#slytherin reader

[basiliskarchives]

Raison D’être Chapter Masterlist:

Synopsis

꧁YEAR ONE꧂

Chapter One: Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions (WIP)

[basiliskarchives]

Raison D’être(D.M x Y.N)

Raison D’être: reason for being or reason to exist

An AU where Draco was sorted into Gryffindor and is friends with the golden trio.

In this au, Draco is sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. He is also much kinder in this au which makes Draco out of character so if you want mean Draco he’s not here. Draco will still be related to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. For future chapters Lucius and Narcissa won't be deatheaters meaning that Draco won't be a deatheater. Bellatrix will still be a deatheater though.

Y/n is a slytherin in this story and she takes on the role as Draco Malfoy. Meaning that Y/n torments students in Hogwarts and torments Harry,Ron,Hermione and Draco. Since Y/n is taking the role of Draco she will be a death eater in future chapters.

This story will be following the Harry Potter movies but have scenes from the books so that I have more scenes to work with!:)

Synopsis:

Y/n L/n and Draco Malfoy. Best Friends before they both went to Hogwarts. Though after Draco was sorted into Gryffindor and Y/n was sorted into Slytherin their friendship started fading.

Draco knew their friendship was over once he became friends with Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. That was when Y/n took it upon herself to make their lives at Hogwarts a living hell.

Was their friendship officially over? Could they ever reconnect? Will Y/n and Draco ever get along? Find out in Raison D’être…

Chapter Masterlist

Divider cred!: @cyberangel-graphics

[thebatwitch-yaps]

Lily Evans x Fem! Pureblood! Reader

Lily Evans.

You scribbled her name out after absentmindely writing it down. You groaned in response- it had been happening too much recently. She must have cursed you to do so, that stupid mudblood.

Speaking of her, she walked into the library - her red hair flowing so perfectly down her shoulders. James Potter following her like a lost little puppy, you felt your stomach tie into a knot.

Surely it was because James shouldn't be trying to get with dirty blood, he should be with a pureblood like himself. Right?

That was until you found her talking with Remus Lupin, some halfblood gryffindor who called himself her friend. She was laughing at whatever he had said making that feeling return once more.

So, you walked right up to the two of them. "Well, well - if it isn't the mudblood and her mutt." You felt your heart race when her green eyes made direct eye contact with you. Your cruel smirk faltering for a moment when she looked away with a groan.

"You again? It's like the third time this week and it's only tuesday." She rolled her eyes but it only made your heart beat faster than it originally was.

"Well, don't make yourself so irresistible-" You paused after saying such, feeling your own shock take over your face.

"What?" She quietly muttered out, a small blush appearing on her freckled face.

"I meant-" You stuttered for a moment before admitting defeat, so you began to retreat only for her to call out to you.

"Don't miss me too much." She called out with a little laugh, though she meant it to make fun of you - you felt butterflies.

That's when you finally accepted that you, a pureblood slytherin, had a crush on muggleborn Lily Evans.

a/n: lily evans is my roman empire fr

[gutsnpussy]

what if i made a george weasley x mudblood slytherin reader story (she/her)? would anyone read it?

[justalittleguywritingstories]

🩸 Lines?! ✏️

Lucius Malfoy x Male!Slytherin!Legal!Reader.

TW: Light gore.

The clink of silverware echoed through the grand Malfoy dining hall, lit by candlelight that flickered across the polished marble. You sat across from Lucius, his pale eyes fixed on you with an expression that was equal parts indulgent and calculating. It was rare for him to share such quiet dinners with anyone, rarer still for someone like you—a Slytherin, sharp and clever in your own right, but never one to seek the spotlight.

You had been careful all evening, tugging your gloves higher every time they threatened to slip. Lucius, however, missed nothing. When the kid leather finally slid down as you reached for your glass, the faint candlelight caught the angry, carved words etched across your skin: I must not tell lies.

His fork froze midair.

“...What is that?” Lucius’s voice dropped, deep and low, silken with restrained fury.

You jerked your hand back, trying to tug the glove over the scars again. “It’s nothing. Just—nothing worth your attention, Lucius.”

But the look in his eyes told you he was far from convinced. He reached across the table with surprising gentleness, capturing your wrist and dragging your hand into the light. His thumb brushed over the raised letters, tracing them slowly as if memorizing the cruelty of every cut.

“This was deliberate,” he said, voice like ice. “Who.”

You hesitated. He could see the truth in your silence. His grip tightened. “Tell me.”

“Umbridge,” you whispered finally, your eyes falling to the tablecloth. “Detention. Her quill… it—it carves into your skin. She makes students write lines until—”

The sound of Lucius’s chair scraping against the marble floor split the silence. He stood, every inch of him bristling with fury, the kind that could shake foundations. His cane struck the floor once, a sharp declaration.

“She dares,” he hissed, pacing once like a restless predator. “She dares mark you like this—she dares mark any student.” His eyes glinted like steel. “That… toad will regret drawing breath in the walls of Hogwarts.”

You barely had time to speak before he was already throwing his cloak around his shoulders, summoning a house-elf to prepare the floo. His rage was palpable, rolling off him in waves that made the chandeliers tremble.

“Lucius—” you began, rising.

He whirled to you, softer for a moment. His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek in sharp contrast to the fury burning in his veins. “You will not endure this. Not while I draw breath.”

That very night, the doors of Dumbledore’s office thundered open without courtesy, the air snapping with Lucius Malfoy’s wrath.

“You allowed her into this school?” Lucius’s voice boomed, each syllable dripping with venom. His cane slammed against the floor, the crack reverberating like thunder. “Dolores Umbridge—torturing children, carving words into their flesh! Do you think the Malfoy family will remain silent while this… this sadist masquerades as an educator?”

Dumbledore’s calm blue eyes lifted from behind his desk. “Lucius—”

“Do not placate me!” Lucius roared, his fury unrestrained. “My consort—” his voice dipped, dangerous and personal now, “was branded in my absence. In your school. And you dare sit here, pretending ignorance?”

Before Dumbledore could reply, Umbridge herself waddled into the office, face pink and smug. “Mr. Malfoy, really, this is hardly—”

The cane cracked against the stone floor, silencing her. Lucius advanced, towering over her, his voice like a lash.

“You will not speak,” he growled. “You will not breathe another word in this castle. You are finished.”

Even Dumbledore, for once, did not intervene as Lucius unleashed his full political might—threats of lawsuits, of scandal in the Prophet, of Malfoy gold pulling every string at the Ministry. By the time his tirade ended, Umbridge was pale, trembling, and effectively dismissed.

Word spread through Hogwarts faster than a flock of owls at dawn. By breakfast the next morning, whispers darted across the Great Hall:

“Did you hear? Umbridge is gone—sacked.” “They say Lucius Malfoy stormed into Dumbledore’s office and tore her apart.” “Apparently it was because of… a student. Someone she punished.”

Everywhere you turned, curious eyes followed. Some glanced at your gloved hands, others at the faint way your fingers curled when you tried to hide them. You kept your head down, but inside, your heart raced.

You hadn’t expected Lucius to go that far. To throw his political weight, his fury, his name, for you.

At the Slytherin table, Your housemates were the most relentless. Pansy Parkinson leaned across the table with a smirk.

“So,” she purred, “which one of us is important enough to have Lucius Malfoy himself storm Hogwarts like a dragon with a toothache? Care to share, Y/N?”

Draco shot her a sharp glare. “Shut it, Parkinson.”

Pansy blinked. “What? Everyone’s saying it was someone in our House. Don’t tell me it was—” She froze, realizing too late the way Draco’s protective glance lingered on you.

You kept silent, focusing on your plate, but your stomach churned.

That evening, an owl swooped in through the Slytherin common room, landing gracefully at your side. Its parchment bore the Malfoy seal. Your breath caught.

You slipped away before anyone noticed, cloak wrapped tight. The letter was brief and written in Lucius’s elegant, slanted script:

“Come. Tonight. —L.M.”

Your pulse hammered as you flooed to the Manor.

Lucius was waiting in the drawing room, standing tall by the fireplace. His expression softened the moment he saw you. He crossed the room in long strides, hands immediately cupping yours, carefully tugging the gloves away before you could protest.

“You still wear these,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the scars. His fury flickered again, but this time it was quieter—controlled, simmering beneath the surface.

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” you admitted.

Lucius tilted your chin up, his pale eyes locking with yours. “And yet now the entire school whispers. They will forget in time. But understand this—” His hand slipped to your waist, pulling you closer. “I will never forget what she did. And I will never forgive.”

You swallowed, voice faint. “You really had her fired.”

“I would have seen her imprisoned,” he said flatly, “had Dumbledore not intervened with his infernal… mercy.” His lip curled. “But she is gone, and that is enough—for now.”

You stayed the night, though sleep eluded you. Lucius insisted, of course—he would not send you back to Hogwarts at that hour. Instead, you sat before the fire in one of the smaller drawing rooms, Lucius’s hand resting lightly on your knee, thumb tracing idle patterns as if reminding himself you were safe.

For the first time, you saw him not just as the imposing figure the wizarding world feared, but as a man who would burn that same world to ashes for you.

And though the scars on your hand still burned faintly, a new warmth began to bloom in your chest.

[captain-clueless]

Anything Else You Wanna Say?

George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader (Female)

Brief Summary

A public kiss. A bloody nose. A confession in the dark. When a fiercely loyal Slytherin finally stops hiding her feelings for George Weasley, chaos and love collide.

The Quidditch pitch was alive with noise — cheers, the pounding of feet on grass, and the shrill whistle signaling the end of the match. George Weasley’s team had won, and the stands erupted in celebration.

But none of that mattered to you.

Your eyes were locked on him as he jogged off the pitch, sweat gleaming on his forehead, his fiery hair tousled by the wind. You pushed through the crowd, boots kicking up dirt, heart pounding wildly in your chest.

Without a second thought, you grabbed the collar of his jersey, pulling him toward you in front of the entire stadium.

Your lips met his in a fierce, breathless kiss — loud, unashamed, and full of everything you’d kept bottled up for years. The crowd gasped, silence cutting through the chaos for a heartbeat before erupting into cheers again.

You pulled back slowly, lips tingling, and met his stunned, flushed expression.

“Hi,” you said, like you hadn’t just devoured him in front of the entire school.

“…Hi,” he blinked.

“You played well.”

“You kissed me.”

“Well spotted Weasley.”

🌷🌸

You didn’t let go of his hand as you left the pitch together. If anything, your grip tightened. You were glowing—mud on your boots, wind in your hair, and something burning wild in your chest.

That’s when it happened.

A familiar figure stepped into your path in the corridor—tall, older, all smug Slytherin superiority and bitter pride. He’d never liked you. And apparently, today was his final straw.

“Oh, look. The Gryffindor pet’s still wagging her tail.”

George tensed beside you, face darkening, “Mate, not today”

“Nah, I think today’s perfect. Thought we had standards, but apparently anyone can wear green these days—”

You were already moving.

CRACK.

Your fist slammed into the boy’s nose, cracking with a disgusting crunch. He stumbled back, blood spraying across his robes as he collapsed against the wall.

“Say that again,” you snapped, fists still clenched.

The boy’s back was half-slumped against the wall, nose bleeding from the punch you’d just given him. You were turning away, satisfied, about to keep walking.

But then—he laughed.

A low, nasally sound through his broken nose.

“No wonder you’re with a Weasley,” he spat, eyes narrowed through the blood. “Takes a poor little mud-loving mongrel to fall for a charity case like that.”

THUD.

You kicked him—hard, boot to the chest, right against the ribs. He hit the wall again and gasped for breath like he’d been hit with a Bludger.

Then you crouched slowly, eyes cool and unreadable.

“Got anything else to say?”

He shook his head, gagging quietly, the smugness fully gone.

You stood. Adjusted your sleeve.

“Didn’t think so.”

George was frozen, somewhere between concerned, aroused, and mentally planning the wedding.

“Remind me never to piss you off.”

“You’d never be that stupid.”

“…No. Definitely not….and wait…wait, you kissed me, then punched and kicked a guy.”

You gave a slow shrug. “And?”

“And I think I’m in love.”

You paused. Blinked at him.

Then grabbed his hand. “Come with me.”

🌷🌸

You pulled him into an empty, overgrown courtyard behind the Owlery—hidden away from the castle noise. Moonlight spilled in through the archways. Moss clung to the stones like time had forgotten them.

You didn’t let go of his hand.

George was quiet now, that usual playful spark replaced with something more cautious. More vulnerable.

“So… about the whole kiss thing.”

You turned toward him. “What about it?”

George dragged both hands down his face like he couldn’t deal with what just happened, “You kiss me and then assaulted someone. Was that just… post-game adrenaline, or…”

“What? No! You fool. That guy he …he deserved it!–George… if you want to back out now—if you think I’m too much—“

He stared at you. Absolutely still. Then, softly…

“No. No, that’s not what I meant.”

A beat passed.

“Then what do you mean?”

He stepped in closer. His voice was lower now—gentler. There was something fragile behind his usual grin.

“I’ve liked you for years,” George said. “Not a little bit. Like—full-blown, eat-my-heart, ruin-my-life liked you.”

You snorted. “Very poetic.”

He went a bit red. “Well. I just… I’ve liked you for so long, and I thought you never saw me like that.”

You looked at him, brow raised. “I was scared. You’re everything I’m not—loud, kind, loved. I didn’t think you’d ever want someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

“You know. A Slytherin. A pain. Complicated.”

He shook his head, stepped closer, hands brushing your arms.

“You’re brave. Smart. Funny when you want to be. And completely unhinged in the most incredible way.”

You blinked. “So you don’t mind that I’m a little…”

“A little terrifying? Love, I’ve watched you jinx someone without blinking. I think I fell for you in fourth year.”

You stared. Heart pounding.

“So what now?”

He leaned in. Pressed his forehead to yours.

“Now we stop pretending.”

You kissed him again. Slower. Softer.

No audience. No noise. Just the two of you.

Until—

“OH THANK MERLIN.”

You both broke apart to see Fred Weasley leaning against a statue with the smuggest look in recorded history.

“Finally! I’ve been watching you two do this ridiculous flirty eye-contact dance for years. You could’ve saved me so much time if you just started snogging earlier.”

George groaned. “Fred—”

“Nope. I’m allowed. I earned this. I’ve been third-wheeling since fourth year.”

You glared. “Did you seriously follow us?”

“I was worried! She decked someone, Georgie. Full-on fist to the face! I thought I’d have to bail her out of Azkaban.”

“Would’ve been worth it,” George muttered, still blinking like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

“You two make me sick,” Fred added cheerfully before leaving. “Mushy little psychos.”

George muttered something about legally disowning his brother and then turned to you, face still pink.

You just smirked and tucked your fingers into his.

“You realise this means I’m yours now, right?”

“Good,” he said, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Because I’m yours too.”

🌷🌸

Extra lil bit

You hadn’t even made it through the Great Hall doors the next morning when someone hissed your name.

“Miss [L/N]. My office. Now.”

You turned slowly.

Snape stood in the shadows like a bad omen, black robes already flaring dramatically despite zero wind. He didn’t wait for you to reply—just pivoted with a billow and glided away like a massive depressed bat.

George gave you a wide-eyed look from the Gryffindor table.

You sighed. “If I die, tell Fred he’s not allowed at my funeral.”

🌷🌸

Snape’s office smelled like old parchment, stronger potions, and years of withheld emotions. You stood silently in front of his desk as he slowly—slowly—sat down, folded his hands, and just stared at you for a moment.

Then—

“What. Exactly. Were you thinking.”

You blinked. “About what, sir?”

“Don’t play coy. I am not in the mood.”

You crossed your arms. “In my defence, he had it coming! I kissed George Weasley and what—now I’m the reason for Slytherins downfall? I just knocked him off his pedestal”

Snape’s nostrils flared. A vein may have twitched.

“Yes. So I’ve heard. Quite loudly. Across three corridors. Because you punched a fellow student—broke his nose—and then kicked him against a stone wall.”

“And yet, here I stand, unpunished. Which says a lot.”

Snape stood. Slowly. The temperature dropped three degrees.

“Miss [L/N], you are in Slytherin House. That alone demands a measure of tact, discretion, and control. You are not some reckless Gryffindor brawling in the halls over every emotional outburst.”

You nodded. “Right. But…”

Snape’s eyes narrowed.

“…admit it. It was kinda cool.”

He stared.

“Miss [L/N].”

“Sir.”

“This is not a joke.”

You bit your lip. “I know. I’m just saying—he said what he said, I responded accordingly!”

Snape began to pace now, robes whispering behind him.

“I expect better of you. I expect my students not to be the source of a castle-wide spectacle. And I certainly do not expect my Slytherins to be fawning over Gryffindors in broad daylight like a bloody comedic act!”

You blinked. “You watched the kiss?”

“It was impossible to miss.”

“…Thoughts?”

He stopped. Faced you fully. Arms crossed.

“Get. Out.”

You dipped your head. “As you wish, Professor.”

And as you turned to leave—

“Miss [L/N].”

He gave you one last glare. “No more hospital visits. No more broken noses. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if you must commit violence, at least use a silent hex like a civilized witch.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if I hear so much as a whisper about Weasley sneaking into the dungeons after hours—”

“You won’t.”

Snape exhaled, picked up a quill, and stabbed it into an inkpot like it had wronged him.

“Get out of my office, Miss [L/N].”

[arglaucus]

Riddle brothers - Stormy night

Masterlist

Summary- Tom (and Mattheo's) little sister can't sleep at night because of the storm

Warnings- thunder, storm, lack of Mattheo, bad writing

Word count: 602

author of divider:@bernardsbendystraws 

It was a stormy night. The wind howled. Rain hammered against the windowsills. Thunder roared and lightning drew across the sky. All lights inside the castle were off. The candlelight was extinguished by the wind. Everyone was asleep. Everyone but one little girl. In Slytherin dormitory a girl clutched her plushie and his beneath her duvet.

Every time there was another thunder Y/n would cover in fear. She tried to be quiet to interrupt other girls’ sleep and to calm down, but it didn’t work. She couldn’t help but silently cry out of fear.

She couldn’t do it anymore. Her fear rose enough. She got out of bed. Her plushie clutched tightly in her arms. The only thing that made her a little bit safe. The only thing besides it were brothers always with her.

Y/n tip toed out of her dorm towards male ones. Even in the dark, when she couldn’t see, she knew the way. She came way too much to not know. During the day she often spent time there with her brothers and their friends. The school year just started so she didn’t have time yet to meet friends.

The door creaked open, and she walked in. Knowing the outline of the room didn’t help her from tripping over other boys’ stuff. That’s just unavoidable. Some smelly socks. Open books, parchments and quills from studying.  And other unidentified objects.

Y/n successfully avoided them without tripping and got in the closest bed which belongs to Tom.  Luckly for her, the bed was big enough for two of them and Tom slept like a log. In a position of a mummy with his limbs straight. She lays on the side with space between them to not wake him up. Key thing she forgot is that he is a light sleeper. Just the dip in bed she made by coming in woke him up or at least brought him in half sleep state.  He could tell someone got in his bed. Before his eyes could even adjust to the darkness, he knew who it would be. Then he felt a gentle tug on his blankets and the warm body of his youngest sibling next to him in the bed.

“Good morning,” Tom says. His voice is groggy from sleep. If she wasn’t who she was, she would be shocked to hear from a usually stoic and serious boy.

Y/n jumps. “Tom!” He shushes her. “I thought I was being quiet.”

“Yeah, quiet as a dragon in a glass shop.” He adjusted himself a little looking at her like he was expecting this. “Storms?”

Y/n nods. “It’s okay. Just hug your plushie and get comfortable under the duvet. I’m here. I’m always here.” She does as he says and snuggles into him. It’s a well-known fact that Tom Riddle does not like affection, but he can make an exception for his scared baby sister. He wraps his arms around her. It was a bit awkward, unfamiliar.

“I thought you decided you were all grown-up when you came to Hogwarts.” Tom says. His voice soft and quiet to not wake others, but also to be comforting for her. “What changed?”

“Maybe being an adult isn’t so fun.” She murmurs in his chest. “And the storm. It’s still scary.” Her grip around her plush toy tightens and at next thunder she gets even closer to Tom.

“Sshh, it’s okay. I got you.” He kisses the top of her head and brings her closer making sure she is all cozy under the duvet. He waited for her to fall asleep before letting himself rest.

BONUS

[nothin-but-fandom]

Y/N and the Slytherin gang.....

Y/N: *sets up camera* Ok! Are you guys ready??

Draco: I think so..... but why are we doing this??

Theo: good question

*Blaise and Mattheo nod in agreement*

Y/N: Because I've been wanting to do this forever now! Anyways, positions!

*Y/N runs to her spot* Ok! 3 and 2 and 1!

Draco & Blaise: Bagel Boys!

Y/N: (dun dun dun dun)

Mattheo & Theo: Bagel Boys!

Y/N: (dun dun dun dun)

All: Bagel Boys,with cream cheese!