#epilogue compliant

[elliebyrrdwrites]

New Dramione One Shot

Hermione spends every winter observing the peculiar mating habits of a rare, magical species of crab somewhere in Mexico.

There is a small beach where no one ever goes. A fact that Hermione sometimes thought to be a tragedy. But only just a little. She quite liked being the sole occupant of the clandestine beach. For every year, she got to witness a spectacular event. The tiny beach would become overrun by hundreds – maybe thousands – of a rare species of crabs. They were magical little crustaceans that would glow at night, hues of neon green and pink, blue and white would litter the little beach, like earthbound fireflies that fed off of sea plants and little fish. What magic they had, she didn't know. Aside from the fact that they seemed highly intelligent - like, freakishly so - they had only the brilliant bioluminescent shades that defied nature.

She felt connected, somehow, to these little creatures. For her, they represented everything good and bad in her life. She didn’t glow, but she was isolated, and she was the product of a lifetime that felt like millennia of evolution that led her to be the person she is today.

She just didn’t know who, exactly, that was. Originally, she was going to change the world. She helped to save it, once upon a time, but she did not ever manage to change it. She gave up the dreams of becoming Minister, and enacting laws that would protect people like her. Because, even people like her were cruel and terrible. Biology was less disappointing. Magical or not, creatures that were not human acted more instinctual. They just wanted to survive.

And she assumed, perhaps, that was all she was trying to do, too.

Click to read the rest.

[ficreclibraries]

Summary: Harry's lonely in the aftermath of his divorce. Except for the weekends that he has the kids, Harry's cooking gourmet meals for one in his big, empty farmhouse, with only his seven cats for company.Until, that is, Harry finds Al and Lily playing with Scorpius Malfoy in the front yard, and learns that Draco Malfoy is his closest wizarding neighbor. Oh, and also, Harry's favorite cat is stolen (multiple times!) by someone who had the audacity to put a sparkly pink collar on her, with a nametag that reads "Plumeria Seraphin Snugglybug". These things (Malfoy and the cat-snatching) may or may not be related.Featuring: a cat-loving Harry who loves to cook, has playdates with Pansy Parkinson, and tends to rap when he's wasted, and good-dad Draco Malfoy who's still a prat, albeit an irritatingly attractive and charming one.Also featuring: a slew of adorable children, a stolen cat named Stormy, copious amounts of sexual tension, divorce betting pools, amoral yet charismatic Slytherins, peeping-tom Harry, foot massages given while under the influence, Harry's first time with a bloke, and did I mention cats?

[heyclickadee]

“Hey, you okay?”

“I…no.”

“Okay. Talk to me.”

“Phee…what if we made a mistake?”

“What?”

“There is hardly anywhere the Empire is not these days. What if something happens to one of us? To both of us? What if you go out on a mission for Vos and you are killed or”—

“It’s us, brown eyes. And it’s me. I’d like to see the Empire try to keep me down.”

“Then what if one day I wake up and I cannot remember you? Or the girls?”

“Then we’ll help you remember all over again. All of us.”

“But what if”—

“You were having that nightmare about Tantiss, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I…don’t want to…go back to being….”

“Listen, Tech Ninety-Nine Genoa: you are never going back to that ever again. I promise.”

For the day five prompt of ND Tech Week. I’m thinking it takes Tech a little while to get back home, and a little while longer to figure out who he really is. He still has some rough days, and worries in ways he didn’t before. Whatever happened to him, and whatever he did afterwards, was something he couldn’t control—and it kept him away for so much longer than he wanted. Still, every once in while it hits him how much they lost, and how much they got back, and in spite of everything he thinks he must be the luckiest man in the galaxy to have come out the other side. After all, better late than dead. As Phee always says. (Or did that one time.)

[jq37]

I've largely been thrilled with the amount of sister content for Adaine and Aelwyn in Junior Year considering that Aelwyn's main arc was more or less completed last season and she could have easily been benched like so many other NPCs were this season. The only thing I was hoping would come into play but didn't was the Nemesis Ward. Even if it never comes up though, I still love it so much as a point of characterization for her. That action says so much about who she is as a person. That she would take a piece of magic specifically intended for evil and make it good in the same way that her protective magic which should have been good was twisted to be used for evil the first 18 years of her life? Mwah. Chef's kiss.

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

Albus put down the book very slowly. Scorpius looked at him with mild concern. “Albus?” 

He didn’t listen, instead he got up, walked out of the library, and screamed. Then he came back in. Madam Pince looked down her nose at him, so he grinned cheerfully and sat down next to Scorpius. 

“Al, what was that for?” 

Wordlessly, Albus pushed the book over to Scorpius, gesturing at two consecutive chapters. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, read the first. The second, Severus Tobias Snape. Scorpius read the entries quickly, the advantages of being a fast reader. He laughed. 

“Shut up!” Albus whispers, poking him in the side. 

“I mean you have to admit, it’s funny.”

“No it really isn’t! Dad’s the bloody Man-Who-Conquered, you’d think he’d know how to name a child!” He whisper-shouted.

“Would you like a quill and parchment?” Scorpius asked innocently. 

Albus glared. “Yes.” 

In the end, the letter read

Dear Mum and Dad, I’m in the library,  having just read a book about previous heads of Hogwarts Written by Uncle Nev and Auntie Luna And I would just like to ask one thing Are you fucking serious? I demand a name-change now please Anything, literally anything else Dobby Kreature Potter, for all I care Sorry for swearing, but just Bloody hell, what were you thinking Love, Norbert Fang Potter, or something

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron laughed. “You have to admit, mate, naming your son after the bloke who raised you to die and the twit who bullied us for our entire school and told Moldy-wart the Prophecy was a little bit stupid, wasn’t it.” 

“It was symbolic!” Harry protested. 

“Your first son you called James Sirius. Alright, bit of a heavy legacy, but I can see the reasoning. Your daughter, Lily Luna. The same. But why, oh why, did you call Al, Albus Severus? Mate, honestly. It’s not like we have a shortage of slightly nicer dead friends and family to name children as, is it? Or alive, you called Lils Luna, after all! I despair. It’s a miracle that you didn’t name Teddy, or else he might have ended up as Remus Peter Lupin-Potter! Or why not skip the subtleties and call him Peter Bellatrix Scabbers!” 

Harry winced. In retrospect, true. “... Regulus Minerva Potter?”

“Alright, a little bit better, but just a small thought. This is your chance to give one of your children a name that doesn’t have a previous owner. Just a thought, mind.” Ron added.

“Tom?” 

There was silence. Ron seemed dumbstruck at his friend's utter idiocy. “Harry. Mate. Please, please, tell me you see the issue with ‘Tom’. Please.” 

“It wasn’t all his fault, really, Dumbledore was a bit of an idiot…” Harry trailed off at the look on Ron’s face. 

“Harry. Your wife was possessed by him for a whole year. He also, under a very stupid alias, did, oh I don’t know, TRY TO KILL YOU FOR YOUR WHOLE LIFE?” 

“And succeeded once.” Harry added helpfully. 

“No. Just no.” 

Harry laughed. That one had been a little bit of a joke, to tell the truth. “Ok. Er- hmm. Your lot and my parents seem to have the monopoly on names, to be fair… Aha! Fleamont Minerva Potter!” 

Ron sighed. “That’s the best we’re going to get, isn’t it? Check with Gin.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Norbert Fang Potter

We do apologise, it was all your Dad’s idea. I would have been entirely happy never thinking about either Dumbledore or Snape again, to be fair. Thanks to your Uncle Ron preventing Regulus and Tom, we have come up with a different idea. 

How do you feel about Monty Minerva Potter? 

Is school going well, how are your friends?

Mum

and Dad (Who says sorry and admits Albus Severus might have been a mite foolish)

inspired by this pin

[famousflowermagazine]

My hero academia stopped at chapter 430 for me canon? Don't know it

Canon will not stop me shipping bakudeku

[starlightvld]

I... I think the last chapter of Couch Surfing is... finally... done? I need to do another read-through tomorrow, though, so here's a little snippet from near the end to tide you all over:

"Better learn some self control, Sergeant." Johnny scoffed but laid his head back down anyway. "Willnae be able to say tha' much longer." "Not callin' you L.t." "Ye'll be calling me Lieutenant MacTavish every time, will ye?" "No. Just Johnny." Johnny gave a pleased hum. "Sounds about right."

Also, there is now *art* to go along with this fic (!!!!!), which I am excited to share very soon!

[nettedtangible]

Epilogue, HP Microfic, 2554 words.

We all hate the epilogue, so I re-wrote it. Enjoy.

Harry stood in the kitchen of one of his favourite places in the world, and noted that, for the first time he could remember, the Burrow was silent. He placed his hands on the benchtop and gazed out the window at the small and sombre band of people gathered in the overgrown yard.

It had been four days since the battle of Hogwarts; days which had felt to be some of the longest of Harry’s life, bar perhaps, some of his more arduous stints at Privet Drive. He hung his head, diverting his eyes from the scene in front of him. Behind him he heard a noise, and turning, saw Ginny emerge from the staircase, her eyes red, though her face was set firm. He had seen that fiery resolve in her face many times before and reached out for her hand. She took it and, with a gesture of her head, indicated that it was time for them to join the others.

They walked through the backdoor and into the garden, the sky pearly grey above them to mark the occasion. The Weasleys were gathered around a freshly dug hole in the ground, beside which stood a rough-hewn coffin. Harry stole himself as he looked at it and turned his head, taking in those around him.

Mr and Mrs Weasley stood at the head of the grave, Mrs Weasley sobbing into Mr Weasley’s shoulder, whose face was set into a mask of stony grief. To their right stood Andromeda Tonks, stroking the face of the blue haired baby she carried in her arms. Harry closed his eyes, remembering heavily Lupin and Tonks’ funeral of the previous day. It had been a small affair, and a devastating setting for Harry to meet his godson, feeling as he had held him for the first time, an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the fate of his parents.

Standing near Andromeda were Bill and Fleur, Fleur resting against Bill’s chest, the picture of regal sadness. Charlie stood beside them, one arm slung around Percy's shoulders, eyes downcast. Near the foot of the grave stood George, flanked by Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan. Harry thought that he had never seen a person look more lost. George was staring into the grave intently, as if filled with longing to join his twin, as he had in all other adventures. Angelina was clutching his arm and sniffing with repressed sobs, while Lee simply looked shocked, as though expecting Fred to leap from behind a bush at any moment.

Next to Harry stood Ron and Hermione, locked in a tight embrace. Tears were dripping off the end of Ron’s long nose as he buried his head in Hermione’s bushy hair, her own face wet from crying. Slightly off to the side sat Hagrid, who clutched a bottle of firewiskey in one hand and an overlarge plaid handkerchief in the other.

Nobody present wore dress robes or had followed in the Muggle tradition of wearing black, their grief was worn on their faces and banished all need for ceremony.

 Harry exchanged a glace with Ron, and found he had no words of comfort to offer. Gripping tighter to Ginny’s hand, he turned to Mr Weasley. A sense of quiet expectation settled over the crowd.

Mr Weasley stepped forward, disengaging gently from a still shaking Molly, and raised his wand. Softly, the coffin was lifted from the ground and slowly lowered into the open grave. Harry heard it land with a soft thud, the finality of which shook him to his core. George turned his face, looking away from the grave for the first time.

‘My son,’ began Mr Weasley, voice clear, though slightly unsteady, ‘was a man unlike any other,’ he gave George a small look and continued, ‘save for his partner in crime and in life.’  A small gasp of mirth seemed to be wrenched from the mourners, as George began to cry in earnest.

‘I will never be able to understand why it was that he was taken from us, as so many were, by this terrible war,’ continued Mr Weasley, ‘but I do know, that he died because he fought. That he was brave, and rash, and would never, for one second, have let the fight go on without him.’ Some more tortured chuckles were released from the crowd.

‘Fred, I will love you until the day I die, as will everyone here. But I know that you walk beside us, possibly tying our shoelaces together when we’re not looking…’ another gasping laugh.

‘Fred died fighting for what was right, and to protect the people he loved, and each of us must honour him by going forth and living our lives with love in our hearts and laughter in our days.’

Harry’s face felt hot and tears prickled his eyes as a smile broke through the pain. Mr Weasley stepped back from the grave and raised his wand, ready to fill the grave with the adjacent pile of dirt when suddenly, a strange thumping noise echoed over the garden.

‘Arthur-,’ said Mrs Weasley, sharply, grasping Mr Weasley’s arm and staring into the grave, ‘listen…’ The thumping sound was growing louder and more pronounced, and every onlooker shuffled forward to peer into the grave, looking at the coffin intently.

With a blast the sound of a canon, the coffin burst open, and explosions suddenly filled the air. For a mad second, Harry thought that Fred had come charging out, but soon realised that hundreds of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes fireworks were pouring out of the coffin, emitting loud cracks and bangs and expanding out of the grave. Dragons and pinwheels rocketed up into the overcast sky, and letters forming the words “saint like” danced around their heads. Harry whipped his head to look at George, who was grinning widely through a sheen of tears. He looked around at his family, who, like Harry, had turned to him, and shrugged,

‘We had a pact,’ he said simply, looking sheepish and heartbroken all at once. A laugh rang out among the crowd, loud and shrill. Harry looked around to discover that, unexpectedly, it was emanating from Mrs Weasley. She was laughing so hard that her body shook, and she fell to her knees, stroking the grass at the very head of the Grave, peering into the coffin lovingly, her laughs mingled with sobs.

At this, though they had been momentarily frozen in surprise, the rest of the party began to laugh too, haltingly at first, through with increased fervour. Ron was smiling despite himself and running his hands over his disbelieving face. Lee and Angelina were beaming as they watched rockets and hippogriffs soar above them. Teddy was staring at the fireworks completely enrapt, and Bill and Charlie were smirking, exchanging knowing looks at their brothers’ antics.

Harry felt a relaxing of the tightness in his chest as he admired the colours and sparks of the superb firework display and knew that Fred wanted them to celebrate him, not mourn. He laughed as one of the fireworks performed a particularly rude gesture, which, again unexpectedly, made Molly redouble with laughter.

The group laughed and cried and traded stories about Fred as the dusk turned the sky to a faint pink and the fireworks flew all around them and off into gathering night.

Harry followed the others as they trouped inside, the Burrow feeling warmer now than it had all day. Mr Weasley lit a fire with his wand and promptly began distributing firewiskey, while Mrs Weasley busied herself in the kitchen, wiping her eyes on her apron as she went. Hagrid, having brought up the rear and squeezed himself arduously through the door, now sat on the hearth, swigging liberally at his flagon and telling Angelina about a time that he had discovered Fred and George in the Forbidden Forest during one of his visits to Aragog.

‘Never seen a more meddlin’ pair ‘an these two I reckon!” he said, his words slurred slightly. ‘’cept you lot.’ he added, gesturing the flagon accusingly at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who all exchanged sheepish smiles.

Mrs Weasley brought out copious amounts of food and they passed the evening feasting on delicious mince pies and treacle tart as they swapped increasingly rude stories about Fred and George’s famous wrongdoings, some of which took Mr and Mrs Weasley so aback they managed to half-heartedly chide George.

As the night progressed, the conversation turned to the events which had transpired following the downfall of Voldemort. The entire ministry was in disarray according to Mr Weasley.

Harry found himself in the kitchen, leaning against the sink and asking about the state of affairs at Hogwarts when Kingsley Shacklebolt strode through the door.

‘Arthur,’ he said solemnly, shaking Mr Weasley’s hand ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for the funeral, I came as soon as I could, the Ministry’s in absolute chaos.’

‘Of course,’ said Mr Weasley, ‘thank you for coming.’

‘Fred was a good man,’ said Kinglsey gravely, ‘Harry,’ he nodded, shaking Harry’s hand also, ‘how are you?’

‘I’m alright,’ replied Harry, ‘How is everything? Is the Ministry going to be okay?’

‘Oh yes, it’ll be fine,’ said Kingsley, shaking his head, ‘The Death Eaters did a number on it but we’ll have it put right soon enough. In fact,’ he added, ‘we could use your help.’ Harry thought about it, considered everything that the Ministry had put him through and a not dissimilar conversation he had had with Scrimgeour a year prior. Kingsley, sensing his apprehension, shrugged,

‘You don’t have to of course, Merlin knows you’ve done enough, we won’t ask you to die for us again.’ he said with a wry smile. Harry smiled back,

‘Yeah, I’ll help,’ said Harry, ‘It’s not like I can go back to school.’ They had received word the previous day that all seventh years who had fought in the battle of Hogwarts would receive an automatic graduation. Hermione was distinctly forlorn at the news and had already written to Professor McGonagall asking to return in September to complete her N.E.W.T.s. Harry smiled at the thought of Ron’s amused though unsurprised face when she had told them of this.

‘Excellent,’ said Kingsley, ‘we can get your Auror training started right away,’

‘Auror?’ said Harry questioningly, ‘really?’

‘Think you’re under-qualified?’ said Kingsley, smiling, ‘defeated any famous dark wizards lately?’ Harry smiled.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I’d love to be an Auror!’

‘Great!’ said Kingsley, ‘we need a replacement for Dawlish anyway, and in the meantime, there’s plenty of work that needs to be done.’

Kingsley didn’t stay for long after that. He talked briefly with Mrs Weasley, offering his condolences, and shared one drink with the increasingly inebriated party before departing back to the Ministry. On his way out he informed Harry that his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin were safely in the care of the Order and preparing to return to their normal lives, though, he informed him with a jerk of his lips, they could not return to number four, Privet Drive, as the Death Eaters had destroyed it following the battle of the Seven Potters. Harry allowed himself a small smile at the thought of Privet Drive being no more, before bidding Kinglsey farewell and seeing him out into the yard.

After Kinsley had disapparated, Harry lingered in the Garden for some time, looking at the soft mound of dirt marked with a large slab of granite down by the vegetable patch. He leaned on the rough wooden fence and turned his face towards the sky, now clear and smattered with stars. From behind him he heard footsteps but didn’t turn around. He found himself flanked by Ron and Hermione, who joined him in his stargazing.

‘What did Kingsley say?’ asked Ron, resting his elbows on the fence,

‘Wants me to go be an Auror,’ said Harry, considering this avenue further.

‘Cool,’ said Ron admiringly, ‘reckon you’ll be suited to that?’ he shot him a grin.

‘We’ll see I guess,’ said Harry, allowing himself to grin as well. ‘you should join.’ He added, glancing over at Ron.

‘Yeah maybe,’ said Ron thoughtfully looking up at the night sky, ‘I reckon me and Hermione are gonna go to Australia first, find her parents.’ Harry looked over to Hermione, who had a restrainedly hopeful expression.

‘That’s great,’ he said, ‘I hope you find them soon.’

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, ‘well I didn’t put any tracking spells on them in case we were captured and tortured, so it’ll be tricky…’ Ron shrugged,

‘Nothing’s tricky for you Hermione! We’ll probably find them in a week. Plus, we gotta get you back for September first.” He smiled teasingly at her.

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, ‘I don’t want to miss the train! I might have to enchant a car and fly to school,

‘We didn’t enchant the car!’ said Ron indignantly. Hermione laughed.

‘When will you leave?’ asked Harry, glancing between them.

‘Soon.’ Said Hermione plainly, ‘once the dust has settled a bit,’

‘Take food.’ said Harry, grinning at Ron who made a rude gesture in return. Hermione just snorted derisively.

‘Yes, we’d better.’ she said.

They stood at the fence in silence for a while, comfortable soaking up each other’s company as an awareness that they were about to be going their separate ways for the first time in seven years settled over them.

‘I’ll miss you guys.’ said Harry thickly.

‘Yeah mate,’ said Ron encouragingly, ‘we’ll miss you too,’

‘Of course we will,’ said Hermione, placing her hand on Harry’s shoulder, ‘we’ll be back before long.’

‘Yeah,’ added Ron, ‘and we’ll bring you a souvenir, have you heard of these mad things called Kangaroos?’ Harry laughed, Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron loped his arm over Harry’s shoulders. Harry wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, but he felt as though he could stay forever.

Eventually, the two receded and wordlessly wandered back inside, linking arms as they did so. Harry saw them pass a figure in the doorway and recognised Ginny walking across the grass to him, baby Teddy in her arms. As she drew level with him, he saw that Teddy’s hair was now a vivid shade of orange, the exact colour of the Weasleys’ hair. Smiling, Harry drew them both into an embrace, and kissed Ginny softly, cradling her in his arms and looking down at her and Teddy.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ she said, kissing his cheek delicately.

‘How do you know?’ he asked looking down into her deep brown eyes.

‘I know.’ she said simply, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘What now?’ he asked, feeling time opening like a maw before him, threatening to swallow him whole. His task had been accomplished; his all-important purpose fulfilled.

‘Now we live.’ She said, tears shining in her eyes, though none fell. ‘There’s work to be done.’ He smiled at the thought. Though Fred and Lupin and Tonks and Sirius and Dumbledore were gone, Ginny was here, and Teddy was here, and Harry, despite all he had been through, was here.

They embraced under the starry sky as a phoenix firework soared past, emitting sparks and tongues of flame and Harry heard its song in his chest and for the first time in seventeen years, contemplated a future that was totally his own.

[sitp-recs]

Dear Liv, first of all thank you for your contributions to his fandom, I’ve found and loved so many wonderful fics thanks to you!

After reading SG’s Turn, I’d love to read more epilogue compliant Drarry fics, preferably mature or explicit, but I don’t know where to start. I was wondering if you had any favorite epilogue compliant fics to rec? Sorry if you’ve already answered a similar ask. Tysm!!

Hi anon! I feel like I haven’t contributed much to fandom lately but thank you, that’s very sweet 😘 I’m a bit picky about epilogue-compliant bc I don’t really care for het ships or kid fics and many of them involve infidelity which is not my usual jam (but I’m willing make an exception for Frayach’s brilliant Breaking All the Rules).

I listed below some recs with divorced Drarry and would suggest checking this epilogue-compliant compilation by @gameofdrarry and maybe take a look at authors like Lomonaaeren and Gracerene, they’ve written a few epilogue-compliant stories. Enjoy!

A Song, Incomplete by RurouniHime (E, 11k)

Draco’s photograph took up the entire top half of the Prophet’s front page. Below the photo: DRACO MALFOY DEFENDS SON OF FORMER LOVER. As if that were breaking news.

The Weight of a Wanting Heart by Femme (E, 12k)

After nearly two decades hidden away in the Wiltshire countryside, Draco Malfoy’s surprised to see a familiar face come into his local.

Lost and Found by rillalicious (M, 16k)

Hermione is an auditor for the Ministry. When she comes across an intriguing case with a familiar name, she turns to her favorite Auror for help.

Written in the Stars by November Snowflake (M, 16k)

Draco watches as his son grows up--and maybe does a little growing up of his own.

Once Upon A Time, Yesterday by Femme (E, 22k)

"You've always been obsessed with Malfoy, Harry. That should probably tell you something."

Dating for Dads in Denial by @aibidil (T, 25k)

In which one wizard designs and another reluctantly patronises a magical matchmaking service, amidst the chaos of children and parenting.

Homecoming by November Snowflake (E, 27k)

Harry thinks spending two weeks as a guest lecturer at Hogwarts will offer the perfect chance to get away from his troubles. Then he meets his assigned faculty guide: Potions Master Draco Malfoy.

Time is a Construct series by @gracerene (E, 29k)

Draco's in a bit of a rut. He's nearing forty, divorced, and he still can't figure out how to make his Time Turner reconstruction work. He's bored, he can admit it, so he's not nearly as concerned as he should be when his pet project malfunctions and sends him twenty years into the past. That is, until he ends up relying on a nineteen-year-old Harry Potter for help and starts developing some very inconvenient—and possibly reciprocated—feelings.

Paper Rings by @lettersbyelise (E, 50k)

When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart.

2020, 2021 by newleaves (M, 64k)

Harry’s going through a divorce. It’s a love story, really.

When Times are Dire by @aibidil (E, 130k)

Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy.

This Ain't the Garden of Eden by @romaine2424 (E, 131k)

In 2020, Hit Wizard Harry is starting to enjoy his life. He’s divorced, and no longer Head Auror. His biggest project these days is trying to remodel 12 Grimmauld Place for him and the kids. Draco Malfoy is recovering from his wife’s death. But is happy with his Ministry position as Temporary Head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances, and with his son who he adores. This all changes quickly when Minister Shacklebolt decides not to run for another term.

[lizpaige]

snippet sunday 🫣

okay i've got another snippet sunday post because i started writing something ridiculously fluffy based on some fic idea posts i've written and i gotta share a little. idk if i will ever finish and post it but here you go!

In the morning, he woke to the sound of the back door slamming and Matthew’s loudly whispered apology. Rubbing his eyes he saw the curtains billowing in from the window, letting in the cool morning air. His phone read a little before eight, but Adam felt like he had just fallen asleep. He rolled over, threw an arm over Ronan’s waist and grumbled into his chest. 

Ronan’s voice was deep and rough when he whispered, “good morning.”

“Shh,” Adam replied, determined to get another hour, thirty minutes, something. He was nearly drifting off again when Ronan jostled him. He groaned in protest.

“Adam.”

Another groan.

“Adam.”

He whined. 

“Adam.” 

“What? What do you want?” 

“Marry me.”

Adam’s eyes shot open. His brain was sluggish on a good morning, but he had been spoiled with being able to manage more than six hours of sleep the last two years. He wasn’t used to having to think this early, this sleep deprived. But this… this was…

“What?”

[lpmurphy]

And that’s a wrap. 🥲💜

[dewitty1]

Paper Rings

lettersbyelise @lettersbyelise

Chapters: 10/10 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Millicent Bulstrode, Blaise Zabini, James Sirius Potter, Albus Severus Potter, Lily Luna Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Original Dog Character(s), Original Characters Additional Tags: Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Divorced Astoria Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Journalist Harry, Lawyer Draco Malfoy, Past Relationship(s), Getting Back Together, Secret Relationship, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Break Up, no infidelity, Angst, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Anal Sex, First Time, lots of eye fucking, Hair-pulling, Top Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Potter, Implied Switching, Masturbation, cake disasters, Happy Ending, Divorce, Weddings, Mildly Unprofessional Behavior, Skirting the Boundaries of Lawyer-Client Relationship Ethics, H/D Wireless 2022

Summary:

When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart.

What Harry and Draco used to be is all in the past. And surely they can work together in these new, emotionally charged circumstances without falling in love all over again… can’t they?

Excerpt:

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Potter admitted, gaze falling to Draco’s lips.

“Just keep looking at me like that,” Draco whispered, and leaned down to kiss him.

It was a question, first, a gentle brush of lips, the warmth of Potter’s breath feathering against Draco’s skin. Draco pulled back a fraction. He held Potter’s face, thumbs on his cheekbones. Potter looked at him as Draco had asked. He looked at Draco like he would never look away. The intimacy of it was almost unbearable. 

“I’ve no idea what I’m doing either,” Draco confessed. 

“It’s all right.” Potter nudged Draco’s nose with his. “You’re doing all right.”

Heat surged between them, and they kissed again. It was impossible to tell who had made the move this time. Both. Neither. Potter held him close, opened his mouth for Draco, and Draco sank into the kiss. He threaded his fingers through Potter’s thick hair, marvelling that he was allowed to touch him like this. He pulled, tilted Potter’s head to deepen the kiss, and Potter moaned into his mouth. Draco was hard in seconds, and he handled Potter back against a locker. Potter’s back hit the metal door with a dull, hollow sound, and they both arched into each other, hard and panting, hands entwined. It was different this time. Draco’d been right. The kiss changed everything. Standing here in the middle of the locker rooms, Potter’s hands on his face, Potter’s mouth on his, the soft, wet, electric feel of his tongue stroking Draco’s. He’d been angry when Potter had shoved him into that alcove a few days ago. Potter’s hand on his cock had felt like revenge. But this felt nothing like their mindless rutting. This felt like—like holding Potter like a lover. Like letting him lay Draco open, letting him peruse the contents of his heart. This was hope, fear, confusion, lust, tenderness all wrapped up in one big sweeping tide.

And Draco didn’t think he would recover from it.

They drew apart eventually, breathing hard, forehead against forehead. Potter’s green eyes were fixed on Draco’s. Draco had asked him to look, and Potter had listened. Draco hadn’t expected such obedience from the stubborn git. The intensity of Potter’s stare was hard to hold, but Draco stared back bravely.

He lifted an eyebrow that he hoped looked sardonic. 

“Romance, Potter?”

Potter shrugged, a small smile on his kiss-swollen lips. “Do you have anything better to do?”

[jonathanrook]

at what point do i have to admit my ****** playlist is actually three playlists in a trench coat and i should probably separate them

[neixins]

and if i say i’m also gonna write a postcanon companion/epilogue piece to the novella-length fic i’m still working on.. what then……

[startsbeatboxing]

READ MY FIC GAYBOY

[four2andnew]

A quick fic from my drives while I'm frustrated with A Rose in Winter