99 Results in the "Harry Potter" fandom
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Story
Off the Books
Business. Fraud. Chemistry. Harry and Fleur’s professional partnership reaches a boiling point during a fraught mission in Berlin, where unraveling a conspiracy means confronting an inconvenient and undeniable attraction.-
3.4 K • Oct 17, '25
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6.3 K • Nov 16, '25
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Friday, 28 November The owls came in low over the Gryffindor table, close enough that Harry ducked when a barn owl banked hard to avoid the candelabra and dropped a copy of the Prophet into Ron's porridge. Milk splashed up the front of Ron's jumper and Ron swore and grabbed the newspaper before it soaked through, shaking oats off the front page. "Cheers for that," Ron muttered, wiping it on his sleeve. He flipped it over, then turned it back, frowning. "Hang on." Harry reached for the jam.…-
227.3 K • Ongoing
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The stairs in the Gryffindor tower creaked faintly under Harry’s weight as he made his way down, lost in thought. That was, until he saw her.. Romilda Vane, bouncing down the steps ahead of him like she didn’t have a care in the world. Or like she knew he was watching. And yeah, he was watching. Romilda’s yoga pants were doing the absolute most, clinging to her in a way that seemed almost magical though Harry doubted Professor Flitwick would approve of such spellwork. Her hips had this hypnotic…-
33.8 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
Recognition
The Biergarten wasn’t much to look at. Wooden benches worn smooth from decades of asses planted on them, the kind of place where factory workers came after shift to drink cheap beer and complain about their supervisors. Harry spotted a table shoved into the back corner, away from the handful of other patrons, and made a beeline for it. His blood was still up. The fraudulent customs document burned a hole in his jacket pocket, and all he could see was Klaus Vogel’s smug fucking face. He dropped into…-
9.8 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
Chapter 3: A Veela’s Hunger
The morning sunlight bathed the cozy kitchen of Shell Cottage in a warm glow. Fleur Delacour Weasley moved gracefully between the stove and the small wooden table. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the rich aroma of sizzling eggs and buttered toast. She hummed softly under her breath, her movements fluid and elegant even in the simplicity of her routine.Bill sat at the table, his face partially obscured by the Daily Prophet. His hair, once wild and rakish, was now neatly tied back, with faint…-
25.8 K • Completed
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