#detailing just how *weary* Merlin was of everything by the time the finale rolled around

[groundbreakingdot872]

You are a GENIUS for these, the brilliance of putting Midnights + Merlin together… your mind!!!! ✨

The only album I considered changing at all was, you might’ve guessed! haha, Speak Now and Arthur.

I’ve always thought of him as a Debut girlie that grew into her 1989 ERA from s4 to 5 - something about a 16 year old Taylor w/ a too-big acoustic guitar strung around her shoulders and a voice that could fill stadiums, filling parkling lots - just resonates w/ the crown prince Arthur grew into be.

The restless energy, the excitement of spurring on hunts and embarking on these tiny, gloriously thrilling quests, are all feelings that go hand in hand w/ becoming a beloved country starlet, I think.

“But when you think of Tim McGraw/ I hope you think of my favorite song/ The one we danced to all night long/ The moon like a spotlight on the Lake” - Tim McGraw

Bit of a generic example, but I can hear Arthur’s young, unbridled spirit in all of Debut, his eagerness to find love, make his father proud and learn to become better, all tied up in album closers that say the solution to all of those coming-of-age issues hadn’t been so easy to come to terms with after all..

“She better hold him tight/ Give him all the love/ Look in those beautiful eyes/ And know she’s lucky ‘cause/ He’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar” - Teardrops on my Guitar

20 year-old Arthur, face freshly stung from Uther’s bitter complaints about one thing or another, and having gotten the cold shoulder from Morgana for the umpteenth time, wishing things could just go back to the way it was when they were kids…

He wanders off alone on night on an overnight hunting trip, and finds a comfortable place to rest his head and gaze up the stars, and wonder, what on earth his destiny might have in store for him

I find it funny that a lyre! has been pointed out in the backdrop of his chambers, for quite a few episodes!

So you’re saying there was a chance he could’ve played Cold as You (my fav!!) on his actual ‘guitar’?! AJDHDJKSKS my Debut girlie 💗😭

The transition to 1989 would’ve been awe-inspiring,

‘Wonderland’ (vaguely referencing the dissolution of his friendship w/ Morgana), OUT OF THE WOODS ‼️ and How You Get the Girl (arwennnn my beloved 💗)

Generally an iconic album to celebrate Arthur’s Kingship in all of it’s chaotic (bleached blonde 👀) realness ✨

Core 4 & Their ✨Eras

aka my opinion so feel free to agree/disagree

Morgana: REPUTATION! I mean- come on. This one was obvious. Are you ready for it, don’t blame me, look what you made me do, I did something bad… those are all dark!morgana and then songs like gorgeous, dress, getaway car… dare I say morgwen? Even if not, there are some good!Morgana bangers in there

Merlin: MIDNIGHTS (less obvious maybe?) This album is all about regrets, grief, love… Merlin is a sleep deprived baby this is his era. Literally every song. I’m not going to list them I’m just going to say EVERY SONG and they all match to a different part of his life.

Gwen: LOVER! This was hard bc I think Gwen has so much growth over the seasons how can you define her by 1 TS era? She also suits Midnights, and imo fearless and red and folklore (folklore is also kind of a Merlin album btw). I think I’m the end it comes down to her compassion and love is there the whole way through, and lover encompasses quite a wide range of emotions and experiences that I think would suit.

Arthur: SPEAK NOW ok feel free to debate this one bc I actually have NO idea. I don’t think any one of them fit him perfectly (complex babygirl) so I chose speak now bc I think songs like haunted and long live suit him well and the general vibe of the album.

Tell me ur versions!

[fleetingpieces]

Everything we were CH 4

I was kinda waiting to post the chapters I already have for this fic, but work is keeping me hostage and I couldn’t finish MOIAM and I miss writing, so here ya go

Enjoy some marauders❤️

Special thanks to @knittingdreams for being such an amazing friend and beta❤️

Please check the tags for CW!

Masterlist ¦ Ao3

Chapter 4

“GRYFFINDOR!”

When the Hat announced that to the whole school, Sirius felt the blood leave his face. His thoughts were all jumbled. He had always felt a bit different than the rest of his family, and in the last few years he’d started drifting further and further away from them. But the Blacks had always been in Slytherin. Yes, he had thought about the possibility of this happening, and some part of him actually felt relieved, but it was still a shock to hear. His first reaction was to look up to the Slytherin table, smiling slightly at his cousin. When he saw Narcissa’s fuming glare however, his smile fell and he looked down. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the gryffindors erupted in a wild applause and cheer.

He quickly took the Hat off and walked to the table, feeling dumbstruck, until his eyes found James’ and the boy gave him a thumbs up with a happy grin. Sirius relaxed a fair amount after that, kind of enjoying the bemused faces smiling up at him as he took a place on the bench.

The red haired girl from the train, Evans, was the second student to be placed in Gryffindor. Sirius tried to make some space for her, given that they were now housemates, but as soon as the girl recognized him, she threw a pointed look his way and promptly ignored him. Sirius rolled his eyes. What a stuck up.

Then a boy named Remus Lupin got called to the front and sat down with the Hat, shifting nervously. After only one second, Sirius saw the boy’s body go completely still, his face turning awfully pale. He wondered what the Hat could be telling him. But then the boy got sorted into Gryffindor as well; he came to sit down next to Sirius in a dazed state similar to the one he himself had been in.

Two more girls were consecutively placed in their house. The gryffindors were almost howling at this point, but Lupin was looking down, not noticing anything around them, stuck in his own thoughts. So Sirius decided to take the initiative. They were going to spend basically 7 years together after all.

“Hello.”

He was faced with bright amber eyes, and it was only then that Sirius realized it was the lad from the station. The boy gave him an apprehensive once over, before his eyes stopped at the sleeves of his robes and stayed there. Sirius tilted his head as the silence dragged by. Then Lupin’s head snapped up and he replied shyly.

“Um, hi.”

Sirius smiled, somehow reminded of Regulus. He thought about something to say, but before he could come up with anything interesting, the students around him started cheering again, and a pudgy blond boy sat in front of them. Sirius suddenly thought of James and tried to locate him between the remaining students, finding him just as he was called over by Professor McGonagall.

When James put the Hat on his head, a sudden fear took hold of Sirius. What if James was sorted into another house? They had bonded so quickly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. They wouldn’t be able to spend much time together if they were in different houses, and what if Sirius couldn’t make other friends?

His thoughts were put at ease fairly quickly though, as James was sorted into Gryffindor as soon as his bum had touched the stool.

The rest of the evening was a breeze of happiness for Sirius, with just a little prick of doubt. He knew his family was a bit obsessed with the snake house and purebloods, but surely they wouldn’t hate him for this. He could still achieve great results at school even if he was a Gryffindor, and he’d never really liked Narcissa anyway, so she could just bugger off. His parents wouldn’t care, right? 

However, he forgot all about that uneasiness when they were guided through the castle to the common room, and he and James struck an animated conversation with Nearly Headless Nick. All in all, it was a great start of his school life.

 ***

 There was a draft coming from one of the windows of the big Charms classroom, making Remus shiver. He pulled at the sleeves of his jumper to cover his hands completely, the movement reminding him how uncomfortable he felt in his new uniform. He wasn’t used to clothes like this, most of his wardrobe at home was muggle. Jeans and sweatshirts were so much better than shirts, trousers and Merlin, that damned tie. How the hell was anyone able to make that thing look good and not a rumpled knot was beyond him. The only redeeming fact about the piece of clothing was whatever charm came with it. Remus had been surprised that morning before breakfast, when he’d gone through his trunk and found that his tie and the lines at the cuffs and neck of his jumper had changed from black to bright red and gold. He was faintly aware that he shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but he just couldn’t help but try to figure out which spell was used on the school uniforms.

A loud thump beside him made him look up.

“Man, how did you find the classroom so fast? I’ve been wandering around for ages with those bloody staircases and whatnot. Had to ask a prefect to help me!” Pettigrew ranted, noticing with a weary glance that he was the last one in, but he seemed relieved that the class hadn’t started yet.

Remus gave him a noncommittal hum. He had been avoiding the other boys as much as he could since the feast last night, which wasn’t easy given that apparently all four of them would be sharing a dorm together. It made things so much more complicated. Remus had to take special care to get changed in their private bathroom, he didn’t want any of them seeing his body.

Pettigrew opened his mouth to say something more, but then Professor Flitwick appeared behind the desk, standing on top of a pile of books that didn’t look too steady, if you asked Remus.

“Alright students, please take out your wands,” he said with a squeaky voice. “Today we are going to learn about the Levitation Charm. This charm is an excellent test of your magical skills, wand control, and above all, patience!”

Remus felt the excitement filling him up. Finally, he would be able to try his new wand! He hadn’t dared use it at his house, to risk giving the Ministry an excuse to visit them and find out about him. No, Remus had been very careful and had pushed down on his anxiety.

But now he could finally try his hand at some spells!

Looking up at the Professor with bright eyes, he listened carefully to the explanation, taking in every detail of the demonstration. He actually knew most of the theory already, as he had read about it while at home.

“Now, try it yourselves. Don’t forget to do the right wand movement!”

Remus looked at the big white feather in front of him. To keep the nervousness from showing, he gripped his wand tightly, feeling a warm sensation spreading to his fingers. The students around him were chanting the spell out loud, the swish of wands drifting through the air, whoops of joy when someone got it right.

It’s ok, calm down already, Remus thought to himself.

He squared his shoulders, flicked his wand once…and nothing happened. His eyebrows drew together as he tried again. Nothing. He could clearly hear other students had succeeded already, but his feather was as unmoving as it had been when he’d set it on top of the desk. Maybe he was doing something wrong? After a few more tries with the same result, Remus started panicking. Was he not good enough? Did he have zero magical skill?  Would the Headmaster realize he’d made a mistake and send him back home?

Then a darker, scarier thought crossed Remus’ mind. What if it had to do with him being a creature? Was he too much of a monster already that he couldn’t use magic anymore? His condition had taken so much from him already, that he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Remus was scared to look up, but if his lack of magic was a characteristic of his kind, he had to make sure that no other student had noticed. No one could know. Glancing around, he saw Pettigrew waving his wand frantically, sweat forming on his forehead, the white plume in front of him lying lazily on the table. With a tiny bit of hope, he noticed that quite a few students were still having problems, even if most of them seemed to have gotten at least some reaction from their feathers. Except from him and Pettigrew, that is. Apparently, they were the only ones not accomplishing anything.

Remus exhaled a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wasn’t a complete monster yet.

The teacher had said they would need patience, so he kept trying and trying, purposefully avoiding to look at Potter and Black, who were making their own quills clash around in the air while laughing. The theory was all in his head, the words and wand movement fresh in his memory, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the way magic was supposed to work. The practical part of it was completely new, he had no reference as to what it should be like, as he hadn’t had any way to practice this at home.

Just as the bell rang, Remus felt something clicking in his head. The feather made a turn in the air, making his heart skip a beat, and he smiled happily as it hovered shakily in front of his eyes.

“Merlin, at least you were able to do it in the end,” said Pettigrew with a bitter scowl.

The pudgy boy had only managed to make his quill toss and turn on the table top. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I think yours was taking off that last time.”

Pettigrew's face lit up a bit, and Remus wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Was that comment too friendly?

“Good on you, Lupin!” said a voice from behind them. Remus turned around to face Potter, who had Black sitting right next to him. “A lot of people don’t get it on the first lesson. At least that’s what my Dad said.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if they were making fun of him or not. All the other students were leaving already, the sound of shuffling feet on the hallways filling the air. So he gave Potter a small nod and hurried out as well, leaving the boys slightly stunned. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t know how else to interact with them. It would be better if he didn’t have to do that at all.

The first year gryffindors had some free time before lunch and, thinking about ways to keep himself busy, Remus decided to explore the castle a bit. It really was a pain to get around without getting lost, Remus had only found the classroom by following other students discreetly. He wanted to get acquainted with every hall and passage, and he really wanted to figure out the pattern of those bloody moving staircases. He’d nearly fallen five floors that morning when one of them started moving just as he was getting on.

Remus reached the hallway on the third floor, thinking about how nobody seemed to mention anything about the multiple dangerous things the school housed. Maybe that was why he’d been allowed to attend.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice there was something in his way until he bumped face first into it. Rubbing his nose and cursing under his breath, he looked up to find Avery, the bulky first year from Slytherin, looking down his nose at him.

“Watch where you’re going, you dirty scum.”

The boy was barely a few inches taller than him, but he was wide; his arms were probably three times the size of Remus’. His short dark hair was cut in a way that made his jaw look sharper and his brown eyes harder. Avery had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Remus like he was a piece of meat. Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

The situation reminded him an awful lot of some experiences he’d had with some neighbourhood kids when he and his family had lived in East Sussex. Avery seemed like the kind of mindless bully that would love to pick on Remus just because of his small and scrawny complexion. Those other kids had certainly enjoyed making him their preferred target. But it was precisely because of that, that Remus knew to keep an eye on his surroundings and scurry when necessary. So he went around Avery, muttering a half-hearted apology and trying to move along, but was soon stopped by another figure that came from behind the slytherin.

“What’s the problem here?” a tall boy with platinum hair drawled. Remus contained a whine and looked up, he’d almost gotten away. There was contempt in the bloke’s voice as he looked at Remus. “Who are you?”

Remus silently studied the blonde for a second. The way he held himself, like he was royalty, was similar to Black’s, but different at the same time. His robes were equally expensive, he had a green and silver tie, and a badge pinned to his chest. Of course he was a prefect. Remus had that kind of luck. There was something in the older boy’s pale blue eyes that was making Remus’ hairs stand on end; he looked like he could be trouble, the kind Remus was aiming to avoid as much as possible.

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin?” the prefect sneered. “I’ve heard about your father’s preferences. You are a half-blood.”

It wasn’t a question, so Remus didn’t deign to give him a reply. The way he’d said the last word though, as if it was rotten garbage in his mouth, had Remus frowning. What did that even mean? The bloke was making him nervous, and Remus tried not to shift in place. He didn’t want anyone looking at him that closely, let alone a prefect. No one could know.

“Um, who are you?” his voice sounded smaller than he would have liked, and Avery smirked as the prefect narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“Watch your mouth, boy. It’s Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. You’d do well to remember my name.”

As Malfoy took a step forward, a large group of students appeared around the corner, almost bumping into them when they filled the whole corridor. Remus decided to use that chance to get away before things could get worse, and as the students walked past he blended in with them and disappeared into another hallway. He’d learn to recognize when someone was best to avoid, and Malfoy was definitely someone he didn’t want to cross paths with more than necessary.

Remus walked fast, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, and went in the first room he could find. Closing the door behind him, he leaned into it and closed his eyes. It was his first day of school, and he’d already had to escape from some possible bullies. He wasn’t kidding himself, the kids from his old neighbourhood had no idea why Remus was so weird, but he knew the students at Hogwarts would be able to tell if he showed enough signs, if they saw his scars. He hoped running away hadn’t made things worse.

Sighing, Remus opened his eyes again and was stunned to see where he’d ended up in his haste.

Books.

Thousands of books, right in front of him, neatly organized on shelves. He glanced around with his mouth slightly open. Rows and rows of bookcases, going from one wall to the other, filled the room. There were only a handful of windows that filtered the morning light, giving the space a calm atmosphere. A few students were sitting on the tables scattered all over the big room, but everything was so very quiet; the only sounds were those of quills going over parchment and pages turning.

Remus walked ahead, his eyes glued to all those old volumes, until he reached the front desk and a woman with a deep scowl appeared in his line of sight.

“Are you lost?” she barked.

She was looking at him as if he didn’t belong there. Remus felt himself shrink under that look, but the temptation was too much to just let it slide.

“No, um…are we allowed to borrow any of these books?” He knew that his eyes were wide, probably making him look a bit insane, but he couldn’t erase the expression from his face. To his surprise, the woman’s glare dimmed a little bit. Not enough to make her look less scary though.

“You can borrow any book, except for those on the Restricted Section.” She pointed to the back of the library, where a rope separated some books from the rest. “You’ll need a signed note from a teacher to have one of those checked out. The other books you can read here or take out of the library, if you get my permission first. But I warn you, if you tear, fold, smear or damage these books in any way, the consequences will be quite severe.”

She fixed him with a stern look, and Remus smiled shyly.

“I will be very careful, I promise.”

The librarian looked mildly surprised, but Remus wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He was staring in awe at all the knowledge sitting in the room, waiting for him to dig into it. The charm they’d learned that morning had been harder than he’d expected, but he was pretty sure he had figured it out now. Maybe he could find a corner of the library to tuck himself away and practice some more. He could even find out which spells they would be learning, and try to learn them ahead of time to avoid himself more embarrassment. Remus hoped that if he practiced enough, he would be able to understand magic better and struggle less. Smiling to himself, he set off to explore the tall shelves.

[malfoii]

Malfoy x Reader Pt 2

Description: Malfoy loses a Quidditch tournament, and doesn’t react too well, especially when it’s Potter than wins. Luckily, for once, he has someone there to support him

Malfoy x (Fem!)Reader

Warnings: A couple of cuss words, but other than that not really

Masterlist

Pt 1

“I’ve always been curious,” (y/n) says, as she moves her bishop forwards. “Which house would be best at Chess?

“Can’t be Hufflepuff, they’re sweet, but complete push-overs. And it can’t be Gryffindor - I love them, but they have the patience of a goldfish.”

This earns a chuckle from Malfoy as he contemplates his turn. “I think it’d clearly be Slytherine. They have the greatest understanding of how other people work - I can predict your next five moves just by looking at you.” He smirks, and slides the bishop across the board. “Check.”

“And yet -” you smirk, “Aren’t we Ravenclaw known for our mastery of tact and strategy?”

 Malfoy lifts his head up to look at her, until their eyes lock together. (Y/n) can feel her breath becoming shallow, her heartbeat speed up. He really does have the most pretty eyes. 

  For a while, neither of them dare look away, nor break the silence between them. A slow tension brews, a mixture of quiet competition and mutual fascination. 

  Finally, it is (y/n) that looks away first, turning her attention back to the board. “Checkmate.” She captures Malfoy’s king, and plucks it off the board.

  Malfoy blinks for a second in shock, staring at his chess pieces as if he can’t quite accept that he lost. Then, gradually, his brows furrow and his face scrunches up into a knot. “Hey. You cheated!” 

  Indeed, during the time he was distracted, the pieces seemed to have completely changed position. As if by magic. 

  (Y/n) shrugs innocently. “You call it cheating, I call it strategy. Tomato, tomato.”

  He shakes his head in disbelief. “And I thought that Slytherine were supposed to be the snakes.”

  She laughs, wagging the fallen king in his face. “Hiss hiss, bitch.”

  The time is just now reaching 6am, and the orange glow of sun’s first rays begin to filter through the blinds, falling upon the sleepy pair. Draco’s hair catches the light perfectly, trapping it between the webs of wispy blond threads, giving the illusion of a halo above his head. A flop of it falls over his sleep-dead eye, and he wipes it away, yawning. It has been an odd and surreal night, comprised of chess, debating whether or not Professor Snape vaguely resembles a horse, and making lame jokes that are, for some reason, hilarious at 4am. Malfoy pinches himself to make sure it wasn’t just some inexplicable fever dream. 

But no. This is real, apparently, and so is she - this absolutely baffling, peculiar, bizarre Ravenclaw girl - that quite literally fell out of the sky. 

Well. 

As if the weight of her tiredness comes crashing down suddenly and all at once, (Y/n)’s head lolls to the side, hitting the sofa cushion behind her. Lids, heavy with lack of sleep, seem to sag. “Hey Malfoy,” - yawn - “Kids are gonna start waking up soon. No offense, but I don’t really want to explain why I snuck in a boy at unworldly hours of the night.”

  Taking the hint, Draco nods and stands to leave, mumbling a spell as he does so. The chess board cleans itself up, the blankets refold themselves, and the mugs - stained with the residue of hot coacoa - fly themselves into the sink. 

  “Where should I put...” Draco trails off, as he realizes that she’s fallen completely asleep, her face collapsed downwards into the couch. With a sigh, he bends down, awkwardly slipping his hands beneath her and lifting her off the floor. 

  Her eyes flutter open, and half-asleep, she mumbles, “At least buy me dinner first, Draco,”

  “Oh shut up.” He drops her onto the sofa with a soft thump. She laughs weakly, rolls over and falls back asleep. Once again, he makes his way to leave the dormitory, reaching as far as the door. With his hand on the knob, he stops, hesitating, and turns back around. “(Y/n)?”

  “Mmfpgh?”

  “Uh.” He pauses for a while, and coughs. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” 

  “Is that a promise?” she coons, raising her head ever so slightly to glance over at him. “Hopefully not at 3am next time.”

  “Yes,” he smirks. “Hopefully.”

  “Oh, good.” sinking back into the couch, she lets her eyes fall shut. “Good night, Draco.”

  “Good night, (Y/n).”

  Tired and weary, Draco makes the slow shuffle back to the Slytherine dormitory. After weeks of nothing but bloody nightmares, this has been, he thinks to himself, the best night he’s had in a very long time. 

As hoped for by both parties of the transaction, the time is not 3am the next time that they meet. In fact, it’s less than twelve hours later, when the clock is striking a quarter past two. 

  Actually, it’s 1:58 when Draco first spots her - fully clad in Ravenclaw paraphilia, giddily jumping up and down amongst the crowds of spectators, waving her blue flag. He only manages to catch a brief glimpse as he whizzes on by - but yes, he’s certain that it’s her. Nobody else could possibly manage to look so completely idiotic. 

  It’s actually kind of cute. 

  Shit! A bludger grazes the skin of his left arm, snapping Draco out of his daydream. “Wha’ssa matter, Malfoy?” one of the Weasley twins darts past, laughing. “You dozing off now? What’s Daddy gonna say when he hears about this?”

  All good humor now gone, Malfoy’s face contorts into a scowl as he leans forwards, readjusting his grip on the broom. He scans the ground. A flash of gold weaves in and out from below the players. He’s found it. 

  Malfoy twists the nose of his stick, kicks his legs backwards - and with that, the broom dives angrily towards the face of the earth. In a streak of green robe and platinum hair, the boy hurtles downwards like a hawk upon its prey. The cold wind strikes his cheeks, it digs into his flesh and whistles by his ears, forcing tears to rise at the eyes. Draco can feel his stomach in his throat, he can feel the sting of sailing debris fast against his arms - more than anything, he can see the hard and unforgiving ground, speeding towards him at an alarming rate -

Even so, Malfoy does not stop. Cannot stop. He cannot afford to lose again - Not when he’s so close, when the snitch is just an arm’s length away - 

And then -

And then - 

And then the world comes to a halt - time seems to stop - the crowds are roaring -

The crowds are roaring - but not for Malfoy, no. 

With a cry, Malfoy crashes into the soil, head first. His body sprawls across the field, where he lands on his back, too stunned to move. Instead, he stares aimlessly up at the sky. 

Potter. At the very last second, he had overtaken Malfoy, if only by a hairbreadth. And in that very same second, he had grabbed the snitch right out of the air. 

Malfoy groans, and rubs his head - He had been so close this time. His fingers were mere centimeters from the golden sphere. And yet, he had closed upon nothing. Gryffindor wins again. Big surprise. 

Mud, cold and wet, fondles the bare of his neck and stains his blond hair brown. Some of it seeps into the fabric of Malfoy’s robes, stinging his spine and forcing his bones to become frigid. All the while, a dull ache throbs throughout the entirety of his body, lighting his limbs on fire. 

Faraway, Malfoy can hear the sound of Slytherine, a cacophony of puce curses and bitter insults. 

Even more distant - and even more annoying - is the sound of Gryffindor, their obnoxious cheers ringing loudly into the air. Joining them are the victory chants of both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff alike, both just excited to see Slytherine knocked out of the competition. For Ravenclaw, it means their spot secured in the finals. 

With a sigh of defeat, Malfoy lets himself sink into the hard ground, and watches the clouds pass above. The feverish noises of the crowds gets fainter and fainter as they begin to leave the field, all 200 students moving together in one great throng of collective joy and excitement. Among them, Malfoy thinks, is (Y/n), caught up in the triumph of the moment. He can imagine, with perfect clarity, the delight on her face as she’s walking away, the bubbly laugh, the way that her eyes light up with glee. He can imagine, too, the way that she looks at Harry - the way that all of the girls, here at Hogwarts, look at Harry - a look of both admiration, and warm endearment. And when he starts talking to her? Malfoy can already hear the shyness of her voice, the lilt of her laugh, the giddiness underlying her giggle. He can see the blush of her cheeks as she looks down towards her feet, tucks her hair nervously behind her ear, the way that she absolutely swoons. Everything is so clear and so detailed in Malfoy’s head - in fact, he’d be surprised if it hadn’t already happened while he was down. 

As this singular scenario plays itself over and over again, Draco lies flat on the grass for what feels like hours. Wind rustles through the foliage, clouds continue to shift, his flesh continues to bruise and Malfoy continues to wallow in self-pity.

It is now approximately 2:14pm, and Malfoy has been laying in a crumpled heap for about twenty minutes (although to Draco’s mind, it feels as if an eternity has passed since he fell).

At 2:15 exactly, a dark shadow falls across the length of Draco’s body. Startled, his eyes flick upwards, half expecting to see Snape’s blurry silhouette, face full of pity. 

Instead, he’s met with a much more welcome surprise. “(Y/n)?”

She hovers above him, stood on the edge of her heels. The Ravenclaw paraphilia is now gone, and she stands in nothing but her school blazer and skirt. “You, uh, forgot this,” she mumbles, holding up his broom for him to see. “I found it in the bushes.”

He stays silent, so she whisks him to his feet with a wave of her wand. “By the way,” she grins, “You were amazing out there! You were so graceful, it reminded me of, like, a bird - a hawk, or an egret, or something. And the way that you flew - Merlin’s beard, Malfoy - my heart was in my mouth the whole time, I was so scared! You had me on the edge of my seat, I could barely breathe!”

She looks at him in absolute wonderment. “You were incredible!”

Malfoy stands gaping. Suspiciously, he scans her expression, searching for any hints of sarcasm.

When he finds none, he snorts and snatches the broom out of her hands. “For someone so smart, I thought you’d figure out how the game works by now.”

“I - what?” (Y/n) frowns in confusion, and chases after him. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t anyone explain this to you?” he jerks his broom in irritation, and the debris flies outwards. “Whichever team catches the Snitch first gets a hundred and fifty points, ending the game. Potter caught the snitch this time, so he won. I lost. Do you get it now?” he huffs.

In response, her arms fold over and her face shifts into a scowl. “I’m not stupid, Malfoy. I can see that. I just wanted to tell you how well you played.” Her face softens, and she forces a smile. “It doesn’t matter if you lost, Malfoy, it was still awesome to see you flying all the same. I wish I could do all of that stuff.”

With a sneer, Malfoy turns away. “Don’t be so dense, (Y/n). I didn’t play well. If I did, then Potter wouldn’t have won the game. Stop jabbering, it’s making you sound stupid and giving me a headache.”

(Y/n) watches in stunned silence, mouth almost agape as the boy before her transforms suddenly into the horrible little sleazebag that she had been warned of in the first place. Her face starts to burn red, both with the humiliation of having liked him so well, and with resentment at being spoken to so poorly. “Well, fine then!” she cries. “Besides, I only came over here to ask you as my plus one to the party tonight - Harry just invited me, said it’s going to be great, but if you’re going to be such an arsehole, then forget about it!”

At the mention of Harry’s name, Malfoy snaps. He whirls on her, his face turned a whole new shade of color, the veins bulging at his temples. “As if I would want to go to Potter’s stupid celebration anyways! I don’t need your pity party, (Y/n), okay? Do you understand?” 

Hot beads of indignation break out against the flush (Y/n)’s neck, and she can feel her fists clenching into themselves. This is what she gets, for ignoring her friends’ warnings. “Have it your way, Malfoy. Be alone if you want, see if I care.”

And then she’s gone, storming off towards the school building, scarf flapping  behind her.

Malfoy opens his mouth, closes it again, and watches, as she leaves. Pushing a hand through his muss of mud-filthed hair, he kicks dejectedly at his broom. “For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy!” he cries to himself, dropping the broom. What the fuck is wrong with me? He turns to start running after her, but it’s too late - she’s already long out of sight. 

“Malfoy, you're brilliant, but you’re also an idiot.” Draco jumps at the sudden voice, whipping his head around. “You are going to fix this, aren’t you?”

Professor Snape watches from the bleachers, eyebrow cocked, the beginnings of a coy smile at his lips. 

“I, uh,” Malfoy stutters, moving to pick up his broom. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, professor. Were you - were you there the whole time?”

“Long enough,” he chuckles. Draco does a double-take. Snape, laughing? “Malfoy, I’m not the kind to be giving advice like this, or meddling in affairs that are not my own. But you’ve been my pupil for a number of years now, and I feel that I owe it to at least advise you this: If you give up on that girl now, when you’re so clearly infatuated, I can promise that you’ll regret it for as long as you live.” His eyes narrow, and his mouth quirks up. “Besides, don’t tell me that Potter’s going to beat you again?”

Malfoy says nothing, and makes his way to leave. “Um, thanks professor.”

"One more thing, Draco.” As Malfoy turns around, Snape’s face turns sober. “It is not my place to be telling you this, but I have a sinking premonition that in the weeks to come, you’ll be needing the comfort of a friend. And, no, Crabbe and Goyle do not count.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Malfoy nods his head quickly. “Thank you professor. Again.”