#draco/harry/ron

[digthewriter]

"Complementary." (prompt: and they were roommates.) @polyamships #MultiamoryMarch2025

[viria]

because in year 4 Harry gets gifted a sweater with a dragon on it, and it's not playing in Draco's favour

[blueberrycasanova]

i think dumbledore was growing weed in the forbidden forest the whole time and that’s why it was forbidden. that’s also why he acts the way he does.

[jkmc]

—

[vesperkyno]

Some Harry Potter stuff

[talyris]

Genderswap! Harry Potter

[cigarettesandcoffeex]

When I’m finally reading a good fanfiction, but then they call you Princess, Doll or Sweet girl…

GTFO YOU AINT MY DAD.

[awriterinthenight]

a moment of silence for all the fics that were masterpieces but you'll never find them again

[mashruuums]

Drarry! AU -> Durmstrang and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic; Harry and Draco met at a pre-tournament convention. They didn't get along right away, but Harry was interested in Draco. Draco swore at him in French (Harry didn't understand anything, so he thought Draco was complimenting him). // the effects made the blue color of Draco's form 😭

[renncandraw]

Part 2! Of Plan M part 1

In my head it takes like another 6 months and some meddling from the others until they get together. They’re incompetent

[meemoop]

The Dorm

An unexpected conflict on Valentine’s Day… And Pansy and Neville are laughing at them from inside the dorm

ps. Nietzsche is staying at Severus’s

[bvrnesher]

*sniff, sniff*

i'm so in love with this man (he’s fictional)

[jijournal]

"Jealous Much?" | D.M

Potter!reader x Draco Malfoy

Summary: You receive a letter with a gift every week, and your brother Harry and his friends won’t stop teasing you about a “mystery admirer.” Little does he know, the sender is the last person he’d ever expect.

A/N: I'm currently in love with potter!reader x draco scenarios. ♡

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

It started about a month ago—a quiet little mystery that became your favorite part of the week.

Every Friday morning, just as the Great Hall buzzed with chatter and clinking silverware, a sleek, pale-gray owl swooped down gracefully and landed in front of you. It was never late. And it always brought something thoughtful—something that made your heart race just a little.

The first gift had been a delicate silver charm bracelet, simple but elegant, with a tiny serpent dangling from the chain. The note attached was written in tidy script:

“Something subtle… to keep me close, even when I’m not there.”

The second week, it was a small box of enchanted chocolates—each one shaped like a star, and when you bit into them, they whispered things like, “You’re beautiful,” and “Thinking of you.” The letter that time said:

“A little sweetness to match yours. Don’t share them with Weasley.”

You had giggled at that one, earning a curious look from Harry across the table.

Week three, it was a pressed flower—some kind of rare, deep purple bloom you’d never seen before—enchanted so it would never wilt. The note was shorter that time, but no less meaningful:

“Even something rare and beautiful pales next to you.”

And today? As the owl landed gracefully in front of you, heads turned, and Harry, who had already caught on to the pattern, raised his eyebrows with exaggerated interest. You untied the small parcel and unfolded the parchment first.

It read:

“Meet me tonight. Same place. P.S. You look stunning when you smile at my letters.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you unwrapped the gift—a silver locket. When you clicked it open, inside was a tiny photo of you (one you didn’t even remember being taken) smiling down at something out of frame. Opposite it was a moving image of Draco, eyes soft and a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips. Your heart squeezed.

“Alright,” Harry said, setting down his fork and leaning forward on his elbows. “This is getting serious now. A locket? You have to tell me who it is.”

Ron and Hermione both looked up, curious and amused, but Harry was the most relentless.

“I’m guessing—hmm—Ernie Macmillan.”

You rolled your eyes, tucking the locket carefully into your pocket. “Nope.”

“Michael Corner?”

“Wrong again.”

“Hmm…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Zabini? He’s smooth.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Lockhart?!” Harry gasped suddenly, eyes wide with mock horror. “Is it Lockhart? You can tell me!”

“Harry!” you squeaked, swatting at him, your face burning as you laughed.

“Look at her blush!” Harry crowed. “It’s Lockhart. Case closed.”

Ron groaned. “Please, no one wants to think about that.”

That night, you slipped out like usual, heart thudding as you made your way through the secret passage to your hidden meeting spot. And sure enough, there was Draco, already waiting, arms crossed, expression… stormy.

You frowned. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer at first, just glared down at the ground. His jaw was tight, and he seemed to be brooding even more than usual.

“Draco?” you pressed, stepping closer.

Finally, he huffed and muttered, “If your brother keeps talking about other boys, I swear I’m going to hex him into next week.”

You blinked, startled—then burst out laughing. “That’s why you’re sulking?”

Draco scowled but didn’t deny it. “It’s annoying. All day, it’s been Corner this and Zabini that—and Lockhart?! Are you kidding me? I should’ve hexed Potter right then and there.”

You giggled, sliding your arms around his waist. “Jealous, much?”

“Maybe.” Draco didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes were sharp but softened when you reached up to brush his hair back.

“You know it’s only ever you, right?”

That earned a rare, genuine smile. He leaned down and kissed you, slow and deep, pulling you flush against him like he never wanted to let go.

“Let them guess,” you whispered against his lips. “It’s more fun that way.”

“As long as you remember who you belong to,” Draco murmured, smirking now, possessive but playful.

You laughed, pecking his lips. “Always.”

⸻

The following Friday, you thought maybe things would settle down. But oh, how wrong you were.

The owl swooped in as usual—but this time, it carried a huge box. Bigger than any gift so far. You stared as it dropped the package in front of you with a graceful thud.

“Oh, this is serious now,” Harry announced, eyes lighting up as he grabbed the box before you could. “Come on, let’s see what lover boy sent this time.”

You groaned, but Hermione and Ron were already leaning in curiously, and of course, the Weasley twins—never ones to miss out on teasing—slid onto the bench with identical grins.

Harry opened the box dramatically—and all five of them gasped.

Inside was the most stunning gown you’d ever seen: emerald-green silk, shimmering faintly, clearly enchanted, with intricate embroidery that looked too expensive to even touch. You couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Holy—” Fred began.

“—bloody hell,” George finished.

“Is that designer?” Hermione whispered, eyes wide.

Harry held it up, gaping. “This must’ve cost a fortune! Okay, okay, this is big money. We need to think. Who’s rich enough to pull this off?”

You tried to grab it back, face burning. “Harry, stop—”

“Theodore Nott?” Harry guessed first.

“Nope.”

“Mclaggen?”

“Wrong.”

“Zabini?” Hermione chimed in, clearly entertained now.

“Montague?” Fred suggested, holding the dress up to himself with a wink. “If it is, tell him I want one too.”

“Ohhh,” George added dramatically, “I bet it’s one of those international students. Super rich.”

You groaned, hiding your face. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Fred and George shared a look and started chanting, “She’s getting married! She’s getting married!”

“I am NOT—!"

And then it happened.

A sudden clatter of footsteps, sharp and purposeful, echoed across the Great Hall. Everyone turned—and your stomach dropped.

Draco Malfoy was storming across the room, eyes locked on you, face like thunder.

The table fell dead silent.

“Uh… why’s Malfoy coming over here?” Ron muttered nervously.

Draco didn’t stop until he was standing right behind Harry, towering over him with his arms crossed and that deadly glare fixed in place.

“I’m the one who bought the dress, Potter,” Draco announced, his voice cool but sharp, loud enough for half the hall to hear. “Not the cheap students you’re rattling off like some pathetic guessing game."

Silence.

Harry’s jaw dropped. Fred dropped his fork. Hermione blinked like she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Draco turned to you then, gaze softening ever so slightly. “You’ll look stunning in it, by the way.”

Harry's eyes widen even more, practically bulging out of his eye sockets, as Draco leans in to kiss your forehead.

And with that, he spun on his heel and strode out, his cloak following behind him.

There was a beat of stunned silence… and then chaos.

“MALFOY?!” Harry exploded, whipping around to stare at you. “You’re dating MALFOY?!”

Fred and George howled with laughter, practically falling off the bench.

“Ohhh, this is gold,” George gasped between wheezes.

“Best reveal ever,” Fred agreed, wiping tears from his eyes.

Ron just looked horrified, and Hermione… Hermione slowly closed her book, gave you a look, and said, “I knew it.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “…Well. I guess the mystery’s solved.”

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

[babymangosworld]

When you look up *character* x reader and there's barley any fanfics about them

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Drarry where the Golden Trio are having a slightly tipsy 'Hear me out' conversation as they passed around a bottle of Elvish wine that they nicked from Slughorn's office.

"What about Gordon Horton?"

Harry and Hermione shared a confused look.

"Come on! Keeper for the Chudley Canons?"

"You're supposed to pick people we know, Ronald."

"Well excuse me," Ron said, throwing his hands in the air. "I forgot that you two have no taste."

"No taste! I will have you know that my taste is sophisticated and refined. Clearly something you don't relate to."

"Oh, oh, I see. Well since your taste is so sophisticated then by all means tell us who is your pick."

"There's Merrill Medlar. She's the chief editor of—"

"Who the hell is that? What happened to people we know?"

Harry hadn't had enough wine to tolerate their constant bickering.

"Malfoy," Harry said loudly, interrupting what would have surely been a row. "What about Malfoy?"

"Which one?" Ron and Hermione said at the same time before glaring at each other.

"What do you mean which one?" Harry frowned. "The choice is obviously—"

"Lucius." They said in unison again.

"What?" Harry gaped at them. "Lucius is a right piece of—"

"Wait," Hermione held up her hands, eyes wide. "You can't mean Draco then?"

"Of course I meant—"

"Don't say his name! Ugh, I never want to know him as Draco," Ron said, shuddering.

"Maybe I do!" Harry said, unsure why he was getting heated.

The two of them shared a long look that said a lot more than he could translate and he kind of wished they were back to arguing. At least that was familiar.

"I think I would've rather you had said Snape."

Harry's mouth parted before it closed, and he gave a considering hum. "You know, in the spirit of a true hear me out, Snape would fit."

Hermione snickered as a choked gurgle escaped Ron.

"I was joking!" Ron cried, head in his hands. "Merlin if you ever shag Snape—"

"Shag?" Harry let out a strangled meep. "If I'm going to shag someone it would be—"

"Malfoy," they said together, and part of him wondered if they were really Fred and George under Polyjuice because it was getting freaky.

"I think I'm going to be sick," muttered Ron. "I knew we'd uncover some more about each other, but I'd honestly like to cover it right back up."

"We can pretend it didn't happen," Harry offered, biting his lip as he tried to think of someone else. "What about Charlie?"

"Charlie?" Ron frowned. "My Charlie?"

"Oh," Hermione said, brows lifting. "Yes, I can see it."

"No no," Ron shook his head. "We aren't doing this. Let's get back to Harry wanting to shag Malfoy."

"It's not that I want to shag—"

"I think it's more than that," Hermione said, voice low as if she was sharing a secret. "I think he likes Malfoy."

Ron collapsed backward as if he had been shot, groaned as if he had been too. "This is too much for me."

Harry rolled his eyes, taking a large mouthful of wine. He was going to need it.

"It's not that bad."

"Yes, it is, Hermione. If Harry wants to shag Malfoy and he likes him then they'll get married and have little spawns that look like Malfoy and they'll call me Uncle Ron and then I'll just have to like them because I can't be mean to a child, but they'll look just like him and then I'm going to have a complex—"

"I think you're having a complex right now."

"And whose fault is that? Huh, Harry?"

"I never said I wanted to marry him."

"You never said you didn't though," Hermione argued, tone suggesting she was on to something.

Harry sighed loudly as they continued to debate his future. A future that held Malfoy in it. The longer they talked the more he considered it.

It was true that he wanted to shag Malfoy, but it was also true that he liked him. He just hadn't really let himself think of how much.

"I think I'm going to find Malfoy," Harry said, staggering to his feet and rather proud that he hadn't fallen over. Maybe he hadn't drank as much as he thought he had.

"Great, just great," Ron cried. "My life is over. Might as well start calling me Uncle Ron."

The portrait closed right as Hermione said,

"I think you're being rather dramatic, Uncle Ron."

[valushk4]

My shaylas 😭