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slyther-ink · 3 years

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love this, they were getting closer and then boom! smth went wrong. people don't improve at a steady rate so this is really interesting to see! i greatly approve of the overly buttered toast.

@dorthyanndrarry i love the story so much! your characterisation is *amazing* and i love the progression of the plot! it's not smooth sailing for these two which is why its so fun to read (every update it's like what are these too going to get up to now lmao) 💚💚💚 happy new year!! please don't work yourself too hard!

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -21-

Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit, mentions of suicide, mentions of panic attacks

suggested rating: Mature

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 20 ||

Draco wasn’t able to fall back asleep. He wasn’t properly cold, but he had trouble sleeping if he wasn’t entirely warm and cosy, or extremely drunk. But he had been able to slip into a dozy half-sleep, where his mind felt as thick as syrup, but he was just awake enough to feel the softness of the blanket around him.

A horrible blaring beep began to sound from Potter’s nightstand, startling Draco back to full wakefulness. He opened his eyes, looking over Potter’s shoulder. The noise was coming from a small black box that Draco guessed was an alarm clock. Potter had turned it face-down so that the time couldn’t be read.

Draco sank back into the duvet, his desire not to move outweighing his annoyance at the noise.

It took forever for Potter to finally groan and roll onto his back, his hand blindly patting around the table for the alarm. He knocked several magazines onto the floor and nearly sent his glasses after them before finally finding the clock. He picked it up, squinting at the glowing red numbers like they had personally injured him, before fumblingly managing to turn it off. Potter put the clock back on the nightstand, where it slipped off and thumped onto the floor, and grabbed his glasses.

Draco quickly closed his eyes so Potter wouldn’t catch him staring and did his best not to laugh when he felt Potter start in surprise.

“…fuck…” Potter hissed under his breath.

“Did you forget about me?” Draco asked. He felt Potter jump again and laughed properly this time.

“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t think you’d still be here,” Potter said grumpily.

“You should have kicked me out then.” Draco stretched as he sat up.

“I fell asleep,” Potter said.

“I have to say, it was rather impressive how quickly you managed it,” Draco said.

Potter shrugged, “When your asshole cousin liked to jump on your ceiling every chance he got growing up, you learn to sleep through anything.”

“I was referring to the fact that you fell asleep so easily with me here,” Draco said.

Potter blinked and frowned to himself, “Well…”

“I know, I know,” Draco said, “I’m hardly worth worrying about.”

“That’s not-”

Draco yawned and absently covered his mouth with his hand, “It’s so early.”

“It’s not that early,” Potter said.

“It feels like it is,” Draco said.

“I doubt you got much sleep,” Potter said.

Draco nodded. Then looked over at Potter with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Potter said suspiciously.

Potter was still lying in bed with the blankets pulled up to his chest.

“You look like a Victorian maiden I’ve walked in on in her bedclothes,” Draco said.

For a second, Potter’s grip tightened on the duvet, making him look all the more like a scandalised young lady. Draco had to laugh.

Potter scowled at him and then sat up with a huff.

The duvet slid down Potter’s bare chest, showing lean muscles under his tanned skin. His smattering of chest hair narrowed to a trail that led down, the cut of his hip adding another pointing arrow, all of it leading to something just barely hidden by the red fabric over his lap. The skin of Potter’s back shifted as he rolled his shoulders. Draco’s eyes traced down those shoulders, following the line of Potter’s spine, all the way down to the mattress, his back curving into his a-

Potter pointedly cleared his throat.

Draco quickly looked away, feeling his face go unbearably hot, and only partly out of embarrassment.

“So maybe you should leave first,” Potter said.

“Do I have to?” Draco said without thinking and then desperately wished he could shove those words back into his mouth and choke on them.

Draco turned around, his back to Potter, letting his legs hang over the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry. I’m not the type to hit on straight blokes,” he said with an awkward laugh.

Potter was quiet for so long that Draco looked back over his shoulder at him.

“Go put the kettle on,” Potter said, ruffling his hand through his hair, “I’ll make something for us to eat after I’m dressed.”

Draco got to his feet, leaving the bedroom a bit too quickly. He went over to the sink, grabbing the kettle along the way and putting it under the spigot. Then he hung onto the edge counter for dear life as he sank down to his knees.

Harry Potter slept in the nude. Under all those baggy misshapen clothes, Harry Potter had a body reminiscent of a Greek statue. Harry Potter had left a significant pause after-

No.

Draco let his forehead thump against the cabinet. He wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t even going to consider it. He was Draco-bloody-Malfoy, death-eater and all-around failure, and that in there was Harry Potter, hero and fucking saviour of the wizarding world. The fact that Draco was staying here at all was a fluke, a mark of Potter’s pity and guilt. It had nothing to do with Draco.

The kettle began to overflow. Draco dragged himself back up, turning off the faucet and dumping out some of the water before he put it on the stove to boil.

When Potter finally came out of his room, the kettle had begun to whistle. Draco grabbed two mugs and filled them as Potter opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs and some bacon.

“Start some toast, would you?” Potter said.

Draco dropped a teabag in each cup and then did as he was told, putting two slices of bread in the small blue toaster in the corner of the counter. When he turned around, Potter was watching him with narrowed eyes.

“What?” Draco said.

“You’re too quiet,” Potter said.

“You ought to enjoy it while it lasts,” Draco said.

Potter shook his head with a frown, “How do you want your eggs?”

“I like a runny yolk,” Draco said.

Draco pulled the teabags out and vanished them, making his tea how he liked it. He put a paltry one spoonful of sugar in Potter’s, though he wasn’t precisely sure it that was how Potter took it. Draco sat on the counter next to the toaster, cradling his mug in his hands.

Potter’s frown grew.

Draco almost laughed. “Fine. Why do you live here, Potter?”

“What?” Potter looked up.

“You said I was too quiet. So, why do you live here?” Draco asked.

The bacon fat hissed and spit, and Potter turned back to the pan, “I like it.”

“It’s small,” Draco said.

“I don’t need bigger,” Potter said.

“I would disagree,” Draco said.

Potter laughed, “Of course, you would.”

“Your bathroom is only slightly larger than a closet,” Draco said.

“It’s bigger than your old flat’s bathroom-”

“My flat is a piece of shit, Potter,” Draco said, “I specifically rented it because it was the cheapest one I could find. You ought to have something nicer.”

“London is expensive,” Potter said.

“We’re wizards, Potter; we can literally aparate anywhere. So that is a shit excuse,” Draco said.

Potter took the bacon out of the pan and divided it between two plates. “What if I wanted to live in London?”

Draco sighed, “Fine. I suppose. You could still afford something nicer.”

“I like it here,” Potter said.

Draco jumped slightly as the toaster popped. He grabbed a slice and smeared butter on it quickly, wincing at the heat. “You’re the Golden Boy; you have no right to be living in some tiny London flat like a normal person.”

“This may have escaped your notice, but I am a normal person,” Potter said.

Draco pointed at Potter with the piece of toast, “That is a blatant lie.” He was, after all, Harry Potter. But Draco wasn’t going to say that, “You’re a creepy stalker who quite clearly needs to have your head checked. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

Potter laughed and grabbed the toast out of his hand, “I’m just another bloke.” He held the toast in his mouth as he dished out a couple eggs on each plate and carried them over to the table.

Draco made a face.

“Come on, even you can’t eat eggs while sitting on the counter,” Potter said.

Draco plucked the other piece of toast from the toaster and quickly spread butter over it, “You underestimate me,” he said, even as he slipped off the counter.

Draco dropped into the chair across from Potter.

The eggs on Potter’s plate were both broken, one from the pan, the yolk mixed in with the whites and cooked hard, the other slowly oozing across his plate where he had broken it trying to get it out of the pan. Potter pushed a plate in front of Draco. It had five strips of bacon and two eggs, the yolks perfectly intact.

“Thank you,” Draco said, mainly about the eggs but also to be polite.

Draco scooped out his egg yolks, spreading them across his toast before placing the bacon on in a neat line. He topped the whole thing off with the egg whites. Draco carefully picked the toast up with both hands and managed to take a bite without any of the components falling off.

Potter was staring at him.

Draco frowned with his eyebrows.

Potter shook his head, “I don’t remember you being like this at school.”

Draco glared over his eggs, “Like what?”

Potter struggled to find the right word before finally settling on, “Messy.”

“I wasn’t allowed,” Draco said.

“At school?” Potter said.

Draco nodded, remembering all the stiff and formal meals at home and the slightly less stiff but still formal meals at school.

“No one was watching us at school,” Potter said.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

“What? Your parents weren’t there; I’m pretty sure I’d remember if they were,” Potter joked.

Draco huffed a faintly laugh and paused before taking his next bite, “Our peers were.”

“Were there, you mean?” Potter said, “So?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Your friends may have not cared, but my peer group was quite different.”

Potter frowned.

“Don’t bristle at me,” Draco said, “We all had a reputation to uphold.”

This did not improve Potter’s expression.

Draco sighed and rephrased it, “Consider all of us from the higher social set to be like-”

Potter’s frown grew.

“-slavering hyenas, just waiting for a single moment of weakness to drag someone down the hierarchy and claw their own way up over the bodies of the fallen.”

Potter blinked in surprise and then confusion.

“If I acted like this during meals at school, my friends would tell their parents, who would tell their friends, who would tell their friends, and soon enough, everyone would be saying my parents raised a mannerless brat. I would look bad, and my parents would look bad for not teaching me better,” Draco said and took another bite.

“Who cares what other people think of you?” Potter said.

“I did. Quite a lot,” Draco said.

“Well… that’s stupid,” Potter said.

It was Draco’s turn to frown.

“You could have just rebelled and done what you liked,” Potter said.

“And what would that have got me?” Draco said.

Potter shrugged, “Freedom.”

“And nothing else,” Draco said flatly.

“My godfather Sirius ran away. His parents were pricks, so he left,” Potter said.

He seemed proud. Draco’s first inclination was not to agree, remembering the wanted posters and newspaper articles after Black had escaped Azkaban. And then, Draco recalled the Sirius Black from Potter’s photos, young and handsome with his arms always wrapped around his friends and a cheeky grin on his face.

“Was he still in school?” Draco asked.

Potter nodded.

“Where did he go?” Draco asked.

“My dad’s parents took him in. He said they were more like parents than his own ever were. They treated him like a second son,” Potter said.

Proud. Potter seemed so proud. And it grated against Draco’s nerves.

Draco stood up, going back to the toaster. “More toast?” he asked flatly.

“What?” Potter asked, confused.

“Do you want more toast?” Draco asked, sucking his fingers clean before taking a slice of bread from the sleeve.

Potter stared at him blankly.

Draco licked it off a smear of butter on the back of one finger and put another slice in anyway. He would eat it if Potter if didn’t.

“Uhh…” Potter coughed.

When Draco looked over, Potter was staring down at his plate red-faced.

Draco raised an eyebrow and turned to the toaster, looking around the bread at the red-hot wires inside the little muggle machine. He hovered his hand over the top of the toaster, the rising heat warming his fingers.

“…So I’ve been thinking-” Potter said.

“Never a good sign,” Draco muttered.

Potter narrowed his eyes and continued, “-about what you’re going to do next.”

“Do?” Draco said suspiciously.

Potter nodded, fiddling with a strip of bacon on his plate that was surely cold, “Like, now that you’re sober, you could get a job.”

Draco laughed.

Potter did not.

“You’re serious,” Draco said in dismay.

“You can’t just do nothing,” Potter said.

“Can’t I?” Draco said stiffly.

“The Malfoy family had everything seized by the Ministry after the war; you can’t have much left,” Potter said.

Draco frowned at the reminder and said nothing.

“What do you want to do?” Potter asked.

“Have you forgotten I have no NEWT’s or A levels?” Draco said.

“Nope,” Potter said, finally eating the bacon he had been waving around. “But not every job needs those, you know? There are plenty of-”

“What?” Draco interrupted, “You want me to be a clerk?”

Potter rolled his eyes, “Plenty of people are, you stuck up prat. You could work in all sorts of shops. Even somewhere fancy, like some posh tea shop or a fancy bookshop.”

The toaster popped, and Draco pulled out a slice. The heat burned his fingers. Draco spread so much butter across the bread it melted into puddles and ate it quickly before it cooled.

“I don’t need a job,” Draco said shortly, spreading butter on the other piece of toast and taking a bite.

“I thought that was for me,” Potter said.

“You never answered me, so I took that as a no,” Draco said. “You can make your own toast.”

Potter frowned, “I made you eggs and bacon.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Draco said, finishing the toast.

Potter’s frown grew, “What the fuck, Malfoy?”

“Just leave me alone,” Draco said.

“That’s not how the deal goes,” Potter said.

“The deal is whatever I want,” Draco snapped.

“That’s what you get, yeah,” Potter said, “But my half of the bargain is that I get to save you.”

“You can try,” Draco sneered.

Potter narrowed his eyes, “Are you breaking the bargain we made?”

“No!” Draco snapped, “My getting a job isn’t- isn’t going to save me. What the fuck does that even mean? You should have worded your part more carefully because ‘saving me’ could mean anything.”

“Malfoy-” Potter got to his feet.

“The only specific part of your half of the bargain was that I stop drinking and sleeping around,” Draco said.

“Your side of the bargain is just as vague,” Potter said.

“It’s whatever I-”

“And my saving you is what I think saving you is,” Potter interrupted. “Either we both get to be vague, or neither of us do. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite, Malfoy.”

Draco clenched his teeth.

Potter stood there, waiting for Draco to respond.

“I-” Draco started.

A stream of silvery light snaked in through the window and took the ghostly shape of a capybara patronus in front of Draco.

Iris’ voice came out from the capybara, “Hello, Draco. I know you may feel apprehensive about returning to our group counselling sessions. I have spoken with Jasmine, and I feel like the two of you may have more in common than you might think. I would like to ask you to please consider attending and if you do, come half an hour early so that we can talk things out.”

The capybara serenely sat down before the magic dissipated and its form dissolved.

“It seems I have an appointment,” Draco said, drawing his wand.

“Malfoy-”

“You have a job, don’t you? You’re going to be late at this rate,” Draco said. He cast a cleaning charm over himself.

“We’re wizards; we can literally apparate anywhere,” Potter said sarcastically.

“I have to go,” Draco said.

“You’re so full of shit,” Potter said.

Draco did his best to ignore him, focusing his mind on the apparition zone at St Mungos.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this. We’re going to talk about it later,” Potter said right before Draco apparated away.

💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 Happy new year! so, okay, I don’t normally do this, but I’d really like to ask, but you don’t have to answer, what you think of the story so far? Is it interesting? what do you think of harry and draco? is it going okay? it’s been a rough couple weeks and I just really want to hear some feedback, if that’s okay. thank you💜

Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)

Keep reading

#dorthyannwrites #WYWDM #drarry #drarry fanfiction #harry potter #draco malfoy

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slyther-ink · 3 years

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*Halloween*

Sirius, dressed as McGonagall: I can't wait to see her expression.

James, dressed as Dumbledore: Hell yeah!

*Great Hall*

McGonagall, dressed in pure leather, black hair in a bun with a wand: *with the most shit eating grin* Checkmate.

#hahahaha #marauders era #minerva mcgonagall #sirius black #james potter

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slyther-ink · 3 years

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yes I 100% l love the fact that draco trusts harry more, the morbid seriousness vibe and that it was a nightmare/share the bed for comfort!!! 💚

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -20-

suggested rating: Mature

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 19 ||

Chapter 10

“You have to do it.”

On some level, Draco knew it was a dream because this isn’t how it went.

“Kill me, Draco,” Dumbledore was saying. “It’s part of the plan. You must do it.”

Before, Draco had said he had to because Voldemort would kill him if he didn’t. And probably the rest of his family, but Draco assumed he’d be dead before he could find out.

It was supposed to be cold. Draco remembered being so cold his fingers hurt, but the dream only held the fear, paralysing and horrible. He knew what he had to do, but… he had never killed anyone, couldn’t imagine killing anyone.

You had to mean it to cast an unforgivable curse. And somehow, Draco knew in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t do it, couldn’t mean it enough to cast the spell. Or maybe, he could, that Draco could kill Dumbledore that- he didn’t know how to see himself as that person, to live with himself as that person. It was far, far better to be the coward and never know.

“I can help you,” Dumbledore said, his pale blue eyes- Draco could remember the colour, but he couldn’t remember his expression. Had it been imploring or pandering, or had Dumbledore simply been buying time?

“I can protect you and your family,” Dumbledore said, or was that-? It had been something like that.

Draco tried to shake his head, to leave that horrible tower but couldn’t seem to move; his legs felt like they were made of lead.

“I knew. I knew about your mission since the beginning. Professor Snape told me everything,” Dumbledore told him. “He was my spy. I knew about the necklace and the poisoned mead. I let you stay here to protect you.”

That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right. Draco didn’t want to be here; he didn’t want to see this. He just wanted to forget. He didn’t want to think about any of this.

Draco looked up, feeling a presence by his side.

Professor Snape was standing beside him. Around both of them, blurred into looming shadows, were the other deatheaters, so much bigger and stronger than Draco had ever been. And as Draco became more aware of them, he saw flashes of their expressions, how annoyed and impatient with him, and he felt smaller and smaller.

Professor Snape grabbed him by the back of the neck, his hand twisting the material of his robes tight around his throat.

Draco remembered this, but it was from when they were escaping. Professor Snape had pushed him through the fighting and out of Hogwarts by the nape of his neck like a dog.

There was no running this time.

“You have to kill him, Draco,” Professor Snape said.

“It was always going to end this way,” Dumbledore said. “You never had a choice.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Professor Snape said, “You must do this.”

Draco couldn’t. He couldn’t-

Professor Snape’s grabbed Draco’s wrist with his other hand, raising Draco’s wand to point at Dumbledore.

Draco desperately tried to pull away even as his robes grew tighter and tighter around his throat until he couldn’t breath and-

Draco woke with a violent start. He sat up, frantically throwing the blankets off himself and gasping, looking frantically around the room until his thoughts calmed enough to recognise where he was. Potter’s flat.

He went from feeling suffocatingly hot to shivering as his sweat began to cool on his skin. Draco slowly peeled the softest blanket from the pile and pulled it around his shoulders. His shivering didn’t stop even as he began to warm.

Draco found his wand under his pillow and looked around for his shoes. He could just go out for a moment, get a drink and come back. Potter would never know he left. The smell- he could brush his teeth, and a cleaning charm would take care of his clothes. Just enough to wash the dream out of his mind.

He stood up and tiptoed into the kitchen, wincing at every creak. The street lights from outside cast a faint light onto the table where two mugs still sat from the night before. Draco stopped, wavering on the balls of his feet.

He didn’t owe Potter anything. He didn’t have to… He could just leave.

Draco didn’t want to remember.

He didn’t….

Draco pulled the blanket tighter around himself and went to the door, twisting the knob and pushing it open.

“Potter,” Draco said, stepping into Potter’s bedroom.

The lump in the bed shifted.

Draco walked over to the bed, “Potter, wake up.”

Potter made some sort of unintelligible noise and rolled away from Draco.

Draco walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled onto empty space, “Wake up,” he said, prodding the lump.

Potter pushed the duvet down and glared at Draco, his voice rough with sleep “I have to work in the morning.”

“I-” Draco stopped, unsure what to say. He couldn’t tell him the truth; the truth was stupid. Here he was, crawling into Potter’s bed after a nightmare like a child. He didn’t even know what he wanted. He should have just left. Got wasted. Fucked someone and moved back into Elle’s flat-

“What is it?” Potter asked, his brow furrowing. He… he almost sounded concerned.

Draco looked down at the duvet, the red colour muted almost to black into the room’s low light.

“Malfoy?” Potter asked, that concerned tone still in his voice.

Draco blinked and then squeezed his eyes shut, wondering why the fuck he suddenly felt like crying. He bit his lip, worrying it between his lips before finally saying, “When… in sixth year, when he made me take the mark and gave me my mission, Professor Snape was there, he knew.”

“Yeah?” Potter said.

“So- So then,” Draco stumbled over his words, “As soon as I came to school, Dumbledore knew.”

After a moment, Potter nodded slightly against his pillow, “Yeah. He would have known.”

Draco sniffed hard, struggling to keep his voice steady, “Then why didn’t he stop me?”

“You were safer in Hogwarts, I think,” Potter said, “That’s what he said on the tower.”

Draco looked up, eyes wide.

“I was there, under my invisibility cloak. Dumbledore petrified me, probably so I couldn’t do anything stupid,” Potter said.

Draco shook his head.

“What?” Potter asked.

“I could have- I could have killed someone, and he- he just-!” The world blurred as Draco’s eyes began to fill with tears, “How is that safer? For anyone?!”

“Malfoy…”

“He should have stopped me. He should have-” Draco gulped, swallowing hard, “He should have done something!”

“Would you have let him help you?” Potter asked cautiously.

“Yes.”

“You sounded… proud of your mission on the train,” Potter said.

“Well, I was fucking stupid!” Draco snapped, hurriedly wiping his eyes, “After a couple months, I knew that. I knew I was stupid- stupid- so fucking stu-”

“Malfoy,” Potter reached out and grasped Draco’s forearm.

“I should have been arrested-”

“That would have given away Snape being a spy,” Potter said.

“After the first time- I nearly killed-” Draco gulped, “That would have been plenty of evidence.”

“You wouldn’t want to go to Azkaban,” Potter said.

“It couldn’t have been worse than- than everything that happened,” Draco said. “I would have rather been in Azkaban than that house.”

Potter squeezed his arm.

Draco let himself slump over onto the bed. He drew his knees up to his chest and pulled the blanket up to hide his face.

“I- …okay,” Potter said.

“I nearly killed your best friend,” Draco said.

Potter sighed and let go of Draco’s arm.

Draco shivered, but before he could miss the small warm touch, Potter had sleepily slung his arm over Draco’s shoulder.

“He wasn’t the best Headmaster,” Potter said.

That seemed like a gross understatement to Draco.

“He was… more of a General. He cared more about helping the entire wizarding world rather than one person,” Potter said.

“That’s stupid,” Draco muttered.

Potter yawned. “Yeah, well, it worked out in the end.”

Draco frowned, “How?”

“You didn’t identify me at the Manor, and then Narcissa lied to Voldemort to get to you at the castle. None of that would have happened if you were in prison the whole time,” Potter said.

“It might have been better,” Draco said stubbornly.

Potter huffed, “Maybe.”

Draco peeked out of his blanket. Potter had his eyes closed and looked like he was halfway to falling back to sleep.

“I was thinking about what you said…” Potter said.

“About?” Draco said quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment but not wanting it to end either.

“Dumbledore not caring about Slytherin,” Potter said, “…he was kind of distant with everyone, really.”

“Mhm,” Draco said.

Potter took a deep breath and seemed to sink further into his pillow, “Reminds me of what they say about farmers.”

Draco hesitated, then asked, “Farmers?”

“Yeah…” Potter said.

Potter was quiet for so long, Draco thought he might have fallen asleep.

“that… farmers don’t name their pigs. You don’t want to get too attached to something that’s going to slaughter,” Potter murmured.

Draco shuddered. Potter didn’t notice, his breathing slowing and evening out into sleep. Being able to fall asleep so easily seemed astonishing to Draco. He envied Potter, really. Not that that was terribly surprising.

Draco knew that he probably should go back to his own bed, but he didn’t want to. Potter hadn’t kicked him out, so he would stay.

Draco carefully rolled closer to Potter so that Potter’s arm, loosely hanging over Draco’s side, rested against more across his back. Draco closed his eyes, the sound of Potter’s breathing and the warm touch chasing away the last vestiges of his nightmare.

💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 Happy winter solstice! I’m happy that here in the northern hemisphere the darkest day has come so that it can get lighter and lighter until spring. I miss the sun 🌞

Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)

Keep reading

#dorthyannwrites #WYWDM #drarry #Harry Potter #draco malfoy #drarry fanfic

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slyther-ink · 3 years

Text

ooo love the character development!! and the last scene is so cute :)

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -19-

suggested rating: Mature

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 18 ||

“Nothing. He didn’t do anything,” Potter said all in a rush.

No one said anything.

“I just thought-” the words caught, and Potter quickly cleared his throat, “I mean, no one’s seen Malfoy in ages, and then he just turns up in muggle London? It was suspicious.”

Granger and Weasley’s frowns grew.

“He was going around to different bars every night, talking to different muggle every time-”

“That’s just being a slag, Potter. I’m pretty sure it’s not against the law,” Draco spoke up for the first time since they had come in.

Granger and Weasley’s attention snapped to him, and Draco did his best not to cringe back.

“Did you ever just think to ask?” Granger said with an exasperated sigh.

“I told him,” Draco said sourly, “He didn’t believe me.”

“Ask the muggles Malfoy slept with, I mean,” Granger said, ignoring Draco.

Weasley nodded, “You could have interviewed them afterwards to find out what was going on.”

“What if he used a memory charm on them?” Potter said, “or was stealing and leaving charmed duplicates of whatever he was taking or-”

“Did you check for magic trace?” Weasley asked.

“…Yes,” Potter admitted reluctantly.

“And?” Granger prodded.

“There was none.” Potter went on defensively, “But that didn’t mean he could have been slipping them a potion or using muggle methods-”

“Harry,” Granger said with a sigh.

“It’s Malfoy,” Potter said.

Granger rolled her eyes, “While Malfoy may be smart, he’s not that clever.”

“Hey!” Draco said. “I’m plenty clever.”

They ignored him.

“You should have brought it to Robards if you thought he was doing something illegal,” Weasley said.

“And you could have talked to us,” Granger said.

“I was going to just as soon as I had more evidence,” Potter said.

“What did you have?” Weasley asked.

“I- It was-” Potter waved a hand almost helplessly as if to say, It’s Malfoy.

Which, while stupid, Draco had to admit there were plenty of others in the wizarding world who would have agreed with Potter.

Weasley sighed and rubbed his temples, “In sixth year-”

“In sixth year, I was right,” Potter said fiercely.

Weasley’s hand swept up into his orangy-red bristle brush hair, “Yeah, I guess.”

“What?” Potter’s brow furrowed, “I guess, what?”

Weasley’s hand dropped back to his side with sigh, “Mate. It didn’t matter, did it?”

Potter frowned in confusion.

“Malfoy joining Voldemort was just, always going to happen,” Weasley said, “Lucius Malfoy was his father, and he never stopped licking Voldy’s boots. The ferret was always gonna end up working for that lot.”

Draco sat back like Weasley had slapped him.

“Whether he had the mark or not wouldn’t have changed anything,” Weasley said.

The muscle in Potter’s jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth.

“And you have to admit,” Granger said, “up to that point, Malfoy might have talked a big game, but he hadn’t managed anything more than being a coward and a tattle-tale.”

Draco wobbled on the edge of the couch, almost losing his balance. He grabbed the arm of the couch and pulled himself back, inching further onto the cushions.

The sudden movement caught everyone’s attention, Weasley and Granger looking at him like they had forgotten he was there. Draco wanted to sneer at them, say something vicious, but the reflex had barely come into his mind before it was smothered by sheer numb exhaustion and a desperate desire for enough vodka to make this all go away.

“Why is he here?” Granger asked. “Is he blackmailing you?”

Potter’s brow furrowed, “What? No. No, his wallet had his rent money in it, and he- he ended up losing his flat so…” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “he’s staying here.”

Weasley frowned and shook his head, “Just rent him a bed in a hostel for a week or two until you get his wallet back from evidence processing.”

Granger was nodding in agreement, “You shouldn’t be letting him stay in your flat, Harry. It’s not safe.”

“So now it’s suddenly not safe?” Potter said incredulously, “What happened to him being a harmless coward?”

“I didn’t say he was harmless,” Granger said sternly, “Just that he didn’t seem worth worrying about back then. We’re not seventeen anymore-”

“And now we know the kind of trouble he can cause,” Weasley added grimly. “I’ve got the near-death experience to show for it.”

Draco could guess how the rest of this conversation would go. Potter would tell them that he offered the money to Draco, offered to help him, get him anything and how he had refused. That he was obviously trying to manipulate Potter somehow, or hurt him or take advantage of him somehow.

He wondered if he should just shrink down his things and leave now to save them the trouble.

“He’s staying here,” Potter said.

Draco looked up in shock.

“What-” Granger started.

“You can’t-” Weasley said at the same time.

“We made a deal, and he’s staying here,” Potter said, talking over both of them.

“Harry-” Granger said, concerned.

Weasley was shaking his head.

“You can be worried all you like, but this is between Malfoy and I,” Potter said firmly.

“You’re barmy!” Weasley said in dismay, gesturing at Malfoy, “It’s Draco Malfoy!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “and now that’s suddenly a valid argument?”

“It is in this situation, when he’s living in your flat, mumping off you!” Weasley said.

“Yeah, well, that’s part of the agreement,” Potter said.

Granger was chewing on her bottom lip, looking worried. “…Harry, would you come to St Mungo’s with us?”

“What?” Potter said in dismay.

“I know you can’t be controlled by an Imperius, but there are other potions, like love potions, that could-” Granger said gently.

“DO I look like I’m in bloody love with Draco Malfoy!?” Potter said, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

“Like a love potion, similar effects but without the-” Granger started.

“And you wonder why I didn’t tell you,” Potter snapped.

Weasley froze. Granger’s eyes widened.

“Look. I thought Malfoy was up to something, and I royally cocked up. All because I was treating him like it was sixth year all over again. And now you’re doing it as well! But it’s not, and he’s not, and we made a deal between the two of us, and he’s staying here!” Potter finished, looking furious and flushed from trying to keep his temper in check.

There was a long beat of silence, filled only by Potter taking a few deep breaths, trying to collect himself.

“Then… you trust him?” Granger asked carefully.

“He’s good,” Potter said, then corrected himself, “good as in fine.” He frowned, “As in, he’s alright.”

Weasley glanced over at Draco doubtfully.

“He might sit on countertops… and the floor, sometimes, and have a terrible sweet tooth, and be kind of a prat…” Potter shook his head to himself, “And utterly ridiculous but, he’s- he’s alright.”

“Erm…” Weasley said slowly, “that doesn’t sound all that different from how he was before.”

“Well, it is,” Potter said firmly.

Weasley and Granger had moved closer to one another, Granger’s shoulder pressed to Weasley’s arm, uncertainty radiating off them like a bad fever.

Granger slowly shifted her weight, “…Well, uhm… We know now, so you don’t have to avoid us anymore.”

She looked up at Weasley, who nodded, “We’ll see you at work. On the regular schedule?”

“Yeah,” Potter said.

“And game night?” Weasley’s suggested.

“What about it?” Potter asked.

“I mean, you don’t have to cancel it, do you?” Weasley asked.

Granger put a sharp elbow in Weasley’s side with a warning hiss, “Ron.”

“What?” Weasley hissed back.

“Don’t push it,” Granger said.

Draco just barely managed to stop himself from pointing out the utter unsubtly of Gryffindors. Silence had worked much better for him so far. If only he’d been able to hold his tongue when he was younger, he might have avoided so much fucking bullshit.

“…Maybe,” Potter said with a shrug.

“Just think about it,” Weasley said.

Granger jabbed the elbow in hard enough to make Weasley jump, looking guilty as Granger glared daggers at him.

“I’ll think about it,” Potter said impatiently, “Now, can you lot leave?”

Granger opened her mouth, but Potter cut her off.

“We can talk about this more later,” Potter said.

“Lunch? Tomorrow?” Granger suggested.

“Fine,” Potter sighed, trying to get them moving with shooing motion.

“I’ll come up to your floor,” Granger said as she walked backwards.

Potter was nodding along.

“We can go out to that little chinese place you like,” Granger said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Potter slowly pushed the door closed as they stepped out. “See you tomorrow.”

“Be safe!” Weasley’s called just before Potter shut the door.

Potter flipped the lock and leaned against the door, looking thoroughly wrung out.

They listened in silence to Granger and Weasley’s fading footsteps down the stairs, their conversation muffled to a concerned murmur as they got further away.

“You know-” Draco started.

Potter narrowed his eyes.

Draco continued, “-those friends of yours, they seem like a bad influence to me.” he sat up and leaned back over the back of the couch.

Potter rolled his eyes.

“-A bit controlling, don’t you think? I’m not sure you should be hanging out with them,” Draco said with as much faux concern as he could muster.

“Yes. Fine. I get it,” Potter said.

He watched as Potter thoroughly mussed his hair with a look of frustration writ across his face. Draco decided to shift tactics.

“Perhaps things would have gone better if I had told them I was your new house elf,” Draco said.

Potter managed a confused, “what?”

“Granger always did have a soft spot them. She might have been more inclined to like me,” Draco said.

“That’s ridiculous,” Potter said, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“I think I could pull it off,” Draco said. He cleared his throat dramatically and said in a chipper impression of an elf, “Good morrow, master, can Draco be of service?”

Potter’s smile grew, “You’d make a terrible house elf.”

Draco screwed his face up into a mournful pout, “Has Draco displeased the master? Should Draco punish himself? Draco could stomp on own foot until you are happy?”

Potter laughed, “No. No stomping of feet.”

Draco jumped to his feet, nearly tipping over on the squishy cushions. He caught himself and managed a clumsy bow, “Shall Draco prepare some tea? Or snacks for the master?”

“Get down,” Potter laughed, “you’re going to hurt yourself, you stupid prat.”

He walked over and grabbed Draco’s arm, helping him down onto the floor.

“But tea would be nice,” Potter said, heading into the kitchen and grabbing the kettle.

Draco absently rubbed his hand over his arm where Potter had held it.

“And I could order something to eat,” Potter added, “What sort of take-out do you like?”

Draco hesitated and then joined Potter in the kitchen, “…What’s nearby?”

💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜well… that was a roller coaster, I keep wondering if I should tag ‘hermione and ron are a bit shit’, since i usually write a supportive ron and hermione, but idk

Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)

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#dorthyannwrites #WYWDM #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fanfic

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slyther-ink · 3 years

Note

P.S. Draco is trans too

ooo heck yes!

#asking slytherink #hp trans headcanons #hp headcanons #anon ask

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slyther-ink · 3 years

Note

harry is definitely trans- tranfem or transmasc idk which, but both are so *chefs kiss*, ginny is genderfucked (nb?), ron is transmasc (makes the line “loved least by a mother who wanted a daughter” hit even harder), hermione is a transwoman and goes by she/they, luna is genderfluid/nb, fred and george are very gender, sirius is transmasc or genderfluid, pomona sprout is nb, oh and snape may be cis but he's supportive of trans harry and other trans ppl

ooo these are pretty cool!! ron as transmasc would deffo hit SO HARD. i agree that harry could definitely be trans! i saw a cool hc once that explored harry as nonbinary, where he realised he didn't like being called the *boy* who lived. lmao i love ginny, luna and hermione's ones! and 100% fred and george are much gender. sirius omg sirius is definitely gnc. omg professor sprout is nonbinary love it.

i have some alternative headcanons that i might share if ppl want to see the but i dont want to derail from your headcanons!

thank you so much anon!

#asking slytherink #hp trans headcanons #tysm #anon ask #hp headcanons

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slyther-ink · 3 years

Text

oooo they got closer.....

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -18-

suggested rating: Mature

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 17 ||

Draco stayed and chatted with Samuel for a while before going around to Mary’s flat.

“Hello, Draco dear!” Mary said as she opened the door.

“Can I get anything for you, Mary?” Draco asked.

Mary grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze, “No, no, I’m fine. Come in! I’ll put on some tea.”

Draco smiled and let himself be towed into the small flat. Mary made him sit on her couch, the threadbare material masked by a large crocheted fuchsia blanket draped over the top. The walls were covered in old photographs and sun-faded prints of sheep and cows in idyllic pastoral scenes. An old clock hung over the sink, and its soft ticking mixed with the dusty lavender tinted air to fill the room with its own unique kind of warmth.

Mary set an open packet of biscuits on the little coffee table, “Here. You should eat. You’re too thin.”

“I’ve always been too thin,” Draco said, taking a biscuit anyway.

“Because you don’t eat enough,” Mary said, pushing the packet to the edge of the table, bumping into his knee.

Draco smiled, “You always say that.”

Mary tutted at him and brought over two mugs, bigger than teacups but smaller than any coffee mug Draco had seen in a shop.

“Can I help-”

“No,” Mary said sharply, pointing a finger at him, “You help me enough as it is, young man.”

“Mary-”

Mary ignored him, “I’ll make the tea extra strong today, shall I?”

“What? Why?” Draco asked.

“You look tired,” Mary said.

Draco picked up a biscuit, “I always look tired.”

“You know what I mean,” Mary said. The electric kettle beeped loudly, and Mary filled up her little teapot, pale pink and painted with chickens and carefully carried it over to the table.

“Do I?” Draco said.

“It’s a very hard thing you’re doing, quitting drinking. I know it must be hard for you,” Mary said, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Elle told you?” Draco asked.

“That nice young woman Naja told me about it. She came by for tea the other day.” Mary said.

Draco groaned.

“Everyone talks here, dear. We like to keep track of one another,” Mary said.

“You’re all a bunch of gossips,” Draco said.

Mary laughed, “That too.”

Draco took a bite of biscuit. Mary always got the chocolate covered ones which were one of Draco’s favourites, only improved by the addition of jam.

“Well, I’m proud of you,” Mary said.

“It’s only been a few days. There’s still plenty of time to fall off the wagon,” Draco said.

Mary patted his arm, “You can do it. You’re a tough one.”

“You’re probably the only one who thinks that,” Draco said.

Mary tapped his arm with her knobbly knuckles in something like a playful punch, “Oh, you-”

“Have you heard from George?” Draco asked, shifting the subject.

Mary smiled brightly, “My Georgey called just the other day! He couldn’t talk long,” she picked up the teapot and filled their mugs, “He’s very busy right now. He and Kaitlyn are moving.”

“Moving? From that little flat of theirs?” Draco said.

“Yes! They’ve been saving up forever and finally were able to put a down payment on a little house,” Mary said, clapping her hands together with excitement.

“I didn’t know they were trying to buy a house,” Draco said.

“I didn’t know either. They didn’t tell me, the little rascals,” Mary said, “They said they didn’t want to get my hopes up. Of course, I wouldn’t have. I’m just every so happy for them.”

Draco smiled, “Well then, tell me all about it.”

Draco stayed longer than he probably should have and ended up having a lunch and dinner consisting of tea, biscuits and, for dessert, ham sandwiches and soup from a tin.

Potter was glaring at the television when Draco apparated back. And turned that glare on Draco before he had even found his feet.

“Where have you been?” Potter asked.

“You’re letting me crash at your flat, Potter,” Draco said as he walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with water, “You’re not my parole officer.”

“We made an agreement. You’re not supposed to be drinking or sleeping around, we agreed-”

Draco smirked, “I am capable of going outside without immediately tripping over a bottle and falling on someone’s cock.”

Potter looked briefly embarrassed before putting his serious face back on, “What were you doing then?” “Talking. With my friends,” Draco said.

Potter was frowning.

“Do you expect me to take to bed like a convalescing maiden?” Draco said, tipping his head back with the back of his hand pressed dramatically to his forehead.

“…No,” Potter said reluctantly. “It’s just… Isn’t it better to avoid temptations?”

Draco drained the glass and put it in the sink. He walked over to the couch and sat on the other end, “Potter.”

“What?” Potter said warily, looking uncomfortable.

“None of my friends really drink,” Draco said.

Potter blinked.

“And I haven’t- nor do I intend to- sleep with any of them,” Draco said.

Potter grimaced and looked at the television blankly. Finally, he said, “When I first met, err, Sam? Was it? You were smoking-”

“Some weed?” Draco said. “Yes. Samuel smokes weed for his anxiety. Sometimes, he’ll share a joint, but I don’t ask. Elle has a prescription for some rather strong pain killers, but she’s very sparing with them because the NHS are cunts, and she has to fight for every prescription she’s got. Mary drinks the occasional sherry as a nightcap-”

“So-”

Draco made a face, “I do not care for sherry.”

“But if you were desperate-” Potter said.

“Oh, fuck off,” Draco said with a sigh.

“I just…” Potter hesitated, “I don’t know.”

Draco pulled himself up onto his knees, couch springs creaking as he leaned across the cushion that separated them and huffed a breath of air on Potter’s face, “There. Do I smell like I’ve been drinking?”

Potter’s whole face scrunched up in disgust, “Ugh, what the fuck, Malfoy!” He half-pushed himself up, half-fell off the cushions, as he waved at the air in front of his face.

Draco laughed.

“You smell horrid,” Potter said.

“It’s that soup from a tin. There’s something not quite right with those things,” Draco said.

Potter got to his feet, rubbing the arm he had smacked into the coffee table as he fell.

“I mean, they had to do something to it to make it last that long without magic,” Draco said.

Potter shook his head, “Are you sure it isn’t just something wrong with your mouth?”

Draco gasped with faux outrage, “Rude.”

There was a loud ringing knock on the door, and Potter had drawn his wand too fast for Draco to follow.

“Harry? You home, mate?” A muffled, familiar Weasley voice called.

Potter’s whole body winced. He mouthed a silent, fuck.

“Use the key,” Granger’s voice said.

“But-”

“It’s for emergencies, and we’re both worried. Harry will understand,” Granger said.

Potter shook himself, taking a deep breath, “Coming!”

And before Draco could even move, Potter wordlessly cast two spells at him before pocketing his wand and going to the door.

Draco froze at the sudden surge of panic, grabbing the front of his t-shirt, heart racing under his ribcage. He looked down at himself, terrified to see what Potter had done, but saw nothing. It had been a disillusionment spell. And a silencing spell to mask his panicked breathing.

“Ron? Hermione?” Potter asked as he unbolted the deadlock, “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you’re not dead,” Weasley joked.

“It’s not funny.” Granger said, “We’re worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about,” Potter was casually trying to block the door, but he seemed slightly off even to Draco.

Granger’s eyes narrowed, and she pushed past Potter into the flat. Weasley was a quick step behind her, his wand drawn, his eyes scanning the room suspiciously.

Weasley and Granger looked pretty much as Draco remembered them. Weasley had somehow managed to become even taller but with just enough muscle that he no longer looked like an emaciated bean-pole. Granger looked, generally, less stressed. Draco always remembered her at school looking harried, with an almost permanent pinch between her eyebrows. Next to the towering Weasley, Granger looked like she had shrunk, but she was probably the same height as before.

“I really am fine,” Potter insisted.

“You’ve been acting strange-” Granger said.

“That’s not that weird,” Potter said.

“Very strange,” Granger clarified.

“And you’ve taken a bunch of time off, which is good, but yeah, you haven’t really done that before,” Weasley said. “And Robards blew up at you a couple days ago, and you wouldn’t tell me why.”

“And- well, normally, I try to ignore rumours about us since they’re usually sensationalist nonsense,” Granger added, “but quite a few people claim to have seen you leading someone who seemed hurt or ill into St Mungo’s.”

“On one of the days you took off,” Weasley said.

“It’s nothing,” Potter said, “I’ve just been… distracted.”

“We’ve noticed, mate,” Weasley said. “That’s part of it.”

Draco silently clung to the couch cushions, watching everything play out.

“Well, you know, it’s been frustrating lately. With no big cases happening, it’s enough to drive a bloke a bit stir-crazy,” Potter said quickly. “I just needed a few days out of the office.”

“And away from Kingsley’s press secretary,” Weasley said with a nod.

“But Kingsley just had you do a press conference; he wouldn’t have scheduled another one so quickly,” Granger said more thoughtfully.

Weasley blinked and then nodded in agreement.

“I just needed some time off, that’s all,” Potter insisted.

“You cancelled game night,” Weasley said, as if it were the most damning piece of evidence of all, “You’ve never cancelled game night.”

Granger nodded.

“And something’s off…” Weasley’s voice trailed off as he looked around the flat again. His eyes lingered on the couch and then stopped.

And Draco realised that the cushions were creased where he was leaning on them. He held absolutely, painfully still, praying that Weasley would just think the cushion had always been squished like that.

Potter followed Weasley’s line of sight and quickly tried to step in front of him, “Hey, you’re right. Things have been crazy lately; why don’t we go out for dinner and catch up?”

But Granger had caught on too and pulled her wand from a little beaded bag on her hip, casting a quick, “Homenum revelio.”

Draco shuddered as he felt Granger’s magic pass over him, outlining his figure in a faint glimmer that only she would be able to see.

“There’s someone here,” Granger’s wand was trained directly on him now as she backed away from the couch.

Draco knew how this would end, but he couldn’t make his body move. All he could manage was to grip the couch cushions tighter until his knuckles ached with the pressure of his fear.

Granger dispelled the charms cast around Draco and gasped. She took an involuntary step back, the end of her wand trembling as it pointed directly at his face. “Malfoy?!”

Weasley had quickly followed suit, his wand trained on Draco far more steadily, a serious expression on his face, “What are you doing here?”

“Hey. Put your wands away,” Potter said.

They both glanced back at Potter in surprise.

“Put them away,” When they didn’t comply, Potter pushed past them and stood in front of Draco, blocking their wands.

Draco felt an immediate wave of gratitude and relief wash over him even as he chided himself for it. If he hadn’t frozen up like a fucking coward, he wouldn’t have needed Potter’s help in the first place. He let himself sink down on the cushions, so he was half-hidden by the back of the couch.

“Harry?” Granger asked.

“What’s going on?” Weasley said far more suspiciously.

“Nothing-” Potter started.

“That’s bull, and you know it,” Weasley said, “Has he dosed you with something?”

“No-” Potter said.

“Are you under an Imperius?” Weasley said.

“Are you kidding?-” Potter said.

“He’s used them before. On Katie Bell and Madam Rosmerta,” Weasley said.

Potter was shaking his head in exasperation, “I can throw off an Imperio, remember?”

Draco wanted to interject that he hadn’t used it on Katie Bell, only Rosmerta. He had just wanted her to get the cursed necklace to Dumbledore. He hadn’t known Rosmerta would use an Imperius on the stupid Bell girl. He hadn’t wanted anything to happen to her. To any of them. He just- He just… he had to do something. He had to show he was trying; he had to-

Draco pressed his forehead into the cushions, plush fabric muffling his erratic breathing. Professor Snape was right there in the school. Draco didn’t know he was working for Dumbledore; he didn’t know about the promise Snape made his mother. All he knew was that the dark lord’s most trusted spy was there in the castle with him, watching him. Watching him fail.

“…-do you mean?!” Granger shouted, making Draco look up.

Both Granger and Weasley had lowered their wands to their sides

Potter winced, “It was an accident, I-”

“You stole his wallet?” Granger said.

“I just-” Potter tried.

“You stole Malfoy’s wallet,” Granger repeated, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I…” Potter’s shoulders slowly slumped in defeat as he said, “…yeah.”

Weasley’s eyes widened, “Robards.”

Potter practically flinched.

“Right after he yelled at you in his office, he lectured the whole department on jurisdiction and procedure,” Weasley said. He shook his head, “Mate-”

“Look. I am sorting it out,” Potter said.

“You don’t just sort out illegal search and seizure,” Weasley said. He rubbed his face and shot a cock-eyed glare at Draco through his fingers, “So? What did he do then?”

Draco could just make out Potter’s throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Weasley and Granger looked at one another in concern.

“Harry?” Granger prompted.

“Nothing. He didn’t do anything,” Potter said all in a rush.

💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 I don’t think notifications worked last update so I’m gonna do three weeks of tags just in case. and cause I missed ya

Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)

Keep reading

#dorthyannwrites #WYWDM #drarry #drarry fanfic

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slyther-ink · 3 years

Note

there's also a moment in OOTP, that's like "but Harry thought of Cho's anger, of Malfoy's jeering face, and a reckless daring seized him". what a list of people. his ex and Draco Malfoy.

OH MY GOD YOU’RE RIGHT! Good catch. The drarry is so real in the books. You played yourself JK.

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy

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slyther-ink · 3 years

Text

heck yes i love your takes!

Hello, Harry Potter Fandom

I was wondering, if you had written Harry Potter, what would you have done differently?

From characterization to major plot points to more details about a person, literally anything you would have changed about the story.

#what i would change about hp #hp analysis #hp headcanon

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slyther-ink · 3 years

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in response to @al-longbottom's post about what i would change if i wrote hp. here is the full explanation... (i might edit it a bit more later because this is a bit of a ramble oops)

1. more racial diversity and actually having that embedded into the story (having token characters with stereotypical names was very frustrating) i would definitely try and add more culture into backstories that influence even casual conversations etc.

2. more gender diversity especially with complex characters. more trans binary and nonbinary and honestly just well developed women characters too. we only had hermione as the main recurring character and i would love to explore her friendships with the folks in her dorm etc. as well as having some binary and nonbinary trans characters !!!! especially with the women and women adjacent side characters, they were portrayed quite shallowly sometimes. like the dislike of fleur, even though she was literally chosen from all of beaubaxtons, demonstrating her magical capability. it is possible to be feminine and powerful thank you. it was irrational of molly, ginny and hermione to all dislike her (for what seemed like her beauty?!?!) and i feel like it came back to the whole performative thing and that beautiful girls are always mean and the women jealousy thing or whatever and that was just ugh.

3. queer diversity of all kinds – deffo impossible that all the characters are straight and cis. sorry can’t accept that. i would write in my queers, lesbians, bis, pans, omnis, gays, aces, aros, demis, trans-mascs, trans-fems, nonbinary folk, genderfluid folk, sapphics, achilleans etc. etc. we exist sorry not sorry.

4. well developed character relationships. the golden trio independently making friends with other people. would love to see hermione and some study buds and ron playing chess with other folks.

5. give the full redemption arc to draco malfoy and not snape. it would have been so much more powerful to have draco redeemed (***not without him having to go through a gruelling self-discovery/self-reflection/my behaviours are wrong and i need to correct them and face the consequences of my bigotry***) because like harry, he was a child but on the other side of the war. i would write it in a way that away from his father’s shadow he gets to break out and unlearn the toxic stuff, even if that was ignited by voldemort's return (because the idea that you can unlearn your bigotry and become a better person is so so important). snape only did it because of lily and the whole toxic obsession thing, it doesn’t really count as unlearning bigotry imo

6. made it more explicit that dumbledore was a bad guy and the teachers very much enabled his behaviour. harry deserves some closure and its important not to romanticise asking a child to save the world. and also what happened with tom riddle and leaving kids abandoned until they reach hogwarts age is not ok. (i read a fic about it which i will recommend when i found it!)

7. showing mental health issues. even just school itself can be a struggle without all of the save the world pressure and only including mental health in ootp onwards where voldemort was invading harry's mind and then stuff happened. and also harry couldnt possibly be the only one.

8. having trans characters. sorry did i say that already? doesn’t matter. more trans characters please.

9. Maybe would’ve not had remus and tonks together *as it happened in the plot* because I feel like it was a little bit rushed so *if* I did keep them together then it would’ve been way more developed. however, I am slightly more partial to wolfstar so who knows….

10. show more explicitly that the houses aren't inherently good and bad!!!! that was honestly just so stupid.

#hp analysis #hp headcanon #what i would change about hp #anti dumbledore #anti snape #kind of

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