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gameofdrarry · 4 years ago

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Wizards Hearts Smut Recs: Magic Sex Toys

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here. Players could opt in to an additional suit of 13 cards, all themed around various popular smut tropes.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Beautifully Unbound by breath_of_mine (tsundanire) Rated: Explicit Words: 54933 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Blaise Zabini/Narcissa Malfoy, BDSM, Praise Kink, Dom/sub, Subspace, Safewords, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Blindfolds, Impact Play, Spanking, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mental Health Issues, Therapy, Consensual Kink, Light Bondage, Angst, Holidays, Young Teddy Lupin, Mystery, Auror Harry Potter, Accidental Bonding, Bonding, H/D Erised 2018, Community: hd_erised, POV Alternating, Telepathic Bond, Gay Male Character, Bisexual Male Character, Dom Draco Malfoy, Sub Harry Potter, Bearded Harry Potter, Dirty Talk, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Gloves, Massage, Sex Toys, Mistletoe, Family Dinners, Misunderstandings, Past Relationship(s) Summary: Auror Potter is sent on a mission to clear out deadly artifacts from a Death Eater Safehouse with Draco Malfoy. What could possibly go wrong? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Wishes by PalenDrome (nerdherderette) Rated: Explicit Words: 10161 Tags: Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Godparents, Wish Fulfillment, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Butt Plugs, Sex Toys, Implied Switching, Light Angst, Humor, Fluff and Crack, Confessions, Auror Harry Potter, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Be Careful What You Wish For, Thirsty Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: Draco meets his fairy godmother and is granted three wishes. Unfortunately, they all keep coming back to the same thing. [excerpt]: Pop! "Oh, wow," Vince says, and is that sarcasm Draco hears? "I never saw that coming." "What?" Draco opens his eyes. He's prepared for the theatrics of the puffs of smoke—Vince, despite the sudden career change, was never blessed with an overactive imagination—but what he was not prepared for was the sight of Harry Potter, bare-chested and dressed in arseless chaps, his hands bound and mouth wrapped around a ball gag while lying face down on Draco's sofa. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by eidheann, firethesound Rated: Explicit Words: 36638 Tags: Apparition, Dick JokesAurors, St Mungo's Hospital, Acronyms, Sex Toys, Crude political statements, Inappropriate use of office equipment, Inappropriate use of shoe boxes, Inappropriate use of hats, Misuse of national anthems, Obscene floral arrangements, Seamus's sticking charms, Dicks, cocks, Penises, Willies, Pricks, Phalluses, Comedically large numbers of unattached dicks Summary: After transferring to the Apparition Department, Harry's life becomes one big dick joke. And all his friends are arseholes. So is Malfoy, but what else is new? AKA Harry Potter and the eighteen twenty dicks. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 in advance by M0stlyVoid Rated: Explicit Words: 3563 Tags: Wax Play, Kink Exploration, Safe Sane and Consensual, Gags, Bondage, Blow Jobs, Kink Negotiation, Dom/sub, Dom Harry Potter, Sub Draco Malfoy, Shibari Summary: Draco's been scared of fire since the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry likes wax play. This is how they work together to face Draco's fear and get what they both want. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Have yourself a kinky little Christmas by keyflight790, tsundanire Rated: Explicit Words: 21433 Tags: Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, Secret Admirer, Secret Santa, 12 Days of Christmas, Consensual Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be AddedSex Toys, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom Harry Potter, Light Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Praise Kink, semi-public wanking, Aural Kink, Dirty Talk, Awkward Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Draco Malfoy, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Work In Progress, Angst, Mental Health Issues, Switching, Cock sleeve, instructions, Dealing with mental health, Tattoos, writing on dicks, praise!kink, non con, brief non con display of nudity, Mutual Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Loud Sex, Unaware Pansy Parkinson, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Public Sex, Public Nudity, Public Rimming, Sex on Ministry Time, Inappropriate Use of Ministry Time, slacking on the job, These two are so inappropriate, The Writers are having too much fun, This whole thing is NSFW, Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, conversations about consent, Clearly expressed Consent, Potions, Lust Potions, Overstimulation, Orgasm Delay, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Public Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Consensual Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Writing with your BFF, This is what happens, Harry Deserves a Magical Ending, Draco Deserves Happiness, Dom/sub, This Fic made my life, and cleared my skin, writing this fic made me the happiest, and did my laundry, Art, Digital Art, mzuul Summary: As the holidays loom, Harry feels the weight of everything and everyone he'd lost. Working as an Auror, while exciting hadn't filled him with the same kind of satisfaction he'd assumed it would. It takes one extremely kinky secret admirer to pull out a side of him he'd been pushing away since his youth, and actually make him want to come into work everyday. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Asking For A Friend? by RoonilWazlibMalfoy Rated: Explicit Words: 13734 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Daily Prophet, Drag Queen Draco Malfoy, Gay Harry Potter, Size Queen Harry Potter, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Epistolary, Fluff and Smut, Sex Shop, Sex Toys, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Nipple Clamps, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Felching, Discussions of Fisting, Gay Bar, Sex Advice Columnist Draco Malfoy, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: Asking for a friend? Don't be shy! I'm Genna Russ with advice! Draco Malfoy, drag queen and agony aunt for the Daily Prophet, is very happy with his life. He loves his job. He loves his drag queen persona. And he loves the fact that the wider Wizarding world doesn't know who is offering them sassy advice with their morning news. When he starts receiving letters from one Harry Potter – letters that are too racy to publish – he does the only thing he can do: he replies. His carefully constructed secret life is at risk of being blown wide open, but he just can't help himself. Draco never did have any self-control where the Prat Who Lived was concerned. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Ligabus Filium by Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley) Rated: Explicit Words: 41534 Tags: Post-Deathly Hallows, HP: EWE, BDSM, Top Harry Potter, Dom Harry Potter, Bottom Draco, Sub Draco Malfoy, Virgin Draco Malfoy, Whipping, Riding Crops, Gags, Dildos, Creative use of Time Turners, Creative use of Howlers, Creative use of Amortentia, Listen it's the running theme of the story ok, it's filthy bdsm smut what do you want Summary: It should be careful, deliberate, but it isn't. Like every other part of their relationship, it happens gradually and then all at once, before they even realize it. And when the little blue threads bind them together, there's no going back. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Obsessions Release by katie_delaney Rated: Explicit Words: 27783 Tags: Deepthroating, Dom Draco Malfoy, Top Draco Malfoy, Dancing, Breathplay, BDSM, First Time Summary: Harry is convinced Draco has given him a love potion, on confronting him he is forced to face an inconvenient truth about himself. Will be very smutty/moderate bdsm, tame in first chapter. Warnings for breathplay. Set during the Half Blood Prince through to the end of the Deathly Hallows. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 in the flesh by M0stlyVoid Rated: Explicit Words: 1462 Tags: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Roommates, Sex Toys, Loud Sex, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, idiots to lovers, Denial of Feelings Summary: Draco really should have knocked. He's really glad he didn't. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 You Make it Hurt So Good by bangyababy Rated: Explicit Words: 1938 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Anal Fingering, Sex Toys, Magical Sex Toys, Punishment, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, Dom Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Potter, Safe Sane and Consensual, a bit of fluff at the end Summary: “Harry,” he said, a clear warning. “What are you going to do about it, Daddy?” Draco is in a bad mood. Harry knows just how to draw him out. ❤️ Read on AO3

#drarry #drarry recs #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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goblinmatriarch · 4 years ago

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Prompt: "Sweethearts"

For HD candy hearts fest

Harry doesn’t understand why Draco Malfoy always seems to be in the office kitchen. He doesn’t even work in this office, just comes in for consults; surely he could bring tea from his own office kitchen on his own floor of the Ministry.

Better yet, he could stay over in the R&D offices and consult from a distance.

Harry is currently hunkered over his sad sausage butty, reading case notes that are faintly greasy from his fingerprints and stewing over Malfoy’s constant movement and chattering. He’s talking cheerfully to one of the junior aurors – Mia or maybe Mila? – about her plans for the weekend as his hands dart into cupboards for tea and mugs, laughing as he pauses in his search to gesture emphatically with a mug in one hand and a tea strainer in the other, stretching his lean body out to grab the milk from the fridge.

How is a person to focus with all this bustle and distraction?

‘’...so I told him, ‘sweetheart, you wouldn’t know what to do with it even if you had it’,’’ Malfoy finishes, switching the kettle on for emphasis, then leaning back against the counter and looking smug.

‘’Draco, you didn’t ,’’ possibly-Miri? exclaims.

Malfoy chuckles. It’s rich and throaty and horrible. ‘’Someone had to do it, Misha.’’

Harry stands up abruptly, his chair scraping back loudly. Malfoy and Misha both turn to look at him.

He stares at them crossly for a moment, then grouchily says, ‘’I need to focus.’’ He begins gathering up his things. ‘’I suppose I’ll eat in my office, unless you’re planning to take your discussion of your various,’’ he makes a face, ‘’ sweethearts somewhere else?’’ He pauses, an armful of case notes, half-eaten butty, and a juice. ‘’No? Alright, then. Enjoy.’’

Harry storms off, fully aware he’s made an arse of himself but too annoyed to care. It’s one thing when it’s other aurors having a laugh in the kitchen – he can ignore them or join in, and it’s all good fun. But Draco sodding Malfoy?

He tosses his notes onto his desk and takes another bite out of his butty as he sits down. At least it’s quiet in here, with everyone who sits near him out to lunch.

He flips open the case folder again and is immediately distracted by a whirl of robes and a rap of knuckles on his desk. He recognises the hand, of course, and if he didn’t, there are the designer robes and the faint scent of Malfoy’s cologne to clue him in. Harry doesn’t look up. ‘’Can I help you?’’ he asks as snidely as possible.

‘’I’m not sure,’’ Malfoy replies thoughtfully, ‘’but I think I can help you.’’

Harry does look up at that, mainly to ensure Malfoy gets the full benefit of his sceptical expression.

‘’Help you be less of an odious twat, that is,’’ Malfoy adds, examining his nails ostentatiously.

Harry clenches his fist in frustration. It’s the fist holding the remnants of his sausage butty. Grease oozes over his knuckles. ‘’I am trying to work,’’ he grits out.

‘’Bullshit,’’ Malfoy fires back. ‘’You were sitting in the break room , Potter. The break room ,’’ he keeps pronouncing ‘break room’ like Harry’s five and learning a new word, ‘’is for breaks . People talk in there. People socialise in there.’’ He pauses and surveys Harry for a moment. ‘’You just don’t like me being in there.’’

Harry looks back down at his desk. ‘’Well, you don’t work here!’’ he says defensively.

‘’Neither does Marcia Hucklewaith, but you were in there with her last week, laughing about her bad date. But I say one word to someone else – someone else , Potter, not even you – and you jump down my throat.’’

Harry squints up at Malfoy. ‘’You were here when Marcia was? Christ, you really are always hanging around here, aren’t you.’’

Malfoy straightens up, draws his robes around himself. A faint flush rises on his cheeks, and he isn’t quite making eye contact as he says, ‘’That’s not the point, Potter. I consult on this floor. I have every right to be here, in that kitchen, in the Ministry–’’

‘’Talking about your sweethearts while I’m trying to do WORK, Malfoy!’’ Harry is shouting a bit now, half-rising out of his chair, and for some reason, that seems to take the wind out of Malfoy’s sails.

‘’My…sweethearts?’’ Malfoy asks, looking genuinely baffled. ‘’Do you mean–’’ He pauses, and his expression shifts to something more calculating.

‘’Potter,’’ he asks silkily, ‘’how many days a week would you say you eat in the office kitchen?’’

‘’Why?’’ Harry asks warily.

‘’Oh, humour me.’’

‘’Uhhh, I dunno, not too often? Usually I get a gyro or something and eat it at the kebab place, or if we’re really slammed, someone gets lunch and we all eat at our desks.’’

Malfoy nods, a faint smile playing on his lips.

‘’And I assume you, like any magical adult worth their wand, keep a mug and some tea bags at your desk, to make tea with a few spells?’’

Harry nods slowly, eyes narrowed. ‘’What’s this about?’’

Malfoy smirks. It’s not a nasty smirk, though; it’s almost…conspiratorial. ‘’Do you know, Potter, I believe we’ve been misunderstanding each other.’’

Harry is starting to get a bit nervous. Malfoy looks far too sleek and satisfied for this to pan out well for Harry.

‘’That’s…nice? But listen, I, er– I really have to get back to work.’’ Harry gestures helplessly at the increasingly crumpled and smudged case file before him.

‘’Of course you do,’’ Malfoy says warmly, still with that assured, self-satisfied air. ‘’And I have consulting to do. Over on my own floor, of course, although I’m sure I’ll be back here soon enough.’’

He turns with a wink and a twirl of his robes. ‘’See you around...sweetheart.’’

-> next prompt (blanket fort)

#drarry fanfic #drarry #oblivious harry #hdcandyheartsfest2022

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damn-stark · 4 years ago

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A new friend & A new problem

Chapter 9 of Different Light

A/N- I hope you all like this chapter :)

Warning- only slight angst, Slowburn

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“So your parents are fighting?” Fred wandered once George had separated from the both of you.

You sigh and stop in your steps so he could catch up beside you. “Yeah, just a bit, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

Fred nods while he puts his hands in his pockets, looking to the floor before glancing at you. “Really? Because, well Harry seemed to know a lot about it.”

Damn.

What could you say to ease the situation? “I’m sorry Fred, but Harry is just easier to talk to.”?

No, that would make this matter worse. Even if it was true.

You continue to walk towards your common room, and Fred follows by your side, waiting for your response that you delayed a bit, just truly tensifying the situation even more. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you,” you begin slowly, “it’s just I didn’t think you’d really care.”

“Not care?” Fred scoffs, “I’m your boyfriend, of course I’d care, plus I understand having parents argue,”

You sigh and begin to gently rub your wrists, avoiding his gaze and looking to your approaching common room door. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”

“Yeah,” Fred nods slowly, “well you know you could tell me anything right?”

You stop just a few feet away from the door and turn to face him, leaning your back on the wall and watching him stop just inches before you. You nod in agreement to his comment and add a small smile. “I know.”

Fred smirks and looks down to your lips, taking another step towards you and grabbing your hand that was at your side and slowly sliding his hand all the way to your cheek, “how was your summer by the way?”

You shrug and sigh in an exaggerated manner, “boring. How about yours?”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Fred replied cheekily.

“Oh?” You quirk your brow.

“Well you know with George and I starting our business, making our boxes and other stuff to sell here.” He lied unbeknownst to you.

You add a feigned smile and grab his free hand that remained at his side. “Well I will say that I missed you.”

“Is that so?”

“Definitely.”

Fred’s gaze drops again and this time he leans in to crash his lips on yours, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss just a bit before parting away and offering a cockier smile. “I missed you too, darling.” Fred steps back and his cocky smile turns mischievous. “By the way I do hope you could help George and I sell our Skiving Snackboxes.” He proceeds to take out a small pile of yellow fliers and pulls your hands out so he could drop them on your hands. “Just put these around school, yeah?”

You scoff and chuckle, looking to the flyers and then Fred, noticing he was being serious. “You’re serious,” you calm down and grow serious, “Fred, you know next year is my last year, I’m very busy this year studying for exams and trying my best to get the best scores.”

Fred finds some humor in your comment where you hadn’t and he doesn’t seem to grasp that you weren’t joking. “You got NEWTS last year, you’re in Snape's NEWT class and just about every class that you wanted. You’ll be fine.”

You furrow your eyebrows and take a step towards your common room. “Fred? You’re not being serious are you? Being an Auror takes a lot of work.��

“And yet you don’t have to please your parents all the time, Malfoy.”

You frown deeper and tilt your head slightly, “impress my parents? Fred I’m doing this for me. Just like George and you are doing that joke shop for yourselves. Yeah my parents may require me to do a good job at school, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m just doing what I want and what will make me proud.”

Fred frowns and nods, “I’m sorry.”

You sigh and keep backing to your common room. “I’ll hang the flyers, and try and help George and you when I can though, okay?”

Fred puts his hands back in his pockets and nods slowly, “okay,” he turns around and doesn’t say a simple goodbye, or goodnight, he just turns and begins to walk off before stopping to add one last thing. “By the way, get ready, this new professor is going to provide a lot of fun this year. That’s a promise, darling.”

A half smile tugs on your lips whilst you nod in slight agreement, “right. A lot of fun.”

——

“Your previous instruction on this subject has been disturbingly uneven, but you’d be pleased to know from now on you’ll be following a carefully ministry approved course of defensive magic.” The annoying pink lady explains in a squeaky voice that hid the fact that this all sounded monotone, like if she has rehearsed saying this hundreds of times. Her weird, creepy smile seemed that way too.

Regardless you look down to the yellow book down in front of you, and you part your lips and blink in disbelief at how childish this book looked. When you skimmed through the pages it got even worse, there was nothing on new spells, or spells at all actually. All there was on the book was paragraphs upon paragraphs about stuff you didn’t even want to bother reading.

Curiosity was getting the best of you and just as you planned to ask what was going on, a hand beside you flew up. Professor Umbridge plastered on a bigger feigned smile and pointed to the girl next to you.

You shift in your seat to look to your side at said girl, seeing her stand up and hearing her clear her throat before speaking in a soft, soothing and elegant voice. “Ma'am there isn’t anything on defensive spells here, it’s all….just a whole bunch of mess.”

Professor Umbridge giggled and it made you cringe, she walked up to your table and looked to the girl beside you. “Well that’s because we won’t be learning spells, there's no need for them.”

You scoff, “no need for them? I would think that learning spells would be our highest priority since you know who is back.”

Professor Umbridge snapped her head to you and her gaze turned icy as she glared at you. “The next time there's a question please raise your hand like miss?” she turns and points to the girl beside you and her smile turns more genuine.

“Clementine Zabini.” The girl you knew as Clementine answered sweetly, sitting back down as the pink lady turned around and walked back to the front of the class. “I’ll tell you,” Clementine continued in a loud enough whisper so you’d be able to hear her, “If Monday was a person, this old hag would definitely be it.”

You blink in disbelief and look at her just the same, noticing her red lips lift to a smirk. “And here I thought today was Friday.”

You scoff lightheartedly and glance back to the front of the class to pretend to be listening to the professor as she went on. “Yeah well as my boyfriend says, she’s a complete destroyer of fun.”

Clementine snorts and nods, “yeah I can agree. What do you think of her.”

“Well,” you shrug, “let’s see, beside frigenteing, I think she’s a bore and well a complete fake pink lady that seems to be up to something.”

Clementine nods and puts her book to pretend to be reading as she examines the professor. “What could it be?”

You shrug and prop your elbows on your shared desk, glancing at the girl next to you and noticing her robes match yours; the same green color, same snake on the side of her cloak. How come you hadn’t seen her before? Or really noticed her? She had the same surname as one of Draco’s only good friends, Blaise Zabini. And she was obviously in your same year—perhaps it was because last year, you only really focused on the twins as your sole companions and didn’t care for much else even if Hogwarts was a hundred times better than your previous school. Maybe with this new year, you being secluded to only a couple friends could change. Plus she seemed to have the same vibe the twins gave. That could be fun.

“I’m y/n Malfoy,” you introduce yourself kindly.

Clementine meets your gaze and offers you a kind smile, “you already know my name so I won’t even bother, but I will have to ask, your brother is friends with mine, right?”

You nod, “yes.”

“Hmm, well how poetic is that?” She continued as she neatly clasped her hands together and rested them on the table. “Our brothers are friends, and now we are.”

“Ladies in the back, I do hope you can write up here on the board what rules I’ve just said.”

Clementine and you turn your attention to the pink lady and you both offer a feigned innocent look, you shake your head and speak up first. “We can,” you both stand to do as she said and Professor Umbridge just watched the both of you with a narrowed gaze as you make your way to the front of the class. However neither of you actually knew what she had said.

Knowing that, you both look at one another from the corner of your eyes and then glance at the board, picking up chalk and lifting your hands to start writing. Before either of you could try to write down whatever rubbish you could think she’d say, you inch towards Clementine and bump her shoulder with yours, earning her discreet attention to then whisper a spell on the both of you without a need for a wand that would write what was instructed. Your gazes slid back to the board and you pretend to write, smiling proudly once you were done and saw Professor Umbridges taken back expression.

“I do hope it’s right,” you tell the pink lady once you’re back on your seat, trying to suppress your threatening smile.

The professor looks to the board and her eyes scan the rules of what appeared to be hundreds of times before looking back at you and nodding slowly. “It...is.”

“Good,” Clementine interjected smugly, smirking wider as the pink lady just returned to her teaching. “That was nice, y/n. Saved both of our arses over there.”

You shrug nonchalantly and prop your clasped hands on the desk. “Thank you.”

“Look,” Clementine pointed out, tapping on a spot on the desk beside her elbow, “I drew the horror on her face just now when she saw that she was wrong.”

Your gaze lowers and you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing out loud at the carved out drawing, and the name scribbled at the side of the drawing that said; “pink silly old witch.”

“You know,” you attempt to warn her, cutting off by her reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I put a spell on it, she won’t see it, just us and the other students who sit here.” She winks at you and in that moment you knew that she was going to be a great friend.

——

“I’ll catch up with you later, Clementine!” You wave as you start walking back towards Harry.

“Dinner?!” She shouted out and you nodded before spinning around and running to fall by Harry’s side.

“Hello, Harry.”

Said boy jumps slightly and looks up at you with a slightly frightened gaze.

Your lips twitch and you quickly apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No,” Harry lied, “you didn’t.”

You narrow your gaze on him, but let it go. “Okay if you say so.”

“New friend?”

You look over your shoulder to where Clementine was before for a second before turning back to Harry and nodding. “I hope so. I think it’s about time I had a friend in my own year. Albeit I don’t think professor Umbridge likes us that much.”

“I don’t think she likes anything at all,” Harry remarks bitterly.

You glance at him and can’t help but smile at how angry he looked at just the mere talk about the professor. “You should’ve seen her face when we proved her wrong today,” you snicker, “looked like she was going to get an attack of some kind.”

The corner of Harry’s lips tug into a small smile that doesn’t disappear as he changes the subject. “How are your classes going so far?”

You breathe out deeply and feign exhaustion. “It’s going to be tough this year. The easiest class surprisingly with Umbridge’s stupid change, is defense against the dark arts.”

“That class is compelelty boring and stupid,” Harry grumbles in a tone that caught you by surprise. “How are we supposed to learn to defend ourselves if we’re getting taught nothing but damn rubbish.”

In your disbelief at his new anger and the frown that had so quickly formed on his face you walk in stunned silence for a brief moment. “You’re right,” you pause and glance at how hard he was grabbing his books and that’s exactly when you notice a fresh scar on the back of his hand. “Harry what happened to your hand?”

Said boy without even looking at his hand just dismisses your concern. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a scratch.”

“Just a scratch?” You scoff, trying to grab his hand to examine it better, but suddenly stopping as he pulled away swiftly and put some distance between him and you.

“I said it’s fine,” Harry continues, only growing your concern, “I need to get to class. I’ll talk to you later.”

Before you could say goodbye, Harry walks off in a hurry.

That was odd.

——

“SAVE YOUR MONEY NOW!”

“YOU WON'T REGRET IT! A DELICIOUS MYSTERY WITH EACH SWEET!”

The twins announce in a booming voice, showing off their skiving snackboxes to passing students in the courtyard. All while you hand out the brightly colored flyers.

“Oh, hello, Malfoy, I didn’t know you worked.” Clementine teases as she stops by at the sight of you next to the twins.

“Well since I’m not getting paid,” you say out sharply whilst you glare at George and Fred. “It’s not work.”

“You’re doing it because you love us,” George butts in with a smug grin as he comes up behind you.

“Exactly, it’s an act of kindness,” Fred adds. “Besides when we go big, you get anything you want for free. That’s your pay.”

You roll your eyes and take a flyer and hand it to Clementine. “You won’t regret it.”

“That’s the spirit.” Fred exclaims as he pats your shoulder.

Clementine smiles and sighs, “fine, I’ll buy a box. It’d be a shame if I didn’t support a small business.”

George grins and pulls out an orange box to hand it to Clementine after receiving the needed amount of money. “You—”

“Won’t regret it,” Clementine finishes for George, “I got it.” Her eyes shift to a couple of passing first year Slytherins and her lips twist into a mischievous smirk; she gently elbows your arm and whispers, “watch this—hey wait!”

“What is she doing?” George asks as the three of you turn to watch what she was planning to do with a curious wonder that stopped you from trying to sell for that moment.

“I see you’re fellow Slytherins and I know how tough it can be so—”

“Oh,” Fred grins, “wicked.”

Clementine rambles on in a tempting manner that wins the kids over and gets them to take the box from her hands and try it right there. All of them innocently falling for her trap just like many other new year students did when George and Fred attempted too. And it's as funny as before as it is now, watching the students eat the candy and not expect to get pranked and temporarily change in appearance, or experience some odd feelings.

“Eh, that was wicked!” George blurts when Clementine returns, “Slytherins are usually the toughest sell.”

“More like an impossible,” Fred corrects him.

“Hey! I try!” You interject, feeling Fred grab your hand to head to your other spot to continue and sell their snacks.

“Maybe you could team up with us, that way you and y/n try selling to your house mates.” George explains in an over excited tone.

You scoff and shake your head. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“It’s not bringing her into this if we’re friends,” Fred continues.

Clementine smirks continues to walk beside the three of you. “Well when I’m not too busy with homework, or studying, we’ll see. It’s a maybe.”

“Maybe is almost a yes,”

“No it’s a maybe,” Clementine argues with George.

Just as Fred was going to pitch in, the moment the four of you turn the corner, the pink lady rounds another corner and almost runs into all of you. You try to just walk past, but she gets in the way and looks at all of you with that same wicked look.

“What is that in your hands?”

Fred steps up and attempts to ease the situation. “It’s just a group project we need to finish.”

“A school project?” She repeats with a raised brow. “So early onto the school year?”

“Well,” you add, “we are busy.”

Her eyes burn into Fred and you before her eyes drift down to your connected hands, proceeding to pull out her wand and use a charm that parted you from each other. Neither of you said anything after the action, you just looked at one another before backing away as she tried to get one of the boxes. “If it’s just a school project then it won’t mean anything if I just take a peek right?”

“Well if you take a peek then our project will be ruined,” George protests, hiding the boxes under his cloak.

Umbridge shoots him a cold feigned smile and uses her wand to pull the boxes towards her, she looks at all of you and smirks. Clementine glances at you and smirks, discreetly pulling out her wand and secretly using a charm to hide what was actually inside.

“See,” she innocently adds, “nothing but boring school stuff.”

Umbridge snaps her gaze towards her and shoots her a scowl. “Well I’m still taking this for further examination. You see I don’t understand how two six and seven years are teamed up.

Fred shrugs, “they’re smart.”

Professor Umbridge huffs and just turns and walks off with all the boxes, leaving all of you with nothing.

“Well that was a bust,” you grumble.

“Well I guess we’ll stick with more discreet ways.” George attempts to lighten the mood.

Albeit the next day a rule went up that read, “all Weasley products will be banned”, just like there was a rule that “boys and girls are not to be within eight inches of each other.” Not only that but there was more and more each day, she was slowly turning school into some kind of prison; no type of fun was allowed, she regulated the halls and classes, she checked uniforms, she kept all talk that had anything to do with anything bad, forbidden. She was changing everything and trying to take away professors, she was trying to be under control, and proclaimed that she would, that the ministry of magic would approve of it.

She was changing things for the worst.

——

“Have you noticed that Gryffindors, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs all talk with one another; they’re all so friendly, but when it comes to talking with a Slytherin it seems that they’re suddenly so quiet and competitive.” Clementine mused while the both of you “studied” in the courtyard; when in reality, you were just talking about anything that came, and watched as students from other houses all talked peacefully. “I mean why is that?”

You tilt your head to the side and study the students closer, noticing the big gaps left between Slytherins and the other students from different houses—“when I was put into Slytherin, the other houses ‘booed’.”

“See,” Clementine exclaims, “they put us aside. I know some fellow Slytherin can be a bit rude, but that’s only because they know the other students are being the same. I know a lot of friendly Slytherin; like you for example.”

A heat grows on your cheeks at her compliment and you turn to offer her a sweet smile. “Thank you, I think you’re very nice too.”

Clementine returns your smile and then looks back to the courtyard. “I mean they’re not all mean towards us, but a lot of them are.”

“Yeah I see what you’re meaning,” you sigh, leaning back and resting your hands on the grass, from the corner of your eye catching Harry and Herimone walking up to you. You fully twist your head and smile softly when they reach you. “Hi, guys, what a surprise.”

“Hi, y/n,” Hermione greets sweetly, glancing at your friend beside you. “Hello.”

Clementine offers them a simple “hello,” and let’s them speak what was obviously on their mind.

“Y/N, can we talk to you for a minute,” Harry interjects in an almost nervous manner.

“Sure.”

“Uh,” Hermione parts her lips as her eyes nervously drift to Clementine. “Alone.”

“Oh,” you breathe out slowly, glancing at your friend and preparing to stand up to follow them, but stopping as you recall your conversation that happened just mere seconds ago. “It’s okay, I trust her. You can too.”

The pair hesitate and look at one another for a second before deciding to do as you say, sitting down to begin with this talk that brought obvious tension.

“Well,” Hermione starts, “you know how poorly Umbridge is teaching defense against the dark arts, and how she’s trying to rule this school with an iron fist and not let us practice any important spells. Well…” Hermione glances to Harry and without a word to do so he continues.

“Well since we know you’re good at defensive magic, we wanted to ask, or really I did, if you’d want to join our secret group where I’ll be teaching other students defensive spells.” Harry turns even more nervous and averts his gaze so he wouldn’t see what reaction you’d give, instead he talks to the ground. “And if your friend wants to join that’d be good too. The more the better.”

“But,” Hermione interjects, “it’s top secret, nobody outside of our group can know. We’ll be trusting the both of you with our secret.”

Without hesitation, or much thought, you sit up and offer a single nod. “I’ll do it, I’ll join your secret group.” You look to Clementine and quirk your brow. “What about you? It’s fine if you don’t want to.”

Clementine looks at the three of you before landing her gaze solely on you, taking a long agonizing minute before giving an answer. “I’ll join too.”

“Great!” Hermione grins cheekily, “thank you! I’ll tell you both when and where we’re meeting! Thank you y/n and….”

“Clementine.” Said girl says.

Hermione nods and offers one last sweet smile before she stands up along with Harry.

Albeit before Harry could leave he turns to you just as nervous as before. “Can we talk later?”

Your face lights up and you nod. “Of course.”

A/N-I just wanted to provide a faceclaim for our new character just so it’s easier for some of you to imagine the character :)

Yara Shahidi as Clementine Zabini

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence, @ilovespideyyy , @m3ssytrash , @hogwarts-babe-blog @yodaboo , @missryerye

#Harry Potter #different light #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x malfoy!reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter and the order of the phoenix #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #fred weasley x reader #Draco Malfoy #Malfoy!reader #hermione granger #professor umbridge #George Weasley #blaise zabini

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harrypotterismyhorcrux · 5 years ago

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Fanfics From Quarantine (so far)

Here is everything I’ve read and loved so far whilst being in quarantine since my fan fiction addiction is back at full force. All are complete fics but some have pretty heavy themes and most are explicit so, as always, check the tags before reading! (I’ve tagged as many of the authors’ tumblrs as I could find but if anyone knows any I’ve missed then let me know and I’ll tag them!)

I don’t know whether I should be proud or ashamed of myself for the amount of fanfiction I have read in the past month of two. As a result, this post is longer than anticipated

‘For The Greater Good’ by jadepresley (E, word count: 62,049) When Harry and Draco discover they’ve been bonded to one another, neither one of them is prepared for the secrets they slowly begin to uncover.Together, they learn that they can’t escape their past, or the things that have been left hidden there, and that sometimes the only way to move forward is to look back.

‘Ardour of Karma’ by XxTheDarkLordxX @xx-thedarklord-xx (E, word count: 17,118) “Malfoy knows something is going on with you and unless you both want to go back to fighting and death glares, you should fix it.”“How do I do that? Just waltz up to him and say, ‘I know I’ve been a prat but your scent makes my dick swell. How’s your day?’”“Mind repeating that?”The familiar drawl had Harry’s throat clamming up as his blood ran cold. Oh no.

‘Hermione Granger’s Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run’ by waspabi @waspabi (T, word count: 93,391) 'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

‘Reparations’ (and ‘Foundations’ E, word count: 236,075) by Saras_Girl (E, word count: 87,376) Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

‘you’ve got the antidote for me’ by Kandakicksass (M, word count: 20,730) When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

‘If I Was The Sun, He Was The Moon’ by endless_grey @harryptter (E, word count: 34,321) Harry is in his eighth year at Hogwarts, everyone is still feeling the fallout from the war and since all the eighth years now share a common room and dorms, Hermione had the brilliant idea that they should get to know each other better. In amongst bad party games, copious amounts of firewhisky, and a lot of confusion and mixed signals, Harry realises he likes Draco. Not everyone is happy about that, though.In summary: Draco and Harry kiss during spin the bottle, realise their feelings, are stubborn and oblivious, and can't seem to communicate like normal people, but it works out in the end.

‘Freedom to be’ by Quicksilvermaid @quicksilvermaid (E, word count: 169,550) Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.Only nothing feels perfect.Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

‘Love and Other Unsafe Medical Practices’ by Tedah @tedahfromtayla (E, word count: 116,854) Love is a lot like surgery: sometimes you have to take risks to succeed and most times there are unexpected side effects.Harry is back in a hospital room after an Auror sting gone wrong and nobody is amused at this point. It's starting to become somewhat of a familiar scene for Ron and Hermione. This time his healer is one Draco Malfoy so it's actually a /little/ funny when something goes wrong during recovery.

‘Post Tenebras Lux’ by Cjblack @cjblack322 (E, word count: 102,420) It had been five years since the light had fallen under the Dark Lord’s reign. The Wizarding World assumed Harry Potter had been murdered by Voldemort days after his capture; few knew the truth. And sometimes the truth can be much, much worse.

‘The Curse of the Sea’ by Samyiswriting @samyistrying (E, word count: 63,317) As the last year at Hogwarts draws to a close, Draco Malfoy behaves in a most peculiar manner, unintentionally revealing his bizarre fear of water. It's sure to get Harry's attention.

‘Unexpectancy (Into you)’ by PollyWeasley (E, word count: 20,086) Draco supposed that starting Eighth Year in Hogwarts fucking Harry Potter was a good start. Both of them were in the closet, for a lack of better words, and both of them were having fun with each other, no bonds attached, no uncomfortable talks, no need to tell their friends whatsoever. It was good to both of them, especially when you considered that the Wizarding World was stupidly ignorant and homophobic, and Draco was already suffering enough because he looked like he was gay. It was better just to keep it a secret. But when Draco suddenly finds out he ended up pregnant of Potter’s child, there was nothing he could do except face the world and reveal his secret. Would Potter accept to reveal his, too, for the sake of this new life?

‘Mental’ by sara_holmes (M, word count: 186,678) Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

‘In Evidence of Magical Theory’ by bixgirl1 @bixgirl1 (E, word count: 43,747) When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they're forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible. In which Harry and Draco can't fight, so they fall in love instead.

‘The Gift of Life’ by dragontara (E, word count: 13,658) Harry had always wanted a family of his own. Now, after a drunken one night stand, he was going to get it, but it'd be nice to remember with whom he was getting it. Also, having a baby with a Veela was a much bigger challenge for Harry than he'd have ever thought possible.

‘This Year’s Love’ by trishjames (E, word count: 84,000)This year’s love had better last, heaven knows it’s high time when you try to make lovers from friends. But Harry Potter realises time and time again that it’s simply not possible for him. And then along comes Draco Malfoy— the ultimate foe on the mend. Whatever will become of them? A story about love.

‘dirtynumbangelboy’ by magpie_fngrl @magpiefngrl (E, word count: 39,400) After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

‘Accidental Magic’ by vivi1138 @penguinanimagus (E, word count: 34,374) After the war, Draco left the magical world. He doesn’t lead the easiest life, doesn't sleep enough and has another mouth to feed. He doesn’t expect to be forced to go back early, but when his son’s accidental magic threatens the Statute of Secrecy, there’s only one person who can help.

I also re-read ‘Starts With a Spin’ by Maxine @serasarahhhh (E, word count: 119,850)

ALSO: I wanted to include ‘In The Dark’ by bixgirl1 @bixgirl1 (E, word count: 92,148 so far) because I am loving it, but just be aware that this is a WIP :)

Link to second, (you’ll be pleased to know) shorter, list

#drarry #Harry Potter #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #Draco Malfoy #hermione granger #ronald weasley #fan fiction #draco x harry #things ive read in quarantine while i should have been doing uni work #quarantine #lockdown #fanfic #fan fic #fanfic rec #complete fic #harry x draco

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mfingenius · 5 years ago

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The ‘Accio’ miracle

Trigger Warnings: very brief mention of self harm and addiction

Draco keeps secrets.

He’s always prided himself in it, knows there’s no one who’s better at it than him; he kept his father’s secrets, first, thirteen and feeling like he was being let into the world of the elite, where people knew things other witches and wizards didn’t. Then, he kept his mother’s secrets; the quiet contempt no one seemed to see, the anxiousness that ate at her day by day because of things Draco didn’t quite understand, things he wasn’t told, not yet, not even though his father had called him a man.

Third, he kept the Dark Lord’s secrets; he remembers the day they came into his home, the Dark Lord and his cult of followers, each crueler and more heartless than the last, and Draco had been fifteen and terrified, and he didn’t feel like a man, not at all, he’d felt like a child. He’d heard the things they planned, seen the things they did, and he’d kept his mouth shut. He thinks he’d died a little, then; the first time he’d heard someone scream under a Crucio was the first time he realized he knew nothing at all, that the glory and the knowledge he thought were his, what he thought the cause he was fighting for entailed, was all wrong.

He was all wrong.

He still said nothing.

Fourth, he keeps his own secrets; or he tries to, at least. When he’s sixteen and the name Harry James Potter appears across his ribcage in horrible handwriting, he stays locked in his bathroom for three hours, the world crashing down around him; it is the summer before sixth year, and he just – he just needs to make it to September first without anyone noticing, and that’s all. He’s off to Hogwarts, and he can fuck off and never come back. For now, however – for now, well, he’s trapped in a place that used to be his childhood home but is now unrecognizable, filled with people who will not hesitate to kill him – or worse, and Draco knows what they’re capable of, he does, he’s seen them – if they find out who his soulmate is.

In that moment, Draco hates Potter, truly and overwhelmingly hates him, because he’s not going to get out of here, he’s not going to survive this if anyone finds out. The older Death Eaters already hurt him for fun, and he’s done nothing. After this, they’re going to kill him.

So he does what he has to; he draws a Difindo across the name, over and over until it is unrecognizable, and the pain of it is agonizing, but he shoves a towel between his teeth and bears his way through it; it gives him time, an excuse not to come out of his rooms if anyone comes looking for him – they don’t - but when the skin heals, the name is right there, readable over the scars, and Draco has to sit and just breathe, because this can’t be happening.

After that, he does the next best thing; he wears layers upon layers, skin-tight shirts underneath loose robes so no one will notice, keeps the mark hidden, knows he only needs to get through the summer.

And he almost succeeds. The last day of July – Potter's birthday, Draco knows – the Dark Lord tells him he’s taking the Mark; it’s supposed to be an honor, Draco knows, he can see the pride in his father’s eyes, but the only thing he feels is dread.

He doesn’t want the Dark Mark.

“Shirt off,” the Dark Lord hisses, and Draco’s blood runs cold; he knows it is usual for people to take the Dark Mark shirtless; it’s a metaphor, he thinks, something about his mind and body belonging to the Dark Lord, but for him it’ll be his doom.

Slowly, very slowly, he begins unbuttoning his robes.

Seven years later

“Anything yet?” Ron asks, stepping into their office when two bags of Chinese food; there’s a muggle place two blocks away from the ministry that makes the best spring rolls in the world, and they always eat from there when they’re working on a tough case.

“No,” Harry says, gratefully taking the box that Ron offers him. “Fuck, this smells delicious.”

Ron nods. “Got extra spring rolls for you.”

Harry groans a muffled ‘thank you’, already devouring the fried rice; he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, and he’s starving. He welcomes the taste of salty, fried food, and then looks back to the surveillance footage they’re watching. They’ve been investigating the death of a muggle military general, because he had no apparent cause of death to muggles – an Avada Kedavra - and because traces of magic were found at the scene.

“There he is, look at that.” Harry and Ron lean forward at the same time, eyes narrowing at the grainy footage; they'd ‘confiscated’ it from the Muggle Police – better to avoid unwanted questions when they saw it – but they’re used to how well one can see surveillance charms, so this is undoubtably a step down.

“What is he doing?” Harry asks, frowning; Edward Thomas can be seen drinking alone in the hotel bar; he’d be found in his hotel room, but they’ve already scanned the elevator and hall tapes and nothing has come up, so they’re working their way back.

He’s speaking to the man beside him, whose face they can’t see because his back is to the camera. Harry, however, can see Thomas’s face, and he looks – evidently interested. Harry thinks he might be flirting. The other man is evidently not interested, because he turns away, but Thomas reaches out to harshly grab the other man by the arm; the man steps back, and they struggle for a moment before he manages to break himself free, finally turning towards the camera to leave.

“Holy fucking shit,” Ron says, pausing the footage and placing his takeout box on the table, moving closer. “Is that Malfoy?”

Harry nods numbly.

“Holy shit,” he echoes, and continues to stare at the furious, cool face of his soulmate.

“I can stay on the case,” Harry insists. As a policy, the Ministry doesn’t allow an Auror to work any case where their soulmate is involved, but Harry thinks these are special circumstances.

No one’s seen Malfoy in years, for one. He went missing before their sixth year – two years of being a prisoner at the manor, Harry knows – and though he appeared briefly, it was only long enough for the healers at St. Mungo’s to take a look at him. He disappeared again afterwards, as soon as he was discharged, and hasn’t been seen or heard from in five years.

Secondly, they’d finished watching the surveillance footage, and Thomas had left for his room after talking to Malfoy, which means he was most likely the last person to see their murder victim alive.

“You cannot be objective about your soulmate, Potter,” Robards says.

Harry would’ve loved not to tell him about this new development in the case, but he’d walked in while Ron and Harry were discussing it, so they’d had to.

“Sir, Malfoy and I are hardly soulmates,” Harry argues. “We haven’t spoken in five years!”

Robards looks at him calculatingly; Harry is his best Auror, and him and Ron work best together. Taking him off the case is a bad decision and he knows it, but if he doesn’t and something goes wrong because of Harry being stupid about Malfoy, it’ll be on him.

“Fine,” he says, finally. “You can stay on the case. Find me Malfoy, find me our murderer, and you do not stay alone with him at any point. If I hear you’ve messed something up because you’ve gone and done something more reckless than usual, I swear I'll fire you, Potter, even if the Minister himself tells me not to.”

Harry nods.

Malfoy opens the door, takes a look at them, and tries to close it again. Harry slaps his hand against the door to stop him, and Malfoy sighs, rolling his eyes and opening the door again, resigned.

“Potter, Weasley. What are you doing here?”

“Edward Thomas was murdered three nights ago,” Harry says; he thinks one of them should have something more to say; they are soulmates, after all. He expected Malfoy to ask how they had found him, five years after leaving the Wizarding World without a trace. Harry sort of wants to know where Malfoy has been, wonders if he’s been here, in muggle St. Rémy de Provence, the entire time, but he is trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about Malfoy. It's not working; he’s looking at him and there’s an itch just under his skin that he can’t quite get rid of. “And you were the last person to see him alive.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Malfoy says.

Ron shows him a picture of Thomas, and Malfoy’s eyebrow raises marginally.

“Oh,” Malfoy says. “Him.”

“Yes, him,” Ron says, unimpressed. “You are a witness in our murder investigation, Malfoy, and we’d like you to come into the Ministry for an interview.”

“No, thank you,” Malfoy says politely. “We’re in France, which means you have no jurisdiction. You can’t make me.”

“You’re an English wizard,” Harry says, irritated. Malfoy hasn’t changed one bit. “We could bring you in under-”

“Subsection 1359?” Malfoy finishes for him smugly. “That law only applies to active suspects, Potter, and, as you’ve told it, I’m not one.”

“We could make you one,” Harry says. It’s less than moral, and not something Harry would do, not really, but the arrogant look Malfoy keeps giving him is pissing him off. “We know you left the bar before he did, but you could’ve hired someone to kill him.”

Malfoy cocks an eyebrow. “Oh? With what money?”

“The Malfoy fortunes weren’t seized after the war,” Harry says.

“Right.” Malfoy nods. “Except I’m not a Malfoy anymore.”

Harry opens his mouth to argue, and then shuts it again. “What?”

Malfoy – or, well, not Malfoy – opens his hands in a wide gesture. “Emancipated myself from my parents as soon as my trial was over, Potter, and I haven’t done magic in years. I’m officially a muggle. I have a muggle birth certificate, a passport – I'm Monéguasque, by the way, and yes, I chose it just because I like the way it sounds – and even social security and a job. I’m a muggle.”

“What?” Harry demands, because he can’t quite wrap his head around it; Malfoy as a – as a non Malfoy? Malfoy as a muggle?

“Yes,” Malfoy says. “So you can leave me alone.”

And he closes the door on their face.

“Well,” Ron says, awkwardly. “That was – not good.”

“You don’t seem very surprised,” Harry says, mildly, when he and Ron – mostly Harry – have finished their rant about Malfoy.

“Well,” Hermione says, shifting on the sofa. “I knew all of this.”

“What?” Harry and Ron ask.

Hermione sighs and puts down the box of Greek takeout she’d been eating.

“He asked for my help, when the war ended,” she confesses. “I got him the muggle birth certificate, the passport, the school records, all of it. I had help, obviously. Luna was very helpful, unexpectedly. Turns out her father used to be a barrister, and she-”

“Why would you help him?” Harry asks. Then, “Why would he need help?”

“You’ve made him practically untouchable, I hope you know,” Ron says to his wife, kissing her cheek and reaching for another box of takeout. “It’s made our case a thousand times harder.”

“Thank you,” Hermione says, smugly. “That was the point.” She turns to Harry. “Harry, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but Draco spent two years as Voldemort’s prisoner because he is your soulmate. He lied for us in the manor. He – understandably, I might add – wanted a break from the wizarding world, he asked for my help, and I said yes. It was decent.”

Harry knows, logically, that she is right; that he shouldn’t be as angry as he is about finding out Malfoy has made a successful life for himself in France, and, if he’s honest, he’s not entirely sure why he’s angry.

Maybe – well, a tiny bit of Harry had been excited about knowing who his soulmate was since he was told about them when he was eleven, and, after getting through the initial shock of having Malfoy’s name on his ribcage, he’d hoped they could be – normal, for once.

He should’ve known better; nothing between them is ever simple.

After Malfoy had lied for him in the manor – and Harry knows Malfoy knows it was him, because they could’ve recognized each other blindfolded and with their hands tied simply by the feeling of it – Harry had been stupid enough to think that, since the war was over, now came the easy part.

The part he deserved.

And then Malfoy had disappeared without another word, and Harry had been left without a soulmate and with the entirety of the Wizarding World expecting him to know why his soulmate had left, where he’d gone to, and when he and Harry would get together.

It had been stressful.

“Why did you never mention it?” he asks, finally, and Hermione gives him a knowing look that Harry doesn’t quite understand.

“You would’ve looked for him.”

“I wouldn’t have!”

“Harry,” Hermione says sensibly. “The first year after the war – you were a mess.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not that it’s wrong! Or that it wasn’t understandable, or anything, it’s just-” she exhales, shaking her head, and continues quietly, sorrowful. “We all were. All of us, we were all – Malfoy was, too. You did not see him - I spent only a week visiting him in St. Mungo’s, and it was like he was still trapped in that house. I cannot imagine what it must’ve taken for him to move forward. If you’d gotten together then, you would’ve broken up.”

Harry clenches his jaw and looks away, but he knows she’s right; he barely remembers the year after the war, drowned in a haze of alcohol and sex and potions and clubs and anything that could make him feel even a little better for a second.

Hermione, though looking better from the outside, had been just as bad; she’d thrown herself into her work in a way that had meant she’d needed potions to keep up, and had had a brief addiction to a wizarding version of Adderall, five times as potent. She had spent almost an entire year struggling to stop after Ron and Harry had found out. There’s too much to fix, she’d said, frustrated. I can’t do it any other way.

Ron had been, surprisingly, the least self-destructive of them; he’d spent the first three months in bed, without moving at all, barely eating, and without speaking to anyone. He’d begun getting better after that – he’d seen a mind healer, and had later dragged Hermione and Harry with him, too – and now, thankfully, they’re all successful, functional people.

None of them forget, though.

Harry was surrounded by people who’d gone through what he did, by people who somewhat understood.

He couldn't imagine Malfoy having to live through it in the muggle world, with no one who could understand why he couldn’t sleep at night, why he got lost in his own head.

“I’m going to talk to him again,” he says stubbornly.

Hermione’s smile is wry. “I know you are.”

“Holy shit,” Malfoy jumps when he walks out of his apartment and finds Harry standing there, leaning against the wall. “Don’t you know how to knock, Potter?”

“Would you have opened the door?” Harry asks with a raised eyebrow.

Malfoy glares at him. “If someone won’t open the door for you, the polite thing to do is leave.”

Harry ignores him. “Are you a doctor?”

Malfoy is wearing lavender scrubs, with a navy blue Henley underneath thick white shoes.

“Nurse,” Malfoy corrects, and then seems surprised at himself for having answered. He crosses his arms across his chest defensively. “I’m a neonatal nurse at the hospital.”

“Is it far?”

Malfoy shakes his head mutely.

“I’ll walk you,” Harry offers. Malfoy looks surprised and more than a little bit suspicious, but he chews on his lower lip and nods. Harry lets Malfoy lead the way, and, together, silently, they walk towards the hospital where Malfoy works.

St. Remy de Provence is unexpectedly beautiful; it’s small, and much quieter than Harry’s used to – magical London is busy and loud on the best of days – but it’s cozy, and Malfoy looks truly peaceful.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” Malfoy asks finally, quietly. “I’m not going to help you with your case.”

“I don’t have a case anymore.” Harry shrugs. “I was transferred.”

He’d gone to Robards after he’d seen Malfoy, and had admitted he couldn’t work the case. Robards had already another team waiting.

Malfoy gives a humorless smile. “Should I be expecting another Auror at my door soon, then?”

Harry shakes his head. “I told them you didn’t know anything.”

Malfoy blinks, stunned for a second, and then mutters a quiet ‘thank you’.

They continue walking in silence, and then Harry decides to simply say it.

“I want you to come back.” Malfoy immediately stiffens, and Harry can see he is going to refuse outright, which is why he continues quickly. “It doesn’t have to be right now. I don’t mean to pressure you, and I know you - I know you’ve been dealing with – well, everything, like the rest of us, but – it's not the same without you.”

He wishes he were lying, but he’s not; he’d been unable to sleep the night before, and had, very slowly, very painfully, realized that he’s actually missed Malfoy, all this time. Sixth year without him was worse than ever, and through being on the run, Harry had, secretly, wondered where he was, all the time. He'd checked every day, nearly every hour, his soulmark with Draco’s name in his handwriting, only to make sure that it was still inked black and not a faded grey, to know he wasn’t dead.

Seeing him at the manor – and that is not a memory Harry will ever forget. Seeing Bellatrix dragging him forward with a chain wrapped around his neck had sent blinding fury through Harry – had been a breath of fresh air and relief where there was none, if only for a few seconds. Losing him again so shortly after, when he’d disappeared after being discharged, had been unbearable, even on top of everything else.

“I can’t,” Malfoy whispers.

“What?”

“I can’t.” Malfoy clears his throat, looks away. “I meant it when I said I was a muggle, Potter. I – we're soulmates, and I’ve missed you for some – some reason-” he lets out a disbelieving laugh and shakes his head. “I can’t do magic.”

Harry cannot speak. Then, “What?”

“I can’t do magic anymore,” Malfoy says, louder. “When I was – there - my wand was taken away, and I spent - I spent two years without being able to even touch a wand, let alone do any magic, and – afterwards, I was so – so terrified of them I couldn’t bring myself to grab one.”

“Have you tried?”

Malfoy gives him a look. “Obviously. My therapist – she's a muggle, so I had to come up with some pretty creative metaphors, and I think she knows I'm lying to her – she suggested I try to get more comfortable to eventually start doing it again. I worked on it, and I’m not – afraid anymore, not really, I can be around wands, but - I can’t do magic. I’ve tried, even with the simplest of spells, and I can’t. She says – it's just trauma, I know that, but I can’t.”

Harry stays quiet; he cannot imagine not being able to do magic. It had been one of the few things that got him through everything after the war, and having it taken away – well, fuck.

“I’m sorry,” he says uselessly.

Malfoy gives a tense shrug. “I’ve gotten used to it. But I can’t go back.”

“I-”

“I have to go in.” Malfoy gestures to the big hospital on their right. “I’ll... see you later?”

Harry nods, and watches as Malfoy walks away.

“This is crossing so many lines,” Hermione had said, when Harry had told her of his plan.

Harry is aware he is crossing many, many lines, but he is now outside of Malfoy’s door, so he cannot back down.

He knocks, and, a few seconds later, the door opens; Malfoy seems to have just woken up – and it’s nearly four in the afternoon, but Harry doesn’t know what kind of shifts he works at the hospital, so he’s not judging him too much – and blinks owlishly at him for a few seconds before sliding his gaze to the person standing next to Harry.

“Potter,” he says, very slowly. “What have you done?”

“This is Healer Bo,” Harry says, placing his hand on Malfoy’s door to stop him from – predictably – slamming the door on their faces. Healer Bo is a little old man with dark, greying hair, shorter than both of them but also probably smarter than them combined. “I know you’ve said your therapist thinks it’s trauma, but what if it’s something different?”

“Potter.” And oh, okay, Malfoy is furious, as is evident by the quickly blooming color on his face. “I am not some victim you can focus your – your hero complex on. I told you those things to explain, not to have you turn me into some pet project!”

“That’s not what I'm doing!” Harry defends. “I’m only trying to help you-”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“Well, deal with it, you git, because we are soulmates and I want to help you, and I want you to come back, and I want you to be able to do magic because you deserve it!”

“So you just want me to uproot my entire life for you?” Malfoy demands. “Why don’t you come to the muggle world instead of setting me up with a healer appointment I didn’t ask for? He’s not going to be able to do anything!”

“How do you know that?” Harry pushes. “Your therapist is muggle, Malfoy-”

“Don’t call me that, I’m not-”

“Draco, you can’t have told her everything, so her diagnosis can’t be reliable-”

“Well, too bad! I’m not letting some random healer you’ve brought to my door run tests on me-”

“I’ve already run them,” Healer Bo says calmly. “Your magical core is damaged.”

Silence.

“What?” Draco asks, fragile.

“It could be trauma, as well, but it’s not only that,” Healer Bo explains. “Your magical core is damaged. I need you to come into my office so I can run some more tests.”

Harry spreads his hands in an ‘I told you so’ gesture, and Draco throws balled socks at him.

“What did he say?” Harry asks anxiously, standing up as soon as Malfoy comes out the door, Healer Bo following close behind him. “What did you say? What’s wrong?”

Healer Bo and Draco share a look.

“I told you he frets,” Draco tells him.

“You were right,” Healer Bo agrees solemnly, and before Harry can be properly offended, he continues. “Draco's magical core is damaged because of Crucio.”

“That can happen?” Harry asks, frowning.

“That’s what Crucio does,” Healer Bo says. “It cracks one’s magical core. It’s why it feels like everything is burning. If it’s done enough, the magical core can be damaged irreparably.”

Harry holds his breath. “Is - Draco’s-”

“No,” Healer Bo says; Draco can complain all he likes, but he’s beaming beside Healer Bo. “It’s not irreparably damaged. It will be a long process, however. You’ll both need to be patient.”

They both nod, quickly, and Harry asks, “Do I – should I do something?”

“Support your soulmate,” Healer Bo says simply. Draco’s cheeks turn red, but Harry nods seriously. He’ll do anything he can. “I’ve already given Draco the Potions he’ll need to be taking, and we will have to perform Healing spells once every two days. You can either come in here, or I can send one of my interns-”

“We’ll come in,” Harry says immediately; he assumes Bo’s interns are good – Bo is, after all, one of the highest praised healers in the world – but he wants Bo to do it. He won’t trust anyone else with his soulmate.

“Alright,” Bo says. “I’ll see you in two days.”

“What are you thinking about?” Harry had taken Draco out for a late lunch; they’re at the only restaurant reporters never find Harry, a tiny Indian takeout place. The lady who runs it loves Harry, so she never calls the reporters, and doesn’t allow anyone else to call them, either. He’d figured Draco wouldn’t want to be in a Prophet article on his first day back.

“A lot of things,” Draco admits. “The possibility of getting my magic back. The fact that I didn’t quit the hospital before we left, which means that technically I have a shift in twenty minutes, which I figure I’m not going to make. The fact that I have nowhere to live and no money to get a place to live-”

“Come live with me,” Harry blurts. He’s never had the best brain-to-mouth filter.

“What?”

“Live with me,” he repeats. “I’ve - a flat. I moved out of Grimmauld place, it was too – too many memories, but – we can live together, and – if you want to leave, later, I’ll let you, but – well, I'd like it if you stayed.”

Draco stares at him for a moment, and then looks away, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks. “Alright.”

Harry can’t help but grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The recovery of Draco’s magical core is, as the healer had said, slow. Healer Bo tells them that it really helps that they’re together, because being far from one’s soulmate can be greatly stressful, and Harry is glad to be doing what he can. Apart from that, they settle into Harry’s flat quite nicely.

Harry refuses to sleep on the couch – he was about to offer, but then Draco demanded it, so Harry would be damned before he gave up his bed – and Draco refuses to not sleep in the biggest bed available, so they share Harry’s bed, which Harry thinks should feel weird, but it doesn’t.

It feels... right. Like home, sort of.

Time passes much quicker than it used to, without Draco; Harry takes a year leave from the Aurors so he can dedicate, fully, to his soulmate. Draco gets reintegrated to the magical world slowly, and though he cannot do magic, he’s evidently glad to be back.

They even get pets – a fat kneazle that they call Morgana and a huge black crup that they call Godric – and pretty much build their life together. Draco opens a bakery – and really, of all things Harry imagined Draco doing, this was not one of them – and it turns out that Muggle treats are not widely known in the wizarding world, and they are widely liked, once Draco starts selling them. Because he runs the place, he only works during the morning, which means they get to spend their afternoons lounging together in their flat, watching the telly or teasing each other.

“Potter, I swear to Merlin,” Draco growls, glaring tightly at Harry, who’s holding his favorite mug as high as he can reach.

“I’ll give it to you,” Harry tells him. “As soon as you admit that you’re the one who got our reservation wrong.”

“I did not! You said seven!”

“I told you, a thousand times, that our reservation was at six!”

“No, you didn’t!”

Turns out, being soulmates didn’t really stop their fighting, but it’s different now. Harry is rarely truly angry while they argue, unlike before, and Draco is the same way.

“Yes, I did!”

“No you bloody didn’t!” Draco snaps. “Give me my mug back right now, or I’ll - I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Harry asks smugly. “What will you do to me, Draco?”

Draco glares at him, ears red in his anger, and then grabs Harry’s wand off the counter and yells, ‘Accio’.

The mug flies straight from Harry’s hand into Draco’s. They’re both so surprised it slips from his hands, shattering on the floor.

Neither of them care.

“Did I just-”

“Did you just-”

They look at each other for a moment, before they both break into the biggest grins imaginable. Harry laughs and pulls him in for a tight hug, lifting him and spinning around in their kitchen, miraculously not stepping on any shards of ceramic.

“You just did magic, Draco!” Harry practically yells, not putting him down. “Magic!”

“I did!” Draco’s ecstatic, over the moon, grin wider than Harry’s ever seen. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

And he grabs Harry’s face roughly and pulls him in for a deep kiss.

They both freeze momentarily, and Harry puts him down.

“I’m sorry,” Draco begins immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t - I shouldn’t have-”

Harry pulls him in for another kiss, deeper this time, and pulls him closer, grabbing his hips.

“Don’t apologize,” he pleads. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

“You have?” Draco sounds surprised.

“Yes,” Harry says, and he kisses him again. Draco wraps his arms around his neck, and Harry lifts him again, sitting him in their kitchen counter, and he can’t get enough, he can’t stop, he can’t.

When they both pull away to breathe – a long, long time later – Harry cannot stop grinning at him.

“I love you,” he says. “Soulmate.”

Draco’s grin is the only thing Harry wants to see for the rest of his life.

“I love you, too,” he says, rubbing their noses together sweetly. “Soulmate.”

And Harry kisses him again, and he thinks that if everything he had to go through was leading to this moment, he’d do it all again, a thousand times, however many times it was necessary, because this? This is everything.

-----------------------------------------

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neptune-stars · 5 years ago

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hey darlings it’s samhain today so here’s a little fic i wasn’t sure what to do w for the occasion!! mwah sorry for the angst

———————————————————————

when sirius was eleven, he walked up to the hat and requested gryffindor.

“your ambition will be the end of you,” said the hat, but put him into gryffindor anyways.

sirius, while in school, could not figure out what that meant, because he wasn’t particularly ambitious. he supposed he liked pranks well enough, but they weren’t his entire life, and he liked pissing off his parents, but he wasn’t going to make a career out of that either.

it came to him suddenly, and when it did, the world stayed the same.

james potter met sirius black when they were barely eleven and defended him against some snotty greasy boy on the train. james potter didn’t care that sirius was a black, didn’t care that sirius’ family was dark - he didn’t mind that sirius wasn’t all that light either.

see, sirius would lay down his life for just about anyone really. but there were only two people that he would kill for. that he would love until the end of time.

and one of those people were james potter.

when james died, all the bright and happy and good things in the world died with him. sirius was the one to find him first, his james lying spread eagle across the stairs, wand still in the living room. but james looked peaceful there, like he was ready and happy it was finally over, and sirius wanted nothing more than to go to the afterworld and yank that peacefulness away.

lily is upstairs. her usual bright green eyes are cold in death, red hair surrounding her head like a halo. her collarbone is bleeding something awful, and when he pulls down her shirt a little to see - to stop the bleeding, to stop the blood from sinking into her shirt because it was lily’s favorite sleep shirt, one of marlene’s old ones - he finds a rune, a cross between algiz and six he’s never seen before carved into her skin. her blood is sprinkled around the edges of the room and there is a matching rune on harry’s crib.

harry is alive. he is bleeding sluggishly from the forehead, and he is wailing something awful, but he is alive. sirius picks him up, closes lily’s eyes and closes his own when he walks past james. puts harry carefully into his sidecar, and then hagrid is there and sirius trusts him and and and

he is filled with a vengeance so deep there is nothing that could possibly stop him. he think he would kill dumbledore, voldemort, Lady Magick herself if they got in the way, and he goes after peter with reckless abandon-

he is tricked.

it is such a slytherin move, such a slytherin move for little, mousy peter pettigrew that when the aurors find him he is laughing and laughing and laughing and then he is crying.

alastor is there, staring at him with nothing less than absolute disgust. his mentor, his and james’ mentor, thinks sirius killed james, and that just makes him laugh harder.

he is thrown in azkaban without a trial. it’s cold there, and they only give you one meal a day, and the vengeance still burns but not as bright as his grief.

bellatrix, his big cousin bella, takes him under her wing. she’s a little bit mad, and she tortured his friends to insanity, but she knows he didn’t betray the potters and she know he didn’t kill all those muggles and she still loves him. she protects him, with their cells right next to each other, by telling him story after story until her throat goes dry and she can’t speak another word, like they are children again and walburga and druella are screaming and banging on the other side of the door while they hide from their mother’s rage.

“why did you do it, bella?” he asks her one day, when his brain is particularly loud. “why did you kill all those people? those innocents?”

“i didn’t mean too,” she says, and she sounds terribly small. “the dark - it’s seducing, sirius. it pulls you in until you can’t get out.”

the death eaters all come from broken homes, homes where there parents were still together in loveless marriages and their mothers liked to scream and slap and fathers like stone cold silence and quiet crucio’s. the dark arts is a savior, a winning, something to help them get away from suffocating under the stress of it all.

it doesn’t help, sirius thinks, that muggle studies is so behind. sirius thinks a lot in azkaban and he thinks that muggle studies class should be mandatory, because most of the death eaters are convinced muggles are still burning witches and wizards at the stake.

“will you kill him?” asks bella another day. “the man who betrayed you, and cousin james?”

sirius thinks of all the people he killed during the war. he thinks about the small part of him that thought it had been fun, literally ripping out spines and burning them from the inside out and back again. he had insisted it was for justice, justice for marlene and dorcas and mary and gideon and fabian and benjy, but now he isn’t so sure.

“yes,” he says. “i will.”

when the ten year mark hits, bella screams in her cell, screams and screams and slowly the rest of prison fills with it too. the next day, in the courtyard, she shows him her arm, the tattoo that was almost faded and now is turning black again.

“he’s coming,” she says, but she does not sound happy. she sounds tired.

“promise me something,” she says later that night. “promise me, when we get out of here, because you know we all will - promise me you’ll aim to kill. i can’t keep going on mad, killing people just for their blood.”

he stares at her, his cousin bella. he remembers when they were just kids, reading in the library and skating on ice in bella’s back yard in the winter, and then later, in hogwarts, when he would find her cursing muggle-borns and half bloods and blood traitors alike. he didn’t recognize her then but he recognizes her now, as his scared, tired big cousin, more like his mum than his mum ever was.

“i promise,” he says. “now promise me the same.”

“you have a godson,” she says. “you must protect him.”

“promise me,” he insists.

she does.

the day before he escapes, he hugs her tight in the courtyard. she hugs him back, hands shaking, and when he sneaks out in dog form she gives him a shaky nod.

the ambition to protect james failed, so now he will do so with harry. the last potter.

harry flies like his dad, maybe even more, with completely recklessness and only the smallest amount of control. harry throws witty comments at draco malfoy and winks at cho chang in the air and all sirius can see is james.

“he’s a werewolf!” hermione granger explodes, pointing to remus, and sirius thinks he is the only one who sees harry’s look of yeah, obviously.

(later, harry will confide in sirius that he figured it out the moment he saw remus’ boggart.)

“i don’t think my dad would’ve wanted his best mates to become murderers, thanks,” says harry, still sarcastic and still so james even as he protects the man who made him an orphan.

sirius does not have the heart to tell him he already is one, and apparently neither does remus, but they back down anyways.

sirius thinks the next two years pass in a blue he barely remembers. he went to the caribbean for a little while, ate good until he was almost healthy and glowed with a light tan. he went back to dreary Scotland because harry was being hunted, again, and he remembers, distantly, living in a cave, watching harry in dog form as he slammed into the ground, a dead boy held tight in his hands.

dumbledore sends him right back to the dursley’s, and sirius wants to kill him. harry does not get grief counseling, or therapy, or to be surrounded by people he loves, because he is harry potter and it is not easy, being him.

sirius moves back into his old, childhood home, and stares at the spot on the living room floor where he had been tortured before he ran away. he throws up in the bathroom where he and bella used to hide.

he cleans the drawing room, where he and andi used to stare at the inter crossing lines, andi promising “i won’t be on there one day, just you wait.” he cleans the kitchen, where he and cissa used to flurry around with kreacher, throwing flour and sugar at each other while they attempted to make cookies.

he walks through the halls, where he and regulus used to chase eachother, to the stairs, where he used to slide down the curling banister, to the cell, where he used to get locked up.

harry comes to grimmauld and he yells at his friends - rightfully so - and then yells some more at dinner, and then he cries. he cries in the living room, in his bedroom, in the kitchen, in the drawing room, on the staircase. he cries when sirius hugs him and he cries when remus pats his shoulder and he cries and he cries and he cries and sirius just has to sit there and listen, because he can do nothing else.

it is quiet when harry leaves for school. sirius drinks a lot of firewhiskey and smokes a lot of hidden cigarettes and it is lonely even after harry comes back for yule time because then he leaves again.

hermione writes him a letter and says harry doesn’t cry anymore. now he’s angry all the time, at dumbledore for ignoring him and cedric for dying and his friends for not understanding and his parents for killing themselves so he could live, at himself for living-

on june eighteenth, sirius wakes up for the last time. he brushes his teeth and uses whiskey as mouth wash for the last time, eats blueberry pancakes for the last time, pets buckbeak and kisses remus for the last time and-

he hugs harry for the last time. there is a voice whispering in his head that he knows it is today, today he will finally rest, so he hugs his godson extra tight.

bella is there. she looks insane, with her hair spiked up and eyes bright, but when she looks at him her smile softens a little bit.

“you promised,” she mouths.

“so did you,” he says back, and they duel.

she doesn’t want to kill him. she hits him with a stupefy, but the veil is just behind him, and he falls through it.

harry is screaming bloody murder, heartbroken and pleading, and wrestles with remus who is trying to hold him back. it’s like the whole world stopped, and bella is looking at him, meets his eyes one last time, and says loudly, clearly, “i promise.”

he says thank you, i forgive you, i love you, with his eyes, and then he falls faster and lands hard on the ground.

“blimey, mate,” says a voice. “you really are clumsy, even when you’re dead.”

james potter grabs his hand and pulls him up, regulus holding his shoulder, and sirius begins to cry.

#lily evans #pro sirius black #sirius black #james potter #little wolfstar #like minor minor mention #harry potter #sad sirius #grief #peter pettigrew #bellatrix lestrange #regulus black #ootp #james and sirius #my loves #the wizarding war #the war

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bixgirl1 · 6 years ago

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New Fic - Glompfest!

Title: Life Lessons Author: Bixgirl1 Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy Rating: Heh. Explicit. Word Count: 68k Content/Warnings: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Wandless Magic, Banter and flirting and snark - oh myyy - UST!, accidental kissing, intentional kissing (just really a lot of kissing), Epistolary elements, Auror Harry, Humor, dancing, weird plotty stuff ‘cause I can’t help myself, mentions of childhood trauma and previously-made sexual threats, wanking, oral sex, anal fingering, anal sex, rimming (omfg I just realized I forgot that in my AO3 tags!), intergluteal sex, semi-public sex. Summary: On the cusp of a promotion, Harry needs a little help with his image. Enter Draco Malfoy — who doesn't really do that, Potter — to whip him into shape… and make him feel things he hasn't for a very long time. Featuring: odd jobs, surprising chemistry, lots of accidental kissing, the Prophet living up to type, owls exhausted by the carrying of dirty letters, a secret no one can talk about, a merry band of Slytherins (none of whom really approve), and an enchanted mirror (who really, really does).

Author’s Notes: For @m4g0rtz. I’ve wanted to write for you for the LONGEST time, sweets. Your comments before we met always made me absolutely light up, and then I got to know you and I realized you’re just as fabulous as you seemed. Your friendship has meant so much to me from the beginning, and this fest gave me the perfect excuse to say so in fic; I hope you can forgive my sneakiness while I wrote this for you. lolol.

A huge thanks to my lovely betas, @lqtraintracks and @coriesocks. You guys were both so effing patient with me and both so encouraging and helpful - you made this like a zillion times better than it would have been otherwise. <333333

And a huge thanks to the mods, too, for running such a fun, wonderful fest!

Excerpt (under the cut):

It was one of the most fundamental truths of Harry’s life: as soon as things were going well, everything would turn to shit.

You’re a wizard, Harry — just be on guard for that murderer hunting you. You have a godfather, Harry — but be careful not to get too attached to him. From his relationship with Ginny (which never got back off the ground after the war) to his life after defeating Voldemort (which would never resemble anything approaching normal), there was always some sort of caveat. Privately, he called it “End of the School Year Syndrome.”

The fact that this time it had actually been scheduled for late June was simply ironic.

“That’s not even six weeks away,” Hermione said, frowning.

“Your confidence in me is inspirational,” Harry said. “And the maths isn't really what I’m having a problem with.” He took the invitation back from her and re-buried his face in one of the sofa pillows. It smelled a little like feet and Ron’s deodorant, as though Ron had Transfigured it into a footstool and then only had time to hastily return it to form and freshen it with a charm before Hermione saw and got on him again about just using one of their existing footstools. Harry tossed it to the floor, face smooshing against the sofa cushion as he blindly reached out in search of another pillow. He heard Hermione huff just as one hit him on the back of the head. Harry shoved it under his face. “Thanks,” he said, muffled.

There was a beat of silence, and then Hermione sighed and rested her hand against the back of his head. “How long do you need to sulk?” she asked, stroking her fingers through his hair.

Harry slumped a little deeper. “Five weeks.”

“I’ll give you until Ron gets back with dinner,” she said, more to herself than him. "And for goodness’ sake, Harry, at least take off your glasses.”

Harry managed to take them off without lifting his head or breaking them — proof, he supposed, that he wasn’t entirely incompetent. Hermione took them from his hand and rose with a final, fluttering pat on his shoulder blade. Harry exhaled and tried to consider his options, but was quickly lulled by the drum of the rain on the windowpanes and the pop of the fire. He listened to Hermione putter around her kitchen and relaxed; more than for the advice or commiseration, this was why he’d come, if he was honest. Ron and Hermione’s cottage was homey, calm, most of their furniture crafted from Ron’s magic, the air inside scented by the lavender Hermione had planted in the beds below their windows. Harry missed the company, and the lived-in quality of the tiny flat they’d shared before Ron and Hermione moved out, the distracted mess of three people training for unrelated careers, always someone either there or about to be.

He liked the flat he'd moved into on his own just fine, but working the hours he did left it with a silent, sterile quality he could never seem to get rid of, even when he left the wireless on or avoided laundry for a few days. He’d tried to spruce it up more than once, but Neville wouldn’t even let him buy plants anymore, not after the Solicitous Succulents he’d brought over on Boxing Day — When they bloom, they emit soothing pheromones! You can’t kill them, they barely need any attention! — had weaponised their thorns within an hour of Nev’s arrival; a defensive measure they took when they were in danger of drying out, Neville told him later, and one he’d thought was a myth.

The sound of Ron’s Apparition to their front door roused Harry from his reverie, but he didn’t get up. He heard the rustle of takeaway being opened and dished out, a low hum of murmurs, and his own name — and then Ron shouted, “What the bloody fuck?” and stomped, fuming, into the parlour. “They’re not going to give it to you?”

Harry pushed up from his prone position and shrugged as Ron glowered down at him. “They might,” he said. “Robards said they might still.”

“Give over,” Ron said, and Harry dutifully scooted to make space. Ron threw himself down onto the sofa. “It’s utter shit, Harry.”

“I know.”

“He’s been telling you that job’s yours for… for years!”

“I know.”

“You’ve worked longer hours and closed more cases than anyone in the entire department!” Ron said. His outrage was soothing, both to Harry’s temper and his self-esteem, and a grateful smile tugged at Harry’s lips.

“I know,” he said again.

"You should just run," Ron spat. "Hermione's been saying it, we'll organise a campaign--"

"We'd have no time to prepare for it now. Besides, even if I wanted to, it would look… wrong. Robards would step aside, but… He didn't even have to run in the last election five years ago, and and no one's ever won who wasn't backed by both the exiting Head Auror, the Minister, and at least half the Wizengamot," Harry said, shaking his head when Ron took another deep breath and opened his mouth. “And anyway, Robards said it's not as simple at that.”

“The age thing again?”

Harry scowled. “I wish.”

Twice before, Robards had put off retiring when certain members of the Wizengamot had made it plain that, no matter Harry’s accomplishments to date, they had no intention of promoting someone barely into their twenties to the position of Head Auror. Trying not to take issue with their reasoning — or the extra work Robards piled on him to make a point of his capabilities — Harry’d not made a single complaint as his twenty-third and twenty-fourth birthdays ticked by. But with every successfully closed case since, Robards had assured him that by his twenty-fifth he’d have his promotion.

And then he’d called Harry in for a meeting today, offering Harry a drink before he’d even sat down.

Ron made a disgruntled sound and folded his arms across his chest. “What’s the problem this time?”

“As I was trying to tell you, husband-mine,” Hermione said dryly, walking in and levitating three plates behind her, “It's supposedly Harry.”

“What's Harry?” Ron asked, shooting her a sheepish look. He lifted two of the plates from midair, passing one over to Harry. The salty grease of Ron’s selection — fish and chips — teased at Harry’s senses and he tried to recall when he ate last. Breakfast, probably.

“The problem,” Hermione said, taking her own plate and sitting between them. “It’s Harry.”

“And I’m supposed to be the tactless one,” Ron stage-whispered to him.

“I’m not a problem,” Harry said, pulling a wounded face at Hermione.

She made a little sound of protest. “I didn’t—”

“Arguing with her never ends well,” Ron said. “You might as well just get on board with being a problem, capital P.”

“I don’t want to be a Problem,” Harry said. He turned beseeching eyes at Hermione. “Couldn’t I be something like Trouble instead?”

Ron nodded sagely. “You’ve got enough experi—”

“Oh my god, fine!” Hermione said, dropping her utensils on her plate. Cheered by the clear exasperation on her face, Harry laughed and looked at Ron, who popped three chips in his mouth and quirked her an unrepentant grin. Hermione rolled her eyes and elbowed Ron, but the look she shot him was fond and warm. “Hush, or you’ll end up with your own problem — with a capital P,” she said warningly. She turned back to Harry. “There is a point to be considered about your image, that's not wrong.”

“Hermione!” Ron said, but Hermione looked at Harry steadily, waiting. Expectant.

Harry frowned, effectively distracted from distracting himself. He squeezed a lemon wedge over his fish and opened a packet of vinegar, sprinkling it over his chips to buy some time.

“Well, it's not right,” he said at length.

“No, I know,” Hermione said, gaze softening.

“All right, can someone actually explain then?” Ron asked, waving his fork at each of them in turn and then stabbing, a little viciously, into his fish.

“It’s me. My conduct outside of work isn’t ‘befitting a senior Ministry position,’” he quoted, sounding sullen to his own ears. “The way I talk to the press, or the way I avoid them. Maybe both. The Head Auror is responsible for releasing public statements, and you know me.”

“So?” Ron said, brows drawing together. “You’re a little short-tempered with them, so what? S’not like they’re ever asking you about cases, are they? It’s always about who you’re seeing, or was that really your bum in those pictures. It’s been almost three years since you hexed one of them. Just write up the statements and release them that way.”

“There’s other things, too,” Harry said. He flushed. “The way I am with the public—”

“You’re great with the public!” Ron said, starting to look angry again. “You talk to every kid you meet, you donate, you—”

“I lose my temper with people, though.” Harry took a breath. “I arrested that man last year who wouldn’t leave me alone—”

“He was trying to shove his hand down the back of your trousers!” Ron sputtered.

“—and that whole thing in the Prophet questioning how much of an asset I could be to the Ministry when my name got in the way of my job… Well, it got a lot of traction,” Harry said. He looked down at his plate, stomach suddenly churning. “And whenever I go to public events, I stay on the sidelines, or I’m accidentally rude to some diplomat—”

“That happened twice!”

“Four times.” Harry grimaced. “More, really. Apart from little things like spilling wine all over Ireland’s Minister for Magic or insulting that envoy from Brazil by having to leave early when I got sick off the Firerolls they served at their event, apparently my dress robes are all wrong, I’ve not once used the correct fork, I may as well eat my feet for how often they’re in my mouth, and I refuse to dance, no matter who’s asking.”

“Well you’re not good at it!” Ron fairly yelled, getting so red in the face his freckles were barely visible. “How the bloody hell can anyone blame you after what happened last time!”

Read the rest on AO3

#new fic #my fic #glompfest #life lessons #gift fic #for m4g0rtz #you wonderful darling #drarry

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the-professor-persists · 6 years ago

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I'm sorry to just ask out of the blue, but I'd love if you wrote some drunk Draco. Might help me feel better.

You know, Anon, I feel that to my core. I’m sorry that this is…not great. I hope you feel better independently of my slightly tortured pre-Drarry. Draco is also not as funny as he normally is when I write him drunk and for that, I can only blame my own slightly weird mood. Sorry friend ❤️ ❤️

Harry jolted awake to a large crash, wand in hand and alert. It had been a decade and a half, yet noises in the night still freaked him out. He bolted upright and realised right away why he’d heard the sound; he was not in his highly-Warded and unplottable flat above the cauldron shop of Hogsmeade. Instead, he was haphazardly sprawled on the very nasty sofa in the staff lounge.

He took a few seconds to reorient himself, trying to work out why it was that he hadn’t made it home. The details shuffled through his mind slowly. Grading papers now so that if he finished on this random Thursday evening, if he caught up on the many hours of marking he’d put off, he could go to Ottery St. Catchpole at the weekend. Visit Molly. Play with the kids. Sneak in a few seeker games with Ginny.

Reoriented and no longer afraid in the safety of the castle, Harry was focused on the soft curse words from the small kitchenette around the corner that now made him chuckle. He casually wandered over, smoothing out his rumpled robes as best he could.

“Buggering fuckery fucking nitwit,” the quiet voice was whispering from the floor, surrounded by tins and boxes that had clearly just been wrenched from various cupboards.

“Need any help?” Harry asked.

The figure jumped slightly, then leaned back from a cross-legged position until it was lying with its back on the floor, revealing a very crumpled Draco Malfoy.

“Oh, of bloody fucking course it’s you,” he cursed, letting his legs fall to the floor too so that he was now completely prone and staring at Harry upside down. “Why in Salazar’s name are you in the lounge at…wait, is it still three?”

Harry glanced at his watch, then nodded, considering Malfoy’s slant and slur, his general dishevelled nature. “Um. Are you…no. Never mind.” “Drunk?” Draco sighed, closing his eyes. “Indeed.” “And you’re looking for…tea?”Draco giggled, the sound positively unnerving given who it was coming from. “Hid some biscuits in here last week. Ran out of snacks upstairs in my room.”

“Biscuits?” Harry repeated.

“Hungry.”

Draco didn’t explain further. Instead, his upside-down smile turned predatory, his eyes sweeping up and down Harry’s body; even from this unusual position, Harry flushed at the scrutiny. Draco’s face was always an open book, and the expression they’d landed on now seemed to be lust. Harry was flustered. It didn’t help that Draco looked like he’d been through a trial. His hair was a mess, the remains of black eye makeup smudged at the corners of his bright grey eyes, his clothes were wrinkled and stretched. He wore a tight, dark blue t-shirt with a deep vee that let his sharp collar bones escape. Black jeans and high boots added to the come hither outfit.

Harry cleared his throat.

Draco looked away. “You sleep here now?” Bit pathetic, even for you.” He reached his hands up into the air. “Help me up?”

Without a second thought, Harry walked around the boxes and gripped Draco’s hand, dragging him up. He faltered and stumbled a moment before regaining balance, laughing the whole time. The sound was carefree and out of place.

“Grab this,” he demanded with a violent poke of his wand that sent the box flying. Harry caught it deftly and sent the other boxes back into the cupboard with his own wand before following after Draco as he seemed to tumble and bounce from the room.

When they reached the second-floor staircase that led to the staff quarters, Draco stared at them a moment like they were the tallest of mountains and then giggled as he sat heavily on the bottom step and leaned his head against the rail.

“What’s the plan, Malfoy?” Harry teased. It earned him a glare that he appreciated more than was decent. It also forced Draco up again.

“Gonna ask me what happened?” he asked with a glimmer in his eye,

Harry smirked, offering an arm that Draco clung to instantly as they set off up the stairs. “No offence, clever clogs, but this isn’t really that hard to work out, even for a failed Auror like myself. It’s Thursday… Pub night. I’m guessing blue drinks, based on your…nevermind… I also have a feeling I can blame Professor Perkins, but that one will take more evidence.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know why I was in the lounge,” Draco tried to retort vehemently. He tripped instead, ending up against Harry and jabbing him with a finger in the chest that may or may not have been intentional. They carried on upwards in silence, Harry wrapping an arm around Draco’s back when he stumbled next.

“Thank you for walking me home, Mr Potter,” Draco sneered as they reached the top of the stairs. “Very chivalrous. You should be happy you aren’t…someone else.”

“Why?” Harry asked boldly.

“Might try to kiss you — Ooh!” Draco interrupted himself, looking more excited and alert than he had for the past five minutes. “Let’s go to the Potion’s classroom!”

Harry laughed and shook his head, extracting himself from Draco’s grasp and holding out the tea box, which Draco ignored. “I think you should probably avoid brewing for the next few hours, Professor Malfoy.”

“You’re no fun,” Draco pouted. “You used to be fun. I remember that. It’s why I hated you.”

Not waiting for a reply, Draco smiled broadly and whirled around in a flamboyant and extremely unsteady spin. “Do what you want, I am going to make some Felix Felicis.”

Harry started to protest but was disrupted by Draco halting in his path and turning around, smile still glued to his face.

“Did I look like Snape?” he giggled. “With the whirling and the dramatics?” He looked expectantly at Harry, who burst out laughing and grinned despite himself.

“You might have,” he agreed eventually. “But you aren’t wearing robes.”

“I know,” Draco scowled, looking down at himself and then planting his hands on his hips with an exaggerated pout. “I’m quite annoyed at this shirt, you know. I always pull in this shirt. This is my Pub Shirt. My Pirt! No, don’t say that. I never said that.”

“Right.”

“Right?!” Draco continued unhindered. “It’s very…purple-y, this shirt. And —”

“It’s blue,” Harry interjected.

“Ugh, no, don’t. It’s purple. Trust me. I’m not having this argument with you. It’s purple and it’s pretty and I look very fucking hot in it and I should, at this very minute, be making regrettable choices where I’m probably no longer wearing it.”

“I mean, that seems like a lot to expect of a shirt,” Harry teased.

“And instead,” Draco continued, “I’m in a school corridor with you at half three in the morning, arguing about purple. Because life is very unfair, even when you drink.”

Draco dropped his hands and waltzed back to where Harry stood, in front of the large portrait that presumably led to his quarters.

“Look,” he insisted, stepping very close and drawing up the hem of his shirt for Harry’s inspection.

Harry meant to look. He really did. He was ready and willing to look at the shirt, and then argue it’s blue-ness no matter what he colour he found there. He had a whole plan. But, when he lifted his eyes to examine the fabric before him, he instead found three things that simultaneously made him stop breathing. First, he discovered that Draco’s fingers were perfect and lithe, delicate and manicured where they gripped the fabric and held it aloft. Second, he realised that Draco’s eyelashes were incredibly long, but were so blonde that he’d never noticed (a part of Harry’s brain did realise that it might be weird that it was one of the few things he hadn’t noticed about Draco Malfoy).

And third, Harry noticed that Draco’s stomach, so pale it was almost blue, was soft. The rest of him was so defined, from chiselled jaw to sinewy forearms, that Harry had possibly been expecting abs. But instead, there was a softness to his stomach that existed nowhere else on Malfoy and Harry had to know what it felt like. He reached forward to trail his fingers down the skin before his brain caught up to him and he froze. They stared at each other in silent dare for a moment.

“I could be your regrettable choices,” Harry whispered finally.

Draco hesitated only a moment, Harry’s fingers still sitting on his stomach, before he leaned forward and made contact, mouth so full of whiskey that Harry felt like he’d taken a shot.

“You could be,” Draco muttered against his lips a moment later. “So regrettable. But no. Not like this. Not tonight. Please…regrettable choices should be things you won’t mind regretting.”

He pulled away and gently took the tea from Harry’s hand, turning on a still very uncoordinated heel.

“Serenade,” he whispered to the portrait behind him, causing it to swing open.

“Wait,” Harry protested, ignoring Draco’s slight flinch and wince when he turned back to face Harry. “One thing. Are there really biscuits in there?” he asked, gesturing to the box.

Draco snorted. “Guess you’ll never know. Goodnight…Harry."

#drarry #drarry drabble #drunk draco #predrarry #technically it's not really a fic since the lack of plot is deafening but #shrug

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vivypotter · 6 years ago

Text

Vivy’s Harry Potter Fic Recs

I’ve had a load of people ask me for my favourite tomarry fics, so I thought I’d compile a fic rec! This will probably be updated as I think of things. However, I have a lot of favourite fics which aren’t Tomarry, so I thought I’d add a few other pairings as well. I think I’ll put up a few recs of other fandoms as well when I get ‘round to it, like Hannibal or the Hobbit (I have weird reading habits okay?) It’ll help me find them too xD.

Tom Riddle or Voldemort/Harry Potter

Consuming Shadows by Child_OTKW (WIP)

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.

I feel this is genuinely one of the best Tomarry fanfics maybe ever written, and I’m sure you’ve probably read it since it’s so popular - but I thought I’d recommend it anyway! It’s not finished, but there’s enough of it to really sink your teeth into and action is properly going down right now. Harry is such an interesting character and his cat and mouse dynamic with Voldemort is so entertaining. I anxiously wait for every update!

Set the Sails (and don’t look back) by Terrific Lunacy (Complete)

1724. All Harry wanted to do was to cross the Atlantic and start his apprenticeship under one of the most renowned physicians. Tom Riddle is convinced everything floating in the seven seas belongs to him. That includes ship-wrecked, green-eyed youths. Especially if they tell him to fuck off.

This is a fic that’s really stuck with me. It’s complete (a miracle in the tomarry fandom) and there’s a fun back-and-forth between Voldemort and Harry. Our goodhearted Harry is a doctor! And for some reason, I’ve been really into Pirate AUs recently.

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars by haplesshippo (Complete)

Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.

Another pirate AU, kind of! But this one is in space! And it’s actually more of a Star Trek AU. Okay, it’s not really a pirate AU but I wanted to keep the theme going. This is such a freaking good fic- the relationship between Tom and Harry is very unusual (not as combative as the last two fics) and there are some nice twists, as well as combination of HP lore and what I assume is Star Trek (I’ve never seen it okay). And the extended cast is excellent. I fully recommend!

The Dragon's Mate by Strange_Soulmates (Complete fics but WIP series)

Harry Potter has recently escaped from his dragon-guarded tower. So has his fellow prisoner - the dragon who was enchanted to guard him. Harry's friend is missing, however, and so he sets off to assure himself of his well-being before he finds the person responsible for imprisoning them both. Accompanied by a stranger with a familiar name, Harry finds himself with more questions than answers as he slowly learns about the customs of dragons and the history of the dragon he befriended, the fearsome Voldemort.

I really love pretty much all of Strange_Soulmates’ fics, but this is definitely my favourite (and maybe the only complete one? Don’t quote me on that.) The characters are so well done, and although I love the first fic a little more than the second, they are both excellent reads! Dragons and wizards? Yes, please!

Everything's Fine in the Beast Division by Merrinpippy (Complete)

Harry's lifelong ambition is to become an auror, but as his knowledge of Dangerous Beasts is somewhat lacking, Newt Scamander agrees to take him on as an apprentice. Contrary to the Weasley twins' predictions that Harry would die of boredom, Harry finds his time at the Ministry very interesting, and befriending the very attractive Tom Riddle doesn't hurt at all- in fact, quite the opposite.

This is such a fantastic fanfiction, and a crossover with Fantastic Beasts (a franchise I can’t stand but that’s a conversation for another time). It manages to be fluffy without going OOC which is difficult for tomarry fics, and the supporting cast are adorable!

To Be Set Free by Merrinpippy

Harry Potter, raised and abused by the Dursleys ever since his parents died, lives in the cupboard under the stairs. He has no friends or family who love him and his life is dull until one day a letter arrives arrives for him, written in green ink, that promises freedom. Sounds familiar, right?

King Thomas Riddle's illness combined with his political paranoia pushes him to arrange three royal balls, after which his son, Prince Tom Riddle, must choose a guest to marry, thereby securing the kingdom's future and solidifying their strength in the eyes of their allies/enemies. Tom is convinced that he will be able to defy his father and choose no-one, or at least he is until at the first ball he meets an attractive stranger with dark hair and glasses who won't tell anyone his name...

This is also excellent, and I love a good Fairytale AU. Merrinpippy has some really good stuff. I love all of it!

As Clichéd as Clichés Go by thecrimsonmonarch (One-shot)

Harry Potter wasn't known for his social skills, mainly because they were practically non-existent.

This is a bit random but very fun. Harry is a fucking dork. That’s all there is to say. A thoroughly amusing Lawyer AU.

Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus by The Carnivorous Muffin (WIP)

As the unwitting personification of Death, reality exists to Lily through the veil of a backstage curtain, a transient stage show performed by actors who take their roles only too seriously. But as the Girl-Who-Lived, Lily's role to play is the most important of all, and come hell or high water play it she will, regardless of how awful Wizard Lenin seems to think she is at her job.

This is a still-uploading fanfic and one of my faves. It’s not for everyone- it’s a fem!Harry and she’s so different that she’s really an OC to be honest, and the story is slightly complicated. This is certainly not a fic to go for if you want IC characters. But I really love the writing and the ideas and it’s basically a new, fascinating universe. And even if they’re not IC, I love the characters all dearly. The Carnivorous Muffin is certainly an extremely talented writer- all of her stuff is excellent.

Little Bits by lordmarvoloriddle

Inspired by Cinderella. Only there's no prince and surely no one is singing about their feelings and Harry's life could be a lot worse than having three step-brothers and a father who didn't liked him. He's going to be proven right.

This is such a bloody creepy fic and so so good. The ending is a complete twist and you should definitely read it!

Drarry

Draw a Line from Your Heart to Mine by CreateImagineWrite (Complete)

Being Harry Potter's best friend isn't always fame and beating off raving fans. It's also the anxiety of hearing your best mate's been cursed by another Dark Lord, or love potioned by some crazy woman. Or having his boyfriend you knew nothing about turn up on the Burrow's doorstep.

This is a bit of a random inclusion, but I was just reading this and it is SO GOOD. Perhaps a bit cliched in places, but Ron Weasley’s inner monologue makes up for it.

Turn by Saras_Girl

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

This is an also an excellent fic that I read bloody ages ago and has apparently stuck with me. There’s this whole Harry going into an alternate dimension where he’s married to Draco Malfoy plot, but the really beautiful thing is Harry exploring his dissatisfaction with his life- through carpentry! I know it sounds like a crack fic, but it’s not- it’s a gorgeously written fic.

Away Childish Things by lettered

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

This does the ‘Harry was abused’ revelation so well and really interestingly explores both Harry and Draco’s childhood. The overarching plot is also excellently done, which can’t always be said for character-focused fics!

Jily

#Jily by Chie (Chierafied) (One-shot)

Twitter seemed awash with the hashtag Jily. Lily blinked at in confusion, until she realised it was one of those silly couple monikers people had bestowed on her and Potter. …Though there was a small dissenting crowd following a tweet from Potter’s bandmate Sirius Black: Jily? Hah! More like LAMES.

This is such a fucking cute one-shot. I love social media AUs (if you find any, send them my way), so I loved this!

The Rise and Fall of the Extraordinary Jilysanschilly: Including Excerpts of their Best Collected Works by elanev91 (One-shot)

James Potter and Lily Evans are both wildly successful YouTubers and Sirius cannot believe that people ship them enough to write erotic fanfiction about them.

You might be picking up on my love of modern Jily AUs. This is so cute, Sirius is weirdly IC as he gets caught up in a smut addiction and James and Lily don’t hate each other from the beginning so that’s fun. A very sweet YouTuber AU.

Hit the Like Button by elixirsoflife (One-shot)

YouTube star James Potter is living it up at uni: filming videos, getting drunk and professing his love for aspiring singer Lily Evans to anyone who'll listen.

It’s another modern AU, but this time, Lily is a famous singer! This was fucking adorable, enough said.

The White Album by cgner (Complete)

James poses as an advice charm in Lily's diary. He's really got to start thinking through his shenanigans.

This is the strangest mix of angst and fluff that I’ve ever read, but it really, really works. It’s also kind of a crossover, as it’s written by the co-author of:

Haggis from Algernon by Rude Gus (Complete)

The fic about nothing.

Everything written by both Rude Gus and cgner is brilliant (not a surprise as they’re almost the same person), but Haggis really is a classic. And check out their Bachelor AU fic! It’s surprisingly brilliant.

Gen and Misc

Kid by Anonymous (Completed)

A Potion's "accident" turns Harry into an eight year old. Draco Malfoy begins planning his kidnapping/conversion to the Dark Side. But Harry's a passive-aggressive, revenge-obsessed little bastard. Maybe Draco will wait on that whole Dark Lord thing…

Such a cute fic! A really nice character study of Draco and cute kid Harry is always a bonus. I’m not usually a Draco Malfoy fan, but this is a great fic.

Harveste by kyaru-chan (Complete fics but WIP series - probs abandoned)

He's done it. He's just five years old, but he's finally done it. The Dursleys are gone. And now he's with a new family who seems just as twisted as he is. How strange.

This is a really weird fic series. It’s actually an Addams family AU? Harry kills the Dursleys and gets adopted by the Addams family, and then there’s a separate fic for each HP book up to Half-Blood Prince, where I think they stopped. It definitely still worth a read though. Harry is certainly not IC but it’s a fascinating combination of the two universes with all the quirky Addams family humour. It’s certainly a bit of a crack fic to read when you’re down.

Sarcasm and Slytherin by sunmoonandstars (Complete stories but WIP series)

After ten years of misery with the Dursleys, Harry Potter learns that he has magic. Except, in this story, it's not a surprise-the only surprise is that there are others like him. Including his twin brother, Julian Potter, the savior of the Wizarding world.

This isn't the Harry you think you know.

This is WBWL kind of story (although we don’t know if Harry actually is the BWL yet. Harry is a really interesting character and his relationship with his family- especially Jules - is very well developed and nuanced. Harry’s friendships and the authors interpretation of Slytherin house is also a new twist on old tropes- it feels very fresh! I’m eagerly waiting for updates!

So there it is. Just some of my HP faves. I’m considering doing one for Hannibal, Yuri on Ice, The Hobbit, Labyrinth (my tastes are so weird) etc, so let me know if you’re interested!

#fanfic #fic rec #harry potter fic rec #tomarry fic rec #jily fic rec #tomarry

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dewitty1 · 6 years ago

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Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Astoria Greengrass, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Ginny Weasley, Original Male Character(s), Oliver Wood, Gawain Robards, Original Female Character(s), Daphne Greengrass Additional Tags: Post-Hogwarts, HP: EWE, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Background Femslash, Past Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s), Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Clubbing, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, University, Community: hd_erised, Getting Together, Draco Malfoy Being an Asshole Summary:

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Excerpt:

The harpist has been replaced by a clarinet player, whose instrument conjures pale blue snowflakes with each note, which float around the room.

Soon everything’s covered in the fake, glittering snow and the guests laugh as the flakes land on their hair and shoulders.

Malfoy asks Harry to dance in the fake snowfall. Harry refuses. Malfoy sulks. They have more drinks.

Harry watches Robards, red-cheeked from the elf-wine, talking animatedly about Quidditch to a witch, whose eyes are frantically looking for a way out of the conversation.

Malfoy blows kisses to Mrs Nithercott’s nieces and Mrs Nithercott glares at him. It’s fun.

Until Narcissa sidles next to Harry the minute Malfoy is absorbed in a discussion about St Mungo’s funding with someone who Harry thinks may be in the Wizengamot.

‘Enjoying the evening?’ she asks Harry. Flakes shine through her bright hair.

‘I am,’ Harry replies, tensing instantly. Malfoy’s behaved like Harry meeting Narcissa would give away their deal, but it turns out that she doesn’t question Harry as to how Malfoy drinks his tea or about his childhood toys, but chats about his work and the Pu.Fo.P’s various projects. Harry relaxes and even laughs when she relates an amusing anecdote from one of the board meetings.

‘So,’ she says, smile sharp on her face, ‘I was wondering if you and Draco would like to have luncheon with us next weekend.’

Cheerfulness vanishes. Just the idea of stepping foot in the Manor covers Harry in cold sweat. That’s one line he won’t — can’t — cross for his pretend relationship. ‘Forgive me,’ he tells her, ‘but I’d rather not visit the place I was held a prisoner.’

‘I understand,’ she concedes after a pause. ‘Of course, that might be an impediment to your relationship with my son, not willing to visit the home he grew up in.’

Harry thinks he might have made a wrong step somewhere. He feels like he’s dancing on a landmine. ‘It’s early days,’ he says as diplomatically as he can. ‘If Draco and I become serious, then it’s something I’ll have to deal with.’

‘So this isn’t serious?’ she asks. ‘Simply a rebound fling for you, perhaps?’

Fuck. ‘No, I er… I’m very fond of Draco. Not a rebound, no. We’re very close. Really. Awfully in love, if I may be so bold. Head over heels. I er… make him tea in the mornings. One sugar and a splash of milk.’

Harry’s vaguely aware he’s fucked up.

Narcissa Malfoy smiles as if Harry has confirmed something she suspected. ‘It was lovely talking to you.’

A second after she leaves, Malfoy arrives and interrogates him. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. ‘Fuck’s sake, Potter, how could you fail so spectacularly? She’ll know it’s a sham.’

‘And the matchmaking will start?’ Harry picks up a blue cheese canapé from a passing, floating tray and decides to stuff his face and stop worrying about the weird games Malfoys play.

‘I’m talking about the gossip pages. It’ll only take a comment from Mother to the right ear and our charade will end up in the Evening Prophet. “Rumour has it all isn’t what it seems with a famous new couple.” Is that what you want? A week before the game against your ex? A week before the gala of the year?’

Harry stiffens and abandons the canapé. If this is exposed, he won’t be able to face Will ever again and, unfortunately, with the number of injuries he sustains in his work, avoiding him forever isn’t feasible. ‘What can we do?’

‘It’s time for drastic measures.’ Malfoy pulls Harry out of the living room and into a corridor of thick carpets, green potted plants and snoring portraits. ‘Here is fine.’ He drags Harry in a shadowy corner.

‘For what?’

‘We’ll pretend we were caught in a sexual act. The papers will be more interested in printing this kind of gossip instead of whatever my mother decides to tell them.’

‘And so we have to … fake…?’

Malfoy blushes. ‘Is that OK? It only has to appear real, I wouldn’t ask you to—’ Looking at his feet, he says, ‘Actually, it’s a silly idea—’

‘Someone’s coming,’ Harry interrupts him and pushes him against the wall. Malfoy’s deep blush spreads to his neck. ‘Never had you for a prude,’ Harry says, his voice low.

‘I’m not a prude,’ Malfoy murmurs. ‘Hm, that was Mrs Glendows, blind as a bat. Not much help—’

Harry doesn’t move back. ‘Well, someone else will come along now. I think I can hear footsteps.’

They stay still, but no one comes. Harry breathes against Malfoy’s jaw. The desire that coils in the pit of his stomach doesn’t surprise him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s aware he’s craved this for some time now. He knows he can’t kiss Malfoy, though. It’s the one thing he’s not allowed to do. Hesitant, not sure if he’s overstepping his mark, he lifts his hand and traces Malfoy’s lips with his thumb. Malfoy gasps, his chest rising and falling, his eyes wide. He parts his mouth just a little.

Harry would like to slip his finger inside Malfoy’s mouth, but he realizes how inappropriate it is. He steps back, but then someone is truly coming and Malfoy cranes his neck and confirms. ‘Mr Witherbore. Biggest gossip in town.’ He sounds breathless.

‘How do we do this?’

Malfoy’s voice is low and raspy and yet he still manages to sneer at Harry. ‘How do people do this, Potter? Need instructions?’ He unbuttons three buttons of his shirt and unzips his trousers. Holy moly mother of Merlin. Harry forces himself to stare at Malfoy’s eyes, and not the line of golden hair disappearing under the waistband of his Calvins.

‘Make some noise,’ Malfoy advises.

Harry moans, a little too loudly, and Malfoy snorts. ‘Not like that. More… natural.’ He smirks, a little affectionately.

Harry retorts, ‘You do it then, if you’re so good.’

Malfoy wraps an arm around his waist. Nuzzling Harry’s neck, he lets out a soft moan, which makes Harry’s hair stand on end.

Malfoy moves his hips slowly, keeping them an inch away from Harry’s, and gasps in his ear, just like the time Harry overheard him in the club toilets. He runs a hand in Harry’s hair and moans again.

Fuck. Harry’s getting hard. He’s got a fucking boner and Malfoy will taunt him forever if he catches wind of it. The footsteps are coming closer and Harry leans in and smells Malfoy’s neck, his enticing scent emanating from the smooth skin. A kiss on Malfoy’s neck has Malfoy gasp — this time for real, Harry thinks — he’s starting to confuse what is real and what isn’t. Lust sweeps through him at the sight of Malfoy’s lean hips grinding slowly, not quite touching Harry, and he slips a hand under Malfoy’s shirt, tracing his back. Back caressing is allowed, he reminds himself. Malfoy’s skin is hot and Harry shivers. He leaves a trail of kisses on Malfoy’s neck.

‘Harry,’ Malfoy murmurs.

Their clothes rustle as Harry presses closer, chest to chest, but he tries to angle his hips away, desperately hoping Malfoy won’t feel his hard-on. The footsteps have faltered and he knows he needs to give a good show, but all he can do is restrain himself from humping Malfoy for real. His nails leave marks on Malfoy’s back in an effort to rein in his hunger for more.

Malfoy gives Harry a look that has his heart fluttering. How can he fake such lust? ‘Harry,’ he breathes again, his face an inch away.

Fuck it. Fuck all of it. Dizzy with desire, unable to stop himself, Harry presses his pelvis against Malfoy’s thigh and grinds, the feeling of bliss making his knees weak.

His fingers bruise Malfoy’s arms, his mouth sucks at his neck. Malfoy’s panting now, and Harry’s thrilled to feel him hard as well.

He wants to touch his cock, he’s desperate, but Malfoy hadn’t mentioned cocks in their agreement and Harry’s sure it’s out of the question, but he wants it, he wants it so badly.

He bites Malfoy’s neck in frustration and Malfoy gasps, loud and excited, a grin on his face, which turns soft and yearning. He cups Harry’s chin, his eyes flicking on Harry’s mouth.

Another cough. Insistent this time. Harry becomes aware that a figure is on the edge of his sight, just a couple of feet away from the corner they’re in. Reality rushes in. Harry draws back. Malfoy buttons himself up, his hands shaking, hair falling on his forehead, looking thoroughly debauched. ‘Mother,’ his voice rings out. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

Harry surreptitiously adjusts his trousers to hide his erection. The fact that this was a performance hasn’t wilted it one bit. He’ll need to excuse himself for the nearest loo and take care of it.

‘Mr Witherbore saw fit to tell me that my only son has succumbed to his “animal urges” by the south staircase. Well. I must congratulate you, Draco. It was quite a show.’

‘It’s unfortunate that Mr Witherbore had to bear witness to my desire for my boyfriend. I do hope he won’t talk to any reporters. Now if you’ll excuse me.’

He disappears down the corridor, leaving Harry alone with Narcissa.

#dirtynumbangelboy #Author: magpie_fngrl #Drarry #Drarry fic rec #fic rec #Drarry squad #Drarry fake dating #Drarry fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #harry potter #Ao bookmark fic rec no 172 #Carey's bookmark fic recs #Carey's personal Bookmarks #My recs

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simplyconstellation-blog · 7 years ago

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Trapped (A Drarry Fanfic)

SUMMARY: Harry and Draco get locked in a mysterious room at Hogwarts with nothing to do.

Chapter 1: "Locked In"

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have always gotten off on the wrong foot, from the embarrassing offer of friendship (which left the one boy quite embarrassed and upset, he had always heard his father talk about the 'great' Harry Potter and figured he'd try to make a new friend. Unfortunately that didn't go very well) to the teasing and quite frequent fights they shared through out many years. And even after the war with Voldemort and the fact that they were on opposite sides further pushed the two boys apart. So when Harry and Draco came back to school for an 8th year the rivalry continued.

Harry was exhausted, he spent the majority of his night doing homework he left till last minute to do. He currently sat uncomfortably in a small wooden chair in defense against the dark arts, a class he was already acing due to the whole 'killing the darkest wizard of his time in a war' thing, so when he began to nod asleep he couldn't help himself.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep but when he woke, class was still going. A paper bird sat on his desk, pecking at him. That must've been what woke him up. He looked around the room and met eyes with Draco Malfoy, who sneered at him. A small smirk also joining in.

Harry sighed, he was annoyed and already knew what the paper would be. So when he opened it, he glared back at Malfoy who just laughed with his friend Blaise Zabini.

On the paper was a drawing of Harry, who seemed to be falling off his broom and landing in Neville Longbottom's arms who then kissed him. The drawing was very good, though he'd never admit it to the other boy. Neville was one of his best mates and the drawing no matter how good, made him angry.

Neville had recently been outed as gay when a love letter he was sending to some boy was dropped from his bag and read out loud. He was embarrassed but when so many people were supportive he got more comfortable with everyone knowing. Though that didn't stop the occasional teasing. The drawing was obviously another example of that.

"What's that?" Ron asked when he noticed the paper in Harry's hand.

"Just Malfoy being a complete ass". He burned the paper with a flick of his wand and rolled his eyes.

"Very good Mr.Potter! That was a perfect example of the spell we've been learning today. Care to demonstrate for the rest of the class?" The professor questioned and clapped his hands excitedly.

Harry sighed and stood up, he got to demonstrate any time they were learning something new. It was quite annoying actually. He wanted to drop the class but he needed it to become an auror. So he just shut up and tried to get through it.

Malfoy snickered as Harry perfectly lit another fire and extinguished it. Damn git.

As the bell rang, signaling class was over, Draco picked up his books placing them in his bag over his shoulder and left, his walk a strut of confidence. He always kept a sketchbook and pencil on him to draw. Though he didn't let people know it was one of his favorite hobbies. That would be to embarrassing.

Harry followed the Slytherin, set on confronting him because of the rude drawing.

"I'll meet you in class, Ron" He told the ginger.

"Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn't pick a fight with Malfoy, and instead come to class.." Ron suggested. Ever since he and Hermione had started dating he had gotten more mature, though not completely. Sometimes it bugged Harry but mostly he appreciated the fact that Ronald had grown up a tad.

"I'm sure, if the teacher asks say I went to the infirmary because I had a migraine or something. Thanks mate!" And with that Harry continued to follow Draco.

He managed to follow him through the corridors and up many flights of stairs before Draco stopped to look at him.

"What do you want, Potter? And why are you following me? Did you like the drawing too much and hope to get some more for your wall?" He teased.

Harry stepped forward so he was on the same staircase as Draco. "Actually, quite the opposite. I get it that you're this huge jerk Malfoy but making fun of Neville for his sexuality is too far. Even for you".

He smirked in return, "Oh really? And how exactly do you know what's too far for me, Potter?" Draco stepped closer to the other boy.

"What I'm saying is you need to screw off with the homophobia, before I make you." Harry ground his teeth angrily and rested his hand on his wand inside his robe.

He laughed, "And what are you going to do about it?" His hand also connected to his wand.

"This! STUPEFY!" Harry's wand lit up but before it shot towards the blonde, the stair case began to move causing the two of them to stumble and grab onto the railing. The spell missing Draco and causing a loose stone from another staircase to go flying in a random direction.

Eventually the stair case came to a rough stop.

Draco was the first to stand and brushed himself off as he replaced the startled look on his face with a calm one. He looked down at Harry who was just beginning to stand up again.

"Now, if you'll excuse me from this stupid fight, I'm leaving before the stairs move again!" He strode up the stairs and stopped in front of the tall wooden door.

"This is not a stupid fight Malfoy!" Harry followed the other up the stairs and nearly bumped into him before he realized he had stopped. "What are you doing?"

"Have you ever seen this door before?" He questioned, and glanced around himself at the surrounding area. "I don't think I've ever been to this part of the castle before.."

"I don't know, probably?" Harry's voice was annoyed and confused.

A rumbling behind them caused them to turn quickly, the stair cases were changing again. And much to their dislike, no other stairs reappeared at the landing.

"Doesn't matter now, we have to go through. Now hurry up Malfoy, I have class and I'd rather not stay here with you." Harry groaned.

Draco just rolled his eyes and opened the door. The two of them walked in.

The room was relatively small with dark hardwood flooring, maroon painted walls, some furniture, and no windows, which was weird. Even if you were in a room at the center of Hogwarts there would be a conjured window, a fake one to make the room feel bigger and less cramped.

The two of them walked in farther.

"I've been to every part of this castle and never have I seen this room." Draco studied the room cautiously. There were some bookshelves that seemed to be dust free when he wiped his finger on the wood.

"Me neither... this is weird. I'm leaving. I'll just wait for another staircase to show up." Harry turned to leave and stopped as he faced the door. He turned the handle, well tried to but it didn't budge. He began to panic.

"Uhh... Malfoy?" Harry's words were of concern.

"What do you want Potter? Just leave already, your voice gives me a head ache." Draco turned to him.

"The uh.. the door won't open." He struggled with the nob but it still didn't budge.

Draco's eyes grew wide and he rushed to the door, pushing the other boy out of his way. He tried the handle himself but still nothing. "Alohamora!" A light hit the door from his wand but had no effect. He began banging on the door hoping someone would hear and help.

The two panicked as a realization set in,

They. Were. Trapped.

#drarry #drarryfanfic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #hogwarts #lgbtq #fanfiction #harry potter #harrypotter #harry x draco #fanfic #wizard #hp #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic rec #magic #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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