i found this when i was cleaning out my notes app and it’s definitely rough, definitely unfinished, don’t think there’s any trigger warnings on this other than probably bad grammar, inaccurate harry potter lore, i use the word fuck and the reader has hazel eyes and no name or y/n
Synopsis: muggle!reader who raises Harry (Jily still dies and the chosen one remains but he’s loved and still raised as a muggle)
She’s a muggle and has a looooong past with Remus from the marauders days to now (lets pretend they met in a coffee shop or a record store or whatever backstory you want to make up because i didn’t plan that) and he’s the one who somehow convinces them to eventually give Harry to her to raise bc she’s always wanted a child or smth heartbreaking like THEY couldn’t have kids but she’d for sure raise his best friend’s baby.
——————
He knocks loud enough to wake her up in the middle of the night, she rushes to the door in her robe and slippers. Whipping the door open, ready to yell at him, she falls flat when she sees the broken look on his face and the baby wrapped up in his arms.
“What happened?” She whispers, quickly pulling her lover inside and shutting the door tight behind her, locking it instinctively.
“James and Lily are dead.” Remus spoke in a low tone, looking over at her. He trusted her with his entire soul, his whole mind body and soul had been devoted to her for so long.
Her heart clenched. She had only met the young couple a handful of times, but she had gotten to know them well. She had hosted dinners in her small flat for the friend group, it was a shame she’d never see the lovesick duo again.
“I’m sorry, honey.” She moved over to his side, guiding him gently to sit down on the couch. “Does this have to do with that thing we’re not supposed to talk about?” She knew about his magic, it wasn’t like he hid it from her. But with the state of the wizarding world, it was better that she didn’t know much.
He’d rarely get to see her again over the next decade, only getting to see her once every couple of months. She’d give Harry an extra kiss on the forehead and slip a candy into his hand to bribe him into behaving and staying put in his room before letting the lycanthrope inside, spending the next few hours wrapped up in each other’s arms, fucking, talking, listening to each other’s breaths, then fucking again. Thankful for his magic, he had cast a silencing spell around the room, trapping her sweet sounds in the small room only for him to hear.
One month before Harry’s 11th birthday, Remus had appeared on her doorstep right after dinner. He looked much older now, though not yet 40. She still looked at him with stars in her eyes, despite the anger blazing behind them. Not directed towards him, of course, but Harry had recently discovered he had “powers” and was making her life much more difficult.
“Thank god you’re here! I’m losing my mind. Is my hair still green?” She had shown Harry pictures of his parents over the years, her favorite being a one of the couple, Remus, Sirius, and herself in the middle, taken a few Christmases before he was born. She introduced them all as his uncles, though had to lie and explain that his uncles lived overseas so they couldn’t visit. It was all to keep his identity hidden, but he was getting older, and had questions.
Now was a good a time as any for him to meet Uncle Moony, she guessed.
“Harry James Potter! Stop floating this instant!” She squealed, her hair was in fact still a pretty shade of green, and Remus thought it matched the flecks in her hazel eyes. He looked up to see Harry floating atop a couch cushion, and hey, he was at least proud of the lad for taking safety precautions. Noticing the new, yet familiarly scarred, face in the room, Harry ungracefully lowered himself to the ground.
“Ahh, I see he’s found the book of mischief spells I must’ve left behind.” Remus had a slightly smug expression on his face as he looked down at his old friend, “We’ll discuss it later, my love.”
“I’m beginning to think you should’ve told him about this a long time ago! You’re both going to give me a heart attack, and I’m not even 30 yet!” She sent a glare towards Remus when he opened his mouth to make the comment that no, she is in fact 31 this year, but he’s smart enough to shut his mouth again.
don’t know if there will be a part 2 because tbh i was in active addiction when i started writing fanfiction
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remus lupin x muggle!reader (who's a Tarot reader). wc: 1,2k. semi-modern!au. no voldermort apparently. warnings: some curse words, mentions of a spirit. short but sweet!
When I heard the echo of footsteps in the hallway and a jolly tune whistled softly, I knew the session had to be finished. Usually, by the time Remus would get home, my last session would’ve wrapped up over half an hour ago, giving me time to collect myself and tidy the mess the studio fell inevitably into. Today, though, was different. The last client of the day, Tilly, a twenty-four year old girl who believed her destiny was to spend the rest of her life alone, was more agitated than she normally would be. A shook up Tilly was, by no means, anything new; yet, this altered shift to her already altered personality was brought on, surely, by the upcoming Holidays. This time of the year has, definitely, a way to get into people’s heads.
I hand Tilly the last tissue of the box at the same time I’m standing up and putting the cards away. Some might call it multitasking, I call it “telling my client they must leave”. She dries her tears and murmurs how sorry she is that this took up so much of my time. ‘Nonsense, don’t worry about it’, I murmur back like the complete loser I am, because no amount of work has ever made me move on from my people-pleaser tendencies. She did, in fact, take up a lot of my time, more than what the usual session costs; I should have been ready to go by now.
I open the door to the studio and cough loudly and a little bit more than necessary, but it is a precaution I take every time I have a client leaving and Remus is around. The last thing I need is for one of them to see him using his wand. They might believe in what my cards can tell them about their love lives or job opportunities and new horizons, but I don’t want to have my clients obliviated.
Discreetly, I look around the flat only to catch Remus putting away the groceries he must’ve got on his way home using his hands, thank God. He looks up wearing a comfortable smile on his face and waves at us. Before Tilly can even utter a word, I take her arm and lead her to the door, charging her more than what I usually do. Without complaining, she slides the bills on my hand.
“Is that your…?” Tilly starts to ask before I interrupt her by opening the door and smiling a little bit too much to be genuine.
“Goodbye, Tilly. See you next time!” I shut the door before she could even realise she’s out of the flat.
Making my way into the kitchen, I jump onto the counter, swinging my legs while I grab a biscuit from one of the jars. Remus is finishing with the groceries, but he’s now using his wand. I admire the fridge opening at the same time some dairies jump from the brown bag and float around the kitchen until they are neatly stored inside the fridge. Next, the lid of the cookie jar by my side starts hovering over it while more cookies enter and fill it; the crumbling of the paper is heard for a second and then it falls into the bin. I look back towards Remus, but instead there is a bag of the sweetest candy floating in front of my face, which immediately lights up. My hands try to grab it, but I’m a second too late and the bag is already flying away from me.
“You know, that’s not a nice thing to do to your non-magical girlfriend, you bastard.”
“Well, what you did to your client is also not a nice thing to do.” Ugh, the nerve. “Also, you’re not non-magical.”
“Am I not, in your world’s term, a simple muggle?”
“Yeah, well, my world can be magical but not updated on muggles. You’re not, not in the least, simple.” The final groceries are put away as Remus approaches me, settling one of his hands on my thigh, climbing till it finally rests on my waist, and the other on my cheek, tilting my head upwards so he can see my face. “That’s not what I was saying, though. You,” stressing and stretching the last sound, “are going to be clientless one day if you keep slamming the door on their faces.”
There’s an unimpressed look on my face, probably from just trying to let him talk and not attack his lips after not seeing him for the entirety of the afternoon. I like the way his voice sounds. It makes it harder to concentrate.
“That look would get you into Slytherin in a second.”
“Your magical world should upgrade in all senses, then. Cannot believe they sort you into houses and there’s a whole rivalry round that. Fuckin’ cliché.” He laughs. Next thing I know, the sight of him drawing his lower lip between his teeth makes me dizzy. I hook my arms round his neck, playing with a few strands of his hair while I sit straight and get closer to his face.
“Missed you,” I whisper.
Remus furrows his eyebrows, incredulous look on his eyes and a teasing smile appearing on his face. “Since when do you say ‘missed you’?”
“Since I’ve just spent the whole afternoon listening to a girl that reminded me too much of myself in my twenties. I hated seeing everyone from my friend group with a girlfriend or getting married to the boy they’ve been with since high school while I was alone or getting ghosted by asshats.”
“I wasn’t much of a dating guy during my Hogwarts years either,” Remus shrugs his shoulders.
“Still, you were learning fricking magic, flying round in your brooms, making love potions. That has to count for something!” My hands stop playing with his hair to rest into their designated place, his back. From under his festive red and green sweater, I draw circles with the tips of my fingers. “Meanwhile, I was learning Tarot and had a spirit or- or something knock over my books every night.”
“A spirit?”
“Yeah, did I never tell you? Had to call the Supreme Sorceresses to get rid of it.”
“Let me guess, your mum and your aunt?”
“Who else?”
He laughs again, and Remus is sure he will not get tired of his own laugh; not that it is related to his ego or something, but he loves knowing his laughs are a result of her presence. What else is he supposed to do around her other than laugh? She’s joyful and full of mirth, moving through life with a wicked pack of cards and no wand, creating and leaving magic everywhere she goes in her own way. He knew he would follow her to whatever her mind or those cards would take her.
He bumps her nose with hers and when she closes her eyes with a smile lightning up her face in anticipation of their lips brushing against each other, he knows he has her. He will have her for as long as she’ll have him.
I’ve been working on a fic pairing Fre Weasley x muggle!reader inspired on “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” From ABBA for three years now and now I can tell you… I am almost finishing chapter one. lol
Our Dirty Blood. Remus Lupin/Muggle Riddle Character
Bell Riddle inherits her grandparents house during the summer of 1994. One night after a usual day, she finds two strange men in her home with a horrific baby creature that the men call My Lord. It turns out this Lord needs her blood for some kind of ritual that will bring him back to life. How will she handle the truth that her long-lost uncle is an evil wizard? How will she handle it when she finds herself in a magic school under the protection of the Order of the Pheonix? How will she handle falling in love with a werewolf who has taken it upon himself to protect her?
Chapter 1: The Old House
The Riddle House stood tall and proud on the August night. As usual, the house was dim and hardly lit. The dark past of the house seemed to be a constant reminder to Bell Riddle.
Bell was the current owner of the large house, having inherited it from her father, whose name was Christopher Riddle, who had recently moved away. Her father’s parents, Tom Riddle and Cecilia Riddle, were killed only a few weeks after he was born. Along with his paternal grandparents, they all died in the very house Bell now occupied.
Bell's father was found the next day unharmed in his cot, sleeping as if it were any other day, as if his family had not been killed. The cause of their deaths was always a mystery, but the police put it down to heart failure. Her father had ended up being taken in by a family friend and was raised with all the love a child needs. When he was around eighteen, he decided to visit The Riddle House, as he owned it after his parents’ deaths.
The house had basically remained untouched for those eighteen years, and when Bell's father went, he ended up finding multiple letters addressed to his father from a woman called Merope. In the letter, this Merope woman was begging Tom Riddle to take her back after she had found out that she was pregnant. The letters continued throughout Merope’s pregnancy when they stopped, and the final letter was from an orphanage called Wool’s Orphanage explaining that Merope had died while in childbirth and that her son was with them. Her father had spent years after finding the letters hunting down his long-lost older brother but to no avail. The Wool’s Orphanage had explained that the young boy had gone to go to a boarding school for gifting children when he was eleven. Bells Father went to nearly every boarding school in the country but could not find any traces of his brother. Eventually he gave up trying and moved to Edinburgh to pursue a career as a doctor. It was at his first job that he met Bell's mother, Nancy, and the two eventually married and had Bell in 1970.
In 1994, Bell's parents decided to move to Canada for a fresh start, while Bell chose to stay in England to start her new job as an English teacher. The job she got was in the same town as her father’s old house, so he suggested she stay there. Her father assured her that the caretaker, Frank, would look after her, and he did. He had helped her settle in her first week. Even though some parts of the house gave her the creeps, it started to grow on her. That was until one night after having dinner with Frank she was cleaning the plates by the window when a light was switched on from her house. There should not have been anyone in there.
“Frank, come look at this.’’ Bell said as she gestured for Frank to come over from the kettle.
When Frank approached, he frowned with an expression that could only be described as angry. Bell sensed that people trying to break into the big scary house was something that Frank had to deal with on a regular basis. A shiver ran down Bells spine at the thought of that.
“Damn kids, stay here; I will sort them out.'' Frank grumbled as he made his way to the front door. His old age was making him limp, and he seemed tired. Bell felt a heavy feeling of guilt at having an old man fight her battles.
“No, I will go. You can phone the police,’’ Bell had just started saying, but Frank had already closed the door on his way out. Bell watched from the window as Frank dragged himself up the hill to the house that Bell was still struggling to call home. She let out a worried puff of air as Frank entered the front entrance to the house. As the heavy door closed shut behind him, Bell made her to the phone to call for help. She didn’t want to get some silly kids in trouble, but she had to make sure that she and Frank were safe.
Just as the ringing on the phone started, there was a bright green light that came from inside her house. It was quick and bright in Bell's eyes, and it made her drop the phone, causing the phone to break and the call to disconnect. Her first thought was that they had set off a bloody fire in her house. Her second thought was that if whoever was up there had hurt Frank, she was going to go mental.
Deciding not to be a coward, she made her way up the hill. The house was completely silent and dead again, completely still. Making sure the front door opened silently, she snuck her way in and shut the door behind her.
If she could get to her own phone, then she could call for help there. Still mindful not to make any sound, she made her way up the stairs to the living room that had the phone. Halfway up, she heard the voice of men she definitely did not know. The voices were too muffled to make out what they were saying, but their tones did not sound friendly at all.
Freezing for a second, Bell took her moment to decide her next steps. She stared ahead at the portrait of her grandfather, who stared back at her with cold eyes. She took a small step back and cursed when the squeak of the floor echoed in the wide hall. The muffled voices stopped, and Bell was about to make a run for it when they started talking again. Her heartbeat quickened as she noticed that Frank had yet to show up.
Making the decision, she made her way further up the stairs until she could see the top of the floor, and her heart sank. At the top of the stairs just outside the living room, Frank lay on his back completely still. His eyes were open, but there was no light in them as they looked back at Bell. His chest was motionless. He was dead. His body left, disregarded by his killers, who shut the door of the livingroom. Abandoning Frank to the cold and dark hallway.
draco cuddling with muggle!reader on a sunday morning
and he knows he’s not supposed to tell you that he’s a wizard but c’mon it’s you who would you tell so he likes to show you cool lil tricks w his wand to see the way that your eyes light up in astonishment and your little giggles of “do it again!!”
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draco secretly enjoying muggle things that you show him and even when he tries to admit that he hates it he can't help but enjoy them becuase it's your gift
he furrows his brows in both confusion and mockery as you present him the play station. “what in bloody hell is that?” draco asked as he scoffed.
“it’s a game console,” you smiled widely, sitting next to him as you handed him a controller. “c’mon i wanna kick your ass in cod,” you giggled.
“i hate when you make me do these things” he grumbled as you began to set up his new gaming console, one that matched your’s so that the two of you could play together.
“hush you love it,” you smiled as you turned on the game. “okay, so,” you began babbling, explaining the game and how to play to him as you two played. when you were distracted by the game, draco took his time to finally smile.
truly, he loved when you showed him your muggle devices and gifted them with him. he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face when he saw your’s light up in glee while you two did the muggle activities together. truth be told, he loved all of the gifts… because they came from you.
synopsis ── when you have to fill in the census for you and oliver, you realise you may have to confront how little you know about him. ♡
── oliver wood x fem!muggle!reader
genre ── fluff
word count ── 1.7k
note ── i haven’t written for any harry potter characters in so long, but i was filling out the census a little while ago and i had to fill in the thing for what everyone in my family does for a living (for context my mum was trying to look after two small children so she got me to do it) and it kinda made me think about what it would be like with a muggle trying to fill out the census for their magical partner, especially when they don’t know their partner is magical. i’m a little obsessed with muggle mcs currently.
♡ marvel masterlist ; misc masterlist ; prompts ; character list ; request rules
warnings ── nothing bad or graphic in fact it's barely in there but pregnancy
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for my boyfriend to have to go away for work. He frequently claimed he had to travel, and sometimes that meant he was away for weeks at a time. Of course, I missed him like crazy, especially when the only form of communication we had was through letters, apparently Oliver didn’t have a phone where he was.
It would have made it a lot easier, however, if I’d known what he did for work.
Oliver and I had been together five years, since we were nineteen, and we’d been living together for the past year, and in that entire time I still had no idea what exactly he did for a living. We got money from him, a reasonable amount, if not a little on the high side, but he’d never told me, and no matter how many times I asked, he never gave in.
He had been home for about a week when we got the letter in the mail, and I realised I’d never lived with him when we had to fill out the census. Of course, Oliver was a bit of a man-child, which I usually found endearing, but sometimes, when he didn’t know how the washing machine worked, it was a little irritating.
“Hey, Ollie,” I was sitting at the kitchen table filling out the form, when it came to the part when it came to the part I had to fill in which area of work he did. “I know you don’t want to tell me, but I need to know, what exactly do you do? For the census,”
Oliver was watching the news on the couch, and he looked up at me and sighed. “Okay, we’ve been together long enough, you deserve to know,”
“What, are you, like, a hitman?” I joked, but Oliver sat down seriously. “Wait, you’re not a hitman are you?”
“No, of course not,” he assured me, taking my hand. Oliver was very serious when it came to a lot of things, but when he was with me he was a little more lighthearted. “There’s something really big about my life that I haven’t told you, and you deserve to know. I totally understand if you’re mad, but it’s not something I can tell every girlfriend I have, you know? I had to make sure you were here to stay,”
“Oliver,” I said uncertainly. “What’s this big secret?”
After realising I knew nothing about his job, I started thinking about how else I didn’t know about many other aspects of his life. I knew he’d gone to boarding school, and he was the captain of some sort of sports team, although he’d never told me which one.
He assured me once more than he’d tell me, before taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He then laid out his entire childhood for me, including telling me all about the Wizarding World. At first I hadn’t believed him, I mean, who would? It was only when he cast a spell in front of me that I had realised he may have been telling the truth.
He told me all about what he did for work (which honestly didn’t help me in filling out the census form) and how he’d been the captain of his quidditch team at his boarding school. He told me all about his teammates, and how he didn’t have many non-quidditch friends, as he spent a long time focusing on the sport. He told me about the war, and how after it was over he needed a break from magic, and it was then that he’d decided to take a chance on the cute muggle (I was offended at first, before he assured me it just meant a non-magic person) girl- me- that he’d met at the grocery store.
I’d always been a rationally thinking person, I was a journalist, after all. It was my job to find the truth, and I’d found it.
“Love?” he asked me, concerned. After his whole spiel, I’d taken to looking down at the table, my hands fiddling with his fingers, something I’d always done to calm myself. “I understand if this is too much,”
“No,” I said softly, raising my head to make eye contact with the man I loved so much. “It’s not too much. It’s just a lot, not too much, though,”
“I love you more than anything,” he was letting his accent thicken, knowing it softened me.
“I love you too, Oliver,” I rolled my eyes. “Thank you for trusting me, I can understand it would have definitely been hard on you,”
“It’s not something you can really say on the first date,” he laughed weakly. “I just… I needed to make sure you were serious, because no one can know. And I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time, I was just scared,” Oliver admitted.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him.
I remained true to my word, and I didn’t go anywhere, and over the next four years, we got married. I’d met his parents, they had no qualms about the fact I wasn’t magical, and welcomed me into their family with open arms. Fortunately, my job was one that they had in the wizarding world, so I had no need to explain it to them. However, journalists were a lot less respected nowadays apparently, due to the lack of truthful journalism that was published during the war.
It was about a year after we were married, Oliver brought up the subject of having children. It was something we’d talked about before, but I was a little more hesitant now that I knew there was a 99% chance that I’d give birth to a magical child. Oliver had known that I felt better about situations I knew about, so he’d bought me as many magical books as he could get his hands on, bar the ones teaching magic, as he felt I’d have no real use for them.
However, that didn’t stop me from wanting children, so eventually I repented, finding myself pregnant a few months after my twenty-ninth birthday.
It was a lot different than I’d thought, magical children providing a lot more chaos than I’d been anticipating, and I had a lot of experience with little children, having had a job as a nanny while I went through college. But I loved my boys more than anything, having three of them in total, including my doting husband.
“Darling,” he’d said to me while we were preparing for bed one night, having just put the children to bed. “I don’t see why you won’t have one or two more,”
“How many, exactly, were you wanting?” I rose an eyebrow.
“Seven?” he asked sheepishly.
“And is this because you are trying to form your own quidditch team with your children?”
“Well, my love, I just think you deserve a nice big happy family and I think kids deserve you as a mum, with your gorgeous smile, and your loving disposition,” Oliver said,
“One more,” I said, “That’s it,”
We ended up having twins, so we had two. A girl, and another boy. I swore to him that four was my maximum, and I suppose this time he could tell I was serious this time, so he didn’t ask for any more.
I loved Oliver more than I thought possible, but seeing him with our children made me somehow love him even more. We sent them to primary school with other muggle kids, I was adamant that they receive a normal education after he told me the only school he ever went to was Hogwarts. They knew about magic, of course, only after they were old enough to understand the importance of secrecy. Zackary was by far the most excited. We told him a few months before Connor was due to start Hogwarts, and he seemed quite miffed that I didn’t possess magical genes, only his dad did, still, he was very excited.
Dropping the youngest of my children at the train station was very bittersweet. I couldn’t get onto the platform, so we had to say our goodbyes outside the barrier. I hugged Connor first, my fourteen year old son squirming to get away from me “Mum!”
“Well excuse me,” I said, “I guess I won’t send you any money while you’re at school, since apparently you don’t need me,”
Connor rolled his eyes, kissing my cheek. Next was Luke, who wasn’t too old to show his mother affection, giving me a big hug.
Then came the twins who were, by far, the most nervous. “You guys okay?” I asked them. Natalie nodded somewhat nervously, always the more adventurous of the two. Zackary bit his lip, looking at his shoes.
“Hey, kiddo,” Oliver knelt down beside me to look our youngest in the eye. “It’ll be okay, Hogwarts is amazing, and you’ve got your big sister there with you, and Connor and Luke, they’ll take care of you,”
“What if people don’t like me?” Zack asked quietly.
I knew nothing about Hogwarts, so I couldn’t offer much insight. Oliver knew exactly what to do though, whispering to him, “You see that guy who just walked in? The one with the two kids?” Zack nodded. “I used to share a room with him. He was the most annoying person I’ve ever met, and he had a group of friends, and even a girlfriend,”
Zack wrinkled his nose. “Ew,”
“I forgot I was talking to an eleven year old,” Oliver rolled his eyes. “But trust me, Hogwarts is a place where you’ll find the people you’re supposed to be with,”
Zack seemed a little more confident, but still, he asked. “What if I’m not in Gryffindor?” Oliver was, and our two older sons were as well.
“Well, your mum wasn’t in Gryffindor,” Oliver said cheekily as I rolled my eyes. “And I love her, so no matter what house you’re in, you’ll be fine,”
The station clock showed 10:50, so I hurried them along. “Bye, Mum,”
“Bye,” I hugged each of them once in turn before their father took them through the barrier, and I stood there and waited. I hated not being able to truly send my children off to school. My husband came and stood beside me. “I miss them,”
“I know,” Oliver kissed the top of my head. “They’ll be home for Christmas, though. Unless they decide to stay,”