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thelashjedi · 1 year

Text

you’re safe with me

Dramione | Completed | 4.7K words

Also available on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43323165

As quietly as possibly, Hermione crept inside the library at Malfoy Manor. It was as good a place as any for to catch her metaphorical breath, before she’d need to plaster on a fake smile and rejoin the ball — to keep up appearances. Maybe she could find the book on the origins of arithmancy Draco mentioned the last time they were here? Hermione doubted she’d be back at the Manor any time soon, if ever. Not after this evening has gone exactly as she’d feared, To her great surprise, despite her fraught wartime history, the Manor had somehow become one of her favourite places in the world, with the exception of one permanently sealed drawing room. But alas, Malfoy Manor had once again become ground too dangerous for Hermione Granger to tread, though this time the reasons for it were vastly different.

Hermione idly fiddled with her beaded bag, wondering if the Malfoys would even notice if just one of their many books went missing for a bit. Probably not. She would return it later by owl, of course.

Making her way to her favourite spot in the back corner, Hermione was surprised to find Draco Malfoy collapsed in one of the wing-backed chairs, a hand wearily rubbing his eyes, the other gripped tightly around an empty glass, notes of firewhisky lingering in the air. He hadn’t noticed her.

Recovering as best she could in the circumstance, Hermione deliberately kept her voice light. “Malfoy? Why on Earth are you hiding in the library? This is your Engagement Ball. Shouldn’t you be out there accepting the fawning praise of the Sacred Twenty-Eight for doing your part to keep the Malfoy family tree as devoid of branches as possible?”

Her voice startled him, causing Draco to look momentarily panicked. Though he regained his customary smirk so quickly, perhaps it was only her imagination. Or a trick of the dim light.

“Ha, Granger. Very droll. As a point of clarification, this is my Betrothal Ball, nothing to do with an engagement. And secondly —“ Draco sighed deeply. “Fuck. I just need a break from it all, you know?”

Hermione blinked. She knew. After all, that’s precisely why she was here, but it was conveying to see Draco struggling when he ought to be celebrating the ostensibly happy news. “I do. And you’re safe with me, Auror Malfoy. As always.”

Her partner made a non-committal noise, as he put his empty glass on the side table. The reality of her presence caught up with him and his gaze sharpened. “Why are you here, Granger?”

Hermione laughed softly, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with him, full stop and she especially did not want to have it now. “Well, Ron’s not accepting the end of our relationship as well as I’d hoped. He’s out their hitting the champagne pretty hard, whilst making eyes at me. Seemed like a good idea to hide out for a bit.”

Technically, everything she’d said was true, but only to a point. It was Hermione’s own inability to stop staring at the future bride’s left hand that prompted her to seek refuge somewhere else. If Ron had been her only issue, she could have drawn on a wealth of experience to simply endure it. But being forced to confront the reality of a future where she would never get what — who — she wanted? That proved to be too much.

Draco snorted. “Really, Grange — the library? It’s your natural habitat. If you wanted to hide almost anywhere else in the Manor would be better than — wait. Did you say the end of your relationship?”

Briefly wondering how much firewhisky he’d had, Hermione plastered that bloody fake smile back on, responding in a falsely bright tone. “Um, yes. Ron and I broke up.”

It was Draco’s turn to blink. He sat silently for a moment, his thinking face — the one he adopted when they were working on a case together — firmly in place. Then he rose from his chair, standing before her, his eyes boring into her own. “When?”

Hermione tried — and bloody failed — to sound breezy. “Oh, late last month.”

Malfoy Heir to wed Miss Astoria Greengrass.

The headline in the Daily Prophet, accompanied by a photo of Draco next to a smiling, beautiful, perfect pureblood witch screamed at Hermione from the front page. She felt as though all the air left her flat, leaving her underwater, unable to her breathe as her carefully crafted illusions about her own feelings disappeared into the ether the very instant she realised she was too late. It was only then Hermione registered just how deeply she was in denial over the extent of feelings for the pale wizard who was definitely not just her co-worker, no matter how many times she’d angrily shouted at otherwise at Ron.

Draco’s expression was inscrutable as he studied her face. “Before or after my betrothal was announced?”

The question was so prescient Hermione did not have her features schooled enough to prevent her jaw from dropping a fraction. She made a hasty correction, though Draco’s narrowed eyes told her she wasn’t quick enough, blast him. “What? That’s not — Malfoy. That has nothing to do —”

“Granger.” Her name was an interruption and a plea.

Unable to pretend any longer, Hermione sighed. “After.”

“Why?” Draco asked in a pained whisper.

“Ron and I were never right for each other — okay? Not really. But when my close friend and partner getting engaged sent me into an emotional tailspin, it really didn’t seem fair to Ron to keep pretending otherwise. Not after assuring him for years I only admired you as a colleague, because we got along so well and we had such a good working relationship.” Keeping her gaze on her shoes, Hermione blinked back tears. “To be fair, I didn’t realise I was lying to him until it was too late.”

Draco’s bitter laugh prompted her to look up and she took in the stunned disbelief in his grey eyes, as well as the undercurrent of anger. Her heart broke just a little bit more.

Hermione swallowed. “I don’t find this particularly funny, Draco. And I think I should just go home.”

“Oh no you don’t, Granger. “ Draco grabbed her wrist, pulling her close as he pressed her hand over his heart, his eyes blazing into hers. “I only agreed to this damned betrothal because you were still bafflingly with that unworthy tosser and I couldn’t bear to continually hope you’d eventually see that he wasn’t right for you. That you’d eventually see me.”

Hermione blinked back tears, unsuccessfully trying to pull away from Draco’s grip, overwhelmed by his intensity and nearness. “I always saw you, Draco. But I never thought you’d see me as anything more than what we already were.” Unable to look at him, she used her free hands to point in the direction of the ballroom, where his betrothed was currently holding court and Draco flinched, dropping her hand. Summoning her resolve, Hermione spoke again, the words like ash on her tongue. “Given our inability to effectively communicate,I will be requesting to be transferred out of Magical Law Enforcement. The Unspeakables still try to recruit me a couple of times a year — I’ll see if I can move there.”

“No.” He looked stricken, his voice pa whisper as he shook his head.

Hermione’s voice broke. “Draco, working with you the past three years has been hard enough. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing it now.”

“You think it’s been hard for you? I’ve watched the only witch I’ve ever loved be with someone who takes her for granted, does not appreciate her and has the unmitigated gall to incessantly complain about her to me whenever I’ve been forced to speak with him.”

“Ron was likely trying to convince you I wasn’t a very good girlfriend because he was jealous of us — of our working relationship, I mean. We fought about it constantly, Malfoy.”

“And his way of coping was to try to diminish you at every opportunity?”

“Oh lay off of him, Malfoy! He’s not the one who spent the entire time being in love with someone else.”

Draco’s mouth was on hers before the last syllable left her lips, quickly swallowing her startled gasp. One hand cradled her chin as the other pulled her hips flush against his and Hermione whimpered, losing herself in the feel of his tongue gliding against hers as her body pressed into him. Her blood sang as she grabbed fistfuls of his robe, desperate to pull him closer still — the years of unspoken, mutual longing becoming thoroughly unmasked with the worst fucking timing. She stiffened, as she recalled why she was at the Manor in the first place.

As if hit with the same realisation, Draco abruptly let her go. She instantly stepped back — keeping more than an arm’s width away as they stared at each other, panting.

Draco spoke first, his words full of quiet desperation. “I can get out of it, Granger. If you’ll have me.”

Hermione’s heart clenched. “I feel really bad about that for her sake, but not so bad I’m willing for us both to be perpetually miserable over it. I was having a hard enough time when I thought it was just me. How badly will your parents react?”

As far as Hermione was concerned, this was an open question. Over the past few years, she’d become far closer to the Malfoys than she would’ve ever dreamed possible. Narcissa was quite fond of her, frequently insisting they take tea together — just the two of them as Draco was deliberately not invited. She ate dinner with the family once or twice a month. While it took longer for Lucius to come around on her, he had reluctantly admitted she was just as talented and capable as his son, even though it clearly pained him to say the words aloud. Hermione harboured secret affection for the still somewhat vainglorious older man— particularly after l realising he was too much like his son for her to ever truly dislike. But the elder Malfoys acceptance of her was in her role as Draco’s partner at the DMLE — a role where she frequently saved his life. There was an enormous gulf between accepting Muggle-born Hermione Granger as their son’s colleague or even close friend, and accepting Muggle-born Hermione Granger permanently into their family, particularly when such acceptance would ultimately end the Malfoy family’s status as a purebloods.

It had not been lost on Hermione that outwardly both of Draco’s parents appeared delighted at the prospect of Astoria Greengrass becoming the future Lady Malfoy — something that hurt Hermione more than she’d expected, even when she has no right to that pain.

“I do not fucking care.” Draco’s voice was iron. “And for what it’s worth, this is a love match for Astoria either. It’s a business arrangement made by our respective families. I’m not saying she’ll be happy about it. But I won’t be breaking anyone’s heart.”

Oh. That was a relief. Hermione chewed her lip. “How long?”

“Tomorrow — by the end of day. I’d do it tonight, but that seems unnecessarily cruel.”

“Right.” Hermione thought quickly, her mind still reeling from the kiss and the fact she’d just admitted out loud she loved him. Although assuming she hadn’t misheard, Draco technically declared his love first. “I’m going home and I will stay there for the rest of the weekend. My floo will be closed to everyone who isn’t you. If I don’t hear from you by Sunday, I will put in my transfer request at the Ministry on Monday morning.”

“You will hear from me, Granger. You have my word. I intend to tell my parents tonight.”

“Tell her first.” Hermione blurted out the words before she could stop herself, apprehension working its way up her spine.

Draco was nonplussed. “Why? Honestly, Granger, as I said the entire thing was arranged by our parents anyway. They’ll have to be involved.”

“Tell her first and have someone else you trust — like Theo — with you when you tell your parents.”

“Hermione, I don’t —“

Her fears overtook her and she cut him off. “Every time your parents have invited me to dinner over the past six months, Lucius has been unsubtle in telling me he expects you to wed soon. Then at the office, you’ve been telling me about how much they were pressuring you into accepting a betrothal arrangement that you said you didn’t want. I’m not accusing him of anything, truly — but while I can most likely live with you deciding to proceed with your existing betrothal, not without some assurance it was your decision in truth.”

Draco’s eyes went wide as he grasped her meaning. “Point taken. I don’t think Father would do that, Granger. But I also don’t feel certain enough to say he’d never do it. So some precautions wouldn’t hurt. I’ll speak with Theo before he leaves tonight.” Draco tucked a curl behind her ear as he spoke, before leaning forward — clearly intent on kissing her again, stopping when he felt her hand pushing him back.

“Draco, I feel enough guilt over the earlier admittedly bloody amazing kiss, especially seeing how your Betrothal Ball is still on-going as we speak. To say nothing of how bad I feel about the emotional affair I didn’t quite realise I was having while still with Ron.”

Hermione had already been tempted to beg him to shag her against the bookshelves during visits to this part of the library. And that was while she was still trying to convince herself constantly thinking about the wizard before her was merely an idle fantasy that wasn’t hurting anyone. She had no confidence in her ability to resist sharing that desire if he kissed her like that again. “I’m going to leave now, before I do more things I regret. But I expect I to see you soon, Malfoy.”

“You will, Granger. I promise.”

Seized by hope and terror in equal measure, Hermione nodded, managing a small smile before apparating out of the Manor and into her tiny, darkened flat. Only then did she allow the floodgates to open, sliding to the floor as she wept, not even attempting to sort out which of her tangled emotions prompted the tears.

——————————————————————————————

When her floo roared to life the next evening, Hermione’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. Instinctively hiding her chewed nails, she frantically tamped down the blossoming surge of hope inside her before she has unambiguous confirmation from Draco. What if he was only coming over to let her know in person that he’d reconsidered?

So when Draco strode directly towards her from the fireplace and kissed as intensely as he had the night before, her soul cried out in relief. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, frantically pulling him, needing him as close as possible.

After a long moment, he pulled back to look at her, palpable relief etched across Draco’s own features as he stroked her back. Seemed as though he’d also worried she might reconsider.

“It’s done. Everyone knows. The Greengrasses are not happy, but as it turns out, Astoria wasn’t particularly upset. Especially not after I insisted the settlement for breaking the betrothal go to her and not her parents. Seems like she prefers independence over a marriage to me in any event.”

Well there was an unexpected balm for her conscience, but Hermione didn’t really care about Astoria Greengrass, not that she relished the thought of the witch being hurt. But she didn’t know the witch.

Narcissa and Lucius were another story. They’d become dear to her and she was terrified about what their reactions might be. “And your parents?” she asked, unable to hid her nervousness.

So she was taken aback when Draco’s eyes lit up with joy. He coughed, attempting — poorly — to hide a smirk. “About that. I have a letter for you from my father.”

Her nerves were stil on high alert as she opened the sealed parchment with trembling hands, frowning as she took in Draco’s poorly concealed grin.

My dear Miss Granger,

You wound me. After my concerted effort to welcome you into my ancestral home and indeed into our lives, you truly believe me to be capable of acting against my son’s wishes in matters of the heart? For shame, Miss Granger. For shame.

Since my efforts on this front also managed to escape my son’s notice, I will spell it out plainly for you here, just as I had to for Draco in person. I told you I expected my son to wed soon for the very same reason I told him he must either make his own choice or accept a betrothal from his parents. Namely, so you foolish children would realise you are perfect for each other and act accordingly!

Do not misunderstand me. Astoria Greengrass is a fine witch and she has left Malfoy Manor with more galleons than her parents would have ever deigned to give her and my heartfelt felicitations. But Miss Granger had the match proceeded, she would have been a consolation prize to more than just Draco.

My dear, after seeing first-hand the lamentable consequences of attempts to force my choices on Draco, I want nothing more than for you to marry my son and make him happy, as I (ahem) was always aware that you are in fact, his choice. I have loved none but my dearest Narcissia, but that is only because the fates smiled on me when I did not deserve it. Draco, however, deserves the world. Seeing as you are his world, I was compelled to act to see him happily settled with you at his side, permanently.

(As an aside, I think it uncouth for me to point out that no one — such as yourself — worthy of a Malfoy ought to be saddled with a Weasley. Further, I fear it would also be uncouth for me to discuss how often I pondered why a witch happy in her ‘relationship’ would spend so much of her limited free time in the home of her ‘colleague’ dining with his parents — occasionally doing so even when my son was unavailable, and Narcissa and I were blessed to have you all to ourselves. One might forgive me for assuming it meant you enjoyed our company. But I digress and as I do not wish to be uncouth, I will say neither of those things.)

While I must confess that your doubt has caused me some genuine hurt, in truth it is only a small injury to my pride and this letter is perhaps more harsh than the injury itself justifies. Narcissa and I are overjoyed the pair of you have finally, as I understand Muggles say, “gotten your shite together” and I expect (and in truth demand) to see even more of you at the Manor than we have in the past. All of the denizens of Malfoy Manor have missed you terribly over the past month — with Bunny left especially bereft by your absence. (In time, I hope you can forgive yourself for hurting a house elf. If it helps, I do not believe she intends to hold a grudge.)

For the sake of moving forward as a family, I will admit that given my history, your caution to Draco that he ought to involve Theo when telling us of his intentions was wise. One might even go so far as to describe it as a cunning choice on your part. (You know my dear, despite how often you claim your hat-stall was between those abominable do-gooders and Ravenclaw, your evasiveness on questioning has led me to wonder if Slytherin actually had the next best claim on you. If you confess this to me, all will be forgiven and I will forget you ever suspected me capable of treachery when in truth I only had the very best of fatherly intentions towards you both.)

I expect to see you both at the Manor soon. We intend to proceed with wedding planning, far more joyously now the correct bride is in place. (Narcissa tells me it would not be appropriate to have a second betrothal ball and was not swayed in the slightest when I pointed out it would actually be the first ever Malfoy Engagement Ball. I do hope your heart wasn’t set on that my dear, as I have reluctantly acceded my wife’s better judgement in this regard.) I have instructed my son to ask you himself properly, in the Muggle fashion. The ring belonged to my mother, who would have adored you had she lived in a world where meeting you was possible. Do not fret about the heirloom, it suits you — just as you are.

By now, Miss Granger, I hope you realise you have stolen the hearts of all the Malfoys. Please take care with them — for though we have a well-earned reputation for ferocity in most matters, our hearts are unaccustomed to the fray and thus, more fragile than you might expect. If it helps, pretend we are similar to house elves and treat us accordingly. (Of course, except for the time you ignored Bunny for a month. None of us could withstand such cruelty from a loved one.)

Narcissa and I love our son very much, and while he is in no way deficient, I must confess we always longed for a daughter. We are waiting for you, my dear. And please be merciful with Draco — as the cleverest among us, he was the first to recognize your true worth and has therefore been waiting for you the longest.

With great love and affection,

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy

P.S., Turn around.

Feeling dazed, Hermione did as the letter bade. She was at turns bewildered, amused, mildly irritated and deeply touched by the words written by Lucius Malfoy. So utterly engrossed by the parchment in her hands, that Hermione hadn’t noticed Draco getting down on one knee.

He held out a ring — a simple one by Malfoy standards. A reasonably sized emerald, set with smaller diamonds on either side. Lucius was right, it did suit her — far better than the ridiculously enormous diamond which had graced Astoria’s finger the night before, a ring Hermione simultaneously loathed and deeply coveted.

Over the years, she had witnessed Draco in all manner of precarious situations. Their line of work was dangerous and as partners they had been frequently been in peril together. She was struck by how odd it was — to see fear on his face for first time since she’d acceded to Robards unenthusiastic plea for her to accept Draco as her partner, a request only made after the rest of the department had already refused. Strange to realized she could be the one provoke that fear, especially when she loved him so.

Draco exhaled before speaking, his voice clear as his eyes never left hers. “Hermione. If this feels too sudden, I’ll tell Father he can go hang and I will wait until you are ready. But you should know I’m not asking because he or Mother or anyone else wants me to. I want to, Granger — me. I want to know you are finally mine. In fact, I want the whole world to know you are mine. Because you — Hermione Jean Granger — you and no one else, are my choice. Now and always.”

Hermine bit her lip, nodding at him as tears slid freely down her cheeks — waiting.

Draco’s anxiety disappeared and his eyes filled with tears as well as the most beautiful smile she’d ever witnessed graced his face. “Hermione, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Of course I will, yes.”

She would have said more, but she was back in Draco’s embrace too quickly and her ability to speak was hindered for a long time thereafter — not that she was complaining. When they finally separated, clothing in disarray and ring on her finger, Hermione took a few minutes to respond to her future father-in-law. After she sent off her owl, Hermone dragged her fiancee into her bedroom without a word — not that he had any complaints either.

Once there, Draco set upon her like a man possessed, quickly divesting her of everything that wasn’t her engagement ring as he explained in detail exactly how he intended to fulfil every fantasy he had about her over the past three years. Seeing howthey were more or less the same fantasies Hermione had about him, she was more than happy to oblige.

Happy coincidence, that.

——————————————————————————————

Lucius Malfoy sat in his study at Malfoy Manor, immensely pleased with himself for finally getting his oblivious children on the right path. He was in the midst of his second self-congratulatory glass of firewhisky when an unfamiliar owl interrupted his reverie.Lucius’s curiosity already piqued and it only l grew on further inspection, when he discovered the letter was charmed so it could only be opened and read by himself. Quickly confirming there were no dark spells at play, Lucius opened the envelope and began to read.

My Dearest Lucius,

If you don’t irrevocably and unequivocally forgive me for my unintentional slight to you (as well as promise to never bring the matter up again in the future) I will convince Draco to elope with me within the month. Further, I will — with copious tears in my eyes — tell Narcissa that your letter is what pushed me to do so, thus laying the blame for depriving her of the opportunity to throw us a lavish wedding squarely at your feet.

However, should you graciously accept my terms without fuss (ahem), not only will I enthusiastically allow Narcissa to plan our wedding, I promise on the occasion of our tenth wedding anniversary I will tell you the unabridged version of my initial encounter with the sorting hat. Between us both, I do not think you will be disappointed by the tale.

Choose wisely.

Affectionately,

The Future Mrs. Hermione Granger-Malfoy

P.S.

I look forward to receiving your reply by the end of business on Friday; failing which, I will be forced to put my alternative plans in motion.

P.P.S.

Having said that, please do not feel like you have to rush your decision on my account. For the next few days at least, Draco and I expect to be quite preoccupied.

P.P.P.S.

I love you too.

The very instant Lucius read the last word, Miss Granger’s letter burst into flame, vanishing in a puff of smoke which destroyed all evidence of her affectionate threats. No one was present to witness it, but the brief light from the fire illuminated an actual grin on the face of Lord Malfoy, the likes of which was only rarely seen by his wife.

Lucius chuckled as he brought the firewhisky to his lips and took a hearty sip from the tumbler. Hermione Granger was going to fit in here beautifully.

He fervently hoped any future grandchildren would have curls.

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dramioneasks · 6 months

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Hi! I really enjoyed reading memento vivere after seeing it here. When I went to find similar things to it through the hermione: illness tag only a handful popped up so maybe I’m looking in the wrong place. I enjoyed that hermione and Draco’s relationship is tentative, that she sought him out for help, and he’s the one to be healing her, but I also liked that they’re squirreled away from her friends for a while without it really being anti- anyone despite her relationship with Ron falling out. The presence of narcissa and Theodore nott are an awesome bonus, too. Could you recommend something similar or point me to a tag that would help me find one please?

Try these:

Regression - WritexAboutxMe - E, WIP - re·gres·sion: return to a former or less developed state. 16 years have passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and the Wizarding world has gained some semblance of peace. Draco Malfoy is no longer the hot-headed boy he was during the war, but has matured and faced his dark past. However, Draco’s growth is tested when occult-like murders rock the DMLE and he is asked to return to England to assist in solving them. Hermione Granger is still haunted by the ghosts of her past. She works for the DMLE as a rune and ward specialist, but she harbors resentment towards the Ministry of Magic for its lack of progress following Voldemort’s defeat. What happens when Draco and Hermione are assigned as partners to solve the murders? Will they be able to place their differences aside and catch the culprit before another Dark Lord emerges?

Haunted, Hollow, Hopeful, Cursed - HoneyOvercast - M, 56 chapters, Words: 267,306 - “Pansy, I’m still not seeing what this has to do with me. You all clearly know more about the curse than I do. So what could I…” “Granger…” Pansy interrupted. “We need you because aside from Astoria, who is worsening with time…” Pansy had to take a breath and steel herself at the words before she could continue. Astoria gave Pansy a brief nod and squeeze of the hand. “You’re the only person who has ever survived it.”

Ceremonials Chapter 2: Your Heart Is the Only Place That I Call Home - HeyJude19 - E - no summary.

Necessary Evil By: CourtingInsanity - M, 32 chapters - Hermione Granger is a case worker for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Draco Malfoy has just been released from Azkaban nearly five years since the end of the Final Battle. Throw in a vindictive boss, an ailing mother and a common goal, and you’ve got a recipe for a slow burn Dramione. Rated M for later chapters.

House Elves, Office Etiquette, and the Other Indifferences of Draco Malfoy - kale0914 - M, 26 chapters - With a bit of luck (and blackmail) Hermione has become the youngest department head at the ministry. Her dreams of house elf equality would be coming to fruition- if it weren’t for the mysterious disappearances, stolen artifacts, and even darker discoveries. To Hermione’s great displeasure, she must enlist the help of the only available auror. He’s impolite, unprofessional, and entirely indifferent to her cause. Can they put their differences aside, or will Draco Malfoy live up to his reputation?

Bone Mortar by mightbewriting - M, 6 chapters - Draco clenched his teeth, forcing sharp, shallow breaths through his nose as he ripped open the door to his usual lecture hall only to find—someone at his desk. Well, he supposed it was technically less his desk and more the desk as he didn’t actually own this particular classroom. But since he’d taught in it for the last four semesters he at least felt like he’d earned a sort of common law ownership. The woman—presently possessed by what looked like a semi-sentient mass of curls atop her head—looked up, eyes widening before she graced the space between them with a kind smile that could cut through any density of grit or dust or grime. The sort of simple smile that could pulverize rocks: be them buried in the earth or caged behind ribs. He stared at her, belatedly and painfully aware that his mouth had curled into a sneer mostly without his consent. [In which two otherwise intelligent and dignified people fight over a classroom and realize they are very, very into each other.]

A Dangerous Collection - Lia_Redrose - E, 34 chapters, Words: 208,277 - Eight years after Voldemort's defeat, Draco Malfoy has left England for good. He has become a potioneer and works in a Potion Shop in Florence. He thinks he has done with the past, until one day a famous girl with messy curls and curious eyes storms inside and asks for a cure. The words and the newborn smile died as the woman turned to face him. Her mouth opened and her facial features became confused and astonished. “Malfoy?” There were surely some deities - three at least - that hated him and conjured for that to happen, because there was no other explanation to what was happening to him. It was a catastrophe. A catastrophe Draco couldn’t escape unless he bolted out of the shop to never come back again, which was something he couldn’t do. That’s why he cleared his throat and proceeded to greet his customer with a simple and clear “Granger.”

The Assignment - Nightbloom7 - E, 17 chapters - Cursed objects are causing death and destruction. When the objects themselves are found to hold no trace of Dark Magic, the Department of Magical Artefacts is stumped. Draco Malfoy leant back in his chair and crossed his arms in bafflement. “And your professional assessment is that the best way of gathering evidence is sending Granger and I together to a sex club?” “Worried about your reputation, Malfoy?” Hermione asked flatly. He scoffed. “Hardly. If I were outed for going to an expensive parisian sex den it would be considered very much on brand.” "That’s why it’s so important we’re believable as a couple. We should talk about touching,” Hermione insisted. "Touching,” Draco repeated, alarm bells going off in his mind. "As in how much of it you’re okay with, where…" "Casual touching,“ he nodded. "But also, passionate touching,” Granger pressed. Merlin’s beard. Draco was quickly coming to the realisation that he was likely to regret this.

-Lisa

#anonymous #forced partnership #mystery

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xo-gossipwitch · 2 years

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Astoria, Draco, Blaise and Pansy forgot Theo’s birthday. He did not look unhappy as he clutched a beautifully wrapped box and a card signed by D Greengrass. Must have been some gift judging by his smile.

Friends don't let friends celebrate their birthdays alone. Thankfully for Theo, Daphne didn't forget - even when her entire world was falling apart.

Priorities.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch

"You didn't have to get me anything," Theo said, sitting beside Daphne on the rock next to the Black Lake. "Just spending time with you would have been more than enough."

"I know I didn't," Daphne replied, crossing her legs out in front of her as she watched Theo investigate outside the present she had handed him. "You didn't need to take care of me through this whole ordeal. So technically, it's a thank you present instead of a birthday present."

Theo rolled his eyes, laughing as he pulled at the bow. "So a thank you gift that I just happen to be getting on my birthday?"

"Exactly," Daphne replied, laughing as she nodded her head. "It's nothing special, and I had to settle for something from Hogsmeade. Mum wouldn't let me leave the house while I was away."

Theo reached over and wrapped his arm around Daphne's shoulders, pulling her into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm just glad you're okay. You scared the hell out of me."

"I'm sorry," Daphne said, hanging her head. "I promise I wasn't doing it on purpose. I just wish I knew what went wrong."

"The mediwitch didn't tell you?" Theo asked, furrowing his brow.

Daphne shook her head and took a deep breath. "No, they could tell me I had a miscarriage, but that was it. Apparently, it can happen to anyone, and I just got lucky, I guess."

"I'm the lucky one," Theo said. He reached out and cupped her cheek with his free hand, lifting her chin. He brushed his thumb against her cheek and leaned toward her. He pressed his lips to hers gently, tentatively at first. He smiled when he felt her relax against him, parting her lips and encouraging him to deepen the kiss.

They remained there for a few moments. Daphne was the first to pull away; a blush painted her cheeks as a smile pulled at her lips. She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear with one hand and picked up Theo's present with the other. Pushing it into his lap, Daphne insisted that he finish opening it.

Theo pulled at the tie, allowing it to fall onto his lip as the paper started to fall open; inside was a notebook with his initials inscribed on the cover in silver with a beautiful quill that matched the binding. He paused, staring at the notebook for a few moments before lifting his eyes to meet hers. There was a sparkle in Daphne's eyes, and the smile on her face beamed brighter than Theo had seen in weeks.

"It's beautiful," Theo whispered, running his thumb along the leather, amazed at how soft it felt in his hands. "Thank you."

"Take a look inside," Daphne said, nodding her head toward the book. Her heartbeat was racing as she took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

Theo raised an eyebrow at her as he lifted the book's front cover, catching sight of Daphne's penmanship, inking the first page appearing magically on the page.

I found you without looking and love you without trying.

-Mark Anthony

Thank you for being everything I never knew I needed.

-D

"I've got a matching one with my initials on the front if you want to add something," Daphne said, carding a hand through her hair nervously as she waited for a response. "You don't have-"

"Hand it over," Theo demanded, extending a hand to rest, palm up in her lap.

A smile pulled at her lips as she reached for her bag, extracting her notebook and giving it over to him. She watched as he looked up to the sky for a few moments before scribbling something inside. He closed the cover and handed it back to her.

"Go on," Theo said, nodding at it. "I know you're dying to know what I wrote."

Daphne carefully opened the cover and saw Theo's words starting to appear on the page.

You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars.

-E.E. Cummings

Thank you for filling in the missing pieces of me.

-T

"It's perfect," Daphne said, leaning over to press a kiss on Theo's lips. As she pulled away, she looked around at the calm serenity of the lake. This was the perfect way to spend the evening - just the two of them, away from the chaos of the castle.

I wonder what Theo would have done for his birthday if Daphne wasn't back in the castle. It would appear that no one else wanted to celebrate - such a shame, but who am I to judge?

~xoxo, Gossip Witch ~

Want to be a part of the Gossip Witch fun?

This story is meant to be slightly interactive. Submit anonymous blasts about the students at Hogwarts and you might find your prompt used as inspiration in a future chapter! Submit your blasts to the @xo-gossipwitch blog on tumblr.

Thanks for continuing to inspire this story!

#xoxo gossip witch #xo gossip witch #xo gossipwitch #xo-gossipwitch #daphne greengrass #theodore nott #daphne x theo #thapne

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dhr-ao3 · 1 year

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you're safe with me

you're safe with me https://ift.tt/h8MER4U by thelashjedi Hermione crept inside the library at Malfoy Manor as quietly as possible. It was as good a place as any for to catch her metaphorical breath — before she had to plaster on a fake smile and rejoin the ball. Maybe she could find that book on the origins of arithmancy Draco mentioned the last time they were here? Hermione doubted she’d be back at the Manor any time soon. If ever. Not after tonight. Making her way to her favourite spot in the back corner, Hermione was taken aback as she discovered Draco collapsed in one of the wing-backed chairs; wearily rubbing his eyes with one hand, as the other gripped an empty glass tightly, notes of firewhisky lingering in the air. He hadn’t noticed her. Recovering from her surprise as best she could, Hermione deliberately kept her voice light. “Malfoy? Why on Earth are you hiding in the library? This is your Engagement Ball. Shouldn’t you be out there accepting the fawning praise of the Sacred Twenty-Eight luminaries for doing your part to keep the Malfoy family tree as devoid of branches as possible?” Words: 4601, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Technically present Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass, Emotional Infidelity, infidelity light, Infidelity adjacent, Arranged Marriage, Happy Ending, Seriously Happy Ending for everyone, Well maybe not for Ron but he's really not in this fic, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Parent Lucius Malfoy, Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy, Epistolary, epistolary in parts, Auror Hermione Granger, Auror Draco Malfoy, Guess who have been in love with each other for years but managed to never once discuss it?, dramione - Freeform, affectionate threats via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/YClAOgn November 29, 2022 at 08:04AM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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stark-tony · 3 years

Text

medium length hp fic recs (10k-50k)

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by Faith Wood (faithwood) (21.1k, E, drarry) It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Shelf Awareness by GhostofBambi (28.4k, M, jily) It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

A Good Teacher by lecturience (13k, G, gen) The other children in class stared at the teacher. Then they stared at Harry, then back to the teacher, then at Harry, in a never-ending loop.Harry found he couldn’t blame them. Everything from the bespectacled emerald eyes to the messy black hair—the resemblance between them was uncanny!

And the Unethical Binding Contract by justafandomfollower (14.6k, G, gen) AU. What if the Triwizard Tournament took place in Harry's first year, not his fourth?

Key Limes Universe by cgner (32.5k, T, jily) In which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system.

On a Clear Day by Saras_Girl (41.5k, M, drarry) Draco Malfoy is waiting for his real life to begin, and it appears that he’s not the only one. Coffee, charity, and the wisdom of the elderly.

Don’t mind if I keep your tie (And your heart, babe) by Ingi (21.4k, G, drarry) The Eighth year common room has a parrot in it, courtesy of McGonagall and her mad search for interhouse bonding.Most of the time, it's just there, until one day it repeats "Potter has a damn fine arse." And the Slytherins know exactly who the parrot's mimicking...Draco is not amused.

Little Lion Boy by ShanaStoryteller (11k, gen) Draco is sorted into Gryffindor.It's all part of the plan, really.

Take Two by Bundibird (45k, T, gen) Never let it be said that a Slytherin doesn’t know to take hold of an opportunity when it’s presented to him on a silver platter.[A Fourth Year AU in which Draco makes the most of Potter and Weasley’s fight and takes a second shot at befriending Harry. For the Greater Evil, obviously.]Cross-posted at ff.n

who discovered your secret by LullabyKnell (23.3k, G, gen) Pre-Canon AU: On the street named Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey, a man lived alone at Number Eight, supposedly.It was apparently difficult to tell.

Dudley Dursley's Most Unexpectedly Fortunate Flower by aTasteofCaramell (14.5k, G, hinny, dudley/ofc) Dudley Dursley is leading a perfectly normal life, his contact with his odd cousin limited to Christmas cards and peculiar memories.Until his daughter sneezes and sets the curtains on fire.

yesterday we were just children playing soliders by girlmadeofstars (23.1k, M, hinny, romione, draco/astoria) What if, when Harry heard the Slytherin portion of the Hat's song, he payed attention when the Hat sung perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends? Imagine this: a little boy- beaten, and ignored, for his entire life. A little boy- friendless, and lonely. A little boy- desperate for the kind of friendship he had read about in books, seen on the television screen.When the Hat offered him Slytherin, imagine that Harry said yes.

The Splendid Gallery by LullabyKnell (12.6k, G, fleurmione) Pre-POA AU: In the summer of 1993, the Grangers vacation in France and meet the Delacours. When the Granger-Delacour parents elect to explore Wizarding France as a group, Hermione Granger is thrown together with a girl named Fleur Delacour due to some bizarre idea that they will somehow magically become friends. Even though they have nothing whatsoever in common and Hermione doesn't like Fleur at all!In which two of the brightest witches of their age become very good friends.

we must unite inside her walls or we'll crumble from within by dirgewithoutmusic (44k, T, hannah/neville, hinny, padma/pansy, tedromeda, remadora) stories for the ladies of hogwarts, who cry, waver, giggle, trespass, and who deserve our respect all the same

Scenes From Another Life by Atalan (10.3k, T, wolfstar) The night James Potter died, Sirius Black stopped to think, and three lives unfolded another way. (Originally posted as Helene.)

there will come a time, you'll see by aloneintherain (10.8k, T, romione) They have Shepard’s pie for dinner. Ron and Hermione watch Harry fill up his plate and only start serving themselves when he picks up his fork and starts eating. Neville laughs into his wine glass.“How are you dealing with their mothering, Harry?” he asks.Ron opens and closes his mouth for a minute, groping for an excuse. Eventually, Ron says, “He’s just so small, Nev.”“Hey,” Harry says. “I’m seventeen. I’m an adult.”Ron shakes his head at Neville. “My best friend is an infant.”A curse regresses Harry to his seventeen year old self, physically and mentally. He doesn’t recognise this strange peaceful wizarding world, but there are two people he does recognise: Ron and Hermione. Based off this tumblr post.

Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger) (11.1k, G, hinny) “You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

#hp recs #my fic recs #hp

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pandemonshq · 4 years

Photo

Welcome, Nicky, please grab your stake on your way to your tumblr to play Draco Malfoy here at Pandemons. I think it’s no surprise to you that we adore your Draco: the marriage of convenience that still highlights the importance of family that every “good” Malfoy has, the Vampire Hunting, the fact that he’s still himself after all these years. ..

And, of course, your request for Alexander Skarsgård --present Fc and Austin Butler--past FC have been accepted.

Nicky’s application is being posted early due to her work on the game to get it up and running, and the relevance of Draco to the larger game plot. While Nicky is not a mod, her assistance made this game possible.

Out of Character Information

Name: Nicky Preferred Pronouns: she/her Age: over thirty O_o Timezone: EST Activity Level: Medium. I co-admin and participate in another roleplay, so depending on what is going on there in conjunction with the regular inconveniences of real life I may not have time to post responses every day, but I have absolutely no concerns that I will struggle to meet and indeed should regularly exceed the minimum requirement. I usually find Draco quite easy to write!

In Character Information

Character's Name: Draco Lucius Malfoy Bloodstatus: pure-blood Birthday: June 5, 1980

Gender and Sexuality: Transgender male, panromantic sex-positive asexual

Gender:

Draco was six when he informed his parents that he was going to grow-up to be a wizard like daddy, not a witch like mummy. It took them a little time to be certain that their child really understood and meant what he was saying, but once they were convinced, his parents sprang into action to support their son: Lucius didn’t just contact the Daily Prophet to have an adjustment to Draco’s birth announcement printed, he took out a full-page ad. Narcissa sat her little boy down and poured-over lists of constellations with him to find what his new name would be (not that it took Draco long to select his -- “I can be a dragon? I want that one!”). They threw-away and purchased an entire new wardrobe for him (although it had never been the ribbons to which Draco had objected) and anyone who wasn’t quick enough to adjust to Draco’s new name got a painful hex for their lethargy (including Abraxas, once). It wasn’t so much acceptance that Draco got from his parents as adoration -- in all aspects. He was perfect; he could do no wrong.

It wasn’t until he arrived at Hogwarts that Draco discovered that not everyone saw him through such idealized spectacles -- nor thought gender was as simple and straightforward a thing as the contents of a cauldron. For Draco, gender might as well have been synonymous with genitals, and swallowing a weekly dose of potion was all it took for him to go from girl to boy. The matter was closed...only it wasn’t. There were some people who thought the subject had far more nuance than that (one of the few subject on which he didn’t need losing a war to improve, at least) and then there were those who thought it had far less; who thought that there was no such thing as change. For the most part, they seemed to have come by those ideas from Muggle sources, which made both them and their words easy to dismiss -- mostly. Even a boy with as much blistering self-confidence (arrogance) as Draco is apt to find adolescence an uncertain, confusing time, and he was no exception; some barbs hurt even when you’re certain you don’t care. Having his dueling prowess questioned, his fashion-choices derided, his Quidditch skills discounted…all the things that, to Draco, meant masculinity. Not that witches couldn’t be great duelists or Quidditch players or fashion-plates, too; but Draco’s ideas of how to be a man were all modeled on his father. So to excel at “being a wizard” meant, for him, excelling at all the things at which Lucius excelled. (He was also always rather touchy about his name. He’d picked it himself, after all. It was the best name. His mother had said so!)

These days, Draco is far too used to simply being taken for a wizard to fret; it’s not as though he regularly goes around socializing with backwards-Muggle-thinkers, is it? (Not that all Mudb--Muggle-borns are backwards-thinkers! Some of them have done quite well at getting over their upbringing, and are quite indistinguishable from other wix now! He’s not bigoted anymore, you know!) He no longer focuses on mimicking his father in order to be a “proper” wizard -- in part because he’s grown more comfortable with himself as he grew-up, in part because exposure to the world beyond the immediate circle of his parents taught him that there’s more than one way to be a wizard, in part because an ex-Death Eater has more difficult things with which to grapple...and in part because the pedestal on which Lucius once stood in his son’s eyes has sagged a bit. Now instead of trying to trace anyone else’s footsteps, Draco is simply himself -- and learning to live with that was hard because of his choices and his mistakes, not his gender. Having anyone question his masculinity now on the basis that he takes a periodic dose of the Attisgalli Corrective Draught to maintain a physical form that suits his inner self would be less outrageous than baffling.

*NOTE: Draco is likely to express things about gender in outdated terminology because of his unfamiliarity with the Muggle world. However if this would make anyone uncomfortable please let me know (on-anon is fine!) because I will happily compromise a fiddly little bit of world building for the sake of my fellow players’ comfort!

Sexuality:

Perhaps the one area in which Draco actually disappointed his father: he’s just not interested in sex. He doesn’t have anything against it; it’s just not something that motivates him, not something he thinks about unless someone else brings it up first. (Sort of like beets. He has no objection to eating them, and sometimes they can be genuinely delicious, but he’s never gone out of his way for a serving of beets.) That disinterest is what killed his relationship with Pansy (well, that and the fact that Draco had no idea they were dating in Pansy’s mind!) because all her offers and innuendos passed right over his head; he tends to take physical affection on face value and flirtation registers to him as simple banter. Lucius “blames” himself, lamenting that it was his distraction and absence at a crucial stage of his son’s development that left Draco’s “interests stunted.” Draco doesn’t understand the fuss; he’s perfectly happy the way he is and, frankly, given the vast drop in social popularity that the Malfoys faced after the war, it’s probably just as well that his interests are “stunted” because his prospects certainly were.

Former Hogwarts House: Slytherin -- sorted nearly the second the hat touched his head because of course he was, he was Draco Lucius Malfoy, last heir to both the Malfoy and Black families, and the scion of two of the purest lines in all of magical Britain and absolutely guaranteed to do great things!

Infection:

( No. Although I think it would be a fun potential plot to have him be infected either temporarily or permanently later! Actually I feel like “temporary infections” should be a regular effect of his vampire slaying efforts, since he’s likely to be exposed through that! )

Faceclaim: Alexander Skarsgård--present. Austin Butler--past.

Short HeadCanon Topics (please provide at least one paragraph per topic)

Occupation (title and one paragraph explanation):

None...technically. Malfoys don’t need jobs, after all, so it should surprise no one that Draco hasn’t got one -- and it’s not as though he’s in a position where he can dabble in politics the way his father (and his father, and his father) did, is he? No, Draco has no job, only hobbies...

Or some might say, obsessions. One, actually: vampires. Draco Malfoy is a vampire hunter, possibly the first proper vampire hunter in over a hundred years. There hadn’t been a need for any in ages; vampires and wix had learned to co-exist long ago. Vampires had never really been accepted as ordinary people -- but they’d been fashionably exotic creatures, not scorned like half-giants or distrusted like goblins. The Malfoys in particular had been happy to socialize with (and take the money of) vampires, particularly back in the day; after Voldemort’s firstrise it became less acceptable for pure-blood wix to associate with any groups of non-wix unless they were serving the Dark Lord as well -- and vampires never did. Even as werewolves let themselves be courted and giants agreed to be bought, vampires kept their distance. So the Malfoys drifted away from them...

Until now. Until Astoria’s infection.

At first, Draco’s sole focus was in curing her -- and he hasn’t abandoned that hope. But as time passed and all his best efforts came to naught, those hopes have dwindled to a sort of cold, shriveled desperation. He still brews-up the occasional draught; still pieces-together scraps of old spells in hopes that something, some day, will save her...but that’s not his sole focus any longer. For a long time after the war, none of the Malfoys looked beyond the gates of the manor to the world outside -- but Scorpius is out there, now. He’s attending Hogwarts, moving through the world. Someday he’s going to grow-up and want to find a place for himself beyond the manor’s walls -- and like Lucius before him, Draco is determined to make that world as safe as possible for his child. Unlike Lucius, it’s not the tenuous (and perhaps somewhat exaggerated) threat of Muggles that Draco hopes to stem: it’s vampires, and the ever-increasing rate of infection among the magical world.

For a long time, he’s been fighting this quiet war alone in the dark. Who was he going to turn to for help, after all? Certainly not the Ministry of Magic! If Draco Malfoy walked in their doors talking about the dangers of a group of non-wix, he’d be lucky to just be ushered-away with a lecture on prejudice! No, he’s had to do this by himself -- but maybe not for much longer? Maybe things have finally gotten bad enough for someone else to notice...but will they want Draco’s help, expert though he has become on the subject? Maybe it’s still better for him to go this alone.

Marital Status/Ships:

(tl;dr - Draco loves Astoria but they aren’t together like that and fidelity isn’t a requirement of their marriage anyway; someone else would have to make the first several dozen moves before he would notice being flirted at, though! READ MORE)

Married to Astoria Greengrass. One might think it would be difficult for a lesbian witch to be married to a panro-ace wizard, but their marriage was never about romance. Yes, Draco very much considers Astoria someone he loves -- but what kind of love? Even he wouldn’t be able to answer that question, especially not these days. Astoria’s current state of vampiric infection makes her...strange. The guilt of not being able to cure her eats away at him too, and affects his every interaction with her. He’s an expert potioneer; why can’t he fix this? She’s his wife, why can’t he save her? His parents managed to keep each other (more or less) safe throughout two wars and a volatile Dark Lord; how could he be so inferior as to be unable to save his spouse from some stupid infection? An infection over which his mother initially wanted Astoria banished from the home, incidentally -- marking one of the few times when Draco has actually vehemently disagreed with Narcissa Malfoy. (One of the others was when he took the Dark Mark; he hopes that this doesn’t turn out like that but sometimes on the worst days, he wonders if his mother was right and keeping Astoria at home is dangerous -- possibly for their son!?) But infected or not, unclean or not, Draco knows he will always love Astoria.

That doesn’t mean he’s sleeping with her, though -- or that he wouldn’t sleep with someone else. Fidelity was never considered an integral part of a successful marriage in his social circles; indeed, a couple that spends so much time in one another’s beds as his parents do is the oddity rather than the norm. (Not that the two of them, especially Lucius, haven’t visited a number of other beds in their time, sometimes apart and sometimes together -- but Draco never found it nearly as entertaining as some of his friends back at Hogwarts did to talk about that.) A dalliance or even a love affair -- or a dozen -- on either his part or Astoria’s wouldn’t impact how Draco thinks about his wife or their marriage at all. Why would it? If he wasn’t something of a social pariah, he probably would have had a dozen little affairs by now -- but it’s not like he cares enough to miss the lack either (only even thinks about it when his father starts lamenting Draco’s lack of interesting experiences). It’s just the sort of thing one expects, that’s all. Of course, these days Draco’s a bit preoccupied, and hunting down vampires doesn’t leave a lot of time for dalliances...but if that leaves his bed a bit cold, it’s not something he’s ever noticed.

MultiParagraph or Multi Point Topics

Family:

Nothing matters more to Draco. Growing up, he idolized his parents and thought them perfect; his father was Draco’s model for idealized wizarding masculinity and Draco was determined to follow in his footsteps in every way. Even now, having been brought (quite painfully) face-to-face with their flaws and failings, he still adores and admires them. Not only did they always dote on him (maybe more than they should have) but during the war they proved over and over that they were each of them willing to die for his sake without hesitation -- something that was more than enough to erase any potential resentment he might have felt at having been forced into such misery by their choices. Yes, these days he knows that there are things they were wrong about -- but he still trusts their judgement in most areas, still values their opinion. Still loves them. They made it through a war together on the strength of that love; in these dark days, he still draws comfort from it.

The most important person in Draco’s life today isn’t his parents, though, or even his wife; it’s Scorpius, his precious son and only child. Growing-up in a house with four doting adults and little in the way of child companions meant that Scorpius’s childhood was never lonely but also did little to prepare him for peer socialization. He was always precociously clever; these days he qualifies as an unabashed swot and a distinct introvert. While he has the customary Malfoy sharp silver tongue, he substitutes defensive insecurity for swagger and brittle pride for arrogance. His recent appointment to Chaser on his house team has helped him build a few tentative bridges to his housemates, but his closest friends remain fellow Slytherin Albus Potter and Albus’s cousin, Rose Granger-Weasley. They aren’t the friends that Draco would have chosen for his son, but he has come to appreciate them deeply for the support and affection they offer Scorpius. (Even if Draco still tries to have as little to do with their families as possible.)

Draco’s affection for his son was always torn in two directions: wanting to give him anything and everything that would make him happy, and wanting to raise Scorpius to be a better person than he ever was himself. The latter did result in more than a few lectures (much more than a few) but that didn’t mean Draco wasn’t still an indulgent parent and Scorpius did indeed receive just about anything he ever asked for, materially. Draco would give his son everything he wanted, if he could -- but even his best efforts can’t cure Scorpius’s mother.

Scorpius was only four when Astoria was infected; when Astoria changed. Sometimes she still seems like herself (less and less each year, though -- or is that just in Draco’s head?) and they can all pretend that everything is fine; others...well. Draco has explained to Scorpius many times that the things his mother thinks she sees aren’t real. (Probably.) That he shouldn’t listen to them, worry about them. And Scorpius says he understands...but Scorpius was four and she’s his mum. While he doesn’t tell his father, he secretly believes every word that comes from his mother’s mouth. He thinks of her less as a Seer and more of a prophet, different from everyone else’s mother yes -- but special-different, not worse. He doesn’t talk about those thoughts to anyone, even Albus and Rose (maybe it would be better if he did; maybe someone could explain things to him better now that he’s older) but instead he nods seriously at all his father’s admonishments and his grandparents’ words of caution...and then goes and listens to his mother anyway.

It probably won’t lead to disaster. His mother would never hurt him, after all -- never tell him anything she’s seen that might lead him to do something dangerous. Not on purpose, anyway.

Childhood/Hogwarts:

(I’m going to go short on this part because A: I’ve rambled far more than I should have elsewhere and B: we know a lot of this from the books already, so if there’s any part of this I can get away with truncating to compensate for the rest, it’s this!)

Draco was a bully and a bigot and a brat; there’s no denying this. He was spoiled absolutely rotten, and it showed. He also genuinely loved his parents, and they loved him back, although perhaps not always in the most healthy of ways (see: aforementioned spoiling). He had a very good childhood, although school wasn’t as great as he’d expected -- for one thing, stupid Harry Potter didn’t want to be his friend even though he was clearly the coolest person in the whole castle, and for another this horrible Mudblood kept outscoring him in everything. (Potter even managed to out-cheat him at Quidditch every time!) But otherwise, everything was more or less okay -- until the Dark Lord came back, and it all fell apart. Draco went from being a pampered little prince to sobbing in the loo with only a dead girl for company; his two best friends stopped believing in him; Harry Potter nearly killed him; he nearly killed a lot of other people; and then when his favorite teacher finally got appointed headmaster it still didn’t make things better. In the end, despite all of Draco’s efforts he really accomplished nothing. He didn’t decide the outcome of the war; all he did was lose a friend and somehow make it out alive with his parents by the skin of their collective teeth, forgotten and ignored by everyone around them. In the end, he came to nothing and had to count himself lucky for it.

Post Hogwarts: (TW: brief mention of self harm, addiction! Also mentions of other characters that may-or-may-not be considered “game canon” based on discussion with whomever eventually comes to play said characters!)

Draco knows he’s luckier than he deserves, him and his parents. By rights, all three of them should probably be in Azkaban...but they aren’t. The trials they faced at the end of the war were long, grueling, and humiliating (crying in front of the entire Wizengamot is not an experience that Draco recommends to anyone) and the worst part was that Draco spent the entire process certain that he was going to Azkaban; he only made the effort of testifying with as much honesty and detail as he did because he hoped that his mother, the only one of them not to take the Dark Mark, might be spared incarceration if both he and his father told all they knew. His parents were doing the same thing, largely in hopes of sparing their son from Azkaban -- but fortunately for the Malfoys, what they knew far outweighed what they’d actually done...mostly because they hadn’t actually accomplished much. (If Lucius’s crimes from the first war had been included, things might have gone differently…) Draco failed at just about everything he tried, Lucius had spent most of the war either locked-away or wandless at the Dark Lord’s side, and Narcissa had been “protected” from having to take much action by the combination of her husband’s shame and her sister’s enthusiasm. And then, of course, there was Harry Potter -- surprising witness for the defense. There was no love lost between Draco and his very first enemy, but Harry nonetheless spoke-up for the Malfoys: Narcissa had lied to the Dark Lord, Draco had kept quiet when he recognized them, and Harry had seen through Voldemort’s own eyes that they had not been willing servants -- not by the end, anyway. Somehow, all of that had been enough to spare them…

At least from prison. Public opinion was another matter, so the Malfoys murmured their gratitude, paid their fines, and slunk away behind the walls of their mournful manor, all three of them -- and the house -- much reduced in pride and splendor. Draco spent the next few years wallowing in guilt and nightmares, repeatedly failing to carve the Dark Mark out of his arm, and worrying his parents. Highlights include: a short but bitter confrontation with Gregory Goyle at Vincent Crabbe’s tombstone (not that there was a body to bury, but tradition had to be maintained), a bewildering letter from Pansy regretfully breaking-up with him for the sake of her own future chances (had they been dating?), and a lengthy addiction to Dreamless Sleep Potion (he hadn’t even known you could get addicted to Dreamless Sleep, let alone that repeated doses made it toxic! At least he learned something interesting about potions in the process…). The last thing anyone expected was a wedding to brighten things up, but then again people -- Draco included -- had always underestimated Astoria Greengrass.

Draco, in fact, barely knew who she was -- just the little sister of one of Pansy’s friends whom he knew dimly from school. She certainly made an impression, though, going from introduction to proposal in less than five minutes. It wasn’t romance she was pitching, of course, but a more traditional sort of marriage -- an arrangement of convenience. Draco needed an heir to the family line, she wanted the comforts of wealth and the resources to pursue her interests somewhere no one would bother her (and with access to the right kind of supplies and resources, so she could avoid repeating her Aunt Pandora’s unfortunate fate). The Malfoys needed a dose of respectability, and the Greengrasses were solid middle class pure-bloods who had never been accused of more than peripheral brushes with the Dark Arts. They both stood to gain -- and outliers like Draco’s parents notwithstanding, wasn’t that what all successful marriages were really based on? Certainly in the world in which Draco had been socialized, they were; his parents had always been viewed with bemused confusion for how deeply besotted they were with one another. Marrying Astoria wasn’t an act of passion or romance -- but it made sense. What didn’t make sense to Draco was how easy it was to fall into friendship with the stubborn witch -- but he wasn’t going to complain.

He was happy, which wasn’t something he’d ever expected to feel again after the age of sixteen. And they had a son. Scorpius was the best thing that ever happened to Draco, far better than he deserved -- but he wasn’t going to complain about that, either. One of the many painful lessons he’d learned over the course of his lifetime of mistakes was how to be happy with what he had, and he couldn’t imagine anything better than Scorpius anyway. It wasn’t the sort of “perfect life” he’d anticipated when he was young and foolish -- but it was good.

Until it wasn’t. When Astoria’s magical tinkering left her infected with vampirism ten years ago, the happy illusion of a happily-ever-after fell apart. Draco dove into research, trying to brew a cure -- but nothing worked. He dug deeper, delving into all the family’s information on their pre-Voldemort vampiric connections and then branching-out, calling in the few family favors people were still willing to (or too scared not to) repay and exploring every shabby shop that dealt with the Dark Arts that he could find. He didn’t discover a cure; he did discover that Astoria wasn’t the only recent case of vampiric infection.

Current:

Draco Malfoy never set out to save anyone but his own family. Unfortunately for Draco’s selfish nature, one of the things he’s learned over the last ten years is that the only way to save Astoria may involve sticking his neck out for other people, too. (Or maybe that’s just the excuse he gives himself. Maybe his pursuit of the vampires who are infecting his world, his home, is more about vengeance than salvation at this point.) That dosen’t mean it’s something that comes naturally to him, or something he likes.

Case in point: he hasn’t bothered to try and convince the wider Wizarding World that they ought to be worried, proactive -- because frankly if he did, who would listen? No, better to keep it to himself because that way at least no one is trying to stop him. Not that such a quest can be a solitary pursuit: one needs resources, information, occasionally even “allies” of a sort (mostly the sort that can be bought with money and favors, not loyalty). Fortunately Draco still has money and the one thing the Malfoy name can still buy aside from gold is favors and connections with those who walk the edges of the Dark Arts (and lower). Not that most of those favors or connections are as open-armed as they once were (turning your back on a Dark Lord and helping to testify against all your old friends so they go to prison while you go free doesn’t do much to endear oneself to anyone) but Draco doesn’t really care if people are grudging or reluctant or downright insulting so long as they do or give him what he needs. This mission isn’t about saving his reputation or restoring the family name; those wistful daydreams evaporated ten years ago. Now he doesn’t even waste time on the hope that Scorpius may be able to redeem their name enough to make a future for himself that isn’t overshadowed by the family’s past; these days, just keeping things from falling apart further is all he can ask.

Of course, he’s doing more than just sitting at home trying to hold his family together. Yes, he spends as much as he can with them -- his son, especially, although that happens less these days now that Scorpius is off at school for months at a time -- but he’s got his mission, too, which can keep him out of the house for days at a time (especially now that Scorpius is at Hogwarts, although with his parents living in the other wing of the manor even when Scorpius was young and Astoria was having a particularly bad day he didn’t have to worry about leaving them alone). There’s nowhere Draco won’t go in his pursuit both of the horrible creatures that are spreading this infection and the knowledge he seeks to cure it -- although it’s certainly easier to get around Knockturn Alley than the halls of the Ministry of Magic, for a Malfoy! He hesitates to involve his son, but on rare occasion he may even ask Scorpius to check something for him in the Hogwarts library, but doing so leaves him sickened at the thought that someone might see and wonder why so he ignores that resource perhaps more often than he should. There’s nothing else he won’t do in his quest, however...even knowing that he ought to be more prudent. It would be awful if the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were to turn suspicious eyes on him, after all -- but he can’t just do nothing, can he?

And maybe, deep down, there’s part of him who still thinks he can get away with it. After all, no matter how repentant he is -- how much he’s changed, how much the way the world views him has changed -- he is still, at heart, Draco Malfoy.

Plots:

#1. The Potters and the Weasleys -- and everyone else whom Draco called “enemy” (or “blood-traitor” or “filthy mudblood” etc) for his entire childhood. Where do they stand now? What happens when they have to work together? When they have to take his word for the things he knows, the expertise he’s accumulated? When he’s the one who knows how to save somebody, not them? When he’s the one fighting the “forces of darkness” while they sat back in ignorant safety as the world quietly shattered around them? Will they be practical about it, will they trust him? Will they be gracious or stubborn, convinced that there are some Marks that can’t be washed away? Will he be an ass? (Almost definitely -- but to what level?) There’s likely been very little interaction between Draco and most of these people over the last twenty years -- but does that mean the mental scars have softened? How much infected blood does it take to clear away all the blood under the bridge that’s flowed between all of them? I’m looking forward to Draco having to face all the people he’s been avoiding -- and for them to have to (or refuse to) face the fact that this time, he might be on the right side...or is he? In a world where vampirism is becoming more and more common, at what point does a vampire hunter stop being a protector and start becoming the monster? Is Draco once again going to find himself -- this time with the best of intentions -- labeled the bad guy?

#2. Luna Lovegood. She’s more than just “another member of the D.A.” to Draco; she’s the girl who was locked-up in the cellar of his home for months, the girl he was forced more than once to torture. He never thought much about Loony Lovegood before then (she was easy to make fun of, sure, and he’d do so if the opportunity walked in front of him, but she wasn’t someone he was interested enough in to go out of his way to bully her -- he had better targets for that!) but she’s featured regularly in his guilty nightmares ever since. The fact that he later married her cousin just made things more convoluted -- although thankfully the Greengrasses and the Lovegoods had never really had anything to do with one another… Basically: I would love to explore some kind of dynamic with Draco and Luna! Has he been successfully avoiding her since 1998? Did Astoria invite her estranged family to the wedding? Do they run into each other in the shops sometimes -- Draco trying to turn invisible, Luna waving politely? Maybe he tried to apologize once and Luna made him squirm by shrugging it off -- oh well it’s not like you wanted to do it, is it? I could tell that quite well, you’re not a very good liar are you? Anyway, why would I blame you for what Voldemort made you do to me? That doesn’t seem sensible at all...why are you making that face? Have you swallowed a wrackspurt? -- and now every time he sees her, he tries to run the other way out of fears that she’ll be nice. Or maybe she’s not nice. Luna doesn’t seem the grudge-holding sort...but if anything were going to teach her how, surely the Cruciatus Curse would do it! Maybe she doesn’t wave; maybe she scowls until he slithers away, cringing in impotent repentance. Maybe he even tried investing in The Quibbler -- paying to restore the damage the Death Eaters and Hermione had done to the printing press and her father’s home -- as recompense, and Luna threw the money back in his face...or maybe he now, quite unintentionally, owns a “share” of The Quibbler. Something that Pansy and Blaise would probably never stop laughing about if they knew… I don’t know, there are so many options for what direction to take things with the two of them! I’d love to explore ANY.

#3: Infection. This one’s more just for “me” but I love the idea of still-rather-bigoted Draco Malfoy having to cope not just with the fact that his wife has been infected with vampirism (something he mostly did with a lot of denial and cognitive dissonance tbh) but himself, too. In his “career” as a vampire hunter, he must have encountered a few instances of contamination -- nothing permanent, nothing where the blood went both ways -- but temporary infections? Oh, certainly! I expect the first time absolutely tore him to shreds, emotionally. He’s Draco Malfoy. He’s the purest of the pure. How could he be infected? Inconceivable, insupportable! He’d never recover, never be the same -- only he did recover. And then what choice did he have but to keep going? Each time, I think he’s more sickened by the facts than he is by the symptoms themselves; by the fact that he’s been tainted by something impure. And each time he picks himself back up after and keeps going -- but eventually the toll is going to tell. (Either that, or he’ll have to come to terms with the fact that all blood-purity is nonsense, not just the idea that Muggle-borns have “lesser” magic.) Whether this breaks him down or builds him up better, I’m interested to explore this painful process of involuntary self-discovery!

Other:

Attisgalli Corrective Draught -- a gender reassignment potion designed for use by the entire Potterverse fandom. Offered here both as extra detail on what potion Draco takes, and for anyone else who might want to make use of it either as-is or as inspiration for their own creations!

+Fashion Headcanon: The featureless black school robes and ubiquitous pointed hats were a blessing to Draco, although he didn’t realize it at first; he’d grown-up used to his father’s flamboyant style of dress, and the dullness of the Hogwarts student body was wearying...until he started to realize that there were some wix who didn’t think it suitable for a wizard to dress like that. His father didn’t, wouldn’t have, cared; Draco found it a more troubling perspective. (Of course broad-shouldered, boisterous, assigned-male-at-birth Lucius’s masculinity had never been doubted by anyone; even those who despised him or dismissed him as a vain and foppish fool never thought he wasn’t a wizard.) The plain black robes were easier...safer. They didn’t require any thought; didn’t have room for any self-expression that might make a statement. On the one hand, Draco wanted to swagger into a room like his father would have, peacock feathers trailing from his shoulders and glittering gemstones in his hair, grinning in arrogant superiority...but on the other, he didn’t want to be teased for being too girly. (Not after discovering that that was a thing some people said about things.) His fourth year at school was the hardest: starting your very first day of classes by being turned into a ferret and humiliated in front of half the student body would have shaken anyone’s confidence. The fact that things were unsettled at home didn’t help; his father was more distracted than Draco had ever seen him before, and mother was little better, both of them fretting over the impending return of the Dark Lord and trying (and succeeding, then) to keep their son from thinking that would be anything but a good thing. Maybe if Draco had been more open with his parents about his emotional struggles...but he was at a stage of trying to seem grown-up. To prove they didn’t need to baby him anymore. (To prove that he was ready to help the Dark Lord, too.) So he kept quiet...and had them send him a different, plainer set of dress robes for the Yule Ball instead of the flamboyant, Lucius-approved concoction of dripping blue silk and pearl beading that he’d meant to wear initially. Draco felt safer in the plain (but impeccable!) black -- a feeling that never went away. Even today he prefers understated elegance, dark colors that don’t draw the eye; prefers clothing that is protective in its coverage -- high collars and tall boots (the sole concession he makes to modern fashions is to allow the skirts of his robes to sometimes lift enough to show calves and even knees, albeit always suitably clad in hose or tights or trousers; he’s not a barbarian) and of course: long sleeves. No one outside the family has seen past Draco’s wrists in over twenty years and, if Draco has his way, no one ever will.

#harry potter roleplay #new lsrpg #lsrpg #lsrp #draco malfoy #urinfected

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junhaoshua · 5 years

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The Great Collie Crossover, 8/10

A/N: I own none of the characters, being neither JK Rowling nor @colubrina. This is just a chance for me to play in the sandbox they have created.This is a birthday/get well soon present for the lovely @colubrina, whose work has been such a joy and inspiration to me.

*** 7: Lady of the Lake

“What happened here?” Hermione asks dryly. “Sorted into Slytherin? Married Tom Riddle? Death Eaters won?”

The other witch’s smile grows wider and wider with every question. “No, no, and no. Sorted into Gryffindor, Harry killed Voldemort, and the Order won.” Her smile fades at that. “The Order won, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

“You mean-”

“I think you need to see it for yourself,” other-Hermione says with a sort of stiff finality. “I think you need to see everything.”

The world fades, darkens, warps, and they find themselves in a bar, past-Hermione sitting in the shadows and watching Harry and Ron surrounded by admirers, basking in their post-war glory. Then Malfoy slides into the seat opposite her.

“Don’t blame Draco,” other-Hermione says as they watch the conversation, the slow and careful words with the strong current of I want power running underneath, the mutual agreement that making people give you power was far more effective than seizing it. “I’d been thinking how I could run things better for a long time.”

Hermione watches her past counterpart point Draco’s own wand at him, then return it and give it to him, and leave together. No, Draco Malfoy likely couldn’t be blamed for this Hermione’s darkness.

Veritaserum and questions, and Draco already sitting at her feet, willingly placing himself under her thumb. Their plans to make her Lady and Queen. Draco comes to pick her up from the ratty old flat she was in at the start, armed with a snake bracelet to court her. Huh. Dinner and a quiet walk where people look at them with cool speculation. Kissing and flirting in front of the bookstore where Harry and Ron are signing. Waving the bracelet plaintively, all the while confirming her relationship with Draco and goading Ron into pushing her. A wary conversation - what the hell did Ron do in this world? - and then a kiss, a real kiss, not a public show.

Inducting Theo into the inner circle and inserting a kill switch into his head with legilimancy. Lunch with Harry and his refusal to reconcile with Draco. The most inelegantly expressed proposal in history.

Lady-Hermione laughs, and Hermione realises she said that aloud. “It doesn’t really matter, since marrying Draco is part of the game. I suppose he’s lucky that I’d have married him no matter how he proposed.”

The inner circle expanding to include Blaise and Pansy and Greg. Meeting in her old flat and discussing traditional morality. Planning how to gain power through articles about the Order living lives of hedonistic decadence with money from the war. Making herself look like a figure of purity, living in simplicity. Meeting Narcissa and learning about the old custom of fostering. Volunteering at a pathetic little orphanage. An orphanage, that according to official records, is very well funded, and in reality, even better funded than the records suggest. A conversation about changelings and blood magic.

A cold, numb shock slowly creeps up her spine. Yes, blood magic was - blood magic - but was it really Dark to take down a regime like this? A regime that deprived children and laundered money? How could the Order act like this and still be Light?

Inducting Astoria and Luna, Luna who speaks in metaphors upon metaphors that make everyone think she’s Loony because they’re unable to understand her, that make Theo drop to his knees and beg Hermione not to trust her. Meeting Greg and Astoria and - “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” Lady-Hermione says in a low, flat voice.

Tiring of their constant prejudice, the assumption that she must be a pureblood because Draco would never touch her if she was a filthy mudblood, even though that’s the assumption she’s using to gain power. Arguing with Draco and ripping through his brain with desperate ferocity. She needs to know if he despises her. Has to know. And a proper proposal.

“That would have been more romantic if you hadn’t tortured him first.”

Lady-Hermione shrugs. “I wouldn’t have accepted his proposal if I didn’t know.”

Quiet conversations with Draco. Being snubbed by Ginny. Discussing Luna and muggleborns with Blaise. Reassuring him that she has a way to solve the risk of discovery they pose. Finding out Ron hit Draco - and once more Hermione wonders who this Ron is, what he did to her, because he’s not the Ron she knows. Theo giving them proof of the Order’s creative accounting. Him accidentally letting slip that he knows she isn’t a pureblood, and having a wand shoved into his neck for it.

“It is far safer to be feared than loved,” she quotes.

Her counterpart laughs. “But every prince must desire to be considered merciful and not cruel. And to avoid being despised and hated. That was the Order’s mistake, and I don’t repeat mistakes.”

Coming to an agreement that involves him walking her down the aisle in loco fratris. The importance of the Nimue symbolism. More conversations with Narcissa about fosterage. Meeting Harry and Ron.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” this Harry says, and past-Hermione throws it back in his face even as he excuses whatever Ron did as “not a big deal”, as “you’re obviously fine and it’s not you were like this innocent victim”. Ron grabbing her wrist so hard that they can almost hear the bones grind together. She glances at other-Hermione and sees the witch’s frozen expression. These aren’t her boys. Whoever they are in this world, they’re not her boys. Ron would never lay hands on her. And Harry would never, never allow it. He would never excuse it with pretty words and cut her off. She wants to applaud when past-Hermione tells them to bugger off.

Getting Blaise to contact the bargirl who gave her ice for the wrist, who’s part of some underground anti-Order movement. Draco finding out that Ron hurt her wrist and promising to kill him. Her allowing it. She doesn’t blame her; if Ron treats her like that in public when they’ve broken off, what did he do to her when they were together? Could her Ron ever do that?

Visiting Astoria and Greg, Astoria who’s now pregnant but the child isn’t Greg’s. Her Slytherin boys dragging back some Order informant to her flat so they can pick through her brain. She goes to the kitchen to prepare snacks, and when she returns, the boys have done their work. Is it more evil to do your dirty work yourself, to feel the weight of it on your conscience and blood on your hands? Or is it more evil to have someone willingly stain themselves with evil at your command while you remain technically pure?

Marrying Draco in a humble wedding at the park, her hair braided in a subtle circlet, the simplicity of her robes a beautiful contrast against the Order’s lavishness when they’re side by side in the papers. Their wedding night, Draco gentle and sweet until he finds out -

“Ron did what?” she gasps.

“I was weak,” Lady-Hermione says, her words hard and cold in a way she recognises. It’s the way she speaks when she’s afraid of her own emotions. “Weak and silly. I’m not anymore.”

Working out the money system with Theo. Embezzlement and illegal seizure of assets and debased coinage and nepotism. This Order disgusts her. They need to fall. Meeting with the photographer who took shots of the orphanage, because every regime needs someone in the media. Telling Pansy to start a column painting Harry as the right candidate for Minister because of his unblemished morality.

Meeting with the inner circle in her bright new flat - a circle including Daphne Greengrass as writer of mocking limericks. The girl has a talent for it. Planning for the orphanage to be exposed and Astoria to out Harry. Listing potential adoptive families for the orphans and the changeling project. Changelings. Astoria and Harry. This should make sense, she should be able to put the pieces together, but she can’t grasp it. Theo wanting one of them for his heir and having the life hugged out of him. Yes, this Hermione knows how to use love and fear both.

Spellwork and planning with Blaise and Draco. Why do they want to make someone get drunk, and what’s this about transfiguring wood into babies? She wants to think, but then the scene shifts to her ascertaining Luna’s loyalty - which is strong, contrary to what the boys think of her dotty reputation - and she can’t be lost in idle musings.

Reconciliation with her Slytherin swains after they’re nearly broken by her displeasure. Blaise accepting her real blood status and nearly crying when he finds out she’s got a plan to ensure all children are raised in the magical world.

“At least you managed to restore their memories,” she says bitterly as she watches past-Hermione tell Blaise about her parents.

“Is it better to have them know me and hate me, or not know me at all?”

Astoria delivering the baby. Daphne delivering a spell to make Ginny a cheap drunk. The pieces come together.

“Astoria has Harry’s kid,” she says slowly. “That’s why you did all that. Make people want him for Minister for his morality, then destroy it with the affair, and of course Ginny will get drunk when her marriage publicly falls apart. That’s how you’re getting him off the chessboard.”

Lady-Hermione claps as the world swirls and they find themselves at Harry’s press campaign and how it all falls apart when Astoria comes with the baby. “You realised it just in time. A little slow on the uptake, aren’t you?”

“And the changeling project,” she says as they watch past-Hermione with Theo at the orphanage with the press. coincidentally managing to goad Ron into boasting the Weasleys are responsible for these “character building conditions” and going on the record with it. “Bring in the muggle-borns, leave some dead baby behind transfigured from wood or whatever it is, and have them fostered. No more muggle-borns.”

The other witch looks at her with faint surprise. “Perhaps you aren’t so slow after all.”

Shopping with Theo. Telling Draco she’s pregnant. The orphanage expose hitting the papers. Networking with the purebloods at a party for the kid Theo adopted, Æthel. Becoming godparents for Alicia, Astoria’s daughter, and a public proposal from Greg.

She looks at the other witch in surprise. “I take care of my people,” Lady-Hermione says simply.

Bringing Marcus Flint in. Resigning from the Ministry in protest over the orphanage, then running for Minister herself. Sending Luna and Æthel to feed misinformation to Harry. Meeting Neville and Hannah at the orphanage and being warned about Ron.

There’s a thud as her counterpart punches the wall. “I should have listened then,” the other witch says with a sort of miserable fierceness.

Bringing Percy in by promising to bury his involvement in the embezzlements, and him endorsing her in exchange. He’s always been the pragmatic one, the ambitious one. Harry fighting for custody of the baby. At least he’s got enough of a conscience to want to take responsibility, but past-Hermione doesn’t seem to agree. Working with Pansy and Daphne on restoring pureblood power, their lands and Wizengamot seats. Painting Arthur Weasley as a fool and Shacklebolt as a villain who crippled the economy and stole from the old families. Astoria’s wedding. Ginny finally drinking herself to death.

Charming the populace. Making the common people root for the wealthy to have their estates and vaults returned to them. Inciting protest marchers in the streets. Publicising Ron’s sexual exploits in the papers. Narcissa tacitly admitting she knows the truth about Hermione’s blood and doesn’t care. A spat with Molly. “I should have listened,” Lady-Hermione says again, and Hermione feels a slow, dawning dread.

George joining the service organisation she set up, perhaps the only Weasley who’s actually innocent in this whole mess. Giving a speech that has people chanting her name. Winning the election, as expected.

Then Ron coming out of the crowd with accusations. Cursing her, a curse that would have dealt more than a glancing blow if Æthel hadn’t sent off a quick stunner. Blood soaking her robes as she lost the baby, as Ron lies dead on the floor from Draco’s curse.

“No,” she gasps, horrified, as the world dissolves. “What - how could he -”

“I lost the baby,” she says simply. “Nearly lost my mind. The boys took revenge, but it didn’t help me. By the time they crowned me I was about ready to break down. Power changes you, but not always in the way you expect.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, wondering if this Hermione means herself or the Order.

“It seems blood sacrifice, and a million people wanting to believe in a myth, have a way of inviting the unexpected in. And that’s all I’ll say on the subject,” she adds with a hard expression when Hermione opens her mouth.

So she changes her question. “Do you regret any of it?”

“I’m probably the only one who wishes things could change, you know. Among the dark witch versions of us. Riddle-us, whatever she says, is probably the only one of us who knows she’s evil and likes it. The rest of us…” she shrugs. “Darkness is useful, until one day you wake up and you don’t know who you are anymore.”

“But you - who made you like this? Why are all of you like this here?”

Lady-Hermione shrugs again. “The Order corrupted the world. I tried to fix it, ruined lives in the process. Ron killed my son, died for his trouble, invited her in. Who knows where the blame goes? Does it even matter?” She turns, starts walking away as the fog rolls in. “Watch yourself, Hermione. Do what you want but try to remember some things can’t be undone.”

***

When she lands in the grounds of Hogwarts, she knows somehow, instinctively, this is the last world.

A Hermione who looks ordinary enough stands there with a smile, wearing two simple rings, a peacock drawn in brown adorning her hand, and yet another diamond tennis bracelet. “A gift from Theo,” other-Hermione says. “An adopted sibling thing. I’m not actually a Nott. And it’s not a portkey or anything.”

***

Thank you to @sulisaints for helping me with some parts of this very tricky chapter, and of course to @colubrina for creating this world. And above all, thanks to all of you for reading, kudos-ing and commenting on this fic. You are what motivates me. Crossposted on AO3.

#my work #tgcc #colubrina #lady of the lake #dark hermione #dramione #bluna #thercy

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alsbesluit · 5 years

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Draco knew that going back to school was the best thing he could have done. He knew that if he got his NEWTs, he could technically consider whatever career he wanted if he wanted one at all. He knew it looked better for his own and his family’s reputation.And he knew it was better for himself to get some more good memories in a place that he loathed because of all that had happened in it during the war. Being back felt like normalcy in a place where nothing had been normal the past two school years. Today, though, during a class shortly after the Christmas break, he regretted going back the moment the class’ subject was brought up. The Unforgivable Curses. He sat through the class, pretending to listen and make notes, and wondered who he was fooling. Certainly not Theo, who was sat next to him and looked every bit as uncomfortable and he was. Perhaps not the teacher either, who stole a couple of glances at the Slytherins when he thought they were making notes. Maybe not even Astoria, whose gaze he caught once or twice when his mind drifted away and he looked at her. Whatever the case may be, when the class was over and they went to the next, Transfiguration, he was not completely present and it showed in his inability to pay attention. (It took Theo calling his name three times in a raised voice to make him realize the other must need him for something; when he said they needed to pair up, Draco had no idea what they were supposed to do and only then realize they must have to transfigure something or something like that). He was no better during dinner, staring at his food absentmindedly and pushing it around his plate while the others around him discussed their classes and quidditch. He was asked about the upcoming game and had to ask which it was, while he was the quidditch captain. After dinner he joined the small group that left for the library, but didn’t do his homework. Instead, he buried his head in some books that he brought from his home’s library, subject unknown because he had charmed the covers and didn’t let anyone else read. By the time the night came around, Draco was predictably unable to sleep. It had come to the point that he knew it was going to be a bad night, so he hadn’t even tried. It meant that as soon as it seemed like the others were asleep, Draco got a book from his nightstand, put on a hoodie and exited the dorm room to go to the common room, where he found a comfortable couch and a blanket. In the minutes that followed he was focused on the book and happy to forget all else, but then he heard footsteps on the chairs of the dorm. He checked if he had his wand nearby before turning around. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, exactly, but it surely wasn’t Astoria with a face expression implying that she was not at all surprised to see him there. He made space for her on the couch reluctantly. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, unsure if he would get an answer at all. He folded his arms over one another uncomfortably. “Defence Against was not a particularly fun class today, was it?” And that didn’t need an answer either. “I get why they thought it was necessary to discuss it, but for me it wasn’t useful.” That felt like a complete understatement. “So I just decided to take my mind off it. What about you, what are you doing up at this hour?”

#( draco & astoria ).#( in the midnight hour ).

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disneyfanatic-kitty · 6 years

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The Other Malfoy: Chapter 2 - On the Platform

(~1750 words) Read it on AO3

Chapter Summary: Harry had a short conversation with Draco on Platform 9 3/4 while waiting for the train to arrive before Winter Break

The Hogwarts Express was known for its punctuality so Harry did not arrive too early to the platform despite wanting to talk to Draco Malfoy, believing that Draco would not enjoy the sour looks and whisperings he would inevitably receive wherever he go longer than necessary. On this Sunday, five days before Christmas, Harry and Ginny passed through the gate to the platform at 4:10pm, twenty minutes before the train was due to arrive. Having explained his intentions to talk to Malfoy with Ginny, she calmly kept her pace with him while he marched down the full length of the platform, scanning the crowd for the white-blonde ponytail of Draco Malfoy. To his disappointment, he had not arrived yet, while the Saviour's agitated behaviour had immediately drawn the attentions of the majority of anxious families who were waiting to pick up their children, further agitating him.

He felt himself relaxed as he was joined by his best friends on the platform. As important as Hermione's job was, she always managed to take times off for her family, he would never stop admiring his best friend's organisational and time-management skills. He noticed the rest of the Weasley clan clustering somewhere behind them.

"Hello Harry, you don't look too well. Are you feeling nervous for Albus' return?" The Minister for Magic asked after giving him a quick hug.

"What?" Things with Albus had been going surprisingly well that he was genuinely surprised by his friend's concern. "No...no. Actually, I'm looking for Malfoy. There is something I would like to talk to him."

Hermione looked somewhat surprised but understanding. Ron, however, looked affronted. "What? You haven't even greeted your best mate yet and here you are, looking for the ferret? Don't tell me he has suddenly become your best …" He shut up the moment he noticed the uniform glares given to him by both Ginny and Hermione.

Even though he knew he had done absolutely nothing wrong, Harry instinctively looked down guiltily as he explained, "Well, it's just that there's something about Scorpius that Draco has every right to know…" It was somewhat weird for Harry to be saying Malfoy's first name out loud and he would not be surprised if Ron would take offense with that but even though he was used to referring to Scorpius by his first name, it would still be confusing to use Scorpius and Malfoy in the same sentence to refer to the two different Malfoys respectively.

"Harry, I think you are doing a good thing. Just Ignore Ron." Hermione patted him in the back as she said reassuringly.

He was about to make some awkward response when Ginny nudged him urgently and pointed him to the opposite direction, where Draco Malfoy was walking stiffly towards the platform. He was not sure if it was a dress suit he was wearing or just an everyday suit that looked ridiculously fancy. At least it was in dark green instead of black, it appeared that Malfoy had finally done mourning.

Harry felt a knot in his stomach as he debated how he should approach the widower. After Godric's Hollow, it had appeared as if they had finally become friends after all these years but they were not united in crisis right now, and there had been too complicated a history between them for him to just casually walk up to say hello. He waited for Malfoy to meet his eyes to decide.

Feeling Harry's glance, Draco turned his head slightly towards his direction. He seemed kind of surprised to find Harry appear to be expecting him, but then he curtly nodded at him without a smile, a greeting not much different from the ones they had shared the past three years, then returned back on course to the front of the platform. He ended up standing about twenty feet away from them, determinedly trying to ignore all the bitter looks and "Death Eater" talks.

Harry felt unexpectedly disappointed. It was not like he expected them to be best friends now, but he had honestly believed that something had changed between them since Malfoy had opened up to Harry about Astoria and the Malfoys had joined the Potters in witnessing Harry's parents' murder. Another part of him did understand that even if they were friends, Draco Malfoy probably would not want to be seen openly approaching the Potters and the Weasleys. Remembering his purpose and feeling Ginny's encouraging nudge toward Malfoy's direction, Harry took a deep breath then walked over to Draco with Ginny. Hermione walked over after a few seconds as well, followed by a very reluctant and grumpy Ron Weasley.

Draco did not turn at all until Harry had reached his side, he said with a faint smirk, "Well, how may I help you, Mr Harry Potter?"

Harry sighed, why did Draco have to make everything so difficult? At least it could have been worse, Malfoy had finally stopped emphasising his "Potter" every time he pronounced his name, that had to be considered an improvement after thirty years. "Good afternoon to you too, Malfoy. I just want to check with you to see how Scorpius has been doing since G… well, since that night."

The smirk was gone immediately from the pale face, replaced by a concerned stare. Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously and asked, "Why would you suddenly be so interested in my son's well being? Do you know anything I ought to know?"

Harry wanted to kick himself inside, he was terrible at making small talks and presently, he could feel his cheeks warming from nervousness, guiltiness and embarrassment. "No… it's just… It was my fault that Albus has run away and dragged Scorpius into any of this. I have never properly apologised to you about that, and if anything had happened to Scorpius…" Harry could not bring himself to finish, relating the sufferings he had experienced when Albus had been lost to Draco's, he could only blame himself but as far as he knew, Draco had been an excellent father to Scorpius and had deserved none of that.

Draco seemed to relax as he turned to Ginny and spoke with a straight face, "Well, Mrs Potter, I imagine you have a very difficult job in convincing the Saviour that the world does not revolve around him, good luck." He gave a barely detectable smile which Ginny returned more openly before turning back to Harry. "As for you, Mr Potter. I appreciate your concern. I can assure you that Scorpius has never been happier than he has been for the past two months. But I do want to say that, as his father, I am not delusional and blind. You may be indirectly responsible but it could not be said to be your fault. I am completely aware of Scorpius' mistakes in this whole affair. Given the … rumour, I have always taught him to see safety as his highest priority. It may have been your son's fault, but Scorpius has been very reckless in his own right. I have already reprimanded him for his reckless behaviours." Harry could not help feeling terrible for the poor boy who had already been through so much, he did not even want to know what "reprimand" entailed for Draco Malfoy.

"Also, technically, it was partially my son's fault that Albus was lost along with him the third time. He did have the best intentions, and… no offense to you and to the Minister" He gave Hermione a look before turning back to Harry, but ignored Ron's glare, "he was justified in distrusting the Ministry with it, (he was obviously being discreet in referring to the Time Turner for fear of being overheard) but Scorpius really should have known better to turn it in when he could."

Harry had known that Draco Malfoy had changed for years, but never had his glaring difference in personality and maturity been displayed in such plain view to him before. This Draco might still be reserved and distant, but he was sensible, wise and understanding, not to mention brave, determined and was a devoted and loving father, given how he had volunteered to join their rescue mission. His outward appearance might have looked very much similar, but his inside could not have been more different from his ignorant, self-absorbed, bullying younger self. Hermione had a very serious look on her face, no doubt thinking about her failures in the Time Turner disaster, while Ron might have looked displeased, he seemed to be able to see the sense behind Draco's words.

"That being said," everyone looked up to Draco's words, having thought that he had finished, "I can totally see where Scorpius was coming from at the time. I would likely have followed Albus and made the same mistakes if I were him as well." Draco gave a meaningful look from Harry to Ron and Hermione, who were both looking rather stunned and confused. Harry could still hear Draco's words in his kitchen, I envied you those friendships more than anything else, he could tell instinctively that what he meant was that he would have abandoned everything to join his best friend on a time traveling adventure at their boys' age had he shared this kind of friendship with someone as well. Harry tried to look away and coughed, it was embarrassing that he was the one feeling naked with his thoughts when Draco was the one baring his deeper desires to them.

"You okay, Harry?" Ginny looked sideway to him with a slight frown. Looking at her, he could tell that Ginny had understood Draco's words as well, she was perhaps imagining how it would have been for her to have such a best friend as well. Harry gave a half-hearted nod when he turned to see that Draco was looking at him amusedly.

There was a minute of awkward silence when nobody quite knew what to say. Fortunately, the silence was broken by the noise of the train engine, they had been too absorbed in their conversations to notice that the train was almost there. Seemingly having reached an unspoken agreement that it would be easier for them not to resume the conversation, the Potters and Malfoy stood together in companionable silence with the Granger-Weasleys talking between themselves nearby, oblivious to all the pointed looks and whisperings around them, waiting to pick up their sons after what had felt like the longest school term in their entire lives.

A/N: One of the things I have wondered ever since reading the script is what the Potters, Draco and the Weasleys remembered from the period of time between first time travel and second time travel after the alternate realities have been reversed. I am aware that Harry might have done things differently and the interactions between Harry and Draco might have been altered as well, but since it's implied that he had already been worrying about the dark cloud right before the first time travel, I have decided to keep things simple to assume that Harry experienced most of his interactions in the first alternate reality in the real world as well.

#The Other Malfoy #harry potter and the cursed child #fanfic #Harry Potter #scorpius malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Draco Malfoy #Ginny Weasley #family #hurt and comfort #HPCC-compliant #long story #HPCC sequel

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torestoreamends · 7 years

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Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: First Train Home

3.4k words, G rated

Scorpius is starting school tomorrow. He’s excited, but also terrified, because he’s never been away from his parents before. And of course there’s the biggest problem... How do you make a friend?

@ohscorbus gave me feels about lonely little Scorpius never having had a real friend before, and I thought that the train ride to school is probably the beginning of his first bit of real exposure to kids his age, people he could potentially make friends with. So this happened...

Thanks to @abradystrix for betaing!

It’s the evening of August 31st. In his bedroom at the Manor, Scorpius sits on top of his trunk and plays with the sleeve of his new robes. They’re laid across his lap, because he can’t seem to put them down, but the idea of just putting them on is terrifying. He’ll have to wear them for the first time tomorrow, and even though he’s been looking forward to this day for years, he’s not ready at all.

Hogwarts is a big, scary place, and he’s going to be alone. Technically he’s been alone his whole life, but even though he hasn’t met many people his own age, he’s always had his parents. But tomorrow he won’t even have them anymore. No parents, and no friends. He doesn’t even know how you get friends. Do you just… start talking and hope for the best? What if they hate you? What if they think you’re stupid? Or boring? What if they already have friends of their own and they don’t have room for you?

He hugs his robes against his stomach, which is swooping full of butterflies, and making him feel a bit sick. He’s so nervous that he feels a bit wobbly, like he’s teetering on the verge of crying, or hyperventilating. The issue of friends is such a huge and looming hurdle that he can’t see past it, and he feels like he’s running headlong at it, about to smash right into it, because there’s no way he’s ever going to get over.

He pulls the robes up to his face, and hides himself in them. The cotton is very soft, and a bit cold and stiff. They smell really good though. He’s always loved the way robes smell. A bit like magic, all crisp and crackly. Sometimes potions smoke will cling to them, and he’ll get whiffs of herbs, or fruit, or other more mysterious things. It’s always been one of his favourite things about getting hugs from his dad. And now he’s going to get to do his own magic in these robes. He’ll make his own potions, and his own spells, and his own memories, and-

His stomach churns and he curls up himself up into a little ball.

Tomorrow he’s going to get on a train and be whisked away. He’ll be out in the world on his own for the first time. Everyone will gossip about him. Everyone will whisper behind his back. No one is going to want him anywhere near them. Why did he always want to go to school so badly? It’s a terrible idea.

He’s lost so deep in worry that he doesn’t hear the knock on his door, or even realise anyone’s there, until a hand on his shoulder makes him jump. He jerks his head up, and finds himself face to face with his mum.

“Are you alright?” She asks, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “You look like you’re thinking.”

Scorpius wraps his robes round his hands. “Do you think I’ll be okay? At school? Do you think I can do it?”

She smiles and reaches out, stroking a hand through his hair. “You can do anything, sweetheart. Why are you worrying about it all of a sudden? You’ve been so excited.”

“I’m excited, but…” He shakes his head and unravels the robes from around his hands. He starts fiddling with the clasp instead, doing it and undoing it, the thread falling into place around the golden button, then releasing again.

“But?” Astoria prompts.

Scorpius slides off his trunk and sits beside her on the bed, leaning against her side. “There will be people there. I’ll have to talk to them. They’re going to think I’m weird. They’re going to think I’m… you know.”

His mum slips an arm round his shoulders and gathers him in. She’s quite well at the moment, so while her body feels a bit bony and fragile, her grip is comfortingly solid. “Whatever anyone thinks of you, you know who you are. You’re Scorpius, right?”

He nods and puts his head on her shoulder. “And you’re my mum, and Dad’s my dad.”

“Exactly. And you like books, and sweets, and history. You’re funny. You like Quidditch. You’re going to be just fine. You’ll have plenty to talk about.”

“But how do you make friends?” He asks, frustration turning it into a sigh.

“You talk to the people you sit with on the train, you talk to the people in your house, and the boys in your dormitory. No one knows anyone yet, Scorpius. You’re not the only person who’ll start off on their own.” She looks at him. “Think about it as a challenge.”

“I don’t think I like challenges,” he mutters.

His mum laughs and hugs him. “Yes you do. My brave, ambitious boy.” She kisses the top of his head.

Scorpius ducks, but doesn’t try too hard to escape. When his mum pulls away he stays sitting, rigid, inspecting his fingernails. “How do you just… talk to people? What if they don’t want to talk to me? Me specifically?” He looks up. “People don’t like us, Mum. People think we’re evil. People think I’m- They might just walk away. And I’ve never… I’ve never had a friend before. I don’t know how to…” he waves his hand, “do friends.”

“If they think you’re evil,” Astoria says, voice fierce all of a sudden, “then they haven’t taken time to get to know you. And if they’re mean to you, then you can do better. You deserve far better than them. Not because you’re a Malfoy, but because you’re a wonderful person, okay?” She looks right into Scorpius’s eyes, and he can’t help but nod, because he knows his mum would never be anything less than honest with him, especially about something this important.

“Okay,” he says. But it isn’t entirely okay. As much as he believes her, there are still a hundred doubts and worries and fears, swirling like a cloud of black wasps in his head. “But-”

“I’ve got you a present,” she says, not letting him get started on his tirade. “To help you out tomorrow.”

He sits up very straight, instantly distracted, excitement swelling up inside him. “You got me a present? I didn’t know I was getting presents!”

Astoria laughs. “Don’t get too excited. It’s nothing much.” She digs in her pocket and pulls out a little paper bag, with pink and white stripes. Scorpius breaks into a grin as he takes it and looks inside.

“Fizzing Whizbees! Shock-o-Choc, Pepper Imps, and Jelly Slugs.” He looks up at his mum. “You got me all the best ones.”

She smiles. “It’s a special day. And you know what we always say…”

“Sweets,” Scorpius sings, “they always help you make friends.” He beams up at his mum. “Thank you.”

She ruffles his hair. “You’re very welcome. I think you’re going to be okay. I have complete faith in you.”

Scorpius looks down at the bag of sweets in his hands, and nods. “I think I’m going to be okay too.” He gets up and tucks the bag of sweets into the satchel he’s going to carry tomorrow. “With sweets,” he says brightly, “anything is possible.”

The platform is a bustling mass of people. Scorpius pushes a trolley piled high with his trunk, assorted bags, and his new owl, Ariana. He’s already wearing his robes, because he hadn’t been able to resist changing into them the second he reached the station. The bag of sweets is tucked safely into his pocket, and he keeps stopping to check they’re there.

He’s too jittery with excitement and nerves to pay attention to anything other than the thick smoke, which billows over the heads of the crowd, the soft hooting of all the owls, and his disbelief at how incredibly beautiful the scarlet Hogwarts Express is in real life. He’s only ever seen it in books, but this. This is amazing.

He bounces up and down behind the trolley. “I’m here. I’m going to Hogwarts. Mum, this is the best day ever.”

Astoria smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t waste all your energy. It’s going to be a very long day.”

“I’m not going to run out of energy,” Scorpius says, looking up at her. “I’m going to eat sweets, and cauldron cakes, and pumpkin pasties, and- Can I get on the train now?” He looks up at his parents. His dad looks stiff, and almost as nervous as he’d felt last night. His mum is smiling, and holding his dad’s arm.

“I suppose so,” Astoria says. She releases Draco, and puts a hand on Scorpius’s shoulder instead. “Let’s find you a quiet carriage. Draco, dear would you bring the luggage? I’m not sure excitement, trolleys, and crowds necessarily go together very well.”

Scorpius shoots his dad a sheepish smile, then rushes off in the direction of the train. He’s never been so anxious and excited and ready to go in his life. The energy is coursing through him like blood, pounding in his ears and thumping in his chest. He’s going to Hogwarts. He’s going he’s going he’s going!

So overwhelming is his excitement that he’s completely impervious to the looks he’s getting. Heads turn and eyes follow him. People look at his parents through narrowed eyes. Astoria ignores them, head held high, all her attention fixed on her son. Draco stands tall and proud, but he feels the weight and sharpness of all those eyes as they pierce him like daggers, and he can’t not return at least some of the looks, glaring back at them. If they dare look at Scorpius the way they’re looking at him…

Scorpius weaves his way along the train, searching for a free compartment. It doesn’t take too long to find an empty one, and he hurries inside and takes the seat by the window. He’s joined by his mum a few seconds later, and his dad levitates the luggage inside just a minute after that.

“I don’t remember it ever being so busy on here,” Draco says, as he stows the luggage up in one of the racks.

“That’s because people always got out of the way for you,” Astoria teases. She turns to Scorpius. “Will you be okay? We don’t want to get in the way, so we should probably leave now.”

Scorpius looks around at the upholstered seats, the wood panels, and out of the window at the platform, which is a riot of magic and people and noise. He feels at home.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he says, smiling. He gets up and wraps his mum in a tight hug. “I’ll write to you,” he says. “As soon as the feast is over.”

“We don’t expect you to,” Astoria says, squeezing him in return. “But of course I’d love to know which house you’re in, and about all the friends you’ve made.”

Scorpius nods and draws away. “Of course.” He turns to his dad and hesitates for a moment, then he steps forward and hugs him too. It’s not as long or as tight, but it’s okay, and Scorpius feels braver afterwards. “Well,” he says. “Goodbye then.” He follows his parents to the door and watches them retreat down the corridor, then he goes back into the compartment and finds himself entirely alone.

He sits in his seat and stares out of the window, swinging his feet back and forth. This is it. He’s on his way. Now he just needs to find some friends.

People keep bustling up and down the corridor outside his compartment. Lots of people. Most of them older than him. They’re all very noisy, and they all seem to know each other, and the idea of going and trying to talk to any of them makes him feel slightly sick, so he stays in his seat and pulls a book from his satchel. Books, he’s discovered, are the best companions. Friends or no friends, he won’t be lonely as long as he has a book.

He’s busy rereading The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 when the door opens. Immediately he looks up, folding the book shut, and smiles expectantly at the newcomer. He’s a boy about Scorpius’s age, and he’s looking over his shoulder as he comes in. He sits in the seat opposite Scorpius, and only then looks up.

Scorpius gives him a bright smile and a little wave. “Hi!” He says.

The boy’s eyes widen. He stares at Scorpius, taking in the blond hair and grey eyes, then his gaze flickers up to the trunk in the rack. The name Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is embossed in gold on the leather.

“Sorry,” the boy says. “I-I forgot. I have to meet a…” he gestures to the door, “a friend. Um. Yes. Bye.” He gets up and flees the compartment, slamming the door behind him. Scorpius stares after him, stunned, but not surprised.

He’d known this would probably happen, but actually experiencing it… For a moment he feels like all his happiness is crumbling away, but then he shakes himself. No. That boy is not going to ruin his day. He deserves better than people like that, anyway. That’s what his mum had said.

He pulls his satchel into his lap and starts to search it for the sweets, rummaging through the pockets and down into the bottom of the bag. They aren’t there. There’s no paper bag and no sweets. He’s lost the gift from his mum.

Panicking, he starts patting himself down. He gets up and starts searching through his bags. He grabs his coat and checks every pocket, then he goes through the pockets of his robes. Only then does he find them. Of course, he’d put them in there so he could find them. How did he manage to forget that? Paper crinkles under his fingers, and relief floods him as he pulls out the little paper bag, still full of all his favourite sweets. It’s fine. He still has his best weapon for finding friends.

He tucks the paper bag back into his pocket and returns to his book. He fiddles with the marker ribbon, twisting it in his fingers, and when he next glances up he realises the train is already moving. They’re no longer in the station. Houses and gardens flash past. There’s a Muggle child riding a bike in one of the back yards that line the track, and they don’t seem to see the train as it passes. Maybe this train is magical. It probably is. There isn’t that much written about the history of the Hogwarts Express, Scorpius has checked, but from what he knows, everything points to it being far more than a mundane steam train.

Scorpius grins. For the first time he’s completely immersed in the magical world without his parents to guide him. He can go anywhere, do anything. He’s going to learn spells, and potions, and flying, and this is all going to be completely amazing.

He returns to his book and continues trying to memorise every detail of the theory behind Alohomora. If he’s going to shine in lessons he needs to know everything off by heart before he arrives. He wants to be the best, or at the very least adequate, and most of all he needs to do his parents proud.

He’s just thinking about drawing his wand and practicing some of the elementary wand movements, when the sound of the compartment door rattling open again distracts him. He looks up from his book and freezes.

A boy is peering into his compartment. A boy with unruly, jet black hair, and bright, emerald eyes. A boy who looks a bit pale and nervous. A boy Scorpius has only ever seen in pictures before; who is a bit smaller in the flesh, and who is the spitting image of his father to an even more incredible extent than Scorpius ever imagined.

He swallows hard and hardly dares to breathe. His hands tremble slightly with excitement, because this is an opportunity. Of course Harry Potter’s son will already know to hate him, will probably take one look at him and run a mile, but Scorpius is about to speak to a Potter. A real, live Potter. It’s a dream come true.

“Hi,” Albus says, looking at Scorpius and smiling, a little shaky with nerves. “I-is this compartment…” he gestures to the empty seats, and Scorpius’s heart races. Albus doesn’t recognise him. He doesn’t know, and he wants to come in!

“It’s free,” Scorpius says. He gets to his feet and grins. “I-I mean, it’s just me.”

“Great,” Albus says, stepping over the threshold and gesturing over his shoulder. “So we might just come in for a bit? If that’s okay?” He glances out at the corridor, then back to Scorpius.

Scorpius beams. “That’s okay!” He steps forward and holds out a hand. “Hi!”

Albus grins and shakes his hand. The grin makes the corners of his eyes crinkle up, and he shines. Scorpius smiles even harder in return, and cannot begin to believe his luck.

That night, he sits cross-legged on his bed in the Slytherin dorm, while Albus bustles around in the space between their beds, unpacking his things.

“Do you think I need my scarf, or should I put it in my wardrobe?” he asks, surveying the new green and silver scarf he’s been given.

Scorpius shakes his head. “No idea. Put it in the wardrobe. You can always get it out again.”

“I suppose.” Albus folds the scarf neatly and puts it in the bottom of his wardrobe before turning back to his trunk. “I’ll definitely need my robes, and my school shirt… and my tie, and…”

Scorpius tunes him out. He knows there’s a stupid grin on his face, but he’s just so happy he can’t bring himself to care anymore. He has a friend. Albus Potter is his friend. He has to keep pinching himself to convince himself this isn’t a dream. But it isn’t. It’s reality. He’s at Hogwarts, he’s in Slytherin, and Albus is here, talking to him like they’ve known each other forever.

While Albus carries on muttering and folding clothes, Scorpius pulls a bit of parchment and a quill out of his satchel, and starts writing a letter to his mum, because he’d promised he would, and because he can’t contain the overwhelming bubble of joy and relief any longer. It’s pressing against his insides, and he thinks he might explode if he doesn’t let it out soon.

Dear Mum,

I think this has been the best day of my life ever. You’ll never guess who I made friends with on the train! Harry Potter’s son, the one who’s in my year, Albus. He had no idea about the rumours, and I don’t think he really cares about them even now he does know. Also, your sweets definitely worked. We ate them together, and he liked the Pepper Imps best. Clearly he has good taste.

We sat together for the whole train ride, and we’ve been sorted into the same house, and we sat together at the feast, and now we have beds next to each other.

I really hope that maybe he’ll be my best friend. I think you have to take time to consider that sort of thing, because we’re going to learn a lot and grow up a lot this year, but… I really like him, and I want to stay friends with him, because he’s brilliant.

I hope you and Dad are well. I’ll probably write again tomorrow, to let you know how my lessons were. I’m quite excited about them. We have Transfiguration first thing! I suppose I should probably go to bed, because it’s going to be a long and busy day tomorrow. The problem is I might be too excited to sleep…

I’m so happy I’m here, Mum. I didn’t really expect to get here and have a friend right away. I thought it might take time, but I met Albus at the beginning of the journey, and since neither of us really know anyone else we’re planning to stick together. He’ll take care of me, I’ll take care of him, and hopefully we can help each other with our homework and things.

If this is what having a friend is like, I think I like it a lot…

Love you and miss you,

Scorpius

p.s. Albus and I are in Slytherin. I just realised I didn’t say, and I didn’t want you to panic and think I’d ended up in Gryffindor. I’m right where we expected, and I think I’m happy here. I can’t believe I have a friend in my house already! This really is the best day ever!

#Harry Potter and the Cursed Child #Scorbus #Scorpius Malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Astoria Malfoy #Draco Malfoy #Keep The Secrets #Mayhem to the nth degree #My writing #Sorry for the random Draco POV in the middle #I know I shouldn't do that but...#WHATEVER #Deal with it

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