#hp fan fic

[myfictionaldreams]

17: Magic - Draco Malfoy

Kinktober Day 17. Magic - Draco Malfoy x potter!reader

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, potter!reader, untouched pleasure, magic, nearly caught, intense orgasm, blowjob, overstimulated,  nicknames, no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 

The day had moved by slowly and by the time you were sat at the Gryffindor table with your brother and fellow housemates, you were relieved to see that the sun was beginning to set for the evening.

However, as you spooned some fresh mashed potato onto your plate, an unsual and intense sensation coursed through all of your veins: pleasure. Not any normal pleasure that would be experienced with touching of a hand or even a toy, but the pleasure that had you becoming dizzy, skin burning to be touched, never wanting it to end.

Shaking your head, you tried to ignore it, unsure as to what to do, legs clenching together to try and apply some pressure against your clit but nothing helped to reduce the pleasure. You couldn’t even lift up your fork to eat as your hands gently shook in your lap, you needed to get out of sight.

Glancing around, you made sure no one was noticing what you were going through when your eyes caught sight of a smirking blonde who was dressed in a plain black suit, watching with dark eyes from the Slytherin table. Of course, it had to be Draco.

His smile widen just as the sensation increased, it was definitely him, he loved to play these stupid games with you, seeing just how close he could get before being caught and having to alter the individual's memories.

Your skin itched with want, needing to be out of these clothes, you needed to get away from this room full of people. It was this exact moment when your brother's voice drifted into your senses, “are you ok? You’re quiet” he questioned.

Snapping your head towards him, you tried to keep your voice quiet, afraid that you would moan instead of responding with words, “yeah I'm fine”.

Pulses of euphoria were coursing through your body, it was almost like you were going to orgasm but you couldn’t do that surrounded by all these people, you knew you couldn’t hold back your voice during those moments. Even now, you could feel how wet your underwear was becoming and today or all days you’d decided to wear a skirt, how long would it be before your cunt was dribbling down your thighs?

Standing suddenly with unsteady feet, you just about managed to climb over the bench, not caring about anyone else, just needing to get out of the public eye but once again your brother’s voice interrupted you.

“Wait, where are you going?” Harry asks with worry lacing his tone.

You wave him off, “uh nothing, I’m just not feeling very well”.

“Well let me take you to madam Pomfrey then” he suggests, moving to stand up but you quickly brush him off.

“No no it’s fine Harry, I’ve just got cramps that’s all, I just need to lie down for a bit” before he even had time to respond you were racing out of the door, undoing your tie, everything felt so claustrophobic.

You hunched over on the steps up to the common room, mind racing, body alight with want and need. Needing to be out of your clothes, needing to touch your engorged clit that was still pulsing desperate for release, even a bit of spit was dribbling down your chin as you seemed to be completely overwhelmed.

It was just as you audibly released a moan and did a strong hand wrap around your upper arm, tugging you a few more steps up and down a darkened corridor before tossing you into an abandoned classroom at the perfect time.

As the candles surrounding the room lit up, the door shutting and locking behind whoever had thrown you in here, was the exact moment that you came. Knees unable to support you anymore as you pulled off your underwear desperately hands cupping your sex as the pleasure was too much, your screams echoing around the stone walls.

The orgasm lasted longer than your usual ones and you were drained by the time the clenching had ceased, just about ready to slump onto the floor in front when an arm steadied your body, shifting you back against his hard chest.

“Careful Potter” he mumbled, sounding slightly breathless but not as much as you were.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, senses finally returning, knowing fully well that Draco was the one holding you up and that he had all the answers.

“Just an experiment of mine” he chuckled darkling, kissing just below your ear.

“Well, that hardly seems fair” you responded, turning on your knees, ignoring the ache that sparked through them from where you had fallen onto them only moments ago.

“When have I ever been fair, love?” he muttered, stroking his wand under your chin, tilting it further up before releasing it and directing it back towards your cunt, “play nice now Potter”.

He didn’t give you any chance to respond before allowing the spell to take effect once more but not nearly as intense, this time it just made your cunt clench, biting your lip as you watched him stand to his fall height, looking down at you on your knees in front of him.

Draco didn’t need to give you your next instruction as you all but jumped onto his belt, eagerly undoing it and pulling down his zipper, reaching into his underwear to reveal his already ragingly hard cock.

The Slytherin hissed as you were quick to toss him off, noting the precum already lubing him up before inching yourself closer. Opening your mouth wide, your tongue stuck out, licking his tip, savouring in the salty goodness before taking him deeper.

This was his favourite sight, seeing his cock disappearing between your lips, loving the way your eyes rolled back as it hit the back of your throat, the expert way in which you used your other two hands to squeeze the base and his balls. Especially when you moaned, the vibrations sending pleasuring waves through his member which is all where his spell idea came from, hoping to drive you so insane with lust that you were jumping on his cock.

Merlin, it worked well. Tilting his wand hand, your pleasure increased, the heat returning all over your body and you had to refrain from ripping your own clothes off, instead just focusing on pleasuring Draco, feeling your juices dribble from between your legs.

This was only doable for a few moments however as he only continued to increase the spells work, until you had to release the grip on his cock and start rubbing against your clit which was already overstimulated as it was and that seemed to be the magic touch to have you cuming again and again.

Your eyes were glazed over, thighs screaming from holding your position on your knees, pussy puffy and soaked to match the wet patch coating the floor, lips were also swollen from sucking Draco’s cock and he had to say, this was definitely his new favourite sight, you, completely cock-drunk.

He dropped his wand now, stopping all pleasure but the afterglow of so many orgasms was blissful, his hand now holding the back of your head, his balls tightening against his chin as you took him right to the back of your throat. A heartbeat later, his cum was coating your mouth, and you did well to swallow every drop, not wasting any of it.

Releasing his grip on the back of your head, he tucked his cock back away before dropping down onto his own knees, cradling your exhausted body against his. His long fingers gently stroked your cheek, giving you all the time you needed to recover before kissing you lightly on your temple and assisting you to your feet, knees impossibly unsteady.

“Better head back before people start wondering where you are” you nod, breathing him in for a moment, calming yourself before fixing your attire with the help of Draco who waved his wand, cleaning the patch on the floor and the sweat/juices over your legs, kissing you one last time before leaving first, checking the corridor was still empty.

[sliebman10]

Saturday Snippet

I just posted a Wolfstar one shot written in the style of a classic fairy tale. I got the idea from @mikaharuka , and it all came pouring out in the last few days. Special thanks to @tsunderewatermelon for the title ❤️.

(cw: mention of injury)

Snippet:

When he finally put the violin down, he saw Remus had awakened and was watching him with a soft expression in his eyes.

“You play beautifully, my lord.”

“Sirius,” Sirius reminded him. “How does your leg fare? Do you require a change in dressing?”

“Possibly. I do not know.” Sirius stood and opened the dressing. He took a fresh cloth and cleaned the wound again and closed it up with a fresh dressing. “How do you know how to do that? Aren’t you part of the Noble family?”

“Yes. But my father bid me join the army for a stint and I learned field medicine during that time,” Sirius said. “Are you truly here all alone?”

“Yes,” Remus replied quietly.

“Do…do you want me to stay with you?” Sirius asked, his inflection uncertain.

“Yes,” was the almost immediate reply. “Will anyone in your family miss you? I do not wish to create any trouble.”

“It is no trouble,” Sirius said. He caught sight of a mark on the inside of Remus’s left wrist. “May I?” Remus offered his wrist and Sirius turned it over. There, on Remus’s wrist was a black tattoo of the moon.

“Where did you get this mark?” Sirius asked.

“It’s the most peculiar thing,” Remus said. “It appeared on my wrist after we met. It waxes with the moon.”

Sirius looked at him, wide-eyed. He unbuttoned the cuff of his shirtsleeve and rolled it up. “I have one too.”

Read more here.

[celestialseawitch-ff]

🌹

A little Supernatural/HP crossover for your reading pleasure:

“Alright,” Dean said as he stood back up. “Go on, I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Hermione nodded. She squeezed Harry’s hand once in comfort before slowly making her way to the bathroom on swollen and tender feet. The second the door closed, Harry was on his feet and both men were squaring off.

“What the hell is going on here?” Dean demanded in a low voice. “The truth.”

“None of your bloody business,” Harry hissed back just as quietly.

“Look, kid. You’re clearly in some kind of trouble. I’m not a fucking idiot. I don’t care if you think you’re some big macho man that can take care of himself, but that girl needs help. Are you going to be able to protect her too? Are you willing to?”

“I’ll protect Hermione with my life.”

The answer gave Dean pause. It wasn’t the reckless assertion of most kids saying what they think an adult wanted to hear. Harry sounded like he meant it -- like he already had put his life forward once before. It reminded Dean of the way Sam and he had always spoken about each other and his heart ached in response. 

“Then tell me what’s going on,” Dean insisted, his voice mellowing to a more sympathetic tone.

The softer tone did nothing for Harry. His lip curled and he sneered, “Oh, and I’m just supposed to trust you?”

“I could have left you on the side of that road,” Dean reasoned coldly. “I could have killed you between here and there. I’m the only person you got right now so how about you give me something?”

Harry stared at him for a long moment, his blood boiling within his veins. He’d never responded well to self imposed authority figures and Dean’s soldier-like voice and demeanour were grating on his nerves. 

“We’ll be gone in the morning.” 

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

details

Day 6 of the Summer Soirée has arrived! Today we have some George and Angelina camping goodness featuring the rest of the Weasley clan from the George/Angie queen herself, @lanaturnergetup!

Read below or on AO3 here

username: lanaturnergetup prompt: snitch & camping summary: The Weasleys go on a camping trip, which leads George and Angelina to make a decision about their future.

*

It is six in the morning, and Angelina Johnson is fucking angry. Her stupid boyfriend – no, her stupid fiancé, she keeps forgetting – has gone and spilled hot chocolate down the front of her favourite shirt, the white shirt that makes her skin look golden and her eyes brighter than usual, and she’s very, very close to throwing something at him.

The stupid way he’s looking at her doesn’t help,with his rumpled morning hair and sleepy eyes – it does nothing for her temper. 

(Well, it helps some, but she’s not going to admit it.).

“I can just get that off with a spell, though, Angie,” he says, and takes a cautious step towards her, hands raised as if in self-defence – good. He should be defending himself. She’s fought in a war and deals with grumpy, know-it-all Healers at work everyday, but she’s never been closer to murder than right at this second. 

“It’s not the same, though,” she says, crossing her arms. “I’ll always know it was stained.” 

“I’ll… buy you a new shirt?” George offers.

Angelina scoffs. “Who drinks hot chocolate in the morning, anyway?” 

“You’re the one who told me not to have caffeine this early in the morning!” 

“Yes, because you know the sort of headaches you get when you have too much caffeine–”

“I know, I’m just saying–” George stops, mid-word, and looks at her. 

There’s a smirk on his face, and she says, “What?” 

“Nothing,” he says.

“Spit it out, Weasley.” 

“It’s just… well. We’re bickering like an old married couple, aren’t we?” 

Angelina thinks of her parents, of her mum saying you forgot to buy sugar and now I have to take my coffee without it, you idiot to her father. Her temper settles down as easily as it had flared up, and she brings her hand up, looking at the ring on her finger, the ring that’s been there since last week. It’s a ruby in a slim gold band, and it glints in the early morning sunlight. “We are, a bit,” she says.

George steps closer to Angelina, and takes her hand, using it to pull her in for a kiss. “Good thing we’re engaged then, isn’t it?” 

“Saves us time, I suppose,” Angelina says, and then loses track of the thread of the conversation as she kisses him. She thinks she might be content standing there, kissing her stupid, aggravating fiancé, forever. 

“You’re getting late!” the clock shouts at them, breaking their reverie. George jumps, and the remnant of hot chocolate in the mug he’s holding spills over her shirt. She doesn’t even bat an eyelid this time.

Angelina pulls away with a sigh, and rests her head down on George’s shoulder. “Remind me never to accept gifts from your mum again.” 

“The clock’s useful, though, isn’t it?” George says. He lifts the clock up, taps it with his wand to shut it up (the clock lets out an indignant squawk before going silent), and sets it back down on the nightstand. 

Angelina looks down ruefully. “I think my shirt’s well and truly fucked,” she says.

“I prefer you without a shirt, anyway,” George says.

Angelina swats at him as she walks to the wardrobe to get another top for herself. “Can’t go shirtless on a family camping trip, can I?”

“You’ll never know for sure unless you try,” George says wisely. 

Angelina throws a set of wadded-up Healer robes at him. She doesn’t turn around, but she can hear his laugh and the way he whistles as he walks to the kitchen. It makes her smile. Just as he always does. 

*

They’re meant to arrive at the campsite bright and early, at half past seven in the morning, and because George and Angelina are nothing if not consistent, they arrive a little bit after eight, after the tents are already set up. 

“You’re here,” Arthur greets them delightedly, pulling them into hugs. 

It seems like everyone’s here already; the Weasley family has grown large over the last few years, and the seven tents are set up in a semicircle around a sad-looking fire pit. There’s a low thrum of activity and noise that Angelina associates with Hogwarts during meal times and with the Weasleys during… well, during any time. 

“Nearly everyone’s here,” Arthur continues, confirming Angelina’s suspicion. “Apart from Charlie, he only gets here in the evening. Oh, and Percy’s bringing Audrey–”

“Is he?” George says, grinning.

“And I’ve promised him we’ll all be perfectly nice and welcoming to her.” Arthur gives George a pointed look. 

“Of course I’ll be nice,” George says, “to her. Now Prefect Percy on the other hand…”

Angelina laughs. 

They get swept up into it soon enough. Two minutes after George and Angelina settle down and set their small case in the tent they’re sharing with Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry, Angelina finds herself in a spirited debate over whether the Chudley Canons have any hope of defeating Puddlemere United this season.

“Absolutely. The Canons are going to win, Puddlemere’s defence were terrible last year,” Ron says.

“Every part of the Canons is terrible, though,” Ginny says. 

“Don’t say that, we’re improving–” 

“Course they’re improving now. It’s impossible for them to get any worse, isn’t it?” Angelina puts in. 

Harry and Hermione choose to ignore the Quidditch rivalry discussion and get into a conversation of their own about, of all things, the defensive measures the Ministry is teaching the newest batch of Aurors, while George watches. 

“I just don’t think it’s enough, the training they’re undergoing–”

“They have more formal training than I got, Hermione.”

“That’s different, though. You had field experience, didn’t you? We all did.” 

“That’s one way to put defeating old Voldy, isn’t it? Field experience,” George repeats with a snort.

“Oi,” Charlie, who’s apparently arrived now, calls out from outside, his voice ringing through the tent and making Angelina jump, “Family Quidditch game, let’s go!” 

“Do you ever feel like Charlie’s gotten into the habit of talking to us all as if we’re all Welsh Greens or something?” Ron grumbles.

“Don’t get me started,” Harry says. “Last time I brought Teddy around for dinner, Charlie taught him all about dragons, and now Teddy throws a fit if we read him any book that isn’t Sven the Swedish Short-Snout. I could recite that book in my sleep.” 

“Nothing more attractive than the Chosen One reading to his godson, though,” Ginny says cheerfully, and kisses Harry’s cheek as she gets up. 

Angelina nudges George as they walk out of the tent together. “Look at them, flirting on a family camping trip,” she says.

“Terrible,” George agrees. “Setting a bad example for young Victoire.” 

“The worst,” Angelina agrees.

“Unlike us,” George says, wrapping his arm around Angelina’s waist. “On our best behaviour and all that. Setting a good example for the youth.” 

“Definitely a better example than when we were living together, ignoring your parents and my dad whenever they asked us when we’d get married.” 

George pauses. They’re at the entrance of the tent, and the others have gone ahead of them. “Shit,” he says. “You’re right. We are setting a good example, aren’t we?” 

He looks genuinely horrified and Angelina, laughing, leans up to kiss him. “If it helps, I’m sure you’ll still give Percy hell about Audrey and make your mum angry,” she offers. 

“That does help. Thanks, Angie,” George says. 

*

They only manage to play for about an hour before the golf ball they’re using for a Snitch hits Charlie’s nose and the game falls to a quick end.

“Here, Charlie,” Harry says, dismounting from his broom easily and pointing his wand at Charlie’s nose. “Episkey.”

Charlie touches his newly repaired nose. “Cheers,” he says, delighted.

“Blood’s still on your face, though,” Bill says. “Come on, Mum’ll help you get that off.” He grabs his arm and tugs him towards Molly, who’s watching them with a look of vague nervousness. 

George slips his hand into Angelina’s as the rest of the group disperses, either to go help Charlie or, in Ron and Ginny’s case, to go ask Arthur if it’s time to get a move on dinner just yet. 

“Do you think Charlie’ll be alright?” Angelina asks.

George waves a hand. “He’ll be fine. A golf ball’s nothing compared to a dragon, innit?”

Angelina considers that. “Sounds about right, yeah. Still, maybe we should’ve used something else for a Snitch, not a golf ball. Can’t be fun, getting hit with one.” 

“You know, I almost proposed to you with a Snitch,” George says. It’s apropos of nothing, but it has Angelina’s attention immediately. 

Angelina turns to look at him, and blinks. “Are you serious? Like one of the Snitches that open up and reveal a ring?” 

“It was an idea,” George says. “Would you have said yes?” 

“Probably,” Angelina admits. “But it would have been despite your proposal, not because of it.” 

“You wound me, Angelina Johnson,” George says. 

Angelina grins. “Did you go as far as to buy the Snitch?” 

“Course I did. Almost had it engraved,” George says.

“I want to see it,” Angelina says immediately. 

“What, so you can laugh at me?” 

“A bit, yeah.” 

George grins. “Sounds about right.” 

*

Dinner’s a loud affair, even by usual Weasley standards; if it weren’t for the several – several – Muggle-Repellant Charms, Angelina’s sure someone would’ve found them out by now.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione help Molly with dinner; Ginny claims to be helping Arthur, but it seems like they’re just sitting by the fireplace and chatting. The rest of them watch Bill and Charlie argue about whether they need to conjure up one picnic table or two for all of them.

“It’s simple, if you just do the maths for how many people are going to eat,” Audrey says patiently. “The width of the average table that the wizard conjures up–”

“Audrey, come on. We don’t calculate in this family,” George says.

“Well, Percy does,” Charlie says fairly.

“But we don’t, which is probably how Mum and Dad ended up with as many kids as they have,” George says. 

“Just you wait,” Bill tells George and Angelina. “Once you’re married, you won’t be far behind, either.” 

Angelina, who’s only ever wanted two children at the most, gives George a panicked look. 

“He’s right,” Fleur says, “everything changes after you get married. Now that you are engaged, you’ll see.” 

“Dinner’s ready,” Molly announces. 

Hermione walks up to them with a pile of cutlery in her hands and rolls her eyes. “Honestly, you still don’t have tables?”

“We tried to tell them,” Percy says, shaking his head.

Bill rolls his eyes and waves his wand, causing three tables to appear. 

“Bill, you could have warned us,” Molly says, jumping out of the way before a table leg can crush her foot.

“Sorry, Mum – here, let me help you with that.”

Angelina finds herself sandwiched between Percy and Fleur for dinner, with George and Harry right opposite her.

“Let’s see the ring again,” Molly says eagerly; Angelina’s happy to oblige and hold hold her hand up. 

“Oh, it’s just gorgeous. Good taste, George.” 

“Cheers, Mum,” George says easily, sending some potatoes over to Angelina’s plate with a flick of his wand. 

She raises her plate to catch them, exchanging a smile with him before she starts to dig in. Even in a remote campsite in the woods, Molly Weasley’s food is nothing short of delicious, and after the Quidditch match, the hot food warms up her stomach and makes her want nothing more than to dig in. 

“Have you thought about the wedding yet?” Hermione asks eagerly.

“Er… no, not really,” Angelina says.

“Ginny and Harry have just started thinking about theirs, haven’t you?” Molly asks them eagerly.

Ginny nods. “In the autumn, I think. Somewhere outdoors would be nice. Like Bill’s.” 

“It’ll be beautiful. We can have it at home,” Molly says.

“Who’ll be your maid of honour?” Fleur asks Angelina.

“Probably Alicia, right?” Ginny says. “Hermione’s going to be mine.” 

“You’ll want to ask Alicia soon, then,” Fleur says wisely. “I remember, at my wedding…” 

Angelina can feel her smile fade off her face as she listens to Fleur, and she looks across the table at George. She wonders if he feels the same familiar sinking feeling in his gut that she’s feeling, that’s taking her over. It’s gotten slower, more gradual, but never fully faded. 

She thinks, for the first time, about a wedding, about all it entails. About the empty seat where her mother would be. 

When she was younger, not even a teenager yet, she used to discuss her wedding with her mother. She would make her mother get out her wedding photos to show her, and tell her, When I get married, I’m going to have a pretty dress like yours, and my bridesmaids will wear golden, and we’ll eat chocolate cake, and Dad will be in charge of the music, and–

Her mother would laugh, every time, and tell her, You’re focusing on the wrong thing. If you find someone who’s wonderful enough that you want to be with them forever, everything else is just… details.

She thinks about that now. A wedding doesn’t feel like just details, it feels like something hanging over her, reminding her about how everything’s different from how she ever envisioned it, about how everything they discuss now feels almost like a reminder of everything they lost.

She thinks, like she often does, about Fred, who she and George talk about now and then, but who’s the subject of almost all their silences. 

George looks a bit stricken as he looks at her. As if he knows what she’s thinking about. As if he’s thinking about something similar himself. 

Harry turns and looks at them, and then says, “It’s really delicious, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Oh, thank you, dear, but I’ve told you, you can call me Molly, there’s no need to–”

Angelina tunes out the rest of their conversation and, without looking up from her plate, knocks her foot against George’s. She wonders if he’s thinking about the same thing she is; from the way he’s gone quiet, she thinks he is. 

*

Angelina wakes George up in the middle of the night. She doesn’t mean to, but she can’t sleep, and when she rolls over in the bed, she hits his shoulder by mistake.

“What’s up, Johnson?” he mumbles, moving to wrap his arm around her and closing his eyes again.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you’re not asleep and it’s arse o’clock in the night. S’the matter?” 

Angelina doesn’t want to say that Ron’s snoring kept her awake because she knows George won’t let Ron hear the end of it tomorrow. Instead, she says, “You know what’s cheesier than proposing to me with a Snitch ring?”

“What?” George asks. He still sounds sleepy, but there’s a smile spreading onto his face.

“Wizards who rent out a Quidditch pitch for the wedding.”

“Merlin. Do people do that?” 

“According to last week’s Witch Weekly, they do.”

“Maybe we should suggest that to Harry and Ginny,” George says. 

Angelina turns to the side to muffle her giggles against George’s shoulder. “Imagine that, your baby sister and our baby Seeker getting married on a Quidditch pitch.” 

“Rita Skeeter would love that,” George says. His hand lazily traces down her arm, and she finds herself relaxing into the touch. “Don’t think it’s quite our style, though,” he says. 

His voice is casual, and she forces herself to match it when she says, “No, definitely not.” 

“Far too many people, for one.” 

“I don’t even know if we know enough people to fill up a Quidditch pitch.” 

“We do, but… probably not people we want at our wedding.” 

“No,” Angelina says. “In fact…”

George looks at her. He’s got a look in his eyes that she recognises: soft and serious, the way he only seems to get with her. All his edges sanded away. “In fact what?”

“In fact, I’m not sure I’m convinced about this wedding business at all,” she says. She feels better for having said it, immediately better. It’s a load off her chest. 

“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about marrying me,” George says. 

“No, you idiot,” Angelina says. “I’m certain about marrying you. I don’t think I could put up with anyone else for the rest of my life.”

“That’s sweet, that. True romance.”

“I’m convinced about the marriage,” she says. “Just… not about the wedding.” 

George doesn’t say anything for a moment. “The only person I want to be my best man is my dead brother.” 

Angelina brings her hand up to rest on his cheek. “Could always have a wedding without a best man,” she says quietly.

“We could,” George says.

“And without my mum.” 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” she repeats. 

Neither of them sound very convinced. George rolls over onto his side so he’s facing her properly, and wraps his arm around her waist. “Or…” he says.

Angelina looks up at him, at the way his eyes are beginning to light up. “Or…?” 

“Or we could give my mother a heart attack,” George says, very casually, “by eloping and letting them know at the next family dinner.”

“She would have a heart attack,” Angelina says. “So would my dad.” 

“Oh, he absolutely would,” George agrees. “But think of the money we’d save on a wedding.”

“And the time,” Angelina says. “Takes a lot of time to plan a wedding. We don’t have that much time.” 

“Not with how busy you are at work,” George says.

“What about you? You’re opening that new shop soon, aren’t you?”

“The one in Godric’s Hollow or the one in Upper Flagley?” 

“I don’t know. Either. Both?” 

“We’re opening the one in Godric’s Hollow next month, yeah.” 

“So not too much time to plan a wedding, right?”

“Right. We’re very busy people,” George agrees.

Angelina thinks about it for a moment, and then grins. “So… we’re doing this, then?”

George muffles a yawn against the back of his hand. “May as well,” he agrees. “Let me know when you get a day off work next, and we can go and get married. How’s that?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she agrees.

“Glad we’re settled on that, then,” George says. “Should we get some sleep?” 

Angelina feels light and happy, excited in a way that’s the polar opposite of how she felt during dinner. “Yes,” she says, “Let’s.” 

[lexieqq2]

Ah, so I see either Jegulus can be happy or Wolfstar can be happy. But not usually both at the same time. Actually never both at the same time. Interestingly they can both be devestating and traumatic at the same time. What fun.

[dramionedaydream]

Dramione mistaken identity turned marriage story "Call Me Psyche" updated to Chapter 26

by diamonddaydream

Excerpt:

“He’s out there alone,” Hermione went on. “After months of following him all over the country, watching over his tent while he slept – Harry has wound up alone.”

Draco perched his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know if it helps for you to think of it this way, but if he’s gone to meet Voldemort, he won’t be alone. Voldemort never meets anyone alone. It’s meant to be a show of his strength and support. But it’s really a show of his fear. And there's nothing he's more afraid of than Potter.”

She sighed and let her head sink back against Draco's.

“My parents will be with him,” Draco went on. “My mother will be there, with your wand in her hand.”

Hermione hummed. “Will that help Harry?”

There was a pause as Draco considered it. “I can’t say. But I know it won’t hurt him.”

“What if Voldemort figures out you’re master of the Elder wand, like we did?” she said, finding Draco’s hand and flattening her palm against his, studying the differences between his long, white fingers and hers. "I'm not sure the Triad wands will hold back a direct attack from the Elder wand."

“Andromeda did say the wands could defy, but not defeat the Deathstick,” he said.

“Don’t call it that,” she said, turning to face him, pushing him onto his back on the cushions and lying on his chest. In spite of the wind, he was warm, his heart beating steadily against her ear. “We need to think of some other way to keep you safe if he comes. If he isn't able to kill Harry yet because you're alive and you have the Elder wand's allegiance, he won’t hesitate to have you killed some other way.”

Draco plunged his hand into her hair, nestling her closer. It was true, but what could he do short of running and hiding? No, there was nothing for him to do but lie here and savour holding her for what might be the last time. It didn’t feel like the last time, but who can ever know something like that?

All at once, she propped herself up to look at his face. "Would your parents defy him if he attacked you?"

Draco sighed again, his voice in it, a miserable sound. "My mother might. My father – no."

His sadness, well-hidden up until now, was unbearable to her. She climbed up his torso so their faces were level, her lips hovering over his, almost touching.

“This is not helping me think of a way to defeat the Elder wand,” Draco warned. But it was not a complaint, and his hands found the warm smoothness of her waist inside her jumper.

“Let’s take just a moment,” she said, brushing her mouth against his. “Just one moment to be Cupid and Psyche again...”

Read on ao3 or ffn

[draqo-pctter]

Pansy studied him carefully. "You need to figure out what you are and aren't willing to risk."

"And how do I do that?" he asked. Pansy shrugged and stood up.

"Look at it this way," she said. "There are a million men who would kill for your position. Forget the magazine, your wealth, and whatever trauma you're unwilling to work through. You have Hermione's love. And I know that it hurts her to be away from you. Instead of worrying about what he has that you don't, worry about why you aren't giving what she deserves."

chapter twenty: the prince’s only love

dramione au | rated m | chapter 20/22

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

Hey Krissy! For the ask game, how about numbers 1 and 3 or 4 from your Where do we go from here? series, please? (which I love to bits) You can do for all of the fics in it or one/some or overall,, anything you like ❣️ Thank you

Hi CBG! Oh gods, I've been meaning to answer this for a while, so now is better than never! I'm glad you're enjoying these little one shots for this whole arc (which will have something added to it later this year since I have 1-2 one shots in progress already). 1: What inspired you to write the fic this way? Where do I even start? You know, when I wanted to get back into writing again in 2020, I need something to motivate me so I thought I’d pick up a prompt table from rarepair_shorts to do that. I had already been drawing Perciver for a while, and I had binge-read everything that existed. But I wanted more content with missing moments and scenes from Percy’s PoV and Oliver’s PoV that loosely followed canon. So, I decided to go make that myself, I guess? I have no chill and I'm self-indulgent. 😂 Rather than writing a bunch of random one shots, I adapted the prompt table as my foundation to make a world where Percy and Oliver are best friends, go through the ups and downs of growing up, break apart and then reunite. Because those are all normal things that happen in life. And they're human. When I was outlining how each prompt would inspire something for a fic, I ended up with a really big doc that became my blueprints for this series. I also decided to say screw it with the "rules," and I've written what I have so far out of order and I've been updating that way too. A lot of my writing ends up being influenced by what I can provide at a given moment, and sometimes, chronological order doesn't always work (and can hinder the creative juices). When I finally posted up Little did I know in May 2021 (because yeah, it took a year to finish, edit and have the bravery to post something I wrote after not having done that in a looonggg time), I had low expectations. And I knew there wasn't nearly as much traction for rare pairs as there are for common ships. But I'm grateful I wrote something for myself, and I'm still proud of how it came out. LOL, little did I know that people would eat that story right up and want more. The rest is history. 😉 3: What’s your favorite line of narration? From Love me like that:

But there was something about the way Percy pronounced and stressed syllables so smoothly in Gàidhlig that made his blood run hot.

I adore this line because the fact that Percy knows how to speak Scottish Gaelic, and that Oliver likes that a lot gives me all the feels (and being able to incorporate Gaelic in this fic put some of my knowledge to good use!). 4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? From There's a guiding light, this is more of a dialogue excerpt:

“You’re already an expert though,” Percy stated, lips quirking up as the husky nuzzled his fingers before taking off. “Only because I know what to focus on now,” Oliver admitted, an unexpected flush colouring his cheeks. “Your turn.”

This right here, just shows how much Oliver cares (and loves) Percy. As a friend, and human being, and this is what I appreciate about these two. 💖 Thanks for the asks! ___ Have more fan fic q's? Feel free to ask away!

[the-francakes]

for my birthday, I’m doing an hp fic rec countdown so today I present:

Far Be It From Me by @riptey

Draco works in the dementia ward at St. Mungo's, and he loves his job, but he doesn't feel comfortable anywhere else. Recurring tremors in his hands make it hard for him to do things, and he's too embarrassed to let anyone see. So when his schoolboy crush, Hermione Granger, suddenly reappears in his life, all he can do is push her away.​

[tessaservopoulos]

you are mine again

fandom: harry potter pairing: molly/arthur weasley (+ the boys) rating: K summary: Arthur finds her looking in on the twins.

All the boys are sleeping soundly, and he drops his hand to his wife’s waist lightly, not wanting to startle her. But Molly barely stirs, eyes trained on the sleeping children in their beds, red hair poking out under the covers. He can feel the tension under her muscles, and Arthur drops a kiss to the round of her shoulder through the fabric of her dress.

notes:  I did not have "fall back into the Harry Potter hole" in my 2023 bingo card, but here I am. I've also adored the Weasley's, so I wanted to write a little glimpse into their post-First Wizarding War life. I'll probably return to this era quite a lot. Title is from Mine Again by Zach Bryan. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy :)

[acciostories]

Story Update: Time and Time Again, Chapter 37 - A Change in Staff

Story Update: Time and Time Again, Chapter 37 - A Change in Staff

There’s a new chapter for my fanfiction Time and Time Again. Check it out!

Story Synopsis:

During the battle at the Department of Mysteries, Hermione is knocked unconscious. When her old DADA professor wakes her up, and tells her to run, she takes off and goes through an unfamiliar door. Little did Hermione know, the door she goes through sends her 20 years into the past. Eventually RL/HG.

Rating: T

Links:

Time and Time Again (AO3 link)

Chapter 37 (AO3 link)

Chapter Peek:

“Oi, Evans!” called out James.

Lily turned from her group of friends and rolled her eyes at James, but she wore a faint smile. She said something else to the group of girls before walking over to them.

“Not going to try to ask me out again, Potter?” Lily asked, shaking her head as she stopped in front of them.

“Not this time. Why? Did you want me too?” asked James with a wink.

Lily snorted, and James’s grin widened.

“Hello, Lily.”

“Hello, James.”

“I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this year,” said James, holding out his new Head Boy badge.

Lily’s mouth dropped in fake surprise but her eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“Head Boy! You? I thought it was a joke when I heard!” laughed Lily she looked down at the badge. She crossed her arms and smirked at him. “Now who did you nick that from?”

“Hey now… Let’s not look too surprised, yeah?” grinned James, shaking his head. His eyes were fixed on the Head Girl badge already pinned to Lily’s robes.

The sound of a whistle rang from the Hogwarts Express and all around them students rushed to say their final goodbyes to their families. The five Gryffindors started making their way down the platform towards the train.

“I’m only teasing,” said Lily with a laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“Do you really?” asked James, looking at Lily hopefully with a hint of surprise.

“Sure! That is, if you actually take it seriously.”

“I plan to.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

Sirius Black proposing to Remus Lupin, because he would never do it himself- he has too much self-hatred and self-doubt.

Sirius Black getting down on one knee and asking if, maybe, Remus would be willing to love him for the rest of their lives, because he was absolutely sure that he would love Remus for the rest of his.

Remus Lupin tearing up and muttering in thrilled disbelief, “Are you serious?” Because he’s so happy and excited and he’s not thinking straight.

Sirius Black grinning tearfully and saying, “Yes, I’m Sirius. Sirius Lupin, hopefully.”

And Remus just fucking sobbing.

[sliebman10]

🌿how does creating make you feel?

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Hi! Have fun!

🌿how does creating make you feel?

Creating just makes me happy. I feel pent up and stressed when I'm not able to write or craft.

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

(If I have to, so do you XD)

My writing has definitely improved since my earlier fics. I write dialogue well.

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

It would appear that my Femslash February Drabble Collection has the fewest kudos. I really enjoyed exploring Parvati/Lavender in this collection and developing their characters in my head.

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?

Ooooh. Hard to say since @burningaurora has been spoiling me with podfics <3. Maybe Trade Secrets.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I've been brainstorming ideas for my bingo card and this is one I came up with yesterday:

Professional Athlete AU - Muggle AU. The Marauders are in trouble. They used to be a World Series contender, but in recent years they’ve lost several talented players to other teams. But they have a small group of dedicated players. However, the owners decide they need to bring in a hot shot hitter to attract more attention. Enter Sirius Black, home run leader for the past two years. James Potter, starting pitcher, went to college with him, but the rest of the team is skeptical about his desire to be part of the team, instead of being out for himself. However, he beings to connect with them, especially Remus Lupin, the team’s stalwart catcher. 

[celestialseawitch-ff]

Stealing Magic

🌟 Happy Hanukkah! 🌟

Rating: T Characters: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Neville Longbottom (one-sided), Hermione Granger & Sirius Black, Hermione Granger & the Potter family Summary: "Two hands touched her shoulders. Hermione’s head shot up with a gasp. Her eyes widened at the sight of the Triple Goddess before her.

“It is time for your magic to be returned home and for justice to be met.”

Hermione eyed the goddess warily."

---

Hermione Granger has gotten sick at school every year since she began attending Hogwarts. Her final year is no different, except for the drama surrounding people finding their magical matches, Hermione entertaining a marriage contract with her long-time boyfriend, Neville Longbottom, but most importantly of all -- Harry isn't talking to her anymore. Surely, things couldn't get more complicated?

A story in three parts. Link: Ao3

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

It’s day 3 of our Summer Soirée and @incalculablepower has arranged for you to cool off with as much ice cream as you can eat, courtesy of the distinguished Florean Fortescue...