#Female Lucius Malfoy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slytherinsmuse · 4 months ago

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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Hidden Moments | Draco Malfoy ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: characters are 18+, soft Draco

Summary: Fluff | A reserved new student finds comfort and connection in the unexpected warmth of Draco Malfoy.

Word count: 7557

author's note: Thank you for this request, anon person! I hope you manage to see this because there is no way to tag you. I also really really hope that you like it! ♡

You sat quietly at the Slytherin table, staring down at your breakfast as you absentmindedly stirred your porridge. The Great Hall buzzed with morning chatter and laughter, but it all felt distant, like background noise that didn’t quite reach you. You weren’t used to this place yet—not the towering walls, not the crowded tables, not the countless faces that were still strangers to you. You felt like a misfit puzzle piece, unsure where you belonged in the grand picture of Hogwarts.

Moving in the middle of the school year had been jarring, to say the least. Just a few weeks ago, you’d been at your old school, surrounded by friends you’d known for years. There, you’d felt safe, comfortable. But that world had been left behind when your parents had abruptly decided to move back to England. You were sure that they had their reasoning but now everything was new and unfamiliar, and it felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under you.

Adjusting was harder than you’d anticipated. Your natural shyness and introverted nature made it difficult to reach out, to speak up, or to introduce yourself. You kept to yourself, trying to avoid the eyes of the other students, your shoulders slightly hunched as if to make yourself smaller. Each meal felt like an ordeal, sitting alone at the Slytherin table, acutely aware of the laughter and conversations happening around you but feeling somehow apart from it all.

You sighed softly, poking at a piece of toast, hoping to blend into the background, just another face in the crowd. But the weight of your solitude was settling on you, heavier with each day. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to make friends—you just didn’t know how to start. The thought of approaching anyone, of forcing yourself into an unfamiliar social circle, made your stomach churn.

Just as you were sinking deeper into your own thoughts, you noticed someone sitting down across from you. Startled, you glanced up, meeting the cool grey eyes of none other than Draco Malfoy. He looked at you with a faint, unreadable smirk, his gaze lingering as if sizing you up. The Draco Malfoy—you’d heard his name more times than you could count in the first month since you’d arrived. He was known for his sharp tongue, his confidence, and the way he commanded attention. Yet here he was, sitting across from you, his eyes flicking from your nervous posture to the untouched food on your plate.

“Lost in thought, are we?” His voice was smooth, almost teasing, breaking the silence in a way that felt both comforting and intimidating.

You felt your cheeks warm, your eyes quickly darting back down to your porridge. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain the storm of emotions that came with being the new, quiet girl at Hogwarts.

He chuckled softly, the sound surprisingly warm despite his reputation. “Don’t apologise.” he said, leaning forward slightly. “It’s just rare to see someone so… silent here.”

You glanced up at him again, noticing the hint of intrigue in his expression. It felt strange, having someone like him show an interest in you, the shy girl who barely spoke. But his gaze wasn’t unkind. If anything, it held a quiet curiosity, as if he were genuinely trying to understand you.

The thought made your pulse quicken, and before you could help it, you muttered, “I’m… just not used to this place yet.”

Draco’s smirk softened, and for a fleeting moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of something gentler in his eyes. He tilted his head, studying you with a look that seemed oddly thoughtful. “Well, Hogwarts does take some getting used to. But who knows? You might surprise yourself.”

You felt yet another rush of warmth creep into your cheeks as you nodded, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt. Draco’s gaze lingered, and in that brief silence, he took in the softness of your features, the subtle beauty of your face, and the way your cheeks had flushed a delicate pink. Something about it made him pause, his usual confidence faltering as he wondered why he found you so… intriguing.

He shouldn’t have been interested, he knew that. He was Draco Malfoy—the boy with a sharp tongue, a cold demeanour, and a reputation for being dangerous. Innocent, shy girls like you weren’t supposed to be on his radar. You were the opposite of everything he was used to, and he was well aware of the shadows he carried, the things that made others keep their distance.

And yet, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

For a moment, he wondered what it was that made him want to approach you. Maybe it was the way you sat there, quiet and introspective, as if the world around you was a whirlwind you wanted no part in. Maybe it was the vulnerability in your eyes, the way you looked both fragile and resilient at the same time. Or maybe it was simply that he hadn’t seen anyone quite as stunning in a way that felt so… unguarded.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You know, people aren’t always as they seem here.” he said, his voice softening in a way that surprised even him. “Don’t let this place get the best of you.”

Before you could respond, he stood up, his usual mask slipping back into place. He gave you one last lingering look, his grey eyes holding a quiet intensity, as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to. Then, with a graceful turn, he walked away, blending back into the bustling crowd in the Great Hall.

As you gathered your things and rose from the Slytherin table, you noticed the subtle, piercing gazes from a group of Slytherin girls nearby. Their eyes tracked your movements, whispers exchanged between them as they took in the fact that Draco Malfoy—the Draco Malfoy—had chosen to sit with you. Feeling the prickling sensation of their stares, you quickly looked away, your cheeks warming once more, and quietly slipped out of the Great Hall, heading toward your first class.

The next few weeks passed in a blur, the strangeness of Hogwarts gradually becoming a little less overwhelming. But the biggest change came from Draco’s steady, quiet presence that somehow became a constant in your days.

It started with him joining you in the library. He would stroll in casually, scanning the rows of tables, and his gaze would settle on you as if you were the only one in the room. Without a word, he’d take a seat beside you, opening a book or unfurling a scroll, but he rarely spoke. You began to understand that he didn’t come for conversation; he came for the silence. For the comfort of sitting next to someone who wasn’t demanding anything from him. And slowly, that realisation helped you relax in his company, allowing the quiet between you to grow into something familiar, something that didn’t need filling.

In classes, Draco would occasionally choose the seat next to yours, sliding his books across the desk and flashing you a brief smirk before settling in. During group assignments, he’d gravitate towards you as well, his approach casual, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. You found yourself looking forward to these moments, the way his presence seemed to bring a subtle warmth to the otherwise intimidating newness of everything around you.

You couldn’t deny that it confused you at first—this gentleness he showed you was so different from the way he treated others. You had seen him snap at classmates, mock students with a cold glint in his eyes, and dismiss people with a sneer. His biting remarks were sharp and unkind, making you wonder why he would ever show interest in someone as quiet as you. And yet, here he was, somehow finding his way into your routine.

As the months passed, you relaxed further in his company, almost forgetting the unease that had once overwhelmed you. You began to enjoy these quiet hours, especially when you’d find him lounging in the Slytherin common room on late evenings. Sometimes, he’d settle down beside you on the couch, his body angled toward you as he made light conversation—little things, unimportant things that felt oddly meaningful because they were shared just between the two of you.

You began to notice the softer side of him, the one he kept hidden from everyone else. With you, he was calmer, almost unguarded, and you often caught glimpses of something thoughtful and kind beneath the layers of harshness he presented to the world. He seemed to find solace in your presence, as if you were a quiet refuge from the demands and expectations pressing down on him.

One night, as you sat together in the common room, the firelight casting a warm glow across his face, you turned to him, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Why are you so… different with me?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible above the crackling of the fire.

Draco looked at you, surprised, his gaze searching yours for a long moment. For once, he seemed at a loss for words. Then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned back, his eyes distant yet gentle.

“Maybe I need a break from… everything else.” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He looked away, almost as if he were embarrassed to admit it. “With you, it’s just… easy.”

You didn’t press him further. Instead, you smiled, a small, understanding smile that told him you knew, that you understood. And as the two of you sat together in that quiet corner of the common room, you felt the invisible line between you grow a little fainter, replaced by a warmth that seemed to settle in the space between your shoulders.

You felt your cheeks flush as you glanced down, fingers fiddling with the edges of your sleeves. Words danced on the tip of your tongue—words that could have told him you enjoyed his company, that he’d somehow become a comforting presence in your days—but you were far too shy to admit it aloud. And yet, there was a small part of you that sensed he already knew, that he could feel the same unspoken bond forming between you.

After a while, you gathered the courage to look up at him, offering a small smile. “Goodnight, Draco.” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes softened, and he gave you a slight nod, a quiet acknowledgment that seemed to hold more meaning than any words could. “Goodnight, Y/N.” he replied, his voice carrying a gentleness that still surprised you.

You rose from the couch and walked up the staircase to your dormitory, your heart fluttering as you replayed the evening in your mind, wondering if you’d ever truly understand why Draco Malfoy of all people had chosen to be kind to you.

The next morning the usual hum of chatter in the Great Hall seemed louder, almost electric with excitement. You quickly caught snippets of conversation from the students around you, words floating through the air like bubbles.

“Did you hear? They have announced the Christmas ball!”

“I can’t wait to see what everyone wears! I’ve already got my dress planned…”

“Who do you think will ask you? I heard Blaise is already planning something big…”

The news about a winter Christmas ball spread through the hall like wildfire, with students leaning in close to whisper about who would be asking whom. You felt a pang of nervousness as the reality of the event sank in. Social gatherings were never easy for you, especially something as grand as a ball. The thought of dressing up, of dancing and mingling with so many people, sent a familiar wave of anxiety washing over you.

In the middle of your anxious thoughts, a new one formed, a quiet, tentative hope that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help but wonder—would Draco ask you to the ball?

As the day went on, you noticed girls from all houses casting glances in Draco’s direction, some giggling behind their hands, others making excuses to speak to him in passing. It seemed that many hoped for his attention, but he remained as aloof as ever, barely acknowledging them. Yet every so often, you caught his gaze drifting toward you, a fleeting glance that made your cheeks grow warm all over again.

The idea of going with him was enough to send a thrill through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the panic that settled in your stomach at the thought of attending such an event. Draco Malfoy was an enigma, unpredictable at best, and you couldn’t be sure he would want to bring someone like you, the shy, quiet girl he mostly saw in moments of solitude.

That same evening, you were sitting in the library with your books spread out before you. Just as you were starting to take notes, you felt a familiar presence settle beside you. Glancing up, you saw Draco, his usual calm expression softened with the same quiet interest he always showed when you were alone together. He didn’t speak right away, instead opening his own book and letting the comfortable silence settle over you both.

But as you tried to focus on your reading, you couldn’t shake the hope buzzing in the back of your mind, the anticipation of the possibility. Would he, you wondered, break the silence and ask you to the Christmas ball?

Draco’s eyes were slowly flicking over the pages of his book, seemingly lost in his own world. Minutes ticked by, the comfortable silence stretching on as he read. Then, almost casually, he closed his book and turned to face you.

“So…” he began, his voice soft but with a trace of amusement, “are you planning on going to this Christmas ball everyone’s talking about?”

Your breath caught, and you glanced up, feeling his gaze settle on you. Nervously, you shook your head, almost afraid to admit it. “No, I don’t think so.” you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The thought of dressing up and stepping into that grand hall, surrounded by so many watchful eyes, made you anxious.

Draco raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not much of a gatherings type, are you?” he asked, his voice holding a teasing warmth that put you slightly at ease.

You nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “I’m… not really comfortable with big events. Especially when there are so many people. I feel like they’re all watching.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

To your surprise, Draco chuckled, shaking his head as if he found your answer endearing. He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as he regarded you with that familiar, unreadable glint in his eyes. “You’re really something, you know that?” he said, his tone light. “Most people here would jump at the chance to go and show off, to be the centre of attention for the night.”

You looked down, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your book. “Well, I’m… I’m not most people.” you replied, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Being around Draco had somehow made you a little braver, enough to admit the truth.

Draco studied you for a moment, his expression softening, as if he were seeing you in a new light. “Good!” he said finally, his voice so quiet it was almost a murmur. “Maybe that’s why I like being around you. You don’t care about any of that… nonsense.”

You looked up, surprised, meeting his gaze. There was something vulnerable in his expression, something he rarely showed to others. He paused, as if weighing his words, before finally speaking again.

“Would you… reconsider going? If…” He cleared his throat, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “If you had someone to go with who didn’t care about all that either?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse quickening as you tried to process what he was saying. Was he… asking you to go with him?

“I… I don’t know.” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… maybe if it was someone I… trusted to understand.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, and he leaned a bit closer, his gaze steady and warm. “Well…” he said softly, “you know where to find me if you change your mind on going.”

He rose from his seat, picking up his book, but before leaving, he paused, casting you one last look. “Think about it, Y/N.” he added, his voice just above a whisper. “It might be nice.”

And with that, he left, leaving you alone in the library, your heart racing as you replayed his words in your mind.The idea filled you with both excitement and a nervous anticipation, a warmth that lingered even after he was gone.

You sat alone in the library, Draco’s words replayed over and over in your mind, the softness in his voice, the gentle way he had approached the question. You’d seen other boys ask girls to the ball with grand, showy gestures—flowers that burst into magical blooms, charmed notes that floated through the air, even songs sung embarrassingly loud in the corridors. But Draco… he hadn’t needed any of that.

There had been no spotlight, no audience, no pressure. He’d asked you so simply, as if he already understood that the idea of a big, public proposal would have made you want to disappear. Instead, he’d done it in his own, subtle way—quiet, sincere, and perfectly considerate of your feelings. It was exactly what you hadn’t known you wanted.

A warmth settled over you as you realised how well he seemed to understand you, how he could sense what made you nervous without you even saying it. You’d grown used to people overlooking your quiet nature or not understanding why you shied away from the spotlight, but Draco… Draco saw it and didn’t ask you to change. Instead, he made space for it, like he was offering you a safe corner in the middle of all the chaos around you.

You smiled softly to yourself, fiddling with the corner of your book once again. A part of you still felt nervous, the idea of going to the ball both thrilling and daunting. But another part of you—a quieter, braver part—whispered that maybe, just maybe, you could say yes. The thought of being there, in the midst of all the festive excitement, with only Draco beside you, made the idea feel a little less overwhelming.

With three weeks left until the ball, you found yourself caught between excitement and hesitation. Some days, you were certain you’d say yes, picturing yourself in the glow of the ballroom lights with Draco by your side. Other days, your nerves would flare up, reminding you of how out of place you might feel, surrounded by the dazzling gowns, the lively music, and the endless watchful eyes.

But through it all, Draco remained by your side, unbothered by your indecision. He continued to sit next to you in the library, quietly absorbed in his reading while you went through your own books. Sometimes, you’d exchange a few words or simply share the now familiar comfortable silence. He didn’t push or pry; he simply kept you company, content in the easy rhythm you had both fallen into. It was as though he had sensed your uncertainty and was giving you the time you needed.

Meanwhile, the Slytherin common room buzzed with excitement about the upcoming ball, with Draco’s friends, Blaise and Pansy, constantly teasing him about not having a date yet.

“Come on, Draco, who are you taking?” Blaise would press, nudging him with a knowing smirk. “Or do you plan to go alone, sulking in a corner all night?”

Draco would only shrug, an amused glint in his eyes as he brushed off their questions. “Maybe I prefer the idea of a quiet evening.” he’d reply, his tone nonchalant but his gaze occasionally drifting over to where you sat, studying or writing by the fire.

Pansy, however, wasn’t so easily deterred. She’d roll her eyes, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh. “You’re Draco Malfoy! You could have anyone in this school on your arm.” she’d insist, clearly baffled by his indifference. “And you’re telling me you don’t even have someone in mind?”

Draco would simply smirk, a secretive look in his eye that none of them could quite decipher. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right person to come around.” he’d say coolly, casting a glance in your direction before returning to his book.

Every time you overheard these exchanges, your heart would flutter. Though you didn’t show it, you felt a growing warmth at how patient he was, how he seemed unfazed by the usual social pressures that accompanied events like this. Draco could have easily chosen someone else by now, succumbed to the excitement like everyone else around him. But he hadn’t. He was waiting for you, with a quiet confidence that made you feel both comforted and nervous.

As the days ticked by, you found yourself inching closer to a decision. You were no longer as frightened by the idea of the ball, knowing Draco would be there, steady and reassuring as always. And finally, a few days before the event, you decided that maybe you were ready to say yes.

You were sitting in the common room, quietly finishing up an essay when Draco joined you on the couch, his usual easy smile lighting up his face. He didn’t say anything at first, simply leaning back, his presence calm and familiar as always. The warmth of the fire crackled nearby, casting flickering shadows over the room, and you couldn’t help but feel how the gentle, golden light softened Draco’s sharp features, adding a warmth to him that no one else seemed to notice.

Your heart began to race, and you glanced down, gathering the courage to speak. You’d been turning this moment over in your mind for days, each thought punctuated by the question of whether you were ready. But seeing Draco here, just as patient as ever, you felt a small, shy smile forming on your lips.

He noticed your shift, his gaze sharpening slightly with curiosity. “What is it?” he asked, his tone low and gentle, as if he already sensed the weight of your words.

Taking a deep breath, you finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “Draco… about the ball…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. You watched as his expression softened, the faintest spark lighting up in his gaze. He leaned forward, his focus entirely on you, his expression one of quiet anticipation.

“I’d like to go…” you said softly, your heart pounding so hard you felt it might echo in the quiet room. “With you.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you. His lips curved into a genuine, warm smile, one that seemed to hold a world of understanding, as if he knew just how much it had taken for you to say those words. His eyes softened, his gaze steady and reassuring, and you could see a look of satisfaction flashing across his face as he nodded.

“Good.” he replied, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of excitement beneath his usual cool demeanour. “I’ve been waiting.”

A small, relieved laugh escaped you, and Draco chuckled as well, his eyes never leaving yours. In that quiet moment, with only the crackling of the fire in the background, you felt the weight of your nerves slipping away. All that remained was a warmth in your chest, a quiet thrill that settled in your heart, as if every anxious thought had been soothed by the simple, steady comfort in his gaze.

To your complete surprise, Draco reached over, his hand finding yours, his fingers brushing yours in a way that was both gentle and confident. His thumb traced small circles over your knuckles, a gesture so tender it sent a pleasant shiver through you. You glanced down, unable to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, but Draco simply smiled, his eyes holding a soft amusement as he took in your reaction.

“I wanted to ask you.” he murmured, his tone low, almost conspiratorial, “but I thought I’d give you time. I know you don’t like… big scenes.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest at how well he understood you. “Thank you… for waiting.” you replied, your voice soft.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his fingers lingering as he replied, “You’re worth waiting for.”

The words hung in the air between you. You found yourself lost in his gaze, feeling a connection deeper than anything you’d ever felt before. And in that moment, you knew you’d made the right choice. Whatever nerves remained seemed to melt away in the warmth of his touch, replaced by a quiet excitement, a thrill at the thought of the night to come and the promise of a moment shared only between you.

~~~

It was the day of the ball. You stood in front of the mirror, nervously fiddling with the hem of your gown. The soft black fabric flowed around you like liquid midnight, gliding over your frame with a grace that felt foreign yet beautiful. It was far out of your comfort zone—elegant, sleek, and perhaps a bit too daring for someone used to hiding in the background. The gown covered you in silky waves, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely exposed.

Your fingers brushed over the card your mother had sent with the gown, her excitement evident in every carefully penned word. She had understood your hesitation, always supporting you in your quiet ways, but her joy at the thought of you stepping into the world was unmistakable. Her words were warm, encouraging, and they echoed in your mind as you took a deep, steadying breath.

With a final adjustment to your elegant hair clip, which held your carefully styled hair in place, you glanced at your reflection, hoping it conveyed even a fraction of the confidence you were trying to muster. You could still hear the gentle encouragement in your mother’s voice, and that small, steady reassurance felt like a quiet strength resting in your heart.

As you made your way down the stairs, you were met with the sight of other girls, adorned in gowns of every colour, dashing past with bright eyes and breathless excitement. They giggled, glancing over their shoulders as they rushed to their dates, their expressions alight with anticipation.

You lingered at the edge of the common room, feeling both a part of and apart from the thrill that filled the air. For a second you thought about abandoning the plan, about turning around to hide back into the safety of your dormitory. But you didn’t, you pushed forward. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you stopped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes found Draco waiting near the entrance.

He looked striking in his formal attire, a tailored black suit that brought out the sharpness of his features and the cool grey of his eyes. He was watching the door, his expression carefully composed, but as soon as he saw you, his gaze softened, a flicker of warmth melting the usual coolness in his eyes.

For a moment, his gaze swept over you, and you could have sworn you saw the faintest hint of awe there, a subtle appreciation as his eyes lingered on the way the gown draped over you. He took a step closer, his hand extending towards you in a gesture that felt both formal and gentle.

“You look…” He paused, searching for the words, his usual smooth confidence giving way to something more genuine. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you managed a small smile, your fingers brushing his as you took his hand. “Thank you.” you murmured, your voice soft. “You… you look amazing too.”

His lips curved into a slight smirk, but there was a softness to it that felt reserved only for you. “Ready?” he asked, his thumb brushing against your hand, sending a reassuring warmth through you.

With a small nod, you felt your nerves settle slightly. It was just you and Draco now, away from the giggling girls and the excited chatter. You stepped into the hallway, your hand in his, his grip steady, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the sense of calm he brought.

When you finally reached the doors to theGrand Hall, Draco paused, turning to you. “If it gets to be too much… just let me know.” he said quietly, his gaze warm and reassuring. “We can slip away, find a quiet corner somewhere. Just us.”

The kindness in his words, the unspoken promise of understanding, made your heart swell with gratitude. You felt the tension in your shoulders ease, the comfort of his presence settling over you like a gentle cloak.

“Thank you, Draco.” you said softly, squeezing his hand as you offered him a genuine smile.

As the two of you entered the grand hall, the immediate stares from students around you made you instinctively shrink back, your nerves flaring up under the weight of so many curious eyes. You moved a little closer to Draco, letting him act as a buffer between you and the crowd. Sensing your discomfort, he slid a reassuring hand to your waist, pulling you close in a subtle but protective gesture. The warmth of his touch grounded you, his presence like a steady anchor amidst the swirling noise and lights of the hall.

With his hand on your waist, Draco guided you to a quieter corner where he pulled out a chair and gestured for you to sit beside him at one of the tables. You gratefully took the seat, feeling safer tucked close to his side. His casual confidence helped ease some of your nervousness, and though you couldn’t escape the occasional glances thrown your way, you felt a bit more at ease with him near.

It didn’t take long for his friends to spot him. Blaise, Pansy, and Theo approached the table, each wearing expressions that ranged from amused to downright mischievous. Blaise was the first to speak, his lips quirking up into a teasing grin as he looked between you and Draco.

“Had to go for the quiet one, huh, Draco?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows. “Didn’t want to risk someone who’d actually talk back?”

Draco rolled his eyes, but his hand remained steady on your waist, not moving an inch away. “Some of us value peace and quiet, Blaise.” he replied smoothly, his tone laced with just enough sarcasm to make his friend chuckle.

Pansy leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully as she looked you over, though her expression wasn’t unfriendly. “Didn’t think I’d see you at one of these, Draco.” she said, her voice teasing. “Or you, for that matter.” she added, nodding at you with a raised eyebrow.

Draco’s arm tightened around you slightly, his tone cool but lighthearted. “I’m full of surprises tonight, apparently.” he replied, glancing down at you with a small, private smile that made your cheeks warm. His friends exchanged knowing looks, a mix of surprise and amusement clear on their faces as they took in the uncharacteristically soft look Draco wore when he looked at you.

Theo crossed his arms, a smirk forming on his face. “Never thought I’d see the day when Draco Malfoy would be so… domesticated.” he joked, earning a snicker from Blaise.

Draco shot him a look that was both annoyed and amused, shaking his head. “Better domesticated than chasing after a loudmouth all night.” he replied, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Blaise raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “Fine, fine. Guess we’ll leave you two ‘quiet ones’ to yourselves, then.” He winked at you before they moved to join the rest of the crowd, casting a few playful glances back in your direction.

As they walked away, you felt yourself relax a little more, the warmth of Draco’s hand still resting on your waist a quiet reminder of his presence. He looked down at you, his gaze softening.

“Sorry about them.” he murmured, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. “They’re… not exactly subtle.”

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “It’s okay. They seem… nice, in their own way.”

Draco smirked, his expression softening as he looked at you. “Nice might be a bit of a stretch. But they’re loyal. And they’re less insufferable once you get to know them.”

You chuckled softly, your nerves easing bit by bit as he continued to keep you close, shielding you from the attention of the room. The music played on, and though the hall was filled with laughter, chatter, and the dazzling movements of dancers, in your corner of the room, it felt like it was just the two of you. And with Draco by your side, you found yourself starting to enjoy the night in a way you hadn’t expected.

Draco never pushed you to join the others on the dance floor or to mingle with the lively crowd that filled the hall. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to sit by your side, his presence calm and reassuring, as if this corner of the grand hall were your own private sanctuary. He leaned back, relaxed, his gaze soft as he looked at you, and the two of you settled into a quiet rhythm, chatting in low voices amidst the distant music and laughter.

You found yourself growing more at ease, the earlier tension gradually slipping away. Draco had an effortless way of drawing you out, his questions thoughtful, never prying. He seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you—asking about your favourite things, your thoughts on Hogwarts, little stories from your past. With every answer, he’d listen intently, offering the occasional smile or chuckle that made you feel… seen, in a way you hadn’t expected.

And he, in turn, shared parts of himself that you could tell he rarely let others see. You learned about his favourite places at Hogwarts, like a small alcove by the lake where he liked to go to think, or the dusty, hidden corners of the library where he would escape when he wanted peace. He even told you about his love for quiet nights spent by the common room fire, when he could let his guard down without feeling the weight of others’ expectations.

Despite still feeling slightly on edge, there was a warmth in Draco’s presence that made the evening unexpectedly pleasant. He didn’t seem to mind your shy responses, your glances down as you fiddled with the edges of your gown, or the way you occasionally looked out at the crowd with slight apprehension. He simply adjusted, keeping the conversation easy and gentle, as if he understood exactly what you needed.

At one point, the music shifted to a slow, softer tune, and you caught a glimpse of couples drifting gracefully across the dance floor. Your heart fluttered slightly, wondering if Draco would ask you to dance. Part of you was terrified at the thought of being in the spotlight, of stepping out onto the floor where everyone could see. But a quieter, hopeful part of you wondered if he’d pull you in close, if his touch would feel as steady as it did now.

Draco must have noticed your gaze, because he leaned forward slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Do you want to dance?” he asked softly, his tone gentle, leaving you the choice.

You hesitated, feeling a mixture of longing and nerves, and shook your head slightly. “I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

He nodded, a warm understanding in his eyes as he settled back into his chair, his hand still resting on yours. “That’s perfectly fine.” he murmured. “I’d rather sit here with you anyway.”

A comfortable silence fell between you as he continued to hold your hand, his thumb tracing gentle patterns over your fingers. It was a simple gesture, but it made you feel safe, like he was willing to shield you from the world outside your quiet bubble. He didn’t push, didn’t ask you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He was just… there, content to be beside you, in whatever way you needed him to be.

As the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, the low murmur of his voice and his quiet laughter easing the last of your nerves. You’d never imagined that something as simple as sitting beside him, exchanging quiet words, could feel so intimate, so genuine. It was as if he were letting you into a part of himself that no one else got to see, and in turn, you felt safe enough to let down your own walls, if only just a little.

In that moment, with his hand in yours and the soft glow of the candlelight reflecting in his eyes, you realised that this was exactly what you’d hoped for—a night spent in quiet companionship, away from the noise and expectations of the world. Just the two of you, in a space that felt like it was made for you alone.

And somehow, that was enough. More than enough.

You glanced up at Draco, feeling the now-familiar warmth spread across your cheeks, and took a deep breath. Gathering the courage, you looked into his eyes, feeling a small, shy smile tug at your lips.

“Draco…” you murmured, your voice soft, “I… I think I would like to dance with you. Just… away from everyone else.”

His eyes lit up, a gentle smile crossing his face as he gave a slight nod, understanding instantly. He rose from his seat without hesitation, his hand extended towards you. You placed your hand in his, feeling a spark of excitement as he guided you through the hall, weaving between tables and clusters of students, until you reached the doors of the Grand Hall.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the cold winter’s night air, the faint echo of the ball’s music drifting into the quiet. Draco led you down a pathway lined with twinkling fairy lights, stopping at a secluded spot beneath a large, ancient tree. Here, the soft notes of the music were still audible, blending with the peaceful sounds of the night. It felt magical, almost as if this place had been waiting for the two of you.

Draco turned to face you, his hands gently resting on your waist as he looked into your eyes, his expression warm and inviting. The moonlight cast a soft glow over his features, accentuating the rare tenderness you’d come to recognize in his gaze.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low, as if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the moment.

You nodded, your heart fluttering as you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his presence wrap around you. Slowly, he guided you into a gentle sway, the two of you moving to the distant melody drifting from the hall. There were no grand gestures, no fancy steps—just the simple rhythm of your bodies moving together, perfectly in sync.

For a moment, everything else faded away. There were no prying eyes, no expectations, just the two of you in this quiet corner of the world. You looked up at him, your cheeks still rosy, feeling the thrill of the dance and the intimacy of being so close.

Draco’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his voice barely a whisper. “You know, I never thought I’d enjoy a night like this so much.” he murmured. “But… you make it easy.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and a soft smile graced your lips as you looked back at him. “I feel the same way.” you replied, surprised at how natural the words felt. “I didn’t think I’d even be here… but you’ve made tonight feel… special.”

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I think it’s you who’s made it special, Y/N.”

The music swelled in the background, he pulled you a little closer, his hands firm yet gentle on your waist. You let yourself relax in his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in a way you hadn’t expected.

The two of you moved together in quiet harmony, the world around you seemed to fall away, leaving only the soft music, the gentle sway of your bodies, and the warmth of Draco’s embrace. He pulled you just a little closer, resting his chin gently on the top of your head as you nestled against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat filled your ears, calming and comforting, grounding you in this perfect moment.

You let your eyes close, feeling the warmth of his body radiate through you, and it was as though you could both feel each other’s unspoken emotions in that silence. The night air was crisp, but in his arms, you felt nothing but warmth.

After a few moments, he sighed, the gentle exhale stirring your hair. He shifted slightly, and you felt his chin lift as he looked down at you. You glanced up, meeting his gaze, seeing a softness in his eyes that made your heart race.

“Y/N.” he murmured, his voice low and vulnerable. He paused, as though choosing his words carefully, his expression uncharacteristically uncertain. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you something for a while now.”

You felt your breath catch as his hand gently traced along your waist, the tender pressure sending a pleasant shiver through you.

He swallowed, and his gaze held yours, steady but filled with a quiet intensity. “Would it… would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Your cheeks grew warm, and you felt a nervous, shy smile tugging at your lips. The question hung between you, and though you felt a rush of nerves, you also felt a quiet, undeniable thrill that made you want to lean in and close the space between you.

Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, your gaze dropping to his chest for a moment before lifting to meet his eyes again. “Yes… I’d like that.” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

A gentle smile curved his lips as he leaned down, his hand sliding to cup the side of your face. His thumb brushed softly along your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring, as if he wanted to make sure you felt safe in his arms.

He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest, softest of kisses. It was gentle, unhurried, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. His hand held you close, cradling your face as he kissed you again, a little more deeply this time, and you felt yourself melt into him, the world around you disappearing entirely.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a soft smile playing on his lips. His hand stayed on your cheek, his thumb brushing soothingly along your skin.

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur in the night. “For trusting me… and for tonight.”

You smiled shyly, your fingers tracing the lapel of his suit jacket as you looked up at him, still a little breathless. For a moment, you simply let yourself take in his warmth, his gaze soft and unguarded in a way you knew he rarely showed.

But instead of replying, you surprised even yourself as you stood up on your tiptoes, leaning in to press your lips against his once more. It was a bold move, uncharacteristic of your usually reserved self, but something about this moment felt right, like it was meant for just the two of you.

Draco’s initial surprise softened almost instantly as he returned the kiss, his hands gently moving to your waist, pulling you closer. This kiss was deeper, filled with a newfound confidence and passion that sent your heart racing. When you finally pulled away, both of you were smiling, his forehead resting against yours as you shared a quiet, almost breathless laugh.

“Oh wow?” he murmured, his voice low, full of surprise.

You chuckled softly, feeling a little more daring than before. “Maybe I should be bold more often.” you whispered, meeting his gaze with a new spark of confidence.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’d certainly encourage it.”

In that moment, with the quiet music playing in the background and his arms wrapped around you, it felt as though you had found something rare and precious—a feeling that went beyond words, beyond the excitement of the ball, and straight to the heart of what it meant to share something true.

You weren’t sure what would happen between you and Draco after today. But as the two of you stood together, swaying gently under the stars, you knew that this night was a memory you would hold onto forever.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

#draco malfoy imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #hogwarts #draco malfoy fluff #fanfiction #harry potter fandom #slytherin boys imagines #one shot #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x female reader #slytherinsmuse #soft Draco Malfoy

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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years ago

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LOVER

Summary: An inside look into the happily ever after between you and Draco that is well deserved.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3kish

Warnings: SMUT (!!), raw sex, synchronized orgasms, slight dirty talk, cream pie, making out, established relationship.. anything else?! Let me know!!

A/N: I had always been wanting to write this little epilogue for my favorite little story, Heather. Please read my previous post which is just an explanation into why I hadn’t posted in a while! I hope you enjoy this. Title inspo: “Lover” by Taylor Swift.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts! Love reading them. 🫶🏻

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Shhhh, baby. You gotta be quiet,” your husband rasps into your neck, his deep voice sending goosebumps loose all over your skin, as he licks a small strip up to your chin as he proceeds to nibble on your bottom lip. His warm, soft hands touching your skin which makes you feel like you're burning underneath him.

You clench your eyes together to try and make sense of all of the different sensations you’re currently feeling.

A strangled moan chokes its way out of the back of your throat as he angles his hips upwards to go in deeper as you instinctively wrap one of your legs around his waist to give him better access. Your hands touch his soft skin around his waist as you hold onto him, gripping tightly into his flesh.

Your bodies synching together like they always have. Even after all these years. No amount of time would ever come close to being enough. You’re always going to want more.

More. More. More.

Your husband steals your moans as he covers your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours softly, and your arms wrap around his neck to pull him into you. One of your hands moves into his hair, tugging at the roots gently as his own hands move to grip onto your hips, and you both start moving together. Speeding up when you start feeling the familiar ache in your lower belly.

You both pull away from each other's necks, smiling when you both notice the same reflexes, and you reach up to kiss your husband's sweet mouth once more. His thrusting only grows rougher and deeper, but still moves with caution and it makes your entire body erupt in chills as you both moan into each other's mouth when you climax together.

Always together.

Your toes curl into the bed as your husband continues to thrust into you, spilling himself completely into your warmth, and you peck his lips a couple times as he leans his forehead against yours. Both letting out loud pants and small giggles. A cheeky grin overtakes his face as his eyelashes flutter against his creamy skin.

His beautiful silver eyes meet yours as he kisses the tip of your nose and then he slowly pulls out of you which makes you whine at the loss of contact and he flips down next to you. He chuckles deeply as he rubs his chest, which is moving rapidly as he comes down from his orgasm, and his fingers brush against your breast.

His fingers caress your naked skin around your chest, “God, I love you. I love how we’re still in sync even after all this time.”

“So do I,” you whisper back sweetly to him as you reach over to him to kiss his cheek, which makes him flush like he always does, and you slowly start getting off the bed. You use the bedside table to steady yourself as you stand up.

“It’s starting already?” He yells after you as you speed walk into the master bathroom that you are so incredible thankful for at this second because you feel like your bladder is about to burst.

“Shush,” you exclaim back with a giggle as you proceed to finally sit down on the toilet and have yourself a wee. Your entire body relaxes at the feeling and you look down at your protruding belly.

Three months to go.

You reach over to grab your belly oil and rub it all over your stomach as you relax for a second. You almost jump off the seat when you hear your husband's voice from the door.

“You’re a sight, my love.”

“Draco!” You exclaim with an eye roll as you watch him watching you. He stands against the bathroom door, leaning against it, still naked, and you let yourself take in his body in its full glory.

You take a minute to admire his muscular posture with his lean frame. You admire his creamy, milky skin which is covered in bruises. Which were caused by your mouth. Always leaving them everywhere because you absolutely loved to mark him up. You always made sure they were in places that could be hidden underneath his Auror robes.

He still brought up the one time you accidentally marked him above the collar mark and everybody teased him for weeks until it faded away. Especially since Draco never used glamour charms on his skin.

You admire his long legs with his equally long torso and you loved how tall he was. He always made you feel safe and secure in his arms. You lick your own lips as your eyes land on his valuable member.

Your stomach tingles as he slowly strokes himself, still a bit hard for your morning activities, and you let out a laugh.

“Stop it,” you demand as you clean yourself up and proceed to wash your hands. You stare at him from the mirror with a small smile.

“Stop what?” He questions with a smirk as he goes to the toilet to do his own business.

“I’m already pregnant with your sixth offspring because of that thing!” Your eyes looking wide at his cock in his hands.

Draco lets out a loud, belly laugh that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle as he cleans himself up. “Technically it’s only your fifth pregnancy!”

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love it,” he whispers as he places a big kiss into your warm cheek causing you to giggle again.

You leave him be as you walk into your shared walk in closet. You pull over a matching pair of baby blue knickers and a soft bralette. You wiggle your way into your comfiest pair of black leggings and soft knit white jumper. You slip your feet into your fuzzy gray slippers and start making your way down the hallway. Your ears are perking up trying to hear any signs that your kids are up.

You start making breakfast the muggle way, thanks to Hermoine for teaching you, and you’re humming along to a song when the first sign of life invades your senses.

You feel small hands sneak up on your belly as you smile brightly, pausing as you mix the eggs, and look down at bright gray eyes looking up at you.

“Good morning, mummy!” Your little five year old daughter, Aries, whispers as she shows off her bright toothy smile.

You bend to kiss her forehead as she giggles, “Good morning, my little angel. Where’s your brother?”

She rubs your belly lightly as she then skips to her usual chair around the family table, “Brushing his teeth, mummy.”

“Did you brush yours already?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and she giggles even louder.

“Duh, mummy!!”

Right on time, Aries' twin brother Phoenix, comes running down the hallway.. excessively loud and giggling as your oldest ten year old son, Scorpius is chasing after him. Your seven year old, Leo, is walking behind them slowly. Yawning and rubbing his eyes lazily as he trails into his seat at the table as he moans out a good morning to you and blows you an air kiss.

“Be careful!!” You yell after them as Aries only watches them with a smile on her face as you continue cooking breakfast. You hear louder footsteps as Draco comes into the kitchen, ready for the day in his Head Auror robes, and holding your three year old daughter in his arms.

He reaches you, pecking your lips sweetly as if you didn’t just spend the morning wrapped around him, and lets you kiss Lyra’s soft cheek as she smiles at you. Her tiny hand touches your hair slightly.

Her eyes that match yours watch you as Draco walks away from you and tries to wrangle up all the kids for breakfast before he has to leave for work.

The kids are all yelling, moving, and proceeding to sit in their favorite seats. You and Draco proceed to move in sync together as you both gather plates for the kids. Moving to fill each with cut up pancakes, scrambled eggs, cut up strawberries, and each kid getting their favorite drinks. You quickly make Lyra a yogurt bowl with extremely small slices of strawberries on the side and a cup of her favorite milk.

Bumping hips and sneakily smiling at each other.

Draco starts handing each one of your shared kids their own special plate and drink as you make your own plate along with your husbands.

You set the plates down as you hand Draco’s hot coffee that’s under a stasis charm as he hands you a thankful smile and passes you your own cinnamon tea in your mug.

The room is soon filled with loud children talking. Scorpius and Leo arguing about what to do today after daddy gets home. Debating on if they should play quidditch or have a family movie night since it’s Friday. Which means daddy gets the weekend off. Aries and Phoenix are munching on their breakfast loudly and making silly faces at each other which causes them to giggle excessively at each other. Lyra sits in her high chair as she observes her siblings with a silly little smile on her face and trying her best to eat her yoghurt with her tiny pink spoon.

Draco feeds her small bites of his own pancakes as Lyra happily accepts them.

“What are your plans today, baby?”

You hum as you finish your bite of food, “Hermoine and Pansy are coming over today. They say they want help with the wedding planning, but I think they’re having godchildren withdrawal.”

Draco snickers at that with a slight eye roll, “Of course they are. Our children are the best.”

You smile at him, “So, Pansy told Theo and now he’s coming over with the kids as well.”

Draco nodded his head, “I’m sure Potter is happy about that.”

“Anything to get Theo away from his nesting habits and begging Harry for another baby,” you say with a soft smile as you think of your best friends.

Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully, “I’m sure his baby fever will end once he sees your pregnant belly and our adorable Lyra. Didn’t they just adopt baby Sirius?”

“Baby Sirius is going to be four already! Then Lily and James are already Scorpius age. Theo is just scared of empty nesting, but Harry says he wants to wait until this big case he’s dealing with passes.”

Draco hums in agreement, “I wish we were like that.” And he proceeds to give you a soft teasing smile.

You poke him with your fork and shake your head, “We have kids basically every two years, these twin girls are the last ones!” You eye him with an authoritative look.

“Anything you say, my love.”

“Do you think Hermoine and Pansy will ever adopt or have kids of their own?” You ask as you watch Lyra to make sure she’s eating. Draco doesn’t miss the tone of your voice at your question.

“You’ve noticed the way Hermoine looks at your belly, huh?”

“I have,” you reply softly. “It’s just.. Pansy always says she’s okay with just being a godmother, but ‘Min…” you trail off with a sad smile.

Draco reaches over to your hand and squeezes, “I understand, trust me. Maybe get a second with Granger and just talk to her about what we’ve noticed.”

“Maybe. I don’t want to overstep,” you say as you sip your drink. Scorpius is the first one that finishes eating and he quickly thanks you for breakfast with a kiss on your cheek as he moves to start washing the dishes. You admire your first born for a second and can’t help but love how much he looks like his father and how big he’s gotten.

The same milky white skin with bright pale hair and even with the same matching gray eyes. His exact copy. Oh, you can’t help but tear up at how much you love your first baby boy. The first baby that made you a mother and taught you about a mothers love.

The one who made you want a million more babies.

Leo and Phoenix soon start helping clean up the plates as Draco helps Lyra get cleaned up. Aries helps him as you use your magic to clean up the table and Lyra’s high chair.

You hum in contentment as you proceed to kiss the cheeks of all your kids. Scorpius blushes, Leo kisses you back, Phoenix and Aries giggle, and Lyra pulls you in to attack you with kisses and hugs. Draco soon jumps into all the loving before he has to floo to work.

Draco piles all the kids into his arms as he squeezes them into his arms and then tells them to go play before their cousins come over.

He gently pulls you into his arms as one of his hands slips underneath your jumper to rub your belly as he kisses your lips sweetly. The feeling of his lips on your sends sparks all over your body like it always does and you savor his taste.

“I love you,” you whisper into him as he smiles against your lips.

“I love you more,” he whispers back with a couple more pecks against your smiling mouth.

“Be careful and I’ll see you soon,” you kiss your lips one more time as he steps into the fireplace.

“Always am, my love. And I’ll be counting down the minutes,” he says with a wink as he grabs a handful of floo powder and calls out his location. He bursts into green flames and your hearing soon fills with the sounds of your children’s giggles and loud voices playing together.

You take a moment to take it all in.

Loving the same boy… now man for as long as you can remember. The amazing life you both have built. It was never easy and there have been many hardships, but it was incredibly worth it.

What a beautiful life you both had built slips into your mind as you smile to yourself in pure bliss.

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zvdvdlvr · 9 months ago

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Please write something for Draco again! Maybe where he’s a black lab boyfriend and his girlfriend is an orange cat. Maybe she’s having dinner with Cissy and Lucius and the both like her? She is purblooded and Slytherin please.

Dinner Tomorrow

It was ‘past due for a visit with the in-laws’, Narcissa had said in her letter. ‘Wrangle up that boy of yours and come to our home for dinner tomorrow’.

“I love your mum,” you cooed, shoving the letter into Draco’s face that night after dinner was eaten and put away. “Do you think she’ll want us to stay the night?”

Draco chuckled, leaning back. “Yeah. Mum’s good at persuasion. Luckily I picked that skill up from her when I asked you to marry me,” he mused absently. He rested his palm against your face, eyes going impossibly soft as you pressed a kiss to it and rested your cheek into his hand, observing the letter once more.

“I’ll pack some clothes for us, Dray,” you murmured.

“Not yet,” Draco protested as he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you. “Just stay with me.”

— 💋

“Narcissa!” You greeted, running with open arms to embrace the woman. She met you halfway down the trail to her front door, giggling almost as loud as you. You collided and spun around, hearing Lucius and Draco chuckle. “I missed you! I would have visited sooner but your son-“ you glared playfully at the accused- “decided that holding meetings with his coworkers in the Ministry every other day to ‘improve’ working experience was more important than home life and his loving wife. Or something like that. All I heard was excuses,” you explain, waving off Draco’s protests.

Narcissa cooed pitifully, tsking at her son. “You poor, poor thing! I can’t believe I raised that thing.”

Narcissa took your arm and led you inside, rounding a laughing Lucius sharply. “That’s not what I- y/n, darling- it’s a required weekly meeting that all- darling…” Draco’s protests came.

You and Narcissa giggled all the way to the table.

#x reader #jules writes 📓🖊#draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x female reader

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deadghosy · 6 months ago

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Slytherin boys react to you being taller than them in heels

Requested by @daddiesgone

Tom Riddle

Honestly doesn’t care at all.

He still holds power, he has that aura.

AN AURA OF AN ALPHAAA *cough cough* sorry. But yeah he think you look lovely in heels

No matter how tall you are that intimidates people. He has the scary presence

Mattheo Riddle

Probably says “I’ll climb that tree!” 😭

Either way, he finds you hot asf since you are taller than him

He digs it a lot honestly

Literally brags at how you could be in the WNBA 😭

Draco Malfoy

I feel like he would be slight insecure at how much more taller you are than him in heels

He soon gets over it, don’t worry he won’t verbal or physically put you down.

He would just muster some courage of his own and be out with you in public in pride

Like a true malfoy

Theodore Nott

Honestly he thinks you two are two a W tall couple

Honestly finds you hella more attractive in heels.

Would literally point to you and be like “yeah my gf is a goddess..what about yours?”

He’s literally so petty and funny

Lorenzo Berkshire

A little overwhelmed since you were taller than him already without heels

But that doesn’t change the fact he still loves you though!

He loves his tall princess

Probably goes heel shopping with you more

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vigilante-3073 · 1 month ago

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Honey & Lemon

Draco Malfoy x Female Hufflepuff Reader

Summary: Draco Malfoy has always longed to be loved and accepted. As he falls in love with Y/N, a studious young Hufflepuff, he starts to wonder if his happy ending may be closer than he could've expected.

TW: Lovesick Draco, kissing, hand holding, jokes.

Draco Malfoy met Y/N L/N when he was in his third year at Hogwarts. If he had to be completely honest, he didn't know that she existed before she stood in front of him after their Potions class that day.

Y/N had always been a good student but she had a lot of trouble with Potions. Y/N had gone to Professor Snape for help and he sent her to Draco for some tutoring. Draco was at the top of the class and Y/N could learn a lot from him.

"Hello," Y/N said softly, holding her books close to her chest as she stood in front of his lab table.

Draco glanced at Blaise before looking up at the Hufflepuff girl, "Can I help you?" He asked, not bothering to hide his disinterest.

"I've been having some difficulty in this class and Professor Snape recommended that I speak to you about possibly receiving some assistance," She said.

Draco straightened in his seat at the mention of the Professor, "What's your name?" Draco questioned.

"Y/N L/N," She replied.

"Alright, Y/N, bring your supplies to the library after dinner tonight. I'll meet you there," Draco said.

She smiled, "Thank you," Y/N said quickly before making her way out of the classroom.

Draco watched her leave, the smell of her perfume lingering even after she had disappeared out the door. The scent was light and warm with notes of vanilla and citrus.

"You're tutoring Hufflepuffs now, Malfoy?" Blaise questioned with a smirk.

"Shut up," Draco snapped, gathering his supplies.

Draco and Y/N met in the twice a week and she eventually began to get the hang of some potions. She still struggled, but she was much better off than she had been.

Y/N wanted to learn and it frustrated her that she wasn't picking it up like everything else. Draco almost found it humorous, seeing such a sickly sweet person be anything other than delightfully pleasant.

As their potions class approached its final days, Draco found himself disappointed. He had grown quite fond of Y/N during their time together and he wasn't ready to see it end.

They sat in the classroom for their final tutoring session, brewing the last potion that he would assist her with. Y/N was focused on her textbook, following the directions carefully and adding each ingredient to the bubbling cauldron.

She dropped the final item into the liquid, taking a breath as she stirred the potion. A victorious smile appeared on her face as the liquid changed to the desired color, a bright and beautiful green.

"I did it," She said, looking to Draco.

He watched her with a soft smile, "It's like you don't even need me anymore," He teased.

"Of course I need you, silly. I wouldn't have known how to prepare half the ingredients otherwise," Y/N said, sitting down in the chair beside him.

"You would've figured it out. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for," Draco said.

"Thank you... That means a lot," She replied softly.

"I was wondering, since classes are almost over... Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me after exams?" Draco asked.

"Really? You'd want to go with me?" Y/N asked.

"I would... I actually have a bit of crush on you if I'm being honest," Draco said, fidgeting with his quill.

"You do?" She asked, a smile slowly appearing on her face.

"Yeah," He stated.

"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Draco," She replied.

...

From that day forward, Y/N and Draco were inseparable. They continued to study and work on assignments together, he walked her to all of her classes and snuck over to the Hufflepuff table to sit with her during meals.

If the teachers noticed, none of them said anything. Y/N was good for Draco and her companionship had changed him.

Draco was kinder, the vicious jabs he often slung at other students had dwindled and the difference was definitely noticeable. Draco was absolutely smitten, devoting all of his extra time to Y/N.

Y/N made him happy.

Draco had never experienced real happiness in his life and it made him value what Y/N brought to his life so much more. Draco had only ever known pain, violence, disappointment and loss.

His father held him to an incredibly high standard that he had never been able to meet. Draco strived to be the greatest, but always found himself finishing in second or third place.

It made him angry and he chose to lash out at those around him. Y/N exuded warmth, kindness and love every single day, Draco found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Draco considered himself to be blessed when Y/N woke up every morning and chose to spend her time with him. He was lucky to have her by his side and he knew that.

Draco was determined to keep her existence a secret from his father for as long as possible. Draco had talked about Y/N with Narcissa and she was excited to meet the girl, but allowed Draco to decide if and when they would be introduced.

He wanted to keep this one good thing untainted, even if it was just for a little while.

Draco didn't know what he would do if his father ordered him to break up with her. He couldn't do it, not to Y/N. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Y/N had introduced him to her parents briefly when they met at the train station at the end of their third year. They were delighted to meet him, welcoming him with opening arms after everything their daughter had told them.

Draco had never seen Y/N's cheeks go so red and he couldn't help but smile, taking her hand in his. Y/N's mother had even made him a batch of cookies, promising to send more if he enjoyed them.

Her parents were just as warm and kind as Y/N and he fell for her even harder. He felt lucky to be accepted into such a beautiful family, especially since they knew who he was. Or more importantly, who his father was.

People tended to judge him without getting to know him because of who his parents were and he didn't blame them. He hadn't done much to establish a good image for himself, but he was working on it.

Y/N made him want to work on it.

Draco was beginning to think that he had gotten away with keeping Y/N's existence a secret until the start of his fourth year. Lucius insisted on taking Draco to Diagon Alley to shop for his fourth year supplies. Draco kept his head on a swivel, hoping to spot Y/N before she saw him if she was out shopping.

He was embarrassed, but not of her, his father tended to blurt out rude comments that left an awful taste in people's mouths. Draco hoped to avoid the interaction, he didn't want Y/N to endure any of his father's abuse.

"Draco!" Y/N called, he immediately froze and his body tensed.

Y/N made her way through the crowd with her parents following closely behind her. She wrapped her arms around Draco and he quickly returned her embrace. He held her close, breathing in the scent of her perfume to steady himself before letting her go.

"How was your holiday?" Y/N asked with a smile.

"It was good. How was yours?" He questioned.

"Fantastic! I got a lot of new books that I can't wait to share with you," Y/N said.

"Hopefully you got a few on Potions because you are still just awful at that?" Draco teased.

"I did actually. I've been reading up over the break so hopefully I'll be able to teach you something this time around," Y/N replied.

"I look forward to hearing all about it," Draco smiled.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Draco?" Lucius questioned.

Draco's smile fell, "This is my girlfriend, Y/N... Y/N, I'd like you to meet my mother and father," Draco said.

"Nice to finally meet you both, Mister and Missus Malfoy," Y/N greeted.

"You as well, dear, I've heard a lot of good things," Narcissa smiled.

"How long has this been going on?" Lucius asked.

"Since last year, father," Draco admitted.

Lucius' eyes flickered over Y/N's form before looking behind her at her parents, "You should be focusing on your studies, Draco, not gallivanting around with a Hufflepuff," He spat, scowling at the young girl.

Y/N tensed, "We actually met when Professor Snape chose your son to be my tutor in Potions. Respectfully, you can't get any higher than top of the class, Sir" Y/N said.

A tense silence settled between them before Lucius replied, "A Hufflepuff with a backbone... I suppose there's a first time for everything," He stated, walking off and into the next store.

Narcissa sighed, "It was nice to meet you, dear," She said with a smile.

"You too, Ma'am," Y/N replied.

Narcissa introduced herself to Y/N's parents before following her husband into the store.

"Darling, we're just going to head into Flourish and Blotts. You can meet us there in a bit, alright?" Her mother questioned.

"Sounds good, mum," Y/N replied with a smile.

The couple quickly disappeared into the crowd, allowing Draco and Y/N to spend a moment alone.

"I'm so sorry for my father. I knew he'd be like that and I tried to keep him away from you," Draco said, holding her hand in both of his.

"You don't have to apologize, Draco. He's your father and I would've needed to meet him sooner or later," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," He nodded.

"Your mum is really nice," Y/N said.

Draco huffed a laugh with a smile, "Yeah, she's been wanting to meet you for a long time," He said.

"How long is a long time?" Y/N asked.

"I wrote to her after our first tutoring session in the library. I really liked you," Draco admitted.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss, his eyes drifted shut and his hands shifted to hold her hips. She pulled away and his eyes fluttered open, leaning his forehead against her's with a soft exhale.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," He said, lifting his hand up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I feel the same way about you," Y/N smiled.

...

The time for the Triwizard Championship had arrived and the competitors were selected from the Goblet of Fire. Of course, by some random burst of impossibly bad luck, Harry Potter's name flew out of the goblet and into Dumbledore's hand.

Draco attended the events with Y/N by his side, the amount of risk involved with the competition made her nervous. Her nerves just meant that she held on tighter to Draco so he couldn't complain.

Draco was excited when the time came for the Yule Ball, he asked Y/N to be his date the minute it was announced and she couldn't keep the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

Draco offered to pay for her dress, but Y/N brushed him off and assured him that she already had the perfect gown.

Y/N couldn't have been more right.

Draco was absolutely awestruck when he saw her making her way down the stairs on the evening of the Ball. She was wearing a floor-length gown made of lace and silk with her hair done perfectly to match.

Y/N looked like a princess and Draco was completely speechless.

"You look absolutely stunning," He finally managed, taking her hand as she made her way down the staircase. His thumb absent-mindedly ran across her knuckles, unable to tear his eyes away from her form.

"Thank you. You look handsome," Y/N replied.

"I'm glad you think so," He smiled, looping her arm through his and resting his hand over her's on his bicep as they walked into the Great Hall.

It was a wonderful night, they danced for hours before Draco led her away from the crowd, "Is everything okay?" Y/N questioned.

"I love you," Draco stated.

Y/N smiled widely, cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him. Draco rested his hands on her waist, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I love you too, Draco," Y/N replied.

They spent the rest of the Ball together before the students began to disperse. Draco walked Y/N back to the Hufflepuff dormitories. Her shoes dangled from her fingers, her other hand holding onto Draco's as they walked through the castle.

Draco's bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. He glanced behind him when the voices and laughter of other students fell silent.

Draco slowed to a stop, still holding onto his girlfriend's hand, "Hold on for a second," Draco said.

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him "Is everything alright?" She asked.

"I've been waiting to get you alone all night long," Draco said.

Y/N smiled, "And what did you have in mind now that you have me, Mister Malfoy?" She asked.

"Oh, I don't know, but I certainly won't be keeping a very respectable distance if that's alright with you," Draco said, resting his hands on her hips while backing her into the stone wall.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, "I don't mind at all," She replied.

Draco leaned in, pressing his lips to her's as her hand tangled in his hair, manicured fingernails scratching gently at his scalp.

His arm slid around her waist, large palm pressing against the small of her back and pulling her body closer to himself. His thumb traced over her hip bone, grip tightening as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Y/N moaned softly into the kiss, tugging gently on his hair.

The couple pulled apart quickly as someone cleared their throat. Draco wiped her lipstick from his bottom lip with his thumb as Y/N tried to catch her breath, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast.

"Helping Miss L/N return to her dormitory are you, Mister Malfoy?" Snape questioned.

"Yes, Sir," Draco replied.

"No snogging in the hallways," Snape stated, walking off down the hallway.

Draco burst out laughing as soon as Snape was out of earshot.

Y/N smiled, swatting his chest, "That was not funny, Draco! I'm absolutely mortified," She scolded half-heartedly.

"Of all the people in the world who could have possibly caught us snogging," Draco laughed with a shake of his head. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they continued on their way to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

They arrived at the entrance to her dorm far too soon for Draco's liking. He watched her input the password before the door opened.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Draco," Y/N said.

"I did too," He nodded.

"I love you," She smiled, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin gently.

Y/N pulled away and he smiled down at her, "I love you too," He said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N stepped away from him, "Sleep well, Draco," She said softly.

"You too," He replied, watching her step into her dormitory.

The door closed behind her and Draco walked back to the Slytherin dormitory with a smile on his face. He got changed, flopping back onto his bed with a happy sigh.

Draco looked over at his nightstand, there was a picture of him and Y/N. They were talking, she laughed at something he said and he just smiled at her.

It was his absolute favorite picture of them.

The picture made him think about what his life could be like, he could see a future with Y/N and he wanted it more than anything.

Draco wanted Y/N more than anything.

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #hogwarts #hermione granger #ron weasley #albus dumbledore

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malfoysanctuary · 11 days ago

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In the Palm of Your Hands

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: He had never been one for softness, never let himself crave the warmth of another—not until you. And now, with your fingers tracing constellations along his skin, he realizes just how starved he is for a touch that doesn't wound but soothes.

Continue reading below ⬇

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The first time you touch him, really touch him, he stiffens.

It's subtle—the way his shoulders lock, the sharp intake of breath that never quite makes it out as an exhale—but you feel it beneath your fingertips. A reaction so ingrained in him, so deeply embedded, that you can almost hear the unspoken thought running through his mind: Bracing. Preparing. Waiting.

For what? You don’t want to know.

But what you do know is this: he isn’t used to being touched gently. He isn’t used to fingers that soothe rather than strike, to warmth that doesn’t burn.

Your fingers ghost down his forearm, slow and deliberate, barely there. You give him time—to pull away, to stop you, to tell you this is something he doesn’t want.

But he doesn’t move.

He only stares down at where your hand meets his skin, as if the sensation is foreign, unreal. His breath is shallow, controlled, but you feel the tremor beneath his skin. Not fear. Not discomfort. Something else.

Need.

Hunger.

A quiet, aching sort of yearning, as if he wants nothing more than to lean into the warmth of your touch but doesn’t know how.

You thread your fingers through his, locking your hands together fully. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

His jaw tightens. “I’m not.”

You squeeze his hand once. “Then why do you look like you’re about to bolt?”

His laugh is hollow, humorless. “Because I don’t—” He stops himself, as if realizing the weight of his own words. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You soften, running your thumb over his knuckles. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me be here.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. But then, just as you think he might pull away, he exhales, his body sagging ever so slightly. Not much. But enough.

And it’s a start.

It doesn’t happen all at once.

At first, it’s just the small things. Your hand resting briefly on his arm as you pass in the corridors. Your fingers skimming over his when you hand him a book in the library. The way your thigh presses against his beneath the table in the Great Hall.

He never stops you.

But he never asks for it, either.

Until one night, when something shifts.

It’s late. The fire in the common room burns low, the castle silent save for the distant howl of the wind outside. You find him by the window, his silhouette outlined by moonlight, his expression distant.

You hesitate for only a moment before walking up behind him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He shakes.

The tremor is slight, barely there, but you feel it.

“Hey,” you murmur, stepping around to face him fully. “You okay?”

His gaze flickers to yours, something unreadable behind his eyes. He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches out, hesitant but deliberate, his fingers brushing against your wrist. A silent question. A plea.

You answer by taking his hand and guiding him back to the couch. He lets you, lets you pull him down beside you, lets you wrap your arms around him as he tenses—just for a moment—before melting against you.

And Merlin, does he melt.

His head falls against your shoulder, his body pressing into yours, like he’s trying to crawl into your skin, like he can’t get close enough. His breath is warm against your neck, ragged and uneven. You feel the way his hands tighten around the fabric of your sweater, the way his fingers dig in like he’s afraid you’ll let go.

You don’t.

Instead, you shift so he can press his face into the crook of your neck, your fingers threading into his hair, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, lips brushing against his temple. “I promise.”

His exhale is shaky. “I—” His voice cracks. He swallows. “I don’t know why this is so—”

“Hard?” you finish for him.

A small nod against your skin.

You sigh softly, tightening your hold. “Because no one ever taught you it could be easy.”

He stills.

And then, after a long pause, he whispers, “No.”

Your heart clenches.

You pull back just enough to cup his face in your hands, tilting his chin so he has to meet your gaze. His eyes are dark, guarded, but there’s something raw beneath the surface. Something vulnerable.

You stroke your thumb along his cheekbone, softer than anything he’s ever known. “It can be easy,” you murmur. “With me, it will be.”

His breath catches, and for the first time, he doesn’t just let you hold him.

He leans into it.

And he doesn’t let go.

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #dracomalfoy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy #shifting to hogwarts #hogwarts houses #hogwarts oc #slytherin #wizarding world #oneshot #imagines #x reader #female reader #reader insert #fem reader #Spotify

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shortnspidey · 16 days ago

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QUIDDITCH COLLISIONS

draco malfoy x fem!slytherin!reader || WC: 4.9K

SUMMARY: Unlike your famous boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, your personality was a refreshing change from the typical Slytherin arrogance. You often challenge Draco's aggressive behavior, amusing some and annoying others. But when Draco gets seriously injured in a brutal Quidditch match, a chilling protectiveness surfaced. Anyone who dared to cross him or speak ill of him faced the real reason you were sorted into Slytherin. The ambition and ruthlessness of the house now burned within you, fueled by the fear of losing him.

WARNINGS: established relationship, soft!draco, steamy kissing, cursing, typical Harry Potter themes, Cedric Diggory is alive and well, quidditch injuries, hurt-comfort themes

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! My first Draco fic is dedicated to all my fellow single people spending Valentine's day alone!! I'm such a sucker for soft Draco! Hope you all enjoy! Beautiful dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3

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➩ harry potter masterlist

The icy wind bit at your face as you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the frost clinging to your eyelashes. Yet, you couldn't help but grin as you marched into the Great Hall. You knew Daphne was probably already teasing you about it, but you didn't care. You were wearing Draco's Quidditch jumper, and it smelled faintly of wood, citrus, and his signature cologne that you loved dearly.

As you neared the Slytherin table, a sea of faces washed over you – stony expressions, bored glances, and the occasional whispered conversation. Then, you spotted him. Draco Malfoy, a beacon of platinum hair and shockingly vibrant emerald green jumper, stood out amongst the crowd. He seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion with Theo and Blaise, his brow furrowed in concentration, a grim set to his jaw.

The usual arrogance seemed to be replaced by a genuine intensity, making him appear even more captivating than usual. Enzo spotted you first. Letting out a dramatic sigh of relief that could be heard across the Great Hall, he pushed himself away from the table and speed-walked towards you. His usually carefree demeanor was replaced by a look of genuine distress.

Before you could even greet him with a smile, he had reached you, his hand firmly grasping your wrist. "Come on," He muttered, practically dragging you towards the end of the table. “Well good morning to you too, Enzo.” You retorted sarcastically matching his pace. You saw him look anxiously between you and your boyfriend, who, completely oblivious to your arrival, continued his animated conversation with Theo and Blaise, his voice rising in frustration.

"Please, for the love of Merlin, make him stop." He huffed motioning over to his cousin. "What's going on?" You questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. Enzo simply shrugged, a helpless expression gracing his features. "Ask him yourself." He muttered, sinking back into his chair as if to avoid the impending storm. "Draco," You called out softly, your voice a gentle murmur in the otherwise boisterous Great Hall. He didn't even flinch.

"Love," You tried again, adding a saccharine sweetness to your voice that would have made even Honeydukes' most potent sweets blush. Finally, as if snapping out of a trance, his grey eyes met yours. They were stormy, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else… something you couldn't quite place. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the storm subsided. His entire tense demeanor immediately softened, the lines of anger disappearing from his face.

"Darling," He breathed out, his voice a low rumble, reaching for your manicured hand and pulling you closer, as if to convince himself you were real. He held your hand tightly, his fingers intertwining with yours, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. "Thank Salazar she's here." You heard Theo exasperate, his expression mirroring Enzo's. You ignored their commentary, solely focused on the boy in front of you. Now that you were closer, you could see the bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual flawless complexion.

He looked exhausted, and that made your heart ache. "Did you get any sleep last night?" You asked him softly, reaching out to caress his cheekbone, your fingers tracing the lines of fatigue etched on his face. As if you were the only two people in the Great Hall, he nuzzled his face into your palm, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, now held a warmth that surprised you. They traced over your figure, lingering on his quidditch number and last name embroidered on your chest.

"You look absolutely breathtaking in my jumper," He purred, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. The compliment would have normally made your knees buckle, but you knew him well enough to know it was a tactic to get you distracted, a playful attempt to avoid confronting the emotions that were clearly swirling beneath the surface. "Draco," You chastised, squeezing his hand, a silent plea to get him to express what was on his mind. "Is this about the match later today?" You questioned, taking a wild guess as to why his attitude was all over the place.

As if on cue, his facial expressions said everything his words didn't convey. The grimace making a reappearance, twisting his features into a mask of pure fury. His eyes, now held a dangerous glint. "Fucking Cavendish," He spat venomously, the word tasting like bile in his mouth. Now it all made sense. Bryce Cavendish, Hufflepuff seeker, and as of now Draco's sworn enemy. Which said a lot, considering Harry Potter had always been at the very top of his list.

"He was up all night." Blaise mumbled, his eyes darting nervously towards Draco. "Reviewing plays for hours," Theo added with a scoff, his voice barely a whisper. If looks could kill, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott would both be six-feet under with the way Draco was looking at them. His gaze, icy and lethal, sent a shiver down their spines. "Draco," You coaxed, taking a seat next to him, hoping to somehow diffuse his anger. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, his muscles tensing beneath your touch.

"We've talked about this. You can't let him get to you." He sighed, running a hand down his face in frustration, the lines of anger deepening on his forehead. "I know, darling," He admitted, his voice rough with suppressed fury. "But the bastard knows how to get inside my bloody head." Looking up at the three boys in front of you, judging by their expressions you knew Draco was already way over his head about this match in particular. "You're the best seeker in all of Hogwarts," You praised, smoothing out the crease in his perfectly pressed tie.

"He's just jealous," You added with a reassuring smile, punctuating your words with a sweet kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes momentarily, leaning into your touch, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. A contented sigh escaped his lips, a low rumble that vibrated against your ear. "Thank you, darling," He muttered so softly under his breath, if you hadn't been close you were sure you wouldn't have heard him. "I'm sure I'll get over it before the match." He reassured, his gaze, though still a little guarded, held a warmth that melted away the last remainder of his earlier anger.

Yet before you could even continue to ask him what was actually bothering him, he threw an arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer, his hand resting possessively on your waist. Luckily for him, Pansy arrived at the table, her voice a shrill counterpoint to the hushed murmurs of the Great Hall. "Y/N, you will not believe who I just saw…" She began, her voice a whirlwind of gossip and exaggerated pronouncements. Her arrival pulled your attention away from your boyfriend and the lingering tension that still clung to him, replaced by a forced smile and a polite inquiry into Pansy's latest conquest.

Draco, in fact, did not get over it. All throughout your shared Potions class, you'd catch him zoning off, his gaze flitting around the room. He would absentmindedly tap his foot against the stone floor, a nervous habit you hadn't noticed before. Unfortunately for him, you weren't the only one who seemed to notice his off-putting behavior. Snape, his eyes narrowed to slits like a venomous snake, watched Draco with disdain. You could only guess what was going through his mind as he calculated his best students every move.

Thankfully, you were able to turn Draco's attention back to the task at hand before Snape could intervene. You gently nudged his elbow with yours, a silent message that you were there for him. He looked up, startled, his eyes meeting yours. A flicker of gratitude passed, before he quickly returned his attention to the bubbling potion in his cauldron, trying to focus on the task at hand. You knew the last thing Draco needed was to get reprimanded before his big match. He was already battling enough inner demons without Snape adding to his inner turmoil.

After class was over, you barely had time to blink before Draco was jumping out of his seat, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rushing out of the classroom, presumably towards the Quidditch pitch. As you gathered the rest of your belongings, your eyes connected with Hermione Granger's who seemed to share your expression of concern. After all, Draco's personality was known to be strong and passionate in a classroom setting, but his competitive spirit, when ignited, could be truly terrifying.

You gave her a reassuring smile, trying to project an air of confidence you didn't entirely feel, before making way out of the classroom yourself. Holding your books tightly to your chest, you made a beeline for Draco's dormitory, the stone walls of the castle looming large around you. You needed to see him before the match, to make sure he was alright. Reaching his room, you quickly dropped off your books and grabbed yours his favorite scarf, wrapping it securely around your neck, knowing it would be bitterly cold on those stands.

As you walked towards the Quidditch pitch, the vibrant green of the field a stark contrast against the grey stone of the castle, the nauseating pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. It was like a physical manifestation of your fear, twisting and churning within you. Although Draco had played against Hufflepuff before, these matches had always been a mere formality. But ever since Bryce Cavendish had joined the Hufflepuff team, something had shifted. Draco, usually so confident and arrogant, had become strangely subdued, preoccupied with thoughts that seemed to weigh heavily on his mind.

Anytime you'd even try to bring up the subject, Draco would resort to his usual tactics to shift the conversation away from what was truly bothering him. Thankfully, Enzo was able to sneak you past Madame Hooch, her attention momentarily diverted by a particularly boisterous group of Hufflepuffs. You knew he needed a little positive reassurance before the match, if not you were certain the boys would all get their heads chewed off by the time the first bludger flew.

As you neared the entryway of the boy's changing rooms, you spotted Enzo, Blaise, and Theo leaning against the wall, their faces a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. "How's he doing?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes searching the room for any sign of Draco. "Hasn't lost his quip and sarcasm that's for sure," Blaise replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "He's been giving poor Theo a hard time about his choice of socks." You let out a small laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "That’s good," You whispered, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips.

Theo, ever the observant one, noticed the shift in your demeanor. "He'll be fine, Dolcezza. He's a Malfoy. He thrives on competition." You nodded, though the lingering anxiety still clung to you. "I know," You murmured, "But… I just worry." You admitted. "We all do," He admitted, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare display of vulnerability. "He's our friend, after all." Just as you were about to respond, the doors to the changing rooms opened and out walked the rest of the Slytherin quidditch boys, all except Draco.

"He kicked everyone out," Adrian Pucey explained, his voice subdued, "Said he needed a moment alone." That was your cue. With a surge of adrenaline, you pushed past the remaining boys, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. With a final deep breath, you pushed open the door to the changing room, your heart pounding in your chest. If there was one thing that never failed to make you swoon, it was Draco in his Quidditch gear. The emerald green of the Slytherin robes seemed to deepen the grey hue of his eyes, making them sparkle with an almost predatory like intensity.

His usually pale skin was flushed with a healthy color, and his normally perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, giving him a rugged, almost dangerous charm. He looked every inch the confident, arrogant Slytherin, but beneath the bravado, you knew there was a vulnerability, a fierce protectiveness that only you were privileged to witness. "Shouldn't you be outside along with everyone else?" You questioned watching as his body tensed momentarily upon hearing your voice. He hadn't expected you. You could see it in the way his eyes widened slightly, the way his jaw clenched. "You shouldn't be here," He muttered, a frown creasing his forehead.

"Enzo let me in," You explained, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Besides," You added, walking towards him, "Who's going to keep you motivated and wish you good luck before your match?" He grinned, the tension that had been plaguing him earlier visibly melting away, replaced by a warmth that spread across his features. He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "You," He said, his voice husky, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Always you." He leaned in, his eyes searching yours, a mixture of longing and possessiveness burning within them.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head up, meeting his lips with a fervor that mirrored his own. His kiss was demanding, passionate, a whirlwind of emotions that swept you off your feet. The world around you faded away, leaving only the intensity of his touch, the taste of mint and something faintly metallic, the scent of his cologne mixing with the earthy aroma of the changing room. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands tracing the contours of his face, memorizing every curve, every imperfection.

He groaned softly against your lips, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the strength of his arms around you, a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Time seemed to cease to exist, replaced by the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses, the intoxicating scent of him. Finally, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “There’s plenty more of where that came from, after you win.” Upon hearing the implication in your words, a mischievous glint returned to his eyes.

You smiled, your heart pounding against your ribs. "Now go out there and show them what you're made of. Go kick some Hufflepuff arse!" He grinned, his eyes sparkling with a newfound confidence. "For you," He murmured, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips before turning and striding towards the field, his Quidditch robes swirling around him. You watched him go, your heart overflowing with pride and a fierce protectiveness of your own. Sneaking out, before Madame Hooch could scold you, you made your way towards the stands.

Your chest burned with pride among seeing fellow Slytherin’s decked out in house pride, eagerly awaiting the match to start. "Where were you?" Pansy pulled you into her side, eager to shield herself from the cold. "You were gone forever!" Astoria, who was beside you, smirked. "Oh Pans," She drawled, reaching over to poke your rosy cheek. "Just look at her." She pointed to your blushing complexion, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I bet you ten galleons that Malfoy and her were snogging." She snickered. "Shut up!" You exclaimed, though a blush crept up your neck despite your denial. You knew Astoria was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit it.

Thankfully, the roar of the crowd as the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams took to the field was able to distract both girls from questioning you further. Draco, resplendent in emerald green, looked every bit the confident Seeker, a glint of determination in his eyes. You watched him from the stands, your heart pounding in your chest. He caught your gaze and gave you a small, encouraging smile, the tension that had plagued him earlier completely gone. At the sound of Madame Hooch’s whistle the match began with a flurry of activity. Bludgers whizzed through the air, narrowly missing players.

Chasers weaved and dodged, their expressions grim as they battled for possession of the Quaffle. Draco, however, remained calm and collected, his eyes scanning the field, ever vigilant for the elusive Golden Snitch. The first few minutes of the game were a fierce battle for dominance. Neither team seemed to have a clear advantage. Then, in a spectacular move, Draco, with a sudden burst of speed, intercepted a Hufflepuff pass, soaring through the air with a grace that took your breath away. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices a thunderous roar that echoed through the stadium.

However, the joy was short-lived. Bryce Cavendish, a look of pure hatred etched on his face, veered sharply towards Draco, his broom dangerously close to colliding with the blonde's. Draco, agile and experienced, managed to avoid the collision, but the near miss seemed to have rattled him. He shook his head, trying to regain his focus, but it was clear that Cavendish had gotten to him. “You can do it, Draco!” You shouted hoping he could hear you over the crowd. Your eyes met Cavenish’s, the smirk on his lips making your fists and jaw clench. Bloody bastard.

The match continued, a tense and hard-fought battle. Draco, despite his initial setback, played with a fierce determination, his every move calculated and precise. He made several impressive catches, weaving through the Hufflepuff defense with a skill that drew gasps from the crowd. But then, disaster struck. As Draco soared through the air, his eyes fixed on the elusive Snitch, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. He felt disoriented, his grip on his broom loosening. You watched in horror as he tried to regain control, but it was too late.

The crowd gasped as Draco plummeted towards the ground. He landed with a sickening thud, his body crumpling against the grass. A hush fell over the stadium, broken only by your panicked cries. You felt your blood run cold. You pushed your way through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest. As you reached Draco's side, the sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs. He lay motionless on the ground, his face pale and drawn, a thin trickle of blood snaking from the corner of his mouth. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, the bone clearly visible protruding through a tear in his robes.

His eyes were closed, his usually arrogant features slack and vulnerable. Madam Hooch was already at his side, her face etched with deep concern, her wand glowing with a soft, diagnostic light. She was muttering under her breath, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a grim understanding. “He’s sustained a number of injuries, a broken arm. He’s also… he’s hit his head quite hard.” She gestured towards a small but rapidly swelling lump on Draco’s temple, half-hidden by his pale blonde hair. “We need to get him to the infirmary immediately.”

You knelt beside Draco, your hand trembling as you reached out to touch his face. His skin was cold and clammy. “Draco?” You whispered, your voice barely audible. There was no response. Panic clawed at your throat, making it difficult to breathe. “Draco, please,” You begged, tears stinging your eyes. You pressed your fingers against his wrist, searching frantically for a pulse. It was faint, thready, almost imperceptible. Madam Hooch placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. “He’s unconscious. We need to move him carefully. I’ll summon a stretcher.” She raised her wand again, this time a burst of red sparks shot into the air, signaling for assistance.

Within moments, two medi-wizards arrived, pushing their way through the throng of onlookers. They knelt beside Draco, their faces professional and detached, a stark contrast to the fear and concern etched on the faces of the students surrounding them. They quickly assessed Draco’s injuries, their movements precise and efficient. You watched as they placed him carefully onto a floating stretcher, securing him with enchanted restraints. As they lifted the stretcher, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Draco’s still form. You followed the medi-wizards as they floated the stretcher through the crowd, your heart a lead weight in your chest.

The whispers of the onlookers followed you, hushed and anxious. You ignored them all. All you could focus on was Draco. That was until out of your peripheral you spotted the man who did this to him. Bryce Cavendish, his face flushed with an adrenaline-fueled high, was grinning triumphantly at the crowd. The cocky smile he was hiding behind his fist made your blood boil. You surged forward, rage blinding you. "You bloody bastard!" Before you could strike, Cedric Diggory, had his hands around your waist, pulling you away from Bryce. "As much as I would love to see you put him in his place, I have a feeling Malfoy needs you right now."

Cedric's words brought you back to reality. You couldn't afford to be distracted by your anger, not when Draco needed you. "Okay," You surrendered pulling yourself out of Cedric's hold. You were never one for conflict, but the way he was smirking cockily, knowing he had succeeded in hurting Draco, made your anger resurface. Before you could even think about it, you were already in front of him, your right arm pulled back, striking him across the face before he could even react. As you heard a sickening crack, when your knuckles met his nose, you felt an unexpected surge of satisfaction. You had never punched anyone in your life, but the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins was exhilarating.

"Consider yourself lucky it wasn't an unforgivable curse," You hissed, your voice dripping with venom, "I won't be as nice if there's ever a next time." He stared at you, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he clutched his now broken nose in pain. "Oi, Diggory!" He hissed, his voice a mixture of pain and indignation. "Aren't you going to do something?" Cedric, who had been watching the exchange, simply shrugged. "I didn't see anything," He replied casually, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Turing towards you, he gave you a reassuring smile, motioning towards the hospital wing. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him, you have my word.” You didn't need to be told twice.

You were sure your fingers were on the verge of bleeding with how much you were picking at them, the raw skin a testament to your anxiety. But that was the least of your problems considering the love of your life was laying motionless in front of you. The crisp, sterile scent of the Medical Wing filled your nostrils, a constant, unwelcome reminder of the gravity of the situation. The only thing keeping you sane was the steady rise and fall of his chest against the sheets.

You were sure the only reason as to why Madam Pomfrey had let you stay overnight was due to how distraught you looked. Your face, pale and tear-stained, was probably a picture of despair. You'd practically begged her, your voice a desperate croak, to let you stay by his side. The thought of leaving him alone, even for a moment, was unbearable. Your grip on his hand did not falter, no matter how uncomfortable the chair was on your back. The hard, unforgiving wood dug into your spine, but you didn't care.

You weren't leaving his side until those grey eyes you loved so much were staring back at you. Each shallow breath he took, each labored rise and fall of his chest, was a precious lifeline, a fragile thread connecting you to the boy who was everything to you. Time seemed to crawl, each agonizing second stretching into an eternity. "I knew I'd find you in here," Theodore Nott's voice interrupted your thoughts, but your eyes stayed glued to Draco. You barely registered his presence, your mind consumed by the fear that gnawed at your insides.

"Dolcezza," He coaxed, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, your eyes red-rimmed and swollen, and managed a weak smile. "He hasn't moved all night, Theo. I'm so fucking worried." Hearing the pain in your voice, the raw, unfiltered fear that laced every word, was all it took for Theo to pull you into an embrace. "He's a stubborn bastard, he'll be alright." He held you close, his own body trembling slightly, as if mirroring your own. “While I admire the sentiment, I’d appreciate if got your hands off my girl, Nott.” Draco’s voice, raspy with sleep, cut through the hushed silence of the hospital wing.

You pulled back from Theo, your eyes widening in surprise. Draco was sitting up in bed, his face pale, bruises darkening on his temple, but his eyes sparkling with amusement nonetheless. "Draco," You breathed out, immediately separating yourself from the brunette boy and carefully climbing into the open arm of your boyfriend. Despite your attempts to be mindful of his bruises and broken arm, he pulled you closer. "I'll go tell the other's you're awake," Theo interrupted giving you and Draco a smile. "I'm glad you're okay, you twit." In response Draco merely waved him off, giving you his undivided attention.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain. "How do you feel?" You asked, your voice soft with concern. He shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "Sore," He admitted, "But otherwise, I feel surprisingly well." You nodded, feeling the tightness in your throat return as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. "Don't ever do that to me again." You whispered, shaking your head. "Darling," He coaxed, raising his hand to wipe the tears from your eyes, his thumb gently tracing the path they had left behind. "Don't cry," He murmured, his voice filled with concern. "You know I hate it when you cry."

"You scared me, so much," You whispered, burying your face in his chest, clinging to him as if he might disappear again. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield, his heart beating a steady rhythm against your ear. Proof that he was okay, and alive. "I'm sorry, love," He murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You both laid there for what seemed an eternity, the silence broken only by the soft rhythmic thumping of his heart and the distant murmur of conversation from the hallway.

Draco couldn't seem to let you get you closer to him, even when you both were practically intertwined. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to both your temples, cheeks, purposely skipping your lips as he grabbed your hand and brought it to his face. "Why are your knuckles red?" He questioned, concern etched on his face. “Well,” A small smile made its way onto your face as you recalled what you did. "I might have punched the daylights out of Cavendish." You muttered nonchalantly. Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "You what?" He questioned, wondering if he had her you correctly or if it was the concussion talking.

"He used a Confundus Charm on you," You explained, shrugging your shoulders as if it were no big deal. "And I wasn't going to let it slide." Draco stared at you, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. He burst out laughing, his laughter echoing through the quiet room. "You," He managed to get out between laughs, "You actually punched him." You couldn't help but laugh with him. It felt good, exhilarating even. You had never punched anyone before, but standing up for Draco, protecting him, it felt… right. You looked up to find him already looking at you with nothing but pure adoration.

"Merlin, I love you so fucking much." Before you could react and reciprocate his words, he had grasped the sides of your face before pulling you into an unexpected kiss. This kiss, unlike the one you two shared on the pitch, was different. It was raw, vulnerable. It held so much love and so much fear all at once. It was as if the world around you had faded away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. The intensity of emotions was overwhelming, a silent conversation of hearts beating in sync. Every touch, every breath, every lingering second felt like a promise, a confession, and a plea all rolled into one.

"That's my girl," He praised as you separated for air yet he remained close. Nose to nose. Chest to chest. “My brave and badass girl, I can’t believe you punched someone for little old me.” You couldn’t help but blush at his words, no matter how many times you had heard him say them before. "I love you too," You echoed giving him a chaste kiss despite his intentions to deepen it. "Consider yourself very lucky to have someone like me, Malfoy." You smirked playfully pushing his platinum locks away from his eyes. The ones that were currently looking at you as if you hung the stars. "Always do, darling." He admitted, pulling you into another kiss which stifled your giggle. Lucky indeed.

thanks for reading! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3

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lqveharrington · 2 months ago

Text

Loathing | D.M.

summary: you and draco have loathed one another since first year, but you know something happened over the summer before your sixth year. he had changed.

pairing: rival!draco malfoy x potter!reader

includes: fluff, angst, bleeding, both of them being oblivious, both of them taking care of each other

a/n: unadulterated loathing (guess who watched wicked last week?)

The moment you met Draco Malfoy – well, the moment he insulted one of your friends and then wanted to be friends with your brother – you knew you would loathe him for the rest of your life. From every glare from across the room to house rivalries, you loathed him for all you had. Especially when he ruined your Yule Ball experience by knocking the eggnog on you and refusing to explain why, only glaring instead.

But something changed in your sixth year. He changed.

Usually, the second you got on the train to Hogwarts, he would find you and start with the insults, but this year was different. Hell, when you were trying to find Harry on the train when you got to Hogwarts, Draco walked past you without even sparing a glance. He wasn’t even in his Slytherin robes, he was just in a black suit.

Then when the quidditch season started, you learned that he had quit his position as seeker and chance as quidditch captain. You were surprised he lost almost all interest in the sport itself when he used to brag on and on about how good he was at the game. Everything he used to egg you on about was close to nothing, and it worried you just a little.

You knew something was different – he was different – and wanted to know what happened, but you knew your friends couldn’t care less about the Slytherin Prince.

“Hermoine, please tell me you noticed something wrong with Malfoy.” You murmur and enter the potions room, eyes instantly meeting the gray and blue eyes you were speaking of. He quickly averted his gaze and stared down at his potions book instead, making you frown. “He hasn’t been throwing enough insults at us this year.”

“Is that not a good thing?” She creases her brows and takes her seat beside you, pulling her potions book out of her bag. Hermione looks at you with slight unease, not really understanding why you were asking in the first place. “Besides, why should you care? Don’t you hate him?”

You don’t respond, only spinning your ring and bringing your attention back to the Slytherin Prince himself, your teeth kissing your lips in your own turmoil. He looked so tired and… Helpless. You wanted to understand what he was going through despite everything he had put you through. He was still a student at Hogwarts. It may seem out of the ordinary from your usual loathing, but if something serious was going on, you hoped to Godric that he would be okay.

For the rest of class, Slughorn assigned the most ridiculous sounding potion to create. It was supposedly the most powerful love potion in existence and when Slughorn said it could help anyone identify their true love, you doubted it. It was only when Harry properly made the potion did you test the theory out. It seemed like Lavender was having a day with the potion and kept batting her eyes at Ron, making you and Hermoine roll your eyes in annoyance.

When Slughorn called the rest of the class in pairs to come over to smell the potion and describe what they smelled, you still believed people made up with what they smelled. You thought they were just believing they smelled the person they liked. From Hermione smelling freshly-mown grass and new parchment to Harry smelling some kind of sweets, it seemed quite fake.

And you could have gotten away with not having to smell the potion when you unashamedly yawned the second Slughorn turned to look over.

“Miss Potter, since you and Mr. Malfoy seem to have found this task boring, why don’t you both come up and tell me what you smell.” Slughorn beckoned you up toward Harry’s cauldron.

Pursing your lips, you do your best not to roll your eyes as you made your way over to the cauldron, only to be overwhelmed with Draco’s cologne when smelling the potion. You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, noticing he was just as confused as you.

“Maybe tone down the cologne, Malfoy.” You mutter to him and try to find a scent that wasn’t just his stupid cologne.

He rolled his eyes at you and leaned his head down, practically hissing into your ear. “Me? Your fucking shampoo is blocking all my senses right now.”

“Like you can smell that right now.” You turn your own head and glare at him, the tension growing larger and larger.

As if you were in a staring contest of who could hate the other more, you forgot about the class and only the loathing you felt for the blonde in front of you. However, the class soon began to felt the tension, uncomfortable with how you two were behaving. Whispers began to fill the air, but you two continued to bicker.

“Maybe use less product, Potter.” Draco suggested and flicked a piece of your hair off your shoulder, ignoring the way his cheeks flamed at how close the two of you were at the moment.

You crossed your arms and squinted, hating how he had to bend just to be at eye level to you. “Says the one practically bathes in Dior Sauvage—”

“Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter, please, go back to your seats. We have gathered all the information we need.” Slughorn spoke with an amused smile.

For the rest of the week, it seemed like the entire student body was pointing to you and whispering. Even if you were just switching classes or sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Hermione, eyes averted to you before they eventually turned away when they caught your eyes.

You didn't understand what was going on. It felt like everyone you knew began to have a knew found hatred toward you and it bugged you. Even Harry gave you questioning looks from time to time. You don't remember doing anything cruel and vile.

Eventually, you did give up guessing why everyone was giving you dirty looks. You ignored all their staring and only acknowledged the people you knew didn't mean any harm toward you. It soon became a habit for you to leave the trio alone for a good hour or two, spending time to practice spells in the room of requirements; Mainly casting your Patronus and watching it have the time of its life.

Well, until one day the room began to change on its own.

“Hello? Room of requirements?" You stood abruptly and looked around at the changing room, your Patronus dissipating in thin air.

The room began to shift in size, becoming quite large in size with piles and piles of junk. As you tripped over the old trinkets decorating the room — trying to find the exit to the ever expanding room — you cut yourself on the sudden arrival of a rusted sword.

Holding your cut hand close to you body, you glared at the room like it was your least favorite thing in the entire world. "This is not what I asked—“

“Fuck.”

You heard the voice whisper before you jumped back in surprise when the person banged on something wooden. So someone who needed the room more came. That's why. As you tried to make your way out a give the person privacy, you tripped back into another pile of junk, making you wince.

“Shit.” You mutter and do your best to remove yourself from the pile, pursing your lips when you heard footsteps approach you.

Before you could even try to hide, the said person appeared right in front of you with their wand pointed at your face. You followed the wand up until you met their eyes, making you inwardly groan at your luck.

“What are you doing?” You spoke at the same time, both of you rolling your eyes at the same time.

Hastily, you stood up from your spot on the dirtied floor and dusted your clothes off, mentally cursing yourself for being ever so clumsy.

“I asked you first, Potter.” Draco tucked his wand away, glancing down at your bleeding hand. He frowned and moved around you.

You stepped away from him, still nursing your hand. Unsure of what he was going to do, you simply answered the question truthfully.

“I was using the room to practice my spells, but it changed because apparently your needs were far more important than mine.” You watched him dig through dusted cabinets and drawers, looking for something. “Now answer mine.”

“I don’t have to.” He muttered and pulled out some type of cleanser and a kit, making you recoil at the sight. You hated the doctors and it seemed like Draco was ready to operate on your hand.

“You know? I think I should go before—" You start before he raised a brow at you, looking down at your injured hand and then back up to your eyes. "What?"

“You could get in trouble, you know?” He gestured to your hand before guiding you to sit on a bed that seemed too clean to be one of the old trinkets lying around before. "You need to clean your hand before it gets infected. Everything in here is old and dusted."

"Then I will clean my hand on my own, thank you very much." You yank the cleanser from his hands and pop the cap open. You stared at your wound before looking at the bottle, already regretting your choice.

"What?" He looked over your face, noticing the hesitation in your facial expression. "Do you need me to do it?"

"Yes, please." You whisper quickly, shutting your eyes tightly when you felt him lightly dab your cut with the cleanser. You bit your lip when it stung, nodding when he told you it would be over in a second.

“I'm done." Draco murmured and threw the cloth in the trash, watching you slowly open your eyes and look at your now bandaged hand. He nodded at you before standing, finding his way back over to a wooden cabinet.

You looked around the place, noticing the fresh bedsheets and glass of water that surely hasn't been sitting there for Godric knows how long. Tucking your injured hand in your free one, you wandered the small sleeping area before stopping at all the books piled next to it.

"Malfoy, what are you doing in here?" You take a book from the top of the pile and read its title. The Fundamentals of Vanishing Cabinets. You raised your brows in curiosity, looking over at him to find him already staring. "Well?"

“Like I said, I don't have to answer you.” He murmured and stepped toward you, taking the book from your hands.

You stared at him and frowned. His image was even worse up close. You could see the bags underneath his eyes and the gel from his hair completely gone from how many times he ran his fingers through his hair. When he glanced down at you, you were once again millimeters from each other before you both pulled away in confusion and guilt, like your skin was on fire.

“Are you getting enough sleep?" You ask as he walks toward the cabinet again, but this time, you followed him over. "I don't see you eat enough during dinner either."

“You watch me, Potter?” He spoke in amusement, lips turning down to hide the smirk that wanted to present itself to you.

“What? No!" You splutter out and look away, face flamed in warmth. "Only in hatred.”

"Whatever you say." He murmured and began tinkering with the cabinet, placing a green apple on the top shelf. "Stalker." He whispered, earning an annoyed glare from you.

“Just answer the question. Why did the room change to this mess?” You look at the bed you assumed his stayed in and then change your gaze toward the cabinet he seemed so intent on working on. “And why are you spending all your time on this old cabinet?“

He opened his mouth to speak when he winced and clutched his left forearm, making you panic ever so slightly. Draco moved to sit on the bed, pursing his lips and trying to think of anything but the pain being emitted on his arm.

You frown and take his arm in your hands, pulling his sleeve up only to silently gasp in surprise. Draco pulled his arm away and tugged the sleeve down, glaring at you.

“You’re a death eater.” You look at him with wide eyes, stepping back in shock. You looked between his arm, his frantic eyes, and then the cabinet. Your head was reeling at all the information you learned. "You got the dark mark—"

“You can’t tell anyone.” Draco whispered, almost pleading you to not tell a soul. If you told Harry, then everything would go to shit. But when he saw your face clear of all shock and shift to remorse, he knew you wouldn't go against his wishes despite him being a real threat to you and your brother.

“Why? Why did…” You move closer and clutch his arm, pulling his sleeve up again and wanting to trace the design. When he stopped you, you looked up and knew it would hurt. You nodded and thumbed the skin below it, eyes looking over the ink. “You didn’t have a choice, did you?”

Draco nodded and shut his eyes when you continued to thumb the empty space, opening them when you stopped. He knew that the gears were turning in your head when you stared at him like he was you next project — which he knew you would never call him that despite the loathing you had for him.

After seconds of silence, you open your mouth and speak softly, thumb moving over the space once more. “Can't you tell Dumbledore at all? Maybe he could do something to protect you—“

“That’s not how it works.” Draco stopped your movements and tugged his sleeve down. He caught you hesitating to look over the mark again, tilting his head to the side when you took a seat beside him. "Why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?" You murmur and trace the bandage over your hand before looking up at him, meeting his blue-gray eyes. "I can leave if you want me to. But I want to know if you'll be okay if I leave first."

You kept eye contact with him for a little longer before looking away, eyes finding interest in a silver crown in the corner. You weren't sure why you cared so much about him. It was like a switch flipped on in your mind. In all your years at Hogwarts, his taunting was a constant in your life. So when that went away, you knew something was wrong and you wanted to make sure he was okay, even if your brother hated him. It was an instinct you suddenly gained.

"Why?" He stared at the mirror across from him, catching your eyes through the reflection once more. "Is it because you want more material to tease me about?"

"Godric, no." You huff and run your fingers through your hair. "I'm not a monster, Malfoy." You let a small smile slip through when he raised his brow at you. "I'm not a monster!"

"Not saying you are, Potter." He finally smiled at you. But even through the smile, you could see how exhausted he was. With whatever he was doing for the Dark Lord, you just hoped he would be fine in the end. "If I tell you I'll be okay, will you leave me be so I can finish my task?"

You turn your head to look at him properly, looking in between his eyes. You sighed and broke eye contact, "Yes." You look back up and find him millimeters away again, making you squint. "If you don't come to potions tomorrow with any kind of retort, I will be in here waiting for you, understand?"

He rolled his eyes and nodded, "Whatever gets you out of here, Potter."

Nodding, you stand and dust off your clothes once more. Talking with Draco civically was quite a feat, but you knew it was for the better or worse. But just before you could leave the room, you heard his voice ring out to you once more, you first name falling from his lips instead of your last.

"Don't use that strong of a shampoo anymore, yeah?"

You send him a half smile, "Only if you don't apply your entire bottle of cologne."

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anordinarymuse · 9 months ago

Text

unrecognizable.

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: big fight leading to breakup :(

Warnings: angst, established relationship

Word Count: a little less than 1k perhaps

a/n : dialogue mildly based off of real life + if anyone wants to submit angst requests (possibly including dialogue or song inspo🥹🥹) pls do!! trying to get back into it

navigation.

request here.

Arms were crossed as you faced the freshly discharged from the hospital wing Draco, your cheeks hot from anger and frustration. It was the day after Katie Bell returned from St. Mungos, and the rumors were that Draco had cursed her—and you knew it was the truth.

Once you witnessed Draco’s reaction in the Great Hall and found him after his fight with Harry, you clicked two and two together. All the times he was “up late night studying” or “asking professors last minute homework questions,” he was actually working on the cursed necklace.

“This is how you are Y/N. It doesn’t matter what I say. I tell the truth, you’d be upset. I tell a white lie, you’re still upset!” Draco shouts, his voice echoing off the walls of the abandoned classroom the two of you had been fighting in for what felt like forever now.

“Fine. You’re right I’m still upset, but-” You take a small step backward, noticing he’s grabbed a ruler to fidget with. “The truth counts for something.”

Draco bites the inner of his cheek before responding coldly, “I can’t say anything because if your other friends finds out, then it’ll be my neck at the end of the Dark Lord’s wand, not theirs. Everything I’m working on it’s- it’s too important to be fucked up.”

This selfish asshole, you thought to yourself. Draco convinced himself that he wasn’t like the others, convinced you even, but he truly was no different.

“You almost killed Katie Bell. Can’t you get that in your head? You almost killed her,” the images of Katie’s still and ghostly state, from when you visited her at St. Mungos, flicker like a reel in your mind. “Is it a crime to try and save her life?!”

“See, right there. That’s why you can’t know the truth. I can’t trust you. I can’t trust you with my life because you’re busy trying to save theirs!” And there it goes, your breath hitches as Draco violently chucks the rules across the room. It flies right past your cheek, cracks against the wall, and clatters against the floor.

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N. You’re supposed to be on my side,” Draco asserts darkly, slowly brooding toward you. With each step he takes forward, you take one back, until your back hits the wall behind you.

“Your side? And what side are you on Draco?” You challenge him angrily.

You search his gaze for the Draco you’d called your own, and he’s not there—only a stranger. Instead, Draco’s glare sends chills down your spine, and the hope that he’d come around begins to crackle and snap just like the ruler he had flung.

“Maybe…maybe it’s time we call this,” you attempt to say calmly, though your lip visibly quivers and the words leave your tongue a bitter aftertaste.

Draco furrows his brow, taken aback, “What? Don’t throw away everything we have because you’re pissed off.”

You avoid eye contact, but Draco, as a last saving grace, reaches to gently cup your cheek he says softly, “Y/N, I love you, you know this-“

“You don’t trust me, and you can’t tell me the truth,” you interrupt quietly, turning your cheek just slightly away from Draco’s palm, “This love you’re talking about, that- that can’t be enough.”

Draco takes a step back, and his facade dissipates. “Do you want to be next victim? If I tell you sensitive information Y/N, it makes you the target. Better Katie Bell than you.”

“Do you hear yourself right now? It’s mental.“

“You can’t leave me. You’re all I have-“

“No, I’m not. If I were, you wouldn’t concern yourself with the offensive actions of He Who Must Not Be Named.”

Draco goes silent, and you take it as an opportunity strike again.

“You tell me this-” you grab his forearm to reveal the Dark Mark, at your touch his body cringes, but you force yourself to ignore his discomfort, “-means nothing to you, but it does.”

Draco tears his wrist from your grasp before replying weakly, “I have no choice, Y/N.”

You study him long and hard, words collecting at your lips, but you don’t know how to express them. He doesn’t get it, he won’t ever understand.

With that in mind, you pivot toward the door. Immediately, Draco launches forward, grabbing your wrist and tugging you backward. His other hand rises to your chin, turning your face to look him directly in the eye, “Don’t. Walk away from me, and it’s really over,”

It sounded dramatic and cruel. But you knew what he meant—no more protection to keep the dark side from reaching you. One step and all the safeguards would vanish.

“It’s for the best. I know you know it too,” you say in a low whisper as a single tear slides down your cheek.

With that his grip on your wrist loosens, and your hand falls to your side. His warmth dissipating leaves chills down your spine, the clock above the chalkboard reverberates with each tick, and any last words have slipped from your mind. You tear your eyes away from Draco’s, whose expression has turned from cold to unforgiving, rather unrecognizable.

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lordprettyflackotara · 4 months ago

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double fantasy || fred weasley and draco malfoy

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: please read bdsm kinks, choking, threesome, dom!draco, dom!fred, sub!reader, overstimulation, squirting, passing out, collar/leash is used, bondage, face fucking, gagging, slapping. this is one of my more bdsm extreme fics, please do not read if it makes you uncomfy <3

“I still think Ron would be a good pick.”

Fred’s voice was crisp as you rolled your eyes, sipping whatever butter beer mixture concoction he had created. “You’re only saying that because Ron doesn’t intimidate you,” You debated. You weren’t technically wrong, but Fred didn’t know your desired choice would be someone who did intimidate him. You adored Fred and every fiber of him. It was unlike you to desire more than just him, but a craving to be filled to the brim by two men was igniting a passion through your bones. So you both attended a Slytherin party, a noisy and uncontrolled affair. You could barely hear each other, nevertheless scope out a potential match. Fred was purposefully picking those he deemed to be ‘losers’.

After all he didn’t want competition, he wanted you to realize he was ultimately better and never want to try it again. But you were aware of your lovers inflated ego. Which is why when your gaze landed on the Slytherin prince, your lips curled upwards into a smile.

“I pick Malfoy.”

Fred spat out his drink, thankful his cup hadn’t stranded too far from his lips. “Malfoy? Have you lost your mind? Was there crack in your drink or something?” Fred asked. He dramatically grabbed your cup, examining its contents for any signs of tampering. “Freddie, just go up to him and ask. Worst he could do is say no,” You replied. Draco matched Fred’s energy in a way. Tall, assertive, dominant, and mean. You couldn’t ignore the way the thought of being between the two of them sent shock waves right to your core. Fred brushed his shirt off, shoving his hands in his pockets as he headed straight towards the snakes den. Draco was surrounded by his usual group, his eyebrows darting up at the sight of Fred approaching. The old childish beef the two had was long discarded, but that didn’t take away Draco’s distain for the whole Weasley family.

The war may have mellowed out the taunting, but nothing could reverse his father’s teachings. You watched Fred pull him away from the group, the two talking amongst each other. Through the spotty lighting you could make out Draco’s face going through a whirlwind of emotions. You wondered if this was a bad idea, contemplating if all of you being mature adults cancelled out any possible ridicule. You were surprised when Draco handed his muggle grass filled blunt back to Theo, exhaling as the two of them approached you. You tried not to appearance nervous, awkwardly setting your cup on a nearby table. Draco reached you first, staring down into your soul coldly. “I think this is a more private matter. Follow me,” He said. You trailed behind him, Fred following behind you. The pair were oddly quiet, as if they could read each others minds.

You swallowed as Draco led you both into his dorm, locking the door behind you. “Strip,” He commanded dryly. He seemed unamused as he dug a small velvet box out of his wardrobe. You chuckled awkwardly, trying to override the silence. “What?” You asked. Fred casually sat down in a nearby chair, man spreading as he did so. “You heard him, strip,” He agreed. Unsurely you followed suit, unzipping your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor. You stepped out of the shimmery material, stepping out of your heels as you did so. Draco glanced at you in his mirror, before scoffing. “Ditch the undergarments, you won’t need them,” He ordered. You felt goosebumps spread across your skin as you unhooked your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. You noted the cocky smirk that was painted across Fred’s lips, watching your every move as you kicked off your panties. “Lay on the bed darling,” Draco said flatly. He seemed to be looking for something specific as he rummaged through his box of mystery.

You did as told, your back relaxing as you laid against the velvet comforter. Draco handed Fred a handful of rope, the two exchanging a nod as your boyfriend approached you. He grabbed your ankle first, tying it to the bed frame. “What’s all this about?” You asked. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation. Fred remained eerily silent as he finished tying you up, spreading you out like a starfish. “Fredrick here decided to let me know that you are such a whore you aren’t satisfied with one cock,” Draco stated. Your eyes widened as you watched him pull out a collar, a shiny chain being pulled out right after. “So I told him that I specialize in taming whores and you need intense training,” He said, finally turning to you. He undid his emerald green tie, the collar and chain in the other hand. “So here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to play with you, as roughly as I want to. And just when you’re about to break, Fred’s gonna come join us, understand?” He asked. You nodded, embarrassed of how much your core was throbbing with desire.

Draco wadded up his tie, crawling on top of you.

“Open your mouth slut.”

Any hesitation Fred had about the whole ordeal faded at the sight of you eagerly opening your mouth. Your pupils were blown with lust, Draco roughly shoving the tie into your mouth. He then ran his hands down your body, admiring the way you melted under his touch. His fingertips were barely grazing your skin, your back arching off the bed in an attempt to get closer to him. Draco roughly grabbed your throat, shoving you back down. “Behave or I won’t let you cum,” He growled. Fred licked his lips as his cock began growing harder in his pants. Draco lowered himself in between your legs, using his index and middle finger to spread open your folds. You whimpered under his inspection, the blonde admiring your dripping cunt. “Such a pretty pussy for a cock whore,” He murmured to himself. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as he smacked your folds, your arms and legs instinctively trying to close. He chuckled darkly as you struggled under the grip of the restraints.

“Nice and red now. I say we make them puffy, hmm?”

You moaned into the tie as he abruptly shoved two fingers into you, your wrists struggling against the restraints. He curled his slender fingers with precision, watching you intently as you grinding your hips against his hand. “So pathetic,” Draco mused. He lowered his mouth to your clit, causing a whole new feeling of pleasure to crash down over you. His tongue was an expert, flicking and his mouth sucking in all the right places. You wanted to clench your thighs around his head, to feel him against your skin. But he kept his distance, reminding you who was in charge as he devoured your cunt. Fred was purposefully watching in awe, refusing to touch himself until the time was right. If he was being honest he feared he would cum too fast to the pornographic sight before him. It wasn’t long before the knot inside of you tightened, your warnings muffled by the tie. Draco grinned in sadistic satisfaction as you came, your heart pounding as he pulled away from your cunt.

Mockingly he opened your folds again, shaking his head. “Not red enough,” He concluded. As if the two were able to read each other’s minds Fred rose from his chair, rummaging through the mysterious velvet box. He pulled out a black vibrator, nonchalantly handing it to Draco. The blonde was quick to turn it on, purposefully placing it on the highest setting. Your whines were muffled as he placed it on your clit, your thighs trembling at the sensation. “Awe what’s wrong darling? Can’t handle a simple toy?” He asked mockingly. Your eyes screwed shut, shocks of pleasure running up your spine. A sharp slap to your thigh made your eyes reopen, a stern look painted across Draco’s face. “Eyes open slut. You close them again and i’ll leave you here for Mattheo and Theo’s entertainment,” He snarled. You whimpered at the thought, your hips involuntarily bucking upwards and grinding shamelessly against the vibrator.

“Cmon slut i’m getting bored,” Draco sighed. He lifted up your folds, placing the vibrator directly on top of your abused clit. Your back arched off of the mattress, your legs shaking violently as you released. Juices you weren’t familiar with squirted from your cunt, your eyes wide as you panted. Draco smirked, looking over at Fred. “I say we ruin her now, what do you think?” He asked. The same mischievous smirk crossed Fred’s lips, the two approaching you. You were dazed as they rearranged you, your elbows and knees digging into the comforter. Draco removed the gag from your mouth, your lungs instantly inhaling as much oxygen as they could. A cold leather collar was secured around your neck, the sound of the chain rattling sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up, Draco glaring down at you. “Open up your mouth,” He barked. Fred yanked on the chain, forcing you to balance yourself on your hands.

Lazily you flattened your tongue out across your bottom lip, Fred’s familiar hands massaging the mounds of your ass. “Fuckin slut, wanting to suck another mans dick?” Fred spat coldly, slapping your ass. Your gasp was the perfect opportunity for Draco to shove himself inside of your mouth, your noise muffled.

“What a dirty cumslut,” Draco sneered, grabbing a handful of your hair. You whimpered at the pain, feeling Fred slide into you with ease. “You’re this fuckin wet? Over being used and abused? Filthy,” Fred growled. Tears flooded your waterline as Fred bottomed out, the ginger not hesitating to repeatedly thrust into you. Draco grinned sadistically as he began his own fun, forcing your jaw to go slack as he face fucked you. As Draco abused your throat Fred yanked at the leash, restricting your airway. You felt light headed, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth as both boys spat degrading profanities. You couldn’t breathe, your vision becoming spotty. Unable to tell them you arched your back, fully leaning onto the collar for support. Your head began to spin, the feeling of another orgasm rising quickly. It didn’t take long for Fred’s warm cum to fill your cunt, or for the taste of Draco’s salty cum to flood your throat. Their strong hands kept you upright, your body shaking as your final orgasm sent you into an unavoidable darkness.

The unlikely duo stared down at your unconscious body, a thick bruise forming around your neck from the collar. Your cunt was red and puffy, full of Fred’s seed. It dripped down your thighs as you peacefully slept, your body spent. It was satisfying in a way, seeing you so content after destroying you. “We should do this again sometime,” Draco said, redressing himself. Fred shot him a dirty look, putting his shirt back on. “Are you suggesting you fuck my girlfriend again?” He asked.

Draco brushed stray hairs out of your face, his caring expression mirroring Fred’s.

“Maybe. But she wants me just as bad. We can make it her perfect double fantasy.”

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incorrectquotesharrypotterv · 9 months ago

Text

Y/n:” I have feelings for Draco.”

Pansy:”Oh?”

Y/n:”It's anger”

Pansy:” You sleep talk about wanting to fuck him. Trust me that's not anger.”

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slytherinsmuse · 2 months ago

Text

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Domestic Chaos | Draco Malfoy ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I guess mention of sexual activity and condoms

Summary: Fluff, Comedy | Draco navigates through muggle life with the love of his life.

Word count: 8966

author's note: I am so sorry that this request took so long. But work has been hell before the holidays. Now that I have some time off I managed to finish it. I hope you like it! @malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy

The first week of living together with Draco Malfoy had been… an adjustment, to say the least.

You smiled to yourself as you wandered down the stairs of your new house, recalling the mix of chaos and charm that came in the start of sharing a home with Draco. Moving in together had been a big step, one you hadn’t expected to take so soon. But after months of navigating your relationship between your cozy Muggle world and his pristine magical one following your graduation from Hogwarts, it only made sense to create a space that was truly suited for the both of you.

Granted, the transition had been smoother for you than it had been for him.

Draco, for all his poise and pure-blood grace, had little to no experience with Muggle life. Your enchanted house—a quirky blend of his velvet armchairs and your mismatched cozy furniture—reflected that perfectly. It was a home where magical portraits coexisted with photo frames from your favorite vacations, where your television and laptop shared a shelf with his collection of ancient spell books.

It was perfect. Except for the moments where Draco had done his best to interact with Muggle appliances.

The faint sound of muffled clattering pulled you towards your kitchen, curiosity outweighing your desire to get yourself a hot mug of coffee. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you padded down the hall toward the kitchen. As you stepped through the doorway, you froze, your grogginess instantly replaced by disbelief at the sight before you.

The dishwasher, a seemingly harmless Muggle machine, stood wide open. Inside, dishes were arranged in what could only be described as abstract art. Draco stood in front of it with his wand drawn, muttering incantations under his breath. A suspiciously green, bubbling potion had been poured into the detergent slot, and—Merlin help him—a set of silver goblets that were very much not dishwasher-safe glinted proudly from the bottom rack.

“Draco.” you said carefully, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, “what are you doing?”

He didn’t flinch, though his wand froze mid-air. “Using this infernal contraption you insisted on bringing into our home.” he replied, his tone clipped.

You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. Our home. The words still gave you butterflies.

“This ‘infernal contraption’ is a dishwasher,” you corrected, stepping closer. “It cleans dishes. Without magic. That’s sort of the point.”

Draco huffed, a faint pink tinting his pale cheeks. “Well, it’s doing a poor job of it so far.”

“Probably because you’re trying to curse it into submission.” You peered into the dishwasher, your eyes widening. “Wait. Is that—oh my God, Draco, is that the antique goblet from your mother’s dining set?!”

He glanced at the goblet, then back at you, feigning innocence. “What? It needed cleaning.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s over 200 years old! You can’t just throw it in a dishwasher!”

“Well, I certainly can’t hand wash it,” he said indignantly, crossing his arms. “Do you know how much trouble the preservation charms require? It’s exhausting.”

“Then maybe don’t drink wine out of a priceless artifact?”

“Then maybe don’t serve wine in cheap glass cups,” he shot back, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “It ruins the wine taste…”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, fine. Touché. But seriously, what is this… potion?” You gestured to the green, bubbling mess in the detergent slot.

“It’s a universal cleaning tonic,” he said proudly. “Far superior to whatever chemical nonsense Muggles use.”

“It’s not even liquid! It’s oozing! You can’t put that in a dishwasher!”

Draco frowned, glancing back at the machine as if it had betrayed him. “So what’s the proper way, then?”

You sighed, grabbing the small box of dishwasher tablets from the counter. “Watch and learn, Pure-blood.”

With a sigh you carefully removed the bubbling mess he had poured into the detergent slot. Draco watched with a mix of curiosity and mild indignation as you wiped it clean with a paper towel.

“This,” you said, holding up one of the tablets from the box, “is what you’re supposed to use.”

Draco tilted his head, eyeing the tablet skeptically. “That tiny thing? How could that possibly clean anything?”

“It’s designed for this, Draco. It dissolves in the water and works its magic—well, not literally, but you get the idea.”

You slid the tablet into the designated compartment and snapped the dishwasher closed, pressing the buttons to set the correct cycle. “And this,” you added, pointing to the buttons, “is how you actually start it. No wand required.”

Draco’s expression was unreadable as the machine hummed to life, its rhythmic sounds filling the kitchen. After a moment, he muttered, “It still seems unnecessarily complicated.”

“Complicated? You were about to duel the dishwasher,” you teased, crossing your arms.

Draco smirked, his signature smugness returning. “And I would’ve won.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you leaned against the counter. “You’re hopeless.”

Before you could say more, you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and his breath tickled your neck.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice softer now, “but I’m learning, aren’t I?”

You snorted, tilting your head slightly as you felt his lips brush against the curve of your neck in a featherlight kiss. “Barely,” you teased, though your tone lacked the bite to make it convincing.

Draco chuckled, the vibration of it humming against your back. His kisses trailed lazily along the side of your neck, his hands tightening ever so slightly around your waist. Just as you began to melt into his warmth, a sharp, electronic beep shattered the moment.

Draco froze, his lips pausing mid-kiss. “What in Merlin’s name was that?” he asked, his voice tense and laced with suspicion.

You laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “That’s just the washing machine.” you explained, finding his baffled expression entirely too adorable. “It beeps when it’s done with a cycle.”

Draco frowned, glancing over at the machine as if it were an intruder. “Why does it need to announce its accomplishments? It’s not as though I announce every time I complete a task.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure about that? Because I distinctly remember you declaring victory the last time you hung up a picture frame.”

Draco scowled, though the faint pink creeping back into his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “That frame was enchanted to repel nails. It was a triumph,” he muttered defensively.

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Draco,” you said, still grinning, “the Muggle world is going to kill you at this rate.”

He grumbled, tightening his hold around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. “Life is unnecessarily complicated without magic,” he muttered, his tone dripping with indignation. “Why would anyone willingly choose this… process over a simple charm?”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Maybe because some of us didn’t grow up with the luxury of a wand to fix all our problems?”

Draco pulled back slightly to look at you, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “You’re saying you willingly endured this madness? What kind of resilience do Muggles possess that I’ve clearly been deprived of?”

“Patience!”

Draco scoffed, stepping back just enough to look at you. “Patience is for people with time to waste,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

You rolled your eyes, slipping out of his arms and heading toward the counter. “Come on, your Highness,” you said over your shoulder, pulling open the breadbox. “Let’s see if you’re capable of making toast without burning it.”

Draco followed you with a mock-offended expression. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of operating a toaster,” he declared, though his hesitation as he glanced at the machine suggested otherwise.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, smirking as you slid a couple of slices into the slots. “Here, I’ll start it for you. You can handle buttering them when they’re done. Think you’re up for the challenge?”

Draco leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “You’re underestimating me again, love. I’ll butter the toast so flawlessly you’ll weep.”

You snorted, turning to grab plates from the cabinet. “Sure, let’s call that your triumph of the day.”

As the toaster clicked and the smell of warm bread filled the kitchen, Draco busied himself setting the table—his version of setting the table, which involved summoning everything with a flick of his wand and arranging it with the precision of a dinner party.

“You do realize breakfast doesn’t require formal presentation, right?” you teased, sitting down as he placed a perfectly folded napkin by your plate.

Draco smirked, sliding into the seat across from you. “Just because it’s breakfast doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be elegant.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he reached for the now-popped toast, applying butter with such deliberate care you half-expected him to use a ruler for even distribution. Shaking your head with a soft smile, you rose from your seat and quietly grabbed a mug from the cabinet, filling it with fresh coffee from the pot on the counter.

The warm aroma filled the kitchen as you set the pot down and returned to your chair, savoring the first sip in comfortable silence. Across the table, Draco finished buttering the toast and waved his wand casually, sending the coffee pot floating over to his side. It tilted gracefully, pouring a perfectly measured amount of coffee into his mug before settling back in its spot on the counter.

You raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of your cup. “So, pouring coffee is too much effort, but you’ll put on a show buttering toast?”

Draco looked up, his expression far too smug. “Presentation matters, darling. Coffee is utility. Buttering toast is an art.”

You snorted, biting back a laugh as you leaned back in your chair. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee and giving you a sly smile, “you can’t seem to get enough of me.”

“Debatable,” you shot back, though the way your lips twitched betrayed the truth.

As the two of you ate, the quiet hum of the dishwasher filled the air, mixing with the faint clinking of dishes and the comforting warmth of the morning. You couldn’t help but think that, chaotic as it was, life with Draco had its charm.

Halfway through breakfast, Draco cleared his throat, setting his mug down with a deliberate clink. “By the way,” he said nonchalantly, brushing a nonexistent crumb from his sleeve, “my parents have asked to visit for dinner this evening.”

You froze mid-sip, glancing up at him.“Tonight?”

This wasn’t the first time Draco had invited his parents over since you’d moved in together, but it never got easier. The Malfoys had made their opinions about his choices abundantly clear. The arguments had been frequent and heated when Draco first announced his decision to move into the Muggle world. Dating mudblood, as Lucius had so delicately put it during one particularly venomous conversation, had been a sore point from the start. The disdain in their voices, though carefully masked in your presence, was never far from the surface. Still, Narcissa had tried to keep things civil, at least outwardly. Her maternal instincts, perhaps, outweighed her prejudices. Lucius, on the other hand, had never fully hidden his disapproval. The sideways glances, the veiled barbs—it all painted a clear picture. They saw your relationship as a deviation, something temporary that would inevitably pass. And yet, they remained fairly cordial in front of you, no doubt for Draco’s sake. Tonight’s visit felt like yet another test, one you were determined to pass—though it always left you walking on eggshells.

Draco nodded, as if this were the most natural announcement in the world. “Yes, tonight. Around seven, I believe.”

You blinked, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “Right,” you murmured, your mind already racing. “I’ll need to go shopping today before the shops close, then.”

Draco frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Shopping? Whatever for?”

“For dinner, Draco,” you replied, standing to gather your plate. “We don’t exactly have a stocked pantry suitable for hosting your parents.”

As you moved toward the sink, he waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll just send a house-elf to take care of it.”

You froze, staring at him over your shoulder. “Draco,” you said slowly, turning back toward the table, “We don’t have house-elves.”

He blinked, as though the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “We don’t?”

“No,” you said firmly, placing your hands on your hips. “They don’t exactly come with Muggle homes, you know.”

Draco leaned back in his chair, a look of mild bemusement crossing his face. “Strange. Well, no matter—I’ll ask Father to send a couple over for the day.”

You stared at him, momentarily speechless. “You’ll what?”

He shrugged, as if this were a completely reasonable solution. “I’ll write him after breakfast. It’s hardly a problem.”

Your mouth opened, then closed again as you tried to formulate a response. Finally, you shook your head, rubbing your temples. “Draco, we are not borrowing house-elves from your dad.”

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

“Because,” you said, sighing as you sat back down, “this is our home. I’m not dragging house-elves into it every time we have guests over. I’ll just go shopping, make a nice meal, and that’s that.”

Draco looked at you as though you’d just suggested cooking dinner over an open flame. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you replied, sipping your coffee again. “This is how Muggles do things. Welcome to the real world.”

For a moment, Draco looked as though he might argue, but then he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Fine,” he said, his tone begrudging. “But I’m coming with you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “To the grocery store?”

“Yes, to the grocery store,” he said, his expression a mix of determination and distaste. “If I’m going to endure this… experiment, I might as well see how it works.”

Smiling, you leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. “Alright then. I’ll go get ready.”

When you returned a short while later, Draco’s gaze immediately fell on the several empty shopping bags you were holding. His brows knitted together in confusion, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply followed your every movement with the intensity of someone trying to solve an unspeakable mystery.

You set the bags by the door and reached for the keys to the house, slipping them into your pocket before pulling on your shoes. Draco’s confusion deepened. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to leave,” you said, nonchalantly tying your laces.

Draco raised a perfectly arched brow. “And how exactly are we planning to get there? Apparition or Floo Powder?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Neither.”

“Neither?” he repeated, the word dripping with disbelief.

“We’re walking,” you said matter-of-factly, straightening up and grabbing the empty bags.

Draco blinked, his expression torn between incredulity and exasperation. “Walking? Why on earth would we walk when we could be there in seconds?”

“Because,” you explained patiently, “the shop is close by, and it would be weird to just appear in the middle of it. Muggles don’t take kindly to people popping out of thin air near the frozen food aisle.”

Draco stared at you as if you’d just suggested climbing a mountain for fun. “This is madness,” he declared.

You laughed, patting his arm as you opened the door. “Consider it part of the full Muggle experience.”

Still grumbling under his breath about the absurdity of it all, Draco stepped outside with you, his silver hair catching the sunlight as he scanned the street. “Walking,” he muttered again, shaking his head. “What will they think of next?”

You only smirked, knowing the real fun was yet to come. Draco laced his fingers with yours as you stepped out into the crisp winter air, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots. He pulled you closer as you walked, his warm breath visible in the cold. The streets were lined with houses adorned with twinkling lights, wreaths on doors, and the occasional snowman standing proudly in a yard.

“I could’ve taken the car,” you said casually, glancing up at him, “but I don’t think you’re ready to experience traffic yet.”

Draco gave you a pointed look, though his lips twitched with faint amusement. “If it’s anything like the stories you’ve told me, I’d rather not risk my sanity—or my temper.”

You laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s probably for the best. One honking horn, and you’d be out of there faster than you could say ‘Pure-blood.’”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the bustling scenery around him. The sidewalks were busy with people bundled in coats and scarves, some carrying shopping bags, others chatting cheerfully. There was a warmth to it all—a vibrancy that was so different from the cold, quiet grandeur of the Malfoy Manor.

“For all the stupidity the Muggle world has to offer,” Draco murmured, his voice thoughtful, “I’ll admit… I do enjoy how lively it is.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the rare vulnerability in his tone. “Lively?”

He nodded, his icy eyes catching the glint of the snow-covered streets. “The manor was… beautiful, I suppose. Grand. But it was so isolated. Mostly empty land, save for the occasional visitor or house-elf passing by. There was nothing like this—” he gestured to the people around you, the soft hum of life that filled the air. “—no life, no… warmth.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “Well, you’ve got that now,” you said, smiling up at him. “Even if it comes with grocery shopping and dishwashers.”

Draco smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “It’s a compromise I’m willing to make,” he said, his voice teasing but sincere.

As the two of you continued walking, the snowflakes began to fall again, dusting the streets and your hair in a light layer of white. Draco tightened his hold on your hand, the moment between you quiet and peaceful as the world around you bustled with life.

As you approached the grocery store, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a coin, flipping it between your fingers before sliding it into the lock on a row of shopping carts. With a satisfying click, the cart popped free, and you grabbed it, turning to Draco with a smile.

He stared at the cart, then at you, his brow furrowing. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

You laughed softly, gesturing to the coin slot on the cart. “It’s how you unlock them. You put in a coin, and when you’re done, you get it back.”

Draco’s confusion deepened as he examined the contraption with a critical eye. “Why would you need to pay for a cart? Isn’t that the store’s responsibility? Do you lose the money if you don’t return it?”

“Yes, you only lose the money if you don’t return it.” you explained, suppressing a giggle at his baffled expression. “It’s just a system to make sure people don’t leave the carts all over the parking lot… or steal them”

He tilted his head, considering this. “So, Muggles have to bribe themselves to do the responsible thing?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug, trying not to laugh at the sheer disdain in his voice.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the cart as if it had personally offended him. “What a pitifully inefficient system,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Why not just enchant the carts to return themselves?”

You snorted, wheeling the cart toward the entrance. “Because not everyone has magic, Draco. This works just fine.”

He fell into step beside you, still looking slightly affronted. “I should write to the Ministry. There has to be some sort of international wizarding intervention for this level of absurdity.”

You smirked, patting his arm as you entered the store. “You do that. In the meantime, try not to hex anything while we shop.”

Draco grumbled something under his breath but followed you inside, his sharp gaze taking in the bright fluorescent lights, the neatly stacked shelves, and the bustling crowd. “This is going to be an experience,” he muttered.

“You have no idea,” you replied with a grin, steering the cart toward the produce section.

You wheeled the cart through the store, stopping in the produce aisle to grab fresh herbs and vegetables for the roast dinner. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Draco wander a few steps away, picking up various food items and squinting at the labels like he was deciphering ancient runes. It was adorable, really, but you couldn’t help but focus on your shopping. As you mentally ran through your list, you zigzagged through aisles, tossing essentials into the cart—seasoning, potatoes, stock, bread. Before you knew it, you were in the snacks aisle, debating between crisps and popcorn.

That’s when you realized it. Draco was gone. You glanced around, craning your neck to see if you could spot his silver-blond hair anywhere in the sea of shoppers. Nothing. You sighed, silently praying he hadn’t decided to duel the automatic doors or try to interrogate the self-checkout machine. Just as you picked up a bag of crisps, you heard his unmistakable voice behind you.

“Look at this!” he said, sounding thoroughly impressed.

You turned around, and there he was—holding a bright yellow plastic broom.

“They have brooms here!” he said, turning it over in his hands as if he’d stumbled upon the latest innovation in flying technology. “Never seen one like this… must be a new model.”

You froze, staring at him, your lips twitching as you struggled to keep it together. “A new model?” you repeated, barely managing to suppress a laugh.

Draco nodded, completely serious. “It’s so lightweight. And this handle… not wood, but some kind of sturdy Muggle material. I’ve no idea where the charms are hidden, though.” He ran his fingers along the bristles, frowning slightly. “Odd design, but maybe it improves aerodynamics?”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, fighting to keep your laughter under control. “Draco… that’s not… it’s not a flying broom.”

He blinked, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion. “What do you mean? It’s a broom. What else could it be used for?”

“It’s for cleaning,” you managed, your voice trembling with suppressed laughter. “Muggles use it to sweep floors.”

Draco stared at the broom, then at you, then back at the broom. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” you said, finally letting out a small giggle. “That’s about as far from a flying broom as you can get.”

Draco’s face twisted into a mixture of horror and disappointment as he looked at the broom again. “They’ve completely ruined it,” he declared, setting it back on the shelf with a level of disdain usually reserved for cursed objects. “What’s the point of a broom that doesn’t fly?”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, earning a few amused glances from other shoppers. “Oh, Draco,” you said between giggles, grabbing his arm. “Come on. Let’s get the rest of what we need before you find something else to ‘improve.’”

You couldn’t stop grinning as you watched Draco hover near the cleaning aisle, his gaze fixed on a row of mops. He tilted his head, his brow furrowing as he gingerly poked at the mop’s sponge end.

“What’s this for?” he asked, holding it up like it was a weapon he needed to disarm.

You chuckled, wheeling the cart closer. “That’s a mop. Muggles use it to clean floors—specifically, to scrub them when they’re wet or dirty.”

Draco’s lips parted in disbelief, and he blinked at you as if you’d just told him people used quills to sew fabric. “You’re telling me… they manually drag this thing around on the floor instead of just casting a Scouring Charm?”

“Pretty much,” you replied with a shrug, struggling to keep a straight face.

He shook his head slowly, muttering under his breath, “Primitive. Absolutely primitive.”

After returning the mop to its place like it had personally offended him, he stuck closer to your side for the rest of the trip, steering the shopping cart with surprising enthusiasm. At first, he pushed it tentatively, testing its movement, but before long, he was zipping down the aisles like a child with a new toy.

“Draco,” you called after him, trying not to laugh as he gave the cart a small push and watched it glide forward. “It’s not a racing broom.”

“Of course not,” he said, smirking but not stopping. “It’s much slower.”

Despite his antics, he peppered you with questions as you continued shopping, picking up random items and holding them out for inspection.

“And this?” he asked, holding up a box of instant pudding mix.

“It’s dessert. You mix it with milk, and it thickens into pudding.”

He frowned. “No wand required?”

“No wand required,” you confirmed, tossing the box into the cart.

He sighed dramatically, moving on to the next item. “And this?”

“A tin opener. It opens cans.”

Draco’s expression fell further. “What’s wrong with an Opening Charm?”

“Not everyone has one, Draco,” you said patiently, biting back a laugh as his disappointment deepened.

Item after item, his curiosity turned into sheer disillusionment. “Muggles really have to work this hard for everything, don’t they?” he muttered, picking up a manual whisk and giving it a dubious glance.

You smirked, taking it from him and placing it in the cart. “It’s not all bad. You’re surviving, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he replied, pushing the cart forward with a little more flair than necessary.

By the time you made it to the checkout line, Draco had perfected his ‘long-suffering Pure-blood enduring the trials of the Muggle world’ expression, but you couldn’t help but notice the occasional glint of fascination in his eyes as he took in the bustling store around him. You were focused on unloading the cart, placing items neatly onto the till conveyor belt while Draco hovered a safe distance away from the machine. His cautious glances at the moving belt made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t alive. Out of nowhere, he called your name, and you turned just in time for him to shove a small box into your face.

“What is this then?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.

You froze, your eyes widening as you recognized the box of condoms he was holding with an almost clinical detachment. Your face turned scarlet in an instant.

“Draco!” you hissed, snatching the box from his hand and glancing around to see if anyone had overheard.

“What?” he asked, genuinely confused, tilting his head as he looked down at you. “What are they for? Some kind of… candy perhaps?”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words without alerting the nearby cashier or the couple in line behind you. Pulling Draco closer by the sleeve of his coat, you whispered urgently, “They’re… for, um, protection. During, uh, intimate moments.”

Draco’s brows furrowed, his confusion only deepening. “Protection? From what? Are Muggles frequently attacked during—oh.”

The realization dawned on his face, his pale cheeks tinging pink as he took a slight step back. He cleared his throat, glancing at the box still in your hand. “I see. That’s… efficient, I suppose.”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your burning face. “Can we please not discuss this here?”

Draco, however, seemed more intrigued than embarrassed now. “Do they… work reliably? Or—how do you even put it on?”

“Draco!” you hissed again, cutting him off as you stuffed the box back onto the shelf behind you.

He smirked at your reaction, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “You’re blushing, darling. It’s adorable.”

“Because you just asked about condoms in the middle of a grocery store,” you muttered, turning back to continue unloading the cart, your face still burning.

Draco chuckled softly, clearly finding your embarrassment far too amusing. He stayed quiet for a moment, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him lingering by the shelf where he’d found the box. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he examined the options: strawberry, ribbed, ultra-thin. Before you could say anything, he plucked one off the shelf and, with exaggerated caution, tossed it onto the conveyor belt from a distance, as if it might attack him.

You blinked at him, your confusion only growing as you stared at the box sitting innocently amidst the rest of your groceries. “Draco… what are you doing?”

He avoided your gaze, suddenly very interested in straightening his coat. “What? I want to try them,” he mumbled, his voice almost innocent.

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head as you leaned closer to whisper, “Draco, you do realize these aren’t, like, some kind of Muggle novelty item, right?”

He finally glanced at you, his pale cheeks tinged with pink. “I’m perfectly aware,” he said, straightening his posture. “I just… want to see what all the fuss is about.”

You covered your face with your hand, torn between exasperation and laughter. “You are unbelievable.”

The cashier began scanning the items, and Draco, determined to prove himself useful, did his best to place them into the bags you had handed him. His movements were deliberate and almost comically precise, as if packing groceries was a skill to be mastered.

You watched with quiet amusement as he gingerly placed eggs into a bag, his face a mask of concentration. He only paused when the cashier announced the total and you pulled out a card to pay.

Draco’s eyes widened, his gaze darting between you and the small machine where you inserted the card. “That’s how you pay?” he murmured, half to himself.

“Yup,” you replied, suppressing a grin as the machine beeped, signaling the transaction was complete.

But what truly left him speechless was the receipt. The small slip of paper emerged from a hidden compartment with a faint whirring sound, and Draco stepped back slightly, his brow furrowing in suspicion.

“What now?” you asked, noticing his confusion.

He pointed at the receipt, his voice low and serious. “Is it enchanted?”

You chuckled, taking the receipt and tucking it into your pocket. “No, Draco, it’s just a record of what we bought. No magic involved.”

He said nothing, though his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Once outside, with the shopping bags evenly distributed between you, Draco slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked through the snowy streets. His grip was firm and grounding, but his face was set in a deep, pensive frown. You glanced up at him, his furrowed brows and slightly parted lips betraying the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Deciding not to interrupt, you pressed yourself closer to his side, letting your head rest lightly against the side of his chest. The walk home was quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your boots. Draco remained silent, processing the bizarre journey into Muggle life. You didn’t push him, knowing he’d speak when he was ready—or maybe not at all. By the time you reached your house, his frown had softened, though his eyes still had a far-off look. As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, you caught the faintest glimmer of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Next time,” he said as he set the bags down, his tone a mix of humor and resignation, “I’ll handle the receipt.”

—

You busied yourself in the kitchen, determined to make a flawless roast dinner for Draco’s parents. You knew they weren’t particularly fond of you or the fact that Draco was immersing himself in the Muggle world. Still, you were set on showing them that you belonged in Draco’s life, no matter how many raised eyebrows they threw your way. Draco leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you work. His silver hair caught the warm light of the kitchen, and though his expression remained neutral, you could tell he was intrigued. You chopped, seasoned, and kneaded everything by hand, and it was clear he wasn’t used to such a process.

“You really do all of this without magic?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yup,” you replied, sprinkling some herbs over the potatoes. “From scratch. It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.”

Draco hummed in response, clearly not convinced but unwilling to argue. The quiet shuffling of aluminum caught your attention, and you glanced over your shoulder.

What you saw nearly made you drop the salt shaker.

Draco stood there holding an unpackaged, rolled-up condom in his hands, a deep frown etched on his face. He was holding it between his fingers like it was a particularly slimy slug, his lips curling in disgust.

You bit back a laugh, trying to focus on the potatoes as you replied casually, “You have to unroll it.”

“Aha,” Draco mumbled, clearly no less confused, as he turned and disappeared into the other room.

You shook your head, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. For a moment, the kitchen was quiet again, save for the sound of the roast sizzling in the oven. Then came muffled grumbles from the other room.

It didn’t take long for Draco to reappear, still holding the condom. His face was a mix of defeat and lingering disgust as he held it up. “I have no idea how this thing works,” he admitted, his voice low. “And why does it feel so… disgustingly slimy?”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, clutching the counter for support as tears sprang to your eyes. “Oh my God, Draco,” you managed between fits of laughter.

He scowled, tossing the condom onto the counter as if washing his hands of the whole ordeal. “It’s not funny!”

“It is!” you replied, wiping at your eyes. “You look like you’ve been wrestling with it!”

Draco sniffed, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t understand how Muggles deal with this nonsense. Magical contraceptives are far less… revolting.” He glanced down at the discarded condom with a look of pure disdain. “It couldn’t even go on.”

You bit your lip, barely holding back your laughter as you stepped closer to him. Reaching up, you cupped his cheek gently, guiding his attention back to you. His silver eyes softened slightly, his frown easing as you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips lingering against his just long enough to distract him from his frustration.

When you pulled back, your voice was low, your tone teasing. “You need to be… excited for it to work, Draco.”

Draco blinked, his cheeks immediately flushing a soft pink. He straightened, his usual composure cracking for a brief moment as he processed your words. “Excited?” he echoed, his voice slightly higher than usual.

You grinned, brushing past him to check on the roast in the oven. “That’s right,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just sent his mind spinning.

Draco stood frozen for a moment, glancing back at the discarded condom as if it had betrayed him yet again. Then, he turned to you, his voice laced with indignation. “You could have told me that earlier instead of letting me wrestle with it like some kind of fool!”

You laughed, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Draco huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter once more, his pink cheeks still betraying him. “Muggles,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint, reluctant smirk tugging at his lips.

“Alright, Malfoy” you teased, brushing your hands off on a towel. “Go set the table before your parents get here, and I promise no more surprises. For now.”

Draco gave you a mock glare before turning to do as you asked, his mutterings about Muggle nonsense fading as he left the kitchen. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you returned to your cooking. Living with Draco was chaotic, but moments like this reminded you just how much you loved having him in your world—even if he’d never quite understand all of it.

The table was set perfectly, as if Draco had spent as much time arranging it as you had cooking. You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over your clothes as the knock on the door echoed through the flat. Draco opened it with his usual composed grace, greeting his parents with a stiff nod.

Narcissa stepped inside first, her expression polite but guarded as she glanced around the house. “Draco,” she said softly, pulling him into a quick hug. Her gaze flicked to you, and she offered a small, tight smile. “Y/N.”

“Mrs. Malfoy,” you greeted, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

Lucius followed behind her, his sharp features betraying nothing but disdain as he surveyed his surroundings. He inclined his head slightly toward you, though his lips never moved to form a greeting. It was clear that he was only here under duress, likely at Narcissa’s insistence.

“Do come in,” Draco said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the dining room.

As everyone settled at the table, the tension was palpable. Narcissa sat with perfect posture, her delicate hands folded neatly in her lap, while Lucius sat rigid, his cane resting against the table. His icy gaze swept the room, his disdain evident in every furrow of his brow.

Draco, however, seemed unbothered. He stood proudly, bringing out the food you had spent all afternoon preparing. He set the dishes on the table with a flourish, clearing his throat. “Dinner is served,” he announced, his voice filled with pride. “And before you ask—yes, it was cooked entirely without magic or the help of house-elves.”

Narcissa’s brows lifted slightly, a spark of genuine surprise in her eyes. “Really?” she asked, glancing at the dishes. “That’s quite impressive.”

Lucius, on the other hand, let out a scoff, his lips curling into a faint sneer. “Why anyone would willingly endure such a process is beyond me,” he muttered, earning a sharp glance from his wife.

You bit your tongue, focusing on serving the food as Draco sat down beside you, clearly unfazed by his father’s comment. The meal began in awkward silence, the only sounds coming from the clinking of cutlery and the occasional scrape of a chair.

Finally, Narcissa broke the quiet, turning to her son with a warm, curious smile. “So, Draco, what did you do today?”

Draco sat up straighter, his face lighting up as he launched into an enthusiastic recount of the grocery store trip. “We went to this… Muggle establishment,” he began, his voice carrying a mix of awe and incredulity. “You wouldn’t believe it, Mother. Rows upon rows of food and supplies, all sorted into sections. It was fascinating.”

Narcissa listened intently, her eyes softening as he spoke. “That does sound rather intriguing,” she said, her tone genuine.

Draco continued, describing the shopping cart, the conveyor belt, and the curious beeping machine at the till. “And did you know they have these tiny coins you put into the carts to unlock them?” he added, gesturing animatedly.

Lucius let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Draco’s enthusiasm was physically painful. “I fail to see the appeal,” he muttered under his breath, casting a glance toward the window as though contemplating apparating away.

You stifled a laugh, watching the stark contrast between Draco’s animated storytelling, Narcissa’s interest, and Lucius’s clear misery.

“I even packed the bags,” Draco added proudly. “It’s a ridiculous system, but I managed.”

Narcissa smiled warmly, her pride evident. “I’m glad to see you adapting so well, Draco. It’s important to understand how others live, even if it’s different from what we’re used to.”

Lucius muttered something unintelligible, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his cane.

Draco turned to you, his eyes bright with satisfaction. “See, love? Mother appreciates it.”

You smiled back, your heart warming at his excitement. “She does,” you said softly, glancing at Narcissa, who nodded in agreement.

Lucius, however, simply sighed, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression. “Let us hope this… experiment of yours doesn’t last too long,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain.

Draco’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his composure, reaching for your hand under the table. His fingers squeezed yours briefly, a silent reassurance that he didn’t care what his father thought. The rest of the meal continued with a mix of awkward small talk and Draco’s detailed observations of the Muggle world. Though Lucius remained unimpressed, Narcissa’s quiet encouragement made the effort feel worthwhile. As the conversation wound down and the plates were nearly cleared, Draco suddenly leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. His sharp blue eyes glimmered with something unreadable, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I have something to show you,” he muttered, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What is it?” you asked cautiously, your brow furrowing as you tried to guess what he could possibly be up to now.

Draco stood up, strolling out of the dining room with the air of someone retrieving an important artifact. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged puzzled glances, while you felt a flicker of dread creeping up your spine. He returned a moment later, holding a familiar box in his hand.

Your heart sank as your face turned beet red. No. No, no, no, no.

He placed the box of condoms on the table, directly in front of you, and tilted his head with a curious smirk. “You never explained properly,” he said smoothly, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed his nonchalant demeanor. “I think it’s time I fully understood how they work.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Lucius froze mid-sip of his wine, his expression a mixture of horror and disbelief. Narcissa’s lips parted slightly as her eyes darted between the box and her son. Meanwhile, you felt your soul leaving your body as your entire face burned hotter than the roast in the oven earlier.

“Draco,” you hissed, your voice a mix of mortification and desperation. “Not now.”

“Why not?” he asked innocently, his smirk widening as he clearly enjoyed your discomfort. “You said it was important to understand Muggle things if I am living here.”

Narcissa cleared her throat delicately, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “Draco, darling, perhaps this is a… conversation better suited for another time,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with amusement.

Lucius, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to sink into the ground. “For Salazar’s sake, Draco!” he snapped, his pale face turning an uncharacteristic shade of red. “Have you lost all sense of decorum?”

Draco shrugged, unbothered. “I was merely curious, Father. Isn’t that what this move is about—understanding?”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I’m going to die,” you muttered under your breath.

Draco leaned closer to you, his smirk softening into something almost endearing. “Don’t be dramatic,” he said quietly. “It’s just a box. Besides, you’re the one who said they’re important.”

“Not during dinner with your parents!” you shot back in a harsh whisper.

Narcissa stood gracefully, reaching for her wine glass and glancing at Lucius, who was visibly seething. “Perhaps we should take a moment to admire the décor in the living room,” she suggested, her tone light but firm. “Give them a moment to… collect themselves.”

Lucius rose quickly, eager to escape the situation, and followed her out without another word.

As soon as they were out of earshot, you turned to Draco, glaring at him through your lingering embarrassment. “What is wrong with you?”

He grinned, his pale cheeks still faintly pink. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Draco,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. But despite your mortification, a reluctant laugh bubbled up, escaping your lips.

Draco chuckled softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “Hey,” he said, his voice laced with mischief. “It looks like my parents knew exactly what the box contained.”

You groaned louder, shaking your head as you peeked at him from between your fingers. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s more fun than I had ever experienced in my life,” he replied, smirking. “And because your reactions are priceless.”

You swatted his arm lightly, biting your lip to keep from laughing again. “You’re going to pay for this later.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Draco said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with an infuriatingly smug expression.

You shook your head, standing to start clearing the table. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, though the corners of your mouth twitched despite your best efforts to remain stern.

Draco stood as well, grabbing a plate and following you to the kitchen. “For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone softening slightly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother look that impressed. You’re winning her over, you know.”

You glanced at him, your irritation melting a little as you caught the sincerity in his eyes. “Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But your dad looks like he’s ready to disown you.”

Draco shrugged, setting the plate down on the counter. “He’ll survive. I’d say this visit is going better than expected.”

You arched an eyebrow, gesturing toward the box still sitting on the table. “Even with that little stunt?”

He smirked, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Especially because of that,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you turned back to the dishes. Life with Draco was unpredictable, embarrassing, and absolutely worth it.

After a while, with the kitchen cleaned and dessert plates neatly arranged, you rejoined Draco’s parents in the living room. You placed the cake and a small pot of tea on the coffee table, smiling as Narcissa complimented the presentation. “It looks lovely, dear,” she said warmly, her eyes lighting up as she tasted the first bite. “And delicious.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” you replied, feeling a small wave of relief at her approval.

Meanwhile, Draco stood by the TV, flicking it on with the remote. The screen lit up, filling the room with sound and color. He had been obsessed with it ever since the two of you moved in, constantly exploring its features and marveling at the variety of channels.

“And this,” he began, gesturing to the screen, “is called a television. It’s a Muggle device that streams moving pictures and sound. There are different stations—some show plays or sports, others music or news.”

Lucius, who had been seated stiffly on the sofa, cast the TV a disinterested glance at first. But as Draco flipped through the channels, his gaze lingered, his eyes narrowing in a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

Draco settled on a music channel, where a pop song played over vibrant, fast-moving visuals. Lucius leaned forward slightly, his cane forgotten at his side as his eyes remained glued to the screen.

Narcissa, meanwhile, sipped her tea and turned to you with a soft smile. “The cake is truly wonderful, Y/N. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at Lucius, whose face was now bathed in the colorful glow of the TV. Draco was explaining the concept of music videos, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and pride.

“And these stations,” Draco said, pointing to the remote, “play music continuously. The visuals match the songs—like this one, see?”

Lucius didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the screen as if he were analyzing every detail. Eventually, he gave a slow nod. “Remarkable,” he muttered under his breath, clearly fascinated despite his obvious disdain for anything muggle.

Narcissa glanced at him with a knowing smile but said nothing, letting her husband enjoy his unexpected discovery.

After a while, Narcissa stood gracefully, placing her empty teacup on the table and smoothing the fabric of her elegant robe. “It’s getting late,” she said gently, her tone warm but firm. “We should be heading home.”

Lucius didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on the television, where a lively music video was playing. His normally composed expression was slightly softened, his eyes darting between the screen and the remote in Draco’s hand.

“Lucius,” Narcissa prompted, her voice holding a hint of exasperation. “It’s time to go.”

He finally tore his gaze away from the screen, his brows furrowing slightly. “Yes, yes, in a moment,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively as if he needed just a little more time to understand the contraption.

Draco smirked, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. “I think he likes it,” he whispered to you, his voice filled with amusement.

Narcissa gave you a knowing glance, her lips twitching into a faint smile before turning back to her husband. “Lucius,” she said again, a bit more firmly this time, “we’re leaving. Now.”

Lucius sighed dramatically, rising from the sofa but casting the TV one last, reluctant glance. “I suppose,” he said, his voice tinged with regret, “we can continue exploring this… device another time.”

You exchanged goodbyes at the door, Narcissa giving you a soft pat on the arm and a smile that felt almost maternal. Lucius remained as formal as ever, though there was an unusual glint in his eye as he glanced at the living room one last time.

As the two of them stepped outside, you lingered by the door with Draco. The crisp night air carried the faint sound of their voices as they walked toward the apparition point.

“You know,” Lucius muttered to Narcissa, his voice carrying just enough for you to catch, “we should consider getting one of those televisions for the manor.”

Narcissa’s laugh was soft but unmistakable. “I’ll make the arrangements,” she replied, her tone indulgent.

Draco closed the door, leaning against it with a triumphant smirk. “See?” he said, turning to you. “It wasn’t so bad.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think you just converted your father into a TV enthusiast.”

“Not bad for one evening,” Draco said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Though I’d say the real victory was your cake. Well done, love.”

You smiled, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss. “Thanks, but I think your TV demonstration might’ve been the real winner tonight.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Of course. I am rather persuasive.”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you turned off the living room lights—a concept Draco still found mildly perplexing. He mumbled something about how inconvenient switches were compared to a simple wand flick as you guided him upstairs to your bedroom.

By the time you finished washing up and changed into your pajamas, Draco was already tucked under the covers. The glow from his nightlight—a softly enchanted orb you’d insisted on for his comfort—bathed the room in a warm, golden hue.

You paused at the vanity, applying cream to your face while sneaking a glance at him through the mirror. He was sitting upright, his brow furrowed as he read the label on the back of the box of condoms. His lips moved faintly as if he were trying to work out some sort of instructions.

Biting back a laugh, you shook your head and turned off the main lights, leaving only the dim glow of his nightlight. Crawling into bed beside him, you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Still trying to figure that out?” you asked, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Draco looked over at you, holding up the box with a faint smirk. “The instructions are absurdly detailed for something so… basic.”

You chuckled, resting your head on the pillow. “I’m not sure what you expected. Magic?”

“Honestly, yes,” he replied, setting the box on the nightstand and settling under the covers. “Everything’s unnecessarily complicated without it.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, if it gets too overwhelming, just remember—I’m here to guide you through it.”

Draco turned to you, his smirk softening into something warmer. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, brushing a thumb lightly over your hand before pulling you closer.

As the nightlight cast its soft glow over the room, you snuggled into his side, grateful for the quiet comfort of the moment. Life with Malfoy was a whirlwind, but here, in the stillness of your shared space, everything felt just right. Draco was silent for a while, though you could feel him thinking, his body slightly tense beneath yours. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, soft and hesitant. “Could you show me how to use them? Tonight?”

You lifted your head to look at him, his silver eyes meeting yours, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to reassure him. When you pulled back, you smiled gently, your voice a quiet whisper.

“Of course.”

The room fell into a quiet calm, the only sounds the faint rustle of the sheets as you moved closer to him. Draco’s arms wrapped around you, his touch steady and warm. Life in the muggle world had turned out to be far more surprising than Draco had ever expected. It wasn’t as grand or as effortless as the magical life he’d always known, but there was something about it—something real, unpolished, and oddly comforting.

Though, as he discovered later that night, the condoms were nothing special after all.

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