When your buddy considers ditching you instead of saving you... x

just want a piece where demon harry gets protective/jealous of angel y/n in public when a guy starts flirting with her 🥺✊🏼

Y/N is naive, and Harry knows that.

He was more than well aware of her innocence when it came to others— of her default setting to constantly seek out the best in people and assume they are redeemable. That genuine, humanity-seeking drive is what had led to their relationship blossoming in the first place.

With that being said, he’s grown quite fond (and even thankful) of her optimistic tendencies. He loves how she can analyze a situation or a person and always manage to single out the positive aspects that are worth atoning. She has a hard-set belief that everything with a soul has an inherent capacity to be good, no matter how deeply buried that capacity may be.

But Harry begs to differ.

He’s been through so much in the past seven centuries that he can’t help but disagree with her ideals when it comes to the sincerity of humans. A soul may be created innately just, but it’s not hard at all to corrupt it. He himself— a demon; a twisted human soul— is a prime example of that.

All in all, his musings are a long-winded explanation as to why he should never leave Y/N alone at a bar.

Not when there’s tons of men milling around the establishment with everything but sincere, genuine intentions.

All he had wanted to do was to go retrieve his wallet from his car in peace. The deed didn’t take more than two minute, tops. And yet when he got back, one of those men was standing irritably close to Y/N as she sat with perfectly trained posture upon her bar stool.

Well, stand wasn’t really the right word for what the young man was doing. He was actually leaning against the counter on his forearm, facing Harry’s girlfriend with a knowing grin plastered across his annoyingly attractive face.

The mortal’s body language depicted his intentions pretty evidently— open stature, flirty eyebrow shrugs, flickering his stare at Y/N’s lips while lightly licking over his own, boyish giggling at whatever she was contributing to the conversation. All tools Harry himself had practically invented to aid him in getting laid.

And of course Y/N is blissfully ignorant to the point of it all do to her deep-seated notion of expecting the best from people.

Harry can tell by her comfortable expression and easy smile that she doesn’t suspect her company’s lascivious motives, nodding along to their exchange and laughing at his jokes without realizing that every time her eyes crinkle shut in glee, the brunette boy inches a bit closer to her.

Harry hadn’t noticed that his nails had pierced through the leather in his wallet until someone mistakenly thuds into his shoulder with a surprised, “Oop, sorry, mate.” He glances over his back with a casual nod of forgiveness, gaze skimming over his hands momentarily, leading to a double-take when he sees the black leather strewn with nail marks deep enough to cause obvious rips.  

“Oh, fucking hell...” He murmurs under his breath in a defeated sigh, scanning over his favorite accessory begrudgingly before tucking it into his back pocket.

It had been a gift from a close friend who’d slept with the CEO of Gucci and had managed to swipe it on the way out. In short, it has priceless sentimental value, and now it was ruined.

All because of some stupid hormonal stranger who had set their sights on his girlfriend.

Harry flashes his gaze upwards once again, running through different scenarios in his mind of how to handle the whole circumstance.

He could take the route he knows Y/N would want him to and be civil. Explain the misunderstanding and that she in fact is here with someone— someone with a short temper, inhuman strength, and violent inclinations— and that muscle tanks and jogging shorts aren’t the proper attire for a semi-sophisticated bar. He’d probably word it along the lines of, “The nearest frat house is a few blocks south.”

Or, he could resort to his usual plan of action when it comes to pests: instilling fear. His ink black eyes and bloody demon face weren’t meant to be party tricks, after all.

But as it turns out, it appears he won’t have to even lift a finger.

When his eyes focus back on their spots at the counter, Y/N and the stranger seem to be involved in a mild argument.

His demeanor towards her has changed completely, obvious in his indignant gestures and exasperated facial expression. Y/N is staring up at him in a type of confused shock with her mouth slightly parted, though Harry can see the boy’s explosive actions have rendered her speechless.

Much to Harry’s joy, the young man grabs his drink as he shakes his head incredulously at her, turning and stomping away.

Stomping straight in his direction.

Harry’s not sure what comes over him, but it propels him forward, his pent-up anger bubbling up from the pit of his stomach and filling his mouth with a sour taste. The force ends up driving him to slam into the other brunette’s left shoulder.

He hadn’t meant for it to be too harsh, but he forgets his strength at times. Especially when his feelings are clouding his judgment, and especially when it has to do with Y/N.

Harry barely feels the bump, but he knows it had packed quite the punch when his opponent reels sideways abruptly, drink ending up all over his hideous neon blue tank instead of in his mouth.

“Oh, fuck— I’m so sorry, man!” Harry really should’ve taken up the director of Titanic when he’d offered him one of the leading roles all those years ago at a drunken Hollywood party; lying and pretending tend to come easy to him. “I didn’t see you at all!”

The man, already on edge do to striking out with his girl, looks up with a glare so deep and menacing that Harry thinks it’d give Lucifer a run for his money. ”Why don’t you fucking watch where you’re going, you dipsh—“

The words lodge in the boy’s throat when instead of being met with Harry’s own eyes, he’s met with his chin. Harry looks down at him over his cheekbones, trying his best to fight off a smug grin as the shorter man slowly tilts his head back to lock eyes.

Harry almost snickers as he sees the guy’s rage melt away, Adam’s Apple bobbing nervously.

He raises his eyebrows in question, the corners of his lips curving up in a sinisterly arrogant smirk at knowing he has the upper hand in the encounter. Harry fills his voice with innocent curiosity, but the undertone holds a snarky bite. “What was that, mate?”

“N-Nothing!” The bar-goer struggles to get the words out, his voice rising a few pitches. “It was my fault, I should’ve been more careful. S-Sorry.”

“Right.” Harry scoffs at him with an air of superiority and amusement, shrugging lightly. “Happens to the best of us, yeah?“

The man nods almost frantically, eager to get out of the situation, but Harry’s having the time of his undead life toying with the poor lad.

He leans down just a tad to come face-to-face with the young adult. “And to be fair, you probably didn’t see me coming. No one walks looking up, do they?”

With that last dig, Harry side-steps the stranger and gives him a playful pat on the shoulder as he sweeps by, but he’s definitely aware of how much strength is behind the gesture this time. It tickles his ego as he feels the man’s body struggle to maintain its footing under the weight of his own hand. “No hard feelings.”

Harry’s quite proud of himself for how he had handled it because he’d managed to find common ground between Y/N’s practices and his own. Public humiliation is the best of both worlds, in his opinion.  

“Didn’t get into too much trouble while I was away, did you?” Harry’s hand reaches out to gently press against the small of Y/N’s back, his lips finding her temple and sponging a loving kiss against the steady pulse.

She looks up at him with mild unfamiliarity that quickly molds into comfort when she recognizes it’s him. Her voice sounds slightly distracted because of what she had experienced, but her tone is dismissive. “Not at all. Just a random little misunderstanding with someone, but it’s all good.”

“Oh?” His face fills with faux, concerned astonishment as he leans forward casually onto his forearm against the counter, free hand softly tucking a loose strand of hair behind his girlfriend’s ear and thumbing over her bottom lip admirably, sweetening his voice into a fond, flirty drawl. “Hard to believe anyone would ever get angry with such a pretty doll face like yours.”

Y/N huffs in amusement at his compliment, knowing full well the objective behind it is to frazzle her. Her eyes roll a bit as she shrugs her brows, but she instinctively reaches up to brush the shell of her burning ears. “Yeah, well, his intentions weren’t pure and I actually have a boyfriend.”

Harry licks the edge of his mouth jestingly, one of his eyebrows flicking upwards. “Do you, now?”

Y/N matches the playful glint in his rosemary jade eyes. “I sure do. He should be around here somewhere....”

She trails off, pretending to look over Harry’s head to spot her imaginary date.

He lulls his head to the side, pouting his lips into a childish frown, voice full of fake disappointment. “Does that mean I don’t stand a chance?”

She gnaws on her bottom lip to keep from bursting into a round of giggles, mouth twitching with the effort of keeping the little game going. “Why don’t you buy me a drink and find out.”

Harry looks up towards the ceiling thoughtfully, tilting his head from side-to-side as if mulling over her suggestion. He releases an airy sigh, gifting her a crooked, teasing simper. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, I suppose.”

He flags down the bartender, ordering two of the most elegant, expensive drinks he can find on the menu.

His includes dragonfruit pulp mixed with champagne and butterfly tea, while Y/N’s is something much more intricate, including gin, champagne, mango purée and a scoop of raspberry sorbet, all served atop a beautiful wine goblet carved out of ice.

The way her face lights up when she tastes it makes every nerve ending in his body fizzle and pop.

Harry pulls out a few twenty dollar bills, telling the server to keep the change as he takes the ice straw in his champagne flute into his mouth, sipping his fruity drink happily with his hand resting protectively on Y/N’s outer thigh.

“You got a new wallet?” She inquires with excited wonder, speaking over her own straw as her view glimpses down pointedly at the aged, brown leather Michael Kors piece he had left opened atop the counter.  

“Oh, yeah!” He scoops it up, flipping it closed before she has a chance to see the ID in the clear card-slot at the center of the wallet. “I forgot to tell you!”

Harry holds it up before her, twisting it from either side to show it off.

“Looks really nice. I like the gold detailing around the brim.” Y/N smiles and nods approvingly, using the straw in her glass to scoop up a bit of mango purée into her mouth. “Very fancy.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a catch.” Harry knowingly smirks down into his drink, eyes reflecting midnight black against the purple liquid.

“Where did y’get it?”

“A gift from a friend I bumped into earlier.”

Transformers/Back To The Future #1

Transformers/Back To The Future #1 IDW Publishing 2020 Written by Cavan Scott Illustrated by Juan Samu Coloured by David Garcia Cruz Lettered by Neil Uyetake    Great Scott! Marty McFly has just returned from the adventure of a lifetime to a new, better Hill Valley⁠—everything's looking up for him! That is, until Marty and his friend Doc Brown's time machine attracts the attention of the Decepticons! With one small mistake, Marty finds himself once again thrust into adventure to stop the Decepticon plot in the past, present, and future... all with the help of a new time machine... the Autobot, Gigawatt!    I kept going back and forth on this one as I wasn’t sure that a crossover would actually work.  Then again I am also a fan of the recent Transformers/My Little Pony crossover so I guess anything in the entire world is possible.  Also Cavan is writing this and I have been a fan of his work for quite some time now and he’s one of those whose work regardless what it is is something that you read.  So when I finished this issue I was a tad flabbergasted, how every part of this story worked and worked so well is just something astonishing to witness.      The way that this is being told is outstanding.  The story & plot development that we see through how the sequence of events unfold and how the reader learns information is beautifully laid down.  The opening for example is perfectly done, we see Marty in the Delorean and it takes me back to the theatre seeing him outrace someone to get away.  The nostalgia effect is priceless and the way that new readers can see this is just classic and when you factor the Decepticons it just adds a whole new layer of intrigue.  The character development is so spot on and you don’t even realise it till later because you are so caught up in the moment you forget to think twice about it.  The pacing is superb and as it takes us through the pages revealing the story full of its twists and turns it’s easy to see how well everything works together to create the story’s ebb & flow.    The way this is structured and how we see the layers within the story begin to emerge and culminate at one heck a great cliffhanger ending is just masterfully done.  I found myself enthralled, engaged and enchanted by what I am seeing within these pages and honestly I hadn’t expected that to happen at all.      The interiors here are fantastic!  I like the way that we see the linework and how the varying weights are being utilised to show off the detail work, especially in the Transformers.  I love the style of the work here as well as it brings us this high end Saturday Morning Cartoons feel that just makes this that much more believably fun!  I like my backgrounds to be fully utilised because of what I feel they do for the moment among other reasons.  The backgrounds here are where that comes into play and to this here is beyond amazing.  The creativity and imagination that are on display here is phenomenal.  The utilisation of the page layouts and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels show this amazing eye for storytelling.  The colour work that we see is also extremely well rendered.  How we see the various hues and tones within the colours being utilised to create the shading, highlights and shadow work is rather quite impressive. ​    These are the real hidden gems these days.  Team-ups or crossovers that seem to be incredulous but in reality are the very kind of story that we’ve needed to see.

HKT48 HS event report 08/06

You know how you feel when you’ve been waiting your entire life to do something, when you’ve been desiring it and wanting it so badly, and then it happens and you are there, completely astonished and incredulous and unable to tell if that’s real life or a dream? That’s what has been happening to me the last few days. 

Yesterday I met with Haruka. Now, you’ll probably think: “you’re being overdramatic. ‘Cause you’ve been oshing her only for little less than a year. There’s people who’ve been into her for far longer time”. And yeah, you might be right. But time doesn’t really measure how much someone can love someone else. I’ve fell so strongly for this girl for one specific reason: because I love who she is. I love her as a whole. And meeting her has been... one of the best, and at the same time terrifying, experiences of my entire life. 

We arrived there veeeery early in the morning, first lane’s started around 9AM I think, but Haruka’s first one wasn’t gonna open until 11. So we waited. And it was raining and the weather was kinda scary, but more than for the weather, I was scared of what was gonna happen next. I was afraid I was gonna mess up with my Japanese, or simply forget how to speak at all, and look like a complete idiot. I hadn’t slept at all the previous night. I was too excited and hype for the event, I really wasn’t able to close my eyes for longer than a couple of hours max. I was tired and I probably looked like shit. So there was that, too. I prolly looked like a zombie and I really didn’t want to scare her. 

My friends tried to comfort me as best as they could, and eventually, the time came. I was wearing a white cap with “ITALIA” written on it, and the Italian Flag on my shoulders, like a cloak. I didn’t have any goodies with me because I had arrived to Fukuoka the previous evening and I was tired and I really didn’t have the strength to go shopping in some HKT shop. So my plan was buying goodies there, but I had been so caught up in all my thoughts that eventually the time for the HS event came and I didn’t have anything that stated that I was an actual Haruka-oshi. 

So fuck me. 

I always thought that it takes forever to meet the girls once you get in line because there are always so, so many people, even if the meetings last few seconds, it must’ve taken 15~30 minutes to meet them. So that added further to my panicking because I was afraid I wasn’t gonna be able to use all my tickets. Well. I was right on the time spent waiting (kinda?) but I was totally able to use all my tickets all 5 rounds. 

Before I report what we told each other all five rounds, let me tell you: she is gorgeous. She is exactly how I imagined her. She even smells the way I imagined her! She is... I don’t even know how to describe her. She is everything I’ve always been saying about her, everything she has always been saying about herself, too. If you’ll ever find yourself in Japan and applying online to meet the girls, please, by all means, go meeting her too. It’s 100% worth it. 

1st round, 2 tickets. 

Me: *walks in* Me: *heart literally racing inside my chest* Me: He-Hello.  Haruka: Hello!  Me: It’s my first time... I come from Italy... Haruka: eh~ italy! Me: I mean, this is my very first handshake event ever.  Haruka: Eh~ really?  Me: Yes. So you’re the very first member I’m meeting, also. Haruka: eh~ I’m happy! Your Japanese is impressive! Me: thank you, I try my best... *time’s up* Me: I will come back.  Haruka: see you later~

So that was really awful. I could see her checking my clothes for a moment and probably wondering why I wasn’t wearing anything that gave away who my oshimen is. As usual, she was super easy to read. And her smile was beautiful. 

I wanted to talk about more interesting stuff, so while I waited in her lane to meet her again, still in the first round, I wrote down on my phone the things that came to my mind that I could ask her (including some of the things you guys suggested me). I was still super excited, but I ordered to myself to keep my cool and stop looking like a complete idiot. 

1st round, 3 tickets. 

Me: I’m back! Haruka: yay! Me: Sorry if I’m not wearing any Haruppi-goodies! I’m planning to go buying some to the goodies location right away!  Haruka: It’s ok~ Me: so, I remember you saying you wanted to try italian food, am I right? Haruka: Eh, when did I say that? I mean, I do wanna try it, but I can’t remember when I said that...  Me: *laughs* at your own seitansai, last year.  Haruka: eh~ *makes move as if she’s trying to remember very hard* well, you’re prolly right!  Me: *makes very weird sound* Haruka: what was that!? Me: Nothing, it’s just, you’re seriously too cute! Haruka: eh~~ thank you! I’m happy!  *time’s up* Me: I’ll be back with Haruppi goodies! Haruka: okay~ I’ll be waiting~

For the second round I only had 3 tickets to use, so I had all the time to go to the goodies location and buy this Bagu-tteiijan ver. fan with Haruka’s face on it and a towel with “Kodama Haruka” written on it, which I put around my neck (despite it was HOT), and then put myself in line for the meeting. 

2nd round, 3 tickets.

Me: Hey there! Haruka: oh~ you bought the goodies! Me: Told ya! I’m Haruppi-oshi, after all. Haruka: *smiles* I’m happy! Me: *stares at her smile for what feels like an eternity* Me: SO... um, how... um... How have you been lately? How’s your health? Haruka: I’ve been good!  Me: That’s nice. Have you gone out with Jurina yet?  Haruka: EH?! No, why??  (※I swear to god, her reaction here was priceless) Me: Well, she said you two were going out on a date* again once you were felt good again.  Haruka: Ah~ right! Fans told me! Jurina-san is so nice, isn’t she! Me: She sure is.  *time’s up* Me: I’ll be back~ Haruka: ‘kay~

*Japanese people use the word “date” very non-chalantly. They don’t mean it always in a romantic/love-interest-ish way. So that’s why I used it (and besides, if I’m not wrong, Jurina used it too when she talked about Haruka, once). 

I thought about telling her how much  worried and sad I felt when she was feeling sick and she was away for 2 months, but then I thought that, knowing her, it would’ve only made her feel more guilty and miserable than how I am sure she’d been feeling the entire time when she even decided not to run for the election, so I changed my mind on that. 

3rd round is when I got to exchange few words with Sashihara, too. I had 5 tickets, so I went for 2 the first time and 3 the second, as usual. 

3rd round, 2 tickets. 

Haruka: You’re back~ Me: I am~ Me: So I watched the TIF yesterday! Haruka: oh~ thank you! Me: you girls did great! And it was super fun to watch with Nako-chan MCing and everything. Haruka: I know right? Nako-chan was super cute! Me: yeah... But you were super cute too. I spotted you in the back line! Haruka: *embarrassed* I’m happy! *time’s up* Me: I’ll be back~  Haruka: bye~

Then Sashihara speaks up all of a sudden as I’m about to leave (she was in the lane right next to Haruka);

Sashihara: hey! you ever read the manga Hetalia? Me: *is super surprised*  Me: *looks at Haruka, then at the security guy* Me: um, no? I haven’t. But I know the title.  Sashihara: Well, you should. ‘Cause it’s pretty funny, you know.  Me: I will...  Me: *waves at her too* Sashihara: *waves back, smiling*

3rd round, 3 tickets

Me: So, have you ever read Hetalia? Haruka: Ah, the manga Sashii recommended you before! Me: yeah Haruka: well, no, I haven’t read it. But I heard it’s funny, too!  Me: yeah, I had a friend in Italy who used to watch the anime. She said it was funny too. Haruka: you watch anime in Italy!?  Me: ...yeah... *laughs* Haruka: That’s amazing, what anime? Me: Ghibli, Naruto, Dragon Ball etc. Haruka: eh~~ so nice~~ Me: I’m gonna try and watch some episodes of Hetalia too, by the way. Although I heard there are some yaoi couples in there. Haruka: eh~ really? do you like those kinda things? Me: Not really. I prefer yuri.  *time’s up* Haruka: EH!?? YURI??!!  Me: .....yeah? is that bad? Haruka: no, no... just, there aren’t many girls who like yuri, you know. i was surprised.  Me: you had yuri experiences too, haven’t you? Haruka:  Haruka:  Haruka: See ya later!

I WAS LITERALLY DYING OF LAUGHTER IN THE INSIDE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE FACE SHE MADE, LIKE SHE WANTED TO DIE TOO. I WANTED TO BURST OUT LAUGHING BUT I COULDN’T ‘CAUSE I THOUGHT THAT MIGHT’VE BEEN DISRESPECTFUL ‘CAUSE FUCK WE’RE IN JAPAN BUT I SERIOUSLY YOU HAVE NO IDEA I WANTED TO DIE WITH HER SO THAT SHE WOULDN’T HAVE FELT ALONE (?????????) 

so I go back, and it’s the 4th round, and tbh I was starting to feel really tired. I mean, I never stopped to feel tired since, like I said, I hadn’t slept at all the previous night, but with the excitement and everything else I had been able to kinda put the tiredness away for a few hours? but now it was coming back and I wanted to go home and fall asleep, but at the same time I never wanted to leave that place. Ever. 

4th round, 2 tickets

Haruka: ah, ITALIA-san~ Me: you can go with -chan. We’re actually same age. Haruka: we are? Me: yeah, I’m from 1996 as you and I was born 5 days later than you.  Haruka: that’s amazing!  Me: Yeah... Talking about birthdays, your last theater stage was during your seitansai celebration, wasn’t it? On January? Haruka: yeah :( *times up* Me: Do you have any idea when you’ll be performing again? Haruka: I don’t...  Me: *as I’m walking out* I’ll be looking forward to your next theater performance! Haruka: same here~

for the next meeting, it was almost 6PM. Haruka had been doing that for almost 7 hours, she was understandably tired, too. So, as much as I wanted to keep bringing up that “yuri” related topic, I didn’t wanna be a bitch and so went for lighter, non-weird topic for conversation.

4th round, 3 tickets

Me: are you tired? Haruka: A little bit...  Me: thank you for always meeting us with a smile! Haruka: *smiles*  Me: So you said you wanted to try Italian food, right?  (※I mean, what better topic than food to cheer her up a little bit?) Haruka: that’s right! Me: what kinda food would you like to try first? say you were in italy right now, what would you eat first? Haruka: eh~~~ that’s super difficult!!  Me: *laughs* I know, right? Haruka: SPAGHETTI! Me: Spaghetti ?! But you can eat those here too! Haruka: yes but made in italy are gonna be even better! Me: yeah, you’re prolly right.  *time’s up* Me: I’ll be back! Haruka: *smiles*

This was the last round. I made sure she knew about all her foreigner fans and how much we care about her and love her even from so far away.

5th round, 3 tickets. 

Me: You know, there are many other foreigner fans who wanted you to know that they love you! Haruka: eh~ really? Are they your friends? Me: Some of them. But they come from all over the world and all of them love you even if they are so far away! Haruka: that’s nice to hear~ thank you! and thank them on my behalf, too! Me: of course. we’re gonna keep supporting you, whatever happens. Meroppi until the very end! Haruka: ei~ei~oh~ Me: ~oh~ *time’s up* Me: I’m gonna be back one last time~ Haruka: got it~

5th round, 2 tickets. 

Haruka: Hey~ Me: Hey... This is my last... :( Haruka: :(  Haruka: Are you gonna go back to Italy now? Me: No, I-- I’m gonna stay in Japan a little longer. You know, to visit some places... Haruka: oh~ have you already eaten some of Fukuoka specialties? Me: Not really... I came yesterday night and I was too tired to go out.  *time’s up* Haruka: I see. You should try the Mentaiko when you can! Me: Murashige? Is that you? Haruka: *laughs* I know right? That’s Murashige’s character.  Me: Hope to see you again someday~ Haruka: me too~ bye~

Insufferable Gryffindors

Summary: Harry and Draco get caught in the act by no less than five Gryffindors, but at least Draco looks good.

Word Count: 1.8k

ao3

“Like that?” Harry grunted above him, moving his body in such a way that had Draco arching into him, a whimper escaping from him that he would surely deny later.

“Yes,” he whispered, his hands scrabbling for purchase against Harry’s body. “Yes, yes!”

They’d been doing… well, whatever this was, for almost two months now. Two months of sneaking around and pressing each other against walls, of tugging one another into alcoves and touching each other frantically. Two months of Harry sneaking into his dorm in the middle of the night under his invisibility cloak; two months of Harry entrusting him with the very same cloak so he could sneak up to Gryffindor tower, so he could climb into Harry’s bed while all his friends were asleep.

Two months during which what had started out as just sex had transformed into something more. Draco found himself tugging Harry into alcoves only to ask him if he’d managed to master Flitwick’s latest assignment after all, or if he’d managed to finish McGonagall’s essay without his help (“Because I’m not helping you write your essay again, Potter!”). And he couldn’t help grinning when Harry snuck into his dorm only to persuade Draco to go somewhere with him, whether it be the kitchens or the library, usually under the guise of an “adventure”.

Of course, the sex was still good too, even though their relationship was now more than sex alone.

“Fuck,” Draco gasped, hastily sliding his hand into Harry’s hair and pulling. He loved Harry’s hair—it looked horrible always, and Harry didn’t give a flying fuck no matter how often Draco told him it looked like their were rats nesting in it, but its appearance didn’t stop it from feeling heavenly. Draco had discovered the joys of tugging on Harry’s hair very early in their relationship.

“Hey Harry, how’s about a game of—”

Harry quickly stopped moving, making panicked eye contact with Draco as Weasley continued speaking. They were panting, hard and sweaty and practically shaking from holding themselves still, and Weasley was on the other side of the hangings.

Grabbing his wand, Harry dismantled the silencing charm and cleared his throat. “Er—better not, Ron,” he said, sounding genuinely sorry. Draco felt oddly vulnerable having Harry’s cock up his ass while he conversed with his best friend. “I’m not feeling too well. Sorry.”

“What?” Weasley said, sounding concerned. Draco glared towards the curtain. They hadn’t expected to be interrupted, seeing as they’d snuck up here during dinner. Unless it’d really been that long already…? “Is that why you weren’t at dinner? Do you want me get some—”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry said, sounding a bit strained now. Of course, that was Draco’s fault for clenching around him, but he couldn’t help it. He was quite close, after all.

“Ron?” Granger’s stupid voice called, sounding as if it was getting closer. Draco threw his head back and directed his glare at the ceiling and the world in general. He was just trying to get properly buggered—why couldn’t he have even that?

“Hermione!” Weasley responded, sounding relieved. “Harry says he sick, I was thinking maybe we could go down to the kitchens—”

“Those poor house elves have worked enough,” Granger snapped, before she seemed to register the first half of the sentence. “I know a few spells anyway. One for stuffy noses, and another for upset stomachs. I even have one—” She broke off as loud footsteps thundered up the dormitory stairs.

“—and did you see the look on Filch’s face? Priceless!” Finnigan was saying, Dean Thomas’s signature laugh following directly after. Draco heard it often enough during breakfast, even when he was on the other side of the hall. The two somehow defied the concept of being tired and quiet in the mornings.

“Hey, why are we all gathered around Harry’s bed?” Thomas asked, his and Finnigan’s voices abruptly cutting off from whatever story they were retelling.

“Fuck,” Draco whispered, turning his head to the side and exhaling heavily. If only they had Harry’s cloak in here… but it was in his trunk, outside the hangings. Harry looked just as awkward and embarrassed as Draco felt. Moving slowly and carefully, Draco managed to dislodge Harry from himself, pulling the blankets around his waist immediately after.

“Harry feels sick,” Weasley provided helpfully.

“Oh, is that why he skipped dinner?” Finnigan questioned. “What’s wrong with you, Harry, mate? Would something from Filch’s confiscated drawer cheer you up? Because Dean and I—”

“No, I’m good,” Harry said loudly. “Just—gonna sleep it off, you know?”

“What a coincidence!” Longbottom’s voice suddenly joined in. And when the fuck had he gotten here? “Trevor’s been feeling sick too! Do you think there’s something going around?”

“People can’t get sick from frogs,” Finnigan said incredulously.

“He’s a toad!” Longbottom responded, offended.

“Actually,” Granger butt in, “there was once this case of Toadmoles that—”

“Hold on,” Weasley said loudly, suddenly interrupting Granger. Longbottom whimpered something that sounded suspiciously like Toadmoles?

“What is it?” Thomas asked. There was silence for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” Harry called, curiosity apparently getting the better of him.

“Harry,” Weasley said slowly. “Is there someone else in there with you?” Silence.

Draco only just managed to keep himself from gasping, and he and Harry exchanged startled looks.

“What? No!” Harry responded, sounding passably incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe the suggestion. He was still kneeling above Draco, though thankfully he was no longer inside him, and he ran his hand softly over Draco’s stomach, making his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure. It wasn’t even sexual, he just liked it when Harry touched him; it didn’t matter where.

“Well, It’s only—there’s two pairs of shoes out here,” Weasley responded. There was a sudden flurry of gasps and startled noises outside the curtains, quickly followed by,“Good one, Harry!”

“Fuck,” Harry whispered, glancing towards the edge of the hangings. Now that he thought about it, Draco did recall the two of them toeing off their shoes before tumbling into Harry’s bed and discarding the rest of their clothes.

“Who is it?” Finnigan demanded, apparently having just as much class as Draco would’ve expected him to have.

“Er—” Harry tried. “I accidentally duplicated my shoes?”

“Oh,” Weasley said easily. “Well then—”

“They’re two different sizes,” Granger interjected quickly. Harry cursed.

“Wait, are you—right now?” Finnigan asked, and Harry choked.

“Of course not!”

“We stopped when you all so kindly interrupted us,” Draco drawled, and the entire room turned silent.

“Is that—?”

“Was that—?”

“Malfoy?!”

Draco pulled Harry down onto the bed and tugged the covers up over his lap, before grabbing Harry’s wand—his must’ve rolled off somewhere during their… activities—and flicked the curtains open. It revealed an array of Gryffindors, all looking thoroughly astounded.

Draco was carefully reclined on the mass of pillows on the bed (some of them were his, actually. He’d gotten tired of Harry’s relentless pillow-hogging, not to mention the fact that more pillows was always better than less), his entire side pressed casually against Harry’s. He was aware that his hair was sweaty and a mussed, that his chest was flushed and pink. He was also aware that he looked damn good caught in the act.

“Harry…” Weasley said, frantically looking between him and Draco as if trying to understand why they were in the bed together. “What? How long?”

Harry’s face was redder than Draco had ever seen it, and he suspected that maybe he should’ve warned him before exposing their activities to the room. But he liked dramatic reveals, and taking the time to warn Harry definitely would’ve ruined it.

“Two months, Weasel,” Draco answered. Weasley was avoiding making eye contact with him, and he was pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that he and his best friend were naked in a bed together. And possibly because they’d been doing it for two months now, which Weasley now knew.

“Well, that does explain a few things,” Granger said finally, her head cocked to the side as she stared somewhere past Draco, not really taking in her surroundings.

Longbottom just looked a little frightened, and Finnigan and Thomas appeared more entertained than anything else. He could almost imagine what they would be saying when they left the room… And did you see the look on Ron’s face?!

Looking queasy, Weasley finally spluttered, “And you’ve been doing… that… in our dorm?!” Harry, finally getting his whits about him, just shrugged.

“We put up silencing charms.”

“I was wondering why you’d starting sleeping with your hangings closed…” Finnigan finally said thoughtfully. Weasley looked even more like he might throw up.

“Well, seeing as you’ve all done such a spectacular job of ruining the mood,” Draco interjected, using Harry’s wand to summon his underwear, which he slid on under the blankets. He then climbed out of Harry’s bed, tugging on his trousers as he looked at Harry. “I’ll see you later, okay?” And mainly for the audience, Draco leaned down and kissed Harry on the mouth, before stalking out of the dorm, still buttoning up his shirt and with his tie in hand. (Luckily, he’d found his wand on the floor under his shirt).

Walking through the Gryffindor common room was an experience, all the go-happy Gryffindors staring at him in astonishment, evidently wondering why the fuck a Slytherin was in their house. Draco just sneered at anyone who made eye contact with him before climbing out of the portrait hole.

And later that night he returned, having not received any owls telling him not to. He already knew the password and he walked, relaxed, passed everyone in the common room.

Once in Harry’s dorm, he avoided looking at or talking to any of the other boys, all of whom were doing various activities in the room. Draco walked into the bathroom and brushed his teeth next to Weasley, who said nothing, before departing once more and climbing into Harry’s bed.

“Well that was an experience,” he said finally, and Harry snickered into his ear, warm breath spilling across his skin.

“They’re all fine with us, you know,” he said softly.

“Good,” Draco said with a sniff. “Otherwise we’d have to start going to my dorm more often.”

“Mmhm,” Harry mumbled. “Would you like some pajamas?”

Draco ignored him and crawled to the end of the bed, snatching Harry’s pajamas from his trunk himself. He made eye contact with Weasley as he pulled on an old quidditch jersey of Harry’s, the word ‘POTTER’ splayed on the back. Weasley just gave him a tentative smile, and Draco smirked. Having his relationship with Harry not being a secret anymore might’ve been the best thing that could’ve happened.

Draco couldn’t wait for breakfast; he was going to make Harry sit at the Slytherin table with him.

Yer a Werewolf, Remus

PART 1/3

Read the Full Story on ArchiveOfOurOwn  http://archiveofourown.org/works/11614782 

James wasn’t a stalker--at least not in his own imagining of what a stalker was--but he had certainly developed some pretty grade-A stalker strategies in the past few months. For instance, James had a secret calendar that he only worked on with Sirius and Peter (or, really, that he worked on with Peter by association only, since Peter rarely helped--he was kind of just there). What were the contents of this secret calendar, you ask? Oh, only the whereabouts of their other best friend, Remus Lupin.

So, okay, that sounded like some serious stalking, but James was convinced it was for a good cause. None of them quite bought Remus’ inconsistent excuses for where he disappeared to so often, so they took figuring out what was wrong into their own hands. They’d been tracking his absences from school, looking for a pattern.

James had the calendar spread out before the three of them on the dormitory floor. He chewed on the tip of his quill, observing the days of the month associated with the absences. Remus definitely disappeared around the same time each month...then another marking on the calendar jumped out at James, a little circle.

“Hey, guys…” he began hesitantly, pointing his index finger at the moon symbol. “Does it seem like...like Remus is always gone at the full moon?” James asked, looking up suddenly.

Sirius had been momentarily distracted from their task at hand by the leaping toadstool he had nicked from herbology class. And how amusing it was to hear Peter squeal when he plugged it into his nose.

“Erm..” he responded distantly without removing his eyes from the pitiful leaping mushroom that was now bouncing from Peter’s scalp to his nose. Despite his lack of full attention, the information soon came to settle somewhere in his brain.

“Hang on..” he said, this time with investment as he looked up at James. “We did realize that he was disappearing monthly, right? Do the dates line up with the full moon?” He asked as he scrambled through earlier versions of the chart, going back into the spring of last year, which had been their first year at Hogwarts.

Peter frantically tried to extrecate the toadstool from his nose, “Sirius!” he whined. James chewed on his lip, paying Peter and Sirius’ antics no mind for the moment. He looked for the little moon marking on the pages as Sirius flipped through them. The calendar sheets had just come printed with the marking, James hadn’t really thought anything of it...until now.

“Yeah…” James confirmed, his voice hesitant, contemplative. “The dates all seem to be during and around the full moon.”

“The night of and day after, to be exact…” Sirius said quietly as he surveyed the chart, his eyes scalding with alacrity. He looked up at James with an astonished, thrilled gaze. This was the most significant breakthrough they had reached to date. He sat up from his relaxed pose on the floor to a more alert position with his legs crossed.

“What sicknesses relate to the lunar cycle?” Sirius asked breathlessly as he pulled over their tome on magical diseases and maladies. “What are Remus’ symptoms?” he asked, grabbing his quill and beginning to make a list on a stray piece of parchment, saying them aloud as they revealed themselves in his mind. “Exhaustion...weakness… malaise. Those are post-full moon..” His handwriting was nearly illegible but James and Sirius didn’t need the script to remember.

“I don’t see what any of this would have to do with the full moon,” Peter said dismissively.

James, meanwhile, remained quiet, nodding as Sirius spoke. “That sounds right,” he said, flipping through another one of the wizarding medical texts they’d taken out of the library. James looked up “moon” in the glossary, trailing his finger along an unfamiliar word--it instructed him to turn to the entry for lycanthropy. On a whim, James chose to turn to this term over all the others that were listed under “moon.”

“Oh…” James uttered aloud as he read the description--lycanthropy was simply the technical term for the condition of, well...being a werewolf. He resumed biting down into his lip, glancing up at Sirius. Was it insane to even mention it? He cleared his throat.

“This, ah, this says a condition related to the moon is...being a werewolf,” he said. “I mean, duh,” James added as if to lighten the mood. “Let’s just see--let’s see what it says happens to people afterwards. You’d think they’d be all...strong and aggressive, right?” he reasoned, and then didn’t fit Remus at all. “Following the full moon,” James read aloud. “Werewolves often experience exhaustion, malaise, illness, muscle pain, and general weakness and aches of the body.” he trailed off, looking up again at Sirius.

At first, Sirius snorted with disbelief, then grinned. “Remus? A strong, aggressive werewolf?” he sniggered incredulously at the image. “That’s almost as fucked as Peter being a Gryffindor.” he scoffed but his grin vanished the moment James began to read off the exact symptoms he had scribbled down.

“That...I mean--those symptoms could be common for loads of…” Sirius attempted to justify the coincidences, but for once, words failed him. “Erm…I guess I dunno..” He said blankly as he swallowed hard, his expression becoming somber.

But he did know. The similarities of symptoms and timing of Remus’ disappearances had too many uncanny similarities to lycanthrophy to be coincidence, and even as Sirius tried to dismiss the suggestion something inside him had completed the puzzle. He just didn’t want to see it. If they were right, which they must be, then every month Remus would transform into a killing monster, at least, that’s what he had been told about werewolves. And for how long had this been happening to him? Surely, the boys had recognized that Remus was suffering and that it must be something terrible if he would lie to his best friends to keep it a secret, but this is a completely different inconceivable level.

Sirius suddenly felt overwhelmingly sad. He met James’ gaze, knowing by his expression that he was experiencing similar thoughts.

James held Sirius’ gaze for a moment, then looked away, ruffling his hair, both in contemplation and in a somewhat anxious way. It made sense--the absences, how sick and frail he looked when he came back, the secretiveness. James’ mind played through every stereotype, every prejudice of what a werewolf was that he’d heard growing up--he’d always taken it for granted that they were monsters, since that’s what every story portrayed them as, whether fictional or real accounts from The Prophet, and it was how everyone talked about them.

Nonetheless, James had to let go of these conceptions, because he couldn’t reconcile them with what he knew of Remus. He’d never really considered that a werewolf was a normal person for most of the month--or that they weren’t just scary grown-ups like Fenrir Greyback, but potentially kids like Remus.

Taking a breath, James broke the silence. “Well, when all’s said and done, Remus is probably the least monster-like of all of us, so I suppose all that stuff everyone says about werewolves is just rubbish,” James concluded.

“Wait, I still don’t get it,” Peter said. “What are you lot talking about werewolves for?”

Sirius listened to James and nodded his head eagerly. “Definitely.” he agreed with resolution. They knew Remus all too well to think otherwise.

His thoughtfulness ceased abruptly when Peter opened his mouth. “For fuck’s sake…” he groaned. “You really are a daft cow. Do I need to spell it out for you? With illustrations in case the words are too big for you?” Sirius spat impatiently.

“Remus is a werewolf, you dim git.”

He turned back to James with his composure returning. “And we have to help him. Right?”

Peter’s eyes looked as if they were about to bulge out of his head. “A werewolf, but they’re…”

James held his hand up, effectively cutting Peter off. “Don’t finish whatever was about to come after that but. We all know what werewolves are supposed to be, and we also all know who Remus is,” he resolved, not wanting to entertain even a moment of negativity against Remus. James fixed his eyes intently on Sirius and nodded. “Of course,” he said determinedly, then leaned back onto his elbows, surveying the books they’d already taken out. He sighed, “I think we’re going to need some different books.”

~~*~~

James was lounging on his bed in the middle of one of their research powwows several weeks later, reading a book he’d nicked from the forbidden section of the library. He was munching on chocolate frogs as he did, carelessly getting his chocolate covered fingers all over this priceless text that probably dated to the Middle Ages or something. He suspected this might be the very reason why some of these books were forbidden in the first place--they weren’t all about dark magic, so it was probably more that the school didn’t want twelve year olds like James messing them up. But it was a necessary sacrifice--the chocolate got James’ brain working.

“Wait, so, animals can’t be turned into werewolves, even if they get bit by one?” he asked, looking over at Sirius, not even really bothering to address Peter. James was never totally sure what Peter did during these “study” sessions, but he never contributed anything worthwhile.

“So...Could I turn into a Werewolf by eating Remus’ food?” Peter asked once again from his bed as he continued to stuff Remus’ peppermint toads into his unhinged mouth.

Sirius had lost count of how many times Peter had asked them that. Considering how close they were to developing a plan to help Remus, he was currently in the midst of one of his frustrated states--And when Sirius was frustrated, someone had to suffer. This time (well, most of the time, really) it was Peter. Sirius was now lying with his back to the floor with an absurdly large and boring book levitated just above his face. As he finished scanning each section, the page would automatically turn itself.

“I swear on Merlin’s beard,” Sirius growled slowly. “if you ever ask me that ever again I will stuff those toads so far up your arsehole that you’ll have to chew them and swallow them back down. If you’re not going to help us then at least shut your bloody face before I enchant the hairs on your head to lace your mouth permanently shut.” Sirius snarled.

James rolled his eyes and quietly marveled at what it must be like to want peppermint toads so badly you’d be willing to risk becoming a werewolf; not that you could become a werewolf by sharing food with one, obviously, but still. Peter’s uncertainty implied he’d been willing to take the risk.

Peter hid behind his bed curtains, whimpering softly. He hesitantly glanced out at Sirius, who returned his look with a fiery glare.

Sirius was mid-glare when he remembered that James had spoken to him--immediately his expression relaxed. He sat up onto his forearms and looked thoughtfully into something James and Peter could not see for a moment.

“Erm, I dunno but...” He considered this concept, continuing to mentally search. “I mean--if you think about it, loads of animals have to coexist with werewolves. I’ve never heard of a were-beaver or some shite.” he sniggered. “It must only infect humans.”

James chewed thoughtfully on his lip. “And if animals can’t get it...there are ways for wizards to turn into animals, right? Like McGonagall!” James jumped up into a sitting position in excitement. “Remember when she transformed from the cat on the first day of class?” he asked excitedly. “What was that called again? We could do that! Then we could at least keep him company!”

“ANIMAGI,” Sirius burst out, his eyes wide with thrill as their eureka moment came to manifest. “THAT’S IT. We could become animagi!” He stood up, his heart pounding and began to pace the room in thought. “Not many people have done it but it’s obviously possible. And wizards certainly must have done it without having to register.. And then We could stay with Remus the entire time and he couldn’t possibly say no since as animals he won’t be able to infect us. You and I can figure it out, James. Let’s fucking do it.” He finished with a grin.

“B..b..but.. wait...We’re not registered..” Peter squeaked. “Dumbledore wouldn’t let us register….”

Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed. “We’re not going to register--As I just strongly implied, you dundering sloth. And Dumbledore’s not going to know. No one’s going to know..and no one’s going to tell.” He finished, eyeing Peter. “McGonagall must have books on it in her private collection..something to point us in the right direction.. One of us could schedule a meeting with her and distract her and the others could just take a look..”

“James..” Peter said in a pleading voice (realizing he was his only chance) as he sat on the end of James’ bed (making it sink on the side he was sitting on). “T..this is a bad idea.. We could get expelled, James.. We could go to Azkaban! This is illegal! I don’t think…..Sirius is just being….--”

Sirius snorted and interrupted him. “--We’ll put it to a vote then. Naturally, Peter chickens out. A true Gryffindor through and through. James, what do you say, mate?” he asked eagerly.

James beamed at Sirius, boldened by the encouragement and confirmation that this could work, they could do it. He turned to Peter as he spoke, his grin diminishing slightly, but only into a wry sort of smirk. “Peter,” he said as if reasoning with a petulant child. “We’re not going to register and we are certainly not going to tell Dumbledore anything,” he said, nodding in agreement with Sirius. James’ expression turned grave as Sirius insisted no one told, his eyes focused steadily on Peter in that moment, unblinking.

“Do you think it’d work if we told her another class assigned us an essay on our favorite professor? We could interview her on being an animagus, how she did it. Maybe she’ll mention a few books and we can find them,” he suggested, then bit his lip, his thoughts growing ever bolder. “Or…” he trailed off for dramatic effect. “She may still have something in her office, and we do have an invisibility cloak,” James pointed out.

Peter’s only chance proved to be not much of a chance at all. James’ mind was utterly made up. “We won’t get expelled and no one is going to Azkaban,” he said dismissively. “Merlin’s beard, Pete, they don’t send kids to Azkaban. If we get caught--which we won’t--we plead ignorance. Say we forgot you had to register,” he shrugged, leaning back into his pillow. “Knowing Dumbledore, he’ll be impressed.”

“I’m in,” James said swiftly. “I’m all in.”

Sirius’ smirk curled and the fire in his grey eyes flickered.

To Be Continued