, I silently asked, would you have comforted him? 

“Perhaps, but I’m willing to bet that they, unlike you, would accept a hug and a trip to the kitchens for some dessert afterwards.”

My stomach rumbled, and I placed my uninjured hand over it. “Well, I’m no first year, so you can go.” I resumed my furious pace.

George easily kept up. “It wasn’t fair of Malfoy to do that.”

Was it impossible for him to leave well enough alone? “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

“Everyone knows you were just protecting your brother.”

I seized the collar of George’s robes, dragging his face down an inch from mine. “Don’t you dare–

“I’m not going to tell,” George said, remarkably calm considering how quickly his position had changed. 

“How am I supposed to trust that?”

“I’m not Malfoy.” 

I considered him for another moment before letting him go. He straightened, smoothing out his robes. “How did you know?” I asked. 

George gave a short laugh. “You’ve never touched a broomstick outside of Flying class, and yet I’m supposed to believe you even have a broomstick to bring into the castle?” He shook his head. “Anyone with eyes knows you’d do anything for your brother, so of course Umbridge is the only one daft enough to fall for your switcheroo.” 

I pondered his words for a moment before turning to walk back to my room. Like before, George kept time beside me. “She shouldn’t have given detention just for having a broomstick.” 

I shook my head. “There are rules.”

“And rules were made to–”

“–be broken?” I rolled my eyes. “Of course. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a Gryffindor.”

“Says the Slytherin who just got out of detention.” I bit my tongue, trying to stay silent. “You should tell your head of house what Umbridge’s doing, maybe Snape’ll do something about–”

I let out a short laugh. “See, there’s the difference between you and me, George–”

George leapt forward, covering my mouth. Next thing I knew, I was being tugged behind a statue, finally pulled to meet George’s alarmed expression.

This was it. I should’ve known better than to trust a Gryffindor. Now he was going to hex me or curse me or even forgo a wand altogether and use his own two fists. 

Eyes wide, I tried to shove him away, protesting loudly from behind his hand. “Shush!” George said harshly. “Filch!”

I instantly stopped fighting, my heart pounding for a different reason. If George and I were caught by Filch right now, not only would I have another detention with Umbridge, but word would get out. I couldn’t even imagine the trouble I’d be in with my house if they found out I was out at night past curfew with a Gryffindor, and a Weasley at that!

The light of the lantern the caretaker always carried with him after hours grew closer and closer to the statue we crouched behind. George lifted his hand from my mouth, pressing a finger to his lips. I rolled my eyes. As if I didn’t already get the memo. 

“Anyone about, my dear?” Filch’s haughty voice asked. Mrs. Norris meowed back, and I heard the sound of a dark chuckle. "Professor Umbridge might allow us to try our new manacles.”

George and I met eyes. 

He made a stop gesture and then started to creep forward towards Filch. What could he possibly be planning? Filch would see him! 

Then it occurred to me. The noble idiot was about to sacrifice himself so that I would stay undetected. 

Oh no you don’t, I thought, seizing the back of George’s robes, dragging him back. I was not about to owe a Gryffindor anything. I pulled out my wand and a tissue I'd forgotten was there.

Snufflifors, I mouthed. 

The tissue morphed into a white mouse, which immediately scampered down the corridor. Immediately, Mrs. Norris sped after it. 

“My dear!” Filch protested, running after her, the light from his lantern growing farther and farther away until George and I were left alone in the dark. 

“Wow,” George stared in the direction Filch had gone, “that was quite impressive.”

The compliment made my cheeks warm. “Well, some of us jump into things without thinking about the consequences and some of us actually use our brains for more than pranks.” I shoved my wand into my pocket, about to storm down the corridor. 

“So you thought it through beforehand?”

“I didn’t necessarily plan to get caught by–”

“No, you thought through taking the blame for your brother?” 

I stopped short, allowing George to catch up with me. I eyed him warily. Was he fishing for evidence to get my brother in trouble? Or was he fishing for other reasons?  “Of course I did,” I said finally, deciding that my word against George’s was hardly any competition. 

A strange look twinkled in his eyes at that. “You actually thought about getting in trouble?” I didn’t reply. I should’ve known that I wouldn’t need to, because George could easily carry a conversation by himself. “You knew you could lose house points? And Hogsmeade could become off-limits to you? And that you might end up with words scratched into the back of your hand?” 

My silence was the only answer. Truthfully, he was right. I’d thought through all those possibilities. 

I’d earned Slytherin enough points throughout the years that any deduction wouldn’t damage my reputation too badly for anyone not in the Inquisitor Squad, especially under Umbridge’s reign. As for Hogsmeade, the castle itself was large enough to keep me from feeling claustrophobic. And, yes, I even budgeted for the possibility of getting detention with Umbridge; that’s why there was a Soothing potion waiting for me in my room. 

What I hadn’t anticipated was Malfoy being the one to report me. 

So much for being friends. 

George shuffled closer, bringing me to the present with his brown eyes. “You thought through the possibilities, and you still did it?” I nodded, and a grin broke out on his face. “Are you sure you aren’t supposed to be in Gryffindor?”

I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat. “How dare you,” I said blandly. 

“I’m serious,” he said with a smile that said the opposite. “You’re quite the little risk-taker.” 

“Is it really risk-taking,” I murmured, “if you’re prepared for all the risks?” 

The inner corners of George’s eyebrows turned upward, his smile dimming to a more serious affect. “Was it worth it even though you got caught and punished?” 

“Is it still punishment if it was worth it?” 

His freckled face relaxed at the question, smoothing out until it was without pucker or twinge. “Should there be a rule against it if it’s still worth it?” he murmured.

I brought out my hand, looking down on it so I could once again read the message waiting there. The shiny letters didn’t hold any answers within their crimson hue. “I’m not sure.”

A hand reached out to touch mine, and my breath caught when I saw, on the back of George’s hand, familiar words, written in narrower handwriting.

I must obey the rules.

“Funny,” George said softly. “Regardless of what happened beforehand, we ended up the same.”

I slowly dragged my eyes up to meet his. “Not quite.” I smiled sadly. “I’m apparently friendless.” 

“Not friendless,” George murmured like a promise. “Not if you don’t want to be.”

I studied him, searching for any sign of deception. His locks had darkened over the years. In our first year, they could only be described as flaming, his hair as dangerous as his tendencies, but now they’d tempered into a comforting copper hue. His freckles also faded, though there were still just as many of them. His eyebrows normally promised even more trouble than his mischievous eyes, but now, nothing in his face seemed disingenuous. “Can Slytherins and Gryffindors even be friends?” I asked.

“Is it risk-taking if you’re prepared for all the risks?” George echoed.

I gave a short laugh. “Touchè.”

“Besides,” George said with a smirk, “you could do with friends better than that old tosser.”

I wanted to laugh, truly I did. Or perhaps I wanted to care little enough to be able to laugh. But alas, I cared too much, so I simply shook it off. “I’d better go, before Filch actually finds us.” 

“Fair enough.” George dropped my hand, and I missed the warmth immediately. “See you around, Y/N?”

I took great care to lessen my smile into a smirk. “If you’re lucky,” I replied.

George gave a relaxed salute before walking back the way we’d come, presumably to take up his place behind the tapestry.

I watched him go. Funny, I may not have been a first year, and he may not have taken me to the kitchens for dessert, and yet…I was glad for anyone else who might leave Umbridge’s office when George waited for them behind the tapestry.

-

Read the continuation here!

If you enjoyed this, you might also enjoy my other George fanfic: Seven Years of Bad Luck

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers