#side pairing: ginny x pansy

[wordsarelife]

⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 01: dinner and a glass of wine

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: the christmas holidays have just begun, but still a threatening atmosphere lies in the air and suddenly, you find yourself at a crime scene

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, (small) jump-scare

note: hello guys, welcome to the first episode of no body, no crime!! i’m so excited for this series and hope you enjoy it as much as i do!! the next episode is coming out next monday!! let me know what you think in the comments <333

the soft tunes of christmas music filled the air around you. the great hall was less filled than normal, most of the students deciding to go home for the holidays. 

"can you pass me the potatoes, please?" ron's red hair was illuminated by the soft glow of the fairylights behind him. the auburn sweater he was wearing was highlighting the contrast even more. 

"here" hermione said, holding the bowl across the table, as ron eagerly grabbed it. 

"where's ginny?" harry muttered. he had his nose buried in a book about quidditch techniques you had bought in hogsmeade. he had been busy studying it all night, but apparently not busy enough to not notice ginny's absence. 

"she's sitting with luna" you pointed out, as your eyes glided along the slytherin table. ginny and her had grown closer since the beginning of the year and you had to admit that you had quickly taken a liking to the blonde girl. she was a bit strange, admittedly, but lovely none the less. 

"she's been busy all year" ron muttered, mouth filled to the brim. "seems like we've gotten too boring for her"

"allow your sister to have her own friends" hermione shoke her head. "and for gods sake, please close your mouth, ronald."

despite the approaching festivity, the atmosphere in the hall was eerie. maybe because only a few people were sitting at eachs house table, making the hall seem weirdly out of place. 

the slytherin table was by far the emptiest. probably because most purblooded and traditional wizard families made a hail mary out of everything that would allow a party, showing off their wealth and status. 

the only thing that contradicted this assumption was that several children from the most influential pureblood families had chosen to stay. your gaze swept across the table, taking in each one in turn.

draco malfoy, displaying a usual attitude of displeasurement. you guessed that the malfoys weren't the people to listen to christmas music around the holidays. 

next to him, blaise zabini, who was munching on a mouth full portion of potatoes just like ron was. 

across from them and her back facing the rest of the hall, including your line of sight, pansy parkinson. her perfect cut bob of black hair moving slightly everytime she turned her head to the side, as she attentively listened to what draco was telling her. 

a few feet away, mattheo riddle and lorenzo berkshire were quietly discussing something. it looked somewhat urgent, as both of them leaned over the table top, and not even mattheo, whose face you could see, wore his usual smirk. 

just before you were able to wonder about his absence, you noticed theo nott walk into the hall. he looked just like always, messy curls falling onto his forehead, dark circles under his eyes and that face, that made every thought in your head disappear. 

not that you liked any of them, but theo had always been your favorite. he was a true slytherin. cunning, loyal and determined. even though he had reason enough, there was no arrogant bone in his body. 

you had liked him from the first time you had talked to him last year, when snape had coupled you up for a potions project. he had not even been as pretentious as you had thought he was, considering he was always hanging around malfoy. 

but theo was nice, actually nice. 

"hello?" ron's voice was so sudden, you knocked over the cup of pumpkin juice beside you. 

hermione cleaned the juice off of the table with a simple flick of her wand, as she rolled her eyes at your distractedness. 

"what?" you wondered. 

"the cookies, please?" ron smiled and your expression turned sour when you noticed the pieces of potatoe stuck between his teeth. 

you nodded nonetheless and grabbed the plate of decorated christmas cookies. you took one for yourself, a delicious looking christmas tree, before you planted the whole plate in front of ron, knowing that he was gonna take one cookie after the other anyway. 

"i think we're good company" harry said, and while you weren't exactly sure what he was talking about, you nodded. 

"obviously we are" 

"i mean, she could've brought luna along, right?" he closed the quidditch book with a thud and crossed his arms. 

"ehh" you muttered. you were saved by the loud sound of the door, that flew open and revealed professor burbage. she walked up to the teachers table in a hurry, quickly excusing her late arrival, before she sat down next to dumbledore. 

you noticed the look of worry on her face and wondered what she was thinking about. 

“what’s gotten into her?” hermione asked and you were glad someone else had noticed the professor’s strange behaviour.

“everyone is stressed around christmas, right?” ron muttered without an ounce of interest. 

“i’m sure that’s it” harry nodded, glad that he could now shift the conversation back to it’s initial topic. “so, about ginny—“

“you’re mentioning her an awful lot, harry” you joked, enjoying how your brother’s face lost all it’s colour and his eyes darted between ron and you quickly. ron hadn’t even noticed the implication, if he had even listened to you in the first place. 

you could read the boredom from the redheads face as he rearranged the cookie plate, until it showed a little scene with a christmas tree, huge presents and two happy gingerbread men. 

you tuned the conversation out too, as harry continued to speak. you decided that it was hermiones turn to listen now. 

you rather turned your head to look at theo once more, who looked up at the very same time, probably feeling eyes on him. but he didn’t look in your direction, but to the teachers table. you furrowed your brows, before you followed his line of sight, your eyes ultimately landing on professor burbage. she looked just as worried as before, as she hectically looked between theo and something clutched in her hand. 

you looked back to theo, who simply rolled his eyes, averting his gaze from the teacher and focusing back on the untouched food beside him. draco muttered something in theo’s direction and the latter barely reacted, managing only a weak smile, before his focus was gone again. 

you sighed, deciding you had spent enough time with your friends to leave without feeling bad. “i think i’m gonna head to bed” you smiled, standing up.

“oh” hermione simply noted. “should i accompany you?”

you shook your head, “i’ll be fine”. her offer was nice, but you wanted to be alone for some time. it was especially during times like these, that you most missed what other people had: a real family. you still had harry and your friends, but it was different from what you sometimes wished for. 

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow” you waved. ron, mouth filled to the brim, only waved back to your relief and harry nodded, muttering something about a game of chess ginny had promised. 

you headed out of the hall just a mere second later, pulling your sweater over your head, that you had taken off in the hall, because of the brizzling warmth of the fireplace at your back. you took the usual route to the tower. it was the place you often spend time at whenever you wanted to be alone. 

the stairs creaked loudly beneath each step you took, indicating how old the whole structure was. you walked across the wooden beams, leaning your body over the railing as you breathed in the cold of the air and your eyes wandered across the snow beneath you.

it was so calm up here, so silent.. until. the wood creaked loudly, indicating steps coming up towards you. your heart began beating faster, debating who could be coming up here. you had never ran across someone else at the tower.

maybe it was harry? you stepped closer to the stairs, expecting your brothers dark and messy hair to peak from the entrance, but it wasn’t harry who then stepped onto the plattform across from you.

“hey” theo nott muttered, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants while he looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“hey” you said, just as neutral. you tried to act casual, as he walked closer and you followed him back to the middle of the plattform, awkwardly standing next to each other. 

theo fished out a cigarette from his pocket. “is this okay?” he asked, pointing between the two of you. 

you furrowed your brows, confused what he was talking about, before you realized that he was probably asking about your permission to keep you company. “sure” you nodded and the lightened his cigarette. 

“you smoke?” he asked, holding the burning cigarette in your direction as if to offer you a blow.

you shoke your head, although you had to admit that it was intruiging to take a drag when a boy with such blue eyes was the one offering it. 

“do you come here often?” you asked softly, deciding it was more awkward to just stare at him in silence. 

“sometimes” theo shrugged. “they get exhausting, my friends i mean”

“yeah, mine too” you nodded. 

“wouldn’t have held you for a person that particuarly likes to be alone” theo muttered, before he turned his head, blowing the smoke out from his lips, without it hitting you. you appreciated the gesture. 

“it gets too much, sometimes” you shrugged. “i don’t mind to be alone”

“then you probably mind my company, huh?” he smirked, looking into your eyes with a deep kind of sincerity.

“not at all” you shook your head, mirroring the smirk on his lips. “although i would prefer malfoy”

“oh shut up” theo laughed, his eyes glistening, almost surprised at the sudden joke. you felt proud that you had made him laugh, even if you had to mention malfoy. 

“i’m so sincere right now” you giggled, both of you not believing a word you were saying. 

theo threw down his cigarette, stomping on it, before he let it disappear with a flick of his wand. he looked up at you and opened his mouth, about to return a witty remark, when a loud bang rang out. 

you both froze at the sound, the laughter abruptly cut off as the echo of the bang bounced off the stone walls. the great hall felt miles away in that moment, and the air thickened with tension. theo’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of concern.

“what was that?” you whispered, instinctively taking a step closer to him. the sudden shift from light-hearted banter to fear sent a shiver down your spine.

“the door” theo muttered in recognition. the tower was right on top of the entryway to the castle. now that you thought about it, the bang did sound awfully like a heavy door falling close. 

“who would even go out there now?” you wondered, your heart still beating fast as the shock settled into your features.

“i don’t know” theo stepped away and closer to the staircase. “are you coming or what?”

you quickly nodded, as you followed him back down and through the corridor, before you froze in front of the door.

“maybe it was the wind” you suggested, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your uncertainty.

theo raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism dancing in his gaze. “you really believe that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed but his expression alert.

“well, it’s possible,” you replied, though you didn’t sound convinced. the notion felt flimsy in the wake of the unsettling noise, and the creeping feeling of dread wasn’t fading.

“possible, sure,” he replied, “but it sounded too loud for the wind. we need to check it out. it could be something... important.”

your heart raced again, this time from a mix of fear and curiosity. “important? like what?” you asked, biting your lip.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, glancing back at the heavy wooden door. “but don’t you think we should at least look? it might be someone in trouble.”

you hesitated, looking back down the corridor where you could see flickers of light from the torches along the walls. “but what if it’s something dangerous?” you countered, feeling a rush of apprehension.

“better to know than to wonder,” he said, his tone serious yet gentle. there was a spark of determination in his eyes, and you found yourself drawn to his confidence. despite the risk, the thought of turning back felt more frightening than facing whatever lay beyond the door.

theo looked back at you once more, before he sighed and nodded, pushing the heavy door open. what revealed itself was the dark of the night, as snow fell into the entrance you were standing in, quickly cooling your face. 

“it’s too dark” theo noted. both of you took out your wands, using lumos to light the way. theo urged you to follow him. the snowfall was so heavy, that even the light of your wands did almost nothing. 

theo was just a few steps beside you, when you felt it. “theo” you whispered, as your body and heart froze simultaneously. “theo” you repeated, a bit louder. you could see the light of theo’s wand come closer again. he had heard you. 

“are you alright?” 

you shook your head, what he probably couldn’t see. you could only make out his body. “there is something there” 

“what do you mean?” 

“i’m feeling it against my foot” you muttered. “there is something on the ground. i’ll have to come closer to make out what it is” 

“be careful” theo held you hand to stabilize your body, as you kneeled down, moving the light of your wand across the object on the ground in front of you. it was dark, black robes, hiding something beneath them. but you just couldn’t make out what it was. 

then suddenly, you gasped in shock. your light glided over a face, mouth, nose dripping blood. wide eyes, opened in terror as they stared at you unmoving. you screamed, falling back into the snow, as theo surged forward, trying to catch you. 

“y/n!” he called, panic rising in his voice as you struggled to breathe, your heart racing wildly “what’s wrong? what is it?”

“professor burbage” you muttered, over and over again. 

“what?” theo leaned in closer, still holding onto you, his face drained of color.

“she’s dead!” you choked out, voice trembling, eyes fixed on the professor’s face, still staring up at you, frozen in her final moment of horror.

you heard theo gasp, his own breath faltering for a moment as he processed what lay before you both. without another word, he pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around you to support your shaking body. “we have to go,” he muttered, his voice tight with fear. with one hand, he held his wand forward, the dim light flickering in the swirling snow, while the other held onto you as you stumbled back toward the door.

the last thing you saw as the heavy door closed behind you was professor burbage’s body, half-buried in the snow, her lifeless eyes still staring, as if warning you of something far worse to come.

taglist: @melsunshine @shereadsandcries @ch3rry-lips @the-sylver-dragon @mayamonroem @allurearia @prongsprincessworld @brokenpoetliz @winterbarnesblog @mysummerwinesblog @cowboy-luvr @ahead-fullofdreams @mietlynn @maxsisly @too-efn-old-to-be-here @reverse-soe @insideoutjulie @thestrawberrythatgotaway @dvartesgfs @chimchoom @eggsysstuff @uku-lelevillain @lexi2005

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter two

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slight mind manipulation?

series masterlist; previous part; next part

At some point during the feast, you managed to sneak your way onto the Gryffindor table, sliding into the seat beside Ginny, who was sat with Dean Thomas to her other side, who shifted uncomfortably everytime Ron glared at the hand that was grazing his sister's.

"Nice face, Harold." you say sarcastically. "Who healed the break? It looks rushed."

"Thanks Meadow." he snarks before deflating further in his seat as your eyes tracked him for more injuries. "Tonks walked me from the train."

You hummed in acknowledgment before you went over the unhealed scabs and dried patches of blood with wordless spells which always left your friends marvelling at your skill.

"There. Now your face is pretty as ever." you say smirking, patting Harry's cheek which he swats away. "Can't have the 'Chosen One' at his worst now, can we?"

"Piss off." he grumbled but it was only banter between two friends.

"How are you, really, Harry? Where'd you disappear to on the train." you wanted to hear him say it, even if you did trust Theo's word.

"I was right about Malfoy-" he starts before you interrupt him.

"So I've heard. You've taken up stalking as a hobby now, Potter? That's low." you chuckle, which turns into a full on laugh as he glares at you, annoyed.

"He's a Death Eater." he lowers his voice, but his admission sucks the happiness right out of the air. "He was talking about some task that Voldemort has for him."

He pauses as if his mind is trying to catch up with the words tumbling from his mouth, before he looks directly at you, as if he's staring through you.

"You've seen Nott today right? And Parkinson?" you nodded. "What did they talk about? Did Nott talk about his father being caught at the Ministry? Or did-"

You raised a singular brow at your friend as if to say 'are you finished?'.

"Yes I saw them today, in the Prefects' carriage. We just caught up with small talk and some gossip about some Hufflepuff couple. Nothing more." the lie was quickly thought out and also not too far fetched – Pansy had mentioned something about a new couple in passing before you'd parted ways on the train.

"Nothing about tasks or creepy shops?" Ron asked as he shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. You watched him, discust painting your features.

"Nothing about tasks, and certainly nothing about creepy shops. Please chew with your mouth closed, Ronald. Seriously Harry? Stalking?"

He only shrugged at you before turning to his plate of food. He was clearly put out about something and you would bet all your galleons that it had to do with the couple next to you, who were being nauseating, to put it lightly.

You and Hermione giggled as Ron muttered about his sister and her boyfriend showing any ounce of affection in front of him, sharing a glance as Harry continued to glance at them before looking away, visibly annoyed.

When Dumbledore began to stand in front of the House tables, you slipped back into your seat beside Luna; in the corner of your eye you watched as Theo gave you the subtlest of nods.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore announced, smiling broadly, his arms outstretched wide as if he were embracing the whole room. That's when you, and the rest of the Hogwarts student body, noticed that his right hand appeared to have started decaying at a rapid rate.

You made eye contact with Pansy who looked as horrified as everyone else.

What the fuck? She practically screamed into your mind as the sound of people whispering swept through the hall.

Dumbledore merely smiled before he shook the sleeve of his purple and gold cloak over his hand.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you..."

You drowned out the rest of his speech, like you do every year, instead conversing with Pansy in your head.

It looks like his hand has physically died. You say to her. It's got to be dark magic of some sort.

But what business does Dumbledore have messing with that sort of evil? She sounded as nauseated as you felt just thinking about it.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn-" Dumbledore said, prompting the man that you had yet to meet to stand up. "-is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

You swivelled in your seat to find Hermione in the crowds and mouthed 'potions?' to her with confusion written all over your face.

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"But if he's the Potions Professor, then who will be teaching Defence?" Cho spoke from across the table.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Well that answered that question.

"No!" you giggled quietly with Luna as everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Harry, who had shouted so loudly but didn't seem to care, Snape and Dumbledore.

And suddenly Defence is my least favourite subject. Theo spoke, making you choke on your drink as you laugh.

As if oblivious to the uproar his announcement just caused, Dumbledore waited only a few moments before the hall descended into silence once more, before continuing his long winded speech.

"Now as everyone in this Hall is aware," he pointedly looked anywhere but in the direction of the Slytherin table, "Lord Voldemort and his followers once again walk among us and gain strength and numbers everyday."

Suddenly the heads that were staring in Harry's direction turned pointedly to where Mattheo Riddle and his friends were sitting. Instead of shying away from their gazes, like Pansy and Daphne Greengrass and few others did, he continued to stare ahead at Dumbledore, seemingly unbothered by the attention he was garnering.

The silence seemed to strain painfully as Dumbledore spoke. But you seemed to zone out of what he was saying. Something about the castle's protection wards being fortified and strengthened; extra security; stricter curfew at night, etc. You took in none of it, instead focusing on your friends at the Slytherin table, who grew paler by the second. You'd watch out for them this year, especially Theo. None of them deserved to be put into the position they no doubt would all be in, come Christmas time.

Dumbledore's blue twinkling eyes swept over the students once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Your lessons tomorrow.

You wished it was as simple as school work, but you knew it would be anything but.

~∞~

You woke up early the next morning, the anticipation for what the day may bring making your anxiety skyrocket as you got ready to leave for the Great Hall, in which the ceiling sported a brilliantly blue sky, only a few clouds dotting the illusion. You met the Golden trio there, who were busy discussing Harry's theory about Malfoy.

"Well obviously Riddle's already inducted." Ron muttered as you sat down, a speck of blue, in a sea of red. "He is his father's son, after all."

"Still going on your Malfoy-is-a-death eater spiel? The day has hardly begun." you said as you piled scrambled eggs onto a plate, ignoring the pointed look that Professor Mcgonagall gave you as she handed out her House's timetables.

Ron seemed to be getting more agitated by the second as another group of third years on the table beside your's pointed between the four of you and whispered, not so discreetly, about what happened in June.

"It's rude to point." he snapped, sending a glare their way, causing them to turn around, cheeks painted with embarrassment.

"So sixth year looks very bare in comparison to last year, doesn't it." you say, steering Ron's glare from the backs of their heads while you looked over his timetable.

"I love being a sixth year already." Ron said, his mood brightening visibly thanks to your interference. "And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up in the common room and relax."

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione berated as you laughed.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron, "today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, Ronald." you say with a smirk as Professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to the four of you. You'd already gotten your timetable the from Professor Flitwick that morning and found out that you were in the same classes as Hermione. You both finished off your plates and left Harry and Ron in favour of getting to Ancient Runes, where Theo and Riddle were waiting for you.

Reaching the classroom, you spotted Theo immediately and went to snag the seat beside him, but Pansy beat you to it with a playful smirk.

"Come and sit by me, Princess." you glared at your two friends as you turned around to find Riddle with his arm stretched over the back of the spare seat of his desk. "I don't bite."

"Somehow I highly doubt that." you mumbled as you searched for Hermione, who had chosen to sit near the front of the room, the seat beside her already taken. Traitor. She only looked at you apologetically before turning around.

You slumped into the seat, pointedly ignoring him as you took out your things. You could hear Theo and Pansy laughing at your expense so you sent a small stinging jinx wandlessly their way, smirking when they yelped in surprise.

"Smart girl." Riddle mumbled to himself, probably not intending for you to hear, but your cheeks flushed all the same.

"So was Theo lying about your disastrous ability to desipher runes, or was that just a way to get me to agree for your...help?" you ask, still choosing to igore him.

"Oh I assure you I'm quite terrible, Princess. Awful. In fact I'm not sure how I got back into this class, if I'm being entirely honest." he said it with a shrug before he smirked at you again. "I'm sure you can help me. You are top of the class, after all."

"Actually Mione was top of the class at the end of last year. Why not ask her?" you ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. He had turned to look directly at you, but his hand was still on the back of your chair.

You try, and fail, to push it off, sneering at the muscular appendage in offence. Damn him and his strong, quidditch arms.

"Theodore doesn't trust Granger, he trusts you. Therefore, I'm putting my trust into your...abilities to help me out."

Lovely. His words carried a double meaning. You were really considering hexing Theo and Pansy again for putting you in this situation.

His huff of laughter along with the burning pinch at the base of your skull were the only indications that he'd heard your thoughts.

After Defence, wait for me so that we can discuss the nature of your lessons and my apparent tutlage.

You ignored him for the rest of the lesson, but wordlessly agreed, nonetheless.

~∞~

You were complaining to Hermione the whole walk to the Defence classroom, and while she was amused, there was underlying worry in her responses.

"So he wants you to tutor him?" she asks curiously.

"Not a clue why." you say flipantly. "If I was him I'd much rather you taught me."

"Well I am a muggleborn, for starters." she says self-depricatingly and continues speaking, not allowing you to rebute her statement. "And you're still at the top of the class. Christ, you can do most spells non-verbally and wandlessly, far better than I can. I think I'd rather you than me, too. No offence."

You only smiled sarcastically at her. "I don't think anyone would willingly tutor him. Perhaps I should bargain a favour with him instead."

You left out the part where he was already fulfilling a kind of favour, for Theodore and Pansy, no less.

"One class in and my shoulders already ache." you whine as you rolled your shoulder to ease the pain that your heavy bag was causing. Harry and Ron met you outside the classroom a moment later, staring, horrified, at Hermione's armful of heavy books.

"We've gotten so much homework for Runes already." she said anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and we've got to read these by Wednesday!"

"Now I see why we have so many frees this year." you grumble.

"Shame," Ron said with a yawn, before smirking at the two of you.

"Just you wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

The Defence classroom was gloomier than ever, but thankfully it was no longer sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with plates of cat photos. The dark curtains were drawn across the windows and the only light came from the numerous candles that dotted the room, insighting a headache when you tried to read the blackboard. Snape's personality appeared to shine all over the room, from the odd portraits to the weird contraptions that littered the space.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you and I require your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

His dark, beady eyes scanned the room.

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced." he set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a low voice that you desperately wanted to drown out. But the burning sensation at the back of your skill prohibited you from doing just that.

No. Pay attention. Riddle was becoming a thorn in your side, and its only the first day.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster. Each time a neck is severed, it sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Someone read up on their Greek mythology this summer. You say to Theo, who smirks behind his hand.

"Your defences," Snape continued, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse-" he waved a hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony; "-feel the Dementor's Kiss-" a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall; "-or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asked in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."

You really did drown him out this time. Thinking about his wording. To your knowledge, only his followed gave him the name 'the Dark Lord', so why was Snape using that name? You filed away the information as he paced across the classroom.

"....you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, pointledly looking in your direction where your hands stayed glued to your sides, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she stated, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," said Snape dismissively. "But correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry, "lack."

The Professor's beady eyes landed on you once more, a challenge present in them.

"Miss Meadow, come up to the front." everyone's eyes were on you as he beckoned you forward, so you obeyed. "I want you to demonstrate this skill. On me." He motioned for you to stand on one side of the room, while he stayed at the other.

You shook off your limps and, using your wand rather than just doing it wandlessly, you shot out a disarming spell, which Snape blocked.

"Good. Now try again." he said as he shot his own disarming spell at you, which you wordlessly blocked with a flick of your wand.

This back and forth continued for five or so more minutes before Snape managed to catch you off guard and disarm you with a minute flick of his wrist.

"Very good. Now following that example, you will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

People paired off, you choosing to partner with Mione who looked determined to perfect this new skill. Everyone who was part of the DA in the previous year were practically experts at casting spells, but none of them, bar you, could perform the Charms wordlessly. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud, including Ron, which only made you laugh as you watched as Harry blocked his every attack.

Of course, Hermione had gotten the hang of it within ten minutes of practice, as did Theo and Zabini and Riddle. Harry and Ron were still struggling, along with Pansy and Lorenzo.

To say you were bored was an understatement. Snape had already known that you were skilled with wordless and apparently wandless magic too, which meant that he could clearly see into your mind – yet another reason why Riddle needed to teach you control. The only other interesting thing to happen was Harry blatently sassing your Professor, which left you and Hermione gaping and Ron, Dean and Seamus grinning at him.

Once the lesson had ended, Snape in a more abysmal mood than usual after Harry made a fool out of him, you lingered in the corridor, waiting for Riddle to leave so that you could get the interaction over with.

"Hey Meadow! You coming?" Ron asked loudly from the end of the hallway. He looked at you with an odd expression on his face which morphed into unwilling understanding when you felt Theo's presence beside you.

"I'll be there in a bit. I'll meet you in the courtyard." you shout back as you turn towards Theo and his friends.

"Some lesson that was, right tesoro?" Theo asks you as he wraps a strong arm around your shoulder, steering you in the direction of the rest of his group, who were looking between you, Theo and Mattheo with matching expressions on their faces.

"What the hell is she doing here, Nott?" Malfoy asks, looking at you with distain. You glared back at him, about to respond when his familiar deep voice answers instead.

"She's here for me." Riddle says. "Go on ahead. I won't be a moment."

Its Zabini who steers Malfoy away from his glaring contest with you, and Theo who wordlessly wishes you luck with a pat to the top of your head.

"So you're going to teach me control?" you ask as you lean against the nearest wall. He rolls his eyes and wraps a giant hand around your wrist.

"Yes." he hissed. "But not here. How stupid are you? Talking about it out in the open, by a classroom, nonetheless."

Your eyes only widened in mild surprise as he began dragging you down the corridor in the direction that his friends went, but he turned into an empty broom cupboard instead.

"Salazar, if you wanted to get me alone like this there were far better ways of asking Riddle." you say sarcastically, but your eyes show a teasing challenge as you stare up at him.

"Was that an offer, Princess?" he asks with that wicked smirk of his.

"Read the room, Riddle. I'd rather sleep with a troll." you snark.

"Suit yourself." he chuckles before his face sets into that serious look he seems to have mastered in his years at Hogwarts. "The first step to learning full control is learning how to ground yourself."

You look at him expectantly which made him roll is eyes.

"You have to find a happy medium in your head that allows you to keep control of what you don't want people to see, and who you let into your head." he explains motioning to his own head as he speaks.

"So that horrible burning feeling in the back of my skull whenever you get in my head-" you begin.

"Is only there because it lets you know that someone unwanted is using Occlimency on you. The fact that you can't block me out is what we need to work on. Does the same happen with Theodore and Pansy when you communicate with them?"

"No. They're presence is wanted. Yours," you trail your eyes up and down what you can see of his tall frame in the dark, "is not."

"Well until you do accept me in your subconscious, it'll continue to hurt and it'll hurt more when you're trying to block it out." he says and to demonstrate he begins rifling through your thoughts and feelings with little to no effort, that burning sensation appearing like a pinch once again. You cradle you head in your hands, a cry escaping your lips.

Walking to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, anxiety knawing at your insides.

Harry's Malfoy-is-a-death-eater spiel.

Your mini-dual with Snape.

How you want Riddle to rip your clothes right off your body and have him take you-

That wasn't right. You managed to mentally push him right out of your mind with more effort than you reckon it would take for you to haul a quaffle into the goal. It made your head ache.

"What the fuck was that?!" you snap, hitting his arm.

"You're a fast learner. Well done. It takes most people multiple sessions to do what you just did." he looks...proud. It stirs something strange in your gut.

"What did I just do?" you asked, intrigued, scared, confused.

"You just succeeded in blocking me out of your head." he smirked lightly, almost showing a ghost of a smile.

We're going to have lots of fun, Princess.

He was still in your head. His deep voice filling every corner of your mind, but that burning sensation was no longer present. It no longer stung and he was no longer able to rifle through your thoughts. Only converse with you, like you could with Theo and Pansy.

"We'll do this twice a week, until you can block me out without thinking about it." he said as he walked towards the door, leaving you standing motionlessly in the dark.

~∞~

icl the whole plot of this is heavily inspired by my beloved xaden and violet's bond with all their mind talking and arguing🤭🤭 (minus the dragons, etc)

[hp-hcs]

Hmmm how about a poly oneshot with bully Draco and Lorenzo who hates the reader for being with the golden trio and mainly potter ?? They hate how touchy and blushy harry gets around their darling and vice-versa. They hate how everyone thinks you two are together and you don't do anything to clear up the rumor. They hate how you're always in his dorm and they hate seeing your lipgloss mark left on harry. But God do they love you and can't take it anymore 🤭🤭

oooh, interesting! love to see that you’re a hoe for drama (lovingly)

hate how this turned out but wtv

lipstick — yandere! enzo berkshire & yandere! draco malfoy x gn! gryffindor! reader

tws: toxic/possessive/obsessive behavior, slut shaming, implied sexual content? (question mark?)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Look at stupid Potter. With his stupid scar, and his stupid friends, and his stupid Y/N.”

“His?” Enzo laughs. “Y/N is not his.”

“Not if we can help it,” Draco mumbles.

The pair watches in silence as you throw a snowball at the ginger weasel, ducking behind Harry when the bloodtraitor tries to retaliate.

Harry scooped you up in his arms, like a valiant prince coming to save the day.

They can both hear your clear laugh, even from the other side of the courtyard. It makes them both seethe with anger.

~~~

“C’monnnn,” you pleaded, tugging at Harry’s arm. “I have friends other than you. I wanna talk to Luna and Pansy and Blaise.”

Harry rolled his eyes, not putting up much of a fight as you dragged him into the Great Hall.

It was a new thing this season, to promote house unity, or whatever. The heads of houses had come up with the idea; tea, cocoa, and cookies in the Great Hall every Friday evening. Everyone welcome.

The Great Hall is dimmer than usual, not all of the floating candles lit. A few dozen student of all houses mingle and meander.

A group of kids sat on a blanket on the cool stone floor, almost as if it were a picnic.

Another group had thrown blankets and sheets over part of the ridiculously long tables, creating a blanket fort underneath.

You headed straight over to where Luna was painting Pansy’s nails. They greeted you with laughter as Luna’s unsteady hand got orange nail polish all over Pansy’s knuckle.

You gasp. “Harry! Let me paint your nails! Pleaseeee?”

He shrugged, looking over the myriad of colors laid out. He picked one up and held it out towards you.

“Snitch gold, for luck.”

You laugh, accepting the bottle and pointing for him to sit down.

“You don’t need luck, Harry. You’re you.”

Across the room, two Slytherins clocked Potter’s shy grin and bright blush.

~~~

You sat down with your friends, a wicked game of truth or dare already in full effect. As predicted, Gryffindor had won their game against Hufflepuff, resulting in a very large house party. You’d noticed a few Ravenclaws around and wondered how they got in, until you saw the Slytherins, the lions’ main suppliers of firewhiskey and good times.

“I dare you…” Ginny trailed off as she thought. A wicked grin spread across her face. “I dare you to wear that failed blue glitter lipstick that me and Cho made.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. That’s easy.”

“For the whole day tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not afraid. Bring it on.”

~~~ “Draco!” Enzo hissed as he harshly elbowed his friend in the ribs.

“Ow. What?” He followed Enzo’s finger, pointing straight at the Gryffindor table. “What am I looking at?”

“Potter.”

Harry James Potter was furiously scrubbing at his skin with a napkin as you, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were all practically howling with laughter.

Sure enough, you were true to your word, wearing that ridiculously tacky lipstick that stood out like a beacon when surrounded by all of that garish red and gold.

Harry let out a visible sigh, tossing down the napkin and sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest in an obvious sulk.

Right there, smack dab in the middle of his cheek, was a perfect blue stain from a kiss.

Draco’s ears burned with rage.

“Nope. Come on, Enz. We’ve waited damn long enough.”

~~~ “It’s not coming off, guys,” Harry whined.

“Why do you think we called it failed?” Ginny laughs, the blue smudge on his cheek looking quite comical. “That’s what happened when we tried to wear it.”

You snicker. “You look good in blue, Harry,” you teased, enjoying the faint blush that settled over his cheeks.

You suddenly felt a heavy hand come down on your shoulder, tightening to the point where it was almost painful.

You whirled around, surprised to see two Slytherins you’d barely talked to.

Harry sneered at the sight of his long-time rival, Malfoy. “What do you gits want?”

They both ignored him, as if he wasn’t there at all.

“We need to talk to you,” Enzo snapped, his hand on your shoulder tightening even more as he all but dragged you out of your seat.

You stumbled after him as Draco propelled you forward with a firm hand on the small of your back.

The two boys dragged you out into the hall, away from prying eyes. Draco wasted no time before shoving you up against the wall in a secluded alcove.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, kissing Potter?”

“W-what?” You stammered, your brain not yet having caught up with the situation.

Enzo scoffed. “Whoring yourself out to anyone who blushes at you, huh?”

“What?”

“How long have you been sleeping with him, hm? How long?”

“Wh- Harry? We’re friends!”

“Friends, huh? Friends?” Enzo scoffed.

“Yes!” You snapped. “Who d’you think you are, questioning my- mmfph!”

Draco surged forward and kissed you harshly.

~~~

Enzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, and Y/N L/N all stumbled into Defense Against the Dark Arts twenty minutes late, their clothes rumpled and their skin stained with blue lipstick.

[rinalouu]

-> sum: y/n recalls the moments in her life that led her to the promise she made in her 6th year. -> pairing(s): draco malfoy x potter!reader -> warnings: mentions of death, dark childhood, bullying | let me know if there is anything else! Reader is fem pronouns and afab. -> word count: 2k (holy cow) -> i do not own harry potter nor do i support anything the author does, i just own my personal plot and ideas. -> y/n = your name - n/n = nickname - h/c = hair color -> return to harry potter masterlist here

“Harry Potter… is dead!” Voldemort exclaimed with a sadistic smile to the crowd, as they all examined the limp body Hagrid was carrying. “No!” Ginny sobbed, running towards him, before Mr. Weasley stopped her, clutching the sobbing girl to his chest. Y/n whimpered, clutching onto the arm of the platinum blonde-haired boy beside her. A reassuring squeeze to her hand, kept her quiet, as she glanced into the fearful gaze of Draco Malfoy. Her brother was dead, everything was lost.

“Draco…” She murmured, tears building in her eyes as she tried to keep attention from herself. The boy shushed her, giving her lips a light peck. A silent way of reassuring her that he was there.

How did it come to this? Y/n couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as memories began overwhelming her, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes, and truly begin to feel.

-

“Y/n! N/n! This letter has our names on it!!” An excited boy waved a beige letter in front of the small girl, who couldn’t help but give him a skeptical look. 

“Harry… We haven’t got anyone to write to us, how in the world do we have-” She began lecturing him, a common occurrence in the Dursley household, although these two children didn’t quite look the part. Splitting images of each other, two halves of one whole, the boy and girl shared a bond like no other. All twins have a connection, but not all survive death together. She stopped herself, clearly catching the recipients of said letter.

“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? What’s that rubbish?” She murmured before an annoyed Dudley caught the attention of Vernon, who in turn, despite wanting to avoid it, sent them down a spiral of events that forever changed their lives. 

-

The scene shifted, suddenly the girl was in front of a platinum-haired boy, who had an annoyed look on his face. This was her third year, when Y/n finally unleashed her temper upon Draco Malfoy, the thorn in her side since the moment she stepped into the lavish castle of Hogwarts.

“What is your problem Malfoy? Why do you have such a stick up your arse all the time? Do Mommy and Daddy not give you enough attention? Is that why you feel the need to pester me constantly?!” The girl huffed angrily, pushing Draco slightly from her, a surprised look on his face. The look of surprise was quickly replaced with a smirk as the boy towered over her, crossing his arms.

“So the Kitty does have some claws.” He snickered, lightly pinching her cheek before stuffing his hand in his pocket and walking away, perhaps to pester someone else, leaving Y/n to stand there confused. This is where her feelings for Draco began to change.

-

Another shift, it was a year later. She found herself in the center of the great hall, the yule ball in full blast. Her (f/c) dress fit her nicely, and her hair was styled to her standard of perfection. She felt that jealous feeling arise as she glanced at Pansy and Draco dancing, giving a huff as she stormed out of the room. She wanted to pretend these feelings didn’t exist. He was the enemy, no matter how nice he had been to her since their interaction in their third year. She walked until she found a bench overlooking a window to the courtyard, sitting down with a sigh.

“What is wrong with me?” She fought the burn of her cheeks, trying to cool them down with her hands, to no avail. She hated this, being vulnerable. Ever since Harry’s name came out of that goblet, she built her walls thicker than imaginable. She thought it was impenetrable, until Draco Malfoy wormed his way through a crack. They were.. Friends. Although she wanted to be more. Footsteps took her out of her inner turmoil, and the man of her thoughts stepped into the light. “What do you want?” She sighed, keeping her gaze out the window.

“You left in a hurry, is it a crime to be worried?” He smarted off to her, taking the vacant seat to her right. Her stomach twisted, there he goes again with his words.

“Why would the ‘Great Draco Malfoy’ ever be worried about me, a ‘Potter’ no less.” Y/n gave a hiss, crossing her arms, trying to keep her gaze away from him. She knew if she looked into those sparkling silver eyes of his, it’d be as if she was under the imperius curse. 

“You’re more than just a Potter, Kitty.” He smirked, the nickname he’s had for her since 3rd year rolling off his tongue, making her roll her eyes. He wanted a reaction, and she refused to give him one. Sensing this, he continued, “Did Dean not meet your expectations?” He muttered, a tone she couldn’t decipher in his voice.

“Dean’s just a friend, I’m sure he’s off with some bimbo who’s in love with him. What’s it to you anyway?” She shot back, finally gaining the courage to look at him, her anger immediately leaving her as she met his gaze. A storm of jealousy swarmed in his eyes, and she had to fight back a smirk. “Aren’t you supposed to be off snogging Pansy somewhere? She hasn’t shut up since you asked her to be her date.” She tilted her head up at him, as his eyebrow twitched. 

“Please, I think I’d rather spend a day in a muggle city then snog her. Asking her was simply a formality, besides, I had someone else in mind.” His gaze shifted to gaze out the window, Y/n following his gaze to the courtyard. Snape was currently snaking his way around trying to find students trying to snog, it made her snort in amusement. 

“Oh? They must be pretty special if they caught your picky eye.” She nudged him teasingly, trying to ignore the feeling in her chest.

“Ya… She is.” He mumbled with a softness she was shocked to hear. Turning her gaze to him, she was met with his gaze already on her. Her cheeks warmed once more, she could only hope he couldn’t notice. 

“Oh? Well now I’m intrigued, what’s she like?” She pressed, poking his chest, turning toward him, ignoring the light shiver she gave as the wind started to softly pick up. Before she could protest, a black blazer was dropped on her shoulders, setting her senses on fire. His scent immediately overwhelmed her, his expensive cologne, fresh mint, and a hint of apple. She felt her brain struggling to catch up as he leaned closer to her.

“Well, she’s stubborn, feisty, and can be a little mean if she hasn’t eaten or slept enough. She’s a little dorky, and you can always find her with her nose in a book. She also has a heart like no other…” He trailed on, looking down at her, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Enough about me though, why are you out here alone?” He tilted his head, jabbing a finger at her. She gulped, was it her imagination, or did he just explain her?

“Well.. I- Uh..” She struggled to find the words, glancing down at his lips, before trying to find something more interesting. “I just wasn’t f-feeling it anymore..” She stuttered, looking at her hands, wringing them nervously. Snuggling into the warmth of his blazer, willing it to calm her blaring heart. She looked back up at him, his gaze going from her lips back to her eyes, a pleading look in his eyes. 

“Mhm..” He murmured, before he leaned down, catching her lips in a searing kiss. It felt like she was floating as she clutched onto his dress shirt, putting in as much passion as he was. Pent up feelings finally getting released as the two embraced the connection they had. That night changed their relationship forevermore.

-

“Draco, w-what is this?” Y/n shakily asked, looking down at Draco's forearm. This was their 6th year, they had just gotten back from summer break. Her and Draco were lounging in his prefect dorm, before a flash of black under his sleeve caught her attention. He yanked his arm back in alarm, getting up to create distance in between them. It was as if he thought the site would murder her at one glance.

“You… You weren’t supposed to s-see that.” He whimpered, clutching the arm to his chest. His whole demeanor changed, she could sense it. Draco suddenly became a scared little boy again, from the stories he told her about how he was brought up with his father.

“Draco.. Is that?” She asked once more, keeping her tone even so as to not upset him. She stood up, keeping her hands up, glazing from his arm to his face. His fear stricken eyes met hers, another whimper leaving him as he nodded, falling to his knees. She was quick to catch him, holding the sobbing man to her chest.

“I-I’m sorry.. I had too.. I didn’t want him to h-hurt you if I-…” He sobbed, clutching onto her. She rocked him, shushing him as she held him. 

“It’s alright.. I’m here, we’re okay. We’ll get through this. I promise, I will be by your side.” She kissed his forehead, he looked up at her.

“I won’t let you go, I won’t let t-them hurt you. I love you.” He whispered, giving her a small peck on her lips, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“I love you, Always.” She promised, continuing to comfort him through the night. Nothing could sway the connection between. Dark lord or not, she would be with him through it all.

-

The grip on her hand tightened as she was brought back to reality. Her eyes focused on the Dark Lord holding his hand out for Draco, his mother calling for him behind the serpentine man. 

“Draco.. Come.” She commanded in a soft voice. Y/n knew all the woman wanted was to protect her son, but she wouldn’t allow him to do this. She clutched his arm to her chest, keeping him from going to the other side.

“Y/n, y-you have to let me go darling, I’ll be fine.” Draco whispered, trying to keep himself from breaking down as he tried to pry his arm from her. She refused, making Draco huff, his eyes pleading with her as Voldemort called for him once more, his mother frantically asking him to come once more. She felt all eyes on her, but she didn’t care. They were a team, she refused to let him put his family before himself like he has for years. 

“No.” She looked up at him, unwavering determination in her eyes.

“Love, please.” He pleaded once more, looking back to his mother, and the dark lord, whose patience was running thin.

“Draco, we made a promise, remember? In 6th year? I’m not letting you go. You should know by now, how stubborn I am. We’re together, always.” She whispered to him, a strong smile reaching her face as he paused, recalling the memory. She was being strong for him, he could see the fear in her eyes, yet a strong smile was placed on her face.

“Draco, Now.” Voldemort hissed, but Draco shook his head, receiving a few relieved smiles from people in the crowd. Instead Draco kept his arm linked with the Potter girl beside him, they would stay together, even if it meant going against the strongest dark wizard ever known. He could see the absolute fear and disgust on his parents' faces but he didn't care.

He would choose her, Always.

-end

-> author's note: hello my lovelies, I am alive! I am so sorry if this sucks, it is 2am right now and I'm in draco brain rot and this has been on my mind for months... let me know what you think! and if you want more :) -> Harry Potter Tag list: None yet, comment to be added!!

[libraryofhogwarts]

A Deal Made on Impulse

Ginny Weasley x Pansy Parkinson

Ginny is in a sticky situation and Pansy seems to be the only way out. But why would she agree?

I'll Owe You One (Chapter 1)

The walk to Three Broomsticks was awful. Ginny could usually handle the cold. After years of playing on the Quidditch team, she thought she would have built immunity to it with the early morning practices, the grass still covered in frost, or the games played in lightning storms.

But no. It’s mid-winter, meaning the hills surrounding Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are covered in at least a foot of snow and the black lake is half frozen over. Trudging through the snow, boots crunching on the icy snow was not a pleasurable experience.

At least the trip was worth the reward. Ginny could not wait to step inside the pub, warmed by the roaring fire. She would order a butterbeer, hopefully the alcohol could help to heat her insides as well.

She finally crests the hill, setting off to cross the old stone bridge towards the cozy-looking candlelight in the windows of the restaurant.

The old brass door handle stings the skin of Ginny’s palm as she clutches it to open the door from the frost along its metal curve. She hisses and rubs her hands together.

Walking into the room roaring with chatter from other patrons, she makes a mental note to not forget her mittens on her next walk. If she’s honest with herself, however, it’ll probably slip her mind. For some reason, mittens are always the one thing she forgets.

Across a crowd of what looks to be third years, way too young to be in the pub, she sees her brothers, Harry, Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Theo huddled on the couch and surrounding armchairs propped in front of the massive sandstone fireplace.

She weaves her way through a bumbling group of teens, probably drunk off Butterbeer, past two fourth years awkwardly flirting. She inwardly cringes at the boy pretending to yawn, wrapping his arm around the girl. It’s the oldest trick in the book, does he think that’ll actually work?

The girl tips her chin down, hiding her small smile, and blushes when his hand makes contact with her shoulder. I guess so Ginny thinks. She shakes her head, leaving the awkwardness behind her to continue on her path.

Once she reaches the group she’s met with Hello’s and Gin you’re finally here’s, spoken over the top of one another. She addresses them all with a general “Hello, hello,” in greeting before shoving George to the side and plopping down on the end of the couch.

“Hey! What was that for?” George wines.

“I wanted to sit. You were in the way Georgie,” she says the last bit with a sickly sweet tone in her voice.

“You’re lucky I love you,”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too Georgie,” she stretches her legs and arms out in front of her towards the fire, trying to warm the limbs. The cold from outside still lingered in her bones.

The conversation between her friends resumes. Apparently, Harry was still hopelessly crushing on Cho and needed advice from Ron on what he should do about it. Neville, sitting in one of the armchairs chatted with the twins about the Quidditch game from two days ago. Ravenclaw lost against Gryffindor and while Neville had a lot of house pride his girlfriend, Luna, was a Ravenclaw so he sided with them, hence the friendly arguing between the three.

Hermione was sitting in Draco’s lap in the other chair; the pair in their own little world. They whispered in each other’s ears, Hermione giggling and blushing every so often at whatever suggestive thing Draco says.

Ginny’s heart aches a tinge at the sight of the couple. She wanted that. Her own person. Someone who understood her completely; could make her blush and laugh. Someone to love.

Ginny stands abruptly from her seat on the couch’s end, stretching her limbs. Hermione casts a worrying glance at her. The girls had become very close over the last couple of years especially. The best of friends truth be told. It’s almost as if Hermione could instinctually tell something was off with Ginny’s mood.

Ginny didn’t know if this warmed her heart or only made it worse. She loved that her friend knew her so well and cared enough to pay attention; Ginny was used to getting overlooked. Growing up in a house of almost all boys, she was just another one of the brothers it seemed.

She loved Quidditch more than the average girl her age, she wanted to know all about her father’s trinkets and tinkering, and more often than not she came in for dinner covered in mud after playing in the yard all day when she was young.

It did unsettle her, however, that her friend was so in tune with her cranky mood. She didn’t want that to be the norm for her personality. She did not want to weigh down her friends with her own issues. It wasn’t their problem to deal with.

Though nowadays it seemed that she was… unsettled more often than not. She was always finding the glass half empty rather than full and she didn’t know what to do; or how to change her mindset.

“Getting a drink,” she said with the brightest tone she could muster for Hermione’s sake. The woman just nodded, turning back to her boyfriend, knowing the redhead did not want to talk about what was on her mind.

Making her way across the room, she saddled up next to the mahogany bar. The bar top was glossy and smooth, the grains of wood stood out against the dark stain. There were brass stools with black cushions sporadically placed under the counter.

There was enough space for her to squeeze in between two stools and wait. She gave a wave, trying to flag down the bartender. He just gave a grunt of acknowledgment before turning back to the glass he was polishing. Grump Ginny thought.

He was an old man, with a scruffy beard and just as white of hair that reached the tips of his ears. In all the years Ginny has been coming here she doesn’t think he’s muttered more than ten words to her; usually choosing to communicate through grunts.

She looked to the shelf containing the alcohol, knowing it would take the bartender a couple of minutes before he begrudgingly made his way to Ginny to take her order.

She scanned the top shelf, nothing looked too enticing. The second shelf had some sort of liquid in a pear-shaped bottle. It glowed blue and had, what seemed to be a shimmer to it. Interesting, I’ll have to try that one of these days.

By the time the bartender made it to her, she was on her second perusal of the selves.

He grunted again by way of asking for her order.

“Just a Butterbeer please.”

He said nothing and grabbed a stout cup with a thick stem and some sort of swirling pattern to the glass. He filled the container almost full from the tap, then he set the glass down on the counter. Before Ginny could grab it however she noticed a figure in the mirror on the back wall behind the liquor.

No. Please no, not right now! It was her ex-boyfriend, Dean. They had dated for a handful of months before Ginny called it quits. He was nice enough if you ignored the fact that he complained about everything Ginny wore, who she talked to, and everything she did. Oh, and he seemed to be allergic to monogamy; always chatting up other women.

When she finally officially broke up he was upset but he left her alone after that, at least until a week later when he started showing up outside her classes, dorm room, at dinner or breakfast, and just in general any place he thought Ginny might be begging for her back.

He’d plead that he would change, that they were great together, that they should not let that connection go, they should give it another shot, blah blah blah.

At first Ginny found herself feeling sorry for the guy. Why? She had no idea, but then she remembered all the trouble he put her through and those emotions quickly faded. She tried to explain that this was best to Dean in the least harsh way possible; trying to keep some semblance of peace, but maybe she needed to be a bit harsher because he was not getting the point.

No matter how many times she’d tell him that it would never work, that they weren’t right for each other he didn’t take the hint. She was getting sick of having to reject the guy at every turn.

Now Dean’s form was moving closer in her direction. She moved to grab her glass and bolt for her friends but the bartender grunted again in disapproval. She looked away from her cup, at him to see that his wand was out. Right the foam. He tapped the stick on the side of the glass as it magically began to fill with a frothy foam on top.

She tapped her foot in impatience, grabbing the glass as soon as he was done and leaving a couple of galleons in its place, not caring that they were worth more than the cost of the beverage.

She turned intent on racing back to her group. If she made it in time Dean would surely leave her alone. Ginny was almost positive that Dean was scared of Draco.

Who could blame him really, Draco’s a scary guy but after seeing the way his eyes soften when Hermione rants about the latest book she’s reading or the way he places a steading hand on her elbow when she stumbles walking back from the library after hours of studying, Ginny can’t find it in her to fear him anymore.

Unfortunately, Dean was too close for her to make it back to the cozy couch. She turned in the other direction, hoping to lead him away from her friends so she could circle back before he noticed what was happening.

She passed the hallway that leads to the bathrooms when she heard him call her name. Ugh, the desperate way he said it. Like she was the one causing the issues and if she just heard him out they could fix this.

Well, they couldn’t. There was nothing to fix, not before and definitely not now. She was beyond sick and tired of having to delicately explain this concept to him. He just could not take no for an answer, could he?

She had to get this to stop. She could not take any more of the relentless pursuit. She felt like she might lose her mind if she had to endure one more moment of it. That’s when she saw her.

Pansy Parkinson.

She was in the same year as Ron and Harry but the Slytherin and her had shared quite a few classes. Even sat next to each other in one.

Pansy was walking towards her, likely on her way to the restroom from the looks of her route. Ginny sidestepped just in time to block the woman’s path. Pansy stopped abruptly at the unexpected intrusion. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion at Ginny’s obvious interruption of her path.

“What can I do for you, Weasley?” she had a teasing tone in her voice

“Kiss me?” her question was high-pitched, in an effort to soften the unexpected question.

“What?” her brows shot up her forehead.

“Please, I’ll owe you one. A huge one.” Her eyes pleaded, turning to the side in a way of gesturing to her ex, now standing behind her at a distance. Maybe he feared all Slytherin’s not just Draco? That could be useful information.

Pansy seemed to ponder the idea for all of two seconds, looking back towards Dean and then focusing her attention back on Ginny, “Okay,” she surprised Ginny by agreeing.

Just like that Pansy’s lips were on her own. She really didn’t think this far into her master plan, in the moment, stupid, impulsive plan. What should she do, and how should she react? She’d never kissed a girl before. She’d thought about it sure, but never done it.

Pansy answered her questions by sliding her cold fingertips across her temple and into her hair, the other hand coming to her waist and pulling her in. Their hips met in a crash just as Pansy’s tongue brushed lightly across her bottom lip asking for entry.

Ginny immediately granted her access, opening her lips, their tongues meeting and swirling. She whimpered, her free hand coming to the curve of Pansy’s waist and melting into the woman.

At Ginny’s touch, Pansy pulled back just slightly, her eyes closed, their foreheads resting together. The breaths intermingled, tangling just as their tongues had moments ago.

The woman pulled back, the cold air filling the now gaping space between them. Ginny wanted to whimper at the cold; the loss of touch but she held back. She looked up at Pansy, a slight pink, almost invisible, now coating her cheeks and the tip of her nose. It’s as if she’d been walking out in the cool air for a few minutes.

“You own me, Weasley,” Pansy started back for the hallway, “Don’t you forget it.” She threw that last bit over her shoulder.

Ginny looked over her shoulder to where Dean had been minutes ago only to find the space empty, the man nowhere in sight. She turned walking back to her friends, biting down in a hopeless effort to hide her smirk.

Except this smirk had nothing to do with the fact that she had avoided a confrontation with her ex and everything to do with the sassy woman she now owed a favor to.

She was so fucked.

Hello hello! Thank you for reading the first chapter to a fic that is very near and dear to my little sapphic heart. Now I've already spewed the nitty gritty on my AO3 so if you want some more info go check that out but I am still working on this fic. I am all ears to how you perceived this work: if its amazing pls do tell, if it's trash also lmk that lol. I'm very interested to know your opinion or if you have any ideas/wants on where you would like to see this series go. You can comment or my asks are totally open! Again thanks!!

[dryrsheet]

Day 2 of @microficmay: Resplendent word count: 386 pairing: harry/draco, background ginny/pansy

Harry and Draco came to their agreement at Ginny Weasley and Pansy Parkinson’s wedding. After nearly three years of evading conversation, Harry knew dodging Draco would no longer be sustainable. It was a problem for a different day, as Harry was focused on working himself up to cross the dance floor to get more to drink.

The dress Ginny wore was no one’s but her own, despite Molly's protests. Harry thought it was fitting; she was so unlike any other person Harry had ever met. He thought no bride had ever been so utterly resplendent in her happiness as his best friend was. 

“Potter,” Draco Malfoy said, suddenly appearing at Harry’s side and dropping into the chair next to him without asking. 

Harry’s mouth twitched as he fought a smile. “Malfoy.”

Draco’s approach to interacting with Harry was painful politeness, and it suited neither of them. “We’ll never be rid of each other now, unless you plan on getting a new best friend. Maybe by returning to the loving arms of your previous duo?” 

“I’m still best friends with Ron and Hermione,” Harry said, but it was harder to meet with them now that they were building a family. Harry watched Ron spin Ginny around on the dance floor. “But no. I’m not going anywhere.”

Straightening, Draco primly crossed one leg over the other and rested his hands together on his knee. The bland placidity on his face faltered, and the following brief glimpse of the obnoxious, snotty git Harry knew from school was nearly as entrancing as Ginny’s dress made of glitter and silk. “Well, neither am I. I have a suggestion. For the sake of future peace.”

“A suggestion,” Harry repeated, sounding dubious. 

“They’ll be on their honeymoon for exactly one week. During that time, we should see if we can manage more than a passing tolerance for each other,” Draco explained, gesturing between their shoulders. Their suits were inverse in color, black and plum to match the bridesmaid dresses. Harry’s was mostly plum and Draco’s mostly black.

“You want us to try being friendly for a week?” Harry asked once he stopped checking out Draco’s legs in his well-tailored trousers. 

Draco interlocked his fingers together again, his face blank. “Only if you’re interested in making them happy.” 

Annoyed, Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

other snippets from this verse (all can be read out of order): x x

[acciotheomione]

Tying the Nott by ShayaLonnie

In a post-war world where Hermione is friends with Draco Malfoy and most of her friends have developed relationships with former Slytherin classmates, Hermione is single. However, when former Death Eater—Theo Nott—is dying, Hermione is guilted into marrying him to save his life.

*Indefinite Hiatus—Not Abandoned*

Link to AO3

Link to FFN

AO3 tags below the break

Archive Warning(s): Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley

Additional tags: Post-Hogwarts, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Aftermath of Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Curses, Canonical Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Characters That Died In Canon Survive Because Fanfic Magic

[happilykrispypirate]

Impossible (Ch. 4)

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x fem!Soulmate!Potter!reader.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst and my shitty writing.

Summary: Mattheo and the reader are made for each other, literally. In a world where soulmates are connected through physical and emotional pain and a tattoo on the back of their left wrist, Mattheo and the reader must struggle to find a way to cope with the fact that their soulmate is on the opposing team.

A/N: Sorry I have been meaning to update, we recently moved so everything has been kind of hectic. Also sorry for the shitty chapter, I have some ideas but it has to be in the next one, which is also going to be the last one for the 6th year.

Taglist:

@abaker74 @evycloudberry

-

"It's like he completely different person," Hermione said.

It's a few days after the incident in the Great Hall. Hermione had finally gotten the guts to ask me about what happened.

"I know," I said, "He can be the nicest person but he is the biggest asshole to exist. You know he's only nice to me when there are other people around."

"You don't have to worry about him anymore," She said sitting down next to me. We were in the Slytherin common room, "Everyone's avoiding him, even Ginny."

"She shouldn't, he's her soulmate," I said.

"She said she doesn't want anything to do with him at the moment," Hermione said, "It was all her choice."

"Anyway, I have to go, I'm meeting Ron for a date in about an hour," She said.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said and waved at her as she left the common room.

Not even 5 minutes later Pansy and the boys walked in. They were out getting snacks for the night. We decided we'd have a sleep over in the common area.

"Hello love, I got your favourite!" Mattheo smiled holding up the snack as he walked over to me.

"How did you know this is my favourite?" I asked looking at him as he sat down next to me.

"I saw you stuffing your face with them during one of the daydream things," He said smiling.

"Okay, makes sense," I said chuckling.

"Hey Mattheo, come help me here," Theo said.

I had found a projector in the Room of Requirement so I asked McGonagall if I could take it.

I loved watching movies with Dudley in the living room when everyone was sleeping. We would set up the projector and make a big fort.

I was watching the boys string up the sheet. Pansy was sitting next to me, also watching them. They lifted their hands about their heads making their shirts lift, showing off their V-lines.

"Fuck I'm seriously considering going to Paris right now," I said my mouth agape.

"I'll come with you," She said and we looked at each other before bursting out giggling.

-

Mattheo had his arms wrapped around me as we watched the movie. Pansy was with Blaise, Draco, Theo and Enzo all laid SEPERATELY (they were secretly cuddling but they told me if I ever told anyone they would kill me).

The door to the common room opened and Dumbledore walked in with Snape. Snape puts on the light and we all sit up and look at each other confused.

"Ms Potter and Mr Riddle, please follow us," Snape said.

Mattheo and I looked at each other confused before we got up and followed them.

Mattheo was obviously nervous, Snape calling him can only be a bad thing, but Dumbledore as well? That's even worse. Mattheo grabbed a hold of my hand as we followed Snape and Dumbledore into Dumbledore's office.

As we entered, we saw Hermione and Ron with Harry standing as far away from them as possible. He glared at me and Mattheo as we walked in.

"What is he doing here?" Mattheo asked pulling me over to the other side of him, away from Harry.

"Do not worry, Mr Riddle, if Mr Potter tries anything with Ms Potter, he will be out of here faster than he can say expeliarmus," Snape said glaring at Harry.

"What is this about professor?" I asked looking at Dumbledore.

(Honestly I cannot remember much of the movies and I haven't read the 6th book yet, so the following is going to a lot of bullshit, and I am very sorry)

"When Voldemort tried to kill you and Harry, we all thought he was dead. It was his physical body that was destroyed. His soul was split into 8 pieces, Horcruxes," Dumbledore said, "By destroying these 8 horcruxes, we will have the chance to kill him."

"You two have already destroyed one of the Horcruxes when you ventured down into the Chamber of Secrets to save Ginny Weasley," Snape said as he held up the diary with the hole in the middle of it.

"Now I have located another one but I am going to need your help," Dumbledore said.

I looked over at Mattheo, I knew that he was scared, I could feel it. He was betraying his father. He looked over at me and nodded.

I turned back to Dumbledore, "How can we help?"

[aphroditestempleimagines]

Chapter 2: Going all Pansy

16+ (read warnings for more accuracy)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x gryff!fem!reader

Colour: Naughty

Masterlist

Warnings: first and second base (although it's a bit unclear where that begins and ends), I'm building a relationship here, fluffy stuff, tops coming off & kissing/massaging of naked upper bodies is the more apt description, language

Time: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Words: a lot. Longer than the last one. Two fast scrolls maybe

Synopsis: The twins have a crazy idea; one of you is to sneak into the slytherin common room and steal the Inquisitorial Squad's schedule so you can all pull a prank in Filtch and the Slytherins you hate. You draw the shortest straw (in a matter of speaking) and it is you who are chosen to execute the mission. But will you once Draco comes your way?

"Come on come on, someone's gotta do it!"

"Step up step up, we appreciate your help!"

Fred and George's jingles sung in the Gryffindor common room. They passed a hat around the sitting area where most students gathered at this late hour. A lot of first years, profoundly fascinated by the Weasley twins' evergrowing reputation, were ready to put their names in the hat almost as soon as it reached them. That was when you, Harry and Ginny stepped in and added yours, lightly shoving back the first years' hands. They were too young and not involved with Dumbledore's army enough to be eligible for detention or, worse, expulsion.

"Absolutely not", you said grabbing the small paper with the name of another first-year before it disappeared inside the Weasleys' hat. You gave George a glare when he opened his mouth to complain.

After a few more rounds around the couches, the wizard's hat had grown a significant bump on its crown. Fred took out his wand and tapped on the hat's brim twice before pouring its contents into the crackling fire. The flames rose and spat out burning embers into the common room, which danced over the heads of your classmates and formed your name like a fiery constellation on the common room's ceiling.

"And here's the lucky lady!", George cried like a travelling performer

"Aren't we lucky pals, Georgy?"

"We are indeed, Freddy"

And after that short exchange, they sang together, "you are our trusty burglar"

You regretted right then and there ever giving Mr Weasley your copy of The Hobbit, as he had asked. You should had known one of the twins would get their hands on it sooner or later.

"Will you repeat her mission, Freddy?"

"I got ya, Georgy", Fred climbed on the low side table, "this lucky lady will break into the Dungeons and steal the lapdog squad's schedule"

"Giving us time to ready our prank AND information on where to pull it off", George continued his brother's words.

"I still can't see why you can't do this yourselves", you murmured.

Fred jumped off to land next to you, "because we need time"

"And, unlike Ronald", said George

"You don't screw everything up", they said together, followed by a "hey" from the other side of the room as Ron sunk deeper into his armchair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come morning, a lovely winter Saturday, you snuck into the quidditch field while the Slytherin team was training for their next match. Your heart filled with a fiery hatred as Umbridge had given full freedom to Slytherin to play any time they wished while MacGonagall basically had to beg for Gryffindor to do the same.

You were careful to pick your clothes, subtle and non-uniform, to not draw attention from afar. You climbed under the benches to the spot where Pansy Parkinson sat, cheering for her classmates along with some other younger Slytherins. You took out your wand. Your hand stayed still, wand tip hovering just behind Pansy's hair, as your eyes glimpsed over her torso and caught Draco, his blonde hair and emerald green coat waving behind him as he flew through the air. All these years you had been focused on Harry, how he chased the snitch match after match, never sparing a look on his opponent. Malfoy turned and twirled and glided over the field like a proper acrobat. He was insanely quick and agile, barely giving you any time to examine him as he passed by the benches. No wonder your team had such a hard time when faced with Slytherin.

"Ouch", a voice snapped you back to reality.

Pansy had kicked the girl in front of her. She leaned forward and said, "Gryffindor has another match next week, i say we cheer for the Red-headed disaster a little more"

You knew she meant Ron. Immediately your mind went back to Fred and George's plan. It did not just have to involve Filtch. If you had the schedule you could all organize a wonderful gift for the rest of his helpers as well. You flicked your wand and cut off the edges of Pansy's hair. The hair fell lightly towards the ground like leaves. You sat lower and opened your palm below the bench until a few strands landed on it. All you had to do now was borrow a little of the polyjuice potion Fred and George had been keeping in the dorms. You did not know where Pansy would be posted, but you could still bet that she would be patrolling tonight, a Saturday night, known for the implicit behaviour of the students.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That very night you put on the Slytherin robes the Gryffindors kept hidden in their tower for such occasions and got ready to drink up the grey disgusting potion. You felt Pansy's hair travel down your throat as you gulped down the polyjuice potion in the broom closet of the north corridor. You stepped outside and examined your reflection on the closest window; you looked exactly like her. The dark straight hair, the bitchy smile, the arched eyebrows. You could not believe your eyes even though you have had experiences with this potion before.

Time was of the essence. You pulled up your hood and travelled down to the dungeons. You hang around, pretending to tie your laces, and waited for a few first-years to open the door for you. You climbed down the marble steps that led deeper into the dungeon as you entered the Slytherin common room. The walls were covered by emerald curtains that together with the black furniture gave the room a strange dark appeal. It is what you would imagine Malfoy manor to look like, Mr Malfoy being a deatheater and all. It was in every way, a serpent's home.

"Pansy", Blaise called, "Why are you back?"

You couldn't speak. The polyjuice potion did nothing to alter your voice. Blaise was close with Pansy and he'd definitely notice the change. You turned to face him. You angrily patted your throat and gestured on your cheeks, hoping he'd understand you meant "Weasley". To your fortune he did.

"Merlin's beard.", he said, "don't worry Pans, we are gonna get back at them"

You nodded trying to imitate Pansy's crooked smile. You fake tripped as you walked away, drawing back Blaise's attention.

"They really did a number didn't they", he said putting your hand over his shoulder, "come on, let's go upstairs, I'll help you out"

"You stay there you creep", said one of the girls you'd seen Pansy hang out with, "think you can just use Pansy to get in our dorms? No way"

"That is not what I-", Blaise began but the girl had already led the two of you halfway to the dorms.

It was easy to search around once she left you alone. You had limited time on your hands. The girl had done you a solid by leading you directly to Pamsy's bed. You opened the drawers and her trunk, you flipped through her books and papers but no schedule could be found. Someone in their squad must had received it. Pansy was a prefect, it seemed perfectly logical for her to have it. But from what you have seen, she did not, which only left one option; Malfoy.

You creaked open the door and gazed at the empty hallway. If the design was similar to the one at Gryffindor tower, the boys' dormitories would only be a few steps away. You folded a random piece of paper you found on Pansy's desk and stepped outside, tiptoeing your way to the fifth year boys dorms.

Inside reigned a strong aroma of sweat and cologne. You held the piece of paper in your hand as you looked around; no one was there. You put the paper into your robes' pocket as you needn't an excuse anymore. Your eyes scanned the green-lit room, searching for any clue that would give away Malfoy's possessions. You spotted two doors at the edge of the room. You opened slightly the left and peaked in. Your eyes were confronted with another small bedroom. It seemed to once had been part of the room but after its owner moved in someone had probably separated it from the rest. The air inside was refreshingly clean. If Malfoy had a room in this castle, this would be it.

You closed the door behind you and began your search. It did not take long this time. On top of the small table next to Malfoy's bedside was laid the schedule you had travelled there for. You found a quill and paper on Malfoy's desk and copied down the information. You did not know what kind of anticopying spell Umbridge might had placed on the carton and you did not care to find out (and possibly be found out after its effects).

Creeeeeek

The door opened. You had no time to hide yourself but was quick enough to hide the copied schedule inside your pocket.

"Pansy?", you heard a familiar voice behind you but dared not talk, "Blaise told me you were hexed but- the fuck are you doing in my room?"

You felt your nape tingling as your hair above it began to return to its true form. You turned around to face him so his crystal blue eyes would only see Pansy's guilty face and not y/n's disintegrating spell. You squeezed your lips shut; words could not escape you at this time. He might not match your voice to your name (which was still quite improbable since you had been spending more time talking in your secret spot by the lake lately) but he'd definitely recognize it as foreign.

"I told you, we're done", Malfoy spoke first to your relief but his words raised more questions in your head, "We'd agreed from the start that we'd take advantage of our friendship only until we met someone else. And I have"

He walked to the drawer table on your left.

"Did you lose your badge?", he said taking out from the first drawer a spare Slytherin prefect badge, identical to his. He extended it to you. "There"

You pinned it on your robes and nodded.

"That hex really did a number on you didn't it?", he laughed and turned back into the open drawer, "You should do it more often, I'm enjoying the silence."

The burning feeling of the spell wearing off spread from your nape to your face. Soon, every aspect of you would be revealed. With his back turned on you, you began making your way to the door.

"Pff", Malfoy exclaimed, "It's no fun teasing if you can't give me a comeback."

You heard a small chuckle coming from him. He was turning into the Malfoy that you had just begun getting to know. All these years you were faced with only a mean grin, especially when Harry was around. Your mind still struggled to process that those lips could form something else.

"Y/n always has a comeback", he murmured, to himself most likely but you had walked at just the right distance to hear him.

A gasp was heard just as you were getting near the exit. His hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. His fingers relaxed once he gazed upon your face.

"Y/n?", he said

You put on an innocent smile and said "Hi"

He pulled you into his embrace. You could smell his cologne and freshly cleaned robes as his fingers combed your head.

"What are you doing here?", he pulled you away to look back into your eyes.

Your hand in your pocket grasped tighter at the paper with the information you copied. You could not possibly tell him the truth. You walked out of his arms and to the door. You could not escape as you were now. Draco was perhaps the only person in this part of the school who could cover for you. Who could get you back to your dorm. He was even a prefect and he could lead you back unnoticed by professors at this late hour. But he wouldn't do any of it if he knew the truth of why you were there. Your hands reached for the handle again. Your fingers trailed down to the key. With one move, you turned it, locking the door shut.

"I just wanted to see if I can get to your room", you said, your turned back shielding your stupid grin from his eyes.

"Why would you wanna do that?"

His tone had changed. It was more playful, in a way. You heard his robes ruffle as he approached you. You turned back to him and he was inches away. You pulled his collar and stood on your toes to reach his sweet lips. After one breath he pulled himself deeper into a second kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, you wrapping yours behind his head.

"You know", he broke away for a second, a less mean but equally mischievous smile like the one you were used to see on him making its appearance. "These colours look so fucking good on you", he said.

He kissed you again, and you kissed him back. His left hand rode upwards on your back, his right trailed over your body until it reached the cheek of your butt. You felt him push you and it was not long before your body fell on the door. Malfoy raised his left hand and placed it on the back of your neck, his fingers entangling between your hair as his next kiss reached deeper both down your throat and your pounding heart. A small gasp escaped you as his lips moved to your neck. He was halted only by your closed shirt.

His mouth hovered over your covered panting chest. He raised his gaze to look you in the eyes. You took advantage of thay fleeting moment of hesitation to pull his robe and switch your places, slamming his back a little harder than you would like on the wooden door. His smile, happy and playful, made him even more irresistible as your hands dove under his robe, pushing and throwing it over his shoulders and onto the floor. He did the same with yours but even faster, and moved on to pull up your dark sweater vest. He broke off the kiss and took out his own vest, messing up his usually well combed blonde locks.

With his tie exposed you were able to pull him close easier, fingers behind the knot. Your eyes were closed but you could sense his hands feeling your body as they travelled down your torso until they were hugging your waist. He lifted you up just a bit and walked closer to the bed. He let out an exhausted sigh as he left you next to it, but his smile was not to be hidden.

"Geez, y/n, that was harder then expected", he could barely contain his laughter as he joked.

You lightly hit him on the arm but he continued smiling. He wrapped his arms around you and fell on the mattress with you next to him.

"I'm joking", he said softly and gave you a small kiss on your nose, "i like you the way you are"

He brought his hand to your cheek but you grabbed it and held it down on the matress next to his head.

"That does not get you out of the woods", you leaned closer with a playful smile and kissed him on the neck.

You heard his breathing elevate before you felt his body push you back. He pulled you both further onto the bed and brought your hands to his shirt.

"I better atone then, I suppose", he said as you took out his tie and undid his top buttons. He leaned to your ear and whispered, "Wouldn't you say, my lady?"

His breath tickled your ear and neck almost as much his words tickled your heartstrings. Before you knew it, he had brought his hands to your shirt too, just as you were finishing unbuttoning his. Once your shirt was no longer on your body, he pulled you in closer so your legs wrapped around his torso. He buried his face in your chest, his hand feeling your thigh. Your head fell back as he removed your bra and his warm lips caressed your exposed breasts. His breath, a warm explotion on your skin, send shivers down your spine. You were already panting when you pushed him down on the matress. Your hair fell to your side as you dove over him, a small curtain drawing over his left. Your fingers travelled down, feeling his body. He was not as built as you had imagined, but fit nonetheless. It was better, because he was not in your fantasy anymore. He was there, with you, being with you. His hands touched and pressed and felt your entire torso as you lightly bit his neck while kissing him. He let out a small sound, almost like a light gasp that he was holding back. You still had layers of fabric seperating the lower parts of your bodies but you could feel the effect you had on him, even if he could not feel he had the same effect on you.

He switched your places so you were laying down under him. You gasped surprised but laughed with him as his head bumped into yours. His nose touched yours, kissing you like a puppy in love. His arms supported his body like pillars as he leaned to kiss your naked torso, from your colarbone to your belly, his fingers tracing your curves, stopping only at the waist of your skirt.

He must had felt you tighten up since he stopped immediately. He raised his head and climbed back up to you, cupping your right cheek with his palm. "It's okay", he smiled, reading your mind, "we can go slow"

He kissed you higher on your body, his hands pulled away from your skirt.

"Aren't you a knight", you chuckled between kisses and leaned to his ear to whisper, "my knight"

Knock, knock, knock

The door cut your giggling short. You instinctively held your breath. Draco brought his index to his lips before turning to the door.

"What?", he said sourly, the old Malfoy returning for a moment.

"The fuck are you doing Draco?", a voice that probably belonged to Goyle said from the other side, "We have patrol."

"Then go patrol", Draco responded sharply, "I'll meet you when I fucking can"

You threw a light hit on Draco's shoulder as you heard Goyle's footsteps fade away.

"This is why people find you annoying", you told him.

He laughed and gave you a quick kiss on the lips followed by one on your forehead.

"But you still love me anyway", he smiled, so close to your face you could feel his breath.

You brought a hand to his cheek and teased, "love is a very strong word"

He took that hand of yours in his and kissed its knuckles. "Well, something for me to fix in time", he said standing up and pulling you with him.

You covered your exposed chest as you felt for the first time how cold the room truly was, but Draco quickly brought you your shirt. You both swiftly got dressed. Draco changed the colour of your robes to blue since you did not have the polyjuice potion to cover for you anymore. A Ravenclaw would draw far less attention in that particular common room. You pulled over your hood.

"We're gonna have to find somewhere else to meet though", Draco sighed, "this is gonna be especially hard to repeat". He placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer to his side. "Unless you stay in Slytherin", he smiled.

"Or you switch to Gryffindor", you snarked, "both equally impossible"

He pulled off your hood just enough to kiss you over the hair, before pulling it back in place. He guided the two of you out of the common room and up the stairs to the main castle, never bumping into his classmates on the squad by sheer luck or, as he put it, because 《at least they listened to him》.

You spotted Ronald from two floors bellow as you and Draco climbed the moving staircases to your tower. The staircase moved out of Weasley's sight and you pulled Draco and yourself to the nearest corridor.

"Oh great, Weezlebee's here", Malfoy said but his sentence was cut short as your elbow met his side.

"Stop harassing my classmates", you whispered angrily at him.

He opened his mouth, possibly to complain or offer some ridiculous argument but instead in the end he sighed and said "Fine, I'll try"

Ronald's face reminded you of the small but valuable piece of paper that you had still inside your pocket. You spotted the slytherin prefect pin on your colar; it was lucky no one had noticed among the newly painted blue colours of your robes. You took the pin out and gave it back to Draco as you told him to return to his friends, knowing that Ronald was in on your previous scheme and would not bring you to Mcgonagall for being out this late.

"Take it", Draco closed your fingers back around the pin, "breaking in our common room is quite an accomplishment".

He gave you one last kiss, this time a small and puckery one on your left cheek, and dissapeared in the dark hallway. You took out the paper with the Inquisitorial Squad's schedule. Your hand dove in the inside pocket of your robes and found your wand. You took it out, tapped three times on the paper, murmured the spell you learned a few years ago, and Draco's name dissapeared from the bottom of the list. Then, you made your way up to the painted lady's portrait and told Ron that the break-in was a success.

If you enjoy my work, please buy me a coffee

[clarrissanewt]

Attraction and Love

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader

Warnings: college!au, enemies to lovers, swearing

Requested?: no, but definitely wanted;)

Summary: A college, two rivals and an unending urge to strangle each other's throat- where would the undeniable attraction show it's color?

A/n: thought of this with zero experience on college life, do let me know if something's wonky!

To say her spirits were high today, would be an understatement. Second semester of the third year needs to be given some (or maybe all the) credits.

Finally she can pick a course where there wouldn’t be a need to see the goddamn face of Potter.

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

“Lupin, honestly, just throw me a class where he won’t be there.”

The grey-haired man sighed, nuzzling his face in his palms. Shaking his head at the girl in front of him, he titled the screen of his computer towards her. “Psychology might go well with chemistry… you got biology too?”

Y/n looked at her advisor beady eyed. “...yeah.”

“Alright. That’s all,” the sound of the button resonated throughout the room as Lupin sat back in anticipation.

“Psychology it is,” she typed furiously in her phone, and judging by the smile on her face, Lupin knew it had to be Weasley on the other side. “Ginny’s in the course too?”

“Yeah, all your friends are, on the side note, this class meets thrice a week- alternate days- Monday, Wednesday and Friday. You can check the timings with Professor McGonagall.”

Doing a little dance mentally, she braced up her sling bag, and cooing a ‘thanks, have a great day’, she skipped towards the dorms.

Was she anticipating psychology because it would be fun? ...maybe

Was she anticipating it because he won’t be there? ...definitely yes!

“Before we enter the hell hole of the second semester,” Y/n giggled at her red-haired friend, as she fell back on the bean bag beside Hermione, “we need to have fun!”

Pansy sent a look to Y/n which read like ‘have they drunk their ass off?’ to which she only passed another look.

First semester wasn’t that bad; Y/n had excelling scores in her courses except the fact that he got almost the same in all the classes they shared.

The only class she seemed to like in his presence was chemistry. Oh, before you ask the reason, they had Professor Snape.

Pretty self-explanatory.

“Look, look, look,” Hermione ticked her fingers in suspicion, “if only Ginny and I would be honest, it wouldn’t be worth it…”

Pansy clicked her tongue in disgust while Luna drifted into the kitchen to help the tipsy Ginny.

“Just for tonight,” Y/n pulled the raven-haired girl beside her, who was still shooting glares at Granger for the stunt she was pulling in. “I’m happy for today.”

“Because you snogged that high rated guy?” The Weasley cackled from the counter, earning a light smack from the blonde. “What do they call him…? Potter!”

Y/n rolled her eyes as she drifted to open the windows, the first reason being, he would get disturbed.

Yeah, don’t judge this girl by her mind.

“I heard he took psychology this semester.”

‘He toOK WHAT?”

“Psychology?” Pansy answered bluntly as she swigged the glass Ginny held out for her.

“Fuck this semester too.”

The bushy-haired girl sniggered from the corner, “I thought you would be happy, it’s the first time in three years that we get the same course.”

“Yeah, but that scar faced Potter? He’s a pain in ass!”

“I beg to differ,” Ginny snorted in amusement, “he’s...how Pansy describes...nice, hot guy…”

“I didn’t!” Pansy retorted as she emptied her glass. “He’s polite though, I never get why you two don’t get together?”

“Oh, I got this,” Y/n leaned forward, earning pretended serious looks from the group. “Back in our first year, we were both running for the same associated student positions, and wow, suddenly we were rivals!”

This met with several ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the group.

“On the second note, he gets almost the same marks as me, yeah wait for it, Ginny, that roasts me to level 50. And last semester when Hermione had borrowed his contraband hotspot and managed to set it on fire? Yeah, he framed me for it!”

“I don’t know…” Hermione shrugged at her. “He’s a nice friend of mine-”

“Yeah, but I got framed for it!”

“They need to spend a night together to sort this aggression out,” Luna chirped, which met the hums of all and an eye roll from Y/n.

“Really? What is it, really? A high school?”

“Sounds like a hyped enemies to lover trope!”

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

“Before we start with this semester,” Y/n struggled to listen intently, all thanks to the Potter slanders she blabbered the whole night, “I advise you all not to waste your precious time in fighting me. This course of psychology is meant as a-”

The door opened with a ‘wham’ and Y/n didn’t even need to turn around and look towards the door of the lecture hall.

Oh, definitely, it had to be Potter.

She heard a small chuckle from Pansy, who, judging by the smirk on her face, was definitely planning.

“Yes?” Y/n puckered her brows at her. “What is it?”

“Nothing much,” the girl shrugged, “I’m planning on asking Ginny out-”

“What! Really? Why didn’t you tell this sooner?”

“Okay? Wait there. I just thought-”

“As I was saying, before Mr. Potter decided to politely intrude on us,” McGonagall started again, her fingers drumming the surface of the heap of colorful blinders, “The course is meant much as a project rather than lectures. Project as a team of two. By the end of the month, I’d be pleased to let you know that the groups have already been made. Yes, Ms. Weasley, don’t latch on to Granger. If you decide to turn revolutionary, I don’t care.”

Y/n sighed from the last row of the aisles. There wouldn’t be a way she could have been paired with Potter?

“Professor Lupin is on his way, and he will assign you your partners. To avoid plagiarism of ideas, every group will have a different topic.”

To Y/n’s utter dismay all her friends were paired up with each other and as Lupin moved to her at the end, she had already sworn to drop this course.

Of course, it had to be Potter, it had to be Lupin’s doing, for God’s sake!

“It’s Potter?”

“Oh! So our little girl has got smarter,” Professor Lupin grinned as he nodded. “Alright, you can move next to him.”

Y/n poked her head from behind the Professor to find the same uninterested, verdant eyes glaring at her.

Smirking, she pointed to the vacant seat beside her. To Lupin’s utter displeasure, he copied her actions. There was no way their kiddish rivalry would end.

For fifteen minutes, the seat poking game continued. At last, the Professor had to sign in.

“Children, children, you both are twenty one. I can use my authority over you both, but what small children say, let’s compromise?”

“Can’t she just walk to the front of the hall and end this stuff?” The raven-haired boy shot, pointing to the front aisle.

“And you? Too scared to come to the back?”

The whole class of twenty-nine pairs of students along with a pair of professors ogled in interest.

“I call in for compromise!” Lupin chimed in. “It will be a shame if Professor McGonagall handles twenty-nine pairs of students alone and I keep on struggling with one.”

Y/n brushed off the bubbling urge to jump at Potter and strangle him as she followed Lupin to a row exactly in the middle of theirs.

Potter greeted her with a scoff and she replied with another.

“Alright, time for the topic, I’ve five topics for you both to choose from- the twist is you don’t get to see the topic.” He picked up five different blinders and placed them in front of the two explosive students. “Choose a color.”

“Blue-”

“Green-”

“I said blue!”

“Green, Professor, I choose green!”

“I came to the class first,” Y/n squinted in rage as she turned to her assigned partner. “I have the right to choose!”

“I got to know that you will stick to my throat for this semester first. It’s my right-”

The adult inhaled deeply for another hell ride. “Are you both in your terrible-twos, honestly? One of you just suck up your pride and compromise.”

“Fine,” the green-eyed boy huffed after a silent battle of five minutes. “Blue it is.”

Y/n simpered in little victory as she grinned at the Professor. But as she opened the flap of the blinder, her heart latched into the stomach.

“Attraction and Love?”

“Oh, that’s a nice topic!” The Professor winked at them before retreating to the podium.

“Don’t look at me like I knew the fucking topic.”

“That’s why I’m better- I chose green.”

She ignored his ‘self love at it’s best’ rants as she opened her laptop. “Like I was going to choose that fucking color you chose.”

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

“What about the time you both actually talked?” Luna tilted her head in curiosity. “Has it ever happened?”

“Why are you all wasting my Sundays over that Potter?” Y/n groaned as she tapped an extremely rude message to him over fixing a better time for discussing the bloody project.

“Come on… loosen up!” Hermione whined as she flapped through her Greek mythology books. “Having an upper hand on Ginny is fun.”

Y/n gave her a look which read, ‘honestly? I’m no book!’

“That was...well, that was back in the first year too. The time when we were choosing our student organizations. You remember that day when he walked into me? That very day!”

“Yeah…” the bushy-haired girl yawned. “I’ve to admit, he looked super cute that day.”

“Hermione,” Y/n warned as she typed yet another rude message, “he’s your best friend.”

“I know but I’m just complimenting! His blue eyes looked so charming!”

“Excuse me?” Y/n looked at her in disbelief. “He’s got green eyes.”

“And I thought you said you never look at him!” Hermione howled as she poured herself a glass of water.

“Hermione, that’s gross.”

“Alright, what about Attraction and Love?”

Luna and Hermione chuckled as Y/n walked out of the room, the laptop tucked under her arm.

“Open the damn door!” The girl shouted as she continued slamming the door. “Potter, I swear, if you don’t, I’ll do something even I don’t know.”

On the other hand, there was a tense silence inside. As Draco and Ron watched the raven-haired boy pacing in the kitchen at the ever increasing pace of banging. “Can’t any one of you just tell her I don’t exist?”

Ron shook his head and motioned towards the door.

What bloody nice friends he has got.

Slowly, he opened the creaking door, just enough to get a glimpse of her face.

“Oh? Are you standing in front of my door?” He smiled at her. “Let me just politely slam the door on your face.”

“Don’t you dare!” She stuck her foot between the door, still scared that he is Potter, and he knows no restraint of rudeness when it comes to her. So to be honest, there were ninety nine percent chances he would still close the door on her foot.

No matter how out of luck she is when it comes to him, he did not close the door.

Oh God, just bless him a little.

“As much as I hate sharing this semester with you, I just wanted to inform you that I’ve already started.”

“So have I,” he huffed and walked inside, leaving her no option but to follow.

“What are you on? Page two?”

“Not exactly. I’m on twenty.”

“You are not.”

“Oh, you bet, I’m.”

Alright, maybe coming here wasn’t the nicest plan.

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

With two weeks into the project, Y/n was shaking in disapproval that more than half of the class had already completed their project on their respective topics, but whenever they met together, there seemed no way out to even write an extra page.

Sentences were slashed out due to lack of a comma, a foreign word as ‘adolescence’ and what not.

Y/n definitely had the murderous urge to throw his goddamn specs, shut the laptop and just walk away.

If Lupin ended up pairing them together, oh lord, then Lupin sucks.

And right now, as she climbed the stairs for the chemistry class, seeing Potter was the last straw on her hat.

As soon as their glares met (if it would have been a movie, some window must have shattered with the intensity of their glare), they both started racing up the five flights of stairs, three steps a time, apparently due to some reason even they didn't know.

“I’m telling you, just stop! Don’t follow me!”

“Follow? You?” He seethed back. “Maybe you should stop! Just stop running!”

No matter what happened in those five minutes, they didn’t stop unless they were standing (more like slouching) in front of the chemistry class, panting heavily and trying to avoid the amused looks of their classmates.

“Yes?” Y/n mentally groaned at the flick of black robes as Professor Snape stood in front of them. “You both are late.”

So there were no surprises when they both sat at the back of the class, not to mention, together.

“You know?” Y/n tried to ignore him whispering beside her as she continued to vigorously pen down the notes. “I’ve the keys to the roof of the Chem building...and you look like you need somewhere to-” Her eyes dilated as she slammed her hand onto his mouth, nearly knocking him off his chair.

“Honestly, shut up. Or I'll leave your goddamn chair and you bloody fall down.”

And again they were interrupted by the Professor’s glare and a smooth remark of ‘Get out the class.’

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

“Your friends are suing my friends over their good looks-”

“No, please wait,” Y/n held up her free hand, the other still latching onto the door. “ It’s more like your friends are suing my friends over their good looks, and wow, I didn’t know I had to be stuck up with you tonight for completing that shit, well...hello there.”

This time, she eyed him intently, the black sweats did make him look good. Ignoring the weird palpitations that were going straight into her brain, she closed the door behind him.

“Don’t risk sitting here. We can do it in my bedroom?”

“And why’s that?”

“Drunk Hermione and Ginny are dangerous.”

So that was it.

As she sat on the corner of her bed, politely leaving him the other corner of the room (where he had to sit on the floor), furious typing followed, with occasional comments on the sentence structure.

“Your headphones are really loud!” Y/n shouted at him. “Like I can make out Mendes’ lyrics and I’m legit sitting across the fucking room!”

He looked at her oddly. Was it true they were loud? Should he lower them?

But on the second thought, he decided, fuck her.

After five minutes of silence, he gasped unexpectedly, garnering her attention.

“What?”

“You work for the campus radio station, don’t you?”

“Yeah-”

“And you are the one who passively and aggressively keeps dedicating songs to me!”

“That’s not true!”

“Wait-” he scrunched his nose at her bashful expression. “Is that a smile?”

He smiled as he heard her walk away with a small shout of “if you tell anyone about this, I’m fucking killing you!”

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

Just an hour before they were supposed to be submitting the file, yet, all thanks to their sudden literary genius brains, every sentence had become a battlefield.

“That’s wrong.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Just telling.”

As a notification flashed over his screen, he deleted another full paragraph of her, because hey, she deleted his sentence.

“No, no, no!” She kicked him on the shin as he simpered. “You fucking cheat!”

“Oh really?” She saw him leaning intensely on the table, and decided to grab that so-called intimidating position. “You cheated first!”

“No, seriously, I want to bloody throw this laptop on your face, but I decided that you aren’t worth it.”

As she moved back, breathing heavily, he followed, his glare prominent over her. And then, it all clicked him.

“You are a genius, aren’t you? So tell me, Y/n L/n, what have you even known about attraction.”

“Oh, Newton, I have got this,” she clicked her finger challengingly. “When attracted to someone, your eyes dilate. Psychology says that bodies sweat more and move in sync, due to mirroring habits people have when they are high on endorphins. Dopamine levels rise as well as serotonin. Dopamine helps regulate movement, attention, learning, and emotional responses. It also enables us not only to see rewards but to take action to move toward them. Since dopamine contributes to feelings of pleasure and satisfaction as part of the reward system. It also plays a part in addiction. Serotonin in the brain is thought to regulate anxiety, happiness, and mood. The more you have the better your mood. It was also seen that the putamen and the insula light up on an MRI. Indicating that the studied person is experiencing feelings of romantic love, or attraction.”

She ended triumphantly, totally out of breath. “Oh wait, did I add holding deep gazes and increased body temperature? Yeah, fucking take it.”

Potter just smirked in response, and of course, seeing this weird retortment, Y/n couldn’t help but wipe her temple of a stray drop of sweat.

What he wanted, honestly?

“Do you notice? I think the bloody hell not.”

“Notice what?”

“Your eyes are dilated- every fucking time you argue with me. You did sweat, don’t think I don’t see what you do, and your body moves in sync for whatever reasons you stated. And oh, wait” he mimicked the last part as he shut the laptop, leaning extremely close to her. “Have you never held deep gazes with me? So let me know, Y/n L/n, do you really hate me or has this been attraction this whole time?”

For the next two minutes, everything remained still. As his hot breath continued fanning over her, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Was she an absolute tosser this whole time?

The whole world felt like shattering at their feet as she captured his lips in a kiss. He groaned, pushing her into the wall, as her teeth dug into his lips.

Maybe, it had been attraction this whole time.

By the time his lips attacked her neck for the second time, her eyes had snapped open, pushing him back.

“Fucking hell, Harry, the project!”

“Alright, everyone in their places!” Lupin chimed behind McGonagall who strolled to collect the projects. Everyone seemed to be in their seats, except- oh, the pain in ass pair.

Idly walking, he reached the last row and stood near Ginny.

“Where are those two? Didn't kill each other for sure?”

Ginny looked up with a small laugh. “No, but you might want to sit down to listen. Five minutes before the class started, Harry picked up Y/n and ran out of the campus- no, Y/n was kissing him.”

To Ginny’s utter astonishment, Lupin had swooned there.

[drawlfoy]

detention, retention, and draco malfoy being a little shit

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no not really

summary: golden trio friend y/n y/l/n tries to extract information out of draco malfoy after being placed in detention together.

warnings: swearing, panic attack kinda stuff, just the dark war things that would come w having the task that draco does

a/n: ayo so i started this as a fic i was originally planning on writing in a week. i discontinued it bc i didn’t think anyone was that interested, but i’ve written for it on and off. it’s about 16k words right now standing, but i’m reposting this as a 2 part series. here are the first ~12k words....enjoy :) IMPORTANT: if you’re like “hey i started reading this in october why tf are you reposting the first two parts” just keep reading ok lmao i promise there’s more there’s about through part 6 in here hehe. i just wanted new readers to be able to pick up on it without being turned off by the fact that it was part 3. this will b e 2 parts and at least 20k words

word count: 11.6k

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

happy reading y’all

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

~ 

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from that foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy. 

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you here for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

~

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Hufflepuff--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re all witnessing our nation’s descent into war--he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

The plan they laid out over the remainder of the day was ambitious but at least do-able. Each week was split into different subtasks, the end goal being a somewhat tentative friendship between the two. 

“If you can flirt with him and get him to have a crush on you without scaring him off, you’d be in the best possible position,” Hermione told her as they walked back from the Quidditch pitch among the screaming Gryffindor fans. They’d won--yet again. “Obviously I don’t foresee that being likely, but if you pull it off somehow he’d probably be willing to tell you anything. The fact that you’re a pureblood is going to carry you through this whole ordeal. He’ll at least be accepting of your existence in the wizarding community.”

The bitter edge in Hermione’s tone made Y/N’s blood boil. There was no reason for Malfoy to be as prejudiced as he was--he’d spent his adolescence in Hermione’s academic dust. She was obviously smarter than him. 

“You got it, ‘Mione,” she said. Her voice barely carried over the cheers of her peers as they ascended the steps to the common room. “We’ll take this little ferret down. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t get too cocky, now.”

The Gryffindor after-party was crazy...per usual. The charmed self-filling goblets, the blasted playlist of Wizpop pumping through the air, and the buzzing energy of the room was giving Y/N a giant headache. She stood with Hermione and Harry by the edge of the crowd, watching Ron get hoisted up on the shoulders of the chasers. 

“No wonder the Slytherins think we’re Neanderthals,” Y/N mused. For once, Hermione didn’t respond. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”

The second she turned away to look at her best friend, gasps and whistles filled the room. She whipped back just in time to see Lavender Brown, a sweet but slightly ditzy girl in their year, pull away from a kiss with Ron.

“Oh shi--Hermione!”

Harry and Y/N shared a glance before darting after the witch--who had impressively already made it to the door. 

“Hermione, wait!” Y/N called as they jogged after her, throwing open the common room entrance and finding her sat by the tapestry on the other side of the hall, knees to her chest.

“‘Mione, what’s wrong?” asked Harry.

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said Y/N. “You saw exactly what the rest of us did.”

“I don’t understa--”

“Harry.” Her voice was taut. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think that it might be best if you let us be. Go back and enjoy the party.”

He gave her a tight, grateful smile before darting back through the door. Y/N wasted no more time in walking over to Hermione and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging her tight. Hermione made no move to detach them, so she continued. “Ron is an idiot. You deserve so much better--your first kiss was Viktor fucking Krum, after all. You’re hot stuff and this place is just unfortunately running dry of men who are impressive enough for you. Once you’re out of here and working in the Ministry, you’re gonna have the time of your life with men actually in your league.”

Hermione managed a sniffly laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing, you know. Like, I have a crush on him because I think he understands me and I smelled him in my Amortentia and I thought he’d like me back, but…” She hiccuped. “Then he goes off and kisses Lavender Brown, of all people. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her or anything, but she’s so different...I’m so bookish, and she’s so girly and everything I’m not…”

Y/N took the opportunity to tuck a lock of Hermione’s hair behind her ear as she listened.

“And it can’t help but make me think--was I ever anything to him but a friend? If the girl he ends up choosing is the opposite of me?”

“Girly, don’t think like that,” murmured Y/N. “He’s a teenage boy. They don’t think of love the way that we do--to them it’s a game of availability, not of choice. At least for Ronald. You intimidate him, and by extension, you’re not available.”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” Y/N drew a long breath. “So you should find someone who always has you as their first choice--someone who isn’t intimidated by your intellect. They’re out there. I promise.”

Hermione managed a shaky smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. Do you mind if I have some alone time? I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the party but I just want some quiet.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need me,” she said, brushing herself off and making to walk down the hall.

“You’re not going back to the party?”

“Nah. It hurts my head and I want fresh air. If I’m not back here in a half hour, assume that I’ve been kidnapped.”

With that, she started her walk. She wasn’t planning on going on a long stroll--there was a small balcony that she often went to when she needed to clear her head. It was beautiful, especially on a snowy night like this.

But the walk was creepy.

There was only one way in and out--a narrow, damp hallway that had absolutely no light fixtures. If Y/N really wanted to, she could cast a quick lumos, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what lived on the walls. The stairs were steep, too, but she managed to bound up all 40 of them in record time. 

“Who’s there?”

The sudden voice ripped a scream out of Y/N’s throat as she reached the top, catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure at the edge of the balcony that spoke. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she crept forward to the opening, getting a better look at the person that was in her secret spot.

The clouds shifted in the sky to allow more moonlight to cast a soft glow on Malfoy’s face, hardened with irritation.

“Malfoy?” Y/N asked, rather dumbly.

“What stellar observational skills,” he drawled. 

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “What are you doing here? This is part of the Gryffindor tower. Shouldn’t you be...I don’t know...playing hide and seek with the sewer rats in the dungeons?”

“Very funny.” His flat tone exposed the fact that he did not, in fact, find it very funny. “There’s no rule barring me from coming up here.”

“But why? This is my spot!”

“Because I wanted to get out. Now, I was here first, so unless you want your detention extended, I suggest you leave.”

Y/N bit the fiery comebacks on the tip of her tongue as the memories of her plan with Hermione began floating back to her. 

Week 1 -- Hold one neutral, civil conversation with Malfoy.

“I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here,” Y/N decided upon. leaning up against the balcony. The rogue snowflakes that made it past the overhanging roof melted on her cheeks. 

“That isn’t a suggestion,” said Malfoy. “I’m demanding you leave.”

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, pointedly ignoring his words. “I’ve always loved the snow. It’s so quiet.”

“And it would be even quieter if you left.”

“Aren’t you the conversationalist?” said Y/N.

“If you don’t leave, I will hex you,” Malfoy told her through gritted teeth. 

“I just love how the moonlight reflects off of the snow,” continued Y/N. “It’s so...pure.”

“Please leave.”

On her walk back down the dank stairwell, she allowed herself a little smile. 

Task 1? Technically done.

~ 

The first week went largely as planned. Malfoy was cold and certainly suspicious of her, but he wasn’t completely venomous when Y/N asked where he got his quill from in Potions. It was silver, charmed to shimmer with flecks of forest green. He told her Barnaby’s in France, and that was that. She walked away from his table with all of her limbs attached. Perhaps that was all the progress she was going to make in the next few weeks, but the task at hand certainly made the prospect of her lost Friday afternoons more bearable. 

Harry was going completely batty, rambling on about how Malfoy was behind the mysterious cursed objects that had been floating about the castle without explanation. 

“And why would Malfoy bring cursed objects to Hogwarts if he has aspirations other than being expelled?” Hermione would ask over their books.

“You don’t understand, Hermione! You girls need to be careful walking around at night--especially you, Y/N. I don’t want you going missing after detention because of that slimeball.”

Y/N always gave him a laugh, berating him for his slight misogynistic commentary and turning back to whatever her task was, but the truth was that she was worried for him. The mental weight of the impending war and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was certainly getting too difficult for him to bear. It was heartbreaking to see the vivacious boy she’d grown up with crumble under the responsibilities of something he should never have to worry about in the first place.

Friday came much sooner than expected, and Y/N reluctantly left her friends in the common room to trek to McGonagall’s office. The walk was frigid and the wind bit at her cheeks as she rounded the last outdoor hall.

Why was this castle so dark?

A thump behind her made her jump, and Harry’s words came floating back to her. 

Remember all those cursed objects? What if there’s someone just...stalking the school grounds, waiting for someone like me to snatch?

She shivered, throwing herself at the office door and slamming it behind her.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall greeted, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Something giving you trouble?”

“No, Professor,” she answered, setting her bag down on the desk next to Malfoy. He sent her a curious look as well. “It’s just cold outside.”

She chuckled. “I need to go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore. I expect that, upon my return, you both are in one piece and alive.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the one who needs to be given that speech,” said Y/N, bored and testing the waters.

“She’s right, Professor,” added Malfoy. “There’s no projectiles here.”

McGonagall exhaled a long, shaky breath before brushing herself off. “Please. Behave yourselves.”

“You got it, boss,” she said as she watched her Professor walk out the door. “So, Malfoy. How was your week?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’d way prefer if you didn’t speak to me,” he said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m not up to anything! We’re in detention together and, I dunno, since I see you sometimes at balls, I thought it’d be nice to be on good terms.”

“Good terms?” He scoffed. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’d rather you be a bloody Hufflepuff.”

“How about neutral terms?”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. “If neutral terms mean you being quiet, then, yes. Please.”

“I’ll be plenty quiet. After I hear about your opinion on what happened in Potions today with Brown and Weasley. When Snape yelled at them for holding hands.”

He let out a sharp sigh. “Believe it or not, I actually have better things to do than keep up with whatever stuff your house does.”

“But…?” Y/N pressed. She may not’ve spent her time at Hogwarts as Malfoy’s best friend, but she had grown up with the boy, and she could tell when he was holding back.

He stared blankly at her.

“Come on. I’m literally the only person in my house who’ll openly admit that they’re disgusted by that dynamic. I’m begging you.”

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement dance across his face for a moment. “Your house sounds more like a cult than a student group.”

“Oh, says the one from Slytherin,” said Y/N. 

“We only act like that because our families are close. What’s your excuse? Hormones and Quidditch culture?”

“Touché.” As much as she wanted to fight back, she bit her tongue. Whatever she was doing was making progress, and quicker progress than she was expecting. Her next task was to make him laugh, and she was emboldened by the fact that she could potentially be able to kill two birds with one stone. 

They sat in silence for a little bit, but this time, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy wasn’t staring at the clock on the wall or rolling his eyes at her every move, so she had time to plot.

On one hand, she could make a fool of herself--drop her inkwell, say something stupid in class, fall down the stairs--but she had a sneaking suspicion that her sorry attempts at slapstick humor wouldn’t land well with Draco anymore. He’d become so serious lately, so solemn. This was the most light hearted she’d seen him, even compared with how he acted with the rest of his Slytherin lackeys. 

On the other, she could try to sell out her friends. She could confide in him how “big” Hermione’s teeth were (they weren’t even big) or tell him that Ron smelled of eggs (true, but that was a low blow). Something told her that this would be much more successful, but she wasn’t willing to turn to that so quickly--she was already a week ahead as it was. 

“What is it?” 

Malfoy’s bored drawl cut through her flurried thoughts. Her cheeks turned pink as she blinked, noticing that she’d been staring at him for far too long. “Nothing. Sorry. I just spaced out.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, giving her another suspicious look before turning back to his work. “Can you maybe space out somewhere other than my face?”

“Where’s your vanity, Malfoy?” she pressed as she leaned back in her chair, hair swinging over the back. 

“Shut up,” he snapped. She could tell that whatever connection they’d had in the fleeting moments beforehand was being burnt by the second, but her embarrassment and pride drove her forward.

“Merlin, what’s got you so wound up?” she prompted, noting how deliciously unraveled he looked at this. “Where’s my cool, collected Slytherin?”

He slammed hands on his desk at this, whipping around to glare at her. “What’s your angle, Y/L/N?”

“What?”

“Why are you bothering me?”

“Because I want to.” She beamed.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up the usual neat manner in which it normally laid on his head. “Compelling. What do you want from me?”

“What do I want…?” She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“You never talk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I prefer it like that. I can’t help but wonder why suddenly you want to be making small talk. So, what is it you want from me?”

“Malfoy,” she said. “I think you’re a spoiled prick who thinks far too highly of himself and drives me insane. But I also think that you’re funnier than what my friends give you credit for. Granted, you’ve always been annoying, but I don’t want anything from you. I just want to, I dunno, make these next few months less insufferable.” Somehow the lie slipped through her teeth easier than any of her previous bluffs. 

He frowned, his mouth opening once before firmly screwing shut into a scowl. “Oh.”

“No offense, Malfoy, but what else can you offer me other than your dazzling personality?” she teased. “You know my family. I don’t need to blackmail you to pay for jewelry I’ve had my eye on or anything.”

He scoffed. “As if I’d say yes.”

“Exactly my point. It’d be fucking weird. Merlin, I’m not trying to butter you up to buy out Borgin & Burkes for me. Do I give off gold-digger vibes? Is that what this is about?”

“Fucking hell.” Malfoy turned to her in disbelief. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Answer my question. Or better yet, pull out your wallet. Wait, did I say that out loud?” She mimed surprise and covered her mouth. “Oh no! What will my mother say now that I’ve squandered my last chance of hitching you? There’s no way I can go home for Christmas break now.”

He rolled his eyes so hard she found herself worried for a moment that they were going to just permanently get stuck in the back of his head. “Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t really have a shot to begin with.”

Ouch.

She huffed and dramatically flopped over the back of her chair, hoping he couldn’t see that she’d flinched. “So you don’t think I’m pretty??” 

“Y/L/N,” he snapped, his voice a low warning. “Can I please just work? What is with you today?”

Y/N sent him a sour look before giving her Charms work another look. Malfoy was awfully quiet, and when she snuck any glances at him later on, he was angled to face away from her. 

Why did she feel like such shit all of a sudden? She cataloged the past events, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that her stomach dropped. It all made sense when the words “You didn’t really have a shot to begin with” echoed around her head once again. She’d failed Harry. She’d failed Hermione. There was no way that she was going to be able to get him to reveal his secrets now--it’s not like he was confiding in even his closest friends as Harry made apparent when he explained how vague his statements were to his fellow Slytherins on the train. Her only chance would’ve been to somehow get him to fall for her, and that wasn’t going...great. And it had been a pipedream to begin with.

When McGonagall swished back into the classroom to dismiss them, Y/N shot out of there without even looking at Malfoy again. It felt like something was lodged in her throat and she was not going to cry in front of him. No, no. She had to make it to Hermione to tell her what was going on. 

“Y/L/N?” 

Malfoy’s voice made her pause in her flee as she nearly rounded the corner in front of her, but she refused to look back. It was far enough away that it was possible she didn’t hear him.

“Wait!”

She was up the stairs and speed walking as fast as her legs could carry her to the Gryffindor tower before he even saw which way she went.

~

“I don’t think you understand,” Y/N wailed by the fire as Hermione rubbed her shoulders and Harry sat awkwardly perched on the couch. “I can’t do this. The only way this was going to work was if he had a crush on me, and I don’t think he ever will. I fucked it up! The one time you guys need me, I fuck it up! I let you down!”

Hermione’s left hand stopped its rubbing to rest firmly on her shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. You didn’t let us down. Plus, you’re only, what...two weeks in? You don’t need him to like you to make it work. Just getting him to trust you will be enough, and you’re good at that.”

“I don’t think so,” continued Y/N. “Harry said that he wasn’t even that open on the train when he overheard him talking to all of his friends. And those are purebloods that he likes! That he’s trusted and known for years and years! I’m a friend of you guys, and he knows it. I think he’d figure it out quick.”

“We should take every chance we can get,” said Harry from his spot a few feet away, his eyes lazy and unfocused on the fire crackling in front of them. “You won’t let us down if you can’t get anything, Y/N, you know that! But if you got anything from him, it’d be incredible. It’s a win-win. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said, her tone becoming defensive. “I just...don’t want to mess this up. I know how much it’d mean if I succeeded.”

“So just try!” Hermione said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sorry he was kind of mean to you today, but I don’t think that should bother you too much. He should be more afraid of what you’d say if you didn’t care about being a good person.”

“Fucking right on there,” she said, wiping away the frustrated tears. “If I was honest with him, he’d leave crying. He should be grateful that I’m taking this bet so I actually have to be nice to him.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry leaned over to smack her back like he did his Quidditch teammates after a winning match. 

After they’d parted their ways with Harry, Hermione and Y/N made their way slowly up the stairwell to the girls’ dorms. 

“Y/N?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think, er…” She paused. “Do you think you were really upset about failing us today? Or was it something else?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t see what else it would be.”

“I’m sorry,” responded the bright witch. “Forget I ever asked. It was a stupid thing to wonder about.”

“Weirdo,” she teased as she waved her a goodnight and made her way to her dorm.

The next morning, Y/N busied herself with revising her Charms essay over her breakfast--a cup of tea and a half-buttered piece of toast--while Hermione leaned over her shoulder, nodding or grimacing at the corrections she made. 

“Did you work during detention? Like, at all?”

“‘Mione,” moaned Y/N. “It’s too early for this. I don’t want a lecture. I just couldn’t focus.”

Her warm brown eyes narrowed as they bore into Y/N’s face. “Why were you distracted?”

“Oh, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words as Hermione drew closer. “Merlin, Hermione. I told you last night. I just felt like I was letting you all down.”

“Mhm,” was all she got in response before her best friend tilted her head back down to the parchment in front of her. 

Y/N sat, completely puzzled. What was Hermione on about? She’d been straightforward with what was hurting her--she didn’t want to mess up the only task the Golden Trio had ever given her--and, even if she hadn’t been, Hermione was smart enough to deduce things for herself. So what was she thinking about?

Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where the usual 6th year pureblood gang loitered about, drinking black coffee and sulking--but Malfoy was not to be seen. She jumped when her eyes met Parkinson, her dark eyes burning into her soul as a deep scowl was written across her face.

“Malfoy, what the fuck do you want?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to reality to see him glaring somewhere behind her.

“I wasn’t here to talk to you,” a familiar voice drawled. 

She turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, a sneer written all across his stupidly pretty face.

“Miss me already?” asked Y/N as she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. 

“For fuck’s sake, stop doing that,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket and throwing a box at her. “You forgot your quill. I took the liberty of properly storing it, because it seems like you lot like to just throw them in your bag. Makes me physically ill to watch.”

“Oh.” Y/N studied the intricate box in her hands before tucking it away in her knapsack. “Thanks? I guess?”

He nodded curtly, contorting his face into one last scowl to send to Ron before turning and leaving,

“So,” Hermione began, cutting her omelet at a much brisker pace, “I think we need to have a little chat. About...all of this.” 

“Why?” 

“Not right now,” she said, her voice low and her eyes flicking at Ron and Harry sitting across from them. “I don’t think it’d benefit us for them to hear.” 

“Ok?” She cautiously took a bite out of her toast and continued staring Hermione down. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s...I don’t know. I thought I was crazy for thinking this, but it seems like we need to talk about it anyways. For this little mission of yours to work, we need to be totally open and honest with each other.”

“Sure.” Y/N took another bite. “I honestly have no clue what’s got you so on edge, though.”

“Who’s on edge?” Harry asked, leaning over the table and stealing the croissant on Y/N’s plate. 

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Do you not see the entire plate of them over there?”

He laughed, sending her an easy grin and dunking a piece into the hot chocolate in his mug. “Finders keepers. Say, Y/N, are you busy next weekend? Ron and Lavender are going to Madame Puddingfoot’s together, and I know Hermione isn’t going to want to take a weekend off studying to go to Hogsmeade, so I thought that maybe we could go cause some trouble at the Cauldron.”

“If you stop stealing my food we can talk about it,” replied Y/N, the corners of her lips tugging up into a grin. 

“Deal.”

Hermione tugged at her arm. “I just realized I need to get something out of my room before we watch the Quidditch game. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

“Sure!” said Y/N. “Gee, I’m rolling in invitations today.”

Once they exited the dining hall, though, it immediately became evident that they were not actually heading up to the dorms. Hermione dragged her into the nearest bathroom before casting a quick silencing charm.

“Myrtle! Are you in here?” Only when she was sure silence was the only response to her question, she seemed satisfied to turn to Y/N and begin talking. “When were you going to tell me that you have a thing for Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N felt the heat that had risen to her cheeks from the last quill-encounter re-emerge.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. “Are you seriously going to expect me to believe that you nearly sobbed over some random pureblood git telling you you never had a chance with him because it might slow down your progress with helping us? Actually? I’ve seen you look more ecstatic about hearing that your dear granny passed away.”

“To be fair, she had really good life insurance,” Y/N cut in. “And she was an old hag. Never had a nice thing to say to me.”

“Life insurance or no life insurance...you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you were just upset about not being able to help us as much. That was ridiculous. I don’t buy it. And the way you blushed like crazy when he came over to talk to you--the way you try and pretend like you can flirt...please. Y/N, it’s clear as day. I know you, and I know you have a crush on him.”

“Hermione!” hissed Y/N. “You have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, I think I do,” she pushed. “And you need to be honest with me if you want to be of any help right now.”

Her bossiness lit a fire of rage in Y/N’s chest, but she sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes before releasing it. “Believe me when I say I haven’t ever acknowledged any feelings I may or may not have towards him.”

“Ok.” Her face softened. “I know it might take time, but I honestly do think I’m right. Please just...be careful. This is a really odd situation to get caught up in if you actually have feelings for the other person. You’re trying to manipulate him, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And if I have these feelings for him, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of suppressing them for however long they’ve been here.” 

Hermione sighed. “That’s true. I’m just saying that spending this much time with him is probably only going to make things worse. Will you please tell me if anything changes between the two of you?”

“Anything changes?” Y/N’s voice was dripping in disbelief. “You’re joking. Even if I was obsessed with him I don’t think there’s ever a chance of hell in anything ‘changing’ between us. He said it himself.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N,” responded Hermione. “Just promise me, ok?”

“Ok,” said Y/N. “I promise.”

That seemed to satiate Hermione as she nodded approvingly at her friend. “I think it goes without saying that Ron and Harry shouldn’t hear about this.”

“There’s nothing to hear about, but yes.” She shuffled her feet before meeting Hermione’s eyes again. “Er, I’m sorry for this being a weird question, but would you mind coming along with me and Harry to Hogsmeade? I don’t really see him like...that...and I don’t want to read into it too much and reject him if he is doing it just platonically, but just in case. Y’know.”

“Sure,” said Hermione, even though her face took on that curious expression yet again. “Anyways, you actually did forget something--you’re not wearing a single piece of Gryffindor colors for our game today. You should probably run back to your dorm before Harry and Ron notice.”

After they said their goodbyes, Y/N found herself turning over the things Hermione had said to her in her head. Did she like Malfoy? No, no fucking way. But a part of her really did think he was funny. And of course it was natural to feel rejected when anyone insinuates that they’d never consider you as a romantic interest without jest. 

Once she’d made it up to her room and grabbed a few scarves, Y/N made to put her red cloak into her satchel. Her fingers ghosted over the box that Malfoy had given her and scoffed once she saw the Malfoy crest engraved into the rich wood. 

Narcissistic snot.

Her curiosity got the better of her as she reached over to open up the elaborately decorated box. What met her was not just one quill but two--one of which was most certainly not her own. 

She took them both out, tossing the old one in a pile with her other trusty familiar white feather quills and picked up the other one. It looked familiar--identical to the quill that she’d complimented Malfoy on in Potions about a week ago. Butterflies began to flutter like crazy in her stomach as she turned it over in her hand, watching the gray and green glitter together and the magic sparkles cast a gentle light over her bed. She generally avoided dipping into her family’s pockets to get school supplies any more than she had to--it’s not like it made her friends feel good about themselves when they were reminded how rich her family was--but this might be what she could consider to be an exception. She hadn’t even liked his quill all that much when she first saw it in Potions--but it was one of those things that was so noticeable that it made sense to compliment him. 

She gave it one last look before tucking it back away into the elaborately decorated box. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when she’d told Hermione all hope was lost. 

~ 

When Monday morning Potions class with the Slytherins rolled around, Y/N wasted no time. Malfoy was alone--even his Slytherin lackeys seemed to know not to bother him. Just what she needed.

“Malfoy,” she greeted, setting her bag down on his table and looking him dead on. He raised to meet her eyes, his eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?”

“I just wanted you to know that I also really like your immense fortune,” she said. “And your manor.”

“Well, a lot of people do,” he mumbled as he looked away to dig through something in his bag. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was blushing.

“I’m just letting you know,” she continued. “In case you were wanting to give them away. It worked for the quill, so I thought, well, why not?”

He exhaled, a deep and annoyed sound escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I was getting sick of it,” he told her. “I never can stick with one quill for too long, and I thought it’d be a shame to toss it. I thought it’d be better to be charitable--it’s not like your family could get an appointment at Barnaby’s if they tried.”

“Hey!” Y/N said indignantly. “You don’t know that!”

“I’ve heard your parents try to speak French,” he said. “If you’re anything like them, you'll be barred from ever entering the country.”

“Malfoy!” 

His lips turned up into a smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips. Y/N suppressed the urge to grin in return. Task 3? Done. “What?”

“I can’t even argue with you,” she said. “It’s tragic.”

She stared at the empty stool next to him, wondering if she should just take the leap and sit with him. Malfoy seemed unbothered by her presence as he opened up his Potions book and set it next to his cauldron. “Do you want a partner?” The words left her lips before she could stop them.

He cast her a curious look before glancing at the empty stool. “It depends. Are you going to be annoying?”

She gasped in faux-offense. “What makes you think I could ever be annoying?”

“On that note, I think you better get back to Potter.” He motioned with his head towards the side of the room where most of her Gryffindor friends were chatting. Harry was staring at her, his fists clenched by his side.

Y/N smirked and sent him a wink. 

“On that note,” she said, careful to imitate Malfoy’s drawl and sending him a smug grin, “Maybe I better sit here.”

“Hm.” He awarded her one more uninterested look before rolling up his sleeves and setting out the ingredients for the potion they were brewing--Amortentia. 

She tried not to make it too obvious that she was staring at his left arm, but there was nothing on it like Harry had told her. It was just pure, unblemished pale skin that shimmered under the light. Before he could catch her looking, she quickly sat down and started pulling out her own things. After a short pause, she decided to take out the silver quill. She’d left his box back in her room--she wouldn’t be caught dead with something that had the Malfoy crest on it--but she’d wrapped it in a pouch with her own family’s emblem on the front, shimmering in gold and red.

“Why don’t you just buy your own charmed quills?” asked Malfoy after they had chopped all of the gillweed. 

“You already know. We’re an abomination to the French. We aren’t allowed entry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His tone was meant to read as exasperated, but his words still seemed good-natured.

“I...well.” She frowned. She’d never confessed this to anyone, but she supposed that Malfoy wasn’t going to find a way to use it against her. “I don’t like to flaunt my family wealth. I think it makes people, at least in Gryffindor, like me less. I learned that pretty early on.”

He hummed something in response before sliding all the gillweed into the cauldron, turning the clear liquid into a bubbling forest green. 

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked. 

He took his time finishing the note he was jotting down before he answered. “I’m not being nice. It’s just called being civil. You said it yourself, we see each other at balls sometimes.”

“We probably won’t anymore, though,” she mused. 

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained low and steady. “No. I suppose that we probably won’t. Is your family part of the Order?”

“Hm. Are you a Death Eater?” she asked brazenly. He had no business asking her something like that, and he knew it. Especially not with his family connections.

“What do you think?” he drawled, waving his bared left arm in front of her face.

“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything after we learned Glamour spells last year.”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” he responded, focusing intently on the bubbling liquid in front of him instead of her face. 

“I guess so,” she replied. The weight of her Glamour comment began to sink in--she was right, after all. How had she not thought of it before? 

But he was right when he told her she just had to trust him. Could she? Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her propped hand as she watched him work. A piece of disobedient moonbeam blonde hair dangled over his forehead as he diced up the unicorn tail, his eyebrows furrowed in focus.

“Is this why you want to be my partner?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “So you can just stare at me while I do all the work?”

“There’s the vain Draco I know,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to punch his shoulder. 

He rolled his eyes again, scooting out of arm's reach before flipping back to Amortentia in his book. “You’re insufferable. And it’s Malfoy to you.”

“Fine, fine, Malfoy,” said Y/N. “What do you want me to do, then?”

He shoved his cutting board towards her, the half-diced unicorn tail staring up at her. “Finish dicing this and then stir it in. 9 times clockwise. I did almost all of the work, but it should be finished after that.”

Y/N sent him another glare before doing as he said. The glittering quill kept catching her attention from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy was writing with just a plain white quill for the time being. HE really did just give it to me. 

After the final ingredients were diced, she began to stir, each rotation around the cauldron turning the potion to a different color. It began as the bubbling green, then a deep sea blue, then a royal purple, a crimson blood red, a glimmering gold--before settling into a pale silver.

“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s like...liquid starlight.”

“All thanks to me,” said Malfoy. “You didn’t even have to crush the Mandrake root.”

“You’re such a gentleman, Malfoy.” Her voice dripped in fake sincerity. “So, what do you smell?”

Y/N was expecting him to scowl at her and tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, but he actually leaned over the cauldron and shut his eyes. 

“I’ve never been good at explaining what things smell like.” 

“Fair.”

Once he leaned back, she took his place, shutting her eyes and breathing in a tendril of the beautiful potion. “Whoa.”

“What’s it for you?”

“I don’t...know,” she admitted. “It’s not something I can describe note by note. It kind of reminds me of something, though.”

“Something with Potter, I presume?” he said, casually twirling his generic white quill around his fingers.

“No,” she answered, surprised at how honest she was being. “It’s…I’m trying to think. Er, it’s very lavish. It reminds me of when I was younger and my parents would drag me to galas and balls and whatnot.” 

He stared at her in silence.

“What about you? Does it remind you of anything?”

“Yeah.” Malfoy reached forward to put a lid on the cauldron, effectively shutting out the steam from reaching either of them.

“Ooh, have you figured it out yet?” she teased, crossing her legs and turning to face him head on. “Let me guess. Is it someone like…”

She paused, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Oh my god, is it Hermione? Or Luna? Or...help me out here!”

“No.” His voice was sour. 

“Ah, it’s Parkinson then, isn’t it? Tell her I’m sorry for throwing food at her if you ever have the chance. Make sure to add the part where I’m more sorry that I missed.” 

“Y/L/N!”

“It’s okay. I’d be a little let down, too.”

“Can you please just…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop. I haven’t figured it out. Okay? Happy now?”

“I’ll leave you alone,” said Y/N. “Under one condition. You give me a hint. I’ve given you everything I know! This isn’t fair.”

“This doesn’t have to be fair,” he hissed.

Y/N kept the easy smile plastered on her face while she waited, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“You’re not going to let up until I tell you, are you?”

“You’d be right on that,” she said, sugary sweet.

“Fine. It’s something kind of floral.” 

“How descriptive,” she snorted as she slumped back in her stool, thinking hard. Where had she smelled it before? Y/N shut her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to immerse herself into the memory that had surfaced. It smelled like grandeur, like an open ballroom full of guests wearing expensive perfumes. She could feel spinning, spinning like she was with a dance partner. Who was it? She couldn’t quite remember--the last ball she’d been to had been years ago--but after she leaned forward and smelled the Amortentia once more time, she came to a conclusion.

“I had to have danced with him at a gala before,” she announced to Malfoy, who was looking quite unimpressed. “So I know it’s no one from Gryffindor.”

“Interesting,” was all he said before turning to his parchment and jotting something down.

Late that night, while Y/N was settling into bed, a strange idea struck her. Sure that the thought that was nagging her was completely fruitless, she had no trouble with reaching into her desk and pulling out the Malfoy box. She just had to check if she wanted to sleep well.

Here goes.

She closed her eyes, imagining the expensive scent of her Amortentia. Then she opened it, stuck her nose into the fabric, and breathed in.

Well, fuck. 

~

The internal debate going through Y/N the next day at the breakfast table was intense. On one hand, she really, really wanted to just tell Hermione that Malfoy had been in her Amortentia and she was completely fucked, but on the other…

She glanced at the witch next to her as she methodically sliced her toast into perfect, equivalent squares before dunking them in jam. Y/N liking Malfoy was not going to fit into her toast cubes. If she said anything, she would lose her excuse to talk to her about him. And her excuse to try and get close with him. 

Perhaps I can figure it out tomorrow. 

When tomorrow came, she still hadn’t made progress. Y/N was beginning to think that her so called “revelation” after they brewed Amortentia was truly just complete and utter bullshit. So what that his quill box smelled like it--all rich people kind of smelled the same at some points, and so did their houses. There was a reason why she couldn’t immediately pin the scent to anything--it wasn’t like she even knew what Malfoy smelled like.

But the truth remained that she was still attracted to someone who happened to be a rich Slytherin--so naturally, her mind began to wander. There’s no way it was Zabini--his mother owned a fragrance line, and she would’ve instantly recognized the cologne that she knew Mrs. Zabini made him wear--and there was absolutely no way that it was Crabbe or Goyle, so the only other Slytherin it left was...Nott? But that didn’t make sense either--she’d never spoken to him before in her life, even less than Malfoy. So perhaps it would be better if she didn’t think on it.

The next day of potion brewing came on a stormy Wednesday. Malfoy and Y/N worked silently together to brew a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. She was surprised to see how practiced his movements were--he didn’t even have to reference the book to recite the exact measurements and directions.

“Do you have bad dreams or something?” she asked, mostly as a joke. He didn’t seem to pick up on the light-heartedness and stiffened up.

“No?”

“Gee, you’re talkative today,” Y/N said, trying to ignore how her hand brushed his by accident when she added the scoop of anjelica. 

“Excuse me for not entertaining you,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting to have such a needy potions partner today.”

“I am not needy!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I’ve sat in silence for a full hour!”

He rolled his eyes (he was always rolling his eyes) and gave the potion one more final stir before setting the lid on the cauldron. “Think you can do that again? It needs to simmer for that long.”

“Just because you’re so sweet to me,” crooned Y/N before pulling out a heavy book from her satchel. Her Charms exam was tomorrow, and, naturally, she had decided to save all of her revising work until the night before. The textbook stared back at her as she jotted a few notes onto a previously blank sheet of parchment. The quill in her hands was light and glided across the paper like the tears of Merlin, something that she had forgotten quills could do. All of her familiar basic quills were okay, but they were prone to skidding and breaking. This nib hadn’t worn down in the slightest, still at a smooth and defined peak.

Y/N couldn’t believe that, out of all people, the person to give her such a thoughtful gift was Draco Malfoy. She tried to sneak a glance at him then, moving her curtain of hair away from her face. It took all she had in her to not be startled at the fact that he was already looking back, a slightly concerned expression etched into his face.

“Is something wrong?” 

He snapped out of it the moment the words left her lips, his face hardening. “No.”

“Forget I ever asked,” she responded, turning away from him for good and focusing on her textbook. No, there was no way he could be what she smelled in her Amortentia. She liked to think that her subconscious wasn’t secretly a masochist.

~

Friday evening swung around again, much to Y/N’s dismay. She’d had a talk with Hermione later on in the week, confirming that no, she did not smell Malfoy in her Amortentia, and that yes, she was still abiding by the plan that Hermione had so carefully laid out for her. It did bother her a bit that she could be lying to her on both fronts--but at the end of the day, she was going to get the answers that Harry wanted, no matter what. 

She just had to get through the scary ass castle first. She’d forgotten how spooky Hogwarts was after her previous sprint to the door, and this time she was positively trembling by the time she turned another dark corner on her way to McGonagall’s office. Yet another cursed item had been found in the girl’s lavatory on the 3rd floor, right by some of the classes that she had taken earlier in the week. The fact that whoever was out there was capable of dark magic and actively wanted to hurt people terrified her, all that Gryffindor bravery be damned. 

So when she heard footsteps suddenly right beside her, it was no wonder that she jumped feet in the air.

“Fuck!” she sputtered, turning to see a very familiar blonde in Slytherin robes. He was frozen in place, curiously looking her up and down.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Malfoy,” Y/N said, resisting the urge to melt into a puddle of relief at the sight. This wasn’t right--wasn’t he a suspected Death Eater? “You scared me.”

He scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets. “You’re supposed to be the brave ones, right?”

“Huh?”

Malfoy motioned to her Gryffindor jumper. 

“Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he meant. “I dunno. I just get jumpy around the castle at night.”

“No shit.” They’d begun to walk now, side by side. Y/N couldn’t remember ever walking with him before--she’d always been late. “Do you think I forgot the way you screamed when you saw me at the tower?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching over and giving him a healthy shove. 

They walked in silence together. Malfoy moved noticeably slower than he normally did so he wouldn’t leave Y/N’s shorter legs in tow. McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see Malfoy hold the door open for her.

“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” she said, giving Y/N a hesitant nod before grabbing the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

After she exited the room with a swish of her deep maroon robes, Malfoy turned to her. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”

She turned, ready to send a biting retort his way, before she noticed how gray his pallor looked...and how big the circles under his eyes were. “You look like shit, Malfoy. Is everything okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh. Um…” Y/N pause before deciding that the little tidbit of information she was about to reveal wasn’t that important anyways. “I’m just on edge at night at Hogwarts is all. Especially with all that weird shit going on with all the cursed objects. So I kind of hate walking to and from detention.”

Malfoy let out something that sounded like a strained laugh.

“You didn’t answer my question. Is everything okay?”

“None of your business,” he snipped. “I just had a bad night.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, unable to keep herself from prying.

“Something like that.”

“Have you tried lavender?”

“I’m sorry?” He frowned.

“Lavender. Like the essential oil. It’s nothing magical,” she explained. “I just like to spray it in my bed sometimes before I sleep. Or I’ll use a few drops in a diffuser. I have trouble sleeping too, all the time, actually.” She shut her mouth before she had any chance to ramble further.

“It sounds a bit too floral for my taste.”

“Here.” Y/N dug around in her satchel, searching for the tiny spray bottle she kept with her at all times. “Borrow this and spritz your pillow with it before you sleep, and then tell me it’s too floral. I promise it helps.”

He glared at her. She extended her hand with the white bottle that was covered in purple decor, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “I won’t tell anyone that you have it if that’s what you’re worried about or whatever.”

“Fine,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand and dragging his fingers over her palm for just a second. “Don’t expect me to actually try it, though.”

“Just give it a sniff.” 

He huffed, but to her surprise, he actually uncapped the top and held the spray hole up to his nose, inhaling in once.

The effect was immediate. Malfoy’s face completely drained of color, becoming even grayer than he’d been when she first saw him under the light. The briefest expression of surprise fleeted over his face before he wiped it off, replacing it with something unreadable and tossing it back at her. “I’m not using this.”

“Why not?”

“Not quite my taste,” he spat.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden outburst, watching as he continued to glower at his desk. “I don’t understand. It really does help you sleep. I know it seems stupid, but I...really think you should try it. Just once, if anything.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I--” Y/N stopped herself before she let her mouth run without check. “I know what it’s like is all. I feel like shit if I don’t sleep. Plus, I have to spend time with you every Friday. I imagine that you’ll be slightly more tolerable if you sleep more.”

“Hm.” He sent her a particularly venomous glare. “Thanks for your concern. Consider me uninterested, though.”

“You break my heart,” she teased, pulling back her hand and placing the bottle on the corner of her desk. An idea struck her.

“And just what are you smiling about?” Draco said. His lips were turned into a sour frown. 

“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, her voice adopting a sing-song quality. All she had to do now was wait. 

He exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. Then he turned back to whatever was in front of him.

McGonagall entered the room a few minutes later, nodding cordially at the comfortable silence the two students were in. What she didn’t know was that Y/N was waiting, just waiting for Malfoy to dig through his satchel and stop paying attention to his quill.

She got her opportunity a few minutes later, when McGonagall called him up to look over his latest Transfiguration homework.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m happy to see that you’re taking more initiative in getting your assignments done...I have to say that you had me a bit concerned…”

While her professor kept Malfoy occupied, Y/N darted over and grabbed his quill. 

Ha.

Malfoy frowned down at his desk when he returned, giving Y/N a suspicious look.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she said, hoping her voice conveyed nothing that might hint that she took something of his.

“Nothing.”

“Hm.”

The rest of detention passed without any more discussion. Y/N was eager to run up to her dorm and set up her plan to be carried out the next morning, but she calmed her bouncing leg and forced herself to keep a straight face when McGonagall dismissed them.

“Got somewhere to be, Y/L/N?” Malfoy’s voice called after her as she sped down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower. 

“What’s it to you?” she fired back.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.

“Aren’t the Slytherin dorms the other direction?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Are they?” 

She allowed herself to be amused by the way words flowed out of his mouth when he was slightly out of breath. “Why are you walking with me?”

“You said it yourself.” He kept his eyes cast on the cobblestones below them. “You don’t like walking alone at night.”

“Uh...oh.” Against her will, her feet froze and she was glued to the ground. “You’re joking, right?”

If the lighting wasn’t so dim, Y/N would have good reason to believe he was blushing with how intently he was studying his fingernails. “By all means, I can be.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Er...I’d like you to. If you want to, that is.”

He shrugged, an elfish expression spreading across his face as he took in how nervous she was. “Well, come to think of it, you didn’t ask me to. I suppose I better get back to the Slytherin dorms anyways. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Gryffindor Tower right now.”

“Why?” she squeaked.

“Oh, you know, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the cursed things showed up on your side of the castle, yeah?”

She gulped.

“I gotta get going. Don’t want to stand around here too long. This place gives me the creeps.” With that, he turned and began walking away.

“Malfoy?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. “Consider this me asking you to walk with me.”

He slowly faced her, a sly grin plastered all over his face. “Oh? Did I hear that correctly? Do you want me to?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look intimidating. “Walk with me. Please.”

“I guess I’ll take it.” Malfoy glided down the hallway to her in just a couple steps, sending her yet another smug look.

“You made up that whole ordeal about Gryffindor Tower being targeted, didn’t you?” asked Y/N as they rounded the corner to reach the staircase leading up to the common room.

“You bought it, didn’t you?” 

“Who says I didn’t just want you to walk with me?” pushed Y/N. This was as close to flirting as it would ever get for her--but it looked like, somehow, things were falling into place. The heat in her cheeks must’ve been from the excitement of making progress. 

Malfoy’s toe caught on the first stair and, if it weren’t for Y/N’s steady grip on his arm, would’ve made him go sprawling across the stone steps. 

“Merlin, Malfoy,” she said, immediately dropping her grip from his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

He responded with an unceremonial snort and a withering glare. The rest of the walk was done in silence, and Y/N noted how careful his footwork became around the Gryffindor steps.

“This is me,” she finally said once they reached the tapestry for the Gryffindor dorms. He seemed surprised, and only then did it strike her that he’d probably never seen the entrance himself before. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”

“I live to serve,” he drawled.

And just like that, he was gone.

~

Her plan was simple. She had located an extra monogrammed pouch in her cabinet, a rich mahogany color with her family crest in a vivid gold, and placed both his quill and the lavender bottle. She would corner him after breakfast or follow him out of the Great Hall and show him then.

However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Malfoy was not coming to Saturday morning breakfast. Many people didn’t, but Y/N had never known him to miss it. His normal spot was vacant, and it certainly wasn’t a house-made decision as all of his Slytherin friends were present and accounted for. Y/N couldn’t say for sure, but she could see Parkinson turning her head to the entrance every time the doors thudded open before glancing back to Malfoy’s empty seat when it turned out to be someone else.

Where was that loser?

“Excuse me,” she said to the trio as she stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air. I have a bitch of a headache.”

Hermione and Harry expressed their sympathies while Ron gave her a characteristic mumble through his mouthful of bread, and she was off with the pouch secured in her cloak pocket.

It was a clear November morning, clearly Mother Nature’s attempt to slowly move the world from the crisp autumn to a cold winter. The sky was clear and the sun’s rays warmed her skin at a slanted angle, casting weak shadows across the courtyard.

If I were Malfoy, where would I go to sulk?

The obvious answer was either the Slytherin common room or his own dorm, but that was without a doubt out of question for her. She wasn’t even sure if she possessed the knowledge to guess which corridor the entrance was in, much less work out the password herself. Beyond that, just getting into the common room and waiting would be...She shivered. It would be a terrible idea while she was clearly wearing a cloak in Gryffindor red and gold trim. 

As she continued her aimless wander around the castle, she heard the slightest sound from the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. It wasn’t ever really in use--no one came in there to actually use the loo unless they wanted Myrtle to materialize and tell them her supernatural troubles while they were in the middle of their personal business--but it was often the source of strange happenings. 

Like the cursed objects she thought to herself, her nails digging into her palms. But did she care about that right now? Surely cursed objects seemed somewhat...suspicious. Dark magic was difficult to hide, and to a pureblood eye that grew up around magical objects, cursed things shouldn’t be impossible to spot. 

And, plus, it was Malfoy she was looking for. None of the students had died from the curses so far, and if she was able to break through and learn something, or at the very least gain his trust, the reward to the Order would be more than worth it.

She stepped in, expecting to see an entirely empty bathroom with perhaps a ghost rattling around at the sink. Instead, a different sight awaited her.

Draco Malfoy was clutching the edge of the cracked sink basin in front of him, rocking himself back and forth and shaking. From her vantage point, she could see that he was dressed in his normal garb--a black ensemble--but his hair was unruly and messy, sticking up in the back like he’d hurriedly tugged something over his head.

A strangled gasp grounded her and halted her curious observations. Malfoy began to make these awful sobbing sounds, like he could barely manage to breathe. 

Y/N was frozen in place as she surveyed her options. If she stayed and tried to talk to him, he might react in anger or hurt her. But if she just left him, like this, all alone...She swallowed once before stepping forward.

“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not, you bint said a voice deep in her brain. She pushed it aside as he swung around, his wand raised and his eyes blazing. “Whoa! I’m not going to...Put your wand down!”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror as he continued to shake, so much so that his wand slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Without thinking, Y/N reached into her pocket and flung her wand away, holding her hands up.

“I’m not going to try anything. I promise.”

As she drew closer, she could see the remnants of tears on his wet cheeks and the way that his silver eyes were rimmed with a bloodshot red. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice weak and cracking. 

“Neither should you. This is the girl’s bathroom.”

final a/n: ok so lmk if you guys wants me to continue. i really did not edit the last half fjkdsal;f also kinda made this an au where malfoy tried to assassinate dumbledore. with more than one cursed object but dw it’ll all make sense ill clear that up 😭

[softly-potter]

Milk & Honey

Summary: Recently widowed, Draco and Hermione give dating a try. 

Pairing: Draco X Hermione

Word Count: 4,201

Warning: none

A/N:  Inspired by the quote “I’ve had sex, she said. But I don’t know, What making love, Feels like” by Rupi Kaur.

Find Chapter 2 Here

-

Chapter 1

Hermione has almost forgotten how she landed a date with her ex-death eater coworker. She always knew Pansy Parkinson would be a thorn in her side, but she never knew the witch would be the ultimate matchmaker.

“What about Blaise?”

“No.”

“Adrian, maybe?”

“No.”

“How about Draco?”

“I don’t think Malfoy's dating.” Hermione sighs, placing her quill down in defeat as she glares up at Pansy, who is currently trying to get her back into the dating world.

“Oh come on,” Pansy sniffs, leaning against Hermione's desk. “You and Ron broke up years ago, and I’ve heard you admit the following two things; you and Ron are better off as friends, and Draco is ‘quite handsome’.” Pansy holds her hands up, making air quotes around the last two words. Hermione glances at the back of the blonde's head, his shoulders straight as he pours over documents.

Working at the ministry did have its perks, but being in such a close, constant proximity to the forever gossiping Pansy was not one of them. Pansy rolls her eyes, placing a manicured hand flat on the desk.

“He hasn’t dated anyone since Astoria, and based on previous experience, I know he can be a doll of a boyfriend. He just hasn’t…” Pansy pauses, glancing over at the man of her subject, “branched out.”

“Well can you blame him? And no, I’m not hung up on Ron.” Hermione snaps, grabbing her quill. Astoria Greengrass and the sole heir to the Malfoy estate had been something of a coveted item for nearly two years. It was assumed that they would marry, and based on how Malfoy had been with her, it seems that marriage had been his intention as well.

Everyone knew of Astorias blood curse, so when she fell ill, it truly came at no surprise to the public. However, when she publicly broke up with Draco by posting an article in the Daily Profit, well, that indeed came as a shock. Both Astoria and her sister Daphne left for Switzerland a few months after she had grown sick, and when Daphne had returned alone, nearly a month later, everyone understood why.

“I still don’t think Astoria should have done that. Left him so he could ‘be free of an illness that has so raptured my body’ as she so kindly put it.” Pansy says, and Hermione rolls her eyes.

“Do be kind, Pans.” She replies, looking away from Malfoy's head, her voice low. “She knew what was going to happen. She wanted to spare him the pain, I suppose.” Pansy nods, her bob moving along with her.

“Please Granger, let me set you up on a blind date with someone.” Pansy pleads, eyes shining. “And if you don’t like them, you can hex me into next year.”

“I'm just so busy with work at The Ministry and Ginny's pregnancy.” Hermione replies, hoping Pansy would bugger off soon and let her work in peace. Pansy stands, holding her hands in defeat.

“Just promise if someone asks, you’ll give them a shot.” She asks, clasping her hands, earning yet another eye roll from Hermione.

“Fine.” Hermione replies, waving Pansy away. “If someone asks, I’ll give them a shot. Maybe.”

-

Hermione is early to the office the next morning, surprisingly, since she stayed up all night with Ginny on the telephone. Harry and Hermione had finally convinced Ginny to allow the Potter household muggle-machinery, a telephone being one of them, and Ginny was often hooked into having late night conversations.

Yawning, Hermione pushes open the door, waving to the clerk that sat behind the front desk as she makes her way to her own desk. To her surprise, Malfoy is leaning against her desk, his arms folded over his chest and eyes staring into the distance.

“Goodmorning,” Hermione says politely, placing her briefcase on the surface. “Is there something…I can help you with?” Malfoy turns to look at her, a slight scowl dancing across his features, uncrossing his arms as he says, “Pansy has an extraordinarily obnoxious voice.”

Hermione laughs. “Well, you should know since you did date her.” Draco rolls his eyes, replying with a tone dripping with sarcasm. “I suppose, but I must’ve forgotten how much she can harp on and on about anything.” Nodding in reply, Hermione flicks open her briefcase.

“Well, what does Pansy say this time?” She asks, carefully unloading the documents she needs for today's work. She can see Malfoy stand straight, fixing his color slightly and he takes a breath.

“Let's have it out, Granger.”

“Have what?”

Malfoy stares, his grey eyes hard and she can almost physically feel his annoyance grow. “She won’t leave me alone. She nearly wrote me a dozen letters saying you and I would be…decent, together. So, let's try it, tomorrow night, maybe, after work?”

He’s looking at her with such exasperation, Hermione's cheeks begin to warm. “I'm missing something, aren’t I?” She asks, and he nods fevertly.

“A date, Granger.” He says, his eyes boring into hers. “Go on a date with me and you can tell Pansy how much you dislike me after, then she’ll leave us both alone.”

Hermione could smack herself with how oblivious she feels, and by the expression on his face, Malfoy would smack her too.

“Malfoy, we don’t need t–”

“Tomorrow then, after work?” He interrupts, straightening his cufflinks. The whole situation is so bizarre, so out of character and odd, that Hermione has no reply. He takes it as a yes, nodding once. “The Three broomsticks should work. Let's say 7pm.” And he walks off, leaving Hermione gaping awkwardly at her desk.

Ah yes, that was how she landed the date. The rest was history, at least in her world.

In the months that follow, Hermione and Draco date. After a cautiously yet enjoyable evening at the Three broomsticks, Draco tells her he hasn’t talked this much to one individual in months. They go out again and again, each place slightly nicer and more upscale than the last, Draco fronting the tab every time. Hermione isn’t sure how they click, how their war-wounded souls fit one another, but they do, and she simply can’t get enough of it.

After nearly three months of fine dining and timid hand holding, Hermione begins to fret that he wants out.

“Hermione, why on earth would you think that?” Ginny asks, her feet propped up on the loveseat she picked out for Easter, her hand caressing her swollen belly. “He’s obviously smitten with you.”

“Well, he hasn’t really…made any moves.” Hermione whispers, wringing her hands as she sits across from her oldest friend, fretting about her relationship. “Sometimes he holds my hand but we haven’t even kissed.”

“You haven’t even kissed?” Ginny echos, sitting up slightly. “My goodness what are you a nun?”

“No no,” Hermione sighs, waving away the comment. “It’s just…with how his last relationship ended, I don’t want to push him into anything that he’s uncomfortable with.” Hermione knows Draco likes her, maybe even deeply cares for her, but living in the glittering shadow of Astoria’s ghost was hard. She always feared she could never live up to the standards of his past, a beautiful socialite who died far too early then was fair.

“I get your anxiety, ‘Mione, really I do but,”Ginny says softly, reaching out to Hermione. “Astorias gone. You know it, Draco knows it, and he wants you. If you’re tired of waiting, why don’t you kiss him?”

“Me?” Hermione gasps. “I couldn’t, I just, I wouldn’t know how to even go about that. Plus, he might not want me to.”

“Oh he does,” Ginny counters, wiggling her brows. “Harrys told me something and I’ve gotta say ‘Mione. You should jump on that.”

The next evening as Hermione cleans up their dishes from dinner in her flat, she decides to jump on it.

“Draco, do you not find me attractive?” She instantly regrets the words as they leave her mouth. He looks at her in confusion, his white blond brows furrow together as he leans forward.

“Heavens no, I find you incredibly…” he falters, looking from her face quickly down her body and then up again. “I find you incredible.”

“Well I just…well what are you waiting for then?” She replies, determination seeping into her voice. “I am fine with taking things slowly, for I am a slow and steady person myself, but I just want to know if there’s a reason, is it my hair?” She reaches up, pushing a curl back. “I know it's incredibly unruly.”

She opens her mouth to continue with her protest, but Draco leans forward—the both of them standing by the kitchen table—and takes her hands in his. He’s tall, several inches taller than her, and she has to crane her neck to look into his face. Adoration sparkles in his grey eyes, and he smiles.

“Granger, do you want me to kiss you?” He asks, his voice soft. Her stomach flips, the room suddenly growing warmer.

“Only if yo—”

“Don’t think,” he interrupts, squeezing her hand softly. “Just answer.” She pauses, looking between their clasped hands and his tall frame.

Dropping her hands, he slowly cups her face, his long fingers supporting her jaw and inching slightly past her hairline. “Do you want me to kiss you, Hermione.”

It’s posed as a demand, not a question, and he’s so close she can feel the soft caress of his breath across her lips.

“Yes.” She whispers, abandoning fear and she closes her eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips against hers.

It’s slow, and soft, his hands dropping hers as he frames her face, and it’s everything she’d hoped for but more. Draco cranes her face close to his, fingernails scraping gently at the hairline on the base of her neck, and she envelopes her hands over his. When he pulls away, dreadfully too soon, she leans forward to nuzzle her face into the base of his neck, hands leaning against his chest as she breathes in his scent.

[loeyparker]

hurt her to save her - d.m

pairing: draco x fem!reader

word count: 7k 

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death and torture

plot: getting closer to Draco during sixth year has consequences. Draco realizes that when he’s forced to hurt you in order to keep you safe from Voldemort

a/n: my HP obsession is back so I’ve returned to writing fics but i might have went overboard with this one lmao . it wasn’t requested, but if someone wants part 2 i’m gonna do it <3

Draco Malfoy had a very good memory. Besides being cunning and arrogant, he was also incredibly smart – which is precisely why he was second best in most classes. Behind the cold, uncaring façade the youngest Malfoy put out into the world however, stood a boy who remembered things he probably should have forgotten.

Lately, Draco Malfoy couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything but fear. He attempted to mask the feeling either with anger, determination or indifference but the true, raw feeling of fear was behind it all, much like a dementor guarding all his other emotions. The past summer planted dread and terror deep into his mind and the ink on his skin felt like it was seeping through his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his heart.

By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts for his sixth year, he felt drained. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the young boy attempted to pretend to be a normal student, despite the countless sleepless nights and stray tears that sometimes escaped through small cracks in the emotional wall he’d built around him over the years. The tears only saw the light of day in the darkness of the Room of Requirement, where he found himself surrounded by old artifacts and silence.  

“Draco, Severus has been telling me you seem distracted.” The soft, yet scared tone of Draco’s mother rang throughout the empty, rotting room in the Shrieking Shack. Broken windows allowed for the wind to invade the abandoned building violently and loudly, and to dance around the three figures standing in the dark. It caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if the reaction came from the cold or from Narcissa and Severus’s stares aimed at him.

Draco felt so small under their gaze.

“That’s true, I have been.” Draco admitted, looking forward. He focused on a spider trapping a moth in its web. “With school.” The moth fought, attempted to flap its wings but the web was too sticky. “I have to keep up my grades. Them dropping suddenly would be suspicious.” Draco’s voice didn’t waver, despite his heart beating at a much more rapid pace than normally.

“Lie.” Severus Snape spoke simply. The professor was tasked with taking care of the Slytherin boy, but he wasn’t about to listen to his childish lies while the man knew what he had been seeing in the past months around Hogwarts.

Draco didn’t move.

Narcissa sighed and got closer to her son. She placed her palms on Draco’s pale cheeks and she felt them being hollower than she remembered. Draco still didn’t look at her. The spider was covering the dying moth in his web, fully suffocating the creature.

“My boy, the dead don’t need lovers.” Narcissa’s voice was quiet, regretful even. Her heart ached for the boy who was so quickly deprived of a childhood.

“You cannot forget about the assignment because of a girl.” Snape spoke up, his voice monotonous.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Draco spat back and took a step away from his mother, whose hands dropped. He didn’t feel the lack of her palms on his cheeks, as they left no warmth Draco could feel. “And there’s no girl.”

“Do not lie to us, boy. I have seen you with the Ravenclaw girl, I am not blind.” Snape saw the glances between Draco and you in the Great Hall, he saw the way Draco fixed his gaze on you during DADA. He also caught you walking into the Room of Requirement not long after Draco the previous night. On top of that, Minerva had mentioned how Draco’s recent assignments closely mirrored yours. You had a certain style noticeable in your homework answers, and that style began to be seen in Draco’s own homework which lead everyone to speculate the two students may be closer than everyone thinks.

Before Draco could deny, Narcissa spoke “Under other circumstances, I’d be delighted to hear about a girl in your life.” Her tone was soft, yet it held an edge and sternness to it. “But you have a mission, Draco. Do I need to remind you of the consequences to befall our family if you don’t succeed?”

“No.” Draco spat. He already knew the consequences – loud and clear. They had been drilled into his mind, heart and soul the entire summer. If he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill Draco’s entire family instead.

“The girl is another weakness. Another person to add to the death list, Draco.” His mother pleaded. “You know he will kill her if he finds out.”

“I know.”

Draco could feel all the warmth in his body melt away and even his bones felt cold and heavy.

“You can still save her.” Snape spoke. “Focus on you mission, hurt her. Make her believe you don’t love her.”

Draco glanced at the spider one last time, and the moth laid still in the webs of the predator. The wind made the web sway, but only slightly. It was too sturdy to be blown away by any forces.

“Hurt her to save her.” Narcissa’s voice echoed through Draco’s mind all the way back to the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t appear that night, and so the boy went to bed instead. He entered an empty Slytherin common room and even though the fire was burning, Draco couldn’t feel its warmth. Not even as he knelt in front of the flames, attempting to warm his freezing hands. His movements were mechanic. As he laid in bed that night, he couldn’t remember how exactly he got back into the dorm from the Shack.

However, he remembered events that took place years ago perfectly.

He especially remembered the night of the Yule Ball, two years prior. He can pinpoint the exact moment he spotted you in the crowd of well-dressed students. It was, in his mind, the first time he really, truly saw you. He remembered the small -but noticeable skip of his heart that happened as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. You were smiling, but sitting at the wrong table –  which confused him for a moment. You were sat at the Gryffindor table, right next to the Weasley twins who were making you laugh. A Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco didn’t know was behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders thus signaling that he was your date that night through possessive body language. You didn’t acknowledge his presence much, though.

Pansy, Draco’s date, made comments about your dress each time you stood up to dance. The long dark blue satin dress gently touched the ground with each step you took, the slit in its side slightly exposed your leg with each movement. There was a smile on your face the whole night.

Draco thought you looked so beautiful.

He thought you looked beautiful even when your glance danced towards Ron Weasley until the end of the ball.

Draco also remembered the night Pansy dragged you into Umbridge’s office a year later. She held your arms behind your back forcefully while you struggled to get out of her grasp. Your wand was in her possession and you looked angry. A great juxtaposition to how you looked on the night of the Yule Ball. He remembered thinking how much sense it made for you to be tangled in Harry Potter’s mess because that’s what Potter did. He had everyone on his side, all odds in his favor while Draco was being dealt bad cards at every turn.  

You fought and tried to get away from Pansy. Your hair was messy, and your oversized blue sweater was getting untucked from your jeans with each forceful move you made. A frown painted your soft features, your eyes seemed darker than usual. Draco caught a glimpse of the scars on your wrist which he immediately knew came from Umbridge’s detention sessions, and he felt a flicker of rage rise into his stomach. The feeling directly contradicted the satisfaction he had been feeling at the sight of Potter getting his plans spoiled right in front of him.

“Parkinson, lay it off.” Draco found himself spitting when he realized the pressure on your wrist was painful. He spoke before he realized what he was doing, and so he found the confused gazes of Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and you – all fixed on him. Pansy obeyed Draco with discomfort.

You looked at him quizzingly, not really understanding why he was suddenly…helping you? He met your gaze just for a second before a heavy glare returned in his eyes and he turned away, focusing entirely on Harry and Umbridge.

It was minutes later when he watched your figure getting smaller as you ran away from Umbridge’s office, escaping with your friends. Draco and his friends were left behind and unable to follow as they each struggled with curses thrown at them in the escape. You were all long gone by the time the group of Slytherins came to, and Draco remembered that he found himself wishing he had people running into the line of fire for him like Harry did – he wished you would’ve glanced back at him in your escape and then weeks later when he was told about the events of that night, he found himself hoping his father didn’t hurt you in the Ministry attack.

Those thoughts and memories didn’t stay with him for long that summer, though. Draco couldn’t say that you crossed his mind after he received the Mark.

Until that night.

It was late and he was in the Room of Requirement, still fiddling with the cabinet. It was the fourth consecutive night spent in there after finding the damn thing, and he wasn’t anywhere close to fixing it. Frustrated, he punched and kicked the wood so hard that his knuckles sent sharp waves of pain through his arm. It was because of the noise he was making, the kicks and grunts that he didn’t hear the Room’s doors open and close.

You had previously been in the Gryffindor common room, attending one of their parties. There weren’t lots of Ravenclaws there – hell, it was only you, Stiles, Padma, Anthony and Michael. And it was all going well. You were sat on a bean bag chair with Stiles in-between your legs, surrounded by your Gryffindor friends: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, with Dean and Seamus on their way to you all with butterbeers in hand. The atmosphere was fun and light – a welcomed escape from the reality surrounding you, but you all decided to enjoy the moment and pretend the world outside the common room didn’t exist for the night. So you sat close to the fire and you didn’t know if the hot flames were warming you up or if it was the fact that Ron was focusing an unusual amount of attention on you.

You’ve had a crush on the Weasley boy since third year, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster each time he smiled at you.

You were having a great time.

“And if I become an Animagus to help Scott, then what?” Stiles spoke. Harry shook his head. You puffed. “What? We’d be the new generation of the Marauders; someone has to keep the legacy alive.” He continued, determined.

“Lupin would kill you, mate.” Ron laughed.

“You know animagi don’t pick their animal though, right?” You questioned. Stiles looked up at you and beamed.

“I know. But it’s like, vibe related so I think I’m safe. I’d absolutely be a dog, or a wolf.”

You glanced worryingly at Harry, but the boy simply burst out laughing and denied jokingly. Everyone else hearing the conversation laughed as well.

“Stiles, if it’s vibe related then you’d be a weasel.” You spoke, prompting laughs from everyone. Ron high fived you for the joke and you smiled wider than you thought possible.

The good mood didn’t last long, though. Only moments later Lavender Brown joined the group and comfortably sat herself in Ron’s lap. You watched him give her a quick kiss and wrap his arms around her. “What are we talking about?” She asked and it was as if your ears got covered. The sound faded, your smile dropped, your shoulders slumped. Ron would never like you back, you had to accept that. It was pathetic how you longed for the boy for so long.

So, you excused yourself and left the common room entirely to take a walk. You didn’t expect to end up outside the Room of Requirement, and you didn’t even feel like going inside. But the hall was dark and cold and you began hearing footsteps and the flickering light of Filch’s lantern slowly began illuminating the stone walls and with a haste movement, you went into the Room before Filch could walk around the corner and catch you.

You found yourself in a Room much different from the training grounds you had known while being part of the D.A. Tall piles of clutter seemed to reach the ceiling and despite the room being extremely vast, it felt tiny and crowded because of all the objects tossed and piled everywhere in sight. You walked on a path formed through columns made out of old boxes and books, all piled amongst stacked chairs, empty owl cages and rusty potions equipment. Loud bangs followed by grunts caused you to stop in your tracks and draw out your wand. The room in itself seemed unpredictable, and so you already had about six defensive spells ready to go in your mind and on the tip of your tongue.

You caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair before anything else. It looked messy – very different from the way Draco usually wore it: slick and perfect. Now, it gave you the feeling that he’d been vigorously running his fingers through it, causing it to become tousled. He was only in a white shirt – the robe, vest and tie laid disregarded on a near-by couch.

Lowering your wand, you gently knocked on a table to get his attention.

He turned around in a panic. His hand reached for his wand but stopped midair when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” Draco spat with no hesitation. His heart skipped a beat again, like it did on the night of the Yule Ball.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You responded, glancing at the cabinet in front of him. At the time, you didn’t think anything of it.

“None of your business.”

“I don’t care anyway.” You glared. “This room appeared to me like it did for you and since I think I need it, I’m not leaving.” With your arms crossed, you leaned against a random tossed out piece of furniture.

“Isn’t there a Gryffindor party you should be at?” Draco’s gaze remained cold and the scowl on his face didn’t falter.

“You know about that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I know everything that goes on around here.” He broke eye contact by focusing on folding up his sleeves. When his hand began working on his left forearm, he stopped abruptly, remembering. He went stiff at the realization, which you noticed. Before you could speak however, he looked back at you with a smirk, “Was Lavender Brown there so you ran away?” It was as if he didn’t look struck by lightning just two seconds before.

However, his words made you forget his strange behavior. “The hell? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/L/N). Everyone knows you have the hots for Weasley. Least you can do is own up to it.” He teased with a mixture of annoyance and amusement present on his face.

“Piss off, Malfoy.” Walking up to the old couch Draco’s uniform laid on top of, you sat down and watched as the dust flew out of its cushion. Draco groaned. “I’m just gonna nap here until I’m sure Filch left and isn’t near the Ravenclaw tower.”

Draco mumbled some things you didn’t bother to understand, and then silence befell both of you. He didn’t really bother to fight you to leave even though, in retrospect, he should have had. Maybe if you didn’t stay with him that night, he wouldn’t be meeting you in the Room months later with tears burning his eyes. But, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that night. That night, he just rolled his eyes at you breaking the silence ten minutes later, when he thought you were asleep.

“What are you even doing there?”

“I told you, none of your business.” He spat.

“Is that the vanishing cabinet Peeves broke a few years ago?”

Draco turned around. It was his turn to be surprised by your knowledge. “How do you know about that?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure as you sat cross-legged on the old couch he napped on countless times before. You wore casual clothes – which he always thought looked great on you, and your hair laid straight over your shoulders. The few candles he had lit around softly luminated your face with warm tones.

You smiled proudly at his question.

“Fred and George shoved Montague in it last year” you laughed “it was quite funny.”

Draco remembered the incident. He was, after all, the one who found Montague stuck in a bathroom after the encounter with the twins.

“You’re trying to fix it, aren’t you?” Draco watched you jump up from the couch and walk next to him to examine the cabinet. He suddenly felt on edge, exposed. The Ravenclaw in you was jumping to solve a problem, while the Slytherin in him was about to explode. “Have you tried a mending charm?”

“Of course, I tried a mending charm.” Draco answered with annoyance in his voice. You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t work.”

“Well, then- “

“I don’t need nor want your help, (Y/L/N).” He glared down at you. “I can handle it myself.”

“Asshole.” You mumbled before taking a few steps back from Draco. He didn’t turn to you. Instead, he focused on his task even though his mind wasn’t on it anymore. He focused on your footsteps as you began to walk away without another word and before he could overthink, he spoke up softly. “But you can stay, if you want.”

You didn’t stop walking as you answered him. “I don’t.”

Draco then heard you utter “Lumos”, heard your footsteps getting quitter and quieter, then the heavy doors being pulled open. After they closed, he found himself surrounded by silence once again. Not dwelling on it, he pushed the thought of you away and resumed his work. Nothing was more important than his assignment.

Things slowly started to shift after that night.

The next day in Transfiguration as he was zoning out, a paper butterfly landed on his desk. He glanced around the room but saw nobody giving any sign of sending him the note. However, after he opened it and read its contents, his eyes immediately found you. On the paper was a list of incantations that would be useful in repairing things, and he knew you had sent it even though you looked focused on the textbook in front of you. It looked as if you were purposefully trying to ignore him, and Draco allowed the ghost of a smirk to form at the corners of his lips.

Two nights later, Draco walked into the Room of Requirement and you were already there. A few more candles than usual were lit as you sat on the (now clean looking) couch, reading a heavy, dense book. “Have they worked?” you asked without looking up from your book.

Draco sighed, loosening his tie. “No.”

And as time passed, you and Draco began spending more and more time together. Initially, you tried to help him fix the cabinet. It gave you a distraction from Ron and Lavender. But it was also obvious that fixing the old thing was important to him – he seemed desperate and for some reason, you felt like helping. And so, you found yourself sitting close to Draco on that old, tossed out couch with different heavy books resting in your lap every night, both searching for spells that could work. Each few day the space between you decreased until you reached a point where your knees touched and your shoulder pressed into his bicep. Sometimes you could even feel his minty breath on your face – just for a second. But the feeling began to linger even as you walked the stairs up to the Ravenclaw tower late at night.

You also found yourself thinking less and less about Ron.

Then, about a month after the Gryffindor party, the Katie Bell incident took place.

Harry began suspecting Draco of the attack and accused him of being a Death Eater. You didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for a few days after that because honestly, you were scared. You knew, deep in your heart that what Harry was saying made sense and because of that you started to believe that Draco’s cabinet wasn’t just some fun project. You lit on fire all the parchment you had written mending charms on, in a haste and with shaky hands.

You didn’t want to see him after that.

But you found yourself days later sneaking out of the tower late at night, quietly making your way to the seventh floor.

Draco got heavily scolded by Snape for the necklace attempt. The Professor found his action completely foolish and didn’t hesitate to let Draco know that. The boy arrived at the Room feeling beaten, defeated. On top of that, he was met by the empty couch and the broken cabinet and he snapped. In a fit of rage, he broke one of the cabinet’s doors and threw it at the couch. The noise he caused rang through the entire room, momentarily covering the silence. He couldn’t bear the sight of his failure any longer and the thought that you were now possibly scared of him after rumors of him being a Death Eater spread around the school, thanks to Potter, angered him even more.

“Training for the next Triwizard Tournament, Malfoy?”

Your voice made him turn around quickly, surprised look on his face.

A small smile danced at your lips, and you took out your wand. Pointing it at the broken door, you cast out “Repairo,” and the door lifted from the couch, gently levitating towards the cabinet and fixing itself. In the end, it looked as if nothing had happened. “At least this works, otherwise you would’ve had to pick up some muggle skills.” You teased.

Draco let out a small laugh, before his face fell again and he sat down on the dusty floor. His back rested against some other piece of forgotten furniture and he brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes.

You quietly sat next to him with a huff.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked quietly.

After a moment of silence, you answered with honesty “I don’t know.” And you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why, despite the pit in your stomach that took shape as soon as Harry accused Draco of being a Death Eater, you were alone with him in a secret room, late at night.

Opening his eyes, Draco made a quick decision. He placed his left hand on your right knee, squeezing. Your eyes met – he looked calm; you were confused. “Do you trust me?” Draco’s voice was just a whisper. Alas, through the deafening silence of the Room, you heard him loud and clear.

“I don’t know.” You answered again. And, mirroring his impulsive move, you placed a hand over his. He felt cold at the touch and as you got used to the slightly stinging feeling, he found comfort in your warmth. “All I know is that I’m here, for some reason. I felt like seeing you.” You admitted, your voice tender and quiet.

Draco didn’t speak for a while. You thought you embarrassed yourself but didn’t dare to move.

“There are things about me that you really wouldn’t like if you knew.” The boy finally spoke. His eyes were glued to the cabinet that was a few feet from you both, but his mind was miles away. “I’m not a good man.” He admitted with no waver in his tone, no hesitation.

And maybe it was the daily, month-long meetings you’ve had with him. Or maybe it was the flicker of decency you saw in him when he got Pansy to release her painful grip on you the previous year. But your mind dug up small events and information buried deep in your memory that made you frown at his words. You remembered Dobby. Harry told you he was the Malfoy’s house elf who tried to keep him safe during second year, and it all seemed strange to you. You knew that house elves, if owned, could not act on their own volition no matter how strong their beliefs and inclinations were. In your mind it seemed unlikely that Dobby left the Malfoys without their knowledge and so, for the longest time you had a hunch it was Draco who sent Dobby to warn Harry. Especially since Lucius was the one who snuck Tom Riddle’s diary into Hogwarts. You were also quite sure it was Draco who helped Harry figure out the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk.

But overall, you knew Draco didn’t grow up in a good environment. He’d been heavily manipulated his entire life and it was in that moment, as you sat next to him on dirty floors, hand on top of his, that you decided whatever he was doing, he was doing either because of blackmail or manipulation.

“You can’t let the bad things from the past define you,” You whispered as your fingers slowly occupied the empty spaces between Draco’s own fingers. He was quick to grip your hand into his. “I think you are good. You’ve just been dealt shit cards.”

Draco didn’t show any emotion as he processed your words. But that night as he lay in his bed all he could think about were your words. Nobody had told him he was a good person before, and he’d never felt supported before in his life. And he felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He felt envy because Potter had had you all this time and because of your friendship with him, Draco didn’t get close to you sooner. He felt jealousy because he remembered you were in the Room in the first place because you were heartbroken over Ron – again, someone he didn’t like had all the things Draco felt he should’ve had instead. He felt comfort knowing you weren’t scared of him despite Potter filling your mind with (true) accusations. He felt hopeless because he was a Death Eater now and you were one of the good guys. He also felt entitled, selfish and determined because for the first time in a while, he found himself wanting something – someone, that he wanted for himself: you.

Over the next few months, you both unintentionally grew closer. Draco remembered every smile, every laugh shared between the two of you in the candlelight, hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement. Most days, he worked alone on the cabinet while you studied and pretended he wasn’t doing something potentially harmful. You both found yourselves finding comfort in the other’s mere presence.

You began to think less about Ron and more about Draco and it made you feel strangely guilty, especially when Ron would throw his arm around you like he used to in the Great Hall and you’d catch Draco’s eyes and excuse yourself to move back to the Ravenclaw table.

On certain nights you attempted to get Draco to do homework with you. But with each passing day, he became more and more anxious and afraid. And with each passing day, it hurt and worried you more and more. On a few occasions you did his Transfiguration homework for him just to keep him out of detention.

He owled you a Merry Christmas note during winter break but told you not to write him back. He knew you wished him happy holidays as well.

You gave him a Christmas present when you got back to Hogwarts – a ring, as you’d noticed he liked wearing them. His face lit up at the gesture and it was the first time he embraced you. The action was impulsive but it felt right. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back, the other cradled your head gently. His face buried in your neck and he held you so tight you didn’t dare move. He held you to make sure you were real and wouldn’t slip away from his grasp.

A little over a month later, Draco was feeling the pressure of his tasks heavier than ever. He felt sick each time he looked at the cabinet and you were noticing that. You were also noticing his complete disinterest in school and his reoccurring absences. He’d spend days in the Room, not even coming down to eat. You snuck him meals each time you could but sometimes you’d find them untouched on the floor.

“Alright, Draco. What’s going on?” You confronted him one night.

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you pleaded “Draco you’re not acting like yourself please, tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You never pleaded with a man before, never thought you would. Your ego felt too strong for this. And yet, there you were, standing behind a disheveled Draco Malfoy with an ache in your chest.

He ignored you.

You felt like throwing something at his head.

You watched as he opened the cabinet doors and took out a rotten apple. He held it in his hand for a second too long. It wasn’t unusual, you’ve watched him do this repeatedly over the past five months. You flinched when he threw the apple on the floor with vicious force. He then kicked the bottom of the cabined a bunch of times, yelling out in anger and frustration. His scream echoed through the Room. You pursed your lips.

“I can’t do this.” He finally spoke. “I can’t bloody do this and everyone’s going to die.” He started pacing around the small clearing amidst clutter. “My mum, my dad, me…you – we’re all going to die.” He kicked the plate of food you had brought him a few hours prior, spilling the contents over the floor.

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gonna kill you and mum in front of me, make me watch,” He was frantic “probably gonna torture you first so I die remembering your screams. Then,” he pinched his nose, wiped his mouth “then he’ll kill me. I’ll be last and everyone’s gonna be taking the piss out of me, the fucking kid who couldn’t fix a fucking,” he kicked the cabinet again “magic fucking cabinet!” he kicked and kicked until you could feel the pain he felt in his leg yourself.

You walked up to him and attempted to pull him away from the large wooden broken object, but he pushed you away forcefully. You stumbled back in shock. “How dare – “ You couldn’t finish your sentence, however. He hastily turned to face you, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm aggressively, exposing the Dark Mark.

No words came out of your mouth after that.

You couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off of the mark, and Draco watched you with a pained heart. Part of him expected you to run, another to pull out your wand and attack. He didn’t know which one was coming, he didn’t know which one he preferred. However, he didn’t expect you to walk up to him with slow, steady steps.

His eyes locked with yours as you took his arm into your own. It was as if the Room emptied and the only things in it were the two of you. Holding his arm to your chest, you got as close to him as possible. As he looked down at you, his heavy breath fanned your face. “It’s okay, Draco.” You whispered. “I understand.”

And you did. You understood his choice, understood the position he was forced into. And your heart ached for him.

That’s the night Draco remembered best. The way your figure was illuminated by the soft glow of yellow candles, the soft fabric of your sweater rubbing on his skin. The kindness in your eyes spreading warmth through his veins, the way your lips moved when you spoke his name. Most times he thought about conjuring a Patronus, Draco believed the memory of that night was what he needed to focus on in order to succeed.

With his hand on the back of your head, he quickly lowered himself to reach your height and caught your lips in a kiss. He felt you smiling into it and he found himself mirroring you, until you pulled away to giggle into his shoulder. He couldn’t do anything besides kissing the top of your head.

Days later you were both laying on the couch you had transformed into a cozy spot. You were focused on his Mark, tracing your fingers along the lines of it, gently. Draco knew he was supposed to feel pride in having the Mark – that’s what his family had told him, but he felt something close to shame each time he looked at it.

You rested your hand on top of it, covering it. “I’m sorry. But we’ll figure it out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

A week later he was forced into the meeting with his mom and Snape at the Shrieking Shack. The following night he walked towards the Room of Requirement late, with heavy steps. It felt as if each movement he made on the way happened in slow-motion.

You were reading comfortably when he finally reached you. A smile formed on your lips upon seeing him, but it faded when you took in his appearance, his sour face, hardened figure, stone gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Draco didn’t speak, only pointed his wand towards you. You froze. “Draco?” His hand shook, his face wavered. You were confused.

“I have to do this, (Y/N). He’ll kill you otherwise.” Draco’s voice cracked.

“No, he won’t. You’re a skilled Occlumentist, right? He can’t get into your mind.” You immediately caught on.

He shook his head. “He’ll know, he’ll know. Snape knows, mum knows,” he sounded so scared that you attempted to get up to comfort him, but he threated so you sat back down “he’ll know.”

Tears formed and blurred your vision as your heart picked up speed.

“You know, I didn’t wanna think about you, I wanted to stay focused. I came here to do a task, that’s it. I came to be great, to do great things for the Dark Lord.” Draco began, “But then I saw you. I’ve wanted you since fourth year and then here you were, being good to me and…you woke up a weakness inside me. And I got selfish, I put my mission aside to get something for myself.”

Tears now ran down your face, and Draco mirrored you. You shook your head, silently pleading for him to reconsider.

“But I have a mission, (Y/N) and it’s so important. I can’t be distracted. And I can’t have you being associated with me – it’ll get you killed and I can’t – I can’t have it.”

The candles flickered and for a split second your mind went to a Divination class, where Trelawney explained candle magic. Their dancing light showed instability, chaotic energy while its tall flame indicated success brought about with complications. The air felt cold as you stared at Draco who hadn’t fully stepped into the candlelight. An abyss of darkness stood tall behind him, the sights of it deepening the pit in your stomach. Despite his shaky hands, dark circles underneath his saddened eyes and hollow cheeks, Draco looked put-together. His hair wasn’t messy like it was the first night you found him in the Room. It was back to its slick, flawless style. He wore his all-black suit, and his tie wasn’t loosened.

“I also can’t have you walk out of here knowing everything about me.” His voice hardened and for the first time while being with him, you felt fear.  

“I won’t tell anyone.” Your voice was small. You sat up, your eyes beginning to look for a way out.

“I can’t risk it, you’re friends with Potter. You’re one of the good guys.”

“I won’t put you in danger, Draco.”

He grimaced at your words as if they’ve hit him with the force of a Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to let any more tears fall. You took his reaction as an opportunity to get closer to him. Maybe if you could take away his wand, touch him. Maybe then you could change his mind.

“I won’t endanger you either,” He whispered. “That’s why I have to do this.” At that, he lowered his wand and took two long strides towards you. Another one of his unpredictable actions that left you frozen in your spot. In a swift motion, he cupped your face between his calloused palms. “You know this is the right choice.”

“No,” you whispered and shook your head “no, it’s not. You can teach me Occlumency, I can help you,” your fearful eyes bore into his saddened ones, his heart ached at your words, at the fear he was capable of instilling in you. “We’re a good team, remember? I can help.” You kept pleading as your own hands rested on top of his. You felt the ring you’d given him still on his finger.

He simply shook his head with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “I’ve already corrupted you enough.” Draco admitted and you were taken aback; rendered speechless. “You’ve been covering for me with your friends, lying to Professors, basically doing my homework while I’m working on bringing the school down.”

Your heart dropped; hands started shaking. Draco felt it. He felt the weight of his words starting to crush you. Down in your mind you knew he was doing something bad with the cabinet, but you didn’t think it was so drastic.

Draco continued. Hurt her to save her, his mom’s words rang through his mind. “I’m using the Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts,” his words made you remember the Death Eaters attack at the Quidditch World Cup, where you were almost trampled. You remembered the attack on London that sent one of your family members to the Hospital. You remembered how ruthless the Death Eaters were at the Ministry, when they were throwing deadly curses at a bunch of teenagers.

And there it was.

The look of betrayal, hurt and fear on your face that Draco never wanted to see. He tried to remember the night you saw his Mark, the night you accepted and comforted him. That’s what he wanted to remember, not this. “After I get them here, I’m going to kill Dumbledore.” He continued.

Chills erupted on your body and you recoiled from his touch.

“I knew you were planning something bad, but this, Draco?” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper as you took small steps away from him. He knew this was coming; the disgust, the unacceptance. Was your speech about understanding him all bullshit? “You don’t have to- “

“Yes, I do. It’s my mission.”

“No, listen to me. You’re not this person, you’re not a Death Eater. I know you, Draco. You’re still a good person put in a terrible situation but it’s not all lost, we can-“ Despite your fear, you still found yourself comforting him, pleading with him. Your mind lead an inner battle between understanding the boy’s motives and wanting to let Harry know of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t let Dumbledore die, couldn’t let Death Eaters attack Hogwarts.

“I cursed Katie Bell. Almost killed her.” Draco cut you off.

“I know.” You deadpanned. He parted his lips and frowned in confusion. “I saw the necklace in your bag a week before it all happened. Then I saw it on McGonagall’s desk. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle.” You explained.

Despite the warmth spreading through his heart at the thought of you not abandoning him even after knowing that all those months ago, at the thought that he’d finally found someone to be on his side for once in his life, someone who understood and maybe even actually loved him – despite it all, Draco’s eyes had never showed less emotion.

You wanted to cry but didn’t. Your ego won.

“You know I have to do this, (Y/N).” His voice didn’t waver anymore. The more reasons you gave him to love you, the more his decision solidified in his mind. “And you know I’m doing the right thing,” he wanted to hold you so bad, but he didn’t move; instead, you both stood feet away from each other. “Knowing all this puts you in danger. Coming here every night puts you in danger hell, even looking at me in the Great Hall puts you in danger. I can’t see you brought into the manor tied up, imprisoned and killed as a punishment for me. And you know I’m right. I’m not just some irrelevant follower, I’ve sat at a damn table with The Dark Lord countless times this summer. He’s been in my home; he knows me personally.”

You couldn’t look at him the more he spoke. So, your gaze was stuck on a candle, but your eyes remained unfocused.  

“You’re smart.” Draco kept speaking, his tone now loud and confident. “This is the part where you tell me that even though you wanna change my mind, you know I’m doing the right thing,” he even joked. You wanted to cry but couldn’t speak. He was right. “Tell me you’re proud of me because I’m putting someone else’s wellbeing above my own for once” his voice became muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. It was silent for a moment as Draco watched you process his words, “You’ll be on the right side of history after this. You’ll go back to Weasley who’s a better choice for you than I could ever be – even though it kills me to say that.”

All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

By the time you looked back up at him, he had a few tears running down his face and his wand pointed at you. And so you cried.

“We were a good team, weren’t we?” Draco spoke with one last saddened smile.

“Draco, please. I love –“ you began, but Draco couldn’t bear hear it.

You watched Draco wipe his tears with a swift motion, before a white light formed at the tip of his wand. His voice came out strong, unwavering, and determined. His hand stopped shaking.

“Obliviate,” Draco uttered before you could react.

[weasleytwinwheezes]

Without You |DM|

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Inspired by: Therefore I am by Billie Eilish

Summary: after months of healing from her breakup with Draco, y/n finally moves on but it seems as though Malfoy wants her back

part two

Warnings: angst and some cussing

Word Count: 1.5k

Authors note: first Draco fic! I’m a total simp for him but I would also very much like to cuss him out lol

Flashbacks are in bold italics!

~taglist~ @lilgoddesshines @the-unmanaged-mischief @thefifthweasley

“You’re crazy to ever believe that you ever meant anything at all to me,” he spat at you. Each word cutting you to the bone.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Y/N. You mean the whole world to me,” he whispered, snuggling into your neck.

Looking into his bloodshot eyes, the color seemed to have drained away. Leaving nothing but two dead eyes staring back at you.

“Liar,” you choked out, fully aware of the tears spilling down your cheeks.

“You really love me?” you shyly asked, staring into his soft grey eyes.

“I promise with all of me, my dear,” he reassured you, lips already on yours.

A harsh laugh ripped throughout the air, “Liar? Trust me darling, that's the only truthful thing that’s came out of my mouth in months.”

Your chest felt heavy and you could feel your lungs struggling to catch a breath. The ache that filled your heart was spreading throughout your body as you watched him turn down the stairs. The stone was cold underneath you as you sat in the place that once held your happiest memories with him. The two of you had made the Astronomy Tower your ‘spot’ and now it would forever be tarnished with the memories of the awful words he had spoken. Now laying down the sobs racked your body, half-hearted screams watched throughout the empty stairwell. Where you silently hoped he could hear every last one of them.

------------------------------------------------------------

Numb.

That’s all you truly felt. No other word quite summed it up. You had finally stopped crying after what felt like weeks. You still however searched for his hair in crowds but your eyes no longer started to tear up whenever you heard the sound of his voice. Unfortunately, you still saw him in classes and the common room. Until now, you had never hated being a Slytherin.

The day after things had ended, he showed up to breakfast with Pansy fuckin’ Parkinson. Desperate for just an ounce of his affection, she had wound herself around him like the slimy snake she was. A cocky smile sent your way was enough to cause you to sprint out of the Great Hall. You spent most of the day in Myrtle's bathroom, listening to her trash talk about Pansy while you cried to her.

“She really looks like she got hit square in the face as a child. Possibly with a brick,” Myrtle laughed out.

Her snide remarks about the pair of them, is the only reason you didn’t pack your bags to go home. Which, frankly, you had definitely considered after the embarrassment of it all. Honestly, you hadn’t even had the chance to tell your friends and he does that? Mortified didn’t even cover how you felt.

Looking back at that day brought a sour taste to your mouth. Thankfully, your two best friends stuck by your side the entire time. Knowing they could say ‘I told you so’ at any moment filled you with dread, because they did tell you. But Hermione and Ginny just held you while you cried. They made you shower after the third day of just laying in bed. They both kept snacks in their bags after they noticed you no longer eating at meals. They practically forced you to start sitting at the Gryffindor table during meal times. If it wouldn’t have been for them, you would have just wasted away.

“Oi, space cadet? Where were you?” Ginny teased, but you could see the worry etched along her face.

“As Luna would say, I was far away from here,” you responded, absentmindedly stirring the tea that sat in front of you.

“Is it bad today?” questioned Hermione with soft eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, really guys,” you sincerely responded.

A soft smile laid upon both of their faces as they looked at you. You might look like an empty shell of a person on the outside, but on the inside you were healing.

“Well as long as you’re okay, I have some news for you!’ Ginny exclaimed.

“What might that be? Did you finally trick Harry into snogging you instead of Cho?” you asked, chuckling at the sour face she made. It seems like Harry and Cho may still be a touchy subject for the younger Gryffindor.

“Oh hush you know that’s not it! I heard from a little birdie that one of my brothers may fancy you,” she grinned slyly, watching your every move.

Dumbstruck you stared at her before you quietly asked, “Which one? You’ve got to be joking!”

“Fred! You ninny! He’s only been pining over you since the 3rd year!” Ginny laughed.

“Seriously Y/N, did you forget how pissed he was when everything first happened? It took Harry, George, and Ron to keep him hexing Draco!” Hermione spoke.

The faint memory of Fred yelling at the blonde came to you. This memory seemed to spark others inside of you. Fred always holding open the door, his sly remarks at your former lover, the way he always gave you gifts in your house colors, and so many more. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, Fred Weasley fancies you.

“Just promise me you won’t make him your rebound or anything like that. I know you’re hurt but don’t hurt him in the process of trying to heal yourself,” Ginny warned.

Nodding your head you replied, “Of course Ginny. I wouldn’t do that to him, besides I don’t even know what I feel for him. If I even feel anything. But I promise, I won’t do anything until I know.”

Hooking the two of your pinkies together, you made a promise not to hurt her brother. Laughing as you pulled your hands away, you didn’t notice the grey eyes fixated on your every move. For the first time in weeks, you weren’t interested in seeking out the attention of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

---------------------------------------------

Six months since Draco.

Truthfully, you were happy. You know longer searched for him in a crowd or tried to catch a glimpse of him in the common room. You stopped trying to be the girl he wanted and you had never felt better. Although things didn't work out with Fred, the two of you had a remarkable friendship and he was dating Angelina now. He never tried to push you and didn’t seem to take the blow too hard when you told him you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. You had a slight inkling he had already started to crush on his fellow Gryffindor.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you looked around the Great Hall which seemed to be buzzing with joy. Christmas had came to Hogwarts and everyone was thrilled. Trees were decorated and twinkled with lights. The entire atmosphere changed this time of year and you couldn’t help but be envious of it. You sighed inwardly thinking of all the holiday parties your parents would force you to go to and the thought of seeing Malfoy there.

While stirring the hot chocolate sat in front of you, you didn’t notice the person lingering a few feet from you.

“Y/N, can we talk?” a voice spoke, causing you to snap your head upwards.

A scowl immediately found home on your features, surprising not only you but Draco Malfoy.

“What could we possibly have to talk about, Malfoy?” you hissed, never breaking eye contact.

“Last name? That’s harsh even for you, Y/N,” he spoke.

“Don’t call me that and go away,” you replied, rage filling you.

“Can we please go somewhere? I need to speak to you privately,” he pleaded.

“No. I’m not going anywhere with you. So if you really have to say something to me, you can say it here,” you harshly replied.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was a fool and I hurt you. I didn’t mean what I said. I did love you. I still do. What we had was real and I want it back,” he lowly responded, eyes threatening to spill the tears that stilled along his waterline.

A loud, bitter laugh left your mouth. If you wouldn’t have been the one to release it, you would have sworn Bellatrix LeStrange was in Hogwarts.

“You have some fucking nerve Malfoy! After months of letting me waste away thinking that I was some unlovable loser, you say this. Well hear me out this time- I don’t love you. You’re incapable of love. You chew people up and then spit them out when you’re finished with them. You think that you’re the man but you’re just a scared little boy. I’m tired of pretending that you were ever good to me. You don’t hurt people you love,” you screamed, not caring to cause a scene.

You watched as Draco looked around the room, guilt plastered along his face. He looked back at you, tears now falling down his face and took a step back. Ice ran through your veins when you saw the tears, never had you seen him cry. Not even as children when he fell and scraped a knee. Without another word, he spun around and hurried out of the Great Hall leaving you to wonder if he was actually telling the truth.

[cafeacademia]

Guardian | Chapter One

Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter Summary: As you navigate your fifth year at Hogwarts, you reflect on the things that have led you this far and you begin to wonder if your complicated friendship with Draco holds more meaning than you originally anticipated.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, some friendly teasing, mentions of Umbridge’s punishments, description of harm to a student, comfort, fluff.

Word count: Approx 4000 (oopsies)

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, here’s the first full part of the series! Please check out the Prologue if you’re new to the series, it gives some general setting up for the story and explains how this soulmate AU works. Enjoy! 💖

Flashbacks are separated using *** and use of the soulmate book is highlighted in italics

Previous Part | Next part

(Gif is my own)

Sitting in the library, Neville was not far from the desk you were sat at as he scoured the shelves for a copy of a book about rare magical properties in plants while you were trying to work on your final Potions essay for the term. “This feels impossible.” You yawned, slouching over your four parchment rolls of completed essay. All you really had to do now was make a conclusion, but your brain was wandering after a few hours of working on your homework and it just wasn’t happening. “That’s incredible.” Neville whispered to himself and you couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, looking over your shoulder to see that he was fully engrossed in the book he had pulled off the shelf.

Putting your quill down, you looked down at your hand, eyes trailing over the little bandage wrap you wore over the mark left from the detention you had served the previous evening with Umbridge. It was still sore and it felt very tender, but you tried your best to keep it hidden under the bandage and the sleeve of your school jumper. Slowly, your mind wandered towards what Draco might be up to. You hadn’t spoken to him in months since you had started in your fifth year and you’d had less of desire to do so now that he was in the Inquisitorial Squad. And your thoughts paced back to your fourth year when you had started to share a bit of a friendship with him.

***

“You’re fraternizing with the enemy, you are.” Ron scoffed. “I am not.” You frowned at him. “Oi, shove off would you? I know you don’t like the little git, but he seems to like our girl, isn’t that right George?” Fred asked, looking over your head to his twin who was standing on the other side of you. “That’s right Fred, maybe he’s got a crush on you.” He chuckled, nudging you in the side. “Ah, young love.” Fred sighed, garnering a multitude of reactions between Ron sounding utterly disgusted to Ginny’s amused laughter. “Draco is just being friendly.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh Draco is it now? Not Malfoy anymore eh?” Fred teased.

“He’s such a git, Malfoy’s not worth your time anyway, he’s probably just using you or something.” Ron argued and for once, Hermione gave Ron an agreeing nod. “Besides, since when is Malfoy nice to anyone?” Hermione asked, Fred and George giving each other a look, they were a little more accepting than the others, but with the question raised even the twins wondered if there wasn’t another motivation there.

Sighing, you leaned back against the wall of the quad and glanced over at Neville, who had just been quietly listening to the conversation without saying a word, but the look on his face told you that he felt the same as the rest of your friends. The problem was, while you really, truly valued their opinion and you understood that they were trying to look out for you, albeit with a little tough love on Ron’s end, you knew there was something there between you and Draco but you just couldn’t seem to find the words to describe it.

Was it friendship? Was it some kind of connection deeper than that? Whatever it was, Draco seemed to become a different person around you. He was more genuine, more open, more himself and oddly, you were starting to feel like he really valued your attention and your opinion.

“You shouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction.” Ron went on, Harry now wandering over to join the group and you heaved out a sigh because you knew as soon as he joined in, the two of them would be going on about how much of ‘bloody git’ Draco was. “Give who the satisfaction?” Harry asked. “Malfoy.” Ron replied in a disgruntled tone. “Fine,” You gritted out. “Then I won’t give either of you the satisfaction, Ronald.” You suddenly burst out, everyone looking at you as if you had grown a second head from your sudden outburst. “What’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He asked, a little bewildered.

But as the days passed, your friends started to realise what you had meant by that statement. Your little chats with Draco seemed to have halted entirely, and you didn’t speak a word about your budding friendship with the Slytherin. It was as if you had completely forgotten it had ever happened and your friends were starting to wonder if you were sneaking off to talk to him without any prying eyes, but of course there was no way they could prove it.

You valued their concern, you appreciated it in fact, but stupid or not you couldn’t deny that you felt a pull towards Draco. So you removed all indication that there was any interaction with Draco at all and it became quickly apparent to you, that maybe it was safer to just have a friendship with Draco in secret, especially as you weren’t too fond of the attention that being around the Slytherin Prince brought you.

You couldn’t deny, the secret meetings with Draco felt a little wrong, purely because you knew you’d get an absolute earful from Ron if he ever found out. But you still loved spending time with Draco, because out of everyone you had ever spent time with, Draco seemed to really value your company, be it quiet or more talkative. He seemed to understand when there were days that you just didn’t want to say a lot or you were more shy than usual and he understood that it was okay to enjoy silent company, but he also enjoyed it when you had energetic days and you wanted to chat about whatever came to mind.

***

“Are you listening?” Neville asked, leaning over your chair. “Hm?” You suddenly looked up at him, a little bit startled from being pulled away from your thoughts. “If we don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Neville warned and you pulled a face of worry before you hurried to pack away your things.

“Thank Merlin.” Neville mumbled as you both practically ran up the stairs to your classroom, seeing that there was a line of students waiting outside of the room, telling you that either you were just on time or Umbridge was late, though you thought the latter to be unlikely when she liked to go on about punctuality so often.

As you joined the line, Draco Malfoy made his way up the stairs, stopping when he reached you and pushed his way into the queue, though he was careful not to push you. And while Neville was busy catching up with Susan Bones who was standing on the other side of him, Draco leaned in and whispered to you.

“Meet me after class?” He asked. “Promise no funny business, just you and me.” He murmured and you tentatively glanced up at him. “This isn’t about you know what, is it?” You asked quietly. Draco knew what you were referring to. He knew you would be worried that he might try and pry some information out of you about the DA. Checking from side to side with a quick look, he held up his hand in front of you and pointed his ring finger at you. “I promise, it’s just like our old chats.” He whispered, glancing down to see you smiling, realising he was attempting a pinky promise. “Alright, but you’re using the wrong finger.” You had to refrain from giggling and instead, you shyly hid your smile as best as you could. Hesitantly you raised your hand, almost too shy to even touch him, but you pulled his little finger free and linked it with your own. “Sorry, I always forget which finger it is, muggle promises are strange.” Draco mumbled.

It wasn’t long before Umbridge finally poked her head out of the classroom and invited everyone in.

Draco sighed as he slouched down in his chair with his arms crossed in the drier than normal Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Umbridge was particularly boring to listen to as she droned on about a test you’d all be taking soon.

Instead, his focus was trained on the notebook that peeked out of the top of his bag that sat under his desk. He wished he could pick the book up and leaf through the pages, idly reading your handwriting, take in your thoughts and feelings and remind himself of days before now. Sometimes Draco wished that he could outright approach you and tell you that it was him, that he was your soulmate, but really that would be quite a bad move.

Draco wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to actually tell you, perhaps there was something that would prevent him from doing so or some sort of consequence and he was especially wary of this since his fourth year at Hogwarts when Pansy Parkinson had involved herself.

***

“What is that tatty old thing anyway? And why do you always brandish it about like a... a trophy or something?” She had asked with a judgemental edge to her tone, stealing it right out of Draco’s lap. The boy had nearly thrown himself across the common room at her as she hurried off with it. “I bet it’s a diary.” She giggled to herself. “Yeah, or he keeps secrets in there.” Crabbe added as he joined her. “That’s what a diary is, you dolt.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Draco stormed towards the pair of them, his heart racing with fear as he watched Pansy teasingly open the cover of the book. However, much to Pansy’s surprise and even more so to Draco’s, there wasn’t a single word, not a single drop of ink, no markings, nothing. The book was completely empty. “You really carry around an empty book?” Pansy questioned, sceptical with her upper lip curled in disappointment. “What did you expect, my heartfelt feelings?” Draco scoffed, his tone cold and sarcastic as he snatched the book back from her, trying not to appear too hurt that his book had been handled roughly. “I’m to keep it safe. Father sent it to me.” Draco lied through his teeth, but thankfully, his lies were hard to detect, even for someone who knew Draco’s tactics to uphold his image and Pansy just pulled an expression that told him that she thought it was weird.

***

But now, as he sat in class, Draco could still see the small dent in the leather cover that Pansy had caused when she’d roughly stolen it from his grasp. He was still angry about it even a year later, perhaps it was irrational to be so annoyed about damage to a book, but this was special and he remembered how very upset he had felt that someone other than him had held the book. It was precious, vulnerable and he treasured it.

But it wasn’t just the book that he treasured. No, what he considered to be more important, more precious and something truly wonderful in every aspect was you. Which was why he had started to slowly distance himself from you. But as Draco looked up to see you sitting a few rows ahead of him in the middle of the classroom, the thing that reminded him of why he wanted to see you peeked out from under your jumper sleeve. Your hand was bandaged and Draco was quite angry with himself, because the night before when you had unknowingly written to him in your book and told him that a teacher had hurt you during detention, Draco had immediately known what it meant and he was livid.

“Attention, mister Malfoy.” Umbridge practically shrieked across the classroom, slamming her hand down onto the front desk, disturbing the Friday afternoon gloom and making everyone in the room jump at her sudden raised voice before she gave him a forced smile. Draco lazily sat up in his seat, eyes flitting to you every time Umbridge turned away to write or point at something on the blackboard as his mind wandered throughout the rest of the lesson.

When the class finally came to an end and Professor Umbridge excused you all to enjoy the rest of your Friday evening, Draco left the classroom and leaned against the wall outside until the very last person left the room.

Draco gave you a subtle smile before he very quickly peeked around the doorframe to see that Umbridge was climbing the stairs to her office before he turned to look at you and give you a proper smile. “I’m so sorry it’s been months, it’s bloody difficult with her around, it’s like she’s everywhere.” Draco sighed, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I understand, everyone is on high alert at the moment.” You replied in a quiet tone, almost too afraid to speak up as Draco began to walk you down the stairs, having avoided the eyes of all of your classmates and hopefully any spying caretakers too.

You were anxious to be spending time with Draco after all of this time. Especially as now he was part of the Inquisitorial Squad and part of you was afraid that your friends had been right last year. What if he did try to use you? But Draco had not yet betrayed your trust and you firmly believed in giving him the benefit of the doubt, you just hoped you weren’t doing it at your own expense.

“Come, we can talk in here.” Draco stepped into a hidden little alcove that was behind a statue at the side of the staircase. It was unlikely anyone would stop long enough to be able to hear you both talking and no one could see you hidden around the corner either.

“Was she hard on you yesterday?” Draco whispered his eyes softening as he watched you give him a little nod. “Yeah, a little.” You replied. “How did you know?” You queried, shyly looking up at him. “Pansy told me she caught you and Neville yesterday.” He explained and you just gave him a little nod. It wasn’t an outright lie, Pansy had told him she’d caught some students, but she never said who, it was only until you confided in your soulmate that it had happened that he knew you must have been in the group that Parkinson had caught. He watched as you slowly lifted your hand and pulled up your jumper sleeve to show him the bandage.

“Can I see?” Draco asked softly, gently taking your hand into both of his, holding you so softly like he was afraid he could hurt you with just his tender touch. You nodded, Draco leaning down to catch the way your eyes seemed to be filled with shame and you glanced at him, only for a second with a watery gaze.

Slowly and as carefully as he could, Draco unwrapped your bandage, reading the words that had been carved into your hand. “Oh love, I’m sorry, I should have been there to stop it from happening.” Draco sounded like he was scolding himself as he apologised, the emotions reaching his eyes as they swam deep in worry.

“It’s alright, I knew I’d end up in detention with her eventually.” You sighed, watching as Draco gently held your hand in his. He couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make his stomach turn horribly. It sickened him to no end and part of the reason he had joined the Inquisitorial Squad in the first place was with the hopes that he might be able to protect you better from that position. Not that he would let on to that, though.

“Does it hurt still?” He asked. “It still stings a bit and it’s sore.” You told him, your eyes saddened as you looked down at the writing you had tried so hard to conceal all day, not just because you were ashamed of what Umbridge had done, but because you simply could not bear to look at it. Would it always be there? You wondered if it would serve as a constant reminder and you hoped that with time that it would fade, but you couldn’t help the worry that sat deep in your stomach that the mark would remain long after healing and you hoped at the very least, that it would not make your stomach turn every time you looked at it.

“I’m so sorry.” Draco sighed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes looking up to meet yours as you let a shy, watery smile take over. You hoped not to cry, but Umbridge and her punishment was still very fresh in your mind and you felt a horrible chill roll through you whenever you thought of it. Merlin only knew how you had managed to make it through your lesson with her without it affecting you terribly.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here, but I’m here now.” Draco whispered it so quietly as he pulled you against his side. He hated that he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again. Draco hated that he couldn’t stop Umbridge from hurting you and part of him hated himself for how weak he was for you. Did you find it strange that he was so apologetic? That he was almost loving towards you? But the worry seemed to slip from his mind when he felt you lean against him. It was moments like this that made Draco question himself. He questioned if he should continue to create distance between you, or if keeping you close was easier to keep you safe. And he questioned things like if he should find a way to help you realise that he was your soulmate like he had worked out two years ago. But he was afraid. Draco was starting to feel like that was beginning to be all too common for him to feel these days as things became more intense. The pressure from his father to do increasingly worse things that simply did not align with Draco’s morals was enough to twist his mind and now with working under Umbridge, he hoped it did not skew his true alignment and morality. It was this that he was fighting so hard to keep, because it was the one thing he could control when everyone else was insistent on pushing him into the directions they wanted him to go in.

What you didn’t know though, was that your friendship, his connection with you was more than just that to Draco. When he was around you, he didn’t feel like he had to cling on to who he was and put a mask on. He could just be himself and it relieved some of the tension and the fear.

But the question begged itself again. Am I too close to her?

“You know, Draco.” You broke the silence, the Slytherin humming in response, prompting you to continue. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for years.” You told him. And while it was somewhat true, you had known him since you both had started Hogwarts, you never really knew him until recently. Without even knowing what lay deeper in your connection to Draco, you could feel something there, you felt drawn to him.

That’s because you have, he thought. “I know what you mean. I’ve felt the same too.” Draco replied with a soft smile, only he really did know what you meant, more than you did and he wished he could tell you.

“We should go.” Draco spoke, almost in a regretful tone as he carefully and gently bandaged your hand back up. He hated that he had so little time with you, but he was thankful at least, that you were not against spending time with him. Stepping forwards, Draco checked the stairwell. “There’s no one around.” He reassured you. “See you soon.” Draco smiled sweetly at you. “I hope so.” You nodded, mirroring his smile before you stepped out of the alcove and made your way down the stairs quickly, Draco waiting several minutes before leaving, just in case.

The end of term was on it’s final stretch with one last exam to sit the following Monday for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But as the weekend came, you decided to spend at least some of it with the person you’d not been able to see nearly all year.

“Can I ask you something?” You broke the silence, Draco glancing over at you from his spot on the grass. You were both sat down by the lake, hidden by a bit of overgrown foliage and rocks. It was a part near the shore of the lake that not many people went to and it was perfect for spending a private moment with someone. “What is it?” He asked as he reached up to push his hair to the side.

“You’ll think it’s ridiculous.” You sighed, fiddling with the book that sat closed in your lap. “Nothing you say is ever ridiculous.” Draco said, looking over at you with a sweet smile and you felt yourself warm at his words. “Well in that case,” You paused, looking out over the horizon of the lake. “Do you believe in soulmates?” You posed the question as if you were terrified he’d tell you it was utter rubbish, but when you heard him give you a little hum as he thought about it, Draco leaned over a little, resting his hand on your arm to get your attention.

Meeting his gaze, his blue eyes softened when he saw how nervous you looked and he wondered if someone had told you that it was all an old wives tale.

You seemed to become more shy under his touch and Draco smiled to himself, feeling that it was sweet that you seemed to get so flustered whenever he touched you, even though it had very rarely happened.

“I do, I believe in soulmates.” He reassured you. Draco wanted, with every fibre of his being to show you his book, to tell you everything. But he didn’t. “Did someone tell you it was...” He trailed off. “Stupid? Yeah.” You huffed out. “Do you think there’s someone out there for us?” You asked, relaxing a little as Draco leaned down to gently grip your hand.

“I know there is.” Draco smiled softly.

Sometimes I wonder if I already know you, you wrote. Perhaps we do know each other, but we won’t know until we reach the end of this book, he wrote only moments later. The trundle of the train rolling over the tracks began to lull you into a sleepy state as you sat in a mostly empty carriage on the Hogwarts Express. It was the end of term and while too much had really happened for you to fully compartmentalize and process it all yet, you took solace in knowing that you could figuratively lean on your soulmate for comfort.

You told him everything you felt, almost like a journal and in turn he did the same. He detailed his thoughts, his feelings and he came to you when his day had been too much, but neither of you were too specific. You wished you knew who he was so that you could give him physical comfort, so you could both lean on each other and you wished for this even more so now that you started to wonder if you already knew him.

I promise I’ll write to you as often as I can. You scribbled it down into the book. But there came no answer. And days after you had arrived in London and returned home for the holidays, there was still no response.

If only Draco could tell you what had happened. If only he could write to you and explain it all from beginning to end. But he had no idea if he could, because his only way of communicating with you was no longer in his possession.

Previous Part | Next part

Permanent Taglist (OPEN)

@kitkatd7​ @paintballkid711​ @thesewaywardskies​ @coldlilheart​ @victorialynn7​ @pandaxnienke​ @megantje123​ @loving-life-my-way​ @chaotic-fae-queen​ @theweasleyslut​ @daltonacademia​

Guardian Taglist (OPEN):

@autumnpauley20​ @malfoysstilinski​ @indieslytherin​ @bitchinbadgers​ @saby06143 @tsukibaby​ @dracoismybabey​ @psychramt​ @dracoxmgg​ @kmhluvbot @justmesadgirl​ @thatguppienamedbae​ @dumspirospero-1​ @sofltyqoos @hopelesslymt​ @cherrytomato2​ @lipstickandloveletters​ @cedrictodeadric @andreasworlsboring101​ @buckylahey​

[acciotheomione]

48 Notts by Sheryl_Holmes

"Granger, you can’t be serious. I’m tipsy,” (understatement), “and we are in the middle of a tropical storm, hundreds of miles from the shore. If I try to Apparate now, I may just splinch myself in half.”

She splashed her hands about, at a loss. “Then do it! Have St. Mungo’s grow back the bits you leave behind, but get out of my bathroom!”

The ever-present amiable quality to Nott’s face seemed to dim into the ghost of hurt. “You don’t really hate me that much, do you?”

Hermione blinked. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Nott, I’m just—” I’m just in the bath, naked, and you’re here without invitation, this is a complete surprise, I don’t want to discuss my breakup with Ron, and, as you can see, my response here is perfectly reasonable. This is what she intended to say. What came out, instead, was: “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Link to AO3

AO3 tags below the break

Archive Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship(s): Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini

Additional tag(s): Bubble Bath, Flower Petal Bath, Bath Sharing, is that a thing?, House of Nott Discord, Hurricanes & Typhoons, Weather as a plot device, Love Confessions, Ex-Death Eater Theodore Nott, mermaid language, Linguistics as Flirting, Welsh Theo Nott, Pining, Nott Another Love Story Fic Fest 2022, Mermish