#draco: hogwarts professor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

7s3ven · 8 months

Text

OBSESSION. tom riddle x fem! reader.

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom Riddle is partnered with a Gryffindor for potions. He expects them to crush every assignment sent their way, but what he doesn’t expect is him falling in love.

Words: Too many

Warning/s: Not proof-read, Grammar mistakes

A/N: I disappeared for a while, but I’m back now, lol. With Harry Potter oneshots. I have so many in my drafts that I hope to publish soon.

—

“These are your potion partners. You will work with them for the rest of the year. And no, you cannot change.”

Half of the class erupted into groans but Slughorn ignored them. Slytherins and Gryffindors were paired together, one boy and one girl.

Slughorn had purposely paired up Tom Riddle, the cold Slytherin heartthrob, and Y/N L/N, the intelligent Gryffindor beauty, together. He saw their potential together considering both students were academic geniuses.

“A Skele Gro potion? Seriously?” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. It was one of the easiest potions to make and this was an advanced class.

“Slughorn probably gave the class an easy potion since he partnered us up with people we basically hate.” Tom retorted, staring at the old potions book.

“You hate me?”

“You are a Gryffindor, after all.”

“How original.”

For the remainder of the class, the two were quiet. There were a few words exchanged but not many.

“Pass the scarab beetle.”

“Give me the puffer fish.”

As Tom was busy mixing the potion, Y/N took this as her chance to glance at him. She couldn’t deny that he was attractive with his curled brown hair and high cheekbones.

She soon went back to scribbling a few notes in her textbook, the black ink staining the side of her hand (something she didn’t notice). She wiped the side of her cheek, unknowingly smearing the ink onto her face.

Tom gaze wandered from the simple potion to Y/N, who was leaning over the desk, quill in hand. He looked at the ink on her face, almost smiling in amusement.

“L/N,” He uttered. She turned her head to look at him in confusion, wondering why he had mumbled her name. “You have something on your face.”

She reached up a hand, touching the wrong side of her face.

“Other side- You know what, never mind.” Tom licked his lips and shook his head. He beckoned Y/N forward and with a pinch of hesitation, she stood up.

Tom pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped her cheek, strangely fascinated by the way the ink didn’t stain her face as it did with her hand.

She stared into his dark brown eyes, leaving Tom stunned. Most students, even the girls obsessed with him, were always scared of Tom. But Y/N purely gazed at him, unfazed.

“Thank you.” She slowly said, her lips curving into a small smile.

Tom was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded. “No problem.”

The pair went silent again and when class was dismissed, Y/N shoved all of her things into her bag and fled the room.

Tom took his time in packing up. He picked up a thick leather journal that he didn’t remember owning and when he flipped thorough the messy pages, he realized it wasn’t his.

Every page of Y/N’s book was different. Some notes were messy while others were unbelievably neat.

Tom gently put the book in his bag and hurried out of the classroom to see if he could find Y/N. But she had moved too fast and was nowhere to be seen.

“Tom, why do you look so worried?” Avery came up behind the brunette prefect, slinging a pale arm around Tom’s shoulder.

“Y/N L/N, what do you know about her?” Tom asked.

“What? The Gryffindor girl with the fan club?”

Y/N was, to put it lightly, popular with the Hogwarts students. Not just the boys, in fact. Girls liked her too, both platonically and romantically. Hence her little fan club.

“Yes. What do you know about her?”

“Not a lot. She’s a Gryffindor, obviously. Comes from a wealthy Mudblood”- Avery froze as soon as Tom sent him a stern glare. “Muggle family.” He quickly corrected himself. “She’s smart, pretty, and people like her. She’s, uh, popular and acts as a stand-in for the Quidditch team because, despite liking the sport, she doesn't have enough time to play it regularly."

"Find out anything else about Y/N. And figure out her preferable type when it comes to romantic partners." Tom said, waving Avery off. The blond left, leaving Tom alone to tend to his thoughts.

The sound of heels clicking against the stoned floor filled the silent hallway and a shoulder banged into Tom's.

"Ah! Sorry!" Y/N called out, not realizing who it was.

Tom quickly reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. With a loud gasp of surprise, Y/N harshly crashed into his chest, almost knocking the air out of Tom's lungs.

Tom paused, inhaling the sweet scent of Y/N's floral perfume. "You left your notebook in the classroom. Here." The brunette boy handed Y/N her leather book, their fingers brushing against each other. She gripped her notes tightly, almost as if she was afraid of losing them again.

"Thank you." She muttered, her knuckles turning white. She looked like she wanted to say more but she didn't. She only nodded and ran off.

Tom let out a loud sigh, the brief feeling of Y/N's skin against his imprinted in his mind.

—

"My lord," Avery strode up to Tom, a few pages in his hands. "I, uh, made a list about... you know." He whispered the last part and handed Tom the list.

"Thank you. You may go." Tom looked around to see if anybody was paying attention to him before he flipped through Avery's messy handwriting.

Y/N L/N, muggle-born. Gryffindor. Enjoys studying in the library with her friends and loves (your favourite drink). Her best subject is defence against the dark arts and potions.

Her ideal type wasn't easy to figure out, but I managed to question a lot of her friends without raising suspicion. Her ideal type is people taller than her, and she really seems to like scholars over sporty people. Honestly, there's a lot of grey area so her type could be anyone.

Tom folded the notes and shoved them into his pocket. He cleared his throat, nodding in satisfaction. His first class of the day was potions, and he felt a weird feeling in his chest. It was almost like it… jumped.

Tom could feel his pulse speed up as he got closer to the potions classroom and he momentarily paused to feel it. “Strange.” He muttered under his breath. He must be sick because this had never happened.

Nevertheless, he continued on his way. He was early but there were already a few students inside, one being Y/N. She was sitting at her and Tom’s desk but was speaking to a Gryffindor behind her.

They immediately went silent, though, when Tom approached them. Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as the awkward silence settled over the room.

Tom cracked open his potions book, his eyes scanning over random words. He could feel Y/N staring at him and when he glanced at her, she hurriedly looked away, her cheeks flushing red.

Tom held back a snicker. “Are you excited for the Yule ball?” Tom unexpectedly asked. He wasn’t one to be phased by silence, but Y/N looked uncomfortable by it.

“Pardon me?”

“The Yule ball. Are you excited? Surely you must be.”

“Oh, um, yes. What about you?”

“I’d rather skip it. But being a prefect, I have to be there.” Tom didn’t care for social events. He hated most of them and found them rather pointless. He had never liked the Yule ball in the first place.

“Have you got a date?” Y/N questioned, fiddling with her quill.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious. How is it that someone like you doesn’t have a date? Girls are crazy for you.” Y/N turned her head to look at Tom, which was probably the first time she had done so since he caught her staring.

“I’m not interested in them. They aren’t what I’m looking for.”

“Well, you have plenty time to find a date, if you want one.”

Tom silently nodded, opening his mouth and then closing it. “You’re on the Yule ball committee, are you not?” He asked after a hint of hesitation.

“I am. I’ve been so busy planning it that I haven’t thought about the event itself. I don’t even know what colour my dress will be.”

“(Favorite colour.” Tom immediately replied, taking Y/N by surprise. “(Favorite colour) would suit you.”

Y/N briefly smiled. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

—

As the days passed by, Y/N haunted Tom’s mind like a ghost haunting a dark house. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, no matter what he tried. He had even gone as far as making out with a fellow Slytherin to try and erase Y/N from his mind.

But all he could do was imagine it was Y/N who was desperately kissing him, smearing lipstick marks all over his white collar and drowning him in her sweet perfume.

Tom had gotten little to no sleep for the past week, a certain Gryffindor etched into his brain. The dark circles under his eyes had grown, a sign that he hadn’t been resting well.

“Riddle, are you okay?” Y/N’s voice snapped the brunette Slytherin back to reality. He realised that his head was leaning against his desk and his neck ached. He sat up, looking around the empty classroom. “You, uh, fell asleep.” Y/N explained, “Slughorn let you sleep since you seemed so tired.”

“Ah.” Tom thickly swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Thank you.” He waved his hand, trying to dismiss Y/N like he would dismiss Avery but she didn’t leave.

“Are you sure? Slughorn told me to tell you that if you ever need more sleep, you can ask him for a potion.”

Tom stood up, a little wobbly. He picked up his stuff and placed a heavy hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m fine.” He repeated. His hand lingered for a moment too long on Y/N before he lifted it and walked off, slightly unstable.

Y/N watched him leave, her lips parted and her eyebrows furrowed with concern. She recalled how peaceful Tom looked in his sleep, the completely opposite of what he looked like right now. He looked so… rough.

Y/N could faintly remember the feeling of Tom’s hand on her shoulder and she began to wonder how his cold hands would feel on her waist. Shocked by her own thoughts, Y/N violently shook her head.

Tom was attractive but he didn’t like anyone. Not romantically and not platonically. And Y/N would be the last person he’d date, with her being both a Gryffindor and Muggleborn.

Just as Y/N was about to leave, she spotted a slip of paper on Tom’s desk. Curiosity got the best of her and she hurriedly opened it. The paper looked like it had been quickly torn out of a notebook.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins. I can’t get her out of my head, just like how Humbert couldn’t stop thinking about Dolores. Perhaps Lolita is not the best reference to make buy nevertheless. This is not supposed to be happening, not now and not ever. I cannot love and yet here I am, undoubtedly and inexplicably in love with her.

It was Tom’s handwriting, Y/N was sure of it. She felt confused when her heart sank after reading the contents and not seeing her name. She had been thinking about Tom Riddle ever since they got paired up and she was starting to wonder the same question her friends were asking: Did Y/N L/N fancy Tom Riddle?

—

Potions couldn’t come fast enough. Tom and Y/N were the first ones to enter the room. They seemed to have the same idea and try to be as early as possible to get a glimpse of their potions partner before class started.

“What’s the theme for the Yule ball?” Tom inquired.

“It’s the same as it always is.” Y/N replied, “Snow.”

“How original.”

“I wish they’d spice it up a little. But the ball committee isn’t on charge of the them, just the planning and decorating.”

“Still no date?”

“I’ve had a few offers but… not my type. You?”

“No.”

“At this rate, it seems like you’ll never get a date.” Y/N joked but her smile faded when she saw Tom’s unamused face. “Say,” She said, suddenly remembering what she had found a few days ago, “Do you like anyone?”

“It’s impossible for me to like someone.”

“I know… but if you could, who would you like?” Y/N stared at Tom, anxiously awaiting his answer.

He took his sweet time in thinking. So long that Y/N was sure he wasn’t even going to give her a proper answer.

“It’s hard to say who when I don’t feel anything.” Tom lied through his teeth. The girl he was interested in was right in front of him.

“I see. No pressure to answer then.”

“But if I had to describe someone I’d like, if I could feel anything, I’d want her to be kind and caring. The opposite of me to balance it out.”

Y/N could feel anxiety course through her veins as she parted her lips to make a reference she probably shouldn’t have. “Would she be the light of your life and the fire of your loins?”

Tom tried to hide his small amount of panic with a chuckle. “A strange reference, huh? Why Lolita?”

“I just think it’s strange how some people can’t stop thinking about their crushes… like how Humbert was always thinking of Lolita.” Y/N watched Tom’s face for any form of reaction, but he had none.

“How did you find it?” Tom quickly questioned, turning on his wooden chair. “The letter? How did you find it?”

“You left it on your desk. Just tell me who the girl is, I want to know. I’ll even help you ask her out.”

“I do not need your help.” Tom seethed, “And do not mention a word of this to anyone else. We will discuss this after class.”

Perhaps Y/N should have kept her mouth shut. If she did, she wouldn’t have found herself locked in a dingy old basement with Tom Riddle.

I’m going to die, she thought to herself.

“Riddle, I promise I will not mention this to anybody. I swear! You don’t have to kill me! I won’t say anything!”

“I’m not going to kill you, L/N. What do you take me for? A savage?”

Y/N wanted to mention the time where Tom had beaten up a Hufflepuff for accidentally taking his book, but she forced herself not to say anything.

“You want to know who the girl is?” Tom asked. Y/N silently nodded. She subconsciously stepped back as he slowly walked towards her. This pattern continued until Y/N’s back hit a stone wall and she stiffened.

Tom was standing right in front of her, looming over her with that stern stare he always had.

“The girl that I am so infatuated with, to put it lightly, is you.”

Y/N blinked once, and then twice. Then she burst into laughter. “Are you messing with me, Riddle? Is this a joke? Come on, be serious.”

“I’m not the one who should be serious here.” Tom responded, reaching out a hand to tuck a piece of Y/N’s hair away.

“Wait, so you’re not joking?” Y/N asked, raising her eyebrows. She couldn’t ignore the little jump her heart did.

“If I was joking, I wouldn’t be willing to do this.” Tom had to lean down to press his lips against Y/N’s. She jumped and, on instinct, pulled away and slapped Tom.

She froze, her mind processing what she had just done. Then she panicked. "My gosh, Riddle, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to slap you! Are you... okay?" That was a stupid question to ask, considering how red Tom's cheek was right now.

"Fine." He answered even though his face was stinging.

"I didn't mean to slap you. You just caught me by surprise. Sorry... again." Y/N cringed, staring at Tom's reddening cheek. "Say... do you happen to know what loins actually means, Riddle?”

“No. I only used it as a pitiful reference.”

“It's your, uh..." Y/N paused, "Humbert was basically saying that Dolores got him... aroused.” Y/N had expected him to know what it meant, Tom being an academic and all.

“Oh… well, I can assure you that I am not a pedo and nothing like Humbert.” Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am sorry I kissed you without warning. You are free to go. Just… not a word.”

Tom turned around and even though Y/N wanted to call out his name, she simply stared at him before nodding and walking off.

Tom, who was hoping Y/N would stay, pressed his lips into a thin line. He thickly swallowed, waiting a few minutes to see if Y/N would return. When she didn’t, he could only nod in acceptance.

Love was never meant for some people, and perhaps Tom was in that category.

—

Y/N sat in her dorm room, sitting on the edge of her bed. She clasped her hands together, deep in thought.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Liza, a fellow Gryffindor, bounced up to Y/N. She was one of her dorm mates, and a close friend.

“Are you sure you want to hear it?” Y/N quietly muttered, sheepishly smiling.

“Shoot. I have nothing better to do.”

“Riddle, uh… he…” Y/N struggled to finish her sentence. She could still feel his lips against her’s and for some reason… she liked it.

“What did he do? Did he- No. I knew he was rotten apple! That is unacceptable!” Liza assumed the worst.

“No! No! He didn’t. He… kissed me.”

Liza’s eyebrows rose in shock. She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Riddle… kissed you? Like… actually kissed you? No offence. He just doesn’t seem like the type… to be interested in relationships.” Liza’s gaze fell upon Y/N’s solemn face. “But, uh, how are you feeling? That’s the most important thing.”

“That’s the problem… I’m not too sure. I… liked it? But, it feels wrong. I mean, Riddle is… he’s untouchable. He’s the head boy, he’s smart and charming and loved. And I’m… just me.”

Liza grabbed Y/N’s hands, holding onto them tightly. “You are not just you. You are a top student at Hogwarts. A role model to younger kids. A great candidate for head girl. You are amazing and talented and skilled. You are Y/N L/N.” Liza furrowed her eyebrows as she spoke with such passion.

Y/N teared up at her friend’s kind words. Liza softly smiled and wiped away a stray tear.

“Y/N, do you like Tom Riddle?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“That isn’t an answer. Do you like Tom Riddle?”

“I do.”

Liza grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, tightly gripping them. “Then listen to me, Y/N. You are going to march up to Riddle and you are going to ask that boy out if it’s the last thing you do! And he will accept your offer because he is lucky to even stand so close to you! Do you understand?!”

Liza’s enthusiastic behavior on this matter made Y/N laugh. “Okay, okay. What do I have to do?”

Liza smirked, standing up straight and flicking her raven black hair over her shoulder.

“Leave it to me.”

—

Y/N felt a little foolish as she stood in the crowded hallway, a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and heart-shaped letter in the other. Liza stood behind Y/N, keeping a lookout for Tom Riddle.

“Is this necessary?” Y/N muttered, gulping as people stared at her when they passed by.

“Absolutely. Come on, I see him.” Liza pushed Y/N forward. Her heart was beating like crazy in her chest. Her knees wobbled like jelly and she found it hard to stand properly.

“Liz,” Y/N whispered, hyperventilating. “Liz. I can’t do this.”

“No. Come on. Y/N, I believe in you. Let’s go.”

Y/N shakily stepped forward. She locked eyes with Riddle, who stared at her in confusion. His eyes flickered to the flowers and the letter, and he tilted his head to the side.

“I can do this.” Y/N muttered to herself.

“You can do this.” Liza echoed.

“I’m a Gryffindor. I’m brave. I’m loyal. I’m courageous. I’m Y/N L/N.” Y/N took a deep breathe before she quickly walked towards Tom.

The sea of students parted for her. They whispered and muttered, wondering what Tom’s answer would be. He was infamous for not caring about other people and, to them, Y/N was just another girl who thought she could change him.

“Y/N.” Tom uttered. That was the first time he had called her by her first name, which said something. Tom’s group that had been accompanying him stepped back, pushing and shoving each other and quietly laughing.

“Tom.” Y/N greeted him back.

“Did you finally say yes to someone asking you out to the Yule Ball?” Tom questioned, reaching out a hand to look at the beautiful flowers. “He has nice choice in flowers.”

“Actually,” Y/N said, stepped closer to the tall brunette, “I’m not the one who has to say yes. But, I’m hoping the person I’m asking will.”

Tom arched an eyebrow, confused and left in the dark.

“Tom Riddle, being your potions partner has been… interesting. It’s been chaotic, which is my favorite kind of fun. You are… amazing, and smart, and a great companion. So, Tom Riddle, despite me being a Gryffindor, will you make me so happy and go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“This is such a Gryffindor thing to do; the girl asking the boy out.” Tom plucked a flower from the bouquet, slightly grinning, “Y/N L/N, you are one amazing girl. I would be honored to be your date.”

Tom slowly tilted Y/N’s chin up and smiled.

“That’s… a yes, right?”

“It’s a yes.”

Malfoy practically tackled Tom. “My friend has a date! Tom finally has a date!”

The hallway burst into cheers and claps. Liza was especially happy. She bounced up to Y/N, hugging her tightly. Other people approached Y/N, joyfully congratulating her and patting her back. Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, but the adrenaline blocked out her pain.

Tom glanced at Y/N, pausing. He adored that glint in her eyes and he hoped it would be there for a long time to come.

165 notes · View notes

nioumin-draw · 21 days

Text

For the talented @aspionagee

I just read a new chapter of her fanfic: a patchwork family 💞💞

Aaaaaaaaaaand I even did a digital part ❤️☺️😆 I know it's not that good as my sketch but I hope you'll like the results

✨expecto Patronum✨

#harry potter #severus snape #fanfiction severitus #severitus #snape adopt harry #severitus fanfiction #Fanfiction #hogwarts #professor severus snape #sirius black #harry potter and the prizoner of azkaban #harry potter books #draco malfoy #Snape adopt Draco #fanfiction sketch #sketch #fanfiction illustration

46 notes · View notes

tastesbloody · 7 months

Text

Me & The Devil - Chapter 1

(Severus Snape X Female Reader)

'Me & The Devil' Masterlist

Description: You're a naturally gifted Legilimens, leading to Dumbledore recruiting you to join the faculty at Hogwarts in order to help protect Harry Potter and defend Hogwarts, before eventually recruiting you into The Order of The Phoenix.

However the longer you spend at Hogwarts, the more your feelings for the cold brooding potions master grow, despite your attempt to push them aside.

Notice: Some events in the story play out differently in this fic due to you being at Hogwarts and you being a Legilimens and there's a 7 year age gap between you and Snape. Also this series is going to be partially based off of the books and partially based off of the films

Word Count: 4,320

Warnings: Age gap

This Chapters Song/s:

Hate Myself - Dodie

FanFic Playlist

Gif is not mine

You stood in the headmasters office, the autumn sun streaming through the windows.

Besides Severus Snape, you had also discovered- upon first meeting the head master of Hogwarts, that you weren’t able to peer into the mind of Albus Dumbledore either. Because of this, you couldn’t help but feel that same sense of vulnerability you had when first meeting Snape. Defenceless. You’re tools not working. Like a blacksmith with no fire, or like a knight running into battle with a sword but no armour or shield.

“You seem nervous”, Dumbledore's voice pulls you from your thoughts. It's starting to feel as though that’s all people here see you as; a ball of nervousness. It made you feel like a liability rather than someone of help.

“Forgive me, Professor”, you say, attempting to shake off your uneasy aura.

“You needn’t worry. No one else here can read my mind. Rest assured, if I disliked you, you’d know”.

“I feel it’s slightly unfair that you can defend yourself so easily against my abilities, yet you can read my mind so easily”, you laugh at the irony, shaking your head slightly at your predicament.

“I’m not reading your mind. Once you’ve worked in my field for as long as I have, reading people becomes easy. Even without the art of Ligilimency”, Dumbledore chuckled and gestures for you to take the seat opposite him at his desk, to which you comply. “You shouldn’t have to rely on it to make others like you. You can be yourself here”, he reassured you before offering you a bowl of sunny yellow hardboiled sweets. “Sherbet Lemon?”, he offered. You smiled sheepishly and took one from the bowl before placing it in your mouth.

“So, regarding Professor Lupin...”, Dumbledore began. “You’ve spent a lot of time around him these past few weeks. What’s your verdict”.

“He is not working with Sirius Black”, you state clearly. “He is still grieving the loss of his friends and he fears for Harry’s well being. He sees so much of James in him. If he were working with him, he would have slipped up by now”.

Dumbledore gave a single nod before asking, “And what of the other staff?”.

“Nothing to note. The only one I can’t speak for would be Severus. He won’t let his guard down for a second”.

“I’m not concerned with Severus. I trust him. Yet, it wouldn’t hurt if you were to gain his trust”, he hummed, allowing himself to mull over his thoughts. “Yes, I think that would be best. Given his talent for Occlumency and your natural Legilimency gift, as well as him being the Potions Master here at Hogwarts and yourself becoming a teacher of Herbology, the two of you shall be working very closely, I can assure you”.

“Of course. I’ll see what I can do”, is all you said in response, an uncomfortable knot forming in your stomach at the idea of spending so much time with someone you could not read at all.

“I’ll also request he helps you with Occlumency since with the amount of information you’ll be trusted with, we should have you prepared to defend yourself if needed”.

You swallowed thickly at the mention of this but agreed nonetheless.

After your first report to Dumbledore, that same night, Snape had approached you after dinner. He pulled you aside as you left the hall, leading you roughly by the arm out of site from the students and other faculty members. You jolted in surprise, initially digging your heels into the ground to prevent you from moving, before realising it was Snape who had your upper arm in a vice like grip.

“For the love of Merlin! You know if you want to talk to a woman, you don’t manhandle her into a quiet corridor”, you grumble as you straightened out your robes, wincing at the residual pain from where Severus had clamped on to your arm. “It makes you seem like some deranged nutcase”.

“Do forgive me. I had no idea you were so sensitive”, he states bluntly, a snarl curling onto his lips as he glanced down at where you nursed your now sore arm, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

“And I had no idea you were so rough”, you frown, glaring into his deep, dark eyes. You’re about to speak, but Snape beats you to it.

“Professor Dumbledore has asked that I assist you in developing your Occlumency skills”, he drawls before quirking an eyebrow. “I must say, I’m surprised someone so skilled in Legilimency struggles with basic Occlumency”.

“I don’t struggle with the basics”, you snap back, Snape folding his arms in front of himself as he glares down at you. Having him stand within a step of you makes the height difference between the both of you feel much greater, having to crane your head up slightly to meet his cold gaze. “No one taught me... Everyone assumes I’m also naturally gifted with Occlumency too. Not to mention I’ve never had a reason to defend myself against such magic until now”.

Snape tilts his head just a fraction as he watched you, face not changing in the slightest. You wish you could tell what he was thinking. “We begin this weekend. Saturday and Sunday afternoons. We shall continue to meet until I can no longer penetrate that dull mind of yours”, and with that Snape leaves, leaving you with your mouth slightly agape once again, not having expected the added insult. Your temporary shock is then converted into a rage that bubbles under your skin and you storm off to your chamber, hating yourself for not saying anything in response before Snape had stormed away.

A few days later, you and Lupin had been lounging in the staff room, huddled close to the fire place as the weather had suddenly grown much colder.

“Severus has never been good at talking to pretty women... or women in general for that matter”, Remus teased as you ran your hand gently over the bruise that had formed from where Snape had grabbed you.

You shoved the scruffy man playfully, but added with a more serious note, “Don’t say that”. You would agree that Snape wasn’t the best, however you believed that didn’t give Remus the right to tease him.

“You shouldn’t defend him so much, you know”, Remus scoffed.

“I’m not defending him. I just don’t agree with bullying others”, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I that’s hardly fair when he is the one bullying his students on a daily basis”, Remus shot back.

“I know. I don’t necessarily agree with his teaching methods”, you shook your head. “I know he gives that boy- Neville Longbottom- a hard time. The poor thing”, you frown.

“Yes, he’s had a serious effect on Neville. So much so that his boggart takes the form of Professor Snape”. Your eyes widened at this news. “I must say though, Neville’s use of ‘Riddikulus’ was very amusing to say the least”, he chuckled as he leaned back against the sofa and you allowed yourself to peer into his memory as he recalled it.

Snape strode out of the wardrobe, sauntering his way over to Longbottom, a malicious glint in those deep dark eyes. Neville was trembling on the spot, making your heart ache for the boy, wanting to reach out and comfort him more than anything.

Remus called out for Neville to prepare himself and a moment later Neville cast his spell...

“Riddikulus!”

Snape’s regular black robes were replaced by an emerald green skirt and matching blazer, red handbag and an eyesore of a hat with a vulture perched atop it. The class erupted into laughter and an amazed smile flickered across Neville's face before he begins laughing along with his classmates.

You found yourself giggling along with Remus at the memory. “It sounds like your lesson was interesting to say the least”, you mused. “I remember the first time I fought a boggart at school”, you began. “It had taken the form of a giant void that slowly grew in size, gradually swallowing up the classroom... the fear of the unknown”, you explained, casting a glance to Remus who seemed fascinated by your tale. “I then used ‘Riddikulus’ to turn it into the night sky, full of stars and fireworks. I didn’t pass since my result wasn’t humour, but oh well”, you laughed off your memory.

‘I bet it looked wonderful’.

A comfortable silence settled over the pair of you as you listened to the fire crackle and roar.

“I can’t believe he’s been spotted near the castle”, you suddenly said, a frown swarming your features. “He really is trying to get to the Potter boy... isn’t he?”.

Lupin looked over your worried features before patting a reassuring hand against yours, much like Minerva had on your first day. “Seems that way doesn’t it”, he nodded. “We have to be on our guard. If Sirius Black was able to escape from Azkaban, who knows what else he’s capable of”, Remus muttered bitterly, before releasing a tense sigh. “But I’m sure everything will be fine. Hogwarts is the safest place I know”.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief as you watched the flames dance around the fireplace. “After hearing what occurred here the past two years?... I wouldn’t be so sure of that”.

The Friday before your first Occlumency session with Snape , you were teaching your third year class, with Professor Sprout observing the lesson.

You seemed to get along with the majority of the students. Many liked the fact that you had no bias towards any of the four houses since you didn’t belong to one. Many others felt as though they could relate to you more due to you being younger than their other professors. It seemed to make you more relatable and more approachable in their minds.

You had a pot of Niffler’s Fancy on the table, discussing it’s properties and uses, as well as explaining to your class how it’s leaves are known to be used as a form of primitive currency.

“Now, do any of you have an inkling as to why this plant is named ‘Niffler’s Fancy’?”, you ask the class, a few hands shooting up. You noticed one boy raise his arm a little slower than the others, uncertainty written all over his features, but he was trying and you wanted to give him the chance.

‘It’s because nifflers are attracted to shiny and valuable objects and their leaves are like copper’, you could hear his thoughts.

“Yes, Mr Longbottom?”, you called on him.

“Is it because of its leaves?”, he asked more than answered your question.

“You’re certainly on the right track. Can you elaborate why it’s leaves may give it its name?”, you pushed, wanting him to answer correctly. A few other hands shot up to answer around him, but you disregarded them, wanting to give Neville the confidence boost he so desperately needed.

“Is it because nifflers are attracted to valuable objects like gold, silver, bronze, diamonds, and it’s leaves are bronze”, he began to trail off, once again sounding unsure of himself.

“Yes! Exactly, well done Mr Longbottom!”, you praised him, earning a bashful grin from the boy.

As you walked past him later in the lesson, you quietly said to him, “Have more confidence in yourself Neville. You’re smarter than you think”, to which he nodded timidly in response.

The remainder of the lesson ran smoothly. Students taking notes and you answering any questions they had before you then set a short piece of homework to do some further research into what Niffler’s Fancy could possibly be used for.

“What a splendid lesson! Well done!”, Professor Sprout cheered as the students spilled out of the room, heading back towards the castle.

“Thank you, Pomona”, you said gleefully, pride swelling in your chest as you cleared up the classroom. “The third years are my favourite year group to teach. They’re all so wonderful”, you gushed.

“Yes, they are quite a talented bunch”, Pomona agreed, helping you to clear the last few bits. “Since you’ve got a free period, would you mind running a few ingredients down to Severus in the dungeons”. You cringed at the thought, not wanting to have to interact with the berating potions master unless absolutely necessary. Pomona must have noticed your reaction as she then said, “Come on, stay professional. He’s not that bad”. She quickly made her way to her stock cupboard and pulled out a few jars of various ingredients; mandrake root, wormwood and wolfsbane were a few you recognised. “The sooner you take these to him, the sooner you can leave and carry on about your day”.

“You’re right”, you exhale, running a hand through your hair. She made a strong point. This was part of your job. You had to remain professional.

Pomona places the jars in your arms and before you know it, you’re sent on your way to the dungeons.

It was cold down in the depths of the castle and a damp smell lingered in the air. You couldn’t help but wonder how the Slytherin students could stand having their common room down here. You walked along the dark hallways, searching for the correct class room, following the faint sound of bubbling cauldrons. Eventually you found the man you were looking for.

You peered through the doorway to the class, spotting Severus looming over his students, circling around them like a vulture. He was watching their every move, like he was waiting for one of them to make a mistake, or perhaps in attempts to prevent one from happening. Once again, you couldn’t tell. The man was unreadable.

Surprisingly, it was a handful of the students in the class who noticed your presence first as you stood in the doorway. The others remained focused on their work. Their minds either thinking about how much they disliked the lesson they were currently in, how much they disliked Snape, or how they were riddled with stress and anxiety about ruining their concoction.

Once Snape had noticed eyes lingering on the doorway to his classroom instead of their cauldrons, his eyes snapped to you. Eyes narrowing in your direction.

“I have some ingredients for you, Professor Snape”, you said simply, gesturing to the multiple jars in your arms.

Snape stormed towards you, and you decided to meet him half way. “Would you mind not distracting my students from their studies the next time you deliver ingredients to me”, he grumbled, taking three jars from you.

‘He’s so rude-‘, ‘I can’t believe he said that-‘, ‘but she’s so nice-‘.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief as you followed Severus to one of the many shelves lining the class. “I am in no way trying to distract your pupils, Severus. Although if you do have an issue with my presence in your classroom, perhaps next time you need your potions ingredients you should retrieve them yourself”, you shot back, earning a deathly glare from the potions master in return as he snatched the remaining jars from your grasp. But he didn’t say anything, no harsh retort. It was probably because he knew you had a point.

‘It’s like watching an angel and a demon trying to have a conversation, or like an overgrown bat and a princess’.

You were unsure which one of the students it had been to think this, but you had to bite your lip harshly, a giggle threatening to bubble up your throat and fill the silent classroom. Snape quirked a brow at you’re sudden amusement and asked, “Amused are we?”.

“No, no, no, Severus”, you attempted to silence the laugh that was tickling the back of your throat.

There was a moment of silence as he glanced over your features, before he uttered, “get out of my classroom”. Though his words held no hostility, they did carry a strong unamused tone.

As you left, you muttered under your breath, “A simple thank you would have been nice”, rounding the corner and disappearing out of site from the potions master, happy to be leaving the dank dungeons.

But you would be back there.

Less than twenty-four hours later.

You sat on a stool in Snape’s classroom on the chilly Saturday afternoon, Severus paced in front of you with folded arms, his gaze once again so intense it made you want to curl in on yourself. You hated it. You hated yourself for allowing him to make you feel that way. You felt like he was peering into your very soul, and your ‘lesson’ hadn’t even started yet.

“I shall attempt to penetrate your mind. And you shall attempt to stop me”, he instructed sharply and clearly, making you feel as though you were back at school again. “We shall start with the basics and build up your resistance from there”.

You couldn’t deny the tension that hung in the air, it feeling so thick that it was almost suffocating.

“Okay”, you say, preparing yourself.

Occlumency was easy in theory, yet putting it to practice was a completely different matter.

Snape came to a stop in front of you as he pulled his wand from the inner pocket of his robes and pointed it in your direction. You felt your throat go dry and your pulse rise. For the first time since you had entered his classroom, the two of you locked eyes.

You felt like a deer in headlights.

Like a lamb come face to face with a wolf.

Like standing on the edge of a precipice before the fall...

“Legilimens”

Snape felt everything. Your fear and anxiety. The chill against your skin from the colds of the dungeon. How his eyes on you made you feel as though you were made of glass and he was staring straight through you.

You attempted to go numb. Letting go of everything. Pretending that none of those feelings existed. Embracing the cold and allowing yourself to take a breath... Relax.

Snape finally withdrew.

You took a moment to compose yourself, feeling a little self conscious and embarrassed.

Severus’ gaze flickered from you to the floor then back to you, his features expressionless.

You both remained silent until he finally spoke. “You were too slow to respond. You have to be quicker. You must shut off everything immediately”.

“I know”, you sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself, more for comfort than warmth.

“Again”, Snape ordered before once again casting his spell.

“Legilimens”

He felt the twinge of embarrassment you now felt, the chill of your skin, before you managed to shut him out.

“Quicker!”, he snapped, making you feel like a child being scolded by their teacher and causing a searing anger to begin simmering within you.

Once again, Snape invaded your mind.

“Growing a little frustrated are we?”, he taunted but you chose to ignore his comment, instead focusing on pushing your emotions down, burying them deep within you.

You focused on your heart rate and took a deep breath in, allowing your mind to go empty. You closed your eyes and pictured nothing, letting the empty blackness consume your vision. Slowly you released your breath, feeling your heart beat beneath your chest at a steady pace.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

As you slowly opened your eyes, your line of sight instantly connected with Severus’ once more. You wondered what lay beneath the dark depths of his eyes. You had to admit, despite his awful personality, you found Snape fascinating.

“Legilimens”

This time, there was nothing. You were like a void. An abyss. He couldn’t feel anything as you sat, staring at him, your defences unwavering. The only thing he could feel was the cold dungeon air against your skin.

Eventually, Snape’s posture relaxed, lowering his wand as the tension seemed to leave his shoulders. “It seems as though you can manage the basics”, he drawled, glowering down at you.

“I did tell you, I don’t struggle with the basics. I just haven’t had much practice”, you challenged him, his face unchanging. More silence followed. It seemed as though that’s all your conversations were when Snape wasn’t trying to insult you. Silence.

“Is this why you’re always so stoic?”, the question had slipped past your lips before you truly contemplated what you were asking. “Are you always making use of your Occlumency skills; completely shutting yourself off from your emotions to prevent anyone from peering into how you’re truly feeling or what you’re thinking?”, you asked, trying to quench that curiosity that brewed away in your mind as to who this man truly was; why he acted the way he did; what he thought. However, you knew you had made a mistake when Snape chose not to respond.

“I can’t say I blame you”, you added awkwardly, trying to relieve the tension. “I’m aware of what people think of me and my abilities without having to read their minds. People hate it, so I understand why you’d constantly defend yourself from me. Also I’m sure you have other reasons for using Occlumency- ...”, you added with an awkward laugh, yet he still didn’t respond. “I’m sorry, Severus”.

“Stop your rambling”, he spat back.

There was another pause before Snape unfastened his cloak, slowly stalking towards you. You felt your heart beat quicken as apprehension clenched at your stomach, fearing what he would do next, shivering in your seat slightly. With a flourish, his cloak encompassed your being, settling on your shoulders comfortably, shielding you from the cold of the dungeon and providing you with some extra warmth, Severus’ body heat still lingering in the fibres. You watched him, wide eyed and speechless at his action, feeling as though all the wind had been knocked out of your lungs.

“Don’t look at me like that”, he growled as he fastened the clasp around your neck. “It’ll be more difficult for you to focus if you’re as cold as a corpse”, he huffed before standing, and returning to his previous place.

“Thank you, Severus”, you say softly in no more than a whisper, like this small act of kindness was a secret to be kept between the two of you.

You wrapped the cloak around you a little more. You assumed it would have a distinct scent; potions ingredients or damp like the dungeons. But it didn’t smell of anything, in the same sense that whenever you arrived home, it smelt like home. Nothing else. The cloak just smelt of him. “Won’t you be cold?”, you asked gently.

Severus looked you over once again, his eyes falling from your face to your frame draped in his cloak and back, before discarding your comment completely.

“Since you seem to be able to manage the basics of protecting your emotions from a legilimency spell, we shall move on to protecting your thoughts and memories. Do as you had before. Allow your mind to go blank. Feel nothing”, Severus instructed carefully. “Legilimens”.

Flickers of the first time you had met Severus danced across the forefront of your mind. His imposing presence looming over you as he scolded you for being a liability. The feeling of shame and hurt washing over you before the vision changed.

You cringed as Severus delved deeper into your mind.

“I’m sorry”.

That familiar voice.

“I just can’t be with someone who knows my every thought”. You could feel your heart shredding at these words, once again.

“Control yourself”, you herd Snape’s words call out. You focused on them, allowing them to bring you back to the present.

You fought to focus on the memory created just moments ago, of Severus wrapping his cloak around you in order to ground yourself in the present, as you repeated his words in your mind.

‘Control yourself’.

As you continued to repeat those two words to yourself, you allowed your mind to empty. Memories attempted to flicker to the foreground, but each time you doused the memory in darkness.

Finally, Snape withdrew from your mind and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“Your reaction times are slow”, he mumbled.

“I know. I’m sorry-“.

“Stop apologising and act on it instead”, he snapped while you bit your lip to silence yourself. “With more practice you’ll improve. We will gradually increase the intensity until your mind is impenetrable”, he informs you.

For the next few hours, you repeat these steps; Snape invading your mind; you block him; repeat. By the end of your session, you had actually made some progress.

Before you left, you had unfastened Snape’s cloak from around your shoulders, dusting it off of any marks you may have left on it and admiring the luxurious material as you ran your hand over it.

“It was kind of you, allowing me to borrow this, Severus. Thank you”, you say, offering it back with a bashful smile. “I promise to bring a cloak of my own next time”.

He snatched the item of clothing from you, face unchanging. “Yes, that would be best”, he replied curtly as you made your way to the door.

“Thank you again for the lesson, Severus...”, you said, waiting for the potions master to say something in response. But he didn’t... and with that you left the classroom, leaving Severus clinging to his cloak.

119 notes · View notes

thomasisaslut · 9 months

Text

CURRENT WORKS

(WIP’S)

Harry Potter:

N/A

Marvel:

Shower/Morning — Thor Odinson x F!Reader

Daddy/Video Taping — Tony Stark x F!Reader

GoT/HoTD:

N/A

ACOTAR:

N/A

Shameless:

Gallavich Fics…

KINKTOBER IS BEING WORKED ON

GETS EDITED WHEN DIFFERENT PROGRESSION!

Edited Last: 10/19/23

114 notes · View notes

squid1442 · 9 days

Text

Severitus Wip :)!!

This is basically the Christmas scene in ‘A patchwork family’ on ao3 by @aspionagee , it’s an TOTAL work in progress buttt thought I should share it since I’m not reallyyyy sure wether I’ll finish it or not. It’s a pretty big piece lmao.

Also I love that fic.

52 notes · View notes

dramioneasks · 10 months

Note

Dramione has a kid. Draco doesn’t know. Draco is a professor at Hogwarts and sees this kid who looks exactly like him, but has Hermiones last name. Kids name is Henry Granger I think. Read it awhile ago. Might not be available anymore. Thanks!

This was asked before and we never found it :(

Edit: Thanks!

rachiequeen23: I think it's Run by realalwaysandforever on wattpad Run - NEW DRAMIONE!: - Wattpad

#anonymous #draco: hogwarts professor #draco doesn't know #children

22 notes · View notes

basiatlu · 8 months

Note

hello!! i saw your post about the art raffle and wanted to throw my prompt in the ring! i would LOVE to see more of your professor harry in short shorts, but maybe going for a morning jog with professor malfoy who is not at all good at exercising and can barely even make 1 lap while harry cheerfully jogs past him. just draco wheezing and sweating and staggering forward at a pitifully slow pace, harry with gorgeous thighs glistening in the morning light

I would love to see more of him, too, you knowhatimean

Professor Malfoy is too busy withering to enjoy the view, sadly.

Based off this silly cross country meme I found omg

#Harry’s such a sassmaster #professor au #hogwarts #harry potter #harry potter fanart #drarry #hpdm #harry in shorts #draco malfoy #art #drawing #sketch #artists on tumblr #doodle #digital art #comic #boshdraws #bosh art bash

418 notes · View notes

drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

Text

cw: mentions (off screen) child neglect/abuse

"Don't," Harry said without looking up, words coming out muffled against the sleeve of his jumper. He shouldn't have been surprised that Draco found him here, sitting at the end of the pier, knees against his chest as he stared out over the lake.

Draco sat down next to him, heat radiating from his body, "I haven't even said anything yet," he said, feet dangling over the edge.

He shook his head, he could feel Draco's eyes on him but would be damned if he looked over at him. Every thought, every feeling would be written on his face. It hadn't always been that way but at some point Harry's body had decided he was safe with the other man and refused to mask his emotions anymore. "I don't want it."

"Don't want what?" Draco asked and Harry knew that he was just trying to get him to say the words.

The temptation to look over just to glare at him in response was strong. He didn't want his kindness, his gentleness, didn't want his words telling Harry that he was good, that he was enough. Those were the words Draco always gave him when things like this happened and Harry burned with hatred for them. For himself. "Don't," he managed, voice low and wounded, dangerous.

For a moment Draco didn't say anything, didn't do anything apart from looking at Harry like he thought that staring at him would make Harry look back. The silence couldn't last, unfortunately, "It's not your fault," he said, looking out over the lake. "And self-flagellating doesn't actually fix anything."

He looked over at Draco, "Sitting here is not about fixing things," he replied, voice scathing. "A child is actively living through trauma, Draco," he said because maybe that reminder would awaken something in him, would make him feel the same burning, agonizing resentment that was consuming Harry.

"I know," Draco said calmly.

"And they're going to send her back to them!" he roared, chest heaving. "She is living in a home where the adults demonstrate with their words and their actions that she doesn't matter." He shook his head, "She's eleven and she said that she was glad that she was here so that she didn't have to be such a burden on her family. How it would probably be easier for them and they'd be happier if she just didn't exist. What the fuck?!" he shouted, beyond frustrated, beyond any hope that there was anything he could do to make this world any less fucked up.

Draco rested a hand on his shoulder but Harry shrugged him off.

"Don't fucking touch me," he spit.

Draco said nothing and Harry recoiled from himself, he didn't want to hurt the other man, didn't want to slice him open the way that Harry was feeling torn to shreds.

"I can't. I told you not to push," Harry said, "I fucking told you to leave me alone."

"Harry," Draco said softly, "I'm not going anywhere."

"You should be!" He stood and paced away from the other man, still not looking at him, he couldn't bear to. He already knew what Draco's face would be doing, knew the soft set of his mouth, the wrinkle between his eyebrows, the way his eyes would say all of the words that Harry couldn't bear to hear. "I'm not in a good place right now."

"I know that," Draco replied steadily, "I'm not going anywhere."

"And when I just keep shouting at you? Pushing you away? What then?"

He hummed, "You're not actually mad at me. You're mad, and rightfully so," he said emphatically, "I'm mad, too. Your anger is right, and just, and good," he said. "And I am more than happy to bear witness to it. I want to bear witness to you, to your anger and your grief, to your guilt and shame. I want to see you."

"I don't want you to," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't want you to see me. I want to be kind to you, good to you," he said. "I want to treat you with gentleness and care, and I can't do that when I feel like this."

Draco looked over his shoulder at where Harry was standing and their eyes met. It shot straight through Harry and all of the emotions that he'd been holding back, trying to rationalize, trying to tamp down, came rushing to the surface.

"I don't want to," he said, shaking his head, eyes stinging with grief, rage hot in his chest, both things making it nearly impossible to draw a deep enough breath. "I don't want you to see it."

"I know," Draco murmured. "Thanks for letting me anyway."

He shook his head, "It's not fair," he murmured, defeated.

"No, it's not," Draco agreed. "None of this is fair."

"You didn't see her face," he whispered. "You didn't see her eyes or hear the way that she talked," he scrubbed his hands over his face. "My whole fucking heart just-" he gasped out, trying to articulate the way his entire heart had shattered into a thousand piece that he didn't think he'd ever be able to put back together, but not even able to complete his sentence.

"Thank you," Draco said.

"For what?" he asked incredulously, because nothing he'd done had done any good. Talking to Minerva, talking to the child protective services in the muggle community she was from, none of it mattered. There weren't any visible marks of abuse, they weren't going to do anything.

Draco gave him a sad little smile and it twisted the knife even deeper into Harry's heart. "For coming to work today," he said softly. "For seeing our students, and loving our students, and being a safe space for them-"

"It doesn't matter!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see?" he asked. "Fuck. There's nothing I can do. Nothing is going to change for her-"

"Everything has changed for her-"

"How?" he exploded. "She's still going to have to go back there when school ends in four weeks. She's going to spend the summer pretending that she doesn't exist, wishing that she didn't exist."

He stood up and took Harry's face in his hands so that Harry made eye contact. "Having someone listen, having someone see you, it changes everything. You're right, the system is fucked up, everything about this is awful. But what you did for her, it matters. You listening matters."

"It's not enough," he said, closing his eyes as the tears spilled down his cheeks. "It's not."

"It's not," Draco agreed and that last bit standing in Harry's heart shattered, the last vestige of hope completely snuffed out. "But you are."

He huffed a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob.

"You, being you is enough. It's not going to fix everything," he agreed. "It isn't. But it doesn't mean that you aren't enough."

"I don't feel like enough," he whispered, the words like knives as they left his throat. "I just feel like I fail them over, and over, and over again."

"You're not."

"I feel like I've got nothing to give them," he confessed, "like what's the point of teaching them defense against the dark arts when it's not monsters and evil wizards that they're fighting? It's the adults who treat them like they're nothing, it their own fucking learned behaviors, and trauma, and thought patterns that they're going to fight the rest of their lives. What's the point?"

Draco was quiet for a heartbeat and Harry opened his eyes to look at him. "You don't treat them like they're nothing."

"Of course I don't," he replied, so offended by the mere suggestion that he could ever-

"It's enough. You are enough," he repeated. "They need you to be you," he said softly, "that's it. They just need you to see them and hear them. It's enough."

"It doesn't feel like it," he said, more tears spilling out without his consent.

He nodded wrapping his arms lightly around Harry's waist, giving him the freedom to pull away if he wanted to. "I know," he said softly.

And Harry collapsed against him, body resting heavily against Draco's. "I can't do it," he whispered, all gaping, aching weakness.

"You're not alone," Draco said softly, kissing his temple. "You don't have to do it alone."

"Promise?"

Draco nodded, "I promise love. I'm not going anywhere."

------------------------