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#harry potter birthday

ariesnightingale · 9 months

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Happy Birthday, Harry! 🎂🫶🏻

#harry potter #harry potter birthday

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starlitsilvereyes · 9 months

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Love To Hate You | E | 1.9k

Written for @harryjamespotterweek's prompts: Size Kink, Scars, Sex Toys, & Hate Sex | Warnings/Tags: PWP, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Sectumsempra Scars, Sex Toy (Anal plug), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjob, Rimming, Light Bondage, Edging, Choking

Thank you so much to my wonderful beta @intimatelyrearranged for looking over this <3 <3

Summary/Excerpt: Sex with Potter was always rough. All claws and teeth – a hand wrapped around Draco’s neck, fingernails on Draco’s hips, and Potter’s filthy mouth panting against Draco’s ear.

Read Love To Hate You on Ao3

or Expand to keep reading :)

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Sex with Potter was always rough. All claws and teeth – a hand wrapped around Draco’s neck, fingernails on Draco’s hips, and Potter’s filthy mouth panting against Draco’s ear.

“I fucking hate you, Draco.”

Satisfaction bloomed within Draco at the frustrated expression plastered upon Potter’s face, knowing he’d been the very cause of it.

They had been in the Ministry Gala not even an hour before, with Potter’s green eyes piercing through Draco from across the table. Draco made sure they’d been seated right across from each other, so he could slide his socked foot up Potter’s leg.

Potter ignored him at first, but there was no mistaking the tightening of his fingers around his glass. He tried to close his legs a short moment after Draco settled his ankle against Potter’s knee, but Draco thought quicker than him, sliding his foot right on Potter’s wool-clad crotch, trapping it between Potter’s thighs.

“The wine is exquisite, Minister,” Draco praised, licking his lips as Potter let out a soft gasp when Draco pressed his foot more firmly against Potter’s clothed cock.

“I’m pleased to hear it suits your fine taste, Mister Malfoy.” Shacklebolt smiled proudly. “I hope you’ll be as delighted with our dinner. I especially picked out the most luxurious Jamaican dishes, and I plan on developing a trade of goods between my home country and Wizarding Britain this year.”

“I’m sure the dinner will be just as ravishing,” Draco drawled, eyeing Potter before he made a show of closing his eyes in delight when the first dish was served in front of them.

Draco settled his foot on Potter’s inner thigh for the entirety of their meal, brushing his heel against Potter whenever he spoke to someone else at the table. Potter tolerated it, until Draco dragged his foot along the length of Potter’s entire cock, now fully hard.

Potter visibly jumped, earning him looks from almost everyone around the expansive dining table.

“Alright, Harry?” asked Weasley, glancing suspiciously at Draco before turning his gaze back at Potter.

“Yeah,” Potter said, breathless. “I just need some air. If you’ll excuse me.”

Potter left the table without another word, and Draco followed halfway through his meal, as to not be too suspicious.

He found Potter outside, hidden behind the grand oak tree Draco was certain was older than the both of them combined, a cigarette between his lips as he leaned against the brick wall.

“Took you long enough,” Potter spat, flicking off his fag and crushing it beneath his boot.

Before Draco could come up with a snarky remark, Potter crossed the space between them, latching is hot, wet mouth against Draco. Out of habit, Draco slot his knee between Potter’s legs.

But Potter seemed to have a different idea, backing Draco to the wall and snogging him senseless until Draco had to pull away to catch his breath.

“Potter–”

Without another word, Potter flicked his hand, and a silk magically appeared around Draco’s wrists, tying them together and pinning them in place above his head.

Oh.

“If you’re going to act like a cock-hungry whore, you’re going to get treated like one.”

Draco barely had any time to grasp what was happening when Potter knelt before him, hurriedly unbuckled his belt, and pulled his trousers down along with his pants. He inhaled a sharp breath when the cool autumn air hit his cock.

Potter made a show of mouthing at Draco’s tip, lapping around it like some – well, some cock-hungry whore, but Draco was too occupied with the velvety warmth of Potter’s mouth to make his point.

“So big,” Potter moaned. “So fucking perfect for me. You like this, hm?” He took Draco even deeper, only pulling off to spit on his palm and wrap a first around the base of Draco’s cock. “You like my throat around your dick? Tell me you like it, Draco.”

“I love your mouth,” Draco gasped when Potter started fucking Draco’s cock into his mouth hungrily, desperately. “I love it when you suck me off like you’re made for it, Harry.”

They only called each other by their names whenever they fucked. It was not something they particularly agreed on, but neither of them had complained in the past six months, and Draco hadn’t exactly thought of calling Potter by his first name outside of their rendezvous.

Potter’s eyes, lightning green and striking, stared through Draco as he opened his throat a bit more, taking Draco deeper than he’d ever taken him. Draco shut his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowing as Harry’s name fell from his lips. “Harry, god, don’t stop. Fuck – fuck --” Pleasure rose from the depths of him, his knees growing weak, mouth going slack, and fingernails digging through his own palms.

On the brink of Draco’s orgasm, Harry pulled off, and the pleasure stopped.

Draco opened his eyes to find Potter wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, tucking Draco back into his pants and smirking devilishly as he rose from the ground.

“Don’t like the taste of your own medicine?” Potter smirked.

“Fuck you, Potter.”

“With pleasure.”

The Apparition to Potter’s flat made Draco dizzy, as though he just downed an entire bottle of whiskey. Upon trying to balance himself, he realised Potter didn’t even bother to untie his wrists. Draco shut his eyes and braced himself to fall face flat on Potter’s hardwood floor, but Potter wrapped a steady arm around his waist, unabashedly pressing his fucking crotch against Draco’s arse.

“Bend over.” Potter’s breath was hot against Draco’s ear.

“What?” Draco asked, bewildered. “Right here?”

Without another word, Potter vanished both of their clothes with a flick of his wand. Draco shivered, gooseflesh rising on his skin as Potter’s magic wrapped around him like an intoxicating curse.

Potter placed a firm palm on the back of Draco’s neck, guiding him to the red velvet couch and bending him over.

“Draco –”

Draco smirked, cheek against the cushion as he looked back at Potter smugly. He arched his back even more, relishing the surprise on Potter’s face as he eyed the plug nestled into Draco’s hole.

“Draco,” Potter sighed. He reached for the base of the plug, pressing a firm finger against it and pushing it back. Draco closed his eyes, breath hitching as pleasure jolted within him. He knew there was no other way to end this night than to fuck Harry – or rather, be fucked by Harry, so Draco got himself ready earlier that evening by fucking himself with his fingers at the thought of Harry. Both for the intent of preparation and because he knew Harry would like it.

“Fuck me, Harry,” Draco panted.

Harry was already hard, pre-come glazing the tip of his pink cock. He pumped himself a few times, gaze never leaving the sight of the plug in Draco’s arse. Draco’s mouth watered at the sight. He wanted Harry to fuck him now, the desperation nearly all-consuming.

But Harry had different plans. He pinched the base of the plug between two fingers, pulling at it before letting go with only the tip in, and letting Draco’s body pull it back.

“Oh.” The protest was at the tip of Draco’s mouth, but pleasure and want only kept building up within him. So, he resorted submitting rather than complaining. “Oh, Harry.”

“Yeah?” Harry hummed, fucking the plug slowly into Draco. “You like that?”

Draco closed his eyes, mouth going slack as he tilted his hips higher. He could come like this – untouched, only by the mercy of his plug and Harry’s fingers. “Hmmpphhh – Harry, fuck, fuck, fuck —” He was close again, cock sensitive from rubbing against the velvet couch. He thrashed under Harry, whimpers falling from his lips like a whispered prayer, a promise, a curse – begging for Harry to let him come.

Without warning, Harry pulled the plug from Draco’s arse. Draco gasped. He could feel himself gaping and dripping from the lube, his hole desperate to be fucked.

Harry shifted above him, dipping the cushion with his weight. Draco braced himself to be filled by Harry’s cock, but something wet, hotter, and softer pressed against his hole.

The moan that spilled from Draco’s mouth would’ve embarrassed him if it weren’t for the scorching pleasure soaring through him like lightning blazing through a sky. Harry’s mouth kissed Draco’s hole, tongue prodding at it like Draco was something to devour.

Draco had never come from rimming before. No doubt, it was pleasurable to him, and it aroused him to the point of neediness, but he never found it to push him over the edge. It was a pleasure that crossed the line but not quite enough to finish him off.

Until the moment Harry inserted a single finger alongside his tongue, pumping slowly until he was knuckle deep. Draco wanted to cry from it. He was certain he’d do anything just to come – he’d live and die and go to the ends of the earth if it meant Harry made him come by his tongue and finger. There wasn’t anything Draco wanted more.

But like all the pleasure brought by Harry tonight, he pulled away, leaving Draco panting, desperate, wanting, on the verge of madness from it all.

Draco was limp and boneless, sedated by being brought to the edge, as he let Harry turn him over to his back.

“Fuck you, Potter,” he said weakly.

“I fucking hate you, Draco,” Harry said. Both of them knew it didn’t matter if they hated each other or not – not when Harry was finally pushing inside Draco with a punched out gasp.

The tension coiled within Draco like a whirlwind brewing through a thunderstorm. A tear rolled down his cheekbone when Harry’s cock slid inside of him, overwhelming relief rushing through him. Harry started moving, slowly and earnestly at first, like Draco was delicate and untouched. Like he was someone in need of softness.

Sex with Potter was always rough. All claws and teeth – a hand wrapped around Draco’s neck, fingernails on Draco’s hips, and Potter’s filthy mouth panting against Draco’s ear.

But sex with Harry – his Harry, was always gentle. Soft lips mouthing at the intricacy of Draco’s silver scars; calloused palms caressing the expanse of Draco’s body; lightning green eyes rolling back from pleasure.

Draco didn’t know who he wanted more. But he’d always been a selfish man, unashamedly so. He decided he wanted to have them both.

With what was left of his strength, he hiked both of his legs up and settled them atop Harry’s broad shoulders. Harry opened his eyes, mouth slightly agape in surprise as Draco gazed up at him in challenge.

“Fuck me like you hate me, Potter,” he said through clenched teeth.

Harry let out a breath, eyes darkening as he held Draco’s calves on his shoulders, hips pistolling into Draco like he was being paid for it. He fucked and fucked until Draco was reduced into aching hunger, his mouth only ever knowing how to moan Harry’s name.

Above Draco, Harry was a powerful storm blazing through his violent desire. He was anger and rage and fire bursting into flames – a feverish desperation clinging to Draco’s bones. Draco wanted only to have him – all of him – both Potter and Harry. He thought he could die from it and live for it. He would kill for it.

He opened his eyes just in time to marvel at Harry in all his orgasmic glory – mouth hung open and eyebrows furrowed as he pumped his hips harder and faster. Like he was desperate for this as much as Draco was. Like there was nothing he craved more than being inside Draco.

It hit Draco when Harry opened his eyes in post-orgasmic haze, starlit emerald eyes telling more than words ever could.

I hate you; I hate you; I love you.

Draco came as he looked into Harry’s eyes, with Harry’s name falling from his lips like sinful and heavenly poetry all at once.

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pansysimp · 9 months

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birthdays, and how harry potter learns to love them.

a tiny fic for the birthday boy. slight warning for mentions of child neglect.

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10 year old Harry hated birthdays. He got nothing, said nothing, and went on being ignored. Just like every other day of the year.

15 year old Harry hated birthdays. He got some letters from Ron, Hermione, Remus, and few others. However, he never had a birthday party, and definitely never got anything from his aunt and uncle.

18 year old Harry hated birthdays. The war had just ended, and he surely didn’t feel like celebrating. Sure, he got presents, and sure, he got more love than any birthday so far, but half of Hogwarts was dead. He felt the grief, and so did everyone else. How could he celebrate that?

20 year old Harry tolerated birthdays. He was an Auror trainee and had better things to do with his time. Like, for example, stare at Draco Malfoy’s ass while definitely paying attention in Criminal Restraint Methods 101.

22 year old Harry sort of liked birthdays. The war was just past 4 years ago, he had plans for a 3rd date with Draco Malfoy, he was an official Auror, and Ron and Hermione’s little Rosie was quite cute. He supposed birthdays weren’t the worst thing in the world.

25 year old Harry loves birthdays. He’s newly married to Draco Malfoy, talking about adopting a child, free his job as an Auror (finally!), and babysitting little Hugo on weekdays. He had pub nights with both Gryffindors and Slytherins. He played Quidditch with Teddy at least once a month. He truly relaxed for the first time in his life. This birthday, he sat on some island that Blaise owned and drank margaritas with his husband and Ron and Hermione and his friends. Harry didn’t know (and never would) but one quarter century ago, little baby Potter was discovering his own love for birthdays. His mother and father and Remus and Sirius were all there, so Harry was happy. And so, just like baby Harry, adult Harry sat with the people that he loved. And that was enough.

Harry Potter loved birthdays.

#draco x harry #drarry #drarry fanfic #harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter birthday #hp fanfic

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nioumin-draw · 9 months

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Lorelei Sanders meet Harry Potter

i just started to play HP magic awakened AND I found a little quest with Harry Potter for the 31 July ( Harry Potter birthday 🎂)

What a great moment 🥺🥺 Harry chara design if awesome 💕💕💕 happy birthday to you The boy who lived and great hero

#harry potter #harry potter oc #harry potter magic awakened #hogwarts #harry potter magic awakened oc #hpma mc #harry james potter #harry potter birthday #magic awakened #Oc #Hpma mc #lorelei sanders

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dansamouravecwolfstar · 9 months

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July 31st

today is Harry Potter’s birthday!!! so happy birthday to the Boy Who Lived, thanks so much for being there throughout so many of our childhoods.

🎊🎊🎊

#happy birthday #harry potter #hp fandom #love #happy #memories #celebration #harry potter birthday

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gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley · 9 months

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happy birthday to the prettiest of boys who ever lived❤

#harry potter #harry potter birthday #happy birthday to the boy who lived #pretty boy who's deathly underrated in his own series

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nelweensfic · 2 years

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Anonymous letters

Every year since his first birthday after Hogwarts, Harry had received flower bouquets with an anonymous message. Usually wishing him a good day. It was never the same owl but Harry could tell it was the same person, he has kept all the letters for several years.

The last time Harry got one was when he started dating Draco Malfoy. He never thought much about it, thinking the person had given up because Harry was gay or because he was in a relationship.

Until now, 31st July, 2022. It was his 42nd birthday and for the first time in ages, Harry was alone. Draco was on an important medical mission abroad, they've been married for 20 years and Harry was proud of how well Draco had done for himself.

So when he was at the Burrow, enjoying this Sunday with his family and friends, he was surprised to see a tiny owl flying toward him, carrying a too big letter for the little animal. He recognised the cursive writing when he looked at his own name in green ink but wondered how he had forgotten it in the first place. Or more importantly, he had never realised it before.

"Dear Potter,

I wish you the happiest birthday. Sorry no flowers this year, the owl is too tiny.

With love,

D."

Harry snorted as he put the letter on his knee, swiping the single tear from his cheek before seeing his husband, standing right in front of him with an enormous bouquet in his hand.

Thank you @curlyy-hair-dont-care for beta reading it 😘

#drarry #drarry microfic #nelweensfic #harry potter birthday #happy birthday

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juliehowlin · 9 months

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Harry Potter

The Potter family is descended from the 12th-century wizard Linfred of Stinchcombe, "a locally well-beloved and eccentric man, whose nickname, 'the Potterer', became corrupted in time to 'Potter'".

10 things you might not know about Harry Potter:

#facts #fun facts #trivia #harry potter #harry potter birthday #birthday

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bibislut · 9 months

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Handmade, With Love.

Summary: Harry likes handmade gifts. Draco likes Harry. With Potter's birthday fast approaching, Draco needs to work quickly to finish his present, and maybe win his heart?

Words: 1874

Warnings: Swearing, making out.

Read on Ao3

Potter liked homemade gifts. At first, Draco had thought that the Gryffindor was just humouring his godson’s sweet-yet-awfully-made presents he would present him with every so often. But then Granger gleefully pointed out Potter’s scarf one night at the Leaky Cauldron, an apparent result of Mrs Weasley’s attempts at teaching her daughter-in-law how to knit. And then, one evening, as they all crowded in Potter’s living room, drinks in hand, he noticed one of Luna’s mugs amongst the glasses, the hand-moulded clay the only remaining clean drinking receptacle.

So when the darker man had dropped into Draco’s haberdashery and couturier one day in early July to ask if he’d repair a tear in his favourite shirt in time for his birthday party - “none of that mates rates bollocks Malfoy, I’m happy to pay” - the blond was struck with an idea. One he hoped would perhaps truly convey his feelings to his friend.

The shirt in question was rather plain, somewhere between merlot red and sangria purple. But Draco could see why it was Potter’s favourite; it hugged his muscles deliciously, the sleeves rolled up perfectly to show the veins on his scarred Auror arms, his rough fingers working the buttons on the cuff easily.

“You can’t possibly be thinking of wearing that suit again, Potter.” Draco drawled, as he took the darker man’s measurements.

“You can’t possibly think I care enough to actually go out of my way to buy a new one, Malfoy.” Harry copied his tone, patiently holding his arms up as the blond ran the tape measure along his back. The suit in question was the most plain black ensemble Draco had ever laid eyes on. And Potter had had the audacity to wear it to two Ministry galas. Thankfully, Draco had only been Pansy’s plus-one at one of the two, the sordid details of the second being recounted the following evening over a glass of wine that looked remarkably like Potter’s shirt.

“What are you doing right now?” Draco’s hands only lingered a fraction longer than they should have on Harry’s warm body. What a tremendous display of self-control, he thought.

“I- I thought you needed my measurements. For my shirt.”

Draco rolled his eyes as he knelt in front of him, trying not to let his heart race at the positioning. “Just admit you like my face by your crotch, Potter. It’ll save us both time.” He ran the tape down his leg, trying to keep as respectable a distance as he could with his hand mere inches from Potter’s cock. Draco winked at him, and Harry held his gaze as he swallowed hard. Draco watched his Adam's apple bob up and down and was filled with the urge to lick his neck. He stood again. “I don’t need your measurements for a patch job.” He ignored the way Potter licked his lips.

“So what-?”

“I’m making you a new suit,” Draco cut him off. “No need to thank me. It can be a birthday present.”

Potter frowned, pulling his hoodie over his head. “A present? Aren’t these things usually really expensive?”

Draco watched him shake out his curls as he wound up his tape measure. “Don’t worry about it.” And then, when Harry’s frown deepened; “You can always point people in my direction when they no doubt compliment your new attire.”

“Ah, so this is a Slytherin plot!”

“Keep thinking that if it helps you, Potter. Heaven forbid I do something good-natured.” Draco rolled his eyes, but kept a small smile on his face. He knew Harry was only joking.

“I had heard it was illegal for a Malfoy to be selfless.”

Draco snorted. “Maybe I’ve got Wrackspurts in my ears.”

“Hmm. You’d better get that checked out.”

They shared a smile before Draco waved him away. “Get out of my shop, Potter. I can’t have people thinking I let hooligans in.”

—

Draco Lucius Malfoy came from a long line of purebloods. Muggle-hating purebloods. He wondered what his ancestors would think now, as he slowly unfurled his fist from around his wand, taking a deep breath and trying to remember why it wasn’t a good idea to send up his new sewing machine in the hot flames of an incendio.

Why had he decided to make Potter’s new suit the muggle way? Because Harry likes hand-made gifts and you like Harry, a voice chimed in, very unhelpfully, for the tenth time that day.

It was two weeks until Potter’s birthday, and Draco sat surrounded by various mannequins in different versions of the Auror’s new suit, all in a state that Draco would describe as only being loved the way a parent would love their 8-year old’s first attempt at something. It wasn’t looking as promising as he’d hoped.

But he’d told Harry he’d make him a new suit, and he’d told himself that he would do it by hand, and that was that. He wouldn’t settle for less than perfection. If that meant a few late nights, and a few more wide-eye potions, then that was fine. If he was going to do this, he would do it right.

—

Draco ignored the urge to fiddle with the bow on Potter’s present as he waited for him to answer the door. The warm summer evening was just settling in, and Draco had insisted on arriving early to Harry’s birthday party to give him his shirt himself.

Finally, Potter opened the door. His tshirt was damp, and he smelt strongly of mint and chamomile, evidently fresh out the shower. Draco swallowed the moan that threatened to escape.

“Come in, come in.” Harry held the door open for him. They made their way down the hall into the living room. “I just need to finish setting up. Did you bring the shirt? Of course you did. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. You’re never forgetful like I am - oh! A present!” Harry had yanked the parcel from Draco before he could stop him.

The blond opened his mouth to protest, but the paper was already falling to the floor. Harry held the suit up before him with a sharp inhale.

The shirt was white and crisp, the burgundy waistcoat matching the blazer. The material was rich, embroidered with varying shades of red flowers, with faint gold thread throughout. The jacket was long, lined with dark gold buttons, held fastened with a gold chain, the cravat made from the same material, accented with a black and gold clasp. It looked almost regal.

“And you made it by hand?” Harry’s voice was quiet, he looked stunned.

Draco drew his eyebrows together. “How did you- does- does it look bad?” He had been so proud of his work, but now… Was it so clear that he had never done this before? His heart only raced louder as Harry said nothing. And then:

“What? No. No!” He seemed to come back down to earth. “I’m just so used to detecting magic at work that it’s quite jarring when it's not there all of a sudden.” He finally drew his eyes away from the suit, placing it over the back of a chair. “It looks incredible, Draco. Really. I can’t believe you did this for me.” Harry grasped Draco’s hands in his.

Draco couldn’t hide his blush at Harry’s words, the use of his first name, and more importantly, the tight, warm grip Harry had on his hands. He swallowed thickly. “Well, I couldn’t have you turning up to another gala in that ratty old suit, could I?” He tried to sound light-hearted, but the way Harry’s eyes bore into his had his voice faltering.

“You made me an entire suit. Without magic.” Potter’s voice was quiet but steady. His grip tightened every so slightly.

The blond felt like a deer in the headlights, unable to move as Harry inched closer.

“Because I like hand-made gifts.” Harry continued. Draco couldn’t remember how to breathe. If he blinked Harry would be there, inches away from him, close enough that he could touch his face. “And you like me.”

Draco stopped breathing altogether, his eyes focused on the way Harry’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You’re a lot quicker than you were back in school.” Draco whispered.

“You like me,” Harry murmured.

“I like you.” The admission wasn’t even a whisper, but Harry heard him.

Harry leant in to press his lips to Draco’s ear, his breath tickling his neck. “I like you too.”

“Fuck.” The word escaped on a breath before Draco could stop it, and Harry chuckled quietly, pulling back to look at him.

“I think you’re jumping the gun a bit, Draco. You haven’t even asked me out yet.” Harry’s smile was cocky, his eyes bright, but Draco knew the bravado was only a front.

No, this time, it would be Draco’s bravery that took the spotlight. The blond reached out and rubbed Harry’s earlobe, listening to his breath hitch in his chest as Draco crowded his space. “You’ve fucked yourself over, Potter,” he whispered, “Your admission is practically an invitation.” Draco was leaning so close that his lips ghosted over Harry’s as he spoke.

The darker man closed his eyes, gripping Draco’s arm in anticipation. It sent a thrill through the blond, seeing so clearly that Harry’s words were true; he liked Draco too, and he wanted to kiss him.

Harry’s reaction was the reward for Draco’s bravery, but the prize lay before him.

Draco slowly pressed his lips against Harry’s, and the darker man groaned into his mouth, pushing the kiss further until it became desperate and heated. Harry took control, pushing Draco back against the wall and pulling his blond hair until he opened his mouth to let Harry explore it.

Everything each of them had been holding back was rushing to the surface, and Draco reached underneath Harry’s tshirt to drag his nails over Harry’s skin, making them both groan into the kiss. Harry pulled away with a growl, pulling his shirt over his head quickly before diving back into Draco’s mouth, trapping the blond between the wall and his body. Draco let his hands roam over Harry’s back and arms, his shoulders and chest. This was everything he had dreamed about, but better.

And then the doorbell rang. Because it’s Harry’s birthday. Because they’re expecting to see their friends any moment.

“Fuck.” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead against Draco’s as they caught their breath.

Draco smirked. “I thought we agreed to go on a date first.”

Harry pressed his hungry lips against Draco’s again. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, kissing down Draco’s jaw.

The whole evening had gone even better than Draco could have hoped for. Not only did Harry like him back, but fuck, did it feel good to touch him, kiss him.

The doorbell rang again, impatient. Harry pulled away but Draco kissed him again, more sweetly this time.

Harry grinned, squeezing Draco’s hand before picking his tshirt up and pulling it back on.

He spent the rest of the evening showing all of their friends the new suit that Draco had made him, pointing out all of the detail and work that went into it.

And Draco, for one, couldn’t have been happier.

----

Suit inspo from Aristocracy London <3

#drarry #drarry fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #harry x draco #harry potter birthday #couturier! Draco Malfoy

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panda-malfoy-93 · 9 months

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Sitting in a cafe with the perfect aesthetics and having a cup of coffee that reminds me of Christmas which I don't celebrate but still the whole season just feels so fluff!! And yeah I've been definitely inspired or something so hopefully I'll be able to write something special for HJP birthday

Also thinking of baking the Hagrid cake on his b'day so should I?? Kinda confused 😭😭

#harry Potter #harry Potter birthday #cafe #aesthetics #inspo #drarry #birthday

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ariesnightingale · 2 years

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR GOLDEN BOY, HARRY POTTER!! 🥧🥳

This art was inspired by ToAStranger's "draw me after you (let us run)" on AO3

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327684/chapters/53334382

#harry potter #fanart #anime #harry potter birthday #tom riddle jr #voldemort #tomarry #traditional art #harry potter fanart

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haylanmakesstuff · 7 months

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Real Life Howler

This one is less effective without video, but my best friend makes the most amazing birthday cards for me every year. I always look forward to seeing her creativity and talent.

One year, I decided to try to return the favor best I could, so I made her a real life Howler from Harry Potter. It even screamed Mrs. Weasley’s voice when you opened it.