#plus size!slytherin!reader

[deadghosy]

Hiii

Could you write slytherin with plus size reader who is insecure? (Strech marks, belly, big thighs etc)

If you're comfortable writting it if not feel free to ignore 🖤

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

A/N: now I’m not plus size, so I hope I wrote this well. And OF COURSE I FEEL COMFORTABLE TO WRITE THIS! I have stretch marks and big thighs myself, and wear them with pride and I hope others can too also! Love all my plus size followers! 🫶🏾

Edit: idk if you meant a single Slytherin boys or you meant them all 😭 so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want but I included all the Slytherin boys here. 💗 hope you like them anon!

Tom Riddle

Tom honestly loves your stretch marks

So when you feel insecure about them, he will always tell you stories about these beautiful cracks he seen years ago.

He had hope it made you see your own stretch marks as the cracks he has seen in their own beautiful way

He loves you and your body. You are your own person

Mattheo Riddle

Would fight anyone who made you insecure

But if it was you who made yourself insecure. He’s kissing whatever made you insecure. He loves your body! He loves you!

So please, you being insecure is normal. But it makes him sad how you can’t see how beautiful you are in your own way

"You're perfect the way you are."

Draco Malfoy

Well make anyone’s school life in Hogwarts hell so easily if they try to make you feel bad about your body.

Will always compliment you on the days you feel the worse

He will shut down anyone who dares to speak about your body. Not on his watch any so.

Worships your body as if you raised the stars and moon. He loves you so much

"It's not easy to love yourself when the world seems to be constantly telling you that you're not good enough. But I believe in you." He says kissing your lips.

Blaise Zabini

He makes you lay down when you are insecure, he makes sure he is taking care of you.

He can’t have his baby being all down? No he can’t.

He’s literally making you have a self care day.

"You're beautiful and worthy of love, no matter what others may think or say." He says running his fingers through your hair.

Theodore Nott

Just like Mattheo, he’s beating anyone’s ass that makes you make you uncomfortable about your body

But he literally will kiss the floor on what you walk on. He loves you so much, so if you are insecure he’s kissing your belly and telling how unique you are in your way

He really is smooth and careful of his words

He can’t help but love you all🫶🏾

Lorenzo Berkshire

If you insecure out of now where. He’s immediately doing anything to make you happen all over again

He hates how you stare at your thick thighs with a look in your eyes

He can’t help but lay between your legs and say “squash me, pour all of the negativity onto me” so you just laugh. And you did since it was dumb and stupid. But then you watched a movie. He still watched over you carefully.

He is always comfortable with you. So he hopes you get comfortable in your own body. 💗

[eccentricallygothic]

Pairing: Gryffindor!Steve Rogers | Slytherin!Reader.

Warning(s): Rough p-in-v, d/s dynamics, unprotected sex, doggy style, name calling, spanking, hate sex vibes, daddy kink, degradation, hair pulling, meanie Steve but we love it, allusion to choking.  

What happens when a dominant Gryffindor and a relatively submissive Slytherin come together?

While the answer could be one of many things and could range from one extreme to the other, brutal sex qualifies as a fact.

And as Y/n was being obliterated into one of the heavy wooden desks of Classroom 3C, she would agree.

Her chin was propped against the table as she was forced to stare ahead, arms locked together on the small of her back and being held in place by the primary subject of all her ire and well guised fancy as he pounded his cock balls deep into her hot cavern with each thrust. 

The Slytherin's teeth chattered against the wand of her Gryffindor owner, having been ordered to keep it there until he was done venting his frustration out on her weeping pussy that clenched every time their skins collided into contact. 

It was Steve's way of getting her to keep her brat mouth shut during a lesson in discipline, as he liked to call it. And it was also a convenient excuse to get her in even more trouble if the wand fell out of her mouth regardless of the reason.

The girl's nostrils were flared, cheeks flushed and eyes teary as she struggled to breathe normal, the welts that her lover had left on her delicate swells with his wand that possessed an unforgiving sturdiness to it pressing against the cold wood she was bent over, the sound of squelches of flesh violating flesh and squeaking of skin sliding over the desktop loud in the large room.

"Such a sly little slut, aren't you, baby?" Steve grunted as he connected his palm to one of her nether cheeks harshly. "Using those pretty little tits to distract her Daddy" now he snatched a handful of her hair in his hand and pulled until her body curved backwards and lifted off the desk. "Just so inherently wicked, aren't we?" His voice was a snarl.

Competition was competition.

Y/n refused to lose a game of Quidditch just because her lover was among the competitors. 

It was not her fault if Steve -much typical to his house, if she did say so- was too weak to resist and look away. 

But apparently, the Gryffindor captain did not share the Slytherin seeker's thoughts on the matter. 

The girl wanted to shoot back an insult, she really did. But the wand between her teeth and memories of what happened when she let it fall during these sessions forced her to keep her words to herself and the wand in place.

"That's right, keep that bratty little cocksucker quiet" letting go of her hair to allow her to collapse back over the desk, Steve felt sweat broke out on his temples when he felt his high nearing, aware that his lover was close as well due to how her slit was expanding to greedily accommodate him for the cumulation of as much pleasure as possible.

"Dirty fuckin' girl, flaunting that ass all over the field for everyone to see" Y/n's eyes fluttered close as he gave two spanks to each of her cheeks in delayed succession, hitting her spongy bundle of sensitive nerves with each thrust. "Is that a common practice in your silly little house, huh baby? Acting like cockstarved little whores?" Her toes curled and eyes clenched shut as her orgasm vibrated through her being, the intensity causing vertigo in her ears and hypothermia within her feet that dangled above the ground due to her position under him. 

The tension in the Slytherin's chest grew now, and then it was too much to bear. Arching her back to withstand the force of her strong orgasm, Y/n let herself get carried away by the powerful orgasm and– alas! 

Steve's wand rolled out from between her teeth and slipped past her lips, landing on the flat desktop with devastatingly heavy clicks as it bounced in its place. 

"Cumming without my permission and letting the wand fall…" Steve tutted as he thrusted into her harder, yanking her up by the hold he had on her arms. "Oh, baby. What am I going to do with you?" He whispered in her ear as he wrapped his free hand around her throat once she was up and trembling against his chest.

MASTERLIST

.

As a Slytherin who has a bittersweet relationship with Steve, smash.

[asapphiccrow]

Evanescence

Mattheo Riddle x Plus size! Reader

No warnings!

Hello everyone this is basically the introduction of my new Harry Potter series. I'm new to writing but have always wanted to give it a shot. This chapter is pretty short but I promise in the future they will be longer, I just really wanted to get this out

I hope everyone enjoys!

900 words

Ravenclaw or Slytherin 

I stood amongst the other children in the great hall. Watching in attention as the older witch, Professor Mcgonagall, called names after names to the sorting hat. My heart was pounding in my chest so rapidly, I was afraid it might jump out. Most would’ve been overjoyed when receiving their acceptance letter, but not me. True I’ve always dreamed about being a powerful witch and everyone always told me I was quite smart for my age but I still did not wanna be here. There were just too many people. I’d never been good with people, always struggling to make connections, and yet here I was. 

“It’ll be ok, Bea” Luna Lovegood got closer, grabbing my hand with a light squeeze in an attempt to comfort me, her anxious cousin.  

Now Luna wasn’t truly my cousin, my sister and I were adopted by Pandora Lovegood and Xenoplilius Lovegood at the ages of 6 and 8. But what truly defines family, if not the people you love and seek comfort in. So by that definition we were true cousins.

“Luna Lovegood”, Professor Mcgonagel announced.

Luna let go of my hand, sparring me one last glance before she made her way through the horde of little witches and wizards to the sorting hat. The moment she sat down the hat was quick to yell, “RAVENCLAW”. She was a raven claw, just like my sister, just like her mother, just like her father, and just like my mother. My eyes followed Luna's figure as she walked to the RavenClaw table, my sister, Honey, embracing her in a loving hug while all the other Ravenclaws cheered for their new member. I see Honey looking back at me, that dorky yet angelic smile plastered on her face. She has had no doubt in her mind I’d be a Ravenclaw, “Just like mum, and grandma, and me”, she’d tell me. I was never sure though. 

“Bea Holloway”, the older witch called my name.

I stood frozen in place for a second, looking back at my sister one more time. She returned my glance, giving me an encouraging smile and a little head nod. I walked forward through the remaining children, moving with my head down to hide away from all the curious eyes in the room. I sat down hesitantly making it to the chair and that hauntingly creepy hat, seriously it's freaky. Once I sat down, Mcgonagall gave me a small smile of reassurance, no doubt feeling how anxious I was, she then placed the sorting hat on my head. It felt like an eternity of sitting and waiting, sitting and waiting, sitting and waiting. Until finally. “SLYTHERIN”.

What. The. Fuck.

I was screaming internally. I looked toward my sister, she still had that encouraging smile, but I could tell this one was fake. She was sad? disappointed? scared? I really couldn't tell.

None the less I made my way to the slytherin table. They weren’t as cheerful as the other tables. Though they did greet me as openly as other tables, I suppose that's a plus. A boy, with short dark brown and chocolatey eyes offered me a seat next to him and his friends, introducing himself as Blaise Zabini. Then a boy with slicked back light blonde hair and a cocky smile pipped up, “Malfoy, Draco Malfoy”. 

Weird, I thought to myself. 

“Im Pansy Parkinson”, a girl with shoulder length wavy black hair and bangs spoke, flashing me a comforting smile

She seems nice

Next a boy with dirty blonde to light brown hair, “I'm Lorenzo Berkshire, but you can just call me Enzo”. He flashed a dimply smile and a wink.

Oh, he’s cute

“I’m Theodore Nott” this boy had light brown hair with the ice blue eyes, “and this is this Mattheo”, the blue eyes boy continued, nodding to a boy with onyx colored eyes, dark brown colors, and the cutest singular dimple

Now he’s cute

“What's your name?” Blaise said, directing everyone's attention to me.

I stuttered out, “Bea Holloway”. The curlied headed boy held eye contact with me as I spoke. Looking into his deep onyx eyes was like a trance, one I didn’t wanna break.

Then as soon as we got sorted into our houses, though for me it felt like an eternity, it was over. Finally time to go to our dorms, the pack of slytherin first years followed our house prefect up the ever changing and ever confusing stairs. 

Finding my dorm along with all the other slytherin girls, I found out quickly that I was lucky enough to be put with someone I already met, Pansy Parkinson. She was equally as ecstatic, if not more, to be roommates with someone she already met as well. Our other roommate was a girl named Phelia Pierce, she seems nice I suppose. 

As the sun finally set and the moon engulfed the night skin, we had all settled into our new beds and rooms for the next 7 years. It once again downed on me, the fact I’d be here with the same people for the next 7 years, but it didn’t scare me as much. I thought about the people I met today, I barely knew them but they already seemed so familiar. 

I think Honey was right, I think I’ll be ok. 

Please let me know if you guys have any criques or anything. constructive criticism is always welcome, just be nice about it.

[sundrop-writes]

Downhill

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

I’ve never spent a moment loving anyone but you.

And maybe that’s just something people say - but I hope it’s the truth.

Summary:

Draco knows his place in the world. He is a Malfoy, he is Pureblood. He is supposed to marry, carry on the Pureblood line. He is supposed to do everything that his parents would - including killing, if it's what his Dark Lord wishes.

Draco Malfoy is not supposed to hesitate. He is not supposed to feel fear. He is not supposed to have room in his heart for fondness, or even love. Not even when it comes to his bartered and bought fellow Pureblood fiancee.

Love is nothing but a weakness. And Malfoys are not weak.

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage/Hesitant Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Half-Blood Prince.

Word Count: 20,100

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

This is meant to be a standalone oneshot, but it was written as a prequel to the fic My Bleeding Heart. Because the other fic is chronologically second, you won't be missing anything if you read this one first, but if you have read it before, then this one ties in nicely and informs more of the emotions between the characters.

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic is equal parts smut and emotional angst; this fic does technically take place around Christmas (with the Slug Club Christmas Party being the biggest signal of that), but Christmas is not a huge overarching theme or presence in the fic if you don't celebrate or don't like Christmas; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; implications of the reader being fat/plus-sized (which happens with a lot of my fics); it is mentioned that the reader is wearing a dress and high heels to the party; the reader is a Slytherin; the reader is a Pureblood (and for the sake of the fic, I made up a random 'important' Pureblood family that she is from, but because she wasn't raised by them, she goes by a difference surname that can just be your literal actual surname); the reader is an orphan and never actually knew her Pureblood parents; this fic DOES use Y/N; the reader is called 'brilliant' and comes off as very intelligent and skilled with magic (skilled enough to get into the Slug Club); Draco and the reader are in an arranged marriage for the sake of carrying on the Pureblood lineage, and it is discussed that the reader was 'bought' for Draco (a very large dowry was paid) (during the course of the fic, they are only engaged and not yet married); most of this is written from Draco's perspective and features self loathing, emotionally stunted Draco; jealous!Draco - Draco hears that the reader was talking to Harry and gets upset; mentions of the reader being left to the Malfoys by a neglectful godmother; I know there is debate about whether it's canon or not, but in this fic Draco's parents are abusive toward him - his father much more so and his mother is more of a neglectful bystander, and there is a lot of themes in this fic about Draco's trauma surrounding that and how he starts taking his first steps to break free from his abusers (this fic implies that Draco has been physically and emotionally abused by his father, as well as being severely emotionally neglected by both his parents); the reader character in this fic is also abused by the Malfoys when living with them - including an incident where she is hit by Lucius Malfoy and has her hand smashed into broken glass; an incident is described where Lucius casts a spell that chokes Draco (briefly) with the intention of physically punishing him, and the reader stops the spell; Lucius calls the reader 'slut' and 'whore' as insults; mentions of house elves and elf 'slavery' (feels like a warning I'm putting in here specifically for Hermione but I know people get upset about this stuff now lmao); descriptions of dead animals - a bird is killed while being transported through the not yet working Vanishing Cabinet; mentions of canon deaths (Cedric Diggory); mentions of 'Death Eater culture' - discrimination, violence against muggleborns, blood purity, etc.; discussion of Draco's mission to kill Dumbledore (and his mission to help the Death Eaters break into Hogwarts) and the stress that it causes him.

In his internal narration, Draco calls the reader 'naive' and 'innocent', but this is not a statement about the reader's level of sexual or romantic experience (the reader character is NOT A VIRGIN in this), this is a statement about the reader's level of experience with violence and death (and how Draco feels a need to protect her from being corrupted by the dark forces in his life); Draco grabs the reader's arm (in a slightly painful way, while arguing) - but they don't have a major physical confrontation and it does not escalate (their relationship has slightly toxic vibes, but they are forced to depend on each other); mention of Draco being 'thin'/losing weight due to not eating properly (due to the stress of a life or death mission hanging over his head); for the actual smut section - Draco has a kink for the reader wearing stockings/tights (don't ask me where I got this idea from, it just feels like it would fit Draco really well); the tone of the whole thing is very sweet, affectionate, passionate love-making; Draco calls the reader 'darling' and 'love'; oral - reader receiving; Draco fingers the reader while eating her out; a lot of passionate kissing and body worshipping (towards the reader); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (reader receiving); squirting (not played up as a major kink, but it does happen); Draco is anti-breeding kink (I know this is a new one, but try to stick with me) - Draco knows that the only reason for their engagement is to carry on the family blood like (to breed) and he is against that (because it means carrying out his parents' wishes and putting the reader in danger) so he refuses to fuck her because he doesn't want to get her pregnant, because he thinks that it will be cursing her with an attachment to him and he still wants to give her a chance to bail, so he specifically avoids PIV sex for this reason; the ending of the fic has some slightly dubious consent - because Draco starts thinking about the fate of the arranged marriage and feels self loathing but continues with the encounter anyway (he is romantically and sexually attracted to the reader, and there is no force, and the reader is enthusiastic about her consent the whole time, but Draco starts to withdraw his consent and is slightly unsure - it's adult and realistic and complicated); Draco masturbates while sitting on top of the reader to avoid having sex with the reader (in a way, this could be considered 'forced orgasm' because Draco is having a lot of complicated emotions and literally forces himself to orgasm to end the sexual situation); Draco cums on the reader's thighs; Draco cries after sex because of all his complicated emotions; Draco and the reader do talk about their feelings and (mostly) work things out; the ending skews toward light-hearted/sappy.

A/N: This fic is titled after the song Downhill by Lincoln - and I actually had a really hard time choosing which lyrics to go at the top, because I genuinely believe that all the lyrics from the song are so, so fitting here. So I do highly encourage you to go and listen to the song while you read this!! I actually started writing this fic many months ago when the idea came to me, and I got stalled on it, and then I randomly got inspired to finish it around mid-October, but I wanted to wait to post it until it was closer to Christmas because it is so rare for me to have a seasonally accurate fic on my hands so I actually wanted to post it during the seasonally accurate time lmao. I had a lot of fun writing this and exploring the relationship between these two characters, and I do want to write more for them in the future - especially because I am obsessed with the arranged marriage concept. (I feel like I need to write more fics with different characters that use arranged marriage as a trope because writing this just showed me how much fun it is.) Anyway, for now, I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what you think of it in the comments.

...

Moving from the bustling atmosphere of the Slug Club Christmas Party into the cold, empty corridor was certainly a drastic shift.

It felt like stepping through a curtain that drained all happiness from you, even if that happiness was only temporary, feigned, and fueled by the jovial holiday atmosphere rather than coming from anywhere true inside of you. It was a show you had put on for the sake of the social occasion. As an automatic response, you felt the fake smile fall from your face as the last murmurs of the guests and the last echoes of Christmas music disappeared faintly behind you. You were then fully flipped from the warm, welcoming environment of the party to the cold shell that was Hogwarts in the dead of winter as the cool air coming off the stone kissed against your skin. 

You couldn’t resist the need to hug yourself in order to cover up your bare arms, sharp gooseflesh already forming there. Such an occasion insisted upon something showy rather than practical, and with the December weather, you were finding it chilly. 

As you walked a few steps down from the entrance to the party, you found that a certain cloud of darkness began to consume you - even with the Christmas trees glistening brightly at either end, reminding you of the supposedly cheerful season. 

You walked toward Draco, where he was waiting for you, just as Snape had promised when he had come up behind you like a looming storm cloud and pulled you away so suddenly, so rudely from the rousing conversation you were having with Harry and Slughorn. But you had to turn your mind off from any showmanship that you had been forced to put into those conversations, and turn your mind onto something else now - someone else. 

Draco had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his expensive suit, a stiff posture that could be seen even through the matching, all black attire. He was pacing along the mouth of the hallway rather frantically, threatening to wear holes in the soles of his custom leather shoes, muttering under his breath to himself. 

So far, this was the worst you had ever seen him. And that worried you greatly. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, the question naturally on your tongue. 

The sound of your voice in the otherwise empty corridor pulled Draco’s eyes up from the floor, snapping his attention toward you in a way that stopped his pacing in an instant, causing his posture to stiffen up tall as he turned toward you. It was an ingrained instinct - facing someone, giving them your attention when they spoke. Well trained unconscious physical etiquette whipped into a boy who was often very rude and careless with his words. 

For a moment, his fist tightened in his pocket, and you knew that he was clutching on his wand instinctively, his eyes flickering around, looking for an intruder - so perhaps, not entirely ingrained etiquette. Perhaps quite a lot of unconscious physical panic living within those muscles as well. Fight or flight instincts that never got a chance to turn off. 

When his eyes fell on you, recognition flooded his features, and his stiffness relaxed - even if only slightly. 

“Draco, what is it? Why did you pull me out of the party?” You prodded further, your curiosity growing into annoyance when he took too long to answer you. 

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have called you out here if it wasn’t important.” Draco sighed, shifting from one foot to the other, not looking at you. 

“Well isn’t what I’m doing supposed to be important too?” You snapped back. 

Truthfully, you didn’t care about your ‘mission’. You knew that there would be consequences for you if you failed - but at this point, you weren’t all too afraid of being killed. 

When Draco’s parents had discovered that Slughorn was once again teaching at Hogwarts, they had sent you a letter asking to join his ‘Club’, telling you to get close to him. They knew that because of your brilliance, he would already be interested in you joining - and he certainly was. But you had turned him down multiple times because you found it to be an annoyance, and you didn’t want to have to worry about attending ‘club’ meetings on top of everything else going on in your chaotic life. 

Snape was the one who had explained to you why they wanted you to take him up on his nagging offer. The Dark Lord, who used to be known as Tom Riddle, was also once a part of that Club. And they needed to know how much Slughorn remembered about him, and if he was spilling any of the Dark Lord’s secrets to Harry Potter. They needed to know if Slughorn was revealing anything that might make The Dark Lord vulnerable towards Potter. 

Truthfully, you had been grateful towards Snape, and towards Draco for pulling you out of that social hell of fake laughter and performity and into the cool relief of the corridor. You had been dreading the thought of going to the party since Slughorn had first informed everyone about it, and you were grateful to escape it. Even if it gave a chance for the general darkness that Draco carried with him to begin biting at your sensitive heart. And even if it left Harry alone with Slughorn and his endless yammering in your wake. (You pitied him slightly, but you knew that he would be fine on his own.) 

You were mostly irritated with Draco because you hadn’t seen him in days. You felt that he had been strategically avoiding you. Somehow, even in the Slytherin common room or even when you looked for him in his own dorm, he never seemed to be there. And now, he was interrupting you during a crucial moment, daring to show his face when you had spent the better of the last week alone. 

You had invited him to attend the party with you. You thought that you would look like a fool, showing up without a date. And you had. Especially when nearly everyone at Hogwarts had your engagement as hot gossip on their lips just a few months prior. 

“Yes, but-” Draco began to explain himself, but you cut him off, your bubbling annoyance overtaking you in the moment. 

“I was talking to Slughorn when you so rudely interrupted me.” You said, emphasising the words in a way that made Draco childishly roll his eyes. “He was just about to invite me and Harry to look at some of shitty old mementos from previous class years when you had Snape pull me away-”

“Harry?” Draco repeated the name back, mouth gaped as his face twisted in disgust, getting far too caught up on the way you referred to his once rival - now someone who was very background to the rest of his problems. “What? Now you’re getting all cozied up with Potter, are you?” 

At the end of the day, Draco knew that you didn’t owe him anything. 

Essentially, his parents had bought you for him - just like they would have a new racing broom or a fancy set of robes. Since then, you had been nothing but kind to him. Well, aside from your mouthy attitude - which Draco actually found to be refreshing a lot of the time. And he wasn’t even sure how much of it was genuine kindness and how much of it was putting on a show for his parents in order to demonstrate to them that you were a good purchase - that you weren’t something to be disposed of. 

You had held his hand, been cozy and complimented him. He had been surprised the first time you kissed him - surprised by how genuine it felt, and how much he felt himself getting sucked into the emotions of it. But he knew that it was all just for show. 

Because at the end of the day, he knew that no amount of money could force him to own your heart. If you fell in love with someone like Potter, then he could do nothing to stop it. And frankly, he wouldn’t blame you. The heroics, and the genuine kindness, the niceties, the softness - Potter could offer you everything that he couldn’t. 

And in all honesty - something that Draco would only admit to himself deep within the confines of his own, quiet, quaking soul - that thought utterly terrified him. 

“Seriously, Draco?” You barked back, absolutely insulted at the insinuation. At the idea that you had been having fun at the party with Harry when it had been a pretty miserable time for you. “What kind of person do you think I am? I wasn’t there to flirt. Especially not with Harry Potter.”

“Yeah, that’s an awfully convenient story, love.” Draco scoffed, his voice brimming with disgust. 

When you made no further moves to defend yourself - when you didn’t beg for his affection or further insist that what you and Draco had was truly genuine and worth fighting for, it only filled Draco’s mind with more doubt. It only further inflated the idea that indeed, you liked Potter as a romantic partner. And you liked him better. 

“Fine then.” Draco sneered, turning on his heel and marching away, his shoes clacking loudly against the floor as he walked, creating an eerie echo in the empty hallway. 

You hated that your stomach curled with dread at the sight of his quickly retreating back. It had been a long, lonely week without him, and you hated to think of how much longer he would isolate himself if you didn’t take the chance to snag him now. 

“Draco, wait!” You rushed to stop him. 

He was the only person that you truly knew at Hogwarts. 

Yes, he had introduced you to his friends. Pansy Parkinson was nice enough, and she always tried to make girly small talk with you, which you usually returned. Often, her problems about which outfits to wear and how to do her makeup seemed insignificant compared to the literal life and death that Draco faced. But you could always go to her for a conversation that was distracting, a good mental escape. 

Blaise Zabini was more of the strong, silent type. Sometimes the two of you discussed books you had read (when you weren’t feeling too stressed out to read). You usually ended conversations with him early due to colliding opinions on such books. Naturally, he sided with the rich oppressors and you found yourself rooting for the underdogs in every single story. 

Somehow, out of everyone you found yourself surrounded with, Draco was someone you considered a friend. It was difficult not to after the summer the two of you had spent together. 

When your godmother had told you that some ‘old friends of your parents’ were interested in meeting you, you had been surprised. She had always been good to you - she had been friendly, always given you the basics and more in terms of what you needed. She was a very work-minded woman when it came to her job dealing with cursed objects, so she travelled often and left you to be watched over by the Muggle neighbours. Those were experiences that you treasured and often found to be fun. 

You had always grown up with the underlying knowledge that your godmother was not your ‘real’ mother. She always had you call her by her first name - never ‘Mama’, or ‘Mom’. Occasionally, you were mocked in school (because she had enrolled you in Muggle school for a basic education) because you were ‘adopted’. One day, this had led you to asking your godmother where it was that you had come from. 

She told you that your parents were from England, and they died fighting in a war against a terrible dark wizard. They had named her as the person who would take care of you in the event of their death, and though your godmother barely had any traces of an accent left, she told you that she once went to school with your parents at a place called Hogwarts in England. 

Your whole life, all you had known was Muggle New York City. When you turned ten years old, you knew Salem’s Academy for Fine Young Witches, which sometimes had social events (like Quidditch matches and weekend outings) with a brother school, Magorium’s Institute for Upcoming Magical Men. You had dated boys before, but you had never experienced anything too serious. You were a social butterfly well into your magical education who rode the subway during your summers and spent your time going to concerts, enjoying the Muggle library, watching television, going to the movie theatre. 

Even though you never knew your parents and you mourned the dreams of a life you could have had - your life was simple, and you liked it that way. 

Until your godmother took you on a trip to England, promising that it would be a pilgrimage to know more about your heritage, and nothing more. And then - over one dinner, she sold you out to the Malfoys for a dowry of two thousand Galleons. 

Apparently it was enough for her to retire so that she could write a book, as she had always dreamed of. And she was more than happy to be rid of the responsibility of a child that she did not birth. Something that you had heard her whisper to Narcissa when she thought you had not been listening. Up until that point, the only thing binding her to you had been a magical contract that she had signed with your parents before you were even born, naming her your carer in the event of their untimely death. 

The moment she signed a new contract - bidding you to the Malfoys as Draco’s future wife - she was completely free of her responsibility. The new contract that she signed dictated that the Malfoys would have to be responsible for you now. 

So - what you had thought would be a nice visit to explore more about the two dead people that you had never known quickly turned into a permanent relocation with only a small suitcase full of personal belongings, and little clue what the future held for you. Suddenly, you were in a brand new country, living with people you had never met before, betrothed to someone who seemed to hate you. 

And the more the Malfoys talked about The War and told stories of your deceased parents, the more you realised - your parents had died fighting alongside the terrible dark wizard, and not against him. But still, Narcissa and Lucius spoke about your parents as though they were heroes. Valiant heroes who had died at the hands of Aurors, protecting Voldemort’s cause. 

At first, it felt instinctive to hate Draco Malfoy. 

You wanted so badly to hate him. 

He was your betrothed, and though he was very handsome, he had been bitterly rude to you. It seemed that the forcefully polite kiss on the hand that he had given you upon first meeting - something that had given you butterflies in your stomach - had been nothing more than a front, a show he put on for his parents. Because he quickly soured towards you after that. 

He made it very clear that he was not a fan of the arranged marriage either. Even when his parents continually tried to pitch the idea to him and fluff it up for him - as much as they acted like you were a present being given to him on a silver platter (something that only made you feel more isolated and empty). 

There was a distinct point that made you come around to Draco Malfoy. 

The night when you had found out that it wasn’t just a visit, that the idea of the marriage wasn’t just being ‘floated by’ your godmother, but in fact, it was set in stone and you were being left at Malfoy Manor while she silently escaped in the middle of the night with her bag full of gold without even saying goodbye to you. You had sat on the edge of the guest bed they had you in and simply sobbed. You had never felt more alone in your life, never more abandoned, and all you could do was cry your eyes out. 

Draco’s room was across the hall from yours, so naturally, he heard this. It had been a purposeful move from his parents, putting the two of you in close quarters in the hopes that you would talk and interact more, wanting the two of you to at least like each other before getting married. After a few hours of being forced to listen to your chest-racking sobs, you heard a knock. You had been expecting it to be Draco, telling you to shut up so that he could sleep, but instead, a tiny voice asked permission to enter. 

It was one of the house elves - one you later learned was called Pippy, and when you gave her permission to come in, she shuffled along with a large tray in her hands and placed it on the nightstand. A teapot and an empty teacup. She poured you the cup of tea, and after she handed it to you, she patted you on the knee and said: 

“Mister Draco says peppermint tea is good for the bad days,” 

You took the cup in two shaking hands, thanking her meekly, enjoying it as a small comfort. When you watched the tiny elf shuffling back toward your door, you caught a glimpse of a bright blue eye peeking in through the crack, clearly trying not to be caught looking in. 

Even if he would never admit it then, he was growing soft toward you. 

And he had spent the next three months, the entirety of the summer, fighting with that softness as it grew within himself. He constantly battled between pushing you away with feigned annoyance and coldness and wrapping you in warmth, a wordless care. 

He would spend some of the nights in your bed cuddling you while you cried, staying completely silent as to dare not let any fond words slip out. He would defend you against his parents when you didn’t participate in their properly deemed etiquette (such as when you treated the house elves ‘too nicely’ or when you spoke about Muggle technology a bit too much). And yet, he never brought himself to say more than a few genuinely nice words to you. 

He was holding you at arm’s length. He was trying to be some snide, petulant boy toward you in the hopes that you wouldn’t like him. But truly, he was the only real kindness, the only real friend you had in this lonely new world. 

Draco stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling out his name. As much as he would never admit it, he was a puppet to your call. 

He heaved out a sigh and turned back around, so utterly drawn to you. He hated to see your eyes coated in glass - fear and sadness, the ache that you had disappointed him bubbling to the surface as he stared you down with a sour face, his hands still in his pockets, his entire body still stiff. 

Even though a sad face didn’t suit you, you were still beautiful. So damn beautiful. He hated that he had been so stupid as to miss accompanying you to the party. But he likely would have just been a grey cloud hanging around you, preventing anyone from talking to you and socialising with you. He would have been a roadblock to your mission. 

You were wearing a dress made of a fabric that looked like liquid silver melted down and poured over your body, so sparkling and flowy that you looked like a star that belonged in the night sky alongside the beauty of the moon. It wrapped around your body gracefully, with a tie to emphasise your waist and a low neckline that showed off your cleavage. He was only human - he couldn’t lie in how it appealed to him. Sitting in the middle of your cleavage was a necklace - it was an ornate ruby beetle, the sigil of your Pureblood family. You were the last remaining member of the Scaraflos house. 

The necklace had been handed down to you from your mother - literally the only thing you had from your parents. You had worn it for years without ever truly knowing what it meant. You had told Draco that when Narcissa showed you pictures of his parents and your parents from their school days and pointed out how your mother was wearing the necklace in those pictures, it was the only time you had ever felt truly connected to your Pureblood heritage. And you had no clue if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Anytime in years previous, Draco would have jumped to say that it was a good thing. Now, though - he wasn’t entirely sure. 

You were shivering slightly due to the fact that it had such short sleeves, but you were wearing black stockings on your legs (something else that Draco found irritably sexy, even though it covered more of your skin) and you had on a pair of simple, but elegant silver heels. 

Silently, unable to stand the sight of goosenips forming on your skin, he took off his blazer and took the few steps back toward you to wrap it around your shoulders. With his thinner build, it wouldn’t fit you well - but at least, it would shield you from some of the cold air in the castle. As he draped it around you, his eyes caught a glimpse of your hand as you reached up to hold the edge of the coat on your shoulder, clutching onto the fabric so that it wouldn’t fall. 

Draco couldn’t help it when his eyes fixated terribly on it - that damn engagement ring. 

It was something his parents had purchased without him ever knowing, and they had him present it to you as a form of ceremony. As if either of you had any choice in the matter. As if it was supposed to be romantic. As if you could have said no. Later on, behind closed doors, you told him that you would wear it proudly and he scoffed. He thought that the moment the two of you got to Hogwarts, when there were no more prying eyes on the two of you (because Snape certainly didn’t care) - that you would take it off and resign it to some jewellery box, or perhaps even throw it away. 

But you kept wearing it. 

When you thought Draco wasn’t looking, he sometimes found you twisting it between two fingers, looking down at it with an odd kind of fondness - or perhaps, even love. Always a deep, dizzying array of complex thoughts floating through your mind. 

He had no clue that you wore it because you thought of Draco as your family now. He was the only person you had in the world who hadn’t done you some kind of injustice. And you wore it to show loyalty to him. You wore it because it meant that you weren’t alone. You were an abandoned orphan, sold and bartered like livestock - but as long as you wore that ring, you belonged to someone. Someone who, despite his best efforts to appear cold and uncaring, did take care of you. 

“Draco, why did you come here?” You asked again, much gentler this time, lowering your attack for now. 

You stared at him expectantly as you clutched his blazer around your shoulders, trying to steal the last bits of his warmth out of the fabric before it faded away completely. 

He sighed, hating to admit that he needed help. He was stubbornly, bitterly independent, just as his parents had taught him to be. It was one of his biggest flaws. 

“I’m having issues with the Vanishing Cabinet.” He told you quietly, hesitant to admit it. Hesitant to admit failure. 

“Show me.” You told him, and he nodded. 

He led you to the blank wall on the fifth floor that somehow caused a door to appear. The first time you had seen it, it had astounded you. Even in a world of magic, some things still managed to surprise you. 

He had originally brought you there at the beginning of the school year when he had explained to you that he had been tasked to fix up The Vanishing Cabinet. He had called it The Room of Hidden Things. He had explained to you that any time someone wanted to get rid of a dangerous object, for that object to never be found again, they disposed of it within this room. Sometimes it was also a dumping ground for common junk, he had theorised, and he heavily believed that items that were hidden within other places within the walls of Hogwarts - a book tucked away in a random cupboard, a potion bottle hidden under someone’s mattress - somehow, those items ended up here if they were hidden with the same intention of disposal. They were all pulled here by the room’s strong magic. 

You found it to be hauntingly beautiful, like many other places within Hogwarts were. You couldn’t help but to enjoy the sense of mystery as you walked through the isles of piled up furniture, seeing all the strange items that you could barely put names to - things like dragon skulls, murky old potions rotting away in dusty bottles. Even a few trolls that had been killed and stuff (taxidermy style) that had startled you upon your first visit to the room because when you had first looked at them, you thought they were alive and waiting to attack. 

Draco brought you to the back of the large room, and you saw that he had already pulled the tarp off the overwhelming tall, ornate Vanishing Cabinet, so the dusty cloth was sitting in the pile at the cabinet’s feet. Without a word, Draco walked up to the cabinet, moving in stiff mechanical motions as he pulled open the doors. You took a few steps closer to get a better look, realising that he was trying to show you whatever was inside - that must be where the primary problem was located. 

You couldn’t hold in the gasp that broke out of your throat when you saw a dead bird sitting in the bottom of the cabinet. 

A bright yellow canary laying against the dark wood, belly up and completely still with its soft feathers rustled, a few of them missing. You had seen very few dead animals in your lifetime. Aside from the occasional New York City pigeon, laying on the sidewalk in a similar fashion after running itself into one of the hyper reflective windows of the tall buildings. You couldn’t even stand to look at those for too long. You still felt the same deep heartache while looking at it that you had for the poor pigeons. 

“Oh - oh my.” You gaped quietly. 

Draco was entirely surprised when you shouldered him out of the way, letting his ill-fitting borrowed jacket drop off your shoulders onto the dusty ground without care as you crouched down in front of him. You then scooped up the small bird in your hands, cradling it gently as though it were entirely precious. 

He thought that seeing the state of things, you might start suggesting spells, telling him ways that he could fix the obvious problem. But no - you were soft-hearted. The true problem hadn’t even occurred to you yet, because you were so caught up on the sight of a dead bird. You were emotional, struck by the shock of an innocent animal having its life prematurely ended. 

Draco envied you quietly for a moment as you sat on your knees in front of the cabinet, looming in his shadow as you held the bird in your hands. He realised that in order for you to be so startled over this, so heartbroken - it must be one of the first times you had been brushed with death. Draco envied that naivety. 

He wished he could rewind to the version of himself from a few years ago. A version that thought not being able to join the Quidditch team because of an age restriction was the worst tragedy in the world. A version that thought he got everything he wanted because he was genuinely deserving of it. Someone who couldn’t see that he was simply a spoiled brat. 

He wished he could go back to a version that hadn’t seen Muggleborns slain in his family’s dining room, begging for mercy where there would be none.  

When he had first seen that bird sitting dead in the cabinet, a frighteningly still, dead body draped in yellow - for a moment, he had been reminded of Cedric Diggory. Someone so undeserving, lifeless before their time. Used up and gone. 

But now, seeing the way you cradled it, fussing over something already dead and unable to benefit from your care - Draco was distinctly reminded of himself, withering and undeserving in your arms. 

“Draco, do - do you think we should bury it?” You asked, the gentle croak of tears in your voice as you considered a pointless funeral for the small dead thing. 

You suddenly rose up to your feet then, walking around Draco to look for something among the junk in the room, something to wrap the poor bird in - some kind of cloth, or perhaps a small box to place it in. 

This caused something inside of him to snap. The way your sweet demeanour ground against his nerves - his worry, his anxiety about everything mounting suddenly as you fussed over a tiny thing that truly didn’t matter. 

Eventually, your good intentions would get you killed. That gentle touch, that willingness to help - it would get you on the wrong end of a Killing Curse one day. (Especially if he didn’t protect you.) 

“It’s not about the bloody bird, woman!” He growled out, entirely frustrated with your delicate ignorance, your lack of seeing the true point. 

Draco turned to you, and grabbed your arm so viciously that your palms jerked apart and the small, lifeless body dropped onto the floor without a single bit of grace. The bird dropped against the cold stone so carelessly, as though it were an object that had not once had any life in it at all. You let out another gasp at this, and looked from the dull tuft of yellow feathers at your feet up to Draco’s face. 

“Draco!” You cried out sharply, protesting against his careless nature toward the innocent creature. 

His fingers were gripping your forearm fiercely, blooming small bits of pain - but you didn’t care. You felt a clench in your gut, distinct guilt overwhelming you. You told yourself that his anger was misplaced. You had to guess so. You didn’t have words, especially not while he stared you down so coldly. All you could do was stand tall, and stare right back, even while tears formed in your eyes. 

He tightly clenched his jaw. 

You were surprised when he spoke again. 

“How can you be so daft?” He said, almost choking on the words. 

That was when you knew for certain that all his bubbling anger was truly misplaced. He had called you brilliant before, and often made ‘jokes’ about how much you outsmarted him. It was one of the only things he had said about you that wasn’t sarcastic or backhanded in some effort to deter you. He didn’t think that you were stupid, not one bit. 

“Look, you know if I don’t get this thing working-” Draco couldn’t even finish his sentence before his throat closed around the words, threatening harsh sobs that he was desperate to contain. 

Instead, he turned abruptly, letting go of your arm - now completely uncaring of the misplaced conflict. You felt a wave crash into your chest as you realised it. He was right - how could you have been so stupid? 

Of course, he had no care for a small animal. 

It was about what that animal represented. His failure. Death looming over his head. 

The bird had obviously died in the cabinet, which meant that a living thing had yet to survive the transition from Borgin & Burkes into Hogwarts. If Draco couldn’t fix that problem - if there was some sort of problem when the Death Eaters tried to use the cabinet to get into Hogwarts and one of them died, then Draco would be on the line for it. 

They would kill him if he couldn’t get this right. 

Draco moved slowly, putting a hand on each of the cabinet’s doors and closing them. The harsh squeak of the old hinges resonating through the otherwise silent room spoke volumes. 

Then, for a few long, painstaking moments - neither of you said a thing. 

Your chest ached. You wished that you could find something comforting to tell him. For some reason, you knew that simply telling him ‘it’s going to be okay’ wasn’t going to cut it. You muddled in the silence and you hated it. 

He stood with his back still turned to you, with his arms outstretched, leaning on the tall, imposing wooden object. It felt like a shadow of death looming over the two of you. His shoulders held nothing but pure tension, even as he used the object for support. Soon, he took on a very unnatural, un-Malfoy slouch as he allowed his head to so tiredly droop down between his spread arms. 

After a few moments of that terrible silence, with you staring at his back, tossing your mind for something helpful to say as you chewed at your own lip - Draco took in a shuddering breath. Though you knew he was trying to hide it: he began quietly sobbing. 

You couldn’t help yourself then. 

It was something you knew that he pretended to hate, but you did it anyway. He could pretend to be annoyed with you if he wanted, but you both likely needed it right now. You stepped forward, over the dead bird, your shoes quietly clacking against the stone - and you settled yourself right up against his back, tucking your body tightly against him in a hug. You nuzzled your face into the tense muscles of his shoulders, and as you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind and squeezed him tightly, you felt some of the tension melt away as he unconsciously relaxed into your touch. 

You did worry about how much thinner he felt in your arms than the last time you had done this - obviously, he hadn’t been eating properly. But you didn’t bother to bring it up, not wanting to start another argument. 

Draco felt a grateful warmth spread over him. Still, he refused to touch you back. He couldn’t. At least not yet. 

He kept his hands on the wood of the cabinet, almost like a bold surrender, silently remarking that he would give into your touch, to your softness, but he wouldn’t return it. He couldn’t. He let out another shuddering sob - a sound he couldn’t contain now with the feeling of your warmth at his back. It was something he hated himself for. 

You hushed him gently. And then, miraculously, you found words. 

“We could leave.” You said quietly, turning your head so that your cheek sat parallel with his flesh, muttering the words against the fine silk of his button up shirt. “We could just… run away together. We don’t have to stay here, Draco. We could get to a fireplace and Floo out of here, or-” 

“We can’t.” Draco easily cut you off, stamping out the idea, his voice just as quiet, throttled by tears. “You know that we can’t.” 

You wanted to argue the point more. Obviously, he didn’t hate the idea. He just thought it was illogical. Likely, he thought it was too dangerous. But what was the alternative - possibly being killed anyway? Being tortured and then killed if he failed his mission? 

“If we leave, they’ll kill my parents because I couldn’t complete my mission.” Draco sniffled quietly. “At the very least, they’ll haul me in and have my head for being a traitor.” 

Draco straightened his stance then, taking his arms off the cabinet. You thought that he might remove your arms from his waist, finally rejecting your touch. But instead, he began tracing fingers from his right hand along the forearm of his left sleeve, almost scratching at it like it was a terrible itch. 

You had been there on the night when he had gotten the Mark. 

You had been brought into the room and forced to listen to his screams of pain before you even truly knew what was happening. When you had tried to comfort him about it, he had pushed you off so roughly that you had almost smacked your head into one of the walls - but you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry with him. You that he was taking that fear and pain out on you in that terribly misplaced way. 

Later that night, when he had been crying - sobbing harshly and running the freshly scorched skin under cool water - he let you run him a bath with soothing soaps. The two of you discussed Shakespeare’s plays (which you were surprised that he had read) while you washed his hair for him. 

“Now that I have the Mark, I can’t run anywhere.” Draco muttered quietly. “I can’t go anywhere that I won’t be found.” 

That part had never truly occurred to you before. 

You knew that the Dark Lord used the Dark Mark as a way for his followers to show their loyalty. The magic behind it also made it a way for him to summon them or even for them to summon him. Hearing his words, you guessed that Draco having it meant that he could be ‘summoned’ at any time as a part of the loyalty he had so unwillingly pledged. 

Even if he betrayed the Dark Lord morally, mentally, emotionally, and tried to do so physically by running away, as long as his arm was attached, he would still be in service to that horrible man until he and his followers decided otherwise. Especially because you couldn’t imagine Draco wanting to part with his arm anytime soon. 

“We’ll figure something out.” You told him, having little faith in those words yourself. You knew it was a truth that you had to speak into existence - otherwise, you were doomed. 

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, spreading more warmth through him. He clenched his fists at his sides, highly resisting the urge to reach for your hands, but silently hoping that you wouldn’t pull away. 

Draco resented your sense of hope. A lot of the time, he couldn’t help but to think that it was stupid - just your naivety poking through in a different way. Though, truthfully, in a lot of ways, he knew that your hope was the bravest thing about you. And these days, that hope was the only thing keeping him afloat in the chaotic sea that his life had become. 

Draco, unlike you, was a coward. 

He could come up with all the excuses he wanted not to run away, but truthfully - he was terrified. And every single day, his fear put you more and more at risk. 

… 

Draco thought back to a night at Malfoy Manor, when you had been having dinner with him and his parents. A night when, for the first time in his life, that streak of cowardice had somehow been broken. 

“Can you believe it? It’s completely ridiculous. A proposal to convert the entire Ministry from intern-departmental memos to this - this telephone nonsense!” 

Lucius ranted on as he cut into his food, taking out his aggression on the piece of meat in front of him as he recounted something that had happened a few months previous that still brought him particular frustration whenever he remembered it. 

“That Arthur Weasley is a stupid old bat, downright mindless, but even I can’t imagine where he gets theses ideas from-” 

“Telephones can actually be quite useful.” You piped up, interrupting his father’s ranting with a quiet, but polite comment. 

Without a word, all three others at the table stared at you as you continued to mindlessly poke at your dinner. Lucius glared daggers at you, his expression full of bitter venom, while Draco and Narcissa gave you the same distinct expression of shock - deer in headlights, mirrored over both their faces. Over the years, they had learned to simply be quiet and ‘listen’ to the rantings of their patriarch, especially if it was about the goings on at the Ministry, Arthur Weasley, or any number of other subjects that he knew he was right about. 

While at his own dinner table, Lucius Malfoy was not to be interrupted - much less corrected. 

You had just broken the golden rule twice over. You had interrupted him in the middle of speaking, and you had contradicted what he was saying. 

Draco’s gut clenched as he realised that he should have warned you beforehand to avoid such a faux pas. He should have told you that the dinner table was a place for quietly eating and answering direct questions in as few words as possible - not an open forum. 

Before he could apologise on your behalf, you opened your mouth again - doubling down on this accidental, horrible mistake. 

“Do you just find it confusing because you don’t know how they work?” You posed, reaching out to grab your glass for a sip of water, looking right at Lucius as you posed the question. “I know that a lot of Wizards who were born in the magical world can find Muggle technology strange and confusing, but-” 

Before you could finish speaking, Lucius reached off to the side and grabbed his cane, and brought down onto the centre of the table with an intense silent fury. He smashed your hand down into the glass that you had been holding, shattering it to pieces underneath your palm. Draco and Narcissa flinched at the sound and Narcissa backed her chair away slightly - but neither of them dared to speak, neither of them moved to confront him. In fact, Narcissa was very intentionally looking away, her eyes now glued to the floor. 

Draco could see blood pooling against the emerald green table runner, could see your flesh quivering in pain underneath the silver snake’s maw - but you stayed completely still, your eyes coldly locked on Lucius’ glare as he hovered out of his seat. Even with tears of pain dotting your eyes, your throat trembling as you held back cries - you kept a stiff jaw and refused to back down from the confrontation. 

It was braver than Draco had ever been, and he silently admired you for it. 

“If you think that stupid, filthy Muggles are so brilliant, then you can die like one.” Lucius ground out slowly, pure rage on his breath. “While you are living in my house, you will learn your place. You filthy, blood-traitorous slut.” 

Draco held his breath. He knew that if you backed down, if you shied away and admitted your wrong doing with silence or even an apology, then his father would let you go easily and then this would all be over. 

But of course - you weren’t going to back down easily. Not you. 

“And what place is that?” You remarked, pure snark in your tone. 

Draco’s throat clenched up. His father wouldn’t like that. 

Lucius lifted the snake’s bite off your hand, only for a second, and then - after placing down the cane, he sharply backhanded you. Draco knew that he wore thick, heavy rings on his hand and he worried for you - especially when you swayed on your seat for a moment before falling to the floor. The heft of the hit was enough to dizzy you, make you unstable and send you to the ground. 

“Your place is to be silent until I call upon you.” Lucius announced, seeming very satisfied with himself. 

Narcissa refused to look in your direction, and Lucius moved to sit back in his chair. For once, going against everything he had been taught since childhood, Draco rushed to get out of his. He knew that it would have been expected for him to ignore you. For you to be isolated in your pain. But he couldn’t help himself. 

Draco rushed to your side, collapsing onto his hands and knees before you - instinctively, he sheltered you in his arms, trying to get you upright again. 

“Y/N?” He croaked out quietly, only now realising how close he was to tears. 

“I’m fine, Draco.” You quickly lied. “I’m fine.” 

“Draco.” 

Lucius’ tone was entirely dead, almost calm, and somehow menacing in the same breath. Draco looked over your head, your slouched, defeated posture making you too small in his arms as he held you against his chest, and he caught his father’s eye as the man glared at him with pure violence dancing in his cold eyes. Any other time, Draco would have folded to that silent threat so easily. But with you there - with the feeling of you quivering against him, clearly holding in sobs - it truly injected boldness into him in those moments. 

You were such a fragile thing. For once in his life - something he needed to protect. Something only he could protect. 

“Draco, sit down.” His father ordered, clearly annoyed when Draco took too long to move away from you. “You haven’t been dismissed from my table yet.” 

Draco laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, and somehow, entirely against his own will, untangled you from his arms. When he stood, everyone in the room thought for certain that it was to comply with this order. But instead, he moved toward his father’s chair with sharp footsteps, putting on his best faux confidence and standing tall as he spat out his next words. 

“I swear to Merlin, if you ever put a hand on my fiance again, I will end you.” 

Naturally, Lucius didn’t find this threat to be the slightest bit intimidating. 

His father let out a dark chuckle, clearly amused by seeing Draco posture as a man when he knew that his son was nothing more than a spoiled, cowardly child. 

“Let’s not forget who bought you the little whore.” Lucius laughed. “There’s no need to get sentimental, Draco. You should be paying attention. Learn how to train up your wife now, before she becomes a disobedient brat. You should never let anyone talk to your father like that, remember, loyalty comes-” 

Draco took out his wand then, much to his father’s surprise. With it poised in Lucius’ direction, he received a sharp glare. 

“I understand loyalty perfectly well. Father.” Draco said, his voice short. 

“Incarcerous.” Lucius hissed sharply - then, as if out of nowhere, a thin black rope appeared and whipped around the middle of Draco’s neck. In an instant, it began tightening, choking him. 

Immediately, Draco dropped his wand and fell backwards, landing beside where you were still kneeling on the floor - you panicked as you watched him choking and gasping for breath. 

“Lucius!” Narcissa cried out, begging for the end of the conflict. 

The man ignored her. 

“You will learn to respect me in my own house, so help me, if I have to-” 

“Finite.” You held your good hand above Draco’s gasping face and muttered the counter curse, releasing him from the rope, performing an impressive feat of wandless magic to get him free.

Lucius glared at you once again, locking you and Draco in a harsh stare as you helped him sit up while he struggled to catch his breath. 

Before any further words could be said, Lucius pushed out his chair and stomped out of the room like a child having a tantrum, obviously upset that his intimidation and abuse had not gotten him the result he wanted. Narcissa said nothing, only giving you the saddest eyes as you helped Draco off the floor. The two of you left to go clean the glass out of your palm, spending the rest of the night locked in Draco’s room, licking your wounds in the relative comfort of each other’s silence. 

… 

That had been the first time Draco had ever properly stood up to his father. 

Draco still wondered if that was a good thing or not. 

Before he could venture any further into that very dangerous can of worms, you pulled Draco back to the present when you stepped back from the hug. Draco resisted the urge to pull you back, to steal more of your warmth. 

You noticed something out of the corner of your eye that caught your attention. 

A mattress laid out on the floor. 

It could have just been one of those random pieces of stray ‘junk’ furniture, but something about it caught your attention. For one, the fact that it hadn’t been in that position the last time you had been in this room. And two - there were a few random, stray blankets placed on top of it in what was very clearly an improvised sleeping area. As though someone had gone through the random objects in the room in order to compose a makeshift bed. 

With Draco’s bookbag sitting beside the mattress, open - you quickly clued into the truth. It was absolutely no trouble to figure out why you hadn’t seen much of him over the past week. He had been sleeping here. 

It was a revelation that shocked you. 

Especially considering that this looked quite shabby in comparison to the comfort of the Slytherin dorms. And you knew that at home, he was used to being spoiled with a thick, three foot tall mattress on a four poster bed and goose feather down pillows. So - why would he choose to camp out here? Why would he want to be closer to The Vanishing Cabinet - something that was actively giving him stress? 

“You’ve been sleeping here.” You said, disappointment ripe in your voice as you walked over to the mattress as toed at one of the blankets with your shoe. “Why?” 

“Why does it matter?” Draco huffed, picking up his jacket that you had dropped onto the floor and tossing it into the middle of the mattress. “Can you help me with The Cabinet or not?” 

“I can help.” You answered simply. “But I want to talk about this first.” You said, motioning toward the area where he had slept. 

Draco let out a sharp breath and turned around, rubbing his hands across his face in sharp frustration. 

For a moment, you thought that he was simply going to leave again, forcing you to chase him, trying to outrun the conversation. It had been a favourite tactic of his when the two of you had been living at his parents’ sprawling estate, a place that he knew much better than you did. The second that things got a bit too personal, he would slip into some random hallway or sneak off around a private corner, and it was like he had Disapparated - with how quickly he had moved, disappearing into the bowels of the house so that he could escape talking to you. 

You wouldn’t let him escape this time. 

You stepped up to him and put your hands on either side of his face, and he closed his eyes at the gentle touch. 

“Draco, please don’t hide from me.” You told him quietly. “You don’t have to be alone in all this. I know… I know I’m just some stupid girl that your parents bought for you, but I want to be a good wife for you. I want to be the person that you can come to with your problems.” 

Draco didn’t think of you as just some ‘stupid girl’. 

He didn’t think of you as a gift, as a purchased object that he could throw away like he had with every other toy that he had carelessly broken in his life. 

Honestly - you were the first real friend he ever had. You were the first person who was truly honest with him, calling him out on his bullshit, barring any consequences of his reputation or anything that his parents might do to you. You didn’t flock to him for popularity or status. You were forced to be near him, but you didn’t always act polite toward him by force. When your sweetness came to him, it was in waves. And it came along with sour notes and rudeness and harsh honesty that he needed. 

That kind of honesty was something that he had never experienced from anyone else in his life. 

And all of it was so incredibly genuine. 

You were someone who should have hated him, but you always smiled at him; someone who said his name with nothing but pleasantness in your tone, where others said it with venom or coldness. You were one of the first people he felt like he could open up to, and that was dangerous. 

Of course he was hiding from you. He needed to hide from you. 

He was a coward. And lately, the thing he feared most, even above losing his own life - was losing you. You were probably the only good thing he had ever possessed that was actually irreplaceable. If he lost you, he knew that he would never recover. He would actually willingly fling himself off the Astronomy Tower if he was somehow responsible for getting you hurt. 

That was what kept him at a distance. Hoping that he could actually grow cold toward you. Hoping that he could learn to genuinely hate you if he escaped from your sweetness. 

He also hoped that you would grow to hate him so that you could simply detach and go off on your own. You didn’t have The Mark, you could still run. At least before making your marriage vows, you could. But no - you were too good. You were too kind hearted to truly abandon him. 

And every time Draco saw you, he only became more nauseated with the realisation that he was becoming more and more fond of you. He would always look for your face in the crowd at the Great Hall, he would always wait for that smile to come across your lips when you locked eyes with him. 

And he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle you. He couldn’t handle being the one responsible for the destruction of your life. 

So he spent more nights, longer nights in the Room of Requirement, slaving over The Vanishing Cabinet, writing down increasingly stupid plans for how he could kill Dumbledore without actually waltzing up and just murdering the man. He had to complete his mission if he was going to keep you safe. 

“Draco, please-” 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t listen to the sweet sadness in your voice curl around his name like a canary’s song, another sweet little bird ready to die by his hands. He couldn’t stand you talking to him like you actually cherished him - like he was actually something worth having. 

He reached up and gently cupped the side of your face, tucking his arm inside of yours to do so where you still held onto his cheek, the two of you becoming so entangled, just as he had feared. 

Then - he pulled you into a kiss. 

It was an addition to only about a half dozen kisses that the two of you had shared before this. And in an instant, this was the most desperate - emotions that he desperately wanted dampened off and hidden wringing through his lips and into yours. Entirely against his will, another hot tear escaped, and he let out a small gasp when you were quick to thumb it away. 

You wanted to cheer at the feeling of his lips against yours. You knew that before this, he was actively pulling away from you, putting himself in isolation, marching in his suffering alone because he thought that he had to. Or simply because he was used to it, from what you had seen of his home life. 

You knew what a horrible curse loneliness was, and you never wanted him to suffer through it. Especially not on top of everything else he was already going through. If he had to suffer through everything that his parents had put onto him, then at the very least, he didn’t have to suffer alone. 

Having his lips pressed so tightly to yours - it felt like progress. Feeling the whimper that echoed out from his throat as he held your face so delicately, like you were a perfect, soft doll - like you were something so precious - it felt like you had broken down a wall that he had been trying so hard for so many months to keep up as a barrier against you. 

This felt like saving him. 

It felt like doing what little you could within your limited power to create light in the darkness he was trudging through. Or at the very least, it felt like you could assure him that he wasn’t stuck in that darkness alone. 

After a few moments, Draco pulled away from the kiss. When he reached up to pull one of your hands away from his face, you worried that he might just shove you away and walk away altogether, finally coming to his senses against the affection. You worried that he would suddenly become cold toward you as he had done many other times, in an effort to turn you off. 

Instead - he surprised you. He did one of the most endearing, heart-melting things that he possibly could have done. 

He clasped your wrist gently between his cool fingers, thumbing along your pulse in a way that made you hold back a moan, and then he raised the heel of your palm up to his lips. With his eyes gently closed, refusing to look at you, he kissed along the fading scars that had been left there when his father had smashed your hand into a wine glass over dinner. 

The marks were something you didn’t pay much mind to these days, especially not with the ornament of your engagement ring as a much more pleasant distraction on that hand. But feeling Draco’s pillowy, light kisses grazing across your skin in the best, deepest apology he ever could have offered you - it made your stomach clench with overwhelming emotion as tears formed in your eyes. 

“Draco-” You choked on his name this time, and he moved your hand to sit on his shoulder as he turned his attention toward your face. 

Glassy, tear-kissed eyes faced your own, and you knew that there were no words for it. 

The universe had brought the two of you together in the strangest way and drowned the two of you in the most unpleasant circumstances. But you couldn’t help thinking that this is exactly where you were meant to be. 

“Hush now, darling.” He told you, his voice whisper-quiet, not daring to get much louder lest he risk breaking those tears in his throat. 

Darling. It was the first time he had ever called you that. He had thrown out the occasional snide ‘honey’ or ‘wifey’ in front of his parents or even behind closed doors, very rudely playing on the fact that he was supposed to treat you like a girlfriend, like his beloved. He thought it was amusing to taunt you with the sarcasm that he never actually would hold any true affection for you. 

This was the first pet name he had given you out of genuine affection. 

He pulled you back in for another kiss, and the moment his lips touched yours, Draco could feel himself losing it. The softness of your pillowy mouth against his, the way your fingers curled into his shirt, holding onto him like you truly needed him as an anchor. The little moan you let out - making him desperate to chase more of those sounds from you. 

All of it was slowly driving him insane, leading him further astray from his goal of detaching from you. 

He should have tossed you out into the hallway. He should have yelled at you, called you horrible names. He should have pulled out every single rude, bratty thing in his repertoire to make you absolutely hate him. Instead - he found himself getting lost in you more by the second. He found himself letting your softness roll over him in waves, turning him weak. 

Draco held the back of your head with one hand, pinning you into the kiss, holding you against his mouth like a dehydrated man would so desperately hold onto a decanter of water. You let out another sweet moan, louder this time, and he didn’t hesitate to shove his tongue past your lips, dizzy and needing to drink right from the source, wanting to devour you whole. He needed to see if he could taste the light that radiated out of you. He needed to see if he could find that fatal thing inside of you that made you have a fondness toward him. 

This was nothing like snogging random Slytherin girls out of boredom.

In that moment, Draco felt important. He felt needed. He felt like he served some grander purpose of good in the universe because you held onto him tighter, because you pulled him closer, because you kissed him back with ferocity and sucked on his tongue. Because you wanted him. He felt that if your attention shifted from him for even a moment, he would wither away and cease to exist because he only mattered under the warmth of your gaze. 

Draco felt like he was tempting fate when he moved his hands down your shoulders, down your back, daring to touch more of you - daring to ask for more. That he was playing with fire, letting his well-ingrained greed get the better of him once again. But he couldn’t help himself. 

He cradled his flat-handed touch across you with the intention to feel you in a way that he never had before. Yes, he had held you before - hugged you, pulled you close to him when he was stuck for words and wanting to comfort you, especially seeing as comforting words had never been a skill taught to him. But other than a few grazing touches against your hands or your cheeks, he had never dared to invite himself to the rest of your body. 

Before this, he had never touched you with lust on his mind. 

He had never truly thought of you as his property, something he could possess and own and take. He thought for certain, at any moment, you would push him away for being so brazen - and he would simply have to add this rejection to his pile of heartbreaks and move on. 

Instead, he felt something inside of him ease with relief when you sighed with delight - one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. And then, in a moment so perfect, you leaned into his touches. You kept one hand tightly gripping the fabric of his shirt and the other reached up and wound into his neatly slicked hair, instantly messing up the tresses and making them wild at the back. 

But he couldn’t care, not for a moment - especially not when you let out another sweet moan into his mouth and leaned your whole body into him, pressing against him so that he felt every inch of your gorgeous curves through the thin fabric of your dress. 

Draco had felt you pressed this close against his body before, but it had never been like this. 

Before it had been like a delicate bird being held in a cage - like some sweet, innocent thing he was trying to protect. 

But now, it was like a man truly feeling a woman. It was a potential husband truly seeing his future wife for the first time, and his body responded in the only way he could. He let out a shuddering moan and he felt his cock hardening up. Of course, he didn’t want you to feel it. He didn’t want this to happen. He shouldn’t let this happen. 

He was supposed to be distancing himself from you, not letting you dizzy him like he was some stupid lovesick fool. He was supposed to be severing these ties, not burrowing himself further inside of you. (And just that thought sparked a certain imagery in his mind that made his cock twitch and swell to full mast. Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant. He was a fool.) 

Draco pulled back from the kiss and you let out a disappointed sound - like the creek of an old door, tired and waning. 

Draco forced his hands back to his sides, despite how fantastic the warmth of your flesh felt under his touch. 

When he tried to step back from you, you refused to let him go. The grip you had in his hair caused a small twinge of pain across his scalp, and he was forced to open his eyes. The look on your face - kiss bruised lips, eyes still closed, a quiver across your chin, filled to the brim with disappointment, likely knowing what was going through his mind - it made him weak. It gave him pause. 

He was too damn weak. 

“Y/N-” He said your name in a whisper - about to tell you that the two of you shouldn’t be doing this, but you cut him off. 

“Draco, please.” You whimpered quietly. “Please, don’t push me away right now.” 

He reached up and gently gripped your forearm. He should have used the touch to untangle you from him, but he found that he didn’t have the strength to. Whether it was a mental strength or a physical one, he wasn’t even sure. 

“I need this.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and strained, and for the first time that he had ever heard - desperate. “I think you do too. Please.” 

He was a horrible, selfish man - but he told himself that a good husband would never deny you of your needs. 

Draco swept you into another kiss, wrapping one of his arms around your back, firm and protective as he always had been, determined to serve your needs with more ferocity than ever. While you moaned into his mouth, he guided you backwards until your ankles hit the edge of that mattress. The one he had been sleeping on to flee from this big, horrible thing that had been building between the two of you that had now crashed down upon his head with inevitability. 

Even dizzy from the feeling of his lips on yours, you instantly understood the wordless signal. He laid you down on it as gently as he could, taking the gravity in slow pauses rather than simply letting you fall backwards, and as he fixed some of the blankets under your head like a makeshift pillow, you felt like a queen, being treated with the highest affection and handled with the most gentle hands that her beloved could muster. 

Part of you yearned for a rougher touch, to see Draco let loose on you - but you knew that this was what he needed. He needed to treasure something. He needed to know that he could have something good that wouldn’t end up dead or broken because of him. 

Draco paused above you for a moment, holding himself there with a hand beside your head - he felt a pure, stabbing pain in his gut when he looked down at you and all he could see reflected back up at him was pure, shining, sickening love. Your eyes practically glowed with it in the dimly lit room. He didn’t want to admit it then, but he knew he was so utterly fucked. 

He felt a curse curling up inside him - the urge to mirror that back to you but the inability to proclaim it. Feeling like he was some filthy dead thing that would never truly mean anything to you while wanting so badly to be the solid earth beneath your feet that you needed to function, he wanted to be your everything. His voice became strangled in his throat and instead of making that impossible proclamation, his body moved frantically as he began kissing down your neck. 

It was a worship - it was a proclamation in silence. It was all he could muster, but he hoped that it would please you nonetheless. 

Please. 

He whispered wordlessly against your skin, tonguing along the planes of your neck as you moaned for him so beautifully. 

Please, notice me. Find me worthy. 

After lavishing gentle attention across your neck and your clavicle, coating you in salvia that cooled across your skin and made you shiver, he reached your bust line and easily buried himself there. He nestled along the skin so tenderly that you found your heart wanting to burst out of your chest to reach his lips, your hands coming up to cradle the back of his head in what you hoped was an equally tender gesture while he laid the sweetest, simple open-mouthed kisses in your cleavage. 

This was a Draco that you had never seen before. This was not the surly-mouthed, harsh, bitter man you had come to know. And if you had fallen for glimpses of his sweetness before, then you were quickly being catapulted off the edge into full on adoration. Into something deeper and much more dangerous. 

“Draco, please.” You moaned out, pushing your chest further into his touch, somehow already breathless and beating hard between your thighs for him. 

Of course, he thought. More. 

She deserves more. 

Draco moved the hand that was supporting himself to push into the mattress beside your waist, holding his weight there now. And then, he used his other hand to reach into the front of your dress. He felt lucky when you sighed with delight rather than revoking his permission to touch you, even though his fingers were cold and icy upon your breast as he moved the fabric of your dress and the cup of your bra off to the side. 

This left the deep V of the wrap sitting at your ribs, presenting one of your breasts to the open air, an absolutely beautiful sight as your nipple pebbled up with the coolness of the room. He didn’t leave the flesh cold for long before he cupped your breast with tender fingers and fed your nipple into his hot mouth, eagerly sucking - as though he could communicate better every tangled bit of emotion he felt for you with the intricate swirls of his tongue. 

“Draco!” 

You moaned and arched up into his mouth, encouraging him further to explore the beauty of your breast with his tongue. 

You surprised him slightly when you moved underneath him, parting your legs and moving to bracket your knees around his narrow hips. He couldn’t help but to moan against your breast when he felt the overwhelming heat of your core settle against his cock. Even through his trousers, with your dress pooling up around your waist, it was like feeling the morning sun kissing your face after opening the curtains. It was a wave of warmth that threatened to overtake him. 

Draco couldn’t hold back the instinctive movement, and he ground his hips downward, seeking more of that addictive heat, needing more of it on his hard, aching cock. He felt as though he had found liquid euphoria when you let out a crackling moan in response, the sound shaking everything inside of him that made him actually feel good for once. 

The feeling was enhanced when you threaded your fingers into his hair harder, your fingernails scraping across his scalp as your body echoed a natural response to him - you clamped your thighs down on his hips, trapping him there, and you began to grind yourself into the hardness of his cock, clearly needed more for yourself. 

He knew that he shouldn’t be allowed to have this - he shouldn’t be allowed to taint something as perfect as you. But he let himself continue to selfishly take, and take, and take more. He was a greedy brat, as he always had been, and he couldn’t bear to change his ways now. 

“Oh fuck, Draco.” You moaned out so sweetly. 

Draco pulled back, and began kissing along the side of your breast. 

“Shh, darling. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He said quietly, swallowing sharply, desperately trying to chug in more air. 

He had no clue when he had become so light-headed, but if you were the thing making him so dizzy, so distant from reality - then you were his fondest drug, and he was never going to let you go again. 

Draco descended then - he had the utmost urge to please you, to hear more of his name on your lips. 

A near feral groan escaped him when he finally caught a glimpse between your thighs. 

With that silver skirt pooled around your waist, he could see properly now - those black stockings that he already thought were too sinful now took on a whole new meaning in his realm of fantasies. You weren’t wearing any panties beneath the semi-transparent garment - the thick seam of the stockings was stuck to your wet cunt, dipping into your pussy right where he wanted to be; your wetness leaking right through the nylon and causing it to stick to your cunt, making it shiny and utterly perfect in the dimly lit space. 

Draco groaned from deep in his chest, his voice edging on whiny, even to his own ears. But he couldn’t bring himself to care about how pathetic he must have sounded. You were just too perfect. He was drawn in by the siren call of your perfect cunt, one hand with a thumb drawing circles on your hips and the other gently skimming fingers up the back of your clothed thigh as he scooted himself further down the mattress. 

He couldn’t resist the urge, when he leaned down, he latched his mouth onto your cunt through the wet, shiny fabric, unable to resist the pure need to taste your essence without taking off the stockings first. 

“Draco! Oh-!” 

You let out a needy moan, which only spurred Draco to suck harder, even tonguing sharply against your clit through the fabric. It created a sharp itch, a raging need - it was not enough contact, tedious and harsh and something that made a vicious, rolling ache inside of your cunt. You needed more. 

“Please, more!” 

Again - he would have been cruel to deny you. And though, up until this point, he had been a reluctant and unwilling paramour, he was nothing but a slave to you and your desires in those moments. 

Acting purely upon instinct, he raised his head slightly to give himself room to work and then brought fingers to the nylon fabric, trying to tear it apart. His head was filled with nothing but animal need now, bloated and high on the affection that he had been denying himself for months he had been unwillingly engaged to you. Months of denying that you were exactly what he needed, his other half - the other half of a lonely broken person clinging on that he had been so desperately trying to shake off. 

Draco let out a growl of frustration - his nails were blunt and dull and he slipped hopelessly against the wet fabric. Before it could truly be formed as a thought inside his mind, he leaned down and pressed his teeth into the stockings against your mound, right above your clit in a way that made you whimper from the contact. Then - he bit harshly into the fabric, tearing a small hole into it that he could then rip wider with his frantic hands. 

It made you gasp, being exposed to the cold air within seconds - feeling your hot, pulsing cunt quake as the cool air licked at every single bit of your wetness. It was a shocking turn-on, feeling the seam of your tights being so easily demolished, leaving you as nothing but a wanton, exposed gash from the bit of your pubic hair sticking out to the way the new edge of the fabric rubbed against your arsehole. 

Now, instead of being a gentle thing he had to protect or some stranger that he was trying to distance himself from - you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck. And you absolutely loved it. 

“Draco, please-” You gasped out again, feeling his fingers tickling against your thigh, feeling his breath still huffing out in harsh pants over your now bare pussy, waiting for him to do something more. 

You were struck by lighting when he latched onto your cunt, moaning just as loudly as you did when he was finally able to taste you, able to feel you completely unfiltered for the first time. 

You arched up wildly and your thighs quaked against his cheeks - he made little effort to hold you down, too busy selfishly enjoying your pussy now. He took in a deep breath against you, inhaling a greedy whiff of your scent so close to his nose while he gulped down a filthy slurp of your warm, wet pussy, moaning loudly from the back of his throat the whole time. You were so hot under his tongue - you were a heartbeat, a new breath, something so alive that he certainly shouldn’t have been allowed to drink from. 

But you were now his to freely feast upon, as if he wasn’t already spoiled enough by the world, tainted by the mangled silver spoon he had been gnawing on since his birth. 

“Draco, fuck! So good!” 

You wailed out, letting out sounds that Draco had never before heard, sounds he never thought you were capable of. Back at The Manor, even when you cried, you clearly tried to be conservative, stay quiet, not to be a bother. It was only now that Draco realised he had never truly witnessed you losing control of yourself. Even when you had faced down his father’s fury, you somehow stood tall and composed, an impeccable monument to emotional control. 

It was only now that he realised how truly badly he wanted to see you lose that control. 

He never thought of you as property, of course - but if you were so stubbornly intent on owning his heart, his emotions, his vulnerability - then he would get to own yours as well. He would get to own your weakness. He would get to own the single moments in life when you truly lost your composure. 

Draco set about devouring your cunt, keeping this mission in mind. He wrapped one arm around you from underneath your ass, holding you tightly to his face while he used the other hand to prop himself up slightly, pushing closer, easily getting lost in the beautiful heat of your pussy. He moaned against you as he drank you in, lavishing his tongue up and down your folds, intently focusing on the perfect little bead of your clit while it bounced and thrummed over his tongue. 

Your body sang for more of his attention, shaking like a signal for him as you were wracked with more uncontrollable moans. He heard more distant groans in his muffled ears and hardly attributed them to himself, getting too lost in you, enjoying your taste too much. He was far too intent on burying himself in the first warmth he had felt in years, now determined to shut out the cold and make a new home for himself between these perfect thighs. Especially if it meant making you moan like this more, hearing more of his cursed name on your precious lips. 

“Draco, Draco, oh, fuck! Draco, please!” 

At this point, you weren’t even entirely sure what you were begging for - for him to bring you to orgasm, for him to stop because it was so overwhelming, or for something else entirely. His name just felt so right on your lips. Somehow, he seemed to understand better, seemed to know something that even you didn’t. 

He rumbled out a hum of acknowledgement against your cunt, and then, snuck his free hand up between your thighs. He teased two fingers against your fluttering entrance, slippery and off-target for a moment with his shaking hand - making you moan out brokenly as you felt the touches not quite where you needed them most. 

“I’ve - I’ve got you, love,” 

He said, pulling away for a moment to gulp down breaths - feeling spiteful of the air, spiteful of the minimal space between the two of you; spiteful of the fact that he felt like he was drowning and somehow forcing himself further into you wasn’t the solution. 

“I’ve got you.” 

You curled your fingers into his hair again and tugged him close, pulling him back to your pussy, and he decided that he would never breathe again if that’s what you so desired. He swept a flat tongue across your pussy, eagerly gulping down more of your wetness while he gently pushed those two slender fingers forward, finally inside of you for the first time. 

Your heat was even more evident now, even more apt to drive him insane. Your pussy surrounding him turned his cold flesh warm within seconds, causing him to drive forward without even thinking, eagerly chasing more of that warmth against his touch. Part of his mind was thankful when you let out a beautiful moan in response and wiggled your hips closer to him, rather than feeling pain at the harsh, sudden, jabbing intrusion, and the other part of him selfishly didn’t care. 

You had offered this up to him, you had begged him not to turn away - and now, you would have to face the consequences of inviting a cold, dead beast into your den to feast. He was lonely, he hungered - he would consume everything good inside of you and leave you with nothing. And it would be your own damn fault. 

Draco moaned against your cunt again, feeling that hunger now more evidently than ever, and you squeaked and choked on the air as he began fingering you harshly. He was desperate to feel more warmth, to explore more of that velvet softness inside of you that he so badly wanted wrapped around his cock (nearly forgotten, throbbing, leaking into his pants and making a mess). But he somehow couldn’t think too much about his forgotten cock when your next words overtook his mind. 

“Close-” You breathed out, and then sucked in more air. “So close - gonna cum!” 

You were going to cum. 

You were going to become unravelled on his tongue. 

Draco moaned against you fervently, now wildly eager for this to happen. He suckled against your clit and harshly rubbed his tongue over that tortured little bead even more furiously. He continued to fuck you with his fingers while your thighs clamped around his head, further shutting out the world, allowing him to have a few precious moments where all those deadly responsibilities simply didn’t exist. In those moments - it was just you and him. It was just his own carnal greed, a man fucking his wife. Just the small precious world he had balanced on his bitter tongue. 

“Draco!” You choked out his name as your orgasm overtook your body. 

You arched up again, your body practically whipping to his whims, being played like an instrument that only he knew the songs to. With your fingers entwined harshly in his hair, holding him to a place he would never want to part from while he mauled your pussy - it was perfect. 

He moaned against you and nearly choked on the juices that he eagerly drank down, pumping his fingers into you with sharp jabbing motions, any effort toward technique completely gone. His mind was nothing but a pathetic soup of desperation, an animal clawing toward your warmth, determined to suck the life out of you and have it for his own. 

Your cries of pleasure turned into sobs as you were crested over the hill into overstimulation, and when Draco pulled away for a breath, you thought perhaps he might finally let up. That he might pull his fingers out of you and the two of you would simply take a quiet moment to breathe. 

But while your thighs continued to shake and you sucked in harsh breaths, his shoulders became tight with something utterly vicious, and he continued to stare down your pussy with rapt attention, some beast inside of him screaming out for more. More of the life you could give him, more warmth, more of everything he would ever demand from you that you had been so foolish in offering up. More of everything that you would never supply enough of to meet the bounds of his already dead soul. 

“Draco-” You gasped. “Too much, too-” 

“Please,” 

Draco begged in return for the first time that night, peering up the length of your body to look into your eyes with the most utterly pathetic glassy eyes you had ever seen. The moment he met your gaze, it became too much for the both of you - like a stab through the gut, a connection that had always been there being tugged in the most painful way. He quickly dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut to further avoid this, pressing his forehead into your thigh as he continued to sharply spear his fingers into your pussy. This created sloppier, wetter sounds with each passing movement. 

“Please, please, please, please, please-” 

He pleaded so sweetly, yet so abrasively at the same time. Begging in a chant, in a way he never had for anything else in his life. 

And just like everything else in his life - he wasn’t denied of this. 

You strangled out another sound, and then you were seizing up again, squeezing his fingers tightly as you were slammed into another orgasm all too soon. You gulped for air like a mermaid on dry land, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes due to how overwhelming it all was, feeling as though the entire world was squeezed tight around you in those moments. 

Draco held a sob tight in his chest as the unknown ‘more’ he had been looking for flooded over his palm - more of your wetness, more of your warmth. A wonderful flood of more that soaked across your thighs and made a small puddle on the mattress beneath you. He greedily dove down to lap it up, making your thighs clench around his head as he tongued your ultra sensitive entrance and even began using his fingers to drive more of it out of you and into his waiting mouth. 

After a few moments of this, you tangled shaking fingers into his hair and did your best to force him upward. Though your body was practically jelly now, almost as if you had been jinxed, and completely devoid of any strength. He did soon get the hint, and he laid a gentle kiss on your inner thigh as he slid his fingers out of you, making an oddly loud ‘squelching’ sound in the room. 

He trailed a few more kisses across your pelvis, revisited your breast, and went up your neck with his now very wet mouth before you pulled his mouth against your own. You couldn’t help but to moan quietly in satisfaction at the taste of your pussy on his tongue. 

Draco thought this might be the end of it. His own cock was even more nagging now - rubbing against the warm, inviting plushness of your thigh through his pants. It was even more annoying now that he intimately knew the warmth and wetness of your cunt. That he could so perfectly imagine what it would be like to slide his cock inside of you and feel that perfect, hot wetness surrounding him. 

But part of him, something in the back of his mind was screaming: bad idea. Something persistent and loud was telling him that he didn’t deserve to fuck you. That this should be a worship, only about you - he’d had his selfish moment, it was over now. 

An alarming clarity was rocketing back into his head as he continued to kiss you. 

It was an alarm that blared ever louder when you reached for his belt. 

He snapped away from your lips and looked down, frozen with hesitant shock now as you slipped the belt out of the buckle and reached for the zipper on his pants. When you felt him tense up, and saw the grimace forming across his features, you paused with your fingers grazing lightly over the zipper’s teeth. 

“It’s your turn now, right?” 

You breathed lightly against his cheek, your voice so sweet, so perfect. You were too damn perfect. You snuck your hand down to grope his cock through the fabric of his pants in a way that made him shudder. Oddly enough, that selfish streak didn’t creep back in. 

“Come on, Draco. I want this too. I want your cock inside me so damn badly-” 

This was about you. Your needs. Your wants. 

Draco tried his best to push aside any hesitation, trying to push the world back out again. He wished he could just crawl back between your thighs and live there. But you wanted something different now. Something that meant a lot more. Something that might have bigger consequences than simply spilling a beautiful mess on his jacket that was crumpled beneath your perfect arse. 

He sat up on his knees, shucking away your hands and replacing them with his own, getting the zipper down by himself. Finally, he got his cock out, the hard smoothness now resting against his fingers that were still slick with you. He pumped his cock a few times, almost numb to the pleasure of it - he was supposed to be enjoying this, right? Why the hell couldn’t he? 

Because his damn mind had turned back on. 

You looked up at him with wide eyes, anticipating, your skin glistening with a slight sheen from his earlier efforts, your lips kiss-swollen. And somehow, a terrible flurry of thoughts attacked his mind like the snow storm raging outside the stone walls of the castle. Horrible things all able to get in now that he didn’t have the fatal projection of your thighs around his ears, keeping the world out. 

As you looked up at him, more angelic than ever with your kiss-bitten lips, your silver sparkle dress askew, revealing your smooth skin and your goddess-like body - Draco, with his hard cock in hand, was persistently reminded of one stupid thing. The reason that the two of you had been forced together in the first place. 

The only reason any pureblood marriage is arranged: to carry on the pureblood line. To breed - to make more pureblood babies.

Draco found himself curling in disgust at the idea that this was what he was about to do. He was about to give into their whims, about to curse you even further with the evil of his name by fucking a little Malfoy into your belly. 

Somehow, out of all the evil he had so carelessly committed himself to - this was something he just couldn’t bring himself to do. Not when he would be doing it to you. 

“Draco-” 

You breathed out his name again, concerned by the clear warring on his face. You were about to tell him that it was okay if he didn’t want to continue - and you became deeply confused by what he did next. 

He gripped his cock tightly and began rocking his arm back and forth, quickly picking up an urgent, break-neck pace as he jerked his cock - his face twisting with an expression of near pain as he circled a tight fist over his cock, urgently, again and again. 

“Draco-?” You tried to question him, but he let out a groan in response. 

“Look at me.” He choked out. 

Zapped by the electricity in the air, the sharp demanding in his words, your eyes flew right to his. You found yourself almost possessed by the emotions lingering there - lust, regret, hatred. 

You had a distinct feeling that it wasn’t directed at you. 

“It’s okay.” You breathed out, reaching out to put a gentle hand on his clothed thigh. “It’s okay, Draco.” 

These simple words - this tiny pacification that Draco had never before received - he broke. Your gentleness tore through his body like a dragon tearing into a fresh kill. It wounded him in a way that insults never could. 

He let out a strangled cry, and unexpectedly, his orgasm punched through his gut - tears flooded his eyes as weak spurts of cum flowed out of his cock, making a mess of his fist as he slowed his touch. His release dripped down to ruin his pants, and weakly splashed against the bareness of your inner thighs were the hole in your tights gaped open, smearing onto the nylon in some spots. 

When Draco was sure that he had wrung the last bits of weak pleasure from his cock, he fell on top of you. It was something entirely against his will, as he was now all too weakened by your soothing words, your soft touch, your welcoming eyes that seemed far too forgiving toward him. With his face tucked against your breast, tired and unable to hold it back any longer - he began to sob. 

It was a dam broken from months, possibly years - a mask that he had been putting on long before you had ever known him. 

It was an inherent shock to your system, going from that lustful tingle to feeling nothing but shock and pity for him. But you did the only thing you could do - you cradled the back of his head, holding him close, petting a hand down his heaving back in an attempt to comfort him while he wailed so harshly. You knew that it was what he needed. And it was what he had done for you all too many times since meeting you. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” 

You assured him, not entirely sure that he heard your gentle voice over the sound of his own sobs - your throat too sore from your own previous wrecked moaning to try and speak up any louder. 

“It’s okay. Shh. Just let it out. I’m here with you. It’s okay, Draco.” 

It went on like that for what felt like hours. Your previously sex heated skin became cold in the room once again, distinctly reminding you of every single spot that was ripped open and exposed by your already weather inappropriate outfit. But instead of getting up to attend to this, you simply laid there, soothing him, trying to comfort him as his chest-racking sobs lulled down into calmer cries and then died off into sniffles. 

You thought he might say something - thank you, apologise. 

You were even further surprised when his sounds switched again, and a low chuckle came from his throat. A small sound that quickly hitched into an epic, near maniacal laughter, puffing against your breast as he tried his hardest to heave himself up on weak arms, tearing out of your comforting touch. 

He looked utterly broken - his previously near hair a complete mess, falling across his sweat streaked forehead, his teeth bared, laughing so tiredly with tears streaking down from his now red, puffy eyes. 

“Merlin - I’m so fucking pathetic, aren’t I?” He choked out. 

“You’re not.” You argued, your voice dull and hoarse but still firm in your conviction. 

You wanted him to know that it was okay to cry. That under his circumstances, anybody would have snapped a lot sooner than he had. 

He didn’t reply, but instead moved to get off you entirely. He stumbled on his feet for a moment as he stood up and began straightening out his clothes, finding his wand and muttering some cleaning spells to deal with the mess he had left on his pants. 

You sat up then, your back now quite sore from the poor quality of the abandoned old mattress. And from having Draco stiff on top of you for so long, and you began doing the same to yourself. He watched quietly as you righted your clothes and did a few simple (talented, wandless) cleaning spells of your own, and then finally, he spoke. 

“You should leave.” 

He said quietly, moving to turn away from you completely as he tucked his shirt back into his pants. He was likely going to slip into the confusing maze of furniture that he knew better than you did in order to lose you - to avoid further conversation. 

“No.” 

You baulked out defiantly, making an effort to heave your stiff body up to standing level in order to look him in the eye. 

“You can’t keep doing that!” You shouted at his back, growing frustrated once again. “You can’t keep running away from a conversation every time it gets a little too serious for you!” 

“What do you expect that I do, then?” Draco asked, his voice strained with fatigue and heaviness, his throat worn out from the tears, his eyes still red and exhausted when he whipped around to face you. 

“Stay.” You offered weakly. 

You knew that in one simple word, you were asking too much of him. You were putting such a grand task onto him that he could barely surmount to. 

His chin quivered as he bit his lip, swallowing down the weakness of the confession: 

I can’t. 

He wanted to be good enough for you. 

But he wasn’t. He just wasn’t. 

He wasn’t some perfect harbor you could cling to in a storm. He was a heavy iron anchor sinking you to your drowning death. 

Feeling all of his bitterness swelling in the air, something truly defiant came up inside of you. A deep urge to defy everything he thought he was, everything his parents had painted into him that made him run from you the moment you treated him like a person. 

You would not have a marriage where your husband held you at arm’s length. Even if you had to strangle him, smother him with your good intentions in order to get him close. 

“Draco, please, I lov-” 

“No.” Draco choked out, cutting you off, dreading hearing those words. “Don’t.” 

It wasn’t true. 

You were tied to him by force. 

You were someone bought into his life through gold and cruelty, someone forced to be by his side. 

If you loved him, it was as a prisoner loves their cell. 

He wouldn’t let you waste those words on him. 

You let out a harsh sigh and shook your head, wanting to scream. But you knew that he was far too used to screaming - used to harshness, frustration. He wasn’t prepared for the thing you needed to give him most. You swallowed thickly around the lump in your throat, and whispered your next words as a cursed promise into the chilled air: 

“I love you, Draco.” 

He sucked in a rattling breath, and it only took him a moment to find the strength to fight back. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

He said, shaking his head forcefully at you, once again resisting the urge to turn around and slink off. He wanted to slither away and hide from you like the serpent that he was - cold blooded, alone, a creature of the shadows who previously never needed your warmth. 

“Shut up!” 

You barked back, surprising him with the passion, the fury that lit up your face as you rambled into your next declaration. 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy - you may think that you know everything, but I can assure you, you do not.” 

He wanted to argue, even opened his mouth to do so, but you rolled right over his breath, speaking in such a powerful way that demanded he quiet down and simply listen. 

“Your family may have bought me to marry you like some kind of broodmare, you may be rich and respected, you may be some fancy highborn pureblood - you can tell me what to wear, when to speak, where to go, but you certainly cannot tell me about my own thoughts and intentions. You cannot tell me what I feel.” 

You spoke sharply and firmly, your words tearing right through him, causing goosebumps to light up all over his skin. 

“You cannot tell me what I do and don’t mean. And I mean this: I love you.” 

The radical truth behind your words shook Draco to his core. 

Since he had known you, it had always been the truth. When you cried, it had always been with your own honesty. When you smiled at him, it had never been as some kind of act. When you called him an asshole during your private conversations - it was nothing but your own honest feelings coming to words. 

He could never control or dictate your feelings, and it was one of the things that he liked best about you. 

So why did he so badly want to control this? 

Perhaps because… when you said this, it sealed your fate to his in the worst of ways. 

It meant that even if you had a chance to escape this life… you wouldn’t take it. 

It was so much easier when you didn’t like him at all. 

Love was such a foolish, difficult thing to sever. 

You saw the pain and hesitation written all over his face, and you stepped toward him, putting a gentle hand on his cheek. Oh-so-gently you sealed your lips against his in a sweet kiss that evoked nothing but more tears from him. 

“I love you.” 

You whispered against his mouth, now much more certain in your declaration. 

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you,” 

Your throat clenched with your own tears, clearly waiting for him to say it back. 

His fingers shook as he brought a gentle touch to your cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen. Sullenly, all he could offer you in return was: 

“Are you sure? Are you sure that you can love someone like me?” 

You were entirely certain in your answer. 

“Yes.” 

Draco itched with the urge to run away again - but instead, he leaned back in and kissed you. 

That night, the two of you fell asleep together. You were huddled into each other for warmth, cuddling on the thin old mattress that he had been sleeping on for the past week in order to escape you. It was the easiest that sleep had come to him since the days during the summer where you had crawled into his bed, looking to be just a bit less alone. 

… 

Ironically, Draco woke up alone. 

Sunshine was flooding the room - he wasn’t entirely sure how a room that technically didn’t exist within Hogwarts could have windows, but he didn’t care to think too much about it. Especially because it made him feel slightly less disoriented to have the bright morning sun flooding the room. Though the sunshine warmed up the room slightly, he still felt a bitter coldness in not having you beside him. 

Perhaps you had finally realised what a stupid mistake you had made the night before. Perhaps you had taken your own advice - taken up on your own plan and gotten to a fireplace to abandon Hogwarts altogether. With any luck, you were far away and would never be seen again. Not by him or anybody else associated with the Dark Lord. 

Draco felt a pinch of disappointment when he heard footsteps - calm, certain, someone walking a path among the furniture to be somewhere. Not someone wandering with curiosity because they had just discovered the room. It had to be you. 

He sucked in a harsh breath and let out a groan as his tired body stretched, his muscles protesting the shabby sleeping arrangements as he forced himself to sit up. Surely enough, as he blinked through the sharpness of the morning light, you rounded the corner. 

You were dressed much differently than the night before. Your previously neat hair was now a half-picked apart and messy style, your make-up mostly smeared off or intentionally wiped off in a haste. You were wearing a thick woollen jumper and a pair of comfortable looking loose pants, along with your favourite slippers - a pair of very fuzzy boots that he had laughed at you for wearing before, called them dead Puffskeins attached to your feet. 

You looked tired, but comfortable as you came to sit on the mattress at Draco’s hip. 

Somehow, with the golden light dancing on your skin, you looked more beautiful than ever. Perhaps it was a testament to the nature of your beauty, how sought after you would be if you weren’t already betrothed. Or perhaps it was that petulant withering thing inside of him that was starting to wane in the name of your death sentence of love. 

(Draco didn’t want to think about the fact that you likely were sought after, despite the fact that you were engaged and it was widely known. He just didn’t have his head in the Hogwarts gossip enough these days to notice if anybody was talking about fancying you or trying to ‘steal you away’ from him. He didn’t want to think about the prats he would have hexed to hell and back if he ever heard them daring to want you.) 

You took something out of the pocket of your jumper - a napkin, and unravelled it in your lap. Draco saw that you had come back with a couple of pumpkin tarts, likely from the breakfast table. It was only when you brought it up to your lips to take a sip that he also noticed you had also been carrying a large mug of steaming tea. 

You offered him the mug silently over your shoulder, and he couldn’t deny how appealing it was. Though he wanted to scoff at the softness, the domesticity of sharing something off your lips, he welcomed the heat and the familiarity. He couldn’t reject it in the wintery coldness of the room. 

Of course - English Breakfast Tea with just a bit of sugar. No milk. You had started drinking your tea the way he liked it. Probably because it was the way he always made it for you when you were silent and stony in your pain and he had no other choice but to be just as silent in his caring toward you. He always made tea for you this way because you never told him how you liked yours. Every cup of tea you drank at The Manor had been like this. 

It was an odd, comforting habit that you had picked up from him. 

“I fixed it.” You said quietly, nodding toward The Cabinet as you broke off a piece of one of your tarts and chewed it. 

You offered him a piece and he swapped it for the tea mug. He chewed the small piece of tart slowly while his eyes studied the tall, dark, imposing Cabinet, wondering what you had done to it. His gaze migrated over to something new in the landscape of junk - a bird cage sitting on top of a small wooden table. 

Within it, there was a live, seemingly content, purring white dove. In front of the cage, you had perched up a piece of paper. Even from a few feet away, Draco recognised the curls of the handwriting as belonging to his mother. 

‘Well done.’ 

He wanted to ask in detail about what you had done to The Cabinet in order to fix it. But he knew that would be beating a dead horse. It was another problem off his plate, and he should be relieved. 

He wouldn’t burden you with any of his other problems. 

“I miss coffee.” You remarked, looking down into the mug with a sodden kind of resentment. “British people are all about tea, tea, tea… you can’t get good coffee anywhere here.” 

Distantly, Draco was reminded that you had been cursed with more than a marriage to him when your godmother dropped you off with the Malfoys and left you without warning. Your entire life, everything you had known, everything you had grown up with - it had all been ripped away from you. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he had to be pulled away from his parents, plopped into the middle of Muggle America and forced to live there. 

He knew it wasn’t just coffee - you likely missed so much more. 

“Should we release it?” You asked, taking another sip of the tea. 

You held out another piece of the tart to him, and reluctantly, perhaps not even knowing how hungry he was, how much the anxiety and worry had blocked him from feeling it - he took it. 

“What?” He muttered out, unsure what you meant. 

“The dove.” You clarified. 

Yes. Of course. You still had pity for the small creatures. It had been meant as nothing more than a test subject for his family’s greater plans, nothing but a pawn to them. But you still saw it as a precious life. 

“No, it-” 

‘It’ll die out there in the cold.’ 

Draco cut himself off, knowing that such harsh words would have hurt you. Any time before this, he would not have cared about how his words hurt you - he would have simply told you the truth. But for some reason, now - it felt wrong to be so bluntly cruel. 

“Too cold.” He muttered, accepting the tea from you again. 

You stared him down during this passing of the mug, and he was fully able to see that pain glinting in your eyes. Clearly, you knew that ‘disposing’ of the bird might be the only humane thing to do. Draco scrambled for something more. Something to make you happy. Damn it. 

“Bring it to the giant.” He remarked, swallowing down a mouthful of the hot tea. “He’ll care for it now, and he can release it in the spring.” 

The smile that graced your lips was small, and fleeting - but it made him feel as though he had accomplished something worthwhile for the first time in a long time. 

“Do you think he will? It won’t be too much trouble?” You replied, hopeful. 

“He has to. It’s his job.” Draco bit back firmly, his voice swelling full of his usual entitlement. 

Before - when you had been helping him clean up after he had gotten The Mark, you had discovered one of the fading scars he still had from the feathered beast’s claws slashing across his arm. When you had asked him about it, you had clearly been expecting some story of his father’s abuse, or a tale of something else attributing to Draco’s twisted internal torment. 

But Draco’s father was always smart enough never to leave marks. 

When he told you what had happened - how he had rushed upon such a gentle creature, reeking of entitlement and landed on his stupid idiot brat arse - it was the first time in years that he had truly reflected on what had happened. It was the first time he had come to realize that he had gotten the beast killed. Even back then, he was unsure why his father had caused such a fuss over the accident. Someone who called Draco useless and disposable behind closed doors and publicly claimed that a single mark on his arm was a world-ending tragedy. 

At the time, it was just another thing about reputation that Draco had yet to understand. 

“And - he likes those things. He likes his little creatures.” He added on quietly. 

(And, his big awful ones - Draco resisted the urge to amend.) 

Draco couldn’t take your bird there himself. Hagrid owed him no favors, that much he knew. But the man - or, half-man - certainly wouldn’t turn you down. Nobody would say no to your sweet voice and kind eyes when you asked them for something. 

You nodded, content with this answer. You took another sip of the tea before you put the cup down on the floor beside the mattress, and shoved a large piece of the tart into your mouth before you put that aside too. 

“For now, I have to bury this one.” 

You said, your words slightly muffled as you chewed, getting up to grab a small wooden box. In a moment, Draco realised that it must have been the dead canary that you had fussed over the night before. 

Now, you were telling him that you intended to bury it, rather than asking him. 

“I’ll do it.” He said, standing up to come beside you, holding out his hand so that you might offer him the box. 

You looked him up and down with suspicion, like he was trying to trick you. Although, as much as your relationship had been filled with bickering and discontent, he had never been dishonest with you. This just seemed strangely out of character for him. Before you could fully question it, he provided an explanation. 

“You’ve been awake all night fixing my problems,” He said, motioning toward The Cabinet. “So let me help you with yours.” 

He could see that you had barely slept. It was written all over you. 

“Let me do this for you.” He insisted, holding his hand out once again. “And you go to the dorms and get some proper rest.” 

You nodded, finally surrendering the box. 

“Come find me when you’re done, alright?” You said, not entirely posing it as a question. “Don’t disappear on me again.” 

Draco nodded, and you sealed this deal with a kiss. 

…

He intended to walk you back to the Slytherin commons before he went outside, perhaps he would even get himself a thicker jacket from his dorm. Your path took the two of you past the Great Hall. 

Draco felt a pang on one of his last nerves when a very familiar voice called out your name. 

“Y/N! Hey, wait up!” 

Potter. Of course. 

You turned to meet Harry as he ran down the corridor toward you, and Draco slinked back to lean against one of the nearby walls - waiting for you. He hated that he felt the need to stick by you, to watch over you. But something nagging in him wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew that you were tucked into bed, resting. 

Potter jogged to meet you, wearing full Quidditch gear, carrying his broom - clearly set for an early morning practice. This caused an odd pang of mourning within Draco, yearning for a time when he used to be competitive, for when he used to actually care about the outcomes of school Quidditch games. Back when his life was so simple. 

“Morning, Harry.” You greeted him quietly, dully, obviously still tired. 

“Hey, good morning.” Harry said, nodding at you with a smile - a look way too fond for Draco’s liking. “You left the party so suddenly last night, and Slughorn was asking after you. Nobody knew where you went, and I was just wondering - are you alright? Did something happen?” 

Harry eyed Draco sharply, a sideways glance, just for a moment. Clearly, he was suspicious of Malfoy and his presence around you. Clearly believing that he was the problem in your life. 

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course. Saint Potter. Checking up on you. 

Part of Draco itched with jealousy, knowing just how utterly desirable you were, and another part of him said that it was a good thing. That you should have somewhere safe to fall when you inevitably realised a life with him was a short, unlivable one. When you wanted out, when you wanted to run. 

Hopefully, sometime soon. 

“I’m fine.” You easily lied, forcing a smile. “It’s just - um,” You struggled to think of a convenient lie for a moment, knowing that you couldn’t tell Harry the truth. “My pet canary died very suddenly. And Draco came to get me to tell me about it. And I’m sorry, I must look terrible - I’ve been up all night crying about it,” 

Draco wanted to commend you for the brilliance of your lie. Something sensitive enough that Potter wouldn’t question it - something that easily explained the small box in Draco’s hands and explained away your tired appearance. And it more than explained why you had left the party so suddenly and not cared to return. 

“Oh.” Harry said, clearly unsure how to respond. His eyes flickered from you to Draco, taking in both of your messy appearances, clearly wanting to question it as something more, but having absolutely no grounds to do so. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” 

“Thank you.” You replied quietly. “Draco actually offered to bury him for me. So, he was just going to do that.” 

“Let’s get you to bed, first, love.” Draco said, pointedly steering you away from the conversation - banishing Potter off with this final thought. 

He put a hand on your shoulder and steered you down the hall, away from Harry, and you began slowly walking away, believing that he was right behind you. But Harry stayed firm in his footing, and soon, Draco became captured in his fierce gaze, challenged in an all too familiar way that he was far too tired to truly engage with. In a kind of well practiced routine, he lingered back for a few moments. 

“Malfoy,” Potter said sharply. “If you do anything to hurt her, I will end you.” 

It was his usual hero routine. Intimidate, swell with confidence, over-inflate to seem bigger than the bad guy. It would have worked, if Draco hadn’t already been so terribly small. 

“Promise?” Draco croaked out quietly, tears dancing in his eyes. 

He could think of no better end than one of vengeance in the wake of your pain. He could only hope that if he did ever hurt you, he would be met with a clean, swift end. One where you would then get to run into the arms of a man much better than him. 

Potter gaped with confusion, and Draco turned, walking in quick steps to catch up with you. 

…

You and Draco stayed at Hogwarts that Christmas. 

On Christmas morning, you did not expect to receive anything. Pansy gifted you a set of new quills in pink with a set of pink glittering inks and a fluttering giggle about being able to write ‘proper’ love letters to Draco. Blaise gifted you a history of all the Pureblood families in Europe - for ‘proper’ education. One that you had never been ‘privileged’ to have before. 

There was another package, delivered by a gorgeous white snowy owl - a book. A basic guide to Quidditch with a handwritten note that said it was from Harry, remarking that you should come to his next game and ‘check it out’, in order to see if you truly liked the sport or not. 

At the party, you had told him that you probably didn’t like Qudditch because you didn’t understand it very well, hoping to get out of a long conversation that he and Cormac were rambling on - which only led to him trying to explain the rules to you in a toddler-like fashion. You couldn’t tell him the truth, that when you had been at Salem, the Quidditch games between the two sibling schools usually led to a lot of loud parties and drunken hook-ups that made you mourn for the simplicity of your old life now. 

Draco resisted the urge to throw the book into the fire. 

(You gladly would have let him.) 

There was a final package. One wrapped in gorgeous emerald paper - with your name on it, written in Draco’s handwriting. Oddly, not signed from him. When you opened it, you found a bag of very expensive looking coffee beans, a grinder, and a French press. Draco would forever deny that his joy was directly tied to the look of awe on your face as you discovered the gifts, and the tiny moan of pleasure you made when you sipped your first cup of freshly made coffee. 

He didn’t love you back. 

He couldn’t. 

No.

...

A/N: This is meant to be a standalone oneshot, but if you liked this, then feel free to go read the chronological sequel My Bleeding Heart. I do have more ideas to add more to this by writing more oneshots in this universe between these two characters, but this is all for now. If you are going to comment, please comment about the content that has already been written instead of asking for more. Happy reading, and Merry Christmas!

[jaythes1mp]

Masterlist

Jay, 20m, Aussie-South African

I make yandere content with the Batfam and Slytherin boys

Requests are open and encouraged! Platonic and Romantic yanderes welcome.

Published works:

-> Your Secrets Are Ours, Kid -> CH1, CH2, CH3, CH4, CH5, CH6, CH7, CH8, CH9, CH10,

-> Ghosts -> Oneshot.

-> Here, Kitty -> CH1, CH2, CH3,

-> Shallow -> CH1,

Other posts:

-> Robin Reader, -> Puppy Reader, -> Alternative Animal Reader, -> Professional Player Reader, -> Deer Reader, -> More on PPR, -> Plus Sized Reader -> Escapism -> Goldfish Reader -> Extra Goldfish Reader -> Bear/Elephant Reader -> Anon Scenarios -> Ponyo Reader -> Yan BatBoys 01 -> Cigarette Dog Toy w Puppy Reader -> Gender Rules ->

Related asks:

-> Your Secrets Are Ours, Kid -> 「1」 「2」

-> Here, Kitty -> 「1」 「2」 「3」 「4」 「5」 「6」 「7」 「8」 「9」 「10」 「11」 confession

-> Shallow -> 「1」

(??) -> The Incident -> 「1」 「2」

Fanart:

-> Jason holding up Cat Reader -> Cat Reader on Bruce’s shoulder -> Knocking coffee onto an important document -> Cat reader w Damian -> Cat Reader on Jason’s bike -> Sad Kitten Reader -> No context Kitten Reader -> Raccoon Reader meeting Alfred -> Anon Scenarios -> Merfolk Reader -> Cat Reader Denied Pizza -> Ponyo Reader -> Cat Reader found a gun -> Taking Cat Reader’s claws ->

Anons: ⭐️,🪼,

Taglist questions

Everything posted on this platform is made entirely by me. A shit load of time and effort goes into every post that I make, so I’d appreciate it if it stayed on this page. I do not have any other platforms where I post this kind of work. Please don’t plagiarise my content🙏🙏

[slytherinslut0]

-> mattheo riddle

disclaimer: hogwarts uni au always. chars are always 19+.

-> LEGEND

(*) indicates smut

(•) indicates wip

-> SERIES

✰ beg for me *

- my baby. my pookie. my heart fic. i poured my soul into this book, 30 whole chapters of it. this book is pure filth for a solid 27 of those. a very rocky road to a beautiful love story between mattheo riddle and you, his ravenclaw tutor. it’s story of growth, of learning how to love and be loved, for everyone involved. (starts out where you’re literally his fucktoy but *insert kermit drinking tea emoji here*)

-> ONESHOTS

✰ we aren’t over *

- one of the first shots i’d ever written. fwb (matty) gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off.

✰ we are done *

- mattheo ended things with you after a fight over your concern for his safety, and when he lands himself in the hospital wing due to his recklessness, you pay him a visit, eager to get your revenge. (sub matty afff. also bloodplay)

✰ couldn’t help yourself *

- after teasing your boyfriend during a lecture, he drags you into a broom closet and fucks you brainless. (extremely feral angry dom mattheo in this one.)

✰ let me fuck you *

- worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally can't take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet. (he’s beggingggg)

✰ focus *

- you and matty are exhausted after a long, chaotic day. you just wanna watch your show, but your insatiable ass bf has other plans.

-> HEADCANNONS

✰ slytherin boys • jealousy

✰ slytherin boys • teasing

✰ slytherin boys • enemies w/tension

✰ slytherin boys • nightmare

-> ALSO FEATURED IN

✰ why not both?*

- mattheo x reader x theodore. yes. this is a filthy ass threesome. nuff said.

✰ everyone wants to fuck mattheo riddle until*

✰ req: mattheo riddle x plus size reader

✰ req: overstimulation*

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders drabbles (1/3)

page 2, page 3

☁︎ = headcanon ✩ = 18+, mdni ♡ = mae's favs

The marauders are fascinated with their artist!gf ☁︎

The marauders reassure you when you're insecure in your relationship

Marauders x a reader who's hyper-independent ♡

The boys get jealous of your new friend

You give them gifts for your one-month anniversary

The marauders love their individualized pet names

Overprotective!marauders when you sneak out to a party ♡ | cont.

They think you're breaking up with them after an argument

The boys help when you're having period cramps

Poly!marauders x sunshine!reader

Poly!marauders x overwhelmed sunshine!reader

You worry others are judging your relationship, and the boys comfort you

They help you when you dissociate

You tell the boys you love them (and you get there first)

A calm, domestic morning with the marauders ♡

A semi-calm, domestic night

You get an anxious stomachache, and they help

The marauders discover Target

Poly!marauders and casual dominance

The boys keep coming to your work (totally not to flirt with you)

Poly!marauders x Slytherin!reader who's stressed about school

You don't realize you're flirting, but they don't not like it

The boys are shocked when you swear

The boys are not at all shocked when you swear

They react to you flinching during an argument

The boys help when you have an allergic reaction

There's no way the marauders are flirting with you (except they are)

Poly!marauders x plus size!reader when you're feeling insecure

They learn that sometimes you just need time alone

Your boyfriends think your plushies are adorable

The boys help with your pre-presentation anxiety

They think you're gorgeous with or without glasses

Apocalypse au

When you're reunited ♡ Dancing around the fire You get hypothermia

You all take care of Remus before a full moon

platonic!marauders (+Lily) help you decorate your apartment

The boy help (some more than others) when you can't say what you mean

You and the marauders choose your group Halloween costume

Rockstar!marauders x rockstar!reader

They love your curly hair

The marauders when you come back to school seeming fragile

They take care of you when you're sick

Sleepy aftercare with bratty!reader ♡

The boys comfort you after a panic attack

Poly!marauders x tall!reader when you're insecure about your height

You and the boys figure out you want to be together

They react to you crying over a book

Protective!marauders watch out for you at a party

Poly!marauders x hyperactive!reader

The boys are (lovingly) exasperated when you forget your meds

Roommate!marauders when you come home tipsy

They realize you've been hiding your food

Your boyfriends comfort you before a trip to the doctor

The marauders love your fancy socks

Plus size!reader and shying away from touch

Sirius and you gush about your boyfriends in French

Bodyguard!marauders with sunshine!reader ♡

Bodyguard!marauders when you keep sneaking off

They're casually dominant when you're stressed out ♡

Poly!marauders x (raccoon)animagus!reader

The boys make a competition of abstinence

They worry when you spend too long in the rain

Your first morning with the marauders

You come out to the boys as non-binary

When you and James come home drunk ♡

They throw you a surprise party

You are not on the same page about shower temperatures

You all have a talk about self-harm

The marauders do their damndest to flummox shy!reader (it's not hard)

You hide a black eye from them

Tall!reader teases the boys

They talk you through a friend breakup

They comfort you after you hit an animal with your car

You and the boys enjoy a domestic time during the holidays ♡

You all oggle James

Emt!marauders come to your rescue after a car accident ♡ | cont.

The boys comfort you when you don't get into your top school

Your emt boyfriends are called after a mishap at work

Short!reader teams up with Remus to give the other boys shit

Your emt boyfriends help when you hurt your back

They want you to let them comfort you after a nightmare

The marauders love your weight gain ♡

You call emt!marauders when you're having a panic attack

Your boyfriends learn about social burnout

The boys coddle a touched starved!you ♡

Roommate!marauders get a teensy bit jealous during a night out

Your emt boyfriends comfort you through vertigo ♡ | cont.

Whimsical!reader tries some alternative healing methods

They bring you, high and giggly, to an aquarium

Sleepy aftercare with the boys ✩

Your boyfriends know how to share ✩

They reassure you it's okay to have boundaries ✩

[sleyu]

all i everrrr think abt is post argument over something like reader being too close to a male friend and reader being oblivious to it, n ron being lowk a lil mean abt it but he ends up feeling badd w makeup sexxxx after & soft cuddly ronn

nooo because i just saw a tik tok about this exact scenario (it was the harry potter boys react to videos<3) where you wake up late for class, and ron, who’s already sitting in the classroom waiting for you, wondering where the actual hell you are, sees you walk in late with another boy who just so happened to be late as well.

buttttt we all know ron and how jealous he can get. his jealousy prevents him from abandoning any form of reason and he automatically becomes suspicious and assumes that there’s something going on between you and that guy. you sit down beside him and before you can even smile or say ‘hi,’ to your flushed boyfriend, he immediately pulls you close and whispers, ‘who the fuck was that and why’d you both come in late.’

actually, you’d be lucky if ron actually communicated his curiosity and jealousy, because the more likely scenario would be him brushing you off and rolling his eyes every time you’d speak to him. and you would be so confused :( you woke up late, didn’t get to have breakfast or kiss your boyfriend good morning, and now he’s being a big fat meanie ? the atmosphere in the room where the two of you would be together would be simply tense. ron would either glare at you, and when he relieved you of his scowling, he’d begin glower menacingly at the boy who walked with you to class.

he genuinely doesn’t care about the idea of it being a mere coincidence if he was already in a bad mood. he gets sooo possessive, especially when he gets regularly taunted by the slytherin’s for literally everything, but ever since the two of you began dating, he just feels extra threatened and is scared that someone is gonna steal you away :( the thought of some guy even being within 5m radius to you is enough to make his blood boil and his cheeks flush.

eventually, he gets soooo antsy that he corners you in an empty corridor and demands you to tell him who he was and why you would miss your daily walks to walk in with some other guy. what’s nice about ron is that it doesn’t take much to reassure him on the spot. all you really have to do his wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tiptoes, emphasizing his height, and press a soft, loving kiss to his lips. your doe eyes, combined with a cute little pout on your lips, plus the slight tilt of your head in confusion is enough to have him apologizing for how he acted throughout the day :(

‘i’m sorry, love, it’s just—ah—i’m tense and—uh—i really missed you this morning,’ i’m sorry but he can’t communicate for shit so it’s better to just cut him off with a kiss and let him express his sorry to you physically.

hhh makeup sex with ron is so good because even after making up with him, even after all the apologies and reassuring, each thrust of his hips feels so territorial, as if he’s trying to engrave himself inside you, claiming you for himself. even though he whispers that he’s sorry and that he’ll try his best to control his feelings next time, you can still tell that the way he’s pounding into you is almost as if he’s trying to prove a point: that you’re no one else’s but his and that nothing in the world could take you away from him.

he’d groan in your ears, slow his pace to kiss you on the lips, ‘all mine, yeah? you’re all for me, y/n, aren’t you?’ HHHH

he hates himself for it, but he gets such a kick out of how small you look and how big you make him feel as he’s fucking you. your mewls, the way your eyebrows furrow, as if you’re almost overwhelmed by his size and each rut boosts his ego to the max and only makes him want to fuck you harder :( you just looks so pretty and ronald weasley is a firm believer in the fact that pretty girls deserved to get fucked well !

and you best believe, he’s leaving hickeys all over you. maybe not in places where other people can see (despite however much he wants to show the world that your his, he knows he’ll never hear the end of it if the twins or anyone else caught sight of the marks he left on you), but all over your breasts and inner thighs. it gets him going that he’s the only one who will ever get to leave marks in those places.

and let’s not forget his big finale. you best believe that after some good makeup sex, he is definitely cumming inside you. ron’s breeding kink is something we can discuss next time, but seeing his cum drip out of your abused, swollen cunt is the icing on the cake for him. as said in my previous ron fic, it completely solidifies and affirms the fact that he’s the only one who will ever be able to do that, and in years time, he dreams of getting you pregnant with his children to show the world that you’re his forever </3

[azrakaban]

Hiya! How are you?

May i request Slytherin x Plus size/curvy reader? (Maybe like if they would date à plus size girl, or how they would act with her etc) thank youuuu

ofc <3

-I feel like the Slytherin boys don't mind plus size girlies so long as ur pure blood unfortunately 😭

-for the sake of my ask I'm gonna say they're really not fussed, not the type to be insecure at all but if you need reassurance about ur body they're fr going to be your biggest supporter

- best believe if ur feeling shit they turn up with everything you need

-refuse to let you talk yourself down AT ALL

- probably can't believe you'd ever doubt yourself tbh?

-Smothering u in kisses and cuddles before you feel better <3

I hope this was what u were looking for my lovie <333

[certaincollectionlandblog]

Mick Schumacher with a Slytherin GF

*Disclaimer: I use Y/N and reader, but when I write this in my mind I see her as a tall plus size gal (mainly because that's my personal body type), but also because I really see Mick doing amazing with a woman like that. If there is anything I write that doesn't apply to you feel free to leave it out and like always feedback is always appreciated and loved!

Photos from Pinterest

~ Firstly Mick can deny him being a Hufflepuff all he wants (poor baby wants to be a Gryffindor so badly), but we all know the truth

~ He gives off such golden retriever boyfriend vibes which only suits his Hufflepuff self even more and you are the black cat girlfriend

~ Hufflepuffs and Slytherins are endlessly loyal and you know that you and Mick would never cheat on each other, the thought of it never even crosses y'alls mind

~ Mick looks for the best in everyone and you watch others' backs like their your own

~ Only letting a few select people see you at your weakest and Mick is in that group; Normally people assume that having a soft side means weakness, but you can soft and deadly like a poisonous flower so I don't agree that showing your soft side means showing your weakness. You're a gentle kind-hearted soul, but you're also a scary dark force to be reckoned with when the time calls for it.

~ You work hard and sometimes you feel like nothing goes to plan and that you're defeated. You hate asking for help when you struggle with your mental health because you know you're trying your best and it hurts to ask for help sometimes. Mick notices the small changes in you and doesn't say anything, but you know he knows. He starts sitting with you in silence as you work and leaving pieces of your favorite candy around the house with a post-it note of "I love you" ,"I'm so proud of you" ,"you are unstoppable", and "You are so amazing". He loves to cook and starts making your favorite dishes more than normal. Mick will write you little love letters and leave them in your car and around your office to find before he has to leave and he makes sure to have your favorite flowers delivered with a note attached of "We may be miles apart, but you know I'm always with you in your heart".

~ You both hate being the first one to let go during hugs because you never want to let go before the other one incase they need you more

~ It's you and Mick making cookies at 3am and Mick's already eaten half the cookie dough before you get them in the oven

~ You and Mick going to Universal Studios and taking the cutest couples pictures in y'alls robes

~ It's Mick wanting to go in sick for training, but you standing in the door with your arms crossed and "If you so much as get out of that bed in this condition I'm going to tie you up and not in the way you like it" while bringing him homemade soup that's a family recipe

~ "Y/N I can't say that it's mean" "Okay I'll say it for you"

~ You love sharing new fun facts you learn with Mick and he loves listening to them all, even if they are not something he's interested in.

~ You always keeping your study/office cold because it helps you think, but you keep a blanket tucked away for Mick because you know he gets cold

~ You always reading when you go on trips with each other and you are a hard core smut reader with the poker face of a professional while Mick is playing angry birds on his phone or reading a book on learning a new language and him having a heart attack after taking a glance at the paragraph you were reading

~ Overhearing someone smart off to Mick about how he'll never be as good as his father and you're already halfway to their car to put a gallon of sugar in the gas tank and anchovies on the engine

~ Mick freaking out that you forgot to eat while you were going on day three of a work worm hole

~ You stalking Mick's internet history to see what he's been searching for and buying him the gifts he won't buy for himself

~ Mick loving when you read your books to him as you guys are going to bed

~ You constantly reassuring Mick that it's okay to cut toxic people out of his life because he needs to feel loved too and you can't stand watching someone hurt him

[amongemeraldclouds]

Hello! Love your account!! Please be my friend 😊

Can i resquest 🧁smut?

of the slytherin boys, Mattheo, Tom, Theodore, Blaise, Lorenzo, Draco (headcanon or individual small story) with a plus size girlie and shes insecure about her body and the guy of choice ties her and just eats her out and not let her cum until she cried how how beautiful she is and he kinda edge her like "huh? Sorry you're going to have to be louder pretty girl" or "im sorry your beautiful thighs were covering my ears pretty girl, say it again" ans pretty much just worship her while eating her out and fucking her for like rounds after rounds

(GIRLIE I APOLOGIZE IM OVULATITING I NEED TOM AND MATTHEO SO BADLY WOOF WOOF IM SORRY 😭😭😭😭)

Love ya pookie 🤭

Hi pookie! Sorry it took me forever to answer this request, but I did not forget. I was honestly intimidated to write about a plus sized reader bc I don't feel qualified to write about it.

However I know how comforting fics can be so I hope this helps! I only wrote for Mattheo bc I'm not as familiar with Tom. Also from me to you, all bodies are equally beautiful and loveable. Sending you lots of love.

Here you go, enjoy pookie!

PS: Ofc we're friends now, no take backs 💚

[deadghosy]

𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 2

Harry Potter & Hogwarts legacy included

(Ordered by post date.)

HARRY POTTER

Platonic!Mattheo x fem!reader hcs

Slytherin boys meeting ftm!reader

Fear||Mattheo Riddle x vampire!reader

Reacting to reader scared of spiders

Banners they would have towards their enemies

Reacting to their girlfriend having scars

Green||any Slytherin boy imagine

Brat!Enzo headcannons

Tom x fem!bsf reader headcannons

Late nights with mattheo riddle

Late nights with Theodore nott

Brat!Mattheo headcannons

Mattheo with a friend that’s cunty

Tangerine||Roommate!Theodore Nott

Slytherin boys with a hufflepuff!reader

Brat!Theodore headcannons

How they think about vitiligo!reader

Theodore with a male s/o

Pink colada||Lorezno x mermaid!reader

Slytherin boys with a sassy!reader

With an adhd!gf

Love witch/wizard!reader

With a plus sized!reader

Who can handle spicy food

Comforting reader who’s parents are divorcing

Reacting to black fem!reader doing hair wash day

Puppy!mattheo x reader headcannons

Sub!mattheo x reader headcannons

Slytherin boys react to an animagus!reader

Reacting to m!reader wearing a compression shirt

Reader who hates loud noises

Weasley!reader in slytherin

Reacting to you being missing

With a prophet!reader

Talking about marriage

Childhood friends to lovers w/Draco

When they meet their favorite author

HOGWARTS LEGACY

Ominis with a male lover

Ominis & Sebastian with a blind!reader

Platonic sliver trio with m!reader hcs

SIBLING!READER

Sibling with adhd

Little brother going to Hogwarts || Little sister going to Hogwarts

Snake||sibling!Tom & Mattheo

Being the little sister of Tom and Mattheo Riddle headcannons

Curses||Big brother!Mattheo

Strawberry picking with older brother!lorezno

[asapphiccrow]

Evanescene

Mattheo Riddle x Plus size! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of addiction (I'm pretty sure that's it)

A/N: Im sorry this took so long ya'll I've been busy with work and school 😞 I hope y'all enjoy though and I promise the next chapter will come quicker then this one.

W/C: 3K

(This song has nothing to do with the plot It just reminds me of Mattheo)

Chapter 2

Familiarity of dreams

The great hall of Hogwarts was lit up with its usual hexed floating candles, and enchanted ceiling representing the breathtaking night sky. Now the sky outside had just fallen making way for the darkness that engulfed it everytime. The first day back at Hogwarts had just been completed. Everyone now amongst their friends, discussing their adventures over the break and their enthusiasm or disdain for being back at school. Though amongst all the chatter of what places people went or didn't the same discussion came up. Who was that dog from last year? Mystique, the infamous wolf or dog or hybrid, no one knew really. But she was one of the biggest talks of last year and apparently this year too. No one knew who she belonged to, where she came from, or how she kept getting into hogwarts. The professors were at a loss too. But no one seem to mind either  

“I think it’s someone's pet”, Enzo explained, “They just won’t admit it because then the dog will get kicked out”, he ended, a smirk painting his features. 

Theodore nodded along in agreement with his close friend. 

Blaise simply scoffed at this idea. “Oh please Berkshire, the animal is too big to be a dog”, an air of confidence surrounding the boy. This time Draco let out a simple, mhm, in agreement with his friend. 

Theo locked eyes with Blaise across the table, “well if you’re so smart what do you think it is then”, his features hardening into a faux serious expression. 

Zabini eagerly responded. His theory being something along the lines of hexes and guardians, curses and magical deals. It was truly all over the place. The young slytherin kept on blabbering on and on about his theory, the other sighing in annoyance. Nott put his head down on the table, regretting his prior question. He then looked over at his best mate, slightly surprised he hadn't asked Blaise to stop talking yet. The curly headed boy in question seemed to not be paying attention, his head elsewhere. Theo assumed it had something to do with rumors of a certain someone returning. Mattheo had told Nott about that night in the forest, he tried to assure the boy it was something else. Then the incident between Harry Potter and Professor Quirrell began circulating around the students. After that Theodore wasn’t sure how much he could convince the young boy that everything was ok. Nott himself wasn’t even convinced everything was ok. 

The boy was about to open his mouth to comfort or console his friend. But before he could get even a sound out Mattheo shot up, paying no mind to his now confused friends, and exited the great hall. 

“Ok what’s his deal”, Parkinson spoke up, a look of slight annoyance and confusion laced her face, “Always getting up out of nowhere and leaving all mysteriously, does he know he’s not the main character”, finishing her little rant with a scoff.

No one else said anything more about brunette's dramatic exit, all of them returning back to their prior conversations. The lot didn’t seem to care, quite used to the boys' dramatics at this point. Though the long haired girl, who sat diagonal of him, was not so convinced. Admittedly for most of dinner she had been staring. It wasn’t purposely or creepaly, for that matter. Her eyes just seemed to, unintentionally, fall on him every so often. Now because of this “unintentional” staring she saw the way the boy's eyes dropped, though his face stayed as unbothered as usual. It was a look she had seen before on others many times, a look of shock and horror. One you try so very hard not to express, but you fail every time. 

—--MATTHEO POV—--

‘Mattheo’ a voice whispered. I looked up, suspecting it was one of my friends. Though all I saw, and heard, was Blaise rambling on about his ‘interesting’ theory of the ,ever mysterious, beast on campus. In turn I brushed it off, thinking it was just the paranoia from the events that transpired last year. That is until he heard it again. 

‘Mattheo’ the voice repeated, seemingly getting louder. 

‘What the fuck’  I voiced to myself. This voice that was calling out to me, it felt so familiar, like something I’d only ever heard in my dreams. Though it also felt like something to avoid, like its presents was something to be feared. But I couldn’t ignore it. So I sat there for a little longer, waiting for it to speak again. 

‘Come here boy’ it spoke once more.

Now engulfed with curiosity I shot up, a bit more dramatic and attention attracting then I had intended, though my ability to care was truly out the window at the moment. So with the voice still calling to me I followed. Exciting the great hall, all I could feel was the eyes of my mates and just about everyone else in the great hall tracing my every step. Nonetheless I made a full exit and continued the path being spoken to me by the eerie voice in my head?, in the walls? I’m not sure but I suppose I’ll find out soon. After what felt like hours, what was really only 30 minutes, of mindlessly following this mysterious voice I was done. Everytime I thought I had found the source of the voice, everytime I felt as though I could feel it fan the shell of my ear, it stopped. Then once it spoke again it was further away. At this point I was fully and utterly done. This wasn’t me giving up no, I was gonna find out who or what was calling to me. But for now I needed a break. I knew dinner was going to end soon so I decided to go somewhere that wouldn’t end up crowded with numerous children and teens. Somewhere I truly found peace and tranquility. The astronomy tower. 

—--At the astronomy tower—--

Mattheo sat on the cold floor, back pressed up against a railing and a cigarette lit between his fingers. The boy truthfully wasn’t the biggest fan of smoking, the taste and feeling it left in his lungs wasn’t one he enjoyed. Yet the stress and fear that surrounded the young slytherin last year and continued to follow him left him in dire need of some sort of vise. Having expressed this to his best mate, and the boy he happened to live with when not at Hogwarts, knew exactly what he needed.  

The two boys huddled around a corner waiting for Mr. Nott to head out for the night, leaving his study unsupervised. 

“Are you sure this is the best idea mate?” the younger boy spoke, his tone full of worry and hesitance. Mattheo wasn’t really scared of much but Mr. Nott was not one for being too kind to anyone. He was a cruel unsavory man and the curly headed boy preferred to interact with him and his fury as little as possible. 

Now the friend in question simply let out a quiet scoff, keeping his eyes fixed on the door to the study he spoke in response, “trust me mate the second he leaves we’ll pop then pop out in a second”. He looked down a little meeting mattheo gaze, patting his shoulder lightly he sent the boy a resuring yet mischievous smile. “No one will be none the wiser, I promise”. 

And with that Mr. Nott finally left his study, making sure to lock the door behind him, then heading out of the Nott mansion without speaking a word. Once they heard the man's car speed out of the driveway the boys sprung into action. Mattheo and Theodore approached the study door, the older boy stood there for a second not quite sure how to unlock the door - he truly had no plan. Though lucky, one boy did pay attention in last year's class and had an idea. With one wave of the younger boy's wand, and the mutter of an incantation, the door unlocked and opened itself. The nott boy muttered ‘brilliant’ under his breath. He then stepped into his fathers study heading straight for the drawer he knew held what the boys sought. Theo opened the drawer grabbing the package and without a word he pulled his friend out the study, locking it behind him, then ran up into his room. 

While Mattheo was recounting the events that led to his new found addiction he heard creaking. At first he thought it was just the wind or simply noises an ancient castle would make, but as they got louder and closer he knew it was neither of those. The dark eyed boy looked toward the stairs, his eyes landed on a mess of long dark curls. ‘Bea’, of course who else would be up here this late. 

As the girl made her way fully up the stairs she walked over to where Mattheo had sat himself then took a seat on the railing the boy was sitting up against. Her legs swung a little, draped with the dark gray school skirt and a pair of dark stockings. Bea looked down at the boy below her, watching as he took a drag of his cigarette then released the smoke into the chilly night air. The curly headed boy felt her eyes on him, but he didn’t look up, he never did. 

The pair had been coming to the astronomy tower since the second term. They didn’t come here together on purpose. No, Mattheo came up here first to escape the ruckus of his mates and to draw, a hobby they often teased him about. Then Bea started coming up, to escape the ruckus of their mutual friends and the rest of the Slytherins, but she also felt peace and a sense of comfort from the quiet and stillness of the night. All the animals that came out at night, the noises that were revealed from the quiet and the twinkling stars that only dared to expose their beauty when it was dark and only a few were around to see. It truly was more magical and enchanting than anything Bea had seen or done before. With that the two Slytherins continued to come to the astronomy tower together, they never spoke or really acknowledged each other's presence, yet it was never awkward. They found peace in each other's presence without ever having spoken a word. 

Bea wanted to break that though, she wanted to speak to the boy, craved it. So she did. “I’ve never seen you smoke before”, the usually silent girl spoke, her voice soft, though it was clear to Mattheo that she wanted some sort of explanation for his new found “habit”. 

So the boy put his cigarette out -it had reached the end of its life anyways- he looked up at the girl who he slowly came to recognize as a friend. The pair locked eyes, Bea quirked her eyebrow signaling her anticipation for the boy, who sat below her, to speak. 

Mattheo held silent eye contact with Holloway for another second, “I started over the holiday, honestly Theo’s doing”, he spoke, voice low and his eyes on the ground as he found it a little difficult to speak while looking at the girl. Bea took his breath away one could say, though the riddle boy simply chalked it up to his nerves and inability to talk to people about anything regarding his home life. 

“I suppose Nott isn't the best influence then”, she let out an airy laugh, though her voice remained soft and sweet. 

The boy's onyx eyes returned once more to the girl above him. He caught the way her eyes wrinkled up a bit on the sides, the way her lips cracked into a small smirk as she laughed, and how she took one sleeve covered hand off the railing to try and cover her slight smile. Like it was some sort of secret, one she did not want revealed to anyone. 

—--Time skip—--

After about half an hour or so of the two young Slytherins discussing how Mattheo came to his new habit and other mundane things, the pair decided it was about time to head back to their dorms. Neither of them really wanted to, enjoying the many conversations and the overall comfort they found in the other's presence. Nonetheless it was late and admittedly they both were quite tired. As they were on their way back to the slytherin dorms Bea caught a glimpse of something in one the halls, something that caused her to stop in her tracks. She backed up slowly, turning away from the confused boy next to her and made her way down said hall. Holloway stopped after a few steps into said hall, Mattheo following swiftly after her. The pair stopped in front of a horrid sight. Filch’s cat, Mrs. Norris, dead? Frozen? Either way the cat along with a message, ‘the chamber of secrets has been opened’, safe to say the whole of it made both their stomachs drop. 

“Is that blo-” the Riddle boy spoke before he was interrupted by his curly headed friend.

“What is the chamber of secrets?”, she enquired, the question itself wasn't intended to be answered and wouldn't be either for someone decided to interrupt the pair. Though they did not realize as they were to absorbed in the image in front of them to hear the creaking of the floor or the annoyed grumbling of the approaching person. 

The figure stopped as soon as it saw the pair, “ and what are you two doing up out of bed at this hour”, the low-pitched voice spoke. Their monotone and sorta of elongated way of speaking made it very evident on who the speaker was. The two young slytherin turned toward the speaker slowly and with hesitation, knowing this would 100% qualify a detention and a loss of house points. Now Mattheo was a rather argumentative boy and refused to lose house points over this so he attempted to speak up, defend their actions but he was interrupted by another -again. 

“Ah there you two are!”, another voice spoke, seemingly appearing behind the Slytherins out of nowhere. Now this voice Bea also knew, very well, having been scolded and comforted by it for many many years. “ I’ve been looking for you guys”, the feather soft voice spoke once more, ending her sentence by looking at the other mystery figure. 

“Honey Holloway”, the other person spoke each syllable of her name out. “What could you be doing with two Slytherins?” They questioned the teen girl behind the kids. 

“Well Professor Snape”, Honey spoke, putting on her compiling charm and sweetness -I mean her name is literally Honey- “These two were helping me with somethings for herbology” 

“Yep that's right”, the two kids nodded their heads in agreement. 

Professor Snape did not try to argue as he was far too tired and Honey Holloway had always proven herself to be a rather trustworthy teen so with that the two Slytherins and Honey were on their way leaving behind a rather unconvinced Professor. 

éé

—--The next day in transfiguration—--

Bea sat in transfiguration class next to her housemates and friends, Enzo and Draco, lost in a thought on what the hell the “chamber of secrets is” and how Mrs. Norris got petrified. The girl wanted answers, I mean this is not a normal occurrence even in the wizarding world this whole thing was just weird. She continued to sit there picking at her nails -a nervous habit- and lost in the void of her thoughts not paying much attention to what was happening around her. That is until a voice broke her thought. 

Whispering to her and Malfoy, Enzo spoke, “So I heard you and Riddle came back late last night, together”, saying ‘together’ in a sultry tone. 

Holloway let out a small huff, “it’s not like that Berkshire”, voice firm, “also we are 13”, she concluded rolling her eyes at the hushed chuckles the two boys shared. 

“Ok so if you and Théo weren’t snogging, then what were you doing?” 

The girl's eyes widened with shock at her friend's explicit words, ‘snogging really?’ 

“Well if you must-” Bea cut herself off right there, not paying any mind to the two slytherin boys who were trying to grab her attention but instead to the conversation a certain genius witch had just sparked with the professor. She asked about the chamber of secrets, the same question the young curly headed girl had herself. 

Professor Mcgonegell looked hesitant to tell her class of young minds the secrets that lay within the walls of Hogwarts but after a minute of thinking she had made up her mind. “Well Ms Granger” she began, her stern tone wavering ever so slightly most would not notice but Bea did and it seems so did Hermione. “As we all know Hogwarts was founded by four mighty witches and wizards -Godrick Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin”. 

Professor Mcgonagall Talked for a little while longer, explaining how Salazar Slytherin was a despicable man who wanted to purge Hogwarts of all mud-bloods. The other houses disagreed and fought him on this matter but under their noses he created a chamber one that held a petrifying beast -a basilisk. This basilisk was meant to kill mud-bloods, to rid the school of them. But as far as everyone is concerned this ‘chamber of secrets’ is purely the thing of fiction. 

This conversation put the girl once again into deep thought but this time she knew exactly what to do.

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to a tag list!!

@stars4birdie @camiesully

[jamilelucato]

ok but if you do a fred weasleyx plus size!slytherin!reader, i would love you foreverr. and like, if it could be a soft enemies to lovers (something like she "heard" him calling her fat or whatever) and she now is a baddy... you know what, i just described myself here lol but thank you! and congrats!

Sorry [F.W.]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Plus size!Slytherin!reader

Summary: Fred and you used to be best friends until he broke your heart.

Warning: cursing; body insecurities

A/N: I loved this request so so much! The fact that it’s a plus-size reader that is not in Hufflepuff is the best part for me, because, besides the fact that it’s already hard to find plus size reader to hp fanfics, they are always Hufflepuff. So hope you guys like it! (my gif!)

Last chance to send a request! || Harry Potter Masterlist 

Usually, Fred would avoid all the female acts happening around him, but today, he couldn’t just pass by. He was coming from Herbology when he heard the familiar voice from a girl Fred rather much ignore and he was doing just that when he heard a second voice follow.

“Give it back, y/L/N,” said the voice he recognized from Alicia Spinnet.

“Oh, come on, Alicia; just let me finish, okay?” Fred could visualize the smirk coming from y/L/N’s lips. “...‘dare I say it was one of the best dates I’ve gone to this year. Hogwarts men used to be better’. Oh, poor Alicia, huh? No boy enough fancying?”

“That’s enough, y/L/N. Give it here,” Alicia tried again, unsuccessful.

“Can’t stop now, Alicia, just so close to ending... Let me see, where was I? Oh, ‘maybe I should give Fred a second chance’. Such a sweetie, aren’t you, Alicia?” the mean girl’s voice failed slightly towards the end of the reading, but she managed to recompose.

That was enough for Fred to hear.

He turned around, getting back to the corridor that headed to Gryffindor’s entrance.

Just as he pictured in his mind, y/N y/L/N and her gang had cornered Alicia Spinnet, who could only watch while the girls read Alicia’s diary — one of y/N’s goons held the poor Gryffindor’s wand.

“Stop it, y/L/N. Give her wand and her diary back to Alicia, okay?” Fred ordered, making himself seen and heard.

The Slytherin girl’s eyes went from the diary in hands to the ginger boy involuntarily, and you struggled to hold the smirk. 

“What makes you think I’ll obey you, Weasley?” replied y/N, working very hard to make Fred’s last name sound ridiculous in your accent.

“Just do it, y/L/N, I don’t have time for your childish acts.”

Fred was rolling his eyes when your laugh stopped him. She used to have a beautiful laugh, Fred thought to himself, remembering a time before Hogwarts. Well, it’s not only her laughs that have gone to waste...

“Fred Weasley, the king of stupid pranks, calling me a child? Really?” this time, all your goons followed laughing. “Anyway, here goes, Alicia,” you tossed Alicia her diary with no consideration, what so ever. “I’ve read everything. Keep me updated, will you?” you chuckled.

“My wand,” Alicia reminded, stepping towards the Slytherin next to you, who held her wand. The taller girl exchanged looks with y/N, who just shrugged in response, so the goon ended up giving Alicia her wand back.

Fred held Alicia back by her arm, trying not to grab it too hard. Alicia stopped and looked up, blushing right away. Fred decided it was best not to mention he had heard the diary reading — mainly because it was about their date last Saturday — and he just asked if she was okay. Alicia nodded and walked away.

“When are you gonna stop?” Fred asked y/N once Alicia was gone, and y/N’s two goons had stepped away, enough for them not to hear Fred.

“Fred, take care of yourself, okay? Let me be me,” you said, sighing angrily and avoiding his eyes.

The ginger boy watched as you walked away with heavy steps as if every step away from Fred required you to fight a battle with yourself.

“I would,” he answered, in a whisper, feeling defeated. “But that’s not you.”

***

Fred Weasley was accustomed to your little fights all over the castle, picking, generally, Gryffindor girls and especially the ones most people would consider “the prettiest”.

Not many people overlooked your acts — they always thought you were like this because life was probably hard at a chubby girl, principally one from the high society. Your two best friends, or how Fred liked to call them, your goons, knew all about how your mom was a monster with you because of your weight.

Fred used to know everything about you and your mom in a not so distant past.

You lived near the Weasleys, and, being just nine months younger than the twins made you three grow up close. They were your best friends until they had to leave and go to Hogwarts.

You waited patiently for your time to go to the school and finally be with the twins all the time again, but they completely ignored you once in Hogwarts.

You tried your hard to be around, but they pretended they couldn’t hear you calling in the corridors. They got up from the tables and left when they saw you approaching. And then, one day, probably tired of your stupids attempts, Fred shouted at you in front of the whole Gryffindor table:

“Leave me alone, fatty!”

Those words echoed in your mind for days and days. Sometimes, even now, barely six years later, you still could hear Fred calling you fatty. And it hurt extra hard because it was your best friend, and it was Fred, the one you secretly fancied since 10.

You never tried approaching Fred — or George, for that matter — ever again. You started over in Slytherin, looking for new friends. You had to wait for your second-year when Sabrina and Jennifer got to Hogwarts, and they accepted being your friend right away. 

They never bothered with your weight, and they hexed everybody that ever dared to say something about it. 

Sometimes, you could see the old Fred and George in Sabrina and Jennifer. Sure, if they were shorter, female and blond.

Just being a Slytherin and hexing the ones who spoke ill of you and your friends didn’t make you the bitter girl you became — it was, again, Fred’s fault.

It began with laughing at the pretty girls around the school, preferably the ones Fred would smirk to in the corridors between classes. Then, when Fred started to snog around, you began torment these girls.

It was fun at first, but now, when you had just messed with Alicia Spinnet for going on a date with Fred, you weren’t as happy as you’d have been one year ago.

“Told you it was not a good idea,” said Sabrina when you sat down in the couch in the Slytherin common room, next to her. “Those girls are innocent.”

“And what? I’m not?” 

“You are, but not when you mess with them!” pointed out Jennifer. She’s the one with the shorter temper from all of you. “I mean, it was fun while doing it, but now, we’re just baddies bored.”

There was a minute of silence before you spoke again.

“What was I supposed to do? Just be quiet and watch Alicia fall for Fred?” you sighed. “At least now she won’t have the guts.”

“That’s just pure evil,” said Sabrina. You rolled your eyes, nudging her jokingly.

“You should ask him out,” said Jennifer and not only you, but Sabrina also stopped breathing and stared at Jen. “What? We three know that’s the only permanent fix.”

“As if he would say yes,” you frowned and chuckled, but that just hurt your feelings a bit more.

“He could,” pondered Sabrina, backing Jen up.

“Do I have to remind you what he called me?” you instantly got up from the couch and stared down at your best friends.

“We remember. But Fred was only twelve, y/N,” pointed out Sabrina, always seeing the good in everyone.

“And you were kinda annoying,” added Jen.

You showed Jen your tongue before leaving them in the common room. Your brain was working hard with opposite thoughts — a part of you wanted to go and confess to Fred and apologize for mistreating all the girls he ever liked. But you knew that you were too proud to do that, and it wasn’t like he was going to magically welcome you with a kiss, either.

It had been a long time since you two were best friends. Sabrina was right — Fred changed; you changed. No longer are helpless children, who fled at dawn to find themselves in the lake hidden in the forest near their homes.

You both grew up, and whether you wanted to or not, you moved on.

You learned to confront your mother — even if she still drives you crazy, prescribing crazy diets that she heard about in the Muggle world. Fred achieved his personal brilliance — he no longer lived in the shadows of his older brothers, much less wanted to imitate them, as he used to say.

What your best friends didn’t know; what really scared you was that maybe you didn’t love Fred anymore.

Something, in the depths of his soul, said that the silly redhead, who did everything to stop you from crying and that used to give you his own sweets, even when he really wanted them, was still there. But when you bumped into the halls, and your eyes met, Fred looked more and more unrecognizable.

***

“So... Alicia wonders if you’re gonna ask her out again,” George informed his twin as soon as he sat down at the Gryffindor table.

“Huh?” Fred mumbles, noticing he had been zoning out.

George moves around in his seat, trying to copy the path Fred’s eyes made to his twin.

“I think the answer is never,” George says calmly, chuckling with himself. 

“What’re you talking about?” Fred demands, a bit too harsh than he should’ve been.

“Alicia wanted a second date with you, it appears. But you don’t,” George finally explains, getting a piece of bread from the board in front of him. “You don’t do second dates; should’ve just told her.”

“You know me,” Fred sighed, not really wanting to keep the conversation going.

“When are you going to talk to her?” George asks, without raising his eyes from his food.

Fred turned to his twin, confused. But his performance doesn’t last — Fred knows it’s pointless to hide something from George. Many times, George understand what’s happening with Fred before himself realizes.

“I don’t know what to say,” Fred babbled, frustrated with himself for being so stupid and letting things get this bad.

The two Weasley are staring across the Hall, looking at y/N as she eats her lunch, unaware of the boys staring at her. And that isn’t a first — you are always unaware of boys gazing at you.

“I don’t think there’s something in need to be said other than an apology. From both parts,” said George, raising just one brow. “I think you two just need each other; to be at the presence of one another.”

“As if I can just stumble on her and stay there,” Fred rolls his eyes.

“You could try,” George shrugged.

Fred stared at his twin was last time, knowing would be pointless to say something else.

***

“Here comes the fatty,” laughed out loud Blaise. 

Involuntarily, you cringed. It was as if every year learning to deal with bullies had disappeared; it was like you were ten again and running scared of the bad boys.

Blaise Zabini had something against you, or so it seemed. It wasn’t the first time he had offended you, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. And it hurt more when the offence came from him because he was a handsome boy. It always hurts the most when it comes from pretty boys.

“Can’t skip a meal for your own good, can you?” he laughed again, nudging you with his shoulder while passing through you to get to the Slytherin table for the last feast of the day.

“Shut it, Blaise,” a voice came from behind you — strong, powerful, commanding.

You slowly turned around, ducking even more when you notice who was the owner of the voice. Not that you had any doubts before turning — you could recognize Fred’s voice miles away.

“What did you say to me, Weasley?” Blaise turned too, with an angry look. Two friends of his came closer.

“I said for you to keep you fucking mouth shut,” shouted Fred, clearly losing his temper.

You stared at the red-haired boy like he was your saviour. You didn’t need it, but sure as hell was nice to know you had one.

Blaise came forward, but Fred got to his face first, punching it right in the middle. Blaise cried, running his hands thought the bloody mess his face was now.

Blaise’s friends rushed towards Fred, but behind him, Lee Jordan and George fetched their wands and pointed towards the boys, who stepped back for a second.

Fred was rushing to punch Blaise again, but the boys kinda stopped him, while he fought them, wandless. 

You were lost in the chaos, the whole school watching and no teacher seemed to be around to stop it. When you got your functions back, you ran towards Fred, to stop his nonsense, but you weren’t fast enough, and when you pulled him away, the taller of Blaise’s friends had already punched Fred in the eye.

“Stop it now, all of you!” you shouted, and George immediately stepped in front of you, pointing his wand at the boys while you and Fred walked out of the Great Hall’s entrance. Blaise ran out of there too, but he used the other corridor.

Pushing doors until you found one that opened, you shoved Fred inside.

“Sit down, I can’t take a look at your eye like this,” you complained, and without looking at you, he pulled a chair and sat down.

You stepped closer, raising your hand towards his face. He didn’t take his hand off his eye, so you, gently, with your hand, pushed his away.

“Oh, Freddie,” you let it slip, slowly rubbing your thumb over his purple eyelid. At least, he wasn’t bleeding. “Episky,” you whispered, pointing your wand towards his blackeye.

Magic was good because of things like that — his eye was immediately better. Probably not perfect, it would need a small amount of time for the colour to go back to its completely normal. It was no longer purple, but a soft tone of pink.

It didn’t seem like long, although it also didn’t seem like time was passing, you and Fred stared at each other eyes, expecting something apparently, something that never came. An apology? A thank you?

“You shouldn’t have done that to Blaise,” you finally said, sighing before letting the words out. Since you were still standing up, you placed your hands on your knees, an attempt of being on eye-line with Fred.

“He deserved worst,” Fred argued.

“Well, yes,” you shrugged. “But you had nothing to do with it.”

“What is that suppose to mean?” Fred asked, raising his tone.

“It’s supposed to mean that you have nothing to do with my business, Fred,” you sighed, suddenly surprised to be the calm one.

“Really?” he raised a brow, trying to find a better spot in the chair. You were about to roll your eyes when he continued. “Because it seems we’re always messing with each other’s business.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” you used his own words against him.

“I think you know,” he said, regretting immediately for having used such a harsh tone. He breathed, stretching his back. “Our paths always cross, even when you try to avoid me.”

“Avoid you?” you asked. “Avoid you?” you raised your tone. “I’m not the one who pushed you away! I’m not the one who decided to ignore you in the corridors when you were completely new in the school — when you knew nobody!” you took your hands out of your knees and stepped back, turning your face away because you knew tears could appear at any moment. “I’m not the one who called my supposedly best friend a fatty!”

You couldn’t see Fred’s face since you were gazing away, bu you heard his gasp and then dozen of attempts to say something, but he apparently couldn’t organize his words.

He couldn’t find an excuse.

“y/N, look, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can say to fix that, I know. I was a jerk,” Fred said, calling your attention back to him. “I deserve everything you wanna call me because I was fucking stupid. A bloody fool and worse. I was just so naive, trying to impress the Gryffindor table by saying trash to a Slytherin. And then I avoided you and made George avoid you too. You didn’t deserve it — You don’t deserve it.”

You looked back at him, his eyes sparkling with what you thought was the beginning of tears.

“I really don’t deserve it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “So, thank you for... the eye. I’ll be out of your way.”

“Wait,” you stopped him before he even had a chance to get up.

“What?” he looked up, staring deep into your eyes.

You cringed, suddenly unsure of what to say. Why did you interrupt Fred? Why hadn’t you let the idiot out of the room, out of your life?

Why did you always go back to him?

“I don’t want for you to get out of my way,” you said, your voice was practically a whisper, he might not even have heard it.

But it was Fred, and he had been waiting for that for so long.

“We were best friends, Fred,” you groaned, leaning your back lower.

“We were never best friends,” Fred let out, squeezing his eyes tight, biting his lower lip in a way that caught your eye. “You can’t be friends with someone you’re in love with,” he said as if it explained everything.

Your heart skipped a beat — you thought he never knew you fancied him.

“You knew,” you commented, running your fingers through your scalp.

“I knew? That I love you? Well, it took me a while to figure it out, but it was easier when I saw how George thought about you was a bit different than how I thought about you and things just... clicked,” he gave you a full explanation of something you did not ask, but, God, were you happy to hear. “So, I’m sorry, I can’t pretend I’m your friend. It’d be too painful at this point.”

“Freddie?” you called his name while placing your hands in his jaw. “I don’t wanna be your friend either,” you whispered, your face so close to his and then, when you smirked, he gasped.

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” you chuckled before he pulled your face closer, gently. Then he locked your mouths together in the softest of the kisses.

But softness and the gentleness didn’t last long. It was hard having to bend down to reach his lips, and Fred noticed your struggle. He fastly pulled you down, by moving a hand to your waist and pulling it towards his lap.

You gulped in the middle of the kiss, scared, for a second, it would be too heavy for him or even for the chair. But neither complained. It seemed you were weightless to Fred, who couldn’t care less your whole body was supported by his. Actually, he seemed to care, but in a way much more pleasurable.

The kiss turned to a much hot make-out session, with hands wandering both bodies, and some soft giggled every time you two gasped for air. You were both desperate — both have been dreaming of this for too long.

“You are perfect,” Fred whispered in your ear before biting it.

You had to bit your own lip to hold a groan in. 

“Beautiful, talented, amazing...” he lost himself in his words when you leaned for his neck. Guess I found his weak spot, you smiled to yourself. “Definitely not a witch — you’re a goddess.”

“Keep complementing, and we’ll never leave this room,” you smiled before biting his lip this time.

“That’s the plan,” he smirked. “Should’ve punched a jerk before if I knew I would get this thank you.”

You leaned away just for a second, so you could see his eyes and they sparkled just for you.

“Don’t worry,” you said, “I can find you other jerks to punch around.”

[fandomlit]

gif cred belongs to @iliketanjoubi

requested by anon “Harrry Potter with Prompt #38? 💛” + “hi! can i request a plus size!reader x harry potter, where he takes them to the burrow to introduce to the weasleys as his girlfriend but molly and ginny are rude to her? it’d probably work best if they were a slytherin as well, since molly is plus size. Idk i just thought of this randomly lol feel free to add to it or do whatever you like with it! have a wonderful day/night!!”

o hey i do writing prompts,, feel free to request before they’re discontinued

imagine being plus sized and dating harry potter

you frowned at your body in the mirror, pressing your hand against the skin that rolled over your sleep shorts. closing your eyes tightly, you adjusted them to cover the roll of fat, sighing after thinking again of the cruel words thrown at you that day.

when you opened your eyes again, harry was in the room. you gazed at him through the mirror as he closed the door behind him. “are you alright?”

for some reason, that tipped you over. you turned and shook your head at your boyfriend, your throat constricting as tears finally clouded your vision. he immediately pulled you into his comforting embrace, allowing you to cry into his chest.

“they’re-they’re just so mean!” you wept.

“i know,” he spoke into your hair, rubbing a comforting circle into your back with one hand and holding your head to his chest with the other.

“i don’t understand,” you cried, your voice rasped from your sobs. “molly hates me because i’m slytherin, but ginny-!” another sob wracked through your body. “i-i don’t get it!”

“ginny’s just being petty,” harry sighed into your hair, pressing a kiss atop your head as he spoke. “she just doesn’t like you because she’s had this weird crush on me since before i met her.” you sniffled. “but that doesn’t excuse her actions in the least.”

“i hate the way i look,” you whispered into his chest, though you only half meant it. harry had a way of making you feel beautiful whenever you were around him. today had just been beyond difficult.

“don’t say that,” harry hummed sadly. “you’re beautiful, and ginny’s just being horrid because she’s completely jealous of the way you look and that my attention is all yours.” you nodded gently into his chest. “i wouldn’t change anything about you.”

[moonstruckme]

Remus Lupin Drabbles (1/2)

page 2

☁︎ = headcanon ✩ = 18+, mdni ♡ = mae's favs

You make Remus a chocolate cake during a full moon ☁︎

He coaxes you into going to the hospital ☁︎

Remus with a reader who just needs to come out of her shell ☁︎

Remus x faux extrovert!reader ☁︎

Remus when you get dizzy spells ☁︎

Remus x flirty!reader ☁︎

Remus x cat animagus!reader ☁︎

Remus is the perfect fitting room boyfriend ☁︎

Remus is jealous ☁︎

You and Remus on Halloween ☁︎

Remus x Scamander!reader after a full moon

You teach Remus some French

Remus joins you outside in the rain ♡

Comforting aftercare with Remus ♡

Remus helps you with a tummy ache

Your Slytherin pals find out Remus is your boyfriend

You use Halloween to tell Remus you know his secret

Remus gets possessive before the full moon

Remus makes sure you get some much-needed sleep

You admit you want to kiss Remus (he's more than okay with that)

Remus x hearing impaired!reader when your aids are being fixed

Remus reassures you about your compulsive overchecking

Doctor!Remus when you're sick ♡ | cont.

Your boyfriend doctor!Remus heals your grave injury (small cut)

Doctor!Remus can tell when you're trying to power through

Apocalypse!Remus and you are lost in the woods

Apocalypse!Remus and you are attacked

He gets you flowers

You steal shy!Remus from his friends

Remus thinks you deserve better company

Doctor!Remus helps you with a panic attack

Doctor!Remus discovers you at his work

Roommate!Remus comforts you after a nightmare

You and shy!Remus give each other flowers ♡

Doctor!Remus helps with your fear of needles

Your boyfriend doctor!Remus goes soft when you're hurt ♡

Remus gives you a scalp massage

Remus gives you a beginner's guide to scar care

Your boyfriend doctor!Remus rubs your stomach

Remus really, really likes you (you're oblivious) ♡

Remus wants you with him always

Remus won't let you call yourself ugly

Remus is your first kiss ♡

Remus defends whimsical!reader from taunting ♡

Remus apologizes for snapping at you

Shy!Remus gets set up with whimsical!reader

You're loopy after surgery, and Remus is smitten

Remus comforts you after you do poorly on an assignment

Doctor!Remus comforts you when you're afraid of hospitals

Remus thinks your glasses are adorable

Remus is absolutely besotted with you (plus size!reader) ♡

Remus puts your hair up ♡

Remus comforts you when you're overthinking

You have a migraine, but your boyfriend is a doctor

You and Remus have a bookstore date

Whimsical!reader's first snow day after moving in with Remus ♡

Doctor!Remus when your medicine makes you feel gross

Remus is rude to you, and apologizes profusely

Remus helps when you go nonverbal

Remus and american!reader disagree about tea

Remus reassures you when you're insecure about your stutter

Doctor!Remus helps when your chest hurts

Doctor!Remus comes over when you're sick

You comfort Remus after a nightmare

Self-reliant reader goes subby for soft dom!Remus

Shy!Remus (reluctantly) introduces you to his friends

Remus comforts you when you're insecure about your skin

Doctor!Remus is casually dominant

You're nervous to get blood drawn, and your pretty doctor helps

You have a high fever, and your boyfriend doctor!Remus is lovely ♡

Med student!Remus practices on you

Doctor!Remus humors whimsical!reader's alternative health practices

You and Remus have a sleepy nighttime routine

Whimsical!reader wants to heal doctor!Remus

You're Remus' "fake" wedding date

Remus is your tutor, and you're his unwilling student

Grumpy!Remus x sunshine!reader

You make Remus share his cigarette

Doctor!Remus calms you when you come into A&E

Doctor!Remus dotes on a miserably sick you

You're scared of the future, and Remus comforts you

Doctor!Remus is protective when you hurt yourself

Remus sets you straight when you're being bratty

A doped-up you finds out doctor!Remus is your boyfriend

Remus is your emotional support eye candy doctor

You and your roommate Remus are cut from the same cloth

He's all you need after a long day

Rockstar!Remus kisses you soundly

You get flustered during an appointment with doctor!Remus

Remus sees your scars

Remus takes care of sub!reader feeling clingy after sex ✩

Soft dom!Remus is obliging when you're needy ✩

Remus is obsessed with your small boobs ✩♡

Remus finds out you like to be choked ✩

You help med student!Remus study anatomy ✩

Your doctor boyfriend gives you a breast exam ✩