daydreamsinrosie

[daydreamsinrosie]

Competition: Draco Malfoy x HP’s sister! Reader headcanon, Part 1.

Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this off the wall impulsive thought that I had to write out! Let me know if you would like a part 2 😊.

Themes: Harry is a distant brother, Draco bullying the reader a little, feeling isolated/unwanted, tension!!! (Not sexual).

Being the twin sister of the boy who lived doesn’t live up to the supposed title. In fact it means nothing when you were raised separately and behave simply as strangers towards each other.

Never mind being placed in a different house, finding yourself growing up in the walls of Ravenclaw tower with books and a couple of companions as friends.

However, one way you stand out is your intelligence. Smart is an understatement when you’re regularly competing for the top grades and have your praises sang by Professor McGonnagall, drawing the ire of Hermione and half of Gryffindor House.

“Exceptional. Some of you would be wise to follow Miss Y/N’s lead”. The statement wasn’t enough to hide Snape’s disdain of having to be nice for once, resulting in a small laugh from you and then you getting detention reorganising the potions stores for supposed “immaturity”.

Despite the accolades, you can say you fall under the radar and mainly prefer this. Five years in and you know your place at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy however, doesn’t.

Draco isn’t sure what kicked in during third year, but all of a sudden you became the subject of his greatest desire and the bane of his existence simultaneously.

Of course, he can’t admit that.

He can’t admit that the flush on your cheeks when you answer questions slightly nervously in class gives him a feeling of pride that he can’t explain.

Or that seeing you dance with a Hufflepuff keeper at the Yule Ball led him to almost throwing his drink on any Slytherin who dared tease him about it.

And he definitely can’t admit that watching you play quidditch as Ravenclaw’s star chaser heats his entire body up and he now struggles to look away from you whenever you were near each other.

So how has he gone about showing any feelings towards you all these years? Bullying, namely.

“Professor Snape! Y/N over here has brother dearest’s penchant for attention seeking, just look at what she’s tried to do with her Sleeping Draught!”

In reality, you had just followed the instructions but had attempted to also brew a remedy to repel any sluggishness from the potion.

“Five points from Ravenclaw for sheer cheek, you should know better than to think fame would work on me.”

Or the countless times he’s jinxed your legs in the hallways to where you simply cannot walk without tripping over yourself or someone else.

Or most painfully, the times he’s used Harry’s obvious disinterest in you as a talking point.

“At least brother Potter knows better than to associate with a teachers pet who eats lunch alone. You’re telling me even the ghosts don’t find you good enough company?”

You can say that you’ve been strong enough to handle most of this, but seeing a look in Harry’s eyes where he’s essentially admitting to agreeing with Malfoy was enough to bring you to tears several times.

Right now it’s the start of fifth year.

Draco’s prefect badge is glossy and reflects brightly on his green robes, and he’s ready to solidify his authority whilst waiting in the prefect’s carriage with Pansy gripping his arm for dear life.

What he doesn’t anticipate is seeing you walk through a few moments later, with a blue and bronze badge mirroring his and a small proud smile on your lips as you sit separately from the other prefects.

Truth is, it’s terrifying to be surrounded by people you know that don’t like you, but fake it till you make it right?

Not so easy to do when you get mainly the same patrolling times to Draco and he ruthlessly persues underclass men.

“Detention to you for liking the Weasley’s, and detention to you because a Hufflepuff staying in the greenhouse past curfew sounds lame.”

“Malfoy, they’re only first years.”

“Want me to give you detention for undermining your authority as prefect, Potter?”

You genuinely didn’t have a response to something so stupid, but sheer embarrassment doesn’t stop you from facing Malfoy directly and simply saying “I dare you.”

And from that evening forward, Draco does what he can to push you into confronting him as often as possible, only to turn the tables and create tension that neither of you can easily rid of.

Some evenings whilst checking classrooms, Draco has you pushed against a table wanting to see you push against him and see a familiar pink blush crawl across your cheeks.

Other evenings it’s flirting with you, only to turn it around and attempt to remind you (and possibly himself) that it means nothing and that he’d rather swallow bubotuber puss than be attracted to you.

And suddenly it’s later in term, post Ravenclaw and Slytherin match in which you contributed to the house’s 100 point lead before the snitch was caught, and now tasked with locating any rogue students switching between common rooms at late-night parties.

Despite assumptions otherwise, Ravenclaw and Slytherin students get along fairly well. Maybe a little too well because Filch and Umbridge seem to have problems with “endless snogging.”

It’s a phrase so daft it gets a laugh out of you and Draco, and suddenly he senses an opportunity.

“I wonder what they would think of the two prefects who also play quidditch snogging in the corridor.”

Thankfully you recognise it as bait.

“If only one of the prefects wasn’t an insufferable toad, that could work.”

“A Toad?”

“Worse than a ferret, I presume.”

And now you’re pushed against a wall with barely any air between you both with a glint in Draco’s eyes and his arms on either side of your head.

You’re not sure if it’s the forced proximity from being so close across this first term, but you recognise just how sharp his jaw has gotten.

And you also recognise how easily he can keep you close to him, his lips only an inch away.

Maybe having someone to snog isn’t such a bad thing really.

“I can promise you, you will regret those words.”

“Really? And how are you supposed to do that, Malfoy.”

Draco doesn’t know it’s the confidence in your voice or the look of determination, but he can’t help himself and before he can argue with himself his lips are on yours.

He’s rough, holding your face in his hands and making sure your lips follow his as you instantly melt.

Time doesn’t exist in the minutes between you two as you both focus on nothing but each other, moving your hands to feel the strength of his arms and wanting nothing more than bringing Draco closer to you.

A second passes and his lips briefly leaves yours, whispering “jump”.

You don’t need to be told twice, and now your legs are wrapped around his waist and his lips meet yours again.

Neither of you want to admit it, but you’re both dreading the moment this is going to end.

[daydreamsinrosie]

Whispers in the corridor: Harry Potter x Reader

Chapter 1: No Further Questions.

Pairing: Professor! Harry Potter x Professor! Reader

Genres:Slice of Life, Mystery, Romance, Eventual Smut

Synopsis: Four years after leaving Hogwarts and you found yourself back as a potions teaching assistant, leading research on innovative healing techniques. Settling in felt like a fresh start, until your unrequited love returns after leaving the Ministry of Magic in disgrace. How long until you find yourself tending to his wounds, in sickness and in health?

Authors note: if you’ve seen this premise from me but as a Sebastian Sallow x reader then please know that fic has died as I disappeared and couldn’t find the motivation to continue 😂, but I’m hoping recycling this plot into a Harry fic may allow for more creativity and this can get further than two chapters LOL.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The ambience of faint footsteps from the dungeon corridors emanate as I settle amongst the rolls of parchment in the empty potions classroom, ready to start marking the student assignments on the uses of Shrivelfig in elemental potions.

Taking a nursing placement at St. Mungo's with the promising of healing ailments of wizarding society's most vulnerable felt like my calling after the trauma of the Second Wizarding War, but immersing myself amongst the worst maladies left me ruminating on the pain internally that had yet to heal and sometimes during restless nights I could still hear the endless screams of grieving families.

And now I'm back in Professor Slughorn's classroom, having returned with curious looks from the faculty. I'm now a teaching assistant for potions class, leading on research into new and novel healing techniques enhanced by alchemy whilst being an open book for any curious student.

The faint glow of floating candles informs me it's now late evening and I decompress with a long stretch to ease my regular problem of poor posture whilst grading homework when I'm distracted by a familiar voice.

"Dobby would like to ask if Miss Dotty wants to request anything from the kitchens."

The house-elf, still maintaining his aura of effervescence with a multi-coloured bobby hat and mismatched boots looks up at me with eagerness.

"Of course Dobby, an Earl-Grey tea and any leftover Treacle Tart from tonight's feast please."

"And some beef-stew dear Donnie boy!"

Slughorn marks his return to the classroom with his esteemed ability to misidentify most of us.

"Donnie will return momentarily!" Quickly disapparating to appease our growing appetites.

"Dotty my dear, shouldn't you have returned to the Faculty wing by now?"

I let out a small sigh from the nickname from my school years that seems to stick.

"I didn't realise that my nickname has followed me into my adult years Professor."

The nickname Dotty, whilst adorable sounding at first, has an embarrassing backstory I still can't manage to escape.

***

It's sixth-year and the first lesson of N.E.W.T potions, and Professor Slughorn is finishing his explanation regarding the allure of Amortentia.

"Now, Amortentia doesn't create actual love, that would be impossible. But it does cause powerful infatuation or obsession and for that reason... it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room."

"Now who would like to volunteer their thoughts, ah! Y/N, care to explain what you smell?"

I'm ashamed to admit that the butterflies fluttering in my stomach led to a lapse in judgement as I happily nodded and made my way to the bubbling cauldron.

"Well sir, I smell Broom polish, Butterbeer and warm vanilla...".

The embarrassment didn't reach my cheeks until the classroom door swung open to showcase a dishevelled Harry and Ron entering the classroom, clearly showcasing their confusion if they should have even been there or not.

But that wasn't enough to stop the slight giggles of a few Gryffindors, namely Hermione and Seamus Finnigan who clearly knew who I was referring to. Hermioned commented on my aloof nature in the moment and called me dotty, and it's stuck ever since.

***

"Well there is much to take from the moments we enjoy wandering in our imagination. Now where did I leave those blasted leaping toadstools..."

I return back to grading homework, trying to ignore the warmth I feel on my cheeks.

Slughorn is still trawling through the store room when Dobby reappears with our dinner for the evening, alongside a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Miss Dotty! Dobby thinks Miss Dotty will be interested in this news!"

The house-elf quickly yet gently holds his arm out to hand me the newspaper whilst I hear a faint "ah!", from the store room.

"Of course Dobby, thank you. Now why don't you head back and persuade Winky to take a short break from her evening shift for me."

"Yes Miss Dotty, Dobby loves to encourage a work-life balance!", followed by a poof of air.

The steaming mug of tea feels inviting as I reach for it and take a sip, looking towards the crumpled newspaper to reach today's headline:

"Fallen Angels? Elite Auror Wing at the Ministry fall foul of Dark Magic use."

Knowing the history of the Ministry of Magic, even in a post-war world many of its employees would prefer to swallow a spider fang than admit to any shortcomings. You would presume a desire for greater transparency if it weren't for the bags of galleons still making their way to prominent columnists.

"It can be confirmed by an inside source that a group of 5 elite aurors referred to under the codename 'Fallen Angels' have found themselves at the centre of a dispute regarding the use of unregulated dark magic.

Witnesses across the southern coast of the Scottish Highlands acknowledged lingering effects of an unforgivable curse amongst an innocent bystander alongside a dazed Troll who wreaked havoc and ultimately was stunned and handed a heft dose of a potion for dreamless sleep by trained ministry professionals. 

The Ministry of Magic have confirmed a 'regrettable' breach of the code of Magical conduct amongst the accused, led by none other than the former 'Chosen One' Harry Potter, who was once labelled an auror prodigy given his story and eventual triumph against the Dark Lord. While the extent of their behaviour remains under seal, all five have been fired with immediate effect."

A small bout of butterflies fill my stomach as I read over the brief statement again. We all expected to hear about Harry's rapid ascent through the Ministry, but it wasn't supposed to be this.

***

Three years ago.

"I can't think of what the world is going to look like after this. Me, going through the ministry ladder like a regular wizard and simply not being known as the Chosen One?"

I can't tell whether it's contempt or sadness affecting him at the moment, as we sit amongst the winding staircase of Ravenclaw Tower the day before we were due home at the end of our sixth year. It was the last time I got to see him before the battle.

"Normality is something I'm looking forward to honestly, maybe I can be relieved of my parents' expectations and being a pureblood doesn't control my future decisions anymore."

It was always the sticking point in my friendship with Harry. Not necessarily being an incredibly shy Gryffindor who regularly competed with Hermione for top grades, and not competing as a chaser in the same team that ignited a professional and personal friendship. And not even a close connection with Harry that was independent of the Golden Trio and their inner circle that straddled the lines between friendship and something more. 

But my status as a pureblood, and having parents sympathetic to Voldemort's ideology. Granted they were too cowardly to join the ranks of Death Eaters, but the pressure of controlling my ability to experience the world lead to a strain that I was too exhausted to repair once Voldemort was defeated.

"A husband, kids and a home to call yours, Dotty?"

I didn't know what to say knowing he knew of my nickname, but I couldn't help but giggle at it despite pleading inside that he wasn't aware of the context behind it.

"Maybe. I'd want something to call mine, be it a career, a home or someone. Just something beyond this."

It was a small moment of vulnerability and I couldn't help but feel meek as I grasped onto the piece of silver jewellery in the palm of my hand with the knowledge that I couldn't do more to support him in the moment, and that his future plans likely wouldn't include me.

"One day after everything, we'll have something to hold on to. It's a feeling Dumbledore clearly never let go of, and it's something he wanted me to continue in a way."

I could tell he was exasperated saying that given the pressure in having to find a sliver of light in dark times, but there was a glimmer of peace in his green eyes as he looked directly at me.

A moment passed by in silence, and before the clock struck midnight and I had to return to the common room I had to do one last thing.

"Harry."

I force myself to look at him as I whisper his name, not knowing how my emotions were going to control me in the moment.

"I, uhm, I have something for you."

"Oh?" His expression softened a little as I relaxed the strain in my right hand, opening to showcase a pendant with a golden snitch charm crafted in Sterling Silver. My nerves lessened slightly as I glanced at his questioning look, knowing that if it's from me then it must have a practical use.

"It's charmed. If you find yourself taking on any more cursed professors or you're stuck in battle, you can press down on the Snitch to release a small dose of dittany leaves to help heal any pain or minor injuries.

If anything, I hope it's a reminder of me and a reminder that our friendship wasn't in vain. You'll always have a piece of me regardless of where you go."

I took a breath to let out the rest of my nerves as I waited for a response. Did it mean anything to be so vulnerable at that point?

I could feel tears welling in my eyes and felt like I needed the last say, so I stood up and let Harry know:

"Goodbye Harry. You'll always have a supporter in me."

***

The Next Day.

There is a certain buzz within the staff corridor as I wait by the main staircase for an urgent announcement. A typically quiet morning has now been replaced with owls flying in every direction and questioning looks from myself and others who only know of an affair of the 'utmost importance'. 

"If I'm honest, I think I would be relaxed sitting amongst the new patch of Mandrake seedlings I've laid in the Greenhouse."

The character development of Neville, now Professor Longbottom brings a small laugh out of me. Normally we aim to be an example for students by maintaining a sense of calm but this is one of the rare times where the uncertainty of the outside world could be felt within the castle's walls.

There's a little more idle chatter before Headmistress McGonnagall makes her stance known at the top of the staircase, a look of rigid determination on her face. A couple of clearly overwhelmed house-elves follow behind, hidden by leaning towers of parchment that almost shield the looks of distress on their faces whilst they almost try to address queries of the large audience as McGonnagall walks a few steps forward and announces:

"Good morning everyone. I'm sure you all have heard of the recent news regarding the one of the Ministry's most esteemed auror divisions being dismantled due to unlawful conduct. Whilst this school has an established and courteous relationship with the Ministry, I am also of the belief there are moments where we need to stand up for our own students, especially those who guided us through momentous periods of upheaval.

And there it was. Four years after attempting to let go of an underlying heartache and it's already back.

Invoking the chivalry and rebellious nature of Godric Gryffindor specifically, this decision has been made in the context of this transitionary period our society is currently in."

The atmosphere was beginning to feel tense, and as I briefly look around I have a feeling some of the other faculty members have immediately caught on to what the Headmistress is alluding to. I can feel my heart beat start to pick up and just need McGonnagall to say it out loud.

"With the current vacancy of a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, I'm pleased to announce that one of our recent graduates, Harry Potter will be taking the position and is due to start within the coming week. I will take no questions regarding this, and I expect you all to provide a courteous welcome.

I will be taking no further questions on this matter. Meeting dismissed."