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Detention - Draco Malfoy

Draco x sister fem!reader

Warnings: Mention of Umbridge torture

Word count: 746

Summary: Umbridge doing the torture scar’s to Y/n Malfoy, and Draco’s pissed and tells their parnets.

Authors Note: Part 2? Where their parents got Draco’s owl and come to Hogwarts concerned and pissed? (& they find out why she got detention in the first place)

Harry Potter Masterlist

Masterlist

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“Where have you been?” Draco asked as Y/n finally came and sat at the Slytherin in the great hall.

“Umbridge gave me detention for the entire month.” Y/n scoffed annoyed at the way things had become. School was where she felt she could relax some, since Malfoy Manner wasn’t a place of relaxation. But with all the changes school was feeling a lot like home.

“Why?” Draco furrowed his brow concerned and concerned and confused for his sister.

“She said it was because I kept my desk’s to disoganized.” Y/n shrugged not to sure why she got detention in the first place.

“Thats bull.” Draco scowled, his sister was always so clean and kept. Draco didn’t believe it for a second. Besides why would someone get detention for that?

“I agree.” Y/n nodded.

“At least its just a month.” He concluded hoping to ease her nerves that Draco was sure she was feeling. Knowing their parents were to hear of this and not be thrilled.

“Yeah.” Y/n sighed, hoping that the letter going home about this detention would get lost.

It wasn’t home she should of been worrying about as she soon learned. Once she started her series of detentions Y/n Malfoy found out who the true monster in Hogwarts was.

Detention was terribly stressful and anxiety ridden. On top of that she had gotten a letter from home that wasn’t the nicest ither. But from the words written it didn’t sound like they were told ‘why’ she was having detentions, and y/n felt like if they knew ‘why’ then they wouldn’t be nearly as mad.

But Y/n was to afraid to write back. What if it made things worse, what if Umbridge intercepted her letter?! No way, she couldn’t risk it and make her punishments worse.

But it was becoming increasingly hard to hide her hand from her brother. Their twin bond didn’t help and she could tell Draco knew something was up. Y/n was worried if she told him that he might view her as weak.

All that came crashing down around her one day in the library. Draco came storming in and headed straight towards her and sat down. Determined to get answers.

“What's wrong Draco?” Y/n asked once he sat down having watched his dramatic entrance, and noticing her antsy behavior.

“Why’s your hand wrapped?” He asked. It had been bothering him for awhile, he was already concerned about his twin 24/7. But seeing her hurt was ripping him apart on the inside.

“I got hurt.” Y/n cast her gaze downward, nervously picking at a loose thread on her skirt.

“How? Let me see.” Draco jumps immediately into protective mode, very concerned.

“Draco-”

Y/n tried to stop him but he had already reached foreward and grabbed abhold of her hand. Pulling off the bandage wrap and exposing the carvings into her hand that would definitely scar.

“What’s this?” Draco questioned with wide eye’s looking between Y/n and her torn up hand. Seeing horrible, nasty, un-true words carved into her hand made Draco want to cry. And with looking into his sisters eye’s seeing all the emotions and tears in them broke his heart. “Y/n, where’d you get this? Who did this to you?”

Y/n knew there was no point in trying to lie to him now that he’s seen the evidence. “Umbridge, and at detention. It’s her version of it.”

“This is unethical and torture.” He growled in anger that someone dared to harm his sister.

“Trust me, I know.” Y/n pulled her hand back and wrapped it back up again, so it wouldn’t get infected but also so no one would see.

“How many times?” Draco asked even though he knows he doesn’t want to hear it’s been more than once, he knows it’s been more than 1 time.

“4. So far. But I still have the rest of the month.” She told him shakily, nervous about having to go through more of this torture.

“I’ll tell father and mother about this. She’s not going to touch you again.” Draco states pulling her into him to comfort her, noting her shakiness, which he’s very sure was going to lead to a panic attack.

That night after dinner Draco wrote a letter explaining the situation to their parents on paper, and sent it around midnight to assure no one would notice anywhere in the castle.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97

Little Witch Tom Riddle x Malfoy Reader

Hello readers! So, had an idea in the dead of night and wrote this chapter for this potential story and I need some feedback. Do you like it? Would you like to see more of this? Please tell me because I would love to write more of this, but I don't know if anyone would want to read something like this. Also, the title is not its official and final title. If you guys enjoy this idea, the title will be something completely different from Little Witch.

Hope you enjoy this random thing of mine.

The smell of moisture and mildew clouded my senses. I could feel the tendrils of the musty basement curl around my head, tightening their hold. The familiar throbbing ran down my head and face, causing me to wince and squeeze my eyes, trying to work through the pain. I’ve always hated coming down here. This underground layer underneath my home always made my spine shiver and made gooseflesh appear on my delicate skin. This place, full of death and sorrow from previous victims throughout the history of my family, haunted these walls. In the dead of night, I could hear their wails and shrieks of terror. I could hear their weeping and their cries for help. Hear their pleas to a higher power and bargain with their soul, trying to escape this prison. But their prayers and pleas went unanswered. Day in and day out, they were still here. Stuck. Tethered to these bloody walls.

Knowing that these souls occupied these walls and halls was one reason I avoided this place. But something was calling me. Whispering my name. Urging me to come down here, to explore. To search for it. I’d tried to ignore the call, the whisper, but each night it grew louder and louder. Finally, after a nightmare of snakes strangling me in my sleep, I allowed the voice to take control and call to me. I followed the voice, down the corridors, passing portraits, the sleeping quarters of the house-elves, all the way down the stairs that led here. Unlike the dungeons that were kept clean and lit, the basement, underneath the dungeons, was dark, dirty, and had a metallic smell. Here, I could feel the voice calling louder, urging me more quickly, practically pushing me forward, moving my stone-cold feet towards a chest. An ebony chest, decorated in silver and bore the Malfoy family crest. On the lip of the lid wrote a name: Abraxas M. Malfoy.

This was my grandfather’s chest. My recently deceased grandfather.

Now, this close to the chest, I could feel magic electrifying in the air, crackling with energy. The voice, now clearer and deeper, called out my name. I felt an invisible hand take my own and place it on the chest. Magic pulsed and cracked throughout the house, passing through my fingertips, travelling up my body, tingling my nervous system. Power gushed through my veins; an echo of spells in Latin, French, and German rang through my head. I felt a pull in my abdomen, as if something was trying to reach through my body and pull out my magical core; rending me magickless. I tried to fight it, combating it with my own power, using ancient spells and curses passed down through my family, trying to ward off the entity. However, my attempts became futile. Whatever this spirit—voice—was, it knew how to avoid and get past my family's magic, delving itself into the pits of my mind, reaching into the darkest parts, seeing memories I’d wish to avoid.

Memories of a man with red eyes and cold skin.

I felt my brain being torn in two when my throat convulsed. I screamed loudly. I felt a whoosh of power flow from me as I screamed. I felt the chilling laughter of a monster crawling up my skin, piercing my soft and supple flesh, drawing blood. Ruby drops coated the floor, soaking a carpet and dripping onto my feet.

The lid of the chest flew open, the lock breaking, and a sense of dread curled in the pit of my stomach. Still under the control of whatever this spirit was, I felt myself lean and bend, reaching my hand into the chest and grabbing a small black book. A name was etched into the leather cover, written in gold lettering. When my fingertips connected with the cover, I felt a pulse of dark magick flow through my fingers, numbing them.

I ran my index finger down the leather cover, tingling with power, as I traced the name. Names were power. Though some people disagreed, the old ways were proof of that sentiment. Names held power over someone. You knew their true name, the name their soul carried, you held power over them. And this name, I knew, even in my drunken and controlled state, that this name held power I couldn’t even imagine. That this name was dangerous. And if I uttered it, it would seal my fate.

“(Y/n)!!”

The voice of my father reached my ears, making me blink a few times, as my vision became blurred. I felt my body becoming numb and buckled under my weight.

“(Y/n)!!” Father’s arms wrapped around me and I felt my body become weightless. Light. As if I was a feather.

“Sweet girl, what happened? What’ve I told you about coming down here? It’s dangerous!”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t feel. All I could do was blink and stare at my father; his grey eyes trained on my figure as he assessed the situation and damage. His hair was tied back in a bow, keeping his strands of silver out of his eyes. He wasn’t wearing pyjamas. He was still in his clothes from earlier. His cloak, his three-piece suit, his dragon-hide wingback shoes.

He was still awake then; I mused.

“(Y/n), look at me, tell me what happened.”

I tried. I really did. But I couldn’t. I felt my body and mind slip in and out of consciousness. All I could do was grip the book tighter. He noticed. His grey eyes travelled to my hand, where I clutched the book for dear life. As if it was a part of my soul. A part of me.

A gasp left my father, his eyes widening as he took into the leather cover. His eyes flashed back and forth.

To me; to the book. To me; to the book.

Over and over and over. Until he finally gained the strength and re-established his mind.

“Come (Y/n),” Father picks me up in his arms. I feel the book drop from my hands. It slapped against the cold stone floors. It’s voice called out to me again. I wanted to hold it, clutch it close to my heart, weep over the pages. But I can do nothing about it. I was motionless. Paralyzed. My strength was all but gone. The fight for control and the will of my magick took its toll on me. I could no longer feel.

As father carried me away from the basement full of death, my vision was blurry and I could only hear distorted voices. It was as if I was hearing things on another frequency. As if I reached another plane of this universe. The only voice I could hear clearly was the whisper.

“Come to me,”

“Free me from this cage,”

“Come to me, (Y/n),”

“Come…”

The last thing I heard was a man whispering in another language, a language I knew and understood, yet I could not understand.

In the dark basement of Malfoy Manor, while house-elves and the Lady of the house took care of the heiress Malfoy, trying to break her fever and console her shaking and convulsing body—a man walked down the long spiral staircase leading down towards the damp basement. He held his wand in front of him; it was lit with the simple lumos spell, as he travelled down to the haunted walls.

His eyes were set in an icy determination, the same look he had about him when he was intending to see things done properly—his way. His brows were furrowed and his pointy chin was jutted out. The surrounding air crackled as his own magical core expanded, covering his person in protection spells.

For years, that blasted diary was quiet. It slept peacefully, only to be awakened when it was time for his master to see the light of day. It appears, when the cursed pages woke, it stirred something in his eldest child, his daughter. Called out to her, hypnotising her. She was its victim, wanting her to take the book and pour her soul into its cursed ink so that his Master might live again. His Dark Lord’s plan was planned out so very well, its cursed nature, its spiritus malus enchanted his daughter. While Lucius was angry and wanted to incendio the cursed book to nothing more than a pile of ash —- it was his master's orders to answer the call, and Lucius was a devoted servant of his Lord.

He walked down the long corridor, towards the chest. Lucius bent down and picked up the book, feeling its magick course through his veins. He suppressed a shiver from running down his spine, and turned on the balls of his feet, clouding himself in shadow as he marched his way down the corridor, up the stairs, and into his private office.

Sitting the book on his mahogany desk, he took a seat in his leather winged-back chair and stared at it. He could hear the whispers of the curse, trying to seduce him, place him under the spell.

Lucius didn’t know what to do. He ran through his memories, looking for one of his Dark Lord. He shifted through his categorised mind, tearing down the walls and boarded up doors of his mind. He sorted and searched until he found it.

It was after his daughter’s first birthday. October 31st, 1976. She had just received her soul-mark—something the Malfoy family has always had; the magick of soulmates. It was also after the Dark Lord appointed him as his Second-in-Command. He remembered how thrilled he was, earning the approval of his Lord, and rising in the ranks of Death Eaters. It was a glorious moment for him and his family. Lucius remembered how, after the small gathering they had for his daughter, the Dark Lord stayed around, claiming to speak to him about an urgent matter at hand. But what he didn’t notice back then, in the present, of his Master’s eyes on his child’s soul-mark embedded in the skin of her right wrist. It was strange, Lucius remembered himself saying. A snake wrapping its body around the child's wrist, eating its tail. The mark was nothing like his own mark with Narcissa; a flower with a snake coiled around its stem. His mark was calm and held an aura of serenity. While hers was violent, untamed, out-of-control. There was no softness, only a cold exterior of a snake eating itself.

Lucius remembered when he was a child asking his own father about the nature of their soul-marks. As to why snakes were always included in their depiction of the other half of their soul. Abraxas didn’t know, but claimed there was a snake involved in the ritual to tether the souls of mates together, to show, to embed a mark on the skin, showing the world the superiority of Malfoy’s and their magic.

While many of the guests stared at her wrist with curiosity and fascination, his master’s eyes were full of something Lucius could not place. When Cygnus and Druella approached their granddaughter and daughter, they gave gifts and encouraging words to Narcissa. However, Cygnus looked at his granddaughter with disappointment, wishing his loyal and obedient daughter had given birth to a son first, rather than a daughter. When the man's cold eyes flickered to her little wrist, he reached out and touched it, tracing the mark. Something snapped in his master’s exterior, and the mask of calm and connectedness broke and a sliver of emotion passed through his facade. His red eyes flashed angrily, and his hands clenched into fists.

Before his Lord could make a scene, Lucius approached him, asking him about what matter he needed to speak of urgently. The two left the scene, walking down the long dark-lit corridors, passing sleeping and awake portraits. Lucius pushed the door open to his study, letting the light of the fireplace cast a glow to the porcelain man beside him. His grey eyes watched as the Dark Lord took a seat, pulling something out from his cloak. Lucius turned, closed and locked the door, and strode across the threshold to his master.

“Lucius,” his Master’s voice, was icy, filled with nothing but cold, bitter ice. “This is what I wished to discuss with you.” He placed a book on the mahogany desk occupying this room. Whispers filled the room. Lucius shivered as his magick core sensed the dark magic, the death, surrounding this book.

“What is it, my Lord?” he asked, the hairs on his neck standing up, attentive to the magic in this room. His Master smiled. His smile reminded him of a snake before striking.

“This, my friend, is my old school diary. It is now a cursed object.” He picked up the book, flipping the pages as he spoke. “It contains my younger self. Preserved in these pages.” The book screamed a silent scream.

“I want you to hide it. Once the book awakens, I want you to give it to someone. Magic or non-magic, I care not who it is. Give it to them, and they shall write in it, for the pull of this diary is too strong for anyone to resist. As they write, my younger self will suck their life-force; their core. And once my younger-self has done it, they shall be reborn again.”

Lucius stared in astonishment. “But my lord, you are already here. Alive.”

His Master smirked. “I have no doubts, Lucius, that I shall succeed. But if there is a slight chance. A slight possibility that the old fool beats me, well, then you will know what to do with it.”

Lucius watched as he ran a finger down the spine, watching the book itself shudder.

“This is only a precaution. I know I will have no need for it.”

Voldemort stood from his chair. His eyes, red as blood, gazed into Lucius’ grey orbs.

“Do you understand, Lucius?” he asked. Lucius knew that tone. He’d seen it in action when Death Eaters failed their mission or when he interrogated wizards, witches, and mudbloods.

“Yes, My Lord,”

A chilling smile spread across his face.

Lucius knew what to do. He sighed, laced his fingers together, and sat in deep thought. Thinking up a plan. A plan to resurrect his master's soul. He knew, deep in his soul, that if he was the one to resurrect his Master, he would be welcomed back joyously. His comrades would praise him, his master would thank him.

And if what his master said was true, this new form would be young. No one would know him. He could fit in the ranks of the Ministry, infiltrate it from the inside. Corrupt the Wizengomat. His Master would do wondrous things for the good of the Wizarding World. Purify the scum of their world, and lay waste to the blood traitors.

The glory days would return, and his youngest would live in a world full of wizards and witches like him.

Lucius smiled. Yes, it’ll all work out. All he needs to do is find a mind curious enough to write in the pages of a diary and who’s ignorant enough to believe that this book means no harm.

While this was happening, the young Malfoy Heiress thrashed in her sleep. House-elves tried to calm her, but she continued to convulse. In her fevered dreams, stood a man standing on a hilltop. His eyes were a deep shade of black, almost like he held the starless night sky in his orbs. His skin was pale, blemishless, and pure. Pure as snow. Hard as marble. His sharp nose, his full lips, his arched brows. Everything about him was beautiful. As if he was cut from marble, shaped by elegant and artistic hands. Details you’d seen in statues at muggle museums. His hair was onyx, tousled like he ran his long and articulate fingers through the strands regularly. He stood tall. His back was straight. He looked angelic. But there was something dark around him. Shadows surrounded him. Clouding his body in a dark mist. His face distorted, the skin on his jaw pulled back, revealing bone and rotten flesh. The hill was no longer a grassy hilltop, but a hill of bones; skulls. He stood on them, as if he was a King. His face was slacked in determination and his eyes were hard. He was the victor of a battle, of a war. He no longer held an angelic look, but a demonic aura, full of darkness and evil. Yet his face, though rotting and had parts revealing bone, was the only place on his body that still looked angelic.

It was hard to look at him; she thought. He’s beautiful, was another thought of hers. It was as if her own mind was being torn in two, her thoughts constantly contraindicated each other. She didn’t know why. Why was she still looking at this beautiful monster? Why didn’t she run? Why was he calling her over?

“Who are you?” She called out to him. The man smirked, exposing the right side of his mouth, rotting. She shivered.

“Who are you?” She called out again, her voice trembled. “Death?”

The man chuckled, his voice booming all around her. As if she was in an echo chamber. She felt his laugh in her skull, rattling her bones.

“Sometimes.” He answered, smirking at the young Heiress. “But not today… little witch,”

The next thing she knew was that she was ripped from her dream in a cold sweat. But what she would later learn is that she could not remember the dream, nor the man, only the words: “Little witch,”

Translations:

spiritus malus = evil spirit (I used google translate for this, sorrry if I'm wrong)

Discoveries

A/N: If ya’ll could leave comments letting me know how you like this, that would be great. Criticism welcome also! Enjoy reading and re-blog as you please. Don’t post my work on other sites without credit though... that's common sense. Or it should be... Enjoy!

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

~~~~~~~~~

Being raised in the Burrow while knowing you’re not one of them by blood made it difficult when you were younger, but as you grew up alongside Ronald it turned out to be quite easy to fit in. Despite looking nothing like your family, you were a Weasley. You are a Weasley. You told yourself that while looking in the mirror and brushing your white hair each morning. Your mom, Mrs. Weasley, she told you to let her cut it so you wouldn’t have to walk around with it constantly falling into your face. You of course denied each request, loving the ability to swing your hair at your brothers when they annoyed you. 

Waking up to your brothers scrambling downstairs alerted you to breakfast being ready. You sat up in a hurry and rolled out of bed, stumbling into Fred on your way out of your room. You squeaked as you slammed into his side, both of you laughing before you heard your mom yelling at Ronald to not hog the bacon. A gasp left you as you pushed Fred to the side, his footsteps following you as you stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen to smack Ron upside the head. After smacking him and grabbing the bacon you claimed your seat next to Percy. 

The rest of the family settled in and began to eat, everyone thanking Molly for the food while conversation began to fill the silence. You looked around the table at the abundance of orange hair before you realized that Pig wasn’t pecking at your hand for bacon. Confusion settled on your features as Arthur caught onto your expression.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You shook your head and took another bite of bacon, “Pig isn’t pecking my hand off for bacon. He’s normally always here with us.”

The rest of the Weasleys agreed and began creating theories for a few minutes. You sat finishing off your bacon when you heard the frantic flapping that always accompanied Pig. You glanced toward the window and panicked,

“Clear the table! It’s pig!”

Dishes clinked against each other as a space was cleared for his catastrophic landing. Pig head planted into the plate of scrambled eggs that wasn’t moved out of the way quick enough. Fred and George mocked the bird as Percy gathered the letters from him with many pecks to his hand. The letters were handed out to each Weasley, Ron and you gasping and ripping open your Hogwarts letters. You jump from your chair and scream little “yes”’s while the twins squish you between them in a Weasley bear hug. Ron does the same but when the twins turn to him, they speak in unison and give him rough head pats.

“Ickle Ronnie-kins got his Hogwarts letter~ He’s a big boy now!”

Molly gasps from her position at the sink, turning around to gather you and Ron into a hug.

“We must head to Diagon Alley immediately! We need to get the both of you a wand, and some supplies that we no longer have.”

Chatter spread around the room again as you were picked up by George who tossed you to Fred before the latter and former smothered you with advice on how to choose your friends. Most of it made you scoff because it mainly consisted of pulling pranks on people until you made a friend, there was no way you were doing that, you figured that wherever you got sorted you would make friends based on your common ideals.

Ron grabbing your hand to drag you upstairs pulled you from Fred’s arms and your thoughts. You stumbled after him while he chatted away about how he was going to be the best keeper and then join the Chuddley Canons while becoming the Gryffindor prefect in 7th year and winning the house cup for the Gryffindors. You stayed silent as he pulled you into your room, sitting you on your bed and taking up his spot behind you with your hairbrush.

“What about you? Do you think you’ll become prefect for Gryffindor as well?”

Sighing and shrugging you winced at a particularly hard tug to you head,

“I don’t know- Ouch Ronald! Be careful!”

“Sorry Y/N.”

“Anyways, I don’t know which house I’m going to be in-”

Ron cut you off, “Course ya do! Gryffindor like the rest of us!”

“We don’t know that Ron. I could be Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw... maybe even Slytherin! It’s impossible to know until the sorting ceremony. So.. let’s just drop house discussion.”

You felt the disappointment in Ron at your reaction to the houses but he got his pep back when you started on Quidditch,

“I don’t think I’ll try out... ever. I’ll leave that to you, Fred and George... ok? I want to stick to studying. I doubt there will be free time between classes.”

Ronald groaned and gave up on your hair, stomping out of the room with heavy steps until Molly yelled up for whoever was stomping to stop. Watching your brother go and finishing the task of brushing your hair, you focused on the floor. It wasn’t quite focusing though as your mind went blank thinking about what house you might end up in.

A few minutes later, after zoning back in, you heard crashes coming from the twins room and sighed. You were usually in that mess but after hearing Percy scream at them, you were glad you were in your own room. Molly called for the family to gather a little while after the screaming stopped from Percy. Footsteps bounded down the stairs as you were pulled by the arm to the stairs. Being used to the twins grabbing you and picking you up more than the rest of the Weasley family ever had, you sighed and clung onto George.

“Hurry up now Weasleys! We need to head out too Diagon Alley for some school supplies for your sister. Everyone gather around, remember to speak clearly now. Percy, you’re first, come on now,”

Molly patted him on the back as he stepped forward to the grate in the fireplace. You watched him grab a handful of floo powder and call out Diagon Alley. He was gone in the next second and the twins were already lined up with powder in their hands.

“Alright, Fred. You  next, dear.”

“Yes mum.”

Fred disappeared in green flames as Percy had, George followed, then Arthur went. Then Ronald, and it was finally your turn. You stepped up to Molly from the corner of the room where you were covering your eyes as the rest of the family went through. Your hand curled around the soft powder from the jar, Molly smiling at you encouragingly as you were rarely allowed to be out in public for fear of someone accusing your family of kidnapping...for whatever reason. A small smile crossed your lips while you closed your eyes and spoke as clearly as you could,

“DIAGON ALLEY”

The swoosh of green flames engulfed you as you felt a pull at your navel. You grunted when you landed on the grate of the Leaky Cauldron fire place. Stumbling and coughing, two hands grabbed you from the grate, the top of a twins head being the first thing you see when you open your eyes.

“Put me down! I want to walk!”

The twin holding you chuckled as you smacked his head while the other chimed in,

“No can do,”

The one holding you, Fred, you realized, did the normal twin thing and finished off the sentence.

“You’re too fragile to let out into the world Y/N~”

Molly stepped from the grate to hustle over and smack Fred on the shoulder.

“Let the girl walk. You know she rarely leaves the Burrow with us. Let her enjoy herself.”

Fred set you down and you jumped on the spot. Molly gathered you in a big Weasley hug to which you groaned. Once out of the hold, you ran up to the front of the group where Arthur stood chatting with Percy. They both glanced at you and Arthur sent you a smile but Percy immediately began the conversation again. You sighed and glanced around for Ron, finding him standing by the door.

“Mum! Can I go with Ron to Honey Dukes?! Please?”

Your body spins in a full circle until you’re facing Molly, her face lit up with that motherly smile.

“Fred, do go with your siblings. Make sure they don’t get into any trouble while they’re running around out there. We will be headed to Flourish and Blotts for a few books. Meet us in front of Olivanders in half an hour. Am I understood Weasleys?”

Affirmative responses chorused from the family. Percy and Arthur walked out of the shop together, George and Molly following to head out for the books. Fred smirked at you and Ron. That smirk was never good... not even when it was on your face and not one of the twins’. 

“Off we go little siblings. We’ll get your candy and then head Zonko’s joke shop. And we don’t tell mom about the joke shop. Got it?”

Ron nodded his head as you did yours. Ron grabbed your hand before Fred could say another word and pulled you away to the candy shop. Your eyes flicked around the alley in awe. It never failed to take your breath away, even if you had only been here a few times. The streets slowly cleared of people as you ran through them with your brother on your arm, screaming ‘sorry’s’ as you brushed by people. 

“Ronald slow down! We’ve passed Honey dukes!”

Ron just laughed you off and ran faster after hearing Fred yelling at the two of you to stop. You kept running, glancing back to watch Fred struggle to rush through the leaving crowds as the sky darkened. While glancing back at Fred, you ran straight into Ron’s back when he came to a stop.

“Ronald! You’re a brick wall! Why did you...”

You paused as you looked back to your brother but after you realized you were no longer alone with Ron, you froze up. The sneer that met your gaze alongside the blank face beside it made you tug on Rons arm subtlety. The head of white blonde hair meeting your gaze furrowed your eyebrows. As Fred slowed to a stop beside you, he realized the situation and began to nudge you behind him.

“Weasleys.”, the man sneered at your brothers, “Who in the good graces of Salazar let you out of the pig pen?”

You stood behind Fred with growing anger at the man. A small growl left you as insults began to spew from the man, accusations and names being called as your brothers stayed still. You stepped from behind Fred despite his nearly silent pleas for you to stay back. Pushing Ron behind you to Fred, you faced the man head on, staring up at him with a glower on your face. 

“How dare you? You have no right to just insult my family! You’re nothing but an old man desperate for attention because his wife doesn’t love him!”

The man stared at you with shock hidden behind a blank face. The woman beside him stared at you with this look in her eyes. You couldn’t place it exactly but you knew it wasn’t disgust.

“You insolent child. You have no idea who you are speaking too. Filthy blood traitors deserve no ability to speak to a pure blood. Get out of my sights and never show your dirty faces here again!”, he looked down at you for a split second during his rant before he was focused on your brothers once more, “The empty cells in Azkaban are screaming for 6 little pigs to fill them.”

You started shaking in your spot, a hand slowly rising to slap the man wherever you could reach. Before you could even get your hand above your waist, you were against Fred’s chest as him and Ron walked backwards slowly in the now light rain. A glare stayed on your face until Fred turned around to let you go, but that glare only stayed for a seconds as Ron had grabbed your hand and the running began once more. You heard Fred begin to run after you two while yelling for you to stop it already. Giggles left you as you reached Honey Dukes and slid inside. The shopkeeper greeted you with a smile while Fred walked in behind you panting from the run.

“You two rascals better hide tonight. I know where you sleep and so does Georgie~”

You tsked the twin as you gathered some sugar quills in a bag. Ron stood beside you filling a bag to the top with pumpkin pasties, murmuring about sharing some with you later if you got away from the twins. Fred stood chatting with the cashier as you and Ronald gathered another bag full of candy each, your second bag a mix of things for you and the twins to eat when they kidnapped you from your room tonight in retaliation to the running.

Fred payed for the candies and dragged you out of the shop by your hair... gently of course. Ron trudged behind with grumbles and sighs as you made your way to Flourish and Blotts to meet up the family. Seeing George and Molly talking at a bookshelf inside, you wiggled free from the grip on your hair and speed walked into the book shop, nearly bulldozing George in your attempts to hug Molly. His cry of outrage was silenced by Molly’s worrying but his mood changed quite quickly seeing his twin walk into the shop and they broke off to bother some second years they recognized from Hufflepuff or Slytherin. 

After gathering the rest of the books, Ron and the twins wandered away to the quidditch shop, which left you with your mom.

“Mum, can we go to Olivanders? I want to get my wand!”

Molly patted your head and led you along the stone path to the old shop. She opened the door for you, pushing you gently inside and out of the rain. You looked around at the dusty floors and wand boxes wondering why it was so dirty. Your thoughts changed when an old... almost ancient man slid out on a ladder from between the shelves.

“Ah Miss Weasley. I’ve been waiting for the day you would walk into my shop.”

You raised an eyebrow at the man in confusion, “I don’t understand, sir.”

He simply chuckled at you and beckoned you forward, Molly ushering you further in before she stepped out of the shop. 

“Come up here, child. I need to gather some wands for you to test out and then we can get started.”

You nodded at him but by the time you had, he was already down the row again and gathering a few boxes in his arms. You watched him curiously as he muttered to himself, sliding to the front and stepping from the ladder. 

“Ok, try these.”, he slid three wands in front of you, “Just give them each a gentle swish and the rest will be done by the wand.”

You picked up the first one, admiring the details on the handle. Flicking it gently as Olivander had said, but it went horribly as a bolt of light flew past the mans head. He simply ducked and plucked the wand from your hand, handing you the second one in apprehension, moving the third away from your reach. You swished the second wand and watched as a flower pot exploded. Cringing back from the shards and making eye contact with Olivander made you smile sheepishly.  Olivander sighed and watched you carefully for moment, gathering the wands together then sliding back between the shelves. He was gone for two minutes before you saw him carrying out two very dusty, ornate boxes. 

“Those are very pretty boxes, sir. But why do they look different from all the others?”

The man hummed at your curiosity and carefully opened the pure white box. You stood up on your tippy toes to try and see the wand. When you failed, you stood still and waited patiently for the wand to be handed to you. As it was handed to you, you gasped at the wand.

“What is it made of, sir?”

“This wand... it is one of the rarest to grace our presence in this shop. It has not been claimed in over 30 years. It would be a wonder for you to obtain this wand. You, Miss Weasley, would be the second person to obtain this wand core. We shall see. Now give it a flick.”

You stared at the wand in confusion as you slowly reached out for it. What about this wand was so special that only one other person had a wand of this type? A sigh left you, grasping the wand a little tighter before giving it a gentle flick. Witnessing no destruction confused you, but as you faced Olivander, you realized why. Charlie had told you about many things such as wand lore, mythical creatures, rarest potion ingredients and so on. 

“It’s... thestral hair.”

Olivander paused his packing away of the wand you had placed down. 

“You are correct, Miss Weasley. The only other wand with such a core is in the possession of Albus Dumbledore.”

You nodded slowly as he opened the other box, humming to himself once more while he pulled the dark wand from the box. This one, you had no idea what it was. So you stared at it in confusion while the old man in front of you chuckled with a cough following it.

“Let’s give it a try before I explain this wands properties to you, Miss Weasley.”

You agreed and grabbed the wand gently, but unlike the other wands, this one sent a tingle up your arm. It caused you to smile and so you gave it a flick. The broken vase repaired itself and the destruction was cleaned in that single swish. Olivander smiled at you proudly and rung up the wand, handing you the box, clear of dust.

“This wand, Miss Weasley, it is special. Just as you are. A beautiful poplar wood, picked from one of the oldest poplar trees out there still. The phoenix feather core is unique. Powerful. It will adapt to your magic and allow you to surge through it. It will never disappoint you, Miss Y/N. This wand will be your savior in many situations to come. Yes it will. Have a good day now, young lady.”

You stared at the wand in awe, nodding along to Olivanders speech, “Thank you, sir. I won’t let it... or you... down. I promise!”

You finished the sentence quickly having noticed the rest of your family standing outside the window, Arthur and the large blonde man from earlier seeming to have an argument. You uttered a quick goodbye, running out of the shop to your dad and tugging on his arm.

“Dad! Dad! Look I got my wand! It’s poplar and phoenix feather! Look at it, Dad. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Molly walked up to your side and guided you back into the family huddle, you showing off your wand from its place in the box. Everyone indulged you with ooo’s and ahhhh’s, but the big blonde man you yelled at was staring holes into your head. You felt the weight of his gaze and turned around in your dramatic showcase to Fred and George, meeting his cold grey eyes with your own. Feeling odd, you tilted your head at the man in confusion and made eye contact with his wife who immediately reached a dainty hand to the mans arm. They then made eye contact, sharing a silent conversation like you had seen the twins do on many, many occasions. 

Arthur cleared his throat and directed you all, minus Ron, to head to the Three Broomsticks and have some lunch before you all headed home. Everyone agreed with the idea of food and the twins carried you on their shoulders, pretending to drop you on multiple occasions. You laughed loudly, Percy muttering in annoyance behind you. This was the beginning, you thought, this is the start of my life as a witch. 

Discoveries Pt. 2

 A/N: This one is shorter because its really just a fluff filler before the main plot continues... enjoy?

Pt. 1 Pt. 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting down in The Three Broomsticks, you looked around at everyone chatting away with food swerving around tables, sitting in front of people and pieces flying out of over enthusiastic mouths. It made you smile when Molly tilted her head at you when she sat on the opposite side of the long table. Giving her a nod, Ron sucked you into conversation the second he sat down beside you. You both chattered over your new wands and the treats you bought. The Weasley table was calm for a few minutes but calm never lasted in the household, even in public. 

A shrill scream made you jump slightly in your chair, your head turning frantically to see what had happened. It didn’t take long to figure out that your mother had yelped because of a nose-biting teacup clamping her nose. You smothered giggles behind your hand, giving the twins a small thumbs up as they high-fived and Percy got up to remove the teacup. The angry muttering of Percy filled the brief silence before Molly’s voice run above it all.

“Fredrick and George Weasley! The garden gnomes are your issue now! As soon as we get back to the Burrow I expect you two out and working, am I understood?!”

“Yes mum.”

Ron laughed loudly at the twins’ demise while you watched Percy struggle with the nose-biting teacup. Arthur stood with a sigh, destroying the teacup and silencing the noise at the table. Everyone quieted down immediately with eyes on Papa Weasley. You watched with a smile as Arthur encouraged the twins with a joyful “good one boys!”. Molly gasped and smacked his arm but the whole family could see the smile on her face when she kissed Arthur on the cheek. Your dad stood for a little longer, talking about how proud of Ronald and you he was, how excited the whole family was to see which house you both ended up in. 

It didn’t take long for food to settle on the table, hands reaching, people groaning as their favourite was stolen from under their hands and cups clinking while they filled. The noise settled to casual conversation while everyone filled their stomachs, Ron complaining when you ate the last piece of chicken while he was watching. Fred threw mashed potatoes in your direction but managed to only hit Percy which caused an uproar of laughter and angry yells from the victim of the mashed potato attack. 

The mess was cleaned quickly enough by Molly who scolded Fred for throwing food in the first place. The chaos calmed not long after and the table was nearly silent as everyone fully focused on the rapidly cooling food. You kept light conversation with Ron while everyone slowly cleaned their plates, and empty plates were taken away.

“You are definitely a Gryffindor, Ron. You have nothing to worry about! It’s in your blood to be a Gryffindor. I asked mum how many in the family were Gryffindor and she told me that every generation, minus one on mums side, were all Gryffindor! If that’s not fate, I dunno what is.”

Ron sighed at you, shaking his head in exasperation, “But you don’t know how I’ll turn out. I could be a...a Hufflepuff!”

He shuddered at the thought and you laughed loud enough for Percy to send you a glare. You mouthed an apology towards him and turned back to Ron.

“I do know. Every single one of us-”

You cut yourself off when you noticed your family going pale. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Ron swallowing harshly. That was enough for you to turn your head and freeze. That same man and woman from outside Honeyduke’s and Olivanders greeted you, but with a plus one. A young boy your age was stood proudly in front of them, his cool grey eyes scanning the room as his parents did.

When his eyes met yours, his cocky expression dropped in confusion as your smile had earlier. The boys hand reached back to tap at his fathers, pointing subtly in question. You saw the man shake his head and dismiss the boy, stalking forwards into the pub to gracefully take up a table with a swish of white-blonde hair and black cloak. The woman met your eyes as well before she sat beside her husband just as gracefully while the boy just plopped in a chair. You broke eye contact with the family, shaking your head and making conversation with the twins and Ron while the table was cleared. 

A minute or so later, Arthur had paid and gathered the family around the floo. Fred went first, George went after, Percy rolled his eyes and flooed back to the Burrow next. You stumbled through the fireplace into the comfort of your home, running directly into George as he had positioned himself as a Y/N guard. You huffed at him but muttered a thank you, standing to the side to brush off your clothes. You looked up to watch Ron stumble and fall to the floor in front of the floo, Molly coming through and tsking before she whisked away the twins to give them brooms for the gnomes. Arthur came through last, locking down the floo so no one could come through after them and guided you to the living room.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

“Nothing dear. Nothing. I just wanted to ask you how you felt about going to Hogwarts.”

“I mean...”, you paused with a thoughtful hum, ”I’m a bit scared of not being a Gryffindor and disappointing you and mum.. but other than that, I’m excited!”

Your dad nodded with a smile, grabbing your hand gently and patting it, “You will never disappoint us just because of a house. Just go through the sorting ceremony and be proud of your family away from home, ok? We love you very much, Y/N.”

“I love you too, dad.”

You smiled back at him and jumped up from the couch, skipping outside to watch the twins deal with the laughing gnomes. Molly walked back inside when she saw you exit the house, your head being patted on her way. You huffed at the mess it made your hair, continuing on to sit by Ron on a blanket a safe distance from the panicking Fred and George. 

“You have to do better George!”

“You do better, Fred! AHHH IT BIT ME!”

Ron dissolved into laughter when George got a gnome stuck to his hand, you following suit when the gnome let out muffled giggles from his place. Watching the gnome swing around, your head went in circles to follow the motions George was making. You got dizzy pretty quickly and gave up, watching with your head mostly stationary. Ron was rolling on the blanket laughing his ass off, his face turning red and tears running from his eyes. You laughed beside him, Fred doing nothing to help his brother until George threatened him with something you couldn’t hear over your other brothers laughs. 

The chaos continued until Molly yelled out that dinner was ready. Everyone scrambled to make it inside first so they could wash their hands faster and then grab the food they wanted even faster. That plan failed everyone but you and Ron, who had first picks because you had received your very first Hogwarts letters. Your plate filled with the food you wanted and could eat without issue, you sat back and slowly munched on your green beans, watching the communal plates empty within seconds after Ron finished piling his plate. 

Conversation started across the table, Fred and George annoying Percy as much as they could. Molly talked with Ronald about his broom which had broken the other day and you talked with Arthur about life at Hogwarts. It was chatty, it always was. But it was home. All you could wonder was if Hogwarts would feel like home too. You supposed you would find out though, so you relaxed fully and listened to Hogwarts stories' be passed around the table. 

Discoveries Pt. 3 ♥

A/N: Yes yes its been a little while but I've been busy okay? and i’ve been fired so emotional things. thank you all for the support so far and i hope this makes up for the wait. 

Pt. 1    Pt. 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stretching in your bed the next morning, you let out a large yawn as you adjusted to fall asleep again. Turning over in bed, you weren’t expecting the face of Fred to be right next you. You let out a startled scream as he laughed you, your eyes rolling as your shoulders shook with laughter. 

“What are you doing, Fred? It’s like 5am.”

“7am. You slept in missy~”

Groaning and flipping to face the other side of the room, your hair swung dramatically with you and into Georges face, who was crouched on the opposite side of your bed, expecting the trouble of waking you up. You screamed again and sat up with a huff, the twins high-fiving over your head. 

“Will you two just let me sleep for another hour at least?”

“No can do. You see-”, George started.

“We need to be at Diagon Alley by 8:30.”, Fred finished. 

You ran a hand through your knotted hair, partly in confusion and mostly in frustration. When it clicked in your head that you had to get some school robes adjusted, you panicked and half jumped, half fell out of bed. The twins backed your frantic movements with laughter as they walked down to the kitchen, the chatter of impatient and hungry Weasleys filled your ears. 

“Why do we have to wait for Y/N to eat?! It’s her fault for sleeping too long!”, Rons muffled voice fell into your conscious and made you speed up your hair and teeth brushing. 

Rushing down the stairs, you stumbled directly into Bill who caught you with a sigh.

“Clumsy as always, Y/N.”

You let out an almost ashamed laugh, your arms squeezing around Bill as he wheezed. Arthur walked in behind the both of you and ushered you into your seats as Molly set down the plate of bacon. 

“Finally!”, Ron muttered as he grabbed the plate of bacon seconds after it hit the table, his plate piling with food.

Food was passed around between the family, conversation filling the air as you ate silently. Your silent bubble was disrupted when Ron dragged you into an argument between himself and Percy. 

“It’s not my fault you have a bloody stick up your ass!” 

“I am a prefect, Ronald, which is something that will actually get me into the Ministry!”

Ron shot you a look of ‘oh dear god not this again’ and you laughed. 

“Percy, you do realize not being a prefect can get you into the Ministry. You just need good grades and the right classes.”

Percy snapped his glare to you, knowing you were right, and sighed. He had always had a sort of soft spot for you, knowing you weren’t actually a Weasley. Which was a dumb reason to not hate someone but you went along with it so not absolutely every child in the house had an argument with him every other day.

“I suppose you aren’t wrong, Y/N. I just have a better chance this way.”

He turned his nose up at you and you laughed, finishing off your plate just as the rest of the family had. The plates were cleared from the table as everyone dispersed to do their own thing. 

“Y/N dear, we must be going if we don’t want to be late. Come now, to the fireplace.”

You brushed yourself off and followed Molly to the fireplace, your hand wrapping around another handful of soft powder. Your eyes glanced up to your mum as she nodded reassuringly. You still weren’t used to it yet and you had a feeling it would take a little while to feel normal and not like you were being vacuum sealed into a plastic bin. With a sigh you threw down the powder and clearly stated “Diagon Alley”, and then you were gone in a swirl of green smoke.

Stumbling from the grate in The Three Broomsticks, you ran headfirst into a solid mass. Panicked, you looked around to make sure you were where you were supposed to be and slowly glanced at whoever you bumped into. Your wide eyes met narrowed ones surrounded by the same white blonde hair from the other day. You took a subconscious step back from the man just as Molly came through the floo, her hands finding your arms as she stumbled lightly into you.

“Mr. Malfoy. If you’d excuse us.”, Her eyes narrowed back at the man as he looked between the two of you, “Come on, dear, off we go now.”

She led you away with gentle hands, your head turning to look back at the man as you swerved through tables. Your eyes met one last time before Molly was tugging you past the door with a firm but gentle hold on your hand. As you met the bustling roads of Diagon Alley, you squinted your eyes at the sun, a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth as you stared at the ground, trying to avoid any ray of sun you could. Leaping between shadows to the fitting, you panted as Molly gently pulled you to a stop in front of Madam Malkins. You sighed and Molly chuckled lightly, her hand taking yours and guiding you in. 

“It’ll only take a minute. Don’t worry dear.”

~~~~~~~~~

“A minute my butt!”,  you exclaimed as you stumbled out of the fireplace in the Burrow, Fred sweeping you off your feet immediately and up to your room where a trunk lay on your bed.

“What is this? Why is my trunk out? What did you do?”

You rounded on Fred and George as soon as you were placed onto the floor, their faces innocent as could be as they watched you with crossed arms and very small smirks of entertainment. 

“You need to pack for Hogwarts!”

“We all have. Our trunks are-”

“-Waiting by the front door.”

“Only two are missing~”

You sighed and stared into the empty space, your eyes tracing loose threads along the seam as you nodded. 

“Okay, I’ll go bother Ronald after I’m done.”

“That's what we like to hear!”, the twins chorused as they walked from your room to raid the kitchen, if Mollys loud reprimanding was anything to go by.

The packing only took you a few minutes, most of your school things were in a separate drawer as it was so all you had to do was move them into the trunk. You finished your packing with relative ease and an overactive mind, the zipper closing breaking the silence you had been working in. WIth a sigh, you pulled your trunk to the top of the stairs before making your way to ROnalds room to aid him in his no-doubt messy packing. Your suspicions were confirmed when you pushed open the door to encounter the entirety of Rons wardrobe scattered around the room. 

“Ron, how? There is no way you had to destroy your room to pack.”

HIs frantic eyes met yours as he scoffed, “Well no, but it felt necessary at the time.”

You hummed and cleared a few spots across the room, handing things to Ron you knew he would want with him. His eyes followed you around when he wasn't haphazardly throwing things into his trunk.

“At least fold things!”, you stomped over to his trunk and folded piece by piece as Ronald sat and watched you with a blank expression until you reached his Chudley Cannon jersey. Then he reacted and grabbed it from your hands with a gasp, his own carefully folding it in a mess. You shrugged and packed it neatly with the rest of his things, the heavier items resting on top of his clothes as the lighter things went on those. 

“There. All done.”, you heaved a sigh as you closed the lid of the trunk, the click of the lock creating a satisfying noise in the otherwise silent room. 

“Thank you, Y/N~”, Ron grabbed you for an overly tight hug, your hands pushing at his arms as you wheezed for a single breath of air that wasn’t from Ron’s vicinity.

“Ok ok ok! I get it, just get it downstairs with the rest of them!”

Ronald let you go after a moment, his frame moving out the door with his trunk in hand as you followed after him.

“You made it sound like you brought yours down! But nooo look at what’s right here!”, Ron huffed and lightly kicked your trunk as he passed it.

“I said the rest of them! Never included mine!”, you shouted after him as you grabbed your own trunk and carried it down the stairs to see Bill and Charlie in front of the floo.

Molly gave the two a big hug with large containers of sweets being shoved into their hands after Arthur gave them a hug as well, Percy nodding a farewell from the couch as he read through the Ministry’s handbook for rules and regulations. 

“Nooooo~!”, you whined, “You can’t leave yet! You like... just got here! We didn’t get to talk about Hogwarts!”

The eldest Weasley boys chuckled and pulled you into their arms for a group hug, tears filling your eyes as they pet your hair lovingly. 

“You know we have jobs to get too, Y/N. We can’t stay to see you off.”

You huffed at them and lightly punched their chests as they smiled at you. A small nod moved your hair into your eyes as you grasped them tighter. While you weren’t as close to them as you were the twins, they had still helped raise you in a sense and that created a connection, plus you were their little sister. Blood or not, that created an even greater connection. Still not one large enough to rival that of yours with Fred and George but it was enough.

“Fine. Just send owls, okay? I wanna tell you everything!”

The boys nodded and placed kisses on the top of your white hair, their eyes slightly glossy as yours overflowed with tears.

“We will.”

“Absolutely we will.”, Charlie finished as he guided you to Molly’s embrace, Bill giving a last wave and goodbye to the family as he stepped through the floo with a call of his destination. 

Charlie gave a similar exit with a blown kiss towards yourself and your mom as he called out for the Ministry of Magic for Romania, however he pronounced it. Their departure set the family in motion as Arthur ushered everyone into the kitchen to go over the basic checklist of the things you would need for your time at Hogwarts. Most of the list was checked off smoothly, Ron mumbling under his breath that it was unnecessary until your dad reached an item he had forgotten and cursed. That got him a small ass-whooping from Molly as she urged him to go get what he had been missing. Fred and George mocked him as he ran up the stairs, your quiet giggles backing them until your parents shushed you all and continued with the list as Ronald slipped down the stairs to his trunk and frantically packed his wand. The list went smoothly after that, everyone having followed the list to pack, well... you had. The trunks were smooshed in the back of the Ford Anglia with a small extension charm, a suspicious popping noise coming from one of the twins trunks, a huff of air and confetti falling into the trunk as they stood rubbing the backs of their necks sheepishly. 

You were all set to head out for Hogwarts, all that was left was getting onto the platform and finding a seat. Easy enough, you told yourself as Fred and George popped confetti onto Arthur as he walked away, their lanky frames sprinting away from a charmed broom as it chased them across the lawn. Easy enough... right?