≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼

Love to write angst and fluff

[superkingvampykitty]

Guys work and school has been kicking my ass….

I have so many unfinished stories I wanna finish but honestly my writing has improved and idk if it would even be worth to rewrite them 😞😔

Also is it just me who loves writing fanfics of dying fandoms because tell me why I have so many Wayne’s world fanfics in my drafts 😭

Honestly if there anything you guys think I should write lmk

[superkingvampykitty]

Come Back To Me Pt:2

Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: Caught between the man you promised and the man you can’t let go, you’re punished by guilt after cheating on Theseus. With your wedding coming up you must choose. Your future or the brother who already owns your heart.

A/n: Thank you so much for all the support on my last two fanfics. Will definitely try to become more consistent by posting every other week. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 3910

-Pure Angst

-Cheating

Can

Newt hadn’t spoken to you since your fever broke.

Not a word, not even one of his soft, half-mumbled greetings that used to fall from him like loose petals. Often you woke hoping Newt would be lying in bed beside you. And every morning, the disappointment pressed deeper when all you found was the empty mattress. Not even Theseus beside you.

Things had become strange between you two. Theseus hadn’t said anything outright, though he rarely did when he was thinking but there was a sharpness to him now. A heaviness, as if some unspoken question weighed on the space between you. At first you thought it was guilt for leaving you sick and alone. But lately you wondered if he suspected something between you and Newt.

But Theseus… he watched you differently now.

There was something guarded in the way he touched your shoulder, something too careful in the way he kissed your cheek while mumbling a hasty goodbye. As if he wasn’t sure you belonged to him anymore. As if he feared pressing too close might unravel something he wasn’t prepared to face.

Maybe he knew.

Maybe he felt the shift the way you felt it, the way the earth seemed to tilt whenever Newt entered the room the brief times he still did for work related things. The way your breath stuttered at the sound of his boots on the floorboards during the moments you accompanied Theseus at work. The way your silence became a battlefield whenever his name was mentioned. Your awkward and unusual demeanor when you two greeted each other.

Yet that could just be your own guilt eating you alive. It gnawed at the edges of every thought, every breath. And you had no idea if Newt had told his brother anything. You had no idea what he heard or what he felt or if he had came home earlier than planned and accidentally stumbled upon you and Newt cuddling.

It was around lunchtime, Theseus promised he would stop by to spend his break with you, yet he was no where to be found. You found yourself staring at your hands, fingers curling in your lap. The plate of once steaming hot food sitting there cold and untouched. He loved your meals you even made his favorite.

You’re being cruel to him, you thought.

To both of them and this was your punishment for it. Slowly losing the two people you cared for so dearly.

And yet you couldn’t banish the memory of you clutched tightly to Newt’s chest, like he was so afraid of losing you again. As he whispered quietly I love you while you drifted off to sleep.

You were supposed to love Theseus.

You did love him.

Just… not the way you loved Newt. Not with the same quiet ache, the same helplessness, the same sense that loving him was something buried deep in your bones that it felt natural.

You got up, not even bothering to put away the untouched lunch. The room felt too small, too warm, too loud with all the things you weren’t saying. You needed air, space wide enough to breathe in without feeling the guilt of either brother’s shadow pressing on your lungs.

Your legs carried you toward the window before you realized you were moving. Outside, the afternoon light fell soft and golden across the street, a gentle, indifferent world that didn’t know you were suffocating. You pressed your palm to the cool glass and tried to steady the trembling that refused to leave your body.

The wedding is only weeks away. That thought had randomly crossed your mind. Only adding onto adding onto the sea of chaos.

You should have been excited, overwhelmed with joy, fussing over every little detail because everything had to be just right. You should have been thinking about vows and forever, about Theseus’ smile when he talked about a future with you. Instead, all you could think of was how the word “soon” felt like a noose tightening around your neck.

Would it be too late to call off the wedding.

All the invitations had already been written and sent out to both of the family and friends. Your dress, that you had begged the ashes to get you despite the price being out of budget but he got it for you because he loved you more than anything in world. hanging in its ivory bag in the closet. The venue booked. The music chosen. The menu argued over. You had made sure everything was perfect just to ruin it all in the end.

You took a slow deep breath, did you deserve any of it?

It struck you only now your future, the one you’d carefully imagined, had crumbled because of your own choices. A hand flew to your mouth as a sob tore its way up, muffled by the noise spilling in from the world outside. You slid to the floor, helpless, your gaze falling to your engagement ring as if it no longer belonged to you… as if you no longer belonged to the life it promised.

I’m getting married, you thought.

But the words felt hollow. Wrong.

You had told yourself for months that you loved Theseus and you did. He was good, and loyal, and steady in ways few men were. You admired him deeply. You cared for him deeply.

But now, when you pictured walking down the aisle toward him, your chest tightened with something that felt suspiciously like grief.

Because you knew not from the fever, not from delirium, but from the clarity that guilt sharpens into truth that your heart had wandered long before you did.

Every thought of the wedding now came with an image of Newt: his soft voice, the way he tucked his hair behind his ear when nervous, the way his presence made the world feel safer, smaller, more real.

You had spent months preparing vows for Theseus. Now you weren’t sure you could speak them without breaking.

Was it fair to marry a man whose brother’s name made your breath hitch?

Was it fair to promise your life to someone you had already betrayed someone who had given you nothing but devotion. Simply because you’d been too selfish, too blind, to realize that the reason Theseus came home so late was to build the very future you always dreamed of?

The answer was there, buried beneath denial and shame but it was there.You weren’t sure of the wedding anymore. You weren’t sure the woman Theseus wanted at the altar even existed.

Not now.

Not after everything.

Not when part of your soul had begun quietly, desperately reaching for

Newt without your permission.

You wiped your face with trembling hands, whispering into the stillness, “I don’t know what to do.”

And lastly the guilt.

God, the guilt was suffocating.

It kept you awake long into the night, staring at the empty side of the bed, wondering if Theseus would ever forgive you for something you hadn’t even meant too but desperately, shamefully did without thinking.

Wondering if Newt would ever speak to you properly again.

Wondering if the silence growing between all three of you was the prelude to a collapse you could no longer stop.

It happened late, later than you expected him to arrive home.

You had been pacing the living room, mind spinning itself into knots, guilt settling into your bone. You didn’t even hear the door open, not until Theseus stepped inside with a heavy sigh and loosened his coat.

“You’re still awake,”he said. Not an accusation. But not warm, either.

You gave a thin smile. Reassuring yourself that maybe he had a bad day at work, “Couldn’t sleep.”

Theseus nodded once, slowly. His eyes lingered on you too long. Observing. Assessing. As if searching for something he hoped he wouldn’t find.

Then he closed the door with a soft click the kind that sounded far more final than any slam.

“Sit with me,” Theseus gestured towards the couch as he slipped of his shoes and loosened his tie. You hesitated, just long enough for Theseus’ brow to tighten barely, but enough. So quickly you followed him.

The cushions dipped as he sat, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together. He didn’t look at you right away. Instead, he drew in a long breath, one that seemed to scrape against something raw in his chest.

When he finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm. As if to mask over something else, “We should talk.”

Your heart ached twisting itself into knots. Of course you two should talk. Of course he had discovered your little scandal with his brother and now he was going to confront you. Of course you just had to go and ruin everything. But the steadiness in his tone frightened you more than if he had shouted.

You lowered yourself onto the couch beside him, hands folded in your lap like a criminal awaiting judgment, “Theseus, I-”

“Please,” he murmured, eyes dropping closed for a moment, “let me… just say this first.”

Swallowing your words. Silence pressed at the corners of the room. Eating you alive as a wave of sickness attacked you from every angle.

“I haven’t been myself lately. At least, not with you. I know that for sure,” With a shaky exhale he rubbed the back of his neck.

“These last few weeks, I’ve felt like I was losing you,” His voice cracked not much, just a fracture but it sent your stomach falling, “And I kept telling myself it was in my head. Stress. Work. The wedding,” His jaw tightened, “But now every time I reached for you, you felt… far away.”

Guilt wrapped around your ribs like iron bands. It was true you too were contributing to your issue. Instead of talking things out with Theseus you pushed him away all together.

“Theseus…” Attempting to call again your voice failed to hold steady, growing quiet and small.

He turned to you at last, and the look in his eyes nearly undid you. It betrayal, fear, and something softer, something desperately holding onto hope that maybe all of this was just some misunderstanding you two could laugh at later.

“When you were sick,” his throat bobbed, “I should’ve been there for you. It terrified me to leave you alone. You were burning with fever, and yet I was still foolish enough to choose work over you.”

Your breath stilled. You felt it and everything inside you shatter into cold pieces. Theseus watched the reaction unfold on your face. The hurt in his eyes deepened.

“I told myself it meant nothing. Newt would never do something like that to his own brother, “But then he kept avoiding you and that wouldn’t have meant much on its own. Newt avoids people all the time except… you were avoiding him too.”

It wasn’t until his eyes dropped to your hands that you noticed the tremor in them. subtle at first, then unmistakable.

“Tell me I’m wrong Y/n.”

It should have been a demand, crisp and sharp the way Theseus usually was when cornered by uncertainty. But it wasn’t. It was a plea, raw, trembling beneath the controlled surface he fought so hard to maintain.

A plea you so desperately wanted to answer.

Your mouth opened, air hitching in your throat as denial formed on instinct. A simple “you’re wrong,” a soft reassurance, even if it weren’t true. Any fragile string of words that might stitch the moment back together.

But nothing came.

Your voice failed you before it even formed, collapsing under the weight of truth you weren’t ready to name. And in the end, your silence answered for you.

A single, breathless second passed.

Then another.

Slowly you watched the realization settle over him, sinking understanding that there was no lie coming, no desperate explanation, no comforting story he could cling. Just the hollow, echoing certainty that your quiet meant more than any confession ever could.

Theseus’ lips parted, just slightly as if the air had been knocked from him. His shoulders sagged under the weight of something heavy and inevitable.

“How long?”The words were barely audible if it weren’t for your dead quiet apartment.

“I- Theseus, it wasn’t…” You rubbed your fingers against your eyes, fighting the pressure building behind them, “I-it wasn’t meant to happen. Theseus please I’m s-sorry...”

“Did you… sleep with him?”

“No,”You answered too quickly, almost tripping over the word, “No, never. I swear it. But I-” The next confession lodged in your throat, sharp as glass, “But I kissed him.”

The final crack in his composure showed. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just a soft, broken exhale, like he’d been struck somewhere deep. He leaned back slowly, staring at nothing.

“And you’re to marry me in two weeks,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched.

“Theseus, I didn’t mean for any of this-”

“I know,” His voice was gentle in the way heartbreak sometimes is, when it has no strength left to be angry. Theseus could never be mad with you he just loved you so much, “I know you didn’t.”

Silence settled again, thick and suffocating. After a moment, he turned his head just enough to look at you.

“Do you still want to marry me?” At this point he didn’t even sound hurt. Just defeated.

You opened your mouth once then twice. Searching for any words that could mend the rift, that could salvage the months of planning, the life he’d been building for you.

But nothing came out. Because you both knew the truth. Theseus watched the struggle on your face, and the answer your true answer showed long before you could speak it.

“I see,” he whispered.

With a sigh he stood slowly, running a hand through his hair, trying and failing to steady himself.

“I think…” He took a shallow breath. “I think it’s best if we push back the wedding.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Quickly you stood ready to protest and beg him to reconsider. That what happened between you and Newt meant nothing and you bare to loose him. Because it was clear there would be no wedding.

“Theseus-”

He held up a hand. Not abruptly just gently as a way to silence you.

“I’m not here to argue with you Y/n, “He shook his head, voice breaking again as he said, “But I can’t keep pretending nothing is wrong. This is best for the both of us.”

More quietly you shook your head, tears already burning, “Theseus, I love you. I do. I never wanted-”

“I love you more,” he said, and though he tried to smile, it wavered, heavy with pain, “More than you could understand. Enough that even when you hurt me, I could never be mad at you.”

His voice softened to almost a whisper, “And part of you… part of you loves him too. Maybe even more than me,” It as like he was shielding you from having to confess it.

Tears blurred your vision. The room felt too small again. Too cramped for comfort. You choked out a whisper, “What do I do?”

Theseus closed his eyes, “Tell the truth. I won’t go to the altar with someone whose heart belongs elsewhere,” he finished softly.

He stepped back, pausing in the doorway as if waiting for you to stop him. Yet you remained where you were and that, perhaps, hurt him most of all. So Theseus left that night leaving you alone to face your own guilt.

Everything was perfect. So painfully perfect.

The dress hanging in its ivory garment bag, untouched and gleaming.

The flowers Theseus had chosen because they were your favorite.

The soft hum of guests gathering outside, chattering excitedly, oblivious to the hollow ache sitting beneath your ribs.

It should have felt magical.

It should have felt like the beginning of the rest of your life with the man you were supposed to love.

But instead, it felt like standing at the edge of something you weren’t ready to walk into. Like the ground beneath you might give at any moment.

Things were still rocky between you and Theseus. No matter how desperately he pretended otherwise.

After he had come home that night after the confession, the silence. He acted like nothing had happened between you and Newt. As if ignoring the wound would make it close. As if pretending it was all fine would erase the truth he already knew.

Instead, he devoted his time to you with an almost feverish determination. Lavish dinners, flowers, gifts, little things and big things, all wrapped up in earnest affection and fear.

It should have made you feel loved.

Instead, it felt like he was building a wall between you and the truth.

Like every expensive gesture was plaster placed over a crack he was terrified to look at too closely.

It didn’t feel genuine not really.

It felt like Theseus was hiding behind the motions of devotion so he wouldn’t have to face the emotions beneath them. And every time he smiled at you, every time he reached for your hand, there was a hesitation in his touch.

As if he was afraid you might run away any moment. Because he knew, deep down, that part of you already had.

You stared at yourself in the mirror now, breath trembling. The veil draped over your hair felt too heavy. The dress fit perfectly, but you didn’t recognize the woman wearing it.

This was supposed to be the happiest morning of your life.

Instead, your heart felt like it was slipping further and further from the future waiting at the alter. You tried to breathe slow, steady, controlled but the air felt thick, syrupy, wrong. Each inhale clung to the back of your throat. Each exhale trembled.

You stared at your reflection, a bride made perfect.

A lie dressed in ivory.

A knock at your dressing-room door ripped through the silence. You flinched at the sound.

“Come in,” you called, forcing your voice to hold steady. You expected a bridesmaid. Maybe Theseus, overly eager, trying to sneak a peek to tease you.

But it wasn’t either of them. The door creaked open, hesitant and to your surprise Newt slipped inside.

Your breath stopped just stopped as if your heart had been jerked backwards by something sharp. You hadn’t expected him. Hadn’t prepared for him. Or even braced yourself for the one person whose presence could unravel every fragile piece of you.

“Newt?” you whispered, barely audible.

Last time you had seen him was after the argument with Theseus. Newt had shown up unannounced, as though he could sense your pain from miles away. Like something in him tugged, pulled, ached until he found you. He stepped into your doorway with rain clinging to his coat and worry etched into every fragile line of his face.

He didn’t ask what happened.

He didn’t have to.

Your eyes told him everything.

You should’ve sent him away.

You should’ve protected him… protected Theseus… protected yourself.

But the moment his arms wrapped around you soft, hesitant, desperate it felt like breathing for the first time after drowning.

You clung to him. He held you tighter. Two people who should’ve known better, but couldn’t stay away. And that night ended the same way it had the last time the two of you were alone.

With a kiss.

The very same kiss that led you to mess in the first place.

He looked like he’d been standing outside that door for hours, gathering the courage to knock. Pale around the edges, shoulders drawn tight, hands shoved awkwardly into his coat pockets like he needed them hidden to keep from reaching for you.

Then his eyes lifted slowly and he saw you. From the dress to the veil. Even the trembling hands you pressed uselessly against your stomach.

He blinked stunned as though he’d walked into a dream he wished belonged to him.

And then, softly “You look… beautiful.”

The word shouldn’t have hurt as they did. You could hear the pain behind it. Like seeing you destroyed him than anything else in the world. As if he knew after today he would lose you forever.

Your throat tightened. Wanting nothing more in the world than to hug, tell him how handsome he looked all dressed up in his suit but that wouldn’t have been appropriate, “Newt… you shouldn’t be in here.”

“I know, “He tried to smile, but it broke halfway up his cheek.He swallowed hard, eyes flickering down, as if looking at you for too long burned.

He drew a shaky breath, ”I just needed to see you. One last time. Before…”

Before you became someone else’s wife.

Before he learned how to live with the ache of losing you.

Before he had to sit in the second row and pretend he wasn’t breaking as you married his brother instead.

He took a step closer just one but stayed a safe distance away. A respectful distance. A painful distance. Close enough for you to feel him yet too far to touch him.

“I wanted to tell you-“ His voice cracked sharply, then softened to something devastating, “That I’m happy for you. For both of you.”

“Thank you, Newt,” you whispered, the words barely forming. They felt too small for the moment, too thin to cover everything inside you.

The two of you stood there in a silence so fragile it felt like touching it wrong would shatter the room. You smiled at each other tight, aching smiles. As if you were both pretending this wasn’t the last time. Like it could make everything hurt less. To help you ignore the fact you were quietly saying goodbye in all the ways that mattered.

Newt blinked hard, eyelashes fluttering as though he could force his composure back into place.

“I should go,” he murmured, stepping backward with the kind of cautious distance someone uses when they’re afraid they’ll unravel if they stay a second longer. He retreated like being near you was its own betrayal.

Your lips parted ready to say anything, anything, to keep him there a moment longer. But nothing came. You watched as he slipped out the door awkwardly and you never regretted not saying anything as much as now.

Again.

And this time, he didn’t look back..

It was now time for the ceremony.

The music started.

The doors opened.

Everyone stood.

You stepped into the aisle, breath trembling, heart pounding painfully against your ribs.

Theseus waited at the altar hands folded, smiling softly, trying so hard to look calm for your sake. He looked proud. Happy. Certain. It was shame the first thing you did was look was Newt.

You should have been looking at him.

You should have been thinking only of him.

But all you could think about was-

Newt.

Every step you took toward Theseus felt like stepping away from Newt. Every vow you were meant to speak sat heavy on your tongue, suffocating you. Your legs carried you forward, but your heart stayed where Newt had been standing.

And it hit you in a single crushing, devastating thought, I’m walking toward the wrong brother.

Your steps faltered. Theseus noticed instantly and his smile dimmed. He could tell from then on that your heart will never belong to him. That there will always be someone else standing in the way of your marriage.

[superkingvampykitty]

Fell On Black Days

Ron Weasley X Reader

Summary: You and Ron Weasley had always been at each other’s throats. But the second talk of his expulsion spreads through Hogwarts, your heart makes a choice your head never would: to take the fall for him.

A/n: Sorry for not posting for awhile I’m currently working on two other Newt fanfics. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 7569

-Fluff

-Angst

-Mention of Child Neglect

Ever since that that day in Potions class during your third year. You and Ron Weasley had been caught in a relentless rivalry.

Professor Snape had asked a simple question about the effects of an Amortentia potion. Which you knew the answer too thanks to your parents making spend hours studying on every subject you would be learning. Nothing wrong with wanting to get a head even if meant missing out on your breaks. But ofcourse your moment was stolen as had Ron spoke before you could even raise your hand.

“They make you fall in love sir,” Ron shouted out confidently.

Professor Snape’s gaze snapped towards him in an instant. Causing Ron to shrink a little lower in his seat, feeling his body became frozen underneath his gaze.

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape’s voice sent a chill through the airs, stopping right in front of Ron’s desk, “Would you care to explain why you’re shouting in my class?”

Ron stared down at his desk, “Er… sorry professor Snape I just thought…”

A few students snickered. Sensing the trouble Ron was digging himself deeper into.

“Thought?” Snape repeated, his usual annoyance more prominent.

Ron went scarlet looking as if he would rather be anywhere but in class.

“That is precisely the problem,” he leaned in, “You thought blurting out the wrong answer was acceptable. You Weasleys are nothing but trouble.”

Hermione shot her hand up, “Professor I believe what Ron meant-”

However Snape shot her a glare so potent she stopped herself mid-sentence.

“Five points from Gryffindor for interrupting. And ten more for Mr. Weasley’s pathetic little stunt,” He sighed impatiently, “Well? Will anyone care to answer?” Snape glanced at Ron, “The correct one this time.”

A ripple of snickers passed through the classroom, though most students weren’t brave enough to speak. You, however who had known the answer since first year raised your hand with a smile far too smug for Snape’s liking.

“Yes, L/N?” Snape asked.

“Actually, the Amortentia potion doesn’t create love at all It just makes the drinker obsess over the person who gave it to them. And the scent varies from person to person, depending on what they personally find attractive.”

“Precisely correct,” Snape’s eyebrow twitched upward the closest equivalent to being impressed. He straightened, turning his attention fully to you, “At least one student had bothered to answer with the correct answer”

A smug smile curled at your lips. Knowing you were better than that rude, mannerless Weasley was undeniably satisfying.

Then Snape’s eyes slid to Ron like a blade turning toward its target, “Unlike some.”

The class snickered again murmuring insults towards the Weasley. Ron had flushed scarlet. And even though he’d tried to brush it off with a halfhearted grumble, it was clear he was beyond embarrassed.

You turned behind you to face him flashing that same smug smile. Ron simply rolled his eyes shaking his head as he refused to look at you.

From then on, your rivalry took on a life of its own.

In class, Ron always sat a desk away from you, arms crossed, ready to

challenge every answer you gave. You, of course, rose to the occasion each time.

If you finished an essay early, Ron made sure his was thicker. If he caught a detail in Transfiguration that others missed, you caught the next one faster.

It bled into the halls. Into meals. Into Quidditch.

Especially Quidditch.

During practice, every time you approached the hoops, Ron guarded them like you were the only opposing player in existence. If you scored, he would make snarky comments. If he blocked you Merlin help the entire pitch he’d shout loud enough for your great-grandchildren to hear.

And truthfully?

It was fun.

Frustrating at times. Maybe even Infuriating.

But nonetheless fun.

Until the day everything stopped being fun.

It was your seventh year at Hogwarts, and today’s big Quidditch match had been canceled because of the rain. Which was ridiculous considering it wasn’t even pouring. It was barely a drizzle.

You were irritated to say the least. Not only had the match you’d been looking forward to, your match against Ron, been canceled, but the Weasley boy was nowhere to be found. Meaning you couldn’t even take your frustration out on him.

So far, today had been the absolute worst, and all you wanted was to sit down and eat. But as you made your way toward your table. You heard whispers spreading down the bench like a potion knocked over. Quick and uncontrollable, carrying panic and disbelief with them. Everyone looked tense, sitting stiffly on the edge of their seats. The atmosphere was heavy. It felt like something terrible had happened and somehow everyone but you already knew.

“Is it true?”

“Did he steal it?”

“I heard he brewed it illegally.”

“No he bought it from some shady guy down in Hogsmeade.”

“I heard he took it before the game and that’s why it got canceled!”

“Well I overheard Professor McGonagall talking about expelling him.”

“What an idiot, who would take liquid luck knowing the consequences.”

“I wonder how Y/n is feeling?”

“Weren’t they dating?”

“I thought they hated each other?”

You froze with your fork halfway to your mouth the talk around you spoiling your appetite instantly. It was as if the whole world around you froze as your mind replayed their words.

Ron Weasley.

Expelled.

Hermione tried to hush the rumors by ridiculing anyone who dared to speak, but her anxious pacing made it clear it wasn’t working. Harry wasn’t doing much better. He kept rubbing his forehead all while Ginny sat there in complete silence.

And you…

Your stomach twisted so sharply you felt nauseous however it was quickly replaced by a wave a of anger. Out of nowhere your fist hit the table hard enough to rattle followed by a frustrated sound coming from your throat. The entire dining hall seemed to quiet, stunned by the sudden outburst. Without a word, you stood and stormed out with your jaw clenched. You couldn’t sit there and listen to them talk much longer.

Walking down the many corridors your mind was flooded with all the things you were going to say to him, yell at him for being such an idiot. You and Ron might have had your moments but it was harmless. Reckless, yes. Horrid words spat here and there. But it was nothing you two couldn’t handle. Not something worth risking his entire future over a dumb rivalry.

However no matter where you went he was nowhere to be seen. By now he was probably being marched out of Hogwarts with his trunk, his ears pink, mouth pulled into that stubborn pout he wore when he was trying not to cry.

That night, you didn’t sleep and when you did it was only for a few minutes at a time. The image kept replaying

Ron, angry and humiliated. Ron, alone.

And the worst part your rivalry, all of it, suddenly felt childish. Small. You would miss the way he tried to beat you at everything. The way he glared at you like you were the only person he wanted to be better than. The way he always, always rose to meet your challenge.

But the thing was it wasn’t about who was better it was about impressing him. As much as you hated to admit it you enjoyed the rare moments he acknowledged your accomplishments. By the time you were able to sleep a decision was already made. A foolish stupid decision.

- -

“It was me who made the Felix Felicis not Ron” There you stood in Professor McGonagall office at the crack of dawn.

“Are you certain this is the truth?” McGonagall’s eyes shifted in confusion. Study you carefully like she didn’t believe you.

After all you were an excellent student, always aced your test, never fell behind and caught on quickly. Often helped those who were struggling. Not mention who your parents were, they’re names were well known around here. So to hear that you were the one behind it was surprising to say the least.

“Yes professor, Ron had caught me brewing it and I threatened him if he ever told on me. So he took the blame for it instead” Quickly looking away before nerves could choke you. You ate remained calm underneath her intimidating gaze.

She exhaled slowly, “This is a grave offense. You dounderstand the consequence.”

You nodded already aware of what will happen.

“However, since you have already completed your O.W.L.s, you will be allowed to retain your wand. I must warn you though any misuse of magic, and the Ministry will intervene at once.”

“Thank you professor.” You felt a little bit of relief knowing your wand wouldn’t be snapped to pieces.

“I expected better from you Y/n.”

“Sorry professor…” A part of you ached at her harsh words.

She dismissed you with a heavy sigh, and that was that. Expulsion papers were already being drafted. The thought of what your parents might say, their disappointing gaze gnawing at you. You almost didn’t want to go home at all. The weight of failure pressed too heavily on your shoulders despite not actually doing anything wrong.

- -

You approached the Weasley’s residence, the morning still cool as you had arrived as soon as you were expelled. Although Professor Macongall insisted saying goodbye to everyone before leaving. You decided it was best to leave without a word.

Your parents hadn’t even bothered to come collect you themselves. Instead, they’d simply sent a carriage with no note, no comfort, not even the courtesy of pretending to care. And so, with nothing and no one left waiting for you, you found yourself standing at the doorstep of the Burrow.

A part of you was hesitant and your legs felt strangely numb. With every second you stood there you questioned everything. Why you cared so much about someone who probably wouldn’t do the same for you.

But you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. You knocked gently the door swung open instantly like the Weasley residence was expecting your company. There Ron stood, his hair disheveled, eyes puffy and red. He looked exhausted in a way you’d never seen. Like he had been up all night crying.

“Hello, Ron,” You stood awkwardly in front of him and for a moment, you genuinely thought Ron might slam the door in your face with the way he looked at you. In all honesty you can’t recall a single friendly encounter between you two. Besides when you acknowledged the other did something that was actually impressive but even those were masked behind frustration.

“Oh Brilliant,” Clearly he was already irritated and your presence wasn’t making it any better, “Just what I needed. Come to rub it in? Tell me I’m an idiot? Because you wouldn’t be the first.”

“What? No,” You clenched your jaw, “I came here to talk. May I please come in?”

Ron let out a short, bitter laugh right in your face. You too were beginning to grow annoyed, “Why would I want to talk to you? Honestly, I think it’s best if you just leave.”

Your mouth opened ready to snap back but before you could, a warm, familiar voice drifted in behind him.

“Ron? Who’s at the door?” Molly Weasley stepped into view, wiping her hands on her apron. It looked like she had been cooking. Her expression softened the second she saw you.

“Oh, hello, dearie! It’s quite cold out. Ron why haven’t you let her in? Come in, come in,” Gently she nudged Ron aside, not giving him much of a choice to protest.

Ron shot you a confused, irritated look as his mother ushered you inside but it’s not like you had much of a choice either, “Ron why haven’t you invited her in?”

“It’s alright Ms. Weasley I wasn’t expecting to be here long,” You admitted.

Molly shook her head as she guided you both towards the kitchen, “Nonsense. Any friend of Ron’s is welcome here.”

Behind you could hear Ron muttered under his breath, “More like a nuisance.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder. If his mother weren’t standing right there, you absolutely would’ve told him to shut up.

As you stepped into the kitchen it was already buzzing with noise and the delicious smells of breakBoth twins were present, caught up in some sort of argument about who was smarter. Their father sat at the table as well, far too absorbed in the newspaper to pay attention to what his sons were doing.

The room overflowed with laughter, teasing, and loud conversations overlapping in every direction. It was chaotic but alive. So different from your own home, where meals were quiet, stiff, and painfully formal. Where the only acceptable conversation was about schoolwork, expectations, and the constant reminder that even being top of your class somehow wasn’t enough.

Molly flicked her wand, and a chair scraped across the floor, sliding neatly into place right beside Ron.

Who was still sulking as he shuffled over and plopped into his seat, muttering to himself. You were able to catch a few phrase,“This is just great” and “Why me.” Not even bothered by the fact you could clearly hear him.

You sat beside him, stiff and unsure, your hands folded tightly in your lap. The warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the cold knot of awkwardness in your chest. You were just here to tell Ron the news he wasn’t being expelled but now you’re having a whole meal with his family who you barely knew.

“Breakfast should be ready soon do make yourself at home,” Molly smiles brightly, already heading back towards the stove. Pots clattered, pans sizzled, and the smell of something warm and comforting drifted through the room.

Across the table, one of the twins, Fred… or maybe George leaned forward. You’d never been able to tell them apart, and honestly, you suspected they liked it that way.

“Well, well, well,” the twin who you assumed was Fred, drawled out propping his chin on his hand, “looks like Ron dragged home another friend” he eyed Ron, who was aggressively glaring at him as if a warning,

“More accurately, look who dragged herself to Ron,” George added.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the other twin chimed in before you could utter a word.

“Can’t imagine it’s for his sparkling personality” Fred shook his head.

“Or his looks” George nodded.

The twins snorted amongst themselves. That same devilish smile on their lips.

Ron’s glare sharpened his gaze landing on the twins, “We aren’t friends. She just showed up here unannounced.”

The twins gasped in perfect harmony, hands slapped to their chests like Ron had just insulted their own mother.

“Now that’s no way to treat a lady, is it, Ron?” George tsked.

“Yeah, Mom raised you better than this,” Fred had his arms crossed shaking his head in the most exaggerated way possible.

Ron’s face burned a furious shade of red. The tips of his ears practically glowed. And the twins, Merlin bless their soul, were clearly enjoying every second.

In fact, Fred leaned in closer looking around to make sure no one was listening were listening before his voice dropped into a whisper, “Honestly, Ron we’re shocked. Embarrassed, even.”

“Humiliated,” George agreed.

“Disappointed,” Fred added.

“A shame upon the Weasley legacy.”

“An utter failure.”

“You’re so annoying!” Ron finally snapped slamming a fist down onto the table. His father peered over the paper but didn’t dare say anything.

“Ronald!” Their mother’s head snapped back giving her son a warning glance before continuing to cook.

Ron deflated instantly, shoulders sagging as he let out a defeated huff. The twins, who were not the ones being scolded for once, wore identical smug smirks. It was clear they weren’t about to give up teasing their brother just yet.

Fred turned back to you with the same mocking tone, “Ignore our dear brother. He’s going through some… developmental struggles.”

George nodded sympathetically, “His brain hasn’t caught up with his height.”

Fred clicked his tongue, “We fear it never will.”

Ron looked like he was seriously considering throwing his fork maybe even the plate at them by the way he gripped it. It wasn’t anything new to see Ron getting upset at the twins. They tormented him every chance they got.

“And besides,” George added cheerfully turning his attention to you,“ You showing up like this so early in the morning.”

“Ron, mate,” Fred cut in as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms,“You’re in trouble.”

“Girls don’t wake up early for just anyone,” George smirked.

“They show up when-“ Suddenly Fred was cut off.

“Ow!” The twins whined in unison as a hand collided with the back of their head. One of the older Weasley brothers had smacked the back of their heads. All while shaking his head though his lips had a small smile.

“Bill! what was that for?” George groaned rubbing the back of his head.

“That’s enough from you two” Bill settled into the chair beside the twins, the bowl of fruit landing on the table with a soft thud. He gave Fred and George one last look before turning his attention to you his expression softening immediately.

“Sorry about them,” he said with an apologetic smile, jerking a thumb toward his younger brothers, who were still rubbing the backs of their heads in wounded unison, “They’ll take any chance they get to be annoying as possible.”

“More like annoying 24/7,” Ron muttered under his breath, still glaring at the twins.

Bill ignored him completely, turning toward you with a smooth, easy smile as he stretched out his hand. “Sorry where are my manners? I’m Bill.”

You took his hand returning the smile, “Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

Then your gaze drifted. You didn’t mean for it to happen it just did. The long scars across his cheek caught the morning light, pale lines against tanned skin. You’d seen scars like that before but never on someone’s face. Your mouth parted slightly in surprise before you could stop yourself. Bill caught the look instantly and let out a short, amused breath.

“Werewolf attack. Looks a lot worse than it really is,” He shook it off as if explaining a scraped knee rather than something far more violent. It wasn’t anything new so big you were surprised it hadn’t left him blind.

“Oh, look at him,” Loudly Fred groaned, “Turning on the charm already.”

George nodded in agreement as he looked over at Fred, “He always does this when there’s someone new around. Tilts his head just right so the scar catches the light.”

“Look at me I’m Bill Weasley,” He mocked Bill’s voice but in a more exaggerated moody way. Tilting his head to pretend he had a scar, “I’m so tall and handsome. Look at my cool scar. Did you know I wrestled a werewolf”

They continued to joke around, laughing and mocking Bill in anyway he could. Bill rolled his eyes at his childish brother’s behavior but you found the way they acted quite amusing. It was like watching a dramatic play.

“Honestly, don’t take a word they say seriously. They’ve been this dumb since they were old enough to talk,” He sighed.

Dramatically George gasped as he clutched his chest, “I’m hurt Bill.”

Fred copied him however he put his hand to his head, “Deeply, how could you say such a cruel thing?”

Bill raised an eyebrow, “Keep going and I’ll make sure Mum finds out which one of you blew up the kettle last week.”

Both twins went to protest but before they could even utter another word their mother appeared right behind them. A cheerful smile on her face as food floated by her.

“Oh it’s lovely to see you all getting along so well hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long dearie” The aroma of delicious smelling food wafted towards you. Causing your mouth to water in anticipation. If only food smelt this good at home. Plates with fried veggies, with sausage and a pastry appeared right in front of you.

Looking over at Ron he did not stare the same amusement as you. Rather poking at the food on his plate with disinterest. His appetite completely gone. You almost wanted to frown if your attention wasn’t immediately drawn back to the food.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Weasley,” you said with a smile, already debating what you should eat first, “This smells wonderful.”

“Oh thank you dearie,” Molly smiled, but her face quickly shifted into confusion. Her eyes darting around the room, “where’s Charlie?”

Arthur Weasley finally lowered his paper, folding it with a soft crinkle and setting it beside his cup of tea. He blinked at the table as if resurfacing from a long daydream.

“Well,” he sighed, “Percy won’t be joining us. Something happened at work again.” His tone suggested that this wasn’t unusual. Not to mention the way Molly huffed at the unfortunate news.

Molly’s smile faltered for just a moment as she set a platter of extra sausages on the table, “It’s just a shame Percy couldn’t make it. I made his favorite,” she murmured, straightening a bowl of fruit that didn’t need straightening.

Everyone could sense the pain in her voice. Percy must’ve been gone often. She let out a soft sigh brushing a stray curl back from her face. Looking back up she caught your worried gaze and mustered up another warm smile.

“So Y/n what brings you by so early this morning?” Molly asked as she took a seat next to her husband.

That’s when the whole reason you traveled all this way came back to you. The news that you so urgently needed to deliver. Somehow, in the blur of the strange morning, the twins’ teasing, and Molly’s warm hospitality. You had nearly let it slip away.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as all eyes were on you, “I needed to talk to Ron,” you admitted, voice a little tight. “It’s… important.”

Concern flickered across Molly’s face, “Oh… is everything alright?”

You shook your head, “Not exactly, but I can’t say too much it’s a private matter.”

At that, Ron stiffened his fork hovering awkwardly over his plate. You could feel his tension thickening. It was as if he knew exactly what you were talking about. He didn’t look at you, but you knew he was listening.

Molly, sensing the weight of the situation, gave you a small, encouraging nod, ”Well then, If it’s urgent don’t let us keep you any longer.”

For once Ron didn’t dare argue. Perhaps it was just because he wanted to get rid of you as quickly as possible. He gave a short, sharp nod and got up letting you pass as he led the way upstairs. His steps were slow, deliberate, like he was weighing every word he might have to say. Once inside his room, he leaned against his desk, arms crossed, avoiding your eyes.

“So… what’s so important that you came all the way here?” he asked,

trying to sound casual but his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his desk betrayed him.

Anxiously, you bit your lip, unsure of how to begin. It had all sounded so much easier in your head than it did now, standing in front of him with your heart climbing into your throat. Ron’s expression grew puzzled as he watched you struggle, and with a shaky breath, you finally forced the words out.

“Ron… I told McGonagall that the Felix Felicis was mine,” You bursted out so fast yiu were unsure if Ron could even hear you

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating painfully heavy. Then Ron broke it. Not with anger. Not with shock. With laughter. A full, uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“Merlin’s beard-” he gasped between wheezes, bending over and clutching his stomach, “For a moment I actually thought you were serious.”

“Ron, please,”You spoke softly, desperation cracking your voice. But he kept laughing, unable, just or unwilling to stop. Finally, the laughter slowly sputtered, then died altogether as he noticed the frown on your face.

Confusion flickered across his expression quick, sharp. Then it shifted into disbelief, “…You’re serious,” he whispered.

Hesitantly you nodded, your throat tightening painfully. “I told her I threatened you if you told anyone it was me. So instead you took the blame”

Ron stared at you as though you’d spoken utter nonsense. His face drained of color, freckles standing out starkly against suddenly pale skin. Before melting into an angry horrified realization.

“Have you gone mad! You’ve been waiting years for me to mess up this badly” Frustratingly he ran his ranger through his ginger hair. Gripping at it from that base it looked like he might tear it out.

Your breath caught taking a slight step back, “I couldn’t bare the thought of you being expelled but I-“

Ron let out a sharp scoff cutting you off mid sentence, “Oh, right. Because you can afford to throw away opportunities and I can’t. Because your parents will just make everything better with money like they’ve done their whole life,” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, blue and burning as he crossed his arms, “Right?”

The accusation hit harder than any spell.You flinched at that because he was wrong. Your whole life was spoon fed to you, given opportunities many could only dream of. But it wasn’t as perfect as he made it out to be.

“You were going to be expelled Ron,” Your voice had began to break with frustrations, “I-I- I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.”

Ron’s jaw tightened. “Doesn’t matter. You think I need you to save me? That I’m just… what, weak? That my life’s so pathetic you have to swoop in and fix it just to make yourself feel better?”

“That’s not it at all!” Your jaw clenched

“Then what is it, Y/n?” he snapped, pushing off the desk and stepping toward you, anger crackling in the air. He was far past keeping his voice down now and if you weren’t so high up, someone would’ve heard him for sure. Ron closed the distance until he was only inches away, forcing you to take a step, but he followed each time.

“You expect me to believe this is some grand act of kindness? That after all those years of torment. Where were you all the other times every I was in trouble, or when my life was on the line. Why now are you suddenly choosing to protect me?”

Your heart pounded in your chest this was proving to be far more difficult than you’d expected. Why were you suddenly caring so much? Normally, if you heard Ron Weasley was getting expelled, you’d be thrilled. Maybe even celebrating with a butterbeer or two. But now the thought made your stomach twist instead.

With a shaky breath, you forced yourself to meet his gaze. He was staring you down, not with hatred, but with frustration and a kind of quiet pain. His eyes trembled, slightly glossed with unshed tears, and the sight alone made your voice falter into silence.

“Because… even if we don’t get along… even if you think I hate you… I don’t want to watch you lose everything, “Your voice softened as you continued. “You have so much potential, Ron. I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing it because I care about you. You’re stronger than anyone I know and honestly I hate to admit but I’m jealous how brave you are.”

Ron blinked, as though struggling to process your words. The anger in his eyes wavered, replaced by something far more fragile something he clearly didn’t want you to see. He shook his head as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

As much as you hated to think about it the last couple of years you have grown fond to Ron and often looked forward to your routinely bickering. As

He swallowed hard, “You still shouldn’t have done it,” he said, quieter this time. Picking at his bedsheets as he avoided looking at you.

“I had to,” You whispered back.

You found yourself slowly sitting beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. And again, the truth pressed at you. As frustrating as he could be, those years of bickering had made him a part of your days in a way you would miss. There were times at school when your classmates would tease the two of you, insisting you must like Ron because of the way you were always arguing. Every time someone said it, you and Ron would put on a show of protest, rolling your eyes, hurling insults, and crossing your arms as if what they said offended you. But beneath all the fuss, there was always something unspoken. Because Ron wasn’t bad looking at all. In fact, he was cute, more than you ever dared admit out loud.

“Ron?” Your hand rested on his shoulder, hesitant but warm. For once, he didn’t shrug you off. Didn’t snap. Didn’t hurl an insult like he was earlier. Instead, he sat very still.

After a long moment, he let out a shaky breath, “Bloody hell this is insane,” he muttered, “Everything with you is always insane.”

You gave a weak laugh in attempts to lighten things up, “You’re not wrong.”

He huffed, but it wasn’t angry. Just tired, confused, humanly huff. His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “Y’know I keep thinking about all those years we spent trying to duel each other behind McGonagall’s back any chance we got.”

You smiled softly, “We weren’t always trying to duel.”

Ron shot you a look, “You tried to burn my hair off in the middle of charms class.”

“You called me a spoiled ferret,” you rolled your eyes but in a playful way.

“Only cause you were flashing your new fancy brooms.”

In your defense you were trying to make Ron jealous. You laughed, “Okay, that one was deserved.”

Ron’s shoulders loosened a fraction, his lips twitching upwards to a slight smile, “We were awful to each other.”

“We were,” you agreed quietly with a sigh.

Ron’s eyes flickered toward you again, “And second year. When I broke my wand. You charmed it back together for me but made it blow up instead.”

“Hey in my defense it only blew up after you used it,” You huffed, but your lips tugged upward, “We both got detention.”

Ron cracked a reluctant smile, “Yeah. Filch made us scrub the trophy room floors. You whined and complained the entire time.”

“You dumped dirty water on my shoes!”

“That was an accident!”

The two of you shared a small breathy laughter. Something that softened the tension in the air.

“And third year,” he continued, voice softening, “When you saved my ass in Potions by yanking that cauldron away before it melted my eyebrows off.”

You snorted, “Only because I didn’t want to look at you without eyebrows for the rest of the year.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was warmth there now.

“And Quidditch,” you added, “When you would only ever put effort in when we went against each other.”

Ron’s ears went pink as he averted his gaze somewhere else, “I didn’t pretend.”

“Yes, you did,” Leaning in closer you teased. Flashing a big toothy grin.

“No, I-” He stopped, groaning and shoving his face into his hands from embarrassment “Bloody hell.”

You smiled, softer this time, “Only a little.”

His hands lowered. His eyes met yours and just started for a moment, “You’ve been different these last few years,” He fidgeted in his spot, “Nicer. Sometimes. When you’re not calling me a prat.”

“You’ve called me worse.”

“That’s because you deserved it.”

A small smile ghosted his mouth before fading. As if an unpleasant thought had crossed his mind, “I only made that stupid potion because I wanted to impress you.”

“What!?-” Quickly you covered your mouth not meaning to blurt out but he just caught you by surprise.

Ron groaned, shooting you a look that screamed both regret and annoyance. Your eyes gleamed with that teasing spark he knew all to well. Though truthfully you didn’t act on it just yet.

“I’m already regretting this,” Running a hand through his hair, he groaned but kept going talking, “I was always jealous of you. You were just so naturally good at everything. And it made me mad every time you something correct the first time.”

Even though those words should’ve boosted your ego, all they did was make your chest tighten. The only reason you excelled at everything was because your parents demanded it. If you failed, punishment followed. Sometimes it was hunger, sometimes something far worse. You were so lost in thought that Ron noticed how you just stared off into space.

“Did I say something wrong?” His voice was, uncertain, lacking the usual confidence or teasing edge. He tilted his head slightly, eyes searching yours, and for a heartbeat he almost felt like he had to call his mom.

Finally coming back to reality you blinked, shaking your head slightly. Trying to push away the knot of memories twisting in your mind, “No… it’s just…”

He shifted closer without realizing it, the warmth of his presence brushing against you. “Just what?” he pressed gently, hands resting on behind him as he leaned back.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between you. “It’s nothing, really,” you whispered, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Ron’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t push. Instead, he hesitated, then slowly but awkwardly crept his hand closer to yours until it settled on top of it. He had braced himself for rejection, for you to pull away immediately but you didn’t.

The room fell into a quiet stillness, each of you actively aware of the small, warm connection between your hands. Ron stared at your joined fingers, a mix of surprise and something softer flickering across his face. His touch felt nice despite the sweaty feeling forming from his palms.

“Tell me another memory,” Attempting to distract you from whatever is troubling you.

You hummed thinking long and hard about one. There was just so many good ones how could you just pick one. Until a certain one crossed your mind.

You leaned closer, shoulder to shoulder, “Remember when you and I got stuck in the library after curfew? And you panicked so badly you tried to outrun Madam Pince?”

“Don’t remind me,” Ron already knew where this one was going. Probably one of the more embarrassing moments he wished you would just forget.

“You tripped over a chair and-”

“IT WAS DARK!”

“You knocked an entire bookshelf over!”

“Only because you were in my way!” His laughter filled the room warm, familiar, and nothing like the harsh burst from earlier. The two you just stared another for moment.

“You know…” he began, voice tight, “I’ll miss all those years we spent arguing.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “So will I.”

His mouth quirked, but the nervousness lingered, “Yeah. And I used to tell myself it was because we just couldn’t stand each other,” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, avoiding your gaze, “But I think that was the biggest lie I ever told.”

“What do you mean?”

Ron’s shoulders lifted, then dropped a shaky exhale, “I mean… I didn’t hate you. Not exactly. I just didn’t know how to deal with you. You were sharp, and clever, and you pushed all my buttons in ways only siblings could. I thought if I acted like you annoyed me, maybe I could pretend none of it mattered.”

You blinked, your heart doing beating unsteadily for a moment, “None of what mattered?”

He finally looked up at you, really looked. Ron’s hand tightened just a little around yours, as if he’d only just realized he was still holding on. His eyes flicked between your face and the space just past your shoulder.

“How much I liked you.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. Everything felt slow from his expression, to the way his breaths shortened, and the faint warmth of his hand around yours. Not because you didn’t know what to say, but because you hadn’t expected him to confess. least of all now, when you were already standing on the edge of goodbye. Probably never to see each other again once you go home. Your stomach swooped, your hands went numb, and you couldn’t tell if the tightness in your throat was panic or something dangerously close to hope.

Ron must’ve taken your silence as an answer, because his face changed almost instantly. The corners of his mouth tugged down into a frown he tried and failed to hide. His shoulders curled inward, and his hand loosened around yours.

“I-I shouldn’t have said anything,” he blurted, voice cracking at the edges. “I knew it. I knew this was stupid,” He laughed, but it was small and breathless and not remotely amused. “Great job, Ron. Perfect timing. Perfect everything.” He shook his head, eyes fixed somewhere near your feet. “I’m sorry. Just forget I said it, alright? I shouldn’t have-“

“Ron.”

“I didn’t mean to make things weird before you go. I swear, I wasn’t trying to ruin the moment or force you into anything. I just thought if I didn’t say it now, I’d never-“ He kept talking, panic speeding him up.

“Ron!” Again you called his name, firmer this time.

He finally stopped, chest rising and falling fast. When he risked a glance at you, his expression was raw embarrassed, braced for the worst.

“I like you too.”

But the worst never came.

“What?”

“I like you too Ron,” Heat began blooming in your throat and cheeks, “I just… couldn’t get the words out. You surprised me.”

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then the relief hit him visible, overwhelming. His shoulders dropped, color rushed back into his face, and his hand tightened around yours again, not hesitant this time but almost disbelieving.

“You- Merlin, I thought I ruined everything,” he muttered, still breathless, “I thought you were about to run for the door.”

You shook your head your eyebrows giving him a puzzled look, “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Ron let out a laugh, shaky and warm, the kind that only comes after you’ve just experienced a near death situation, “You really like me?” he asked again like he needed the reassurance.

With a warm smile you squeezed his hand, “Yes, I do.”

His smile slow, stunned, a little crooked. It made your stomach swoop for an entirely different reason. Relieved that he was finally able to let something that had been bothering him forever off his chest.

“I’m still…” He hesitated, anxiety flickering across his face, “I’m still scared. I want to take this slow.”

“We can go as slow as you want. I’m not in a rush.”

Ron smiled, “Good. ’Cause If I screwed this up I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“Ron I promise you won’t screw anything up.”

“So,” Ron murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your fingers, “Does this mean you’ll no longer be in school?”

“I guess not,” you murmured, staring at the floor. Honestly, you hadn’t thought much about it. About what you were going to do with your life now. Your parents had already disowned you, and you could practically hear the maids and butlers packing your things, ready to pretend they never had a child to begin with .

The thought didn’t make your chest tighten as much as you expected. You were used to walking your own path, even if it was messy, even if it hurt.

Ron’s arms wrapped around you suddenly, firm and grounding. He held you tightly, like he could shield you from all the uncertainty pressing in from every side.

“Thank you, Y/n,” His voice cracked slightly as he held you tighter. Resting his face into your neck.

The silence that followed wasn’t tense or uncertain anymore. It was slow, warm, and full of the quiet realization that the two of you had been circling this truth for years. Finally, you’d stepped into it together.

After some time had pass you and Ron were now laying his bed. Your head resting on his chest and his grip had softened no longer tense, just steady. His thumb traced absentmindedly around your back, like he’d forgotten he was doing it. You could practically hear his heartbeat in the quiet.

Ron swallowed, eyes flickering from the ceiling to your shoulder to your face. Every glance was hesitant, careful, like he was checking for permission he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved. It was cute.

“You know,” he murmured, voice rough around the edges, “if someone told me a few years ago this would happen, I’d have laughed in their face.”

“Which part?” you looked up now resting in your elbow, “The part where we don’t hate each other? Or the part where laying in bed together?”

His ears went red instantly, “Both,” he admitted, “Definitely both.”

A smile tugged at your lips, and Ron’s eyes caught on it—really caught. You saw the exact moment something in him stuttered. His breath hitched just slightly. Neither of you moved, but somehow the distance between you felt impossibly thin.

Ron leaned in, barely noticeable unless you were watching him as closely as he was watching you. His gaze dropped to your mouth for the briefest, moment before darting back up, panicked he’d been caught.

You were close now. Too close. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, to count the freckles across his nose, to sense every ounce of nervous energy winding through him as he thought carefully of his next move.

“Ron,” You teased. Knowing exactly what he wanted. He wasn’t the best at being subtle.

“Yeah?” Slightly his voice cracked.

You didn’t pull away.

He didn’t either.

For a moment the world tilted forward his hand tightening around you, face hovering only inches from yours, his eyes flicking to your lips again with a softness that made your chest ache.

You wanted nothing more than to close the space.

Ron’s shy smile lingered, warm and crooked. And maybe that was why you didn’t even notice you’d leaned in a little closer just enough to feel his breath brush your cheek.

Then your little moment was ruined as the door was slammed open.

Both of you jolted so violently, Ron’s arm flailed, your elbow slipped, and for one disastrous second. It looked like the two of you might actually topple onto the floor.

“I KNEW IT!” Fred’s voice exploded across the room.

George was already at the doorframe, arms crossed, grin spreading like it had a mind of its own, “Look at this! I told Mom you were probably up here snogging. And voilà I was right!

Ron made a strangled sound somewhere between a cough and a dying animal, “We were not-! We didn’t-! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

Quickly you scrambled upright, face burning, but Fred only raised his eyebrows as if you’d just confirmed something, “Uh-huh. Totally not snogging.”

“By all means, don’t stop on our account,” George added, gesturing grandly to the bed, ”We’re very supportive.”

“GET. OUT.” Ron grabbed the nearest object a pillow and chucked it with enough force to be considered a projectile.

Fred dodged it but George wasn’t so lucky, “Such violence. He’s definitely snagging.”

“That’s it,” Ron lunged off the bed, absolutely red from hairline to collar, “I’m going to kill both of you!”

You couldn’t help it but burst out laughing. The shock, the mortification on Ron’s face, the smug twin grins it all collided into something so absurd you couldn’t hold it in.

“First snogging next thing you know they’re married. We should start planning the wedding toast Fred.

“OUT!” Ron shouted, marching toward them.

Both twins put their hands up in defense. George backed out into the hallway, “Alright, alright! We’ll leave you two to your… bonding.”

Before Fred left he winked at you just before ducking out of the doorway, “Have fun with your little snog-fest.”

Ron slammed the door shut so hard the frame rattled. He stood there frozen, shoulders stiff, ears glowing red.

“…I hate them,”Pacing back and forth he groaned.

You snorted. “No, you don’t.”

Ron turned back toward you, still flustered, still red, but with a tiny reluctant smile starting to break through, “Okay, fine. Right now I hate them.”

You patted the bed beside you, “Come back?”

He hesitated just long enough to pretend he wasn’t desperate to. Then he crossed the room and sat down again, closer than before.

That night you stayed at the Weasley’s residence as you couldn’t face your parents. When you did it went as expected. Your bags awaiting for you outside. No goodbyes or nothing. And just like that your very own parents had acted like you never existed. So from then on you lived at the Burrow. Doing whatever you could to help around as much as possible. Even growing closer to Hermionie and Harry, though they were hesitant at first. Everything was different but in a good way.

[superkingvampykitty]

Come Back To Me

Newt Scamander X Reader

Summary - Newt wasn't always the best at expressing his affection, so it wasn’t a shock when you ended up with his brother instead of him. However, with Theseus needed elsewhere and unable to care for you while you were sick, it made sense for Newt to step in. Who better than him to offer help and keep you company through your troubles?

A/n: Made this longer than intended but hopefully you like it :). Might make a part 2.

Word count: 5219

- Slight cheating

- Angst

- Fluff

Everyone believed you and Newt were destined to get together, who wouldn’t with how close the two of you were. Spending any chance you could to hangout with each other. Though it was mostly you starting the conversation Newt didn’t seem to mind having you around. In fact he enjoyed your company because you were one of the few people who didn’t find him to be annoying or strange you actually sat there and listened to him when he went in a tangent about his some new creature he had found. In all honesty you found it quite adorable. Newt wasn’t the best when it came to expressing certain emotions, he was often shy, a bit awkward and preferred to keep his distance from other people. There were time where Newt would outright refuse to go home during the end of the year because a creature needed his help. Of course you would accompany him because you couldn’t bare that thought of seeing him alone. Even if you so desperately begged him to come home just for once but he’d always u that was just how Newt was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

So when you found yourself engaged with his older brother, Theseus Scamander, you began to notice a shift in Newt’s behavior. Because even if it wasn’t said verbally, there was definitely something blooming between you two. Something that would have never worked out even if both of you wanted it to desperately.

Theseus was bold, charming, outgoing, and sometime took everything far too serious, traits that Newt lacked entirely. But where Newt struggled to express his affection, Theseus had a way of making you feel truly seen and valued, in ways that Newt often couldn't quite communicate.

But things weren’t always perfect between you two. Ever since the engagement Theseus was often away at work. Most of the time staying later than he was typically needed. Some nights he wouldn’t even come home at all. So you had grown used to spending long periods apart, cooking your own meals, sleeping alone. Doing everything that the two of you used to do together but now solo. Still there are times you find yourself reminiscing when all his time was devoted towards you.

This time there was no difference, you had been sick for the past week. Extremely sick. The type of sick you were so feverish and exhausted, it had

been difficult to even get out of bed and do basic task. Though Theseus had been with you as much as he could with having to work. He would unfortunately received an urgent owl that required him to leave at once to Paris. Making it extremely clear that he couldn’t stay. By now you had been feeling a bit better but the company of your finance would’ve been preferred.

“I wish I could be here for you,” Theseus sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His thumb brushed over your skin, a gesture meant to soothe, but it only made your heart ache more.

“Do you have to go?” Your voice thick with the exhaustion of both fever and frustration. You gripped his arm weakly, your fingers trembling as you looked up at him. Desperately searching his eyes for any sign of hesitation, yet there was none, “Can’t you just tell them you can’t make it? Please,”

Theseus shook his head as he stepped back to remove your grasp. His attention now turning towards his watch, “Y/n you know my job is important to me, besides Newt should be here any moment to watch you”

Newt.

You hadn’t seen much of Newt lately not since you and Theseus had started dating. And now that you were engaged, things had only grown worse. Newt was still around, still existing in the same world as you, but there was a distance now. A quiet, aching space that hadn't been there before.

Every time you and Theseus attempted to invite him for dinner, he’d politely decline. Offering some vague excuse on why he couldn’t make with a soft apologetic smile. As if just receiving the invitation was a reminder of something left unsaid something neither of you had the courage to talk about.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care you. He still tried to reach out, in his own quiet, unique way. Often times in the form of a note left on your doorstep with pressed flowers native to the place he visiting. Along with a postcard with his picture awkwardly taken as he posed with a new creature each time. He even sent you his book, a signed copy personalized to you with a small note written inside. But even those gestures were becoming rarer. And with each one, there was always the unmistakable sense that Newt was slowly pulling away.

That subtle retreat hurt more than you cared to admit. You weren’t just losing a friend, you were losing Newt. The version of him who once talked your ear off about bowtruckles and mooncalves, the one who would sit beside you for hours in comfortable silence, the one who made the world feel a little softer. Newt’s absence wasn’t just something you noticed. It had become a void inside you that was no longer easy to ignore. You missed Newt.

The thought of being cared for by Newt felt strange, but not unwelcome. He had always been there for you in when you were younger. Even if he didn’t say it you knew he cared deeply for you as much as his creatures. In all honesty it was shocking that he had even agreed to do this in the first place.

When Newt arrived at your flat, Theseus wasted no time in rushing out the door. Rambling some instruction about what to do, what food there was to make and who to contact incase something went wrong. Giving you a quick peck on the head and he was gone.

Newt stood just a few feet away from the door, his fingers clutching the briefcase he always seemed to carry. It’s leather worn from years of use and travel. He hadn’t changed much, not really, though somehow he felt more different than before. He scanned your flat like it was unfamiliar eyes lingering on the changes since his last visit, the subtle shifts in decor, the new arrangements. The silence between you stretched heavy, as if neither of you knew how to break it. Then, his gaze finally landed on you, as if he were trying to figure out what to say.

"Hello Y/n… you ..uh, look dreadful," Newt said with a tentative smile that wavered almost as soon as it appeared. The nervous edge in his voice only made your own smile grow. His words, though blunt, were laced with concern. There was something about the way he always said things so plainly, so honestly, that you couldn’t help but love.

“Hello Newt,” Smiling back your voice was hoarse as you let out a dry sickly cough that burned your throat.

Newt quickly moved to your side without hesitation, his hand brushing against your forehead. His touch was cool and careful. The contrast against your fevered skin sent a shiver down your spine, though it wasn’t a complaint. It was actually quite soothing.

“A common cold,” he murmured, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. A concerned frown dragged at his lips, brows furrowed, gaze distant like he was thinking to himself. His hand hovered near your face for a moment longer than necessary, brushing against your skin with a soft, lingering touch, “Why hasn’t Theseus brewed you a Pepperup Potion?” he asked, the question laced with genuine concern.

“It’s no big deal, Theseus has been busy with work is all” But the state you were in said other wise as you let out another nasty cough. There was a quiet frustration in Newt’s, not directed at you or his brother, but at the thought of you suffering, unattended. His eyes, usually darting and restless, stayed fixed on you.

“Well unfortunately I don’t have the ingredients to make one so how about some tea?” Newt stood from his spot making his way towards the kitchen.

You groaned, “No thanks. All the tea Theseus drinks is so bland”

“Well this is nothing like my brother’s tea,” Fumbling around the kitchen Newt used his wand to pluck ingredients from his bag. You watched in amusement as the items floated out, an assortment of strange powders, herbs, and tiny vials. Amid the mix, his niffler, Teddy, clung to a shiny spoon with all determination it could muster. Newt was quick to catch on to his creature’s escape.

“Teddy, you can’t be out here,” Newt softly scolded, gently prying the shiny spoon from the creature’s tiny paws. Teddy made a disgruntled noise, his muffled protests sounding almost like a series of drawn out whimpers. Peering over the couch you could see and couldn’t help but smile, watching him move with the same endearing clumsiness that always made him so well him.

Newt sighed, giving his niffler a patient look, “You can’t just keep sneaking out of the bag, you know this already Teddy”

His voice was scolding, but there was no real anger behind it. He had never been one to stay mad at his creatures for long, no matter how much trouble they caused. The niffler let out a huff and wiggled in Newt’s hands, as though to say it wasn’t his fault. Newt’s lips twitched into a smile, “Alright you can be out but just for a little” as he turned back to his work, the niffler making its way to his pocket.

Newt turned to face you for just a moment, letting out a soft sigh,“ Do keep a close eye on your belongings,” it was like he could predict the trouble the little creature caused. Who could blame him for being cautious , you can recall all the adventures the two of you had been on all because Teddy had escaped.

It wasn’t long before Newt returned to the couch, carefully balancing a small tray with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of treats, “I think you’ll find this soothing for your throat”

He looked nervous, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether it would be to your liking. Which you didn’t understand why because anytime Newt made something it always tasted wonderful. You gasped as Newt gently placed the tray on the little table that had magically appeared beside you.

"Are those... pumpkin pastries!" You stared in excitement and disbelief. Almost knockimg everything over. The sweet, spiced aroma wafted up from the plate, instantly making your mouth water, "Newt how did you remember these were my favorite? I can’t recall the last time I had one,"

Newt gave a shy smile, brushing a hand over the back of his neck, “How could I forget you dragged me with you almost everyday to get one. They’re not quite like the ones from Hogsmeade,” He admitted, a hint of nervous

pride in his voice, “And the tea is something I learn from my trip to Egypt”

You did not waste a second before diving into one of your favorite treats. The flavors danced on your tongue, rich and comforting, almost as if they were melting in your mouth. It gave you a sense of nostalgia, flooding you with memories of your time back at Hogwarts. And then there was the tea, it was perfectly brewed by Newt. The warmth and depth a lovely contrast to the sweetness of the treat. You couldn’t help but compare it to Theseus, who rarely cooked due to his absence from the house. When he did, it was never quite as satisfying. In all honesty his cooking always felt rushed like there was no love or care put into it.

“Thank you, Newt,” Satisfied with the light treat you have you couldn’t help but feel of tinge of guilt, “But you didn’t have to go out of your way to do this”

He shook his head, “But I wanted to Y/n, I came as soon as Theseus called me. Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without knowing if you were all right”

His words hung in the air, Newt was so unexpectedly gentle, so quietly attentive, that you couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in your chest. It was as if the space Theseus had left empty was now being filled strangely, by his younger brother. The irony of of it. Once, it had been Theseus who was open and affectionate, while Newt kept to himself, more withdrawn and distant as he preferred to company of creatures. But somehow, that dynamic had shifted, and now it was Newt who made you feel seen. And, for the first time, you felt that you weren’t as alone as you.

A pair of cold hand pressed against both your cheeks breaking you away from your thoughts causing you jumped as you realized you were face to face with Newt, he was looming over you a look of concern crossing his face. Startled by the sudden scare, you spilled the still hot tea all over yourself, hissing as it burned you.

“Y/N!” Newt quickly removed the tray. Fumbling for the cloth he always kept in his pocket and began dabbing at the tea-soaked fabric clinging to your skin.You hissed, your breath catching as the burning sensation lingered.

“I—I didn’t mean, I didn’t think I’d—I’m so sorry!” he blurted out, tripping over his own words. He almost didn’t know what to say, “I just—uh—didn’t think you’d jump like that, and now I—oh, Merlin…”

He was clearly spiraling, his hands hovering awkwardly, not quite sure where he should touch or what he should be doing. The cloth was damp now, and he kept glancing between your soaked clothes and your face, guilt flooding every nervous twitch. It wasn’t the most effective effort, but you could see how hard he was trying.

You placed a hand lightly on his arm, trying to calm him down, “Newt. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault I just got startled”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking thoroughly unconvinced. “No, but I—I shouldn’t have touched. Or be less...surprise-y,” he muttered, running a hand through his already disheveled hair “You’re hurt”

You watched as he fidgeted, biting the inside of his cheek, clearly beating himself up far more than necessary. It was just a simple mistake one you weren’t to upset with, “I’ll draw you a bath!” he blurted suddenly, voice a little too loud.

Despite the lingering pain, you couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips. You met his eyes, so full of guilt, concern, and that endearing Newt awkwardness.

“Thank you, Newt. That actually sounds really nice”

His shoulders dropped a bit, relief softening his features, “Just wait here a moment”

Newt hurries towards your bathroom you can hear him say some incantation underneath his breath. A moment later, you hear the sharp whoosh of gushing water filling the tub, echoing off the tiles.Just as he's casting a quick warming charm, there's a sudden splash followed by a delighted chittering sound.

“Oh, not again,” Newt huffed from the doorway, “Teddy!”

Being curious from all the ruckus you stand up and peek around the corner to see his Niffler gleefully paddling around in the steaming bath, tiny paws slapping at bubbles as it tries to dive for something shiny at the bottom. But Newt removed him before he could steal anything.

Newt turned, slightly soaked, holding a dripping, disgruntled Niffler by the scruff, "Your bath's ready," he muttered. You couldn’t help but chuckle as he dried himself with a flick of his wand before tucking Teddy into his pocket.

“Teddy’s just as troublesome as I remember,” With a fond smile, you stepped past Newt. His eyes followed you without thinking until you began to undress.

“Y/n—!” Newt cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink as he averted his gaze towards the floor. The tips of his ears turned red, and he fumbled with his wand, clearly unsure of where to look or what to do. As he wasn’t expecting you to undress so suddenly.

You were amused by his flustered reaction, “Relax, Newt. Remember we used to do this all this.”

He swallowed hard, still staring anxiously at the floor. “I- well, yes, but we were kids back then and now you’re engaged, what would Theseus think?”

You frowned at the mention of his name, the sound of it lingering in the air like a sour note. Slowly, you slid into the warm bath, letting the heat melt the tension from your muscles. The water rose around you, frothy bubbles curling over your skin, cloaking everything but your head in a soft, white veil. For a moment, the room was quiet. Then you lifted one hand from the water, droplets falling down your wrist. The diamond on your finger caught the low bathroom light, throwing fractured rainbows across the tiled walls. It was massive, too big, too perfect and it sparkled with a kind of cruel clarity.

“Why should I care? He couldn’t even bother to get me a ring I actually liked” slouching over your knees you admiring the ring, not with love but with regret. You weren’t a very lavish girl, yeah sure you enjoyed nice things from time to time but only when those things had meaning attached to them. Almost anytime Theseus gave you a gift it was always a ways to apologize for always being away, most of the time the piece was something you would never wear.

Newt cautiously glanced behind him, watching you stare at ring with a gloom expression. He didn’t know what to say and more unsure if you even wanted him to chime in.

“Newt” You glanced up at him, causing Newt to quickly look away.

“Yes Y/n?”

“You don’t have to look away it’s not like you can see anything, come on sit down” you encouraged, causing Newt to open his mouth to protest but ultimately kept it shut.

“Sorry” quietly he took a seat on the toilet seat his eye still glued to everywhere else but you.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked quietly.

Newt blinked, “Miss what?”

“The way things were back in Hogwarts Before everything got… complicated ” You didn’t have to explain what “everything” meant. Your engagement, the way you and Newt had drifted since then.

Newt shifted again, hands folded tightly in his lap. “Sometimes,” he admitted, “But I think… some things are meant to change. Even if we don’t want them to”

You scoffed softly, rolling your eyes not at him, but at yourself, “Change is one thing. But losing a friend over an engagement?” Your voice cracked at the edges, “That’s worse.”

Newt finally looked at you then not directly, just a flicker of his gaze. But it was enough to catch the way you looked at the ring with disgust. Like it was the sole reason to all your problems.

“I never meant to,” he murmured, voice so low it nearly dissolved into the quiet between you. “It’s just… strange ”

Your breath caught, “Don’t play dumb,” you snapped, sharper than you intended, “I’ve known you just as well as you’ve known yourself,”
The words hung in the air like a slap. You saw it in the way his shoulders stiffened, in the way his eyes darted away.

Silence settled like fog. A wave of guilt washed through you, cold and sobering. You didn’t mean to upset him but it was just your emotions talking over.

“I think…” You swallowed, unsure whether the truth would make things better or worse, “I think I loved the idea of him. I wanted it to work. I wanted him to work. I thought if I loved him enough, he’d change. That he’d… become more like you”

Newt blinked slowly, like he was processing each word individually. You almost wanted to disappear in that moment feeling so stupid but what you said was the truth. You and Theseus had nothing in common and the only reason you chose him was because he could give you something Newt couldn’t. Yet here you were, without the affection you sought for in Theseus, stuck in this loveless engagement.

Still, you kept talking despite the ache in your throat, despite the silence pressing down on your shoulders like a weight. Because part of you, the part that had always looked for Newt in every room, hoped he would say something anything to break the unbearable quiet.

“I still kept all those letters you sent me,” you admitted softly, your voice almost trembling, “Actually… everything you’ve ever given me. It’s all in this little box I keep hidden in the back of my closet”

You dared a glance up at him, but his expression remained unreadable. Your face flushed, heat crawling up your neck with every word, but the confessions wouldn’t stop.

“Theseus doesn’t know about it and I don’t plan on telling him. I feel like he’d disapprove. He already hated that you used to send me bouquets of flowers all the time. Said it was inappropriate, like kindness had some kind of expiration date. We got into a big argument that day and I remember he left and went to his office, wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed the night there” By now, your whole face was burning, and tears were streaming down your cheeks in hot, silent rivers. You hadn’t even realized you were crying not until a gentle thumb brushed softly across your skin, wiping them away.

Startled, you glanced up and found yourself face to face with Newt.

His brow were furrowed, eyes filled with quiet concern as they searched yours. He didn’t say anything at first, just let his hand linger, tender and grounding, as if he was trying to soothe more than just your tears.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice soft, but there was something in it something raw and sincere that made the words feel like they were meant with everything he had. It was soothing, but in a way that made the ache in your chest hurt more. You let out a shaky breath, feeling yourself slowly calm, but even then, the sobs still managed to break free in pitiful gasps.

“No, it’s not okay, Newt,” you choked out, your voice barely audible, trembling with the weight of your pain, “It should’ve been you. Why couldn’t it have been you? Why did I have to pick Theseus? I love you, Newt... I love you,”

“Y/n, we can’t…” His eyes were soft, but filled with an ache that mirrored your own. The pain in his gaze made your heart break all over again. You knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

Your breath hitched, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you,

“Why, Newt? Why can’t we? We’ve always been close, we’ve always been this, why can’t it be us?”

"Because I’m engaged, Y/N"

At those words, your world seemed to fracture. For a moment, you almost convinced yourself you were hearing things that this couldn’t possibly be real. The weight of the revelation pressed against you like an unbearable truth.

"What...?" Your voice trembled, the words barely escaping. Your lower lip quivered, and though your eyes burned with unshed tears, you fought to keep them at bay, refusing to let them fall.

Newt sighed, turning his head away like a guilty dog, his fingers nervously rubbing the back of his neck,"I proposed to Tina Goldstein last month"

The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, unmoving, as if the air had been knocked clean out of your lungs. You remembered her, she was a very pretty American girl who helped Newt. It should not come as a surprise they ended up together, they clicked almost immediately when they met.

Newt couldn’t bring himself to look at you,“I thought you moved, I never wanted to hurt you.”

You let out a shaky breath, the pieces of your heart scattering like broken glass inside your chest.

“But you did,” you whispered, your voice raw. “You already have”

Newt flinched, the guilt etched deep into his features.

“I thought I was doing the right thing-”He stopped himself, biting back words he wasn’t sure he had the right to say.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, “Is the right thing telling me after I confessed to you Newt. Why couldn’t you have told me before I embarrassed myself”

You rose abruptly from the bathtub, water cascading to the floor as you seized a towel with a sharp flick of your wand and stormed out of the bathroom. Newt averted his eyes, uncertain as he called your name but he still couldn’t bring himself to truly look at you. He followed anyway, just a few hesitant steps behind

“Y/n, wait! Let me explain!”

But you didn’t want to hear another peep from him. You slammed your bedroom door so hard it rattled the frame, the sound echoing like a final, painful punctuation to everything you were feeling.

You stood there for a moment as your pulse thundering in your ears. A frustrated cry escaped you, raw and helpless, as you slid down the door to the floor. It was as though the entire weight of the day,the humiliation, the confusion, the aching hole in your chest crashed down at once. All the unspoken feelings, the secrets, and the heartbreak, it was too much to handle in your sick state.

A soft knock at the door startled you from your spiraling thoughts,"Y/n?" Newt pleaded, “Please… just let me explain”

But his words did nothing to soothe the storm inside you. You pressed your palms into your eyes, trying to wipe away the flood of tears that had already started to gather. You couldn’t face him right now. Not like this. Not when everything felt so complicated. The silence between his knocks and your refusal to answer felt like an eternity. The door, the space between you both, had never felt so wide.

“I only proposed to her because she was the closest thing to you,” Newt gulped, “After I found out you and Theseus were getting married, I couldn’t sleep I could barely even eat, Y/n. It destroyed me. You were the only girl I ever loved, and I’ve loved you since we were kids. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. I was too scared you’d reject me because you thought I was too weird or annoying”

He let out a shaky breath, his words coming out in a rush, as though the weight of everything he’d kept inside was finally breaking free, “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, not without even trying. So I made a choice a stupid, selfish choice. I thought if I could just… if I could just move on, maybe it would stop hurting so much. But it never stopped”

He paused, a quiet ache in his voice as he continued, "And now, I’ve hurt you Y/n all because I was too afraid to tell you the truth, I love Y/n you’re the only girl I ever felt like this for" The weight of his regret pressing heavily between you both.

You both stood still, unsure of what to say. The only sound was the shallow, uneven breaths coming from the other side of the door. Your mind raced. Newt had never been this vulnerable with you before and yet, somehow, you knew he meant every word.

Slowly, your hand found the doorknob. You opened it gently to find him sitting on the floor, his back leaned against the frame, just like you. His eyes lifted to meet yours, lighting up slightly the moment he saw you but even that flicker of hope couldn’t hide the pain etched into his face.

He scrambled to his feet, as if unsure whether to speak or stay silent. His lips parted, then closed again. But the way he looked at you with such regret, such aching empathy, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stay angry.

Without a word, Newt stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. It was rare he was never much of a hugger. But this time, he held on like he didn’t want to let go.

“Do you… do you really love me?” your voice trembled, almost breaking, as though saying the words out loud might undo you completely.

Newt buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I love you more than anything in the world,” he whispered. And it was all you needed to hear. It was all you’d ever wanted to hear.

The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, unmoving, as time seemed to slow around you. There were no more explanations, no more words. Just the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his heart, and the unspoken truth that maybe… just maybe… things would be okay.

It wasn’t until the sun began to set that Newt gently led you toward the bed. He’d insisted on sleeping in the living room, murmuring something about giving you space but the thought of being alone, even for a moment, made your chest tighten. You shook your head, and after a quiet hesitation, he agreed to stay.

You both lay there in silence, his arms wrapped around you just as before. It was a silence that didn’t need to be filled soft, steady, and comforting. For the first time in what felt like forever, the stillness didn’t feel empty.

Before you drifted to sleep, your fingers brushed against the ring on your hand. You hesitated, then slowly slipped it off something you had never done before. It felt wrong to wear it now. Once, it had felt like a promise. Now, it was nothing but a lie wrapped in gold a reminder of a future you no longer believed in. A ring meant to symbolize forever, yet all it represented was a loveless engagement you felt trapped in.

You had no idea what would happen between you and Theseus, and for the moment, you didn’t care. You were far too exhausted to untangle the mess your heart had become. As you sank deeper into the warmth of Newt’s arms, your mind quieted, and finally fell asleep.

When morning came, the fever had broken. The early sunlight slipped through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold. Newt was still there, curled up beside you, his arms still gently holding you even in sleep. His face was peaceful, and it made your heart ache in the best possible way. You smiled faintly, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to wake up like this every day. To have this kind of care, this quiet warmth, this love.

And maybe.

Just maybe the two of you could be happy together.