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#draco x female reader

dracowars · 1 year

Note

H!i i love your writing and i wanted to make a request can you do a draco x reader where they have a fight and then they sleep in diffrent rooms and the reader has a nightmare so she goes to dracos room and then just fluff <3

fighter | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,2k

summary: where y/n and draco sleep in separate rooms due to an argument

a/n: i wrote this in one flow in the notes of my phone (i usually write on my laptop that's also why the " are different) and i don't know what happend, but i've never written something so fast. i hope it stays that way lmao enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog, it's so important!

warnings: angst, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

"I can't believe you are being serious right now!", you scream at Draco, physically retreating from him as you take a few steps back in your anger, anger about what he just told you. The atmosphere in his big dark bedroom in Malfoy Manor doesn't help the cold that is now surrounding you, neither does your light sleeping gown that you put on mere minutes ago to finally get some well deserved sleep. That is until you got into this stupid argument.

Your whole body trembles and you desperartely run your fingers through your hair, waiting for him to tell you that it was just a joke, that none of it is real.

"I knew you wouldn't understand", is the only thing that leaves Draco's mouth and if you had been a few more meters away, you would have probably missed his murmur. But you caught every word he said and it makes you even more furious.

"Oh, so you didn't even think about telling me that you want to take your father's place among the Dark Lord's entourage? The one of your father who is currently, if I may remind you, trapped in Azkaban?!", you say while fully realizing the impact of these words. Draco really wants to become a Death Eater and follow Voldemort as his faithful footman until he decides one day that he does not need him anymore either and puts him into the same prison his father is currently residing.

"See? That's why I preferred not to tell you because I knew you would react like this", Draco only sighs at your emotional outburst, rubbing his palms against each other as he looks at the dark wooden floor beneath your feet.

"So you now support the Dark Lord? Is that it?", you ask, now directly looking at him in utter disbelieve, ignoring his previous words. In your opinion, this is the only reasonable reaction when you are told your loved one wants to basically throw his life, and everything he has accomplished, away. And you are a huge part of that life which he would discard. Just like that.

"Y/N, you are missing my point!", Draco raises his voice now too, no longer being able to withstand the hurtful words you are throwing his way. "I need to do this, alright? It is none of your business anyway."

"N-None of my business?!", you stumble over your words, not believing your ears but one look at his face tells you that he is being deadly serious. For a moment, you hold in your breath and stare at him, looking into his eyes that seem to have darkened now.

"You know what? Alright, if it is your business and you want to follow in your father's steps, then I'm not needed here anymore", you say with a fake smile on your lips, passing him without looking at him again and leaving the room with fast steps. You do not listen when he calls after you, because if he really wanted to solve this, he would follow you. The fact that he does not, sends another dagger through your already suffering heart.

Standing in one of the cold hallways of Malfoy Manor, watched by the few family pictures that hang along the walls, you make your way to the next guest room where you plan on spending the night before being able to leave first thing in the morning.

You open the creaking door and enter the room, taking a look at the large bed with dark green bedding. Sighing, you let yourself fall onto the soft blanket in defeat and look at the panaled high ceiling.

The next moment, all the emotions come crushing down on you and you let your tears run free, crying into the soft bedsheets, grapping a fistful of it in your hand. You don't know how long you just lie there and cry bitterly, but when you suddenly jolt out of your sleep, drenched in sweat, it takes you a few seconds to realize where you are. The realization hits you painfully as you lean against the headboard, knees pulled towards your chest beneath the thick blanket and your hands trembling, pulling the safety of the fabric more towards you.

You thought you had already cried out all of your tears, but this terrible nightmare paralyzed your entire body and the tears streaming down your already puffed cheeks do not seem to stop. Trembling, you lower your forehead onto your knees, closing your eyes to dispose of those bad images, but they keep appearing in front of you. Crying into the blanket even harder, your mind comes up with the only plausible solution and before you know it, you find yourself standing in front of Draco's bedroom again, slowly opening the door.

With only your head poking in at first, you squint into the darkness, searching for any indications if Draco is asleep or not. When you only hear his soft breathing, you sneak towards your side of the bed and climb beneath the cold blanket as quiet as possible, trying to sniffle your tears.

Draco, however, senses that something is wrong and shifts in his sleep, turning onto his back. His hand slightly grazes yours and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the sensation. It only takes two more seconds until Draco opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the warm trembling body next to him.

Pushing onto his arms, he looks at you, confused, but once he hears your sobs, he takes you into his arms without any words, enveloping you in his warmth. Burrying your face in the crook of his neck, your crying grows even worse and you claw his shirt as if he could disappear any second.

"I-I was so scared, D-Draco", you stutter once you have caught your breath a bit more, holding your hands in front of your mouth to stop yourself from breaking down again. "Y-You were a Death Eater and they- they took you from me. H-He killed you, Draco."

Draco, who was busy wiping away your tears while listening, stops in his movement, his lips slightly parted in shock. In this moment, he hated himself for making you cry like this, for causing you such a horrible nightmare that you ended up thinking that you had lost him.

"He won't, Y/N. I promise", Draco whispers finally, not at all sure what he is supposed to say right now. On the one hand, he wants to make everything right again, but on the other hand he knows that he has responsibilites that he can't run away from.

"You can't promise me that", you sob, wiping away your tears by yourself now, your hands still a shaking mess.

"I'm so sorry, darling, but I have to follow him", he answers, his voice shaking as he softly takes your hands in his. "Otherwise he is going to kill me. But what is worse is that he is going to kill my family. He is going to kill you if I don't obey."

As he says these words and lets down his walls, you see a single tear running down his cheek, finding its way onto your intertwined hands below.

"We- We will find a way, baby", you try to assure him, squeezing his hand lightly. "You don't have to do this. We just need to fight. For us. For your family. For you."

"I will."

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snowvies · 1 year

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 ; 𝐡𝐩

including: harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, and draco malfoy.

cw: cuddling

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

it's like you're in front of a fireplace as your slide down the warm body of your boyfriend, his arms wrap around your back as your head morphs into his chest, dark room encasing you both into a pit of drowsiness as your breathing slows down and your worries fade.

nothing can bother you at this moment. his fingers dance around your hair as he pets you like a cat while your eyes become dizzy and the dark room becomes even darker.

𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

his arms are swooped under yours like a hug that was never finished, both on your side as his cheek smushes into your head, his sleepiness radiating yards away and affects you like the strongest potion. his breathing is soft and rhythmic, like a lullaby guiding you to sleep and you give in fully.

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

your back is to her stomach as she embraces it fully, chin tucked on your shoulder as her eyes flutter in rem. eyebrows slightly furrowed as even in her sleep she's probably scolding someone. her hair smells like fresh pumpkin bread and her body feels like the oven. legs tangled and twisted but mostly forgotten about as the darkness surrounds you and your body relaxes, sleep taking over as the girl holds you tight.

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

your legs are twisted around his waist as you dig your face into his neck, pure blond hair tickling your nose as you soak in his deep scent of a musky mint.

his fingers are running down your back softly, moving over your spine as you relax into him.

there's no communication needed between you two, you feel your eyes weigh with sleepiness and feel more than ready to slip into unconsciousness with your boyfriend

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slvth3rin · 9 months

Note

Hi, I’ve never requested anything before so hope this is okay :)

Can I request a one-shot where reader is a Gryffindor in a secret relationship with Draco and she sneaks into the hospital wing to comfort him after Harry uses Sectumsempra on him?

Thank you!

I LOVE THIS PROMPT IT'S SO CUTE

WC: 860 (sorry it's short)

The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was a well-known fact within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. The two Houses clashed over the House Cup, Quidditch Tournaments, and practically every aspect of school life. It was a never-ending battle of disagreements and animosity. In the midst of it all, a forbidden love quietly flourished between you, a Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin.

Dating across Houses was not unheard of, but a relationship between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin was a rarity. Aware of the repercussions, you and Draco decided to keep your love hidden from prying eyes. Sharing stolen glances in class, brushing hands in the corridors, and stealing private moments became the essence of your relationship.

Now in your sixth year, Draco appeared distant, his troubles with his father's imprisonment weighing heavily upon him. You did your best to provide comfort and reassure him that you would stand by his side, but it seemed that the weight of his circumstances was slowly chipping away at him throughout the year.

These insecurities about your relationship plagued your thoughts as you sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, attempting to focus on your Astronomy homework alongside your classmate Ron Weasley and a few others. Suddenly, the doors swung open, and Harry Potter burst into the room, an expression of fear etched on his face. He stood before you, his body covered in blood.

Shock silenced the room as you and Ron attempted to voice your concerns. Before you could utter a single word, Harry interrupted, his voice urgent and frantic. "I need your book. Your Potions book. Quick... give it to me..."

With trembling hands, Ron handed over his potions book, and you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, "What... What happened?"

Harry's response came in a flurry of disjointed words, but your heart skipped a beat when you caught the mention of Draco amidst the chaos. "W-what about Draco?" you managed to blurt out, your concern overpowering any need to conceal your feelings for him.

Ignoring your question, Harry exclaimed, "I'll explain it later!" before hastily leaving the Common Room.

A chilling wave of fear washed over you, leaving your hands cold and trembling. Homework forgotten, anxiety gripped your every thought. Ron attempted to reassure you, his voice filled with concern, "Harry seemed okay, I'm sure it's fine-"

But Ron remained unaware of the depth of your worry, of the true identity of the person you feared for. Of course, you were relieved that Harry appeared unharmed, but the very thought of blood on him, if it wasn't his own, sent shivers down your spine, for it could only mean one thing—Draco was in danger.

After Harry returned, he shared a detailed account of his encounter with Malfoy. He described finding Draco in tears, seeking solace with Moaning Myrtle, and how he had utilized a spell from his potions book, with Snape subsequently handling the situation. While relief washed over you upon learning that Draco was going to be okay, a sense of horror lingered within, though you fought to maintain a composed façade to protect the secrecy of your relationship. As Hermione and Ginny engaged in a heated argument, your head spun with a mix of emotions. Feeling overwhelmed, you found yourself instinctively leaving the Common Room.

"Y/N?" Hermione called out, her voice filled with concern. "Where are you going? It's quite late."

"Just need some fresh air," you replied, attempting to conceal the distress evident in your voice.

Once outside the dormitory, tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you hurried towards the hospital wing. The late hour draped the corridor in silence, with Madam Pomfrey noticeably absent. Only one bed was occupied, and you stealthily entered the room.

"Y/N?" Draco's voice reached you as a whisper, laced with vulnerability. "What are you doing here?"

Offering him a tender smile, your fingers instinctively intertwined with his. "I couldn't stay away, Draco. Not when I knew you were hurting."

Draco's lips curved into a faint smile, gratitude mingling with the lines of pain etched on his face. "You always manage to find me, don't you?"

You leaned in closer, your voice barely a whisper. "That's because you're worth finding, Draco."

A moment of silence enveloped you both, stretching into what felt like an eternity. You searched for words to provide comfort when your thoughts spilled out, revealing your concern. "I heard that you were... crying. To Myrtle?"

Instantly, Draco's defenses rose, his tone defensive. "Did Potter tell you that? I mean, it's utterly absurd—"

Cutting him off, you gently caressed his cheek, your touch a soothing balm against his troubled spirit. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that if you ever need to talk, cry, or anything... I'm here. I'm your girlfriend, you know."

You smiled reassuringly, watching as a glimmer of moisture pooled in his eyes. Slowly, he sat up, his lips finding yours. The stars dancing across the sky where all that witnessed your romance. In the hushed stillness of the Hospital Wing, the moon cast a glow upon his features, rendering him ethereal.

As your lips parted, he whispered almost inaudibly, "Thank you."

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco #draco malfoy imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco x female reader

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louvemione · 6 months

Text

illicit affairs (part two) — d. malfoy (draco's pov)

synopsis : Draco watched as Y/n slowly walked out of his life and wonders why their relationship is considered illicit.

warning/s : angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, profanity, written in first person, pureblood! reader (this isn't really important & would only be implied)

author's note : like promised, here is part two of illicit affairs 🥳 but i feel like i didn't write it properly 🥲 hopefully, you guys get the message i'm trying to get through!

<- part one | part three ->

leave the perfume on the shelf

that you picked out just for him

sixth year

"why is it that you no longer wear your signature perfume? I used to love it" that was probably a dumb and unnecessary question to ask

but can you blame me? I just need the slightest reasons and I would gladly start a conversation with her. as crazy as it sounds, I'd most definitely take every opportunity to talk to her.

she was silent for a moment, luckily it was only us sitting by the fire, "there's absolutely no reason for me to wear it but i'm glad you loved it"

i hate this. i hate the awkward silence between me and her, i hate that she's distancing herself from me and i hate that i am pretty much aware of it, i hate not being able to tell her how much i adore her, i hate not being true to myself, i hate—

"i'll go to my dorms now, it was nice talking to you" she didn't wait for my response and continued to walk to her dormitory, i hate when she's formal, it's as if we weren't friends.

so you leave no trace behind

like you don't even exist

"good morning!" I say, rather awkwardly than I hoped for it to

"hello, Draco" she smiled and walked past me

I watched her retreating figure like I always do now that she tries to cut every interaction short.

I hate it.

I hate it when she acts as if nothing ever happened between us. I hate that she no longer wears her perfume. I hate that she's slowly starting to slip past my finger tips.

I fucking hate it.

because she was leaving my life, slowly. so slow that I could see her disappear bit by bit. like, she was packing her things to move else where.

from her presence, to her perfume. it's as if she never even existed with how carefully everything connecting to her disappeared from my life.

take the words for what they are

a dwindling, mercurial high

"you look gorgeous" I whispered, hoping that it was loud enough for y/n to hear, hoping that she knew that it was directed at her, not Astoria.

I felt guilty for dancing with my soon-to-be wife and wishing it was y/n I'm holding.

soon enough, when Harry and Y/n stopped dancing, I excused myself.

"I'll go out for a moment" not waiting for Astoria's reply, I started walking away. I walked behind Y/n, grazing my hand against her waist in the process, hoping that she gets the message.

and that's how we ended up in the restricted section of the library, where we spent the next hour hugging and exchanging kisses and i love you's while looking through the different books in the shelves.

i love you, looking back, I started to wonder whether or not she took my words seriously.

"impossible! he can't...actually mean it!"

but according to the conversation I overheard, she took it as a dwindling, mercurial high.

a drug that only worked

"we're okay, we'll figure this out together, but let's not think of that for now" my kisses were denied when she pushed my head away and sat up.

"we all know we can't do anything about it" she argued and pushed me off, "listen, baby, we shouldn't restrict ourselves from loving who we want and I definitely won't spend my life married to someone I don't love, so believe me, I'll do something about it"

"but you two are set for marriage—"

"but I love you, not her" she stayed silent and I smiled, "so, do you trust me?"

"yeah, of course, I do"

the first few hundred times

"do you not trust me?!"

"NO! I FUCKING DON'T!"

and that's the thing about illicit affairs

and clandestine meetings and stolen stares

illicit? our relationship is nowhere near illicit.

it's not wrong to love someone, what's wrong is to pretend to love someone.

if it were Astoria I'm in a relationship with, that's illicit. but y/n? why would our relationship be illicit? because I'm bound to marry someone I don't want to marry?

"you okay, mate?" only then did I realize that I have been gripping my knife so tightly as I watched as she laughed with Saint Potter.

"we know you've been...feeling bad since she ended things with you but—"

"I just don't understand! why now? why—"

"why not now, Draco? did you think she'd want to wait 'til your wedding before breaking it off?"

"there will be no wedding!"

"oh I wouldn't be so sure if I were you" Daphne says, "my mum wrote to me this morning and mentioned that they might start planning yours and Astoria's wedding, if I were you, I'd start getting into action"

I spent the rest of supper thinking and secretly staring at y/n, who seemed to be doing the same.

they show their truth one single time

"i love you"

but they lie, and they lie, and they lie

"do you love me, still?" I say, not too bothered by the students who I knew were eavesdropping in our conversation

"as a friend, yeah"

we both know she's lying. and I know she's aware of the fact that I know she's lying.

a million little times

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btsbabe7 · 4 months

Text

November Prompt 18: Crown

Words: 594 | Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

There’s a surreal feeling that washes over you as you descend the castle stairs into the entrance of the Yule Ball. You hadn’t told a single soul about your date. In fact, as far as all your friends knew, you had no intentions of attending. But here you are in a pearly gown with silvery lace trim hand-sewn against the white silk. Your curly hair is styled in a slightly messy updo that you’d practiced for weeks until it was perfected, and a dainty, single emerald stone bracelet, gifted by your date clings to your right wrist. All the planning had finally led you to this very moment.

In the midst of the first dance coming to a close, an applause breaks through the room, then you spot your date breaking through the crowd. Heads turn and there seems to be whispering amongst the crowd, but not over the music. Just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, Draco’s arm links around yours. A vest and bowtie accompany the snowy white button-up that hugs his thin torso. His platinum hair is parted perfectly down the side and tucked behind each ear to fully display his dashing features. He looks absolutely amazing, even more than he does on the day to day, if you do say so yourself. And soon, the gaze of other students follow the two of you through the crowd where Draco pulls you in close for a slow dance.

“Ignore the whispers,” he breathes, pulling your wandering gaze for your friends back to him. “You look beautiful tonight and I won’t let anyone ruin this for us.” His brows raise to make sure you understand and you smile softly and nervously.

You had planned to attend the ball with Draco almost a month ago in the secrecy of your meetings in the Astronomy Tower. If everything went as planned, the entire school would be in shock at the news of you and Draco attending together, despite the existing rumors of his growing crush on you. And the whispers tonight have proved just that. Even Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Dumbledore, the Headmaster himself, had done double takes when Draco’s arm reached out for you at the entrance moments ago.

“Draco,” you mutter softly, keeping your eyes on his to stay focused. “What do we do when they see? My friends, when they notice?”

He chuckles softly and pulls you closer, gently stroking your reddened cheek.

“Then let them notice. You look beautiful. You spent so much effort planning and perfecting the perfect. Just focus on this. Don’t let your crown slip.”

You smile widely at his comment and just because you’re happy to finally be in his arms in the midst of everyone. There’s whispers and stares and even pointing, but you stay focused on Draco. It all feels like a relief compared to the fear that came with sneaking out to meet in hiding in The Astronomy Tower every night. You know your friends are somewhere with their own dates and that their curiosity about you and Draco will soon be a topic of conversation, but none of that matters now in a place where you should feel the most confident.

Draco spins you around one last time at the close of the song, and with a smile, he caresses your cheeks.

“We’ll have the best night of our lives, my queen. I promise,” he breathes before placing a soft kiss on your forehead that leaves you grinning from ear to ear, and tonight, you truly feel like royalty.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

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turvi · 10 months

Note

Scotland Yard: Send me an au or a scenario, and I will write a fic for you.

Draco Malfoy and falling in love with a muggle.

Like after the war he settles in a nice muggle neighborhood and makes friends with the kind neighbour next door who ofc isn't aware of magic and then he finds himself falling for her.

Happy ending please cuz <33

LUCKY CHARM

WARNING: CANON DEATH, ANGST, KISSING

Draco entered his temporary and desolate house. The air in the house was colder than the air outside. It was contrasting the blossoming colours of spring outside. It was dark and cold. He immediately closed the door. Even though no one will recognise him here, he fears being identified.

He quickly settled in. He had brought minimum luggage with him. What was the point of carrying his belongings where he didn't belong?

Draco moved his belongings into what would be his bedroom. His eyes fell on the mirror. He no longer recognised the person he had become. His older self was a distant memory. His face looked ashen, his eyes colder than before.

He sat on the bed, contemplating whether he should check up on his parents, but he couldn't even bring himself to move. Draco looked out of the window. The muggles cheerfully chat and walk unbeknownst to the jeopardy that the wizarding world had fallen into. Yes, Harry managed to kill The Dark Lord. But at what cost.

Three days ago, he had found himself in front of the Burrow. His jaw clenched, and his fingers twitched. He didn't really know why he was here. What he had done could not be forgotten by a simple apology. But he found himself grieving Fred's death. It was his fault he was dead. They wouldn't want to see him, especially George. Yes, he would actively show his dislike for the Weasleys, but he still grieved that they lost their child. And George lost his twin. He can't imagine what he must be going through.

Suddenly he looked up to see Molly had spotted him, and she was making her way to the front door. But when she opened it, he was gone.

Two months later, Draco was finally able to leave the house. The sunlight felt brighter than usual, or maybe the solitude was getting the better of him. He kept his head down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

He tried looking for shops that had fewer customers. Within the next ten steps, he found a cafe. It looked brand new. In fact, it was so new it looked like he was the first customer.

The cafe looked cosy. He observed the artwork that was on the wall. It suited the minimalist look of the cafe.

"You want something?." Draco flinched and turned to see a girl beside him. Her apron was covered in flour and chocolate, he smelled a hint of vanilla off of her, and the dim light above her made her look angelic. Even though she looked his age but the bright smile on her lips made her look a few years younger.

"Uh...no, I am...I am just looking around." Draco thought his response was good. He wanted to remain forgettable. He kept his eyes on the paintings despite his earlier distaste for them. But he couldn't pay attention to them. The scent of vanilla grew stronger.

He realised she was closer, looking at the paintings too. She was still smiling. That made Draco frown. She cleared her throat. "Let me know if you need anything. I will be behind the counter. Not like I can go anywhere." She awkwardly smiled. He didn't want her to stop smiling. She felt like a breath of fresh air. The scent of vanilla on her didn't help either.

Draco looked at the delicious treats that were on display. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. His stomach grumbled. The girl wordlessly went behind the counter to reheat a chocolate pastry.

"Here." She handed him the dessert with a sweet smile. Draco offered his own little smile as he ate the pastry. His eyes fluttered, and he stifled a moan. Being the only heir to the Malfoy family, he had access to all kinds of luxuries. He had tasted all kinds of expensive and imported desserts, but they all failed in front of this simple pastry.

"Did you like it?" As much as she tried to hide it, Draco was still able to detect a sense of insecurity in her, a feeling he was too familiar with. And while Draco had initially thought to just pay for her efforts and leave but he felt wrong to go without saying anything.

"It's actually good," Draco told her, avoiding looking into her eyes. "When did you open this shop?" he asked nervously, but her sweet smile and calm voice eased him up.

"Last week. And you are my first customer." Draco couldn't help but smile at her optimism.

"Well, I am sure you will get more customers." As soon as he said that they heard the door creak open and an elderly woman slowly made her way to the counter.

"Hi...do you sell cookies?" she asked sweetly, and the girl excitedly nodded before she went into the kitchen. The old lady smiled at Draco, and he smiled back. But Draco frowned. He felt like he had seen this old lady before. He couldn't remember where. Suddenly he felt her cold, wrinkly hand on his cheek. "It's not your fault."

Draco forgot how to breathe for a second and saw as the girl came back and handed the lady cookies. He looked at her wide-eyed as she sweetly thanked the girl and went away like nothing happened. Leaving Draco in his thoughts.

Weeks went by, and the crowd in her cafe grew. Drace was one of them. He was a regular now. He often had a craving for her sweet treats. He eventually learnt her name when he accidentally spilt his coffee on her counter when she opened her hair to relieve the pain in her scalp from holding it in a bun all day.

"Y/n L/n, such a sweet name." he smiled at her as he helped her clean her counter. Even their conversations were regular now. It took him time to open up to her, but eventually, she became his sunlight after a dark storm.

"Thank you, I like your name too. It's unique." she looked up to see him looking at her lips and immediately looking away. She felt her cheeks warm but didn't point out that she caught him staring. Y/n wanted him to be comfortable around her and not overwhelm him with her blooming romantic feelings for him.

"Oh, I have a new dish on my menu. Wanna try it?" Y/n excitedly offers, wanting to impress the blonde man.

"Only if I get a discount." Draco cheekily smiled, and that was the first time she saw him come out of his shelf. She smirked, and Draco thought she couldn't look more beautiful. "Better you are getting it for free."

"Why am I special?" he asked as he leaned on the counter, trying to look smug, yet internally he was shaking nervously. "Nah, just my guinea pig."

He liked the sound of being hers. The amount of time he had spent here in her company, where he knew at first he was an insufferable twat, but her patience and kindness and her sweet treats had slowly broken down the walls he had created.

"Would you like to go out someday?" Draco was surprised at his own confidence. He tightly gripped the counter, anticipating her rejection, when her sweet voice comforted him again. "I would love that. Where are you thinking?"

He was immediately at a loss for words. "Uh...uhm...nowhere...really. I was thinking maybe we could explore the town. I haven't been outside in a while, so maybe you could take me to your favourite spots?"

"Ok, tomorrow after I close the cafe?"

Draco nodded. "Yep, it's a date." he quickly walked towards the door, his heart healing at the sound of her giggles.

The mirror in his room now showed a different reality. His face looked healthier. His smile dropped for a minute as the thought of his parents crossed his mind. He will talk to them. But not now. Today he will spend time with Y/n.

When he got out of his house, he immediately spotted her. She smiled when she saw him. Her appearance felt brighter than the sunlight. Does she know she is beautiful? That when she is in front of him, he forgets about the world and his problems.

He swallowed thickly when she got closer. He fixed his hair and clothes, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

"Ohh, what a gentleman." his breathing got heavier when he felt her gentle touch on his arm. He didn't deserve her. She didn't know the crimes he had done. She doesn't know the person he was in the wizarding world. For her, he was just another man. But she will stop smiling at him when she knows what he has done.

His train of thought was stopped when he felt her warm palm on his arm, her eyes focused only on him. He wanted to cry, beg for forgiveness but he felt too numb to even move.

"Are you ok? It's alright if you changed your mind about this."

His eyes teared up to see that she really meant what she said. Y/n took his hands in her hands looking up at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I...I am sorry I just need some time. I am ok." He will tell her when the time is right and he knew he can trust her as he watched her smile assuredly at him.

"We don't need to rush. I am here for you."

He watched her eyes flutter as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Draco cupped her cheek looking into her eyes "Thank you so much." He gently brushed his nose with hers. "Can I?"

"Please"

Draco heard her breath hitch when gently kissed her lips, now cupping her face with both his hands, his heart overpowering his brain as he deepened the kiss when he felt her kiss back. They broke the kiss breathlessly looking into each other's eyes. "I'm sorry"

She smiled and pecked his lips. "Don't be, I like this. I like you."

Draco smiled widely. "Would mind if I kissed you again?"

She smirked. "I would if you won't."

And he did. He didn't know what he felt for her, or what it was but he felt ready to figure out his feelings for Y/n. He hugged her and wondered what was in store for them now?

A/N: I probably hinted at part 2 oh well let me know if you want that. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

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malfoylust · 11 months

Text

malfoy manor ༉‧₊˚✧

draco malfoy smut

oral sex [fem receiving] | draco fluff / we love a consent king | ice cream foreplay??

You think you are going to the malfoy manor to study but draco wants to show you what real passion is. no interruptions…just you and him alone. you’re going to experience the greatest pleasure you will ever know. [just imagine HIS HANDS all over your body]

⋆*･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You and draco have been studying in his bedroom for the hours. Snape has a defense against the dark arts exam coming up and you are struggling. Draco knew you were struggling in snape’s class so he offered to tutor you.

(You are sitting with your legs crossed on Draco’s bed, while draco sits in a chair at his desk)

You slam the books down on his comforter. (So soft. You would love to get comfy in his bed WITH him…if you know what I mean)

You sighed and looked across the room where draco was reviewing notes at his desk.

“Why cant I understand this. I’m going to fail.”

Your eyes started to slowly fill with tears, as you got more frustrated with yourself.

Draco motioned for you to come over to him.

You want to make out with him so badly, but you don’t know if he likes you like that. In your mind you’re just a girl draco is forced to Tudor. You don’t think there’s anything special there.

You walk over to draco and rested your hand on his desk and shrugged. “I just don’t know what else to do.”

“Why don’t you get a snack and take a break. I have something in mind that may help ease your stress,” Draco said.

As your mind raced with all the possibilities you had in mind, your face was flushed. You turned away quickly and walked to the kitchen.

༻¨*:·.

You found a pint of ben and jerries ice cream in the freezer.

As you sat at the dining room table eating ice cream, you feel cold finger tips on your neck, moving your hair to the other side of your neck.

You shiver as you hear a familiar voice whisper in your ear, “don’t worry love. I feel those things for you too”

Your face gets red and hot as you hear his voice again.

“You want to share?”

You feel your chair move back and see draco walk in front of you, looking down at you. He is standing over you.

[I cant get over his height. He’s so fine]

Your eyes drop from his eyes to see his white collared shirt is completely unbuttoned, revealing his bare chest and abs.

Draco grabs a spoon and dips it into the ice cream you are holding and takes a bite.

You bite your lip, as you watch him suck the ice cream off the spoon.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You dip your spoon into the ice cream and stand up.

“You’re beau-“ draco is cut off by you sliding ice cream from his mouth, down to his chest…his abs.

You feel him grab your hand, making you drop your spoon on the ground.

“Kiss me draco,” you whisper seductively.

You feel malfoys lips clash into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck as he picks you up.

(Your legs wrapping around his waste)

.·:*¨༺

He carried you back to his room and placed you on his bed.

You let out a soft moan as malfoy started to gently kiss your neck.

As his big hands caressed your hips, he unbuttons your blouse, revealing your bralette.

Almost out of breath, you say, “I want you to go down on me dra-“

You gasped as malfoy leaves trails of wet kisses down your neck, down your breasts, down to your bare stomach.

Once you feel his hot breath at your stomach you gasped and tell him to stop.

(He can tell you were a little insecure about him being so close to your stomach)

Draco hovered over you, with his face over yours.

His gorgeous blonde hair resting above his grey eyes.

[ugh he’s so cute. I can picture him right now ugh]

He smirked, “you don’t have to hide from me. Let me make you feel special.”

You nodded, “okay”

He continued and you helped him unclip your bra.

As he left love bites down your breast and stomach, you feel his hands gently pull down your pants…

You help him take off your pants as you feel his warm breath get closer to your pulsing pussy, just waiting to be mouth fucked.

You tilt your head back, eager for draco to suck your clit.

You watch as draco pulls down your underwear.

“Are you wet for me, my sweet dove?” Malfoy bites his lip while looking up at you.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

A soft moan fell from your lips, “yes.”

Malfoys lips start to passionately kiss your already soaked pussy. He moans as he inserts his tongue into your cunt.

Giving you the greatest pleasure you could ever imagine….

You moan dracos name loud as you feel his tongue go in circles around your clit.

Malfoy begins to suck on your cunt, making you a moaning mess.

You run your fingers through dracos hair and pull slightly as you get to a climax.

Draco’s moans makes your pussy vibrate, as he mouth fucks your wet cunt.

Your body comes to a hot climax, leaving your body shaking.

You are cumming in Draco’s mouth, while he keeps sucking you dry. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Dra-a-co-“ you moan.

Malfoy finally let’s you completely climax.

Malfoy lies next to you and tells you, “i think I’m falling for you.”

⋆*･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Hi guys! I hope you all loved this one. He’s so hot. And that’s all I gotta say 🤍

🫧 I’m taking requests for draco smuts ! requirements: draco x fem

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #harry potter smut #draco fic #draco smut #draco x female reader #malfoy manor #Spotify

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sinfulslytherin · 11 months

Text

A Quiet Night

Summary: The Students of Hogwarts have to spend the night in the great hall. You sleep between Draco and your boyfriend, who seems to be more busy with Daphne. And Draco seems to be more interested in you...

Trigger warning: mature content, sexual content, degrading, public sexual activities

Graham,Blaise,Pansy,Daphne,Adrian, Draco and I stand infront of 7 sleeping.

Pansy and Blaise obviously sleep next to each other since they are in a relationship. Daphne instantly jumps onto the sleeping bag on the other side of Pansy in order to sleep next to her. The two if them seem to be reqlly good friends now.

Graham obviously wants to sleep next to Daphne.

Since Adrian sleeps in the sleeping bag next to Blaise, my only option is to sleep between Graham and Draco.

Graham doesn't seem to bother that blondie will sleep only a few inches away from me. Probably because he is busy with Daphne.

We lay down and the lights get dimmer and dimmer until the room is full of darkness. The only weak light that we get is the moon light that shines through the huge windows of the great hall.

I can hear Graham and Daphne chat for a long time. They talk about Quidditch,classes and even past relationships.

At least he didn't talk about me.

I already know that I won't be able to sleep.

It gets completly quiet after some time and I feel like everyone is asleep.

I can't hear Daphnes annoying voice anymore. I can't hear anyones voice. It seems peaceful.

I suddenly feel Graham lean over to me.

I take back the 'peaceful' part.

"I need you...please..." He whispers in my ear as he starts to leave light kisses on my neck. The kisses feel like small needles that poke into my skin.

I know he's probably horny because he is next to Daphne.

"But-" I try to talk my way out but it's no use.

"Amara, now. Please." He begs.

I don't know why but I follow his plead.

Probably because I hope that I'll be able to eat properly tomorrow.

My hand wanders down between his legs.

My hand squeezes his already hard member and I can feel him twitch in my hand.

I turn off my thoughts and just concentrate on the movement of my hand.

I don't even have to pray for a quick finish as I can feel him already being close.

He pushes my hand away and I see that he uses some napkins to prevent a mess.

Well. That was fast.

Graham was never the best in bed. He looks out for himself and doesn't bother to help the other one finish.

"Thank you, Da-

Amara." Graham mumbles already half asleep as he gives me a half hearted kiss on my forehead.

I internally scoff.

He seriously just wanted to call me Daphne.

I know who you pretend I am, Graham.

I hear snoring next to me and know that Graham is definitly asleep now.

I chuckle bitterly and ignore the few small tears that build up in my eyes. I know he doesn't love me but it's hard to unlove someone when they gave you your first time...even when it sucked.

He saw me in such a vunerable state.

It's hard to realize that I won't experience something real with someone else because Graham has my hands tied. He's my future.

I probably would've declined but he could have at least asked if I want to...too.

"Didn't even try to return the favor. Asshole." I quietyly curse under my breath.

I decide that I should try to sleep as well.

♤•♤•♤•♤•♤•♤•♤•♤•♤•♤•♤•♤

It's hard for me to fall asleep and the only thing that I get is a weird state of being half asleep and half awake. I start to feel hot after one hour of trying to sleep so I jump out of the sleeping bag and ly myself on it just like Draco and Graham did.

I feel myself getting more tired again and hope that I finally fall asleep.

Unfortunately, it's only a microsleep that washes over me.

I feel myself snuggle into someone or something as soon as I seem to regain my senses. I lay on my side and my hands lightly hold onto some fabric,

I think.

A smell of mint and cologne hits my noise as I snuggle even further into the unknown thing. I feel a hand on my head which strokes my hair lightly.

A light smile spreads across my lips.

I'd say that this feels like home.

But unlike home,

This feeling actually makes me feel safe.

I stay like this for a few more minutes before I feel the urge to switch position.

I always sleep on my side, so I just turn around in my half asleep state and make sure that I still feel the presence of the unknown someone against my back in order to get comfort.

I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into a feeling of consolation, forgetting the war inside my head. I start to shift further backwards.

I suddenly hear a low groan as I do so.

I don't think much of it and try to find a comfortable sleeping position as I move my hips.

My movement stops as I feel a hand grab my hip in order to prevent me from moving.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Caddel?"

My breath hitches and I feel the tiredness leave my body.

I was just snuggling into Draco Malfoy.

I was just rubbing my ass against

Draco

Malfoy.

I try to push myself away from him as I accidentally touch his clothed dick with my hand.

He groans again.

"Don't touch my dick unless you plan on doing something with it."

I gasp as I remove my hand in a swift movement and freeze on the spot.

"Seems like your body is frustrated, huh?" Draco asks as he whispers in my ear.

"What do you mean?" I ask while I try to sound not too nervous.

"You know what I mean. Do you seriously think I didn't hear everything?"

Draco asks.

I feel my cheeks burn up as I realize that Malfoy must have witnessed the whole situation with Graham.

Not only the handjob I gave him,

but also my cursing about him not making me cum.

My last three working braincells decide to ignore him and move back over to my sleeping bag.

My body moves over in a swift motion and my back still faces Draco.

I shut my eyes tightly and hope that he'll just go back to sleep.

But my hopes are shattered as I suddenly feel two hands grab my hips and pull me backwards.

My butt comes in contact with Dracos crotch and my eyes widen as I feel something hard against me.

My breath hitches.

"Are you trying to ignore me again?" He asks in a teasing voice as he pushes his hard member harder into my backside.

I feel myself falling into arousal as I start to rub my thighs together.

"Let me give you what he can't." Is the last thing he whispers before his hand slowly start to travel to my pants.

His lips touch my the skin behind my ear and he starts to lightly kiss it before he sucks on the skin. I can feel his hard member pressing against my butt as he does so. It gets harder to breath and I have to hold back moans.

I nervously look around as I panic that someone might see us.

Before entering my pants he asks if I want him to touch me.

I nod.

"Words. I need a verbal consent, Sweet girl." He says as his finger play with the waistband of my pyajama pants.

"Yes,please." I lightly moan.

I feel his hand wander between my thighs in a painful slow pace. I whine and start to squirm under his touch.

"Be patient."

His fingers lightly brush over my soaked panties and a chuckle escapes his lips.

"Already that wet for me?"

He slides my panties aside and his middle finger enters me. A moan escapes my lips.

"You gotta be quiet, little girl. What do you think would happen if Graham saw you like that?" Draco asks with a mocking tone.

He adds another finger, curves them and strokes my walls. I feel myself tighten around his long fingers.

He starts to thrust his fingers in and out

-hitting my spot everytime.

"You like that, don't you? Me touching you." Draco whispers in my ear as my eyes shut tightly, scared that a loud moan might escape my lips.

"Imagine what my cock could do." Draco says as he thrusts his fingers at an even faster pace.

Suddenly Graham starts to squirm in his sleep. I freeze and try to move away from Draco but he holds me in place.

His fingers are still moving inside me but in a slower pace.

"Scared that Graham might find out what a slut you are for me? How you melt under my touch?" Draco whispers.

"You are going to take it until you cum all over my fingers. I don't care if he wakes up." He says before moving his fingers hit my spot again.

A quiet whimper slips from my lips.

I look over to Graham to see him still fully asleep.

"Keep your eyes on me."

My eyes wander back to his.

"Good girl." He growls in my ear and sends butterflies to my stomach

...and pussy.

I clench around his fingers as I feel my orgasm approaching.

My breath hitches.

"I-Im gonna cum Draco..." i moan a bit louder as it gets harder and harder for me to keep quiet.

Dracos other hand finds my mouth and enters his fingers for me to suck on.

"That'll be my cock next time."

My eyes roll back as I suck on his fingers imagining how Dracos cock would taste like.

My orgasm rolls over me as I bite down on his fingers in order to reduce the urge of letting out a final loud moan.

Or so I thought it would be my final...

—————————————————————————————————

Ready for round two and some fluff afterwards?-Read the whole Chapter here <3

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lavender-romancer · 5 months

Text

The Astronomy Tower

Part One Draco Malfoy x Potter Reader

Even though you were Harry's twin you led very separate lives, different friends, and different focuses but one thing you had in common was that Draco Malfoy couldn't stand you. Or at least he acted like that…

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

When Harry got his Hogwarts letter you were surprised to see you didn't also receive one. He said it must have been a mistake andager wrote to you saying that you couldn't be a squib, it just didn't seem like you. You and Harry had always been together, you couldn't remember a time where you weren't but when Harry entered his second year you received a letter from Albus Dumbeldore himself through Harry. He detailed how it hadn't been the right time for you to join the wizarding world but that it soon would be.

You joined the school the following year as a third year and you were already behind. In addition to that stress, you were often seen as the same novelty Harry was when he first arrived. “A Potter twin?”, “Where has she been all this time?”. You learnt to ignore it and decided to meld into the student body as well as you could. You didn't struggle, like Harry when he first began learning magic you showed a great and immediate proficiency. Some said even better than Harry himself.

You kept to yourself for the first few months with late nights in the library being a regular occurrence, learning every charm you could to speed up the process whether that was to carry books or write notes. It didn't take as long as you expected, given that the first three years at Hogwarts were not as advanced. You had a particular penchant for defense against the dark arts and adored astronomy- often finding yourself staring up at stars more than anything else.

After your ability began to show you expanded into the quidditch team and this was your first experience with Draco. After you and Harry had fought for an appropriate amount of time about who would be the Gryffindor seeker during the first game of the season against Slytherin, Oliver Wood had to step in and tell you to “pull yourselves together and flip a knut”.

After three rounds you eventually won and gave a smug smile in Harry's direction. The game was going well for both teams but, always ambitious, you wanted that snitch. You'd never met Draco before now, only heard stories or seen him around sometimes, but that game you were chasing one another in and out of the structures of the Quidditch ground. It was exhilarating as you followed the white hair of the boy in front of you, at one point the both of you ended up above the ground looking down for the snitch. There was a moment when you looked at eachother and it was oddly quiet, looking just past Draco you saw a glint of gold and moved towards him as he looked dumbfounded as you got closer. But you reached out and caught the snitch just past his ear, raising your eyebrow at him and smiling.

From that moment on you were convinced Draco wanted you dead. It wasn't without reason, you enjoyed showing him up after all the bullying of your brother. But he didn't start retaliating until you got into fifth year.

When Draco became a member of the God awful Inquisitorial Squad, he would not leave you alone. When you were slightly late for a class, ate in the library or anything else he would dock you house points. When one day you were using a charm to carry more books and accidentally bumped into him, he took 20 house points! You'd finally had enough of him and decided that in your next class you would partner up with him and ruin his life.

Your next opportunity was a potions class you got to incredibly early. You stood at the desk Draco always worked at, a little etching on the top of the table reading DM 1994 made you smirk to yourself. When Draco finally got to the class he looked incredibly confused why you were sitting where his partner Blaise usually did but let it slide-assuming you wouldn't dare break any rules.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” He asked with a venom in his voice you didn't have the energy to muster.

“Wanted to be closer to the blackboard.” You smiled sweetly at him, hoping he would let his guard down. He looked at you curiously but sat down next to you all the same.

Snape wanted you to create a Wiggenweld Potion which for a class of fifth years was not complicated and more muscle memory. Making it the perfect time to sabotage Malfoy, messing up a simple potion would surely ruin his day and perhaps be explosive…

As you all got started you pretended to look over your textbook whilst pulling your wand out of your sleeve and whispering the confundus charm. You coughed after doing it to try and disguise it as much as you could but as the charm took effect Draco looked too focussed on his “great new idea to make this potion”. If you had done the charm correctly Draco's cauldron would soon be bubbling over and then become slightly explosive, if he just added a bit more flobberworm mucus and turned up the heat.

“Malfoy, it's bubbling over!” Goyle exclaimed almost on cue.

“Shut it! I know what I'm doing!” The ever obstinate Draco insisted. He added 4 more drops of the mucus and then you were both thrust backwards with the strength of the explosion that occurred. An acute explosion of force just as you had planned. You didn't realise the force would send you both back into a wall or that it would hurt so much, but regardless you got what you wanted.

“Malfoy!” Snape bellowed at the top of his voice his cloak billowing in his wake as he approached the two of you.

“Y/n!” Harry called as he ran over to you, crouching at your side he pulled you to your feet and sat you down at his potion station. “What happened?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing….” You tried to hide your smug look but couldn't help it and Harry rolled his eyes.

“It's because of the house points isn't it?” He looked at you with a smirk and you nodded. “Sir, may I take my sister to the infirmary, she feels dizzy?”

“Yes, yes. I need to deal with this ridiculousness here anyways.” Snape looked down at Draco who was sitting against the wall with a spattering of orange over his face.

“You're diabolical.” Harry told you as you left the classroom, he couldn't help but laugh.

“Well, he shouldn't have crossed someone as clever as me, Hermione would have done the same.” You shrugged.

“Will he know it was you?” Harry sat down on a bench at the bottom of the nearest staircase.

“Even if he does he can't prove it, I was in the blast too so how silly would it look if he complained about me. It was his poor potion making skills.” running a hand over your face you looked down at your orange palm, “Oh shit, is my face-”

“Orange. Yes,” Harry burst out laughing and you punched his arm. “I was wondering how long it would take to notice.”

Later that evening you put on the invisibility cloak that you and Harry shared and headed to the astronomy tower. It was a regular occurrence for you but especially when you couldn't sleep, you had never got into any trouble or even really seen anyone but with Umbridge about the worthwhile to take the cloak.

You stared up at the stars, dreaming of Hippogriffs and Thestrals as you gazed. It felt like the only peaceful part of the whole school, even more so than your door room- that you shared with someone who sometimes sounded like a troll as she slept. Breathing in and out deeply you relaxed your brain and let it go blank for a moment

“Well, doesn't my luck just overflow. Another Potter copying me.” You jumped out of your skin but clamped a hand over your mouth so you didn't scream.

“Malfoy! What the fuck?” You hissed and he raised an eyebrow.

“She speaks! My potion saboteur has a voice?” He took a few steps closer to you until you were meters away from one another.

“Potion saboteur? I was caught in that blast too! Or had you forgotten I was injured due to your idiocy?” You lied, surprisingly convincingly.

“You're really going to stick with that?” Draco asked as he took another step closer.

“What else would I say?” You learnt backwards onto the railings.

“Well I know you charmed me, I wouldn't fuck up such a basic potion like that.” Draco walked up to the railings and looked out on the Black Lake.

“Why are you here, Malfoy?” You felt it was acutely important to change the subject.

“I come here every now and then. Used to be my private little haunt but I see you've infiltrated that.” His voice didn't sound angry, just that he was observing your behavior.

“Do you think you own every part of the school!” You said loudly, finally exasperated.

“I could own all of it if I fancied it!” Draco returned even louder.

Then a door opened and the two of you went wide eyed. Thinking as quick as you could you pulled Draco closer to you and wrapped you in the invisibility cloak. In your haste you had tripped backwards and pulled Draco with you, he was basically sitting on you. Professor Sinastra came upstairs from her office and looked around for a bit but soon went back down. You pushed Draco off you and he let out a very displeased noise.

“Did you really have to sit on me?” You hissed, taking off the cloak and holding it bunched up in one hand.

“So the Potters have an invisibility cloak?” Draco raised his eyebrow again and it enraged you.

“I will end you Malfoy,” you stood and stepped closer to Malfoy until you were almost chest to chest. The anger in your blood was beginning to be replaced by a feeling in your stomach you didn't get too often.

“I would love to see you try.” He whispered, his lips parting slightly. You noticed how his hair shone in the moonlight and you felt like making a comment that it looked like he was balding but you chose not too.

“I might be quieter than my brother but do not mistake that for a lack of experience.” You turned to leave but Malfoy put his hand on your hip and turned you back to him.

“If you want to meet me back here again, I wouldn't oppose it.” It was a tone of voice you had never heard him use before, like for the first time he was afraid of rejection.

“Why would you want to meet me here?” You asked, not resisting his hand.

“I think you're bright enough to figure it out.” he said softly before squeezing your waist and walking off.

next part

#draco angst #draco malfoy story #draco fic #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy angst #draco x female reader #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n

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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years

Text

ARMS OF A STRANGER

Summary: You don’t believe you can ever go back to being “just friends” with Draco.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader (fwb!!), Slight Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.1kish

Warnings: Idiots in love, crying, arguments, yelling, let me know??

A/N: hi!!!! It’s finally done! Well, part 3!! I hope you guys enjoy it. I appreciate all the love I’ve gotten to the last 2 parts. I’m overjoyed, honestly. I’m so happy to see all of you loving this series as much as I love writing it. 🫶🏻 please read the first two parts before this one!! (linked below) Song inspiration for this one “Arms of a stranger” by Niall Horan!

Also hit 300 followers recently 🥺🫶🏻 thank you!!

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Series Masterlist

You look around Cedric’s room, your palms are sweating, and your heart feels as if it might burst in your chest.

Cedric is going around the room, tidying up as he profusely apologizes for the mess, but honestly there is none. He goes to the corner of one side and starts playing a record on his record player.

You try not to snicker when the soft, romantic music starts playing slowly. It’s a song you had never heard before, but it was nice. He was trying to be romantic.

You start biting the skin around your nails in anticipation of what is going to happen. You walk around the room to try and calm your nerves. You let your hands wander on the different little items he has sprawled around.

You take into account that the room has a lot of windows, white curtains covering the night sky, bright lights fill the space, and it makes you feel hot.

But not in a good way. You feel almost uncomfortable. You feel like you don’t belong here.

Almost.

You start feeling itchy underneath your cardigan. The alcohol in your veins is keeping you warm, but making you feel incredibly hot underneath these lights.

You move to the one side of the room that does spark your interest. He has bookshelves that line the entire wall. Different titles, different genres, and still you can’t allow yourself to even pick one up.

You hang your bag on the coat rack next to his Hufflepuff colored scarf and take off your cardigan as well. Your arms feel bare as you turn to look at Cedric.

He’s already looking at you with a small smile on your face. He laughs in embarrassment as he tries to cover his face by looking down.

You smile as you let out a shaky laugh as well. You stand next to Cedric’s bed, your fingertips touch the sheets slightly, and you feel Cedric move towards you.

Your breathing starts to hitch as you feel his cold hands touch your bare arms. You shiver slightly and look up at him from underneath your eyelashes.

He looks nervous. His hands move from your arms and slide down to hold your waist.

“Is this okay?” He whispers as he tilts his head down towards you.

Is it okay? You ask yourself.

You find yourself nodding yes.

“Merlin, I’m so nervous.” Cedric whispers as he starts leaning down, his forehead touches yours, and you lick your lips.

“Why?”

“Because it’s you,” he admits.

You raise an eyebrow in confusion, you start to open your mouth to say something, but then you feel Cedric’s mouth on yours.

He catches your lips in his in a hard and needy kiss. It catches you by surprise, but your eyes flutter shut and you start to reciprocate the kiss.

You taste the alcohol on his tongue, his lips feel awkward on yours, you're not used to these lips, your mind feels cloudy, but you don’t pull away.

Instead you wrap your arms around his neck, both his arms wrap around your waist which pull you as close to him as possible, and the kiss feels hungry now.

“Holy shit,” he moans against your mouth when you grind your hips against his, already feeling the hard dent in his pants, and he grabs your waist tightly.

You bit your bottom lip. Images of Draco fill your mind as you try to shove them away, you pull Cedric back into your space and back to your mouth.

You tug at Cedric’s sweater, he gets what your insinuation, and tugs it off in one swift motion.

You shove him against the bed and you both tumble into it. He grips you to him, without breaking the kiss, you’re now on top of him, and his hands move underneath your shirt.

His hands touch the bare skin underneath your shirt and you try to shut the screaming voice in your head saying “this isn’t right, this isn’t Draco!”

You groan into his mouth because of the thoughts, but Cedric believes it’s a moan and he moans back into your mouth. He pulls away, open mouth, kisses your neck, sucks on it, and you tilt your head back. You look up at the roof of the room into the blinding lights. Your eyes feel dry and your body feels disconnected from your brain.

Is this really happening?

His lips feel weird on your body.

You’re just not used to this, you tell yourself.

You tell yourself you're overthinking it and that you want this. You really want this.

You run your hands through Cedric’s hair and he tugs off your shirt revealing your chest, your panting as you look down at your bra covered breasts, and Cedric hums in content. He’s about to unhook your bra when you both jump at the sudden banging on his door.

You gasp at the loud pounding, Cedric mutters a few curse words, and you almost pass out when you hear Draco’s voice yelling your name from outside the door.

No fucking way.

Cedric gives you a bewildered look as he rushes off the bed, you look around quickly for your shirt to cover yourself, you can’t see where Cedric threw it, and you rush underneath the silk yellow sheet. You tug the sheets over your almost naked body.

Cedric pulls open the door and you see Draco’s eyes flying everywhere. His face falls and pales when he sees you.

His mouth parts open in shock, his eyes never leave yours, and you’re filled with rage.

And curiosity. What is he doing here?

“What the fuck, Malfoy?!” Cedric yells at him, he’s still panting as he fixes his hair, and waits for Draco’s response.

You stare at Draco as you wait for him to say something. Draco’s eyes scan you and you can see him seething with rage.

“She’s drunk. You’re taking advantage of her,” Draco spats at Cedric as he shoves him aside, Cedric’s body hits the door with a thump, and Draco is searching for something.

“What are you doing?! He’s not taking advantage of me!” You yell at him, your voice slurring a bit, and you stumble to stand up.

Draco in a haste slips on your shirt back onto you, tugging your cardigan on, and he already has your bag in his hand.

You feel fuzzy with his fast movements as you stare at him, you let him move you around, and you wonder if you’re really this fucked up.

Cedric stumbles towards you, his hand wraps around your wrist, and he looks at you with concern. “Are you leaving?”

“I-I..” you start to say as Draco pulls you underneath his arms.

“Let go of her, Diggory. You can speak to her tomorrow when she’s sober and not under the influence.”

Cedric unwraps his hand from your wrist and before you know it, you're out of his room and walking back to the Slytherin dungeons. Draco is walking quietly. His hand is wrapped around your wrist and it’s not rough. His fingers cover your wrist whole, they’re warm and soft against your skin. It doesn’t feel wrong.

Everything feels right. You curse yourself silently because why does everything have to feel right with Draco? You wish it felt wrong.

Draco says the password for the common room, he slips you both inside, and it’s eerily quiet inside. Everyone must be asleep already. You don’t even know what time it is anymore.

He slips down the stairs and he stops at the door of your room.

He whispers your password to the painting he had bribed to protect your door and pulls you into it. He sets your bag down onto your dresser drawer and you look around your room.

Everything is the same as you had left it, you hadn’t slept here in you don’t know how long, you hadn’t slept without Draco by your side in even longer.

Your lip trembles as you realize what’s going on.

What you’ve done.

You feel dirty as you toss your cardigan to the floor. You’re about to peel off your shirt when Draco stops you.

You can’t look up at him.

You stay staring down when his smell fills your senses and you feel warmth spread through you.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You fur your eyebrows together and look up at him.

“Of course not! He- he didn’t take advantage of me, Draco. I wanted it to happen. I… I want to move on from you,” you let yourself say what you can’t say when you’re sober.

Draco’s face falls and his eyes clenched shut.

“You… you wanted to sleep with him?” Draco’s voice cracks with the question, his eyes staring at you now, and they show nothing but sadness.

You nod as you pull away from him. “I… I think so.”

Draco takes in a shaky breath. It feels as if the air in the room has thinned out. Draco feels as if he can’t breathe in suddenly. His chest hurts as he looks at you.

“Okay,” Draco says as he steps back from you. His knuckles knock on the dresser, he’s nodding at himself as if he’s trying to convince himself of something, and he pops his lips in thought. His lips relax into a quiver that he stops quickly before you can take notice. Because you notice everything he does.

But your mind is somewhere else tonight.

With someone else.

“Okay,” he says again.

You stand there, watching him, your heart breaking once again, he takes one last look at you, his eyes taking in every inch of you. His eyes stop on yours once more before he turns on his heel and walks out of your room.

You’re left in the emptiness of the four walls around you, the empty bed that you haven’t touched in months, and the beating of your racing heart is loud in your ears. Your face feels flushed and sweaty.

Your mind is still fuzzy as you try to think back about the events that happened tonight. You sniff as you start to undress yourself while walking to your lavatory. Thankfully, you were blessed to have an empty room. Only because Draco pulled strings for you. Like he always did.

You stumble on your feet as you throw your clothes around you, warm tears are slowly falling down your cheeks, and you suddenly feel a rush of disgust fill your bones.

You stop in front of your mirror to take yourself in. Your hair is devilish, your skin is bruised in certain areas by foreign lips, and your chest is huffing up and down as you claw off your remaining clothes.

You turn on the water of the shower to blazing hot. All you want is to wash Cedric’s touch off of you.

The next few steps turn into a blur in your mind as you let the water burn you while you scrub your skin red hastily. You couldn’t stop crying because of what you did. The images of Cedric kissing you burned in your mind.

The images of his fingers and mouth touching you kept replaying no matter what you did.

You banged on the shower walls with a yell, gripping your wet locks, and tugging them. Begging your mind to stop these racing thoughts and images. You fall to the shower floor as you hug your knees to your chest.

Your drunken state is long gone now and Draco is the only thing on your mind now. You begged your heart to not love him. You wanted to stop loving him right now. You needed to stop loving him. He didn’t love you. He has never loved you. You had no idea why he had stopped whatever was going to happen with Cedric. That was all a blur in your mind as well.

A deep part of you was grateful he had stopped you. You knew you would have come to regret it in the morning.

You knew you had given Cedric consent for what happened in that room and for what was going to happen. But you know that the only reason you were in that room in the first place was in spite of Draco.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you mumble to yourself as the water soon starts turning cold above you.

You shut off the water as you proceed to wrap your body in a towel. You dry your face, careful with your puffy eyes, and stand in front of your bed.

You stare at it with a hollowness inside of you. You can’t remember the last time you slept here alone. You’ve napped her before between classes, sometimes, but you don’t think you’ve slept here at all this semester.

You always slept in Draco’s room. Next to him. Every single night since the first day of term.

You touch the cold sheets, which aren’t as soft or smooth as his sheets, but they’re going to have to make do. You pull on an oversized sweater and panties, not bothering to dry your hair, and you stuff yourself into the cold sheets of your empty bed.

The emptiness around you is suffocating. You usually end your nights post-orgasm, your limbs feeling heavy, but your mind feeling light with a big smile on your face. You would cuddle into Draco’s warm skin and fall asleep as you both talked nonsense to each other. You swear you’d fall asleep with a laugh on your lips.

Your lips quiver slightly as you feel yourself crumbling once again. You close your eyes shut, turning to your side, and you stare at the darkness around you.

You wish you were in Draco’s bed right now.

Not having sex. But just with him.

You didn’t care about the sex. You cared about him. In the middle of everything going on, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that by Draco not loving you back… you wouldn’t just be losing your lover… you’d also be losing your very best friend.

Your twin flame. Your soulmate. Your everything.

You groan into the pillow as you beg your mind to shut off with these thoughts. You don’t think you can handle anymore of it. You curse yourself for falling asleep with the images of light grey eyes and a smile on pink tinted lips.

You woke up the next morning with a killer headache, a dry mouth aching for a glass of ice cold water, and a sense of emptiness around you.

You rubbed your eyes as your arm on instinct reached out to your side for Draco. You paused with a cold chill when you realized you were alone. You quickly sat up on your bed, pulling the sheet over your body, and looked around the room for him.

Your breathing hitched when the memories of last night flooded your mind.

You gasped loudly, covering your mouth with your hands, “No!”

You close your eyes as you replay the events of yesterday and last night.

“No… nononono,” you mumble to yourself as you jump out of bed to look into the lavatory to see if Draco was there.

Empty.

You slap yourself on the forehead, groaning, and cursing lowly. You couldn’t believe what had happened last night, but you felt so upset with yourself and with Draco. After that argument you had with him before the three broomsticks and what happened after.

You didn’t want to see him. You felt hurt by him and his actions. But were you any different? By being upset at Draco and jumping into bed with Cedric? But Draco couldn’t reciprocate your feelings…

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you ponder what you should do as you continue getting ready for breakfast.

You pull your robes over your school uniform, wand stuffed into the holder you were wearing on your thigh, and you slowly braid your hair. You place a green butterfly clip to the back of it to keep it in place neatly. Your eyes are still puffy and you decide to apply a little bit of makeup to make yourself feel a little bit better.

Once you feel more presentable, you stuff your books into one of your book bags and hook it over your shoulder. You take a glance around your room to make sure you’re not forgetting anything and start making your way to the Great Hall.

You hold your bag tightly against your body, trying not to make eye contact with anybody, you feel afraid that someone might know the events of last night, but you know Draco wouldn’t say anything to anybody. Ever.

Cedric… you weren’t too sure.

You pause outside the open double doors of the Great Hall, gulping down the dryness in your throat, and you glance in to see the hall is already filled.

Draco is sitting at his usual spot, the seat next to him empty as always, your seat, and you hesitate even entering the hall anymore.

Where were you supposed to sit now?

You tilt your chin up, let out a deep shaky breath, and make your way towards the Slytherin table.

Draco senses you and you can see his head snap towards you as you walk past him, avoiding his eyes, and make it down to the end of the table. You sit down at an empty seat. Alone.

You can hear the whispers begin around you. Everybody was whispering about why you were sitting by yourself and not next to Draco Malfoy.

You ignore the hushed whispers saying your name. You distract yourself by eating toast with strawberry jam, drinking a cup of iced cold water, and reading the next chapter for Charms class.

You feel his presence next to you before you even see him.

You don’t look at him. Instead you pour yourself a glass of pumpkin juice and start to sip on it. While you're pulling your hand back to your side, Draco slips his fingers around your wrist and gently pulls your hand towards him.

You stiffen up.

“Y/N,” he whispers softly.

You bite the inside of your lip as you let your book close, you look down at your lap, and you slowly turn your body towards him. You keep your head down. Now you’re looking at his thighs which are covered in black slacks.

God, you love his thighs.

His grip doesn’t falter on your wrist, but you don’t fight him on it. You’re basically limp next to him.

“Please look at me.”

You raise your head slightly to look at him from underneath your eyelashes. His face is filled with worry. You quickly look back down, you try not not to get a good look at him.

“Are you alright?”

You pout at the question, lashes fluttering against your skin, you shake your head slightly, and pull your wrist away from him. You tuck your hands underneath your robes and turn your body away from him again.

“You should leave,” you say. Your voice feels unknown to you. You sound cold and far away. You don’t sound like yourself.

“Wh…What?”

“I don’t want to see you,” you state as you shove your book back into your bag and start to stand up. Draco follows your every movement, his eyes are racing over your face to try and see if you’re joking, and he fishes for words.

“Why did you stop me last night?” You ask, glancing at him quickly as he stands up to tower over you.

His mouth parts, eyebrows furring down. “I…”

“You what, Draco?” You whisper lowly at him, trying to avoid the ears of those lingering to hear.

He licks his lips, looking away from you for a moment, and then back to meet your eyes.

Once again, here you are pleading for him to say something.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Wow,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him, shoving him with your shoulder, and proceeding to storm out of the Great Hall.

You’re already almost to potions class when you get pulled out to the empty corridor. “What the-“ you begin to yell when you see who it is.

“What do you want?” You ask frowning at him, finally taking a good look at him.

Draco's expression is cheerless, the corners of his lips are turned down, his eyes are blank, and he looks like he didn’t get much sleep last night. Just like you.

“Are we- Can we- I… I just…” Draco’s words fall away while you both continue to stare at each other. You look to your side and you feel your frown get deeper when you see the peach tree. Your heart tugs at the images that flood your mind, you look away from the tree and cross your arms over your chest.

“I think… I think we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

Draco’s jaw drops at your words, his face falls in anguish.

“What are you saying?” He winces out, his hands slithering in between your crossed arms, his hands around your wrists, his thumbs automatically rubbing against your skin. “Please don’t do this,” he begs.

“It’s what’s best for us right now. We-I.. I don’t think.. whatever this is between us… It’s not working anymore. You-We should stop.”

“Is this because of Cedric?”

It feels as if you’ve just been punching in the gut or as if your heart falls to the bottom of your feet. You can’t believe he just said that. You tug your hands out of his hold, once again, and look at him in anguish. “I can’t believe you just asked me that!” You shove his chest, “I can’t- Why would- What does Cedric even- I can’t fucking believe you, Draco! Are you bloody serious?!”

Draco rubs his forehead roughly, groaning loudly, “I am sorry! Okay?! I am sorry! It’s just.. After what happened last night… I figured that maybe you would want to end this, whatever is going on between us.. for him.”

You gape up at him, feeling a bit crazy, “You’re a bloody idiot. If you can’t realize what’s going on, I can’t help you. This isn’t because of bloody fucking Cedric Diggory. It’s not even about Heather Umbridge,” Draco winces at her name, “It’s about us! This went way too fucking far. I can’t- I can’t do this anymore. Please leave me alone.”

“Can't we just go back to how things were?”

You clench your jaw, “And how were things?”

Draco sighs, rubs the back of his neck, “Us… being… friends. Best friends.”

“We've never been just friends, Draco. If you can't see that, I don't know what else to say.”

That was the last thing you say to him before quickly turning on your heel and walking down to potions class. Class was about to begin in less than five minutes. Yours and Draco's seat was empty, the third desk in the front row, your eyes scan quickly to see which other seats are still empty, and you find one next to Harry Potter.

Your heart is still racing as you speed walk to Harry’s desk and stop in front of him. His eyes are already on you, shocked that you’re standing in front of him, he straightens up, and fixes his glasses.

“Is this seat taken?” You ask with hopeful eyes, his blue eyes watching yours in shock, but he shakes his head no as he motions for you to sit.

“Thanks, Harry.” You give him a small smile as you sit down and start fixing yourself. You feel different pairs of eyes on you, but you ignore them and tap your fingernails on the desk.

Draco struts into the classroom, his eyes already scanning for you, he spots you next to Harry, and his expression turns into a scowl.

You can see his cheeks redden in anger, his jaw clenching as he strolls to his seat without taking his eyes off you, and sits down. You lick your lips to try to avoid the lump in your throat and choose to ignore him. You sit up straight and wait for Professor Slughorn.

It was the week before Thanksgiving break and you knew you just had to make it through the next three days. Then you knew Draco would be heading home and you’d be staying here since your parents were in the states this year for work. You hadn’t had a chance to tell Draco yet, but now you were secretly praying he wouldn’t find out through his mother because you needed to be alone.

You needed to think about what was going to happen now. Was your friendship with Draco really over now?

You didn’t think you could ever be “just friends” with him again. You never truly were.

You felt humiliated because of yesterday. You felt ashamed because of what you did. You felt stupid thinking Draco could ever love you back.

At the end of potions class before you could even look up, Draco had already stormed out of class.

#draco x female reader #draco x reader fic #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy angst #Draco #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x y/n fic #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #hogwarts #slytherin

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dracowars · 1 year

Note

Hi hi, how are you? Could you write one where y/n is Draco's girlfriend, but she and Harry, who are best friends, end up arguing and he casts a dangerous spell on her? And when she arrives at the infirmary, still passed out, they discover she is pregnant?

best bad friend | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,0k

summary: where y/n discovers something that will change draco’s and y/n’s life forever

a/n: i just wanted to clarify that the characters here are all in 7th year and thus of legal age

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of pregnancy

universe: harry potter

“Harry, if you would just listen to me for one second-”

Your vocal cords can’t manage more than that when in the next moment you are hit with Stupefy by your opponent, whom you also call your best friend. With force, you are thrown against the wall and fall into unconsciousness right away. Only when you are able to open your eyes again do you realize what actually happened, what Harry did.

What he did to you, his best friend.

The bright light that streams into the room through the large windows dazzles you a little, and the slight breeze that gently shakes the white curtains reaches your ears, shaking the dark chandelier on the ceiling. The beige brick walls of the hospital wing – you realized it is the hospital wing once you sat up in your hospital bed, startled – express a coldness and you quickly notice that you seem to be the only patient right now. The other beds around you are all empty.

Exhausted, you massage your temples with your fingertips, the impact seemingly hit you harder than you originally thought. As you try to stop the pounding in your head, your gaze falls on the two wooden chairs that are close to your bed, as if someone had been sitting there just mere seconds ago.

Surprised, you look around again and do not move a single muscle, but you have to accept the fact that you can’t even hear any sounds from outside. Sighing deeply, you lean back into the uncomfortable mattress and place your palm on your forehead, closing your eyes and reflecting on what happened that transported you into the hospital wing of the castle.

Maybe telling Harry about your relationship with Draco Malfoy had not been such a good idea after all. Especially not when he found it out by himself first and only then did you decide to actually tell him about your relationship status. On the other hand, he would still not know if he had not caught the both of you kissing in an empty hallway. Even though you have sworn to never hide anything from each other, you betrayed him.

Best friends should not betray each other, you think. And yet you did exactly that.

It was perfectly understandable that Harry was angry and upset about this. You would never have blamed him for that. But throwing you across the room with a dangerous curse, ending up in the freaking hospital wing, all alone? Rather despicable.

You are racking your brains about how to face Harry the next time you see him when you are released from this prison that is your hospital bed when suddenly the heavy door finally opens and none other than Harry enters. Well, at least his head is peeking around the corner, and when your eyes meet for a moment, it looks like he would like to vanish into thin air right this second.

Understandably so.

“Y/N, you are awake!”, he says happily, but can’t hide the insecurity within his voice. “I- I will be right back.”

And just like that you are as alone again as you were since waking up, causing you to roll your eyes while crossing your arms in front of your chest in despair. Harry will definitely not get away from you that easily.

Harry does not take long to return, though he does bring Madam Pomfrey with him on the way back, the nurse greeting you with a friendly smile and looking you up and down as if you have lost all your limbs. When she asks you how you are feeling, you only reply that your head is buzzing. Which is the truth, but you honestly do not feel like talking to her about your emotional state right now after you were brought here by your best friend.

Obviously, you are not feeling well.

“If you allow me, I would like to talk to you alone for a few moments, Ms. Y/L/N”, Madam Pomfrey remarks after realizing that you do not feel like talking to her, or anyone at this point, about what happened. However, no one could have prepared you for what she would share with you in private.

At first you want to laugh and deny what she claims happened. That is completely and absolutely ridiculous, you think to yourself. Then, as you look into her serious eyes, your mood immediately changed, and you suddenly feel nauseous. The ground is pulled away from under your feet all of a sudden and you start falling and keep falling and just can’t stop falling. The pounding in your head gets louder, more unbearable by the second, and is now accompanied by a loud beeping in your ears.

Without knowing it and without being able to stop it, tears flow down your cheeks as your world falls apart in the blink of an eye. First, Madam Pomfrey tries to calm you down, to encourage you, but you do not want to hear her words. They will not change anything anyway. When she notices this as well, she finally gives you your space and leaves.

The silence bother you even more, however, since you are suddenly all alone with your thoughts and feelings. The moment there is a knock on the door and Harry enters the hospital wing, you break down completely. Immediately, Harry is at your side, holding you tight in his arms, trying to soothe you with whispers and repeated apologies.

The fact that he attacked you with a spell out of anger is honestly the least of your problems right ow, which is why you let him hold you, why you allow him to support you as your best friend. Everything you can think about in this moment is filled with pure darkness, and if it were not for Draco, who storms inside after hearing about the incident, completely distressed, the darkness would have taken you in whole.

As soon as you find yourself in a loveable embrace, after Harry willingly released you, Draco encourages you and confesses his love for you over a thousand times, over and over again.

“We can get through this, darling. Together”, Draco whispers softly and places several kisses against your temple, kissing away some of your streaming tears. “If anyone can do it, it’s us.”

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sunnylands-world · 1 year

Note

Hi can you do a Draco smut where the reader is lactating or some thing like it

Relax

Pairing: husband Draco x fem reader

Summary: being a mom is great if you don't count the feeding and other things but Draco is amazing at making you comfortable when you do finally get the chance

Word count:1,034

Warning: fingering, dirty talk, Draco sucking your breast, reader is a mother, mentions of stretch marks, and of course lactating

A/n: sorry took me a day or two 🥺 hope you like it though @honeysavanna-blog

You loved being a mother, your son was your absolute pride and joy besides all the late nights and such. He was a blessing but one thing you weren't too fond of was the small spots on your shirts. You had to change them frequently because of the milk that spotted your clothing, to say you were frustrated was an understatement. On top of that you felt like you were carrying weights with how full your breasts were. Your bra was long gone nowadays as you played with your son.

Draco and you finally were able to be alone as Scorpius was passed out in his crib but you were finding it very stressful, instead of relaxing. You were leaning against the backboard of your bed, Draco lying peacefully on your thighs. Your sigh in discomfort made him look up at you. "What's bothering you my love?" he says, turning towards you. "There just…so full" you huff, justering to your leaking Breast and he nods looking towards them with a hum. "Draco!" You say, noticing that lustful look in his eyes.

"I didn't say anything!" He defends looking up at you with a smirk, you shake your head in disapproval. "Can I drink it?" he says nonchalantly. "what!?" You can't believe he'd ask such a question but then again this is Draco. "Oh come on, you're uncomfortable and I just want you to relax" he says sitting up so he can kiss at your neck and your eyes shut lazily as his hand goes towards your chest under your loose fitting t-shirt, tweaking at your nipple till it drips onto his fingers. He pulls away to suck the liquid from them and your eyes come open as he releases the digits with a pop.

You don't think you've seen anything as sexy as him right now with his eyes fluttering open and a pleased look on his face. "Can I?" he says desperately and you sigh once again before nodding nevertheless. He moves eagerly and quickly as he tugs the top over your head, your heavy Breast bouncing at the motion. He pulls back admiring you and every little stretch mark on your skin from your son. "Beautiful" he says to himself, before he's moving you to lay back on your shared bed that's adored with the green satin sheets he got.

He starts up at your lips kissing you passionately with need, his teeth biting at your bottom lip causing a faint whine to leave you before he's attacking your jaw with slow pecks towards your neck. He adds new decorations to the skin in purple as his head lowers not leaving any skin untouched on the way but he doesn't go straight for your chest instead he grabs your leggings and pulls them away till your laying in your black panties that are also pulled away. he sneaks his fingers into your wet center, working them in at a teasing pace touching your spot with every thrust in.

Your back arches as you let out a quiet moan still being cautious of your sleeping child. "There we go, let go for me. Isn't that better darling?" he says watching you fall apart. His overly calm demeanor seems to only heighten your pleasure as he watches you. "Uh huh" you respond not able to form a sentence and he lets out a chuckle at this. Your husband was a tease and you loved it when he seemed in control of your every move. He just might quite literally be Dominance if the word were a person. you're brought back from your thoughts as lips attach to your nipple sucking and flickering the bud.

you let out a slight gasp feeling his plump pink lips wrapped around you. Your hand finds his blonde hair in no time, gripping tightly and he rewards the slight sting by biting your sensitive skin and smirking against you when you hiss. Your breast feels lighter as he drinks you up, dripping the milk from his mouth onto your chest all while his fingers stroke your sweet spot; the loud wet sound from your pussy seems to cause you to only soak his fingers more. He pulls back eyes a bit hazy as they look at you.

"You taste sweeter than I thought, might mix this with my coffee instead" he says and your cheeks flush more at the compliment. "aww you're still so shy even like this with my fingers deep in you" he teased, noticing the extra pigment. "Drac–" "ah, ah, ah, I know" he says cutting you off and if you weren't so far gone you would have been slightly irritated because your husband also had the habit of knowing everything and not letting you finish speaking but you knew he was only doing it now to take advantage of your situation as he attached his mouth onto the other breast sucking gently.

You felt lazy and high in the clouds at all the attention, like you were soaking in a bath with a sense of comfort and desperation. Your toes begin to curl and your eyes feel heavy. "i-i- Draco" you called and he pulled back a love drunk smile on his face as he kissed your neck. "Go ahead love, you deserve it. Cum for me" he says in your ear and that seems to be the final push off your cliff of your building pleasure an let yourself fall as he continues to finger fuck you through your release.

When you finally come back you're far too tired to move but Draco stands going to get a towel and your nightgown. He spreads your legs rubbing the cloth gently across your sensitive areas, he grabs his wand and cleans the bed with a flick of his wand before he's sitting you up, kissing your forehead as he pulls your gown onto you then laying you back in bed, covering you up. "Sleep my love, you work like you run a nation. I can watch our little wizard" he says, making sure the blanket is pulled to your neck giving you one more kiss before you fall asleep peacefully knowing he's taking care of everything.

Request open 👐

Draco's lovers and requests:

@alexxavicry , @sarahthehuffpuff,

@supercoffeeblogs , @thatwattpadobsessed

@ameliaclare04 , @kyracanwrite @animeloverfreak310 , @imafangirl22

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fallingforfictionalcharacterss · 8 months

Note

heyy! how are you? Could you write a story in which reader and there close friends get into a serious argument which ruins there relationship and there close friend reveals that reader has a crush on Draco and reader somehow runs into Draco and then cries into his arms as he comforts her. This happened to me (the first part not the second part, my crush sided with my friend) and I feel like it'd help me cope xx make any changes as suitable!

Sorry if this is too long to read and if you have a similar request then ignore this xx

Love your writing btw xx

First of all I want to say that I am really sorry that this happened to you and I hope that by now everything turned out somewhat good again. Much, much love and strength to you and I really hope I got everything right and that you will like this fic!

I really suck at making up fights out of nowhere, so this kinda felt like I forced it to escalate but I hope that it all still makes sense and you enjoy reading (even though I´ve done some characters really dirty in this fic).

False friends and true love

You stared into the fire crackling inside the fireplace of your common room. You felt your eyes getting heavy as you watched the flames dancing, and the chattering of your friends lulled you in. You sighed comfortably as you snuggled up even more into the cosy blanket covering you, your eyes lazily drifting from the fireplace to your friends who had spread on the couches and armchairs next to you, talking about the latest Quidditch matches, homework and the upcoming exams.

You barely even noticed how you became dizzier and dizzier, slowly drifting off into sleep, until suddenly, your head fell to the side, hitting something hard, making you jolt up again, looking around in confusion.

“Easy there, (Y/n).”, you heard a voice chuckling next to you.

You turned your head and blinked at Draco in confusion, who grinned at you with a smug look on his face.

“Sorry, almost fell asleep.”, you mumbled, your face heating up immediately as you realized that your head had fallen, out of all the possibilities, on Draco´s shoulder.

“Nothing to be sorry about.”, your friend answered, the smile on his face only growing wider. “I´m glad to serve as your pillow. Even though I consider myself quite disappointed that apparently, our company isn´t entertaining enough to keep you awake.”

His snarky remark made you return his smile immediately.

“If you want to put it this way. But you could also argue that it is so soothing that I even feel safe enough to fall asleep.”

“I think I like this version much better, love.”, Draco chuckled.

“But regardless of your comforting company, I think I still prefer my own bed. So have a good night.”

You wanted to stand up, but Draco held you back.

“Are you sure you already want to leave, (Y/n)? You know, I wouldn’t mind functioning as your sleeping place once more.”

You let out a small laugh.

“I bet you don´t. But I feel like my neck wouldn’t benefit from this.”

“Well, if you should change your mind, you know where to find me.”, Draco winked, making the blush return to your face.

“Whatever.”, you huffed, quickly turning away from your friend, hoping he wouldn’t notice your flustered state. “Goodnight y´all.”

“I´ll join you.”, Pansy stated and quickly got up as well. But the mischievous look in her eyes already told you that she wasn’t doing so because she was tired.

And you were right. As soon as the door of the dorm you shared with your friend closed behind you, Pansy crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at you with narrowed eyes.

At first, you seriously considered ignoring your friend, but soon enough you realized that this strategy wouldn’t get you anywhere. You knew Pansy was rather determined and once she had something on her mind, she wouldn’t rest until she had gotten what she wanted.

You sighed as you let yourself fall onto the bed, looking at Pansy, while tilting your head.

“Alright, what is it?”

You already had a faint suspicion, still, you weren’t willing to give in that easily.

“Are you for real? Isn´t it obvious?”

“Obviously not, so would you care to enlighten me?”

Pansy walked up to you and dropped onto your bed right next to you. With the slyest grin, she looked at you.

“Draco and you?”

“Draco and me what?”, you asked, trying to act the innocent, even though you knew you failed spectacularly.

“Merlin, (Y/n). You could have cut the tension with a knife back in there. For a second, I thought that boy would just take you to his dorm immediately.”

“Pansy!”, you snapped, slapping her arm, but your friend just laughed.

“Tell me I´m wrong and tell me you wouldn’t have gladly joined him.”

“Obviously I wouldn’t.”, you said, but it was a lie and Pansy knew it just as well as you.

You had had a crush on Draco ever since you could remember and ever since you could remember, Pansy teased you about it. At first, you had really tried to deny your feelings for Draco, not only in front of Pansy but also yourself, but there was absolutely no point in lying. Neither to yourself nor to your friend. Pansy knew you like the back of her hand and to her, you were like an open book. She had often encouraged you to try and talk to Draco, assuring you that she was rather sure that he shared the feelings you held for him as well, but until now you had never dared to do so. Still, Pansy had never given up. And neither did she now.

“You could have just stayed and cuddled with him. He even told you he wouldn’t have minded. And you can´t tell me that there´s a single guy out there who would let you do so unless he is all over you.”

“Or unless he´s a good friend.”

“Oh yeah, because you cuddle with Blaise all the time. Or Crabbe. Or Goyle.”

“That´s different. They just ain´t that much into it.”

“But Draco is?”

“Well, obviously.”

“But only with you.”

“That´s not true.”

“So have you ever seen him cuddle with someone else?”

You hesitated for a moment. Because even though you hated to admit – Pansy was somehow right. You really had never seen Draco comfortable with anyone else being near him in that way before. Actually, most of the time, when other people came close to him, he backed up immediately, pulling a face in disgust. But when it was you, he only pulled you closer, from time to time -when no one else was around- actively looking for your closeness, acting so much more relaxed and loosened up, when he held you in his arms. Your relationship was for sure different from the friendships the two of you held with others, but that didn’t mean that there were any romantic feelings involved from his side, did it?

When you didn’t answer, only staring into the void with a faint smile on your lips, Pansy grinned superiorly.

“That´s what I thought.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”, you brushed her off, hiding your face in your hands.

“Well, if it doesn’t mean anything, you surely won´t mind if I get Draco here so the two of you can continue where you left off.”

You gasped as you looked at your friend, still grinning at you.

“Don’t you dare, Pansy!”

“I´m just saying. I don’t mind sleeping in the common room tonight. And I could send Draco up here and tell him that…”

“You won´t tell him, Pansy. None of this, alright? Never! You have to promise.”

Pansy just rolled her eyes.

“Obviously I won´t. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t keep a secret?”

And with that, she definitely had a point.

You slammed your book shut and groaned as you leaned back in your chair. The bushy-haired girl on the opposite side of the table did so as well, only that she was closing the book so carefully that you could have suspected it was a rare and precious relic and not only an old schoolbook.

“This wasn´t that bad after all, was it? We´re already halfway through.”, she spoke up.

You gasped in disbelief.

“Only halfway? I thought we were close to the end. We´ve been sitting on this for hours. I feel like my head is going to explode.”

“Well, you asked me for help because you wanted to do it right. So we will do it right.”

“Whatever.”, you huffed.

“Tomorrow at the same time then?”

“Tomorrow already? Can´t we take a break?”

“The longer we wait the longer it will take us to finish that. So we better be quick. I also got other things to do.”

“Alright then, see you tomorrow.”

You grabbed your books and threw them into your bag carelessly, making the girl in front of you frown.

You were already halfway out of the library when you turned around once more.

“And Granger?”

The girl with the red and golden tie around her neck glanced at you distrustfully. You forced your lips upwards into a small smile, even though you were quite sure it looked rather wry.

“Thanks for your help. I…” You bit your lip, trying to make the words not sound like the worst insult. “I really appreciate that.”

Carefully, the Gryffindor returned your smile.

“You´re welcome.”, she said, before turning to the books in front of her again, closing the one you had just used for your Ancient Runes essay and replacing them with the ones you used for History of Magic.

You shook your head in disbelief as you made your way to your common room. Your eyes already felt heavy and your mind groggy after the hours of work you had put into your one essay. How Granger could now continue to work on yet another one was just incomprehensible to you.

When you had finally reached the door to your common room, every thought about the Gryffindor was however replaced with the ones of a cosy spot in front of the fireplace and the much more pleasant company of your friends who would talk about much more interesting things than why the unicorn presented the number one, the graphorn however presented the number two in the language of the runes.

With a faint smile on your lips, you entered the room, heading for your usual seats. You already spotted your friends sitting there, engaged in a conversation.

You let yourself fall onto the expensive material of the armchair with a heavy sigh, stretching your stiff limbs.

“Sorry it took me so long.”, you stated. “I was sitting on that damn essay until just now. And we haven’t even finished it. Can you imagine this? Hours of work and no results yet. Merlin, this Gryffindor know-it-all all really had me on my toes. But at least it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it. I just hope that in the end all of the work will pay off. I really can´t afford yet another bad grade.”

You placed your feet on the coffee table in front of you and looked at Pansy and Blaise, who were sitting on the couch next to you, expectantly. But instead of some understanding words, you were only met with icy silence. Pansy didn’t even look at you, while Blaise´s glance shifted between you and your friend.

“What? Are you lost for words?”, you chuckled, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“That´s one way to put it.”, Pansy muttered under her breath, her eyes shooting daggers into your direction.

You narrowed your eyes in confusion as you returned her look. Pansy was a master at daunting other people and making them feel like they had just committed a war crime just by looking at them, but normally, she reserved those glares for the people of other houses, especially the Gryffindors. And if she looked at one of her best friends like you had just drowned some kittens, you must have screwed up something really bad. But for the love of Salazar, you couldn’t figure out what it was. Your gaze shifted to Blaise, silently seeking for help, but the boy just pursed his lips and looked away.

You sighed and sat up straight, returning Pansy´s glare without blinking once.

“Alright, tell me, what is it then?”

Your friend raised an eyebrow mockingly, but there was no actual amusement in her voice as she said: “Really, (Y/n)? You can´t think of anything? You must be down even worse than we thought.”

“Down for what? What are you talking about? Is something wrong?”

“Certainly.”

“For Merlin´s sake, Pansy! Just quit your games and tell me already!”

“Why should I? If you don’t get it yourself, I´m afraid we can´t help you anymore.”

You groaned in resignation. You wouldn’t be able to get out of her what you wanted to know like this. Pansy had closed up completely and it looked like she wouldn’t open up that easy again. And you knew for sure that trying to get something out of Blaise was impossible in almost every state. Yet you took a deep breath and forced yourself to smile sweetly at Pansy.

“Alright, I see where this is going. So what does my best friend in the whole wide world wants me to do for her so she will finally tell me what I did to upset her today?”

Pansy crossed her arms in front of her chest, still glaring at you.

“Well, I can´t tell you, because by best friend you obviously can´t be referring to me.”

Your face fell.

“What?”

Your roommate smiled at you so calmly as if she hadn’t just given you evil tidings.

“I think you heard me correctly, (Y/l/n).”

Even though the fireplace was still lit up, the fire inside burning brightly, you felt the temperature dropping by a few degrees at her words.

“Quit the show, Pansy. Either tell me what´s wrong now or stop behaving like this, this really isn’t funny.” You heard your voice shaking.

Pansy stood up from her place, walking up to you slowly, before she came to a halt right in front of you, towering over you. To her right and left you could see some people shooting you some curious glances.

“You´re right, (Y/l/n), this really isn’t funny at all. All of those years I shared my room with some filthy bloodtraitor who brought so much shame to the entire house of Slytherin.”

By now, you were absolutely sure that whatever this was about, the situation was certainly serious. Because Pansy knew better than anyone else that this insult wasn’t something to make fun of. Bloodtraitors were the worst witches and wizards to ever exist, in your opinion, willingly abandoning their rights and obligations and betraying the people closest to them, disgracing their entire bloodline. You tensed in your armchair, straightening your back as you glared up at your friend.

“What did you just say?”, you asked, still hoping that you had just misheard what Pansy had said. Your voice was dangerously low because even though it was your best friend standing right in front of you, you couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t hex her nastily if she would repeat what she had just said.

But Pansy didn’t seem to be impressed because she looked you dead in the eyes and said: “Do you really want me to repeat that, (Y/l/n)? Isn´t all of that already embarrassing enough for you?”

“Alright, Pansy, tell me who knotted your wand or quit the bullshit and leave me alone.”

The girl let out a humourless laugh.

“I certainly won´t leave. But I will gladly help you pack your things if you want to.”

“Why should I? This is my home just as it is yours.”

“Not anymore. You lost your privilege of calling this place home the second you got involved with that filthy mudblood.”

Now you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.

“Hold on, that´s what this is about? That I work on that essay with a Gryffindor?”

“A Gryffindor, a friend of Potter and a mudblood.”, Pansy spat out.

You shrugged your shoulders.

“So? It´s not the first time we use others to get us some good grades, is it? And if I remember it correctly you even encouraged me to do so, because you couldn’t help me.”

That was true indeed. When you had a good cry on Pansy´s shoulder about how you didn’t know how you would pass the class, she had actually told you that you should just ask the person who was on top of the class for help, since none of your friends had taken the class this year and you were on the edge of a breakdown. And the person who was the best in your class happened to be Hermione Granger. And when you had realized that there was no way of talking her into doing your work for you, you had grudgingly agreed to partner up with her for the class, something neither you nor the Gryffindor had exactly been looking forward to, but your teacher had however been delighted about. And now Pansy actually wanted to blame you for taking her advice?

“I told you to look for someone to do your work, not to become best friends with.”

“What do you think we were doing? We were studying, Pansy. Not braiding each other’s hair.”

“Yes, you were studying. And you talked with her. And smiled at her. And in the end, you even thanked her. Millicent has told me all about it.”, Pansy snapped.

Your gaze fell on the said girl, who was sitting in a chair not far away, her arms crossed in front of her chest, as she looked at you disapprovingly, thrusting her jutting jaw forward.

“So am I supposed to keep a straight face for hours, showing everyone how much I hate studying with that girl and in the end not even thanking her for helping me out, even though I still need her?”, you asked in disbelief.

Pansy just shrugged her shoulders.

“Ain´t that hard, is it?”

“Pansy, you know I need a good grade in that essay or I´ll fail that class.”

“So?”

“So? I need this class. I need those grades. I´m really sorry if you don’t like that, but right now I need to set my priorities and they certainly aren’t keeping you content with me all the time.”

“So you choose your work with a mudblood over your friends? Your family?”

“No, Pansy. I choose a good degree over your personal vendetta.”, you answered, before you stood up, now being face to face with the girl you had always thought had been your friend. “Tell me when you can think straight again, but until then just leave me alone. I really can´t deal with that childish behaviour right now.”

You wanted to pass her, but Pansy stepped in your way.

“You might consider this childish, (Y/l/n), but I´m just loyal to my house. Something that you don’t seem to care about anymore.”

“How dare you call me out like this?”, you responded, raising your voice. “I am just as loyal to this house as everyone else in here. Salazar, you know I wouldn’t be a Slytherin if I wouldn’t be.”

“Seems like even the sorting head can be wrong from time to time.”, Pansy scoffed, looking at you in disgust. Then she stepped to the side, finally paving the way. “And now get out of here, we don’t want to see you in here ever again.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, so you´re talking for everyone now?”, you mocked, convinced that the others wouldn’t share Pansy´s opinion, but as you looked around, your confidence was crushed rather quickly.

The entire common room had witnessed Pansy´s and your conversation and everyone seemed to have a clear opinion about what had happened. But not in the way you had hoped. You could see the disappointment and disgust in the eyes of the people you had shared the biggest part of your life with over the past few years, noticed how they shook their heads in disapproval, crossing their arms in front of their chests as if they wanted to build a barrier between you and the people you had considered your family. Lastly, your gaze settled on Blaise, who was still sitting on one of the couches, his face showing no emotion.

“Oh, c´mon, you all can´t be serious, can you?”, you asked, trying to force yourself to smile, but failed terribly.

“You know the rules, (Y/n).”, Blaise spoke up, his voice sounding almost bored, even though he knew very well that his words would shatter your heart. “No encounters with mudbloods. No encounters with Gryffindors. No encounters with people who threaten our world. And you did all of these things.”

By now you could feel tears pricking in your eyes, but you blinked quickly to prevent them from falling.

“You should really leave now.”, Pansy hissed, the grin on her face making you suspect that she enjoyed this situation way too much. And it broke your heart that she did so.

“Come back when you remember where you belong.”, Blaise added.

“That´s not on you to decide. You can´t just kick me out.”, you rejected.

“Well, it doesn’t look like anyone minds, does it?”, Pansy responded.

And when your gaze flickered through the room once more, you hated the fact that you had to agree with Pansy. Right now, no one seemed to be on your side. You had done nothing wrong, yet they all treated you like a leper.

“But Draco. Draco isn’t here. You can´t decide this without him.”, you started one last weak attempt, not only clutching at straws that Draco would understand your situation and support you, but also knowing that every Slytherin respected the boy and wouldn’t dare to speak up against him.

But while you saw some people looking rather uncertain at the mention of the Malfoy heir, Pansy just giggled maliciously.

“That´s just so sweet, (Y/l/n). You really think Draco is going to save you?” Her voice was dripping from fake petty. “You really think that he isn´t going to be disgusted when he finds out that you encounter the enemy? Out of all the people you think that Draco will understand your friendship with a mudblood who is also Potter´s filthy girlfriend?”

“She isn’t….”, you tried to contradict, but Pansy continued unbothered.

“You really think that he won´t hate you just as much as we all do by now. That he won´t hold your betrayal against you?” She giggled again. “You know, I will almost feel sorry for you when Draco finds out, you know that? It´s really going to break your little heart when he abandons you as well. It´s quite the opposite of what you were hoping for, isn’t it?”

You felt your heart in your mouth. You knew that all of this was just a big misunderstanding. You weren’t quite sure yet whether Pansy intentionally hurt you or if she actually thought that you had betrayed your house the way she had portrayed it, but you knew that even after everything she had said, you still loved her. She was still a part of your family and you just knew that you would be able to forgive her her cruel words one day when she would realize the mistake she had made and would beg you for forgiveness. But if she would actually reveal what you were really feeling for Draco, now that the entire house of Slytherin was listening, you knew that your trust in her would be damaged lastingly.

Your eyes were locked with Pansy´s, silently pleading to not say something that she couldn’t take back, but Pansy´s glare wasn’t affected by it. She returned your gaze without blinking once when she said -loud enough for everyone to hear-: “Merlin, (Y/l/n). You had a crush on this boy ever since the first day and now you´re throwing it all away for some stupid mudblood. That´s really pathetic.”

The room around you started to spin, slowly at first and then faster and faster, when the buzzing in your ears mixed with the whispering and laughter of the people around you. All you wanted to do was to break down right away, run to your dorm, lock the doors and never get out again, but when you saw Pansy grinning at you, apparently enjoying the effect her words had had on the room, you knew that you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

And when you spoke up again, you were pleasantly surprised by how calm your voice sounded, when you said: “You know what, Pansy? Even if this was true, it wouldn’t be half as pathetic as throwing away a friendship over some stupid rumours and not even listening to the person you have always called your best friend.” You waited a moment until the echo of your words had vanished in the room that had fallen quiet again, eager to listen to what you had to say, before you took a deep breath and added: “And about your question what kind of friend you would be if you aren’t able to keep a secret; the answer is you ain´t one at all.”

Just for a second, you thought you could see some regret shimmering in Pansy´s eyes, but you didn’t look at her long enough to be sure of it. You just walked past her, ignoring the glances of the people around you, as you tried to prevent your legs from giving in, at least until you would be out of sight for the people that had until this very day had meant the most to you.

But while you were rather proud of yourself for not letting your guard down while you had still been in the common room, the moment the door had closed behind you, the tears had started to fall and until now they hadn’t stopped yet. Ever since you had walked away from the common room almost half an hour ago, you had wandered around the castle aimlessly. It was sheer luck that you hadn’t crossed ways with some other students or -even more likely since it was almost curfew- any of the professors or Filch. You had absolutely no idea where you were going or how you would explain to anyone why you were still out, with puffy eyes and looking like an absolute mess. All you knew was that you certainly wouldn’t go back to your dorm tonight. Maybe if you would go to the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey would allow you to stay the night if you would claim to feel sick or have a bad headache. You knew that Madame Pomfrey wasn’t easy to get fooled but given your pathetic appearance you were quite sure that she wouldn’t ask too many questions. And how you would continue from that point on, you could still think about tomorrow.

For now, there was a much more important question occupying your mind. After the entire common room had heard what Pansy had blurted out about your feelings for Draco, you were absolutely sure, that the latest by tomorrow, the entire school would know. If you were honest, you didn’t actually care about your stupid classmates gossiping about how (Y/n) (Y/l/n) was hopelessly in love with Draco Malfoy, you knew that these kinds of rumours had spread across the castle´s grounds rather often already, but what you did care about was what Draco would think about it if someone would tell him in every small detail - and probably some rather subjective interpretation - about the entire situation and Pansy´s words.

After Pansy had exposed you like this in front of everyone and didn’t even seem to be sorry about it at all, you had already kind of accepted that you had lost your best friend – probably forever- but after everything she had said tonight, you weren´t even as sad about it as you thought you should be. Pansy had made her decision. She had decided to believe some stupid rumours without even questioning them, had decided to let her pride and her prejudices ruin one of the longest and closest relationships both of you had ever had. This was on her. Not on you. But with Draco, it was different.

Not only because you loved the boy in a way so different from everything you had ever felt before, but also because Draco would – the moment he would walk into the common room – be assailed with narratives of all the people he trusted the most and who had already formed an opinion about what had happened. And an opinion about you. And you were rather sure that most of them wouldn’t be exactly well for you.

At the mere thought of what Draco was thinking about you maybe at this very moment, if he had by now already entered the common room and heard all those nasty things about you, you felt the tears welling up in you all over again. Draco would be so disgusted by you. Maybe he would even hate you. But the worst thought about this was that he was probably disappointed in you. You could vividly imagine how the blond boy was sitting in his usual armchair, staring into the fireplace, while Pansy would tell him how you had betrayed them all. How you had betrayed him. And when Pansy would be finished, Draco would look at Blaise, hoping he would contradict, but Blaise would just shrug his shoulders and say something like: “I know, man, we all didn’t expect it. But Millicent saw them in the library. And Montague as well.” And then Draco would shake his head and let out a sigh, wondering how he could have ever been fooled by you like that. And the next time you would see him, his gaze wouldn’t be full of affection but would be cold, maybe even indifferent. And he would walk towards you, but instead of coming to a halt in front of you, he would just walk past you, probably giving you a small nod and say: “(Y/l/n)”. And then he would punish you with his neglect, knowing that this would be the worst thing that he could ever do to you.

Your vision was blurry, and your hands were shaking when you turned around the next corner, still not knowing where to go. But your walk was curbed rather harshly when suddenly, you bumped into someone.

“Easy there, (Y/n).”, you heard a deep voice chuckling.

And it was the same voice you had just played in your head over and over again. Only that now that he was actually standing in front of you, Draco´s voice didn’t sound as cold as you had imagined it but was as warm and affectionate as you were used to it. And when you glanced up at the tall Slytherin through the haze of your tears, you could see him smiling down at you without hesitation. You gulped heavily. Probably, Draco hadn’t met any fellow Slytherins yet who had told him what had happened back in the common room. This was the only explanation for why he kept so calm around you.

“I was already looking for you, love.”, Draco continued. He brushed some strands of hair out of your face, his smile unfazed.

For a moment you felt some irritation welling up in you. Why was he looking for you? Did he already know after all? But if he did, why was he still so gentle around you? But either way; why was he smiling at you while you were obviously upset, with tears still running down your face? Did he already hate you so much that he enjoyed seeing you like this?

But all those thoughts were pushed back because you forced yourself to savour every moment, he would still be nice to you. With all your willpower, you tried to imprint the softness in his eyes and the way his voice sounded when he called you by his favourite nickname for you into your mind, in case it would be the last time.

Draco however didn’t show any intention of pushing you away anytime soon. Instead, he pulled you to one on the windowsills, hidden behind one of the permeable walls of the castle, where you were shielded from curious glances. When the boy took your hand into his bigger one, you followed him without hesitation, until he sat down on the sill and signified you to do the same.

Draco just stared at you, his face showing no emotion, when you sniffled quietly, trying to wipe away the tears, still burning in your eyes. Only when you had finally given up trying to fix the mess the tears had done to your face, the Slytherin finally cleared his throat.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened?”

“You don’t really want to tell me you don’t know yet, do you?”, you responded. You didn’t intend your voice to sound that bitter, but you were just too exhausted to try and hide it.

Draco shrugged his shoulders.

“I heard quite a few things tonight. But I want to hear it from you as well.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Well, you´re the first one.”

You didn’t know why now that you finally had a chance to explain yourself, you got as defiant as you did now. But when you glanced at Draco, he just looked at you, not seeming to hold your words against you and waiting patiently for you to explain yourself. And at that moment you suddenly knew that you just had to take this chance. Obviously, you couldn’t be certain how Draco would think about the entire story, but for some reason, you just knew that the bond between the two of you was way too strong to be destroyed by all the things that had happened today. Draco and you had always sticked together. And that wouldn’t change today.

The moment you came to that realization, the words started to tumble over your lips. With every word you spoke, the pressure that had been put on you was falling off more and more. And Draco listened patiently to everything. From your fear of failing the class, to how you may or may not had been a bit friendlier to Granger than you had been supposed to and finally how everyone was holding exactly that now against you, even -or more precisely especially- Pansy, who had not only broken with you but had also said some things you had told her in confidence. That however was the only point where you left out some details. Even though you strongly suspected that some idiot had already told Draco how you were actually feeling for him, after all the time you had been keeping it from your friend, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud in front of him.

When you had come to the end of your report, the tears, that over time had almost dried, came back in full force.

“I just don’t get it.”, you sniffled. “She is – she was my best friend. And now I don’t even know if any of this has ever been real. I mean if it would have been, she wouldn’t have done this to me, would she? Salazar, Pansy hates me so much, Draco. The entire house does now. Everyone does.”

Your voice broke down and you lowered your head when yet some other tears were making their way down your cheeks.

Until now, Draco had quietly sat on the windowsill, looking at you with narrowed eyes the entire time, his eyes not leaving your face for once. But now that you had fallen silent, he quickly stood up, and with one large step, he was standing in front of you, grabbing your hands to make you get up as well, before pulling you into a tight embrace. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as humanly possible.

“I don’t hate you, (Y/n).”, he mumbled into your hair. His voice was low and you could feel the vibration of the words in his chest, making you shiver. “I don’t hate you and I never could. And if the others actually think like that, they´re all idiots. Merlin, forget it. They´re idiots anyway. You´ve done nothing wrong, love. Trust me, this isn’t on you.”

“But why does it feel like it is?”

“Because everyone has told you it is. And now you start to believe it yourself. But I´m here to tell you that you´re not.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“I know you, (Y/n). Salazar, you´re one of the best people I´ve ever met. All you did was ask for help.”

“Exactly, I showed weakness. In front of a mudblood.”

“Sometimes you can bend the rules a bit, love. You did it because you had to. There´s nothing wrong with that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and felt yourself relax into Draco´s arms a bit.

“Says you.”, you mumbled.

“Exactly. And if even I can say that, then it has to be true, doesn’t it?”

You were pretty sure that under every different circumstance and with every different person, Draco would have probably given them hell for even talking to someone like Granger at all, let alone working with her. But maybe this was the reason his words calmed you down even more. The Slytherin was willing to go against those values he believed in so strictly just to cheer you up. And it worked better than you would have guessed.

Draco and you stayed in the embrace for a couple more minutes, until even the last tears had dried up and most of the tension had left your body. And even though you now felt just exhausted and would have done anything for him to keep on holding you like this for just a bit longer, you pulled back slightly, until you were able to look Draco in the eyes again. When his eyes met yours, he smiled softly, holding a tenderness in his eyes you had never seen in him before.

“Thank you.”, you said. Your voice sounded slightly raspy.

The smile on Draco´s face only widened.

“There´s nothing to thank me for, love.”

“No, for real, Draco. I… I felt really shitty about all of this but now I feel… like maybe there is a way to work it all out.”

“And if there isn’t one, we´re going to make one.”

You looked at him hopefully.

“We?”

“Of course. We´re in this together, don’t you think?”

“Why?”

“Purely selfish reasons.”, Draco smirked. “I want to see that pretty smile of yours again as soon as possible.”

You couldn’t help your lips twitching up at his words, making Draco grin smugly.

“See, my life would be a lot worse without this.”

You nudged him.

“Oh, just shut up!”

“Why? It´s the truth.”

You let out a small giggle before you grew serious again. Because with all the affection Draco was showing you now, you were reminded of another certain detail, one you would rather forget but you knew that it was probably for the best if you would bring it up before anyone else would.

“Draco?”

“Yes, love?”

“You… you said you heard a few things about what happened back in the common room before you came looking for me.”

Draco nodded, now looking a bit grimmer again, as he remembered all the nasty things he had never imagined anyone could ever think - let alone speak out loud - about you.

“And did you… did they… I mean, have you also heard something about you. About us I mean. Not that there is much to say, but I just… I don’t know… Pansy said a few things earlier and I just want to make sure that this… I just don’t want you to get something wrong about it.”

Draco nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours, as he brushed some strands of hair out of your face, letting his fingertips ghosting over your cheek, making you shiver.

“We don’t have to talk about this now, (Y/n). There´s pretty much been going on tonight and if you´re not ready for this now…”

“No! No, it´s alright. Just… What did you hear?” Even though you were scared of what would happen next, even though you were scared that you might lose the last person who you were still meaning something to by this as well, you knew that none of these things would get any better if you waited any longer or would just ignore it. “If you want to tell me of course.”, you added quickly, as you noticed the indecisiveness in Draco´s eyes.

“Well, a few people came up to me and told me that… Apparently, you told Pansy that…” Draco shook his head and took a deep breath. “No, you know what, it doesn’t matter what she said. What any of them said. This… should be about us.”

You just nodded, your eyes flickering anywhere but meeting Draco´s, until suddenly you felt a hand under your chin, gently forcing you to look up at the blond boy again, who was looking at you intensively.

“(Y/n), do you have a thing for me?”

You gulped heavily at the straightforwardness of his question. There was not much to beat around the bush, so you just nodded. The nod looked a bit rigid, also given to the fact that his hand was still placed at your chin, but it was unmistakably a nod.

Your head was running wild, imagining all the things that could go wrong about this, from Draco feeling betrayed by you, to taking back everything he had said within the last minutes, but none of those things happened. Instead, a small grin appeared on the boy´s face again, spreading more and more with every second passing.

“Then you might want to know that I have a thing for you as well, love.”, he said in a husky voice, sounding as if the confession had almost knocked the air out of his lungs as much as it did to you.

You blinked at the boy in confusion, having to take a moment to let his words sink in.

“You… you also…”, you stammered when you had finally found your voice again.

Draco nodded.

“One could say I am stupidly in love with you, as some of these people have expressed so elegantly. So yes, I also.”

You looked at the Slytherin with widened eyes, feeling a warmth flushing through your entire body, you had never felt before.

“Are you going to let me kiss you now, or what?”, Draco chuckled, when he saw the still perplexed look on your face.

Still too stunned to speak, you just nodded.

And when Draco finally gently pressed his lips on yours, you couldn’t quite remember anymore why you had thought that this day would end so miserably in the first place. All that you could think of at this moment were Draco´s lips on yours and his hand wandering from your chin to your cheek, cupping it, before continuing its way to the back of your head to pull you even closer to him, while his other hand sneaked around your waist, striving the same. He never loosened his grip once, only trying to pull you even closer than before, his touch comforting you, reminding you that you were anything but alone in this world. Because Draco would stay with you, no matter which challenges you would have to meet in the future and with him by your side you were positive that you would master them effortlessly.

Only when your lips were swollen and your lungs burning, you finally pulled back slightly, still his arms stayed where they were, not wanting to lose the feeling of closeness completely.

“We should probably get back soon.”, Draco mumbled. His lips brushed against yours as they moved. “It´s already after curfew and you need to get some sleep. This was a long day.”

Unwillingly, you tensed under his touch as you shook your head.

“I can´t go back there. How am I supposed to sleep in a dorm with her after everything that happened? After everything she said?”

“Well, at least some of it turned out to have a positive outcome after all, didn’t it?”, Draco responded, pecking your lips, but he quickly grew more serious again when he saw you shooting him a deadly glare. He sighed. “Alright, love. Maybe I got a different idea.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly as Draco smirked at you.

“What if I told you,”, he said, as his thumb brushed over your lips tenderly, “that there is a place that will make all your dreams come true and I can promise that Pansy won´t be nowhere in sight?”

You gasped and slapped him against his chest lightly.

“Draco Malfoy, if you´re suggesting I´ll get back with you to your dorm, let me tell you that I certainly won´t…”

“Even though this idea sounds more than tempting”, Draco interrupted you, “that isn’t what I have in mind. I mean a room that will literally shape into everything that you are wishing for. And I´m sure, a cosy bed won´t be an exception. And tomorrow morning, I´ll get you your school supplies and after class, we´ll think about how we´re going to go on, alright?”

You looked at the boy in front of you with narrowed eyes, but at this point, you were actually too exhausted to argue and Draco´s idea actually sounded just way too good to question it. So you just nodded.

Draco grinned at you smugly, as he took a step back, letting go of you, before his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Follow me then, my love. I promise you won´t be disappointed.”

You returned his smile without hesitation.

“As if you ever could disappoint me.”

“Obviously. As long as we´re together, everything will turn out just fine.”

And when you followed Draco, you just somehow felt that he was right. One way or another, everything would work out. You were sure of that.

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draco-dormiens · 4 months

Text

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty Two

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol use (characters are 18+)

wc: 3375

masterlist

taglist is now closed - i’ve officially run out of tags! thank you all

One Hell of a Dinner Party

"So, Draco, your mother tells us you've taken a fancy to Ministry work," Mr Greengrass asks the young Malfoy heir from across the long dark wood table, between them a feast for at least a hundred people laid out by house elves scuttering to and fro, "fine place, the Ministry. Well, under the correct management, that is."

The man laughs, as Lucius joins purely out of politeness. Draco, too, manages a small laugh, as he pushes the food around his plate.

"Well, I've been thinking about that, yes," he answers, Astoria gazing at him from across the way, Daphne on her umpteenth glass of wine, "but I also like medicine, sir, so maybe a job at St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's, you say?" the older gentlemen looks over at this wife, Mrs Greengrass, who cuts her food into pea size pieces, and gives her an rather unreadable look, "very noble of you son, to want to help others, but what about the pay, and the hours? Not a very suitable job for a family man, wouldn't you agree, Lucius?"

"Ah, well, we have always told Draco he may choose whatever profession he would like," Lucius goes on to explain, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin, "I'm sure, once he has climbed up the ranks, he will have more flexibility with the job."

Mr Greengrass scoffs amusingly.

"And how long would that take, Lucius? Narcissa, surely you would prefer Draco to choose a much more stable profession? There are plenty of places in accounting at the Ministry, I can always put a good word in for your boy." said Mr Greengrass.

Draco clenches his fist under the table. If it wasn't for his mother breathing down his neck, he would've given old Greengrass a piece of his mind. Astoria, like a deer in the headlights, looks between the adults with a nervous disposition.

"The offer is very much appreciated, isn't it, dear?" Narcissa then speaks up, looking over at Draco with a desperate sort of look in her eyes. Draco, already fed up and even more so now Mr Greengrass had voiced his opinion, takes a deep breath and forces a smile onto his face.

"Tell me, Mr Greengrass," Draco said in the most sarcastic tone he could muster, Daphne shaking her head at him in the corner of his eye in an attempt to stop whatever he was thinking about saying, "you've been at the Ministry for some time now. How do you find sleeping at night?"

"Right, how about some dessert?" Narcissa says very loudly, chair legs scraping along the dining room floor as she begins gathering plates and passing them to the tiny house elf, "I made the most delicious looking pavlova. Mrs Greengrass, care for some? Tea or coffee, anyone?"

Her voice seemed to be getting higher in pitch as she spoke, the tension now thick and rather unpleasant. Within a few minutes, the table was cleared and in floated several mouth-watering desserts. Along with Narcissa's pavlova, there was freshly baked strawberry cheesecake, double chocolate fudge cake and boats of pouring cream and custard. As the dessert settled on the tables service, talk of school began, and Draco's mind started to drift far away from the conversation around him.

"We are so proud of Astoria," Mrs Greengrass boasts, helping herself to the thinnest slice of cheesecake the world has ever seen, "we have full faith she will come out with top marks. Such a clever and interesting young woman."

Daphne snorts quietly as she indulges in chocolate cake, Draco meeting her eyes with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Astoria gives her sister a stern look. Their mother then changes the subject to Draco's school days, much to his dismay.

"Astoria tells us that you're rather sporty, Draco," Mrs Greengrass then asks, picking at her cheesecake, "she says you've taken up Quidditch this year?"

"He's always played Quidditch, Ma," Daphne rolls her eyes, "can't you remember?"

"The best seeker Slytherin has seen in years," Astoria speaks loudly over her sister, "Madam Hooch even says so. Thanks to him Slytherin have done extremely well this year."

"Isn't that wonderful, dear?" Mrs Greengrass says to Mr Greengrass, who hums in agreement as his mouth is full of pavlova, "and have you always liked playing Quidditch, dear?"

Draco clears his throat.

"I had a break in sixth year," he explains, all eyes now on him, "but I recently got back into it," he pauses for a moment, glancing at the six people around the table, "a good friend of mine helped me regain my passion for it."

Astoria choked a little on her dessert, before gulping down a glass of water.

"It's always nice to have good friends around you," Mrs Greengrass smiles, "does your friend also play Quidditch? Is he into sport?"

"She doesn't play, no," Draco smiles, the thought of you making his evening feel a little lighter. Daphne excuses herself to use the restroom, sensing the rise in tension as her mother's eyes widen to the size of the dessert plates.

"She?" Mrs Greengrass repeats in a sort of strained voice.

"Draco, why don't you tell Mr and Mrs Greengrass about your potions classes this year? You've thoroughly enjoyed them, haven't you?" Narcissa nudges Draco's leg under the table harshly, glaring at him over her cheesecake and cream.

"Do you have many friends, Draco?" Mrs Greengrass asks, shrugging off Narcissa, her face souring even though she was trying her best to keep a smile on her face. Mr Greengrass, oblivious to the current topic, was talking Lucius' ear off about his recent investment at the Ministry.

Draco grits his teeth, remembers what he's enduring this for, and lays down his fork.

"No, ma'am," he digs his nails into his knee to ease some of the frustration, Astoria staring at him with such intensity he almost feels his skin burning, "I'm afraid I don't mix all that well."

"He's being modest," Astoria laughs awkwardly, "Draco has many friends. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini; you remember them, Mummy?"

She hums, and takes a miniscule bite of cheesecake.

Once dessert was over, the plates were cleared and in came the pots of tea and coffee, floating on silver trays with small, sugared biscuits on each coaster. A teacup was given to each of them, followed by their choice with cream or milk. Small talk passed the time, as Draco contemplated his entire existence in his cup of tea. In his pocket sits the little velvet box, a rock nestled in a silver band inside, waiting to be placed on Astoria's long, pale finger. He catches her line of vision when he looks up, and she smiles over her cup. He smiles back, and the guilt of his unrequited feelings starts to make him feel nauseous.

As soon as tea and coffee was finished, Narcissa leads the guests back to the drawing room, where fresh bottles of wine and glasses had been placed on a golden tray in the centre of the coffee table. The fire was smoldering, as even in the summer, the large rooms of Malfoy Manor rarely heat up enough. Conversation starts once more, and the time for Draco's proposal creeps ever closer. He could feel his parents eyes on him every second, any time he refilled Astoria's glass with sparkling grape presse and her fingers brushed his, even when he shuffled slightly in his seat. The anticipation was clearly killing them. Even Mrs Greengrass jolted when he moved. It seemed everyone was eager, except for him. Daphne became topic of conversation for a while, Narcissa asking her twenty questions from her job search to her love life.

"I just love wizarding fashion, Mrs Malfoy," Daphne explains, playing with the ends of her golden, silky hair. Daphne was always beautiful, but Blaise had long made his interests known for the eldest Greengrass daughter, "Madam Malkin has been so kind as to let me help her around the shop, only to get some experience. I want to be a steam stress eventually, and design my own tasteful gowns for young witches."

"And what about Pansy?" Draco hears his mother ask, and his heart drops to his feet upon remembering what Pansy had witnessed, "do you still see one another? I have invited the family over to the manor a few times. Lovely girl, isn't she, Draco?"

"Uh, yeah," Draco nods, trying to sound genuine, "she was always... around, right, Daph?"

Daphne stifles a laugh.

"Indeed she was," Daphne agrees, and then smirks devilishly, "I think the reason for that was her... what shall we call it... interest, in you, Dray."

"Interest. Sure." Draco sips on his wine as Daphne turns her head to chuckle. It would seem Pansy knew better than to blab about her findings that night; she may be a lot of things, Pansy Parkinson, but being disloyal to Draco didn't seem to be one of them. She knew, just as well as he did, that Draco knew her all too well. There were a fair few things he was sure her parents would be interested to find out about their precious Pansy.

"Would anyone care for a drink in the garden?" Narcissa then asks, giving Draco a knowing look, "Draco, why don't you take Astoria to see my flower beds and wait for us to join you?"

This was the moment he'd been dreading. In his mother's letter, she strictly said to be prepared for when she offers the Greengrasses a drink in the garden. That was the perfect time, she said, to get down on one knee. As Astoria's parents walk out into the courtyard, surrounded by Narcissa's immaculate flower beds, Draco would be asking for their daughter's hand in marriage. How romantic, his mother had written, under the summer moon. It will be spectacular.

How scripted, more like, is what Draco thought.

A sudden cold sweat dripped down Draco's back. He grips the little box in his pocket, and for a long moment, doesn't respond to what his mother was asking of him. He didn't realise how long he'd been standing there, slack-jawed, until Narcissa cleared her throat loudly and gave him a look only a mother could.

"Oh, uh, yes, I can do that," he then rushes out, and holds out a clammy hand for Astoria to take, "please, let me lead the way."

She takes his hand without haste. Draco, silently, takes the girl out of the drawing room and through the house, all the while gripping the box in his pocket. Astoria, not sure what to make of Draco's strange behaviour, remains just as quiet, her heels clicking along the tiled floors and echoing in the stale air. As they neared the glass doors leading to the courtyard, they pass the staircase leading up to the room which Draco took you to. The one with the big window that seems to look out at the entire universe. He stops, dead in his tracks, and stares at the doorway.

"I was just thinking how big the world is, you know?" you had said, and he remembers looking across at you and thinking how nice you looked. How pretty you were, and how ignorant he was for never noticing that, "like, all those little specs in the sky are something, and we're just here. Looking up at them. A small piece in a big puzzle."

He recalls thinking that your mind must be a rather interesting place, to come out with something as deep as that. But then you asked him, perhaps the most complicated question he'd ever heard, and if he thinks about it, if you were to ask him now, his answer would be completely different.

"Have you ever loved anyone?"

He remembers, his answer was no. And he was quite confident in that answer, but now...

Now he had tasted what it felt like to crave someone, to want their presence even in the most mundane moments. When he's alone in bed at night. When he's reading in silence. When he's needing a comforting word or someone to lean on.

"Draco?" Astoria's voice sounds distant, "are you alright?"

A tidal wave of memories came rushing back to him. Christmas. Watching the stars, playing chess in the Astronomy tower. Burning potions. Arguing. The moment you threw that silly little drawing into the fire. All those nights you spent listening to him ramble on about constellations. The taste of your lips and the feeling of your hand in his. How, no matter how much he tries, he simply cannot be without you. A piece of him was forever missing.

"Draco," Astoria shakes him a little, worry plastered all over her face when he finally snaps out of it and faces her, "what's wrong? You went rigid and pale. Are you feeling well?"

"I, uh..." he begins, but the words get stuck, and suddenly the long corridor is suffocating, the air is thin and his suit is uncomfortable, "need some air."

He rushes off without her, loosening his tie and running a hand through his neat hair. Astoria hurries after him, calling for him to slow down, to tell her what was wrong. As he approaches the courtyard doors, he pushes them open with so much force that the glass rattles in the panes. The cooler night air hits him like a bludger to the head, and for the first time in an extremely long time, one thing was so strong and clear in his mind that everything else was getting lost within it, and his strength was returning to his spent and beaten soul.

"I can't do this," he says, as Astoria comes to a halt behind him, panting slightly, "I... can't do this. I see it now. All this time I've... What the fuck am I doing?"

Astoria doesn't say anything, instead, she merely comes to stand beside him. For a long moment, they just stand in silence.

"Draco," Astoria then breaks it, and Draco's watery eyes meet hers, "we both know what is expected of us tonight. Right now, as we stand here, they are waiting for the right time to witness our engagement. Even Daphne sussed it."

"Astoria," Draco's quiet voice says, "I can't-"

"Do you believe in soul mates, Draco?" Astoria continues, but Draco can't seem to find an answer. The pretty brunette continues anyway, "because I do. I believe it's not our hearts that yearn for another, but our souls. I like to think, that somewhere out there, a soul wanders this earth looking for its other half... it's soul mate."

She then turns to face him fully, a gust of wind ruffling her long brown locks. A smile graces her features, and she gently places her hand on his face.

"I want you to know, whatever you chose to do tonight, I understand," she whispers to him, "because the other half of my soul is still out there... but you, Draco, you have found yours."

"What are you saying, 'Storia?" Draco mutters, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, "you've always been so adamant that this is what needs to happen. Why the sudden change of heart?"

She shrugs.

"It's true, that I'd be happy to marry you, Draco," she admits freely, "but seeing you tonight, how stressed you've been, how unsettled throughout dinner. Why should someone make you feel that way? No matter what way you look at it, you are unhappy. We would marry, and you would still be unhappy. You'd learn to live with it, because that's the kind of man you are. Monogamous and faithful," she retracts her hand and looks out over the garden, "when you stopped back there, you were thinking of her, weren't you?"

"I feel so terrible," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, "why is this happening?"

"I want you to understand that I will never think ill of you, Draco," Astoria reassures him, "I don't think I ever could. If you walk away now, then I will not stop you. If you chose to stay and marry me, then I can only ask that you learn to live with your decision, and we make the best out of this situation. You have a choice. I never should have made you think otherwise. It was wrong of me."

A choice. Draco has never been presented with one of those before. He takes a deep, shaky breath and then remembers Grangers words. He remembers the dinner at Weasleys, the chance that Granger had taken the liberty to offer him, and as if a fire was lit from under him, courage and warmth spread throughout his entire body.

"Astoria," he says firm and serious, turning his entire body to face her fully, and takes her hands in his, "I want you to know that I have always and will always wish you happiness. You will make someone very happy one day, I'm absolutely certain of it, but mostly," he presses a quick kiss to her hand, "I thank you, for giving me something no one ever has before."

"What's that?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

"A choice," he whispers, and she smiles a teary smile.

"Go to your soul mate, Draco," she tells him, "and don't look back, you understand?"

He pulls her into his embrace, squeezes her as if his life depends on it, and backs away before breaking into a sprint across the garden. If he was to make it, he at least had to apparate to Weasleys before the night was over. But first, he had to get as far away from the manor as he could. Behind him, he could hear the commotion, and Mr Greengrasses furious voice bellowing.

"What do you mean he's gone?" the man shouts, Astoria's calmer voice trying to explain the situation best she could. Draco hid behind a large oak tree, far enough away to apparate safely. As he catches his breath, he hears Mrs Greengrass uncontrollably sobbing and wailing into the night like a hurt animal.

"Stood up! Our precious Astoria! You should be ashamed Narcissa, ashamed I tell you!"

"It's not like that!" Astoria's voice yelled, causing the ruckus to seize, "this is a mutual decision, mother."

"Our son would never do this without reason, Mrs Greengrass, please be assured," Narcissa tries to quell the situation, "there has to be a perfectly good explanation."

"He's in love with someone else," Daphne puts simply, and gasps from all around are heard throughout the night, "he has to be. Silly boy thinks he's hiding it well. Couldn't be more obvious if he said it out right."

"With who, exactly?" Narcissa asks frantically, "not once has he mentioned..." she trails off, remembering a slice of conversation between them, a small detail she should have paid much more mind to, when he asked "Would you and father resent me?"

"Narcissa!" Mr Greengrass says abruptly, "explain this mess or so help me-"

"If you speak to my wife in that tone again, Mr Greengrass, I think you may need to leave." Lucius says coolly, coming to stand before the man, who was much smaller in comparison.

"No need to worry, Lucius, as we are very much leaving," Mr Greengrass flares his nostrils, "girls, get your coats. Never again are we stepping foot in this house."

Mrs Greengrass, still sobbing and wailing, follows her husband back through the house. Daphne politely thanks Narcissa and Lucius with a sympathetic smile. As Astoria passes, she thinks twice about saying something, and then double backs on herself.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy," she calls back, and they both turn to face her, "Draco may not want me to intervene, but I must say this," She pauses, looking back as her father calls for her, "he has tried, for many months now, to gather the courage to marry how you wish. He has battled with his true feelings and the fear of disappointing you. Even I, and I realise now I had no place, tried to convince him that he must follow this path, and not the one he chooses for himself," another furious call from Mr Greengrass and Astoria begins backing away towards the glass doors, "please, if there's one thing I can ask of you, it's that you hear him out. Please."

"ASTORIA, IF YOU DON'T GET HERE RIGHT NOW-"

"Please, listen to him," are her final words as shes rushing back through the doors and out of sight, leaving Narcissa and Lucius in a state of utter confusion.

And just over the way, behind the large oak tree, Draco successfully apparates to the Weasley's home.

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

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#draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x female reader #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco imagine #draco angst #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hpff

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azastr · 10 months

Text

Hairbrushed Hearts

Draco Malfoy

Description : Draco developing a habit of doing Y/n's hair over the years

fluff

Draco's First Attempt

Draco sat on the edge of the bed in his dorm , Y/n seated in front of him on a cushioned stool. The dim candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow across the room as Draco ran his fingers through her unruly Y/hc hair. He had always found solace in the task of taming her locks, and tonight was no different. As he gently brushed through the strands, Y/n closed her eyes, leaning back into his touch.

"Draco, you have such a knack for this," she murmured, her voice filled with contentment.

He smirked, his fingers weaving effortlessly through her hair. "It's just one of my many talents, darling," he replied, his tone laced with playful arrogance. "Besides, I have to make sure you look presentable. Can't have my girlfriend running around with a mess on her head, now can I?"

Y/n chuckled, swatting him playfully on the arm. "You're insufferable, you know that?" she said, a fondness evident in her voice.

"But you love me anyway," Draco teased, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against her temple.

Habit Continues

It had been a few months since Draco and Y/n's wedding, and they were settling into their married life together. Draco was still adjusting to the idea of being married , but he couldn't deny the growing affection he felt for Y/n. One morning, as they sat together in their cozy living room, Y/n was struggling with her unruly hair.

"Draco, I can't seem to get my hair to cooperate today," she sighed, frustration evident in her voice. Her Y/hc locks tumbled around her shoulders in an untamed fashion.

Draco looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, let me have a go at it, love. You know my talent for taming your wild locks," he offered, a playful smile playing on his lips.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to expect. Nevertheless, she handed him a hairbrush and sat back, watching as Draco approached her with a newfound determination. His fingers gently sifted through her hair, unraveling the knots and taming the wild strands.

As he worked, Draco found himself growing more and more engrossed in the task. The silky texture of Y/n's hair slipped through his fingers, and he reveled in the intimate act of caring for her in this simple way. Gradually, the unruly tresses began to submit to his touch, transforming into a sleek and elegant style that framed Y/n's face.

When he finished, Draco stepped back to admire his handiwork. Y/n turned to look at herself in the mirror, her emerald eyes widening in surprise and delight. "Draco, you did it! You actually tamed my hair," she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Draco couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at her reaction. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. "Only for you, my darling," he murmured softly.

A Daily Ritual

Months turned into years, and Draco's newfound talent for styling Y/n's hair became a daily ritual. Each morning, they would sit in front of the vanity mirror in their shared bedroom, Draco standing behind Y/n with the hairbrush in hand. It had become their private moment, a way for them to connect and start the day in an intimate and loving manner.

Draco's fingers moved with practiced ease through Y/n's tresses, unraveling any knots and weaving them into intricate braids or elegant updos. Sometimes, he would experiment with different hairstyles, trying out new techniques he had learned from professional hairdressers or simply improvising.

Y/n would close her eyes, savoring the gentle touch of her husband's hands on her scalp. The sensation was soothing and comforting, a reminder of the love that had grown between them. She trusted Draco implicitly, allowing him to mold her hair into any style he desired, knowing that he would always make her look beautiful.

Occasionally, their son Scorpius would wander into their bedroom, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. At six years old, he had already developed a deep admiration for his father and a desire to emulate him in every way possible. He would perch himself on the edge of the bed, watching intently as Draco worked his magic on Y/n's hair.

"Can I help, Daddy?" Scorpius would ask, his voice filled with eagerness.

Draco would smile and ruffle his son's hair affectionately. "Of course, Scorp. Here, take this brush and try combing through Mummy's hair," he would say, passing Scorpius a smaller brush.

Father and Son Bonding

As the years went by, Draco noticed that Scorpius had developed a keen interest in hair styling, just like his father. It had become a shared passion between them, a way for them to bond and spend quality time together.

Draco and Scorpius would often find themselves in front of the vanity mirror, with Y/n sitting patiently between them. While Draco worked on one side of her head, Scorpius would take the other, mirroring his father's movements with a childlike enthusiasm.

Together, they would experiment with different hairstyles, laughing and joking as they tried to outdo each other. Sometimes, Scorpius would come up with imaginative creations that left both Draco and Y/n in fits of laughter.

As Scorpius combed through Y/n's hair, he would occasionally glance up at his mother, his eyes shining with adoration. "Mummy, you look so pretty," he would say, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Y/n would return his smile, her heart filled with warmth. "Thank you, sweetheart. You and Daddy make me feel beautiful every day," she would reply, her voice tinged with love.

A Shared Tradition

As time passed, the habit of doing Y/n's hair became a cherished tradition for the Malfoy family. It was something they looked forward to every morning, a moment of connection and love amidst the chaos of their daily lives.

Draco and Scorpius had become skilled in their craft, each with their own unique flair. They would take turns, one styling Y/n's hair while the other watched, ready to offer compliments or suggestions. It had become a dance of love, a symphony of trust and affection.

Sometimes, Y/n would join in the fun, attempting to style Draco or Scorpius' hair, much to their amusement. They would all end up in fits of laughter, hairbrushes and hair ties strewn across the room, as they playfully teased and styled each other.

Through the years, their love only grew stronger, intertwined with the simple act of taming Y/n's unruly locks. It was a constant reminder of their journey from enemies to lovers, a testament to the power of love and forgiveness.

In the quiet moments, as Draco's fingers glided through Y/n's hair, and Scorpius followed suit, the room would be filled with an unspoken understanding—a bond that transcended words. They were a family, united by love and the shared joy of caring for one another, one strand of hair at a time.

______________________________________________________________

I need someone to do my hair too

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happyyyandcrazyyy · 9 months

Text

liquid dreams (draco malfoy x reader)

summary: (y/n) is gone and if the only way for draco to see her is through dreams, so be it

“grief is the price we pay for loving.”

warnings: it’s written in non-chronological order, draco is really going through it, grieving process, mentions of blood (not detailed)

(if there’s any more warnings you think i should add let me know!)

a/n: i’m usually one to write fluff, but i wanted to write something more personal, more raw. this one was a roller coaster to write. hope you enjoy it!

i. five months and twelve days after the accident

Draco opens his eyes in panic, breathing labored and loud. He’s scared and confused, and he would be downright spiraling into an anxiety attack if this wasn’t such a common occurrence.

(The first night it’d happened he found himself unable to breath. He’d desperately stumbled out of bed, the haziness of sleep making everything distorted and disorienting. He’d hit his knee against the door, he’d bled on the white tiles of their bathroom floor. He’d spent two hours in the shower that night, fully clothed. The coldness of the water hadn’t been enough to soothe the burning heartbreak that gnaw on his soul, but it’d been enough to anchor him back.)

It takes him a moment to realize he’s frozen mid-action, one of his hands reaching forward and his fingers slightly curved, as if they’d been grasping something.

No. Not something. Someone.

Suddenly everything comes back, jumbled pieces of a half-remembered dream.

Her smile, the small crinkle by her eyes, the warmth of her skin under his fingertips.

Draco chokes out a gasp.

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

In desperation he reaches for his own throat and grips it tightly, just firmly enough to feel the thumping of his blood under his palm. The unsteady pulse tethers him to reality, reminds him that he’s still alive, helps him settle enough for air to fill his lungs.

He chokes out a gasp, coughs roughly.

Instinctively, almost as an afterthought, Draco reaches for her side of the bed only to immediately reel his hand back when he’s met with cold, unused sheets. It’s been months and he still doesn’t dare to sleep on her side, still keeps everything of hers untouched— her blue toothbrush by the sink, her favorite slippers, the book she left on the coffee table. He knows preserving her things won't bring her back, he does it anyways.

Draco sighs and the sound reverberates, taunts him. It’s a reminder that he’s all alone, a reminder that a room once filled with soft snores and gentle laughter is now quiet enough for him to hear the pounding of his own heart, a reminder that over the last couple of months everything around him has been slowly filling itself with grief and sadness and pain and regret.

No wonder Draco can’t sleep, he’s suffocating.

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, hard enough to have dotted spots of light fill his vision, firmly enough to keep the tears at bay. If he concentrates, he can still see the outline of the face he’d been dreaming about.

(Her, her, her. Always her.)

Once his heart settles and he can breathe properly, Draco reaches for the little vial by the bed. It’s already half empty. Without a second thought Draco downs the remaining liquid before tossing the glass aside, ignoring the way it smashes against the floor. He forces himself to lay still, wills his eyes to remain shut. He lulls himself back to sleep, lets the potion bring him under.

(It does not matter that waking up will feel like his soul is being carved out and his heart ripped out of his chest, that he cannot handle coming back to a reality where she’s gone. If dreams are the only place he can be with her, he’ll dream.)

The last thing he remembers before losing consciousness is turning to his side and hugging himself close; a poor attempt at replicating the safety her arms once provided.

ii. two weeks and six days after the accident

Narcissa Malfoy arrives through Floo Network on a Saturday morning. She turns up without a warning, completely uninvited, and makes herself at home. Draco reckons it’s partially his fault, after leaving the magical world he’d been the one that had insisted they connect their home to the Floo Network, for precaution. He’d never shared their location with his parents, but he isn’t surprised his mother had been able to easily locate him. She is a Malfoy, thoroughly resourceful.

She doesn’t hug him, neither does she make any attempt to offer words of condolences. Draco wasn’t expecting them, they’re Malfoys, after all; kind touches are scarce, gentle words even more so, but it still stings, like alcohol burning over a wrongly healed scab. His mother gives him a dismissive look, one that has Draco shrinking into himself.

“This is unacceptable,” is the first thing she says, voice as firm as the last time they spoke to each other, almost eight years ago. Draco can’t help the way he flinches. He doesn’t know if she’s talking about the state he’s in— because he's in disarray, hasn’t showered in three days, hasn’t changed clothes in even longer— or the mess around the house.

She steps closer, scrunches her nose and looks him over with something akin to disgust, then clicks her tongue in distaste.

“Go shower.”

Draco finds his feet moving before he can even process the instruction.

(It’s rattling, having her here after not seeing her for years. It’s also frightening how quickly he goes back to obeying her every order.)

As he showers Draco tries to shake himself out of the whirlwind of emotions that his mother’s presence has unleashed. It’s hard to do so when his mind feels as if it’s been split in half; one part mourning the loss of his wife and the other still expecting her to come home. He’s struggling to grasp his reality, trying to ignore the ever-growing emptiness in his chest. Draco closes his eyes and sighs deeply, he lets the cold water numb his skin, lets it steel him just enough to face his mother.

He thinks he’s handling himself better when he walks into the kitchen— new clothes on his skin and hair still wet —but then he catches his mother’s house-elf reaching for (Y/N)’s dirty wine glass, the one she left half empty when she walked out that night, and Draco loses it.

It’s been years since he’s used magic, but it’s instinctive the way he reaches for his wand. (He never did get rid of the habit of carrying it with him everywhere.) He points it at the creature, hand shaking, but voice surprisingly stern, “Do not touch her things.”

His vision blackens at the corners, blood rushing through his ears. He can’t let them erase the traces of her in their home. He can’t. He can't. Not right now, not when he sees pieces of her everywhere, not when his heart has an open wound that keeps on bleeding and Draco hopes he could just wake up from this hellish nightmare and go back to a place where she's still here, where she's still alive.

“Now, don’t be childish, Draco.” It isn’t until his mother speaks that he realizes that he’s been mumbling under his breath, loud enough for her to hear. His vision clears, the hazy feeling in his brain diminishes. He blinks back into reality, catches a glimpse of his mother’s impassive face from the corner of his eye, realizes the house-elf has backed away from the glass and is now bowing to him, limbs trembling in fear and nose almost touching the floor.

He lowers the wand slowly, almost mechanically, as he turns to his mother.

“You will not touch her things.”

She clicks her tongue. The sound makes him flinch away— because it always came before a slap in the wrist, or his ear being pulled tight — but he somehow manages to hold his ground, wand still held tightly, fingers becoming numb.

“You’re living in a dumpster, look at all the mess,” she gestures around the room with revulsion. Draco can’t see anything but residue of love around the house. It’s everywhere, in the doodled notes left on the fridge and the bottle of wine they never got to finish. He won’t let them take that away from him, take her away from him. Not yet. Not with his heart is still bleeding and missing and yearning.

“No touching,” he repeats himself. His voice doesn’t waver in the slightest, it sounds steadier than he feels, and there must be something in his semblance because his mother relents.

It’s with distaste that she spits out, “Fine, have it your way,” and sends the house-elf back home.

She doesn’t leave, however. She takes over the kitchen, the smell of sugar and cinnamon filling the air— and that’s how Draco knows she’s truly stressed, because his mother only ever bakes when she feels as if she’s losing control of the situation at hand and money can’t fix it. Draco swallows down the pastries when they’re placed in front of him and he’s given a pointed look. (He pretends they aren’t insipid; pretends they don’t feel like ash going down his throat. He doesn’t tell his mother that his appetite is mostly gone, that eating feels like an arduous task, that these days he throws up just about anything he eats. He doesn’t have the energy to do so, he reckons she wouldn’t care, anyways.)

Draco chews and chews and chews until it becomes a mechanical habit and then he disconnects his brain. He ignores the way the buttery, sweet smell that lingers around the house reminds him of the apple pie (Y/N) used to bake, he blinks away the tears when a little voice in the back of his head reminds him that he won’t ever get to taste it again.

His mother lingers in the background— just like she’d done when he’d been a child and she’d wanted to see how much he’d progressed on his French after a two-hour tutoring session, ready to make vile comments about his accent and his grammar —and Draco can’t do anything without hearing an offhanded mumble about how pathetic he’s being. Her lingering used to petrify him, it made him want to be perfect for her, but now it just irks him. Draco wants to yell at her to leave him the fuck alone, but his anger is feeble, and grief smothers the fire before it turns into rage. The words remain stuck at the back of his throat.

Sometimes, when the sorrow eases and Draco is lucid enough to pay attention, he catches the glimpses of annoyance in his mother’s eyes. He knows that the only reason she’s here is to play damage control, to make sure he doesn’t derail too far and tarnish their last name even further. (The reputation of the Malfoy family had taken a hard hit after the Second Wizarding War when his father had been declared guilty and sent to Azkaban. It’d only worsened when Draco failed to fulfill his responsibilities of stepping up as patriarch in his father’s absence, instead deciding to elope and disappear to the muggle world.) Draco also knows that his mother wishes for simple solutions, she expects to place a bandaid over his ruptured soul and have him immediately snap back to his younger self. That won’t ever happen— Draco won’t ever go back to who he used to be before meeting his wife, before discovering love and warmth and safety —and her slowly rising frustration is a sign that she’s beginning to realize that.

In the end it’s his inability to get out of bed that gets her to snap.

“I’ve had enough.”

Draco blinks up at her.

Today is a bad day, the kind of day where breathing hurts and the feeling of his heart pumping is just a reminder that he’s alive and she’s not, the kind of day where he feels as if he’s underwater and slowly drowning.

He sees her mouth moving, hears the distorted words she’s saying, but can’t engage. It’s like he’s watching her through a screen, witnessing a scene far removed from him.

“I’m done letting you play your childish games. I’ve been lenient enough.” Her irritation is palpable, but Draco can’t process it.

He’s sinking and sinking and sinking.

“Get up.”

Why is she yelling?

“Get up, Draco.”

He can’t.

“Unbelievable.” And now she’s grabbing the end of the sheets and pulling them off the bed. Draco can’t bring himself to care. He can’t bring himself to even lift a finger. It angers her. He might be slipping away, but he sees it in the way her mouth tightens into an ugly sneer. Instinctively, he prepares himself for the harshness that always accompanies that look.

“She was just a silly little girl, Draco.”

The words cut sharply through the water and the grief and the pain. Suddenly Draco isn’t sinking anymore, suddenly it’s like he’s been zapped with an electrical wire. The numbness is pushed to the back of his mind and replaced with something darker, something ugly.

His mother doesn’t stop there.

“I thought letting you have your fun would be enough. I thought you would grow tired of her.” And now his brain is functioning properly and the words are making sense and Draco can’t help the way his brows pull up in confusion. His mother notices, of course she does, and she lets out a mocking laugh, one that has Draco’s blood turning cold.

“What? You think you ran away and got married behind our backs?” she scoffs, arms crossing over her chest. “I knew all along, child. I let you run around and play out your foolish little fantasy of love. See how that turned out.”

Draco can’t breathe. There's pressure in his chest, tightening and contracting. Anger begins to ignite; it goes from a fleck to a small flame.

“It’s over, Draco. You’re coming home.”

He shakes his head, manages to find the strength to sit up. It’s the first time he’s moved in hours and his muscles protest.

“I am home.”

That makes her snort, a mixture of disgust and insulting laughter.

“This place?” His mother looks around in disgust. “This isn’t your home.”

She clicks her tongue.

“And that dumb girl? She’s dead,” she scoffs and under her breath adds, “and thank Salazar for that, all that mudblood ever did was stain our name.”

Anger takes over, the flame becomes a blazing inferno, scorching everything around, it runs hot through his veins until all that is left is unrestrained, seething rage. It’s the first time it’s burning enough to destroy.

And Salazar does Draco want to consume everything around him.

“Never talk about my wife that way again.”

The words come out strong for a voice that hasn’t been used in hours.

He doesn’t know when he moves but now he’s towering over her and his hands are shaking by his side.

Silly little girl.

Mudblood.

To dare use those words to describe the love of his life, someone who could light up a room with a single smile and could fix all troubles with a few kind words, makes Draco enraged.

Draco looks at his mother and he just wants her to hurt.

“You don’t know the first thing about love, so who are you to come preach about it, mother.” He spits the words with disgust, uses a tone he knows will sting.

He’s never talked back to her, ever, and her shock is evident in the way she gapes at him with disbelief.

“I won’t have you speaking to me in such—”

“Get the fuck out.”

Draco has never cursed at her before. He’s never interrupted her, either. His mother looks like she’s been slapped, like she doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of her.

“Draco—”

“Out.”

She looks him over one last time, something akin to disappointment in her eyes, before jutting her chin and slamming the door on her way out.

With a sigh, Draco walks back to bed and curls into himself. It doesn’t take long for the anger to evaporate and for him to slip back into despair, to sink and sink and drown.

Numb. Numb. Numb.

Hours, or maybe just minutes, later she comes back. Her tone has been schooled back into the indifferent one Draco is more than accustomed to. She tells him that she’s leaving because of his father, that ever since being released from Azkaban he hasn’t been coping well and she must return home to ensure his health. Draco doesn’t call her out on her bullshit, doesn’t even turn around to face her, he just hums.

Numb. Numb. Numb.

His mother doesn’t come back.

iii. five days after the accident

It feels like floating through a dream, everything hazy and limbs lethargic. He goes through the motions out of pure muscle memory, mind disconnected and hidden somewhere far away. It’s like an outer body experience, as if he's watching himself move and talk without having any true control over it. He hurts so deeply, and the pain is so raw that Draco pushes it away and stores it in a dark place in the corner of his mind, a place where it can’t kill him. He takes all other emotions, too, until nothing but numbness is left behind.

Reality doesn’t seem real, because how can the world keep moving and the sun rising and the birds chirping if she’s gone. How can his heart keep beating if hers doesn’t?

The muggles at work worry about him, even with his mind clouded by grief he can tell. Mrs. Bailey, the kind older lady for who he works by serving tables and mopping floors, hugs him tightly when he walks into the cafe shop less than a week after the accident. She doesn’t say a thing about him missing work, but rather pulls him close, shushing him gently and running a hand through his hair. It's a motherly act Draco is unfamiliar with. Her eyes show so much sympathy, but Draco doesn’t let himself think too much about that because that might end up causing him to spiral, and he won't allow himself to slip (he can't let himself slip, last time he slipped he spent hours in the bathroom floor, pulling at his hair to try to ground himself back to reality, biting down on his lip and bleeding).

Her hug should provide some sort of comfort, but Draco can't feel a thing. That should make him sad, and maybe it does, but all emotions are muted, and he doesn't even try to understand them.

His coworkers are also gentle with him, so much so that if he were in his right mind Draco would find it annoying, but he allows it because he feels as if a single wrong touch might break him apart beyond repair.

They try to reach out to him, too, but Draco finds himself hiding away at home, rejecting every offer to hang out or keep him company. He wishes to be alone— even when the loneliness sometimes claws up his throat and suffocates him —so he can wallow in the waves of sorrow and let them pull him under.

Draco wants to hurt, he thinks, because at least then he’s feeling something.

He floats away in dreams of despair and struggles to find a will to live, sometimes he’s not even capable of picking himself up from bed, and the only reason he doesn’t starve is because Mrs. Bailey drops him leftovers every night.

Draco is so unbelievably grateful for her, even if he doesn’t verbalize it, even if he just nods and offers him a half smile and closes the door in her face. He hopes she knows.

iv. two months and four days after the accident

Draco wouldn’t say he has withdrawn into himself, Pansy thinks otherwise. She never says so— she wouldn’t, she’s been unbelievingly gentle with him the last couple of months, far kinder than Draco ever thought her capable of being — but Draco overheard her talking to Blaise, tone filled with worry.

And Draco, well, he’s dealing as best as he can. It’s just hard to function properly when the sadness never settles and instead becomes stronger, grips his heart and squeezes at the most unexpected moments. Some days are good, and other days he’s drowning and sinking and choking on grief, always halfway through a nervous breakdown. Those days he can’t leave his bed, he can’t even eat, breathing and moving become the most painful tasks. Draco will admit he has become more quiet, more absent, but withdrawn feels like going too far.

In the past, he would've argued with Pansy that he hasn't withdrawn into himself, that he's alright, that he's managing as much as he can. In the past, he would've petulantly argued that she just doesn’t get it, explained that everything hurts and maybe— if ever under the influence of Firewhisky —might’ve even confessed that he feels as if sadness has its clutches so deep into his heart that the wound is slowly getting infected, admitted that he’s scared it will never heal. But this isn’t the past and Draco is nothing but the broken pieces of who he used to be, so he doesn’t open his mouth. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t call her out for speaking about him behind his back, doesn't even try to contradict her.

Existing is tiring and Draco just doesn’t have the energy to spare.

Pansy watches him with something akin to pity and fear, like she can see how he's fading and is scared he'll disappear if she looks away. (Draco doesn't blame her. Some days it does feel as if he could vanish, as if his body could fade into nothingness, as if his mind could give in into despair and anger and just never return. Part of him had hoped time would soothe the emptiness in his heart, but it’d been like applying salve on an open wound. Time hadn’t done a fucking thing.)

And it’s just because he doesn’t have any fight left in him that Draco lets Pansy be— he allows her to coddle him, he eats as much as he can muster when she begs and drinks the tea she prepares before leaving at night. It’s the only reason he’s here right now, back in wizarding London and walking at a stagnating pace through Diagon Alley, because Pansy said fresh air and a change of scenery would do him good and Draco just didn’t have it in him to argue.

He tugs at the hood of the cloak he’s wearing— it’s an old one of his, one Pansy found buried in the depths of his closet, one that fits awkwardly and smells musty but does a good enough job at concealing his distinguishing silver hair— and follows closely behind her.

It’s weird, he thinks to himself, being back in the wizarding world after many years spent in muggle London. He can’t deny that there’s a sense of familiarity at seeing and feeling the magic around, a warm tugging in his chest— probably his own dormant magic, one that hasn’t been used for far too long, responding to the energy around him —but there’s also an underlying sense of unsettledness.

He’d promised (Y/N) to return to the magic world once tension lessened and things sorted themselves out. They were meant to walk these streets together. Draco walks them all alone.

Something twists uncomfortably in his chest. He’s grown accustomed to the pain, so he pushes it down and allows Pansy to grab the hem of the cloak and pull him into a shop.

The smell hits him first, it's a mixture of wet parchment and mint with a hint of licorice. Surrounding him are what feels like a thousand objects— some small, some larger —but all unrecognizable to Draco. It's uncomfortable to see with his own eyes how the magical world has kept on evolving, even after they left. It's even more unbearable that his first reaction is to turn around to meet (Y/N)'s eyes, only to find his side empty. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, one that intertwines itself with melancholy and agony.

Draco distracts himself by looking around. Pansy follows him around for a while, and after realizing that he won't suddenly burst out into tears and collapse (which Draco can't blame her for believing as it has happened before) she leaves him to buy whatever she came here for.

It's as he's mindlessly looking through the stands, fingers flickering uninterested through small parchment pieces that transcribe whatever is mumbled to them, that Draco sees them; small vials, no bigger than his thumb, containing a blueish substance. There's a tag sticking to the lid. Draco moves closer, turns the paper around gently and is met with neatly written, italicized words.

He skips over the first few words, eyes drawn to the last few sentences.

"Our amazing liquid formula lets you control your dreams so you can visualize any event that has happened in the past with vivid detail. Imagine being able to wake up feeling like you just spent the night with your childhood best friend who moved away 10 years ago, or a loved one who has passed away. All it takes is a few drops before bed and voilà! You chose the memory, and we do the rest. The opportunities are endless with our state-of-the-art formula that helps you unlock the past and immerse yourself in memories like never before. Make sure to..."

Liquid Dreams, they call it.

Draco buys a few vials before he's even done reading the tag.

v. two months and three weeks after the accident

Draco stares at the little vial, unblinking. Somewhere out in the living room there's an old clock, the type they don't really fabricate anymore, antique, made of old deep wood and with its classic curvy shape. It's quiet enough that Draco can hear it ticking all the way to the master bedroom.

Tick. Tock.

The vial remains where it was placed by Draco when he bought it almost three weeks ago, contents untouched. It mocks him, an unwanted reminder that he could see her again if he wasn’t such a coward.

Tick. Tock.

He steps closer, reaching out for the glass, before hesitating and backing away, resuming his pacing around the room. The sole of his foot hits the wooden ground soundlessly, the lack of noise makes him feel all the more alone.

Tick. Tock.

Draco chews on his lower lip, makes it bleed. All he wants is within his reach, but he's so fucking scared. Because what happens if he sees (Y/N), or the memory of her, and it does nothing to soothe the burning in his heart. He'd be doomed then, destined to walk the rest of his life with a bleeding wound in his soul, destined to dance with grief until his feet ache and blister and his body just gives up and he dies, too. Draco’s heart wouldn’t survive that.

Tick. Tock.

But then again, a little voice chimes at the back of his head, it can’t get worse than this. It can’t get worse than days that blur into one another, than the way he loses control of his mind, fog condensing in his head, and he blinks awake only to find himself in a place he can’t remember walking to. It can’t get worse than coming back home to an empty house, a cold bed, to solitude, with his heart feeling so heavy it weights him down. It definitely cannot get worse than it is because he’s already missing her with his every breath, with every beat of his heart.

Tick. Tock.

It comes from somewhere within him, the sudden impulse, a surge of energy that has him moving forward to undo the lid. He tips the blue substance back, swallows it down in one go before he can second guess himself. No going back now. In the rush, Draco forgets to think of a specific moment.

Tick. Tock.

The taste is strange, indescribable: sweet and bitter all at once. Draco can feel the liquid burning as it goes down, it leaves an aftertaste that lingers heavily in his mouth. It tastes weirdly artificial, like someone tried hard to make it taste like fruits and flowers but failed, he can feel it at the back of his throat. The effect of the potion is almost instantaneous, the abruptness hitting Draco strongly and making him stumble into the side of his bed.

Tick.

He tries to fight the exhaustion, but it’s like his eyelids are trying to shut themselves together. Draco can do nothing but give in to sleep, let himself be swept under.

Tock.

When he opens his eyes, he isn’t lying in bed anymore. The sun shines brightly in the sky, it makes him squint and look away. He recognizes the smell immediately, salty and musky, like seaweed and sunscreen. Draco knows where he is— the beach near Sussex to which they apparated once they left the Wizarding World all those years ago —and he knows exactly who is behind him. With his heart beating so hard it’s almost painful, Draco turns around to be greeted with a smile he knows too well, one he could paint with his eyes closed.

(Y/N).

Her eyes crinkle with mirth. Something within Draco deflates. It feels as if, for the first time since the accident, he can finally breathe.

When he wakes up in the morning, Draco tells himself he'll be careful with the potion, won't abuse it. But he finds himself chugging down the blue liquid every night, buys a box of Liquid Dreams and keeps the vials hidden under his bed.

Anything to see her one more time.

vi. six months and a day after the accident

Draco could choose any memory, he knows that, and sometimes he does. He picks the first time they kissed (under the snow during a trip to Hogsmeade), he revisits their arrival to the beach near Sussex (because she’d never seen the beach before, had never felt the sand under her toes, and Draco basks on the feeling of her happiness), he relieves their short honeymoon (the dinner under the moonlight, the wandering hands, the stolen kisses, the feeling of her breath against his cheek and her skin pressed right against his). Most of the times, however, he brings himself back to that night. It isn’t intentional, it happens when he doesn’t focus hard enough on a memory, almost as if his mind wishes to torture him further. Because it is torture, going back to their last moments together— to the last time he ever saw her alive —without the blissful ignorance of what’s to come.

On nights like that he wakes with his heart ready to leap out his chest, sometimes halfway through a panic attack, tears cascading down his cheeks, and then he lays awake for the rest of the night, pulling himself together piece by piece, stitching the metaphorical laceration on his heart with deep breaths, before forcing himself to go through the motions, get through the day.

The sadness never disappears, it follows him like a shadow on the sunniest of days. Sometimes it seems to grow smaller— or maybe Draco gets used to its looming presence, it’s darkness —and it gives space to anger, which settles between his ribs and climbs all the way up to his throat and burns. Sometimes it feels as if the rage will seep out of his pores, tainting him. He’s angry at everything, at the world, at her, at himself. Waking up every morning to a reality in which she’s gone makes the anger increase by a tenfold, it’s so so fucking painful, but at night, when he sees her and feels her and holds her— even if it’s just in memories and dreams —the feeling mellows and that’s why he must return to her, must drink the cloudy blue potion every night, because if he doesn’t he knows the mixture of grief and rage and resentment will consume him.

It isn’t a problem, it really isn’t— so what if he sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night screaming for her to stay, what if sometimes he wishes he could stay in his dreams to keep on holding her close, what if coming back to reality just makes the whole in his heart deeper, that’s no one’s business but his own. That is, until he starts seeing her outside the dreams.

It begins with shadows, the outline of her body. Draco blinks once, twice, and then it’s gone.

“Malfoy? You good?”

He meets his coworker’s eyes. Mark is young, barely twenty, started working in the restaurant only a couple of months ago. He wasn’t here when Draco lost (Y/N), didn’t get to see the way he broke down and pieced himself back together, didn’t experience the gentleness and leniency with which they all treated him, but he seems to be acutely aware that something happened because he’s soft with him too.

“What?”

Mark cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing, “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Draco thinks he might’ve. He decides to blame it on the lack of proper sleep.

“I’m fine.”

But he’s not fine, because he keeps seeing her. It becomes more recurrent as time goes on, and (Y/N)’s ghost goes from being a just dark shape to taking full on corporeal form. He can even see the little freckles on her skin.

It’s concerning.

Draco knows she’s not real, not really, just the remnants of a memory, a side effect of drinking Liquid Dreams every night when the wizarding company that produces the potion suggests a maximum of two vials per week.

He should stop.

He doesn’t.

He can’t.

He keeps on tipping the vial back, drinking the liquid, making a grimace at the flavor. He keeps being a spectator from within his own body, keeps going back to that night.

It's the only way to be with her.

It always starts the same way, the smell of garlic and oregano in the air, the soft jazz tune playing in the radio. Draco finds himself moving without his own permission, the glass of wine he holds in his hand guiding itself towards his mouth. He's long learned that the experience is gentler for his mind, and overall better, if he doesn't fight it. It's useless, anyhow, he can't change what already happened, he's just reliving his memories.

"Merlin, that smells so good," his voice sound foreign to his ears. He reaches forward to hug (Y/N) from behind, swaying her to the beat of the song and humming the last notes against her skin. She smiles and tips her head back a little, enough to allow him to place a chaste kiss to her neck. Draco's heart tightens at the ease in which they move around one another, the familiarity of her body pressed to his own.

"It's your favorite," she responds gently, moving the wooden spoon with which she's mixing the sauce towards him, tipping it back so he can taste it. It's thick and buttery, rich and only slightly sweet, just like he likes it.

Draco groans playfully, presses his forehead to the crook of her neck.

"I'm the luckiest man."

"And don't you forget it," she teases, moving aside to let him take over. She steals the glass of wine from his hand and moves away giggling when Draco makes a poor attempt at following after her. She drinks the remaining alcohol, sticking her tongue out at him.

He feels his throat close up, melancholy settling deep within his bones. He tries to memorize the curve of her smile, the sound of her laughter. Draco wishes he could change what comes next, wishes he could instead rush forward and capture her lips in a kiss, make her stay with him. He can't, because that’s not what he did that night. Instead, he rolls his eyes, soft laughter falling from his lips. It’s ironic how he’s laughing in his memory, but slowly dying inside as he forces himself to live this moment over and over again.

From the corner of his eye, Draco watches as (Y/N) refills the glass, taking a small sip. He cleans up some pieces of onion, listening as (Y/N) sings softly to herself, the cadence of her voice is smooth, it flows and mixes effortlessly with the one coming from the radio. Draco could hear her sing forever. There's a light patter of rain against the window as he preheats the oven, so he closes the window to prevent any water from slipping in.

It's a slow night, a Saturday night, the type of nights in which they'll cook together and drink a bit, and then some more, and dance drunkenly around the kitchen only to end up in their bedroom, discarding their clothes and rediscovering each other's bodies.

It should've ended that way.

It won't.

Don't say it. Don't say it.

"Hey, love, where did you put the mozzarella? Can't find it on the fridge."

There's a small, soft, "Oh, shit," in the background. Her singing stops. The rain becomes heavier.

"Forgot to buy it," she replies, already moving for the keys to their small car.

It's alright, he wants to scream out, we don't need it. Stay. I'll cook something else. Don't leave.

What falls out of his mouth instead is, "My forgetful little one."

Please stay. Please.

She scrunches her nose up, just the way she always does when he calls her by that nickname. Draco always thought it made her look cute. Now it only makes him want to cry. She crosses the room, presses a quick kiss to his lips.

"I'll be back soon."

He's yelling inside his own head, can feel the dread settling somewhere in his stomach.

Please don't leave.

Don't go.

Stay.

"Be safe," he calls out. He rages within himself, desperate to do something different, say something different.

I love you, and it feels like his throat is going raw with how loud he's crying out. He tries to open his mouth, to move, to do anything, but it's futile.

Because that night, (Y/N) walks out the door, and Draco doesn't tell her he loves her one last time.

vii. seven years, three months and two days before the accident

Draco falls in love quick and hard, and once he realizes it, he's in too deep. He doesn't know how it happens, he just knows that one day he looks at (Y/N)— watches the way snowflakes fall on her hair, slowly painting it white, and how she looks up the sky as if it's her first time ever seeing the snow, smile so bright it makes something in Draco's chest tighten —and he thinks to himself yeah, fuck, I would spend the rest of my life by her side.

(And Draco can't pinpoint where along the line he fell in love, but he knows precisely why. It's all in the way her laugh floats around the air and settles somewhere within his heart, the sound soft and comforting, and how her eyes become gentle when they set on him, like she can see through him and wishes to take away anything that could cause him harm. It's the soft caresses of his hair, the delicate kisses to his forehead, the way in which her hand subconsciously searches for his. It's in the way that (Y/N) sees all parts of him, including the dark and ugly, the sides of himself that he's ashamed of, and she doesn't flinch away in disgust, but rather pulls him closer. It's the way she loves, so effortlessly, and the way she teaches Draco how to be better every day, a better human, a better friend, a better lover.)

Falling in love is not something he ever planned on doing, the last thing Draco wanted was to drag someone into the mess that was his life, but by the time he has half a mind to think about stopping it, his heart has already crawled out of its place deep within his chest and has settled in (Y/N)'s hand, where it's being tenderly held and thoroughly cherished. It might just be the worse time to be thinking of love— because, despite what the Ministry of Magic insists on, the Dark Lord is back, and the unmistakable mark that contrasts his father's pale skin has never been darker, and there's people with masks coming and going around the Manor, and slowly the pressure on Draco's shoulders is piling and piling and piling and he's beginning to feel like he can't breathe— or maybe it's just the right time. After all, (Y/N) is like a breath of fresh air, like warm, soothing hands on his blemished soul. Draco feels weightless when he's around her, like all his troubles are unimportant and nothing in the world matters but the two of them. He feels at peace, like he can finally rest.

She becomes his best friend, his confidant, and so much more. Draco loves her, can't think of a life without her, wants to keep her safe, wants to be with her.

Maybe that's the reason why a couple of years later, when the Second Wizarding War comes to an end and they're holding each other close after the Battle of Hogwarts, skin torn open, wounds still oozing blood, muscles aching, but both of them undeniably still alive, that Draco cups her face between his hands and whispers against her lips, "Let's start a new life, you and I."

They do.

They leave a shattered Wizarding World behind. They escape the clutches of Draco's family. They abandon magic.

It's the beginning of the happiest eight years of Draco's life. It's also the beginning of the end.

Years down the line, a bottle of Firewhisky in hand and alcohol running through his veins, Draco will wonder if he should've kept quiet, if they should've stayed instead. They would not have been together, his family would've never allowed the union between a Malfoy and a muggleborn, but at lease she would still be alive.

viii. the accident

(Y/N) dies on a Saturday. Her favorite day of the week.

Draco is waiting for her, fingers working steadily to knead the dough for their dinner. She hasn't been gone long, maybe half an hour, but in that time, he's changed the radio station from soft jazz to something more pop. He knows she'll bicker about the music when she's back, will pout and definitely win that battle— because if there's one thing Draco is weak for, it's her —but for now Draco enjoys the bubblegum boyband music that's playing.

Outside, the rain has grown stronger, and the wind howls, creating a low whistling noise that resonates around the kitchen.

The landline phone rings, and Draco's already halfway through teasing her about forgetting her keys and the umbrella— something along the lines that the only reason she doesn't lose her head is because it's permanently attached to her body —when he picks up the phone.

"I'll come out to get you, but you'll owe me a kiss." He's already gripping the umbrella by the handle.

"Uh, I'm sorry, is this the Malfoy residency?"

The grin falls off his face immediately. The voice on the other side is deep and gruff, muffled by the static and the rain. Draco doesn't recognize it.

"Who is this?"

There is no gut feeling, no intuition to tell him there might be something wrong. It doesn't sink in that this has to be about (Y/N) until the voice starts talking again.

The man introduces himself, but Draco forgets the name by the time he's done hearing it.

"Sir, there's been an accident. Your wife..."

It's like Draco's heart falls to the bottom of his stomach.

The umbrella drops to the floor, a loud thud resonating around the room.

He can't breathe.

The man keeps going, his voice getting increasingly shaky as he keeps on explaining the situation, and Draco catches only pieces of what he's saying.

The rain.

A crash.

Dead on impact.

He really can't breathe.

For a second there's nothing but silence in his mind, stillness, and then there's everything all at once. Draco goes from being unable to hear his own breathing to being hyperaware of his surroundings. He can hear the static of the radio behind him, the light buzzing of the electricity in the bulb above his heads, the sizzling of the sauce, the pain on his feet where the umbrella landed before rolling to the floor, the ticking of the old clock (Y/N) bought. He suddenly can't control his body, can't control how he backs away slowly, tugging at the phone's cord— is he moving slowly? He thinks he is, he can't tell, everything around him is distorted— can't help it when his knees weaken beneath him and his hands tremble.

He grips the counter to steady himself.

He wheezes, tries to bring some oxygen into his lungs.

This can't be happening. This cannot be happening.

He saw her less than forty minutes ago. She was going to the store to get cheese. What do you mean dead on impact? What do you mean she's gone. She can't be. She'll be walking through the door any minute now, soaked because she forgot her umbrella. She'll pout about the pop music and Draco will begrudgingly agree to playing more jazz and they'll dance around the kitchen as they wait for dinner to be ready. She's not dead. She cannot be dead. They had survived a war, she cannot be dead.

"I'm sorry, sir." The words are garbled, but somehow, despite his distress, Draco manages to make sense of them.

"I, uh—"

"There's an officer here who wishes to speak with you, sir."

There's shuffling. Draco closes his eyes, presses his forehead against the cool counter. Merlin, this cannot be happening. This has to be a nightmare; this can't be real. It doesn't feel real.

"Am I speaking with Mr. Malfoy."

Draco hates to be called that; it reminds his too much of his father. His voice is soft, and it breaks when he responds, "Yes."

The policeman must hear it because his tone becomes slightly gentler, but no less formal. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, sir, but we need you to identify the body."

The body. Not (Y/N). The body. Draco clenches his jaw hard enough for it to hurt.

He doesn't mean to do it, but he's struggling to tether himself to reality and the officer is awaiting a response, talking to him so softly it's making him dizzy, so Draco does what he knows how to do best; he slips the Malfoy mask on, places it tight enough that it won't fall down and then tightens it further to prevent any cracks.

The mask stays on longer than he intends it to. He wears it to sleep that night, wakes up with it in the morning. It accompanies him to the morgue, loosens a little around the edges when he's forced to make the identification, but stays on otherwise. It keeps him from feeling anything, from facing reality, from breaking down in front of complete strangers who are already looking at him with so much pity. It doesn't really slip off until the funeral, when Draco watches her be lowered into the ground.

She's gone.

Something within him snaps, breaks beyond repair. The mask shatters against the ground.

He cries for the first time that day and it feels as if he never stops crying afterwards.

ix. eight months and eighteen days after the accident

He's doing groceries when it happens. From the corner of his eye, he can see the shape of (Y/N), always lingering, present ever since the day Draco saw her outside of the dreams for the first time. It's eerie. Draco hasn't grown accustomed to it— to her? He doesn't think he ever will. It's one thing to see her in his memories, within his dreams, because he knows she isn't real. It becomes more difficult to discern reality from dreaming when he constantly sees her in real life. (He tries reaching out to touch her once, recently woken up and still a little sluggish with sleepiness. His hand meets nothing but air. Draco jerks his hand back, runs to the bathroom to be sick.)

A part of him, at the beginning, thought that having her around with him every moment of the day would lessen the heavy weight around his chest, evaporate the remains of grief, but this isn't her, just a ghost of his wife.

Draco's so focused on ignoring the hallucination— its blank, emotionless face, the eyes that follow him around —and trying to manage the raging headache he's had since he woke up, that it takes him a while to notice the tapping on his shoulder. It's only when it becomes insistent that he turns around.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but you're bleeding."

For a moment the words don't make sense. Then, Draco feels the sticky substance running down his cupid's bow. His fingers come back red when he reaches to touch it.

The woman, small and old, offers him a blue handkerchief with a kind smile, "Take care, kid. It's been oddly warm these days."

Draco knows the nosebleed isn't in any way related to the heat, but he nods and thanks her anyways.

She lets him keep the handkerchief, "It was my late husband's. I have a feeling you'll be needing it more than I will", and over the next couple of days Draco uses it more often than he would like to admit.

It only gets worse from there. Nausea, vomiting, body tremors.

Draco knows it's the potion, but he can't bring himself to stop. He must see her. He keeps on tipping his head back and chugging the misty liquid.

Most days he wakes up exhausted, the bags under his eyes no longer disguisable. He's irritable, he snaps at the smallest of things. Mrs. Bailey tells him to take some days off, the concern evident in her eyes. It just angers him. He's alright. More than alright. He gets to see his dead wife every night, he keeps her alive. He's fine.

But then he isn't because his body begins to slowly shut down. He starts feeling feverish, fog condenses his head. He lays in bed and time becomes a foreign concept. He's sweating, hot and cold at the same time, it's like he's boiling from the inside and can't escape it. He sees (Y/N), standing at the corner. Is this a dream? Everything sways around him, the world tilts. He can't talk, can't move. He falls unconscious. But not before reaching for the little glass vial and its addicting blue contents.

He blinks awake to the dream.

It's always the same. Garlic. Oregano. Jazz music in the radio. A glass of almost finished wine in his hand.

"Merlin, that smells so good."

He hugs her from behind, sways her to the beat of the song. She twists around in his arms.

She twists around in his arms?

"We need to talk."

It's her voice, Draco would recognize it anywhere, soft and velvety. But she never said those words. She couldn't have said those words. Draco has relieved this memory seventy-three times, he knows.

She steps away, takes his hand, and the scenery around them swiftly changes. The background becomes distorted, it melts down and reconstructs itself. It makes Draco dizzy, the sudden change from dimmed lights and rainy weather to a bright sunny day. They're at the beach near Sussex.

This has never happened before. This shouldn't be happening. Draco opens his mouth, tries to swallow down the bright panic flaring in his chest, and finds out he can speak. This isn't a memory anymore.

"How are you—? You shouldn't be—" He stops himself, looks around. The beach is just as he remembers it, the air is hot, but the breeze is cool. It smells like seaweed and fish. In his memory (Y/N) is smiling. She isn't smiling now, just studying him carefully. "You're dead."

Draco has never said those words out loud before. The pain in his chest, the one that hasn't settled since the accident, burns and then becomes lighter.

"I am," she confirms. She doesn't sound sad, it's almost as if she's just stating facts. The sky is blue and (Y/N) is dead.

When he remains frozen, mind still going haywire, so she takes him by the hand and tugs him along. They walk closer to the ocean. Her hand is warm against his.

"How is this happening?"

She looks back at him, offers a gentle smile, and Draco knows his wife well enough that he recognizes the look in her eyes. You already know. It all clicks in his head. He focuses on the water, realizes that the waves aren't moving as they should, notices that the image is slightly deformed and misshaped. His mind is creating all of his, everything around him is becoming blurry because he never walked close to the shore. (Y/N) figure remains sharp and clear because her image is safely stored in Draco's mind.

"You're not you," he whispers to himself.

She stops dead in her track, turns around to meet his gaze. There's a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, as if she knows something he doesn't.

"Aren't I?"

"This is all happening inside my head. It's a dream."

"That does not mean it's not real."

She sits on the ground, not caring about the sand staining her clothes, and it's such a (Y/N) thing to do that Draco's heartstrings tighten and a part of his mind can't believe it isn't her. She pats the ground and he sits beside her.

They remain quiet for some time. (Y/N) plays with the sand, picking it between her fingers before allowing the breeze to take it away. She gives him time to gather his thoughts, and there's so much Draco want to say. So much. But it's like the words are stuck at the back of his throat and he can't manage to spit them out.

She speaks first, keeps on picking up sand and letting it go.

"You're killing yourself," her tone is soft, but there's a certain harshness in her words. It isn't at all what Draco was expecting to hear.

"What?"

(Y/N) turns to meet his gaze, eyes firm, "You're drinking the potion every night, are you not? You're getting headaches, nausea, nosebleeds. You're seeing me outside the memories."

Draco could lie, but she would see right through him.

"I am."

She nods absentmindedly, like he's just confirming what she already knows. Her gaze leaves his face and sets on the horizon.

"You'll die." There's a slight tremor to her voice, the kind she used to get when she was a few words away from crying.

"Is that so bad?"

She snaps her head back to him, tears on the corner of his eyes. "Don't say that," and her words are tainted with a rigidness he isn't accustomed to.

Her tone should unsettle him, but Draco pushes, "I would get to be with you, wouldn't I?"

She shakes her head. "There's so much left for you to live, Draco. So much."

Draco is the one to look away now, he tries to reign in the anger. She doesn't understand because she's the one that left, she's not the one that has to deal with the ever-growing emptiness and sadness and grief. Draco is the one that stayed. He's the one that was left all alone to cope, to try to find ways to live without her. He's the one that feels her absence, every day with every breath.

"What's the point if you're not around to live it with me."

He looks back just in time to see her eyes soften around the edges. She looks sad now, apologetic.

(Y/N) reaches for his hand and Draco lets her take it.

"Then live it for the both of us. Live it for me."

Just like that Draco deflates, he focuses on the circles her thumb rubs against the back of his palm.

"I just miss you," he confesses, "so so much. You wouldn't understand."

Her grip tightens.

"I know."

"I just want to be with you."

"I know, I know." There's a heaviness in her features, a twinge of pain in the corner of her lips and between her brows. Draco, for a moment, wonders if he's wearing a matching expression, if they both carry the hollowness in their hearts. "I'm sorry I left you." She comes closer, cradles his face the same way Draco did when he suggested they run away all those years ago. He wants to tell her she doesn't need to apologize, that it isn't her fault, but her words soothe some sort of internal ache. "I'm sorry about all the things that could've been but won't ever be." His throat constricts. He thinks about all the things they promised each other (to grow old together, to start a family), doesn't notice the tears falling down his cheeks until she wipes them away. (Y/N) presses her forehead against him, whispers the words against his lips, "I'm so sorry, my love."

Draco shatters, grips her wrists to anchor himself. The sobs that leave his mouth are muffled, quiet, but he knows (Y/N) hears them by the way her hold on his face becomes firmer. She hums, a soft jazz song, the one that was playing the night she died, and lets him cry to his heart's content.

It isn't until he quiets down, sobs becoming hiccups, that she pulls away. She lets her eyes trail over his face, brushes her thumbs against his cheeks and pulls a strand of hair out of his face. Her eyes are sad as she mumbles, "Trapping yourself in our memories and living off the past isn't going to bring me back."

Draco knows. He knows. But he can't bear the idea of never seeing her again, of never holding her, of never hearing her voice.

"I need more time with you."

She smiles softly, "We got eight years of nothing but happiness, my love. That's much more than what many lovers get."

"A lifetime by your side wouldn't have been enough."

It's true. Draco could've lived a thousand lives with her, and it would've never been enough. His soul craved her with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. No amount of time would've been enough.

"I love you." He needs to say it, needs her to hear the words coming from his own lips. "I didn't get to say it that day, when you left, but I do. I love you so much."

"I know."

Draco blinks up at (Y/N), finds her already staring back. In that moment, there's nothing but her.

"Draco, baby, you could've never uttered those words to me again, and I would've known. I felt it in every touch and every look. It was all around us. I know you love me, and you know just how much I love you too."

And Draco does know. Love is raw and primal; it leaves an indelible mark one must carry forever. Love builds and it shatters, it heals and burns. Draco presses his forehead against her collarbone and sighs, people leave, and they die, but their love stays. He loves her, will always love her, and she loves him too, even in death.

The dream begins to melt, to fold into itself. The colors blend together. (Y/N) begins to pull away and Draco panics, grips her a little tight.

"Please stay with me."

There's desperation in his tone, anguish.

(Y/N) comes back close, softly presses her lips against his. "I'm always with you," she whispers as she back away. "Here," she taps right above his heart, the place where her name is branded on his skin, "and here," she presses her finger to his temple.

Everything disintegrates.

When he comes back to himself it's due to a sound. He tries to open his eyes, but they feel too heavy, so it takes him a while to gather enough strength to do so. His tongue is heavy on his mouth, dry. The sweat is making his clothes stick to his skin. Draco feels like he could throw up at any moment.

He thinks of (Y/N).

I'm always with you.

The sound persists in the background. At first it appears to come from far away, it's muted and dull, as if he's hearing it from under water, but it becomes clearer as the haze slowly disappears from his mind. It takes Draco some time to recognize it; someone is pounding on the door.

He would move to open it if he could regain control of his limbs.

It appears like his presence isn't even needed because after a thunderous bang— which Draco somehow recognizes as his door being broken down —the pounding stops. Draco should be worried, someone is inside his house, he can hear the footsteps approaching, but he can't bring himself to care.

I'm always with you.

Blaise walks into his room, eyes frantic and unfocused.

They settle on him and there's a flash of anger before it twists into something more worried, something closer to panic. He looks like he just stumbled across a corpse.

Blaise's eyes dart around the room and Draco can tell the moment he notices the small glass vials that he never bothered to clean up because Blaise's face tightens, "You idiot."

And he's upset, Draco knows he is, can hear it in his voice, but Blaise is still walking forward and kneeling by the side of his bed. He's upset, but his eyes hold on so much concern.

"What have you done?"

The words are whispered, Blaise presses the back of his hand to Draco's forehead, ever so gentle, and Draco can't help it, he catches a peek of (Y/N)'s ghost looming over Blaise's shoulder, smiling softly at him before softly shattering and disappearing, and the tears begin to fall. He's still a little out of it, a little feverish, still thinking of his dream.

I'm always with you.

Draco clenches his fists. He doesn't feel the nails digging into his skin, deeper and deeper, until Blaise places his hands over his own and softly coaxes them open, "It's okay. You're okay."

Blood flows freely down his palm. It doesn't even sting. Nothing can ache more than his heart.

Draco shakes his head. Nothing is okay, it hasn't been okay since the day she died.

Blaise sighs softly, "I know."

Draco doesn't know if he muttered the words or if his best friend can read his mind.

"I just miss her," it comes out watery and weak, but Draco doesn't even care. He's breaking, falling, shattering.

He sees the way Blaise swallows hard, closes his eyes and looks up to the ceiling, breathing hard. "I know you do, but this..." He gestures at the tiny glass vials that lay empty by the foot of his bed, before setting his eyes back on him. "Draco..."

"Don't." He begs, because he can feel the anger beginning to simmer, buried underneath the steam of illness and confusion, but Blaise has always been one to speak his mind, ruthlessly so, and so he presses on.

"You're hurting yourself."

You're killing yourself, her voice echoes in his brain. You'll die.

"Leave it alone."

"I can't," Blaise stresses, tightening his grip on Draco's wrist. The words don't surprise Draco, Blaise has always been a fixer, unable to let go once he figures out a problem and has effectively resolved it, but they do anger him. "For Salazar's sake. Liquid Dreams, Draco? Really? Have you've got any idea how harmful the potion can be if ingested on the daily."

He does know, he does, he's seen the effects, has felt them on his body. His limbs shiver, his heart is racing, his skin shuffles between being unbearably hot to freezing cold. He might've ignored the warning tag on every vial, but Draco knows. He just didn't care.

"I just want to see her."

I just want to be with you.

A lifetime by your side wouldn't have been enough.

I'm always with you.

He presses the back of his hand against his eyes, tries to mute the resonating voices in his head.

"No," Blaise responds, "You're trying to keep her alive." Draco's breath comes to a sudden halt, eyes opening and focusing on Blaise, fire burning beneath them. Blaise doesn't shy away, doesn't even flinch. He's always been bluntly honest. Draco has never hated that quality more than he does know. His final words come out soft, "You can't. She's gone."

You're dead.

I am.

He doesn't know if it's the fever or the potion, but his next words come out manic, rushed, erratic.

"She isn't! Not when I drink the vials. Not when I see her every night."

Blaise's gaze softens. There's pain in his eyes.

"You've got to let her go."

Trapping yourself in our memories and living off the past isn't going to bring me back.

"You don't understand, Blaise." Now he's shouting, feelings jumbling within his chest and words tumbling out his mouth. He's confused and scared and hurt and sad and angry, and it comes out in the way of a sharp tone that cuts like a knife, "You couldn't even begin to comprehend what I'm feeling, what my life has been like for the last months."

Blaise remains impassive, but his features harden. Draco catches the brief flare of annoyance in his eyes.

"My sister died in the war, Malfoy." His words come back with the same razor-sharp edge Draco used. "So did my father, in case you forgot."

Draco breathes heavily, guilt pools at the bottom of his stomach.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, and Blaise doesn't say anything back, but Draco knows he's forgiven by the way his friend's shoulders relax. For all his tough exterior, Blaise has never been able to hold onto anger. Draco wishes he could be like that.

They stay quiet for a while, time that feels like an eternity.

It's Blaise who breaks the silence. "I know it hurts, and I know you miss her, but you're keeping her hostage in your dreams and you're holding onto the pain."

Draco exhales shakily.

"That's not going to bring her back."

"I know," he whispers, tears slowly filling his eyes once more. Trapping yourself in our memories and living off the past isn't going to bring me back, he hears being mumbled by his ear. "Fuck, I know."

He looks up at Blaise and by the way his friend briefly looks away Draco knows he must look absolutely shattered.

"How do I let her go, Blaise, when it feels like my soul was ripped in half?"

Blaise swallows hard. There are tears by the corner of his eyes, too, "You let yourself hurt, you let yourself feel."

Live it for me.

I'm always with you.

"I'm sorry I left you alone, Draco. I thought you wanted to... I don't know, process privately. I'm sorry I wasn't here."

Draco shakes his head. "Don't be," he closes his eyes with a sigh, "When I felt myself slipping, I should've said something." But it's difficult to do so, to reach out, when you feel so alone and alienated, and Blaise must know, must understand, because when Draco opens his eyes, Blaise is also shaking his head.

"And I should've noticed before," he responds, and Draco knows he isn't just talking about the grief, but also about Draco's borderline addiction to the potion. "You are my best friend, after all."

They stare at each other for a split second before Blaise sighs and looks away, "We'll talk about it later. Let's just focus on getting your fever down."

Draco has known Blaise long enough to understand what goes unsaid. Don't worry, I'm here now, I've got you, you're going to be okay.

And Draco isn't okay, not even close, but this feels like a step in the right direction. He feels lighter. His heart aches, but it's manageable. For the first time in months, Draco doesn't feel the overwhelming itch to go back to his memories.

x. two years after the accident

For the longest time Draco thought he would die without her, and maybe a part of him does. But as he stands in front of her grave, a bouquet of heliotropes on his hand, he thinks that maybe that's okay. The last year has taught him how to let go of the hurt, let go of the part of him that isn't really him anymore, and instead hold onto her, onto their love.

It never stops hurting, there's always a lingering, dull pain in his heart, but Draco learns how to live with it. He thinks that's okay, too. The pain is a reminder that he loved and was loved. Love hurts because it's everlasting, because it never truly goes away. Grief is the price we pay for loving. That's okay, he reckons, it's a small price.

Draco presses his hand to the headstone, squats down to place the flowers on the floor, closes his eyes and allows himself to feel. Healing isn't linear, he's learned, and it's okay to sometimes feel a sorrow so deep it pierces and reopens the wound in his soul, as long as he can release the sadness and the pain, as long as he swims with it but doesn't allow himself to drown.

Having Blaise and Pansy around helps and Draco is more than unbelievably grateful for his support system. (For Blaise, who helps him through the days of withdrawal, who opens up his house to him, who helps him look for a grief counselor. For Pansy, who teaches him how to paint with oil, and how to pour his feelings into blank pieces of parchment instead of bottling them up.) He learns that he's not alone, never was. He learns how to lean on someone else when he needs help.

It takes time, but he slowly regains parts of him he thought had shatter beyond repair. He cooks pizza for his friends, he drives to work, he listens to slow jazz songs and thunderstorms without the urgent desire to break down. He wears his wedding band around his neck.

He heals. Slowly, but surely.

Draco learns that the memories he shared with her will always be there, for him to think back upon, but they are not meant for him to live within.

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