- Mother - 

my daisy

draco x reader

summary: draco falls in love with his pen pal and when she transfers to hogwarts he becomes even more infatuated than ever

warnings: smut towards the end (innocent kink, skirt kink, thigh riding, praise, spanking)

a/n: well some of you *cough cough* (@futuremrsfelton20 @ch0kemedracomalfoy @yellowsuitcase @fa-me) have been waiting for this and i really hope it’s to your liking. y’all’s comments and messages had me laughing so hard you don’t even know. if y’all want a less fluffy version i would happily oblige.

you had been lingering in dracos mind for quite some time now. over the past few months, you and draco had been writing letters to each other for your writing class. it was only supposed to last a month but both of you quickly became accustomed to writing to each other, always looking towards the window waiting for the next letter to arrive.

he had instantly become intrigued by you and everything you had to say. at the beginning, the letters were short and to the point, only really doing them to receive a grade. but later on, you started sending little things in the letters. pictures, flowers, small gifts.

three weeks into the letters, you decided to send a picture of yourself to him. he kept complaining about not being able to put the name to a face even though it was just his curiosity getting the best of him.

dear draco,

you have been pestering me about this for far too long and i’ve finally decided to give in. i promised you i wasn’t some old hag with warts all over my face and i hope i’m to your liking.

p.s. please don’t take that last part too seriously. merlin knows you don’t need another ego boost :)

fondly,

y/n

draco had starred at your picture much longer than he had liked to admit. you stand there in a small green plaid skirt, knitted matching green cardigan, with a white crop top underneath, and your hair pulled back with a slim headband. the picture shows you standing there with a radiant smile he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

after immediately writing you back and giving you an array of compliments, he sends you back a picture as well. along with an enchanted white daisy.

my dearest daisy,

i wish i could tell you you looked like an ogre and throw a handful of insults at you but i would be lying to myself. thankfully, we aren’t talking in person so you didn’t have to see my starring at you in disbelief. to say the least, you are a sight for sore eyes. i would be lucky to ever be able to see you in person. i hope you like the flower. my mother sent it to me from her garden and it reminded me of you.

fondly,

draco

the thing you didn’t know, and what draco had decided was best to leave out, was that the flower was in fact from his mother’s enchanted garden but she sent it specifically for you. draco had told her about you and his mothers sent him the flower with a message saying- so you can woo the girl.

you held his picture in one hand and the flower in another. although you would like to say otherwise, the boy is beyond handsome. and charming as well even though you’d never admit that in your letters.

this goes on for months. you continue to write back and forth until your mother came to you with news saying you would be switching school for the second semester.

saying something along the lines of, “this school holds a hand full of fine young witches like yourself. this is for the best.”

you immediately thought of draco. he wouldn’t know where to write you and you would never hear from you again. quickly, you pull out your pen and paper to message him.

as soon as draco read your message he was filled with joy. he had a pit of anxiety bubbling up in his stomach and his head couldn’t help but run through ideas. what if she doesn’t like me? what if she’s disappointed and realizes she never knew the person she was messaging all along?

his mind was filled with these kind of thoughts for days. he had written you back saying that he attended that school but never recieved an answer. he assumed you were too busy packing or were already on your way.

it wasn’t until a week later while sitting in the dinning hall that he saw you. you walked in in your new uniform and was in awe. with the outfit similar to your picture, you had on a small plaid skirt and knee high socks and draco couldn’t help but have his mind filled with dirty images of you.

watching you walk to your table, you plop down next to a group of students and give them a warm smile. they immediately bombard you with questions and you answer them politely and make conversation. draco watched you across the room in facination. of course she’s all polite and sweet and looks like that.

deciding against talking to you, he scuries off to his room. scolding himself for being some shy boy when that is the total opposite of who he is. interrupting his thoughts, blaise and crabbe walk in talking amongst themselves.

“she’s a total babe, man. i hope she’s at that party tonight,” blaise says peaking dracos interests. if you were at this party then that would give draco an opportunity to talk to you without seeming like some love struck stalker.

after combing his hair back and trying to make himself look as presentable as possible, he makes his way to the party. trying not to immediately look for you, he decided to take a drink or two to help him calm down.

that drink or two turned into three or four and as he sits on the couch he realizes how much he accidentally drank. as the tipsy buzz washes over him he feels someone wrap a hand around his shoulder. “you look much more relaxed,” he hears someone whisper in his ear. looking up, he’s met with y/e/c eyes as you look down on him with a small smile on your face.

“daisy,” he whispers more to himself. plopping down onto the couch, you sit directly next to him enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. “it’s good to finally see you dray.”

“it’s good to see you too. i cant believe you’re actually here,” he replies. after that your conversation flows smoothly. your banter was like no other and throughout the night you seemed to scooch closer to him as the hours pass. eventually ending up in his lap, you continue the conversation uneffected.

with his hands holding your thighs, he can’t help but look at your body infatuated. not only were you as sweet as you looked but you probably tasted just as sweet, he thought to himself. you babbled on about your classes and new friends you’ve made while totally blind to the fact of dracos hardness. his whole body was embarrassingly needy for you. and as the nights moves on and you both have more and more drinks, he tries his best to prepare himself to actually make a move on you.

ultimately, you ended up closer to him on his lap, almost directly onto his growing buldge. caressing your thigh all nights, you’ve grown impatient. leaning down to his ear and pressing your chest suggestively on his, “when are you going to take the hint and fuck me,” you ask looking down at him with an innocent look on your face.

“you little vixen... and to think i thought you were all sweet and pure.” you smile down at him as his hands cup your ass pulling you down onto him more. he imitates your previous actions, pressing his lips to your ear, “why don’t we go back to my room, daisy?”

nodding your head, he hoists you up and carries you all the way back to his room. while he holds you, you press your center directly on top of his and grind yourself against him, thanking that because of the late hour no one was out of their rooms. kissing up and down his neck, occasionally biting or sucking his ear, you were too caught up with yourself to notice you now stood in the common room.

he sits on the sofa while you continue to grind in his lap. he groans softly, “you have no idea how much i’ve thought about doing this to you.” you did have an idea. because you had been thinking the exact same thing for over a month.

placing you on one of his thighs, he slides his hands up your skirt. “ride my thigh baby,” he says in your ear. he didn’t have to tell you twice before you started moving your hips on his thigh as he starts to bounce it. trying to get more and more pressure on your clit, you can’t help but let out a breathy moan and totally forgetting that you are basically in a public place.

while bouncing his thigh, he sporadically sends slaps to your ass in encouragement. “look at my innocent daisy getting herself off at the thought of me,” he says teasingly. his words sending you over the edge, you come all over his thigh, moaning in his ear. with your head now laying in the crook of his neck, “y/n i can say confidently that that is the hottest thing i have ever seen.”

“do you think you can take more?” he asks while kissing the side of your forehead. nodding, he hoists you up once more and leans you over a table. flipping your skirt up, he takes in the sight of you and licks his lips. “merlin y/n you’re wet.”

greedily pushing your ass against his cock, you moan impatiently. “draco i need you,” you admit sheepishly. “you need me to what, darling? use your words,” he says trying to egg you on. “i need you to fuck me,” you reply breathlessly.

that was all he needed to hear before plunging into you. he had had this fantasy play in his mind too many times to count and now here you are, bent over a desk displaying your ass to him with that tiny skirt of yours.

taking ahold of your hair, he pounds into you again and again. slapping your ass, he watches your cheeks turn tomato red with his handprint forming. both of your moans had grown uncontrollable as you scream each other’s names.

he pulls you up by your hair and smashes his lips on yours. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to do that,” he admits, leaning his forehead on yours.

taking your hand, he leads you back to his room and begins to undress you. this time, his actions were soft and domestic rather than sexual. leaving you in your bra and panties, he shoves one of his tshirts over your head and holds you by your waist, dragging you to his bed.

he holds you in his arms while your breathing synchronizes. huffing, “y/n i don’t want you to think that i only want you for your body or- or that sex is all that this is. i want more. you’ve meant more than that for months, daisy.”

you look up at him and meet his grey eyes in the darkness. scooting up closer to him and laying your head in his neck you whisper, “i want that too.”

hi! could you do a draco x reader imagine where it’s enemies to lovers and one night at a party draco gets drunk and confesses his feelings?

drunk // draco malfoy

masterlist!

a/n: i literally had an idea exactly like this n my drafts omg but it was smut :0 wut r the odds. n e way, hope u like it, thanks for the request anon!!

summary: You and Draco are enemies until one drunken night leads to a confession of secret feelings.

(4.4k)

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It was no secret that the Slytherin house was plagued by Draco Malfoy. The house was split; people who went along with Malfoy’s bullying and those who hated the boy. You were proud to say you definitely did not get along with Draco.

Over the many years of mutual torment between the two of you, you had both improved on your ways you made the other’s life a living hell.

This week, you had decided to casually mention to Ron that in his sleep, Draco sucked his thumb. You had no idea if this was true, of course, but you knew Ron would tell everyone he knew. 

In retort, Draco had been stealing any of your school work you left out in the common room. He would return it a few days later with all your work erased. 

This was typical. It would have been unusual if you didn’t have the added stress Draco gave you.

The worst part was the classes you shared. You shared a fair amount of them, being in the same house and finding a lot of your courses to be the same. The both of you were fairly smart, proving to be good competition. 

Charms was your least favorite. You had an awful memory, and when you had to remember the physical movements with the vocal spell, you struggled miserably. Draco did fine in Charms, which made it even worse.

Today was particularly difficult, having to memorize at least ten spells, each with different movements and verbal aspects. You sulked out of the room, loosening your green tie in frustration.

“Finding Charms a little hard today?” Draco mocked, raising his voice so it mimicked that of a baby’s.

“Not as hard as that Transfiguration test was for you last week. How much like a tea pot did your poor little mouse look like? I seem to recall it still had its tail,” you retorted, feeling better already about Charms as you looked at Draco’s sour expression.

“So what? What good will a mouse teapot do me? At least I can cast a gouging charm without nearly killing half the class,” Draco shot back, taking an intimidating step closer to you.

The two of you stood off in the middle of the hallway. This often happened after Charms, for it was the last class of the day and neither of you had anything better to do than shout at each other.

You rolled your eyes at the boy and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t even come close to killing anyone, Draco. Your such a drama queen,” you teased him, enjoying the flush on his cheeks. 

“Oh shut up,” he managed to still sound fierce, even with the pink hint on his face.

“Gonna cry about it?” you teased further, hoping to rile him up more.

He squinted his eyes at you and gave you one last critical look. He lifted his lip in a sneer and stalked off, Goyle and Crabbe following after him.

That was how you and Draco interacted. You would tease him, press his buttons, and he would get incredibly angry. It either ended with his storming off, or him saying something hurtful enough that actually made you sink to his level. He didn’t do it very frequently, because usually it resulted in him having a bruised eye for a few weeks.

You were happy to stand up to Draco, because not many other people did it. He was often too favored by Snape to ever get too badly hurt by Harry, and everyone else was too scared of him. Snape didn’t often interfere with the interactions between you and Draco, and you assumed he simply did not care.

You left Charms for the day feeling significantly more confident than when you had entered. You failed miserably at the assignments, and that upset you, but your little victory over Draco made up for it. You walked with Pansy to the Black Lake, books clutched tight to your chest as shields against the cold air nipping your skin. Your scarf clung to your neck and did its best to defend your vulnerable lips.

“You really can’t go?” you asked again, adding a slight whine to your voice.

“I can’t,” Pansy replied regretfully, “I’ve got loads of work to do, and my mum’s been on me about it recently.”

Pansy had fallen behind in more than a few of her courses. You supposed you could blame yourself a little, but didn’t like to think that hard about it. You and Pansy had been fast and loose recently, attending almost any and every party you could find, and spending a little more money than usual on certain substances. You justified it, though, thinking you’d be spending just as much at Hogsmeade every weekend.

“It won’t be any fun without you, though,” you said, still hoping she would change her mind.

“You’ll have Daphne,” Pansy said teasingly, “give her enough firewhisky and she’s a hoot.”

You giggled with Pansy, thinking back to the last time Daphne got drunk at a party. She had climbed on almost every elevated surface to dance, and when she ran out of tables to stand on, she had tried walking on the heads of the nearest first years.  

“Can I help you on some of your work? Get it out of the way?” you offered, practically desperate at this point.

“Would you? That might actually work,” Pansy exclaimed, rushing to the nearest tree to sit against with her school things.

You trailed after her, sitting next to her and pulling out some of your quills. You looked dutifully at Pansy’s Ancient Runes work, starting to write in your best attempt at your best friend’s handwriting. 

You knew there was an ulterior motive in wanting Pansy at the party, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. She was usually the only person who could effectively stop you from drunkenly interacting with Draco. She was the only one who could keep you two separate. As much as you hated Draco, something in your drunk subconscious always made you drawn to him. You needed her at that party.

Pansy stole a glance from her Potions work, looking at you. She smiled thankfully, tucking her short hair behind her ear and returning to her work.

The two of your worked silently for as long as you could, but the sun was against you. It crept away, hiding behind trees and clouds. The two of you began to collect Pansy’s scattered books in the dusk, some faint and lingering sunlight peaking through trees branches lighting the ground. You pulled your robes closer to you, feeling the air get colder as the sun was no longer there to warm you. You and Pansy struggled back to the castle, avoiding stray tree roots carefully. 

The both of you heard leaves crunching from a few feet away. You ignored it, figuring it was just some other students making their way up to the castle for dinner, too. The light was fading more and more, and you and Pansy were just about to clamber out of the heavily forested area when something hard knocked into your shoulder from behind. Draco had come from the left of you, walking past you and throwing his shoulder into yours. You stumbled forwards, but Pansy’s vigilant hand was quick to steady you before you could fall forwards.

“Merlin!” you said out of surprise, before you realized who it was.

His hair looked white in the moonlight that now illuminated the field. The bottom half of his face was shadowed by a tree, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was smirking. You rolled your eyes, feeling your feet firmly planted on the ground again, and began walking past Draco with Pansy’s arm looped in yours.

“Scare ya?” Draco snarled, taking a few long strides to walk in pace with you and Pansy.

“The only thing about you that scares me, Draco, is your nasty breath,” you said, pretending to sound sweet.

Draco scoffed, and you made a disgusted face, pretending to smell his breath from the few feet you were away from him.

“Honestly Draco,” Pansy said from beside you, struggling to hide her smile but going along with your joke and lifting her hand to cover her nose, “you’d think some of your daddy’s money would go towards toothpaste.”

You laughed earnestly, looking to Draco so you wouldn’t miss the offended face you knew he always made. He wasn’t doing it though, his brows weren’t furrowed and his lips weren’t curled. He looked off. His eyes narrowed but his lips were spread into some sort of crooked grin.

You narrowed your eyes back at him in suspicion, which he noticed. He quickly snapped out of whatever he was in, and his usual sneer was directed towards you and Pansy as he sulked off to the castle.

You and Pansy sat at the Slytherin table in your usual spots. Draco was a few people away from the both of you, as he usually was, but you both ignored him. It was easy to do, especially recently. Blaise had taken a peculiar interest in Pansy, and wherever Blaise went followed his friend Klein. 

Blaise was busy fawning over Pansy, watching her with a dazed look as she brushed her hair from her face. Klein kept his eyes locked on you, something you did not mind.

The boy was a year ahead of you, and he was the interest of just about every Slytherin girl. His green eyes were piercing, especially against the black hair that fell onto his forehead. He always kept his tie remarkably straight, and you often found yourself twirling it in your fingers to tease him. 

Tonight, he and Blaise walked with you and Pansy around the grounds before curfew. 

“Are you going to the party on Saturday?” Blaise asked Pansy, bringing his arm up to wrap around her shoulders.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, and upon seeing your pitiful face she continued, “I’ll try, but no guarantees.”  

“Are you going?” Klein asked you, pulling a hand from his pocket to adjust his green tie.

“Of course,” you smirked, “I would never miss a party.”

Klein stared at you for a moment longer, and aware of his gaze, you bit your lip. You liked to mess with him, he was always so uptight and serious, it was fun to see him unwind just at your little actions.

You and Pansy said goodnight to the boys as you went to the girls dorms. 

The next day was odd, for as you came down the stairs to the common room, you saw Draco. It was not odd to see Draco in the common room, but it was odd for him to not immediately find you in a room and insult you. Instead, he merely locked his eyes with yours and stared at you. When you crinkled your face in confusion, he looked away, turning his attention back down to the book perched in his lap.

“Ready for breakfast?” Pansy asked, coming from behind you on the stairs.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, still looking at Draco as you followed her out of the common room.

In Potions, Draco didn’t torment you. In Transfiguration, he only stared at you, no sneer or grimace present. Most strangely, in Charms, he didn’t even bat an eye when your wand movement was off and your spell rebounded and hit Hannah Abbot. 

You apologized to Hannah profusely, even offering to walk her to the infirmary as her hand began to swell two times its normal size. She blushed, obviously embarrassed by the affliction, but insisted she could go by herself. She made sure you knew she forgave you, smiling politely as you followed her to the door and watched her go down the hallway. You shouted one last apology at her as she turned the corner, and she lifted her swelled hand in a friendly wave. 

Draco watched the entire interaction from his seat, his eyes following you as you held Hannah’s large hand in yours to look at the damage you caused. He looked at the guilty expression on your face, the red tint in your cheeks. He felt two things bubbling in his stomach: adoration and rage. He felt adoration, as he had been feeling for you for a while, and felt rage because he felt this way.

He swallowed hard as your eyes met his. In your flustered and guilty state, you shot him an annoyed look. He widened his eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring, and plunged his face downward to look back into his Charms textbook.

Draco had been weird lately, you noticed. For it was the third day, Friday by now, of no loud arguments in the hall, no insults in the common room, and not even a stray dinner roll being launched at your head during dinner (yes, he did that often). You and Pansy, however, were too busy doing her late work to do anything about Draco. She really was behind, and it was hard for you to do her late work as you had new assignments to do yourself. Pansy found a similar difficulty, leading you both to spend your Friday night poured over textbooks in the common room.

“Hard at work, girls?” you and Pansy looked up to see Blaise and Klein.

They fell into the couch across form you where you sat at a wooden desk against the wall. You had pulled two large armchairs to the table, the leather giving you some sort of relief as you bent over the work. Klein’s long arms stretch the length of the two person couch, and his stalky fingers tapped against it. Blaise leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at Pansy. Klein eyed you hungrily, obviously enjoying the sight of your tie undone and your skirt riding up as you sat with your legs tucked beneath you.

Normally, you and Pansy would have engaged the boys, entertained yourselves with their mindless presence, but you had real things to do. Blaise and Klein may have been handsome, but they definitely weren’t the company you wanted right now.

“Hello Blaise,” Pansy mumbled tiredly, not looking up from the Transfiguration essay she was about to finish, “how’re you?”

“I’m alright,” he said airily, leaning back into the couch and taking Pansy’s simple question as an invitation to stay and talk.

You fought the urge to groan, not looking up form the Arithmancy problems you scrawled over and over. 

“How about we sneak to the kitchens tonight?” Klein suggested, and you heard the smirk in his voice without having to look at him.

“We’re busy,” you said curtly, clenching your jaw as you came across a difficult set of numbers.

Pansy looked up at you from her paper, flashing you a warning look. You rolled your eyes, giving her an exasperated look. She raised her eyebrows, her face becoming stern. You sighed, releasing the tight grip on your quill.

“I’m sorry boys,” you forced your sweetest voice, “we’ve got loads of homework to do before the party tomorrow. Another time?”

Blaise looked disappointed, but accepting. Klein stood to his full height, and your eyes followed him as he grew. He looked down at you with a playful smirk, licking his lips.

“Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded and Pansy waved kindly to Blaise. You decided then that you were no longer interested in Klein. He had been fun when he got flustered just from a glance, but now he was becoming like every other teenage boy. His smirks made you want to gag, and his lingering looks were creepy. You figured you’d tell him tomorrow night, if you still cared that much by then. 

You and Pansy continued to work until Pansy slouched back in her chair and groaned loudly.

“I can’t get it done tonight. I’ll have to work on it tomorrow,” she pouted, but looked resolute.

You didn’t bother to attempt another guilt trip, or convince her otherwise. Pansy’s mind was made up. You had to go to this party alone. Pansy wouldn’t let you stay in the dorm all night with her, either, so it’s not like you even had a choice. At least Klein wouldn’t bother you. He seemed to only have the guts to come up to you if Blaise did too, and he wouldn’t come up to you if you weren’t with Pansy. Now all you had to do was make sure not to get roped into an argument with Draco. You had to be the bigger person for one night and make sure you wouldn’t do anything you’d regret in the morning.

Pansy was right, she couldn’t get all her work done that night. She sat on her bed with books sprawled around her. You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the clothe hugging your body. You looked good, you felt good.

“You’re going to be fine,” Pansy reassured you for the tenth time as you sat at the end of her bed, “you can go to parties without me.”

“Okay, but if I come back here tonight having lost a shoe or something, it’s your fault,” you joked, smiling as Pansy laughed.

You, Daphne, and Millicent stayed in your dorm for a little while longer. You moved some clothes around in your trunk, lifting a hidden compartment at the bottom. You retrieved two bottles of firewhisky, handing them to Daphne and Millicent. You closed your trunk, meeting the impressed expressions of the girls. Usually Fred and George Weasley provided alcohol for the school, known for their impressive parties. You and Pansy, however, had your own supply you liked to keep for rainy days. While this wasn’t a rainy day, you couldn’t help the need for a little liquid courage as you had to go to your first party without your best friend. You took the bottle from Millicent and Pansy giggled as she looked up from her Ancient Rune dictionary to watch you take a large swig of the drink.

You felt it burn as it traveled down your throat, and it spread through your body like a warm blanket. You handed the bottle back to Millicent, and the three of you finished off an entire bottle. You didn’t want to go downstairs until you heard the music become loud enough, and by the time you were putting the empty bottle back in your trunk, the party roared downstairs. 

The three of you said goodbye to Pansy and went to the common room. The music became louder and louder as you got closer to the party. Soon, Daphne was dragging you and Millicent to a large table with assorted drinks. You watched a boy on the other side of the table pouring himself a heavy amount of a clear liquid. He met your eyes and handed you the bottle. You looked at the label but all that was there was a cartoon drawing of a witch with bubbles spouting from her mouth. You raised your eyebrow at the boy, and he smiled, taking a sip of his drink. You filled your own cup with the liquid, drinking it quickly. It burned more than the firewhisky did, but it was still enjoyable.

You felt your head feel lighter as Daphne clasped onto your hand to pull you out to the dance floor. You danced with her, and as you moved your cup slid from your hand. You and Daphne looked at it for a moment, the cup spilled over as a wet spot formed on the carpet. You looked back up at each other and fell into a fit of giggles. 

You continued to dance, looking around the crowd with ease. You felt like someone was staring at you, but you couldn’t find anyone in particular. The music and alcohol coursed through your veins. You felt lighter than you had in months, no worrying thoughts of homework or boys, or even Draco Malfoy.

The second you thought about how you weren’t thinking about Malfoy, you were immediately thinking about him. Part of you missed the hateful sparks between you, the natural narrow of your eyes at the sight of him. 

Your body tensed involuntarily, and your drunk subconscious was already hoping to see his blond hair in the crowd. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking of what to say so Draco’s stern face would devolve into a furious expression. 

You slowed next to Daphne, a wicked look overtaking your dazed face.

“What is it?” Daphne shouted into your ear, pulling you closer by your arm.

“I’ve got to go find someone,” you shouted back, “I’ll be back in a second.”

You were moving through the crowd before Daphne could reach out and stop you. A small voice in the back of your head sounded a bit like Pansy, her familiars warnings from the last party you were at with Draco. She had found you as you were just about to pour your drink down his front, and her soothing words floated into your drunken mind like good-natured clouds.

“He’s not worth it, honestly. All the stress he causes you is going to give you wrinkles, you don’t want wrinkles. Leave him be,” Pansy was right then and she would have been right again. Alas, Pansy was not here and her words did not echo loud enough in your head as you finally found the blond.

He was draped across a leather couch. His legs dangled off the arm as his head was perched on a pile of blankets. At the floor, Crabbe and Goyle hunched over, goblets clutched loosely in their seemingly unconscious hands. Draco’s eyes were closed, his long eyelashes delicately hovering over his pink flushed cheeks. His hair was pushed off his forehead, falling in handsome tufts onto the blankets under him. You stood there for a moment, interchanging which leg to rest your weight on.

“Are you going to say something,” Draco suddenly drawled, barely loud enough to be heard over the music, “or are you content to sit in silence for once?”

You scoffed, taking a breath that made your chest rise. You walked towards him, curling your warm fingers around his legs and flinging them off the arm of the couch. His body twisted and his eyes opened at the touch. You sat next to him, at least a foot between the both of you.

“What do you want?” he asked, leaning over to take Crabbe and Goyle’s full goblets from them. He handed you Goyle’s as he drank from Crabbe’s.

“Just wanted to see if you had done anything embarrassing that I could tell the whole school about tomorrow,” you lied, taking a considerable sip from the goblet.

Draco scoffs next to you, “Not yet, darling.”

You gave Draco a glance. He seemed distressed about something. The way he cradled the goblet in his hands and drank with an urgency was the way someone drinks when their upset.

“What’s got your panties all tied up, Draco?” you asked teasingly, leaning in his direction slightly.

Draco looked at your lidded eyes, the natural smirk on your pretty lips, the outfit you wore that you looked absolutely amazing in; he couldn’t feel any rage as he looked at you that night.

“You,” he said softly, staying stiffly straight but turning his head to face you.

You felt your cheeks warm, looking at him with a curious smirk.

“Really?” you indulged, wondering what else Draco may drunkenly confess. His words weren’t slurring like yours, but the faint pink flush on his cheeks and his unseemly kindness told you he was not sober.

He nodded silently, looking down at the goblet in his lap.

“Draco,” you said, turning to rest your back against the arm of the couch as your legs spread on the cushions. Your feet were inches from touching Draco’s thighs, and he tensed as he looked at the lack of space, “You’ve been acting odd with me recently.”

Draco, if possible, tensed even more at your statement. He was not nearly as drunk as you thought he was, or as you were.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he stuttered, biting his bottom lip. This was the first time you had ever seen Draco Malfoy seem flustered. 

“Draco?” you slurred, not speaking again until he turned his face to yours.

You moved forward, bending your legs so you still didn’t touch him, but so your face was close to his.

“Do you fancy me?” you drawled, intrigued. 

Draco’s previously tense and stiff stature seemed to relax, as if a secret was released that he had been bottling up. He brought his goblet to his lips slowly, and you did the same, the both of you finishing off what Crabbe and Goyle had been drinking. 

“If I’m going to be honest-” Draco had turned his head to you and began speaking, but you weren’t listening. His lips looked so soft and his eyes looked so kind, you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him.

He was surprised at first, unmoving against your lips. You smiled, still against him, and it seemed to make him realize what was happening. Within seconds, one of his hands was on your waist as the other was on your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, tasting a cinnamon flavored alcohol on his tongue as he slid it into your mouth. Your brought your hands to his neck, unable to stop yourself from playing with his hair. You ran your fingernails across his scalp and down to the nape of his neck, smiling again as he moaned into your lips.

You pulled away when it felt like your lungs needed air, which they did, and kept your eyes closed. Your shoulder fell into the side of the couch, your forehead resting on Draco’s shoulder. 

You felt yourself drifting off into a drunken sleep, your body feeling heavy as it slumped into Draco’s.

“I really like you, Y/n. I really do,” Draco confessed from beside you, stroking your hair, “I think you’re the most clever person I’ve ever met.”

You felt your heart swoon at his confession, wondering if he said it because he thought you were already asleep, or if the alcohol was affecting him as much as you. You shifted, bringing your legs to fall into his lap, to which Draco wrapped his slender fingers around your thigh and pulled your closer to his body.

“I hope you’re not too drunk to remember this,” he mumbled, his own eyes fluttering shut as the both of you fell asleep. 

-Chapstick- Pansy Parkinson x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: the lesbians have risen

  Request: pansy x reader where they are friends & reader loves chapsticks very much because chapped lips also the taste and the smell are cute ?? and then she has different variants of it. Pans could smell it sometimes when she purposely gets closer, got curious one time and asked for it and she casually gave it. One time Pans asked what flavour was the one on her lips right now because it's different from the usual??? and reader was like see for yourself and then they ki- IM SO GAY FOR PANSY PARKINSON - 💐

  House: Slytherin

  Possible Triggers / Warnings: lesbian power couple baby, cursing, y/n being a bottom, making out. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   since day one you had been best friends with Pansy Parkinson. Even in your small little friend group that consisted of Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott, you just gravitated towards Pansy more. Maybe it was because you were both girls or the fact that you had met her first.

   throughout your school years you and Pansy were like a power duo. Some were scared, some wanted your title, and the rest despised you both. Even with all the popularity you weren’t mean or cude to people who didn’t deserve it. Kill them with kindness is what you’d always say.

   around your 6th year is when you enveloped your slight chapstick addiction. You had noticed your lips become more flaking and chapped as you grew up so over the summer when you visited america you bought a pack with a variety of different flavors. 

   Pansy made fun of you at first because of how quickly you had started to buy more and more until you had a collection. After all the teasing you two developed a sort of game you could say. Anytime Pansy could smell the chapstick on you she would try and guess what scent it was.

   at first it was cute and friendly, but out of nowhere she would grab your face and bring it close to hers so she could smell the chapstick. It would be so sudden and make your stomach twist in a way you had never felt before, especially when she would send you a wink after she backed away. 

   after a lot of thinking and ‘therapy’ sessions with Theo you had come to the conclusion that you had fell for your best friend. It was very cheesy, but it was true. Pansy Parkinson had stolen your heart and you terrified at the power she held over you.

    ☼-☪-☼

   7th year

   you were practically running towards the field, hoping the outfit you chose would keep you warm enough in the nippy weather. You did not want to be late to Draco and Blaises quidditch match against Gryffindor. Of course you cheered on your friends, who wouldn’t?

   you began to climb up the stairs to make your way into the stands. Once you make it to the top you gaze through the crowd and spot the familiar black haired female leaning back to look up at the sky. She looked very focused on something in the sky.

   Pansy was wearing a large black sweater with some kind of white t-shirt sticking out from the bottom with matching black pants and shoes. She looked in casual clothes- in anything really. You make your way through the crowd, pushing past a couple people while mumbling ‘excuse me’ and such.

   you take a seat next to Pansy who looks back down to face you “Thought you weren’t gonna show. You look nice by the way” she comments and you shake your head. You were wearing a black crop with matching pants and a oversized navy blue hoodie. 

   your stomach twist like many times before. “Thanks” you reply before suddenly realizing you were missing a friend “Where’s Theo?” you ask. Pansy lifts up her hand to point in front of her. You follow her finger until you spot the back of Theos head “He wanted to be closer to watch Blaise”

   you nod once before you heard Lee Jordan begin the announcements.

    ☼-☪-☼

   while watching a breeze blew past you and towards Pansy. The Slytherin girls nose scrunched up as she smelled something, something fruity? (because your gay duh) She turns to look at you, brown eyes narrowed. You felt her eyes on you and face her “What?-” 

   Pansy grabs your face with both of her hands. You could feel the cold metal of the rings she wore against your cheek. Pansy leans in close, her nose centimeters from your mouth. You could hear her sniff as your face began to feel hot. 

   she was so close. The smell of hrt minty breath from her gum she had been chewing made everything in your body flare up. It was only a second, but felt like hours before she pulled away “Your wearing strawberry” Pansy had a cocky smirk on her face as she spoke, her hands slowly falling from your face

   you blink mindlessly as you reach into the packet of your jacket. You pull out the tube of strawberry chapstick. Pansy’s smirk only grows wider “Knew it, what's my prize?” she asked. Your face twist a bit. A prize? She had never asked for one before.

   “What do you want?”

   “A Kiss”

   your mouth opens a bit to speak, but you choke on your words instead. Pansy lets out a chuckle and turns to face forward again “I’m only kidding”

    ☼-☪-☼

   you were walking alongside Pansy, Theo, Draco and Blaise. You were all leaving the quidditch field and head back to the common room. Slytherin had won and the team was going out for butterbeer at the three broomsticks. Draco and Blaise had opted out saying they wanted to celebrate with close friends.

   just you guys, how sweet.

   “So- did Y/n and Pans. I flew past you guys and for a brief second and i swore i saw you guys making out” Draco spoke making Blaise and Theo laugh. “You guys were what now? I knew you were close, but no that close damn” Draco adds were made the boys laugh even harder.

   you roll your eyes playfully and walk behind behind Draco. He doesn’t see you as you wack the back of his head “Ow!” he exclaimed. Pansy chuckles “We were not making out by the way. I was smelling her chapstick” she explains. The boys nod and silence consumes you all after that.

   that is until Theo speaks up “That’s still gay”

    ☼-☪-☼

   you all spent the night together, talking, goofing around, and drinking firewhiskey. It was a fun idea at the time, but you all got wasted more than you’d like to admit. Your E/c eyes open slowly and your met with skin? You lift your head up, you were laying on top of Pansy.

   Y/n.exe has stopped working

   she was wearing her black flannel pants as well as her matching sports bra. Your heart might have stopped right then and there. You look down at what you were wearing and noticed you only had your undergarments and Pansy’s sweater that she had worn at the game. 

   before having time to freak the hell out you heard the black haired girl mumble under you “morning” she mumbles, her eyes opening slowly. You give her a half smile before sitting up “Um- how did- how did i end up here?” you ask. Pansy uses her elbows to prop herself up.

   she pushes her bangs from her face. They had began to grow over her eyes, but refused to cut them after you said you liked them longer. “You got a bit tipsy so i brought you here to rest. As well as those three” she says and points to the floor. You raise a brow and crawl to the edge of the bed.

   on the floor was Blaise and Theo cuddling on the ground. Cute. Draco was laying next to Blaise curled up in a ball with a blanket over him. Also cute. “Damn, i guess you played mom for a bit huh?” you joke, sitting back down on the bed. 

   Pansy shrugs her shoulders “You could say that. Your hug things in your sleep, did you know that?”

   “I’m sorry what?”

    ☼-☪-☼

   later in the day you were in your own dorm room studying for an exam in charms you had the next day. While writing down a few notes you heard your door open. You place the quill down and turn in your chair to see Pansy at the door. 

   she had on a black t-shirt with a sheer long sleeve one underneath, black pants with a white dragon that stopped above her ankles and black socks with checkered vans. Pansy had a plate of food in each hand “Theo told me you hadn’t eaten lunch yet so i brought you some.”

   “You look cute by the way” she adds with a wink

   you smile lightly and pat the chair next to yours “I’m guessing you came to eat with me as well?” you ask and she nods, taking a seat. She places the plate of food in front of you and places her down as well. Pansy began to move your textbooks around as you reached into the pocket off your black jeans.

   you pulled out your new chapstick ‘fruit punch’ and took off the cap. You smear it on your bottom lip before popping the cap back on and into your pocket while rubbing both your lips together to apply it evenly. Pansy smells something fruity again and smiles lightly.

   except for this smelt different. Way different. Nothing you had worn before.

   Pansy looks at you as you grab a fork with a amused smirk “New chapstick?” she asked. You noticed her playful tone. Turning in your sea you face Pansy “Maybe, maybe not” you say vaguely, shrugging your shoulders. Pansy rolls her eyes and faces you too.

   like last time she reaches up and grabs your face, pulling it close to hers. You hear her sniff just like before, but this time her eyebrows furrow “What the fuck is that?” she asks, making you laugh quietly “Can’t figure it out?” you tease. Her brown eyes narrow into a glare “Shut up” she hisses.

   what a baby

   Pansy stays like that for a couple seconds before exhaling loudly “What the hell is it” she grumbles. A risky idea popped into your mind in an instant. It was dumb, but you were so tired of just being friends with her. You were willing to risk it all in one question.

   “See for yourself then”

   you couldn’t really remember much between the the couple seconds of silence. All you remember is Pansy’s lips on your feverishly. She leaned into kiss you deeper, making you almost fall out the chair. She was not taking it slow in the slightest.

   As Pansy’s mouth moves against yours she leans down and uses her hands to scoop up your thighs. She lifts you up and you wrap your arms around her waist tightly, making Pansy let out a muffled noise. You felt a hard surface hit your back and assumed Pansy had leant you against the wall.

   Pansy ran her tongue against your bottom lip. You open your mouth slightly for her and Pansy’s tongue slipped into your mouth instantly. You felt a cold piece of metal on your tongue that connected to hers. It took you a second to process what it was.

   she had a tongue piercing

   “You have a tongue piercing?” you ask between hot kisses. You feel her smirk against your lips as one hand traces circles on your exposed stomach. She pulls away for a moment “Yeah. Problem?” she questions, panting slightly. You shake your head quickly “Nope- it’s just really hot”

    ☼-☪-☼

   an hour later

   “You owe me ten galleons” Draco spoke.

   Blaise groans and reaches into his pocket to dig out the money and place it in his hands “Yeah, yeah whatever” he grumbles.

   Theo smiles happily “I’m so happy for them!”

   Draco nods slowly “I’m pretty sure the whole house heard them though”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody- lesbian things lesbian things. Anyways request are open, peace.

Harry Potter Fanfic Recommendations about Trans Characters

I will not pretend to be an expert by any means when I am cis, but I’ve come across plenty of stories with trans characters in the past and wanted to not only re-find them but also discover more. Here is a far-from-comprehensive list of links sorted by which character is trans. Some of these stories have more than one, in which case I deferred to the protagonist. 

I intend to keep adding to this as I discover more, so if anyone has specific recommendations, please send them my way! I only have ten listed thus far, but I wanted to get the list out there.

Harry Potter

the girl who lived (again) - Features Harry/Ginny. 10,330 words. Rated G.

Molly tried her best. When Harry had told them, Arthur had asked excitedly, "is this a Muggle thing?" Hermione had hurried out a "no!" and a frantic history of gender diversity in the wizarding world.

"It's just that I'm a girl," Harry had said, and Arthur had nodded and asked her about how telephone booths worked. He would call her by the right pronouns until the day he died at the respectable old age of one hundred and thirty three, and he would make it seem easy.

But Molly had to try. Hermione explained things faster and higher-pitched every time Molly messed up a pronoun. Molly frowned and muttered and put extra potatoes on Harry's plate at breakfast. Harry slept in Ron's room, which didn't bother either of them but which made Hermione scowl.

Harry got boxes of sweets and warm hugs, as Molly chewed things over. For her fifteenth Christmas, the Weasley sweater she would receive would be a bright, friendly, terrible pink.

The next time Harry visited, Molly put her on Ginny's floor to sleep-- for some definition of sleep that involved Hermione hissing threats at three in the morning if Harry and Ginny didn't "shut up about Wronski feints, do you know what time it is."

My note: This story is actually a re-imagining of her whole book story. Her name is considered at one point, but she decides to keep using Harry because she feels it fits her. It also includes references to other trans and gender fluid characters.

Draco Malfoy

The Only True Goal of the Universe - Features Harry/Draco and background Hermione/Ron, Seamus/Dean. 22,753 words. Rated E.

It comes up, as most juvenile things do, in a game of Truth or Dare.

Shenanigans - Features Harry/Draco and background Hermione/Ron. 4823 words. Rated E.

Of course Draco’s orgasm hits him right as Potter does the one thing he’s not supposed to do. Of fucking course.

Or, the blood curse lingering over the Malfoys has landed on Draco, and he’s doomed to get knocked up by the first cock that gets inside his cunt. Just his luck that cock ends up being Harry Potter’s.

Hand-in-Hand and Handkerchief - Features Draco/Astoria. 3008 words. Rated G

Draco Malfoy is not generally sympathetic to the sight of tears, but when he stumbles upon a second year Slytherin sniffling in the rose garden during the Yule Ball, for once he manages not to be a complete arse. Astoria is just glad that he had a handkerchief in his pocket because she forgot hers.

My Note: This includes three trans characters, including a happy adult example. It also has mention of a really cool magical potion idea for transition that the author has provided a free-for-use explanation of here.

Sirius Black

Discards - Features Remus/Sirius, James/Lily. 76,032 words. Rated M. Modern non-magical AU.

When 21-year-old assistant librarian Sirius spots a cute hipster college student at the Seattle Public Library, he just needs to figure out a subtle way of determining whether he's into guys. But Remus's life is more complicated than Sirius knows.

My note:  Tons of diversity within this cast with no white main characters and many different sexualities mentioned. Also sex positive with great commentary about homelessness, HIV, sex work, classism, and more. 

Live Like We’re Renegates - Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James. 24,378 words. Rated E.

Exuberant, proud, genderfluid, cheerleader, self-described narcissist. All things to describe Sirius Black. It's a stark contrast from the self-imposed loner, Journalist, and Gender Studies major Remus Lupin who is thrown into Sirius' world after accepting a project for a class. When the two worlds collide, both lives are changed for the better.

Sirius leant forward a bit, meeting Remus’ eyes. “Are you asking if I go for cute boys in beanies and jumpers, Remus Lupin?”

Remus’ face went hot. “Er. No. I mean…er…”

Sirius laughed. “Find your chill, love. I’m joking.” He winked at Remus and sat back again.

My note: Sirius is genderfluid and uses He/Him pronouns. Remus is deaf with a cochlear implant.

Lay Your Hands on Me -Features Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James. 8947 words. Rated E.

In which Sirius really likes trying out new hairstyles over the years and Remus really can't concentrate on much else, to be honest. This fic features reckless and impulsive teenage boys, classic Marauders-style banter, a low-key overdramatic Remus, and falling in love with close friends.

Or, alternatively: Three times Remus really wanted to touch Sirius' hair and one time he actually did.

Remus Lupin

TransFigured (and continued series) - Features Remus/Sirius. 57,170. Rated E.

“We thought you might be a werewolf," said Sirius. "What?" Remus almost laughed at the absurdity. "Last year. James and I thought — but the dates didn’t quite match up. With the full moons, I mean." "Well, I’m not." "I know. All I meant was, we thought you might be, and we still wanted to be friends. Whatever you’re not telling us — how much worse can it be?"

All Hail the Outlaws - Features Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James, Peter/Dorcas. 29,330 words. Rated E.

One of Remus Lupin's three jobs happens to be working maintenance for their flat building. He gets to meet all sorts, most of whom he would rather have nothing to do with. Until James Potter and Sirius Black move in across the hall. Engineering students and self-proclaimed geniuses, the pair set out to make their neighbours new best friends, and everyone's life is turned upside down, but in the best way possible.

My note: Sirius is blind, and the fic spends a lot of focus on each man’s experiences with bigotry and learning how to best be there for each other.

Succession of Halos - Features Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James. 7340 words. Rated E

When Remus gets talked into seeing his favourite author--Astronomy Professor S. Black--hold a stargazing lecture, he anticipates a stodgy old man in tweed. He does not expect the ripped jeans and rolling-stones t-shirt wearing, motor-bike riding Sirius Black with his wicked smile and passion for the stars. Remus is sure there's no chance between them, but little does he know, Sirius has a passion for many things in life, one of which being Remus Lupin.

My note: I have this listed under Remus, but Sirius is also genderfluid. Baby Harry is featured in the story, and is blind.

Child Characters

‘Twas Brillig - Features Harry/Draco with failed Harry/Ginny. 73,998 words. Rated E.

Harry reads a chapter of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland to his children before bed every night and through the story, he and his middle child find an ally in each other as they, along with Alice, discover a world that just doesn't seem to make sense when taken at face value. The more aware Harry becomes - embracing his child's reality - the more motivated he is to build a wizarding world that is fully inclusive, and by processing these life lessons finds he's able to connect with another person in ways that have always eluded him.

My Note: There are two trans characters in this story, one being Al (who begins using Alice with Al still as a nickname) and another being an adult I’ll leave unnamed because it comes up organically. This story is as much if not more so about Harry’s sexuality, and there is also strong representation of drag and crossdressing from a cis male character.

Miscellaneous

When The Letter Comes by Sara Fox - A published short story that seems definitely inspired by Harry Potter but also by other fantasy works.

Henry believes that someday, something awesome will happen–everything will turn out all right and all her problems will disappear once her letter arrives, welcoming her to magic school. So even though puberty is already here with changes (like her voice deepening and hair growing in places she does not want), she also knows it’s only a matter of time. After all, hundreds of books have said so.

But when the letter finally comes on Henry’s thirteenth birthday, it is not addressed to her, but to her sister.

When The Letter Comes is a short story with a YA trans protagonist that embraces the experience of those left behind, who must find their own way in the world–magic or not.

Angst That Has Nothing To Do With MHA But I Have To Share It With Someone

I’m Sorry. Draco Malfoy

Request: No. Just me missing Harry Potter and missing Harry Potter means missing my sweet baby Draco and Draco makes me angsty. 

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: The Bad Words

Notes:  I know the title says I’m sorry but I’m really not.  I just really love Draco Malfoy and he gives me the angsty feelings (wow have I written an obsessive number of angsty Draco fics over the years) and I have successfully annoyed my friend with my memes and angsty feelings, so she 10/10 would not read it, but like I simply gotta share this with SOMEONE.  So, maybe one of you out there also really loves Draco Malfoy (message me so we can send pictures of Tom Felton back and forth and obsess thanks) and loves angsty angst and can support me in my returning mood of sorrow-filled nostalgia because DRACO MALFOY DESERVED BETTER. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. 

Everyone heard the train before they ever saw it.  You and a few other students mingled on the platform, waiting for the train to arrive back to Hogwarts after the holidays, waiting for friends to unload off the cars.  The snow flitted around, dusting every exposed surface in a white blanket.  The train rounded the final bend before pulling into the station.  Students of every age bounded out of the cars, bearing gifts and stories for the friends they left behind at the castle.  He was always one of the last ones off, so you weren’t expecting anything different this time around.  As the stream of students started to slow down to a trickle, Draco Malfoy stepped down from the train car.  A black coat bundled tightly around that familiar frame, a black hat covering icy blonde hair, a whole wardrobe matching that saddened composure that had become so customary.  

You were quick to be by his side.  No words spoken, there never were.  Simply arms wrapped around each other’s waists as you followed the masses to the castle.  His gloved fingers were fixed tightly on your side, making you squirm slightly in discomfort, but he failed to notice.  His grey eyes were trained blankly ahead, just as they always were when he returned from home. It’s not my home.  Don’t call it that. His rigid voice chided through your head even at the thought of calling Malfoy Manor his home anymore.  Hogwarts was him home now.  It was his one safe place.  He could be away from everything: the pressure, the ridicule, his father.  

The castle gates closed securely behind everyone and the two of you broke away from the groups as they dispersed to their respective common rooms.  Fingers leaving waists to find their perfect fit as footsteps connect with marble stairs down, down, down.  The steady sound of shoes hitting the floor started to slow as the pair came to a halt. It didn’t take long, but once he was away from everyone else, it never did.  The sheen in his eyes had been there since you found him and the fact that it had stayed so securely there until now was something of a special talent of his.  

You felt the warm tears against your skin before you heard that stifled sob.  His hat now dropped to the floor, you let yourself run your fingers through his thick hair in an attempt to put him at ease.  His arms wrapped around your waist, holding so desperately onto his last bit of comfort, his last bit of happiness. 

It was never meant to be like this.  He never meant to make it a tradition for the two of you to duck into the same nook after every visit he was forced to make home for him to do nothing but sob into your shoulder.  He never meant to let you into his world and see him so hurt, so broken.  But he never thought you would have been there to greet him after the holidays all those years back.  He never thought that your smile would have been enough to break him right there on the empty platform.  He never thought he would be soaking your robes with tears year after year.

You sat him down on the window sill, taking his face between your hands, moving it gently to see the purple bruises that so elegantly decorated his face.  Everyone knew.  Everyone had always known.  Draco liked to pretend that no one had any inkling of an idea apart from you,  but even he wasn’t that naive.  He heard the whispers.  He saw the sad looks from his professors.  Madame Pomfrey always seemed to be the first one to ask how his holiday had been, trying to refrain from touching the bruises or the cuts that he always brought back.  Draco Malfoy had too much pride to admit that his father beat him.  Even to you, he never said it outright.  It was always “Father and I got in an argument.” An argument that never failed to send Draco slinking away with a black eye or a busted lip or a broken nose.  

He refused to look at you.  Embarrassment always his top emotion when the feeling of your skin inevitably calmed him down enough to turn his sobs into small hiccups.  He combatted your hand on his chin by tugging you closer to him, hiding his face in your stomach, forcing you to release a sad sigh and return to pushing your fingers through his hair as what remaining tears soaked through your shirt.  

“Draco,” you whisper.  You gently push him back so you can sit down next to him.

He finally meets your eyes.  The fondness that he had grown so accustomed to finding was staring right back at him. Your beautiful naivety of everything happening in his life these past months, your unwavering loyalty to him. Another choked sob escaped his throat as he turned away from you.  

“Draco,” you whispered again, scooting closer to him.  A soothing hand on his forearm was all it took for him to come reeling at you.  A swift back hand to your cheek.  Shock.  Silence.  Regret.  

Draco Malfoy staggered away from you, not wanting to be next to you as the shame washed over him.  He just stared at you, mouth agape as your fingers moved along the red mark on your face.  Even from the new distance, you could see him shaking.  His hand moved to him forearm, almost like he was protecting it from you.  He was fully expecting you to walk away from him, to leave him alone in this nook to cry and feel sorry for himself.  He was not expecting you to walk over to him and take his coat off. He was not expecting you to slap his hand away when he tried to stop you from pushing the sleeve of his suit jacket up.  He sure as hell wasn’t expecting the deafening silence that surrounded the two of you as you stared down at it.  He was prepared for you to shout, to scream, to run immediately to Dumbledore to turn him in.  He had braced himself months ago for the “We’re done.” He was prepared for every possible outcome.  Except this one.  He hadn’t braced himself for this silence.  For your shaky breath.  For the sight of your hands trembling as you pulled his sleeve back down.

“I’m so-”

“I really fucking hate your dad,” you whispered.

“What?”

“This- This isn’t you.  You wouldn’t have done this.  You never would have done something like this, right?  You- You’re a good person, Draco.  You wouldn’t have gone to his side on your own. So, it had to have been him, right? You wouldn’t have done this.  This isn’t you,”  You kept repeating yourself over and over again, trying to convince yourself more so than trying to get a straight answer from him.  The small shake in your voice, it made Draco’s whole demeanor shift.  

He pulled you into him.  No words.  He was going to let you believe what you wanted.  He was going to let you believe that his father had threatened him into taking the oath, into becoming a Death Eater.  He wasn’t going to tell you that he had promised to kill the Headmaster.  He wasn’t going to tell you that it was Voldemort who held the threat, his one weakness, over his head to get the small “Yes” from his lips. 

“This is my mess.�� Not yours.  But, I swear on my life that I will never let him get to you, understand?  You have nothing to worry about.  I’m still the same man I’ve always been, okay?” He felt you nod against his chest.  He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, still holding you firm against him in order to prevent you from seeing the steady stream of hot tears flowing down his face once again. 

What would your ideal drarry fic be? Like, how would they get together, what tropes would be involved, what would be your ideal story line? Any squicks or triggers or things you aren't interested in? Any HC's with the two of them? :D

THIS IS THREE THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY SEVEN WORDS OR SOMETHING HELP ME

Whoo boi, honey, lemme tell you, this answer gave me some s t r e s s. Tumblr, can you just...idk, have a save drafts option for asks? No?

Anyways, back to the point. Snuggle down into your blankets y’all, ‘cause this is gonna be one long post.

What would my ideal drarry fic be? Okay, siriusly, legit anything with angst. Copious amounts of angst. Drown me in the angst. I’m always willing to read an angsty fic, almost always as willing to read a fluffy fic and occasionally have an urge for smut but that’s like…every three months or so lmao. I prefer a story that isn’t based on the size of one’s cock. (Sorry if that’s a little crude). I’m fine with any length of fic, as long as it has a good story behind it and if it hopefully has some heart-wrenching moments that make me feel like I might have a soul after all. I love fics that keep their character – not too much, though – and have them arguing with each other all the time – its more real to me, and makes me laugh. I love drarry because of that, because it’s that ship that will keep their relationship, unlike idk shrek and Fiona who fall for each other and lose their old self completely. Drarry is that ship that stays intact and old and new at the same time, and that’s why I love it. 

How would they get together? I have this vision of the two getting together slowly. First it’s banter, insults, hexing, all the while having miscommunication and some serious pining because I’m an absolute sucker for that shit. As I said, angst. Hate turns to like and death threats to exasperated, witty little replies, private jokes between the two of them – a Malfoy Stinks embroidered on his robes in place of Healer Malfoy.

I love fics where there’s just that one, final leap of – I have to do it, otherwise I’ll never get another chance, I don’t care about the consequences. If it’s a kiss that gets them together, in that ‘final chance’ way, I love it when the other is too shocked, and the first person just loses all hope (I mean until like two seconds later when they’re snogging the life out of each other lmao). Basically just a slow build and all the sass 😊 

Tropes? Okay, I’m gonna admit that even though I’ve been in the fandom for a few months, I still can’t define so much, but I hope most of what I write here is legible.

I love coffeeshop Aus, I find them really cute and sweet, and a blushing Malfoy is always a bonus. Eighth year is my absolute jam, unless it’s a drinking fic in which case no thanks. I love friends to lovers or enemies to lovers – the slow build, especially if the author has timed it perfectly, is just argh, I love it. Pining has been mentioned like a hundred times already but I’m going to say it again just because. Roommates are okay, I guess, but not exactly my go-to. I do like muggle Aus, and even though I think Potter should be a teacher, I enjoy the action in an Auror Partners fic, too. Also uh..oops? This was supposed to be tropes that were involved not the tropes you like you dumb butt. That’s not what Nonny asked.

My ideal storyline for a drarry fic? Not sure if this is what you’re asking but I’m gonna go with it and if I’m wrong then I’m wrong y’know?

As I said, I like fics with pining. I love a number of storylines, but I’m just gonna choose one for this thing since it’s already almost if not over two thousand words (is anyone even reading this? Who cares, I’m having fun) okay I checked its like over 2600 help me. Also this turned out into a fic not an ideal storyline hhhhhhhh

I guess I like fics with slow-building pining, going from meeting together at work or having to work together for some reason in eighth year, or just seeing each other in eighth year. PTSD gets them together, but so does the (admittedly weaker) banter, since nobody understands either of them – the Saviour and the Ex Death Eater. The press is still going off about the war, and everyone has their own ways of coping. Soon enough, they’re friends – (ok let’s pretend this is eight year) and helping each other through the bad days. And soon enough, the insults that hit closer to home for others but not them, the inside jokes, the love of Quidditch, the homework assistance – all this time around each other turns to pining. Malf-Draco, with his white-blond hair and black turtlenecks that he kept even though that was what he wore as a Death Eater. With his now self-deprecating jokes instead of hurtful insults. With his smile, that shows his sneer lines of the past. With his blue-gray eyes. With his knowing smirk when they’ve done one of their own eighth year pranks. Even with his wonky Charms and obsession with stroking the Dark Mark and the way he stops in front of the Room of Requirement every time they pass. And Harry, with his mop of untidy hair and glasses that have had Reparo used on them who knows how many times by now? With his bright green eyes, with his surprisingly pale skin, with the way he disappears into the forest every now and then, staring at the clearing where Voldemort once thought him dead. They pine, they’re oblivious, and finally, Pansy spills it to draco, an exasperated ‘will you kiss him or not’ just as Harry rounds the corner in his invisibility cloak. ‘are you stupid. Pans? We’re just friends.’ (wow ideal storyline this is a mini fic by now what am I doing with life my math sheet is like right in front of me I should be doing that). The questions, that night, in their respective beds. And the finale, with Harry rethinking ‘we’re just friends’ in his head in the final Seeker-to-seeker game, Draco leaning in.

Finally. 

Okay, squicks. Here we go. First of all, I don’t really like fics where they speak really…I don’t know, childishly? To each other eg. too many cheesy pet names (‘Hi hun,’ he giggled, taking the offered plate), since my idea of drarry is a couple that banters all the time, not one that sits around squealing at each other. That’s the main reason I ship them, after all.

Another squick, although this just annoys me more than makes me uncomfortable, is when there’s a fic involving children where the author makes their speech like that of a baby. Five year olds and younger can make legible sentences, so it’s sometimes irritating when eight-year-old Scorpius is saying ‘dada give h-h-hoog’ if you get my drift.

Daddy kink is another thing. If you like it, good for you but personally, I- *shudders* no thanks. It’s just – okay, my dad’s like over fifty, and that’s what I imagine if I think of that. Sex with my dad? I’ll pass. Calling your boyfriend your ‘daddy’? I- no no no just no I’m sorry but no.

Okay, I’ll rephrase. Most, if not all kinks make me uncomfortable – I’ve said daddy already, Parseltongue (just any other language) is just weird to me (it’s not disgusting, I just find it kind of dubious I guess.), any sort of pet play is similar if not worse than daddy kink, choking or breath play sounds more like rape (I’m crude, handle it), lingerie is just hella weird and I don’t even want to know what tentacles are, thank you very much. I’ll stick to my vanilla sex.

Any sort of sex toy/tool use is also a squick (including painful BDSM stuff), but I’m not sure if that’s kink so I’ll just add it here.

I don’t mind OOC fics, but, again, if they’re too soft (unless it’s some sort of caring angsty oneshot e.g. most of @rose-grangerweasleyisbae ‘s ones) then they most likely don’t work with me either. 

Triggers? No, I haven’t read any fics that have triggered me in any way and I’m not sure if I have any. Most are squicks.

Fics, or tropes, I guess, that I’m not interested in would include either one being some sort of Magical Creature (although there are some exceptions – some writers make really good fics with these tropes), and by that I mean any humanoid creature such as a werewolf, vampire etc. Veela especially. Also, anything with mates. (Fun fact, in my first answer that got deleted, I wrote a headcanon fic thing with draco as a bowtruckle since I said I don’t know if that’s a squick bc I’ve never read it and decided to do it for fun)      

Dunno what this is, but I’m gonna include it as well – I also don’t like fics where their entire supposedly ‘loving’ relationship is completely based on sex. I’m okay with it if they’re supposed to be fuckbuddies at that point in the relationship, but if this is what the author is calling their ‘established relationship’, I don’t really like it. 

Any fic that loses the banter after their getting together, where their world and source of happiness is completely revolving around the other – that is also one of my disinterests. As I said, I ship drarry for the sass and banter (and angst). Not the sappy love. 

I don’t really like unhealthy relationships – I read a fic where the whole reason Draco allowed Potter to date him was because he complimented his flying skills, not because he liked him. That’s a really minor example, but basically any fic without actually liking each other or as I said, an unhealthy relationship, doesn’t take my fancy. Unless, of course, they’re fixing it. 

A fic that starts somewhere in the books, eg. third year or something, don’t normally take my fancy, but, again, there is the occasional exception that I turn out to love.

Not exactly Drarry but any poly relationships with the two of them are also a disinterest – I feel like they’re the ones for each other. Dunno if this sounds polyphobic or whatever it’s called, and it probably does, but that’s not it. I just personally don’t think Drarry need another person. Other ships, maybe. Drarry? Not for me. 

Eighth year fics that are based on drinking and drinking games also aren’t my thing (omg there’s like eight million alsos here what am i doing don’t shoot me please (ok i fixed it)). I just don’t like them. 

And fics with any sort of bonding lose my interest pretty quickly, especially sexual magic bonds. Mpreg, as well, again, I’ll read the occasional fic but most of the time I don’t really like it. 

Age difference, again, are something I find strange, and I can go on for hours but this is now around three thousand words and I should stop so y’all can go read your fics lmao.

 And um I’ll give you two headcanons as my way of apologising for the unbelievably late reply

 Harry, lying on the ground, blood dripping from a massive slash in his stomach, chest barely moving, lips slightly parted, tinged red with drying blood

Malfoy, now just a colleague, they’ve lost the schoolboy animosity, hovering over him, wand casting diagnostic spells even though he knows they’re no use – he knows the curse but he doesn’t know the exact variation – and the wrong healing spell will kill the Saviour – he can’t take that chance.

‘Scared, Malfoy?’

His head jerks up, pale eyes widening at the old question thrown back at him. Shoulders slump, his lungs heaving from all he spells he’s cast

‘Yes’ 

Idk just the idea of that final admittance – yes. Idk, just, my heart, man.

Okay headcanon 2 which is more of a fic by this point (someone help me im so bad at headcanons. Like this is all fleshed out in my head but ugh)

Eighth year holidays, Draco is sitting alone at the blazing fire in the common-room, strangely enough knitting, as he talks, friendly but quiet to a surprisingly happy Moaning Myrtle (the common room is where the old bathroom was)

Hermione Jean Granger sits down next to him and he flinches, almost expecting a slap like third year – he’s had hexes from Muggleborns who had nothing to do with the war, and here’s the Saviour’s friend – of course she’s gonna –

She pulls out a massive textbook, quill, inkpot, blotting paper and three rolls of parchmment from her bag, tucks her bushy hair behind one ear, and starts scratching away

He’s surprised, but still too nervous to ask why

It becomes a habit, her sitting there there, him as well, talking to Myrtle, doing Potions work, knitting as well

They start talking to each other, he finds out she Obliviated her parents and doesn’t want to come back just yet, even though she knows the Dark Lord’s gone

She finds out he’s too scared to go home, with all the memories

They become friends of sorts, helping each other when they can

When the holidays end, there are a few double takes, but nobody really questions it. After all, it’s Hermione, she never was too against Malfoy (nobody really saw that slap) and she’s always been a rule-follower. They assume its part of Mcgonagall’s asking for peace between Slytherins and Gryffindors

I mean, Ron does complain about her hanging about the ferret nowadays and not around her boyfriend, but he gets it. Besides, their ‘sessions’, if you will, are always when there’s Quidditch practice for Harry and Ron (they help train the younger years)

So yeah, it’s not too bad (and this isn’t Dramione I promise although I do ship it occasionally)

One day, though, she brings out a bundle of knitting herself. To his surprise, she knits a single sock and puts it in a box

He asks her why

‘For Dobby’

And he remembers. He remembers the strange little house elf, the one he loved as a kid but had no way of showing it. He remembers his father’s hatred of that elf in particular He remembers scowling at the poor thing, ranting to it – it was a way of venting, but in true Malfoy-raised fashion, he’d been so cruel to it as well, laughing as it jammed its fingers in doors, encouraging its pain.

He leaves the common room early that night

Next day, the Golden Trio isn’t there. Hermione (no longer Granger) isn’t there

He knitted a single sock that morning himself. He’d heard the story from their talks. He wanted to contribute. A way of apology, if you will. If it even counted. Today’s the day the elf passed away, and Hermione had said she put a sock in there for everyone

It’s pretty obvious where they’ve gone. He Apparates there after class, and finds the grave easily. It’s got a bundle of Conjured flowers, stems wrapped around the rock that serves as a headstone, and the box of socks is right there too. (what am I doing this is meant to be a short drarry hc and I haven’t even brought potter in yet help)

He starts crying

He spent last night remembering. Remembering how even through all the pain he caused that elf, a single smile, a single ‘thanks for listening, Dobby’ would make the elf bow and weep at his feet. He remembers how cruel he was, how the elf just…took it in his stride. He remembers losing the house elf, realising Potter had stolen something else of his. He remembers

And he lets it go. He spills all of it to a gravestone, apologies and ‘I know it won’t mean anything’ and ‘I didn’t know but that’s no excuse’ and ‘you always listened, how did you always listen?’ and ‘thank you’ and most of all ‘I’m so so sorry’ stumbling over each other as he tries to explain, to finally let it out

He’s crying and sniffling and that’s making it even harder to speak but he needs to say this, even though Dobby is dead, even though he’s apologised to so many people – this is one of the few that listened to him, and he’s treated the elf like garbage.

Tears drip onto the single sock in his hands

It’s hours later when he finishes. Well, not exactly finished, but he’s said enough that he thinks he’s explained himself and said sorry – even though it’ll never be enough. He’s cast a Light Charm (not a lumos ok it’s bigger don’t correct me) and he leans over to put the now-damp sock into the box too. A final ‘I’m so sorry’ and he stands up, turns around

And comes face to face with the Golden Trio

Hermione stares at him, then grabs him in a massive hug

Ron looks at him, slightly awkwardly but at her glare, he offers a tight smile

 And Harry? (wow how long has it taken for me to get here god) is just staring. Openmouthed. Who knew Malfoy had felt this much about a house elf?

And yeah that’s the point where he realises Malfoy isn’t that bad and then they go back to Bill and Fleur’s (Hermione explains along the way that they went back to the grave bc they saw the Charm and were in shock – was Dobby back?)

‘did you hear all of it?’

‘we heard enough, Draco’

 And when they get back to Hogwarts, well, it’s slow building at first. Potions help when Hermione’s out on a date with Ron, a butterbeer in the school kitchens on a Hogsmeade weekend when they want to hide from the public but enjoy the drink

But over time, the pining and the miscommunication and Draco getting back to his (albeit weak) banter with Potter leads to one thing. You know what it is.

Drarry

You know what I’m having fun writing trashy hcs so here’s a third (although it ain’t drarry. It ain’t any ship)

Alright so there is no hairdresser at Hogwarts or Hogsmeade or anywhere near the castle (I mean it was never mentioned in the books was it so this is possibly canon)

Therefore, most kids have to use spells

But we all know that each of us probably has a haircut that is somehow slightly different to one another, and there aren’t that many hair care spells in the world let alone known by a few teachers in Hogwarts

While some kids know exact spells, others, for example, Muggleborns, just use Diffindio

I mean, it gets their hair cut, yeah? That’s pretty much all they need

Of course, Hermione knows each and every spell but let’s not get to that

And Malfoy uses his own spell and a litre of Sleekeazy every morning

But since everyone else cuts their own hair, it looks as bad as each other

And that’s why Harry wasn’t teased too much about his hair (yes, also bc he’s the Saviour bUT STILL)

That’s why Sirius had long hair and etc.

Basically none of the kids at Hogwarts really had good hair and they all looked like Halt from Ranger’s apprentice (also this one is long as heck I could’ve just said everyone uses diffindio and there’s no hairdresser why am I like this)

The Potion Master’s Grace ch. 18

Grace’s heart pounded loudly against her chest, sure that everyone in the room could hear it.    “Grace? What’s wrong?” Severus took a cautious step towards her.    She couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear anything but herself hyperventilating and her heart about to beat out of her chest, which now had a sharp-shooting pain through it. Her brain was screaming at her; not words, just really loud static and a long “Aaaahhhhh!” She shut her eyes tight and put her hands over her ears, but it didn’t stop. She also must’ve been saying, “no” over and over, but couldn’t hear herself say it, only feel her mouth moving.    “She’s having an anxiety attack,” Luna said, and instantly Severus was at her side.    He tried to pry her hands from her ears, tried to calm her down, but she kept shaking her head.    “Grace! Gracie, it’s me, please!”  he pleaded. Her legs started to give and he was the only support keeping her from crashing to the ground.    She couldn’t feel her body. It was like she was there, but wasn’t there at the same time. She was numb. All at once, her hyperventilating stopped, her brain was silent, and everything went black.

-

   Grace woke up on the couch. She was hooked up to her oxygen again and there was a cool washcloth on her forehead. It had to have been Phoebe, Severus often panicked and froze on parental instincts in these moments.    She wanted to sit up, see where everyone had gone, but her body felt so heavy. But she could hear their voices from down the hall.

-

   Inside Severus’ study, he, Phoebe, and Luna all stared at the envelope before them.    “Who’s Adina?” Phoebe asked.    “Her mother, of course,” Luna said reaching for the envelope and tearing it open.    “Luna!”    “Grace will never open it!” She read over the letter, distaste written all over her face. “Her mother is at a rehabilitation center and she’s finally allowed visitors so she wants Grace to come.” She folded the letter back up and tossed it back on the table like it burned her to touch it.    “It’s entirely up to Grace if she goes,” Severus said.    “And if she does, you’ll go with her,” Luna’s voice was stern, a tone rarely voiced by the girl.    “Shouldn’t Grace confront her alone?” Phoebe asked.    “No! After what that woman did to her? Grace will either have a mental breakdown and do something stupid, or murder Adina right there! Grace is strong, but she’s not mentally stable enough to do this alone! She needs Severus there! For once in her life, she has a damn support system and she’s put all of her reliance on him! And that’s final!��    Both adults gaped at the teenager. They’d never seen her so serious, so furious about something, it was scary. Luna was the closest one out of all three to Grace, she knew Grace’s thoughts and secrets, and the extent of what Adina had done to Grace. So they knew best not to argue, and just nodded their heads. Luna grabbed the letter and left the room. Severus looked at Phoebe, she shrugged, “Don’t look at me! She gets that from her father, her mother was chill about everything. She’s right though. You should go with Grace if she chooses to go.”    “You’d really think I’d let Gracie go all the way to Ireland alone?”    “No,” she smirked. “But, it was pretty funny seeing you cower at Luna’s yelling.”    “I did not cower.”    “You so did!! It was cute though,” she kissed him on his cheek. “Just like your face when I do that,” and she winked and walked away.    “I really wish I hated you.”    “Funny how our emotions have a way of betraying us!”

-

   Grace’s head was in Luna’s lap as she braided her hair into dozens of sections. They sat watching Netflix, only talking ever so often, but the conversations weren’t very long. It was just easier not to talk.    Of course, Luna had texted Draco what happened, who then called Grace freaking out, already having one foot out the door before Grace calmed him down and told him that she was fine and she’d see him soon. She didn't want Draco to constantly worry about her, that wasn’t fair to him.    “I’m gonna go,” Grace murmured as an episode of Doctor Who ended.    “Grace, you don’t have to.”    “No, I do. Now that she knows where I am, she won’t quit pestering me until I do. So I’ll go in person and tell her to fuck off.”    “She is a crazy bitch.”    Grace snorted, “You don’t even know the half of it. I’ll go the day after tomorrow.”    “Yeah, tomorrow we’ll do a little retail therapy.”    “I gotta get dad a phone.”    “Oh, Merlin. That should be interesting.”

-

   And it was.    “Grace, I don’t need a phone,” Severus said as he watched his daughter set it up.    “Yes, you do. What if there’s an emergency? Or… something.”    “I don’t even know how to use it!”    “Well, aren’t you glad that you have me around to get you caught up on technology? Honestly, dad, it’s the 21st century. Get with it.”    He turned to Phoebe, “Did… Was I just called old?” He turned back to Grace, “Did you just call me old? Seriously? Grace Audrey McClivert-Snape, I was twenty when you were born, okay? Dumbledore is, old. I am not.”    “Mhm,” she smirked. “Want me to make the text larger so you can read it better?”    “What happened to the sweet little Ravenclaw that barely said a word, and when she did, she was always so polite? Huh? Now you’re as snarky as- as-“    “You?” all three women said at once.    “Yes! … Oh, fuck.”    “Dad cursed! Put a Knot in the swear jar.”    “We don’t have a swear jar.”    “Really? Then, shit!”    “Okay, now we’re going to have a swear jar!”    “Here’s your phone. Have fun playing around with it!”    “Brat.”    “Okay, but your lock screen is the best thing ever.”    Somehow, Grace and Luna had managed to take a picture— or as Severus learned— “selfie,” with Cas and set it as his lock screen. Actually, there were about a hundred of these “selfies” already on his phone, how, he wasn’t sure. He smiled, “I like the cat the most.”    “Stupid cat.”    Cas meowed.

-

   Severus didn’t know of any apparition points in Northern Ireland, at least ones that were secretive enough that should he mess up, he would be safe from being noticed. But he did know of a few in England and Scotland. Originally, taking a ferry from Liverpool to Belfast sounded the easiest, and it would have been exciting because both he and Grace loved the Beatles, and they could have possibly made something fun out of the day she was dreading. But, the ferry ride was eight hours, and Grace was not having any of it. It’s not that she got sea-sick or anything, she just didn’t like the idea of being on a really big boat with lots of strangers and their cars for eight hours straight. Plus, that would mean they’d have to get up at the crack of dawn so they could be on the ferry by 5 am and arrive in Belfast a little afternoon. So, she did some research and found a much shorter ferry route from Cairnryan to Larne, which was only two hours. What was great was that they could sleep in a little longer and get on the ferry by 10:30 am and be in Larne by 12:30 pm, and then take an hour bus ride to Ballycastle and be there around the same time they would if they left from Liverpool.    Grace didn’t sleep the night before, so she spent the majority of the night staring at her walls, the ceiling, the starry night sky out her windows. Luna and Phoebe slept over, Luna staying in Grace’s room as usual, and Phoebe sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms which was actually supposed to be Luna’s room, but Luna always insisted on sharing a room with Grace, since, “That’s what teenage girls always do in the movies,” not that Grace really minded; sometimes it got rather lonely in her room, no matter how many photographs she hung up. Plus, Luna was a sleep-cuddler. Don’t judge. It’s human nature to want to cuddle.    Anyway, Grace only got about two hours of sleep. So when it was finally time to get out of bed, Luna had to practically drag her out.    Grace sat on her bed staring at her closet, shoulders hunched and arms crossed over her stomach, “I don’t know what to wear.”    Luna, stepping out of the bathroom, took her wet hair out of its towel turban and stared at her almost full walk-in closet with shopping bags full of clothes Grace still had yet to put away or hang up, “Seriously?” Grace nodded. “I hate you.”    It was chilly that day, well, chilly for the summer. It was really about 19ºC, but still. And it was bleak; it must’ve rained overnight and the sky was full of gray clouds and no sun.    “Why can’t I just wear sweats and a baggy t-shirt?” Grace groaned as she watched Luna, her fashion consultant, rummage through her wardrobe.    “Because if you dress like shit, that’s how you’ll feel. I know you don’t want to, but throw on some bright clothes, brush your hair, and put on a little makeup, and it might just help. Here, this shirt,” it was a pink and white striped tank top, “this skirt,” it was an A-line baby blue skirt that had a matching belt that tied together in the front in a bow, “your boots,” brown knee-high riding boots, “and your trench coat.”    Grace got dressed, put on some makeup, and while she may have looked cute, she still felt anxious. She checked her phone, two messages from Draco:

   Draco: I know today is going to be hard, but you’re strong. If you need anything, if you just wanna talk, I’ll be here. Just call. <3    Draco: Also, fuck her, fuck her for fucking with you like this. Punch her in the throat, baby!

   Grace smiled, Dray really was great. It was nice to feel cared for by someone that wasn’t unconditional, like Severus, or friendly, like Luna. Rather, mutual voluntary passion for someone that translated into the L-word that neither of them dared to speak yet.

   Grace: Thanks, babe. <3 Though, I want to do a lot more than just throat punch her. Hope you have bail money!    Draco: Just don’t leave any fingerprints! Can’t get arrested if no one knows.    Grace: We are terrible people.    Draco: That’s why we’re perfect for each other.

   It was all sappy, but she didn’t care. She was allowed the sappiness, she was allowed the gross romantic cliches. Dammit, she should be allowed to have a normal teenage life.

-

   Apparition sucked (no pun intended) when you were tired. It took everything out of you for a second and made functioning normally for a few moments afterward very hard. Grace just couldn’t wait until she could learn how to apparate on her own, maybe it’d be easier.    The good thing was that the ferry wasn’t too crowded. Besides, who would be taking a ferry from Cairnryan to Larne anyway? Most people just sucked it up and took the eight-hour ride to Belfast or flew. Grace mostly slept the way there, head resting on Severus’ arm.    Severus had no idea how Grace was going to react when she saw her mother. Would she panic and refuse to do so? Or would she finally snap and try to kill her? He really should’ve checked to make sure she wasn’t armed before they left. Did she bring her wand? He hoped she just wouldn’t do anything stupid.    Honestly, how would Severus act though? Severus had a certain degree of hatred for Grace’s birth parents, though his hatred for her mother wasn’t as strong as it was for her father. He was lucky he was locked up in prison because Severus would surely do something so drastic that he would find himself locked up in Azkaban. But her mother? He almost pitied her. She was in a rehabilitation center, she’d lost everything she’s ever had; she had ruined her own life.    After two hours, they finally arrived in Northern Ireland. Stepping off, Grace stopped in her tracks and just took a moment to look around. It was like a wave of nostalgia and familiarity washed over her, and she smiled. Of course, this wasn’t her home of Ballycastle. But it was close.    Fortunately, Severus and Grace had the bus to themselves, save for two other people who would eventually get off at different stops along the way. They were on the A2 Causeway Coastal route, going past steep cliffs that overlooked the ocean, uphill, downhill, so close to the edge sometimes Severus thought that the bus would tip over on a sharp turn, but Grace didn’t mind. She just gazed out the window and tapped her fingers to whatever music was playing on the radio.    “What’s your favorite Beatles song?” Grace asked.    “‘Hey Jude.’”    “Really?”    He nodded, “My mother used to sing it to me when I was little.”    “What was she like?”    “She was kind and very smart. She always tried her best to be the peacemaker and be there for me. Unfortunately, she made one mistake when she was young and that led to her demise. And I couldn’t save her,” he looked at his daughter and smiled. “She would’ve loved you though. I think she always wanted a daughter, so she would’ve spoiled you.”    “If she was anything like you, I would’ve loved her too.”    They passed the time along just like that: asking questions that would lead to stories that would lead to more questions.    “Ballycastle,” the bus driver finally called out. It was as if Grace was excited to finally see her hometown after eight years, but was paralyzed by fear in her seat.    “Grace? Are you alright?” Severus asked.    “Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah I think. Just got… lost in thought or something,” she quickly made her way off the bus; just had to get it over with it like a band-aid.    She looked around at the bright coastal town before her. Not much had changed in the eight years since she’s been gone. It still looked the same, maybe a few new coats of paint, and it still smelled like the sea. The bus pulled away and there was no turning back now.    “So this is Ballycastle,” Severus said taking it all in.    “Aye, this is Ballycastle. C’mon I’ll give you a tour,” she took Severus’ hand and started walking. They weren’t in any hurry, and they could use some walking around after being cooped up for over three hours.    Severus was sure they were getting lost, having walked around aimlessly, but Grace knew exactly where they were going. She had the whole town mapped out in her head.    “So this was my Primary school, Ballycastle Integrated Primary School, and Nursery Unit. We wore awful uniforms, baby blue collared shirts with burgundy jumpers and the girls had to wear gray skirts and knee socks in the warmer months, but when it got cold we were ‘allowed’ to wear slacks.”    “But you wear a uniform now, so what’s the difference?”    Grace smirked, “I almost never wear my uniform under my robes. Especially in the winter, I’m usually in joggers and my Uggs.”    “Grace!”    “Oi, get over it, no one wears the damn uniform unless it’s something special. Okay! Next stop!”    They continued walking, Grace occasionally pointing to random buildings:    “That’s where I fell off my bike.”    “That’s where I twisted my ankle.”    “That’s the pub he would always get drunk at after work,” referring to Mr. McClivert.    “That’s where Artie McCleod tried to kiss me in P7 so I punched him in the face and broke his nose.”    “And here’s the Diamond, known as the Heart of Ballycastle. I personally don’t think it’s shaped like a diamond, it looks more like a triangle, but apparently, it’s a diamond.”    They stood in the center of the Diamond, next to a monument that's plaque read was in memory of Dr. George Matthew O’Connor. They watched the locals pass by, going into pubs and shops. A few of them waved, and they waved back; Grace was thankful no one recognized her.    There was a group of men outside a pub playing music. No singing, just some guitars, a fiddle, a banjo, and a small drum set. Grace watched them with a smile on her face, recognizing the songs they were playing from growing up here in Northern Ireland. She tapped her foot to the music, and she caught the eye of the man playing the fiddle.    “Oi, wee lass!” he called to her.    Grace looked around for someone else he could have been talking to.    He pointed his bow at her, “Yes you!” he laughed. “With the pretty red hair!”    She blushed, “Yes sir?”    “Do ye dance?”    “Aye!”    “Well c’mere!”    She ran across the road to the band, Severus following her. He was ready to reach for his wand, but it was all under false caution.    “What’s your name, miss?”    “Grace,” she shook the man’s hand.    “Nice to meet ye, Grace. You Riverdance?”    “When I was little, but I probably still can.”    “To any music?” a man with a guitar asked.    “Probably.”    “How’s bout a challenge?”    “Aye,” she took off her coat and handed it to Severus.    “Grace-“ he started.    “It’s fine, dad. I won’t get hurt. Promise!” she flexed her ankles; this was going to be really hard in boots.    Severus sighed, leaning against the wall of the pub, watching carefully. Leave it to Grace to live completely on the edge of life when Severus just wanted to keep her in a bubble.    Grace stood in front of the band, trying to avoid the looks of passerby's, just keeping her gaze on the O’Connor monument.    The man with the fiddle started, and Grace laughed, noticing the song as Dropkick Murphy’s ‘I’m Shipping Up To Boston.”    She danced along to the music, realizing it was very, very hard to Riverdance in boots. And the tempo was fast, so it was even harder to tap and scuff along. But she was doing it, smiling and laughing along, adding a graceful flare to the otherwise hoarse song. People from the street and out of shops and the pub started to gather around the band to watch the scene. They clapped along to the music and cheered the redhead before them on.    There was a little girl in the growing crowd that tugged on her mother’s pant leg, “Look, mummy. Look at her dance. I wanna dance just like her, mummy!”    She heard a couple of high school boys whistle, “How come the hot girls never are the ones that are in our class?”    “I know, right?” the other boy said.    The music ended and Grace took a deep breath and bowed and the small crowd cheered.    A few people came up to her, as she responded in her natural nervous giggles, and complimented her. The boys tried asking for her number, but she politely declined and told them she had a boyfriend, but that she was very flattered.    “Ah, well, he’s a lucky lad then,” one of the boys said.    “Anyways, you made our day far more interesting than it was. Have a nice day, miss,” said the other, and they both waved and went on their way. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to respond to someone rejecting to give you their number!    With Grace’s little show brought more attention to the small band. They thanked Grace profusely as they were at the same time bombarded with a few requests.    “Do you live here in Ballycastle, miss?” asked the man with the fiddle.    Severus walked over and handed Grace her coat. She put it back on, the sea breeze picking up, “I used to. A long time ago.”    The two started walking towards Anne Street, when he asked, “What’s your last name?”    “Snape!” she called over her shoulder and turned the corner onto Anne. She looked up at her dad, who looked both proud and amused.    “What’s that look for?”
    “I’m just really proud of you of you, you know that right, Grace?”    She nodded as they stopped in front of Solas Moyle.    “You don’t have to do this. We can turn around and go home right now. It’s your choice,” he put a hand on her shoulder.    She shook her head, “No. It needs to be done. I need to tell her face-to-face that she doesn’t have any control over me or any emotions. Just, please stay close, okay?”    “Don’t worry, Gracie. I’m not going anywhere. Now, hand it over,” he held his hand out.    “Ugh. You’re no fun,” she pulled her wand out of her boot and handed it to him.    “And I’m not having my daughter being expelled for using magic underage out of Hogwarts,” he put her wand in the inside pocket of his coat.

-

   Solas Moyle was painted with bright colors and filled with a “cheery” staff, but its patients’ eyes were filled with misery. Grace had been in their shoes before; being in an institution where you basically had no freedom. Every part of your day was monitored and planned. You couldn’t wear certain things, have certain things in your room, or even go to the bathroom without someone standing outside the door. Each day you had to sit in a circle and talk about your feelings and how you’re doing, and then have a one-on-one and talk about the same thing, and then do group activities that you could care less about doing.    “May I help you, miss?” the woman behind the desk asked after they had been buzzed in.    “Uh, yeah. We uh… We… Adina McClivert?” Grace stumbled out; her chest felt tight.    “Oh, she’s been waiting. You must be her daughter,” the woman handed Grace and Severus visitor’s passes.    “No,” Grace said as if she had just been asked to drink poison. She put on the stupid pass and opened the stupid door into the stupid rec room. Did she mention that she thought all of this was fucking stupid?    “Relax,” Severus said noting Grace’s clenched fists. He was glad he took her wand.    “Whatever,” she shoved her hands into her pockets. She made her way over to the woman with dark red hair, just like herself.    Adina McClivert was a short, thin woman with curly, long, deep red hair. Her skin was a ghastly white, even whiter than Grace’s, and she had no freckles, unlike Grace as well. Other than that, and Adina’s brown eyes, they looked strikingly similar. That, and the obvious wear and tear years of drug abuse had on Adina’s body.    “Well I’ll be damned,” Adina said standing from her spot on the old, frumpy rec room couch. “I didn’t think you’d show.”    “Just as surprised,” Grace responded, flinching away from Adina’s arms as she tried to hug her former daughter.    “And who’s this?” she asked looking at Severus.    Before he could speak up, Grace cut in, “This is Severus Snape. He’s one of my professors at school and he’s great and he adopted me. So he’s my true family now.” Her scowl towards Adina transitioned to admiration when she shot a glance towards her dad.    “Pleasure to meet you, Severus.”    “Likewise,” his voice was laced with venom as she shook her hand as he had nothing but resentment for the woman.    Grace smirked at Adina’s slight reaction to Severus’ overwhelming aura of absolute hatred.    “Well, please, sit,” Adina gestured at another couch, exactly like the one adjacent. The two of them sat, Grace, letting out a huff as she took her hands out of her pockets and crossed her arms. She looked at the woman sitting across from her; she looked sickly, her body was covered in track marks that had barely faded against her pale skin, and those teeth were probably fake as well. It was nice to see Karma had done her part on Grace’s mother, no matter in what form it was. Grace hoped her father was doing just as bad rotting in prison.    “So, tell me about this special Wizarding school you go to, Grace. I always knew you were special. Always making strange things happen when you were little.”    Grace narrowed her eyes, “Are you stalking me now?”    She shook her head, “No. Well, maybe a wee bit. I called up your last foster family, The Nobles. They filled me in and told me where I could find you.”    “Remind me to hex them,” Grace mumbled loud enough for Severus to hear.    “Is it really wise to be speaking openly about magic in public?” he asked.    “With what everyone here talks about on a daily basis and the shite they see?”    Severus shrugged, Fair enough.    Adina turned back to Grace, “And of course I’ve been keeping up on all of your achievements here in our world. Figure skating competitions, dance recitals, violin and piano recitals; that’s all stuff anyone can look up on Google, dear.”    Grace rolled her eyes, “Well I had to give all of that stuff up on behalf of attending Hogwarts because I simply don’t have the time, but I still enjoy it. But I’ve found other stuff to do at my new school.”    “Such as?”    “I play Quidditch. It’s… It’s quite hard to explain, but my position is pretty important.”    “And are you doing well in your classes?”    “A bit too well. I think I annoy the teachers sometimes,” she smirked at Severus.    “Nobody likes a know-it-all, Grace Audrey.”    “Audrey? Whatever happened to Grace Adina?” the older woman raised a brow.    “I changed that shit as soon as I entered the foster system. Like I’d want to have anything that reminded me of you,” Grace glared at the woman in front of her. Severus bit his tongue to correct Grace on her language and attitude but then he realized, This woman deserves everything that’s gonna be handed to her.    “Now, now, Gracie. Watch your tongue.”    “Who are you to tell me what to do? Who are you to think you have any control over me? You were the one who was too high to protect me from him when I was seven-years-old! If you had any love for me, you wouldn’t have shot up! You were supposed to be there to stop him, to do something! And you could’ve cared less about me! You cared more about your fucking drugs!”    Severus looked around the rec room and noticed that not just one light was flickering, but they all were starting to erratically flicker. They flickered faster as Grace’s voice got louder. Uh-oh.    Adina narrowed her eyes, “That’s no way to talk to your moth-“    “You are not my mother!” Grace stood up, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white, and in an instant, the lights in the room got extremely bright and with a pop, the room went dark. Grace flinched and covered her ears at the loud pop, unaware she was the one who caused it.    Before the patients could start a commotion, one of the staff flipped the breaker, turning the lights back on.    “Okay, I think we’re done here,” Severus stood, taking Grace by the arm and pulling her away from a terrified Adina.    Before they left, Grace called over her shoulder her final words to her former mother, “And leave me the hell alone, or I swear to god I’ll-“ she didn’t get finish before Severus pulled her out the door.

-

   Once outside, Grace’s emotions finally washed over her; her eyes were full of tears and she was bloody pissed. She went over to a narrow alley across the street and punched a wall. “Fuck!” she yelled clutching her hand.    Severus ran over to her, “Now why would you think that’d be a good idea?”    “I don’t know! I just needed to punch something and- ugh! That bloody hurt!”    “Well, yeah, you punched a brick wall, She-Hulk!”    Grace took a few deep breaths and wiped her tears, “I’m sorry.”    “For? The wall doesn’t have feelings, Gracie,” he was trying his best to get her to laugh.    “No, for- for in there.”    “Grace, don’t you dare apologize.”    “But-“    “Grace,” he pulled her into a hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Although, you’ll have to learn how to control your emotions better. Surprised you didn’t blow up the whole building.”    “Huh?” she looked up at her dad, confused.    “You blew the circuit in there.”    “Wait, that was me?”    “Yes, you honestly didn't know that?”    “No! That’s so cool! I’m like, a superhero or something. Miss… Electric! No… Electric Shock? Nah, I think that one is taken.”    Severus rolled his eyes, at least she was smiling again.    “Ooh! Before we leave, I wanna show you something!” she grabbed Severus’ hand and started leading the way.

-

   When Severus thought “something,” he thought maybe a park or a monument. Not a bloody path that led to a treacherous rope bridge to a tiny island! First of all, he was pretty sure they were trespassing.    “It's closed. Weather isn’t good enough today. I used to come here all the time when I was little,” she said as she jumped the fence.    “Grace, no.”    “Grace, yes. Now c’mon! Hop it!”    “If we get arrested, I’m not paying for your bail,” he said as he reluctantly hopped the fence.    And then the rope bridge. He was going to kill Grace. She went first, and about halfway over, because she thinks she’s bloody funny, started shifting her weight, making the bridge sway.    “Grace Audrey McClivert-Snape!”    And she just kept laughing her ass off. Yup, he was going to kill her.    Finally, they got across, “Welcome to Carrick-A-Rede Island!”    Severus looked around, there was only a single building on the small island and it was surrounded by the sea and Ireland’s Cliffs. “It is pretty amazing.”    “Right?” she walked over to the edge, breathing in the sea breeze. She sat down, legs hanging off of the edge. She looked over her shoulder to her dad and patted the grass next to her, “I promise the edge isn’t gonna break off.”    “I swear, Grace…” but he sat next to her anyway.    “Thank you for coming today.”    “You don’t have to face everything on your own, Grace,” he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to, at least.”    “Thank you. It really does mean a lot… Hey, speaking of not being alone, when are you going to tell Phoebe how you feel?”    “What?” Severus asked, trying to sound oblivious.    “Dad, it’s obvious you like Phoebe. Perhaps even love her. You need to tell her before she goes back to New York. The Universe is giving you a second chance and if you don’t take it now, then she’s never going to come back!”    He knew she was right, he just didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to admit that he was indeed in love with Phoebe. “Shut up, Grace.” But she just smirked, knowing she was right all along.

-

   Severus was able to find an apparition point to return home to Snape Manor. Grace was emotionally exhausted, and all she could do was say goodnight to everyone before heading upstairs to her room. But something was blocking her door. When she finally got the door open enough to squeeze through, she gasped; her room was full of dozens of sunflowers.    On her bed was a note, next to Cas who was rather enjoying himself playing with the flowers. The note read: “Sorry today was awful, but I thought you could use something to brighten your gray day. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around seven. Love, Draco.”    She smiled wide, holding the note to her chest, her heart swelled. She loved that boy.