cauldron bottoms

From Top to (Cauldron) Bottom

Pairing: Pansy Parkinson x Percy Weasley

Words: 1529

Summary: Somehow, she finds herself in a secluded alcove listening to Weasley prattle on about cauldron bottoms, of all things, but worst of all, she thinks she might be enjoying it.

A/N: Other titles I considered for this fic include: “(Cauldron) Bottoms Up”, “A (Cauldron) Bottom Full of Hot Strong Love”, “Started from the (Cauldron) Bottom Now We Here”

Read it on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11551263

They meet at a ministry function at which Percy Weasley is uncharacteristically drunk.

Well, to be fair, at the start of the night he’s as stuffy and impossibly proper as she remembers, but between the free-flowing wine at dinner and the rather excessive amount of brandy in the dessert and the champagne the minister had insisted on toasting with, Percy is a tad flushed and just the tiniest bit dishevelled, red curls falling over his eyes on one side and tie slightly askew.

She has no idea how they ended up sitting next to each other, but between her mother’s careful social calls to her ministry contacts – which she’s sure have taken the form of at least one large “anonymous donation”-  and Weasley’s job as assistant to the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, they’ve ended up at a table with six extraordinarily dull but undoubtedly important young ministry employees. She has absolutely zero interest in the controversial new broomstick legislation or Hermione Granger’s absurd house-elf charity – which has somehow received support from the Minister himself – but she also knows, with her father in Azkaban and her own reputation rather badly tarnished - that she’s in desperate need of a fresh start.  

So she fakes interest, and nods politely, and sips her wine, and pretends not to notice the fact that she’s had eyes on her all night, and she knows it’s not just because her dress is doing truly incredible things for her cleavage. She tactfully ignores the way two of the ministry employees glance sidelong at each other when she sits down, or the way the rest of them have either summarily ignored her or leaned forward with inane questions that are clearly a horribly transparent excuse to stare at her chest.

The self-important idiots don’t seem to realize that she’s already let go of her prejudices – the important ones anyway, she’s not above thinking she’s better than Granger simply because of that awful bushy hair. But from the vicious “character pieces” that vile cow Skeeter still publishes in the Prophet and the thinly veiled but unmistakably cool reception she’s been receiving all night, it’s clear that the rest of the wizarding world isn’t necessarily ready to do the same.

So she’s taken aback the first time Percy Weasley turns to engage her in conversation. He’s stiff as a board but perfectly polite, blue eyes fixed firmly on her face. She doesn’t really have an opinion on the new requirements for apparition licenses, but he clearly does, and she’s not a Slytherin for nothing.

Keep reading

The Cauldron Bottoms of Percy Weasley

So, reading the Goblet of Fire as an adolescent, I thought that Percy’s cauldron bottom report and his attempts to do something about cauldron bottoms were silly, as clearly is the intended view in the writing- all of the ‘likable’ characters seem to think that, anyway. Rereading as an adult, though, I’m sitting here thinking, ‘oh, that’s a perfectly valid and important thing to be concerned about.’ I mean, is it ground shattering and world changing? No. Is it sexy or romantic? No. Does it give you feelings, like house-elf rights? No. But it is important. Just think: depending on the potion your making, the process has the potential to be time consuming and expensive. Some potions take days, weeks, or even months to brew. Some of the potions ingredients we’ve seen are pricey. If the potion fails because the cauldron fails, all that time and all those resources are wasted. There’s a clear economic motivation to prevent cauldron bottom failure, because of that. More important than the economic reasons, however, is the issue of safety. We’ve seen from the various potion mishaps in the books in Harry’s Potions classes, that some potions are dangerous before or even after they’re finished. You can think, therefore, of the spillage that would result from cauldron bottom failure as the equivalent of a hazardous chemical spill. That’s not something that is desirable. But beyond that, just think what cauldron bottom failure would mean for various important plot points in the books. Just think, if the day before Hermione’s Polyjuice Potion is supposed to be complete in the Chamber of Secrets, her cauldron bottom failed and all that effort was wasted. Think of how frustrated and disappointed Hermione would have been (although unbeknownst to her, it would save her weeks of being a cat-person). Or just think, if you’re making Wolfsbane Potion on the night of the full moon for your colleague the werewolf and right at the last second of brewing, your cauldron bottom falls through, the entire potion is lost and there’s no time to brew more before the moon comes. And then suddenly you’re being eaten by a werewolf. I think you’d find cauldron bottom thickness important then, wouldn’t you? 

Why Bill is the coolest Weasley brother

Here are just some of the ways Bill Weasley shows he is the absolute cat’s pyjamas. Which, in case you were wondering, is far better than the ghoul’s pyjamas…

“Bill was – there was no other word for it – cool.”
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

He’s a curse-breaker for Gringotts

The job title alone sounds pretty awesome. Not only does Bill have goblins for colleagues – notoriously tricky customers – but he also gets to do the majority of his work amid the pyramids of Egypt. He’s pretty much the closest the wizarding world has to Indiana Jones.

He showed us that it’s cool to be clever

Obviously we already have Hermione flying the flag for bookworms everywhere, but Bill is a very smart fellow too. He also seemed a little more cavalier about his intellect than Hermione, who has a Boggart that tells her she’s failed all of her exams and literally turns back time to make all of her lessons count.

Meanwhile, Bill has O.W.L.s coming out of his ears and a Head Boy badge under his belt with seemingly no stress whatsoever. No big deal.

He has style to boot

Mrs Weasley may be in a constant battle with her eldest son regarding his aesthetic choices, but when Harry first claps eyes on Bill’s long ponytail, fanged earring and dragon-hide boots, he deems that his clothes ‘would not have looked out of place at a rock concert’.

Just imagine, for a moment, being Bill Weasley’s rock concert companion; you’d score so many cool points just by being near him. Imagine the inevitable crowdsurfing.

He mocks Percy’s cauldron bottoms

Only Percy Weasley could discuss the topic of cauldron bottoms with such regularity and still manage to keep a straight face.

Naturally Fred and George can be counted on to relentlessly mock Percy and his stiff-collared approach to his new Ministry job, but it is in fact the eldest Weasley brother we can thank for first mocking Percy’s cauldron bottom report – and he even manages to do so while having a mid-air table battle of epic proportions. Classic Bill.

He’s patient with Mrs Weasley’s fussing

We all know how annoying it is to be fussed over by your family, and Mrs Weasley’s niggling of Bill for his appearance must get irksome. That’s if you’re the sort to be irked though, which Bill clearly isn’t.

During one such conversation with his mother, when Molly protests that Bill’s earring isn’t appropriate for work, he puts paid to her argument with a simple, ‘Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure.’ Bill one, Molly nil.

He knows when it’s time to spring into action

Though he’s Mr Laidback the majority of the time, Bill still knows when it’s time to act. When the Death Eaters make an appearance at the Quidditch World Cup, Bill is immediately ready to aid in opposing them.

In the aftermath, although injured, his arm bleeding ‘profusely,’ Bill’s only concern is if the person who conjured the Dark Mark was caught. That’s our guy.

Even Rita Skeeter doesn’t get to him

Some of our toughest cookies have taken the cruel words of Rita Skeeter and her poisonous quill to heart. Hermione, who rarely takes notice of what idle gossips say about her, was reduced to tears by Rita’s slander; Hagrid, the man who befriends bloodthirsty beasts of all shapes and sizes, resorted to hiding out in his hut thanks to her unkind words.

But Bill? Please. He brushes aside being branded a ‘long-haired pillock’ with the greatest of ease.

His wife is amazing too

Almost every other guy in the series had fawned haplessly over the beautiful Beauxbatons student and Triwizard champion Fleur Delacour, but the second she sees Bill Weasley, it’s game over.

As Fleur is ‘eyeing Bill with great interest,’ is he all a dither? Of course not. By playing it far too cool for school, Bill gets the girl effortlessly. Well played, Weasley, well played.

He’s calm in the face of adversity

When Voldemort returns and everyone is, understandably, going to pieces just a tad, even Dumbledore doesn’t seem as brimming with joy as usual.

While Dumbledore enlists people with their duties, worried about the logistics of getting word to Arthur, Bill cuts the Headmaster short with a simple, ‘Leave it to me,’ followed swiftly by a clap of the hand on Harry’s shoulder, a kiss on his mother’s cheek, a swish of his cloak and an admirable striding exit. Now that’s how it’s done.

He took a brutal werewolf attack in his stride like an absolute champ

When Bill is mauled by Fenrir Greyback, he’s scarred for life. This would be enough trauma to drastically alter even the strongest of people.

However, while paying visits to the recovering Bill, Harry observes that ‘in personality he seemed just the same as ever. All that appeared to have changed was that he now had a great liking for very rare steaks.’ Fenrir who?

The Joy of Socks

yeah, idk either, really. Happy birthday, Harry! [AO3]

Presents for Potter: Saviour Seeks Socks

What do you get the man who single-handedly saved us all from You-Know-Who? A luxury holiday? A bottle of Ogdeon’s Finest? Soap-on-a-rope? Harry Potter’s birthday is coming up, and the Prophet managed to secure an exclusive interview with the man himself. We asked what he really, really wants to receive on the big day.

“A wise man once said to me, you can never have enough socks,” said Potter. “Once you reach a certain level of fame, no one gives you socks any more. At the time, I was too young to truly appreciate the remark, but now I get it. Socks are a great gift—and I never get any!”

So there you have it. Harry Potter needs socks! You can send him some, c/o the Prophet, and we will make sure he gets them. But who was the learned individual who gave Potter such advice? Some have suggested that [cont. page 3]

“How many is this now?” Ginny asked, unwrapping yet another package.

“Today? Including those that were sent to work? Or in total? Because I think we must be close to five hundred pairs, by this point,” Harry replied, holding up another pair. “Ooh, look, these ones have snitches on them, that’s cool.”

“This’ll learn you not to speak to the press ever again,” she said, shaking her head. “‘Dear Mr. Potter, I hope you like these socks, I knitted them myself, also thank you for saving us from Voldemort, love Doris Englow, 94’.”

“It never says that,” said Harry. She held up the note. “Oh, how sweet. Honestly though, the Prophet needs to stop claiming I did everything ‘single-handedly’, they’ve never given enough credit to—dear God, those are the most hideous socks I have ever seen.”

“Don’t be rude to Doris! She put a lot of time into them, and personally I think mustard, lime green and beetroot are lovely colour combinations,” Ginny said. “When did you even get interviewed, anyway?”

“Last Tuesday I was coming out of the canteen at work, and some reporter was lurking. They asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and for a moment I felt like channelling my inner Dumbledore. Don’t worry, I’ve learnt my lesson. Never again,” he said firmly.

“I wonder if he knew all he had to do was complain to the national press about not having any socks, and he’d be sorted for life,” mused Ginny. “Look, the Chuddley Cannons have sent you an entire box full of their entire range.”

“Ron’ll be delighted,” Harry said. “I’ll give them to him later, when we all meet up.”

“Great,” Ginny said. “And what about all the rest?”

“There’s got to be some charity somewhere who’ll accept a donation,” he said.

All of these?” Ginny said doubtfully. “What would anyone do with a thousand socks?”

Keep reading

Cauldron Bottoms

Requested by aura218.

Magic might help standardize production, but spells wear off and might not be done by someone that knows what they’re doing. The quality would vary, just as with handmade muggle goods.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between a piece of clothing that will unravel/tear at the first sign of strain and a piece of clothing that’s built to survive an apocalypse. 

And the  wizarding world is a lot smaller than ours. They don’t have Walmart or mass-manufacturing. Obviously this is not to say that the wizarding world doesn’t have some level of mass manufacturing. For example, parchment could be mass-produced. But most stationary is probably bespoke. The wizarding world doesn’t have enough people to sell sets of greeting cards monogrammed with each letter of the alphabet.

And when you have a handmade product, sometimes people skimp on materials where they think people won’t see.

We see a huge variability in cauldron availability. Size, shape, and materials seem to vary. This is problematic for several reasons.

But cauldrons sit directly on the fire, and the thickness and material of the cauldron certainly would effect the quality of the potion. This might not matter so much to Ron and Harry, but certainly this would matter to someone like Snape. And an organization like St. Mungo’s would certainly prefer more standardized potions.

Send me asks/requests here.

You know, Percy Weasley’s dedication to the Ministry of Magic debate on standardized cauldron thickness was made into a joke in the books, but I can actually kind of see the importance. Like, if you’re brewing a dangerous potion (or are a student prone to mistakes that cause the creation of dangerous potions) and your cauldron bottom is too thin, some things might actually wear down or eat through it, causing spills that could potentially seriously harm you. If you don’t get medical attention fast enough, you could actually die. So, good on you, Percy! Save the life of some poor potions-inept student (*cough* Harry and Neville *cough*)

On Percy Weasley

Honestly, sometimes the fandom treats Percy like trash and refuses to consider how he might have felt in certain situations.

Now I agree that out of all the fascinating things in the Wizarding World, Cauldron Bottoms rank pretty low on the topics of interest list. However, Percy was driven and determined to be successful, be it by writing a report on something as dull as Cauldron Bottoms and being mocked endlessly by your own family for it must hurt, at least a little.

I believe that Percy would have had some idea that Fred and George might’ve had something to do with him being sent dung at work. Can you imagine how he must have felt? Percy didn’t have a ‘cool’ job like Bill and Charlie did, Percy wasn’t extremely brilliant and creative at pranks and jokes as Fred and George were, Percy wasn’t best friends with the Chosen One, Percy wasn’t the only sister the Weasleys had. Already, Percy was the black sheep of the family in a way. And all he was doing was trying his hardest to be successful and get to the top. To be someone. Can you imagine how he would have felt, knowing that his younger brothers didn’t really consider or respect his ambitions and instead just sent him dung at work?

But let's fucking talk about cauldron bottoms

Like it’s been a while since I read the books but remember how Fred and George gave Percy shit over his reports on cauldron bottoms?

Like I was making dinner in the cast iron ceramic casserole/ Dutch oven thing, and I was thinking about the bottom and how it HAS to be consistent or the food fucking burns.

But cauldrons?

You make medicine in those. You save children and kill people.

If the cauldron weight and the bottom isn’t consistent and to regulation you KILL people or destroy their lives.

So Percy being passionate about that is honestly like a really great and necessary thing.

HP reread V: a bunch of losers, basically, cont.
  • I’d completely forgotten about the cupid dwarf rugby tackling Harry to the ground to sing a valentine at him. I had also apparently forgotten everyone’s A+ reactions to this, which include Harry “losing his head” and trying to make a run for it before Draco hears the valentine, the dwarf sitting on Harry’s ankles to stop him from escaping and the crowd “CRYING WITH MIRTH.” but do you know what I really want to know? how the hell did Draco Malfoy hold it together when everyone around him was literally weeping with laughter? I have thought long and hard about this, and come to the conclusion that the singing valentine is to Draco as Draco-as-ferret is to Ron. Draco doesn’t collapse with laughter when he hears Harry’s singing valentine because he’s ascended to another plane. he has transcended hilarity. this is the best thing that has ever happened to him and he is going to be calm enough to fix it perfectly in his memory forever, by god!
  • I know I said that my favourite thing about the Chamber of Secrets is that Harry calls Draco his archenemy, but I’m going to have to eat my words. my favourite thing about the Chamber of Secrets is that, for a good seventy pages, JKR lets you think that Ginny walked in on Percy wanking. Percy trying to talk his way around it when he thinks Ginny is going to tell Harry and Ron is pure gold and I am, frankly, devastated that JKR felt the need to RUIN this ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS mental image by announcing that Percy has a secret girlfriend. I would have been happy thinking that Ginny caught Percy wanking forever. it would have flitted to the forefront of all our minds every time Percy talked about cauldron bottoms or Mr Crouch or how Harry was liar and his whole family were deluded rebels. like alright Perce, but your sister saw you tossing off. what now, big man?
  • picture this: hogwarts is in complete disarray. someone is petrifying muggleborns and Harry is hearing voices in the walls. the Chamber of Secrets is open. Harry’s best friend’s sister has just been taken by the heir of Slytherin. Harry has climbed into a dirty sink pipe, narrowly missed having his memory modified, survived the ceiling caving in and finally made into the Chamber itself. Ginny Weasley is passed out on the floor, and a strange projection of a boy harry knows went to Hogwarts 50 years ago is being irritatingly cryptic and has appeared to have nicked Harry’s wand. and what does Harry James Potter, hero of this eponymous tale, think to himself? “there was something very funny going on here.” 
  • needless to say I spent a good deal of my Chamber of Secrets reread looking directly into the camera like I was on The Office.
  • I’ve already mentioned how fantastic I think it is that Salazar Slytherin decided to hide the entrance to Chamber of Secrets in a girls’ loo, but something has occurred to me that is even funnier: Voldemort going down the sink slide. 16 y/o Tom Riddle frowning profusely and whizzing down a sewer pipe with murder in his heart is possibly the funniest mental image I have ever had. this may even trump Percy Weasley wanking like a demon.
  • speaking of Tom Riddle, his diary self tells Harry that he started using the name Lord Voldemort at Hogwarts among his most intimate friends, and that is the best shit I have ever heard. can you imagine how that conversation went? how do you react to one of your mates asking to be referred to as LORD FLIGHT OF DEATH? send him to therapy sessions at St Mungo’s? drag him up to the hospital wing because he’s obviously been hit by a Dickhead Spell??? did they call him “Lord Voldemort” all the time, or did they abbreviate it to Lord? “Lord, can you pass me the mash?” “Lord, can you proofread this charms essay for me?” combine this with him going to cutesy little dinners with Slughorn and buying him sweets to suck up and you can bet most of Hogwarts thought Lord Voldemort was a right fucking knob.
Battle of the Houses

Word Count: 2724

A/N: I love Harry Potter and I love Criminal Minds, so I present a Hogwarts!AU. Tell me what you think! Also thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment on my last fic Adventures in Babysitting. You’re all so kind!


Summary: The one in which the BAU are all Hogwarts professors.


The Great Hall was abuzz with excitement for the weekend. The enchanted ceiling was all blue skies and sunshine, perfect for an afternoon on the grounds. You knew that lessons would be filled with talk of weekend plans.

“Good morning, Professor Y/L/N!” a group of your third year Hufflepuffs called out as you made your way up to the High Table. You stopped for a moment, asking your excited students about what they were up to this weekend.

“Don’t forget about your Care for Magical Creatures assignment,” you warned playfully. You had assigned a short essay on Hippogriffs at your last lesson. They bid you goodbye with laughing promises of at least E worthy essays.

You settled into your seat at the High Table next to the potions professor.

“Good morning,” Rossi said in between bites of sausage and eggs.

“I hear you’re teaching the sixth years how to brew Amortentia today, Rossi?” you ribbed, exchanging mischievous glances with Garcia who sat in the seat by the empty chair next to you. You remember the tittering excitement in the classroom when you had learned about that potion in your own sixth year. Amortentia had always smelled like peppermint, coffee, and old books to you.

Rossi made a disgruntled noise.

“If I catch anyone sneaking love potions out of my classroom they’re in for a weekend of scrubbing cauldron bottoms in the dungeon. Without magic,” he warned, pointing his fork at Garcia sternly. “Even you Professor Garcia.”

“Oh David,” the Divination professor said as she shook her head condescendingly, “I don’t need any potions to get my Chocolate Thunder.”

“Speaking of your Chocolate Thunder…” You pointed at the man walking up to the professor’s table, leaving a trail of giggling students behind him. You let out a laugh as soon as you realized just why they were laughing at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

“You’re looking good today, Morgan,” a smirking Luke called out. Derek shot the Astronomy teacher a half-confused, half-irritated look.

“What is up with you guys? Gideon said the same thing when I bumped into him outside of the greenhouses.” He obviously hadn’t quite caught what was so out of the ordinary.

“Professor Morgan,” Headmaster Hotchner said in his usual no-nonsense tone, “why are your eyebrows blue and yellow?”

Derek paused for a moment before his hands went flying up to his face. A laughing Prentiss transfigured a cup into a hand mirror and passed it to her colleague. As he moaned about his colorful eyebrows, you caught a whiff of that peppermint and old book smell.

You turned towards the History of Magic professor who just slipped into the seat next to you. He flashed you a small smirk before sipping at his freshly poured coffee.

“Professor Reid,” you asked amusedly, “you wouldn’t happen to be the reason why the Head of Gryffindor has Ravenclaw-colored eyebrows, would you?”

“He enchanted all the books in my office to sing Gryffindor is the Best House, Ravenclaw sucks over and over whenever I tried opening them. I had to retaliate,” he admitted matter-of-factly. You shook your head affectionately at the infamous competition between the two Heads of Houses.

Every year, Professors Reid and Morgan engaged in an all out prank war. While the competition was mainly between the two professors, it always pulled in the participation of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students ready to defend their Head’s position as Hogwarts’ Prank King. 

After winter holiday, every person within the walls of the castle was on alert, knowing that at any second, they could fall into a trap placed by a member of those two Houses.

It may have been a dispute between the brave and the wise Houses, but it was very easy to get caught in the crossfire. One year, the usually even-tempered Professor Lewis had put the entire fifth year Gryffindor class in detention for rigging the hallway to the Arithmancy classroom with Dungbombs meant for the Ravenclaws on their way to that class. They thought the Professor would already be in the room and therefore out of the line of fire, but she had been running late and was hit with the smelly bombs as well.

“I hope I don’t get caught in another trap,” you mused, thinking back to the Peruvian Instant Darkness powder incident of last year. Derek had begged for forgiveness, saying he couldn’t have possibly known that Spencer would be with you in your office instead of his own when the owl delivered the package.

You felt pressure on your right hand.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll protect you,” Spencer said only half-jokingly, brushing his thumb against your skin. You felt a warm tingle travel up your spine and fought to keep the blush off your face. Garcia’s suggestive look from behind Spencer did not help one bit. He gave your hand one last squeeze before angry footsteps approached your side of the table.

“Hello, Professor Morgan, you’re looking lovely,” Spencer greeted mildly, not even bothering to hide the smug look on his face.

“You better watch your back, pretty boy,” Derek warned, Ravenclaw eyebrows set menacingly, before storming off to JJ, probably hoping her expertise in Charms could rid him of any evidence of Reid’s prank.

“As resident expert of Magical Creatures, would you be able to tell me if we had any Billywig hives in the Forbidden Forest?” Spencer asked you innocently.

“I refuse to be an accomplice to your crimes,” you deadpanned, earning a whine from the Ravenclaw professor.

“It’s not like Aurors will be kicking down the castle doors to arrest me for making Morgan float a little.”

You shook your head firmly before going back to your breakfast, refusing to think about how cute a pouting Spencer was.


You met Spencer Reid on your first ride on the Hogwarts Express. He had been sitting alone in a compartment, surrounded by books you recognized as first year school books just like yours. He offered you a seat and as soon as you mentioned your Muggleborn status he had launched into a lengthy explanation of everything he knew about Hogwarts. Which was a lot.

But when you asked him about Quidditch and flying, he admitted he probably wasn’t the best person to ask about the Wizarding sport and took you to find his friend Derek, who was in third year at the time.

On that train ride you were introduced to Spencer’s two closest friends. The three had grown up together in the Wizarding world. Spencer was a half-blood who was basically raised by his mother alone. Derek came from a long line of wizards and Penelope had been adopted by a magical family after her Muggle parents passed away. 

Your initial fear of meeting these older students was quickly washed away by their warm welcome. The colorful third year you’d later fondly refer to as Penny was the first to greet you at the Hufflepuff table after your Sorting.

Though you were sorted into different houses, the friendship between you and Spencer blossomed throughout your Hogwarts years.

One time, a horrid Slytherin boy had been insulting your Muggle heritage and Spencer had stuck him onto a wall in retaliation until he apologized and swore he would leave you alone.

You had convinced yourself that your feelings for Spencer were purely platonic ever since a strange almost-kiss occurred in fifth year. You were just friends that had an awkward moment, you told yourself often. Your little feelings were purely a result of a strong friendship and raging teenage hormones. And you believed it.

Until the day Professor Rossi taught that Godric-forsaken Amortentia lesson. You walked into that lesson and the most comforting scent wafted throughout the dungeon. You thought nothing of it as the lesson went on and didn’t realize anything was amiss until that same exact smell appeared in the library well after your potions lesson.

Your stomach sank when a smiling Spencer settled into the seat across from you, animatedly talking about some discussion he had with his Ancient Runes instructor, Professor Blake.

You vowed to keep your feelings a secret, never wanting to ruin the friendship between you two.

The only person you ever told was Penelope, which had been an accident really. You had both been accepted as Hogwarts professors and had a celebratory night of drinks. Too many drinks, in your opinion.

Your girl’s night at the Leaky Cauldron had turned into an all night drunken confessional about your feelings for your best friend over bottles and bottles of Firewhiskey.

When Spencer and Morgan left the Auror force to teach at Hogwarts, you were more than happy to have your closest friends working with you. The four of you and the rest of the teaching staff had actually become quite the tight knit family over the years.

A family that often teased you about what was apparently your obvious secret relationship with the History of Magic professor. You cursed Penelope and her habit of sharing everything with Morgan. You often squashed the rumors before they could reach Spencer, fearing he’d find out and reject you, making an awkward mess out of everything.

You had been very good at keeping your feelings a secret from your best friend and you were determined to keep it that way.


You were walking down the halls of the castle, on your way to Garcia’s for afternoon tea. Professor Callahan was 6 months pregnant and about to go on maternity leave, so Garcia wanted all of the female professors to spend as much time together before they had to say goodbye to their friend. You heard the temporary substitute for Kate’s Muggle Studies class was quite good, but it was still sad to have a friend leave.

As you turned the corner, you collided with an invisible barrier.

“What in Merlin’s name…?” You walked in another direction in order to get around the obstacle, but found yourself trapped in that one spot. You glanced up and groaned at the source of the barrier.

Enchanted mistletoe. Damn.

Finite incantatem!” The invisible barrier stayed stubbornly in place. You were royally screwed.

“Y/N!”

You panicked at the sight of Spencer walking towards you.

“Reid, no don’t come any -”

Too late.

“… closer.”

You brought your hands up to your face in frustration, doing nothing more than pointing up to the ceiling when Spencer asked you what was wrong.

“Oh.”

“Was this one of yours?” you asked, positive that this was part of the prank war.

“Do you honestly think I’d get caught in my own trap, Y/N?” He glared up at the sprig of mistletoe above your heads. “This is too unpredictable of a trap for Derek to set for me personally. I just happened to be in the hallway by chance. It had to be one of the students.”

The two of you tried multiple spells to get out of the trap. You had even tried setting the mistletoe on fire, but all that came out of that was a couple of singed eyebrows for Spencer. You were at it for a while, frustration building after each failed spell.

“What about finite?” Spencer asked, laughing as if he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that before.

“Hate to break it to you, genius, but that was the first spell I tried. Obviously it didn’t work.” You tapped your wand against the palm of your hand impatiently.

Spencer cast the spell, despite your words, sighing when it didn’t have any effect. You frowned, poking him in the chest with your wand.

“Do you doubt my ability to cast a fourth year level spell?”

“No, of course not! I just - I was just - I’m just desperate to get out of here!”

“Well, why don’t I just kiss you?” you blurted out. “L-like on the cheek! You know not an actual - I’ve kissed you on the cheek before! I -”

You were silenced by Spencer swooping in to press a swift kiss to your right cheek. He pulled away unfazed, waving his hand around, only to hit the invisible barrier once again.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the Flitterby moths in your stomach. It was a simple press of lips to cheek, for Godric’s sake! It wasn’t like he had grabbed you by the waist and kissed you passionately like a starved man!

“So that didn’t work.” You managed to keep your voice even and nonchalant, despite your inner rambling. 

The two of you stood in silence, poking uselessly at the invisible wall with your wands.

“Well, well, well… What do we have here?” You groaned at the sound of Morgan’s smug voice. He appeared around the corner, grinning like Peeves with a water balloon at the two of you under that damned plant. “While I can’t take credit for this, I’ve gotta hand it to whoever did.”

“Morgan, just get us out of here,” Spencer begged. “I’ll grade your next set of Defense essays for you!”

“Tempting.” Morgan rubbed his chin, taking ages to contemplate the offer.

“Come on, Derek!” You jabbed at the barrier, sending sparks out of the end of your wand. “I was supposed to meet Pen and the girls 30 minutes ago!”

“You would think that two people as smart as yourselves would know the easiest way to get out of this.”

“We already tried that.” You rolled your eyes. “Just help us.”

“Oh come on, if it’d been a real kiss we wouldn’t be here right now,” Morgan argued.

You could basically feel the goading behind his words and you knew Penelope’s matchmaking tendencies had rubbed off on him.

“Derek Morgan…” You hoped he would take your tone as a warning.

“I don’t want to kiss Y/N for real! We’re just friends. And I know there has to be some loophole to this! It’s a simple prank from the Weasley joke shop. There has to be another way,” Spencer practically shouted, bursting into a long ramble about how he refused to be outsmarted by a couple of leaves and berries.

But you were still caught up on the whole ‘I don’t want to kiss Y/N’ part…

You felt a combination of hurt and resignation swirl inside of you. 

You knew this was just a platonic friendship. You knew he only cared for you as a friend. But he had never said it in a manner that completely denounced any possibility of mutual feelings.

You glanced at an incredulous-looking Morgan. Perhaps he thought his teasing would end in a completely different way. One that ended with bringing two of his closest friends together.

He was wrong.

You had to get out of there. Fast.

You grabbed the front of Spencer’s teaching robes and pulled him down to your height, sealing your lips against his.

It lasted all but a second before Reid ripped himself away from you, a shocked expression on his face.

Your cheeks burned and you kept your gaze trained at the wrinkled spots on Spencer’s robes, unable to make eye contact with the man you just kissed.

“I- I, uh, I need to go.”

Spencer was gone before you could even look up, the echoes of his footsteps fading away quickly.

You bit your lip, feeling your eyes water with tears of embarrassment. You brushed them away roughly, smiling hollowly at the man still standing there with you. He reached out, concern etched on his face.

“Sweetheart…” he muttered, about to take a step forward.

“Stop! Just… just don’t get any closer. You might get trapped here with me.” You laughed humorlessly. “You wouldn’t want to have to kiss me, right?”

You turned away from your concerned friend, walking towards Penelope’s private quarters, hoping that an afternoon with your girls would erase the bitterness swelling up in your chest.

You prayed to Merlin you hadn’t just lost one of the most important people in your life.


Hope you enjoyed this little piece! I know it wasn’t a very happy ending so I was thinking of doing a part two… Let me know what you think! I’d really appreciate any comments, questions, or requests ♥

Other Harry Potter books I'd read

• Marauder Era
• Next Generation
• Fred and George’s years at Hogwarts
• Tom Riddle’s years at Hogwarts
• Draco’s POV
• The Silver Trio’s adventures
• The year after the Battle of Hogwarts
• Dobby’s love story with his sock
• Percy and his cauldron bottoms
• ANYTHING

Percy Weasley Revelation

I’ve realised that Percy Weasley probably has Aspergers Syndrome.

Let’s see:

- He focuses on and gets very interested in specific topics that seem mundane to most (e.g. cauldron bottoms)

- He seemingly over-reacts to the point of meltdowns in response to what others perceive as trivial (e.g. when Fred and George steal his Head Boy badge)

- He is often seen by the canon narrative as having an exaggerated sense of self-importance, but it comes across more as a lack of awareness of others and a difficulty in seeing things from their point of view

- He often struggles with typical humour and doesn’t really see the point of many of Fred and George’s ‘jokes’

- On many occasions, he demonstrates that he isn’t a big fan of loud noises as they are off-putting to the point of completely consuming his attention

- He speaks and behaves in a very formal manner

- He doesn’t appear very comfortable with physical contact (the only time we see him hug somebody is during his very emotional return to the family during the Battle of Hogwarts, and even then he seems quite awkward about it)

- He evidently has difficulty with social relationships in general (he’s never actually shown to have any friends, which makes me really wish we could have met Penelope Clearwater)

- Emotional turmoil is also clearly very difficult for him, as he doesn’t really seem to know how to react when, for example, Penelope is petrified, or when he reunites with the family

- Part of the reason he preferred to align himself with the Ministry was probably because of a preference for a securely structured lifestyle, rather than that of a member of a rebellious action group, and because he had a rather fixed worldview that he found difficult to change (another major reason, of course, would be that most of his family actually treated him pretty badly, even Arthur on some occasions)

And of course, all of this just makes me love Molly Weasley even more, because she still loved him completely regardless of these things and treated him in an ideal way. If only his siblings were a little more like her…

The Weasley twins are the best.

Seriously, I just love that JK Rowling depicted a set of characters who are ambitious and intelligent but who don’t do well in school.

You’ve got Percy who becomes a prefect, Head Boy, and gets twelve O.W.L.s but he ends up being loyal to his job and blinding himself to the truth as well as shutting out those he loves. We see no evidence of brilliant spellwork from Percy, just boring cauldron bottom reports and lots of passive aggression.

And then there’s Fred and George who, from the first book, show an aptitude for fun and mischief but clearly prove that they have above average intelligence but put it to work doing what they love. They leave school early to pursue their dream and their brilliance pays off big time. They wind up making a real difference in the terror-stricken world of book 6 because they bring smiles to people’s faces when everything looks grim.

The Weasley twins are proof that grades don’t make intelligence. It’s a message you don’t see much in books and their inclusion in Harry Potter, even if it’s just on the side, is really important. It goes to show that you can be successful, smart, and popular without doing well in school.