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dhr-deleted · 1 year

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2023 March - Uploaded

1Eonen1 A Bunch of Lonesome Heroes (121KB - 11 Chapters - R) Ten years into the future, as the war rages on, Hermione finds herself in enemy HQ and who but Draco Malfoy should claim victory. However, his prize is to be determined.

Ally_Strypes In Too Deep (5KB - One Shot - PG-13) Draco realizes that the choices he made in life can never be taken back He has sunk into his new life and even if he wants out, he cant, because he is simply in too deep.

Antigone_Q Words (5KB - One Shot - G) A one-shot written from Hermione's point of view as she watches Draco study in the library late at night. What do the two have in common?

AugustineRose Like A Secret | Like An Oath (153KB - Incomplete - NC-17) Hermione Granger returned to Hogwarts for a sense of normalcy, trying to outrun the ghosts of the last few years. One low night leads to a chance encounter with Theodore Nott that leaves her with more questions than answers, especially when he seems to be going well out of his way to give her a reason to get back on her feet; if it weren't for his handsome boyfriend, she might be interested, but she's never had Harry's desire to compete with Draco Malfoy for anything or anyone. But Draco isn't the boy he used to be, and Theo is more than she ever imagined he could be. What's a witch to do when these off-limits Slytherin boys are suddenly become so available? What is it about them that stirs this strange darkness in her soul? They've got scars of their own and, if anyone understands what it's like to burn, it's them.

Brinker On The Corner of Capulet and Montegue (4KB - One Shot - R) A not so innocent bystander tells what happened on the corner of Capulet and Montegue. *character death* Secerne (32KB - 6 Chapters - R) Hermione meets Draco for the first time in ten years right before he is sent to Azkaban.

CTrinity The Demonstration (15KB - One Shot - R) Hermione wakes up to find she has been held captive by Death Eaters to participate in their celebration. Violent non-con. Interaction between Hermione and a few Malfoys.

Fiery Punk Princess Clairvoyance and its Consequences (75KB - Incomplete - PG-13) Set weeks after “From Dreams to Reality”, Hermione’s newest sequence of Clairvoyant Dreams turn her world upside-down once more. With new sleeping arrangements and a complicated, changing relationship with Draco, Hermione fights to pass her upcoming NEWTs and sort out Harry’s new advances while still running her busy life. And over time, she is, along with Harry, Ron, Draco and a few others, faced with the hardest challenge she has ever faced: Fighting against Voldemort … in her Dreams!

HLG Goodbye (5KB - One Shot - PG-13) Hermione tries to save Draco on a cold winter night. Right and Wrong (5KB - One Shot - R) He knew I’d be here. He knew I’d repeat his offer over and over again in my mind until the line between right and wrong blurred, washing my morals away with it. He knew, and I hate him for that.

Humansitis The Battle For All (144KB - 14 Chapters - PG-13) It's their final year at Hogwarts. Everything they've learned and done come down to this. Our gang battles it out for love, freedom, friendship, truth, and honor. Oh! And Draco, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione get caught in a love square! Agent Granger, CIA (117KB - 10 Chapters - PG-13) Hermione's all grown up and joined the CIA. Yes, we're proud of her, but why isn't she happy? Ever since Ron left her and Harry died, nothing's been right for her...Now ten years later, their paths cross again --

Inwitari Dare You to Move (12KB - One Shot - PG) The wizarding world stands on the brink of war. In the turmoil one woman still feels like a little girl, struggling to forgive herself for her mistakes... and one man is going to make sure the high and mighty take a nasty fall. What happens when plans fail and you have to be strong? What happens when everything you believe in dissipates? Welcome to the resistance, where there is no time to mourn. It's time to make your move. I dare you. Face to Face (7KB - One Shot - PG) When two enemies had to make a choice, they had hoped it would never come to this. People tell you to follow your heart, but how can you when it's split in two? Face to face with your biggest fear, what would you decide? The stars are watching, and you can't argue with fate... To Be A Hero (7KB - One Shot - PG) Everyone is the Hero of their own life story, but what does it take to be the Hero of Hermione's story? In a world riddled with war and pain, nothing is black and white and you have to prepare for the oncoming night. True Heroes are hard to find. We Are the Lucky Ones (5KB - One Shot - PG) When the last battle is over, who is left behind to shed the tears? Who has made the ultimate sacrifice; and who has been lucky?

kishijoten A Family Affair (184KB - 25 Chapters - R) Just after his sixteenth birthday, Draco Malfoy learns of a horrifying plot against his life, forcing him to take on a new identity and adopt a new way of life. Years later, Malfoy learns that time has not stood still back home, and he finds himself dragged once again into the intrigue and danger that always surround anyone named 'Malfoy'.

Lady de Winter Hogwarts Masquerade (5 Chapters - G) Hogwarts hosts its very first Masked Ball and Hermione finds herself making a bet with Ron and dancing with a mysterious stranger. But who is it?

Lady Draherm (eldee_fic) The After Kiss (4KB - One Shot - PG-13) He shouldn’t have done it... Crafty (4KB - One Shot - G) I have other ways that will make you relax... Possible Moments (15KB - One Shot - PG-13) Draco Malfoy has turned his back on the dark side, and his family name. However, he has NO desire to fight with the side of good. During his seventh year at Hogwarts, he must deal with the Slytherins that turn on him, and the Gryffindors who don't believe him. (Written post-OotP, pre-HBP.) Tarnished (4KB - One Shot - G) Just the thought of it left her insides boiling with anger. Their Curse (112KB - 14 Chapters - PG-13) On summer vacation after fifth year, Draco Malfoy accepts a bet from a fellow Slytherin student to spend one hour in Muggle London. He gets lost, and after hours, runs into Hermione Granger. Against their will, they are connected by a curse. Draco must choose between living in a Muggle world with the Grangers for one month, and returning to the wizarding world not cured, not able to perform magic.... Weapon (19KB - One Shot - R) Hermione Granger is on the run from Aurors. Draco Malfoy, Death Eater in hiding, is not pleased when she shows up at his flat. She might just blow his and Blaise's cover, leading the Aurors right to them.

Lucia di Medici Draco Vanitas (Avarice) (8KB - One Shot - PG-13) On the eve of the Dark Lord’s triumph, Draco Malfoy has claimed the last addition to his collection. The Sign of the Asp (6KB - One Shot - PG) A series of vignettes documenting the final days before war breaks for one Draco Malfoy, proud Death Eater.

majamariamaja The Mystery Of You (33KB - Incomplete - R) Hermione's been left by her friends to fend for herself in her last year at Hogwarts. Why? Well, she won't speak about it. Then, as if she hadn't been through enough already, she(being the Head Girl) has to share a common room with Draco Malfoy(Head Boy). What will happen within those walls when they're all alone? Otherwise Engaged (268KB - 24 Chapters - R) Hermione Granger's practically perfect life is turned upside-down after meeting her former enemy at the local pub. This is her story. I froze. I wasn't alone. Was Martin here? I removed the pillow from my face and opened my eyes. It wasn't my bedroom. Where the hell was I? "Good morning, Mudblood." I screamed while jumping into a sitting position. "Malfoy?!"

Priah Falling in Love When You're Ten (287KB - 16 Chapters - R) A trove of song fics and short stories with various plotlines. Rape, desecration, suicide, jealousy, misconception, death, rejection, and everything in between. DracoHermione. R4 sex and mild themes.

twin-v Doing the Unthinkable (16KB - One Shot - PG-13) When a storm prevents Draco and Hermione from buying Valentine's Day gifts for each other, they both resort to doing the unthinkable... Sort of sequel to Reasons. Home To Stay (7KB - One Shot - G) She wants to travel, he wants to marry her. They each go their separate ways, both angry at the other. But one day, she returns... Poison (19KB - One Shot - PG-13) The last of the trilogy... Draco and Hermione's relationship has finally been revealed to their families and friends. Life's great and nothing could be better. Why, then, is the title 'Poison'? Reasons (4KB - One Shot - PG) Draco tries hard to convince himself that he hates Hermione by writing a list of the things he hates about her. But when the list falls into Hermione's hands... Two Miles from London (53KB - One Shot - PG) Hermione sees Draco looking less than his usual dignified self somewhere two miles from London, and offers to help him. She meets Draco's pesky brother, and the two Malfoys compete for the Mudblood's affection.

#updates: uploaded #dramione

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deathsdaisy · 2 years

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Dreaming of Snakes

Inspired by @chizumakiii 's art also called Dreaming of Snakes

Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: Explicit Word Count: 14.1k

Content/Warnings: referenced but never explained torture / estrangement from family

Summary: Draco has fallen out of favor with the Dark Lord, because of his father. The Dark Lord "corrects" Draco for Lucius' mistakes. The images this brings plague Draco's dreams, but a twist in what is normally a monotonous night leaves Draco questioning some things. Who does Draco turn out to be if his father lost the favor he had with Voldemort? If he was never a death eater, where would he go?

Timeline: End of 6th year, and 4 years later (EWE)

FIC & ART POST ON AO3

ART POST ON AO3 (NSFW)

Read the first chapter here \/

He has had the same dream every night since the start of sixth year. It always starts in what was his home before the Dark Lord took it for himself. Draco is being constricted by the Dark Lord’s python, Nagini. She’s wrapped multiple times around his body, bending him backwards. His feet can’t find good balance, but she’s holding him easily on her own. His mother is there, he knows that, but he can’t see her. He only hears her sobbing.

The Dark Lord’s voice is hushed as he says something about how if his father only did his job right none of this would be necessary. He’s not actually addressing Draco; Draco’s just the show in this. There are murmurs surrounding him then, but when he tries to look there is no one there.

The snake shifts and Draco can see its eyes: a horrid yellow against a dark green. Nagini constricts him a bit more and his vision starts to blur. He wants to run, to hide, but there is something keeping him from trying. It isn’t hope that the Dark Lord wouldn’t actually kill him, no. It’s the fact that not fighting would be a less painful death.

He hears a snap as his vision goes black, and the dream continues as it always does. He’s in bed at home, the sheets rumpled and his pillows thrown about. The snakes that surround him here are the same green, but they’re smaller than the Dark Lord’s monstrosity. He could wrap his hand around one of their necks, but there’s no point. He’s not sure how many there are, but there are two wrapping around his legs, another climbing up his chest, and a few seem intent on keeping his arms still. They aren’t restricting him, but Draco knows that if he makes any movement they will tense, ready to strike.

It’s as if the snakes are playing a dark game with him. There are so many. He can hear them sliding against the wooden floorboards in his room. Suddenly there’s a hiss right by his ear and he has to fight to hold in a startled yell. It’s close enough that the snake's tongue is touching his ear. It starts with a hushed voice in Parseltongue. He can’t speak the language, but this is a dream, so he doesn’t question it. He knows what it is saying, its resolve to mess with him apparent.

“You’re just a toy. A pawn to keep the real ones in line.” The Dark Lord hadn’t always said these things to Draco. He had started with a promise of power and a place beside his father. However, that façade had quickly fallen apart when his father had nearly unveiled the Dark Lord’s location.

It hadn’t been intentional, but in the Dark Lord’s eyes that was just as bad as betrayal. It became obvious that night, when the scatter of death eaters were trying to remove any traces of the Dark Lord’s whereabouts, that Draco wasn’t going to get that promised reward. He wasn’t even a true pawn, but a measly tool to use when a pawn stepped out of line.

His father didn’t really care about what that did to Draco. He was a proud man with, in his eyes, a worthless son from that point on.

However, his mother has always adored Draco, and his father has always adored his mother.

Therefore, his father’s punishment was seeing his wife distraught as her son was pulled to the brink of death in front of her, entirely unknowing if the Dark Lord would kill him now or later, the question of if entirely gone.

In the end it hasn’t been necessary to kill Draco, because Shacklebolt is a useless spineless man who had “lost” the dangerous evidence, but Draco had learned his lesson and found the illusion of grandeur gone. Knocked off a pedestal he realised he was never really on.

The snake by his head suddenly hisses loudly, opening its jaw and striking Draco’s neck. This is the part when he wakes, every time. And every time he’s in his dorm at Hogwarts, his bed carefully charmed so no one can hear it if he screams.

With no hope of going back to sleep and exams coming up he grabs his potions book and reads. He had scoffed at himself the first time, for acting like a Ravenclaw, but truly it was his favourite subject. And if the war ended with him alive, if he could have a life of his own, he’d want a potions shop. A big, white one, charmed to always stay clean, a booming business he could call his own. He hasn’t found a good name for it yet, but he knows it would have to be on the same level with all the other fancy, high end shops.

That was chapter one, read the rest on AO3

#harrydracoreversebang #harry x draco #draco fanfiction #EWE #I do not agree with the OG author on their veiws #translives matter #I had a lot of fun writing this #I've never signed up as a pinch hitter since i usually just write for the ones i want to be a part of #but i heard of this one kinda late #but ah! the fates were with me here!#the art is AMAZING #please check it out even if you don't read my fic

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cumonweasley · 2 years

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Sweet Emotion

Summary: Reader thinks Ron has feelings for her but a certain event has her thinking otherwise.

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None? I think

A/N: FINALLY I POST A RON FIC! Fun fact: this was actually the first fic I started writing when I made this account but it got put on the back burner because I started re-watching Stranger Things and thus those two Steve fics were created but anyways I hope you enjoy!!

“Hey guys!” you say happily as you walk up to your 4 friends who were eating breakfast.

“Hey.”

“Morning.”

“Good morning.”

“Morning Y/N.”

Your friends. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. You met the trio your first year at Hogwarts when you defended them against Draco and his insults, despite him threatening you by saying he’d tell his dad. But you weren’t scared of either of them. You then met Ginny the following year when Ron introduced her as his sister. Since then, you’ve been inseparable.

“Jeez, Ron, you look terrible,” you comment, sitting next to him and placing your hand on his shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

He moans about, not really giving you a verbal response so you turn your head towards Harry and Hermione, hoping they could provide you with an answer as to why Ron was looking like he was on the brink of death.

“We have a Quidditch game today,” Harry tells you.

“He’s a bit nervous,” Hermione adds.

“A bit?” you say, raising an eyebrow, “he looks like he’s about to drop dead any minute!”

“I’m fine, Y/N. Just first game jitters, that’s all.” Ron flashes you a, not very convincing, smile and against your will, butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Ron Weasley. Your friend and also the boy you’ve had a ginormous crush on since you were 13. You don’t know when it happened or even why it happened, all you know is that one day, Ron stopped being the awkward, clumsy redhead whom you thought of only as a friend and started to be attractive. Not only within his looks but his personality as well. Everything about him became attractive to you. Every little aspect of him.

You had a slight feeling that he may reciprocate your feelings because of how he’d act with you and around you. He’d always do anything to make sure he’d be beside you, whether that be standing or sitting. He had a knack for holding your hand, whether he realized it or not, and the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world to him was the cherry on top of the cake to have you believe he had feelings for you as well. There’s no way Ron could fake that kind of look.

You hadn’t told Hermione, Ginny, and Harry about your crush on Ron but they knew, unbeknownst to you. They saw how you looked at him, how you admired him, and they would smile at how infatuated you were with him. They only hoped the two of you would get together soon.

As you were rubbing Ron’s back in a comforting manner, Lavender Brown came up behind the two of you, catching the redhead’s attention, “good luck today, Ron. I know you’ll be brilliant!”

She walks away before Ron could say anything in return but he wasn’t worried about it. Instead, he snaps his head towards Harry saying, “I’m resigning. After today’s match McLaggen can have my spot.”

His hand met yours and he entwined both your fingers, causing a blush to seep through your cheeks.

“Have it your way,” Harry spoke as he slid a cup over to Ron, “Juice?”

“Hello everyone,” Luna says as you just realize she was sitting right next to you. She notices Ron’s complexion and speaks on it. “You look dreadful, Ron. Is that why you put something in his cup? Is it a tonic?”

Everyone looks at Harry as he visibly tucks away a vile of liquid into his pocket.

“Liquid luck?” Hermione says, then turns to the redhead sitting beside you, “don’t drink it, Ron.”

He looks over at you and you shake your head while giving a soft squeeze to his hand, agreeing with Hermione but he doesn’t listen and drinks it anyway.

“You could be expelled for that.” Hermione states, disapproving of her friend’s actions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry responds.

Suddenly Ron starts smiling, confidence flowing throughout his body as he stands up from the table. “Come on, Harry. We’ve got a game to win.”

The two boys leave the table and you look at Ginny and Hermione in bewilderment.

“Are they daft?” Hermione steals the words from your mouth.

“Clearly.”

You sat with Hermione as the pair of you watched the Quidditch match play out and so far, Ron was doing really good. You cheered for him as loud as you could, even going as far as standing on your seat which had Hermione laughing but you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about in that moment was showing your friend (and crush) support.

Needless to say, your team won with exceptional scores and everyone gathered in the common room to celebrate. Everyone was cheering for Ron as he stood proudly, basking in the glory of being the center of attention. You stood beside Harry and Hermione, watching your friend let the words of praises get to his head.

“You shouldn’t have done it.” you tell Harry, not taking your eyes off of Ron.

He looked so beautiful underneath the spotlight.

“I know,” he responds, “but he deserved a victory for his first game.”

“Spiking his drink with liquid luck wasn’t the way to go about it though.” you face Harry as you spoke.

He pulls the vial out of his pocket, showing you that it hadn’t even been opened.

“You didn’t put it in?” he shook his head and you smiled, realizing Ron did it all by himself.

“Ron only thought you did.” Hermione confirmed. “Nice work, Potter.”

The three of you turn your attention back toward your friend and your smile slowly dropped when Lavender Brown pulled Ron down and kissed him and it completely disappeared when you saw that he was kissing her back.

You bit your lip as tears threatened to fall from your eyes and you turned around, pushing your way through the crowd to get out of the room. You descend down the stairs and plop down at the bottom of the steps, hugging your knees as you let out sobs.

Yeah, you and Ron weren’t together but you thought he liked you. Even Ginny, his own sister, would tell you that she thought he had feelings for you. But with the events that just took place, it looked like he didn’t and it was even more of a confirmation that he thought of you as just a friend. Just a friend.

You feel a presence on either side of you and you don’t even have to pick your head up to know who it is. Harry lays a comforting hand on your back as Hermione placed hers on your knee, laying her head on your shoulder.

“You know how Ron is,” Harry starts, “he’s an idiot when it comes to things like this.”

You secretly wipe your tears (but honestly it wasn’t a secret, Harry and Hermione saw you do it) and lift your head up, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even like Ron like that. He’s merely a friend.” you say, trying to convince yourself rather than your friends.

“You don’t have to lie, Y/N/N. We can all tell how much you like Ron.” Hermione spoke softly, “you don’t exactly keep it a secret.”

“Yeah, Fred and George have a bet going on about how long it’ll take the two of you to get together.” Harry adds.

“Harry!” your friend exclaimed.

“What? It’s the truth!”

“Woah, woah, woah, Fred and George know?” you look between your two friends.

“Yeah, the whole school can practically see that you have a thing for Ron.” Harry spoke ever-so nonchalantly.

“What?” you look between your two friends and Harry agrees. “I swear I was good at hiding it!”

Harry laughs. “Not good enough, I suppose.”

The three of you chuckle lightly at your expense before it quickly dies down and you’re left frowning again.

“Do you think he knows I have feelings for him?” you ask.

“Not likely,” Hermione says, “like Harry said, he’s an idiot when it comes to things like this.”

You let out a long sigh and shake your head. “I shouldn’t even be upset about him kissing Lavender.”

“It’s understandable that you are.” Harry also lays his head on your other shoulder as he spoke. “Give him some time to realize, yeah?”

Before you could respond, you hear giggling throughout the hallway and in comes Ron with Lavender hanging off his shoulder. They’re in their own little world, giggling and laughing with each other until Lavender looks up and stops.

“Oops,” she breathes out and looks up at Ron, “I think this room is taken.”

She tugs on Ron’s arm in an attempt to get him to follow her down the hall but he yanks free from her grip and takes cautionary steps toward the three of you.

“Y/N?” he makes eye contact with you but you hide away in Harry’s chest, not wanting to look at him further. “What happened?” he then asks his friends, panic clearly rising in his voice at the sight of you with tears streaks down your face. “Did something happen? Did someone hurt her?”

He starts to walk closer to you, wanting nothing more than to take you in his arms and not let you go until you’ve calmed down. Lavender was long forgotten at this point and she ended up leaving the area.

When Ron finally steps in front of you, he sinks down to his knees and extends his arms out with the intention of bringing you into his chest rather than Harry’s, but Hermione stops him by slapping his hands away.

He looks at her as if she’s grown a second head. “Are you mad?”

“Leave her alone, Ronald.”

“Leave her alone?” He repeats his friend's words, “Y/N’s crying her eyes out in the middle of the bloody hall and you want me to leave her alone?”

“Just go, mate. We’ve got this.” Harry says to him in a calm tone, hoping the redhead would leave without a fight.

Ron snapped his head toward his other friend and with his eyebrows creased together he says; “No, I’m not leaving her. Not when she’s like this.” He turns his attention back to you and lays his hand on your thigh. “What’s wrong, Y/N/N? Did someone do something to you? Tell me who it was, I swear I'll beat them to a bloody pulp. No one-”

His voice raises with each word he says, clearly getting wound up at the thought of someone hurting you and you decided you’ve had enough. You slowly turn your head to face Ron, giving him a full view of what you currently looked like and his facial expression softened.

His large hands cupped your face as he whispered out, “Y/N.”

You remove his hands as he stared up at you.

“Leave me alone, Ronald Weasley,” you say, “shouldn’t you be shoving your tongue down Lavender’s throat?”

He was clearly taken aback at your sudden remark but didn’t let that phase him as he took hold of your hands.

“You’re more important right now, Y/N. Tell me what’s wrong.” he says with concern.

“Just go, Ron.” Hermione sighs, “please.”

“We’ll make sure she’s okay.” Harry adds.

This makes Ron visibly upset. Here he was trying to console his friend who was so upset about something and his other friends are telling him to leave.

“Oh, so you lot can know why she’s upset but I can’t?” he spoke angrily. “That’s rubbish! I have a right to know what’s wrong with her, just like the two of you do!”

“Leave it, Ronald.” Hermione scolds him. “You’re just going to make it worse.”

“Make it worse? How am I going to make it worse? I-”

“Go back to the dorms, mate. I promise we have it under control.” Harry says.

Ron scoffs. “I’m not going back to the bloody dorms! Y/N’s been crying in case you haven’t noticed and I’m not leaving till i know why!”

“Mate-”

“No! I said I’m not-”

“It’s because of you!” you finally exclaim, “It’s you that’s made me upset!”

His face contorts into confusion. “Me? What did I do?”

“Are you really that dense, Ron?” you suddenly stand up and he does the same.

“What are you going on about, Y/N?”

You were getting agitated at this point. Had he really not noticed the looks you gave him? Had it not registered in his brain that you’ve been subtly flirting with him for the past three years? Had he not noticed that you would go out of your way to hang out with him at any given opportunity?

Your eyes welled with tears yet again and your hands closed into fists. Hermione caught on to this and stood up beside you, grabbing hold of your arm.

“Y/N don’t-”

“I like you, you gigantic moron! How is it that everyone at this damn school can tell that I have feelings for you except yourself!? I’ve been flirting with you for the past three years! Why do you think I keep you company when you get detention? Why do you think I’m the first one to volunteer to do things with you? Because I like you.” You shout at him in anger. “And yes, I know I shouldn’t have gotten upset at you kissing Lavender tonight but honestly Ron, even your own siblings can tell that I have feelings for you, so how is it that you’re the only one who can’t!”

Ron stares at you, completely stunned as he breathed out, “You have feelings for me?”

And for some reason this angered you more.

“Is that all you can say after everything that I've just said? Was I not clear on that fact? Do I need to tattoo it on your forehead so you can understand? Yes, I have feelings for you.” you say, “but it doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters. Just forget it, honestly. You’ve made it clear tonight that you just see me as a friend.”

“Y/N-” he reaches for your hands again but you go up a step, creating a bit of distance between the two of you.

“Leave me alone, Ron. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” and with that, you turn around and rush back up the steps, toward your dorm.

“Y/N!” Hermione yells, “you just had to push her for an answer, didn’t you?” she glared at Ron before she ran after you.

Harry sighs as he pats his friends back before also retreating back to his dorm, leaving the redheaded boy in the hallway with nothing but his thoughts.

#ron weasley #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #ron x reader #ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley fic #ron weasley fanfiction

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wondernimbus · 4 years

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two sworn enemies pt. 2 — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: maybe being fancied by draco malfoy isn’t so bad, after all.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

click here to read pt. 1!

"Why is it so bloody cold?"

[Y/N] is decked out in full winter apparel; a knitted Gryffindor sweater, ear-muffs, and a scarf that she has half of her face buried in.

Sitting in the Quidditch stands with the rest of her friends, she grumbles, "It's not even a Gryffindor match. We don't really have to be here freezing to death."

"Well, it's common courtesy," says Hermione, but she's just as cold as [Y/N] is; there's bits of snow stuck in her hair and the tip of her nose is pink.

Ron snorts loudly. “We’re here to watch Slytherin lose," he says matter-of-factly, still in the process of smearing streaks of blue paint across his cheek.

[Y/N] watches him, nose scrunched. "Well, aren't you the Ravenclaw fanatic."

He gives her a grin and holds out the small tub of paint. "Want some?"

She bunches up her lips in thought, then reaches out to take it. Annoyingly enough, Ron pulls back at the last moment, grinning wider than ever, and says, "Or d'you want to show support for your boyfriend Malfoy? Hermione, why don't you turn this green—"

[Y/N] dives over Hermione and Harry to smack Ron round the head, only for the pair to hold her back and push her into her seat.

Exasperated, Hermione huffs, "Honestly, Ronald, will you stop bringing that up?" She glares at him. "You know fully well [Y/N] doesn't like it."

Ron (and Harry, although he isn't as boisterous about it as the redhead), thinks that the "blond ferret" taking a fancying to her is one of, if not the most hilarious thing to have ever happened in history. Annoyingly enough, Ron has made it a habit to tease her about it every chance he gets—this one being one of them.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Ron fancied Malfoy with how much he talks about him," grins Harry. This earns him a smatter of blue paint across his face; Ron had flicked it at him.

With one last eye-roll, [Y/N] tears her gaze away from Ron and digs her nose further into her scarf. It really is very cold; snow is falling from the sky, seeping into her clothes, some landing on her hair and on her face. Thankfully there's not so much of it that the players on the pitch wouldn't be able to see around them, but still—[Y/N] imagines that it'd be a lot colder for them, having to fly around the stadium with the cold wind whipping at their robes.

There’s a buzz of loud chatter hanging in the air as conversations from all around them overlap over one another. The entire stadium is slowly filling up; students trickle into the stands, a majority of which have adorned themselves with blue accessories as a show of support to Ravenclaw. One side of the stands, however, is entirely green. Through the snow, she can see a big serpent-shaped balloon hovering over the Slytherin side.

"They’re coming out!" someone exclaims.

Sure enough, when [Y/N] looks down at the pitch, players from both teams have appeared and congregated at opposite ends of the pitch. Slytherin and Ravenclaw; whichever house wins will play Gryffindor for the house cup. Most bets are on Slytherin, but [Y/N] would have to be dead before she is caught anywhere supporting them.

"Look, it's [Y/N]'s boyfriend," gushes Ron.

More out of habit than anything, [Y/N] shoots the redhead yet another brief, scathing look. Draco Malfoy is there, even though he's nowhere near being her boyfriend, pale face set into a stoic expression of calm as he stands with the rest of his team, one hand on his broom and the other on his hip—and this specific image has her thinking back to what happened two weeks ago on this very same pitch, except the stadium was empty and it was only the two of them on the grounds; when he'd confessed to liking her.

As if Malfoy has somehow heard her thoughts over the noise of excited chatter coming from all over the stands, he looks up, eyes sweeping the seats in search for someone before finally, they land on her.

When he meets her gaze, [Y/N]'s breath isn't knocked out of her chest, nor does she start blushing madly. But she doesn't burn red with annoyance, either. All she does is stare at him, eyes narrowed, watching as his lips split into a wide grin and he raises his hand to wave at her.

She rolls her eyes, but thankfully—thankfully, the scarf tucked around her neck, reaching up to her nose, conceals the smile that tugs at her lips.

"May I ask everyone to please find themselves in their seats before the match begins," McGonagall’s voice echoes around the stadium, giving [Y/N] a reason to break eye contact.

She tears her stare away from Malfoy’s, inhaling a deep breath through her nose, feeling oddly exhilarated.

But this isn't anything new. That slight feeling of breathlessness, that unfamiliar sensation tickling at her stomach whenever she spots a certain someone in the hallway; she's been feeling it a lot lately, and though the cause seems to be pretty obvious, that is another thing she'd have to be caught dead before doing: admitting that she reciprocates some of Malfoy’s.. peculiar feelings.

"And they're off!" Dean Thomas announces. [Y/N] watches as the players soar high into the air until they're mostly level with the stands, a blur of blue and green robes rapidly zooming around the pitch. Slytherin is already in possession of the quaffle; not a surprise, considering Ravenclaw isn't exactly known for their exceptionally talented Quidditch team.

Malfoy, meanwhile—[Y/N] tells herself that the way her eyes dart around the pitch in search of a certain platinum blond is because she wants to watch the game properly and not for other reasons.

She spots him hovering somewhere above the rest of the players, face screwed up in concentration as his gaze moves around the pitch in search for the golden snitch. He looks even paler in winter, set against a backdrop of a cloudy sky and snow—

[Y/N] jars herself out of her thoughts and blinks, side-eyeing her friends (specifically Ron) to make sure they hadn't seen her.. observing the Slytherin seeker. (Not like it matters; it's not as though she fancies him, but Ron would certainly take it the wrong way.)

"Go Ravenclaw!" Ron practically screeches, waving his Ravenclaw banner in the air—when did he get that? "Kick Slytherin’s arse so Gryffindor can crush you in the finals!"

[Y/N] snorts. "Have it all thought out, don't you, Ron?"

"Go on and cheer for your Slytherin boyfriend, [Y/N], no one's stopping you," says Harry, grinning. She turns to face him, mouth open in disbelief, and lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter.

"So, Harry," [Y/N] says, suddenly deadpan. ”I see you've chosen Ron’s side."

Harry snickers, then shrugs.

"Oh, Malfoy’s seen the snitch!" someone shouts from beside them. [Y/N] turns back to the game to see Malfoy zooming down the pitch, clutching the front of his broom as he swerves past Slytherin and Ravenclaw players alike in pursuit of the tiny golden ball all the way on the other side of the stadium, where [Y/N] and her friends are sat. He has the upper hand—Ravenclaw's seeker is only just now starting to fly after him, but she's a good distance behind and Malfoy is gaining speed.

"He’s gonna catch it!"

"Ravenclaw's even worse than I thought," grumbles Ron, slumping down in his seat.

But just as Malfoy passes by them, somehow, despite the fact that he is in pursuit of the bloody golden snitch and on the brink of securing victory for his team, he slows down just the tiniest bit, and then, in true Malfoy fashion—theatric as always in his displays of affection—he catches her eye and yells “This one's for you, [Y/N]!”, a grin on his face before he hurtles down the pitch, stretching out his hand towards the fluttering snitch—

"Malfoy’s got the snitch!" Dean Thomas screams into his microphone. "Slytherin wins!"

[Y/N] stares, feeling oddly warm despite the wintry weather, as Malfoy spins around in mid-air, triumphantly holding up the snitch for the rest of Hogwarts to see.

"Blimey," gapes Ron, wide-eyed, staring not at the Slytherin seeker but at [Y/N]. "That was—"

[Y/N] looks away from Malfoy to meet Ron's gaze, maintaining indifference. "He’s quite the charmer, isn't he?" she mutters, and hopes that her friends will think that the blush on her cheeks is because of the cold and not because of something—someone else.

But that's ridiculous. It is because of the cold, isn't it?

"It may be Malfoy," says Ron slowly, shaking his head, "But you can't deny that was bloody romantic. Felt like I was watching something out of one of those Muggle films."

"Yeah, we'll have to ask him for tips," says Harry, and starts laughing when [Y/N] rolls her eyes in response.

—

Malfoy may have stopped sending her Howlers, but that hardly matters because he has found every other way to pester her.

This includes consistently yelling out her name and shouting random pick-up lines every time he spots her in the hallway, as well as sending people to do her bidding—no longer first-years, but Crabbe and Goyle, who show up at random intervals everyday presenting her with a batch of different pastries. She always sends the pair off, but only after Ron and Harry accept said pastries for themselves.

"Blimey, this is heavenly!" gushes Ron, taking a passionate bite off of his second red velvet cupcake. "You sure you don't want a bite, [Y/N]? Hermione?"

[Y/N] offers him an exasperated smile. "No, thank you, Ron."

"Don’t thank me, thank your boyfriend."

The four of them walk into the dingy Potions classroom. Snape is nowhere to be seen, but it's only a matter of time before he swoops in all bat-like, so [Y/N] and Hermione quickly take a seat at their regular desk, right next to Ron and Harry.

"Have you done your homework?" asks Hermione, pulling out an assortment of parchment from her bag.

[Y/N] hums in response. "I doubt mine is half as good as yours, but hopefully I’ll scrape an acceptable."

"Oh, you're a good student, [Y/N]. Don't bring yourself down."

"Hard not to when I’m sitting next to the brightest witch in our year," she nudges Hermione’s shoulder, smiling. Hermione huffs, rolling her eyes, but it's clear by the pleased look on her face that she doesn't hate [Y/N]'s honest flattery as much as she lets on.

[Y/N] drums her fingers on the desk to pass time, not quite paying attention to the students filtering into the classroom. Or at least not until one of them calls her name and drawls, "Is someone sitting here?"

[Y/N]'s head snaps around to see none other than Malfoy, gesturing to the desk to the left of hers and Hermione’s. "Mind if I,” he pauses, grinning, "Slytherin?"

She purses her lips into a thin, tight line, inhaling deeply as she fights to keep her cool. Yes, there are times when Malfoy's gestures have her questioning her own hatred for him, but this—this is not one of them.

"That," she says, voice mostly level. "Is your seat, Malfoy. I don’t see why you have to ask me."

Which is a lie. [Y/N] knows why, of course. To get her attention. To woo her. But part of her wishes that Malfoy would realize that everything he is doing, from the overbearing pick up lines to the cupcakes to his constant public declarations of love, isn't something that [Y/N] thoroughly enjoys. Does she want him to stop yelling at her in the hallways? Yes. Does she want Crabbe and Goyle to stop bumbling up to her everywhere she goes (outside of the girl's bathroom is one example) offering cupcakes and pie and tarts? Yes. But does she want Malfoy to stop trying entirely?

Maybe not. Maybe part of her wants to give him a chance. He does seem to truly hold feelings, judging from his confession back at the Quidditch stadium, unless he's a terribly good actor.

And it wouldn't just be him she'd be giving a chance, either. Perhaps she'd also be doing so to herself. Because, over the past month, it's baffled her how quickly her feelings for him have shifted. Or maybe it's not a change of feelings, but rather realization that under all that sneering and pureblood prejudice, Draco Malfoy is a boy.

An annoyingly attractive one.

But there is so much more that [Y/N] dislikes about him. His snootiness. His arrogance. His lack of consideration for other people's feelings. He may be tall and lithe and undeniably handsome, and he may have very soft-looking platinum blond hair and stormy grey eyes like dark clouds, but he is also a prick. And that wins over everything else, no matter how.. visually pleasing he is.

So when a paper bird flutters in front of her halfway through the lesson, when Snape’s back is turned, [Y/N] hesitates. She knows fully well who it's from, despite not having to look to the side and meet his gaze.

From beside her, Hermione whispers, "Get rid of it, before Snape sees."

Exhaling, [Y/N] snatches the paper bird and quickly unfolds it.

She doesn't know what she's expecting to see, but it's certainly not the words "meet me at the Astronomy tower after dinner" scribbled across the parchment. And with a drawing of a face blowing kisses, no less.

[Y/N] sighs.

—

[Y/N] has no real feelings for Malfoy, so succumbing to his mysterious evening request at the Astronomy tower shouldn't mean anything.

Scratch that: it doesn't mean anything. Not to her. (Or so she tells herself.) This is a chance for her to tell Malfoy to sod off and to stop courting her. And for good, this time. No matter what that annoying little voice inside her head tells her, she can't possibly even consider the idea of actually giving in to him. (And to herself.)

So she's going to put a stop to it, once and for all.

"I’m going," she decides over dinner, slamming her palms down on the table.

"Going where?" asks Harry.

"The Astronomy tower," she replies resolutely.

"What, to go star-gazing?" Ron snickers. [Y/N] glances at him and realizes, quickly, that telling them had slipped her mind—she'd been far too preoccupied with her own conflicting thoughts.

She shifts in her seat. She doesn't necessarily need to tell them, does she? It's not as though it's important enough to share. And besides, Ron would only badger her about it. Mercilessly. [Y/N] can already picture him in her head, talking about Malfoy and snogging under the stars and Merlin-knows-what-else.

"Nevermind," says [Y/N], taking a bite out of a muffin and looking away. They don't need to know; it's not as though it's important.

—

After [Y/N] has walked up all of the stairs to get there, only taking one or two shortcuts, she's out of breath, but she creeps into the Astronomy tower anyway. It’s mostly dark save for the faint moonshine filtering in from the open sides, and, well—there he is.

Malfoy’s arms are crossed over his chest, his back mostly turned as he stands dangerously close to the railing, looking out over the dark landscape. Dim light catches on the side of his face, illuminating the grey of his eyes.

The curve of his nose.

Pale skin.

White-blond hair.

[Y/N] finds herself staring, one hand on the doorframe as though for support, brows furrowed in the middle in a slight frown as she watches him.

He looks lost in thought. Even from a few feet away, [Y/N] can see the far-off, distant look in his eyes. Like storms brewing behind dark clouds, she thinks to herself. It’s a quiet little whisper in the back of her mind that has her heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest that she never knew it was capable of.

But then she blinks.

This is the last thing [Y/N] needs. To see Malfoy stripped of his arrogance—to see him as he is, bathed in moonlight, glowing, almost. To look at him and to see a boy with eyes like molten silver and nothing more—it's the last thing she needs to convince herself that she doesn't feel something for him that isn't hatred.

No, she doesn't need this.

She turns around, breath caught in her throat, and starts walking down the steps. Accidentally, stupidly, her foot catches on a metal step and a loud clang echoes around the silent tower.

[Y/N] pauses, eyes wide.

"[Y/N]?" Malfoy's voice says. He can't see her. It’s too dark, and [Y/N] is too far down the steps.

She swallows. But instead of dreading what could come, she finds herself waiting, half-hoping that he'd check the staircase, that he would see her and—

And then what?

[Y/N] rushes down the steps, ignoring the loud noise her footsteps make on the way. This is the last thing she needs.

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, and she is determined to make that clear. (Both to herself and to her friends, although the former seems to be taking a lot more convincing.)

"What is there to like about him? He’s nothing but an annoying pain in the arse who has an overwhelming amount of pride and arrogance simply because of his blood—which is not only something that he never rightfully earned but is also something that shouldn't even bloody matter, except he thinks that it does solely because he is an absolute nutter who has nothing better to do with his life other than leech off of his parents' money and shove it in other people's faces."

Ron meets Harry’s gaze from across the table, who seems to be trying very hard not to laugh. Swallowing down a forkful of pancakes, Ron looks back at [Y/N]. "I’m sorry," he begins slowly. "But remind me again why we're talking about Malfoy?"

"I’m not finished, Ronald," [Y/N] snaps, shooting him a dirty look. Ron raises his eyebrows. "As I was saying before someone so rudely cut me off, Malfoy is a nasty little git who finds joy in making other people suffer. he probably has tiny puppies locked up inside his basement just so he can laugh in their faces and revel in their misery because he is that horrible of a person—"

Harry lurches with poorly suppressed laughter.

"An absolute terrible excuse for a human being! He basks in other people's humiliation—mine, for example!—and I would much rather snog the Giant Squid than ever actually consider his—" She pauses, gritting her teeth. "Odd.. requests."

"It’s not like he's asking you to murder house-elves," Ron mutters.

"Something that I would rather do than date him!"

"[Y/N]!" Hermione gasps, looking genuinely offended as she, for the first time since they'd arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, looks up from the homework she's rushing to finish. (As if her five pieces worth of parchment aren't enough—Flitwick had only asked for three!)

"Sorry, Hermione," [Y/N] says, offering her an apologetic look that she only half-means. This quickly turns into a fierce look of challenge as she swivels back around in her seat to face the redhead sitting next to her. "Honestly, since when have you started defending Malfoy?"

Ron blanches. "I’m not defending him!" he says indignantly, setting his fork down on his plate. "It’s just.. yeah, it's a bit odd that he's declaring his undying love for you out of bloody nowhere, but he's stopped badgering us, hasn't he? Nasty little ferret hasn't said a word to Harry for weeks! And that goes for me and Hermione, too!"

[Y/N] narrows her eyes at him. "So you think it's great that he's stopped annoying you at the cost of my suffering?"

"What suffering!" Ron exclaims. "He’s been treating you like a bloody princess!"

"Oh, why don't you just snog him yourself, then, if you think so highly of him?"

Ron’s jaw drops in shocked offense.

"Alright, that's enough!" Harry announces, reaching over the table to shove the two apart from each other. "Why doesn't one of you switch seats with me before you end up strangling each other?"

"I don't know, Harry," [Y/N]'s lip curls. "I might have to hold Ron back before he goes running off to his ferret prince—or should we just let him? Merlin knows he'd love to, won't you, Ronald?"

Ron’s teeth are gritted; his eyes dart around the food on the table as though looking for the most effective weapon. He seems to be choosing between a green apple and rhubarb pie.

Thankfully, Ron never gets to take his pick. The bell rings, saving everyone in the Great Hall from witnessing what could have possibly been a brawl between friends. "Come on, let's go," says Harry quickly, relief evident in his tone of voice as he ushers the pair to their feet. "Wouldn’t want to be late for class."

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, but why does she find herself staring at him whenever she comes across him in the hallway the next day? Why, when Malfoy meets her gaze, does she look away and pretend to be immersed in something else?

And why in the bloody hell, when Malfoy playfully winks at her during Potions class, does she find it very, very hard not to smile?

She walks out of the dungeon classroom in a hurry with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, not wanting to spend a minute more in Malfoy's presence; she doesn't particularly enjoy being suddenly hyperaware of every move he makes, every little glance he sends her way when he thinks she isn't paying attention. It’s as though something in her system has gone awry. Is that why her heart feels like it's about to hop right out of her chest? Is that why she can't stop wondering what would've happened if she'd stayed at the Astronomy tower?

"Hey, wait up!” Harry calls loudly as they walk up the stone steps leading away from the dungeons and into the main hallway, which is bustling with students.

[Y/N], who had been walking far too fast in front of the three, looks back over her shoulder and sees that they're a few feet away. She stops, seemingly flustered, and waits for them to catch up.

"You look like you've wet your pants," says Ron.

"I’m not you, Ron," she retorts.

"Oh, can you two please stop bickering for once?" says Hermione, exasperated.

From behind the three, Draco Malfoy emerges from the potions classroom and begins walking up the stone steps. [Y/N]'s hands clench into fists at her side as she discretely presses her back to the stone wall at her sides.

The blond doesn't even as much as glance at Ron, Harry, and Hermione as he passes by them on the steps. [Y/N], however—once Malfoy has reached the step below the one she's standing on, he pauses, no less than two feet away from her, and quirks an eyebrow.

"What?" [Y/N] scowls, trying not to look at the strand of blond hair dangling in front of his eyes.

Malfoy’s gaze dances over her face. "Was it you?"

She meets her friends' eyes over Malfoy's shoulder. Ron and Harry have their eyebrows raised; Hermione looks concerned. [Y/N] takes a moment to compose herself—tries to force her heart back into her chest—before she folds her arms across her chest and looks at the Slytherin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"At the Astronomy tower," Malfoy says, and moves up one step so that he's standing on the same one she's on. A foot away. "I heard someone last night, while I was waiting for you."

Oh, Merlin.

"You came, didn't you?" he presses on.

"No," [Y/N] lies, and hates how defensive she sounds. She shifts a little on her feet, her eyes skirting away to look at a random spot behind Malfoy. "I was.. at the library. Doing things of actual importance."

There’s a slight pause as Malfoy's nose wrinkles. "Must’ve been someone else spying on me, then," he finally says through a scoff, but [Y/N] knows disappointment when she sees it. He rolls his shoulders back and puts on his signature smirk, inclining his head towards her as he takes another step up the stairs. "Better hurry and give me an answer, [Y/N]," he tells her, grinning. "Before one of my admirers get to me first."

[Y/N] watches as he walks up the steps and disappears into the hallway.

"The library?" a voice says incredulously. She turns back to Ron, whose face is scrunched in disbelief. "No, you weren't! We were waiting for you there and you never came."

[Y/N] folds her arms across her chest indignantly but doesn't respond, instead walking up the stone steps.

"Malfoy said he was waiting for you at the Astronomy tower," says Hermione slowly as they trail after her; [Y/N] speeds up her pace. "Is that why you mentioned going there during dinner last night?"

[Y/N] emerges into the main corridor first. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" bursts Ron, sounding downright triumphant.

"Congratulations, Ron, you don't have the memory range of a teaspoon, after all," [Y/N] mutters, looking around. Malfoy is walking down the hallway a few feet ahead of them, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

Ron ignores her. "I bet you did go. I bet you did spy on him—" And then he gasps, looking as though he's unearthed the secret of life. "Merlin’s beard, you really do fancy him, don't you?"

[Y/N]'s footsteps falter. Ron, Harry, and Hermione stop right with her.

Hermione is the only one who doesn't look stunned out of her mind. Looking between the two boys, she rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Honestly, is that so hard to believe?" says Hermione, frowning. "I understand that it's Malfoy and he is a prick, but [Y/N] is perfectly entitled to fancy whoever she likes." She turns to [Y/N]. "It’s fine, [Y/N], you don't have to feel guilty about it. Anyone would catch feelings if someone started doing such sweet things for them, even if it were someone like Malfoy."

"Blimey," says Harry, breathless. "Which part sealed the deal, [Y/N]? The pick-up lines? Or was it the cupcakes?"

[Y/N], who had been opening and closing her mouth like a fish blown out of water, finally stops trying to find words that just aren't there and instead drags her palm across her face in frustration. "I don't.." she says, sounding defeated, but really—now that she's faced with such confrontation, it's easier to admit to herself that maybe.. maybe she does fancy Malfoy.

Ron’s lips have split into a jubilant grin. ”I called it!" he says, smacking Harry's shoulder. "Bloody knew it!"

Hermione reaches out to rub [Y/N]'s back. "Don’t feel too bad about it, [Y/N]. I sort of knew—you looked at him differently after he confessed to you on the pitch."

[Y/N] sighs, realizing that no amount of denying it will convince her friends. Or herself.

She does fancy Malfoy.

Properly acknowledging it—finally admitting it to herself—is oddly relieving. She’s been keeping her feelings cooped up inside of her chest despite the fact they are so much bigger than her, and now that she's letting them burst free.. now that she's coming to terms with them..

Well. It’s not the worst feeling ever.

Ron is still beaming, looking as though he's won the lottery. And apparently, in a way, he has: "Fred and George said it'd take you a month longer to give in. I said it'd take you less—guess I’ve won myself two galleons!"

[Y/N]'s mouth falls open. "You bet on this?"

Ron raises his eyebrows, as though surprised to hear that she didn't know. "Uh, I and the entire bloody castle."

Struck by a sudden burst of both annoyance and confidence, [Y/N], scowling, detaches herself from her friends and strides down the hallway towards Malfoy, full of intent. He hasn't noticed her yet; his back is still turned, but she catches up to him easily. And when she does, she unceremoniously bumps her shoulder into his and grabs his hand, quickly interlacing her fingers through his.

"What the hell—"

Malfoy, obviously taken aback, tries to pull his hand away, sneering, until his gaze lands on [Y/N].

"Keep walking, Malfoy," she says scathingly, not quite looking at him.

Baffled, Malfoy stares at her, then down at their hands, which are now tightly interlocked between them. [Y/N] scowls resolutely at the hallway ahead of her.

And then Malfoy laughs, more out of disbelief than amusement.

"Keep walking," [Y/N] repeats, this time turning to look at him, fighting to keep her gaze indifferent. The last thing she wants Malfoy to know is that there is an onslaught of tiny little butterflies rampaging in her stomach and a tingly feeling spreading from their hands all the way up her spine and into her heart.

Malfoy’s lips tug up into a wide grin—a real one, [Y/N] thinks. Not an arrogant smirk or a deprecating sneer; one that she can't ever recall seeing. But now that she has, she finds herself wishing he'd do it more often.

[Y/N] tugs him along as she walks, feeling the stunned stares of her friends boring into her skull from behind. (Ron is going to have a field day about this.)

"So," Malfoy begins, and she doesn't have to look at him to know that he's still grinning down at her. "Changed your mind, haven't you?"

[Y/N] rolls her eyes; she doesn't fail to notice the way that the students they're passing by are staring at them, eyes wide, whispering to themselves. "Isn’t this what you wanted?"

Malfoy shrugs. "Among other things."

She side-eyes him, muttering, "Does that include snogging?"

He makes an amused sound at the back of his throat. "You said it, not me."

[Y/N] has to grit her teeth to stop the corners of her lips from tugging up. They turn a corner down the hallway, disappearing from both their friends' views (assuming they haven't followed them). At this thought, [Y/N] takes a brief glance over her shoulder—and sure enough, there's a redhead peeking out of a group of very confused Ravenclaws.

Cursing Ron Weasley inside her head, she turns her gaze back ahead of her. ”I have Charms class next."

Malfoy raises his brows. "And what do you expect me to do with that information?"

"Walk me there," says [Y/N] briskly.

She can practically feel the surprise radiating off of the blond next to her. A moment later, he throws his head back in a loud laugh. "And you want me to be late to Transfiguration? It’s all the way on the other side of the castle."

[Y/N] hums. "Can’t even do that for the girl you fancy?"

There’s a beat of silence. His grip on her hand falters a little as he says, voice still nonchalant and yet at the same time holding an undeniable sense of sincerity, "I could if I knew she wasn't leading me on."

"She isn't," [Y/N] says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy is staring at her with his brows pulled in together just slightly at the middle, giving off the impression that he's trying to decide whether or not she's being serious. He slows down his pace until he comes to a full stop, urging [Y/N] to halt alongside him until they're standing in the middle of the hallway, oblivious to the stares following them and the redhead a mere few feet away.

"How do I know this isn't a prank?" says Malfoy, lip slowly curling as he narrows his eyes at her, the first few traces of suspicion etching itself onto his face now that the whole ridiculousness of the situation has finally sunken in. [Y/N] can't blame him; her antics—suddenly marching up to him in the hallway, grabbing his hand and walking with him as though they've been doing it for years—all of it is uncalled for after having ruthlessly turned him down so many times before. But [Y/N] can't delve into a discussion of her conflicting emotions—at least not right now—so she hopes, at least for now, that he will take her word for it.

She clears her throat. "Well," she begins, looking down at their hands; Malfoy’s grip has gone slack. "If I wanted to hold your hand, I’d do it because I wanted to. Not because I wanted to get a rise out of you." She lets her gaze go back up to his, brows rising in familiar challenge. "I don't stoop that low, Malfoy. You’ve been in love with me for years—shouldn't you know that by now?"

There are a few seconds in which the blond standing before her still looks at her with a scrutinizing gaze, lips set into a thin, hard line and his eyes swimming with conflict that [Y/N] wouldn't have been able to see from afar, but sees in perfect clarity now that she's standing a mere foot away from him. But then, after what feels like ages, Malfoy nods, slowly, frown smoothing out into an expression of—could that be relief?

"I will be late for Transfiguration, you know," he says, lips quirking up into a grin.

[Y/N] laughs. (A real one, Draco thinks to himself.) This time she doesn't try to stop herself from smiling; just lets her lips do so of their own accord. It feels nice. Freeing. "Better just one of us than two, don't you think?" she says, mirroring his playful grin. "And besides, Goyle can stand in for you. You two do have quite the resemblance."

"Oh, sod off."

And it really is very odd, because everything about this shouldn't feel right; they've been enemies for the longest time, and a year ago, [Y/N] would have been revolted at the mere idea of ever coming close to Draco Malfoy—but it does. That is, it feels right. Like they've been this way for ages and this playful, harmless banter is the most natural thing.

Draco isn't perfect—Merlin, does he have a long way to go—but if he means to stop being a prat as long as [Y/N] is at his side, then she is willing to venture into whatever has formed between them.

And if this little bond is going to involve any more of this—this being her and Draco exaggeratedly swinging their arms between them as he walks her to Charms class with their fingers still intertwined, snickering, waiting for one of them to start complaining about their arm sockets hurting—then maybe it isn't the worst thing ever, after all.

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ashes-and-ashes · 4 years

Text

Harry takes him down to the water, where the waves lapped against the shore and the sun burned a trail of gold across the sea. Everything is bronze and burnished, like peering through a sheet of amber glass. Even Draco’s hair looks like honey, golden and shining and smooth.

Harry stares at him, just for a moment. Draco had that starved look in his eyes, pinched and empty and dry, the face of someone who hadn’t been out for months. Harry supposed he hadn’t - it was part of Draco’s sentence, after all, 3 years under house arrest, 5 years with no wand.

Draco turns his face - he meets Harry’s eyes and Harry has to scramble to wipe his face of emotion. Draco hated pity - he always had, even when he was fifteen and forced to burn the Mark into his skin.

Draco couldn’t actually run up to the sea - the wards prevented it - but they could sit upon the grassy knoll and watch the waves roll in against the rocks. It was beautiful at least - Draco, lit up by the slowly sinking sun in shades of gold and amber, molten metal and stardust. Harry watches him, still so beautiful despite everything, and he feels his heart stutter in his chest.

“Draco,” he says, softly. “Are you okay?”

Draco shrugs. He wasn’t, Harry thinks. He hadn’t been okay since they took his wand, locked him in the manor alone. Narcissa was in Azkaban and so was Lucius - though Harry only ever saw Draco write to his mother.

Harry watches as Draco tips his head back, his face reaching up to the sky, the curve of his throat and shoulders. “Why did you bring me here?” he asks, voice quiet enough that Harry has to strain to listen to him over the waves.

He thinks of Draco, all haughty and arrogant, velvet cloaks and silver clasps. He thinks of the way Draco always delighted in his magic; lazy sparks drifting from the tip of his wand when studying, twirling ribbons of fire as they lay beneath the stars. Draco had always loved being a wizard. It would have killed him to take it away.

Harry just raises his hand, palm up, fingers stretched out. He remembers when he first learnt, first found that stream of magic inside of him, taught himself to control it. It was after the War, when too many sleepless nights had kept him awake, when the pull of the Elder Wand was like an itch that never ceased.

Draco’s face goes pale. “No.”

Harry closes his eyes. The tiny orb of light inside his hand glows brighter; he can see it through the darkness behind his eyelids. “It’s killing you,” he says, quietly. “Living without magic.”

Draco doesn’t try to deny it. Harry has caught him too many times on the brink of falling apart, curled over himself like something had been ripped out of his chest. He had held Draco the first night, alone in the foyer of an empty manor, Draco’s thin shoulders shaking as he sobbed into Harry’s chest. It had been the only time Harry had truly seen Draco cry.

Harry turns his hand, watches magic wreath between his fingers like a ribbon. Draco watches him, his face open and desperate and yearning before his eyes go dark, another dream shoved deep inside of him.

“I can’t,” he says, and opens his hand, a mockery of the movements Harry was not making. Harry stares at the tracery of veins at the skin of Draco’s wrist, fingers pointed up at the sky. The tattoo shimmers there in gold; a locking rune, Harry realizes. Draco’a gaze is fierce and unflinching. “It’s magical. They’ll know if I pick up a wand.��

“But you won’t,” Harry says. He closes his fist, letting the light seep out from clenched fingers. “You’ll be doing it on your own.”

Something cracks then, something raw and painful. Draco shakes his head, fingers clenched at his side. “I can’t,” he says in an awful voice. “I can’t - it takes years to master and - “

“It didn’t for me.”

“Yes but you’re the fucking chosen one. I’m - I’m an ex Death Eater who can’t even use magic for fucks sakes - “

“Try,” Harry says, firmly. He thinks again of himself, pressed up against the wall after Draco had been locked away, his magic filling him up so much that he thought he was going to burst. He remembers raging, wishing the world would burn to ashes, remembers looking down at his fingers and finding his hand wreathed in smoke. “Feel your magic. It’s still there, right?”

Draco makes an odd noise, his hand coming up helplessly. “God, yes. It - it’s trapped inside of me and I can’t - I can’t think straight.”

“It’s okay,” Harry says. Draco stares at his clenched hand - he’s shaking, Harry realizes, a volatile mix of hope and desperation and wild fury. Harry stares at him, the broken pieces of a broken boy and his heart stops.

“Draco,” he whispers.

He kisses him. It’s a bit strange at first - he can feel Draco’s body trembling, the tension in his shoulders, the sharp press of his rib cage against Harry’s hands. He can feel the weight that Draco’s lost while at the manor, the hard lines of scar tissue on his back, the frantic beat of his heart against Harry’s. He moves his hand down to hold Draco’s, moves the other one to cup Draco’s jaw and kisses him, like the world was burning apart around them, like the sky was falling apart in pieces.

“Harry,” Draco murmurs against his lips. “Harry, I think I love you.”

Between them, in the space between their intertwined hands, a ball of light begins to glow.

#Drarry #Drarry angst #Drarry fluff #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter #Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy #Drarry fanfic #Drarry fic #Harry Potter fanfic #Draco Malfoy fanfic #Draco Malfoy fic #Harry Potter fic #hp #hp fanfic

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drawlfoy · 4 years

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Detention, Retention, and Draco Being a Lying Shit (halloweek day 1!)

masterlist

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope!

summary: y/n’s two month detention sentence goes from being the bane of her existence to harry potter’s last hope to bringing down malfoy.

a/n: hiiiiiii everyone so i’m starting new classes today and idk how much time im gonna have to write consistently until i’m home for break but i just want to thank all of you! this week is my tribute to everyone who takes time out of their day to continue reading my content. i have so much appreciation for you.

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of drugging someone (in jest)

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast

word count: 1.1k

no music recs for today i b tired fdjskfdsja

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from THAT foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy.

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you in for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Slytherin--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re ALL on the brink of war...he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter imagines

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years

Text

The Damn Bet.

(Fred Weasley x Reader)

It was a fucking bet that started this whole ordeal. Not a bet of romance but of words. You had this argument with Fred, claiming that he was an "insolent fool" and had the IQ of a small child after yet another prank on your house which was Slytherin. Well he took that as a challenge and asked "Alright Love, what will make you think that I'm smart? If you're going to be so cocky about this." So you formed a bet. A bet that would come back to bite you in the ass.

"Alright. You want to play this game?" You snapped. "I definitely do if it means you'll be less grouchy around me!" Fred sighed. "Speak elegantly and with poise for the next week." You said. "That's it? Fuck, I'll do that for a damn month." "You're on Weasley!" You said. "When does this start!?" He asked. "Right now!" You said.

And so Fred wouldn't shut the fuck up around you. You expected him to fail almost immediately but he didn't. He actually was doing great! Too great.... He wouldn't turn it off either, everytime he opened his mouth it was almost old English sounding. Nothing would ever be quite as surprising as that first conversation you had with him during the bet.

"Good evening Fred." You greeted as he sat down in the library. "Good evening Y/n, does the library sooth you or is there any particular reason you appear to be relaxed?" Fred asked you making you look up. Shit. Don't tell me he actually can keep this up. "Literature soothes me." You said leaning up. "I cannot say it provides me that same sensation. I'm less of a reader, more of a speaker." He told you. Oh shit. He could keep up.

So you would talk to him more and more, hoping he'd fuck up. Instead he actually got better, quicker with his responses. You started getting frustrated, waiting for a moment when he'd break but there was nothing! No breaks in his speech, no moments where he stuttered, nothing. What was even more frustrating.... Was that you were beginning to like him.

Not this intelligent side to him no, though that was very compelling. But you almost smiled everytime the boy left you speechless. You almost showed happiness when he'd make you stumble over your words and he would practically skip away with joy. You were becoming frustrated with yourself for liking him. For God's sake... You were supposed to hate him.

"What's going on in that mind of yours Y/n?" Fred asked, sitting across from you at the usual table in the library. You looked up and sighed. "Must you speak? It's distracting." You huffed. "Must you be so rude to me? you plague my thoughts enough already, now you're making me think I've done something wrong." Fred said to you. You looked up, frowning. "I usually speak to you in this demeanor, what on earth do you mean that I've plagued your thoughts?" You asked. "You trouble me. You make me mad. I think about you almost the entire day, I barely slept this week alone." Fred said. "Christ-- Fred, you really think your words will work on me don't you?" You said, closing your book and getting up.

You walked down the hall and he followed. "Why do you doubt me?" He asked. "Because I've seen this done to other girls before!" You snapped. "You're different." He said. "How so?" You asked. "for one you're a lot more spiteful." He started. "Oh my, I'm swooning as we speak." You said sarcastically before walking into the great hall for dinner. He huffed and walked after you.

"Y/n, what can I do to prove to you that my words are true?" He asked. You rolled your eyes. "Nothing, because I won't believe you." You said, still walking. "Y/n." He said, grabbing your hand. “I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you." He quoted.

You blinked a few times and a few students were now looking. "Did you just quote... Jane Austen?" You asked. "I read. I read for you, I've lacked sleep for almost a month, a few minutes the bet ends yet I have to say this now." Fred said, still holding your hand. "I love you Y/n." He said. You yanked your hand back. "No. No you do not. This is a tatic-- a trick." You breathed. "It isn't." He assured. "It has to be!" You exclaimed. "Why!? Why do you believe my feelings to be false Y/n!?" He asked.

George leaned over to Harry. "Any clue as to what the hell is happening?" He asked. "No fucking idea man." Harry responded.

You shook your head. "Your words can't have meaning. You can't. I-I can't.... This can't happen!" You said frustrated. "And why not? Because society said so?" He asked. "I have no bounds to what society wants Fred, if your words have meaning-- if I let them have their intended meaning, I could fall." You said sharply. "Is that so bad!?" Fred asked. "Yes!" You said. "Why!?" Fred asked. You shook your head.

Ron bit into a chicken leg watching the two of you. "This just got intense." Hermione muttered. "I'm so invested in this." Dean muttered watching you two as well.

"because--" "Because what!?" "Because there's no guarantee you'd catch me!" You said. "I would--" "Fred. I will not risk falling from such a height that could leave me dead. If I wanted that I'd jump off of the astronomy tower. You drive me mad. You plague my mind like a poison and you make me believe you care." You told him. "What is making you believe that I don't care? Is it the bet? Because I will drop that now if it means you'll listen." Fred asked. You shook your head. "It's not the bet." "then what is it?" Fred asked. "It's this Fred. This." You said motioning to everything around you.

Hermione and George leaned forward watching.

"The school?" "The fact you chose to do this in a public setting. The fact you chose to keep this up around people. The fact that you continue to do this." You told him. Fred shook his head. "I am only standing here because this is where you were walking to. Has it occured to you Princess, that we usually end up in public settings after I follow you?" Fred asked.

"Plot twist." Ron muttered as Harry gaped.

"I--" "I follow you like a patron to a God. I cling to every word as if it were gospel, I love you y/n--" "Stop saying that!" You whined.

Even Draco was watching intently by this point. "Do you think they'll--" "Shut up Crabbe I can't hear what she's going to say next." Draco hushed.

Fred sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Let me love you." "No." "Let me see you." "No" "Let me be with you" he begged. You drew shaking breaths.

"The bet ends in three minutes." George whispered making the group of we watching Gryffindors lean forward to listen better.

You stood almost completely still. His hand was still in yours, your fingers refusing to intertwine with his. "We wouldn't work--" "How do you know?" Fred asked. "because we bicker all the time-- we're bickering now!" You said, slowly moving closer to him due to his pulling. He moved your hair away from your face and you swallowed. "We... We wouldn't..." You struggled to form words and he nodded. "Tell me more." He teased. "We..." You swallowed hard as he lifted both of your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles. "You drive me to the brink of insanity Weasley." You muttered. "You do the same to me Y/n." Fred whispered. ".... Fred..." You breathed out.

"The bet just ended." George said looking at Dean's watch. "What's going to happen!?" Neville whispered to the group and they all watched patiently.

Fred didn't move, neither did you. You could feel his breath, you could smell him and you could hear the ticking of your wrist watch. "The bet is finished." You muttered. "I want to change my reward." "You never had reward for winning." You said. "Well I want one if you'll hear me out." He huffed. "What?" You asked. "A kiss. I did the damn bet for a month, I should be able to get a kiss." He said making you roll your eyes. "Fine--" was all he heard and he quickly let go of your hands, cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips. You nearly stumbled back but he held you to him as if you were the last thing he had. You sank into his hold and students seemed to be mesmerized.

You pulled away and huffed. "You really suck Weasley." You grumbled and he chuckled. "Disappointed you lost?" He asked. "Yeah! You're supposed to be a jackass, not intelligent!" You said making him a smile. "Can I be your jackass though?" He asked. You looked at him and shook your head with a laugh. "...Alright Weasley." You nodded and he smiled.

"JUST SHAG ALREADY--" "SHUT UP GOYLE!" Draco hushed and you realized people were watching.

"Oh... Oh God no." You groaned. "What, afraid to be associated with a Weasley?" He asked. "No... Mcgonagall is watching." You whined before smacking your forehead on Fred's shoulder and he snorted. "Hi professor." He waved making you groan.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley

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originalhybridnik · 3 years

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harry potter: why it’s not “just for kids.”

the other day, this girl i know told me, “why the hell are you reading harry potter? it’s for kids only.” i’m 17, and, well, close to adulthood. i don’t reply to her, because, often, when someone asks me something like this, i have a huge explanation, lasting for a long time, and people don’t like it. so, i’m gonna give my explanation here.

harry potter. the boy who lived. the whole series is loved by millions of people in the world, from different age groups and from different parts of the world. it’d be an understatement to say that i love the series. i’ve read the books, seen the movies, even read the supplementary books, as well as harry potter and the cursed child. i’ve seen the fantastic beasts movies as well. and i’ve read the books not once, not twice, not even thrice. i’ve read the series 8 times.

here are the reasons as to why harry potter isn’t for any specific age group.

(spoiler alert to everyone out there) trigger warnings: foul language, death, slavery, discrimination.

1. harry potter, the kid who was orphaned at the age of one, the boy who had no family but his nasty muggle uncle, aunt and cousin, the name known to every wizard and witch, the one-year-old who weakened voldemort to the brink of death. this boy has gone through more pain, sorrow and grief than any fictional character i’ve read of. provided, it doesn’t seem so. but, take it from someone who has read the series as much as i have, he isn’t what he apparently seems to be. j.k. rowling gives us a glimpse of his life before hogwarts, just a mere glimpse. this small portion shows us the amount of bullying he has to go through. he has absolutely no friends, and his cousin’s gang was always behind him. his aunt and uncle starve him for the tinniest of mistakes and he did not even know the real cause of his parents’ death. he has no one to talk to, or be with. he lives in a cupboard under the stairs. his aunt and uncle are certain to “bash out” the magic in him by keeping him away from the wizarding world. he is constantly treated like trash, and he has to do all of the dursleys’ work whether he wanted to or not.

2. he gets a letter from hogwarts, and he isn’t allowed to read it. he keeps getting more and more of them, and he still isn’t allowed to read them. the letters arrive at such a pace that uncle vernon decides to move into a small hut on a rock in the middle of a sea. he then gets his letter hand delivered by hagrid, the keeper of keys at hogwarts. he finally catches a break, and goes to hogwarts, the prized boy who apparently killed voldemort. during his first year at hogwarts, he and his closest friends, ron and hermione embark on a quest to keep the philosopher’s stone from voldemort’s reach. the three 11-year-olds have to get past a three headed dog, past the devil’s snare, one of the deadliest plants in the wizarding world, past a door that could be opened only by catching a flying key scattered across many other flying keys, play on a life size board of wizard’s chess-where ron sacrifices himself so that harry could continue, which almost kills ron, past a room with 7 containers of potions which could kill them if they weren’t smart, and finally to a room where harry meets professor quirell who has provided his body as a refuge for voldemort, who manifests on the back of his head. harry faces the man who killed his parents before he could even speak, and he almost gets possessed by voldemort, because he’s probably the only one who could have the stone, as the mirror of erised could give it only to the person who wanted the stone, but not for a selfish reason. he kills quirell, but voldemort gets away. you see, this shows how deep the first book is. i mean, as a kid, i never understood the sacrifices made, by any of the characters. but, as i read the book again, i understood why what happened happened. it became obvious to me. this shows that we can enjoy the book as a child, without realizing the deepness, and as teens and adults, we get the sacrifices made, the blood shed, the connections forged, and most importantly, how important it is to recognize the values left behind, and, for once, try understanding that this series, even if written for kids, is suitable, and, important for older readers as well.

3. ronald weasely, the sixth child in a relatively poor, and commonplace wizarding family that turns out to be the most loyal, brave and worthy wizarding families ever. he grew up as a wizard and knew a lot about the wizarding world, especially it’s prejudices. he’s the perfect example of a trustworthy, loyal and brave friend. he deserves a lot more than the unnecessary hate he gets. he befriends harry potter, a famous kid that didn’t know anything about his true self, and sticks with him forever. throughout the series, we see this brave boy sacrifice a lot for his best friend. book 1, he sacrifices himself, AN ELEVEN YEAR OLD, for a boy that he knew for less than a year. book 2, he’s ready to walk into a forest, following his WORST fear, spiders, into their fucking home. book 3, he’s ready to follow a mass murderer(not really a mass murderer, but yeah) to help his best friends. book 4, even though he gets jealous and stops talking to harry for a while, we totally get what he was gong through. book 5, he fucking walks breaks into the ministry of magic with his best friends to fight the most feared group of dark wizards and witches ever. book 6, he’s ready to fight anYone for his best friends. book 7, HE’S READY TO RUN AWAY AND FIGHT THE MOST FEARED WIZARD EVER, for his best friend.

all of this, ALL OF THIS, just shows how mature he is, how much we can learn from him, and, most importantly, how wrong it is to title this series as one “for kids”. we see a mere boy sacrifice himself, put his life in danger, time and again, for his best friends. if that isn’t something every human being should be exposed to, then what is?

4. hermione granger, another important character, throughout the series, born into a muggle family, living her life as a smart, bookworm, one day, gets a letter, getting accepted into the best wizarding institution, and, unlike the dursleys, her parents are proud of her and she’s all set for this magical experience. she never anticipates the hate or the prejudice that, is shown towards her and children like her, born into a muggle family. “mudblood,” they call them, exactly the kind of discrimination imminent to THIS DAY all over the world. whether it’s on an international standard, or within a country, whether it is race, caste, gender or preferences, whether it’s against a group or an individual, it’s exactly like this. the whole concept of blood status shows us how deep the books are. it shows us how mature we need to be to understand this. it shows us how we need to think more about this and implement this in real life. a kid from a “pureblood” family, namely, draco malfoy, is the first person to use this, in book 2. it just shows us how parents like his encourage their kids to discriminate people based on their lineage. i won’t point to a specific issue but all of us know of examples, whether we’re the offenders or the offended.

5. slavery is a very important issue touched upon in the series. even though we see harry free dobby from the malfoys, there’s very little importance given to the base, the root cause of what dobby went through. he was a slave to a rich family that considered itself above anyone without “pure blood.” but, we see this very issue taken up in a book 4. we see hermione take a stand against the improper and infuriating treatment of house elves, by organizing a committee called S.P.E.W(society for the promotion of elfish welfare). we see her force people into taking part in this, and even though it’s by force, we all see where she came from. if you don’t know, house elves believed they had only one true purpose in life, to slave around for their owners, without being respected or treated well, and no matter what. we see winky, another elf, previously working(for lack of a better word, cuz that wasn’t working) for bartemius crouch, who’s absolutely against the idea of being paid or even being free. despite seeing dobby and how he enjoyed freedom, she was absolutely against it. again, we see how such an important and deep issue was addressed in a way that makes use all understand, despite our age, that EVERYONE is equal, no matter what. if you STILL think it’s a book for kids only, please continue reading.(continue anyways)

6. can we talk about how the magic-folk have had to live in hiding forever because people are afraid of them? they’re treated like they’re inhuman, trash and most importantly, like they deserve to die for being born with a power for magic?

7. as long as we’re talking about discrimination, we can also look into the fact that, squibs(non-magic folk born into magical families) are looked down upon? they’re tortured, and they receive as much hate, if not more, as “mudbloods.”

8. a special trigger warning for this: TW /death. THROUGHOUT the series, we see some of our most beloved characters die. spoiler alert: in book 1, we see how james and lily were ruthlessly killed by voldemort, orphaning a one year old boy that’d be famous for something he never knew he did. honestly, it wasn’t even his doing. in the same book, we see the killing of unicorns, the consequences of killing a unicorn and drinking it’s blood, AND the killing of professor quirell/voldemort, and even though he/they were the bad person, it deserves to be a part of this list. book 2, we see a young tom riddle get killed in the end, we see how young myrtle got killed, we see students getting fucking petrified by a monster, an inch away from death. book 3, we see how sirius black apparently killed 13 people and was an accomplice to his best friend’s murder. book 4, we see cedric die as a direct affect from the killing curse. we see harry get tortured by the cruciatus curse. we see the most feared wizard reborn, and, not to mention, we see his weakened form in the movie. book 5, we see the rampage that voldemort causes, killing more and more people, muggles and magic-folk alike. more importantly, we see harry’s godfather, sirius black die. we see the pain harry goes through. book 6, again, we see not only voldemort’s actions, but the use of sectumsempra by harry on draco, and how snape killed dumbledore. book 7, we see SO MUCH death. from alastor (mad-eye) moody to fred weasely, from severus snape to remus lupin and nymphadora tonks, so many fucking deaths. we see harry potter die.

9. can we talk about the phrase “lamb for slaughter”? most of us have heard of this phrase at least once. i cannot think of another explanation of this than the way it’s shown in these books. albus dumbledore literally prepares and protets harry for seventeen fucking years just so he can get get killed by voldemort in the end. this teaches an important lesson to everyone that, sometimes, you need to do what you think is right. even if an adult cares about you more than anything, sometimes they do things they believe in and end up hurting kids.

10. can we talk about how bill weasely got bit in the face by an untransformed werewolf and got deformed for life? even after this, fleur didn’t leave him. if this isn’t a lesson to us about what true love is, then, what is?

11. let’s talk about love. firstly, about how much harry, hermione and ron love each other. they’re the true example of best friends. they were together through everything, there for each other in the worst of times, and for the happiest of moments, and will probably be together until they die. secondly, can we talk about how when people are truly in love, they don’t care about appearances. all they care about is what’s on the inside. this is clearly shown by fleur(check point 10). ALSO, we see tonks sacrifice herself with remus, in the final battle. we see dumbledore care about harry so much, love him so much, despite everything else. we see the love family has. we see harry and hermione become a part of the weasleys. we see harry and ginny fall in love. we even see snape’s love for lily. we see so much love. now, this is something very important for all of us. whether we’re raised in that way, or we are exposed to it later in life, we need to learn that love is important in life.

12. can we talk about the torture neville’s parents, among countless others, went through? because of voldemort? and his death eaters? do you still think these books are for kids?

13. can we talk about how a group of 15 year-olds form a group to learn how to fight in the real world, because of a careless ministry of magic and a cruel teacher? it shows us values of leadership, team work, and most of all, how important friendship is. we see a part of this group march into a battle against death eaters, and, possibly, even voldemort himself, without fear of death. for one moment, look at how brave one is when one is with one’s true friends. this teaches us so much.

14. CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW A CRUEL TEACHER MAKES A 15-YEAR OLD BOY SCAR HIMSELF WITH THE WORDS “I WILL NOT TELL LIES” JUST BECAUSE SHE WAS TOO ADAMENT TO BELIEVE THE TRUTH? do you still fucking think this series is for kids?

15. can we talk about how all the magical creatures are treated cruelly? from elves to centaurs, it’s cruelty at it’s finest. are you still convinced it’s a book for kids just because it has magic?

16. can we talk about how much trauma a reader experiences throughout the series? i mean, i’m absolutely grateful that i went through this trauma, because i came out as a better person, in not one, but, multiple ways. we journey through seven years of happiness, sorrow, pain, love, and so much more. we see our favorites get killed, we see how sometimes, people are misunderstood. we see how everyone is born good, but it’s our childhood and the way we’re raised that makes us bad. this is not something all kids understand. an older person can read this series, go through all of this, and will come out as a better human being.

17. how many of you remember the way snape was treated as a kid? huh? by harry’s own father and his friends. this is a shout out to all the bullies out there that think they can do whatever they want and not care about consequences just because they’re stronger, or more famous, or more good-looking. this fucking teaches kids to NOT bully anyone.

this is more than just a series for me. it let me into this new universe where i experienced so fucking much.

if this wasn’t enough for you to at least consider the fact that these books are not “just for kids,” i’m sorry, but you’re just being morons. you don’t wanna even consider something that goes against what you say and that’s your problem, not ours. so, STOP HATING ON THE WIZARDING WORLD COMMUNITY AND GET A FUCKING JOB.

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obviouslyfred · 3 years

Text

Impressed

Warnings: fighting? fluff

Draco x snape’s daughter reader

tags: @pinkandblueblurbs

word count: 1771

“Never lie to someone for the sake of their ego. If they don’t impress you, you should tell them.” The words Severus Snape had told his daughter many years ago rang through her head as she passed the immature boys in the courtyard. Like her father, Y/N Snape held her head high and was displeased by the childish jokes many of her classmates divulged in.

Walking into DADA, nodding at Professor Snape once she had entered. Y/N took her seat at the back of the room, next to where Malfoy sat, when he showed up that is. Y/N knew about Draco’s mission and her father’s part in it and although she didn’t agree with it at first, her father promised he was with the light, no matter how dark it seemed. She chose to trust him; he’d never let her down so she hoped he wouldn’t start now.

The seat from beside her shifted as Malfoy sat down. “Y/N,” He greeted causing her to nod in acknowledgement. “How are you?”

“Clearly better than you are,” She responded turning to face the pale boy as her father droned on in the background, she needn’t worry about missing work as she was up to date for the next month of class. “How’s it going?” She asked, ‘it’ being his devastating mission.

He just shook his head and turned to face the front of the class, a flash of dread passing through his features. Y/N sighed quietly as she took notes and once the class ended stayed back to talk to her father.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Draco looks on the brink of a breakdown … not that I care for him, but others are starting to notice.” She said quietly to Severus in case anyone was listening to conversations they shouldn’t be as Potter was known for doing.

“It’s being handled, I don’t want you getting involved.” He replied, placing a hand on her shoulder and rubbing gently.

“I need to go, I’ve got Potions.” She mumbled before leaving, feeling increasingly more anxious about the situation her father and Draco were in.

Y/N walked into Potions five minutes late, rushing to sit next to Malfoy as the pair worked well together.

“Ahh Y/N, I was beginning to worry.” Professor Slughorn chirped causing the class to face her.

“Sorry Professor, I got caught up it won’t happen again.” She mumbled, embarrassed as Draco looked at her concerned.

Slughorn gave the class a task to do in pairs causing the two to face each other before Draco stood to get the ingredients while Y/N got the other supplies. As the pair attempted to make the potion Draco set out on a mission to cheer Y/N up, he didn’t care about most people but couldn’t help caring for her.

“You don’t impress me, you know,” Y/N chuckled as Malfoy tried to balance three glass vials in his palm before they fell and shattered causing the pair to gasp as Slughorn walked over quickly.

“Merlin’s beard what were you attempting?” He asked confused at how a simple potion could’ve ended in three broken vials.

“Sorry professor, it slipped, I’ll clear it.” Y/N muttered as Horace shook his head and walked away, leaving her too it. Malfoy chuckled quietly causing her to send him a death glare which resulted in him holding his arms up in defence.

As the lesson finished Draco, who usually left as soon as he could, stayed back to walk with Y/N causing her to look at him in confusion but instead of providing him with an answer he smiled and walked close to her side.

Walking into the courtyard, the pair groaned at the sight of the beloved ‘golden trio’ also known as the chosen one and his accomplices. The three had given Y/N stick for being Snape’s daughter since third year and it was a well-known fact that Malfoy didn’t get along with them. As much as they tried to avoid the group, they ended up face to face with Harry Potter.

“What do you want, Potter?” Malfoy spat, his hand close to Y/N’s, almost in a comforting manner.

“What’s your dad up to?” Harry glared at Y/N causing her eyes to widen, it wasn’t usual for Harry to be this confrontational with her. She felt Malfoy tense up next to her as she regained her composure, her eyes glaring as she found her temper rising.

“First of all, don’t you dare approach me like that. I don’t care if you’re the ‘chosen one’, to me you’re nothing but a brat who thinks the whole world will bow at his feet. I hate to break it to you, but I won’t. Second of all, nothing that concerns you. Keep mine and my father’s names out of your bloody mouth.” She hissed before holding Malfoy’s forearm gently, aware of what lied under his sleeve, and pulled them away and into the great hall to sit with the rest of the Slytherin’s for dinner.

“That was … impressive,” Malfoy laughed as they sat at the table, far away enough from everyone that they could have their own private conversation.

“He just manages to wind me up in a way no one else does, always on a vendetta against you, me and dad.” She frowns, to which Draco strokes the back of her hand causing goosebumps to rise as her cheeks flushed.

The next day fifth years were allowed to go to Hogsmead but Y/N chose to stay back, there was nothing she wanted to do more than sit with a warm butterbeer and a book, as much as Pansy begged her to go. Around mid-day her father burst into the common room, luckily Y/N was the only person there.

“Thank Merlin you’re here, are you alone?” He asked and she looked up at her father startled. “Are you alone?!” He barked.

“Yes, yes. Everyone else is at Hogsmead why?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Draco tried to complete the mission, but some gormless little girl messed with it and now she’s with Madame Pomfrey.” He sighed before stroking his daughter’s hair. “I need to go clean up this mess but keep your head down.” Severus said before leaving Y/N alone with her worries.

As the common room filled with more Slytherins, no one spoke of the incident with Katie Bell, Pansy only told her the basics when she’d asked. She subtly searched the common room but the Slytherin she had hoped to see was nowhere to be seen

She walked into the great hall with Pansy for dinner, keeping an eye out for Draco. Listening to Pansy rant about boys was usually entertaining but today it was borderline irritating due to the worry that sat in her chest.

Her head lifted when Potter stood to talk to Katie Bell making her role her eyes, of course he wanted to be involved. Her attention was drawn away from the scene when her favourite Slytherin entered, she bit her lip at how he tensed seeing the pair talking at the front of the hall. As soon as he stormed out of the room, she got up to follow him, leaving the table without a goodbye. She cursed under her breath as Harry overtook her, chasing Malfoy out of the hall.

Y/N walked as fast as she could, trying to imagine where the two could’ve gone before she heard aggressive voices coming from the bathroom a long walk from where she was stood. Her walk turned into a run when shouts turned into spells, her blood running cold as she heard ‘sectumsempra’ being cast, a spell taught to her by her father. She knew who had cursed it, Malfoy wasn’t stupid enough to use a spell like that.

Turning into the bathroom, she gasped at Malfoys bloodied body on the floor. Running to sit next to him she turned to glare at Harry.

“You absolute fool, who do you think you are sending curses like that?” she yelled before yelling for her dad who came soon after.

Staying by Malfoy’s side, she stared at the back of Harry’s head as he ran out the room, calling him a coward under her breath. She walked to the infirmary with her father, avoiding his stare. She knew he didn’t understand why she cared so much, they’d known the Malfoy’s for years and she’d never shown Draco as being a friend, he was an acquaintance at best. Once Draco was settled in the room, still unconscious, her father motioned towards the door.

Meeting outside he looked at her puzzled.

“I know you told me not to get involved but I could see how much he was struggling, and I-I saw him come in and then Harry go out and no one deserves to feel like this and-” She was cut off by Severus holding her close for a long minute before letting go and looking into his daughters eyes.

“You … care for the boy?” He asked, searching her eyes for a reaction.

She nodded, looking away. “I think I have for a while, maybe since we met …”

“After all this time?” He stared.

“Always.” Y/N flushed, looking into the infirmary where Draco was waking up.

Snape nodded, clearly thinking before pulling her close again.

“Just stay safe and don’t get involved with this please, I am begging you.” He pleaded and let out a relieved sigh when she nodded.

As Severus left to tend to the cursed necklace, Y/N went to tend to Draco.

“Hey,” she smiled sadly at him, to which he smiled and gestured to the chair next to his bed in return. She sat down and he reached the play with her fingers causing her to bite her lip to suppress a smile.

“My first battle, have I impressed you yet?” He smirked, wincing slightly in pain causing her to shake her head while chuckling.

“You idiot, you’re the only one who’s ever impressed me … I just never told you, Merlin knows we don’t need your ego getting any bigger.” She laughed causing him to pretend to be offended before laughing with her.

“He mentioned you … that’s what made me so angry, I shouldn’t have fired a spell at him any way and I wasn’t going to, but he started saying how we were in on it together, I don’t want you to get dragged town with me.” He muttered. Y/N reached out caressing his jaw, careful to avoid his bruises.

“I can look after myself Draco.” She whispered, looking down.

“We can look after each other.” He smiled.

#harry potter #draco imagine #draco malfoy #reader #draco malfoy x y/n #Harry Potter imagines

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the-angst-chronicles-fanworks · 3 years

Text

Draco’s Wish [Pt 1/14]

> | >>

WORD COUNT: 4411

PAIRING: Drarry

TAGS:

hidden identity

Down and Out Draco Malfoy

Pretty Draco Malfoy

Talented Draco Malfoy

Auror Harry Potter

Smitten Harry Potter

Harry Potter Being an Asshole (just for a while)

Angst

Fluff

Angst with a Happy Ending

Falling In Love

Torture

SUMMARY: Draco does a good deed and is granted a wish - 12 days of anonymity in a world that hates him

COMMENTS: This was supposed to be my take on a Christmas romcom, but I missed Christmas so now it's just my take on a romcom. This chapter is very angst, but it will get much more fluffy later on I promise

I tried new things with my writing this story. Hopefully it works out well.

CW: Sexual Assault

on FF.net

on AO3

STORY:

December 4th, 2007

Draco wakes up to a day like any other in the dull mundanity that is his life. He opens his eyes to a barren ceiling with cracks and spots in the plaster and sun shining in through the holes in his tatty curtains. His tiny apartment is freezing, containing neither a fireplace nor a built-in heating charm. Winter is Draco’s least favourite time of the year, the cold seeping into his bones and threatening to freeze them still for eternity.

There is no desire to curl up under his cover – his single blanket is too threadbare to offer any meaningful warmth, and the two minutes of warmth that his shower can manage is a much better option. Draco gets out of bed quickly and goes about his morning routine of a quick shower, his bath a race against the limited hot water. He gets out, dries off as quickly as he can before the water on his body freezes in he cold air of the apartment, and pulls on his baggy oversized clothes. He dresses fully, fingers shaking as he does up his ragged winter coat and slips on his holey gloves. Only once he’s dressed does he go back to brush his teeth, carefully avoiding getting anything on his clothes.

He glances over at his ‘kitchen’ – a battered old stove that only works half the time, a tiny ice box, with a folding table as a counter – but the only food he has left is a half-frozen loaf of bread. He weighs the effort of toasting some on the stove, but there’s no guarantee that it will turn on and he’s has limited time before he is due at work. Besides, he’d had breakfast yesterday – eating again so soon would be wasteful.

Draco slips his money pouch into his boot and gives his apartment a quick once over to double-check that he hasn’t left anything behind, then slips out into the dank hallway. He pulls his door closed firmly, jamming it as much as he can to assuage the fact that it doesn’t lock. It’s expected that the resident will use a locking charm, but Draco doesn’t have a wand. His had been lost to Potter and there was no-one willing to sell him another. When his mother died, he’d been too caught up in grief to consider asking to keep her wand, and it had been buried with her. So now he’s here, unable to lock his door or heat his apartment.

Draco shakes his head, forcibly banishing the thought. There’s no use dwelling on things that he cannot change. He tugs his hood up over his head and turns, making his way downstairs into the lobby and out into the street. It’s a cold day, and blustering, and Draco fights the wind as he makes his way down the street. It stings at the skin it finds through the holes in his gloves and lifts the ends of his coat. Draco sticks his hands into his pockets with a huff, lowering his head against the stinging snow blasting against his face in tiny pinpricks.

Then the wind catches his hood and whips it away from his head. Draco panics, grabbing at the fabric to pull it back over his head but it’s too late. From behind, he hears a snarl of “Filth!”, and then hands are suddenly shoving him roughly from behind. Draco yelps, flinging out his hands to catch himself and he lands hard against the cold cobblestones.

He feels his gloves tearing more, palms scraping against harsh stone. Draco can’t help his yelp of pain, looking wildly over his shoulder, but nobody is looking at him. With an inhaled hiss, he pulls himself to his feet, double checking that his hood is back up before bringing his hands up for inspection. As he’d suspected, the gloves have ripped and the scrape against the ground has broken through the skin and drawn bloody scratches across his palms.

He flexes them, and bites back a whimper at the pain it brings. There’s nothing he can do about it now, though, so he steels himself and braces against the wind, leaving his hands to get blasted so that he can hold on to his hood and prevent it from being blown off again.

Thankfully, it is not too much further to his job, and he’s soon slipping into the back door of Forsythe’s Potions and Apothecary. He releases a relieved breath as a wave of warm air hits him, and just takes a moment to stand and relish the feeling of comfort it brings. The sting in his palm makes itself known again after another moment, and spurs Draco to action.

He slips off his coat and gloves and hangs them on a hook on the back wall. He takes a moment to lean his head against the wall, exhausted already though the day has just begun, then turns and goes up to the door separating the backroom from the front of store. He pauses there and draws a deep, fortifying breath, steeling himself – facing his boss is never a pleasant process – and raises a hand to rap sharply on the door.

There’s a moment of waiting, then the door is yanked open and Draco is face to face with his boss, Edgar Forsythe Charles, a short, squat, beady-eyed man with a pencil thin moustache and oil-slicked black hair. “Malfoy,” he barks. “What have I told you about disturbing me?”

“My apologies Mr. Forsythe,” Draco says, making a tone to keep his tone deferent. He holds up his hand, displaying his bloodied palm. “I don’t want to handle the ingredients with bloodied hands, so I was hoping you could heal them?”

Forsythe scowls deeply. “Do you think this is St-bloody-Mungoes?” He rages. “I’m not your personal servant Malfoy. You can bloody well deal with this shit yourself!” Draco stares into his reddened face and swallows down his frustration.

“If I have to go out and buy a healing potion it will take up time. Surely it would be better to just –“

“Don’t tell me what’s best!” Bellows Forsythe. He steps forward menacingly, and Draco can’t help his own step back. “Your inability to cast a simple healing charm is not my problem Malfoy. Deal with this.” His face twists into a mean sneer. “And don’t think I’m going to pay you for any time you miss,” he hisses.

“Yes sir,” Draco grits out, vividly imagining hexing Forsythe to bits.

Forsythe gives an oily smirk. “Get to it then,” he says, “and don’t think of shirking out. If you’re not back by noon you’re fired.” Then he sweeps off back into the front room, leaving Draco standing there trembling with anger.

How he wishes he could just tell Forsythe what for and leave this ignominious job behind, but the truth is that he’s lucky to had it. When he’d been released from Azkaban, he’d found a world that had no place for him – he was hated from both sides, both for being a Death Eater and not being a committed enough one. He’d been at wits end, on the brink of starvation, when he’d found Forsythe who had been thankfully more enticed by the idea of exploitable labour than he was turned off by who Draco was. He may hate Draco, treat him like shit, underpay him – but he’d given him the job, and that was more than Draco can say of anyone else.

So, he swallows his anger and turns with a sigh to return to the chilly street. With the requirement to return by noon, there is no time to go to St. Mungo’s, and neither is there a guarantee that he’ll be seen there. It depends on who’s in front when he goes in, and which Healer he ends up with.

No, there is only once place that he can go – the only shop that will sell to him at only moderately extorted prices. It’s also Draco’s least favourite place to be.

The trudge to the shop is long, as it’s all the way at the other end of Knockturn right on the corner of Diagon. Draco spends the whole walk with his head down, hands thankfully tucked in his pockets as the wind is to his back, steeling himself.

The shop is not very large – tall and narrow and unassuming. A faded sign above the entrance declares it Ugbert’s Emporium. Draco pushes inside, the bells above the door tinkling to announce his arrival. The dark room is empty of another human presence, but a shout of “I’ll be right with you!” echoes from the back room.

Draco takes a steadying breath and walks up to the counter as the curtain to the back room is pushed aside and the shop’s proprietor enters. He is a long, spindly man with rich, thick chestnut hair and a well-groomed beard. His dark, sunken eyes dart to meet Draco’s, and a greasy smile crosses his face, revealing several gold teeth.

“Little Malfoy,” he says in an unctuous voice. “What a pleasure to see you.”

“Ugbert.” returns Draco, keeping his voice as bland as possible. “I require a healing potion.”

Ugbert steps closer, around the counter so that he can see Draco fully. “Aww, you poor thing. Are you hurt?” He asks.

Draco digs his nails into his own bloodied palm and forces down his disgust. “It is just a scratch. Nothing to worry about,” he answers shortly.

Ugbert is not dissuaded by his aloofness. “Good, good,” he says instead, running his knuckles down Draco’s cheek. Draco twitches, but resists pulling away. He’s learnt that lesson, knows what is expected of him here if he is to get anything he’s looking for.

Ugbert pulls him in closer, a hand sliding down Draco’s torso and hip to cup his behind. Draco raises his chin, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “The potion, Ugbert,” he reminds him. Ugbert leers at him.

“I will need to see the injuries, so I may determine which potion will be best,” he says. His hands are now massaging at Draco’s ass, and he shudders in revulsion.

“If you show me your stock, I can pick out what I need,” he tries.

Ugbert chuckles. “I don’t think so,” he says right against Draco’s ear, grinding his hips forward. Draco feels his erection pressing against him and shudders. He quickly brings his hands up and turns his palms to Ugbert.

“Here. It’s just scratches, as I’ve said,” he says. Ugbert pulls back, looking down at his palms. He looks almost disappointed.

“Very well, let me check my inventory,” he says, stepping around the counter. Draco waits impatiently as he ducks down and inspects the wears in the lower shelves. “I can sell you a Minor Wiggenweld for twelve Galleons,” he eventually offers, straightening up with the bottle of potion in hand.

Draco stares at him in disbelief. “A Minor Wiggenweld? That’s overkill Ugbert. Don’t you have just a Healing Potion?”

“I might have one at home,” Ugbert leers, and Draco grimaces in disgust. It’s way too much, a huge chunk of his salary that will leave his food budget for the foreseeable future considerably lowered, but –

“I’ll take it,” he says hurriedly, pulling his coin pouch from his boot. He counts out twelve Galleons, inwardly wincing at the amount as he places them onto the counter.

Ugbert slides over the potion bottle and collects his Galleons. “A pleasure doing business with you,” he says with his sleazy smile.

“Likewise,” Draco answers stiffly, collecting his potion and money pouch to his coat pocket. He tugs his hood over his head and hurries back out into the street, relieved to be away from the old pervert.

He makes it back to work with no incident, and just a single sip of the potion is enough to heal his scraped palms. He looks at the expensive and mostly full bottle dejectedly. What a waste of money. He tries to look at the bright side – at the very least he will have a stock of healing potion at home now. It doesn’t make him feel much better.

With a sigh, Draco puts away the potion and goes to wash his hands in the little sink in the corner. He stops by the door to the front room, rapping on it sharply once to alert Forsythe that he’s back. He waits for the answering thump – signalling Forsythe’s annoyance that he’s being disturbed, but now he can’t pretend he doesn’t know that Draco’s back and withhold pay – before making his way over to his desk beside which a pile of boxes sits waiting. It’s a new shipment of ingredients for him to sort and package, and with a put-upon sigh Draco pulls on his Nugskin gloves and gets to work.

The work requires practically no mental input, and Draco finds his mind wondering as he counts and packs ingredients. In the front room, Forsythe has the wireless playing as he often does, and Draco hums along to the muffled melodies he can hear through the door. Customers come in sometimes, but they rarely provide interesting conversation.

Draco does listen to their questions though, mentally criticizing where Forsythe’s answers could be improved, either with the potions he suggested for their issues or – more rarely – the brewing instructions he gave them for potions.

By late afternoon, Draco has finished sorting through the new shipment and moves on to preparing the ingredients Forsythe with need for the list of potions he’d left on Draco’s desk. There is a lull from the front of house, no customers having come in for the past forty or so minutes. The wireless fills the silence, now into a newscast about the case that Potter and Granger have presented to the Wizengamot.

The case has been on the wireless often in the past few months. The pair have been championing house-elf rights or some such, and the case has now apparently been presented and the Wizengamot is in discussion. The witch briefly recaps Potter and Granger’s journey on this objective this far, and then Potter is brought on. His voice is rich and warm, and still sends shivers down Draco’s spine as he talks about how he is confident that the Wizengamot will make the right decision.

Then a customer comes in and demands that Forsythe change the channel. She and Forsythe begin wanking each other off about how very insulted they are about Saintly Potter trying to take away their servants. Draco rolls his eyes, but he can’t help feeling a little relieved that they’ve changed the channel. It’s hard for him to hear Potter’s voice – the feeling it brings up is mostly shame at how low he’s fallen while Potter is a shining beacon for the wizarding world, but there’s also the lingering feeling of lust that thoughts of Potter always arise.

The new channel is recapping this weeks Quidditch scores, and Draco half listens as he ferries ingredients over to the cauldrons, each with their own long table on which Draco sets the ingredients for the night’s potions in the order they’re needed. It seems it’s been a good week for the Falcons and, predictably, Forsythe soon starts gloating.

“I always knew the Falcons had potential!” He proclaims loudly. “They just needed the right push. Good job that new bird joined and whipped them into shape.” Draco rolls his eyes. The ‘new bird’ – Ginny Weasley – has been with the team for over three years now. The customer opines that the Magpies are going to take back the title, and Draco tunes out the conversation as light bickering ensues.

Finished with the ingredient prep, he tidies the work area, sweeps and mops the floors and locks up the ingredient cases. As he’s finishing up, he hears the customer leave and Forsythe locking up behind him. He pokes his head into the front room and calls “I’ll be off then Mr. Forsythe!”.

Forsythe glares at him and snaps “Just go, how many times have I got to tell you not to stick your pointy little nose into my store?”

Draco pulls his head back and closes the door, rolling his eyes. It’s not like anyone will see him now that the store’s closed, so he doesn’t bother heeding Forsythe’s request. It’s in his best interest to ensure that Forsythe can’t pretend that Draco’s ducked out early.

It’s warmed up a little, so he takes his time walking back to his apartment, enjoying the fresh crisp air. He takes a little too long, because by the time he gets to his apartment Mrs. Doxley, his next-door, has also arrived home and is standing in her doorway arguing with her husband as she does every day.

Draco groans inwardly as he sees her, his steps faltering a moment before picking back up in resignation. Mrs. Doxely looks up and sees him, her face twisting in disgust. “If It isn’t Lucius’ boy,” she spits. “It’s your father’s fault I’m living in this shithole you know!”

So she’d told him every time she saw him, although he had yet to learn what exactly his father had done to cause her predicament. He likely wasn’t going to learn it this time either. “I’m sorry Mrs. Doxley,” is all he says, not wanting to antagonize her further. She leans close and spits at his face in response, and Draco doesn’t quite duck out of the way in time.

He does avoid the kick though, and she glowers at him before storming into her apartment. Grimacing in disgust, Draco lets himself into his own apartment and tiredly goes to the bathroom and scrubs his face clean. Then he returns to the main room to slump onto the bed, feeling properly downtrodden.

His life really has gone to shite, and it’s not as though he doesn’t deserve it but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. He thinks about his past self, that carefree spoilt child that he’d been, and mourns for him. He wishes he could go back to that time and stay there, suspended in cruel ignorance forever. Some days, he wishes he’d died at the Battle of Hogwarts, gotten caught up in the Fiendfyre after all or perhaps caught by a stray curse on the battlefield, or sentenced to death by the Ministry. Surely it would be preferable to struggling to eke out the miserable existence he had now.

But he hadn’t died, he was here, and so live he would. Draco forces himself to his feet, putting his potion and money pouch on his bedside crate before changing into his pyjamas and washing his clothes for the next day.

December 8th, 2007

“I’ll be heading out now Mr. Forsythe,” Draco calls, poking his head out into the front of the store.

Forsythe whips around. “No, you won’t,” he snaps. Draco stiffens, half expecting a reprimand, but Forsythe just says “I’ve got an appointment to make. You’ll have to close up front too.” He starts to leave, then pauses and turns to glare at Draco. “Don’t mess anything up or it’s coming out of your salary.” He barks, and then he’s gone.

Draco sighs but obligingly steps into the front room. He’s not allowed here often – Forsythe doesn’t want customers seeing him and doesn’t half trust him besides. But the man had always been self-serving first, so if it was in his best interest to let Draco close the front he would do so, trust or not. Draco locks up the cases here too, sweeps and mops the floor, and wipes down the windows, door, and case-fronts. He knows that Forsythe doesn’t do all of this daily, but it’s expected when Draco’s the one closing the front. He doesn’t mind, and he works languidly – he has nowhere to be after all, and the shop is warm.

He locks the front door then returns to the front counter to count the till and put the money into the safe under the counter. This is the special Draco-safe of course, here for the specific case of Draco closing the front. He isn’t to know the combination of the actual safe, or even it’s location. He isn’t complaining though – the less he knows, the less Forsythe can blame him for if there ever is a robbery.

That done, he turns to his final task of wiping down the counter, humming a tune that had been playing on the wireless earlier as he works. He picks up a crumpled-up bag that Forsythe had left on the corner, expecting it to be garbage, but to his surprise he finds that there is some weight to it. Confused, he peers inside and finds that Forsythe has discarded a pair of bagels.

Draco can’t believe his luck. Fresh bagels? All he has to look forward to at home is frozen bread – he could jump for excitement at this find. He carries them to the back room and tucks them carefully into his back pocket before returning to the front and double-checking that everything is in order. Finally, he shuts off the lamps and returns to the back, donning his coat and gloves and stepping out into the Alley, locking the door firmly behind him.

It’ s a cold evening, but not windy. Draco briefly considers the thought of going back to his apartment, but quickly discards it. He’s tired of looking at those four cracked walls, and it’s not like the apartment will be any warmer than out here. He’s been trying to learn wandless heating charms, but he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of them yet.

Instead, he sticks his hand in his pockets and walks down to the dead end of Knockturn, pushing on the slightly off-colour brick near his left kneecap to open the portal to Muggle London.

The Knockturn entrance is not quite as nice as the Diagon entrance. This way opens out to a rundown little street with cracks in the road, small houses with chain-linked fences, a brightly lit little corner shop, and a small park that was scarcely more than some grass and three trees. Nevertheless, Draco makes a beeline for the park, enjoying spending some time in the outdoors. It’s peaceful and serene here, the world blanketed by a layer of snow that seemed to insulate him, making it feel like he’s the only person in the world.

In moments like this, Draco can forget who he is and just exist.

He opens his eyes after a moment, sighing into the calm of the night as his stomach rumbles restlessly. He smiles slightly. He’ll have something better than stale toast tonight at least.

Turning, Draco makes his way to the only bench in the park so he can sit and eat his supper. When he gets there, however, he finds that it is not empty for the first time in the years he’s been coming to this park. There on the bench are a woman and a little girl, shivering, huddled together under a blanket for warmth. They are gaunt in a way that Draco recognizes, that he’s seen in the mirror during the bad months, and they’re clearly no more equipped for winter than Draco in his threadbare coat.

The woman looks up and catches sight of Draco. “Excuse me,” she says. “do you have any money for food? Please, we haven’t eaten in days!”

Draco hesitates. He has no muggle money on him, only the bag of bagels in his pocket, and he doesn’t want to give that over – he rarely gets much to eat and something so fresh is a treat. He has the last of his frozen bread at home, yes, but with the expensive purchase of the potion earlier he wasn’t going to have to reduce his food spending for the next little while. He has so little – surely the plight of these people shouldn’t be his to reduce?

He opens his mouth, about to tell her “No, sorry,” when something in her eyes stops him. It’s the desperation, something he has experienced so often in his own life – how often had he wished somebody would just give him a helping hand? Now it appears that he’s in the position to give the helping hand. He has little, but he has enough to help.

Draco curses quietly but stops and turns to her. “Here,” he says brusquely, shoving the bag of bagels at her. He doesn’t wait for her thanks – he doesn’t want it, not really. She calls it after his back anyway, and the sincere gratitude in it gives him pause. Somehow, he doesn’t feel too bad as he goes home and toasts the last of his frozen bread.

The night is still thankfully not too cold as he tucks himself in for bed, and he has a deep, uninterrupted sleep. The dream that comes to him is strange – he’s alone in a black place, or at least seems to be alone. His instincts ping though, with the feeling that he’s not alone.

“Hello?” He calls out, turning in a circle. “Is someone there?”

Before him, a figure blinks into existence. It at once looks human and not, bright and glowing with a shifting iridescence. Draco startles and stumbles backward.

“Who are you?” He asks.

The presence answers, but not verbally. Its answer seems to reverberate all around them, and within Draco’s own head. “I am a wish,” it says, “made by a child in her hour of need. You have fulfilled that wish. We thank your generosity Draco Malfoy.”

Draco blinks. A wish made manifest – a child’s tale from his bedtime stories. Merlin, he’d done one good deed and now his subconscious was dragging up a fairy-tale reward for his dreams. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“Great,” he says, not wanting to entertain this but also not wanting to waste time arguing with dreamt-up wish magic. “What are you here for then?”

“A wish granted is a wish given,” answers the light. It floats closer. “And your wish, Draco Malfoy, shall be anonymity. Twelve days, I grant you. During this time, you shall be recognized not, even by those looking plain upon your face. After this time, memories made of you shall not be connected to you unless the recaller lays eyes upon you. This you are given.”

Then the light grows, bright and brighter still, until Draco is surrounded by white.

#drarry #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter fanfiction #Drarry fanfic #writing #draco #harry #angst #fluff #Draco's Wish

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aemondtragaryen-archived · 4 years

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💡 ‘death with dignity’ and 🌠 an artsy girl who stargazes?

Hi, thanks for the ask!

I really love this title. Death with dignity automatically makes me think of a Draco x reader. I can see it with the reader being in Slytherin like him and they both come from similar families, you know - pure blooded, wealthy, and very prejudiced. The two of them would be very close friends and pine for each other without one another knowing that they both share the same feelings for one another. In a world where Voldemort didn’t exist, the two of them definitely could’ve ended up getting together and having a happy ending. In this fact, I would write it being a scenario where Voldemort is there and it’s very lined up of canon.

I would write this fact to spread out overtime starting in the goblet of fire where truly going to be there are still friends because they’re only 14 and young. Clear through a lot of internal struggles mostly with her families pure blooded believes that she just finds more and more herself not really agreeing with as she grows and forms her own opinions. Be aware that if she ended up not following her parents examples and their pure blood supremacy then she would definitely be the sound and at that point it wasn’t worth it to her, especially since she cares so much about her friendship with Draco. There would be scenes where she’s obviously struggling with her beliefs but that being pushed to the brink of what she can handle at the end when Cedric of course dies. at this point she has a turning point in her belief system that she was raised on and what her best friend believes in during the order of the Phoenix. The reader ends up being in Dumbledore‘s army in overtime we get to see her become friends with the people that she’s really hated for the past four years because of her friendship with Draco. We would really get to see some growth in her character and for standing up for what’s right especially with Umbridge.

All the while, she is still struggling with her feelings for Draco. I think at this point she kind of said she is in love with him despite not wanting to be in distance herself from him because of her own feelings as well as his suspicions and her behavior with her sneaking around and she’s going to the DA meetings. I definitely see a confrontation scene set in the order of the Phoenix where Draco is worthy inquisitorial squad and is sent by umbrage to catch some members of the DA if he ends up finding her instead of Harry Potter‘s friends. he definitely be shocked and probably disgusted. I think Draco would kind of loosely accuse her of betraying him and fraternizing with the enemy, which is really overdramatic and something he would definitely do. then the reader would get mad at him and probably an argument would spark out and she be so angry that she would admit her feelings for him. He would feel the same, and she would notice, but she is beginning to take this path where she is standing up against Umbridge which is a path he will never take. At this point, she is really disgusted with how her pure blood family believes in Voldemort like Draco‘s family does and even if they do love each other, her beliefs with trump her love for him.

I could see this ending with her telling him that he’s taking the wrong path and that whatever she felt for him is pointless if he’s not going to be the person that she knows he could be. He would try to warn her one last time that she was the one that was taking the wrong path instead and that when the dark Lord comes out in power that she’ll be one of the first to die if she becomes nothing better than a blood traitor. The line I picture her saying in response with disgust in her voice would be “better to die a blood traitor than a supporter of Him. At least I would have some death with dignity.”

^if that wasn’t self indulgent 🤭

Here’s the mood board you requested >:)

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torestoreamends · 4 years

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Light in the Darkness Day 1 – Malfoy

This is my contribution for the first day of Light in the Darkness. Today’s prompt is ‘Malfoy’, and I couldn’t help but base it on one of my favourite moments from a perfect weekend at Cursed Child: the hug between James’s Draco and Gordon’s Scorpius. I hope you enjoy.

It’s just the two of them. Albus and Scorpius. Shivering beneath the iron grey sky. Waiting.

Scorpius can feel Albus fidgeting agitatedly beside him. The light is beginning to fade, pumpkins leer out at them from the windows of the surrounding houses, and time is running out.

Lily and James and Harry are home. Delphi could arrive at any moment. They’ve done everything they can to help, but will it be enough?

Albus picks at his fingernails and scans up and down the road. He’s bouncing his knee, the incessant movement rubbing against Scorpius’s leg. Scorpius can barely restrain himself from snapping at Albus to calm down, but he knows he’d be a hypocrite if he did. He’s done far worse over the years, and he knows how Albus must be feeling right now — stomach twisted into sickening knots, heart clenched, helpless as someone he loves and needs teeters on the brink of life and death.

Scorpius tucks his frostbitten fingers into the pockets of his coat and watches a pair of bats dart low above the road, their dance silhouetted against the peacock blue sky. As he watches, his thoughts flit around inside his head, quick and restless. He runs through everything that might happen. Everything that might go wrong. Everything they could have done but haven’t. Everything they might still have to do.

And he thinks about his dad. They haven’t had chance to talk since his dad herded him from the lake up to the castle, scolding him all the way.

He’d give anything to have his dad telling him off right now. He’d give anything for one last conversation. One last chance to say sorry. Sorry for not being able to stop Delphi. For probably resigning them both to spend their lives locked in that bleak other world, where everything was cold and awful. Hot chocolates by the fire traded for formality and salutes and secrets.

He gets caught somewhere between the feeling of his dad’s fingers pinching his skin as he pressed him into the dark varnished wood of that desk and the look in his dad’s eyes, the tremble of his voice when he said those words. ‘I can’t lose you too.’

Scorpius hasn’t been safe, he hasn’t been sensible, he hasn’t followed his dad’s orders. Now he might be lost. Everything might be lost.

He stares down at his knees, Dementor fog swimming in his head and his chest, and it takes him a second to realise that Albus isn’t next to him anymore. Albus is on his feet. By the time Scorpius looks up, Albus is running.

“Mum!”

“Albus Severus Potter, are we pleased to see you.”

That’s Harry’s voice. Harry Potter. Here. Now. In Godric’s Hollow. It’s impossible. But there he is. There Ginny is. There Albus is, hugging his parents as they swamp him in desperate love and relief.

“You got our note?” Albus mumbles into his mum’s shoulder as she crushes him against her.

“We got your note.”

Albus melts in her arms, and Scorpius doesn’t know if he wants to beam with joy and relief or burst into tears because he wants that. He wants his dad. After all this, he doesn’t know how he can go on any longer without him.

As he turns away to stop the gnawing ache in his heart, he sees a black blur flying straight at him, on a collision course. He turns and runs without a thought, assuming it’s a Dementor, or Delphi, or-

He’s not sure how he knows he’s not being followed, but after a couple of steps down the street, he grinds to a halt.

Silence. No pursuing footsteps. No flap of wings or rustle of a cloak. No rattling breaths. Cautiously he glances over his shoulder and sees the person standing behind him.

His dad looks just the same as always. Neat black mourning robes, hair scraped back into the most precise of ponytails, grey eyes reflecting the heavy October sky. His mouth is slightly open, frozen halfway to speech. He’s staring at Scorpius, one hand out in the clenched fist of someone who doesn’t think they’ll manage to catch the thing they’re reaching toward.

Scorpius doesn’t know what to do or what to say. He’s rooted to the spot, limbs stiff and sore from hours in the cold. His heart and mind have gone very still. Normally they’d be flapping at him to do something, say something, to panic and try to garble his way out of the situation. But now they’ve abandoned him and he’s powerless to make the first move.

His dad opens and closes his mouth. Swallows. Glances back at the Potters, who have stopped hugging to watch, and then beyond, to Hermione and Ron, who have their arms around each other. Finally he looks back at Scorpius, and his expression is no longer heavy with unshed snow but bright with the final silver rush of sunset.

“We...” His dad stops and swallows. He unclenches his fist and gestures between them, then back to the Potters. “We can hug too. If you like.”

And with his mind and heart still in free fall, Scorpius doesn’t even have a decision to make. Of course he likes. Of course he wants. This is his dad. His dad is here.

He flings himself back down the street and tackles his dad in the tightest hug he can muster.

There might be tears. There might be joy. There might be relief. All Scorpius knows is that his dad’s arms are wrapped around him, squeezing him, pushing the shattered fragments of him back into place and clenching them there like a brace.

Scorpius buries his face in his dad’s shoulder and hopes the hug carries on. On and on and on, until he’s had time to fuse back together, because he’s never felt so whole as he does now. Here in his dad’s arms. Forty years in the past. On the worst day ever, which he now knows is also the day they’re going to save the world.

#Scorpius Malfoy #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter and the Cursed Child #Cursed Child #Cursed Child Fic #Light in the Darkness #James Howard #Gordon Millar #Notes from the show #Sort of #My writing #Keep The Secrets #Malfoy family feels #What the world needs right now is more Malfoy hugs I think #It’s certainly what I need...

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hogwartsfirebolt · 5 years

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This is the very best fic I have ever, ever read. I promise you that I am not kidding: A fic rec.

Grounds for Divorce - @tepre - 122k - Explicit

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

In the 18 months I have been an active member of this community, I must have read no less than a thousand wonderful stories, many of which have touched me in ways I could never fully articulate. Whenever someone asked, I would recommend four, five fics, never able to pick just one as my favorite, I thought that, with so many stories out there, loving one above all others would surely be impossible. I was incredibly, deeply, beautifully wrong.

Thoughts under read more

I struggle to think of a place to begin this rec, because there is no way any of my words can ever truly do this masterpiece justice. I suppose I could begin by telling you that this story is so damn brilliant in every single aspect that I can’t wrap my own head around how much I adore it with every piece of my silly little self, or that it is so careful in its execution that I didn’t even realize when exactly it was that I irremediably fell in love, or that I had never read a piece of fanwork that held such a deep understanding of itself, that there was little I could do but let myself be pulled right into the heart of it, of this.

I was lucky enough to get to know it when it was still about 50k words long, and even then, when I sat down and read all of that, I knew that this was something incredibly special, and every single word that was added since then only made me feel even more sure that I was witnessing the birth of what is surely going to become a fandom classic. At least for me, it shifted my entire perception of the pairing, the fandom, the entire wizarding world. There is a before and after Grounds for Divorce for me.

Now, the concept in itself is simple. This is a bonding fic. You know the kind. Harry and Draco are nothing to each other after the war, and somehow find themselves literally on the brink of death unless they touch each other. That’s what it is. A bonding fic. But, oh dear, if you go into it expecting just THAT, it will literally knock you out. I’m not kidding. Just, poof, passed out on the floor, because despite using a pretty popular fandom trope as a base, that’s about the only thing that isn’t 100% unique to this story.

This is the moment when I tell you that there are about seven years between chapter 1 and chapter 10. Yes, we get to see Harry and Draco from age 18 to 25 or so. That is the first thing that is notably different from any other bonding fic I have ever read, that they’re stuck together for literal years, and so they can’t stop living their lives while they are bonded, no, the show must go on. The second thing that makes this special are the mechanics of the bond itself, and how it’s a simple spell that makes them sick when they go a long time without touching each other, and when they do touch each other, it pushes for more more more in such desperate, delicious fashion that I clung to my seat when they were first learning how to deal with this desire.

The third thing, the MAIN thing, the most BEAUTIFUL THING that makes this fic special is, of course, the characterization. Oh my GOD. How do I even put this to WORDS. There is just no way I can explain how fucking perfect everybody is in this.

Harry is damaged from the war and doesn’t realize it, Harry has trouble connecting with people and doesn’t realize it, Harry is carrying a hell of a burden on his shoulders and doesn’t realize it. It’s beautiful how much I, as a reader, was able to pick on all these things when Harry himself has no idea that he’s dealing with them. He is angry, he hates being bonded to Draco at first, hates that he has to spend his days with him, and doesn’t even stop to consider that maybe things are different with Draco now, he closes himself up and chooses not to engage, and this, to me, felt like such an accurate depiction of who he is. After everything he went through, this is YET ANOTHER THING he has no control over.

Draco is just lovely. It’s impossible not to love him. He is intense and he’s rambly and seriously annoying, but he’s also damaged, he’s careful with himself after everything that happened, and he genuinely does try to be better, and that is something that always makes me so weak in the knees for him, when he is truly just good and doing his best not to fuck up.

Their interaction is difficult to describe, because it changes every moment the more they get to know each other. We begin with a lot of anger on Harry’s side, confusion and hurt on Draco’s side, and as they learn how to navigate the fact that they’re now bonded, the situation shifts. Draco tries to connect with Harry, Harry just wants to live his own life. Years and years and years pass, and they go through so much together, they learn to become friends by accident, they learn to care about each other, they shape their lives around each other without even realizing it. They’re married, for all intents and purposes, and dealing with it in very different ways.

The massive amount of growth we see them go through in this is just indescribable. We start with them as boys, hold their hands as they become men.

They hurt each other a lot. Harry hurts Draco for like five or six years straight, being dismissive and impenetrable. Draco hurts Harry later on. They grow together, they date other people, they watch each other date other people, always with this bond between them making things difficult, and it’s really, really messy.

The love story, as we witness it, unfolds almost by accident, entirely underneath the surface, such a masterfully crafted slow burn, that by the time the characters themselves realize what’s happening, they’re elbows deep into it and it’s impossible to turn back. It’s beautiful, the intensity of the feelings simmering for years, the depth to their interactions, how meaningful the little things become, in time, how much Harry’s perception of Draco changes, how much this makes Harry change.

The Harry we end up with is. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. He is. I CANNOT. The intensity with which I THIRSTED over him has no precedents. His single-minded intensity, his focus, his drive, his certainty, how he throws himself headfirst into things once he chooses to and doesn’t look back at all. He is just. Hot as all fuck. That’s it. There’s no other word to describe him. But to get here, to find this beautiful, intense, loving man, we have to go through so many layers of decades-old hurt and his struggles with being human that he’s not even aware of, and, really, this story is about forgiving Harry in so many levels, about finding that even though he saved the world, he’s just human and he has a fuckton of issues, and this deconstruction of the hero persona we find in him, in how he willingly sacrificed himself in the war but now has absolutely no clue how to be open and trust people is just. Delicious. And don’t even get me started on the physicality of him, and how in some parts he’s just sex on legs.

The Draco we end up with is a man so honest and open in his love, a man who overthinks and rambles and is impossibly lovely, a man who goes through so much hurt and still always shows up for the people he loves. He is clever and beautiful and just absolutely wonderful, so loyal and caring that it aches.

Watching these final versions of them love each other made me cry so, so many times.

All of these words have just been an attempt to explain what they are, individually and together, but they are NOTHING. I can never truly explain what happens in those 122k words. It’s something you need to experience for yourself, and there’s so much MORE than this.

There’s Ron, who is the loveliest human of all time, and there’s Hermione, who is still so loyal and fierce and wonderful, and there’s Draco’s friends and baby Rosie, eventually, and every single character was obviously created with so much care that they feel solid, real, even the original ones.

The settings are vibrant, I felt like I was standing in the Malfoy townhouse all those evenings Harry and Draco sat together, I saw Harry’s garden come to life right in front of my eyes, I saw Egypt in stark clarity, once they went there, and actually, that entire section just feels like such an intense sensory immersion in every way, physical and emotional. When they finally have sex, I almost fucking burst out of my skin with the intensity, the depth of each touch, the pace of each scene.

The writing is just beautiful, the kind of structure that reads smoothly and leaves you breathless and makes you feel everything that ever happens in the story, there’s quotes that sometimes literally made me have to stop reading to catch my breath, to regroup before being able to continue, because they were SO beautiful, SO spot on. Every single detail is styled to absolute perfection, not a single hair out of place.

There is nothing like this story. Nothing. I have never felt so connected, I have never loved the characters so deeply, I have never reread anything as many times as I have reread this, I must have read it like 12 times at this point.

It’s not just a fic, it’s an experience. I don’t know what else to say to convince you to allow yourself to go through it, because it is worth every single second. I could beg on my knees right now. It is my number one fic, the best I have ever encountered, and I think it might remain that way, always.

Do yourself a favor and CLICK HERE. Give Tepre your love (all of it, SHE DESERVES ALL OF IT for creating this), allow yourself to feel everything this story has to offer, and once you’ve done that, come to me. I will never tire of this. (heh, reference). ❤️

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #drarry fic recs #ficrec #drarry fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #tepre #grounds for divorce #grounds

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eliasxxxx · 5 years

Text

Healer Draco

Fandom: Harry Potter

Ship: Drarry

Words: 3k

Warnings: Talk of death, pure fluff

Draco can finally escape his family, finally be free. Now, he can live without the fears of being controlled or manipulated. He can truly be who he’s always wanted to be.

—

Harry is dead. Harry is dead, dead, dead. And it’s all Draco’s fault. If he hadn’t let the Death Eaters in, he would still be alive. He would still be living.

Tears slipped down Draco’s face as he thought the same thing over and over again. Hagrid held the boy in his arms, visibly shaking with sobs. Draco looked sympathetically at the man, wondering where his life had gone so wrong. Of course, he knew when it went from bad to worse. As soon as he took that Dark Mark, his life was painted with darkness.

“Draco, come here.” A voice hissed loudly on the opposite side, his father violently telling him to join them. Draco was torn, looking at Harry then the Dark Lord.

His footsteps were the only sound made as he crossed to his parents. He joined them, looking towards the Dark Lord with regret and guilt in the eyes. He felt the weight of those who had already died on his shoulders, everything they had fought for, everything Harry had fought for was for nothing.

“Ahh, Draco. Yes, yes.” He said, bringing him in for a hug. Draco simply stood there and waited for it to end. He just wanted this all to be over.

“Anyone else going to join?” Voldemort asked, looking at the other kids. Draco looked at them, noticing the betrayed looks heading his way. But he looked at the ground, the uneven rocks and burnt spots all around where he was standing. However, when he heard footsteps, Draco looked up immediately. Neville slowly limped forward, blood running down his face.

“Is this all we get?” The man laughed before looking at Neville with curiosity. Draco looked back at Weasley and Granger, who held each other’s hands. They were confused and worried as they looked on, both ready to fight some more. Ready to fight to their death.

“What is your name, boy?”

“My name is Neville Longbottom.” He said weakly, a determined look in his face.

“You show spirit, and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.” The Dark Lord mocked, snarling a little.

“I’ll join you when hell freezes over.” Neville suddenly says, a glare filling his face. The next seconds are a blur, one second Harry is dead then he’s out of Hagrid’s arms, running to the other side. But Draco knew what to do when he saw Harry was alive. He rushed forward, ignoring his parent’s hands reaching toward him. No one could stop him now.

“Harry!” He called, throwing the wand-his wand-towards him. Harry caught it in mid-air and turned around, yelling a spell at the Dark Lord. The battle had begun once more but Draco didn’t know what to do. He reached the other side and looked back at his mother, who had a look of sadness on her face. Yet, he could see she was secretly proud of him abandoning his father. Even if she couldn’t. Draco took a second to breathe, realizing what had just happened, what he did. Harry was alive.

Draco grinned for a moment, looking around him. Those who had just been looking defeated were ready to win this war again. Draco knew where he needed to be. The Hospital Wing.

Without thinking he left the fight and rushed into Hogwarts, his home for seven years, to find Madame Pomfrey. Perhaps all his obsessive studying would come in handy.

***

“Rennervate.” Draco muttered, using the wand that had been given to him. It was different but it would work for the time being. He just needed to focus on getting this man back to life.

“Rennervate.” He said again, louder. He took one glance at the redhead family around him, their tears falling. He knew that they had tried to save him, so many times. But maybe it was the feeling of guilt in him, or simply the feeling of determination, but it fueled him to try one more time. Just one more. Draco looked back at Fred Weasley.

“Rennervate!” He yelled, pointing the wand at his chest and forcing everything he had into it. Fred was not dying on his watch, never again would he lose someone. He couldn’t bear it. Eyes opened and tears fell as the family realized the son they had lost wasn’t dead after all. Draco got up and moved out of their way to the next patient, already so so drained.

Draco moved from patient to patient, some dead and some injured. So far he had counted 34 dead, which was 34 too many. He knew he wouldn’t be able to save them all yet the weight of each one was slowly crushing him as he checked everyone’s pulses. He gasped when he saw his old professor laying on the ground next to his wife, Draco’s relative. Draco rushed forward, ignoring their hands held tightly together. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks lay beside each other. He knew Tonks wasn’t on the wall do his family, but he knew after this he wouldn’t be either.

“No, no, no.” Draco muttered, not feeling a pulse yet. He waited a little bit longer, trying so desperately to fins my hope of life. Draco’s fingers dig into Tonks’ wrist, finally feeling a weak pulse. Tears rushed down his face but he ran a diagnostics check on her, realizing she had been hit pretty hard in the head. Draco immediately started thinking of spells to help her, to save her. His wand sliced through the air with precise movements. He had practiced this many times, it wouldn’t fail him now. He stared at Tonks’ hair, which no longer held the vibrant pink color, instead washed out and seemingly lifeless. It made him try harder, his muscles aching and burning eight he strong movements. But finally, finally he could see it was working. He turned to Remus, noticing the green sparkles in the air around him, faint and only recognizable to someone who had studied this certain spell so many times before. It was the ‘Quasi Mortui’ spell, one that made the victim go to the brink of death, experiencing great pain and torture but not being to die for a while. Draco would have to tread carefully. He carefully said the counter curse. The curse was sometimes ineffective, instead sending the victim straight to their death. When nothing happened, Draco put his head in his hands. He had lost someone important to him who didn’t even know he was important to him. But slowly, ever so slowly, the green sparkles surrounding Professor Lupin began to pop, disappearing into thin air. He was waking. Draco let out a breath of relief before getting up while they slowly woke up, taking deep breaths. They didn’t need to know who had checked on them. Besides, Draco had to keep going.

***

“Draco?” Pansy asked, laying against some rock that held her up.

“A sharp piece of rubble fell on me when I was getting the first years out. Madame Pomfrey healed it but it’s slow-working.” She explained, motioning towards her shoulder. He put hands over his mouth, not quite believing it. She had been stabbed straight through the shoulder with a stupid piece of rubble. Her shoulder was bandaged but it had already bled through the bandage. He immediately got to work on fixing the bandage, not thinking twice. Pansy inhaled sharply but didn’t stop him, letting her best friend fix her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Pansy. You almost lost an arm.” He said when he was finished. Tears filled his eyes, sudden and unexpected. He let them fall to the ground, thinking of what he had done. “If I hadn’t let them into Hogwarts, Dumbledore would still be here. So would your arm. I’m so sorry.” He said, holding her hand but not looking her in the eyes. Who knew Draco Malfoy could have such human emotions?

“Draco, look at me.” She ordered, squeezing his hand. He looked at her piercing eyes, guilt in his own.

“This is anything but your fault. It’s the idiot who is a mass murderer and forced you to take that Dark Mark that is at fault.” She said, a sense of strength showing through.

“Alright, alright.” He said, patting her leg. He didn’t want to argue, even if he knew he should take some of the blame. Besides, even though he didn’t agree with it, Pansy’s speech helped calm him down.

“Now, go help the others. You didn’t read every single Healer book to be simply talking during this.” She lightly shoved him away, leaning back to find a comfortable position.

Draco nodded but didn’t head to where the others were. He headed outside instead, needing to know if the rumors were true. He needed to know if the man of his nightmares was gone for good. If he was gone for real this time.

***

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat on the ground, tears in each of their eyes. Harry, upon seeing Draco, stood up and turned towards him. However Draco took one look at the boy with emerald green eyes and rushed towards him, hugging him unceremoniously. Harry hugged him back, not sure what was happening.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Draco muttered over and over again. Harry hugged Draco back even tighter, knowing that when he gave Harry that wand, he had lost his family.

“Harry?” Ron said uncertainly, looking at the two boys. Draco let go of Harry, clearing his throat. He nodded to the two of them, feeling the weight of his emotions weighing his down once more. It was like a pressure on his chest, making him unable to breath right.

“Thank you.” Draco whispered to Harry one last time before heading back into the castle. He rarely ever did anything impulsive but it seemed like today was one where it was needed.

***

FIVE YEARS LATER...

Draco looked at the uncertain student at the door of the Hospital Wing, looking scared and nervous.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Draco kneeled down to the first year’s height, smiling lightly. It was still quite unusual to be smiling constantly, but he was getting used to it. He was trying, that was what mattered.

“Professor Weasley sent me.” The child said, big eyes looking at Draco. He smiled as he looked down at the kid’s limp, the smoke dropping as Draco surveyed the way he was walking.

“Oh! Yes, Quidditch.” Draco nodded and led the student to one of the beds, setting the foot up on his lap to move it around. He found it better to do that so he could figure out exactly where the foot was injured. He ran a quick diagnostics check after and found the student had a fracture in one of his bones. Well now he knew where.

“Did you trip?” Draco asked, glancing over at Madame Pomfrey working with another student. He was on his own with this one, his healer instincts taking over as he brought out his wand.

“Right over my broom. I fell on my foot but I still landed on the ground because of a sharp pain.” The student said, pointing at the right leg.

“All right, well I can fix it right up. But it may hurt a little, Okay?” He asked, looking at the kid directly.

“Alright.” The student nodded. Draco pointed his wand at the foot and muttered the spell under his breath, satisfied when he heard a small click. The student cried out in pain, surprised with how much it hurt. Madame Pomfrey looked over by soon got back to tending to the other student who had gotten bit by one of Professor Weasley’s animals in Care Of Magical Creatures.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurt. In fact, why don’t you rest until dinner? That way you don’t have to worry about the pain and you get to skip the rest of Professor Weasley’s class.” Draco winked, watching the kid nod with a small grin. Draco went over to Madame Pomfrey.

“I’ll talk to Professor Weasley.” He said under his breath, watching her nod. He always gave a stern talking-to to those who let their students they injured. Most times it was accidents, but it didn’t hurt to yell at them a little.

Draco walked out of the wing and headed outside, putting his wand in his pocket. He looked around, the trees a beautiful green and the grass reflecting the sun. It was incredibly peaceful.

“Weasley!” Draco yelled, catching the redhead’s attention. Ron stopped talking to Harry, looking at Draco with a small sigh.

“Look, the kid tripped! You can’t blame me for that.”

“Next time, keep a closer eye on the students.” Draco simply said, glaring at Ron. Draco may be shorter but he was still pretty intimidating when he needed to be.

“Hello Draco.” Harry said, smiling at the blonde.

“Hey Harry. How’s Defense Against the Dark Arts going?” Draco looked over at him with a smile. He hated getting kids from Harry’s class but was glad there were few to none.

“Great! Haven’t had too much trouble with anyone yet.”

“Probably cause they are all scared of you.” A voice said from behind Draco, sarcastic but familiar.

“Hello Hermione.” Draco looked at the bushy-haired woman, trying not to let his eyes travel down to the baby bump at her stomach. She had yelled at him last time just cause he glanced at it.

“Hey Draco, Ron, Harry.”

“Wait, what did you mean my students are scared of me?” Harry asked worriedly, kind of slow to the conversation.

“You’re the hero of the Wizarding World and shit, what do you expect?” She sassed back, hand on her hip.

“I never thought of that.” Harry looked aghast, running his hands through his already messy hair. Draco rolled his eyes, wondering how he could possibly not realize. It was his second year teaching already and yet he had no clue that he was that famous.

“I’m sure they’re not too afraid, don’t worry. I haven’t heard from any of them that you’re scary.” Draco tried to support without invoking the wrath of Hermione. Ever since she became pregnant, she was easily angered.

“Whatever. Anyway, Pansy wants to throw a Baby Shower for our baby. She keeps complaining that it isn’t gay enough so if everything is fucking rainbow when you get there, don’t blame me. Oh right, you guys are invited.” She said, glancing at each of them with a bored look. “It’s tomorrow night at 5, our house.” She finished before walking off. More like waddling off, but still.

“I’d be afraid to miss that Baby Shower.” Ron muttered, looking at his ex with a worried look in his eyes. Draco snorted, agreeing fully. Pansy wasn’t as scary but she could definitely get up there with her way with words. She could talk trash about you until you drop form just that.

“Well I’m sure your boyfriend would appreciate if you brought him along. He could be moral support.” Harry suggests, looking at his best friend.

“I wish. Viktor is practicing all this week with the big quidditch game coming up.” Ron sighed. Draco rolled his eyes, thinking he was acting a little pathetic here.

“Great, now I’ve got to figure out what to give her for the Baby Shower.” Draco grumbled, realization crossing his face. Ron shrugged, not really thinking about it. “Anyway, I’ve got to talk to the other Weasley.” Draco waved a little and headed towards the Care of Magical Creatures class area for Charlie.

“Hey, I’ll come with.” Harry said, catching up with Draco. They walked in silence for a moment but Harry interrupted it, blurting out a statement that made Draco stop.

“I know you saved Fred, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks.” Harry stopped too, looking down at Draco. Draco felt he guilt come back with a vengeance. Five years since it happened and Harry just now he figured out. It was a miracle really.

“I didn’t save them.” He muttered, not really wanting to talk about it. He saved them because they needed to be saved, it wasn’t some big deal. He had gotten everyone into the mess and he had gotten some of them out, even if they had scared and bruises.

“Yes, you did. Pansy saw what happened.” Harry said, taking a step closer.

“Well she doesn’t know what she ‘s talking about. I was merely doing my job.” Draco said, suddenly finding his feet very interesting. He didn’t want to talk about what happened in the war. He didn’t want to talk about the people he’d lost, the people he’d saved. He wanted to forget about it. However the nightmares never let the memories go, flashing with blood and the terror of the victims of the Dark Lord.

“Draco, Draco?” Harry asked, bringing him out of his daze. Draco’s head snapped up, his eyes a bit blurry.

“Sorry, Yeah?”

“I was thanking you.” Harry said, looking Draco in the eye. He gulped, not liking the direct eye contact,

“You don’t need to do that, Harry. I told you-“ Draco said, frowning.

“Yes, yes I do.” Harry interrupted. He moved forward, giving Draco a quickly peck on his lips Harry straightened back up, looking down at Draco. “Thanks Draco.” Harry simply said, scratching the back of his neck before moving back to talk talk with Ron.

“...okay then.” Draco said, standing there for a second. He looked over at Harry who had only moved a step away. Draco debates it for only a moment. He had been trying to be more impulsive and less calculative all year. So Draco stepped forward, grabbing Harry’s shoulder and turning him around, ignoring Harry’s surprise and kissing him fully on the lips, holding the back on Harry’s head. Harry kissed back after a moment, his hands on his waist. Draco’s hands slipped up to his hair, entangling his fingers in Harry’s lock’s.

“Get a room!” Hermione shouted from far away, making them break apart with surprise. “You owe me five galleons, Ron!” She shouted, making them groan and step apart, glaring at the two.

“Well then, that caught me off guard.” Harry said, raising his eyebrows. Draco smiler, a real true smile. He didn’t have to think about he smile, he just did it. And maybe that’s why Draco spoke without thinking, maybe that’s why Draco took a leap without thought.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

*Spoiler alert: he says yes.*

***

Bonus:

“And do you, Draco Malfoy, take Harry Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Mr. Weasley asked, reading out of his book. He was extremely fascinated by the way muggle did their weddings.

“I do.” Draco stated, looking into Harry’s emerald eyes. He’d never wanted to kiss Harry so bad. He was enraptured by his soon-to-be husband’s eyes to realize what Mr. Weasley was saying.

“Then you may kiss your groom.” He stayed, losing the book as Draco rushed forward, the kiss full of longing and hope. Harry laughed, breaking away from him. Harry cradled Draco’s face, so incredibly happy.

“I love you Mr. Draco Potter.” Harry said, giving him another kiss. Cheers and claps came from all around them but they didn’t care.

“I love you too.” Draco grinned before kissing Harry for the third time in the last couple of minutes, so excited to be this man’s husband.

#drarry #draco x harry #harry x draco #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #hermione x pansy #pansy x hermione #pansmione #viktor krum #wedding #healer #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #arthur weasley #weasley family #charlie weasley

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