!!HAPPY ENDING!!
Meet - (𝐘/𝐧) 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬, an ordinary young woman who unexpectedly finds herself transported into the fantastical realm of Harry Potter as the fraternal twin sister of Ron Weasley.
With no knowledge of how the story will unfol...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"If that's the case, then yes, you're bad and weird, and you should be imprisoned for life with no chance of parole."
A/n : Unedited, please do comment and vote
-----
THIRD PERSON
(Y/n) awoke early the next morning, cocooned in a sleeping bag on the drawing room floor. A sliver of sky peeked through the heavy curtains: a cool, clear blue, like watered ink, poised between night and dawn. The house was silent, save for the slow, deep breaths of Ron and Hermione.
Ron, in a fit of gallantry, had insisted Hermione sleep on the sofa cushions, her silhouette gently elevated above his. Her arm draped towards the floor, her fingers just inches from Ron's. (Y/n) wondered if they had fallen asleep holding hands.
The thought made her feel oddly lonely. Harry was with them, she was beside him, yet due to the uncontrollable circumstances and him being the chosen one—the protagonist of this story—his presence, despite its proximity, felt distant, as if an invisible wall was growing between them.
She knew such thoughts were inappropriate and irrelevant given their perilous situation—where every day, every second, could be their last, especially for Harry. Never had she imagined she would find herself here, aiding the protagonist in his quest to vanquish Voldemort and his legion of fanatics.
Yet, despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
(Y/n) glanced over at Harry's spot and saw that he was gone. Her heart skipped a beat. Where had he gone? His sleeping bag lay empty.
She sat up, scanning the room frantically. He wouldn't just disappear on them, would he? He wasn't the type... She hastily stood.
He was exactly the type to make some reckless move and call it heroic, she thought, a pang of worry tightening her chest.
Her first thought was that Harry might be in Sirius' old room. She decided to check, lighting her wand to navigate the dark. (Y/n) climbed the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the silent house, until she reached the topmost landing where there were only two doors. The one facing her bore a nameplate reading SIRIUS. She had never entered Sirius' bedroom before, despite their many conversations. Now, she hesitated, the memories flooding back.
