#Ron asks 'why is everything i own always rubbish' in book 4

[delcat177]

I keep thinking about how kind of mean and hopeless the Harry Potter books were in worldbuilding

Harry Potter is set up to be poor and miserable and have nothing, and to have all of that "corrected" by finding out he's a wizard and his family is rich and he'll never want for anything again

Ron Weasley is set up to be poor and miserable and have nothing and suffer forever for it

Like, I grew up in the extinct middle class that was between lower-middle and upper-middle, just middle-middle, but it was an economically depressed town in an economically depressed state, and my economically depressed friend fucking HATED Ron

I also hated Ron, everyone hated Ron, but it was more the past few days I've really been thinking about the difference, that if you're poor, you get to be poor as a wizard, you get this representation but it's as The Ron, and for the entire time that the audience is supposed to be going along with Harry on this new, magical journey...your MC role is to be *nice* to poor people as your defining characteristic of this dynamic, because oh, look, being poor sucks ASS and everyone will hate you and make fun of you.

JKR just...didn't worldbuild for shit. Like, she made all these pretty, silly, wacky things, but under the cozy Wonka-esque trappings of "oh what a lovely place I wish I could live there", life is unreasonably hard and unreasonably unfair for an Earth where magic is real.

"If Muggles knew about magic, they'd want it to solve all their problems all the time" yeah Christ forbid you solve problems, you can't even get student loans running you senile old fuck

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good Epilogue

Not my gif

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]

[Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18]

Warnings: mentions of sex

-

The game had started as a simple distraction while Charlie slept. Back at their cabin in Romania, almost two weeks after the incident in London and receiving confirmation that Voldemort had returned, Charlie and Kate forced themselves to do something they were both terrible at: spending an afternoon doing nothing.

Charlie had managed for the first time in months to take a short nap. 

Kate couldn’t. 

With her wand she had levitated a pillow and was spinning it in the air when another one identical to this one joined in. Her partner had woken up and without saying anything, they started a fight over their heads.

At some point they turned around in bed, trying to distract each other from their target and now they were side by side, with their feet towards the head of the bed.

Every now and then, Kate would look down at Charlie’s bare legs, but it wasn’t enough to lose the fight. Luckily, he was wearing a T-shirt. Knowing this, and taking advantage of the cotton shorts she was wearing, Charlie let his right leg fall on her own.

He saw out of the corner of his eye how she shook her head and before he could anticipate it, Kate twisted her arm so that she could cover his face with the back of her hand. Neither of them lost sight of their flying pillows.

After a while Kate tried uselessly to escape from Charlie’s leg and get the hand he had kidnapped against his chest back. Meanwhile, he decided to keep playing dirty.

Releasing her arm, and taking advantage of her concentration, he slightly pinched her waist.

Her torso jumped like a spring away from him, lifting her light green tank top, but she couldn’t go very far because of the weight of now Charlie’s two legs.

He smiled to himself. Without warning, he began to pinch every exposed skin he could reach, making Kate squirm like a fish out of water.

She was laughing, against her will, and the pillow began to twirl around the room following the erratic motion of her wand. She began to slap his hands away, but it was useless. Sticking out her tongue a bit to the side, Charlie noticed, she gained control over her pillow again and with a sharp motion of her wand it fell right onto Charlie’s face.

The tickles stopped for a second, and Charlie froze in place. The other pillow fell to the floor with a soft thud and Kate held her breath, waiting for a reaction.

Her mouth filled with air, making her cheeks round, as she tried as best as she could to control the laugh that was trying to escape.

Charlie grabbed the pillow and threw it in her general direction, effectively hitting her in the face, and she couldn’t resist puffing her laugh out. It all happened so fast; he was suddenly above her, benefiting from her distraction, and the tickles began again.

Both knew that Charlie was strong enough to stop Kate from moving, yet he let her throw herself on him and anchor him to the bed.

“Stop now if you don’t want a kick on your chin.” She wanted to sound threatening, but the cheeky grin that was plastered on his face made her snort despite herself.

“You started.” She scrunched her nose and pressed it against his, a mocking expression whose sole purpose was allowing her to touch his face. “I like hearing you laugh.” He murmured.

Charlie pulled away some locks of hair that had cascaded over her eyes and appreciated how the light coming in through the window created an almost angelic halo around her head.

“Ron hasn’t written yet?” she asked.

Charlie exhaled and dropped his head back.

“Can we for once not talk about...anything?”

Kate frowned, she was tired of tiptoeing around the theme of Voldemort, of Harry, of Sirius.

Kate had proposed bringing Harry to Romania for the summer, thinking that he would take his mind off his godfather and not have to return to his horrible Muggle family in the process. Everyone refused, including him.

She moved to get off Charlie, anticipating an argument on the subject, but he grabbed her by the waist with both hands, preventing her from leaving him.

“We agreed on one evening. One afternoon without thinking. If it’s not today, you will owe me one.”

Kate reluctantly nodded, knowing that he was right, and leaned forward to rest on his chest. She plunged her face into his neck and stayed there, trying to stop her mind while Charlie hugged her to him.

Why had Dumbledore waited so long to tell her he had the list? Why did no one want her to bring Harry with her? How was he doing? Was Corentin mad at her because she left without saying goodbye? She sent a letter saying she almost died, but he hadn’t replied…

“I can hear you, you know?” Charlie whispered. He felt the faintest of smiles against his skin and then a soft peck behind his ear. 

Sorry

“I don’t think I’ll get used to this. It’s scary listening voices that are not your own.”

“Welcome to the club.” She hummed when his hands started lazy patterns on her back, and despite beginning to feel sticky from the heat, she pressed herself further against him.

His breathing, his chest going up and down, the hand that moved to massage her hair and the soft kisses on her forehead made her start to drift to that promised sleep she hadn’t been able to get that afternoon.

“Am I crushing you?” She was genuinely worried he might have been uncomfortable, but a long and loud kiss to her cheek reassured her.

“You can crush me anytime.” He grinned against her skin and she reciprocated it with a huff so lazy that couldn’t be considered a laugh.

A few knocks on the window startled them. Seeing the owl, Kate pressed her face back into Charlie’s neck and grunted. The bird was insistent and began a series of angry taps to the glass. With a sigh and little desire, he untangled Kate’s body from him, leaving her face down on the bed.

“Katie.” Charlie closed the window after seeing the owl leave and sat down on the edge of the bed. Slowly, and with her eyes closed, she rolled over a few times until she made contact with his back. She came up behind him and on her knees wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top on his head.

“News from London?”

“No. From Durmstrang. And it came with this.” He handed her the letter and a small package with the school’s emblem on its seal. “Maybe it’s from your friend.”

She used her nail with most delicacy, trying to keep the beautiful seal intact, and smiled when she saw Corentin’s signature at the end of the paper. When she finished, she left the letter on the bed and unwrapped the package.

“He says he sent me ‘something that always comes in handy’. What could that be?”

“Hm, I don’t know… I hope hair ties” Charlie raised his forehead challenging her, and she flashed an innocent grin.

Kate took out a delicate bottle with a label from a small cloth bag. It looked empty and foggy, but as she moved it, the contents swayed with it.

Bottled ghost breath.

She threw her head back with her laugh, leaving a stunned but appreciative Charlie staring at her.

“An inside joke?” he asked with a small chuckle. She simply nodded and crawled to her bedside table, where she left her wand and mail.

Taking advantage of her back to him, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled until she was sitting between his legs.

“Hey!”

After some giggles, they sat like this, chest to back, swaying to the rhythm of non-existent music. Kate rested her head back and stared at his lips, asking for something more.

He smiled before the kiss, the kisses, and hummed in contentment.

“In spite of everything... Do you miss Durmstrang? Being a teacher?” he inquired after a while.

“It was fun, yes...”

“I’m sure you were brilliant.” Kate scrunched her nose at that and shrugged.

“I always thought you’d be the teacher... and write a thousand books about dragons, and people would line up to get into Professor Weasley’s lecture and you’d have all the girls behind you...”

“Don’t talk nonsense.” He snorted, making her laugh too.

She put her hands on his forearms and caressed her way to his hands. She placed them over his, aligning their fingers, and started swaying their arms.

“And you will open a hospital, which will have your name and a huge picture of your face. And you will discover cures for rare diseases, and everyone will want to work with mediwizard Williams, and the young trainees will drool over you.”

“Wow, now who’s talking rubbish?” Charlie pressed his face against her neck, silencing his laugh.

Kate looked away from her scar, the souvenir she had brought back from the trip to Durmstrang, and her smile broke. Charlie didn’t see it, but he could feel it so he interlocked their fingers and drew their arms to her middle, hugging her closer to him.

“Do you think we’ll have any of that?” She asked.

He rested his head on her shoulder and nodded. “I don’t doubt it. Although...” She turned her head, a frown forming between her brows. “Although I wouldn’t mind if not that way. My only request is that we’re together.”

She inhaled, letting her heart grow and make even more room for the man behind her. After turning around, she kneeled between his legs and placed her hands on either side of his face.

Charlie grabbed the back of her thighs, pulling her a little closer, and stared up at her.

After searching his eyes for a moment, and satisfied with what she found there, she drew his face near and pressed her lips firmly against his. It ended with a chaste sound that the next shorter kisses imitated.

She moved her hands to his hair and gave a light tug that ignited something between them they had lacked for half a year. And the hasty night in Grimmauld Place didn’t count, they considered, for they weren’t really safe and it only served as a reconnection more than a time to feel with abandonment.

Their lips found their way to each other again, this time allowing the start of an exploration. She hummed into his mouth when the pair of hands that balanced her legs moved to squeeze her bum.

Sensing that the advances were evolving into an inevitable outcome, Charlie ended the kiss.

“I’m hungry.”

Kate started placing small kisses along his neck, “Please don’t mean food…” Charlie chuckled then, and patted her butt cheeks for her to move.

Rolling her eyes, she stood up, murmuring complaints about wasting time cooking all the time.

“No need, there’s some pie left and I’ll make some tea, now come on.” Kate yelped when he lifted her and put her legs around him for support.

“Put me down, you’ll hurt your back.” She still wanted to devour the lips that were now smiling, and she stared at them all the way to the kitchen.

“You don’t think I can carry you? You weigh as much as a fairy.”

“Not true.” She giggled when she untangled herself, and with a small jump she sat on the counter.

She looked around at her home. From the counter, she could see the wooden table where they sat to have their meals and share their days; the two small couches that faced each other, where some tears and laughs had been spilled; the chimney, the place where he last saw her before leaving.

It was their nest, their safe place, and she couldn’t believe she was finally back.

Her father’s letters mocked her from the coffee table. He had sent money, true to his word, but it had remained untouched since Charlie received it.

Dumbledore refused to give her another mission, not that she complained, but a dark voice inside her head told her it would be preferable instead of facing unemployment again.

Now she saw that money with different eyes.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She said when he felt Charlie put a hand on her knee.

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t want to use that money.”

“Then don’t. We don’t need it, anyway.” She heard him put a kettle on the stove. “Also, that woman, Rhode, paid you for the time teaching, didn’t she? You could use that for your mediwizard training.”

Kate hummed, agreeing, but not entirely convinced.

“I doubt Nougal would accept me in the hospital now. It’s been too long. And I can’t go back whining after resigning.”

She looked at him when he didn’t answer. He was left staring at the about -to- whistle kettle.

“What?” She demanded. After a moment, he talked again.

“I was just thinking that there’s a vacancy in the reserve…”

“No.” She said firmly, shaking her head.

“Just… listen to me.” She crossed her arms, but he was fast enough to grab her wrists, preventing her from shielding herself. “You could apply and work there. Yes, in a tent, don’t look at me like that. It would be less stressful than the hospital, and sure you are overqualified for it, but…”

He brought her hands to his chest and searched her eyes. “But you will have time to study for the mediwizard training, so when you actually take the tests it’ll be a piece of cake.”

Letting go of her arms, he rounded her waist and got as close as the counter allowed.

“Besides, and this is the important part, I’ll have my own sexy healer.” She smirked then, avoiding his stare and making circles on his arm with her fingers.

“The kettle…”

Charlie shook her head and went to the stove. She thought the conversation was over, but he didn’t intend to give it up.

“Imagine: we wake up, we go there together, I kiss you before parting, and then we meet for lunch. You tell me how many burn-healing paste jars you used that day and after working in the afternoon we meet again to go home together.”

“Sounds very good…” She accepted the plate with some pie that he offered and smiled, “I’ll think about it.”

“And who knows, maybe we can get a mission for the Order together this time. Bed or couch?”

“Bed!” She hopped off the counter and followed him to their bedroom with cups and plates in hand.

They ate in silence, each with their own thoughts and blocking the other from hearing them.  Still not speaking, Kate fed him her last bite of pie left on her plate and left it on the nightstand. She closed her eyes.

“Do you remember the Quidditch World Cup?”

Charlie huffed, accidentally spitting some crumbs “How could I forget…”

“You were injured, and I… cured you. Afterwards… I felt terrible…”

“For saving my life? You flatter me, love.”

Kate snorted and turned to her side. Instead of looking up at him, started caressing the hairs on his arm absentmindedly.

“No. After everything calmed down, it hit me… I could have made a mistake with your wound. I could have mispronounced the spell or make a wrong wand movement…”

He let her think her next words but seeing she was struggling he asked, “That’s why you always refused to work at the reserve? Because you’re afraid to harm me?”

“Well, it’s more complicated than that. I shouldn’t be your healer… It sounds dumb when I say it out loud. “

“That we agree on.”

“I think about it more than you could imagine. I’m always torn between ‘I shouldn’t be his healer in case something goes wrong’ and ‘if someone other than me touches you I’ll start blasting hexes’.”

He began laughing then, at first just a cackle, but after a while he had to cover his eyes with his palm. Kate moved into a sitting position and stared at him.

“You are… the most absurd woman I’ve ever met.”

“Well, thanks. You flatter me, love.” She repeated his earlier words, leaving a particular sparkle in his eyes.

“You were Madam Pomfrey’s youngest apprentice, you were the brightest healer trainee in St Mungo while mourning a loss and escaping from your controlling grandfather, you got a job in the best hospital in Bucharest, you just came from the most demanding school in Europe, having worked as a healer and as a teacher.” He counted with his fingers, his voice steady and warm.

“You are many things, love, but not incapable or incompetent. If there’s anyone I’d trust with my health or my life, that’s you.”

Kate sat speechless, digesting his words. A tear threatened to spill, but she didn’t let it.

“You are a treasure, Charlie Weasley. But I can’t be your healer.” She said as softly as she could, hoping he would understand and respect that decision.

“The offer is there.” He paused, a question behind his eyes, she felt, and Kate waited for him to speak. “But let me ask you something: what do you want to do?”

“I want to become a mediwizard.” She stated. Charlie broke into a giant smile and she reciprocated it.

“Then if you know the goal, I’m sure you’ll find the way.”

Charlie sighed dramatically then, and she smirked, anticipating some kind of remark.

“It’s hard being so wise.”

Kate chuckled. “And you?” She practically whispered.

“What about me?”

“What do you want to do?”

He closed his eyes and pretended to think about it. A silly question, she considered, knowing that he knew what he wanted to do with his life from the moment he learned what a dragon was.

“I would... I would love to be a good dragonologist. A real one.”

“You are already that.”

“No, not yet. But someday.” She pursed her lips and with a sharp nod she added, “I think you always have been.”

“Oh, and it would be fantastic to go to China some day! The sanctuaries there are wonderful...”

“Didn’t you mention a story about some secret papyrus?” The sparkle in his eyes made Kate want to shower his face in kisses.

“The Lost Scrolls of Quong Po! Can you imagine? His discoveries about dragons could change how we see the magic world…”

“An adventure for another time.” They were pensive for a while, enjoying the pleasant silence that had been created around them.

Kate considered fondly from where she sat; his arms rested at his sides, shoulders relaxed, his muscular legs were stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. The light coming through the window made the copper curls of his thighs stand out. She didn’t resist the temptation and placed her hand there, feeling his muscle towards his knee, and then caressed her way back to the top of his thigh.

Charlie tilted his head and squinted at her imperceptibly, observing how she played with his soft hairs, her mind drifting away from the moment and sinking deep into herself.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured. Kate inhaled, opening her lips to tell him, but the words she wanted to express were so tangled with each other it was impossible to reorganise the sentence. She lifted one shoulder just an inch, tilting her face towards it in an adorable gesture that Charlie had seen plenty of times before. It lasted no more than a moment, and it was usually followed by a deep and heavy thought.

“I could have reacted the same way as Mer Yankelevich did. I know her pain and her desperation. If I had suspected, back then, that there was a chance, a minuscule one, to bring my brother back… how far would I have gone? We’re not so different, aren’t we? Her and I.”

She looked at him then, searching for an answer. Charlie’s brow furrowed and shifted his eyes towards her gentle hand.

“It’s interesting how everyone around us live the same experiences as we do… and yet we choose very different paths.” Leron Angelov invaded her thoughts. Then Jorgensen appeared next to him, followed by Sheyi Mawut and Mer Yankelevich. Astrid Rhode and Cassandra Steiner materialised at the ends of that line up she’d created, and finally Libor Marek. All of them, so different in shape, sizes and set of mind, were bonded to each other by one single thing: grief.

She didn’t know their backstories very well, and they didn’t know hers, but she was certain now that she could look anybody in the eye and say with conviction: I understand.

“Well, that’s what makes everybody different, isn’t it? Our choices.” Charlie’s voice brought her back to Earth. “I don’t think you would have gone crazy. You already were.” The corner of his mouth raised, and she tsked, lightly swatting his leg. She tried to hide the smirk, but he had already caught it.

I saw that.

“We’ll never know.”

“Oh, I know.” Charlie interrupted, “There’s a possibility, right? Those Deathly Hallows, they mentioned. You figure out if they’re real or not, you find them, and you use them. Would you do it?” That made her frown.

“No.”

His forehead raised, point proven, and interlocked his fingers on his lap. “You are different.”

Kate tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips as she stared at him, getting perilously lost in his brown eyes.

“To have decided that it was our free afternoon, we’ve been thinking a lot...” Charlie commented. Kate just nodded. “How about switching to other kinds of activities...?”

“Something that doesn’t require... thinking?”

“Exactly.”

“I’d love to, but now that you mentioned that you want to be a real dragonologist, it reminded me that I’ve yet to see your finished work!”

“It’s a draft.”

“Yes, but a 214- pages -draft. Come on… read it to me.”

Charlie shut his eyes closed and shook his head. “When it’s finished.”

“You’re no fun. I bet you get accepted in that new program in the Apuseni mountains you’ve been dreaming of for months. They didn’t even ask for a whole dissertation, and you did it, anyway. Remember my Christmas gift?”

Charlie smiled then, remembering the night they spent at her grandfather’s house celebrating the holidays, and the exact moment she gave him a letter… a letter from the one and only Newt Scamander, saying that Kate had sent him parts of his unfinished project, he had read them, and he had liked them!

It was still unreal.

Charlie moved then, getting on his knees, and crawled over to Kate, getting close enough to make her lay down. She placed her hands on his biceps and caressed the scar there before going up to his neck. “I’ll read it to you… later?”

“Deal.”

With a smirk forming on her face, she reached down to grab the hem of his shirt and pulled upward just an inch.

“I don’t think you will be needing this.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. In one move he threw his T-shirt across the room. “Where were we?”

“Hm... I don’t remember, we should start from the beginning.”

From that day on, things did not improve, however, their conversation remained engraved in their minds. They would not fight in vain, they would fight for each other, for their future and for the greater good they believed in.

This mission was over, maybe not in the way Kate would have preferred, but that night, with Charlie’s arms around her as he read, she decided she should close this chapter and replenish her strength for what was to come.

--

A/N: Do you want to know what happened that Christmas? Or maybe at the Quidditch World Cup?

Tag List:

@eldritchscreech​

@meteora-fc​

@cazreadsstuff

@the-navistar-carol​

@am-i-space​

[somenewsarah]

Betrothed pt 4

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Requested: Yes

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!Reader

Genre: idek at this point, it’s kinda sad, kinda mushy, kinda happy all in one story

Word Count: 2.5k+

Author’s Note: I’m in the process of wrapping up this story, probably 3-4 more parts, so requests are on hold until I finish this one! Thank y’all for reading, I appreciate all the love for this story! <3

Watching you walk out that door was one of the hardest things Draco had ever experienced. His heart pangs in unfamiliar ways, and he knows he should go after you. Damn his pride and damn you for always being right. You were never safe in the manor. Not while Voldemort reigns.

Draco walks downstairs to a fire cackling and his mother, father, aunt, and your father sitting about the parlor, all drinking and discussing the coming uprising. Y/N’s father stands as he watches Draco enter.

 “How is she?” He asks, but Draco just shakes his head. “What’s wrong?”

 “She’s gone,” Draco starts, “and there was nothing I could do to stop her.”

 “Gone?” Lucius spits, now standing from his own seat.

 “She left. I don’t know where she was going, but she’s gone,” Draco explains again, his voice becoming more and more empty.

 Narcissa watches her son, watches how his face becomes hollower by the minute, how his eyes are no longer grey and youthful, but a sorrowful grey that swarms like an angry ocean. She stands and ushers Draco from the parlor as Lucius begins his uproar.

 “What happened?” She asks, keeping an arm wrapped around her son.

 “She left me,” Draco utters, “she’s really gone.”

 “She’ll be back,” Narcissa assures him.

 “Maybe.” Draco’s jaw is locked, though she sees the tears in his eyes.

 “You love her,” Narcissa states. And it’s not a question. She noticed how he’d watched her, how he protected her, how no matter how far apart they were in a room, he was always looking for and at her.

 “I do.”

 ~

 The letter comes from the place Draco had suspected all along. He isn’t sure why he’s surprised, but he is. Not because the letter came from the Burrow, but because he wasn’t from Y/N. No, it wasn’t from you at all, it was from George Weasley.

 Draco,

 Just writing to let you know Y/N was here. She told us what happened, but some things were said and she isn’t here anymore. Hermione and I are going to go out and look for her. We’re leaving tomorrow at dawn if you’d like to join us. No need to write back, just show up.

 George Weasley

 ~

 Draco never suspected he’d be aligning with a Weasley, but he found himself doing loads of different things when it came to you.

 So, he stands outside of the Burrow mere moments before dawn, debating on whether to knock on the door. He doesn’t wait long, however. The door swings open and George and Hermione step out into the soft light of morning.

 “You look like hell,” George snorts, clapping a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

 “Could say the same about you,” Draco retorts, and there’s more of a bite to his tone than George’s, but neither pay it any mind. “Do you know where she might go?”

 “I have an idea,” Hermione says. “I thought we could start at her home, see if she’s there. If not, her mum’s grave.”

 “That’s a brilliant idea,” Draco nods, “we should get going, then.”

 Together, you trek towards the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, all three of you sending up a silent thought until you couldn’t take it anymore.

 “So,” Hermione begins, matching pace with Draco as they walk. George pulls ahead a bit, pretending not to listen. “Do you really think it’s over?”

 “It can’t be,” Draco says, keeping his eyes forward. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure it isn’t.”

 ~

 Your house is dark- you’ve kept the lights off since you got here so no one would bother you. Not the neighbors, not your thoughts, nothing and nobody. You’re sure your father will have heard of your departure by now, but if he had, he hadn’t come looking for you.

 You’ve spent the day wrapped in your mother’s favorite quilt, remembering her and the way she laughed, the way she smelled, the way she always looked for more out of her life. Why couldn’t you and your father been enough? Why did she have to go on that stupid assignment?

 There’s a knock on the door and your heart leaps. Surely it was just a neighbor or maybe someone just seeing if you or your father were home.

 You move to answer the door, and your jaw drops at who’s on the other side. Hermione smiles warmly at you. It’s someone you would welcome any day.

 “This was almost too easy,” Hermione snorts. “You’re so predictable.”

 “Did you come here to insult me?” You ask, holding the door open for her to come inside.

 “No,” she smiles, wrapping you in a hug, “I came here to check on you. And so did they.”

 Draco and George suddenly fill the door frame; George avoids your gaze while Draco stares you down. You can’t help the sudden warmth that fills you as you stare back at him, finding yourself captivated in those damn eyes.

 “Hi,” you whisper.

 Draco is quick to scoop you in his arms, holding onto you for dear life. He’s kissing you now, kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your lips, his fingers lost in your hair.

 “I’m so sorry,” he whispers only to you. Hermione has the decency to drag George into the kitchen so you and Draco could have your moment. “I should’ve listened to you, I should’ve stopped everything, I’m so sorry, my love. Can you ever forgive me?”

 “Draco,” you whisper, looking up at him, “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for.”

 “I’m apologizing for being a coward and letting the ties my family has dictate my actions. I didn’t kill Dumbledore, Y/N, and I need you to know that.”

 “I do know that, Draco,” you say, shaking your head at him.

 “Then why did you leave me?”

 “I didn’t leave you,” you say, pulling away from him despite his tight arms around you. “I left the manor. I left because my father is a changed man. I left because I don’t want to be associated with the dark arts, or with anything He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is doing, and being there makes me a direct target. I will not end up like my mother.”

 “You won’t,” he assures you. “I won’t let that happen. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise you.”

 “I can’t stay there, Draco.”

 “I’m not asking you to,” he says, “I would never ask you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

 “I know,” you nod. “I want to stay here, but I’m afraid my father will come and just drag me back.”

 “What if I handle that? Would you let me do that for you?”

 “What do you mean?”

 Draco holds you at arm’s length, almost as if he were examining you.

 “Let me strike a deal with my father. Your father can stay at the manor and do what he feels is right, and in exchange, you and I will stay here, away from that chaos and away from them until school starts back. I’ll make sure you get back to Hogwarts safely,” he says quickly, brushing loose strands of hair from your forehead. “We can just be in our own little bubble here, just until term begins again.”

 “That sounds nice,” you whisper, your eyes searching his. “Do you think it’ll work?”

 “Yes. But I need you to do something for me,” he says.

 “Anything.”

 “I need you to stay with the Weasley’s until your father can get his stuff. If you don’t want to be around him, then I won’t put you in that position to be.”

 “I’d need to ask,” you say, your eyes falling to the floor.

 “No, you don’t,” George pipes up. He finally meets your gaze as he walks slowly toward you, Hermione trailing after him in case things get ugly again. “I’m sorry for what happened at breakfast the other morning. Ron’s been filled in on the whole story, and I’m sure you’ll have a few apologies waiting for you when we get there.”

 “Are you sure?” You ask, looking between him and Draco.

 “Yes,” he nods, swallowing hard. “If you’re sure this is what you want… He is what you want, then yes. I’m sure if you are.”

 Tears well in your eyes as you quickly wrap your arms around George, squeezing him tightly.

 “I’m sure.”

 ~

 The Burrow is warm and homey and there is a cinnamon smell to it that makes it always feel like the fall months.

 “Hello dear,” Molly greets you.

 “Hello,” you smile. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for blowing up on Ron at breakfast. I truly am sorry, and I want you to know how incredibly grateful I am for you and Arthur taking me in like this.”

 “Don’t even mention it,” Arthur smiles. “Hermione will show you upstairs, hope you don’t mind sharing.”

 “Not at all,” you match his grin. “It’s like having the sisters I’ve always wanted.”

 Hermione laughs as she picks up your suitcase. You follow her from the living room and begin the trek up the stairs.

 “Do you ever get used to all these stairs?” You ask, becoming more and more winded with each step.

 “Eventually,” she laughs.

 ~

 The days at the Burrow ticked by. You spent most mornings helping Molly cook and clean while learning new spells to help with just that. Your afternoons were spent answering Draco’s letters, insisting that everything was fine and you’d be there waiting for him. The evenings and nights were spent with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were to embark on a great journey before the summer was up to find Horcruxes.

 “If I can offer any advice,” you say, knocking lightly on the door, obviously interrupting them, “think like the Dark Lord would. Some of the horcruxes could be something so obvious that thinking of it is absurd.”

 “You know about horcruxes?” Harry asks, piercing you with his green eyes.

 “Yes,” you nod. “Not only are you three rubbish at being secretive, but I’ve read about them once. Professor Flitwick gave me permission to visit the restricted section and I came across them in a book I was flipping through.”

 “How do we destroy them?” Harry asks.

 You move into the room and take a seat in their small circle next to Hermione. You shrug.

“It depends on the object that the soul is inside of,” you explain. “Have you destroyed any so far?”

 “One. Tom Riddle’s diary,” Ron mutters.

 “How did you destroy it?”

 “Harry did it,” Hermione says, looking to Harry as if she didn’t know the answer herself.

 “I destroyed it with a Basilisk fang.”

 “It was probably protected by some incredibly dark magic, then,” you say, chewing your lip. You concentrate, calling on your memory as you try to remember what the book said about dark magic and horcruxes. “You’re going to need something stronger than the elements to destroy them. Play to each of your strengths.”

 “You could come with us,” Hermione suggests.

 “No,” you shake your head immediately, “this is your fight, Harry. I have things at Hogwarts to worry about, now that Snape is headmaster. But I’m always easy to reach should you need some wisdom.”

 Hermione smiles at you as she nods. “It’s nice having another thinker around.”

 “It is,” you agree, bowing your head.

 “If things at Hogwarts get bad, protect Ginny,” Ron says suddenly. “I know she’s bloody brilliant on her own, but it’d be nice to have someone there looking out for her.”

 “I will,” you promise.

 When you wake the next morning, the trio is gone, only leaving a note to Molly and Arthur, explaining that they were finishing some of Dumbledore’s business. It was your last morning at the Burrow as well; Draco had shown up on the doorstep hours later dressed in his dark suit that you thought made him look so pale but handsome, and told you with a small grin to collect your things.

 “Hey,” George says as you pass him. There hadn’t been much correspondence with him throughout your four days at the Weasley’s home since he and Fred shared the apartment above the joke shop, but you’re glad he was talking to you now.

 “Hey,” you nod. “I’m just grabbing my things. Draco’s here. I suppose the deal went through.”

 “If things don’t turn out the way you plan-“

 “I’ll write to you,” you promise. “I’ll let you know when we’re safe as well.”

 “Alright,” he swallows. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

 ~

 Your home finally felt like a home again. The house was lit with several candles when you entered, and Draco had even managed to make it smell like warm vanilla and berries, like one of your favorite perfumes.

 “You did all of this?” You ask, turning to look at him.

 “I did,” he shrugs. His lips quirk into their famous smirk, but it isn’t a malicious one- no, this one is warm and kind, but sexy and full of unspoken promise. “You know for the next month we have this entire house to ourselves. My mother will come once a week with our elf to make sure we have food, but she is the only one allowed to come. It was part of the arrangement.”

 “No one else?”

 “No one else,” he says, looking down at you.

 You suddenly launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him hard. The candles illuminate his skin in such a beautiful way that you can’t help it as you push his jacket from his shoulders and toss it onto the back of the couch.

 Draco’s hands are incessant as they run up and down your back, each time getting a little bolder and a little lower. His mouth is hungry against yours as he backs you against the wall, holding you closer to his body as his lips down your cheek, to your neck, across your jaw, to your ear, and back to your mouth.

“Draco,” you pant as his lips on your neck send shivers down your spine.

 “Yes, love?” He asks, still nipping at your skin. You’re a quivering wreck beneath him, your fingers knotting in his hair as your words fail you.

 Draco’s hand slips beneath your shirt and lands flat on your back, holding you steady against him.

 “Not yet,” you manage to pant, pulling your head away from his. “Not now. Soon.”

 “I’d wait forever for you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead gently.

 You’re scooped into his arms at once and he carries you down the hallway. You point to your bedroom door and he makes quick work of opening it and depositing you into your bed.

 “I can sleep on the couch, if you’d like,” Draco whispers, sitting on the edge of your bed.

 “Don’t be daft,” you say, “besides, beds aren’t really the same without you.”

 “So I’ve heard,” he laughs.

 Draco crawls into the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you to his chest. You weren’t sure what the next term at Hogwarts would offer, but you knew it wouldn’t be pleasant or easy, but as long as you kept your wits about you, you knew you could get through anything.

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[mchanv]

(DFYaH) Chapter 4: Testing

[Originally on AO3]

Summary: I’ve always wondered what Draco Malfoy’s side of the Harry Potter saga was, that’s how I came up with this idea. It is not possible at all to be canon, due to the inability of certain magical items in the story. It runs alongside the books very closely, so some dialogue or actions can come directly from them.      Draco Malfoy goes to Hogwarts for his first year. After being sorted into Slytherin and the night had fallen, a strange silvery bird gives him a message. The bird, seemingly a Phoenix, belongs to Albus Dumbledore, his Headmaster, who gives Draco a book upon his arrival in his office that same night. Draco has no idea what the book meant, but decides to go through with what Dumbledore has asked of him.

Ship: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood (background)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Word count: 1,359

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“What d’you think that was about?” Pansy whispered to Draco at breakfast the next day.

    “Huh?” Draco responded confused, looking up at her. He had been too preoccupied by reading the eighth chapter of the book, deeming it safe in the Great Hall since no-one else could read it. Honestly, he was just too curious to not read it. He just got to a note when Pansy interrupted his reading.

    “That letter, don’t tell me you didn’t see it. Potter got his first letter a few seconds ago,” she pressed on.

    Draco hummed and read the note in the book. Then, remembering Pansy’s comment, his eyes widened as realisation dawned upon him. The note he had just read in the book was the same Potter had just received. He wanted to continue reading but Pansy started again.

    “Honestly,” she was saying, “I’m surprised you didn’t notice, you’ve been paying an awful lot of attention to Potter this first week.”

    Draco spluttered. “What are you talking about, Pans?” he asked trying to sound surprised, but failing miserably. The look in Pansy’s eyes told him she was right, and she knew it.

    Luckily for Draco, Pansy soon returned to her food so Draco could get back to reading the book, he did only have ten minutes left before he should leave for Potions.

    Draco was shocked as the book said he had to laugh about Potter not knowing a question from Snape. He secretly wished that wouldn’t happen, but he had a feeling it would, and that he would have to follow what the book said. He made a mental note to pay close attention to it and memorised a bit of the dialogue.

    Draco read about the afternoon and secretly wished he could follow them. Not to skip class, but just to see if the book spoke the truth, since he still didn’t really believe that.

    His opinion on it, though, changed quickly. As he sat in Potions, with the Gryffindors, Snape, just like the book had said, started with the register. Draco’s breath hitched as his godfather paused at a name he was sure of was Potter. And then, the words fell from his mouth.

    “Ah, yes,” Snape said, looking over at Potter, his voice slightly softer than before, “Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity.” Then, just as the book had said, Crabbe and Goyle started sniggering. Draco quickly joined in, as it was seemingly the book’s intention he did.

    Snape finished the register and called to the whole class, his voice a whisper, however, “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making...” Draco didn’t exactly listened to the rest as he read it all before either way, and only did as if he was listening.

    The lesson continued just as the book had written it, and Draco felt terrible when he had to do some things, like laughing if Potter didn’t know something. At times, he just wanted to scream at Snape that it wasn’t his fault he grew up with the most intolerant, annoying, horrible Muggles ever! but kept his cool, following the book’s every word.

    At lunch that day, Draco turned towards Pansy.

    “I won’t be in class the last period, could you take notes for me?” he asked her, praying she won’t ask why he was skipping class.

    “Okay?” she agreed, slightly questioning. But she didn’t pester him about it. Draco had a plan ready to get him out of there.

    About nearly two hours later, he was running through the corridors, off towards that Hagrid oaf’s shed at the end of the Forbidden Forest. He wondered why anyone would want to live there. There, he hid behind the house, the book opened on the correct page. It couldn’t be long until Potter and the Weasel would arrive.

    And indeed, it didn’t. A mere five minutes later, Draco heard voices nearing the hut. He payed close attention to any sentences said that were written in the book.

    “Back, Fang — back.”

    There it was, Draco hummed triumphantly. Although the prospect of the book knowing the future didn’t really bring him comfort. And he hated to admit it, but it actually made him kind of scared. He dismissed it and continued listening.

    “Hang on,” he heard that Hagrid say, “Back, Fang.” Draco waited a few seconds before he spoke up again, his voice muffled slightly as he guessed they were inside now. “Make yerselves at home.”

    “This is Ron,” he heard Potter say a few seconds later. Draco never really got the chance to listen to Potter’s voice, but for some reason, it calmed him.

    Draco had to wait maybe a full hour before something excited happened again. Potter continued talking about his first Potions lesson.

    “...and then he took another point from me. How could I know he’d been doing it wrong while I was focusing on my own potion?! I bet he just hates me.”

    “Don’ say that! Snape likes hardly any o’ the students!” Draco heard Hagrid answer him.

    “But he seems to really hate me,” Potter insisted.

    “Rubbish! Why should he?” Hagrid said, a few seconds later he continued, “How’s yer brother Charlie?” To Draco it seemed like he really wanted to change the subject, and that was enough for him. He focused his attention back on the book and read the article, perhaps at the same time as Potter seeing as only seconds after he’d finished, Potter spoke up.

    “Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might have been happening while we were there!”

    Hagrid only grunted and responded with, “Want another rock cake?”

    Draco thought he heard enough, as the book didn’t continue, and got up, making sure to not be seen by anyone from inside the hut.

    Several minutes later, he entered the common room to a disgruntled Pansy making her way over to him. “Finally, there you are! Mind explaining where you’ve been hiding?” she demanded. Draco couldn’t fail to notice the playful tone in her voice.

    “Business,” he answered, but gestured her to follow him.

    Draco was delighted to see the dormitory empty. He turned towards Pansy after she had closed the door behind her. “It had something to do with the book, okay?” he told her, hoping she’d understand.

    Luck seemed to be on his side that day because she sighed and muttered, “All right, I suppose it was important. I’ll go grab the notes.”

    Draco smiled. “Thanks, Pans!” he called after her. Draco was left alone in the dormitory and made everything ready to work at his desk.

    “Here.” She handed him the notes and sat down on his bed a minute later. “I also had to tell you from Flitwick that you had detention with him on Saturday, nine o’clock, his office,” she mentioned nonchalantly, spreading herself on Draco’s bed.

    Draco hummed in acknowledgement. “Is it okay if I finish my work on the book? Then we can hang out.”

    “All right,” Pansy gave in, “Can I stay here, though?” She smiled as Draco gave her a nod.

—————

An hour later, they went down to dinner together. They spend the rest of the day talking together, before they decided it was time to sleep, seeing as someone had a detention the next day for skipping class.

    Only late that night, Draco actually thought about what Pansy had said that morning. Had he really been giving him that much attention? Draco thought back on Astronomy. He recalled Potter smiling and laughing with his best friend without a care in the world.

    Draco couldn’t help the way his face heated up because of it. He figured it must have been because his laugh angered him. But he couldn’t keep his mind off of him until around one o’clock the next morning, when he finally decided it was way too late to be thinking about an unimportant Gryffindor. Maybe not really unimportant, just a Gryffindor...

—————

(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)