#jkr fumbled with them

[egg2bones]

here's my take on the evans sisters <3 obviously have to pay tribute to the other marauders sibling duo

[geesenoises]

for @oflights, inspired by her patronus rant, where she made some excellent points about jkr's terrible lore building around patronuses and in the middle said "[Draco] has happy memories but they're not happy enough and he can only summon one that's happy enough once harry's railed him or whatever." and my brain went: NUT SO HARD A PATRONUS COMES OUT

Harry felt Draco constrict around him, which sent him over the edge. He closed his eyes and groaned into Draco’s neck. After a few moments, he raised his face and blinked. Something pale and ghostly floated in his peripheral vision. Beneath him, Draco was still panting with his eyes closed. Harry shifted off of him and fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses.

When the world slid into focus, there was a shimmering apparition of a fox sitting in the corner of the room.

“Holy shit,” Harry wheezed.

Draco made a noise of smug agreement. “That’s right, Potter. I told you you’d have a good time.”

“Well, by the looks of it, you had a really good time.”

Draco frowned and opened his eyes at the amused note in Harry’s voice. Harry smiled at him fondly and nodded to the corner of the room. At the sight of the softly glowing animal, Draco went rigid and flushed an immediate red. He turned and started frantically patting the bed for his wand to dismiss the patronus.

He stopped when Harry laid a hand on his shoulder and tugged him back down gently. “Hey, leave it. It’s nice. I’m glad you, er, enjoyed it. You’re right, I did have a good time.”

Draco let himself be pulled down and against Harry’s side. “Not good enough, apparently,” he muttered.

“I had a great time, you insecure wanker. It just means we have something to aim for the next time we do this.”

A week later, in the middle of some experimentation, a clatter loud enough to distract Draco from what he was doing rang through the room. Draco looked up into the face of an enormous stag looming over them.

“Motherfucker!” he yelped before falling off the bed.

[mauveberries]

You do realize Harry fought actual adult death eaters who were mostly pure bloods and won? Oh no, wait now you are going to blame the book being children's even tho you spend all your time talking about the said book nvm what's funny to me is that you are out here acting Voldemort was actually given any depth in canon. He was literally written as an one dimensional villain with sad past and now wants to take over the world. WOW SO MUCH DEPTH. Absolutely not generic. There is a reason why Draco has more fans; even though Voldemort is the main villain. He. Wasn't. Developed. If it wasn't Harry Potter, Voldemort would barely have any rep. Hell, even before 2020 Voldemort barely had any fics dedicated to him. He used to be really niche. He was an one dimensional character and saying he would react to this situation like this because I know more is weird because dude has barely any lines. Also, pure bloods canonically aren't really much. So it's obvious Harry is going to win, especially in a time travel au after he fought a war. But okay you do you. Just you thinking JKR didn't fumble hard trying to write a good villain with Voldemort is funny. Just because you project onto Voldemort, doesn't automatically makes him a genius villain who never tripped. All the "great" things we know about Voldemort is through the narrator/Dumbledore dictation. We don't see Voldemort ACTUALLY living up to the hype. Maybe go reread the books, instead of fanfics about pro pure blood shtick. Bro, in the books all Walburga did was scream like a lunatic and that was her character. That's it. Your hate for Molly Weasley was funny too. You hate someone who's trying her best to help everyone with actual human flaws that is actually well written but somehow like Walburga black who's one personality is. just screaming dirty blood? Like holy fuck molly has flaws that makes me really less fond of her but at the very least her whole personality is not just shrieking and advocating death to a group of people because their blood is dirty. I feel like you read too much fanfics.

harry only won because voldemort instructed them specifically not to kill him. also, im not talking about survival fighting, im talking about formal duels. in a formal duel, harry would lose to them.

i never said voldemort wasn't one-dimensional you illiterate fuck. and i still talk about hp even though it's a childrens book because i like it.

voldemort obviously isn't a good villian because harry won in the end lmao. i never said he was.

you say i make up stuff as if tomarry isn't utter fanon. like.. yeah, no shit i make stuff up. so do you. but the stuff i make up aligns to how i think canon voldy would be, unlike you who insists harry is suuuper duuper powerful 🙄. you do you though. just... not in my askbox, yeah?

yeah, walburga was a bitch. i still like her though. the fictional characters i like has no bearing on what i accept in real life, or else i would not be a voldy fan account 💀

i dont like molly because she annoys me. being pureblood isnt real, but being annoying is. cope.

[blorger]

10/10 contribution friend, the Dobby Dilemma totally adds a new dimension to the whole conundrum.

As for the Lucius thing, Dumbledore is often shown to be downright wrong about the inner workings of the Death Eaters (and pureblood stuff in general, like the Black family succession rules), which is honestly quite baffling since his inside source is right at the top of the org.

I honestly think it's a bit of a fumble of jkr's part because she wants to have her cake and eat it too: in the first books especially, she wants us to think that Lucius is a Big Bad, an all powerful enemy with ties to the government, the school and all things magical but when push came to shove and she escalated the stakes in the books (basically from OotP onwards) he's not one of the villains she chose to be an actual Big Bad, she introduced more dangerous characters like Bellatrix and Greyback instead.

In this new re-imagining of the Death Eaters, a Lucius at the very top of the food chain doesn't make much sense: he's not a true believer like Bellatrix and Barty and he's not a bloodthirsty maniac like Greyback; Lucius is, by design, someone who operates from behind the scenes, someone who, like a wise man once said, doesn't want real power, just money and the illusion of power (because with real power comes real responsibility). Lucius is shown time and time again to act only out of pettiness and his own interest, which means he doesn't really work as Voldemort's n2 (which is how Dumbledore refers to him in more than one instance).

I think that when jkr makes Dumbledore give his big wrap-up speech at the end of CoS, she's tidying up any loose ends and making Lucius out to big the Big Bad simplifies the narrative. Why did this extremely convoluted chain of events happen? because the evil guy was up to no good, case closed.

The Dobby thing, on the other hand, is just sloppy writing in my opinion. jkr has this tendency to use her secondary characters in a rather exploitative fashion, basically she changes them to fit the purpose of the situation they're in. In book 2 Dobby needs to know of and like Harry before he even meets him so she sets him up to be a beacon of hope for an underground Elf resistance movement fighting against their oppression. After CoS, this supposed elf resistance is never mentioned again and elves are re-imagined to love their own enslavement in a Stockholm Syndrome type of way in order to give Hermione a side plot with S.P.E.W.

Basically, Dobby is there to be a helpful (but not TOO helpful, so he can't be too smart) character who helps the plot along. What is Harry's conflict now that he's back at the Dursleys and they're intimidated by him? Let's have Dobby artificially create one. How do we set up this book's main mission? Dobby has heard vague things.

In my heart of hearts Dobby heard Draco complaining endlessly to Lucius about Harry during summer vacation (and Lucius's irritated responses), conflated that with the various Ministry raids on the Manor (and the Malfoys' reaction to them) and decided that they were plotting to harm Harry. I like the story much more if it's driven by a bunch of people who don't know what they're doing stumbling their way to success.

Look, listen, this is a very important question for the culture: why does the hp fandom at large like to act like Lucius Malfoy meant to open the chamber of secrets?

Book 2 Lucius Malfoy was clearly in his live laugh love era, the Great Diary Reshuffle of 92 was very much an improv moment, a petty action to mess with a Weasley and get rid of a cursed artifact at the same time, I'm sure he went home feeling real proud of his innovative problem-solving.

Even when Draco recounts the letter from his father, all we get from Lucius is basically "sit tight and watch", not exactly the words of someone invested in the outcome.

I'm very much in the "the diary was left to Abraxas Malfoy and Lucius had no idea what it really was" camp, tho that is just a personal spice I like to add to the books, am unsure of jkr's actual intentions (if she even thought it through to that extent)

[delusion-of-negation]

Some folks seriously miss the point or got no off switch.

Like sometimes it's just a joke, let em joke. Not everything is a super cereal discussion lol

Now the real quest is what wand is best fir the poop-be-gone spell

it bugs me because if I posted "man that sweet sweet milky bar wouldn't be worth the child slavery if they got rid of the cowboy mascot" nobody would be like "tw slavery, it's not worth it now", buddy, obviously that's the joke that's the premise you need for what I'm saying to be funny. the joke is obviously the cowboy is never going to make child slavery okay. and ngl, yeah I care that children are enslaved more than I care about jkr's bigotry. there simply isn't a contest between racist goblins and a ten year-old currently being worked to death. I just don't get making the joke serious by adding that "um it's still not worth it :/" like well done, would you like a trophy, you're against bad stuff, applause. sorry there's not enough stupidity in me for me to die on the hill of the shitty wizard game, when I can instead point and laugh at it like, somebody tell these people that conservatives laugh at you for taking it seriously, but if you say "does it let you shove the wand deep in your asshole and cast poop-be-gone?" they can't really declare you triggered lmao. I don't even know what console the game is on, I'm not going to buy it, I can google centaur porn. I honestly am reminded of people who bitch when you don't take some time away to explain that perspective character is morally wrong, when you're writing psychological horror from the villain perspective, the whole reason the story is scary is your morality comes up against this twisted view of the world and that causes discomfort - the story isn't scary if you're not assuming from its beginning that these events are wrong, that's the condemnation built into the very genre, it doesn't need to be spelled out, and it doesn't work if the character isn't acting fine with the awful shit, should you depart to explain how gross and icky it is then that's shattering the tension of this romanticised view of it that you do understand isn't true inherently. it's the same with the joke, it is assuming you already know wand + anus =/= nazism destroyed.

that said, you wanna go with a brown wand for poop-be-gone, it means any accidents or missed spots aren't going to stain white wands, y'know? once you're an accomplished wizard who won't fumble, you can gamble on a white wand up your ass, probably.

edit: I'm being snarky here, the person who added that is fine, it really isn't meant to come across as nasty to them, I'm just tired

[walks-the-ages]

For the "Critical enjoying" anon, you'll have to wait a bit, as I finally put in the effort to actually make a Twitter account so I can specifically reach out directly to Martha Wells and ask her some questions about her works, and point of the previously -posted about transphobia and biological essentialism present in the works, and how to change it.

Because it boils down to this:

1) is a work bigoted because the author is deliberately baking that bigotry into their work to send a specific message, like Jkr's Antisemitism, transphobia, racism, etc?

Or is it because the author just genuinely didn't know about/ realize those elements were in their work and had already taken steps to correct their portrayal in later installments after learning more about the topic and becoming aware of more societal issues they never considered before?

Is there bigotry in a work because this is a belief the author strongly believes in and wants the audience to feel the same, like Miraculous Ladybug being written by 45 year old white men who have already shown themselves to be predators-- Winny drew and publicly posted porn of the main child characters to his Twitter with no repercussions and is still a party of this show as of August 2022,

,the entire point of Adrien's character is to brainwash young girls into thinking being the target of sexual harassment is romantic, the racism and objectification of Asian women in the show, etc,

Or is it because the creator simply didn't know that these problems and concepts even existed until someone brought it to their attention?

Like. Cis people do not go around thinking about gender, at all. Gender and sex to them are literally one and the same with zero distinction

They just accept it as a fact that Physical sex characteristics = gender, and it's not until they meet or have discussions with trans people or become aware of their struggles that they even realize they've had these preconceived biases to begin with.

I know this because I've had multiple conversations about being queer with older, cis, straight coworkers who were genuinely supportive of queer rights, they just have zero grasp on any of the basic concepts. And I mean zero. Zilch. Nada.

They support their trans cousins but use the wrong pronouns and say "identify as" until it's explained that "no, they don't identify as a male, they are a boy, and you should be showing your love and respect for him by referring to him as such even when you're not directly talking to him-- especially when you're not even directly talking to him, because that's the only way you're going to actually change your perception of him and actually use the correct pronouns and name for him when you're face to face, you have to practice and study pronouns, it's not supposed to be a pop quiz every time you see him so you end up fumbling your words and misgendering him and deadnaming him, all completely by accident because you don't think about it until you're face to face".

And then they realize "oh hey you're right, I never thought of it like that before. All of this is so new to me! I'll try to do better next time I see him."

Like. Most of the other trans people in the Murderbot fandom haven't even noticed the issue @rjalker first pointed out until it's... Pointed out.

Most people are literally not even thinking about the fact that all bots and constructs use it/its pronouns, because they're too caught up in the fact that characters are using neopronouns at all, so if the widely-trans fanbase hasn't noticed the issue, how do you expect the author to even realize its an issue?

Plus there's the fact that if you scroll through her Twitter account...She's literally reblogging All these news articles and posts celebrating queer Identities, encouraging people to vote the whole ballot to make sure anti-LGBT laws are not unanimously passed by republicans, encouraging everyone to help stop anti abortion laws being passed, raising up Native and Black and Asian voices in the right against racism, the most recent being that people are predicably being super racist, specifically anti-Native about the new Predator movie that came out August 5th 2022, aka literally just four days ago as of me typing this post.

Oh, and actively signal boosting queer authors whose books are actively trans and queer (which is why I am now going to see if my library's ebook section has "The Jasmine Throne" by Tasha Suri!)

TL;DR:

There is a world of difference between enjoying the works of Martha Wells, who has had some problematic elements in her work that have been course-corrected over the years as she learns, just like literally any random person off the street is not an immediate expert on oppression,

versus

people like the ML creators and JKR who are actively targeting their audience with bigotry to normalize it and show it as correct AND further profiting off their bigotry to go on and continue pushing their incredibly dangerous and harmful agendas.

[vivithefolle]

Hi,

Thank you for the answer to my previous question, I hope you are doing well.

I read JKR's quote on Ron needing to grow up in HBP, and while I didn't think much on that, reading metas on Ron makes me wonder, was that the way to show him growing up, by having everything piled up on him the way it went in HBP, because that leads to negativity I feel. rather than piling up stuff to show he has grown up, we can see how his behavior has changed, how he does not repeat mistakes he made earlier. I know there are other ways, but these are the ones I could list. I would like your thoughts on this.

I hope you're doing great! Sorry I didn't answer sooner, I've been having RESPONSIBILITIES, can you imagine D:

Honestly, I'd tell you to not believe JKR when she assesses her characters, because often she's full of shit. ESPECIALLY when it comes to Ron and Hermione. If she starts to compare the two of them close your ears, close your eyes, grit your teeth and let it go. She's a sexist old coot, don't even bother.

Really, all she wanted was for Ron to be the "instigator" of drama, because of course, because she's too much of a coward to have Hermione be the one to fuck everything up since gasp, can you imagine, people wouldn't like Hersel- I mean Hermione - anymore if Hermione proved to be a failible, mundane teenager like the rest of us... ahem.

So she piled on negativity and self-esteem-breaking shit onto Ron, just so he could be the first to break, and then she had Hermione be a horrid little madam except since Ron was mean first then dear darling precious flower Hermione is perfectly entitled to be an asshole back right? Nevermind that Ron was never so horrible when he was 14 and heartbroken, he just made a prat of himself in public once then he stopped, but Hermione's entitled to bully him for MONTHS and forgives him ONLY ONCE HE'S ALMOST DIED. But it's Ron that needs to grow up, uh-huh, sure.

we can see how his behavior has changed, how he does not repeat mistakes he made earlier

And the thing is, his behaviour DID change! But like a teen that is LEARNING, he doesn't get it right. Not the first time, not the second time, he fumbles and misses.

In GOF he went directly to confront Hermione, making a scene in public. In HBP he doesn't confront her at all, avoiding her and using the silent treatment. From one extreme to another as he's learning how to deal with that shit, because that's how kids learn emotional regulation and develop into adults. That's NORMAL. THAT'S HEALTHY EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT GOD DAMNIT STOP BRANDING A LITERAL KID AS AN INCEL WHEN HIS LITERAL BRAIN DEVELOPMENT ISN'T FINISHED.

... ahem. Sorry. Got... got a little upset here.

Except that next to a almost hyper-realistic teenage character you have the poor man's ideal of feminism, Hermione Granger the one Sue to rule them all, who's lauded for being always so calm and nice and mature and understanding, but also when she's being a bitch and straight-up committing assault it's oh no you don't understand, she's just a teenager!!! Plus RON started it!! Then when you start going "but wait then, you were saying it's great Hermione has flaws but now you're trying to excuse her flaws away, you know that's exactly what I mean when I say she's a Mary Sue-" they immediately go NO SHE'S NOT A MARY SUE SHE'S SO RELATABLE!!!! I too was so wise and smart and brilliant and only ever did things perfectly on the first try, I always got everything absolutely right, even my own emotional development was done perfectly without a hitch because I was just so mature for my age :D

... Yeah, right, ok, fine, all I'm hearing is "I'm probably stuck at mental age 15" and "I have a completely fucked-up, puritanical view of what teenagers are like". Also "I think feminism is about worshipping Hermione Granger for being an unrealistic character and holding her up as a role model to turn little girls into neurotic messes that try to keep up with her 'perfection' and become depressed burnt-out messes when they inevitably fail".

Sigh... all in all Rowling was really just... interested in piling shit on Ron so she could humiliate him in her twisted idea of "romance". To her Ron was "expecting Hermione to make herself less than she is" I guess??? (actual JKR quote)

But Ron NEVER DOES THAT!!! He never fucking does that!! When he beats her at something he's FUCKING ECSTATIC because HE KNOWS! He KNOWS just how """brilliant and smart and wonderful and saintly""" Hermione is and HE'S HAPPY HE WON FAIR AND SQUARE! Conversely, it's Hermione in that scene who gets upset and tries to DIMINISH RON'S ACCOMPLISHMENT TO MAKE HERSELF FEEL BETTER!!!

So... basically, Rowling is trying very hard to force the square peg into the round hole by claiming something, EXCEPT SHE WROTE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT SHE CLAIMS SHE'S WRITTEN. It's HERMIONE who keeps casually belittling Ron, it's RON who says that "always the tone of surprise" AND HAS REASON TO SAY IT BECAUSE HE'S SPENT PRETTY MUCH SIX YEARS BEING TREATED LIKE HE'S AN INCAPABLE IDIOT AND THIS ENTIRE BRAINDEAD FUCKING FANDOM OF BRAINDEAD FAKEMINISTS FOLLOWS SUIT BECAUSE CRITICAL THINKING, HEY, NOT EVEN ONCE!!!!

... Fuck I really should learn to stop being so pissed over stupid shit. Blargh.

Aaaanyway! Sorry friend, I wasn't targeting you, I wasn't angry at you, I'm not angry at you, I was raging against the heavens so to speak. Have a great day. *hugs*

[dumb-of-ass-pure-of-heart]

Btw [gets really close to the mic] the one person who I was replying to about the tags was a casualty I actually didn't mean to include on there, I thought I was reblogging the Steph Meyer iteration so the stuff I said about Grindelwald was not supposed to be connected to them, they blocked me which is fine but like they just fumbled please don't be weird to them about that specifically. Like they took someone else's tags and put them on my post but JKR has done so much active harm to me and my own so I didn't see why it's funny. If you're a nazi and targeting that person come at me instead because again, they blocked me, they've distanced themself from me, I'm the one you want hurt most so just do that instead.

As per usual getting the urge to delete everything and just move on with my life 🙃 because any time I talk about antisemitism I get nazis in my inbox telling me extremely alarming things 🙃 and specific details about my life that i have not shared on here 🙃

[clare-with-no-i]

I think the fat phobic thing is a reach. I know that JKR is not the most popular person in the world right now, but Harry Potter did not teach kids that being different in appearance means that there is sth wrong with you. Neville is described as being clumsy, chubby and nerdy and is one of the best characters in the series -with beautiful story about growing into yourself and that bravery can be expressed in very different ways. And what about Hagrid! He very much does not conform to societal norms when it comes to looks, he’s being ridiculed because of it by his peers, and yet he’s also one of the best influences in Harry’s life. Luna is described as a very odd looking individual and she’s one of Harry’s best friends. And thing about Weasley’s. I personally thing that JKR description of what growing up poor looks like was very good. I mean we see that this family is being met with scorn, people comment on hand me down clothes, old books, number of kids! This is very spot on. And JKR shows them as loving, giving, industrious people. That’s a very good lesson to kids. And in regards to Dursley’s. Sure, Dudley, Vernon and Marge are overweight. But it’s not that that makes them awful human beings. Does being fat makes Dudley an outcast? No, he has his gang of similar assholes. The trauma of his upbringing is a different story, and stems from inability to reprimand a child and setting a clear set of rules as well as neglecting to teach him compassion and love. You know, bad people come in all shapes and sizes. And HP has it’s problems, sure. But it’s also a children book written in the 90s and doesn’t have to combat every societal issue 🤷🏻‍♀️

ok so I think one of the places this is going wrong is misconstruing how fatphobia might function in literature: it doesn't just have to be 'this person is bad BECAUSE they're fat,' it can also be the fact that there are multiple characters whose appearances seem to be intrinsically tied to their badness—all but, if we're counting Neville, one character—and their size is used as a) the butt of a joke where they could otherwise just be critiqued for being bad people or b) a vehicle to humiliate and/or dehumanize them. need I remind that Marge is literally ballooned? as her comeuppance?

(IMHO Hagrid is a different story altogether because he's literally a giant and functions as a hyperemotional, often fumbling, caregiver. it's not an offensive portrayal but i don't think it's really the naysaying plus sized representation you might think it is. Like I'm not super impressed by the giant character not conforming to human societal norms, because he's repeatedly mentioned to be not human.

also: "He very much does not conform to societal norms when it comes to looks, he’s being ridiculed because of it by his peers, and yet he’s also one of the best influences in Harry’s life." is this supposed to be a good thing? are we supposed to be glad that he's being ridiculed for his looks and still a good person? is that really an authentically good portrayal of someone who doesn't conform to social norms, as opposed to just a person allowed to live in peace?)

I'm also confused about what, wrt Neville, negates the fact that JKR's portrayal of the many characters is fatphobic. like, yeah! I'll take the L and concede that I suppose not every character in HP who's chubby or plus-sized is a caricature of fatphobic stereotypes. does that automatically preclude JKR from leaning into and relying upon fatphobia to write certain characters? no it doesn't. here we see that tokenizing one character as a means of negating the treatment of other characters who share one singular attribute doesn't really work as a defense of a literary phenomenon

and to address some other things: first of all, Luna dresses oddly and talks like a sprite. the way she Doesn't Conform To Standards is not at all comparable to Dudley or Vernon or even Cornelius Fudge or Umbridge. second, yes, Dudley is supposed to be the product of a spoiling household—but he's also written as grubby, infantilized, over-indulging, and a number of other negative stereotypes about plus size people. his appearance is the butt of the joke in a way that another spoiled character from a different children's book, Veruca Salt, never deals with. it isn't necessary and it's lazy.

I uh. never mentioned poverty or her portrayals of class politics? yes, sure, maybe she did a good job of portraying what it's like to grow up in a poor household. and she didn't make the poor people evil. I've talked about this before, and I don't really feel the need to congratulate her for that here. like hoorah JKR you didn't demonize poor people in your supposed critique of systemic inequality. a win for the girlies!

"You know, bad people come in all shapes and sizes." the book's villain is a bald snake man i get it

here are some articles written by people with much more expertise than me on the subject, in case you were in want of sources:

https://www.themarysue.com/j-k-rowlings-fatphobia-needs-to-be-acknowledged/

https://www.insider.com/how-i-introduce-harry-potter-to-my-kids-as-fat-millennial-2021

(a good thread from twitter) https://twitter.com/artists_ali/status/1417503461940375557?lang=en

also ffs you can not combat 'every societal issue' (one societal issue) while also not directly contributing to that societal issue? like, there's a middle ground between being an activist for body positivity and being fatphobic? it's called not pointedly making fat characters evil and then continuously mentioning their sizes as an accessory to this evil?

IDK. this whole ask rubbed me the wrong way and I get that I'm not exactly being saintly in my response to you but if you're going to come to my blog and patronize me about the ways that JKR is Not Actually As Bad as we think she is, I'm going to feel comfortable matching that energy.

like, I write fanfiction for this series—I don't categorically hate every part of it and spend my days picking it apart. but there are phenomena and motifs within the HP canon that are worth deconstructing because they can normalize both internalized and interpersonal cruelty, and when those come up, I have no trouble discussing them.

so. have a good one, go with god, eat your wheaties

[hdcandyheartsfest]

H/D Candy Hearts Fest 2022: Info & FAQ

Welcome to the H/D Candy Hearts Fest! Are you a fan of fluff? Love writing fumbling first date fics? Dying for an excuse to draw sweet nose kisses? For every day in February, we will provide a prompt meant to inspire lighthearted works with Drarry as the main pairing. This is meant to be a lowkey fest, so feel free to use however many prompts on whatever day you want! Just post your work on Tumblr (tag us so we can share) or the Ao3 collection (hdcandyhearts2022) between February 1st and February 28th! Take a look at our prompt list here 💕

Guidelines

The overall theme of this fest is lighthearted works. They can be tooth-rotting fluff, funny, feel like a warm hug, or anything in-between. Of course there can be some moments of angst, but we’re all about happy endings here!

Submissions must have Draco/Harry as the main pairing, but feel free to change them up as you’d like– if you want to write trans girl Draco, nonbinary Harry, fem!Drarry, or anything else, go for it! Any side pairings are welcome.

Participate as much or as little as you’d like, and feel free to use prompts in any order on any day in February. Want to do every prompt? Great! Want to do just one? No problem, we can’t wait to see what you’ve made!

Feel free to combine these prompts with other fests/challenges running in February (such as @kinkuary)

Create whatever you want– fics, fanart, podfics (with author consent), playlists, moodboards, etc. If it’s any sort of fanwork, we’d love to see it!

There is no minimum or maximum word count for fics.

Mature and explicit works are welcome, just please tag appropriately on all platforms!

Please make sure to tag works appropriately for your content.

How to Participate

💘 Pick a prompt that you want to write/create for (you can do as many or as few as you’d like).

💘 Make something!

💘 Then, post anytime between February 1st and February 28th to Tumblr, Ao3, or both.

On Tumblr, follow @hdcandyheartsfest and use the tag #hdcandyheartsfest2022 on your works. We will reblog your work here (with credit!) as we’re tagged!

We will reblog all submissions to the Ao3 collection on Tumblr with credit and include the works in roundups and highlight posts beginning March 1st.

FAQ

What is the point of this fest?

A lowkey daily challenge meant to inspire lighthearted and sweet Drarry works during February.

Do I have to create a work for every single prompt/day?

No! This is like pick ‘n mix at a candy store– do however many prompts you’d like on any day you’d like, as long as it’s posted in February. This is meant to be a low-stress fest!

Are mature/explicit works allowed?

Absolutely! We just ask that they be tagged appropriately on any platform that you post your work to.

What about poly ships?

We ask that the main pairing be Draco/Harry only, but background ships can be as varied as you like!

We'd also like to note that this fest is very pro-trans people and anti-JKR 🏳️‍⚧️

Any questions? Just ask us!

- Your mod team @softlystarstruck, @corvuscrowned, & @lou-isfake 💖

[missdawnandherdusk]

Monster

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

Again is this what you came for?

You paid for?

To watch somebody burn and crumble and stumble

Then fumble all my words and let you twist them and listen

To all the ugly things you tell me I am

Chapter 1     Chapter 2    

Chapter 3    Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Summary: Things go from bad to worse. Not all stories have happy endings, and it would be stupid to only read the ones that did. You and Draco learn that the only way to fight prevailing evil is unconditional love.... but can you two manage? 

A/n: I’d like to formally apologize right now for how much this is going to hurt all of you because... oh boy. This gets really angsty and depressing and I’d like to remind you that Draco actually had to go through all of this alone. Sure, JKR does a lot of fucked up shit, but what she did to Draco Malfoy, I will never forgive her for. She lost my respect even before she said what she did on Twitter. But as I said before: watch me save Draco Malfoy. (P.S. If you haven’t listened to Special by Gabbie Hanna or watched the music video, I highly recommend it and then crying over it because Draco Malfoy man)

Draco paced his room, scattering his possession in his fury. His room shredded once more. What had he done? What had he said? What had just happened?

“You have some nerve showing up here,” He heard his mother hiss from downstairs.

For a moment, he thought it might be you, and false hope fluttered in his chest. Wiping away his tears, he slipped your locket into his pocket and stood. Snapping his fingers, his room started to put itself back together as it pained him to remember the first time you had done that spell for him.

Now you were gone.

He let you walk away. He said the cruelest things to you. He watched you break in front of him at his own hand. He broke his promise.

“Where is she!?” Your mother’s voice demanded from downstairs. “I know she’s here!”

Draco frowned, his thoughts spinning on a dime. Why was your mother looking for you? Wouldn’t that be the first place you ran to? Fear and panic struck his chest. Were you hurt? Did you need help? His anxiety turned back to fury.

“What do you mean where is she!?” Draco snarled, leaning over the banister. “She���s gone! No thanks to you!”

“What your tongue boy,” Your mother snarled. For a fleeting moment he saw the same fire in her eyes that resided in yours when you fought him. He dismissed the thought.

“No,” He glared, defiant. “You did this! You took her from me! She thinks I always knew! She thinks that I’ve kept it from her for years!” He descended the stairs, hurling the accusations at your mother. “She idolized you! She loved you! And you manipulated her! You manipulated me!”

“I did what I had to do,” Your mother said coolly.

“You lied to your daughter! You made her think you liked me! That you approved! And for a moment I believed it too!” He spat.

“Draco, what are you talking about?” His mother asked, coming to stand beside him.

“She gave me Y/n’s father’s wand for Christmas and told me what really happened.” He took a sharp breath in. “She never told Y/n the truth. She made me do it. She tricked me into doing it so that Y/n would hate me.” He was seething fury as he realized just how deep this treachery went.

“I had to protect her from you, but she figured it out too,” Your mother sputtered. “You Malfoys are all the same, I had to protect her!”

“No.” His mother spoke up, her voice like glass shards. “He is nothing like Lucius. The only one acting like him around here is you,” Drawing her wand, he watched his mother put a full body bind on yours without an ounce of pity. “How dare you manipulate my son! How dare you make him give up the one girl he’s ever loved! You have no idea what you’ve done!” There were tears in his mother’s eyes. He had never seen his mother cry before.

Her eyes met his.

“Go. Find her. Bring her home.”

He flew up the stairs, grabbing his wand and cloak and broomstick, racing off into the night. He had no idea where to start looking for you. If you weren’t at home and you weren’t with him, he didn’t have an inkling to where you would go. As Pinnae you could be anywhere.

Panicked, he started to scan the landscape below him for any sign that you would actually try to come back here. There was no sign of you.

His thoughts raced out of control believing that you could be in serious trouble, or worse, taken by the Dark Lord. That would be his luck at this point. There was one thing that gave him hope: you knew that he never meant to hurt you with the truth about both of your fathers.

His wand, tucked in his robe pocket, began to grow warm until it almost burned him. Drawing it, he realized that he had picked up your father’s wand, not his own. It hummed in his hand, he wondered if your mother lied about the wand wanting to protect you as it responded to him.

Silvery streams emerged from the end... the residue of a Patronus.

He couldn’t cast a Patronus at any other time let alone now. He was hopeless and angry and scared.

But he had to find you before a Death Eater did. Before Voldemort did. Before his aunt did. 

“Expecto Patronum!” He roared, thinking of how much he needed you.

A silver roaring lion burst forth from the wand.

“Oh, you’ve got to be bloody joking,” Draco muttered and watched the Patronus leap to the ground and race off in a direction that held no consequence to him. But he trusted that it would lead him to you.

He raced into the city, watching the glowing lion soar over the rooftops before stopping at a home of no consequence to him. Draco dropped to the street, veiled under darkness. His Patronus paced anxiously along the small path to the door of the house.

__________________________

“Y/n?” A familiar voice called my name and I dared to look up. 

“Abby?” I squeaked.

“Merlin Y/n!” She rushed to my side, wrapping her arms around me. “You’ve had us worried sick!”

“Us?” I asked, wiping away my tears.

“Our mothers and me,” She answered, and I scowled.

With a shaky voice I explained to Abby what had happened. About Draco and my fight, then the confrontation between my mother and me. It was almost easier when I retold it. It seemed less real.

“Lucius killed my father,” I said the words again, and they were just as heavy on my lips. My eyes falling on the gravestone. “I’ve lost... everyone, Abby,”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Abby scoffed gently, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Everyone? Really? I didn’t know your life began and ended with Draco Malfoy,” There was a soft smile on her face.

I gaped at her and the words set in. I didn’t really lose everyone. Not even close. She right there beside me. And I thought of her parents, and Pansy, and Ernie, and Luna... My life didn’t begin and end with Draco—no mistake, he was a very nice part of it—and though it might have begun with my mother, it didn’t end there either.

“And I know, between Draco and Pansy, we haven’t hung out as much as we used to. And I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but you haven’t lost me Y/n,” She wrapped me into a hug, and I clung to her. “I’d still give anything for you. Hufflepuffs for life,”

I let out a hopeless laugh, pulling away from our hug.

“He probably hates me. I should have stopped and listened...” I confessed the sad truth. “Maybe he’s right... I run away to my stories and ignore reality,”

“Those stories have kept you alive,” Abby encouraged. “They’ve kept you going in the midst of reality.” She took my hand. “So, how about we try again and find a new story?”

I nodded, smiling and feeling better. Something was pacified in my chest. It still hurt, sure, but there was a comfort that I wasn’t alone any longer. That I could try again. That I could take the next step.

“Come on,” Abby stood. “Let’s get out of here,”

I nodded and took her hand, finding my balance. She grabbed her broomstick and there was a silent question in her eyes: was I going to ride or fly? I smiled and we both boarded the broomstick and flew back toward the outskirts of London to a town house I knew well.

Crashed on Abby’s bed—after Abby gave a quick run-down of what was happening to her parents—I rubbed my face and finally felt myself relax for the first time tonight. The familiarity of Abby’s roomed calmed me and her comforting words—reminding me that I wasn’t alone— now covered me like a blanket.

Just like when we were kids, Abby and I curled up in her bed and watched the stars peer over the rooftops of London as the glow in the dark sticker stars smiled at us from the ceiling.

________________________________

Draco rang the doorbell and was met with a stranger with the same piercing eyes that your best friend had.

“She said you might find your way here,” Mr. Bones smiled. “Come on in son,” 

“Is she here? Y/n?” His voice was quick and panicked.

“Asleep upstairs. Both girls are,” Abby’s father locked the door behind him.

Draco stood, rigid, not sure what to do. He wanted to see you more than anything. He wanted to know that you were okay. He wanted to apologize and plead for forgiveness and hold you close until everything was secure... but if you were asleep, he knew you needed it. So, he could wait. Mr. Bones led him into a sitting room, and he felt like he was being scrutinized.

“Now, from what I understand, you have been through quite a lot recently,” Draco nodded at his words, clenching his jaw. “And though I am not your father, I am here for you. My wife and I both are. This is a safe place for you, as it always has been for Y/n and Abby.”

That caught Draco by surprise. Surely, he knew of what his father had done. Of what he had done. If you had spoken with him, then he knew a lot more than most. And yet, those were the first words offered to him by a stranger who didn’t know him from Adam. Draco was welcomed in this small home? He didn’t understand it.

“I know this road isn’t easy for you either.” Abby’s father sighed, not noting Draco’s bafflement. “You are aware of what is coming, more than I will ever understand,” His tone was sympathetic. “And I fear that I cannot change what has happened or what will come, but I can encourage you and offer some guidance if you are willing to listen,”

Draco nodded mutely, a strange feeling growing in his chest. Now that he was over the shock of the situation... something else settled within him. It was kin to the one he felt around his friends and perhaps his mother... but this was different. This was new.

“Draco, son, from what I’ve heard from the girls, tonight was difficult between you and Y/n. She is like a daughter to me as much as Abby is, and though I would love to protect her as such, I know that you perhaps need me a bit more.” Abby’s father offered a kind smile. 

“Though I cannot step into your shoes, I can only imagine that you are upset because you had no choice in what happened tonight, or the information that you were given, and yet the fault and responsibility was laid on your shoulders. And therefore, you lashed out with angry words in fear, and it’s understandable. But you must remember why you were afraid, of why you were angry.”

Draco nodded and looked down at his hands. The strange feeling in his chest grew a bit more and his hands began to shake slightly as his eyes stung with unshed tears. For the first time in his life someone blatantly said they understood why he has such a sharp tongue. It was a strange feeling of relief. But it went deeper, Draco was challenged to think of something he never had before: why was he scared and angry?

“I can’t pretend to think that you’ve had a proper view on what love should be from those around you,” Draco’s eyes flashed up, his internal monologue pausing, about to protest but Mr. Bones held a hand up, stopping him. “I understand that you may love Y/n, and I do not deny it, but love is so much more than you will ever believe,” Mr. Bones pressed on. 

“So, you both lashed out—I cannot place all of the blame on you, I know Y/n can be a bit hot headed when she’s angry,” There was a soft reminiscent smile on the wizard’s face. “You lashed out because your love was being threatened.”

There it was. 

The realization washed over him. Of course, it made sense as to why he lashed out. Of why he said those unforgivable things. That was the reason he never found to the question he never asked. He left like his love was being threatened. His love for his parents, his love for the life they had given him. His love for you, his love for the second chance you had given him at life. He lashed out in anger and fear because he loved... and maybe he loved too much... too fiercely that ended up getting him into trouble.

“But love, it keeps no record of wrongs. It always protects. Always trusts, and always hopes...” Mr. Bones sounded like he was quoting something, melancholy in his voice. “Knowledge... it’s important. The truth just as much so. Words are said, but they’re forgotten with time... but love prevails despite it all,”

Draco wanted to believe in that sort of love. A selfless unconditional love that could forgive him, but what evidence did he have that it could exist?

He stopped the depressing thought and truly began to think, picking up his early train of thought. You were unconditional when you held him that night his father was sent to Azkaban. Abby was selfless when she trusted him enough to be alone with you and didn’t mind that he took up a lot of your time. Pansy’s defense of him was always unconditional, no matter if he was right or wrong, even before he had you. His mother loved him and his father despite the abuse she suffered over the years and refused to leave his side even now.

And before him, Mr. Bones, Abby’s father, a man who married a muggle, invited him into his home in the middle of the night, sat him down, and gave him advice. Good advice. A man who kept you safe and loved you like a daughter. A man who held no hesitancy in calling him son or extending the same protection over him as well. A man he had met maybe ten minutes ago.

Draco could believe in that sort of love.

 ____________________________

Padding down the stairs half-awake in the morning, it was still dark, and the sun hadn’t had a chance to rise yet. Abby’s parents were both awake: Abby’s mom was a teacher, having already left for her muggle school, and Abby’s father worked for the Ministry. Abby herself was still fast asleep when my body decided that it was awake.

I nearly had a heart attack when I looked up and Draco was causally sharing a cup of coffee with Abby’s dad like he’d been doing it his entire life. His hair was a mess—as it always was in the morning, but there was the same sleepy smile on his lips.

Then he caught sight of me and dropped his mug. It shattered on the floor and he jumped cursing. Abby’s father laughed and easily cleaned up the mess with magic and I might have giggled too.

“Hey,” I offered softly, going into the kitchen getting two new mugs from the cupboard and making us both coffees.

“Good morning,” His voice was a bit shaky as he leaned against the counter. I offered him his mug and took a sip of my own.

“So... look, I’m sorry about—”

“I’m sorry about what—”

We both tripped over the other’s words, then I started to chuckle, and Draco dissolved into laughter beside me. It was a sad, hopeful sort of laughter that held yearning and forgiveness. He took my hands and in his gentle voice, he began again.

“I lashed out in anger and fear. And I said some awful things to you. And I’m very sorry,” His blue eyes seemed to hold the world in them. “Forgive me?”

“If you can forgive me,” My eyes watered as I looked up at him. “I should have stopped and listened and I’m sorry,”

He wrapped me in his arms, and though, I knew that my life didn’t begin and end with Draco, it was still nice to have him be a part of my life. It was like a part of me had come home. Now that we were together and everything was more or less settled between us, I didn’t feel alone at all anymore.

He withdrew from the hug and reached for his coffee, but I grabbed his arm.

“Have you slept at all?” I narrowed my eyes at him. His lack of response gave me my answer.

I went to the cabinet over the stove and pulled out a vial. I glanced to Abby’s dad and he nodded in permission and I gave it to Draco.

“You need to sleep,” I pressed.

“Do you just know where everything is here?” He mused, taking the vial.

“Draco,” I chided, noting his sudden change of subject.

“I know, I know. But I... I’d like to be able to sleep in my own bed,” The confession was almost guilty.

“Then we go back to the Manor,” I took his free hand. “You need to take care of yourself.” 

“But what about you and—”

“It’ll still be waiting when you’ve woken up,” I smiled and took a deep breath. “Can Abby come with us?” I looked around Draco to her dad.

“I think this is something that you two need to do alone. Abby will be available; all you need to do is send a Patronus message.” He smiled. “Let her sleep though,”

“But I can’t—” I started to explain that neither of us could cast a Patronus to send a message. 

“I can,” Draco blurted out.

My attention turned to him, a shocked look on my face.

“You can what now?”

“I... I can cast a Patronus?” He admitted sheepishly, like I was going to yell at him. “I picked up your father’s wand on accident, when I left to find you,” He still wasn’t daring to look at me. “I... I was frantic thinking that maybe they got you... and the wand just... I cast a Patronus, and it led me to you,”

“The wand... and you... and... wow.” My mind processed all of the information. “So, I guess the wand really is yours,”

I wasn’t as upset about the ordeal as I was last night. In fact, I felt better knowing that my father’s wand was in good hands and that it had helped Draco find and protect me. Maybe my father was watching over me after all. The thought made me smile.

“Y/n, wait, no,” Draco fumbled. “You can have it back, you were right—”

“Hey,” I called softly. “It’s alright. The wand belongs to you. He would want you to have it,” I smiled. “Wand lore is a finicky subject, and a wand’s loyalty even more so... but I do believe in my father’s spirit, and I do believe that that wand found its way to you for a reason. Even if the methods were... questionable.” I decided. “I would like my locket back though, if you don’t mind.” A warm smile grew on my lips as I held out my hand.

Draco reached into his pocket and carefully slipped the necklace into my hand and I took a moment to fasten it around my neck, the familiar weight soothing me.

Abby’s dad led us to the hearth and took out the box of Floo Powder.

“Maybe I should go first,” Draco caught my hand. “Just in case. I’ll come back and let you know if it’s alright or not,”

I nodded and watched him grab the powder and with practiced ease, clearly state Malfoy Manor. I waited anxiously for his return my mind started to draw up worst case sceneries, then another part of my mind telling the former to shut up.

“Thank you, for everything,” I smiled and hugged Abby’s dad. “It might not seem like it, but it means the world to him, what you did.”

“I’m glad I could help darling, let me know if you two ever need anything at all,” He smiled as Draco reappeared in the hearth.

“Come on,” Draco smiled and we both were whisked away to the Manor.

Narcissa greeted us as we stepped into the grand living room. She gathered Draco into a hug, and then pulled me into her embrace as well. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, an unspoken promise passing between us as we hugged. Draco and I headed upstairs without another word.

I watched him toe off his shoes and head to an en suite bathroom to change, and after a while I heard the shower running. His room was a bit different in the daylight. My things were still in the corner and everything seemed a bit too neat. I could hear the words echo off the walls that were said less than twelve hours ago... it felt like a lifetime ago.

I picked up Draco’s copy of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe and smiled when the dandelion greeted me on the page that I had underlined over a year ago.

“Don’t you have that memorized by now?” His voice was soft and playful. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him in sweats and messy damp hair. 

“Not entirely,” I quipped back, setting the book down.

He gathered me into his arms carefully as I glanced around the room. It had such a strong scent of just him that I relaxed easily. With the curtains drawn, it was as dark as it had been the night before, save the bedside lamp. Crawling under the cover of his bed, we curled up together as we had done so many times before. Draco’s eyes had a hard time staying open and never really opened completely.

“It’s a lion,” He mumbled out.

“What’s a lion?” I asked, running my hand through his damp silvery hair. 

“My Patronus.”

A small chuckle escaped my lips.

“Oh, what would Harry say?” I teased softly. “Or your father?” 

“I don’t really give a damn,”

I laughed again and continued to card through his hair. I remembered that he had told me that I was cute when I was half awake and I understood, because a half-awake Draco was precious. He didn’t curse too often, but the word just slipped out almost naturally, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

After a while his eyes didn’t open again, and his breathing evened out. I tried to sleep; I really did. But I couldn’t. I picked up the book from the bedside table and began to read once more. The hours slipped by, my eyes becoming heavier.

When I opened my eyes again, I was extremely stiff. Without thinking I stretched my arms and heard a muffled grumble from Draco who I had just dislodged from his curled-up position next to me.

“Sorry,” I ruffed his hair as an apology and slipped out of bed, stretching completely this time. 

“What time is it?” His grumpy voice mumbled.

“Uh, I think a little after six?” I squinted at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, that’s how clocks work,”

“Our sleep schedules are so screwed.” Draco sat up and rubbed his face, groaning.

“Well, we’ll take a Sleeping Potion later and everything will be fixed,” I said, not so optimistic that that would be the course of action in a few hours.

We headed downstairs where dinner was laid out on the dining room table. Narcissa was eating quietly, nose in a book. She looked up when we both hovered by the door.

“Good morning sleeping beauties,” She teased lightly and gestured to the food laid for us. We ate in silence, still not fully awake.

Draco was right, our sleep schedules were screwed. It was about ten and the stars had come out to play and we were both still wide awake. Narcissa had bid us goodnight not too long ago and Draco and I were out on the grounds, the moon and our wands lighting our way.

“You’re going to forgive her, aren’t you?” Draco asked softly. “Your mother.”

I hummed in acknowledgement and couldn’t deny that I had been toying with the idea. On the one hand, she was my mother but at the same time, she hurt me deeply and she hurt the one that I loved.

“Forgive... I think so. But it won’t ever be the same again...” I whispered to the gravel path under our feet.

Draco took my hand and stood in front of me, his other hand tilting my chin back softly. 

“You know I’d do anything to keep you safe, right?” He murmured softly.

“Of course,” I replied reaching up and stroking his cheek. “But we’ve never faced anything like this before,”

“And we need to plan, because I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not live in constant fear without some idea of what to do,”

I nodded. “So, what were you thinking?”

“Well, I’ve more or less organized our problems,” He admitted sheepishly. “I was hoping that you might have some solutions,”

“Well, what problems do we have?” I nudged his side as we sat on the soft grass under an apple tree on the outskirt of the Manor. Fireflies danced around us. It seemed almost surreal, to talk of such darkness and evil in the midst of beauty. Like something sacred was being tread upon.

“In forefront,” He began. “Would be my aunt. She is still quite taken with my mother, and though my mother has shown her disdain for Bellatrix... she’s obsessed with the family name. And she won’t be too keen on you with me. I thank the stars you’re a pureblood, but...”

“In her eyes, I’m a blood traitor,” I mused, resting my chin on my knees. “Yeah... and a Hufflepuff,” A giggle left my lips despite it all. “How ridiculous that seems now... a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin,”

Draco rolled his eyes and chuckled. “But I think my mother has something that might help, but it would be asking a lot...”

“I think we’re a bit passed being hesitant around what we ask of another,” I pointed out.

“Maybe so,” He sighed. “But I want you to know that I wish it would all go away, and we could be normal teenagers and not have to worry about a war... and I’d give anything for that,”

I looked up at him. His face was pressed into a cold, somber mask as he looked off to the stars in the sky.

“I know, I do too.” I acknowledged. “But... this is what we have... a war. Reality,” He flinched at the word.

“Sorry,” I mended. “Bad choice of words.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for saying those things to you,” He admitted softly. I sighed softly and intertwined me fingers with his, resting my head on his shoulder.

“I think that comes with time,” I shrugged softly. “Forgiving ourselves of what we’ve done... learning to love what we see in the mirror,” A quiet moment passed. “You know I forgive you right? For that night?”

He nodded, moping. I smiled because it was so like him to do and I was happy to know that even though it all, Draco was still there, underneath all the fear and worry.

“So, Bellatrix,” I took a deep breath. “You said your mom might have an answer?” He nodded. “Okay, next problem?”

“The Dark Lord,”

“I think that’s everyone’s problem Dray,” I drawled and pouted at the flat look he gave me.

“He’s going to come for me. I know it. Because my father failed him... and because it seems like I’ve been marked for it since birth...” He rubbed his face, hiding in his hands. “I don’t know what he’s going to want from me but... I’m terrified that he’s going to make me take the Mark,”

“You think he’ll make you?” I squeaked, trying to keep my voice even. “I thought he was selective about his inner circle?”

“I think he’ll do it just to punish my father, regardless if he wants me or not,” That was the sad truth of the matter.

I nodded and thought a moment.

“Then we can talk to Snape... he should know something that could help us... and I guess your mother would have an idea because she went through it with your father...” I paused. “I’ve never really looked into Dark Magic before...”

Draco gaped at me.

“Are you hearing yourself!?” He demanded, standing and pacing away from me. “You... you can’t look into Dark Magic. I... I won’t let you,” His voice was shaky.

I rose, nearly stumbling and caught myself.

“Draco, we don’t have a lot of options here,” I pressed.

“But you can’t!” He almost roared.

“And why not!?” I shot back.

“Because I need you to be my sunshine! I need you to stay pure and good! I need that!” Tears streamed down his face. “I need you to be my fairytale that I can run to,”

Whatever I was about to say to him fell from my lips. My heart about shattered as I took a careful step towards him. He didn’t back away from me, so I took that as a good sign.

“Draco,” My voice was soft. “I will always be your sunshine, but I won’t leave you to walk through this alone. I said it was stupid, but I am a Hufflepuff. I believe in kindness and good and always will, but ignorance is dangerous. It’s the difference from being harmless and peaceful,”

I reached out and took his hand. His shoulder shook softly with tears. I tilted his chin back and wiped them away.

“There,” I whispered, smiling. “Problem solved,”

He laughed at my poor excuse for a joke and curled his arms around me.

“Any other problems?” I teased lightly.

“Loads,” He mused back. “But... they’ll come in their own time I suppose.”

____________________________________

“Mother,” Draco spoke softly. “I think it’s time that you took Y/n to Paris,”

“Paris?” You squeaked. “Like Paris, Paris? This is your solution to Bellatrix?”

“Yes darling,” Draco cooed softly, smiling. “If you’re going to be by my side through all of this, and you’d like to be protected from Bellatrix, well, you need to look like a proper Malfoy,”

You gawked up at him, something shining in your eyes. He could see the excitement growing and wondered if you ever had anything new or designer before. Recalling your cutoffs and t- shirts, he thought maybe not.

“But I can’t ask this from you guys,” You fumbled turning to his mother. “Really, it’s a nice gesture but,”

“Think nothing of it dear,” Narcissa fluttered her hand. “Draco is correct, if you’re going to get through this, you need to look like a Malfoy.” She rose and set down her book. “Shall we then?”

“Wait,” You pulled Draco’s hand. “Abby will actually kill me if she doesn’t come,” 

“Of course,” Narcissa smiled.

“Should I feel this ridiculous?” You walked out of the fitting room for what seemed like the hundredth time and Draco’s heart still skipped a beat.

He couldn’t deny, though he loved you in your casual clothes, seeing you formal and proper did something else to him. The ladies in the shops all fawned over you and your beauty and fluttered around with about twenty new things for you to try on each time you found one thing you liked.

“Yes,” Draco smiled smugly. “But you get used to it,”

“Isn’t this all a bit much?” You looked down at your jet-black dress that hugged you in all of the right places and the pair of high stilettos and sheer tights that were paired with it. “I get keeping up appearances but how the hell am I supposed to walk around Hogwarts in these?”

“Balance Charm,” Narcissa chimed in. “But you may be right, you are still going to have to attend school,” His mother switched to French, “Maybe something a bit more casual. Not as tight. She needs range of motion,”

“You’re still getting that dress, right?” Abby peeked out from the other dressing room curtain. 

“Yes,” Both you and Draco answered at the same time, both turning varying shades of red.

Before either of you could make the situation worse, the associates of the store pulled you back into the fitting rooms, yelling at you in French and he laughed because he knew you had no idea what they were telling you. With an entire new wardrobe—that you pulled him away from the register before you could hear the total—you looked like you had walked out of a high fashion catalogue.

Sure, you were in something simpler—a deep green flowing high-waisted skirt and a black blouse with pearl earrings and necklace, still in the same heels you complained about earlier— but Draco couldn’t stop looking at you. Nor could he stop himself from finding your reflection in the shop windows and feeling a bit satisfied about how well you fit by his side.

Abby bid you a goodbye after lunch and pestered you about taking pictures of everything else you bought. You laughed and didn’t exactly promise anything, but there was something hidden in your eyes. After a while you relaxed and really started to branch out. Choosing things that you were interested in, and not looking so nervous—like you were going to break whatever you touched.

“She really is lovely,” His mother spoke softly in French. “I’m so glad you have her through all of this,”

Draco nodded and watched your fingers run over the soft fabric of new dress robes that were the same deep green as the dress you wore to the Solstice Ball the summer prior. How things had changed since then.

Draco was sure that he had seen it all, and that you couldn’t get any more perfect and beautiful, but Merlin was he wrong. His mother shooed him out of one salon and told him to wait outside. He did, not without rolling his eyes, however.

You emerged, looking at him expectantly. Though your hair was still short, it was neat and not the normal disarray that occurred when you ran your hand through it to keep it from your eyes. Your face looked as if it had been airbrushed, a light pink to your cheeks and a deep red to your lips that invited him in. You noticed him noticing you and the pink on your cheeks deepened.

Yet, he still missed something about you that held summer days, and reading in the sun, and muggle t-shirts and bare feet.

“Y-you look lovely,” He stammered out.

You blinked at him. “What?”

His mother laughed and placed her hands on your shoulders.

“He said you look lovely,” She rolled her eyes at her son. “And to think you still know French after all this time,”

Draco realized his mistake and turned pink.

“I didn’t know you knew French,” You took his arm and walked with him down the Parisian street.

“Mother taught me,” He explained. “I thought I had lost touch with it, but apparently not,”

After returning to the Manor, his mother took you away for a moment and left Draco to his thoughts. The big house didn’t seem so cold and empty anymore now that you had made a home here. Your echoes and ghosts danced through the room that he walked into.

________________________________

“Narcissa, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve given me,” I sat beside her in the smaller sitting room.

“Nor I, you my dear,” She smiled. “I understand what went down between you and your mother, and I truly am sorry.”

My eyes flickered to the floor, studying the Persian rug beneath my feet.

“And after everything that you have done for this family, and for my son, I extend an invitation for you to have a home here. Many things are coming for the both of you, and I think it would rest easier on you both, as well as my own heart, if you were close and safe.”

“Mrs. Malfoy—I... I can’t. That’s too much,” 

“It is just enough,” She nearly scolded.

My eyes met hers and I tried to figure out what I should do. Did she mean that she wanted me to stay? Would the Malfoy Manor be my new home? Could I give it all up and stay?

Then I thought, what was I giving up and what was I gaining? 

“I’ll stay,” I smiled.

“Wonderful,” She stood and drew me into a hug. “Now, I know that you and Draco are both concerned about my sister, and perhaps I am as well, but, for right now, I wish nothing more for you and Draco to have these last few moments to be kids,” She stroked my hair softly. “So do not fret darling, not now,”

I nodded, knowing that her words were easier said than done. But I tried anyway.

Draco and I spent the next few weeks together as we had the summer before. I read to him, we walked the grounds, he played the piano for me, I spent some of the days flying as Pinnae with Draco flying on his broom beside me, Abby and Pansy came over, we practiced magic and defense spells, I read up on Dark Magic, Draco tried to stop me from doing that, we went swimming in the lake in the wood, I pestered Draco until I achieved making him speak French for me—the language not...

Anyway.

It became a new sort of normal. I had written to my mother and we were on speaking terms, but I had boundaries now. I wouldn’t let her hurt me again like she had before. Slowly my books started arriving from my mother as well as most of my other belongings until I had my own room at the Manor filled with my books and other possessions. A room that was heavily enchanted so that only I or Draco could enter.

Though I read to Draco most days, and sometimes Narcissa would stay in and listen—she was gone most days, meeting her sister at other locations trying to keep her from the Manor—there was something to be said about the silk that fell from Draco’s lips on the rare occasion he read to me.

We were a tangle of limbs and blankets one night and he took the book from my hands after my words began to slur too much for his liking. Setting the book side, he chose another form my pile and opening the book, he began to read:

“Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?'

So, she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, 'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.”

His voice was as honey when he read. He wove together the story in my mind taking my hand and pulling me further and further into the tale. I was lost, my hand in his. Down the rabbit-hole and into a wonderland.

Dawn filtered in through the curtains and I woke up meeting silvery blue eyes continuing to read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. I shifted, scooting up and laying my head on his shoulder, letting him know that I was awake.

“Morning,” he greeted softly. “Did I wake you?”

I shook my head softly and slipped my eyes shut.

“Do you want me to read aloud?” He pondered; his voice soft.

“If you want,” I yawned.

That was the last day it seemed that we had to ourselves. Darkness spread that night. An evil that no one could deny nor escape. And it came for Draco and me.

Draco was asleep beside me and I read the end of Dante’s Inferno wondering why I had even started to read it in the first place. The tragedy offered me no comfort. The light from the bedside table was snuffed out, plunging me into total darkness. I drew my wand, trying to cast a lighting charm, but my voice didn’t seem to work.

“So, you thought you could hide from me, young one?” The voice was sinister and made my blood turn to ice.

“Bellatrix,” I whispered, my eyes adjusting, catching sight of the deranged witch.

“Come quietly little pet,” Bellatrix smiled manically. “No need to wake the young prince,”

I looked down on Draco, who was sleeping so soundly. There was not a fear nor worry on his face. He was at amity.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin his moment of peace, now would we?” She purred. “Don’t worry, The Dark Lord has plans for him too,”

I squeezed my eyes shut and carefully extracted myself from Draco’s grasp, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before turning to Bellatrix.

“Just don’t hurt him,” I begged softly.

“That is not for you to bargain,” Bellatrix snapped, grabbing my arm violently, ripping the wand from my hand.

I felt the familiar pull of Apperating and was in the middle of a forest that held no consequence to me surrounded by hooded figures. I wanted to crumple to the ground and cry again. Couldn’t I have just one moment of safety?

“No, my dear I think not,” A raspy voice purred.

The hooded figures turned and dipped their head in reverence to this voice. This thing. This monster.

“You,” Fear froze me into place.

Bellatrix pulled my hair and I felt a sharp blade run across chest. I let out a sharp cry.

“You will speak with respect to The Dark Lord,” She hissed into my ear, throwing me down.

“Me,” His smile was wicked, his red snake like eyes seeing straight through me. “You should consider yourself quite honored, not many have the privilege of meeting me,”

“So, you’re going to kill me then? To get to Draco?” I hissed, surprisingly courageous for the given situation.

“Quite courageous indeed,” Voldemort mused. “And yet you are nothing but a Hufflepuff. Weak. Kind,” He sneered the word. “Favoring fair play?” The Death Eaters jeered around us. “The world isn’t fair, my pet,”

“I’m aware,” I narrowed my eyes at him, pulling myself up. The cut on my collar began to sting and burn. I covered it with my hand in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Again, his crimson eyes delved deep into my psyche, peering at me as if I were something to be studied.

“It seems you might,” He took a step closer to me. “But you truly have no idea, do you?”

It felt like I was being ripped from my mind and placed somewhere else. A room I knew well, the foyer of the Manor. A man I had only seen in photos was bloodied and bruised on the floor.

“Please, please,” He rasped. “Please, I have a child, Lucius,”

Tears sprung into my eyes. I reached out to my father, trying to comfort him, but my hand passed through him, as I were a ghost.

At wand point, I stood between my father and Lucius, greeting a cold stare that I loathed. This was the man that had hurt the people I loved. First my father, then my mother, then Draco.

Voldemort’s claw like hands snatched me out of the way and gripped my neck and waist, forcing me to watch what I knew was coming. I found myself not able to look away, even though my muscles screamed to, my body would not respond.

“See where love gets you? What happens?” He hissed over the sound of my father’s screams and a bright green flash.

I was released and crumpled to the ground.

“Then your mother... she was supposed to love you. Didn’t turn out so well either did it?” Voldemort laughed as did the others around me. I hung my head, tears streaming silently.

“Just kill me,” I whispered. “And be done,”

“But where is the fun if we don’t break you first?” Voldemort mused. “It’s one thing to kill, another to watch someone be utterly destroyed when then realize that everything they believed in was nothing more than a fairytale. To be so impossibly wrong that it extinguishes you.”

“How have I been wrong?” I snapped, looking up.

“Watch your tongue!” Bellatrix shouted, casting a curse sending me reeling in pain. I didn’t even notice that I was screaming.

“Now, now dear Bella,” The Dark Lord chided. “She does not know to whom she speaks. Her ignorance is no reason to punish her,”

The pain stopped.

“Your utter blind belief in love however,” Voldemort smiled maliciously. “That is something to break,”

“You can’t break that,” I gasped out. “You can break my body, and my mind, and maybe my spirit, but not my love,”

“But my dear, who do you have to love? Your father is dead. Your mother betrayed you. Your friends? Where are they now?”

“Draco,” I rasped out. “I love him.”

“He does not belong to you,” Voldemort laughed. “He is mine and has been since the moment he was born, you foolish girl.”

“Yes, I am a foolish girl,” I refuted, drawing up on my arms. “I love him, and he loves me! And you cannot break that, not with a thousand swords, and you cannot track that! Not with a thousand spells,” I stood on shaky feet.

The pain that exploded in my chest had me back on the ground writhing in pain. In utter agony. Every cell was being burned alive as they seemed to unattached themselves from the other. I felt myself being ripped apart and unmade by the universe.

“Stop,” I heard faintly. “We need her alive, for now,” 

_____________________________

When Draco woke, inky blackness surrounded him. He was alone in bed, even though knew you were beside him when he fell asleep. You book was thrown unceremoniously to the floor. Fear gripped his heart.

When he rose, he found your wand discarded on the ground. Anxiety and terror began to grow in his chest. Dressing quickly, he hurried downstairs and found the Manor completely empty. He called for you, but there was no answer.

Come and join us young Malfoy, A dreadful voice hissed.

Without a second thought he plunged into the darkness of the night, desperate to find you.

Desperate to make sure that you were still alive.

Draco rushed into the circle of dark cloaks, coming face to face with Voldemort. He didn’t care though, he just wanted to find you. His eyes fell to the forest floor and he almost collapsed in relief that you were alive, cowering on the ground. His aunt’s wand was trained on you, and he could see the deep gashes along your skin. Blood mingled with dirt.

“Young Draco!” Voldemort called, a wicked smile on his face. “What an unparalleled delight, I had rather hoped you come,”

There was a snickering that rose from the Death Eaters around him.

“Free her,” Draco snarled. “Do what you want to me, but let her go,” His voice was cutting, like his father’s. “She has no hand in this,”

He heard your feeble voice try to protest, but you were silenced when Bellatrix raised her wand, not even having to cast a spell. The Dark Lord laughed.

“Your lover makes a passionate plea,” Voldemort knelt down beside you, gripping your chin with his claw like hands. “Perhaps you haven’t been lying and he truly does love you,” He threw you to the ground, where you didn’t get back up again.

Draco’s blood boiled as Voldemort faced him.

“You have become weak like your father. He failed me and now I will punish him by taking you.” The Dark Lord stalked closer to him. “You will join me. You will take my mark. You will execute a task for me,”

Draco held his head high and squared his shoulders, his eyes not leaving your unmoving form. He knew this was coming, but he didn’t care. He had to keep you alive.

“If you refuse,” The Dark Lord chuckled. “She dies, and you become mine anyway,”

You lifted your head, your large round eyes meeting his, almost no light left in them. He couldn’t bear to think of any moment when the light was completely gone from them. He understood his father a bit more.

“I will join you,” Draco breathed out. “My loyalty is yours,”

“Very good!” Voldemort clasped his hands together. “I hope you will not disappoint me like your father.”

“I am not my father,” Draco hissed. 

________________________________

I watched as black robes and masks surrounded Draco, one holding his shoulders, one forcing out his left arm and another yanking his hair so that his head was raised and trained on the Dark Lord. Crazed fear was written on his features as he locked eyes with Voldemort who drew his wand.

Hopeless cries left my lips at the sight, my eyes wet with unshed tears. Bellatrix dampened her foot on my arm as means to quiet me. I bit my lip, trying to hold back a scream.

Then a hopelessness settled over me, pure darkness and evil that took away every inkling of love and faith that I possessed. Despite the utter despair, I kept my eyes trained on Draco. I wouldn’t abandon him. Not now. He wouldn’t be alone.

The darkness coiled like a snake, slithering from Voldemort’s wand and bound Draco’s arm. There was a chanting that I didn’t understand the meaning of. Trembling words left Draco’s lips in the same ancient chant.

A piercing sound tore through me. It was worse than the darkness. It was worse than hopelessness. Draco’s desperate screams of agony shattered me to my core. I covered my ears with my hands despite the pain from the broken bones and deep gashes. It was nothing in comparison to the pain that Draco’s shrieks punctured my heart.

Then it was over.

A chill washed over me. I dared to open my eyes and lowered my hands from my ears.

The mass of black robes had vanished. Draco was kneeling on the ground not yards from me, shaking. His head was bowed, his hands grasping at the dirt.

I pulled myself up and dragged myself over to him. Part of me marveled that I was still alive. 

“What did they do to you?” Draco’s voice shook as he lifted his right hand and stroked my hair. 

“I’m fine,” I rasped, wincing as I sat up. “Draco,”

“Don’t.” He breathed out. “Just...”

I nodded and pulled up next to him, laying my head on his shoulder. I could see the deep dark etching on his skin of the Dark Mark. It burned my heart that it was there to save me.

“Let’s go home?” I whimpered.

“Y/n, you... you shouldn’t... I’m not...” He stammered out.

“You just took that to save my life,” I reached up and lifted his chin; his blue haunted eyes met mine, filled with hopelessness and despair. “Hell, if I’m going anywhere,”

He nodded and pulled me into his arms. Drawing his wand—my father’s wand—from his blazer he whispered a soft spell and my wounds started to undo themselves. I felt my strength returning and my hand mending itself. I flexed it and the pain was gone.

“Dray,”

He shook his head.

“No, you’re going to hear this,” I took his face in my hands. “Thank you. Thank you for what you did for me.” Stroking his cheek softly I pressed my lips to his softly. “I love you,”

There was a loud crack and Draco and I flinched until there was a familiar tear streaked face. 

“Mother?” Draco rasped.

“Oh Draco,” She rushed and knelt beside us. “I’m so sorry, they wouldn’t let me be here, I would have,” Her hands brushed through his hair in the same delicate way mine did.

I leaned away and let them have their moment. Then she reached out for me, tears glistening in her eyes as her hand stroked my face.

“I am in your debt once again my dear,” She whispered. “You were there for him when I couldn’t be,”

“It’s all my fault,” I sniffed. “He did it to save me, he... he was gonna kill me.”

“I know, but the fault does not rest with you.” Narcissa pulled us both close. “Let’s go home you two,”

My mind seemed to go numb and onto autopilot. Draco and I carried another back to the Manor and back up the stairs to his room. His mother started to draw a bath, the sweet scents sending a calming aura that had no effect on Draco or me. Narcissa left a jar of cream on the counter and stroked his cheek softly and squeezed my hand before leaving us alone.

With shaky hands I unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it from his shoulders. Silent tears fell down both of our faces. Somehow, we managed to end up in the silky water together. His hands, trembling and unsure, unhurriedly washed the dirt and blood from my skin. I reached out, taking his left hand and turning it palm up, gazing upon the gruesome mark that was left.

A sob wracked through Draco’s frame as he pulled his arm away and curled in on himself, weeping.

I had been wrong.

I could be shattered.

I could be broken.

I stretched out, my quivering hand resting on his arm and a broken cry left my lips.

For once in my life I had no idea what to do. I had no idea how to fix this or what next step to take. I was scared and felt estranged. For the first time in my life I was angry with the universe because why had it come to this? What had either of us done so wrong to deserve this?

It sent me into tears and panic. Draco eventually pulled me into his arms, and I clung to him, as we both broke down on each other. Dawn glittered in through the window, but darkness still loomed over us like a heavy cloud.

I don’t remember curling up in his bed, but I found myself there anyway.

Neither of us attempted to sleep. We knew that it was a lost cause. I came to my senses when I noticed that Draco was raking his nails along his forearm, in a feeble attempt to clear the skin of the dark ink.

“Draco,” I chided, taking his hand, pulling it from the irritated skin.

He jerked away from my touch and rolled over in his bed, facing away from me. I tried to shove down the rejection that spread through my chest and rose from the bed. Padding softly to the bathroom, I took the jar that Narcissa had left, understanding its purpose.

I knelt down beside Draco, my hand extended in a silent question. His tear-filled eyes barely met mine but when they did, he gave in. The cream in the jar was a soft white color and it tingled on my fingertips. Carefully, I smeared it over the Mark, gauging Draco’s reaction. He was stoic. The redness around the Mark began to fade and it seemed that the mark itself began to fade into the skin.

Setting the jar on the bedside table, I stood.

“Do... do you want me to stay?” The words were unsure from my mouth. I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, and I didn’t know what to do.

“Sunshine,” Was all he got out.

I nodded, understanding, thinking to the night in early summer. Burrowed in his arms, we both clung to one another, saying nothing, but meaning everything. This was what we had been waiting for. And now it was here.

“We... He’s... He’s in my head,” Draco rasped out. “I can hear him... he... fuck, Y/n, he... he wants me to kill Dumbledore,” He voice broke. “That’s my task, that’s...”

Impossible, I wanted to finish, but I didn’t.

 ...........................

Our O.W.L. results came in and I couldn’t find a smile to give when I saw that we both passed with the highest marks. Jobs after Hogwarts seemed so impossible. Almost trivial.

Draco and I did sit and talk about his trial.

“Is there a way to get someone else into Hogwarts to do it?” I looked up from a book of cursed objects. “I’m sure Bellatrix would love to do it...”

“It has to be me,” He snapped and rubbed his face. “But we are going to need a distraction so that we can... I can do it.”

I took his hand and laid my head on his shoulder. We both agreed only spending one hour a day on plans for his trial. The rest of the time we desperately tried to escape it all. We spent quite a bit of time in Paris. Draco took me to the Louvre, and we walked along the Seine.

Abby and Pansy noticed immediately the deep bruise like shadows that lingered under our eyes from sleepless nights when they arrived to spend an afternoon with us. They never asked, but I could see the glances exchanged between them.

Abby pulled me aside one day and finally asked.

“It’s not my secret Abby,” I whispered softly. “I just... I really need you to remind me it’s okay, because I need to do that for Draco and I’m slipping Abby,” Tears stung my eyes.

Gathered into her arms, I broke down into tears again, gripping at her shirt.

“I... I was there... The Dark Lord... he... I watched my dad die Abby... He made me...” I sobbed out. “It’s all I see when I close my eyes,”

She stiffened, not saying anything. Stroking my hair softly, she just held me. Some part of me wished that it was my mother that was holding me and telling me it was alright, but I knew that it never could be.

“We’re gonna kill this son of a bitch, you hear me?” Abby took my shoulders. “We’re going to make sure that he pays for what he’s done. If that means getting along with Potter, then so be it, but we’re going to make him pay,”

I nodded and wiped away my tears, smiling for the first time in maybe a week.

____________________________

Your legs were draped across his lap as you read to him. Maybe it was stupid, but you were reading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe again, and despite it all, it comforted him.

“I wish there was a wardrobe that could just transport the others into Hogwarts. It would make our distraction a lot easier.” You paused reading, thinking aloud.

He frowned, and something sounded familiar in your words. He gently set your legs in front of you and stood, his fingers trailing the spines of book that surrounded the two of you.

“Dray?” You stood, you hand resting on his shoulder.

“I knew there was something familiar about that book,” He murmured, selecting an ancient book from the shelf, scanning the index then flipping to the proper page. “Here, vanishing cabinets. They were common in the first Wizarding War... they created a passage between two cabinets.”

You took the book from his hands and your hour had begun.

“There’s one at Hogwarts, I... I remember George saying something about it...” You murmured, scribbling in your notebook.

“Weasley?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

You nodded and looked up. “If we could only find it... and another on the outside.” 

“The Room of Requirement?” He pondered. “If it were anywhere...”

“It would be there.” A smile reached your lips and his.

Maybe this wasn’t completely hopeless.

“We can check Borgin and Burke’s,” His mother suggested after your epiphany was shared. “They have a lot of old artifacts and relics. We can go tomorrow. Draco needs to be fitted for new robes anyway, and your book lists have come in,”

You two nodded, his hand in yours.

The next day the three of you headed to Diagon Alley. It was one of the first times that you had been on his arm in the Wizarding World looking like a Malfoy, and he couldn’t help but smile at how effortless and beautiful you made it seem.

While being fitted for his new robes, Draco was becoming very irritated and he looked to you for constant comfort because he was breaking down inside. There was so much fear that someone would accuse him of being a Death Eater, that he would be taken to Azkaban, that he would be torn from you.

“Bloody hell, doesn’t he have a life?” You muttered, your eyes drawing his to a boy with messy black hair and piercing green eyes.

Both Ron and Harry stood with their wands drawn, and Draco took a small step in front of you, glaring the golden boy down, sneering.

“Now I don’t want wands drawn in my shop,” Madam Malkin scolded. His mother stood, standing between him and the trio.

“Put those away,” she said coldly to Harry and Ron. “If you attack my son or Miss Y/n again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do.”

“Really?” said Harry, taking a step forward. “Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?”

Draco had to stop a smile from curling onto his face. If only Harry knew exactly who he was dealing with now.

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart. “Really, you shouldn’t accuse—dangerous thing to say—wands away, please!”

But Harry didn’t lower his wand. Draco’s mother gave a twisted and cold smile.

“I see that being Dumbledore’s favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won’t always be there to protect you.” Not after Draco finished his trail.

Harry looked mockingly all around the shop. “Wow . . . look at that . . . he’s not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!”

Draco’s blood boiled and now you were standing, your wand out. His hand went out to stop you protectively as he glared Harry down.

“Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!” He snarled.

“It’s all right, Draco,” His mother pressed her lips into a tight line. “The boy is ignorant. We cannot blame him for that,”

Harry raised his wand higher. Draco clenched his fist, knowing that you were holding his wand at the moment. He wished that you would hand it over, but maybe, it was for the best that you didn’t.

“Get lost Harry,” Your voice came in strong and cold. “You’re not going to do anything, and we have better things to do than entertain your pettiness.”

“You’re worse than he is,” Harry spat. “What would Cedric say, if he knew?”

You went rigid under Draco’s touch. He growled at Potter and his friends. Granger was trying to pull Harry away, and Ron was dumbfounded, baffled that Harry would say something like that.

“It’s easy to love those who are good to you isn’t it?” You hissed. “But you will never understand unconditional love,”

Your hand intertwined with his as you turned your back on Harry and his friends and Draco could see your resolve crumbling. Harry had made a low blow by bringing up Cedric and Harry would pay for hurting you like that.

“Come,” His mother decided. “We’ll go elsewhere,”

Draco ignored the tittering from Madam Malkin as he pulled you close to his side and walked out of the shop with you, his mother not far behind. Immediately he pulled you into a tight embrace and your arms wrapped around him.

“I’m so sorry darling,” He whispered softly. “Harry will pay for that,” You nodded into his shoulder.

He stroked your cheek softly and you nuzzled into is touch a small smile touching your lips.

“It’s a shame,” You whispered. “You looked really handsome in those robes,”

He chuckled. “If she stuck me with another pin, I was going to lose it,” He admitted.

Walking along Diagon Alley, you waved at Hagrid, smiling. He seemed quite surprised to see you with Draco but offered a nod and hesitant smile.

“Mother,” Draco gave his mother a knowing look.

It was time for him to go into Borgin and Burke’s alone. You slipped him his wand back and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” You whispered. “Especially with Potter around,”

He nodded begrudgingly and took off towards Knockturn Alley. Fate seemed to be on his side when Borgin confirmed that he did have another Vanishing Cabinet in the shop. The only issue was that the one at Hogwarts was damaged by the information that Abby had given to you.

Borgin insisted that he see the cabinet, but Draco refused. It had to stay put for this to work.

“Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn’t guarantee anything.”

“No?” Draco mused, a menacing smile upon his face. “Perhaps this will make you more confident.”

He hated that it came to this, but he revealed his Dark Mark to the shop owner and watched the fear come into the eyes of Borgin. He rather that no one know of what had happened to him and loathed that it had to be a bargaining chip when he’d rather be rid of the wretched thing.

“Tell anyone,” Draco hissed, “and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He’s a family friend. He’ll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you’re giving the problem your full attention.”

It was another part of your plan. You said insurance would be important and Draco agreed. He knew Greyback would be the best insurance that anyone could offer.

“There will be no need for —”

“I’ll decide that,” He snapped. “Well, I’d better be off. And don’t forget to keep that one safe, I’ll need it.”

“Perhaps you’d like to take it now?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don’t sell it.”

“Of course, not . . . sir.” Borgin bowed to him, as he once did to his father and it twisted Draco’s insides so much that he barely was able to keep his charade up.

Draco quickly stalked out of Knockturn Alley and back into your arms. You looked to him, expectant and he nodded. Guilt tore through him as relief flooded your features. He hated doing this to you. Making you walk this dark path with him, but he had no idea how he would manage it without you.

That night he curled up on your chest and your hands absent-mindedly ran through his hair. You were humming some sort of lullaby that he couldn’t quite place, but it was a repetitive tune for you over the past few weeks—something that you were clinging to.

“My dad... he used to sing it, it’s muggle I think...” You explained when he asked. “And then my mother did... when I had nightmares.” Your face fell a bit. “You reminded me of it when you called me your sunshine,”

Sure enough, when he did draw the few lyrics you remembered from your lips, it was very fitting. Soon, the lullaby became a comfort for you both.

A ray of sunshine in the middle of darkness.

.

Chapter 7

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.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 ��@zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald@chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe@spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypottah@atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck@beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde@iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread@atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing@tulippings @thestressedprincess @sunflowerxsadnessw @caps-wilsonn @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake@fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @okaydraco@strawberriesonsummer @ughjjloveme @honeymarvel  @gaysludge@cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl@peters-legos @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo@wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox@slothgirl22 @peachesandpinks @riathearora @monimillion​

[pawprintsmoon]

You and me, Part III

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30337365/chapters/74893146#workskin

The proposal

After a shower and clean pajamas, Alex finished packing his suitcase, tucking the ring safely inside. The next morning, he was so focused on not losing it again that he ended up misplacing his coffee filled travel mug. He had put it down for one second, and suddenly it was nowhere to be seen. Henry found it in minutes and they left for the airport. Distracted beyond reason, Alex had to hop out of the car to race back inside to grab his wallet. Then he had to hop out of the car again to run inside and get his phone.

After speeding to the JFK airport, they crossed the Atlantic and spent one night in Kensington recovering from jet lag. They spent their first full day at a trans* equity conference. The English press greeted their visiting prince with union jacks and rainbows. Naturally, they responded with charming comments and smiling photos. Alex took the opportunity to livestream a message to his followers: ‘of course transgender high schoolers should be allowed on the sports team that aligns with their gender, and here’s why…’

Privately, in the car back to the palace, Henry expressed the opinion that public schools ought to have polo teams, because it’s a coed sport and ideal for nonbinary teens who don’t like to rock the boat. Alex responded with similar sentiments about quidditch. The rest of the drive they shared a familiar rant about how Harry Potter belongs to the fans (including the trans* fans) and not only to JKR.

That night, just past 2am, Alex turned over in bed to ask, “You awake?”

“Always.”

“Good. We’re going on a fieldtrip. Come on.” Alex pulled them both out of bed, and they got dressed, Alex swinging on his Gucci jacket. He would have worn a hoodie, the incognito uniform of the internationally recognizable, but tonight he didn’t want to hide himself. It was worth the risk. Besides, they didn’t really need to sneak around anymore, did they? Old habits.

He led them out of the palace, down Prince Consort Road. He stopped for a selfie with the sign, because he really had wanted to last time. A second selfie included them both, looking goofy and not caring. When they reached the back entrance of the Victoria and Albert Museum, they kissed lazily against the wall. Once Henry’s lips melted Alex’s nerves, he drew back to take the next step.

“Thing about dating the prince,” he said, holding up keys, “is that you can borrow pretty much anything he owns. And he can get the keys to anywhere if he asks nicely.”

“You’re a thief,” snarked Henry, walking through the door that Alex held open for him. “And a knave, and a scoundrel.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex gave the security guard a wad of cash. “Thanks, Gavin. It’ll be Renaissance City.”

They walked past sculptures, artifacts, and paintings, surrounded by the history that they were a part of. They got to the piazza, Henry’s sacred place. Just like last time, the first statue, Samson Slaying a Philistine took away what little breath Alex had, and he had to lean on Henry for support. Like windswept magnets, their lips met, for no reason at all.

Most of the time, Alex had a strong sense of Henry and himself being part of the current moment of history, changing the world in the here and now. But right then, time seemed to melt, and they were surrounded by historical sculptures telling timeless stories. Zephyr the Greek god of the west wind, Proserpina in the underworld, and Jason and his golden fleece. Archetypical and expansive.

And then there was Henry: the national gay landmark, prince charming, an obtuse fucking asshole. Hopefully his future husband. Sticking with his plan, he pulled away from Henry and got out his phone to open Spotify. Taking a deep breath, he pressed play. “Your Song” came from the tinny speakers.

“It’s a little bit funny, these feelings inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide.”

“Why am I getting deja vu?” Henry asked, as Alex wrapped his arms around Henry’s waist.

“No clue.”

They began to sway, slow and intimate, cheek to cheek. He recognized the swelling in his chest as the same ache he’d felt when Henry first played this song for him years ago in the music parlor. Back then, he’d been trying so hard to repress his love for Henry, gripping the settee and wondering how long they would fly across the world to touch each other without talking about it. Now they let love dance around them, unbridled and openly declared in front of the world.

Other memories stirred up unbidden. Henry ghosting him after their first kiss, leaving him out in the snow and questioning everything. And then again when Alex hinted at love, leaving him in the lake with his heart carved out. Twice is not a pattern though, is it. Ever since the last time they were in this museum together, Henry had given his entire self to Alex. He had decided to be with Alex for real that night. That had been when they decided to love each other on purpose.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words. How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world.”

For several beats of silence, he just looked at Henry. And Henry looked at him, and the museum disappeared. The whole world faded away except Henry and himself. It was now. He knelt down to one knee slowly, never losing eye contact. Henry’s loving smile showed no surprise as Alex spoke.

“Henry George Edward James Fox-Mounchristen-Windsor,” he said, making Henry roll his eyes. “I have a question to ask you. You see, my mom asked me, back in our early days, if I felt forever about you. I knew it then, and I know it now. I want to spend my life with you. So... ”

He paused, reached into his jacket, and pulled out the bedazzled box, rhinestones spelling out ‘love.’ Henry had probably guessed that it was never intended for June’s earrings, because he laughed like the box was an inside joke. Despite knowing what was coming, he inhaled audibly when Alex opened the box to reveal a simple silver ring.

“Will you marry me?”

Henry laughed again, a laugh like the birds of sunrise. “Yes, Alex. I will marry you.”

The prince reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather box, the same size as the one Alex held. Then, he knelt down on one knee as well, mirroring his fiancé. He opened it to reveal a thick antique gold ring inlaid with a gem that Alex couldn’t identify. Beautiful. “Alex Claremont-Diaz, will you spend forever with me as your partner, confidant, and best friend?”

“I,” Alex choked, “yeah, fuck, of course-”

Henry cut him off with a swift and passionate kiss, both of them on their knees, fumbling the engagement rings onto their fingers. Alex felt like the deceased king that had probably worn his engagement ring. They kissed until their knees grew sore, and they collapsed on the tile.

“How did you think to bring a ring and everything?”

“Believe it or not, I somehow predicted that you might do this,” Henry teased.

Their buzzing bodies urged them to get back to the palace, to Henry’s room, to the bed. So they pulled each other to their feet, both dizzy and desperate. Before leaving the piazza they held each other for just a little longer.

“I love you,” whispered Henry.

“Fuck, I know you do.” It’s an amazing thing, to know completely and utterly that somebody loves you. “I love you too.”

“I know.” Henry held him around the waist and their foreheads pressed together. “Hey, so, I know we’re going to have to have a big, gay, traditional, royal wedding and all that -”

“Which we’ll make fun!” Alex said, with the positivity of a camp counselor. The world could really benefit from a big, gay, royal wedding. “There will be so many rainbows, even only if the crowd brings them.”

“And we’ll definitely have an adequate number of champagne fountains.” Henry winked at him. “But you interrupted-”

“Sorry!”

“-me. I was saying that I know we’re doing the public wedding for the audience, and the press, but...” Suddenly Henry looked nervous. “Well, would you maybe want to…”

“Spit it out babe,” Alex kissed Henry lightly on the lips before pulling back to show that Henry had his entire attention. “I’m listening, for real.”

“Would you, would you maybe want to elope first?”

“I… um. Would we, you know, still do the royal wedding afterwards?” Alex asked. “Keep it a secret?”

“Well, yes.” The words tumbled out. “But it would be a secret that we’re keeping for ourselves. We wouldn’t be keeping a secret for an election, or family expectations, or our god damned publicists. It would be ours, and we would keep it because we want to.

“Because I want to keep you to myself, just a little bit.” Henry shrugged, sheepish. “You give so much of yourself to your country, to the world, and I love that about you, but I want this to be just us. I’d be open to inviting Bea, Pez, June, and Nora, and our parents too, if you want.”

“And honestly, I don’t really want there to be a minister or priest… maybe Pez could do it?” Henry continued. “It doesn’t even have to be legal, so people don’t find out. I don’t know, I just thought, it could be just us, making a promise. Not with the crown, not with the church, not with all your adoring fans. Just the people that really matter.”

“I…” A grin spread slowly across Alex’s face. “I love it. Yes. Hell yes. Where? Not Vegas. Paris?”

“Paris.” Relief sweetened Henry’s smile. “And I could play my vows for you on the piano, if you’d like.”

“Yes I’d like! We could do it on a sailboat with a captain! Can you bring a piano on a sailboat?” Henry shook his head and kissed Alex’s grin, nuzzling their noses together. Alex whispered, “Okay, I’ll slow down and we can figure it out together. You and me.”

“You and me.” They fell into each other, a blissful act of entropy, all lips and hands.

“Besides,” Alex said as they stopped to catch their breath. “Secrets can be kind of hot if I remember correctly.”

AN: So, I thought I'd end with the proposal, but I feel like there's maybe more here? Like, this scene was kinda building up to some 'just got engaged' smut, or it could go on to show their elopement. I'm feeling a tinsy bit uninspired for their vows though, so if any of y'all feel like writing those, I could insert to the rest of the marriage scene that could be fun. If anyone feels like doing the post-proposal smut (or the wedding night smut lol) lemme know! Otherwise, thank you for reading! Check out my other rwrb fics, if you feel like it :)

[shiro-naru]

Since all the Transphobic JKR shit is happening I thought I'd share this small drabble I wrote

Blaise touched their leather wristband anxiously. As they looked around all they could see was colour. There were so many people, some wearing little to no clothing, others wearing body suits made of a kaleidoscope of colour. They saw blue hair, green hair, pink hair, but what amazed them most was the faces of the people around them. Everyone was talking animatedly with each other, with so much love and happiness in their eyes, it made Blaise's breath catch in their throat.

Blaise looked down at their own clothing, a nice long dark grey skirt that had a side opening which showed that they were wearing boots with heels. It wasn't the most comfortable outfit to wear at Pride, but they had one chance to wear their clothing unashamedly and they were gonna take it, for Merlin's sake.

As they were contemplating whether to first get a drink or go look at the merchandise (they weren't leaving without at least a pin), Blaise heard an unmistakable ethereal voice beside them.

"Oh, Blaise, I didn't know you were attending this year's pride," she then seemed to take in Blaise's outfit and her smile became larger and softer. "I really like your skirt, it really suits you".

Luna was wearing a flower crown made from daisies, a thin dress that reached just under her knees with a flower pattern, and what seemed to once have been white converse but that now were a mix of different colours and drawings, as if a five year-old had been playing with them.

Still caught off guard, Blaise smiled at her with a small, tight smile. They could still remember the war when they saw people from Hogwarts. "This is actually the first time I come to one of these events. I can't really wear this around wizards."

Luna looked at them with a furrowed brow, and Blaise couldn't really say if they had seen that look on Luna before. "That is so stupid. It's not like wearing something or other changes anything. After everything that's happened, you'd think they wouldn't care". After a few seconds of silence she smiled softly again. "I'm actually with some other friends from Hogwarts. Why don't you join us?" Before Blaise could answer, she was already heading between the people, supposedly in the direction where her friends were.

Blaise couldn't actually remember the last time they had heard from Draco or Pansy. A year? A year and a half? It'd been three years since the war ended. Draco had moved to Muggle London, unable to take the judgment and insults everytime he left his home. Blaise had gone to Paris with their mother. Pansy, had supposedly stayed in Wizarding London. At first they'd exchanged letters, but as time passed they became scarce. Blaise had finally arrived to London three months ago. Before the pain in their chest got too much, Blaise decided to follow Luna. It was better than fumbling around Pride lost and alone. 

As soon as Blaise had caught up with Luna, she turned and smiled, as if she never had any doubt that they would be following. "What are your pronouns by the way? Mine are they-them."

That made Blaise stop suddenly. They had never told anyone about their pronouns, never said the words out loud. Luna was looking at them spectantly, as if she-they knew what was happening in their brain. "It's they-them too actually". There. They had said the words. A weight they didn't know they'd been holding suddenly disappeared, and they felt like they could breathe properly. Blaise's normally poised self couldn't control the joyful smile that appeared, against their will. "Are you non-binary too?" They tried to keep the excitement from their voice, but from the amused smile in Luna's face, they weren't very successful.

"I'm agender, actually. Gender feels like a big facade sometimes, and I can't say I understand it, so I just wear what I like and what feels good." 

Blaise looked at Luna, with their beautiful hair and dress.

"Can I ask why you wear a dress? I thought being agender you'd wear more androgynous clothing". At the look of confusion on Luna's face, Blaise felt themself blush. 

"Well, as I said, I wear what I like. I don't see how what I decide to wear is related to me feeling like any kind of gender. Also," their smile got bigger and more playful, "I'm not scared of nargles stealing my flower crown here." Blaise couldn't tell if Luna meant it as a joke or not. Their eyes were playful, but their tone was completely serious. Before Blaise could start asking the question, they heard a voice calling Luna. 

"Hey, where were you? We'd thought you'd gotten lost, and we were about to send someone to rescue you." Potter said with a smile on his face. He then seemed to take in that there was someone beside Luna, and that said person was Blaise Zabini. "Oh, Zabini. Didn't know you were... coming."

Blaise felt Potter's eyes go down his body, and when he took in Blaise's skirt his eyebrows lifted and his eyes got slightly bigger. If Blaise didn't know better, they would've thought a small smile curved the Saviour's mouth. Blaise felt extremely uncomfortable under his gaze. They rationally knew they wouldn't get any insults because of their clothing, being where they were, but it still made Blaise fidget under his gaze. "Yes, well..." They didn't know what to say to that, so Blaise decided to just look somewhere else. 

As Potter started talking to Luna about one thing or another, Blaise's gaze fell onto Potter's body. He was shirtless, showing beautiful tattoos over his chest and arms made up of colourful flowers. He was also wearing tight jeans ripped at the knees and old running shoes. As Blaise's eyes went back to Potter's chest, to the beautiful patterns and details, they noticed something they had never before. Under his nipples where to thin scars, unmistakable by their location. Blaise felt themself take in a breath, and Potter must have heard them for he looked at Blaise with a comprehending and slightly pained smile. "I got these somewhere around fifth year. Never been happier" 

Blaise didn't know what to say. How had they never noticed? "I... I don't really understand how... Did everyone know?" There were so many questions going around their mind, and Blaise didn't know what to ask, how to ask it. Before the war they probably wouldn't have had a problem with prying, but now... The war had left them quiet and introspective, moreso than before. 

"Mione and Ron knew. And most of the staff, and my roommates and quidditch team. I didn't really want the kids at Hogwarts to know. I already got shit in the Muggle world, and with all that pureblood bullcrap already going on at school..." Potter grimaced a bit, as if trying and failing to make a memory stay back. 

"I understand" was all that Blaise said. And they really meant it. And by the way Potter looked at them, and the small smile in his face, they thought he believed it. After a few seconds where Blaise felt emotion swelling in their chest, they coughed a bit, willing the fullness to disappear and tentatively asked "What are your preferred pronouns, by the way? Mine are they/them." Blaise could feel themself blushing, trying to remember how Luna had said that, and they tentatively looked at them for reassurance. Blaise wasn't expecting the pride in Luna's eyes, which made Blaise's cheeks heat further. When they looked at Potter once again, his face was nearly radient. 

"He/him. Thanks for asking." Potter replied. After that they looked at each other for a few seconds. Potter opened his mouth, as if to say something to Blaise, but before he could even utter a sound, a pair of pale arms hooked around Potter's neck. "Darling, I thought I'd lost you forever." 

That was the voice of his best friend, Draco Malfoy, always the dramatic. Blaise smiled at that, unable to hide their amusement. If the way Potter laughed and sent Blaise a look meant anything, he was probably thinking the same thing. Draco's hair was slightly shorter than Blaise remembered, his eyes were still the beautiful grey, made even more striking by the winged eyeliner adorning his eyes. All his face was accentuated by glitter: his cheekbones, eyebrows, chin; there was even some on his neck and chest. He was wearing a shirt that was cut at its centre, showing off most of his chest, the most tight fitted black jeans they had ever seen, and striking black stilletos. Blaise wasn't even sure of how he was walking in those. 

Just as Blaise was finishing taking their best friend in, Draco's eyes finally reached Blaise. "By the Merlin, what are you doing here Blaise?" Blaise would have been offended by the way Draco said that if it wasn't for the face-splitting grin on his face. They felt an immense relief at that, just realizing how scared they actually were of where the two of them were standing with each other. "And in a skirt. I always knew you'd look amazing. If only you'd agreed to try with me in third year," Draco tsked at that, acting as if he really had been offended. 

Blaise started laughing at that, both at the memory and the comment, making them realize how much they had missed him. As they laughed, Blaise realized they hadn't laughed like that in a very long time. Maybe since before the war started. Seeing the answering smiles in Draco's, Potter's and Luna's faces, they couldn't help but wonder if they all knew, and whether they would have been happier staying here, with the rest of people from Hogwarts. 

The four of them started talking, about everything and anything. Blaise mostly listened, and offered witty remarks when asked personally. They had missed this. It felt like getting part of the old them back. A better, kinder version of themself, but the lifeliness they had lost at the war was slowly creeping out. Draco seemed to notice this too, for he was looking at Blaise with such emotion that they themself thought they soon might start spilling a tear or two. 

"Hey, dickhead," a familiar voice stole them away from their reverie, and as they turned they saw no other than Pansy Parkinson. The day really couldn't get better. "You  can't ask us to help you find a drink and then suddenly leave us, claiming that your dork boyfriend needs you. That's just rude," she finally stated, adding a vulgar gesture to add to the effect. Draco just pulled out his tongue as a response. Everything was so familiar and at the same time so much better and brighter than ever, that Blaise couldn't help the laughter that sprung out of them. Pansy's eyes then took Blaise in, finally noticing an extra presence. "Blaise..." 

Pansy only said that, looking at them as if seeing a ghost. "Hey, Pansy. How have you been doing?" Blaise added with a nod of their head. They weren't sure what else to say. What else was allowed. Had something broken over the months -years- they hadn't spoken? But before they could go down that rabbit hole any further, Pansy's arms circled their neck. She was wearing a black see through dress, that reached up to her knees, underneath a black bralette, and what seemed to be high waisted black panties. She was also wearing her signature black military boots. 

"I missed you, you doofus. I'm sorry I didn't answer your last letter. Everything was so fragile, I just..." She whispered that right into their ear, so no one else heard her. Blaise squeezed her back in response, assuring her that everything was alright. They all had gone to dark places after the war. Blaise had always been closer to Pansy than even Draco during their time at Hogwarts, and they had missed her more than anyone else. 

They separated from their embrace, though Pansy still stayed close to Blaise, making sure to brush her hand against theirs, as if making sure Blaise was really there. It was then that Blaise realized that there was a shorter person behind Pansy, and for a few seconds they didn't recognize her. "Granger? I nearly didn't recognize you." Instead of wearing her head completely free and unruly, she had combed her incredibly dark, curly hair into two buns on either side of her head. She had painted a gay flag on her right cheek, and a lesbian one on her left one. Granger was wearing high-waisted shorts and a maroon sleeveless shirt. Over her shoulders was a lesbian flag flowing behind her, making her look like a superhero. Blaise smiled at that, it really suited her. Blaise then took at Pansy's hand holding Granger's, and the bisexual flag painted over Pansy's right cheek. "How did that happen? And when?" Blaise pointed accusingly at their joined hands. 

Pansy just gave them a leering grin in response. "A lot of things happen in three years. I met her in the ministry, and couldn't make her stay away". 

At that Granger smacked Pansy's arm (pretty hard) and ignored Pansy's yelp of pain. "If I remember correctly," Granger cleared up, "it was you who spent nearly three weeks asking me for drinks and sending me flowers to my office. I just accepted to take you out of your misery." At Pansy's offended expression, Granger got on tiptoes of her high boots and pecked her. Pansy grumbled something in response, but seemed to accept the peace offering. 

"I'm offended I didn't get any kind of surprise from you, Blaise, when you saw me and Harry," Draco piped in while pointing at Blaise with one slender finger and pouting his mouth. Blaise lifted one eyebrow, making Draco blush. 

"Draco, you've been in love with Potter since first year. If you wanted me surprised you should be hugging Weasley." Blaise answered, making Potter blush and Luna, Granger, and Pansy start laughing. 

"Harry was no better," Granger confided with a knowing grin -God, Pansy and Granger were alike- "you should have seen him during Sixth year, always following Draco around." This made Potter blush, and Draco give his boyfriend a loud kiss on the cheek. "Also," Granger added looking at Blaise, "Weasley would never have accepted, sorry to disappoint." Her stare was so intense, that Blaise felt suddenly very queasy. 

"Where is Weasley by the way?" Blaise asked, trying to make Granger stop looking at them so intently. 

"Oh, he's with my partners." Luna said with a big smile, as if the mere mention of their partners made them incredibly happy. "That is, Ginny and Neville." 

This made Blaise stop suddenly. The three together? They had heard of polyamory (they lived in Paris) but had never thought any of their school friends would be in one. Though it shouldn't be that surprising, Blaise thought as they scanned the rest of the group, as they all seemed to be queer. The thought made Blaise smile, thinking about how much fun it would have been to know all of this during Hogwarts, or how dangerous, an unhelpful voice supplied. 

It was then that said three arrived to the group, Ginny eating what seemed to be a strawberry ice cream. She was wearing Levi overalls, with a yellow shirt underneath, and red converse. Neville, which seemed to have recovered some weight and looked much healthier (he had lost quite some weight during those last years at school and during the war, making him look sick and pale),was wearing a short sleeved purple shirt and black trousers. Then Blaise's eyes finally found Ron, who was wearing a similar flower crown to Luna's but made of violets. He was wearing a white sleeveless shirt with a print of flowers of different colors, fitted jeans, and brown boots. He would have seemed pretty common if he wasn't wearing the flower crown, and glitter on his cheeks. He was laughing at something Ginny was telling him, which made his blue eyes squint with glee. And then the blue eyes caught Blaise's, widening, which made the other two notice them as well. Ginny was the only one who addressed them, "Blaise Zabini. Who would have thought?" She said while laughing, and gesticulating with her arms, making Neville swiftly take the ice cream before anything bad happened. Obviously she was already ahead of the rest in the drinking department. Though Blaise was relieved, this was a much better reaction than they had expected. 

Blaise waved at the three of them as they finally got to the group, the rest adjusting the circle they had made to accommodate the group. Ginny gave Luna a bone-crushing hug, which made Luna laugh giddily. Neville kissed the edge of Luna's forehead. It was that moment that Granger decided to address the group: "Okay. So now that we're all finally here," she said that giving the last to come a pointed look, "we could re-introduce ourselves. Name, pronouns, and any other info we'd like to add." She paused at that, waiting for someone to start. 

She didn't wait long as Pancy started: "Pansy Parkinson, she/her. Bisexual a-f, and dating the most amazing woman ever." She gave Granger a kiss on the cheek, and Granger just answered with a loving look. 

"Hermione Granger, and everyone here can call me Hermione, or Mione," she said that looking at Blaise with a soft smile. Blaise really appreciated that from Gran- Hermione, given their pasts. "My pronouns are she/her and if you couldn't tell from my flag, I'm a flaming homosexual, as Draco would put it. And I'm the amazing women Pansy is dating," she said with a snicker, making Blaise and everyone except Pansy snort. Though Pansy was giving her a wounded, which was obviously secretly amused, pout. 

"Well, since my dear Hermione took my phrase, I'll have to stick with being fabulously gay. And my name is Draco, pronouns are he/him." 

"Just Harry here" to which everyone, including Blaise themself, answered with an obvious "Hello Just-Harry". Harry gave everyone a withering look before continuing. "He/him, and also bi." 

"I'm Ron, he/him. And err," he paused, looking at Blaise as if not sure he could trust them wholly, which Blaise didn't judge him for. "I'm genderqueer, and I'm demisexual." 

"I'm Ginny, she/her, polyamorous, and pansexual." She said this while moving between Neville and Luna, putting an arm over both their shoulders, which proved to be hard as she was quite shorter than both of them. 

"Neville, he/him. Also polyamorous, in a queer platonic relationship with these two incredible people. I'm asexual, and bi-romantic."

"Im Luna Lovegood, they/them, and im agender, aromantic and asexual." At that Harry shouted between his hands 'Triple A!' making Luna laugh softly. 

It was finally Blaise's turn and everyone was looking at them. Blaise decided to be 100% honest; this is what they had been looking for, people with who they could be themself with. "Well, I'm Blaise Zabini, would also prefer Blaise. My pronouns are they/them, I'm non binary, and demiromantic and pansexual." There, it was all out in the open. The words before today they had said allowd only once in front of the mirror, about 6 months ago. 

"Well," Pansy cut the silence. "Now that all the mushiness is over -Ouch, I meant to say necessary and appreciated mushiness," she added at Hermione's elbow. "It's time to drink, dance and have fun!" They all agreed with her loudly, raising their glasses. Blaise hadn't noticed, everyone having one, and they suddenly felt slightly naked. "Hey. I'll go with you to get something to drink," Pansy offered Blaise. They smiled at her and thanked her. 

They walked together, the few first seconds in silence, and then the conversation started slowly. It was tentative at first, each asking what had they had done during the last years. Pansy had studied journalism and had done an internship in the Ministry for about a year, which was where she saw Hermione again. Pansy said that after all that happened with Rita Skeeter, all the misinformation and the lies, she had swore to make sure to dig into cases and give people the real information. Blaise remembered how angry she had been reading Rita Skeeter's articles during Hogwarts. Blaise told her they had started doing Magical Law, but it had soon bored them, and they decided to drop out. After that they did a course on fashion and design, and had worked with amazing people in Paris. They were now finishing that course in London, having asked for a transfer after their mother's death. After that, Pansy and Blaise started talking about all kinds of issues, they couldn't even remember what they talked about, and before they knew it, they were back at the circle, Blaise with a glass of rum-coke in their hand. 

They were all talking, and they wasted no time in including them in the conversation. After a while they were all dancing. Blaise danced with Pansy, and Draco the most, but had also danced with Hermione, Luna, and even Harry. Now Blaise was dancing with Ron, both of them jumping around, holding each other by the hands, while the music blasted though the speakers, two Drag Queens singing and dancing along on the stage.

Blaise couldn't remember the last time they had been so carefree and happy. If someone had told them during their Hogwarts years that they would be dancing with the golden trio, Blaise would have laughed at them. But now, they felt so much joy growing inside of them, and as they looked at what could soon become friends to them, and the people dancing, laughing, and kissing around them, they felt truly, and unapologetically PROUD. 

[nyxfury]

The Big Little Merman (Part 2: The Plan is Afoot)

Rated M for swearing

Pairing: Dramione Fandom: Harry Potter / Little Mermaid

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter or Little Mermaid(Disney) franchise. This is just fanfiction and completely demonetised. Thanks to JKR and Disney for the wonderful sandboxes to let our imaginations run wild. This is also not beta-d so apologies for any mistakes and errors. They are my own.

Summary: Draco Malfoy suddenly finds himself thrust as the leading man in the gender bended wizard play adaptation of a muggle story, The Little Mermaid. How did it come to be this way and who’s slated to play the female lead? (Hint: Hermione)

Link to A03

“Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter!!” fumed Hermione Granger with her shrillest impression of a banshee as she barrelled into the redheads’ office.

“I take it you received your letter.” nodded Ginny, keeping her gaze focused on the document she was working on. With a final flourish of dotting a few more i’s and t’s, she re-slotted her quill in its’ holder, steepled her fingers together and took her sweet time shifting her gaze slowly to look at Hermione. Her expression remained stoic but her eyes held a scheming twinkle. She gestured to the guest chair, inviting Hermione to take a seat. 

Huffing at the redheads’ calm composure, Hermione closed the office door and sat on the opposite chair out of spite. She liked to indulge in being petty when she was in a mood. And she was feeling particularly irritated with the redhead right now.

Ginny rolled her eyes, ignoring the childish behaviour. She was a mother after all and Hermione was acting like her 2 year old son on a tantrum.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hermione clipped, waving the letter in the air in annoyance. Her initial fury deflated a little, simmering into mild anger. She crossed her arms and levelled a glare at the redhead.

“Well, Hermione, I imagine it would’ve been self-explanatory really. You broached the idea, I floated it to my boss, the HR Department head. He loved it, being half-blood himself. And now we’re working on making it a reality.” Ginny explained patronisingly.

“You know what I’m asking Ginny. I suggested the play because I thought it would be a hilarious consequence for the losing team. I never imagined nor wanted to be part of it!” she protested, waving her hands in emphasis. “Now explain why I’m finding myself cast as one of the leading characters and playing opposite Malfoy as his romantic interest!”

“Ah and therein lies your answer.” sing-songed Ginny, suggestively raising her eyebrows up and down.

“Ginny!”, Hermione spouted indignantly.

“Hermione!” mocked Ginny. 

“When will you finally admit that you find the man devastatingly attractive?” the redhead asked, leaning back in her chair and staring pointedly at her friend. She had a suspicion that her friend was carrying a torch for the blond scion. She’s never confronted Hermione about it until she felt sure that it was reciprocated. After observing both of them dance around each other for months, she’s grown impatient that neither was doing anything to pursue the mutual attraction.

Clarity dawned on the brightest witch of their age as she realized Ginny’s true motives. “Ginevra, if this is in any way related to you insisting on dolling me up for the pick up match, or that time you insisted I wear…I swear to Merlin that..that…” she fumbled, suddenly feeling flustered. Her lower abdomen felt like it was tying itself in endless knots. “Argh! Self care my arse.” she uncharacteristically exclaimed in frustration, throwing her arms in the air as she stood and walked towards the only window in the small office. She was feeling a little betrayed. Hermione Granger did not often feel backed into a corner. So she settled on some distance as she contemplated on the newfound perspective, completely missing Ginny’s small triumphant smile.

Finally, progress! A semblance of acknowledgement. Ginny happily sighed, patiently waiting for Hermione to process her emotions.

“I didn’t ask you to play matchmaker.” Hermione declared indignantly after a few beats of silence. The urge to escape the anxiety inducing conversation felt strong and she was on the verge of bolting.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t live vicariously through you and appreciate fine wine.” Ginny quipped.

Hermione stared at her friend. “You’re married.”

“Yes and a few years in matrimony can make life predictable.” Ginny waved her hand dismissively. “So you’re not denying it.” she stated more as a fact than a question.

“If you’ve come to that conclusion then my struggle to understand what this is must’ve been terribly obvious.” she sighed, shoulders slumped as she found her way back to her chair.

“But the self care campaign, Ginny? Really?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“It killed two birds with one stone.” the redhead shrugged, looking smug and unrepentant.

“To be perfectly candid, I don’t know what this is I have with Malfoy. Or that if there even is anything at all.” the brunette confessed. “There’s just been so much going on. He just broke off a long engagement for Merlin’s sake!“ 

“Hermione,” Ginny paused dramatically, “you’re probably the only person in this Universe who considers a year and a half as something recent.” Ginny pointed out. “Also, no one would’ve judge either of you if you started dating right after his engagement dissolved. In fact, half the Wizarding World assumed you’d be married with Malfoy’s babies by now!” the redhead exclaimed.

Hermione responded with a pointed glare.

“Ok, maybe that was a gross exaggeration.” Ginny conceded.

Before the conversation could go on, they were suddenly interrupted by another person barrelling through Ginny’s office in exasperation.

“Ginny, what the hell!?” exclaimed one very flabbergasted husband, waving a missive similar to the one the brunette flourished earlier.

“Alright, I’ve had it with everyone storming into my office today. Have all of you left your manners at home and forgot to knock like a decent person?”, declared the redhead more to herself than anyone in particular.

“Let me guess, you’ve also been casted for the play.” the brunette addressed Harry, who was still standing in askance as the door behind him was left wide open.

Noticing a few onlookers gathering and remembering where they were, Harry closed the door so as not to attract more attention.

“Well, yes. But I don’t understand why since our team won the pick up match! Hermione was supposed to be the only addition outside the losing team.” he huffed.

“Harry James Potter, please tell me that you and your wife aren’t actively trying to meddle in my love life!”, Hermione demanded, arms akimbo.

The bespectacled Auror had the decency to look chagrined as he stared at Ginny, silently begging for rescue as he realized his Freudian slip. The redhead’s only response was a wide-eyed stare, non-verbally replying that he was on his own.

Then there was silence.

Hermione sighed resignedly, “At least tell me that your scheming hasn’t gone beyond you two.” 

The married couple’s silent debate with their staring told her more than enough than she needed to know.

“Oh Merlin, who else is in this ploy and why am I only finding out now?”

~o~ 

“Malfoy, drinks are on you since it’s technically your fault we’re in a pickle right now.” declared Ronald Weasley as he plopped himself on a seat and signalled for a server. 

Draco already expected as much since he initiated the invite. But the gangly redhead chose a table for a larger group than their current party so he felt the need to clarify, “Expecting more company, Weasley?”

“Yeah, I’ve invited Harry and Dean. Apparently, my sister’s gone mental and casted them in the play! They’re out for blood. We’re all on the same team now.” he casually replied after ordering a round for everyone.

Draco is unsurprised by the development. The production will be a charity event after all and it’s only logical to include the Boy Who Died Twice and Lived to ensure that the tickets will sell out. It would also follow that the last member of the Golden Trio be included to complete the ensemble and seal the deal with the sales. Thus, he finds himself curious if she’s been casted as well.

He sipped his firewhiskey, feeling the smooth satisfying warmth of the liquid spread through his system. 

Harry Potter and Dean Thomas arrived and settled themselves. Blaise immediately declared that Potter got what he deserved after being so smug earlier that day. Everyone, excluding Malfoy, went into a heated discussion about the ridiculous stipulations included in the production.

“How can they demand us to be fit and have defined abs to play shirtless Mermen!? I’m an Auror but pushing paper doesn’t require exercise!”, Seamus tearfully exclaimed as he nursed his pint in one hand and his slight but definitely there beer belly in the other.

“Hear hear!”, Thomas chimed in support as he raised his own pint.

The conversation remained rowdy in the background as Draco stayed silent and in deep contemplation. A few more sips of his drink and he felt confident that Granger’s been casted in the play. Slowly, he found his mood shifting from dread to anticipation for the coming weeks.

Blaise never missed a beat and was perceptive enough to notice that the blonde finally put two and two together. Deciding that it was the right moment to sow the seeds, he executed his play.

“Speaking of fit, I noticed that Granger’s been looking really fit recently. Doesn’t she Draco?” he asked the blonde point blank.

Unprepared to be addressed after staying silent for most of the night, Draco decided to just nod in agreement and completely missed Blaise signalling Weasley to take his cue. 

“That she does. I blame you for losing us the match Malfoy but I don’t blame you for getting distracted. She was especially lush during the pick up match.” Weasley unexpectedly mooned.

The blonde felt confused as he bluntly questioned, “Hasn’t that ship sailed years ago, Weasley?”

“It has. But I’ve been re-thinking our relationship recently. I feel like it may be time to try again.” the redhead wolfishly replied as he polished his drink and signalled for another.

Seamus patted Weasley on the back in solidarity as Harry declared his support for the redhead’s declaration; as did everyone else in the table save for the blonde.

Draco never wore his heart on his sleeve but he was unable to mask the brief flash of hostility that overtook his features before schooling it back to nonchalance. The sudden and intense protectiveness he felt over Granger after Weasley’s declaration startled him. In his distraction, he failed to notice the silent triumphant look everyone shared. 

Blaise silently praised himself for a job well done as he watched his friend internally brood.

[advancedscurvy]

except i would argue that JKR’s repulsive beliefs ARE inseparable from the cruelty and the more upsetting undertones of her writing. terf ideology isn’t her only problem, for the record— she’s a disgusting racist and antisemite, and terf ideology is firmly rooted in white supremacist, western ideas of gender roles. and this informs the harry potter series to a T.

le guin says it better than me, as she always does, but i’ll paraphrase. the harry potter series actively enforces the idea that might makes right, that overpowering enemies through strength makes one’s belief and ideology correct, that harry’s ultimate victory in the end is what he is due. nothing about the series challenges the status quo of the wizarding world, and nothing needs to be challenged. if it triumphs, ethically right or not, it is Good. this idea is a huge part of white supremacy and british imperialism— that things which can be overpowered, an empire is obligated to overpower, as a moral right.

that’s not the case in earthsea. in earthsea sparrowhawk loses his magic. in earthsea tenar can barely protect an abused little girl. in earthsea, arren fumbles at the gates to the underworld. but it doesn’t mean that they’re wrong. it’s fitting that the enemy in earthsea, if there is one, is typically those afraid of losing this power and might, who believe that it gives them a moral ground to stand on or an obligation.

might doesn’t make right. not in reality. and not in earthsea. but in imperialist propaganda, TERF rhetoric, manifest destiny, colonialism, white supremacist ideology, antisemetism, and the Harry Potter series (and much of wider fantasy at large, for the record)— it does. it has to. how else are they vindicated?

Remember when Ursula K. Le Guin called JK Rowling a nasty basic bitch back in like, 2004? We should have listened

[vivithefolle]

it would’ve killed Ron’s humour that was according to her largely based on immaturity…well 

*looks at JKR*

*looks at Fred and George and their “U-No-Poo” they came up with at age 19*

Yeah… Ron’s not the biggest offender when it comes to that…

Yet Harry needed that, he needed Ron to be more cheerful than him in some way, and a teenager mourning their father who was murdered wouldn’t have been able to, at least not to the same extent 

Yeah, which is often why I find myself mocking fics that claim that Neville would replace Ron just fine - what about Harry’s surrogate family, is he supposed to get it from St Mungo’s mental ward? Neville himself is much more insecure than Ron as the books begin, he’s clearly not in the mood to joke around when he’s busy trying to scrape together good enough grades in Potions.

I’d say that what she meant about his humour is that Ron’s humour is based on an optimistic approach to life, much less intense than Harry’s or Hermione’s. 

Yeah, Ron tends to be more of an optimist (unless it’s about himself), while Harry is more of a pessimist and even at times borders on fatalistic. Hermione balances them by being a realist, but her anxiety prompts her to check and re-check everything just in case she’s overlooked anything. Which works great for her when it comes to exams, but in real life with unplanned bullshit constantly cropping up to throw wrenches in your carefully laid-out plans is a bit less effective.

I disagree with you on that - Ron after PoA is still Ron, a fantastic, wonderful Ron […] overall Ron is a beast and I live him.

Woah woah woah, never said I don’t love Ron after PoA, he’s still the only valid member of the Golden Trio to me. It’s just that post-PoA you can feel Rowling draining IQ points from him with every sentence so she can satisfy her “durrhurr boys b dumb!!” fantasy.

I love Ron. I love how he’s so afraid of hurting Lavender’s feelings he doesn’t dare break up with her, thinking that if she is the one breaking up it’ll hurt her less. I love how he fumbles and tries and does his best. I love how he will always return stronger, no matter what.

… I don’t love the narrative that constantly, constantly tries to downplay his feelings and push aside his sacrifices and contributions to pretend the other two’s were better, I don’t love the way the narration blatantly takes sides and wants us to side with Hermione EVEN AS SHE EFFING ABUSES HIM THROUGHOUT BOOK 6 AND GETS ZERO CONSEQUENCES FOR IT, I don’t love how still today that biased narration exists in the fandom, and is even validated by the books themselves.

The biggest validation of it, actually, is from HBP. When Draco confronts Dumbledore. You guys all know how much I love Draco.

Dumbledore: Draco, you’re not a killer. Katie Bell: *gets cursed by the necklace Draco wanted her to give to Dumbledore and almost hecking dies* Ron Weasley: *drinks the poisoned mead Draco had sent to Slughorn in the hopes he’d pass it on to Dumbledore and almost hecking dies* Harry, Slughorn: *had they sipped their drinks even a second earlier, they’d have had a seizure like Ron had and would have joined him on the floor and almost hecking died with him* Dumbledore: Like I said, Draco, you’re not a killer because you didn’t try to kill anyone JKR actually gives a shit about.

Now, of course, obviously, JKR gives a great amount of shit about Harry because according to her THE WHOLE EFFING WAR revolves around Harry. The books try to make token efforts to tell us how everyone is totally affected and it’s all so much bigger than just Harry and- ha ha actually no, we’re told about characters losing their parents or such but are we ever going to meet those characters and see them cope with the loss? No obviously because the only dead parents that matter are Harry’s, and they only matter because they’re the ones that fuel his Plot Armor Power. Nothing else happens in regards to the war obviously. Even when Ron is scared for his family in DH, no, obviously let’s not dig into that further because the only family that matters is Harry’s conveniently dead one, so let’s just add some stupid cringy dialogue to make it seem like Ron was only jealous of ~~Harry and Hermione together~~ and ha ha look girls how boys are so stupid and dumb, gotta whip them into shape with your fists so he knows his feelings don’t matter as much as yours (but only if you’re a Good Girl Like Hermione that reads and does her homework, if you’re a Girly Girl who likes make-up and pink nobody cares about your feelings because you’re just an airheaded bimbo).

Yeah… all in all… well, all in all, JKR sucks, but we already knew that didn’t we?

I think Rowling should stick to her original plan of killing Authur in ootp. Although it's cruel, it's a wonderful opportunity to give Ron(as well as Ginny and others) a deep and meaningful character arc. I personally headcanon that Luna would comfort him as she did to Harry, and maybe they would date? Sadly,his author couldn't give that without him being the one to screw up(though i think he has a point, the narrative makes it seems that it's solely his fault). Are there any fanfics about that?

Honestly I don't think killing Arthur would make anything "deep and meaningful". It would be a one-in-a-million example of a man being fridged instead of a woman, but eh...

Rowling has quite a weird view of what helps a teenager (or rather, on what should Ron experience in order to) mature. Either you kill one of their loved ones, or you give them a cringe romance, no in-between. What the fuck. As if there weren't already plenty of opportunities in canon. Ron being prefect? That could be used to have him grow and take on more responsibilities, and learning to balance his more hands-off approach with putting his foot down when he needs to (... even though he already had that back in the first three books but I guess all boys become dummy-dumdumbs with puberty, thanks Joanne!).

How would Arthur's death give meaning to anything? It would just be a gut punch, and yeah, Ron and Ginny would want to avenge their father, yadda yadda, but it's not adding anything meaningful or deep. Ron and Ginny already have a personal reason to want Voldy gone: "the Dark Lord wants to kill my best friend personally and is planning on genociding people", that's pretty good incentive.

Aaaanyway you asked for fanfic recs... well I don't really have any with this particular scenario, but there is one where Arthur's actions have disastrous consequences on the rest of his family: Percy Take The Wheel