#eighth year fic

[undercoverdrxco]

Darling, In Any Life

Hermione did not remember. There was no remembering to be done. This Pansy Parkinson did not know This Hermione Granger. And This Hermione Granger was dangerously considered lost in space and time. She had no idea where she was at or what kind of alternate dimension she’d found herself a part of. The damn necklace had sent her somewhere - but where?

* a tale about quantum jumping, broadening your horizons, and… getting involved with the one person you’d never think you’d ever get involved with because he is… involved with your alternate self? *

[luxuriousmalfoy]

| dron eighth year social media au |

The return to Hogwarts for Eighth Year comes with a lot of new changes. Paired together in the dorms and in the new internship program at Hogwarts, Draco and Ron reluctantly must tolerate each other. [coming soon]

[houseofhurricane]

So I hit my writing goal for Against Nostalgia today... and then I wrote 750 words of an eighth year Ginny/Pansy fic. I think I love them together?! 

(Don’t worry, this is my spare time fic—Against Nostalgia is still my top priority.)

At any rate, here’s a little snippet:

Ginny has barely taken three steps before she knocks into someone.

“I thought Quidditch players were supposed to be graceful,” the witch says, her voice cool and low despite the knocking about. Ginny’s first thought, before she looks up into Pansy Parkinson’s eyes, is that the last time she heard that voice, it was terrified and offering up Harry to Voldemort.

Which makes it difficult to explain why she stares up into Pansy’s golden eyes for a moment too long, why the silky curtain of Pansy’s black hair, cut into an angled bob, is a texture she can nearly feel against her fingertips.

“We save our grace for the air,” Ginny manages, trying for a smile that she’s sure comes out a grimace. “I’m sure you’d know that from your misadventures with Malfoy.”

Pansy scowls. The gesture suits her face better than a smile.

“Draco will be in Azkaban for the next five years,” she says, still in that same tone, as if the information does not particularly bother her. Even though it must be a lie. “I’m sure your lot have kept you well-informed on that score.”

[artkiving]

Inspired by the absolutely brilliant fic by Faithwood (yep she's back) — BEHOLDEN

this is how I pictured the ending of chapter 4! also since Harry looked really cute without glasses, here's an alternate version too

Reblogs and Shares appreciated!🩷 kissing animation here

[venrain]

Draco and Harry after they drank too much celebrating the end of exams

Stunning fanart of Ch. 31, staring at the sky by the talented @chillyou on Lofter <3 it always makes my day to see interpretations of this fic :)

Go check out staring at the sky + chillyou's art!

[drarry-reccage]

before a fall by @eleadore (65k, E)

tags: slow burn, eighth year, everyone is allergic to apologies and that's how we like it

The stubborn chill of winter finally gives way to spring. The days get longer, packed to the brim with activity, but everything becomes indistinct next to Draco Malfoy, blurry and not quite there while he stands in stark relief, the long, long line of his neck and his proud back. The fragile curve of his skull. Harry likes to cradle it when they kiss, take the impact of the hard stone against his knuckles when he shoves Draco up against the wall.  "Stop that," Draco says, while Harry's palming the fine hair at the back of his head, kneading at the divot where it meets his neck. His eyes are closed, but Harry likes to look at him. "Stop doing that."  "What?"  "Holding me," Draco says nonsensically, and jerks his head back to prove his point. Harry keeps his crushed hand just there, between his head and the wall, and Draco's eyes snap open. Then narrow. "Stop it, Potter."  Another jerk. Harry's knuckles are going to bruise.  Draco bites when Harry kisses him and then, quite abruptly, softens and moulds into him like a lover, hands under his shirt and tracing over the sensitive skin of his back, scratching just so, gentle. After, when they've ended up on the floor catching their breath, he will reach over to take Harry's hand and examine the bruises, curious. He'll press on them and when Harry winces, look rather pleased.  He remains capricious, even in this—especially in this. The more Harry learns of him the less he knows. 

(rec by @garagepaperback)

[sunk1ra]

And suddenly the stag erupts from his wand, even bigger than Potter’s. It prances and gallops elegantly across the room, practically showing off in rebellion to Draco's utter mortification.

He hears Granger's loud and sharp gasp cut through the silence. Then comes the rapid onslaught of whispers and mutterings.

“Holy shit…”

“Malfoy has a stag patronus?”

“There’s no way…”

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence?”

Draco is the only Eighth Year student who still can't cast a proper Patronus. And when he finally learns how, there's a tiny problem.

Dropped fic. Will not be finished.

[fifiistar]

8th Year Drarry

The plan was simple.

Absurd, but simple.

He’d wait until Draco left for his usual late-night library run. When the coast was clear, Harry would sneak over to Draco’s side of the dorm.

He wasn’t going to do anything. He wasn’t a complete lunatic. But Draco’s pillow? His blanket? That was fair game, wasn’t it? Just for a moment, just long enough to feel…

Harry groaned, dragging his hands down his face. This is insane, he thought. I’m insane.

But even as he berated himself, the plan solidified in his mind.

Steal Draco Malfoy’s pillow.

-

Or: In which Harry Potter loses a portion of his memories during the Battle of Hogwarts. When he returns for Eighth Year, he finds himself roomed with Draco Malfoy—a boy he doesn’t remember is supposed to be his enemy. And Draco Malfoy doesn’t know how to handle a Harry Potter who has forgotten to hate him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61341223/chapters/156787399

[youhavemyswordandmybow]

HEY! My newest WIP is complete if anyone fancies a bit of drarry eighth year, with a slice of adventure and some smut.

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Sparks by annanotherthing Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: E Word Count: 20k “I’m sorry,” Draco turned to him, “are we boring you?” Greg looked up. “No, I’m just hungry, and you’re taking far too long to just tell them that you and Potter are soulmates. Do you have to be this dramatic?” There was a moment of silence, before all hell broke loose.

[autumnweeen]

Dramione Month | Day 5 | Undetectable Extension Charm

@dhrmonth

Forgive any typos, I really tried!

[stvrlvghtwrites]

I love you, don't you?

"Draco! Draco! Will you- you just-" Harry panted, putting his hands on his knees to take a gulp of breath after running after him, "stop."

Draco turned and shoved Harry's shoulder as if to say 'fuck you' which he already had before he had left Harry sitting dumbly at the table. Harry winced but grabbed his arm, "come on, I- please, can we talk?"

Draco tugged out of his reach and stepped away, "we can talk with a little distance between us."

Harry frowned, "I don't want to hurt you, Draco. I really don't. I love the friendship we have but... but Ginny... she doesn't trust you and..." he rubbed his forehead with two of his fingers, "she's completely in the wrong and I disagree with her. I do. I really do. I just don't know how to convince her that you won't hurt me."

Draco pressed his lips into a thin line, a pain beginning to form in his chest. Did he really call what they have a friendship? Draco was sure they were more than that with the way Harry slept with his head in his lap sometimes or carded his finger through his blond hair or... kissed his cheek in greeting, teasing him relentlessly whenever his face turned red. It wasn't just friendship, he knew it. He could feel it, with the lingering touches and the stolen glances and the shy smiles they shared. He hadn't seen that between Harry and Ginny. Not since the war.

Harry looked at him with worry in his green eyes, silently pleading him to say something. He probably didn't even see the blatant hurt and jealousy on Draco's face or even realised that there was something so special between them. Oblivious git, Draco rolled his eyes.

It was only a minute before Draco's resolve crumbled, a man could withstand those bedroom eyes for so long. He sighed, "the solution is simple, Harry. We just simply don't talk anymore. Will that please your girlfriend?"

"No!" Harry said, suddenly, straightening his posture a bit, "can't we compromise? I can't not talk to you..." His face was bent in pain and confusion, "you're my friend, Draco. My best friend. I can't lose you."

Draco swallowed, "tell me, Potter. Does Weasley truly love you?"

Harry nodded, "yes. She tells me that all the time." He was lying, Draco knew.

"Then why would she make you choose between her and me? I wouldn't. She's your girlfriend, you love her and would probably marry her and have ginger babies but that won't stop me from being your friend."

Harry looked away, he pressed a hand to his chest in thought as if mulling over what Draco just said. Without another word, Draco left.

Maybe Harry didn't have feelings for Draco, just maybe. But that wasn't possible because he knew him better than anyone, he had spent years looking at him, his face was already an open book and Draco basked in the adoration that Harry kept in his eyes, only for Draco.

He just hoped Harry would sort his mind and decide if Draco was a friend or something even more.

The pain in his chest didn't ebb away like he thought it would. It only grew.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××

the writing is so raw, i swear. i haven't written drarry in so long, just had a rare burst of inspiration, let me know your thoughts!! xx (part 2???)

love,

v

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××

[drarryficrecsbasement]

Chapters: 10/10 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Daphne Greengrass, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Hurt Harry Potter, Depressed Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, First Time, Switching, Explicit Sexual Content, moonflower_rose needs a hug Summary:

Draco Malfoy might not be a killer, but it turns out he's an effective painkiller. If stopping pain was all Draco's touch did, things might not be so complicated, but either way Harry can't afford to be choosy.

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Do you have any recs for Drarry struggling with trauma or ptsd during 8th year? Please and thank you!

Hello! Your holds have arrived!

I took the liberty of giving you MORE RECS and splitting this rec list into two parts! Be sure to check out last week's list for the first part of these recs!

Eighth Year + Trauma 2

A Sliver of Hope by @goldentruth813 (539 words, rated G)

Draco doesn't have much to offer, but he'll gladly share what he does have.

say something by @gallifrey1sburning (1,190 words, rated M)

“The world I was raised for is dead,” he stated, his voice flat. “And good riddance, I suppose, but there’s no place for me here. I was molded to ascend in a society that burned. It might have been better if I had burned with it.”

Destination: Healing by @stargazing-enby (2,027 words, rated T)

As much as he refused to think about it, the truth was something in Harry’s chest unravelled in those dawn-hued moments of quiet when his body was heavy against the bathroom door frame, the Cloak heavy on his shoulders, and his gaze heavier than any of the two on the rise and fall of Malfoy’s breathing.

The Swallows Will Return by @thisbloodycat (4,621 words, rated E)

Harry wasn’t sure what he’d expected from life after the war—peace, obviously, maybe a sense of accomplishment—but it certainly hadn’t been this.

to be a bit of warmth (for you) by @softlystarstruck (9,304 words, rated M)

As some of the only eighth years to return to Hogwarts, Harry doesn't know how he and Draco will manage to be roommates for a whole year without resorting to violence. But Draco is too quiet, and too thin, and wears layers of sweaters that he tucks over his fingers. So they fall into an unspoken routine, one that soothes Harry as much as it helps Draco, one that's so much easier than Harry thought it would be.

Until it all falls apart, and Harry realizes he holds the world in his hands.

Dragons Don’t Talk by @rama-thorn (15,805 words, rated T)

In which Harry can't talk, Hermione soon will have a nervous breakdown, Ron's just confused and Draco has some illwishers (and talks a lot).

Cascade by @avonneslovelies (18,738 words, rated M)

Harry wants to touch, and Draco wants to be touched. If only they could figure it out.

Heartache by @bixgirl1 (25,577 words, rated E)

What if the one person you least expect is the only one who really understands what you've gone through?

Inside Your Mind by lazywonderland (36,376 words, rated E)

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (51,637 words, rated E)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

Diffraction Patterns (I Don't Know How to Forget You) by @yourdifferentoctober (93,636 words, rated E)

When Harry Potter, of all people, offers to help Draco erase his Dark Mark, he has no choice but to accept. He wants it gone. He wants to forget. He wants to reconstitute the past. Never mind that erasures leave real marks on bodies, real traces on the world in its becoming. This is not how he expected his eighth year to go.

[buttered-baguette-writes]

Snakes Den

Yet another eighth-year fic where Harry learns the Dark Arts: this time, featuring strained friendship golden-trio and Harry joining the Slytherin Skittles! (Also on AO3)

Harry had been dragging his feet since the end of the war.

At the start, it was simply because he was just that tired – physically and mentally. The war that had dictated his entire life so far was finally over, yet he couldn’t find a single second of peace. Both his days and nights were haunted. He waved off any concern directed his way, claiming he just needed more time before he could get back to normal.

But he didn’t know what normal was. He had never gotten the chance to exist. He went straight from the Dursley’s torment to child soldier.

It took yet another sleepless night for him to figure out that he would have to create a normal, create a peace, for himself because the world certainly didn’t seem to want to give him one as an apology.

So, he slowly started making himself at home at Grimmauld Place. He befriended Kreacher, finding he actually quite liked the grumpy house elf. He made his way through the rooms of the house, thinking he might spruce things up a bit if the house tried not to eat him for it. He ended up spending a lot of his time in the library, unsurprised when the room looked different each time he entered.

Harry knew the house had a mind of its own. He was just glad it like him enough to brighten up the library and add a couch under a definitely new window.

At some point, every single ward was reset. The house became centred around him and no one else had access to it anymore.

Well, two people did. And it wasn’t Hermione and Ron. They never visited the house; had never asked to either. The only time Harry saw them was at the Burrow. Somewhat in place of them, Harry found himself hanging out with the twins a lot more. They had all been close before, but the end of the war brought them closer together.

The twins were the only ones Harry allowed into his safe space; and they always called before coming over.

Things started to look up.

Only for his lungs to stop working properly at the Weasley’s dining table because of a simple letter. He was invited back to finish his studies at Hogwarts. The place he had called him home. The place he had loved dearly. The place that eventually turned into a hell he couldn’t bear to be in. He knew he wouldn’t be able to walk through the halls like nothing had happened. Like he wouldn’t be haunted by the faces of people they lost. Like he hadn’t been hunted in the halls.

“-rry?”

“Harry?”

He blinked, vision refocusing. He saw Fred and Goerge standing in front of him, blocking the rest of their family from view.

Harry sucked in a shaky breath before letting it go slowly. Inhale. Exhale.

It was over, it was all in the past, he reminded himself.

“Are you okay, Harry?” George spoke softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to go back, y’know,” Fred said.

“I know, but-” Harry shrugged. “I’m not exactly doing anything else.”

The twins gave him one last look before nodding, returning to their own seats. The rest of the Weasley family was staring at him, concern written all over their faces. Harry saw several people open their mouths, but he wasn’t in the mood to hear whatever it was they had to say – most like just his name in an extremely sad, pitiful tone.

“I’m fine, really. Just never thought of going back before.”

Narrowed eyes looked his way but the twins quickly diverted the conversation and attention away from him.

Harry really loved them.

It was about two weeks before school was set to return that things got a little bit testy.

Harry had been having a good day – had even had a decent enough sleep the night before. He had been mucking about in the Weasley’s yard, having a fun afternoon out in the sun.

Him, Hermoine, Ron, and Ginny were being chased by Fred and George. The twins had recently discovered water balloons and had immediately began filling them with Merlin knows what.

Harry got hit in the centre of his chest with one, his shirt drenched in what he thought was normal water. Until his shirt started to turn see through.

“What the bloody hell is this?!”

The twins grinned proudly. “That is our latest invention!”

“It’s simply water that turns any fabric translucent.”

“We want to put it in a product –“

“But we also don’t want to end up in Wizengamot.”

Harry nodded. He briefly wondered if they would accept any more funding donations for their business…

“You can vanish it like normal water,” Fred said before he turned his attention to his youngest brother, mischief clear.

Ron screamed seconds later.

Harry bent over in laughter only to be tackled by his now slime covered friend. They went tumbling to the floor, pushing and shoving playfully.

Ron suddenly stilled.

“What is that?” The ginger asked, voice carefully even.

Harry followed his gaze down to his own chest where multiple marks on chest could be seen. The marks ran from just under his collar bone to the bottom of ribs, two rows wide on his left side. They could have been mistaken for tattoos.

Harry pushed himself off the ground. He swallowed around the lump in his throat as he noticed the others inching closer, watching the interaction.

“Uh, yeah… I’ve been meaning to tell you guys…” Harry trailed off. He didn’t like the dark look Ron, Hermione and Ginny were already giving him. “I’ve, uh –”

“Oh Harry,” Hermoine cut him off. Her voice was soft yet scolding as if she was speaking to a child. “Why would you do that.”

Harry frowned.

“Those don’t come off. Ever.” Hermione said.

“Why do you even know what they are?” Ron asked, livid.

“Why do you?” Harry snapped back. He didn’t appreciate the feeling of his friends ganging up on him to lecture him about something that he knew a whole lot more than them about. He felt the twins move closer to him, silent and calm, but there.

When Ginny finally spoke up, her face and tone were a mixture of distress and distrust. “Are they left over from him?”

“No. I put them there. I wanted them there,” Harry said. His confidence didn’t waver under their gazes. With a wave of his hand, he finally dried his shirt and spun on his heels. He ignored the angry calls from his friends. He was over having to explain himself and the things he did, especially to the people he cared about.

He just needed a bit of time to cool off.

(The twins ended up floo-calling him that night. They wanted him to know they didn’t think any differently of him. In fact, they just hoped he was safe with it all and, most importantly, happy.

Harry could have cried.)

There had been a short, hushed argument on the train platform.

The train ride to Hogwarts was spent in absolute silence. The golden trio were the only ones occupying the carriage. None of their friends had dared to try to be any form of buffer as the thick tension threatened to strangle everyone.

Harry dragged his feet all the way to the great hall, even stopping to say hello to the thestrals.

He didn’t listen to McGonagall’s welcome speech. It was pointless background drabble that didn’t interest him at all any longer. At least not to start with.

“A lot has happened to everyone in the past few years.”

No shit, Harry thought with a bitter snort.

“To help promote inter-house unity, everyone will be resorted. We assume most people won’t change houses. For those students who do, know that it is not a bad thing, and I except them to be welcomed warmly. We will not tolerate bullying.

“We will start with our first years, as normal. Throughout the week, we will slowly cover the rest of the school. Now, first up…”

Harry went rigid. He did not, under any circumstance, want to talk to that damned hat again in front of everyone. He didn’t want to hear its opinion. He knew he couldn’t win another debate with it. Now, it wasn’t that he was scared of what the hat might find, of what might become – he had come to terms with that months ago. He feared always being watched, scrutinized, and held to a different standard. Except this time, it wouldn’t be because of his so-called destiny – it’d be because of his schoolhouse. Something so trivial.

All he wanted was less from people. He just wanted to exist. If strangers could stop perceiving him, that’d be wonderful.

He couldn’t remember the rest of the welcome feast clearly. Nor most of the following days. He was stuck in a haze, caught between the past and an uncertain future.

The main thing he could vaguely recall was that he shared quite a few classes with Slytherins, and he had even exchanged a silent but civil greeting with Malfoy and his friends.

Friday night rolled around, and Harry’s bones jittered. They, the Gryffindors, were going last. There was only a small number of eighth years, but he had already seen several of them switch houses. In fact, throughout the week, he noticed that Ravenclaw and Slytherin swapped a few students. He was well aware of the largely different reaction that occurred when a new student joined the snake house.

The prejudice didn’t sit well with him. Not anymore.

“Harry Potter,” McGonagall called out.

With a fortifying breath, Harry made his way to the front, ignoring the stares as best as he could. He grimaced when the hat sat on his head.

“Well, hello again.”

“Hi,” Harry said. “Are we going to argue tonight?”

“No child, there is only one choice this time.”

“So why haven’t you announced it yet?” Harry asked, frowning. He blocked out the whispers coming from the crowd, all curious as to what the pair were discussing.

“I merely wanted to wish you well. Things would have been very different had you not at the center of a war.”

“Wait.” Harry hesitated before continuing. “If everything hadn’t of happened, what house would you have put me in in first year?”

He could feel the hat smile and his eyes snapped open in the direction of the Slytherin table, green eyes automatically meeting gray.

“Slytherin!” the hat boomed, effectively silencing the entire hall.

Inhale. Exhale.

Harry’s feet carried him mindlessly to towards his new table as he tried his hardest to ignore the murmurs that broke out across the hall. The tie he had lazily thrown over his shoulders was bled of the gold and red, changing into silver and green. Conveniently, there was a free seat at the end of the table for him to plop down.

Inconveniently, it was next to Pansy Parkinson. Which meant, as he looked up, he was greeted by Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy.

“Well, this is interesting,” Malfoy said. Harry couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

“Not now, Malfoy, please,” Harry said quietly. He was not willing to look past the two boys in front of him and into the sea of students. At the baffled table of Gryffindors.

Malfoy’s expression changed. It was only a slight difference, but his eyes narrowed – though it wasn’t full of hate like normal, it was a gaze full of curiosity.

And Harry would know. He would never admit it out loud, but he knew he had a staring problem when it came to the blonde.

Left alone at the end of the table, the four of them stayed quiet throughout the rest of dinner. Somehow, it was more companionable than the stifling atmosphere that had clung and suffocated him at the other table.

They stayed seated until majority of the other students had shuffled their way to their dorms. Harry wasn’t stressed about moving anytime soon, and it seemed the other three shared his sentiment. What was confusing was that when he made to leave, so did they. For some reason, Parkinson had taken to walking directly beside Harry while the other two were behind them.

And when Harry stopped just past the threshold of the hall, so did Parkinson, the other two falling into line with them.

“Ah, Gryffindors,” Parkinson mumbled, distaste clear in her voice.

Loitering about in the hallway was none other than Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. The trio were waiting for someone.

But Harry – he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t have that conversation with them just yet. Their almost week of forced proximity did little to change any of their feelings. So, he simply walked past them, speeding up when they realised he had passed by them.

Surprisingly, the other three Slytherins matched his quick pace all the way to the dungeons.

“Uh, thanks?”

Parkinson waved him off, bidding the boy goodnight as she headed off to the girls’ section of the dorms.

Malfoy slowly started to wander off.

“Well, come on,” Zabini said, motioning for Harry to follow them.

Right. He was sharing with them. Totally fine.

Once inside his new room, Harry felt his bones start to rattle again. “Is there a working floo down here?” he asked.

Malfoy raised a brow but pointed at the fireplace that was tucked into the corner of their room, three dingy chairs around it. The blonde then drew the curtains of his bed tightly.

Zabini had collapsed onto his bed as soon as entering the room, curtains closed, and a silencing charm muttered.

Harry felt himself relax a bit. He rummaged through his trunk before kneeling in front of the fireplace. He knew without a doubt that the person he was calling would still be awake,

“Fred Weasley.”

Part 2

[redwinesupercvnt]

against my will i am starting to become interested in drarry but i've been immersed in the marauders fandom for forever so can somebody please explain to me the lore behind 8th year