#this ask surprised me because i don’t even .. draw draco

[cotttntail]

hiiii please don’t draw draco with long hair like 90% of other artists do, thank you! <3

i call this the ' i will do as I please ' special

[little-diable]

Sinful mouth – Draco Malfoy (smut)

A small drabble for my Draco lovies. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, reader lost a bet and has to pay the price

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), slight dubcon (but full consent), dom!Draco, degrading, choking

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (1k words)

“Kneel.” His voice filled her bedroom, bright eyes starting her down as his smirk began to widen. 

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” She knew she had no way out, forced to follow his command - all because of some stupid bet she has lost. “Why can’t you be normal and ask me to do some other shit for you?”

“There’s that fire you always show me. Good, I was wondering how long it’d take for you to snap. Now it’ll make it even more fun to break you.” She watched him lean back against her dresser, arms crossed in front of his shirt-clad chest. (Y/n) hated the way her body reacted to Draco, how her thighs clenched whenever she heard his voice. “I won’t say it again, (y/n). Kneel.”

“And now?” She had dropped to her knees in an instant, staring up at him as she tried not to pay the way her carpet was already rubbing against her skin any attention. “I don’t have a lot of time, so if you can get this over with.”

He was in front of her within seconds, hand clamped around her throat to draw a shaky and surprised gasp from (y/n). Wide eyes met piercing ones, hers full of confusion, his filled with darkness. A darkness so rich, (y/n) feared it'd swallow her wholly and steal her light. 

“It’s your own fucking fault for being this stupid, you had to try and go against me, and you failed. Now be a good girl and pay the fucking price, sweetheart.” Draco’s smile began to widen as he watched her pupils dilate, a sight that left his cock twitching, growing harder in the confines of his trousers. Tonight he’d force his cock down her throat, just like she had always hoped he would, secrets shared with close friends, secrets that had found their way to him years ago. “Keep up this bratty act and see what will happen. We both know you’ve wanted this for years, be happy I’m granting you this wish.” 

“What are you talking about?” She could only whisper the words, not daring to use more strength as Draco tightened the grip on her throat. His eyes burned through her, leaving holes in her trembling body, holes that were filled with lust the second a raspy chuckle left him. 

“You didn’t think you could hide that crush of yours from me, could you? I’ve always known this little act of yours was nothing but lies, trying to distract me from your obsession with me. Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby.” Embarrassment tugged on her features, shooting heat through her body as she tried to avert her gaze – without any luck. Draco’s ringed fingers kept holding her in place, staring down at (y/n) with a satisfied grin glued to his lips. 

“Now, be a good girl and open that mouth for me.” He let go of her to rise back to his feet. Draco would never do this if he weren’t sure of her longings, he’d never pressure her into doing something this intimate if she’d ask him to stop – which she didn’t. All (y/n) did was run her tongue along her lower lip before she parted her lips, tongue exposed to his piercing eyes. 

Her eyes followed the movements of his fingers, how they freed his cock within seconds. Draco had done this numerous times, reach for his cock to fuck his hand to the thought of (y/n), speaking to her as if she was kneeling in front of him, ready to swallow his cock – just like she was now. He stepped back towards her, pushing the pre-cum-bearded tip past her lips, unable to swallow his groan at the warm feeling. 

Eagerly she closed her lips around him, she hallowed her cheeks and began to bob her head, wanting to draw the most sinful sounds out of the tall man. Draco held onto (y/n) with his ringed fingers combing through her hair, keeping an almost possessive grasp on her. She worked carefully, pumping the parts she couldn’t reach just yet, having to force herself to calm down. It took her a few seconds to relax her throat, to take him deeper without panicking, but his sounds were worth the struggle, telling her how much he loved being touched by her.

She tried to focus on Draco, on the taste of him, on the feeling of him resting on her tongue, but her mind kept bringing up his words, reminding her that he was all too aware of her crush on him, a crush she had been fostering for years, ever since meeting him at Hogwarts. But even though she couldn’t help but be embarrassed, (y/n) also began to realize that he must share her feelings, otherwise he wouldn’t have pushed her to do this.

“I’ll never allow you to stop doing that, your mouth’s a sin in itself.” Draco’s raspy words left her chuckling, urging her on to move even faster, set on pushing him over the edge. His hips jerked, forcing his cock deeper down her throat to leave (y/n) choking on her gasps. “Such a desperate slut, you’d rather choke than stop sucking my cock, wouldn’t you?”

The hum leaving (y/n) drew a gritty laugh out of Draco, his head rolled back, exposing his throat to (y/n)’s wandering gaze. She could tell that he was close, twitching in her mouth as he tried to hold back, tried to stop himself from cumming right there and then. Her grip on his cock grew tighter, adding more speed to her movements as he once again forced himself down her throat. 

“I want you to swallow every drop, show me how greedy you are for me.” Their eyes met as he spoke the words, seconds before he came down her throat. (Y/n) watched him cum undone, feeling him paint her mouth white with his cum. She swallowed, only pulled away as he loosened his grip on her hair, waiting for (y/n) to expose her now clean tongue to his eyes. 

“The next time you lose a bet, I’ll fuck you, that much I can promise, sweetheart.”

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (16)

Happy release day Sunday everyone! I hope you like this one, it is SO cute :)

please comment to be added to the tag list, enjoy!

-----------

Almost two weeks later, it was Friday night and the slytherin house was getting ready for another quidditch match, this time against Ravenclaw.

Halloween is next week and everyone has been buzzing about the party, you had even convinced Mattheo it was worth going to.

You walk to his dorm and open the door only to find it empty. You go down to the common room and see Pansy flirting with Draco on the couch…it never ends.

“Hey have you guys seen Mattheo?” You ask, looking between them.

“I think he was walking outside earlier?” Draco mentions trying to scoot away from Pansy a bit.

While he loved the attention and adoration, Pansy overdid it and always had which put him off.

“Ok” you smile, “Pansy, I heard a first year mention some gossip upstairs if you’re interested”

“Oh really? I’ll go find out.” She instantly takes off.

Draco mouths ‘thank you’ before you blow a kiss and walk out towards the garden, looking for Mattheo.

To no surprise, you find him sitting on that very same bench the two of you had grown to spending a lot of time on. He was drawing in his notebook, listening to music.

You walk up behind him and grab his headphones off his head, putting them over your ears. An older song plays, “what’s this?” 

“The smiths” he mentions casually.

You squint your eyes at him, “you never fail to surprise me.” 

He grabs the headphones back and sets them on the ground next to him, “Hi my love”

“Hi.” You reply as you lean your head on his shoulder and he takes your hand in his.

“How was your day?” Mattheo asks, stroking his thumb along your hand.

“Sooo boring. You?” You lift your head off his shoulder to look at him.

“I thought about you the whole time.” He smirks.

“Quit it.” You giggle, “you’re just trying to get in my pants.”

The two of you had slept together….a lot so far. There was a lot of sexual tension to get out from all of these years at Hogwarts.

“So…there’s a quidditch match tomorrow.” You bring up.

“Yes, and?” He looks you in the eyes.

“Will you go with me?” You ask.

Mattheo clenches his jaw, “no. I can’t.”

You furrow your eyebrows and turn towards him, “what? Why not?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He shuts you down and lets go of your hand, looking out to the garden.

“Mattheo, you can’t just shut me out.” Your frustration grows. You hadn’t pushed him to talk about why he doesn’t play anymore but you wanted to know.

He looks at you, “you wouldn’t get it.”

“Right, like I don’t have things that are hard to talk about.” You start. You and Mattheo still butted heads occasionally, but it was different now.

“That’s not what I meant.” He says coldly as he avoids eye contact.

You grab his chin and make him look you in your eyes, “I’m not leaving until you tell me…”

Mattheo has that dead look in his eyes when you add, “please? For me?” 

He rolls his eyes but decides to tell you, “remember when I disappeared for a bit during 5th year?”

You nod your head, listening.

“I was just named captain when I had to go home. You know who my parents are and that was when Azkaban was broken into and-” he starts rambling.

You take his hand and he realizes he’s rambling. He pauses for a second before continuing, “When I came back, it was halfway through the season and Adrian Pucey replaced me as captain. I tried to focus and earn my way back but my head wasn’t there and I really fucked up. Adrian told me that I was being benched and…I started this fight with him.”

“A fight? Wait…isn’t that when he was in the hospital all winter?”

“He didn’t play for the rest of the season because of it.” He adds. Mattheo knew how to throw punches and he also knew some pretty bad curses to throw at people. “I was kicked off the team and told to never come back.”

He had never been this open with you and you had a feeling that he’s never really told anyone this story before.

“You told people you had gotten bored and quit…” you process.

“Draco, Blaise, and Theo know obviously but nobody else does. They swore to me they threatened the rest of the team to keep quiet.”

“I had no idea…” you trail off. You felt really shitty now, “baby I’m so sorry”

Mattheo looks up to you with his doe eyes before he smiles lightly, “say that again”

“Say what again?” You ask, unaware.

“What did you call me?” He smirks.

“Oh…baby? You like me calling you baby?” You tease as you run your fingers through his hair.

“You’re just so sexy” he says as he wraps you in his arms. You laugh as he buries his head in your chest.

“Matty, I think it’d be good for you to go tomorrow.” You suggest quietly.

He pulls himself off of you, “no fucking way”

“I know it’s a sore subject but I also know that you still love it…and I would be there the whole time with you.” You add.

“No. I can’t.” He rolls his eyes and looks away.

“Matty-” you try to grab his hand before he stands up.

“Just drop it ok?” He looks at you with a clenched jaw.

“Fine.” You get quiet and watch him as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You stand up and walk up behind him, setting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist while on your tiptoes.

He turns around in your grasp and returns your hug, “I love you. Please don’t ever leave me.”

“Mattheo, where is this coming from?” You back away, concerned.

“Everything I’ve ever loved has left. Everything. And I know I don’t deserve you.”

Nobody ever got to see this side of Mattheo and clearly you brought it out of him with the talk about the quidditch game.

“I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. Just forget I asked about it, ok? I’m not upset at all” You reply, grazing your hand over his cheek.

“I didn’t-”

“I know what you were thinking. It’s not a big deal, seriously.”

You smile lightly before you back away, “I'm gonna head back and change before dinner. I’ll see you there, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He responds holding your hand as you walk away, finally letting go when you’re out of arm's reach.

You go back to your dorm and change before Pansy comes in and walks down to the great hall with you. 

You all sit at the table, eating when the topic of the match comes up. Draco and Blaise continue to talk about how well practices have been going and how they planned to dig Ravenclaw’s grave. Typically Theo participated in these discussions too but he had been skipping dinner to avoid you and Mattheo.

“Mattheo, we switched Harper to chaser like you suggested. I think she’s settling in nicely.” Draco pipes up.

His eyes gaze over towards you for a split second but he doesn’t let his persona falter.

“Good. I’m sure she’ll do fine.” He responds quickly, trying to not drag on the subject.

You watched how his eyes found their way down to his plate. How he messed with his food instead of eating it. How his jaw clenched just slightly, just enough for you to notice but nobody else.

The more you got to know him, the more you were so impressed by him. Not even you got to see his emotional side often which meant he held it all in. All to himself. You were amazed.

You watched him eat his food, trying to ignore the talk around him. You noticed his long eyelashes as he blinked and the scar on his eyebrow. 

You felt mesmerized by him. You felt…in love with him. You were in love with Mattheo Riddle. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest.

“You ok?” You snap back to reality hearing Draco ask you.

You gather yourself before responding, “I’m fine”. Your gaze finds its way back to Mattheo, him now looking at you.

You were so screwed.

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @princessluvssleep @hatakemrs @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @swamp-box @iamdnb

[getawayfox]

2023 in review

Thank you for the tag, lovely @wolfpants ! I wasn’t going to do this because to be honest I don’t really like looking back in the fear that my past work will make me cringe. But you know what. I did look back and all I see is ✨progress✨ and that’s a bloody good feeling.

So I put together some stats and surprised myself with those as well, because the whole year I felt like I was struggling with motivation and thought that my engagement with fandom was lacking but actually, these stats show a different story. So here’s what I did:

✨ART

I made 31(!) art pieces in 2023. Out of these, 8 were for fests and 6 inspired by fic (Nightcall and Terrible People by wolf). I drew Drarry together 14 times, Draco 7 times, Harry 5 times, Ron twice, Teddy once and Fleur/Ginny once. My absolute favorite piece of art is (as usual) the very last one I made: fortune teller Draco for my fic “on the cards” (and I am cheekily counting it, even though I posted on Jan 1st, because I did draw it at the end of last year).

✨WRITING

I’m decidedly *not* a writer, so it feels a bit funny to even mention this, but here it goes: I wrote 3140 words, all of them in the form of drabbles: 14 for hd candyhearts fest (more on this later in a separate post) and 8 microfics, my fave out of those being “Changes”.

✨REC LISTS

I made 6 reclists, 4 of them in a response to lovely asks: drarry get-together, favorite tropes, outsider POV + bonus, art recs and 2023 favorites. I also made 51 individual Quick Quotes Recs posts (masterlist here).

✨MODDING

I was a co-mod in 3 amazing fests. I will take the oportunity to link their masterlists because the works are just incredible: dronarry masterlist, bodice ripper masterlist, unleashed masterlist.

All in all, a busy year. I love seeing these posts from everyone; reading everyone’s lovely fics, seeing gorgeous art, and just basking in the chance of being in this wonderful community. I hope 2024 will be just like that too! I wish everyone a year full of creative spark!✨

PS: I think that everyone has already done this but if you haven’t and want to, consider this your no pressure tag! (I’m looking at you @crazybutgood 😉)

[sodamnradd]

Near midnight Draco yanks his front door open, wand in hand, suspicion etched all over his face.

Hermione stands on the top step, a rather sorry cupcake melting in her hand. “You didn’t come.”

She’s zipped into a little black dress with crisscross straps all along the sides and a swooping neckline he spends a breath too long gawking at.

“You never said it was mandatory.”

She wobbles on the edge of her heel, but when Draco reaches for her, she pulls back, scowling.

“Happy birthday.” She hands him the sorry cupcake.

He stares at the sticky mushy thing and notices a goopy swirl that might be a blazing comet on a bed of Slytherin green. “What’s that?”

“A Snitch. They ate the rest at the surprise party you didn’t show up to.”

His heart sinks. “I didn’t know.”

“Rather the point of a surprise party.”

“Who was there?”

He can’t imagine anyone showing up except for maybe Potter because she’s got some kind of magnetic pull over him. Draco suspects he’s suffering from a similar syndrome. Because, say, if Granger had insisted he show up tonight, Draco would have. He almost asks why she didn’t demand it of him.

“Everyone. My friends. Yours.”

“You spoke to my friends?” he asks, jarred.

“They were amused when we thought you were late. Then they all seemed sorry for me. Thought I was delusional for misinterpreting our relationship.”

“…our… relationship…” It’s not what she means. Of course, it isn’t.

‘Our’ pangs in his brain until it becomes rhythmic. A marching band beat of our, our, our.

His eyes wander. Her outfits are never so short, though they ought to be because Granger’s thighs are magnificent. He envisions dragging icing over them and running his tongue—

His face flames. “I’m sorry, Granger. I just wanted to spend my birthday alone.”

“Why? You love to be pampered.”

True. He grins. “Were you going to pamper me?”

A curl falls over her face as she lowers her chin, and he feels the burning need to tuck it behind her ear. But as the rest tumble forward, he realises she’s hiding. His chest tightens. He feels awful for making her feel small. She’s a mammoth in his mind. All five foot two of her. All the time.

“I don’t know why I came. See you on Monday.”

He feels like an arse. A tongue-tied, idiot arse who doesn’t know what to say to her and instead blurts out: “I didn’t want to spend my birthday watching every bloke at your party try to take you home. It’s bad enough at work. But when there’s liquor and strappy dresses and your thighs… I just needed a day off.”

“A day off from me.”

“From the side-effects of spending time with you.”

“Side-effects? Like I’m some sort of disease?”

“Probably!”

“Wow, Draco.” She glowers. “Just wow.”

“Nobody makes me feel this way. My palms are always sweaty. My stomach is in knots. I can’t speak properly around you half the time. It takes ages to focus because I’ll spot a lipstick stain on your stupid S.P.E.W mug and my mind launches into space. Like this fucking comet.”

“It’s a Snitch.” She steps forward, cat-like. Close enough to smell the perfume on her neck. His trousers are suddenly too tight. And that’s before she swirls her finger through the comet-Snitch icing and draws it to her mouth. “Butterscotch.”

He gulps. His favourite.

She drags her finger through it again, offering it to him. “Want some?”

His lips part and holy shit Hermione’s finger is in his mouth and he’s seconds away from coming in his fucking pants.

He tears back.

She steps forward.

“Granger,” he snipes like a spooked animal.

“Don’t be rude, Draco. I baked them just for you.”

Oh Gods.

She dunks her finger into the cupcake again. “Just a little more.”

“Stop.”

“Be that way.” She drags her finger between her lips and makes a moaning noise that joins ‘our’ in sounds he’ll never get out of his head.

“Ask me.” She’s looking up at him with her career confidence. Mouth wet.

He shakes his head, dazed. “What?”

“You said you didn’t want to see other blokes trying to take me home. Well, here I am at your doorstep and you haven’t even asked if I’d like to come inside.”

“Would you like to come inside?” he manages roughly, wondering if he’s hallucinating.

Hermione snatches the smeared cupcake from his hand and waves at the door. “It’s still your birthday for seven minutes. Think we can make them count?”

Oh, they make them count.

(768 words, prompt: you didn't come)

[wellpresseddaisy]

That Moment of Reckoning pt 1

Where My Soul Revive is the end of a new AU series, That Moment of Reckoning is the beginning. Because I am incapable of not starting yet another project and also have wanted to do a Scarlet Pimpernel (the musical) themed series for a Very Long Time. Series is probably going to be called Into the Fire because I am predictable and that song is a banger.

The first part was shared as a What If? snippet a few months ago and has been brewing in my brain since.

The title is a line from The Riddle, a truly wonderful song about betrayal and making your way through a dangerous and uncertain world.

He’d never expected to see Severus on his knees in the drawing room. Imagined in some of his more perverted moments (described to Narcissa in the dark of her boudoir, while on his own knees before her) but his imaginings had included quite a bit less weeping.

And certainly not that amount of…mucus.

The fevered excretions of his brain had very much not included himself kneeling with Severus, desperately trying to calm the younger man. At least he’d stopped prostrating himself on the floor. That sort of thing was all well and good in the boudoir, but thoroughly unseemly in the drawing room in the middle of the afternoon. Not that anyone could tell it was even afternoon with the gale outside, beating snow against the windows with every rattling breath. Was there any time in the year so wretched as late January?

“Severus, Severus please tell me what is the matter.” He cradled the back of Severus’ head and rocked as he would with Draco.

Severus wept in response. “I can’t…I can’t,” he gasped.

“You most certainly will, my lad,” he injected what he hoped was just enough menace into his tone. “Or you shall dearly regret it.”

It had always worked on a young, recalcitrant Severus. Perhaps he still held some authority? Severus shuddered in his arms, took several deep, hitching breaths, and finally looked up at him.

“You’ll hate me.”

Uttered in such a hoarse, wrecked voice, it tore at Lucius’ heart.

“I don’t care what you’ve done, my lad. I’ll never have it in me to hate you.”

Severus coughed on a sob. “You should.”

“Just tell me. We’ll fix it.” He hoped.

“I betrayed everything.”

Lucius barely heard the admission.

“Severus, what—”

“He told me he would kill her, her child. I…I went to Dumbledore and warned him. I’ve been spying for him since late August.”

The words tumbled out, as if Severus had been desperate to tell someone. Lucius gaped for a full minute before remembering that Malfoys never gaped.

“Are you telling me,” he began slowly, marshalling his thoughts. “That the Dark Lord told you he would kill Lily Potter. Told you to your face?”

“The child…there’s a prophecy,” Severus whispered.

“Everyone knows she is your one weakness, Severus. Everyone. That includes him. She still lives because the rest of us would also like to live.”

“I don’t…Lucius, I don’t understand.”

“We all know that if any of our crowd hurt one hair on her head we would all be dead at your hand. You’re the potions expert. Avery reckons you could do it so naturally we’d all look like we had dicky hearts.”

“What?” Severus asked faintly.

“It isn’t as if you were ever subtle about her. Now, this is a bit above my line of work.”

Severus pulled back at that, hurt and fear warring in his expressive eyes.

“No, you silly baggage. We’re going to take this to Narcissa. You know she’s the brains of this outfit. Honestly, if you keep on this way you really are going to get the smack you deserve, keeping this from us.” Lucius kept up a constant scold as he hauled Severus up and chivvied him from the room.

He did not miss the surprised shudder from Severus at his threat. Regrettably, experimentation would have to wait. Severus trailed after him, all miserable sniffling and hitched breaths, as he strode up the stairs to Narcissa’s sitting room. Merlin but he missed the coziness of the Dower House at times. Cissa’s rooms were up only one flight there, not two, and were also directly off the landing. But one couldn’t avoid moving into the ancestral pile forever, not without Society talking about it. At least they’d taken the time to renovate and remove a good bit of the Dark Tat Father collected. He considered a stop in the nearest w.c. so Severus could rinse his face, but decided that it would be better for him to confess himself to Narcissa immediately.

Confess himself.

Did they ever truly leave behind the patterns from the past? He’d been thinking about patterns lately as he’d found himself slipping, more and more in recent days, into the prefect he’d been at school. Those old patterns made for an easy path with some, like the men who’d once been in his charge. Without this war…no use in dwelling on that, really. There was a war and he’d chosen a side—or had one chosen for him—a long time ago now. Another pattern there, letting his father choose for him. He wouldn’t do that with Draco. He knew all too well how dangerous that path could be. Imagine if he’d been bonded with Bellatrix? That barely bore consideration. No, he would let Draco choose his own path, even if he wished to do something ridiculous, like topiary performance art.

Could he let Severus loose on his own chosen path? Could Cissa? The mere idea of Severus spying left his blood running cold. He and Cissa rather doted on him, as if he was their first child. From a certain point of view, he was their first. Lucius shuddered to think what Severus would say about being called ‘our boy’ or ‘our lad’ in such sentimental tones. It would very likely end with Severus pitching a pot plant at his head.

He knew better than to throw anything more than a sulk Narcissa’s way.

He felt a bit as if he’d just caught Severus biting someone, yet again, and was dragging him off to Cissa’s judgment after a thundering scold as they went down the corridor to her sitting room. Not that Severus had ever actually cried over a scold as a child. No, it took something stronger to break Severus’ iron grip on his emotions. What he must have gone through to break down like that, to still feel so fragile?

“Narcissa, have you a moment?” he asked, tapping at her door. “Severus has something with which he requires assistance.”

“Of course, my darlings!” Narcissa spoke brightly as her door swung open.

It frightened him, some days, how weak she remained so long after Draco’s birth. She’d had a better day, though, and felt strong enough to be up. He didn’t like to think how her better days came so much more frequently since father’s funeral. His pulse quickened as it always did in her presence, even when she wore a high-necked flannel wrapper against the chill of the day. She still looked pale to him, though her cheeks now held a faint but healthy pink. She reclined on a low divan and Lucius took a moment to admire the way the lamplight played off her hair before he made a long arm and hauled Severus forward.

“You can tell Cissa what you told me,” he ordered, though not too sternly. Severus had been through so much already.

Severus stood for a moment, seemingly poised to flee, and then moved shakily to the divan. He sank down on his knees beside it, burying his face in the cushions, and shivered miserably. Lucius crossed the room and took one of the easy chairs. This, he thought, needed to be between Cissa and Severus.

“I…I betrayed everything…for…for Lily.” The confession came slowly, haltingly.

“What happened, dear heart?” Narcissa stroked a careful hand over his hair.

“There was a prophecy. I heard the first few lines before I was discovered.” Severus coughed, shuddered, and seemed to pull himself together though he never raised his eyes from the cushions. “I brought it to him and…last August he told me that he believed it pointed to…to her child. That he would eradicate the whole family. My boon was that she would left alive for me…if possible. I…I went to the headmaster and…and bartered my service as a spy for their protection. I betrayed all for Lily.” His voice broke at the last and Narcissa ran a gentle hand over his hair.

“And you’ve carried that for months,” she said.

“I couldn’t lie any more. Not to you. Never to you.”

“I know, my darling, I know,” Narcissa soothed.  “He really told you he’d kill Lily Potter?”

“Lucius asked that too. Yes, he did.”

“It’s such an…odd choice for him to make, dear heart. Everyone knows that she has always been your one exception. I have no idea why he would tell you his plan. It makes me wonder how…well, how sane he is.”

“You think…I don’t understand,” Severus sighed.

“Malfoys always look out for their own best interests, Severus, and that includes yours. Lucius and I have had some…concerns lately, and that is all I shall say on that for the moment. The important thing now is to hear what you overheard of the prophecy, please.” She may have said please, but Lucius and Severus recognized it for an order.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies…that’s all I heard of it.”

Narcissa sat quietly for a moment, gently stroking Severus’ hair. Lucius admired the picture they made, wreathed in the sitting room’s rosy light. Severus might never be considered pretty, but he certainly had striking features, especially when he was well-rested and had eaten properly. Lucius noted the signs of neglect piling up again—the dull hair, sallow skin, and lost weight all so apparent—and wished Severus would allow them to care for him as they so wanted. What he would give to go back a few years, to shield Severus from the poison dripped into his ears by so many. A pity time turners had such narrow scope. Several people could use a good kick down the stairs.

“I would like to know,” Narcissa began. “Who hears ‘approaches’ and thinks of an unborn baby?”

“That’s what I thought!” Severus finally looked up, vindicated. “It doesn’t make sense! And it could be b-o-r-n-e and not b-o-r-n. And what calendar is it using? I got crucioed for asking that.” The last admission came sulkily.

“I think, Severus, that the time has come for us to form our own front in this…long engagement,” Narcissa said. “First, though, you are going to have something light to eat and a bath. Then you are going to sleep until you no longer look so exhausted. You did well on coming to us. Lucius and I will take this on.”

“But I can help!” Severus protested. “I didn’t tell you so I would be shunted off to the side.”

Lucius hid a smile at that. Sometimes he wondered if Severus would have been better off sorted to a different House. Hufflepuff, perhaps, given that damned tenacious loyalty of his. He’d give his all, and do it well, even as he swayed on his feet from exhaustion. Blessedly, Narcissa always had a knack for managing him.

“You will in the future. Right now you can help most by sleeping and eating while Lucius and I handle the family part of this. We’ll make everything come out right, darling, but there are a few pieces that must be handled delicately. Grandfather will help, I believe, but I must go see him.”

Severus, disgruntled, allowed himself to be packed off to his usual room. Lucius assisted Narcissa in rising from her divan and gave her his arm for the long walk to her dressing room.

“What exactly has Arcturus Black to do with all this?” Lucius asked.

“Where James Potter dwells so to does Sirius Black.” Narcissa leaned against him, a weakness she would never show to any other. “James is also kin to the main Black line. Grandfather would sooner eat his own cane than allow harm to come to his heir or…not to put too fine a point on it, but James Potter may well have sired the next heir after Sirius.”

Lucius took a moment to appreciate that she would trust him with that.

“But our Draco?”

“Unfortunately, our marriage put him out of  eligibility. Malfoy magic is jealous magic, my love, and refuses to share her next Paterfamilias. Now, what color do you think grandfather would enjoy seeing me in most? He’s such a…a selective man that I never quite know what to choose.”

“Why not the rose pink walking suit?” Lucius patted her hand. He knew better than to press when it came to the Black family and their secrets. “You look lovely in it and the embroidery is a work of art. I believe he objects most strongly to those who won’t learn what suits and is suitable, and then look a fright at his dinner table, like your Aunt Walburga, who will wear claret where burgundy would suit better.”

“The wool is gorgeously warm. And I have my white furs…but such a bright pink in January? Do you think grandfather would find it frivolous?”

“You have the cardinal or the sapphire if you think the rose too unseasonal. I think the French tailoring keeps it from frivolity. He does approve of robes from France.” Lucius opened the door to her dressing room and brought her to the vanity. “Shall I leave you?”

“No.” Narcissa caught his hand. “Stay with me. We can decide on an approach together.”

He smiled down at her and then went to fetch the walking suits they’d discussed. No need to call for help when he could play Lady’s Maid just as well.

[saintlike78]

Bad day [D.M.]

Parings: Husband! Draco Malfoy x fem! Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N comes home from work after having the worst day and doesn’t want Draco to see her sad, so she decides to go past his office without greeting him. Draco thinks she’s being bratty and goes to punish her but finds her crying and comforts her instead.

Warnings: NSFW 16+, shower sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, slight fingering, unprotected sex, reader being sad.

You loved your job, it made you so happy, most of the time, but today you wanted to either scream, cry or pull your hair out, purely out of frustration.

Closing the front door gently, hoping your husband wouldn’t hear you come home, you quietly remove your shoes and coat.

Usually, you loved coming home after a long day of work to see Draco, working away in his home office, or with dinner ready for you to eat together. Today was different, you could feel a breakdown slowly creeping up on you and you really didn’t want to burden Draco with a crying mess, when he was also stressed with his own work. You knew Draco would always comfort you when you’re feeling down, but it still made you feel guilty.

Moving your feet quietly down the long hallway that led to your bedroom, but said hallway unfortunately also housed Draco’s office. The door to his office was open and you could hear him typing away on the keys of his computer, soft music filling the background. During any other normal day, you would make your way into said office and greet him with a kiss and sometimes you would stay and watch him until he was done with work, making this a little routine.

As quickly as you possibly could, you breeze past the office, praying he was too busy to notice you.

Alas, this is Draco we’re talking about, so of course, he noticed. He had heard the front door click shut and heard your soft footsteps make their way down the hall, he had expected them to lead to him, but was very surprised when your figure passed by the door, without even a small greeting. Furrowing his brows, Draco shut his laptop and stared at the doorway, almost expecting you to come in laughing because he was half expecting your action to be a joke. When you didn’t appear, but instead heard the water from the shower running, coming from the bathroom connected to your shared bedroom, he could feel the annoyance building.

You weren’t exactly a stranger to being a bit bratty, to rile him up, so Draco’s mind instantly jumped to this conclusion, maybe you just wanted attention and that was exactly what you were going to get.

Getting up from his office chair, Draco made his way into the bedroom where he could see your work clothes thrown haphazardly in a path leading to the bathroom.

Smirking, he opened the door as quietly as possible, as to not alert you of his presence and he slowly slid into the bathroom.

You were in the shower, facing away from him, the water engulfing your head to muffle out the sound of the outside world, your salty tears mixing with the warm water from the shower. You knew Draco would probably hear the shower running, but that he hopefully would be too busy with work to think about it.

Ridding himself of his own clothes, Draco’s mind was racing, thinking of what kind of punishment he would bestow upon you for ignoring him.

Walking behind the glass of the shower, Draco stood and took a moment to admire you from behind, thinking about how lucky he was (and also about ravishing you, but mostly admiring).

“So, what makes you think it’s okay to ignore me, darling?” Draco started, finally announcing his presence.

His voice behind you startled you a bit and made you jump slightly, but you still didn’t turn around to meet his gaze, not wanting him to see you bawling your eyes out because of something as silly as work.

When you didn’t turn, Draco just assumed you were testing his patience, so he walked closer to you, so close you could feel the heat radiating his body.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, I don’t appreciate this bratty behavior,” he said as he grabbed your arm to get you to turn around, but you just shook your head.

Draco was suddenly confused; normally when you were being bratty, you would always come with a snarky comment or directly test his patience, not actually ignore him.

He grabbed both your arms, forcing you to turn, and that’s when he saw your red puffy eyes, he only assumed they were accompanied by tears, but the water from the shower disguised them. Your body was quivering slightly as you took shaky breaths, still not looking him in the eye.

“Darling… what’s the matter?”

You shook your head again, knowing that if you started talking your voice would break and a fresh set of tears would make their way out. Draco just took your body and wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tightly against his bare chest.

As soon as his arms were around you, you buried your face in his chest and the tears started again, making you let out small sobs against him.

Stroking your back gently he tried getting you to talk again, “baby, can you tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you? Was it something I did?”

“No,” you hiccuped as you spoke, “you didn’t do anything… I just had a very bad day at work, and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”

“My darling,” he cooed, “I’m always here for you when you’re having a bad day, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me… you’re not a bother, I always want to help you feel better.”

Retracting your face from his chest so you could look at his face, finally meeting his eyes, still in his arms, you gave a small nod.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, still stroking your back.

“Not right now,” you started, your tears having calmed down, “I just want to not think about it.”

Draco nodded and smirked slightly. “I might have a way to take your mind off it.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the small smile that was working its way onto your face.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

His smirk only grew at your response, “I could wash your hair.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head once again at his little game.

“Okay, you can wash my hair,” you said and tilted your head up slightly and puckering your lips, silently asking for a kiss.

Draco grinned and bent his head down to meet your lips in a short, but loving kiss.

Grabbing your shampoo from the shelf he squirted some in his hand and brought it to your hair, slowly lathering it up and massaging it in. You let out a sigh of contentment, enjoying the way his long slender fingers worked their magic on your scalp.

After rinsing your hair of the shampoo, applying conditioner, and rinsing that as well you thought you would be done, but Draco, as always, had different plans.

“Now, darling, your hair is nice and clean, but we’re still missing one step,” he said with a smirk and a playful look in his eyes.

You cocked your head a tad, asking him a silent question with the action, wondering what he had in mind.

Smirking even wider, he grabbed the small showerhead and also turned off the overhead shower. Turning on the smaller showerhead and setting the water pressure to the highest setting, it clicked in your brain what he was going to do, and your stomach flipped with excitement and you could already feel your arousal start to seep out.

Gripping your waist, he held you close, but still left a gap between you, making room for the showerhead. Slowly, he brought the showerhead over your stomach and guided it downwards, pausing right above your heat, but not for long. Finally, he brought it down so the water could hit your clit perfectly, making your breath hitch and then letting out a long breathy moan. The pressure from the water was making your knees quiver and you reached one hand up to grab Draco’s shoulder and the other gripped his bicep to keep yourself upright.

The moans you were letting out were going straight to Draco’s, already painfully hard, cock.

“You make such pretty noises, princess.”

Getting closer and closer to your release, you started to slowly move your hips to create a nice pulsing friction against your clit. Draco, of course, noticed and smirked, your moans and whines enough confirmation that you were close.

“You gonna cum for me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer from the way your grip on his shoulder and bicep was tightening more by the second.

Nodding, you let out a breathy whine as your orgasm finally took over, making your knees quiver and body shake with pleasure. If Draco hadn’t been holding you up by your waist, you surely would have crumbled to the ground.

Draco turned off the water for the small showerhead, but turned the large overhead shower on again, as for you not to freeze.

“You did so good, my good girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss you all over your face, “you ready to take my cock, angel?”

“Yes, please Draco,” you whimpered out, very desperate for him to fill you.

He chuckled at your neediness but nevertheless brought your back towards the wall.

“Jump, baby.”

Doing as you’re told, you jump slightly. Catching you, Draco makes you wrap your legs around his waist.

With one hand on your waist, holding you up, he uses his free hand to guide his length between your soaked folds, slowly entering you.

You both let out simultaneous moans as he enters you, his hand now going under your thigh as he starts moving in and out of you at a steady pace.

“You feel so good, always so good and tight for me, my darling,” he groans out.

“Faster, Draco, please,” you manage to get out between moans.

Draco doesn’t need to be told twice. Picking up his pace, his hips move faster, chasing your second high of the evening and his own.

You’re a babbling mess, leaning forward to kiss him before burying your face in his neck, lightly biting down.

Draco lets out a particularly loud groan at the sensation, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm. Reaching between the two of you, he finds your clit and draws circles, wanting you to finish before he does.

You let out a loud moan and without warning your orgasm washes over you, making you see stars, whilst your entire body shakes, gripping Draco’s back so hard, you’re afraid you’ve drawn blood.

Hearing your moan and feeling your walls flutter around him, Draco himself is brought to his end. Dick twitching, you feel him release inside of you.

“Yeah, take all my cum, you’re gonna be so full,” he groans as he pumps slowly in and out of you, making sure you’re nice and filled.

Emptying completely inside, he slowly pulls out, earning a low whine-esque moan from you, and helps you down on your feet. He stabilizes you, with one hand on your hip and crouches down, and enters two fingers in your already very sensitive cunt.

“No, too se..sensitive,” you whine out.

“I know, my baby, just want to make sure you’re nice and full,” he coos, looking up at your blissed-out face.

Deciding that you’re full enough, Draco pulls out his fingers and stands up, guiding his fingers to your mouth beckoning you to open, which you gladly do. Taking his fingers in your mouth and sucking lightly, to clean them, you look up at Draco with the most innocent look you can muster, even though what you just did was very far from innocent. He lets out a groan, his eyes rolling a little back and his head also falling a little back.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You smirk a little and he removes his fingers.

Leaning down, he kisses you again, this kiss slow and passionate, thumb slowly stroking your cheek.

After cleaning you up, Draco jumped out of the shower, drying himself off before grabbing you a towel and letting you dry off, while he went to your bedroom and rummaging through his closet for a jumper, for you to wear.

Finally satisfied with the clothing option he picked for you, he quickly pulled on a pair of underwear and sweats, before making his way back to the bathroom.

Watching in silence as you pulled on the (very skimpy) pair of panties and the jumper he had picked out, he was just admiring you, doing the most mundane thing, but to him, you were just ethereal.

“Come on, darling, let’s go cuddle and you can tell be all about who I have to hex for you,” Draco said, making you chuckle.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him, before he could guide you out of the bathroom, you puckered your lips, indicating the fact that you wanted a kiss.

Chuckling, he bent down and lovingly pecked your lips.

“Thank you for always cheering me up, my love,” you said as Draco began to lead you to the bedroom and towards your shared bed.

Draco smirked, “anytime, princess,” he winked.

[fredshufflepuff]

“i like your ring” || d.m ✧˖*°࿐

summary: draco gives you his ring.

a/n: this tiktok send tweet

warnings: gn!reader, soft!draco ugh, just fluff

word count: 627

you weren’t the type to socialize a lot with people, especially ones you didn’t know—you felt more comfortable with the friend group you were already apart of.

but sitting in potions, your eyes heavy and brain turned into mush, you couldn’t help but let your attention draw to the slytherin boy next to you.

his fingers were moving gracefully along the cutting knife, slicing through the beetle eye carefully before tossing it into the cauldron.

“i like your rings, draco. they’re really nice.”

the words had left your mouth before you could stop to think, but it really didn’t matter, what’s done is done.

the boy looked up at you slowly, cocking his eyebrow as he though to himself—but before he could respond, your name was called and you were gone.

“coming, ron. give me a second” you said, grabbing your bag and tossing it over your shoulder before turning back to the pale boy, “bye draco.”

he watched as you joined the two boys he despised the most, a string of laughter falling from your lips as you walked with out with them.

he’s never really payed attention to you until now. sure you were pretty, but you hung around the golden trio and were a gryffindor. of course that’s no reason for draco not to talk to you, but he just never thought to.

“why were you talking to draco?” ron asked, the three of you waiting outside the library for hermione.

you turned to give him a look, shrugging your shoulders before mumbling out a—“why not?”

“let’s just say he hasn’t got the best reputation” harry butted in, him and ron snickering as you rolled your eyes.

“i think i can decided that for myself thanks.”

the next day was nothing special, you were listening to hermione rant about potions at breakfast when all of a sudden an owl flew in.

the bushy haired girl stopped mid sentence to look up, talking outloud to herself as she watched it fly towards you, “it’s a bit early for mail isn’t it?”

you were surprised when a package was dropped right in front of you, the owl quickly flying off as you sat there silent.

it wasn’t christmas, or your birthday—and your parents didn’t say anything about sending you something, so what could it be?

“open it” ron said, bringing you away from your thoughts as you looked up to see the three of them eyeing you in suspense.

“okay okay” you giggled, dramatically rolling your eyes as you slowly started to open the package.

expecting a letter, you were surprised to see a ring fall out—not just any ring, draco’s ring.

“is that a ring?” hermione asked quietly, peering over the table to try and get a better look.

“on a necklace?” ron chimed in.

you ignored their questions and opened the letter that was attached.

‘i put the ring on a necklace because your fingers looked a little small compared to mine, hope you don’t mind. i hope you like it, darling.’

you couldn’t help but blush deeply after reading the letter, your heart fluttering at the kind thought.

“who’s it from?” harry finally asked, breaking the silence that had seemed to cast over the table.

“umh..” you trailed off for a few seconds as you tucked the note into your robe pocket, “i don’t know.”

you subtly turned your head to the side and peered over at the slytherin table, draco’s eyes catching yours and immediately locking.

there was a small smile on his face, something you’ve never seen him do before.

you return the favor with giving him a soft smile, following that action by putting the necklace on.

you were right about draco, he really was just a softy—even if it was towards you and you only.

draco malfoy tag list 🏷 @dracomalfoys-wh0re @fjorelaant @eunoniaa @xlauren-malfoyx @90smalfoy @astoria-malfcy @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins @ang9lic @malfoysbiitch @Harrypotter_Whore @aetheralist @miraclesoflove @myloveforluna @bellatrixscurls @dracosbaibe @skaratjung @1800-shutup @wh0re4blaise @riddleswh0r3crux @thatsassyhufflepuff @dreamxnotxfound @drachoesimp @marrymetheonott @elevatorsdoor @pinkandblueblurbs @dlmmdl @letmereadpls @dagirlintheback @onyourgoddamnleft @moonyinthelight @turn-to-page-394-please @samineisntmyname @elizabethrosedarling @authorb @justasmolballofstress @persephonestoad @escapingrealitybyreading @happydazzz123 @adnaweasley @harrysamortentia @funnikusu @fleursbabe

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.3 Accidental Bonding (Part 3)

You can start at Part One, if you'd like.)

"Piss off, Malfoy," Jenkins snarled from across the room at the end of the training exercise, drawing Harry's attention from the conversation he was having with Ron. "You are such an arsehole. You think you're so clever, so much better than us," he shoved Malfoy's shoulders, "but you're just a slimy Dark Lord worshiper-"

"Oy!" Harry shouted, darting forward and physically putting his body between Jenkins and Malfoy, "Don't talk to him like that."

"I'll talk to that fu-"

"You need to back down," Harry growled, his body thrumming with energy, fingers tingling with the urge to punch Jenkins in the face, his magic racing hot and bright under his skin.

Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't," he said. "He's not worth it."

He glared at the other man for a moment before taking a step toward the locker room.

"Oh, I get it," Jenkins sneered, "some people are so possessive of their pets. He's letting you fuck him now, so-"

Harry spun around so fast that Jenkins didn't have a moment to see what was about to happen as Harry's fist connected with his jaw. "Watch your mouth," he growled, low in his throat. "We aren't sleeping together but even if we were that wouldn't change the fact that he is twice the auror you will ever be." He took another step closer, "He's smarter, faster, and has better instincts. And everyone knows that your pathetic attempts to belittle him are out of jealousy. So you can fuck off before you make an even bigger arse of yourself."

"Alright," Ron said, holding out his hands between them. "That's enough."

Jenkins spat blood at Harry's feet but had the good sense not to say anything more as he left and slammed the door behind him.

Harry turned to see Malfoy storming away from him. "Malfoy," he shouted but the other man threw him a two fingered salute and stalked off.

"What the hell?" Harry grumbled.

(Read more below the cut)

Ron shrugged, "Beats me, mate." He slapped him on the shoulder, "but I wouldn't want to be going home with him. He looked pissed."

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

Regrettably Ron was right, Malfoy was pissed. Harry couldn't understand it and the other man wouldn't say a word to him about it.

They went home and Malfoy shut himself in the bedroom without a word, leaving Harry standing completely confused in the living room. "What the hell?" he repeated.

Hands on his hips, he stared off after the other man and replayed what he'd said to Jenkins for the fiftieth time, trying to figure out what had made Malfoy so mad.

Giving up on trying to puzzle it out seemed like the only course of action so he headed into the kitchen and started dinner. In the past week and a half, Draco had cooked, they'd cooked together, or ordered take out. Harry hadn't cooked anything on his own since he's arrived and honestly, he was glad for the chance to cooking now.

He chopped up an onion, diced a carrot, chopped up a stalk of celery, and minced several cloves of garlic. Then he turned to the stove and heated a frying pan, pouring in some olive oil before tossing in the veggies and letting them cook down while he chopped up lettuce for a salad.

After about ten minutes, he added the ground beef, salt, and pepper into the frying pan and uncorked a bottle of Merlot, pouring himself a generous glass and dumping a few ounces in with the beef and veg.

He cast a simple spell to keep the spoon stirring while the beef browned and he turned to cut up tomatoes and onions for the salad and made a simple vinaigrette. When the beef was brown and fragrant, he added in tomato paste, diced tomatoes, basil, oregano, and a dash of nutmeg before stirring it all together.

With a pleased hum, he put the lid on the pot and cast a spell that would condense the simmering time to about thirty minutes instead of three hours.

While the sauce cooked down he baked brownies, tossed the salad, and prepped the water and spaghetti. Boiling the spaghetti, cutting the brownies, and plating everything was easy after that. Harry topped the bowls of bolongese with freshly grated Parmesan and basil.

Then, after a moment of debate, he decided to bring dinner to Malfoy instead of the other way around and laid out their salads, bowls of bolognese, glasses of wine, and brownies onto a tray. He levitated it down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Malfoy called, sounding bored and detached and Harry had to take a steadying breath to tamp down the irritation that tone of voice invoked before opening the door.

"Made dinner," he said casually.

Malfoy turned his head from where he was laying on the bed, idly catching a snitch and releasing it. He sat up, his blonde hair trailing behind him, "It smells good."

"You don't need to sound surprised," Harry teased.

Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but Harry continued as he set the tray in the middle of the bed.

"I'm just kidding," he assured quickly.

"Do you really think that it's wise to consume red wine and pasta on a white bed?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow arched at him as he climbed onto the bed across the tray from Malfoy.

"It'll be fine," Harry assured as he picked up his salad bowl and speared a tomato. "We're wizards, we'll magic it away if we must."

Malfoy hummed but picked up his own salad. "Thank you."

He shrugged a shoulder, "No problem. I like to cook, actually."

"Do you?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Once we left Hogwarts and I was living on my own, I was eating out all the time and it wasn't doing me any favors. So I learned how to make some simple things that taste good." He tilted his head, "What about you? You're not a bad cook."

His cheeks turned a light pink and he cleared his throat, "That's Granger's doing actually."

"Sorry?"

He sighed, "She made a really good case about house elves. I didn't want to be who my parents wanted me to be so when I moved out and joined the aurors, I basically shunned anything that whiffs of pureblood bullshit. It has no place here," he said gesturing to his home with his fork.

Harry blinked, "That's amazing."

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious," Harry said. "You're amazing and I had no idea."

"Stop," Malfoy said. "Please, it's not-"

"Is that what earlier was about?"

Malfoy stilled, "Excuse me?"

"Is that why you were upset?" he asked. "You thought that I was taking the piss?"

"I thought that you have an insufferable hero complex that makes me want to vomit," he growled.

"You're a hedgehog," Harry said, finally understanding.

Malfoy froze, "Who told you that?"

"Told me what?" Harry asked.

"That my patronus is a hedgehog," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry laughed and Malfoy flushed cherry red, his eyes narrowed. "No, sorry," Harry said holding out a hand, "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I had no idea, honestly!"

"Then what made you say it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just," he paused and took a bite of bolognese as he searched for the right words, "When you start to feel vulnerable or like someone is going to hurt you, you curl into this defensive ball that will stab at someone no matter what they say or do."

"I-"

"You are genuinely one of the best aurors in our class," Harry said earnestly, steering the conversation to something more tangible that they were less like to fight over. "I was serious."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You're just saying that because the bond-"

He shook his head, "I've always thought that," he protested. "It's annoying as fuck because it always seems like everything comes so easily to you. I used to complain about it to Ron all the time."

"Says you," Malfoy protested. "You're always doing everything right; throwing yourself into danger to protect people." He shook his head, "By all accounts, what you do shouldn't work but it does. You're a good auror, Potter."

Harry swallowed, "Thanks, Malfoy. That means a lot coming from you."

"Yes, well," he said as he took a sip of wine, "Don't let it go to your head."

Harry chuckled and they took a few bites in companionable silence before Draco started to talk again.

"You didn't have to come to my rescue with Jenkins, you know."

He waved the thought away, "He's an arse. We've had it out before."

"I'm just saying," he argued, "I was fine. Honestly what he was saying wasn't even that bad."

"Not that bad?!" Harry yelped. "He-"

Malfoy shook his head, "It's the bond, Potter, don't you see that? Jenkins has said a lot worse, other trainees have said a lot worse, and you've never felt the need to jump in and defend my honor before."

Harry frowned.

"You're being swayed by what the bond wants you to feel about me."

"I'm not sure you're right," he said. "Because you shouldn't be treated like that at work. No one should be treated like that."

"Be that as it may-"

"I'm just saying, even if the bond brought it to my attention, I would have done that for anyone. If he'd been saying shite like that to Ron, I would have decked him, too."

Malfoy looked like he was going to argue with him, before visibly changing his mind, "You do have a wand, you know. There's no need to resort to brute force."

Harry shrugged, "But there's just something so satisfying about punching someone."

A laughed forced it's way up Malfoy's throat and Harry grinned at him. Shaking his head, Malfoy replied, "You're ridiculous. And this is good, by the way," he added, pointing to his pasta with his fork.

"Good," Harry said with a pleased little smile.

The conversation turned lighter as they bickered about the training exercises and the best approach, but the bickering held none of the animosity it had a week and a half before.

And Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of this was the bond's doing and how much was simply him.

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[seriouslysam8]

So I started reading your fics about a month ago. I didn’t start them because I’m a hinny shipper or anything, like most people here are, but because your storylines and plots are so elaborate and well-written that it doesn’t feel like fanfiction. It feels like a continuation of the books almost. I have a question though. Why do you focus on Harry? I know everyone says he’s underrated, and maybe he is, but he’s literally the main character. We read about him for 7 books being all grumpy and moody and totally oblivious. I say this in the nicest way possible, but why do you like him so much? Why don’t you write stories from the people you want to know more about? Like from Draco’s or George’s or even Luna’s pov. Aren’t you sick and bored of harry after reading him for 7 books? I always found his character to be kinda mean and dramatic and, to be honest, dumb. Im sorry but he just never seemed very intelligent or talented to me, tbh. I love the series as a whole, I mean the Harry Potter series was by childhood, but I just grew tired of the main character. Thats just how I feel. And I know most the of fandom likes to focus on characters like Draco and the marauders or even regulus because they’re more interested in them than harry. So why do you like him so him? I’m just curious because I feel like most people I talk to couldn’t care less about harry, and if they like the main people, they’re usually more interested in ron or hermione or neville. I guess this is also for anyone reading this ask, because everyone here seems to love him. I think it’s funny because I always pictured him skinny and ugly looking, not appealing at all lmao. And everyone here seems to think he’s a super attractive dude? Now yes, I know the books say he’s tall and hint at him having good looks later in the series, but still I never got the distinct impression that he was much of a looker. Everyone here also seems to find him adorable, which confuses me because I always thought he was just dumb and grumpy lmao. And same with his magic. I always thought he was a lot less powerful than everyone expected him to be and just got lucky because Hermione and Dumbledore did everything for him, but you think he’s super powerful? Now this is no hate to your series. I think it’s extremely well written and you are very talented and I plan to keep reading. I just want to know what you actually like about Harry’s character that makes you want to write a series from his POV. Same with hinny, we barely see them in the books. Their relationship seemed short lived in my mind and I was surprised to see them actually get married in the epilogue. I’m very interested in your take on them and I like how you write them, I just want to know why, if that makes any sense at all.

First off, I want to say I am so happy that you’re here for the elaborate and complex plots. I spend a lot of time thinking of unique plots. Anyway… onto your actual ask. Although, I’m not sure how well I will be able to convey my love for Harry or for Hinny because I’ve never had to justify my love for them before! 

Gosh, this is a loaded question because I simply love Harry and Hinny is my all-time favorite ship in the entire series. It just saddens me when I read about how people hate Harry or Hinny, because I think they’re just the best thing in the entire book series. (With Sirius and Ron being very close seconds.)

Harry is very flawed, and I relate to him on a lot of different levels. I love that he’s so sassy, so moody, so anti-social. I mean, the kid is so fucking awkward that I love it. He’s just so wholesome! I mean, the person he will miss most in life is his best friend?!?! How fucking adorable? He doesn’t take shit from people. He was shit on his entire childhood by his abusive family and he is just quick to the draw with his sassy ass comments. And I always wanted more about him as an adult. Who did he become? Did he continue on with his anti-social, moody, and awkward personality? Did he get reprimanded at work for his sass? Did he reel in that sass and learn how to actual function in society a bit better? The epilogue wasn’t enough for me and CC can just be burned.

So I write the series a lot from Harry’s POV because I just loved his awkward little cabbage self in the books and I love shaping him into a big little cabbage as an adult. I write him as an extremely flawed man who is learning to live with all of his baggage. Who doesn’t love a hot mess with a lot of emotional baggage attached to them? It makes for a very interesting main character where you love him but you also want to shake him and scream at him at the same time. You also want to root for him to overcome everything he’s been through. I think there was a big jump in his emotional intelligence from Brontide to Legerdemain. So, I love showing his growth as well. 

Hinny? FUCK! She’s like the first person he sees on the platform in PS. He saves her life in CS. They have a kinship to each other knowing just how wicked and twisted Voldemort actually is from their shared trauma. They’ve both had Voldemort rattling around in their heads and manipulating them and using them. They are the only two who can understand each other. Ginny isn’t afraid to knock Harry down a peg in OOTP. She likes him so much but accepts that he doesn’t see her as anything but his best mate’s little sister and she moves on like a mature little tomato. She’s just his friend because she knows how much he needs friends and how socially inept he is to find friends besides Ron and Hermione. She doesn’t fight him when he breaks up with her for her safety, doesn’t cry or lash out. She knows what he has to do and knows he loves her. They just understand each other so perfectly, they have the same sense of humor, and they have some of the same fucking baggage. 

I just like Harry and I like Ginny and I love Hinny. That’s why I write them. Draco isn’t interesting to me. I don’t share a lot of the Marauder fandom headcanons so everyone would probably hate me over there. Regulus is of no interest to me. Neville is boring as all fuck. Hermione is the worst character in the entire series. Ron… now, Ron I love. Ron I could write a series on but Romoine would have to fuck off. STILL… even in a Ron series, you’d have the Harry and Ron bromance as a central feature. I love the Weasley sibling dynamic so you’d get a lot of Ginny. 

So, I don’t know if that answers your question or not, but I love Harry and his cabbageness. I love Ginny and her fierceness. I love Hinny and their perfectness together. They are the chef’s kiss to me. I hope you enjoyed my rambling rant!

[rockingrobin69]

Learning Curve

Four out of five dentists would recommend against reading this piece (1.7k). Think of your teeth! 

“Uncle Harry, did you know Uncle Draco is a weredragon?”

“A what now?” he frowned, tucking the duvet under Teddy’s chin.

“A weredragon. Like how dad was a werewolf, but with a dragon.”

Harry huffed a small chuckle. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t, Ted.” To be fair, considering all the things he’d learned about him since Malfoy adopted Teddy, Harry wouldn’t be too surprised if he actually turned out to be a weredragon. It won’t even be the most shocking discovery.  

“No, he is. All the best people are were-something, he said. So he’s a weredragon.”

Harry resisted the temptation to ask if he was a were-something, too. “All right then, menace, go to sleep. You can tell me on Sunday if you’d seen him turn.” He shook his head through all the begging, bargaining and trickery, until Teddy finally relented and closed his eyes. Harry chewed on his grin, pressed a kiss to Teddy’s forehead, murmured in his ear and left, silently closing the door behind him.

And then heading out with his usual gracefulness – accidentally knocking into the dresser with a big yelp, stepping over every creaking floorboard, smacking against the door because he wasn’t really looking ahead, he was looking for – ah. Malfoy heard him, it would seem. Standing at the kitchen doorway, leaning against it like some sort of model in a Muggle magazine, rolling his eyes. Harry noticed he was holding his breath.

“Care to join me for a drink, Potter?”

He didn’t know why he was nervous. This happened every night.

The thing is, Harry loved Teddy so much. So, so much, he even considered adopting him himself after Andromeda and all. But Harry’s stupid job was too stupid to allow it, and Malfoy was technically ‘family’. And so Harry came by every day – well, night, stupid job and all – to see how Teddy was doing. And then, every night, he’d run into Malfoy, who had no choice but to invite him for a drink. It would be wine, sometimes, or flavored butterbeer, or – and only once – straight up Ogden’s whisky. But mostly it’d be hot chocolate, which apparently was something Malfoy enjoyed, and something Harry seemed to find quite irresistible.  

Of all the new things he’d learned about Malfoy, this was perhaps one of the most surprising. He made the best hot chocolate. It was the perfect temperature, the perfect sweetness, the perfect texture. Perfection in a cup. Harry followed him into the kitchen, sat in his favorite chair (somewhat dangerously with the way Malfoy’s books were stacked so high behind his back), and turned his gaze to the fridge. Teddy’s newest masterpiece was magicked to the door, and even squinting Harry couldn’t tell what it was meant to be.

“A wolf,” Malfoy muttered as he laid a cup of hot cocoa before Harry. “Your godson is very talented, you know.”

Harry hummed into his cup, probably smearing his nose full of whipped cream. “Bet you I could draw a better one.”

He waited. Some nights Malfoy wasn’t in the mood. He’d be tired, or closed off, and they’d just sit there in silence and stare. Some nights he was restless, far too giddy to stay still, and they’d go for a walk in the forest. But tonight –

Tonight Malfoy was game. He scoffed and summoned two quills and some parchment. “Let’s see – five minutes, best drawing wins?”

Harry grinned privately to himself. There must have been something in that hot chocolate, because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he just loved spending nights at Wiltshire.  

*

“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one Sunday, sliding into his wellies. “Did you know that Uncle Draco had a pet a stag?”

“What?” Harry was busy arranging a beanie on his orange hair with his tongue between his teeth. “A pet stag?”

“Yeah, when he was a kid. I asked him why he likes them so much, and he told me. His name was Arold and he was very stupid, Uncle Draco said.”

“Arold?” Harry laughed, tilting his head. “Ted, you know Uncle Draco is messing with you, yeah? He never had a pet stag. You can’t have stags as pets.” Malfoy had peacocks, which he hated, and the eagle owl, which he loved, and that was that. No stags. Harry knew that. He picked up every single piece of information about Malfoy slowly, carefully, and catalogued it all in his head. Malfoy was afraid of hippogriffs (still) and very enthusiastic about nifflers. He wanted a kneazle really badly as a kid, but his mother was allergic to the fur. Harry knew these things, now. He even had this insane idea to get a kneazle for him and Teddy, a fantasy he liked to entertain from time to time. Teddy’s words brought him back to reality with his cheeks oddly flushed and his ears ringing.

“That’s what he said.”

Harry wondered why Teddy thought Malfoy liked stags to begin with, but he’d already ran outside and jumped into the nearest puddle, so the question had to wait.

Malfoy was in the kitchen when they returned, and Harry plopped down next to a steaming mug of hot cocoa. The clutter all around practically screamed we actually live here, and Harry felt the warmth of it in his bones. His eyes kept zooming from Malfoy, to Teddy, happily blabbering about the squirrel they’d seen on their walk, and something in him thrummed. We actually live here. The flavor of want was sweet and sadly familiar.

*

“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one night in November, a tired little bundle of curiosity that ached in Harry’s chest with affection, “What’s emveeos?”

“Huh?” Harry stopped at the doorway, eyebrows drawn.

“Emveeos. Like if I was emveeos of someone.” Teddy gave him an exasperated little look, a come on you should know this one when Harry simply shook his head. “Uncle Draco said he’s emveeos of me.”

“What? When?” Harry’s heart did a funny little leap. He still didn’t really understand the question, but apparently the mere mention of ‘Uncle Draco’ was enough to ignite this heat inside him.

“Because you always kiss me good night.”

Harry could only shrug, but the heat intensified into something near intolerable. “I dunno, Ted. Best to ask him tomorrow, yeah? You know Uncle Draco is better at these things.” Better at most things, really. Cooking, drawing, writing, teaching. He was just good at everything. Even dancing – Harry had seen photographs of a very sulky boy beautifully performing the tango, no joke. And he could make the best hot chocolate. And –

“Okay. Good night, Uncle Harry.”

“Good night, Menace. I love you.” Harry made sure to tell him that every night, even if Teddy was already asleep. It was good for him too, he thought, to get the practice.

That night there were mini marshmallows in the mug. Harry couldn’t help it anymore; he was so enamored with the – drink – it felt a little like an explosive device in his chest. He found a way to distract Malfoy for a couple of seconds while he covertly drew a vial of the cocoa, stashing it in his pocket. There had to be something wrong with it, a potion or something. There had to, or Harry was losing his mind. He’d lost enough things for a lifetime, he thought.

*

“No, Uncle Harry! Cookies first.”

It was the week before Christmas, and Malfoy was out on a last minute gift shopping trip. Harry and Teddy were in the kitchen together, in charge of lunch, though Teddy was more interested in sampling the Christmas cookies Malfoy had made. To distract him Harry suggested they try to prepare Malfoy’s cocoa – well, also so he’d have something hot to drink when he comes back, because Malfoy always suffered from the cold.

“Oh, Uncle Draco doesn’t like hot chocolate,” Teddy shook his head.

“But,” Harry didn’t know what to do with this information, which stood in stark contrast with everything he knew in this life. “He drinks it all the time with me.”

“No, no, he says it’s too sweet. He never drinks it.”

Harry felt utterly lost. The knowledge he’d collected of Malfoy was the foundation with which he was trying to build this – it was what he stupidly thought he could use to make a home. Hell, he’s been practicing – getting ready for – and all this time, Malfoy was lying?

When Malfoy returned Harry pretty much threw himself at him, boxing Malfoy at the door with all his shopping bags.

“You don’t like hot chocolate,” he said accusingly, and Malfoy’s eyes went big.

“What?”

“You don’t. And you told Ted you had a pet stag and that you’ve embossed him or something like that. But you don’t like hot chocolate.”

“I – “ Harry’s never seen Malfoy so flushed in his life, and was furious with how adorable that was. “All right. I don’t.”

“But you make it almost every night,” Harry contested. He felt a little woozy.

“Yes.” When Harry gave an odd grunt, he closed his eyes. “You like it.”

“So?”

“So…” Malfoy’s shrug was so painfully sad. “I thought you’d… come here if you…”

Harry didn’t wait for the sentence to finally come to a stop, it was taking forever. “So you just lied?” 

“No!” two grey eyes opened, sort of panicked. “I just – I’ve been trying, all right? all this time, to learn to… to get to know you. All these things about you, and then I saw how much you liked it when I made hot cocoa for Teddy and – I just. Want you to. Have. Things that you like.”

Harry couldn’t feel his tongue. His head was spinning. He didn’t know what to do about this, didn’t know what to think, didn’t know – he just didn’t know. Sadness was familiar, and losing, and being lied to, but – but this –

“Kiss him, Uncle Harry!” a little voice carried from behind him, and startled he caught a glimpse of blue hair. Hell. A quarter of his age, and Teddy was at least twice as clever. Harry leaned forward and did the only thing that made sense, and the kiss was solid enough to build on. Malfoy’s lips were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hot chocolate, no matter how good, could never compare.

Wow, I really ran away with this one... Today was day 6 of my Seven Sins of Drarry one-shot collection, and was all about - Teddy almost had it: envy! Hope you’re ready to be good, because there’s only one sin left!

Day 1: wrath   | Day 2: lust  | Day 3: sloth  | Day 4: greed  | Day 5: gluttony | Day 7: pride

[coffeedrgn87]

WIP Snip Sunday

I've been tagged a bunch of times over the past couple of weeks, but I didn't have anything to share. Now I finally do, and I'm hoping that you may just love this. Thanks to everyone who tagged me, quietly pushing me to finally tackle something I've been procrastinating on doing. Please send any kudos to my darling Pheebs 🌵😼; it is because of her unwavering support that I am finally writing Book 3. I must be mental, but I'm OK with that.

CW: D/s dynamic and spanking (mention only), this excerpt is perfectly PG-13, I guess.

Momentarily distracted by how the candlelight danced in Harry’s highly-polished golden wedding band, Draco temporarily forgot all about the spoonful of homemade dessert Harry was offering him.

“Still a little floaty, eh?”

“Hm?”

Snapping out of his trance, Draco blinked, then smiled at Harry.

“What did you say?” he asked.

Harry huffed a laugh.

“I asked whether you’re still a bit floaty, but I think I’ve got my answer.”

Draco shrugged. He was still somewhat distracted by Harry’s ring and unable to resist; he reached for Harry’s hand and, drawing it closer, he pressed a lingering kiss to Harry’s ring finger.

Harry chuckled.

“Ah, OK. A case of nostalgia.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Can you blame me?”

Harry grinned.

“Never. It was a perfect day.”

Draco nodded.

“It was. Can’t believe it’s been five years. Seems like only yesterday.”

“You’re a sap.”

Draco threw a glare at Harry.

“Says the biggest sap of them all.”

“Well, what can I say, Draco Malfoy? You make me weak. Now, do you want that chocolate pudding or not?”

“You’ll be very sorry if you even try to withhold it.”

“Sassy.”

Draco shrugged.

“You love me that way,” he said, then accepted the dessert Harry was still offering him. He hummed around the spoon and smiled.

“The best.”

Harry grinned.

“Me or the dessert?”

Draco winked.

“Both?”

It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes.

“You can leave your legalese at the Ministry, thank you very much.”

Draco arched his eyebrow.

“Potter, please explain to me how ‘both’ is wordy, ostentatious talk?”

“It’s your way of hedging, weaselling your way out of committing to one thing over another.”

Draco laughed.

“First of all, dearest husband, if you want weaselling, Charlie is only a floo-call away; he’d be the expert in such matters. I’m sure Ronald would be only too happy to stand in for him if he's not available. Secondly, you know my weakness for dessert. I will never pick you over dessert. Nor will I ever pick dessert over you. So, ‘both’ is a perfectly reasonable response. Honestly, eight years and you have learnt absolutely nothing.”

Harry’s groan amused Draco endlessly.

“I ought to gag you for all that snarky sass you’re giving me.”

“That won’t stop me from using a quill and parchment.”

“Ropes will.”

“Not if I safeword.”

“I did not spank you enough earlier.”

Draco smirked.

“Would you like to go again?”

“Do. Not. Tempt. Me.”

“I am not; I am goading you.”

“That will not work. If you want me to put you over my knee, you’ll have to ask for it.”

“Will I?”

Harry nodded.

“Now behave.”

Draco chuckled.

“Make me, Potter.”

To Draco’s surprise, Harry reached for his arm and wrapped his hand around the bracelet—his eternity collar—that adorned his wrist and had done so for the past five odd years. He watched quietly as Harry squeezed lightly, then slipped his thumb underneath the bracelet and pressed against Draco’s pulse point.

“I don’t need to make you do anything, my little prince. You will do as I say because you want to do it, not because I force you to obey me. You know that as well as I do.”

Draco inhaled sharply.

He couldn’t deny any of that.

Harry was right.

The beauty of their relationship was that Harry never made him do anything. The things Harry ‘made’ him do were the things Draco wanted to do. Right from the start, things had always been this way, and even now, after three years of dating plus five years of marriage, Draco thrived on that arrangement. The novelty of it, the thrill of being under Harry’s control, had not yet worn off, and at this point in their relationship, Draco could not see that ever-changing. They were the perfect team. Everyone said so.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Just The Way You Are// D.M.

Request: Hi can you do a draco x reader where they are in a relationship and her parents are like as**oles and they always bother her about her weight so one day she is with draco and makes a comment like “maybe i should stop eating so much” or something like that and Draco is like WHAT and tells her that she is beautiful and all that and he is like really worried Thanks!!

A/N: MY 100TH FIC!!! MY 100TH FIC FOR HP!!! Of course it has to be Draco!! I didn't think I would ever reach 100 fics as well as get over 1000 followers yet here I am. I am so thankful to all of you who have read everything but have also motivated me into continuing to write even when I doubt my own abilities (which is a lot). Thank you so much for requesting, lovely! I hope I have done your request justice! I enjoyed writing this, I ended up writing it all in one sitting. Please read the warnings before you read! And as always, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: food, weight issues, shitty parents, swearing (I think) BUT DRACO IS CUTE DAMMIT.

Word count: 2k

Every morning in the Great Hall, breakfast is served at seven am sharp. This gives the students enough time to eat, socialise and let their food settle before classes begin promptly at half past eight. It also gives the students time to read over any mail that should fall with the Owls upon their arrival at eight am.

As your family owl drops a letter inscribed with the familiar handwriting of your mother, you don’t know whether to scream in frustration or burn the letter without reading. You knew that it would be filled with her usual criticism rounded off with a few sweet lines about the renovation to the house or how your cousin was doing so well on her internship abroad.

You flip the letter in your hands a few times; wondering whether the Howler from your mother would be worth it once she never got a reply from you. However, you eventually decide that the Howler would not be worth it and that your mother’s vitriol is better off read in silence.

Rolling your eyes, you try not to let the letter affect you so much. Her words are always poisonous and toxic, but this time, she cuts you where it hurts.

“My dear, how on earth is the Malfoy boy supposed to stay with you if you continue to gain weight? I’ve enclosed a new diet regiment for you to follow – stick to it, this is not an option.”

You scrunch up the letter and the included diet regiment in your hands. Crunching them up until they resemble litter rather than the foul words scrawled onto parchment.

You had never felt you had issues with your weight; there wasn’t any need to necessarily – the meals at Hogwarts were scheduled and there was enough exercise done through the day in order to get to classes on time, and this was before the weekend walks to Hogsmeade or the ambles around the Black Lake with Draco.

You don’t feel like there should be an issue with your weight, but your mother’s words are venomous barbs that stick into your brain. Her words on replay in the forefront of your mind.

There was no real excuse for the way your mother harked on about appearances and reputations. Your family hailed from an ancient line of witches and wizards; even going so far as to state that your ancestors were among the very first to attend Hogwarts when the founders were teachers.

So for your mother, everything since then had to be perfect.

Perfect hair. Perfect dress. Perfect manners.

Perfect weight, apparently.

Any appetite you had before has now dissipated. It’s funny how three lines of a letter is enough to put one off their morning meal.

You felt like a rule change should be implemented at Hogwarts; no mail until the evening - that way students don’t have the time to sit and worry about the thoughts of their parents.

Pushing your plate away from you, you bring out your reading book from your bag. Flipping through the familiar pages, you find the dog-eared corner from where you rounded off last night before falling asleep.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the pages having read the story over a thousand times before, but the niggling voice in the back of your head that sounds suspiciously similar to your mothers has you reading the same paragraph over and over again.

A kiss being pressed to the top of your hand is the first greeting from Draco. The next is a quiet good morning as he pours himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

You smile at the blonde-haired teenager, looking up from your book, but the smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Love, is everything okay?” Draco asks; immediately spotting that something is off.

You shake your head, “It’s nothing to worry about, love. I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Draco chuckles; not entirely convinced but happy to wait until you come to him. “It’s because you didn’t stay with me last night.”

You roll your eyes with a grin, “I’ve stayed in your dorm the last three nights; it’s only a matter of time before someone says something.”

Draco shrugs; leaning over to peck your cheek, “Let them, I don’t care.”

“You will when we get caught out by Snape on a random inspection,” You comment with a light laugh.

Draco smiles broadly at the idea of the Head of Slytherin ever completing a random inspection of the dungeon. He grabs a slice of toast from the rack and reaches for the marmalade.

His eyes wander over the lack of food in front of you, “Already eaten?”

You nod, smirking, “And all alone as well since you take so long in the mornings.”

He laughs, “It takes time to look this good, darling.”

“Sure it does,” You comment, leaning in to peck him on the lips. He hums against your mouth happily, but all too soon, you pull away, “I’m off to the library before class, I want to get ahead on the History of Magic essay. I’ll see you later.”

You drop another kiss to Draco’s mouth before hoisting your bag onto your shoulder and departing from the Great Hall.

Draco shakes his head at your retreating figure; something about you was off, but he couldn’t place his finger on what. He wasn’t going to pester you as it would only make things worse, but he knew he had to address it before you lost yourself from overthinking.

Draco bites into his toast; already thinking of the ways he can talk to you.

----

Your days are always filled with little highlights; seeing the first flower bloom after a long winter or reading your favourite part of your book without being interrupted or it’s finding Draco waiting outside your classroom after every lesson of the day.

You find him waiting opposite the door to your class; leaning against the wall with his robes open, showing the white buttoned shirt underneath. His rebelliousness highlighted in the undone top button and untucked shirt. You shake your head as you make your way over to the teenager that made your heart stutter.

He grins, holding his elbow out to you, “Lunch, my love?”

“Lead the way.”

The Great Hall is loud upon your arrival. Students shouting, laughing, grabbing for food from the centre of the tables. It’s a ruckus, but it makes you smile as you take a seat across from Draco at the Slytherin table.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Draco asks with a frown at the sight of your plate.

You nod your head; your mother’s words from this morning making another round in your head, “I’m not overly hungry.”

The frown doesn’t leave Draco’s face, and through lunch, he glances between your face and the plate, wondering what’s changed for your appetite to have disappeared.

Draco walks you to your next class after the bell rings signalling the end of lunch.

He pauses outside the classroom, keeping a tight grip on your hand. His other hand reaches up to caress your cheek; a rare form of PDA from the Slytherin Prince who was more than happy to kiss and hold hands but would rarely show his feelings so openly.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong wouldn’t you?” He asks; concern alight in his eyes.

You hold his hand to your cheek; pressing a kiss to the palm, “I would.”

He nods silently. Kissing your forehead, Draco turns away, striding to his next class.

Guilt stirs within you like a lead balloon; weighing you down for the rest of the day. Even the ringing of the final bell of the day wasn’t enough to lift your mood.

Draco continues to meet you after every class; his arm always ready for you to slip yours through. But he’s quieter; more sombre as he leads your through the bustling corridors and staircases.

At the end of the day, he escorts you to the Great Hall. The level of noise quieter from lunch but still loud as students discuss their plans for the evening over the food laid out on the long, wooden tables.

Dinner is a feast by any standard, and Draco tucks right in, piling food onto his plate – ravenous after a day filled with exam preparation. You take your time with your meal; selecting more and more vegetables as you think back to the letter and diet regiment now burning a hole through your bag.

Draco sighs as he watches you pick at your food. He reaches over, checking your temperature with the back of his hand on your forehead, “Well you feel fine,” he murmurs, “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve picked at your food all day, and you’ve become more distant as the day’s gone on.”

“I’ll talk to you about it in the common room,” You state.

“You will?”

Nodding, you promise,  “I will.”

Draco makes his way through the rest of the meal; drawing you into a conversation after conversation about how the day has been. When his plate is empty and yours has been pushed to one side, Draco stands from the bench. He takes one last drink of his pumpkin juice before holding his hand out to you.

The walk to the common room is quiet; you think over the letter in your bag, wondering about the reply you’re going to send back to your mother. One cross word from you and you wouldn’t be surprised if she, herself, showed up in Dumbledore’s office demanding punishment for your insolent words.

It was tiring, you realise, to be her daughter.

The Slytherin common room is silent when Draco leads you through the door; all students either still eating in the Great Hall or ambling about the castle. You settle on the black leather couch in front of the already lit fire; you hum at the warmth it gives off – holding your hands out to warm them through.

Once your hands are warm enough, you lean back into the couch. Feeling Draco’s eyes on you, you shift your head, facing him with a small smile.

Draco tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

You sigh, opening your bag and pulling out the letter. Handing it to Draco, you say wryly, “Dear old mama wrote, that’s what.”

Draco scans over the letter; getting to the three lines that have played on your mind all day and have affected your eating habits so quickly.

Draco folds the letter carefully into the three; he folds it ever so neatly before ripping it to pieces in front of your eyes, leaning forward and throwing the tiny pieces into the fire.

“I hope you don’t believe a word she’s written.”

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers, “Maybe I should stop eating so much.”

Draco leaps up from the couch; spreading his arms wide, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with your weight – you do not need to lose, you do not need to gain. You are perfect the way you are. I love you to pieces, but darling, your mother is an awful person. What sort of person sends that to their child?”

He kneels on the ground in front of you, “I will love you no matter what. The sky could be green, and the clouds could be purple hedgehogs, but even that would not distract me from my love for you.”

He gestures to the pieces of parchment now turning to ash in the flames, “Everything about you is beautiful; from the top of your head to the tip of your toes – there isn’t anything about you I don’t adore. Reply to your mother if you must; tell her that you’ve let me read the letter and that I absolutely disagree with her words.”

Draco surges forward, kissing you soundly. He shifts slightly, beginning to press you into the couch, “I love you – just the way you are.”

******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton​ @izzytheninja​ @slytherinprincess03​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey

[lazywonderlvnd]

Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly. 

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him. 

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it. 

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

*

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning. 

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences. 

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils. 

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

*

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

*

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather. 

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

 At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

You're a mess - G.W

Summary: You have to help your drunk boyfriend George.

Warnings: alcohol, drunk George, veeery (very very)brief mention of sex ;)

A/N: It's short and I don't like this but I thought the idea was cute. I wrote something to show I'm still a live. I'm almost at 500 followers and I'm going to do !!!!A CELEBRATION WITH SHIPS AND HEAD CANONS AND.....!!!! Can't wait :)

(ps: sorry for the grammar, corrections are always welcome ;))

❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊❁✿❊

A random muggle song played through the boxes at the common room party. I took a drink immediately because I was already two hours late. My potions assignment was finally done.

"Y/n here you are! I need your help" I heard Hermione say behind me.

"Hey Mione, what's wrong?" I asked confused.

"Well..." she sighed while pointing at the dance floor.

I didn't know what she meant, all I saw was happy dancing people. So I gave her a confused look.

"There y/n!" she pointed again.

That's when I saw it. "Oh no" I sighed.

On a table next to the dance floor, I saw my boyfriend George, his tie wrapped around his head instead of his neck. He was singing and waved his glass with fire whiskey in the air.

"Even Fred doesn't get him off that table, George fell 2 times already" Hermione complained.

"I'll try" I promised her with a little smirk, I couldn't deny: this was kind of funny.

I went closer to my drunk boyfriend and tapped his leg. Of course he didn't notice. Because he was standing on that table I could only reach his knee but not higher, so I had to scream.

"Georgie!" I tried. But the boy kept singing. "Baby?! Geoooorge!"

Finally, he turned his head, a big smile decorated his face.

"Y/n, darling, you're heeere" he stuttered drunkly.

He tried getting off the table, I was fast enough to grab his arm when I saw him wobbling.

When George got off the table he grabbed my face with his eyes half open.

A very dramatic gasp left his mouth, “you’re so fucking pretty” he whispered. I wanted to laugh at how he acted but it was cute too, so I gave him a little smile.

“You want me to put you in your bed Georgie?” I asked. He nodded. “Only if you stay with me”

“Ofcourse” I smiled.

Getting him to his dorm was harder than I thought. He laid all his weight on my shoulder and because he was so much taller, I could hardly hold him up.

Meanwhile, he placed wet kisses on my neck. “Your neck is so soft” his words were slurred.

When we finally reached his dorm I put him on his bed. That’s when I saw his tie was still around his head, making me laugh.

“What are you laughing at woman” he smiled while lazily leaning against the headboard.

I came closer and took the tie from his head. He went silent for a moment when my face came close to his. He seamed confused.

“What?” I asked

“Why didn’t you dance with me?” he whined, suddenly in a sad mood and a pouty face.

“I’ll dance with you next time Georgie” I promised. His smile appeared again.

“Let’s get you out of this clothes” I giggled.

“Ooooh you wanna go that way huh? I can't lie, that dress of yours is hoooot” he gloated with a smirk.

“No George! You just can’t sleep in these clothes” I slapped his arm.

“C’mooon, you look so fucking sexy” he whined. I shook my head trying to hide my smile.

“Just get ready for bed, I’ll lay next to you, okay?” I suggested.

He nodded and I took his clothes off, leaving him in his boxers.

“Please can you take your clothes off too and lay next to me like that. Pleaaaaseee” he whined again, god that boy became so whiny when he was drunk.

I took my clothes off too and placed myself next to him. Normally I'm the one laying on his chest but this time he surprised me by grabbing my waist and placing his head on my chest, holding me like his own personal teddy bear.

“Your boobs are so soft to lay on” he mumbled. “Mmm and you’re so warm, you know that I love you right?” he added.

“I love you too baby, now sleep, if you need anything you can wake me up okay?” I whispered.

“Okay princess” he sighed.

For a minute it was silent. I thought he was already asleep but then I heard a big dramatic sigh again.

“What now George?” I retorted.

“Are you going to leave me one day?” he asked.

Where the hell did that come from? It was not common for George to ask something like that.

“Ofcourse not baby, you don’t have to worry about that” I promised.

I started stroking his soft ginger hair, making him grab me thighter and pulling me impossibly closer to him.

He answered by drawing little circles on my belly.

When he stopped stroking my belly and when I heard him breath peacefully, I knew he was finally asleep.

I kept playing and twisting with strands of his hair, enjoying the feeling of his heartbeat against my body. He looked so peaceful, his beautiful lashes surrounded by his freckles.

He was beautiful.

God, how I loved that boy.

____

Next will be smut, can't wait!!

Taglist:

@rudypankowisdaddy @malfoysdamnapple @marrymetheonott @dracos-eternity @ayaosk (couldn't tag you) @gryffindorgirl @anli4491 (couldn't tag you) @0x0spunky-monkey0x0

(if this is wrong, send me a message)

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳april’s fool ♡

in which fred weasley is in love with y/n l/n, the girl he happens to tease and insult profusely for her attention. 

fred weasley x gryffindor!fem!reader 

word count: ±4.3k 

tw: food, fireworks, pranking, fred being a bully, tad bits of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. minnie, dumbledore and severus

yeah, your grandmama probably know me 

get more bottles, these bottles are lonely

it's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', "wow"

april’s fool 

“tomorrow is april fools,” dumbledore sighs. 

“you know what that means...?” mcgonagall asks, her voice on edge.

“the twins,” snape replies quickly, not even bothered one bit as he sips his dark coffee.

“and their pranks,” dumbledore dramatically rolls over in his armchair.

“okay and?” 

“they’re a hazard, severus!” mcgonagall replies.

“that doesn’t stop them.”

“what will stop them?” dumbledore ponders, eyes faint with interest. 

“you still have those weird buzzy fireworks right?” snape asks. 

��of course.”

“and minnie, you have the cake mix your grandmother gave you?”

“still in my cupboard next to the biscuits.”

“excellent.”

y/n l/n listens from the other side of the door, grinning. she’s been called to mcgonagall’s lavish office for some business she hopes isn’t trouble, but the conversation the three are deeply invested in piques her interest. 

she likes fun. the type of continuous laughter and uncontrollable fits of giggles at noon. that’s why she enjoys the pranks the twins play. they’re bold, sharp and reckless and have the undoubtable trademark of fred and george on them.

one too a many times she’s been on the receiving end of them. one time the twins had charmed the library so that she and other studious students could not find any books that they wanted or needed for a whole week. 

another time, her hair had been dyed bright pink. she wasn’t a fan of it, but tried her best to rock it. it worked. y/n had received many compliments on her bubblegum pink locks. 

she laughed it off a lot. whenever something quite embarrassing happened, it was usually funny. 

even the snide remarks the older twin always cast her way.

including the time he called her a blackhead. well, multiple times. 

“oi, l/n, looking like a blackhead.”

george had rolled his eyes at his brother before adding kindly, “at least you have nice hair. your tie’s always shiny too.”

she had just laughed, “at least i’ve got the blackhead looks to pull pink hair off, weasley, you can’t even pull off ginger hair, and thanks, georgie. love ya.”

fred had looked taken aback, but y/n still scowls at the memory. she gets she isn’t pretty, but there is a line you don’t cross when trying to insult someone.

he always calls her the most awful nicknames too; body parts that align with her name and random pieces of rubbish she isn’t bothered to remember.

she shakes herself of her thoughts and draws herself up, knocking thrice on the door lightly.

“come in,” mcgonagall’s calm tone beckons.

“good afternoon professors!” she chirps, smiling at all three.

they smile back. even snape. they’re big fans of the girl, who’s studious but mischievous. albus dumbledore has always thought that y/n’s eyes always look like all she’s seen is a beautiful sunset. 

“now you must wonder why i called you here,” mcgonagall starts.

“you see, how have you punished the weasley twins when they play all those pranks on you?” dumbledore eagerly asks. 

y/n gives a light laugh, “i just prank them back. i won’t get detention for this, right?” she jokes.

they laugh, “of course you will,” snape jokes back and for a second y/n is surprised that severus snape, the ever so cold potions professor, is cracking jokes. especially to her. 

“well then, i guess i can’t tell you how i prank them back then,” she drawls dramatically.

“no, no, do tell, we’re, what do you young people say?” mcgonagall pauses, “ahh yes! we’re all ears!”

y/n bursts out laughing, “okay, i usually do something that’s subtle enough but still very noticeable. they need to be anonymous too, or that’ll start prank wars and i’m only looking for short term pleasure really. one time, i dumped a whole bunch of polyjuice potion in both their little goblets. fred became george and george became fred. they were so confused.”

mcgonagall is impressed. 

“can you bake?” dumbledore asks and y/n shakes her head for a long time. 

“can’t bake for my sanity.”

“awesome. that is what i thought too,” dumbledore answers and y/n smiles. 

a single knock sounds. it’s proper and formal. 

“come in!” mcgonagall yells.

draco malfoy in all his glory steps into the room, eyes alight with concern, ever so indifferent. 

y/n knows him from quidditch. they’ve become relatively good friends, though she thinks he is very busy with his home life. she also knows that there’s more to him than the facade he has.

“afternoon,” he nods and gives a charming smile. 

“now, draco, i understand your mother had enrolled you in baking classes,” snape says. 

draco nods. 

“you must bake a cake,” mcgonagall hands him the cake mix.

she hands y/n the box of fireworks and winks. 

“good day professors! make sure to be at breakfast tomorrow!” y/n shouts, dragging draco with her to the kitchens. 

soon draco is laughing with y/n, at her atrocious puns and lightly placed jokes, finding himself very much happy. he’s not interested in her romantically, he simply enjoys her company. he’s even sharing some funny stories of his own too.

“...and i told him, to precisely fuck off.”

“so that’s how you deal with him!”

“oh no, he didn’t stop. he kept bugging me.”

“what did you do then?”

“i cast a muffliato charm on him.”

y/n bursts into laughter as they pass the gryffindor common room, quickly hiding the box of fireworks in her cloak as she spots two red heads quietly snickering by the fat lady. 

they notice the unlikely pair scurrying down the stairs. 

“hey, google eyes!” fred shouts. 

y/n doesn’t know fred well enough to decide if that greeting is dedicated to herself, so she continues upon her way. 

“weasley,” draco states. 

“huh?” y/n fakes oblivion. 

draco jerks his head in the way of the twins, where fred is smirking handsomely, leaning against the wall in a model-like fashion. 

george is shaking his head in dismay. 

“i said googly eyes!” fred shouts again.

y/n won’t lie, she thinks fred has undoubtedly good looks and his ginger hair is cute. he’s just a terrible person. to her, at least. she knows she’s biased, she’s often seen fred comforting ginny after a bad fight with a boyfriend, and from what she’s heard from alicia and angelina and katie, he’s funny too. 

she whips out her glasses and stares deadpan at him, before rolling her eyes and running with draco down the stairs, laughing like madmen.

they finish baking late at night, and waving her wand smartly over the cake, y/n produces a charm that will make the fireworks activate as soon as the cake is cut open. 

draco smiles as he pipes purple and orange roses, writing a ‘happy bday fred and george’ in chocolate letters. 

they add lots of sprinkles, hoping to seem like avid admirers of the twins. 

“does miss l/n and misters malfoy need any assistance?” a house elf asks.

draco just about opens his mouth to snap a ‘no’ when y/n gives him a silencing look.

“thank you rosemarie, but that is not needed, you are welcome to watch and talk with us though,” y/n politely answers, giving her a grin. 

the house elf sniffles, “miss l/n is too nice! rosemarie will make some hot chocolate for her! pretty hair!”

y/n laughs, “thank you very much, rosemarie. i think mister malfoy would also like some hot chocolate, with a tiny bit of firewhiskey, if that’s alright with you,” she winks at draco who just scoffs in reply. 

when they’re finished with the cake and the hot chocolate, y/n enters the gryffindor common room. angelina takes the cake and wraps it up in a box and nice wrapping paper. she sends it flying to the twins’ usual spot on the gryffindor table. 

“thanks angie!” y/n smiles, getting up from the cozy spot near the fire in the common room. 

“why are you going? we’re staying up till midnight for the twins’ birthday; wanna join?” angelina asks. 

y/n shakes her head, “i’m not too close with them, it seems like a rather intimate ceremony,” she keeps her words fluffy and light. really, she would join any birthday celebration, but she didn’t think she could handle the constant insults and annoying comments fred always made about her. and this would have been completely acceptable if she had done something to any one of the weasleys, but she hadn’t. she even regards ginny weasley as a little sister and was invited to one of ginny’s infamous slumber parties. okay, she might have a little crush on him for his joke-ish nature, but it’s nothing she can’t get over. he’s out of her league, for sure, she thinks. and terribly rude. she doesn’t understand why she still harbours those feelings for him. maybe because that time adrian pucey was mocking her for her ‘blood purity’ he stood up for her. or that time she hurt herself at quidditch and fred stayed up with her bandaging her wound. he cared when it mattered, she guesses. 

“i’m sure they would love you there.”

“fat chance,” she scoffs, “have a good night!”

she goes to her own dormitory up the stairs. she’s well known in gryffindor house, but for different reasons than the twins may be. although she’s close with angie and alicia, she’s not close with the twins. mainly because she’s always studying, playing quidditch, and doing prefect things. 

being on a quidditch team with fred weasley is bearable. mainly because she’s the captain. 

she’s stopped by a large hand on her shoulder. the owner of the hand swivels and suddenly a grinning fred is revealed. 

“where’re you going?” fred weasley’s annoying voice pronounces. 

“the sahara desert,” she snaps back dryly, “you’re in the way of my world exploration.”

“am i, really?”

“‘course,” she reigns her attitude in, “nice night, isn’t it?”

“for you? never.”

she scowls. fred watches in utter amusement as she takes a deep breath and charmingly smiles. 

“dearest freddie, will you please allow me to get to my dorm so i can have some sleep?”

fred’s heart skips a little at the nickname but shakes his head. 

“what’s the password?”

y/n sighs. “i don’t know. y/n is a blackhead. googly eyes. whatevers.”

fred lets out a loud laugh. y/n finds herself trying hard not to laugh with him. 

she turns around, ready to find her hufflepuff friend that has a spare bed in their dormitory, knowing fred is really stubborn.

“that’s not the password.”

“well, good night.” she walks off, before intensely diving in a style harry potter himself would be proud of, onto the stairs and running up the dorms laughing. 

fred stands at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open. 

“close your mouth, flies will be caught,” he heard the giggling voice of y/n.

“close yours and you’ll look better,” he insults back. 

“oh shut up. we know i’m the prettier one. and that’s saying something.”

the next morning, fred and george wake up to presents, a rowdy common room, and a nice cake sitting waiting for them on the gryffindor table. 

for the first time, y/n takes a seat opposite them, her eyes alight with the familiar mischief they always held. she steals glances at the professors, who were beaming down with interest, as if they shared an inside joke. draco malfoy has an odd smirk on his pale face. 

all eyes are on them as they cut open the cake. with a bang, fireworks come flying out of the cake in all directions, sending crumbs and icing flying in the air and leaving soot on the twin’s faces. their ginger hair is covered neatly with white icing and the fireworks continue for a calamitous five minutes. everyone’s too busy laughing and trying to dodge the flying cake to see that y/n l/n and draco malfoy are laughing quietly in a corner together, both with spells like umbrellas. 

fred’s eyes, however, are trained on y/n, who’s rolling over in laughter. he quickly casts a scourgify on himself and george, and strides casually over to her and malfoy, the usual lazy smirk on his face as he hears ‘draco ohmygosh that was the best. your cake decos are on point! d’ya think he’ll ever bully me again?’. that confirms his suspicions. she did play this prank on him. and it makes him feel fuzzy inside.

his face then contorts into a frown. she thinks he bullies her? 

“i wouldn’t say he bullies you, y/n.”

he smiles. never mind.

“but it isss! i can assure you, there is absolutely nothing nice ‘bout being called a frame!”

fred snorts at the time y/n had been gushing adorably over a picture frame that was embellished with gold and bronze flowers to angelina. he had went over and in an attempt to catch her attention, said ‘you’re a frame’.

sure, he was good at flirting, but not to the girls he really really liked. 

“that’s fucking funny,” malfoy laughs. 

“oh shut it draco, your face is funny. but yeah, i should probably ask him to start fresh.”

he decides to interrupt their conversation. 

“ask who to start fresh?” he butts in. 

y/n doesn’t even look surprised, “in fact, you, fred, because i’m not really sure if i’ve done anything wrong to you or anything, and by my memory i don’t think i have and you keep being rude and stuff. if i have, i’m really sorry for it and i’m sorry that i hurt you and all. if we can y’know, start over, and maybe be friends?” she catches the unreadable look in fred’s eyes and hesitates, “or maybe not, that’s okay, we don’t need to!” she gives a small laugh, “er, sorry for ever bringing it up?”

the earnestness of her tone and the wistful look in her eyes makes fred fall a little harder. ever since he saw her nervously fiddling with her robes in first year, he’s been smitten. 

there’s a silence. malfoy has slipped off, the sneaky bastard. 

fred simply takes y/n’s hand, giving her a look as if to ask for permission. 

she swallows and nods. 

they’re in the courtyard, which is sunny and light. flowers are blooming everywhere. 

“can i kiss you?” fred asks.

y/n’s eyebrows go up. “what?”

“can i kiss you?” fred repeats patiently. 

“as in kiss? k-i-s-s?” y/n asks, eyes wide with suspicion and curiosity.

“yep,” he chuckles, “crazy, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you’re crazy.”

“really? can i kiss you?”

“i’ve never really kissed anyone.”

“i guessed that.”

her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”

“there better be a good reason because i was saving it for someone special.”

“i need a yes, love.”

she huffs, “yes.” she won’t tell him that she has a crush on him, because to be honest, she still isn’t sure if this is a prank or not.

she surprised when fred tilts her head up ever so gently, a smile on his face.

this kiss is short and sweet. he tastes like cinnamon.

when they’ve let go, fred notices the light pink dusted over her cheeks. he smirks. 

“you have to tell me why you thought i’ve never kissed anyone,” she said, eyes flashing in deep thought.

“such a beautiful person as you does not deserve kisses from anyone.”

“...” 

fred took this as a sign to go on. “the reason i’ve always teased you endlessly is because i want your attention. i didn’t think you’d give it to me any other way. if you haven’t noticed, i’m in love with you. i think you’re absolutely beautiful, both ways. i love it when you frown and get annoyed, even if you rarely do, i love it when you study so hard your face makes this really concentrated look. i love it especially when you laugh and smile and joke and play pranks. even if they’re on me.”

“...” she was studying his movements. inside her brain, a frenzy was going on. part of her brain- the ever so optimistic part, was screaming happily, and the logical part was using body language to analyse whether he was lying or not.

eyes? their honey brown colour was glistening with affection and truth, an expression so dainty on his face. 

a quaint little smile was on his lips, a small one, a genuine one. it was different to all the other smiles she’d seen him smile. 

he wasn’t acting, she decided. if he was, he should take up a job in broadway. 

“y/n?”

her brows were furrowed. she’d never been confessed to as genuinely as this before. 

if they started this type of relationship would he still be mean and insult her all the time?

“i-i need time. to figure this out.”

he doesn’t look disappointed, she thinks. instead he looks down at her with... adoration?

“of course, sweetness, anything, i’ll wait for you.”

she smiles, “thank you, freddie.” 

☆

it’s been a few days since fred’s confessed to her. she’s still unsure if he was joking or not. why?

at this moment, she’s watching him giggle with angelina johnson. it seems like he’s forgotten everything and anything. he’s gotten closer to her. maybe he’s lost feelings for y/n? she can’t blame angie, she’s a wonderful girl. if he likes her, that’s fine too. suddenly her feelings for him become very clear. she like-likes him. and it’s a bit too late.

but maybe he doesn’t like angie in that way? maybe he’s still into her? 

y/n knows molly weasley raises her children with patience. she should trust that fred’s waiting for her. 

but then again, she’s never gonna be as special as angie johnson. she’s just a ever so polite and outgoing nerd. someone who’s foolish enough to prank. angie’s smart, confident and funny and terribly patient. and effortlessly beautiful. she’s got the true gryffindor touch. and angie’s been one of fred’s best friends since day one. she’s always gonna be number 1. 

that’s ok. she’ll accept it. she likes angie anyway. it was probably a joke anyway. 

she couldn’t be jealous, just a bit dismayed that it wasn’t genuine. whatever, she thinks. we can just go back to how we were before. or not. 

and it’s relatively easy. they never really saw much of each other anyway. she’ll get over this tiny little liking. 

it’ll just be like normal. none of this happened. none of it. she grimaces bitterly, damning fred for his stupid games. should’ve known this was another of his pranks. but his acting though, certainly very good. 

she smiles to herself.

“knock it off, y/n, you’re here to learn, not to love.”

and that answer, is satisfactory. 

she gets up from her spot on the gryffindor table rather abruptly, saying goodbye to her friends, and makes her way to the kitchens. she knows she won’t be alone, she’ll talk to hansel and gretel, the twins that cook with the house elves every dinner.

they’re cleaning up as she walks in, book in hand. 

“hi hans, g!” she calls, as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweater to help them with the dishes. 

“y/n!” gretel gives her a hug with soapy arms and y/n giggles.

“how are both of you?” y/n asks. 

“good, good, potions though...” hansel trails off and they all laugh.

“potions is always like that,” y/n agrees, “it’s supposed to be really hard for newts, so you can’t really blame the subject.”

“i’m thinking of dropping divination,” gretel says.

“yeah, that’s wise, gretel buns,” hansel teases and gretel scowls. 

“divination is an easy subject, gretel, you just need to make random stuff up. i saw this weird bear thing in polly’s tea leaves, it wasn’t in the textbook. i told trelawney it was a symbol that a stranger would come and whip polly off her feet, with a whip the colour of the rarest german emeralds, leaving her absolutely smitten. i got full marks,” y/n laughs. 

they laugh too, and soon a light flowing conversation is shared over cups of hot chocolate. 

this is repeated for quite a few days and y/n even invites polly, marla and lenox, her best friends, to join. it’s a delicate, nice kind of week, one that suits her current struggles. 

when the weekends roll around, hansel and gretel suggest that they all sit at the hufflepuff table. they share jokes and quips over the food, y/n reading a book as she bites happily into apple pie.

“pfft,” her lips upturn ever so slightly at the quote that the character makes. 

fred watches her from the gryffindor table, utterly confused. y/n’s been avoiding him. he sees the flashes of hurt that run through her eyes whenever she sees him, and the quick grin that’s far too fake that follows. she’s been reading a lot more and he never sees her anymore. 

he wonders what he’s doing wrong. so as he sees her walking with her friends to hogsmeade, he calls for her. 

“y/n!”

her friends giggle as they see him, but she gives him a fleeting glance and raises her eyebrows at them, shaking her head, before profusely apologising to each one of them.

she approaches him warily, with all practicality in mind. she leads with her heart, but her head protects her. 

fool me once, shame on you.

fool me twice, shame on me.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he states.

“what would you expect?” she snaps, “isn’t this all a good laugh for you anyway?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you know what i mean, this was all a joke, wasn’t it? fooling my poor little heart which you know has a crush on you. my head simply won’t allow it. admit it, and we can both move on with our lives,” her tone is sharp and cold, her eyes burning with fury and hurt, “i may seem gullible, and i am,” she gave a short laugh, “but when i notice, don’t even try to lie.”

“this wasn’t a joke, love.”

“don’t call me that, and you and i both know it is. your acting though, absolutely superb!” 

“what makes you think this was a prank, y/n? you were the one who asked for time.”

“yes, and the time made me realise that i had feelings for you despite all the teasing AND the fact you couldn’t possibly be genuine!” y/n says exasperatedly, her fury dissolving quickly, “you looked so in place with angie and everyone that it’s so obviously some sort of fun thing you did to try to get back at me!”

“angie?”

“a-and everyone else.”

“angie?” fred’s eyes were amused.

“you know, angelina, as in johnson.”

“angie?”

y/n shrugs, “you did bring her to the yule ball last year.”

“angie??!!!” fred was full on smirking now, as if trying to receive a real response. 

“i think you like her, okay?! are we done here? i’d very much like a good book from f&b,” y/n sighs. 

“i’ll accompany you to flourish and botts. why would you think i like her? didn’t i just confess to you?”

“yeah but it seemed kinda...” y/n trails off, not wanting her insecurities to come off as compliment fishing, “kinda far-fetched.”

“meaning?” fred knows exactly what she means.

“you know!” 

“oh but i don’t,” he smiles innocently.

“well, you’re you!” 

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he asks, faking a look of hurt rather well as y/n looks alarmed. 

“no, no, as in, you’re nice to look at, and you’ve always insulted me and been so nice and cool to everyone. are you for real?”

“nice to look at?” a cocky grin is on his face now, much more noticeable than the slight blush that was creeping up his face.

“is that the only thing you could pick up?” 

“nice to look at? what’s up with me repeating myself today?”

y/n lets out an agitated sigh. he doesn’t know, he’s blunt and straightforward. she likes cushioning her words.

“y’know, handsome? good looking?”

“my middle names.” another smirk to conceal the blushing. 

y/n smiles. “of course, everyone knows it.”

it makes fred uncomfortable. her light tone is a bit menacing too. 

“only joking.”

“i’m sure everyone does know it, darling.”

y/n is too busy looking at the dog that passes by to hear him, rambling quietly to herself over the cute scottish terrier.

“sorry, what was that?”

“aren’t i cuter than the dog?”

“nup.”

“really?” fred casually slings an arm over y/n’s shoulders, having to stoop a little lower to reach her.

“i think so.”

“well i’ll tell you something love, i think you’re absolutely stunning.”

“some love potion you’re on.”

“uh huh, the love potion is called love, sweetness.”

“so you’re for real?”

“as real as you and me.”

“you’re cheesy. this isn’t a prank right?”

“not at all, i love you.”

“i-i don’t think i love you just yet, but i think it’s possible,” y/n bites her lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

she tilts her head to look at him. 

he’s beaming. he looks more handsome than ever, a sweet smile etched on his face as he looks down at her in utter adoration.

“you have a crush on me!” he pulls her into a hug and giggles like a little girl, kissing the top of her head.

she’s engulfed by the smell of burning wood and cinnamon and immediately feels safe in his strong arms. 

“how’d you say we go on a date? so i can show how sorry i am for all the times i called you googly eyes and played pranks on you.”

“i’ll check to see if the girls are okay with it,” y/n replies, turning her head to see her friends. they’re gone. 

“they are. i asked them to shoo off before i approached you. is that a yes?”

y/n nods, “of course, freddie.”

“i love you.”

she laughs, “you really are april’s fool.”

“i’m your april’s fool.” 

he buries his nose in the crook of her neck to stop her from seeing his blushing red face.