#tacky's fth

[tackytigerfic]

WIP Snip

Nearly finished this fic, final extended scene is a go atm. In this snippet, Harry has just arrived unexpectedly at the Manor where Draco is undercover pretending to be a Death Eater. CW for wandpoint confessions and mild angst.

Draco’s eyes narrowed but he put his hand inside his robe and then, quicker than Harry could have hoped to notice, Draco had his wand out and was holding it to Harry's throat, pressing hard so the wood bit into the tender skin under his jawline. "You are Harry, I suppose? You seem right, of course, but there’s always a chance that someone enterprising might come along with a stash of Polyjuice and a gift for impersonation.” “Oh, fuck off,” Harry managed, and the point of Draco’s wand wormed slowly deeper into flesh. “You knew it was me the second you saw me.” “Mmm, I suppose that’s true,” Draco murmured agreeably, something suggestive about how the sound travelled through the small space between them. His free hand strayed to Harry’s forehead and he brushed his fingers lightly over the dried blood that Harry could feel tightening on the skin there. “But indulge me. Tell me something only you would know.” Harry scoffed, though he was thinking with his throat tight of Arthur knocking at the door of the Burrow in the middle of the night long ago, and Molly blushing, and how they had exposed the long intimacy of their marriage for safety's sake. “There’s a lot I could tell you,” he said tightly. “If you’re really sure you want to hear it.” “By all means,” Draco said, eyes on Harry, searching for something in his face. “You fucked me in that bed and afterwards you asked me not to leave because you wanted to wake up with me? Remember?” Draco wanted to look towards the bed, Harry could tell by the way his eyes flickered, but he resisted, and so Harry went on. “You told me you wanted us to win this war just so you could take me back to London and feed me my favourite ice-cream off your spoon. You told me the only thing you miss about France is how you and your mum really got to know each other properly, and that when she gets back you want to take her for dinner to that little French bistro we went to that time in Edinburgh. I know you remember that, you said the wine was better than anything in the cellar here.” Draco nodded shortly, and almost regretfully pulled his wand away from Harry’s neck. He didn’t move away. “Yes, fair enough, I believe you.” But Harry couldn’t stop, didn’t know how to shut up now he had started. “The last time we were together, you told me that I’m generous with my love. Do you remember that? And I wondered then… because I’d never said it, had I? Not out loud, anyway. Neither of us had. But I thought, maybe— Maybe it meant that you knew.” Draco was staring, his eyes wide and shocked, a blush crawling up his neck, blotchy with heat. Neither of them moved, the silence between them growing until Harry could practically feel it. Draco almost raised his hand to Harry then; Harry sensed the arrested movement, the enforced stillness. He didn’t know what he’d do if Draco touched him. But he didn’t have to find out, because that’s when the knock at the door sounded.

Does anyone have a snippet they'd like to share? Consider yourself tagged and pls tag me so i can see as i've been off tumblr and i miss every single thing on here. And I'll no-pressure-tag @boxboxlewis @citrusses @fluxweeed @maesterchill @moonflower-rose @skeptiquex @sweet-s0rr0w @the-starryknight plus the FrotCotLot.

[maesterchill]

Maester's 2023 Fic Recs

(eyyy, another banner art by me, snake of Slytherin, heheh🐍)

Not one to normally do rec lists, me, as they are tricksy, fiddly things, and I'm pants at knowing what to say about a good fic that accurately conveys my love for it beyond keysmash and 'aaargh i loved it'.

Which is why this has taken me 3 weeks to bloody pull together... 😄

So I'm just going to list them out and maybe comment a bit, we'll see.

And can I just say this has been a STELLAR year for fics, so many amazing ones to choose from. And I also apologise in advance to the authors if I haven't left you a comment, I am terribly behind, but comments will come, spurting in contrite ribbons over the stomachs of your fics, forthwith.

fyi: there's a mix of Drarry and other ships but it's 90% Drarry.

1k or less 🍬

💚 A summer afternoon in the parlour by fast_brother (Narcissa & Andromeda, G, 300 words)

'Narcissa's perspective on the day Andromeda is disowned by their family.' Stunning writing and so, so poignant.

💚 You Have Always Been My Bedtime Story by @squintclover (Drarry pre-slash, G, 435 words)

So many Smol Draco feels 🥺🥺🥺

💚 Uneasy Alliance, Enough Magic and After All by @the-starryknight (Drarry, T, 1000 words each)

GORGEOUS series written for FTH. Featuring Harry losing his magic, a set of microfics, and a Choose Your Own Adventure section! Plus there's a 4th part to come! Genius author is genius.

Less than 5k 🍭

💚 The Broken wand by @lqtraintracks (Drarry, T, 1.3k)

Absolutely exquisite pining. 2nd person POV done right.

💚Follow the Butterflies by @rainstormradish (Aragog/Flying Ford Anglia, T, 1.4k)

You might have to trust me on this ship, and you would be right to do so, because this sweet, melancholic and haunting fic made me feel a thing about a giant spider and a car.

💚Rise Forgetful From Your Sleep by @kbrick (Drarry, G 1.5k)

'Draco finds Harry Potter waiting for him at the Manor. But Potter has been dead for ten years.' CHILLING. Dark Harry deliciousness

💚Making Noise by @cavendishbutterfly (Drarry, E 2.4k)

Professors!Drarry. Fun, fun, fun and fab twist.

💚Proven lands by @oknowkiss (Drarry, E 2.8k)

Really loved this story told in microfics. Beautiful, haunting, bittersweet.

💚I Fall On Grass by @tackytigerfic (Drarry, T, 3k) 

Single-parent-middle-aged Drarry is ambrosia from the gods, at least the way Tacky writes it. Rec rec rec x1000.

💚Quick Quotes and Quibbles by @rainstormradish (Luna/Rita Skeeter, T, 3k)

Epistolary hilarity and now I ship it

💚Just another Friday night by @cavendishbutterfly (Drarry, E 3k)

Excellent. A potent shotglass full of of bafflement, curiosity, hesitancy and and recklessness and hope and realisations... ah honestly just all the feels.

💚The Roommates by @citrusses (Drarry, Draco/Sirius, E, 3.6k)

Fucked up, hot and wicked.

💚I've Got a Beautiful Feeling (Everything's Going My Way) by toomuchplor (Drarry, E, 3.6k)

Brilliant old-married Drarry PWP plus bonus pass-ag emails by Draco

💚That Lavender Haze by @lettersbyelise (Draco/Pansy, Drarry if you squint, 3.8k)

This 2024 bittersweet gem snuck in because I say so. Dransy platonic (hot) sex and love, plus Drarry fantasy.

💚Under the table by @xanthippe74 (Drarry, T, 4k)

An utter delight! Oblivious Draco POV of a string of dinner parties that's both funny and sharp.

💚Baggage Claim by @greattemptation (Drarry, M, 4k)

'The couples therapy had gone poorly. So poorly, in fact, that obliviators had been called.' Wonderful established Drarry with sharp character insights.

💚The real thing by @skeptiquewrites (Drarry, M, 5k)

Caretaker Harry surrounded by people who love him. Friendship, pining and a gentle love that's exactly my jam.

💚Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (Drarry, E, 5.5k)

CHARMINGEST of charming fics. Funny, sweet, sexy, and I would die for this oblivious Harry.

Less than 15k 🍩

💚Team Building for Dummies by InnerLilith (Drarry, E, 6k)

Bickering then fucking, yes please. Bickering WHILE fucking, even better. Plus Quidditch and angrily catching feelings. Chef's kiss.

💚The Realm of Possibility by @porcelainheart3 (Drarry, M, 6k,)

'You can't outrun your past, but you can fuck around with parallel versions of the present.' Amazing premise, as to be expected from porcelainheart's galaxy brain, and excellently delivered, as per.

💚Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (Drarry, E, 7.7k)

Another big-brained author with a cool premise. What if Drarry's hookups were erased from their memory each and every time? An amazing story, that's what.

💚Among the elements by @sweet-s0rr0w (Drarry, M, 8k)

Sweets has delivered the perfect Mpreg fic here. Beautiful, sensitive, hard-hitting. Spellbinding and full of heart. I emotioned a lot.

💚Blackjack by @cassiopeiasshadow (Drarry, Romione, M, 9k) 

Unwitting Seer Ron POV that had me howling. Perfect perfection.

💚Always the Last to Know by @nv-md (Drarry, M, 10k)

Ever wanted to hear the story of Draco's birth? Well snap, if only we could get him to recount it 😂 A brilliant take on the 'Everyone knows Harry's in love before Harry does' trope.

💚Mastermind by @schmem14 (Drarry, Dron, Rarry, E, ~11k)

Dark and delicious. Malevolent Draco and amazing Ron. Top-notch horror. TW: MCD, Infidelity

💚A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants (Drarry, E, 13k)

Etiquette coach Draco is perfection! UST through the roof and so many touching moments (both meanings of the word, wink wonk).

Less than 25k 🍦

💚the earth from a distance by @andthepeople (Drarry, E, 15k)

Accidental time travel ... to 400 years ago. WELP. Worth it even just for Hogwarts in the 16th century. Highly rec!

💚Still the pine-woods scent the moon by @fluxweeed (Harry/Remus, E, 15.5k)

Written in 2022 but I read it this year, so it gets included. STUNNING fic. The meltingly hot UST. Remus's restraint hanging on by a thread. Indescribably hot.

💚the eighth sin by @honeybeet (Drarry, E, 16k)

Mesmerising and dreamlike - uncanny and unsettling. Beautifully written and thought-provoking. The seven eight sins motif is so subtly done.

💚If i could never give you peace by @poisonivy206 (Drarry, E, 17k)

Aah. Two broken lost men reluctantly working a case together. Hook it up to my veins! Beautiful.

💚The Boys of Summer by @saxamophone (Drarry, E, 19.5k)

Post Eighth Year summer vibes. The bittersweet dread of a summer fling ending. Just lovely!

💚Freely Given and Entirely True by @rockingrobin69 (Drarry collection of one-shots, various ratings, 22k)

If you're in need of heart-warming fluff and adorable antics and happy happy boys, then look no further. These will soothe the soul.

Less than 50k 🍰

💚With Love in Her Luminous Eyes by @starquestingfordrarry (Drarry, T, 30k) 

Adored this. Gentle, heart-warming sentient Grimmauld Place fic, with fluffy OCs and a captivating Outsider POV. Just fab.

💚Draco Malfoy & the Journal of Dreadful Things by @lilbeanz (Drarry pre-slash, G, 34k)

I'm not normally into canon rewrites but lilbeanz has a way of writing that brings me unbridled joy, so I lapped up every word. Written in 2022, but part 2 was posted in 2023 and I can't wait to get my teeth into it!

💚Nothing Gold Can Stay by @moonflower-rose (Drarry, E, 40k)

Rosie knocking all our socks off with this belter of a multiverse fic. Massive rec. You will laugh and you will gasp and you will cry.

💚A pulled down shade by fast_brother (Drarry, M, 43k)

Another galaxy brain fic that pulled my heartstrings tight. All my favourite tropes in one place!

💚The Unplottable Time Conundrum by @writcraft (Drarry, E, 45k)

Sucked me in from start to finish. Plus Marauders goodness that will make your heart ache. 😭 But we will forgive. Amazing

💚Find a new place to be from by @oflights (Drarry, E, 47k)

When drunk stalking turns into more. Loved Draco in his scary modern Muggle home. ❤️

Less than 100k 🍗

💚Yellow Is The Colour (Of My True Love's Hair) by @mintawasalreadytaken (Drarry, E, 64k)

When minta posts a Deathly Hallows re-write you know it isn't going to be a cookie-cutter happy-ever-after story. TW: MCD

💚Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (Drarry, E 75k)

Dumb unhinged Auror partners. A thoroughly enjoyable read.

More than 100k 🥩

💚Always already by @aibidil (Drarry E, 170k)

Aib at the top of her game. Drarry in the 1970s. Funny, twisty, clever and brimming with the smart stuff. And more goddammn Marauders heartbreakyness😭.

💚I do not love you by @writandromance (Drarry, M,  228k)

Another fic that's from pre-2023, but I'd seen so many recs for it and gave it a go this year. The hype was right, a rollercoaster of emotions, both in the past and present settings, deep love and deep angst beautifully and heartstoppingly written. One you'll think about for weeks afterwards.

[willowmckinley]

FTH Practice 4

Thank you, @gaylanrivens, for your prompt "something with sour candy"!

I ended up making this take place in "The Opposite Of" verse, haha, during their college years.

Words: 689

Boyd frantically types. The soothing clacking of his typewriter has snowballed into a cacophony of grating clicks. Boyd has a headache that he cannot afford to rub out, for the absence of his fingers on his keys.

He feels an icepick slicing through his eye, all the way through his frontal lobes and into his parietals.

He pulls out the sheet after he finishes, page 19 out of 20. He reaches into his bag of candy next to his machine as he reads over his typing, making sure he hadn’t made any egregious typos while the content is still fresh. The sour lemon candy keeps him awake.

Boyd has been awake for two days, running on sixty-four hours. He blames Raylan. He wants to kill him. Feast on his stupid ass, dumb ass man.

Boyd sucks on the candy, rolls it around his tongue. It’s strong, but he wishes that fool Raylan hadn’t had all of his coffee caffeine candies already. Asshole.

Boyd clears out a few words with his liquid paper. He grabs another candy as he shakes the paper in the air. He sets it down to dry, while grabbing page eighteen. He runs his index finger over the blanked words to make sure they can be typed over. Ascertaining that they are suitably dry, he slides the sheet back into the type writer.

He swallows the sour saliva, as he tries to remember what the fuck he was trying to say in their absence. He pulls out his hand written notes, trying to fight through the fog.

Raylan peeks in through the door. Boyd can feel him there, fretting and hovering. “Get out,” he warns. Raylan is the one who had convinced him to fuck him through the first night, when Boyd should have been finishing this paper, and Raylan is the one who had needed picking up the night before, when Boyd should have been finishing this paper.

So instead of having a complete 20 out of 20 pages to show for himself, Boyd instead has a cock empty of come, spent all in Raylan’s whorish little hole, and three hundred bucks shorter, having gone to bail for that same cute little whore.

Raylan whines. Boyd shoots him the middle finger as he finishes typing his corrections one-handed for page 19.

Boyd rips the page free. He shoves another few lemonheads past his teeth. Page 20. Boyd’s vision blurs as his eyes dry out once more. His teeth bear down on the candy, and he hears it crack. His teeth are sore, and he does not stop his typing.

“Boyd,” Raylan whimpers from the door. The poor creature had offered to type Boyd’s draft for him. As if Boyd himself had not been typing Raylan’s papers since they moved in together. Boyd ignores his pitiful cries.

Beastly, his Raylan.

Boyd pulls his sheet from the machine. He reads it over, repeats the process. He then has time to clear up the last page.

He throws a few more candies in his mouth. He neats his pages in a stack. The staple clicks into place with little battle.

Raylan’s hands are on his shoulders, the moment Boyd’s paper is in the suit case he had bought at the flea market.

Boyd looks up. Raylan kisses his lips. He snakes his tongue between Boyd’s parted lips. His face twists against Boyd’s own, as the candy sours his palette.

Boyd laughs.

Raylan pulls back. His fingers curl deep into Boyd’s shirt. “When do you have to leave for class?” he asks, quiet and low.

Boyd bites into his jaw. Raylan groans, rutting himself against Boyd’s thigh, the little slut that he is. Boyd pulls back, even as Raylan follows his lips. Boyd holds his right hand up and checks his watch. “Forty minutes.”

“Can I blow you?” Raylan asks. He wiggles his hips against Boyd’s cock.

“Reward you, Raylan? For this hideously tacky display collegiate cliché?” Boyd asks.

“Apology,” Raylan sniffs, rubbing his nose along Boyd’s neck.

Boyd rolls his eyes. He snaps his fingers. “Get to it, then. You only have thirty-nine minutes now.”

Raylan drops to his knees with a pleased, needy grin.

[tackytigerfic]

im soo hyped for that wartime fic :O do you have any entire how long in terms of chapters it will be?

Hello Anon, thank you so much for being excited about this. It really is such a kind thing to tell me, esp after I've been writing this fic for so long and having absolutely zero perspective on it anymore.

I am hoping to post it in chapters, as I have never had a fic long enough to do that with before! And it might be my only chance. It's currently nearly 220k with a bit more to write (but not much more!) though I am going to try to cut it back as close to about 150k as I can get it. And then I'm going to try to divide it into about 15 chapters or so, and post a chapter every 2 days for a month. They will be big chunky boys, those chapters! I know a lot of people don't read WIPs and I don't mind if people don't follow along, but I have read along with a handful of WIPs myself and it was such fun that I thought I'd like to try it from the other side. I do also have a smut epilogue planned which I might have to post a bit later, depending on how quickly I get through the editing process.

Here's a little snip from the fic too, just while I'm here, and since it's still WIP Snip Sunday! In this scene, Harry and Draco are no longer friends, after Draco ran off to France. They have just been humiliated to learn (through drinking a charmed drink) that they share the same happiest memory, and it involves a day out they had in London together many years before.

"It’s obviously some sort of error in the charm, like you said.”

“Exactly.” Draco had the steel of conviction in his voice. “But even if it wasn’t… if that really was your happiest memory, I mean. Well, you know I’m not judging you.”

“Well, you’re not exactly in any position to judge me, are you?” Harry said nastily, hating himself a bit for it. “After all, it was your happiest memory too.”

They were quiet then, Harry weighing up Draco’s silence, judging it for what he knew it was; a confession.

“Well,” Draco said, and cleared his throat. “It really was excellent ice-cream.”

“Hermione says we all have some sort of trauma reaction from being at war for so long, and she thinks I’m latching onto anything that isn’t completely terrible in my past.”

“Oh, cheers,” Draco broke in. “Though I suppose not-completely-terrible is a fair assessment.”

Harry wanted to tell him that there was a time when he was pretty much the exact opposite of terrible—the counterpoint to all the shitty things Harry had to worry about, the thing that undercut all the misery and drudgery of the war Harry was locked into. But Harry couldn’t remember feeling the purity of those feelings anymore, not since they’d been all muddied up by Draco leaving, the awful gasping pain of the surprise abandonment, the sick relentless ache of the realisation that Draco really wasn’t coming back.

“I miss London,” he said instead. “Sometimes I even miss Grimmauld Place.”

“That’s another thing he’s ruined,” Draco said, shoving his sweating plastic bags of takeaway onto the small table. “London always felt so safe. It was so big, so anonymous. I could be anyone I wanted there. And now he’s everywhere, like a virus. How often do you get back there?”

“Hardly ever,” Harry said. “When I went to meet you, that was the first time in months. The Council thinks it’s too much of a risk, me going into his territory. His warding system isn’t as sophisticated as ours yet, of course, but he’s working with a lot of innate power there, and it’s concentrated stuff. If I fall into his hands, it would be all over for us.”

“Lots of magic per square foot in London,” Draco agreed. “I do worry about that. If he gets back to his full strength at any point, with all that magical energy behind him…”

“I know,” Harry said. “It’s one of the things that keeps me up at night, to be honest.”

“There are probably quite a few of those,” Draco said, lip curling not unkindly. “Do you— I mean, I always order too much…” He waved his hand at the bags of takeaway. Harry could see a curling bag of brown paper with the corner of a herb-dappled naan poking out, and he felt ravenous again, all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I could eat,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

[tackytigerfic]

A pinned post—only four years or so after joining Tumblr.

Here's a link to my works page on AO3. My profile on AO3 has some information about me and my works. I write mostly Drarry but there are a couple of Dronarry fics, a Dron, and some rarepairs. I'm a mod of @hdsudsfest and was also a mod of @lockdownfest. I'm currently writing a long Drarry multiverse fic. It's not finished yet but I post snippets under the tag tacky's fth. I'm not a rec blog but when I want to rec a fic I usually tag it with rowing recs. My short fic rec lists are here and here. I'm working (very slowly) on a third and always love to read great new short works. The wonderful @drarrymicrofic team have an excellent tagging system so it's easier to find my Tumblr ficlets under their tag 🤗 I try to tag any of my writing posts with the tag rowing and writing. Writing chat or general fandom thoughts go under the tag rowing and chatting — there's a bit of everything in there. The other main tags I use are rec of my fic and art of my fic — I mention these because they tend to include some excellent Drarry creations (and are mostly not confined to my fics!)

We all know Tumblr's tagging system leaves a lot to be desired so this is absolutely not a comprehensive way of finding posts, but sin é!

I also love asks, though can be slow to respond due to limited fandom time.

[tackytigerfic]

WIP Snip

Writing writing writing atm, which is lovely. Here's a snip that I promised to @sitp-recs - this is one of the interludes in the very long sex scene i just finished. I wish all creators a fruitful week ahead! Please share your WIPs if you fancy it!

Harry woke in the middle of the night to the sound of a distant siren. They had left the curtains open when they went to bed, and on the pillow next to him Draco’s hair was a snarled silver tangle. They were in Harry’s old bedroom.

Harry felt blissfully tender, every muscle aching, a sore, well-used feeling every time he moved, his mouth still tingling from the charm they’d had to use before bed, since they had no toothbrushes and no energy to risk another supply run. Draco was fast asleep, sprawled halfway across the bed, face buried in the pillow, one arm outstretched as though reaching towards Harry. A dark bruise was blossoming on Draco’s neck and Harry reached to touch it, almost helpless with the need to be closer. Was this what it was like for everyone, he wondered, when they first got to touch someone they wanted the way he wanted Draco? He couldn’t even remember how it felt not to be able to do this. It was so easy to trace the shadow of the bruise then move on to other parts, over the slope of windpipe and across the sharp collarbone, stroking the swell of bicep and down until their fingers intertwined in a careful tangle. Harry couldn’t get enough.

“Hi,” Draco said, croaky, his one visible eye opening blearily then blinking against the moonlight, trying to focus. “Can’t sleep?”

Harry made a non-committal noise, and kept stroking. He was at Draco’s hip now, the one nearest him, smoothing his palm over the curve of it, fingers trailing along the swell of Draco’s arse. He probably could have slept if he’d tried; his eyes were stinging, thighs aching, shoulders tight. He probably needed to sleep. But this felt more urgent, somehow; there was something essential, something necessary, about the two of them here in the silent oasis of the bedroom, creating a warm centre of breath and bodies at the heart of the cold, quiet house.

Tagging @thehoneybeet @kbrick @maesterchill @oknowkiss @shealwaysreads @skeptiquex @sweet-s0rr0w @the-starryknight if you have anything you'd like to share.

[tackytigerfic]

WIP Snip Saturday

Hello friends. Life is crazy atm but trying to work away on my writing as much as i can. This is a snip from my eternal work-in-progress, a wartime AU in which Harry didn't defeat Voldemort and there's a war still going on seven years after the Battle. In this bit, Harry and Draco have discovered a sort of time-travel device that allows them to move between other universes. Harry is just back from another world, fallen fast asleep, and is now waking up. Unedited. Does anyone else want to share a snip? I feel like I've lost track of so much over the last few weeks, and I miss fandom.

The bed was very comfortable, and the light was dim, and Harry wanted to die.

“I want to die,” he announced, just to underline the fact, but the effect was ruined by his voice cracking down the middle and causing a coughing fit.

From beside the bed, Malfoy made a quiet amused noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, and primly poured a glass of water from a large bulbous sweating jug that sat on the bedside cabinet. The second Harry saw it, he felt desperately thirsty all of a sudden, and the desire to drink was so strong that he heaved himself up in the bed so he could grasp the glass and gulp it down, then a second, and some of a third, before he—gasping—set the glass down again.

“Shall I crack on and order the coffin, or do you think you’ll last the night?” Malfoy enquired. “Only I had thought of popping down to the kitchen and making a cheese toastie, and if you’re not about to expire imminently, I could knock one up for you too.”

“Don’t tease me,” Harry said. “Because I truly believe that only a cheese toastie could bring me back from the brink.”

“Can you walk?” Malfoy asked briskly. “Only, it’s been a few hours now, and I know it’s a big house but you’re Harry Potter, you know, and people will be keeping an eye out for you. And—” Malfoy looked down at his little notebook, which was full of sprawling scribbles and, at one margin, a doodle of what looked to Harry to be his own head in sleeping side profile, his mouth slack with sleep, which was really quite rude when he thought about it “—if you end up spending the whole evening in my room, people might notice.” He coughed delicately, and Harry couldn’t see his face properly, but there was a creeping flush of pink up the back of his bowed neck, and all of a sudden Harry realised what he was suggesting people would think.

“I didn’t think— I mean, we would never…”

Harry trailed off as Malfoy, still blushing, looked up and met his eyes. “Yes, yes, alright.” He sounded cool and distant, like he was already half out of the room. “No need to be quite so emphatic about it. You know that, and I know that, but who’s to tell what fervid imaginings people can get up to? Especially when it comes to a celebrity.”

Harry hadn’t realised just how much Malfoy had warmed up to him, until the warmth was suddenly gone.

“Furthermore,” Malfoy went on, giving Harry a damning look of appraisal that had him bristling, “you do look a bit fucked out at the moment, if you don’t mind me saying. You might want to fix yourself up before we go wandering the corridors together, just in case we somehow give people the wrong idea. Feel free to use my bathroom. I’ll just get on with my work while I wait.”

Harry was distinctly wobbly, but by the time he heaved himself out of the bed—Malfoy’s bed, he thought grimly—and tottered into the bathroom, he had started to feel a bit more like himself. Outside, he could hear the scratching repetitive sound of Malfoy writing at his desk.

“So, why exactly do I feel so terrible?” Harry called through the door before braving a look in the mirror. He did look a bit fucked out, he supposed, if people’s minds were to run that way. His hair was a disaster, like he had been thoroughly tossing his head around on a pillow, and fingercombing could only do so much. Worse still was the look of heat he still had about him, a gentle glow of sweat and exertion that gave him a softened exhausted look, which coupled with his heavy eyes and the creasemarks from the bedsheets on his cheek… well, he wasn’t about to test people’s appetites for speculation, he thought.

Malfoy was talking now, though Harry couldn’t quite hear him through the door, so he cracked it a little before he ran the tap.

“You haven’t passed out in there?” Malfoy’s voice sounded closer all of a sudden, like he was talking through the gap in the door. “I shan’t have to perform CPR, shall I? I don’t think I even know any CPR.”

“No, I’m surviving,” Harry reassured him, still clutching onto the edge of the sink. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying that you feel so dreadful because of the strain on your magical core. It’s the travel part, it takes an enormous amount of magical energy. You’re working against the laws of physics on a massive scale. It gets easier the longer you spend on the other side.”

“So weird,” Harry muttered to himself, then bent down to splash his face, patting the heat and sleep-puffiness away.

“Yeah, I don’t get it myself, really,” Malfoy said, sounding like he was getting into his stride. “My father was good on the logistics but I’m not sure that he considered the wider implications of—” and he was off, his voice a comforting background noise as Harry splashed around in the sink, and prodded helplessly at his hair for a bit, and brushed his teeth, and had a piss. All the while, Malfoy was talking about modal logic and planes of existence and core exhaustion as though Harry would possibly understand, or even be interested, but at least Malfoy was talking himself back into good humour. By the time Harry was looking fresher and less like he’d just rolled out of Malfoy’s bed, Malfoy was sufficiently cheered up enough to distract with talk of cheese as they padded down the corridor to the kitchens, and when Malfoy had shovelled the crisp dripping slices of sandwich onto two plates, hot and buttery and frilled at the edges with crisp lacy cheese, and Harry had located the relish and a jug of cider, even Malfoy was hungry enough to shut up and just eat.

Would love to read what everyone's working on, pls tag me. Also tagging a few people who i think are writing atm - @floydig @thehoneybeet @maesterchill @oknowkiss @shealwaysreads @skeptiquewrites @the-starryknight @stationintern @sweet-s0rr0w @wolfpants and anyone else, if you fancy it?

[tackytigerfic]

oh wow you are on your last scene for the Voldemort Wins AU long fic :o?

Hi Anon, thanks for the message, yes I'm writing the final (long) scene for that WIP. it may have taken two years but I did get there 😅. I wrote 17k each in November and December so made good inroads into the last section. Then I got covid and felt absolutely awful and had to take a week off, as the final scene is quite tricky in terms of the plot and my brain just wasn't up to it. It'll still be weeks before I finish but hope to start posting this spring. It's over 200k now and needs a good edit!

Here's a little snippet from a sex scene. Draco is undercover with the Death Eaters and has come back to visit Harry in secret.

“I can’t believe that ten minutes ago I was asleep,” Harry said, and bent so he could drop a kiss on Draco’s skin just where his thigh creased under the curve of his arse. His skin was smooth there and very pale, almost hairless. “How long do we have?” “I wish you wouldn’t ask that every single time,” Draco said tightly. Harry could see the side of his face, his closed eye, a pink flush rising on the back of his neck. “We never have much time, you know that. Just, hurry up.” “I want you to be safe,” Harry said. He felt slightly stung, a small irrational hurt. Draco was very often rude, but rarely cruel. “I have to be sure no one will notice that you’re gone. I couldn’t bear it, you know, if anything happened to you because we got careless.” “You’d bear it,” Draco said. “If you had to, you’d bear it.” “Draco.” Harry kissed his skin again, stroked all around the mess of lube, shiny in the moonlight. He tried for jokey, though his voice was too raw. “I don’t want to have to bear it. It’s a significant part of my mission, making sure that you come out of things alright by the end of it.” Draco lifted his face from the pillow so Harry could see his face in profile, the lovely strong nose, his bitten lower lip between his teeth. He was trembling again, just slightly. “You’re still wasting time,” was all he said.

[tackytigerfic]

blankets!

Hi, pal! I have a few of these but they're mostly wholesome cosy vibes. So I chose this one for you.

“I wanted more,” Draco said, and his hands scrabbled to cup Harry’s head against his breastbone. Harry was mouthing at his chest through his t-shirt, through cotton that was damp from his tongue and getting damper over the tight knot of Draco’s nipple, and Draco’s fingers tightened in Harry’s hair.

“What?” Harry said, distracted by the delicious pressure at his scalp, and the small panting breaths that were rocking Draco, and the way the bedlinen was tangled around them so that their legs were locked together and Harry could feel each curled-toe clench of Draco’s calf muscles.

“I said,” Draco said, kicking free of the blanket finally and rolling Harry onto his back, “I wanted more than one kiss.”

[tackytigerfic]

im very excited for the Wartime!AU. Its a trope that is not very common in the Drarry fandom - I noticed many other HP fics have quite a few prominent Voldemort wins AU.

Hello Anon, thanks so much for this ask. I'm really happy that you're excited, it still feels like a lovely shock to think that someone might be interested in anything I write. I don't believe I've read any Voldemort Wins AUs before—they tend to run long as far as I can see, and my reading habits run to shorter fics. Also, like you say, I don't think there are very many in Drarry, and I don't really read outside of the ship. And anyway, i can't read any at the moment because when I'm writing I try to avoid reading fics that deal with the same tropes. So I'm looking forward to diving into all the time travel/multiverse/wartime AUs I missed over the last two years! Writing an AU has meant that I needed to do quite a bit of world-building, plus because it's a multiverse fic and we meet Harry and Draco from another world, I've had to keep track of their timeline too. I am already dreading the editing process and wondering how I can possibly ask beta readers to dive into what might very well be an absolute shitshow of inconsistencies. But I'll worry about that when it's done! In the meantime, here's a little snippet of the first time we see Voldemort in this fic. We hear a lot about him, but we hardly ever meet him due to the circumstances of the fic. I'm really looking forward to writing the ending where (hopefully) he'll really come into his own.

CW for widescale attack on Muggles and mass deaths

“Well, that’s that then,” Percy said, and when he tried to raise his coffee to his mouth, his hand shook so that liquid sloshed over the rim of the cup. On the big screen at the top of the room, the Muggle news channel was playing out an endless scroll of horror.

“Enough,” Kingsley said, and he took the cup away from Percy, wiping the spill up with one of his sleeves. “You need sleep and food, in that order.” He looked around murderously at the rest of the Order, at every strained face in the room, as if daring anyone to argue.

Percy sighed, then very carefully, as though his body hurt, pushed his chair back and walked stiffly towards the door, Kingsley stalking alongside him, hand at Percy’s waist, robes swirling.

Harry stared back at the television channel, feeling unable to look away for long. They were still searching the rubble of the tube station for survivors, the newsreader said in her uninflected tone, but the death count was already almost double the previous record for a Tube disaster. Unimaginable, the newsreader said, but the trouble was that Harry could imagine it all too well, had travelled the Victoria line so many times, had run down the steps in Finsbury Park towards the platform, bumped shoulders with the crowds streaming onto the tube, held onto the blue metal poles as the train rattled on underground.

Now the Muggle PM was giving a speech, pale but composed, praising the emergency responses, lamenting the loss of life. A tragic accident.

“If only he knew,” Remus scoffed, then threw down the latest copy of the Prophet, smuggled out of wizarding London, already days old. On the front cover was the Muggle PM, looking slightly bemused, almost entirely unmoving, clearly believing he was posing for an ordinary camera, a sea of dark-suited aides out of focus behind him. Next to him stood Voldemort, looking satisfied, a thin smile curling broader and then receding again as Harry looked, an endless smug loop. He looked very different to how Harry remembered him. He looked ordinary, finally—not the same as he had at school, with the cloud of dark hair, the luminous eyes, the cool appraising stare. But he didn't look like he had when he first returned, either. He was no longer bald, the skin of his face no longer stretched tight over his skull. His eyes were a deep speculative brown, the edges crinkling slightly as he smiled. He looked tired, and very, very human.

“He’s done it then,” Ron said flatly. “He’s secured an alliance.”

[tackytigerfic]

Would love to see💧 for the wip asks! You do romance (and hot!) so, so well

💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen.

Hello lovely, and thank you. I appreciate that comment so much, as I worry a lot about hitting the right beats romance- and heat-wise! Here's a little snippet from a sex scene in my long multiverse Voldemort wins AU WIP. Harry and Draco were best friends fighting in the Order together, but seven years ago Draco left. Now he's back.

"I can’t concentrate when you do that,” Harry said. “And I don’t want to come until you’re in me.”

“We could have been doing this all along, that whole horrible year,” Draco said, voice thin, hand maintaining its careful rhythm. “All those months stuck here, our bedrooms just along the corridor from each other, no one bothering to keep an eye on us. Imagine all the ways we could have been fucking each other.”

“Draco,” Harry breathed. “Draco. Did you really think it was a horrible year?”

“Every part of it,” Draco said, “except you.”

“Oh,” Harry said, the sound escaping him like a sigh. “I didn’t know.” He stared down at between them, at their sprawling bodies, skin to skin, Draco’s hand working him over so eagerly, all of it so much heat, the easy pleasure of their moving together.

“How could you know? I could never have told you. It was a stupid unrequited crush.” Draco's breath caught as his own knuckles brushed against his straining cock. “Ah— and it was enough, being friends with you. Being near you. That time, that kiss… I wondered then if— But you didn’t do anything about it and I thought that we were just going to ignore it.”

“You were gone within the week, Draco,” Harry said. “You never gave me a chance to tell you—“

“To tell me what?”

[tackytigerfic]

For the word ask game, how about the word 'traitor'? 👀

Ooh thank you, anon - I have lots of these in my current WIP because Draco is an Order member and then defects. Some of them are a bit spoilery so here's a piece from early on in the fic. Draco has returned to the Order after seven years, but they obviously don't trust him so he's been kept in custody and subjected to Veritaserum and some invasive magical testing. CW for vomiting and cigarette smoking!

“May I come in?” Harry managed, and then regretted his politeness when Draco just sniffed and said, “I can’t exactly stop you, can I?” and turned and padded across the room, his footsteps silent in his soft white socks.

“I came to let you know that your wand will be out of processing by tomorrow,” Harry said to Draco’s back, watching the tensing of his shoulders, the tiny pause. “You can collect it after breakfast and let us know what you’d like to do.”

“And in the meantime I’m here overnight, totally unprotected and vulnerable,” Draco said stiffly. “At least last night I had a guard on the door.”

“If I had my way,” Harry said pleasantly, “you’d still have a guard on your door. But sadly even traitorous bastards get to benefit from the outcome of the justice system.”

“Oh, piss off if you just came here to bait me,” Draco said, voice thick. “I went through your due process, I jumped through all your little hoops, and I—” He held a hand up, swaying gently, face horrified, then he clapped a hand over his mouth and strode over to the little bathroom in the corner, where he was—efficiently and impressively quietly—sick into the sink.

Harry waited until Draco’s shoulders had finished heaving and he was washing his face under the cold tap, and Harry could be reasonably sure he wasn’t going to be sick again.

“Would you like a freshen up?” Harry asked him, expecting him to say no, but Draco just sighed into the towel as he dabbed his face dry and said, “Yes please,” mildly enough. Harry got his wand out self-consciously and performed the spell, trying not to catch Draco’s eye as he wrinkled his nose and blinked, the smell of spearmint and citrus sharpening the air.

Harry had never quite got the hang of courtesy spells—Draco had always been the one to cast this one, back when they were whiskey-sodden hungover idiots the morning after whatever night of long involved chatting and plotting they’d had, or the time they found an old pack of cigarettes stashed in the attic in Grimmauld and decided to sit out on the angled roof below the casement and try out smoking. Draco had coughed himself almost sick that time, though Harry had taken to it too easily, so much so that he stubbed out the cigarette and told himself he wouldn’t try it again. He didn’t trust anything that he liked that much that quickly.

Harry wondered if Draco remembered all of that stuff the way he did, if Draco thought about the things they had been to each other back then. If Draco had missed him.

[tackytigerfic]

Knowing that that wartime au exits and is being written is enough🥺💗

Dearest anon, i love you! I suspect this is in response to me being a bit glum recently (about my writing and in general i suppose) and thank you for being kind and cheering me up. If I may offer a small scene as thanks? In this fic, Harry and Draco find a magical device that is used for travelling the multiverse—so they can visit other worlds, basically. They are searching for Draco's parents, who have escaped into a different universe to get away from Voldemort, who's still alive and waging war against Harry and the Order. In this scene, Harry goes dimension-hopping for the first time. Contains lighthearted references to murder.

"It feels like, I don’t know, like your blood is singing. Does that make sense?”

Draco was sitting cross-legged on the big rug, and in the lamplight he looked stupidly young as he spoke, though the concerned creases around his eyes were new.

“Not a jot,” Harry said cheerfully. “Can you tell me anything about the actual process? That way I might be able to know what to expect, rather than wait for my blood to launch into a rousing chorus of ‘Beat Those Bludgers Back, Boys’.”

Draco smirked.

“It’s more like something you’ve heard once, and you can’t quite remember the tune, but you recognise it because it reminds you of how you used to feel… Stop laughing, Potter. Look, I don’t know why we’re even bothering with this. You work best when you can just do the bloody thing, so why don’t we stop talking and you can just…"

“Do the bloody thing?”

“Literally.” Draco brandished the time device at him, its sharp end gleaming.

“Fine,” Harry said. He wiped his hands on his jeans, palms prickling with a sharp nervous moisture. “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Draco looked a bit queasy, which wasn’t very reassuring. “But listen, just remember—you don’t really know what you’re going into here. I know we’ve seen my father’s memories of the place, but who knows what the situation will be once you arrive. Just… remember where you’re coming back to, okay?”

“This still isn’t helping.”

Draco blew out a frustrated breath, making the hair that fell into his eyes flutter and subside.

“I mean… once you get there, you may find yourself intrigued. Fascinated, even. Some of these timelines are very, very close to our own—well, you’ll see once you’re in there—"

“Ominous,” Harry muttered. “But there isn’t anything there that could stop me coming back, right?”

“Well, not unless someone kills you,” Draco said, helpfully, a gleam of incisor behind a small smile. “But you should be able to keep that from happening.”

“They can’t kill me if they can’t see me,” Harry offered, and felt a small warm feeling when the smile deepened a fraction.

“That’s the spirit. I must say, the cloak is a stroke of genius. But— Please, Potter. Remember, this is reconnaissance only. We have one goal here, and that’s to find my mum—my real mum—and work out how to get her back. You remember the spell?”

“Of course I bloody remember the spell,” Harry said mutinously. “Because, first of all, I came up with it. And second of all, you made me practice it at least forty times.”

“By all means, dash off half-cocked into an alternate dimension and use some wildly powerful tracking spell without ever having practiced,” Draco retorted, voice glacial, though his nose was wrinkled in the sort of concentrating look that meant he was probably trying not to laugh. He moved slightly uncertainly towards Harry and patted him, from shoulders down the swell of bicep and onto Harry’s forearms, while Harry tried not to tense under his touch.

“Okay, your magic feels fine,” Draco said. “The blood pact is still working, did you feel it?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Harry’s jaw felt tight. “I felt it. Now can I go?”

“Potter. If you don’t come back, you know that Sirius Black will personally, with his bare hands and probably his teeth, murder me? So remember what we talked about. No matter how familiar, or real, or right these other worlds feel— You have to come back, okay?”

“Malfoy.” Harry put on the same solemn voice that Draco was using. “Of course I'm coming back. I’m not going to just skip out on the people I love, and the war, and everyone who needs me—”

“—the fact that you’re even talking about people needing you as though it’s the most important—”

“—well, so what, it’s not a crime for me to care about this stuff—”

“—that’s not what I’m—”

“—well, what are you—”

Draco’s voice was slightly hysterical-sounding, and he had a horrid scrunched-up pinkness to his face.

“I just want you to know this world is worth coming back for, okay? No matter what happens. Not because it’s your duty to come back, or whatever your fucked up sense of responsibility is telling you. But because…” He swallowed, looking pale. “Well, for many reasons. But mainly because I am rather fond of being alive, and do not want to be horribly murdered by your godfathers if I have to tell them that you disappeared while conducting some very illegal time-travel on my behalf.”

“That,” Harry said, “is fair enough. I’m coming back, Malfoy. Okay? Like you say, this is just a scouting mission. In and out, quick and clean. I’ll be back soon.”

“Right,” Draco said firmly. “Well, good luck, then.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, and smiled at him, just a little. “See you in a bit.”

[tackytigerfic]

Never have I ever…. There was only one bed!!!!!! pls and thank youuuuu, only if it sparks joy etc etc etc!! 😘

hello, my lovely! thank you so much for the ask.

According to my AO3 tag search, I have written this twice! Once in Dreaming Skies which was co-written by @sweet-s0rr0w (which we are both really fond of, it's a Dron getting together fic set on a dragon reserve in Romania and we got to write so much lovely world-building and magical theory stuff and there's a baby dragon and Draco wears a funny hat lmao)

Apparently I also wrote this in If It Takes All Night but I'm not sure that it works for this trope as such, as they're already having to share a bed because they've been cursed to have to touch each other at all times. So the prospect of any other beds is moot anyway?!

Oh and in Power Lines, before they get together they end up sharing one-bedroom motel rooms (it's an American road trip fic) because Draco is a poor student and is too proud to let Harry pay for separate rooms—how convenient.

I was going to talk about how I'd write this trope now but then remembered I actually have it in my current WIP, a Voldemort-lives wartime AU. They have to move into Harry's room because there isn't space for people to have their own rooms once Malfoy and Potter arrive from another universe. Here's a snip of them in their bed — this is when they're still in the enemy part of their relationship lol. CW for canon-typical violent thoughts ie Harry wanting to punch Draco. They're arguing about the other universe's Malfoy here as Draco thinks Harry has a crush on him.

The bed was soft under Harry’s knees when he landed, fury lending him speed, and he ignored Draco’s shocked inhale and the affronted wriggle of his warm body away from Harry where he leant over him.

“Shut up,” Harry said, and Draco pulled even further back, shoulders pressing into the headboard of the bed. “Shut up about all of it. You haven’t a clue how I feel. He’s my friend, actually, though it makes sense that you wouldn’t get that. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Such good friends that you’re sneaking around behind his boyfriend’s back,” Draco said, and Harry hated the sneering roll of his mouth, and the plump smooth curve of his unblemished cheek, and the warm clean smell of his hair—every part so violently him.

“At least I talk to him. To both of them," Harry said, leaning heavier on the duvet. Draco’s legs splayed awkwardly where he was trying to avoid Harry's weight. “No one else in this whole fucking place is trying to work with them. I’m the only one who sees how much they could help us.”

“Every single time your magic sparks off Potter's, you could be eroding the edges of the world,” Malfoy said. “Though there’ll be no Voldemort if the very fabric of our universe is destroyed, I suppose. One point for Team Reckless.”

Harry hadn’t hit anyone in years, probably not since Draco himself, in school, but he wanted to so badly that he could feel the hopeful tingle of it through his palm, out into the fingertips and collecting in his balled fist. Interrogate the feeling, Bill would say if he were here. Let yourself feel what you need to feel. Harry suspected “violent desire to punch Draco Malfoy right in his smug mouth” was not quite what Bill had in mind, though you never knew with Bill.

“Do you know what it’s like?” Harry said, pressing his hands flat against his own thighs, bearing down into the shifting muscle, grounding himself above Draco’s restless body. “Being me, I mean. Do you know what it’s like?”

“I don’t even know how to answer that,” Draco said. His colour was high in the spill of moonlight, throat swallowing convulsively. “Of course I don’t.”

“Just imagine,” Harry said quietly. From next door came the low sound of laughter. Malfoy had made it to bed, then. “Imagine being in pain all the time, horrible sick-making pain from all the Occlumency. And all the fighting. Years of it, Draco, years and years.” Under his palms he could feel the tremble of exhaustion in the stretch of his leg muscles. He straightened, stretched, then lifted himself up and off Draco so he could flop down onto the bed. The pillow was cool and firm under his hot cheek, and he closed his eyes. After a moment he felt the bed shift as Draco wriggled back down to lying too. The pillow under Harry’s head dipped with the added weight of Draco’s head, and he kept his eyes closed.

[tackytigerfic]

Unfinished Friday

Thank you to the lovely people who have tagged me recently in WIP snip posts - pls expect reblogs soon, I am sort of off Tumblr atm and have a lot to catch up on but I am so grateful to be tagged and to get to read all your fucking phenomenal writing. Writing loads atm. Long wartime AU/ multiverse fic is progressing well. Here is a snip from it. Seven years after the war began, Draco has gone undercover with the Death Eaters to try to get close to Voldemort. Draco visits the Order HQ when he can. Draco and Harry are best friends and have been hooking up in secret. They're also in love but haven't really talked about it.

Downstairs in the Order meeting, Draco had been chilly and controlled—a gloved fist, a bridled Abraxan. He had barely looked at Harry the whole way through the meeting, but after the reports were all in, he had stood up in front of everyone and held a hand out to Harry across the table, and Harry had leaned right over to him and taken it. It didn’t seem to matter anymore who knew, or what they thought. There was no need for the smallness of subtleties in the face of something so horribly huge as Draco having to leave, again and again and again.

Together they made for the stairs, bumping shoulders as they went out the big double doors, Harry’s skin overheated where Draco’s hand made a bracelet round his wrist, not caring who was looking. They ignored the wolf whistle that followed them (Malfoy, no doubt, the smug prick), racing together up the steps two at a time until they reached their corridor and then finally Draco was a warm and moving thing under Harry’s demanding hands.

And he was different here in the shifting shadows of their old shared room, both of them jammed into Harry’s single bed, the moon a sick yellowed disc through the window. He looked glossy and well-fed, flesh solid over his ribs when Harry spanned them greedily with both hands, skin soft and rich-smelling, his hair swooping over one eye with the sheen of a starling's wing. His clothes, discarded on the floor, were too formal, too many pinnings and fastenings, too stiff with ornamentation and embellishments. He looked like what he was, Harry supposed; Lord Malfoy, the Viscount.

As Harry tried to undo him, he wondered for a moment how easily Draco slipped back beneath the trappings, but then he felt the frantic tap of Draco’s pulse under his fingertips and the familiar warmth of his breath as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth, carelessly, like he couldn’t wait any longer, and Harry knew he had him back.

“How long have you got?” Harry asked, breathless already, fingers slipping wet with lube over Draco’s skin, and Draco kissed him almost angrily.

“Long enough,” he said. “We have time. God, you’re all I can think about.”

If you've read this far then please consider sharing your own WIP snip - I would love to read it. And artists/reccers/other creators too, if you have a WIP you're working on!

[tackytigerfic]

For the word excerpt ask game: shudder (or tremble or shake or similar). If none of those....earrings, necklace, some kind of jewelry?

Hello lovely! I had so many examples of these, people are always shivering or shaking in my fics, obviously! Some are a bit spoilery so I chose this one, which is where Harry and Ron have an argument after one of Ron's brothers is killed, and Ron comes to Harry's room in the middle of the night.

Harry wasn’t asleep, of course; the shivers of earlier had worsened and his body felt clumsy, rattled by feverish shakes. Draco hadn’t said anything at all, just bundled his own duvet on top of Harry’s and then climbed into the narrow bed beside him and curled around him. He wasn’t asleep either.

Harry got a fright when the door opened, but then he saw Ron silhouetted against the dim light from the hall, his tall shape unchanged down through the years since school. Draco slid quietly from the bed and stood there for a moment, and Harry wondered if he was thinking about explaining why he was in the same bed as Harry, but after a short hesitation he just slipped out the door past Ron, giving him a quick squeeze on the shoulder as he went. Ron didn’t even spare him a curious look, just crossed the room and tiredly burrowed under the covers next to Harry, in the warm space where Draco had been. He must have been up for a while, because his bare feet were freezing, and he was shivering too.

“Did you sleep at all?” Harry asked, and Ron shook his head, curled closer in the bed so their legs tangled.

“Took Rosie for a bit. Couldn’t sleep anyway, so at least ‘Mione gets a rest.” Ron’s voice was scratchy and low and wounded. “They’re both asleep now.”

“You need to rest,” Harry muttered. “Ron, you need—”

He stopped, unsure of what he wanted to say. You need to be free of me, maybe. You need to be safe. But Ron knew what he meant, probably, because he snorted, and poked Harry gently in the stomach. In the moonlight leaking through the big window, Ron’s skin was leached of colour, a shade of himself. His eyes were shut.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” Ron said roughly. “You know I was just being stupid? I would never—” He swallowed hard. “Everything we’ve ever done, we’ve done it together. I chose it, over and over. I still choose it. I choose you. You’ve been my best friend for over half my life, and you’re as good as a brother to me, and I was a bastard to say those things to you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said, with a relief so desperate it made his voice sound choked and thin. “Please don’t say sorry.” For the first time all evening, Harry was starting to warm up, with Ron’s big familiar body next to him.