#draco x pureblood!reader

[ravenclawgirlwriter]

Draco Malfoy x Pureblood Ravenclaw Reader

Here is my first post, a short story between Draco Malfoy and Pureblood Ravenclaw reader. Be kind, and enjoy :)

Plot: Ravenclaw reader just wants to focus on her studies at Hogwarts, but Draco seems to get interest with her during their interact in the stairs of Hogwarts.

Words: 1913 words

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Y/N Y/L/N comes from a pureblood family. Different from the major pureblood family, the Y/L/N are not obsess with the dark magic or believe in any kind of blood status topic. They rather focus on academic research and being the tops of different areas in the wizarding world. Most of them came from different houses in Hogwarts, but they are all smart and intelligent that nobody can deny.

They does not act same with other purebloods, but the Y/L/N still befriends with them due to their pureblood relationship.

Y/L/N do not have a large number of family member. It is just Mr. Y/L/N, Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N. Both adults work in the Ministry with a high position, while Y/N is a Ravenclaw studying in Hogwarts currently her fourth year.

In Hogwarts, Y/N is scrolling through the books in front of her in the library nearly reach curfew time. She is desperate to find out the research that she requires to finish her potions essays of six pages length given by Professor Snape at the morning class.

She just gather all the information needed only found out that it is already pass curfew time. She quickly gather her things and try to get back to the Ravenclaw common room without getting caught by any of the professor.

Her hands fill with books and quilts with parchment for the essay. Those things are heavy and many enough to block her vision to look in front clearly, she is short, and cannot change the fact that it will easily block her vision and she just get use to it.

At the stairs trying to wait for the it to lead her to the tower, she hear some walking sounds, but cannot see anyone in her sight. She is unsure of who it is, mostly will do with some professor night patrolling or some students sneaking out from their common room to have some fun. She didn't really care, but hopefully will not bump into anyone that might lead her to house points deduction or detention.

Books in her hand while walking up the stairs, she already feels tired by carrying all these books at once with some much weight she can hardly deal with. Suddenly out of her mind, she feel herself crash into something and fell to the ground from her back with things laying around her on the floor.

"Careful where you're walking, Y/L/N, try not to fall down the stairs and die," A familiar sound appears besides her, mocking her for not watching her steps.

Y/N quietly mumble, not focusing on whoever she crash with, feeling pain on her back when she fells down and hit the floor. She only notice the person when a pair of hands appear in her sight, still sitting and watching on the floor.

She raise up her head, a bit shock to found out that is Draco Malfoy that she bump into.

"You know I'm offering my hand to lift you up right? Quickly, Y/L/N, I'm not blaming you that you're too short to focus what's in front of you just now." Draco say, start to being inpatient of keeping his hand out.

"Oh," Y/N say, her hand reaching out to Draco and get up on her feet. "Sorry Malfoy, for being too short and accidently bump into you in the night. My apologies." She after bend down to collect her things on the floor, not bothering to look into Draco, who is now leading on the walls watching her picking up stuffs.

She is in a mess right now, but she didn't notice. Her short hair is messy, with her untidy robe and things on the floor. Draco wonder, how in the world can she be so mess right now, never realize about her appearance during daytime. "You truly are a mess right now." He say.

"Don't mind me," She brush her hair off from her face, keep things in her hand still for now, trying to get her steps back straight and steady this time. "If you excuse, I would like to head back to the Ravenclaw common room. And sorry for bumping you in, not intent to do it." Y/N is now facing Draco this time, looking into him, eye sight meeting each other.

Draco somehow feels weird, he don't know what to say, nor have the courage to look into her eye. They meet each other back when they are young, when still being childish as a kid. Both of them are from pureblood family, hence it is normal for them to meet before Hogwarts, when having pureblood meetings or parties.

The Malfoy and Y/L/N are good friends, despite having different views on pureblood matters. Their parents get along rather well, making both Draco and Y/N having meet up mostly at the Malfoy Mansion. Both of them didn't interact much when having their parents beside them, holding up whatever they need to be presentable to the other member.

In school, they are sorted into different houses and having different social groups, making them not interacting with each other. This night, can be count as their first few interactions personally without other people beside them.

"I'm heading back now, good night Malfoy, and sorry too." Y/N must have realize the weird situation they're in, she quickly drop a goodbye to Draco and went back to her room for a goodnight sleep. Draco snap back from his own mind and watch Y/N to walk upstairs for her dorm.

He found out that the short interaction between Y/N makes him feel good, a normal conversation is a good conversation to him. He enjoys the very little small talk from her just now, wondering when will they bump into each other again, having minds running off from his head while he's heading back to the dungeon.

A few days later, they meet each other again in the Great Hall having breakfast. Draco and his Slytherin group friends arrive there around 7:00am, preparing to have a quick Quidditch fun after breakfast and before morning classes. The hall occupied very few students since it is so early in the morning, only a few seventh year Hufflepuff students sitting at there doing their essays.

Draco is surprise that Y/N is already in the Ravenclaw table having meal alone this morning. She looks messier than the night they bump into each other, books surrounding her with a piece of bread in her hand and another hand with quilts writing on parchment. Her robe have wrinkles, looks like she didn't bother to make it neat.

He is sure that something is wrong with her, she usually holds up some much care with her appearance, wishing to take care of her name as a Y/L/N, or just a top young, brilliant witch in Hogwarts. She looks like dossing off whatever she's doing, because her hand doesn't hold high, looking downwards like she's asleep, with bread still in her hand.

"Draco! What are you watching, did you hear what I just say?" Asked Blaise Zabini, watching Draco watching at a direction, notice Y/N in the Ravenclaw table. "Y/L/N? Seriously why? You guys know each for so long, why the stares?"

"Doesn't the food keep yourself shut, Zabini? Don't care about it," Draco feels a bit embarrassed when his friend found out his stares at Y/N, turning back to have some breakfast at the Slytherin table.

"Blaise's not wrong, I do feel like, Y/L/N being off these days," Pansy Parkinson say when having some eggs in her mouth. Draco look at her with a weird expression, wondering why did Pansy even notice about Y/N in the first place, not like they are in the best condition.

Pansy know what's Draco thinking, "Y/L/N is clearly asleep right now, not that we used to see her sleep in the Great Hall, you fool."

Y/N sudden wake up, curious about her situation just know, not knowing that she have asleep when having breakfast. She just feel so stress on getting her essay done for more time doing research her parents assigned her a few days ago about wand making. She is tense on having O grades in all of her works when she received stress from her parents, telling her to not get unacceptable grades that may give up their Y/L/N name.

She always know that her family will aspect her to receive high grades, but one small mistake made that will lead her parents to disagree with her foolish mistake in such a small work. She rather give up her rest time to focus on her study to not disappoint her family.

After getting the food done, Y/N get things tidy up and leave the Great Hall to prepare her first class. Draco watching her leaving the hall while he's eating, making his friends laughing at him. "So obvious that you have something to do with Y/L/N," Blaise say, elbow hitting Draco under the table. His friends all laugh about it, nodding their heads in Blaise's statement.

"Stop it you all, I'm going to have a walk without y'all," Draco stands out and leave the hall as soon as he can, didn't have the courage to look at his friends, afraid their teasing or questioning about his thoughts on Y/N.

Y/N is at the end of the corridor, walking her way to the Charms classroom, which is having with the Slytherins. Draco see her way and call her, "Y/N!"

She feel curious in the front, hearing someone calling her. She turn back and found out it's Draco who's calling her at the entrance of the Great Hall, now running towards her. The corridors got some students walking towards the Great Hall for breakfast, still in sleepy mood, hence nobody care on the Malfoy boy running and calling someone in the early morning.

"Hi? May I know what can I help?" She say, when Draco reach in front of her. "No... I'm just wondering... Are you okay...? No, I mean, I saw you in the Ravenclaw table, sleeping? I guess, I..." Draco being confuse right now, why did he even call her out at the first place? He is so annoy by himself, for getting himself so speechless in front of her.

She smile, still having books in her hand, "Never mind Draco, if you don't mind me calling you like this." "Of course I don't mind!" Draco eyes wide slightly, he didn't mean to talk it out that loud and sudden.

"Alright, I'm just tired and all, just need some rest and everything will be good, thanks for your concern."

"I don't care, I just ask to solve my curiosity," Draco now being his usual self again, hope not to show anything of his thinking to her.

"No worries, do you want to walk with me to Charms classroom? We're having first class together," She say kindly.

And now Draco cannot hind his expression anymore, his face blush a little bit, Y/N barely notice due to his face not facing her. "Well, I'll walk with you there. No harm I guess, Y/N."

"Great. Now, we don't want to miss class standing here chatting." They eventually walk together, side by side. Y/N might not have any thoughts of it, but Draco is definitely having some feelings on her, nervous hand at his back while creating small talks with her, making her smile and laugh a bit.

At least that is what Draco is happy with, having a comfortable relationship with Y/N, things are ok to do slowly, rather than scarring her away from him. He wonder if he will got the chance to ask her out for Hogsmeade next weekend, or even dance with him during the Yule Ball after a few months.

In the Quidditch Pitch, a group of Slytherins are waiting for someone to appear. "Don't care about Draco right now, he's properly chasing after Y/L/N in the castle, not the snitch in the sky," Someone say and they nod accordingly saying nothing.

[the-halloween-jack]

One Little Difference ➳ Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!Pureblood!Reader

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader x Harry Potter  

Synopsis: Draco and Y/N had been friends as children; their families were of high status, and it looked like they would spend the rest of their lives together. But all of this changed when Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor and became estranged. Worst of all, she fraternised with the enemy. 

WARNINGS: There aren't any unless you consider silent pining bad. And angst, of course.

Words:  1,475

Masterlist

Draco knew he could never have her; his family would never allow it. Y/N was a blood traitor with her mud-blood friends and a lack of respect for her pure ancestry.

He yearned to return to the days of chasing each other through the old ornate manor, their laughter echoing through the tall chambers. They had always been close, attached at the hip. But as they grew and their parents bestowed their prejudice and hate upon them, Y/N rebelled whilst Draco conformed. 

This difference acted as the catalyst for the decay of their friendship.

She had never seen the world like they did; she gazed upon muggles and their innovations in wonder and awe. Draco tried pleading with her to understand the importance of her status but to no avail. Y/N was an embarrassment to her family’s name and a stain on their bloodline. It came as no surprise to anyone when she was sorted into Gryffindor. 

‘It’s better this way, Draco.' His father, Lucius, had said over an issue of The Daily Prophet one morning of his summer holidays, 

‘Her family, your mother and I had been discussing an arranged marriage once you were older. It is good Y/N's true colours were revealed before we could have made that mistake.’

Draco’s heart had sunk at his father’s words. Her true colours did not matter to him; he wanted her anyway.

As Draco sat alone in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express, he thought of how his life would be different if that wretched sorting hat had placed Y/N in Slytherin. He would not have to hide his reddening cheeks when she spoke and avert his eyes as she looked his way. He would be free to love and be with her, have children and grow old with her. 

It had been the longest Draco had gone without seeing her. In the last few years, domestic life had not been easy on Y/N; her parents finally kicked her out early in the summer. From what he had heard, she had stayed at the Weasley’s. He bet she had hated imposing herself on them. 

That was the worst part about her being in Gryffindor; in their first year, she very quickly became friends with people Draco considered his enemies: Harry, Ron and Hermione. There were many reasons why Draco did not like these three, though he was too proud to admit that the main reason was that he was bitter; they got to be her friend, to know and love her without pressure from their families. 

When he gazed out the window of the immobile train, he saw something that made his stomach contort in pain as though an unseen force was twisting his insides.

Her hands were intertwined with someone he hated more than anybody.

Harry Potter.

When had this happened? He thought they were only friends. Though the longer he watched them, the more the opposite seemed true. 

They were together; Harry and Y/N were in a relationship. 

As the aftershock of the pain he felt echoed hollowly in his stomach, he drew the blinds of the compartment shut; he could not bear to watch them any longer. But shutting them out had not been as easy as Draco had foreseen. Everywhere he looked, he saw her with him. In every corner of the castle, they stood, smiling at each other, holding hands and leaving small kisses on each other's cheeks. Draco saw them sit together in his classes, staring into each other's eyes in the great hall over meals. And though Draco tried not to let it bother him, he could not help but imagine himself in Harry’s place; she was supposed to be his.

It had been years since Draco could call Y/N his friend, and although he pined for her from a distance, he accepted that they were estranged. But the reality of her loving someone else rattled him to his core, and just like a spoiled child whose toy was being played with by another, he wanted her back, to snatch her from Harry’s arms and never return her. 

He needed to speak with her, beg her to see reason. Surely, all those days of laughter and fun as children would amount to something; surely, she would remember the person he used to be. 

He decided to speak with her after charms class; he noticed she was usually alone then, her friends heading to different lessons.

As Professor Flitwick called the end of their class, Draco watched as Y/N quickly collected her things and exited the classroom; he had to rush to put his belongings together and follow her. 

But by the time he left the room, she was halfway down the grand hallway. 

‘Y/N! Wait up!’ Draco could not remember the last time he spoke her name out loud; it felt strange on his tongue, as though it shocked him on its way out. She turned, skin creased between her brows, her face donning a bewildered expression. She, too, seemed shocked that he had called out for her,

‘Y/N, I need to speak with you; it’s important’ he pleaded,

With surprise still evident on her face, she opened her mouth to speak,

‘Draco, I don’t have the time, my next class is in ten…’ He grabbed her elbow and began pulling her to an empty classroom; despite her protest,

‘Draco… What are you…’ she trailed off, instead staring at him, eyebrows furrowed once more. Draco stood back and nervously scratched the nape of his neck, realising for the first time that he had no idea what he was going to say,

‘What is this about? I thought you didn’t talk to me anymore.’ 

Draco cringed, remembering how he had given her the cold shoulder in their first year. She had still wanted to be his friend, and he had pushed her away.

‘Look, I’ve noticed you’ve been a lot closer with Harry this year…’ Y/N's eyes sharpened, daring him to say more, 

‘And?…’ she spoke carefully, with a warning; she already knew where this was headed,

‘I just think that… that,’ his words cut short; he knew he was out of line and had no right to have an opinion on the matter. He took a different route.

‘I just can’t believe you chose to be friends with him, let alone partners; you could have picked anyone in this school, and you chose him.’ His words made Y/N gasp in shock, but he continued nonetheless, 

‘Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Did the fact I loved you mean nothing?’ 

Although Y/N looked angry, her eyes softened slightly,

‘Draco, did you ever stop for one moment and consider that this has nothing to do with you? You and I are not friends, Draco. You saw to that… I loved you once too, no, I loved a kind, sweet boy by the same name… but he died a long time ago, quelled by his very own father.’ Y/N's voice rose and trembled; Draco could see that talking about this upset her; once again, he felt the twisting pain in his chest. 

‘None of this would have happened, though, if you were sorted into Slytherin…’

He continued, but Y/N interrupted, 

‘But I wasn’t, was I? Don’t you see that our houses have nothing to do with this? You’re hiding behind them; you’re too scared to admit that we grew apart because you were a bad person.’ She took a deep breath,

‘Good people don’t bully and belittle first years and think people are lesser because of who their parents are. Good people don’t bully anyone; they’re kind and compassionate. And they’re selfless; not everything that they do is for themselves. And that is not who you are anymore.’

Draco could no longer see Y/N before him; she became shrouded by his tears, the truth of her words leaving him feeling winded, like blows to the stomach. Everything she had said was true. Of course it was; she had just unknowingly described herself. 

Kind, compassionate, selfless.

Y/N was a good person; she was the best person in his life. 

And he pushed her away because of one little difference.

As Draco stood in silence, unwilling to respond, Y/N’s frustration grew, 

‘You know what? Forget I said anything; you won’t change.’ She muttered, ‘I need to get to class.’

She pushed past him to get through the door, looking back as though she were going to speak again, but decided against it. She shook her head and left.

Draco did not try to speak with her again; he knew nothing he could say would change her mind because she was right. He was a bad person, and she deserved better than him. 

That is what she had with Harry Potter.

And as much as it killed him to watch, he could admit that.

[fantisyoflove]

So You Wanna Play With Magic (part 1)

You are in love with Harry but pureblood marriage rituals have your magic tied to Draco's. If you and Draco do not complete the marriage ritual you will both lose your magic forever.

WC: 1,809

Prelude:

During your time at Hogwarts you and Harry had ebbed and flowed together on occasion. Confiding in each other and sharing kisses under the clock tower. Having been born pureblood, into a family that sought to keep it that way, your parents were mortified when you were sorted into Hufflepuff and blamed your whole "phase" of hating them and disagreeing with the dark lord on the Hufflepuff 'softness'.

Now you and Harry continue to seek each other's comfort.

Harry was sleeping fitfully as a thunderstorm ragged outside. The rain pelted his windows and lightning flashed, lighting the room for a moment, before a crash of thunder could be heard.

---------------Now----------------

January 10th

The banging on his door is what truly roused him from an awful nightmare. He rushed downstairs in just his joggers, half wondering if this was Ron coming to tell him Hermione was in labor.

You stood outside, soaking from the rain, when Harry opened the door. It took all your remaining strength not to fall over completely.

He ushered you inside and then cast a drying spell over you before pulling you into his arms. His sleepy warmth reminds your body that you are freezing. While you are dry now your body shivers against Harry.

"What ha..."

You cut him off with a kiss. Pulling him in close. Kissing Harry always reminds you of flying. His lips are so soft and his hands push deep into your sides and then through your hair. He kisses with his whole body, mind, and soul. It leaves you breathless every time.

"One of those days?" he whispers into your ear before trailing kisses down your neck.

You can only hum in agreement as he begins to nip at your collar before pressing the flat of his tongue to the bite. He works from one side to the other.

Nip.

Lick.

Nip.

Lick.

Until you are shaking against him. Not only from his attention to you but from the shock from earlier.

You have been working as a curse breaker and it has gotten you into a few binds. You haven't seen Harry in a few months and a lot has happened.

He takes your hand and you both head to his room. He turns the light on as you enter the room and tries to pull you back in for a kiss.

"Wait.. can we.. um.. keep the lights off?" You asked a little embarrassed. You can't meet his eye.

"Oh, ah sure. Yea we can do that." He sounds confused but turns the lights back off.

You pull him close with a humph and start kissing him again. He pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it on the floor. You had kicked your shoes off at the door and now you tried to use your toes to push your socks off.

You tumble a bit into Harry's chest and you both fall onto the bed with a laugh.

"Easy now" he brushes you hair behind your ear and kisses you again before rolling you over and finishes taking off your socks and then your pants and underwear.

He kisses along your hips but then pauses as his lips come into contact with the unfamiliar feeling of a scar there, his pause is a hint too long. Making a mental note to ask you about that once your done he starts kissing you again. His hands start exploring higher along your body before he stops again coming to another thick scar on your side with one hand and another curving across your breast. His fingers follow that one from the side of your breast down along the under curve and stops above your sternum. Right over your heart.

Harry's wandless magic casts on the lights again.

"Y/n...." He breaths your name out and takes in the sight over the new marks on your body. His eyes searching and stinging with tears as his hands gently trace over each scar.

You grab his hands to stop their searching tracing. You cringe and turn away from him.

"Please just turn the lights off. I don't want to talk about it right now." You mutter.

The lights flick back off and you can turn your face back to Harry. He is still so quiet.

You let go of his hands and caress his cheek before pulling him back in for a kiss.

"Can we just do this right now?" You whisper against his lips. He hesitates but then nods and starts kissing you again with earnest. His fingers trail down to your center.

{}

Harry tried being serious with Ginny after the war but they both felt the flames dwindle to nothing while together. She found herself falling for a fellow teammate and Harry was glad to know if wasn't something he had done but rather something that neither of them could control.

In the years you have known each other it has always been nice to lose yourselves in each other. You can pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist while you are together. Never committing to one another but always being drawn together. You could be apart for days or years but it wouldn't change a thing.

Harry experimented with his sexuality after he and Ginny broke up. He figured out he fancied both men and women equally and he tried to establish actual relationships but people in the wizarding world treated him like the "savior" even years after the war. He couldn't go into a single establishment without someone bombarding him with questions or begging for pictures or autographs. He tried dating in the muggle world but found it hard to not use magic around them. Even if he stored his wand away he was increasingly skilled at wandless magic and would cast spells without even thinking about it.

Your work had you in hiding or gone for months on end and it never occured to either of you to try being exclusive together. But the casualness of your relationship worked. You didn't want anything serious and Harry seemed to be content with the sporadic visits. You didn't keep a permanent residence so when you were in England you would stay with Harry.

{}

You hum your bliss and pleasure as Harry's fingers ghost over your body tracing patterns into your skin. His thumb brushes over one of the scars on your hip in a silent reminder that he isn't going to let this go.

You sigh and reach for his hand. Pulling it close to trace along the scars with his fingers as you explain.

"During one of our raids on a place we believed would be hiding known Death Eaters I was tasked with going in first to disarm any traps or spells that lingered. It was my team of 6 and we had cleared most of the upstairs when Thomas tripped something. I jumped over him to stop whatever was coming. I guess the Death Eaters were getting desperate and creative since they used a muggle landmine. Parts of the shrapnel embedded in me here", you dragged his fingers down under your breast, "here", you pulled him over to touch the one on your side, "here", you let him feel along a particularly jagged one along your hip, "and here". You ended with laying his hand on your thigh. " I woke up in st. Mungos today and came straight here"

"Y/n" Harry started in his warning tone before sighing. He could chastise you about leaving the hospital too soon but it would be a waste of time since you never listen to him about things like that anyway. He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair before scratching at his neck. "Is Dean alright?"

"I think so. I didn't see him when I woke up and usually they try to keep us all in the same wing when something like this happens...." you trail off as you mentally start making a list of all the things you'll have to do when you go back to work. Shaking your head you snuggle closer to Harry. All that can wait until tomorrow.

*CRACK*

You jump out of bed Harry right behind you. Wordlessly both of your wands fly to your hands as you both make eye contact then ease out of the bedroom.

Something odd about Harry is he hates doors. Once he got his own place in the middle of downtown London he removed all the doors inside his house. He only put the bathroom door back on when you pointed out how awkward it would be since you are here so often. He also loves the constant noise from the city outside. The quiet is too much for him.

So as you creep down the hallway you can see most of the empty rooms from this angle. Harry gestures that he is going to check the living room and you nod to take the kitchen. Meeting back up in the dinning room you both lower your wands with a sigh.

"You heard that right?" He asks looking around skeptically.

You tuck your wand into your hair bun, "yea it sounded like someone apperating"

"That's what I was thinking. But the house is warded against people apperating inside..." Harry was cut off by a sharp knock on the door.

He glances between the door and you before waving his hand and mumbling a spell under his breath. Your clothes from earlier appear on your body and Harry's on his. You move behind the door to cover for Harry as he opens the door. Once more look at you then he slowly opens it.

Harry stands there shocked for a few moments before scowling, "Malfoy! What the bloody hell are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."

"Brilliant observation Ex- Auror Potter, now care to let me in?"

You try to peek through the crack in the door to see but you only catch a glimpse of Malfoy's signature form fitting black suit as he glances behind him to the empty street beyond. It is still pouring rain but Malfoy seems completely dry from what you can see.

"Actually I do mind Malfoy so if you could kindly get off my doorstep," Harry began as he started to close the door. Malfoy stuck his perfectly polished boot in the door frame stopping it from shutting completely.

"I know you have my wife in there Potter now step aside!" Malfoy snaps his fist hitting the door and he pushes his way inside. The door slips shut behind him and Harry is standing in front of you his hand tightens on his wand.

"What are you on about?" You snap.

"Hello darling." Draco sneers as he straightens his jacket and runs a hand through his perfect hair, ever the picture of perfection.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57418198#main

[whorecrux-of-slytherin]

Drastoria headcanon (halloween edition)

SUMMARY - Astoria convinces Draco to dress up as a couple.

(this can also be read as a y/n or oc pureblood but muggle tolerant reader x Draco if you don't like drastoria. Can also be read as a dramione headcanon but I've mentioned a small part about Astoria's family being pureblood and her fascination towards muggle traditions but you can ignore that)

I just feel that wizards wouldn't celebrate Halloween the muggle way. They might have a different sort of tradition. Draco coming from an especially pureblood supremacist family, would find muggle traditions foolish

He thinks it's foolish how muggles think of how a witch or wizard would dress or live. That their idea of a witch is either someone who is an introverted creepy / gothic person who lives alone in an abandoned house with a garden with overgrown grass or a person who has mythical ideas & collects stones, crystals and whatnot to make potions using dried flowers and spices and live in the woods. This perception of wizards angers Draco and is one of the reasons for his resentment towards them.

Astoria on the other hand is rather muggle friendly in spite of being brought up by a pureblood supremacist of a family. She finds it rather amusing of how muggles celebrate the same holiday but follow different traditions than the wizarding community.

Astoria is fascinated by the muggle idea of dressing up as characters or concepts for Halloween. So obviously when she learns that couples dress up together, she convinces Draco that they must dress up for Halloween that year (which was coming up soon).

Astoria plans a couple's costume idea that would suit both their personalities and their relationship. She decided on the theme of the Devil and Angel (Draco obviously being the devil and herself as the angel). She decided she'd wear a white dress & Draco could wear his signature black suit (because that way he'd complain less about participating in 'a stupid muggle tradition') and she'd charm a halo & wings for herself and set of horns for him to sell the look.

On the day of halloween, Draco keeps throwing a tantrum every few minutes about having participated in a muggle tradition; but doesn't complain much about his costume since he got to stay in his comfort zone- his signature all black suit apart from the horns that Astoria charmed for the evening. But he would constantly keep complimenting Astoria for her choice of dress and how beautiful & charming she looks in it; because to him, she's no less than a real life angel.

Astoria really enjoyed dressing up for Halloween that year & over the years they continued to do so and it kind of became their own little tradition much to Draco's dismay. They would have small dress -up parties even after they graduated with just their friends group. Draco would never admit this in his life but he enjoyed dressing up every halloween just because it was for Astoria.

(I used this pic as an inspo for their costumes. Actually this picture is what gave me the idea for this headcanon 😅😂.You can imagine him wearing a suit instead of the leather jacket . It's totally up to you 🤍)

Thanks for reading! 🤍

Also sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors, if there are any . Do comment down below about your thoughts about my headcanon 🤔💭

[saintsir4n]

HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY

[grandgreengrapes]

"Beware the darkness of dragons,

Beware the stalker of dreams, 

Beware the talons of power and fire,

Beware one who is not what she seems." - TUI T. SUTHERLAND

One does not choose to be born into Pureblood Society, they simply are. Edith was born into the Rowle name, but she was raised under Malfoy roof.

The events that occurred at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the years 1991 to 1998 are well known to you. Names like Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley will live on forever in history as heroes. There are sides to this story, however, that were never heard. Stories like that of a young Slytherin witch, perfect in all the ways she was, and weak in all the ways she wasn't.

It is time to start finding the heroes that fall through the cracks of history. After all, it is the smallest of dragons that are the quickest to strike.

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 7)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 4.5K

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, healing/blood and injury, Bellatrix's cursed knife, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N, character death

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. It's now October 31st, and the Order has a plan.

Narcissa Black Malfoy was many things. She was a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a wife, a new mother, a Malfoy, and a Black. She was a proud pureblood, a cunning Slytherin, a noble woman, a powerful witch, and exceedingly loyal.

It was this last trait that seemed to be causing her the most problems, however.

Loyalty. 

It was her loyalty that caused her to bite her tongue and smile when her husband announced that he had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord, who promised to bring the purebloods glory and to protect them from the likes of muggles and mudblood’s who were threatening their way of life. It was because of her loyalty that when her sister asked her to hide something of grave importance to the Dark Lord, even though the object exuded Darkness and Evil, she hid it in the rafters of their attic. 

And it was because of her loyalty that when her baby cousin showed up at Malfoy Manor covered in blood, ash, and rubble with a lifeless body hanging limp in his arms begging for her help that she responded with, ‘bring her to the cellar’. 

Narcissa needn’t wonder how she got here; she knew all too well. She was loyal, and she protected her own.

When exactly her disowned blood-traitor Gryffindor cousin’s muggle-born partner became one of her own, Narcissa wasn’t sure. 

(The day you ‘died’)

“What have you done!?” Narcissa gritted through her teeth as she pulled the clothing off of the nearly-dead-witch’s body.

“’Cissa, please, I couldn’t leave her there-”

“Why not!?”

“She’s – she’s Sirius’, she’s...” Regulus took a steadying breath. “She’s Sirius’, Narcissa.” 

“For crying out loud.” Narcissa growled. She wanted to argue, she wanted to scream and curse and tell him to dump this witch back where he’d found her. But she knew...

She knew she would have likely done the same. 

When her son Draco was born, Narcissa had never felt so alone; her mother was long passed, her father was distant and cold, Bellatrix was insane, and she had long ago lost her favourite sister.

She thought at that moment of Andromeda and her husband and daughter.

If this had been Ted Tonks lying nearly dead on a hastily conjured drafting table, or their daughter Nymphadora...

Narcissa knew; her dog-like loyalty and her dragon-like possessiveness knew no bounds. 

So, she pulled on all the blasted magic she could think of – light, dark, and ancient. Types of Oriental, coastal, Scandinavian and Aboriginal magic; anything and everything she could possibly think of to bring this witch back from the brink of death.

 Spending her life as a dedicated pureblood meant spending a lot of time hiding away in libraries – no one could scold you for it, and you could hide away from whatever nonsense they were currently shoving down your throat. She thanked the deities for all of that time spent researching now. 

Thoroughly exhausted and covered in another person’s blood, Narcissa stepped back as the witch finally took a breath on her own.

“Thank you, Narcissa.”

“Do not go thanking me yet, cousin.” Narcissa huffed. “What exactly is it you plan to do with her?”

Regulus stared dumbly at her. “Uhm...well, return her?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Right, and then the Dark Lord suspects a traitor amongst his followers and kills us all for the act of disloyalty. Really cousin, did you hit your head in this battle or something?”

“Well, what do you suggest I do then, Narcissa, since you are clearly so much smarter than I?” He questioned hotly.

“This is not my mess, Regulus. You should have left her there to die.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Narcissa asked incredulously.

“Why should she have to die? Hm? Because she was born into the wrong family? Does that make her evil? Fate does not make us evil, Narcissa; choices do. I did not choose to live as a pureblood, I was only born into this life. But I chose to follow the Dark Lord, and I chose to join this war. I choose to aim my wand at people who raise their wands in defense whilst I wield mine in hope for power and glory. So why her? Why should she die while I go home to eat from my silver spoon that was promised to me at birth?”

Narcissa balked at her cousin. “Regulus, what - what are you saying?”

But Regulus did not have a chance to respond before Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape and Barty Crouch Junior followed a small house-elf down the stairs into the cellar.

“My, my, don’t tell me you’ve plundered some booty for us, dear Reggie!” Barty exclaimed excitedly. 

“What, pray tell, is the meaning of this?” Snape asked as he eyed Regulus and Narcissa skeptically. 

“We were wondering where everyone got to – oh.” Mulciber added as he stepped down into the cellar with Goyle trailing behind him. 

“I found her at the set-up.” Regulus said plainly after throwing up a hasty occlusion behind his eyes.

“I see. And why exactly is she here.” Snape asked again. 

“Did you...heal her?” Lucius guffawed.

“Why waste your energy on a pathetic mudblood?” Mulciber asked.

Narcissa stayed quiet and allowed Regulus to swim his way out of this on his own. She would not risk her own life protecting his mistake.

But what made it a mistake?

Narcissa had never once questioned the pureblood rhetoric that her parents entrenched in her. Not when she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Not when she watched her classmates get bullied and harassed for their muddy blood. Not when it was announced she would be wed to her own cousin upon graduating from Hogwarts when she was only twelve years old, and not even when she was again announced to be wed to Lucius Malfoy instead at thirteen, after said cousin was sorted into the wrong house – bringing disgrace to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black; and not even when her older sister defected from the family by falling in love with a filthy mudblood. 

She looked at Regulus then. As the baby of the family, Regulus had seen all of this. He had witnessed the announcement of his big brother’s betrothal to his first cousin when Sirius was only ten years old. He saw the fallout and witnessed Sirius be ignored, embarrassed, and humiliated that first summer home after being sorted into the wrong house. He watched Sirius get tortured, brutalized, and starved every summer after that until he left home for good. He watched Andromeda be chastised and forced to choose between her family and her heart for falling in love with the wrong person. He watched Bellatrix descend into madness as she became more and more involved with Dark Magic.  

Regulus, the baby of the family, had witnessed all of this.

Narcissa thought of her own baby then, upstairs being looked after by a house-elf whilst she was downstairs with her husband and his house guests while they argued over who had more of a right to this unconscious witch’s body than the others. 

Did Regulus make a mistake?

Did she?

“Hmph, well, we’ll see how long this lasts.” Mulciber spat at Regulus before the five newcomers moved back upstairs leaving Narcissa alone with Regulus and the witch. 

Narcissa watched as Regulus used Legillimency to peer inside the witch’s mind before he spoke. “You’re awake.”

The only response Regulus got was the tightening of the witch’s eyes.

“Squeezing your eyes shut will not change the fact that I know you are awake.” He commented with an eyeroll.

Narcissa watched as Regulus continued to monitor the witch.

“Yes, I am talking to you.” Regulus responded verbally.

A beat of silence.

“Very elegant.” He muttered.

“Indeed, you are.” He quipped again.

Narcissa watched as you peeled your eyes open and blinked against the light above you; she heard your neck crack loudly as you turned your head towards Regulus before your face fell.

“You can’t be serious?” You rasped disbelievingly. 

“Close, but no.” Regulus smirked as he stood and moved toward the table you were lying on. “The name is Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black.”

Narcissa watched as a look of panic crossed your features as you took in Regulus.

“I don’t suppose you happen to know occlumency, do you?”

You shook your head in response.

“Shame. Well, for your sake, I hope you are a quick learner.” Regulus said before he stupefied you. 

“This just got an awful lot more complicated, Regulus.” Narcissa commented quietly.

“I know.” Regulus sighed before he turned to his cousin. “Narcissa, please, will you help me?”

Narcissa looked between her cousin – the only relative she really had left – and the unconscious witch beside him. Suddenly, the witch wasn’t just a nearly dead burden – she was a chance. An opportunity for more. An opportunity to do better. An opportunity to have better.

“I do not want this life for my son.” Narcissa admitted quietly.

“What?”

“I do not want Draco growing up worried about who he will be betrothed to before we even send him off to Hogwarts. I do not want him watching children be jinxed or hexed for being born to the wrong family – or worse – be the child jinxing or hexing them. I do not want to watch him slowly lose every single person that ever meant anything to him because they could not adhere to the same drivel. I do not want this life for him.” She took a deep breath.

“I want more for him, Regulus. I want better.”

Regulus searched Narcissa’s face for a few moments before nodding.

“Let’s do better, then.”

October 31st

“Okay, explain the plan to me one more time.” You muttered as you continued to pace a hole through Narcissa’s vintage Persian rug. Regulus fought the urge to groan and repeated the plan that Dumbledore had discussed with him for a third time.

“Remus Lupin has been made secret keeper of the currently vacant cottage in Godric’s Hollow. He, as Peter Pettigrew, will meet the Dark Lord in the town square of Godric’s Hollow at eight o’clock tonight. He will then escort the Dark Lord to Potter’s cottage where I will be in the form of James Potter and Narcissa in the form of Lily Potter. Apparently, to no one’s surprise, Sirius has demanded he be there – so Sirius will be there in his animagus form as will Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore will be hidden under Potter’s invisibility cloak. Dumbledore has the sword of Gryffindor, and Narcissa was able to purchase Basilisk venom from Borgin & Burkes on Knockturn Alley, which means the Order will be able to slay Nagini without resorting to unforgiveables. I, however, will have no qualms firing an avada at the Dark Lord, so we will see how the rest plays out. Either way, he will die.” Regulus spouted in monotone.

You seemed to consider this as you continued pacing. “And I...”

“And you are staying here.” He said with finality.

“Why?” You asked petulantly. Regulus did not find it at all endearing.

“Because you have to look after Draco.” Narcissa offered.

You softened at the mention of the boy but seemed unconvinced. “You have a manor full of house-elves; I’m sure Dobby wouldn’t mind-”

“It has to be you, Y/N.” Narcissa said. “It needs to be someone who will not be swayed, regardless of who shows up and starts barking orders.”

Your head fell back in resignation as you looked at the ceiling. 

“Okay?” Regulus asked quietly.

“Okay.” You admitted in defeat, bringing your gaze back to him.

Regulus offered you as kind a smile as the youngest Black and a chronic Slytherin could manage. “Your nose is bleeding again.”

“God damnit.” You muttered as you conjured a tissue into your hand and held it to your nose. More and more of your memories were flooding back in, and - just as the Healer had suggested - it was extremely painful. Not only were you now privy to migraines, nose bleeds, and the occasional seizure; you had an overwhelming sense of anxiety laying its damned wet blanket over you. You were somewhat annoyed that your memories appeared to be attacking you now when you would have benefitted from not remembering all of the reasons why this plan had to go just right.  

“Why did it have to be Halloween?” You muttered miserably.

“Why did it have to be Halloween?” James whined. “I love Halloween.”

Lily patted her husband’s shoulder in sympathy, though neither her face nor her tone held any warmth. “You can love Halloween next year.” 

James and Lily stood in the doorway of 12 Grimmauld place with Harry strapped to James’ chest. Sirius triple checked their bags before shrinking them down and putting them into a backpack and placing it onto Lily’s shoulders. 

“Okay, explain the plan to me one more time.” He ordered the Potter’s. 

Lily and James shared a quick glance before the former rolled her eyes. 

“We’re heading to an undisclosed location. We are to set up protection wards the second we get there, and we are not to leave until Sirius’ patronus reaches us. If, in the event that we do not receive a patronus from Sirius or Moony in the next two days, we are to assume that the plan has failed. In that case, we are to begin heading west via muggle transportation and make our way to Ireland before boarding a flight to Canada where we are to remain for the rest of our lives.” She relayed to him in monotone. 

Sirius beamed at her and kissed her cheek. “Right-o, Red! But, not to worry, you’ll be hearing from my patronus in no time.”

Remus watched with a small smile from the staircase. He knew Sirius was trying to stay positive mostly for himself; he’s been in such a state since you were taken, and he was running on fumes waiting with bated breath for this to be over so you could return home - return to him. He had so many questions about so many things; questions for you, questions for Regulus, questions for Dumbledore. Remus watched his friend become manic, almost as if Sirius was the one expecting the full moon at the beginning of next week. The friends tried to stay patient with him, but they were all looking forward to this being over.

“It’s me and my family they’re after, I should be here to end this.” James muttered. 

“And you’re our family, Prongs. So, we’re here to end this.” Sirius responded.

“He didn’t just threaten you and Lily and Haz, he threatened all of us.” Remus added.

“I owe her my life, guys. I owe it to Vix to see this through.” He responded, shifting his gaze between his two friends.

Sirius’ eyes welled at the thought before he quickly shoved his feelings back down into his stomach – he’d deal with those later; for now, he had a megalomaniac to kill. 

“You’ll have the rest of your life to make it up to her, Prongs.” He offered with as much a smile as he could muster. 

James gave his friend a sad smile of his own before enveloping him in a bone crushing hug.

“I’ll see you soon, Pads.”

“Once the mischief is managed.” Sirius answered.

As Lily, James and Harry left Grimmauld place and apparated to location unknown, Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

“Ready to finish this?” Sirius asked Remus.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

The clock tower in Godric’s Hollow’s town square rang signifying eight o’clock. Remus tried rubbing his clammy hands against his cloak, not wanting his hands to be slick when it came time to brandish his wand. Thankfully, with the full moon this close, and it (by the grace of every god) seeming to be a ‘manic moon’, Remus was at his strongest, and he would not be letting that go to waste. 

The rancid smell of dark magic permeated Remus’ senses signifying the arrival of Voldemort and his last horcrux.

“My dear boy,” Voldemort sang out, “are you ready to face victory in the name of your Lord.”

“Absolutely, my Lord, it is my honour to help you see this through.” He responded verbatim to what Dumbledore coached him on. 

“Lead the way.”

So, Remus did. 

In what felt like a death march, Remus (as Peter Pettigrew), a twelve-foot snake and melted-wax figure looking Tom Riddle made their way to the Potter’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow. Remus listened to the sound of his heartbeat and Nagini’s skin sliding along the gravel lane as he unlatched the hook of the fence and made his way up to the door.

He looked behind him to see Voldemort smiling victoriously at the house as it materialized in front of him. Remus turned back to the red painted door and knocked three times, paused, knocked once, paused, knocked twice more.

“Come in!” The sound of Lily’s voice filtered through the wood of the door and Remus heaved a breath before opening it in front of him. 

“Hey Pete!” James greeted as Remus stepped inside. “We just put the kid to bed, glad you could come by.” 

Remus watched as James turned his back to the door and continued toward the kitchen whilst Voldemort and Nagini let themselves in. With a quick flick of Remus’ wand, the door shut and locked behind them. No way out now, fucker.

“Come on in, Peter! I’m just making something to drink, would you like one?” Lily called from somewhere in the house as the trio continued in, watching as a cat wandered its way towards the kitchen seemingly unawares of the company behind it.

As they passed a hallway leading to a half-bath, Padfoot began to bark.

“Oh, come now Pads, it’s just Peter! You know him.” James said as he came back out into the hallway where he saw his good friend Peter in the company of Nagini and Voldemort.

Voldemort whispered something in parseltongue and in response, Nagini poised to lunge. 

When the snakes body elongated and her neck stretched as she launched to sink her fangs into James, Sirius had turned back into his regular form, and with the sword of Gryffindor swung at the snake, severing its head from the rest of its body; the snake’s body and its head fell to the ground with a sickening wet thud.

“No!” Voldemort cried before Dumbledore ripped the invisibility cloak from his form and Lily exited the kitchen. Suddenly, the forms of Lily, James and Peter and the actual Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sirius stood with their wands aimed at Voldemort. 

“What have you done?” Voldemort seethed at Remus. Remus smirked in response.

“I won.” He said simply.

Voldemort growled as he pulled his wand from his cloak, blocking an expelliarmus from Dumbledore and a bombarda from Sirius. 

“Incarcerous!” McGonagall shouted and Voldemort was bound by invisible restraints.

Dumbledore stupefied the flailing Tom Riddle and the six exchanged glances. 

“Did...did we do it? Did we just...stop Voldemort?” Sirius whispered.

“It feels sort of anti-climactic, does it not?” Lily asked before she cast a quick finite over herself, revealing Narcissa Black. Remus opted to follow suit and shed the skin of his rat of a friend.

“Narcissa?!” Sirius balked, earning him a smirk.

“Hello, cousin.”

“But, why? How?” he asked.

James followed suit and cast a finite, melting away the enchantment and leaving behind the form of Regulus Black, causing Sirius to choke back tears.

“Reggie...” he whispered reverently.

“Sirius.” Regulus responded with a curt nod, seemingly unable to meet his brothers’ eyes.

A sob tore its way through Sirius as he lunged himself at Regulus and embraced his little brother. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“Disappointed?” Regulus asked, seemingly unable to figure out what to do with his own arms which were pinned under Sirius’ grasp. 

“No, not in the slightest.” Sirius answered honestly as he pulled himself back from his brother only to bring his hands up to clasp either side of his brother’s face and scrutinize him. “You’re really okay?”

Regulus’ brows scrunched together at his brother’s words. “Could be worse.” Regulus responded in a whisper. 

“Why don’t we catch up later, once we have everyone together again?” Narcissa offered with a soft smile. This seemed to snap Sirius into action.

“Yes! Okay, yes. Let’s go get Y/N and then we can send the Potter’s a patronus!” He exclaimed as if were a child being told they were heading to the mall to meet Santa. 

Remus chuckled and even Regulus seemed to smirk at his brother. 

“You go, Minerva and I will escort Mr. Riddle here to the Ministry.” Dumbledore said with a wink at his four former students. “Thank you all, for your bravery and cunningness today.” 

The four offered Dumbledore varying levels of smiles: Remus a wide one, Narcissa a polite one, Regulus’ looked more like a grimace and Sirius’ mouth stayed downturned as they watched the headmaster and deputy headmistress leave with Voldemort in tow. 

“Let’s get the band back together.” Remus announced, and Narcissa held out a portkey for Remus and Sirius to use to travel to Malfoy Manor.

“See you there.” Narcissa said as she and Regulus spun and apparated to return to you. 

Regulus and Narcissa were just heading toward the vine covered gate when Remus and Sirius fell unceremoniously from the sky. 

“Fuck, I hate portkey’s” Sirius commented as he stood with a grimace and wiped grass stains off his jacket. 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Narcissa commented from her place as the two men joined her.

“That’s like asking a fish not to swim, dear Cissy.” Sirius responded with a smirk.

Narcissa gave him a fond eyeroll before leading the way to the hidden library.

“PUT THE BOY DOWN!” The shrill voice of Bellatrix could be heard. The sound caused each of their throats to tighten as they all took off in a run towards the library.

“Get away from us!” Sirius heard you shout back. 

As the four of them rounded the corner, Sirius saw you standing with a crying Draco Malfoy in your one arm as you bounced him consolingly while your wand was in the other aimed at Bellatrix in front of you. Behind Bellatrix stood Barty Crouch Junior and Mulciber. 

“Bella!” Narcissa called causing the witch to turn her onyx gaze on her for a second, though her wand never faltered in its aim at you.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, NARCISSA?!” She screeched. 

“Bellatrix, get away from my son this instant.” Narcissa barked. Remus took this opportunity to try to move closer to you and Draco, which earned a purple spell being shot at him from Junior’s wand.

Suddenly emersed in some kind of gothic-style Western standoff, every witch and wizard in the library had their wands pointed at someone and someone’s wand pointed at them. One errant sneeze and someone would avada or be avada’d. 

“Bella, you’re frightening Draco.” Narcissa tried quietly.

“He’s frightened, Cissa, because you’ve left him alone with the likes of a FILTHY MUDBLOOD.” 

“It’s over, Bellatrix.” Sirius shouted. “Voldemort has been captured, he’s on his way to Azkaban as we speak.”

Bellatrix’s already rage filled face contorted in pure outrage. As the Death Eaters were distracted by the news of their leaders down fall, Regulus and Remus began duelling with Mulciber and Junior. Narcissa and Sirius both shot curses and hexes at Bellatrix at the same time, but she quickly defected.

“You, you-you FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR. You’ve betrayed your kind and defied OUR LORD, YOU INSOLENT-” As Bellatrix continued to rage, you began to slowly side-step your way over to Narcissa and Sirius while cooing at Draco. Sirius kept his gaze locked on you as you kept yours on Bellatrix, and both of your wands stayed on their mark. Remus had Mulciber in a muggle choke hold looking far too pleased with himself as Regulus cast an expeliarmus at Junior.

“YOU SHOULD BE DEAD! I KNEW BETTER THAN TO LET THOSE STUPID, STUPID MEN USE YOU AS THEIR PLAYTHING.” Bellatrix seethed at you, now standing directly beside Sirius, keeping the arm holding Draco just behind him. “YOU WEREN’T EVEN GOOD ENOUGH FOR A WHORE!”

At this, Sirius shot a curse at her which she deflected and began rallying more off. Bellatrix brought her other hand up to her hair and then swung her hand forward. Flying towards Sirius, you and Draco was Bellatrix’s cursed blade.

Narcissa took but half a step to her right, placing herself directly in front of you as she cast an avada kadavra at her sister. Bellatrix’s eyes rolled back as she fell to the ground with a thud and the room became deathly quiet save Draco’s sniffles. 

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed.

Remus and Regulus were readying their captives for the Auror department as Sirius turned to face his cousin, only to find her holding her chest as blood seeped through her robes and fingers.

Narcissa slowly began sinking to the ground as you gasped and held Draco’s head to your shoulder to shield his view.

“Cissa, no!” Sirius cried as he helped lower his cousin onto the rug. Narcissa took some gasping breaths as she looked at Sirius and you, and then at her son. 

“Y/N.” Narcissa called weakly.

“I’m here, Narcissa.” You offered through a sob. 

“Take care of my son. Take care of Draco, please.” She begged you.

She turned her gaze to Sirius. “I want better for him. I don’t-I don’t want...” She trailed off as she choked, blood appearing in the corners of her mouth. “I don’t want him to be raised with so much hate. I want – I want him to only know love.”

She looked back to you as you bounced her son back and forth. “Make sure he knows love for me?”

You nodded emphatically as tears trailed down your face. “I promise to do good by you; both of you. He will always be safe with us, Narcissa.”

“And loved.” Sirius added. 

Narcissa smiled at the two of you. “Thank you.” She said as she closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. 

Narcissa Black Malfoy was many things. She was a daughter, a sister, and a cousin. She was a wife, and new mother. She was a Slytherin, a noble woman, and a powerful witch.

Narcissa Black Malfoy was extremely loyal. And it was this last trait that cost Narcissa her life. 

Continue to the finale here.

[myers-meadow]

Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader: That which isn't taught in books

Title: That which isn't taught in books

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x female librarian reader

Summary: Draco complains about you, the Hogwarts librarian, to his father. This results in the beautiful Lucius Malfoy paying you an unexpected visit. He is rather taken with you, and he shows you things you can't simply learn from books: your place.

Warnings: smut, blowjob, cum, spit, vaginal fingering, degradation, rough kissing, use of 'slut', praise, gloves, Lucius is Lucius and a that's a warning on it's own, consent isn't discussed but reader is into it, manhandling, (suspected) cheating, hair pulling (assumed reader has hair that can be pulled).

Wordcount: 3699

Dividers by by animated-glitter-graphics-n-more and delishlydelightfuldividers.

“Miss __, you must to lend me this book. I need it for class.” Draco Malfoy ordered, pointing to the book on top of the stack on your right.  Third years aren’t typically allowed to borrow advanced books on dark magic, so it wasn’t on the shelves for him to take with a reason.

“No,” you simply replied, removing book from the stack and sending it to the topmost shelf with a wave of your wand. “That’s a restricted book and you need a permission slip from the headmaster before borrowing it.”

Draco scoffed. “I know you let Granger use the library outside the allowed hours.”

How could the damned kid know about that? What a menace.

“The book is still restricted.”

“Do you know who my family is?” Draco said, tapping the desk impatiently.

“Yes, I know your parents quite well. We are old friends, in fact,” you said, which was a lie. The Malfoys are well-known, and you’ve run into them before. Unpleasant was the best word for it, and you were glad the moment you didn’t have to deal with them anymore. Narcissa was alright, perfectly poised and therefore polite – but still raised rich and pureblood. Lucius, on the other hand, gave you nightmares that night. Even worse that you woke up wet between your thighs.

Draco scoffed, sending you a nasty look. “We will see about that, miss __.”

You sighed as he turned around and marched away.

It was later that week that the Hogwarts library had a surprise visit from a tall, white-haired man that reminded you so very much of the pest that was Draco Malfoy.

“So this is where the students are expected to borrow their books from,” said the cold voice, heavy with poorly veiled contempt. “Hogwarts seems to spend their funds… otherwise.”

“Good evening, sir,” you started, tone flat. “Have you come here to take a look around? I assure you our collection is larger than it seems here at the front desk.”

He raised an eyebrow, only now looking at you. “Miss __,” and even that alone sounds like he chastised you, “I’ve come here because of what my son told me of your behaviour. You pick on him and single him out, while the rest of the students are allowed to break school rules at will.”

Your shoulders tensed. So he was really here because of that small ordeal. And above all, it pissed you off that he didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself properly. Of course you knew who he was, but that he expected you to still remember him was infuriating.

“I see. Then you should be pleased to know that I don’t allow any student to break the rules, which includes your son. I do not play favourites.”

An amused smile played at the corner of his lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.” Your tone remained flat. Despite that, it was difficult not to let your eyes wander. Gods, did he dress up this fancy just to give you a stern talking to? He was delicious. With the snake tie pin mirroring the glittering of his cold gaze, the full three piece suit that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral, and the leather gloves he wore even though he had to cross half the castle to get here.

You continued, taking a deep breath to steel yourself – he noticed, his gaze flickering to your chest. “You may be under the impression, Mr. Malfoy, that professors of this school are easily pressured by empty threats, to give your son a leniency that I refuse to show him. This visit won’t change that, so I’d suggest you save yourself the time.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you past his nose. You were glad for the library desk separating the two of you, or you’d back away from him like a scared animal.

“I do not appreciate your tone,” he said, each word perfectly measured, low and menacing. Your adrenaline spiked, and your knees trembled. He leaned forward, and you fought the urge to take a step back. Even just that thought, of backing of, of yielding to him, he must’ve seen it cross your face, and smirked in response, clearly enjoying the hold he had on you.

A group of Hufflepuffs entered the library, giggling to themselves, until they saw the standoff you were in. “Let’s just come again later,” one suggested, and they left quickly, whispering to each other. You nodded at them, and moved your gaze back to the imposing man in front of you. From this close, you could smell the perfume he wore. Something warm like sandalwood mixed with citrus. Fuck, he was insanely attractive. Touching him would feel like the most luxurious velvet.

“I suggest,” he leaned in even closer over the desk, you felt the warmth of his breath fan your face, “that from now on, you make sure you assist in Draco’s education and let him borrow whatever books he wants.”

“If he has the right permission slip from the headmaster, Draco can borrow any book he likes. Without it, he can’t.” You could barely focus on his words with how close he was. “If you knew the book in question, you’d agree with my approach and be glad that I didn’t have a conversation about Draco’s interest of late.”

“And what book may that be, miss?”

“Forbidden hexes and curses. And he’s practiced some too, already. One may think he’s… a bit too interested in the Dark Arts.” You clacked your tongue and pushed yourself off of the desk, trying to clear your head. “It wasn’t a beginner’s book either.”

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere more… private.”

His velvety voice made your insides flip in nervous anticipation, which you attempted to calm with little success. So, that approached worked. The value purebloods place on image was such an easy win, but it felt good to hear his tone soften.

“My office is there.”

He moved around the desk and went first, waiting for you to move around him and open the door for him. Once inside, he shut and locked the door, and with a quick wave of his wand, the blinds shut themselves. His small smirk as he looked at you then was nothing short of predatory.

“Draco told me so much about you,” his voice was even more hypnotising than before, and he knew the effect he had on you as you breathed in sharply. He walked around you slowly, taking you in completely. Surely this was another intimidation technique of his, so you force yourself to stand your ground.

“He has?” you echo, not seeing the point of it, but wanting to delay the threats and the fight – and that deliciously wrong feeling of anticipation was building steadily inside your lower belly.

“The librarian,” his voice was smooth as silk, “who is so attractive that it keeps the students from their studies. A Slytherin, but surprisingly, you don’t know who or what is good for you.”

It sounds like he’s insulting you again. He stood still right in front of you, a finger coming to rest on your cheek. The contempt has returned to his expression, along with something else.

“You dress… well. Draco said you looked inappropriate, but he is just a boy. He gets silly ideas too quickly.” Lucius’ voice has softened considerably. The way you looked up at him made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to fight, flight or fawn – and the result is that you did nothing.

“Your concern for my appearance is noted, sir,” you managed to say. “Is that why you really came all this way? To make sure your son’s librarian dresses appropriately?”

A small chuckle broke the silence. “I must admit, you are more alluring than he said you were. Perhaps we can solve this disagreement in a more pleasurable manner. If you can learn your place, that is.”

You stared at him. The gloved finger tapping your cheek moved to your lips, slipping between them. The smell of the leather was strong and made your head swim.

“Or should I make it clearer for you? On your knees.” His condescending tone was unlike anything you’ve heard before: alluring, yet cruel. The velvet softness of his voice contrasted with the way he looked down at you past his nose. Such a regal face…

When you didn’t immediately obey, he pushed you down by your shoulders. The floor was cold even through the fabric of your skirt. The tip of his cane tapped your cheek lightly, but it was threat enough.

You gulped. Looking up at him from this angle was a sight to see, his amused expression, the smell of him, the texture of his glove in your hair were as intimidating as they were arousing.

“What’s the matter? I’m sure a big girl like you knows what to do.” His leather clad hand tugged open his belt and ripped open the buttons without a second of hesitation. His eyes glinted darkly with lust. Only when he tugged his cock free from his underwear, did you look away from his eyes. He was gorgeous, pulsing, rigid, the head flushed with blood, with just one teardrop of precum at the slit. Doubting your actions, you reached a hand up to grip him. Warm. Thick, too.

“Are you just going to sit there? Open.”

You obeyed, instinctively, and he groaned lowly as he slid his cock in your waiting mouth. Wetting the underside of his cock with your tongue, you teased the bit of skin just under the head, making it bounce against the roof of your mouth. His breaths came sharply, slowly turning to soft sounds of pleasure. He slid in and out as you sucked him, moving your lips along his shaft. Clearly he held back in showing just how good you made him feel – and your determination grew. You teased the head with vigour, and before you could settle on a rhythm, he forced himself in deep. Gagging and trying to swallow around him, he groaned, and the sound went straight to your core. Shifting your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache wasn’t close to enough. Lucius set a punishing pace for himself, deep and fast. In and out, and his length grew wetter and wetter with saliva and precum.

“What a pretty girl you are,” praised Lucius, in between hissed breaths and stifled groans. He held your head back by the hair then, and pulled your lips from his cock.

“You were made for this. Know just how to please your superior.”

A cruel gleam shone in his eye as he looked down on you, and he rubbed his cock over your face, coating it in your spit. His words rang true in a way that made you whimper pathetically. The humiliation burned. You broke out in a heated sweat, but the terrible empty throbbing of your cunt was enough for you to stay put. He pulls your head back on his cock, immediately pushing into your throat again.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans. The satisfied sadism in his expression has you dripping. “What great things even you can accomplish if you receive the right guidance.”

His ‘guidance’ came in the form of an insistent hand fisted in your hair as he fucked your face, without any care for your comfort. Now that his length was wet and slimy, it went in easier, but it still made you gag. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks, wanting to prove to him how good you could be. A small part of you, at the back of your mind, was disgusted by your actions and more so by how easily Lucius exploited your submissive streak. Yet, when you glanced up and saw the pleasure etched into his face, that voice quieted down. He looked sinfully good from this angle, and you enjoyed it through tearful eyes as he pushed at your gag reflex once again. In, out, slower, feeling the drag of your tongue on the underside of his cock, and moaning filth behind clenched teeth. Then, having enough of your tongue, his pace increased, pushing into your deeper and without mercy.

Eventually he let out a satisfied groan, and he pulled out from your mouth, drool spilling onto your blouse, and he stroked himself to completion, groaning harshly as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face. You gasped at how unexpected of and end it was, face burning at how degrading it was to sit there and take it, stunned at the audacity of this man. It may be true that you craved this from the moment you first met him, but that didn’t change that it made you feel both disgusting and desired like nothing else could.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, filthy girl?” His gloved hand twisted in your hair, angling your face so he could admire you. “You will leave this as it is. Merlin, you enjoy this, don’t you? Made such a mess of yourself. Filthy fucking slut.”

His words came through gritted teeth, and you feel the strength he’s holding back as he forced you to stand by your hair. You yelped. The cum left a nasty pulling sensation on the skin as it started to dry. You felt used, so used, and his disgust showed clearly on his face. Nevertheless, he pulled you close, forcing your head to his and he kissed you, with open mouth against your cum covered lips. Without a care that his cum smeared his face as well as yours, and the bitter aftertaste that it left in his mouth, he devoured you hungrily.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough. You obeyed. The moan he let out as he pressed his lips to yours again was the most lewd sound you’d ever heard. Your tongues entwined, the taste of his seed mingling with saliva. It was gross, but in the best way. You made him like this, was the thought that shot through your mind, you made him gross and lose control. And you did all of that just by being you.

Teeth clashed and you winced, but he barely seemed to notice. He was so rough, so uncoordinated, yet it was the hottest thing you ever felt. Spirals and sparks of heat radiated in your belly. The hand in your hair let go, to great relief, and wrapped around your throat instead. The kiss grew fiercer still. He consumed you. All of you. His teeth tugged at your lips, nipping harshly enough for small stings of pain, but they were soothed over with the warmth of his tongue. His nose pressed against your face with how far he leant into you, how harshly he pulled your face against his.

This hunger was a world away from his earlier disgust.

When he let go, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, passionate and heated. He wiped the cum from his nose and lips, and licked it from his gloved fingers. Your eyes fluttered just at the sight of him. And it was you who caused this, who brought out this side of him, all dishevelled, messy, stained… All for you.

“It seems you do know your place well, dear librarian. How about a reward, then? Do you think you deserve one?”

All you could do was nod.

He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk, and he lifted you up until you were seated. “Legs wide. Good girl.” He spread your thighs as he stood between them. His gloved fingers dragged over the sensitive skin of your innermost thigh. You were positively throbbing. Have you ever felt arousal this strong while completely untouched? You hated him for it.

“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” you whimpered, already growing impatient.

Tugging at the cotton of your panties, he said, not a question, but an order: “Why don’t you take those off for me.”

You stumbled to comply. Before you could say anything, he silenced you by sliding two fingers in your mouth, and you wet them without being prompted to. The leather tasted like his cum, bitter. The texture was pleasant on your tongue. He hummed, pleased, as he slid his fingers out.

“Who knew you’d be such a quick student? But then again, they do say librarians have a wide variety of knowledge.” And his finger found your clit. “How’s that?”

You whined sharply as he increased the pressure, but didn’t move his fingers, still depriving me of the friction I craved.

“Or rather here?” and he slid his fingers to your slit, dipping in, before moving back up, bringing the slick with them. “Aren’t you a wet little slut.”

His middle finger slid in to the knuckle, with embarrassing ease. You moaned softly, brow furrowing. It felt right. So right. So perfect. This is what you were made for, for such a feeling, of being filled, of being used by a man as beautiful as Lucius Malfoy. Your eyes locked and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his stare.

“What a sensitive young woman you are,” he said, voice soft, yet with a darkness to it. “No one’s touched you this good before. And no one will, after.”

He pulled his finger almost out, then pushed it back in, setting himself a slow and deep rhythm, curling it deep inside. Each time he hit that spot inside, your gasps and moans became a little higher, a little more desperate. You clung onto his shoulders, and he leaned so close your noses touched.

“You look quite beautiful like this… Who knew it would be this fun to put a librarian in her place?” it almost seemed he talked to himself moreso than to you. One finger became two, but his pace remained the same. Steady, in, out, in, curling, out. The drag of his gloves made it even better, and when you looked down, they were wet and creamy from how wet you were. You whimpered as he followed your line of sight, and slammed back in harder. And harder. Now that his pace was steadily increasing, so were the sensations, growing hotter quick. He tipped you over the edge and you nearly screeched – but he kept going, the orgasm prolonging itself until you reached a second high, so high it was painful - and he moaned along with you, slowing but not pulling out. When he finally stilled, both of your breaths were sharp, as though you’d just ran up five flights of stairs. He kissed you again, messily, as he pumped in and out just a few more times, enjoying the twitches of your aftershocks.

“What a good girl,” he purred, and he pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was jarring and you clenched around nothing. His fingers slipped past your lips, and you sucked them clean obediently. “What a good girl,” he repeated, with emphasis and a fond undertone. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Even after coming down from the orgasm, the hazy feeling stayed, making your head swim as you looked at the man in front of you. He kissed you again, and it was borderline uncomfortable with the drying cum still on your face. He was softer, a wet kiss, he was savouring you.

“I dearly hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, my sweet librarian,” he said, and before he left, with a wave of his wand, he grabbed your panties and left with a last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Although I expect you to behave from now on.”

Before you went to sleep that night, you replayed what happened over and over again, and despite the unsatisfiable desire, there was also anger. This man has a wife! You were livid. How could he do this? Not even the degradation – but that you let yourself be treated like that by a man who has a wife!

The next day, during your lunchbreak, the largest bouquet of roses you had ever seen was delivered to the library. There must’ve been more flowers in it than in the entire flower shop in Hogsmeade. The ridiculous arrangement sat on the desk, crowding over all the books. The delivery witch had you sign for them, but refused to tell you who they were from. You shook your head, as you sank down on your chair, staring at them. You didn’t have a vase big enough.

While you were preparing and cutting the stems, you found a note. ‘L. M.’ Was all it said and it filled you with annoyance.

Lucius. Your eyes shot fire at the mention of his name. How dare he play this off in this way. What a condescending gesture, to buy you roses just to stake some sort of claim on you. To remind you of what the two of you did the day before, to keep you in line. Resolutely, you throw the note in the paper bin. Perhaps you should send him a note too, and tell him to save those roses for his wife.

Now what? This many wouldn’t even fit in any garbage bin - not without attracting a horrible amount of attention. Perfectly pristine flowers thrown away would cause enough drama, more than keeping them would. So you, sigh, and continue trimming the stems, getting your anger out with each snip. There was enough to set a few flowers in small vases, or mugs, when those ran out, on each table in the library. The anger had faded by the time it was done, and you looked out over the suddenly very colourful library. Who will water them each morning? You’d never get around to your actual job like this.

What was left of the encounter, was that nagging feeling, of being special. Special enough to have watched such a powerful man as Lucius Malfoy become undone. You smiled softly as you stacked several returned books in your arms. Perhaps this wasn’t over yet.

[hjparisian]

you're losing me- theodore nott x reader

p: theodore nott x gn!reader w: kinda sad, angst summary: Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have been close friends since they were kids. Realizing their feelings for each other, they pursue a relationship. Theodore begins to change and (Y/N) feels that they're losing him. a/n: i wanna apologize for how long it's taken for me to get this out, but i hope its still enjoyable. also do you guys like the summaries before the story? not sure if i should keep them or not

Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have known each other since they were young. Being purebloods, they were put together with the other pureblood kids at parties. The first party they ever been to, the two clicked, deciding they were designated party buddies at these boring functions.

Aside from the Malfoy's, the (L/N)'s also threw numerous elegant parties. The (L/N)'s never cared for where the kids were as long as they were exhibiting proper sophisticated behavior when present. At one of the (L/N)'s parties, young (Y/N) dragged young Theodore to one of the many rooms in the manor, wanting to escape the adults. The room had rows of books from floor to ceiling, a fireplace, and big windows that brought in beautiful sunlight during the day.

From that day forward, that was (Y/N)'s and Theodore's room. (Y/N) would always bring Theodore to the room whenever he was over, whether it be during parties or the holidays, and Theodore would bring more books to add to the shelves. Sometimes they would invites some of their closet pureblood friends like Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Blaise, and the Greengrass sisters, but to them, it was their room only.

Once the two began going to Hogwarts, they felt closer than ever, and the fact that they were both placed in Slytherin helped. If (Y/N) was in the library studying, Theodore was next to them helping. If Theodore was chilling in the common room with his mates, (Y/N) was sitting right next to him.

In fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament was taking place and the Yule Ball was announced. Everyone was scrambling to find someone to take. Theodore had only one person in mind though, (Y/N). He told them to meet him at the astronomy tower, where he stood there holding their favorite flowers, ready to pop the question.

"(Y/N) (L/N), will you make me the luckiest man alive by being my date to the Yule Ball?"

Much to his pleasure, (Y/N) said yes.

The day of the Yule Ball finally came and everyone was excited. Both (Y/N) and Theodore were nervous, not wanting to embarrass themselves in front of the other. The moment the two laid their eyes on each other, they didn't even notice the other people around them, all they saw was each other. Toward the end of the night, Theodore told (Y/N) his feelings, sparking a new relationship at Hogwarts.

Everything was going just fine, sure they may have small arguments, but Theodore and (Y/N) would always be able to patch things up. But things start to change in the sixth year. Theodore started to be more distant. He would either be late to breakfast or not show up at all. Everytime (Y/N) would ask if they could meet somewhere, Theodore would always reply with "Can't, I'm busy right now." This change was putting a strain on their relationship.

To everyone else, it seemed that Theodore and (Y/N) were fine, but in reality, there's an unknown battle going on. (Y/N) tried to appear happy in front of their friends, not wanting to worry them, but there was one person that could see through their facade. Pansy.

Every time Pansy would confront (Y/N) about this, (Y/N) would defend Theodore with their life.

"(Y/N), I can see things between you and Theo aren't okay."

"No! I mean, we're fine. Theo's just busy right now with school."

Pansy knew that they really cared for Theodore and don't want to face the facts that their relationship is starting to fall. But by doing so, (Y/N) is slowly bleeding out from the pain he is causing them.

Before winter break, (Y/N) was invited to Slughorn's Christmas Party. Those who were attending were encouraged to bring a date. They decided to take a chance and ask Theodore to be their date, not wanting to go with anyone else.

(Y/N) was able to find Theodore in the common room reading, and decided to take chance.

"Hey."

Theo looks up at them. "Hey."

"I was wondering, if you weren't busy, if you would be my date to Slughorn's Christmas Party?" There was a slight pause. "Blaise and Pansy are going. I think Daphne too."

(Y/N) looks at Theodore, slightly scared for his response. The man took a breathe before answering.

"Sure."

"Good." (Y/N) said. "It's on the 20th at 8 o'clock. Dress nice."

Theodore Nott said yes to going. So why was (Y/N) disappointed by his response? It's because his response wasn't what they were expecting. Theodore's responses were typically more energetic, telling them there was nothing else he'd rather do than spend time with them.

Was this the beginning of an end? Is (Y/N) starting to lose Theodore? Or is it the other way around? Will Theodore lose (Y/N) by pushing them away?

The night of Slughorn's Christmas Party was not an exciting one. (Y/N) was deciding if they should just ditch it and leave Theodore waiting for them, if he even bothered to show up. But of course, Theodore wouldn't ditch them nor would (Y/N), having been taught manners all their life by their parents.

The two met up in the common room, deciding they could walk together to Slughorn's office for the party. The walk was painfully silent, until (Y/N) decided to break it.

"So. How have you been?"

"Fine." Theodore responds. "You?"

"I've been alright. Mainly doing school work."

Theodore hums in response, ending the brief conversation.

Luckily, they had arrived at Slughorn's office. Theodore opened the door and as they walked in, it felt like they were transported somewhere else. It seemed as if the Potions professor really out did himself, with all the gold, crimson, and emerald hangings, it definitely did not feel like they were in his office.

(Y/N) spotted their Slytherin friends and dragged Theodore towards them. Pansy stood with Blaise, who was holding her waist while Daphne Greengrass was chatting it up with Adrian Pucey.

"Hey, Pansy!" (Y/N) called out.

Pansy turned towards the two Slytherins at the sound of her name. "(Y/N)! Theodore!" She ran to give (Y/N) a hug, Blaise joining her to give Theodore their so called 'bro hugs'.

"You look stunning," Pansy says.

"Aw thank you Pansy," said (Y/N). "You do too!"

"And what about your other favorite Slytherin? Don't I look hot?" Blaise asks with a sly grin.

"Ah Blaise," (Y/N) begins to say. "You look absolutely terrible." A small 'Hey!' leaves Blaise's month as he looks offend. "Joking, joking!"

A voice calls (Y/N)'s name. It was Professor Slughorn.

"Ah (Y/N)! I'm so glad you're here. Come with me, I've got a couple people who are want to meet the (L/N)'s heir!"

"Oh er, sure Professor," (Y/N) tells him as he begins to drag them away.

"Worry not dear (Y/N) you'll be back with your friends soon!"

As Slughorn was bringing (Y/N) to meet some of his friends and alumni, (Y/N)'s eyes looked at Theodore, who wasn't even aware or concerned about their temporary departure. In fact, he was more focused on the seemingly wonderful conversation he was having with Daphne Greengrass.

While being forced to talk with numerous people, thanks to Professor Slughorn, (Y/N) couldn't help but keep looking for Theodore, hoping he was looking for them but to their disappointment, he was staring still staring into the eyes of Daphne, smiling as she was talking. He hadn't looked at them like that in ages.

They had to talk to Theodore.

(Y/N) turned to the lady that was currently chatting with her. "My apologies, I must be heading now, if you could excuse me." They began walking towards their supposed lover and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hello Theodore, Daphne. I hope you don't mind if I talk to Theo about something, do you?" (Y/N) asks.

"Oh no, go ahead," Daphne tells them.

(Y/N) had already begun to drag Theodore outside the party, pulling him into an empty corridor. As soon as they stopped, Theodore yanks his hand out of (Y/N)'s grasp.

"What is it you want, (Y/N)?" Theodore asks. "Daphne and I were in the middle of a conversation."

"What I wanna know is what is up with you? Since the start of this year, you've practically been ignoring me! Everytime I've asked to do something, you always say you're busy!"

"That's because I am busy-"

"Doing what? Spending time with Daphne? Avoiding us?"

"(Y/N), no. It isn't-"

"It isn't what, Theodore? I see the way you look at Daphne. It's how you used to look at me."

At this point, (Y/N) was struggling to hold their tears back, releasing all the anger, frustration and pain they've been holding in.

"This whole time I've been pretending everything was fine, but in reality I was waiting for you to do something to save us. To show that you still love me."

"(Y/N) I still love you."

"If you still did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Theodore took a deep breath, obviously starting to get frustrated.

"Listen (Y/N), let's just go back to the party and talk about this later." Theo tells them.

"Oh? So you can avoid this whole conversation and me the rest of the night? To spend your night with someone else?"

"Honestly (Y/N), you're over exaggerating," Theodore scoffs. He turns and starts walking away from them.

"And where are you going?"

"Away. I think we need space right now. I'll see you after break."

Theodore leaves (Y/N) alone in the corridor. All (Y/N) could do was sob, feeling heartbroken. The next day, they took the next train and returned to the (L/N)'s manor.

"How has school been? Are you passing all your classes?" (Y/N)'s mother asked during lunch.

(Y/N) swallowed the piece of food in their mouth before responding. "It's been alright. I'm doing well in all my classes. I have O's and E's."

"And how are your friends?" (Y/N)'s father chimes in. "Oh and Nott's boy! How could I forget? How is he?"

"Oh Theodore! That boy is so sweet." (Y/N)'s mother said.

Of course they'd have to bring up Theodore. "Everyone's doing alright. We're just all busy with classes and preparing for NEWTs next year." said (Y/N), trying to avoid the topic of the Slytherin boy.

"You know," their mother begins. "I wouldn't mind if you and Theodore got married once you graduate from Hogwarts."

If (Y/N) had anything in their mouth, they would've done a spit take.

(Y/N)'s father agreed. "I think it would be wonderful! Uniting the Nott and (L/N) families."

(Y/N) didn't want to let their parents know what happened between the two. It would only cause more harm and could ruin any business going on between the two families. Besides, who'd want to marry the insecure heir of the (L/N)?

Not wanting to discuss this anymore (as well as losing their appetite), (Y/N) handing their plate to the families house elf before standing up.

"If you'll excuse me, I would like to do a bit of studying."

(Y/N) began walking straight to their room, until a specific set of doors caught their eye. They decide to take a detour and enter it. It was the room where Theodore and (Y/N) would spend their times hiding from the adults at the elegant pureblooded parties.

It looked about the same since they were last in it near the beginning of summer. Shelves of books filled from floor to ceiling, the fireplace was out, books strewn about on tables, and their most favorite part of this room, the large windows that shined sunlight on them. It was one of the major things that Theodore and (Y/N) liked about this room.

On one of the tables was a handkerchief with the initials T.N. embroidered on it. It was Theodore's.

One summer afternoon, (Y/N) and Theodore sat across from each other reading. Theodore heard small sniffs and looked up to see (Y/N) with tears welled up in their eyes.

"(Y/N) are you alright?" He asked them, concerned for their wellbeing.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "Oh, yes, sorry. I just got to a really emotional part in my book, but I'm alright."

Theodore put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a white cloth with the letters T.N. on it in gold.

"Here, (Y/N)," Theodore says as he hands it to them. "So you can wipe the tears. I hate to see you cry."

(Y/N) immediately takes the handkerchief and dabs the tears away. "Thank you so much Theo."

The boy gave them a smile. "Anything for you (Y/N)."

All (Y/N) could do was cry at the memory. The Theodore that they once loved, was practically gone. The love they had for each other has faded. They could no longer find the pulse leading to their love.

All that remain was the room that Theodore and (Y/N) had loved because of the light.

[wordsarelife]

—the black dog

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: the war awakes something in theo you hadn't thought was even there. you battle with your feelings of heartbreak, while you try to forget his everlasting presence in your life

warnings: mentions of death, grief, pain and torture. canon typical violence. this is very much heartbreak through and through

note: this isn't exactly what you asked for but your request inspired me to write this. i feel like it was important to highlight the complicated relationship that theo and reader resulted in because of the war.

theo and draco are cousins in this.

"would you please just talk to me?" you screamed. he had been acting weird for a few days now. 

at first you hadn't thought anything of it, not at the beginning. it had started with draco, who had been strange since the school year started, staying behind when the rest of you would go somewhere or disappearing in the middle of dinner. 

you had tried talking to him, you had grown closer over the time you and theo were together. you had quickly realized that it was hard for draco to build relationships, partly because he wasn't sure how and partly because he was scared of being left. 

you had done a pretty good job at showing him that you were going nowhere and that he, even if theo and you should break up one day, would still be your friend. 

you had thought that it had something to do with his parents. he didn't mention them often and you had only met them once, during a visit to the manor for a festivity during the winter break of the fifth year. you admitted that you didn't know them well, but it was easy enough for you to judge narcissa malfoy and the connection she had to her son. the love that kept her from ever risking something happening to him.

whatever was going on with him, his mother was well informed and probably already searching for a solution.

but draco had made it clear to you that he wanted to be left alone and you didn't push him to tell you more, just comforted him whenever he would let you or pansy. 

his weird behavior had been a constant throughout the entire year, until the point where it had influenced mattheo and enzo to act just as suspiciously and if you thought it couldn't get worse, you had been wrong. 

"i can't" theo muttered between clenched teeth, and you tried to look at his face as he frantically turned away from you. 

"is it about harry? is it about something he said to draco? did he say something to you?"

harry and the rest of your gryffindor friends were normally a topic you strictly avoided when in company of the slytherins and especially draco. you didn't agree on the childish rivalry they had going on and rather just kept out of that. but now that you thought about it, harry had been acting just as strange as draco had since the beginning of the year.

"potter doesn't matter, y/n" theo pressed his hands on both your shoulders, scaring you with the look on his face. 

"let me help you, love" you tried to not let it affect you, to not let the fear shine through your voice and honestly, you weren't scared of him, but of what would happen to the boy you loved so desperately it felt like breathing. 

"you can't" theo shook his head. "but you have to get ouf of the castle immediately, promise it to me"

"what? why should i--"

"you have to promise it" theo repeated louder, desperate and teary eyed as he stared at you like you had already died. 

the threatening war had made it harder to overlook the differences between you and the slytherins. you were a pureblooded witch, but definitely didn't share the same views about blood purity your friends did. 

"okay" you cooed, taking him into your arms. "i promise, i promise anything you want" 

theo didn't leave much room for questions when he told you to get off the hogwarts grounds and apparate home to your parents a few minutes later. you were scared and confused, as you watched the fear in his eyes flame up at whatever was coming. there was something he was not telling you and it simply broke your heart, knowing that he had to go through it alone. 

you weren't sure what took over you, when you heard a familar laugh, one that was so earth shattering and haunting, you couldn't help but dash back into the castle, despite what you had promised your boyfriend, his name repeating over and over again in your mind. 

you took two stairs at once, sprinting up the tower, wand in hand and ready to jump to theo's defense. 

"you made mummy so proud, boys" bellatrix said and you wanted to throw up at the tone in her voice. you could just imagine enzo and mattheo, or what was left of them, looking at their mother, not one bit of love or familiarity on their face. just fear. 

before you could climb the rest of the stairs, a hand grabbed you, pulling you to the side, behind old school supplies. the persons other hand was pressed onto your mouth and your eyes grew big until you noticed harry, stoic expression, not amused at seeing you. 

"harry" you muttered relieved. 

"what are you doing here?" harry whispered, not caring for the fear in your voice or the intent you had had coming up here in the first place. 

before you could answer, bellatrix spoke once again. 

"your boy has surely made you proud too, nott" she giggled. "just like our draco will make his parents in just a few minutes"

your eyes went up to the floor above you like your own name had been called. it wasn't even theo she had called by the name and still you could just imagine his slumped down shoulders and sickly expression. the same he had been spotting these past few days.

harry watched you closely, as if to make sure you would keep quiet, before his eyes turned back up too. 

“do it” bellaxtrix hissed at draco, who had raised his wand at dumbledore.

harry and you exchanged glances, before he too, raised his wand. you gripped on his arms tightly, shaking your head at him. 

“we can’t” you mouthed. 

“dumbledore” harry whispered. you shook your head again, tears spilling over your cheeks. 

your eyes left harry and wandered back through the floorboards. you couldn’t see theo, enzo, and mattheo, but draco was clearly shaking in fear and you couldn’t help but be worried about him. 

“draco” bellaxtrix encouraged once more “do it!”

“he’s not brave enough, bellatrix” notts voice rang out sounding as triumphantly as possible. you heard movement on the floor, a pair of dark shoes stepping forward and you wondered what nott was planning to do, when your heart suddenly stopped beating. 

“avada kedavra” a voice muttered, wand raised and aimed at dumbledore, who fell backwards so slowly as if time had stopped.  

harry gripped your arm, your body still frozen, as your eyes stayed focused on notts shoes. theodore notts shoes. not his father. theo, your theo. 

theo had just killed dumbledore. 

one part of you wanted to scream, jump into the open and scream at him or bellatrix or all the people a few steps above you, but the other part, the unstoppable dread, was aching to hide away from all of it, to just go and never come back.

how could you ever look at him again after what you had just witnessed? would he still be the same after he had done something like this? you couldn’t. he wouldn’t. your heart ripped open. 

“y/n” harry whispered, pushing you back to hide the both of you behind some old astronomy maps. footsteps descended down the stairs and out of the tower and you felt like you could breathe again once he had left. 

you sank to your knees immediately. harry still watched the space around you, not sure if you were entirely safe yet. 

someone ran up the stairs. harry tried grabbing you to push you back behind the old things, to shield you from whoever was coming back and trying to finish the job. 

it was snape and harry felt relieved for the first time upon seeing the teacher. he didn’t fully trust him, but dumbledore did. also, snape was a far better option than any of the death eaters. 

snapes eyes jumped between harry and you on the ground, before they turned to look up the stairs. 

“they’re gone” harry said, voice raised to drown out your sobbing, before he bent down once more and helped you back onto your feet. he pulled you close, to bring you comfort and shield your tear spilled face from snape's penetrating gaze.

harry wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he could almost see a bit of pity in snape’s eyes, when the man watched you stand on your shivering legs, only held up by harry, as if your body was too heavy to stand on it’s own.

it was just suddenly that the meaning of snape's presence painted a clear picture in your mind. narcissa malfoy hadn't found a solution, no she had found something that was even better: a substitute, someone to step in, when draco would ultimately fail upon the task he had been given.

and tiberius nott had done the same, only that he had proudly sold out his son instead of sparing his life.

you threw off harry’s arms, walking across the room, step by step, until you were standing in front of the teacher, ready to bash his head in.

“you are too late” you cried, not caring if spit or tears or anything else fell onto his robes. you stabbed a finger to his chest. “it’s your job to help. why didn’t you help him?” you cried.

snape furrowed his brows in confusion. “draco?” he asked in his normal tone, but a little bit of surprise broke through. just like you had thought. not even snape had held draco for capable of fulfilling his task.

you shook your head. slowly, bitterly. It was unfair that you had to say his name, that you had to recapture the event like a missed quidditch game, that snape had been late enough to miss it, but perfectly on time to watch your life fall apart.

you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. couldn’t even mutter the name that had been the most beautiful thing to you these past years, there was nothing left. no meaning behind those letters and still you couldn’t do it. “nott” you said. 

it was over. 

“nott?” snape repeated, as if he was daring you to finally say what you had been dreading. 

“junior” harry muttered. you turned your head at him and he looked down on his shoes, as if he was ashamed you had heard him. 

“surprisingly unexpected” snape noted, like you had been discussing the weather.

“what?” you muttered, your voice strained. 

“y/n” harry said softly and you could hear him coming closer. you broke apart from snape, slapping his hand away when he tried reaching for your arm in an unusual caring manner. 

“you failed him” you spit at him, before you stormed out of the tower, harry hot on your heels.

bellaxtrix and the rest of the deatheaters, were jumping down the grass path to hagrids hut. following behind them were draco, enzo, mattheo and finally theo, who stepped out of the castle as last.

they had probably strolled through the halls, bringing their inevitable destruction into the home you had grown to love and cherish.

harry and you had watched them from the side of the entryway, dried tears on your cheeks and the anger taking over the pain that had tightened your chest. you loved him, but you couldn't believe that he had had no choice.

killing someone was not debatable.

you had watched in susprise when theo had not been there with them, but your surprise had been quickly taken over by even more anger, when he finally strolled through the door, hands in his pockets, like he was talking a late evening stroll.

your hand wept forward without so much as a thought, gripping the material of his tie and yanking him back.

theo made a gurgling sound, briefly breathless, and it was only his surprise that allowed you to measure up enough strength to effectively pull him back. that and your anger.

harry helped you as he pushed theo against the wall, wand at his throat.

theo took a big breath as soon as you let go of his tie, his eyes widened in surprise as he completely ignored harry and only looked at you, your face cast with shadows of the darkness in the creeping night and the regret that was so evident it only pained him further.

"didn't i tell you to go home?" it didn't surprise you that there was still a hint of superiority in his voice, even if it had faltered tremendously.

"you knew about all of it, didn't you?" you asked instead.

"y/n" theo sighed, in a tone as if he was inspecting a failed task for a homework you hadn't been able to finish. "i can explain"

"i don't think you should" you muttered and you were doing your best to not let the look of helplessness that now entered his face break your heart any further. "i just think i speak for the both of us, when i say that it's over"

"y/n" theo pleaded, pushing against harry's hold to try and reach for you. you stepped back and harry pushed the tip of his wand deeper into theo's neck.

you shook your head, not having it in you to look at him, before you turned around. "do what you have to do" you left the two of them alone, knowing that harry was just waiting to punish theo for killing one of the most important people to him.

you couldn't muster up the courage to even care about what would happen to him. your anger at snape had evaporated as fast as it had come. theo had it in him to kill and snape's late arrival changed nothing about that.

the person you had loved died together with the headmaster.

everything had been lost the moment he had muttered the curse, leaving behind a hurricane of feelings in your heart, but no one left to love in this world.

you did not waste another thought for him, pushing his name so far away from your mind, you almost forgot about him completely.

but a three-year relationship wasn't just consisting of memories, but of habits too and you found yourself thinking about possibilities in the dead of night.

possibilities that you had thought to be endless before, but of which was only one left now.

what if theo hadn't killed dumbledore?

your friends were clearly worried about you. hermione and ginny never left you alone during your stay in the burrow or during the nights, which had to have been the most haunting. the time were you most experienced his loss, as nightmares were plaguing your mind and fear was taking over your senses, feeling like you had made a mistake with theo. even if your friends and the weasleys said something different.

it was the same restlessness that lead to you following hermione, ron and harry on an adventure that was trying to fulfill an impossible task.

but there was no hope left if you didn't at least try what had been asked of you and you were smart enough to realize that.

even though you were always together, the time you were on the road seemed to be the most lonely you had ever felt and you found yourself thinking more about theo than you had wanted to.

none of your friends dared to say anything to you the next morning, when you would call out his name in your dream, always asking yourself what had happened, and if he was even still alive.

your question was answered in a different way than you had liked, when your group was discovered by deatheaters and brought back to malfoy manor, where not only draco and the malfoys, but theo was staying too.

you hadn't seen him at first, down in the dungeon. but surely they had come to get hermione, bringing her back a few hours later, scarred and crying for mercy as she fell into ron's arms.

it took another hour to call for the other female friend of harry potter.

"the other?" you could draco's voice ask when you were dragged up the stairs and through the halls.

"what other?" it was theo's voice that was now speaking, fear and dread overweighing the curiosity.

the door flew open and five people turned around to gain a look at you.

narcissa and lucius malfoy were sitting in obnoxious chairs, spotting similiar looks of surprise and interest.

bellatrix was hanging over the back of narcissa's chair. her hands pressing down on her younger sister's shoulders, squeezing them as if she was excited.

narcissa suddenly seemed less content, as she heard the similar gasps coming from her sons and nephew's mouths.

draco and theo were staring at you wide-eyed. their faces pale and painfully twisted as they recalled what had happened with harry potter's other friend just hours before.

"oh" bellatrix quirked up when the unknown death eater threw you to the floor and theo and draco dashed forward at the same time to try and catch you, before they were held back by the black haired witch. "do you happen to know her?"

your eyes were fixated on the doors behind you, which fell close with a loud thud as the deatheater who had brought you disappeared.

"no" draco and theo mustered up to stutter at the same time.

you send a glare across the room. it meant nothing, those two were only shells of the boys you had once known. but the innocence had been drained from them like a well run dry in a relentless drought.

"what are we going to do with you?" bellatrix smiled, stepping away from the chair and walking around your body on the floor.

narcissa reached for theo's arm, when he was about to drag bellatrix away from you.

you averted your eyes. not giving her the satisfaction to see the fear in them.

bellatrix looked through your act immediately. "she's a tough one" she noted and her expression of admiration changed to a malicious grin as she saw theo close his eyes.

"you do it" she laughed excitedly, stepping forward and pulling theo into the middle of the room.

"bellatrix, please" narcissa said, not even bothering to stand up and stop her sister from her attempt.

"what, cissy?" bellatrix asked. "you don't think she should be punished for stealing?"

"stealing what?" your voice made bellatrix turn around dramatically.

"would you look at that!" she gushed "the girl can speak!"

"yes" you nodded "and the girl can even tell you that she stole nothing"

"lie" bellatrix giggled and you had to admire her persistence, while the playful tone in her voice kept you on edge, always waiting for the moment she would break into an insanely loud scream.

you had heard not only hermione's cries, but bellatrix' screams from the dungeon. that gave a measure to how loud she was able to scream. and how she could torture until there was nothing left of the person you had once been.

"atta boy!" bellatrix encouraged theo, as she pushed him closer, until he was standing just a few feet from your body.

you wouldn't beg for their mercy. you would die without feigning any regret. if bellatrix really thought you stole something from her, you were glad she was torturing you instead of harry, who was much more important for everything coming after.

you could afford to die so early into the war. you were of no importance for the safety of the wizarding world.

you looked up at theo. the blue of his eyes mixed together with the tears that were already spilling over the edges.

"it shouldn't be hard" you said, voice hoarse and strained. you had been apart for almost ten months and he was still creating a lump in your throat, he was standing for everything that had been lost.

theo exchanged a glance with draco, almost as if begging him to take his place.

"bellatrix, this is madness" narcissa said, a bit stricter now, as if her simple words could really change the mind of someone who had already decided to embrace the madness her sould had been corrupted by.

"oh, cissy" bellatrix giggled "how will he learn? just another step on the path he must take to be granted the honour of the dark lord"

"do it" you said to theo, ignoring what bellatrix was babbling about.

"i can't—“ theo looked back at narcissa, talking to her rather than you.

"do it!" you repeated, louder this time.

"she even wants him to" bellatrix noted, clear amusement in her voice. she was almost excited to find out more about the conflict between you and her nephew.

"she's a pureblooded witch" theo turned to bellatrix, now trying to convince her himself. "she's one of us"

"i'm not" you protested, but bellatrix ignored you, stepping forward and touching theo's cheek softly with the pocket knife that she had taken from her robes, dripping in blood. hermione's blood probably.

"i thought you didn't know her" bellatrix mused "but the knowledge about her blood status suggests otherwise" theo gulped and before he was ready to say something, bellatrix has dragged the weapon across his cheek with one quick gesture, leaving a bleeding cut.

theo looked down quickly, as if to hide his injury from you, but he hadn't missed the gasp of air you had taken, scared that the woman had planned to kill him.

bellatrix stepped back next to her sister. "go on boy, don't make auntie bella angry" she threatened, playing with the knife in her hand.

not even narcissa dared to say something.

"just kill me" you told theo, when he raised his eyes to look at you once more, wand still losely hanging to the side. "you know how to"

"y/n" theo muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

"it doesn't matter" you shook your head. "just do it" you closed your eyes, ready for the stream of the green curse to take over your body and future.

theo did not raise his wand.

"kill me" you said loudly, unforgiving, almost screaming. you opened your eyes to look at your tormentors. apart from bellatrix none of them looked like they were particularly enjoying what was happening.

bellatrix’s eyes gleamed with a twisted satisfaction as if she was savoring the power she held over theo. narcissa’s face was a portrait of conflicted emotions, torn between her loyalty to her sister and her love for her son and nephew. lucius’s gaze darted nervously between the scene unfolding before him, as if hoping for some resolution to the madness. draco was crying and trying to swallow the breaths that were tempting him to throw up right on his aunt's feet.

and theo? theo was rather keen on killing himself than doing you any harm.

you were less forgiving. "kill me like you killed dumbledore!" you screamed, tears falling on the floor in front of you, as your voice echoed off the cold stone walls. the anger in your voice was raw, pure, and unfiltered. theo flinched at the words, his face paling further, if that was even possible. the weight of your demand seemed to crush him, making it even harder for him to act.

you were so indescribably angry. but not at what he had done to you, but rather what he had done to himself. and that in it alone was the reason you would never forgive him.

he had ruined what you had loved. he had killed the person you had loved the most and you had nothing left to care about what would happen to you.

maybe it was his punishment that he had to be the one to kill or torture you.

theo’s grip on his wand faltered as he looked at you with a mixture of horror and heartbreak. he seemed to be struggling not just with what he was being asked to do, but with the shattered remnants of the person he used to be.

bellatrix’s patience wore thin, her frustration evident as she waved her wand dismissively. “enough of this pathetic display,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “the boy is clearly too weak for this task.”

“no!” theo shouted, his voice cracking. “i can’t— i won’t—” his wand dropped to the floor, clattering against the stone with a finality that seemed to reverberate through the room.

the room erupted into chaos as bellatrix’s fury reached its peak. she turned on theo with a rage that was almost as palpable as your own pain. narcissa tried to intervene, her voice pleading, but it was clear that the darkness had already taken hold.

but before she was able to mutter a curse, to torture or kill theo right in front of your eyes, harry, ron and hermione came running in the room, wands raised they started firing spells.

it took you a moment longer to get up. you and theo held eye contact, the boy just a crumpled mess on the floor in front of you. you reached out your hand and took his wand, disarming bellatrix, who began screaming.

the fight was short and unforgiving as the malfoys were throwing spells. draco was struggling to keep up with harry's quick movements and theo did not even make an attempt to stand up. instead he kept his eyes trained on you.

dobby appeared suddenly, calling you to him to bring you to safety, after he had let a chandelier fall onto bellatrix who had held a knife to hermione's throat.

you stepped forward once more, kneeling in front of theo, who looked up at you with curiosity, just hoping you would be taking him with you.

"i will never forgive you" you muttered instead and all hope left his face and heart. you healed the cut on his cheek with a move of his own wand. "you should've killed me and maybe i could've been able to"

you did not look back again as you ran across the room to your friends. you just left him there, on the ground in malfoy manor, as you took dobby's hand and followed your friends into the uncertain.

one heart shattering realisation left with you that day.

theo's gaze would haunt your nightmares. but the possibility of his death would haunt your dreams, as you could only forgive him if he didn't survive.

[petriwriting]

Vero amore - Theodore Nott X Reader (Part 1.)

Summary: Theodore is on trial for being associated with voldemort due to his father and family history, His odds arent looking so good. Luckily for him you are called to the stand to testify on his behalf, and you just might be the key to his innocence.

Fluff, established previous relationship, Exbf!Theo, Older!Theo and others. Post hogwarts.

A/N: My first longer(ish) story. Let me know if you want to be tagged for part 2 and if you like it overall, I always like feedback! also if it is poorly edited I will go back and change a few things here or there. nothing major though. Please heed my warning this will have a lot of time jumps and memories but it will all make sense in the end promise. (Mini Series is now a WIP)

Italic is memories

"This could be the end of me." 

Theodore sighs in defeat, he is exhausted, and takes a swig of butterbeer to calm his nerves. The years past had not been kind to the man, his shoulders were low, as if they were fatigued from carrying the weight of the world had weakened his posture. His eyes had sullen dark circles beneath them, and his hair was long and un-kept. There was a cigarette between his fingers, it was unlit, but waiting patiently. He wasn't so much nervous, as he was ready for this to all be over. He was more than ready to leave his family's reputation in the past and move forward to better things. He was slightly jealous of Draco Malfoy for that reason, Draco had even become much more acquainted with Harry Potter after the war, leaving his reputation in the past now as a mature adult. Theodore felt partially he hadn't matured enough, and that he was still the boy who was stuck in his 6th year. It was a harsh adjustment for everyone, but Theo was completely alone now, with his father pronounced deceased shortly after the war and an estate left to him. He was an only child, his mother was gone. He pushes away all his friends for the most part and had not bothered making new ones... Theodore Nott was a mess. With one hand holding the beer bottle and cigarette, his other hand found its way to his pocket, pulling out a tiny black stone, rubbing it between his fingers to self soothe. 

"Let's not be too dramatic." Blaise says, with a slighty comforting tone. luckily for Theodore, Blaise had been helping him through his depression despite his best efforts to push him away. It was an effort that was silently appreciated. "I doubt Y/N would lie to the council, especially since it happened so many years ago." He said, standing at the other end of the kitchen island looking over at Theo. 

"Well, considering my behavior... I broke their heart. I wouldn't honestly wouldn't be upset if they did, Maybe I deserve it.." Theodore said, running his hand through his messy curls. 

Things had been tense for him lately. The ministry began investigating all those who were suspected to be involved with Voldemort's operations, one by one. Some trials were famous for their unhappy endings, others not so much. With Theodore Nott being his father's son, he was one of the first people to be questioned, going through the lengthy process of trying to prove his own innocence. His fathers action had ruined his son's reputation. Of course many of his friends had tried to speak on behalf of his good character, but the court's jury still seemed unconvinced. They had called you to the stand to testify for him, and he was utterly terrified. Although some may argue that the odds were stacked against Theodore, with the trace of a dark mark still plaguing his arm, Though others stand to believe he was innocent. Many of his friends had gotten through unscathed, although due to his father's high esteem, Theodore felt conflicted and angry. He knew it wasn't right to put you in that position, especially after all the time that has passed. Being a pureblooded slytherin associated with all things evil, the cards were not exactly in his favor.

"Well, let's hope for the best, shall we?" Blaise says, after pouring himself a small glass to toast with Theo. They had managed to stay relatively close throughout the years, despite all the chatter.

*Clink. 

"thanks, I'll need it." Theodore says, finally lighting his cigarette.

.    .    .You were relaxing one evening when a stocky brown barn owl nearly crashed into your window, with it came a letter with a familiar silver wax seal. The ministry of magic. You were quite alarmed, as you had no reason in particular to be contacted by them. Was your wand permit expired? or maybe there was some urgent matter to attend to? These questions flooded your mind as you carefully opened the letter. It was a summons. "You are hereby summoned to testify in court regarding the alleged innocence and character of Theodore Nott."  Readinghis name made your heart flutter. 

You had to stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath. You would be in the courtroom, testifying on behalf of your old ex-boyfriend from your school days. You could not believe it. The rest of the letter was a blur, something about instructions and court behavior expectations and what not to bring. You and Theodore had had a very Illustrious history together. He was your first love after all. It was all you could think about, for days on end until the court date finally arrived. It felt like months of sitting and waiting in anticipation and anxiety. Your mind turned over every interaction you had that would somehow frame you in a bad way, you were scared they might open a case on you just for the affiliation. Part of you, maybe even the tiniest part, felt that this was some kind of fate. Perhaps you were simply destined to relive the past, even if it was some of the most painful memories, maybe you could finally progress and heal after this.

You ran your fingers over your hair, readying yourself for what was about to come about, how it could all blow up in your face, or worse... You simply had no idea what to expect. You didn't even know what Theodore was up to these days apart from the slight mentions you overheard from friends and gossip. Aside from everything you were scared to face the man who broke your heart.

With a sigh, you apparated to the ministry's main office. Rushing past you were business men and women, Aurors, and some office workers. everyone seemed in a hurry, which didn't help your heart rate at all. It was beating fast as the seconds ticked on by. You scurried through the busy halls to the elevator, you were instructed to meet outside courtroom Ten, on the tenth level. You approached the doors steadily although nervously. You were waiting to be escorted into the main room. This level was so silent, almost as if it was void of any people at all. 

Someone in a plumb robe appeared, with a soft smile. It was a much older woman, something about her was oddly comforting. "Alright love," she said, sensing how nervous you were. You were fixing your collar for the third time. "No need to be scared, You'll see a bright light, then I will escort you to your seat." she explained. "Very simple." you nodded along. You could feel your heart-beat in your chest, wanting to run away or apparate somewhere you were familiar with, but you managed to keep yourself collected. 

It wasn't that you were scared of the court or being sentenced, you knew you were innocent and that you had nothing to hide, but you were anxious about seeing Theodore. The clever and mischievous boy you fell in love with may not be in that room, he may have changed completely. You were scared of that change. For you, it was devastating, He was your whole world and you loved him with all your heart, but you were starting to think that you must not have been the same to him, as after the war he had moved away from the city with blaise, Never even bothering to send an owl or talk to you. You tried to justify it, maybe he had his own reasons. He was going through a lot, without a doubt. above all you were scared you would fold under the pressure of being on the stand.

"Alright dear." the old woman whispered, taking your arm. you were led into the hall, it was dark. The woman was truthful about that bright light, it was blinding, like a spotlight. You could feel the enchantments that had been done in this room, there was a fuzzy, but calming feeling washing over you. The jury were all dressed in the same robes, sitting in near rows of curved benches that opened up into a central clearing, where there was a large chair on a podium. That must be where they would question people, you thought to yourself. The bright light began to disappear more and more as your eyes adjusted, as most of everything else was dark. The Wizengamot stood, everyone followed suit. you were standing on the sidelines with your escort, there was so much going on you almost didn't see Theodore sat across from everyone. There were two Aurors on either side of him and he was in restraints. It pained you to see him treated like a criminal, especially after seeing how gentle he really was. He looked older, still as handsome, but tired. Exhausted even, with dark circles under his eyes and his curls a mess atop his head. For a moment, you saw him and your heart skipped a beat.

"Witches and Wizards of the court, we are gathered today for the testimony of Y/N L/N on Behalf of Mr. Theodore Nott. shall the information and insight given to us today be conclusive, we may not need perpetuation of this case."  The wizengamot says. "We will proceed with a brief summary of our evidence, and our trial shall commence with Mrs.L/N's Testimony."

A small, short stubby man wanders up to the front of the jury to recap the evidence. He explains the case in short detail. Theodore was being accused of being affiliated with his father's operations, and since his father worked for Lord Voldemort the evidence was conveniently stacked against Theodore. The first piece of evidence was Theodore's dark mark, and the jury had apparently stated that this was a choice made by Theo, although you knew deep down it wasn't. The second piece of evidence brought up from collections was a broken time turner, you could clearly recall the memory of this. Although that was the only physical evidence against him, The other witnesses were named. One of them was a Slytherin student who had a class with Theodore, but you quickly realized whatever she had said must have been against his innocence, since it was someone Theodore rejected countless times, and he even left her alone to pick up a project worth most of their grade during fifth year granted, he did have a good excuse it didn't matter. The other witness was named Theodore's neighbor, an old man who had been acquainted with his father. It was clear the old man hated the Nott family, having lived in silent hatred next to the Nott manor for many years. And then, the final witness was you.

After turning the thoughts over your head, and imagining all possible outcomes you realized that they were about to try Theodore Nott for an affiliation with Death Eaters that was not his doing. Theodore was about to become a criminal  .  .  . 

You knew in your heart that this wasn't right. It was unjust. You would be guilt ridden for the rest of your life if you didn't at least attempt to unravel these lies. You could disprove most of the evidence anyway, you also knew that it might not be enough. Your escort stood behind you as you stood on the central platform to be seated for the jury. The same man who spoke before and welcomed everyone to the trial turned to you. "Mrs. L/N," he said, you gulped and took a shallow sigh. "How do you wish to proceed?" he asked you. 

You looked at him for a moment, and then back to the jury. They seemed like they didn't particularly care about being there. Without thinking much, "I would like to request to present my memories as evidence." you said. "Very well." the man replied, receding back into the room. At this time, you had to be sure you were providing the best evidence even if it meant showing everyone in that courtroom your most vulnerable moments. It was a brave gesture. 

After a few moments of silence, some Aurors emerged into the room with a Pensive. A small silver bowl with runes and symbols carved on the inside and outside, within it contained a shiny silver liquid. It was placed in the center of the room. The Auror approached you, asking for your permission before proceeding with extracting your memories. You had read about this in school, but you had never seen one let alone used one for yourself. He placed his wand up to your head, twirling gently. You felt a tear escape your eyes, it wasn't painful, but it felt like a sudden rush and headache. The Auror added the memories to the silver bowl, and in almost an instant it began to glow.

"Mrs. L/N," one of the jury members began. "are you sure you wish to proceed?" they asked, you nodded quickly. 

You took a deep breath as you looked into the bowl, It was enchanted to allow everyone to see your memories, and the glowing ball of light sprung up to illuminate the center of the room, within it was your memory.  .  .

[talesofadragon]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

Summary: Theodore Nott came to learn that an inciting incident can alter the course of history. Lucius Malfoy’s fall led to Draco’s dark mark and the death of Dumbledore. The rise of the Dark Lord urged Harry Potter into hiding and Death Eaters into prominence. And then there was Amycus Carrow, with his tainted hands on Y/N, who forced Theodore Nott to do the unforgivable.

Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted rape, graphic description of violence, panic attacks

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Non-Slytherin!Reader

Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 5.8K

All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥𝐬. The lines between the two flow steadily, each following its own cadence. And yet, despite their distinct course and the light years between them, they somehow find a way to draw parameters of joint space. Somehow, someway, they eventually overlap—meeting each other at the apex of catalysts and the twists between junctures to shape history and write the present.

Today starts like most stories do: quaint and subtle, setting the tone for an inciting incident that will tip this fable on its axis.

It’s a typical day, or as typical as it could get during Y/N’s last year at Hogwarts. She’s sitting at the far end of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, donning the same apprehensive expression as all her classmates. The turmoil that governs the halls is a jarring contrast to the flourishing and effervescent school of witchcraft and wizardry Hogwarts once was.

In this mangled reality, there are specks of the idyllic tales she’s heard about, and witnessed, growing up. Slytherins and Gryffindors sustain their infamous rivalry while in search of their individual purpose, purebloods hold themselves on par with Merlin himself, and more often than not, students find refuge in a forgotten nuke in Hogwarts when the burden of magic becomes too heavy to bear.

In the first drafts of the story, Hogwarts held its students under one embrace. But now, as we’re nearing a hazy end, an isolating veil drapes over the school, fracturing it into fewer than four houses and dividing it more than ever before.

“Now, as Barty Crouch Junior has so tirelessly shared, you have already been acquainted with Merlin’s three most formidable spells,” Alecto Carrow, one of Voldemort’s trusted Death Eaters explains. Her heels dig into the marble floors of the classroom, their screeches ricocheting across the walls in warning. 

“The Unforgivables,” her brother Amycus eagerly finishes. His yellow teeth wither under the dim light of the darkened sun as his arms open wide. It’s unsettling how he and his sister welcome such misfortune so openly.

As it happens every single time the Carrow twins revel in the darkest boulevards of magic, Y/N shifts in her seat until she’s nearly imperceptible. Each time, her eyes rove the expanse of the classroom, seeking out the comfort of peculiar hazel eyes. Within just ten seconds, her wandering gaze comes to rest on the idle brown walls, a weight of defeat settling upon her.

Upon her reluctant return to Hogwarts this year, Y/N was met with a torrent of unimaginable changes, starting with students being separated not only based on their house but also their blood status.

Purebloods became a procession of peacocks—majestic, refined, otherworldly. Only allowed to flick around with students of the same upper class. 

Half-bloods, on the other hand, belong to inconsistent ideologies. They teeter on the precipice of honor, waiting for Death Eaters like Umbridge and whoever else is in the Ministry to decide their fate. 

Muggleborns, it's best not to get started.

Y/N doodles a few meaningless shapes, swirling her quill around the parchment as she thinks of Theodore. Lately, it's become increasingly difficult to talk to him, let alone spot him, with all the changes in place.

Her classmates know she’s not paying attention and that she's only pretending she has her nose buried deep in her notes. Her quill, which scratches against the parchment, is nothing but a ruse to get the Carrows off her scent. 

This class truly has nothing to offer except for a modicum of nostalgia and a barrage of abuse, so if the Carrows are so gullible to believe that Y/N is actively listening, then so be it. 

By now, she takes it a step further, looking up to meet the eyes of the young children brought forth by the Carrows. She’s mastered the art of stoicism to a T, gazing at their expressions without showing a measly emotion. But every single time, she finds herself transported eons back to a time when things were drastically better.

Her memories vary, depending on whatever catalyst she encounters. She recalls seeing a girl with ginger waves once, and her mind acted on autopilot, bringing her back to the times she and her friends would huddle in their common room to animatedly talk about the latest Weasley prank. 

At the previous hints of pink, she remembered Umbridge when she was finally escorted outside of Hogwarts grounds. 

And today, her memories are not too different. Bittersweet at best and wistful at most. 

She finds a boy biting down on his lower lip. He’s a Gryffindor, judging by the color of his tie, more so by his audaciousness when he decides to lift his head and contain his fear. His eyes are hazel, edging closer to honey brown underneath the dim light of the classroom. And her mind is cruel enough to conjure the image of Theodore hovering above her naked body with lustful hazel eyes and abused fiery lips. 

Theodore doesn’t particularly fancy his eye color—he doesn’t quite fancy much about himself. He’s not oblivious to his popularity, but unlike Draco Malfoy, who shines like the stars, Theodore Nott glows like the moon in a dance of subtlety and intensity; a paradoxical luminosity that always leaves Y/N in awe. 

He never particularly bothered her during their first couple of years at Hogwarts, which explains why they never interacted until their fifth year. Back when Umbridge was foul toward the student population, especially vile toward anyone of lesser blood. 

Dennis Creevey, who had been a first-year at that time, fell victim to her malice. His penance for being born to muggle parents was bloodily etched on his hand. Y/N tried to help him, even though her own hand was hurting just as badly. The healing spells didn’t counter the dark magic infused in the quills, and while she could handle the pain, the poor eleven-year-old couldn’t. 

"May I?" a voice softly breathed from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned to see the unexpected sight of Theodore Nott, dressed in an emerald green tie and an aura of pristine silver. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and her hands trembled, a reaction heightened by the delicate hints of cinnamon swirling in the air.

When Theodore pulled out his wand, Dennis cowered. And to her surprise, Theodore’s face fell. Yet he quickly covered his crestfallen expression with a mask of pure stoicism.

Y/N’s gaze meandered away from the Slytherin and settled on the young Gryffindor. “It’s okay, Dennis,” she recalled herself saying at the time, even though she hadn’t mentally given her words the green light to tumble out of her mouth. Both Dennis and Theodore seemed equally surprised, turning their heads her way. “He’s not going to hurt you.” 

Maybe it was the softness of Theodore’s hazel eyes, or maybe it was how he abstained from touching the boy's bruised hand and elected to kneel to his level. To this day, Y/N doesn’t know what exactly made her fall for Theodore at that exact moment in time. 

Yet, all she knows in certainty is that she’s in love with Theodore Aurelius Nott. Pureblood, Slytherin Elite, Son of Darkness. But what can she do if one glance at his hazel orbs leaves her drowning in the depths of his moonshine?

“Miss Y/L/N!” 

Y/N’s head jerks when a protruding voice disturbs her reverie. She chances a glance at the front of the classroom, finding Alecto Carrow’s lidded eyes on her. Bright and sage, a stark contrast to the malevolence nestled within them.

“Yes?” Y/N wonders aloud.

“Given your diligence in recording the theoretical aspect of The Unforgivables, I believe it’s time for you to engage in the practicalities of said lesson,” Alecto announces with a tone that leaves no room for negotiation or refutation. 

With a sharp nod, she ushers Y/N out of her seat, beckoning her over until she's two steps away from her. Y/N stands idly, unaware of whether she's going to role-play as the tormentor or the tormented. But her internal questions are answered the moment Amycus Carrow shoves the Gryffindor boy with hazel eyes into her line of sight.

"Go on." Alecto wears a sinister expression as she levels Y/N with a taunting smile. "Demonstrate your aptitude to the class.”

Y/N doesn't step back nor does she shy away. She clings to the apathetic front she's adopted from her boyfriend, her gaze falling on the young boy, and her thoughts drowning out Alecto's sharp voice. By the time Amycus asks her to draw out her wand, she's mustered up enough confidence to answer with a terse "no."

“What do you mean no, you insolent brat!” Alecto bellows, being the first to succumb to her temper. For a snake, she is known to be as hot-headed as a lion. 

“I refuse to perform any curse on anyone,” Y/N clarifies, purposefully refraining from calling her “professor.” And if she had half a brain cell, perhaps she would’ve figured it out. 

“Is that so?” Alecto challenges. 

“Yes.” 

“Very well, despicable half-breed. You know the rules. You’re either the rodent or the snake. Guess you’ll always be the former.” 

She's calm and aloof on the outside, but Y/N is dreading what’s coming next. She’s never fallen victim to the Cruciatus, though she has heard all about it from Theodore and his friends—even once from Harry. 

She watches with steady eyelashes as Alecto draws her wand and points it at her. Although the curse is released, and screams reverberate across the walls, both Alecto and Y/N remain silent.

To Y/N's horror, the young Gryffindor boy thrashes on the ground with clenched fists and agonizing wails. Above him, Amycus stands like a conductor, his wand beckoning the crooked notes of the boy's voice to rise to a crescendo.

Finally, the screams die down, extinguishing and feeding the anguish of every student at once. Amycus turns to address the class, dismissing them all except for one. “You go ahead, Alecto,” he directs toward his sister. “If the little mouse wishes to squeak, then she’ll have to suffer graver consequences than what you have to offer.” 

Whatever Amycus has in mind seems to appease Alecto. Her expression is mirthful as she grabs the robes of the young Gryffindor boy and sweeps him out of the class, using his body as a cleaning broom. 

The students all file out, their glances lingering on Y/N. As the last of the students leaves, Amycus turns to the young girl. 

“Your wand, Miss Y/L/N,” he demands. Y/N debates not giving it to him, but she knows if she doesn’t, he’ll come and collect it himself. So, she reluctantly hands it over. “Ah, pretty little thing. What’s the core?”

“Dragon heartstring.” 

“Fitting for a spitfire like you.” 

“I thought I was a meek little mouse,” Y/N counters, making Amycus grin. 

“You are a lot of things, little girl,” he replies as he twirls her wand in his hand. “The wood?” 

“Larch.” 

“Enlighten me, Y/L/N,” Amycus voices out. If Y/N’s a mouse, then he seems to enjoy being a cat. His long and calloused fingers trace her wand while he circles her, trying to break her resolve. “What does the wood say about you?”

The question strokes her ear, carried by Amycus’ ghastly voice. Y/N stills, not seeing where he’s going. She jolts as Amycus taps the wand against her thigh, particularly the exposed skin between her skirt and stockings. 

“It’s best paired with wizards and witches who possess hidden talents,” she replies tersely. 

The hum coming from her side indicates that Amycus is listening—paying attention, though, not so much, considering he’s rather preoccupied with poking her skin with her wand while rotating around her. 

He’s playing with his food, Y/N tells herself, knowing this is just another trick of his. Somewhere in his sadist brain, his senses are sparking with delight at the prospect of Y/N’s discomfort, relishing the power he has over her.

A part of her wants to jam her wand in his eyes, pluck his eyeballs out, and proceed to stuff each in his nostrils. But another part of her stands idle, not even blinking as he keeps up his ministrations. 

Amycus smiles, taking up more of her personal space. Y/N’s senses are lit on fire as he traces her wand across her body. “Is your mouth a part of those talents, filthy witch? You don’t talk much, but rotten girls like you must know how to use their mouths.”

“To scream, I presume,” Y/N breathes. Her quip hits Amycus right in the face, and the maniac grins. His face is painted with a nefarious glee, that of a predator eager to feast on its prey. 

SA and Attempted Rape Content Begins Here. Skip Through This Scene by Scrolling to "Scene End."

The unsettling sensation against her ribs dissipates when Amycus pulls the wand away, but the apprehension still lingers. As she mentally prepares herself for the inevitable pain that comes along with the Cruciatus, Amycus’ hand cups her chin, and his molten lips crash against hers. The sensation is so crippling and unfavorable it sends her tumbling back into the table.

The pressure on YN’s cheeks intensifies until it becomes sharp and metallic. Fingers dig into her flesh, paving a path for Amycus’ tongue to follow. Though her hands slap against his chest, legs flailing around, he continues his exploration in the depths of her throat. 

It feels like he’s finally thrown her off a cliff, yet with all the energy Y/N can muster, she pushes his body away and slaps him across the face. 

He looks at her with unadulterated rage. Y/N forgoes reading his face in favor of bolting toward the door. But before she reaches the handle, she’s yanked back by her robes. The fabric tears, as does her heart. Amycus then throws her on top of the teacher’s desk and catches both her wrists in his hand. 

“Pitty your blood is impure, little witch. If you had to match your filthy mouth with something, I’d rather it be your pussy than your blood.” 

“Get off me,” Y/N enunciates with a quiver in her voice. It seems to feed Amycus’ wicked desires because she suddenly finds him nipping at her neck in pure delight. 

“You’ve disobeyed my direct order. When witches are bad, they’re punished.”

“You’re sick!” 

“And you’re delicious.” 

Y/N takes a deep breath, burying his face further in the junction between her neck and shoulder. His kisses are filthy, heavy, frigid. They make her body feel like ice—they make her feel as if she's been snatched and thrown into the depths of the Dark Lake. 

Amycus' hands grab her waist and flip her over until her gaze meets the darkness of the desk’s wood. If the sensation of the wand against her thigh left acid in her mouth, then Amycus’ fingers left her with bile overwhelming her senses.

“What a pretty little ass you’re hiding under here. It was made to be ruined.”

Y/N doesn’t have time to panic. In fluid movements, Amycus lifts her skirt, rips off the shorts she typically wears beneath, and spanks her ass. 

She yelps, struggling against the hand against her back that’s keeping her on the desk. She’s hit one more time and then two and three. The slaps are forceful and fiery, leaving her skin scalded and singed. 

A roar erupts from the depths of her soul when she feels a finger easing her thong. The force of her scream catches Amycus off guard, enough for Y/N to elbow him and dive to the ground for her wand. 

“Cruc—”

“Oh, so now you want to cast it!” 

With ease, Amycus manages to slap Y/N’s wand away. He ruthlessly places his palm against her stomach, pushing her back to the ground. 

Her head aches from the force of the blow, a scream barrelling through the space between her lips when Amycus towers over her, digging his obsidian nails into her skin. 

“It’s a shame that the most delightful toys happen to be the filthiest. Maybe this will teach you and your kind that you will forever remain beneath us.”

Y/N cries as Amycus incapacitates her lips. She squirms underneath his body, vaguely aware of the fabric he’s tearing in half, though oblivious to what clothing item it belongs to. 

She tries to non-verbally cast a spell, but her mind is too distracted to focus on the incantation. All she knows is that she needs to get Amycus off her. And yet, no amount of strength in her hands or her spells manages to draw him to a stop. 

His spit traces her lower lip, tantalizingly closing the distance between her mouth and collarbone. Y/N shudders, bellowing at the thought of his saliva trailing her skin. 

She wails, screams, and shouts until she realizes that Amycus probably cast Silencio without her knowing. Though futile, she tries to push his body weight off her, even resorts to kicking his ribs. 

It doesn’t work... until by some miracle from Merlin himself Amycus’ body flies toward the back wall, releasing her.

Scene End

Y/N gasps, pushing her palms against the tiled floor and lifting herself to a sitting position. Her chest heaves as she looks at the discarded fabric of her skirt, the scattered buttons of her shirt, and the remains of her robe that are haphazardly strewn across the room. 

Faint sounds register at the back of her mind. A heavy breath, mirroring her own, emanates from behind, accompanied by an erratic heartbeat that matches hers. Amidst it all, she picks up on Amycus’s forlorn groans, muffled by the surrounding darkness. Resilient ropes now bind his hands and feet, rendering him completely motionless.

“Get Y/N out of here,” a voice orders. It’s far away—at least, Y/N thinks so. But despite the fog around its edges, she can somehow sense the enmity lacing it. 

Before she can process the shadows creeping closer to her side, a robe is draped over her shoulders as arms wrap securely around her.

She thrashes against the man holding her, trying to repel his hands from her body. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says in a low octave. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I promise you. He can't touch you anymore.” 

The voice carries a bit of an edge, yet it’s the most soothing sound she’s heard all day. Her lips quiver as she internally fights with her thoughts, head spinning and shaking in defeat. 

The halls around her move fast, time seemingly irrelevant at this point. She’s crying and mumbling incoherently, burying her face in the fabric of this stranger’s clothes, which smell like a familiar blend of mint and citrus. 

The robe is wrapped tighter around her shoulders, and she receives a faint squeeze as she’s brought up a staircase. Words are whispered, a door is opened, and voices mingle with one another until a delicate tone enters her headspace.

“Draco, who’s that you’re carrying?” 

“It’s Y/N,” the male voice, the one belonging to Draco, replies. Draco kicks open a door and places Y/N on the bed. She wails even more at the action, curling herself into a ball—at this point, she doesn’t know if she should be relieved or terrified.

“What the hell happened to her?” 

“Lower your voice, Pansy! Can’t you see she’s scared enough?” 

Pansy stutters for a few seconds before asking again, “Who did this to her?” 

Draco hesitates, looking between the two young women. “Amycus,” he replies. And though it’s barely a mumble, it’s enough to send Y/N spiraling. 

Pansy’s jade eyes tread carefully as they peer over Y/N’s frail body. She sees the red marks on her hands and the blood that seeps from the cuts on her face. “Cruciatus?” she asks, but something in her tone makes it obvious that it’s just wishful thinking. 

“No,” Draco answers. Y/N’s sniffles and shudders fill the air as Pansy and Draco exchange silent glances. Y/N clutches her throat, rubbing it to try and get herself more oxygen. 

“What do we do?” 

Draco's footsteps echo as he retreats toward the door. “You're going to her clean up. If Theo hasn’t killed Amycus yet, I’m going to join him in his pursuit.”

There was something in that last line that clamped agony around Y/N’s heart, squeezing like a vice. She wept, only vaguely conscious of Pansy’s soothing touch in her hair and the remnants of Draco's anger looming around the room.

The mirror in the bathroom captures two girls in its glassy frame. One of them is put together while the other looks worse for wear. Y/N stares at her wild reflection, moroseness painting her irises. A tiny sob escapes her barely parted lips, and Pansy decides to tear Y/N’s attention away from the broken girl staring at them through the mirror. 

She softly holds Y/N's hand and helps her to the shower, turning her head when Y/N undresses and then carefully cleans her blotched skin. Once they’re done, she lends Y/N some pajamas and underwear, giving her the privacy and space to change into them before helping her dry her hair.

Wordlessly, Pansy leads Y/N away from the mirror. Her grip is firm as she swings open the bathroom door. Y/N squints against the sudden invasion of light from the room beyond. Her gaze takes in the expanse of her surroundings and the rich emerald hue of the Head Dorm's walls. Then, her eyes lock on two men. One with platinum blond hair and the other with brunette locks, both embracing the shadows with deadly intent in their fiery eyes.

She bristles, caught between shying away and clutching the attention she’s receiving from them. Y/N doesn’t dwell on their appearance for too long, afraid to develop the ability to read their eyes and stumble across the shame and pity possibly nestled within them. 

Pansy whispers something under her breath, which Y/N fails to hear under the barrage of despondency she finds herself in. She feels Pansy’s hesitant touch on her forearm, briefly catching her and Draco retreating away, the door to the room closing behind them in a soft thud. 

Silence runs freely around the room, undeterred by the confined space. Its loudness disturbs Y/N, forcing her to wince. She wills herself to say something, but all the words are lodged in her throat, searing it from the inside out.

Theodore takes a deep breath, the sound piercing the stillness in the air. But his words don’t leave his mouth the same way his gaze never paces beyond a fixed point on the ground. 

“Why are you not looking at me?” Y/N asks. She’s surprised that she’s articulated her thoughts even though she doesn’t have enough strength to speak.

Theodore shakes his head. “I can’t”. His words have finally forced his gaze away from the ground, although he’s refusing to settle it on her.

“I wouldn’t look at me either. I get it.” Y/N sniffles. Darkness clouds her sight. She’s tired and aching, barely finding her grip on reality. 

She wants to scream, and she wants to cry, but it’s like she doesn’t know how. Like her mainframe has been hijacked and forced to shut down. 

Something in her periphery catches her attention. Theodore is now standing before her, hands trembling by his sides. They move to embrace her waist, to hold her shoulders, to cup her face; but they never do. They only trace invisible lines that mirror her figure. It’s then that she notices the fray in his gaze. Instead of the rejection and the indifference she expected to find, there’s dejectedness, misery, and pain. 

“I would look at you forever if you let me,” Theodore answers with his hands hanging in the space between them. “If you would still allow me.”

“Touch me,” Y/N retorts. Hold me, find me, fix me, love me.

And Theodore does just that with unprecedented gentleness. He traces her cheeks with his thumb and pulls her by the waist closer to his side. His nose nuzzles her neck, breathing in her scent. His lips press against the shell of her ear, his warm breath penetrating her soul and sending a fond tingle down her spine. 

He touches her, not like she’s a porcelain doll or a bomb about to detonate. Theodore touches her like she’s the most precious piece of art he’s ever encountered, and he’s afraid that even one stumbled breath could force her colors away.

“I love you,” he confesses. A loan tear accompanies his declaration, inscribing the words on the fabric of Y/N’s soul. “And I am so sorry. So sorry, my love, for what my absence and negligence have put you through.”

“Theo…”

“No, Y/N. Don’t. Don’t try to say anything.” 

Theodore wipes her tears, gently tucking some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. Y/N nods, allowing her boyfriend to hoist her in his arms and carry her to bed. She hides her face in his neck, absorbing the lingering traces of his sandalwood perfume. 

When he places her on the bed, she notices the change in his demeanor as soon as she tangles her legs with his and rushes to press his hands against his chest. Her eyes fill with tears, and she fails to prepare herself for the rejection that she’s afraid might be rushing her way. 

To her astonishment, Theodore pulls her into a tighter hug, as if seeking a connection beyond the surface, binding together not only their skin but also the intricate layers below—souls, hearts, atoms.

“Did he…” Theodore pauses, choking on unspoken words. “Did he go far?”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and Draco came just in time.”

“Barely,” Theodore denies. A stolen glance gives Y/N a clear view of his clenched jaw and crestfallen expression. The war may be looming, yet to find its way to the Wizarding World, but it has already made a dominion in Theodore’s features. 

“Just in time.” Minutes pass while Y/N is cocooned protectively in between Theodore’s strong arms. They encase her, filling her being with the placidity and the tenderness that was robbed of her some time ago. Her eyes close, darkness not as fearful as it seemed now that Theodore’s hands are weaving through her hair, and his voice is carrying a tender lullaby. “How did you know?”

Theodore’s hands falter and the lullaby ends on an abrupt note. His arms pull Y/N closer to his chest as he ruefully explains what happened, “A Gryffindor boy found me. He was frightened and jittery. At first, I thought it was because Draco and I were standing together. Then he said something about Defense class, the Carrows, and the Cruciatus. Your name got suddenly tangled in the gruesomeness of it all, so I rushed to the class as far as I could." 

“They wanted me to hurt him,” Y/N whispers in a small voice.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

Theodore looks at her with glassy eyes. “I know you would never.” 

His hands sooth Y/N, featherless touches easing the altercation in her soul. She meets his gaze, heart shattering at the pain he harbors. She knows it’s not easy for Theodore to be a silent witness to torture and heartache, understanding his unconscious pursuit of absorbing pain and rooting it in his very being.

“Please,” she begins, “please, Theo. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t.”

He declines vehemently, “I promised to protect you from the darkness, within me and beyond me. And I have clearly done neither.”

You had no way of knowing! Y/N argued in her head. You, alone, cannot stop this madness! So many rebuttals swarmed her head. She wanted to pelt Theodore with every single one of them until some sense got knocked into him. “Darkness,” he says so loosely as if he’s ever exposed her to any of it. 

All her memories of Theodore exuded radiance, softness, and peace. He’s only ever steered her away from the darkness, whether it was from Umbridge’s rage back in their fifth year or Bellatrix’s terror at the end of their sixth. 

To hear him speak of himself like this, as if he’s one of them, a shadow branded by the mark of death, hurts her more than everything Amycus did to her. 

“What did you do to Amycus?”

The name causes Theodore’s heart to falter beneath the palm of Y/N’s hands. Her eyes trace the veins of his neck, astounded by the voraciousness of their color as his anger escalates. “Do not say that vermin’s name.” 

Darkness, Theodore would call it if he sees himself now. And yet, all the world is witnessing according to Y/N is a darker shade of love and concern: just as sincere, a lot more warm. 

“Carrow,” she concedes. “What did you do to Carrow?”

“I wanted to kill him,” Theodore answers, studying Y/N’s face for a reaction. “I almost killed him.” If he was looking for disgust or worse, fear, he couldn’t find it.

“And why didn’t you?”

“Draco called for Snape.”

Y/N hums, absentmindedly reaching for Theodore’s hand. He hesitates when he feels her fingers entwining with his, his entire body tensing up. Y/N whines, and he takes a deep breath. His fingers lace hers, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips. 

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, treasure. No one but that scum is. Snape said nothing. He bound his hands and escorted him to his office.”

“Good,” Y/N replies.

“That’s not all,” Theodore intercedes, catching her attention. She shifts in his arms, waiting for his next words with a bated breath. “We’re getting out of here.”

“What?” came Y/N’s question, loud, sharp, and clear. It resonated across the room, its intensity surprising her.

“I didn’t kill him,” Theodore admits. He’s moved now, body peering away from Y/N’s hold to better study her features. She keeps them the way they are, with no sign of the acrimony or the resentment she suspects Theodore is looking for. “But I uttered the curse. Draco countered it somehow, and it rebounded. Hit the wall instead. It cracked it, the same way I cracked every single bone in his body and watched him bleed.”

As the words fill the space between them, Y/N rushes to grab Theodore’s hands. She inspects them, surprised to find them bruising. How did I not notice this? She whimpers at her late realization—her neglect. But now that his marred skin is beneath the scrutiny of her gaze, she notices that the blue and purple hues are rather dull in comparison to his story.

Almost as if Theodore understood her silent concerns, he says, “Cruciatus.” Y/N bristles, though her body is traitorous. It jolts, feeling the residue of the invisible needles and acid-laced knives. “Sectumsempra and a number of other curses that flew out of my mouth without thought when I saw you lying on the ground, bloody, bruised, broken. Torn apart by a mediocre middle-aged man, who deserves nothing but to be decapitated, torn limb by limb, until there’s not even a speck of his ashes left on the—”

“Theo,” Y/N calls. Her voice quivers, mirroring the tremble in her body provoked by those words. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Theodore sniffs, head bending down. 

Y/N rushes to answer, shaking her head violently. “No. I can’t… I can’t watch you tear yourself apart over something you had no control over.”

“I—”

“Listen to me! Listen to me and not the lies inside your head. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it burn? More than a Fienfyre cast by the Dark Lord himself. But you weren’t there—no, Theo, come back to me and stop traveling in time inside your head.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” Theo defended. “Merlin, Y/N. I was supposed to be there! To stop all of this from happening. You’re in pain more than I am. So, stop subduing my anger!”

“I’m subduing your self-deprecation! I’m not blaming you, and I will not fan the flames of your anger. You had no way, no way, of knowing Carrow would do this.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he answers with a little less fight and a lot more shame. 

“And you did, Theo,” Y/N assures, bringing herself closer to his side. “You got me out. You saved me. In time.”

“Barely!” Theodore screams, a deluge of tears running down his cheeks and burying his resolve in their undertow. “But I will save you this time. I’ll get you out. Both of us. I’ll take you away, somewhere you won’t be judged for your blood or your mistake in choosing me.”

“You’re not a mistake,” Y/N refutes, begging him to see. “Look at you. You call yourself a vision of darkness when your love and care are shining through.”

“My love is darkness, viciousness, and cruelty.” It’s almost as if he’s the one begging her to understand.

Tears cascade down Y/N’s cheeks, the saltiness and bitterness of them incomparable to Theodore’s words. “Your love is fierceness,” Y/N professes, taking Theodore’s breath away, “seamlessness, and warmth.”

“I made you live through pain,” Theodore pleads, hoping she agrees. But she doesn't.

“And I will live after it. With you.”

The confession shatters the last of Theodore’s resolve. He pulls Y/N closer, resting his chin atop her head and enveloping her in a secure embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he cries. His fingers weave through her hair, gripping the back of her head, anchoring himself in her presence—convincing himself that she’s here. “You are so strong, treasure. Stronger than life and death, brighter than light, and fiercer than shadows. I love you, my Y/N. And I swear on your head and on my mother’s last breath that I will protect you even if I have to do the unforgivable. No one will ever hurt you ever again.”

“I know,” Y/N nods as Theodore kisses the crown of her head. Each breath he takes, every word he utters, stitches through her soul, mending the threads of herself. “And I love you all the more for it.”

“You’ve endured a war. I’ll be damned if I let you face another,” Theodore promises, capturing Y/N’s lips and seamlessly merging his soul with hers.

Tomorrow remains uncertain, and control extends only so far across the horizon. Yet, with Theodore by her side, Y/N finds the darkness considerably less formidable. Even if he's willing to commit the unforgivable to shield her, forgiveness is a given. His love is the tranquility that follows the tempest, and she's ready to navigate through destruction with Theodore.

I never expected to write about a topic as painful and sensitive as SA or rape.

Hearing the multiple accounts of women around me made me see how these experiences are prevalent yet scarcely communicated. When I wrote this piece, it was with no intention to diminish the seriousness of the issue but rather use this platform as a conduit to raise the matter and bring it to light. Whether you’ve been personally impacted by this disheartening situation or witnessed someone close to you go through this, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are incredibly brave for enduring this, and there is no reason to feel ashamed. You lived through it and will live after it with even more fierceness and courage than you've ever had.

If you ever feel like talking, please know that I am here to listen, without judgment or reservation. 🤍

All-Fandom Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

[fantisyoflove]

So You Wanna Play With Magic - part 17

WC: 2,765

I am continuing to work on this and edit as I go but of course I am going to miss some things.

Thank you for your patients

Draco waited in the kitchen but he heard Harry and Seamus muttering together. ‘Was it about him? What were they saying?’ He was about to get up and go eavesdrop but Harry was already coming back to the kitchen.

Harry leaned against the wall, arms folded, looking over Draco. Draco lifted his chin defiantly and held his gaze.

“Y/n wants you to work on using the bond.”

Draco queried an eyebrow, “That was clever with getting Seamus to leave. You don't trust him to know?”

“I think the less people who know, the better.” Harry didn’t mean to sound defensive but something about Draco’s tone made him bristle.

Draco seemed to accept that answer, he rubbed his hands down his thighs and leaned his elbows on his knees. “And we need to visit Severus.”

Harry barked a laugh, “We? You're funny Malfoy.”

“You won’t go?”

“Snape and I don't exactly get along.” Harry was in a mood now and getting snippy. He knew he should drop this conversation and walk away.

Draco noticed the shift in Harry’s attitude and the stiffness along his shoulders, he pursed his lips. “So Seamus?”

Harry huffed a laugh, “Yea, Seamus.”

The silence was thick, the unspoken palpable.

“How?” Draco whispered, he regretted it immediately, he didn't mean to say that outloud.

Harry looked surprised, “You’re serious?”

‘In for a knut, in for a galleon’ Draco thought bitterly, “Yea, Potter, I’m serious.” Draco was afraid that if he spoke again he would spill every dark secret he’d been holding on to since he agreed to let you stay with Harry too.

[]

It was the night after the marriage contract was signed. Draco went back to the manor, his father was waiting.

“Where is your blushing bride to be?” Lucius asked, he was standing in the doorway his cane held across his hips in both hands.

“At her house, our new place isn’t quite ready to move in together yet.” Draco lied smoothly, he had gotten very good at lying to people especially his father.

Lucius hummed his agreement. His cane and heels clicked on the marble floors. Draco clenched his teeth, he hated that sound. He would ensure his future home, wherever it was, would be carpeted room to room. Lucius put a hand on his son’s shoulder and spun him around forcefully. His cane jabbed into Draco’s chest, he grimaced but held back a cry.

“And she seems more… agreeable now?” Lucius hissed.

“Yes, Father.” Draco bit out glaring into his fathers eyes.

Lucius was suspicious but he nodded then thrusted his cane once again into Draco’s chest. Draco was sure he felt his sternum crack under the blow. He bit his tongue and held back any noise that threatened to spill forward.

“Good.” Lucius growled. He watched as Draco walked stiffly up to his room.

He lay in bed wishing he knew more healing spells. The skin had broken and a deep black bruise was already blooming on his chest. He couldn't take in deep breaths yet without a sharp pain.

He kept thinking the whole day over. Everytime he thought about the way Harry kissed you he wished it was him. Then he fought with his own mind because ‘of course he meant that I wished he was in Harry’s place! Not… not in yours.’ The vivid mental images of you turned into fantasies of Harry. Harry’s lips. Harry’s hands. The way you felt when Harry pulled you into his arms and kissed you. The way he, inevitably, felt as well.

‘That's it!’ He had thought. ‘I'm not attracted to Potter! No, how stupid could I be. Clearly these were your feelings that were just in his head because of the bond!’

He felt much better after coming to this conclusion. He was able to fuck his fist knowing that if, if, he did think about it being Potter it was only because of your feelings not his!

[]

Harry sighed, content, at the memory. “Well, it was fourth year. Seamus and I were studying for something in charms and he asked me if I ever kissed someone. Like I said he had a way of bringing things up so you figured out what was happening on your own. Couldn’t exactly just ask a bloke if he was gay then could you.”

Draco found himself nodding, especially in a group of purebloods.

“It was before they announced the champions for the triwizard tournament. I had thought about it, hormones then and everything, but told him no I hadn’t.” Harry laughed for a moment before continuing his story. “He said he hadn’t either and asked if it was something you should practice for like charms.” Harry’s posture was relaxed again and he was smiling broadly now. He moved across the kitchen to sit down next to Draco again.

“I laughed, nervously, because I didn’t know where this was going. We just went back to studying. But it was like an earwig, I just kept thinking about kissing someone. He did it on purpose, I didn’t know at the time. But as we were cleaning up I asked him ‘If you were going to practice with someone who would you practice with?’ He just shrugged and I .. I thought I was bloody mad because all I could think about was kissing Seamus. He just smiled at me and I kissed him! He made me think it was all my idea.” Harry laughed again. He wiped his eyes after a few moments.

“We would ‘practice’ after doing homework. Sometimes instead of homework. We didn't.. Well we didn't “ Harry coughed and rubbed the back of his head before pressing on his neck. “Have sex until fifth year. He basically talked me though the whole thing, I guess he was already … familiar with how things worked.”

“So then why are you with y/n?”

Harry smirked, “Sometimes people like boys and girls, Malfoy.” And then he winked. Gods above Draco was in trouble.

[]

The words kept replaying in his mind.

‘... he smiled at me and I kissed him. He smiled at me and I kissed him.’ Seamus just had to smile at Harry and Harry was throwing himself at Seamus.

Draco through an arm over his eyes hoping to get some sleep tonight. He had spent the rest of the evening sending things down the bond.

‘Where are you?’

‘Why were you trapped?’

‘How long are you going to be gone?’

‘I miss you.’

It took much of his magic and concentration and he hoped it worked. He felt drained but he couldn't get his mind to turn off. He kept thinking about it.

About kissing Harry.

[]

Day twelve

You were working early in the morning when you heard Draco in the back of your mind.

‘Where are you?’

‘In Egypt, I promise everything is fine.’

You waited a bit but didn't get a response right away. You didn't know exactly how long it took for things to travel down the bond. Did it follow the same rules every time you said something down the bond? Did it change if he was sleeping when it reached him? What about the time difference? What is the time difference between London and Egypt?

You were at lunch by the time you heard from him again.

‘Why were you trapped?’

‘A tunnel collapsed. Nothing serious, just one of the muggle Egyptologists got hurt. Everyone else is safe.’

It felt like a muscle, using the bond. Like the more you used it the easier it got to say things. You were able to hold on to the connection for longer periods of time. You wanted to push yourself but decided to wait until bed. It was tiring using so much magic. You hoped it would get easier.

You had been hesitant to travel far into the tunnel and Rakepick was thankfully understanding. You worked on cataloging and sorting paperwork up top. The team was working faster now that they found which three spells worked best for the items.

You felt useless but Rakepick said it was perfect.

“I haven’t been in the field in years! You know the paperwork as well as I do, just make sure you set it aside so I can review it and sign off before we send it in.”

You gave her a thumbs up. She skipped, literally skipped, off to the tombs. You covered your smile with some papers.

You felt the bond vibrate, maybe not vibrate, but tremble. It was hard to explain. A shiver went down her spine just before you heard him again.

‘How long are you going to be gone?’

You took a look around, there wasn't too much left. You counted the items left, only eight, but with Rakepick in the field things might move slower. You liked her but something about the higher ups in the field made people second guess themselves and go slower to make sure there were no mistakes.

‘I couldn’t say. I hope not much longer.’

You started feeling down along the bond, pushing on the edges and trying different things. When you spoke you felt the words travel down and away from you. You tried picturing something and sending it down the bond but the image just stayed in your mind.

"Great, so no pictures.’ You thought bitterly.

You shivered again,

‘I miss you.’

That made you smile. He missed you!

‘I miss you too, Draco.’

[]

Draco couldn’t stand it any longer. You had said he could seek out others. You had let him go with Pansy. You were with Harry. It made sense that if Draco kissed Harry you would be okay with it! Right? He could ask, but that felt too real. He had convinced himself that if he kissed Harry it would get him out of his system. He just needed to see if it was really his feelings or yours in his mind.

If he kissed Harry it would feel wrong. He wouldn’t like it and he could put this whole business behind him!

He got out of bed and stood there shifting from foot to foot.

‘In for a knut, in for a galleon.’

He stopped downstairs to where Harry was laying on the couch. Draco ran out of steam when he reached the living room. Harry was shirtless, ‘typical’ Draco thought, and fast asleep. He snored lightly as the TV flickered on in the corner of the room.

Draco took a deep breath to calm himself and then went to the kitchen for a glass of water. He drank it down and leaned against the counter lost in his thoughts.

He saw Harry sit up suddenly, Draco held his breath.

Harry stretched and got up to turn the TV off then in the dark he walked to the kitchen. Draco doesn't even have time to warn him before he startles.

“Circe alive and well Draco! You should get a bell.” Harry snaps. He pushes up his glasses to rub his eyes. “Why are you standing here in the dark?”

Draco sneers but Harry wouldn't be able to see it. “It wasn't dark when I came down here! I got a drink of water and then you woke up and turned off the glowing box.”

Harry snorts and takes the glass from Draco’s hand. Their fingers brush against each other and Draco sucks in a breath. His eyes watch intently as Harry taps his wand to the glass to fill it and drinks the whole thing in one gulp.

“Ah.” He sighs. Harry reaches to set the glass on the counter next to Draco.

Draco, using all of his regal upbringing and pose, panics.

The adrenaline from early rushes back to him and he remembers what he had come down here for in the first place. And here he is. Potter. Practically naked before him.

Draco uses both hands to cup either side of Harry’s face and yanks him closer.

Harry makes a startled noise that dies as their lips crash together.

At first it is way too forced and harsh but Harry leans into it.

The glass crashes to the ground.

Harry slips his hands around Draco’s waist and slides his hands up Draco’s sides. He follows along his arms and guides Draco’s hands away from his face. Harry tilts his head up further to reach and Draco follows eagerly with.

Harry’s beard feels odd against Draco’s skin, this is definitely different from kissing you. His hands find their way down across Harry’s chest and rest there.

Draco is about to pull away when Harry’s hands slip into his hair and pull him down further to kiss him deeper.

Draco thought he liked kissing, he was rather smug and that he was actually very good at kissing. But if he was good then of course the boy wonder was amazing.

‘Perfect Potter.’ Draco snapped in his mind. He was craving more, he needed something.

Harry took one hand from Draco’s hair and grabbed a handful of his ass simultaneously thrusting Draco’s hips against his.

Draco gasped and pulled away. He looked startled at Harry, his lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flaming red. He took a step back and stepped on a shard of glass. Hissing in pain he took off as fast as he could for the spare room upstairs.

“Draco, wait!” Harry called. He turned back to fix the broken glass and then ran up the stairs after Draco.

Harry hit the spell on the door and couldn't enter the room.

“Draco!” He hit the ward on the door with his fist. “Draco, come on, let me in.”

“Go away!” Draco snarled, there was a lift in his voice.

“Please, at least let me heal your foot.”

“I can heal myself!” He snapped back.

Harry leaned his forehead against the doorframe and took a breath. “Draco, please.”

The spell fell away and Harry could see Draco sitting in the chair with his foot propped up on his knee, bleeding.

Harry rushed in and dropped to his knees in front of Draco, “Heal yourself my arse!” Harry snapped under his breath and began muttering a spell to bring the skin together. His magic whispered along Draco’s skin, like the crackles of lightning in the distance. He was surprised his hair wasn't standing on end.

Harry banished the blood off the floor and summoned a wet washcloth to wipe off Draco’s foot. “The skin will be tender for a bit so’s best not to use magic on it right away.” He explained as he finished cleaning him up.

Harry leaned back on his heels and banished the bloody cloth as well.

Draco just stared hard at Harry. The chosen one, on his knees before him, cleaning his feet. He knew somewhere the fates were laughing at him.

“Draco..” Harry started but Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry once more. Slow and sure, before pulling away.

Draco was about to say something when a sharp cold entered his mind causing him to shiver. Your voice echoed in his head.

‘In Egypt, I promise everything is fine.’

‘A tunnel collapsed. Nothing serious, just one of the muggle Egyptologists got hurt. Everyone else is safe.’

‘I couldn’t say. I hope not much longer.’

‘I miss you too, Draco.’

Each statement was followed by a short pause before the next one began.

“Draco? Draco? What's wrong?” Harry is still on his knees but now he is leaning in Draco’s lap shaking his shoulders.

“I’m fine!” Draco snaps. A cold rushing down his back, and it's not from the bond.

“Y/n was responding to my messages from early, along the bond.” He started down at where Harry had rested his hands on his thighs and cursed himself thoroughly. Would you be able to feel anything that just happened? Would you know? He would have to tell you because the way Potter was looking at him right now… It wasn't going to end here.

[]

You had fallen asleep finally when you woke with a sharp stab in your chest. The vision swam before your eyes.

Draco standing in the kitchen.

Harry in front of him.

Draco suddenly grabs hold of Harry and pulls him into a kiss.

They are kissing, really kissing, in the kitchen.

Harry is startled at first, it seems, but then he starts leading Draco. Deepening the kiss, pulling him closer.

Harry grabs onto Draco’s backside and presses them closer together.

This seems to scare Draco because he breaks the kiss and tries to back away.

The scene fades.

You are gasping for breath when it does.

[]

[sundrop-writes]

My Bleeding Heart

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary:

When Draco finds out that you are pregnant, he can't bring himself to be happy about the news because he doesn't want to bring a child into this wartorn world just to be another pawn in the Dark Lord's games. So, then and there, he makes a very important decision to risk everything in order to protect you and his future child.

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage. Angst (with a Fluffy Ending). Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 3,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is pregnant in this fic; this is set during Deathly Hallows and there are a lot of themes from that era - death, blood purity ideals, general violence, murder, mentions of Draco being tasked with killing Dumbledore; Draco and the reader live in an environment where they fear for their lives because they don't believe in Death Eater values completely and fear being killed for it; Draco and the reader are in an arranged marriage meant to carry on blood purity - but they have fallen in love in the marriage; the reader is a pureblood, but I have not mentioned her being related to any canon characters, so her appearance/race is not defined; general emotional angst - Draco fears for his own life, your life, and the fate of your unborn child if they are born into pureblood society; in the first half, there is some arguing/tension between Draco and the reader (but it's mostly due to the emotional tension of their situation); mentions of Dumbledore's death; non detailed mentions of sex (that's how we got the baby, duh) (sadly no smut); passing mention of abortion/pregnancy termination (they both want the child but fear for the child's safety in this environment); semi-graphic mentions of consensually inflicted injuries - Draco gets the reader to cut off the skin with his Dark Mark on it so that he can't be tracked or summoned with it; these warnings make it seem like a really dark fic but the ending is really fluffy I promise; toward the end, the reader and Draco have a toddler who refers to them as 'Mummy' and 'Daddy', and I think that is about it.

Author's Notes: The prompt of 'character finds out you are pregnant' was originally from the fluff prompts list, but because this is Draco, I couldn't help but to throw some angst in here. Because I imagine that if Draco was still living with his parents and surrounded by Death Eaters and the blood purity ideals, he would be very hesitant to want a child of his own because he wouldn't want a child to be tainted by all of it the way that he had been. Because at a certain point, the pride he felt turned sour. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy because this does get fluffy toward the end.

...

Terror. 

That was the very first thing Draco could tangibly say that he was feeling. 

The last two years of his life had been a sickening rollercoaster of utter chaos, and quite frankly, he had become numb to it all. He had to force himself to be numb, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived. And currently, survival was his only feasible goal. But this - this news touching his ears was one thing that woke up his senses from that numbness and sent him rocketing into the harshness of reality. This made him feel again, in the worst ways. Suddenly he was nauseous, shaking, blood rocketing against his ear drums, creating a harsh thumping in seconds. 

He wished that he had heard you wrong. 

“Are - are you sure?” He stuttered out, feeling his hands becoming exceptionally clammy as he clutched them around nothing, his feet unsteady on the ground. 

You saw him becoming remarkably pale for someone who was already so papery toned on a normal day, and you worried that he was going to faint. You worried that his harsh reaction meant that he hated the idea of you being pregnant - that he was angry with you. Of course, you realised that the fault wasn’t all on you, that was just nature. But part of you thought that he put the onus on you to take care of birth control, using potions or spells, because he had been worried about so many other things since the start of your relationship. 

Up until now, you weren’t sure if you wanted what they wanted. You weren’t naive enough to look beyond the reason you had married Draco in the first place. You were there to produce the next pureblood heir with him. Originally, you had thought it was romantic, in a sense. But when you had met Draco’s family, the people he was surrounded with, the people who called themselves Death Eaters - you realised that it most certainly wasn’t an ideal environment to bring a child into. 

Killing at the drop of a hat, torturing, murdering the innocent - those weren’t ideals that you wanted your child to be brought up on. 

“Draco, sit down, please,” You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to usher him toward one of the expensive chairs sitting in the corner of his room. 

You had stolen him away for a rare moment of privacy between meetings and Death Eaters traipsing around the house. These days, his parents always demanded that the two of you make good on appearances because you were supposed to be the sweet young couple, the future of the pureblood line. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered the question much more harshly, the words hissed through his lips like pure venom as he desperately waited for you to confirm it. 

He let himself be guided by you and collapsed down into the chair, sitting with his head in his hands, ruffling up his usually neat, slicked-back hair with rough, stressful fingers through it. 

Your stomach twisted with your own unique stress as you watched him. You hadn’t seen him so distraught since his first failed attempt on the mission he had been given last year. 

“I’m sure.” You said. “I went to the apothecary and got one of the test potions-” 

“A store bought test potion?” Draco hissed. 

He gave you the harshest glare that you had ever seen from him, which was saying something considering the looks of pure disdain he had given you upon first meeting. His jaw was set so tightly that it looked as though his molars were going to crush in on themselves at any moment. 

Your posture shrunk back, desperately trying to hide from his invasive stare. You wished that you could have burrowed under the floorboards at that point. 

You knew that it was fear and panic about the situation at large, all the death you had been surrounded with compounding onto him. But you hated that he was inadvertently taking it out on you. 

After a moment of you not speaking, Draco continued. 

“I should have made it myself, if you had just told me-” 

“Yes, and nobody would have become suspicious if you were mulling around, gathering the ingredients for a pregnancy test potion.” You snapped back. 

Draco’s face grew even more sickly at this, and you knew that you were both silently on the same page - nobody else in the house could know that you were pregnant. If they even suspected it, then it was over. 

He heaved a sigh, gathering all of his thoughts before he chose one to bring to open air. 

“Were you seen?” He asked, still tearing into you indignantly, talking to you as though you were stupid. 

“No.” You told him, entirely certain. “I wore a large cloak with a hood, it was dark. Nobody recognized me.” 

He gave you a distinct frown that said he was unsure of the truth in your words, and you rushed to trample over his potential sarcastic remark with your own. 

“I suppose they don’t recognize me when I’m not on your arm, anyway.” 

You scoffed out the last part, talking about this fact with distaste even though in actuality it was something you loved. You felt safe when you were with Draco. You couldn’t imagine facing the scowling faces without his arm around you. 

But you knew that’s all you were in this society - Draco’s wife. That’s all you had been labelled as since you had been shipped over from America by your godmother. 

You were the last of your noble pureblood family’s line. Your parents had been killed by Aurors in the name of Voldemort’s cause during the first war. After their deaths, you had been sent to live with your godmother in America, never truly understanding how your parents were killed or why.

The whole reason you had met Draco in the first place - an arranged marriage. Something that would have honoured your parents, apparently. 

The Malfoys had been looking for a pureblood match around Draco’s age, and they had once known your parents, and thought of you as a good prestigious pureblood girl to marry their son. It didn’t take them long to find you, even though you didn’t mingle in pureblood society like they did. (Something they found to be a big shame and a horror upon your parents’ memory.) 

Your godmother sold you out for a ‘dowry’ of two thousand Galleons, and from there, your life became a living hell. 

Strangely enough, Draco had been the one anchor keeping you alive in it. 

Most would say that it was because he was kind by comparison, but truly - he was easy to fall in love with when he was compassionate, sweet, loving in the smallest ways that made you feel safe during some of the most hectic times of your life. 

Draco had never intended to get attached to you. 

But like anything in his life - pining for the crumbs of his father’s approval, digging under all the proprietary for a single genuine gesture of affection from his mother - Draco’s heart kept beating as much as he tried to turn it off. He convinced himself that he was solid stone, but apparently, you were the pickaxe that made him crumble to pieces. After meeting him, you burrowed through the layers of snide coldness and dark humour that he used in an effort to put you off and you found that still beating heart. That soft thing that he hated so much about himself. 

You dug that heart out of his chest, and - despite his best efforts to fight you off, you nursed that heart back to health. And you gave him the closest thing he had experienced to ‘love’ in years. 

On the day the two of you got married, when Dumbledore’s dead body was barely cold, Draco said his vows to you with nothing but honesty in his heart. And that night, he made love to you with intense passion, held you in his arms as though you might slip away if he didn’t grip onto you tight enough. And only after you had fallen asleep in his arms, was when he allowed himself to cry. Because he knew that they now had one more way to make him hurt if they wanted to. They could kill him, they could stop the breath in his lungs, but he would die a million deaths through you being hurt in the smallest of ways before that happened. 

And now - with this utterly horrifying revelation, they had new ways to hurt him. He should have died a lone man. He should have let them kill him instead of agreeing to any of this in the first place. He shouldn’t have learned to love - he shouldn’t have grown these new limbs that they could cut off savagely and tear apart in front of him. 

“I got another one.” You announced when the room had grown too quiet, silent tears streaming down Draco’s face as he sat in intense contemplation. “Another test potion. An extra. I figured you’d want to see it with your own eyes.” 

Even though the two of you had only met two short years ago - you knew him too well. You knew that he would want visual confirmation before his own eyes. 

“Get it. Please.” He said, trying his best not to let his throat drown in these tears. He wouldn’t be reduced to sobbing. 

You went to your cloak, which was hung on a hook in an opposite corner of the room, and grabbed the potion vial out of your pocket. Your shoes clacking against the floor made a terribly hollow soundtrack to the whole thing as you ripped off the small tag that was tied to the neck of the potion bottle and handed it to Draco. He read the instructions on it while you uncorked the potion. 

It was simple: you put some sample of your DNA in the bottle - a hair, a small bit of blood, something like that. And then if the potion changed colours to glow white, it meant that you were pregnant. If it made no change from its original, soupy grey colour - then you weren’t pregnant. 

He watched, holding his breath as you plucked a single hair from your head and then dropped it into the now open top of the bottle. When the hair made contact with the liquid, it bubbled slightly as it dissolved. Then - after only a moment, the bottle began to shake roughly in your hand as it changed colour, and surely enough - it glowed brightly white. 

You were definitely pregnant. 

Draco’s nausea increased. And then - in a moment, he felt a fierce sense of protectiveness wash over him. It was as though he had been slapped sharply across the face, woken up from the blind numbness he had been feeling. He knew at that moment that he needed to take action. He couldn’t simply stand by and let things happen around him anymore. He could simply sit around hoping for safety, hoping for some miracle to save the two of you. 

“Happy?” You scoffed. 

You took Draco’s lack of words as a negative - a sign that he was certainly unhappy with the news. 

Not that you were entirely thrilled under the present circumstances - you were scared, stressed, and hating it because you had always wanted children, but not like this. 

You placed the potion down on the nearest table and stormed off to the bathroom attached to Draco’s bedroom. He chased you, catching the door before you could slam it closed and lock it. 

You conceded to his movements quickly and simply turned to face the sink, unable to look at him right now. You turned it on, splashing cold water on your face, trying your best not to freak out because clearly he was already playing that role. He walked up behind you, gently pressing his body into yours. Even under these circumstances, you found his presence so comforting. You found his body behind you to be nothing but a wall of safety, and you couldn’t help but to lean back into him, your eyes still tightly closed. 

Draco reached around you and gently pressed his hand into your stomach - you held back tears of your own now. Clearly, you were both thinking the same thing. Thinking of the unborn child that you both needed to protect. You placed your hand over his, seeking comfort in his touch as he flattened a palm across your stomach. 

It was a world shattering revelation to know that his child was resting under his hand. 

“No one can find out about this.” He muttered quietly into your neck. 

It was something Draco dreaded - them finding out about your pregnancy. 

This is what they had been waiting for. This was the reason for the marriage in the first place. This was the pureblood heir - this was their chess piece. 

Draco wouldn’t let his child become another pawn in their games. 

“It’s still early.” You choked out quietly. “There are other potions. We could-” You choked on your own words, unable to even speak it aloud. 

Draco dug his fingers into the fabric of your shirt protectively, quite insulted at the insinuation. 

“No.” He replied, his voice rough with anger. “Unless the idea of being pregnant with my child is so utterly horrible to you-” 

“It’s not that!” 

You screeched, forcefully turning in his arms, wanting to face him. He kept one hand on your hip, and moved the other up to gently grasp your cheek, thumbing away your tears as they gathered. It was that gentleness that always got you. His natural instinct to comfort you.You leaned into his touches as you continued. 

“I want this baby more than anything. I - I’m just terrified they’ll see that as a weakness.” 

You knew it was the truth. Especially when Draco’s sullen face confirmed it. In this circle, loving anything or anyone was a weakness that could be exploited. 

Draco leaned in and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting the single, solitary moment of peace wash over you. 

“I’ll protect you.” He declared, his voice whisper-quiet, but nearly broken with the intensity of his words. “Both of you.” He added this on as he brushed his palm over your stomach once again. 

Again, you laid your hand over his, uttering quiet assurances of love toward your unborn child. 

“Draco, how-?” 

He didn’t let you finish the question. 

“We’ll leave. We’re leaving. Tonight.” He declared firmly. 

It was something you had suggested before - to protests from Draco, many scathing comments poking holes in your plans. His parents would be killed if he left. At this point, he had to surrender to the idea that they could take care of themselves - that they had made their bed and they had to lie in it. But now that he had the Dark Mark, they would be able to find him, wherever he went. But he would find some harsh way around that. 

Now that he had so much more at stake, he couldn’t care if his parents died because of his actions. He had so much more that he had to protect. 

“I’ll cut off my bloody arm if I have to.” Draco mumbled quietly, and then turned sharply from the bathroom, leaving to pack. 

… 

“Daddy, Mummy’s not being fair! She won’t let me play with the jellyfish!” 

“Draco, can you please explain to your daughter that jellyfish are dangerous and she can’t play with them?” You replied, trying your best to haul your toddler away from the rough rocks at the water’s edge where the creature had washed up. 

“Love, why don’t you come and play with your toys over here?” Draco posed, trying to draw her attention toward something else. She was much like himself as a child - determined, stubborn, and wouldn’t do anything unless she believed it was her own idea first. “Come and show Daddy how to build a sand castle, hmm?” 

She seemed to perk up at this. She was clever, and over-eager to show off her skills. More than eager to show her father how to do something properly if she felt that he wasn’t doing it right. This happened with everything from the way he spread marmalade on his toast to the way he tied his shoes - something she had just learned how to do that she was eager to show off her expertise in.

As she tore out of your arms and trudged across the beach to scoop some sand into her bucket, Draco had to be thankful as he watched you follow slowly behind. Purely thankful of the fact that the biggest danger your daughter had to worry about was something like a stray jellyfish washed up on shore. 

Three years after escaping a life of servitude toward the Dark Lord in England, you and Draco enjoyed a quiet life with your daughter Aster in France. 

You sat down beside Draco with a huff, picking up the book you had previously been reading. You flashed him a grateful smile as he listened to Aster’s detailed instructions about how they should build their castle. He gave you a wide grin in return, and you felt your insides tingle. His smile used to be something as rare as a Basilisk, but now he wore it proudly and more often - he wore his happiness without restraint. 

With the short-sleeved, light linen shirt that he had on for the beach, the scar on his forearm was fully visible. It reminded you of the brave choices he had made on that night three years ago. 

You had convinced Draco not to cut off his arm completely, but the two of you knew that the Dark Mark needed to go. Otherwise, the two of you could never run far enough, you would have nowhere to hide. So now he sported a large scar where you had held him down and cut the skin off with a sharp knife. That night, his parents had found his room empty, save for the flap cut-off skin in the middle of his bloody bedroom floor. Luckily, you had a talent for healing spells and Draco had been able to knick a few good potions from his family’s cupboards before the two of you left. 

On the outside, it was jagged and ugly. But when he looked at it, it reminded him of nothing but freedom - of the love you had committed to him that day, to your unborn daughter. 

With a couple thousand Galleons in gold taken from his parents’ stash, the two of you started a new life. You were untraceable and happy. And though there was intense relief when you read in the papers that Potter had succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord and that meant the war was over - the two of you didn’t have any plans to go back to England anytime soon. 

Not when your new life was this good. 

“-and see, you need to dig down until you find the sand that’s wet, that makes a good castle-” Aster drawled on, piercing her toy shovel into the ground frantically as she spoke. 

Draco nodded, giving her a smile as he followed her instructions. “Yes, yes. I see. Very smart girl.” 

He had gotten the two of you away from that life, and not for a moment had your daughter ever known the kind of pain or fear that you had. 

“Daddy’s learning a lot today, isn’t he?” You remarked, giving Draco a sly grin. 

“Good thing I’ve got this smart girl here to teach me,” He said, leaning over and giving Aster a kiss on the forehead. 

That was another thing that made you fall even deeper in love with him - the droves of affection he gave to his daughter. Now that he wasn’t being watched so closely, now that he wasn’t expected to be the picture perfect son, he could love her exactly how he wanted to. He didn’t have to worry about propriety or appearing weak. 

Aster giggled at this, and Draco blew raspberries on her cheek before kissing her again. She then rallied Draco up to go to the shoreline for a bucket of water. As you watched them walk hand in hand, you felt your heart ache from how overwhelmingly full of love you were. 

Somehow, you found yourself endlessly thankful for the rocky road of fate that had brought you here.

[latoyalestrange]

spin the bottle

d. malfoy x f!reader

Summary:  On a boring ride to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts express, your Slytherin friends come up with an idea for a game to pass the time.

words: idk

warnings: lil spicy, nothing smutty. as always minors dni. this is a blurb i wrote a few years ago and just getting around to posting it here. i didnt revise it so be warned.

      "Guys," Pansy sighed and slumped in her seat. "I'm bored,"

    " Agreed," Goyle chimed with a mouthful of licorice. Draco was visibly annoyed. He hated hearing other people complain. You sat quietly, the odd one out of the group. You didn't have many close friends at Hogwarts, but mingled with everyone. Your true friends were nowhere to be found on the express, so you settled to sit with Draco and his posse. Even though you were friends with the Golden Trio, Draco never made an enemy out of you. Mostly because you stayed quiet, but it could also be in part caused by secret feelings of Draco's. You were nearly everything he wanted. Pureblood, smart, and you kept your opinions close to your chest. For some Draco always admired that about you. He also thought of you as a way to annoy Potter. If he had you, it would be a way to show Potter that he was a better man. After the silence ended, Pansy perked up in her seat next to Draco. 

    "I've got an idea! Let's play spin the bottle!" You looked nervously around at the other occupants of the train cart. Blaise, Goyle, Pansy, and Draco liked the idea.

    "I get to go first," Draco sat up and snatched the butter beer bottle out of Pansy's hands.

    "Oh, of course, Daddy's boy gets to go first," She teased, rolling her eyes. You stifled a giggle.

    "Piss off, Pansy," He huffed, his eyes narrowing.

    "Go on, then," She nudged his arm forward with her elbow. He placed the bottle onto the table and with no hesitation, he spun it around. A lump formed in your throat and you could feel your stomach fill with butterflies. The bottle spun slower and slower until it finally stopped. It pointed at you, no doubt. The boys in the compartment sounded their whistles and "oooo"'s. Pansy looked shocked. You had a feeling she was repressing anger.

    "Well then, let's leave them to it," She announced to the boys. Your eyes widened.

    "W-What?" You felt as if the wind was nocked out of you. You couldn't meet Draco's eyes out of nervousness, but he was staring at you, and with a smirk. "What do you mean, 'Leave us'?"

    "Oh, don't you know? That's how we play this game around here, right boys?" Goyle and Blaise nodded, almost as if they were afraid of what would happen if they didn't agree. "Come on then," They followed her out of the compartment like ducklings. You blinked hard and gulped as you heard the compartment door shut. Draco stood up; you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. He stood in front of you for a moment, then turned, but only to shut the blinds all around the compartment. He sat back down, opposite to you.

    "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," He stared down at his lap and played with his ringed thumbs. A wave of relief fell over you. You looked up at him, but all you saw was a lonely, insecure boy. Suddenly, his rough personality was just a front. This was real. Now filled with sympathy, you got up and sat next to him. You knew exactly what it felt like to know no one knew the real you, and you were glad you got to see this side of him. The side that no one got to see.

    "Draco?" He didn't look up at you, almost too ashamed.

    "Hm?" Was his only reply.

    "Kiss me," You felt his body tense under your comforting hand. You were the first person to actually accept the real him. He turned to meet your gaze with a questioning expression.

    "Kiss me," You repeated. He fixed his posture towards you and placed a gentle hand on your cheek. He slowly leaned into you and locked his sot lips onto yours. Everyone knew Draco as hard and tough, but his kiss was just the opposite. Gentle, almost as if he had loved you for years. When he broke away from you, he kept his hand on your cheek and pressed his forehead against yours. You took this as a sign to take initiative and placed your mirroring hand on his jaw and pulled him in once more. He wrapped his other arm around your neck and pulled you deeper and deeper into him. Now on top of him, barely keeping balance on the narrow booth, you pulled your scarf and tossed it away, hitting the blinds that covered the window. 

    "Easy, tiger," He teased with a sheepish smile. You smiled back at him. You hadn't seen him smile in years. Giggling, you leaned over him for more. His hands gripped your waist and yours had fistfuls of his platinum hair.

    Suddenly, a knock at the door.

    "Are you guys done snogging or what?" Pansy shouted. Draco rolled his eyes, breathing heavily. You gave him one last peck and you were about to stand up from straddling his hips when his hands pulled you back. You smiled at one another once more.

    "One more," He demanded quietly, his smile still not leaving his face. You leaned down and his hand tangled itself in your hair, not allowing you to release until he wanted you to. He finally retracted his grip and you got to your feet, pulling your scarf off of the ground. He stood up as well to open to door. He faced an annoyed Pansy, who fixed her attention on his now sloppy hair. She huffed and stomped back to her seat between Draco and the window. 

    "It was your idea," Draco teased, causing the other boys to laugh as they followed her in. 

    Draco's smile remained for the rest of the day.

[cassiopeiasdaughter]

Hi darling,

I hope you’re good. Honestly, I’m astounded by the loveliness of your work. Your writing is so seamless and beautiful, and your ideas are alluring.

I hope you’re okay if I flood your inbox with requests soon.

I’d love to see what you can concoct for a Draco fic in my head. It’s such a shame we never got to deeply explore this character and his potential. So, here’s a hypothetical scenario: the reader is a muggleborn Gryffindor and a member of Golden Trio (or in this case, quartet). When she’s captured by the Snatchers and tortured by Bellatrix at Malfoy Manor, will Draco step up against his family to protect her?

I would love to see your take on this🤍

all too well

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of torture and dissociation, swearing !not proofread! (Obvi), English isn't my first language so excuse the mistakes 🤍

thank you for this idea, I tried my best ❤️

"What else did you take?", the woman shouts.

She has been screaming like this for minutes, hours, days. You don't remember how long you have been laying on the marble floor, how many times the cruciatus curse has hit you.

You don't remember where you are or who the woman is.

She has black curly hair and an angry face that resembles Andromedas if you look close enough.

She points her knife at you, plays with it in front of you to scare you; when she gets bored or annoyed she hits you, with curses that make your whole body tremble and burn.

The room is spinning, the tall walls seem to keep growing taller and you constantly have to fight to keep your eyes open and search for the light.

The floor hurts your head as the woman throws you around; "How did you get it" she keeps asking," what else" , she shouts.

Your brain can't form the answer she demands, and your eyes can't help but let tears fall.

As you look away you make out more faces.

Three people, two of them looking at you with a strict face, you deserve this, the say without having to speak, it is written all over their eyes.

One of them however looks at you with a scared face, his eyes tremble as they scan your body, not entirely sure what he is looking for. He knows you are hurt, he knows he can't help you, but he keeps looking, doesn't let you go, he stays with you.

You stare into his eyes, cold and silver, burning you with one look. His hands hold his wand with a tight grip, turning his knuckles white.

Who are you, you wonder. You must be important, you think to yourself; you feel important.

Please remember him, you beg yourself. The woman keeps screaming, keeps hurting you but you can only focus on him.

"Draco", the other woman whispers.

Draco.

And with that you remember everything.

Many years ago, when you didn't have to run for your life and survive in the woods;

When home was the red and golden common room, and your three best friends;

When the only things that bothered you were Ron stealing food from your plate and History of Magic class lasting way too long;

you had fallen in love

It was doomed from the start, you knew that of course. You were a muggleborn witch and he was a Malfoy, a pureblooded purist Slytherin; how could it ever work out between the two of you?

You remember the first few years, how his constant insults at you and your friends left you fuming and screaming.

You relive quidditch matches, how sure of himself he was before every match and how he would look at you with a sneer after losing to you.

You can still hear his annoying comments during class or before duels. Shut up Malfoy, you used to shout at him

"Shut up.", you mumble as you remember your past and the woman hits you with another curse.

Then your thoughts take you back to last year.

Draco Malfoy had gotten taller over the summer, his hair had also grown he had dropped his usual sleeked-back look that you mocked. You always knew he was handsome, like you also knew he was a shallow asshole. He was more quiet though, didn't seem to pay attention to his friends or to his teachers.

You would often find him alone; walking in the corridors with a skeptical look on his face.

One particular night you caught yourself tossing and turning in your bed. You were afraid; afraid that you wouldn't be able to save your parents or your friends from Death Eaters. You felt sorry for Harry, you wanted to help him carry the burden that was forced on him all those years ago.

School was also stressing you out, and all these thoughts formed a heavy burden that sat on your chest every night. So you decided to give up hopes of sleep and dreaming and let your feet carry you down the dark and quiet corridors.

That same night you spotted Draco Malfoy rushing somewhere on his own.

You don't remember why but you decided to follow him; maybe it wasn't exactly a decision that you made, but more of a pull that you felt.

You recall walking and turning, going up stairs and getting lost in the hallways.

As you turned one more time, you were met with two angry gray eyes looking at you intensely.

"Why are you following me?", he said.

"Where are you going?", you replied as you raised your wand.

Quickly accuses started flying out of your mouth, "Harry was right, you are with them.", you remember screaming at him and then flying backwards from a spell he cast on you.

“Shut up.” He shouts “You have no idea what is happening.”

"Are you helping them? Do you have any idea what you are doing?" you continued screaming as you stood up.

You remember then how he dropped to the floor and caged his face with his hands.

"I don't know what to do. I don't have another choice." he kept repeating more to himself than to you.

Up to that point Draco Malfoy was to you a spoiled rich wizard, who couldn't see past his privilege and his family's name.

He was cruel to your friends and a blood purist. He was a Death Eater.

But the way he looked now; like a helpless boy made you realize how little say he had in his life.

You knelt down next to him and said softly "Why don't you tell Dumbledore, maybe he can help?".

He laughed mockingly at that and replied "Dumbledore can't save anyone, let alone me."

You stayed in silence kneeling next to him for minutes, trying to think of a way out.

"Malfoy" you broke the silence "Whatever you are doing for them, delay it."

He raised his head and looked at you.

"Delay it, until we find a way to fix this.", you finished

"Why would you even bother and help me? They want to kill people like you; they-", he said but didn't finish

they are killing people like me you finished in your head for him.

For a few moments you couldn't say anything; he was right. You should just go to Dumbledore and tell him everything; let him deal with that, but you couldn't leave him alone.

You couldn't refuse help to the person who needed it the most. Even if he would never ask for it; perhaps that was precisely why.

"It's the right thing, isn't it? Someone has to do it.", you exclaimed

"How very Gryffindor of you." he said with a roll of his eyes and then out of nowhere "Thank you."

"You have to work with me, trust me; in order for this work.", you said and he agreed.

With that began secret meetups and words of comfort.

You weren't enemies or friends. You were a team.

You were the person that helped him through everything, the one who listened when he cried and offered him a shoulder to lean on when everything broke down.

It was strange at first; but it was the right thing to do, and you were brought up to do just that.

You quickly learned that his company was nice; he was nice.

He could be funny when he wanted to and you found out that you had a lot in common.

“Why do you act so different in front of everyone?”, you asked him once.

“Different how?”, he asked back

“Like an emotionless selfish dick” you replied easily “When in reality, you care and protect those you love.”

“Sod off” he said and then “Even if that were true, I suck miserably at it.”

“The protecting or the caring part?”, you asked with a calm voice

He looked at you then with a curious look before turning away and sighing “Both.”

"Both." you whisper now and he can barely hear it.

"What?" the woman shouts, thinking you have an answer to her questions.

"What?", you remember shouting at him when he revealed his plan to you; their plan to kill Dumbledore and attack the school.

"Be quiet!.", he insisted, you could tell by his eyes he was distraught too; he didn't want this- didn't want any of it.

"I did everything I could to slow it down, I shouldn't even be telling you this; they will kill us both.", he muttered as every flicker of hope inside him was dying out.

"I am telling you this to protect you, win you some time, go.", his eyes were ice cold, piercing through you and his hands were griping your arms tightly; almost shaking you.

You couldn't say anything; you remember feeling as if everything he had just told you was fake. Dumbledore couldn't die, Draco wouldn't kill him, he couldn't.

And Hogwarts, your home for all those years, couldn't be attacked by them. It was the safest place on Earth.

Until it wasn't.

That was the last conversation you had with him. After that you weren't sure you would ever see him again.

You followed Harry; of course you did, you couldn't leave him alone, not after everything he'd been through and everything you witnessed together.

You thought about Draco often; mostly at night when everyone was asleep and nature kept you company; you stared into the night sky and tried to find his constellation.

You thought you could talk to him that way; "I am alright" you would say "Are you?" you always asked.

But no answer came.

You would replay every interaction, every conversation. You tried to remember his features; the exact grey of his eyes and his blonde hair. His look when he smiled (which wasn't often) and the way he played with his wand when he wanted to avoid your eyes.

Nothing ever happened between the two of you; nothing physical at least. Because the safe haven you two built had to have meant something.

Everything fell apart when you were caught.

You were alone and hurting; your friends were at best locked up somewhere and you couldn't think of a way out.

You couldn't think.

All you could feel was pain; everywhere

And then you saw Draco and every interaction; every feeling started playing again inside your head. You began living every moment from when you met him up to your last conversation.

"Go!" that is what he said to you then.

It was unbearable; you kept losing him over and over again, the story kept replaying and you couldn't pause it.

You couldn't stop and marvel at the good moments.

The way he held your hand when he needed comfort but didn't know how to ask for it;

Or his laugh when you both remembered your early years; how you both knew nothing, weren't prepared for the nightmare that would follow.

"Make it stop.", you heard his voice say and it took you back to third year and his constant complaining during Care of Magical Creatures.

"Stop.", his voice said again, closer now. “She clearly doesn’t know anything, we are wasting our time.” He kept repeating.

It is real, you realized, it isn't your memories or your fantasy, it is him.

As you move your head to get a closer look at him you hear footsteps getting close.

You hear your friends and then realize they aren’t alone, they’ve got help. We might survive this, a voice inside tells you.

All that hope crumbles down as the woman, Bellatrix you remember, grabs you and points her wand at you.

“No one moves.” She says slowly; her eyes wide open scanning the faces of everyone.

She doesn’t see Draco though, who shoots a Bombarda at her and quickly runs to your side.

His parents stand still and shocked, his fathers eyes darkening as time passes.

“What have you done?” He asks him and then Bellatrix gets up to start running towards you.

It’s chaos; what happens next. Spells shooting everywhere, wands flying out of hands. You can’t keep your eyes open for a long time, can't keep yourself up, you feel hands; his hands holding you tightly, never letting you fall.

And then you all land somewhere before the world darkens.

You can hear waves crashing into the shore and the smell of salt air fills your lungs.

You open your eyes slowly and let out a hiss as you feel pain everywhere.

Sprawled out and asleep on a chair in the corner of the room you see Draco and then your eyes land on Harry sleeping next to you.

You wake him up with a gentle nudge on his head and he smiles.

“What happened?” You ask.

He needs a few minutes to fully wake up and grasp the fact that you really are awake and alright.

“It was a bloody nightmare, but you’re awake now. I’ll go get Ron and Hermione. We have been taking turns watching you.” He says in a rush and gets up

“Wait, what is he doing here?” You asked

“He helped, hasn’t left your side since, didn’t bother with his injury without healing you first.”, Harry said not amused at first but then a sincere look painted his face.

“You have a lot of explaining to do” he warned “but later”

You just watched him exit the room and tried to process what he had just said to you.

“Potter is always loud then”, said Draco sarcastically and his voice made you jump a little. “Sorry.”

You couldn’t say anything back to him, you couldn’t even believe he was there.

He stood up and made slow strides to get close to you, until he reached your bed and sat at the spot near your feet.

You saw then the injury Harry was talking about, he had bandages starting from his shoulder tightly wrapped around it and ending down to his chest.

“What happened?” You say softly and point at the white bandages.

He let out a laugh at that “Unbelievable.” He exclaimed.

“What” you said annoyed, your eyebrows raised in a funny way that reminds him of arguments in classes and loud corridors.

“It’s” he stammered “You” and as he stared at your face with a look filled with adoration he said “Nothing.”

He swallowed loudly and explained with an amused look on his face “Got stabbed with a knife, by lovely aunty Bella.”, he pointed at the spot under his shoulder, close to his heart.

And then you remember the Manor, his aunt; Bellatrix and the questions.

Your face darkened at that and your body started shaking lightly- you hadn’t realized until you felt Draco’s hand on your shoulder rubbing lightly “You are okay, we are safe here.”

“We?” You asked and felt tears running down your cheeks “How- why are you here? What have you done?”

He smiled at you and replied “You said so yourself. I protect the ones I love.”

“I just wish I was better at it. Fix my timing and all.” He joked at the end

You really started crying then and felt him getting closer “I am sorry I didn’t do anything sooner, I should have stopped her. I am sorry.”

You felt yourself staining his shirt with your tears but couldn’t bring yourself to stop or talk; couldn’t say anything to comfort him. So you only shook your head it’s fine now, you are here.

You felt his tears falling on your head and held him closer.

The past didn't matter right now; your friends reaction could wait and the War would be won, you were sure of it.

Now, you would figure it out together; just like before.

bonus:

-So, how much longer do we have to stand here and watch- that?

-As long as we have to Ronald, be quiet now!

fin

So, um as usual I am deeply sorry for any mistakes!

Also, this was very out of my comfort zone and I am not mad about it at all, I just hope it lives up to your expectations a tiny bit and I also hope you enjoyed it.

Till next time

xx