harry potter drabble

Originally posted by crystalvisionn


“Stop following me!” 

George froze in his tracks, surprised that Y/N knew he was following her. “I’m-sorry. I just wanted to know what you were doing.”

He could see her face soften in the faint light from the moon. 

“Well..if you must follow me, you might as well be of some help.”

“Help? With what?” 

Y/N smirked and turned to continue walking on down the lawn. George stood there, thinking momentarily, before hurrying to catch up with her. 

//A @dhrfaves Valentine’s Day drabble for @bookbass! I hope you like it! (It’s actually really hard to find Dramione fluff nowadays, so please enjoy!!!)

Hermione Granger sat on a elongated flight of stairs, her petite legs dangling off of the edge of the step beneath her. Looking at the golden watch on her slender wrist, her rosy lips let out a humble sigh.

“Where is he?” The brilliant witch whispered with an exasperated moan, becoming more impatient with every tick of the metal hand. She couldn’t linger on these marble steps much longer, her back was becoming stiff with every longing second that she had to wait for this bloke.

Draco called on her earlier that morning, and told her to meet him on the stairs near the entrance to the school. He didn’t mention what they were doing their first Valentine’s Day together, but Granger was the type of girl to love surprises. But this constant yearning for him to appear made Hermione restless.

As soon as the frazzled brunette was about to return to her Gryffindor dorm, the platinum blonde appeared right before her eyes.

“Sorry for being overdue, Granger. I had some business to take care of.” Draco Malfoy looked handsome as usual, but there was a small glimmer of excitement and hope in his crystal eyes.

“Some Valentine’s Day this turned out to be….” Hermione huffed out with a rebellious pout.

The look on his girlfriend’s face only made a thunderous chuckle leave Malfoy’s already smirking lips. “Can you smile for once and trust me that this will be the greatest Valentine’s Day that your uptight little ‘arse ever had?”

Hermione opened her mouth to retaliate, but seeing the joy in his eyes forced her mouth to immediately close. Reaching out, she intertwined her fingers with his and he began to lead her out the main entrance of the school.

After walking across the grounds for quite a while, the bushy haired Gryffindor became more curious, “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m about to change your life, Ms. Granger,” Draco almost instantly responded, squeezing her smaller hand in his gently.

The astute brain of the witch grew into scattered shambles trying to figure out what the surprise was. When they reached their destination, Hermione straightaway regretted trusting the Slytherin. “No way in hell, Draco!”

What was in front of her hazel eyes was an open space of grass and a single Firebolt lying vertically on the ground. Hermione knew exactly what Draco wanted her to assimilate.

“Hermione…..” The Malfoy heir said in a gentle tone. “Trust me…..”

“No! I’m not letting you teach me how to fly on a bloody broom! You know this terrifies me!”

“You know what will be more terrifying? Introducing yourself to my parents as my girlfriend! So get on the damned broom!” A small chortle managed itself out of Draco’s lips yet again with a roll of his eyes.

Hermione’s looked at her boyfriend with wide, puppy-like eyes. In reality, Draco was the only person who she couldn’t argue with. He was right. So with a sad little walk towards the broom, she positioned herself on the wooden stick of death with help from her problematic partner.

“I hate you, Malfoy…..” Granger whined, looking desperately into the eyes of the current bane of her existence.

“I love you too, Hermione.” Draco responded in a sarcastic tone, but the look on his expression said otherwise. Then his face warmed into a bright pink shade.

Hermione’s mahogany eyes widened in shock. That was the first time he had ever said that to her. And she felt embarrassed that he responded that poignantly to something so cruel.

“Bloody hell.” Hermione said, placing a hand on his jaw, pulling him up and smashing her lips against his. He tasted like green apples and honey, his smell and flavor intoxicatingly sweet. Draco at the same time was glad that this was their first kiss. On Valentine’s Day, simple yet delightful.

Pulling away, Malfoy used his wand to make the magical broomstick slowly levitate above the ground only by a few inches. All of Hermione’s fear was gone, and just by a simple kiss…..she already felt like she was soaring.


This is the other drabble that @pyxyltheamoeba was amazing enough to help me with. Lord knows I need the help and I’m so grateful for it!

Some mornings, when the light hits Lily’s red hair in just the right way, James Potter lies beside his sleeping wife and wonders if he really survived the war or if by some miracle he had earned a place in heaven. When the full weight of his five-year-old Harry - who is currently nothing but elbows and knees - knocks the wind out of him, he knows he isn’t in heaven. He’s home, and that’s so much better.

Some mornings, when she wakes to giggles and her husband out of breath, Lily Potter turns to her boys and wonders if she really survived the war or if heaven is better than clouds and harps. When Sirius Black enters their bedroom yelling about breakfast, she knows she isn’t in heaven. She’s home, and that’s so much better.

Some mornings, when he wanders into the Potter house - in search of breakfast he claims, though everyone knows he is the one who makes the best pancakes - Sirius Black looks at the pictures on the wall full of moments without war, and wonders if he really survived the war or if God just has a soft spot for handsome men in leather jackets. Stumbling into Lily and James’ bedroom with the goddamn cat trying to climb his leg, he knows he isn’t in heaven. He’s home, and that’s so much better.

Some mornings, when he’s given up on persuading Sirius not to run around yelling at this hour, Remus Lupin pads into the nursery, holds his sleeping goddaughter of only a few months, and wonders if he really survived the war or if heaven is open to werewolves. Later, when his favorite sweater is covered in spit up, he knows he isn’t in heaven. He’s home, and that’s so much better.

Some mornings, when he flops into the kitchen as breakfast is served, Peter Pettigrew looks at his family and wonders if he really survived the war or if God doesn’t care that he’s a little shorter and pudgier than the rest. When a pancake is thrown in his face after he asks when he gets his own godchild - you try being pregnant Lilly tells him, another pancake in hand - he knows he isn’t in heaven. He’s home, and that’s so much better.

Some nights, when the kids are in bed, five children of war look around at each other and wonder if they really survived the war or if heaven was allowing them to live a life they never could. When Harry runs downstairs because he can’t sleep and wakes the baby with his yelling, they know they aren’t in heaven. They’re home, and that’s so much better.


In which Lily swears like a sailor and Remus convinces her to smell the damned potion.
(Also, Lily’s inner monolgue is in italics, and written in first person. Just to save any confusion. This wasn’t a prompt, but I am still accepting promts here!)

“Well. Since we’re finished early, thanks for that time saving tip, by the way, you gonna smell it or not?” Remus asked with a boyish grin, as he and Lily sat at the back of the class, watching various other pairs of students make the same mistakes they had been careful to avoid. 
“This isn’t going to be one of those bullshit moments where I smell something that reminds me of James and I realise I’ve actually been in love with him this entire time."The seventh year redhead warned him. "I keep telling you, James and I are friends Remus. And even then, we only became friends under duress because of head duties.”
“Did you hear me mention James? No. Because I didn’t. Just smell the damned potion, I’m curious. For me it smells like chocolate, mostly. Among a few other things.” Remus replied with a shrug. Secretly of course, he had been hoping for one of those ‘bullshit moments’ where she smelled James. He had a galleon riding on them being together by Easter. Not that he’d admit to that, of course. 
“Fine.” Lily said, a little reluctantly as she leaned over and sniffed the potion. 

“I can smell the air, the way it smells just before its about to rain.”
I’ve always loved thunderstorms and being out in the rain. I love the way the wet grass feels between my toes, and the way it feels like there’s nobody else in the world in that moment, because everyone else sits inside, away from the rain. The way the smell fills everyone with a sense of anticipation, waiting for the rain. The scent is sharp in your nose and dry in contrast to the rain that you know is about to fall. The scent which draws you towards it, wishing you would stay and dance under the forthcoming rain. I’ve always loved the rain, even before James took to staying outside in the rain with me, making sure I don’t catch a cold by practically forcing his jacket on me. 
“I smell… burning. Not smoke, but the type of smell you get from a dwindling fire." 
That was the smell which constantly filled the Heads common room late into the evening. It’s a scent that coaxes you towards its arms, lulling you towards sleep. The one that feels heavy in your nostrils, matching the rest of your body when its heavy with sleep. Even after you close your eyes, the smell keeps your attention on the colour of those last few embers on the hot coals, worn white and grey by fire. I love that smell, it’s comforting and relaxing because the dwindling fire means its almost time to sleep. It’s a part of the atmosphere. A smell I often wake up to when I fall asleep on the sofa in the common room, my patchwork quilt from my room thrown  across me, presumably by James…
"And pine needles with cinnamon.”
The smell of Christmas, my favourite time of year. The scent that pulled each and every person into the feeling of home, the scent that felt like someone was hugging you from the inside, the scent that makes you see everything with a warm red tint and fills you with childish anticipation and excitement. The scent that feels warm. I suppose I smelt it with Amortentia because Christmas just makes people feel loved. It reminds me of a time of year when my sister and I actually get on, when it feels like we’re a normal family, makes me feel wanted.
“Theres one more… but I can’t pin what it is." 
I don’t know what this scent is. But its soft, like silk and the colour of woven gold. It’s as viscous as honey and lighter than air. It’s not heavy like the smell of a dwindling fire, or sharp like the smell of the air before rain. It’s not even warm like the smell of Christmas. It’s comforting and soothing, bringing a sense of relief washing over me like water, but the sensation is more elongated, as if the water was as thick as honey, but smoother, and less sticky. It smells safer than home and brighter than the moon. It smells like…
"Merlins saggy ballsack, is that, broom polish!?” Lily exclaimed.
“You don’t have a broom, do you Lily?” Remus asked innocently with a small grin. 
“This. Is bullshit.” Lily declared, crossing her arms grumpily. 

anonymous asked:

#22 with Draco Malfoy?

#22 – ‘Could you - could you teach me?’

Originally posted by thetimelordsofbaskerville

The cards flickered together in your hands, the sound was a satisfying one to you and brought a small smile to your face. There was something intriguing to you about the old Muggle magic tricks your father had taught you now that you’d been introduced to the Wizarding wold. It always amazed you that the Purebloods had so little understanding of the world that your mother had wanted you to be a part of. So, when the little cluster of first year Purebloods scurried away from you – talking excitedly about the trick you’d just shown them – a small smile slipped quickly onto your face.

‘What are you doing?’ came a drawling voice that made you roll your eyes.

‘That would happen to be none of your concern, Malfoy,’ you said coolly, but you could feel the smirk slipping onto your face.

‘Since when did you start going by my surname?’ he asked, moving to sit beside you.

You shrugged, looking towards him. ‘It felt like the done thing to do.’

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. ‘Anyway,’ he said, his eyes flicking towards the cards as you stilled them in your hands, ‘what were you doing?’

‘Magic tricks,’ you said simply, fanning the cards out for him. ‘Pick one.’

He raised an eyebrow at you.

‘Just do it,’ you said, waving them slightly impatiently at him. He took one lightly. ‘Remember it and then put it back.’

He scanned the card for a few moments before carefully placing it back in the deck.

‘Right,’ you said, sorting the cards out. ‘Yours is gonna be the one that’s the wrong way around.’ You fanned them out, careful to make sure that he could see the right cards.

You heard him give a small gasp as he noticed his card, facing upwards in the deck.

‘But how?’ he asked, taking the card gently. ‘I didn’t hear you use a spell. You didn’t have your wand.’ He looked up at you slowly. ‘You haven’t learnt how to do all that kind of really impressive magic yet, have you?’

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took the card and placed it back in the deck. ‘No, it’s just a Muggle trick.’

You saw him trying to hide a grimace at the idea. But there was a flicker of something like amazement behind his eyes as well. You could tell that there was currently an debate running around his head.

And then, as you were shuffling the cards and expecting him to change the subject, he asked. ‘Could you – could you teach me?’

The blush rushing up his cheeks made you double take. You were certain that you must of misheard him. Surely he didn’t want to learn something Muggle related. But there was an earnestness behind his expression which unbalanced you.

‘Su – sure,’ you told him, a small smile slipping onto you face as you tried to teach him the trick. Maybe things were slowly changing. But it was certainly going to take a lot of work.

listen what if draco and harry were in a secret relationship at hogwarts and draco had harry pinned against a wall in some deserted corridor like they would be making out and all and when they broke apart for air draco would be smiling down at harry

but then ron and hermione come round the corner and harry and draco would be like fuck fuck fuCK because no one was supposed to know about them yet

and ron goes “what the fuck are you doing malfoy?! let go of harry now!” and hermione pulls harry away from draco to check for injuries and ron starts yelling about how malfoy was probably trying to kill harry and draco and harry are like thank merlin they thought we were fighting holy shit

after that harry goes with ron and hermione while draco goes in the opposite direction but before they leave they kinda turn and smile a little because they’re so in love and my heart hurts

Another World

This is my first drabble, or fic of any kind, so I’m very nervous! This was originally supposed to be for @jilytober but tumblr’s fabulous ask box technology means it took over a month to get this in the hands of @pyxyltheamoeba, who as been absolutely lovely in helping me out!

In another world, Lily Potter runs into unexpected resistance on a reconnaissance mission for the Order.

In another world, Frank Longbottom is called into work to deal with an emergency.

In another world, neither the Potters nor the Longbottoms have baby news by Christmas.

In another world, no babies are born as the seventh month dies.

In another world, Harry Potter is still born a day after Neville Longbottom, but their October birthdays been the pair will be classmates with Ginny and Luna instead.

In another world, Sybil Trelawney prophesies Lord Voldemort’s demise in the form of a red-haired woman born as the first month dies.

In another world, Severus Snape realizes who the prophecy concerns and in another world Snape withholds information from his master without promises that will forever indebt him to Albus Dumbledore.

In another world, Dumbledore take Alastor Moody with him to find the ring. They return with their remaining extremities intact and the world is one horcrux fewer.

In another world, neither of Sirius’ parents live to see the fall of Voldemort and Grimmuald Place becomes Order Headquarters because in this world, Regulus is still dead.

But in this world, the locket is discovered before anyone else must die, and it is Sirius who destroys what destroyed his little brother, who finished what Reg started.

In another world, it is James Potter who realizes where the diadem must be as he listens to Sirius’ explanation of recent events.

In this world, it is James Potter who walks the halls of his childhood to reach the place of lost things. And it seems so long ago that he once made these journeys under a cloak with three other boys that didn’t really fit. But they are really just children who are fighting too soon.

In another world, three days of searching finally seals the fate of another piece of Voldemort’s fading soul.

In another world, it takes months for the Order to pull off a successful infiltration of Gringotts. It is Peter Pettigrew, who ultimately suggests the plan that rids the world of another horcrux. Peter Pettigrew, who, without information that Voldemort so desperately wanted, stayed true to the end. Peter Pettigrew, who lost his life in the pursuit of a better world. It is Remus Lupin, with tears in his eyes and anger in his heart, who destroys a golden cup and a ratty old diary to avenge his brother marauder.

In another world, as the dust settles on Voldemort’s last, desperate attempt to rid the world of those who oppose him, it is Lily Potter who stands up. This woman of twenty-two, with no time to think and the desperation of a mother bear defending her cubs, sends a jet of green light towards the monster who has cornered her husband and his brothers. And with a thud of finality, Tom Riddle hits the ground.

Dead. Truly dead. It’s over.

It is October 31, 1981. Harry, staying with the Weasleys, plays with the stuffed rat he received for his birthday. A world away, Lily Potter stares at the carnage and begins to cry. James runs to his wife and holds her tight. “It’s over,” he mumbles into her hair. “It’s over.”

In another world, Lily Potter sometimes wakes up screaming. On those nights, James puts her to sleep with calming words and Harry sleepily wanders into his parents’ room to cuddle with Mum. On those mornings, they all wake up clinging to each other and a ragged toy rat.

It’s over.


My boy. I am writing to you from Brighton. I wish I could properly comprehend the events of the evening, enough to explain to you why I am indeed in Brighton, but it’s 3am and I am by the docks, watching the ships roll in and all I can remember is that we were celebrating you; Sirius, Remus, Pete and I. You were brought into the world no more than 16 hours ago, and they have been the happiest 16 hours of my life, because the moment I saw you, I knew that if there was ever anyone I would love in the world as much as I love your mother, it was you. You will have to excuse my handwriting, son; it is entirely possible that during our celebration, I may have had a fair go at a very expensive bottle of firewhiskey. Don’t tell your mother I told you that.

Right now, you and the love of my life are at St Mungo’s in London. And I am here, in Brighton – too drunk to apparate, but not too drunk to write to you. You will have to forgive me for writing this on a pub napkin, but it was my only option and I have a lot of things I want to tell you. I want to be with both of you, but if I was to arrive in this state, your mother would send me home to sleep it off, accompanied with a disapproving frown – don’t worry, you’ll be all too acquainted with that frown in a few years.

I’m not sure if this letter is really for you, or if its for me – maybe it’s a reminder of all the things I have to teach you, of all the things a good father needs to pass on to his son. But here I am, watching the ships roll in, thinking that I wouldn’t have the faintest clue what a good father would do. I’m in Brighton, and you’re in London. I’m already off to a terrible start.

You’re a scary little beast, mate. With your big green eyes and mop of dark hair, you’ve already stolen mine and everyone else’s hearts, and made me terrified to lose you; until I realised that I’m a father now, I’m not allowed to frightened – I mustn’t be scared, because one day you’ll come to me, fearful and I will have to tell you ‘Don’t be frightened, Harry. I’m here. As long as I’m here, you have no reason to fear.’ But how can I say that, if I myself get scared at the mere thought of your little dark haired head? See what I mean? I’m already an awful father.

I’m sitting on the bloody beach in Brighton - and there is sand in my trousers but I really don’t care, because my son was born yesterday, nothing could bother me now – I’ve never seen the ocean so dark, and it’s eerie how quiet it is. Maybe because it’s Brighton, and no one in their right mind would be out in Brighton at 3am on a Friday morning. Do people even go out in Brighton?

I’ve always tried to be a good bloke, Harry. I’ve always tried to do the best by everyone; though your mother would probably disagree with that. My father expected a lot from me, it was a lot of pressure, but I guess I kind of respected him for it. I wish he could have met you, I wish he’d had the chance. Maybe he would have seen that I finally got something right in making you, huh mate?

I’d move the earth if I could, Harry – I’d move it for you if you wanted me to. I’d move the earth to have you near me now. All I want is to fall asleep with you in my arms, but I suppose that will have to wait until tomorrow (if your mother doesn’t kill me before then, that is).

I’m still sitting on this damn beach, watching the ocean move, wishing I could show you everything. Wishing I could show you the room I grew up in, my dorm at school, the house that I used to call home, before your mother came along. Once I had her, I didn’t need a home. She was my home.

That was lame. You’ll learn that soon, your old man is a sap when it comes to your mother. But who could blame me? She’d spent ten hours giving birth to you and she still looked like a bloody veela, even after she threw a vase full of flowers at me for trying to take a photo of her.

There’s a war on, Harry. You’ll know all about it one day, we’ll explain everything to you when you’re old enough, we’ll hide nothing from you about this, because we’re about as deep in the situation as we could be. We’re putting you in danger, and I hope you don’t hate us for that. I couldn’t walk away from this though, Harry. This war is about your mother’s safety, any better man probably would have taken her and run, kept her and their family safe. I don’t know why I didn’t run, maybe I was angry, maybe I was too filled with pride to run – regardless, I made a reckless decision, and your mother joined me. Here we are. In the thick of a war, with you on our laps, and danger all around is. We’ll get through it though, mark my words, son. Only, I just keep hoping you will be the man, I couldn’t be.

I am longing to talk to you, face to face; only right now, it’s late, I’m drunk, and I’ve got nothing more to say. I know you won’t be able to read this for years, and maybe not even comprehend it for a few more years after that, but I felt the need to write it anyway. 

Sleep soundly, Harry James Potter. I’ll see you in the morning.

- James

A/U Where the Marauders (Including Lily Never Died) - First Words

“Say it with me. Da-da.” James moved his hands like a conductor would to his concert band.

Harry giggled up at his silly father and spit out some sounds and gurgles.

“Come on, Harry. You’ve got to say it. You’re going to be as smart as your mum!” James insisted but sighed hopelessly, sitting back in his chair. Harry grinned his adorable smile and banged his fists on the high chair’s table.

“James, he’s only 6 months old.” Lily shook her head, laughing, as she walked into the kitchen.

“Exactly! He should be saying something other than blublublubah.” James frowned, looking back at the book he had lying in his lap. “It says here they generally start talking at 18 weeks! That’s 4 months, Lily!”

“James, are you reading that silly Muggle book again?” The red head exclaimed, walking over and snatching the book from his fingers. Her eyes examined the pages and giggled a little. “You can’t judge our baby based on how many words they say at the age of 6 months!” She rolled her eyes, shutting the book loudly and putting it on the kitchen table. “Maybe he’s just a quiet baby, unlike his father.”

“But what if he’s not as smart as the others?” James exclaimed, looking at her with wide worried eyes.

“Then we’ll still love him all the same and he’ll find something else he’s good at.” Lily looked back at him and handed him a bottle of milk.

James sighed, nuzzling the nub of the bottle against Harry’s lips, watching the baby take it immediately. “Maybe he’ll be good at Quidditch.” James said suddenly, grinning up at Lily.

Lily laughed, glancing back at him as she made them some sandwiches. “Maybe he will! With you and Marlene constantly talking about it, I bet he’ll love it the minute he can actually understand what you’re saying.”

“Alright then. It’s settled. You don’t have to be a brainiac, Harry.” James grinned at his son who was still drinking his milk. “You’ll be a Quidditch star like your old man!”

Harry giggled and sputtered out some milk, some dribbling down his chin. Lily smiled and walked over, wiping the baby’s face, kissing his cheek. “You’ll be just as amazing and perfect as your dada.” She told Harry who just smiled at her and grabbed at her hair.

“Of course he will! He’s a Potter!” James exclaimed loudly, jumping off of his chair and puffing out his chest.

Potther!” A squeal came from the high chair and James and Lily both whirled their heads around to look at the baby who was hitting his hands on the table happily. “Potther Potther Potther!” The baby sang, grinning widely up at his parents.

“Did he just-” Lily stammered.

“I think he did-” James stared at his son then at his wife, then back at his son again.

“He just-”

“I know-”

“What’s going on in here?” yelled a very rude and loud Sirius Black, who had apparently just woken up from the basement.


“Harry what?” Sirius yawned, staring at the little family in front of him.

Harry, who responded to his name, smiled up at his Uncle/Godfather, clapping his little hands together. “Potther!!!” He shrieked, liking the reaction he got out of his parents.

Sirius had apparently been trying to get his breakfast because the next sound that could’ve been heard (but was ignored) was the sound of a plate shattering on the floor.

“Well, glad to know he knows his family name!” Lily laughed after a few quiet moments, picking up her son and planting an adoring kiss on his cheek. “Your first word, Harry! I’m so proud of y- Sirius, you broke another plate?!” Lily suddenly screeched, staring at the mess on the floor. “What if Harry was to hurt himself on that hm? What if someone got a piece of that in their foot?” She lectured, glaring at her husband’s best friend.

James, who was laughing loudly at his friend’s look of utter shock, waved his wand and fixed the plate brand new. He grinned over at his son who was giggling at Sirius being yelled at.


“You’re a Potter, Harry.” James whispered to Harry that night as he put him in his crib. “Dada loves you. Mama loves you. Sirius loves you. Marlene loves you..” James’ voice trailed off as he recited his good night to his 3 month old son.

“Potther.” Harry yawned a little, curling up his hands into little fists. And there, he slept, Harry Potter. The Potter Boy.

anonymous asked:

Hi for the prompts, 25 ("i tought you were dead how could you do that to me?") can you do it with Fred Weasley, after the Hogwarts battle ?

#25 - ‘I thought you were dead! How could you do that to me?’

Originally posted by humanbludgers

Sitting in the Great Hall after the Battle of Hogwarts was one of those odd moments when you were finally able to think about everything that had happened. When you could allow the emotions of others to wash over you in an attempt to push aside the feelings that you yourself didn’t want to believe.

After everything that you’d seen, the devastation and heart-break, you didn’t want to think that more of it was on the way. That there were still people to find. Somewhere in the castle there were still more bodies. The clear-up had been going on for hours, and slowly the Hall had begun to get more and more crowded. People reuniting with friends or loved ones; others mourning the losses while the odd person cheered at the fact that Voldemort was gone.

But you couldn’t relax. All you could think about was Fred. He hadn’t come back yet. His family were beginning to worry, and Percy was sure that something bad had happened. He refused to talk about it though. Merely stood, looking blankly out of the window while George tried to find out what had happened to his twin.

‘Why does everyone look so glum?’ a familiar voice asked close to your ear, making you jump.

Your emotions went into overdrive. You were thrilled to see Fred; relived to see that he was safe; worried still because you had been certain that something had gone wrong; you were also annoyed with him.

You hit him on the chest a few times, not too hard but enough for him to know the confusion that your mind was currently awash with. You could feel the tears prickling your eyes. ‘I thought you were dead!’ you shouted at him, fully aware that now his entire family were looking at you. ‘How could you do that to me? To your family? To everyone?’

‘Hey, easy,’ said Fred soothingly, pulling you into a hug. ‘It’s all right. I’m here. I’m not dead.’

You managed to splutter out a quick laugh through your tears. ‘Good,’ you told him firmly, just before feeling more people crash against you. You heard his family accusing him of a ‘poor joke’ or else telling him that he wasn’t allowed to do that ever again. But all you could concentrate on was the fact that he was alive, and with you still. You weren’t sure how you would have coped if he hadn’t come back, and you were glad that you hadn’t had to find out.

Requested by anon: “Where am I?” and “Don’t leave me. Please” with Remus Lupin.

Remus heard your soft whimpers. Short after did you open your eyes, that flickered for a while before you adjusted to the light. You started moving slowly under the sheets and Remus quikly got up from the chair he sat on and stood as close as he could. You looked up at him.

“Hey, how are you?”, he asked, his voice raspy of tiredness.

“Remus? Where am I?”, you asked confused, you coudn’t think straight because of the headache.

“You don’t remember?”, he asked. You slowly shoke your head. “You got bludger right in the head during the game last night”, Remus told you. You started to remember, it was your first Quidditch game and only after half an hour someone aimed one of the bludgers at you, and you passed out.

“Oh”, was the only thing you said. “I’m stilla a bit gone, I guess”, you told him, trying to smile.

“I just wanted to stay with you so I knew you would be alright, but I guess I will leave, madam Pomfrey will people talk to you or something…”, Remus said, giving glances toward madam Pomfrey’s office. Just when he turned around to go, you grabbed his hand.

“Remus, don’t leave me. Please. I… I like your company”, you said quitely. Remus looked back at you, lighly hugging your hand.

“Uh, yeah, ofcoruse I will”; he said a bit flustered over your words. He sat down on the chair again, still holding your cold hand.

anonymous asked:

[blackinnon prompt] can you do something in which Marlene puts all her pride and self-respect aside and asks Sirius to be her "fake" boyfriend so she can get away with a problem (idk what could it be)?

How do you like them apples? 
Blackinnon drabble in which Marlenes dignity crawls into the corner and dies.
(Requested from this post, and I am still accepting requests and prompts)

“What do you think I said Lily? I said no. Amos Diggory? I mean really? I’d never go out with him if you paid me.” Marlene sighed as the pair sat down at the Gryffindor table. “But he’s really really slow on the uptake for a Ravenclaw, he just thinks I’m playing ‘hard to get’.” the blond huffed.
“Oh come on, Amos isn’t /that/ bad. I mean, he is a little full of  himself. And theres that thing with the socks… and yeah, maybe his teeth are a little too crooked, and he never shuts up about how he’s never been shut out of the Ravenclaw dorms, because he can answer every question…” Lily trailed off. “Yeah, okay, I can see why you really don’t want to go out with him.” Lily nodded solemnly as the Marauders sat down next to them. 
James pecked Lily on the cheek, knowing she wasn’t that keen on PDA, so he kept it low. “Who doesn’t want what now?” he asked curiously as Sirius sat down opposite him and next to Marlene.
“You’re about to find out.” Lily muttered, nudging Marlene with her foot and looking up as Amos Diggory approached their group at the table.
“Marlene, look, I know you said no, but I mean, we’re both free next Hogsmeade weekend, and well, I really like you-” He went to continue but Marlene spoke across him. 
“Well actually Diggory, I’m going out with my boyfriend next Hogsmeade weekend. So how do you like them apples?” She snapped frustratedly.
Lily was surprised at such a bold faced lie, but giggled at the latter phrase, Marlene had adopted the phrase as her own as soon as Lily had used it once in passing, bringing it back from the muggle world.
“Oh really? And who would that be Marlene? I think I’d know if you had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t have asked you out.” he said, feeling a little smug that he’d seen through her lie.
“What so you mean if I’d have said that to start with you’d have pissed off?” she muttered darkly, rolling her eyes. “It’s  none of your business who my boyfriend is. All you need to know is he’s taller than you, more rogueish than you, handsomer than you, and he’s a /much/ better quidditch player.” she said, the lies just rolling off the tongue now, although she had only said those things to take him down a peg or two.  "So you had better step back or he will kick your arse. Got it?“
"Oh please, now it’s obvious you’re lying.” he snorted snobbishly.
“Oh Merlins saggy ballsack.” She sighed to herself. “No means no! Would you back off?” She huffed.
“See, I knew you were lying about having a boyfriend.” He retorted.
“No, I wasn’t. If you must know, Sirius and I have been dating for weeks now, and are as happy as a niffler in a goldmine.” She said brashly.
Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice, spitting it all over Peter by accident. He wiped his face with the back of his hand before turning to Marlene.
She glanced at him, almost pleadingly, not that Diggory noticed, he was still in shock. 
“I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone, my lover?” Sirius cooed with a smirk, playing along but milking the situation for all it was worth to wind Marlene up. 
“Yeah well, perhaps if you’d have stuck up for me.” she said, cocking her head towards Diggory. “I wouldn’t have had to tell him.”
“Well, as much a I support you in fighting your own battles, my lover, I am surpressing the urge to kick his head in.” He nodded casually, glancing at the open-mouthed Amos.
“Right, would you guys excuse us?” She asked, pulling Sirius up by the arm. “I need to speak to Sirius, privately." 
"No problem, my lover.” He grinned, putting his arm around her waist as they walked out of the hall, looking over his shoulder to glare at Diggory as he pulled Marlene closer, knowing that would annoy her, but it was something she couldnt’ complain about because he was also glaring at Diggory. 

“You mean, she.. they actually?” Amos asked, pointing at the pair as they left.
“Trust me, we were just as surprised as you are when we found out.” Lily said, stifling a laugh.
“Lily?” James asked as Amos walked away dejectedly. “What apples was Marlene talking about?” He asked, looking surprised when Lily burst into laughter.

Outside the great hall, Marlene had lead Sirius down a few hallways before pushing his hand off of her waist.
“Look, I’m sorry for dropping you in that, he just wouldn’t leave me alone.” She muttered.
“Oh its fine, /my lover/.” Sirius smirked, leaning against the wall.
“Don’t call me that, I’ve already put away all my pride and self-respect. Don’t push it.” she huffed. “Look, would you just, play along, for me? Please?” she asked, they were mates, well, they always took the piss out of each other, but they never meant it. So she assumed they were mates.
“If we’re gonna do this, we’ve gotta do it properly.” He told her. “You know how my relationships work-”
“If you could even call them that.” She remarked snidely.
“Exactly, so on the bright side, you only have to pretend for a week or so. On the down side, you know exactly how my relationships work. Plus Diggory has snotty prefect friends everywhere, so for the next week, if you want this to work, you need to act like one of the girls I usually date.” He explained.
“Me? One of your blonde bimbos? No way.” She said quickly.
“Well, not exactly, but in essence, yes. We don’t have to do anything in the common room, except, you know, sit a little closer, don’t bite my head off when I play with your hair, that sort of thing, but we can get Lily and James to give us the patrol schedules and get caught in a few broom closets.” he suggested. “We can even get caught by Amos. Then after the hogsmeade trip, we can split up. If we do it before then, he’ll be lurking around hoping to be your rebound.” Sirius shrugged.
“Whats that sound? Oh yeah, its my dignity, dying in the corner.” she groaned.
“Take it or leave it, it only has to be until the hogsmeade weekend, then hopefully he’ll leave you alone.” Sirius shrugged. “And if you leave it now, I get credit for the breakup, if you take it until after the hogsmeade weekend, you get to dump me." 
"You know what? Fine. Fine! I’ll do it, just don’t take advantage of the situation.” She sighed.
“Well, I’ll use it to my advantage to wind you up in public when you can’t do anything about it. But I’m not a complete pig, I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.” He said, feeling a little hurt.
“No, sorry, I didn’t mean like that.” she sighed.
“Whatever, I’ll get the patrol schedule from Lily and James and meet you in the common room later.” He said, stalking off in the direction of the kitchens. 
“It’s a date!” Marlene called after him as she saw a random Ravenclaw passing in the hall, hoping it would get back to Amos.

Sirius and Marlene were caught no less than 5 times. Twice by Amos Diggory, and the other three by random Ravenclaw Prefects. All in the same broom closet. Funnily enough, the last two times, were long after the Hogsmeade weekend.

Unrequited Wolfstar

Ok ok lets do this, it’ll be trope-tastic, full of historical liberties and gay because these canine dorks are just too much for me:

  • So Remus, the gay werewolf we all know and love, realised he liked men somewhere around the latter half of 4th year
  • (Unsurprisingly this had an awful lot to do with Sirius and his apparent repulsion towards clothing)
  • Remus never really comes out to the Marauders, he just gets on with it and they don’t really question much when they see Remus pouring over ancient runes with this 6th year Hufflepuff or walking into Hogsmead with that older Ravenclaw.
  • He becomes rather friendly with Lily after they share a somewhat similar taste in men (ok let’s face it everyone in the damn school harboured some kind of crush on James Potter)
  • It’s somewhere around December of their 5th year that things begin to get Complicated™ for Sirius 
  • As whilst Remus is out enjoying his unspoken liberty, Sirius is moping, dramatically strewn across the back of a sofa in the common room, with James and Peter nodding at various points in his monologue.
  • During the 8th or so session of sofa-moping Sirius suddenly stops talking and refuses to elaborate for the rest of the night (Even James, brick among the observant, has realised Sirius’ moping has been rather Moony-themed of late)
  • And Sirius knows he’ll remember that moment for years to come. As his shoulders became lighter, his thoughts clicked into place, his throat closed up, his heart started beating out his shirt, his legs became weak and he felt dizziness settle on him he realised that not only did he like men and Moony but he likes Moony quite a lot and he knows if his parents get any word of this then he’s disowned. He decides this isn’t like Remus being quietly gay this is Sirius being rather gay for another Marauder and he doesn’t know how he would cope with that.
  • So he sits, outwardly silent, for the rest of the night  alternating between friendship-apocalypse and the fact that Moony has a truly amazing arse
  • I mean have you seen it it’s sculpted by the gods
  • Sirius eventually gets his shit together and tells James that he’s actually rather into guys as well as chicks and James, although baffled slightly, is supportive in his own James Potter™ way.
  • Sirius thought he’d have the summer to get over it but he’s new to this whole unrequited love tripe and severely overestimated how attractive he found the image of Remus hunched over a dusty old textbook on transfiguration, with the light from the archaic library windows lighting up the faint ginger in his hair, his eyes bright, his mouth gentle and his skin with its soft glow which highlights his scars a little more and he’s fallen in love by now but he can’t seen to find a way out.
  • So up turns next year, without the foreshadowing pressure of summer exams and now with a whole new depth to their subjects yet if Sirius is perfectly honest he doesn’t give a Manticore’s arse about it all
  • And due to his *ahem* mooning over his best friend, he ends up falling behind rather quickly, sparking off a whole new kind of torture: late night study sessions with Remus, who for some reason is taking 6 subjects, working himself to death.
  • The guy doesn’t even spend a full 4 weeks in the same physical form and he thinks he can study 6 NEWTS what an adorable fool
  • And every time Sirius looks up from whatever essay he neglected over the weekend, Moony matches his gaze with a small half-smile making his amber eyes crinkle at the edges before refocusing on his ancient runes, hair flopping over his face
  • Sirius feels this horrible empty twinge in his chest, a dull thud of hot-running desperation that physically winds him and there’s this little line of pure pain engraved over his heart each time.
  • His daydreams have a constant face and his future becomes synonymous with Remus’ so he’s already terrified of life after Hogwarts where he can’t conceivably talk to him every day
  • And as the future he’s so scared of looms nearer and nearer in the form of job counselling with McGonagall, invited Ministry officials and a box of leaflets on how to write a personal statement placed firmly in the common room, the world outside the castle is darker and more dangerous and they’re already talking of rebellion and ideology when they can’t even heal their own scrapes and bruises
  • Sirius watches as Moony draws further and further into his studies, rarely talking about the future anymore, not attending the lectures given by potential employers
  • And it hurts him as much as he guesses Moony might be hurting and so he sits there in the common room trying to properly express how anyone who doesn’t hire him would be a fool to do so, and he’s so pretty to look at and captivating to watch and his habits are endearing beyond measure and his smile could light up a room if he’s just come out of his books long enough to give one and how his heart has skipped so many beats in his name and Sirius wants him to be happy and with all due respect Moony, you were never really the best at self-care now were you? And if you had any self-awareness at all, you’d realise that James and Peter and Lily and I have all got your back. We don’t care if you work at the Department of Mysteries or an irregular paper round, we all want to help you because you’re worth so much and you’ve got your beautiful head to firmly stuck in your pert arse to see how much I care about you.
  • Sirius just about manages to progress his late night muttering into a full on spoken conversation with his own brain
  • Until he looks up from the dying embers of the fire to see some rather long and hairy bare feet which just happen to be attached to some blue pyjamas which Sirius is only too familiar with after seeing them neatly folded on the bed next to his each day after 6 years
  • And he just stares because of all the possible ways he’s imagined of confessing his undying love, he never suspected it would be like this - he never expected to be so calm
  • And Moony, tired, fluffy-haired Moony, with his bright eyes and his soft smile, simply gives him a small little smirk and asks if Sirius really thinks his butt is cute
  • He said pert, actually.
  • And suddenly Moony is right in front of him and he’s talking and Sirius thinks he’s saying something about arses and reciprocation but he’s honestly more focused on his lips which have moved ever so close now and Sirius thinks he might just-
  • And then they’re kissing and all his tangled feelings of love pour out of him into that kiss that he’s waited 2 years for and he’s smiling and Moony is smiling and he doesn’t know why he waited so long anymore because right now he’d take on every evil he could find as long as Remus was next to him. He knows he’ll win if Moony is there, oh he would win every damn time.

Requested by anon:  “Don’t touch me!” with Sirius Black.

His hair was long and had lost it’s shine: just as his eyes. They where empty. His tall figure was thin and it looked like he would break with just one touch. You truly don’t have any words. The love of your love, yout best friend, your everything; the one you thought you had lost for all eternity stood now in front of you.

“Y/N”, Sirius whispered, walking closer to you and slowly took up his hand to your face.

“No, don’t touch me”, you blurted out. The pain in his eyes made you look away.

“Sirius, I just… This whole situation is just so… Overwhelming”; you said quietly.

“One day you’re in Azkaban for murder, and next day you are standing here, innocent”.


Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: gin ‘n’ tonic/Ginny x Tom

Rating: T

Number of words: 514 (I might do another part, though)

Inspired by: @colubrina who doesn’t know I exist, but her lovely work totally got me into this pairing. I’m kind of sorry to associate her brilliant work with my sub-par one, but I want to say a clumsy thank you, though. 


On the eve of her fifteenth birthday, expensive silk sheets spill from a cardboard box onto Ginny’s dorm-room bed and the sight, the simple picture something so unusual paints, has her stumbling backwards, pupils dilated, flight instincts overwhelming any rational thoughts.

On the eve of her fifteenth birthday, Ginny Weasley’s wrists get torn apart badly and then magically sewn together and when Harry asks about the scars, concern in his green eyes, she shrugs and says Venomous Tentacles like it’s nothing and she’s fine.

It’s not.

And she isn’t.

But he believes her readily enough.

The sheets end up ripped and cut and into the wicker basket in one of the many bathrooms for the elves to take them away, away to Merlin knows where, someplace their physical presence can’t come back from to hunt her. The idea that they exist, though, that idea makes her twist and turn and bite into her own skin until its surface breaks and blood drags down her fingers, pooling in her palms, staining the ever uncovered mattress she lies on.

Those wounds, like her mind, never get to heal.

Ginny doesn’t have any sort of beddings and, as far as her roommates are concerned, the reasons are unfathomable.

Maybe she’s just weird.

Maybe she’s just poor.

It’s not like she ever tells anybody that the floor of the Chamber felt like rough sheets under her cheek.

It’s not like she ever tells them Tom ruined her with his mind, either.

That their souls, frail, greedy, shriveled, were the same.

I heard Malfoy brings silk sheets from home, she remembers writing while laying on the ratty fabrics all her brothers had used. Back then, they were comfort. And You won’t even find silk in our home. Back then, she didn’t know how anything outside of wool of her sweaters and cotton of her dresses and the velvet of the drapes felt.

I never had expensive stuff either. And If I were there, Ginevra, I’d buy you all the silk sheets in the world.

He wasn’t there, of course, but one day, after one of her lapses, after heaving into a toilet feeling like she had lost her mind, after scrubbing what she hoped to the gods was red paint off her hands, after plucking fine little feathers out of her hair, she came back to find pearl grey satin shimmering on her bed.

She never asked.

He never told.

And when everything ended she burned the sheets, hers, Tom’s, Malfoy’s, and went on with her life like she had never trusted things that hadn’t shown her where their brain was being kept.

On the eve of her fifteenth birthday, Ginny Weasley obsesses, burned, stabbed diary clenched between her hands, feeling the link lingering, strengthening, tugging at that piece of her soul she’s careful never to tell about, never to think too much at.

On the eve of her first day at fifteen, she opens it. 

How do your silk sheets sleep? he asks her, perfect writing looped around the fang.

From where she sits on the barely patched together, barely-resembling-sheets sheets, Ginny contemplates.

They sleep good, she writes back.

Morning Has Broken

Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): George Weasley x reader
Warnings: Language
A/N: Posting this one way too early. @cocoobbesses @marvelximagines @ladywiseowl @ass-hlee @multi–fandom-imagines

You were sound asleep, snuggled up under a thick warm duvet, the world outside muffled by a blanket of snow. Everything was quiet, and peaceful.
At least until the bedroom door burst open, and all hell broke loose.
You and Ginny, whose room you’d been sharing for the past week, nearly fell out of your beds as three grinning redheads shook you awake.
“Piss off, guys,” grumbled Ginny, pulling the blankets over her head. Fred and Ron started hitting her with pillows, while George sat down beside you.
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N/N),” he grinned, kissing your cheek gently. You smiled, hugging him tightly.
“Merry Christmas, Georgie.”
He scooped you up in his arms, blankets and all, and started down the many stairs of the Burrow, where you’d been staying during the holidays.
“Merry Christmas, Mrs Weasley!” you called, George carrying you into the kitchen where his mother stood by the stove. She smiled at the sight before her, coming over to hug you both.
“Merry Christmas, dears. And how many times, (Y/N)? You call me Molly,” she scolded jokingly.
“Merry Christmas, Molly,” you corrected yourself.
The three of you turned at the sound of heavy fast footsteps on the stairs, and you were joined in the tiny kitchen by Ginny, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Fred and Percy, who’d actually left his room for once. Mr Weasley trailed behind them, still yawning.
Once everyone had wished everyone a merry Christmas, and Molly had handed out hot chocolates, you all made your way into the living room.
The Christmas tree towered above all of you, the lights reflecting off the many presents stacked beneath it.
Arthur went and knelt by the first stack of presents, taking one from the top of the pile.
“First present for…Ron!”
As everyone grabbed their presents, George turned to you with a grin and a small box in his hand.
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he said softly, handing you the box. You watched him curiously, opening the box carefully and smiling warmly when you saw the contents.
A beautiful silver locket rested on a tiny pale blue cushion, the chain thin and delicate. George watched you anxiously, studying your expression.
“Do you like it?” he asked shyly. “I wasn’t sure-”
You silenced him by pressing your lips to his. “I love it, George. Thank you.”
He grinned, sweeping your hair over one shoulder so he could fasten the necklace.
“Look inside,” he smiled, playing with the end of your hair. You raised your eyebrows curiously, carefully opening the locket. You grinned, seeing the photo of you and George inside. His arm was around your shoulders, just like it was now, but you both looked a lot younger. You must have only been about thirteen.
“I remember this,” you smiled. “The day you asked me out.”
He grinned, kissing your forehead gently. “I was terrified.”
“You tripped over your robes,” you recounted, smirking. He tickled your sides.
“Did you have to bring that up?” he laughed.
“Of course!”
He rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and bringing out a tiny sprig of mistletoe.
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he said, holding the mistletoe between the two of you. You smiled, cupping his cheek and leaning in.
“Merry Christmas, George,” you whispered just before your lips met.

anonymous asked:

The reader being fred and Georges triplet but she was sent to beauxbatons after first year to become more lady like and there's like almost no breaks/vacations there and travel expenses and they reunite when the triwizard tournament comes around.

Originally posted by hogwartsfansite

Beauxbatons was one of those places that seemed to be sure of everything. Apparently you being sent there was a good thing for you. It was to help you become more lady like because you were too similar to your brothers – though, what were people expecting when it came to being the triplet of Fred and George Weasley? But it did mean that you rarely got to see you family. The summer holidays were shorter and this time around it seemed as though Charlie and Bill were determined to tease the rest of you.

‘Aw, it’ll be good to have you back,’ Charlie said, nudging you slightly as you and the others began to start getting ready for a Quidditch match.

‘I am back,’ you said, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

‘Yeah, did you miss something?’ George asked, handing you a broom. You knew he was talking about the little prank that the three of you had played on him, the salt in his porridge which he appeared determined to get you back for.

‘Or are you just trying to forget? We could help with that,’ said Fred, smirking as Bill began to chuckle.

‘You just wait, little siblings,’ said Charlie, enchanting the balls ready for the game. ‘You’ll see.’

‘Well, that wasn’t cryptic at all. You gonna share, dearest older brother?’ you asked, batting your eyelids at him.

Charlie shook his head. ‘You’re not gonna get it out of me. I don’t care how much you try that polite society stuff you’ve been learning.’

You smirked at him, and you noticed that Fred and George were doing exactly the same. You knew that there was going to be a prank involved, and that Charlie was going to regret not sharing that information.
You didn’t find out what Charlie had been hiding until you’d been back at school for a while. You were thrilled that you were going back to Hogwarts for a while. You couldn’t wait to see your brothers, and the fact that you could cause more mayhem than ever before with them back by your sides. You knew that it would be difficult, trying to make sure that Madame Maxine didn’t get too annoyed with it all, but you couldn’t help it.

‘Boys!’ you said, running over and hugging your triplets when you saw them in the Great Hall. You saw a few people looking confused – those who recognised the Beauxbatons uniform but not you. Lee was chuckling happily though, whooping with laughter.

‘The Weasley Trio back together!’ he said, patting you lightly on the back.

‘Watch out Hogwarts,’ you said, pulling away and ignoring the dark look which Fleur was shooting towards you from the Ravenclaw table, ‘a little trouble coming your way.’

‘Well,’ said George, moving to sit on the table, ‘a little more than normal.’

‘Yeah, we don’t want you thinking that you can outdo us with your lady like attitude now,’ added Fred, ruffling your hair slightly.

You batted his hand away, a sly little smirk on your face. ‘Oh, you wish, little brother,’ you said, winking at him before moving to sit with them. This was going to be an interesting year, and very little about that was to do with the fact that the Triwizard Tournament was happening.

Writing Prompts 2.0

So I’m doing this again because my phone is broken and I’ve lost all the progress I’ve made on A Winchester (3). So send in a character and number and I’ll write a drabble. 

1. “Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me to hate you?”
2. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life.” 
3. “I’m not happy here.” 
4. “If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.” 
5. “I just want to cuddle and watch Friends.” 
6. “You’re hiding something from me.”
7. “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.” 
8. “I want my best friend back.”
9.  “You better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.”
10. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 
11. “A wedding?”
12. “I just want to be alone right now.” 
13. “Don’t you dare to ever do that again!”
14. “Where would someone hide in a town like this?” 
15. “If I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me!”
16. “I thought you were a dream come true.” 
17. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”
18. “I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen.”
19. “I made a mistake.” 
20. “H-How long have you been standing there?” 
21. “You can’t break my heart like this!”
22. “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.” 
23. “The skirt is supposed to be this short.” 
24. “I’ve moved on.” 
25. “This is why you don’t ever have any shirts to wear.” 
26. “Run, and don’t ever look back.” 
27. “The three seconds rule doesn’t apply to sticky foods.”
28. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.” 
29. “Please, don’t give up on me.” 
30. “When are you going to realize that I don’t care?”
31. “I may be an idiot but I’m your idiot.”
32. “When you love someone, you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Specially then!”
33. “Fuck…I feel I’ve been hit by a car.”
34. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”
35. “I know that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it”
36. “i;m tired of being your secret.”
37. “They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly it seems quite dangerous.”
38. “Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?”
39. “Let me tell you exactly where in hell you can go.”
40."Who gave you that black eye?!”
41. “After everything you did, you’re asking ME to apologize for snapping at you ONCE?”
42. “I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!”
43. “What the hell are you doing here?! I told you I never wanted to see you again!”
44. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”
45. “Are you drunk?”
46. "I’m sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes”
47. “You got her pregnant?! What were you thinking?”
48. “It’s OK baby, I’m here for you.” 
49. “You say the nastiest things when you’re angry, so yes, I’m walking away from you now.
50. “I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.”
51. “My parents asked about you.”
52.“Oh, gosh, you’ve insulted me! What ever shall I do? I’ll be mentally and emotionally scared for years!”
53. “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”
54. “Do you need me to get anything from the store?”
55. “They say I’m in here because I’m crazy, I think I’m crazy because I’m in here.”
56. “You’re hurting me, let me go.” 
57. “If you don’t want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.”
58. “I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.”
59. “Don’t say you love me.”
60. “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong.”

One line promts
  1. “I trusted you!”
  2. “Please, just don’t leave me”
  3. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
  4. “I almost lost you”
  5. “I’d wait forever, as long as I could be with you in the end”
  6. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”
  7. “Just, do one last thing. Kiss me”
  8. “Hey, I’m with you okay? Always”
  9. “We need to talk”
  10. “Are you jealous”
  11. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”
  12. “Promise me”
  13. “I thought you loved me”
  14. “You don’t have any right to say that”
  15. “I swear it was an accident.”
  16. “You’re the only one I trust to do this”
  17. “You think you’re the only one that’s suffering here?”
  18. “Just do it!”
  19. “It looks good on you”
  20. “I thought you were dead”
  21. “It’s not what it looks like…”
  22. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified”
  23. “Have you lost your damn mind!?”
  24. “Maybe you weren’t worth the effort”
  25. “Are you sure about that?”
  26. “Just say it, once more”
  27. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go  to such extremes..
  28. “No one has ever made me feel more special than you have”
  29. “Stop complaining, you know you love it”
  30. “Will you just accept that I am hopelessly in love with you, and there’s nothing you can do that will change that”
  31. “I’ll get you back for that”
  32. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this”
  33. “There’s something I need to tell you”
  34. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”
  35. “Who did this to you?”
  36. “Why is it always you?”
  37. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
  38. “I told you this would happen”
  39. “It’s not my fault!”
  40. “I didn’t do it!”
  41. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
  42. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”
  43. “Just shut up and kiss me”
  44. “That’s it, I can’t do this anymore”
  45. “I hate you so much”
  46. “Because I love you god damn it!”
  47. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”
  48. “We’re getting too old for this” 
  49. “You’re not who I thought you were”

Please send in the number of the line you want, a fandom and a character. I will write a drabble based on that line then! 

Insperation from @alpha-imagines xx


Draco Malfoy was acting strange.

Harry Potter knew this, but absolutely not because he was obsessing over the male like he used to. And yes, now that he was an adult and a Mediwizard, he could admit that he was a little obsessive when they were younger.

But no.

Harry Potter knew that Draco Malfoy was acting strange, because his hair was green.

Draco Malfoy’s hair.

Was green.

And this wasn’t even the beginning of all the odd things he had been doing lately.

It started when Harry found out that he now was the one in charge of getting the healing potions from the company that brewed them for St. Mungo’s. The representative for the company, of course because how could his life not throw him another curveball, was Draco Malfoy. The blonde had seemed shocked when he had first seen Harry, but then quickly composed himself and went into business as usual.

Then, Draco started showing up at St. Mungo’s claiming that he needed to periodically check and make sure all the potions that were being supplied were satisfactory. Harry didn’t really buy it, but who was he to complain, the man was fit.

Of course then one day Draco showed up with the tightest spandex pants that Harry had ever seen, and he swore that his eyes almost bugged out of his skull. He had spent the entire day standing strategically close the Draco in order to hide the indecency of his arse and package from the patients.

The next day he had come, he was wearing tight spandex pants once again, and this time he had added a dark line of kohl eyeliner around his eyes that made it almost impossible to see his eyes. Harry had spent the day, while hiding Draco’s lower half from patients again, staring at Draco’s eyes trying to see them through the kohl.

Then he had showed up with a collar.

A Merlin be damned dog collar.

At this point Harry was seriously concerned for the sanity of the man he had once considered his rival.

Harry had spent that day subtly trying to get closer to Draco, to see if his skin felt hot to indicate a temperature

Now his hair was green, in addition to all the “subtle” changes to his wardrobe. Harry had to find out what the hell was wrong with the man. Today.

After spending the day once again sticking very close to Draco in order to protect his arse from the view of others, Harry pulled the man into a nearby supply closet and just looked at him.

“What the hell, Malfoy?”

“What are you talking about, Potter?” Draco asked haughtily, sounding for all the world that he had no idea he was dressed as a green haired lunatic.

“Why do you look like…” Harry couldn’t even describe it, he just gestured at all of Draco.

Draco’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, and Harry had the sudden urge to hide his groin in fear of a curse. “You don’t like it?” It was more a demand than a question.

“No!” Harry almost yelped out his denial, “What in the name of Merlin’s bullocks would give you that idea?”

Looking like he didn’t quite believe, Draco’s glare intensified and he reached into the pocked of his spandex. Which had to be extended because those pants were way to tight to hide anything in, let alone the Witch Weekly magazine that he pulled out.

The magazine was already open to an article and Harry looked at the title of it as it was handed to him.

Shocking! The Chosen One reveals his secret fantasies and desires!

Harry could have laughed. Or cried. Or an odd mix of the two.

Months ago, he had been stalked by an up-and coming “journalist” for Witch Weekly that was trying to get him to confess what his sexual fantasies were and what he found attractive in a woman. Finally, just to get her out of the damn bushes at St. Mungo’s, he had spouted off the most ridiculous things he could think of that she wouldn’t be able to twist into claiming he had secret desires for one of his friends. Later, this very article had been published, making it sound like she had gotten a proper interview from him, that hadn’t lasted only five seconds. He and his friends had laughed about it and put it out of their minds.

But here was Draco, embodying everything he had “confessed” in that article.

“Draco…” Harry breathed out, and Draco stiffened, “This article was… Not real. I don’t like these things.”

Draco lifted his wand and Harry flinched, but then he pointed his wand at himself and dropped the glamor he was apparently wearing.

Harry couldn’t hold in his sigh of relief when the normal Draco was in front of him again. Blonde hair, silver eyes, and designer clothes, “You were wearing a glamor.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry, “Obviously. You didn’t actually think I wore that anywhere but here?”

Harry exhaled, the knowledge that Draco had done something so against his nature just to seem more attractive to him raced through his mind and the the temperature in the storage cupboard raised considerably. Harry had to get out of there, to process what had just happened.

He turned to leave, and heard behind him just as he reached the door, “Potter!” He turned to look at Draco, who was glaring determinedly anywhere but at Harry.

“What do you like?”

Harry frowned as he thought about that question, but then he looked at Draco, looking embarrassed, angry, and vulnerable all that the same time.

“Blonde hair, silver eyes, and designer clothes.” Harry answered, giving Draco just enough time to look up and see his smile before he left the supply cupboard and went back to work, eager to see what Draco would do with this new information.


Just a silly little Drabble inspired by this post by 4-your-otp