Multi-fandom Oneshots

Slut And The Falcon {James Potter}

You walked down the halls of Hogwarts, not looking up from your homework as you were too busy doodling along the edges. You had just left the library and decided this homework could wait another day or so. Perhaps then you'll actually understand it.

You blamed James Potter for your distractions in Transfiguration. He was constantly flirting with you and keeping your eyes on him rather than the actual lesson.

You can't help but smile, doodling his name on the parchment. You knew James liked you. He had admitted such on multiple occasions. He had asked you out but you couldn't help but think he was just teasing. So you never really answered. And he never really gave up.

He would play with your hair, whisper in your ear, kiss your cheek, place his hand over yours that held onto your quill. He would give you answers, he would tease you, make random jokes, cast little spells to make other students fumble. You adored the attention. You adored him.

You were so caught up in your thoughts, you didn't look where you were walking. You cry out as your shoulder suddenly jerks back. Your things fall, scattering across the floor. You stumble forward, hearing someone else grunt. You make sure to catch your footing before you turn around, now on the other side of your fallen items as you look up.

Your face pales. Two Slytherin boys were scowling at you, a dark expression on their faces. Malfoy and Rosier.

"How dare you bump into me?" Malfoy spits out harshly. Rosier steps forward, joining him in what will surely be a great time for all of you.

"What makes you think you can walk through this corridor? You don't deserve to be in any vicinity of us, you don't deserve to share the same air," he grits out, looking and talking as if you've personally offended him. He steps closer to you, stopping at the edge of your fallen school supplies. Your eyes worryingly look at the parchment. If they saw that... your eyes dart up as a pile of spit lands on your school books. "The only air you deserve to breathe is dirty, filthy, disgusting air." Your eyes widen. "To match your dirty, filthy, disgusting blood," he says as a smooth smirk forms across his mouth.

You let in a shuddering breath. Your arms cross over your stomach, your eyes darting between Rosier and Malfoy, the latter smiling maliciously. You feel sick as you can tell how much he's enjoying this. Malfoy steps up to his friend, holding a piece of his robe away from him. He suddenly grimaces.

"I'll have to burn this robe now, Rosier. Can't have the stench of a mudblood on it," he says, his lips curled up in distaste. Tears started to well up in your eyes. You should've been used to this by now. But you weren't. Who would be? The Slytherins rarely bothered you but when they did... It was brutal. Rosier scoffed.

"Well that won't do. Having an infected robe." He looks over at you, causing you to shrink back a bit. "Don't you think the little mudblood should pay for a new one? She is the one who ruined it after all," Rosier mentioned, making your throat go dry. You eyed their robes. You definitely couldn't afford the quality of their robes. Your family was decently well off but nowhere near theirs. They had old money.

Panic seized your chest as Malfoy crouched down. He placed the sleeve that you bumped over his hands and began lightly moving around your items on the floor. You wanted to shout at them. Push them back. Make them stop. Possibly hex them. But you couldn't. You felt frozen. You just wanted to leave.

"I don't think she can afford it," he said with a sneer. You sniffed, trying to wipe away the misty look in your eye. Rosier merely chuckled as he looked down at his friend. Neither were looking at you but you knew if you tried to run they would throw spells at you left and right until your throat closed and you were hanging upside down and left to have all the blood rush to your head. Rosier crouched down as well, balancing in order to kick around a few of your things. Your stomach churned. You had to stop this.