#draco is injured

[splendidissimus]

2007ish - Sacrifice arc pt 2

((Content warning: hospital, potential permanent disability, ))

Genre: hurt/comfort / aftermath

Romance level: some

Angst level: 2/5

Draco's headspace: angry / fine

((words: ~4300))

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((picking up immediately after this adventure ))

The Lumos Theo cast lit up the hall like daylight, and he helped Draco out of the tomb and up the roughly hewn stone passage. it was different from the rest of the tomb, he noticed; the actual chambers had been well-finished, even if age had worn them down and made it dirty. This was just carved straight through the side of the mountain with no sense of decoration or comfort, no finishing touches. Almost like a workman's tunnel.

They felt the movement of cold, fresh air currents before anything else, and when they turned the final corner in the hall that had become more like a cave, they could see stars — the tunnel simply opened to the elements. He hadn't realised they'd been in there long enough for it to get dark. 

They were fairly high up the side of the mountain, and the ground around them was rough and steep. The tunnel was probably barely visible from below, and basically inaccessible. He found some evidence that some animal — hippogriff, he thought, by the claw marks — used it occasionally, but nothing that looked very recent, so it should be okay to stop. 

"Here, Draco." He guided him to the wall at the edge of the tunnel mouth where they could have fresh air and the breathtaking view. "Sit down, let's take care of you. I need your potion bag." 

Draco made a vague sound and let him move him around. It took him a long moment to start fumbling at his pocket, awkwardly reaching across himself. He was very badly out of it, the effect of the revival spell fading already. 

"It's all right, I'll get it." He caught Draco's thin hand and set it back in his lap, and dug through his pocket himself.

When he pulled out the potion case Draco carried, he focused very firmly on his control and unshrank the bag and its contents, so that the stone he had made didn't interfere with the spell. It worked without incident, luckily.

"Here, Draco. Drink this." He put a blood replenishing potion in his hand and lifted it from his lap. He wasn't completely sure Draco could hear him or understand, so he helped him, lifting the potion for him and holding the back of his head gently to help him drink it. 

The net effect of taking a blood replenishing potion while still sporting open wounds was that he immediately started bleeding more; blood poured out of the claw marks on his neck, and even his bandaged and tourniqueted arms leaked new blood. But Draco was resistant to healing magic, so it wasn't always a simple matter to close his wounds, and taking the potion would keep him safe until it could be dealt with. 

The second effect was the eerily near-instant way alertness came back to him. He blinked his eyes open and took a deep breath, and shifted up straighter against the wall, looking around. "We're out?" He wiped his mouth and handed back the bottle absently.

"Yeah." He rubbed his leg and shifted to sit beside him. "I'm about to try to heal all this, but we'll still have to go to the hospital, or you'll have some nasty scars. I don't have anything here to deal with cursed wounds." 

"I figured." He held out his right arm.

The gash in Draco's arm was pretty nasty looking, when he unwrapped it, inflamed and ragged, oozing sluggishly. Inferius wounds were known to fester no matter how they were cared for, and these had barely received any care at all. 

But he had Aethelmaer's stone now. Cor Magicae. The Heart of Magic. What Inferi scratch was going to defy him?

He clutched the stone in his off hand, focusing on how it warmed his hand and pulsed almost in time with his heartbeat, and ran his wand over Draco's wounds, chanting Vulnera Sanentur. 

It was easy. Easy. The wound stopped bleeding without any resistance, and then the skin came back together at his thought. He ran the wand over it a third time to remove the curse, and the colour improved immediately. The ragged line where the wound had been was still visible, but that could be treated to keep it from scarring. 

"Any pain?" he asked, massaging Draco's arm experimentally.

"Plenty, but that doesn't hurt anymore."

"Good."

Draco glanced down at his limp other arm, then toward his face. "My left hand…" His tone of voice was exactly the kind of measured calm that was used to cover that he felt uneasy.

"I know. That problem's different; it's been wearing the tourniquet too long." He glanced up at the starry sky. "Six hours or so, I figure. It will be badly damaged by now. Saint Mungo's will have to deal with that." He patted his knee and peeled the sodden makeshift bandage off his neck wounds. These ones had actual black lines radiating from them under the skin, travelling along his veins. It was a very good thing he was here. "I can take care of these, though, so hopefully you won't need a second potion."

Draco nodded stiffly and laid his head back against the wall to give him the best access to them. 

Five minutes of chanting and wandwork, the alchemical heart hot and electrifying the whole time in his hand, and the claw gashes were closed and he had pulled the black curse out of him, as though the Inferi wounds were no more dangerous than a papercut. 

"Feeling weak," Draco reported quietly. "Not like blood loss, just…physically."

"The healing magic is taking a lot out of you."

"That's not normal…"

"It's all right." He rubbed his arm. "I'm done. You don't have to worry about this anymore." He Vanished all of the blood with barely a thought and cleaned Draco up. "Now it's almost impossible to tell there were ever Inferi here. Any pain, stiffness?"

Draco shook his head and looked outside. "My cloak should be in that bag. The extra pocket."

He had to dig around a bit, because it turned out what Draco meant by 'extra pocket' was a seam on the inside lining that opened into an expanded space he could shove his whole arm into. "I'm surprised you can shrink this without all the enchantments exploding," he commented as he fished the cloak out, and helped Draco lean forward so he could fasten it around him. "Better?"

He nodded, pulling the cloak around him and hiding his arms. "I just need a minute."

"Take your time. You'll be okay." He adjusted his position to lean on his crossed legs, looking out the mouth of the tunnel. The brisk, cold breeze felt good to him, and smelled fresh and clean. It was a nice change after all day inside a musty tomb full of alchemy fumes. He fancied he could just make out the towers of Hogwarts in the distance under the moonlight, but he might be fooling himself. 

He moved his hand to Draco's leg, rubbing it absently. "You did really well."

"Yes, I'm very good at bleeding."

The sharpness in Draco's voice made him look over. "Everything okay?" Draco just stared at him, and he frowned. "Are you still cross? We just did something incredible. You should enjoy it." 

"'We' didn't do anything. I was an unwilling bystander while you performed some of the Darkest magic I have seen." 

"Firstly, that's absurdly overdramatic. And second, this thing just saved your life." He held up the Heart. "You owe it a lot better than your scorn."

"I'm not going to be grateful that it saved me from danger it put me in."

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you talking about the Heart, or me?"

"Now he gets it," Draco snarked. Then he sighed. "I didn't want to talk about this right away, but you're acting like there's nothing wrong. It's almost like you think this is a good thing."

"Isn't it?"

Draco gave him a hard look. "Are you actively trying to scare me?"

"With this, I can cast healing magic that makes Inferi wounds completely trivial. Think about what it can do!" 

"Yes, Nott, think about what it can do. It's amplifying your magic's power, or acting like another focus like a wand or something, right?" 

"In the most layman of terms. I need to do a lot more experimentation to determine its actual capabilities." 

"And you made that out of Wizard blood. Do you not grasp how Dark that is?"

"No one was meant to die from that blood sacrifice. It's not Aethelmaer's fault you have a bleeding disorder; blame Voldemort for your state, not the alchemy." 

"You're still missing the fucking point! Are you doing this intentionally?" He clutched the cloak around him, because he was restless and wanted to move around in his agitation but couldn't, really. "Do you think more of those things means more power? Or what about one made from not just a lot of blood, but a whole body's worth? What other blood do you think you could use — house elves? Centaurs? Unicorns?"

Admittedly, that idea had immense promise. If the magical properties of unicorn blood could be combined with the effect of the Heart, the result could be something spectacular… 

"I can see you wanting to try it." Draco's expression was disgusted. "Now imagine that Voldemort knew about this. Muggleborns disappeared into the Ministry to be harvested for their blood. House elves slaughtered for it like livestock. Every Death Eater with one of those damned rocks." 

"Obviously that would be horrible, but people like that don't need this kind of magic to be horrible, as he already proved. You can't stop progress just because evil people exist." He pushed himself up to his feet and dusted off his robe. "You should calm down, this isn't good for you."

"Don't tell me to calm down."

"Well, I put a lot of effort into healing you, and you're going to waste it if you have a heart attack. You're not in good shape for hysterics right now." 

"'Hysterics'," Draco said coldly.

"Catastrophising. You're working yourself up over nothing." He took Draco's hand to get him to his feet. Draco did it, but ungraciously, and then he swayed and needed Theo's support to keep him up. "We need to get you to the hospital, and then you'll be in a better place once you're healed. If you're still eager to argue about the ethics of a magic that just saved your life when you're medically cleared, fine, yell at me again then." 

He could actually see Draco biting his tongue to keep from dragging on the conversation. He doubted he had heard the last of it, but maybe he would surprise him and realise how he was overreacting when he was in a better physical condition. 

Draco was still having trouble standing; Theo had thought he might be all right after he gathered himself, but it was enduring. Clearly Draco noticed it, too. "Am I this weak because that stone is still getting its power from me?" he asked quietly, leaning heavily on his shoulder.

"No," he assured him, and helped him to the edge of the cave mouth, looking down at the Heart in the palm of his hand. The Scottish highlands stretched out below them in picturesque roughness just visible in the moonlight. "It was alchemically transmuted; it is something completely new now, with no connection to you. But the nature of healing magic is that it calls on a body's own life force to heal it; the less vitality you have, the more difficult it is for magic to heal you, and thus healing resistance. Overcoming healing resistance with spells this powerful is forcing your body to heal in ways it frankly can't support. You'll need some time to recover just from the strain of the healing magic." He rubbed his side, avoiding his unusable arm. "It seemed like a better idea than leaving Inferi wounds to fester, though. At least now you just need rest."

"Following that logic, it sounds like you could kill me with healing magic." 

"Normally, no, the healing would just stop working if you were too weak to do it. With this, though… That's an interesting question." He closed his hand around the Heart. "Right, I'm going to Apparate you."

"Go on then." Draco leaned close against him and buried his face in his shoulder; that was more necessary for flooing than Apparating, but it didn't hurt. Theo held him tightly and turned them on the spot to Apparate to the hospital. 

Saint Mungo's was a little busy, with the waiting room half full of prospective patients, but Theo had privileges as a healer there and bypassed the welcome witch to admit Draco himself with just a note to send Healer Pye to him when he was in. 

He got Draco settled in the nonmagical injuries ward without really exchanging another word, and then got an assistant started with the dittany to minimise the scarring. Then he sat beside him to take a look at his arm. 

It was bad. The skin was cold and it was completely limp, and Draco couldn't feel it at all past the ache in his upper arm. He tried healing the original cuts, silently so as to not bring attention to what he was doing, but there was no response from his body, and that was not a good sign. He looked at Draco's face while Draco watched the dittany application. 

He felt uncomfortably responsible for this. It was a fact that Draco would have bled to death without the tourniquet, even from such minor wounds, and so it had been necessary, but if he had been faster… 

"I'll send someone in to look at this," he said finally. "It's beyond my area of expertise; I'm not even confident saying it's safe to remove the tourniquet myself."

Draco nodded absently. "I need you to bring me new clothes, arrange for an Auror to come see me tomorrow, and tell Mother what happened." 

He didn't mean to make a face, but the judgmental way Draco looked at him with his eyebrows raised told him that he had. "Is making me tell her a punishment for putting you in this situation? Because that's pretty petty, if so." 

"No." Draco looked back at his other arm. The assistant healer applying dittany was making a show of minding her own business. "It's because the thought of writing is frankly exhausting right now, and you are my assistant."

"All right. Sorry." He stood. "I'll be back shortly. Try to get some sleep if you can; you need all the rest you can get." 

Draco nodded without a word, and he left in preoccupied silence.

---

Theo made a detour, between picking up Draco's clothes and finding his mother, to Lucius' office. It was empty, as he preferred; he left the books from the tomb on his desk with a note that they were for the library if he wanted them. 

Then the hard part. The house elf met him on his way out of Lucius' office, and squeaked as he almost tripped on her. "Begging Master Theo's pardon. Mistress will see you now." 

"All right. Her room?"

"No sir, in the drawing room, sir." 

"Got it." He put his hands in his pockets as he walked, turning the Heart over in his fingers. 

Narcissa had come out to meet him and was standing by the mantel; despite the late hour she was still fully presentable and ready to be seen, and he wondered, not for the first time, if she always stayed that way or if she ever relaxed. Her look for him as he came in was mild and tolerant and he knew that was about to change. 

He straightened up his shoulders a bit as he faced her, because she seemed to judge his posture just by existing. "I'm to inform you that Draco is in hospital. It's not his heart, and mostly he just needs rest. He'll be okay shortly." There, that couldn't make her angry.

"If it isn't his heart, what is it?" 

Of course she couldn't leave it alone. "He suffered some wounds from Inferi in a tomb we were exploring." 

Now the look she gave him was much less tolerant. She looked him over in clear and uncomfortable inspection. "I notice that you aren't injured," she pointed out coolly. 

"No, I guess not," he admitted. He hadn't really thought about that. "He defended me so I could get us out." 

"You are meant to be protecting him." And there it was — her expression had hardened and showed him disdain that he knew was actually anger. And probably worry. Draco insisted she was fearful, and he couldn't see it, but sure, maybe that was in there too. Whatever the exact details, she wasn't going to forgive him for a while. 

"I know. I'm sorry it turned out this way. He's safe now, though."

She didn't answer him, but took up the floo powder. "It's not visiting hours," he interrupted. She looked at him for a very long second without blinking, and he eventually got the message. "I'll let you in."

She said, "Quite so," tossed the floo powder into the fire, and directed it to the hospital. He followed right behind her. 

The welcome witch stood up behind her desk and tried to stall them, but Narcissa utterly ignored her and Theo assured her it was fine, which distracted her long enough for them to get by. One icy lift ride later and he brought her to Draco's ward. 

The ward was empty, because nonmagical injuries tended to be pretty simple to treat with basic healing magic. There were a couple healers clustered around Draco's bed at the far end with the curtains half drawn, and as they approached they could hear Draco firmly saying "—not be cutting off my arm. Think of a better solution."

Narcissa looked at Theo with utter disgust and swept past him, even the clipped clicking of her steps telling him off. 

Draco obviously recognised her by her step. "Hello, Mother," he said before she was even quite there. "I'm afraid you've nothing very interesting to see here. You'll only be watching me sleep." 

"Mrs. Malfoy." One of the healers came from the side of the bed to intercept her. "You really can't be here—"

Theo would really like to see them stop her. He shook his head to try to tell them to leave it alone, and got to Draco's bedside. "What's the situation?" He had bandages plastered over his neck and shoulder where that wound had been, indicating that that hadn't responded immediately to the dittany treatment and had needed more help for the scarring, but it was being dealt with.

His arm, though… They'd gotten the tourniquet off and controlled the immediate effects, but his normally near-skeletal arm was swollen outrageously and lying limp half-curled in his lap. He touched his hand to check and found it still cool and unresponsive. He could barely find the pulse in his wrist. The cuts had been bandaged but not healed, and the Dark Mark peeked out of the top of the bandages. Draco would never tolerate that being visible, normally. 

"Severe muscle breakdown from impaired blood flow," healer Dommet reported, her tone clipped and businesslike. "Nerve damage — it remains to be seen how it recovers after the swelling goes down. No response to healing." 

"No," he agreed. "Healing the Inferi wounds was taxing enough on his vitality, I don't think he'll respond to healing magic at all for a little while. I'll keep trying." 

"How did you do that, by the way?" Dommet asked him critically. "His healing resistance should have made Inferi wounds much more serious than merely some potential scarring." 

"Vulnera Sanentur and a fair amount of desperation?" he suggested. It didn't seem necessary or wise to share the Heart just yet, until he knew what it could do. "But it did push him too far."

"You were able to heal those, but not these relatively minor lacerations?"

He shook his head. "We were in a position where treatment simply wasn't possible for nearly six hours. By the time magic was possible, his arm was already beyond me. Were there complications in restoring blood flow?" 

"Yes," she said bluntly. "The dying muscles are poison to the blood, and Pye insists that will be damaging his kidneys and heart. Normally, I would heal his arm and a day of antitoxins would be sufficient. Instead, he'll be on fluids hourly and blood purifiers every four hours until the swelling relieves. And observation, of course, but you're here now."

"I recommend making a small incision to relieve the pressure and reduce the swelling," Pye commented. "My esteemed colleague here disagrees."

"You always want to cut into people, it's obscene." She seemed disgruntled. 

"My clothes, Theo," Draco interrupted. 

"Right, of course." He handed Draco his clean clothes and turned back to the healers. "You mentioned amputation?" 

"If the muscles can't be repaired…" she said. "If he doesn't regain sensation or function, it's just a poisonous liability. A bleeding disorder and a limb without feeling are a disastrous combination." 

"We won't let it come to that," Theo said confidently, and reached back to pat Draco's leg, but didn't find him. Looking back, he realised Draco had sat up on the other edge of the bed, and his mother was helping him into his new robe. Both the shirt and robe had had their sleeve split along the bottom to make space for his swollen arm, and she was helping guide his useless arm through. He frowned; she was trying to displace him because she was offended he allowed Draco to be injured. As though she could have done better; Draco would be dead several times over now if it weren't for him, and that wouldn't be any different if she'd been there with him instead. What right did she have to judge? 

And this was Draco's health they were talking about — Draco wasn't even paying attention.

"The swelling is so severe it's cutting off the blood supply itself," Pye was saying. "Probably putting pressure on the nerves. It needs to be addressed." 

"Leave it, for a day or two," he said without looking away from Draco. "Maybe it won't be necessary to interfere. The less we have to make him bleed, the better."

"I don't think that's the right decision. 'Wait and see' is just encouraging more damage."

"The decision is made, though. The complications for another bleeding wound are too serious. That's how he got into this mess in the first place." 

"I hope you're right…" 

Theo moved around to the other side of the bed and took Draco's good arm while he was straightening his sleeve fastidiously. Narcissa looked at him coolly, but wasn't going to countermand a healer's orders about his health. "Draco, you need to take your fluids and rest. You have another potion in…" He looked over for a sign, and Dommet pointed out the hourglass sitting beside the bed, dribbling pink sand through ornate golden filigree. "Looks about three hours. You need as much rest as you can get." 

"I know." Draco didn't resist and allowed himself to be guided into lying back against the head of the bed, but he took his arm back and used it to move his left hand into his lap. "Though listening to the lot of you discuss cutting me up is hardly restful." 

"We're leaving," Theo assured him. Well, the others were; he was here to watch over him. 

"I'll consult with my doctor friend," Pye said, coming around the bed, and behind him Dommet made a face that made her look like Narcissa. "But I think a week of observation is a starting point. You're taking over?" Theo nodded. "You're watching for nausea, trouble breathing, arrhythmia…"

"Sounds like a normal Tuesday," Draco said with exaggerated casualness, closing his eyes like he was ready to sleep.

"You see why we have to watch so closely to make sure your blood isn't poisoning your kidneys." 

"I've got it," Theo assured him. "Thanks for your help. both of you." He watched the other healers leave and looked at Narcissa. "Are you satisfied he's all right?"

"He is not," she said coolly. 

"But he will be, with a little bit of rest and observation. There's no reason for you to be concerned." She didn't seem in the least willing to agree, and he struggled not to show his annoyance. "If you want to watch over him tomorrow while I'm working, that would be welcomed," he managed to put together, very civilly, he thought. "But right now it is after visiting hours, and I've got this. I'll stay up with him until morning." 

She pressed her lips together, then turned and pulled the sheet up to Draco's chest, lifting his injured arm over the top. "I will be back in the morning." 

"Thank you, mother." He squeezed her hand before she pulled away. 

She didn't say a word to Theo before she left, and he took that as fully intentional rudeness. He didn't much mind. He sat on Draco's bed as they were finally left alone.

"Need anything?" he asked gently, taking his hand. 

"Have a spare arm?" Draco spoke without opening his eyes.

"I'd give you one of mine, but I don't think it would match."

"Can't have that. No, I just need to sleep, please."

"All right." He kissed his forehead and then stood and drew the curtains around his bed. He left him there for a little while to start his inventory of the potions Draco would need.

#narcissa malfoy #draco x theo #theo nott #splendidissimus writing #hospital cw #draco is injured #draco malfoy fanfiction #yeah Theo might be a little jealous of Narcissa? that's not a great look

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Apple Pie

Harry was baking when Draco got home.

An apple pie, if Draco had to guess, judging by the smell wafting through the house. He took a slow breath before squaring his shoulders and heading toward the kitchen where his boyfriend was baking. It didn't seem like something that should set Draco's fight or flight responses off but it very much was.

Harry only baked pies when he was upset. And it wasn't that he was afraid of Harry; he wasn't, it was just that he hated how hard that amount of stress was, hated that they couldn't just have a proper fight anymore. Hated that he felt like it was all his fault.

"Hey," he said lightly, settling himself at the island and watching Harry as he tidied.

"Hey," Harry replied, voice equally light, but there was an undercurrent of something else there, something that Draco could feel buzzing in his veins.

He paused, parsing out the words, trying to figure out what to say. Maybe if he could just assure him-

"Don't," Harry said, voice sounding stretched tight, like something was ready to shatter inside of him. "Just leave it alone."

"Harry-" he started.

A vase on the shelf wobbled dangerously for a moment before Harry exhaled and unclenched his fists, "Seriously, Draco," he said. "I need some time."

"Right," he said softly, trying not to escalate either of their emotions, "okay," he said, nodding and heading toward their bedroom and deciding to take a shower.

He spent his time in the shower reminding himself that this was how this always went, ever since the curse. Harry's magic was always heightened when he was upset, Harry always drove him away so that he could calm his body down first so his magic didn't lash out unpredictably and wreck their home, they always got to talk it through later. He forced himself to slow down, to do a hair mask and a face mask, light a candle, and moisturize his skin. He'd finished all of his normal self-care routines and then braided his hair before putting on a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry's jumpers.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Harry was sitting in the chair in their room, elbows rested on his knees, fingers clasped. He wasn't looking at Draco but Draco knew that he was fully aware of his presence.

“Hey,” Draco said, keeping his voice level and calm.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered. “I wanted to be okay by the time you got back but I just...” he shook his head and sighed heavily, looking up at Draco and pinning him with the intensity of his gaze, “Are you alright?”

"Fine," he said lightly, no reason for Harry to know that he'd almost died in the field today.

Harry all but growled at him, "don't lie to me," he said and Draco could feel the way his magic was twitching around Draco, trying to reach out and check him but Harry was visibly restraining himself.

With a sigh, he held out his arms, "I am fine," he muttered a bit petulantly. "Go on then," he said and Harry's magic covered him, touching him everywhere seeking out his bones and organs, checking him for any damage. After a moment his magic retreated a bit but he could still feel it lingering on his skin.

"You had a lot of injuries," Harry said, jaw ticking.

"I'm fine," he repeated.

He looked down and took a deep breath, "Ron told me you were in Mungos," he said, and he really must have done a good job regulating given the way his voice barely trembled.

Draco sat on the floor in front of Harry, sliding closer so that he could catch his eyes, "I am fine," he said softly looking up at him.

Harry's fingers reached out and brushed over his jaw, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he confessed. "Draco, I'm-" he broke off, looking at his hands where his fingers were clenched together, "I'm afraid that I'd burn the world to the ground if something happened."

He reached out and took both of Harry's hands in his, clasping them between his, "I'm okay," he repeated.

"This time," Harry said softly.

He didn't know what to say. "I know my job is hard-"

"No you don't," he said, his voice just a little sharp. "You have no idea what it's like to sit here everyday, waiting and hoping that nothing bad happens to you. You have no idea what it's like to have my magic constantly rushing under my skin wanting to help you-"

"I've told Weasley a thousand times not to fucking send you a patronus for every little injury-"

"It wasn't a little injury!" Harry snapped and a light bulb blew in the bathroom.

He shook his head, "I hear that but there's nothing you can do anyway-"

"That's the point!" Harry shouted and something shattered in the kitchen. "There's nothing that I can ever do. I just sit home and bake fucking pies while you go out and throw yourself in front of everything that will kill you."

"That's rich coming from you," Draco said. "The entire reason your magic is like this is because of the curse you had to throw yourself in front-"

"To protect you!"

"I didn't ask you to protect me!" Draco exclaimed. "How long are you going to keep punishing me for something that you chose?"

"Punishing you?" Harry asked, reeling back like Draco had slapped him, "How is wanting to keep you safe punishing you?"

Draco shook his head, tears filling his eyes, "I don't want to give up my life. Every time something happens," he said, "every time I get hurt, I feel afraid of how you're going to react."

"Draco, I wouldn't hurt you-"

"Not because I'm worried about you hurting me," he said, because that was true. "Because it tears you up and I keep waiting for you to ask me to quit. And I don't want to. Harry-"

"I'm sorry," he said, "shit." He put his head in his hands, "Shit."

"I love you," Draco said, because he did, more than anything. "I love you."

"I know," he said, catching the hand that Draco had pressed to his cheek and turning his face to kiss his palm. "I'm a lot," he said. "This curse is a lot. This is too much-"

"You're not too much for me," Draco inserted quickly because he wanted Harry to understand, "but it feels like I'm too much for you. And I hate the way I make you feel. I hate that we just keep going in this cycle of you getting worried, blowing shit up in our house, then feeling guilty and apologizing."

"Sorry-"

"Stop," he said. "Salazar, Harry!, stop apologizing It should be okay for you to feel worried. Why are we always trying to cap it?"

"Because my magic destroys things," he said like Draco had lost the plot.

"And?" Draco asked. "So what? We can fix it. Let's just," he shook his head, "please," he said. "Please, can we just have a fight. Or can you just let yourself feel your fucking feelings and we'll repair anything that's broken. Because I hate feeling like I'm constantly breaking you."

"What if it hurts you?"

"It won't," Draco said, "because you would never."

"There's a lot in there," he said softly. "A lot of things that I've worked really hard at not experiencing in their fullness."

He nodded, "I know, love. Just," he shrugged, "let it out."

Harry stared at him, "What if I'm too much?" he whispered.

Draco brushed his thumb over his cheek, "impossible."

"Outside?" Harry asked. "Maybe in the back garden? If we put up some shield charms?"

"Yeah," Draco said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Harry's lips, "yes."

"I don't actually want to fight with you," Harry said, "but it might be nice to let myself feel," he added like a confession. He looked at Draco, "I don't actually want you to quit, I just-"

"Hate feeling helpless," Draco said softly for him.

Harry nodded.

"Come on," he said, standing and pulling Harry to his feet, tugging him outside.

For a long moment, Harry just stood there, letting Draco put up stronger wards and shields to protect the perimeter of their property. As he watched, Harry closed his eyes, his toes burying themselves in the grass and dirt. Draco watched, waiting, and nothing happened.

Until it did.

He'd been expecting things to shatter, rocks to break, their flower garden to get torn up. Instead, the sky itself turned dark and it opened up and started to pour.

Rain drenched everything in seconds. Everything except Draco.

He looked at Harry, watched the tears streaming down his face mixing with the rain. Then Harry started to talk, "I am so afraid," he said over the pounding of the rain. "So afraid that I'm going to lose you, you have no idea. And it just," he shook his head, "the grief and fear weigh so heavily on my heart, all the time." Thunder cracked overhead, lightning striking the ground. "And I can't do anything. I want to be able to help, to be able to protect you, and it eats me up inside that I can't."

The rain turned to partial hail but Draco remained completely dry, even as Harry's clothes started to cling to his body in all of the wet.

"And I'm so frustrated about being trapped in our house. Frustrated that they haven't found the counter-curse. Frustrated that I can't help you or anyone else. But especially you." he said, still not looking at Draco, his eyes still closed as the storm raged on.

Draco waited, he just waited, wanting to give Harry all of the space that he needed to say whatever he wanted to say.

"I feel like I just keep failing you, over and over," he sobbed. "I promised, in our vows," he continued, "I promised to protect and cherish you and it's a promise that I break every fucking day."

"Harry," Draco said, moving toward him and stepping into the rain and ice that was still pelting his beloved. "Harry, look at me," he murmured and the other man opened his eyes.

"How can you even stand to look at me?" he asked, voice raw as the wind whipped around them.

"You haven't failed me," he said. And Harry started to shake his head but he continued, "You haven't," he insisted. "Because you can't. You protect my heart, you protect our home, you layer me with protective spells every single day before I leave; don't think I don't feel them settling over me like a mantle."

"I-"

"I love you. I want you," he added. "I want this life, with you. We promised each other the rest of our lives and I want all of yours. I want you to feel your feelings; to be afraid, or angry, or frustrated, or anything else. I want you to be you. Completely and totally you." He shook his head, leaning in and kissing him hard, "Circe, I've missed you these past two months."

"I haven't gone anywhere," Harry said, brushing the long wet strands of hair that had fallen out of his braid off Draco's face.

He nodded, "But you've been such a shell of yourself, so timid and," he shrugged helplessly, "not you."

"Draco," he breathed, tears falling all the harder, even as the rain started to ease slightly.

"Please stop hiding from me," he begged.

Harry tucked his face in Draco's neck and he cupped the back of his head, threading his fingers through Harry's curls.

"I want all of you," he said softly. "All of the anger, the hurt, the frustration. Give me all of you."

"Okay," Harry whispered, the rain slowing around them to a light drizzle. "Okay."

He wrapped Harry tighter in his arms, squeezing him as the rain stopped and the sun poked back out. "There," he said softly, "feel better?"

Harry nodded, pulling Draco closer, holding him tighter than he had since the curse happened.

"There you are," Draco murmured, holding him tighter in return, "Fuck," he whispered as their bodies seemed to come back intune with one another. "There you are," he repeated.

"Don't leave," Harry whispered, voice cracking.

"Hey," he said, "hey. I'm not leaving, love. I'm not going anywhere. Why would I-"

"My brain knows that," Harry said, "but my heart just-" he broke off. "I'm afraid."

"Listen to me," Draco said, pressing a kiss to his temple, "I'm not leaving. I love you. And I am always happy to tell you."

"It's stupid," Harry whispered.

He shook his head, "Nothing you're feeling is stupid. It's okay to be afraid, it's okay to need reassurance. We're going through something really hard, I'm happy to reassure you."

"Thanks."

He hummed, "do you think you're ready to go back inside, maybe put some dry clothes on and watch a movie?" he offered. "I was told to take two days of medical leave, so we can have a couple of days with just us?" he hedged.

Harry pulled back so that he could look him in the eyes, "I'd like that."

"Me too."

He sighed and scuffed his foot on the ground, "Thanks for letting my feelings be really big."

"I'm always happy to let you take up space," Draco promised. "Always."

And even once they found the counter-curse six months later, they found that they both were better at communicating their emotions and expressing their needs with less trepidation.

They were both surprised to find that the curse had actually been a blessing in disguise.

--------------------

Read more of my fics here.

#drarry #auror draco #auror partners #injured on a case #but he's fine #we have big feelings in this one #protective harry #love #husbands #soft #communication is important #working at relationships #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days

[louis-arssets]

25 Days of Drarry - Day 9

Day 9 of 25 Days of Drarry

Prompt I -- Footprints in the Snow

Image Description: An expanse of snow is disturbed only by a set of footprints leading away into the distance. The proximity of the footprints to each other indicates the person was taking shortish steps. The maker of the footprints is nowhere to be seen and there are no geographical features visible save for the flat expanse of white snow.

Tags: Auror Partners, Powerful!Harry, Injured!Draco, Getting Together, Anger, Fluff

Read more under the cut or here on AO3.

Harry’s surprised that the snow under his feet isn’t melting with how hot his anger burns through him. Snow keeps falling around him and the ground is already covered in quite a few inches which makes the crunching sound beneath his black Auror boots quite satisfactory.

He feels his magic crackling at the tips of his fingers, begging to be released. But there’s nothing for him to do. Not here, not at home, not at the bloody office from which Ron had banned him just a few minutes ago. It’s moments like these that Harry hates that Ron is his boss nowadays. Because his best friend knows him inside out, knows that Harry needs to cool down away from work, otherwise he would just bury himself in the next case, although he just finished a draining case today.

Harry huffs and makes a sharp left turn. There are people around him, looking at him curiously but he doesn’t even notice them. He just focuses on his steps, the cold air streaming through his lungs and the snowflakes landing on his eyelashes. He quickly wipes them away, the scratchy fabric of his gloves catching on his skin.

He doesn’t realize where he’s going until he stops in front of St. Mungos. He tilts his head back, looks all the way up to the roof, more snow falling into his face. The flakes immediately melt on his hot skin, melt away the anger until he feels nothing but empty. He focuses his gaze on the entrance, watches how adults and children walk in and out. Watches Wixen in Healer robes strut around, faces grim or happy. One with a deep blue robe walks out and immediately lights a cigarette. They take a deep drag and visibly relax, shoulders dropping and brows smoothing out.

Harry’s not the only person around here. Not the only person with emotions and anger and stress. But he shouldn’t be here. He should be the one laying in one of those beds inside, not his stupid Auror partner trying to play hero.

The anger crawls back through his veins and he starts walking again, now up the few steps toward the entrance, and pushes the door open without touching it. Magic once again sizzling around him.

He draws everyone’s attention toward him immediately but he ignores them, as usual. He stalks to the front desk, a young man, probably one of the trainees, greets him with wide eyes.

“Hello Mr. Po- Potter,” he stammers and Harry has no fucking patience for this. “How can I he-”

“Where is Malfoy?” Harry spits, his fingers flexing and forming fists, pulsing like his quickened heartbeat.

“Ex- excuse me?” the trainee asks, mouth slightly open.

“Malfoy,” Harry repeats. “Draco Malfoy. He’s here. Tell me where.”

“I am sorry, Mr. Potter, but that’s confidential. If you’re not family or registered as an emergency contact I am not allowed to tell you anything.” The trainee looks apologetic and Harry’s a little surprised that he managed to form an entire sentence.

“I think you misunderstood,” he says lowly and leans over the counter, his right hand outstretched right in front of the trainee’s face. No one else can see it, his body covering the sight. He conjures a little ball of magic, feels the heat radiating from his skin. The trainee’s eyes widen in fear. Good. Harry enjoys being feared way more than being adored. He learned that it’s even more effective to get his way. “Where. Is. Draco. Malfoy.”

A stream of light zips out and hits the trainee’s face, who immediately jerks back. Harry knows that it’s only a light sting but it serves the purpose. The trainee scrambles toward the computer and types something. After five seconds he turns back. “Room 283, second floor, turn left, then it’s at the end of the hallway.”

“Thank you,” Harry drawls and smirks at the man. Then he turns and follows the directions until he’s standing in front of room 283. The door is closed but Harry can sense that Draco’s alone in the room. It probably means that he’s stable and not in need of urgent care. Something eases in his chest but it’s not enough.

“Harry? What are you doing here? Ron said he sent you home!”

Harry rolls his eyes. Of course, would Hermione find him in the blink of an eye. He turns toward her. She’s wearing the same dark blue robes as the Wixen with the cigarette. So they are a head of a department as well.

“Don’t you know me better than that?” Harry grits out and now Hermione is the one to roll her eyes.

“Of course I do. Which is why I am here. By the way, you made Marcel shit his pants.”

“Who?”

“The young man at the front desk. You can’t just go around and scare people with your ridiculous magic, Harry. What were you thinking?” Hermione crosses her arms in front of her chest. She can nearly lay them down on her stomach, her bump nearly that big now that’s only a few weeks until Rose gets a sibling.

“He wasn’t cooperative,” Harry shrugs.

“He was doing his job. Which is also what Draco did, by the way. So there’s no reason for you to behave like a neanderthal around here or the DMLE.”

And there it is again. The anger creeping into his body, freezing his heart. Or lighting it on fire. He doesn’t know. He ignores her words and turns back toward the door.

“Harry,” Hermione sighs behind him but he doesn’t care. He opens the door and steps into the room.

And there he is, his stupid Auror partner, lying in the hospital bed, looking too small and fragile in the blue light that the monitors around cast on him. There is something crumbling inside Harry and he feels his hands start to shake. He wants to go. He can’t go. He can’t do anything. So he starts yelling.

“You stupid fuck! How dare you do something this dangerous! And for what? See where that brought you!”

He cannot continue because in the split second he needs to take a breath, there’s a sharp pain in his back and he feels himself falling to the floor. The last thing he hears is Hermione’s voice.

“I’m sorry, Harry. But you can not behave like this in a hospital.”

Then it’s darkness.

*

Harry’s lying on his couch, his front turned toward the backrest, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His head aches. From the day, the anger, the stress, and the fucking hex Hermione hit him with. As soon as he woke up in another room he got up and left the hospital, without checking if Hermione was still there.

Now, it’s three AM and he can’t sleep. Can’t think of anything or anyone else than his Auror partner. He feels restless. So he does the only thing that feels right to him.

He gets up, grabs his invisibility cloak from his bedroom, and makes his way over to Mungos. He decides to take the twenty-minute walk and hopes that it will clear his mind a little.

It doesn’t really. His heart rate picks up as soon as he stands in front of the building. He covers himself in the cloak and waits until one of the staff walks out of the sliding doors to sneak in. He knows where he has to go now and it only takes him two minutes until he’s back standing in front of Draco’s room. He quickly checks his surroundings and when he deems the coast clear, he opens the door.

There he is again, Draco. Lying in the hospital bed, thin covers pushed down under his arms. His face doesn’t look relaxed, brows a little furrowed and lips pressed together. Harry smiles a little. Not even in his sleep, does his Auror partner relax. Usually, it infuriates him, how much Draco cares. Cares too much about others and not enough about himself, which is a big part of the reason why he’s lying here right now. But right now it reminds Harry of the Draco he knows, he doesn’t look as fragile as he did a few hours ago.

Harry steps fully into the room, grabs one of the visitor chairs, and sits down, cloak still covering his body. He continues to watch Draco breathe for a bit and finally, his heart rate goes down a little. He can’t help but to reach out and push a blond strand of hair behind Draco’s ear, then he softly grabs one hand in his own, keeping the touch light. His hand is warm, luckily, but Harry still pulls the covers back up a little. He keeps Draco’s hand in his own, and places his chin on his other hand, leaning on the mattress next to Draco’s body.

He feels his eyelids droop, knows that it’s not a good idea to stay if he doesn’t want to get hexed by one of the healers again. But he doesn’t care. He finally feels a little peace, right here with this man in front of him. So he stays and closes his eyes, just for a minute.

*

Harry wakes from the soft voices around him. He immediately knows where he is, feels the mattress under his cheek where it apparently slid onto while he slept.

“How long has he been here?” he hears Hermione talking in his back.

“I don’t know,” Draco whispers back. A million butterflies take flight in Harry’s stomach. He’s okay, Draco’s okay, is what his mind keeps repeating. Just then does he notice the soft fingers scratching his scalp, gently loosening the knots in his hair. “I first woke up around five, I think. By then he was already drooling on my bed.”

Liar! Harry wants to say, but he stays put.

“You should have seen him yesterday,” Hermione continues and Harry hears how she moves around the room, probably checking Draco’s stats. “Threatening people to get to you, screaming at you, I had to hex him to get him out of here.”

“Merlin,” Draco mutters, his fingers now sliding down to Harry’s face, soft fingertips brushing his skin.

“I know that you haven’t asked me,” Hermione starts but Draco immediately stops her, his fingers gone from Harry’s skin.

“Then don’t say anything,” he grits.

“I think you should tell him how you feel,” Hermione continues undeterred.

He hears Draco huff, his heart rate starts to climb again. He feels his hands start to sweat.

“Hermione,” Draco presses and Harry actually knows what kind of a face he makes. “You just told me that he yelled at me! While I was unconscious!”

“Because he was scared to death, for fuck’s sake! Because you threw yourself in front of him, taking several stunners and hexes to your head and chest. He thinks that he should be the one lying here. Because he loves you.”

It’s rare, nowadays, to hear Hermione outraged. She’s gotten calmer since she became a mum two years ago. She doesn’t sound like that now. Harry doesn’t even wonder how she knows that he’s in love with Draco when he realized that just two months ago. She’s Hermione after all.

“He does not,” Draco replies petuantly.

“I do,” Harry finally intervenes and lifts his head. His eyes need a second to focus but when they do his breath hitches. Draco’s looking at him with wide grey eyes, his mouth slightly parted. His cheeks are rose-coloured and his brows raised. “Merlin, I’m so in love with you, Draco. You infuriate me, you always argue with me, you are the best partner I’ve ever had and you are the most brilliant and gorgeous man I’ve met. I want to be with you always and I hate you for putting yourself in such danger as you did yesterday! I cannot lose you, do you understand that?” Harry’s speech is getting faster and louder with every word. The silence after he finishes is deafening, only interrupted by the soft click of the door when Hermione leaves the room.

There are tears prickling in his eyes, his heart clenching in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do. What if he just ruined everything? What if he pushed away the best person he knows? What if Draco will report him at work for sexual harassment? What if -

“Come here,” Draco chokes out, his arms opening wide. Harry doesn’t think twice and surges forward. He buries his face in Draco’s neck, while Draco slinks his long, strong arms around his shoulders. “I love you, too, you stupid prick. Of course, I couldn’t let those arseholes harm you. I can’t lose you either, arsehole.”

Harry lets out a wet laugh and pulls back a little. There’s a soft smile on Draco’s face and tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks and Draco starts nodding before he’s finished his sentence.

So he bows forward again and finally seals their lips together, relishing in the feeling of warmth spreading through his body. Draco’s hands are around his neck, then on his cheeks, softly stroking the skin under his eyes. A hot tongue strokes his bottom lip and Harry immediately opens up, angels their heads a little so they slot even better together.

He knows that they still have a lot to talk about and to work through. He doesn’t know how this can work while being Auror partners. But all of that doesn’t matter at this moment, because he’s got the love of his life in his arms, healthy and safe and warm and they love each other.

That’s all that matters.

Day 8 -- Day 10

#25 days 2022 #25 days of drarry #25 days of draco and harry #Darry #harry potter #draco malfoy #auror partners #fluff #anger #powerful!harry #injured!draco #getting together

[allpromarlo]

we got called soft all week (for laying dormant and resting our starters...lmao) but the moment we return the energy the tears start free falling. okay

#you can't call us rat birds and then get mad when we start playing dirty lmao idk who told u dat #out here saying 'the nfl will hear of this' as if two players have never gotten injured in a game before #on some draco malfoy 'MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS' bs LMFAOOOO #can't u ppl just...move on #we knew this game wasn't important to us. maybe if your dumbass took the risk and rested your starters as well it wouldn't be like this #bc again the fate of the coin flip rested upon the chargers shoulders...and the chargers fuckin lost #no reason to trot your starters out against our depleted ass team but well. here you are #reap the consequences of your own actions and shut up #nfl #baltimore ravens #cincinnati bengals #last one for today but i've just seen so many of them complain and like... #u need to go back to being irrelevant bc afc north football is not for you

[drarryandtomarryfanfics]

Volcanologist by Lomonaaeren

Platform : Fanfiction.net

Tags : Slash, Unspeakable! Draco, Injured! Harry, Angst, Confessions, Dark Magic, Jealousy, Obsession, Potion Sex, etc.

( Rated R, 4,200 words, multichapter, completed )

Being treated by Unspeakable Malfoy for a curse that’s slowly turning him into a stone, having Malfoy see into his mind with telepathic magic and seeing into Malfoy’s mind in return, shows Harry something he’s looked for a long time – and never imagined finding here.

ah yes. the ‘classic’ twisted, and bonderline obsessive love. who doesn’t love unhinged! draco, and this is made by the Lomonaaeren, that is more than enough to know it’s a ‘must-read’!!!

#harry potter #mustread #draco malfoy #draco x harry #drarry fanfic #injured harry #healer draco malfoy

[dracolizardlars]

Okay it's been almost 3 hours since my cervical screening and I am still in pretty bad pain, NOW it's starting to bother me.

#draco speaks #I have very good pain tolerance but when it's at a decent level unrelenting for hours it really gets me down #sets off the primal 'injured animal ' response just wanna curl up in a corner #ALSO in this case its making me feel like I need to pee constantly which is very annoying

[yumeurl]

baffled by the way draco interacts to harry during book3. why tf are you going to their table during potions and instead of just being annoying ud initiate convo to harry about sirius??? and honestly ron reacts way more strongly to dracos taunts than harrys, the only time harry feels affected by it is when its Embarrassing????

#the way im holding my all and trying to read as normally as possible but the way draco was able to bow and pet buckbeak #and only got injured CUZ HE WAS DISTRACTED AT TAUNTING HARRY #rambles #yumes hp reads

[infin1ty-garden]

MEMORIES MAKE EVERYTHING SO DIFFICULT

⋆｡°✩ summary: where you fake amnesia to get out of a fight with your enemy and he lies and tells you'd been dating for a year ⋆｡°✩ character(s): draco malfoy, theodore nott, mattheo riddle, enzo berkshire and blaise zabini ⋆｡°✩ warnings: meantion of injury ⋆｡°✩ word count: 644 ⋆｡°✩ author note: this is my first time writing for the harry potter fandom. so, sorry if the characters are ooc

masterlist.

DRACO MALFOY

⋆｡°✩ Draco found out through a friend you'd gotten amnesia, he immediately went to find you. Stating he was so worried you'd gotting injured by a gryffindor no less.

⋆｡°✩ When you expressed confusion over who he was, the lie slipped out. "Your boyfriend."

⋆｡°✩ You dismissed his suggestion of visiting the hospital wing. He decided to patch you up himself.

⋆｡°✩ This act went on for a while. He didn't know why. He wasn't in love with you. Was he?

⋆｡°✩ He told you he lied about being your boyfriend and understood if you never wanted to speak to him. You made an admission of your own. How you don't have amnesia and remember everything.

⋆｡°✩ "The love I have for you is real."

THEODORE NOTT

⋆｡°✩ The hole time you talking about how you don't remember him, he was just smirking at you. That's when he proclaimed you were dating him.

⋆｡°✩ Since forever he'd been in love with you but you'd always treated him like a enemy. When the opportunity presented itself, he wasn't gonna waste it.

⋆｡°✩ He didn't make a big show of dating you. Wanting to make the gestures more intimate and personal but also easier for him when it blows up in his face.

⋆｡°✩ When you finally told him you'd lied about the amnesia, he didn't speak to you for a while. You thought that was it but he'd cornered you asking if everything you'd said was a lie as well.

⋆｡°✩ He'd falled deeper in love then he ever has and the thought of you not reciprocating those feelings crushes him.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

⋆｡°✩ Mattheo didn't believe you as soon as the words left your mouth. He decided to fuck around to see how far you'll take it

⋆｡°✩ Saying how you'd been together for the better part of the year and "How could you not remember me?" bullshit

⋆｡°✩ You both went along with it. At the same time, Mattheo stopped flirting and sleeping around. What a weird turn of events? Why would he do that?

⋆｡°✩ You played along for a time but decided to tell him the truth. "I know. You're not as good at lying as you think."

ENZO BERKSHIRE

⋆｡°✩ As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt horrible. Why did he feel so bad? He was supposed to hate you.

⋆｡°✩ Still he never corrected himself and proceeded to take you on many many dates

⋆｡°✩ Pretending to be your boyfriend was a lot more enjoyable than he thought it would be. Was he falling in love with you? No way!

⋆｡°✩ Enzo knew he was lying to himself but it was better than admitting what he already knew

⋆｡°✩ You went on all kinds of dates. His friends noticed the change as he was a lot more happy and made fun of him for it.

⋆｡°✩ One of your friends accidentally mentioned you had lied to him. At first he was furious but he'd lied to you as well.

BLAISE ZABINI

⋆｡°✩ Blaise is not some one who makes fun of medical conditions but...

⋆｡°✩ He introduced himself as your boyfriend and for the last few months his feelings of hate had turned into love

⋆｡°✩ He was going show you how good of a boyfriend can he be and maybe just maybe you'll fall for him as he had for you

⋆｡°✩ It doesn't take him long to realise that you'd lied but he goes along with it. Ignoring obvious signs of you actually retaining your memory.

⋆｡°✩ He was his happiest when hanging out with you and he knew his feelings were real. He hoped you'd realise yours were too.

⋆｡°✩ Unable to lie to him anymore you told him the truth. How you lied and love him. His answer? Kissing you.

Thanks for reading!

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys fanfiction #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin headcanons #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x you #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x you

[keto-keyes]

Slytherins with a non!Deatheater S/O

Imagine/preference

The Slytherins are down bad for their partners. So how do they rip off the band aid and break the news that secretly, they're all bad?

Mattheo Riddle:

We all know he's a bad boy with a bad attitude

...except around his S/O

He doesn't try to hide the blood on his hands, but uses the excuse "I was protecting you"

He does actually do it to protect you, don't worry

His dad threatens to end you if he refuses to do his Deatheater duties

So he makes sure to keep you around him whenever he can to make sure you can't get hurt

Our boy stresses the heck out whenever you get even the smallest bit injured

It might start fights sometimes between the two of you, but you KNOW this mamas boy would never lay a hand on you in the wrong way

If you try to join, he discourages it

He doesn't want to psychologically scar you

lots of time together whenever he can kick his dad outta his mind

Then he holds you tight like he's gonna lose you

Don't ever stop loving this man, alright?

Tom Riddle:

It's kinda impossible for you not to know about his...situation

It's all anybody talks about when you're around

But he only wants to protect you

So he makes sure to keep you distracted whenever he must get the job done

He'll take you dancing, or go shopping afterwards

sometimes you might need to clean him up after a scuffle

he lets you, but only if you promise not to ask how he got the injuries

His dad also threatens him with losing you and he could never be complete without his S/O safely in his arms

if somehow you get tangled in his mess of deatheater-ness, he will sacrifice EVERYTHING for you

his only thought is to keep you safe

Theodore Nott:

He doesn't tell you he's a Deatheater until you meet his friends

That's right, he didn't let you meet his friends

not at first

after you meet them, it's kinda like momentum until he finally tells you he's a deatheater

he definitely expects you to hate his ass, but you don't so he's hopeful

he smokes to forget all the horrible things he does.

he does it more once he finally confesses, but tries not to when you're around.

dw, his stoic attitude when you ask him about being a deatheater isn't him being uncaring

he just forgot how to feel remorse after being a human murder weapon for so long.

it's like torture for him, and he hates it

So care for him please, as best you possibly can

Draco Malfoy:

He's probably the most affected by the deatheater thing

If you're dating him, either you're younger than him or your families are close.

So you know all about the deatheater thing

he pretends having a dangerous father is a good thing

like, he can destroy draco's enemies in an instant,

but... he could also force you to join Voldemort, and that's something that can never happen.

you have to either be holding his hand or his cheek AT ALL TIMES,

otherwise his anxiety causes him to start shaking

he'll whisper all his worries as he weeps himself to sleep, and sometime you catch him doing it

his dad only protected him for so long, now it's your turn

Blaise Zabini:

He doesn't talk about it

ever

even when you two have been dating for a while, he doesn't mention it

it's not your problem, it's his

and he wants it to stay that way for as long as possible

he's afraid telling you will somehow lead to Voldemort knowing, and holding it against him

especially since the only thing Voldemort's actually threatening him with is death. extremely painful death.

so he doesn't even mention it.

you know though. you know how painful killing and torturing is for him.

it tears him apart, almost to the point where he wants to smoke with theo

sometimes he wishes desperately that he could tell you everything, but he's scared you would be in danger.

so he stays quiet and lets the anguish build

he doesn't crack. ever

he stays stoic and silent. caring

Pansy Parkinson:

she doesn't like to bother you with the gorey details,

but sometimes they slip out

she breaks down all the time. it's traumatising

but she can't really articulate what she feels

so she just cries as you hold her to your chest/side

yeah, idk i didn't really have any ideas for pansy

Lorenzo Berkshire:

he may be a little flouncy at times, but he cares about your wellbeing enough to protect you

its his main goal in life

so he tries to keep himself between you and the others for as long as possible. like theo

its less of a "you don't need to know them"

and more of a "what? other people? who needs people when I'm your cute bf?" while waving his hands in front of you so you focus on him

he lets you wash his cuts for him

and do his hair in consolidation for not being by your side for a few hours.

Voldemort really can't touch enzo without hurting you.

So he keeps his mouth shut about it a lot.

sweet boy livin in a cruel world, what can i say

#draco malfoy #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle #theodore nott #tom riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #blaise x reader #pansy parkinson #draco x reader

[sassy-cissa]

Fic rec:

After a nearly 10 year absence from writing H/D – Faithwood is back. I was lucky to be her beta on this monster and it's amazing. If you loved her writing before, you're going to be thrilled. If you aren't familiar with her – you're in for a treat. It's 10 chapters and she's posting one every week (or sooner if she can). Go…read…leave her love for coming back!!

Title: Beholden Author: faithwood Pairing: Draco/Harry Rating: Expicit Length: about 100k when she's done posting Genre/Content: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, 8th Year, enemies to friends to lovers, injured Harry Warnings: none Summary: Draco Malfoy might not be a killer, but it turns out he's an effective painkiller. If stopping pain was all Draco's touch did, things might not be so complicated, but either way Harry can't afford to be choosy. Beholden

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #faithwood #faithwood is back! #harry potter #draco malfoy #amazing

[sinsirellaxx]

Okay but how about our toxic Slytherin boys who only have a soft spot for the reader🥺

Slytherin Boys – They only have a soft spot for you

Warning: Honestly ... no warnings!

A/N: Thank you for the request! Enjoy!

Not proofread.

Mattheo …

… whose frown disappeared as soon as he heard your voice or spotted you in the crowd. Who immediately hides his injured fist behind his back in fear of worrying you – he didn’t want to taint you with his darkness. Mattheo who deleted and blocked every single girl’s number after falling for you. Mattheo who stopped skipping classes, just to always be with you and see you several times throughout the day. The young riddle brother who’d rather wear cozy pajamas, with a face mask on his face to watch a movie with you together in his bed instead of getting wasted at a party.

Mattheo who constantly has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from hurting anyone who’s too close to you.

Mattheo who is actually afraid to scare you away with his true self – so afraid, that he constantly has to put up a mask.

Mattheo who’d burn the whole world down just to be with you.

“I love you more than you know, love. From now on, everything I do is for you. You’re mine and I’ll always be yours.”

Theodore …

… who is known to be a womanizer is suddenly ashamed of his past promiscuous lifestyle.  Theodore who only has eyes for you, ever since you ran into him and ended up pulling him to the floor with you. He had been annoyed at first but the moment your eyes connected his head went completely silent. For the first time in a long while. He saw peace and warmth in your eyes – his peace, that he would run after from that day on.

Theodore who spent most of his time with you after having finally won you over. The only thing that mattered to him were you and if your relationship was getting serious and you loved him just as earnestly as he loved you, he’d even quit smoking.

“There is no one that I want more than you. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Ti amo.”

Lorenzo …

… was surprisingly thoughtful and selfless when with you. Lorenzo had gained himself the title of being the prince of Slytherin, with his charming looks and boyish smile but every girl who had been in an intimate relationship knew how selfish and arrogant Berkshire really was. He is the my-pleasure-only kind of guy, who’d be gone in the morning. Or the guy who leaves girls on read and just sheepishly smiles at them when confronted about it. But with you, Lorenzo can’t help but light up like a small child on Christmas eve whenever you hold his hand let alone are close to him. He’d impatiently wait for your replies and snatch his phone from wherever it was whenever it vibrated in the hopes of it being a message from you. He’d trail after you like a lost puppy, taking advantage of the positive image that he had built for himself and would look at you sadly with his big brown eyes, whenever someone or even you brought up his reputation with the girls.

“Please don’t listen to those rumors … I truly love you so much. So much, it actually hurts me.” Lorenzo brokenly whispers while clutching his chest.

Draco …

… would pamper you with his money – because that is the only love language he knows. He didn’t grow up in a loving, warm household but his parents gave him everything he wanted to compensate for their lack off emotional support. Draco never knew he wanted – no, needed intimacy until he met you. At first, he had been appalled by his feelings for you. You were nothing like the ideal woman his parents expected him to marry one day, but he was lost in your eyes the second you smiled at him – trapped in the warmth that radiated in your orbs. The man completely changed – well, only when it was about you. In the beginning of your relationship, you had to teach him about the other love languages – you had to reassure him, that he didn’t need to spend money on you to express his love. You told him he could touch you, kiss you, hug you and tell you, whenever he wanted or needed something from you. After that, Draco didn’t go a day without hugging you close to his body at least once. He’d kiss you good morning and goodbye, every. Single. Day.

He'd never forget to tell you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were.

“I love you more than I thought I was capable of. My heart is so full. Thank you for being mine.”

Blaise …

… would be – what is nowadays considered as – a simp. He’d go soft for you and only for you. Whatever you want – whatever you need, he’ll get it for you. You want him to straighten or curl your hair? No need to ask twice. You want to apply make-up on his face just for shits and giggles? Anything for his princess – but please don’t take any pictures of him.

Someone looks at you the wrong way and makes you feel uncomfortable? They might go blind soon if they don’t look away asap. Blaise is so infatuated with you, that you wouldn’t even have to ask or mention the idea of a promise ring or matching necklaces – he’d be two steps ahead of you.

“I know it sounds cheesy – but you are the moon of my life. I’d do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours.”

Tom …

… still struggles with showing affection and worries, that it might drive you away. He tries – he really tries hard. Tom Riddle is known for his intelligence, but he soon has to come to terms with the fact that his intelligence won’t help him with romance. He had a lot to learn. When he first started noticing his feelings towards you, he was in complete denial. He outright refused to accept them. He had no time for love. But when another male from his year started flirting with you his resolve to ignore his feelings disappeared into thin air. He couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer – or else he’d have to get rid of many male students and that would not be optimal for his time at Hogwarts. He’d slowly start getting closer to you: Approaching you in the library to help you reach a book from the top shelf, helping you carry your books when one of them fell from your arms. He even had to practically force Snape to assign him as your Potions tutor. You had been intimidated at first, but he slowly grew on you. Tom was very attentive and took mental notes on everything you told him.

Out of respect for you, Tom didn’t want to make use of his legilimency, but he couldn’t help himself. He is still a toxic boy after all.

“I promise to always love you, my love. There is nothing that can stand between us – you are mine forever.”

_

A/N: Feedback and comments are greatly appreciated! ❤️

If you want to support me and my work: https://ko-fi.com/sinsirella

#slytherin boys #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini x reader #toxic slytherin boys #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys headcanons #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire imagine #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader

[splendidissimus]

2005ish - Excising Voldemort

((Content warning: Draco is trying to remove the Dark Mark from his arm. With a knife. For five pages.))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober 2023: day 22: Alternate prompt: Body modification ))

Genre: whump

Romance level: none

Angst level: 3/5

Draco's headspace: fixated / seemingly fine

((words: 2800))

------------------------------------

Knives reminded Draco of Death Eaters. He had never, as far as he knew, met a wizard who carried one who didn't have the Dark Mark. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rowle… real sadists who wanted to be able to hurt people without a wand. It seemed fitting, then. 

"Master Draco." Tolly slid the knife onto the desk and looked up at him with her ears drooped almost completely flat against her back. "Please, please choose something else…"

"It's all right, Tolly," he assured the house elf firmly. "I'll be okay. I forbid you from telling anyone what I'm doing." She wrung her hands together anxiously. "Unless I pass out," he added thoughtfully. "Or die. Then I would like to be found." 

She pulled on her ears with a squeal so alarmed it didn't even make words. 

"Merlin, you're going to make me nervous." He patted her head. "I don't think you should stay. You can come check on me in an hour." 

She resisted the order, just a little bit. "Please, Master Draco," she squeaked, and then vanished, hitting herself on the head as she did to punish herself for that resistance. Draco did feel a bit bad for her stress, but she was worrying unnecessarily. 

Draco rested his palms on the edge of the desk and looked over his preparations, taking a final inventory. Knife, belt, wand, bowl of water and cloth, towel, blood clotting potion, blood thinning potion, blood replenishing potion, plate. He'd already taken the Wit Sharpening potion to make sure his mind was clear and focused.

He began rolling up his left sleeve, stoically. He hated the Dark Mark. He had set eyes on it probably only a dozen times in the years since Voldemort's death, and in the years of his reign, looking at it had been more like picking at a wound. He kept his arm covered at all times if he could help it. Any time it was exposed, he was acutely aware of it, and if it happened to brush against any other part of his skin he swore he could feel it, like something contagious, contaminating anything it touched.

He could also withstand a great deal of pain. He didn't like to, obviously — he was a coward, and pain hurt. But he'd had a lot more practice at it than anyone should.

The Dark Mark was completely indelible; it had faded, but it would never disappear, and no potion, spell, or artefact would ever lift it. However, Voldemort had completely despised all things nonmagical, and thoroughly undervalued and overlooked the potential power in anything not a wizard of pure blood.

Those three facts seemed to naturally go together, and culminate in the form of the knife he had asked Tolly to bring him. Would the great Lord Voldemort ever consider that someone would dare take something as banal as a kitchen knife to his distinguished mark?

The tattoo on his forearm leered at him as he folded the sleeve up one last turn above his knobby elbow. It was a trick of his eyes and his hatred for it, of course, but it gave the unsettling impression of moving under his skin as he moved his arm. The black of the skull and snake was faint; it would have taken a real effort to actually see, on a more normal skin colour, and even against his paleness it was only a grey blemish. But to him, it may as well have been glowing. 

He wrapped the belt around his arm, between the sleeve and his elbow, and yanked it tight, then a little tighter once it began to hurt. He knew he couldn't allow himself to bleed any more than necessary; his blood didn't clot, it just flowed unabated, and it could be dangerous. He had a potion standing by in case he absolutely had to, but the blood thickeners came with their own dangers: at least once they had cause a clot in his brain that affected his mind, a stroke, and that was one of the most terrifying things he had ever experienced. Which was why he had in turn a blood thinning potion, in case he needed to treat that. Ideally, he would use neither of them. 

He flexed his left hand to experiment with the way it was starting to go numb, then pulled the towel over to rest his arm upon, and picked up the knife, testing it in his hand. It was heavier than he expected, not balanced like a wand; he swished it around a little to get accustomed to it. The dexterity of practised wand skills translated over well, and once he was used to the balance, he could control the tip of it with confidence. 

All right, now… 

He clenched his fist to tauten the skin, set the tip of the knife against his skin at the top of the skull, and pressed it in. The skin dimpled for a second, forced him to press harder than he'd thought he would have to, and then it suddenly went in. He hissed in pain and yanked the knife back out on reflex. A drop of blood welled up in the puncture, swelled and balanced on top of his arm, and when its weight became too much finally rolled over the edge of his arm and slid down to the towel, leaving a trail of red over the bare skin.

All right, that was all right. He just hadn't been prepared. But it proved he could do it. Now he just had to.

He put the knife point back to his skin near the first mark before he could think about it too much and pressed it in, drawing blood a second time. He hissed in a pained breath again, but it didn't stop him this time. The blade ploughed its way through the skin, digging a furrow across the top of the skull.

In a few seconds, that became too much, and he yanked the knife away and pressed it flat against the table, head bowed, shakily trying to catch his breath. His arm seared. But he was making progress.

When he opened his eyes and forced himself to look at Voldemort's mark, he was dismayed to realise the cut was maybe two inches long, weeping blood over the side of his arm but otherwise to very little effect. It had felt so much bigger than that. It wasn't even properly connected to the first puncture he had made. If that was all he could do at a time, he was going to chew his arm into dogmeat before he accomplished anything…

He wet the cloth and wiped away the blood with a hiss, and then pressed it firmly over the area. The cold felt good; it had a side effect of also covering the Dark Mark from view, which made him feel like he could think more clearly because it wasn't watching him. Feeling the throbbing of his arm under his hand gave him a moment to breathe. 

He set aside the cloth, flexing his left hand again — with some difficulty, as the numbness now had it feeling distant and clumsy — and watching the cuts move. The second one opened a tiny amount and let another line of blood escape, but the tourniquet was doing its job and he wasn't bleeding all that much. He traced the jagged line of the cuts with his eyes.

He was trying to be too gentle. Or too careful. There was nothing he was going to do that would mitigate the pain, so he shouldn't be trying to. He needed to be more decisive. Just do it. 

With an absent nod, he picked up the knife, then changed his mind and instead untucked the end of the belt that was wrapped around his upper arm, pulled it taut, and held it between his teeth. Then he set the blade against the long side of the skull, pressed until he felt it and saw blood, and then yanked it toward his wrist in one sharp motion. His cry of pain was muffled in the belt, and he slammed the knife back onto the desk, fumbling around for his wand. When his fingers found it, he Silenced himself and released the belt from his teeth, panting for breath.

The cut was better this time. Much longer and neater. And bleeding more. There was blood flowing from it in several distinct rivulets, soaking into the towel under his arm. The cut wasn't at the perfect angle, but it was most of the length of the mark.

Just do that again, a few more times… 

He pulled the belt tighter, trying to cut off the blood, held it in his teeth again, and picked up the knife. He told himself he wasn't going to put it down again until he was done. 

Starting at the upper long side of the mark, he made another long slice, and then a series of a few short ones around the bottom of the snake, carving straight lines in an approximation of a curve. The skin moved around, making it hard to pull a smooth line, leaving jagged starts and stops in the cuts; he needed another hand to hold himself down. He had to scream once, but he was Silenced so it didn't matter. 

When he had done as much as he could like that, he stopped for a moment, resting the edge of the knife on the desk, panting raggedly around the leather in his teeth. His right hand was shaking around the knife. He didn't let it go, though. He wasn't done. 

The Dark Mark was roughly outlined in straightish lines, not neat, but amateurish, overlapping where they should have started, sticking out unnecessarily far into the skin or leaving gaps of unbroken skin where they didn't meet, some at awkward angles where the skin had shifted or the curve of his arm sent the knife awry. Blood was running from the cuts, squeezed out and smeared onto the Dark Mark, running tickling down the sides of his arm to soak into the towel. There was blood not only on the knife, but the desk where it had touched, and soaked into the edge of his other sleeve where he had brushed it unknowingly. 

He lifted the blade again, and noticed how unsteadily it was shaking in his hand, so closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Opening his eyes, he breathed deeply and stared at the tip of the knife until it quavered under his will and behaved, going still. 

Carefully, he slid the point of the blade into the edge of one of the cuts, hissing a small breath through his nose, and then laid it almost flat, so that it wasn't going down into his arm but over it, under the edge of the skin by a few fractions of an inch. He made sharp, short slices at the corner of the cut that way, lengthening it step by step toward the next cut, and when they nearly joined he had to shift the knife so that he was digging the point into the thin wall of flesh between them and yank it up to break that last thread of skin. 

It hurt. It hurt like hell. But there was a kind of clarity and focus that went along with it, a satisfaction in seeing progress on his goal. He gritted his teeth on the belt, panted through his nose, and focused on joining the next pair of cuts. And the next. He could feel in his throat that he would be making noises, but he couldn't hear them and it was fine. He didn't pretend he was brave about pain. Just that it wouldn't stop him.

The first cuts, at the top of the skull, were the most problematic. The angle was awkward and the skin was torn up in small sections. He finally gave up on the careful approach, there, and instead laid the length of the blade half an inch below the original abortive cuts, took a breath, and sawed it forward in a swift slice. The skin shifted and dimpled instead of parting, needed more pressure, and then when it gave the knife bit deeply into the wasted muscle and scraped bone, and he screamed, ripping the knife out and shaking.

It took a very long moment before he got a grip on that screeching pulse of pain, and in that time, blood was running freely from that deep cut and into the towel, slowly spreading the red. But it was done. The entire Dark Mark was encircled in cuts, moats of blood, quarantined, separated from the rest of his skin. It was no longer part of him. Now it was just stuck to him.

His breath was ragged, but he lifted the trembling blade again. Nearly finished. Just to get it off, now.

He took up the wet cloth to wipe the blood from one section of the mark, squeezing the cut closed for a second to interrupt the flow so that he'd be able to see what he was doing. Then he carefully inserted the knife into the cut again and once again angled it so that he could slide it under the skin. Much further this time, not just the edges as before, but full inches, slowly working it back and forth, forward, between the skin and the muscle, biting back whimpers of pain with every stroke as the blade scraped under his skin. The snake seemed to writhe as it bulged with the knife under it, like it was trying to escape from his skin.

It wasn't neat work, at first. He got the angle wrong and shaved too close to the surface, and the tip of the knife came up through the skin, poking through the snake's mouth in a way that made him weirdly ill. Then, trying to adjust for the curve of his arm, he overcorrected and bit too deep, cutting into the muscle, and that made him cry out silently and stop for a long moment. 

Maybe it would have hurt less if he were quicker, but for this it only seemed right to be methodical and careful. 

It was quickly pointless to try to sop up the blood, and he let it flow. It got on his fingers and made the knife slick in his hand, and obscured what he was doing so he was operating almost entirely on feel. The towel was sodden and it was getting on the desk. 

He found the rhythm, though, the right angle and depth that let the skin part almost easily from the muscle beneath. He scraped through the connective tissues and worked his way up toward the elbow, and then it happened. The tip of the blade came out the top. With a few more quick, careful, painful slices of the knife, it was finished. The entire Dark Mark peeled up, on a single solid flap of skin wider than his hand and longer than the blade of the knife. He balanced it carefully on the blade and transferred it whole to the plate, adjusting the ragged edges just so to spread it out. A pathetic grey, faded testament to Voldemort's will and control, and it was gone. 

He was drunk on success. He didn't even care about the pain or the slightly woozy feeling of blood loss, it was done. He had done it. He was free. 

He hadn't meant to end the silencing spell on himself, but he must have because he heard himself laugh, and he didn't want to stop. He grabbed the cloth and pressed it over the skinned muscle, hissing in pain but still laughing as he slid down a bit in his chair, looking toward the ceiling. It was finally done. It was finally over. 

"Fuck you, Tom Riddle," he laugh-sobbed in a surprisingly hoarse voice. Maybe he'd been screaming more than he realised. 

Okay, his arm was really hurting. He made himself sit up and, with a wince, peeled the cloth from his arm, wiping away as much blood as possible from the exposed muscle. It was a weird sight, disturbing, glistening wet and red—

And black. As he wiped the space clean, the black loomed out of the blood, skull and snake as vibrantly dark as it had ever been on his skin, engrained in the twitching fibres of the working muscle.

He shrieked and staggered out of the chair like he could get away from his own arm, stumbling a step further and then falling to his knees, retching. His head was swimming, either from the blood loss or the cold laughter pounding through it… 

"Tolly," he croaked faintly, hand over his mouth, and heard her Apparate beside him. Her hand on his elbow was searing pain. "I think you should get some help now…"

#whumptober2023 #no.22 #alternate prompt #body modification #fic #harry potter #self harm tw #self mutilation tw #gore tw #blood cw #draco malfoy #tolly the house elf #self whump #draco whumpee #house elf caretaker #draco in his 20s #draco is injured #splendidissimus writing #whumptober 2023

[zriasstuff]

Final blow- Mattheo Riddle x reader

Mattheo Riddle oneshot; including a classic wizarding duel, tension filled atmosphere, and a cute ending <3 (SFW)

“For our next duel, I’m asking Mattheo Riddle and Miss Y/n to please step up onto the platform”

The words from professor Snape echoed through the duelling practice room, and as of right now everyone was staring at you two. It didn’t come as a shock to you when you were picked. Both of you were pretty much on the same level, with the exception of course that you had way less of an ego than Mattheo.

Defense against the dark arts was your favorite subject, especially when it came to doing hands on things. Duelling just happened to be one of your favorite things to practice. The tougher the opponent, the sweeter the victory, you believed. With Mattheo, you had to make sure that you would fight till the last moment, and to not go down without a proper fight.

“C’mon, go up!”, your friends encourage you, “You got this!”. They all believed in you, and told you that your chances were good, making you feel more secure in your skills. Through all the encouragement you got, you start moving towards where the showdown would take place.

As you go up, you look at Mattheo, who seemed confident to say the least. He knows he’s good and everyone else knows it too. Moreover, all the quidditch training certainly gave him a strong and muscular body to work with.

Before the duel begins, you scan the crowd one more time for looks and chants of support. “MAKE US RAVENCLAWS PROUD!”, you hear someone yelling amidst all the people. That you were extremely thankful for, since you could really use all the positive reassurance you could get. You quickly say thank you back to the crowd.

At the same time, the Slytherins must’ve seen this as another competition and started yelling all sorts of things in support of their representative too. Together, they sure looked like a mean bunch.

“YOU GOT THIS MATTHEO!”, his friend Blaise hollers loudly. Draco, right after, shouts out “YEAHH, DESTROY HER!”.

What a gentleman you mutter to yourself, and Mattheo must’ve heard it because you hear a slight chuckle escaping his mouth.

“Nervous”, he quietly asks you.

“Not at all”, you respond in the most self assured manner that you can muster.

He himself didn’t look nervous at all, but rather excited to have a “play partner”. Frankly you weren’t either, but you also knew that going up against him wouldn’t be easy.

Mattheo keeps looking you in the eye with a slight grin, so to match his energy, you hold eye contact with him too and make sure that your posture is straight. If you don’t look capable from the beginning, you are never going to make it to the end.

To commence this duel at last, Snape retells the rules of combat and announces that “only magical acts can be used as a form of offense or defense. You may disarm or harm your opponent, but must not seriously injure them.” Otherwise Madam Pomfrey would surely throw another fit at you “immature rascals”.

You were counting on disarming Mattheo to be your tactic. His fatal flaw was, noting from your past observations, being too aggressive, and not fully protecting himself. Besides that, he was flawless.

All eyes on you guys now, you start off by bowing to each other to pay your respects. “Good luck”, he whispers to you while you’re on eye level. “Same to you”, you reply, to make him know that you weren’t scared.

As Snape was counting down from three, you calmed yourself down once again, telling yourself that it would be fine. When Snape reaches the final number three, Mattheo immediately goes into the offense and casts several stunning spells, which you block with your shielding spell. You had practiced that one so often, that you could confidently utilize it at any given time. Mattheo keeps trying to push you back further. One after another, his attacking spells are blasted at you. And one after another you block them. It was a back and forth dance between you two, neither one of you budging yet.

He came alarmingly close though. One of his spells had caught your shoulder, sending an electrifying shock through your body. Another one had hit your torso straight like a bullet. That one had caused you the most pain. You grunted and held your hand over the wounded area, but it was still bearable. You just had to fight through the pain.

Both of you kept going, at this point recognizing that victory wouldn’t come easily to either one of you. Mattheo, looking forward to making things a little more playful, cheekily calls out “holding up pretty well for someone like you”. You knew he was trying to get you off of your game by sounding condescending. He was well aware of your capabilities. Therefore you clap back by saying “that shouldn’t come as a surprise, and you’re not as good as you think you are”.

Having said that, you hear a few murmurs amongst the students. Snape takes the time to remind you to keep the personal bashing to yourselfs until the duel is resolved. Mattheo seems to take it quite personally though, now casting out especially aggressive spells.

Even by then you are able to hold up, but there was still no opportunity to really harm him. The back and forth kept going to the point where neither of you saw an end to this.

After a while, having been so concentrated on defending yourself and managing your pain, you hadn’t even looked at Mattheo anymore to see how he was doing. You just saw his spells shooting at you. So, when you finally did look, you noticed that Mattheo was getting a little riled up himself and losing his edge. He always tries to keep his cool, to not show any signs of weakness. Yet, there you were, taking hit after hit, and not backing down. It made him frustrated to see his efforts not meeting his expectations.

After more exchanges of non sufficient spells, you are getting way too tired, and you decide it’s time to put this exhausting duel to an end. You just had to wait for the perfect moment.

In Mattheo’s mind, he was also just waiting for the perfect moment, hoping for you to retreat.

When you glance at the audience again for just a second, you see the gawking mouths of some of the Slytherins. Instantly, it boosts your confidence. If even they were stunned by you, then all was going right, and you knew you got this. If you could really defeat Mattheo, his ego was probably going to be bruised for a good several days at least.

Between further dodging spells, and shielding yourself, it was really difficult to find the perfect moment, though you had a feeling it would come soon enough. Mattheo was getting even more frustrated. His spells weren’t as accurate anymore. His arm was losing strength and going a little limp. And most important of all, his confidence became tainted.

While trying to catch his breath for a second, Mattheo simultaneously lowers his arm. During that one scarce moment, you decide to deliver the final blow.

“EXPELLIARMUS!”, you call out. Everyone’s eyes were wide open, seeing exactly as the spell hit Mattheo, causing his wand to fly across the platform, all the way into your hand. You catch it with precision, and watch his look of disbelief. You couldn’t even fully believe it yourself. He was done for.

“Wanna wave the white flag now?”, you cheekily ask him now, as he’s still trying to catch his breath. It was a little mean, but he could handle it.

Mattheo still can’t believe what just happened based on the look on his face. You see him scrunching his eyebrows, and mouth hanging wide open.

Although he knows he’s got nothing left, he still replies with “never”.

“As you wish”, you say with a wide grin, because in the next second, your final spell sent him flying across the room. Mattheo falls off of the duelling platform at the end, all the way onto the ground.

As his body hit the hard floor, all students from every house, except the Slytherins of course, started cheering for you. You felt as if you were on cloud nine hearing all their chants. Your heart was still beating rapidly, as if it was going to explode any second. A little part of you can’t believe that you just sent Mattheo flying across the platform, but the bigger part was gloating with pride.

You watch Mattheo prop himself up and walk back onto the platform to go up to you. He warmly, to your surprise, meets your gaze and brings out his hand to shake yours.

“Looks like you didn’t need luck after all”, he congratulates you. You’re taken aback for a second because this behavior of him wasn’t what you expected at all. He clearly notices and goes on to say “I rarely lose, but when I do I try not to be a sore loser”.

When he goes to his friends, he turns back and winks at you with a smirk plastered on his face. Winning was already quite the event, but Mattheo being a perfect gentleman weirdly made your insides churn.

…

You wait for everyone to leave the room after enough duelling was done for the morning. The reason was because you saw, from the corner of your eye, that Mattheo was also taking his time. You didn’t even know exactly why you were waiting for him.

Not that it was your planned intention, but you decide to go up to him and tell him that it was a great, although stressful, duel. Perhaps that would fuel some kind of conversation.

“No need to gloat”, he throws back at you. He didn’t sound all too happy, and maybe he did take the loss stronger than he showed at first. Your mind starts to spin and look for kind words. You definitely didn’t mean to insult him, so you quickly stutter out

“No- that’s not what I-”

Before you could finish that jumbled sentence though, he chuckles out loud, his eyes giving you a look of sympathy. His entire demeanor has changed now, the upset look from before just having been a facade.

“Chill, I was just kidding”, he cheerfully says. Seconds later he adds “You won fair and square, I’m actually really impressed with you”. It sounded like he meant it genuinely.

That compliment wasn’t something you expected. Relieved at his relaxed attitude, you choose to go along with his joking manner and respond with “I’m definitely going to hold that over your head forever”.

That earned you yet another precious chuckle from him. His laugh was truly contagious because shortly after you start laughing too. You had actually never expected that talking with Mattheo could feel so carefree and fun.

“Y’know I actually thought you were a lot more arrogant”, you honestly admitted to him during your talk. As far as the truth went, this was it. You could see that it had certainly been a little presumptuous of you to assume that about him.

“Well that’s because you don’t really know me and make pointless assumptions, but I don’t blame you”, he boldly calls you out on your prejudices too.

Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as you imagined, but definitely still cocky.

Suddenly he puts his hand on your shoulder, which makes you jerk back at first. The sudden contact just came as a surprise. He also takes notice, but when he sees that you don’t mind after the initial shock, he just kept it there. “So, wanna get out of here?”, he suggested. “We could talk and you could get to know me better”, Mattheo proposes, obviously referring to your previous statement.

“Well, how can I say no to that”, you comply while flashing him a gentle smile.

And with that, both of you leave the room, with Mattheo’s hand still wrapped around your shoulders.

#harry potter #oneshot #slytherin #slytherin boys #fanfic #mattheo riddle #ravenclaw #drabble #wizarding world #harry potter oneshot #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle oneshot

[swottydoodler]

POV: Draco takes home an injured otter only for it turn into a beautiful woman the next day. She names herself Hermione and is revealed to be a selkie.

She tells him she wants to go home but he can't seem to let her go just yet. After all, she's still injured, so he takes it upon himself to keep her otter skin in the meantime.

Just until she's healed...right??

#dramione #dramione fanart #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione fanfic #ottermione I love

[phoebe-delia]

I Have Never Been Loved Like This Before

Title from the song "Rock Me Gently" by Andy Kim. CW: very very minor injury

Scorpius will know gentle hands waking him in the morning. He will know lullabies sung low and soft in his ear. He'll have careful fingers sealing the bandage on his knees, and lips pressing a healing kiss to his injured skin. He'll wear colorful, soft clothes, have dozens of storybooks, and cuddle with plenty of stuffed animal friends to keep nightmares at bay. He'll never have a rotten Christmas or a lonely birthday. He'll want for nothing, but he'll never take it for granted.

"But most of all," Harry whispered to the pink-cheeked infant in Draco's arms, "I promise, that we will never let you know what it's like to feel unloved. "

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco/harry #harry/draco #draco malfoy and harry potter #harry potter and draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry potter x draco malfoy #hpdm #drarry squad #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry ficlet #drarry drabble #drarry fandom #hp fic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #phoebe-delia

[imjustagirlinthisworlddd]

I'M SO HAPPYY YOU OPENED REQUESTS !! can you do a draco malfoy x reader scenarios? something like 'draco malfoy who would carry you when your sleepy'

something like that pleaseee, thankyou love <3

hiii and yes ofcourse! enjoy reading!! <3

draco malfoy who would nervously ask you to go to the yule ball with him. draco malfoy who almost tripped on the stairs when he sees you in a white dress at the yule ball. draco malfoy who believes he's the only human being on earth that's allowed to insult you (he secretly loves you). draco malfoy who told crabbe and goyle to punch him a little on purpose because madam pomfrey won't let him see you unless he's also injured. draco malfoy who covers his whole face whenever you fluster him. draco malfoy that thinks of your laugh is angelic. draco malfoy that get's irritated when you laugh with someone else. draco malfoy who holds your chin between his thumb and index finger when he wants your attention. draco malfoy who would ask you if you just want to vent or if you want advice from him or even both, instead of making assumptions. draco malfoy who blushes at the tips of his ears every time you smile at him. draco malfoy who gifts you something because you mention liking it once. draco malfoy who lie his body on you when he's upset, his head on your stomach and his body between your legs as you drag your fingers along his blonde hair. draco malfoy who always need to have you close enough to touch you. draco malfoy who would cuddle up to you for hours. draco malfoy who would hold your hands in public. draco malfoy who can't sleep in his bed without you in his arms. draco malfoy who prefers kisses against your forehead rather than lip kisses when you're both cuddling. draco malfoy who keeps a box full of everything you give him even if it's the stupidest thing you've ever give to him. draco malfoy who admires you when your sleeping in his arms and pecks your cheek lightly before he sleeps. draco malfoy who carries you over his shoulder and refuses to put you down anytime you try to sleep on a different bed after you both argued.

#draco malfoy #dracomalfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco #malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco fluff #draco fanfiction #draco fanfic #draco imagine #draco oneshot #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy x reader #draco x reader fluff #draco malfoy fluff #fanfic #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n