#it’s the soft lucissa for me

[valoale]

Hope this lucissa finds you well

[lucimalfoys]

"Of course," he replied, casually placing his arm around Narcissa. Public displays of affection were never encouraged in their circles, but he would make an exception for his fiancée. They'd grown closer in recent months, and he would make sure that would only continue.

"Is that so? I ran into Rab myself. He was," Lucius paused, thinking of the appropriate word, "a bit off, actually. How did he seem to you?" He gently stroked Narcissa's back with the pad of his thumb as she spoke, entirely enraptured in what she was saying. It was fascinating to him, to say the least. Both of them knew they'd be engaged to marry for years now, and while he always admired her, he was finding himself excited at the prospect of their future together. He'd had very casual relationships with a few girls during his school years but nothing like he was experiencing now. Maybe it was simply because they were engaged, but he felt differently about it. About her. "Believe me, I much rather would've been spending the entire evening here with you. Even if you'd asked me to to take part in that body painting booth over there..." he trailed off, unable to stop the visible shudder. "That would've been better than listening to the wheezing breaths of Amadeus Selwyn while he attempted to chug a bottle of Firewhisky. I truly couldn't tell you how that wrinkled, ulcer-riddled man is even still alive."

His sneer relaxed as Narcissa discussed their upcoming nuptials, a fond smile settling in instead. Merlin, he hoped no one was seeing him show such outward devotion to another person. "Well, that's a name I haven't heard in a while. Does he now?" He pondered it for a moment and relented with a nod. "I imagine that would do wonders for a small business, considering the amount of press that will be covering our wedding." Lucius lightly nudged their shoulders together, his smile unwavering. "If that's what you want, then I'm all for it. I am somewhat of a businessman myself, you know." He jokingly wiggled an eyebrow, genuinely surprised at how easy it was for Narcissa's presence to knock his barriers down.

Narcissa had spent most of her life being told that she would be marrying Lucius one day, and she was glad that they were getting closer to that happening. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't known Lucius, but she often felt that they had grown closer over the past few years. She was hopeful that that meant that their eventual marriage would be a smooth transition. "Thank you," she smiled at the compliment.

She intertwined her fingers with his when he reached out and took her hand. "It's been nice. I spent some time with my sister and dear Rabastan. It has been a rather tolerable evening." She looked up at him. "I know how busy you are, I would hate to keep you from it, but I would have enjoyed the day far more with you by my side."

"You'll never guess who I ran into. You remember Ozwald Wilkes? He has a flower shop now and they suggested that we should use their shop as the florist for the wedding. What did you think? I was thinking that it would be kind to support his business after everything happened but I'm not sure how you feel. Regardless I said that we would be in touch."

[vulcajes]

Narcissa Black headcanons? (If you haven't done them already)

UGH MY LITERAL WIFE 🫶🫶

How I view her:

Queen. Icon. Legend. Mother. The best to ever exist. She was too cunty for this world. Deceptive, charming, and witty; she was born for pureblood politics and society. Very people-smart and a natural secret finder, could find out anything about anyone and use it against them for what she wants. But nobody believes she'd ever do that because of how charming and sweet she seems, even people who have been on the receiving end of her manipulation forget about it easily. Just generally good at playing games: games with people, mostly. But games, nonetheless. Still, her sweetness isn't just for show and she's an absolute darling to those she cares about. Would never actively harm someone without having a reason behind it and would never do anything to harm her family. I could yap about her for centuries, I fear.

My fave hcs:

The most popular girl from first to final year. Beloved by everyone, teachers and student alike.

Above average student but didn't excel in anything except charms (her fave and her best, top of the class)

Wanted to go into acting (specifically theatre) as a child but knew it wasn't possible

Was everyone's go-to for when it came to hair and makeup advice, and she was fucking good at it

Natural blonde who dyed her hair black

Epitome of the 60s "It Girl" from her clothes to her hair. Everyone wanted her or to be her.

Never played quidditch but secretly enjoyed the sport (would've been good at it too)

Her entire family's favourite (siblings, cousins, parents, uncles, aunts, grandparents) and considered the best example of a pureblood girl

A really nice laugh. Idk why but she has a gorgeous laugh that's so soft and polite, hand covering her mouth. Her face doesn't wrinkle when she laughs either. How.

Doesn't necessarily believe in Voldemort but definitely has some pureblood supremacist beliefs from childhood.

My fave ships:

Lucissa — I mean... cmon now. So unbelievably cunty. They are the epitome of cunt. I love them. Hot take but they actually loved each other very much.

Nobleflower — oh my god so much potential. They're so doomed lovers. They make me sick. And then her sister TORTURED HER EX LOVER AND HER HUSBAND ?!?!?!?!? Evil.

Sunflower — this is just one entirely indulgent. I think James would be OBSESSED with her. She's such an it-girl. He would be down horrendous. Secretly, though. Wouldn't want Sirius to know.

Narlily — listen... in a muggle au... it'd work so well. Rich, posh girl and a smart, working class icon so so yummy. Lily who speaks her mind so loudly and willingly and Narcissa who's used to being silent for survival... let's go lesbians

Emcissa — best friends to lovers? I think so. Emma and her bond over quidditch (she's the only one who knows about Narcissa's love for it) and also they kiss. They're so it girls and they kiss so so much. Yay.

[rockongolddustw]

Lucissa

In the Black Prophecy

Headcanons:

- Narcissa was always interested in courtly love; respectful and in line with propriety. Before Lucius, she had some girlish crushes on handsome, well-bred Purebloods, but had never properly entertain any suitor.

- Like most Pureblood’s marriage contracts, their betrothal was decided by the head of their families. Because of the Malfoy’s wealth and status though, Lucius had more say than most - he was given a small pool of suitable candidates, and his desires were taken into account. This pool of candidates included The Blacks, and Andromeda, as the eldest unmarried sister was discussed first. Lucius contemplated this, but was cautious after seeing many of his friends engaged to witches he considered uncouth and indiscreet (including his friend Rodolphus Lestrange to Bellatrix Black).

- Lucius watched Narcissa for a long time before he made a move. He admired her poise, her perfectionism, as well as her beauty. His Mother was also fan, noticing that Narcissa had interests suitable for a well-bred witch (traditional rituals, herbology).

- Lucius’s one concern was Narcissa’s icy facade, and whether he would ever crack it. He began a slow, very cautious process of getting to know her, and tried subtle ways of seeing whether he could affect her. He’d live for the slow blush on her cheeks when his fingers skimmed hers lightly when offering her a rose.

- The Blacks were discussing several other potential marriage contracts for Narcissa (including with European Wizards), but the Malfoy influence ultimately won out. They were both happy with the match, seeing each other as the ultimate ‘prize’ in the marriage mart.

’Narcissa was not happy with the progress of her Flutterby Bushes. She had hoped that, with the right care, they may flourish or even flower in the next few years. As she carefully inspected them in Greenhouse Three one bright March afternoon, spotting the young leaves and brown spots, she sighed with discontentment. All the signs suggested it may take a decade or more.

She huffed, furrowed her brows, and leaned back from the plant to contemplate. Perhaps, with her mistrust of strangers, she was not the best mistress for this particular plant. Flutterby Bushes had a desire to attract careless, imprudent souls. It was a shame, but these things had to be accepted as a Herbologist.

‘You are not pleased,’ Lucius Malfoy's low, rich voice interrupted her. He walked towards her slowly, his hands clasped behind his back, and his face expressing mild concern.

Narcissa gave him a gracious nod. ‘Plants do sometimes disappoint me,’ she answered ruefully, eyeing up the Flutterby Bushes again. ‘Or perhaps I disappoint them…’

Lucius raised an eyebrow. ‘I can’t believe that Miss Black. If they are disappointed, they haven’t been paying attention.’

Narcissa felt her cheeks heat, a soft pink blush spreading out on them, catching Lucius’s eye as he clocked her embarrassment. She used to hate these betrayals of her body. It was mortifying that she showed the world how she felt no matter how hard she Occluded. Still, with Lucius, she was beginning to accept them. The way his eyes lit up and lips raised in a smug smile pleased her.

‘Call me Narcissa, please,’ she replied prettily, dusting down her robes and avoiding his eyes lest she give away more of her feelings. ‘Or ‘Cissa if you prefer.’

‘I thought it was only your sisters who were allowed to call you that,’ he added slyly, gesturing for her to come and sit with him on a nearby bench.

‘I might be able to make an exception,’ she said as imperiously as she could muster, vanishing the specks of dirt on her sleeves, casting a charm to smooth her robes, and then walking with him to the bench. She sat down carefully, her back straight, one foot crossed over the other slightly turned towards him. The picture of a lady, just like her Mother taught her.

‘I hope so,’ he whispered, eyeing her approvingly. ‘I wanted to talk to you about something important.’

Narcissa's eyes widened slightly, and she nodded carefully, urging him to go on.

‘I think you are aware that Malfoys do things a little differently when it comes to courting than the rest of the Sacred 28,’ he started in a serious, careful tone.

Narcissa nodded. ‘You are your own men,’ she answered, confirming she knew the power he had. Choice.

‘Quite,’ Lucius replied with a nod. ‘My Father has always made it clear that there is a pool of Witches from which I could choose a match. Like other families, alliances play a part, but our family insists that I make a choice based on compatibility as well.

‘I understand,’ Narcissa confirmed, her heart beating wildly in her chest. This conversation meant one of two things, and it was not yet clear which way it would go. Lucius held his body so rigidly that he couldn’t get a read on where the tension rolling off him was coming from.

‘I’m not sure you do yet, but I will try and enlighten you,’ he said more softly. ‘You see, I have discerning tastes. I couldn’t abide a Witch who didn’t live by the rules of propriety, and you, my dear, seem to embody them entirely.’

Narcissa looked up at him, startled, her eyes wide and mouth parted. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

Lucius gave a small smile then. ‘You are so wonderfully hard to read most of the time.’

Narcissa’s cheeks heated again. She had been taught that her iciness was a gift, but perhaps in these circumstances, it was not. ‘We Blacks are taught Occlumency from birth,’ she tried to explain.

‘And yet your sisters still betray their emotions more readily,’ he challenged.

‘I am very different from them both,’ she replied, furrowing her brow.

‘I know, ‘Cissa,’ he whispered, leaning into her a conspiratorial look. He rolled out her name, emphasising each syllable as if it tasted delicious on his tongue. ‘That is a very good thing. But you seem to give away a bit more when you know people better,’ he observed.

‘I do,’ she whispered, unable to break eye contact with him. She could feel heat spread through her cheeks down to her neck and chest.

‘And I’m starting to be able to notice your tells,’ he continued with a smile, his voice getting lower as he spoke deliberately and carefully. ‘And I think, if circumstances were right, there could be affection between us.’

Narcissa's heart beat wildly, and she couldn’t hold in a gulp. ‘If circumstances were right,’ she repeated.

Lucius gave her a broad, feral smile as if she were a fly caught in his web. ‘Well, then. I will write to your Father.’

She knew what that meant. He wanted them to start courting formally.

‘I would like that,’ she whispered back, her eyes lighting up.

Lucius beamed back at her.

[zennybearr]

silent muse

ship: lucius x narcissa malfoy.

tags / warnings: painting; cute moments; husband and wife playful moments.

note: @loving-lucissa - ily.

word count: 580.

in the sun-drenched parlour of maloy manor, the gentle sounds of a brush stroking canvas filled the air. lucius malfoy stood at his easel, focused intently on capturing the image before him. his wife, narcissa, sat comfortably on a plush chaise longue, a leather-bound book resting in her hands. the soft light from the tall windows cast a warm glow on her fair skin and platinum hair, creating an ethereal aura around her.

narcissa was lost in her book, her delicate fingers occasionally turning a page. she exuded a calm, elegant grace, her posture perfect and poised. the serene expression on her face suggested she was completely absorbed in the story, unaware of the outside world, save for the man painting her. her dress, a soft blue that matched her eyes, flowed around her like a gentle wave, adding to the tranquil scene.

lucius glanced up from his work, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of narcissa's form. his hand moved with practised precision, capturing the delicate arch of her neck, the gentle curve of her lips as she read. he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her so engrossed, her usual regal demeanour softened by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

for lucius, painting was more than just a pastime; it was a way to immortalise the moments he cherished. and this moment, with narcissa bathed in the soft afternoon light, was one he wanted to remember forever. he marvelled at the way the light played off her hair, giving it an almost silver sheen. his brush danced across the canvas, blending shades of gold and cream to capture the subtle hues of her skin.

narcissa felt his gaze and looked up from her book. their eyes met, and a gentle smile spread across her lips. “how is it coming along?” she asked, her voice soft and melodic.

lucius returned her smile, his eyes full of affection. “beautifully, as always,” he replied, his tone warm. “but no painting could ever truly capture your beauty.”

narcissa chuckled, a light, musical sound. “ever the charmer,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes. “you flatter me too much, lucius.”

he set down his brush and stepped back to admire his work, then turned his gaze back to her. “i speak only the truth,” he said sincerely. “you are my muse, my inspiration.”

a soft blush crept into narcissa's cheeks, and she looked down, momentarily flustered. she had always appreciated the way lucius could express his feelings so openly, even after all their years together. it was one of the many things she loved about him.

lucius walked over and sat beside her, gently taking her hand in his. “thank you for sitting for me,” he said, his voice tender. “it means more than you know.”

narcissa closed her book and leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “anything for you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. she felt a surge of warmth in her chest, a deep, abiding love for the man beside her.

they sat there in comfortable silence, the painting of narcissa as serene and beautiful as the woman herself. in that quiet moment, with the sun setting and the room bathed in a golden glow, they felt an unspoken bond, a deep connection that went beyond words and gestures. it was a moment they would both treasure, a reminder of the love they shared and the beauty they found in the simplest of moments.

© zennybearr

[ohlookitstomorrowff]

Tags Masterlist

Hardly anything I post has any sort of overall cohesion... Thus, to make things simpler, I've added a tag navigation key under the cut--just click the specific link and, voilà.

Harry Potter:

Lucissa - father heard about it…told his wife

Narcissa - Dead

Lucius - you call this a house

Law & Order SVU:

Alex Cabot (and Stephanie March in general) - prettiest wearer of glasses ever

Cabenson - eye contact = married with 3 kids and a dog

Calex - one shared episode and 200+ fanfics

Olivia Benson - Detective Daddy

Casey Novak - Casey ‘Softball Is Totally Hetero’ Novak

The Legend of Korra:

Korrasami - just a sporty masc and her nerdy femme wife

Asami Sato - science geek by day/classic siren by night

Miscellaneous (Non-fandom Related):

Literature Related - bookish stuff

Gay Stuff - dis be gay

Beautiful Women - girls—I die

Classical Hollywood Women - because the women of Classical Hollywood have my heart

Blanche Dubois - I never lied in my heart

Vivien Leigh - Vivien Leigh = Queen

Rizzoli & Isles:

Rizzoli & Isles - Detective Sexy Italiano Rough Voice & Dr Drop Dead Gorgeous with socially awkward tendencies 

Rizzles - ​just two gals who are obviously more than pals (cos they be married)

Maura Isles (& Sasha Alexander in general) - The Queen of my Dead Heart and Birkin bags

Jane Rizzoli - ticking all the tropes for soft butch lesbian and kicking ass

Supergirl:

Lena Luthor - the only high!femme genius goth gf that matters 

Supercorp - just an alien and her emotionally repressed ‘best friend’

Katie McCgrath - cute little Irish cryptid

Wicked:

Wicked (general) - follow the yellow brick road

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West - Hold out? I’ve did my waiting! 12 years of it! In Southstairs!

Wicked the Musical - No One Mourns the Wicked (except the gal she gaslit and emotionally manipulated but somehow still loves her)

Elphaba - just a froggy ferny cabbage

Glinda - all roads lead back to Glinda

Gelphie - everything is Gelphie 

Kristin Chenoweth - chenoqueen

Savannah Stevenson - Savannah kills me

Wicked quotes - wicked quotes

Glinda Quotes - wq:g

Rain Quotes - wq:r

The Worst Witch:

Pippa Pentangle - Pippa Pent-angel

Hecate Hardbroom- Heca-gay Hardbroom 

Hicsqueak - 30 years worth of repressing the gay

The Worst Witch 2017 - tww17

The Worst Witch 1998 - tww98

Wynonna Earp:

Wayhaught - sexy cop + short baby girl = some haught fanfic

Xena Warrior Princess:

Xena/Gabrielle - everybody's favourite lesbians

Gabrielle - it's a bard's life

Renee O'Connor - roc rocks

[cruciatvsaa]

test

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[sneverussape]

auguries of innocence

yes, i stole borrowed it from william blake. it just made sense to me.

one-shot. lucissa/snucissa. 3500+ words. written slapdash so sorry for any typos/errors/whatnot. based heavily on DMs with @greens-your-color so this is for them. :)

summary: the malfoys are haunted, but in a way of their own making and their own choosing. and it doesn't look like it will end very soon. or very well.

She knew where she would find him. On days when the Manor was too dark despite the light that spilled in from the grand windows, too cold despite the fires that blazed in multiple hearths, and too empty despite the soft gurgling of their young tuft-headed grandson, there was only one place Narcissa knew with certainty that Lucius would be.

She left young Scorpius in the company of Nibbly, who had been Draco’s and Lucius’ own nanny elf, and gave them strict instructions to fetch her in case of medical emergency. Nibbly certainly didn’t need the instructions, but Narcissa felt better all the same after having given them. Relinquishing control was not something she did easily, even for the most trivial things, and this Nibbly understood well enough.

“Would you care for a cloak, Lady Malfoy?” Nibbly asked as Narcissa fussed over Scorpius one more time before kissing his cotton-soft hair. She paused, partly in surprise that Nibbly had known, but after having lived with the Malfoy family for nearly a century now she supposed it would have been more startling if they did not know about the goings-on in the house. Nibbly had always been awfully fond of Lucius. And they had also grown fond of—

“Yes please.” Narcissa cut her thoughts to the quick and forced a smile at the house elf. Nibbly bowed and snapped their fingers, and Narcissa’s shoulders were instantly draped with thick velvet. Lucius had given this cloak to her, back during the fleeting days of their courtship. Oddly, it barely supplanted her any warmth now, but she held it close just the same. Although she liked to think she was above such mawkish sentiment, for certain things she forgave herself quite easily. “Thank you, Nibbly.”

She left the nursery and proceeded to take the long route to where she knew her husband would be. As she walked from the East to the West Wing, the shadows seemed to grow longer, and the sunlight seemed to shine weaker. At the end of the corridor in the West Wing was a small nondescript door hidden in plain sight with several Notice-Me-Not charms. It was so inconspicuous that even Voldemort had not bothered satisfying his curiosity with it. Narcissa let out a hollow laugh at the memory as she pulled the door open, revealing what seemed to be a hallway closet stuffed with half a dozen moth-eaten Muggle coats.

Anyone with half a shrew’s intellect would have seen how misplaced this sight would have been in Malfoy Manor, she scoffed in derision as she used her wand to move the coats to one side and flatten them against the wall. Then she stepped inside the closet and shut the door behind her, before holding her breath and taking two confident steps forward.

It always surprised her that the closet never barred her entry, but she supposed that uninhibited entry was one of his little gifts for her (especially since it had barred Lucius once or twice on occasion, rendering him with a reddened forehead that had clashed horribly with his hair). Her eyes opened to a small room that was illuminated by watery sunlight streaming in through a tall, lone window. The tapestry that hung above the door just across from her was that of a doe in a star-filled meadow. It was one of the only ones in the Manor that wasn’t magical, and so the doe stood stationary at the place where she had been sewn in. It took all of Narcissa’s willpower to not draw her wand and blast the tapestry into shreds with a well-aimed curse. Lucius would never forgive her, and she knew she would deeply regret it at some point after the fact…no. She held tighter onto her wand and marched towards the door before pulling it open to reveal a long winding staircase.

It was for this passage that the cloak was for. It had always been dreadfully cold in the tunnels leading up to the room, so much so that the stones lining the walls felt like ice. She had no idea why he— well, perhaps she did. Of course he would. He would not have done anything less.

She didn’t know how long it took to get from the entryway to the bottom. She never counted. It felt like the perfect punishment somewhat.

Was this how he felt on that night…? She couldn’t help thinking, and it was with a short, pained gasp that she had to stop and collect herself before she resumed her march, using the tips of her fingers to blot out the hot tears that had gathered at her eyelashes.

Tears, Narcissa, really? She scolded herself. He wouldn’t want you to, and you…you don’t deserve it.

It was with a low-simmering rage that found her in front of the final door, the last hindrance to her destination. Like all the other doors she had gone through, this was as plain as ever. Dark English oak that was knotted and scarred in places, but with a doorframe carved in protective runes, something she and her husband had taken the time to make and perfect to balance out both Malfoy and Black protection charms, and which they had repeatedly done over the years for both Draco and Scorpius.

Not that it had worked for him, the bitter thought came before she could stamp it out, and Narcissa pressed her lips together into a thin line in silent protest.

She knocked on the door, thrice in the familiar rhythm only the three of them had ever used. She knew Lucius was inside. She could feel him. She could feel…Severus…too, and she knew that she had to retrieve her husband quickly if she didn’t want him lost in the void of his own grief once more.

“Lucius.” She called his name. The silence from within frightened her and her heart started thumping in rapid succession. “Lucius!”

The door swung open silently and revealed the dimly-lit but spacious Potions lab that they had come to know every corner of over the years. It was lined in dark stone and had wall sconces that were now all extinguished but for the four closest to the center. It was there that Lucius sat, on a threadbare chair that would not have been fit for any room upstairs but had a decidedly determined air to fit here, despite Narcissa’s earlier refusals. She should have reduced the thing to kindling, but it was the only one of the set left. The rest had all been reduced to ashes either by a mishandled potion or a playful attempt at a duel.

And it was here…here…where she felt Severus the strongest. In the same way that she could feel her husband’s magic – hot, slightly bitter, white like the exploding of a star – Severus’ own – cool, almost electric, a deep viridian green like the birth of a new forest – echoed loudly against the stone.

She couldn’t stand it. She should have locked this room ages ago, when she had had the chance, when Lucius had been going through the trials. But she had been too shocked, too hurt, too numb with grief to even start to do anything but wait on each day to rise and end with the assurance that Lucius and Draco were safe and would continue to be so. Unlike…

“Lucius.” Her voice trembled a little, and she loathed herself for it. In response, her husband lifted his gaze to look at her. The glamour he usually wore when meeting other wizards had been lifted as it had been part of the protection they had placed on the room (“…in case of injuries, we know what he’s like…”). It terrified her how terrible he looked. A ghoul borrowing her husband’s features would have been a more apt description for the once-formidable Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius seemed to be in a different universe entirely. He was always that way, when he had been in the room too long. As though small parts of him were being slowly eaten away. To her surprise, however, he blinked at her, recognition suddenly shining in his quicksilver eyes, and smiled.

“Hello, darling,” he said, then tilted his head. “You’ve a cloak on. Are you cold?”

The fact that he felt the need to point it out sent a bolt of fear down her spine, but Narcissa refused to let her emotions run rampant on her face.

“Lucius, you promised,” she said, refusing to give him any more prompts than necessary. Severus’ magic pressed against her in a way that was almost painful. Thankfully, Lucius nodded. He was still here, it seemed.

“So I did. Young Scorpius must be waiting, hm?”

“He’s settled in the nursery with Nibbly. Draco has dropped his things off and will be back later after he takes care of a few more things. With Astoria and all of that.”

It should have hurt, talking about the girl her son had loved and whom they had treated like family for what had seemed too short a time, but Narcissa wasn’t ashamed to admit to herself that it simply didn’t. Astoria had been there, and now she was not. Of course it was terrible for both Draco and Scorpius, having lost a wife and a mother so soon, but Narcissa simply had nothing left to give. Her heart, whatever was left of it, was divided neatly into Lucius, Draco, and Scorpius. If there was a hidden pocket of affection that she still kept and cherished and wept over for one other then it was her secret to keep, and she was good at hiding secrets.

“Splendid. It will be like old times then.”

Lucius’ smile barely made it to his eyes, but Narcissa wasn’t cruel enough to point it out to him.

She approached slowly, her steps cracking sharply in the gloom. Once she was in front of Lucius she reached out to hold his hand; the fact that it was near-frozen made her lift his hand up to her cheek. To warm it, perhaps, or give him an anchor that she knew he desperately needed.  

“Darling…” she said, then hesitated. She didn’t know how Lucius would react to her suggesting this now. But she knew this was not something that could go on. She resolved to try a different tack. “Darling, we should go back upstairs. Greet Scorpius. Spend some time with him, hm? You’d like that. You can redecorate the nursery to suit him the same way you did with Draco.”

Lucius met her gaze once more, and this time the sorrow was clear in his eyes.

“I know what you mean to do,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I felt it even before you entered. Your anger…the room shook with it. It nearly didn’t let you in. But you’re right.” He let out a shaky laugh and moved to wipe his eyes with his other hand with barely-held finesse. “It has been ten years. A very long ten years…and I. I am exhausted.”

The confession distressed her. This wasn’t what she had expected from her husband. Hearing it from his own mouth she now wasn’t even sure if it was what she also truly wanted.

“What was it that that old coot of a Headmaster used to say? It does not do to dwell on dreams…?” Another hollow laugh. “I fear this time he is right.”

Narcissa thoroughly ignored the quip about Dumbledore; she had never liked or trusted him anyway, but resigned herself to the fact that Lucius had come to the same conclusion that she had earlier about the room. She quickly knelt so that it would be easier to meet Lucius’ gaze, her hands now clasping his on his lap.

“Darling, it doesn’t have to be forever. Perhaps only for a little while,” she offered. Yes, a compromise could work. Her anger came and went like a summer squall. It was Severus she was angry with on some days, but yes, sometimes it was also with Lucius. Lucius, who should have known what Voldemort had planned to do with Nagini. Lucius, who shouldn’t have failed with the Prophecy retrieval. Lucius, who shouldn’t have taken the Mark and who shouldn’t have pulled Severus and Draco in on his wake. Lucius, who had welcomed a halfblood, Muggle-raised urchin into his home so many years ago and who had inevitably left traces of himself in their own lives.

Traces so powerful that they could still feel it.

“Only for a little while,” Lucius repeated. He seemed to weigh his words before speaking. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have this old place locked up while Scorpius is in the Manor…I wouldn’t want him stumbling in and handling old Potions ingredients…”

Not that Scorpius could even enter this space. Neither could Draco, unless it was with their explicit permission. It was keyed only to allow entry to the three of them and certain house elves, but Narcissa didn’t see the need to remind Lucius of it.

Around them, the magic thrummed. She didn’t know anymore whose it was, whether it was Lucius’ or Severus’, only that it hurt and it was all she could do to not burst into tears where she sat. She felt Lucius’ hand run through her hair, the motion soothing her immensely.

“Very well, we shall say goodbye for now, perhaps. But darling, indulge me. One last time?”

She knew what Lucius was asking, and in truth she wanted to see it too. The last time she had was the first time they had discovered it was even possible. After the trials were finally over and done with, Lucius had barricaded himself in the room to navigate his hurt, and by the time she had been allowed entry a very distressing two weeks later, she had been afraid the strong presence of Severus’ magic would have driven him half-mad. She had been partly correct, but only because she had never expected how physically magic could actually manifest.

With his free hand, Lucius lifted his wand. It was very different from what Voldemort had stolen from him, and Lucius argued it disagreed with him on some days. But it worked well enough for most things –

Dark Arts, for one, it embraced and executed with relish.

Revertere cum dilectione…mea ligare vos…

The way he did the wand work told her he had done this multiple times, possibly on every single night when she had awakened with his side of the bed cold and empty, or on days when the Manor was so silent her own stifled cries felt like an act of betrayal. She could have been down there with him, but what good would it have done? For the both of them to slowly driven be mad by ghosts?

“Cissa! For Merlin’s sake! Put that down!” Severus’ deep baritone was such a shock to hear after so long that Narcissa shuddered in response. Lucius put a comforting hand on her back. Surprisingly, his touch was warm.

“Darling, take a look. I will make good on my promise, but bear this final one with me. Please.”

“Cissa! Do you have a death wish?”

Her own laughter echoed in her ears, so bright and mischievous that if she didn’t remember the exact memory happening she would have claimed it was a different person altogether. Then the quick pattering of shoes against stone, so close to where they sat that she could feel her skirts ruffle. She shook her head vehemently against Lucius’ lap.

“No. I will not. I should not, Lucius, it’s too cruel.” She said, the effort of speaking causing her to nearly gasp. “I cannot bear it.”

“You can, darling. You must. We can say goodbye together.”

Perhaps it was the way he had kept rubbing soothing circles onto her back and how he had whispered the words into her hair. Narcissa looked up at her husband, unsurprised at how her cheeks were now stained with her tears. He gazed back down at her with a soft smile. This time, it was one that expanded and melted into the sheen in his eyes.

“See our Severus,” he said.

And Narcissa did.

There was Severus lighting several cauldrons all at once. There was Severus, chasing her as she ran from him with the needed ingredient in her hand, their laughter and shouting ringing like bells. There was Severus, on one of the chairs that didn’t exist anymore, hissing at Nibbly as they tried to assist him in binding a leg injury they had no idea how he had gotten. There was Severus, being kissed softly by Lucius on the counter. There was Severus, plaiting her hair on some truly awful settee he had transfigured from…something…and there she was, raising her eyebrow and smiling at his whispered joke, leaning into his touch in that old familiar way…

The images lasted no longer than a handful of seconds each. The longest seemed to be the strongest held memories and lasted for a minute at most. They came and went like ghosts, leaving traces of color and echoes of sound of things and selves long lost and abandoned, the images smudging at the edges the same way a painting would before disappearing altogether.

This was the Darkest of Dark Arts she and Lucius had ever tried to conjure, to bind the traces of Severus’ magic in order to visually project the ghosts of the memory that the energies still held. It had been cobbled together with some of the crumbling texts on necromancy and blood magic found in the depths of both Malfoy and Black libraries, and despite knowing the price to be borne of toying with such ancient magicks, they had thoroughly succeeded, and it was still something that still deeply fascinated her.

For was it even still the Dark Arts if what was binding the spell, what was keeping the memories up, was in fact, the very thing Voldemort had rejected? It was love that powered the spell, hers and Lucius’ for Severus, mixed with his leftover magic bottled up in an empty space and used to recreate imprints. Love that they had held to themselves for ten years gone now, because the recipient was no longer there to accept or reject it. Love for Severus who was gone, but not forgotten.

For Severus, who was gone, but…unforgiven? For not telling them a word of his mission with Dumbledore? For not giving them a single clue as to what he had planned to do? For the betrayal she eventually had to face when she found out about his death when she was so thoroughly damnably sure that he was going to survive and the final revelation had caused her to go mute from shock for days on end?

No.

Wholly forgiven. If not by the wizarding public, then by her and Lucius, most assuredly. And that should be the only judgement that should matter. Besides, Narcissa would do well to remember her own advice. And as though summoned—

“I hate you, I really do,” Severus Snape, all of twelve years old, said as he sat cross-legged on the floor, so close to her that she automatically reached out in an attempt to touch him, but Lucius held her arm in a gentle grip. Severus, undeterred, was scowling at a book that she was sure contained his French revision.

“No, you don’t. You hate not having control.” The sixteen-year-old version of her, tanned after a restful holiday in Nice, lounged on a pile of cushions next to the recalcitrant boy. Prior to them converting the room into a state-of-the-art Potions lab, it had been a convenient hidey-hole for the three of them from Lucius’ father and she remembered spending a good chunk of that summer there. Narcissa watched herself as she pored over her own Transfiguration notes, where Lucius had left annotations in both French and Italian. “Now pipe down and conjugate those verbs. You’ll thank me later.”

Severus, the little brat, stuck his tongue out at her surreptitiously, but he also smiled at her, just before the image faded out.

Severus really did have a beautiful smile. It was a shame no one ever really had the opportunity to see it.

It was a full minute before the images rewound and started to show the same things all over again. Lucius raised his wand to cancel the spell, but Narcissa reached out to touch his wrist.

“Once more, Lucius, please. And then it ends.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at her in a knowing manner. “Scorpius…”

“Scorpius has Nibbly. They will get us if we’re needed. One more, Lucius. Please.”

The expression on Lucius’ face softened into something that looked like the most profound understanding. Before her eyes, the skin seemed to sink in deeper on his face.

“Do you promise?” He asked, his wand hand quivering as he held the spell in stasis.

It didn’t miss her how identical this conversation was to what she had had with Lucius earlier that day, before he had disappeared.

“I promise.”

.

.

.

end.

[fonkeloog]

The other day I mentioned to @narcissa-black-supermacy that I wanted to try writing Lucissa, and I've been coerced (bullied myself) into doing just that. So, here is my first ever Lucissa drabble :)

"Malfoy," the sound of his name makes him stop in his tracks and slowly turn around. As soon as he does, he's faced with Narcissa Black. She's still in her uniform, and the look on her face is slightly panicked.

"I'm sorry for disrupting your evening like this, but my sisters said you were the one who could help me." Her voice is clear in the empty common room, the only thing betraying her nerves is the way she keeps biting her lower lip.

"And what, if I may ask, would you need help with, lady Black?"

She huffs in frustration, -or to hide a smile- before looking him straight in the eyes. "Lady Black would be my eldest sister, I'm just Narcissa," Lucius doesn't give any indication to be interested. Except for one raised eyebrow, prompting her to keep talking. "Bellatrix said you're one of the best at the protection of the mind. My ability is, ah, severely lacking. Would you be willing to teach me?"

Another nod is given. "Make sure to be here tomorrow morning, 4 am sharp and I'll see what I can do. You should get some rest now." With that Lucius turns around to move up towards his dorm. Just before he gets to the final step, a soft "good night" reaches his ears. The owner of the 2 words has long gone into her room.

[sistersblack]

first line game

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20,  just list them all!). see if there are any patterns, choose your favourite opening line, and then tag 10 of your favourite authors! 

thank you @bunny-bopper for tagging me 🥺💕i’ve included some wips since i haven’t published a whole bunch since the last time i did this. alsoo they’re not all hp this time so 👀👀 i’m exposing my bad taste to this acc. 

what a mess i leave (to follow) · wip · severus & eileen | hp · He’s born breech, feet kicking before the screams can start, like he’s already ready to leave her.

the world’s a beast of a burden · wip · boba fett/din djarin | the mandalorian ·  The sky is always clear here, beyond the Dune Sea.

untitled nd snape week fic · wip · gen · He keeps the vial in his palm, gently tracing the glass ridges with his fingertips. 

a soft place to fall · fennec shand/din djarin(/boba fett) | the mandalorian · Din is hot beneath her, skin flushed and sweaty. 

an invention of darkness · severus/lucius/narcissa | hp · You could say it starts like this: Cold, concrete halls, with little light and no portraits.

at the seams · din djarin/boba fett | the mandalorian · Boba smells it in the cockpit of Slave I, as the beroya stands behind the co-pilot’s seat, hands clasped around the headrest as he fights the urge to fidget.

blacker than blue · gen | hp · Hunting, Mulciber calls it.

a feeling so peculiar · gen | the mandalorian · When he finally turns away from the elevator, the others are waiting. 

sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell) · elliot stabler/olivia benson | law & order: svu · Olivia’s apartment is quiet.

this feeling (i wish i could freeze and own it) · gen | hp · Take your pick, Lucius says, and be down by nine.

something wicked this way comes · severus & eileen | hp · The riverbed glistens in the night, his mother a silhouette against the moon’s reflection.

i live in you · lucius gen | hp · Lucius scours the Manor’s library seeking answers and finds them scrawled on the back of a stray photograph.

resist the temptation · lucius gen | hp · “What happened to the rest of them?”

no sacrifice without blood · lucius gen | hp · Lucius dies in daylight.

its own charms · lucius gen | hp ·  Malfoy Manor is void of portraits. 

hungry for you · lucissa | hp · Lucius is already there when she slips inside, hip pressed to the vanity as he leans, waiting. 

straight lines, he’s running out of time · lucissa | hp · Water runs over reddened flesh, Draco’s arm held in Narcissa’s hand.

follow you down · eve/carolyn/elena | killing eve · It’s Eve’s voice—a hitched breath, filled to the brim with pleasure—that Elena recognises.

don’t play with fire (unless you want to get burned) · snarcissa | hp · “He should be back already.”

a world alone · snucissa | hp · “Congratulations, Headmaster.”

woooo i definitely messed up the order of fics i think,  but i’ve been in class all day so i’m running on half a brain cell and it’s fine. as for trends - i hate opening with dialogue and love not using names??? and as for my fave, i think probably the first one 👀

tagging @maria-de-salinas @sapphicathenas @marshmallowmcgonagall @solasnarealtai  @deathdaydungeon @celta-diabolica  @wisp-of-a-spook @sportivetricks (though idk if you follow this acc - it’s @humanveil 😚) aaaand anyone else who wants to do it, really. no pressure though 💕

[severousse]

To @sandraharissa who asked me some questions in the notes of my post about Snape and Heathcliff. I hope you don't mind if i answer them here because there is a limit of characters in the notes section and i'm more comfortable with writing a new post.

"Why does only romantical/sexual love count ?"

Well, first of all, my original post was not about romantic love specifically. Whether Catherine Earnshaw loved Heathcliff as a friend or a lover doesn't really change many things. She still loved him until her death. He was her soulmate and friends can be soulmates as much as lovers.

Anyway Snape wasn't even able to have this kind of relationship because his awful personality prevented him to befriend anyone when he was an adult.

I always put a stress on it because it's very important to aknowledge that as a child, Lily certainly liked Snape even if the scenes in the books tend to prove otherwise. The thing is... Snape as an adult was a completely different person. Lily would never have befriended (i'm not talking about romance) a man like him.

How does a person's attractiveness make them more good ?

It's not about their attractiveness but rather about how their true personality can still be loved by someone after they have been seduced. It means they have a soft side and Snape didn't have that soft side.

If you say that Lily loved Snape platonically but it was somehow toxic then how is it different from some guy who was also in toxic love relationships ?

Because said guy was desirable and Snape was not. Snape wasn't even able to keep his only friend, can you imagine him dating someone and having someone who fell for him as a teenager ?!

Are you trying to say that chance doesn't exist and that we are in control and responsible for everything that happens to us ?

Chance doesn't exist in human relationships. You'll be loved by someone at one point in your adult life (friends or lovers) if your personnality is not that repulsive.

"If Bella loved Voldy then what makes you think that there isn't a single person out there who would have loved umbridge or snape that they just haven't met yet"

JKR herself. There is a reason if she didn't want to prove that Snape and Umbridge were capable of being loved. It's because she wanted to dehumanize them and giving them love would not fit her agenda. It's as simple as that. She decided that no one ever loved them because of their terrible personalities.

"Who would want Snape in love with them ?". 😏

Same for Umbridge.

"What if someone is aro or just uninterested in pursuing a romantic relationship ?"

That's not the point. Snape could be aro/ace, he was still incapable of being loved, even if it was unrequited.

If one character loved another for some vague reasons that you can't even list maybe it's just wasn't the best developed/explored relationship a la jily and doesn't prove anything anyway ?

Weeks ago i wrote a post about why Lucissa is one of my favourite hp ships. I have listed things that made them fell for each other and they are not even an important pairing in the books.

Jily's shippers would gladly do the same for their ship i guess.

It does prove that unlike Snape, some villains or morally grey characters were not repulsive to the point of being unloved.

[tangodancerwrites]

‘ you could stay here. with me. ’ + Lucissa

* LOVE ♥ STARTERS

Narcissa’s first time with Lucius had been nothing short of magical. It’d been warm, and hot, and he had been so attentive to her needs. He’d been so wonderful that it almost felt bittersweet when the whole affair was over, the pair laying side by side on his bed. The thought suddenly occurred to the young Black that she had no idea what was supposed to happen next. She’d heard the rumors about his flings with women. Was she supposed to just leave like them? She certainly hoped not, because that would prove her sister’s theory right–that he’d only wanted to bed a well-bred woman before moving onto something newer and more interesting. Still, she figured it was a better move than to just stay still and wait for him to tell her to go. With a small grunt, she moved to sit up in his bed, grabbing her bra and putting it back on. She was reaching for her underwear when she felt a gentle hand on her arm. 

“You could stay here. With me.”

Narcissa’s turned and gazed down at him with a certain fondness before she fell into Lucius’s arms. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, before moving to remove her bra again. “Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?” she asked, unable to stop her smile from growing at the thought of sleeping in one of his shirts. What a fool she was, and how far gone for this man.

[wandchoosesthewizard]

1, 10, 17, 18 for the multi muse ask

Y’all sent lots of these || @fcntcsticmuses || Still Accepting

is there a muse that you wish gets more attention?

I mean - Gilderoy, Sirius, Cedric, Voldemort, Lucius, Draco, Lily && Juliet could all do with some extra attention for me right now lmao. 

which muse is the most fun to write for?

Probably Patrick?

do your muses get along with each other?

So I mentioned here that some do. Some more of the fun pairings include - Sirius and Snape, who hate each other. Snape and Peter who hate each other. Gregory and Patrick would either be a match made in heaven or a nightmare - depending. Gellert and Wendelin might actually get along wuite well. Snape & Lily - it’s complicated.

would you ship any of your muses together? who?

Sure. I’m trash enough to admit that. I’ve mentioned before Snucissa is a go. Obviously Lucissa. I do ship Leandra with Narcissa - just not mine. Gellert with Percival and Credence. Patrick’d take anyone who looked in his direction. I’ve mentioned before I have a soft spot for Tim x @misterpercivalgraves. Credence and The Obscurus. Credence and Percival. Snily is... Complicated. Leandra and Greg would never marry but they’d be... Interesting. Greg and Narcissa maybe? Snape and Lucius. Leandra and Lucius. Leandra and Sirius. Percy and Cedric maybe? I mean, I’m not saying I do - and I’d be much more likely to do with with other people who play duplicates with one of my muses in those pairings but I’m not gonna draw a line in the sand and be like ‘never’ There are probably more if I cared to think about, I’d ship. 

[zennybearr]

snowed in

ship: lucius malfoy x narcissa malfoy.

tags / warnings: winter; romance; couple; lucissa; snow; coffee; kissing; slight mentions of intimacy (sex), but nothing explicit ~ regardless, minors DNI.

note: a gift for @loving-lucissa.

word count: 547

snowflakes danced gracefully in the air, twirling in the gentle breeze as they made their descent. the world below was wrapped in a soft, white blanket, muffling the usual noises of the small town, casting a serene hush over the streets. the air was crisp and cold, with a hint of pine and woodsmoke, as the first light of dawn began to filter through the frosty haze.

at the edge of the town, hidden amongst land and land of woods, malfoy manor stood with a fire crackled merrily in the drawing room’s stone hearth, casting a warm glow that flickered against the brick walls. the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the fragrance of light sandalwood and vanilla, hinting at the manor’s mistress as she descended the marble staircase, draped in oversized green silk robes, to where her lover stood, coffees in hand. “good morning, beautiful,” he smiled, gently placing the cup of coffee in her hands. “thank you,” she murmured, savouring a sip, the warm liquid trickling down her throat. “good morning, lover boy,” she teased, cup in hand, her other resting lightly on his arm, as he led them both into the drawing room to bask in the heat.

as they reached the window, the couple sat close on a loveseat, cocooned in a cozy blanket, cups placed on the table before them, observing wedding preparations - flowers, centerpieces. while unconventional for an unmarried couple to live together, the snow-in led lucius malfoy, the manor’s master, to keep his beloved narcissa safe for the night. despite disapproval from narcissa’s parents, the couple chose to ignore outside opinions, focusing on each other.

as robes fell away, the couple lay by the fireplace on the carpet, wrapped in the blanket, sharing sweet, lingering kisses. lucius held narcissa’s cheeks tenderly, while she ran her hands through his long locks. with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, narcissa looked radiant, her blonde hair catching the fire’s glow. lucius, smiling softly, kissed her forehead before returning to her lips, savoring each moment. their entwined hands deepened the kiss, bodies moving in sync with a shared rhythm of love.

narcissa, after their passionate moment, drifted into sleep, as outside, the snow fell softly, blanketing the evergreens in a pristine shimmer. lucius, gazing at the snow, awaited her awakening. “lucius?” she murmured upon waking. “i’m here, my love,” he whispered, soothing her. “is it still snowing?” she inquired, adjusting her appearance. “yes, looks like you’re staying another night,” lucius teased, winking. narcissa chuckled, “i doubt cygnus black will be pleased. knowing my father, he’ll brave the weather to rescue me,“ she remarked.

lucius quipped, “rescue you?” as he sauntered to his naked fiancée under the blanket, tracing her jaw, planting kisses from ear to neck, causing delightful shivers. “am i holding you prisoner?” he whispered, his words sending tingles down narcissa’s spine. “don’t be cute” she murmured, falling back softly as lucius draped himself over her once more.

“this is your home, narcissa. you’re always welcome,” lucius declared. “i love that,” she replied. “it’s the truth. i don’t care what anyone else says. your home is with me, narcissa. or should i say mrs. malfoy,” lucius teased, tracing his finger over narcissa’s engagement ring, a malfoy heirloom fit for his soon-to-be wife.

© zennybearr

[idreamofdraco]

After that answer to the anon about lucissa you got me wondering if you'd ever write anything family centric as opposed to couple/shipping fic. If so, could I prompt you for a Draco and Lucius post with either 12 or 29? Would be super interesting to see your take on thier interactions as father and son as you say you usually write his parents out!

I write gen or family-centric fics when the inspiration strikes! I just gravitate towards romance because I lack it IRL (and it’s more popular, let’s be real here), lol.

Here’s a gen Malfoys-centric one-shot I wrote last year that might interest you. And here’s a gen Weasley twin fic I wrote a couple months ago, though I wouldn’t blame you if you care more about Malfoys than Weasleys. ;) Everything is post-war and everything hurts.

I went with 12. “I think we need to talk.”

Draco spent most of his time sitting in the labyrinthine garden behind Malfoy Manor. Sometimes he strolled, navigating the paths and the secret passages he’d adored to hide in as a child, racing away from his mother when she determined it was time for supper or a bath. But mostly he sought a bench within the garden’s depths and sat for hours that passed like minutes.

He let the wind stir his thoughts in meandering directions in a way he had never let his thoughts meander before. His aunt Bellatrix had begun teaching him Occlumency at the age of fifteen, but Draco had been naturally gifted in the art. He’d spent his entire life compartmentalizing his thoughts, organizing them into neat categories that shaped the way he viewed and understood the world. That skill had been more than beneficial to him by the time war was waged—it had been lifesaving.

All his life, Draco had heard stories about the Dark Lord and his quest to rid the world of impure blood, to return magic back to the hands of wizards. True wizards. Wizards like Draco and his family. Not pretenders who sullied themselves with Muggles, diluting their perfect blood until it was dull as mud. All his life, Draco had wished he’d had the chance to pledge his allegiance to the cause like his father had, to pledge his life in service to the Dark Lord Voldemort’s noble goal.

Funny how when made into reality, dreams could actually reveal themselves as nightmares.

Draco didn’t like to think about the war, but the way he naturally organized his thoughts caused him to chase the tails of memories until a cascade of them fell over him, drowning him under their weight. If he accidentally reached into the Hogwarts box, he might find himself tumbling into the Potter box and then the War box and then the Battle of Hogwarts box. And then he’d be barraged with images of classmates and family friends dying around him as he failed over and over again to capture Potter, to end the war in the Dark Lord’s favor, to earn some glory for himself. As he failed to make his parents proud.

He’d be trapped in boxes if he let himself think that way.

So instead he cleared his mind and let the balmy summer breeze tease the hair at the nape of his neck, caress his cheek, and swirl his thoughts into eddies that collapsed and reformed too quickly to allow Draco to fixate on just one. He breathed with the wind, letting himself exist outside of his identities and allegiances for the first time in his life.

He wasn’t sure how long his father sat next to him before Draco realized he was there.

Lucius seemed to hold his breath, waiting for Draco to say something first, but Draco just stared into a hydrangea bush, caught by the way the wind kissed the petals.

“I think we need to talk,” Lucius said finally.

“Do we?” Draco’s voice cracked, rusty from disuse.

“Your mother seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

Lucius frowned, but Draco hardly noticed. A box had opened in his mind, and a memory snuck out.

“The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy,” Potter had said, and, suddenly, all of the eyes in the Great Hall turned to Draco as he shoved through the crowd, looking for his parents.

The Elder Wand. Draco didn’t know what that was. He owned a wand no longer. The hawthorn wand he’d owned since the age of eleven was clutched in Potter’s grubby fingers, pointed in the Dark Lord’s direction. His mother’s wand, which she had given to him to use after Potter had stolen his at Easter, had burned with the Room of Hidden Things thanks to Crabbe.

The tool that signified Draco’s power was gone. He had certainly never wielded something called the Elder Wand.

“...and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy,” the Dark Lord said.

Draco froze in fear at the casual mention of Draco’s death. Everyone’s attention turned back to the spectacle in the center of the room, and he used their distraction to move through the crowd again, to continue searching.

His mother found him first, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, suffocating him in her trembling grasp. His father joined them moments later.

“We should go,” his mother whispered, trying to remain unnoticed as Potter and the Dark Lord exchanged more words. “Before anyone notices. We should leave.”

Draco tugged on his mother’s hand, urging her toward the Entrance Hall, the great oak doors, the grounds—to freedom.

But his father hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted by a blast of red and green light. Draco and his parents turned, struck dumb by the golden flames that erupted in the center of the Great Hall where the Dark Lord and Potter’s spells collided.

And then the Dark Lord fell backward, his body meeting the flagstones with a hideous, final thump.

“I do. Of course I do,” Lucius said, and Draco blinked, trying to remember what they’d been talking about. “I failed you. You and your mother both.”

Draco finally looked away from the hydrangeas, only to be met with the sight of his father rubbing his palms along his thighs; his hair combed—barely—but in disarray; a thin, pale beard obscuring his chin and jaw; dark circles under his eyes.

A mess. Lucius Malfoy looked a frightful mess. His appearance might have suggested the Dark Lord still lived, sharing quarters with the Malfoys as he had months ago in the war’s wake.

Narcissa Malfoy had strapped herself in the armor of her appearance, and Lucius Malfoy had shed it entirely.

Lucius’s icy gaze, the one Draco had inherited from him, pierced Draco in the area of his beating heart. The bothersome organ pounded in his chest, bringing him back to life in a way Draco had not experienced in years.

His eyes stung, and he turned his head away, far away, to keep his tears from his father’s notice.

“I’m the one who failed. Maybe everything would be different if I hadn’t��”

“No, Draco.” Lucius’s voice was gruff and firm. The first hint of anger Draco had heard from him in months.

Lucius grasped Draco’s shoulders and forcefully angled him until they were facing each other and did not release him afterward.

“Buf it I hadn’t Disarmed Dumbledore, the Elder Wand—”

“No. Don’t even think it. There is no use thinking of what could have been.”

Lucius pulled Draco into his arms, his embrace hard and confining, not soft and comforting. But that was just what Draco needed at that moment. He needed someone to keep him together, to keep his pieces from shattering into even tinier shards. He buried his face in his father’s shoulder and cried as silently as he could. His shoulders shook in his agony, and his father held him tighter, shame a faraway emotion as Draco released the tension he’d been hiding and holding for months.

How many times since the war had Draco examined his memories, analyzed his every action, wondering what other tiny, meaningless moments had changed the tide of a battle? If he had known that letting Snape Disarm and kill Dumbledore in his stead would have won them the war, Draco would have swallowed his pride and let Snape have the honor. Either way, he’d been spared the horror of murdering someone in cold blood, but at what cost? What did the future hold in store for the Malfoys now?

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, his voice muffled. Sorry for losing them the war, sorry for causing the Malfoys’ ruination. Sorry for not being able to save his parents after his father’s own failures.

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Lucius said, his voice cracking, as if holding back his own tears, which was impossible. Lucius Malfoy never cried. “You’re my son.”

He said it as if that was the only thing that mattered, as if that absolved Draco of everything. Maybe it did.

The garden was the only place Draco felt safe. The only place that stood outside of time and memory. The only place he could think without obsessing, exist without guilt, feel without pain.

But in his father’s arms, Draco found forgiveness.

[pallaswrites]

hello, hello! i’m rae, and i’m back at it again with an updated plot wishlist and free time to actually follow through. it’s mostly hp because i am STILL rowling trash /sighs (note that if we’re going to plot, i’d love to do it over either tumblr or discord!! the latter is really easy to sign up for, and you can use it without downloading anything, hehe.)

if you’re interested, please message me or reply to this post with which plot you’d like to do! (I’ll be crossing out the taken plots, so there’s that.)

HP

founders-era

[while I am mostly set on playing helga, I will also play any of the three other founders provided it isn’t against her.]

helga/salazar. This is the pairing I legit cannot get enough of. While a modern-day interpretation would be interesting to write, I also have extensive headcanon on Helga’s history, and would love to write with someone passionate about keeping things period-appropriate! - @farsights

MODERN DAY FOUNDERS - the founders as a modern-day heist team. This would combine two of my favourite genres, to be honest, though the logistics of everything would be entirely plottable.

marauders-era

fralice. Give me struggling Fralice, happy Fralice, anything: they’re one of my favourite Marauder-era ships. (Note that I can only see myself playing Alice.)

JAMES/SIRIUS. The desire to play James is alive and kicking. What about an AU where James and Lily live and begin to have second-thoughts about their decision to marry young? (Where James turns to Sirius, who’s having his own furry little problems.)

lucissa. The courtship: burning looks across rooms, a touch that lingers a moment too long, sweet words on a silken tongue. NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME THEY WEREN’T IN LOVE, OKAY.  (let me play a young, brash kim jongin! lucius and i will love you forever.)

some characters I want to play: Arabella Figg, Fenrir Greyback, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew. I can’t think of plots for them at this very moment, but if you want to play against them, message me!

tbh let’s be real i live for mumus and aus in the marauders era so come to me with anything!

golden trio-era

krumione/dramione. This could either be an exploration of a life where she and Ron part ways, where Ron dies, where they never got together in the first place. LET US WRITE BEAUTIFUL FANFICTION TOGETHER, MY FRIEND. @kylosrps, @orionwriites

padma/blaise. Childhood friends on different sides of the war. God, I have so many headcanons for this. Let me play Padma, and I’ll give you my firstborn. @artemvisrps

dean/seamus. Will play either, though I’ve got a soft spot for Seamus. 

ravenpuff mumu. This would be a post-war exploration of some of the lesser known characters in HP canon. I’d like to play Justin, Padma, Cho, and Mandy, but the others are definitely fair game. It’d begin at the reunion a year after a war, then follow their lives from there.

DRACO/ASTORIA - Would prefer to play Astoria in this meet-cute plot set post-war. God, all the low-key angst and high-key fluff for these two would be unbelievable. @artemvisrps @orionwriites

some characters I’d like to play: Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, Ernie Macmillan, Lee Jordan, Percy Weasley.  I can’t think of plots for them at this very moment, but if you want to play against them, message me!

next gen

JAMES SIRIUS POTTER/ALICE LONGBOTTOM II. I’d really like to play Alice in this one. Just imagine them both as hellraisers, or, alternatively, incredibly behaved best friends. This’d be a friends-to-lovers plot, likely, with a lot of midgames along the way for added angst  ​

SCORPIUS/AL. I am trash but imagine them being in Slytherin together and just EVERYTHING about the two of them. I want this ship conflict-ridden and angsty-af because of all their hangups.

dominique/teddy. Overlooked for not being elegant enough, Dom is tired of being something she isn’t.  I’d prefer to play Dominique.

victoire/teddy. (I ship it all.) He is the one who teaches her to rebel, but she does his first piercing. I’d like to play Teddy.

some characters I’d like to play: Hugo Weasley, Louis Weasley, Rose Weasley, either of the Scamanders. I can’t think of plots for them at this very moment, but if you want to play against them, message me!

miscellaneous

DUMBLEDORE/GRINDELWALD. Young, brash boys, playing at being men, thirsty for a power beyond their means. What’s not to love? Major potential for angst, contemplations on the nature of man, etcetera. - @farsights

the scamanders. Father-and-son plot? Travel Couple plot? Either way, let me play Newt, and I will be a happy soul. (where the movie is not canon AHAHA was thinking of using Jason Momoa.)

minerva/tom riddle. Hold up, Rae! Are you telling me you want to play Minerva in her weird, angsty, terribly passionate and wonderfully AU affair with Tom Riddle? @potterlyjames

tonks/charlie. Please let me play this crackship out! Imagine them being at school together, being best mates, etcetera etcetera! I’d really love to play Tonks.

EVERYTHING ELSE

shakespeare-based mumu with only poc!!

fairytale retelling universe tbh i’m a trash

star-crossed lovers from rival corporations/gangs/families, except they’re hypercompetent and valuable assets, so it’s extra spicy (pls)

STAR TREK-Y PLOT OKAY I LOVE THE UNIVERSE I LOVE AMANDA AND SAREK AND SPOCK AND UHURA