#I think we should just give hermione the divorce papers

[rubynrut]

My favourite love triangle were everyone is miserable and constantly tries to kill each others

[fanficwritinggirl]

This is due to the fact that when i was 14 years old i met Bill Weasley. And when i mean i met him i mean we were only introduced to each other. I was spending the summer at the Weasleys which i did every summer since i started Hogwarts. And this was the one time that Bill Weasley decided that he was going to come and spend a few days with his family and this was when i first met him.

I must admit that seeing him for the first time was like something out of a romance movie or novel. Like time litrally stopped. I remember looking at him and thinking that he was the most beautiful man that i had ever seen. He gave his family a cheerful good morning and kissed his mother on the cheek and then sat down opposite to me. I remember our eyes meeting and he smiled at me and offered his hand to me. "Bill Weasley nice to meet you. You must be Y/N L/N" he introduced. And he said it in the most sweetest way that it made me swoon. I gave him a small smile and a nod and he left it at that. I sat there listening to him talk about his work. And the passion that was in his voice when he spoke of it made me fall for him. I know that it is cleche but that is the only way that i can describe it. I had never met someone as amazing as Bill Weasley and i never shall as i declare that he is the most amazing person that i have ever met. And that might just be my dumb teenage mind but he is in all honsetly as passionate, beautiful individual.

2 years after the battle of Hogwarts i was now 19 years old and you could say that a lot of things had changed since then. Well for a start Ron and Hermione are together. Harry and Ginny are together. And our poor Fred was sadly killed in the battle to sum it up. The dynamic that had taken place in the Weasley house was never the same after the death of Fred. And i wouldnt expect anything less. I miss what the twins had. The pranks that they pulled. I feel as though the light had gone out. That the magic that once filled the home will never be whole again. And that broke my heart. But i am 19 now. An adult and i have to face the fact that life isnt full of happiness and that this was one of the many hard things that i was going to have to face.

Me and Ron sat  in the sitting room of the weasley home playing an intense game of Wizards Chess. And once again i was losing. Ron was still the best chess player that i knew even 8 years later. I groan as Ron beats me once again. "Seriously Ron you have to at least give me a chance to win" i whine. He laughs. "Well maybe if you would practice more you might stand a chance of beating me" he boasts and i gasp. "Ronald Weasley dont be such a cocky git" i say as i hit him in the arm and he laughs at me as i sulk.

"What are you doing now Ron" Hermione asks as she walks in. Ron giggles. "She is sulking because i beat her again at Wizards Chess" he tells her. Hermione shakes her head and kisses his forehead. "Im sorry to tell you this Y/N but i dont think that you are ever going to beat him. Trust me i dont like to increase his ego but he is the best chess player and we both know that" she says sympathetically and i groan again and stand up. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. We know" i joke and we all laugh.

"Its lovely to see some laughing in here" a voice says and we turn and see Bill Weasley standing at the edge of the sitting room. I freeze not expecting Bill to be here. "Bill what are you doing here" Ron says happily as he stands up and goes to hug his brother. "Decided that i would stay a few days and grace you all with my presence" he states as he hugs Ron. I look at Bill and can see the bags that are under his eyes. Which honestly he looks better then what i expected to look like after everything that he had been through.

Not long after the battle of Hogwarts. Bill and his wife Fleaur divorced. I guess you could say that with the PTSD and the loss of Fred took a toll on their marriage and it inevetable ended in Fleaur leaving on morning and never coming back and a few weeks later divorce papers showed up at shell cottage and then Bill knew that his marriage was over. After signing the divorce papers he moved back in with the weasleys for a few months getting affairs in order and deciding what was the next move which for him was buying an apartment in the city so that he was closer to work and from what i had been told by the rest of the Weasleys his life had been work ever since. It was heartbreaking to see a man that was once so passionate about his work loose that spark because of a broken heart. I had seen him briefly a few months back when i was at diagon alley at the bank and i must admit he looked better now than he did then.

Bill pulls back from Ron and smiles at me and Hermione. "Its nice seeing you two again. Im sorry i havent been around much work and all" he apoligies and me and hermione shake our heads. "Bill dont worry about it. Works work. Your here now" Hermione says kindly. He grins at us. "Thank you that is really nice of you. I just wanted to come and see you all before i go and see Mum. You know her she is going to keep me stuck in converstation all night at this point" he jokes and we all laugh at that. Very well knowing what Molly Weasley was like. "Go on Bill go and see her now if you want to get to bed at a decent hour" Ron says giving him a pat on the back. Bill shakes his head with a grin on his face and heads off upstairs towards. My mind was racing now. Because all i could think about was the fact that the feelings that i had bedded deep down about Bill Weasley were now coming to the surface.

Which a few days later made me completely and utterly scrood. It started with just little things between me and Bill. One morning Molly asked us to wash the dishes and it was just our hands touching that i could feel the sparks that people talk about. All of us playing a game of ball and him moving the hair from the side of my face and staring into my eyes. Him opening the door for me with a smile. It was things like this that made me relise that i was hopelessly in love with Bill Weasley and i could be. He was one of my best friends brothers and that meant that it was a big no no in the eyes of my friendship with Ron which meant that i was going to have to keep my distance.

I was standing at the sink as i was washing the dishes which was something that i offered to always do as a way of helping Molly out which i didnt mind. I loved the view that the kitchen gave me. Right out onto the garden were Ron, George and Bill were currently messing around in the garden together. Casting funny spells on each other and the laughs that was coming from them was bittersweet as there was one Weasley that would have been there. And yes im talking about Fred. And obviously Percy is another weasley sibling which i must admit that after the battle he has tried more with the family but he is still the outsider in a way. I dont know much about Percy and i dont really want to know him all to well.

But back to the view. I loved looking at Bill mess around with his brothers. There was a look of happiness the old Bill in his eyes which i know that we have all missed. The Bill that i remember falling for when i was 14. But this Bill there was so much more to him and that made me more intregued.

"So which one of my brothers are you looking at and please tell me it is not Ron" a voice asks from behind me. I come out of my daze and turn and see Ginny standing behind me. I look at her shocked before shaking my head. "Why would i be staring at Ron Ginny" i ask her confused. She sighs. "Good that is the answer that i wanted now that means that there are only 2 of my brothers that you could have been staring at. Now is it my brother George who is a hilarious guy even though he isnt much anymore but still can be. And can make any girl fall with his jokes. Or is it my eldest brother Bill. Who is passionate, determined and someone who you have been in love with since you were 14. Now let me see ene meany miney..." she says but i cut her off.

"Ginny! Stop okay i know that you know" i burst and she smirks at me. "Of course i know. I know everything. And just to let you know i think you should go for it" she expalins to me with a smirk. I just looks at her and groan. "Ginny he was barley been divorced a year yet alone ready for anew relationship and anyway what about the age difference" i try to excuse so that she would stop talking about it. She shakes me head and me. "No no no. Dont start trying to feed me all of this age difference bs. Come on like 10 years isnt that bad. Like i mean there are people who get married to others who are like 40 years older than them. Which makes you and Bill normal" she trys to persuade me. I sigh and shake my head. "Like i said Ginny he and Fleaur have barely been split up a year. And anyway he probarbly doesnt look at me like that" i doubt and go back to washing the dishes.

"Look Y/N. I know how you feel i thought Harry thought the same thing about me but hey look at us now. We might think one way about something but you know we may be wrong. And i can see the way that you and Bill are together. The way that you two move around each other its like a dance. Its like you two are meant to move together. That you are meant to be together. And i believe in soulmates and i know that you two are. I never got any of this off of Bill and Fleaur. The connection but i do now. And im telling you to go for it. Trust me" she explains. I look at her shocked. Trying to take everything in. She gives me a smile knowing that i am going to think about it. Once she leaves a bend myself over the sink with both elbows on either side of it and put my head in my hands and sigh. This is just making things harder.

Later that night i lie in bed not being able to sleep. What Ginny had said to me had got me fucked up in the way that now i cant decide what to do. I get out of bed after trying for way to long to get to sleep and head down to the kitchen to get myself some milk to help me go to sleep. I walk down there and grab some milk from the fridge and pour some in a pot to put over the stove.

"Y/N" a voice asks and i turn around and see Bill standing there looking at me with sleepy eyes. "Sorry if i woke you"i apoligise. He shakes his head and walks further into the kitchen. "You didnt i was up doing some work" he informs me and i enternally groan. He needs to stop working so much. "Well anyway then. Sorry for disturbing you. Can i offer you a mug of warm milk i heard that it helps on feel more relaxed. Or at least it did when i was a child" i say and he laughs and nods his head. "Yes please but i have a little bit of a request on how to make it better" he says as he walks to the pantree and i pour some milk into some mugs. He comes back out and has some cinnamon in his hand and sprinkles it on the top of the milk. "Mum used to do this when we are little. It just made the drink feel more at home" he says. He turns his head up and looks at me straight in the eyes. And once again there it was. The spark. The connection that i felt was there. To my dissapointment he pulls back and looks at me with intent smile.

"Why dont you try it" he says to me referring to the milk. I break out of the trance that i was in and take a sip of the milk. And he was right. The drink tasted more of home. And now all i could think about when i thought of the milk was him. I see him take a drink of his milk before our eyes meet again. He moves the milk away from his lips and puts it on the counter. He moves closer to me and before i know what is happening his lips are on mine. And a zoo erupts in my stomach. I put my own milk down and wrap my arms around his neck as he deepens it. Devoruing my lips and feeling every part of my body. He moves his hands down to my ass and grabs it pulling me up into his arms before setting me down on the counter.

My breathes are heavy. It is so hard to breathe when i am so intoxicated with him. The feeling of him of my skin. The burning that i feel in my core. This man was a drug. He pulls aways and looks at me. He smirks when he sees me so out of breathe. He moves a part of my C/H out of my face and looks deep in my eyes.

"I have wanted to do that for some long you dont understand. From the first time that i saw you the other day. I knew that you were something else. Something about you was causing me to feel something that i have never felt before and i know now that is because you are my drug Y/N. Your my drug and i hope that i am yours" he asks me. All i can do is nod my head. "Your my drug Bill. And i want all of you" i tell him and once again i am being devoured by him. He lifts me up once again and lifts me upstairs to his room and you can fill in the rest.

The next morning i wake up with Bill lying naked next to me on his back with him slightly snorning next to me. I giggle and turn and stroke his cheek and also planting a kiss. His hands moves up and holds mine and he smiles. "Morning" he says and i smile. "Morning" i say as he kisses me. I sigh. He is my drug. He pulls me closer and groans. "We are going to have to tell them arent we" he asks. I nod as i curl into him. "Yeah we are but i have a feeling that they already know" i inform him and he looks at me confused. "And how would they know" he asks me cheekely. "Well i have a feeling that we may have not been that quiet last night" i say mischeviously. He smirks and leans closer. "I believe that you are correct on that but i would say that it was mostly you calling my name that they heard" he whispers in my ear and i moan. He flips us over and pins my hands over my head. "And i think that for you being a naughty girl and not being quiet last night i might need to punish you" he purrs. The feeling of my core heats up once again. "And how might you do that William" i ask him. I slowly feel him slide his hand down to my pussy and put a finger in and i groan. "I have a few ideas" he says before taking me.

You could say that we were correct. When we walked down the stairs everyone was looking at us. Molly and Arthur looked a little unconfertable. Which i dont blame them. I dont think they preferably wanted to hear their son having sex. Hermione, Ron, Harry and George looked completely shocked and Ginny of course was sitting there with a smug look on her face. Bill sighs. "Ok i know that most of you are shocked right now and i understand that completely. And im sorry that you had to hear that last night. But i just want to let you know that i love Y/N. I love her and some of you might think that it is a bit early after the divorce and all but i know its now. I know that what we feel for each other is stronger than anything that i have ever felt and that will never change. So all i ask is for you please just be happy for us" Bill exclaims. They all just blink at us before Ron is the first to speak.

"Can i just asks. From how hard your bed was going against the wall im surprised that you are even walking Y/N" he jokes. Molly wacks him around the head. "Ronald Weasley" she exclaims and we all laugh. We know that they accept us and Bill kisses my head before we head to the table. We recive some awkward hugs and pats on the back which was expected but at the end of the day i have Bill and Bill has me.

[fedonciadale]

Hi! Sometimes I worry I’m a hypocrite for being anti the pedoships, being pro Jonsa… but then being drawn to Darklina. I just can’t for the life of me get excited by Malina. I don’t hate them, I accept that they’re endgame, they’re just not compelling to me. (Haven’t read the books btw) I’m an adult, I’m not looking at it as a irl relationship model, I like it coz it explores things that I’d never find/seek irl. And I like angst, the tension, the light and dark imagery, the WHAT IF of it all 🥲

Hi there!

We ship what we ship. Honestly, I think one of the allures of shipping is that it is about storytelling. And we humans need stories to survive and thrive. It's one of the best coping mechanisms there is and it is as old as language.

This got long, therefore I put it under the cut.

Sometimes we are drawn to certain tropes. For me it mostly about angst and tension. I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers for that reason but as long as the ship is angsty I'm in.

One thing we should get rid off right away is to insinuate that shipping preferences say anything about our preferences for real life relationship. I am not denying that certain tropes like 'bad boy only needs sweet innocent girl to become a cinnamon roll' have an impact on the expectations on real life relationships and therefore can contribute to e.g. the idea that a woman just has to be nice enough to an asshole to 'convert' him. But that connection is far more complex than "woman reads story about an asshole becoming a cutie for his woman and immediately enters an abusive relationship herself". I mean how condescending towards the woman in question is that? Shipping is not the same as relationship goals.

I think we should allow for different kinds of shipping anyway and these are deeply connected to storytelling in a way. There is fanon and canon and I actually think that this is an important difference and half of the shipping discourse could be avoided if we would try to take this into consideration more often.

Fanon is very often about the WHAT IF: What happens with this character if I twist canon, just a little? What will be the possibilities of this character in this slightly re-arranged canon bent AU? And it can be a very small twist. Like just changing the POV. To give an example: If you just take the dialogue from Harry Potter's confrontation with Draco in the Room of Requirement in "Deathly Hallows" and switch the PoV to Draco and take the pre-condition to 'Draco wanted to prevent Harry from getting killed by Crabbe and Goyle because he knew he was the only chance against Voldemort' you can make it all fit. It's actually amazing. Just take Draco's desperately shouting "Don't kill him, Don't kill him!" seriously, like really seriously and you get another background.

So, fanon can be about exploring beloved stories, about fixing what we think is wrong in canon and so on. Sometimes it is about disliking canon ships or maybe just about not being convinced by them. In HP I knew from book four onward that Ron and Hermione would become a couple and I never liked it. It might be JRK's inability to write good romance or just the fact that I think they just don't fit. Still, I could believe them getting together and it would all have been fine for me, if not for the epilogue and Cursed Child. Without the epilogue I can always imagine Ron and Hermione realizing three years later that they might not be the best of ideas and split amicably. I headcanon that they had the divorce papers with them in the epilogue of Deathly Hallows. lol. Part of my dislike for the ship is that 'friends to lovers' has no allure for me: Where is the angst?

So, I ship Dramione 'enemies to lovers', canon bent and I like to explore how much or how little I can expand on canon or twist canon to make that possible. Because the books are published, they are obviously not canon, but to me at last they have far more story telling potential.

I actually think that the situation with Malina and Darklina is not that much different. I admit freely that I hated Malina in the books, because a) I didn't like fuckboy Mal (the womanizer who only comes around after realizing he's already met the right woman, not my fav trope) and b) I was absolutely convinced that Alina was supposed to get over her crush. So when they actually became endgame I was a bit pissed that my prediction had been wrong. Now, Malina in the show is cute. I sort of like the ship on the show, it is just not very interesting. So, I wonder about the "What if?" and Darklina. Darklina on the show had some good tropes that I really like: He saves her, he feels unworthy, there were plenty of "Beauty and the Beast" allusions. So, yes, the "what if" scenario is very alluring. That all does not mean that I think that Alina should come together with the Darkling in canon. I actually thought he would give his life for hers in the end, but I was mistaken about that as well. *shrugs*.

Now, then there is canon-shipping. Canon-shipping is not only about the couple about exploring the possibilities. It is about where you think the story will go, who would fit together. Who marries who, which couple we see as staying together, which (found) family is reunited at the end, which friends will live side by side is not irrelevant to the story. It is what makes a satisfying story. If a story ends with a death it has to be a meaningful death. Romeo and Juliet die and their death that is sort of pointless because it was the result of a misunderstanding actually turns out to have a point: The reconciliation of the families. If a story ends with a nice family, we are satisfied. Sam Gamgee "I'm home" is a classic!

So canon-shipping and the discussion about who is destined to be together is often about where we want the story to go and how we understand the character. And that is where all the ship wars in the ASOIAF fandom come from. To me, Jonsa was always about the story. About Stark restoration against Targ restoration about nurture vs nature. My dislike for Sans@n, for S@nrion and for Petyr/Sansa was never about the fanon. I can absolutely live with the fact that people ship them. I would not try to convince anyone to leave that ship. I just argue adamantly against anyone who wants one of these ships to be canon and be happy about it (not in general, just if they come on my turf so to say) because I think that at the basis of the arguments for these ships are several fundamental misunderstandings: a) that Sansa is an unimportant character who will end up with a tertiary character b) that it is a good idea that Sansa would end up with someone who sexually assaulted her c) that any of these guys is just a uwu misunderstood baby and not a villain.

I could understand if someone said: I think GRRM wrote grimdark books and Sansa ending up with any of these guys is not a happy ending, but these books never were supposed to have a happy ending.

I think, you can see what I want to argue: One type of shipping is: Oh, I wonder what could happen if I twist this a bit? and the other type of shipping is: This is where I think the author will go. They are completely different.

The first kind of shipping is personal preference and there is simply no way to argue with that and honestly why should you? If someone argues against Dramione and tells me: But it is a toxic, abusive ship, I just shrug and answer: Well, not in my fic.

And anyway, you don't know why people ship something. They might ship to cope. I had a very intensive phase where I sort of shipped Maeglin and Idril from the Silmarillion. In my made up stories Maeglin almost succeeded to get her, but he never did, because she managed to twist away in the last moment. I now know that this was a phase, where I needed this. I was in the middle of growing up and I was a bit frightened about all the grown up things I would have to do and playing with this story in my mind helped me overcome my feelings of being overwhelmed with all the new responsibilities.

So, tldr: fanon shipping is a personal preference. If you ship Darklina in a what-if scenario, why not? You don't run around and tell everybody that the Darkling is not a villain or that the author did not intend for him to be a villain. You might tell everyone that the author should not have made him a 100% villain (and I'm with you there). Fanon-shipping can be quite author-critical. Canon -shipping is about our interpretation of an author's work and their characters. And while this is also a matter of opinion there is also a centuries old tradition of analyzing fictional works and characters and as difficult as that might be with an unfinished work it is still an intellectual exercise not an exercise of our imagination. A scenario where arguments actually count. Where evidence should mean something. It is so difficult within the ASOIAF fandom because the early interpretations that people came up with after AGOT are set in stone and the books are unfinished. Any evidence from the books is doubtful in that light.

One last thing that sort of supports my theory. I ship Deckerstar from the Lucifer show and I like them really very much. But the thing is, I only ever was tempted to write a fic after season 3 finished and it was unclear if netflix would take over. Other than that I have always been so happy with the writing and how the ship develops that I am enjoying fan art and gif sets and everything but there is zero need to write "what ifs". Because the writing is just perfect at least for me and I don't need any other explorations.

Thanks for the ask!

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 7

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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[Ron]

"How about right here?" asks Ron, gesturing to a small high-top table tucked away in a private corner of the bar. It looks the same as it did this morning, but it feels different. The turn of the evening has revived the chatter, and the patrons have polished their wardrobes, giving the atmosphere an air of evening excitement rather than morning regret.

"Oh. Yeah, this is fine." Hermione glances around as though looking for another, more public option. Even though certain events this afternoon showed them that being visible doesn't exactly present an obstacle to… things. Just reflecting on those events makes Ron's head spin.

"Great!" he says. "What's your poison?"

"My poison?"

"What do you want to drink? On me," he clarifies. His mind can't help but repeat and rephrase some of those words. Drink on me. The image of Hermione lying flat on a bar table turns his ears pink, and it takes immense effort to divert his eyes from her low-cut dress, which displays just enough cleavage to hold a shot of liquid.

"I'll just have some water." Disappointing.

"C'mon, we're in Vegas," he presses. "Live a little."

"Fine," she says with an eye roll. "Gin and tonic, then."

"I know you can be fun, you married me after all," he says with an air of playful smugness.

Hermione shakes her head. "I still can't believe we don't remember that."

Ron's been wracking his mind to remember anything from last night. He has no photos on his phone to spark memories, no friends for witnesses, only an ominous piece of paper stating the finality of their marriage. He's desperate to see some evidence that it's all real.

"How did you find out?" he says as he waves down the waiter to order their drinks.

"What do you mean?" asks Hermione.

"How did you know we were married? You didn't know when we woke up this morning," he smiles at the approaching waiter. "Two gin and tonics, please."

"No straws," adds Hermione, earning a groan from Ron.

"Two gin and tonics, no straws," repeats the waiter.

Hermione smiles smugly, and he's suddenly reminded of their first conversation, and how annoying her holier-than-thou attitude was. "Actually, I'll have a straw."

The waiter returns a stiff smile. "Great!"

"And food too," says Ron. "How about an appetizer plate to share?" He directs his question to Hermione who shrugs, although reluctantly.

"Coming right up."

"Really?" says Hermione when the waiter turns away. "You're still on this straw thing?"

"You're the one that's 'on a straw thing,'" he says, forming quotation marks with his fingers.

"Do you even know how many sea creatures die because they've swallowed too much plastic?" Her cheeks flush, and her eyes sparkle at her indignation. She's quite cute when she's passionate.

Ron makes a note to bring up the straw thing later, but otherwise ignores her question to repeat his own. "How did you know we were married?"

Hermione opens her mouth to argue, but decides to answer him instead.

"Someone at the bar let it slip. I was ordering drinks, and a woman came up to me and congratulated me."

"Really? Who was it?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know. I figured she mistook me for someone else, so that's what I told her. Then she showed me a photo of us."

"That must have been—"

"Hold on!" she says abruptly, her eyes narrowing at him.

"What?"

"How did you know?"

"Sorry?" he asks innocently, but Hermione seems to see right through his tone.

"Ron, did you know we were married the morning we woke up… together?"

Ron opens his mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. He hasn't thought about how to answer that question.

"Ron!"

He sighs. Honesty is probably the best policy here. "Okay, I knew about it that morning. I found our wedding certificate right before you woke up. I didn't get a chance to bring it up."

Her cheeks flush red again. "You didn't get a chance?"

"No—"

"Oh, you had a chance," she says, rolling her eyes. "We talked about sleeping together, and you didn't think to mention it?"

"No, I didn't," he begins, his tone defensive. "I hadn't even processed it myself. And you seemed quite upset. I didn't want to add insult to injury."

"You should have told me," she says, leaning back and folding her arms across her body.

"I know."

Their awkward silence is interrupted by the delivery of their drinks and appetizers. The waiter places a plate of towering nachos, pita-bread, artichoke dip and mozzarella sticks precariously balanced in the shape of a castle. Ron takes a swig of his gin and tonic through the straw, and it makes a loud slurping noise that results in a pointed scowl from Hermione.

"700," says Hermione.

"What?"

"That's the number of marine species in danger of extinction due to plastic—"

"Oh shut it," he says, and once again, the two descend into an awkward silence. Ron wonders if his commitment to the straw is the best way to rile her up. Probably not. "Do you have the photo?" he tries instead.

"Yeah, I have it," she answers, but doesn't reach for her phone to show him.

"Is there some reason you don't want me to see?"

She shrugs. "No, there's not. At least not anymore." Hermione pulls out her phone, unlocks it, and scrolls through a few images before landing on one in particular. Ron finds himself peering at her screen, curious if a glimpse of her camera roll might reveal more information about her life than she'd reveal upfront. He can't help but be curious.

She finally flips the camera to show him the photo, and all he can say is, "Wow."

In the photo, he's lifting her up as if carrying her over a threshold. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, and their lips are pressed together in a passionate kiss, not unlike the one they just experienced on the bridge. They look comfortable with each other — his hand is pretty high on her thigh, and her skin is indented where his fingers press. Naturally, his eyes float across the table to her crossed legs, visible under the hem of her short, blue sundress. It's the dress that Lavender hates, and for a good reason — it makes Hermione look hotter than the Las Vegas desert.

"Wow is right," she says, and he can tell by the playful tone of her voice that her eyes have followed his, and she knows he's gawking at her. She doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm really sorry I didn't tell you," he says, keeping his focus on her dress. "That probably wasn't the best way to find out."

"It was shocking, that's for sure," she says, her words intoned with a smile that he doesn't see.

"Okay, another question for you, Granger. Why didn't you tell me?" Even though she hasn't protested, he still feels like he's been looking at her legs for too long, so he moves his gaze back up to her face, reluctantly passing over her chest. He wouldn't want her to feel objectified… but damn, she looks good.

"What do you mean? You already knew!"

He scoffs. He'd much rather flirt than argue, but he'll take whatever interaction he can get, anything that might lead to another kiss like the one on the bridge. She seems to like arguing, and honestly, he'd love to indulge her. "Yeah, I did. But you didn't know that I knew!"

She looks away, and much to Ron's dismay, uncrosses her legs. He glues his gaze to her face, reminding himself that it would be really bad to look down now.

"You can't get angry at me for not telling you, not when you didn't either."

"I was going to tell you—"

"When?"

"After confirming it!"

Ron gestures to their photo, a smirk on his face. "This is pretty… confirming."

"Yeah, it is," she says, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"So let me get this straight," he says, leaning toward her and resting his elbows on the table. "When you found out, instead of telling me, you decided to go to Erised Elopements to confirm it?"

"Yes," she says simply, mimicking Ron and placing her elbows on the table, daring his gaze to travel south.

He keeps his eyes glued to hers, and her adorable scowl brings a smile to Ron's face. "You know, Hermione, if we're going to make this marriage work, then these double standards will have to go." He plucks a nacho from the appetizer plate between them.

She lets out a laugh before stopping herself abruptly. Ron's smile grows, knowing an accidental laugh is a genuine one. Her eyes gloss over his lips before pointedly looking away, and Ron considers bringing up the kiss. He tries to conjure up the courage, which only extends the awkward silence between them.

"Make this work?"

He shrugs. "Well, yeah."

"Ron, we're not really married." She's looking at him like he's a delusional five-year-old who needs reminding that the story in a picture book isn't real.

It frustrates him and motivates him to antagonize her in the same way seeing a cute puppy makes him want to aggressively squeeze it. Honestly, if anyone's deluded, it's her. "Ha. Yeah, Hermione, we definitely are."

"But surely, you don't want to stay married," she says, and her words should be a question, but they play out as a definitive statement.

"Do you want to stay married?" he asks.

"I asked you first."

No, you didn't. "Well… I'm not about to marry someone else, so there's no reason to get a divorce at the moment."

She gapes at him, unable to formulate an answer.

"Do you have a fiance I don't know about?"

"No, I don't have a fiance," she says indignantly.

"A boyfriend?"

"No boyfriend either."

Ron relaxes in relief. "Then we can stay married for now. I see no problem."

"You don't even know me." She picks at the plate between them, and their hands brush, sending a flutter directly to Ron's stomach. His palms break out in sweat.

It's true, he doesn't really know her, but not a lot of women make his palms sweat like this.

"Then tell me about yourself," he asks.

She's looking at him both with incredulity and caution. Her tone is softer, almost vulnerable when she speaks next. "This isn't some ploy to make Lavender jealous?"

"Who?" They might be joking about a lot of things, but he wants her to know he's serious about being over Lavender.

Hermione rolls her eyes, but the rosy tint of her cheeks and soft smile betrays her attempt to appear annoyed at him.

"I'm serious," he says as sincerely as possible. "I'd love to get to know you."

She considers him for a moment, her eyebrows raised. "So your plan is to stay married due to convenience?" She plucks a mozzarella stick from the plate and takes a bite, and Ron can't control his gaze from drifting to her mouth.

"Sure. Kind of the opposite of friends with benefits." They haven't discussed benefits yet, but maybe she'd be open to another kiss. Perhaps more than another kiss, but he doesn't want to push his luck.

"Right. Just the paperwork, no benefits," she says, leaning back and crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her arms push against her body in all the right ways, and he feels his gaze drifting even further...

"Exactly. No benefits." He's suddenly looking at her chest — how did that happen? She keeps her arms crossed gently below her breasts; she has to know she's affording him quite the view. His face is heating up quickly, and he wonders if she's amused by it. When he looks up, she's smirking at him. Tease.

"Twenty questions," she says, drawing his gaze back up to her eyes.

"Twenty questions?"

"Yep." She plucks another mozzarella stick from their shared plate, and her eyes roll back when she takes a bite.

He should make sure to remember how much she likes those.

"You said you want to get to know each other, so go ahead," she says. "Let's ask each other twenty questions."

"Why just twenty?" he asks.

"Is that one of your twenty?"

He laughs. "No."

"I am curious what questions you'll ask. It tells a lot about a person."

The pressure's on.

"You start then," he says, challenging her with his eyes.

She shrugs. "So that kiss," she says, her eyebrows raising, before falling quiet.

He shakes his head. "That's not a question. What about it?"

She smiles and continues. "It... got kind of intense."

He narrows her eyes at her. "Still not a question."

"Was it intense for you?" she asks softly. Her hand swipes by his on its way to retrieve another mozzarella stick.

He nods. "It was."

"Did it feel real to you?" she asks back.

"Hey, it's my turn for a question," he says with a smile, and Ron's beginning to enjoy the rhythm of their banter.

"Fine," she says. "Ask away."

"Were you acting?

She looks him in the eyes and shakes her head. "It felt like a real kiss."

"Felt like?"

"It was a real kiss."

He's tempted to kiss her again, right here in the bar, but he hasn't scanned his surroundings to assess whether anyone else from the wedding party is present. Although he wouldn't mind being seen snogging her — fuck, he wants to do so much more than snog her — he should at least spare her the embarrassment.

Summoning his courage, he asks, "Would you want to kiss me again?" His gaze follows her drink as she presses the glass to her lips.

She'd probably be horrified to know where Ron's imagination's traveling. He wants to kiss her again, sure, but more specifically, he wants to get drunk from the alcohol on her lips. If only he could reach out and tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her face to his. He'd open his mouth and let her explore him with her tongue while his free hand cupped her perfect tits over her dress.

If he had more flair for the dramatic, he'd clear their drinks from the table with one fell swoop of his arm — they'd crash to the floor and break, but he wouldn't care. He'd lift her onto the table and run his hand down her body while her legs wrapped around him, pulling his hardened erection right up against the heat of her knickers.

They'd probably get kicked out of the bar for such a display, but he could do so much more to her in his hotel room anyway. Back in his room, he'd one-up his drunken self by improving upon whatever they had done the night before. He was a very generous lover when he wasn't completely pissed, and he wanted more than anything to undress her, memorize her perfect body, and find out what made her tick — find out how many times he could make her tick in one night. Maybe he could set a new record.

"It's my turn to ask," she reminds him.

Suddenly aware of his public location, his growing erection, and Hermione's amused smirk, he forces himself out of the lustful fog and back into the present.

"Then ask."

"I have the same question. Would you like to kiss me again?"

He smiles. "Yes."

"Me too," she says, almost a whisper. Ron has to lean forward to hear her, which suggests her quiet tone is intentional. "It's too bad we aren't trying to convince anyone here that we're married."

Ron takes a deep breath before responding, "I'm sure someone needs convincing..."

"I'm sure they do," she says, leaning even closer, affording Ron another delightful view into her dress — one that really doesn't help him with the growing constriction in his shorts.

But unfortunately, the tent in his pants deflates when he hears a familiar sound — one of heels clacking toward him from across the bar. He groans and pulls away from Hermione at the last moment, wishing he didn't see the look of disappointment on her face.

"Won Won! There you are!"

Ron groans. "Hi, Lavender."

"Oh hi, Hermione," chirps Lavender. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Lavender," says Hermione.

Lavender seems to ignore her and slips an arm around Ron, who stiffens under her touch. "I missed you. I've been looking for you for hours."

"Well, I've been busy," he glances at Hermione as he speaks; she's observing their interaction closely with curiosity on her face.

"Are you stressed? I can help with that," she says, boldly taking a seat on Ron's lap and threading her fingers through his hair. Her lips were dangerously close to his face.

"Lav—"

"Hermione," interrupts Lavender. "Ginny has something she wants to talk to you about. Some wedding thing. You can find her in her hotel room."

Hermione narrows her eyes at Lavender, who simply smiles sweetly at her. With an eye-roll, Hermione finishes off her drink and stands. "Well, I'll talk to you later, Ron."

"Yeah, uh, sounds good."

Ron watches Hermione walk away — and how glorious it is — but Lavender must notice his attention drifting because she shifts her position to block her from view.

"We need to chat, Ron."

"What was that about, Lavender?" He pulls her hand away from his hair. She looks upset, which is fine by him, because he's upset too.

"What?" she asks, rising to her feet. Her arms form a protective barrier across her body, and she scowls at him.

"Sitting on my lap, touching me, how many times do I have to tell you that it's over between us?" Her attempt to intimidate Ron doesn't faze him, who's become immune to her power grabs over the years.

"Ron! It doesn't matter, it's not like you're really on the prowl this week. Not with all of your best man duties."

With a groan, Ron throws back the rest of his drink before slapping the glass back onto the table. The sound makes Lavender flinch. "You're right, I'm not. That doesn't mean I want your hands all over me." He stands and brushes past Lavender toward the bar exit.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my room. Don't follow me!" He doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of looking back at her, but he can hear the clicking of her heels pursuing closely behind him.

"RON!" Her shriek causes the bar to quiet down, and people are suddenly staring.

To avoid looking like a total arsehole, he turns to face her. "What?"

The look on her face catches him off-guard. She's dropped her arms to her side, and her expression has softened. She looks sad. Hurt. And rather than kindling Ron's anger, it makes him feel guilty.

"You broke up with me promising we'd be friends, and now you hardly talk to me. I just want to talk about it."

Her eyes start to water, and Ron realizes his attempts to avoid looking like an arsehole have failed. He's not just looking like one, he's being one.

"Okay," he says in as sympathetic a tone as he can muster. "Let's talk."

[carewyncromwell]

I hate to be so down on Year 7 when it’s only just started, but...I gotta say, if the whole idea of Hogwarts Mystery is to be something of a fantasy for the player, allowing them to imprint on an MC that goes to Hogwarts and becomes Prefect and Head Kid and plays Quidditch and collects all sorts of pets and magical creatures and stuff...then wow, I guess a lot of people’s fantasies are different than mine. Or at least, the staff of Jam City’s.

Because here’s the thing -- when I was a kid, I moved a lot. The longest I ever stayed in one house was six years, and that was for my second middle school and all of high school. I haven’t even lived in one place longer than that since. I’d moved five times before I even started second grade. My life has always been very transient, which made it close to impossible for me to lay down roots...and, therefore, I made a lot of friends over the years who I’ve subsequently lost touch with after leaving the area. I never had my own Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger who stuck with me through thick and thin. A lot of the friends I’ve had in the past were fair-weather, and although I don’t angst over that much or anything because I do still feel fondness for the memories we had and I know I’m just as much to blame for not trying harder to stay in touch, I realize that that kind of stability and lasting friendship is something I’ve never really had in my life.

So for me, one of the things that appealed to me so much about the wonderful, diverse cast we meet through Hogwarts Mystery were the friendships our MCs would get to make. I wanted my girl Carewyn to have friends who would stick with her when times got tough -- who would give her just as much as she gave them -- who wouldn’t abandon her when she showed the sides of her that weren’t all that pretty. I wanted her to have a Weasley best friend, like Harry did...and that Weasley ended up being Bill, who I loved even while first reading the books and have only become fonder of since! I wanted Carewyn to find a warm, loving family of friends that she could love just as deeply as she did her mother and brother. Dueling and Quidditch and magical side quests are fine...but what I wanted most was for my girl to grow through reaching out to others and through them reaching back.

But this is one of the biggest problems I have with Hogwarts Mystery as a game and almost as a concept. Because MC is supposed to be a self-insert for the player, the game developers are reluctant to give MC too much personality, since it could potentially (and inevitably will) contradict how the player views their character. This means, though, that the game creators can’t write any compelling relationships between MC and the other characters that actually fuel character development and organic plot turns, because it would either make it so that every single choice the player makes has the power to change things (which would be a programming nightmare) or that the player has no say in how MC behaves (which would frustrate the player). And when relationships are about how two different personalities interact and bounce off of each other, it’s almost impossible to have interesting chemistry between one semi-fleshed out character and another nebulous and vague character that could be replaced by absolutely anyone. Add to that that the game almost always focuses on friendships that involve MC to the exclusion of all others, and it results in our diverse, potentially interesting cast of characters having no relationships that could really prompt them to grow and develop as people, at least not in an organic sense.

This is why we don’t see Ismelda softening as much as she probably should have, after coming to grips with her unrequited feelings for Barnaby and growing closer to Beatrice.

This is why we don’t see Cedric gaining more confidence, while bonding with Ben and/or Diego over wizard dueling.

This is why we don’t see Charlie learning how to trust again after Rakepick’s betrayal by connecting with other members of the Circle of Khanna like Barnaby and Liz.

This is why we don’t see Tonks and Tulip constantly bouncing off each other and doing pranks together, and maybe inspiring future mischief makers Fred and George in the process.

This is why we don’t see Ben, Merula, or MC having learned any lessons about keeping secrets or not trusting their friends after what happened to Rowan.

This is even why we’re all left wondering if every choice MC has made regarding Merula their entire school career had any impact on her at all, upon finding out she was the mole.

And this is why I’m rewriting year 6, because this is what that part of the story should’ve been all about -- cultivating that love and trust. After the events of year 5, MC and by extension their friends were scared. They’d been betrayed by an authority figure they’d trusted, who then proceeded to come back and kill one of their closest friends. Our response to that -- namely, the Circle of Khanna -- should’ve been fueled by fear’s worst enemy: love. It’s a theme familiar to the original Potter novels, that love is stronger than fear, and it’s one that I think just about anyone can draw strength from. MC brought their friends together physically, but did they ever bring them together emotionally? MC’s friends are willing to fight to get revenge for Rowan and capture Rakepick, but by the time year 7 starts, everyone is so focused on themselves that they won’t even take a minute to listen to MC when they asked the group to meet up and was clearly concerned about something. They don’t even care enough to hear what MC’s concern even is. That tells me that the answer to that question is no -- MC and crew created a whole friggin’ secret society, and yet the chains of camraderie they forged are as insubstantial as tissue paper. But then again, what do you expect, when MC only ended up needed three of the Circle’s members (Merula, Ben, and Barnaby) to deal with the Sunken Vault and only two (Jae and Tonks) to get a single shred of information about R?

So yeah, Jam City...I’ll respect whatever you want to do from here as much as I can, but it’s not canon for Carewyn Cromwell. Our plot lines have always diverged on several things (Jacob’s characterization and development, Carewyn’s mother Lane’s family being part of R, and how Carewyn reacted to the events in the Portrait Vault, for example)...but consider them formally divorced after the formation of the Circle of Khanna.

[stdm]

“So...how’s Weasley?” “Malfoy stop, you don’t want to hear about my break up with Ron, and I know I certainly don’t want to know about why there’s currently a dent where your wedding ring should be.” A prompt.... this has been running about in my brain for a month and I have no idea what to do with it.

I just saw this sorry anon, don’t know how old this is but here you go! 

Another obligatory ministry function that was so dull Draco was currently staring at his drink watching his ice melt. He hated these types of affairs long before he started working here but attendance was expected. He had made his obligatory rounds and proper appearances already but it was only just over an hour in, still too early to make an exit. So here he sat at the bar staring at the drink and the ring finger on the left hand which held it.

He knew who had approached the bar before she spoke, her signature scent was still the same since their Hogwarts days. “Fire whiskey please, make it a double” he turned to see her tanned hands rubbing her temples. She graciously took the drink from the bartender with a forced smile.

“Cheers Granger” he muttered barely loud enough for her to hear. Hermione turned to him raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. She tilted her glass, “cheers Malfoy” and downed the entire contents of her glass.

Well that was surprising. He raised an eyebrow of his own and she merely shrugged. Draco called for another round from the bartender and got her one as well. He handed her the glass and brought his own to his lips as they sipped in a comfortable silence.

That was often how they were. Hermione had needed Draco’s assistance on cases from time to time the past couple years. They would work together, quietly pouring over documents and reading through records until one of them made a discovery. He wouldn’t call them friends per se, as they never really did anything outside of work and work functions, but they had grown comfortable in each other’s presence.  

“How much longer until Shacklebolt makes his speech you think?” he ventured.

“I would say it’s unlikely you can sneak out until a quarter past,” she stated flatly.

She knew him well enough. He looked at the watch on his left wrist and let out a sigh - another 45 minutes. “Well it may be less of a sneak and more of stumble if I try and keep up with you.” Making it clear he saw how quickly her second drink was disappearing.

She shrugged, “You hate these things as much as I do so I am surprised you’re not already sloshed.”

“Why would you hate these affairs Granger? You are always being fawned over and getting to deal with the press, and I know how much you enjoy both,” a smirk crept up his face. “Should I search you purse for a trapped fly or have you learned new tricks of controlling journalists who ask stupid questions?”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut again. Yes, that was a fun bit of information he had learned a couple years back; clever witch.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. I have been the picture of innocence tonight, despite the myriad of far too personal questions from reporters.” A smirk of her own now plastered on her lovely face.

“That is, until you started heavily drinking with questionable company”

She smiled at him, finally sitting down on the barstool next to him.

He took another sip, letting the liquid give him courage to return the smile then ask the question he knew had been long off limits.

“So...how’s Weasley?”

“Malfoy stop, you don’t want to hear about my break up with Ron, and I know I certainly don’t want to know about why there’s currently a dent where your wedding ring should be.”

He followed her gaze to bare hand sitting on the bar between them shaking his head. Taking another sip, daring to be vulnerable.

“All the papers were finalized today, I am sure there will be an announcement in the Prophet come Monday. For the best, and all that.” He said it as if the news was as mundane as the weather.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly reverting back to the defeated look she had before her first shot. That wouldn’t do.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic Granger; truly is for the best. We were bloody miserable, both stuck in a marriage of our parents’ creation rather than a real relationship. I respect her immensely for bucking up the courage to tell her parents to ‘fuck off’ so she could finally be happy. Forced me to do the same actually.”

“And how did you dear father take that”

“As he is already furious that I am not interested in the family businesses, he didn’t really react. Although, somehow my mother was shocked I wasn’t happy with Astoria and demanded I start the divorce paperwork immediately so I could get on with a ‘more joyful life’ for myself.”

Hermione nearly spit out her drink with a laugh. “Had she never seen you two together? I’m sorry but if that’s what happy looks like to her she may need an intervention of her own. You two had no chemistry whatsoever and-”

“Don’t hold back Granger.”

Her hand shot over her mouth. “Oh sorry, that was terribly rude. I am so sorry. I’ll just..” She was blushing profusely and edging back in her seat as if to make a quick exit. Draco grabbed her hand bringing her attention back to him and her eyes softened as she saw the playful smirk resting on his lips.

“Honestly, you’re not wrong. We had nothing in common and, while I think she is a lovely girl, we couldn’t force it any longer. Truly wish her the best, but it had been over since the start.”

She gave him a sincere smile and squeezed his hand for extra reassurance before taking another sip. They sat in another comfortable silence while Hermione’s thoughts raced. He saw her mind work; she wore her thoughts and emotions on her face clear as day since school.   “Spit it out Granger,” he said with mild amusement.

Her gaze dropped back to her now empty glass. “I think I know exactly what you mean. Forced and over from the start.” Hermione sighed deeply “I was just tired. We were friends for so long that once the butterflies and adrenaline faded we would fight each other about who let them fade first. We were both bored and knew how to cut to the core after a decade of knowing each other so intimately. Our fights got uglier and the make ups got shorter until it felt like all we did was fight. Ron has always had a temper and I have long been vindictive as you and that fly know.” She actually turned to wink at him.

Draco had been listening intently but took a moment to look in her eyes and smirk. “That we do” The bartender came by just then to ask about another round.

She nodded, taking a beat to gather her words. “I was going through some old things nearly a month ago and found a photo of us as teens. We were so happy, laughing with each other without a care. Those two kids didn’t even feel like us. Too much had happened and that ease had faded and I realized I missed my friend. I long ago ran out of tears but I took the photo and dropped it on his lap, and we talked. There wasn’t any fight left in us that day, so we finally talked and ended things. While the press found out just a week ago and I am not at your level of acceptance just yet, I feel lighter and I know it was for the best. I don’t know if we can ever be best friends again, but I do want him to be happy.”

She took the drink that was placed before her with a smile and took a sip. She was clearly avoiding Draco’s eyes after exposing her so much of her personal life for the first time.

“And what of your own happiness Granger?”

She could feel his intense gaze but she shrugged. People had started to gather near the stage as speeches from various ministry officials began before the Minister’s address. She began to turn in her seat, planning on getting up and joining the crowd when a firm hand grabbed her knee and turned her to fully face him. Their legs were brushing each other, and she immediately felt the heat radiate through her whole body. She wouldn’t lift her eyes, too worried he would see the mass of emotions hidden in her amber orbs. Her Gryffindor courage often seemed to leave her when Draco was near, so she kept her stare fixed on the hand still resting on her knee. She pulled in a sharp breath as his other hand touched her chin and lifted her head so he could meet her stare. Hermione was burning up under his intensity, despite the fire whiskey now a forgot part of the room. There was nothing here but her and Draco.

He asked her again, “and your happiness?”

His gaze conveyed all the emotions she was feeling, so she forced herself to close her eyes. She knew many of her happiest moments over the past years had been with this man. Watching him logic his way through problems, work alongside him, and celebrating their work triumphs all brought her such joy.  These moments of reprieve from the galas, fundraisers and the like, together at a bar were a solace. She had caught herself imagining a happy life with him long before it was appropriate. A life of being challenged and growing, of the blissful comfortable silences she only really shared with him. The idea had always made her smile but felt out of reach. This was all too real now. If his eyes were to be believed in this moment, he had imagined that too.

“You are overthinking again Granger” Her eye shot open as she both heard and felt the whisper over her lips.

Draco was so close now; she found all her courage and finally met his eyes. She poured every bit of feeling into her stare hoping to meet his intensity. “I have thought about my happiness quite a bit” she whispered back, hoping he would understand her. His hand moved to the back of her neck, never breaking their eye contact. “I have thought about your happiness quite a bit as well.”

Hermione thought she saw the start of his signature smirk before he leaned in and kissed her. She returned the kiss deepening it with a flurry of passion that had long been pent up.

When they finally pulled back their magic was thick around them.

“I’d like to make you happy Hermione”

Her first name on his lips would have made her legs buckle if she was not sitting down.

“You already do Draco”

The blonde kissed her again, pulling her up from their seats and walking to the exit. He was not going to wait another minute to be happy with this amazing witch. And that started with a proper date this instant.

[hpconsentfest]

Consent Fest 2019: Masterlist

CF friends--here we are. After months of prompting, creating, betaing, revising, reading, hyping, squeeing, and guessing, it’s time for reveals. 

As with last year, the mods were staggered by the depth of thought and care and time and energy that everyone put into their creations. Likewise, we were heartened every time we saw a like, reblog, kudos, comment, or other hype.

Thank you to every creators and every reader and hyper for giving this fest such a wonderful, community vibe--you folks make CF.

<3

Now, without further ado, read on for reveals!

ART

Title: Coming loose Artist: @owlpostart Prompt: #80 Rating: E Pairing: None Warnings/Content Notes: Lots of very pornographic NSFW drawings,  internalised acephobia, unenjoyable sex, bite and blood fetish.   Summary: Pansy Parkinson has a lot of sex. Until she realises that it’s okay to not want to. Medium: Ink and marker on paper

 Title: Human, Not Object Artist: @nifflers-n-nargles Prompt: #23 Rating: Teen Warnings/Content Notes: Street harassment, cat calling, unsolicited touching, verbal harassment of a sexual nature, fighting back, defiant woman, powerful woman Summary: Fleur Delacour has endured harassment of all kinds from men from a young age. Growing up she’s told that’s “just what men do.” As a powerful woman learning to navigate the world she finds this mentality unacceptable and chooses to live her life defiantly. Medium: Digital

 Title: Something they don’t want to be afraid of Artist: @impasseart Prompt: # 21 Rating: explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Internalized Homophobia, unenjoyable sex in a flashback See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco struggles with his internalized homophobia and fears, even when he really wants something. Last time, it went ugly. And ugly won’t do. They have to try again. Find a way to make it better. Medium: digital art

 Title: Who They Are Artist: @spaceaas Prompt: #15 Rating: G Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: genderqueer/nonbinary character, minor transphobia that is more unintended ignorance than anything else Summary: Draco’s always known who they are. They’ve just been waiting for someone to listen. Medium: Digital

FIC

Title: All The Little Signs Add Up Author: @gold-from-straw Prompt: # 49 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Past domestic abuse, past child abuse Summary: Harry starts to notice some worrying signs in his relationship with Draco. He flinches when Harry moves too quickly, he thinks everything is going to be blamed on him, and he doesn’t think his own desires count. Harry, fresh from dealing with his own childhood PTSD, jumps to some conclusions. Some of them are right, some of them are way off. Word Count: 9624

 Title: Blind Item #3 Author: @postjentacular Prompt: #88 Rating: T Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy Warnings/Content Notes:  tabloids, right to privacy, forced outing, homophobic slurs, rated T for swearing, british sixteen year old talking about sex, blink and you’ll miss it threat of sexual violence Summary:  What’s the ssssecret doing the rounds in a certain common room? Rumour has it that the other snakes have been turning a blind eye to this burgeoning love affair, but what will the boys’ fathers say when they hear about it?   Word Count: 7064

Title: Blood Will Out Author: @frnklymrshnkly Prompt: # 87 Rating: T Pairing: Marietta Edgecombe/Pansy Parkinson Warnings/Content Notes: menstruation, PMS, endometriosis, heavy bleeding, cramps, intense period pain, Healers, doctors, hospitals, exams, critique of Healing and medical institutions, family secrets, memory modification, horrible parenting, blood status discourse, self-reflection redemption arcs See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Marietta Edgecombe doesn’t need re-education. She’s done nothing wrong. She just wants to keep her head down and keep her job. At least until Pansy Parkinson starts acting weird and a visit to the Healer suddenly brings the post-war conversation too close for comfort. Word Count: 21565

 Title: Capture the moment (Capture my heart) Author: @all-drarry-to-me Prompt number: 24 Rating: Mature Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Asexual Draco Malfoy, Demisexuality, Queer Character, Brief mention (from previous encounter) of Mildly Dubious Consent, Photographs, Minor Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley Summary: Surrounded by photographs with just a cat to keep him company, Draco was left questioning his identity and what a new label would mean for his relationship with Harry. Word Count: 9,612

Title: Curry & Wine Author: @dorthyanndrarry Prompt: # 35 Rating: Mature Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Mentions of main character being pressured to have sex in the past Summary:  Harry’s promised Draco their first proper date. What could be better than homemade curry, a little wine, a much-needed talk? Word Count: 1,651

Title: Epoximise Author: @ladderofyears Prompt: #10 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Consent Notes: Press and Tabloids, Dom/Sub Play, Sub Harry Potter, Dom Draco Malfoy, Sex Magic, Kink Spells, Coming on Demand, Dildos, Magic used as a Restraint, Panic Attacks, Discussion about Consent, Discussion about setting Ground Rules before Sexual Activity, Discussion about Safe Words, Sexual Triggers. Word count: 2487

Title: Forbidden Fruit Author: @momstiel Prompt: # 15 Rating: Teen Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Internalized Homophobia Summary: “To Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter had always been akin to forbidden fruit.” In which Harry comes out as genderqueer, and Draco envies his self-confidence. Word Count: 1,907 

 Title: The Generation Who Lived Author: @lettersbyelise Prompt: # 11 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Journalist Draco Malfoy, Enemies to lovers, Past relationship, Getting back together, Minor Luna/Neville, Minor Ginny/Blaise, Interview format, Post second war with Voldemort, Enthusiastic consent, Rimming, Anal sex, POV Draco Malfoy Summary: In the months leading up to the 10th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy writes a series of articles about famous war survivors.

So far, he’s managed to interview everyone he wanted.

Everyone…except his old nemesis, his one-time lover, and the elusive war hero who stubbornly refuses to be featured in Draco’s interview series, Harry Potter. Word Count: 14761

Title:I See You In The Club Author: Elle Gray (LGray) Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/OMC Warnings/Content Notes: Sex club, Dom/sub play, Light Bondage, Age difference, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent due to Identity Issues, Ruminating on the Topic of Consent See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco, recently divorced (for the second time) is finally free to explore ‘other interests’. In particular, reconnecting with some long-put-aside desires to play with dominance. He’s not confident in what he’s doing, but he’s done his research, and surely this delectable young thing, kneeling in wait for him, can help?

'Hello,’ he says, and feels immediately stupid.

'Hello, Sir,’ Alex says, his voice low, barely above a whisper. Draco wonders if it’s an effort to sound sexy, or show submission, or if his throat is so well-fucked by others that he can no longer talk. He doesn’t even know if it matters. Word Count: 12909

Title: Knights in Shining Armour (Ever After Lovers) Author: @thirdeyeblinkings Prompt #: 23 Rating: M Pairing: Bill Weasley/Fleur Delacour Warnings: No major archive warnings See tagset on AO3 Summary: Fleur has been objectified for most of her life, her bodily autonomy often dismissed. Being part Veela only makes matters worse. Word Count: 8.6 k

Title: Like The Sun Author: @marlenemckinn Prompt:  #78 Rating: T Pairing: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black Warnings/Content Notes: Unaware Veritaserum consumption See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Sirius wants a good laugh and when he comes across some Veritaserum, he decides slipping into Remus Lupin’s, the ever guarded werewolf, pumpkin juice will be a great way to start their day. Remus ends up revealing a bit more than Sirius had anticipated. Word Count: 4033

 Title: Lily Luna, Unapologetic: The Things We Don’t Talk About (But Should) Author: @nifflers-n-nargles and @slashfoxes  Prompt: #39 Rating: Hard T Pairing: None Warnings/Content Notes: Implied Dubcon/Noncon, Offscreen Dubcon/Noncon, Implied Violence (offscreen), Implied vs Explicit Consent, Consent Issues, Teaching Consent, Sex Education, Peer Pressure, Harry Potter Next Generation, Badass!Lily Luna, When Internet Meets Magic, Alternative format: magazine profile Summary: “Before I can get my first question out Lily asks me, ‘When was the first time someone gave you a sex talk?’I find myself telling her about overhearing my mom in my older sister’s room when she was home on hols from Hogwarts in her fourth year—I was 10 and had just received my letter. It was the year there had been a string of love potion ‘accidents’ and I could tell my mum was worried.

She nods and jots something down in her notebook. As I continue telling her about these memories, I wonder why I’m sharing all this information with Lily. Aren’t I the one supposed to be interviewing her?

‘That sounds awful,’ she commiserates, ‘but can I ask you one more thing?’ I nod, curiosity piqued by her tone. ‘When was the first time someone talked to you about consent?’” Word Count: ~8,000

 Title: Long live the beautiful heart (who find love and tear it apart) Author: @etalice Prompt: #46 Rating: GEN Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Angst, Depression, Abusive relationship See full tagset on AO3 Summary: If Harry were someone else, someone who loves and understand books, someone like Hermione or Draco, he might think of a classical tragedy. He might section the whole catastrophe neatly into five acts and make sense of it that way. But he’s not, and so he doesn’t, and, anyway it’s just the beginning of the story yet. Word Count: 6630

Title: (Never) Be Still My Beating Heart Author: @sliceosunshine Prompt: Self-Prompt Rating: M Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes:  Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Trauma,  Violence, some blood, Vampires, Light Dubcon Parallels, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, further explanation of dubcon tag in A/N See full tagset on AO3 Summary:  Post-War, Draco decides he’s done being comfortable. Which turns out to be quite convenient as he’s thrust headlong into a case involving a Serial Biting Vampire. Worst of all, Potter’s gotten himself involved. Draco thinks he can take it, so long as his heart doesn’t give out on him along the way.   Word Count:  15595  

 Title: a note to the boy I love Author: @violetclarity Prompt: # 81 Rating: E Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy Warnings: Underage See full tagset on AO3 Content Notes: epistolary, first person POV, established relationship, school romance, communication, consent, sexting except in letters because they are wizards, underage in that they are both seventeen (17), first time, loss of virginity (but that’s a social construct anyway), letter writing, dirty talk (sort of), vignettes, kissing, frottage, dry humping, oral sex, love confessions, boys in love Summary: Albus knows what he wants to do in bed with Scorpius, but struggles with actually talking about it. Scorpius’s solution? Writing letters. Word Count: 4,359

Title: A pink tie, a box of condoms Author: Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe Prompt: 52 Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: See tagset on AO3 Summary: It had been months since they’d last seen each other.  And if Potter didn’t show up soon… Word Count: 1459

 Title: One and Only Author: @nerdherderette Prompt: # 20 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Draco Malfoy Warnings/Content Notes: Bodyguard AU, Bodyguard!Draco, Minister for Magic!Harry Potter, Pansexual Albus Potter, Potions Accident, Forced Bonding, Sharing a Bed, Legilimency, Explicit Sexual Content, Masturbation, Frottage, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Bottom!Draco Malfoy, Age Difference, Implied/Reference Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, References to Addiction, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Eventual Consensual Relationship, Romance Summary: Draco always knew his downfall would be at the hands of a Potter.He just never realised which one. Word Count: 19.6k

Title: Risks Worth Taking Author: @keyflight790 Prompt: 83 Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Light BDSM, Dubious Consent, Mildly Dubious Consent See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco and Harry broke up 78 nights ago. Only a miracle (or perhaps an errant spell) could bring them back together. Word Count: 18,149

  Title: Ron Weasley and the Clothes of Doom Author: Liesha130 Prompt: #86 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Ron Weasley Warnings/Content Notes: (I honestly don’t know) Summary: Do the clothes make the man?Ron Weasley thinks he has no chance, until one night when he dresses up and Blaise Zabini can’t take his eyes off him. The solution is easy, then, right? Ron just has to keep dressing up, and Blaise will keep wanting him. But every time Ron puts the new clothes on, he’s sent spiraling off into a past filled with insecurity. Will he really be able to keep this up without going completely bonkers? And what does Blaise actually want from him, anyway? Word Count: 32,872

Title: Safe Words Author: @e-sebastian Prompt: # 47 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Consent, BDSM, Bondage, Whipping, Safe words, Safe Sane and Consensual, Kink, Family Drama, lots of book reading, Dirty Talk, Slapping, Kink Negotiation, Rough Sex, Accidental Bodily Harm, Remorse, Weasley Bashing, Molly Bashing, but please know it’s from Draco’s admittedly skewed perspective, In this house we love Molly Weasley to death even if our characters don’t always, Married couples are kinky too Summary: Draco discovers his husband has been keeping a secret from him. At first he’s amused. Then he’s curious.

The problem? Harry’s always had a hard time saying no. Word Count: 26,867

Title: Sex Ed for Witches and Wizards of All Ages Author: AhaMarimbas Prompt: # 68 Rating: E Pairing: Multi-ship Warnings/Content Notes: Major Character Death, Underage, Explicit sexual content See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco and Astoria decide on their wedding night that they’re not going to raise their future children with the same outdated traditions they were raised with, especially relating to love and sex. They never could have predicted exactly how much that decision would change Scorpius’ life. Word Count: 76 732

 Title: So sweet with that blood in your teeth Author: @bangyababy Prompt: # 16 Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Dom/Sub, Consent issues, vampires, sleep issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mind manipulation, depression See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Harry works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. His latest case his to stop a vampire uprising lead by none other than Draco Malfoy. Malfoy seems willing to negotiate with the Ministry. There’s just one small condition: Harry has to agree to be Malfoy’s dinner. Word Count: 25k

 Title: swallow your words Author: @candybarrnerd Prompt: # 67 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter  Warnings/Content Notes: No archive warnings apply Summary: The truth is, not many things are known about the magic that is behind soulmarks. They’ll turn up when they want and not before.

The truth is, you don’t get a choice in your soulmark. The truth is, not everyone is okay with that. Word Count: 9,140

Title: That’s Ace Author: @acciotomriddle Prompt: Self-prompt Rating: Explicit Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Asexual character, bisexual character, sex toys, non-penetrative sex, mutual masturbation, monogamy Summary:  Charlie is asexual. Harry isn’t. They still find a way to satisfy both of their needs, however   Word Count: 2080

 Title: They Talked Author: @unadulteratedstorycollector Prompt: Self-prompt Rating: Teen Pairing: Ron & Draco (platonic) Warnings/Content Notes: none Summary:  Is it ok if they talk? Draco isn’t sure, but it keeps happening. Word Count: 1094

 Title: This Year’s Love Author: @thusspoketrish Prompt: Self-Prompt. H/D—how to navigate feelings for your best mate. Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: This story discusses complex topics such as slut-shaming, promiscuity, heartbreak, dating culture(s), and sexual autonomy within everyday life. See full tagset on AO3 Summary: This year’s love had better last, heaven knows it’s high time when you try to make lovers from friends. But Harry Potter realises time and time again that it’s simply not possible for him. And then along comes Draco Malfoy— the ultimate foe on the mend. Whatever will become of them? A story about love. Word Count: 84000

Title: A Touch Of Respect Author: @rose-grangerweasleyisbae Prompt: #90 Rating: Teen Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Family Drama, Touch Phobia, Panic Attacks, Old Fashioned Parenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Past Minor Character Death (Astoria), Past Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter, Child in Hospital Summary: Five year old Scorpius isn’t fond of people touching him, and he has a million reasons for it. However, his father is of the opinion that just saying ‘no’ should be enough without giving any of those reasons, but not everyone in his new-found family agrees. Word Count: 23.432

Title: Unconditional Author: @ladderofyears Prompt: #32 Rating: Teen and up Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy Warnings/Consent Notes: Anxiety, Boys in Love, First Boyfriend, First Kiss, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Feelings of Inadequacy in a relationship, Discussions of Pyschological and Emotional Manipulation, Relationship Discussions, non-consensual touching, Scorpius gives good advice, Mild Bigoted Language to describe Asexuality, Discussions about Healthy Relationships, Demisexual Albus Potter, Awakening Feelings of Desire, Eventual happy Ending. Word count: 7277

 Title: The Way Your Heart Touches Mine Author: @bafflinghaze Prompt: # 56 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: N/A Summary: What does it mean when a certain someone gives you numerous gifts on ordinary days? Harry’s kind of sure (and mostly hoping) that Draco likes him. So why hasn’t Draco asked him out yet? Word Count: 3.9k

 Title: The Words that Pass Between Us Author: @elderxprice Prompt: # 28 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: POV Draco Malfoy; Invasion of Privacy; Loss of Trust; Infidelity; Misogyny, Classism, Unredeemed Draco Malfoy, Verbal Abuse of a House Elf  Summary: Sometimes, Draco draws pictures of what could have been, had he made all the right choices: Draco in the Slug Club; Draco holding the Quidditch World Cup; Draco holding hands with some nameless, faceless person whose become some sick, secret sort of friend. He’s on every page Draco has touched. He flies with him, sleeps with him, laughs with him. And sometimes, if he pretends hard enough, Draco swears he can feel this person’s breath against his neck; a whispered I love you that has him pressing into the mattress every night, only to wake up alone wishing it were real. Word Count: 10,047

 Title: Working Out The Kinks Author: @potter-loves-malfoy Prompt: #18 Rating: E Pairing: Jeddy Warnings/Content Notes: Mild Dom/Sub Elements, Mild DubCon See full tagset on AO3 Summary:

There are three things James Sirius Potter is certain of:

One: He’s loved his boyfriend since he learned what romantic love was;

Two: There is nothing James wants more than said boyfriend to pound him into the mattress;

Three: His boyfriend, Teddy Lupin, can never find out about number two.

—or—

Four times James tried to pretend he wasn’t submissive and the one time he didn’t.

Word Count: 6,247

 Title: You Set My Soul Alight Author: @parkkate Prompt: #13 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Post-War, Auror partners, case fic, enemies to lovers, mystery, romance, adventure, pining, getting together, forced proximity, bed sharing, banter, UST, loss of virginity, first time, dub-con, consent issues, secrets, misunderstandings, miscommunication, sleep talking, frottage, rimming, face-sitting, intergluteal sex, anal sex, switching, blow jobs, fluff, angst, angst with a happy ending, references to suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced child abuse, references to depression, mental health issues, emotional hurt/comfort, minor character death, arguing, reconciliation, ewe Summary: Students are going missing at Hogwarts, but that’s not the only mystery Draco is determined to solve. Something’s going on with Potter. He can deny it all he wants. Draco is going to find out what it is. Unfortunately, trying to get to the bottom of it has some unexpected consequences and if Draco isn’t careful, he’s going to jeopardise their mission. Word Count: 54k

[fanficimagery]

Imagine being the neighbor to the Weasley's. You've gotten along fabulously with the family and during a drunken game of Hide and Seek, when you rush in through the back door of the Burrow, you finally meet the one Weasley you've yet to meet. Bill.

Bill X Reader

Panting heavily, you push your legs to run faster. The Burrow is within your sights, and since you've been living next door to the Weasley's for quite some time now and have been keyed into their wards, it's easy to run through the garden and in through the back door.

"Hide me!"

Molly is at the stove, no doubt mixing up a wonderful dinner, and there's another redhead sitting at the table. You stare long enough to see he has red hair down to his shoulders and a few scars littering his face before Molly tuts and points in a certain direction. You smile at her and lunge for the pantry door, throwing said door open before hiding yourself away inside.

"Uhhh.."

"Not now, dear," Molly tells her apparent family member. "You're going to give her away."

Snickering at the male's confused expression through the slates on the door, you back away to hide further in the shadows when Harry jogs through the back entrance. "Hey, Molly. Bill." His thunderous expression smooths out to one of friendly manners. "You haven't seen anyone run through here, have you?"

Molly shakes her head. "Not a soul, dear. Is everything alright?"

His expression tightens, but he manages a smile for his future mother-in-law. "Fine. If you happen to see Y/N or Hermione, don't let them know I'm near. I want to surprise them."

Slapping a hand over your mouth to keep the giggles at bay, you wait until Harry exits the kitchen to no doubt search upstairs. A minute passes and then Mrs. Weasley calls out, "He's gone, dearie. You can come out now."

Stumbling out of the pantry, you bite your lip to keep laughter from escaping and alerting Harry to your presence. You then head straight for the Weasley matriarch. "You're the best, Mama Red." Throwing your arms around her in a hug, you then pressing a smacking kiss to her cheek. "Next time I come over I'll bring over my mom's recipe for apple cinnamon muffins."

Molly beams, but her reply is cut short by someone clearing their throat. "Ahem."

Your gaze darts to the intruder and you grin. "So another Weasley? It's like Christmas has come early."

The male chuckles and Molly swats you with a dish towel. "Hush, you. That's Bill. Bill, this is Y/N. She and her family live next door. After befriending your brothers, she gets quite excited when another Weasley she has yet to meet pops up."

"Not just any Weasley, Molly. You know your eldest are the only ones I hadn't met and I was quite excited to after hearing what they did for a living. And after meeting Charlie, I figured this must be Bill. The cursebreaker."

"The one and only," Bill muses. "Now the question is, what did you do to Harry? He looked murderous when he ran up in here."

Your shoulders shake with suppressed laughter and you take several steps away from Molly since you know she will swing that dish towel when she hears of what you did. "Ever since I told George he was cute, but not really my type, he's been trying to feed me one of his Weasley products to be infatuated with him for the day so he can embarrass me." Taking a seat near Bill, your eyes twinkle with mischief as you ready yourself to tell him the events of earlier today. "Hermione realized my drink was tampered with, so with a few spells here and there we managed to switch out my drink for George's while also changing the potion he had slipped into the drink."

"You didn't?" Bill laughs. "How does Harry play into this then?"

"Well," you drawl. "The potion might have changed so that the person who drank it was left unharmed, but those within a certain distance were suddenly whammied and infatuated with George. Harry may have stepped into the danger zone and suddenly found your brother attractive." Bill erupts in laughter and Molly huffs while muttering about dangerous pranks. "Harry also might have snogged George before Ginny knocked him away with a spell so he was level-headed again."

As Bill laughs, you can't help but take in his scarred face. You've heard about the eldest brother, but you never really gave him much thought. But now faced with him, you can't help but notice how attractive he really is- scars included. The fanged earring hanging from one ear and the shoulder length hair tucked behind his ear also factors in to how much you suddenly find him attractive.

Thundering footsteps rushing downstairs can be heard and you squeak before dropping to the floor. Bill gapes at you as you roll under the table and Molly chortles at her son's horrified expression when you tuck yourself close to his legs. Bill starts to ask what the hell you're doing when you pinch his thigh and his yelp is quickly turned into a cough when Harry re-enters the kitchen.

Harry leaves the Burrow, but not before promising Molly that he’ll remind Ron about dinner. Once he's gone and Molly watches him disapparate from the kitchen window, you crawl back out and squeeze Bill's shoulder.

"I totally owe you a pint," you laugh. "I didn't mean to become so close and personal with your junk on the first meeting." Bill's face pinks and Molly purses her lips together to keep from laughing or ruining a moment in the making. "Major thanks to not giving me up to Boy Wonder." Looking at Molly then, you wink, "See you later, Mama Red. Thanks for hiding me."

Turning on your heel, you disapparate without another word.

Bill gapes, watching the space you'd just vanished from. "She's, uh... she's something else, isn't she?"

Molly hides just how happy her son asking after you makes her, especially after his sudden divorce from Fleur. "That she is, Bill. Now will you go call your father in from his shed? Dinner's just about ready."

Having apparated to Hogsmeade since you've come to learn that the Three Broomsticks is the last place one would be creepily hit on by any seedy individuals, you're happily enjoying a mug of Madam Rosmerta's oak-matured mead and a plate of fish n' chips. You've had a long day of work at Magical Menagerie and was in need of a wind down after several cats managed to open their cage doors and run amok.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

Chip half way to your mouth, you glance up and see Bill standing there with an easy going smile. You pop it in your mouth, chewing and nodding. "Hey, Weasley. Long time no see."

"It's been three days."

"It was a long three days." He chuckles and steals a chip, popping it into his own mouth with twinkling eyes as your own narrow at his thievery. "Watch it, William. You wouldn't want to lose a finger, would you?"

His eyes widen, but he steals another chip anyway. "After all I did for you the other day and you still treat me this way? Merlin, woman, you're harsh. Maybe next time I'll let Harry know exactly where you're at."

Nose wrinkling, you sip your mead. "Harry already caught up to me."

"Yeah? What was the result? He get back at you and 'Mione?"

"Unfortunately," you mumble. "But we will not speak of it. I don't think I can look your brother in the eye ever again."

Bill laughs. "What happened?"

"Come on, Bill," you whine. "Don't make me say it."

"Oh no. Now I'm even more curious."

Seeing his expectant gaze and his carefree smile, you can't help but cave. "Lets just say that men and women should never be forced into the bathroom together. I mean I know what our bodies are capable of, but we should not have to hear, see or smell another person's business!"

"What?"

"Harry magically bound George and I by the hand for twenty-four hours," you miserably admit. "It was terrible! I had to jinx him several times because he kept trying to persuade me to share a shower with him while I was standing right outside the curtain."

Bill now uproariously laughing, you kick his shin before quickly excusing yourself. Making a quick trip to the bar you place another order of fish n' chips with Rosmerta, as well as a pint of beer for Bill. She tells you that when it's ready she'll levitate it on over and you thank her before heading back to your companion.

He's smirking at you as he eats your food and you have to slap his hand away. "You Weasley's really have no boundaries, do you?"

"Says the girl whose face nearly ended up in my lap as she hid from Potter."

Your face immediately flames and he waggles his eyebrows at you. "Point."

"So, Y/N," he drawls. "How long have you been living next to my mum and dad?"

"A little over a year," you say while wiping grease from your fingers on a napkin. "Your mom was really welcoming the day we moved in. I come from a big family too, only they all stayed back in America save for the day they helped us move, so it was this big spectacle of Weasley's and Y/L/N's introducing themselves to each other and laughing as if we'd known each other for years."

"Well that's good. Mum and dad could use the company now that the Burrow is mostly empty."

"Mhm. And where have you been?" You ask. "Ginny spoke a lot of you, but she wasn't sure where the goblins sent you."

"Egypt," Bill answers with a faint smile. "Got myself divorced and I wanted some fresh air."

"Oh. I'm.. sorry?"

Bill chuckles. "Don't be. It just- it wasn't meant to be. She was infatuated with me for a while and I couldn't really see passed her Veela allure, and then things started to fizzle out on her end. We made each other miserable until we signed divorce papers."

"So it was amicable then?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Thank god," you sigh. "I was starting to feel weird sitting here and having a good time with you."

He quirks an eyebrow at you. "Why's that? It's not like this is a date."

"I know. But I hate to break it 'ya, Weasley, you're hot." His amusement quickly turns to shock and it's your turn to laugh. "I blame the hair. And the ridiculously handsome face you got going on. It's really not fair when you smile."

"But I- I-"

"Hot," you say. Happily eating a bit more of food, you wink as he gapes at you.

It takes his food and beer landing in front of him to snap him out of his stupor, and when he gathers his wits he huffs incredulously. "Blimey, you Americans really are blunt."

"Only sometimes," you shrug. "Right now I'm blaming the mead. It's got my tongue a little loose."

"A little?"

"Shush you."

Bill shakes his head in amusement and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you busy yourselves with eating. But the food only lasts so long and soon enough there's nothing to keep you from not talking.

"So what do you say to dinner?"

Your eyes widen. "What?"

"Dinner," Bill shrugs. "With me. Yes or no?"

"Oh- I, um-"

"It's not a tough decision, Y/N," he muses kindly. "You won't hurt my feelings if the answer is no."

"I just- I'm so confused," you laugh, cheeks pinking. "Dinner as dinner dinner? Or dinner as in date dinner? This isn't like.. a rebound, is it?"

"Merlin, no," he assures you. "My divorce was a little over a year ago. Probably around the time you moved, actually. You're the first bird to catch my attention and hold it."

You blink owlishly at him and once everything registers in your mind, you shake your head clear. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah," you nervously chuckle. "I'll have dinner with you. On one condition."

"Name it."

"When, not if, but when we have sex.. we fuck in your living room after we've forgotten that we've invited Harry over for some made up bullshit." Bill snorts, but you wave him off until you done. "I find that mentally scarring your nemesis in a prank war is the only way to truly win."

"You're going to be trouble, witch."

Smiling evilly, you place your elbow on the table and prop your chin in your hand. "Haven't you ever heard that the best witches are the troublesome ones, Weasley? Trust me, you're in for a ride."

Picking up his pint, he salutes you. "Here's hoping."

[creativeashproductions]

Opposite Direction [Part Three]

Title: Opposite Direction [Part Two]// Teen Wolf and Riverdale

Summary: Escaping a program similar to the Black Widow program you begin a new life in a town where you’re aware isn’t exactly normal. Working in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department places you in the eyes of Stiles but when Black Widow finds you with Captain America will you return the favour to her?

Characters: Reader x Stiles Stilinski , Sheriff Noah Stilinski (mentioned) , Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews, Ms. Grundy (mentioned), Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow), Steve Rogers (Captain America) and Sheriff Keller.

Words: 2665

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel. Nor do I own Riverdale when it does appear. This means I do not own the characters from these shows/movies either.

Warnings: Swearing, injury, past mention of Archie and Grundy.

Requested: @fandomnationwhore

Author: Caitsy

A/N: This is the end of Opposite Direction. I have to say I’m pretty damn proud of this short series. I’ve just moved back to my university so things are about to get hectic. Thank you for all the support you give our blog. We love you. Seriously.

Masterlist

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ASK US A QUESTION LIST

Your eyes landed on the cell you used for your legit job in Beacon Hills to see that you had a message from an unknown person. There were few people that had that number seeing as other than work you didn’t talk to many people. Flipping the phone up in the air to catch as you shoved a piece of food in your mouth you unlocked it.

From: Unknown Hey Y/N, it’s Stiles. Um just wanting to know if your alive? You haven’t messaged my dad or emailed anyone. Your cards haven’t been used and you have no social media so uh…let me know?

From: Pest Stilinski It’s Stiles by the way.

From: Pest Stilinski Wait I said that already.

You rolled your eyes at the pain of boy that obviously didn’t see the wrong in breaking laws to find things out.

To: Pest Stilinski 1. I’m alive even though I don’t see how that concerns you. 2. I’m on leave. Your Dad knows if he needs me to contact me. 3. Did you seriously have to hack my stuff?? You’re a pest.

From: Pest Stilinski Oh thank god! It’s just out of nowhere you decided to leave without a word to me. You should really make a facebook account so I can make sure you’re safe.

To: Pest Stilinski I don’t see why I have to tell you and even if I made an account what makes you think I would send you a follow?

From: Pest Stilinski Friend request.

From: Pest Stilinski You’re thinking of twitter and Instagram. That’s where you follow people and Facebook is send friend requests.

You rolled her eyes placing your phone back on the small desk in the room you were staying in for the last little while. The house was now staged to fit the ‘normal girl’ act you were putting on for the town of Riverdale and if you were honest you had designed it to fit what you would have had if you were an everyday person.

In the week and a half you had been off duty you were itching to do something but following Steve’s orders were the biggest. You needed to prove to them that you weren’t the same person they fought before you faked your death. You could be afflicted with the team for sensitive missions.

“Guess it’s time.” You muttered sliding your arms into the dark denim jacket. You used to wear a leather jacket before it was destroyed and it was pretty cliche.

Everybody has to wear the leather jacket. It’s something that goes hand in hand with fighting and angst ridden people.

You silenced your phone from vibrating as you set out to stake out the suspect in the murder of Jason Blossom. You were pretty sure that one of the serpents had killed him in retribution for his family. FP Jones was the prime suspect with an unidentified accomplice.

“Steve? I’m going after Jones tonight.” You muttered into the phone to leave a message. You had managed to find a way to show Steve it was you. You would call three times quickly before staying on for the fourth time.

“Jones? As in Jughead?”

You blinked stunned that Betty Cooper had managed to successfully sneak up on you. You were rusty.

“No. I meant Jessica Jones.”

“No you didn’t.” Betty retorted with anger, “Either you meant FP or Jughead and I want to know why.”

“I don’t know what your talking about but I hope they chain you up.” You snorted twisting the key to lock the door only to see little knicks on it, “So is it a thing that you break the law often?”

“What are you talking about?” Betty nervously said.

“Trying to break and enter into my home?” You spat, “I think I need to make a call.”

“You can’t prove that it was me.”

“That muddy footprint can and fingerprints help also.”

“Please don’t.” Betty began to plead already seeing colleges react to the criminal record.

“No.” You stated firmly, “I do not let things go like this. Cheating on a test or making fun of a friend is different then violating my privacy.”

You dialled the police on your cell without looking as Betty gulped and looked around for an out to this situation. She had managed to get into your house only to discover the normalcy in it as expected from a new resident. There were boxes still and paint buckets were in the living room. Nothing was out of the norm and it irritated Betty but it seemed her suspicions weren’t true.

“Hi. I’m Adaline Kingsley and I came home to my home being broken into. I’ve only opened the door but it has knicks on the doorknob which is strange because it’s new. There are muddy footprints on the entry way but I haven’t gone in any further. I have the suspect beside me and I won’t let her out of my sight.” You explained to the dispatch.


“There’s an officer on the way.”

You kept your eyes on the girl as the patrol car rolled up flashing their lights to see you and Betty standing on your dilapidated porch. You scanned the new arrival to see that it was Sheriff Keller.

“What seems to be the problem, Ms. Kinglesy?” He questioned climbing up on the porch.

“Betty Cooper here broke into my home.” You stated staring at the girl.

“Is this true Betty?” Sheriff Keller asked shocked.

“Um…yes sir.” Betty sighed.

“Why don’t we go talk to your parents about this Betty. You should know better than to do this.”

“Sorry.” Betty muttered playing with her sleeve. Sheriff Keller gave you a tight smile before walking Betty next door with a stern talking to.

“So how did a teenage girl manage to break into the house?” Steve questioned from behind the door. You jumped again for the second time that night.

“Jesus!”

“You really are rusty.”

“It’s been a long day.” You groaned walking into the house ensuring to avoid the areas of footprints, “You hungry?”

“There’s food on the table. I managed to hid it in the stove and hide before she caught into the kitchen. She’s very determined, would be amazing police officer.” Steve replied turning the faucet to wash his hands off, “How’s the mission going?”

“Well other than Betty i’ve managed to build friendships with the other ones.” You replied setting your jacket on the back of a chair, “It’s shockingly easy to gain trust from them. All I had to do was join the cheerleading team and I became great friends with Veronica.”

“Lodge?”

“Yeah.”

“Nat did some research about this group. Veronica is the daughter of the incarcerated Hiram Lodge and his loyal wife Hermione.” Steve said pushing a file towards you, “Archie’s parents are nearly lawfully divorced, Fred being a construction company owner and Mary being a lawyer in Chicago. Kevin is the son of Sheriff Keller and has more…modernized relationships.”

“He’s gay.”

“So different from my time.” Steve muttered shaking his head, “Okay, Betty has an older sister that was sent away to a home for troubled youth. With some digging we found out that a lot of teen pregnancies are dealt with there. Polly is pregnant with Jason’s child giving Betty’s family motive.”

“Jesus.”

“Jughead Jones, odd name by the way, is the son of Forsythe Pendleton II. Parents are divorced with his mom living in Toledo with their daughter. They call his FP and he’s the leader of the Southside Serpents.”

“Wow. Is this tofu?”

“I needed a change. Wanda said it’s extremely good.” Steve hummed making a face when he tasted it, “But I fail to see the greatness in it.”

“Garbage?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think that FP Jones is the murderer?”

“No. He’s a drunken gang member of a gang that deals low level drugs. I don’t see him actually shooting the gun.”

“Do you think Hydra is involved somehow?”



“That’s the interesting part. I don’t.”

“So I’m free to go back to Beacon Hills.”


“No. I want to stay in the town for the remainder of the month.” Steve said scooping more rice onto his plate with a fury. You were confused at his response before he smiled a little, “I know you didn’t get the typical high school experience.”

“I don’t want that experience.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Have you seen teenagers? They tear into each other emotionally if not physically sometimes. I swear I saw a freshmen girl flip out because seven more people were wearing the same colour.”

“High school is better than taking on an army of Hydra.”

“No.” You furiously shook your head, “Not at all. The only evil in this town so far is the Serpents and this preppy boys murder.”

Steve sat there for another hour as you ate planning out how you would finish out the month and the amount of paper work that was in your future.

“You know as a member of the Vipers I never had to do paperwork.”

Steve gave you a cold look at your words before he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and slid his thick muscles into it. It was kinda like watching a sleeping bag being stuffed into the casing which somehow seemed like it had shrunk? Steve cleared his throat as he gripped the nondescript ball cap in his hand with an awkward smile.

“I’ve never had such a relaxed supper with a female before.” Steve chuckled, “Call if you need anything kid.”

“Take care Steve.” You whispered watching as the only adult concerned about you walked out the back door, “I should get a run in.”

The music was only lightly played into the earphones to lessen the potential hearing loss and keep you able to hear everything around you. It was your favourite time to run with it being dark and lonely outside to keep everyone one. That and every parent in the damn town refused to let their children out once the sun started to go down.

That didn’t stop you from seeing Archie Andrews running in the street with nothing other than his boxers on. Sweaty ones that too.

“Jesus christ.” You wrinkled your nose, “I feel like a fucking criminal. How am I almost the same age? Seriously, he makes me feel like an adult with a toddler in front of me.”

“Adaline!” Archie exclaimed shocked almost stumbling in his bare feet, “What are you doing out so late? It’s not safe.”

“Dude, this is the time I like to run. Besides I don’t have a helicopter parent.” You stated, “Oh and Grundy isn’t home at the moment.”

“W-what?!” Archie screeched almost, “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Uh huh. See you at school.” You grunted. Shaking your head at him.

The next week or two were slow without any action going on. Seriously you were thinking bailing the entire mission before the first bite happened. Firstly it was winter when Grundy fled Riverdale without any prior behaviour indicating she would. Next you saw the Coopers were a little more cocky and with their heads up their asses just a little. Thirdly, Jughead Jones was the son of an incarcerated Serpent being charged with murder.

“Did you hear? Apparently Kevin is dating a Serpent.” Tina whispered to Chloe, another one of the cheerleaders. The entire squad was animated about the gossip.

“They should mind their own business.” Veronica huffed fixing her necklace of pearls again.

“That’s the thing I hate about high school.”

It was odd that you could almost feel that a plot twist was on it’s way in the form of words you overheard between Kevin and his boyfriend. There was a jump drive hidden away in a jacket in the woods and you were betting that the Riverdale Crime Fighters would be getting their quick.

“Alright Natasha. How do you want me to do this?” You urgently whispered into the earpiece resting in your ear.

“Didn’t you do this?”

“Yeah but after we did the item was destroyed via viruses.”

“Remember how you found the jump drive before you insert into the right side of the tablet. It’s the one that won’t show any detection of use on the item. It will take a few minutes so be patient and vigilant.” Natasha calmly said.

“Okay. I’m just waiting for the-“

“This is it guys.” The familiar voice of Veronica said echoing through the woods.

“Shit.” You grumbled rushing to finish the program.

“Wait. There’s a light near the jacket.” Betty hissed dropping low into the grass, “Someone’s here and I think I know who it is.”

“A maniac with a gun?” Jughead retorted, “Seriously we should get out of the woods.”

“No.” Betty said quickly.

You returned the jump drive back into the hole at the bottom of the pocket before slinking off out of the area. You knew they had seen a sliver of you and would immediately peg you as the person. That’s why you returned to your car before watching the short clip depicting something you wouldn’t have expected.

Jason Blossom was murdered by his own father before FP cleaned the mess up and went on to hold a secret.

“Damn.” You grunted forwarding the intel to Steve and Nat before driving off to the one place you needed.

The Sheriff’s office.

“I already know what’s on this.” Sheriff Keller said tucking the jump drive into the evidence bag and out of sight, “I would like to know how I’ve managed to get two jumpdrives the same night.”

“What do you-“ Veronica began.

“Adaline Kingsley.” Betty breathed shocked.

“She’s actually Y/N Y/L/N.” Sheriff explained moving a sheet up on the desk.

Dear Sheriff Keller,

My name is Y/N Y/L/N but you would know me as the high school student Adaline Kingsley living on her own. I’m not a criminal, anymore actually, as I was recruited by Steve Rogers to find out in Jason Blossom was killed by Hydra. It came to our knowledge soon that it wasn’t but by the time I was being released from the mission I found out about the jump drive. I’m sure somehow Betty Cooper will get her hands on this but I plead with you to leave my name out of everything. I was part of a bad group before I faked my death. I wouldn’t even be telling you this if it was a month before now but Steve’s made me to do this thing where I own up for my actions. This is me doing so. The number I gave you Sheriff is if you ever need my help. For free. Take care Riverdale teens because the storm’s only just beginning.

Steve’s number to corroborate my information: (xxx)-xxx-xxxx

Sincerely,

Y/N Y/L/N.

“That’s a plot twist I didn’t expect.” Jughead muttered gripping Betty’s hand in his, “It’s so obvious though.”

You felt at home sitting back in front of your desktop computer with a file opened concerning a teen that had burglarized a house last night. Beacon Hills hadn’t had any action in the time you had been gone but you were sure that Stiles had calmed down on his advances. Too bad because he was growing on you not to mention your short high school experience had shown that he was a lot more mature than you remembered.

“Hey.” Stiles said beside your desk, “Dad wanted me to give you this.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at the man before taking the envelope with Riverdale stamped in the return address.

“So would you like to get a coffee? Talk about how you know about Scott?”

“Sure but how about dinner?”

“li…like a date?” Stiles gulped shocked.

“Yeah. A date Stiles.” You smiled at the blushing guy in front of you, “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Hell yes!”

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[sinfulfolk]

On Writing: Realistic Magic in Tim Powers & John Bellairs

LAST CALL and HOUSE WITH THE CLOCK IN ITS WALLS Tim Powers and John Bellairs

Published on John Bellairs Birthday – January 17, 1938!

In my spies+sorcery novel Wilderness of Mirrors, I’m trying to write a grounded fantasy that builds on known facts about the Cold War, the War on Terror, 9/11 and the WTC. I am attempting to construct a fantasy that feels as intricate and realistic as the spy novels of John Le Carré. I think I can write a pretty good spy plot, with gun battles, secrets passed in the dark, cryptographic codes to be broken, etc.  The tricky part of the novel for me is writing the “fantasy” part, as to this point in my writerly life, I’ve written “straight” contemporary or historical fiction. I also have no desire to craft a world utterly divorced from our reality – a la J.K. Rowling, Tolkien or George R.R. Martin. Instead, I’d like to take the curtain that lies over some 9/11 related events, and simply lift it a little bit, to reveal the edge of “sorcery” behind the scenes. I want any “fantastic” elements to feel as if they are genuine to our reality, and could exist if only someone looked closely enough. So I am looking for models of how to do this effectively.

One model can be found in Tim Powers’s Last Call, a book I re-read and marked up in detail this month, specifically because I was in search of his technique of how he did magic+history in a believable way. Powers is the winner of the World Fantasy Award, and one reason that his books stand out from the general glut of fantastic fiction is that he does deep research into history, language and historical style. He also occasionally includes actual historical figures in his fantasy, but carefully written in such a way that they appear quite realistic and grounded in the period. For example, one of his historical fantasy masterworks is The Stress of Her Regard, in which Mary Shelley, Lord Byron and other poetic notables of the period are primary characters. The novel Last Call is only peripherally about the history of the gangster Bugsy Siegel and the founding of Las Vegas. Instead, it is mostly about a seemingly vagabond poker player who finds his lost step-father and has to undertake a bizarre quest back to Las Vegas, where he was abandoned as a child.

En route to Las Vegas, Scott (the vagabond), a friend, and Ozzie (the step-father) are pursued by persons unknown. They find a way to evade them, and this is where the magic enters in for the first time in the book. This is the scene I was interested in, because I found the scene very believable, but it violates every natural law I know about. I didn’t have any suspension of disbelief, because my disbelief was accounted for in the scene. Here’s the scene in a nutshell: Ozzie without much notice stops the car and asks Scott and his friend glue plastic deer whistles all over their vehicle, and put playing cards on every other surface, including the wheels. Then they have to prick their fingers and put blood spots on flags and stick the spotted flags out the window. Ozzie doesn’t even tell them what it is for, or why they are doing this. The car is a bizarre sight, and the characters share the reader’s laughter at such strange instructions.

Ozzie doesn’t explain at all what is happening, which heightens the suspense. Ozzie keeps his cards close to his chest, and instead just tells them to do these bizarre things. They follow his instructions with suspicion and hilarity (which nicely mirrors the reader’s disbelief that any of this will work). Because some of the characters share our readerly disbelief in such evident quackery, when it all does work, that fact lands on us as readers with a redoubled gravity. This makes us believe in Ozzie and in the story.  Only after the scene is over, does Ozzie explain that they escaped because of these factors:

Those little plastic deer whistles [you two attached all over the car] make a complication of ultrasonic sound waves, all interfering and amplifying and damping each other, and the blood-spotted flags are a lot of organic motion… And then the main thing is the [plethora of playing] cards on the wheels, which are whizzing past the playing cards on the fenders, so…. You get a dozen new combinations of cards…. At a hasty glance, a psychic would tend to assume that there are a lot of people traveling in one vehicle (Powers 169).

As I thought more deeply about the scene, that sleight of hand in terms of withholding of knowledge really worked for me as a reader. It also was true to the sense of the story, and the concealment of fantastic elements, which is part of the plot. Why would a skilled magician or one knowledgeable in magical evasion share any of their secrets with either the reader or the other characters? If Ozzie had led with an explanation, then the “magic” of it working would have disappeared.

I experimented with re-writing the scene, and I quickly found that the best sequence was just as Powers wrote it: 1) Ozzie communicated his bizarre instructions, 2) the characters’ showed disbelief and 3) that in the end it worked, and was 4) afterwards explained later. Since Ozzie was acting in a matter of fact way in doing certain very specific activities – without explaining them – it also makes it evident that he knows precisely what he is doing (even if we don’t know), and it makes it more possible for readers to believe in his activities later on. His behavior is grounded in human reality. We don’t all go about like Hermione in Harry Potter, explaining the magic as we go along. Not explaining it makes it more magical. Withholding the explanation until later is a great plot move.

I was also struck by a similar set of bizarre instructions that have real-world grounding in John Bellairs’s classic children’s horror novel The House with the Clock in its Walls. This scene occurs in the penultimate chapter which constitutes the “final showdown.” In this scene, the three main characters – orphan Lewis Barnavelt, Uncle Jonathan and Mrs. Zimmerman – know that they are under threat and must try to discover and battle the plans of an “evil magician.” In the hands of many writers, this scene would be formulaic. The trio would engage in detective work (either through magic or via standard deduction), and then would prepare themselves for a magical battle that would involve wands, spouts of green fire and magical creatures. (One can easily imagine a J.K. Rowling magical scene like this).

However, what Bellairs does with the scene is interesting. To this point in the novel, our protagonist Lewis has established himself as a little peculiar, nerdy and unusually inventive for a 13 year old. His Uncle Jonathan is equally zany – if not more so – and is extremely disorganized. Bellairs emphasizes character over magical happenings, and makes us believe even more deeply in his world when he has Uncle Jonathan articulate how these characters have functioned throughout the novel:

We’re no good at that [logical] game. Our game is wild swoops, sudden inexplicable discovers, cloudy thinking…. Lewis, what I want you to do is this. Get a pencil and paper and dream up the silliest set of instructions you can think of. (Bellairs 158)

What follows the instructions written by Lewis is an extremely silly card game and wacky “game” that culminates in finding the “Ace of Nitwits” and the magical object that threatens them. The instructions created by Lewis is very random magic as conceived by a crazy 13 year old, and it foregrounds Lewis without giving him any special abilities. In fact, his lack of special abilities and his zany wit is what makes this chapter fun, and believable. Without Lewis being firmly established as liking these kinds of strange puzzles, the scene would never work: but with that established from chapter one, this action follows so naturally that I cannot now conceive of any other way of finishing the book. In the end, character matters more than special effects to Bellairs.

To sum up my findings on these two magical scenes, I think that two keys to writing “believable” and “grounded” fantasy that seems to be occurring in our reality are as follows: 1) Do not explain what is happening. Provide characters with specific actions that are highly specific and that they believe are “necessary” to cause the effect they want to cause. If the actions are suspect, have other characters voice that suspicion, so the reader’s perspective is embraced. Explain later, and perhaps not even then. 2) Focus on the characters and what they would naturally do. Do not insert magical behavior that does not fit the characters, their motivations, and their behavior to date.

As an addendum to my findings, I’d like to re-emphasize character. If the characters are utterly believable, and the “magic” is utterly believable to the characters themselves, it makes it easier for the reader to believe as well. Writing a fantastic scene should be an outgrowth of a character’s thought process and character development up until that point in the novel, rather than a deus ex machina that just appears or intrudes into the narrative. Writing “realistic” magic is tough, but can be done if one focuses on the basics of realistic human behavior, careful structure in scene dynamics and consistent character motivation as our guiding principles.

A literary update from NedNote.com Readers can find my books at these bookstores:

Works Cited

Bellairs, John. The House with the Clock In Its Walls. New York: Puffin Books, 1973.

Powers, Tim. Last Call. New York: Avon Books, 1992.

On Writing: Realistic Magic in Tim Powers & John Bellairs was originally published on Ned Hayes

[tricksters-captain]

FP Jones/Andrews Family/Riverdale imagines - Oh Dear Part 6

AN: I think y’all are gonna enjoy this and the next few chapters cause what I’ve got planned is worth the wait. 

(Part One) (Part Two)(Part Three)(Part Four)(Part Five)

Overall Summary: You’re Archie’s old sister and you have a thing for a certain serpent

Pairing: Reader x FP Jones, Sister!Reader x Archie Andrews, Daughter!Reader x Fred Andrews

Word count: 3,956

Warnings: Well, FP is clearly older than the reader in this fic, underage drinking, 

You hadn't seen FP for a little while after that day. It’d been a little under a week and you hadn't heard much from him. You weren’t that surprised, he was a serpent, he worked and you were busy with school, what did you really expect?

“Hey, I need to talk to your brother and you downstairs.” Your dad peaked his head into your room as you were packing for school. You inwardly groaned but followed him out the room.

You and Archie made brief eye contact as you headed out to the front porch with your dad. You knew this wasn’t going to be good considering he was heading out to Chicago for a few days to see your mom.

“What’s this about?” Archie sat down beside your father and you leant against the porch banister opposite them both.

“As you know I’m going over to see your mom about the divorce and I’ll be gone a couple days but this is the last time and the good news is all these divorce papers and legal mumbo jumbo will be done. It should be behind us by the end of the week.” Fred started to explain what was going to be going on over the next couple days when Archie decided to pop the unanswered question.

“Are you only going to see Mom now because you and Hermione Lodge…?”

“No. No, son, I ended that. Just being together, working together, not a good idea.” Fred shut down that idea quickly, you must admit you were also curious to see if that was the reason your dad was finally going.

“In that case, why finalise things in such a final way now?” Archie asked,

“Sometimes you just gotta rip the band-aid off.” Fred shrugged his shoulders, rising to make his way to the truck.

“Or you can try and fix things?” Archie was quick to his feet to follow your dad to his truck.

“Archie…” You interrupted to try and stop all the questions. You could see he was trying to convince your dad to rethink this.

Your parents haven't been together for two years and he expects that sometime in the future they’ll just jump back into bed with each other? 

It doesn't work like that.

“What?” Archie rose his hands in his defence.

“It’s okay, (Y/n). Look, Archie, we’re past that point.” Fred sighed, stopping in his step.

“I spoke to Mom last week. She didn't mention any of this.” Archie argued his case, you just rolled your eyes, you couldn’t even remember the last time you spoke to your Mom. You two didn't have the best relationship after she walked out on Dad.

“Your Mom moved out two years ago. She didn’t tell you because she wanted me to be the bearer of bad news.” Fred told Archie,

“What if I came with you?” Archie suggested, jumping towards your dad.

“Archie, there’s no way––“ Your dad interrupted you before you could say anymore.

“This is between me and your mom. I’ll check in. Oh, and (Y/n), there’s some paperwork on the kitchen side, could you possibly take those to the site for me this afternoon, I’m running late as it is.”” Your dad turned and clambered into his truck. 

“Yeah, sure.” You waved him off as the truck pulled away.

“What is wrong with you?” Archie span round, confronting you.

“What is wrong, Archie? The fact that Mom left us because she wasn’t happy here. You can’t force someone to love someone else, Archie. Even you know that. ” You threw your arm up towards Betty Cooper’s house. 

“Hey, that is different. Mom and Dad are married.” Archie argued,

“No, they're not! They’re getting a divorce and we can’t stop that. You can’t stop that. Quit trying to bring this family back together.” You left on that note, storming up the stairs to escape the stubborn teenage boy. 

Once in your room, you found yourself staring at your phone. You just wanted to see it light up with the name you were always expecting. 

You waited a minute or so before you heard Archie call upstairs telling you that you’re gonna be late if you didn't hurry up.

You growled out of frustration and swiped up your phone and bag then headed down to the car to which Jughead and Archie were waiting.

You were distracted all day by your phone. The fact that it was as silent as the dead all day actually bothered you for once. All you wanted was one call. 

At the end of the school day, you did what your father asked and took the files from the kitchen to the construction site. 

You were surprised to see Betty leaving the site when you drove in, unless Archie was here you didn't really know why she would be...

You pulled up and left your seat, taking the files to the trailer and completely forgetting that FP was in charge of the site whilst your dad was out of town. 

You opened the door, dumping the files on the closet desk and as you went to turn to leave that’s when you realised the trailer wasn’t empty. 

“It’s good to see you too.” FP spoke up being lightly sarcastic, and startling you. 

“Jesus, FP! I didn't realise you were in here.” You tried to laugh it off as you looked over at the man from across the trailer, smiling at him. You almost forgot how much you liked seeing him in person, screw the awaited phone calls. 

“Yeah, your old man left me in charge.” FP sauntered towards you, a small smirk on his lips. You subconsciously nibbled on your lower lip, your eyes running over the man’s body as he made his way towards you. 

There was a small pause when he stopped, he was watching you watch him and if he was being honest he found it quite amusing. 

“So, I just saw Betty Cooper leave, what was she doing here?” You suddenly snapped up, realising you had to make conversation instead of just stare at the man. 

“She came by to see if I could stop by yours tomorrow for Jughead’s birthday.” FP told you, your heart jumped at that idea. 

“So are you?” You asked, digging your hands into your pants pockets. 

“I might make an appearance, I’m not sure yet.” FP shrugged his shoulders which made you smile and shake your head. 

“You really should, you know. I think he’d appreciate it if you just stopped by and said hey.” You encouraged the idea for more selfish reasons than the one you gave,

“You just don't quit.” FP chuckled, 

“Please?” You pleaded, sending the sweetest smile you could. 

FP’s eyes lingered on your face for a few seconds...

“Fine.” He rose his hands up, finally giving in. 

Your smile grew and you lurched forward, flinging your arms around FP’s shoulders. FP laughed as you hit him with an umph. He held onto you with one arm and rolled his eyes at your overexcitement. 

You pulled back, clearing your throat as you realised how eager you just were. 

“Sorry... uh, so, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” You leant against the desk behind you, putting some space between the two of you, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. 

“See you tomorrow.” FP nodded, confirming your plans. 

You then left the site with a little plan stirring inside your little head. 

The next morning, you woke the boys up with bacon and pancakes, it was something you usually made your dad for his birthday and seeing you didn’t exactly know what Jughead liked, you figured it would do. 

“What’s this?” Jughead asked as the two teenaged boys entered the kitchen. 

“Happy Birthday, Jug.” You handed the boy a small brown paper wrapped box, you knew he didn’t like his birthday all that much so you figured a simplistic gift would suffice. 

“Thanks...” He hesitated to take the box but you practically forced it into his hand. 

“I know you don't like to acknowledge your birthday, Jug, so just think of this as a day I just decided to make pancakes and bacon.” You served up the food onto the plates and Archie, being the pig boy he was, dug straight in. 

Jughead unwrapped his present and smiled ever so slightly, it was a new pair of  ear buds which wasn’t much but you could tell he appreciated the gesture. 

You munched on the food you along with the boys before you had to head over to school. 

You knew that Archie and Betty were planning on a surprise party for Jughead and you also knew that Betty wanted to be as lame as she could by putting up decorations so you excused yourself (not without a fight from Cheryl) from the Vixen’s cheer practice that afternoon to go home and get a start.  

“Is this too much?” Archie asked, gesturing to the streamers he had put up. 

“No, it really captures that five year old party vibe, Jug’s gonna love it.” you teased your younger brother. Archie rolled his eyes at you, he looked just about done with the world. “Arch, what’s up?” You asked, realising that his annoyance wasn’t because of your snarky comment.

“Nothing, don't worry about it.” Archie left the room and you found him by the liquor cabinet. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you frowned at the boy. 

You watched him pull out a bottle of whiskey and contemplate whether he wants to open it. You took the bottle from him and cracked it open. 

“We might as well start early. It’s been a tough week.” You rose the bottle before downing a few mouthfuls of the stuff. Each gulp scorching your throat. 

You placed the bottle down, spluttering out coughing and Archie laughed at your attempt to chug whiskey. 

“I’m going to get ready, finish up around here.” You said, your voice raspy from the drink which only made Archie laugh harder. 

Archie may not like to talk about his dilemmas with anyone but your dad but at least you got him to smile. 

You grabbed a bottle of water and headed upstairs to get changed. 

By the time you returned downstairs, everyone except for Betty, Jughead and FP had arrived.

Archie rose his eyebrows at your attire. It wasn’t something you would usually wear considering you were a pants kind of girl but you still looked amazing.

“They’re really coming this time. Everybody hide.” Ethel, whom was stood by the window, warned you all. 

You tucked yourself around the corner and waited for the door to open. 

“I can't believe you were scared, that’s funny to me.” You heard Jughead tell Betty, then when the lights were hit on, you all came out from your hiding spaces yelling ‘surprise’!

“This is why we left the double feature.” Jughead muttered as Betty slid under his arm. 

“Happy birthday, bro.” Archie pulled Jug in for a hug. 

“Hey, you really shouldn't have.” Jughead grumbled, hugging Archie back. He didn’t look impressed, you weren’t surprised, if there was anything that you and Jughead shared it was your hatred of parties.

Next, Veronica wished Jug a happy birthday, and so did Kevin and then he introduced Joaquin to whom you had seen before at the trailer park. 

“Has anyone seen Betty?” Jughead asked, realising she had disappeared. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Jughead, happy birthday to you” Betty sang as she reentered with Jughead’s birthday cake. She pressed her pink painted lips against Jughead’s cheek and Jughead made his wish. 

You all seemed to disperse after that. Veronica and Archie in the kitchen, followed by Betty and Jughead and that left you with Ethel, Kevin and Joaquin. 

“So, Joaquin, you’re a Serpent?” You asked as casually as you could. You were curious as to why he was at FP’s trailer the other day and what he was to FP besides a fellow member of the serpents. 

“Um, well, yeah.” He chuckled awkwardly, bringing his cup to his lips.

You went to interrogate the boy some more when the doorbell went. 

You went into the hallway to open it, meeting the others at the middle, when Cheryl opened the door, and behind her were the masses. 

“Did you really think you could have a party without inviting moi?” She asked through her thick overly bright red lips. 

“Or me?” Chuck appeared behind her and a chill ran down your spine. The same Chuck that sexually harassed girls and one time was even close to adding you to the vile, degrading list of ‘conquests’ however you managed to save yourself before messing around with someone like him. 

“Archie, where do you want the kegs?” One of the guys from the football team asked your brother.

You didnt know what you were thinking when you thought that Archie may kick all these people out but of course he didn’t.

“Screw it. One in the kitchen, one in the backyard!” Archie beckoned the whole school into your house and you fled to an emptier part of it to avoid the stampede. 

If your dad found out about this, you were going to be the one in trouble considering you’re the oldest. 

“Please God, can nothing bad happen tonight.” You prayed, staring up at the ceiling. 

Within minutes the house was filled with music, hot, sweaty teenagers and alcoholic beverages. 

As mentioned before, you hated parties, you had avoided all parties all through high school because they were all the same and all ended in trouble. You spent the first half hour of the non-escapable party wandering around the house, picking up drinks anywhere you could to calm your anxiety about the whole situation and yelling at anyone who may look like they were gonna break something.

Nearing the first hour of the party, you were fumbling around the house, you had removed your shoes and were holding your hair up slightly to avoid any sweat due to the heat radiating off of the close proximity of everyone. 

You weren’t even looking where you were going when you crashed into a rock solid chest of someone. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You muttered as you stumbled back, the person you crashed into grabbed hold of your wrists to steady you on your feet. 

You looked up to see it was FP.

“You alright?” FP asked, searching your face to see how drunk you were. 

“Yeah, hi, I’m fine.” You shook your head, clearing the lump that was forming in your throat as you stared up at the man. 

He came. 

FP took your plastic cup and placed it on a table far away from you and then grabbed your arms again as you began to sway. 

“How much have you had to drink?” He asked, you shrugged your shoulders and shook your head. FP sighed, his eyes rolled over your outfit and he smiled ever so slightly. “Come on.” He took you towards the kitchen but stopped in the doorway. “Go get some water.” He leant down and said into your ear as he pointed towards the tap. You did as you were told. 

“Mmm-mmm-mmm.” FP leant against the door frame, he hummed as Kevin and Joaquin were getting hot and heavy, making out on the kitchen counter. “You could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife.” FP teased the two. “What’s up Joaquin?” 

“Nothing. Kevin, you know FP, Jughead’s dad.” Joaquin introduced Kevin to FP whilst you watched them from the other side of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, we met. Kicked me out of the Whyte Wyrm.” Kevin reminded Joaquin.

“Good times. Joaquin, you wanna show me where the can is?” FP asked, and Joaquin of course did so. 

“What is he doing here?” Kevin asked you as you sipped on your water. 

“Betty invited him.” You mumbled just before you took another mouthful. You saw Veronica watch the two men walk upstairs and Kevin was soon by her side. You decided to avoid that conversation and avoid anything else by sneaking out the backdoor. 

Somehow during the time you left the kitchen and sat down on the back porch, your water had transformed itself into alcohol again. 

You held your head in your hand as it span and inhaled the cool fall air, you thought the music inside was far too loud and the handful of people that were outside with you were also adding to your headache. 

When FP reemerged, he started to get worried as he didn’t know where you were. He didn’t expect you to be the kind of girl to hook up with just anyone at a party like this but he’d be lying if the idea didn’t circle his head. 

He spent a while searching the house for you before he found you hidden away outside. A wave of relief hit him when he saw that you were alone. 

“I hate parties.” You whispered as you looked back at the man who had just opened the back door. 

FP chuckled and offered his hand to help you up. You gladly took it and he pulled you to your feet. 

You closed your eyes as a feeling of nausea washed over you and FP took hold of your face with his hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

“You alright?” He asked, bending his knees a little to be level with your head. You nodded, opening your eyes to meet his. The nausea passed. Then FP guided you inside. 

“Joaquin, keep an eye on her.” FP asked his trusted fellow Serpent while you got yourself a new glass of water. 

You leant against the sink with Joaquin and FP when a very unhappy looking Jughead entered. 

“Oh, you didn’t have a piece of cake, it’s bad luck.” Ethel offered Jughead a plate to which he immediately declined. 

“No, this whole night is bad luck. I’m ghosting. I’ll see you at school.” Jughead attempted to leave but was stopped at front door. 

“Listen up, party people!” You heard Cheryl’s voice call everyone to attention and you suddenly felt yourself sober up. You shared a look with FP. 

“This isn't gonna be good.” You felt your mouth go dry as Cheryl summoned everyone into the living room. 

“The game is called secrets and sins.” Cheryl said as she strutted around the room to where she had gathered the entire party. 

“What the hell is Secrets and Sins?” Jughead asked, seeming already completely done with it. 

“It's a variation on Truth or Dare. In which we own our truths. By telling it like it is. I'll start the game with Veronica Lodge.” 

“Naturally.” Veronica glared at Cheryl as she was singled out.

“Let's begin with the day you and your mob wife of a mother came to town for a so-called a fresh start. Tell us, Veronica, what's so fresh about defiling Archie Andrews in a closet?” Cheryl asked, well, rather attacked Veronica. 

“That was your doing.” Veronica reminded her. 

“Moving on, to dear Daddy Lodge. Isn't it true that your father, from prison, illegally purchased the drive-in land? Which makes me wonder. What else is he doing from behind bars?” Cheryl decided to go there and reveal that. 

“Well, I can't speak for my father, but I can think of someone with a very dirty secret. Specifically, Cheryl killing her very own brother.”Veronica retaliated. 

“Everyone knows how much I loved my brother.” Cheryl tried to defend herself,

“Exactly, but did you love him maybe in ways that a sister shouldn't love a brother? And as you got older, Jason started to think it was strange, unnatural. So he chose Polly over you. So you shot him between the eyes with one of your father's many hunting rifles.” Veronica then accused Cheryl of twincest. Things were getting way too out of hand. You looked up at FP, who was stood beside you and Joaquin, he was just watching the scene go on. 

“This game is sick. I wanna go next.” Dilton piped up, 

“That's the spirit, Doiley. What secrets do you have to reveal to us?” Chuck encouraged the weird boy, 

“I saw Ms. Grundy's car by Sweetwater River, the day Jason went missing. I told Betty and Jughead, and then, Ms. Grundy quit her job and left Riverdale, like, two days later. And let's not forget that Archie was also at the Sweetwater that morning.” Dilton confessed. You felt your stomach twist at the mention of Ms. Grundy. You Andrew kids were really into the older kinds, weren't you?

“Oh, my God, color me shocked, Archie Andrews. Is that why you became a mediocre musician overnight? Because you and Ms. Foureyes were pulling a Mary Kay Letourneau?” Cheryl held a look of almost disbelief as she continued to catechise. 

“Don't say anything, Archie. Don't get in the gutter with them.” Veronica shot daggers at the redhead with her eyes, you fidgeted uncomfortably and FP noticed. 

“Wait, what? Andrews was banging a teacher? Well, damn, I wish I would have known. I would've added you and Ms. Grundy to the board of conquests.” Chuck smirked in the sickly perverted kind of way. 

“Classy, Chuck, as always.” Veronica grimaced, 

“Wait a second, that also explains why Archie can't seem to keep a girlfriend to save his life. He's got serious Mommy issues.  Anything to say for yourself, Arch? Were you victim or perpetrator?” Cheryl cocked her head at Archie, she looked like she was enjoying this mental torture. 

You went to go step forward to end things but you felt FP discretely grasp hold of your upper arm, he shook his head subtly to stop you interfering for the moment but you decided if you couldn’t end it, you couldn’t watch anymore. 

“Dilton Doiley plays with guns.” Betty tried her hardest to switch the topic of conversation as you snuck your way back into the kitchen to leave through the backdoor. 

You felt your feet take you away from the house and you soon found yourself walking down the street and across the block to avoid what mess was going inside your house. 

FP was heading back to the south side after the disastrous night. After breaking up the party, he had assumed you went up to your room and slept the alcohol off but as he drove along he caught eye of something very familiar, he realised you were nowhere near home. 

You had been walking for a short while now. Your head was a mess, your make up smudged and you didn’t care where you were going just as long as it was away from everyone. 

You heard a roll of wheels and the squeak of breaks as a truck pulled up beside you. 

“Get in.” FP leant over and opened the truck door. 

At first, you hesitated, you didn’t know why, perhaps it was because you looked and felt like a mess but you did end up climbing into his truck. 

FP started moving again, he looked over in your direction briefly to make sure you were okay but you just seemed overly tired and the buzz of the booze seemed to be wearing off. 

You yawned and stretched out, tonight had a failure on all levels and you were ready to sleep it away.  

You carefully scooted across the leather seats and buried yourself into FP’s side, curling up beside him with your eyes closed and his familiar smell flooding your nose. 

FP squeezed your shoulder with his hand and continued on his route home. 

He thought you’d be safer there with the state you were in. 

(Part 7)

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[dralentines-day]

Gift #22, @moonshoespotterr

You better put on your moon shoes for this one. This gift is out of this world! Happy Dralentine’s, @moonshoespotterr ! 

Our gifter says:

“Happy Dralentine's day! I hope you enjoy my gift to you, and I hope your day is absolutely lovely! xoxo”

Blind Wait - Two failed blind dates result in something much better. 3k. 

Tags: no smut

10th February, 2004 — 8:00 p.m.

 Narcissa Malfoy knew what was best for her son, even if he didn't believe it.

 It was their most common argument: Draco, at the ripe old age of 23, was still single. Narcissa, at the tender age of 48, was of the belief she should be a grandmother in a few years’ time. Draco was homosexual, and had no interest in marrying and procreating with a woman. Narcissa accepted and loved her son, and would never view any children he adopted as anything other than family. Draco didn't know any other gay wizards. Narcissa didn't think it likely that he would meet any, since he left their home only to go to work. Back and forth, every few weeks they found they found themselves squabbling under a thin veneer of politeness. Holidays always found the argument coming up more often, and with Valentine's day fast approaching the two Malfoys found themselves losing patience with one another.

 That Tuesday night found Draco reading the day's news in his favorite chair by the fire, a generous portion of wine in his free hand. Narcissa was out, presumably with her social club of other middle-aged rich women with a surplus of free time, and he was enjoying the moment of peace and quiet. He worked as an apprentice under Mr. Mullpepper, the apothecary who ran a shop in Diagon Alley, and his workday had been chaotic. The elderly potioneer couldn't quite handle the shop any longer, and relied on Draco to do most of the upkeep and customer service. Draco didn't usually mind; it was nice to not live under someone's constant supervision. Today, however, had seen a random influx of customers, and he hadn't had the opportunity to sit down, eat, or even think all day. He sighed and further settled into his chair, content to read all about whatever the airheads at the Prophet considered newsworthy.

 As he turned to read the society pages (Celestina Warbeck had apparently just tied the knot with husband number eight) the fireplace flared bright green and his mother stepped daintily over the grate. Before he could look up at her, she planted a large kiss onto his forehead.

 “Good evening, mother.” He folded his paper up and set it and his glass of wine aside. “Did you enjoy your day with the ladies?”

 Narcissa beamed at her son. “Indeed. I have wonderful news. I've found him.”

 Draco's eyebrows flew up. “You've found him? Who is ‘him’, exactly?”

 “The second father of my future grandchildren,” Draco groaned even as she spoke. “He's a nephew of one of the ladies who join us for bridge. Tall, dark, handsome, terribly charming, wealthy, he's the total package dear!”

 “Mother, must you meddle? I can find a partner on my own.”

 “Oh? Have unsolicited suitors begun calling here? I hadn't realized.” She clapped her hands twice and a House-Elf appeared seconds later with a glass of port wine. She took the drink, and the elf disappeared with a bow. “Honestly, my dear, he's really a lovely young man. You must give him a chance. What harm could it be?”

 Draco sighed and studied his mother carefully, weighing his options. If he simply agreed to meet this person, his mother would be delighted and he'd never hear the end of it. Worse still, if they didn't hit it off, she would take this as permission to continue to search for a match for him. On the other hand, if he flat-out refused, his mother would be annoyed and he'd never hear the end of it… and truthfully Draco really did not mind the notion of having a boyfriend. He found most people tiresome, and many still loathed his family for their part in the war, so all of his feeble attempts at dating had ended in disaster.

 Plus, even he could admit his social life lately was non-existent. Almost all of his friends were married with children, and the few who weren't were either abroad or in prison.

 He pinched the bridge of his nose before replying. “All right, mother, I'll make a bargain with you. I'll meet this gentleman of yours,” she gasped with delight but he soldiered on “however, I don't want to hear of this again until at least Christmas. Do we have a deal?”

 Narcissa kissed him on the forehead again, spilling wine into the carpet in her excitement. “Oh, yes my darling! You'll see, you won't regret this! You have a blind date with him this Saturday at seven o’clock.”

 He was immediately annoyed. “Mother! You went ahead and made plans for me behind my back?”

 “I was confident that you'd agree.” She replied smugly, sipping her wine.

 He sighed again. Tricks like these were commonplace with his mother, so being cross over them wasn't useful. “All right then, what's his name?”

 “If I told you, it wouldn't be a blind date, would it?”

 “But he knows my name!”

 “Yes, that's about the sum of it. He'll be wearing a red hat.” She scrutinized his face and laughed. “Oh, don't pout, sweetheart. It'll be fun!”

 14th February, 2004 — 6:45 p.m.

 Narcissa had given Draco the address of a very posh bistro in London. It was in a muggle neighborhood but, judging by the way the muggles looked right past it, it appeared to be wizard-owned. The Siren's Song, the black sign read in simple white lettering. Inside the walls were white bricks and the decor was black, clean, and minimal. There were twenty or so small tables, each with a single red rose as a centerpiece. Nearly all of the tables were occupied by couples. Draco scanned the room for anyone wearing a red hat. While he did not see anyone fitting that description, (not a problem, he had arrived early after all) he did notice Harry Potter sitting by himself at the end of the bar.

 A hostess made her way over to him, but he waved her off, making his way to the bar as well. Potter’s eyes met his, and they nodded to one another. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Potter recently. Potter came by the Apothecary regularly for potion ingredients. He often made sure to stop and make small talk with Draco whenever he stopped in; he asked about his mother, chatted about the news of the day, brought up what restaurants had opened up nearby and whether they were any good, things like that. In fact, he had seen Potter exactly twenty days prior, and knew that he'd most likely be in any day now for more supplies.

 He didn't care to examine why he was so keenly aware of how often he saw the other man.

 He ordered himself a drink and adjusted in his seat, so that he would see the man in the red hat when he came in. After fifteen minutes, the ice in his drink had melted and he assumed his date was running late. After twenty five minutes, he had finished his drink and began to grow annoyed. After thirty minutes, he was reaching into his robes for his coin purse to pay for his drink so he could leave and stew in his embarrassment at home when a warm hand suddenly lay on his shoulder.

 “Could I get two gigglewaters please?” Potter had come over beside him and was smiling at the barkeep. He looked down at Draco. “I think I've just been stood up, would you mind terribly keeping me company until your date arrives? It's less embarrassing this way.”

 Draco sensed that Potter was perhaps not speaking only for himself, but he didn't comment on it. He merely nodded and turned his back to door. If the man with the red hat came in now, he'd find Draco getting chummy with Harry Goddamn Potter, and then wouldn't he be embarrassed!

 The barkeep returned with the drinks, and Potter slid one over to him. He took it and toasted the other man before downing it in one gulp. Though he still felt annoyed and embarrassed, his face immediately split into a grin. He was privately thankful then that he wasn't a muggle, and therefore didn't burst into laughter. A few more would – of course – get him to that point, but he didn't want to look like a lightweight. Potter nodded to the barkeep and their glasses immediately refilled. Wanting to keep his composure, Draco took one delicate sip and set the glass aside. He turned again to face Potter, resting his arm on the bar.

 “So what brings the famous Harry Potter to a place like this, tonight of all nights?” he asked. “Back at Hogwarts, I thought for certain you'd be married to Ginny Weasley by now.”

 Potter chuckled. “Honestly, back at Hogwarts I thought the same thing. Luckily, I worked out that I'd rather shag blokes before it ever got to that. I imagine a divorce is a lot messier than splitting with a girlfriend.” He laughed again at the look of surprise on Draco's face. “I know, I know. Hermione was apparently unsurprised, but she was the only one. I've been more or less ‘out’ for a few years now. As for why I'm here… same reason as you, I suppose. I was supposed to meet some fellow a friend knows. That'll teach me for trusting the judgement of a work friend.” His smile was sheepish now.

 “Where is it you're working nowadays anyway? I heard you left the Auror corps a few years ago.”

 “Keeping tabs, were you?”

 “Old habits die hard.”

 “Fair enough!” Draco wondered if Potter’s eyes were always so green. “I'm actually teaching, at a primary school for young witches and wizards before Hogwarts. It's a lot of fun, the kids are amazing to work with.”

 “I can see you enjoying that. You did that Defense Against the Dark Arts club back at school, didn't you? Your pupils were pretty amazing back then, I can only imagine how much better you are now.” What was he saying? Why was he blathering out compliments like an idiot?

 Potter grinned and looked down, his face blushing attractively. ‘... Oh, that's why.’ It hadn't escaped Draco's notice that Potter was handsome, it was just that he only saw him at the Apothecary and was always too busy with his work to actually spend time looking at him. Apparently five uninterrupted minutes of looking at his face was enough to turn Draco into a simpering fool. He shook his head before continuing.

 “So is that what’s bringing you into the apothecary so much? Teaching?”

 “You’d noticed? I hadn’t realized.” His face had become redder still, though Draco couldn’t imagine why. “Er, yeah. I need to keep my first aid potions stocked, and it’s cheaper to just brew them myself. Children have an incredible talent for injuring themselves, it turns out.”

 “I can imagine. My mother keeps reminding me that she wants grandchildren soon, but honestly I don’t know if I could ever properly care for a child.” Draco admitted.

 Potter inched closer to him. “Do you ever see yourself having kids? Down the road?”

 He shrugged. “Maybe. It would depend greatly on whether I’d found a steady partner or not, and when. I think I’d like having a family, but I don’t want to be raising children by myself and I don’t really want to be too old to keep up with them.”

 “I can’t really imagine you having a hard time keeping up with anyone.” Potter’s tone was sincere, and Draco’s chest gave an odd little lurch at the peculiar compliment. “I’ve always wanted a family. I think that’s what I found appealing about Ginny, in the end. Her family is… well, you know. Huge. I’m very lucky to be so close to them, but I’d love a family of my own. For now I’ve got my students and my godson, Teddy.”

 “That’s my cousin’s son, right? Nymphadora’s son?” Draco asked. “How is he?”

 Potter nodded. “Fantastic. He’s the best of both his parents. He’s nearly six now. Your mother spoils him rotten. Now I see how you became such a brat at school.” he laughed, winking.

 Draco gasped in mock offense. “I was nothing of the sort! I’ll have you know, Potter, I was the most delightful child in the history of the world.”

 Potter laughed again, draining the last of his drink. “Of course. How silly of me to forget. And, er, you can call me Harry, you know,” his tone was suddenly serious, almost nervous. “If you want to, I mean.”

 “Harry.” Draco tried the name out, rather enjoying how it felt on his tongue. He, too, finished his drink, “In that case, I insist you call me Draco.”

 “Well, Draco, if you insist.” Harry winked at him again and Draco decided that he must have not eaten enough at dinner, because his face felt warm and it must have been because of the alcohol. It must have. “Say, Draco, when was your date supposed to arrive?”

 “Hm? Oh, seven o’clock.” Draco replied absently, still concerned over the warmth in his cheeks.

 “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news… but it’s nearly eight now.” So it was. He had spent nearly forty-five minutes talking to Harry and it had flown by. “Did you want to continue to wait? Because I bought an obscenely expensive bottle of wine to impress my date, and I won’t appreciate it at all. It would be terrible to let it go to waste.”

 Was Harry Potter asking him to go home with him? Draco was too surprised to respond for a moment.

 “Er, sorry. That probably sounds really weird.” Harry’s face had gone red again. “I swear I’m not going to, you know, take advantage of you or—”

 “No, no, I’d like that. The wine, I mean.” Draco attempted a reassuring smile. “Tonight would have been a humiliating disaster for both of us had you not stepped in, the least I can do is drink your expensive wine.”

 Harry barked out a laugh that seemed to partially deflate him, like he had sighed with relief. Draco found that he rather enjoyed getting Harry to laugh. “You are the very soul of charity, Draco Malfoy.” he paid for the drinks, and stood to leave. “Do you mind walking? My home’s not far from here, and it’s a lovely night.”

 “Walking sounds nice.”

 While they walked back to Harry’s place, they talked more about small things — their hobbies, their friends, things like that. Harry walked closely beside him, accidentally brushing against him often, and Draco’s entire focus would zero in on the places their arms and shoulders touched each time it happened. This made him absolutely useless at conversation, but Harry either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. Draco really wasn’t sure which he’d prefer to be the case. It wasn't long before they stopped on another muggle-occupied street. Harry began walking right between two houses, then paused when Draco did not immediately follow.

 “This is it,” he said, gesturing to his apparent destination.

 “Po— Harry, I can tell when a house is under a Fidelius charm.” Draco rolled his eyes. “You're walking right into a wall, as far as I can see.”

 “Oh. Er, right, sorry. I forget about it all the time, so many people are Secret Keepers now… er, it's 12 Grimmauld Place.”

 And just like that, Harry's home appeared. It was noticeably older than the houses on either side of it, and in a considerable state of disrepair. “This was Sirius Black’s home, wasn't it?” Harry nodded. “What happened?”

 “The war,” was Harry's simple reply, as if that explained everything. For the time being, it did. “Don't worry, it's much nicer inside.”

 And it was. Inside the walls were freshly painted and, aside from the ornate light fixtures, a few portraits, and the odd heirloom or two, one might never know the home once belonged to an old pureblood family. Harry led him to a comfortably furnished sitting room.

 “Wait right here, I'll grab the wine.” He seemed oddly jumpy all of a sudden, but Draco could empathize. It had been a long time since he had last been in another man's home. Even if the evening didn't lead to romance or sex, the experience was novel.

 Once Harry left the room, Draco took the moment of solitude as a chance to investigate his surroundings. In the corner of the room was a glass terrarium, where a small, pale yellow snake was coiled on a little log. The walls were covered in photographs, both magic and muggle. Featured in these photos were, of course, Weasley and Granger, other members of the Weasley family, Lovegood, Longbottom, and several others whose faces he remembered from school. Most prominently featured was a small boy who seemed to be a metamorphmagus. While his hair color changed from one photo to the next, the Black family features were unmistakeable on his face – it had to be Harry's godson. Draco happened upon a small strip of four black and white muggle-style photographs. They depicted Harry and the little boy pulling silly faces at the camera in the first three photos before dissolving into giggles in the last one. Draco couldn't help but smile at the love evident on Harry's face.

 “Those are from Teddy's fifth birthday.” Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Harry's voice. “I took him to an arcade downtown. He's obsessed with all things muggle.”

 Draco turned to see his host pouring two glasses of sparkling white wine. “Have you met Daffodil yet? She's Teddy's snake.” He gestured to the terrarium in the corner. As if she understood him, the snake lifted her head up, her forked tongue flicking with interest. Harry hissed something at the animal, and she rested her head back onto her coils.

 “What did you say to her?” Draco asked curiously.

 “Truth be told, I'm not a parselmouth anymore. Not since… well, you know.” Harry smiled at him. “I just try to hiss from the heart. I think she understands.” He handed a glass to Draco and raised his own, his smile turning thoughtful. “To… new connections.”

Draco raised an eyebrow but raised his glass in turn, clinking it against Harry's. The wine was cool and sweet, but did nothing to help the heat rising once more in his face. Harry topped off both of their glasses before sitting in a plush loveseat. He gestured for Draco to sit beside him.

 “So Draco, what poor sorry sod passed up your date tonight?” he asked, settling back in his seat and looking him over appraisingly.

��“So you could tell I'd been stood up after all, eh?” Draco asked ruefully.

 “I'm something of an expert on you being cross, so… yeah.” He laughed. “You looked positively livid at the bar.”

 “I may have been… slightly disappointed. Mother tried her hand at matchmaking. She's been trying to see me matched for a while now. I had a boyfriend for a little while right after Hogwarts, but it didn't work out so she's in a panic. She and father were already married when they were my age, so apparently since I'm still single I'm going to die alone. At least that's what you'd think if you heard her go on about it.”

 “It sounds like you didn't want to go out at all.”

 “As I said, I had a short relationship after Hogwarts… and nothing else since. I wasn't necessarily against meeting someone, it's just… I suppose I'm not really a fan of letting mother know when she's right. I was a bit reluctant.”

 “And now? Do you regret going out?”

 “Honestly? Things sort of worked out perfectly. You're proving to be good company, which I'm perfectly willing to admit I'm lacking, and Mother was wrong about her mystery match.” He drained the rest of his drink, which Harry immediately refilled. “Best of both worlds.”

 “I'll be honest with you,” Harry scooted closer to him. “I'm actually very glad your date didn't show up.”

 It was a crime Harry had spent so much money on the wine, because Draco was suddenly gulping it down in his nervousness and couldn't taste it at all.

 When Draco didn't respond, Harry continued. “I mean, when you walked into that restaurant tonight, dressed to kill…” he let out a long breath. “I was not looking forward to seeing someone else sweep you off your feet.”

 “What about your date?” Draco hated that he couldn't manage to get his voice above a whisper.

 “I was just about to leave when you walked in. I don't know why I stayed. I'm glad I did.” He seemed to catch himself. “I'm… I'm so sorry, that was incredibly forward of me. It's just… I don't actually need that many first aid potions. At work, I mean. I just had no idea how else to see you. I didn't even know if you were gay, but then I heard your mother talking to her sister about you so I started coming by more often, but I couldn't pluck up the nerve to ask you out. Then I tried to see someone else and then you showed up and… yeah.” he finished lamely, looking down at his lap.

 This was footing Draco was more accustomed to. At least now he knew that whatever was blossoming in his mind wasn't going to be thrown back in his face. Emboldened by the security afforded to him by Harry's admission, he set his glass aside, gently lifted Harry's face by the chin, and kissed him.

 The kiss began as chaste, but quickly escalated. It had been a long time since Draco had received any proper kisses, and the small moans of happiness coming from Harry hit him like air to a drowning man. He wrapped his arms around him, carding a hand through messy black hair, and was rewarded with the feel of warm, wide hands on the small of his back. They remained like that for a while, acquainting themselves with each other physically, before Harry broke the kiss.

 “I want to ask you to come up to my room.”

 “I would very much like that.”

 “I want you to agree to go on an actual date with me first.”

 “I would very much like that also.”

 Harry's grin was wide as he took Draco's hand and led him upstairs.

 14th February, 2004 — 9:00 p.m.

 Two wine glasses clinked against one another in triumph. Upstairs, Teddy Lupin slept peacefully.

 “So what was your story?” Andromeda asked.

 “Some cock-and-bull about a nephew of a friend, yours?” Narcissa replied.

 “I had a girl he works with 'set him up’ with an imaginary fellow.” she smirked. “You're certain Draco's interested as well?”

 “He talked of nothing but Harry Potter for years, and even now he makes a point to gush about every single time Potter turns up at his work. I'd be willing to bet anything he's with him right now, and he doesn't come home until tomorrow.”

 “It'll be nice to have Harry in the family properly.” Andromeda sighed happily.

 “It'll be nice to see Draco with someone who really loves him.”

 Narcissa Malfoy knew what was best for her son, even if he didn't believe it.

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