#dramione is on very very thin ice

[inkyarcturus]

While I’m not usually one to bash what people ship as at the end of the day, all these characters are in fact fictional, I have a very specific feeling towards those who ship Dramione or Snamione… now I’m not saying that it’s hate…but, it is adjacent shall we say

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Drabble 30

I worked on altering a scene from one of the past drabbles and adding some in between the others. It will all eventually be up on AO3 but for now, we're reintroduced to Pansy. And I know so many people love Neville and Pansy but I salivate at the idea of a dysfunctional Pansy and Theo.

Pansy took a slow, long sip from her glass as they came closer. Close enough for her to note the two pairs of pale blue eyes staring back at her.

“Can someone tell me,” She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow and lowered the glass from her lips. “Why Grangers eyes are suddenly the exact same color as Draco’s?”

Behind Pansy’s house was a large pond that was surrounded by tall brush, and the sound of frogs croaking and calling out for a mate. Behind that was a line of trees and Theo was certain that this entire property wasn’t marked on any map as being anything more than a marsh or some preserved piece of wildlife.

The frogs never stopped croaking, begging to fuck. They never stopped trying to procreate.

Draco seemed to be thinking something along the same lines, because as they settled themselves at the outdoor table, he eyed the pond and said, “We’re just bags of meat and blood.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Pansy frowned, stretching her feet out to settle on top of Theo’s lap.

“All of us, even the frogs.” He nodded toward the pond.

Hermione was staring at Draco with intrigue, her bottle of beer nestled between her thighs. Warming the liquid with the heat of her body. Draco’s fingers were spooled into her hair, his arm thrown against the back of her chair while he swirled the bourbon inside of his glass. Ice clinked against the edges and it added to the cacophony of sound echoing against the trees and sky.

Frogs could be incredibly noisy and obnoxious.

“But they don’t murder or pillage. They don’t manipulate or make love. They don’t fight or try to rule the world. They just want to survive.”

“Why do you think that is?” Theo asked, lifting an unlit cigarette to his lips. “Why are we so different?” He lit the cigarette with the tip of his wand and squinted at Draco through the smoke as he puffed and puffed.

“I think it’s because we have a soul.”

Hermione pursed her lips and tilted her head. “We don’t know that the frogs don’t have a soul. There’s no way to prove that.”

Draco chuckled and tugged gently at her curls, forcing her chin to tilt up toward him. “Have you ever been in a house haunted by dead frogs?”

Her eyelids grew heavy, despite the scowl on her face. “How do we know the frogs we’re hearing now aren’t spirits?” She countered, her voice lower.

“What?” Theo laughed and Pansy huffed out a sigh of irritation. Theo wrapped his fingers around her bare foot and began to knead them into her arch.

“Can you see the frogs?” She turned to look at Theo, her head still tilted up with the hold Draco kept on her.

“No, but it’s dark out.” He shrugged.

Hermione looked at Pansy. “Do you see them during the day?”

Pansy’s mouth pressed into a thin line as she scrutinized Granger and her new ghostly eyes. “Not usually. Most of them stay very well hidden.”

“They’re mindless, soulless creatures, love.” Draco murmured, pulling her attention back to him. “They wouldn’t kill for each other. In fact, if a water moccasin swam up and grabbed hold of one right now, the other idiot frogs would just sit back and let it happen. They have no loyalty. They’d hop away and keep searching for food or another frog to fuck. And not because it feels good but, because they’re just preprogrammed to procreate. They’re robotic. Soulless, heartless little creatures.”

“What,” Pansy drawled as she shoved her other foot into Theo’s grasp. “The fuck does this have to with Grangers eyes??”

Theo snorted and lifted the cigarette back to his lips.

“It has everything to do with it, Pans.” Draco shrugged, his eyes on Hermione’s face. His tongue slid along his lower lip.

“Stop eye fucking her and tell me what you did.” Pansy growled. Always the mother hen, always protective of her little chicks.

Theo lifted her foot and kissed the top of it, a kiss full of reverence. Tenderness, heat, passion poured from his lips to her skin.

Her eyes shifted to Theo, a flash of heat and a look of warning all wrapped up into one quick glance.

“I did what I had to.” Draco huffed. “You would have done the same.” He shot a pointed look over at Theo.

“And what is that? What has you talking about dead frogs and their mindless fucking? What has you holding onto Granger like she might bolt from you if you let go?”

Hermione lifted a brow, clearly amused. Her finger was circling the opening of her bottle, round and round. But she looked comfortable to be having Draco clinging onto her.

“I put a piece of my soul into her.” He finally said with a shrug. He glossed over it with such remarkable ease that anyone else would have scoffed or shrugged it off as more Malfoy nonsense.

But not Pansy.

The air went still around them, her eyes burned with rage, transforming the cool warmth of her usual brown eyes into dark obsidian orbs.

“You did what?” Her hair swayed as her head jerked to focus in on Hermione. Then back to Draco. Her eyes narrowed, her face pinching into that angry little number it did when she wanted to hit one of them. Theo might have been a little envious of Draco’s position. “Do you think this is a joke?”

Hermione shifted and Draco’s hand fell limp in her hair, but refused to withdraw. He took a drink from his glass, most of the ice melted, diluting his drink.

“Are you trying to get thrown into Azkaban?”

“No.” He replied slowly as his features shifted into something bored and cool. “I was trying to bring her back to life.”

He glanced down at Hermione, their eyes meeting for a heated moment. Just a quick second but Theo saw it. Hermione was still angry and scared but she was too attached to Draco. Too wrapped up in him.

“And, it worked.” He added, his gaze meeting Pansy’s.

Pansy pulled her foot out of Theo’s lap and leaned forward in her chair, hands pressing into the table. “You think someone wont find out? Look at her!”

Draco rolled his eyes and lifted the glass back to his mouth.

“She has your fucking eyes, Draco. Those two boys who follow her around like dogs are going to figure it out.”

“I am the only dog following her around.” Draco said as Hermione said, “Don’t worry about Harry.” She finally lifted that warm bottle to her mouth and took a sip. Theo smirked when she winced at the taste. Smiled when she doubled down and took a long drink to wash it away.

“Potter is just going to accept that his best friend is a fucking horcrux? Oh, right, because he loves those, doesn’t he?” Pansy hissed at Hermione.

“Harry will never turn his back on me.”

Draco fought his scowl at the ferocity in her words, the fire in her eyes.

“And what about your fiancé?”

Hermione’s cheeks flared bright red, Draco’s face darkened, his eyes falling dead.

“Don’t bring him up, Pans.”

“I bet he already suspects something.” Pansy glanced to Hermione and smirked, triumphant when she beheld a flicker of doubt in the witches eyes. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“So what?” Draco asked.

“So what? He hates you! He’ll rat you out.”

Hermione’s lips pressed together, her eyebrows drawn tight. Theo thinks that maybe she agreed with Pansy.

“Then, I’ll kill him.”

“Malfoy!” Hermione scolded him.

But he was glaring at Pansy, challenging her. She would support him or he would walk away. That was what he was silently conveying.

Theo cleared his throat and flicked his cigarette to the ground. “I think we’re forgetting what’s really important here, guys.”

Draco and Pansy both reluctantly dragged their eyes to Theo. Hermione was staring up at Draco with concern knitted into her brows.

“And what is that, Theo?” Draco drawled, though his jaw was still tight and tense.

“The fact that someone is trying to kill you, of course.”

“Wait, what!” Pansy’s anger melted off of Draco and shifted into concern.

Draco sighed and relaxed into his seat. “Don’t worry about that.” He tapped his finger against his glass, he pulled Hermione in and placed a kiss to her temple before he released her and stood.

“What do you mean, don’t worry about that? That’s going to be the only thing I worry about, now.” Pansy looked at Hermione. “How serious is this?”

Hermione sniffed. “Very. We’ve been ambushed three times already.” She tilted her head and considered something. “I wasn’t supposed to be on that call in Surrey. I think whoever attacked me was instructed to kill the Auror who responded and well, I was the one he saw, wasn’t he?”

Draco turned his head, and looked away. He blamed himself. Through the anger and possessive shit, Theo could see the guilt that plagued him. Because she wouldn’t have died if he hadn't begged her to join him. He wouldn’t have turned her into a horcrux, she wouldn't have been killed anyone for him.

She’d still be with Weasley.

But Theo didn’t think Hermione regretted leaving Weasley. He was cheating on her, after all. But the entire situation did beg one to consider the idea that perhaps she wasn’t completely acting of her own free will.

Which is what made the horcrux thing so worrisome. Nobody knew enough about it. Nobody except for Potter.

“You’re saying that somebody in the DMLE is trying to kill Draco?”

“Yes.” Hermione nodded, glancing up at Draco. Draco who was still glaring off into the distance. Into the ghostly racket of the frogs and crickets and any other spirits who clung to the night for dear life.

“What do we plan on doing about it, exactly?” Pansy was asking Draco but Draco was lost. And it was Hermione who replied.

Her voice was soft, too sweet to be uttering the words that would surely be running through the mind of Draco Malfoy and not Hermione Granger.

“We end them.”

[draqo-pctter]

we’re on a break a dramione microfic/ words 709 tags: they were on a “break”, hermione saves draco from himself at the bar, not quite fluff, not quite angst prompt taken from dramioneprompts on twitter

-

Draco drummed his hands on the bar top as he scanned the room, looking for the least atrocious way to pass the evening. He was surrounded on all sides by redheads and blondes, all of their hair too straight or too contained to catch his attention for longer than a moment. 

“Here you are,” said the bartender as he set a glass of firewhiskey on ice down on a napkin. “That’ll be-“

Draco slid two galleons across the table to the bartender whose eyes widened in shock. 

“Keep the change.”

The bartender took the change and smiled. 

“Next round is on the house.”

That was how every night that week had gone for Draco. Finding a new pub – this one called The Three Chalices – and searching for a woman who might ease the tightness in his chest even a little bit. Even for a minute. 

“Draco.”

He didn’t have to turn around to know who had materialized beside him, her berry-toned lips pressed into a thin line. He took a sip of his drink and scanned the room again, refusing to make eye-contact. 

“Hermione.”

She was staring at him with an intensity Draco had so desperately missed. It had been six days since their fight. Six days since the last time he kissed her, or held her, or even got to consider what it would be like to sign the final papers for the London townhome they were supposed to move into. Together. As a couple. Very much in love. 

“This is what you’re doing now?” Hermione asked. Draco knew that her eyebrow was raised without looking. He couldn’t look. If he looked, he would collapse at her feet and beg forgiveness for something he hadn’t even done. “Picking up random women in bars on a Thursday night?”

“And Friday through Wednesday,” he said, taking another sip. “We’re on a break, love. I can do what I want.”

Draco could feel her thinking, choosing her next words carefully. A redhead in a tight red dress made eye-contact with him from across the bar. When he winked, she winked back. 

“If this is what you want–”

The redhead whispered something in her friend’s ear before turning back to him. Draco could see it in her eyes that he had her. All he had to do was decide that this was the night he’d finally let another set of hands touch him for the first time in three years. 

“What I want,” Draco said, finally turning to face Hermione. “Is to be falling asleep back at your flat with you beside me and Crooks at our feet. To wake up tomorrow and look at you and know that my future is something I can look forward to, and enjoy. Not,” he gestured vaguely around the bar, “This.”

Hermione’s eyes were narrowed, her cheeks flushed, and chest rising and falling rapidly. Draco could see every emotion and thought flying across her eyes like headlines in the Daily Prophet. The redhead got out of her seat and Draco watched her approach from the corner of his eye. 

She didn’t have eyes as beautiful as Hermione’s. Or shoulders as strong, or lips as soft. Draco knew her voice wouldn’t be as melodic either; most likely, it would sound like nails on a chalkboard, scratching against his brain like every bad decision he’d ever made. 

The redhead was beside them now, her hand touching his arm. Draco wanted to explode beneath the pressure of how badly he wanted Hermione to do anything. To say anything. 

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, using that fake sing-song tone women used when they thought it made them sound seductive. 

In truth, the only thing seducing Draco was the look of disgust that had crept its way onto Hermione’s face. 

“We were just leaving,” Hermione said. She reached for Draco’s glass and finished the double shot in one swift gulp. Then, she grabbed his hand and began to tug him toward the door.

“And where are ‘we’ going?” Draco asked, his heart hammering away in his chest. 

“Back to my place,” Hermione said as they stepped out onto the street. Draco couldn’t help but smile to himself as the familiar pull of being apparated tugged at his stomach. 

-

follow me on twitter where i post other dramione ramblings & updates on my wips on archive of our own

[writersdreamermind]

A Selcouth Winter

Chapter 4 is now up! 

Paring(s): Dramione, LoveNott, Hinny

Rating: T

Word Count:  19117

Chapters: 4/? 

Read on AO3

And I’m also now on FF.net so please check out my stuff there too! 

Continue being excellent to each other. 

A Selcouth Winter 

Chapter 4: Guilt

It wasn’t until Draco flung open the common room door and fell into the nearest chair that he realized how unnervingly close that had been.

He hadn’t expected Lovegood to be that on point – Merlin knew he had enough people snooping about in his life without having some dotty Ravenclaw sticking her nose in as well.

Draco sighed, running a hand through his pale, blond hair – sometimes life here was too much like a trial to sometimes even contemplate getting up in the morning. Ever since Voldemort had taken to using Malfoy Manor as a base for all the dark, unmentionable things he considered and probably would commit, things had been getting tenser by the minute. If not for the fact that he could come to Hogwarts each year to at least partially escape everything, Draco had no doubt he’d feel like he was drowning alive.

He supposed, in a way, he already felt like that. Like some rope had knotted itself around his neck, getting tighter and tighter the more he tried to ignore the reality of where he stood, and that terrified him; it shook him to deep places in his soul that he hadn’t even been aware existed.

If the rope got any tighter, he’d choke.

And now, with all that on his shoulders, suddenly all that seemed to permeate his thoughts – dominate them so much that he could barely sleep without seeing her – was Granger, her hair and her scowl and notorious lip-biting as she furiously searched for an answer to yet another stupid question, Draco becoming far too aware of the young witch, near strangling himself as he tried to simultaneously not think of her, and just get up and push her against some wall, demanding she leave his head immediately.  

And yet…

There was something about her that made him feel like he could still try – even just a little bit – to be a better person, and choose the right path; the right key to the right door, and decide that enough was enough, and he was through with being clawed back by the darkness.

His head always screamed at him that any more fantasies like that, and he really would end up dead.

Groaning, he let his head settle back on the chair, ripping off his tie and letting it slip from his fingers to the ground, pooling at the foot of the chair. It was fittingly upholstered in charcoal grey and forest green stripes – inherently, darkly elegant – but everything in this common room was more like home than his actual one. The high, latticed windows looked out into the depths of Hogwarts Lake, giving off the eerie, but calming, green hue of the water, fish or even the Giant Squid slowly moving past, tentacles almost delicate as it paid little attention to anything. The lanterns, the dark atmosphere – it was quiet, tranquil; a place to think. Draco needed to think these days, and more often than not, try to fall asleep in places that helped him think of nothing but empty spaces.

And try not to think of the screams that he sometimes heard downstairs at the Manor, no matter how far he pulled the cover up over his head.

He shivered, unnaturally cold, huddling into his arms, wafer-thin shirt too close in shade to the pallor of his skin.

It truly did feel like a shipwreck in here, surrounded by water and cool stone and wooden tables and ancient furniture.

Maybe he had been meant to drown all along.

Draco turned his head away from the crook of the chair, turning to look out at the common room again. It was a tall room, by most standards – pillars that towered above the students, standing guard by the windows as they held up the ceiling, the mantle looking almost as proud as those insufferable Lions huddled up in that odious Gryffindor Tower. He didn’t so much dislike the idea of looking out into the grounds, and up into the sky - watching as the sky changed its mood too often as the seasons came and went - but more to do with the people who resided in it.

Except, of course, that’s where a Princess was supposed to be, right?

Trapped in her tower? Looking to the ground to see when her knight would come?

Draco scoffed, looking up at the ceiling again. He could hardly imagine Granger ever needing being saved from anything – she was too stubborn for that.

Behind him, Draco heard the familiar groan of the stone wall receding as a new occupant entered into the common room, clearly having had enough of the feast as well.

Probably Theo, considering how he’d looked ready to bolt the last time Draco had seen him, with Lovegood pressed up at his side, looking even more insane than before.

Draco nibbled his lip in annoyance – he still had to give her credit though: Merlin, she knew a thing or two about people. He still couldn’t get how she’d even managed to get so close to the truth so quickly. Was he really being so vulnerable and bare?

Deciding to ask Theo, since he was already here to give him the blunt advice he needed, Draco lifted himself out of the chair slowly.

“Nott, if that’s you, I have a question about-“

Looking up, Draco realised two things:

One: That was most definitely not Theo.

Two: Shit, this was bad.

Instead of his friend – probably best friend, if Draco wasn’t so conceited to consider admitting that – coming through the porthole, it was Pansy Parkinson, still looking as murderous as ever, no matter the weather, black hair too sharp for her face. Draco didn’t fancy her as ugly, per se – Theo did, but then Theo would rather have strung her guts up around the ceiling and did a merry dance around the common room. She wasn’t so much pug-faced as more sinister, sharp, crude features making her look both dead and very ill at the same time, as if she couldn’t decide what she preferred being. Although she wasn’t pretty, there was a certain quality about her – Draco didn’t know what to call it; perhaps rawness was the word – that made her very striking. And with the thick line of eyeliner on her top lid, and lips curled in a permanent sneer, the ruby red shaded a dark plum in the dim light, she was forcefully, powerfully recognizable, even if it wasn’t a face that did her many favours otherwise.

One look at Draco, and her sneer melted into an open mouthed smile, eyes becoming misty with addiction.

Draco grimaced. Merlin, here we go.

“Parkinson, I haven’t the mind to talk to you tonight, so just piss off to some corner, alright?”

Pansy pouted in annoyance, sidling up to him as Draco scrambled (at least, as inconspicuously as he could manage) for purchase on one of the chairs across the room, feeling too bewildered and dazed and infused with the sight and smell of toffee, and the girl whose head looked like coffee swirls and caramel, voice too loud and face too proud to be a Slytherin, but perfect to be a lion,

And perfect to intoxicate him with her very presence.

Draco shook his head, dragging a lithe hand through his hair again, now looking so rumpled it was like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, but Draco, come on, you’ve been like this since the start of the year-“

“Have I?” he snapped, whirling his read around to look at her, infusing as much rage into his stare as he thought he could get away with. With Parkinson? Probably not much, but just enough to make his point known.

“I don’t know, Pansy, is my life being overtaken by dark forces not a good enough excuse to be in a bad mood?”

Pansy breathed in through her nose, making him realize too late that she was already angry enough without tempting her to do something she’d regret.

“Draco, stop being such a child!”

“I’m not being a child, Parkinson, I’m being honest with myself!”

Pansy stormed over to him, hand grabbing his arm painfully.

“You’ve become such a shell of yourself, you’re hardly you anymore,”

Draco sneered down at her, wrenching his arm free.

“I suppose you much preferred it when I lorded it over you and sucked up your praise like some idiot, then?”

Now it was Pansy’s turn to sneer.

“I preferred it when you actually gave a damn about me!”

“Well, tough luck, Parkinson! I’m past you and your stupid games! Honestly, if you expected me to be fixated on gaining your attention for the rest of my life, what a truly awful mess we’d be in then!”

For a moment, she seemed genuinely shocked by his words, like he’d suddenly sliced her cheek with a knife, the blood fresh on her skin, but suddenly her lips were parted and her voice had become husky, and suddenly Draco was more wary of her than he’d ever been in his life.

“Maybe you wouldn’t dislike me so much if you knew what it was like,”

It wasn’t a question.

“If I knew what was what, Parkin -”

And then, she’d taken his face in her hands, ice cold against his already icy skin, and suddenly her lips were against his and he was thrown into a state of abhorrence, confusion and hormone-riddled anxiety, not sure what he ought to be doing.

And then this other feeling.

This raging, tormenting, fierce burn in his chest that told him this was all wrong, all of it, and that he wanted anything but this, at any point in his life.

Draco didn’t know how long it lasted, but made the effort to end it as quickly as he thought he could manage, wrenching her hands from off of his face, pulling away forcefully, ignoring Pansy’s flushed cheeks and the searing tinge of her still left on his mouth, and how he didn’t care if she saw him wipe away the remnants of it ever happening with the back of his hand. To let her see the disgust and hatred in his eyes.

“The hell, Parkinson?!”

Pansy looked probably more shocked than upset, staring at him like she’d never seen him before. Given the amount of crazy things going on around here, the majority of them in Draco’s head, he didn’t have to imagine how unnatural he looked. He knew there were dark circles under his eyes – sweeps of purple and grey that made him look caved in and ill, almost dead if he wasn’t breathing so hard, nearly tripping over his own feet as he turned away, unfazed by the small, silent tears now sliding down Pansy’s cheeks, staining her cheeks with her mascara. It wasn’t a good look for her, and it elicited only one ounce of sympathy for her on Draco’s part, before he forcefully turned his back to her, shoving the thought from his head.

She’d forced herself on him – in actuality, he had more right to cry than she ever did.

“I’m going to bed.” It wasn’t even a statement aimed at her, but he said it anyway, just as a further excuse to get away from her and all her overwhelming, suffocating pity and forced love.

Which it was. Forced down his bloody throat.

Sure, it had been a draw at one time – another way in which he could lord over them all supreme, Pansy hanging off his arm, making every Slytherin girl so deeply jealous that they would have sooner murdered Pansy than go anywhere near him.

He’d be an untouchable thing; a godly figure for their house – the true opponent for saintly Potter. A way to show that all Gryffindors ought not to walk around like they had crowns on their heads.

Somehow, that title had worn thin for him – like a hollow crown on his own head, feeling like a crushing weight on his head. No matter the jewels or cast iron he imagined it would be made of, he didn’t think it would bring him much comfort.

He was sick of wearing crowns. He was sick of being a symbol.

He was sick of being Draco Malfoy.

΅                    ΅                    ΅

Theo wasn’t sure if his brain would implode before his heart exploded, but he sort of figured that both would happen none too soon if Luna Lovegood stayed sat beside him any longer.

It had nearly been a half an hour since Malfoy had left – rather abruptly, Theo thought, when nothing had really been said, from what he could remember – and since then, Pansy too had gotten up to trail after him, leaving him with Blaise and Luna, and a handful of Slytherins still determined to stay in the Great Hall until they absolutely had to go up to bed.

The hall had diminished its light to a soft glow, warming the faces of the remaining students in an ambient light, making them seem almost hazy in the candlelight. Luna was lazily chatting to Blaise, who looked more than a little amused that she’d bothered to even try, but replied with as few words as possible. Luna didn’t seem to mind; she was currently talking about a Charms assignment that had cropped up that afternoon.

“I’m not sure how I might do it – possibly outside, since I can concentrate better…”

Theo had begun to tune out her idle talk, instead watching the light dapple itself through her pale, blonde hair, making it shine, soft curls fanning around her face. Her kimono sleeves had slipped from her shoulders, the soft silk now resting in the crooks of her elbows as she placed them on the table, causing it to float down her back like a shawl.

He thought she looked more radiant than he had ever seen her.

Illuminating; whimsical; like a saintly being he could only half look at, afraid to see her for all her true and fearsome beauty.

He was more afraid of her seeing him glance at her, though, for fear she might realize how he felt.

He knew he wasn’t hiding it well. He could see Blaise sending him a sly smirk his way, anytime he caught him staring at the soft tendrils of her hair or the shape of her blue lips, sparkling slightly with whatever strange, pearlescent lipstick she’d chosen that morning.

He decided that if he was going to fall, he may as well fall hard.

Merlin, this girl would be the death of him.

Blaise turned to Theo, Luna currently gazing up at the star-strewn sky with a dreamy look on her face, chin propped up in one hand. His eyebrow was raised, a quizzical stare in his eyes that told Theo all he needed to know.

Time to go.

“Uh…Luna?” He asked her, but she merely gazed upwards.

A few seconds of silence passed.

“Yes, Theo?”

He sighed, moving to stand up.

“I’m going to bed, so… I’ll see you around?”

Idiot, he muttered in his head, outwardly cringing just out of her line of sight. Sometimes he couldn’t understand how he wanted to be around her. Some days, he felt like he wanted to just carry her away and tell her how he imagined her features when she wasn’t there, and that her perfume pervaded his senses when he tried to go to sleep, and that even the slightest touch made him go blind with longing, knowing better than anybody that he couldn’t have her, no matter how he felt, or even –achingly, hopefully – how she might feel. Other days, he wanted to admire her from a distance; never speak to her again, but hope that she ended up happy, and that he could see it, even if it was never aimed at him. He didn’t know if he ought to be guarded, open, honest - partially so, even - or just shut up for the rest of the time he ever spent in her company.

Luna Lovegood confused him a great deal more than he would have liked, but he didn’t see any point in trying to deny it now.

Luna finally turned to look up at him, eyes an indefinable colour in the candlelight, mixing with the stars above their head.

“Could you walk me to Ravenclaw tower, please? I’d rather like to have some company in the dark corridors. They’re usually quite comforting but I’m not sure I want to go alone tonight,”

Theo blinked at her, hastily brushing away his fair hair. It had darkened recently with the winter days, now a sort of sandy colour that sometimes looked brown in a dim light, and his eyes were now wide, green-blue irises half worried, a quarter shocked and somehow very, very nervous as well. Blaise stared on too, dark eyes calculating, the flames of the fire flickering across his dark skin, almost as if he was fading into the shadows himself. He was like the scribe of their lives, without ever writing a word. He watched, and observed, and constantly gave the acutest advice, as if he’d seen the situation first-hand, and knew exactly what to do about it.

Theo guessed he probably was there – he was the type to look out for people, and not seek the praise and gratitude for it.

Luna was looking at him with a blank face, waiting for an answer, and Theo wasn’t entirely sure if he could provide her with one. His tongue seemed to have stopped working.

He nodded silently, scratching the back of his neck, watching as she got up from her seat and languidly began her walk down the Great Hall, turning around only once to see if he was coming.

Theo looked back at Blaise, who was no help whatsoever, as he just smiled, ever so slightly, and continued reading the Daily Prophet that had long preoccupied his mind.

Theo threw him an acidic look, knowing full well that Zabini was much too intelligent to read the Prophet; he used it as a means to listen in and observe, without being observed himself.

Holding back from spitting a curse back at him, Theo chased Luna down the rest of the Hall, sidling up to her with a gait that purveyed every shade of awkwardness that he felt around her. The sidelong glances, the muffled words, the awkward stares and the silent appreciation, as he fell back behind her, just a little, so that he wouldn’t have to look into her eyes so much. Talking face to face, making eye contact with her - it was all too much sometimes.

Making their way through the winding staircases and corridors, Theo got the particularly intense feeling of being more at ease than he’d felt in a long time. Being grouped together with the Death Eaters and murderers of the world never sat well with him, especially when, no matter if his father was one or not, he didn’t really agree with them or their actions. So yes, maybe he still needed to work on the Pureblood thing – he knew it wasn’t intelligent to believe certain status’ could be seen as superior – but forgoing that tradition, and trying to strike out on his own, in a world full of Slytherins who did believe it? Theo had a headache too often these days.

Even as they started up the staircase leading to Ravenclaw tower, Theo found it difficult trying to understand why Luna even bothered to be nice to him. He knew what Draco could be like – a firm belief that Muggles had no place in the wizarding world – but he sometimes wondered how honestly he meant it.

Granger, for example.

Something wasn’t right there. He was acting funny about her – no jokes, no smears on her name. Not even a mention, really.

But then Theo looked at his own situation, and grimaced.

He had never outwardly claimed to hate Muggles; he certainly didn’t feel like that anyway. But to think that Luna – pure, honest, humble Luna – was leading him on to believe that maybe he was a good person, when he knew full well he wasn’t, and knew that he had lead her on with that belief?

It made him sick to his knees.

As he watched her climb the steps ahead of him, gait light and unobtrusive, he wondered what she saw in him; what made her think that under all the status, and rumours, and name, that he maybe was a person worth her time or effort. An eagle hoping for the friendship of a snake.

Natural enemies, really - but he wondered if maybe Luna wanted to be a different bird instead. Maybe one not so bothered by the snake and its life.

Maybe just wanting to take it as it was, by itself, rather than see it for its label as her enemy, because others claimed that was the case.

Luna turned around, as they reached the door leading to the Ravenclaw Tower, and beyond, their common room. Her kimono was still around her arms, sleeves hanging over her hands, but she merely had them clasped underneath, behind her back. Her eyes sparkled and her hair waved lightly in a breeze that seemed to be coming from somewhere above their heads, and for a moment, Theo was caught by the sensation that everything about her seemed… unnatural, somehow. As if, even in a community full of strange people, she was stranger still.

He supposed that was true.

“Well, thank you, Theo. For walking me. It was rather lovely, wasn’t it?”

Her lips smiled slightly.

Theo smiled, lips a straight line, quirking his eyebrows in agreement - yet still lost for words.

He grasped at some.

“Yeah, I guess so. We didn’t talk much.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sometimes silence is easier than speaking, you know? I find it helps me think,”

Theo laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair.

“I could see that being a typical case with you,”

Luna smiled with her teeth this time, cheeks peach in the glow of the lamps in the corridor. His breath hitched, and he tried to force down his blush.

Damn this crush.

“You seem sad, though. As if you can’t make your mind up about something important.”

He turned to look above him, aware that the ceiling was still much too high for him to see, even up at one of the tallest towers. This building could still astonish him sometimes, when he least expected it.

“Doesn’t everybody have important things on their mind?”

Luna tilted her head, considering.

“Important to them specifically, yes. But you seem… like you’re trying to solve a problem that everyone else ought to be helping with.”

Theo quirked an eyebrow, impressed even yet by her acute observations.

“You could call it that,” he muttered, glancing sideways. You could call many things in his head 'something like that'.

“Hmmmm,” the sound was gentle – again, quintessentially Luna; she didn’t pry – but he wished for a moment that she had asked him what was the matter; pushed for an answer, maybe in some vain hope that she would share the burden with him, or give him the answer he needed. Tell him why he had to be in such a mess, with so much at stake, and why so much had to be expected from a 16 year old boy who didn’t even know what he wanted to do with his life yet, never mind decide if he wanted to wage a war in the name of a man who should have been dead, and a man who had never loved him like he thought his mother would have.

Being a Nott meant more than being a Pureblood, or a Slytherin, or whatever.

It meant being another name that could be banded about by people who thought they knew what he wanted.

He hated that the most, more than anything.

His name was his shackles, and he might yet suffer for it.

Luna was looking at him with a pensive expression, eyes un-narrowed yet somehow haunting, as if unpicking him bit by bit, wondering if maybe the jigsaw just didn’t fit right; searching for the wrong piece in the wrong place. Searching to see could she find the problem, even if she wouldn’t press him further on the issue.

Theo coughed, feeling more than a little invaded.

Like her or not, his privacy was his own, and even she wasn’t allowed that deep.

“Well, thank you, Theo. Goodnight,”

It was abrupt, yes, but seeing the tail end of her white blonde hair and silken kimono gave him the chance to breathe again, as he walked back down the staircase, hearing the riddle said behind his back, but never knowing the answer.

He continued walking, throwing it about in his head.

How do you know you are in love?

The doorknocker had asked a strange question alright.

Theo hadn't a clue, but he somehow guessed it wasn’t an answer easily found. These things never were.

As he disappeared down the staircase, Luna slid back against the inside of the door, looking out into the Ravenclaw common room, wondering for a moment if that riddle had been posed as such, for the sake of making her think beyond its answer. To make her question whether it applied to her.

To make it more than a riddle's answer.

She closed her eyes, still remembering the smell of the forest and the earth from off him.

Forever a snake - yet never a cruel one.

When you can’t explain it.

What an honest truth.

[songothelark]

My Fanfic Recs (2018)

I started reading Harry Potter fanfiction in 2011 and quickly realized that good fanfiction, and more importantly, good fanfic writers, are like gems that you stumble upon only with time and luck. Since then, I have come across some stories by talented writers that I don’t want to ever forget. Here’s my collection of favorite HP fanfics and also fics from other fandoms that I have learned to love.

I’m mainly just drawn to good writing. Besides that, I look for stories centered around relationships that in the original works might be contentious but could also plausibly facilitate major character development. Please note that some of these have unfortunately been incomplete for a long time, and many are rated R.

Harry Potter

Bad Beat, blondesimone (Luna/Rookwood)

All The Warlock’s Men, everambling (Hermione/Tom Riddle Jr)

Icarus, marbleglove (Hermione/Voldemort). It is a great shame that marbleglove has written only one story for this pairing.

On Three, flaignhan (Hermione/Tom Riddle Jr)

Reflection, sionnain (Hermione/Voldemort)

Avada Kedavra Anonymous, speechwriter (Hermione/Tom Riddle Jr). Speechwriter is one of the most influential writers of this pairing. This particular fic is hilarious, but she’s also great at drama.

The Facilities Expert, uleanblue (Hermione/Voldemort). Another hilarious one-piece for a pairing that otherwise tends to be not so light-hearted.

Abyss, lunalelle (Hermione/Voldemort). I believe lunalelle was one of the earliest HG/LV writers. Abyss has a sequel called Ascent that is just as good if not better.

Thin Walls, lunalelle (Hermione/Lucius). Some of lunalelle’s great works are not posted on FFN, which unfortunately makes them more difficult to find.

It’s Just a Stupid Holiday, lady green bat (Katie Bell/Marcus Flint)

Detained, jenszabo (Katie Bell/Marcus Flint). Out of all the unfinished works I've found, this one hurts the most.

Compensation, redcandle17 (Katie Bell/Marcus Flint)

Bring out Your Dead, riptey (Hermione/Draco). One of the best and most interesting dramione writers. Everything by riptey is a must-read.

Minimal Risk, galfoy (Hermione/Draco)

A Series of Unfortunate Events, geeky-DMHG-fan (Hermione/Draco)

Sane and Satisfactory (Hermione/Draco). I love all of rizzle’s work. This story in particular is a favorite because of its masterful retelling of the HP pairing as a parallel to the Padme/Anakin story from Star Wars.

The Uneventful Story, snowflake imp (Hermione/Draco). Warning that this story will probably never be finished.

The Right Thing To Do, lovesbitca8 (Hermione/Draco). Really looking forward to reading the next stories promised in this series!

Labyrinth

Of Nowhere and Neverwhen, kayka. See next entry.

My Fine Feathered Friend, lixxle. I discovered lixxle and kayka around the same time. These two writers define Labyrinth fanfic for me.

Her Kingdom As Great, marbleglove. Again, why oh why has marbleglove only written one story for this pairing?!

Girls Next Door, pika-la-cynique. This is actually a web-comic on DeviantArt with Sarah/Jareth as the main pairing among a great cast of characters.

Star Wars

A Stormtrooper’s Guide on How to Handle an Insufferable Boss, cazlove (Rey/Kylo Ren)

Meeting Like This, fettsontop (Leia/Boba Fett). fettsontop also goes by theloneliestshipper which is both hilarious and very sad.

Ja’ak, trebia (Rey/Kylo Ren)

Faustus (Dance with the Devil), thelittlescrimshaw (Rey/Keylo Ren)

Come to Differences, gondalsqueen (Kallus/Numa). I only recently started watching Star Wars Rebels, and still haven’t seen The Clone Wars. I’m excited to dive deeper into the SW universe and discover more awesome fics.

A Song of Ice and Fire

Super-Massive Black Hole, loquitur (Sansa/Sandor)

Avatar the Last Airbender

No Map without Water, akavertigo (Katara/Zuko)

A Girl’s Drink, fandomme (Katara/Zuko). This one is part of a beautiful series.

Batman

Blackout, adelheid23 (Joker/OC)

She Rises, paradisical815 (Joker/OC)

Discworld

Say Yes, mercator (Vetinari/OC)

One Dangerous Game, she who shines (Susan/Teatime)

X-Men

Stuck in the Middle with You, kayka (Rogue/Sabretooth). I actually haven’t watched any of the X-men movies and don’t really plan to, but this fic made me fall in love with the pairing.

[archie-mp3]

I’ll say it. I hate it. I hate ANY professor x student ship. If it’s canonically considered pedophilla/extremely problematic, it shouldn’t be shipped.

xx 🫶

While I’m not usually one to bash what people ship as at the end of the day, all these characters are in fact fictional, I have a very specific feeling towards those who ship Dramione or Snamione… now I’m not saying that it’s hate…but, it is adjacent shall we say