#Auror Harry Potter

[blvnk-art]

Harry, auror.

#harry potter #auror harry potter #potterbyblvnk

[perciren]

The Auror Partners AU I’ve been wanting to draw for way too long

#drarry #Drarry art #harry potter fanart #Harry Potter art #hp fanart #auror partners #Auror Harry potter #Perfect team #Chaos team tho #Just a lil sketch #I got more #I need to clean them #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Resting Rumors

Rule one as a new Ministry recruit, avoid Harry Potter. He's rude, mean, intimidating and grouchy. Except—wait—why is he smiling? Wait, he's married to who?

Ao3

#Drarry #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Established Relationship #Auror Harry Potter #Harry is grouchy #and a little mean #unless you're Draco #or their son #Scorpius Malfoy #XxTheDarkLordxX Writes #Advent Month day eight!

[ghostly-penumbra]

Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King

Chapter One: Traditional way

[Here] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Ao3

Summary: Harry makes a nice acquitance... in a dark wizards raid, of all places.

Warning: Attempted murder.

- - -

Harry ran down the dilapidated manor’s hall, with his best mate watching his back as they approached the eerie room lit only by candlelight.

They pressed themselves against the wall, with Harry taking the lead and his wand ready, listening to the chanting go on.

Whatever these dark wizards were summoning, it was powerful, and they couldn’t just barge in and cut it out, that would just end up activating the defensive drawings in green ink all over the place and that wouldn’t end up nicely.

(They had done their research, unfortunately for their foes, and knew they could enter in an exact certain moment, when the ritual became welcoming, but right before…)

“And now we present this sacrifice! For only death can call Death!”

“Now!” Harry commanded in a low voice that only Ron heard, and they entered the chambers wand blazing, with the rest of their squad following close behind. “Expeliarmus!” He bellowed, making the dagger held by the dark witch soar through the air and fall to the floor with a clatter.

A myriad of colours flew through the air as spells were cast, with their light reflecting on the cold stone walls.

“Depulso! Protego!” Harry yelled, sliding next to the unconscious muggle tied down to the stone table.

“Bombarda! Mate, cover me!” Ron began casting, seeking to undo the magical bindings as well as the muggle ones.

In between the battling and the arrival of the back-up Aurors, Harry and Ron could be excused for not noticing the ground shaking right away, or how the candle lights flickered before turning green…

“Potter! Weasley!” Kingsley Shaklebolt yelled at them whilst fending off two opponents at once. “What’s going on?!”

What they knew he had actually asked, though, was ‘Why is it going on? Didn’t you just stop the sacrifice? Is that person dead?’

Ron took a limp wrist in his grasp and said, “It’s still beating.”

“Sir, the ritual wasn’t completed!” Harry reported to his superior, then hastily put up another shield. “It shouldn’t have worked…”

“Oh, but he’s here!” One of the dark wizards said, a manic gleam on his face, right before Ron knocked him out with a desmaius.

Above them, green clouds began to spread in a spiral, thundering and glowing, slowly bringing out a royally-clad figure.

Ron, now carrying the victim bridal-style, looked at him with apprehension.

“Go.” Harry said firmly.

“But-”

“Ron, go!” Harry looked pointedly at the unconscious muggle in Ron’s arms, and his best mate reluctantly relented, and took off running towards Kingsley.

“Bow down before Pariah Dark! King of the Gho-!” The frantic cry of joy was cut short when Harry sent a knock-back jinx at the witch.

The Man Who Lived stood straight, staring at the coalescing mist with his jaw set, ready to face Death down once again.

-

Danny opened his eyes and found himself in a room(? Chamber?) full of people in various states of consciousness, with the ones awake looking all at him.

“Uh, hi…” He said with a little wave of his hand.

The guy closest to him looked him up and down with a serious face.

“Uh, can someone tell me where are we?”

-

The magic world never really stopped surprising Harry, but that was alright, because it seemed to keep surprising itself as well. Take for example Phantom, the Ghost King, who seemed unable to stop fidgeting as he floated next to Harry.

“So, uh, can I leave, officer?” The boy asked.

Harry lifted an eyebrow. “You are not detained, I just need to ask you a few questions. Besides,” he eyed the flaming crown perched atop his head (which was quite big for him, and looked about to fall down his head and end up as a collar), “I don’t really believe I have enough authority as to detain you.”

The boy king put a hand on his nape and pursed his lips, so clearly not used to this that Harry took pity on him and chose to be straightforward.

“Why did you come here?” He started. “The ritual wasn’t completed, no one died, so why- how did you get here?”

“Oh, well, I still don’t know much about that, but I think I got an idea.” The boy looked at him seriously, and continued. “These guys tried to summon the Ghost King, but their information is outdated, just a bit; the last King accepted sacrifices, but I don’t, they are anathema to me and my Obsession.” He explained. “I think that’s why it worked, I mean, it probably wouldn’t if they had actually killed someone, but outside of that, their stuff was pretty solid.”

Harry watched as emotions crossed the boy that died’s face, seriousness, solemnity, anger… then calm, and lastly, sheepishness again.

“You’re not doing as they say, then.” Harry barely asked, and mostly stated. “If the blood sacrifice didn’t tie you to them, you can do as you please.”

“Yeah, I guess so…”

Phantom looked around, and Harry looked around, and when their gazes met again, there was an understanding only a pair of trouble-magnets could share.

“Say, did they even know how to summon me, officer…?”

“Auror.” Harry corrected.

“Officer Auror.”

“No, that’s- you know what? That’s okay.” The dead Kin seemed to notice Harry’s brief struggle, but chose to ignore it and let Harry “Auror” Potter answer. “They had this book, an old thing, really, rather fragile, with all these dark spells and rituals and stuff. A lot of drawings of clouds and doorways…” That actually interested him, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting more answers from the teen.

“Shame if something happened to it and it… disappeared.”

“Shame indeed.”

They shared a moment of silence, barely a minute.

“Well, officer Auror, it was nice meeting ya but I got stuff to do back home.”

“Oh, no, how could I possibly physically stop you?”

“You can’t.”

With a little wave, King Phantom disappeared from sight, far neater than Harry’s Invisibility Cloak and was soon replaced by questions and exclamations from his fellow wizards.

Later, Harry would find out about an important, dangerous book disappearing into thin air.

For now, though, he just smirked and huffed out a laugh.

“Long live the dead King.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Harry Potter #Ron Weasley #Auror Harry Potter #Auror Ron Weasley #Ghost King AU #Summoning Shenanigans #crossover #Danny Phantom Crossover #Harry Potter Crossover #ghostly-scrypts #crossposted on ao3

[joonkorre]

fill a form, wait in line

@drarrymicrofic prompt: different

Can the same route lead to a different destination? Certainly. All he has to do is get off at another stop.

But the train keeps on going, the doors are locked, and Harry is glued to his seat. AO3

Harry wakes up, mist and absolute silence surrounding him. His feet lead the way.

****

One month after his twenty-fifth birthday, Harry marries the love of his life.

The wedding takes place on the Northumberland coastline, a compromise they reached after debating whether to conduct the ceremony on a Quidditch pitch halfway across the continent or the Hogwarts courtyard. It’s overall a grand affair, with long wooden tables and burgundy centrepieces and flora emerging after every step down the aisle. Ginny has splurged on a chiffon dress that she’d never wear normally but is perfect for the theme. Harry’s allowed paparazzi for once. A wedding like this belongs nowhere except on the front page.

The kids come soon after. Ginny leaves the naming to him, and naturally, he names all three of his angels after the people they should look up to. There’s never a peaceful day with them running around, especially not when the Granger-Weasley siblings come over. Even then, Harry has to duck his tear-stained face into his wife’s neck as their youngest, Lily, boards the Hogwarts Express for her First year. Like everyone else, they adjust to the too-empty house and fill their calendar.

The young grow taller and the old crouch lower. Charlie flies over to attend Harry’s retirement party, and they laugh about the kind of back pain that magic can’t cure. By that point, James has already found himself a fiance, Ginny has been years into her full-time gardening hobby, and they’ve moved places four times. Albus comes home for weekly dinners and Lily visits once in a while, bearing souvenirs and a grin. 

Life goes on just like that for a few decades. When people ask, Harry always replies that as expected, he’s perfectly content.

At 125 years old, Harry passes away with his loved ones all around him.

****

“I like to think free will is the necessary condition of being human, yes.”

Harry nods, sure as can be. Sure as death and taxes, as the white of King’s Cross.

“You say that every time,” the train driver says.

“Do I?”

“Is there free will in this?” There are tickets in the train driver’s hand, all punched in the same incomprehensible shape.

The question is easy and Harry has an answer to it, but somehow it feels odd to say. His seat jolts a bit. Looking around, his eyes widened. He doesn’t remember getting on the train.

“Where’s your next stop?”

The train driver is gone, and Harry doesn’t need to leave his compartment to know that every other one is empty.

“Wherever I arrive,” he says to the white ceiling. That, too, is routine.

****

One month after his twenty-fifth birthday, Harry celebrates his and the love of his life’s anniversary.

Ginny doesn’t mind him being distracted throughout their date as she already talks enough for the both of them. Such a great girlfriend she is. Thus, it feels logical for him to ask for her hand in marriage by the end of the night. He never checked her ring size to buy a ring, and Ginny doesn’t mind either.

Their wedding is elegant. Held in the Italian restaurant they regularly dine in, they have just over 100 guests present. No paparazzi. When Harry reads his vows, he can’t help thinking about how quickly he finished drafting them the night before. Words flowed like the lines he wrote in detention. Some guests cry when he’s done, which isn’t all that surprising. If anything, the food is decent. 

Harry and Ginny make the perfect couple. They don’t fight, they share responsibilities equally, and they respect each other’s personal space. Even then, Ginny gets her knickers in a twist on occasion about how easy-going Harry is, how he doesn’t have his own opinion on important life decisions and just agrees with her. His usual reply would be “Shouldn’t that make me the ideal husband?” It doesn’t improve the situation, but it does get Ginny to not talk to him for a day.

He’s promoted to Head Auror in due time. He gets to King’s Cross every September for his three children despite his busy career, even if watching the train disappear into the distance feels wrong somehow. He doesn’t know what to make of it. Ginny comments that it’s the only time he displays real emotion anymore. He’s uncertain about that as well.

Life goes on, as it does. There’s a throwaway fiasco with a Time-Turner, but it resolves itself out. Ginny switches from her Quidditch career to being a sports editor due to her injured legs. The children get over their teenage rebellion phases and grow to become capable adults. Both he and Ginny retire at some point. Hermione and Ron visit once in a while.

If anyone asks, Harry’d say he doesn’t remember much of the past few decades. He’s not sure if this is resignation or acceptance.

At 125 years old, Harry passes away in his sleep.

****

“I like to think free will is the necessary condition of being human, yes.”

“You say that every time,” the train driver says.

“Do I?”

The train driver closes the cabin door, and Harry’s reaction to suddenly being on the train is more instinctual than real.

“Where’s your next stop?”

Harry answers without thinking, staring at the lack of scenery outside. Suddenly, so powerfully it punches the breath from his lungs: dread.

****

One month after his twenty-fifth birthday, Harry asks the love of his life if they can get a divorce.

“No, we’ve only been married for two years,” Ginny argues, her eyes red. “Whatever’s wrong, let’s work this out together, okay?”

Harry genuinely has no idea why he was in such a hurry to propose years ago, as if he felt the edges were fraying and had to be fixed. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her. So he agrees. They work it out together. Neither of them mentions it to anyone else.

They have kids. Three, all named after proper role models. The children turn out okay, more or less, as they ought to. Since he’s a parent, Harry finds himself standing at King’s Cross every year, his wife quiet behind him, both waving at lingering black puffs of smoke as the Hogwarts Express gets farther and farther. Then they head home and clean and go to work. They fight a normal amount.

At some point, Hermione and Ron have gotten tired of him. It’s not an unexpected development, but it’d be a lie if he says it doesn’t sting. On Ginny’s part, he knows she works overtime most nights at the publication because Lavender fulfils her emotional needs. Harry cycles through being a Ministry worker, a floo technician, and a businessman, trying to find something new that he can feel accomplished about. None meets the criteria, and he’s toeing that line between frustration and apathy.

The kids pay their visit sometimes, during which he finally musters enough energy to face their resentment. He’d yell things just to yell and feel his breathing pick up and yank gravelly coughs out his sandpaper throat, and it’s then that he remembers he’s human again. In nanoseconds, he wants to ask himself why he “worked things out,” why Ginny hasn’t filed for a divorce, why everything is the same in only different packaging, why he even has these questions.

If anyone asks, Harry’d say he needs to go. Go where, he doesn’t know either.

At 125 years old, Harry dies alone in a motel room.

****

“I like to think free will is the necessary condition of being human, yes.”

“You say that every time,” the train driver says.

“Surely not,” Harry replies, and it feels like he’s wading in the deep end. “There must’ve been times when I say something else. Do something else.”

The train driver is silent.

“Right?”

Harry blinks, opening his eyes in time to spot the moment he steps over the threshold, one foot still on the station platform. The world tilts just a few degrees, and he turns his head right.

Whistling so high it’s comparable to a screech, the train barrels straight toward him.

****

One month after his twenty-fifth birthday, Harry responds to a joke from the love of his life.

“What, are you getting cold feet?” Ginny smirks, a slice of pizza halfway into her mouth.

Harry stares at her. “Yeah.”

She meets his gaze without anger and only sets her food down. When the first tears drip from their faces and splatter on the table, it’s deliverance. 

“I guess you do seem different lately,” Ginny says hours later, curled up against him with her ankles brushing his. The world is dark outside their window and their canceled wedding is a week away. “After your birthday, you look agitated all the time and… I don’t know, but a part of me was preparing for it. My reaction earlier was way milder than it would’ve been otherwise.”

Harry combs his fingers through her silky hair, quiet.

“Do you regret your time with me?” He eventually asks. “I know what I did was unfair, being the one to ask for your hand in marriage just to…”

“Come on, sound it out,” Ginny pats his cheek. “I actually don’t regret it. Live and learn, y’know? And I’m glad to know that you’re a good boyfriend but a shite husband. Better now than years later, by which point I’d probably kill you for wasting years of my life. Or maybe not. That’s worse, probably.”

She shifts and yawns a bit. “How about you? Do you regret our relationship?”

His heart breaks. Harry’s never been honest with her about how he thinks he’s been playing out a script all this time, how he’s less the captain and more the ship, unable to do anything but let ocean waves steer him about. He doesn’t plan to tell her that tonight feels like a breakthrough for him either.

“Not at all,” he says. This, he can be honest about.

People don’t take the news lightly, least of all the Weasleys. Ron socks him in the jaw, hard, since he was the one helping Harry surprise Ginny with the proposal. Harry’s still seeing stars when Molly finishes digesting the news, her face turning to the shade of Weasley red and her wand clenched to the point of shaking. Amidst it all, Harry laughs. An exhilarated, visceral laugh that makes his entire body lock up, the kind he doesn’t even think he's capable of. Ginny stops her frantic explanation to gawk at him, then she laughs as well. Harry is only banned from the Burrow for two weeks.

Harry pivots from Auroring to entering college. Being a Ministry worker straight out of Eighth Year, Hermione admits to feeling shocked that he’d be the one to choose that route. But she helps him relearn how to study, cries at his graduation ceremony, and lets him borrow her owl to send his teaching certificate to McGonagall. It’s with a raised brow, but the Hogwarts headmaster shakes Harry’s hand with barely concealed pride after their interview.

The entire time spent in the Auror Department is insignificant compared to the joy he feels when a Sixth year finally smiles, watching her first Patronus bounce across the room.

September comes. Returning students greet him as they walk past on platform nine and three-quarters. Flipping through a muggle magazine, Harry looks up and scans the crowd periodically. His brows furrow. He checks the suitcase guarded between his calves to ensure that no student-led prank got through. Spotting none, he goes back to his magazine, forgetting about the passing thought that someone is absent. Shortly after, the train arrives.

A new school year starts, and starts and starts and starts, until fifty-something years have passed and he’s taught DADA in every way thought possible. He’s participated in a few studies for novel Dark spells, refined the construction for certain defense procedures, dealt with Howlers from parents, so on and so forth. He’s also dated throughout the years, but no one sticks by him for quite as long as the towering stacks of paperwork in his office. Even then, working with cranky, hormone-filled students has divorced him from the notion of having a family of his own and bringing that issue under his roof.

But he likes his career. He likes his career, and when he announces his retirement, students hug him with red, teary eyes. Shy First years come up to him and confess that they were going to pick his class as their siblings did. Current professors who used to sleep during his lectures now shake his hand and bow.

If it hasn’t been abundantly clear to him over the past decades, it's clear now: Harry Potter is more than a child soldier. He is a beloved teacher.

Retirement is spent around the Weasleys and other retired colleagues who have little left to do but cackle obnoxiously in a pub. That goes on until he’s had enough of charming his own joints to keep working each day, so he hires a private caregiver. Janet is Ginny and that Belgian fellow’s grandchild. She’s snide enough to make him feel less like a burden; she has this uncanny ability to procure any tome or scroll he wants, no matter how esoteric; and she makes excellent sandwiches.

One day, he wakes up with the distinct knowledge that time will stop for him soon. He says—or mutters—something of the kind to Janet, and she sits down with him.

“Didn’t eat much these days,” Harry sniffs. Janet fixes his blanket and doesn’t look surprised when he continues. “Been seeing these. These little children.”

“Do you now?”

“They’re good kids,” Harry pats her hand. Smacks his dry lips and coughs a bit. “Say, why don’t I...”

It’s how he starts every book request. Janet hums patiently.

“Why don’t I have one of those yearbooks? In ‘98.”

“1999, old man.”

Harry grunts in annoyance, but she’s right. When she returns an hour later, poking out of her bag is a purple-bound book with silver embossments.

“You sure there’s nothing else you want to get?” Janet questions as she prepares afternoon tea. The other Weasley kids will visit soon along with Hermione, now wheelchair-bound and prone to napping. He ought to show them the yearbook.

“Eh,” Harry croaks, and Janet nods.

His knobbly hand slowly flips through the pages, feeling the slightest texture of yellowed years beneath his fingertips. Faces that might as well be anonymous as they are familiar, names that are no more than black-inked words, events and titles that are now footnotes in time. He sees himself and his friends repeatedly throughout the yearbook, mouthing the same words every ten seconds or walking across the frame in a loop. How these pictures were taken without him noticing, he has no idea. Or perhaps he’s forgotten. Anywho.

He skips to the index at the end, where everyone in his year (all forty of them, if one can believe it) is crowded into four pages, each dedicated to a House. The students who were absent in Eighth Year were included using their photos from years prior, lest the four pages reduce to two. Such youthful faces. If it’s not for the statues and books about him littering wizarding Britain, Harry would be more surprised at his appearance at eighteen. Sullen, angry, wounds all licked up but far from healed. He shakes his head. That boy would rather use that copper badge to hex anyone he thought was a criminal than meet a shrink.

Everyone else seemed just about what he expected. It does feel nice to put a face to hazy memories though, so he flips to the Slytherins. In front of the camera, they shed their signature smirks, and what remains is a veneer of bored arrogance he reckons only old money can don. His eyes shift to the centre of the page. They stay.

How curious.

“Jan.”

“Hm?”

“Y’know a… a Draco Malfoy?”

What makes Janet Gillard one of Hermione’s favorites is that she co-edited every new Hogwarts: A History edition until about thirty years ago. To this day, she can recite the names of every student and staff present at Hogwarts during the Final Battle.

“A who?” She speaks over the boiling kettle. “Malfoy? That line died out in the 1980s, why?”

He closes the yearbook. The doorbell rings and Janet strolls over to open the front door. When his guests come in, they bring gifts and stories to entertain him with, brightening instantly when they spot the yearbook on his lap.

He doesn’t say much as he watches them read through it, showing him and a smiling Hermione whatever they find interesting. Eventually, they reach the index, saying something about whether the Longbottom child was anything like her great-grandfather, or if the Patils have all moved to the States. When they get to the Slytherins, the chatter lessens, albeit out of respect for their elders who have dealt with these students in the past. Their gaze doesn’t gravitate to that one specific spot, their breath doesn’t stutter. Like nothing is amiss.

If anyone asks, he'd say, "That's not right." But no one does. His eyes slip to the ceiling, throat dried. He gasps.

At 125 years old, Harry dies along with the white, fleshy void of Draco Malfoy's face behind his lids.

****

“I like to think free will is the necessary condition of being human, yes.”

Harry opens his eyes to an empty corridor, the train floor rumbling beneath his feet.

“Don’t I?” He asks himself, curious.

A rattle nearly sends him bumping into a compartment, and his limbs finally move, carrying him forward. His footsteps echo in waves. Dust motes float about, the ancient air too stark a contrast to the white, almost sterilized environment of the Hogwarts Express. 

The train car is too long, and Harry doesn’t know how long he’s been running. There’s no sweat on his body despite the strenuous activity, his heart rate remains nonexistent, and once he realizes this, he forces his breath to quicken. Green eyes strain, flicking every which way. This is how it’s supposed to be, but it’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

Far ahead, the minuscule vanishing point that the train corridor converges to eventually widens. His chest heaves in relief. Ever closer, the door has a window big enough for him to see into the cab beyond—and the driver. Harry pushes his legs to go faster. Something flares in his chest, stabbing and red-hot, sounding like fabric shifting and air whipping when he wrenches the driver around by his blue-clad shoulder, makes him look Harry in the face. But he's still running, and his hand grabs air.

Sensing something, the driver’s head turns to the side. Then he stands, leaving his seat and striding toward the door. Harry is two, three paces away. The driver’s gloved hand lifts to hook a finger on the blinds, on the verge of pulling it. One more step. Harry’s hands slam against the metal—body shuddering through the shock—and his eyes lift to stare through the window.

The pulled-low cap shifts a fraction of an inch, but Harry sees it. Wrinkled brows, a panicked glance. The rest of his face is covered behind the uniform’s overly high collar. Snap, and the blinds are down.

“Stop derailing it,” the train driver’s voice surrounds Harry.

His body sags against the door, eyes shutting no matter how much he tries to do otherwise. But he sees it anyway.

Pure silver.

****

One month into his twenty-fifth birthday, Harry stares down at the contract on his lap.

“Thursday next week, we’ll—Harry?” Robards snaps his fingers. Harry doesn’t jolt, and his head lifts to face the frowning Head Auror. “Training hasn’t even started and we’re getting distracted already? Focus.”

“I,” Harry starts. He says nothing more, just now registering the quill against his palm, smooth and waiting. Beneath it is the empty space where his signature goes.

At Harry’s silence, Robards shoots him a warning glance before continuing the speech. Something about schedules, benefits, duties, important missions that need someone full of potential like Harry to come and solve. Didn’t know why Harry was dithering about instead of joining the Aurors immediately after Eighth Year, seeing as the department offers mind counselling as well, but one can’t fault a young man for enjoying his prime while it lasts. Harry will get back on track soon enough.

The floor rumbles below Harry’s soles. He looks up from the contract, but Robards is still leaning against his cherry wood desk, unaffected, and nothing trembles. Shifting his gaze to the large artificial window behind that desk, Harry scans the manufactured blue sky and the looping white clouds. Realistic they may be, but he can never forget that he’s underground.

The white of those clouds feels too much. Almost clinical. Harry blinks at the thought, eyes aching, and it turns out he hasn’t blinked in a while. Robards has moved on to anecdotes, Harry can vaguely tell. Staring at the clouds for this long does something odd to his sight. A sheen of static-like specks fills his vision like every other time Harry stares at something until it becomes incomprehensible. But it’s different now. Why, he doesn’t know, but something changes.

Harry inhales. Stale air that didn’t exist before in this office fills his lungs, and a section of his brain sparks. He exhales. Metal heaves in his ears, ageless machines pumping a way through the fog. Always one designated way.

The air is back to its scentless quality. Harry tries to remember how it was earlier when something else floated through his nose and into his system, but memories slip past him. Maybe it’s not even a memory. Brows knitting together, Harry clenches his eyes shut and forces himself to read through the contract once more.

Words stop making sense. As his eyes flit across the parchment, Harry thinks of death, of lingering, of a tattered veil swaying in windless space, of whispers from the depth. The contract feels heavy in his hand, the quill too rough. Cold sweat dripping down the back of his nape, Harry’s head whips up so fast Robards stops talking. He doesn’t look at the Head Auror but at the clouds.

Pure silver is all he can see.

“Harry, what’s going on with you—”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” he starts. This time, he keeps going. “But I don’t think the Auror Department is right for me.”

Meeting Robards’s eyes, Harry smiles.

“Before I stop wasting your time, do you know the process of applying for the Department of Mysteries? Particularly the Death Chamber?”

#drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #hinny #auror harry potter #[redacted] draco malfoy #death but both temporary and permanent #not reincarnation either #pre-relationship #more mystery and misery than actual romance #IM BACK BABYYYY #been nearly a year since my last microfic lmao #but we ballin #in my surrealist era #joonkorre writes

[rurikkirur]

An exerpt of Chapter 30 of DMATAC! <3

#drarry #fanfic #harry x draco #hpdm #draco and harry #draco x harry #my fanfic #my ocs #oc #original character #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #auror harry #auror harry potter #private investigator draco #spy draco #my fic writing #my fanfiction #my wips #my writing #fic wip #wip #current wip #work in progress #wip stuff #mascarade #mascarade ball #dmatac #draco malfoy and the aeternum caput

[hp-lawofattraction-fest]

The FOUND of this pair:

Finding my Way to You

Creator: suhtmuikkis Sub-theme: Found Rating: Teens and up audiences Word count/medium: 12611  Warnings/tags: Auror Partners, POV Draco Malfoy, Fluff, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Draco Malfoy, Kissing Summary:

A routine spell check gone wrong. A series of events that feel somewhat off, and yet familiar.

Read it on AO3!

Then get LOST in its opposite by @wqtson

#hplawofattractionfest #loaf #hp fests #lawofattractionfest #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #gift exchange fest #harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #auror harry potter #auror draco malfoy #lost and found #found

[sybill-the-seer]

Auror Potter

#harry james potter #harry potter #harry potter fan art #hp fan art #fan art #auror potter #auror!harry #auror potter fan art #auror!Harry fan art #auror harry potter #auror!harry potter #my art #digital art #photo editing #art #sybill does art

[nelweensfic]

The last case

This is a full fic based on 10 prompts from @drarrymicrofic ! I'm sorry guys, I don't why but I wrote more than 50 words 😂 thank you to @purplehotmess for beta reading this story 🧡

WARNING: Explicite NSFW content, blood, biting

Summary : Twenty years had passed, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are respectables Aurors. One night, during those full moons Harry hated much, a vampire came at Harry's door, changing his life forever.

Here the table of content (I'll update it everyday)

Chapter 1 : prompt "Full moon"

Chapter 2 : song prompt "The darkness that you fear" by The chimical brothers

Chapter 3: Prompt "Kind"

Chapter 4: song prompt "I put a spell on you" by Nina Simone

Chapter 5: prompt "Eyes"

Chapter 6: prompt "Frame"

Chapter 7: prompt "Found"

Chapter 8: song prompt " Sally's song" from the movie Nightmare before Christmas

Chapter 9: prompt "Unconditional"

Chapter 10: song prompt "Bones" by Imagine Dragons

#drarry #nelweensfic #fic #drarry fic #fic based on prompt #vampire au #trans draco malfoy #auror harry potter #vampire case #harry x draco

[dewitty1]

The Cursed Manor

AhaMarimbas

 @mars-bar81

Chapters: 16/16 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, George Weasley, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Curses, Haunted Houses, Discussions of Pure-Blood Prejudice, Quests, Sentient Magical Houses (Harry Potter), Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, implied/referenced drinking, Implied/Referenced Ministry Corruption, Brief Mentions of Queerphobia, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Ginny Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Effects of childhood trauma, H/D Erised 2022, Background Poly, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, POV Outsider, POV Draco Malfoy, Curse Breaker Harry Potter, Unusual Career, Gay Draco Malfoy, Enemies to Lovers, Ensemble Cast

Summary:

Ophelia’s been a paranormal investigator for almost ten years, and she’s starting to run out of haunted and cursed sites to explore. When her eclectic roommate and assistant reveals that he owns a large, cursed Manor, Ophelia finds a lot more than just a new career opportunity.

Excerpt:

“We’ve made good progress the last couple of days. I know that what happened to all the Muggle-born students was inexcusable, and that you’re furious right now. Trust me, I am too. But please, don’t let that ruin what we have here. I thought we were becoming friends.”

“I just… how could he? The fucking war ruined so many lives, and now we have pages and pages of even more lives that they screwed over? When will it end?”

Draco shook his head. “I know how you feel. It seems hopeless, sometimes, how much was ruined by the war. I’m trying to make amends, I’m trying to fix it, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

“Hey, no,” Harry said gently, bringing a hand up to cup Draco’s face. “You’re doing great. It’s not all on you, of course it’s not. I’m sorry I took out my anger about these lists on you. I’m glad you made the effort to get them out of that safe, and that you’re handing them over to people who can fix it. You’re doing great, Draco.”

Draco looked into Harry’s eyes, and suddenly, he felt an undeniable pull. Taking a chance, he leaned in, and was rewarded with the feeling of Harry’s lips on his. It didn’t take long for Harry to reciprocate, a hand twisting in the front of Draco’s shirt and pulling him closer. Draco absolutely melted against Harry,

“I guess Ophelia was right,” Draco breathed, giving Harry a cheeky look. “Maybe there is some pent up sexual tension between us.”

Harry burst out laughing, and Draco couldn’t help joining in, the two of them leaning on each other. Despite the years of rivalry between them, this intimacy felt right. Perhaps they had known each other intimately all along, and had just been directing it in the wrong way. As they stepped into the floo, still grinning at each other, Draco knew he couldn’t wait to find out.

꒰ ︠ु௰•꒱ु♡

#The Cursed Manor #AhaMarimbas #Drarry #HD Erised 2022 #Drarry fic rec #hp fic rec #fic rec #Draco Malfoy #Harry potter #OC POV #Haunted Houses #Auror Harry potter #Drarry fanfiction #Harry potter fanfiction #Hp fanfiction #drarry fic #hp fic #hp #Carey's bookmark fic recs #Carey's personal bookmarks

[accio-sriracha]

To Fall In Love

By: Accio_Sriracha.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, minor Hermione Granger, mentioned Weasley family

Word count: 3k :)

Additional Tags: POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Timeline What Timeline, Fluffy Ending, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, They're Just Two Broken Kids At Heart Who've Loved Each Other All Along, *Sobs Violently*

Summary:

Draco Malfoy knew from the moment he stepped off of that train for the last time that he was never coming back. And yet somehow, he always seemed to find his way back to the green eyed boy with the lightning scar.

As they sit here in silence, twenty-four years old and what seemed like damaged beyond repair, Draco has a single thought.

What does it feel like to fall in love?

And he realised as he looked back into Potter's eyes, he already knew.

(OR Draco Malfoy's life is literally just a slow-burn, and they're both the closest thing to family they've ever known)

~~~♤~~~

This one is pretty short, sorry! But I hope you enjoy it :))

Lots of Love,

-Sriracha

#harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #harry x draco #draco x harry #drarry fanfic #original fanfiction #pov draco malfoy #pining draco malfoy #oblivious draco malfoy #auror harry potter #harry potter is obsessed with draco malfoy #idiots in love #falling in love #timeline what timeline #fluffy ending #exactly what it says on the tin #they're just two broken kids at heart who've loved each other all along #*sobs violently*

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Tricks and Giggles

Professor Malfoy rarely gave extra credit, the harsh and bitter teacher that he was. So, when it was announced that all they had to do was get his son—Scorpius, who was still a baby—to interact with their Magic, they all assumed it would be a walk in the park. How hard could it be?

Ao3

#Drarry #Drarry Dads #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Scorpius Malfoy #XxTheDarkLordxX Writes #Advent Month Day Five #Professor Draco Malfoy #Charm Professor Malfoy #Auror Harry Potter #No Angst #Fluff #Tooth Rotting Fluff

[chemfreaksworld]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Auror Harry Potter, Identity Porn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Summary:

Junior auror Harry Potter finds himself in a strange desert. He is injured and can not remember what happened and how he got here. His only chance of survival is to work together with the only other person in the vicinity, who is similarly injured and without memory of how they got here: Suspected terrorist and dark wizard Lord Voldemort.

#harry potter fanfiction #harrymort #tomarry #auror harry potter #sane voldemort #enemies to friends to lovers

[soulless-bex]

harry deciding to become an auror is stupid. sure he’s good in dada, but he also spent his life fighting for, well, his life. if i were him, i would have chosen a career path as far as possible from anything fighting related. maybe open an ice cream parlor. who knows

#or like he is an auror for a few years until he decides that he’s done enough fighting for one life time and retires early #i wouldn’t blame him #actually that makes more sense because fighting is familiar to him so he would have chosen it first #but he would have then changed his mind after realizing how taxing it is or something #harry potter fandom #harry potter headcanon #harry potter #auror harry potter #harry potter thoughts

[the-house-of-nott]

November 9th

The Cockblocking of Nott's Neap by Dart

Come for the library ghost, stay for Theo and Harry.

#theodore nott fanfiction #theodorenott #nottvember #nottpott #the house of nott #Auror Harry Potter #harry potter #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #theonott

[redrobyn285]

Story: The Lost Horcrux

Really enjoying this Hinny fic at the moment. Lots of intrigue, Auror!Harry, great Hinny dynamic, Godric's Hollow house exploration and James and Lily flashbacks.

#hinny #harry potter #fic rec #auror harry potter #robyn reads