#writingrealism

[quinnsqueries]

Why Do We Think Realism Is Dark?

When we, as people, classify a story as "realism" it's always super dark. It's always dark gritty action, and TONS of pain and misery. And like, why do we do that? Overall life can be hard and full of that stuff, but there is also positive things in life too! Like seeing your best friend for the first time in ages. Hugging someone after a long day. The first bite of a delicious breakfast. A lick of ice cream on a hot summers day. So why do we classify realism as dark?

Short answer: Realism isn't reality.

Let me explain...

Realism is another way of saying "acknowledging generally ignored negative consequences." Usually a superhero won't have to face the consequences for damage inflicted upon a fight, but a villain going to jail seems normal for us. Neither is technically worse than the other, so when a superhero is put on trial for their actions why does it feel so much worse than when the villain gets their punishment?

Realism shows us these consequences in a medium that doesn't generally support them. That makes them off-putting. And since these consequences tend to be negative the feeling they provoke end up being negative as well.

In fiction the only consequences you want to exist are the ones that exist. This is why what we have dubbed as "realism" is really only things that we generally ignore for the sake of the plot. If a superhero destroyed a town in the middle of a fight I don't think this would just be ignored. And if said superhero went broke because of a lawsuit they probably wouldn't put on their supersuit ever again.

What makes this trope interesting is that realism didn't start out this way. It was a 19th century idea that was actually pretty realistic! It ignored all the supernatural wackiness stuff and just portrayed reality. It was reallyyyyy boring though, so the term evolved. So, now when a director or somebody says they're "striving for realism" they're actually just taking an unrealistic premise and putting on the lens of reality and examining it to see what consequences a situation would have if it happened in real life.

Let's break this down even more. Because the "lens of reality" isn't just a singular lens, there's actually three of them.

The first lens is in relation to our reality. Physics, genetics, etc. In superhero worlds this is generally ignored, because well, explaining how characters can fly would just...not work in our world. But in hard sci-fi they do look at it pretty closely.

The second lens is realism in-world. The world you are writing has its own physics and genetics and pretty much everything else. This lens will examine the consequences based on what naturally arises in this world. What is it really like to live in the world you made?

The third lens is in the terms of psychology. This is what causes your character to drift over time. Want to give a character realism? Give em PTSD. Before that, well, it was making them addicted to alcohol. Because fun.

Remember, when using realism you have to also have consistency. You can't just throw it around whenever you want because it can make the audience feel as though you're cheating. Be careful, don't avoid reality up until a certain point, and yeah! Go writers!

[broken-balance-baby]

really wish i had ppl who gave a shit about my stuff 🫶

[harrytea]

That person creates and deletes blogs every week. They pretend to be someone with connections and when get exposed delete. It’s the second time already I see a blog of theirs and I recognise by their wording it’s the same person //

Yes, in the last two weeks they've been fakerry, writingreal, hsreality, and something before those that I forget, and today they're back as realtalkhs. It's obvious from the writing style that they're all the same person.

.

[writing-red]

The Emerald Manor | 5

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: It’s their sixth year, Draco and the reader are placed in an arranged marriage by their pureblood families, expected to follow through they navigate their feelings for each other amongst the many other social pressures at Hogwarts.

Warnings: major themes of physical and verbal abuse, maternal body shaming, nasty parents, mommy issues, daddy issues, jokes about suicide, I may even be missing some things

Word Count: 11k

A/N: self care is important if these warnings may trigger you please consider that chapter carries heavy themes, take care of your brain <3 also this is the longest thing I’ve ever written, she’s a beast

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

‘You and Draco shall be traveling from Hogwarts directly to Malfoy Manor. Since you will be meeting his parents before you see your father and I, I demand that you look presentable and remember the manners I’ve taught you. Your father and I will meet you at Malfoy Manor the night you return from school for dinner. As you will be staying with the Malfoy’s for the entirety of the Holiday, I will pack and send the clothing I find suitable for you to wear throughout this visit.’

The words from your mother’s letter rang in your head as the train pulled into London. As much as you hated everything she was putting you through for the sake of blood purity and her social status, you did not wish to incur her wrath. 

As you stepped off of the Hogwarts express and onto platform 9 3/4 on Draco Malfoy’s arm, you looked the part of the picture-perfect pureblood pairing. You were both matching in all black, your Gryffindor tie, and Gryffindor friends nowhere to be seen. If your mother were to see you, you could swear she would shed a tear. You were finally the young lady she had been grooming you to be since birth.

Draco led you out of King Cross Station to where a large black driverless carriage awaited both of you. Everything about the situation made you want to vomit off of the sidewalk and onto the street, but you took Draco’s arm as he helped you up the step and into the carriage. As hard as it was to admit it, you knew that Draco would be the safest person in your world for the next couple of weeks, and you would have to cling to that as hard as possible. You sat right next to him in the carriage, refusing to let go of his arm. You held his hand tightly in yours, reaching for any sense of security you could scavenge.

Draco knew you were afraid and that you would rather die than admit that to him, so instead of teasing or chiding you for it, he didn’t bother when you chose to sit next to him or when you refused to let go of him. He took the opportunity to make you feel safe. It’s all he’s really wanted to do anyway.

You had been to Malfoy Manor before, but it had been a while, every family takes turns hosting society events, and you were only ten the last time you attended one at the Malfoy’s. That had been the first year your mother had forced you into a corset, and that was about all you could remember about their estate. But when you rolled up to the gate, you wondered exactly how you could forget the lavish mansion. It was cold, looming, and dark, as was yours, the sharp wrought iron gates refusing entrance to anyone who didn’t make the cut. The stark white peacocks that stalked along the border of the estate offered more of a threat than any romantic reminder of nature, their cold eyes bored into as if to remind you that you would never fit in here.

Draco could feel anxiety rolling off of you as the carriage approached the manor, and he wanted with everything in him to cure it.

“Y/n,” he said in a whisper tone even though you were out of earshot from anyone who could be listening. “I know I haven’t been the best in the last month, but please know that I do care about you.” He could sense your disbelief. “I know you don’t believe me, I know that I haven’t given you a reason to, and I know that this doesn’t feel like the time. I’m sorry I don’t know how to say this. But, I am here for you through this. Please let me be.”

You knew that now wasn’t the time for an argument, that it wasn’t the time to ask why he hadn’t said this before you were walking in the doors of his house and not that morning in the courtyard when you had bared your heart to him, and he had ignored you, but as you were thinking, he interrupted you.

“Just nod, please, just show me that you understand,” he said, his tone desperate for some reason you couldn’t identify.

You nodded, maybe to placate him, or maybe, perhaps because this time you had heard him, even if it was just a little, it was enough to plant the prospect of trust.

“Alright,” he said and exited the dark, ornate carriage, offering his hand to you when he had landed on the ground.

You took his hand, more for emotional stability than physical. “Thank you, Draco,” you whispered into his ear, for his hand or his words from just moments ago, neither of you was sure.

Narcissa had been waiting for you outside of the entrance to the manor. She was clearly eager to see you and to see her son home from school.

“Mother!” Draco greeted, what seemed to be a genuine smile graced his face for just a moment. Narcissa took him in his arms and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. It was the briefest of interactions, but you could tell that she cared deeply for her son. “I know you have met her before, but this is Y/n, Y/l/n.”

“Yes,” her voice was kind and utterly elegant. “Darling, I haven’t seen you in years, you have grown into such a stunning young woman. Welcome back to our home.” Narcissa opened up her arms, and you welcomed the embrace, not remembering the last time you had received one from your own mother. You reveled in the short interaction even after she released you. “I am truly delighted to have you. And your mother sent your things yesterday, they are in your room.”

“Thank you for having me, Lady Malfoy. It is an honor to be invited into your home,” you said, speaking the words your mother had instructed you to say before.

“Please, call me Narcissa, there is no need for titles between us. And we are happy to have you,” she said, her features softening for a moment. “Now, come inside. I can’t risk you and Draco getting sick before the Holiday has even begun.” 

You followed Draco and Narcissa inside through the grand doors. The room was filled by cold light flowing in through the grand windows framed by black curtains, most of the stone floor was covered by an ornate rug, and there were two black stairways curving to the same location of the second floor, which from its spot far above you provided its own dark mystery. The manor was anything besides inviting, even the silver and green Christmas decorations were distressing in their coldness.

“We will be meeting down here for drinks at 7 tonight,” Narcissa informed you and Draco. “Y/n, that’s when your parents will be arriving. So Draco dear, why don’t you show Y/n up to the room across from yours, and you two can clean up before dinner.”

Draco nodded and gestured for you to take his arm again. As you did, you turned to thank Narcissa once more. “Thank you again, ma’am.”

She cut you off before you could finish, “Narcissa dear, please, I won’t have you calling me Lady, ma’am, or anything of the sort.”

You nodded and smiled, “thank you, Narcissa.”

Draco led you up the set of stairs to the right side of the entrance and down a dark hallway lit only by the occasional candelabra. It reminded you much of your own house, a dark museum dedicated entirely to your family’s great pureblood history. Draco showed you to a black door at the end of the hallway, across from another black door and near the only window in the corridor.

“Well, this is your room,” he said, gesturing to the door he had shown you to. “Apparently, you’re across from me,” he said, referencing the door not three feet away from you.

“I’m sure there’s some sort of underlying meaning there,” you said, trying to lighten the tension.

A smile graced Draco’s lips for just a moment before falling back into its usual stone near-scowl.

“I have to admit that I’m glad you’re close-by,” you said, so quiet he could barely hear you, quietly enough it was as if you weren’t even admitting it.

Draco hid the joy that bubbled in his heart when you muttered those words. “Well, I’ll leave you to get ready for dinner. We should head back downstairs at five-till.” He advised, and you nodded before he disappeared into his room, the door closing behind him.

The room was more comfortable than you had imagined it to be, even more, comfortable than the one you had at home. The walls were covered in green tapestries depicting nature, a black fireplace with a fire roaring inside rested against the wall across from the four-post bed that had what looked like the softest comforter in the world and a plush bench residing at its foot. On the floor beneath your feet was a perfectly soft grey carpet that laid over dark wooden floors. On the wall that housed the fireplace stood another black door that was open and led to an intricate bathroom, inside of which was a closet. But what took your breath away was the wall covered in bookshelves and a vast collection of stunning books. You could even spy a few muggle authors, which surprised you. 

If you could spend the entire Holiday in this room and not leave once, you would be content, although, as that sadly would not be your reality, you hauled yourself into the bathroom for a quick shower. You still felt sick to your stomach with nerves, and you were hoping that hot water would soothe you even just a bit. You didn’t spend long under the running water, nervous about the time, departing out of the shower, drying yourself, and stepping into the closet, you found a dark emerald green dress labeled ‘dinner, night one’ in your mother’s script, of course, she didn’t even trust you to pick out your own clothing. You drew the dress onto your body, holding your wand in your teeth as you willed magic to help you lace up the corset the way you knew your mother would expect it to look. You used the same guide for your hair and makeup, everything exactly as she would want, even though you were sure that you would find some way to fuck it up.

Just as you finished, you heard a soft knock land on your door. You opened the door to Draco, who was wearing a variation of the black suit you so often found him in, although you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly handsome he looked in it. And part of you didn’t want to stop staring at him. Part of you wanted to skip dinner and pull Draco into your room by his tie.

“Y/n, you look lovely,” he said kindly. “Emerald is a stunning color on you.”

“Thank you, Draco,” you said, a bit of blush rising to your cheeks. “You are quite handsome yourself.” 

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Will I ever be?” You said.

He didn’t have to verbally respond for you to know that he understood. He just offered your hand, led you back down the long dark hallway and down the stairs, which seemed steeper now that you were wearing heels. But Draco’s steady hand assured that you were ascending the stairs gracefully. You let out the breath you weren’t aware you had been holding in when you realized you had beat your parents to the first part of the evening. You could only imagine the lecture on tardiness your mother would be ready to deliver had you arrived after her.

“Darling, you somehow look even more beautiful than you did earlier,” Narcissa said when she caught sight of you. “Draco, did you tell your fiancée how lovely she looks this evening?” Narcissa asked, glancing at her son.

“It was the first thing I heard once I stepped out of my room,” you assured her, your cheeks reddening even more at the sound of her compliment.

“Good,” she said and smiled.

Impeccable timing as always your mother and father appeared in the Malfoy’s grand fireplace, your Mother and Father had clearly not spent a second thinking of anything but these two weeks for some time, they were both dressed perfectly for the event at hand, their sour faces completing their outfits.

“Layah, William,” Narcissa greeted them as old friends, which of course they were, your mother had been friends with Narcissa and Bellatrix back in their Hogwarts days, and your father was on many of the same boards as Lucius.

“Narcissa, thank you so much for having us and for inviting our daughter into your home,” your mother said, false kindness wrapping around her voice like a snake. “I hope she’s remembered her manners,” she shot you a glare, causing anxiety to roar in your stomach.

“Merlin, Layah, you’ve raised the perfect daughter! She’s been nothing but kind and pleasant since she arrived,” Narcissa assured her friend, not catching the look Layah had sent you. “This is my son Draco,” she gestured to Draco who was next to you, just across from her.

“Lord Y/l/n, Lady Y/l/n, it’s an honor to meet you again,” he said as he politely bowed his head now.

 “Come now, let us start with drinks in the sitting room,” She said, showing the party into a somewhat smaller sitting room. The room was covered in silver, art, and luxurious furniture you were sure came from the 18th century, which was arranged perfectly for conversation. You found yourself sitting on a love seat with Draco on Narcissa's instruction, which didn’t surprise you much.

A house-elf came in and began handing out drinks as the conversation started, mostly between your mother and Narcissa, Draco, and your father. You didn’t mind being ignored. You simply held your glass tightly and tried to not be sick.

“So, Y/n, Draco tells me you’re a wonder at potions!” Narcissa said, startling you a bit as you weren't expecting to be drawn into the conversation.

“Well, Professor Snape has been a fantastic teacher, and I really spend most of my time at school studying anyways,” You could only think that if you were at the Burrow, Fred and George would be cackling at the lies you were boasting. You were more likely to spend time running around getting into trouble than study.

“She really just is modest, Mother,” Draco said. “She’s the reason I have such good marks in the class this term.”

You smiled sweetly, unsure otherwise of how to respond. It didn't help that you and Draco knew that Hermione was undoubtedly the best in your year, but that wasn't the point here.

“Darling, don’t sell yourself short. Coming from a family like yours, I am sure you are an incredible witch,” Narcissa said.

“Thank you, ma’am,” you said and gave her a respectful bow of your head, intent on displaying the manners you had been taught and that were expected of you.

“Now, Draco, I am curious what you wish to do once you leave Hogwarts,” Your father interjected. You could only presume that he was uncomfortable with the compliments being offered to you.

The conversation continued on, you remained mostly ignored, and as your drink refilled itself a second time, you found yourself feeling a bit more at ease. While you weren’t aiming to get drunk, you were trying to rid yourself of those pesky nerves eating at your stomach. As you calmed yourself, the house-elf returned to call the party to dinner. You silently reminded yourself to get her name when you could. You were sure she experienced nothing but cruelty here.

As you rose from the love seat, you were sure to remember all of the perfect ladylike manners your mother had been sure to instill in you. Taking Draco’s hand when he offered it and leaving your glass on its coaster, you would most likely be having wine with the meal, and it would be considered rude to bring along a dirty glass. You knew that you would never forget these stupid little societal rules no matter what happened with your life. You sat at the incredibly made-up dining table next to Draco, which you knew was intended to encourage you two to make conversation. After everyone was seated, conversation resumed, but it wasn’t until the second course arrived that your mother finally mentioned the wedding.

“Narcissa, I do believe you’ve landed on a date for this summer?” Layah asked.

“Yes, I thought that the 22nd of June would be lovely seeing that it’s the longest day of the year,” Narcissa said. “Y/n, what do you think?”

“That sounds perfect,” you agreed. Of course, nothing about this wedding was perfect, but you knew better than to oppose. “Summer is my favorite season, and the Summer Solstice has always been special to me.” What you were saying was true. You had always loved the heat, joy, and magic of the day.

“Lovely, we’ll work on getting out the necessary notifications this week,” Narcissa said, and you nodded.

“You two have made quite the match,” your father said to Layah and Narcissa. Of course, he would approve of Draco, he was everything William wished his son had been. “Y/n, I hope you realize how lucky you are.”

Underneath the table, you clenched your nails into your palm, breaking the skin on your hand as you tried to brush off your father's remark.

“I’m glad you approve, sir,” Draco said, dismissing his second statement.

Dinner continued on, snide remarks occasionally coming from your mother after you would speak, and constant praise to Draco from your father. However, Draco and Narcissa acted as a barrier of sorts from your parent's attacks, which made the whole thing just a little bit more bearable. When dinner ended, Draco and your father left to smoke, which was expected, and Narcissa invited you and your mother back to the sitting room for tea.

“Y/n, Layah, I was wondering what you were thinking for Y/n’s dress,” Narcissa asked as you sat back down on the loveseat.

“I did not have anything in mind,” your mother said.

“Well, my family has a very old tradition where the mother passes her dress down to her daughter,” Narcissa started.

“Oh, Narcissa, I’m sorry to say I don’t have my dress any longer.”

“See, the thing is I still have mine, which had, of course, belonged to my mother, her mother, and so on, and since I don’t have a daughter, I was wondering if you would like to wear it Y/n?” said Narcissa, sure to direct the question away from your mother and towards you.

“Narcissa, I would be honored!” You chirped, your face lighting just a bit with a genuine smile, the motherly love she had extended to you in the last seven hours was more than you had experienced in your life, and you would be happy to have a piece of her with you in the ceremony.

“Dear, I doubt it will fit,” your mother said to you, that evil faux smile on her lips.

“I’m sure it will!” Narcissa said, her excitement shining through her smile. “Anyways, isn’t that what magic is for, Layah?”

“Sure, Narcissa,” your mother drawled as she shot her friend one of those cold snake-like smiles. “Narcissa, would you mind if I stepped out with my daughter for a second?”

“No! Of course, I forgot you haven't seen her in so long, please stay here. I’ll go check in on the gentlemen,” she said and left swiftly. 

You wanted to beg her to stay. You wanted to scream and cry and demand that she not leave you alone with your mother, but that would only end you in more trouble than you could possibly be in now.

“Merlin, Y/n, you’ve put on weight. Are you not exercising at school? Just because you’re betrothed doesn’t mean you stop taking care of yourself, foolish girl,” she said the second Narcissa was out of earshot.

“Sorry, mother,” you cast your eyes to the floor.

Your mother rose from her seat, she’s a tall woman with harsh features, and she loomed over you when she made her way over to the love seat. 

“Stand,” she said, and you did so instantly and with grace. “I’ve been told that you’ve been acting decently for once in your pathetic life,” the witch said as she inspected you, from the way you tied your corset to the curls in your hair, you kept your eyes on the floor, staring at the tips of your shoes. Suddenly she grabbed your chin with as much force as you believe she possessed and drew your face up so that you would be forced to make and keep eye contact with her. “If you screw this up, I promise you will not live to see the Summer Solstice, do you understand me?”

You drew in a breath, which was a mistake, a sign of weakness. 

She released your chin, and with the opposite hand struck you across the face. “I asked you a question, now answer it.”

“Yes, ma’am, I understand,” you said, and you drew your hand up to cover the red mark that was forming on your cheek: your skin prickling and a headache seeping into your skull from the force of the strike.

“Good,” she said as she brushed her hands off on her skirt as if to rid herself of any filth she may have picked up from you. “Your father and are leaving for work for the next few days, although we plan on returning Wednesday for lunch, stay about your wits until then. Am I understood?”

You nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

With that, she swept out of the room, her expensive black dress accentuating her exit. As she left, Draco came in the way she had exited. Seeing you holding your cheek with your eyes cast to the ground, he hurried over to you in concern.

“Y/n, did anything happen?” he asked, his tone as rushed as his entrance.

You shook your head ‘no.’ 

“Darling-”

“Draco, I’m fine,” you hissed, dropping your hand and looking up at him. The mark from the strike remained, and he saw it clearly. You took a moment to calm yourself. But you couldn’t help but feel guilty for your harsh tone when you caught his eye, the same eyes you had agreed to trust, at least while you were here, “I'm sorry, I just wish to go to bed if you don’t mind.”

He shook his head to give you a silent, yes. He had only seen you act like this up close and personal once when he pissed you off just that past week, but even in that, you had a beautifully bold and courageous anger about you that seemed to spark cherry red. This was different. Of course, he had seen you at events when you were both young, but you hadn’t attended them in recent years, and you acted far differently at Hogwarts. Even around him and his friends, you were yourself, even when he sought ways to piss you off. He thought back to the playful banter you had with Blaise just this morning, which felt like ages ago, or the fire you spat at him when he invaded dinner at the Gryffindor table. Here, in the presence of your parents, you were in a state of survival and fear. He was finally starting to see why you had been so afraid of him and this whole marriage. To you, he embodied everything you were afraid of, everything that kept you from living your life in fear of it being taken away. Should you say the wrong thing, wear the wrong dress, or use the wrong fork, befriend the wrong person, it would cost you. You were someone else here. He recognized the look of fear you had when the silver letter landed between you two, that night of the party all the way back in September, and even that morning in the courtyard when he refused to hear out your fears, preferring to remain ignorant to his own petty feelings. 

“Can I walk you up to your room?” He simply asked, now wasn’t the time to pry. He would have to prove to you that you could trust him, and that would take time.

You merely nodded and took his arm as it was offered to you. Draco showed you out of the room where your parents were all saying their goodbyes.

“You two should be heading up to bed now, especially after such a long day of traveling,” Narcissa noted.

“Yes, mother,” he said and gave polite nods to your parents. “Sir William, Ma’am, it was a pleasure getting to know you tonight. Thank you for joining us, and thank you for allowing Y/n to stay for the Holiday.”

“Please, Draco,” your mother started. “William and I are so often out of the house for work that she would have been alone most the time, and we can’t have that, can we?” She elicited a grotesque little giggle, to which everyone politely responded with smiles despite the thinly veiled insult.

You watched as your father took your mother's hand, “well goodnight Draco, Narcissa,” He said to the two, then his eyes landed on you, his tone shifting from polite to the one you were so used to hearing him use, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, father, mother,” you said as they disappeared into the grand fireplace.

“Well, I won’t keep you two. I’m sure you need to sleep after today,” Narcissa said. “Goodnight, both of you.”

“Goodnight,” you and Draco said together before you parted ways, and Draco led you back up the set of stairs to your rooms. You released his arm and disappeared into the darkness without a word, the effects of the day settling heavily on your shoulders.

Sunday passed with little activity. You mostly took the day to explore the manor with Draco as Narcissa was busy running errands throughout the whole day. You were excited to find the library in the manor filled to the brim with old books. They were, of course, all wizard-written, although most of them seemed to have not been opened in a couple of generations. The fireplace alongside the comfortable leather chairs and the grand windows made it the perfect space to read. It seemed to be the only other comfortable room you found in the space. It was the last room Draco showed you on the extensive tour, and you both spent the rest of your day in the library. You went between reading and writing out details of your break thus far in letter format to your friends. You were hopeful that you may find the opportunity to sneak them out some way, and you didn’t want to forget a detail when you did get a chance to recount the events of your holiday. Draco, who sat across from you in his own chair, had a spread of books and charts along with a notebook that was clearly well used. You didn’t bother him with questions about what he was doing as you enjoyed the opportunity to sit in peace. In fact, it was the first time the two of you were able to occupy a space together without finding your way to one another’s throats.

Monday morning, you awoke on your own despite the darkness of the room. You took your time getting ready, allowing yourself to remain in the peaceful space as long as you could. You found a casual dress your mother had packed for you. Of course, there wasn’t a single pair of pants in sight. God forbid you have an ounce of comfort over these next two weeks. After you got ready, you realized you weren’t entirely sure of what you were meant to be doing or where you were supposed to be. You decided to walk downstairs and find breakfast. You made your way downstairs and through the maze of the house, through the dining room and sitting room till you finally reached the kitchen. Already inside was a house-elf, different from the one who had served dinner last night, hard at work cooking, and beyond him, you could see Draco sitting in a breakfast nook, eating. You slowly made your way over to him and took a seat across from him.

“Good morning,” you said as you sat down next to him.

“Good morning,” he said and smiled at you. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you. I just figured I’d let you sleep.”

You shook your head, “Don’t apologize. It was nice.”

“Are you hungry?” He asked, and you responded with a nod. Shortly a plate with toast, poached eggs, and fruit appeared right in front of you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you began to eat.

The two of you sat in silence as you both ate your breakfast, you didn’t have anything to say, and Draco didn’t know what to say. This lasted about fifteen minutes and was only interrupted by Narcissa entering the kitchen.

“I’m so glad you two are here,” she said when she saw both of you.

“Good morning, mum,” Draco said, and you echoed him.

“We are going to Diagon Alley today, and we are going to get both of you fitted so that Madam Malkin can start adjusting your clothes for the wedding,” she explained. “Then, I thought the two of you could get lunch in London once we were done.”

You and Draco nodded, “Sounds lovely,” you said.

“Perfect, we’ll leave in an hour,” Narcissa said, then left the kitchen, likely to prepare for the trip.

You were excited to go to Diagon Alley. You hoped you would be able to sneak into the twins' store and, at the very least, see Fred and George, who you missed dearly now that you hadn’t seen them in nearly a year now. You also figured that you would be able to sneak them your Although, you limited your expectations, not wanting to get your hopes up if you couldn’t make it. The hour passed quickly, and at precisely 11:23 in the morning, the three of you utilized the grand fireplace to floo to Diagon Alley. The whole place was cold, so many shops had been boarded up, lights were out in many shops, although you found a slice of joy when you saw the lights up in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. You didn’t have much time to look as Narcissa quickly whisked both of you into Madam Malkin’s. It wasn’t until you were inside that you noticed the large black garment bag Narcissa had been carrying, something you could only assume to be the dress she was passing on to you.

“Draco, you go run your errand first while Y/n tries her dress on,” Narcissa said before you even went in and he nodded, clearly not wanting to argue with his mother on this one. While you wanted to see where this errand was taking him, Narcissa turned you around and gently pushed you inside of Madam Malkin’s shop.

“Ah, Lady Malfoy! I’ve cleared out my whole afternoon for you two. I take it we have a very special project at hand,” Malkin said as you entered. “Give her here,” she said regarding the dress, which she indicated by holding out her arms.

Narcissa softly handed over the wedding dress. Madam Malkin hung it up on a nearby garment rack, unzipping the black bag revealing a stunningly elegant white gown in impeccable condition. “Let’s get this on you, dear,” she said, ushering you over, and you complied quickly. 

It took both her and Narcissa to get the dress on you due to the sheer weight of the thing, but once it was on, it fit nearly perfectly. But Madam Malkin flitted around you, taking notes, making marks, poking you when you moved, and making suggestions to Narcissa about changes that would better accentuate your figure. You just stood there and let the two of them make the decisions. You didn’t feel that you had much of a stake in the wedding anyways. What more was the dress? Eventually, however, they separated you from the dress, Malkin placing it back in the garment bag and zipping it up so that when Draco returned, he wouldn’t see it, not that it mattered much. Your marriage had been doomed from the start.

“Dear,” she interrupted your thoughts. “I’ll schedule one more fitting with you when it’s done. Lady Malfoy was saying the wedding will be in late June?”

“Summer Solstice,” you said. “But Narcissa is doing most of the scheduling since I’m still in school, so it may be better to schedule the fitting with her.” You felt bad for deflecting, but you genuinely didn’t know much of anything going on with this event.

“Oh, of course, I’ll be sure to do that,” she said, and as you turned to leave, she stopped you. “I noticed you were quiet during the fitting, is there anything you’d like included in the dress? It is your wedding, isn’t it?”

“I love peonies,” you said, then turned to leave, not wanting to speak about the dress anymore, it playing to your anxieties for some reason. When you reached the front door of the shop, you were met by Draco and Narcissa, who had gone to retrieve him while you were changing. “I’m sure it’s just as bad for the bride to see the groom in his wedding ware,” you said to Narcissa. “Would you mind if I stepped out for a moment?”

“No, darling go right ahead,” she said, and as you exited, you caught Draco’s eyes. While you may have fooled his mother, you knew in that second you hadn’t fooled him. It was clear that he knew you pretty well, but you quickly made your way out of the shop and down the alley.

When you were sure they couldn’t see you, you slipped into a practically empty Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, devoid besides two quintessential red-heads.

“Y/n!” You heard Fred’s energetic and happy voice from the top of the shop.

“Come quickly, I haven’t long,” you urged, although instantly regretting your request as each of the twins apparated only a centimeter away from you on each side.

“What’re you doing here?” George asked.

“Getting Narcissa Malfoy’s old wedding dress fitted for my wedding,” you whispered as if you were worried that she could hear you.

“No,” the two whispered in unison, to which you nodded in confirmation.

“Draco is getting his robes fitted, and I used the whole bad omen thing as an excuse to sneak out. I just wanted to see you two,” you said. You had begun breathing easy again for the first time in twenty-four hours.

“We’re happy to see you, Y/n,” George said, all sense of humour aside.

You pulled four letters out of your pocket on the inside of your coat, “These are for you two, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione if you can get it to her.”

“Ron doesn’t get one?” Fred asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

“I figured he and Harry would share I didn't have all that much time,” you answered. “I had ought to be going. Please send letters once I’m back at school I’ve missed both of you.”

“We’ll send you half the store-” George started

“-A care package,” Fred finished his thought, and you pulled the twins into a hug.

“Stay strong,” they said from either side of you.

“Stick to what you know is right,” Fred said.

“We know William would be proud of you,” George said. The twins had known your brother well since he had been a close friend of their older brother Bill's. William had been a Gryffindor as well, and he played quidditch alongside Bill. He had been the reason why doing something other than what your family had set out for you could even be perceived as an option. 

“Thank you,” you whispered before disappearing out of the door. It was relieving to see them even for just that moment, and you were comforted when you noticed that Draco and Narcissa hadn’t ventured out of Madam Malkin’s just yet. You took the time you had left to rush into Flourish and Blott’s, a place they would expect to find you in. Of course, not long after you hurried in, Draco sauntered in, finding you in the potions section near the front of the store.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he said, not mentioning the look you had shared earlier, and you nodded.

“Call me predictable, but I do love books,” you again found yourself lying through your teeth.

“Well, my mother has returned to the manor. She expects us to go get lunch if you’re up to it.”

“Absolutely,” you said, the hesitance on your voice obvious.

“But?” He asked.

“Would you mind if we went and picked up a couple of pants, my mum didn’t pack me any, and I just really hate how cold my legs get in these dresses,” you said, gesturing to the dress and tights you were currently wearing.

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” he said, and you perked up a bit. “I just don’t know where to go.”

“I’ve got somewhere you’ll love,” you said, and being that money is of no consequence to either of you, you showed Draco to Bond St. somewhere you only knew of because of a shopping-obsessed cousin of yours.

You found it surprisingly amusing shopping at muggle stores with Draco. You were both well respected in the shops you entered, which you assumed him to appreciate, along with the clothes' general quality and style. You enjoyed picking out clothing for him, finding a particular oversized black turtleneck and tight slack duo a bit enticing. 

Draco, while enjoying the fashion, also enjoyed seeing you loosen up. He was aware you had slipped into the Weasley’s shop, but it didn’t bother him as much now that he was able to see you relax just a little bit with him. Indeed he didn’t find it boring to watch you trying on incredibly beautiful clothing, and he loved sneaking money too whoever was helping you and surprising you with the purchase. At this point, he didn’t know how to express his love to you otherwise, and he wanted to do so; however, he possibly could.

This went on for longer than either of you anticipated, although it was more fun than tiring or boring. Eventually, once you had made it through your last store, you finally made it to the restaurant you had been meant to go to in the first place. It wasn’t long before you were seated, your many bags stowed in coat-check. 

“I have to admit today’s been more, well, fun than I assumed it would be,” you said as you opened the menu.

“I’m glad,” Draco said, an unmistakably kind smile on his face.

A waiter came to your table relatively quickly, “Good evening.” 

“Good evening,” you greeted kindly.

“I am afraid you will not be needing these menus as today you are being treated by the Chef,” the waiter informed as he collected the menus from you. “Any allergies we should be aware of?”

“None,” Draco said and smiled, “Thank you.”

“Of course, sir, I’ll be back shortly with drinks.”

“This really is lovely, Draco,” you said as you settled into your seat.

“Anything for you,” he said and smiled at you.

You couldn’t help but question him again for just a moment, was this more of that image you had promised to maintain, but there was no one to prove your relationship to. Could it be genuine, could it be that he lied to you that morning in the courtyard?

The dinner continued on in the same pleasant fashion as your day had. You and Draco exchanging banter as you had earlier. You both took your time with each other and with the evening, allowing yourselves for once to truly enjoy the other's presence. It helped that the food was incredible and the atmosphere utterly romantic. The lights dim, and the sound of sensual jazz playing live, allowing your senses to fizz along with the music like the champagne in front of you. At the end of the night, Draco didn’t even consider letting you pay, although you promised to get him back, which he believed. Being that the coat-check was run by a very kind witch, you didn’t have to worry about your bags.

“I guess we have to go back now,” you said, clearly not too happy about that fact as you both exited the restaurant as you made your way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

“Look, I know I haven’t been the best to you in the past, but I’m here for you. Alright? Whatever you need, I’ve got you,” Draco said, the sympathy in his voice still slightly jarring.

You reached out, took his hand, and smiled weakly. Not only were thoughts of your parents approaching lunch on your mind, but you were beginning to believe him. “Thank you, Draco.”

“You two must have had an eventful day,” She said, referring to the bags that arrived before you along with your late arrival time.

“I thought I’d take my girlfriend out on a proper date,” Draco said, placing a kiss on your cheek, causing a soft blush to rise up.

“Well, I’m glad you two had a good day,” Narcissa said and smiled.

“Yes, thank you for the suggestion,” you nodded.

“So, tomorrow, a wedding planner will be here to meet with Y/n and I for the full day,” she said to you. “So Draco, you can work on those errands we had spoken about.”

There were those errands you had heard mention so many times, which you found never failed to make Draco tense up.

“Alright, well, I’ll be off to bed. I was just waiting up to see you home safely,” Narcissa rose, closing her book as she left the room, the tea following her up the stairs.

You were left in the foyer with Draco, and neither of you were sure what to say. 

“Well, it seems we both have another full day ahead of us,” he said after a moment of silence. “So, we should probably head upstairs.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” you nodded, still so close to him you were alarmed by the tension between you too.

“Today was nice,” he said. “I really enjoyed spending time with you.”

You nodded again. It felt like your brain was turning to mush as all you could smell was him, his musky cologne, and minty shampoo intoxicating. The darkness of the manor seemed to close around the two of you, lit only by the fire you were standing in front of. 

“Let me walk you up to your room,” Draco said, offering you his hand, which you kindly took, escorting you to your door, departing once you disappeared inside.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Here he was again, soft, kind, and caring, and so incredibly confusing. A part of you loved being around him, joking with him, throwing playful insults back and forth, and merlin you couldn’t get over his cologne or how badly you wanted to run a hand through his perfect platinum blonde hair. But another part of you couldn’t help but see the cruel bully who didn’t mind making your life as hellish as possible, who didn’t think twice before shouting your private life out for the entire school to hear, and you couldn’t help but question whether or not everything he said to you was a lie or was the truth. Not to mention those mysterious meetings and errands. Eventually, your busy mind found sleep, although you found yourself shooting awake every so often due to terrible nightmares. You couldn’t sort them out but images of your father standing over you while you sat in a pool of your own sharp red blood, a sea of well-dressed purebloods at your wedding with Voldemort looming over you and Draco. Every time you awoke, you were nervous that you had awoken Draco. Although you had no evidence, you had awoken the other girls in your dorm with your screams more than a few times in the past six years.

You awoke, absolutely exhausted from the sleepless night, but you dragged yourself out of bed, wanting not to be late for your appointments with Narcissa and the wedding planner, although, after yesterday, you were sure that the two of them would be making most of the decisions while you looked pretty and nodded in agreement on topics that made you feel sick. You donned a perfectly simple yet elegant black dress and headed downstairs in the hope of finding breakfast and, more importantly, tea. You found Draco sitting in the same spot you had found him in yesterday and the day before eating a green apple.

“Good morning,” you greeted as he swallowed the bite he had just taken.

“Good morning. Did you sleep, alright?” He asked, his voice laced in concern revealing to you that he may be aware of your restless night.

You resigned to nodding, unsure of how to answer, and not wanting to outright lie but also not wanting to reveal your nightmares in the middle of the kitchen. 

“I got this for you,” Draco said, sliding a book towards you. Your screams had awoken him a few times through the night, but he chose to ignore your dismissal of his question, trusting that you would come to him when you needed him.

“What is it?” You asked, picking up the old book and examining the cover.

“Open it,” said Draco softly.

You did as instructed, finding an envelope inside addressed to Draco from Theodore Nott. You were puzzled but opened it up to find parchment covered in Harry’s messy scrawl.

Dear Y/n

You peeked at the beginning of the letter, excitement raging in your stomach. “Draco, how-” you whispered, your tone shifting back to the one he was used to hearing from you.

“Read it later,” he said smartly, and you nodded, tucking the letter back into the book. “I’m sure there’ll be more, but that one came this morning.”

You caught his eyes and held eye contact with him, all sincerity falling over you, “Draco, thank you, I know this, that my friendship with them isn’t easy for you. You don’t know what this means to me, what you doing this for me means.”

Your words struck Draco, he knew you’d be happy, but he didn’t consider entirely what it would mean to you. He was so deep in his thoughts, he was deeply startled by the kiss you placed on his cheeks. Although momentary, he knew he’d never forget the feeling of your soft lips on his face. The moment absolute bliss, he simply craved another when you stood back up. He wished he would grab your hand, pull you down onto his lap and kiss you back properly, but he wanted to give you the time you deserved. This touch, unlike many you had exchanged, was genuine.

“Anything for you, Y/n,” said Draco. They were the only words that he could think to say.

“Oh no, am I interrupting a moment?” Narcissa asked, half-way through her entrance to the kitchen. 

You snapped the book shut, and straightened yourself up, the kiss you gave Draco affecting you more than you thought such a modest action could possibly affect you. 

“No! Don’t worry, Draco was just surprising me with a book I didn’t think I’d be able to get otherwise,” you said, your words thinly veiled to the boy sitting next to you.

Narcissa smiled, excited that you two were getting on so well. “Well, I am sorry to interrupt, but we have an appointment in the sitting room.”

“Of course,” you said before turning to Draco. “Thank you again, Draco, have a lovely day.”

“You as well, darling,” he said and smiled back at you, watching intently as you left the kitchen alongside his mother. 

He couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy wash over him as he saw you redraw your walls as you walked away. This wasn’t the life you deserved, and he could only feel that he was locking you into it, but somehow at the same time, he was your last chance at survival, and as you had pointed out in September, it could’ve been several guys, but he was glad it had been him. He sat with his thoughts for a while longer before rising to get about the terror of a day he had ahead of him.

Your day wasn’t much better. The sea of colors, choices, flowers, linens, menu options, types of chairs, different styles of canopies, and the list only seemed to grow every time you thought you’d reached the end. At the very least, the planner was sensible and didn’t talk your ear off about how exciting it was for you to get married. It was as if she understood that you, as a sixteen-year-old, wasn’t exactly anticipating this nor expecting it to be the best day of your life. Nevertheless, there was a mountain of things to get done. Narcissa helped with it all, honestly, she was more excited about the whole thing than you were, but you didn’t mind. The woman had shown you nothing but kindness, and her happiness brought a bit of lightness to your dark world.

“And I have a list of Master Malfoy’s groomsmen, but not your bridesmaids, ma’am,” the planner, Alexandra, directed this statement to you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You hadn’t considered bridesmaids, and the thought of having anyone but Hermione, Ginny, and Luna with you made you want to burst out in tears. But it was evident that you couldn’t have them. “I guess, Pansy Parkinson, and Astoria Greengrass,” you paused, entirely unsure of anyone else you knew who wouldn’t be murdered for stepping foot at this event.

“Well, your fiancé only has three groomsmen, so you really only need one more,” she noted, and you looked to Narcissa for help. 

“My cousin’s daughter, Ismelda Rosier, is coming, and I’m sure she’d love to be a bridesmaid,” Narcissa said, smoothly saving you, and you released a silent breath of relief which admittedly didn’t last long as the thought of spending your wedding celebrating with two girls you hated and one you didn’t know settled in your mind.

You continued sorting through the many tasks till darkness fell, and you were interrupted by your knight in shining armor, Draco. 

“I think eggshell linens would be lovely,” he said as he entered the sitting room, approaching the table the three of you had gathered at. “Pardon my interruption, but dinner is ready. Will you be joining us, Miss-”

“Alexandra Frey,” she introduced herself. “No, but thank you for the invitation. I’ve got lots of work to do, Mrs. Malfoy. I’ll be back next week, the same day?” 

Narcissa nodded, “Thank you for your time Alexandra, we’ll see you next week.”

You stood and made your way to Draco, excited to get away from the headache you’d spent your day dealing with. “You are my knight in shining armor,” you whispered in his ear. “If I had to talk about napkins for one more second, I’m going to find a window.” 

Draco laughed quite loudly, causing Narcissa to sharply turn around, “What are you two giggling about?” She asked although a smile was on her face.

“Mother, I’m going to have to confiscate my fiancée from you. I’m afraid you’re going to kill her with talk of napkins.”

Narcissa shook her head, she hadn’t heard her son laugh like that in years, and it brought light to her heart to watch you bring it forth with such ease. “You know, after today, I’m quite tired. I think I’ll take dinner in my room if you don’t mind. You two go ahead and eat,” she said, and neither of you offered any debate.

“Thank you, Narcissa,” you said sweetly, and she nodded as you both headed off into the dining room. You chose the seat next to the head of the table as was social protocol, although Draco swept around you, electing to sit closer to you.

“It’s just us, I doubt anyone will care,” he said as he sat down.

“Mister Malfoy, how incredibly improper of you, whatever will I do with such a mannerless man?” You teased, your exhaustion accompanied by this morning's gesture emboldening you.

“I guess you’ll have to find peace with the fact that you’re to marry a beast who does not know his table manners, Miss Y/l/n,” he teased right back.

“I may just faint,” you said breathily, mockingly wobbling in your seat.

That laugh, that vivid, rolling laugh that reminded you kindly of waves meeting the sand, returned to your ears.

“So, how is our wedding turning out?” He asked as drinks, and your first course appeared on your plates.

“For one, I think it is preposterous that the only reason I am apart of planning and you aren’t is because I am a woman, and you are a man,” You said, as you lightly touched his nose to emphasize your point. “You are most likely way better at these things than I am. And second, my bridesmaids are Pansy, Astoria, and your cousin Ismelda, so that’s exciting.”

“Merlin, Pansy is going to hate that.”

“How was your day?”

“Certainly not as interesting as yours,” he masterfully dodged your question, which you let drop.

You continued talking, going back and forth just as you had Sunday night, but tonight was slightly different. You had started to trust him, brick by brick taking down a wall just for him, and he was beginning to understand you. Again you found the time you spent with him to be incredibly pleasant, pleasant enough for you to occasionally notice butterflies rattle around in your stomach.

When dinner ended, and it was time for you to both get to bed, you somehow both rose from your chairs on the same side. Luckily Draco had some of his whits about him and gracefully caught you by the shoulders, holding you just far enough away so that you wouldn’t bump into him but close enough so that it felt like your stomach was being shredded, his lips just centimeters away and the dim light suddenly feeling very romantic. But you just stepped back and allowed him to show you up to your room.

You awoke Wednesday morning, the monotony of your routine beginning to set in. You found your way back into the closet and picked out another perfect little black dress your mother had provided you along with a corset underneath to cinch your waist and a matching sweater. You styled your hair precisely as she would like it and followed with your makeup, applying it with an expert hand. 

It was around nine when you made your way downstairs and into the kitchen to find that you were the first to arrive.

“Good morning,” you greeted the house-elf, whose name you still didn’t know.

“Are you talking to Zilsey, Miss?” she asked you.

“Of course, and please, when it’s just us, call me, Y/n,” You requested kindly.

She nodded, “Did Zilsey do something wrong, Miss?”

“No! No, I just wanted to say hello and good morning,” you said, softening your tone as much as you could.

“Oh, thank you,” she said. “Can Zilsey get you anything, miss?”

“No, thank you Zilsey, is breakfast out on the table?” You asked.

“Yes, Miss, it is.”

“Thank you, Zilsey.”

You sat down at the breakfast table. You weren’t hungry, in fact, you were mostly nauseous with nerves at the thought of the day that was ahead of you. You poured yourself some tea and found an apple. You sat with yourself and your tea for a while until Draco appeared in similar black attire.

“Good morning,” he greeted, another book in hand, and you perked up a bit.

“Good morning,” you stood to greet him.

“This is for you,” he said, passing you the book, and you took it.

“Thank you, Draco,” you said with the same sincerity you had the day before.

“Anything for you,” he said, kindness softening his grey eyes.

“Do you mind if I read it?” You asked as you both sat down in your respective spots.

“No darling, go ahead,” said Draco as he started placing food on his plate.

You opened the letter from ‘Pansy Parkinson’ underneath the table as a layer of precaution. Excited to see Hermione’s neat scrawl and your name at the top.

Y/n,

I miss you so much I hope that you are staying safe and everything is going well. Harry told me that Draco came to him and Ron on the train and told them to write to you through him. Did he come up with this on his own? I think you should ask him about the morning in the courtyard again, I have the feeling that there is more to what’s going on than what he’s told you. 

Everything is going well on my side of things, I still haven’t been in touch at all with Ron, but I know that Harry and Ginny are doing well, but if they haven’t written you yet, I am sure they will soon. Harry has a whole conspiracy theory going around Draco, and I’m positive he is going to ask your thoughts, although he may wait until we return to school. He said that he’s worried Draco is reading these, but I doubt it. I’ve got a wonderful Christmas present for you, but I’ll wait to give it to you until we return.

Please know that I’m here for you no matter what and that I love you.

Stay safe and write me when you can,

Hermione.

“Thank you for these Draco, I really can’t say it enough,” you said once you finished the letter.

He nodded, “Anything for you.”

“Hermione says I should give you the benefit of the doubt,” you said as you folded the letter back into its envelope. You knew exactly what you were doing with those words.

Draco swallowed the pumpkin juice he had just picked up. “Does she?”

Elegantly, you nodded, “She does.”

You knew this was enough to tell him that your feelings for him existed and that you were considering something real, something better than this game of tennis you had been playing.

“Well, she is the smartest witch in our year.”

“I thought that was me,” you smirked.

Draco smiled, and playfully shook his head at you.

Breakfast continued, full of banter and flirting, and as you were waiting for the events of the day, you moved into the sitting room. Although eventually, your parents arrived, and the second they were announced, you hastily reconstructed your walls and straightened your back. Draco, picking up on every little change in habit you exhibited.

While it wasn’t raining outside, it was quite chilly, although Narcissa had utilized magic to put up a sort of weather-proof bubble around the outdoor dining set, allowing the lunch to take place out in the Malfoy’s beautiful garden. Even in winter, flowers, vines, trees, and hedges thrived green, white, silver, and blood red. Despite this, the gardens seemed cold, lifeless, and fake.

You and Draco made your way through the fog to the transparent bubble that sat in the center of a clearing out past the maze and under a series of trees and vines where your parents were waiting.

“There are the love birds,” Narcissa said gently.

“We were waiting for you all in the sitting room when the elf announced your presence,” Draco explained, catching your mother's judgmental gaze on you.

“Don’t worry, we haven’t been out here for more than a few minutes,” said Narcissa.

You assumed your seat next to Draco and across from your mother as sandwiches and teas appeared on the table before you. The lunch went as the dinner before it had, your parents focusing entirely on you and your mother shooting snide remarks about your appearance or your attitude whenever she could fit them in, although this time, your respite was a glass of champagne and holding onto Draco’s hand under the table.

“Layah, I’m sorry you aren’t able to make any of the appointments with the wedding planner. I’m sure you’d love to see how it's all getting along,” Narcissa said.

“Oh, I trust you completely with all that Narcissa, it really isn’t in my area of interest,” she said.

You were surprised that she wasn’t, in fact, more controlling over this whole process, although it was likely because she just wanted rid of you. Lunch continued on, and as it did, you noticed the stares you were receiving from your father, typically, he would just ignore you. In fact, the only time you received this much attention from his was when you screwed up.

As tiny desserts and espresso hit the table, your father rose from his seat. “If you don’t mind Y/n and I are going to go on a walk, I’d love the opportunity to talk to her, Father to Daughter,” he said to gritted teeth, taking your wrist tightly in his hand, and departing, dragging you along with him before anyone could say anything.

He took you inside and upstairs, shoving you into the first open guest room he could find and instantly cornering you. 

“Your mother and I have been made aware that you’ve found yourself in the arms of Harry Potter more than once and that now he is writing to you here. Now usually, I would have your mother deal with such slip-ups. However, we have also been made aware that you slipped away in Diagonal Alley the other day to see some Weasleys. I thought you would’ve learned from your brother's mistakes.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say as the shock of him finding you out rose to your expression.

“Don’t think we don’t have eyes on you, girl. Now, what do you have to say for yourself, considering slip-ups of the same nature are what got your brother his early spot in the grave,” 

“Father, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll do better,” you recited the taught promise. You couldn’t think, the persistent reminder of William and the overbearing presence of your father overwhelming your mind. 

He glowered at you, “You know that promises are not enough. We really did expect more from you, Y/n.” 

“I know, sir, I apologize-” 

In order to shut you up, William raised his left hand and backhanded you, the sharp cold ring bearing your family crest cutting your from the bottom of your cheek to just under your eye.

“You will not be embarrassing your mother or me after we leave on the errand,” He said, spitting on the ground next to you as you pressed yourself into the wall as you clenched your eyes closed. “Look at me when I speak to you!” He roared as he pulled out his wand and held it to your neck.

“Yes, sir! Yes, I’m sorry,” you sobbed, but when you looked up at him, he silently cast a dark spell that began to open the scars that littered your back, one you had experienced twice just this past summer. 

As the curse started to take effect, you fell to your knees, and the man standing above, you stepped back in order witness to his work. When you were down, tears started streaming down your face from the pain, and you were focused on the screaming wounds on your back. He grabbed your hair in a fist and pulled your face up so that you’d have to look him in the eye as your blood seeped into the fabric on your back. 

“You’re just a stupid little girl unable to comprehend the world around her. You’re not to ruin the legacy our family has worked so painfully hard to craft, you’ll shut up and be a pretty little face. You’ll marry Draco, you’ll stand by as we win this war, and you’ll have pureblood babies. You’ll be the Malfoy’s problem, and you’ll bear their name, but I won’t allow you to blatantly write off everything this family stands for. Your opinion, your thoughts, that overactive brain of yours doesn’t matter. Am I understood?” 

“Yes, sir,” you croaked. 

“Ah, I’ve been looking for you sir,” Draco’s sudden presence caused your father to drop you and turn towards the entrance of the room where Draco was standing. He stood in front of you in an attempt to cover you considering your current state. “Would you mind if I stole Y/n for a moment? My mother wanted to speak with her. Although if you two-“

“No, no son, please go right ahead. I was just saying my goodbyes. Layah and I will actually be leaving now.”

Your father turned back to you, muttering the counter curse to the torture he had started, then giving you a terrifyingly venomous glare before striding out of the room. Not before giving Draco a kind nod. Once he was gone, you let out a sob you had desperately been trying to hold in.

“Y/n, are you okay?!” Draco rushed over to you, dropping to his knees.

"The corset,” you murmured. You didn’t have nearly enough breath to allow for speech to come freely.

Draco pulled out his wand to unzip your dress and quickly undo your corset, ridding you of it as soon as he possibly could. Once he saw all the open scars on your back and the blood that had soaked through all of the layers of your dress, he muttered a nearly silent, “vulnera sanentur” which painfully closed the now fresh wounds. Every one of them turning into angry red scabs and flesh, and the cut on your cheek closing into a raised red line across your face.

“Can you stand at all?” Draco asked you, and you nodded, despite being unsure. “Here,” he muttered, and he picked you up, avoiding touching your back as best he could. He carried you down the hall and into his room, softly sitting you down on his bed. Draco disappeared into his closet, quickly returning with a plain sweatshirt and a pair of his boxers. “Let me help you put these on,” he offered, and you accepted, enveloped in pain you weren’t thinking of much besides your throbbing back.

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Or do you want to lay down?” He asked, he was rushed and worried, entirely unsure of how exactly he could help you.

“He knows Draco, he knows about Harry, about the letters, he knows that I went to see Fred and George,” you cried. “I don’t know how he could know.”

Draco sat down in the middle of the bed with his back against the headboard, and he laid you down from your sitting position so that your head was resting on his lap, “Darling, I’m so sorry.”

“He said that they’ve been watching me. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid to think I could get away with anything,” you said as another sob racked your body.

“I promise you that I’ll never let something like this happen to you again,” he said in a soft and gentle whisper.

“Do you love me, Draco?” you asked, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he could hear you.

This caught him off guard, but after a minute, you heard him respond, “Of course I do, I have for years.”

“Then, why?” you were referring to the last term and the hell he had put you through.

He drew a breath in, he couldn’t very well lie to you now, “I- well there’s just a lot going on and I. Well, I’m involved in something that could get you seriously hurt, and I couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your death because I-” he looked up at the wall to collect his thoughts for a moment then looked back down at you. “I love you, and I didn’t want to tell you now, here, l really care about you, and I don’t know how to convey it because you- you’re perfect and I’m just an asshole, and I don’t know how to do anything but hurt you. You emerged from all of this, from the abuse and the lies about blood purity a better person, and I just let them turn me into one of their own, a pawn.”

It took you a while to think about what he said, the lack of blood, the exhaustion, and the adrenaline seeping out of your body, causing you to take longer than you might usually. You placed your hand over his, the one that was resting on his knee, your voice was lighter and lower than a whisper, “We can fight on the right side of this war, Draco, even in secret, but we’re all that we’ll have. You don’t have to be their pawn. I know your heart is in the right place. You just have to trust me.”

He folded down and stared into your eyes, inches away from your face. After a few moments, your lips met, exchanging a delicate and telling kiss. You loved him, you cared about him, you felt safe with him, and the two of you wouldn’t be your parents. You would make a better legacy for your families. You would change the tide.

-

Part 6 - The Onyx Ring

Tag list-

@whatawildone @herequeerandstressed @lordfxxker @pillowjj @pointlesscoconut @lovelylangdonx @fire-in-her-veinz​ @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @oi-itsemily @lukehemmingslut831 @peachybeannn @lovebynorth @bubblesam06 @voidnarnia @bethii1 @arthemis-o-negative @roseyrams @treestarrrrrrrr @streetfighterrichie @dreams-in-blxck

[writingwitchly]

I’m gonna do it, anyway

Hey could I please ask for a Sirius black x Slytherin female reader fanfic based of the song Rude by Magic! References from the music video too could be added if possible? ~ @arianna-17-11

Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader

Word count: 2,2k 

A/N: Phew�� My first reader insert since… ever? I think I sticked to the request right enough XD, just skipped the Slytherin specification.  Hope you’ll like it. PS: I need a Sirius in my life RN.

The clock shows 9:23. The night only displays darkness.

You curse.

It’s quite usual for members of the Order to- ‘get lost’, in these times, with nothing to be done to find them.

The vegetables and white plastic planch on the kitchen counter suffer your aggressive stress.

It’s been two days and… and you haven’t heard of him…

A noise reaches you from the outside. Was it a crack? Your shoulders tense.

You’ve heard several of them, this weekend. Or at least, imagined you had. Every time you got to the window, there was nobody in the street below, apart from a couple of cats or a strolling brownish dog.

You don’t dare to check now, fearing that another desillusion might break your heart for good.

What if-

The thought makes you shiver, and the knife almost escapes your grip. You lay it down, next to the halfway chopped onion. It would be stupid to wound yourself without needing an enemy for that.

The beating of your heart climbs up to your ears. If at least he’d told you where he was going… None of the boys knows, either.

If he ever comes back alive from this, you’ll sure as heck won’t let him breathe until he draws a calendar and fills it whenever he plans on disappearing.

“Y/N!”

The voice carries its amusement through the whole flat, and makes your heart jump to your throat.

It takes you a good second realize who just closed the door.

For a good hour, you were thinking that-

For Merlin’s sake.

What kind of boyfriend disappears without leaving any trace, making you suffer the worst anguish for two days, to come back and greet you as if nothing had happened?

That’s right, a boyfriend about to be told off.

You storm out of the kitchen. “Sirius Orion Black!”

If James had been here, he’d ran for cover.

But Sirius is waiting for you, his arms wide open, at the entrance of the apartment. His leather jacket does not bear any trace of battle, except the one it fought against the wind on the drive home. His boots are firmly planted on the floor.

You stop when you are barely centimeters away from his body, and hit his chest with your fist at each word you articulate. “How. Do. You. Dare. To. Fr-”

Without waiting for you to finish the reprimand, he wraps you in a tight embrace.

You burst into tears. “I- I- I was so afraid. Wh- Where- Why did you leave with- without telling me-”

One of his thumbs draws circles on your back, his other hand is lost in your hair. He murmurs some words, but so low you barely hear them. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat calms you down.

When your hiccups have considerably diminished in intensity, Sirius makes you look up at him.

“I’m safe and sound, love. Look, no new scars.”

You count the marks on his face, on the bluish skin that hints a new beard, and are quite reassured to find none you haven’t already mended. “Your arms? Your back?”

“As sane as ever, Y/N. I promise.”

Finally, you allow yourself to sigh in relief, until you remember about your anger.

“How many times,” you blurt, “Have I asked you to- Why are you smiling like an idiot? I’m being very serious!”

His wide grin stretches the blemish on his lips. Even if it has suffered attacks and injuries, his smile hasn’t lost its appeal.

Sirius shakes his head a little, as to dissipate some fog around him. His eyes then root in yours. “You’re just so fucking gorgeous.”

You trail a finger along the rough skin that borders his grin, slumping your shoulders in a sweet defeat. “Why don’t you ever let me be angry at you, uh?” You smile faintly. “I was so worried.”

The man leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, from which a burning sensation invades your cheeks. Then, he inhales deeply. “Were you- Were you cooking?”

He accompanies his questions with a playful grimace.

Vexed, you punch his shoulder. “What does that tone mean, Black?”

He snorts. “Nothing, darling. Just that- It’s very unusual. Do you only cook when I’m not around?”

“I had to release the stress. So yes, I only cook when you’re not around. Talking of which, I should probably put the pasta on.”

And you disappear in the kitchen, a bit bitter.

A furious ripping sound announces the opening of the food box, and Sirius grins again. He loves it, when you get angry. It makes you look cute.

A few minutes later, he joins you, his hair dripping water all over the floor. He abandoned his leather jacket for a crepe t-shirt.

“It’s ready in two minutes,” you claim, stirring a the red sauce. “You can set the table.”

Sirius moves toward the cupboard, but then seems to think about it. His eyes follow the spoon with which you’re tasting the flavoring. He crosses his arms, and leans against the counter.

“I went to talk to your father.”

You choke on the pasta’s sauce, and have to spit it out in the sink to avoid asphyxion. Your eyes seem to double in size as you turn to look at your boyfriend. “You did what?”

With a sideway smirk, he simply states, “That was disgusting, darling.”

You could eat the napkin instead of using it to whip your lips. “You did what now, Sirius?”

The man’s arms fall to his sides, but he doesn’t lose his amused expression. As if he wanted to avoid crossing your stare, he bends down, and grabs the plates to set the table.

“I had to ask him something,” he finally explains, as the porcelain hits the fabric of the table cloth.

“Something to ask him!” You repeat, in a strangled voice. “You know it was a stupid thing to do.” You spin the wooden spoon in little circles, pointing at him, still shocked. “This- I would have preferred a hundred times if you’d faced an Order mission.”

“Oh, come on, darling,” he says nonchalantly, as if you were talking about what kind of spice to add to the condiment. “Your father doesn’t hate me that much.”

Your raised eyebrows are the answer he didn’t even need to confirm that yes, your father does hate him that much.

A pause installs itself, troubled only by the boiling liquids on the stove.

Sirius is the reckless boy who betrayed his family, the crazy guy who joined a pack of weirdos with a very unfavorable reputation outside their group of friends, the mischievous teen who got involved in a war without knowing how to fight properly, the irresponsible man who decided to live an unstable life, and the unforgivable idiot who took his only daughter away from home. Add to this that he’s a Black, son of Death Eaters, and has long hair, and he’s the perfect hate aim for your father.

A bubble explodes in one of the pans, and you turn the fire down.

You finally start to digest the news. “And- We couldn’t have- owled him?”

Sirius shrugs, dropping the cutlery next to the plates.

“It was hard to make him listen to me in person. I s’pose he would have thrown the letter away without even opening it.”

You nod, as if it was a reasonable argument, but don’t really consider it. “And- What was so important as to take you two days of discussion with my father?”

His smirk does not foreshadow anything good. “It didn’t take me two days. The first day I- I had to do something else.”

You were about to ask what, but you don’t want him to get an occasion to flee the topic. “So what did you talk about?”

“You’re like him, you know. Very stubborn.”

Merlin, he irritates you. “Will you just tell me?”

In response, Sirius grabs you by the hips and pulls you toward him. He drags a chair, and sits you on it.

“Fine,” he says, smiling like a child. “I will tell you.” He kneels on the floor, like he does every  time he needs to tell you something important, so you have to look down at him. “I had an idea on Friday. I mean, I have been thinking about this for a long time, but on Friday it became- really clear.”

You nod, wondering what in the world can make him so serious.

“And it was- Important to tell your father about it. So on Sunday, I knock-”

“On Sunday, because you had to do something on Saturday,” you say, a mocking perplexity influencing your expression. If you weren’t so worried about the outcome of the declaration, you’d probably find the situation comical.

Sirius nods. “I love you because you’re clever, too,” he teases. “I- had to buy something on Saturday. So I knocked, and Godric, you should have seen his face when he opened the door.”

A hint of amusement lights his eyes up, and you can indeed imagine your father opening the door to one of the people he’d most want to forget in his life.

“Did he close it back immediately?”

“Well, yeah.” His embarrassed grin makes you tilt your head back in laughter. “But I knocked again, like- a thousand times, because Moony told me to do s-”

“Wait a second!” You hold your palm up. “Remus was there with you?”

Sirius’s face contracts in a I-shouldn’t-have-said-that mask, a perfect copy of Hagrid’s.

“And- The other boys too?”

Your boyfriend opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out of it.

“I worried like crazy, and their letters said they didn’t know where you were, but never mind it,” you say, creasing your brow, in a tone which clearly communicates to actually mind it. Sirius caresses your arm in apologize. “Go ahead.”

Mental note of calling them all, one by one, after that.

Sheepishly, he continues. “Your father ended up listening, after all, and he was rud- not too thrilled about it. He first told me to- go count the daisies in the prairies, or something like that. He may have thought it was all a joke. But then, he saw my serious face and he just blurted that ‘no, never’. And he told me to disappear forever from his life and from yours.”

You know your father doesn’t like him at all, but you didn’t think it was to this level.

“What the heck, Sirius? What-”

But your boyfriend is unstoppable in his speech, “I said that this was going to be difficult, that we’re madly in love, and we’d go anywhere together.” To your dark look, he corrects himself, “I mean, apart from those last two days, but that was an exception. He said that his answer was no, and would always be the same. So I said that I would do it anyway, and he told me to-”

“Sirius!” You call him back to the present. “You’re not making much sense. I don’t think I can understand unless you tell me what you talked about.”

The man closes his eyes, and nods. “Sorry… Just- just the stress, probably.”

You realize that the topic must be really important. Why would he be avoiding it so much, if not?

An army of little soldiers start marching in your stomach.

“Stress?”

He smiles, “Remember that time when you were having a family dinner and your father invited a- special guest?”

You roll your eyes, “They wanted to set me up with Avery. Too bad I was already in love with you.” You grin too, pushing one of his loose dark curls behind his ear. “But what’s the-”

“I came to your rescue, with the boys. And we brought you to the park.”

Flashes of that night dance before your eyes. The music floated between the trees, Remus shot sparkles into the air, Peter and Kingsley sang an old lullaby, completely out of tune, and Frank and Alice flirted heavily as you cried at them to get a room.

It’s one of the best moments you’ve ever lived. Lily and James’ bubbly laughter, your flower crown, Sirius’ warm lips on yours...

“What did you tell me, that night, darling?”

There is no need to dig too deep in your memories to remember. “I said you’re the man I want to live with for the rest of my life,” you whisper. The soldiers in your stomach light up a million fireworks. “Are you-”

A loud bang cuts you off, followed by loud conversation, cheers, and whistles. You both raise up, and turn toward the door of the kitchen. There’s some worry on your traits.

A second later, Marlene’s face peeps out from behind the wall. “What did she say?”

The sweet smell of the forgotten pasta sauce makes you dizzy. As all of your friends gather before your eyes, your hand looks for your boyfriend’s presence behind you to steady yourself.

When you finally get a grip on his shoulder, you slowly turn around, “Sirius-”

But Sirius silences your question with a soft kiss, while he closes your fist over something small and cold. Something circular.

Then he kneels down again.

Permanent tag list: @miss-nerd0905 @funnymrspotter @obsessionsandothersandmore @daytodayfun @electraheart-isdead @laurenslines @rochelle-the-ravenclaw @wildfire-whizbangs @beaubcxton @reggieblck

Sirius tag list: @glitteryfreakslimeegg @janhvi11

[thewriterswitch]

Do ya’ll ever write a scene weeks or days before you actually reach the part in your wip where you need the scene. But when you do get to that part you forgot you already wrote it and now you have two scenes that are very different but both work and you don’t know which one to use.

[carriejonesbooks]

Writing is NOT Terrible - a Rant, Men Disrobing in the Meat Department

Writing is NOT Terrible – a Rant, Men Disrobing in the Meat Department

Carrie’s having a bit of a rant this episode. Let’s blame it on her going to a Lynryd Skynrd concert last night.

Here’s the rant:

There’s a lovely funny author who recently gave a speech saying that writing is terrible and that it is 100 % okay to complain about it incessantly and completely professional to do so.

Everyone is all, “Yes! And preach it!”

Except me.

I don’t care…

[mnmdash]

Sometimes I think I missed my calling of being a copy editor who just tells male authors everything wrong with their treatment of female characters

[callbellaforagoodtime]

FLUFFY LIONS

"roaring lions, broken hearts and the sizzling coals of hell." he reads from his tattered piece of paper.

"the sweetest of petals, echoing laughter and the brightest star in the sky." she replies instantly.

- 14 yr old me.

[unblankedpage]

So I keep writing these drabbles for these random characters I created. And I’ve even created a vague world-story for them. And the vaguest of vague plot possibilities.

And I really want to develop them, and see if I can come up with a real full-on plot. I want to see what craziness they get up to when presented with an actual conflict. (I mean they’re practically writing themselves in the drabbles KNOCK ON WOOD I don’t want to jinx them!)

 But I also start classes again in TWO DATS and will once again have NO TIME to write. Let alone to get distracted with entire world-building and plot development.

My poor... poor characters. Forever doomed to drabbles. I’m sorry.

[apathetic-theme-song]

-$300 in my bank. Please help!

Well, I’m fucked, plain and simple. My landlord took out rent earlier than I anticipated and overdrafted me by $268 dollars. So I hate to do this, but I’m reposting my emergency commissions. Contact me at Cohenaine@gmail.com if you’re interested!

Writing

Real quick rundown: $10 per 1000 words! One-shots, multi-chapter - I’m cool with any length and any genre as long as it’s fanfiction. My primary fandom is Overwatch, but I’ll also write for Team Fortress 2 and Undertale / Deltarune.

I’ll write Gen, Fluff, and NSFW stuff, especially anything regarding High Boom, Boombox, Junkbunny, and Roadrat. I’m also open to writing poly/OT3s - anything that isn’t Meihem or Meiham.

My AO3 is here for examples of what I’ve written so far.

Art (under the cut)

Art is priced based on complexity and time spent. Rough prices and examples below.

For $10 Sketches, I’ll request payment upfront. No defined lines, basic painting.

For anything else, I will do a primary sketch before requesting payment.

[alternateuniverseotp]

yo, my friend writingring used one of ur prompts and atted you, and I knowhow much they want some feedback and how much tumblr screws everyone over so just wanted to let you know if you haven't seen it already (in anon so I don't get a beating lol)

Oh, yes I saw it already! I simply forgot to reblog it ‘cuz I took a nap (^^ゞ... i’ll get to that now.

[aliwritesfic-main]

The Sick Book Tag

Thanks to @the-girl-who-lived-to-read for taging me in this

1.  Diabetes - a very sweet book

Probably The Upside of Unrequited by Becky Albertelli

2. Chickenpox - a book you read once and wont read again

The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey, i just didnt enjoy it

3. Influenza - a contagious book that spreads like a virus

Throne of Glass

4. The Cycle - a book that you read every month, every year, or very often

The harry potter series, i read it every year Christmas 

5. Insomnia - a book that kept you up all night

Caraval by Stephanie Garber, I really enjoyed it

6. Amnesia - a book that has been forgotten and failed to leave an impression

Honestly, The Martian by Andy Weir, it wasnt that it wasnt good, I just read it at a really bad time in my life and ive repressed most of those memories

7. Asthma - a book that took your breath away

Star Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi

8. Malnutrition - a book that lacked food for thought

Looking for Alaska by John Green

9. Motion Sickness - a book that took you on a journey through time and space

The Starbound Trilogy

For is im tagging @bookster-beks @take-the-read

@writingr

[writing-red]

Alright y’all here’s what I’m up to in no particular order, and with no clue when any particular fic will be done because I’m a student and my life is hell.

The Emerald Manor (P.5 of the Silver Letter)

Fred Weasley x SiriusBlacks!Daughter Reader series

Sirius Black x Reader - Marauders Vacation fic

Cedric Diggory x Slytherin prefect/quidditch captain

Rewrite + One more chapter of Oblivious

Please leave questions, comments, concerns, or thoughts, I love all thoughts (just don’t ask me when any of these are coming please)

[writingwitchly]

A matter of… toe?

Can I ask for a oneshot with Sirius with the convo: B: You got a new lip balm? A: Yeah. It smells like strawberries too! Want to smell? B: Sure! *walks closer to kiss her/him* A: *just as B is few inches away* *pulls out the balm in front, making it cover B's nose* Please!! Love you😘 ~ @miss-nerd0905

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Word count: 4,1k 

AU: Where the biggest concern sare late Xmas shopping and love. So no war, but still wizards. 

A/N: I will not rant about my writing bc it’s Xmas… Vase Darling, I hope you like it!! I wanted this to be vv Christmassy for you!! tbh, I didn’t fully stick to the prompt (this might be veryyy different from what you expected), but the lip balm’s there lol. Have a jolly holiday!

***

Like every December 23rd, you type Lily’s number on the phone, and hum a jolly tune as the dial tone echoes in your ear.

Ever since you’ve moved on your own in London, going late Christmas shopping with your best friend has become a tradition. Together, you go from shop to shop, searching even the most unknown and hidden ones, to get the most perfect gifts for your friends. And, modestly, you nail every single one, to the point where everyone in your circle of Christmas guests call you the “jingle bell rocking team.”

You let your eyes wander on the gray sky outside through the window, and make a mental note of bringing your scarf along, right as a click announces that someone has picked up the call.

“Hello?”

You were going to scream at your friend in excitement to hurry up, but something in the voice that answered makes it… not hers. It’s deep and raucous.

“Lily?”

A crack, then a pause. Some air faintly blows in the mike, and you perceive that the phone must be moving.

“Y/N?” Now, you do recognize Lily’s voice. Although it still sounds off. And nasal.

“Lily!”

“Y/N…” A cough echoes in the background, so the owner of the other voice must still be in proximity.

“Um… Are you okay?” You risk the stupid question, dreading the obvious answer.

“Well,” She tries to laugh, but her lungs seem to resist the act. “Not really. I… James managed to pass me his flu, this year. But don’t worry, I’ll wear some additional coat and we’ll still go, I’ll be there in-”

Her boyfriend protests in the back, but is stopped by another wave of coughing.

An “oh” escapes your throat, longer than you wanted it. “It wouldn’t be wise to go shopping, if you’re in that state, Lils.” For a moment, she seems to hesitate, so you add, “We want to have you guys whole and in perfect shape for the Christmas Eve party.”

You hope your regret isn’t too evident in your tone.

“James wants to make it alive until then, he’s planned a little fly dressed all in red and whi-”

The raucous voice resounds in the background, clearly irritated, and Lily laughs again, “Seems like I’ve ruined the surprise. Don’t tell anyone,” She giggles again. “Um- Sorry to leave you alone on that.”

“Uh?” Imagining James flying, dressed as Santa Claus, has made you forget anything else for a couple of seconds. “Oh, you mean the shopping. Don’t worry,” You’re not sure the last two words sounded very convincing, but you still continue, “I’ll ask someone else to come. Maybe Dorcas.”

“Er- Her and Mary have choir rehearsal for the fundraising,” Lily reminds you.

The sky outside seems to become a little darker.

“Shoot. Remus then.”

“You know that today-”

“He works until late. And Marlene’s at her family’s until tomorrow.” You bite your lip, “Peter?”

“Is it grocery shopping you plan to do?”

Peter and his love for Christmas sweets… He’d stop you at every corner to get a new type of candy.

“Kingsley?”

But you erase that possibility on your own: he isn’t one to walk the whole day around looking for funny socks or the perfect make up set.

You sight in exasperation. This is why it’s always Lily and you who take care of the holiday shopping.

Half as a joke, half out of desperation, you suggest, “Dumbledore?”

There is a loud snort -- which sounded more like a snore -- surely from James, and then Lily mutters something that you can’t hear.

“Lily?”

Shuffling in the background.

“I- James says- He says that you should probably ask Sirius to come.”

“Sirius?” you repeat, not convinced to have heard right. You hope you haven’t.

You’re not 100% sure, but you heard James repeat his mate’s name at the same time as you, and in the exact same surprised tone.

After a second, the man’s laughter is muffled by Lily’s hand on the mike. She tells him something, and he answers back between two sneezes, but you can’t understand anything except for ‘-toe.’

“Toe?”

Lily’s voice comes back, “What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, this time convinced that you have heard wrong. “So, you guys say, Sirius?”

No, no, no.

“Well, yeah. Usually, he can’t go because he takes care of James’ seasonal flu, but now I can do that…”

“Mmmm…”

“Call him, Y/N, he’s your last hope. I’ll manage to take care of my boyfriend and resist the urge to hex him.”

“Are you sure that Sirius is the right guy to give advice on Muggle shopping?”

And that I won’t make a fool of myself around him?

“I- Uh…” Lily stutters, and pauses a second to hear what James has to say. “Well, if you say so, Potter.” She focuses back on you, “James is positive about it, Y/N,” Which one? The shopping thing, or the fool thing? You’d like to be sure about the latter. “And- I left some soup on the stove,  so- we don’t want the house burning down, do we. Gotta go!”

Is it you, or does her voice sound much healthier than before? “Wait, Lily-!”

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Before she hangs up, James’ voice reaches you, but very confusedly.

Again, did he say toe?

***

Getting Sirius to come shopping with you was easier than you thought. A call, and he apparated on the front step before you had a chance to put your boots on. Even keeping your composure in his presence is revealing itself quite easy, despite the fact that you’re alone with him for the first occasion in a very long time.

The tough stuff is making him follow you through Muggle London without losing him in the crowd.

“What about that?” you ask, eyeing a novel with a bright blue cover. It reads ‘In Love With an Idiot’, and Lily would absolutely wheeze only at the title. “Do you think that James would be offe- Sirius?” You shoot a glance behind your shoulder, only to discover that the man has disappeared again. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

Struggling to hold the multiple packs under your arms, you move to the side of the pedestrian street, and climb on a bench, under the glare of an old lady. Feeling dizzy because of the bright passing scarves and hats, you lose one good minute in finding the mane of black locks that towers above the surrounding passerbys.

Completely obvious of the world around him, the boy’s observing the vitrine of a toy shop, whose sign’s colorful light reflects on his recently shaved cheeks.

“Sirius!” Your cry of frustration scares the glaring old lady away, but at least it’s successful in making your friend come back to reality.

Smirking, Sirius makes his way back to you, pushing people aside with the dozens of bags he carries, and attracting himself many dark looks.

“Afraid I’d leave you, Y/N?”

“No,” you sigh, wondering at what age Sirius has stopped growing up mentally, “Afraid to lose half of the gifts. What were you looking at?”

“Crazy how the Muggles manage to make things move without magic. There was a small train riding on its own!” His grin widens, and you have to tilt your head up to have a good sight of his childish expression.

Godric, he’s so tall. And so handsome.

Shut up, Y/N.

“But it looked quite unrealistic,” he continues, unaware of your internal dialogue, “There was no smoke.”

“It’s normal,” you say, “It works with batteries, a clever way of producing energy without-”

But Sirius craning his neck in direction of another shop stops you mid-sentence. It won’t be long until he goes off your sight again.

Merlin, he’s worse than Peter.

“No, Black, no such thing again. We’re almost done, I don’t plan on spending the night here.”

To prevent him from going away again, and prevent the lost of the dozen of bags he carries, you link an arm with his. And immediately feel your cheeks lighting up.

Thankfully, he looks away. And you badly hope it’s not because he saw you blushing.

“Nice weather,” he mutters, right as you say, “It’s freezing cold.”

Had it happened earlier, you would have laughed and argued, but now a strange tension seems to have fallen on the two of you.

“So er- those… baggeries,” he says hesitantly. “Do Muggles use them only for tiny trains or-”

You smile shyly, relieved by his clumsy attempt at building a conversation, but suddenly find yourself unable to explain anything about bagge- batteries. So you just correct his pronunciation and laugh the question away.

Something in the way Sirius looks and behaves has changed since your Hogwarts years. He is much more mature, and much less of a troublemaker. He hasn’t lost his mischievous sparkle, of course -- not even after death will he --, but he uses it more consciously.

The last time you two have been alone together before today was… three years and a half ago?

During the graduation party, you had found yourself sitting alongside the dance floor, immersed in nostalgic flashes of your school years, when Sirius had come to ask you for a dance. He saw it as only another moment of fun, but something clicked in your head when he grabbed you by the waist.

You saw memories of how you had started liking him in first year, how his sarcastic remarks were actually something you looked forward to get angry at everyday, how his lousy humor and deep sense of loyalty were his most attracting traits, how his hair falling on his eyes made you daydream.

You also saw the fact that you were about to step in the adults’ world, and maybe part ways.

So, drunk in melancholy and honeywine, you were about to tell him what you had hid for seven years in a row.

But, right at that moment, a group of girls passed by, eyeing him shamelessly and giggling like three-years-olds. It was already hard to swallow the fact that you were infatuated with the most popular guy in a range of ten kilometers, but when he asked you, in the middle of the song, if you’d mind if he invited one of them to dance, you lost your breath.

“Of course not,” you answered, surprising yourself at how easy the lie had come out of your mouth.

He had paused, looked at you for a second, and left you alone in the middle of the room to join the group of girls.

At that moment, lost in your feelings, you had seen through his: you were nothing more than a friend to him.

Some heavy darkness had engulfed you, and that had been the last time you’d accepted to be alone with him. Until today.

You have spent three years muffling your heart’s complaints under tons of good will, in the name of your friendship, and in respect for his opinion.

Caught in the worry of not being able to buy your friends their gifts, you did not think twice about it, earlier, but now…

It seems dangerous to walk next to him.

Around you, the street is getting busier of other people who, like you, have opted for a last-minute gift-search. Fake Santas shake their bells, making teens giggle, and women with babies look in adoration at them. A couple of parents hold their children by the hand, dragging them toward a house shop, while the kids clearly feel like stopping in front of a cozy bar. There is a Frank Sinatra song playing somewhere near the place at the end of the way, and the crispy notes of his deep voice fill every corner of the jolly atmosphere.

A draught of winter air caresses your face, making you shiver.

“About time to go, don’t you think?” you suggests, tightening the scarf around your neck.

“Well- De we have everything we need?” Sirius hesitates, so you start recounting the bags,

“We’ve got Marlene’s sweater, Alice’s scented candles, Kingsley’s sock set-”

“A complete,” Sirius interrupts you “collection of Queen’s best hits for James - that sucker better repay me later, this costed like one of my eyes - a maxi sized pot of skittles for Dumbledore, a horrible pair of socks for Frank, and some catnip for Minnie. Remus’-”

“Catnip?” you raise an eyebrow. “Oh please, don’t tell me you’ve-”

“No, I haven’t left the tea behind, we have that too. I just thought it’d be nice to add some catnip,” he finishes, with a big grin stamped across his face, and you roll your eyes.

“I checked everything on the  list that Lily and I have made, so we have everything. I think we can stop.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius asks, and you think you discern some deception in his words. Is it really possible that-

But your running imagination must be tricking you.

“Quite sure, I-” You slap a hand on your forehead, attracting a curious look from a seven-years-old passing by.  “I was forgetting, as always!” you claim, “We’re not done yet.”

Sirius eyes you, and you see a reflection of the little boy’s expression on his face. And maybe a brighter twinkle in his stare.

“We were forgetting about our own gifts,” you explain, to which he breaks into a snort.

“What’s the plan, then? We choose our gift, and we’ll act as if it’s a surprise on Eve’s dinner?” he asks.

You shake your head. “You choose something for me, I’ll pick something for you. No right to show the other, so-” You realize what you’re going to say, and regret it a bit. “So- It’s better if we part ways now, anyway. I have- I have to meet Mary and Dorcas for a trip to the library,” you say, raising your stare from the floor to look at him straight in the eyes.

Sirius’ lips purse in a thin line, and he nods in understanding.

You slow your pace down, and come to a halt. After a second of uncomfortable pause, you unlink your arm from his, and, for a moment, you face each other, unsure of how to say goodbye.

“See you tomorrow, then,” Sirius half-heartedly says.

“Yeah,” you respond.

The crazy thought of a hug crosses your mind, but you turn on your heels before giving in to the temptation. 

You’re already a good fifteen meters away, when his voice flies to you, “It was a nice shopping session, Y/N! Thank you!”

You swing around, and smile before the crowd swallows him.

***

“You tricked me.”

Zipping her golden top, Lily doesn’t deign you of a look. “I don’t see what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Spare me your terrible lying capacity, Lily. Just- Let’s set aside the fact that you’ve broken our tradition, and that I felt treasoned, but-” You run a hand on your face, looking for proper words to make you sound less lame than what you are. “You know that it’s hard for me to be in the same room as him, and you made it more awkward by setting this up.”

“I didn’t s-”

“Oh come on!” you cry, frustrated. “He was ready when I called! And you do sound like you healed very quickly.”

The decorations on the walls and the snow falling outside make Lily and James’ living room look like a gigantic snowball.

“I- Ok, I’m not as sick as I was yesterday morning, but… I th-”

“You have no right to play the matchmaker, Lily... You know very well how much I struggled to make the pain go away!”

“The both of your are so much more mature recently.”

“So? I can’t make him fancy me, if he doesn’t want to! No matter if he gets as mature as Remus.”

“You’re so stubborn, Y/N! If you don’t try, you’ll never get anything!”

From the doorframe, James chuckles, “Take me as an example: I managed to date my fierce redhead after seven years of-”

“James!” you both scream, and the man raises his hands in defence, going back to drinking his medicinal tea. He can barely stand up, wrapped in the tons of coverts that are supposed to protect his fragile health from yet another cold, but he wouldn’t miss your discussion if he got paid for it: you get better than his favorite telenovellas, when you’re in that mood.

“If you ever tell him any of this-” you look at him, menacing.

With his mouth full of the infusion, James mimics somebody promising, and then walks out of the room, in look of a more peaceful environment. He does that every time he senses the storm going toward him.

“All I want is you to be happy, Y/N. I swear you need to be blind not to notice that Sirius likes you.”

“I’m- Please, don’t make it harder, Lily. I appreciate your encouragements, but I worked hard on making these feelings disappear, and-”

“We both know you still like him, Y/N. How many times will I have to tell you.” She rolls her eyes. “I am going to get you two together before this New Year, or I’ll rename myself Gertrudis. And you can’t change my mind.”

With nothing to answer to that, you sigh, only waiting for the moment when you’ll get to call your best friend Gertrudis.

***

“Nothing better than a sweet gathering with friends for Christmas,” Remus says as he pops the bottle of honeywine open. Behind him, the fire cracks in the chimney.

From across the living room, Frank, his arm around Alice’s shoulders, laughs, “You say that every year, Rems.”

Kingsley comes in the scarred boy’s defence, “It’s worth repeating, Longbottom. Anyway, I’d rather hear Remus say it a thousand more times than to have to listen to James’ drunk jokes at the end of the meal.”

The mentioned boy fakes a pout, and Sirius, who’s lying on the floor at his feet, plays with a red cap, that will be useless this year: Flying Santa Potter Show has been moved to next year, because of ‘health issues’, to Peter’s great regret.

“I wonder how you’re still sneezing enough to make that whole building fall down, James, while Lily’s wearing a mini skirt.” The bitterness in your voice can only be understood by James, and by his girlfriend. “From how she sounded on the phone yesterday, she was about to die.”

At those words, Lily gets out of the kitchen, followed by Dorcas, and shoots you a smile, “Onion soup does miracles on me,” she winks, and turns toward the man spread on the carpet, “Sirius, please be a sweetheart, and give Y/N a hand to bring the rest of the starters on the table.”

And here we go again.

Noticing your annoyed groan, Marlene slightly smiles.

“I hope the floor’s clean,” she murmurs to Lily, “Because I have that feeling that we’ll have to pick the starters up from the tiles. What did you do to piss her off?”

“Just wait,” the redhead whispers back, “And you’ll see.”

***

In the background, Celestina Warbeck threatens to drown you all in a cauldron full of hot love.

Sirius is handing you some plastic plates, on which you lay tiny canapes. The only reason that prevents you from dropping them on the floor in vengeance is their very appetizing look. And the fact that you’ve spent hours dressing them.

The soft buzzing of conversation coming from the living room warms your heart: having friends like yours is the highlight of your life. Ruining the mood by confronting romantical feelings to just friendship would be… awfully wrong.

“Any plans for New Year’s Eve, Y/N?”

“Uh?”

Sirius smiles at you from the other side of the table, a plate full of mini croissants in each hand. “Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

You tilt your head. “Just- our usual gathering. Why?”

The man shrugs. “Maybe you wanted to do something different, I don’t know.” And he grins again. “You tell me, if you want some change, okay?”

“Sure.”

Perplex because of his strange request, you come back in the core room of the party a little distracted, sensing that something is weird.

You scan your friends’ faces, but don’t notice anything out of place, so give up  your strange presentment.

***

Soon, it’s time to unwrap.

As everyone discovers their gifts -- and shares drunk jokes, much to Kingsley’s dismay -- you step in a corner, holding a pink package in the palm of your hand. The ribbon itself is bigger than the box.

“What is it?” Sirius’ sudden presence behind your back makes you start.

“What do you mean, what is it?” From the corner of your eye, you notice Lily staring at you, and then whispering something in James’ ear. “Didn’t you buy it?”

The man scratches his neck. “I’m not the best at choosing Muggle gifts, let along for a girl. So I asked the salesgirl to give me the cutest item she had and-” He points to the half-unwrapped box in your hands. “I’m about to discover what it is at the same time as you.”

His breath on your neck makes your fingers tremble, but you rip the remnants of colorful paper off the present, and reveal a-

“Lip balm?” you ask, surprised.

Sirius only nods, with half a smile. “Looks like it.”

Carefully, you extract the round container from the wrapping, grinning at how cute it is, indeed. You delicately brush a finger on the surface, and press it to your lips.

“Mmm… It smells like strawberries!”

“Really?” Sirius casually steps closer to you.

“Uh- Want to smell?” you ask, trying to remain composed.

“Sure!”

You were about to pass him the container. You were about to. 

But, under your unbelieving stare, Sirius leans forward, until he’s only inches apart from your mouth, and closes his eyes.

A little lamp lights up in your head: that something that was wrong when you exited the kitchen, James’ repeated mention of a ‘toe’ during yesterday’s call… Right above your head, you see it.

It happens all so fast, that you can barely register your own movements.

***

“You what?”

Lily, shivering in her skirt, is gaping at you. She ran after you as soon as you left the apartment in a hurry, and managed to catch you right as you were exiting the building.

“I panicked” You cry, still shocked yourself, and starting to feel like the dumbest person ever, ever, ever.

Your best friend blinks very slowly. “You- Are you doing this to make me lose the bet? Because that’s the only explanation I will accept, Y/N!”

The scene repeats itself endlessly in your mind as the snowflakes sprinkle your hair. Sirius, centimeters away from your lips. The balm suddenly put in front of him, covering his nose. His surprised look. Your run away.

“I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t know?” Her eyes clearly say ‘I’m about to kill you if you don’t give me a good reason for leaving the perfect romantical scene out of the blue’.

“Listen! If I wasn’t sure that he now thinks I’m the most idiotic fool in this world, I’d run back upstairs and kiss him right where I left him!” you scream.

You hope that none of the neighbors had planned to go to bed early.

“Glad you would-” A voice comes from an open window, three floors above. A pair of large glasses is looking down at you, surrounded by all your friend’s faces.

“James! Fucking get inside, don’t make your flu even worse!” shouts Lily.

“- because,” her boyfriend ignores her, “I doubt he’d be happy to have ran down the stairs for nothing!”

Right as he finishes his sentence, the building’s door opens, and lets out a very confused Sirius. Quickly, Lily disappears inside.

The world stops spinning, and you lose the capacity to breathe. Your knees threaten to give up under the weight of the tension that installs itself on your shoulders.

Merlin, if I could die right on the spot.

“I’m sorry if I-” Sirius takes a step forward, but stops right away, and lowers his head. “It was stupid of me, I’m very sorry.”

Seemingly unable to distinguish between what happens in your head, and what you’re actually doing in this moment, you walk toward him.

“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” The temperature of your cheeks climbs up vertiginously, and it costs you an incredible effort to articulate. “I’m the one who ran away.”

And you’re standing in front of him, close enough to see the grey of his eyes reflecting the streetlamp light.

“I like you a lot, you know.” His soft whisper knocks the air out of you. “I think I’ve liked you since Hogwarts, but I was too busy being a jerk to notice it.”

Before the moment has a chance to vanish, like a dream, you reach for his lips with yours, standing on your tiptoes.

As Sirius wraps his arms around your waist and deepens the kiss, you can hear the dance of the snowflakes, chorusing with the beating of your hearts. Your breaths become the same mist, and your bodies tell the same story. The story of two young people in love.

Above your heads, a green branch has been fixed with some tape from a windowsill of the third floor, and is gently being hugged by the breeze.

“Look at those two,” Winter seems to whisper, “Finally kissing under the mistletoe.”

***

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