#harry james potter

[hedwigette]

Last time I pointed out Harry's characteristics I've been accused of having an abuse kink so at this point I think it's Harry himself who has it 😅

“don’t project YOUR issues onto that fictional man” i’m not even doing anything. he’s doing all that shit himself. sorry for spotting patterns. observing. understanding nuances. i guess

[upthehillnsfw]

Commission for @okay-sky❤️‍🔥

Click for full version / Alternative

[rainydayathogwarts]

A job for a godparent - Harry Potter

summary: harry knows you're the love of his life, but he just needs to know that you want kids as much as he does. a day at his house over the summer confirms it. wc: 0.8k+ harry's parents and sirius and rem are all alive. sirius and remus have a kid.

Harry had known he wanted a big family for as long as he could remember. He always enjoyed having his uncles around every day, living next door to him and his parents, but he knew that there would be one difference between him and his kids: they would have siblings.

You and Harry had been dating for a while, but he had no idea where you stood on the idea of having children. Did you hate them? Worse. Did they hate you? Harry spent countless nights thinking about it. What if you didn’t want children? It would break his poor little heart. Sure, Harry could just ask you about it but he was worried you’d think he’s moving too fast with the relationship. He just wanted to find out before he was in it too deep. It was a little late for that though, because the boy was already committed.

You came around to Harry’s house often, and his parents absolutely adored you. There was an air of elegance and composure around you that kept Harry in check, and both he and his parents were convinced that you were the woman Harry was going to marry.

Today was no different. It was a beautiful summer day, and you’d spent the morning with Harry, sharing not so secret kisses in his bedroom and talking about the year ahead while his parents and uncles spent time together downstairs. He looked at you with eyes of adoration, watching every minor movement you made: the slight tug of your lips into a shy smile or the sigh that escaped your lips as he kissed you softly. Around midday, when the sun was shining the strongest, Harry suggested to go swimming in the lake overlooking the backyard.

Your charming boyfriend had put his hands on your waist, pressing soft kisses on your neck and making suggestive jokes about taking your clothes off before he had been shooed away. He went to the bathroom to get changed, telling you he’d gather all the essentials and meet you downstairs, leaving you in his bedroom. When you were secured in your bikini, sure that Harry would struggle to untie it later today, you quickly threw on your cover-up and swung the door open, a gasp leaving your lips almost instantly when you saw the intrusion in the hallway.

A young girl, no older than the age of two or three, was walking on wobbly legs and sniffling softly. At your gasp, the girl turned around, the momentum sending her off her feet and onto the ground. You crouched down, sure that this was Harry’s uncles’ daughter who your boyfriend speaks about so often. “Hey sweetheart, is everything okay?” The toddler shook her head, bottom lip wobbling with a threat of crying. “Are you looking for your dad?” You asked softly, unsure if she could understand you at all.

She did. With a nod of her head, the girl repeated “Dada.”

You extended your arms towards her, which seemed like enough convincing for the girl who pushed herself off the ground to walk straight into your arms. “I’ll take you to dada, yeah?” You stood up, balancing her on your hip and taking careful steps towards the stairs. Your heart instantly warmed up when she rested her head on your shoulder, her small arms hugging you loosely, curly hair splayed over your shoulder.

You instantly spotted Harry and his family once you reached the bottom of the staircase, sitting next to the empty fireplace. Harry held a couple of towels, and was exchanging jokes with his family, but all eyes turned towards you and the toddler in your arms when you stepped closer to them. Remus immediately stood up at the sight of his teary eyed princess, and you said “Uh, she was looking for you in the hallway.” “Thanks love.” He said, lifting his precious daughter from your arms, who instantly started repeating her dad’s name with a smile.

During the small exchange you had failed to notice Harry’s reaction to you with the child, his jaw slack and a look of absolute adoration in his eyes at the sight of you handling his cousin with such natural movements. He was frozen in place, incapable of tearing his gaze off you, despite the amused look his mother was watching him with.

“Are we going outside?” You asked, tearing Harry out of his daze. He nodded eagerly, wordlessly following outside and narrowly missing the look his parents shot each other. “He’s just like you.” Lily mumbled, watching through the big glass doors as Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple softly. “Would have a dozen more if you'd let me... We’ve just got to warn him not to get her pregnant before they graduate.” Lily hummed, deciding “I’m not the one having that conversation with him.” James cursed before his head snapped up, gaze stuck on his two best friends.

“Yeah, that’s a job for his godparents.”

Safe to say, Harry was horrified Sirius pulled him aside for that conversation the very next day. But that didn’t stop him from going over to your house and making love to you like he wanted to give you a baby right then and there.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

House Party | Drarry

feat. Draco Malfoy x roommate!reader x Harry Potter

summary: all your friends come over for dinner party at your shared flat. little do they know, you've been fucking your roommates in secret for weeks. when one of them makes a move on you, your boys decide to remind you who you belong to.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, spit roasting, mfm, praise kink, switch!Harry, dom!draco, drinking, smoking, fluff, guyliner, Draco's a slut

an: I just passed 2,000 followers!! I love you all so much and I'm so grateful for the community I've found here. and what better way to celebrate than with our two favorite boys??

more drarry!roommate au | masterlist | requests open

Crossed legged on your vanity stool, you set down your blush and accessed your reflection. Too pink? Not enough?

“Looks gorgeous, baby.” A voice interrupted your pondering, low and sweetened with affection—Harry.

“It's not too much?” You asked, turning to look at him. He was leaned against the doorway, a pink wine cooler in his hand, already dressed for the party starting in over an hour. A white t-shirt, undone flannel, and light wash jeans, black hair messy and a little overgrown.

He had no business looking so effortlessly hot all the time.

“Definitely not too much.” He pushed off the door jam and crossed the room to you, setting the drink on the vanity for you. “Your makeup always looks perfect,” he said, tilting your chin up to get a closer look, his fingers cold from the bottle. “I like the, uh—the pink stuff.” He tapped the apple of your cheek gently with his pointer finger.

“Blusher,” you supplied. “And you only think that because you don't know anything about makeup,” you argued, despite the smile tugging at your lips.

“I know that you’ve looked beautiful every second of every day that I've known you, and that has to count for something—”

You swatted his broad chest, rolling your eyes and turning back to your makeup. “You're so full of it,” you laughed.

Grinning, he flopped onto your freshly made mattress, an arm folded behind his head, bulging bicep on full display. “You're about to be full of it—”

“Harry!” You scolded, tossing a brush at him.

He caught it without looking, spinning it around his fingers with a cheeky smirk. “What can I say? You bring it out in me.”

Another eye roll. You take a swig of your drink and grab your eyeliner, bracing your elbows on the table. You can feel Harry watching with abject horror when you paint your waterline. He gasped dramatically when you make a quick flick, resulting in a crooked, lightly smudged wing.

“Shit. Harry!” You huffed.

“I didn't do anything!” He laughed. “You're the one about to stab your eye out—”

“I am not! You're distracting me!—”

Something mischievous glinted in his green eyes. “Oh, you think that's distracting?” Harry hooked his foot under your stool, jerking you back towards the bed.

“Hey!”

“What are you children going on about?” Draco appeared in the doorway, half-dressed in trousers and a sleeveless undershirt.

“Harry made me mess up my eyeliner,” you scowled, turning back to the mirror. You attempted the wing again, only for it to skip and pull a little too long.

“He did?” Draco tsked, casting Harry an authoritative glare as he strode towards you, his equine legs taking him across the room in a few unhurried strides.

“I did not!” Harry argued. “I'm just sitting here, minding my own business—”

“Saints sake!” You cursed, pouting at yet another failed wing attempt.

“Do you need help, darling?” Draco asked, gently taking the eyeliner from your fingers.

“You can do eyeliner?” You asked, brows lifting.

He smirked, long fingers reaching out to grasp your jaw and tilt your head back. “Why so surprised?”

“Because you don't wear eyeliner?”

“My father taught me when I was kid,” he clarified. “It's something he does for my mom all time. Close your eyes, love.”

You were speechless, shocked that Lucius Malfoy not only willingly did his wife's makeup for her, but cared enough to teach Draco how to do it too. Something fluttery bloomed in your chest; Draco was doing it for you. Even Harry had fallen silent, watching with rapt attention.

This is how things were between the three of you—from silly friends one moment, to almost saccharine domestic sweetness another, then near-debilitating lust. Sexual tension so taught, you feared it would throttle you.

It was confusing, exhilarating, and deeply complicated. But it was worth it to have even a small piece of them.

Your closed your eyes, breath hitching when his grip tightened a fraction on your jaw, holding you steady.

“Breathe,” he instructed, his voice coming from much closer now, tinged with spearmint, and you loosed a shaky exhale. “Good girl. Now hold still for me.”

Your heart rate accelerated, thrumming eagerly under your skin. It was staggering how quickly he could send you reeling.

So light it almost tickled, Draco swiped a smooth arch above your upper lashes, flicking just a bit at the edges. With his thumb nail, he sharpened it to a point. An expert maneuver that had your belly somersaulting. He repeated the motions on the other eye, his hand delicate on your face so as not to disturb your other makeup.

“Open your eyes at take a look,” he murmured, and you obeyed, blinking up at him. Merlin, he's gorgeous. With his regal bone structure and those bewitching blue eyes. He smiled at you, catching your lingering stare, and leaned down to peck your lips. “Look at yourself, love, not me.”

You turned, eyes immediately snagging on yourself, and the sultry, flawless eyeliner he'd bestowed up on you.

“How the hell are you so good at that?” You asked, leaning in to get a closer look.

Harry got up and leaned over you, making an appreciate oooh. “Damn, Malfoy. If Auror-ing fails, you've got a back up career as a makeup artist,” he said, smiling over the blond.

Draco chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear while he admired his hand work. “Happy to help.”

“Your turn!” You whirled around and tackled Draco onto your bed, eyeliner lofted high.

He caught your wrist, grip tight enough to immobilize your arm, but not enough to hurt. He tsked, shaking his head at you. “Gonna have to be quicker than that, pet,” he chided, amusement glittering in his eyes.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, spreading your knees to lower yourself fully onto his lap. “Please?” You fluttered your lashes, tilting your hips just slightly to press against the growing ridge in his pants. He swallowed hard, eyes flitting down to where your bodies touched.

Harry snickered. “You're not playing fair, lovely,” he hummed, plucking the eyeliner from your fingers.

“But he would look so hot,” you argued, and Draco scoffed, releasing your wrist and resting his hands on your thighs.

Harry contemplated this, tapping his chin with the eyeliner. “That's a fair point.” And he handed you the eyeliner back.

“I don't get a say in this?” Draco huffed.

“Nope, you can wash it off after if you don't like it,” you chirped, uncapping it with your teeth and leaning down towards him.

“You know, it's unsanitary to share eye makeup—”

“Quiet, unless you want me to poke out your eyeball. Look up for me,” you ordered in your best Draco impression, and Harry laughed again.

Draco rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.

“Good boy,” you purred, and you felt his cock surge beneath you, Adam’s Apple bombing in his throat.

You drew a short line just under his lower lashes, barely more than a dot of product, and smudged it out with your pinky. Just enough to give him a little bit of a shadow.

When you pulled back, his eyes flicked back down to you, blinking away the little bit of water the collected. Your breath hitched in your lungs. His eyes looked almost silver, brighter than you'd ever seen them with that little bit of extra contrast.

“That's not fair,” Harry whined. “How can he get hotter?”

You set the eyeliner down, grinning triumphantly, until Draco bucked you off, flipping your bodies around before you'd even registered you were moving.

“And what do you think?” He asked, voice low and vaguely threatening.

Your brain short-circuited, completely mesmerized by his eyes. “I, uh—”

Draco smirked. “Not so bold now, are we?” He teased, leaning down to place a singular, open-mouthed kiss to your neck before pushing himself up, releasing you from his hold. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready.” He turned, pausing to pass a smoothing hand through Harry's hair before exiting your bedroom.

“It's not fair,” Harry grumbled, scratching his head where Draco just touched.

“You're gorgeous too,” you said, wrapping your arms around his middle. “You want some blusher?”

He barked a laugh, carding his fingers through your hair to tilt your head back to steal a kiss himself. “I’d hate to steal his thunder,” he joked, lowering his voice.

You giggled, pinching his cheek before pressing a kiss to it. “Natural blush, then?”

“Fiiine,” he smiled, pulling you up to standing. “Anything for you.”

You finished getting ready and joined Harry out in the living room, setting up the snacks and ambiance, getting the final details in order before your friends arrived.

You leaned over the counter, adjusting the candles at the center, when a heavy weight pressed against your back. Hands trailing up the fronts of your thighs, sliding under the hem as they pulled you closer.

“Sorry, lovely,” Harry purred, nosing into the back of your neck. “Couldn't resist.”

You could feel why against the fat of your ass, his cock throbbing eagerly under his jeans.

“They'll be here any minute,” you giggled, arching your back to press against him.

He groaned, calloused hands tightening around your fleshy thighs. “We'll cancel.”

“And eat all the snacks ourselves?” A breathy sigh stuttered from your throat when he rocked against you.

“Yeah, yeah—” he rasped, mouthing at the top of your spine. “Will need to refuel for round two—”

“You two are insatiable.” Draco’s accusatory voice cut through your haze like a lance.

Harry didn't relent, straightening. “Can you blame me?” Harry chuckled, his hands smoothing down the curve of your spine, the flare of your hips.

Draco hummed, and you turned your head to look at him. And oh, did he look good. Black fitted t-shirt tucked into his slightly baggy trousers, a patent leather belt cinching in that slutty little waist, silver rings on his fingers and chain around his neck. His eyes practically glowed from the eyeliner, giving him just that little bit of an edge, almost Bowie-like.

You extended a hand out to him, making a grabby motion, and he smirked.

“I have to admit, the eyeliner is growing on me,” he said, gently taking your hand and brushing a kiss along your knuckles. “But still, we're going to have to work on your manners.” He rotated your arm, bending your elbow to press your hand against your lower back. Harry caught your wrist, pining it down and pressing you harder against the cold granite.

“Seems well behaved to me,” Harry praised, his free hand trailing higher between your legs. “Isn't that right, baby?”

You nodded, thighs trembling as he inched higher, higher—

Knock knock!

Harry jumped back from you and Draco's head snapped up, scowling like someone personally offended him.

You straightened, smoothing your dress and taking a swig of your drink, willing the throbbing between your legs to subside.

“Sorry, love,” Harry said, pecking your cheek before rushing to open the door.

Draco shook his head and stalked over to the bar, uncapping the fire whisky and filling his glass.

“Harry, you will not believe what happened at work today.” Hermione charged in, jumping headfirst into a story about her idiotic supervisor.

Ron trailed in behind her, laden with takeout bags and a twelve pack that Harry helped him unload.

Hermione only paused her story to throw her arms around you, greeting you with one of those bearish hugs she was so good at it. Ron waved from across the island with a shy smile.

“Merlin sakes, Grainger. Do you ever stop talking?” Draco droned, leaning against the island beside you, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Unlike you, I actually have interesting things to say,” she bit back, pulling him down for a hug that he pretended to hate.

The boys ventured out to the fire escape, taking Draco's immaculate prerolls with them, leaving you and Hermione cozied up on the couch. But it wasn't long before Theo, Blaise, and Pansy arrived.

“Eccola lì!” Theo cried, handing you a gorgeous bouquet of roses and wrapping you up in a big hug. “I’ve missed you, carina,” he cooed, an incorrigible flirt as always.

“Hi, Theo,” you giggled, slipping away to hug the other two before tracking down a vase.

“What the fuck, Nott!” Draco shouted, throwing up the window, a plume of smoke pouring in. “Where are my flowers?”

“Sod off!” Theo shouted back. “Grainger, darling, if I’d known you'd be here, I’d have brought you the most gorgeous—”

“Watch it, Theodore,” Ron chuckled, his eyes already bloodshot, his smile melty. “Get your own bird, yeah?”

“Lo farò,” he purred, winking at you.

“Ignore him,” Pansy laughed, helping you fill the vase with water. “He got rejected this morning at the café, so he's feeling sensitive.”

“Oi!” He yelled over his shoulder as he climbed outside.

Blaise rolled his eyes and peeled away from Pansy’s hip, helping himself to the whiskey and sinking into the couch beside Hermione, launching into questions about her work. Pansy joined the boys on the porch, bringing out a tray of chips to uproarious applause.

Draco climbed back inside after her, swallowing the rest of his whiskey, and joined you in the kitchen, taking the roses from your hands.

“Thorns?” He asked, checking the stems. “I'll take care of it, go get a drink,” he murmured, fingers lingering on your lower back, hidden by the island, before he turned away.

“Thanks, D,” you said, squeezing his shoulder as you slipped past him and out of the kitchen. You grabbed another wine cooler and headed out to the fire escape, earning a trill of applause yourself.

Harry was perched on the steps, Ron on his left, while Pansy and Theo leaned against the railings. You turned towards Harry, but Theo caught you first, slinging an arm over your shoulder and tugging you into his side.

“Now the parties started,” Theo joked, offering the half-smoked blunt between his fingers.

You couldn't help but glance at Harry, who was watching you from the corner of his eye while chatting about classes that week with Ron.

If you were honest, you wanted a hit from Harry’s joint, preferably directly from his mouth, but you couldn't exactly refuse Theo and go to Harry without letting the cat out of the bag.

But would that be so terrible? You trusted your friends to not leak the news, and hiding what the three of you were was proving harder than you'd anticipated.

Sure, you weren’t a couple, but it was easy to forget what the arrangement actually was when it was just the three of you in the flat, free to express your affection however and whenever you wanted.

Going back to being friends, even if it was just temporary, was leaving your heart a little bruised.

“I'm okay, Theo. Thanks, though,” you said, offering as sweet a smile as you could muster, and Harry visibly relaxed in your periphery.

“Tranquilla,” Theo said, taking a hit himself and relinquishing his hold on you.

As casually as you could, you sidestepped to sit on the steps beneath Harry, his shins at your back, and started chatting with Pansy about her and Blaise’s upcoming nuptials.

A few minutes later, something heavy and warm dropped on your shoulders, wafting a familiar, amber-scented cologne over you. Harry's flannel.

You curled your fingers around the collar, wrapping it tighter around you, and felt like you could breathe for the first time since everyone arrived.

He offered you his blunt, holding it carefully between his fingers so you could hold onto the flannel. The acrid burn filled your lungs, cast a haze over your mind, and you exhaled, letting the smoke carry your racing thoughts to the stars.

"Better stop looking so damn kissable before I do something stupid," he muttered against your ear, a shiver rolling down your spine. Before you could respond, he leaned back against the stairs, slipping back into conversation with Ron like nothing happened.

A few hours passed, traveling back and forth from the fire escape to the living room, but as the evening wore on, it was too cold to sit outside. So everyone crammed into the living room, sprawled out on the couches and cushions tossed onto the floor.

You were stretched out on the floor between Draco and Theo, the latter seeming more interested in you than usual. He'd barely left your side all night, jumping up every time your drink was empty, or you eyeballed a snack for a few extra seconds.

They were reminiscing on their Hogwarts days, swapping stories and laughing. You were a year below them, and had only really known them from afar, so you just listened, and laughed when everyone else did.

“What'd you think of us back then, carina?” Theo asked, bumping his knee against yours.

Draco and Harry perked up a bit.

“I mean…” you trailed off, glancing around the group as heat crawled up your neck. “He’s Harry Potter. We were all a little starstruck.”

Harry flushed, and everyone but Draco laughed.

“And Hermione, I would write down your class schedule to try and copy it so I could be as smart as you—clearly, a failure,” you added, and Hermione blew you a kiss.

“Theo and Blaise, you guys stole my Charms coursework once, so…”

Theo balked, and Blaise snickered.

“I would never do such a thing,” Theo argued, clutching his gold chain like it was a string of pearls.

Immediately, everyone launched into different stories where Theo had done that and worse.

“Alright, alright! Stronzo’s,” he muttered, pouting.

“And Draco,” you said, finally turning towards the sulking blond. Were you really about to admit this out loud? “I had an absolutely debilitating crush on you.”

“Whaaaat?!” Everyone cried, and Draco's scowl lifted to a smirk, something warm blooming in his glacial eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes, slumping back against the couch, but Draco drew your attention back with an arm snaking around your waist.

“Did you?” He cooed, tugging you into his side. “How adorable.”

You shoved him away, giggling, though he didn't let you go far, socked feet still touching. “I was young, and had questionable taste!”

Everyone howled with laughter, and Draco chuckled, though his eyes promised you'd regret those words. And you couldn't wait.

They dove back into conversation, and you slipped away to check your makeup and calm your racing heart.

A soft knock startled you from your vanity, and you turned, expecting Harry or Draco, but were surprised to find Theo leaning against the door jam.

“Didn't mean to scare you, amore,” he said, eyes sweeping over you, openly appreciative.

“Oh, uh—it’s okay. What's up, Theo?” You asked, setting down your powder brush.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me this week?” He asked, and your stomach dropped. “I think we'd have a lot of fun,” he added, sensing your hesitation.

“Oh, Theo. I—I’m not really in a ‘dating’ place right now,” you said, fidgeting a bit. “But, I appreciate the offer.”

Theo smiled, though it wasn't exactly friendly. “Still have a crush on Malfoy, hm?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don't need a reason, Theo,” you bit, crossing your arms over your chest.

He held up his hands. “I know, I know. That's not what I was trying to imply. Mi dispiace. I had a feeling you'd say no, but figured I'd try my luck anyways. Your reasons are your own.”

You nodded stiffly, still a bit perturbed by the interaction.

“But, if you do still have a crush on Malfoy—”

“What’s that, Nott?” Draco suddenly appeared over Theo's shoulder, expression dark as a burgeoning storm.

Theo glanced at him, then back to you, still wearing the mischievous smirk. Apparently oblivious to the trap he'd stepped in. “Buona fortuna, carina,” he said, lifted like a farewell, and stepped back into the hall, leaving Malfoy fuming by your door.

“Draco—”

“He asked you out?” Draco asked, leveling you with those piercing eyes.

“And I turned him down,” you retorted, irritation flaring at the possessive way he was acting.

He was the one that suggested this arrangement, wasn't he? He made his bed. You weren't his. Not officially.

Something in your tone broke through the fog of war, and his expression softened.

“Can't say I blame the poor sod,” he said after a moment, eyes drifting down your body. “But I can say that I don't feel all that bad for him.”

You shook your head, walking towards the door to head back to the party. “Try not to look so smug,” you teased, pecking his cheek as you passed by him.

But his arm shot out, hooking you around the middle and flipping you around to press your back against the doorway, his body looming over yours.

“How could I not be?” He murmured, dragging his nose along your temple, the heat of him wrapping around you like a blanket. You could look nowhere but him, completely engulfed in his aura. “I've got such a pretty little thing wrapped around my finger.”

You rolled your eyes, but made no move to escape, the party with all your friends just down the hall completely forgotten. You only wished it was Harry you were pressed up against instead of the wall. Sandwiched between them was your favorite place to be.

His lips trailed down your neck, the feather light contact sparking along your skin like a live wire, and you gasped, arching into him.

“Is it too early to send everyone home?” You whined, raking your fingers through his hair. There was something deeply satisfying about being the one to ruin his always immaculate appearance.

“Just say the word and you'll never see any of them again,” he promised, earning a giggle from you.

“That seems excessive,” you teased.

“I disagree entirely—”

“I'm sorry to be a cock-block, but our guests grow suspicious.” Harry's voice filled the empty hall, and you felt Draco sigh against your neck before stepping back.

“I don't think you're sorry at all,” Draco chastised, throwing Harry a sardonic grin.

Harry shrugged, smirking back. “C’mon, lovely. They're trying to argue that the Demiguise is uglier than Grindylow.”

You gasped. “What?” and raced back out into the living room.

An hour later, you lead Pansy and Blaise to the door, waving goodbye to your final guests and hopping you didn't seem to eager to have them leave.

When you returned to the living room, you found Draco already picking up empty bottles and cans, while Harry was sprawled out on the floor amid the aftermath of the party, leaning back against the couch.

You thought about going to help Draco, but Harry looked far too cozy to pass up.

Harry grinned when you approached, crooked and honey-sweet, and it made your heart skip a beat. “Hi, pretty,” he said, opening his arms to you.

You sank to the ground and laid against his chest, one leg slung over his. “Have fun?” you asked, pecking his cheek. “Seemed to get a little jealous earlier.”

He shrugged. “M’fine,” he muttered, his tone shifting at the mention of Theo’s advances.

You didn’t buy it. Lightly, you dragged your fingertips down his chest, feeling his muscles twitch and bounce under your touch, and leaned in. “Are you lying to me?” you asked, breath fanning across his cheek.

“No, no—I, uh, I’m fine,” he stammered, breath hitching when you leaned in to kiss along the flush crawling up his neck. “Never been better,” he added, a little breathless.

You smiled, pulling at his earlobe with your teeth, before kitten licking the shell. He was trembling a little, his hand on your waist growing heavier, fingers curling around the bunched fabric of your dress.

“So, you don’t need me to show you how much I adore you?” You asked, pulling back a bit.

“No—yes, I—fuck, please don't stop—” He cupped your face, reeling you in for a messy, indulgent kiss. Lips slick with spit, tongue heavy with his lingering high and sweetened by booze, prying apart teeth to get to the softness of you. “Show me, please?” he mumbled against your mouth, breathing labored under the weight of his desire.

How could you refuse such a sweet request?

You shifted down, kissing along the valley of his sternum towards his navel, his skin deliciously warm through his thin shirt. Once settled between his thighs, you quickly undid his belt and fly, freeing him from the confines of his jeans. His cock was already throbbing, flushed with arousal and leaking pearls of precum. So sensitive, he hissed through his teeth when the cold air of the room kissed his fevered skin.

“You need me this badly, darling?” you cooed, blowing air on the rosy head to tease him further.

His chin bobbed, his entire body rigid with tension. “Please, baby, please touch me,” he whimpered.

Taking pity on him, you wrapped your lips around the head, flicking over his slit with your tongue. His whole body shuddered, a broken little groan slipping through is teeth. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, the hot, heavy slide of his silken skin on your tongue making your thighs clench, honey leaking through your underwear.

“F-fuck,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. “Feels so good—you’re so good.” His thighs flexed with the effort of not bucking into your mouth, desperate to keep still so you didn’t stop.

You hummed in appreciation, taking him as deep as you could manage, tongue swiping along the root of him. Drool was collecting at his base, stringy as you lifted up and down, making a mess of his boxers and yourself.

“Look at you,” Draco cooed, startling you when you felt fingers glide through your hair. “Such a fucking mess.” He collected your hair into a ponytail, starting to lift and lower you on Harry’s length.

“Draco, f-fuck,” Harry moaned.

Draco chuckled, guiding Harry’s hand to hold your hair and releasing you. “You can do it, Harry. She won’t break,” he teased, and you felt Harry’s hand tighten, adding a little more force to your own movements, pushing you a little further each time.

Tears collected at the corners of your eyes, Harry’s thick length making your jaw ache, and the need between your legs bordering on painful.

Then, you felt Draco’s hands slide under your hipbones, lifting you up to your knees in a quick motion and making you slide further down on Harry’s cock, gagging on him.

“Sh, sh, there’s a good girl,” Draco soothed, pushing your dress up over your hips, and rolling down your sodden panties. His fingers ghosted over your cunt, applying the lightest pressure, and you keened, the sound muffled by Harry’s length. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll only stop when you do,” he challenged, circling the pool of moisture at your entrance before dipping a finger inside your heat.

You moaned again, redoubling your efforts on Harry to encourage Draco's fingers, rocking back against him as you bobbed up and down Harry's length. Harry was a mess beneath, gasping and whimpering, a sheen of sweat making his shirt stick to his skin, his dark hair cling to his forehead. Even his poor glasses were fogging up.

“Merlin sakes, baby—” Harry grunted when you swallowed around him, taking him deeper than before.

Draco rewarded you with a curl of his fingers, prodding that ruinous spot that had your whole body tingling, eyes rolling back in your head. “You take that cock so well, love. Such a perfect little cocksucker, aren't you?”

You nodded, pleasure unspooling in your belly and making your limbs grow heavy, wanting to dissolve onto the floor and let them ravaged you. Take what's theirs.

“Look so pretty,” Harry cooed, his free hand cupping your jaw, stroking away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Tell us how pretty you feel,” Draco instructed, his fingers withdrawing from your heat.

You pulled off of Harry, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I feel so pretty. Thank you for making me feel so pretty,” you babble, reaching back to grab Draco and squeezing Harry's thigh.

Both men grinned, tutting proudly, and your reward prodded against your entrance, much thicker than a finger.

Harry guided you back down to his cock. “Remember, lovely. Don't stop unless you want him to.”

You nodded, lapping at the mess you'd made around his base. Draco swirled his cockhead through your folds, lubricating himself, mimicking the movement of your tongue.

Carefully, you took Harry into your mouth, slowly sinking down his length while Draco pushed into you, just as careful. Stretched perfectly, deliriously full. Pleasure dripped from between your legs, flooding your mind and body. You reached for them again, needing an anchor in the storm, and they both reached back for you, Harry hands over your on his chest, and Draco's fingers twined with yours on your shoulder.

“All ours, hm?” Draco gruffed, rocking his hips into you, his iron length dragging against your gummy walls. “Our mouth, our cunt—” he snapped his hips forward, sending you down on Harry's cock and making you gag. “If only Theo could see you now…”

You shook your head as best you could. “Omphly yours,” you mumbled, tongue squished against your teeth by Harry's girth. Harry keened at the feeling, hips stuttering up, the tendons in his neck pulled taught as you felt him start to swell—so fucking close.

“That's right,” Draco purred, stopping his punishing strokes to grind into you, the squelch of your pussy unforgiving, undeniable. “You're both mine.”

You and Harry nodded automatically, letting Draco's pace pull you up and down Harry's length, all of you rocking together like a castaways on a lifeboat, clinging to one another so you weren't pitched into the churning sea.

“F-fuck, ah—I’m so close,” Harry whimpered, hands tightening as he started to tremble, body burning like a furnace beneath you.

“Not yet, Potter,” Draco grunted, his hand sliding from your hip around to your belly, long fingers finding your clit and the sticky mess you'd made between your legs. “Not until she comes.”

It was like Draco struck a match, your whole body lighting up as he worked you with expert precision, knowing your body even better than you did. You tried your best to keep pace sucking Harry, but your mind was starting to fog, limbs going stupid and gelatinous as every nerve pulled taught in your stomach.

Harry whined, head falling back against the couch cushions. “Oh saints—I can't—”

“She’s almost there—you can. C’mon, angel. Come for us—He's been so good, he deserves to come, doesn't he?” Draco was starting to ramble, a tell-tale sign that he was getting close too, his cock thickening, pressing harder against your cervix with every thrust.

“Please, please, please,” Harry pleaded, and you were done for.

Your orgasm crested, the tension severing in your gut and sending you reeling, quivering so hard Draco had to wrap his arm under your hips to keep you upright.

The boys were dragged into oblivion with you, their cries combining into a single roar as they pumped you full of release, painting your insides white as they fucked you and one another through it.

“That's it—so fucking good for us. Did so well,” Draco said, stroking your spine and Harry’s outstretched leg, praising you both. He eased you off of Harry, laying you gently on the carpet and using his wand to clean you both up.

You were completely spent, wrung out like a washcloth. Boneless, brainless, and practically giddy with endorphins.

“You're amazing.” Harry offered you a sip of water, holding your hand while to you recovered. “Smiley girl,” he teased, leaning down to peck the grin tugging at your lips.

“Feel good, darling?” Draco asked, massaging your legs, his own smile breaking through. Viscerally pleased that he had you so thoroughly wrecked.

Harry was trying to be coy, but you could see the possessive gleam in his eye, the greedy way he took stock of every red mark and bead of sweat on your body. “Looking a little starstruck, love," Harry teased.

"Still think you were naive and had questionable taste?” Draco asked.

You shook your head, too breathless to speak, your throat raw and tender in the best way.

Poor Theo didn't stand a chance.

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[hedwigette]

I'm kinda like 99% on agreement with this. But the thing is, he also grinned like a fool when he dreamed about Cho and he had wet dreams about Ginny...

Honestly he's kinda hard to decipher. Sometimes I think he's 100% gay, other times I think he is bi.

He's definitely not straight though 🤣

I feel like JKR kinda put herself into Harry's POV and that's why we got all those contradictory feelings about his sexuality.

Harry Potter is Probably Gay and Here's Why

So.... a lot of this fandom likes to call one Harry James Potter a Bi disaster. Personally, I think he's gay and I can use book text to prove he isn't actually attracted to women at all.

So here goes:

How Harry Describes Men

Harry describes many men as attractive and handsome in the books, not only that but in general Harry goes into more detail when describing male characters. I'll mention it again in a later section in this post, but when describing men, even those Harry doesn't find attractive, he tends to describe much more details about them than about girls he supposedly does find attractive. Something that to me suggests, he doesn't find these girls attractive at all.

Here are some examples of Harry finding men attractive:

Charlie Weasley:

Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. He had a broad, good-natured face, which was weatherbeaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it.

(Goblet of Fire, page 52)

Bill Weasley:

However, Bill was — there was no other word for it — cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. Bill’s clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Harry recognized his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide.

(Goblet of Fire, page 52)

Cedric Diggory:

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen.

(Goblet of Fire, page 71)

Sirius Black:

Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James’s nor Harry’s could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn’t seem to have noticed.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 642)

Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 644)

Firenze:

white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes, the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 598)

Professor McGonagall turned next to Parvati Patil, whose first question was whether Firenze, the handsome centaur, was still teaching Divination

(Half-Blood Prince, page 174)

Blaise Zabini:

He recognized a Slytherin from their year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes

(Half-Blood Prince, page 143)

Draco Malfoy:

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

(Chamber of Secrets, page 133)

Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 79)

A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair

(Goblet of Fire, pages 116-117)

Tom Marvolo Riddle:

There was no trace of the Gaunts in Tom Riddle’s face. Merope had got her dying wish: He was his handsome father in miniature, tall for eleven years old, dark-haired, and pale

(Half-Blood Prince, page 269)

The door creaked open. There on the threshold, holding an oldfashioned lamp, stood a boy Harry recognized at once: tall, pale, dark-haired, and handsome — the teenage Voldemort.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 364)

Harry recognized Voldemort at once. His was the most handsome face and he looked the most relaxed of all the boys.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 369)

followed by a tall young man Harry had no difficulty whatsoever in recognizing as Voldemort. He was plainly dressed in a black suit; his hair was a little longer than it had been at school and his cheeks were hollowed, but all of this suited him; he looked more handsome than ever.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 434)

I don't think anyone would argue Harry isn't attracted to men... He's kind of obvious. What I want to go more into detail about is him not being attracted to women, as that's what I think I disagree with most of the fandom about.

How Harry Describes Women (for comparison)

So, we saw how Harry describes men, specifically men he finds attractive, so, let's compare to how he describes a girl he thinks is pretty, like Cho Chang:

Harry couldn’t help noticing, nervous as he was, that she was extremely pretty. She smiled at Harry as the teams faced each other behind their captains, and he felt a slight lurch in the region of his stomach that he didn’t think had anything to do with nerves.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 259)

“Good luck, Harry!” called Cho. Harry felt himself blushing.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 304)

She was waiting for him a little to the side of the oak front doors, looking very pretty with her hair tied back in a long ponytail.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 556)

These are all the physical descriptions I managed to find of Cho, the girl Harry supposedly has a crush on from 3rd to 5th year... yeah, I don't see it. Sure, he mentions she's pretty, and he blushes around her, but he doesn't describe anything else about her. Not eye color, not hair color, skin color, eye shape, physique — nothing! Compare this to how he describes Bill Weasley or Blaise Zabini even, with so much more detail in their description.

Now, details in descriptions when writing from a character's POV are very important. Because a character would use more words to describe what's most important or striking to them... and in Harry's case Cho isn't it.

We know she's pretty and Harry's nervous around her, but the descriptions are just so stale and distant compared to: Tom "handsomest face in the room" Riddle, or Sirius "handsome handsomed handsomely" Black.

And I want to talk about Harry's crush on Cho more, but first:

Fleur Delacor:

I want to talk about Fleur for a bit. Because Harry's reaction to Fleur is very interesting, specifically because Fleur is a quarter veela.

Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses. “She’s a veela!” he said hoarsely to Harry.

…

many boys’ heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

(Goblet of Fire, page 252)

Veelas are literally magically attractive, if you are attracted to women, you'll find a veela woman attractive and be mesmerized. We see it with Ron and other boys, as Harry notes in the above quote. Ron and many other boys all stare, speechless at Fleur because that's how her magic works.

Harry, on the other hand, isn't affected at all. To the point, he's confused by Ron's drooling over Fleur. He later in GoF wonders why Ron wanted to go with Fleur to the Yule Ball so much, as he didn't see the appeal.

Harry is literally not attracted to a woman who is magically attractive to anyone who's attracted to women.

Looking careworn, she [Fleur] left the room. Ron still seemed slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water. “Don’t you get used to her if she’s staying in the same house?” Harry asked. “Well, you do,” said Ron, “but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then . . .”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 93)

It continues in his later interactions with Fleur, like when he arrives at the Burrow in HBP in the above quote. Harry asks Ron if he shouldn't get used to Fleur and stop drooling whenever he sees her, to which Ron responds that you do to a degree. The thing is, Harry isn't used to being around Fleur, he just arrived, after not seeing her for over a year. But still, he isn't affected at all, like in 4th year, he seems to not get what all the fuss is about.

That being said, Harry does react to the full veela in the Quidditch World Cup:

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry’s question was answered for him. Veela were women . . . the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen . . . except that they weren’t — they couldn’t be — human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind . . . but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human — in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all.

...

And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry’s dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea . . . but would it be good enough? “Harry, what are you doing?” said Hermione’s voice from a long way off. The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

(Goblet of Fire, page 103)

I'm not sure exactly about the full veela's effects. Mostly because Arthur Weasley doesn't seem as affected as Harry and Ron, and Harry describes the crowd in general reacting to them, not just the men. Hermione doesn't seem affected though.

Something I want to note is that Harry only becomes affected once they start dancing, and not just by looking at them the way Ron and some of the boys are described as being with Fluer. Only when the music and dance start Harry becomes mesmerized. Before that, he is wondering how their hair moves behind them without wind... Additionally, after the music stops, Harry snaps out of it quickly, Ron on the other hand doesn't and proceeds to tear his Ireland merch.

So, while full veela, can influence him, it isn't by their appearance alone but by magic beyond their regular magical attractiveness.

Note that even with the veela, Harry barely describes anything about them. his descriptions of them aren't as detailed as his descriptions of men he finds attractive.

So even if he is attracted to women, it's very minor and barely there.

Harry's Disastrous Relationship with Cho

So, Harry and Cho... I don't think it's a pairing that has fans, but I might be wrong about that. Regardless of your opinion about it, I don't think Harry actually liked Cho. Like, at all.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Harry felt a burning desire to run from the room and, at the same time, a complete inability to move his feet. “Mistletoe,” said Cho quietly, pointing at the ceiling over his head. “Yeah,” said Harry. His mouth was very dry. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.” “What are nargles?” “No idea,” said Harry. She had moved closer. His brain seemed to have been Stunned. “You’d have to ask Loony. Luna, I mean.” Cho made a funny noise halfway between a sob and a laugh. She was even nearer him now. He could have counted the freckles on her nose. “I really like you, Harry.” He could not think. A tingling sensation was spreading throughout him, paralyzing his arms, legs, and brain. She was much too close. He could see every tear clinging to her eyelashes. . . .

(Order of the Pheonix, page 456)

Cho, the girl Harry is convinced he's crushing on since he was 13, is about to kiss him under the mistletoe, and he's thinking about nargles and Luna... And how does he feel about kissing Cho?

"a burning desire to run from the room"

He wants to run away from kissing Cho. And, well, it doesn't get any better than that.

“What kept you?” he [Ron] asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to Hermione’s. Harry did not answer. He was in a state of shock. Half of him wanted to tell Ron and Hermione what had just happened, but the other half wanted to take the secret with him to the grave. “Are you all right, Harry?” Hermione asked, peering at him over the tip of her quill. Harry gave a halfhearted shrug. In truth, he didn’t know whether he was all right or not.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 457)

He is not sure he's alright after kissing Cho. Harry thinks about kissing Cho like it's a traumatic experience... He's happier talking about Voldemort's resurrection than about his first kiss. (WTF Harry?)

Harry doesn't like Cho. Not even a bit.

“Did you kiss?” asked Hermione briskly. Ron sat up so fast that he sent his ink bottle flying all over the rug. Disregarding this completely he stared avidly at Harry. “Well?” he demanded. Harry looked from Ron’s expression of mingled curiosity and hilarity to Hermione’s slight frown, and nodded. “HA!” Ron made a triumphant gesture with his fist and went into a raucous peal of laughter that made several timid-looking second years over beside the window jump. A reluctant grin spread over Harry’s face as he watched Ron rolling around on the hearthrug. Hermione gave Ron a look of deep disgust and returned to her letter. “Well?” Ron said finally, looking up at Harry. “How was it?” Harry considered for a moment. “Wet,” he said truthfully. Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.

(Order of the Pheonix, pages 456-458)

I don't need I need to add anything here... Harry speaks for himself.

“You just had to be nice to her,” said Hermione, looking up anxiously. “You were, weren’t you?” “Well,” said Harry, an unpleasant heat creeping up his face, “I sort of — patted her on the back a bit.” Hermione looked as though she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty. “Well, I suppose it could have been worse,” she said. “Are you going to see her again?” “I’ll have to, won’t I?” said Harry. “We’ve got D.A. meetings, haven’t we?” “You know what I mean,” said Hermione impatiently. Harry said nothing. Hermione’s words opened up a whole new vista of frightening possibilities. He tried to imagine going somewhere with Cho — Hogsmeade, perhaps — and being alone with her for hours at a time. Of course, she would have been expecting him to ask her out after what had just happened. . . . The thought made his stomach clench painfully. “Oh well,” said Hermione distantly, buried in her letter once more, “you’ll have plenty of opportunities to ask her. . . .” “What if he doesn’t want to ask her?” said Ron, who had been watching Harry with an unusually shrewd expression on his face. “Don’t be silly,” said Hermione vaguely, “Harry’s liked her for ages, haven’t you, Harry?” He did not answer. Yes, he had liked Cho for ages, but whenever he had imagined a scene involving the two of them it had always featured a Cho who was enjoying herself, as opposed to a Cho who was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 460)

Okay, so I have two things to mention about this quote.

The first, Harry realizes he doesn't like Cho and probably never did. He didn't consider dating her until Hermoine mentioned it. He doesn't want to date her. He's terrified and grossed out by the notion.

This isn't a boy with a crush. I'd argue this proves he isn't straight at all. I mean, a guy who is attracted to girls, even if not crushing on Cho specifically, wouldn't be horrified to a painful degree at the thought of going on a date with a pretty girl. Or kissing a pretty girl. His reaction is just too viscerally grossed out.

The second is Ron's response. Not really related to Harry being gay, but I love Harry and Ron's friendship so I want to mention it. Hermione and a good chunk of the fandom dunk on Ron for having "the emotional range of a teaspoon", but he clearly doesn't. Ron is Harry's best friend, he knows Harry better than anyone else, yes, better than Hermione even, and this scene proves it. Hermione is flippant, ignoring Harry's responses to his kiss with Cho, just saying he should ask her out as if it's obvious.

Ron on the other hand, Ron notices Harry's expression and the turmoil thinking of dating Cho causes him. Ron is the one who speaks up that maybe Harry doesn't want to date Cho. He immediately defends Harry and his option to choose not to date Cho. (Ron would be very supportive if Harry ever came out, is what I'm saying)

They sat down at the last remaining table, which was situated in the steamy window. Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, was sitting about a foot and a half away with a pretty blonde girl. They were holding hands. The sight made Harry feel uncomfortable, particularly when, looking around the tea shop, he saw that it was full of nothing but couples, all of them holding hands. Perhaps Cho would expect him to hold her hand.

…

In the time it took for their coffees to arrive, Roger Davies and his girlfriend started kissing over their sugar bowl. Harry wished they wouldn’t; he felt that Davies was setting a standard with which Cho would soon expect him to compete.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 559)

The above quotes are from Harry's disaster of a date with Cho. I think no one needs me to explain that the date went badly, but what I want to note is how uncomfortable and grossed out Harry is by the very notion of holding Cho's hands. That he'd have to kiss her again.

Like, again, even if he isn't crushing on her, a guy who's attracted to girls wouldn't be grossed out and pained at the thought of kissing or holding hands with a pretty, attractive girl.

Harry has never been attracted to Cho, and I don't think he's attracted to girls at all.

But What About Ginny?

So this post has gotten quite long already, but I don't think Harry actually likes Ginny. And I have evidence for it in the sequel to this post that is taking a while to write.

No hate for Hinny shippers, but I don't see the pairing, like, at all. I did write some of my thoughts about Hinny here until I finish with the more comprehensive post about them.

But in general, let's just say Harry never uses the word pretty (or good-looking, or nice-looking, or attractive) to describe Ginny. Ever.

And when I looked for his descriptions of her all I found were descriptions of her hair:

He felt a strange twinge of annoyance as she [Ginny] walked away, her long red hair dancing behind her

(Half-Blood Prince, page 136)

she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair

(Deathly Hollows, page 103)

(There are more descriptions of her hair in the books, but they follow the same lines as these and don't add more information)

Again, contrast these descriptions to the ones of the guys earlier. No eye color, face shape, eye shape, or descriptions of her body or clothes — nothing.

I have more to say about their relationship, but that's for another post.

[sackieww]

🥀

[handledwithgloves]

i hate to break it to you guys but harry's magic being gold in fics bc hes the 'golden boy' and bc of the 'golden trio/era' and then his magic smelling like petrichor or the air before a storm because of his lightning scar is sooooo good to me i love it and i eat it up every time like yeeessss i understand that referenceeee!!! its because hes harrryyyyyy!!!!!

[sunnysaystuff]

euphemia & fleamont never would have let harry languish at the dursleys' for TEN YEARS !!!! and they sure as hell wouldn't have let sirius sit in prison for TWELVE !!

[fairyofspringdays]

sun and moon drarry

except draco is the sun, and harry is the moon

Most people see Harry as the sun, which I understand. He is brave, he is good, he is the paragon of light, and most importantly—he isn't afraid to stand up for what is right.

But Harry is a quiet person at heart. He observes—he would rather disappear into the crowd than be the center of attention. He is introverted and thrives off time to himself.

Draco is the polar opposite. He might be aligned with the dark side, but he commands people to himself. Any time you see him, he is grabbing for attention. He is extroverted and thrives off public reception.

In my mind, it could be possible that they are both, actually, stars. Confident in their own different ways. Still, if we're talking surface-level, Harry will always be a moon to me, and Draco always the sun.

(Not to mention how stars always gravitate towards the moon. Ron and Hermione, anyone?)

[beemoon17]

My red flag is that I like harrymort over tomarry… any fic recs? I feel like I’ve read everything good, I only read on ao3

[mrblueberryz]

trying to draw something after a long time.

[theonceandneverking]

i could easily write a Merlin and Harry Potter crossover

but I’m not going to because one is cool and homoerotic and written by losers that should have let someone else write it and the other is less cool and homoerotic and written by a terf that should have let someone else write it

[saltwater-moon]

the little menace – a jegulus raising harry fic: 1,319 words.

Seven-year-old Harry sat at the top of the stairs, peering through the banister rails at his parents in the living room below. Papa was doing that thing again.

“Jamie, love,” Regulus said, his voice taking on that particular tone that Harry came to recognise. “Do we really need to attend Narcissa’s garden party this weekend? It’s going to be dreadfully stuffy.”

Harry watched as his Papa moved closer to his Dad, placing a hand on his chest and looking up through long eyelashes. His grey eyes widened just so, and his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly.

“Babe, we already owled her our attendance,” James said, though Harry could tell from his Dad’s softening expression that his Papa was winning. “And you know she’ll hold it against us for months if we don’t show.”

“But I thought we could take Harry flying instead,” Regulus countered, his finger now tracing circles on James’ chest. “You know how he loves it when we both go with him.”

James sighed, clearly have lost the fight. “Fine. I’ll owl her with some excuse.”

Regulus beamed victoriously and pressed a kiss to his husband’s cheek. “You’re the best, my love.”

Harry’s eyes widened with understanding. So that’s how it works, he thought.

“Harry James Potter-Black, you are going to school today and that’s final,” James declared the following Monday morning, arms crossed as he stood in Harry’s doorway.

Harry, still in his pyjamas, clutched his stuffed hippogriff. “But Dad, I don’t feel well,” he mumbled, then remembered his Papa’s tactics. He slowly looked up, making his silver eyes as wide as possible.

“I just wanted to stay home with you and Papa today,” he added, his voice softening to match the tone Regulus used. He even tilted his head slightly to the side, letting his messy black hair fall across his forehead.

James’ stern expression faltered. “Harry, are you... are you trying to sweet-talk me?”

Harry blinked innocently. “I just miss you when I’m at school all day.”

James pressed his lips together, fighting a smile. “That’s– well, that’s–"

“What’s happening here?” Regulus appeared behind James, already dressed in his casual robes to send Harry. “Darling, why aren’t you dressed yet? You’ll be late.”

“He doesn’t want to go to school,” James said, turning to his husband. “And he’s using your techniques to try and get out of it.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “My techniques?”

“Yes, yours,” James insisted. “The wide eyes, the pretty voice, the whole act. He’s perfected your gig.”

Regulus glanced at Harry, who immediately demonstrated by widening his eyes even further and adding a slight pout.

Regulus’ mouth fell open. “I don’t do that!”

“You absolutely do,” James chuckled. “And now this bug has learned it.”

Harry, seeing that his attempt might be failing, decided to double down. “Please, Dad? Papa could teach me potions today instead. That’s like school.”

James turned to Regulus with an accusatory look. “See what you created?”

Regulus couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m both horrified and impressed.” He moved to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed. “Nice try, little one, but school is non-negotiable.”

Harry sighed dramatically. “But it works when you do it with Dad.”

“That’s different,” Regulus said, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

“How?” Harry asked.

“It just is,” James interjected, trying not to laugh. “Now get dressed. You’re going to school.”

Two weeks later, Harry stood in front of the toy shop window in Diagon Alley, his whole face practically pressed against the glass as he stared at the new Nimbus Junior.

“Dad, Papa, look!” he called to his parents. “It’s the fastest kids’ broom ever!”

James chuckled. “We’re here for your new school robes, kiddo, not brooms.”

Harry turned to face them, a plan already forming. He walked over slowly, taking Regulus’ hand first. “Papa,” he said softly, swinging their clasped hands gently, “don’t you think I’ve been really good lately? I finished all my homework and even cleaned my room without being asked.”

Regulus looked down at his son, immediately recognising his own tactics being used against him. “Darling–”

“And my old broom is too small for me now,” Harry continued, now employing the full-power puppy dog eyes that he’d been practising in the mirror. “Please, Papa? I promise I’ll be extra careful.”

Regulus looked helplessly at James, who was watching the scene with sheer amusement.

“Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” He cheekily whispered to his husband.

Harry, sensing an opening, turned his attention to James. “Dad, you always say I’m a natural flyer like you. So you want me to have the best broom, right? So I can be just as good as you?”

James’ resolve visibly weakened. “Well, when you put it that way...”

“Jamie!” Regulus chastised, then realised he was being hypocritical. “I mean... we should discuss this first.”

Harry looked between them, his silver eyes impossibly wide. “I’ll do extra chores,” he offered. As if Kreacher would ever let him do that. “And I won’t ask for anything else for my birthday.”

The two men exchanged a look that contained an entire conversation.

“We’ll think about it,” James finally said, which Harry knew meant ‘yes’ in parent language.

He beamed, dropping the act immediately. “Thanks, Dad! Thanks, Papa!”

As they continued toward Madam Malkin’s, Regulus leaned over to James. “We’ve created a monster, haven’t we?”

“Completely your fault,” James replied with a grin before pressing a kiss to his temple. “He got that from you.”

They watched as Harry skipped ahead, already planning his first flight on his new broom.

“Harry, come down! It’s time for your haircut!” James called up the stairs, but there was no response.

“Harry?” Regulus tried, setting down the Prophet.

Silence.

They exchanged knowing looks before heading upstairs. They found Harry curled up in his window seat with a book, pretending not to hear them.

“Interesting,” James said from the doorway. “I could have sworn I called you for your haircut.”

Harry slowly looked up, his hair falling well past his ears now. “Do I have to? I like it long.”

“It’s covering your eyes now, my love,” Regulus pointed out. “You can’t see to read your books.”

Harry closed his book and came over to them, tilting his head to look at Regulus. “But Papa, you said you liked my hair long because it reminds you of Dad when he was young.”

Regulus shot a guilty look at James. “I might have mentioned that.”

Harry pressed his advantage, turning to James. “And Dad, don’t you always say I should make my own choices about how I look? That’s what you told Grandmother Walburga when she said my clothes were too Muggle.”

James sighed. “Using my words against me, huh, little bug?”

Harry nodded, his expression as earnest as he could make it. “I promise I’ll let you cut it when it gets in the way of Quidditch.”

The two men looked at each other, silently communicating again.

“Fine,” James conceded. “But when you can’t see the Snitch because of your fringe, don’t come crying to us.”

Harry grinned triumphantly before trotting over to give them kisses. “Thank you! I love you!”

As they headed back downstairs, Regulus whispered to James, “He’s getting too good at this.”

“He’s got us both wrapped around his little finger,” James can only laugh.

Regulus sighed, not denying it anymore. “At least we know he’ll always be able to get what he wants in life.”

“Heaven help us when he’s a teenager,” James groaned.

“Heaven help everyone else,” Regulus corrected with a grin.

From upstairs, the little boy was already planning his next conquest: perhaps a snake as a pet, or a sleepover at Neville’s, maybe even those Quidditch gloves he saw last time.

He knows he can absolutely make those happen. And if his fathers say no, he can always ask Uncle Paddy.

[slytherinstag]

This makes what Harry was actually thinking cooler than reality.

If Harry tortured and killed Snape/Draco is cold blood I would’ve been cheering him on.

[myjealouseyes]

Harry with his anxious!shy!girlfriend.

Since Harry is very obsessed with you and is in tune with everything you do, he can’t help but notice how cautious of every little thing. Constantly rethinking and over thinking everything you say, what you do , what you wear, etc…So he makes it a habit to affirm you. Questioning your outfit choices? Says you look perfect before you even look in the mirror. Overthinking a social interaction? Makes sure to tell you have interesting whatever you said was.

Always using his most even and calm tone of voice with you. Because you get very anxious when someone’s tone is even a little bit off. So even in arguments he would just always try to remain at the same level of volume.

The best at knowing when you’re overwhelmed and you need to take a break in public. Will pull you to a private corner, or straight up take you home if needed.

Always keeps fidget toys around for you. Will let you play with his fingers if you need to! And if he catches you biting at your lip too roughly or picking at your skin he’ll try to redirect you.

Very indiscreetly glares at people when they try to poke fun at you.

Buys you weighted objects and blankets all the time. (Because what else would he do with his money? Duh.)