everyone PLEASE shut the hell up i am trying to gently headbutt someones hand and/or arm in order to receive affection
@gryffin-doc I DIDNT KNOW STEVE GOT A TUMBLR ACCOUNT???
LMAO
No title available
đȘŒ
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
cherry valley forever

Discoholic đȘ©
I'd rather be in outer space đž

blake kathryn
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

#extradirty

Love Begins

No title available

JVL

â
d e v o n

if i look back, i am lost
noise dept.
Game of Thrones Daily

Janaina Medeiros
tumblr dot com
Show & Tell

seen from United States

seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from India

seen from Malaysia
seen from Argentina

seen from Argentina
seen from Argentina

seen from United States
@gryffin-doc
everyone PLEASE shut the hell up i am trying to gently headbutt someones hand and/or arm in order to receive affection
@gryffin-doc I DIDNT KNOW STEVE GOT A TUMBLR ACCOUNT???
LMAO
Never Faded- An Arya Stark Drabble
(Just something I came up with after the Game of Thrones finale and promptly forgot about. Aryaâs ending was probably the only part of it I didnât find disappointing. Please enjoy)
Ser Podrick Payne slowed his horse as he looked around the woods with a frown. It felt like he had been riding for hours in the same direction, but the trees surrounding him looked the same. Was it possible that he was lost? With all the traveling that heâd done in his younger days, he would have thought that was impossible. But then again, no one had ever traveled this far west before.
No one but the person he was looking for.
He dismounted less than gracefully, snagging his foot on a nearby thorn bush. It was a good thing Ser Brienne wasnât there to see him. After all this time, he still felt like he was struggling to live up to the example she set. Podrick adjusted his weapons, gripped his horse by the reins, and set off through the trees.
His boots crunched through a soft layer of leaves and he tried to walk more quietly, as his mentor had taught him. The forest was completely silent, except for the sound of his own breath and the snorting of the horse beside him.
As soon as that thought crossed his mind, his hand went to the sword at his belt. He looked down, just as an arrow whizzed past his ear and lodged itself firmly into a tree behind him.
His horse whinnied in alarm and Podrick, sword in hand, quickly ducked behind a tree for cover. A thousand possibilities ran through his mind- bandits, monsters, deserting soldiers-
Nothing happened.
Podrick cautiously peered out from behind the tree and to his surprise, he could see a clearing up ahead with a small cottage situated just at the edge. A warning, he realized. He held his breath. And as he peered closerâŠhe could make out a slim, dark-haired figure sitting on the stoop, skinning squirrels with expert ease. It was difficult to tell if it was a man or woman from the length of the hair, but he knewâŠ
She looked up expectantly as he stepped out from behind the tree, quickly sheathing his sword. Her eyes narrowed as he approached slowly, and he knew she was taking in his painted armor, one of the things she had left far behind in her life. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling unnerved in her presence.
âL-lady Stark.â
Instantly, she stood up, gathering the skinned squirrels and turning to head inside. âArya!â Podrick blurted out.
Arya Stark stopped and turned around. The years had sharpened the angles of her jaw and he thought he spotted a sprinkling of grey in her hair. But from the way she was gripping her knife, he knew that her skills had not faded with time.
âArya,â he repeated, stumbling forward so that he was looking up at her. Her frown deepened.
âWhy are you here?â Her voice was hoarse from lack of use.
He had prepared a speech. One that appealed to her sense of family, of honor, of loyalty, but all of that faded as he stood in awe of her presence. Years ago, he had gaped at her in amazement as she was honored at Winterfell as the hero who had destroyed the Night King. It was a story told time and time again across every corner of both kingdoms.
âWesteros is in danger again,â he said.
She scoffed and turned on her heel. âI donât do that anymore.â
Her hand closed around the doorknob and Podrick felt his heart beating frantically. His mission couldnât end in failure, not when heâd barely tried. âArya, please! There is a powerful army gathering across the Narrow Sea, it aims to destroy Westeros and the North! There are rumors that they have beasts weâve never even seen! His Grace instructed me to bring you back and-â
âPodrick.â Aryaâs voice was harsh and final. âI donât do that anymore.â
She opened the door and walked inside, starting to close it behind her when he blurted out the only thing he could think of: âSansa and Bran!â
The door stopped closing. Behind it, he could just make out Aryaâs face, could see the softening in her eyes.
âSansa and Bran are in danger.â
His heart pounded in his chest, counting the minutes that passed as he waited for Arya to open the door again. Desperately hoping that her loyalty to her siblings, like her skills, had never faded.
Barely sparing him a glance, she pushed open the door and gestured at him. âYouâd better come inside.â
Idk if itâs just me but all the PokĂ©mon in the Detective Pikachu movie look to me like rip-off stuffed animal or action figure PokĂ©mon.
âSorry son, the Pikachu doll is too expensive. But hereâs a Pokachu, it looks almost the same! Go play with it, hope it doesnât give you nightmares.â
The Fab Five travel through time, space, and genre to help Professor Flitwick get his groove back
This is the greatest thing Iâve ever seen.
I have to sleep but hear me out:
Disney princess moms, the ones who got killed off, spectating their kidsâ messed up lives. Getting angry. And coming back to haunt the SHIT out of the people who made their little girls cry
âYou left our daughter IN A CASTLE WITH THAT,â belleâs mom screams at Maurice. Heâs shivering on his bed, wondering why no one will believe him. âNo! Thatâs not how this works!â
And then belleâs mom just haunting the shit out of the beastâs castle.
âMaster,â a servant says, âI think the castle is haunted.â
âYouâre a talking fork,â The beast says.
âI mean with ghosts,â the fork says.
Belle, meanwhile, is super thrilled that the book she wants to read is always right on the library table for her when she gets up.
Good night
Idk I feel like if I were the moms, Iâd be scolding the hell out of my daughters.
Snow Whiteâs mom watching her like: âOMG you canât just break into a strangerâs house and sleep in their bed, were you raised in a barn? Wait, what- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DO NOT aceept food from STRANGERS, that is the first thing I taught you!!â
Different
âYouâreâŠdifferent. Iâve never met a girl like you.â
She stares at him, hands stilling over her sword. âWhat?â
âAll the girls in my village are so boring,â he says. âSo focused on finding husbands that they donât bother learning about the world.â
âGirls in your village arenât allowed to own property or vote,â she says, somewhat incredulous.
He winces at her tone. Need she be so harsh? âWellâŠitâs not like theyâve ever needed to, weâre a very progressive village and I always vote in favor of their needs. Youâre not like that though, you fight for your rights yourself.â
âThey are fighting for their rights,â she says. She sets down her sharpening stone, a frown stretching across her face. âNo voting, no property, no wages of their own to purchase necessities. Besides finding a kind husband, what else do you think they can do to find a good future?â
âTh-they could leave,â he says. He did not expect the conversation to go this way. He expected her to blush like she had when he complimented her sword skills. He finds himself oddly defensive. âThe men in my village arenât slavers. The girls can leave any time.â
She snorts. âOn foot? Your village is a hard, three day ride from the nearest city and thatâs by horseback. And, even if they made it, what skills do they have? What references? The risk is too high for any woman to leave, thatâs as good as trapping them. The fact that it takes me holding a sword for your opinion of women to change just shows how small-minded you are.â
 He bristles, unable to refute her. âLook, I was just trying to pay you a compliment! Thereâs no need to attack me.â
âTrust me,â she says, standing when he moves to loom over her. Theyâre of near equal height and, if he was trying to intimidate her, he fails. âYouâll know it when Iâm attacking you. This isnât it.â
He doesnât seem to hear her, flustered to be seeing her eye-to-eye. âFurthermore, I think Iâd know what sort of girls I grew up with! Theyâre timid and lack a desire to explore the world.â
âThe world you created for them doesnât take long to explore,â she says. Her sword is bare in her hand. âMarry or descend into poverty. Bear an heir or be cast into poverty. Behave or be thrown into poverty. I was there for a week and figured it out. But,â she continues, looking him up and down, âmaybe I shouldnât be so quick to judge. After all, youâve lived there your whole life and you still havenât figured it out.â
He splutters. âThatâs notâthere are other optionsââ
âWhen the revolution is done,â she says, coldly, âand your people are forced to give women rights, see how many stay and how many leave. See how many suddenly discover their wander-lust. See how many end up like me.â
She leaves him there and stalks off to the edge of camp. She leaves him there with his mouth opening and closing, and heart pounding in his chest.
She leaves him there with the unsettling realization that he doesnât want the women in his village to end up being like her, so different and strong. Because, if they did, where would he be? Where would his home be?
Itâs an upsetting realization to have, mid-revolution. No chance to back out now.
Wow, this has such a strong voice to it! And to convey so much background context in so few words!!! :0
I knew from the first sentence that this would be amazing, and it delivered. Itâs a take Iâve always seen hinted, but never fleshed out and I ADORE seeing it fleshed out.
Omfg. One of the most empowering and creative scenes I have read. What the actual hell. đ§đđ whoever wrote this please make a novel so I can re read it over and over again.
Hogwarts Classes by Karen Leopold. You can find the artist and other works at their Instagram: @karen_leopold.
Nightmares (MC x everyone friendship)
Summary: MCâs friends all find themselves having the same nightmare about her. And the closer they are to the final Cursed Vault, the worse those nightmares are, causing them to reflect on why sheâs had such an impact on their lives.Â
Word Count: ~2400
Finally.
Finally.
After so many years of searching, they had finally figured out the location of the last Cursed Vault. âJacobâs in there,â MC murmured, more to herself than anyone else. She sprang to her feet. âHe has to be.â She took a step towards the library entrance, like she was already planning to run straight to the Vault, before pausing. Her eyes skimmed over the group and narrowed slightly.
âNo.â It was Ben who spoke up, surprising everyone, including himself. âYou donât get to choose who comes with you this time, MC. Weâre all coming with you.â
She shook her head. âI canât get you all in trouble-â
âThatâs not up to you this time,â Penny said firmly. âBenâs right. Weâre all coming with you.â
MC sighed. âFine. Letâs meet in the Artefact Room after curfew.â
Ten minutes after curfew that night found Charlie pacing around the room, checking his watch impatiently. âSheâll be here, donât worry,â Tulip snapped at him, her voice sounding tense. She scowled at Barnaby, who was twirling his wand between his fingers and dropping it repeatedly.
âYou donât think she went off without us, do you?â asked Tonks. None of them had wanted to say it out loud, but it was exactly what they were all thinking.
âShe wouldnât do that.â Charlie didnât sound convincing to anyone, including himself.
âAnd besides, Rowanâs not here,â Penny added. âRowan wouldnât let her go off on her own.â
There was a pause as they all looked at each other, thinking about the likelihood that Rowan could actually stop MC once she made her mind up about something.
âWe should go look for her,â Andre said.
The door of the Artefact Room opened and they all whipped around. âSorry weâre late,â MC said, Rowan close behind her. She smiled, but it didnât quite reach her eyes. âIf anyone wants to stay behind, itâs alright.â
No one said anything.
MC sighed. âAlright then. Letâs go.â
They split up into smaller groups to avoid being caught. They were highly practiced at slipping through the shadows, silently padding their way down dark corridors, listening for any sound that was a giveaway of Filch or Mrs. Norris or one of the teachers. MC led the pack with Rowan and Charlie by her sides. Rowan could feel her trembling slightly, but didnât say a word.
They gathered around the entrance of the Cursed Vault. MC raised the wand that she had been gripping almost hard enough to break. âAlohomora.â
âHello, little sister.â
Instantly, MCâs body tensed up. Her wand still raised, she gaped at the figure stepping out of the shadows of the Vault, lips quivering as they mouthed a name.
âJacob.â
The laugh that echoed from the Vault made Andreâs hair stand on end and he gripped his wand a little tighter. Tonks appeared to turn a shade paler.
âItâs been a while.â
With a strangled cry that might have been a sob, MC lunged forward, but Charlie and Barnaby grabbed her by the arms, holding her back as she struggled against them. âStop- what are you doing?â she snapped.
âJust wait, MC.â Charlie said firmly.
Ben shivered at the eyes gleaming from the darkness, so similar to MCâs but missing that spark of laughter that always graced hers. When he spoke, his voice was chilling and his smile sent shivers down their spines.
âItâs alright.â Jacob said. He took a step towards them, a step that didnât seem to echo at all in the silence of the vault. âI just want to talk. Iâm glad you found me, MC. Of course, I never doubted you for a moment.â
âJacobâŠâ She went limp, almost sagging back against her friends. Her jaw trembled and Rowan could see her clenching her teeth tightly.
âIâve missed you, little sister.â Jacob stopped walking towards them and held out his arms. âArenât you going to greet me?â
MC gently shook Charlie and Barnaby off her. âItâs alright,â she said quietly. âHeâs not going to hurt me. Heâs my brother.â
She took a step inside the vault, the others crowding around her. Then she took another stepâŠand whirled around, the tip of her wand pressed firmly against Barnabyâs chest.
âMC-â Barnaby began.
âDepulso,â she said, voice unwavering, and he flew backwards, arms flailing and knocking down the others.
âNo!â Rowan screamed, struggling to untangle herself from the pile as she lunged for the doorway as it began to close. The last thing she saw before the door slammed shut in her face was MCâs faint but confident smile.
Rowan sat up in bed with a gasp, pressing a hand against her chest as if that would keep her heart from racing. This was the third night in a row that sheâd had such a nightmare. One time, she didnât wake up until after theyâd forced the door open again, only to find MC and Jacob both lying motionless and bleeding on the floor of the vault.
What if Harry Potter, the chosen one, had turned out to be a squib, how do you think history would have turned out differently?
It was Mrs. Figg who suspected first.
She noticed many things, sitting on her side of her fence with her cats chasing butterflies and nuzzling her ankles, Mundungus and the other watchers dropping by for tea now and then.
Mrs. Figg noticed that Petunia was a nosy bit of work with insecurities hanging from her every harsh angle. She noticed when Dudley learned the word MINEâ the whole neighborhood noticed that one. She noticed that Vernon glared at owls.
She noticed that when Petunia gave Harry a truly horrendous haircut one year, it grew back in at a normal rate. Harry was uneven and weird-looking for ages, hiding under beanies when he could.
When Mrs. Figg had Harry over for carefully miserable afternoons of babysitting, she noticed nothing moved that shouldnât. He didnât accidentally make flowers out of fallen leaves, or levitate anything during tantrums, or turn toys funny colors.
Mrs. Figg called up her mother, interrupting the wizarding bridge game she was winning against the nursing home staff, and asked her how she had known, decades back, that her youngest daughter was a squib.
When Albus Dumbledore received Mrs. Figgâs letter he wrote back a polite thank you and then went to talk with Minerva McGonagall, who inhaled sharply in horror when he told her the news.
Finally, McGonagall gave a gathered sigh. âI suppose we can ask one of the wizarding families to homeschool him,â she said. âWe canât have the Boy Who Lived not knowing about his own world.â Â
âNo, heâll come to Hogwarts,â said Dumbledore.
âHogwarts is not a place forââ Her voice fell. ââsquibs, Albus.â
Dumbledore shook his head. âHarry must be taught.â
âBe taught what, Albus?â
But Dumbledore just sighed and offered her a lemon drop.
Years later, the owls and the letters came to 4 Privet Drive. The Dursleys ran, dragging Harry with them, and the letters and one stubborn gamekeeper followedâ none of this would change with a magicless Harry.
When Hagrid asked Harry in that little cabin on that little rock in the middle of the sea if weird things always happened around him, Harry couldnât tell him about vanishing glass and setting captive snakes free, about ending up somehow on the school roof, or growing his hair out overnight. Â
âStrange things always happen around you, donâ they?â
âUm,â said Harry, racking his brain. âWell⊠I live in a cupboard under the stairsâŠâ
Harry could tell him about how snakes sometimes talked back, because that had never been Harryâs magic, but when he did Hagrid just blanched and changed the subject.
Hagrid held out hope, even against Dumbledoreâs quiet warning explanations, until they made it to Ollivanderâs Wands. Harry marveled at Diagon Alley, got his hands shaken in the Leaky, pressed his nose up against shop windows. Hagrid watched the scant boyâ looked at Jamesâs messy hair, Lilyâs eyes, Harryâs own wandering gazeâ and he wondered how this boy could be anything but magical.
In the wand shop, Ollivander said, âJames Potter, yes⊠mahogany, eleven inches. Pliable. A powerful wand for Transfiguration.â He said, âAnd your mother, Lily⊠ strong in Charms work, ten and⊠yes, ten and a quarter, willow, swishy.â
Harry picked up stick after wooden stick. They remained just thatâ wood with bits of feather or scale or hair. Harry wondered if the creatures who gave these offerings were still aliveâ if they were given or taken. What did it do to your wand when they died? He waved a maplewood wand (unicorn hair, eleven inches) and a gust from the door opening blew some receipts off the counter.
âWell, said Ollivander. âI think thatâs as close as weâre likely to get.â
He sent them out with the maplewood. Hagrid bought Harry a snowy owl and a fudge sundae and tried not make it too obvious that these were condolence gifts. The next day the Prophetâs headlines read: The Boy Who Livedâ A Squib? Various magical medical experts weighed in on how it might have happened. Fingers were pointed at childhood trauma, at his upbringing, at his family lineage.
Harry still met Ron on the trainâ Ron was still smudge-nosed and Harry still bought enough candy to share. When Molly had helped him through the platform entrance, her voice had been a little softer, a little more pityingâ but it was still better than the laughter that had been in his aunt and uncleâs voices when they dropped him here to find a platform they didnât think existed.
Hermione Granger dropped by their compartment, looking for Nevilleâs toad, but got distracted when she spotted Harry. âIâve read about you! In my books, and in the paper,â she said. âYouâre the Boy Who Lived, and youâre a squib.â
Harry sank down in his seat. Ron hid Scabbers under a candy wrapper.
âSquibs have never been allowed in Hogwarts,â Hermione announced. âAccording to Hogwarts, A History, squibs try to sneak in now and thenâ the furthest anyoneâs ever gotten is to the Sorting Hat before they got found out.â At eleven, Hermione still believed in expulsion being worse than death. Her voice was thrumming with sympathetic horror.
âBut they already found out about me,â Harry said, alarmed.
âItâs alright, mate,â said Ron. âYouâre Harry Potter. Oy, Granger,â he added. âWhatâs this Hat? Fred and George were trying to sell me some story about having to fight a mountain troll to get your HouseâŠâ
Harry sat back and watched the countryside rush by. Yes, he was Harry Potterâ his auntâs useless sisterâs useless child, the boy in the lumpy hand-me-down sweaters who named the spiders who lived in his cupboard. And here, in new world, he was apparently useless too.
When they got to Hogwarts, Harry clenched his fists and stood in line with the other first years. He barely twitched at the ghosts or Peeves, just stared ahead and thought about how far he would get before they turned him around and sent him back to Vernon and Petunia.
They opened the Great Hall doors. They called the first years one by one. Harry clenched his teeth and walked up to the Hat when they called his name.
As he turned to sit down on the stool, he really caught sight of the Hall for the first timeâ the hovering candles, the big wooden tables, the black robes that swallowed the light. Translucent ghosts gossiped with the students beside them. The paintings on the far wallsâ were they moving?
Harryâs jaw had unclenched, falling open. His fists curled open, curving around the stoolâs seat as he leaned forward to stare. If this was it, if this was as far as heâd get in this world, then he wanted to drink it all in. The candles were floating, in mid-air.
The Hat dropped down over his eyes and blocked out the light.
Well, said the dry voice that had been hollering House placements all night. What do we have here?
Ron had been begging for not-Slytherin. Draco from the robes shop had been scornful of Hufflepuff, desperate in his disdain. Neville had begged for Hufflepuff, sure he was not brave enough for Gryffindor.
Please, thought Harry. Donât send me back.
Keep reading
I have this headcanon that Myron Wagtail of the Weird Sisters looks for musical inspiration everywhere. And that includes Muggle music. I imagine him sneaking into Muggle music stores every chance he gets and buying CDs and getting so confused about how to get the sound out that he breaks the first few he buys. I imagine him struggling to work a CD player but being more and more determined to figure it out because the harder it is to unlock that precious sound, the more itâll be worth it. I imagine him going back to his band mates and telling them about the dark and twisted souls of tormented Muggle musicians- exactly what they should emulate.
Basically what Iâm saying is, the Weird Sisters performed âTotal Eclipae of the Heartâ at their Hogwarts concert and you canât convince me otherwise.
tbh the most unrealistic thing in harry potter is when mrs weasley in the first book asks ânow whatâs the platform number?â
like this woman has been going to that school for seven years and then dropped kids off on the same place for nearly ten like why on earth would she forget the platform number
I still have the headcanon that Molly BAMF Weasley saw a scrawny underfed child with an owl who had no idea where he was going and looked lost and confused and was like, âAh, yep, new son.â but didnât want to scare him by outright approaching and asking if he needed help so she was just like, âMUGGLES, MUGGLES EVERYWHERE! DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE PLATFORM NUMBER TO WIZARD SCHOOL IS? WHATâS THAT? NINE AND THREE QUARTERS? OH, YES, THATâS RIGHT. THE PLATFORM NUMBER IS   N I N E  A N D  T H R E E   Q U A R T E R S!â
Of course seeing as how Harry isnât the most observant bloke, she probably ushered her kids past him fifty times as different ones screamed the platform number until they finally got his attention.
With that being said, and Iâm extremely sorry for taking over your post:
11:45:
They had just enough time to make it onto the platform, get their trunks loaded, and say their goodbyes. Molly ushered them all along, wishing that she could just Apparate them all onto the train and be done with it. There was too much to do, too much to say, too mâ
All at once, she screeched to a halt. Percy crashed into her, causing the twins to snicker.
A tiny boy was being crossly turned away by a security guard. A boy whose ribs poked through his baggy shirt, whose glasses were broken, whose jaw was trembling as he tried to find his way. Well, surely she could be the person to guide him there? And did he� Yes! He had an owl! He was one of them!
The poor child; he looked so lost.
Where were his parents?
Never mind, never mind. She would see to it that he would get on the train. But she had to be careful. She couldnât startle him. Heâd run off and that would be the end of it. No, no, they had to be crafty.
11:47 AM:
âPacked with Muggles of course,â Molly said loudly, ushering her very confused children past the boy. âWhatâs the platform number again?â
âNine and three quarters,â Percy said. âMother, how could you have forgâ?â
It was George who nudged him as he understood what she was doing. She had done it before, after all, and she would do it again.
Unfortunately, it didnât work.
The boy didnât seem to notice them.
11:48 AM:
âPacked with Muggles of course,â said Molly again, marching her children past once more. âWhatâs the platform number?â
âNine and three quarters,â Fred and George screamed in unison.
And still the boy remained lost.
11:49 AM:
âMum,â Ron panted, tripping over himself as he ran to keep up with her. âSlow down!â
Molly ignored him as she practically flew past the poor boy. âPacked with Muggles of course! Now, whatâs the platform number?â
âNine and three quarters,â Ron bellowed.
11:50 AM:
Molly honestly didnât care if her entire family missed the train and she had to set off across the UK herself like a mother leading a flock of ducklings: she was going to help this boy onto the bloody train.
She marched past him with a fiery determination and said, âPacked with Muggles of course!â
The boy looked up.
Yes! Okay, this was it, this was it, this was it. Play it cool. He was following them. Listening. Pretending not to.
They stopped.
âNow,â Molly said. âWhatâs the platform number?â
âNine and three quarters,â piped Ginny.
Victory!
The next nine minutes were a whirlwind of chaos but they managed to get the boy through the barrier. At Mollyâs insistence, Fred and George popped up and helped him get his trunk into the compartment. She handed Ron an extra sandwich and muttered, âTell him that everywhere else was full.â
He dutifully nodded.
As the train took off, she waved to her children, including her newest one.
Bristling with pride, she began to head back to the Burrow. There was simply no time to waste. She had a jumper to knit.
After the First Show: A Frog Choir Story
Summary: After MC chooses to take the only remaining spot on the Frog Choir, Merulaâs words haunt her.
Words: ~1200
âWhat do you think?â MC asked Sir Hopwaffle as he perched on his brand-new pillow. He didnât seem to be as much a fan of the dungbomb, so MC had wrapped it up in several copies of The Daily Prophet and tucked it under her bed.
He croaked, sounding almost like a shrug. She wondered if he was upset that sheâd chosen to sing in the Frog Choir with Dennis, but he had seemed to be okay with the idea when she explained it to him earlier. If Dennis was a trouble-maker like Tulip, then Sir Hopwaffle was more like her- wanting the best for others.
âYou go around Hogwarts acting like you really care about helping peopleâŠyet you wonât even let me have this one thing.â
MCâs gut twisted with guilt as she remembered the heartbroken look on Merulaâs face when Flitwich had announced the results. Sheâd seen Merula angry plenty of times before, but thisâŠthis was different. That quiet whisper of âIâm sorry, Mum,â had been enough to tug at MCâs heartstrings.
Throughout the whole performance, MC had tried her best not to look at Merula, a difficult task when the Slytherin was clearly trying to cast the Killing Curse with her eyes. She couldnât imagine how much Merula missed her mum, but she had an idea- and not being able to fulfill a dream that the two of them had shared must have almost felt like betrayal.
MC rolled onto her side, disturbing all of her other pets as they settled around her. Her mind drifted back to the rehearsal before the showâŠ
MC walked into the Charms classroom with Dennis perched in her hand to see a cluster of students gathered around one person. Her gag reflex kicked in the moment she heard the person in the middle of the group speak and Dennis gave her a concerned look.
âI know I said I was too busy for the Frog Choir, but how could I possibly leave?â Emily Tyler was saying to the group of enraptured students. âI mean, I would miss my solos so much. And who doesnât love handling slimy amphibians all the time?â
The older Gryffindorâs eyes landed on MC and MC could swear she saw irritation flash through them. It was no secret that Emily didnât like her, probably because MC was the only person who had dared to stand up to her.
âMC!â Emilyâs voice was high-pitched with fake friendliness.
Please donât let her come over here. Please, Merlin, donât let her come over here.
A pink manicured hand landed on her shoulder and MC reluctantly looked up into Emilyâs too-bright smile. Damn it, Merlin.
âItâs so good to see you again!â
âErâŠyeah. Likewise.â MC tried to take a step away, but the older girlâs grip was like a vise.
âIâm so glad youâre the one Professor Flitwick picked and not that tragic Snyde girl. I mean, can you even imagine having the daughter of Death Eater in the Frog Choir? That would bring our reputation down for sure.â
MC bit back her immediate retort that the Death Eater Emily was talking about had once been a member of the Frog Choir. Merula had told her that in confidence and she meant to keep the secret. âMerulaâs not tragic,â she gritted out.
Emily laughed. âYouâre so cute how you defend everyone, even when they do nothing for your image. Like that Bill Weasley character. Does he still fancy me, by the way?â
âNo. Of course not.â
âPity.â She sat down next to MC and MC could feel Dennis shudder slightly. âIâm so sorry for Professor Flitwick. It couldnât have been easy for him to choose between the cursed girl and a Death Eaterâs daughter. But it was necessary, you know. We couldnât have both of you destroying the Frog Choirâs reputation.â
She gave MC a smirk and sauntered off, head high before MC could even respond.
âThatâs so typical of her,â MC murmured to her pets. âItâs not that she really wants to be on the Frog Choir, you know? She just didnât want anyone else having that honour. Especially not people like me and Merula.â
An idea suddenly came to her and she quickly sat up. All of her pets looked at her warily. âSayâŠâ She smiled at her pets. âI have a job for you guys. But youâll have to beâŠdiscreet.â They tilted their heads quizzically in unison and she reached under her bed again, pulling out the newspaper-wrapped dungbomb. âHereâs the planâŠâ
âAttention, students!â Professor Flitwick called, bringing the pre-rehearsal chatter to a halt. MC stroked Dennisâs head to keep him quiet as she glanced towards the front of the classroom. âDue to an unfortunate incident, Miss Tyler has again decided to drop out of the Frog Choir. But as always, I enjoy welcoming new members. And so please, everyone give a round of applause to our newest member, Merula Snyde.â
Surprised whispers rippled through the room as everyone applauded and MC tried her best to hide her smile. She supposed her pets had gone a little overboard. All sheâd told them to do was hide the dungbomb somewhere in Emilyâs room where she wouldnât find it for a long time. Instead, theyâd dug a hole in the other girlâs mattress and buried the dungbomb inside it. Rumour was that Emily hadnât gone to class in quite some time, searching for the source of the stench, and most of her friends were staying as far away from her as they could.
MC looked up to see Merula approaching her. âCongratulations, Merula.â
âThat wasâŠvery Slytherin of you,â Merula said.
MC responded with her most innocent smile. âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â She looked down at the toad in her hands, who gave a loud croak. âDennis is happy to see you here.â
Merula just rolled her eyes and walked away. Throughout rehearsal, MC snuck glances over at Merula and for the first time, the Slytherin had a smile on her face. Her grin stretched from ear to ear and her voice stood out even amongst the group of talented singers.
Flitwick beamed. âWonderful job, everyone! I will see you all at the next rehearsal- or your next Charms class!â
MC took her time packing up and turned to see Merula still waiting for her at the door. The pair walked out of the room in silence, which Merula broke first. âSo, whyâd you do it? Did you feel guilty about stealing my spot?â
âEmily only stayed on because she didnât want either of us to have the chance,â MC replied. âUnsurprisingly, she doesnât even like toads.â
âI knew I could manipulate you into-â Merula began, but MC stopped in her tracks.
âLetâs get one thing straight. You did not manipulate me. I thought your audition was fantastic and you deserved to be on the Frog Choir. Youâve clearly practised very hard over the years.â MC straightened. âBut that doesnât mean that I should have to give up anything that Iâve worked hard for, either. You got Emilyâs spot because Flitwick thought you earned it. Thatâs all.âÂ
Merula stared at her for a long moment, before the corner of her mouth quirked up. âTch. Youâre a weird one, MC.â
âI know.â MC smiled. âGet used to it, Merula. Weâre going to be around each other even more now.â
And with that, she walked off, laughing to herself at the horrified look on Merulaâs face.
Professor Khannaâs First Student (Rowan x Barnaby Friendship)
Note: So as we all know, MC is basically the Avatar of the Hogwarts Houses- her group of close friends are all from different houses and could not be more different from each other if they tried. If it werenât for her, these guys probably wouldnât even be hanging out with each other. Iâm starting a series of one-shots pairing up her friends two at a time and depicting the hijinks that they get up to when sheâs not around. Please enjoy!Â
Summary: When Barnaby asks Rowan to help him study, she gets more than she bargained for. Will the youngest professor in Hogwarts history fail her first pupil?
Word Count: ~1800
Rowan sighed for the sixth time in twenty minutes as she pushed her glasses higher on her face, glowering at Barnaby. âCome on, Barnaby! I thought you wanted my help with Transfiguration!â
They were in the courtyard, perched on the edge of the fountain. A few students passed through, but very few were lingering outside so close to exams.
âI do!â Barnaby replied. He beamed down at Barnaby Jr as the Bowtruckle carefully climbed up along his arm. âIâm bad at it.â
âWell, stop playing with the Bowtruckle so I can help you!â
Barnaby pulled the Bowtruckle away as she reached for it. âBut Mum is busy helping Madam Pomfrey, so I have to watch him!â
Rowan narrowed her eyes. ââŠMum?â
âYou know, MC.â
âMC is Mum?â
Barnaby scoffed. âWell, obviously I canât be Mum.â
âBut why are you calling MC âMumâ?â Rowan felt her head spinning.
Barnaby smiled as the Bowtruckle hopped from one hand to the other. âYou know. Weâre raising Barnaby Jr together.â
Rowan took a deep breath as the thought flashed across her mind that maybe this is why Professor Snape was so grumpy all the time? No, no, she couldnât think like that. Barnaby was her first student and she wasnât going to let anything distract him. She leaned forward for a better look at the little Bowtruckle and it shrank away from her. Barnaby frowned. âUh, I donât think he likes you.â
âBarnaby, just put him back in the Wiggentree MC is growing in the greenhouse!â Rowan said. âHow are you going to pass your Transfigurations exam if you donât study?â
âHe can study with me,â Barnaby replied, setting the Bowtruckle on his shoulder. âMaybe heâll learn something too.â
Rowan pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. âAlright, fine.â She opened her well-worn copy of Intermediate Transfiguration and turned to him. âWhich spells are you struggling with?â
âAll of them,â Barnaby replied.
âAll of them?â
âYes.â
âGoing back to-â
âFirst year.â
âFirst year?â
âI already told you.â Barnaby looked embarrassed, staring down at the ground. âIâm not good at Transfiguration.â
âB-butâŠâ Rowan sighed. âOkay. What part do you struggle with?â He simply shrugged, focusing his gaze on the Bowtruckle who was now climbing down his leg.
Rowanâs face softened slightly. âAlright. Here.â She rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a matchstick. âI keep this when I want to practice the basics. Try turning it into a needle.â
Barnaby stared at the matchstick, then sighed and pulled out his wand. He spent several moments waving his wand at it, a bored look on his face. Rowan felt a vein about to pop out in her forehead. âBarnaby, are you even trying?â
ââŠyes?â He sighed and tossed the matchstick to the side. âWhatâs the point? Every year on final exams, I barely get enough points to scrape by. When will I ever need Transfiguration?â
And that was when it hit Rowan: Barnaby had already given up. He had come to her as a last resort, hoping for some quick fix that would allow him to pass yet again this year. He wasnât interested in the basics of Transfiguration. But Transfiguration wasnât something you could just quickly cram, it was a skill that took timeâŠdedicationâŠ
âHEY!â
Rowan looked up, startled, just in time to hear, âWingardium Leviosa!â Merula had appeared out of nowhere to levitated Barnaby Jr. out of her former friendâs hands and was now dangling the Bowtruckle just out of reach. Barnaby jumped up and down, desperately trying to snag the creature out of the air.
âIs this the pathetic creature that you and MC are taking care of?â Merula sneered, twitching her wand so that Barnaby Jr dropped slightly. Barnaby lunged forward, but she quickly levitated the Bowtruckle high into the air again.
âMerula, stop it!â Rowan snapped, hands balled into fists. âLeave Barnaby Jr. alone!â
âBarnaby Jr?â Merula laughed. âWell, it does have the same dopey face you do, Lee. Who picked the name? Was it MC?â
âYes. So?â Barnaby growled.
âGuess she didnât pick you for your brains, either.â Merula laughed.
Hurt flashed into Barnabyâs eyes before it was replaced by anger and he snatched up his wand. âBarnaby, donât-â Rowan began.
âDepulso!â Barnaby yelled. Merula was knocked off her feet and the Bowtruckle came plummeting down. Barnaby dove to catch it, missed and landed in the fountain.Â
Rowan quickly pulled out her wand and pointed it at the edge of the fountain. âSpongify!â The edge of the fountain sank in slightly and the Bowtruckle landed on its bottom, bouncing on the softened area until Barnaby managed to grab it.
Across the Courtyard, Merula had finally picked herself off the ground and was clearly trying to hide any signs of pain. She dusted off her robes and marched back towards them, one arm slightly pressed to her side. âWhat are you doing out here, anyway?â she asked.
âWe were studying,â Rowan snapped. âSo if you donât mind-â
âTransfiguration?â Merula glanced at the textbook and snickered. âGood luck, Khanna. Barnabyâs hopeless at Transfiguration. Not even your nerd brain could fix that. Iâd give up now.â She walked off before Rowan could think of a retort.
Barnaby hauled himself out of the fountain, his clothes sopping wet, and carefully set the Bowtruckle on the ground. He pulled off his sweater and wrung it out, careful to avoid looking at Rowan. His shoulders were slumped as sat back down on the edge of the fountain, poking at the area sheâd transfigured.
âBarnaby,â she finally said. âYouâre not hopeless.â
He let out a bark of laughter with no trace of humour in it. âThatâs nice of you to say. Especially since youâre the one who told MC that Iâm âthicker than a troll.ââ
Rowan winced. Okay, she had said that, but-
âItâs okay,â he went on, holding out his hand for Barnaby Jr to climb back onto his arm. âI know Iâm not smart. Everyone says so. Transfiguration is for smart people, like you. Thatâs why Iâm bad at it.â
âYouâre smarter than people think you are!â Rowan said quickly. âI mean, youâre so good at Care of Magical Creatures, andâŠand that Depulso you cast just now was the most powerful one Iâve ever seen!â
Barnaby brightened slightly. âYou mean it?â
âDefinitely!â Rowan could feel the wheels turning in her brain as an idea came to her. âIn fact, I thinkâŠI think you just need the right motivation.â
âHuh?â
Before Barnaby could blink, Rowan pulled out her wand and pointed it at Barnaby Jr. âWingardium Leviosa!â
âNo!â Barnaby scrambled to his feet, trying to catch the Bowtruckle out of the air again. âRowan, what are you doing?!â
âTrust me, Barnaby! Just listen to me!â She kept the Bowtruckle floating a safe distance above the ground. âLook at the ground where Barnaby Jr is going to land. Look at how high he is. And think about how much you want to protect him. Think about keeping him safe!â
Barnaby stared at the ground so intently, she thought his eyes might pop out of his head.
âOkay, good! Now, cast Spongify on the ground!â Rowan called.
âWhat? But-â
âJust do it! Iâm going to let Barnaby Jr fall now. You have to make sure he lands safely!â Rowan ended the Levitating Charm and let the Bowtruckle fall to the ground.
âSpongify!â Barnaby hollered. The Bowtruckle hit the ground and bounced safely several times before coming to a stop, looking dizzy. Barnaby looked at Rowan in shock. âI did it!â
âYou did it!â
âI did it!â Barnaby jumped up and down a few times before throwing his arms around her, drenching her with water as well. âAnd I did a good job this time!â
âYou cast an excellent Spongify,â Rowan beamed. âThink youâre ready for a harder Transfiguration spell?â
Barnaby hesitated. âI-I donât know, Rowan. I mean, it worked that one time, but-â
âCome on. Sit here.â Rowan led him to the edge of the fountain. âI donât know who first called you dumb-â
âIt was my father.â
â-but that person was wrong,â she continued. âDoing different types of magic isnât just about being smart. Itâs also about being creative and caring and brave and-â And realizing she was just listing House attributes, she stopped and shook her head. âMy point is, everyone learns magic in a different way. Weâre all motivated by different things. Like MC is good at lots of things because everything she learns goes towards helping her find the Cursed Vaults and her brother. Bill is really strong because he wants to protect his family and friends.â She smiled at him. âAnd youâre really strong too. You just need to find what motivates you, especially when it comes to Transfiguration. And Iâll help you.â
Barnaby perked up. âYou will?â
âOf course!â Rowan smiled. âThatâs what teachers do.â She stood up and held her hand out for the Bowtruckle. âNow, are you ready to practice Spongify again?â
MC was walking by the Courtyard when she spotted Rowan and Barnaby and headed towards them. As she got closer, she noticed that Barnabyâs shirt was soaked through and there was a puddle of water at his feet. âAre you sure about this?â she heard Barnaby ask.
And then came Rowanâs somewhat shaky response. âI-I trust you.â
âFelifors!â As she watched, Barnaby pointed his wand at Rowanâs cat, transforming it into a perfect, plain black cauldron. âI did it!â
âYes! Now please turn my cat back.â
âOhâŠright! UhâŠReparifage!â The cauldron spun around and soon, Rowanâs cat was nestled in her lap once again while Barnaby did something that looked like a celebratory war dance off to the side.Â
âHey, you two!â MC called as she joined them. âIt looks like tutoring was successful?â
Barnaby grinned. âI like Rowan. Sheâs really nice.â
âYouâre not going to make her fight you, are you?â MC joked.
âNope.â Barnaby stood up and picked up his bag and the Bowtruckle. âI should take Barnaby Jr home. Bye MC! Bye Rowan! Thanks again!â
MC waited until heâd walked off before turning to Rowan. âSo what did you do, splash him with water until he got it right?â
Rowan scratched behind her catâs ears. âNo, just helped him believe in himself.â
She said it so casually that MC narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but chose to let it go. âBarnaby seems happy. I canât believe you got him to sit still and study for so long.â
âI didnât,â Rowan replied. âI had to getâŠcreative. I guess not everyone studies well by reading a lot of books. Something I learned today.â
MC grinned. âNice job, Professor Khanna. Any chance youâll help me study for Herbology now?â
Rowan winced as she climbed to her feet. âI think I should take Fuzzclaw back to the dorm. Being Transfigured into a cauldron took a lot out of him.â
âSure.â MC stood up. âIâll walk back with you.â She stepped on a particularly soft piece of stone and almost tripped forward. âHey! What-â
âOh, look at the time!â Rowan grabbed her by the sleeve. âItâs getting close to dinner, we better hurry up!â
MC glanced behind her, then frowned at her friendâs suddenly frazzled behaviour. What exactly did her friends get up to when she wasnât around?
Midnight Musings (Rowan x MC friendship)
Summary: When MC canât sleep, her best friend has some words of comfort for her.
Words: ~1500
MC was dreaming again. She was six-years-old, strolling through Diagon Alley with Jacobâs hand wrapped around hers. She stared in wonder at the stores around her, selling all sorts of amazing things â wands, brooms, booksâŠand not for the first time, she felt a stab of envy that Jacob would get to go to Hogwarts first and that sheâd have to wait five more years before she could go.
âHey MC.â She looked up into Jacobâs grin, the same grin she had whenever she had an idea that most of her friends were so afraid of. âRace you to the Madame Malkinâs.â He pulled his hand from her grasp.
And then he was dodging and weaving through the crowd, leaving her struggling to keep up with him. The crowd seemed to move into her way, blocking him from view. âJacob!â she screamed. âJacob, come back!â
âMC!â The ground around her seemed to shake, sending her to her knees. The crowd walked around her as if they barely noticed she was there.
âJACOB!â
âMC!â
MC sat up with a gasp and immediately pointed her wand at the person who was shaking her shoulders. Rowan jumped back with a yelp. âWhoa! Easy!â
âRowan?â The cold sweat was starting to dissipate and now she could feel the embarrassment prickling her cheeks. âI-Iâm sorry. I was just-â
â-having a nightmare. Yeah, I know.â Rowan pulled back the curtains of her four-poster just enough to hop onto the bed, then pulled them closed again.
âHow did you know? I thought I cast a Silencing Charm on the curtains.â
âYou did. Your cat woke me up.â Rowan gently scratched the chin of the smug-looking tiger cat who had crawled into MCâs lap and was now purring contentedly.
âOh.â MC set her wand aside and flexed her fingers. The feeling of Jacob slipping his hand out of hers felt like it had been burned into her memory. She shivered.
âSo?â She looked up to see Rowan raising her eyebrows. âYou want to talk about him?â
âWho?â
âProfessor Snape.â Rowan rolled her eyes. âWho do you think? Your brother.â
âNo.â
Rowan pressed her lips together. âThis isnât the first time, you know. Every time you fall asleep in the library, I hear you muttering his name.â
âI donât-â MC began but Rowan just grinned.
âTrust me. You do. Also, sometimes you drool. Just be glad I donât let Tonks and Tulip find you looking like that, theyâd never let you live it down.â
MC had to laugh. âThe nightmaresâŠâ She sighed. âItâs always the same thing. Iâm a little kid, Jacob is shopping for his school supplies at Diagon Alley. Even though Mum told him to hold my hand tightly, he says he wants to race. Then he lets go, and I canât find him anymore.â
âDid that really happen?â Rowan asked.
MC nodded. âYeah. Except then he found me crying in the middle of the street and bribed me with the biggest earl grey and lavender cone he could afford from Florean Fortescueâs Ice Cream Parlour so I wouldnât tell mum what happened.â
Her best friend wrinkled her nose. âEarl grey and lavender?â
âItâs my favourite!â
âOf course it is.â The other witch chuckled, then pushed her glasses higher on her nose, looking serious again. âButâŠitâs really not such a scary thing, is it? I mean, compared to everything weâve been through.â
MC was quiet for a long time. âYouâre right. Itâs no Ice Knight or Fenrir Greyback. Itâs not even as terrifying as the letter we got home telling us what Jacob had done.â
âThen what is it?â
âI thinkâŠâ MC drew her knees to her chest, dislodging her cat from her lap in the process, who hopped off the bed with his tail held high. âI think itâs because this was the first time I realized that Jacob could let go of my hand.â Rowan squinted in confusion. âAs far back as I can remember, Jacob was there for me. He teased me and pulled my pigtails and hid my toys like a big brother should, but he always protected me. He taught me not to be scared when I fell for the first time. And when I turned a flower in our garden into a spider when I was three, he was the one who taught me not to be afraid of my powers.â
She sighed. âAs long as Iâve known him, heâs been there to hold my hand, to guide me. I was so excited and jealous that he was going to Hogwarts, I knew that it would be my turn soon and I couldnât wait.â
âBut then after he started at Hogwarts, he changed?â Rowan asked.
âExactly.â MC felt her eyes prickle with tears and she dug her nails into her palms to hold them at bay. Not in front of Rowan, not like this. She was supposed to be the brave one in the group (besides Bill, of course), the one the others looked to for encouragement and strength. She took a deep breath as quietly as she could, hoping Rowan didnât notice the little shake in her voice. âWhen he came home for Christmas his first year, I ran to hug him as soon as he stepped off the Hogwarts Express. But he just kind of pushed me aside, handed his things to Dad, and said he needed to get home as quickly as he could. I barely saw him at all, he just spent all his time in his room. He said he was busy studying, but I knew he was lying.
âI wasnât even that surprised when he disappeared. I was just worried for him, and angry at what he did to our parents, and really, really hurt that heâd left me behind.â MC quickly swiped a sleeve under her nose. âAnd then I think back to that day in Diagon Alley and I realize that Jacob left me behind the moment he knew he was going to Hogwarts.â
Rowan watched her with a faint smile, before pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket and handing it to MC. âIâm fine-â MC said quickly.
âJust take it.â MC sighed and dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief. Both witches were quiet for a long time, the silence only broken by the contented purring of MCâs cat.
Finally, Rowanâs head snapped up. âWhy wouldnât you tell me this? You think I donât know how you feel?â
âWha-â
âYou were my first friend at Hogwarts- you were the first friend I ever had! I thought weâd beâŠstudying together in the library, or studying together in the Common RoomâŠor quizzing each other in the Great Hall-â
âBut we do all of those things-â
âI thought that you would be just another student, like me.â Rowan shook her head. âInstead, I watch you throw yourself headlong into any danger that happens to come by without even thinking about it. You didnât hesitate when you duelled Merula, even though you knew that every professor had an eye on you. As soon as you hear whispers about the Cursed Vaults, you drop everything and run towards them. Youâre the bravest, cleverest witch Iâve ever met. And it scares me.â
âWhat?â
âYou scare me, MC.â Rowan picked at the blanket. âI guess I thought weâd be doing everything together. But youâre getting stronger than me byâŠby quantum leaps!â MC chuckled. âI mean it. Youâre so much more powerful than I am and youâre so reckless and IâŠIâm afraid youâll leave me behind.â She took off her glasses, ducking her head. âI know itâs not exactly the same thing. I know weâre not family, but-â
MC leaned forward and pulled her best friend into a tight hug. âIâm not my brother. I promise, Iâm not.â
She felt Rowan nod into her shoulder and sniffle. âI know, MC. I know youâre not.â She quickly wiped her eyes and put her glasses back on. âBut the thought that youâll leave me behind- thatâs what pushes me to get stronger. So that Iâll be there for you, the way youâve always been there for me.â
MC smiled and squeezed her best friendâs hand. âIâŠI appreciate that.â
âBut itâs not just me. Youâve got Penny, and Bill, and Tulip, and Tonks, and I guess Barnaby, and sometimes Charlie, and maybe Ben-â
âI know.â MC smiled. âThank you.â
Later that night, after Rowan had returned to her own four-poster, MC lay back down with her cat curled up on her chest again. Even as its rhythmic purring soothed her to sleep, her mind was still racing.
Every time sheâd thought of Hogwarts, sheâd imagined being Jacobâs pesky little sister, embarrassing him in front of his older, cooler friends. Sheâd imagined hanging out with her friends in the Courtyard, going to class, maybe even trying out for the Quidditch team. But here she was, chasing after Jacobâs shadow, just as sheâd tried to chase after him years ago in Diagon Alley. And the faster she ran, the more she had to wonder if she really was turning into her brother.
Just Friends (Charlie x Female MC)
These drabbles were inspired by a post by @sungoddessraâs theory about Charlie having a crush on the MC, as well as @rvnclwritesâs story (called Charlieâs Crush, check it out!). I wanted to write some drabbles with some quotes from the game. These are some behind the scenes moments about MCâs feelings for Charlie from her POV. Hope you enjoy!Â
Word Count: ~3000
Bill: âNo, my brother Charlie told me. Heâs a second-year like you.â
You frowned slightly at that. CharlieâŠCharlie Weasley? The name was familiar. Maybe Ben had once mentioned that he was a good flyer, but try as you might, you couldnât picture his face. You felt bad- you barely paid attention to people who were not within your immediate circle of friends (or your immediate circle of enemies). But it was okay. Rowan would know who he was.
âCharlie Weasley?â Rowan pushed up her glasses and gave you an incredulous look. âBillâs younger brother? Gryffindorâs Seeker? One of the best Quidditch players in our year? Honestly, (Y/N), how do you not know who Charlie Weasley is?â
You felt your cheeks heat up despite yourself. âHey, Iâm not the only one who forgets peopleâs names! You donât know the name of that Gryffindor kid whoâs been sitting behind us in Charms since last year either!â
âThatâs not the same thing!â Rowan snapped. âEveryone knows who Bill and Charlie Weasley are. It would be like people not knowing who you are.â
âI wish people didnât know who I was,â you muttered, remembering that day after you beat Merula in a duel for the first time back in first-year. The whispers that followed you the moment you entered the Great Hall, head bowed. Weirdo. Freak. Mad like her brother. Nothing you hadnât heard before, but this time, it rankled you even more. All youâd done was defend Ben, and Snape had acted like you were the one who started the fight. Ever since youâd started at Hogwarts, youâd been trying to stay under the radar, to find Jacob as quietly and as quickly as you could, but everyone else in the school made it impossible for you to stay invisible for long.
You remembered glowering at anyone who dared look your way, how most people immediately shifted their gaze away. Even the upper classmen were afraid of making eye contact with someone who was possibly cursed. You could practically read their minds just by looking into their eyes: Sheâs dangerous. Sheâs crazy. She shouldnât even be here. And you remembered the soft brown eyes that met yours, beaming with admiration.
Youâd been so surprised, youâd looked away immediately. And by the time you turned back, heâd vanished in the crowd again.
Oh, you thought to yourself. So that was Charlie Weasley.
Bill: âCharlie told me heâs been meaning to talk to you about the Cursed Vaults.â
You sipped your Butterbeer and looked at Bill in surprise. All around you, your friends were chattering excitedly about having defeated the Vault of Fear and Tonks was teasing the possibility of changing her face to look like You-Know-Who. You had been about to help Penny coax Ben out from under the table, when Bill had quietly murmured those words into your ear.
âWhy?â you asked. âDoes he know something? Like where the next one is?â
Bill shrugged. There was something teasing about the look in his eyes, something you couldnât quite put your finger on. âYouâd have to ask him yourself.â
âI never see him around.â You drained off the rest of your Butterbeer and Madam Rosmerta immediately slid another one in front of you.
âOn the house, dear,â she said with a wink. âI heard youâre to thank for things at Hogwarts calming down.â
âThanks.â You grinned up at her, but staring down at the mug, your thoughts were jumbled. âCharlieâs not looking for the Cursed Vaults, is he?â you asked Bill anxiously.
Bill laughed. â(Y/N), relax. Charlie just wants to help. Frankly, I think heâs jealous of all the fun we have curse-breaking.â
You smiled at his words and let the matter drop, but you were anxious to get out of the Three Broomsticks. Anxious to hunt down Charlie Weasley and demand to know what he wanted to talk about.
But you didnât find him until the End-of-the-Year Feast. As your House celebrated yet another House Cup win, with your Prefect loudly telling anyone who would listen how it was all thanks to you that your House had won yet again, you slipped away from the celebrations, out into the Great Hall.
You wanted to celebrate with your friends and your Housemates, of course you did, but yet another school year had passed and you still hadnât found Jacob. Every day that he was gone, the possibility of finding him seemed smaller and smaller. Rita Skeeter had told you that he was alive, but could you really trust her? What if-
â(Y/N)?â
You realized your cheeks were wet and quickly dabbed your eyes, turning around with a smile so that your friends wouldnât see that you were upset. But it wasnât any of your friends.
âHey,â Charlie said, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring down at the ground. âWhy arenât you in there celebrating? Sounds like youâre the hero of the day.â
âOh, I, umâŠneed to pack.â The excuse was lame, even to your ears. âIt always seems to be the last thing on my mind, what with the, um, stuff going on.â
âYou mean the Cursed Vaults?â Charlie grinned at you and you had to laugh. âEveryone knows that the school would have been destroyed without you.â
A million protests came to your mind. Dumbledore would never let anything bad happen to Hogwarts, the Boggarts were scary but not a real danger, anyone could have done it- but you settled with a simple, âThank you.â
âJust saying what other people whisper about,â Charlie said softly. He held out his hand. âI donât think weâve ever been properly introduced. Iâm Charlie Weasley.â He smiled as his large, calloused hand closed around yours, sending a slight tingle up your arm. âAnd no need to tell me who you are, (Y/N).â
You nodded dumbly.
âIâm sorry you didnât find your brother this year,â he continued. âBut weâll find him next year. And Iâd like to help you.â
As he walked away, your heart felt a million times lighter. And suddenly, the summer didnât seem like such a long time to wait before coming back to school.
Andre: âCharlie Weasley might be a bit better, but I do love Quidditch.â
Andre: âWhat position does Charlie play?â
âSeeker, of course,â you replied as you tossed a Gobstone into the circle. Andre winced as he was sprayed in the face with a nasty gush of fluid and you couldnât help laughing.
âNice move, (Y/N).â
âThanks, Andre,â you grinned, although it puzzled you. From the time you met Andre in Hogsmeade to now, he always seemed to slip Charlieâs name in conversation. The two of you had become fast friends ever since he gave you that coat (which got you tons of compliments, much to your surprise), bonding over Quidditch and fashion and occasionally studying for Transfiguration together.
It was nothing, you told yourself. Andre and Charlie were probably very good friends, because both of them played Quidditch. And you talked about your friends all the time. ButâŠ
But there was something about the way the corner of Andreâs mouth lifted in a smirk, the way his eyes seemed to be carefully studying your reaction, the way his eyebrows shot up when you responded that made you wary of what he was trying to get at. Conversations with your Ravenclaw friends were like playing Wizardsâ Chess- there was always some underlying strategy or motive that they were hiding from you.
âAre you and Charlie good friends?â you asked carefully, and there it was- his head jerked up, his eyes widened, and he missed his next move.
âYeah, weâre pretty good mates,â Andre replied. âThe bloke has no sense of style, but he is one of the best Quidditch players I know.â
You hummed in response. Ever since Rowan had told you who he was, youâd started paying more attention during Quidditch matches. He was good, you thought, remembering his last game, when heâd pulled out of a difficult dive to dodge a Bludger and came up with the Snitch in his hand. Even you had been jumping up and down, cheering for the Gryffindor Seeker.
âWhy?â Andre asked.
âOh, no reason,â with what you hoped was a casual laugh. âItâs just that Iâm such good friends with Bill, Iâm surprised that Charlie and I havenât really talked much yet.â
You tried to ignore the knowing smile on Andreâs face and hoped that your cheeks werenât as red as they felt.
You: âThatâs because Charlie is always too busy for us. The only time we ever see him is in Care of Magical Creatures.â
You: âI knew you were good at calming dangerous creatures, but I didnât think anyone could calm Merula.â
Charlie: âSheâs not that bad. I mean, sheâs really bad. But sheâs not all bad. Just let me know next time she bothers you.â
You could barely pay attention in Care of Magical Creatures that class, which was particularly bad, what with Fire Crabs and a Chimaera somewhere on the loose. You bit your cheek hard to keep from grinning like a total idiot.
It was almost stupid how long you had gone without really talking to Charlie. After all, he was Billâs younger brother and Bill was one of your best friends. You had almost all of your classes together. And yet the longer you went without speaking to him, the more awkward it got.
Which is why in your first Care of Magical Creatures class of fourth-year, you marched right up to him, initially planning on saying something nice, and wound up teasing him about never being around. You were relieved when Charlie took no offense and laughed it off. âYou know me, (Y/N).â Except you didnât.
And then Merula had come over and started going off about how Jacob was missing. And while you were preparing to retaliate, Charlie had stepped in on your behalf. You couldnât believe it. Sure, Tulip and Barnaby stood up to her for you- but only after you showed them friendship that theyâd been desperately seeking but unable to find from Merula. And Rowan, who had eagerly stood up to you against that third-year on your first day at Hogwarts, always shrank behind you when Merula approached.
But here was Charlie, standing up to her without you asking him to. Without even knowing you. âJust let me know next time she bothers you.â
You snuck a glance over at him, where he was diligently sketching a dragon instead of a Fire Crab and found him gazing in your direction. He grinned at you and you quickly looked away, but felt yourself smiling.
âYouâre in a good mood,â Rowan commented as you left Care of Magical Creatures for that day. âI saw Merula approaching you before class. Are you okay?â
âYeah,â you replied. âCharlie- uh, I mean. You know Merula. Itâs just the same insults over and over again.â
âSo what did Charlie do?â You had been hoping that she wouldnât ask, but nothing got past Rowan.
âNothing,â you said quickly. âHe just, uh, he was just nice and patient and that confused Merula and she walked away. It was pretty amazing. Iâve never seen anything like it.â
âMhmm.â There was something about the grin on Rowanâs face that reminded you of Andre. And you werenât exactly sure you liked where this was going.
You quickly switched to asking about some obscure regulation you remembered Rowan mentioning once and she went off, babbling excitedly and leaving you to your thoughts.
Thoughts that kept turning to a certain freckled Dragon-obsessed, Quidditch-playing redhead.
Charlie: âTell me when youâre ready to head into the Forbidden Forest, (Y/N). Iâd like to do some exploring myselfâŠâ
Suddenly, it seemed like Charlie Weasley was everywhere and you again found yourself wondering how you had barely spoken to him before your fourth year. After hatching your plan to get Professor Kettleburn to help you find a way into the Forbidden Forest, it seemed only natural to ask for his help.
âCharlie!â you blurted out one day on your way to class. âCould youâŠcould you help me learn about Bowtruckles with me and my friends?â
Charlie had looked surprised- you could swear that his ears went pink- and then smiled at you warmly. âOf course, (Y/N). Iâll meet you in the library.â
Youâd been holding your breath on your way to the library, and you had to admit it was a surprise to see him sitting at a table with Bill, Rowan, Tulip, and Barnaby, looking like he was already part of the group. You slipped into the seat between Rowan and Charlie and you soon found yourself swamped with books and quietly chatting with the others, swapping notes, sharing gossip, and discussing Bowtruckles.
You stretched and blinked the bleariness from your eyes at the end of the long study session. âThanks for your help, guys. This should help me write that essay on Bowtruckles so I can get Kettleburnâs help.â
As your friends gathered their books and prepared to head out, Charlie had leaned over to you. âTell me when youâre ready to head into the Forbidden Forest, (Y/N),â he said in a low voice. âIâd like to do some exploring myself.â
You felt your face flush and nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Usually, it took a lot of persuasion to get your friends to overcome whatever hesitation they had about joining you on your crazy adventures, but here was Charlie, volunteering himself before you even had to ask. His eyes were sparkling with the promise of adventure, a look you were all too familiar with, having heard Rowan and Ben complain about it every time you mentioned another âmaster plan.â
Charlie winked at you as he shouldered his bag and headed out of the library. You looked up to see Tulip smirking at you. âSo, you and Dragon Boy, huh?â
âWe just met, Tulip,â you said quickly, hoping that no one else can hear you. âWeâre barely friends.â
She propped her chin up on her hand, eyes twinkling mischievously. You wished the floor would swallow you whole. âYou donât have to be friends to like someone.â
âI like him,â you retorted. âAs a friend.â
âMhmm,â she replied. âWell, when you two are in the Forbidden Forest exploring together-â
You balled up a piece of parchment and threw it at her to shut her up, causing Madam Pince to practically Apparate to your side and demand your help shelving books. You almost welcomed getting in trouble. Anything was better than the teasing look on Tulipâs face.
And the thought that she might be right, but you quickly locked that thought in a box that could not be opened with Alohomora and threw it into the sea.
Charlie: âWell done (Y/N). We might have to make you an official Weasley.â
Your heart pounded in your chest and you missed your shot, ducking as the Gobstones sprayed you. Charlie laughed, the sound washing over you like warm dark chocolate washing over you. He had to be joking, right? He had to be doing this on purpose- to distract you and make you lose.
In the months since youâd first started chatting with Charlie, the pair of you were now inseparable. Working on essays for Care of Magical Creatures, cheering him on in Quidditch no matter who he was playing, asking him to hang out after practice- your other friends joked that whenever they needed to find one of you, all they had to do was look for the other. You understood each other in a way the others didnât, and he always seemed to know the right thing to say whenever you started to doubt yourself.
But behind his back, you constantly had to deal with your friends being utterly ridiculous- Tulip waggling her eyebrows suggestively at the two of you, Andre and his constant winking, Rowanâs none-too-subtle excuses for leaving the pair of you alone.
âHey, (Y/N),â Bill said, sliding down across the table from you in the Great Hall at breakfast one day. âI was wondering if you had time today to chat about becoming a Prefect? I know you had some questions and of course, Iâm qualified to answer them.â He puffed up his chest in an exaggerated pose and you laughed.
âSorry Bill, not today,â you replied. âI was going to meet up with Charlie and plan our next visit to the Forbidden Forest.â
âOh really?â Bill grinned broadly at you and you felt your face giving you away by blushing the color of his hair.
âNot you too,â you groaned.
âWhat do you mean?â
You gestured vaguely in the air, attempting to encompass all your friends. âEveryoneâs been so weird recently! Whenever I mention hanging out with Charlie, Penny squeals and Tonks starts making kissy faces and Rowan freakinâ applauds. Charlie and I are just friends, for crying out loud!â
Bill laughed so hard you saw tears come to his eyes as he reached over and ruffled your hair, a habit of his that used to annoy you to no end but that you tolerated because Jacob used to do it too. âAdorable,â he said, standing up. â(Y/N), you are just too adorable.â
That was irritating because Bill was supposed to help when the others were being ridiculous and here he was being bloody useless. It just went to show that no one could be trusted.
But ironing out your plans with Charlie later that day had put you in a much better mood. And now you were relaxing over a game of Gobstones which you had been winning until he said the magic words: âWe might have to make you an official Weasley.â
His soft brown eyes met your own and you felt your insides turn somersaults in a way that they shouldnât be turning if you were just friends like you said. And, as it hit you like a hippogriff that your friends were right, this was bad, why did they have to be right- you wished for once that you could read his mind by looking into his eyes. Because you knew now that you were crushing on your best friend and this was an adventure that you werenât ready to start and didnât know how to plan for.