Summary: Fred Weasley x slytherin!reader -> A rivalry that has been going on for four years suddenly begins to change when you help Fred's little sister.
Disclaimer: Mentions of periods and womanhood. Rivals to friends to lovers, little bit of pining, Arthur loving muggles, jealousy, 'she's not you' trope, oblivious idiots.
It had all started when the youngest Weasley started school.
You were in your fourth year at the time, along with Fred and George – the Twin set of Weasley’s that caused more trouble for McGonnagall since the Marauders. And, even if you hadn’t been in their opposing House, you had a strong feeling your relationship with them would have been the same.
Pure annoyance turned to loathing.
Mostly the loathing was left for the eldest of the two. Fred Weasley. He’d been the bane of your existence since First year. He was disruptive, rude, loud and just plain annoying.
Though you couldn’t say the same for their youngest and only sister, Ginny.
“Stop!” You shouted to the three girls running through the hallways when they should have been inside their study groups at the library.
The three girls stopped and turned around quickly as you approached. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to run through the hallways-”
“But, you don’t understand-”
“Besides you should be in study groups-”
“It’s our friend!” One of them shouted.
Only then did you notice their rather panicked expressions as they looked between each other. From your judgements, one had been told not to say anything, the other didn’t want to hurt either friend and the other spoke up.
“What is it?”
The third one, a brown haired girl, knocked her lightly. “Shush. Ginny said not to tell.”
“But she might be able to help,” the blonde haired girl whispered.
From their house colours and the name Ginny, you knew exactly who they were talking about.
“What’s going on?” You asked.
“Sarah, don’t.”
Sarah looked between her friends before looking back at you. Then she gave in. “Ginny’s in the girl’s bathroom, crying. She said to go and get her brothers.”
“Why is she crying?”
She might have been a Weasley, but she’d never once acted out like her brothers. And you, too, had once been the first year crying in the bathroom.
“She’s…she’s started.”
You looked between the three girls.
“Started?”
They all nodded.
“Alright. Her brother’s won’t be much help with this.”
“But-”
You nodded. “Still go and get them. Fred and George should be inside the Great Hall. You,” you pointed to the quiet girl at the end. “Come with me. We’re gonna help Ginny.”
Five minutes later, you were inside the girl’s bathroom. You could hear the shaky sniffles of Ginny from the end cubicle.
“Guard the door. Wait for your friends.”
The young girl nodded, taking her role very seriously as she waited for her friends and Ginny’s brothers.
You knocked twice. “Ginny?”
“I-I…yes?”
“It’s Y/n,” you told her, your voice calm and soft. “I found your friends in the hallway.”
“I said not to tell anybody!”
“Don’t blame them,” you told her. “Blame me. I forced it out of them.”
“Where are my brothers?”
“They’re on their way, don’t worry. I figured you might want to talk to a girl first. We tend to know more about these things than boys do.”
You heard Ginny sniffle again. “I-I just felt it and I didn’t know what to do. My mum said it wouldn’t happen for another two years.”
“Well, sometimes these things don’t exactly go to plan. But it’s nothing to be scared of. It just means that for one week every month or so, you’re just able to eat as much ice cream as you want and can spend the entire weekend in bed.”
“Y-Yeah. My mum said…she said something about that.” The young girl sniffed again. “But…I don’t know what to do. It’s…I think it’s stained…”
You shook your head. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll wash right out. Do you have any pads?”
Ginny shook her head behind the door. “N-no.”
“No bother,” you said before pulling out your wand and laying your bag on the floor. “Accio.”
From the depths of your bag, a square tin came flying up. Catching it before it clattered onto the ground, you opened it up before passing her a pad under the door.
“It’s pretty easy to understand. Just open, peel and stick.” You explained just before you heard thundering footsteps.
“Ginny?!”
“Let him in, Orla,” you called out to the young girl by the door.
Rounding the corner, you saw Fred Weasley standing at the end of the cubicle hallway. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping. Give me your robes.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
Pulling the long black robes from his body, revealing exactly what you expected to find – a messy uniform – you called back to Ginny.
“Ginny, your brother is here. I’m gonna hand you his robes. Just wrap them around yourself when you’re ready to come out.”
“What’s going on? The kids froze when I asked.”
“She’s started her period,” you whispered to him. “She’s a little scared, and probably in pain. Take this,” you said as you handed him your emergency period kit. “There are extra pads in there. If she starts in pain, send one of the girls to Madam Pomfry. She’ll get her some pain medication. And, if it gets really bad, a hot water bottle always helps with the cramps.”
“What?”
You sighed, “Fred, honestly. It’s natural. She’s earlier than she expected, but she’s going to be perfectly fine. You don’t need to do much besides be there for her if she wants you.”
“No, I know that. But…you helped her?”
You nodded. “You’ll be surprised to learn that girls help each other when it comes to these things, no matter the rivalries they have with their older siblings.”
Fred stood in shock as you packed up your things. “Ginny, I’m gonna leave you with your brother, but if you have any questions…feel free to come and find me.”
“O-okay. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Bidding Fred a silent goodbye, you took your leave and headed back towards the Great Hall, passing a slightly panicked George on the way.
“Down the hall and to the left. Fred is already there. Ginny is fine, just don’t make a loud fuss.”
George nodded. “Okay. Okay. Thank you.”
Even though you’d told Ginny to come and find you if she had any questions, you hadn’t actually expected her to. Quite frankly, you thought after you left, Fred might have scolded her into accepting your help, telling her you’re nothing more than a Parseltongue Slytherin.
Surprisingly, he didn’t. Or, maybe he did, but Ginny decided to make her own judgement.
You were walking out of your dormitory when you heard the end of Draco saying, “...filthy Weasley.”
“Draco!” You shouted as you spotted him standing at the door. “Find something more useful to do with your time before I send your mother a letter about your behaviour. No doubt she’ll send you back a howler.”
Draco turned pale and stalked away with his friends as you turned towards the door to find, “Ginny!”
“I-I’m sorry. I just…I’m sorry.”
She took off running in the opposite direction.
“Wait!” You called after her, leaving the Slytherin door to close itself. “Ginny, wait.”
Eventually, she stopped and turned around to face you. “I-”
But where maybe she had expected you to be mad at her, you just smiled warmly. “How about we go for a walk?”
Ginny nodded, falling into step beside you as you took her on the quieter walk through the school and towards the benches outside the courtyard. She asked you a million different questions, and you explained everything to the best of your ability.
How periods were different for everyone, pain could be small or it could be too much to handle. You explained the biology behind it and why sometimes she might feel angry for no reason, or sad for no reason. You also told her how it’s not something she should be embarrassed about, and if she ever is in need of some help, any girl in the bathroom will help…apart from Moaning Myrtle. Mostly because she’s a ghost and can’t do much.
“I asked Fred and George but they just…went quiet.”
“That’s a first.”
Ginny chuckled. “They’re not so bad. I mean…they tried. How come you know all about this stuff? There isn’t exactly a muggle biology class.”
“You’re right, there’s not. But, I went to a muggle school.”
“You’re a half-blood?”
You nodded. “My mum was in Ravenclaw when she was at school. Taught me everything I know.”
“Even about…this stuff?”
You nodded. “Not because she was a Ravenclaw, but because there was a chance she’d have a muggle daughter. If I wasn’t at Hogwarts, I’d be at an ordinary high school where they teach about it a little more than they do here.”
“Really?”
You nodded. “But just because you know, doesn’t mean you’re not scared. I got mine in my first year, too. But I didn’t have any friends or brothers to help me.”
“So what did you do?”
“Cried.” You answered honestly. “But once I stopped long enough to breathe, I started thinking resourcefully. If I was at muggle school, I’d be in the same predicament. It was no different here than there.”
Ginny nodded, listening to your every word.
“You’ll find it gets a little tedious eventually. But, you’ll also find it has its own superpowers. Like shutting your brothers up if they’re being far too annoying for you to put up with.”
Ginny giggled and looked out to the empty courtyard. “Thank you, Y/n. It’s nice to have a girl to talk to about this stuff. I have mum but I don’t exactly have sisters.”
You smiled. “If you ever need any help, just come and get me. Don’t be afraid, Ginny. And if Draco starts, just tell him to piss off. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s more scared of his own shadow.”
Ginny laughed again before spotting her friends. She thanked you once more before running back to her friends, but not before she turned around and surprisingly hugged you, tight.
“Bye.”
Joining her friends, you sat back for a moment, taking in the quiet and the fact that Ginny had hugged you. You’d always wondered what it would have been like to have younger siblings to help. Was this the feeling? The…happiness?
But it didn’t last long, because barely thirty seconds later, Fred Weasley was jumping over the back of the bench and sitting beside you.
“Did I just see my sister hug you?”
You turned and looked at him. “What do you want, Weasley?”
“Whoa, hey, hold the hostility for a second. I just wanted to thank you. For helping Ginny yesterday. Like you said, we might have a rivalry of sorts, but…she’s my little sister and you helped her. So…thank you.”
You were slightly taken aback. In the four years you’d known Fred Weasley, not once had your words with him been calm ones. Let alone nice ones.
“Oh. Well…you’re welcome…I guess.”
“And not to sound like some ‘bone headed, misogynistic ass’ but…you should smile more.” Fred smiled. “Smiling suits you more than scowling. Have a nice day.”
For the first time, you’d heard real sincerity in Fred’s voice when he talked to you. And, quite frankly, you didn’t know how to react beyond stunned silence and the overthinking of, “What the hell does that mean?”.
Over the course of the year, more and more of those moments started happening between yourself and Fred Weasley.
First it was with Ginny, then it was with Snape’s potion class and essay; a Slytherin boy had accused him of cheating. But Fred had been stationed at your table the entire time. He hadn’t cheated once. He was…just really good at potions.
Then came the real change.
Throughout the year, more and more first and second years came to you for help. They wanted to actually know what was happening to them. So, after the tenth girl came up to you, you’d asked if you could hold a small talk for the girls after classes.
McGonnagall and Madam Pomfry agreed, even making some different and up-to-date pamphlets on the situation. But, the longer the talks were held, you found a few boys lingering outside the classroom.
At first, you and some of the other older years figured it was so they could snigger and mock the girls. That was, until one afternoon during set-up, you found Fred Weasley sat on one of the rows.
“What are you doing in here?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond, already feeling tired. “Look, if you’re here to take the piss-”
Fred stood, walking over to you. “I’m not here for that. I wanted to talk to you. About it.”
“About it?”
“This,” Fred gestured. “And about some of the boys. Look, I understand why this is for girls, but I was more in the dark than Ginny was when she started. And I know a lot of the guys in this school have younger sisters or even nieces. They wanna learn, too. They want to know how they can help. It’s not like we’re born with this information, and because we don’t have them, we’re not told about them. I think…I think that should change.”
You were shocked at Fred’s sentiment. But, deep down, you agreed with it.
“One boy takes the piss and-”
Fred smiled. “I’ll chuck him out, myself. You have my word.”
Your eyes narrowed at him as he held his hand over his heart, though there was no true malice in your glare. “That seems to be true the longer I know you, Weasley.”
“Told you,” Fred smiled. “I’m not all loud and reckless.”
“No, I guess not.” Your voice came out a little distant, as if your mind was making a decision far away from the situation. Then, rather abruptly, you said, “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I misjudged you. I still think you’re reckless…and have a tendency to be loud. But…you’re a good guy, Weasley. Even if you do still get on my nerves every now and again.”
The corners of Fred’s mouth turned up slightly as his own gaze flicked across your face. “Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want everything to change between us.”
Ignoring the new change of energy between yourselves, you turned away and started laying out leaflets and pamphlets on the chairs, handing Fred half of your pile.
“Since you’re here, you might as well help.”
Over the week, more guys turned up to the talks. And Fred was true to his word. A third year boy found the entire thing too hilarious, pointing and snickering at the first year girls in the front row.
So, from the back of his collar, Fred, along with George, hoisted the boy from his chair and set him outside the classroom.
By the end of the week, and the final talk, Fred was pulled out early by McGonnagall. Though you didn’t know why, part of you felt…sad? Lost?
For a guy that had annoyed the hell out of you for four years, you were starting to feel something about not having him by your side or at least in your line of vision.
“Is everything okay?” You asked him, relieved to see him when he waltzed inside as you were stacking the chairs back.
But he just smiled and held out a letter. “It’s for you.”
“Why are you collecting my mail? You know in the muggle world, it’s illegal to open someone’s mail.”
“It’s illegal here, too.” Fred said. “But it came with my letters from home. And I haven’t opened it.”
“Who’s it from?”
“How would I know? I haven’t opened it.”
Turning it over and opening the wax seal, you unfolded the letter to find Mrs Weasley had written to you. First thanking you for taking care of her daughter, next for teaching her sons and then a final thank you for teaching other kids, too.
“How does she know?”
Fred shrugged. “Maybe Ginny told her or…” He struggled to find a new lie.
You watched Fred for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, my god.”
“What?”
You smiled, almost beaming. “You wrote to your mother about me?”
Fred flushed red. “W-what? No.” He tried to laugh it off, but you saw right through him.
“You wrote to your mother about me.”
“No, I-I didn’t.”
“Whatever you say, Weasley.”
Fred chuckled. “Alright, Y/l/n. No need to be so smug.”
You smiled down at the letter addressed from Molly Weasley. “Nobody’s ever written to their mother about me before. Bad or good.”
Fred felt something warm in his heart. He was proud to be the first.
“I think they’re still serving tea in the Great Hall,” Fred mentioned casually but quietly. “Want to get some?”
For the first time since knowing him, you didn’t have to overthink your answer.
“Sure. Love to.”
That night, a small part of your history…or maybe your future…changed. Fred Weasley not only became your friend, but he also became something more. Something that didn’t exactly have a label. Well, not yet at least. But it was there. The…feeling.
“You sure you’re okay?”
If a year ago, somebody had told you you’d be studying with Fred Weasley, for your OWLs, in the Gryffindor common room, you’d have said they were mad. Insane, even.
But it was true.
A year on from what turned out to be the Diary from Hell for Ginny and other not so dramatic but equally life-changing things, it was true.
You nodded, “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Fred asked you again. “You look like somebody kicked you under the table in Potions today.”
“Felt like it,” you mumbled, trying to concentrate on your coursework.
You didn’t say much after that, but you did grow concerned a little when Fred stood up, also without a word. If he did something, he usually spoke about it first.
And he disappeared for seven whole minutes. Thankfully, a lot of the Gryffindors were used to finding you in their common room, knowing Fred wasn’t too far away. So if any came in, they wouldn’t question your presence.
“Here.”
Fred returned, suddenly, holding out a hot water bottle.
“It might help.”
With a relieved smile, you thanked him.
“Better?” He asked as he sat down.
“Much. Thank you.”
“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfry. They’re getting worse.”
“I’m fine, Fred. Really.”
Fred just nodded, turning back to his own coursework. But when you gave up on trying to focus on your work, laying on the sofa behind Fred, you sighed.
“Can you tell what this says?”
Picking the piece of parchment from Fred’s hands, you recognised the writing right away. “Fred, this is your handwriting.”
“I know. Can you tell what it says?”
“How can you not know what you’ve written?”
“Please?”
You read it aloud. “Due to the increasing level of pain being experienced, I suggest the best course of action…Fred. I’m not going to Madam Pomfry.”
“It was worth a try. Just…promise me, if it gets worse, you’ll go. Or else I’ll drag you there myself.”
You laid a hand on his shoulder. “I promise.”
As the years went on, the friendship and whatever the unspoken thing was between both of you only seemed to grow until eventually you found yourself in a similar position, lay on one of the patchwork sofas in The Burrow.
“Fred, you really need to get neater with your handwriting,” you said as you turned the page upside down for the third time. “Even I can’t tell what this says.”
“Well…it’s not my fault.”
You gave him a deadpan look. “We all went to the same school. Even George’s handwriting is neater than this. I swear, you need to make up your own spell to figure out what this says.”
From the kitchen, Ginny stood beside her brother. “How long have they been like this?”
“Arguing? Years.” George answered. “Lay that close together? Hours.”
“Do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”
“Fred’s handwriting? If Y/n can’t figure it out, nobody can.”
Ginny sighed, hitting her brother. “Not that. The other thing?”
“That they’re hopelessly and forever bound together in the spell of unspoken love?” George asked as Ginny nodded. “No, not yet.”
Ginny groaned before moving on and heading up the stairs.
“For a guy that is running his own business, you should be able to read your own handwriting.”
Fred shrugged. “For someone that is able to run rings around some of the top lawyers in the Ministry, so should you.”
“Mum says ‘hi’ by the way,” you mentioned to Fred. “She says the papers for your new product should be ready for you to sign on Monday.”
“What time are you heading into the office?”
“Nine.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Meet you outside of the shop at 8? I need to pick up an order at Flourish and Blotts.”
Fred nodded. “Great. We can grab breakfast if you’d like?”
“Yes,” you said. “But I’m picking the place this time. There’s somewhere I’d like to show you.”
“It’s not gonna be filled with stuffy, uptight lawyers is it?”
You chuckled. “No. Just stuffy, uptight muggle public.”
“Muggles?” Arthur popped his head around the corner. “Bloody love Muggles. All their inventions. A multi-coloured pen. Sensational.”
You smiled before turning to Fred who had the same expression on his face.
Since the very first time you’d met Arthur Weasley, he’d been enamoured with the information you held about Muggles. Apparently he’d met your father once, when he surprised your mother at the Ministry for their Anniversary.
“Fantastic chap,” Arthur had told you.
“Here,” you chuckled as you handed Fred his paper back. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
His eyes trailing after you and a light smile spread across his lips, your eyes locked with Fred’s as you climbed the stairs towards the bathroom. Only once you were out of earshot did George lean over the sofa and hit Fred on the back of the head.
“Oi,” he whispered. “When are you gonna tell her?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you want to marry her and have children with her and live out that fantasy dream of your own Burrow home with her.”
“Bugger off.”
“I’m being serious,” George whispered. “Besides, you’d make a great girl dad.”
“George. If she comes down here, she’s gonna freak out and start physically running back home.”
George just smiled. “That’s what you think. I think she’d run into you arms and-”
“She’s not that kind of girl.”
“Please, every girl is that girl.”
“Y/n’s different.”
“She loves you. And, you, my dear brother, love her, too.”
“George.”
“I don’t hear you denying it,” George sang as he walked away, just in time for you to come back down the stairs, fixing the clasp on the dungarees with random patchwork squares.
Playing Quidditch in the summer with the rest of the Weasley clan one year had resulted in lots of laughter and randomly torn holes in the dungarees you were wearing.
Now, they were patched back together with random pieces of fabric that, even when washed, still somehow smelled of the comforting scent of the Burrow on a fresh summer’s afternoon.
“Denying what?”
“Oh, just that Freddie here-”
“George.”
“Needs to go back to school. Fix that handwriting of his.”
By the time Monday rolled around, you were dragging Fred down a busy London street towards your favourite cafe. Despite it being one of London’s busiest times in the morning, the cafe was practically empty compared to those on Westminster Bridge.
“What can I get for you, dears?”
Placing in a double of your usual order, you left Fred to his own devices. Only, when you returned to him, handing over his to-go bag and tea, you found a woman standing in front of him.
She was flirting with him.
“Here you go,” you told Fred as you gave the stranger a rather withering look.
She smiled, perkily. “Hi, I was just saying to your friend here that he looked a little lost. I’d be more than happy to give him a small tour if you’re in a rush.”
“No,” you answered. “Not in a rush. And he’s not lost. He’s with me.”
“Oh,” she looked between both of you before asking, “Really? I’m sure you’re a nice person but…really? Wow.”
“Okay, we’re leaving.”
Taking Fred’s hand in yours, you practically dragged him out of the cafe. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing.”
“She was just trying to be nice.”
“She was flirting.”
“No, she-” Fred turned and looked at you. He knew the woman was flirting with him, she’d asked for his number. But Fred couldn’t think why you’d reacted so harshly. Until he looked at you, and it hit him.
“Oh, my god,” he chuckled. “You’re jealous.”
Your brows furrowed quickly. “I’m not jealous.”
Fred couldn’t help but laugh a little more. “You are insanely jealous. I already told her I don’t have a phone.”
“She asked for your number?!”
Fred smiled as you turned and looked at him, almost as if someone had tried to brand your heart.
“You-” You cleared your throat, trying to act normal. “Not that I care.”
As the street grew quiet and the red post box came into sight, Fred pulled you aside. “Hey, there’s no need to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
Fred just smiled. “I wouldn’t have said yes. Other than the fact that I thought she was rude, especially to you. She wasn’t…”
“She wasn’t what?”
Swallowing his pride, Fred finally spoke his truth. “She wasn’t you.”
It took a moment for you to register what Fred was actually saying. “Oh. Oh.”
Fred nodded.
“Well…I…”
“Look, you don’t have to answer it now. Or…ever. You’re my closest friend, and I don’t ever want that to change, and if this does so. Especially if it does so for the worst…I’d rather be by your side just the way we are. You know, if you didn’t…if you don’t…”
“I do.” The words fell out quicker than a golden snitch could fly. “I do. I just…wasn’t expecting it to happen on a pavement in London before…before our meeting.”
Fred felt himself smile. He hadn’t scared you off, so he was off to a good start.
“Can…can we talk about it after work?”
Fred nodded. He’d waited nearly five years. He could wait a few more hours.
“Of course.”
“Okay then.” For a moment, you continued walking with Fred walking behind you. But then you stopped and turned back. “Are you sure? About…about me?”
Fred nodded. “My feelings haven’t changed since fifth year. I doubt they’re gonna change now.”
“Okay.” You sounded a little more confident the second time, even though he could still hear your brain trying to process the whole thing. “Okay, then.”
“This really is a good cup of tea.”
“Told you.”
You could be normal for a couple of hours, acting like you usually did with Fred. Just before lunch, he had to head back to the shop and you kept working through some of the upcoming cases. Though, despite the boring case work, you couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from your face.
Fred felt the same.
And it was just a matter of time before that unspoken feeling you’d held for him for years, finally would have a name.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
When you and Draco get into some small argument, Narcissa decides to knock some sense into her son. What? Did you really think she'd take anyone's side but yours?
CW! small couple fight, coarse language, Draco overcomes ego. Let me know if I missed anything!
This is a short one, but I love any fics with great Narcissa-reader relationships.
Masterlist
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
Narcissa Malfoy loves routines.
She loves pre-set tea-times and punctual gatherings. She loves the certainty it brings to such an uncertain existence. And she simply does not care if the snobbish pureblood ladies call her a rigid scheming bitch for it.
It’s just who she is.
So forgive her for the overwhelming concern that collects in her neck when you don’t show up that weekend. It’s practically a ritual–ever since you started dating Draco. Saturdays mean a day full of shopping and a luxurious evening dinner. Over the years, as you developed from the nervous girl Draco brought home, to his confident fiancée, she’d grown attached to it. In her mind so had you.
It must be serious if you missed it.
So, she storms into her son’s study, voice low as she says, “What did you do?”
“Mother,” Draco startles. But Narcissa is unfazed, her arms crossing over her chest.
“Why isn’t she here yet?”
He remains silent for a long moment. Then he sighs, long and full of suffering. Sounds like an argument. Narcissa is unsure whether to feel bad for her poor son, or hex him for fighting with you.
“We got into a small…disagreement,” Draco says finally. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes averting to his desk.
“A disagreement about what?”
“It’s very petty. I don’t know why she’s gotten into such a toss about it.”
“Now, Draco.” Narcissa loves her son very much. She would die for him, it’s common knowledge. But there are some things she considers unacceptable. Which is disrespecting women, you especially.
“Have I taught you nothing?”
Draco sighs again. Narcissa softens a little. She gently rubs his shoulder, “What happened?”
“I forgot to say ‘I love you’ before leaving the apartment last Friday.”
Narcissa barely stifles a gasp. Draco casts her a look, before sinking into a wing chair.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy.”
“Mother.”
“You better go apologize to the girl right now.”
“What? It wasn’t that ser-”
“I don’t want any of that ego, Draco.” Her tone rarely hardens around him. He scowls, but it falls flat immediately. Narcissa knows this must be hard on him. For all that pride he’s inherited, there’s only so long he can stay away from you. Only so long until his steel and porcelain crack.
She sighs this time, settling beside him.
“Verbal acknowledgements of love are very gratifying, Draco.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t take long to say three words.”
“I know.”
“And it’s obvious to anyone with…any senses, truly, that you love her.”
“I-I do.”
“And I want my best friend back.”
Draco finally meets his mother’s gaze. She sees the baffling combination of emotions ravaging through his head. She reaches over to smooth the hair on his forehead. He leans into the age-old comfort, nodding slowly.
“I’ll go talk to her.”
A beat of silence.
Then he jumps up to his feet, pulling his coat off his hanger, “I’ll go right now.”
Narcissa can’t help but smile. He can’t stay away from you for long, but sometimes, everyone needs a little guiding nudge.
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
The last thing you expected to see when you opened the door was a very rain soaked Draco Malfoy.
His platinum hair drips all over the fancy wooden floors of the building. His coat is sopping, and despite the very recent argument, you are terrified your Victorian child of a fiancé will catch a cold. You tug him into the warmth of your apartment.
But you are mad at him.
So no welcome. And certainly no kiss.
“Darling.”
You don’t respond, disappearing within the depths of the house to fetch warm clothes. You hear his footsteps behind you.
What does he think? He can show up drenched in rain and just expect you to talk to him. You take your goodbyes very seriously.
You don’t know why he didn’t apparate into the building straightaway. There’s no protective spells about it. Or why he didn’t just use your fireplace. He has done so multiple times before, of course. But then again, he’s always been dramatic.
“Y/N.” He catches hold of your wrist. The cold makes you shudder.
“Look at me.”
You turn slowly. You’re surprised he’s overcome his pride at all.
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, are you?”
You free yourself from his grasp. He doesn’t resist. He runs a hand through his hair. A trait you’re so familiar with. He’s frustrated, maybe tired. You huff, annoyed.
“I didn’t think I’d have to force you to say ‘I love you’.”
“I do say it!”
“Yeah,” you scoff, “Not everytime.”
“Merlin’s sake,” He curses, and you roll your eyes, “You and my mother have dangerously similar ideals.”
“Oh, so she put you up to this? That makes sense.”
“No, wait. Please let me-”
“Get changed, Draco.” You all but toss the clothes at him. A shirt that you had stolen from him a few weeks ago. He catches it, tossing it to the side.
Before you can react, he grabs hold of your waist, spinning you around. You let out a small yelp, but he’s down on his knees, his wet hair pressing against your abdomen. His thumbs rub slow circles over your hips. A shaky breath escapes his lips.
“I love you, Y/N.” His voice makes a shiver run down your spine. It’s soft and low, like the sound of rustling velvet. You love it so, so much. But you force your hands to stay stiff by your side.
“I love you every moment of the day, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last week. It is utterly my fault, and it is again my fault that it took my mother for me to realise that." His head lifts to meet your gaze, “Do you understand?”
You think you might cry. Your voice trembles when you say, “Yeah. Yeah, I love you too.”
He takes your hand to press a gentle kiss to the inside of your wrist, “Good. Because I do think my mother would kill me if I let you miss another weekend with her.”
You laugh at that, finally ruffling his hair like you’ve been dying to do. He scowls, but it’s playful.
“I don’t think I could live without another weekend with her,” You answer.
He lets out some sound of relief, and you giggle again, “Let’s go then.”
You grin, wild and unrestricted.
Narcissa might just be the bestest friend a girl could ask for.
not a random boy au
summary: for a long, gruelling minute, angelina is under the impression that her best friend has a crush on her boyfriend. but no, that's the wrong twin.
wc: 1.3k+
At first, Angelina thinks you have a crush on her boyfriend.
It starts one day over the summer before your last year at hogwarts. You’re spending the day at hers, and after exhausting hours spent at the pool, committed to the summer tan you wanted oh so badly, you’ve both approached the hour of lazying around after a long, tiring shower. You'd taken to the carpeted floor of Angelina's bedroom, slumping down on a soft pillow, hair still damp, now laying in your pyjamas. Angelina is replying to a letter from George while you flick through a quidditch magazine.
“Hey, want to be in this photo?” Angelina asks, pulling out her polaroid camera from a drawer by her bed. “To George?” Angelina nods and you shrug yes, straightening up and turning to face the camera that she turns to face the pair of you. You smile casually in the photo intended for your friend, turning back to the magazine as Angelina rewatches the photo playback. She smiles softly “We look cute in that.”
“Then keep it. The man doesn’t deserve it.”
Angelina laughs. Nothing is suspicious to her at this point — obviously. But a few days later, you see another letter addressed to Angelina from Fred and George, and the instant she pulls out her camera, you’re fluffing up your hair and turning your shoulder to the camera cutely as you lean in closer to Angelina, perfectly smiling for the camera. Your best friend doesn’t comment on your sudden change in behaviour, but she furrows her brows as she watches the moving image appear on the sheet of plastic after you've taken the photo.
You take a peek over her shoulder, asking “Wait, do I look good?” and that’s when Angelina feels her heart drop. She turns the photo towards you, and you nod in approval. Angelina shoots you a blank stare before turning her gaze back to the image, noting the way you press yourself against her in the image, hands gently placed on Angelina’s arm, looking into the camera with an angelic gleam in your eyes, smile on full display.
Angelina swears to herself that if she finds out you’re doing all that for her boyfriend, she’s going to pounce on you. But for now, she gives you the benefit of the doubt, because after all, you’ve been her best friend for six years, and she might as well just be imagining things. So Angelina clears her throat and attaches the image to the letter before folding it into an envelope and sending it off.
“They’re inviting us to the Burrow tomorrow for a lake day.” You jerk forward at Angelina’s statement, grimacing as you echo “Tomorrow!? Ugh, that means I need to shave tonight.” Angelina glances down at your exposed legs, shrugging at the short hairs decorating your skin. “You know Fred and George don’t care about that stuff.”
She sees you becoming flustered, averting your eyes from hers as you chew on your bottom lip. “Yeah, but — I don’t know.”
Three months ago, you wouldn’t have cared if the hairs on your legs were fully grown before wearing shorts around the twins. Angelina bites her tongue, nostrils flaring as she thinks of a method to find out if you actually like her boyfriend or not, otherwise she’ll drive herself crazy.
“Yeah, I get it. I mean, I want to impress George even though he doesn’t mind my body hair. Even down - you know where.”
You laugh loudly, digging your face into one of Angelina’s pillows as you yell “Angie! Gross!”
“Oh please, you’ve never complained about the details of my sex life before!”
“Yes I have! Doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep hearing them though. Keep them coming. Please.”
Obviously, you and Angelina agree to meet up before going over to the Burrow, despite her conflicting feelings. But at least it means that when you floo over there, she gets to witness your exact reaction to seeing her boyfriend, and she can decide on whether to jump you or not. While she gives George a long hug, Angelina misses the excited smile you shoot Fred, who’s still halfway across the living room. She pulls away from George, watching as you loosely hug him, keeping your hands respectfully on his shoulders. There’s a lot of space between your bodies, and your casual ‘hey’ confuses Angelina, especially when one of your hands pats his shoulder in an almost brotherly manner.
Was she imagining things this whole time?
But then she sees the way your make eye contact with Fred, and notices the way your eyes light up as he comes closer to you, arms extended for a hug. You press yourself onto your tippy toes as you drape your arms over Fred’s shoulders, face digging into the crook of his neck. Fred’s arms are tight around your waist, his hands placed on your back, bodies pressed snugly against each other. You sway a little in the hug, and when you pull away, a smile still lingers on your lips.
Angelina internally scolds herself, arms hanging loosely by her sides, because how did she not notice?
Angelina can’t help the wide smile from making its way onto her face — both in joy that you don’t have a crush on her boyfriend and in utter disbelief. It’s so obvious. She clears her throat in a poor attempt to recompose herself as Fred gives her a quick side hug, but you’ve seen the look on her face. You know she knows.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” She whispers to you on the way out of the house, and you shrug, cheeks tight with the smile that’s on your face. God, you missed Fred so much. “I’ve been dropping hints to you for a month now.” And, she can’t exactly argue with you, because when she looks at things retrospectively, even your small actions from the past two days make sense. Like the way you didn’t care about how you looked in an image just to George but posed like a model in one she sent to the twins — to Fred.
Angelina speeds her pace up, skipping to her boyfriend joyously and coincidentally, Fred slows his down so he can walk with you towards the lake. “It’s good to see you.” Fred says with a smile, looking down at you.
“Yeah, you too. Two weeks of summer without your pretty face around was a mistake.” Fred laughs, bumping his shoulder with yours.
You drop your bag on the floor alongside where Angelina and George have laid their things out, sliding your feet out of your flip flops. “We can put the blanket out,” Angelina starts, raising a hand up to her eyes to protect them from the sun. “You guys go test the water or something.”
“Uh, what if I want to go test the water?” You ask, but Angelina rolls her eyes, tossing the big beach mat at you, and you manage to catch it despite your eyes being glued to a now shirtless Fred Weasley. You huff in mock annoyance but begin helping her out anyway, sitting down on the mat in triumph as you strip off your top. Angelina moves to stand in front of you, hands on her hips, eyes squinted at you in battle with the sun.
“You know, for a second there, I thought you had a crush on George.”
You snort out a graceless laugh, leaning back on your elbows as you loosely shrug your shoulders. “That explains why you were being a bitch.”
Angelina laughs, joining you on the mat. She observes George, biting the inside of her cheek as she internally scolds herself again. Why on earth would you have a crush on her boyfriend? “Yeah I was, wasn’t I? Whatever. You do know I’m going to try setting you guys up now, right?”
“Uh, don't insult me like that. I don’t need help with men. Give me two days and he'll be on his knees for me.”
summary: you and fred had been friends for so long that it never occurred to the both of you that everyone thought you were dating.
pairing: fred weasley x gryffindor!reader
includes: fluff, the both of you being mischievous, kissing, cursing, the two third years being wingmen when they don’t even know it
a/n: officially working on requests the second this gets posted!
You and Fred had the same routine every Sunday night after dinner. The routine was simple and familiar—so familiar that even the younger students knew it all too well. Every Sunday evening, you would typically read the Daily Prophet or do final touches to your essays while Fred would find a way to bother you until you finally gave into him and give him attention. That’s how Sunday nights would always go.
Except for tonight. For some reason, today felt off and neither of you could place a finger on it. The evening started off normal, but the longer you ignored it, the more the feeling intensified.
You were supposed to be working on your Charms essay, but all you could think about was the small feeling nagging at the back of your mind. You were so absorbed with the thought that you didn't realize you were biting the tip of you quill until Fred pulled your hand away from you, propping his feet up on your lap.
"What's with the face, Faucett? Need help with your Charms essay?" Fred asked, pouting dramatically when you snapped out of your trance and pushed his feet off your lap. "You hate me."
You scoff and roll up your parchment, placing it away on the side table. "I do not hate you, Fred."
“You do.” He teased and angled you to face him, pulling your legs to lay over his lap instead. He watched you rest your head against the cushions of the couch, making him tap your knee in concern. “What’s wrong?”
You huff and play with the threads of you sweater that Molly had made you this past Christmas, meeting his eyes that were filled with more emotion than you could place. “Nothings wrong with me, but it feels like something in this room is, you know?”
Fred looked over at the other people in the room. There were hardly any people in the Gryffindor Common Room on Sunday evenings. Everyone was out either making use of the last few hours of freedom they had before classes started the next day or in their dorms, trying to cram for any surprise quizzes.
The only people that were in the Common Room were a group of first years comparing notes, some fourth years playing exploding snap, and a pair of third years conversing quietly in a corner, tucked away from prying eyes and voices—such as Fred Weasley himself.
Fred raised a brow at the two boys who looked away quite quickly when they met the older boy's gaze. He turned back to you for a quick second, replying quietly to your previous comment. “Maybe…”
You crease your brows and look over at the pair of boys as well, “What—?”
“Oi!” Fred hollered at the two third years, making the entire room snap their heads over at the sudden boom of a voice. You blew a piece of hair away from your face in exasperation, giving the other students apologetic looks for the commotion.
“What are you blokes whispering about?” He called out, making the third year on the left burn bright red.
You poke Fred's arm when you saw the poor boy's face, not deterred by all his muscles underneath his own sweater. “Fred, stop bothering them."
The same boy looked away from you two, swallowing thickly while his friend pursed his lips in an effort to not laugh at the current situation. While the rest of the room went back to what they were doing, Fred continued to watch the pair, waiting for a response from either one of them.
Finally, after the two boys whispered back and forth—for Godric only knows how long—one of them spoke up, making the red-head beside you perk up instantly.
“Nothing important.” The teen on the right said for the sake of his friend, waving a dismissive hand in your general direction. “Just trying to figure out how to ask this girl out."
The second you both heard those words come out of the boy's mouth, you looked over at Fred who was already looking back at you with a grin that could only be described as smug.
You sighed, knowing you couldn't do much to stop whatever Fred planned on doing. “Freddie, don’t—“
He stood from his spot on the couch, hands placed on his hips like he suddenly knew the answers to everything in the universe. “Luckily, you’ve come to the right man—“
“—Boy—“ You quipped from his side as you followed him to ensure he wouldn't do or say anything stupid.
“Shut up.” Fred half-heartedly pushed you to the side, still catching you when you stumbled over your feet. He stuck his thumb in the other teen’s direction, “Anyway, who does he fancy?”
You roll your eyes at his antics and give them a warm, reassuring smile, hoping it would take their minds off whatever foolishness Fred has in plan. “First, what are your names?”
“I’m Oliver, and he’s James.” The boy on the right said tentatively, the one on the left—which you both now knew was James—nodding in agreement.
Fred clasped his hands together and nodded mindlessly, keeping his eyes trained on the boys. “Alright, I’m Fred and she’s the pain in my arse—“
“Can you focus?” You groan and shove him to the side, laughing loudly when he threw you over his shoulder to get you to stop interrupting—although the two of you knew it was hopeless.
“Oliver, who does James fancy?” Fred asked, ignoring your calls and protests.
You continued to wiggle yourself free from his grasp, huffing when he held onto you tighter. At that point, the rest of the Common Room gave you odd looks, making you flush a bright pink in slight embarrassment.
Oliver opened his mouth to speak, hesitantly as he stared at you and Fred in concern and confusion, unsure what to do in the situation. “Uhm… He fancies this girl in Hufflepuff named Lila—“
You gasped and hit Fred hard in between his shoulder blades, earning a groan as he dropped you from his arms. You spun around and gave James a soft look, knowing exactly who Lila was. You had tutored her last year in Potions—and based on your five minute interaction with James—the would be the perfect pair.
“She’s really bright and gifted in Herbology.” James says softly, making your heart ache at how he spoke about Lila in adoration.
“Have you tried to ask her out before?” You ask and watch him fidget with his hair.
He shakes his head, eyes darting away from your face toward the ground. “I’m too nervous.”
After recovering from you sudden attack, Fred clapped his hand on James’ back, ruffling his hair when the boy looked up at him. “Don’t be, you look handsome and clearly you’ve got the brains for it.”
In an instant, you saw an increase of confidence in the thirteen year old, making you grin at the sight. Maybe Fred being nosy in other students’ conversations wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
You watched for another second before murmuring something to Fred about finally finishing your Charms essay, giving the two boys one last smile. Before you left for the couch, Fred subconsciously pressed a kiss to the top of your head, knowing you were leaving even though he barely listened to you as he continued to speak to the younger students.
“Ask her out to a picnic by the lake or in one of the outdoor gardens—Not Hagrid’s, of course. That would be a nightmare.” Fred clarified with a small smirk decorating his face, leaning back on one of the armchairs behind him as the boys listened intently.
“Thanks, I’ll ask her tomorrow after class.” James replied with a new found determination in his voice.
Finally snapping out of his small trance, Oliver switched his gaze from Fred to your spot on the couch, tilting his head with a raised brow. “How did you ask your girlfriend out?”
Fred copied his facial expression, turning his head to follow the boy’s eye line when they landed on you. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue before clearing his throat, waving a dismissive hand in the air.
“Oh, we’re not dating.”
“Sure seems like it.” Oliver crossed his arms and raised both brows this time, judging Fred like he was a liar. “You can’t give out advice about dating without having a girlfriend yourself.”
“My advice is fool proof!” Fred blurted, almost baffled that a thirteen year old accused him of spreading false information—though he has done that multiple times before to everyone he knew
“Then how come you don’t have a girlfriend?”
Fred opened his mouth and shut it, putting his index finger up toward the boys before turning and walking over to you. He stood in front of you with his hands in his front pockets, waiting until you finished your thoughts on the essay before speaking.
“Did you know people think we’re dating?” He said quietly, earning a wide-eye look from you. Based on your reaction, you probably didn’t know either. “Yeah, weird. Those two boys thought we were dating.”
“That’s the weird feeling I was getting in this room.” You say as you twirl your golden charm necklace between your fingers, looking over at the two boys who suddenly looked guilty and mischievous at the same time. You raise a brow and look back at Fred with a small smirk, making him grin back.
“Can you imagine the shock on their faces if they believed it took you two seconds to land a girlfriend?”
Fred bent over by the waist, lips mere centimeters from yours. “And what do you have in mind, Faucett?”
Your smirk widens before you pull him in by the collar of his sweater, lips meeting his faster than anyone could have expected it. As if someone flipped a switch in Fred’s mind, he quickly reciprocated, hands coming up to cup the back of your neck and cheek.
For a second, the two of you were completely immersed in each other that you didn’t realize that—once more—the Gryffindor Common Room stared. This time, they stared only for a brief moment before looking away. It seemed like everyone expected it since the moment you both walked into the Common Room together on any Sunday evening.
You separate after the kiss that lasted longer than you both thought it would last, the two of you slightly out of breath, but still wearing eat-shitting grins at fooling the two third years in their small corner. Fred glanced at them from the corner of his eye, winking at Oliver specifically when he stared with a gaped mouth.
“That’ll be the best piece of advice they’ll ever get.” You laugh quietly as Fred plops down beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arm around your abdomen, warm against your skin under the sweater. “You’re not going back to those two boys?”
“Nah, it’ll ruin the fun.” He drawled and looked up at you with his pretty brown eyes, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder unexpectedly. You looked down at him and raised a brow, waiting for an explanation from the one Weasley you liked a little more than the others.
“So, you? Me? Next weekend? Hogsmeade?” He asked with a confident smile, twirling a piece of your hair in between his index and thumb.
You bite back a smile and pat his cheek, his own smile never wavering. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Weasley.”
“Is that a yes?” He questioned, looking between your eyes.
“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” You say as you go back to finishing your essay, not caring for the blush that rose to your cheeks.
You and Fred have been friends since first year, but it never crossed your mind that you could ever be in the relationship everyone assumed you were in. Not until this year. It felt like you clung to every single word he spoke to you this time, and it felt so different.
All the pranks he would plan with Lee and George was always relayed to you, every gift he planned to give to his family members went through you—you were practically his without officially being his.
“I plan for many things, Faucett.” Fred moved to sit properly and dragged your legs back on top of his lap, messing with the embroidery on your jeans. “But I never planned on someone like you kissing me just to mess with two thirteen year olds.”
“You went along with it.” You clarify, knowing damn well that he also wanted to prank the two teens. Besides, it’s not like it was your first time kissing Fred. Not at all.
Your gaze meets his, “So what, you actually want to take me out on a date now?”
“Yep.” He continued to grin and trace the embroidery.
You carefully tuck away your Charms essay once more, continuing to hide the smile that came with the thought of going out with Fred Weasley. “I guess I’ll go on a date with you.”
Fred didn’t even know his grin could get bigger, but it did. He pulled you as close to him as he could, arms wrapped securely around your waist as he tilted his chin down to meet your eyes. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“You are bad news.” You laugh and melt into him when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You raised a brow at him, “Never planned huh?”
“Nope.” He popped his syllables with a smile so bright you swore the sun would shake in it’s presence. “Never planned.”
⤷ One-shot!!! in which...Jungkook, a 7th year pure-blood Slytherin, is secretly in love with you, a 7th year half-blood Ravenclaw. His only obstacle from consuming you is your Gryffindor boyfriend, Minjae, whom he hates with his entire heart. Jungkook hexes him in the hallways whenever he gets the chance and silently wishes for his downfall.
Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new (Do i wanna know?-Arctic Monkeys)
pairing: 전정국 x fem!reader
genre: enemies to lovers | slice of life | smut | angst|
warnings: 18+, nsfw, jk is a manace, he's cocky but he's SOO in love, love triangle, dom!jungkook, swearing, multiple orgasms, making out, drinking, teasing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, class differences, power imbalance, teasing, pet names, arguing
word count: 11.3k
Click here for the characters' moodboards and information!
Taehyung slid into the chair opposite you. "You're hiding. Minjae is looking for you. He wants you to help him with some Quidditch strategy diagrams, again."
You sighed, the sound barely disturbing the quiet. "Tell him I'm studying."
Taehyung gave you a look that said he knew exactly what kind of "studying" you were doing… which was none. The heavy book in front of you was, in fact, upside down.
"Mhm, I will tell him you're studying… whatever," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "He'll probably believe it. You're the smart one."
Then, the heavy oak doors of the library swung open, and a very specific brand of chaos walked in. Or more accurately, two brands.
Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin. Slytherins. Pure-bloods.
"I'm telling you that it's a terrible idea," Jimin's voice was a strained whisper.
"All of my ideas are terrible, that's why they're fun," Jungkook said, his voice loud enough to carry.
You didn't need to look up. You knew that voice. Jeon Jungkook's eyes scanned the room until they landed on your little corner. He quickly looked away, a disinterest that was more telling than a stare.
"Besides, what else are we supposed to do? Study?" He snorted, leaning against a bookshelf, his arms crossed over his chest. He paused, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "I heard Whitmore's new strategy involves trying not to fall off his broom this time. It's revolutionary, really."
Jimin let out an exasperated sigh. "Keep your voice down JK, for Merlin's sake."
Taehyung mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, "He has the emotional range of a teaspoon, I swear."
Jungkook's head snapped toward your table, his smirk widening. "What was that, Taehyung? Working on your NEWTs in stating the obvious?"
Jimin grabbed Jungkook's elbow. "Oh, we're leaving now, before you make a scene and Madam Pince bans us for life."
You finally looked up as Jimin was steering Jungkook toward the door, but not before Jungkook shot a sharp look in your direction and called over his shoulder, "Don't strain yourself, Y/n. It would be such a shame if a Ravenclaw Head Girl failed her exams."
The library door finally shut.
Taehyung closed his book with a soft thump. "That was so subtle."
You muttered, "What's his problem anyway?"
Taehyung laughed a bit. "His problem is about 5'10", wears red and gold, totally reminds him of a golden retriever, and he can't help but bring up Quidditch at the worst moments."
He gave the book cover a little tap. "But honestly, I'm more worried about into these books you’re getting. They read from bottom to top, you know."
You shut the book, a bit embarrassed. "Come on, quit it."
While you were packing up, Minjae burst into the library, his usual lively energy brightening the mood.
"There you are! I've been searching everywhere for you!" He waved from across the tables, completely unaware of the drama that just unfolded. "You won't believe the new formation I've come up with for the Hufflepuff game, it's genius, and I need your help to map it out."
"Oh, sure," you said, the words feeling hollow.
Minjae plopped down in the chair next to you, pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment from his robe pocket without even noticing the upside-down book or how flustered you were.
"Alright, picture this: instead of doing a regular starter formation, we flip it. Chasers fly in reverse! It’s a bit risky, but if we pull it off…"
Taehyung cleared his throat as he packed up his stuff. "I’m outta here. Try not to burn the library down with all this revolutionary brainstorming."
You nodded. "Catch you later." Then you looked back at Minjae. "It's a bold move..."
Minjae was grinning, totally wrapped up in his 'genius' idea, scribbling messy lines on the parchment with a quill that was leaking ink everywhere.
He was so focused on his plan that he didn’t see Jungkook come back into the library this time without his usual buddy, Jimin. Jungkook leaned against a bookshelf, not looking at you at first. He was too busy fixing the cuff of his green robes, his silver Slytherin tie just loose enough to seem a bit rebellious.
"A starter formation...? How ambitious of you. Did you come up with that all by yourself, Whitmore, or did you have help from a first-year's Quidditch practice picture book?"
Minjae was startled and turned to face him. "Jeon, we're in the library."
Jungkook pushed off the bookshelf and took a few steps closer. "I know, I can smell the desperation from here." His eyes flickered to you for a split second.
"Can you two take this somewhere else?" Your voice cut through the tension like a knife. Both boys turned to look at you, Minjae with surprise, and Jungkook with a mask of indifference that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Minjae held up his hands. "Sorry, you're right." He turned back to Jungkook. "This isn't the place."
"Don't sweat it, Y/n. We definitely wouldn’t want to interrupt your… studying," he said, giving you a pointed look at the upside-down book on the table.
Minjae let out a sigh. "What’s his deal? Seriously, he’s been acting like this for ages." He glanced at you, his expression softening. "Anyway, sorry about that. Let’s hit the Great Hall, I'm starving."
You nodded, grabbing your bag while Minjae quickly picked up his crumpled parchment.
"Lead the way, beautiful. I swear no more Quidditch talk for at least ten minutes," he said with a grin.
As you both headed out of the library, you noticed a quick shimmer of a disillusionment charm hastily casted . Next to where Jungkook had been standing was a small, crumpled piece of parchment. You bent down and snatched it up fast, folding it clumsily and shoving it into your robe pocket before Minjae noticed it.
The walk to the Great Hall was filled with Minjae chatting about random stuff, the upcoming Hufflepuff match, the treacle tart he was hoping would be dessert, and a funny story about a Gryffindor first-year. He didn’t mention Jungkook again, and he totally missed how often your fingers brushed against that folded parchment in your pocket.
Once you got to the Great Hall, it was loud and warm, buzzing with the usual dinner noise. Minjae walked you to your table and hung out with you for a moment. Across the hall, Jungkook sat at the middle of the Slytherin table, surrounded by a bunch of younger Slytherins who were clearly hanging on his every word. His eyes were locked on you.
Jimin elbowed him sharply. "You're staring, again."
Jungkook's gaze snapped back to his friend, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm observing; it's called strategy."
Jimin sighed. "Right. The only thing you're strategizing is how to not get another detention for hexing Minjae."
Jungkook's jaw tightened, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the table as he tried his best to look casual.
You sat down at the Ravenclaw table, Minjae next to you as he wanted to stay a little longer.
"Here, tart," Minjae said, pushing a small plate toward you.
You thanked him and took the food, trying to pay attention to his story about the team’s latest practice, but your mind kept wandering. A table over, Jungkook had his arm casually draped over the back of the bench, cracking up at something a seventh-year girl said, but his laugh didn’t reach his eyes.
He raised his voice just enough. "-think the best parties are the ones Filch doesn't find out about until the next morning, right, Jimin?"
Jimin stabbed a roasted potato. "I think the best parties are the ones where you don't set anything on fire."
Jungkook chuckled, his cocky grin showing. His eyes caught yours again, and he raised his goblet in a mock toast in your direction before returning to his friends.
Minjae finally noticed your distraction. "Oh, don't let him get to you. He's just trying to get a rise out of you. Out of everyone."
At the Slytherin table, Jimin whispered to Jungkook, "What do you think you're doing?"
Jungkook shoved him lightly away. "I'm having dinner."
Jungkook stood up suddenly, his chair scraping across the stone floor. The Slytherin side of the table went silent. He didn’t look at you again. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets and left the Great Hall. Jimin let out a sigh, rubbing his face in frustration, before getting up to go after him.
Minjae shook his head. "See? Drama. Everything is a performance with that guy." He cleared his throat. "More tart, pretty?"
You shook your head, your heart pounding. "No, thank you. Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom."
You quickly ducked into the girls' bathroom, hoping there wasn’t a ghost hanging around tonight. You leaned against the sink and pulled out the parchment you had in your pocket.
As you unfolded it, the writing was all over the place. It wasn’t a letter; it was a list.
• Charms essay (ask her for notes? Stupid)
• Check broomstick polish
• Tell Jimin to mind his own business
• Don't look at her in the Great Hall
• Don't look at her in Potions
• Don't look at her. Period.
• Yule Ball (who is she going with? Don't care.)
• I care
• Stop caring
• Her hair is beautiful in the sun.
• Merlin, I'm pathetic.
The last line was crossed out so violently that the quill had torn through the parchment in one spot. At the very bottom, written smaller, was:
• Tell her
Everything except one thing was crossed out, and that one thing was circled over and over, with the ink soaking through the paper. Suddenly, the door creaked open. You jumped, clenched the paper in your fist, and quickly shoved it back into your pocket.
And then Moaning Myrtle decided to make her entrance with a dramatic sob. "Oh, what's that in your pocket? Is it a secret? I love secrets!"
Myrtle swooped down, her translucent form passing close to your pocket. You clutched the paper instinctively.
"Nothing and nobody wants to hear you wail for the next hour," you said, your voice sharper than you intended. "Go bother someone in the prefects' bathroom. I hear they have better bubbles."
Myrtle let out a piercing wail and flew into a nearby toilet. You took a shaky breath, your mind racing. The list, the messy and crossed-out thoughts of the boy who tormented you at every turn. The boy who, it seemed, was just as tormented by you.
You stepped out of the bathroom, the crumpled paper crammed in your pocket feeling like a heavy rock. The Great Hall was still loud, but it all felt far away, like it was muffled. Minjae was still at the Ravenclaw table, chatting excitedly with one of your classmates. He noticed you and his face brightened up with a smile.
"Hey! Everything okay? You were gone a while," he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
You forced a smile, the muscles in your face feeling foreign and stiff. "Everything's fine. Just a headache." The lie tasted like ash in your mouth.
Minjae, bless his oblivious heart, accepted it immediately, his brow smoothing out as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
"Ah, the perks of being the smartest and the most beautiful witch in the room. Come on, let's get you back to the common room, you need rest."
You let him guide you, you couldn't bring yourself to glance at the Slytherin table to see if Jungkook had returned. You weren't sure you could handle it. The walk to the Ravenclaw tower was a blur of Minjae's comforting chatter. You murmured noncommittal and monosyllabic responses, your mind a thousand miles away, replaying the crossed-out words on the parchment.
Finally, you reached the bronze eagle knocker. Minjae waited patiently for you to answer
"I have cities, but no houses live there. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?"
"A map," you answered automatically.
The door swung open, revealing the circular common room. Minjae followed you in.
"Well," he said, dropping onto one of the blue sofas. "That was… eventful. Jeon really needs a hobby." He leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head. "You know, I sometimes wonder what his deal is. We could probably be friends if he wasn't so… Slytherin about everything."
You froze by the window, your hand tightening on the sill. The crumpled parchment in your pocket seemed to burn.
"He's not just 'Slytherin', Minjae," you said, your voice quiet but sharp. "He's cruel."
Minjae sat up, his easy-going expression replaced by one of confusion. "Cruel? He's just an arrogant boy who takes the house rivalry too seriously. It's not personal."
"It's always personal with him," you whispered, turning to face him. "Don't you see that? The hexes, the comments… It's all aimed at you."
"Because I'm the Gryffindor Captain and he is the Slytherin Captain! It's part of the game!" Minjae insisted, his voice rising slightly in frustration. "Why are you defending him all of a sudden?"
"I'm not defending him!" you shot back, "I'm just… I'm saying it's not just a game to him. Nothing with him is just a game."
The silence that fell between you was heavy and unfamiliar. Minjae was looking at you like he'd never seen you before, a flicker of hurt and confusion in his hazel eyes.
"What's going on with you, Y/n? You've been distant for weeks. And now you're defending Jungkook? Is this about that note he passed you in Potions? Because that was just him being a jerk as usual."
You stared at him, and he remembered the note Jungkook had "accidentally" dropped on your desk that simply said, "Your tie is crooked, Head Girl." You had seen the way Jungkook's fingers had brushed against yours, the panicked look in his eyes before he'd masked it. You had thought it was a strange moment, now you knew it was a desperate move.
"I'm tired," you said finally, turning away from him and heading towards the girls' dormitory. "I'm going to bed."
"Y/n, wait," Minjae called out, standing up.
But you didn't stop and walked up the spiral staircase, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the common room.
You flopped onto your bed in your dorm, leaning back against the headboard. The room was quiet; your roommates were already out cold. You pulled the crumpled paper from your pocket, feeling your fingers shake as you laid it out on your lap. You read it over and over again.
Your eyes wandered to the bedside table, where a photo of you and Minjae was sitting. He had his arm around you, and that grin on his face was just full of happiness. It was a perfect snapshot of a couple in love.
You picked up the frame, tracing Minjae's smile with your thumb. You glanced back down at that frantic, ink-stained paper in your lap, and a scary thought crept in: maybe being safe just wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe it never was.
The prince in the dungeon
The decision was born of a desperate, reckless curiosity. For two days after you had found the list, the piece of parchment in your pocket felt like it was burning a hole through your robes.
"You've been a million miles away,” Minjae said on Friday afternoon, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you stared out a window. "Is it NEWT stress? Because if it is, we can have a fun study session with snacks."
You forced a laugh, leaning back into his warmth. "Something like that, just tired."
It was always the same damn excuse, and he bought it every time.
That evening, as you sat in the Great Hall, the announcement came. Jungkook was throwing a party tonight in the Slytherin common rooms.
"He's going to get himself expelled," Minjae muttered “and probably take half his house with him."
Taehyung, sitting across from you, caught your eye. He gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. He knew, he knew you knew, and he knew this was your chance.
"I think I'm going to skip the study session tonight" you said.
Minjae looked at you, surprised. "Oh? Okay, we can just relax then, maybe sneak up to the Astronomy Tower?"
"No," you said, a little too quickly, "I mean… I heard about that party in the dungeons."
Minjae's fork clattered onto his plate. "You want to go to Jungkook's party? Y/n, why? It's just going to be a bunch of Slytherins getting drunk and being… well, Slytherins."
"I'm curious," you lied, your heart starting to pound. "I'm Head Girl, maybe I should… make an appearance, show them I'm not afraid."
It was a flimsy excuse, and you both knew it, but Minjae wanted to believe it.
"Okay," he said slowly, "If you think that's a good idea, but I'm coming with you. I'm not letting you go down there alone."
Panic flared in your chest. This wasn't part of the plan. You needed to see him, to talk to him, alone.
"No, Minjae, it's fine, really. You hate that stuff anyway. I'll just pop in, make a scene, and leave. It'll be good for my reputation."
He looked unconvinced, but you gave him your most convincing smile, the one that usually made him agree to anything.
"Alright but be careful.”
You nodded, your throat tight. "I got it."
An hour later, you find yourself wandering down a dark, unfamiliar hallway, your footsteps echoing off the stone walls. . You're making your way to the dungeons, drawn in by the muffled music. As you reach the bottom of the last staircase, the noise hits you first, and the air is thick with the smell of Firewhiskey.
The password, told to you by a cheeky Slytherin, is "Pureblood."
When you step into the common room, it's like a whole different world. The place is packed with students, a sea of Slytherin green mixed with a few from other houses, all dancing, laughing, and drinking. You can’t help but feel like you stand out in your blue and silver colors.
And then you notice him.
Jungkook is up on a raised platform, drink in hand, looking like he owns the place. His gaze sweeps over the crowd. He definitely gives off the cocky pureblood prince vibe, and you think about bailing.
But then he spots you.
His eyes lock with yours, and the smirk he had disappears for a moment. He looks genuinely surprised, but then a slow, confident grin spreads across his face. He says something to Jimin, who’s next to him, and starts pushing through the crowd, still keeping his eyes on you.
"Well, well," he said, his voice low and raspy, just for you. "Look at you, come to bust the party, Head Girl?"
"I came to see what all the fuss was about."
"The fuss is about not caring. You should try it sometime." His eyes flickered down to your pocket. "Or maybe you already are."
Your breath hitched. He knew you'd taken the list, he had to. This was a game of cat and mouse. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" He was so close now you could smell the Firewhiskey on his breath. "You're in my world, Y/n. You should learn the rules."
"And what are the rules?" you challenged him, your chin held high, your arms crossed.
His gaze dropped to your lips, and for a heart-stopping moment, you thought he was going to kiss you right there, in the middle of his own party, but then he smirked.
"The first rule is that you don't belong here."
He looked entirely too proud of himself. He was playing with her, treating the conversation like a Quidditch match where he already had the lead. He liked the way she crossed her arms, it was a defensive gesture, but it didn't hide the way she was still flushed.
"Besides, if you leave now, you're just proving me right. You're just a little bird who's too scared to stay in the dark for more than five minutes."
"Fine," Y/n said, the word defiant.
"Now that's more like it."
Your gaze shifted without meaning to a couple making out in the corner of the room. His eyes followed your line of sight to the couples, and Jungkook let out a low, mocking hum.
"Careful, Y/n. If you stare too long, you might actually learn something. What's the matter? Is the Gryffindor too gentle? Does he only hold your hand and kiss your forehead?"
Y/n felt the heat creep up her neck. "None of your business."
Jungkook chuckled sarcastically. He turned away from you and rejoined his friends. You didn't leave, and you grabbed a bottle of something that smelled like cinnamon from a nearby table and took a sip. It burned all the way down.
You spent the next hour watching him from across the room. You saw him charm a pretty sixth-year girl, saw him win a round of wizard's chess, saw him laugh with Jimin, and through it all, you felt his eyes on you, quick glances that he thought you didn't notice.
Finally, you'd had enough, you set your bottle down and pushed your way through the crowd towards the exit. You'd seen enough for tonight and you knew what you had to do.
You were almost at the door when a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a small, dark alcove behind a tapestry. He slammed his other hand against the wall beside your head, caging you in. The noise of the party was suddenly muffled, replaced by the sound of your own breathing.
“What the-”
"Where do you think you're going?”
"Home," you said, your voice trembling.
He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. "You shouldn't have come here," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "You shouldn't have seen that."
"Seen what? The perfect party?"
"This," he said, gesturing vaguely at the party beyond the tapestry. "This is all I have. This is all I am, a joke, a performance. Is that what you wanted to see?"
"No," you whispered, your anger melting away. "That's not what I see at all."
His eyes searched yours, desperately "Then what do you see?"
You saw the boy who wrote the list, the boy who was desperately lonely, the boy who thought he was unlovable.
"I see you-," you whispered, the words hanging in the charged air between you.
"You don't, you see him." He jerked his head in the direction of the party, in the direction of where Minjae would be. "You see the charming Gryffindor hero. You don't see this."
"This?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. "What is this, Jungkook? This party? This… mask? Is this all you think you are?"
"It's all I'm allowed to be!" he said angrily, his eyes blazing. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To be told, every single day, that your worth is tied to your name, your blood, your ability to be ruthless?”
He was so close, his body trembling with the force of his confession
"I look at you and I see everything I'm supposed to hate, everything I can't have. You're good, you're brilliant, you’re beautiful and kind, and you're with him, the perfect Gryffindor. It's a fucking fairytale, and I'm the monster in the dungeon."
"You're not a monster," you breathed, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, over the frantic beating of his heart.
He didn't pull away. "Aren't I?" he challenged, his voice a bitter whisper. "I hex your boyfriend in the corridors, I spread rumors about him, I do everything I can to make his life miserable because I'm jealous of him. I'm jealous of the way he gets to hold your hand, I'm jealous of the way you look at him, I'm jealous of the air he breathes because it's the same air you're breathing. If that's not a monster, what is?"
"Why?" you asked, your own voice shaking. "Why do you do it? Why not just… tell me?"
"And say what?" he laughed, a harsh, broken sound. " 'Hey, Y/n, I know I've been a bastard for the past seven years, but I'm secretly in love with you, please leave the wonderful, decent guy you're dating for the messed-up son of a Death Eater sympathizer who doesn't know how to feel anything without hating himself for it?' How well do you think that would go?"
"I would have listened" you said, your heart aching for him.
"No. You wouldn't have. You would have seen me as a joke. A pathetic Slytherin pining after something he can't have. It's better this way, the enemy part, at least that's real."
"It's not real," you insisted, your fingers curling into the fabric of his robe. "None of it is real. This…" you said, gesturing to the space between you, "…is real. This is the realest thing I've felt in years."
For a moment, you thought you had reached him. The wall of arrogance and cruelty crumbled, leaving just the boy who was lost and scared and so incredibly in love with you, it was destroying him. He leaned in, his eyes fluttering shut, his lips parting slightly. He was going to kiss you. And you were going to let him.
You licked your lips
You swallowed
Your stomach did the flip thing
But then, a loud cheer erupted from the party, followed by the sound of a shattering bottle, and Jungkook's eyes snapped open, everything you’ve tried to build tonight crashed down.
"No," he whispered, pulling back from you, running a hand through his hair, his eyes wild. "No, we can't, I can't."
"Jungkook, wait-” you reached for him, but he flinched away.
"Don't," he said, his voice flat "This was a mistake, a big stupid mistake.” He straightened his robes, the mask was back on. "You should go."
"Jungkook, please…," you begged, your heart breaking.
"Go back to your tower, Y/n." He didn't look at you, he looked at the stone wall behind you, as if you were no longer there. "Go back to your boyfriend.”
He turned his back on you and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of laughing, Slytherins. He had pushed you away, but not before he had given you everything.
You stumbled out from behind the tapestry. You didn't look back, you couldn't. The walk back to the Ravenclaw tower was a nightmare.
The rest of the weekend drifted by in a quiet silence. You stayed away from the Great Hall, saying you had a terrible headache at the NEWT level, and Taehyung kindly brought your meals to your room. Minjae kept sending owl messages, each one cheerier than the last, checking in on how you were feeling and letting you know he was thinking of you. But, somehow, you just couldn't find the words to reply to any of them.
By Monday, the bubble of your isolation had to burst. You had Charms with the Gryffindors, and you knew you couldn't avoid Minjae forever. Walking into the classroom felt like marching to your own execution.
"Hey! You're back!" he whispered as you sat down, his hand immediately finding yours on the desk. "I was so worried. Are you feeling better?"
"I'm fine," you lied, pulling your hand away to retrieve your wand. "Just needed some quiet."
"Right," he said, his smile faltering slightly. "Well, I'm glad you're here, maybe you can help me with the wrist flick, I always mess it up."
You tried to focus, you really did. You tried to listen to Flitwick and to perform the practiced flicks of your wand, but all you could think about was the way Jungkook's body caged you in, and the sound of his voice as he confessed everything.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a concerned whisper. "Y/n, seriously. What's going on? Is this about Jungkook's party? Did he say something to you? Did he hurt you?"
"I think we should talk, Minjae," you said, your voice barely audible over the chatter of the class. "Meet me by the Black Lake, after class."
He didn't know what, but he knew something was fundamentally wrong. "Okay, the Black Lake, after class."
The next twenty minutes were the longest of your life. When the bell finally rang, you packed your bag with shaking hands and walked out of the castle. He found you a few minutes later, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold. He looked at you with those honest, hazel eyes.
"So, this sounds serious."
"Don't," you whispered, turning away from him to look at the water. "Please don't be kind right now."
"What? Why? Y/n, whatever it is, we can fix it. Just talk to me."
"I am trying to talk to you! I'm breaking up with you."
"You're… what? No, you're not. You're just stressed."
"It's not that," you said, finally turning to face him. His face was pale. "This isn't working, Minjae."
"Not working?" he repeated, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. "What does that even mean? We've been working for years! We work!"
"We were," you corrected gently. "But we're not anymore."
"Is this because of him?" he demanded, his voice rising with anger. "Is this because of Jungkook? That party? What did he do to you?"
"He didn't do anything!" you insisted, the words feeling more and more like a lie. "This is about me. This is about… us. We're a fairytale, Minjae. We’re a lovely story, but it's not real."
"It is real!" he shouted, stepping closer. "What I feel for you is real! Is this a joke? Are you breaking up with me because you're bored? Because you've decided you want some drama in your life? Is that what this is?"
"No!" you cried, tears finally welling in your eyes. "It's because I don't love you! Not the way you deserve, not the way I should."
"You don't… but you said…"
"I know what I said," you whispered, the tears now streaming down your face. "And I meant it when I said it. But things change, and people change."
"So you've changed," he said, his voice flat. " You've changed so much that you just throw away two years? Don't I deserve a real reason? Don't I deserve the truth?"
"The truth is that I'm not the person you think I am. And you deserve someone who is, someone who can give you all of this, without hesitation." You gestured between you, to the life you had built together. "I can't. I’m sorry."
"So that's it," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Just like that."
"I'm so sorry, Minjae," you choked out. "I am so, so sorry."
He shook his head, a sad, broken little smile touching his lips. "Don't be. Just… go. Please. Just go."
You didn't want to. You wanted to stay and explain, to take the pain away, but you knew you couldn't. You turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone; the perfect hero had just lost its heroine.
You skipped dinner that night and found yourself hiding in the back of the library, acting like you were researching some potion you already knew by heart. You felt like such a coward for breaking a good guy's heart, and now you were just avoiding the fallout. Every time the library doors opened, you freaked out, hoping it wouldn’t be Minjae or, even worse, Taehyung, showing up and wanting to know what the hell happened.
It was nearly curfew when a shadow fell over your book.
"Rough day, Head Girl?" He slid into the seat opposite you, his movements fluid and predatory. He looked rested, composed, a stark contrast to the emotional wreckage you had become.
"What do you want, Jeon?" you asked, not looking up from your book. Your voice was hoarse from crying.
He reached across the table and deliberately closed your book.
"I want to know why," he said. “I want to know why you did it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," you lied, your voice a pathetic whisper.
"Don't even think about lying to me. You dumped him, the so-called hero of your fairytale. So I'm gonna ask you again. Why?"
You had no answer. How could you explain that his confession changed everything?
"I… I had to," you stammered, looking away.
"Had to?" He laughed harshly. "No one has to do anything, Y/n. You wanted to end it. Why? Was it because of me?"
Your head snapped back to his. "What?"
"Was it because of me?" he repeated. "Did you see me on Friday night and decide your perfect little life wasn't so perfect anymore? Did my 'performance' finally get to you?"
"It wasn't a performance!" you shot back, your own anger rising to meet his. "I saw you, Jungkook. The real you."
"The real me?" he laughed again, that same broken, bitter sound. "You saw a pathetic, drunken mess in a dungeon who spilled his guts because he couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut. That's not the real me. The real me is the one who hexes your boyfriend and makes your life hell. That's the one you should be afraid of."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be," he hissed, leaning even closer. "You took it, the list. The one thing, the one stupid, pathetic piece of parchment in the entire world that was just for me, and you took it. You read it, and then what? You decided to do what? Pity me? You felt so sorry for the monster in the dungeon that you threw away your prince?"
"No," you breathed, shaking your head.
"Then what?" he demanded, his voice rising in frustration. "Give me one good reason why you would throw away everything for… for this."
You couldn’t tell him the whole story. You couldn't admit that all those mean things he’d said now felt like love notes. You couldn’t say that his broken confession stuck with you more than two years of Minjae being all sweet and easygoing. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you dug into your pocket.
His eyes followed your movement, his breath catching in his throat. You pulled out the crumpled, worn piece of parchment, his list. You didn't unfold it.
"This," you said, your voice shaking. "This is why."
"I don't understand," he whispered.
"You told me to tell you what I see. You said I see the hero, and honestly, you’re right, I did. I saw that boy who was kind, good, and safe. But he wasn't really mine, not really." You glanced down at the parchment in your hand. "This… this is mine. This chaotic, messy, broken thing. This is real, and I'm over pretending it's not.
He looked at the paper, then back at you, his eyes wide with realization. He hadn’t pushed you away; he’d actually pulled you in.
“No,” he whispered, like it was both a prayer and a curse. “You can’t. You shouldn’t.”
“I already did,” you replied softly.
The days after the breakup blurred into a week. You were… on your own. The castle felt off. Minjae kept his distance, which was both good and bad. You’d catch sight of him in the Great Hall or outside on the lawns. Taehyung was always around, his sharp eyes catching everything, but he gave you your space.
And then there was Jungkook.
Nothing much happened, at least on the surface. He went back to being Jeon Jungkook, the cocky Slytherin prince, but it felt different now. You noticed the cracks, you saw how his eyes searched for you across a crowded room, not with his usual teasing. He was giving you space, which had to be tough for him. He was waiting, you realized. Waiting for you to make the next move. The ball was in your court.
However, things hit a boiling point on Friday morning.
The Great Hall was buzzing with the pre-weekend energy. You were picking at a piece of toast when Taehyung slid onto the bench beside you.
"You look like a dead pufferskin," he stated, not unkindly. "Have you even slept?"
"Shut it, Taehyung," you mumbled, pushing your plate away.
He sighed, pulling a bowl of porridge towards him. "Look, I know you're going through… whatever this is. But you can't just exist on air and angst forever.”
"I'll be fine."
"No, you won't," he said flatly. "And neither will he."
You didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ was. Your eyes automatically shifted to the Slytherin table. Jungkook was staring blankly at his plate, pushing food around like he was annoyed but didn’t have the energy to care. Jimin was chatting with him, looking worried, but Jungkook wasn’t really paying attention. He looked just as miserable as you felt.
Just then, the main doors of the Great Hall creaked open, Minjae. He wasn’t his usual bubbly self. He scanned the Ravenclaw table and finally locked eyes with you. For a moment, you could see a flash of something cross his face before it turned cold, and he focused on someone else.
Jungkook.
Before you could even wrap your head around what was going on, Minjae was confidently walking across the Great Hall.
Taehyung grabbed your arm under the table. "Oh no. Y/n, don’t just sit there."
But you were totally frozen. You could only watch as Minjae stopped right in front of the Slytherin table, staring straight at Jungkook.
"We need to talk, Jeon," Minjae said.
Jungkook slowly lifted his head. The tired look was gone. He leaned back in his chair, throwing an arm over the back in a way that showed he didn’t care.
"What’s up, Whitmore?" Jungkook said with sarcasm. "Your amazing new plan to lose tomorrow’s match?"
A few of the younger Slytherins laughed. Jimin looked like he was about to be sick.
"This isn't about Quidditch," Minjae said, his voice tight with restraint. "This is about Y/n."
At the sound of your name, Jungkook's entire posture changed. He sat up straight.
"Ah," Jungkook said, his voice now dangerously soft. "The Head Girl. What about her? Did she come crying to you, telling you the big, bad monster scared her in the dungeon?"
Minjae's fists clenched at his sides. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Jungkook stood up, towering over Minjae. "I saw you sulking around for a week. I know she finally got fed up with pretending to be happy with the perfect Gryffindor. She woke up and realized she wanted something real."
That last part hit hard. A gasp went through the students nearby. You felt your face go pale.
"You're lying," Minjae shot back, stepping closer. "You manipulated her. This is all your fault."
"My fault?" Jungkook chuckled, but it sounded nasty. "How's it my fault she finally realized you're just a boring, safe placeholder? I didn't even have to lift a finger. You messed up all on your own."
That was all Minjae needed to hear.
He charged at Jungkook, hands stretched out, ready to grab the collar of Jungkook's fancy robes. But Taehyung was quicker. "Immobulus!" A blast light hit Minjae mid-lunge, freezing him in a goofy pose.
Jungkook didn’t even blink. He ignored Taehyung, the professors rushing in. He locked eyes with Minjae. Slowly, he raised his wand.
“Finite Incantatem,”
The spell hit. Minjae stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance before he caught himself, breathing hard, embarrassment flaring in his eyes. Jungkook just saved him from making things worse.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” Minjae growled, his voice strained. “Don’t even look at me after what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done?” Jungkook took a step closer, stepping into Minjae’s space, holding his wand loosely at his side like a casual threat. “I haven’t done anything. That’s the issue, right? I stayed out of it. I kept quiet. And she still left you.”
"You messed with her head!" Minjae shot back, his voice shaking. "You've been filling it with your garbage for years!"
Jungkook laughed, “Garbage? I told her the truth. I told her I was a wreck. I told her I was a monster. The only thing I’m guilty of is wanting her. What about you? You had her! You had everything anyone could want, but you were so boring that you let her slip away."
"I loved her!" Minjae yelled, fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, "I would have done anything for her!"
"Anything except what she actually needed," Jungkook shot back, his words hitting hard. "You loved the idea of her, the smart, pretty girlfriend to make you look good. Did you ever really see her? Did you notice how she bit her lip when she was deep in thought? Did you know she hates treacle tart but ate it every time you offered it because she didn't want to hurt your feelings?"
Each question was a fresh blow, and you watched Minjae's face crumble. He didn't know. He didn't know any of it. And Jungkook, the boy who supposedly hated you, knew everything.
"She was happy with me," Minjae whispered, a last, desperate defense.
"Was she? Or was she just comfortable? There’s a difference. She was settling for a life that was easy, safe, and a bit empty. I just… I gave her a reason to stop."
Minjae looked completely shattered. He locked eyes with Jungkook, pleading for him to deny it, to tell him it was all a lie. But Jungkook said nothing. Eventually, Minjae’s gaze slipped past Jungkook to you across the silent hall. The anger had faded from his eyes, replaced by deep sorrow. He understood now, he saw everything. With that final, heartbreaking look, he walked out of the Great Hall.
Jungkook's shoulders drooped for a moment, the weight of his victory pressing down on him. Every eye in the room was on you, judging silently. You were the reason for this chaos, the girl at the center of a storm you hadn't known how to stop.
In that crowd, his eyes found yours. His eyes locked onto yours, and in them, you saw not a question but a command. Come.
You pushed your chair back, the sound slicing through the quiet like a shout. Keeping your head up and your expression blank, you made your way over to him. You didn’t glance at Taehyung’s worried expression or Jimin’s cautious look. All that mattered was reaching him.
He met you halfway, right before the huge doors of the hall. He didn't say a word; just turned and brushed past you, and you fell in step beside him. Instead of dragging you down to the dungeons or some creepy hidden spot, he took you up on the moving staircases. As you climbed higher, the noise of the castle faded away, replaced by the sound of your own racing heartbeat. He was guiding you to a place filled with ghosts and memories, somewhere you hadn’t been in ages.
The Room of Requirement
"Are you happy now?" you finally asked, your voice barely a whisper.
He turned slowly. "Happy?" he repeated, the word a bitter taste on his tongue. "No. I'm not happy."
He closed the distance between you in two long strides.
"I'm furious. I'm furious at him for being so blind. I'm furious at you for being so stupid. And most of all, I'm furious at myself for thinking for one second that this could ever end well."
"You didn't have to do that," you shot back, he grabbed your wrist.
"Didn't I?" he chuckled. "What was I supposed to do? Let him keep living in his little fantasy? Let him keep looking at you like you were his trophy? I had to show everyone. You’re not his. You never were."
"And I'm yours?" you whispered.
His eyes grew dark as he lifted his other hand, fingers gently tracing your jaw, his touch surprisingly soft compared to the tight grip he had on your wrist.
"You've always been mine, little raven," he said quietly, his thumb brushing your bottom lip.
And then he kissed you.
It wasn't soft or sweet at all. His mouth was demanding, pushing against yours with an urgency that took your breath away. He pressed you back until your shoulders hit the cool stone of the wall, trapping you in.
He let go of your wrist and tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to make the kiss deeper. His other hand moved down your back, pulling you against him so you could feel his arousal through your robes. A gasp slipped out, and he seized the chance, slipping his tongue inside to explore and claim you.
Your hands flew around his neck, pulling him closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin, to consume him, to be consumed by him.
He broke the kiss, both of you panting, your foreheads pressed together. The night air was cold on your swollen lips.
He leaned in again, but this time his kiss was softer. It felt different, almost like he was cherishing the moment after that intense passion from before. His lips moved against yours slowly, setting a rhythm that made your legs feel a little wobbly. One of his hands slid from your back to your hip, his thumb drawing little circles, sending shivers all over you.
"Y/n," he murmured against your lips, making your name sound almost sacred. "You’ve gotta tell me this is real."
"It's real," you promised.
That was all the permission he needed.
His mouth reclaimed yours with a renewed hunger, his hands growing bolder. He found the clasp of your school robes, his fingers fumbling with it for a moment before it came undone with a soft click. The heavy wool pooled at your feet, leaving you in the thin white blouse and skirt.
He reached out and slowly, deliberately, began to unbutton your blouse. His fingers were calloused from Quidditch, rough against your skin. One button. Two. Three. He took his time, his eyes never leaving yours, watching your every reaction.
When your blouse was open, he pushed it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the stone floor. You stood before him in your simple white bra and skirt.
"You're so beautiful, little raven." He reached out and traced the lacy edge of your bra with his fingertips. "Merlin, I've thought about this. About what you'd look like. In bed, under me."
His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He leaned down and kissed the hollow of your throat. His kiss felt warm and open, and he traced a line down your neck to your collarbone. You tilted your head back, letting him have better access, a soft sigh slipping from your lips. His hands were on your waist, holding you steady.He found the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you couldn't stop the moan that rose in your throat. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound against your skin.
"I knew you'd be sensitive here," he murmured. "I spent an entire Transfiguration lesson once just watching the way you'd twist your hair when you were concentrating, wondering if you'd make that same little sound if I put my mouth right… here." He punctuated his words with a sharp nip of his teeth, and you jolted, a gasp torn from your lips.
"Jungkook," you breathed.
"Tell me what you want, pretty," he commanded, his mouth moving back up to claim yours in a searing kiss. "Tell me, Y/n."
You couldn't form the words. All you could do was hold on tighter, arching against him, a silent, desperate plea for more.
He seemed to understand. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, "Can't talk? That's okay. I can do all the talking."
His hands moved from your waist to the small of your back, tracing the curve of your spine before sliding down to grab your ass through the fabric of your skirt. He squeezed, pulling you tight against him, and you gasped as you felt his hard cock pressing into your stomach.
"You feel that?" he said, his lips close to your ear. "That's what you do to me. You've been doing it for years. Every time you walked into a room, every time you answered a question in class, even when you just breathed in my direction."
His hands were restless now, roaming over your body, learning the shape of you. He slid one hand up your side, his thumb brushing against the side of your breast. You whimpered, pushing into his touch, needing more.
"Patience, I've waited too long for this to rush it."
But his own patience was running out. He let out a frustrated groan, reached behind you, and struggled a bit with your bra's clasp. It clicked open, and he tossed it aside with the rest of your clothes. The night air hit your bare skin, and your nipples instantly got hard.
Jungkook stilled, his gaze fixed on your chest. "Fuck, you're perfect."
He reached out, his hand lingering for a second before he grabbed one of your breasts, his palm warm and heavy. He ran his thumb over your already hard nipple, and you let out a gasp.
"Shh," he murmured, leaning down to take the other into his mouth. "We don't want to bring the whole castle up here, do we?"
His mouth was hot and wet, a shocking contrast to the cold air. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive peak, then sucked, hard. Your hands flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands, holding him to you. He gave attention to your breasts, alternating between them, his mouth and hands working in rhythm.
Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled back, his breathing ragged.
"I need to see all of you," he said, his voice a raw, rough command.
He dropped to his knees before you, He looked up at you from his position. He reached out and placed his hands on your hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your skirt. You nodded.
Slowly, he peeled your skirt down your legs, his fingers tracing the path of the fabric as it went. He followed it with his mouth, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your hips, your stomach, the tops of your thighs. You were trembling.
When your skirt was around your ankles, you where in nothing but your simple cotton underwear.
"You're shaking," he observed, his voice soft.
"You're doing this to me," you managed to say, your voice barely audible.
"I haven't even started yet."
He hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and slowly pulled them down. You stepped out of them. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss under your navel, his lips soft and gentle. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself.
"Jungkook," you pleaded, not even sure what you were begging for.
"I know," he murmured against your skin. "I know."
He shifted, settling between your thighs. He looked up at you one last time, and then he lowered his head.
The first touch of his tongue against your clit was a lick and it sent a shockwave of pleasure through you so intense your knees buckled. He held you steady, his hands gripping your hips, while his mouth working its magic.
He didn’t hold back. He explored you with his. He circled your clit, then flicked it, then sucked it into his mouth. Your world was just the sensation of his mouth on you, the rough slide of his tongue, the desperate sounds of your own breathing.
You were babbling now, a stream of incoherent pleas and praises. "Please, Jungkook, yes, don't stop, please, please, please…"
He didn't stop. He increased his pace, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. He slid one hand from your hip, his fingers finding your entrance. He teased you for a moment, circling the opening, before sliding one long finger inside you.
You cried out, your inner walls clenching around him. He began to move his finger in time with the movements of his tongue while you were closer to the edge. He added a second finger, stretching you.
"Come for me, Y/n, let me feel it, let me taste you."
With a final, desperate cry, you orgasmed. It left you breathless and shaking, and he held you through it, his mouth and fingers milking every last drop of your slick.
Once the shaking finally stopped, he stood up and wrapped his arms around you. You sank against him, your head on his chest, listening to his heart. He just held you for a while, gently running his fingers through your hair.
"You're gorgeous," he murmured.
You looked up and kissed him. You could taste yourself on his lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He was still fully dressed, and the rough texture of his robes felt amazing against your bare skin. All you could think about was wanting to feel him fully, wanting to see him.
You pulled back, your hands going to the front of his robes. "Your turn."
He watched you as you fumbled with the clasp of his robes. Your fingers were clumsy with urgency, but you finally managed to get it open. You pushed the heavy fabric off his shoulders, and it joined yours on the stone floor.
He was wearing a simple black shirt underneath. You made quick work of the buttons, your hands brushing against the warm, hard plane of his chest. He was lean and muscular, his body a testament to years of Quidditch training.
Your fingers trembled as they traced the lines of his chest, feeling the steady, rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. You pushed the black shirt off his shoulders, and it joined the growing pile of discarded clothing on the cold stone floor. You reached out, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs, feeling them tighten under your touch. He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands coming to rest on your waist.
"Your hands are cold," he murmured, a low rumble in his chest.
"Sorry," you whispered, but you didn't stop touching him.
"Don't be," he said, his voice thick.
His skin was warm, and you could feel the fine tremor running through him, a mirror to your own. He was magnificent, and he was all yours.
Your gaze drifted downward, to the very obvious bulge straining against the fabric of his trousers. You swallowed hard.
"Like what you see, little raven?" he asked, his voice a low, husky rumble.
Instead of answering, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his chest, right over his heart. You could feel it thumping against your mouth. You kissed your way across his chest, your tongue darting out to taste the salty skin, to trace his collarbones. His hands came up to rest on your back, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he needed to anchor himself.
With a surge of confidence, you let your hand drift lower, palming him through his trousers. He groaned. His hips jerked forward instinctively, seeking more friction.
You knelt before him, just as he had done for you, your gaze fixed on the button of his trousers. Your hands shook as you undid it, the sound of the zipper loud. You looked up at him, your eyes wide, and saw the raw, naked hunger on his face.
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them down. His cock sprang free, hard and thick. It was bigger than you'd imagined, the head flushed, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip.
Your breath hitched in your throat. You'd seen boys before; you’d seen Minjae, but this was different.
You reached out a trembling hand and wrapped your fingers around him. He was hot and hard in your grasp, the skin velvety soft over the rigid core. He let out a harsh groan, his hips bucking forward instinctively.
"Fuck, Y/n," his head falling back. "Don't… don't tease."
You weren't teasing. You were exploring. You ran your thumb over the head, smearing the bead of pre-cum over the sensitive skin. He shuddered, a full-body tremor that ran through him like a wave.
"You don't have to."
“Shut up, Jeon, I want to.”
You leaned in and flicked your tongue against the tip, tasting the salty, slightly bitter flavor of him.
He hissed, his hands flying to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. "Y/n," he warned, his voice strained. "I'm serious. If you… if you do that…"
You looked up at him, your lips hovering just a breath away from his cock. "If I do what?" you whispered boldly.
"Gods," he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut. "If you put your mouth on me, I won't be able to control myself. I'll… I'll fuck your mouth. And I don't want to do that. Not yet."
His words sent a fresh wave of heat to your core. He wanted you so much he was afraid of his own reaction.
You took a deep breath and made your choice. You wanted to taste him, to feel him, to give him the same mind-blowing pleasure he had just given you. You wanted to see him lose control.
You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. He cried out, his fingers tightening in your hair, his hips jerking forward. You took more of him into your mouth.
You couldn't take all of him, not at first, but you tried. You relaxed your jaw and took him deeper, your hand working the base of his shaft in time with the movements of your mouth. He was breathing heavily now, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. The sounds he was making were driving you crazy.
He was right. He couldn't control himself. His hips began to move, a slow, shallow rocking at first, then faster, deeper, his cock hitting the back of your throat.
"Y/n, fuck, your mouth… so good… gods.”
"Fuck, yes, just like that. Your mouth is so fucking good."
You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and he cried out, his whole body tensing. You could feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic.
“Y/n, I'm gonna…"
He tried to pull back, to warn you, but you held on. With a final groan, he came, his hot, salty release flooding your mouth. You swallowed, your throat working, milking him for every last drop.
“You crazy little witch,” he murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse.
You chuckled softly.
He shifted, his body covering yours. He was already hard again, his cock pressing against your thigh.
"I need to be inside you. Are you ready for me, little raven?" he murmured against your lips.
You nodded frantically. He reached between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. You were still wet from your earlier orgasm, and his fingers slid easily through your folds. He circled your clit, then slid two fingers inside you, testing your readiness.
"Mhm, You're so wet for me," he said.
"All for you," you echoed.
His fingers stroked and teased you until you were squirming beneath him, begging. He reached between you, guiding his cock to your entrance.
"Look at me, clever girl," he commanded, his voice low and intense.
You forced your eyes open, and he held your gaze as he slowly, deliberately, pushed into you.
There was a brief, sharp sting as he stretched you, and you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He stilled.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
You took a deep breath, the pain already starting to fade. "I'm okay," you said. "Don't stop."
He began to thrust slowly and deeply at first, then faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the silent room.
"Harder," you gasped, your voice a raw, desperate plea. "Jungkook, harder."
His movements becoming almost brutal, his cock pounding into you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
"You're so tight, sweetheart," he gritted out, his fingers digging into your thighs. "So fucking perfect."
He reached between you again, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, and you felt your orgasm building again. Your entire body tensed, your muscles locking up as the pleasure increased.
"Come for me, Y/n," he commanded, his voice strained. "Come with me."
With a final, brutal thrust and a hard pinch of your clit, you orgasmed. You screamed his name, your body shaking underneath him, your inner walls clamping down on his cock in a series of powerful, rhythmic spasms. He fucked you through it, his thrusts becoming erratic, his control finally breaking as your body milked him. With a loud, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his own orgasm crashing over him, and you felt the hot, powerful pulse of his release as he spilled into you.
He collapsed on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You were both panting, your bodies sweaty and trembling. He didn't move for a long time, and you didn't want him to. You wrapped your arms around his back, holding him close.
“Hi," he whispered, a small, crooked smile playing on his lips.
You laughed, a breathy, soundless puff of air. "Hi," you whispered back.
He leaned down and kissed you gently. "Are you okay?" he asked again, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.
"I'm more than okay," you whispered.
He smiled, a genuine, brilliant smile that lit up his entire face. He kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips.
“Me too," he murmured against your skin.
With a soft sigh, he carefully withdrew, the loss of his warmth making you shiver. He grabbed the heavy wool of the discarded school robes and draped them over you both.
"You’re going to have bruises," you murmured. "I'm sorry," you said, your voice thick with regret. "I got... carried away. I didn't hurt you, did I? Truly?" You shifted, propping yourself up on your elbow to look down at him.
He reached up and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking his skin. "No, little raven. You didn't hurt me. Plus, I like them, they're a reminder."
"A reminder that you’re mine?" you asked.
"Mhm, always," he confirmed. "So. What do we do now, Y/n?"
"We walk out of here, and tomorrow, we sit together at breakfast. And I’ll sit at your table, and you’ll hold my hand, and we won't care who sees."
"Just like that? You know…Y/n, my father-"
"Just like that," you confirmed.
He buried his face in your hair, his arms tightening around you like he was afraid you might disappear.
"I love you," he whispered, the words muffled against your skin. "I think I've loved you since the 4th year.”
You laughed, "I thought you were an arrogant, Quidditch-obsessed boy. and I love you too."
"I am," he said, pulling back to grin at you. "But I'm your arrogant, Quidditch-obsessed boy."
Eventually, you knew you had to move, because the night couldn't last forever, but this time you risked it for the biscuit and walked down with him in the dungeons. Jimin had luckily gone somewhere, maybe also dealing with his little secret.
When morning came, Jimin's jaw practically hit the floor, his eyes darting from Jungkook's smug face to the copper hair peeking out from the duvet.
Jungkook pulled the duvet higher over the still asleep Y/n, shielding her, and looked at Jimin with a look of absolute, smug triumph. His voice was a low, morning rasp.
"Morning, Jimin. Close the door."
"Close the door? JK, you have a Ravenclaw, a Head Girl, in your bed!" He gestured wildly with one hand. "Do you have any idea what happens if a Prefect walks in? Or a professor? Or the entire school?"
Jungkook yawned lazily, not moving an inch, his arm remaining locked around you. His voice was thick and rough, devoid of any guilt.
"Then they'll know." He looked down at you, his gaze softening into something sweet, before he looked back at Jimin. "Now, I said, close the door, Jimin. Unless you want to be the one to tell the Gryffindor Golden Boy that his ex-girlfriend spent the night in the snake pit."
Jimin scoffed and left the room.
Jungkook didn't move to get up. Instead, he shifted, his chest vibrating as he chuckled. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a teasing, low vibration. "Wake up, little monster. We have an audience."
Y/n groaned and buried her face deeper in his chest. "Five more minutes. Are we doomed?"
"We're not doomed," he said, his eyes soft. "We're just beginning." He leaned in and kissed you. When he pulled back, he was smiling. "Now, get dressed, Head Girl. You have a castle to run. And I have a rumor to start."
You looked at him, "What rumor?"
He grinned, "The one that says Jeon Jungkook finally got his girl."
▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰
a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed this. i have been obsessed with H.P. and Hogwarts Legacy lately, and I couldn't bring myself to not write something, even if I'm graduating next month and my mind is everywhere ;-;
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
💭 You love it when he talks, that damn Scottish Accent that ties your stomach to knots.
‼️ Friends to Lovers, teasing, Quidditch Obsessed Oliver, Oblivious Oliver at first, Flirty Oliver as the story progresses, smut at the end (sort of just making out?) 😛 (i've never written smut so pls bear w me)
‼️ this might not follow the logic or lore from the books (like being excused from classes to practice) but it's just there for the plot :))
oneshot
A Valentine's Special!
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"I'm blabbering again, aren't I?"
"You are, but don't shut up. I love it."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Everyone thought you two were dating.
Oliver Wood? Dating? Pft, oh please. That man had Quidditch on his mind 24/7. You laughed at the idea that Oliver Wood would ever date someone when there's Snitches, Bludgers and Quaffles flying around in his mind.
You and Oliver had been friends for as long as you could remember. You met him on the train, lugging around his bag full of Quidditch equipment which should have been left in one of the compartments in the train, but he clung onto it as if he'd die if he let go.
He didn't have anywhere to sit so you kindly offered him a seat there in your cart. He sat down and spent the whole ride yapping about Quidditch strategies, Quidditch tactics and more and more Quidditch related topics.
You were annoyed at first, but after a while you were intrigued by this boy. You came from a family of Quidditch maniacs too, so for you this was a daily occurrence.
You both talked and laughed the whole train ride, even traveling to the castle together.
6 years later, you two were still glued to the hip.
And ofcourse with 6 years of your close bond you'd think that everyone would probably just say that "Oh Oliver and You? You guys are the sweetest friends I've ever seen!". But noooo, it was: "Oh Oliver and You? You guys are the cutest couple I've ever seen!" or "There goes the Quidditch Couple".
When you and Oliver found out on 3rd year that people thought that of you two, you both were weirded out. Like, can't you guys be opposite genders and be friends? You both just rolled your eyes whenever you heard a couple comment, but you stopped that reaction when you reached the 4th year.
By that time you've realized that what you felt for Oliver that was once friendly banter turned into butterflies that go haywire in your stomach.
You always felt goosebumps when he slung his shoulder around you. When he called your name it made your heart flutter. When he would come to you to hang out after a Quidditch practice you find yourself fixing yourself up just for a walk by the Black Lake.
But most of all, you find yourself entranced by the way he talks. That Scottish accent always gets your heart tied to knots. It doesn't matter what topic you guys talk about, as long as he runs that mouth of his you feel like as if you're the only two people in the world.
You never want him to stop. Quidditch tactics? Yap away. Ranting about Marcus Flint? Honey you're all ears. Just little babbles? You're sat down.
"Am I blabbering too much?" he'd ask
You'd nod with a smile "You are, but keep talking. I like it when you run your mouth."
He would come to you and talk strategies on how to beat Flint's the Slytherin team's ass. Safe to say you were his personal Quidditch strategist. You pointed out the flaws in his strategies and help him come up with better ones. You were even invited to their team tent before the game and give them some moral support and pep talk or, as Fred and George would say: your "Motivational Support for Wood".
You were really close with the team, and you had a feeling that they were already catching up on what you felt with Oliver. Angelina knew, you told her personally. Katie and Alicia had their guesses. Harry hardly cared but you were sure he was suspicious. And as for Fred and George they were constantly a pain in your arse as they would shove you two together and call you "Mum" and "Dad".
Both you and Oliver would just scold them (and Oliver would make them stay late for practice) but it would be a lie if you said that you didn't like it.
You know that you shouldn't feel that way. Like come on, who seriously falls inlove with an accent? You were also pretty sure that he would never feel the same way... Until this week.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You had just finished Potions class and stood up from your seat to stretch. Snape had gone on and on and practically tackled atleast 3 lessons at once.
You picked up your notes and put them in your pack. Oliver had not come to class today because of a Quidditch match tomorrow. The Gryffindor team had an excuse letter from McGonnagal herself (though you were pretty sure Oliver begged her to make one). Now you had made notes for Oliver to copy on once he was done.
You muttered a little goodbye to Snape for respect as he just ignored you and walked away.
"What an arse.." you muttered as you exited the class and went straight for the Great Hall. Your stomach was growling worse than a dragon.
Passing through the doors you went straight for the Gryffindor table where you spotted Lee Jordan already wolfing down a plate of eggs.
"Did you miss breakfast earlier?" you asked as you sat down across from him.
He grinned and nodded at you as a greeting and swallowed his food. "Nah."
"Then why does it look like you haven't eaten in days?"
"Jeez, can't a guy just enjoy a plate of eggs?" he rolled his eyes and smirked.
You shrugged "Just sayin." you said as you loaded your own plate with some roast beef.
"Where're the twins?" you asked as you stabbed your food with a fork.
Lee shrugged and filled his goblet with pumpkin juice "I dunno, still at practice I guess? They've been at practice since 2nd period. You should've seen Mr. Flitwick's face when Oliver came bursting in announcing that McGonnagal excused them for Quidditch practice" he laughed.
You let out a sigh and chuckled "I swear, Oliver is never giving his team a break. I can only imagine what those poor things are going through."
Lee snorted "Tell me about it."
"Oh you can never imagine." a voice grumbled from behind you.
You looked behind you to be face to face with an exhausted George Weasley.
"Oliver is a monster." Fred walked towards you before stopping beside George.
"Jeez, you guys look awful." Lee scrunched his nose.
"Shove off." Fred said before flipping him off.
George sat beside you and Fred sat beside him. Both of them tired, breathing ragged and hair looking like a rat's nest.
"Merlin, look at you both. Did Oliver even give you a break?" you asked as you poured them some pumpkin juice.
"You know damn well he didn't" George grumbled as he thankfully took the goblet from you and gulped in all in one go.
Fred dramatically put his arm on his face "Oh mother, our dear father made us practice non stop. Don't you feel bad for us? Could you please tell your Dear Sweet Oliver to atleast give us the afternoon to rest for the game tomorrow?" he said dramatically and pouted in your face.
George snorted into his goblet and Lee snickered.
You rolled your eyes and flicked some peas in his direction.
"Oh shut it, Weasley." you grumbled as you stabbed your roast beef again.
"Oh come on, we all know how much you love our Captain. You're always practically drooling while hearing his voice yap about Quidditch, tactics, blah blah." George nudged you playfully as you almost choked on your food.
"I most certainly do not." you snapped.
"Certainly, you do." Fred smirked.
"Not."
"Do to."
"Not."
"Do to."
"Not."
"Do to."
"NOT."
"DO T—"
"What in blazes are you two yammering about?" a heavy Scottish accent made you both fall into silence.
George bit his lip, suppressing a laugh. Lee just whistled as he stacked some muffins on top of each other.
Oliver slid to the seat next to you and poured himself some pumpkin juice. "You both sound like kids." he said.
You rolled your eyes "Tell that to Fred."
Fred batted his eyes "Oh I'm sorry, Mum and Dad. I'll be a good boy from now on."
"Shut up, Fred." you and Oliver both say in unison.
"Even speaking together! Couple goals!" Lee chortled as George banged on the table, laughing.
"Shut up, all of you." Oliver mumbled as he sighed heavily.
"Oh c'mon, Oliver. We all know how you love being teased with your little strategist." George wiggled his eyebrows.
"I will make you run laps around the pitch, Weasley. So help me." you growled.
George feigned in mock offense "Oh no! Mother is gonna make me run laps! Father, do something!"
Oliver snorted and scooped some corn to his plate "I'd let her."
The trio howled with laughter as you and Oliver just sat there.
"Anyways" Oliver said, turning to you and ignoring the three annoyances. "We need help strategizing for the game tomorrow."
"Mhm." you mumbled as you rested your chin on your palm and leaned on the table.
"Okay, so i was thinking..." Oliver went on and on talking about Quidditch strategies while you were transfixed by the way he was talking.
"—so do you mind?" Oliver finished talking.
You shook your head, jolting back to your senses. "Huh, what?"
Fred laughed and slapped his knee "Oh Godric, look at her face."
George howled with laughter "Were you even listening?"
You felt your ears heat up "S-sorry, zoned out. Potions class was a pain." you said as an excuse.
Lee rolled his eyes "Yeah right, you were just too focused on Oliver's voice to even focus on what he was saying."
"I was not!"
"You were." the trio said.
Oliver cleared his throat and the four of you looked at him.
"Do you three mind?" he said to Fred, George and Lee. "You're disturbing us. Go on before I really make you run laps around the pitch. Even you, Lee." he threatened.
The trio scrambled out of their chairs before Oliver could pelt them with a lunch roll, while laughing and hollering and calling out teases to you both.
Oliver bit down at his food as he turned to you again.
"So, I was saying. Do you mind if you meet us at the team tent later? After your last class?" he said in between bites. "I need— I mean, we, need you." he faltered as pink crept to his cheeks.
You blinked at his words "Oh, uh, sure."
Silence swept over the both of you and you felt this tension around the both of you that you've never felt before.
Oliver cleared his throat again and stood up to leave.
"Gotta go. Cya later." he said in a hurry and left.
...The fuck just happened?
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
The day passed by like a blur. Next thing you know you're already walking towards the Quidditch pitch.
It was getting dark and you knew that you'd probably get past curfew, but lucky for you, your last class was Transfiguration and McGonaggal had pulled you aside and gave you an excuse letter. She seemed tired about it and it was probably because Wood told her he needed you. But being the loving professor she was, she went out of her way to do everything for your house. You thanked her and went on your way.
You stopped by the tent flap where you heard the team squabbling.
"No no! We can't do that!" you heard Oliver hiss angrily.
You could practically hear Fred's eye roll "Oh c'mon! It seems pretty rad to me!"
"You're risking Alicia and Angelina here." Katie pointed out.
"Not to mention it could take out me or you and leave Harry out in the open. You know that those Slytherins can tamper with the bludgers." George agreed.
You heard Harry groan in annoyance.
Fred scoffed "You guys just don't appreciate my master plans." he said, earning a scoff from the others.
Oliver sighed "Let's just wait for—"
"—Mum to get here?" Fred finished.
Silence.
The team bursted out in laughter as you peak through the crack of the flap. And the scene made your heart flutter.
The team surrounded Oliver as his cheeks burned red. You guessed they just finished practice, because everyone had changed out of their practice jerseys and was wearing some more comfortable clothing. But Oliver caught your eye, wearing a short sleeved Gryffindor shirt that flattered his features.
"He loves it when we tease him like that." George said while slapping Fred's arm playfully.
"Look how red he is!" Fred laughed.
"SHUT UP!" Oliver snapped, covering his face.
Angelina put her hand on Oliver's shoulder "Hey, stop it guys!" she yelled, then continued: "Dad can't take it when we tease him about Mum."
More laughter, even Harry was clutching his stomach.
"What the hell am I gonna do with you all?" Oliver mumbled.
Katie wiped a tear from the corner of her eyes "You guys are so adorable. Just get together already!"
You watched on, heart thumping and face heating up. You took a step back and—
CRUNCH
...Silence.
You cursed under your breath as you lifted your heel and found that you had stepped on a twig. A fucking twig.
"...Oh crud, do you think she's here?" you heard Harry mutter.
You saw George walking towards the flap to check, and before he could see and realize that you've been there the entire time, you burst in with that welcoming smile of yours.
"Good evening team, lovely night eh?"
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Everyone was silent when you walked in. But you acted as if you really had just gotten there instead of eavesdropping behind the flap.
You made your way beside Oliver and looked around the team, feigning confusion.
"Why are you all silent? You're acting weird." you pointed out.
Suddenly everyone had a fit of coughs and grunts, trying to let go of the awkward silence.
You glanced at Oliver who was trying his best not to meet your eyes. His cheeks were red and he was trying to gain his composure.
Finally, he cleared his throat and turned his attention to you. The team quieted down as you all waited for him to speak.
"Alright." he finally spoke, stuttering abit. "Let's talk strategy."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
The entire strategy meeting consisted of you and Oliver explaining the game plan to the team while Fred and George gave some of their... Helpful, suggestions (which neither you nor Oliver took into even the slightest of consideration. As their suggestions included bumping into the Slytherins to knock them off their broom. Oliver wanted to consider, but you declined.).
After what seemed like an hour, you looked around the group to see that they were hardly listening from exhaustion. Even Fred and George who were going to war with you about the plan had their eyes drooping. Harry was leaning against the table trying to fight his sleepiness, Katie and Angelica were already leaning against each other and Alicia was already resting her chin on her palm, snoozing off.
You looked at Oliver who was still focused on planning, but already had his eyes drooping. You yourself felt your head empty.
You turned to the team "Why don't you guys head back to your dorms and get a goodnight's rest? You've got a big game tomorrow." you smiled softly.
All of them gave out a sign of relief. Oliver was about to protest when you shot him a death glare.
"Ugh about time." George mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"You're a life saver." Alicia said yawning.
"Thanks, Mum." Fred said almost weeping with happiness as he rounded the table to hug you.
You patted him as you gasped for air "Yes yes, whatever, Fred. You're acting like a baby. Go now before I change my mind."
Fred let go and winked at you as he looked behind you and grinned. He hugged you again "Bye, Mum. Have fun strategizing with Dad."
"Shut up, Fred." You and Oliver said at the same time, making the others laugh.
"Don't get rowdy in here you two!" Angelina called out.
You felt you cheeks heat up "What in the blazes-"
"Byeee!!" Katie called out.
They all filed out of the tent, snickering and calling out teases until their voices faded out, leaving only you and Oliver alone.
You turned to face him, and your heart skipped a beat. He was already staring at you. Eyes tired but he had this soft smile on his face.
You blinked at him "What?"
He averted his eyes from you as he cleared his throat.
"Nothin'. Just amusing to see how you can handle them."
"You mean the team? Oh please they're just babies." you snorted.
Oliver chuckled "Yeah, they are."
He fidgeted with the parchment laid out on the table. You stared at him, how the lamplight shone on his face, how he looked so tired but still managed to keep a smile on his face. Not to mention—
"We should probably wrap this up, you look sleepy yourself." He said, accent thick and voice deep from tiredness.
You felt your stomach erupt with butterflies. This was one thing that made you go crazy whenever you and Oliver spent a tiring night together, talking. His voice tended to go deeper than it was, accent going thicker. It took all of your willpower to bit your lip there and then.
"Y-yeah. We should." you stuttered as you turned to the parchment.
You both went on to talk about strategy, Oliver the one talking more and you being the one to point out the flaws.
It went on and on until you were too tired to reply and Oliver just went on to recap the entire plan.
"I really don't get how you could let them just tease you with me like that."
You raised a brow "Like what?"
Oliver shrugged as he made air quotes "Mum and Dad?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the butterflies going feral in your stomach "I dunno, I just let it go. No point in scolding them, anyways. We did that long ago but they still won't stop."
"I don't know about you, but something tells me that you enjoy it."
You freeze and turn to look at him. He had this stupid smirk on his face as he sleepily leaned on his palm.
You scoffed and swatted his arm "I do not. It's weird."
"Really now?" he said, voice gruff. He leaned closer to you, ever so slightly, and your breath hitched as he stared into your eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes that always made you feel at peace.
You just snapped out of it and scoffed again. You push his head away by placing a finger on is forehead.
"Are you done being weird so we can finish this?"
He laughed softly and gathered the parchment that was under your hands, finger brushing softly.
"I think that's enough for tonight, we've already got a plan anyways. Let's call it a night."
You nodded and helped him pack up some of the things in the tent.
"Shall we?" you asked as he nodded and grabbed his things.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
The walk towards the Gryffindor Castle was silent, which you both enjoyed. You heard birds and crickets chirping in the trees. You heard the rustle of bushes whenever squirrels ran about. You felt the woosh of air across your face, breathing in the night smell.
Oliver was walking beside you, staying at your pace. He was mumbling to himself, probably about the game tomorrow.
You nudged him "I think that's enough about Quidditch, eh?"
Oliver blinked out of his trance as he looked at you, now smiling awkwardly "Sorry, just want to enjoy the look of defeat on Flint's face when we finish him off tomorrow."
You rolled your eyes "Oh please, you and that obsession with Flint, if I didn't know better I'd say you're inlove with him." you teased.
Oliver groaned "Shut up."
"Oliver and Marcus sitting on a tree." you sang "K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
Oliver shoved you playfully as you squealed with delight.
"Shut up!" Oliver grumbled but laughed anyways.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You and Oliver both arrived at the front of the Fat Lady's portrait who was not pleased to see the both of you out this late.
"You two again." she grumbled "Do you both realize how late it is? Where have you two been?"
Oliver rubbed the back of his neck "Well, we have a Quidditch match tomo—"
The Fat Lady groaned as she cut Oliver off.
"You and your Quidditch obsession." she turned to you "I have no idea how you're still with this boyfriend of yours."
Your ears turned red "He's not my—"
"Whatever." the Fat Lady said impatiently "I've got somewhere I need to be. Password?" she asked.
You muttered the password and the portrait swung open. Once you and Oliver were inside it swung shut with a heavy thud.
"Geez, looks like someone's on her period.." Oliver mumbled, earning a laugh from you.
"I mean, she is right. You and your Quidditch obsession." you said as you both walked to the couches, plopping down.
Oliver snorted "Atleast I'm not the one asking passwords when she knows damn well that I've been here for years."
"It's just necessary, Oliver."
"Yeah right."
Silence followed after that, as the both of you were already tired. You both just sat there, staring off into nothingness when Oliver cleared his throat. You looked at him.
"I really wonder that too sometimes." he said.
You raised a brow "Wonder what?"
He shrugged "How you're still my friend even though I'm obsessed with Quidditch. I'm surprised you haven't pelted me for going on and on about Quidditch. Or always cancelling our study plans for Quidditch. Or always having to ask you for notes because of Quidditch. I just realized that whenever I'm with you Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch is the only thing I talk about."
You laughed softly "I don't mind... I like it when you talk..." you say as you fidget with your shirt.
Oliver raised a brow, and in a thicker accent he said: "Really? When I talk? Why is it you like it when I talk?" he asked teasingly.
You gulped "Quidditch ofcourse. That's always what's coming out of that mouth of yours." you lied. "And you know me. My family's just like you. I wouldn't be surprised if one day they decided they wanted to put me up for adoption and have you instead."
Your whole family, also Quidditch maniacs, your brothers were all Quidditch stars. Your father was a retired player, your mother played as a Chaser when she went to Hogwarts. That left only you, you never found much love to play for it, only to watch and know about it.
Oliver laughed "Oh shut up. They definitely love you. You and your strategies." he rested his hair back on the couch "Y'know.. I'm glad I have ya." he said softly.
You looked at him and he continued "I never expected you to stay, but here you are."
You bit your lip and laughed "I'm surprised you even make time for me despite your schedule."
He shrugged "How couldn't I? You're practically one of the most important people in my life now. I can't loose you."
That caught you off guard as you felt your heart thump. He looked back at you with this smile on his face as he sat up straight and just stared at you.
The room was silent except for the crackle off fire...
...And until someone behind you cleared their throat.
You both jolted and whipped your heads behind you to see Percy Weasley standing in his night gown, hands on his hips and a frown on his face.
"It's late." he spat "Where have you two been?" before either of you could reply he just shook his head and pointed to the stairs. "Dorms, both of you."
You and Oliver rolled your eyes as you stood up.
"Geez Perce... It's our last year, cut us some slack." you mumble.
"No, I'm Head Boy." He says as if that explains everything.
"Ofcourse, Percy. We know. We've known for years." Oliver mumbled as you three headed for the stairs.
You were gonna climb the stairs towards the girls dorms when Oliver caught your wrist, making you flinch.
"See you after lunch tomorrow." he said.
"I'll be there 20 minutes before the game." you said.
Oliver smiled and behind him Percy cleared his throat. Oliver let go and followed Percy up the stairs to the boys dorms. You went on your way to your dorm.
You plopped on your bed and replayed the day in your head. A lot has happened, and it's got your mind swirling with thoughts. You turned in your bed, trying to sleep, so that you can already go on with tomorrow.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
It was almost time for the game.
You had rushed out of the Great Hall as fast as you can, wanting to get to the team tent before the game started.
Rushing towards the pitch, you saw students chattering and laughing as they were buzzing with excitement for the game. You could already hear bets being placed.
You weaved through the crowd until you were at the front of the tent. You barged in and was immediately greeted by the sight of the Gryffindor Quidditch team preparing. George was putting on his gloves while Fred made some batting motions in the corner. The girls were tying their hair while Harry was stretching and doing warm ups.
As for Oliver, he was pacing on the middle of the floor, muttering to himself.
You approached the team and gave them a warm smile. Oliver hasn't noticed you yet. You approached him and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from his pacing.
"Keep that up and you'll end up burning a hole through the floor." you teased.
He stopped in his tracks and looked at you. He smiled. You didn't anticipate what happened next.
He pulled you into a hug and your breath caught in your throat. After a few seconds he pulled away.
"About time." he mumbled.
You just blinked up at him as everyone stared at you both. George and Fred wolf-whistled.
"Public Display of Affection I see?" Fred taunted.
Oliver rolled his eyes "Can't a man hug his best friend for goodluck?"
Best Friend. That sent a pang through your chest.
You snapped out of it and turned to the team "Now's not the time for that." you grinned at them "Now's the time to kick Slytherin's ass."
Everyone erupted in cheers and you looked at Oliver who nodded and then turned to the team.
"Alright, lads. Let's talk strategy."
The next minutes you and Oliver explained the plan to the team and how to avoid the tampered Bludgers and how to confuse the opoosing team (with Fred and George making a Mum and Dad commentary ofcourse). You were gonna start giving them a motivational speech when you heard Lee's voice announce: "10 minutes till the match! Goodluck teams! Especially to Gryffindo— Alright! Sorry, Professor. Goodluck equally to both our teams!" he grumbled.
You sighed "Guess no speech this time guys." you chuckled.
George clapped you on the back "It's alright Mum, don't waste your breath on us." his eyes drifted to Oliver. "Why not give Dad a speech instead?" he grinned as the team erupted in laughter.
"We'll be out on the field now. Don't take too long!" Alicia said in a sing-song voice.
And before you could protest or even say anything, the team filed out of the tent. The twins gave Oliver a big thumbs up. Before leaving Fred yelled: "Maybe give him a kiss too while you're at it! For good luck!"
You felt your face burn as you watch them walk away, leaving you and Oliver alone. You turned to him and saw that he was already as red as a tomato.
He looked at you "Sorry about them.." he muttered.
You just laughed awkwardly as you took a step closer towards him and fixed his robes. "They've been doing this for years and you still say sorry?"
He didn't look at you when you were so close, he just looked away, averting his gaze. "Yeah, I know. Still sorry for it though."
You shoved him playfully and laugh "You better get going to your children, Wood."
He looked at you and smirked "You mean our children?" he said in a deep tone, accent thick as he turned his head to face you.
You blinked at his words and rolled your eyes "Oh shut up."
He leaned in close to you and your breath hitched. He was close enough to you, you felt his breath on your ear.
"But I thought you liked it when I talked?"
You froze entirely at his words. Your heart was thumping in chest, butterflies erupted in your stomach.
He pulled away and looked you in the eyes, smirking.
"I'll see you later." he said as he grabbed his broom and left.
Once you were sure he was gone, you collapsed on the floor, hands on your face as you tried to process what happened.
Only problem was, you couldn't even process what happened.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"5 minutes till game! The Gryffindor folk are looking lovely today! Look at Alicia she looks so— ouch! Ugh, fine fine, sorry Professor McGonnagal!"
You walked up to the stands and found the Gryffindor people all in one spot. Hermoine spotted you and waved, Ron beside her nodded to you as you greeted them hello.
"What'd I miss?" you asked.
"Nothing much yet." Seamus said from beside Ron. "But Madam Hooch is already repeating the rules to the players *cough* Flint *cough*"
You laughed and turned your attention to the players who were now mounted on their brooms. The pitch was dead silent, then Madam Hooch blew her whistle.
Cheers and hollers erupted from the entire pitch as the players soared through the air.
Your breath caught in your throat as Gryffindor took possession of the Quaffle. Then, the real game began.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"Keeper Wood blocks Chaser Flint's shot! Suck it Slytherin! I mean— Better luck next time!"
You bit your finger as the game went on. Gryffindor and Slytherin were tied, both having 70 points. There was still no sign of the Snitch, but Harry and Draco were already swooping around finding it while taunting each other.
The girls were holding the Quaffle, passing it to each other where the Slytherins couldn't reach. They weaved around, confusing the opposing team. You let out a sigh of relief. Your plan was working.
But your relief didn't last long.
Your attention turned to the twins, who were laughing like maniacs as they hit the Bludgers. George was getting ready to take aim for one headed his way, when suddenly the Bludger changed course and charged to the left. Your eyes widened as it weaved around the girls but not actually targeting them. You gripped Hermoine's arm as she gripped yours too. You both figured it'd go straight to Harry.
Fred thought the same too and immediately went to Harry's side, ready for the Bludger to hit... But when it came near Harry it just zipped past him and straight to...
"OLIVER!" you screamed, as the Bludger hit him in his stomach and he let out a loud guttural yell. He tipped off his broom, which was still suspended in the air. Before he could fall completely his hand caught the broom's shaft.
"Ouch! Gryffindor's Captain got hit in the gut! Those Bludgers aren't showing any mercy!" yelled Lee.
You saw Marcus and the other Slytherins laughing as Oliver dangled from his broom. Another Bludger flew towards him but this time he managed to get on his broom and dodged it. George zipped towards Oliver and stood guard infront of him as Oliver gripped his stomach in pain.
"That's cheating!" you heard Ron yell.
"Look! Harry's found the Snitch!" Neville shouted as he pointed to the two Seekers who were both diving for the glint of gold.
You held your breath as you saw the Snitch dive down. Both Seekers dove to it, but Harry was quicker. He reached his hand out to take it. And then...
"HARRY POTTER'S GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR'S WON!" Lee yelled as Harry raised his hand triumphantly, the Snitch in his grasp.
Cheers erupted from the pitch as the Gryffindors ran down the stands and towards their players, who all flew down to meet with their housemates.
Everyone congratulated the players. But you ran straight to Oliver before anyone else. He was clutching his stomach and limping as he walked.
He grinned at you as he tackled you into a hug.
"Your plan worked!" he laughed triumphantly.
You pulled away and looked him over. Your eyes drifted to his stomach, which he was clutching hard.
"Your stomach— The Bludger—" you stuttered.
"I'm fine."
"No you're not."
He just laughed which suddenly turned to a cough. He leaned on you for support and you wrapped your arm around his waist.
"Told you." you muttered
He shrugged "My bad..."
The Gryffindor team rushed to you as they whooped and hollered.
"Slytherin just got their arses whooped!" Fred hollered as he and George took you and hoisted you up on their shoulders.
"Take that Slytherin! You don't have a better strategist than we do!"
You laughed softly "Alright alright that's enough! Put me down!"
When your feet were once again on the ground you turned to Oliver who was beaming at you.
"What?" you laughed as you walked to his side and helped support him walk.
"Nothin'. You're just cute when you laugh like that."
Cheers and teases erupted from the team.
"Get a room you two!" Katie yelled.
You scoffed "Shut up, all of you." You looked at Oliver "Now, let's get you to the Hospital Wing."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Madam Pomfrey wasn't surprised when she saw you and Oliver. She directed you both to the vacant bed and went straight to work on Oliver's stomach.
Once she was done she said he needed to stay in the Hospital wing for a week. The Bludger hit him harder than it had to, breaking a few ribs which needed bed rest for them to heal. Madam Pomfrey then went to go check on the other students and left you and Oliver alone.
"A week!" you exclaimed. "Oh I'll get those Slytherins! They tampered too much with the Bludger!"
Oliver shrugged as he put a hand on your arm "Hey. Calm down, the game is done. We've won and now we're on top for the House Cup." he smiled. "All thanks to you."
"Rubbish. Then it's all thanks to me that you're in for a week long bed rest?"
He shook his head "I don't blame you for that. It's not like you were the one who enchanted those Bludgers."
You didn't say anything after that, neither did Oliver.
Your skin tingled as his hand still rested on your arm. His thumb brushing your skin absentmindedly.
"What'd I do without you?" he suddenly spoke.
You looked up at him and he was looking at you with this soft expression on his face.
You felt your face heat up as you both stared into each other's eyes. His eyes flickered to your lips before looking back at your eyes. You moistened your lips without meaning to, then Oliver leaned closer.
Your eyes widened as he closed the gap between you, lips to lips.
He had kissed you.
You kissed back, melting into his touch. It felt surreal... It was everything you've ever wanted. You had been inlove with your best friend for years, and now.... Best friend?
Oliver jolted at the realization and pulled away.
You blinked at Oliver in confusion as he looked away from you.
"What's wrong?" you asked.
He gulped "You need to go."
You blinked at him in shock "What?"
"Go." Oliver urged, voice low. Accent thick as steel.
You stared at him dumbfounded. He was the one that kissed you and he was the one who wanted you to just leave?
"Oliver..." you started. But he wouldn't meet your eyes. You felt your heart swell with hurt as you abruptly stood up, chair scraping the floor.
"Fine." you spat as you turned and left him.
You bumped into Fred and George on your way out and they grinned at you.
"Hey Mum, how's Dad— Hey wait! Where're you going?" George yelled after you.
You didn't stop. You fast-walked towards Gryffindor tower and didn't stop when you finally reach the Fat Lady. You hurriedly yell the password and she opened the painting, stunned. Alicia and the girls were sitting on the couches.
"Hey! What happened? How's Oli—?" Katie yelled but you just went straight to your dorm.
You shut the door and collapsed. You felt tears prick the corner of your eyes.
You were so confused. Oliver has been acting strange lately. The weird flirting, the stares and now... he kissed you.
It wasn't a lie if you said that you've felt mixed signals from him from the start. Sometimes he's sweet and flirty with you, not the behavior a person would do to a best friend. But then sometimes he'd be all friendly and not romantic. Who wouldn't be torn?
You just yelled in confusion as you huffed. You were sick of this. You've always had the question in your head about you and Oliver, "What are we?" you'd ask yourself, not finding the answer everytime you tried.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Oliver ignored you for a week.
Which was total bull. Because you were pretty sure you were the one who was supposed to be ignoring him. After all, he was the one who kissed you and he had the audacity to ignore you?
You tried to visit him the day after the incident, but Madam Pomfrey stopped you and sadly said that Oliver didn't want to see you at the moment.
You looked for the team but their attitude towards you changed. You asked them on how Oliver was and they just blankly told you he was fine. But there was tension, a sad tension between them.
You pulled the twins aside and interrogated them. They looked uncomfortable but caved in.
"Oliver told us what happened." George said.
"He said it was a mistake." Fred added.
You felt your mouth run dry.
"But we told him not to think that it was. Because it's obvious you return the same feelings for him. He's just having a hard time wrestling it in his mind." George explained.
"You might have noticed that he can be flirty sometimes, yeah? And sometimes he can be kind of a snob. It's kind of our fault for that... We told him to shoot his shot already because it's clear that you like him. But Oliver is thicker than a tree trunk. He says that you're the one giving out mixed signals. And now that he's kissed you he's fully convinced that he's ruined your friendship." Fred said.
You blinked at them "I'm the one giving out mixed signals?"
"We know. It's stupid really. But honestly, you're the only girl Oliver's ever had eyes on. He's so awkward, it's killing us." George groaned.
Your heart raced faster in your chest at George's words.
Fred slapped George on the back of his head and he yelped.
"What the hell, Fred!"
"You wanker." Fred hissed. "You weren't supposed to say that."
"Oh come on! It's so painfully obvious! I'm getting sick of this!" he turned to you. "The only reason he lets us call you Mum and Dad is because he likes it. Even if he won't admit it, we already know that you both are sickeningly in love with each other! We've been trying to get you both together for years!"
You couldn't believe the shit that was coming out of George's mouth.
"So what now? Is he gonna ignore me forever?" you said in a small tone.
The twins looked at each other and sighed.
"Honestly?" George said sadly "That's what we think."
Fred thought for a moment.
"Unless..." Fred said with a smirk.
You and George raised a brow at him.
"We corner him and get him to talk."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Oliver had finally been released from the Hospital Wing.
You knew when you saw him enter the Great Hall for lunch. You locked eyes but he immediately looked away and went to sit with Percy Weasley.
"Get a load of this guy..." Fred mumbled as he stabbed his chicken tenders.
You just rolled your eyes and went back to eating your mushroom soup. But it was clear you were bothered, and George noticed.
"Hey, we'll help you talk to him. Don't worry." he said with a smile.
Fred laughed "Yeah, we really want our divorced parents back together." he batted his eyes lashes.
You laughed and slapped his arm softly, but you were still bothered "Thanks guys, I owe you."
Days passed by and Oliver still was on his snobbery plan.
He walked past you in corridors. Only greeted the twins and ignored you when you three were together. Everytime you both were in close proximity he'd bolt out of there right away.
You were getting restless... Fred and George had finally come up with a plan, but they said they needed more time for it to work. You on the other hand didn't have the patience anymore.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You walked towards the Quidditch pitch. It was a Wednesday, and you knew that Oliver practices on Wednesday afternoons.
You saw him fly down as he wiped his head. He turned and saw you walking towards him. His eyes widened and he turned away, walking towards the changing rooms.
"Oliver!" you called out as you raced after him.
He kept walking.
"Oliver Wood!"
Still walking.
You ran to catch up to him "Oliver Duncan fucking Wood!" you yelled so loud he flinched and stopped in his tracks.
You slowed down and stopped beside him.
"What'dya want?" he mumbled, looking away from you.
This time you didn't answer and just dragged him into the changing room and cornered him there.
"What the fuck, Oliver?" you hissed in his face, he didn't answer.
"You ignored me, for weeks. With no reason or explanation at all!"
"You even kissed me for Godric's sake! And you straight up ignored me?" you yelled as you shoved at his chest. "Be a man, Oliver! Spit it out! Tell me the fucking reason why you kissed me all of a sudden and resort to ignoring me! Tell me!" you kept going as you felt tears prick your eyes. "What? You can babble on about Quidditch but when it comes to a fucking explanation you bitch out?" you shook your head.
Oliver just pressed his back against the wall, biting his tongue and not looking at you.
"What happened to that babbling mouth of yours huh? Not so tough now? God you're such a coward! Spit it out—!"
"I'M INLOVE WITH YOU!" he snapped as your eyes widened, noticing the tears on the corner of his eyes. "I'VE BEEN INLOVE WITH YOU FOR YEARS! YOU! MY BEST FRIEND!" he yelled in a strangled voice.
Your words died down in your throat as you watched Oliver as he went on a full blown rage confessing everything to you.
"For Merlin's sake! I've been inlove with you ever since bloody 3rd year! You have no idea how much my heart aches for you! What I feel for you! You're the only girl that has made me feel this way! You have no idea what you do to me!"
"I feel like falling off my broom whenever you watch us practice. I feel like it's just the two of us on the world when you laugh. When you smile it makes my heart beat faster than the Snitch has ever flown. The way you talk makes me feel calm and at peace and there has never been a day that was bad whenever I'm with you! And when the team teases us, calling us Mum and Dad? It drives me crazy! Godric, I probably sound stupid yammering on about this—" he continued talking as he paced around the changing room.
You were too stunned to speak as you just watched him pour all of his feelings out infront of you. You couldn't help but smile and feel tears of joy pricking through your eyes. You put a hand on your mouth, suppressing a laugh as you watched Oliver go on. It made your heart go haywire just listening to his voice.
"—And then just after the game I had the sudden urge to kiss you right there and then in the middle of the pitch! Even when we were alone in the tent strategizing, the plan wasn't even going inside my head because all I wanted to do was kiss you! You and those lips of yours! You drive me mad! And now I was so stupid for kissing you and making you leave because I was scared that I misread everything and I thought that you actually liked me but some part of me said that maybe you didn't. So being the coward I was I pulled away and fucking asked you to leave. Like who does that?"
You bit your lip. He's really cute when he's all riled up like this. You thought to yourself.
He ran a hand through his short brown hair and continued without pausing "And then I ignore you because I was too scared to face you because of my goddamn stupidity. I wanted to approach you, I really did. But fuck I'm not smooth with the girls like Fred and George! Even though they helped me multiple times I just couldn't do what they wanted me to do because just looking at you makes my brain go haywire. Not only that—"
Oliver stopped when he looked at you. He furrow his eyebrows as you tried to stifle your laughter.
"What's funny?" he demanded, turning to you. "I pour my heart out to you and you're laughing there?" he groaned as he covered his face. "I'm so stupid."
You let out your laugh, but you weren't making fun of him. You were just overwhelmed with happiness because The Oliver Wood just confessed he felt the same way to you. Fucking finally.
You stepped towards him as you removed his hands from his face. He looked at you and his eyes widened when he saw your cheeks streaked with tears, but your mouth with a soft smile.
"Why'd you stop?" you laughed "I liked it when you ran that mouth of yours."
He just blinked at you and gulped. He reached for your face and wiped your tears away from your cheeks.
He looked you in the eyes with this soft expression.
"I like you." he said finally. His hands cupping your cheeks. "Merlin, I don't like you. I love you. So so much."
He rested his forehead on yours as you placed a hand on his shoulder, the other cupping the hand that was cupping your cheek.
You looked at him and smiled. "I love you too, Oliver Wood."
He let out a sigh of relief as he laughed softly and hugged you, tight. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and you slung your arms over his shoulders. You both stayed like that for a while, and you felt Oliver shiver. You burrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
Was he... crying?
"Oliver, are you... Crying?"
He sniffled and hugged you tighter "...No?"
You laughed softly and pulled away, his hands still rested on your waist. He had tears on his face and he looked like a baby. He was adorable.
You laugh softly and wiped his face "Godric, look at you. You're adorable."
"I'm just happy that I didn't make a fool out of myself and you actually like me too." he chuckled as his thumb traced circles on your hips.
"Why wouldn't I?" you said as your hand played with his hair. "You're... different from any guy I've ever met. You're passionate, loyal, you never take shit from anybody. And you and your Quidditch obsession? It's adorable and admirable."
You felt him squeeze your hips a little tighter.
He looked at you, gazing into your eyes before flicking his gaze to your lips. You took a deep breath as he leaned closer, noses touching. He paused, waiting for your consent, when you closed the gap and kissed him.
He melted into the kiss. Squeezing you tighter and pulling you closer to him. Your fingers intertwined in his hair as leaned your head back for a more comfortable position.
You felt his tongue swipe on your lower lip for access, and you obliged, opening your mouth so that your tongues fought for dominance.
He backed you up against the wall and his hands trailed over your body. One hand snaked down to squeeze at your ass, while the other snaked upward to cup your jaw. He breaks the kiss on your lips and went on to plant sloppy kisses on your jaw, down to your neck, and then to your collarbone. Your hands lay on his shoulder as you whimper at the feeling.
You feel him smirk against your skin as his hand explored under your shirt, grazing his rough hands on your soft skin.
He stopped for a moment and looked up at you, already breathless. "Are you okay with this?"
You nod desperately, wanting more. Oliver smiled and went back to placing kisses on your neck, which was sure to leave a mark.
You throw your head back, and luckily Oliver's free hand was there to hold it to keep you from hitting the wall. The hand under your shirt went ahead to cup at your breasts. You let out a deep sigh as you bit your lip, preventing any lewd sound from coming out of your mouth.
"Wanna hear ya'." you heard Oliver mutter as he now tugged your sleeve down to pepper your shoulder with kisses.
"W-what if someone passes by and hears?" you whine.
"No one comes here at this time."
"Oliver..."
He was panting already "Need you" he said in between breaths "So bad."
You were already breathless, and Oliver showed no signs of stopping. You felt his hand snake down to your thighs and was about to hike up your skirt, when suddenly—
"Oi! Oliver! You in here, mate?" you heard a voice from outside the changing room.
You squeaked in surprise as you shoved Oliver away from your wet neck. He looked at the door, surprised.
"Oliver!" yelled Fred from outside the changing room.
Oliver cursed under his breath "Shit, I didn't lock the door!"
You scrambled away from him as you hid behind the nearest curtain.
Oliver hastily tried to fix himself just before George and Fred Weasley burst through the door.
"There you are, why weren't you answering?" George asked.
Fred looked him up and down "And what... what happened to you? You look all sweaty and wet and breathless."
Oliver gulped as he tried to stand up straight. "Push ups."
George raised a brow "Push ups?"
Oliver nodded frantically.
"You're acting strange, mate." Fred snickered
"Am not" Oliver hissed
"Are too"
"Holy Merlin— Did— Did you make out with someone?" George asked, shocked.
Fred looked at Oliver again and his jaw dropped "No way, mate. His lip's are all swollen! And he's all red!"
Oliver's heart thumped in his chest. "What are you talking about you dickheads? Go away! I'm busy."
George and Fred raised a brow "Busy with someone."
"I'm not!"
Then suddenly, the color drained from Fred and George's faces.
"Oh bloody hell... You don't like... her, anymore?" Fred asked.
Georges expression shifted to disappointment "After years of everything you make out with some rando?"
Oliver scoffed "It's none of your business!"
"Oh it's definitely our business! Do you have any idea how devastated she was?" Fred yelled.
Oliver rolled his eyes, You've got the wrong idea. he thought to himself.
But Fred and George weren't gonna take shit.
"We're gonna find that girl."
Oliver's face went pale "Wait, what?"
The twins walked around the changing room. "Yohoo! Mystery lady! We know you're in here. We just wanna talk!"
You pressed your hands on your mouth. You've just been inside that curtain, listening and suppressing any noise you could make. You got to hand it to the twins. They were the best.
Fred and George looked everywhere as Oliver palmed his face. "Could you two just go?"
"No." the twins said in unison.
Then, George spotted your feet under the curtain. He looked at Fred who nodded.
"Alright fine." Fred said.
Oliver looked at them, dumbfounded. "Really?"
"Yeahhhh." George said.
Oliver breathed a sigh of relief.
"After we check behind that curtain!" George shouted as you stifled a yelp.
Fred lunged to the curtain and yanked it open.
"WAIT—!" Oliver yelled.
"AHA! Found you—!" Fred's words died in his throat as his widened eyes saw yours.
George's jaw dropped as Oliver wanted to die right there and then.
"...Hi?" you smiled.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Fred and George's brains weren't working when you and Oliver finally explained to them all that has happened.
They sat in silence for a while. Until Fred broke the silence and yelled: "THEY'RE BACK! MY PARENTS ARE BACK!"
He came up to you and Oliver, almost weeping, as he pulled you into a bone crushing hug.
You gasped for air as you frantically patted on Fred's back "Fred— Fred get off— Seriously, are you in 5th year or the 1st?"
Oliver tried to pry away "Weasley! You're re-breaking my ribs! Get— Off—!"
"Never." Fred smirked as he hugged tighter.
George laughed and joined the hug.
"Guys I swear to Merlin, get off!" Oliver grunted.
The twins pulled away.
"Wait till the others hear about this! They'll be thril—"
CRUNCH.
The four of you looked at the door and saw Harry and the girls peeking through. They hid again once you saw them.
"Harry why did you blow our cover?!" Katie hissed.
"Is it my fault that there's a twig there?!" Harry exclaimed.
Oliver groaned as you laughed.
"Get in here, all of you. No point in hiding." Oliver grumbled.
Soon the whole changing room was cramped with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, who were all cheering as if they'd won the lottery.
"So great to have you both back." Harry said as he hugged you both. "It was so nerve wracking watching you both for weeks!"
Angelina popped up beside Harry and nudged him "You owe me 10 Galleons."
Harry muttered angrily under his breath as he dug through his pocket, but he had this stupid smile plastered on his face.
"Alright alright!" Oliver shouted as he put a hand around your waist. "Get back to the Common Room. We'll meet you guys there. If Filch or McGonnagal finds us all here in the men's changing room we're toast." he grumbled in annoyance.
George nudged him "You're just mad we cock-blocked you."
Oliver turned a deep shade of red "I am not!"
"Your face says otherwise" Fred observed.
You stifled a laugh.
"Alright guys let's go back." Angelina said as she ushered the others out. "Let's give Mum and Dad some private time."
The others laughed and teased and made smooching sounds as they left the room. Leaving you and Oliver.
Once they were gone Oliver turned to you again and kissed you.
You giggled and placed your hands on his chest.
"We should get going." you chided.
"10 minutes." he said hungrily as he snaked his hand up your skirt again "I wanna finish off where we started."
He was leaning in when you both heard noise outside the door.
"Ew!" You heard Alicia exclaim.
"Shut up you dolt!" You heard Angelina hiss.
Harry groaned "You're so noisy! They'll kill us!"
Oliver groaned as he buried his head in your shoulder. You laughed.
"I swear to Merlin, I'll make you all work your arses off here on the pitch for a whole day!" Oliver yelled and you heard them scurry away.
"Are we ever gonna be uninterrupted?" he groaned.
You ran your finger through his hair "Maybe, but not now. We should go back too."
He looked at you and smirked before kissing you and peppering kisses across your face. He paused and looked at you.
