#pansy & draco friendship on top

[themoon-andits-stars]

Jealousy

Draco sat with his head resting in his hand staring across the Great Hall in the direction of the one and only Potter. Potter was sat with another nameless girl, charming her with pleasantries and a smile.

“What is your problem,” a voice came from next to him. Pansy leaned in next to him to see what he was staring at. “Oh my Merlin,” she rolls her eyes “you’re actually pathetic.”

Draco turns to face her fully, crossing his arms and scoffing. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I’m talking about how, if looks could kill, blondie over there with Potter would be dead.” She smirks as Draco rolls his eyes. “I do not care who he chooses to speak to.” Draco turns his head, glancing over at Potter, “There’s no way he has an interesting thought running through that massive head of his”

He looks back at Pansy after hearing her laugh. “Careful Draco,” she starts with a sly smirk “or one may mistake you as jealous.”

[spectorgram]

the letter

theodore nott x f! reader summary: you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased. notes: jealous! theodore nott >>> word count: 1.4k

You would think for a magical school, Hogwarts would have better heating or some heating spell, but the Slytherin dorms are frigid as usual as winter creeps up. You fasten your robe clasps and draw it tighter around you, simultaneously trying to tug your skirt down in a futile way to heat yourself up more. Your knee-high socks only do so much and you pretty much give up on the endeavor as you climb up the stairs and head for the Great Hall. 

You’re immediately greeted by the cozy warmth of the hall, spotting your friends, all swathed in green and silver robes and knits. Theo spots you first, sliding over and nearly knocking Blaise off the bench. “Blood hell, mate,” Blaise grumbles as you approach, kicking Theo’s leg lightly. 

You slip into the space created for you, right in between Theo and Enzo. You stifle a yawn and ask, “Can someone pass the eggs and bacon?”

As Enzo reaches for both platters, Theo’s eyes zero in on your legs. “How are you not cold?”

You frown. “I am,” you reply, piling your breakfast onto your plate, “but Pansy’s demon cat apparently thought my winter tights were toys and decided to scratch them all up.”

Pansy sighs, “I’ve ordered you new ones, calm down.” 

Theo drapes his robe over your legs and you smile gratefully at him. He smiles back and your heart flips. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how beautiful he is — all dark caramel curls and long lashes that frame those devastatingly blue eyes. He’s been your best friend since you started Hogwarts and you knew you loved him at first sight. The longer you’ve known him, the more you’ve fallen for him. 

It’s a tale as old as the world itself: you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend but you value your friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize it.

“Mail’s here,” you hear someone say down the table. You look up to the ceiling, which has been enchanted to look like a sky that’s about to break open and drop snowflakes from its clouds. Owls soar in through the openings at the top of the walls, diving down towards their intended recipients. 

“Maybe your new tights are here,” Enzo says. 

Pansy adds, “I hope so. Then you’ll stop complaining about it.”

You snort, reaching up to grab a letter dropped by your family owl. You feed her a piece of scrambled egg as she takes off back towards the owlery. You tuck your parents’ letter into the inner pocket of your robe just as another owl swoops overhead, dropping a pale blue envelope on your lap. 

“Who’s that from?” asks Pansy. 

You shrug, using your butter knife to open it up. As you do, Draco grumbles at Mattheo: “For the love of Salazar, stop hogging the pastry basket.”

You skim over the letter addressed to you. You tilt your head in confusion and Blaise asks, “What’s it say?”

Enzo peeks over your shoulder and his face breaks into a smirk. “‘Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Signed, Your Secret Admirer.’” he reads.

“What?” Theo suddenly snatches the letter from your hand. You watch in confusion as his eyes dart back and forth. His shoulders tense and his mouth purses into a thin, hard line. 

“You doing okay there, Nott?” Matthew asks, shooting a simpering smile at his friend. Theo sends a glare back but doesn’t say anything, the letter’s paper crinkling under his grip. 

Pansy asks, “Are you going to go?”

You hesitate, surreptitiously glancing at Theo, startled to find that he’s gazing at you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. You pluck the letter from him and fold it neatly. “I think so,” you say. “I’m interested to see who it is.”

“Be sure to bring your wand,” Draco says. “Just in case.”

“Obviously,” you deadpan. The conversation shifts into whether anyone was prepared for midterms coming up. 

You fiddle with the letter in your lap. Theo’s silent for the whole conversation. 

You chew on your bottom lip as you reread the same sentence in your textbook for what feels like the hundredth time. The letter has stuck in your head the whole day. It crosses your mind that it could be a prank or a set-up — it’s not a secret that Slytherin isn’t the most popular House among your classmates — but you know you can handle yourself. You’re more worried about how Theo was acting at breakfast. He didn’t say a word the rest of the meal, not even when Enzo and Mattheo tried looping him into the conversation. He just sat there, sullen and gloomy, and his mood seemed to worsen more when you handed him his robe back and said you had to get to class.

You sigh heavily, trying to play out every possible scenario that could happen between you and the letter writer. You check the clock in the library: 11:45; you need to head over to the Astronomy Tower. 

You groan, gathering your things, sliding them into your bag, and making your way back to the Slytherin common room to drop off your things in your dorm. “Cacophony,” you supply to the portrait, which swings open to let you in.

The common room is blissfully silent when you enter, a welcome contrast to the mess of thoughts in your head. You’re about to head down the hall to your dorm when you collide against someone. You huff an apology but when you feel their hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Theo. He looks intense, eyes wide and glinting with sharp determination and his mouth still set in that frown from earlier. “Sorry, Theo,” you say. “Didn’t see you there. Where are you going at this hour?”

“I was going to find you,” he replies. 

“Oh,” you say. “Well, here I am. Sorry, I’ve got to drop this stuff off and then—”

“Head to the Astronomy Tower,” he finishes for you, “to meet your ‘secret admirer.’” 

You don’t like the way he sneers at the last part of his sentence or the way he uses air quotations. You’re about to respond when he says, “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeats.

“Why not?”

He pauses before saying, “What if it’s someone just having a laugh?”

You bristle, hurt, and you feel your temper flare. “Is it so damn hard to believe that someone might actually have a crush on me?”

Theo laughs, razor-sharp and incredulous, as if he can’t believe that you’re saying something so outrageous, “No, it’s not.”

“Then why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because I don’t want you to!”

“For Salazar’s sake, Theo, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“I know that!”

“Then are you trying to tell me not to go?”

“Because I bloody like you!”

Your heart stutters to a stop. You can only hear the sounds of both of your labored breathing and you suddenly can’t meet his eyes, trying your best to wrap your head around the fact that your feelings are reciprocated. “How long?’ you ask softly, holding your breath.

“Since first year.”

You blink. “Really?”

He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, “Mattheo’s right; you’re so oblivious.” There’s another beat of silence and he asks, a little shyly, “How do you feel?”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “I like you too, Theo. I’ve liked you since first year as well.”

He echoes your “Really?” and it makes you giggle, “I guess we’re both oblivious.”

He joins your laughter and you let your forehead rest on his chest as your shoulders shake. When it dies down, Theo shifts you off him and lifts your chin with his forefinger, any semblance of coyness gone. You gaze into his ocean blue eyes. Salazar, you could drown in them. He offers a charming smile and he leans close, just a few centimeters away, and says, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyelashes flutter and your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Your lips meet, fervent and desperate, years of yearning releasing like water through a broken dam. Theo hooks his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You wind your arms around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape. He walks you backward, slipping his tongue into mouth as he crushes you up against the wall. He deepens the kiss and your knees go weak. 

Theo moves your bag off your shoulder and drops it on the floor. The letter that rested at the top of the pile of possessions falls out, laying forgotten on the ground.

[writingsbychlo]

KNOW YOU LIKE I DO | tom riddle

summary; love letters are tom's way of communicating. unfortunately, he's not as good with his actions.

word count; 7036

notes; another one that I said was gonna be short and it wasn’t. I think I’m physically incapable of writing short fics, actually.

Dear Tom,

Tommy. 

My Tom. 

Do you still have that first letter I wrote to you, back in summer? No, I suppose you don’t, that’s not very like you. 

I’m drunk. Just a little bit (a lot), and I can’t take it anymore. Mattheo told me to tell you how I feel, and that is exactly what I’m going to do. He’s asleep on my bed right now, drooling into my favourite pillow waiting for me to write this. 

So here it is. 

I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m confused. I’m in love. And it’s all your fault.

Staring across the crowded room, your eyes fixed back onto that of Tom Riddle. It wasn’t hard to spot him, not as he was the only man who came to a Christmas party dressed in all black and sat alone, brooding. His lips were pressed into a line, the lights bouncing off of those shiny curls, green and red splashed across his pale skin as he sipped at his drink, listening to the conversation Draco and Blaise were having, but never participating. 

Your heart lurched a little in your chest, just the mere sight of him had a thousand different feelings rearing their heads, and you sighed to yourself. Shaking your head, your attention was redirected to the drinks table, pouring yourself an extra strong helping of Giggle Gin and topping it off. The urge to look back over was strong, and you steadfastly ignored it, suppressing the urge and instead, turning your back to his direction, walking towards the group of girls giggling in the opposite corner. 

Taking your seat back in the comfy corner of the sofa, Pansy offered you a smile, her arm looped over Luna’s shoulders as the blonde cuddled into her side. Astoria was currently recounting the intimate details of her latest night with Draco, and you hid a smile in your cup as you tuned back into the conversation. 

You lost the battle with your will, however, gaze moving directly back across the room to Tom. He had a slight smirk on his face now as he watched Draco speak, and you did not doubt that he was receiving a tale of the exact same encounter Astoria was currently telling, only from a different point of view. 

Blonde cut across your vision, the perfect smile of Daphne blocking your view as she sat in front of you, severing any sights of Tom you might have had. “You know,” She started, grinning as she took a sip of your drink cheekily, before handing it back. “If you stare at him any harder, you’re gonna’ drill holes in the side of his head.”

You could only scoff, but no argument formed. Lately, all you’d been able to do was stare longingly at him across any room. You weren’t subtle, and you’d never been much good at hiding your feelings. Which seemed fitting, since you’d fallen for someone who was like a blank slate, permanently. 

Tom Riddle was a harder book to read than a tablet written in a never-before-discovered language. 

“He looks so… miserable, Daph.”

She glances over her shoulder at him, snorting a laugh, and turning her attention back to you. “Because Tom Riddle doesn’t go to parties, and he’s probably counting the minutes until he can leave.” She smirked a little, shuffling closer, perched on the edge of her seat as she leaned in, “At least, he didn’t go to parties. Until you, that is.”

Your cheeks flushed, a subtle hint at the running joke your friendship group had taken on. They’d all become convinced that Tom attended parties for you, ever since he’d been a willing guest for the first time at Draco’s end-of-summer bonfire bash, and spent the majority of the night talking with you. They refused to let it go. 

“You should go over there and cheer him up. I bet he’d be smiling in no time if you gave him a little attention.”

That was exactly the problem. You’d been giving him a little too much attention, and now, everyone was painfully aware of your feelings for him. Except for him, maybe. Either that, or he was just very good at pretending he didn’t notice, in a chance to let you down gently. You didn’t know which option was worse. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daph.”

“No, you don’t be ridiculous! You and him are… something else.” She took your free hand in hers, squeezing tightly. All amusement melted from her face, and she gave you a serious look. The expression she wore when advising her sister on Draco, or comforting Pansy after a panic attack. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened over the summer, or are you just going to keep acting like it wasn’t some cataclysmic shift?”

“So dramatic.” You hummed to your roommate.

“Still pretending, I see.” She teases lightly, but her brows are still furrowed. She waited a few more seconds, to see if you’ll crack. All you do is hold her steady gaze, and take a sip of your drink. With a sigh, she released your hand, and leans back in her chair. “Well, whatever. We can all see it, see how you two pine for one another, and how perfect you’d be together. Just go and talk to him! He’s probably sat over there waiting for you anyway. He had that exact same kicked-puppy expression on at the summer party, until you walked in.”

“He did not…” You murmur, the very thought making you blush. 

“I think that’s the first time I ever saw Tom Riddle smile. A real smile, not the smile he gets when threatening someone, or when Mattheo falls over. A good smile.” 

“Now you’re just making him out like some kind of sulky villain.” You retort, and she only raises a brow at you.

“Here, take him this box, and go talk to him. The poor boy looks lost over there without you.” Reaching under her chair, Daphne produces a familiar box, wrapped neatly in black paper with dark green ribbon, and your jaw drops. 

“Daphne!—” Reaching out to snatch it from her, your brows furrow. “Did you go through my things?”

“I didn’t exactly go through your things,” She grins, watching you turn over the label with his name written on neatly. “I just watched you hide it under your bed and got curious… it smells good. Is it cookies? Can I have one?”

When she reaches for the box, you slap the back of her hand, and she sticks her tongue out at you in return. “No! You cannot, you little snoop!”

“Fine! If you won’t let me have a cookie, then you have to go over there. You either give me a cookie, or you give me the satisfaction of seeing you and him smile.” Her arms crossed, her tone annoyed but her words caring, and love shone in her gaze as she stared at you. “Go on. Go over to him. Please.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t already want to, and with her encouragement, you were a weak woman to say no. Downing the rest of your drink for a little liquid courage, you hop to your feet, present clutched in your hands.

Weaving through the room, the bass notes of Mattheo’s custom-made playlist pumped through the room from the speakers, a playlist you might have slightly altered a few days ago to add a couple of songs, just to mix up his usual tastes. Your stomach was twisting nervously, but the alcohol in your veins made for a pleasant buzz as the distance between you both closed. 

After almost taking a ping-pong ball to the eye, courtesy of Theo on the beer-pong table, you cleared the games and settled into the pleasant atmosphere surrounding where the boys had set themselves up for the evening by the fire. When you approached, Tom looked up, frown melting away as the crease between his brows disappeared, and he sat up a little straighter as you approached. 

“Hi, doll,” He murmured, shifting his arm from the armrest of the chair, so that you could take a seat on it instead. That same arm soon wrapped around your waist, his head falling to rest on your shoulder, and your heart skipped a beat within your chest. “Where’ve you been?”

“Over there, with Daph and the girls.” You whisper in reply, balancing the box on your thighs, and pointing through the crowds to the barely visible patch of chairs and sofas you’d all been occupying. He only hummed, squeezing you a little closer. 

“Stay here with me for a while?”

“Sure,” Your voice hardly worked as you spoke, emotions clogging up, and you reached for the gift in your lap. “I have this for you, anyway. I made you those cookies you like so much.”

“You did?” His head lifted, and one of those pretty smiles that made your heart stop clean in your chest was adorning his lips. “The ones with the orange peel and the dark chocolate?”

“Those very ones.” You handed it to him, and he tugged at the ribbon covering the box, fingers flipping under the seals of the paper until it fell openly neatly. Flicking open the catch on the cardboard box, the smell of freshly baked treats filled the air, and he made a rumbling noise of happiness as he plucked on up, and took a bite. As you laughed at him, he took another, pushing it between your lips with a smirk while he chewed. 

He resealed the box, savouring them, as he did all things, and putting them on the table in front of himself. You held the cookie now, eating it slowly, as Draco and Blaise finally seemed to become aware of your presence. 

“I have a question.” Draco started, and your gaze moved to him, brow raising as you took the final bite. “Is Astoria over there talking about me?”

The blond smirked, and you twisted, lifting your legs to sit over Tom, ankles crossing on the opposite arm. “No, no. She’s been recounting a scene from a book.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You know, the fun books. It was really, really hot.” You teased, fanning yourself, and Tom chuckled, reaching over you for his drink, and taking a sip. Instead of putting it back down, he rested the cool glass on your thigh, his free hand coming to sit on your calf, rubbing lightly as you shivered at the touch. “Why? You think you’re better than a good spicy romance?”

“I know I am!” Draco huffed, and Blaise rolled his eyes, watching you wind his best friend up with barely a few words at all. “What book is this?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know…”

“I do want to know! Tell me!” His cheeks were turning pink, all the way up to the tips of his ears. In the spirit of Christmas, you took pity on him, rolling your eyes. 

“I think it was called… Astoria’s Diary.” 

It took a few seconds for it to register in Draco’s mind, and the furious pink turned to an embarrassed red, and he shook his head, eyes narrowed at you. “I despise you.”

“You love me.” You fired back, and he scoffed, but the edges of his lips pulled at a smile, and he looked away to cover it. Settling back a little more, you leaned into the cushion, feeling Tom roll his head across the cushion to lean in your direction. 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.” He says, voice low for only you to hear, and your head twists towards him You were close, close enough to pick out the different coloured flecks of colour in his eyes as he looked at you, and the hardly visible steaks of lighter brown that trailed naturally through his dark curls.

“Well, I’ve had detention all week, thanks to a certain someone.” You poked his chest, and he only smirked a little bit, shuffling his head a fraction closer. 

“I needed you, what can I say?”

“You needed someone to keep a lookout while you snuck into the restricted section again. Why did it have to be me?” You scoffed, working to keep the smile on your face as the answer to your own question flickered through your mind. He chose you because he knew you’d drop everything and come, the voice taunted; you buried it under the song playing and the laughter in the room so you didn’t have to think about it...

“Don’t act like you didn’t have fun when we ran.” He chuckled, hand sliding up your leg again, fingers lacing with your own. The same way they had when you’d been caught, and he’d grabbed your hand, the two of you ducking and weaving between stacks, fleeing through the corridors. Laughing and out of breath, he’d clutched your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles just like he was doing now, staring at you with those pretty eyes.

You hadn't been caught, but you had gotten detention for skipping class to go with him, and so you’d spent all five nights of your final week in detention, writing lines. You lifted your free hand, sighing with a nod, and running it through his curls. His eyes fluttered, head tipping back to follow your hand, and a content smile took over his lips. 

You loved to see him like this, to see him so carefree and happy, to see him relax at just your touch. You’d never seen him like this before. The thought that only you could do it to him sent a thrill down your spine, made your thoughts feel hazy and slow, like treacle in your mind, and your nerves tingled. So, why had he never made a move to make it anything more? You’d given him a dozen chances, a dozen more opportunities…

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you this holiday.” He broke your train of thought, eyes opening again to peer up at you, and his lips became a frown as he thought about it. “My father is going to pile on the pressure not that I’m in my graduating year. I can already feel the headache forming right between my eyes.”

“Oh..” You coo, hand slipping down from his hair to rub your thumb over his forehead, the space you know him to get stress headaches the worst, when he works too hard or gets wound up. He just chuckled, eyes sliding shut once again. 

The song changed, and his body tensed underneath you for just a second, before his eyes snapped open, gaze locked on you. “This is my favourite song.”

“Is it?” You mumble, finger still tracing lightly over his skin, and he nods.

“I didn’t think Mattheo put it on the playlist. I asked him, and he very emphatically said no.” 

“Maybe he changed his mind.” Your shrug doesn’t convince him, not as you both hear Mattheo question the song with a stream of curses somewhere in the distance. His lips twitched at the edges, a small smile, but he said nothing else. Instead, he leaned in, your arm going around his shoulders, rubbing softly as his head nestled onto your shoulder, a sigh on his lips. 

It was perfect, just like this. If he could just open his eyes and see, he’d know how wonderful it could be. Nobody knew him like you did, he’d made sure to keep his secrets locked up tight. But over the months of exchanging letters, and candle-lit nights in the library, he’d bore so much of his soul to you. 

Deep, wounded parts, that you’d tried to put back together. 

Soft, tender parts that he protected so valiantly, but trusted you with. 

Sweet, loving parts, that never saw the light of day, unless you were together.

It was impossible, surely, that he didn’t know. He might keep his feelings locked up tight, but you didn’t hide yours very well at all. As you sat here now, fingers weaving through his hair, lips tracing his temple as you whispered nonsense to him about your day, his head on your shoulder, that he didn’t know. Even a man like Tom Riddle couldn't miss it, right?

You just wanted to make him happy, but he didn’t feel the same. 

With a heart-aching sigh, you ran your fingers through his curls one more time. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your night. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your Christmas. You would not be one of those girls who gave in to their feelings, and crumbled at the feet of a man who didn’t return her affections. 

Sitting up some more, he grumbled at the disruption, blinking his eyes back open as he lifted his head again. “I’m… I’m going to go dance, and play some games, okay?”

“Alright,” He smiled, patting your thigh and lifting his drink away. “Have fun. I’ll probably leave soon. If I don’t see you again, just know I’ll be thinking of you over these holidays. We’ll write again.”

His words send a rush of heat to your cheeks, a tumble of nerves through your stomach, and you could only nod. One more chance, one more chance to make a move…

“Merry Christmas, Tommy,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. A kiss that was purposefully close to the edge of his mouth, a kiss that purposefully lingered just a second too long as you pulled away slowly, giving him a chance to turn his head, to close the gap, to kiss you—

But he didn’t, he only smiled. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

So, you stand. You brush it off. You brush off the moment, and the feelings, and all the disappointment and heartbreak that came with it. 

But I can’t do it anymore. 

We’ve been housemates for seven years, we’ve been friends for half of those, and I’ve been in love with you for months. 

But you don’t love me. Mattheo says you do, says you’re just stupid when it comes to feelings. But, even you couldn't miss how I feel about you.

So, I’m letting you go. 

New Year, New Me, New Heart.

“No, your dorm is that way.” You giggle, Mattheo’s arm over your shoulder, pushing him in the direction of the boy’s dorms and pointing. “My dorm is this way!”

“No, you’re wrong!” He mutters, shaking his head dramatically. “Boys to the left,” He says, pointing right, “Girls to the right, because girls are always right!”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.” You grin, spinning him around. “Wait, now I’m confused. Who’s dorm were we going to again?”

A few too many shots, a few more drinks than your limit at the beer-pong table, and as the last of the party was dying down, you and Mattheo were attempting to stumble back to your dorms. “Theo’s.”

“Right. But why are we going to Theo’s dorm?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Mattheo said. “And also, his bed is next to mine.” Another fit of laughter, drunken giggles melting away, and the two of you collapsed down against the wall, heads tipped back to the stone as amusement took over. When you finally caught your breaths once again, he was smiling, eyes sparkling in that unique Matty-way. Kicking his legs out before himself, he sighed. “Maybe I will just sleep here.”

“You can’t sleep here.”

“Why?” He pouted, and you searched through your foggy mind for a reason. 

“Because you have to sleep in a bed.” Is what you settled on, shrugging your shoulders, even if you were getting a little bit too comfy against the stone too. 

“Can I sleep in your bed?” He wiggled his brows, smirking, before burping, and you giggled again. 

“No, you may not.”

“Why?” He whined, kicking one leg like a toddler in a tantrum. “You have fluffy pillows.”

“And you have sheets that haven’t been washed in months.” Your nose screwed up, and he let out a dramatic, wounded sound, like a soldier who had just been shot in a war movie. 

“That was cold.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Not as cold as the frozen Earth Tom would bury my wee little body in if I spent the night at your dorm.”

You didn’t respond, the mention of his name was like a bucket of ice over your head. Not exactly sobering, but shocking. 

“I’m saying he would murder me.”

“Yes, I understood.”

“You didn’t laugh.” He pouted, and you chuckled for his benefit. “No, it’s not real. Now I feel like I begged for it.”

“You did.”

“You suck.”

“You swallow.” You sighed, and he groaned once again, another argument lost. His head rolled to your shoulder, his body slumping into relaxation. 

“So… what is the deal with you and my brother?” His lips twisted as he thought about it, but he looked up at you curiously, frown only deepening at the sad look on your face. 

“There is no deal.” You shrug, “He doesn’t want me like that. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah,” He snorts, “And the sky isn’t blue.”

“I’m serious, Matty. I’ve given him a hundred chances. He could’ve made a move anytime. I haven’t exactly kept my feelings to myself, all you fools can see my heart dripping and bleeding on my sleeve. He knows, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.” Your lungs burned for air at the end of your speech, and you took a deep breath, staring ahead at the chipping bricks in an attempt to avoid tears. “Why doesn’t he want me, Matty?”

“He does,” Mattheo mumbled, taking your hand in his and squeezing. “He’s just a fucking moron. But, he’s also scared. You know, you’re pretty much all he talks about? And, I never saw him smile so much as he did during the summer, when he’d receive your letters. He’d get all anxious and fidgety every day, waiting for the mail owl to arrive. He’s never going to make the first move. He’d rather suffer for all his life but have you like this, than risk losing you entirely.”

The words felt like a warming blanket and an ice-cold lake. Comforting and terrifying, sweet and burning, all at the same time. 

Mattheo huffed a laugh, “Maybe you should write him a love letter.”

“Maybe I should…” You whisper, drunken thoughts taking over, and his head snapped up. 

“I was joking.”

“I’m not. That’s a good idea. I should write him a letter, and tell him that I’m moving on.” You brushed your legs off as you stood, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet, determined.

“Okay, that’s not what a love letter is. That’s so far from what I said—”

“Let’s go!” You grabbed his wrist, tugging him along behind you as you made your way through the halls. 

“Now? Why are we doing it now? We should be sleeping now!” His protests fell on deaf ears as you dragged him along. Throwing open the door to your room, Daphne was already asleep, still in her party dress, face down on her pillow, out cold from the night’s festivities and snoring.

Mattheo collapsed onto your bed, rolling onto his side and clutching a fluffy cushion to his chest as he curled into a ball. 

“I’ll just wait here, then.” He yawned through his words, but you were too busy to care, scrambling for a pot of ink and some new parchment. Taking a seat at your desk, you stared at the paper, quill hovering, ready to write.

So, I will spend the end of this year away from you. You say we’ll write, but I don’t want to. 

Only write to me, Tom, if you feel the same.  If not, don’t. Let me heal, and when we come back in the New Year, I promise, nothing will change except for my heart. 

We will still be friends, best friends, and we’ll never talk about it again.

I will wait for you.

Finishing the letter, you sighed at it, the ink drying and immortalising your words onto the page. Sitting before you was the sum total of what sat in your heart, and your mind. Laid out and ready to go, your hands trembled a little as you read it over, and over, to be sure. 

But you had to do this, you had to give this letter to him, to alleviate the strain on your heart, to finally have some closure. Whether he felt the same or not, you’d have relief. Folding it carefully, you searched a strip of wax seal lighting the end and waiting for it to get hot, drips of Slytherin green filling into a pool that overlapped the edge of your paper. When there was enough, you stamped it carefully, sealing it shut as the wax cooled. 

Taking a look behind you, you caught sight of a sleeping Mattheo, his jaw hanging open, drooling onto your favourite throw pillow, half tucked under your blankets from where he’s only bothered to cover his legs. Peeling away the wax seal, you walked over to him, shaking his shoulder, until he awoke with a huff and a groan, whining as he sat up. 

“I was dreaming.”

“I wrote the letter.” You show him the proof, and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, glancing from it, to you, and back. “You have to give it to him.”

“Now?”

“No! Not now. Tomorrow. After we get off the train.” He blinked a little more, waking up from his power nap and taking the paper from you. Flipping it over in his hands, he inspected Tom’s name across the front, no address, and raised his brows. 

“Why don’t you mail it?”

“That’ll take days, and I don’t want to leave it up to chance. I need you to give it to him, tomorrow. I know you’ll be swamped with everything your father expects of you both this time of year, events and frivolities and all, but you have to. I don’t want it getting lost amongst other letters and Christmas cards, and such.” Your hands clasped together before you, blinking at him pleadingly, and hoping your puppy-dog eyes were half as good as his.

He sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering to himself as he stood.

“Please, Matty.”

“Fine. I’ll give it to him.” He caved, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

“Tomorrow? After you get off the train?”

“Yes. I will give Tom the letter… tomorrow.”

Yours,

If you want me, 

(y/n) x

Tom double-checked his bags, sighing as he zipped up the piece of luggage he’d actually have access to on the train, everything he needed to survive a six-hour train journey. A knock sounded from the door, a signature one that only Mattheo ever used, excessively long and irritating, and the door swung open a second later to reveal his brother. 

Placing his carry-on down on the bed beside his own, Mattheo slumped out on his freshly-stripped bed. “You took your bags to the carriage already?”

“I got up early.”

“Surprising, I thought I’d have to drag you out of your bed this morning considering how much you drank last night.” He gave his brother a look, a single brow raised, and Mattheo just huffed. 

“It’s called having fun, you should try it sometime.”

Tom only rolled his eyes, gaze scanning across the bag Mattheo had abandoned, snagging on the letter sticking out of one pocket. T— was all that was visible. It might have been a card, that someone had addressed it to ‘Theo’ instead of Mattheo, but everyone called him ‘Matt’ if they wanted a nickname, to avoid confusion with Nott.

Curiosity ate at him, and nudging the bag subtly revealed just enough more to show an ‘O’. 

Definitely Tom, then. Mattheo was carrying a letter for him, and had not delivered it. Before he could pluck it from the pocket, his brother was sitting up, reaching for his bag and getting to his feet, swinging the letter out of his reach inadvertently. 

“Ready to go?”

“Is that letter for me?” Tom burst instead, making another move for the bag. His suspicions were only confirmed when Mattheo shifted his body, pulling the arm carrying the bag away from him, behind his body and out of Tom’s reach. “Why do you have it? When did it arrive?”

Mattheo turned casually, looking down at it, patting it and pushing it back into the bag, deeper. Tom recognised that handwriting now, though, and the urgency swelled. “Uh… last night, I think. But I was a little drunk, so…”

“Why didn’t you give it to me?” Tom pressed, biting his tongue from yelling at his brother, and Mattheo just shrugged. 

“Figured I’d give it to you on the train, or something. Or when we got home. It’s just a letter.”

“Yeah…” Tom could only hum in response, his mind spinning a little. Everyone had exchanged gifts and goodbyes last night, before the party. For exactly this reason, to avoid the morning rush to the train, to avoid the hassle in the morning. “But— I saw her last night. Why wouldn't she just give it to me then? Or mail it to me?” 

The questions were ceaseless, almost making Tom dizzy as he tried to think them through, and Mattheo could only shrug, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself. 

“I don’t know, Tom. She just came to me, and asked me to give you that letter because she didn’t want it to get lost amongst other letters, or take too long, or something like that.” It was a small lie, really, fabricated from aspects of the truth.

“So, it’s important, then! It’s obviously important if she couldn't risk it getting lost, if it had to be hand-delivered! I should read it.” Just like that, Tom stepped right into Mattheo’s trap. Now all he had to do was pull the pin, and let the steel jaws snap shut. Yes, it could potentially backfire hugely, but Mattheo was looking on the positive side for this. 

“We have to go, Tom. Everyone else has probably already left for the train.” Mattheo swung his bag again, making his point, and kicked Tom’s suitcase from where it sat beside the door towards him to pick up. “Let’s go.”

Tom sighed, grabbing his bags and taking a few steps after him, and didn’t even make it over the threshold of the door before he gave in. His bags dropped from his hands, and planted on his hips instead. “I’m going to read it.”

“Tom—”

“Give me the letter.” He held out his pal, and Mattheo tipped his head to the side, but pressed his lips together to hide a grin. “I’ll catch up, you go. I’ll read it and I’ll catch up, it’s only a letter, can’t take that long.”

He lunged for Mattheo's bag, snatching the crisply pressed paper from the pocket before his brother could stop him. As he turned away, he missed Mattheo’s victorious smile. “Alright, I’ll take your trunk down. Don’t be long, or you’ll miss the train.” And you’ll miss her, were Mattheo’s unspoken words, as he grabbed Tom’s suitcase and disappeared, leaving him alone. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Tom’s hand shook a little. The paper felt like it weighed a thousand tons. There was so much unspoken mystery behind it that Tom was sure whatever this letter said, it was not their usual correspondence. Not the chatty, friendly, borderline flirty letters they’d send each other when apart, this was more. 

Sliding his thumb neatly under the wax seal he was so familiar with, Tom popped open the letter, unfolding it carefully and flipping it around to read. 

His gaze scanned over the paper, lips flicking up at the use of the nickname he only allowed you to use, the swirl of your handwriting that he loved so much. The smile didn’t last long, however, and neither did the breath in his lungs as his chest seized. He read it.

Over and over again, he read the letter. 

The minutes melted past as he absorbed what it said, until he could read the letter word for word without looking at it, tattooed into his mind now like a brand. With trembling fingers, he folded the letter back up carefully, lifting the paper to his lips as his eyes slid shut. 

His heart was pounding, more so than he’d ever felt. Tom was not one for rash decisions and sudden jumps, everything was calculated and thought through and planned. But this, this was you. This is just what you did, forced him to let go of routine and be spontaneous, forced him to be carefree, to loosen the grip he had on the reigns, to show him he wouldn't fall apart at the slightest breeze. 

He smiled against the letter, thoughts of you flicking through his mind. 

And then a clock chimed, and he jumped violently within as he was rushed back to reality in a split second. The clock in the common room chimed loudly, echoing through the empty dorms and halls. 

Rushing to his feet, Tom opened his bag, tucking the letter safely inside one of his books to preserve it, to tuck it inside the box of letters from you that was tucked under his bed at home. You doubted him, his feelings, unsure he’d kept that first letter, when in reality, he’d kept every single one.

Every letter, every note, even the silly little joke you scribbled on torn-off pieces of paper and threw at him in class, he kept them all.

Zipping his bag back up and grabbing it, he had no time to spare, racing to the chimes of the clock through the castle, to the front gates where the final carriage was leaving. 

It felt too long. Too long as the horses plodded through the snow, too long as the wheel scrolled slowly, and his foot tapped agitatedly on the floor in a way he never allowed himself to do. His thumbnail was between his teeth, flicking between the frost-covered ground and his bag, wondering if it would actually be faster to run there himself. 

Ahead, the train sounded its horn. The final warning for all students to begin boarding and settling in, because they’d be departing soon. 

You watched as the trunks were beginning loaded onto the train, all to be collected when you arrived in London, only letting out a breath of relief as Mattheo rounded the corner, finally joining your group. 

“Matty! About time, we were worried you’d miss the train.” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he sighed, a little out of breath, and hugged you back once he dropped the two bags in his hands. Nobody followed him, and your brows furrowed, pulling back, “Where’s Tom?”

“He’s probably already on the train, sulking somewhere. He’s never late.” Theo snickered, and you rolled your eyes, smacking him across the shoulder for his joke. 

“Blaise is inside holding a cabin for us, is Tom not sitting with us?” Enzo questioned, and you turned to Mattheo, waiting for answers. 

“He’ll be here, trust me.”

“He’s late?” Draco asked, quickly followed by Enzo and Theo, all discussing it. Regulus stayed quiet, smoking and trying to hide it from being seen, but his expression was just as concerned as everyone else’s. 

The chatter continued on, by your worry didn’t cease, checking up and down the platform as people bustled and crowded it. Saying their final goodbyes and giving out hugs, climbing on and off the train as they all wished one another Merry Christmas, and being unable to see either end was causing your anxiety to rocket higher. 

The train horn blared again, and students began to board. “Mattheo, seriously, where is he—” Just like that, you saw him, the busy platform parting to let him through, the look on his face as terrifying as ever, and people moved out of his way as he made his way towards your group. 

“Told you he’d be here,” Mattheo smirked, and you raised a brow. 

“The hell did you say to him this morning, Matt?” Regulus questions. 

“He looks mad,” Draco murmured. 

“He looks like he’s plotting.” Enzo corrected.

Every step closer rose the tension as Tom finally looked up, his sights setting on you, and his jaw clenched. Brows drawn in, he did look like he was plotting, like a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind that he couldn't sort through. 

“Hey, man. We thought you were gonna’ miss the—” Draco’s words cut off at your squeak, as Tom stepped closer, never stopping the movements of his body until he was cupping your cheeks, his mouth descending upon your own. 

You were almost knocked backwards from the force of it, your hands gripping at his shoulders as he bent you over backwards, a kiss so intense your knees almost went weak. 

It was desperate, you could barely keep up, kissing back as best you could through your shock, until it wore off enough to reciprocate. Wrapping one arm around his neck, your other slipped to his face, his own hands making their way down, to band around your waist and pull you in closer, until your bodies were flush. 

His tongue licked into your mouth, a sigh escaping you as he did, and your heart pounded against your heart, the same way he was doing, felt through his jumper and layers. The boys were whistling, cheering and hooting, and if you weren’t so happy you’d have been embarrassed by the show they were making, and the attention they were no doubt drawing. 

When he finally pulled back, you panted softly, his forehead resting on your own, blinking his eyes open to meet your gaze. 

“Can I write to you regardless?” He mumbled, voice rough and tense with emotion, and your brows furrowed. 

“Wh— What?” 

He leaned in, not helping you clear your dazed mind at all as he kissed you again, and again, until you were smiling, fingers clenched so tight in his coat that your knuckles were white, just to stay upright. 

You pecked his lips once more, chasing him as he pulled back, and the train horn sounded, a final warning, but you didn’t care. “You know how I feel now. You don’t have to wait for my reply. You can be assured that I will miss you dearly over these two weeks, and I am already counting the minutes until I see you again. But can I write to you, still?”

As the realisation set in, your face flamed, jaw dropping a little bit, and he wasted no opportunity, kissing you softly. “You read my letter.”

He only nodded, a gentle chuckle onto your mouth as your lips brushed. “You’d leave it to Mattheo to deliver? He’d probably lose it at a McDonalds, trying to get a Big Mac before my father saw him, on the way home. 

Your laughter was sweet, a puffed-out sound as his hands smoothed up and down your back. “I’d love to get more letters from you, Tommy. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you in person, but I was scared. I thought I’d made my feelings for you obvious, and you didn’t reciprocate, so I had to write that letter. To get it out, to finalise it all.”

“I like to consider myself a smart man, you know. When it comes to you, clearly, I’m a fool. You leave me speechless, and without proper thoughts, every time. All I can think about is how pretty you are, and how much I like you, despite my best efforts not to.” 

The declaration was so utterly Tom, to hate being in love even if he loved it. 

“For Salazar’s sake, what have you done, Matt?” Theo cussed, and you twisted your head to look at him. “Shakespeare over here is going to be writing sonnets for the rest of the year. None of us will stand a chance with any other girls when he’s showing us up, standing under windows, yelling his love to the moon.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring their nonsense. Tom did the same, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, and leaving a kiss there.

“I’ll look forward to your letters, just as I did in the summer.” You whisper, pulling away from him as the platform clears, most students already aboard now.

“And after?” Tom questions, “May I still write you letters if I, too, find myself struggling to confess my feelings in person?”

“Oh, God,” Enzo muttered. “He’s going to be writing love letters all year. He’s making the rest of us sound like cavemen. Me, you, bed, now.” He grunted, smacking a fist in his chest. You giggled as Tom rolled his eyes. 

“We should get on the train.” You whisper, taking pity on the others and untangling yourself from his arms. 

Tom took his bag again, and your own. With a final kiss on your cheek, he walked away to the door of the carriage, letting the rest of you follow behind. Mattheo fell into step beside you, smirking as he bumped your hips with his own.

“So, should I tell my mother and father that they have a new daughter-in-law this holiday, or wait ‘til the next.”

His teasing made you blush again, cheeks already red in the cold, warming you under all those layers. “You’re a filthy traitor. You gave him my letter early.”

“I said I’d give it to him ‘tomorrow’. Never agreed to the after the train part.” He tutted, proud of himself. “Always pay attention to the words of a contract. My dear brother taught me that. You never have to break a promise, if you’re smart with your words.”

That sounded exactly like something your man would say, your eyes rolling to the Heavens. 

Mattheo leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper as the pair of you climbed the steps. “You never have to break your heart either, if you’re smart about who you give it to.”

[bunny-1111]

One step ahead - TN, enemies to lovers + academic rivals

Description: You and Theodore hate each other. Amidst exam season, was the tension and the teasing because of your rivalry or something else?

Word count: 1.2k

Authors Note: I'm backkkkkkkk, sorry for not being as active been so flat out, but this story came into my head, and I just couldn't resist

...

You glared at Theodore across your charms class, his gaze already haunting you before you could find his eye line.

It was always a competition; who would break away first, but he always won.

Regardless of being in the same friendship group, it did not affect your rivalry.

Since children, you hated everything about each other.

You hated how he strutted. You hated how he'd be so sure he was right about everything. You hated the way he flirted with every girl in Hogwarts, you hated how he'd always find a way out of trouble, regardless of always breaking the rules, You hated the way he sounded so sophisticated, even, if not, especially when he cussed.

He hated the way you'd smile, and get your every which way bewitching anyone with that stupid perfect mouth of yours. He hated how guys would kneel down to you, he hated how you always managed to hold such composure even when you were slaughtered drunk, how you fluttered your eyes up, and more than anything, he hated how he couldn't get rid of you, you lived in his mind, you danced in his head like a memory he couldn't shake.

As he made his way towards your desk, his face didn't budge, his expression curious, like he had planned what he was going to say before he even got to you.

he leaned over and inspected your grade, his arm leading awfully close to your hand, "One point behind me" he almost laughed

Your brows threatening to furrow, his lips threatening to smirk.

"Well, next quiz, you'll be two points behind me" you insisted

"Shame that's not true", he shrugged, "I'll always be one point and step in front of you." he practically gritted through his teeth

With that, the bell rang, he turned and made his exit. Not that easily, you thought, shoving into his shoulder, overtaking his place in the corridor. You didn't look back, you didn't need to, you already knew his eyes were watching you, you felt them.

With exams coming up, the pressure was on, more than ever, to outdo each other's intelligence.

Sitting around a large round table at the table were Matteo, Enzo, Theo, Pansy, Draco and yourself, most eyes glued to books, except Theo's. His eyes found themselves studying your face instead of his charms book. When you caught him staring, you rolled your eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating back on your notes; you thought he's just trying to distract me. Do not let him win, you reminded yourself, fighting the urge to look back up.

When your exams finally finished, you dropped your pencil and followed everyone out of the hall, Theodore found himself beside you, "Stand still for a second, Nott" you say. He listened and waited for what you were about to say; you took one big step in front of him "see that, one step ahead" you smiled as you continued to walk backwards, he laughed, actually laughed, shaking his head. You couldn't help but smile yourself.

"Did you see that?" Pansy says, nudging into Draco's shoulder, "See what?" he questions. "I think they're... getting along... in their own fucked up way," she concluded, her head tilted to make sure what she was seeing wasn't in her own mind. "Maybe hell has frozen over", he said, watching, equally as shocked as Pansy.

Sitting patiently in your chair, waiting for you exam results.

When you flip your page over, you smile, confident you have beaten Theodore, "98" you mouth to him from across the room, his lips turn into an exaggerated frown lifting his paper up for you to see. 98.5 written at the top of his page.

You have to be fucking kidding me! You wanted to scream, point five, point motherfucking five, are you kidding me?!

Throwing your page back onto your desk, you were pissed, as Theodore had never been more pleased.

You didn't wait around for his snarky comments, you walk straight out of class, you were in no mood to be trifled with.

Spending the rest of the day in your room, not showing up for dinner, you had no appetite for food, or Theodore's reminders of beating you, just.

Just after 11pm, you couldn't sleep. Being a weekend with no curfew, you grabbed your packet and stormed outside, desperately fighting the wind, trying to light your cigarette.

"need a hand?" Theodore said covering your smoke from the wind, you said nothing back, instead leaning slightly on the wall behind you.

"What are you doing here?" you finally replied

"I could ask you the same question," he retorts

You couldn't look at him, so mad, you were scared you would cry or hit him, which would encrypt guilt or satisfaction?

"Look at me when I speak to you," he demanded. Had he been talking? We were so caught up in your thoughts that you couldn't hear anything he had said.

Clocking your head towards him, "Don't tell me what to do", you huff, exhaling. He snatched the smoke out of your lips, stomping on it

"Sorry?" He gritted, spineless

Rolling your eyes, he took hold of your face, more specifically, your chin, "Don't fucking roll your eyes at me again, understand?" he instructed "I always roll my eyes at you" You reply, eyes squinting in anger

"Not anymore," he said calmly

Now you were confused, "I don't un-" you start

"Understand, yeah, I know" he finishes

"But that's a lie, I do understand, and so do you, all too well" He continues as he stalks closer to you, to the point your back is now completely pressed against the wall

Your heart rate picked up, "You hate me. I hate you too," You had to say out loud, trying to remind each other about your feelings

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he says, pressing his chest onto you

"Don't do this" you begged. He didn't listen. He just kept getting impossibly closer.

You huffed out a deep and heavy sigh. "What's wrong" he practically whispers

"I'm frustrated because I hate you, you frustrate me" you hiss out

"No," he said, as his mouth rested at the top of your neck. "You're not frustrated because you hate me; you're frustrated because you want me." He breathed onto you without thinking you pulled his face upright, crashing your lips with his for what felt like too long.

"Theodore" you rushed, catching your breath

"Don't pull away from me" he pleaded, kissing you harder.

Finally, leaning off him, you turned away, "Why did we do that" you ask, were you asking him or yourself?

"We can't help it" He soothes, turning you back over to face him again

"I have a bad habit of breaking everything I touch, y'know," he admits, his hand gripping the back of your neck, the other firm on your waist.

"go on then," you say above a whisper, hands linking behind his neck.

"Break me. Touch me." You purr.

[suugarbabe]

just friends | m.r. x reader

prompt: Can you do a Mattheo riddle friends to lovers. And Draco asks you out then Mattheo gets jealous and him and Draco have a fight and you help clean all his cuts and stuff? If you can’t that’s fine though ❤️

warnings: mentions of blood, angst, fluff

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: i forgot about the requests i had saved in my google doc so here's one sorry guys.

People thought you and Mattheo being best friends was odd at first. Upon first meeting, people assumed you were quiet and sweet and slow to anger. However when a girl tried to push you around in second year and you landed a hard right hook to her nose, people stopped questioning your friendship and started questioning when you guys were going to start dating. 

You both often played those comments off, saying you were best friends nothing more. Not knowing the other was desperate for the change in relationship status. 

So when Draco asked you to Hogsmead one weekend, you didn’t really have a reason to say no. However when Mattheo found out, he had a less than pleasant response. 

“Are you seriously going with him?” Mattheo was ripping pieces of parchment and throwing them in the fire. You laid across the couch, handing him a new sheet of parchment when he’d finish the other. 

“It’s just Hogsmead, Teo. I’m not betrothed to your cousin,” you tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. Mattheo was grumbling in response. 

You sat up on your elbows, “What was that?” Mattheo shook his head, standing up from the floor, “Nothing. Have fun with cousin, tomorrow. Can’t wait to hear all about it.” 

He walked off towards the hall, sounding very much like a stomping toddler and not like he was excited to hear about how your date went tomorrow afternoon. You huffed out an annoyed sigh, deciding to head back to your own dorm. Pansy was sitting atop her bed when you came in and slammed the door behind you. 

“Care to tell the doctor why you’re so peeved?” Pansy sat up at the head of her bed. You groaned, flopping yourself face first on her mattress, mumbling into her duvet. “Come again, dear?” 

You rolled over, staring at the top of her four poster, “Mattheo is being an arsehole.” Pansy couldn’t help but snort, “Tell me something new, Y/n/n.” You groaned again, “He’s never an arse to me, like never ever. Not like he just was. I don’t know what his problem is. Shouldn’t he be happy that my date is at least with someone he knows and likes? I could’ve had a date with Diggory, or even,” you faked a gag, “Potter.” 

Pansy couldn’t help the laugh that emitted from her throat, “I think you’re reaction alone let’s everyone know that the latter would never be an option.” You smiled weakly at her, “Yeah, suppose you’re right.” You sat up now, tucking your feet under you, “I just don’t get what the big deal is. He’s adamant that he and I are just friends, so why get mad when I finally get a date?” 

Pansy looked at you dumbfounded, “Y/n/n, please tell me you’re not that daft.” Your jaw dropped slightly, “What do you mean?” It was Pansy’s turn to groan, “If you can’t see it, I’m not telling you. You’re just going to have to pay more attention.”

You sighed out in annoyance, getting up from her bed and changing into your pyjamas. Pansy dropped the subject, as did you. You laid your head down on your pillow, doing your best to get Mattheo’s judgemental tone out of your mind, which only caused your dreams to be filled with him. 

Your trip to Hogsmead was actually really nice. Draco was a complete gentleman, helping you into and out of the carriage, holding the doors open for you, buying your favorite candies, even buying your lunch and butter beer. 

On the ride back in the carriage, you thanked Draco for a lovely afternoon. He smiled shyly, “Of course, Y/n/n. A beautiful girl like you deserves to be given all the attention and doted on dutifully.” You smiled bashfully, “You’re very kind, Draco.” Draco reached for your hand as you stepped out of the carriage at the doors of the castle. 

You took it, thanking him again as you stepped back to the ground. You opened your mouth to say something when suddenly Draco was ripped from in front of you. You took a shocked step back, trying to focus on the two bodies rolling around on the ground when you noticed it was Mattheo that attacked him. 

Draco and Mattheo were landing blows back and forth. While Mattheo was a few months younger, he was larger, muscular wise than Draco. You worried a bit for Draco, but when he landed an elbow in Mattheo’s ribs, causing him to roll off Draco, the blonde boy stood, walking toward you. 

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Draco cut you off, wiping the blood from his bottom lip, “You two need to sort whatever the fuck you are.” He turned back to look at Mattheo getting up from the ground before turning back to you, “I suggest you take him back to your dorm and clean him up. Have a fucking conversation.” 

You looked back toward Mattheo, who was now looking at the ground. You walked over, grabbing his wrist, “C’mon, Teo. I’ll clean you up.” The walk back to your dorm was silent sans for the sound of both your boots on the corridor floors. When you got to your dorm you led him to the edge of your bed, motioning for him to sit while you got some supplies from the ensuite bathroom. 

When you came back, you opened the first aid kit, grabbing some gauze and soaking it in healing potion. You dabbed the gauze on the bridge of his nose where a fresh cut was now open. Mattheo winced away, “Fucking Salazars dick, Y/n/n, that fucking burns!” 

You grabbed hold of his chin, turning his face toward you again, “Well I wouldn’t even have to do this if you didn’t mindlessly attack Draco. What was that, Teo?” Mattheo avoided your eyes, looking off to the side. 

Your fingers gave his cheeks a gentle squeeze before dabbing his nose again, he winced slightly before meeting your eyes, “You shouldn’t have gone to Hogsmead with him.” You watched as the potion closed the cut on his nose, a pink scar now taking its place. 

You grabbed one of his hands, holding your wand above it, “And why’s that?” Mattheo watched as you waved your wand, quietly muttering a healing spell that closed the cuts over his knuckles leading to fresh scars being formed there, “Because you should have gone with me.” 

Golden brown eyes met yours when you finally looked up, “Teo, we’ve gone to Hogsmead together a bunch of times. Why was this one any different.” Mattheo shook his head, “No, y/n/n, you’re…ugh, you’re not getting it. I don’t want to go with you as your friend. I-I kind of…fancy you.” 

You couldn’t help it when your eyes widened a bit, a small small forming on your face, “You kind of fancy me?” You saw Mattheo’s shoulders physically relax, a smile forming on his lips, “Okay, I really fancy you.” 

You set your wand down on the nightstand before taking a step closer to Mattheo, now fully nestled in between his open legs. “And how long have you really fancied me, Mr. Riddle?” You played with the collar of his t-shirt. You really did love it when Mattheo dressed more casually, you’ll have to tell him. 

Mattheo was feeling more confident now, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs, "Are you gonna hit me if I say a year?" Your eyebrows shot up, "A year? Mattheo Marvelo are you telling me we could've been dating for a year now but you were to wuss to say anything to me?"

At first he opened his mouth to apologize, but his brain quickly made the connections to what your statement alluded, "Y/n Y/m/n, are you saying that you have also fancied me for the last year?"

It was your turn to act reserved, "I mean...yes?" Mattheo's hands on your thighs gave a quick squeeze, causing your to squeal and grab his wrists.

Mattheo smiled at your giggles, now bringing his hands to either side of your face, "Well, looks like we've got lots to make up for, don't we love."

You nodded your head, closing the gap between the two of you, finally allowing your lips to connect with your best friend you've been pining over for the last year

[rewritingcanon]

What would you say are your more controversial opinions about the hp characters?

ohhhh okayyy. i feel like my opinions on a lot of the characters aren’t controversial because i dont feel super strongly towards anyone in any negative light but here are some i could think of at the top of my head:

i’m glad the malfoys faced more extreme backlash after the second wizarding war. a lot of people in the fandom seem to be very sympathetic towards draco and scorpius for getting dogpiled with the brunt of it (which yeah, it sucks, especially for scorpius) but the prejudice makes complete make sense to me. if i was someone who didn’t know scorpius’ character, and had someone from my family get killed in the second war due to death eaters or something— seeing the malfoys still be wealthy and walk around freely without any jailtime, i would be bitter too. they’re hated on but they’re still one of the richest families ever, so they’ll live LOL

another anon has asked about this and i haven’t responded to them yet but when i do i will link it here for my reasons. basically: the best character in the cursed child is harry potter. i think the way they wrote his character and ptsd carried the play. it was def his story, not albus’.

i do think dumbledore has some aspects of him that may be considered morally gray, but mostly i dont think he is. he does everything for the good of the world, and his complete selflessness leads him to sacrifice anything for it— even himself and the people he loves, when necessary. i completely understand why people wouldn’t agree with his methods though.

james potter isn’t a sunshine character he’s a dickhead. fans of him made him a golden retriever character to be more palatable for modern times. i like him the way he is: an asshole and then less of an asshole 👍 this is what true stanning looks like

pansy parkinson is racist and out of all the female side characters, developing HER is so questionable from fandom

harry had questionable descriptions about a lot of male characters to make people think he could be a little 🏳️‍🌈 there was bill, there was sirius, there was cedric. but draco is not a part of that list. harry was not feeling draco whatsoever throughout the series but drarry shippers cling to that one ‘obsessed’ line

furthermore, harry rejecting draco’s offer of friendship wasn’t a sad or a ‘what if’ scene. draco was being a classist piece of shit and harry didnt want to fuck with that, there isnt any way in any timeline he wouldve accepted draco’s friendship.

slytherin sucks just generally lol. people want so bad to pluck anti-heroes out of a series that was written specifically with the mind to make all the characters suck.

hermione and ron’s drama isn’t as toxic as people make it out to be. yes, this includes the time hermione sent birds after him. people act like its the end of the world but she was tackling puberty and the end of society soooo i give her a pass to tweak out.

mostly every harry potter character has horrific names. like literally mostly everyone. even the name harry potter 🙁

movie romione wasn’t that bad LOL

severus snape’s ‘redemption’ or whatever was so ass. he bullies kids for five years and then everything is chill because… true love? on harry’s mum? are you kidding me 💀

weasley family angst goes hard but people (especially percy stans and some ron&ginny stans) acting like they’re the most toxic family to walk the earth make me want to rip my hair out and eat it. molly loves her kids guys shes not evil. jesus.

genuinely trying to think of more but i can’t right now…. maybe i will reblog and add to it. i feel like most of my opinions aren’t that controversial though 😭

[heliads]

hiiii! I’d really like a Draco Malfoy x fem!slytherin!reader where they used to be BEST friends and started to date, but then ended up breaking up on bad terms (due to some angsty miscommunication). so it’s basically like best friends to exes to lovers but in the end it’s super fluffy and Draco’s a little simp even tho that’s lowkey ooc

'friendships end' - draco malfoy

masterlist

It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from Draco Malfoy, which is unusual. Typically, he likes to make his presence known. Yet it’s been many months since his owl sent word of his exploits, or the last time he sought you out in the Slytherin common room to explain at length the latest novelties to come his way. You used to love that, you know– the trust, the confidence in you to hear him out– but now you love the silence more, or so you tell yourself. Then again, you suppose the emptiness is your fault. After all, you’re the one who broke up with him. 

You hadn’t wanted to, of course. Not really. In the heat of yet another argument, you’d convinced yourself that a breakup would be good, but in the time since then, you’ve only been spiraling into memories of what had been yours before you took it all away. You had been happier with Draco, hadn’t you? Now all you can do is second-guess yourself and wonder if you had been wrong to end the one brilliant thing that had belonged to you and no one else.

It had been inevitable that you and Draco would start dating. That’s what your other friends of Slytherin House had said, at least, when the news broke. It seemed like the entirety of Hogwarts had known within a few hours of your first date together. Gossip spreads like wildfire in a school like this, and as it turns out, more than a few of your fellow students had been expecting you two to get together for quite some time.

At first, it had seemed like yet another victory in your pocket. Draco loved you and you loved him. The two of you were the talk of the town. Stealing Draco’s heart might have been the best hat-trick you’d ever pulled off, and he might say the same thing about you. You traded scarves and stole his jackets, bought each other roses and studied side by side in the common room every night, borrowing glances when you were sure the other wasn’t looking. Every move felt like a miracle– look at this person, who loves only me. Somehow, I managed to make them fall in love with me, despite all odds and all other people, and now they’ll be mine forever.

Only– forever isn’t a true thing, not in the wizarding world, and certainly not in fast-paced Slytherin. Every day, there are new battles to be fought, more prizes to be won, and victories that can be won by one person and one person only. You and Draco stopped competing together and started fighting against each other to secure the top places. Instead of being happy for each other when you got high exam scores, it felt like more nails in your coffin. Wouldn’t he grow tired of you if you couldn’t get your grades up? And he went to bed afraid, lay up all night wondering, wouldn’t you move on if Draco couldn’t win more Quidditch games?

Regardless if the two of you actually depended that much on each other’s academic and personal successes for your love to flourish, it certainly felt that way. The other Slytherin students, which at first had welcomed your relationship with open arms, turned against you, whispering to each other like snakes whenever you passed them in the corridors. Nowhere felt safe except by each other’s side, and then not even that. You swore Draco was mocking you to Crabbe and Goyle. He thought you were bad-mouthing him to Pansy and Astoria. 

And then, after weeks of rumors and indecision, it all came to a fiery head. You accused each other of not actually caring about each other and lying about what you’d done and worse things, too. When the voices were raised and the words got bad, you pulled for the last weapon you had up your sleeve and announced that you wanted to break up with him. You were assuming that Draco would recognize the move for what it was, a last-ditch attempt for him to realize that you were on fragile ground, but instead his eyes just flashed and he agreed that separation would be best for you two.

All of a sudden, it was over. Years in the making, only months in the having. The two of you have never been able to do anything but escalate a situation– grades, love, and this, now– so of course Draco would never back down from a fight. One of you always had to be better. One of you always had to have the last laugh. And now you’re both alone, forever on opposite sides of a classroom or common room, staring daggers at each other’s backs because it’s the only glimpse you’ll ever be able to catch of the person who had once sworn to love you forever.

It’s terrible because not only have you lost your love, you’ve lost your friend. You and Draco were the best of friends before you started dating, it’s why you felt confident enough to risk your heart on a Malfoy. You knew he would never hurt you because he never has, and then he did. Sitting with the broken fragments of your heart in your hands, your first instinct was to go to Draco about this, and then the truth slowly sunk in that you couldn’t, that you never could trust him with your honesty again. Draco knew every part of you, broken and bare, good and bad and ugly, and he ended things anyway. If Draco Malfoy can break your heart, then where is the proof that love could ever exist anywhere again?

Friendships end. Friendships always end. You know this to be true. Either by sudden death or slow drifting, best friends never stay that way forever. You’ll have irreconcilable differences that lead to jaded arguments, or time will intervene and you’ll stop seeing each other around, then stop making attempts to care. You’ve chosen the first end, it seems, but since when would anything with you and Draco end with a lackluster indifference? You would either pledge yourselves to each other forever or go out with enough chill to ice you both out for good. There was no world in which you could go quietly.

Perhaps this is true, perhaps it was meant to be all along that two people so ambitious and excitable as you two could never end with anything but terror, but Merlin, if you don’t hate it now. You straggle from class to class, hardly able to convince yourself to put in the effort to care about what you’re learning. You’ll lock in long enough to study for exams, and turn in halfway decent papers, of course, but your heart isn’t in it anymore.

And how could it? You have no heart. It’s gone, lost to you forever in the annex of a corridor a few turns away from the Slytherin common room, where Draco stalked away from you, unaware or perhaps not caring about the blood he tracks wherever he goes. He ripped your heart in two and washed his hands of the agony. You wish you could do the same, but every new day just reminds you of how much you wish you were with him.

Still, you move on, or you try to, at least. Draco clearly has. He hardly spares a word for you, not even a gloating reminder that he’s got the upper hand since he isn’t wallowing in self-pity on a day-to-day basis. He’s simply busy all of the time, too busy for you. You’re not so busy that you don’t notice it, and certainly not busy enough that it wouldn’t hurt.

Yes, you miss Draco, but who wouldn’t? What a time in your life. There are some people in life that you simply won’t be able to forget, and you have a feeling that Draco Malfoy is one of them. As much as you would love to push him into the past and lock him up with all the other dusty relics of times long since gone, he refuses to be barricaded with the rest of your childhood playthings and old friends.

He’s always been too ambitious for his own good, hasn’t he? And so have you. It’s what drew the two of you together in the first place, and it’s what drew you apart. You try to use that same strength to push yourself onwards and upwards, and it works for a time, but never completely. You can throw yourself back into your studies and spend your free time laughing with friends, but there will always come a time at the end of the day in which you have nothing to occupy your heedless minutes, when the gloomy thoughts come creeping back in again and you wonder– just why did you have to let him go, really?

Not even the strictest schedule in the world can free you of regret, it seems. You feel like you’re being torn apart at all seams even as you attempt to force yourself back together again. Your nerves are flighty, your senses on constant high alert, and you can’t seem to stop your eyes from scanning the room whenever someone exits or enters, just in case Draco might come in, just in case he might see you as anything but your best. You have to prove that you’re doing better than him, but you’re not sure if you can convince him of that when you can hardly convince yourself.

Days go by, blending into weeks, and then two months have come and gone and you’re no better off than you were at the start. Things with Draco are still painful, like testing a wound just to watch the stitches come undone. Every interaction with him is terrible. You run into each other in the corridors and he practically flinches with an effort to look away again. You both raise your hands to answer the same question in class and you almost sprain a muscle in your effort to quickly pull your arm down again. You and Draco approach the entrance to the common room at the same time and have to stand there, side by side, pretending you don’t notice each other at all. 

It’s an awful sort of hell, having to feign indifference to the one person who used to be able to read you like a book. Maybe he still can, maybe not even time and separation can heal Draco of that great gift, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to attempt to read between your lines anymore. Maybe he’s not faking apathy with you. Maybe he truly just doesn’t care.

Despite your tendency to think that way, your friends seem to have none of it. They keep telling you that he stares when he thinks you’re not looking, that every time some boy asks for your help on a problem in class, Draco snaps a quill or otherwise looks like he’s going to burst a blood vessel from failing to keep himself in check.

You don’t have the heart to believe them. Your friends will tell you whatever they think is right to get you to smile again. You know you’ve been ruining the mood whenever you complain about Draco, but you’ve been trying to work on that, too. You’ve been trying to work on a lot. It doesn’t always go the way you plan it.

Still, when they talk like that, you can’t help but secretly listen along. You catch Draco looking one time, then again. The second time, he doesn’t look away, but keeps holding your gaze like an oath, a promise. He used to smile whenever he caught your eye in class, but this time, his gaze is more serious. It feels like life and death, and it’s only just the two of you happening to look the same way at the same time.

Everything feels charged. You cross paths and the entire corridor seems to crackle with energy. You know how this feels, you remember it from the first time around, so at this point, it isn’t a question of if you’ll make another mistake but when.

When, as it turns out, is about a week later. You’re walking back from the library, late one night when a problem set got the better of you. After finishing the work at long last, all you want to do is go back to the Slytherin common room so you can go to sleep. Halfway back, though, you run into Draco, obviously coming from a similar situation given the ink stains on his writing hand.

Usually, this is the part where one of you doubles back or otherwise hides from the other, but instead Draco looks at you, and says, “Walk with me?”

You agree before you know what you’re doing. At first, your footsteps echo in the silent halls, and then you gather up the courage to speak again. “It’s been a while since I saw you.”

Draco scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. I saw you in class this morning.”

You give him a dour look. “You know what I mean. I don’t think you’ve spoken to me on purpose since–”

Since the fight, that is. Since both of you walked out on each other. Draco looks away for a moment, and when he speaks again, the syllables are terse and clipped. “I didn’t think you wanted to talk. After all, you were the one who ended things.”

You sigh. “I didn’t want to, though. It was a stupid thing to say and we were both angry at each other. We’d had arguments before, I thought we’d talk it over in a day or two and then be fine.”

“And then we weren’t,” Draco supplies.

“And then we weren’t,” you repeat listlessly. A moment later, you can’t help but add on somewhat desperately, “Where did we go wrong, Draco? What happened to us?”

Draco’s gaze is bleak and painful. “I don’t know. I’ve tried thinking it over loads of times. I thought you liked me.”

“I did,” you insist. Then, quieter:  “I do.”

He risks a quick glance your way. “Still?”

You don’t dare look at him outright. He’s always been an expert at calling your bluff, anyway. You reckon he doesn’t need to hold your gaze to know when you’re telling the truth. “Always. I never thought you’d leave me, Draco. I didn’t know what to do without you. I tried to move on, but I couldn’t.”

“Neither could I,” he reveals. “Every time I saw some bloke flirting with you, I wanted to hex him. Worst part was, I couldn’t admit to being angry because I wasn’t supposed to be jealous.”

“You were jealous over someone asking me for help on the homework?” You ask, a quiet laugh rising to your lips.

“They weren’t just interested in the homework,” Draco insists, although his irritation starts to fade when you laugh outright.

“Alright, then. Let’s say you did have something to be jealous about. Would that mean that you– that you wanted–”

“It means that I want you, Y/N,” Draco says, quickly stepping in front of you so you’re forced to stop walking and look directly at him. “I want you back. I want us back. What do you say?”

He’s close, so close. He hasn’t been this close since an empty room and a furious argument. This time, though, you’re not unhappy. Far from it.

“I say yes,” you tell him, and the words have hardly left your lips before he leans forward and kisses you.

You’ve had many victories over your time at Hogwarts. You’ve aced exams, you’ve done well in competitions, you’ve won the boy you loved, twice. This kiss feels like the best of them all.

harry potter tag list: @blondsauduun, @with-inked-solace, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[sodamnradd]

“I have a confession to make,” Draco said, reading the front page of the Prophet from over her shoulder. It montaged a nondescript wizard dipping a woman in his arms on an illuminated battleground, kissing her like it might be for the very last time.

He tapped his finger on the photo. “I’ve never done this before.”

Hermione looked up at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Kiss someone.”

She snorted. “O-kay.”

“Pansy never wanted to kiss on the lips. She was saving herself for the one. Or whatever.”

“You lost your virginity three years ago.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, shrugging. “Never kissed her.”

“And there was nobody else?”

“I don’t… do that.”

“What?”

“Stray. Once I’m hooked on someone.”

Hermione’s stomach fluttered. She fiddled with the edge of the newspaper, trying to appear aloof. “And your heart’s still set on Pansy?”

His gaze drifted slowly down her throat. “Is that what you think?”

Hermione froze as he grasped her tie. “What are you doing?”

He undid the loop, dragging the striped red fabric from her collar until it unraveled in his hand.

“It was crooked.”

She had to remind herself that grinning like a fool whenever Draco was nearby was pathetic. But he was a shameless flirt and a damn good co-head. Two things she had not foreseen at the top of the school year.

“I have a confession to make,” Hermione echoed.

Draco lifted a brow, encouraging her to go on.

“I don’t believe you.”

His cheek dimpled. “Shall I demonstrate my wretched skills to prove it?”

Her skin sizzled with heat. They’d been friendly to the point of rousing suspicion among their friends. But this was the first breach beyond platonic friendship, and she wasn’t prepared for the impact.

“I’m terribly hopeless, Granger,” he lamented, draping the tie around her neck asymmetrically.

Hermione swallowed as he coaxed her forward by the ends of the fabric until their faces were inches apart.

“You’re a liar,” she insisted, her voice little more than dazed breath as he righted her collar and crisscrossed the tie, fingertips grazing her chest.

He was all-consumingly close. Daydream Draco close. The one who refused to vacate her mind and never failed to rid the room of oxygen.

He expertly looped the fabric into a Half Windsor, his brow creased in concentration. Maybe if she weren’t so hypnotized by his proximity, she would have noticed the way his breath hitched and the blacks of his eyes expanded. But all she could do was melt when he nudged the knot into place, and whispered, “So kiss me.”

He made a soft moan the moment their lips touched, and she knew it, she knew it, because nobody kissed a girl like that and claimed to know nothing. He yanked the tie. Parted her lips. Teeth and tongue.

It was the kind of kiss she’d only ever dreamed of. Hidden in the depths of the library, alone, but not so remote that nobody could stumble upon them. He wasn’t trying to hide her.

Hermione sank her fingers into his hair, tasting sweet mint, wondering which spell would keep it engrained in her memory for all her future daydreams.

When they separated, Draco’s eyes were hooded and his knees were touching the insides of hers.

“Not bad for a first kiss,” she murmured, distantly aware the bell was ringing.

He took her arm and unrolled her sleeve, buttoning the cuffs. Then did the same with the other. With a wave of his wand, her books tumbled into her schoolbag. He swung her bag over his shoulder and stood, grabbing his own by the handle. The Daily Prophet floated back on the shelf.

“I have a confession to make,” he said, offering her his hand.

Hermione slipped her fingers through his, rising to her feet, looking up at him curiously.

“I wish that was my first kiss.”

And then he kissed her again. So swiftly, she didn’t register it until they were halfway to their next class and her heart was pounding so hard, she couldn’t breathe.

(673 words, prompt: so kiss me, cross-posted from twitter)

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Hi! Thanks for running this amazing blog! Lately I've been feeling like reading Drarry fics that would have some nice Harry & Ginny friendship in them, but haven't really been able to find any. You got any recs? Thanks again!

I cannot abide fics in which Ginny is the bad guy! Even in fics where the break up between Harry and Ginny is difficult and complicated, I fully believe that they eventually make it back into friendship. Book Ginny is such a badass, and has nothing but love and support for her best bud, Harry Potter.

Harry and Ginny Friendship

another bridge will have to burn. by anonymous (1,673 words, rated T)

Harry certainly didn't expect to see Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson at a queer Muggle club. He didn't see any of this coming, really.

Elocution by Shaddyr (1,721 words, rated T)

End of the year bonfire night at Hogwarts. Firewhiskey is flowing freely, Ginny is nosy, Harry is rambling and Malfoy just wants to help...

Silver Linings by @kittycargo (2,480 words, rated T)

Harry and Ginny have a long overdue conversation.

Knowing Who I was Before by @janieohio (2,670 words, rated T)

Breaking up is hard, but for Harry and Ginny, staying together isn’t an option if they each want the other to be happy.

Ginny | Your Local Lesbian's Guide to Wooing Draco Malfoy by @skooffuskaild (3,931 words, rated T)

Your Local Lesbian's Guide to Wooing Draco Malfoy by Ginevra Weasley (author of critically acclaimed tome Taking the Broom Out of The Closet: A Memoir and Six Signs You're A Lesbian) is a helpful step-by-step introduction to the confusing and exciting world of courting Malfoy heirs!

Or, Harry and Ginny bond over being queer kids, and manage to successfully ask out Draco Malfoy.

As it was (you know it's not the same) by queercodedvillain (15,832 words, rated T)

Harry's navigating a life he thinks he doesn't deserve and honestly, didn't really think he'd have. For some reason that means a whole lot of Draco Malfoy.

Seeker's High by @corvuscrowned (40,178 words, rated M)

Harry Potter doesn’t expect to take up running years after the war ends; it just sort of happens.

He also doesn’t expect that — as he fights tooth and nail to climb out of a post-war depression he didn’t realize he’d fallen into — he’ll end up running right into the arms of Draco Malfoy.

A half angsty drama, half romcom of Harry working on himself, learning how to accept help from his friends, and falling in love with his childhood nemesis.

Blood and Fire by @lqtraintracks (44,888 words, rated E)

Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated. But when Ginny asks him to be her best man and help her plan her wedding, he can't say no. Having a reckoning with his choices, with himself, won't be easy. To say nothing of seeing Draco again.

Nearly Lost Things, Carefully Tended by @norelationtoatticus (46,653 words, rated E)

Three years after the war, Harry is lost, drifting, and feeling left behind. In an effort to get control of his life, he commits to cleaning out Grimmauld Place top-to-bottom and forcing it to be a home, whether it likes it or not. The rotten old house is stuffed full of antiques, and Harry is shocked to discover none other than Draco Malfoy running the local antique shop. Malfoy is polite -- too polite, and Harry soon finds himself with a mission: to annoy and bother Malfoy with the most hideous, absurd antiques he can find. But along the way, Harry comes to appreciate Draco, his work, and the power of connecting to the people who came before him. It's a hard lesson, but Harry learns that if he wants to build a future, he has to reconnect to his past, and Draco might just be the one to help him do it.

A Gift of True Esteem by @teledild0nix (53,965 words, rated E)

Professor Draco Malfoy believes he has something unique to bring to Hogwarts' History of Magic course. Professor Harry Potter is willing to be convinced.

Had To Be You @lettersbyelise (59,020 words, rated E)

Draco Malfoy is possibly the last person Harry expects to find at the wheel of a Muggle car, on a beautiful summer day on the road to London.

This is the story of how Harry runs into Draco once, twice, three times, and how he doesn’t leave their next meeting to chance.

Such Great Heights by aideomai (93,302 words, rated E)

Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating.

Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[the-sinking-ship]

Nights With You

a gift for @fictional

Pairing: Draco/Harry

Rating: E

Wordcount: 58k

Tags: humor, mutal pining, jealousy, fake dating, praise kink, only one bed, weddings, romantic comedy, the gang takes a holiday, to ITALY, plantdad Draco, with an intense skincare regimen, friends to lovers, frenemies Ginny and Draco, Luna/Ginny, silver trio friendship

Summary:

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

Now all Draco has to do is convince him.

Notes: a gift for my beloved @fictional based on her top 5 favourite tropes: pining, jealousy, fake dating, only one bed, and some enthusiastic praise kink. And ain't that just the damnedest thing?? Those are my favourite tropes too! I went ahead and added some other things we both love: Fashion Draco, HBIC Pansy, and gratuitous depictions of Harry on a motorbike.

This sure was fun to write, so I hope it will be fun to read!

Thank you to my betas!!! @thebooktopus, @epitomereally, and @just-like-that-butmakeitgay

Read on AO3

[dhr-ao3]

Of Harm and Healing

Of Harm and Healing https://ift.tt/vTfPmCi by thepotterfamily “And the opponent, weighing in at 93 kilograms, this cold blooded killer was trained in the trenches of war. The Death Eater himself… Draco Malfoy!” The syllables in his name stretched out beyond Hermione’s comprehension as an overwhelming roar of boos ripped through the crowd. Hermione’s vision swirled as she tried to make sense of what she saw. Who she saw. *** Post War AU. Where Hermione is a St. Mungo's healer in the middle of wooing a donor for her ward when she's brought to an underground duelling club where one Draco Malfoy is a top combatant on his way to a title. But when Draco gets hurt with Hermione is in the audience, she can't help but try and heal this broken man. Words: 8317, Chapters: 1/20, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Padma Patil, Daphne Greengrass, Lucius Malfoy, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Astoria Greengrass Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Healer Hermione Granger, Auror Harry Potter, Supportive Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Good Friend Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Slow Burn Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, runic magic, underground wizard fight club, Draco really really wants to please Lucius, Hermione is going to break some magical laws with RESEARCH, Lucius takes a keen interest in Hermione's abilities, not in a creepy way via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/zILd2GR September 11, 2024 at 07:58AM

[itsnotaphasemomitsanobsession]

To all the tropes I've loved before

✨ Quality fic recs under the cut ✨

✨ If I could read only one trope for the rest of my life, it would be soulmate fic. A treasure of unfounded proportions ✨

Soulmate fics:

Vortex (T): TW: anxiety, brief mention of self harm, nonconsensual drug use (medical abuse in the form of over prescribing medicine). I've read this one several times because of how lovely I find it. The gentle love between Harry and Draco just does something to my cold dead heart. This fic has it all: Auror Harry, Down and out Draco, Teacher Draco, fluff, angst, and just the right amount of soulmate tomfoolery. Read also the authors part two of the fic: Riptide(M).

Everything a Word can Mean (T): Everyone is born with the nickname their soulmate uses for them tattooed on their body, Harry's just so happens to be something everyone calls him. I love this little fic so much, it's really sweet and fluffy and everything you need for a Saturday morning read!

Punch-drunk fingerprints (T): Cute and fluffy fic where if you touch your soulmate it leaves a mark on them. Draco just so happens to get pulled through a corridor with Harry tugging along.

Eighth year fics:

✨ These fics are either the sweetest most fluffiest fics or they are the most heart wrenching fics of all time and I love them with every fiber of my being ✨

Swish and flick (T): If there's one thing to know about me, it's that I LOVE roommate fics and this is a sweet one. Harry and Draco in this are really sweet and I feel like this fic needs to be on everyone's TBR right the frick now.

Inside Your Mind (E): TW: PTSD, use of sex as a coping mechanism (it does get better later), severe bullying. Coming back 8th year has been hard on Draco, but Greg is there to "help" by acting as bodyguard. Harry is pretty sure that's not really helping any. It's a sweet, sad and lovely fic that shows the love of friends and their willingness to keep you safe, but also how those friendships can blossom into something better and healthier. An absolutely beautiful fic and top notch smut if you partake!

Good Company (T): Such a sweet fic of Harry and Draco being friends in their 8th year. Harry feeling like the third wheel to Ron and Hermione falls into a friendship with Draco and Draco is just trying to get through the year. It's very very cute and I'm a big fan!

Lessons in Grace and Decorum (not rated): TW: power dynamic related consent problems, forced proximity, use of torture on purpose and on accident, self worth issues and depression. This is an oldie but a goodie, you will have to read it through a Google doc but it's really really good. Draco sees his dead mom and she gives him advice on how to make friends. It's sweet, sad as fuck and I've read it so many times I just have it permanently downloaded onto my phone.

Quiet (E): TW: implied sexual violence and abuse. Draco and Harry just vibe in the Slytherin common room and drink, gaze longingly at each other, maybe do some homework and play quidditch. There's also a cute little ficlet that is in the same story line, it's cute and it's ginny x pansy (big fan) so check out peripheral.

The In-betweens (T): Harry and Draco are roommates in 8th year. Surprisingly they get along pretty well, Draco sings dirty dancing in the shower and Harry likes it. I love this fic so much and I hope each and every one of you puts this on your TBR right this instant!!!!!

Job fics:

✨ Nothing better than older gay men finding love in what they do and also finding love in each other. Extra points if Harry isn't an Auror and Draco has an odd creative job ✨

The Snitch Maker (T): Draco makes snitches and Harry works for the Quidditch Union for the Administration and Betterment of the British League and its Endeavours. It's really cute and a little silly, Draco is very fun in this and Harry is an ex-auror with a disability. It's very sweet and worth the read

Chasing Shadows (E): TW: homophobia, death, and internalized homophobia. Draco works in a muggle bar and hasn't been in the wizard world for awhile, Harry works as an Auror and his next case is the death of Lucius Malfoy. Very very very good fic, features Harry coming to terms with his sexuality, an openly homosexual Draco and a series of fun OCS that make the fic very charming and worth the read.

Draco from the Wireless show (T): Very much a Welcome to Night Vale type of vibe. It's interesting and funny and just slightly odd which I love a whole lot. Draco in this is silly and a bit of a hermit and Harry is just trying to figure out why this town is so odd? I recommend this for days where you really need something silly to lift your spirits!

✨ please please please make sure you comment and leave kudos on the fics that you enjoy to let the authors know their worth!!!! ✨

[suugarbabe]

hii, congratulations on the 1k followers! and i have a requested for you

not sure if it is a specific trope but, theodore nott and a reader where theyre friends and both oblivious to each others feelings. then, at night, after a bay day they end up together, something like this. just a cute moment where they feel free to be themselves and share a genuine comfortable moment

hope you have fun writing this! 🩷

ignorance is bliss except when its ignorance of Theo Nott's feelings for you and vise versa

You weren't an idiot, your grades alone proved that. But as Pansy would tell you, there's a difference between book smart and common sense, and your common sense of awareness was highly lacking. At least according to Pansy, because two weeks ago she told you that she thought Theo may like you back; actually, she said she knew he liked you back, but you just blew it off.

You had confided in her two years ago about your crush on your best friend, how you had begun to notice your platonic friendship growing into feelings that were more romantic. Your friend group had constantly teased both of you openly for years, jokingly calling you Mrs. Nott, suggesting there was more than meets the eye, things like that.

At the beginning you had always denied it, told them to fuck off and leave you guys alone, that you two were just best friends and Draco and Mattheo were just jealous that they could barely get a girl to stay around them for more than one night let alone be an actual friend.

However, lately when those same jokes would happen, your cheeks would burn, your heart would flutter, your stomach would tighten in knots. You would still laugh it off, but you couldn't help that your eyes would wonder to Theo, trying to gauge his reactions and see if they were any different.

To you, there was nothing different in Theo, he still joked and laughed about everything as always. Still wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, still gave your temple a chaste kiss and told his friends to fuck off. But his lips on your skin left you dizzy, and it was hard to avoid the looks Pansy would give you after interactions like that.

But after the day you had today, you didn't care what anyone thought, you didn't think about your feelings, you just wanted Theo. Wanted him like the old days when he could comfort you and hold you when you were upset, when he would tell you stories about his shenanigans with the other boys just to make you laugh and forget about whatever it was you were worried about.

When the boys walked into the common room and Theo saw you on a sofa near the fire, arms wrapped around your shins and chin on your knees, he told the guys he'd meet them later and walked over to you.

"Can I sit?" you didn't lift your head up at the sound of his voice, you knew who it was. "Always can, Teddy."

Theo sat on the couch next to you, pulling his long legs beneath him sitting criss-cross, "You know you're the only person I let call me that."

"I'm pretty sure I've heard Draco and Mattheo both call you Teddy before," you stared at the crackling flames in front of you, magically licking the edges of the wood in the fireplace. Theo snorted, "I didn't allow them to call me that, I definitely beat their arse after."

You turned your head, resting your cheek on the tops of your knees now to look at him, "So why haven't you kicked my arse yet?" There was the smallest smile on your face and Theo felt like he'd won the lottery with just that small change in your mood.

Theo displayed a toothy grin, one he typically only saved for you, "You're the most important person in my life, bella ragazza." You sat up straighter, eyes locked with his now. You scooted closer to him, close enough that you were able to lean your head on his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, giving your side a slight squeeze, making you giggle before telling him to stop. You felt him place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You looked back into the fire, basking in it's warmth, in the feeling of Theo's fingertips dancing in the sliver of skin peeks from under your jumper, in the possibility that maybe Pansy was right, and Theo does feel the same about you as you do him.

[hp-bodiceripper]

WEEK 2 MASTERLIST

Second and final week of this year's fest is done! Here is our week 1 masterlist if you still need to catch up.

It brought us photoshoots and murder mysteries, Hogwarts professors after hours, stableboys in summer courts, and friends who are there for you in the toughest of times.

Dig in and catch up with all the lovely creations before our guessing game starts this Sunday!

An anon masterlist of all the works will be posted on Sunday too, with reveals happening on August 20th.

🎨 Art

Joy Exposed

(Fleur Delacour/Ginny Weasley, G, Digital art)

Ginny and Fleur give an interview for Daily Prophet’s new Weekend Magazine and spend hours doing an accompanying photoshoot. When it comes to approving the selection of photos for print, they unanimously choose the candid one taken on their break, rather than all the styled and posed images.

nocturn says about this: THIS IS GORGEOUS!! I adore their expressions, the sneakers, that awesome headline, and all of the fun colors! citrusses says about this: Oh my god this is BEAUTIFUL!

Monday Murder Club

(Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lavender Brown/Padma Patil, T, Digital art) The members of a crime-solving club find love and friendship amidst the blood.

nv-md says about this: Such a cool idea, and I adore the couples you’ve chosen and their poses together. Slowly_learning says about this: Extra mention for the comic style in the second chapter, super super cute!!

The Professor's Passion

(Narcissa Black Malfoy/Hermione Granger, G, Digital art) Hermione is a professor and Gryffindor head of house. She loves her job... until Narcissa Malfoy is hired on the school's faculty, and is now head of Slytherin. God, that woman is insufferable. Hermione despises her so much she can hardly think about anything else. (She must hate her... that's why she always feels so hot and bothered when she's around, right? And does she have to be so damn beautiful?)

wolfpants says about this: You've really captured the spirit of the fest with this - so passionate and heated! Summer says about this: The colors of their dresses are so vibrant and I love the atmosphere you created!

🎵 Podfic

Masks Off

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Teen, 3h 15 min)

Draco had followed his parents to this Caribbean island as a matter of course, even though no one had told him what they were doing here or why his father’s ships were frequently attacked by masked pirates. And, honestly, Draco’d had no intention of actually finding out either.

Sylvie says about this: That was a lot of fun. I love your voice! zippysuffix says about this: This was so good! I love how you brought the story to life.

🖋 Fic

Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage

(Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, E, 21k) Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way.

RaenyDay says about this: I am thoroughly enjoying this fic! The banter between Draco, Blaise, and Pansy cracked me up. milkandhoney says about this: The worldbuilding was top tier 👌

Love Me Meow

(Arabella Fig/Minerva McGonagall, E, 2.5k) After the students leave for the summer, Headmaster McGonagall and the new Muggle Studies professor have a chance and sensuous encounter at the beach.

acari says about this: Arabella is such a saucy minx. That was very fun. Anon says about this: Love the summer vibes!

The Real Thing

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, M, 5k) Harry only means to cheer Draco up after a terrible breakup. He doesn't mean to fall in love.

Bubblegumhead says about this: This story made me feel so very warm, content and over flowing with such emotions. Basicallyahedgehog says about this: So soft and sweet and gorgeous.

[tumblingghosts]

au where Draco is in Gryffindor, Ron is in Slytherin and Daphne makes an appearance?

re: au ask game

oooh that's an interesting au! i don't know much about daphne, but here's how i think it could play out-

1) draco is sorted before harry and ron are. he expects slytherin. it's expected of him to be in slytherin. the sorting hat disagrees. draco does his best to argue for his way, but it doesn't work. if anything, that kind of resistance, the nerve to argue with the sorting hat, whose sole purpose is to sort the students, only solidifies where he is about to go. draco gets put in gryffindor, and he reluctantly joins the table of his new house.

2) when the sorting hat gets to harry, he doesn't have a reason to say "not slytherin" and gets sent there. ron gets to the sorting hat and it doesn't matter that the rest of his family has sorted gryffindor- he wants to be someone different, someone outside of "just another weasley", and on top of that, his new friend has just sorted slytherin. the sorting hat has little issue putting ron in the house of snakes.

3) it isn't an easy ordeal for any of them. draco isn't keen on his gryffindor housemates, and his attitude doesn't endear them towards friendship. snape is still snape, but at least harry and ron have each other. percy/fred/george check in on ron the second day to make sure that he's alright after his first night in the dorms. they also update him on the Draco Situation, which percy is monitoring as prefect because arthur weasley has told them all about lucius malfoy giving him trouble at work.

4) snape impresses the importance of reading the textbooks before class to all the slytherin first years, but harry and ron are busy settling in and don't read it, so they aren't able to answer during the first potions class. snape doesn't want to dock points from his own house so early into the year, so he breaks up their pair instead and gives them different partners. ron gets paired up with daphne greengrass, harry gets paired with pansy.

5) ron and daphne actually end up striking up a friendship (after some initial tenseness at being separated from harry), bonding over a love of chess. ron teaches harry how to play wizarding chess in the slytherin common room when he meets with daphne to play against her. draco ends up striking an unlikely friendship with neville after snape assigns them as partners after neville & seamus's first disastrous potion to prevent future incidents.

(slowly, ron and harry carve a place for themselves in slytherin. not everyone likes them, but they have each other, and they find friends there. draco is initially frustrated with neville's poor performance in potions, but starts to warm up to him when neville offers help in herbology in return. it's not what ron or draco expected of hogwarts, but they make it work for themselves.)

thanks for the au! <3

[magicalsydney]

December Dramione Drabble

The frigid air whipped around Hermione as she sat at the top row of the quidditch stands. She promised Harry she would watch his final game, and she cursed her loyalty to his friendship at the moment. She placed herself toward the top of the stands, away from the crowd of Hogwarts students hoping to escape the whispers and unwanted admirers.

The wooden bleachers creaked next to her, and she found Malfoy approaching her. He was bundled in a dark wool coat, covered in black from head to toe, except his green and grey scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Granger, why are you all the way up here? It’s freezing.” He inquired, sitting next to her.

“Too many people down there.” She explained and moved closer to him, so their bodies were nearly touching. “Why are you here at all?” She asked.

“I happen to like quidditch.” He responded, bumping his shoulder against hers. She looked over at him and threw him an eye roll. She knew the last thing he wanted to do was sit out in the cold watching a Gryffindor and Slytherin match he was not a part of. “I saw you from the castle. You looked lonely up here.” He confessed and scooted even closer to Hermione, the space between them now non-existent.

“No one is paying attention to us. All eyes are on Potter.” He quipped. She could tell by the wrinkle in his forehead and the way his eyes were moving that he was searching for the snitch, his seeker instincts working even as a spectator.

“You know he asked me to invite you to Christmas at Grimmauld.” She declared, moving her gaze away from him and back toward the field, afraid to see Draco’s reaction.

“Hmm, Weasley going to be there?” He asked, his eyes not leaving the sky in front of him.

“No. Just me. Harry doesn’t want to go over to the burrow on Christmas Day. Things are still a little awkward with Ginny and whatnot. So we promised we would be there for each other. Sleep in, watch Christmas movies, make a nice dinner.”

“You didn't think to ask me what I was doing for Christmas?” He questioned, his voice slightly terser than the last time he spoke.

“Like I said, I thought you wanted to be discreet.” She said softly. He placed a hand on her knee, and she looked at him in response. She felt tears begin to form behind her eyes at the thought of spending Christmas without him. This Christmas would be her first without her parents, without the Weasleys. She wanted to be with Draco; she just didn’t want to have to ask.

“I’ll be there.” He confirmed.

“Thank you.” She whispered, giving him a small smile, and they both went back to watching the match in silence. After a few minutes, Hermione shivered from the cold wind. She felt Draco moving next to her and noticed him unraveling his scarf from his neck. Before she could protest, Draco leaned over and wrapped his scarf around her tightly. After he finished, he leaned in close to her, taking her face in his hands; he whispered, “Fuck discreet.” and kissed her.

Loud cheers from a few rows below broke out, and Hermione and Draco pulled apart quickly to see what caused the commotion. Hermione and Draco thought the snitch had been caught, but they found a group of fellow 8th years staring back at them, cheering.

“I knew it!” Neville yelled.

“You owe me twenty galleons.” Theo cheered, pointing at Pansy.

“Go, Hermione!” Luna hollered.

“I guess all eyes weren’t on Harry.” Hermione giggled, smiling at Draco as he threw his arm over he shoulder and pulled her in close.

Fin.