ten points for slytherin

anonymous asked:

"I'm not blind, I see the way you look at them." Jamilton

“When did you first know you loved him?” Thomas asked, interrupting the comfortable silence the two of them had fallen into.

“I- what, Thomas?” Alexander responded, tilting his head in confusion and setting down his mug of black coffee, the dark liquid nearly splashing out of the cup.

“When did you first know you loved John Laurens, your best friend?” Thomas repeated, staring Alexander coldly in the eyes.

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about- the very idea that I would love anyone other than you-”

“I’m not blind, I see the way you look at them. Like he put the stars in the sky, like he’s your reason for waking up in the morning, like you’ve never known love until the moment you set eyes on him. The way you used to look at me.”

“Thomas, I don’t love him-”

“Stop lying to me!” Thomas screamed, standing up and ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes. “Answer me, you coward! When. Did. You. Know?”

Alexander stared up at Thomas, eyes wide with fear and the pain that Thomas knew, because of course Thomas knew- his cleverness was the main reason Alexander had been drawn to him.

“I’ve been fucking him for three months.”

“You….you what? You actually…you acted on….on your feelings for him?” Thomas asked, a tear falling from his eyes and trailing down his cheek.

“That was…what you were asking, wasn’t i- oh.” Alexander realized, unable to move or say anything or do something other than to stare into the heartbroken eyes of Thomas Jefferson.

“It wasn’t. It was what I was afraid of, but not what I asked.”

I Hate That I Love You

Kang Daniel is your all-time enemy, your #1 rival. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to start dueling during class, but when Slughorn assigns the two of you to make Amortentia during detention, some interesting things develop.
-harry potter au
-enemies to lovers
-gryffindor daniel and slytherin reader
-for anon who requested enemies to lovers gryf!daniel and slytherin!reader


“Does anyone know the key characteristic of the Snuffling Potion?” Professor Slughorn asked the class. You traded glances with your best friend, smirking from your seat at the back of the class. All the Gryffindors were sitting at the front, their hands shooting up, while the Slytherins occupied the back seats. “Yes, Kang Daniel?”

“The Snuffling Potion is known for its peppery scent,” Daniel replied confidently. You shot your best friend a smug look.

“Not quite, Daniel,” Slughorn looked at the class, “anyone else?”

“Clear smoke, professor,” you drawled from the back of the classroom. In his seat, Daniel twisted to send you a glare. You just winked back at him, and his cheeks turned bright red, Daniel spinning back to face the professor.

“Very good, (y/n), though I’d like it if you raised your hand next time,” Professor Slughorn beamed, turning to the chalkboard behind him as he flicked his wand. A piece of chalk lifted, lazily scrawling the instructions for the Snuffling Potion on the board. “We’ll begin brewing this today, it’s due on Friday. I expect one clean vial from each group, and please don’t turn it in late.”

“I can go get the ingredients,” you told your best friend, who nodded, pulling her own textbook out onto the desk and flipping to the correct page.

“First we need cayenne pepper, distilled water, lacewing flies and baneberry,” your friend informed you, and you nodded, heading back to the storage room where all the ingredients were.

As you reached for the baneberry, you heard someone else enter the room.

“Where do you get off on being such a know-it-all?” Kang Daniel asked, sneering at you. You rolled your eyes.

“At least I know something,” you retorted, “you’re shit in potions. It’s kind of funny, actually. Mr. Golden Boy, the pride of the Gryffindor House, can’t even make a basic Pepper-Up Potion.”

Daniel bristled at that, “I can too make a Pepper-Up Potion. Besides, at least I don’t flop in Transfiguration.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I do fine in Transfiguration. It’s your Potions that needs work. Didn’t you set fire to your cauldron just last week?”

“As if,” Daniel rolled his eyes, “You’re so childish, I swear.”

“Did I ask you for your input?” you snapped back, pulling out your wand, “I swear, just seeing your ugly face makes me want to hex you.”

Daniel smirked, “that’s not what Jennie was saying last night, though.” Jennie was one of your dorm mates, and extremely sweet.

“Oh, shut the hell up,” you snapped, flicking your wand at him, “anteoculatia!” You snorted as antlers began growing out of Daniel’s head, only to jump as he blasted water at you from his wand, knocking over the jars of ingredients behind you.

“Avis Oppugno!” You waved your wand again, sending a flock of birds after Daniel, who shooed them away. The two of you began full-on dueling, shooting jinxes and hexes at each other as quickly as you could.

“Students!” Slughorn shouted over the ruckus of glass falling, Daniel in the middle of casting a particularly nasty Bat-Boogey Hex. “STUDENTS!”

You stopped casting, wand still raised at Daniel, him the same. You may have hated the guy, but he was quick with his wand, meeting you spell-for-spell.

“Students, Gryffindors and Slytherins are supposed to be getting along, not dueling in supply closets,” Slughorn said, voice condescending as he tsk’ed at the two of you. You rolled your eyes at your head-of-house.

“Prof, this has nothing to do with him being a Gryffindor,” you replied, crossing your arms after tucking your wand away, “Gryffindors are fine, but Daniel’s irritating, annoying, ugly, rude and disgusting.”

“Yeah?” Daniel snapped, “well, no one likes you.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure your best friend Seongwoo asked me on a date last weekend,” you retorted, drawing your wand out again.

“Okay, okay, kids,” Slughorn said, raising his arms in an attempt to diffuse the situation, “let’s get back to your seats. You two will report for detention with me tonight, and ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin each for causing a disturtabnce in class. Let’s go, get back to work.”

The other students meandered back to their seats, and the spectacle of (y/n) and Daniel, famed rivals, fighting was over.

“This was your fault,” you muttered to Daniel, collecting your lacewing flies quickly.

“Maybe if you weren’t so irritable, this wouldn’t have started,” Daniel hissed back. You just glared at him, taking your seat next to your best friend with a huff.

“So, dentention with Kang Daniel, huh?” Your best friend asked as she began boiling the water, wiggling her eyebrows at you, “I would kill for time alone with him, to be honest.”

“That’s disgusting,” you retorted, carefully chopping up the cayenne pepper, “he’s so irritating, I swear.”

“You know, he’s actually really cute,” she mused, leaning over to stare at the broad-shouldered Gryffindor, “his hair is so soft, and those muscles… what a dream.”

You wrinkled your nose at her, “he’s obnoxious and rude.” You huffed, “that’s not cute.”

“I mean, objectively speaking,” she protested, “like, the dude’s hot, you can’t deny that.”

You shrugged, “I guess objectively speaking yeah, but he’s still an asshole—all the good looks in the world wouldn’t negate that.”

“Well, try not to kill each other during detention,” she joked, stirring the cauldron a bit. You just hummed in response, not wanting to think about that night.
“You two will be testing out a new Potion that I’m planning on teaching the seventh-years,” Slughorn announced once the two of you were sitting in his classroom, Daniel at one desk and you far behind him.

“Professor, are you sure we should be doing seventh-year potions work?” Daniel asked in concern, “don’t you think that’s a little advanced.”

“Yeah, professor,” you began, “I mean, I know I’m gonna be fine, but you know,” your voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “Daniel’s a bit challenged in the Potions department, I’m not sure he’s up for the challenge.”

“Shut up,” Daniel snapped, rolling his eyes, “I’m just saying, we’re not seventh-years. I’ll be fine.”

“Very well,” Slughorn beamed, “here’s the instructions. You’ll be brewing a modified Amortentia; they say it provides the scent of your one true love, but some people are skeptical about the brewing method. You’ll be testing it.”

“Right,” you wrinkled your nose, scanning the blackboard. When you’d made Amortentia before for Potions, you’d smelled warm pumpkin, salty ocean mist, fragrant lavender and sweet vanilla.

“I can collect the ingredients, you can prepare the cauldron,” Daniel muttered, heading to the storage room. Slughorn had left the two of you, and you were slightly questioning his teaching abilities in that moment, but decided to overlook it in favor of selecting a caldron and filling it with water.

The two of you worked silently, coming to a mutual, unspoken agreement to just brew the potion and get done with it. The agreement worked fairly well, save for a couple of times when you bumped into each other.

“Okay, after giving it three counterclockwise stirs, it should be done,” Daniel said, reading from the blackboard, “and it’ll release puffs of steam that give off its signature aroma.”

“Thanks, Einstein, but I can read,” you drawled, still doing as you were told. A glistening, almost holographic steam rose from the surface of the pale pink potion, wafting over your senses. Sure enough, there was the scent—pumpkin, the ocean, lavender, and vanilla. It was an interesting combination of scents, but not one that you hated.

“So, you gonna tell me?” Daniel asked with a cocky grin.

“Tell you what,” you asked with a frown, waving your wand to siphon the successful potion into a vial.

“What you smell, of course,” he replied, crossing his arms over his bright maroon Gryffindor sweatshirt.

“Like hell I will,” you retorted with a snort, carefully corking the bottle. “In your dreams, asshole.”

“Sorry, I don’t dream about snakes,” Daniel replied smoothly, making you glance over at him sharply.

“I’m not going to hex you for that comment solely because I don’t want another detention with you,” you snapped, stalking out of the classroom.

“Oh please, you wouldn’t be able to hex me, short stuff” Daniel shot back smugly, looking down at you.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” you hissed, yanking your wand out.

And that’s how Slughorn returned to a ruined classroom, desks overturned and glass broken. Your potion had been caught in the action, completely ruined.

“Another detention tomorrow night,” Slughorn said firmly, “I have no way of knowing if it actually worked, since you turkeys have gone and ruined this lot.”

“This was your fault,” you grumbled to Daniel as the two of you left the classroom.

“I’m not playing this game, (y/n),” Daniel sing-songed, heading up the stairs towards the Gryffindor Tower, “but you totally started it.”

“Yah—“ You began, pulling out your wand, only for Daniel to snicker, hurrying up the stairs. “Ah, what an idiot.” You grumbled after him, frowning before heading to the Slytherin dungeons.

“You brew the potion this time,” you informed Daniel as you settled into the Potions classroom, the cauldron waiting in front of the two of you. Slughorn had left as soon as you’d gotten there, leaving the two of you to recreate the potion.

“What? Why?” Daniel whined, pouting at you. You just rolled your eyes in response.

“Look buddy, I brewed it last night,” you replied, patting the side of the cauldron, “it’s your turn to stir clockwise twenty times. I’ll go grab the ingredients.”

The two of you got to work in silence, you handing Daniel the ingredients when he needed them. You were in the back room rummaging around for the ashwinder eggs when you heard a loud boom, followed by the sound of metal clattering.

Hurrying out to the main classroom, you found Daniel looking back at you with wide eyes, the cauldron in front of him billowing smoke at an alarming rate.

“Aguamenti!” you waved your hand at the cauldron, extinguishing the flames that had been licking at the metal before hurrying over. “God, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I stirred too many times,” Daniel replied sheepishly. You inspected the cauldron, only to begin coughing at the heavy smoke still coming from it.

“We still have time to remake it,” you said with a resigned voice, not looking forward to spending the whole night remaking a potion for detention. “I don’t want to have another night of detention, I have an essay for History of Magic Due.”

“Sorry,” Daniel said sheepishly, cheeks a bit pink as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I can—“

“No,” you cut him off, “I’m brewing this time. Just get me all the ingredients, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel nodded, hurrying to the back storage room. He deposited the initial ingredients on the desk next to you, frowning at his mistake still. “Hey, if you’re okay with it, I’m gonna head to my dorm and bring some of these candles that I have?”

You turned to Daniel, “candles?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, clearly embarrassed, “Park Woojin has this habit of setting his bed curtains on fire while he’s sleeping, so I keep these scented candles around to make the smell go away.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you waved him off, not really wanting Daniel around anyways in case he fucked up the Potion—again. “Just don’t let Slughorn see that you’re not there.”

Daniel nodded before disappearing, and you turned your focus back to the potion, carefully following the directions like you had the night before. You carefully stirred the liquid, peering inside the cauldron before adding the rose thorns and powdered moondust.

“I got them,” Daniel burst into the classroom again, setting the candles down and flicking his wand to light them. You nodded, not really paying attention to him. You began absentmindedly playing with your robe, picking at a loose thread. The potion was almost complete—it just needed to finish brewing, and then after the final three stirs, it would be done.

As you tried tugging on the thread from your robe, your nose twitched, the scents of pumpkin, ocean, lavender and vanilla washing over you.

“Oh? You stirred it?” You asked, a bit peeved that Daniel had stirred the potion, but mostly glad that it was finally done.

“Hm?” Daniel asked, glancing up from the candles that he’d been looking at. You froze, the situation adding up. Four candles sat in front of Daniel—one orange one, one blue one, one purple one, and one white one. Pumpkin, ocean, lavender and vanilla. Daniel’s candles.

“N-nothing!” You exclaimed, cheeks heating up as you hurried to give the potion the final three stirs.

“Wait, (y/n), are you okay?” Daniel asked, getting up as you rushed to take the cauldron off the fire, using your wand to get the potion into a clean vial.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied hurriedly, just wanting to get away from the whole situation. No way was Kang Daniel your soulmate.

“(y/n), really,” Daniel replied, “if you’re mad that I messed the potion up earlier, I really am sorry, I can help you with that essay if you—“

“No, it’s good,” you rushed, shoving your things into your bookbag. “I’ll see you.” With that, you raced out of the classroom, clutching your heart as you hurried to the Slytherin dorms.

“(y/n), what’s going on?” Your best friend eyed you suspiciously.

“Nothing, I swear,” you whispered back, trying to copy the notes from the board. Professor McGonagall focused her intense glare at the two of you, turning away when she was satisfied that you weren’t talking.

“You’ve been acting weird for a week now,” she hissed back, “ever since your detention with Daniel. Something happened, and you’re not telling me.”

“No, I swear,” you shook your head, “nothing happened. I’d tell you if something did.” You were good at lying—after all, you weren’t in Slytherin for nothing—but she saw right through it.

“Fine, if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll respect that,” she shrugged, “but I know something happened.”

“Nothing happened,” you groaned.

“Ladies!” McGonagall snapped, glaring at the two of you, “when I am teaching, you are taking notes, not whispering.”

“Yes, Professor,” the two of you chorused. As you turned back to your parchment, you noticed Daniel peering at your curiously from the corner of your eye.

After class, you shoved your things into your backpack, eager to get to the Great Hall for lunch.

“Hey, (y/n),” Daniel called as you exited the classroom, your best friend giving you A Look. “Can I talk with you real quick?”

You sighed, spinning to face him. The corridor was soon clear, all the students rushing to get lunch.

“What, Daniel?” you asked with a frown, crossing your arms.

“I was just wondering…” he began, cheeks a bit pink, “I was wondering if everything is okay? You’ve been acting really weird ever since detention, and I wasn’t sure if I did something to make you upset or angry.”

You huffed, “no, Daniel, for once, it wasn’t you that made my life miserable.”

Daniel frowned at that, “so something is up? Are you okay?”

You groaned internally, “it’s fine, Daniel, just leave it.”

“No, seriously,” Daniel pressed, “if you need help with something, I can help you. Was it the History of Magic paper? I’m pretty good at History of Magic, and I know Pro—“

“You’re my fucking soulmate, Daniel,” you snapped, unable to keep listening to him babble on and on, “you’re my fucking soulmate and I had to discover this in fucking detention because you don’t understand the basic concept of stirring a fucking cauldron. So no, you can’t help me.”

You stormed off, ignoring Daniel’s calls after you. All you wanted was to sit and eat lunch with your friends, not deal with all this romance stuff. It was stupid and a waste of your time.

The next couple of days were chaotic for you. As much as you wanted to ignore the fact that you were meant to spend the rest of your life with Daniel, you couldn’t help but think—what if? Suddenly, all the classes you had with him were a chance for your heart to speed up instead of your temper to explode. The quips you traded with him turned into averted gazes and pink cheeks, and even your classmates started to notice the awkward atmosphere around the two of you.

Soon, two weeks had passed since your outburst with Daniel. Your friends had picked up on the obvious tension between the two of you, but opted not to say anything.

“Hey, (y/n)?” Lee Woojin, a small Hufflepuff, approached where you and your friends were sitting in the library, studying for a test coming up.

“Yeah?” You asked, smiling at the adorable Hufflepuff.

“Professor Slughorn wanted to see you,” Woojin relayed nervously, playing with his fingers.

“Thanks for letting me know,” you replied, smiling at him, “I’ll be back soon.”

“See you!” Your friends responded as you left the table, hurrying in the direction of the Potions classroom.

When you entered, you frowned at the empty room, poking your head into the supply closet and then Slughorn’s office.

“(y/n),” you heard someone say, and your blood ran cold.

“No, no, no, I’m not doing this,” you chanted, hurrying towards the door.

“(y/n), please,” Daniel said quietly, reaching out to grab your wrist. “Please, can we just talk?”

You turned slowly to face him, heart speeding up a bit. “Fine. Talk,” you waved your hand, motioning for him to begin, “I’ll give you a minute.”

Daniel ran a hand through his messy hair, and you noticed how tired and ragged he looked, “(y/n), look, I’ve been thinking a lot about this. A lot about what happened, a lot about, you know, us.”

“Get to your point, Daniel,” you snapped, “you’ve got 45 seconds.”

“Give us a shot,” he said, getting right to the point, “if the universe thinks that we belong together, don’t we owe it to the fates to at least try?”

“Daniel, why the hell would I try and date someone who’s been teasing me for years?” You snapped, glaring up at him.

“Because I know there’s something there,” he said, getting closer to you. You stepped back, and your back hit the stone wall of the dungeon. “I know that you’ve noticed it, and you know what they say—love and hate are only a step away.”

“And who’s saying I’m willing to take that step?” You challenged, looking up at him defiantly.

“Just do this one thing for me, and if you’re still not willing, I’ll stop,” Daniel said, dangerously quiet. You then noticed how close he was to you, breath fanning over your face. Then suddenly, Daniel’s lips were on yours.

You responded, tilting your head as you reached up, tangling your hand in the small hairs at the nape of his neck. The kiss deepened, and you felt butterflies in your stomach as he pulled away breathlessly, pushing the hair away from your face.

“Willing to take the step now?” He asked with a smirk, and you just sighed, trying to catch your breath.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Kang Daniel,” you replied, before pulling his tie down to kiss him again.

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to see Tomarry with 6. "Woah. You're gay!? I never would have guessed."

Hey friend. This got long. I’m sorry.

“If you’d like, Harry, I can get Colin Creevey over there to take a picture for you. Surely that would be more effective than staring,” Ginny said, snickering as she pulled away from Harry’s swatting hand, his lips twisted into sneer.

“Sod off,” he muttered, lowering his gaze back to his plate as he dug his fork a bit too forcefully into a piece of sausage. 

Ginny shifted, propping her elbow up on the table and settling her chin in her hands. “You know, there’s no shame in it. Thinking he’s attractive. Everyone does,” she said, letting her golden brown eyes flick over across the Great Hall, settling on the form of the seventh year Slytherin. Tom Riddle sat separate from his peers, a book charmed to hover before him as a feather quill twirled in front of his face, scratching over a parchment. He was taking studious notes of whatever the contents were of that tome, pausing every once in a while to take a bite of his breakfast. He was very precise, and Harry certainly did not observe him closely enough to know he chewed each bit of food exactly thirteen times. 

He forced himself to tear his eyes away, shrugging his shoulders in a manner he hoped looked casual. “I don’t fancy him.” He ignored Ginny’s derisive snort, pausing only a second before adding, “And if I did, it wouldn’t matter. Like you said, everyone finds him attractive, and I hardly think I would be his type.”

Ginny hummed thoughtfully. “You never know. From what I understood, he’s never shown interest in anyone. Not for lack of trying mind you, he just never seemed to fancy the girls as much as they fancied him. Maybe because he doesn’t fancy them at all?” she said, and Harry looked up at her, receiving a wink in return. 

But he turned away, focusing once more on his breakfast as he shoved a forkful into his mouth. He hated how astute Ginny was- or really, if he were being honest, how obvious he was about his own affections. He had been attracted to Tom Riddle for long as he could remember, his attention wavering down the path of platonic interest as he grew older. As he began to take notice of things beyond kind smiles and conversation, blushing at the thoughts that seemed so foreign and enticing. And while other boys his age struggled with budding sexuality, it had never been a question in his own mind. He wanted Tom Riddle, but to hope that he would ever return the feelings was a fool’s errand. 

Harry Potter was many things, but a fool was not one of them. And while he was unable to stop his gaze from straying to the Slytherin as if he were a beacon in the darkness, he would not get his hopes up.

Tom Riddle hated Harry Potter. He hated his head of untidy black hair, falling into his face and curling around his ears and jaws as if he didn’t know what a comb was and had a pathological fear of a barber. He hated those wire-rimmed glasses which sat crooked on his face, sliding down his nose. He hated those eyes, how bright and wide and green they were, like the scales glittering over the spear shaped head of a snake. 

But more than anything, he hated that no matter how hard he studied, no matter how talented and intelligent Tom was and the fact that he was the top of the entire class- brightest student Hogwarts had ever seen!- he could never beat Potter in a duel.

It was infuriating! He was nothing remarkable- good enough in his own way, Tom supposed, if he was being generous. But Potter was mediocre at best, spending more time in the Quidditch field with his Gryffindor friends than studying. It was humiliating to be beaten by him- by what was essentially a toddler with a wand.

He had summed it up to his father being an Auror- perhaps it ran in his blood?- but that was hardly satisfying. 

And so, every Friday night, when the students gathered for the Dueling Club and Professor Lupin- the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher- asked if there were any volunteers, Tom would slowly raise his hand, requesting to fight against Potter. 

And every Friday night- without fail- Potter would somehow manage to disarm him. The memory of all those duels was enough to make his nostrils flare in barely tethered anger.

“Mr. Riddle?” Professor Lupin asked, stirring him from his thoughts as he looked down at him from the dais with a growing grin. “Before I accept volunteers, would you like to kick us off by dueling Mr. Potter?” 

Tom considered him for a moment before lowering his gaze to meet the Gryffindor in question. Potter stood on the opposite side of the platform, lips quirked into a shaky smile, a girl with long red hair stifled a laugh beside him.

“No, Professor, this week I’d think I’d like to observe,” he said, dark blue eyes never leaving Potter’s face so that he shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze, a blush creeping up from the collar of his uniform. Tom had some dignity, after all.

Lupin looked surprised for a second, before saying, “Very well” and turning to select a Hufflepuff with her hand raised. 

Tom Riddle hated Harry Potter, for many things, but what he hated most was how much he enjoyed watching him blush under unfaltering eyes. How much he simply enjoyed looking at him.

Harry reclined against the lockers, resting his head and closing his eyes. He was exhausted, the Quidditch match having lasted far longer than anticipated. It was well into the evening when he had finally- finally- caught the snitch, the bulky padding of his uniform weighing down heavily on him, making him sweat despite the air beginning to cool as the sun fell below the horizon. 

He sat alone in the locker room now, the others cutting their celebration short and hastily returning to Gryffindor Tower so as to not be caught out after hours. There was only so much leniency given. But Harry was hardly concerned. He had his cloak and the map, and it would certainly not be the first time he wandered the halls when he was supposed to be safe within his dormitories. 

He had lingered behind, wanting to enjoy a moment of peace before walking into what was sure to be a lively party in full swing, the uproarious Gryffindors never wasting an opportunity to celebrate. And despite her best efforts, Hermione never had very good success with corralling them, sighing in resignation as she muttered between teeth about how so long as there wasn’t any alcohol present she supposed she could let just one night slide. He smiled at the thought of her frustration, her begrudgingly admitting that yes, perhaps it was a bit fun if it wasn’t so loud. He wondered if any of the other houses partied the way the Gryffindors did, and immediately dismissed the idea with a snorted laugh. He could hardly imagine Tom Riddle at a party of any sort, even the paltry ones he was sure the Slytherins threw.

His reverie was cut short however, startled by the sound of a door creaking on its hinges, footsteps clicking along the marble floors. He sat up, shuffling up into a standing position and clenching at the towel still cinched at his waist, cursing himself for not dressing immediately after his shower. Half naked was certainly a way to be caught, and he was sure his father and Sirius would never let him live this down if word ever got out. Which it surely would, given their other best mate was one of his teachers.

By the them time he was standing, opening his locker and hastily pulling his clothes out of it, the footsteps came to a halt, and he grimaced, groaning audibly when he saw that of course none other than Tom Riddle stood before him, an eyebrow raised.

Harry knitted his brows, skewing his lips. “What are you doing here? This is the Gryffindor locker rooms,” he asked, saying the words as if he was speaking to a child.

Tom regarded him for a moment, eyes flicking over his form before returning to to meet his. “Several students were caught in rather compromising positions in the locker rooms after matches, and they were added to the Head Boy’s rounds to make certain such transgressions didn’t happen again.” Then his lips quirked, pulling into a small smile as he chuckled, the noise deep and warm. “Though, this is the first time we found only one student in such a position.”

Harry ducked his head behind the locker, hoping he couldn’t see the deep shade of maroon he was sure he was turning, his face hot and fevered as he gripped the towel tighter. “Bugger off. I’m about to change and head back.”

“Ten points for being out after curfew. And I’ll have to escort you, to be certain you don’t get up to any other rule breaking. You Gryffindors are far too reckless with rules.”

Harry slammed the locker shut, narrowing his eyes at the entirely too smug Slytherin. “Yeah well, at least we’re brave enough to not back down from a duel,” he taunted. “What’s the matter Riddle, got tired of being thrown on your arse?” A flicker of irritation crossed over his face, and Harry grinned. He had thought it a bit strange when Tom had not requested to duel him- a bit of a weekly ritual they had engaged in. It had not taken Harry long at all to realize that Tom was suffering from a bit of a bruised ego- Defense was Harry’s best subject, and not even the perfect Tom Riddle could kick that throne out from below him.

But the look of irritation was gone almost as quickly as it had come, replaced instead with something a bit more curious, a bit dark. Lips twisted into a wry smirk, and Tom took several steps closer to Harry, hands clasped behind his back as he focused on him once more with those unsettling eyes of his. “No, I just decided that today I would rather observe,” he said, his voice deeper, sibilant. Like silk. A shiver ran down Harry’s spine as he got the distinct feeling that Tom wasn’t talking about the dueling club.

He swallowed, standing a bit straighter as he rose his hand, a shirt clenched in his fist. “Well, just give me a second and I’ll get dressed.” He was suddenly very aware of his state of undress, and of the heat in Riddle’s gaze.

He made to turn, to move to one of the stalls designated for changing when fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him sharply back as a hand on his shoulders shoved him against the lockers. He huffed out a gasp of air, ready to tell the Slytherin off, when lips crashed against his own.

His eyes widened in surprise, his entire body stilling. Tom Riddle was kissing him, one hand still curled around his wrist and the other moving down from his shoulder to settle on his hip, pinning him against the wall of lockers. He could feel the firm grip even through the thick terrycloth towel, and after only a second of hesitation, Harry returned the kiss with fervor, hands reaching out to grasp hold of Tom’s robe and pull him tighter against him. 

There was something warm unfurling in his chest, something like delight and pleasure and excitement and joy. He was over the moon, and for a second he wondered if he had dozed off against the lockers, or slipped in the shower and smacked his head against stone walls and this was all a dream. But it couldn’t have been, it all felt too real. The thick fabric clutched in his hands, the feeling of a warm and wet tongue exploring his mouth with interest. 

The kiss ended entirely too soon, Tom pulling away from him with swollen and parted lips, an errant curl falling into his face. He was breathing quite heavily, pupils dilated, and there was something incredibly wonderful and delicious about seeing someone normally so put together- the sort of someone who chewed food exactly thirteen times, who looked so polished that not even  strand of hair fell out of place-fall a part.

“Woah. You’re gay!? I never would have guessed,” Harry muttered before he could stop himself, his chest rising and falling as his voice sounded quite strained. 

Tom rose a brow at him, shaking his head. “I really hate you,” he mumbled below his breath before closing the distance between the two of them once more, pressing himself against Harry. 

Send me a prompt number and characters from here or here


Harry could only feel warm arms wrapping around his waist, the weight of the other’s body strangely confortable against his back. Draco hummed and even though Harry couldn’t see his face, the way his arms tightened told him everything.  

‘You thought I’d left, didn’t you?’ He found himself whispering, unsure. The smell of freshly brewed coffee made Draco’s kitchen feel even cozier than it already was. Draco’s lips brushed against Harry’s neck and he felt himself smiling.

‘Yes’ Draco exhaled, kissing the same spot again, and again.

Harry turned around slowly, immediately noticing Draco’s bare legs.

'You’re not wearing any pants?’ This time, it was him that was placing his hands on Draco’s waist and pulling him towards him. 

'No’ the blond answered, rolling his eyes as he did, and Harry noticed the tension leaving his shoulders.

'Ten points for Slytherin’

Draco laughed and Harry knew staying was his only option.

anonymous asked:

fahye who are some authors you've followed into unknown fandoms/your favourite authors? i'm dying for recs


  • this list has to be topped with @astolat​ because I trust her tastes to line up superbly with mine, to the point where I will hungrily read tens of thousands of words of slytherin dad/gryffindor dad fanfic for a video game I am never going to play. just open her fandoms list, flail around, and click at random. it will probably be so good you want to punch something.
  • the great, the one, the only @cesperanza​ was the reason I got into due south fanfic when I was a tiny baby fandomer, and that got me into due south the show, and then exactly the same thing happened with stargate: atlantis. her captain america fic is SU-FUCKING-PERB and will change your life.
  • I deeply resent @seperis​ for making the answer to ‘what fanfic do you reread the most often’ be ‘a piece of american idol RPF’ because her ability to write relationships and stretches of dialogue that store all their emotion and meaning between the lines is just phenomenal. I resent her EVEN MORE for ‘down to agincourt’ because who has the time to throw at literal millions of words of excruciatingly slow-burn WIP destiel fanfic despite caring zero for supernatural as a show? who?? (me, apparently.)
  • sometimes what @dsudis​ writes doesn’t click for me personally, even though it’s always fantastically written. and then sometimes I end up completely fucking engrossed in a generation kill au about sentient wolves. you do not need to know anything about generation kill. or wolves. just go for it.
  • usual tilt of the hat to @rageprufrock​ for making me have endless, ENDLESS feelings about that dude from the social network. among a plethora of other things. pru enjoys long walks on the beach and ripping your soul out through your chest while you wail in confused gratitude. have fun.
  • @gyzym​ waltzes from fandom to fandom like a whirlwind of genius and is another person with whose ao3 profile you could play close-your-eyes-and-click, and end up with a guaranteed great read. including yet more inexplicably compelling RPF.

jjongieness  asked:

could you do shinee as wizards ^^?

i gotchu bebs ^^

shinee goes to hogwarts


  • house: ravenclaw 
  • armful of chocolate frogs (”HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THESE THINGS???”)
  • some got loose so like there’s always one or two chocolate frogs hopping around in the ravenclaw dorms
  • a fantastic flier & quidditch player
  • he’s a chaser and shows off a bit how good he is during matches by spinning the ball on his finger before scoring a goal, kind of his signature move nbd 
  • does really well in defence against dark arts bc he’s controlled with his spells and can think quickly on his feet 
  • was REALLY reluctant at first to run at the wall to get onto the train platform bc dude he hurts himself enough without purposefully running into a brick wall 


  • house: sytherin 
  • disappointed that he can’t talk to snakes 
  • keeps turning onew’s and minho’s school things slytherin green bc his house is the best house clearly 
  • hates divination bc he doesn’t believe the future is set (jong: *peering at his tea leaves* “well will you look at that” / minho: “what???? do you see something???? / jong: “looks like you’re a lil bich in the future too”) 
  • best subject is charms though his wand movements aren’t exact but his magic does what he wants it to do which both impress and frustrate his professors 
  • honestly he’s making up shit but it works so?? 
  • employed taemin to supply him with potions to keep his hair bubblegum pink 


  • house: may i slytherin ;) 
  • under his robes he’s wearing his kermit outfit (jong: why / key: it’s house colors) 
  • friends with the portraits bc he takes the time to talk to them. they sit still sometimes when he asks if he could draw them and yeah it’s kind of strange to draw a painting but that’s art for ya
  • prof uprooted a baby mandrake in class and it screamed and kibum screamed back so loud the plant actually stop screaming for a sec 
  • jong’s partner in charms and is mUCH more technical than he is 
  • very skilled in spells bc he studies them intently before trying them out
  • will hit jong with tickling charm when he refuses to do the spells right (”ten points from slytherin!! kibum try not to torture your partner”) 


  • house: hufflepuff 
  • his trunk is stuffed with just hufflepuff scarves he literally hoards them
  • also a chaser and has a longstanding rivalry with onew so hufflepuff v ravenclaw games are always fun bc they’re so intense thanks to those two
  • when he’s not playing he’s the announcer and he gets the crowd SO hyped 
  • flies circles over key’s head to tease him, gleefully kicking his legs back and forth
  • goes through quills so quickly bc he keeps breaking them by accident 
  • hippogriffs like him and he wants to fly on one day and is working on earning their respect  
  • can apparate well but sh it’s a secret he’s not supposed to know how to do that yet


  • house: hundo p slytherin 
  • has turned jong’s hair orange before and he was V mad 
  • honestly a mad scientist in potions
  • gets bored with just sticking with what they’re learning in class bc hullo this is basic stuff 
  • experiments and sometimes his concoction explodes and the room smell like fart for an entire week (taemin evacuations are not that uncommon and profs are trained for the situation)
  • actually helps out in the infirmary bc he’s good at creating potions on the fly for injuries.. they don’t smell that great tho usually 
  • sends shinee howlers on their birthdays bc it’s not quite a celebration until there’s a red envelope scream-singing happy birthday in your face first thing in the morning 6v6 

thebaekfastclub  maknagisa harry potter au for you guys as well! <3

i am by no means a harry potter expert and i hope i didn’t make a really erroneous mistake! 

Insufferable-Sirius Black Imagine

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where reader is a sarcastic Slytherin girl who thinks Sirius is childish and immature and Sirius thinks she’s irritating but eventually they find middle ground bc of some event and get together?? 

Warning: slight mention of blood

Hope you enjoy! xo

“Get out of my way, Black,” Y/N demanded, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms impatiently.

“Y/L/N, lovely to see you,” Sirius replied, a sarcastic smile spreading across his face. She tutted in annoyance, trying to move around him, but he simply stepped in her path. “Leaving so soon?”

“I have places to be, and people to see, so I won’t ask again. Move,” she growled, pushing him away from her.

“I’m sure I’d be much better company than the people you’re about to go see,” Sirius said, following after her.

“Definitely,” Y/N replied sarcastically, shooting him a withering smile. 

“Say hello to your fellow snakes for me,” Sirius said, stopping and managing to purposely step on her cloak. She stumbled as it tugged her back, and whirled on him.

“You know what, Black? You’re nothing but an immature, childish prat! All you do is pick on people and expect them to kiss the ground that you walk on!” she snapped, poking her finger in his chest.

“Oh, really? What about you? You’re so irritating, acting like you’re all high and mighty. Sorry, princess, but you can’t get everything you want!” Sirius retorted. 

“You’re insufferable,” Y/N spat.

“And you’re annoying,” Sirius growled. They stood there for a second, reddened faces inches apart, glaring into each other’s eyes. Y/N, realizing how close they were, stepped back with a scowl. Shooting him a scathing glare, she turned on her heel and stormed away.

Keep reading

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: Finding the Words

8k words, G rated

Scorpius is being weird – more weird than normal, that is. He’s spending longer than ever in the library, he hasn’t spoken to Albus in weeks, and he keeps forgetting to do his homework. Albus is determined to find out what’s wrong with him and help. That’s just what you have to do when your best friend is upset. 

Thanks to @abradystrix for being a stellar human being and beta, and thanks to @the-eighth-story for nudging me to add the last scene. <3 

Keep reading

Slytherin!Minghao x Gryffindor!Reader
  • You, my lovely accomplished reader, are the Captain & Keeper for the Gryffindor quidditch team.
  • Words cannot describe how ecstatic you are to be a part of the team and represent your house, it’s an honor.
  • So when you’re walking down the hall and hear some guy mutter under their breath “come on, what’s so good about the Gryffindor team? When was the last time they won?”, you freeze in place momentarily.
  • You come back to your senses, turn around and stomp up to this kid, yelling loud enough for everyone to hear: “Even though Gryffindor hasn’t won in recent years, you can bet your magic that I’ll make sure we win this year!”, all while staring down the person who made the snide comment.
  • It wasn’t until you walked away and your rage fizzled down that you took a moment to appreciate that that guy was really cute.
  • But that didn’t matter, if that person has the audacity to make rude remarks about your quidditch team, it doesn’t matter how cute he is He can kindly fuck off.
  • Later that night you’re relaxing in the Gryffindor commons room, when you overhear some people talking about you.
  • “And when Minghao was talking shit about the Gryffindor team, Y/N roasted him in front of everyone and then stormed off”
  • “I don’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed”
  • “As long as they actually keep their promise to win, then shouldn’t we be proud?”
  • You backtrack in your mind to your outburst in the hall earlier and realize: “I told off Minghao, the best Beater that Slytherin has had in the past 100 years. He’s gonna freaking kill me in the Gryffindor vs Slytherin match next week”
  • Your relaxing is cut short and you understandably go crawl in bed, beginning to panic.
  • But you pull yourself together, thinking “okay, it’s fine, we’re just going to train even harder, and not back down from this challenge”
  • When you see him in the hall and in your classes, you become more aware of Minghao and begin to notice him more and more.
  • You can’t help but wonder if he’s mad at you for calling him out like that, or if he even remembers what you said to him (oh trust me, he did, but you don’t know that).
  • The two of you didn’t have a rivalry before, but you definitely do now.
  • You sit at the table directly behind his in Potions, and almost every time you have class, he’ll turn around, glance at you, turn back to the front, and then whisper in a different language to his friend Jun, who sits right next to him.
  • You’re like “does all this boy know how to do is talk shit about people?? G o s h”
  • And it seems like if you ever see him in the hallway, he stares you down the whole time.
  • Basically, you’re 97% sure he hates your guts.
  • To help follow through with your promise to beat Slytherin, you call for extra practices every day leading up to the match.
  • At first your teammates were like “dear god why”, but you gave them a good pep talk, and got everyone motivated to go all out for this match.
  • The Slytherin team apparently had the same idea though, causing your two teams to have to share the practice field.
  • The first day this happened though, you were running drills with your team, when out of the corner of your eye, you see a mob of green creeping towards you, and you’re just like “gosh darn it, Slytherin please leave me alone”
  • Their captain, a Chaser named Jun, and Minghao’s best friend (the one who he keeps talking to about you), approaches you and says “Hey, I think we both booked the field, do you mind if we just split it in half? I promise we will try our best not to bother your team”
  • And you’re like, “…Yeah… I mean that sounds great with me. Good luck with your training”
  • Because this Slytherin boy?? Who has been listening to Minghao talk shit about you every Potion’s class is being nice to you?? What kind of witchcraft is this.
  • But you’re like “I’m gonna try not to hold a grudge against Slytherin, we have the same goal- to win the match”
  • This one Slytherin kid keeps coming up to your team members when they’re resting and is talking to them.
  • Jun doesn’t seem to notice this at all though, so you walk up to the kid about the third time it happens and are like “do you need something?”
  • And this kid says “Hi! I’m Chan! I just wanted to wish your team good luck our upcoming match, but Jun told me not to go fly over to your side of the field. So I figured I’d wish you guys good luck when you’re taking a break”
  • In your head you’re like “this boy. He’s so p u r e. Someone protect him”
  • Out loud you’re like “Oh, well thank you! And good luck to you, too!”
  • He grins and begins to walk back to his team, when he turns around and shouts to you, “Oh, Y/N! Minghao says ‘Hi’!”, and then walks away.
  • Meanwhile you’re like 1.) I did not tell this sweet child my name. Is Minghao talking shit about me to his whole team???, and 2.) IF WE’RE RIVALS, WHAT THE HECK IS “HI” SUPPOSED TO MEAN
  • So you talk to your teammates who are currently sitting down and resting and are like “hey what did that kid say to you??”
  • They’re answer and say “He wished us good luck. And asked us if you were seeing anyone”
  • You’ve been so competitive and focused on this match that someone taking a romantic interest in you just does not compute in your head at all.
  • You brush it off as the Slytherin team trying to play some mind games and get to you, and ignore it completely.
  • So for the next handful of days before the match, your teams both practice on your respective sides of the field.
  • And every day Chan walks over and asks your benched teammates random questions about you, like what kind of flowers you like, your favorite color, if you have a crush on anyone, etc.
  • But he’s so sweet and cheerful that you never tell him to stop or to go back to his own team, you just let him keep asking.
  • But you’re like “hey team, don’t answer his questions, I don’t know what he’s up to”
  • And your team is like “yes captain”, and then as soon as you leave to go coach some of the Chasers, they’re like “CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SOMEONE LIKES THE CAPTAIN???”, “which one of the Slytherin members is it?”, and “gosh I hope it’s not Jun, he’s s o o o dreamy!” my lowkey Jun stan is showing
  • Finally, the day of the match arrives and you’re like “let’s get this over with so I never have to even think about Minghao, and his stupid pretty face… or the Slytherin team ever again”
  • The score generally favors Slytherin, as it normally does. But that’s alright with you, because your team’s strategy is to get that snitch, and get it fast.
  • The score is 178 to 37, Slytherin in the lead, when you finally see it. The seekers for both teams see it, too. The Golden Snitch. If Slytherin gets one more goal (they’re worth ten points), it doesn’t matter who gets the snitch, Slytherin would still win, 188 to 187.
  • So when you see a quaffle coming for your goal, seemingly just out of your reach, you make a risky, split second decision.
  • You step onto the wooden part of your broom, watching the quaffle and it’s increasing proximity to your goal. While you’re in the zone, completely focused on your next move, the Slytherin team has caught on to what you’re doing, and it seems like all of them stop. To your delight, your Gryffindor seeker keeps chasing the snitch, even though Chan (the Slytherin Seeker) stops to see if you’ll actually do it.
  • You hear a “Y/N, DON’T!” and see some Slytherin player rushing towards you, but it’s too late. You’ve made up your mind.
  • As soon as that quaffle comes speeding towards the goal, you leap as far as you can, and wrap your body around the quaffle, taking the full impact of it hitting you in the chest, knocking the wind out of you.
  • You plummeting to the ground prevents you from catching your breath, and you faint from not being able to breath. But right before you fade out, you feel an impact, a much softer one this time, and see a blur of emerald green fabric before completely losing consciousness.
  • When you wake up in the infirmary, you have one question on your mind, so when you’re just conscious enough to make out general shapes around you, and one of them looks like a person, you ask the person-shaped blob: “Who won the match?”
  • The blob puts a hand on your shoulder and says “Don’t worry Y/N, you won. You told me you would”
  • You snap out of your semi-conscious haze, and turn your head to see that of all the people who would be next to you, it’s Minghao. G r e a t.
  • You: “Why are you even here”, you snap at him.
  • Minghao: “Who the hell do you think caught you? And why would you do something so dangerous like that? If it wasn’t for me, do you think anyone would’ve been able to get to you before you hit the ground?”
  • You were proud of your victory until he pointed out how reckless you had been. And as you start to feel the dull pain in your chest from the impact, you really begin to question your decision. But hey- it’s not like you could go back and change what you did, so you might as well be happy that you won.
  • Minghao: “Honestly though, do you know how much of a scare you gave me? I don’t think I’ve been that worried in my life”
  • You: “Why would you be worried about me? All you do is talk bad about me”
  • Minghao: “…when have I ever done that”
  • You: “In Potions, like every single class! You’re always looking at me and then talking to Jun in another random language!
  • Minghao: “First off, it’s not some random language, it’s Mandarin, genius. And second, I haven’t been talking shit about you, I’ve been telling Jun everything I love about you, and how I couldn’t get you out of my mind ever since you told me off”
  • In your head, you’re like “y o u  w h a t”. 10/10 that was not what you were expecting.
  • You: “You… fell for me, essentially because I roasted you in the hall??”
  • Minghao: “No one has ever said a damn thing to me if they heard me saying something they disagreed with. I’m not really sure why though. Jun says it’s because I have ‘severe RBF’, whatever that’s supposed to mean, but you not only called me out, you challenged yourself to do better, and I loved that”
  • You: “So is that why that cute kid Chan kept bothering my teammates about what flowers I like and what my favorite color and all that??”
  • Minghao: “…you tell me”
  • He points to a vase on the sidetable next to your infirmary bed, blooming with your favorite flowers, with a ribbon in your favorite color tied in a bow in the curve of the vase.
  • Without even realizing it, you feel immensely relieved. You thought he hated you, and before, you didn’t know why it bothered you so much whether he despised you or not, but now you know it’s because along the way, you developed feelings for him.
  • So in your drugged-up-on-pain-meds state, you go for it.
  • You: “So, once I get healed, would you want to go on a date with me?”
  • He looks at you, wide-eyed, obviously not expecting you to feel the same way he does. Speechless, he nods his head repeatedly, grinning widely.
  • But his smile suddenly drops, and you stop breathing- thinking that he’s changed his mind and you’ve just embarrassed yourself.
  • Minghao: “You do realize that you have two broken ribs, though? We won’t be able to go on a date for a while then… but could come visit you every day?”
  • You let out a relieved sigh and agree.
  • And that’s exactly what Minghao does, he comes and visits you every day until you fully heal- bringing you homework, playing card games with you, and telling you all kinds of crazy stories.
  • Minghao: “And then Jihoon turned Seungcheol’s hair pink”
  • You: “Yeah trust me, I know that. Who do you think was the one who had to figure out how to turn it back?”
  • Your relationship from there on out consists of hyper competitive quidditch matches, and roasting people together as a couple.
  • And you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
amortentia [young!tom riddle x reader] pt.5

premise: two students start developing feelings for one another despite having too many secrets to count.

tagging:  @cheshirecatbyul @junieyes​ @whaledenwtf@xoxomioxoxo ​( if anyone else wants to be tagged, please let me know!)

warnings: angst, disturbing themes, fluff, blood

amortentia masterpost | MASTERLIST.

5. thorns

Startled you yelp and snap your head to the nearby window that a black crow had, by accident, hit. Katherine, beside you, raises a brow and swiftly continues moving, not sparing a glace; her robe kisses the ground and creates this sort of hissing that echoes in the empty corridor. The two of you are late. Missing Advanced Potions for perhaps ten minutes already, yet neither of you are in any sort of rush. You press the leather tomb closer to your chest, watch as a lone black feather sadly floats down and out your view and how its details are even more striking in such bleak weather.

What an unlucky sign, first thing in the morning too. Your name falls from Katherine’s lips as impatient she snaps her head to you, motioning for you to follow her down the flight of spiralling stairs into the dungeons. You glance at her, then at the window, then back at her again and fall into motion. Your shoulders square as the strange croak of pain the bird made rings in your earlobe. It had been a minute since your last encounter with Tom Riddle alone – two weeks to be exact, - and whilst the sudden revelation that the most beloved boy in school speaks the language of the damned had not fully sunk in then, now it surely has. You feel like you walk on glass each time he catches your attention from across the Library or class. Not that you fear him, more like you fear other people finding out and shunning him for it.

The two of you glide down the stairwell in complete silence. Katherine is not in the best of moods, and if you truly cared perhaps you would’ve bothered asking why, but you prefer this sounds of footsteps and swishing robes and heated breaths so you don’t pry. The temperature drops. It is cold here and you shiver. Damp. The air sticks to your skin. Not dark, but dim, and the warm light of torches bounces off the mossy walls and creates a sort of deep green glow.

As you pass some doors you hear snippets of chatter, but they are diluted, hardly coherent. Finally, Professor Slughorn’s class is within reach and taking a few quick strides you are first to reach the door, first to hook your fingers around the cold metal of the handle and you pull with such force that the door budges and creaks and the students inside seem to stop their idle conversation to eye what is happening. You step through and let Katherine pass; Professor Slughorn turns his head to greet the two of you with a pleased smile, “Ah, Miss (Lastname), Miss Duviar, I trust Professor Hauet didn’t give you trouble?”

Katherine hands the heavy book to the Potions Professor, “Of course not, she was delighted to help.” Your eyes briefly wander around the class: the merged group of Gryffindors and Slytherins stands in a half circle around a table with various potions and pots brewing. You note no distinguished scents despite the fumes fogging up the small windows. A few students stare at you as you and Katherine go stand with your group. One, namely, Tom Riddle, in the very back corner accompanied by his best friends from both sides. Your gazes meet and the faint memory from the Pet Shop sparks in mind; suddenly, the two of you are alone, in the warm glow of the fireplace with creaking floorboards under your feet and an amber snake that goes in circles. The whole room goes in vertigo.

Katherine notes how distracted you are and nudges you softly to the side. You blink, snap away and raise a questioning brow at her. She says nothing, simply looks straight at the cluttered table and the excited Professor beside it. For the better half of the first lesson Slughorn shows and explains different potions you are going to make as the year progresses, warns of their complexity and the consequences should one make them wrong. Finally, he moves to the last cauldron, a small black pot that is the size of both of your palms combined and with an ornate little top on it, preventing any fumes to leak out its cracks. Most of the students, that were bored and quietly chatted amongst themselves, shat up once Slughorn called for their attention by clearing his throat.

“Now then, I believe this potion is one you will all enjoy hearing about…” With a gentle smile he lifts the top off and the room seeps with heavy dazing scents that hit so unexpectedly you have to stand firmer in order not to fall. A rosy hue leaks from the cauldron along with spiralling fumes that melt into the ceiling once they reach it. The Professor, after admiring his handiwork for a heartbeat, turns back to the class and eyes each and every one knowingly, “Can anyone tell me what this harmless little elixir is?”

You take in a deep breath and can practically feel soft petals of flowers touch your fingertips, the ones you grow back home, your favourite kind; if you were to close your eyes you are positive you would see them clear as day, right there, by the entrance to the shed with the gardening tools and empty paint buckets…And then, the library, the soft creaks of newly opened books and the scent of ink on them…Your heart jumps and you snap out of your daze. There is an odd scent mixing in between the two, dominating almost but for the life of you, you can’t figure out who it belongs to. Shyly, your hand raises and Professor Slughorn turns to you.

“Yes, Miss (Lastname)?”

“Is it a…Love potion, perhaps?”

“Correct! Ten points to Slytherin!” He says enthusiastic, “What we have here is a real example of ‘Amortentia’, the most powerful love potion in the world…Though calling it love is a misgiven in itself. What it creates is merely an illusion, an intense and overpowering infatuation that does nothing…But hurt, in the end.” His pauses, “That’s why we can safely consider it the most dangerous potion in this classroom.” He gently sets the lid back down and the fog fades in a cloud of scented pink smoke. The class takes a collective inhale and smiles sheepishly at one another, “Creating it is strictly illegal.” Slughorn warns, “Should you be caught with it expulsion awaits you.” He moves, “There are many mock love potions, ones that you can get your hands on if you try hard enough, but I discourage you. Though the effects of those potions are hardly as strong and last much shorter, they often lead to poisoning.” Taking the books you and Katherine have brought, he holds them up. Complex titles in gold printed letters glimmer in the dimness of the room, “Most of them can be found here. That is why I will be possessing these books from now on, and be sure that I will not allow you to even peek at them, and if you try to take them on your own I will inform the Headmaster immediately.” He sets them on the table, “Love, death…It is meant to happen naturally. I hope none of you get the idea to make it otherwise…Now then, off to your tables and turn to page fifty-six!”

The day continues to drag and you feel more and more worn out as the sun peaked and started to roll back down. Lunch. You sit closer to the wall and Katherine sits in the front, her back turned to you as she insists on tormenting some poor Ravenclaw girl and your friends eagerly watch the exchange with an occasional snicker. Unimpressed you silently eat, lazily skimming over the Daily Prophet. These Muggles and their war…Even the Ministry of Magic is concerned. Finding a particularly interesting interview with the Secretary of Defence, you lean in and absentmindedly stab your fork in the nearly empty plate, always missing the piece of food by mere millimetres.

It is extremely hard to focus as the tormenting from the other side of the table gets louder and you wonder why no teacher steps up; you flick your eyes up to the teacher table and contain a sigh. No one is present, must be a meeting or something along those lines. With a sharp flick of your wrist you turn back to page one and lift your head up, see the approaching horde of Gryffindor’s ready to jump aid.

Katherine!” You call with a tint of anger in your voice. She halts, whips to you with a look that is almost to ask if you want to join in. Your brows knit together and her smug expression falls, “Leave the mud-blood alone, will you?” Your eyes fall to the much smaller, paler girl with bright red blotches kissing the skin of her cheeks, “She’s hardly worth your time.”

“Oi! You can’t call her that!” One fires up at you. Your frown deepens.

“I can.” You say flatly, “And I just did.”

Suddenly you have lost your appetite. With a huff you come to stand and try to ignore how everyone seems to follow your every movement, grasp your bag and fling it on your shoulder and dig your nails into the newspaper. The Gryffindor boy, one that is not keen to let you leave this easy, steps up again and is about to open his mouth but you beat him to it, “Oh mon Dieu…Je me’n fous!” With anger sparking in your chest you send the deadliest glare you can manageand see him visibly shrink under it, before trotting out the Great Hall.

You had every intention of going straight to the Common Room. Your head has been pounding all day and it has only gotten worse, there’s a sick feeling that pools in your stomach and your fingers have been quivering since this morning, so much so that you accidently dropped more powder into your potion than needed and instead of turning a lavish red it coloured a deep purple. What an unlucky day! Rushed footsteps behind you and you pray to whoever is listening that no one is chasing after you, especially that Gryffindor boy.

A hand lands on your shoulder and spins you to face the stranger easily; you are met with the friendly colours of your house and slowly your gaze travels to meet with a much darker green. Tom doesn’t even break a sweat despite having just jogged to you – once you are angry you walk in wide quick strides that others have a hard time keeping up with. Your anger deflates. There is a strange calmness to him, though you can tell he is anything but calm. The corner of his lip is cranked upwards into, dare you say, proud smirk and the hand that stopped you travels to your face. His finger curls a strand of (colour) hair and hooks it behind your ear.

“Should I have not…followed you?” He asks with a teasing tone noting your flushed expression.

“Do as you please…” You mumble and turn away in fear that he will see the sudden heat that strikes your cheeks and how tight your throat is; perhaps he hears the note of strain in your voice and doesn’t elaborate further, simply joins you on your stroll.

“Your friend… Katherine, is it? Certainly a character.”

“She’s a fool.” You blur, tired. “Starting things like that…publically…my mother would end me.”

“I’m guessing you are from a…conservative family?”

“No, I’m from a proper family of Purebloods. She is too, but…” You shake your head softly, “Her views are much ahead of the time.” You tilt your head to him, “What about you?” Tom considers answering, perhaps he’s weighing the pros and cons because he speaks only after a pleasant moment of silence.

“Half-blood. My father is a great wizard…Mother was a muggle.”

Your lips thin into a line, “Was?” the questions escapes you without much thought and sounds so tender and raw that you scold yourself for even speaking. Tom does not take kind to it, you know he doesn’t by the way his face suddenly stiffens and his eyes glaze over coldly.

“She died during childbirth.” He states simply, though you can tell by that alone that this topic is done. You hum, don’t express your condolences since he obviously doesn’t want you to.

“And your father…What’s his name?”

“Tom.” He cracks a smile, “I was named after him.”

“He must be great.”

“He most likely is.” Tom agrees and again you can tell that this is a topic for another time. You nod. “And yours?”

“What about mine?”

“What’s his name?”

“Percival Antoinn (Lastname). He deals with potions and spices…” You trail off.

“And mother?”


“Lauret.” You finally say, though it sounds a bit hollow.

“I suppose, by how you mention her, she is…tough?”

“Not tough. Proper.”

He realizes there and then that families are neither of yours best subjects to chat about, so leaves it be. Your face portrays little emotion, as if you are wandering lost in thought though your eyes bleed with so many memories ideas and stories that you perhaps want to share, but simply can’t. How secretive. He likes it, he knew there was something about your posh accent that he couldn’t shake off and he continues to walk in silence, but with a smile. The two of you are wrapped in secrets like thorns. Walk so close yet appear so distant. Perhaps one day you will open your heart to him. He doubts he will ever do the same, but doesn’t discard the idea completely. He enjoys the mystery for now.


Sneaking Around (Lin/Reader)

Prompt: @hamwriters Write-A-Thon Day 3!  Have you ever read a book and imagined how that’d be an amazing prompt for a fic? Here’s your chance to write them: pick a book plot and get inspired!

Author’s Note: So I mistakenly thought today was reverse POV Day. I write this amazing lin x reader Oscars fic from lin’s pov, then realize today is lit day. So I knocked this out in about an hour. I hope you guys like Harry Potter (and you should be looking forward to day five)!

PS, the reader is a Ravenclaw because I’m a Ravenclaw. #dealwithit

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda/Reader

Summary: You, a Ravenclaw, and Lin, a Slytherin, are dating but are forced to keep it a secret from your housemates who don’t approve. The Yule Ball arrives as a part of the triwizard tournament, and you decide to go together and come out to your friends for the first time.

Rating: T for some PG-13 rated making out

Warnings: Making out in carriages. Damn.

Words: 1043

Askbox / Masterlist / What I Write / This Week’s Works

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Snape x Reader - Mind if check out your restricted section?

Ah, advanced potions, your last class of the week. None other than Severus Snape is the teacher of advanced potions, as well as regular potions. Although you were in advanced potions, due to lack of students in this class, Dumbledore decided to put the five advanced student in the same class as regular potions and would have separate assignments than the rest of the class. However you are the only one that was put in the Friday morning class, but you still have a couple friends in the class. You love to make your friends feel uncomfortable, as well as Snape, by usually saying a innuendo that more often than not is based from Snape it the textbook. You take your usual seat by Pucey and greet him with a “What’s up loser?” while giving him your signature grin. “Not much troll face” he says laughing and getting his book out. Today you were going over an advanced love potion while the rest of class had to make a lower level love potion. Snape was doing his rounds, stopping and staring at each student’s cauldron to find something to criticize. When he reached your cauldron you gave Pucey a quick side glance as to say ‘watch this, dork’. “Fancy my love juice, Professor Snape?” you say emphasizing the word juice and having turned around quickly. He was clearly at a loss of words as he folded his one arm and used the other to pinch the bridge of his nose “This is called a love potion, y/l/n, and this specific one is a rather difficult one to make”. You have out a little laugh while putting in some ingredients into your cauldron, "Oh! I love a long, hard concoction!” saying the coc in concoction with emphasis, all while having a good straight face, looking at Snape. “Wouldn’t you agree Professor?” you ask innocently with a smile and mischievousness dancing in your eyes. “Focus on your potion, y/l/n. Pucey you git, don’t add any bit of what’s in your hand, unless you were going for an explosion!” Snape said changing the subject to Pucey. *later after classes* “Professor, do you have a moment?” you say to Snape that you happened to come across in the almost empty halls, a few people scattered along the big corridors. “Miss y/l/n, I suppose I do, should what you’d like to ask is within reason” “Oh, not one for the lengthy ones huh? Well I was just wondering if into your restricted section” you say taking a step closer to Snape with a little emphasis on the restricted section to, well, his restricted section. “I-I beg your pardon?!” Snape asks a little flustered. “Choked up? It’s bound to happen once or twice to everyone, but I need to get into your restricted section” you toy with him before switching to a innocent act “you know, the book section next to your desk, Professor?” You grin mischievously at Snape, this has been the best reaction you’ve gotten yet. “Oh course! Yes - books! Yes, Miss, uh, Miss y/l/n. But why do you need a book from this specific section, surely the library’s restricted section has a copy of its own” “How right you are Professor, however it seems that all copies of it are taken, so I thought you’d be able to help me” “Very well” Snape said wanting to leave and to not feel whatever he was feeling; he liked it and despised it all the same. “However I expect it back when you’re done the same way it was taken, and I must be notified when you take it and when you return it” “Thank you, Professor” you coo “Always know how to please a lady” you wink and quickly walked away before he could retaliate what you said. The thing you didn’t know was right after you left, Snape was just a bit dumbstruck among other things. Never has he had a student say such…such things to him like that before you! Any other student was at least a little afraid of him, if not deathly afraid. But part of him enjoys it, enjoys you, just like you enjoy him. *After dinner* After the evening meal you were walking in the halls with a couple friends when Snape walked, in his usual bitter mood, to your group “Y/L/N, come with me - and don’t speak a word until I say so”. Your friends look a bit taken aback with the suddenness and the fact that it’s Snape of all people. “Okay, lead the way” you say after you said a quick see you later to your friends. Snape lead you to through the corridors until you were in a empty classroom. He shut the door, while you hopped onto one of the desks, leaning back on one hand, waiting to be lectured. “Why do you keep acting the way you do?” “What’re you talking about?” you ask like you don’t know what he’s talking about. “You know very well what I’m talking about y/l/n, all the sexual jokes, innuendos, you know exactly what!” Snape says in his monotone teaching voice walking to be in front of you. “The only thing sexual here is the tension, Professor” you grin crossing your legs on purpose, and leaning forward. “You - How could - Why I just ought to…” Snape says crossing his arms. “Ought to what, Snape?” you say shifting the way you’re sitting on the desk, catching his eye. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, you should probably just do it” “Ten points from y/h, y/l/n, for…” “For what, Severus?” you dared using his first name, “I can always get it up, that wouldn’t be the hard bit of it” you said uncrossing your legs, just letting them dangle and swing a little. This was it, that’s all Snape could take, he’s had enough. He had to have you. He stepped forward and kissed you, putting one hand on the back of your head/neck and the other on your hip as you wrapped your legs around him. You didn’t exactly feel like him crushing your legs against the table either, so it was a win-win. “I hops you didn’t mind me Slytherin for a second” Snape says after a second of kissing. “Ten points to Slytherin” you grin before pulling him back in laying down on the desk and, well, what happens next is up to you.

Originally posted by kxjip

anonymous asked:

18, 198 and 211 with Draco, maybe?

Prompts: “Come over here and make me.”, “Is that a challenge?”,“It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong.” 

Just threw this together, it’s super late so I may regret posting this in the  morning lol.


Just Words


Crescent moons appeared in his palms when he thought of you. His teeth ground together, not for anything you had ever done to him, but simply because you existed. You seemed to have to know everything, you were always getting into some kind of fight with somebody over words. That’s all they were, right? Just words people threw around. They didn’t mean anything. Words were what you made of them, and frankly, he was sick of watching you get riled up about meaningless phrases. So the day he smacked Goyle on the back of the head and laughed and spat “you idiot mudblood” and you whirled on him, he had set his jaw for the occasion. He’d practiced what he’d say to you. However, when it was time for the words to come out, they wouldn’t.

“Tell me Malfoy,” malice was dripping from your lips as you called across the classroom. You were not afraid of embarrassing him, you were even less afraid of causing a scene. “Why is it that calling somebody what I am such a satisfyingly nasty insult for you to throw?”

“Tell me, Y/L/N, why do you have to make everything about you?”

“I’m serious, why is it that you think calling Goyle a muggleborn is an insult? What is so horrible about people like me? And why do you think it’s a good idea to call him that, as an insult, right in front of a class full of muggleborns?” You stood up, your professor was out of the room and the whole room went still.

“Oh please, don’t make me highlight the differences. It’ll be embarrassing for you,”

“And what, pray tell, is that difference? Your family? The one you have no control over which you are born? Including you, Malfoy, you had no control over being a pure-blood. You just were, it’s not like you did anything to earn this sanctity you think you have.”

He felt cornered, the words he’d rehearsed in his head had left him. “It’s just a word, Y/N, you’re completely overreacting, as usual”

“Just stop using it! It’s not an insult. Being me should not be an insult for you”

And what if it is?” He sneered, looking malicious.

“Just shut up, Malfoy. Your commentary isn’t as important as you think it is,” you growled.

“Well why don’t you come over and make me?” His hair was falling over his eyes, he was trying to manipulate you now. He just couldn’t be proven wrong, could he? His friends were making obnoxious reaction noises.

“Is that a challenge?” you sniggered. Hermione Granger grabbed your arm, “Just ignore him” she chided. You shook her grasp off and stepped toward him.

“For once, Granger makes a good suggestion. Mind your own business, Y/L/N” he said, stepping close to you. He could feel the electricity buzzing between your skin and his. It wasn’t a hate he was familiar with.

“This is my business,” you said, producing your wand as he did his.

“Do you enjoy making a fool of yourself like this? Is it a game for you? Because it’s quite amusing for all of us” his tone was as condescending as you had ever heard it.

“No, but it is a hobby of mine to prove you wrong,”

“Children, take your seats at once! Ten points from Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Wands away!” Professor McGonagal shouted and forced you away from each other as she swept through the room.

For the rest of class he sat there, stewing. He watched you. You had to be faking your satisfaction. There was no way you were so calm after that. So unbothered. He longed to get under your skin again. He loved to get a rise out of you. He sat there, marinating in his thoughts and embarrassment. He would not learn his lesson about those words that day. But he would learn it. You would be the one to teach him. But until that then, they were just words to him. He would continue to assume his own correctness, but you’d stay plastered to the walls of his mind until that day came.

Love Declaration on Quidditch Pitch

Pairing: Lee Jordan/Pansy Parkinson, Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood

for: @hprarepairnet and @slytherdornet‘s Be Mine challenge

word count: 935

warning: fluff and silliness

(FFN link) (AO3 link)

Minerva McGonagall was having a headache.

Marcus Flint was feeling murderous.

Oliver Wood, on the other hand, was kind of, well, flabbergasted.

The common causes for their headache and urge for murder and confusion were now sitting at the Quidditch commentator’s booth, sharing one megaphone and more than one kisses, occasionally advertising Potter’s Firebolt and more than occasionally complimenting on Oliver Wood’s ‘panther-like grace when saving a goal’ and ‘visible six-packs’. But worse of all, between the compliments every now and then one of them would toss in – “Do you reckon he’ll be willing to join a threesome with us?”

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