um harry

  • Blaise: So you and pansy haven't been going out for a while now
  • Draco: Yeah, she's a bit too annoying and clingy
  • Blaise: Oh right
  • Draco: And I wanted a girlfriend who had black hair, not brown hair.
  • Blaise:
  • Draco: And I want her to have green eyes. And to wear glasses, coz they look cute, you know. Also I would prefer for her to be in Gryffindor.
  • Blaise: *facepalms

Pedido: Faz um do Harry q eles são divorciados e ela está namorando um cara mais nov(ela 30 e ele 23) e o cara é bem safado, fica pegando nela o tempo todo e o Harry fica morrendo de ciúmes, eles podem ter uma filha - Anônimo

Obrigada por ter feito o pedido.❤

***

Imagine Harry Styles:

S/n e eu nos divorciamos a cerca de um ano, tecnicamente foi uma separação normal, sem brigas e nem nada. S/n que quis se separar, pelo fato de eu ser um completo idiota, e ter um passado merda onde eu só fiz besteira com ela, e eu me arrependo muito disso. Mas não dá mais para voltar atrás.

-Papai?! -Darcy pulou em meu colo.

-Sim, querida? -Perguntei ajeitando seus cachos.

-Vamos para a casa da mamãe? -Sugeriu sorridente.

-Eu não sei Darcy… -Cocei a nuca mas não pude deixar de notar os olhos verde esmeralda da garotinha brilharem.

-Por favoor papa! -Ela implorou e eu cedi. Não iria aguentar muito tempo àquele mini eu versão feminina me encarando com olhinhos pidões.

-Tudo bem, tudo bem! Então vai calçar suas botas que nós vamos lá. -Falei e vi a menina correr saltitando em busca de suas botinhas.

-Só espero que o Sr.bonitão não esteja lá. -Resmunguei comigo mesmo respirando fundo antes de pegar as chaves do carro. Darcy voltou correndo já com os sapatos.

-Vamos? -Perguntei e a mesma assentiu esticando seu bracinho para que eu pegasse em sua mão e assim fiz.

[…]

Chegando na casa de S/n, Darcy tocou a campainha e logo S/n apareceu e pegou a garota no colo.

-Olá Harry. -S/n sorriu simpática e de bom humor. Eu me odeio tanto por ter deixado ela ir.

-Oi S/n. Como está? -Sorri igualmente e antes que ela respondesse, um cara alto e com alguns músculos apareceu na porta a abraçando por trás. Ele não deveria ter mais que vinte e três anos.

-Hey cara! -Ele fez sinal com a cabeça para me cumprimentar e eu apenas dei um sorriso falso em sua direção.

-Você vem buscar ela ou prefere que eu a leve? -S/n perguntou.

-Eu venho buscar. Não venho muito tarde.

-Sua mulher não pode ficar sozinha em casa? -S/n perguntou com sarcasmo.

-Não tenho mulher. -Revirei os olhos com seu joguinho idiota. Parecíamos dois adolescentes naquele instante.

-Tudo bem então. Tchau. -Falou antes de levar Darcy para dentro e beijar o idiota na minha frente.

[…]

Assim que voltei para buscar Darcy, S/n pediu que eu entrasse e ficasse alguns minutinhos pois Darcy estava tomando banho.

-Quer algo? Chá, água, café…? -S/n ofereceu.

-Um copo de água, por favor. -Respondi e vi a mulher ir para a cozinha.

Romeo, ao qual eu descobri ser o nome do homem que minha ex mulher está namorando, se sentou ao meu lado e tentou puxar assunto.

-Gosta de ver futebol? -Perguntou colocando em algum jogo na TV.

-Não muito. Sabe…acho que estou ficando velho para ver jogos, hoje em dia eu prefiro os desenhos animados que minha filha assiste do que jogos de futebol. -Comentei e o vi rir.

-Espero que não seja estranho para você estar ao lado do atual da sua ex, eu não costumo ser ciumento e nem manter uma rivalidade com os ex’s da minha namorada. -Ele comentou de repente e foi minha vez de rir.

-Isso com certeza não é estranho! Mas não é por isso que eu vou entrar em conflito com você cara. Relaxa. -Falei e vi S/n voltar da cozinha com meu copo.

-Aqui está. Sobre o que estavam conversando? - Me entregou o copo e se sentou no colo do rapaz.

-Sobre futebol. -Respondi calmamente e ela assentiu parecendo estar desconfiada mas ignorando completamente e aproximando o rosto de Romeo, para o beijar. Ew. Isso parecia bem menos desconfortável em filmes. Nunca pensei que veria aquela boca colada em outra. Tentei fingir que estava prestando atenção no jogo mas a situação começou a ficar realmente desconfortável, pois os dois começaram a se pegar pra valer ali do meu lado. E eu só queria sair dali o mais rápido possível.

[…]

Passado torturantes quinze minutos, Darcy desceu às escadas vestida com uma roupa diferente da que ela estava quando a trouxe.

-Vamos? -Perguntei vendo a garotinha assentir e se despedir da mãe que havia parado de se agarrar antes que ela voltasse.

-Tchau querida, mamãe vai te buscar esse final de semana. -S/n falou dando um beijo em sua bochecha.

-Tchau tio Ro! -Darcy falou acenando para o rapaz que retribuiu.

Assim que entramos no carro, Darcy notou que havia esquecido sua boneca, e eu pedi para que a mesma esperasse no carro enquanto eu voltava para buscar a mesma.

Assim que abri a porta da casa de S/n, encontrei os dois se agarrando novamente na sala, quase se comendo. Tentei fingir que aquilo era super normal e peguei a boneca que estava no sofá, tendo como última visão, o cara pegando na bunda da minha ex mulher. Sorte que não deixei Darcy vir, seria demais para olhinhos dela. Sai o mais rápido possível.

***

Espero que tenha gostado.😙

lily and james, a few months ago: being a parent will be soooo easy lol

lily and james now:

a part of a birthday gift for @wingedcorgi , happy birth!! ❤️

Lucky 💫

“Um, Malfoy,” Harry muttered. “What are you doing?” Baffled, he looked at the Slytherin, who didn’t seem to be concerned at all.

“I’m resting. I’m so tired,” Malfoy mumbled, eyelids fluttering shut. He did sound pretty sleepy. Harry blinked as Malfoy’s lips stretched into a soft, contented smile.

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “But why are you resting on my lap?”

“Why not?” Malfoy replied. “Seems like a good place to me.”

Harry stiffened as Malfoy turned his head and snuggled into him. What was he playing at?

“Oi, Harry!” Harry looked up. Seamus had just entered the eighth year common room and was grinning at him. “Don’t you two look cosy,” he said with a wink. Harry blushed and tried to move his legs but Malfoy was just too heavy.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Harry murmured. What had gotten into Malfoy?

“And then we have to get started on Transfiguration but first we have to- Oh!” Hermione stopped dead behind Seamus. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her, her studying schedule obviously forgotten. If only momentarily. Ron, who had seemed rather displeased with his girlfriend’s evening plans a second ago, suddenly had a weird glint in his eyes.

Harry watched his friends and was shocked when Hermione clutched her chest and put her other hand on Ron’s arm. He smiled at her and nodded.

“I thought something like this might happen,” he snickered.

“What?” Harry spluttered. When Pansy came into sight, a knowing grin on her face,  Harry felt like they were all in on a joke he didn’t get. “Can somebody please tell me what is going on?”

“Shhhhh,” came from Harry’s lap. “Trying to sleep here, remember?”

Harry eyed Malfoy suspiciously. He had to admit, he might have reacted a little differently if they had been alone. It was a bit sudden, but he wasn’t all that opposed to Malfoy lying on his lap.

Harry’s eyes darted to his friends again when Hermione leaned over to Pansy and whispered something to her. Looking exasperated, Pansy nodded. Harry still wasn’t used to the fact that they were all getting along so well now. Pansy could be fun but, still, Harry was a bit wary around her.

He kept his eyes on her as Hermione strode over to him.

“Don’t be mad,” she told him. Harry frowned.

“What did you do?”

“Well…” She looked at him sheepishly. “It’s more what I didn’t do.”

Harry looked at her, puzzled. She leaned closer to him and dropped her voice to a whisper.

“I didn’t stop Pansy, when she stole something from Slughorn’s personal stores and put it into Malfoy’s tea this morning.”

Harry’s frown deepened.

“What did she put in his tea?”

Hermione bit her lip and put a hand on his shoulder.

“We just felt like he deserved a good day for once. He’s been through so much.” She gazed at Malfoy thoughtfully. “That’s not to say you haven’t been having a hard time, either,” she added hastily. “But Pansy thought you might… benefit from it as well. Seems like she was right.”

Harry looked between Malfoy and Hermione, not understanding what she was telling him. It must have shown on his face. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

“Felix Felicis, that’s what Pansy put in his drink.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open.

“That’s why he’s being so weird?”

“You were weird, too, when you took it in sixth year,” Hermione reminded him.

Yeah, Harry mused, it had been a strange experience. He had felt so happy and cheerful, like nothing could go wrong. And, somehow, he had known exactly what he had to do to get… to get what he wanted.

Oh!

Harry’s eyes darted back to Malfoy, who was still smiling contentedly with his eyes closed. Harry wondered what would have happened if his friends had given him the potion, instead of Malfoy. He doubted things would have been this forward but, maybe, it would have had a similar outcome.  

Ignoring the fact that everyone in the room was watching him, he slowly raised his hand and ran his fingers through Malfoy’s hair. The Slytherin let out a long sigh that made the corners of Harry’s mouth twitch.

As he sat there, stroking Malfoy’s hair and marvelling at the fluttery feeling in his stomach, Harry thought it was lucky he and Malfoy apparently wanted the same thing.

me: harry, is it raining?

harry: um i think…in my opinion…it’s important to remember…you know…that people have different…interpretations about the weather, in my personal opinion. um…i’m never gonna tell anybody…you know…that their opinion about the weather is…wrong. maybe, one person might say it’s raining…or…that, you know, it’s not. i mean- like i said…everyone has their opinion and….i personally think that’s amazing. 

me: nvm, i’m gonna go check myself 

the half blood prince
  • Hermione: so um... harry isn't the whole malfoy thing a bit too much? You're practically obsessed with him
  • Harry: what? oh sorry i wasn't listening i was watching draco on the marauders map he should be entering the great hall any secon- oh fuck there he is okay guys try to act naturally, ron could you move a little bit to the left you're blocking my view

anonymous asked:

hey would you ever do a "what if harry potter had been a girl" story? or a trans girl? i don't know how much gender would change things except other people's perceptions but...

Hermione went to the library, when Harry first confided in her. Whatever the faculty, the administration, or the Ministry believed or didn’t believe, the Hogwarts library gave the children what they needed and always would.

Hermione came back with books and books on gender in wizarding history, on the spells and words wizards had used for centuries or decades or mere years, and she and Harry bent their heads together and figured out what words Harry felt best told her story. From her hometown library, after that first summer, Hermione brought back memoirs and brightly-colored pamphlets that Harry read through instead of finishing her Potions homework.

When Harry looked in the Mirror of Erised, she still saw her mother, her father, all her gathered, lost kin. The specter of her father gathered up her hands in his. Her mother pushed back the long dark hair Petunia had always made her cut short and she called her beautiful.

When she looked into it again, after Devil’s Snare and winged keys, giant chess and Ron lying prone on the floor, Hermione wringing her eleven year old hands in the potion riddle room– When Harry looked into the Mirror again, she saw herself, just herself. The girl in the mirror winked and smiled and slipped the Stone in Harry’s pocket. No matter what other wishes and want laid on her narrow shoulders, at the end of the day the thing Harry wanted most was to help. Harry brushed one hand over the lump of rock in her robe pocket, and then brushed her other over her mess of hair, which was feet shorter than the girl in the mirror’s.

She woke up in the hospital wing, bedside table piled high with candy.

Once Harry and Hermione had sussed out between them what the words were for what was going on here, they had explained it to Ron. Harry didn’t come out to anyone else until partway through second year, though, at the height of the Heir of Slytherin nonsense.

She was fed up, then. She just wanted to be left alone, and this wouldn’t help with that, but they were all already staring. Keeping this to herself felt like a vice around her chest. Hogwarts was supposed to be better.

After, Ron came almost to blows with anyone who goggled or sniffed or rolled their eyes. Seamas learned to swallow his tongue. Draco Malfoy didn’t. Hermione wrote up an explanatory note about appropriate pronouns in her best penmanship and then copied it with flicks of her wand. With Harry’s embarrassed permission, she gave it to every professor Harry had or would ever have.

Colin Creevey stopped her in the Great Hall with a tug on her sleeve. She turned, shoulders rising, and the kid said in his piping voice, “You’re still my hero.”

That was better than it could have been, but she wasn’t sure she liked the “still.”

Peeves, though he was nasty about everything else–ickle firsties and orphan girls–got it immediately. For all six years of her Hogwarts tenure, he dropped water balloons on the heads of anyone who misgendered her. Professor Binns never quite figured it out, but he didn’t know any student’s name. Nearly Headless Nick gallantly and somewhat awkwardly called her lady and tried to hold open doors for her, despite the fact that he couldn’t open them.

Snape called Harry “Mr. Potter” for all seven years that he was in Harry’s life. Around year three, Ron stopped counting the detentions he got for his increasingly sarcastic responses to this.

The whispers about the Heir of Slytherin grew louder and louder, keeping pace with “Uh, I thought it was the Boy Who Lived?” Fred and George Weasley took it upon themselves to walk Harry to and from class when they could, talking loudly enough to drown everything out.

Then Hermione got Petrified and the Heir whispers stopped abruptly. Harry, if she hadn’t been busy with Ron trading off reading their assigned textbooks aloud to Hermione in the infirmary, might have felt gratified that the whole school knew how much this bushy-haired kid meant to her. Alright, so they thought she might murder Muggleborns with a mysterious monster, or sic a snake on her opponent in a dueling club? But they knew she wouldn’t hurt Hermione for anything.

In the Chamber, she met Tom Riddle. He was supposed to be her mirror, though she didn’t quite know that yet. He was supposed to be her shadow, the chain around her ankle, the other half (or another eighth) of her story and his soul.

Ginny had been trying to speak for months– to tell someone, to open the diary and the bag under her bed full of chicken-blood-stained robes and to thrust them into the light. But Percy had shushed her, all his assumptions orbiting his own importance to her story. The teachers had patted her on the head. She had been frightened, eleven years old with Tom whispering in her ear, guiding her hands.

Harry had been trying to speak for years– to explain to someone the way she did not feel like Dudley, like Vernon, like the boys in the locker room at school. Hermione had listened. Hermione had given her books and books of people who felt like her. Ron had listened, and taught her wizard’s chess, and kicked Draco in the shins.

But here Harry was, standing alone– a red-haired lump at her feet, dark robes sodden with moldy water. Hermione was frozen. Ron was trapped behind a rock fall and Tom was pacing, gloating, glowing. Ginny was breathing. Ginny had to be breathing. Harry was going to save her. She had to, because no one had listened to the kid, not even Harry.

The phoenix tears left no scars on Harry’s arm. Riddle, the Chamber, the life going out of her, everything that had happened in that long year– none of it left scars on Ginny, or at least none that anyone could see.

When Harry got back to 4 Privet Drive that summer, she suffered through Aunt Petunia’s annual hair cut and then she curled up with Hedwig and wrote a letter. She wrote about the Muggle candies she missed when at Hogwarts, and how her cousin thought she was weird for being excited about summer homework. She asked Ginny how she was.

Ginny wrote back after a long week. She didn’t answer the question, but she wrote about helping Dad on the car, about the apple harvest coming, and Fred and George playing pranks on the ghoul in the attic.

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