#not to mention they would dorm with Draco think carefully of what that means in book 6

[oxydiane]

i’m gonna need somebody to make a complete rewrite of the harry potter books in which everything is the same except harry gets sorted into slytherin because the thought of chamber of secrets with this What If is making my brain do cartwheels. harry was already concerned about being slytherin’s heir as a gryffindor IMAGINE if he was a slytherin… also hermione would obviously be sorted into gryffindor since G comes before P but you know what doesn’t come before P? W. would ron still be sorted into gryffindor? the new boy he just met who offered him candy and stood up for him when they don’t even know each other that well, who coincidentally also happens to be the Boy-Who-Lived, just got sorted into a house who is renowned for having produced dark wizards Especially the dark wizard who had tried to kill harry… im not saying anything mmmm

[lottiebagley]

blink twice- draco malfoy

There's more to be said in the silence Fill in the blanks you left There's way more quiet in a siren I hear what's in your head

She lets out a sigh as she sinks into the open chair next to her close friend and opposite her best friend

"Still no Draco?" Daphne questions, a gentle smile on her face and pity practically radiating off her.

"Nope. Apparently he's not hungry. I offered to skip on dinner and do something but he might as well have shoved me out of the room," The girl sighs, staring at the food in front of her. Her appetite gone as her stomach turns with worry about her boyfriend.

"He'll come around. It's been a hard couple months for him, with everything going on with his father I mean," Pansy reasons, watching as her friend shoves her food around her plate without eating any.

"I know that," Her friend sighs defeatedly, "We've been together for three years. I know it's hard right now and he has no clue how to healthily process emotions it's just hard. I mean he's cold and he's harsh at times but he's never shut me out like this. We've been back at school for almost a month and he barely even looks at me,"

"It'll sort itself out, let him have his space," Pansy smiles gently

"Okay, no. Pans is wrong. If Draco is not treating you right then you shouldn't just roll over and let him be a prick," Daphne disagrees. Unlike Pansy, who was close with both sides of the couple, she felt no need to try and mediate, she wanted the girl happy and if Draco wasn't adding value to her friend's life, Daphne was more than happy to point that out. Daphne was her best friend and her loyalty would always lay with her.

"I don't want to be a pushover but I can't get a minute alone with him to talk about anything,"

"If he can't spare you a minute of his time, dump him. You've had a boyfriend since third year, you are missing out on the array of men Hogwarts has to offer. If Draco doesn't appreciate you find someone else who will," Daphne shrugs

"I'm not breaking up with the love of my life because we are in one rough spot," The girl sighs, resting her head on Pansy's shoulder who reaches to give her knee a comforting squeeze

"I get that. I do. But he can't just treat you like this. You can't wait around forever for him to care about you again just because he has in the past. This is torturing you and you have to do what's best for you. Not what's best for him," Daphne rants

"He loves you more than anything. Just give him time," Pansy encourages. A plan formulating in her mind. She was aware of what was going on, their mothers were best friends and they grew up together. She knew he may not say it but he needed his girlfriend, he needed her love even when right now, he couldn't give her his.

We've been coming undone Holding onto a thread Learning to pick my battles Or I'll be the only one left

Pansy Parkinson storms into Draco's private dorm, he's sat crouched over his desk writing quickly, like he's in a rush to do something, what it is she dreads to think. His hair is dishevelled from running his hand through it and she notices immediately the framed photo on his desk has been carefully tucked away, only the frame poking out from the stack of papers he's placed on top of it.

It usually sits pride of places, an ornate silver frame with green emeralds. The picture is his favourite thing in the world. Better than photos from the yule ball or fancy dinners. They had been in the girls dorm with their friends, having a few drinks and Blaise had taken the picture.She's wearing his quidditch jersey and he's in a sweater. She's sat between his stretched out legs on her bed, leaning back into his chest and grinning at the camera, his head is leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder and her head is tilted to rest against it, he's smirking and she's laughing at whatever he just whispered to her.

"I'm busy darling," He mumbles, not bothering to turn around to see the girl behind him isn't his girlfriend.

"Not your darling," Pansy comments, kicking the door closed behind her and crossing her arms over her chest.

"If I'm too busy for my girlfriend, I'm definitely too busy for you Pans," Draco snaps, she thinks nothing of it, edging a little closer.

"Why'd you hide the picture?"

"It distracts me," He mutters

"Draco Malfoy, I have known you since we were babies, I know when you are lying. Now, as someone who knows you so well, I think you moved the picture because you are ashamed and you don't want a picture of her staring up at you when you work on whatever it is you're being forced to do,"

Pansy knew that Draco had been forced into taking the dark mark. She's heard Narcissa crying to her mother one night. He knew she knew although he never told her, never told anyone. He could tell from the way she squeezed him a little too tight at the train station, from the way she sprung to his defence when Daphne would mention how awfully he was treating his girlfriend.

"What does it matter why I moved a stupid picture Pansy?" Draco snaps, finally putting his quill down and turning to look at her.

"Because you're ashamed," Pansy comments

"Of course I am. I don't want this but I can't change it,"

"That's why you're pushing her away?" She questions, eyebrows raised

"I'm pushing her away because I don't want her mixed up in all this," He snaps

"You know that not talking to her isn't going to make people believe you never loved her. If someone is going to use her to get to you they won't care that in the last month you haven't been talking to her. So why torture yourselves?"

"I don't want her to know. I don't want her thinking I'm evil,"

"She would never. She loves you Draco and you'd be doing everyone a favour to accept her love. Including yourself," Pansy states simply. Draco sighs, he knows she is right.

She turns on her heel, walking towards the door, leaving Draco in his own company again but pauses before leaving. "You will loose her if you don't fix this," Pansy states before slipping out into the corridor.

Draco sighs, dropping his head in his hands. He knows he couldn't survive that.

I only know you're home when the door speaks Blink twice if you still love me I'll never know, unless you tell me Did you ever really love me?

It's two days later, a Friday night. Draco was frustrated, he felt like for every step forward he took he went back about 10. He was lonely and he was scared and he was angry. He missed her.

He longer for her, wanting to feel close to her. Wanting to have her in his arms, wanting her lips on his, wanting her hands in his hair. He needed her. He wanted to feel like everything was okay. Like she wasn't slipping through his fingers. Like this was all going to work out.

He thinks as he strides through the halls from the room of requirement, that this is the only option that makes sense. He wanted to feel close to her but he couldn't actually open up. Couldn't handle the look on her face.

He never knocks on her dormitory door, he didn't used to but after walking in on Daphne changing had forced the habit.

"Come in!" Her voice calls back. Draco notices immediately how exhausted she sounds. He wonders if over the past few weeks when she had been trying to talk to him and he had practically ignored her if she has sounded so tired. If he had just not noticed.

He pushes the door open, happy to see she's the only one in her dorm. Sat in his jumper cross legged on her bed, writing a letter to her mother. Although his heart sinks a little in his chest, she looks sad and she looks hurt and he knows it's him.

"Hey darling," He speaks smoothly, she looks up and despite it all a bright grin takes over her face. Her eyes shining.

She jumps up from the bed to enter his now open arms "Dray," She beams, allowing his arms to wrap around her waist and pull her to him, her arms looping around his neck and their lips meeting in a sweet kiss.

She goes to pull away but he pulls her tighter, turning his kiss heated in an instant and for a second she gives into it. Doesn't think about how badly he's been hurting her. Doesn't think about how they clearly need to be talking. All that matters his him, his lips that are now trailing down her neck, kissing and biting and sucking.

"Dray," She moans out, words failing her. He smirks against her neck, the feeling of her hands tugging at his hair enough to make him feel, for the first time in months, like everything is okay.

And it would have been, if his hands weren't tugging at the bottom of the jumper she's wearing. It's so unlike him. It's too quick.

"Draco, wait," She speaks quietly. He stops immediately. Too much respect for her to try and push anything on er even if they've done it a thousand times.

"What's wrong my love?" He questions, hand's coming up to cup her cheeks, thumb stroking over her cheekbone. Now he had allowed himself to touch her again he couldn't bring himself to stop. He smirks at the way she practically melts in his hands, unsure if it's the petname or the loving touches.

"I just- we haven't spoken in like a month," She admits

"We can talk later. Please. I just need you right now," He speaks in a low voice. Anyone else alive wouldn't have questioned him, but she can hear the lilt in his voice, sees how he doesn't look her in the eyes when he makes promises he knows he won't keep.

"You should go," She mutters, pulling himself away from his hold. Draco sighs, eyes scanning hers.

"Why?" He questions gently

"Draco, if you just want someone to have sex with and then leave. You just want to fuck someone and not talk to them you shouldn't be in a relationship," She speaks quietly, scared of what this meant.

"I don't want to have sex with anyone but you," He argues, anger pulsing in him. Not at her. At knowing she's right. He loves her too much to treat her like this.

"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep waiting for everything to be okay again when I don't even know what's wrong in the first place," Her eyes are tearing and a pit of dread fills Draco's stomach.

"What are you saying?" He asks lowly, begging himself to stay calm.

"I don't know. I love you Draco,"

"More than anything else," He whispers and she sighs

"You have to talk to me. Please, just talk to me?" She begs and Draco can feel it in the air. This is the moment.

"I can't," He admits, refusing to look at her.

"There's nothing you could say that would change how I feel about you,"

"Darling, I can't," He whispers, heart breaking at the small sob that escapes her mouth.

"I can't just be sex to you,"

"You're not," He's quick to argue

"I am. If you don't talk to me, if you ignore me, if you avoid me. If you only come to me when you're horny that's all I am,"

"So, this is it?" He questions, his own voice cracks a little and he bites his lip to keep from crying. She nods "No. If after three years you are going to break up with me, look me in the eyes and say it," He demands, tears dripping down his cheeks.

She looks up and he regrets asking her to. He hates the look of her damp cheeks and red eyes.

"I'm breaking up with you," She whispers. He nods, turning on his heel and leaving. His heart feels like it is breaking over and over again.

Always calling it the last time I been taking the train Avoiding all the street signs That lead me back to your name

He can't help himself from letting his eyes fall to her. Watching wherever she goes. It's potions class that hurts the most. Their not allowed to change tables so his spot next to her becomes a spot a few metres away, he takes Daphne's spot next to Blaise.

The group who used to always talk loudly are now reduced to hushed whispers. Even months after the breakup there's an uncomfortable tension over them.

He doesn't listen as Slughorn lectures the class about amortentia before setting them off to start the lesson. He already knows he will smell her but he has no idea if she will still smell him, he'd been seeing her around with his close friend Theo a lot, he'd been assured it meant nothing but that didn't stop to the raging jealousy in his blood when Theo replaced her tired and sad frown that seemed to always occupy her face to a light smile.

The group work in silence amongst the loud classroom for the most part,  Draco struggling to bite his tongue when Cormac McLaggen stops at the table to hit on the girl on his way to the supply cupboard. She hardly reacts and Draco can't gage if she wants someone to step in and he doesn't want to overstep, it's not his place anymore.

She was always good at potions and it doesn't surprise him when he sees she's finished. Blaise and Pansy are holding a conversation about the quidditch match at the weekend more to save from the awkward silence than because either of them actually care.  He listens as Daphne quietly encourages her to smell it. He notices as she seems to smile for a second, a small smile like she's at peace and it's the first time he's seen her smile like that in months. He watches though as her eyes blink closed and she lets out a breath, pulling her head back away and blinking rapidly like she's trying to cry.

He wants to go and hold her and tell her she's going to be okay but it's too little too late.

He watches as Daphne reaches to squeeze her hand, a sad and sympathetic smile sent in her direction.

When Slughorn calls him to the front he feels a pit of dread in his stomach, leaning over the potion to smell it and say what he smells. He thinks for a second about lying but Pansy who seems to be reading his mind shoots him a glare before nodding her head in the girls direction, he thinks for a second they almost look hopeful and so he's honest.

"Honey shampoo and caramel cupcakes and vanilla perfume," He answers honestly and for a second his heart soars at the smile that overtakes her features.

That is until Cormac McLaggen's loud snicker interrupts the room "Didn't they break up months ago?" He questions his friend.

Draco storms out of the room, not sure if he's more embarrassed or angry, but knowing that the pity aimed at him in Hermione Granger of all people's eyes is infuriating.

He misses the way she glares at Cormac and snaps at him"Just because no one will ever smell you doesn't mean you need to be an obnoxious prick,"

We've been coming undone We broke the last thread Learning to pick my battles Or I'll be the only one left

Draco blinks his eyes open groggily, his entire body stings and he feels drained. Immediately though he feels more at ease when he notices the smell of vanilla perfume lingering in the air.

"Thank Merlin you're awake. Bloody hell, you gave me a heart attack," She exclaims, she's sat in an arm chair by his bed and practically tackles him into a hug.

The hug hurts his achey body but he doesn't complain, having her back in his arms is worth it.

"What are you doing here?" He questions when she settles back into her chair, eyes focused on her as she looks around his dorm not wanting to look him in the eyes.

"Professor Snape told me what happened," She shrugs

"And you came?" He questions, shock written on his face

"Of course I did," She hums out, unable to stop herself from reaching out to brush the hair away from his eyes "You need to start sleeping more Dray, you look exhausted," She comments, pulling her hand away. She laughs a little when he grabs her hand and places it back in his hair but complies, running her hand gently through his hair.

"You need to start smiling more, you look like you're about to cry every time I see you," He says it in a teasing tone but she senses the hint of truth behind it.

"I promise to smile more when you start sleeping again," She agrees. He smiles gently, not having the heart to say he doesn't know how to fall asleep without her in his arms.

"So no hospital wing," He comments

"Professor Snape thought it best the entire situation was handled privately," She shrugs, he nods and she lets out a sigh.

"I should go," She admits "I mean we aren't together anymore and now I know you're alive and all," She explains.

He nods, not knowing how to ask her to stay. She doesn't know if he wants her to.

"Look after yourself," She smiles softly before walking out of the dorm.

The second she leaves the room he feels tears in his eyes, rubbing harshly at his eyes to try and stop them. She sinks to the ground in the corridor outside his room, trying to silence her sobs as she wonders how to go on without him.

I only know you're home when the door speaks Blink twice if you still love me I'll never know unless you tell me Did you ever really love me?

"Why did you leave?" He question shocks him.

He had been sat in the otherwise empty common room, staring out of the window and trying to silence his thoughts. He hadn't even heard her come in but when he turns she's looking right at him. Standing only a few feet away.

"I still can't tell you," He admits

"That's not good enough. I love you. I dedicated myself to you and I don't want to stop doing that," She announces

"You should move on," He speaks in a montone, focused on keeping himself level. Trying not to let her know that right now he could scream.

"Bullshit,"

"What are you talking about?" He questions.

"I call bullshit. You don't get to tell me to move on when you haven't,"

"I have,"

"So why did you smell me in your amortentia?"

"I lied. I didn't want to admit who I really smelt so I lied," He speaks in a calm tone, rolling his eyes when she scoffs.

"And the other day? When I was in your dorm?"

"I'd been in a near death experience. I was just on some weird natural high," He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You don't get to do this! You don't get to treat me like shit! You don't get to avoid me! You don't get to make me break up with you! You don't get to lie to me! You don't get to reject my love! You don't get to make me love you only to treat me like this. I love you and I don't care about whatever secret you are keeping from me. But I need to know if it's worth it! I need to know that you love me back. That you have always loved me. That we are going to be okay. That we are going to be happy again. I need you to give me a sign either way! Fucking tell me! Merlin you can blink real hard right now if you still want me.But you need to  But do something because if you aren't going to come back to me I need to stop kidding myself and it will kill me but yo-"

Her rant is cut off and suddenly everything falls into place.

Draco kisses her hard. Kisses her with every bit of love he has in him, desperate to prove to her that this is what he wants. That he feels exactly the same way. His arms pull her closer than humanely possible and her fingers tangle in his hair. He smirks when she moans into his mouth, pulling away breathless.

Barely moving away, forehead resting on hers and desperate to stay close to her

"Clear enough sign?"

"I don't know. Maybe you should do it again, in case I missed it," She teases

"Trust me, I'll make sure you know how much I love you,"

Did you ever really love me?  Did you ever really love me?  Did you ever really love me?  Did you ever really love me?

**

Masterlist

[skiller0dani]

Alone Now | Draco Malfoy

M A S T E R L I S T Harry Potter Masterlist

angst requested requests info

Part 8/10 (Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 9)(Part 10) song

sorry it took so long lol get ready for tears. I’m not kidding this chapter is brutal. 

warning: this chapter contains themes of depression and a brief mention of suicide. 

You didn’t expect him to come by. That didn’t stop you from hoping he would. You always forget that you no longer mean anything to him. Harry came by everyday, any moment he could spend he was by your side- but Draco didn’t come by a single time. You don’t know why you assumed any different, this wasn’t your Draco, the Draco that cared. The aching you felt throughout your entire body was unbearable at times, but Harry was always there to help with anything you need. You couldn’t wait until you could leave the Hospital wing, it felt like you’d been in here for centuries when in reality it had only been a week and a half. You rested your head back against the pillow, listening to the quiet breathing of a second year boy who came in with a Quidditch injury. Every position you tried to sleep in was either uncomfortable or downright painful. Thanks to Madam Pomphrey, it was unlikely your scars would be really bad, only faint reminders of an event you would prefer to forget. 

You sat up slowly, a sharp pain going through your chest as you did, you can’t stay in here another second. You slowly push yourself up from bed, creeping towards the exit to the Hospital wing. Madam Pomphrey would be furious if she saw you out of bed. You slowly make your way to the nearest window, sitting down carefully on the windowsill, watching the stars twinkle outside. “What on Earth are you doing out of bed!” You hear a shrill voice exclaim, and you can’t help the smile as it crosses onto your face. 

“I’m fine Hermione.” 

“Your bandages are bloody.” You shrug as she sits down next to you, but when you look over you see a small smile on her face. An easy silence falls over you two, and it feels comforting to be with Hermione. You missed your best friend. 

“What’s wrong?” Hermione’s voice is concerned and you have no idea how Hermione knows something is bothering you, but she always does. You release a sigh before looking over at her, “I can’t stop thinking about Draco.” You admit, but when Hermione looks over you can tell she isn’t all that surprised. 

“Draco hasn’t said your name once since you’ve been attacked.” You feel your chest tighten, does he really not care at all? You’d foolishly hoped that maybe he cared at least a little bit. It turns out that he really didn’t care at all, just like you always feared. You felt tears stinging at the backs of your eyes but you kept your gaze pointed out the window so Hermione wouldn’t notice. “But he hasn’t really been himself.” She adds, noticing the tears streaking your face. You only find the strength to nod, and somehow the stars seemed to look dimmer than they did before. Learning that Draco was found with you at the scene of the attack, with gash wounds covering his chest only gave you more questions than answers. 

It wasn’t until 3 mornings later that Madam Pomphrey released you from the Hospital wing. You still ached a little, but your wounds were all fully healed. You didn’t see Draco, and it almost felt like he was avoiding you. You still loved him but you were starting to lose hope that you’d ever see your Draco again. 

You sat across from Harry at dinner, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off the empty spot next to Pansy. It’s where Draco normally sits. You nibbled on your bottom lip, wincing as you pushed up from the table. You turned for the exit after telling Harry you were going to the Library knowing that he wouldn’t let you leave if he really knew what you were doing. You turned and began the long trudge up the stairs until you reached the astronomy tower, and when your eyes landed on white blond hair you felt your chest tighten. You haven’t really seen him since you’ve been out of the Hospital wing. 

“Draco.” Your voice is weak and your vision is bleary with tears but you still see his shoulders stiffen at the sound of your voice. You take slow steps towards him but he swivels around before you can reach him. His eyes are glassy as he stares down at you, but the look on his face is practically emotionless. “You’re awake.” He says, his voice nonchalant as he cocks a brow. You blink the tears from your eyes as you look up at him, “you didn’t know?” He didn’t even check on you? Not once? You take a step away from him, watching as he shrugs. He really doesn’t care at all. “Why would I?” You feel like you can’t breathe as you stare up at him. The pain must be obvious on your face because Draco scoffs. 

“Did you forget that I removed all my memories of you? You expect me to be gentle and loving? You expect me to be the pathetic little Draco that took your virginity by the Black Lake?” He laughs but you practically feel the color draining from your face. Draco pauses, his eyes widening when he realizes the mistake he made. “How did you know that our first time was by the Lake?” Your voice was trembling as you desperately reached for the railing. 

“Crabbe told me-” 

“We didn’t tell anybody about that Draco, how did you know?” You yelled, your eyes welling with tears as your chest constricted. When Draco doesn’t say anything you release a sob. “Oh my god, this entire time you’ve-” You’re cut off by tears, there’s no way Draco could do this. He wouldn’t do this. “Have you remembered me this whole time? Did you ever lose your memories of me?” 

“Y/N I’m sorry-” 

You turned to lean against the railing, tears freely falling down your cheeks by now. “The only comfort I’ve had the last few weeks was knowing it wasn’t really you but it was. It was you the entire time, you made me bleed, let Crabbe and Goyle touch me you- I can’t believe you!” You cried through sobs, watching as a tear fell down Draco’s face. It felt like your heart had been smashed into a thousand pieces as you leaned against the railing. “Why would you do this- Dray why?” Your voice breaks at the end, and Draco squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I have to protect you-” You laugh bitterly. 

“Protect me from what? What could be worse than you?” You spit, and Draco flinches as soon as the words leave your lips. It feels like you’re dying, this feeling is worse than dying. Against everything it’s been you and Draco, against all the bad, the pain, through all of it you could always count on the fact that it’s been you and Draco. Now you couldn’t even look at him. All the pain and torment he’s put you through has been him all along. It’s been a choice he made, knowing that he loves you, knowing that it would hurt you. He did it anyway. 

“You wouldn’t understand baby I love you-” You turn away from him, the anger beginning to seep in. The pain is unbearable, it feels like you’re suffocating and that your lungs are screaming for air. “You don’t love me! You don’t love anyone or anything Draco Malfoy. You’re just like your Father!” You scream at him, a twinge of guilt flooding you once you see the look on his face. You know it’s hurting him but you continue anyway, “I hate you and I never want to see you again!” He flinches away, his eyes wide and it’s as though you’ve wounded him with your words. You begin stumbling towards the stairs of the astronomy tower, sobs wracking through your body as you reached out for the railing. You felt Draco’s palm curl around your wrist and in one swift motion you turn and bring your hand to his left cheek, slapping him hard. 

“Don’t touch me.” You cry, ripping your arm free from his gentle grasp. Draco stills, watching with haunted eyes as you turn and scramble down the stairs. He feels his legs giving out as he grasps onto the railing, he always knew this would happen. He knew this would happen once you learned the truth, but that doesn’t change the fact that his heart has just been ripped out of his chest. Draco feels numb and as he gazes over the railing of the astronomy tower the urge to just throw himself over the ledge becomes more and more tempting. But at least now he knows you’ll be safe, because you’ll be far from him. 

You limp into the common room, ignoring questioning looks from your friends and a million questions from Harry. You don’t feel like moving right now, you can’t believe Draco could ever be capable of something like this. At least not your Draco, but it is your Draco. It always has been, ever since the very beginning it’s been Draco. You just didn’t know this side of him existed at all, but like Voldemort the monster was hiding deep within. Your desire to see the good in everybody blinded you from seeing who he really was, blinded you from seeing that he was always meant to end up like this. Cold to love, with a Dark Mark writhing on his arm. You no longer knew if any of the moments you shared with him were real, or if they even meant anything. He said he loved you, and you believed him. Like a gullible child you believed him and because you did everybody you love could be in danger. You have no idea what Draco has been saying to Voldemort, what he’s told him about Harry. Draco used you. 

How pathetic. You actually believed Draco loved you! Why would he ever love you? He’s incapable of loving anyone. You collapse to the floor of the girls dorm in tears, because the worst part is that you still love him. You love him so much it’s hard to breathe, you don’t even know what living without him looks like. You trusted him, you had faith in him. You lean against your bed crying and you can’t stop, it feels like the entire world is falling down around you. This isn’t real, it can’t be real. You don’t want it to be real but it is, it’s real. 

Your body goes weak from the tears, and you’re helpless to do anything other than sit and cry. 

***

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[drarryruinedme7]

Two Thousand

I promised I’d write something for you all… and here it is! I love you, I’m so happy to share this fandom life with you, so I really hope you’ll like this!

Drarry | Word Count: 3,5k | Rating: Teens (mention of wanking) | Tags: Draco-centric, paper cranes, Pansy and Draco friendship, 8th year (with a great deal of years from 1 to 5 too), and they were roommates (in the end, like, really end, like the last 400 words), coming out, Lucius is a Fun Dad | Beta: the magical @fictional, tagging @shealwaysreads and @keyflight790 too :3

Two Thousand

It took Draco two thousand times.

He still remembered the first one. Eleven years old, Slytherin common room. It was the second day, but the hierarchy was already established. Draco was sitting on the big leather black armchair in front of the hearth, Goyle and Crabbe at his sides. Pansy sitting on the green velvety carpet, painting her nails.

Looking back at it, Draco laughed. They looked so presumptuous, so entitled. He really believed he was superior. What a big bag of bullshit.

So, that’s how they were positioned the first time. Draco huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, eyebrows drawn close. Pansy looked up at him, cocking her head. “What?”

Draco’s posture only stiffened more. He was so pissed. “It’s about…!” He uncrossed his arms, gesturing widely in the air as he spoke. “It’s about Potter! Stupid, famous, scarhead Potter! Did you see the way he turned me down? The impudence!”

Goyle and Crabbe nodded next to him, fueling Draco’s anger. He went on. “He doesn’t know who he got as an enemy! I’ll make him regret this!”

Pansy snorted, and Draco stopped to glare at her. She shook her head, amused. “Wow. Potter, again. It’s our second day of school and you’re still talking about that. You took it well, huh?”

“It’s just so unfair! That’s not how it was supposed to go!” Draco slumped against the back of the armchair, feeling a lump forming in his throat. He had thought of that moment for the entire summer, he always got what he wanted, that simply wasn’t how—

Pansy shook him out of his thoughts. “Aw, poor Draco. Look I’m sorry you’re grieving because the boy of your dreams didn’t shake your hand—”

“He’s not the boy of my dreams, Pansy!”

“— but there’s little you can do now. Now you’re enemies, right? So, stop talking about him. It’s getting boring,” Pansy concluded, taking up the nail polish and starting to put it on again.

Draco’s eyes widened. He gasped, outraged. “It’s not like he’s everything I talk about, you’re my friend and I need to talk about it, so—”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. She got up from the carpet, gesturing with her hands as to say she’d be back in a moment and disappearing into the girls’ dorms. She reemerged shortly after, a shit-eating smile on her face and a jar in her hands.

“I present to you, the Potter jar. Every time you talk about him, you’re gonna make a paper crane and put it in here.” She smiled satisfied. Draco looked at her as she’d just suggested going skiing on the frozen Black Lake.

“Are you mental? Why a paper crane? I’m not gonna do it!”

“Because you’re crap at origami and maybe after two times obliged to do it you will stop talking about Potter altogether, knackered from paper cuts.”

Someone, a stringy boy with brown hair and almost as pale skin as Draco’s, snickered next to them. Draco turned, scowling at him. “Got any problems?”

The boy shrugged. “Ah, I would never. I just find it funny. You do talk a lot about Harry Potter.”

“What’s your name?” Pansy asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Theodore Nott.”

Draco’s mouth formed a little ‘o’. He knew the boy’s father — Father used to mention him from time to time when talking about the War. From what he remembered, Nott’s family was pureblood from tradition. And surely he would have known everything about Draco too.

“Well, Nott, no one asked for your opinion,” Draco said. “And it’s not true I’m bad at origami! I’ll show you.” He grabbed his bag, fished out his notebook, tore a page apart and started folding it carefully, cursing under his breath at every wobbly line. Pansy laughed and snapped her fingers at Crabbe to make him move and sit next to Draco.

Ten or eleven paper cuts later, Draco clapped his hands, showing proudly his creation, and discovering annoyed that Pansy had started chatting with the Nott guy, Crabbe and Goyle had fallen asleep on the couch and another guy with thick curly hair and dark brown skin had joined them.

“Oh look, he’s done it,” the boy said. “Blaise Zabini, nice to meet you.” He stretched his hand towards Draco and Draco raised an eyebrow at it, his mind quickly scanning information. Zabini. Wasn’t he the kid with the Veela mother? That looked cool. Draco shook his hand and nodded to him.

Pansy took the paper crane and put it in the jar. “Good, Draco, it only took you four tentatives and several cuts.” They all laughed, waking up Crabbe and Goyle. Draco scowled at them, faking offence.

How dare they make fun of him when they had just met him? Besides, it didn’t mean anything. Of course he would have stopped talking about Potter — he wasn’t that important.

———

At the end of the year, Draco was packing his trunk, only distantly hearing Nott and Zabini’s voices in the background. He was still thinking about the rumors that spread like marmalade in the last few days.

“Do you believe it?” Draco asked as he locked the trunk. Crabbe and Goyle immediately turned to him, perplexed expressions on their faces.

Blaise and Theo’s were no exception. “Um, what are you talking about?”

“What the entire school is talking about! Potter and his duel with Quirrell, apparently—”

Blaise’s snort startled him, closely followed by Theo’s. He pointed to the Potter Jar and choked out between waves of laughter, “Paper crane, now!”

Draco stomped his foot, gasping. “Oh, c’mon! Don’t tell me you haven’t wondered about it either!”

“I did,” Crabbe said. Goyle nodded next to him. “Y-yeah, we did. We think it’s true. I mean, you’ve seen him in classes, he’s powerf—”

“Shut up!” Draco cried, already Accioing a piece of paper. “Okay, okay! I don’t— let’s not talk about it! I’ll make the damn crane.”

Theo and Blaise nodded to him, returning to whatever they were talking about. Draco finished his paper crane in mere seconds and put it in the jar, chewing on his bottom lip. Of course he became so good at origami: the jar was already filled with what Draco suspected were more than a hundred paper cranes.

———

“Did you hear him? That was Parseltongue!”

“Potter jar!” Pansy snickered. “Immediately.”

“Oh, c’mon! Parseltongue, Pans! How do you expect me not to talk about this?!”

“You always have an excuse, Draco. Jar. Now.” Blaise grabbed it and shoved it into Draco’s chest, rolling his eyes.

“There’s no space anymore.” Draco tried, as he was already folding the page into the familiar structure.

“Shrink them,” Theo replied, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading. “There’s no escaping it. Either you stop talking about him, or you make the crane. For as much as I care, you’ll end up filling the entire common room with origami, but you will make them. It’s principle.”

Draco huffed and put the crane in the jar, shrinking the ones already in it. They didn’t understand! Everyone was so fixated with Potter and his heroics, but Draco knew he was only a spoiled brat like anybody else, who bragged about his fame and acted as if the school was his. Draco knew it was just a matter of time before anyone realised it.

———

“Oh Merlin, did you hear it? It looks like Potter fainted on the train, can you belie—”

“Jar.” Pansy conjured it, shooing him away with the other hand. “I’m eating.”

“But! He fainted, Pansy!” Draco scrunched up his nose as he quickly folded a piece of paper into a small crane and pushed it into the jar.

“And you cried, jumping on my lap, hugging me. You’re even, happy?” Blaise smirked, finishing to butter up his bread and elbowing Theo who blinked at Draco.

Draco felt his face heating up. He muttered, “You’re supposed to be my friends…”

“That’s why we won’t tell him,” Blaise chimed in.

“Well, I bloody well hope not, you bastards!” Draco gritted out, pushing his plate away. He suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Ah, Blaise wasn’t talking about that. Everyone knows you cried anyway, you were so loud,” Theo added, lowering his voice.

Pansy choked on her piece of bread, eyes quickly filling up with tears while laughing. Draco pulled his tongue at her, narrowing his eyes at Theo. “And what, then?”

Theo, Blaise and Pansy exchanged a look, their lips quirking up in devilish smiles. “That you’re in love with him!” Blaise exclaimed as Theo tightened his lips probably trying to hold back his laughter.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Draco spluttered, heart hammering in his chest. Why, why the fuck was his heart racing like that at a stupid joke?

“Oh, c’mon Dray, we’re just kidding.” Pansy pushed the plate towards Draco again, her eyes softening. “Eat something.”

Draco stood up, so suddenly that all the Slytherins’ eyes turned to him at once. “Fuck you,” he managed to spit before speeding to the doors of the Great Hall, eyes stinging.

That was the start of everything. If he had only reached the sum of three hundreds of paper cranes until then, the number increased spirally from that moment on.

His friends were wrong. First of all, he wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be gay. He was a Malfoy, the only male heir, no way. And second, he hated Potter. And he intended to demonstrate it to his friends as much as he could.

“I’ll scare the shit out of him during Quidditch!”

“Jar!”

“I made these pins, do you like them? Ha, love him. As if!”

“Draco, you’re completely insane. We were kidding! And these are worth at least fifty paper cranes. Jar. Start working now!”

“Walk faster, I wanna see Potter drowning in the Black Lake.”

“Jar.”

“So, they say Potter successfully resisted the Imperius Curse, huh.”

“I’m not even saying it anymore.” Blaise Accioed the jar and gave it to Draco without saying a word. Draco took it and smiled. His plan was proceeding in the best way.

“I bet Potter will get lost in the labyrinth after barely ten minutes in.”

“Jar, jar, jaaaar! Now!”

Draco took the jar and spelled it to reveal the number of objects it contained. One thousand. He wiggled his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “See, Pansy, I told you. Not in love. Every single one of this is impregnated with hatred.”

Pansy cocked her head, exchanging a quick look with Blaise. “Sure, Draco.”

———

“Do you think it’s true? What Potter says… You-Know-Who’s come back?” Draco asked his father during dinner. The next day he’d be back at Hogwarts, and while he managed to not talk about it the entire summer, he couldn’t go back to school with the doubt in his mind.

Lucius slowly raised his head, fixing his arctic eyes on him. Draco gulped audibly, looking for his mother’s eyes. But Narcissa’s gaze was still trained on her dish.

“Draco, you disappoint me, as always. Who do you believe, Potter or the Ministry? You-Know-Who’s dead.”

Draco nodded, feeling his teeth hurt for how much he was clenching his jaws. He took a deep breath when Lucius spoke again. “And also. Jar.”

Draco’s eyes almost fell out of his head as he saw out of the corner of them Narcissa smiling at the plate. He abruptly turned his neck to his father, cracking, “W-what? I— what?”

Lucius conjured the Potter jar and pushed it to Draco. “Pansy gave it to me at the beginning of summer, telling me to check on you. I find it rather disgusting that you need a jar to restrain from talking about Potter, Draco. I should hope you have more self-control than this.”

Draco stared at him in disbelief, trying to decide if he was dreaming or if it was happening for real. Surely his father wouldn’t? But then he saw Lucius raising his eyebrows and stretching his lips in the closest depiction of a smile he’d ever seen him doing and Draco let himself breathe evenly.

“I can’t believe this,” he murmured, folding the napkin into a paper crane. “I’ll kill Pansy.”

———

“I love you, Pans,” Blaise snorted as he listened to Draco telling them about what had happened the previous day at dinner.

“Shut it! You’re an idiot. What were you thinking?!”

Pansy smiled, patting the seat free next to her for Draco. “Come here, git. Narcissa found it amusing. She actually told me you never stop babbling about Potter at home too. You’re so cute with your crush.”

“Again with this story! I don’t have a crush!” Draco cried, standing up. The Hogwarts Express came to a stop and Draco stormed out of their compartment, the others following him, still snickering or sending him fake kisses.

On the platform, they ran into Potter and his gang. He looked gloomy, Ron and Hermione a step behind him, bickering. Draco walked past him, bumping shoulders with him, spitting something mean. Potter shoved him back, and when their eyes met Draco saw almost tears in Potter’s, something dark veiling them. He shut up, speeding to surpass them.

“What was that?” Pansy asked once they were in the common room again.

“Potter looked sad,” Draco said, thinking. He didn’t even wait for them to remind him — he took a piece of paper and started folding his crane. He didn’t even care. He wanted to talk about it.

“Like, really sad.”

“So what?” Blaise intervened from his position on the carpet.

“So…” Draco started, short for words. So what, indeed. He shouldn’t care. Instead, he couldn’t forget Potter’s eyes, how it looked like he could explode any moment, like he could lose control of his life in a blink. Draco knew how that felt. He felt like that every time the thought of other blokes crossed his mind, and he couldn’t help but wank furiously, sighing all the wrong names.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried,” Theo piped in.

“Of course, I’m not.”

———

Draco wrenched his head away from the memories unfurling one after the other in front of his eyes. He knew what would come next. He couldn’t bear to look at his Sixth or Seventh Year memories.

Massaging his temples, Draco sat on the sofa again, the paper crane all crumpled in his hand. After his father ended up in Azkaban in Fifth Year the number of cranes in the jar increased a bit to rapidly decrease until it reached zero during Sixth and Seventh Year.

He was around one thousand and fifty when it happened. The truth was that those couple of years were the loneliest of Draco’s life. He isolated himself from his friends, from everyone, stopped talking about anything. But if he’d had to fold a crane for every time he thought about Potter during those two years — well, then Draco knew he would have reached an embarrassing amount of them.

Instead, when they started the Eighth Year, the jar was still stationary at one thousand and sixty-two. When McGonagall said they’d be all together in the same tower and when she then proceeded to list who they were roomed up with, Pansy agreed to stop with the Potter jar.

“Okay, I can see this would be pushing it too far. You’re roomed with him now, end of games. Enjoy your crush!”

Draco didn’t bother replying anymore. His feelings towards Potter were a complete mess by then.

He had spent a couple of years convinced he really despised him, to arrive in Sixth Year at craving him like he didn’t think it was ever possible. He dreamt of showing up to Potter, confessing to him he had taken the Dark Mark and begging him to take Draco with him, to protect him. He would have done anything. He would have even spied for him.

He dreamt of letting it go with him, finally. To cry and hug him, and ask for forgiveness and to receive it.

All his dreams broke when Potter cast the Sectumsempra. Draco stepped too far and he got to pay the consequences of it. But then during the War, Potter saved his life in the Room of Requirement and when asked to identify him, Draco refused. He couldn’t. He would never. Potter didn’t deserve to die, even Draco knew it.

Now his feelings were shifting from gratitude to something scary and too deep for Draco to grasp. Something that made him whimper during nights and shy away from every attempt Potter made to talk with him at days. He just couldn’t.

Couldn’t let himself believe he could be friends with him. Couldn’t let his feelings grow any more than this.

“I need to talk with you,” Draco said, torturing the paper crane in his hand, tears in his eyes.

Pansy took his face in her hands, placed a kiss on his cheek. “Sure, darling. Come in.”

Draco stepped into her room which she shared with Granger and Bulstrode and sat on Pansy’s bed.

“What is it? Do you want some water?”

Draco shook his head. “I think—” He started, then choked on his own saliva. He sniffed, cleared his throat. “I think I’m gay.”

Pansy’s lips trembled before she composed herself and sighed. She took his hands in hers. “Draco, darling. Why do you say so?”

“I just. No. I don’t think I’m gay. I know I am.” Saying it out loud for the first time felt like taking off tight shoes. It was freeing, it was amazing and terrifying at the same time.

Pansy smiled. It was warm, loving. “Oh, Draco.” She hugged him, clutching him tight against her chest, covering his head with kisses. “It’s okay,” she breathed into his hair. “It’s okay. You can do this. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Draco didn’t know he needed to hear those words until they rang with Pansy’s voice and he started sobbing on her neck. “This is a fucking disaster, Pansy. My father is already looking for a wife for me, and I’m, I’m—”

“Sssh. Stop it. We’ll make him understand. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.” She lulled him back and forth, whispering encouragements into his ear.

“I watched some memories,” Draco said after a while, voice grasping with cries. “I’m confused. I, Potter, he… shit, I like him.”

Pansy went still, her arms tightening around Draco. In a second he felt her shaking against him and he pulled out of her hug, looking at her indignantly. “You’re laughing! You’re laughing, you horrible human being!”

“I can’t believe you, Draco. I just—” A grunt escaped her while she tried to talk and laugh at the same time. “I knew it, oh Salazar. I fucking knew it.”

———

“I have something for you.”

Potter blinked at Draco, his face flushing prettily. “Err, excuse me?”

“I know,” Draco said, feeling his hands tremble and shoving them in his pockets to hide them. “I know I’ve been shitty to you.”

Potter raised a hand and Draco cut him off. “No, let me speak. You saved my life in the Room of Requirement. You spoke on my behalf at my mother and mine’s trials. You returned my wand. And I haven’t even said thanks. Or I’m sorry, for that matter. Well, I am. Sorry, I mean. And thank you. For everything.”

Potter looked at him with his head tilted, a smile trying to pull at his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. As in, I don’t need your apologies or your gratitude. I did what I felt was right. And, for my part, I don’t hold anything against you. I actually tried to talk to you these past months.”

Draco felt himself blush and damned his pale skin. “I know and I’m sorry. That’s why—”

“We could talk over a pint of butterbeer, then, maybe?” Potter’s voice was steady, his smile now open and confident. Draco found himself agreeing without even realising it, almost forgetting about what he wanted to give Potter in the first place.

Until later that night, when Potter’s breath ghosted over Draco’s cheek as he tipsily leaned over him at the pub, to whisper something to him. Draco felt his cock harden in his pants, the proximity almost unbearable. He needed a distraction, anything.

“Ah!” He exclaimed, making Potter jump in his seat. “I w-wanted to give you something, so, right, erm.” He fished out the crumpled crane and gave it to him.

Potter regarded it for a second, then shifted his gaze to Draco’s face. “Um, thank you?”

“Yeah, well. Right. That’s the two-thousandth crane I’ve made.”

“Congratulations, Malfoy, I didn’t know you had a passion for origami,” Potter said, looking suddenly sober and serious again.

“I don’t. I just… well, that’s for you.”

Potter smiled at him and placed a wet kiss on Draco’s face, murmuring against his cheek, “Your skin’s so soft.”

Draco smiled, his heart doing somersaults in his chest.

He’d tell it one day. He’d tell the story of the jar and how Draco discovered he was in love with Harry Potter.

Of how it took him two thousand paper cranes before he realised and never looked back again.

[breaniebree]

ASC Sneak Peek Chapter 165

“Why did you bring me here?”  Theo asked when Bill sat the tea in front of them.

“Why do you think I brought you here?”

Theo scowled into his drink.  “Because I’m missing classes and Ginny told you that I’m a mess.”

“You haven’t been paying attention in your classes as much as you should be, no,” Bill said, sipping his tea.  “But I didn’t come to see you to lecture you on your academics and Ginny didn’t have to tell me that you’re falling behind in your work.  I’ve seen you in the Wizengamot.  In the last session, you stared at your hands the entire time.  You don’t participate, you don’t listen, and you haven’t been there, not mentally.  We need you there, Theo.”

“What’s it to you?”

Bill taped his fingers on the table.  “You have people who care about you, Theo.”

Theo stared down into his drink.  “I’m fine.”

“From what I’m hearing from Ginny and Ron, you’re not.  From what I’m seeing with my own eyes, you’re not.  You’re hungover right now.  How much have you been drinking?”

“That’s none of your business.  I’m old enough to make my own choices.”

“Yes, you are,” Bill said, carefully.  “And smart enough to know when you’re making shitty ones.”

“You can’t tell me how to run my life,” Theo spat.  “I’m Lord Norfolk, I’m…”

“You’re what?”

Theo’s hands shook as he gripped the table.  “I’m completely worthless without my title.”

Bill stared at him.  “We both know that’s not true.  I don’t have a title, does that make me worthless?”

“No, it just… you’re a cursebreaker, you have things to… I have nothing.”

“You have a hell of a lot more than nothing.  Drinking to forget what you don’t have doesn’t help.”

“It helps me sleep.”

“If you need help sleeping, Madam Pomfrey can give you a dreamless sleep potion.”

“They make me groggy.”

“Well, I’d rather be groggy than hungover every bloody day,” Bill said.  “Ginny may have written to me about you, but only because she’s worried and others are too.  She says that you’ve been drinking a lot more than just to help you sleep.  Ron’s mentioned he and Harry have watched you get completely pissed more than once.”

“It helps me forget.”

“Theo, there are people who you can talk to, people who may be able to help —”

“—I don’t need help!”  Theo spat, bitterly.  “Finn is dead!  He was my future!”

Bill shook his head.  “No, he was part of your future.  He wasn’t your whole future, Theo.  Do you think that he would want you to act like this?  Do you think that he would want you to just give up on yourself?”

“I don’t know what he would want because Abraxas Malfoy bloody killed him!”

“You do know what he would want,” Bill said, quietly.  “Finn rescued you from Macmillan.  He loved you and I know that you loved him.  I know that you will always love him, but his death doesn’t mean that you have no future.  I’m not saying that you have to find love today or tomorrow, but one day you will love again.  You will find a bloke who you deserve.  But today you need to stop drinking.  You need to pull yourself together and you need to stop throwing yourself around like you don’t matter.  You matter, Theo.”

Theo’s eyes blurred with tears.  “I just want to feel something again.  I feel so empty inside, like my heart was blown to pieces and spread out by the wind along with the flowers he became.”

Bill reached across the table and took Theo’s hand in his.  “Part of it was, but not all of it.  You have a big heart, Theo, and it’s easily bruised because you wear it on your sleeve, but it will heal.  I promise.”

Theo nodded, blinking back his tears.  “Are you a big brother to everyone, then?”

Bill smiled.  “Only to those who need it.  I have a bit of practice.”

Theo’s lips curved before he took a long sip of his tea.  “You’re good at it.”

“Thanks.  Does that mean that you might actually listen?”

Theo sighed, his fingers running up and down the warmth of the cup.  “It’s not just Finn, Bill.  I miss Draco and Blaise.  I’m all alone in Slytherin and… I wish they were here.”

“It must be strange having the whole dorm to yourself.”

“The beds and desks disappeared as if they never were there and I just… it feels more empty that way.  I feel more alone.”

Bill nodded.  “I can imagine that it would feel that way.  But you’re not alone.  I don’t know where your friends are, but I do know that they’re safe.  If they were here, do you think that they’d be letting you act like this?  Do you think that they’d want you to throw yourself around to different blokes?  I’ve done it.  I’ve done my share of sleeping around.  It’s fun for a while, sure, but nothing feels more empty than just being a warm body for someone.  You know what love is and you know that sleeping around isn’t going to help you find it again.”

Theo tapped his fingers against his tea cup, his eyes on the tea leaves.  “I just want to feel something.”

“You will,” Bill promised.  “I know it’s not what you want to hear right now, but it takes time.  There will be other relationships, other men to strike your fancy.”

“I just want someone to hold me,” he whispered.

Bill smiled.  “We all do.  Ginny gives great hugs and she’s always around when you need her.  I’m here anytime you need me and so are my parents.  You have people who care about you.  You have people who want to help.  I promise you, you’re not alone.”

Theo’s bottom lip trembled before he drank deeply from his tea and for the first time since Finn died, he felt a little glimmer of hope.  His eyes met Bill’s as he spoke.  “Too bad you found someone.  I always told Ginny that I’d let you do me in a heartbeat.”

Bill chuckled.  “I’m flattered, but I’m very straight and madly in love with Fleur.”

“I know,” Theo said.  “I know how amazing that feels.  Treasure every moment with her.”

“I will,” Bill told him.  “And you?  Are you going to listen to what I said?  Maybe stop the drinking at least for a start?”

Theo finished off his tea before he nodded.  “I think I can do that.”

Bill nodded.  “Remember that you have people to talk to and if none of us are the right person, remember you also have Na’eemah.  Ginny said that you found her helpful after the whole Macmillian situation.  Reach out to her again.  She’s an incredible mind healer and I know that she would be more than willing to help you where you need it.”

“I don’t need a mind healer,” Theo said.

“It’s someone else to talk to if you need it, that’s all,” Bill said, kindly.  “Keep it in mind.”  At Theo’s nod, he stood up.  “I’m going to order us some lunch and then you’re going to tell me what you thought about the last Wizengamot meeting and the new security protocols.”

“I am?”

“You are,” Bill told him.  “The fae are very much on our side, Theo.  They want justice for their prince and are looking to help.  You know more than you think you do.  We’re going to talk about it.  We’re going to talk about what Finn told you and what the fae can do to help us.  I’ll even let you check out my arse while I walk away.”

Theo snorted and Bill winked at him as he headed to the bar.  Theo did check out his arse and his heart felt lighter.  Who knew that a simple chat with Bill Weasley could make him feel so much better?  Time would heal all wounds, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t heal bit by bit, hour by hour, and day by day.  Bill was right, it took time.

It was about time Theo gave it a chance to work.  One step at a time.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 135: Spinner's End

The whole room felt as large as Lily's entire house. She didn't even immediately see the other seven right away there was so much opulent space and grandeur to take in. The walls themselves seemed to ripple in an expansive opal dragon hide, the green snake banners hung all along the room wasn't exactly an identifying mark in her opinion, she would have one of each house in her room if she knew where to buy it, but she seemed to have landed right next to a cork board with scraps of papers and more importantly, photos that she would have to suss out as belonging to Draco Malfoy.

Lucius and Narcissa watching the five year old carefully but with pride as he laughed for the snow floating around him at some summer park in the heat, chasing ducks and occasionally stopping to lick an ice cream. One of him, Crabbe, and Goyle at sevenish playing some sort of game with apples, the little blonde's teeth oddly crooked, so she imagined it was some time at Halloween and done on purpose. He, Knott, and Blaise in their teens and in Quidditch robes throwing Quaffles around, he and Pansy in a booth at Madam Puddifoots.

Beneath all of these were dozens of rolls of parchment, some with the ink still wet of different music sheets with elaborate tunes and lyrics only half done in. She wasn't well versed enough to even guess at what instrument he could play, but judging by the few she spotted around the room that Frank was sheepishly repairing after crashing into them, the better question seemed what hadn't he been privileged in getting to learn at his leisure.

No one just looking at a glimpse of his obviously loved and carefree life would ever guess he was such an arse to her son, as well as Neville and likely many others. Her ears now rung with the foul word he so casually used that Severus now seemed to agree with.

There were a few daunting hints at such a thing, his picture of a very young Bellatrix Lestrange smiling as he prodded at the tattoo on her arm with childlike delight, he couldn't be more than two. The Sacred Twenty-Eight redone in his neat handwriting near the top corner with little scribbles and notes about each family.

Pettigrew was near the door trying to open it, to no success, the diamond handle in his palm glinting. Regulus Black was spinning a bust of a snake head with black stones in each eye that was likely a thousand galleons or some such, and cursed to boot, that Draco probably used as a paper weight. The lack of a house-elf hadn't much of an impact on their life it seemed, the wide open space felt empty to her in the organized place despite the many things available to look at. This boy had wanted for nothing, even a glance out the wide arched window showed glorious albino peacocks strutting along hedges and acres of pleasure beyond to explore, and yet he'd just as likely kill Hermione and her at the blink of an eye it seemed. He'd showed no remorse for his fathers actions trying to kill her son twice now.

Sirius Black had been offered the same and spurned it all away, Regulus had apparently started asking questions far too late for it to matter and died for it. Severus had been given nothing of the sort but turmoil, and he'd embraced the Death Eater lot, abandoning her and showing no clear signs of regretting it ever since.

She was sick of burying her head in the sand for his whys, it was time to start asking questions, but the problem was the one whom she still wanted to most was not available.

Alice was still crawling off the king sized bed, Potter was holding a signed Snitch with some look of awe on his face for whomever the signature was for, and there was a beautiful occamy skinned rug the length of the room Lupin was gazing sadly down at.

Sirius Black came stumbling out of a closet not too far behind her, enough she could peek inside and see the extravagant clothes inside that was more shaped to a normal bedroom, the teenager himself clutching his throat theatrically and miming gagging for all to see as he 'collapsed' to the ground still sputtering his disgust at getting a look at the underthings.

Regulus wasn't fighting off a laugh as he nudged his brother with his foot before promptly declaring him alive and walking off.

She watched the little one go with a heavy feeling of unease. He'd probably know Severus better than her at this rate, sharing a House and all. He didn't feel as unapproachable now after they'd spent some time together, but that didn't mean she wanted to walk over and just start talking about this.

She would though. She wasn't going to let awkwardness stop her now! She just decided to wait until a better opportunity as he instantly engaged with Pettigrew once more.

Alice had found the book somewhere in the gargantuan bed spread and was now finally plopped on the edge, reading Spinner's End with no idea why Lily would flinch so hard, but stopping all the same to look at her in concern when she noticed.

Frank stopped fidgeting with the instruments, ceasing the background noise and drawing all eyes to her.

She took a steady breath and squared her shoulders, may as well get out with it now. "That's Snape's address. I guess we get to find out what he's up to."

Potter's face was like stone, it was very obvious he hadn't believed a word of Dumbledore's explanation last year about none of the events being in some part Snape's fault, and she couldn't even blame him. She no more believed Severus had done all he could to help.

To her amazement though, he didn't start threatening to curse him, or much of anything. He just went over to the floor next to his best mate and sat beside him, prodding him in the ribs and teasing, "I'm not giving you a treat for playing dead."

"How else am I supposed to learn the good tricks from the bad ones?" He chuckled as he flopped onto his back.

Lupin went over with an indulgent smile for the pair, and the three stayed close to each other as the book started not with their school rival, but Sirius' would be murderer and her sister.

Sirius now looked murderous himself at the very mention of them, far more than ever before just the blood they shared could bring out. It was better than the nothingness he'd been trying so hard before, to pretend he cared nothing of it, but she also knew now it just wasn't in his nature to sit around when there was nothing to be done about them now.

He leapt to his feet with his usual energy and began sprinting around the youngest Malfoy's room, stopping every few feet to filch things into his pockets for no clear reason to her, or even his mates, though they watched in amusement for whatever he was doing.

He didn't stop when her prediction came true and the sisters were shown to be visiting Snape, though apparently it wasn't a mutual thing, Bellatrix was no happier to be around him than any of them right now, but it seemed Narcissa's idea and her elder sister was trying to stop her.

Sirius circled back to his friends and whispered something eagerly to them. Both looked a tad confused, but neither seemed to argue the point as he went back off towards where Peter and Regulus were.

He seemed to have minorly learned his lesson at least, performing a small miracle and not shouting his arrival but instead quivering in anticipation for the two to look at him before speaking. "Who wants to play a treasure hunt?"

"Why does your answer to everything involve some form of illicit activity?" Peter snickered. "This shit is not yours."

"And since when do we care about that?" He looked at him in concern. "Don't go soft on me now Wormy! Regulus can hide the stuff, Marauder swear I won't peek!" He handed all the items from his pocket to Regulus and mock whispered, "you can even stay here and keep an eye on me."

Pettigrew made a soft little noise that was maybe a laugh of annoyance, but Regulus took the stuff and wandered off at once when Peter Pettigrew of all people was apparently sharing a house space with Severus in the book, and all eight of them winced at that interaction! Sirius did have good timing occasionally it seemed as he got his alone moment with the friend he so needed to.

She had never considered herself a shy person, just quiet. She'd had the only friend she ever wanted before all this and so never actively sought out anyone else. So when Regulus came over near her and tried to hide a pair of cuffs with the Malfoy crest underneath some of the papers, she didn't hesitate to engage him now that she made her decision. "Can I talk to you?"

"I don't see why not," he agreed, now holding a gross looking shriveled up hand without concern and eyeing the dripping pearls of the chandelier above her. She waited until he'd levitated it up there and was now pacing the length of the room, eyeing the bed, rug, and shelves keenly as he passed a silver cross in his hands with emeralds the size of her fist back and forth in his hands while she followed his path and tried to convince herself she was being practical rather than pathetic asking someone else about this.

She'd have liked to talk to Frank and Alice, but they had zero experience in the matter, this seemed her only option.

"How well do you know Severus?" She asked uneasily, as the man himself gave a list of believable enough reasons to Lestrange about why he was apparently still in Voldemort's good graces, but then what were his answers to Dumbledore for still being a trusted member of the Order? Why couldn't they have heard about that conversation instead?

He didn't answer right away, visibly thinking hard about something with that tick they'd all noticed by now. When he did answer, there was no self-pity in his voice. "Look, I'm not a fool, I know Sirius sent me away on purpose, and I honestly don't mind, it's nicer than he ever was back in school. Kinder than outright telling me to piss off, right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Snape and his friends do the same though, Mulciber and Avery you know, even one of my own friends in my dorm, Carrow, they'll set me up to go run errands for them."

They passed by Potter and Lupin having an uneasy whispered conversation watching their friends, whom were clearly at least talking about something. Neither Sirius or Pettigrew seemed angry, but they kept gesturing at Regulus and shaking their heads a lot. At least he really wasn't peeking though, he had his eyes closed the whole time, and she bit her lip to stop herself laughing at the sight.

"Like a test," obviously noticing the same and choosing to let them be too. "Weird shit each time to see my nerve I guess. Follow Macdonald around for an hour to see where she goes, sneak this into class under McGonagall's nose without getting caught." He paused with a look of maybe not guilt, but some regret for clearly never having it in him to ask before any why's.

"That instant Darkness powder-" she suddenly realized, far, far back in that ghastly chamber.

"Was supposed to be checking where Slughorn was and steal some special snake venom form him, ironically," he agreed with a twisted grin far more reminiscent of his brother than he'd ever admit. "Powder was in case he caught me."

He considered her for only another moment before continuing. "I don't know what exactly Snape gets up to, they haven't let me in on that, but I've got a feeling it's coming soon enough when I get back. If all this is supposed to happen when I'm sixteen, they won't wait much longer. Sorry if that's not much help to you," he finished genuinely. "I suppose they could be doing the same to him and I just don't know it."

"That's alright," she promised. "Thanks, it's more than I knew already." Was calling her that foul word a part of their tests? Or had the memory truly hinged on Potter's cruel actions in the crowd? They weren't following in his head to know just what the worst to him was.

Snape had answered for his crimes well enough to appease one of Voldemort's lieutenants, and Narcissa began baring her soul, pleading her case to help save her child. Lily froze over in shock when he agreed to such a thing.

Regulus stopped when she'd fallen out of step with him, now watching her with those liquid black eyes and still obviously ignoring the two idiots obviously having a conversation about him. He bent down and tucked the cross into the folds of the occamys wings and told her quietly, "maybe he'd do the same for another mother."

"I want to believe that," she admitted, rubbing her hand absently over her empty womb. "I just don't know how to ask, I'll probably sound insane."

"Probably," he agreed with a small smile, eyes roving around when Alice called the chapter was almost done, "but it never hurts to ask." He looked back at Sirius though and frowned, instantly regretting his poor choice of words. How many times had Sirius gotten in trouble for doing exactly that? He'd never wanted to endure the shouting matches that occurred when his brother refused to back down without an answer no matter what way mother and father told him to shut up, and he quickly left the room before he found out the answer, it never felt worth it in such loud anger. If he cared enough later about the initial question, he'd ask Kreacher, who was more than happy to answer in his level voice.

"Wait!" Sirius bellowed, eyes snapping open and instantly bolting to the bed to snatch the book away from her now, running around the room like his tail was on fire as he began looking about and haggling to all three of his friends to give him a hint.

His antics got a laugh out of all of them for one reason or another, filching shamelessly through Lupin's clothes like he really thought something would be hidden there, an awkward and poorly done handstand with his feet resting against the wall swearing it would activate some secret door, and finally trying to coarse Regulus himself to give the last up when he still didn't spot the grotesque hand hanging above.

Regulus just gave him an impish grin truly reminiscent of his brother and snatched the book back to finish the last sentence rather than answer.

[too-attached-to-fiction]

Happier | d.m.

Masterlist here

Part 1 here

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Word count: 1020

Summary: In which reader meets Narcissa Malfoy.

Requested by anon

Request: Would you do a part two of your Draco imagine “choose to be better”? It was absolutely adorable! 

A/N: so uh this turned into a narcissa headcanon, because i personally believe she’s a good person despite her choices, and I think she would be better after the war. She did literally everything for draco and I just wanted her thanking the reader for helping her son. hope you enjoy anon!

~~~

The war was over, but that seemed to be the easiest part. The anniversary was coming up and you were still going to Hogwarts. You had originally planned to become a Healer at St. Mungo’s, but you couldn’t start training until Draco was with you. The both of you agreed to take your eighth year together with McGonagall as the headmistress. 

Neither of you were assigned dorm mates, so you generally took turns sleeping in the other’s dorm most nights, afraid of being alone again. Draco was the one that often held you tightly as nightmares caused him to shake all over.

The Golden Trio, or at least two of them, had left Hogwarts for good, heading straight for Auror training. Hermione stayed to take her eighth year, although you almost never saw her. The rumors floating around the castle claimed that she had special permission from McGonagall to apparate home from Hogsmeade every weekend to take part in Ministry court cases. You didn’t doubt them.

After all, Hermione had helped you for Draco’s court case. During your eighth year winter holiday, she had been one of the key witnesses, and negotiated a fair trial. He got off almost freely, with the promise to never communicate with any other Death Eaters, save for his mother. 

Narcissa wasn’t let off so easy. The court case took seven weeks, with the judge offering a verdict of a seven-year house arrest. She took it gracefully, casting a grateful look to you as the Aurors led her out. 

“I was thinking,” Draco started one evening. The two of you were in the common room, cuddled up close. His head was on your chest, your fingers weaving through his hair. “After we graduate, we could stay at the manor for the summer.” 

A shiver went through you. You knew the stories of the manor.

“Maybe not stay.” Draco said quickly, sitting up. “Visit, at least. Mum’s been going crazy in there.” 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to Hermione about moving your mother to a flat. I can’t imagine what it’s like being alone in the manor.” You shook your head. “Especially with all of the cruel things that occurred there.” 

“I wish we could have helped her more.” He sighed. 

“She made her own choices. Luckily, she wasn’t sworn in as a Death Eater, so it was easier for her defense.” Draco looked down at his own mark. 

“Yeah.” He whispered, and you wrapped your arms around him. 

“That scar means nothing anymore. It’s okay. Harry and Ron are hunting down the remaining death eaters, and Azkaban is under new supervision. We’re going to be fine.” You said gently. 

“Thank you.” 

~~~

Two months later, you found yourselves in front of a small house on the beach. You knew that Shell Cottage was only mere meters away from where Narcissa was living, but you merely kept your mouth shut as you brought your suitcases to the front porch. 

Narcissa had a house elf named Clara. Clara was able to apparate to buy groceries and other necessities. In letters, she was mentioned frequently. It seemed like the older Malfoy held a soft spot for the house elf. 

Draco’s mother greeted you at the door, looking at you carefully as Draco stumbled with your bags. 

“Dray, you don’t need to carry them all at once-” You started, trying to help him, but he waved you off. 

“A woman like you should never carry such things.” He huffed, finally dropping them. 

“And you should never be so blunt.” Narcissa said with a raised eyebrow. “I thought I raised you better than that.” 

“My apologies, Mother.” Draco bowed his head. 

“Come inside, Clara will get your things.” 

The small house elf appeared, her little silk dress swaying just above her feet. 

“When you’re done, Clara, make us tea.” Narcissa commanded, although her voice was gentle. 

“Yes, Mistress Cissy!” Clara chirped. The three of you walked inside. 

The decor was lighter than you expected, but nonetheless grand. A small chandelier hung over the living room that Narcissa guided you into. 

“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting us for the summer.” You said, taking a seat next to Draco on a chaise. 

“You must be tired from your journey. Draco, why don’t you clean yourself up? I’d like to have a word with (Y/N) here.” 

Draco looked at you. You nodded slightly, giving him a smile. “Go on.” You said, squeezing his hand before he stood up and walked out. 

“He’s told me a lot about you.” Narcissa said as Clara appeared with the tea, pouring three cups. 

“All good things, I hope.” You smiled feebly, trying to sit straight and not fidget under her gaze. 

“Yes.” She nodded. “I always wondered if we were leading Draco on the right path. But you seem to have steered him in the right direction, even if that was away from us.” Her eyes grew sad. She looked down at her tea. 

“I didn’t mean t-” 

“Thank you for keeping him safe. I know it wasn’t easy on either of you.” Narcissa said in a quiet voice. “You did what I wasn’t strong enough to do.” 

“He was the one who chose to be good. I didn’t force it upon him. And I think, given the opportunity…” You were blabbering before you could exercise caution now, “I think you could have chosen that as well, under different circumstances.” 

“He told me you were blunt.” She chuckled. “But I’m not sure I can let go of my beliefs or how I was raised. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

“You saved my son. No amount of gold I still have in my possession can repay you.” 

The rest of the summer flew by. You made a conscious effort to befriend Narcissa, although there were times you argued back and forth about your beliefs. Eventually, you and Draco slowly started teaching her more, stripping away years of prejudice. 

When you left the house, you promised to write as much as possible. And thus, began a long, warm friendship with the elder Malfoy. 

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Warning: This chapter implies dark themes during Hermione’s passage, but it is very briefly mentioned and not graphic. If that bothers you please skip!

Chapter Twenty Seven

Harry’s initial shock seemed to wear by the time they were in the Transfiguration corridor. Before that, Ron had been silent, clear dead set on making it back to the tower unnoticed. 

This wouldn’t seem to be the case as the chosen one came to an abrupt stop. 

“Ron, I know where she is.” He spoke in a broken voice. 

All thoughts suddenly left his head. 

He could give a shit less if Malfoy marched up to them right now and hexed their bollocks off. If the entire Chudley Cannons team flew in and announced they’d won the World Cup, he wouldn’t even bat an eye. 

No, the only thing he could think of right now was Hermione. 

Seeing her again. Looking around a room and knowing she’s safe. Telling her all he wants to say. To hold her...

“W-what?” He chokes after a second. It’s the only coherent thing. 

“Sort of,” Harry adds in a whisper, suddenly feeling sorry for obviously getting Ron’s hopes up. “I’ll explain everything but not here. We need to find Neville and get back to the tower.” 

And if that’s what needed to be done for Ron to get some sort of bloody explanation, then you better believe that’s what he was dead set on now. 

Because of Draco's impromptu appearance at his dorm, they finished earlier than anticipated. Neville was surely still at the pitch doing all he could. Thankfully, they weren’t very far so they jogged outside for him. 

“Neville!” Harry called after spotting him in the stands, waving his arms manically. 

Neville looked shocked at their presence but tried to hide it as he clambered down the stands. 

“Harry, Ron, I thought you still had a half hour? Is everything alright?” He whispered worriedly. 

“Fine, it’s fine. Look, come on, I’ll tell you everything,” his green eyes flicked to Ron’s, “both of you, just not here.” 

Neville nodded anxiously as the three rushed hurriedly back to Gryffindor Tower. Soon enough, they reached their dorm as Ron was ready to burst in anticipation. 

“Okay Harry.” Ron said before Potter could even shut the door. 

He hurriedly ruffled through his robes and smacked the picture atop the nearest surface, someone’s trunk. 

Like before, the ginger can do nothing but stare at it in confusion. 

Neville voices as much, “I don’t understand...” 

Harry’s eyes lock with Ron’s. There’s a fire behind them, one he hasn’t seen since that day he ran after Bellatrix, vowing to avenge Sirius. 

“Do you remember Ron that night at the Burrow. That night it happened, I saw him, I saw Hermione.” He spoke rapidly. 

In response Weasley nodded, “yeah, he came twice. Once right after, once that night.” He recalled. 

“Do you remember what I said? When Mad-Eye asked who was there? What I saw?” He encouraged. 

Ron isn’t keen on the fact Harry’s trying to place guessing games rather than just blurt out an explanation, he supposes he’ll play along. “Yeah, you said it was just a big cold room.” Every detail of that night was burned into his brain and revisited often. 

The raven haired boy nodded in encouragement more than anything else, as he cocked an eyebrow. 

It was evident the chosen one was coaxing something out of him, “And...” he screwed his eyes in thoughts. Harry’s strangled voice echoing in his brain. 

“The only thing I remember was a chandelier. It was the only thing shining in the room, you couldn't miss it.”

“Blimey, a chandelier.” Ron almost laughed. So overcome with a sense of hope on the realization. 

A small smile struck Harry’s lips, “this,” he pointed to the photo, “this was the chandelier I saw.”

“So wherever the chandelier is, that’s where Hermione is, yeah?” Neville voiced, having caught on. 

Harry nodded vigorously. “That’s where I saw her.” 

The excitement that had been bubbling deep within them soon dropped, “only problem is, where is that chandelier.” The brunette Gryffindor whispered. 

At this Ron’s own hope seemed to dwindle a bit, but he wouldn’t let it stay that way for long. No, they were onto something, they had to be. 

Think Ron, think! What would Hermione do, come on...  

It came to him a minute later, “I saw that picture in The Prophet. Over the summer.” 

“Okay...” Harry said not really understanding where this was going. 

“There was an article on the lower corner of the same page. It mentioned Percy. Dad was right pissed off after he read it. He incendioed the damn paper. Said he couldn’t believe his own son was apart of such trash that he was sharing a page with the Malfoy’s.” He explained. 

“Ron?” His friend pushed again. 

“Every article, every picture, in The Prophet article cites a place, an author, a photographer. There has to be something.” 

“Mate you just said it yourself, your Dad set it on fire. Either way, I doubt your folks hoard The Prophet.” Harry reminded sounding a little defeated, but the spark was still evident. 

“You're right, they don’t,” he paused, “but the library does.” 

Neville’s face lit up like it was his Birthday, “he’s right! When we started up the D.A. last year, Hermione and I went through archives from the first war to pull pictures for the board. That’s brilliant Ron!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

They turned to Harry, gaging his reaction. Soon, a grin etched his way onto his lips, “what are we still doing here? Let’s go to the library.” 

They all began racing out. 

“Blimey, spending my night in the library. If only Hermione could see us now.” He whispered to himself. 

...

Her mind may be muddled but she isn’t stupid. Far from it. 

There’s a small crack in the cell next to hers, right on the ceiling. If she strains her ears enough she’s sometimes able to hear what they’re saying. 

“When?” She swears she hears Bellatrix ask. 

“Two nights. I need time to prepare. The Order has been around.” Voldemort hisses. 

“Of course my lord.” Hermione can visualize her bowing in compliance. 

“Until then, not a word of this to the girl, understand?” 

“Yes. Yes, of course. You have my word.” She hears Bellatrix promise. 

Hermione gulps as she hears the cracking of disapparating and stomping of boots from above. 

Painfully, she slinks back into the far corner to rest. It’s an absolute miracle she’s even conscious after everything upstairs. 

Teeth. Nails. His hands, oh god, don’t think- 

She screws her eyes in thought, pulling roughly at her shirt with her less injured hand. 

Her clothes are mangled and tattered. Practically shreds at this point. Her entire body is exposed and that alone makes chills dance along her spine. 

She doesn’t know if the blood covering the expanse of her most personal spots are a good or bad thing. Either way it makes her wretch. 

She hears footsteps come down the steps. The candle flickers on which makes her ease a bit. It only does that when Natali- no, Narcissa, comes down stairs. 

She takes a moment to berate herself. Maybe she’s not as smart as she once thought. 

Stupid, stupid mind, you’re supposed to be brilliant! She scolds, the voice in her head almost sounds like Bellatrix. 

She’s broken from her thoughts as a large clinging of metal practically makes her jump out of her skin. 

Hermione looks up to see the woman with a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in fear. 

Carefully Hermione surveys the room, trying to find what has her in such a state. 

She soon realizes it’s her. This causes her to self consciously throw her arm over her breasts. 

“Oh child, what did they do to you?” She cries out, dropping to her knees. 

The brunette cowers a little at her words, silent tears streak her cheeks. 

Like last night, she can tell Hermione needs comfort now more than ever, as Narcissa thoughtlessly throws open the bars and drops to her knees. 

Welcoming the soothing touch as opposed to the burning she gets when Greyback or anyone else touches her, she falls onto the woman’s shoulder. 

They sit like this for a while. Narcissa strokes her matted, disgusting hair, soothing her. 

It isn’t until Hermione calms down that she realizes Missus Malfoy has thrown her cloak around her frame. 

“They’re planning something. I don’t know what.” Narcissa tells her in an honest whisper, “it won’t be good for you.” She says next. 

And the words should really evoke some terrible fear deep within her, but they don’t. She’s just numb to the pain at this point. 

“Was it worth it?” She pulls away to look at Hermione’s dull, almost lifeless eyes, “was what you did today worth all this?” Narcissa has to know. She’s not patronizing her, she’s just trying to understand. 

Momentarily she can see a spark in the young witch's eyes as she nods. 

“W-worth e-everything.” She stutters out, having trust that Harry was doing something. Anything. 

All the days she’s spent here she’s felt useless. Like some damsel in distress waiting for her prince to come get her out, but today was different. Today she felt like she controlled her own fate, if even a small portion. 

The consequences were dreadful, unbearable, but in that moment when she called for Harry, she felt like herself again. If only for a second. 

She hasn’t felt that way in weeks. 

Narcissa nodded at her words and then returned to hugging her small frame. 

Neither knew that what Hermione did today would cost her nearly everything.

…

Madam Pince gave them no trouble when they requested the archives. Ron imagines it’s pretty empty here considering it’s most common occupant has been away. 

The book is an enchanted one. You tell it a date or just a general period time and it’ll open to the exact copy from the requested time. 

Harry currently had it in front of him at the table. 

“What do we say?” He asked, eyeing it curiously. 

Ron thinks, “well, the article was over the summer. It was after school, but before Hermione arrived. So I reckon it was between a two week period.” He thinks aloud before deciding, “The Daily Prophet, June Twenty-Seventh 1996.” He told it. 

Suddenly it’s pages fluttered to life, lightly ruffling the boys’ hair as it flicked hurriedly. It stopped after a few moments with a large headline labeled, ‘Dumbledore due to Retire after Ministry Break-In!’

“Rubbish.” Neville mumbled reading it. 

Knowing this wasn’t it, he told the book to keep flipping. 

Most of the headlines were shite. All boasting about how wonderful the ministry is, how awful  Hogwarts is, even mentions of Harry. 

‘The Boy Who Lies, Again!’ The title for June thirtieth read with a picture of Harry from the Ministry. 

Upon seeing that, Ron only hurried his calls to the book. 

“Next day!” Nope. “Next Day!” Another page down. 

Just as he prepared to call for it to move on, Neville yelled out, “stop!” 

His blue eyes peeled from Harry and to the book. In front of them sat the picture of the Malfoy’s, above it read ‘Malfoy Mentality’ in thick capital letters. 

For good measure Harry shakily held up the photo from the dorm next to it. 

A complete match. 

Wordlessly, the three moved closer and anxiously began to read the contents of the article. 

It was a load of rubbish. Just going on and on about how the Malfoy’s manage to remain so respectable during these times (their words not his). A few quotes from Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were also sprinkled about. 

Ron can’t say he was shocked when the whole article was written by one Rita Skeeter. Even more maddening, not once did they talk about wherever the hell that picture was. 

Next, he flashed his eyes to the photo in question, squinting to make out the small font underneath it. 

Photographed by-

“Balthasar Bartolo Brimblehawk!” Neville yells out, causing someone to shush him from nearby. 

He flushes red and drops into a whisper, “Brimblehawk, I know him.” He tells them. 

“You do?” Harry asked, astonished at their luck. It’s almost as if they raised Slughorn’s stash of Felix Felicis prior to coming here. 

He nods a little madly, “he was a big deal way back then, with The Order and all. Those pictures, the ones we had from the D.A. I reckon he took all of those.” 

“Then why the hell is he now taking pictures of the Malfoy’s?” Ron asks before he can help it. 

Neville goes on, “he took my parents wedding photos, my Gran’s too. He even took some photos of me when I was little, my Gran owl’s him from time to time. Last Easter she was having tea with Mrs.Criswell and I heard them talking. I mean normally it’s just gossip mind you, you know about other women or-“

“Neville.” Ron says gently, trying to steer him on track.  

“Right. Sorry.” He says, “anyway, I zoned in because they mentioned You-Know-Who. When The Prophet had their little, uh, change, they wanted only the best. Brimblehawk is the best photographer for this type of thing I reckon, war times and all.” 

“But?” Harry interjected knowing it was coming. 

Sadly, Neville nodded, “but, apparently he refused to be a part of it. Next day his shop was broken into, ransacked. They never said who it was, of course one can only assume...” he trailed, “scared for him and his grandkids, he agreed to do work for them. Reckon he didn’t have much of a choice.” 

“Bugger.” Ron mumbled. He wasn’t naive, he knew how wars worked. His Mum lost her brothers to the last one, but it didn’t make the fact innocent people. People like Brimblehawk, like Hermione, were paying the prince. 

“Last I heard he stills develops photos from time to time down at his shop, he lives above it. Heard he takes less pictures now because of everything, plus he’s rather old, probably around Dumbledore’s age now.” Neville finished with a shrug. 

“And could you get in contact with him? Your Gran maybe?” Harry questioned anxiously. 

He sighed and shook his head, “If I sent an owl he’d surely be confused, tell me Gran and all. Then my Gran would demand answers, well, you know how that goes. I don’t wanna ruin this whole thing, it’s a bit of a secret.” 

“Yeah a bit.” Ron scoffed sarcastically. 

The dark haired boy monetarily glared at his friend, “okay, so that’s out of question, I think face to face interaction would be best. Where’d you say his shop was?” He asked. 

Neville looked a little defeated, “I didn’t. It’s in Diagon Alley.” 

“Diagon Alley! The next time we’ll be allowed over there is Easter holidays. I can’t wait that long!” Ron exclaimed in a harsh whisper. 

“I know, shite.” Harry mumbled, nibbling nervously on his finger nails. 

“Maybe someone else could? I mean, you guys said McGonagall and Dumbledore-“ the brunette started. 

“No.” Harry dismissed, “they’d ask too many questions. If too many people knew, word could get back to whoever has her. They could move her. We need someone who understands how important this is. Someone who knows Hermione as more than the Brightest Witch of our Age.” 

“Who?” Neville asks after a moment, thinking the chosen one was onto something. 

Harry didn’t speak, but Ron did. 

“Fred and George.”

[mfingenius]

Okay so i am probably gonna ask multiple people this but, can you do a drarry where Draco runs away from his friends and its been an hour since he came back so they go to the golden trio and ask for help after a bit of convincing they agree. Harry then finds Draco having a panic attack or an emotional breakdown in a bathroom and decides to comfort him because they are so gay for eachother. But only if you want

“An hour?” Harry snaps; Parkinson flinches back lightly, but Zabini holds his ground, throwing Harry a bored look. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Oh, are you his keeper now?” Zabini asks, cocking an eyebrow. “Are we supposed to tell you anytime he’s feeling unwell?”

“Feeling unwell?” Harry echoes disbelievingly. “Feeling unwell? You have no idea where he is!”

“We thought we could handle it.” Parkinson says. Zabini opens his mouth, but she throws him a venomous glare. “We were wrong, obviously. We’re asking for your help now, Potter, would you rather spend your time here yelling at us or would you like to look for Draco?”

Harry leaves them without another word. As he walks, he goes through every possible scenario in his mind. Their dorm, Draco’s most obvious place of comfort. The library, the Black Lake, the old oaks by the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Of course, there’s the possibility that Draco’s left Hogwarts, but Harry doesn’t want to think about that possibility, because it makes finding him seem much more impossible than it already does.

He runs up to his dorm for the Marauders’ map; he used to carry it around exactly for this purpose, since, right after the war, Draco tended to disappear whenever he got overwhelmed, which was often. Harry’s not used to having to check the map for him anymore, because since they started dating, instead of disappearing, Draco simply tugs on Harry’s hand - they’re always holding hands - and Harry knows that it means ‘I want to leave’. 

He always takes Draco up to their dorm when that happens, and they lay in his bed together - far enough that nothing but their hands are touching - but close enough that Draco could reach out if he wanted to.

He never does.

Harry doesn’t blame him; he doesn’t know what spying in a house full of death eaters for two years would’ve done to him, but he knows it would’ve been entirely justified, even if it was a hell of a lot worse than Draco’s phobia of being touched.

He searches the map frantically until he finds Draco’s dot; it takes Harry a few seconds to realize where he is. When he does, he frowns.

Draco’s dot appears to be in their shared dorm, but Harry’s right here, and he can’t see him. He looks around carefully, and then at the map again. The map never lies.

“Draco?” he asks softly.

There’s no sound. Harry looks even more carefully, and catches sight of a short, white-blond strand of hair on his pillow. He sighs, relieved.

“Love,” He says softly, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I know you’re here. Can we talk?”

There’re two sniffles, and no other sound. Harry gently grabs onto the edge of the invisibility cloak and pulls it away from his boyfriend; Draco’s eyes are red-rimmed, his hair a mess and his face flushed with how much he’s been crying.

“Is everything alright?” Harry asks. It’s quite a stupid question, but he doesn’t know what else to ask.

Draco shakes his head.

“Alright,” Harry says softly. “Would you like to hold hands?”

Draco shakes his head again.

“Alright,” he says. He’s about to ask Draco if he’d like more blankets, or some tissues, when he speaks.

“I’m sorry.” He croaks.

“Whatever for, love?”

“I - that I won’t let you - that I can’t give you that.” He says. “That I can’t - touch you. I know you’re going to break up with me, I just - I’m trying really hard Harry, I swear I am, and I know I’m not what you want but if I could-”

“Draco,” Harry says, quite firmly. Draco flinches lightly. “Love, listen to me. Don’t apologize for that. I’m not leaving you, and I know you’re trying. I’m happy with whatever you’re willing to give me. You’re what I want. You, entirely, whether that includes not touching at all or kissing you every single day, it doesn’t matter to me. I want to be with you, however that comes.”

“You want to kiss me,” Draco says lowly. “I know you do. I heard you. I can’t - I’m not ready yet.”

Harry curses colorfully in his head. He’d been having a conversation with Ron the other day, in the common room. It’s true, that he’d mentioned wanting to kiss Draco - and fuck, really, he thinks that’s hardly a hard thing to figure out - but he didn’t mean for Draco to hear it, didn’t want to make him feel bad.

“And I know that, love,” He says softly. “And I would never want to pressure you. I said that to Ron because I do want to kiss you, but I never want to do anything you don’t want, too.”

“But I want it!” Draco snaps angrily. He sits up and rubs furiously at his eyes. “I want that, too, Harry, but every time I try to convince myself to just kiss you I feel this rising panic like I might vomit and-”

He trails off, gesturing uselessly, looking frustrated.

“There’s nothing wrong with whatever pace you set, love.” Harry says carefully. “I know you want it, and I know it’s frustrating, but you can’t force yourself into things you’re not ready for. It won’t work.”

“I wish it would.” Draco says. He looks exhausted.

Harry wishes he could do it all for him, could somehow fix everything so that Draco could do exactly as he’d like without having to war with himself over it. 

He gives his best encouraging smile. “We’ll get there.”

Draco hesitates, and then sighs a little. “Can you - hold me tonight?”

Harry freezes momentarily. They’ve never done that. They’ve never even slept in the same bed, in case either of them rolled over in their sleep and ended up touching. 

“I’d like that,” he admits. “If you want it-”

“I do.” Draco says.

Harry nods. “Promise me to kick me out if it gets to be too much?”

The corners of Draco’s lips lift. “I promise.”

Carefully, they get under the covers; Harry moves slowly, much more obviously than he needs to so that Draco can anticipate what he’s going to do next. In case that’s not enough, he tells him everything he’s going to do before he does it.

“I’m going to put my arms around you, love.” He says, softly.

Draco nods stiffly, and Harry carefully moves closer, places an arm around Draco’s waist. He’s incredibly tense, everything about him screaming ‘uncomfortable’. Still, without Draco giving the word, Harry doesn’t want to let go.

“Good?” He asks, after a bit.

“Good,” Draco says. He’s relaxing slowly - incredibly, unbelievably slowly, but relaxing all the same - and Harry’s practically floating. This is the longest he’s ever touched Draco, the closest he’s been to him, and it’s heavenly.

He’ll wait for whenever Draco can do this and like it, and it’ll be worth it, because, of all people, Harry believes that his boyfriend deserves to feel heavenly.

————————————-

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[harrypotterpreferences]

Harry Potter Preferences #1 - He Takes Care of You when You’re Sick     

-

     Draco: The tears that cascaded down your cheeks were cool in comparison to your scalding temperature as Draco wiped the bile off your chin once again. “I want to die,” you cried out in a grating breath, continuing the fight for air as you gasped wildly. Whoever said that marriage was beautiful was, indeed, a liar. Draco pressed his lips in a firm line as he moved the wash cloth back over your forehead and gently pushed your shoulders back on the couch. “I don’t want that,” He murmured, his voice gentle, his lips pressing sweetly to your burning temple. “Ever.” You laughed softly, shaking your head as you closed your eyes. “I figured out of everyone, including myself, that you would want me dead more than anyone.” It was true—Draco had been doing everything from cleaning your puke to making sure you were hydrated; for crying out loud, it was currently three in the morning and he was still awake attending to you. Not to mention this wasn’t something he had to do, but something he insisted on because he truly loved you that much. “In sickness and in health, y/n. If that means dealing with your puke, I’m honored to get to do this.” Reaching a quivering hand out to him, he grasped it and you smiled. “What have I done to deserve you?” Chuckling softly as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the temple of your forehead, you couldn’t help but to close your eyes at his touch. “The question is, what have I done to deserve you,” He spoke, smoothing your hair back as he brought you peace for the first time in the last four hours.

-

Harry: “Harry, you did it! You won!” You choked in between raucous coughs as you ran onto the Quidditch field, your arms opened at arms length. Once your bodies connected, Harry caught you in midair twirling you around in a clumsy circle as he beamed excitedly. That is, until, he pulled away to look at you and noticed how truly ill you appeared. “Y/N…” Harry frowned, his fingertips softly prodding the dark circles that stained under your eyes, examining your puffy, swollen face with concern. “Oh, It’s nothing at all, we should be talking about you!” You tried to dismiss him as you smiled lovingly, averting the attention back to him and his big win, but Harry shook his head. “Y/N, look at you. You’re sicker than a dog,” Pulling up his sleeve, Harry pressed his wrist to your forehead, your eyes closing in defeat knowing your fever was at an all time high. “Merlin, you’re burning up.” He whispered, tutting his tongue in disapproval as he stared down at you. “You need to go to the hospital wing, Y/N. You’re far too ill to be out, let alone in this cold air. I wish you would’ve just stayed put in your dorm, instead you’re risking your health even more.” Pulling your hat down farther, and adjusting your scarf so that you were bundled up more, Harry began to grow more and more concerned by the minute. “And miss you win? C’mon, Harry. You’ve gotta know me a little better by now,” You argued, your sentence breaking with a congested cough. “Unfortunately, I do. You’re too stubborn for your own good, you wouldn’t of stayed put even if your life depended on it.” Harry laughed slightly as you beamed. “Would you have me any other way?” And with that, he was slinging you onto his back in a piggy back ride, your laughter coming out in delighted squeals. “The only way I want to have you is healthy,”

-

Ron: “This has got to be it.” Ron raised an eyebrow up at your sudden outburst, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. “I am dying.” Letting out a strained, pathetic cough, you winced at the soreness lurching against your chest. “The last time you said that, you had cut yourself from shaving your legs too quickly. Don’t be so dramatic,” Scoffing in disbelief, you narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend who was now smiling back at you smug. You were in the process of recovering from the flu—you hadn’t vomited in 24 hours, but your limbs felt like gelatin and your body ached miserably. That wasn’t going to stop you from arguing, however, you weren’t feeling /that/ bad. “Y’know people used to die from the flu all the of time, their fevers would get so high that they would slip into comas! That could happen to me, you never know the situation, Ronald. The flu is different for everyone and I swear when I actually die from this, you’re going to feel so bad that you ever called me dramatic and—” You were cut off abruptly by his lips connecting against your own softly. This was the first time he had kissed you in two days, since you had first gotten diagnosed with the affliction. Needless to say, this kiss made you feel as if you were being revived from your previous state of death. It was absolutely amazing what a simple peck, what a simple act of affection from him could do for you. It was, without a doubt, magic. When Ron finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against your own, laughing lovingly soft laugh while brushing over your features gently, and carefully. “Welcome back. I was beginning to mourn the days of our bickering,” Ron pressed yet another kiss to your lips as you sighed, melting against him.

-

George: “As someone who thinks you look beautiful all the time, I can’t help but to notice how awful you look right now.” Glowering savagely at your boyfriend, you only broke his stare when you let out a large sneeze, your eyes watering involuntarily. You were sick. So, sick. And it couldn’t have been at the worst time. Furthermore, it was the Yule Ball. And how often did the Yule Ball occur at Hogwarts? Not very often. You had been anticipating this day for weeks, months even. You had planned it down to the last second, making sure every detail was perfect and beautiful. Leave it to your immune system to betray you at the last second, nevertheless. “I. Am. Healthy.” You wheezed in between coughs, your nose running the entire time. “If you’re healthy, Dumbledore is sane. Y/N, you’re sick. We need to get you to Madam Pompfrey’s-” George’s words trailed off the second you shot him the dirtiest look you could muster. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? I just want to dance, and have you look at me like I’m beautiful.” You sniffled, defeated as your head dropped, your eyes darting to the ground. You felt silly for being so upset, but how could you not be? This night was supposed to be perfect. “Don’t you understand that I look at you like you’re beautiful every single day? You don’t need to wear a fancy dress, you don’t need a ballroom, you don’t even need to be 110% healthy. I will always think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on; I will always think that you’re gorgeous, just the way you are. But right now, I care about you being healthy. So, I need you to let me escort you to the hospital wing, okay?” At his words, you let out a sigh nodding your head, allowing George to leave the way. How did you get so lucky?

-

Fred: Pressing your forehead against the edge of the toilet, you let out an inarticulate groan.  This was the third time you had vomited in the last hour and you were beginning to embrace the harsh, cruel reality—you were sick. So sick that you had impetuously forgot your boyfriend was coming over for a movie night tonight. So sick that you hadn’t even heard him come through the door or even noticed his presence until his fingers were combing through your damp hair until it was pulled back into a messy ponytail. “Fred!” You gasped, cursing inwardly, continuing to catch your breath as you retched. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He cooed as he rubbed your back soothingly. “No, it’s not. You have to go home, Fred, I really don’t want you to see me like this.” He laughed at your feeble attempts to push him away and quickly enveloped you in a hug, ignoring your protest entirely. “Don’t be stupid, y/n. Even if you’re sick, you’re still the most beautiful person in the world.” That pulled you up right, your heart faltering in pure adoration and ardor. You wanted to retort with something smart, but he was entirely too genuine and you were far too sick. All you could do was relax against his grasp, allowing yourself to slump against his frame. You were defeated. Of course, you didn’t want him to see you sick, but above that you didn’t want him to leave you alone to wither and deteriorate. “Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart, you need rest while I make you a potion.” And with that, he was carrying you to bed, hooking his hands under you, your face nuzzling contently in his neck. You were so happy to have him.

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

‘All that’s best of dark and bright’ - a Draco x Hermione x Theo story - Chapter Four

For the 0.5 people following this story on here instead of Ao3...

Chapter One here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Two here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Three here: Tumblr | Ao3

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table that evening, still mulling over Malfoy’s behaviour in Charms.  

It had been her mention of the snatchers that had prompted his expression to darken and his body to fill with tension, and she still couldn’t shake the way that he’d turned quiet and openly vulnerable under Theo’s gentle touch. Over the years she’d known him at Hogwarts, Malfoy had always seemed to viscerally sharp and prickly, so volatile and yet so cold, that realising he was apparently an extremely tactile person somehow felt like she’d taken a bludger to the head. Yet again she saw a boy who’d been isolated by circumstance, and not by choice, and she resolved to put a little more effort into bridging the gaping canyon that still existed between them.  

At supper that evening, Ginny rather predictably talked the ears off everyone at their end of the table about the Holyhead Harpies and their latest nail-biter of a match against the Wimbourne Wasps. Apparently she and the rest of the Gryffindor team had been glued to the wireless all afternoon during their various free periods.  

“…and then when Helena Abbington swept in at the last minute and stopped a bludger from hitting Wilkins, she and Elcomb only pulled off a bloody Porskoff Ploy so well that the Wasps didn’t even see the quaffle drop until it was too late!” Ginny enthused around a final mouthful of goulash. “Seriously, we were all —” she caught sight of Hermione’s politely bored face midway through taking a swig of pumpkin juice to wash down the clog of goulash, and snorted so hard that juice actually came out of her nose. “I’m sorry, ‘Mione,” she laughed, and Hermione’s chest panged at the unexpected use of Ron’s nickname for her. “I’m so sorry. Oh crap, did I get you with juice?” She dug out her wand. “Oh Godric, I’m sorry - scourgify - but you should have seen your face!”  

“The complexities of quidditch manoeuvres have never failed to entertain me, Ginny,” she said flatly. “I’m sorry.” Dinners in the Weasley household had been interminable on nights when someone got going on the subject.  

“No, it’s totally fine. Just remind me to cancel your subscription to Seeker Weekly that I set up for your birthday.” At the words ‘your birthday’, her eyes went wide and she shrieked, “Oh my Gryffindor! Your birthday! It’s… It’s…”

“This Saturday,” she smiled sadly. Neither Ron nor Harry had mentioned coming down to see her, or meeting up in Hogsmeade, and she rather suspected that they might have forgotten. That stung more than she cared to admit.

From behind her, a male voice drawled, “It’s your birthday, Granger?” 

Ginny’s expression soured immediately and her gaze shifted to a spot behind Hermione as she snarled, “Piss off, Nott. And whatever you’re thinking of doing to spoil it… don’t.”

“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’re Head Girl! You should be a little more impartial, don’t you think?”

“Not when it comes to my best friends,” she pouted. Her mistrust of anyone even tangentially associated with Voldemort’s supporters was widely known, and Theodore took a polite half-step back, palms up, dark blue eyes widely innocent. Ginny continued to glare at him, but she did at least let him speak.  

“I’m not putting in a last-minute, bulk order to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes,” he smiled carefully. “I promise. I was just surprised you hadn't mentioned it on our patrols, that’s all. Listen, while we’re on the subject, Granger, I came over to tell you I’m going to be a bit late tonight. Can I meet you at nine up on the third floor?”

Despite his usually abysmal time-keeping, Nott had surprisingly never been late to a patrol before, so she simply nodded. It wasn’t as if anything the students could throw at her would be more dangerous or daunting than everything she’d faced in the past three years. “Sure. Meet you by the painting of the drunk monks?”

Nott’s handsome, slightly wonky smile split wide and white across his face, drawing dimples in his cheeks that made her stomach flutter, and he inclined his head. “Perfect. Thanks, Granger.”

“You can call me Hermione, you know?” she said in a bit of a rush as he turned to leave, fighting another blush.

He paused and then turned to look over his shoulder at her. “Then I insist that you stop calling me ‘Nott’,” he said with a very slight bow of his head. One of the tighter curls at the front of his chestnut brown hair flopped further forewords onto his forehead. “Call me Theo. Never Theodore.” And he shuddered visibly, his freckles standing out a little more as his cheeks paled for just a moment.  

“Right,” she said and then, because she fancied trying it out, she added, “Theo.”  

With one further and final brightening of that already blinding smile, presumably at the sound of his name on her lips, he strode away without explanation as to why he was going to be late, and Hermione turned back to see Ginny with her jaw practically dangling on the table. Even Neville looked a little stunned, as if he still didn’t believe his eyes, even after their conversation earlier that very day.

“What?” she asked, the blush finally spilling across her cheeks, hot and tingling.

“Since when are you so… ‘chummy’ with the Slytherins?” she asked acerbically.  

She blinked. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to be on good terms with one’s peers,” she sniffed defensively as everyone’s eyes seemed to bore into her. God, it reminded her of the courtroom and Malfoy’s trial. “Besides, he’s actually halfway decent, believe it or not.”

Ginny looked like she’d swallowed a bubotuber whole. “Right,” she said. “Look… Hermione, I really don’t mean to be an arse about this, but… you do remember that he’s friends with Draco Malfoy, don’t you? You know, the boy who tried to kill Dumbledore and who let a bloody horde of Death Eaters into the castle who… you know, who ultimately helped to murder my brother…” Tears sparkled in her eyes as she glared at her.

Her heart went out to the younger girl, but she wasn’t about to back down either. “I’m aware of Malfoy’s history, Ginny, and of who we all lost,” she said, trying to keep her voice from rising and quavering. “I’m not… I’m not saying they’re perfect by any means, but… I’d like to give them a chance. Both of them. Theo was cleared of any involvement, and Malfoy was tried and released on probation, remember?”

Ginny’s eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. “Tell that to Fred!” she hissed, standing from the table and storming away.  

Hermione took a deep breath and glanced around at the audience their little tussle had gathered amongst the Gryffindors. “What?” she snapped, pushing herself to her feet and disentangling her legs from the bench. “You heard McGonagall at the start of term. And we can’t keep treating everyone like criminals.” Her heart was racing, blood pounding in her ears. Why didn’t they understand? Why did they all think it was still ‘us’ and ‘them’? “We just can’t live like that!” she said shrilly, and she stalked from the hall in Ginny’s wake, tears blurring her vision.  

She’d always hated the fact that she wore her heart on her sleeve like this, emotions always boiling right up to the surface at a moment’s notice when she wished she could remain calm and collected instead of going off like a powder keg. It was something she’d always admired about the people who tended to be sorted into Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Then again, she’d almost been sorted into Ravenclaw, so perhaps it had nothing to do with houses at all and everything to do with her own inability to control her emotions. She’d have made a terrible occlumens.

As the arched entrance to the great hall approached, still in a bit of a blur, she crashed headlong into someone who also happened to be leaving the hall at the same time. A flash of white hair registered in her peripheral vision as Malfoy of all people steadied her with one pale and surprisingly strong hand. He then released her and stepped back.  

“Granger?” he asked in a low, softly-articulated purr, taking in the sheen to her eyes and the colour in her cheeks. He shot a glance back over his shoulder at the table where several astounded Gryffindors were still staring after her, and then turned his fierce, silver gaze back to her.  

“I’m sorry, Malfoy,” she hissed, desperate not to prolong the fuss. “I’m fine. Thank you.” And with that, she fled to Gryffindor tower to curl up with a book by the common room fire until it was time for her patrol. She didn’t see Ginny again, and later that evening when she nipped up to their dorm to grab her thicker cloak to ward off the castle’s wandering drafts, the drapes of Ginny’s four-poster were pointedly shut.  

The first half of her solo rounds passed without much incident and she found the solitude strangely grounding as she paced the empty halls. Ginny’s grief at the loss of her older brother was still so raw and close to the surface, and Hermione could certainly see how a friendship - however tentative - with a Slytherin like Theodore Nott would have been anathema to her. Ginny may have been fair and a good choice for a head of school, but when it came to blood ties, the Weasleys were a fiercely loyal family. Hermione had not been present when Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix, but to hear any of them tell it, Molly had turned into something akin to an avenging banshee to defend her daughter from the deranged Death Eater.  

Near the library she found two first years sneaking about on a dare and deducted a cautionary five points from Hufflepuff to warn them off trying anything again, and moved on towards the third floor. She met Nearly Headless Nick and paused to chat with him at length on one of the few static staircases before spotting Mrs. Norris’ tail disappearing around a corner. The satisfaction she felt at not having to be afraid of that sight boosted her mood somewhat. She moved on through the castle like a stray draft, belonging and yet still disconnected; she knew the place inside out, and yet it still felt strange to her to be back here again after everything, with barely a blast or scorch mark on the stones to speak of what had happened scarcely four months earlier.

Just as she reached the third floor and rounded a corner, she paused. A feminine giggle echoed down the hall, followed by a quickly hushed groan.

Perfect.  

Of all the things she found herself dealing with as a prefect - sleepwalking, sneaking about, dares into the Restricted Section - illicit encounters by moonlight were probably her least favourite. Everyone needed some kind of connection, some kind of… release… but rules were rules after all, and although Hogwarts was probably the safest place in the world once more, it still didn’t do to be wandering the halls at night.  

Inhaling deeply, she stepped out with the intention of interrupting them and sending them packing with twenty points from each house, when a warm, dry palm slid over her mouth from behind her. Before she could squeal or hex her assailant into the middle of last week, Theodore Nott shifted silently into her field of vision, with the finger of his other hand pressed against his smirking lips.  

“Theo,” she hissed like a disgruntled Crookshanks when he released her, and he grinned wider, dimples and all. “Merlin and Morgana! You scared me!”

With a very quiet, earthy chuckle that sent heat rushing right the way through her, he twitched his eyebrows down the corridor. “Who is it then?”

“As if I should know from one breathy little giggle!” she scoffed, still somehow keeping her voice down despite her indigence.  

He actually had extremely nice hands, she thought, trying not to look at them, and that then realisation made her cheeks flush and her heart flutter. While Malfoy had the hands of a potion master, steady and long-fingered, Theo had the hands of a scholar, all ink stained and slightly knuckly. She scolded herself for fixating on her classmates’ hands - now of all times - and rounded on him defensively.  

“Come on,” she said. “Now that you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful. And what were you doing — if I might ask — that was so much more important than your duties as a prefect?”

“Tutoring third years,” he said casually as he turned to face the length of the corridor. “Arithmancy. They’re terrible. An absolute disgrace to Slytherin. Now, come on, let’s have some fun. I reckon they’re behind that tapestry halfway down. You know, the one with that coat of arms and the randy unicorn.”

Theodore Nott tutored students?  

She froze, staring at him with a look of incredulous amusement on her face, trying to imagine him teaching. Actually, that didn’t help her situation at all and she quickly abandoned the image before it took hold. “It’s ‘rampant’, not ‘randy’,” she finally croaked, which only made him snicker softly. Of course he knew that. Flustered at having allowed herself to be goaded by him, she added, “So you’re familiar with that hiding place then, Nott? You’ve been caught there before, have you?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he said and strode off before she could stop gawping like a landed fish.  

He flicked his wand at the huge tapestry and it peeled slowly back like a theatre curtain to expose the two mortified fifth years entangled within the alcove. Mercifully they were mostly dressed, just a little rumpled, and she and Nott sent the pair on their way with only ten points from Ravenclaw and ten from Gryffindor. Hermione would never be able to look the girl in the face again.  

As the fifth years scuttled off like startled beetles, Theo turned to her and let the tapestry fall back into place. The ridiculousness of it caught up with them at the same time, and they both burst out laughing, the sound of it ringing on the cold stone of the corridor. It was a relief to laugh, she realised as her eyes watered and she felt giddy and light for the first time in weeks. She put her hand on the rough stonework of the wall beside the tapestry and let her body shake with it.  

“You’re telling me you’ve never been caught like that, Granger?” Theo said once his own laughter had died down. He still had those delicious dimples though, and his eyes glittered.  

Her face flushed hot and she remembered a few stolen kisses here and there, and once significantly more, with Viktor Krum.

Theo’s eyebrows expressed a very keen interest, and she began examining the needlework of the tapestry with sudden focus.  

“Well, well,” he said. “I’m not going to pry, but that’s a very interesting train of thought you’ve given me, Granger.”

“Oh?” she said archly, half turning to look back at him over her shoulder and daring him to continue that with flashing eyes, despite the colour in her cheeks.

“Mm.”

“And who was it that you were caught sneaking about with then?”

Theo absolutely refused to say with whom he’d been caught, and in what state of undress, and by the time they reached the end of their patrol route, she’d stopped prodding at him for answers. He was a Slytherin after all, and did not divulge secrets willingly.  

“Any plans for your birthday, Granger?” he asked conversationally as they made their way back towards the grand staircase. She didn’t have to accompany him, but hadn’t felt like returning yet. “You’ll be nineteen, right?”

A stray draft tugged at her hair and she shivered. With a shrug and a nod, she said, “No plans really. I’ll see what happens and play it by ear.”

“When is it again?” he asked, pace slowing as his eyebrows drew together into a little frown.

“Saturday.”

“No plans with Potter and Weasley?” he asked and when she shrugged again, his expression soured just a fraction more.  

As they passed by a painting of a wizard, who looked remarkably like Charlie Weasley, wrangling a Hungarian Horntail, the dragon gave a shriek that made her jump. Theo chuckled softly and she felt her insides heat up all over again at the sound of it.  

“Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch try outs are this Saturday,” he said, sounding a little regretful, though she couldn’t figure out why.  

“You don’t even play quidditch,” she scoffed, happy to have moved away from the topic of Harry and Ron.  

“Draco does. He’s going for seeker, remember?”

“Oh, of course. He’ll probably get it too - he’s apparently quite good.”

“Mm. Prodigious. You should see him now. He trains practically every morning.”

She thought about the lone flyer she’d seen and wondered if that had been Malfoy. It seemed likely, but she didn’t bring it up. “Ginny asked me to come along, but…” she grimaced. “It’s really not my thing.”

“Really?” Theo snorted sarcastically, turning to look at her from one step ahead. He was still taller than her by a long shot, even then. “I had no idea that you didn’t enjoy quidditch, Granger. It’s not as if you’ve ranted extensively and effusively about how ridiculous you think the whole game is on a number of our patrols this term…”

She punched him on the arm and he just laughed and skipped jauntily down the staircase as he headed back to the Slytherin Dungeons for the night.

“See you tomorrow, Granger,” was all he said as he left, waving jauntily over one shoulder without looking back.  

Hermione didn’t watch him go. Instead, she turned and glared at the Horntail in the painting as she passed, and then stumped back up to Gryffindor tower, feeling oddly conflicted. Patrols weren’t supposed to be this much fun. They were supposed to be sensible and practical, like books, but… then again, books could also be a lot of fun. It had been such a long time since she’d really allowed herself to even dream about anything so flippant as her interest in the opposite sex. Theo’s dimples kept drifting back into her thoughts, and even the silver eyes of Theo’s best friend. Once or twice, when they went soft and even gentle, she’d even thought Malfoy startlingly attractive. He still looked haunted and tired, but he had lost a lot of the hard, jagged edges recently.  

With thoughts of a pair of puzzling Slytherins filling her head, she fell into bed and, for the first time in months, it didn’t even cross her mind to think about setting unnecessary wards. Her head hit the pillow and she fell deeply asleep. 

___

Chapter Five

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

___

writing masterlist | Ao3

[professordrarry]

Taken All Together

Collab fic: Posting in honour of Neville and Harry’s birthdays. Surprising absolutely no one, this got really long. This is part 1 of probably only 2? LOL. 

*any changes in submitted lines were done strictly for contextual consistency and I hope will be forgiven :D*

There was a story within the walls of the Hogwarts, new and yet treated like it was ancient. It was murmured amongst the students, passed in whispers between the staff, and rumoured to have been spread so deeply among the House Elves that it would be passed on for generations. The ghosts didn’t like to talk about it since it often created uncomfortable dividing lines between them. Apparently, the story required you to land on someone’s side, and that made the ghosts — infamous for allegiance to themselves and themselves alone — uncomfortable. 

When he returned to the school to take up his temporary post of Alchemy Professor, Draco was warned by every member of the junior staff to never, ever bring up the story. 

The story of why Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter no longer spoke was, for all intents and purposes, strictly taboo. 

At first, Draco just nodded and accepted the odd pieces of information. He was hardly one to broker peace, given that both men had collectively been teaching at Hogwarts for nearly a decade. He did find it strange to see the two Gryffindor’s so estranged, but he figured he’d get more information before he spoke.

He observed for a week, carefully collecting anecdotal evidence. He quickly realised the story he’d been told was not exaggerated. He watched as the two professors would turn the opposite direction in the corridor to avoid walking past each other. They would sit at opposite ends of the staff table in the dining hall. Longbottom would rarely leave the greenhouses before dusk, and would always look around fervently before returning to his second-floor quarters. 

In other circumstances, Draco likely would have found this quite hilarious; in school, for example, such a display of in-house fighting would have been the perfect fodder for Slytherin dorm betting pools and mockery. 

The unfortunate reality now, however, was that it was impacting Draco’s currently limited social life, and he was very much Not Okay with it. Largely because it was extremely problematic to have your boyfriend locked in a silent battle with one of the few other people their own age within a hundred-mile radius. 

Finally, nearly a month into the term, his feet fully wet and his confidence restored, Draco decided he had enough evidence to confront Harry. He waited until they were in bed; he figured that if it went extremely sour, he would at least have a way to distract him from bodily harm. 

“Harry, darling,” he began quietly. “I’ve, um…I’ve noticed that you and Longbottom seem to be—”

Harry immediately stiffened at his side and huffed out a breath. “Listen, mate, I don’t know what you think you know, but—” 

“Mate,” Draco repeated, deadpan. “Mate.” 

Harry just fixed him with a steely-eyed stare, challenge in the stiffness of his every muscle. Draco sighed. 

“Didn’t you two used to be, I don’t know, friends or whatever? You must know the rumours that swirl about the place about you two,” Draco expounded, ignoring the tightness in Harry’s jaw and blazing forward, borrowing a line from the Gryffindor sensibility that he had begrudgingly admired for a long time. “I just thought we were at the point where…you can tell me this stuff, and everything. Surely, we’ve moved past the awkward half-truths stage.” 

Harry softened slightly and rolled onto his back. “You know we have,” he replied gently. “This is… just complicated.” 

“Ah, yes, because the rest of our relationship has been founded on utter simplicity and clear black-and-white lines.” 

Harry laughed. “Except for the time Hermione hexed you six months ago.” 

“The only notable exception,” Draco replied dryly. 

Harry rolled back over to face him, resting on his arm. “I want to tell you. But. Well, okay, don’t take this the wrong way but you tend to get a bit…jealous.” 

“Jealous.” 

“Sometimes. It’s adorable. Usually.” Harry looked very worried for a moment. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to be one of those times when it’s adorable.” 

Draco took a deep breath. “Listen, Harry, my lovely. We are…older than I like to admit. I think we can handle the fact that we both come from a place in the past. And trust me, the real story can’t be as dramatic as the rumours…” 

Harry chuckled. “Oh. You’d be surprised. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just…not tonight.” 

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” Draco said, sickly sweet. “I love you so much I want to punch you in the face.” 

Harry laughed a little too loudly, and Draco retaliated with a pillow to his face. When they eventually fell asleep, Draco had only just forgotten what had gotten them into this line of conversation. 

Five Years Earlier

“Somehow, I don’t think we’re going to find what we’re looking for here,” Harry teased, poking the last shelf to their left and giggling to himself as the very realistic dildos that were housed there wiggled and shook. 

“I told Hannah that I wasn’t going to be good at this,” Neville insisted, turning an impressive shade of beet red and dropping his head into his hands. 

“Relax, Nev,” Harry insisted, grabbing him by both shoulders and steering him out of the shop. “We just need one that’s a little more party shop and a little less orgy.” Harry smiled apologetically at the scowl his statement produced from the very pretty punk girl at the cash. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he added hastily with a wink. 

“Harry, this is a disaster. I don’t think you understand how much I am hating everything right now.” 

“Neville,” Harry laughed. “Mate. I grew up in a dorm with you. I know exactly how much pain this is causing you. I’m just also finding it hilarious.” 

“That’s because you suck.”

“Only when asked,” he teased, winking at Neville without meaning too. Sometimes, when he was in this mood, the winking got a bit out of control. Neville shot him an interesting look; part glower, part…something else. If he didn’t know better, if it weren’t Neville, he’d assume it was interest

They walked down the highstreet silently for a moment before Harry cleared his throat. 

“Nev,” he said hesitantly. “Erm, you…you’re not…having second thoughts or anything are you?” 

Neville did not immediately reply. Harry froze in the middle of the street, stopping an elderly couple behind him who tisked loudly. 

“Neville,” he urged. 

“I…not second thoughts, nothing that…dramatic. I just. Harry, do you think I’m making a mistake?” 

“What? Of course not, we love Hannah.” 

Neville nodded. “Yeah, no, I know. That’s…that’s not what I mean.” 

“I know,” Harry said gently. “I…maintain my previous offer, you know. If you want to…check. If it would help. If you need it to just be…a thing you check.” 

Neville opened his mouth to speak, closed it again a moment later. Harry decided that maybe, what they both needed, was just action. It was only much later that he would reconsider his decision, here on this high street in Edinburgh, hoping that he wasn’t about to lose his favourite co-worker and a very good friend. 

He stepped forward, took Neville’s hand in his own, pulled him off to the side of the walkway. He pressed them both into the wall, took the chance afforded to him by Neville’s furtive glance around to the crowds nearby. He pressed his lips to Neville’s, carefully. Gently. He waited to be pushed away. Instead, he was drawn closer, a free hand weaving into his hair, a clasped one gripping desperately. 

“Yeah,” Neville said a moment later, his eyes closing tightly. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”  

“Neville,” Harry started. “Neville, it’s nothing. We can forget it ever happened.” Neville just stared at him, pleading in his eyes. Harry backtracked. “Or…or we can just check.” 

“Just,” Neville whispered. “Harry, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but please, just… get away from me, I need a break from all this, I just… please leave.”

Harry nodded once and walked away.

[robotslovedeath]

Why You? | Draco M. x Reader (4)

A/N: finally i finished chapter 4 jsbdbd im sorry it took so long!!! i was busy and all that stuff :')))

A/T = Animal Type

A/N = Animal Name

Word count: 1,031 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Y/N’s been awfully interested in Harry Potter ever since she met him the first day she arrived at Hogwarts. Not that everyone else did, but crushes. What else could she say? It isn’t until Draco, coincidentally crushing on Y/N, spots Potter and her laughing wholeheartedly, like nothing else in the world matters. Frustration hits him unexpectedly, and he tries everything to get him to lure you to him, eventually making you his.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter ? |

Dinner. Your favorite time of the day. Not that it was because of the food but, because you could spend your time talking with your friends without worrying about upcoming classes. Well, you hoped. After the crazy incident with Draco, it wasn't surprising that you didn't want to tell them about it. In fact, no one should know about it.

“I must be dreaming, right? Y/L didn't really do that, did she?”

A Slytherin yelled, looking rather scared. Often they would gossip quietly, but this time? The Slytherins went too far.

“What's that?”

You clear your throat.

“It would be very much appreciated if you didn't talk about me behind my back, Higgs.”

Of course he would spread the ‘rumor’ around now, wouldn't he? It wasn't really a rumor if you thought about it.

Many times you tried to brush off the disgusted looks off of people’s stares, however that didn't usually quite work. Especially how Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at you. They had heard what the people had said.

“Huh, isn’t that Malfoy’s little girlfriend over there?”

His face was hidden with an odd expression. Much to be resembling a mocking one. Maybe trying to look shocked, perhaps? You didn't know.

You didn't mind the bad things they had said about you. In fact, you thought that was the greatest thing that could happen to you. For, you see, you indeed had developed a nasty crush on Draco Malfoy. Great, wasn't it?

~

Soon after dinner, your mind was only focused on: seeing Draco, or studies.

“Y/N, Y/N!”

Hermione called you,

“I’m sorry about Ronald. He doesn't mean that.” Was she serious? Didn't she believe all the talking? “Oh? That's perfectly fine, ‘Mione. But.. can I tell you.. the truth?”

Merlin, you were a fool. “I did kiss him. Actually, he kissed me but, I like him. A lot. He just probably doesn't know that.” She was in shock, although had known for a while. “I kinda figured it out for quite some time, but to talk about this face-to-face is still deemed to be very difficult to take in. I might not just adjust to this.. new attachment yet.”

You laughed, understanding that taking a liking to him would be meeting up with a lot of hate from practically everyone at school. Not to mention his family. They only allow purebloods, don't they? That was fine, you could handle them. That is, until you had figured out a way to do so.

You silently left Hermione and exited the Great Hall. Having not eaten anything, you were beyond ready to have any energy for the remaining night. Not to mention you had survived the day on only a cup of pumpkin juice and one lonely apple. Perhaps not the brightest idea, coming from a witch like yourself. Along the corridors, past the library, there you found yourself back to the classroom. It was under no circumstances that a student should be allowed in one when a class isn't taking place; that is the rule. How come you weren't caught yet?

Strangely enough, your wishes had came true. The abandoned classroom in which you had so casually took a liking to, is now proceeding to become used again. With the bonus of a simple, but strong spell along with it. The door’s locked. Your mind goes blank for a second. However, everything’s alright, and you decide to head back to your dormitory. Even if you could've tried opening it, letting your actions take over you didn't sound like a good idea. Just let yourself slide this time. It's not that big of a deal, is it?

Opposite the classroom was a confused Draco. When did he get here?

“..What do you want?” A wave of sadness crawled over you, taking its oh-so lovely time. “I can't even walk around these halls without someone talking about me. I know it's stupid, but I think it's getting to me, Draco..”

Irritation hit your knees, making you fall to the ground. Your trembling and tears following. “I don't like it.. I don't like it..” You repeated over and over again, frustration gaining your senses as your heartbeat increasing in speed.

Like a giant blanket, he embraced you. Warmth building up and engulfing you with all its power. “Y/N, believe me I didn't ask for any of this. Yet alone, I wasn't aware someone had seen us. If I had known, I would have informed you right away, trust me on that.” He kissed the top of your head, feeling right at home under his touch. You had no idea how he did it. “Y-yeah, I guess so.” Was he no longer a friend figure to you now? You couldn't possibly ask him such a strange question.

“You should head back to your dorm. I don't think anyone would like it if they saw us here.”

In an instant, it was as if he was never there with you. He had left you in such a short matter of time. You didn't even have the time to say goodnight. You consider yourself a disgrace for looking so weak around him. Likewise, Draco was hesitant all that time. He found that your greatest fear was being weak around others, that you couldn't cope with being looked down upon, as revealed by Draco himself. He could sense your disappointment towards yourself, though he didn't say a single word.

It was now 10, the night sky being the clearest you had ever seen it be. You somehow found your head to be poking outside a small window, your dorm being awfully quiet at this time. No one really hung out here right now, so it was a great place to spend some quality time reading. They were usually all in the common room, and you had no problems avoiding them until bed. Your A/T was next to you, examining you very carefully. It had been doing that for quite some time now, and you had no clue as to why.

“A/N, what's up with you?” It just blinked, and you ignored it for now.

This was one hell of a day.

[gnarf]

Hey there! I had to study for a test yesterday, it was boring as hell and I got really, REALLY frustrated.

So I took a break and wrote some Drarry for you.

Thank you @drarryismymuse for the great beta and your lovely comments! I wouldn't enjoy this so much without you 😁💜

Have fun!

------

Warnings for: studying, fluff, a drooling Ron and something smutty(ish) against the end of it

Pairings: Drarry, Romione and mentioned Pansy/Ginny

Distractions

By gnarf (I hate studying)

“I quit. I can't and I won't do this anymore! This stuff makes no sense to me!”

“Don't be stupid Harry, just sit down and learn, it's not that hard.”

“Hermione I mean it, I won't do this. It's not even something we'll need after we finish Hogwarts!”

“So tell me, mister, what will you do if you quit school now just because you don't want to learn this? We both know you'll get bored in about a week and then you’ll have to do a shit job, like working in muggle customer service.”

“I could do that. Or, I'll become a stripper; something like that. As long as I don't have to read any more stories about Oscar the Brave who killed two trolls and married five women, or was it the other way around? Who cares! Fuck ‘Mione, we nearly killed a troll in our first year here! Nobody wants to read about things like that!”

Harry had really tried to stay focused on the task, but learning was hard if it was for a boring subject like History of Magic. Hermione had finished her assignment a week ago and now she tried to help him with his but it was a lost cause. It's nowhere near interesting enough to go through all this stress without losing the last bit of what is left of his mind.

To make it even worse, Ron was drooling on his lap at the moment because he (just like Hermione) had finished his assignment ages ago and therefore was using the study time sleeping next to Harry on the couch. Over the last thirty minutes he had slumped deeper and deeper into the couch and his head landed in Harry's lap.

“Don't be dumb Potter, you can't be a stripper. You can't dance; therefore, no one would pay money to see you.”

Harry's head shot around to find Malfoy's smirking face in the entrance of their shared eighth year common room.

“As if you know anything about how I dance, ferret.”

“Well I clearly remember your dancing skills in fourth year, and even if you’ve improved your looks since then, I'm sure you still can't dance,” he said as he sat down on Harry's other side, “Hermione have you finished Ancient Runes? I need some input and was hoping I could borrow your stuff for it.”

“Sure Draco, but first you have to help me with Harry here because I won't let him become a stripper.”

“What a shame, I would love to see that fiasco.”

“No, you would only love to see him half naked. The fiasco is a bonus,” Hermione grinned at him.

The friendship between the two of them that formed in the beginning of their eighth year was something no one had expected, and to make it even worse, the two of them had since then paired together to mock him shamelessly. But Harry had no intention to lose the argument this time, especially when it came to Malfoy. Malfoy, who gets along with his friends, always makes him laugh, and looks rather spectacular if one could say so.

“You just have to tell me if you want to see me naked, love. You know I would always prefer that over studying,” he winked over at the blonde, and saw with great satisfaction a blush creeping to his face.

“You won't use me as an excuse to not do your work, Potter.”

“What a shame… I really hoped you would teach me how to dance if you're so good at it.”

Hermione just rolled her eyes at them before she looked back at Draco, “my stuff for ancient runes is in the top drawer of my desk. Go and fetch it yourself, you're not of any help here.”

“Thank you, Hermione. Have fun studying, Potter.”

Malfoy stood up to make a run for the dormitories and Harry slumped back on the couch with a loud groan, “well if stripping isn't a choice either we'd better try to get this stuff into my brain.”

Hermione huffed, but picked up the book again to ask him useless questions about Oscar the Brave.

-------

Friday came and Harry had finished his assignment on time, thanks to Hermione.

It was night and he was alone in the dorm he shared with Ron. The other two were, without fail, in a dark corner of Hogwarts at the moment and Harry used this time as he always did, by resting on his bed and reading the newest Quidditch weekly without anyone nagging that he should study; until a quiet knock on his door startled him.

Harry pointed his wand at the door, swinging it open to reveal his guest.

Surprised to see Malfoy there he couldn't move for a second. Malfoy wore a crisp, white button down shirt and black trousers that fit like they were spelled on him; his hair was slightly messy and he had a faint blush on his face. Harry, on the other hand, wore ratty old joggers and one of his old shirts that was slightly too small for him, he didn't even have on matching socks at the moment.

“Sorry to disturb you, Potter. But I'm bored and Pansy abandoned me for your ex-girlfriend again. Can I come in?”

“Uhm, yeah sure.”

Malfoy came in and closed the door behind him before he walked over to Harry's bed where he nudged Harry’s feet away to make some space for him to sit down.

“Finished your essay then?” he grinned at Harry.

“Yes, my distraction fled to the dormitories if I remember correctly,” Harry huffed back.

“What a shame. You should have looked for another distraction then, Potter. You can't tell me you couldn't find anyone else to volunteer.”

Watching Malfoy as he sat there not quite looking at him while he talked, Harry had the feeling that they left behind their harmless flirting and that whatever he said was essential to what would happen next with them. Whatever they were now, it was about to change.

Using his whole Gryffindor bravery, Harry took a deep breath and looked at the other man, “what if I don't want another distraction?”

Malfoy's eyes snapped up to look at him with a glint, “then I would call you a fool, Potter.”

“Yes. But I could be your fool as long as you are my distraction, Draco.” Harry couldn't help but to grin a bit at the stunned expression on the blonde’s face.

“You don't mean that.”

The hurt look that was now on Malfoy's face was all it took for Harry to sit up and reach for his hand with shaking fingers. Something he wanted to do for ages but never dared to.

“I meant what I said. Why shouldn't I?”

“Because you are you, and I am I, Potter. It doesn't make any sense, you could do better,” he said as he entwined their fingers carefully.

Harry leaned over to Malfoy, brushing his lips against the soft ones of the other man and whispered, “I don't care.”

He was about to pull his head back when Malfoy closed the gap between them with a feverish kiss - and Harry couldn't hold back anymore. His hands moved to Malfoy’s hair, just like he had wanted to do for the last few months, feeling the soft strands, and tugged slightly at them.

Malfoy gasped and Harry used that to deepen their kiss, and Malfoy let him, pressing himself against Harry until they lost their balance and tumbled backwards so that he laid on top of Harry now.

One hand still in his hair, Harry began to explore Malfoy's back - heart beating fast, he carefully moved his shaking hand under Malfoy’s shirt to caress the soft skin there.

Malfoy's hands were clutching at his ratty old shirt as if he would die if he let go of him. They stayed like this for several minutes, only moving if they needed some air.

Shifting a bit, he suddenly felt Malfoy's hard prick pressed against his own and they both let out a gasp.

He felt Draco's hand move under his shirt and as Harry moved his hips up once more the other man pulled away from their kiss with red cheeks to look at him.

“You don't have to study right now, do you?” he asked with a smile that short-circuited Harry's brain for a moment.

“No, I'm free right now. What do you have in mind?” Harry said as his brain began to work again.

“Well, someone told me I just have to say something if I want to see him naked. I think I would like to accept that offer now, love.”

“Are you sure about that?” Harry grinned back.

Draco pressed down at Harry so that he could feel his hard length pressing against his own again, “Yes, I'm really sure about that.”

With a grin, and a word-and-wandless spell, Harry vanished their clothes and pulled Draco back into a kiss, shuddering at the feeling of Draco's naked body on top of his.

“Bloody show off,” Draco gasped against his mouth and Harry couldn't help but laugh a bit before he kissed him again with pure want.

After that it was only messy and aimless fumbling and rutting against each other and Harry felt his orgasm build up too soon.

“Draco… I’m going to…” he gasped.

“Yes, come for me, Harry. Please.”

That was all it took and Harry came between them with a loud groan, shortly followed by Draco and a whispered “Harry” that was nearly too quiet for him to hear.

Draco slumped down on him and they both tried to catch their breath. A few minutes later Draco rolled off of him to fetch his wand from where he had dropped it and cast a few cleaning charms over them before he laid down next to Harry and pulled the blanket over them.

Harry pulled Draco close to him and kissed him again, this time softer and full of promises for their future.

“Stay?”

“As long as you’ll have me, Harry.”

[my-darling-luna]

Glitch Chapter 2

Glitch Masterlist

Summary- After three years at Hogwarts, Scarlett Dean thought that she was ready to take on another year. I mean how hard could it be, right? Wrong. So very wrong. Things turn sour when secrets are spilled and friends are made with those who she was told to stay away from.

--

  "I can't believe that it's here already." Lyra mumbled to Scarlett as the two made their way down to their dates together.

"I can't believe that Lukas had the guts to ask you out." Lukas was a quiet and nervous Durmstrang boy that had asked Lyra out two days before the big ball.

"He's actually really out going when you talk to him more than once." Lyra pointed out to Scarlett as the two of them carefully walked down the stone steps to decrease the chance of falling down in their heels. "Speaking of confusion, why did you say yes to Cormac? He's a complete tosser."

"Oh stop, please. I've already gotten the 'Cormac is a jerk' talk three times already from you and at least once from everyone else I told. He's...sweet; just a little misunderstood, maybe."

"Stop making excused for boys being jerks, they don't deserve it. Just admit that he's an awful bloke and move on." Scarlett watched as Lukas took Lyra's hand once they reached the bottom of the staircase. "See you in there!" She leaned in close and whispered in Scarlett's ear. "Remember what I said." The couple walked away with their arms hooked with each other. Standing on her tip toes to look over the crowd, Scarlett could barley see the edges of people's hair in the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Hey Lettie, you ready to go in?" Scarlett turned around to face the voice when it clicked what he had said.

"Don't call me Lettie." Cormac didn't even waver as he steered Scarlett to into the decorated hall.

Scarlett was sure that she almost froze when she walked into the Great Hall. She could feel her eyes widen as she took in every detail, from the glittering snowflakes to the ice sculptures in the corner which she was sure would be broken by the end of the night. The punch bowls were even in what looked like bowls made of ice and with cups that matched.

"You coming?" Scarlett jumped at Cormac's whisper in her ear. She was sure that it was supposed to sound sexy, but it rather scared her half to death.

"Yeah...yes, of course." She moved to the left side of the hall with Cormac as the two waited for the four champions and their dates to walk in. Padma and her date, Ron Weasley as Scarlett recognized him, moved to stand next to her.

"Isn't this just brilliant?" Padma squealed as the two girls hugged.

"Yes it is." Scarlett lowered her voice to whisper in her friend's ear. "What in the hell is Ron wearing?" Padma pulled back and gave a small shudder.

"I have no idea, but-" Padma was cut off by cheering and the large oak doors opening to let in the four champions. "Is that Hermione Granger?"

"With Viktor Krum?" Scarlett didn't realize that Cormac had, at some point, slithered his arm around her waist and tightened it at her question.

"No way, it can't be." Ron seemed to be convincing himself more than anyone else.

If an hour passed, or two, or three, Scarlett had no idea. The Weird Sisters came on maybe three songs ago and she couldn't even think straight with the volume of the singing and screaming from the crowd. She had previously pulled Padma away from the brooding Ron and Harry to come dance with her, her friends, and their dates. They spent the time since jumping around, laughing, and talking with each other before another song ended. As the cheers began to die down, Scarlett managed to pull out of Cormac's grip and tell everyone that she was going to take a breather. Pushing out of the crowd, she began to walk over to the tables when someone blind sided her.

"Bloody hell." She mumbled under her breath, steadying herself on her heels.

"Oh...um sorry." Scarlett looked at the boy her ran into her and immediately knew who he was. You were probably stupid or a muggle if you had no idea of the story of Harry Potter.

"It's okay, I guess. This was crazy cliche, like something that you would see in a Disney movie." She rambled and he nodded, his eyes flashing in recognition.

"You're muggleborn?"

"My mum is a muggle, don't know what my dad was." He didn't flash a sympathy smile, knowing from experience how much that made everything worse so he kept it in. "Don't feel sorry. I can't be sorry for something I don't know about. Anyways..." Harry awkwardly scanned the room.

"I- what's your name?" Scarlett barked a laugh which made Harry look at her with a weird look.

"I've sat across from you in Transfiguration for four years and you still don't know my name?" Harry flushed.

"Sorry, if it makes you feel better, I don't pay much attention in that class."

"I'm Scarlett Dean."

"Harry Potter."

"I know." Things soon became more awkward as time went by and Scarlett stepped back towards the group of students dancing. "Well I'm gonna go. Nice meeting you, Harry Potter." She turned around and shimmed her way back to her date and her friends to keep dancing.

"Hey mate, you done getting something to drink?" Ron asked from the table that they were sitting at and he began his walk back to get some punch.

***

    "I don't know if it's because I'm hung over or that the firewhiskey was switched out with Amortentia, but I never noticed how fit Draco was." Scarlett pressed the back of her hand to Lisa's forehead.

    "I thought you had something going on with Zacharias Smith?" Lisa pushed Scarlett's hand away from her forehead.

"Yeah, there is, but that doesn't mean that I can't look." Her brown eyes scanned the Slytherin boy up and down.

"Maybe you should go back to the dorms instead of going to class. You seem to be going through something." Mandy offered, but Lisa shook her head.

"I'm fine, I just think that looks wise, he's handsome, I mean, look at his hair." The five girls strained their heads to the boy turning to go into the opposite corridor.

"I'm thinking that his hair cannot be real. He really decided to pull out his four bottles of Sun In."

Lisa rolled her eyes at Padma's explanation. "Maybe this the push to get new friends."

"Oh please," everyone turned into the Transfiguration class and took their normal seats, "the only other person that would like to talk about Draco's hair is Pansy Parkinson and I wouldn't mess with that even if I was being payed four hundred galleons." Scarlett high fived Lyra under their two-seater desk. "Any letter from your mum?" Lyra whispered to Scarlett once all of their friends and classmates were not paying attention.

"No, but I'm not awfully surprised. I reckon that she's gonna send me something begging for forgiveness or something like that."

     "I'm still staying the summer with you, right?" Lyra tried to sound confident, but her voice wavered at the thought of being homeless for the summer. The Zabini family kicked out their only daughter through a letter on the day after the sorting. Lyra's pride caused her not to say anything to anyone about it until two weeks before the end of term. When she mentioned it to Scarlett, her friend refused to leave without her at her side for the rest of the summer. She sent a letter to her mother asking about it, but her mother said that she would be in America for the summer so it didn't matter. Every summer was the same, starting and ending with Scarlett's mum in America with another man that she met by her side.

"Yeah, of course." Scarlett clicked out of her thoughts. "I would never leave you alone." Lyra nodded, fear still engraved in her eyes at the thought of being homeless for a whole summer.

Padma opened her mouth when Harry Potter walked passed them and smiled right at the girl with blue eyes. "No way." She whispered, her dark brown eyes twinkling in the winter sun.

Lisa winked at Scarlett before she grabbed the girl's hand. "So...when did that happen?"

"Nothing happened." She lightly pulled her hand out of Lisa's firm grip. "We just ran into each other at the ball and introduced ourselves."

"I'm calling that you two are going to start something." Mandy stuck her nose in, more than excited to watch a romance that didn't include her. She didn't say it out loud, but she was very obviously scared of romantic relationships.

"Like I said, I just introduced myself, plus, you guys know that I fancy Cormac and we have something going there." The rest of the girls groaned.

"We told you that we don't like him." Lyra said, her protective nature jumped out in her voice.

"You guys just don't know him well enough. I'm sure that once you lot meet up, you'll be fine with him." Scarlett tried to console herself more than her friends, but it went unnoticed by the fake gagging group. "Oh come off it."

[vesper-the-chaos-gremlin]

Music is the Key to my Soul ( Drarry Secret Santa Gift 2)

Music is the Key to my Soul

I’m fine, I have to be. That’s what ran through Draco’s head every morning, and every second of every day. It didn’t matter what happened, he was fine.  It was with that mentality that he went to his last class of the day. It wasn’t that Draco didn’t like his classes or his school. It was just that he hated the amount of people and boredom that filled his ‘luxurious’ private boarding school. If it were up to Draco, he would go to a normal public high school taught by normal teachers and have normal grades with normal classes, not mention have normal friends who did normal things. But nothing in Draco’s life was ever decided by him so he was used to it. Instead, he went to a very prestigious school with very sophisticated teachers, and wealthy snobs for classmates, with the weirdest, most advanced classes on the face of the earth, topping it all off with the best grades. Yes, Draco was the best student to ever grace the halls of The Mattiazzi Academy of the Elite Gifted and Talented, or so his teachers said.  Because sure Draco had perfect grades, and sure he was in almost every club offered, and sure all of his classes were advanced, and yeah he volunteered most of his time, and he became a model for everyone else, and of course, he did all of these wonderful things. But that didn’t mean he liked it, or even notice it until that fateful competition.

It was in the middle of January 28th when the school was notified of the competition and mere hours later that Draco was taking his free period to practice. It wasn’t that he wanted to exactly, it was just that he had to, knowing that his parents would find out soon. It would make them satisfied to know that he could do things on his own. For his first piece, he was going to play Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 15 in b-flat major obviously on the piano, for his second piece he would play the Bartók Viola Concerto on his viola, and he still had to decide on his third piece. The only reason Draco knew what he was going to do, was because he wasn’t an indecisive person, unlike his best friend Blaise Zabini. Blaise would also be performing along with their other friends Pansy, Theodore, Daphne, and Astoria. Only about 5 or 6 other classmates of theirs would be performing though.

“I am extremely sorry Blaise, but please pass on the word. I will not be able to hang out until this competition ends. I really am truly sorry. I just- my parents will be really mad if I stop practicing. Don’t roll your eyes at me, don’t you remember what happened last time I lost a competition? Exactly,” Draco started to his best friend apologetically. It wasn’t his fault that his parents had such high expectations. Draco truly did hate blowing off his friends like this. Blaise just rolled his eyes, huffed quietly and walked away, his tailored uniform sweeping behind him. Leaving Draco alone in the dull, grey hall.

Frowning heavily, Draco walked back to his dorm in silence. Draco’s dorm was different than all of the rest. It had a king sized bed against the back wall that was covered in forest green bedding that had really pretty designs in a pretty pastel purple. His walls were the same purple color with tons of different band posters covering them. Next, to his bed, he had a white wooden nightstand. In the far left corner of the room stood his white desk with his dark brown closet next to it. His desk was covered in papers, books, and makeup. While his closet was full of very expensive, custom-made, clothes and his electric guitar. And lastly in the far right corner was his bookshelf and waste basket. Setting his school bag down, Draco sat on his bed and pulled out his phone, flipping to his camera. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out four items, a lip ring, and an eyebrow ring, and two earrings.  He carefully put them in and grabbed his electric guitar. Setting it up, he softly strummed a couple chords before he had an epiphany, he suddenly knew what he was going to do for his third performance.

However, what Draco didn’t know was that a lonely public schoolboy by the name of Harry Potter would change his world upside down and help him do the things he wanted to. Little did he know that he would finally be able to free himself from the negativity and become the happy carefree person he wanted to be.

Finally, after months and months of waiting, and practicing, and getting better, as well as lying, scheming, and doing all sorts of other devious, no good things, Draco was ready for the competition. The competition was also ready for him, or so the judges thought. It was after the first round that Draco and Harry met. It started out with Harry calling 5 SOS, one of Draco’s favorite bands, trash. Then it escalated into a heated debate about the different types of music genres and bands. You see they both had very different tastes in music. Harry preferred pop, country, rap, hip=hop, R&B, and classical, whereas Draco preferred anything punk, rock, metal, indies, contemporary, jazz, and blues. The only thing they had in common was Broadway musicals. But even then they fought over which musical they thought was the best.

This debate, however, caused them both to do pretty poorly in the second round. Draco had made a whopping 3 mistakes, and Harry made 6. Blaming each other, they got into another argument. Which led to Draco’s parents being called out to ease the tension. And that did nothing but fuel it even more. In the end, Draco left, muttering about preparing for the third round. Leaving his outfit in a sports bag, Draco snuck out of the changing room and into the announcer's box. Silently, and quickly, he changed the name of his performance and left.  He then set up the different lights he needed, all without being caught. Waiting until there were only two people in front of him, Draco finally changed into his last outfit, and put his makeup on, whispering to the stage crew to dim the lights right before he went out.

He went out in a black leather leotard with silver pointe shoes, his black leather jacket, and his electric guitar. He basically looked like an emo ballerina. He started his song with a strong riff and continued on letting the music capture his emotion. He didn’t even think once about where his feet went, they just did. He looked so graceful yet so hardcore the judges were astounded. Never had they seen such kind of talent before.  But as his song ended it became more of a classical tune, soft, and sweet, before picking up again, only to end. And for that performance, and for the first time in his life, Draco received a standing ovation.

But when he exited the stage he was met with the sight of two angry faces, his mom, and dad. But before he could get a word in his dad opened his mouth, “ Young man, I am so disgusted with you! How dare you embarrass me out there in front of a crowd in a public place for that matter!?! You are a no good, useless little brat who doesn’t know when to stop! I paid all of this money for you, I give you food and a house. I gave you the clothes on your back, I treated you as my son, like I should, and this is how you repay me? By going out there, dressed like a fag, and playing that garbage? Just wait until you get home, you’ll wish you were never born!” This honestly didn’t phase Draco, not one bit as he was used to it. But it was very concerning to Harry, who had heard the yelling and had come to investigate. Just as he was about to leave, Draco spoke up.

“You don’t think I already wish I wasn’t born? You don’t think that I know that the only reason I’m here is because of you? Well, guess what? REality check, I already knew that. I also already knew how much of a screw up I am! You ingrained that into me, literally. And about when we get home, what exactly are you going to do to me old man? I’ve seen it all, so there isn’t anything new that you can do. Besides, if you kill me you’ll be doing me a favor since I’d rather be dead than here with you. Also, what exactly are you going to do, put me in the hospital again? Also, don’t you ever dare use that vile word around me again. I am gay and proud. There’s nothing you can do about it, nor is there anything wrong with it. I am a human as well, and if you can’t see that then you are blind, and don’t deserve to be my father!” By the end, Draco had tears streaming down his face, which prevented him from noticing the hand that came to strike him with a mighty blow. Thankfully, Harry got there just in time, saving Draco from a terrible slap. Growling slightly, the Malfoy patriarch demanded that the teen remove his and go run along. Harry, being the stubborn person he is obviously refused.

This led to him getting into a fight with the elder Malfoy male.  It didn’t go on long before the stage crew called for places for the awards. Thanking Harry, and quickly resolving the tension and hate between the two, Draco fixed himself up and got ready for the announcements.  Happily, Draco wound up in first place with Harry as number two. And it was only after this that the two boys became friends, and exchanging numbers.

Months later, and the boys were dating since they lived across town from each other. Both of their parents’ disliked their relationship, however, there was nothing they could do about it. The two boys were madly in love, and they had matching tattoos, as well as matching necklaces to prove it. Draco had a key that said, ‘Music is…’ while Harry had a heart that said, ‘the key to my soul.’

Again this is for @necocoxeiji

http://drarryexchange.tumblr.com/