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[fivenightslaughter]

Wicked Serpentine (Part 8)

pairing: draco malfoy x femravenclaw!oc (some like george weasley x femravenclaw!oc too)

summary: slowburn enemies to lovers fic, a TON of parts. (continued after ... 3 years..) i'm back lol)

warnings: blood purism, bullying, swearing, descriptive physical danger, violence. Awful Draco

taglist: @gloryekaterina

taglist: let me know if you’re interested in being added!

Roughly a month had gone by, my last real interaction with Malfoy being my first school day in the Great Hall.

Snape had reassigned partners and tables after only the first day, likely due to Harry and Ron’s noise from the first class. I was paired with Hermione, thankfully. She was pleasantly quiet but helpful when she needed to be. My friendship with her had furthered quite a bit, but less so with the boys. I wasn’t actively attempting to befriend Harry after Snape’s hostility.

Flitwick and I hit it off and he quickly became my runner-up favorite teacher, just behind Snape. I frequently stayed behind in his classroom to discuss muggle music and the world as a whole. It was the only part of my day I could get truly lost in.

I’d eventually learned the schedules of Luna and Cho, sitting with them on days they’d be in the dining hall. Rarely was my attention drawn to the blond across the hall on the days he was there, either. He’d been looking rather sick, lately.

Not that I actively tried to look at him.

It just struck me whenever I’d happen to catch his silvery strands in my peripheral. His face looked sunken, his cheeks hollow. Instead of marble, he looked almost grey. It made my heart hurt a little. How could someone look so ghostly, as if he was always floating? It reminded me of a dried volcano, stiff and cold.

His head bobbed up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since I’d walked off from him a month ago.

“Eris?” A voice snapped me back to the present. It was Hermione. She had said something that I didn’t catch at all.

I looked at her, my mouth slightly parted. Dumbly, I replied, “Huh?”

She gave me a small laugh and stabbed at her food, cocking her head to the side exasperatedly.

“I said, Snape is assigning new partners, something about people falling behind already. I’ll miss the quiet of sitting next to you. Seriously, I will.” She let her shoulders droop sadly, a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

I heard her teeth slide on the fork as she ate, mildly sullen. I felt bad. I hadn’t even known we were switching partners, I must have been too caught up during potions to hear Snape mention the change.

“Hey, we’ll still eat together. Maybe I’ll kick Ron out of his seat every once in a while.” I joked. Her mood seemed to perk back up a bit at that, nodding.

“That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it, Ron?” She nudged him jokingly.

He whipped his neck to face her, food falling out of his mouth. He was too busy talking to Harry to notice our conversation, so he looked absolutely lost.

“Wha…?” Food tumbled from his mouth. I groaned and Hermione bit her lip in a laugh. The way she looked at him was cute, a twinkle in her eyes lighting as if everything he did was enchanting.

“Nothing, Ronald. Just… Chew your bloody food!” She choked out, noticing the knowing smile I was giving her halfway through her sentence.

He scrunched his nose up, confused and annoyed. He finished, crumbs still dusting his lips.

“Whatever, ‘Mione.” He dismissed, turning back to Harry. They were discussing something Quidditch related.

She exhaled through her nose, rolling her eyes. I watched as she packed her sprawled books and papers into her bag, deep in her thoughts.

Her eyes lit up for a moment and she immediately looked back at me.

“Oh! I almost forgot. We all have lessons but you’re free after this, right? Snape said he’d post a parchment outside his room with the partners. You should check it out.” She beamed.

I paused in thought for a second. Should I go check? I shrugged.

“Yeah, sure. I will.” I saw no harm in making my way to the classroom. I’d gotten a much better hang of the hallways to my classes and the library. The dungeons and the Room of Requirement remained untraveled for now, the map buried in the bottom of my bag. I’d taken it out to mark it up whenever I discovered a new direction or an alternate way to a class.

It was incredibly helpful and I was glad I befriended Hermione. Maybe I could go check out partners and find her later to let her know who she got. I’m sure she’d appreciate knowing beforehand what she was in for.

Satisfied, she dropped her last book in her bag and stood.

“Right, well I’ll see you!” She waved farewell, already taking off from the table. Ron and Harry were still engrossed in their conversation about Quidditch. I tuned in, a name immediately catching my ear.

“Of course we’ll win, Harry. Malfoy’s played like shit lately. Serves him right, bloody bastard.” Ron bragged. Harry nodded in response, noticing my sudden interest in the conversation.

“Eris, you haven’t been to a Quidditch game yet, have you?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Ah, no I haven’t.” I sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck. I didn’t have an intense interest in sports in the muggle world and wasn’t sure how much more exciting they could be in the wizarding world, so it hadn’t piqued my interest.

Harry’s head leaned against his hand and he seemed to nod slowly for a second before smacking his hands on the table.

“Come to the game today. I’ll ask Hermione to save you a seat.” He mused decidedly. Ron shrugged, agreeing.

“Okay, sure. I’ll come then.” I confirmed.

Glad at my response, he turned his attention back to Ron.

“Ready to go?” He asked him.

They got up and left for their next lesson, which I’m pretty sure was a history class I’d often heard them complain about. I still sat, popping a final piece of food into my mouth. I planned out my route in my head. First to Snape’s, then to the library to study intensively.

It felt like a solid enough plan.

I stood and left the hall, making sure I didn’t leave anything at the table. I made my way to Snape’s classroom. It was a different way than when I’d originally followed Malfoy and I was grateful I didn’t have to relive my cowardice every time I went to Potions in the mornings.

The clock tower chimed while I was walking and people pushed by me as I made my way down the hallways. Some people stood idly and hung out with one another, sitting in window sills or quickly scurrying somewhere.

I watched a class fill into Snape’s classroom and I walked up to the doorway. A small plaque with a scroll of parchment hung on the wall.

“FIRST PERIOD PARTNERS

HERMIONE GRANGER - NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

HARRY POTTER - SEAMUS FINNIGAN

RONALD WEASLEY - PADMA PATIL

ERIS WOODWORK - DRACO MALFOY “

There was more, but my heart stuck in my throat. This couldn’t be real. I reread it several times, finally making my way to the bottom.

There was a tiny footnote stating partner changes were not permitted and must remain as written on the parchment. I felt myself shrink. Maybe Snape didn’t know how bad Malfoy would treat me?

I shook my head at the thought. It was quite obvious how poorly he treated everyone. Just because my interactions with him have been few and far between doesn’t mean he didn’t endlessly snip at other people.

In fact, the only times I ever heard his voice was when he was chastising Harry or Hermione, or making a comment about how Ron lives in squalor. It was unpleasant but at the very least I could be glad it wasn’t directed towards me.

I dreaded this partnership, but at least now I’d read the list like I said I would. Later, I’d be able to tell Hermione and the boys who they’d been partnered with.

I took off to the library, my mind spinning. I accidentally bumped into someone in the hallway and his hands shot out to steady my shoulders before I could fall to the ground. I recognized him as Malfoy’s original partner in Potions.

He eyed me up and down, removing his hands once I was steady. I vaguely recalled Ron calling him Zabini.

“Be careful. Never know who you’ll run into in these halls. You’re lucky it was me.” He spoke smugly, clearly a bit vain.

I raised an eyebrow at him, nodding.

“Yeah, I’ll be more careful.” I replied. I started to walk off when he spoke, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Fuckin’ better be.” Was all he said as he continued to walk as well.

It unsettled me in the weird way that Slytherins were good at. A switch seemed glued to their emotions, fully able to flip at any time. It was startling. A chill eased down my spine and I hurried toward the library, no longer taking my time as I had before.

Finally arriving a bit breathless, I entered the space that had become most familiar to me over the last month. Giving a nod in Madam Pince’s direction, she gave me a puckered and stiff smile.

She was an intolerable vulture that only cared for her books, but I’d come to be in her relatively good graces. With my quiet presence and care for the texts, I was often the only one in the library with her. In her own way, I think she kind of liked me there.

Tucking into my usual space behind a few large bookshelves, I pulled a lesson book out of my school bag, along with a parchment and quill. We had just gone over a new spell in Flitwick’s class and I was determined to study it down to every flick of the wand.

A seat pulled out beside me and a book dropped down onto the table just loud enough for me to wince. I glanced over. It was “Libatius Borage’s ADVANCED POTION MAKING” book. I recognized it from my class with Snape.

I watched black robes swish down into the seat beside me, defeated looking. My surprise was immeasurable when I met empty, silvery eyes and messy moonbeam-colored hair. I couldn’t stifle a tiny gasp that slipped from my lips.

“Malfoy…?”

He leaned his head back against the top of the chair, remaining in quiet for what felt like a couple minutes as I dumbfoundedly stared at him. Seeming to find his resolve, he sat up. He leaned forward towards the table and didn’t meet my eyes again.

“Snape reassigned everyone because of me.” He stated. He was looking straight ahead, his eyes travelling up the spines of books in front of the table we were at. It felt wrong hearing a real sentence from him, especially one that wasn’t littered with insults.

“He thinks I’m fucking falling behind.” He was the second Slytherin I’d heard swear today, but his anger didn't quite reach his eyes. I watched a stray strand of hair fall from his slicked back ones, lightly resting on his forehead. He looked hopelessly disheveled the longer I looked at him.

My eyebrows knit together with concern.

“Are you okay, Draco?” I tried to be genuine, my voice soft and low. I barely breathed it and regretted it the second I said it as he flipped to face me. His lips were pressed in a tight line, chapped and pale.

“Don’t you dare call me by my first name, mudblood.” He snapped.

I felt my body tense up and my blood run cold at the tone he used. I desperately fought the water that immediately welled up in my eyes, coaching myself to just breathe carefully. I hoped he couldn’t tell how pathetic he made me feel. I just wanted to move on, now.

I decided that if he didn’t want my help, that he didn’t need it. There was nothing I could do to help him, and talking clearly wouldn’t solve anything. I wasn’t going to give him power over me, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I went on as normal. I focused back on the book for Flitwick’s, pulling my wand from my bag and placing it on the desk. Flitwick had even written a couple notes for me himself, explaining things in a better way the book could.

I had spoken to him about Scourgify, mentioning how Cho had done it and it was something I wanted to learn. He included notes about how to perform it, but I kept failing without a physical example of how to cast it.

All I had in my head was the memory of Cho, which I’d been too in shock from Malfoy’s prank to fully grasp the technique of. I had been trying to practice on dirty spoons I’d snagged from the Great Hall. I kept one wrapped in a fabric napkin and tucked into my bag, switching the spoon out for a different one each time I went to eat.

Ignoring the blond sitting next to me, I pulled the spoon out and placed it on the table in front of me. I unraveled it and there it was, just a gross spoon.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up my wand and reread Flitwick’s notes, as well as the pages in the textbook. Holding a book in one hand and my wand in the other steadily, I focused on the spoon.

“Scourgify.” I half whispered, trying to work with the tiny bit of light that sparked on my wand. I could never get farther than just a tiny emittance from my wand. It had been weeks and I still struggled to get it. It was clear from my frustration that this wasn’t the first time.

I heard a scoff from my side. I realized a set of steely eyes had focused on what I was doing as if I were some kind of entertainment. I ignored him, trying it again. And again.

I had attempted Scourgify on the spoon a good four times before he shot up out of his chair, blatantly annoyed.

“You’re literally doing everything wrong.” He muttered crossly.

I heaved a sigh, dropping my book to the table. I turned to put my wand away in my bag but he stopped me. He stood behind my chair, leaning over my shoulder. Mint and cologne overpowered my senses as he corrected me sourly.

“No, just… Merlin, you have to-” he grabbed my wrist and pointed towards the spoon, swishing my hand in a sort of ‘S’ shape. “Swish it, like this. Say it. Now.” He instructed rudely, guiding my hand to motion correctly. His cold, silver ring made me clench my wand as tightly as the night I’d got it.

“Scourgify.” I spoke boldly, jumping a slight bit as the grime left the spoon in an immediate little spark. I swallowed loudly, a disbelieving laugh bubbling softly through my lips. I turned my face to thank him before my mind could reject the idea.

However, when I turned, he had simply gone. I guess I was a bit glad he had disappeared, otherwise I would have proved his point by thanking him. Stroked his ego, probably.

I turned back to my book, writing down what I had just learned. I felt so excited and accomplished that I’d pushed away how weird that situation really was.

Did he really just grab my wrist like that? Why did he never seem to have a grasp on personal space? I tried to move on, finding the dustiest book I could find to try the spell again.

Much to my disappointment when, just as before, trying the spell only made my wand fizzle slightly.

Disappointed, I slumped down into my seat. I spent the next half hour trying to focus on Potions instead, opting to note things I noticed during class. Such as the physical traits of ingredients I was confused by.

Out of my peripheral, I noticed a light-blond head duck quietly from between some shelves, past me, and out of the library doors.

There was a book on the opposite end of the table that wasn’t there before.

I stood and walked over, picking it up. I flicked through it and much to my surprise, it was a Charms book. It was filled with neatly scribbled notes in the margins, shapes and arrows showing how to cast some simple charms I knew would get covered this year.

Some of the ink was slightly smeared a tiny bit, clearly brand new. Whereas other notes in it were old and the ink slightly faded.

Flipping to the very back cover, I read

‘If lost, return to Draco L. Malfoy’

in the same handwriting as the notes throughout, slightly faded.

What the hell?

A piece of parchment slipped from between some of the pages into my lap.

“You’re dense. Read my notes and maybe you won’t look so ridiculous.” It read.

That made much more sense. I guess I'll just... Study this all, then.

[fivenightslaughter]

Wicked Serpentine (Part 7)

pairing: draco malfoy x femravenclaw!oc summary: slowburn enemies to lovers fic, a TON of parts. (continued after ... 3 years..) i'm back lol)

general fic warnings: blood purism, bullying, swearing, descriptive physical danger, violence. Awful Draco

taglist: @gloryekaterina

taglist: let me know if you’re interested in being added!

The class had gone by rather quickly, my mind quickly diving into the work at hand. I very easily learned how to hold my wand and use it from Professor Flitwick. Not that it was relevant to the nonverbal spells we’d be learning, but he was kind enough to teach me regardless.

It was easy to talk to Flitwick considering he seemed to have an unquellable interest in the muggle world. He wanted to know what it was like to be unaware of magic for so long. I wasn’t sure if it was common knowledge among all my professors that I was an absolutely green witch, but I was glad I didn’t have to explain.

Instead, I was free to banter with him, speaking of food and music and dastardly chores from back home. He seemed particularly interested in music and we dove down a path of pop and the multitude of different artists that existed in the muggle world.

It was nice to get lost in that little world for a while before the clock chimed again, signalling for students to head to the dining hall.

At least this time, I’d be able to follow anyone here to the Great Hall and wouldn’t have to rely on… I stopped myself. I attempted to gloss over the way here in my head, deciding it was something to think about later. Or never.

Arriving, I was a bit bothered I didn’t see Cho anywhere. Nor could my eyes seek out a fizzly blonde with weird glasses perched atop her head. I only had seconds left before the bodies strolling by me would thin out and I’d be left alone and pitiful looking.

As if noticing my predicament, I recognized a voice calling my name. My eyes darted to the source and released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It was Harry. He was seated across from Ron, who sat next to a brown-haired girl I recognized as his partner from Potions.

I steadily walked over, finding a space next to Harry. The girl was nose deep in a book, leading me to double check the color of her school tie. How interesting.

Harry noticed my curiosity towards her and let a small laugh escape him.

“That’s Hermione. It’s a wonder she isn’t in your house.”

Her head darted up, glaring at him. She picked food off of her plate and took a few bites before responding.

“No it’s not, you’re just being rude.” She stated plainly.

She couldn’t help a smile from crossing her face as she rolled her eyes, finally looking over at me. She sat her book down in her lap and stretched her hand across the table to shake mine.

“Hermione Granger. Pleasure to meet you.”

I took her hand, feeling ease wash over me. She seemed sweet and genuine, the same as the two other Gryffindor’s I’d met so far. Maybe this house was tolerable. Or at least, she was.

“Eris Woodwork. The pleasure’s mine.” I managed, trying to copy the same warmth they had when they talked to people.

I heard Ron stifle a laugh and both Hermione and I turned questioningly. Harry seemed equally as amused, his elbows propped on the table with a fork paused in his hand as he turned to Ron.

“It’s… It’s like she’s multiplying! Blimey mate, it’s a bookworm invasion!” He exclaimed, a mock grief painting his face. Hermione elbowed him again as Harry pressed his knuckles against his own lips, hiding a smile.

She looked back down at her book and a half-smile ghosted her face.

“If you keep mucking about, your food will turn cold.” She spoke matter-of-factly.

I watched Ron’s eyes widen and his mouth open and close like a fish before he nodded and began digging into his plate like no tomorrow. It was quite an odd sight and I found it hard to tear my eyes away until Harry spoke.

“So Eris, are you enjoying Hogwarts so far? Sorry if Ron and I distracted you in Potions. I swear it won’t happen again.” His last note was tinged with a bit of shame and I met his eyes. I wasn’t expecting an apology but it was rather pleasant.

“It’s fine, really-”

Ron cut me off with his mouth full of food, his words muffled by what looked like mashed potatoes.

“It’sf…” He paused and chewed, shoveling more food in his mouth. “...all tha’ bloody nonce Malfoy’s fault,” was all I understood as he griped, the rest more nonsense than the first part. I felt myself visibly stiffen at the name.

Hermione exasperatedly slammed her book closed and pursed her lips, turning to Ron.

“No one can understand a bloody word from your mouth, you’re the nonce.”

He turned to her and pointed a finger at her, swallowing his latest bite.

“You understood the word nonce!”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and they bickered back and forth long enough for me to tune it into the rest of the Hall’s loud conversations. I began to zone out as I ate and Harry turned to face me in his seat in an attempt to continue the conversation Ron had cut through.

“Sorry again, he’s a bit loud.” He shrugged.

I nodded. I could tell that at least. I decided to pick through what I should tell him without saying too much. Finally, I decided to just remark on the school.

“I love it here so far, the school itself is just gorgeous.” I felt like a bit ingenuine choosing that reply, but thankfully Harry hadn’t noticed.

“Oh yeah, it really is.” He seemed to glance up at the windows and scan his eyes over the tables, his eyes halting harshly in one spot. I followed his gaze and my limbs locked.

He was staring directly at a particular blond-haired boy, who was laughing and smirking across the hall as if he’d just done the most dastardly thing. I could see a glint of hostility in Harry’s eyes and almost as if he felt the glare, Malfoy looked up.

His eyes met Harry’s and I could swear I felt immediate unease just being next to the recipient of his leering. It looked like nothing short of a distraction could break their ogling deathmatch, so I gently tapped his shoulder.

“Harry?”

He head snapped back to me, a tension inside him visibly dissolving. Malfoy’s eyes met mine and I watched his lips press into a tight line.

I broke first, facing Harry. Shooting a short, questioning glance at me, he forked his food into his mouth.

“Yeah?” He answered

I shrugged, mirroring him and eating my food.

“Food’s good too.” I offered as my second observation, answering his question about my enjoyment of Hogwarts.

He nodded, agreeing.

Within the next couple minutes, he and Ron were conversing again as if nothing had happened. I didn’t move to include myself and I wasn’t mentioned again, but I was glad for that.

I was just satisfied I’d had somewhere to sit and eat.

After a bit, I noticed people finishing up. A few people left and I poked and prodded at bits left on my plate. Due to my unusually formatted schedule, I didn’t have another class today. I assumed this was to allow me to digest what I’d learned and possibly practice and catch up to the best of my abilities.

I moved to the side as I noticed the three I’d sat down with preparing to leave. I attempted to catch Hermione’s attention as she got up, as I’m sure she could answer a question dancing on my tongue.

“Hermione, you know where the library is, right? Any chance you could spot me some directions from here before you go?” I lifted out of my seat, pulling parchment out of my bag in case she needed to write it down or something rather. It’d be smart to have a damn map to my destinations.

Her eyes twinkled and she motioned for my paper, plucking a quill and sitting back down momentarily with it. She scribbled lines marking the halls and wrote lefts and rights, even labelling doors I’d pass to get there. She seemed to mark a couple other directions and I raised my eyebrows as I glanced around the dining hall. It took a bit longer than I’d expected.

Folding it in four and passing it back, she hesitated for a second.

“There’s a main library that Madam Pince oversees, but if you’d like somewhere more secluded… I added some other spots. But please, be careful. This school can be treacherous.”

I nodded, curious as to what she could have simultaneously added and needed to warn me about. She stood back up from her seat and waved goodbye, exiting. Ron had barely noticed and scrambled after her and Harry placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Sit with us any time. You’re welcome over here, alright?” He grinned, taking off in the same direction as his friends.

I maneuvered my legs to the other side of the table bench I’d eaten at, now facing outwards. I watched as people spilled out of the hall on their own time, my elbows pressing into my knees and my head resting in my hands. Some people still sat in conversation, but after a good five minutes, the clock tower chimed, bringing them to their feet.

I wasn’t going to stay behind in an empty dining hall, but I had to examine this map before I could leave. I turned back to face the table, smoothing the parchment out.

Christ, she got detailed with this, didn’t she? There were lines and labels leading me to the library and to Potions, which I was thankful for. There were other directions the lines branched out in and it was almost confusing.

The library, the ‘Room of Requirement’, and the ‘Dungeons’ were listed, detailed directions to all of them. My eyebrows shot up and I tried to keep an incredulous laugh down. Fucking dungeons? I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a castle.

I wasn’t sure which one scared me more. She had included a tidbit about how the Room of Requirement would appear and contain anything the person who needed it may require. I didn’t trust in my magical skills or intuition enough to wander to a magical room, but now she had intrigued me to go somewhere that wasn’t the normal library.

I noticed a shadow cast on the table as I analyzed the map and didn’t think much of it. Not until I remembered the Great Hall had mostly filed out and I should be alone. My breath hitched and I had to clear my throat to hide a cough.

The shadow spoke and I cringed at the voice, not wanting to turn around.

“If you’re headed to the dungeons, I hope something eats you down there.”

My nostrils flared. Normal library with Madam Pince it was, then. I folded the map and pretended to look for a book in my bag. Frustratingly, ignoring him didn’t make him leave.

What did he want? Why was he near me?

Giving up, I turned and tried my hardest not to look at his face. I was just going to try and leave to the stupid library. I started to stand and I watched as his hand came down on my right shoulder, pushing me back down to the seat.

I finally met his eyes. They weren’t smoldering like they had been earlier, but they were filled with something I didn’t recognize. His hand was stone on my shoulder.

“They’ve already got a mudblood in their pathetic little group. You’re not even in their house.” He spat. I wondered for a second if his hate for the three of them outweighed his hatred for me. If this was an insult or thickly disguised advice.

“I didn’t recognize anyone at the Ravenclaw table.” I muttered quietly, looking down at the floor. He removed his hand from my shoulder as if it burned him to touch me.

“I’d pity you if you weren’t a worm in the dirt, Woodwork.” His tone was unreadable.

I felt my shoulders slump. It was still the first day and I was already tired of these interactions.

“Yeah. Dirt on the floor, filthy mudblood, stain of a girl. I think I’ve got it pretty down pat. Thanks.” I sighed heavily, now able to stand.

I didn’t bother to check his face, walking out. Hermione’s directions carried me to the library with ease and I had to figure out to scrub yet another interaction out of my mind on the way there.

I’m at Hogwarts to study and learn magic.

Draco be damned.

[fivenightslaughter]

5k follower celebration!

There are no words to describe how thankful I am. Thank you so much for 5,000 followers. This is absolutely insane, I cannot fathom how there are 5,000 people who follow me and read my works. This is truly mind blowing. 

I started writing fics almost seven years ago and I used it as a way to exercise my imagination and use my writing in a different way. I used it as a way to cope and make me happy. And now I’m making other people happy. And I think that’s pretty darn beautiful.

I am so grateful for each and every one of you, for each request, for each message, for every comment, every like, every reblog, every follow, everything. I am so thankful, so from the bottom of my heart thank you. You truly make my heart soar. I want to thank my mutuals especially for always being so kind and gentle with me. I love you all.

In celebration, I have tagged my all time favorite imagines below to spread the love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I love you,

Lexi

Just a Little Crush, Fred x Reader by @wzrd-wheezes​

Forbidden, Draco x Reader by @dracowars​

I’d Die For You, George x Reader by @wandsandwheezes​

Expecto Patronum, Draco x Reader by @coffee–writes​

Little Star, Fred x Reader by @loony-loopy-lupinn​

Linger, Draco x Reader by @buckysbeloved​

Of Jumpers and Jests, Fred x Reader by @buckysbeloved​

Insecurities, Fred x Reader by @plant-flwrs​

Storm, Draco x Reader by @theweasleysredhair​

Sit in my Lap, Draco x Reader by @theweasleysredhair​

Bloody Lovely, Ron x Reader by @theweasleysredhair​

The Promise of Tomorrow, Fred x Reader by @gcdric​

Baby, You’re Out of This World, George x Reader by @gcdric​

Would You Love Me if I Turned Into a Worm, mixed blurbs by @minty-malfoy​

Phosphenes, Harry x Reader by @minty-malfoy​

Mine, Fred x Reader (smut) by @lumosandnoxwriting​

Attachment Issues, Fred x Reader by @lumosandnoxwriting​

Honeybees, Hermione x Reader by @pansydaisy​

Needy, Harry x Reader by @glossymalfoy​

Nail Polish, Draco x Reader by @glossymalfoy​

Pre-Game Rituals, Fred x Reader by @potter-imagines​

Silent Treatment, Draco x Reader (smut) by @slytherinwh0re​

Rebound, Draco x Reader (smut) by @drabblingdraco​

There are so many other fics that I love, but here are just a few favorites that I have that jumped out at me! Again, thank you all so much for this huge milestone on my blog. I love you.

[fivenightslaughter]

“You haven’t got a letter on yours,” George observed. “I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid — we know we’re called Gred and Forge.”

[fivenightslaughter]

Reblog if you're a fanfic writer and you wanna know what your followers' favorite story of yours is ❤

[fivenightslaughter]

im so in love w luna wow

Unfortunately, all my shoes have mysteriously disappeared. I suspect Nargles are behind it.

[fivenightslaughter]

first and last appearances from a - z:

George Weasley (Philosopher’s Stone - Deathly Hallows Part II)

[fivenightslaughter]

Amnesia (p1) | Draco x Reader

Prompt: The Battle of Hogwarts was one that was hard on everyone mentally and physically. During the war, you took a brutal fall, hitting your head, which caused you to lose your memory, amnesia if you will. You forget a solid chunk of your life, specifically your last few years at Hogwarts and the relationships you made with certain people, including your romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy. What happens in Part One of this multipart series?

Warnings: language, violence, blood, memory loss, death, mentions of PTSD, anxiety

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love. Enjoy part one :)

Flashbacks told in italics! 

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[fivenightslaughter]

By Gryffindor, the bravest were prized far beyond the rest; for Ravenclaw, the cleverest would always be the best; for Hufflepuff, hard workers were most worthy of admission; and power-hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition

[fivenightslaughter]

Wicked Serpentine (Part 6)

pairing: draco malfoy x femravenclaw!oc

summary: slowburn enemies to lovers fic, a TON of parts. <3

warnings: blood purism, bullying, swearing, descriptive physical danger, violence. Awful Draco 

word count: 3,192

taglist: @gloryekaterina @miso-tang​

I had decided to sit in the very front on the right side. With Malfoy tucked away in the left corner, I felt content with my choice being the polar opposite of his. Snape stood at the front, giving a very subtle and quick nod at me.

He strode forward and placed a book on my desk, swishing back to his original position with eerie ease. I was thankful his gesture went unnoticed and immediately my mood was uplifted.

I was here to learn everything I possibly could. I could already feel in my bones that despite Draco’s (thankfully now damp) presence in the room, this would come to be my favorite class.

Students filtered into the room and I heard booming bell chimes. I assumed that would mark the beginning of classes. I was thankful to have made it on time.

A boy slid into the seat next to me, a broad smile on his face. He was a bit lean and his brown hair lay around his head indiscriminately. Round-rimmed glasses circled his green eyes, which were slightly blurred through the thickness of the glass.

He eagerly turned to me, jutting a hand out for a shake.

“I’m Harry.”

His voice was warm and honeyed. He wasn’t overly pleasant to the point of it being sickly, but it was welcoming nonetheless. Taking note of his house colors, I’d guessed it was a trait likely shared among Gryffindors. Bravery.

I shook his hand, fighting hesitancy from my body. He was the first person who had spoken to me just for the hell of it since I’ve gotten here. Cho didn’t count much in my mind- she was a friend, of course, but we also had to share a room and that was very much a forced circumstance in my book.

“Eris.” I replied, facing the book Snape had placed on my table for me.

He seemed to wait a beat, as if he was expecting a different reaction. He turned to face a redheaded boy sitting behind us that looked rather bewildered.

“You know, he’s bloody Harry Potter!” He yelled in a rather hushed-whisper tone.

I turned in my chair like Harry had and faced him, my head cocked to the side as soon as I met eyes with him.

“Hey, you must be one of George’s brothers, right? A Weasley?” I spoke, my eyes raking over his mop of orange hair.

The two of them met eyes immediately, both shocked this time, and the redhead paused before letting out an incredulous laugh.

“Sweet hell Harry, she recognizes me instead of you? I must be moving up in the world!” He spoke endearingly as his hand traveled up into his hair. His face spilled into a crooked grin and Harry gave a short laugh.

I tried holding a straight face but couldn’t help myself as I quipped again, attempting to match their humor.

“Whoa, I saw you at King’s Cross when I met Fred and George. I wouldn’t call you famous just yet, Weasley. I don’t even know your first name.”

I saw Harry’s eyes widen and his mouth broke into a half smile.

“She got you there, Ron. You could be any damned redhead Weasley.”

His orange brows furrowed and he sucked his teeth, his grin beginning to teeter down.

“Lay off, mate. You’re just sore she won’t kiss you just ‘cus you’re the Harry Potter.” A brown haired girl elbowed him, pursing her lips.

There was his full name again. I’d be sure to ask someone later what the big deal about this kid was. Snapping us all out of conversation, a book banged loudly on our table and I whipped around to see a scowl evident on Snape’s face.

Not that it wasn’t the usual expression on his face, however, it hadn’t been directed at me in this way so far. I attempted to brush it off, going silent for the rest of the lesson. I still heard Harry and Ron exchange a couple jokes and words, but I’d decided it was ultimately not in my best interest to continue interacting.

Most of the rest of the lesson went on without a hitch and I noticed that whenever I’d hover my hand unsure of an ingredient, Snape would narrow his eyes at me. He wouldn’t look away until I’d palmed the correct one, and thus ensued an unspoken language between us.

Without it, I’m sure whatever I was concocting would have blown up in my face by now. Much to my enjoyment, there were a few times where Harry looked over and would exclaim positively about my progress.

I felt good. Great, actually. I wasn’t the best by far and I had a lot of room for improvement, but I hadn’t been an utter failure. I could swear Snape’s sourness had decreased just enough for the room to feel a tiny bit brighter.

As I furthered in my work, Harry and Ron started to become a bit of a distraction. They seemed very absorbed in themselves and their conversation as their volume slowly increased. The minutes ticked by and they were becoming less bearable.

I felt myself growing agitated but unable to express it. I couldn’t scare off two people I’d just met, my first two friends. If you could even call them that. I found myself rereading the same lines of instruction over and over, stress starting to become evident on my face.

I craned my neck to find Snape stood at the back of the classroom near the door as he surveyed other students. He wasn’t looking in my direction as my face pleaded for some kind of escape. My nails bit into my palms as the conversation next to me overrode my senses.

A sharp, hissing voice spoke from the back of the classroom, just to the right of my view of Snape. My eyes darted to the sound, accidentally meeting the speaker’s silvery ones as he spoke.

“Must you keep blathering with your boyfriend, Potter? Your voice carries worse than a mandrake. It’s all rather foul, honestly.” He faked a disgusted shiver and elbowed a boy next to him humorously.

His lips curled into a smirk when we broke eye contact and went back to whispering with the boy sitting with him. I scanned his partner at the table that he’d elbowed; he was rather attractive as well. He had smooth, dark skin and his hair was trimmed short and cleanly cut. He had reclined comfortably in the seat, his arms crossed behind his head as he tilted towards the wall.

Were all Slytherin-sorted boys plagued with an air of pretension? I turned back to face my instruction book, hearing Ron mutter under his breath behind me before likely doing the same.

“Malfoy, Zabini and that whole lot…” The rest was incoherent and I wondered what words he could be cursing at them. Harry nodded, pressing his lips in a tight line.

I wondered what kind of secret language they had and if it was anything like the one I shared with Severus. It didn’t matter to me now, though, as Snape strode to the front of the room. I was finally able to read and I stirred final ingredients into the cauldron on my table.

It bubbled and Snape raised his eyebrows questioningly as he stopped by our table. He placed a hand on the dusty wooden top, peering into both of our cauldrons.

“It’s decent…Ravenclaw. As for you, Potter, I suggest you learn to pay attention. Your… Inability to focus… Is hindering your classmates.”

Snickering erupted from the back corner, bouncing off of the walls.

Snape turned to fully face the entire class before he drawled,

“You all may thank Potter for arrangements… That will take effect next time we meet.” He spoke Harry’s name with a certain malice and it made me wince. The class gave a groan and I could see redness creep up Harry’s neck to his cheeks.

I felt guilty for thinking he deserved it considering I had literally just met him within the last hour or two. He was a bit intolerable, but perhaps that was good enough reason for why I’d been sorted where I was. Away from them.

I wasn’t exactly the brave or sociable type. I just wanted to learn and succeed here. I wanted to learn magic. If I couldn’t gain that from a friendship with these two boys, perhaps it wasn’t detrimental to my time.

I watched Harry check his watch and shove his book into his bag and I figured they’d be leaving soon. I wanted to talk to Snape first, though. I’d have to wait for everyone to leave and stay behind.

As suspected, the large bell towers on the grounds chimed within the minute and everyone eagerly left, rushing off to wherever they had to be next. I sat, not in any particular hurry as I pushed the book and parchment I’d taken a couple notes on into my bag.

Snape eyed me carefully, striding over to my table. He seemed to have something to say as well.

“Do not get involved with Potter. He is nothing but a vile trouble to this school.” He spoke sternly, every sentence with Harry’s last name was spoken with venom so far.

I gulped, nodding. “He seemed surprised when I didn’t recognize his name, who is he? Is he popular?”

Snape swept away deliberately, gathering items from a desk and purposefully setting it somewhere else. I wondered if it was genuine or busywork.

“You could say, yes… Popular.” It seemed bitter coming from his mouth and I decided to not press on any more Potter related matters.

“I wanted to say thank you. For the box.” I breathed, changing the subject and feeling a bit sentimental.

He gave no indication that he heard me, but the room was quiet enough for me to know he had. I took that as a signal he was done with conversation and I finally stood up, tucking my chair in and leaving the classroom without another word.

Much to my surprise, the hallway was not empty. In this lighting and proximity, the boy who stood outside the doorway looked as if he were of the same marble as the stairs in the entrance hall, still and pale.

“Took you long enough.” He spat.

Confusion etched itself onto my face and I was beginning to tire of twisting my features every time I didn’t understand something. His light grey eyes rolled at my expression, mouth looking as if he’d just eaten something sour.

“Charms.” He stated brusquely, his nose scrunching in disgust as he began walking off in a direction. He glanced behind him in a way that made it clear I was supposed to be following. My legs working faster than my brain, I hastened after his long strides.

Many thoughts attacked my brain. Had Snape told him to wait for me or something when I wasn’t paying attention? I couldn’t piece together why he’d be assisting me but against my better judgement, I decided not to ask.

Instead, I walked nearly by his side. It was a little unsettling how much he’d slowed and allowed me to do so. Sweat formed at my hairline and all I could hear were the taps of his shoes on stone.

“Thank you,” I started uneasily. I felt like I was gulping a brick.

Just as Snape had, he ignored me. Slytherin definitely made sense for him. It seemed like he fit so easily into a category and had his entire life planned out. The way he carried himself, it was obvious he never doubted a single step he took.

I envied it. In a way, I envied him. Likely growing up fully submerged in the most glamorous pieces of the wizarding world, rich parents, freedom to say and act however he pleased.

Even rudely, terribly, horribly. He could do whatever he wanted, couldn’t he?

His lips parted, exhaling lightly. He continued walking as he spoke, looking slightly agitated.

“Stop staring, you damned pest. I know I’m irresistible, but keep the drooling to a minimum.”

I scowled, narrowing my eyes at him. I didn’t react to his usage of pest, but it certainly made this adventure clear it wasn’t of his own volition. At least he indirectly answered the nagging question in my mind.

“You’re too full of yourself. Definitely not an irresistible trait.” I snipped.

I could see his jaw set tight at my response. The defined bones in his face made him look picturesque. His hair reminded me of pearls, moon-white and fine, almost iridescent. I suppose he was rather attractive, but it was clouded by his nasty attitude.  

“Hasn’t stopped you from ogling something you’ll never deserve, you lowly creature.”

The air got much tenser. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides and I stopped walking in stride with him. I stood still in the hall and he had halted only a few steps down, noticing I’d paused. He spun to face me, his eyebrows pulled together, likely attempting to dissect what was happening.

“What the hell are you doing?” He spoke sharply, now impatiently leaning on one foot.

Frustration was evident on my face. I hated how easily he could talk to me like that. With the tension snapping, I wondered if I was capable of replying calmly and moving on to Charms in silence. The answer was no, I was not capable.

“I’d rather wander aimlessly and miss a lesson than spend another minute with a foul git like you.” I enunciated, internally declaring a battle between my brain and feet. I wanted to turn off in the opposite direction and dart into the depths of the school alone, as long as it meant being away from him.

I dug into my bag and grabbed the stupid green box from earlier this morning, angrily tossing it at his chest. He didn’t react as it hit him, which had made my heart begin to race. This didn’t feel right. Why was he just staring at me?

He stepped closer to me, his face eerily calm. He was dauntingly slow and careful. It was enough to make me step backwards, a tiny stumble kicking me into the beginning of a run. I was seconds from darting.

He lunged at me like some kind of predator. My body was twisted halfway behind me, partway in a run. I was mid-turn when he caught me. He had gotten as close as he could to me before grabbing my wrist, as if I had been a wild animal. My heart felt like it had completely torn its way from my body.

I felt his icy fingers begin crush my hand, the searing cold of a metal ring biting into my skin.

He quickly shoved me towards the stone wall of the hallway. The hand he caught me with released me, snapping back to his side. He looked furious, genuinely. I noticed his wand in his free hand, angled towards me. I hadn’t known he could look any angrier than his resting face but being in this position, I was fucking terrified.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

Seconds before, he was an intolerable teenage boy with an insufferably outdated blood bias. A typical pureblooded school bully. But right now, he looked like an adult. No, not just an adult. He looked like the scariest man I’d ever laid eyes on - and he definitely had the means to hurt me.

It felt hard to breathe. My chest heaved as if I’d just run a mile. My shoulder blades pressed uncomfortably against the rock behind my body and I felt paralyzed with fear. All I could think about was the way the frigid stone nipped at the back of my neck. I felt myself sliding down the wall, ever so slightly as my own weight slugged me down.

His head was upturned, looking down at me. His hand gripped his wand so hard his knuckles were white. I could tell from his eyes that he was deep in angry thought.

I felt tears prick my eyes as I turned over what could be going through his mind. I laid my palms flat against the wall, my fingers twitching at the sudden brisk. 

Everything felt hot and cold and I couldn’t look at him anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, my head turned in a flinch and I nearly ground my teeth together clenching my jaw.

What was he going to do to me? What were school rules about killing a girl no one knows? Was it something his father could find a way to pardon, regardless of the rules?

I had slid all the way down to the floor without realizing it and my arms guarded my chest. I was curled up into a ball on the floor against the bricks behind me. I felt and looked utterly pathetic and powerless.

I didn’t realize I was actually crying until I tasted salt in my mouth.

After what felt like an eternity of stillness as I waited to die, I opened my blurry eyes. I took in a sharp, quick breath of shock when I noticed he was bent down, his face parallel to mine and only an arms length away. I jolted backwards, smacking my head on the wall.

The pain seared and my breathing was still unsteady. His face was filled with curiosity and what looked like a twinge of guilt. I must have been imagining it, though, considering I wasn’t sure a reptile like him was capable of guilt.

He slowly outstretched a hand to me, straightening his legs back to a stand. I eyed his hand and his face wearily, back and forth, searching for some kind of falter. Some bubble of amusement. Something to tip me off to whether or not he’d drop me or laugh in my face for accepting his help.

There was nothing. The guilt and curiosity had evaporated, leaving a poker face.

My stomach lurched as I shakily put my hand in his, expecting him to make some rude comment about needing to wash away the dirtiness he was convinced coursed through my veins.

He didn’t.

Instead, he pulled me up, one hand around mine and the other on my elbow on the opposite arm. Once I was fully upright, he retracted his arms to his own body, dusting his hands off on his pants.

There it was. He had wordlessly done it. Attempted to wipe his hands clean of merely touching a muggleborn witch as if I’d been some kind of nasty task. He noticed my narrowed eyes at his action and rolled his.

“Your robes were dusty.” He muttered, surveying me up and down. It made me feel a bit sick noticing that he felt the need to give an explanation. 

He motioned to the hall ahead of us, swallowing and examining the corridor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“At the end, turn left and take the stairs up. It’s Flitwick’s class- your head of house. I’ve got better things to do.”

He turned and disappeared back down the hallway we came from before I could utter a word. Unlike earlier, he’d walked without much noise at all. It was as if he had become a ghost.

[fivenightslaughter]

There is no doubt in my mind that Ginny and Hermione forced the Weasley boys including Harry to do face masks in the summer. After years it because a tradition each year adding new family members.

Ginny Telling them from the scars and injuries and all the battle wounds they endured throughout the school year that the mask would do them wonders.

We know this because Ginny’s skin was immaculate and after some time so was Hermione’s.

They brought and made magical and muggle masks. Clay, peel off, Charol, funny colours and smells and textures.

But now imagine Mrs. Weasley hearing loud laughter as she opened the door the Ron’s attic room to find Ginny, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred and George all absolutely Wetting themselves, crying and banging on the floor because Hermione is trying to rip the peel off black mask from Ron and he’d having a meltdown. Imagine them laughing because Ron can’t talk properly with it on.

Imagine George and Fred having bubble masks on and are in bits feeling it bubble up and blowing bits into each other faces.

Imagine Harry’s got a clay pink mask on and has clips to keep his fringe back and Ginny finds it adorable as well the fact that He can’t see because Ginny has his glasses in her hair.

Hermione got a magical detox mask on she created herself and it’s green and moving and she looks like the thing from the blob. That’s what started the laughter fit because Ron screamed bloody murder and told her to back away.

They are all just sitting around laughing, eating and cracking jokes together in their pjs looking younger than they had in months.

Mrs. Weasley listens form the door, loving the sound. Never disturbing them knowing in a few months they won’t be teenagers anymore. They’ll be war survivors, maybe not to even survivors maybe victims. So she lets them be and hold this memory tight in her chest as tears fall down her face.

Just my little imagine.

[fivenightslaughter]

Or perhaps in Slytherin, you’ll make your real friends. Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.

[fivenightslaughter]

Wicked Serpentine (Part 6)

pairing: draco malfoy x femravenclaw!oc

summary: slowburn enemies to lovers fic, a TON of parts. <3

warnings: blood purism, bullying, swearing, descriptive physical danger, violence. Awful Draco 

word count: 3,192

taglist: @gloryekaterina @miso-tang​

I had decided to sit in the very front on the right side. With Malfoy tucked away in the left corner, I felt content with my choice being the polar opposite of his. Snape stood at the front, giving a very subtle and quick nod at me.

He strode forward and placed a book on my desk, swishing back to his original position with eerie ease. I was thankful his gesture went unnoticed and immediately my mood was uplifted.

I was here to learn everything I possibly could. I could already feel in my bones that despite Draco’s (thankfully now damp) presence in the room, this would come to be my favorite class.

Students filtered into the room and I heard booming bell chimes. I assumed that would mark the beginning of classes. I was thankful to have made it on time.

A boy slid into the seat next to me, a broad smile on his face. He was a bit lean and his brown hair lay around his head indiscriminately. Round-rimmed glasses circled his green eyes, which were slightly blurred through the thickness of the glass.

He eagerly turned to me, jutting a hand out for a shake.

“I’m Harry.”

His voice was warm and honeyed. He wasn’t overly pleasant to the point of it being sickly, but it was welcoming nonetheless. Taking note of his house colors, I’d guessed it was a trait likely shared among Gryffindors. Bravery.

I shook his hand, fighting hesitancy from my body. He was the first person who had spoken to me just for the hell of it since I’ve gotten here. Cho didn’t count much in my mind- she was a friend, of course, but we also had to share a room and that was very much a forced circumstance in my book.

“Eris.” I replied, facing the book Snape had placed on my table for me.

He seemed to wait a beat, as if he was expecting a different reaction. He turned to face a redheaded boy sitting behind us that looked rather bewildered.

“You know, he’s bloody Harry Potter!” He yelled in a rather hushed-whisper tone.

I turned in my chair like Harry had and faced him, my head cocked to the side as soon as I met eyes with him.

“Hey, you must be one of George’s brothers, right? A Weasley?” I spoke, my eyes raking over his mop of orange hair.

The two of them met eyes immediately, both shocked this time, and the redhead paused before letting out an incredulous laugh.

“Sweet hell Harry, she recognizes me instead of you? I must be moving up in the world!” He spoke endearingly as his hand traveled up into his hair. His face spilled into a crooked grin and Harry gave a short laugh.

I tried holding a straight face but couldn’t help myself as I quipped again, attempting to match their humor.

“Whoa, I saw you at King’s Cross when I met Fred and George. I wouldn’t call you famous just yet, Weasley. I don’t even know your first name.”

I saw Harry’s eyes widen and his mouth broke into a half smile.

“She got you there, Ron. You could be any damned redhead Weasley.”

His orange brows furrowed and he sucked his teeth, his grin beginning to teeter down.

“Lay off, mate. You’re just sore she won’t kiss you just ‘cus you’re the Harry Potter.” A brown haired girl elbowed him, pursing her lips.

There was his full name again. I’d be sure to ask someone later what the big deal about this kid was. Snapping us all out of conversation, a book banged loudly on our table and I whipped around to see a scowl evident on Snape’s face.

Not that it wasn’t the usual expression on his face, however, it hadn’t been directed at me in this way so far. I attempted to brush it off, going silent for the rest of the lesson. I still heard Harry and Ron exchange a couple jokes and words, but I’d decided it was ultimately not in my best interest to continue interacting.

Most of the rest of the lesson went on without a hitch and I noticed that whenever I’d hover my hand unsure of an ingredient, Snape would narrow his eyes at me. He wouldn’t look away until I’d palmed the correct one, and thus ensued an unspoken language between us.

Without it, I’m sure whatever I was concocting would have blown up in my face by now. Much to my enjoyment, there were a few times where Harry looked over and would exclaim positively about my progress.

I felt good. Great, actually. I wasn’t the best by far and I had a lot of room for improvement, but I hadn’t been an utter failure. I could swear Snape’s sourness had decreased just enough for the room to feel a tiny bit brighter.

As I furthered in my work, Harry and Ron started to become a bit of a distraction. They seemed very absorbed in themselves and their conversation as their volume slowly increased. The minutes ticked by and they were becoming less bearable.

I felt myself growing agitated but unable to express it. I couldn’t scare off two people I’d just met, my first two friends. If you could even call them that. I found myself rereading the same lines of instruction over and over, stress starting to become evident on my face.

I craned my neck to find Snape stood at the back of the classroom near the door as he surveyed other students. He wasn’t looking in my direction as my face pleaded for some kind of escape. My nails bit into my palms as the conversation next to me overrode my senses.

A sharp, hissing voice spoke from the back of the classroom, just to the right of my view of Snape. My eyes darted to the sound, accidentally meeting the speaker’s silvery ones as he spoke.

“Must you keep blathering with your boyfriend, Potter? Your voice carries worse than a mandrake. It’s all rather foul, honestly.” He faked a disgusted shiver and elbowed a boy next to him humorously.

His lips curled into a smirk when we broke eye contact and went back to whispering with the boy sitting with him. I scanned his partner at the table that he’d elbowed; he was rather attractive as well. He had smooth, dark skin and his hair was trimmed short and cleanly cut. He had reclined comfortably in the seat, his arms crossed behind his head as he tilted towards the wall.

Were all Slytherin-sorted boys plagued with an air of pretension? I turned back to face my instruction book, hearing Ron mutter under his breath behind me before likely doing the same.

“Malfoy, Zabini and that whole lot…” The rest was incoherent and I wondered what words he could be cursing at them. Harry nodded, pressing his lips in a tight line.

I wondered what kind of secret language they had and if it was anything like the one I shared with Severus. It didn’t matter to me now, though, as Snape strode to the front of the room. I was finally able to read and I stirred final ingredients into the cauldron on my table.

It bubbled and Snape raised his eyebrows questioningly as he stopped by our table. He placed a hand on the dusty wooden top, peering into both of our cauldrons.

“It’s decent…Ravenclaw. As for you, Potter, I suggest you learn to pay attention. Your… Inability to focus… Is hindering your classmates.”

Snickering erupted from the back corner, bouncing off of the walls.

Snape turned to fully face the entire class before he drawled,

“You all may thank Potter for arrangements… That will take effect next time we meet.” He spoke Harry’s name with a certain malice and it made me wince. The class gave a groan and I could see redness creep up Harry’s neck to his cheeks.

I felt guilty for thinking he deserved it considering I had literally just met him within the last hour or two. He was a bit intolerable, but perhaps that was good enough reason for why I’d been sorted where I was. Away from them.

I wasn’t exactly the brave or sociable type. I just wanted to learn and succeed here. I wanted to learn magic. If I couldn’t gain that from a friendship with these two boys, perhaps it wasn’t detrimental to my time.

I watched Harry check his watch and shove his book into his bag and I figured they’d be leaving soon. I wanted to talk to Snape first, though. I’d have to wait for everyone to leave and stay behind.

As suspected, the large bell towers on the grounds chimed within the minute and everyone eagerly left, rushing off to wherever they had to be next. I sat, not in any particular hurry as I pushed the book and parchment I’d taken a couple notes on into my bag.

Snape eyed me carefully, striding over to my table. He seemed to have something to say as well.

“Do not get involved with Potter. He is nothing but a vile trouble to this school.” He spoke sternly, every sentence with Harry’s last name was spoken with venom so far.

I gulped, nodding. “He seemed surprised when I didn’t recognize his name, who is he? Is he popular?”

Snape swept away deliberately, gathering items from a desk and purposefully setting it somewhere else. I wondered if it was genuine or busywork.

“You could say, yes… Popular.” It seemed bitter coming from his mouth and I decided to not press on any more Potter related matters.

“I wanted to say thank you. For the box.” I breathed, changing the subject and feeling a bit sentimental.

He gave no indication that he heard me, but the room was quiet enough for me to know he had. I took that as a signal he was done with conversation and I finally stood up, tucking my chair in and leaving the classroom without another word.

Much to my surprise, the hallway was not empty. In this lighting and proximity, the boy who stood outside the doorway looked as if he were of the same marble as the stairs in the entrance hall, still and pale.

“Took you long enough.” He spat.

Confusion etched itself onto my face and I was beginning to tire of twisting my features every time I didn’t understand something. His light grey eyes rolled at my expression, mouth looking as if he’d just eaten something sour.

“Charms.” He stated brusquely, his nose scrunching in disgust as he began walking off in a direction. He glanced behind him in a way that made it clear I was supposed to be following. My legs working faster than my brain, I hastened after his long strides.

Many thoughts attacked my brain. Had Snape told him to wait for me or something when I wasn’t paying attention? I couldn’t piece together why he’d be assisting me but against my better judgement, I decided not to ask.

Instead, I walked nearly by his side. It was a little unsettling how much he’d slowed and allowed me to do so. Sweat formed at my hairline and all I could hear were the taps of his shoes on stone.

“Thank you,” I started uneasily. I felt like I was gulping a brick.

Just as Snape had, he ignored me. Slytherin definitely made sense for him. It seemed like he fit so easily into a category and had his entire life planned out. The way he carried himself, it was obvious he never doubted a single step he took.

I envied it. In a way, I envied him. Likely growing up fully submerged in the most glamorous pieces of the wizarding world, rich parents, freedom to say and act however he pleased.

Even rudely, terribly, horribly. He could do whatever he wanted, couldn’t he?

His lips parted, exhaling lightly. He continued walking as he spoke, looking slightly agitated.

“Stop staring, you damned pest. I know I’m irresistible, but keep the drooling to a minimum.”

I scowled, narrowing my eyes at him. I didn’t react to his usage of pest, but it certainly made this adventure clear it wasn’t of his own volition. At least he indirectly answered the nagging question in my mind.

“You’re too full of yourself. Definitely not an irresistible trait.” I snipped.

I could see his jaw set tight at my response. The defined bones in his face made him look picturesque. His hair reminded me of pearls, moon-white and fine, almost iridescent. I suppose he was rather attractive, but it was clouded by his nasty attitude.  

“Hasn’t stopped you from ogling something you’ll never deserve, you lowly creature.”

The air got much tenser. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides and I stopped walking in stride with him. I stood still in the hall and he had halted only a few steps down, noticing I’d paused. He spun to face me, his eyebrows pulled together, likely attempting to dissect what was happening.

“What the hell are you doing?” He spoke sharply, now impatiently leaning on one foot.

Frustration was evident on my face. I hated how easily he could talk to me like that. With the tension snapping, I wondered if I was capable of replying calmly and moving on to Charms in silence. The answer was no, I was not capable.

“I’d rather wander aimlessly and miss a lesson than spend another minute with a foul git like you.” I enunciated, internally declaring a battle between my brain and feet. I wanted to turn off in the opposite direction and dart into the depths of the school alone, as long as it meant being away from him.

I dug into my bag and grabbed the stupid green box from earlier this morning, angrily tossing it at his chest. He didn’t react as it hit him, which had made my heart begin to race. This didn’t feel right. Why was he just staring at me?

He stepped closer to me, his face eerily calm. He was dauntingly slow and careful. It was enough to make me step backwards, a tiny stumble kicking me into the beginning of a run. I was seconds from darting.

He lunged at me like some kind of predator. My body was twisted halfway behind me, partway in a run. I was mid-turn when he caught me. He had gotten as close as he could to me before grabbing my wrist, as if I had been a wild animal. My heart felt like it had completely torn its way from my body.

I felt his icy fingers begin crush my hand, the searing cold of a metal ring biting into my skin.

He quickly shoved me towards the stone wall of the hallway. The hand he caught me with released me, snapping back to his side. He looked furious, genuinely. I noticed his wand in his free hand, angled towards me. I hadn’t known he could look any angrier than his resting face but being in this position, I was fucking terrified.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

Seconds before, he was an intolerable teenage boy with an insufferably outdated blood bias. A typical pureblooded school bully. But right now, he looked like an adult. No, not just an adult. He looked like the scariest man I’d ever laid eyes on - and he definitely had the means to hurt me.

It felt hard to breathe. My chest heaved as if I’d just run a mile. My shoulder blades pressed uncomfortably against the rock behind my body and I felt paralyzed with fear. All I could think about was the way the frigid stone nipped at the back of my neck. I felt myself sliding down the wall, ever so slightly as my own weight slugged me down.

His head was upturned, looking down at me. His hand gripped his wand so hard his knuckles were white. I could tell from his eyes that he was deep in angry thought.

I felt tears prick my eyes as I turned over what could be going through his mind. I laid my palms flat against the wall, my fingers twitching at the sudden brisk. 

Everything felt hot and cold and I couldn’t look at him anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, my head turned in a flinch and I nearly ground my teeth together clenching my jaw.

What was he going to do to me? What were school rules about killing a girl no one knows? Was it something his father could find a way to pardon, regardless of the rules?

I had slid all the way down to the floor without realizing it and my arms guarded my chest. I was curled up into a ball on the floor against the bricks behind me. I felt and looked utterly pathetic and powerless.

I didn’t realize I was actually crying until I tasted salt in my mouth.

After what felt like an eternity of stillness as I waited to die, I opened my blurry eyes. I took in a sharp, quick breath of shock when I noticed he was bent down, his face parallel to mine and only an arms length away. I jolted backwards, smacking my head on the wall.

The pain seared and my breathing was still unsteady. His face was filled with curiosity and what looked like a twinge of guilt. I must have been imagining it, though, considering I wasn’t sure a reptile like him was capable of guilt.

He slowly outstretched a hand to me, straightening his legs back to a stand. I eyed his hand and his face wearily, back and forth, searching for some kind of falter. Some bubble of amusement. Something to tip me off to whether or not he’d drop me or laugh in my face for accepting his help.

There was nothing. The guilt and curiosity had evaporated, leaving a poker face.

My stomach lurched as I shakily put my hand in his, expecting him to make some rude comment about needing to wash away the dirtiness he was convinced coursed through my veins.

He didn’t.

Instead, he pulled me up, one hand around mine and the other on my elbow on the opposite arm. Once I was fully upright, he retracted his arms to his own body, dusting his hands off on his pants.

There it was. He had wordlessly done it. Attempted to wipe his hands clean of merely touching a muggleborn witch as if I’d been some kind of nasty task. He noticed my narrowed eyes at his action and rolled his.

“Your robes were dusty.” He muttered, surveying me up and down. It made me feel a bit sick noticing that he felt the need to give an explanation. 

He motioned to the hall ahead of us, swallowing and examining the corridor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“At the end, turn left and take the stairs up. It’s Flitwick’s class- your head of house. I’ve got better things to do.”

He turned and disappeared back down the hallway we came from before I could utter a word. Unlike earlier, he’d walked without much noise at all. It was as if he had become a ghost.

[fivenightslaughter]

Wicked Serpentine (Part 6)

pairing: draco malfoy x femravenclaw!oc

summary: slowburn enemies to lovers fic, a TON of parts. <3

warnings: blood purism, bullying, swearing, descriptive physical danger, violence. Awful Draco 

word count: 3,192

taglist: @gloryekaterina @miso-tang​

I had decided to sit in the very front on the right side. With Malfoy tucked away in the left corner, I felt content with my choice being the polar opposite of his. Snape stood at the front, giving a very subtle and quick nod at me.

He strode forward and placed a book on my desk, swishing back to his original position with eerie ease. I was thankful his gesture went unnoticed and immediately my mood was uplifted.

I was here to learn everything I possibly could. I could already feel in my bones that despite Draco’s (thankfully now damp) presence in the room, this would come to be my favorite class.

Students filtered into the room and I heard booming bell chimes. I assumed that would mark the beginning of classes. I was thankful to have made it on time.

A boy slid into the seat next to me, a broad smile on his face. He was a bit lean and his brown hair lay around his head indiscriminately. Round-rimmed glasses circled his green eyes, which were slightly blurred through the thickness of the glass.

He eagerly turned to me, jutting a hand out for a shake.

“I’m Harry.”

His voice was warm and honeyed. He wasn’t overly pleasant to the point of it being sickly, but it was welcoming nonetheless. Taking note of his house colors, I’d guessed it was a trait likely shared among Gryffindors. Bravery.

I shook his hand, fighting hesitancy from my body. He was the first person who had spoken to me just for the hell of it since I’ve gotten here. Cho didn’t count much in my mind- she was a friend, of course, but we also had to share a room and that was very much a forced circumstance in my book.

“Eris.” I replied, facing the book Snape had placed on my table for me.

He seemed to wait a beat, as if he was expecting a different reaction. He turned to face a redheaded boy sitting behind us that looked rather bewildered.

“You know, he’s bloody Harry Potter!” He yelled in a rather hushed-whisper tone.

I turned in my chair like Harry had and faced him, my head cocked to the side as soon as I met eyes with him.

“Hey, you must be one of George’s brothers, right? A Weasley?” I spoke, my eyes raking over his mop of orange hair.

The two of them met eyes immediately, both shocked this time, and the redhead paused before letting out an incredulous laugh.

“Sweet hell Harry, she recognizes me instead of you? I must be moving up in the world!” He spoke endearingly as his hand traveled up into his hair. His face spilled into a crooked grin and Harry gave a short laugh.

I tried holding a straight face but couldn’t help myself as I quipped again, attempting to match their humor.

“Whoa, I saw you at King’s Cross when I met Fred and George. I wouldn’t call you famous just yet, Weasley. I don’t even know your first name.”

I saw Harry’s eyes widen and his mouth broke into a half smile.

“She got you there, Ron. You could be any damned redhead Weasley.”

His orange brows furrowed and he sucked his teeth, his grin beginning to teeter down.

“Lay off, mate. You’re just sore she won’t kiss you just ‘cus you’re the Harry Potter.” A brown haired girl elbowed him, pursing her lips.

There was his full name again. I’d be sure to ask someone later what the big deal about this kid was. Snapping us all out of conversation, a book banged loudly on our table and I whipped around to see a scowl evident on Snape’s face.

Not that it wasn’t the usual expression on his face, however, it hadn’t been directed at me in this way so far. I attempted to brush it off, going silent for the rest of the lesson. I still heard Harry and Ron exchange a couple jokes and words, but I’d decided it was ultimately not in my best interest to continue interacting.

Most of the rest of the lesson went on without a hitch and I noticed that whenever I’d hover my hand unsure of an ingredient, Snape would narrow his eyes at me. He wouldn’t look away until I’d palmed the correct one, and thus ensued an unspoken language between us.

Without it, I’m sure whatever I was concocting would have blown up in my face by now. Much to my enjoyment, there were a few times where Harry looked over and would exclaim positively about my progress.

I felt good. Great, actually. I wasn’t the best by far and I had a lot of room for improvement, but I hadn’t been an utter failure. I could swear Snape’s sourness had decreased just enough for the room to feel a tiny bit brighter.

As I furthered in my work, Harry and Ron started to become a bit of a distraction. They seemed very absorbed in themselves and their conversation as their volume slowly increased. The minutes ticked by and they were becoming less bearable.

I felt myself growing agitated but unable to express it. I couldn’t scare off two people I’d just met, my first two friends. If you could even call them that. I found myself rereading the same lines of instruction over and over, stress starting to become evident on my face.

I craned my neck to find Snape stood at the back of the classroom near the door as he surveyed other students. He wasn’t looking in my direction as my face pleaded for some kind of escape. My nails bit into my palms as the conversation next to me overrode my senses.

A sharp, hissing voice spoke from the back of the classroom, just to the right of my view of Snape. My eyes darted to the sound, accidentally meeting the speaker’s silvery ones as he spoke.

“Must you keep blathering with your boyfriend, Potter? Your voice carries worse than a mandrake. It’s all rather foul, honestly.” He faked a disgusted shiver and elbowed a boy next to him humorously.

His lips curled into a smirk when we broke eye contact and went back to whispering with the boy sitting with him. I scanned his partner at the table that he’d elbowed; he was rather attractive as well. He had smooth, dark skin and his hair was trimmed short and cleanly cut. He had reclined comfortably in the seat, his arms crossed behind his head as he tilted towards the wall.

Were all Slytherin-sorted boys plagued with an air of pretension? I turned back to face my instruction book, hearing Ron mutter under his breath behind me before likely doing the same.

“Malfoy, Zabini and that whole lot…” The rest was incoherent and I wondered what words he could be cursing at them. Harry nodded, pressing his lips in a tight line.

I wondered what kind of secret language they had and if it was anything like the one I shared with Severus. It didn’t matter to me now, though, as Snape strode to the front of the room. I was finally able to read and I stirred final ingredients into the cauldron on my table.

It bubbled and Snape raised his eyebrows questioningly as he stopped by our table. He placed a hand on the dusty wooden top, peering into both of our cauldrons.

“It’s decent…Ravenclaw. As for you, Potter, I suggest you learn to pay attention. Your… Inability to focus… Is hindering your classmates.”

Snickering erupted from the back corner, bouncing off of the walls.

Snape turned to fully face the entire class before he drawled,

“You all may thank Potter for arrangements… That will take effect next time we meet.” He spoke Harry’s name with a certain malice and it made me wince. The class gave a groan and I could see redness creep up Harry’s neck to his cheeks.

I felt guilty for thinking he deserved it considering I had literally just met him within the last hour or two. He was a bit intolerable, but perhaps that was good enough reason for why I’d been sorted where I was. Away from them.

I wasn’t exactly the brave or sociable type. I just wanted to learn and succeed here. I wanted to learn magic. If I couldn’t gain that from a friendship with these two boys, perhaps it wasn’t detrimental to my time.

I watched Harry check his watch and shove his book into his bag and I figured they’d be leaving soon. I wanted to talk to Snape first, though. I’d have to wait for everyone to leave and stay behind.

As suspected, the large bell towers on the grounds chimed within the minute and everyone eagerly left, rushing off to wherever they had to be next. I sat, not in any particular hurry as I pushed the book and parchment I’d taken a couple notes on into my bag.

Snape eyed me carefully, striding over to my table. He seemed to have something to say as well.

“Do not get involved with Potter. He is nothing but a vile trouble to this school.” He spoke sternly, every sentence with Harry’s last name was spoken with venom so far.

I gulped, nodding. “He seemed surprised when I didn’t recognize his name, who is he? Is he popular?”

Snape swept away deliberately, gathering items from a desk and purposefully setting it somewhere else. I wondered if it was genuine or busywork.

“You could say, yes… Popular.” It seemed bitter coming from his mouth and I decided to not press on any more Potter related matters.

“I wanted to say thank you. For the box.” I breathed, changing the subject and feeling a bit sentimental.

He gave no indication that he heard me, but the room was quiet enough for me to know he had. I took that as a signal he was done with conversation and I finally stood up, tucking my chair in and leaving the classroom without another word.

Much to my surprise, the hallway was not empty. In this lighting and proximity, the boy who stood outside the doorway looked as if he were of the same marble as the stairs in the entrance hall, still and pale.

“Took you long enough.” He spat.

Confusion etched itself onto my face and I was beginning to tire of twisting my features every time I didn’t understand something. His light grey eyes rolled at my expression, mouth looking as if he’d just eaten something sour.

“Charms.” He stated brusquely, his nose scrunching in disgust as he began walking off in a direction. He glanced behind him in a way that made it clear I was supposed to be following. My legs working faster than my brain, I hastened after his long strides.

Many thoughts attacked my brain. Had Snape told him to wait for me or something when I wasn’t paying attention? I couldn’t piece together why he’d be assisting me but against my better judgement, I decided not to ask.

Instead, I walked nearly by his side. It was a little unsettling how much he’d slowed and allowed me to do so. Sweat formed at my hairline and all I could hear were the taps of his shoes on stone.

“Thank you,” I started uneasily. I felt like I was gulping a brick.

Just as Snape had, he ignored me. Slytherin definitely made sense for him. It seemed like he fit so easily into a category and had his entire life planned out. The way he carried himself, it was obvious he never doubted a single step he took.

I envied it. In a way, I envied him. Likely growing up fully submerged in the most glamorous pieces of the wizarding world, rich parents, freedom to say and act however he pleased.

Even rudely, terribly, horribly. He could do whatever he wanted, couldn’t he?

His lips parted, exhaling lightly. He continued walking as he spoke, looking slightly agitated.

“Stop staring, you damned pest. I know I’m irresistible, but keep the drooling to a minimum.”

I scowled, narrowing my eyes at him. I didn’t react to his usage of pest, but it certainly made this adventure clear it wasn't of his own volition. At least he indirectly answered the nagging question in my mind.

“You’re too full of yourself. Definitely not an irresistible trait.” I snipped.

I could see his jaw set tight at my response. The defined bones in his face made him look picturesque. His hair reminded me of pearls, moon-white and fine, almost iridescent. I suppose he was rather attractive, but it was clouded by his nasty attitude.  

“Hasn’t stopped you from ogling something you’ll never deserve, you lowly creature.”

The air got much tenser. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides and I stopped walking in stride with him. I stood still in the hall and he had halted only a few steps down, noticing I’d paused. He spun to face me, his eyebrows pulled together, likely attempting to dissect what was happening.

“What the hell are you doing?” He spoke sharply, now impatiently leaning on one foot.

Frustration was evident on my face. I hated how easily he could talk to me like that. With the tension snapping, I wondered if I was capable of replying calmly and moving on to Charms in silence. The answer was no, I was not capable.

“I’d rather wander aimlessly and miss a lesson than spend another minute with a foul git like you.” I enunciated, internally declaring a battle between my brain and feet. I wanted to turn off in the opposite direction and dart into the depths of the school alone, as long as it meant being away from him.

I dug into my bag and grabbed the stupid green box from earlier this morning, angrily tossing it at his chest. He didn’t react as it hit him, which had made my heart begin to race. This didn’t feel right. Why was he just staring at me?

He stepped closer to me, his face eerily calm. He was dauntingly slow and careful. It was enough to make me step backwards, a tiny stumble kicking me into the beginning of a run. I was seconds from darting.

He lunged at me like some kind of predator. My body was twisted halfway behind me, partway in a run. I was mid-turn when he caught me. He had gotten as close as he could to me before grabbing my wrist, as if I had been a wild animal. My heart felt like it had completely torn its way from my body.

I felt his icy fingers begin crush my hand, the searing cold of a metal ring biting into my skin.

He quickly shoved me towards the stone wall of the hallway. The hand he caught me with released me, snapping back to his side. He looked furious, genuinely. I noticed his wand in his free hand, angled towards me. I hadn’t known he could look any angrier than his resting face but being in this position, I was fucking terrified.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

Seconds before, he was an intolerable teenage boy with an insufferably outdated blood bias. A typical pureblooded school bully. But right now, he looked like an adult. No, not just an adult. He looked like the scariest man I’d ever laid eyes on - and he definitely had the means to hurt me.

It felt hard to breathe. My chest heaved as if I’d just run a mile. My shoulder blades pressed uncomfortably against the rock behind my body and I felt paralyzed with fear. All I could think about was the way the frigid stone nipped at the back of my neck. I felt myself sliding down the wall, ever so slightly as my own weight slugged me down.

His head was upturned, looking down at me. His hand gripped his wand so hard his knuckles were white. I could tell from his eyes that he was deep in angry thought.

I felt tears prick my eyes as I turned over what could be going through his mind. I laid my palms flat against the wall, my fingers twitching at the sudden brisk. 

Everything felt hot and cold and I couldn’t look at him anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, my head turned in a flinch and I nearly ground my teeth together clenching my jaw.

What was he going to do to me? What were school rules about killing a girl no one knows? Was it something his father could find a way to pardon, regardless of the rules?

I had slid all the way down to the floor without realizing it and my arms guarded my chest. I was curled up into a ball on the floor against the bricks behind me. I felt and looked utterly pathetic and powerless.

I didn’t realize I was actually crying until I tasted salt in my mouth.

After what felt like an eternity of stillness as I waited to die, I opened my blurry eyes. I took in a sharp, quick breath of shock when I noticed he was bent down, his face parallel to mine and only an arms length away. I jolted backwards, smacking my head on the wall.

The pain seared and my breathing was still unsteady. His face was filled with curiosity and what looked like a twinge of guilt. I must have been imagining it, though, considering I wasn’t sure a reptile like him was capable of guilt.

He slowly outstretched a hand to me, straightening his legs back to a stand. I eyed his hand and his face wearily, back and forth, searching for some kind of falter. Some bubble of amusement. Something to tip me off to whether or not he’d drop me or laugh in my face for accepting his help.

There was nothing. The guilt and curiosity had evaporated, leaving a poker face.

My stomach lurched as I shakily put my hand in his, expecting him to make some rude comment about needing to wash away the dirtiness he was convinced coursed through my veins.

He didn’t.

Instead, he pulled me up, one hand around mine and the other on my elbow on the opposite arm. Once I was fully upright, he retracted his arms to his own body, dusting his hands off on his pants.

There it was. He had wordlessly done it. Attempted to wipe his hands clean of merely touching a muggleborn witch as if I'd been some kind of nasty task. He noticed my narrowed eyes at his action and rolled his.

“Your robes were dusty.” He muttered, surveying me up and down. It made me feel a bit sick noticing that he felt the need to give an explanation. 

He motioned to the hall ahead of us, swallowing and examining the corridor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“At the end, turn left and take the stairs up. It’s Flitwick’s class- your head of house. I’ve got better things to do.”

He turned and disappeared back down the hallway we came from before I could utter a word. Unlike earlier, he’d walked without much noise at all. It was as if he had become a ghost.

[fivenightslaughter]

you can respect and admire and even *gasp* like celebrities without stanning them

i like plenty of celebrities. i like them because they're pretty, i like them because they make good music, i like them because they act well, i like them because they make me laugh and smile and i like them because they provide me with joy and entertainment.

but i never, not for a second, pretend to know a celebrity. they are strangers. they are not people i know. they are not people i trust.

at any point, someone i admire can do a shitty thing, and that sucks. it sucks because you want the people you admire to be better than that. but if they do a shitty thing, it is NOT your fucking obligation to defend them or help them or rationalize it.

celebrities are people, and you're totally allowed to admire and respect people. but when people do shitty things, it's not your job to leap to their defense.

[fivenightslaughter]

lifeless (D.M.)

CHARITY BURBAGE HAD DIED BEFORE HIS EYES.

warnings: character death, graphic. dark

word count: 794 

He was scared. He'd never been more afraid in his life and in that moment, it was written all over his face.

All his life, he'd been taught to hate. Blood purity was front and foremost --prejudice was drilled into him fervently.

He knew that as things got darker, this wasn't what he wanted. None of it. To his parents, to Lucius Malfoy, that would make him a coward. It would make him stupid and unloveable, practically unbearable. So he said nothing.

At first, it felt good to be a bully. To mirror his father and talk down to those who had less than him. It felt good to know that he was powerful and that he resided at the top of the food chain and it felt fucking great to know that he could stand with the only thing capable of rivaling Harry Potter.

Maybe he'd done this all to please his father, to prove that some orphan that lived under a fucking staircase wasn't- no- couldn't be better than his own son. The son he'd given every opportunity, strong connections, and a steely and cold version of love that didn't really feel like love at all.

Maybe he could have been friends with Potter, in some kind of alternate universe. In one where Draco weren't outshined and shadowed by the stupid, reckless boy.

Or in another one, where Draco was a normal boy that didn't spew hate towards anyone who challenged him. One who didn't care if he was outshined.

He questioned whether or not he could exist quietly, if he was capable of not rubbing his wealth or status in someone's face. He asked himself whether or not he really did enjoy shoving people into the dirt under his shoes.

It almost hurt to not be able to settle on an answer.

He knew deep down his father had believed he was raising his son in his image, to be cold and calculating. That was why he treated him the way he had. And in a way, he suceeded. But the damage of his upbringing snaked its way into every corner of his mind.

He could never be like his father.

For more reasons that one, an easy one being that his father hadn't taken Narcissa into account. He hadn't expected her genes to weave so tightly into Draco.

He inherited his mother's stubborness and intelligence. And it became this rebellious knot in his stomach, twisting deep down in his gut asking what made half-bloods or muggle-borns any less than him. It urged him to question the senseless and irrational anger that had clouded his whole life thus far.

From what Draco had seen, they were exceptional. More than, really. He noticed how Hermione had excelled despite her blood status and how Ravenclaws hadn't consisted of only purebloods like Slytherin had.

Did that mean that being powerful had no relation to intelligence? Or that being pureblooded didn't guarantee the immense skill and power he thought it had?

He noticed how the headmaster of the school wasn't full blooded, and how rumors flurried that Voldemort himself wasn't a pureblooded wizard either. It seemed some of the strongest wizards weren't made up of their heritage, but rather their own personalities.

It made him wonder. It made him begin to think that being pureblooded didn't guarantee you intelligence and top marks. It didn't guarantee you anything except an excuse.

An excuse to hate, to blame. And as he was finding out, an excuse to kill.

Charity Burbage floated in front of him, contorted and controlled on the table. Her face was twisted in agony and fear. She pleaded for her life.

Charity Burbage, a stupid professor for a stupid subject at a stupid fucking school that he couldn't stand.

He tried to summon the steel he knew coursed through his father.

A stupid professor for a stupid subject from a stupid school. He repeated to himself in his head. Over and over, but he struggled to mean it.

Draco tried not to focus on her words as she pleaded towards Severus, another Hogwarts professor.

"Severus please..." She choked out

Draco tensed, allowing a glance towards Snape. He was stoic and uncaring. His stomach turned uneasily.

"... we're friends." Tears slipped from her eyes.

Voldemort outstretched his wand and smiled, a toothy shark-like smile. Something akin to pure joy, which rattled Draco to his core.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She hit the table with a sickening thump.

Charity Burbage had died before his eyes.

Charity Burbage had died before his eyes.

Suddenly, he couldn't control the way his lips parted to gasp and his face struck with fear.

She was a professor for a subject at the school that he attended. She was a teacher. She could have been his teacher if he weren't so adamantly stubborn about attending Muggle Studies.

And now, she lay limply.

Lifelessly, her glossy eyes stared into Draco's. They pleaded for the part of him deep down that questioned the Dark Lord. Questioned every single person at this table.

Dead.

[fivenightslaughter]

hi do you have a taglist for wicked serpentine? if yes can you add me?

of course! :)