Scar

Ivar the Boneless’s Woman: Hufflepuff.

She initially started pining after him seeing the brothers buying sweets on the train to Hogwarts.

She claimed she could make better sweets for the brothers.

She just so happens to be a baker during her time away from Hogwarts.

They flirt and joke around about how bitter the treats are while Ivar’s eyes loiter on her a second too long, and she’s fucked.

She tries everything she can not to think of Ivar because he loves the Dark Arts.

Her friends think he’s creepy.

Her mother is concerned that he is a Ragnarsson.

But she doesn’t care.

She wants the boy and can’t think of anyone else.

“Ivar, Ivar she’s looking at you again.” Ivar heard Ubbe say. He knew who they were talking about. The little Hufflepuff girl that kept her distance, watching him all the time. No, she never said anything, but the way she smiled? It destroyed him. He looks up again, expecting you to giggle and whisper into your best friend’s ear like you always did. He sat on the stone ledge under a blossoming tree outside with his crutch in his lap when you turned on your heel.

Directly towards him. Definitely towards him. Hvitserk whistled as you passed him, flicking up your skirt only a little with his wand. Everyone knew Hvitserk to be inappropriate, so it didn’t surprise you when a teacher howled after him.

“Ivar.” You came to stop in front of him, reaching in your dark book bag to pull out a little bag. Ubbe reclines back next to them as you pull out what looks like– cookies?

“They’re lemon cookies!” You sat, setting them on his books of dark arts. He raises his hand to open them, staring down at the cute bees and green grass– even a snake.

“You made these?” He suggests.

“All for you. Like I said I could, remember?” You lean in, kissing him on the forehead and bound off. As you flit away with your other Hufflepuff friends, Ubbe holds out a hand. The only one of his brothers to get a precious cookie, because Ivar snarfed the rest.