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writingsbychlo · 4 months

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BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction.

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat.

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations.

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.”

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there.

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?”

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official.

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment.

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games.

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time.

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either.

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics.

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side.

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised.

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you.

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over.

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you.

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room.

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests.

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled.

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one.

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it.

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.”

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately.

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had.

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of.

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white.

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness.

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her.

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you.

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you.

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return.

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye.

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go.

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath.

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you.

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass.

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course.

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate.

Men did love a little attention, after all.

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down.

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar.

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere.

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed.

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch.

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone.

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through.

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat.

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low.

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover.

Until, Theo spoke up.

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you.

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth.

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from.

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair.

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend.

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after.

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know.

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one.

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk.

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return.

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing.

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night.

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered.

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you.

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment.

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.”

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them.

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…”

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away.

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip.

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents.

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment.

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.”

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps.

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye.

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you.

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features.

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all.

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news.

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more.

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted.

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes.

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats.

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left.

“Where are we going, Dray?”

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice.

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food.

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face.

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow.

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!”

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side.

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.”

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.”

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.”

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy/reader #draco malfoy/you #harry potter #slytherin boys #tom felton #draco malfoy x y/n

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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Text

teasing. | syltherin boy headcanons

author’s note: based on a request i received. i am feral.

- your boyfriends reaction to you teasing him under the table at dinner.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco had been in a proper fowl mood all day, and you could tell he was stressed, a clear mixture of a million different things floating through his mind.

You were literally counting down the seconds until you could finally be alone with him, but dinner was fucking dragging.

Sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but to sneak continual glances at him, noting his silver eyes darkened to a deep shade of grey, the tension in his jaw practically palpable as he stared at his plate like he could hex it into another dimension.

Just looking at him made your breath quicken, made your pulse soar.

Of course, part of you empathized with his shitty day, but the other part of you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there--

because, undeniably so, he’s at his fucking sexiest when he’s pissed.

As Pansy’s chipper voice filled the air, yammering away to a blissfully blazed Zabini, both of them seated across from you and your boyfriend, an idea sparked in your mind.

Without hesitation, you scooted closer to him, subtly enough to not draw any attention to yourself, but enough for Draco to shoot you a side-eyed glance, eyebrow raised.

Feeling his eyes on you, you kept your gaze on your plate as you brushed your hand against his thigh, testing his reaction.

You could practically hear him swallow, could practically feel his body tense, and you’d try not to smirk.

Thrilled, you’d inch your fingers further, tracing small patterns along the middle of his thigh before trailing upwards.

He’d shift on the bench, the veins in his hands tensing as he tightened his grip on his fork.

His reactions would fuel your fire, and you’d keep going, grazing over his crotch, and he’d groan, stifling it with a cough instantly, and that’s when he’d had enough.

Shifting his hand, he’d grasp your thigh, now--with an intensity in his grip so strong you’d almost squeal. A silent warning.

He’d lean in, his voice darker than the midnight sky as he’d whisper, “you’re lucky I have some dignity…but keep it up and I’ll bend you over this fucking table right now, in front of everyone.”

your grin would be unmissable, and you’d only make it another few minutes before he dragged you away from the table and back to his dorm.

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise was literally just eating. And that’s all it took.

That’s all it took for you to want him, to damn-near need him, right then and there.

He’d been flirty with you all morning, making you swoon over his every word with his typical Zabini charm, as though he was still trying to win you over.

You found yourself giggling like a goddamn first year more times than you could even begin to count while he was around, and it drove you crazy, in the best way.

You couldn’t help it, you just always wanted to be near him, kissing him, touching him. He just made you feel that needy. Effortlessly.

And that feeling carried over throughout the entirety of your day, and didn’t falter at dinner. Oh, not even in the slightest.

If anything, it intensified.

Just watching him, in his own little world, focused on his food, casually chiming into the conversation every now and then between bites--it just did something to you. Something you couldn’t explain.

The way the veins in his hands tensed with each movement, the confident aura that surrounded him, regardless of what he was doing, was just fucking intoxicating.

And so, while caught in a moment of both mental and sexual tension, you discreetly placed your hand on his thigh while continuing to eat, feigning innocence as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Blaise looked over, immediately, and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips.

But then, with his typical Zabini composure, he’d go back to eating, letting you keep your hand there.

As you dared to inch higher, he’d seamlessly continue conversing with his friends, as if entirely unaffected by your advances.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and to anyone else, it’d seem as though nothing out of the ordinary was transpiring.

At this point, you’d be completely convinced that you were enjoying this more than he was.

But then, as you’d get close to his crotch, dangerously close, he’d lean in, his voice so deep it’d send chills down your spine.

“You better stop.”

You’d grin, slowly moving higher, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Or what?”

“You just wait until I get you alone, babygirl…” he’d smirk, wetting his lips. “I’ll get you back real fucking good.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Lorenzo bloody Berkshire; your absolutely sexy, tease of a boyfriend.

Earlier, you had been paired together for an assignment in class, which had turned out to be the most infuriating part of your day.

Enzo was relentless in his teasing; partially because he couldn’t keep his fucking hands off of you, but also because he just loved getting a rise out of you.

All class he’d stared at you with those big brown eyes, biting on his fucking lip as he smirked at you, pressing his crotch against your ass as the two of you gathered supplies for the assignment, acting like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

By dinner, your head was spinning, your nerves were shot, and you were more than determined to get him back.

And you’d do just that; finding your perfect opportunity while he was casually eating, not really paying you much attention.

You’d shift closer to him, resting your chin on your palm as you fixed your gaze on him, smirking a devilish smirk.

“So, Enz, what do you think of the new charms professor?”

You’d inquire, your voice like honey as it slipped past your lips, your fingers brushing against his leg in unison.

As soon as your hand connected with his thigh, he’d freeze, not daring to look at you, but stalling his movements completely, staring down at his plate as though it’d just grown two legs and spoke to him.

You’d grin, pulling your lip between your teeth in an attempt to hide it, watching him as he’d slowly resume his chewing, his breath coming in shallower bursts as you inched higher, excruciatingly slow.

“I-uh…he’s, he’s good-“ he’d stammer, his voice cracking, clearing his throat to mask it. “Thorough.”

“Oh, thorough, huh?” You’d tease, grin widening. “Why don’t you elaborate on that?”

His jaw would tense, his lids fluttering shut for the briefest moment as you grazed his crotch, adding pressure as to really get back at him, to really give him a taste of his own damn medicine.

He’d be flustered, undoubtedly, but he wouldn’t dare stop you, playing it off until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Then he’d lean in, softly setting his fork down as to not arouse any suspicion.

“My dorm, right now.” He’d practically beg. “I fucking need you.”

Mattheo Riddle.

Teasing Mattheo was not something you did, ever.

Because ‘teasing’, with Mattheo Riddle, was not a concept. It simply did not fucking exist.

You’d attempted it a few times, over your months of dating, and each time you’d found yourself either bent over a table, on your knees for him in a way-too-public location, or edged until you fucking cried/begged for release.

Mattheo never failed to let you know that he’d take you whenever and wherever the fuck he pleased.

‘Don’t poke the dragon’ or ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ ; were very much literal phrases when it came to your boyfriend.

and so you made sure not to tempt him, unless absolutely fucking necessary--However, today, it was more than absolutely fucking necessary.

And why was that, you might ask? Two reasons.

First one being that you’d slept in his dorm last night and woke up late late for class; all thanks to him.

Even though you’d made sure to remind him ten bloody times to set the alarm, he’d somehow still managed to ‘forget’.

And the second one was because he just looked so goddamn fucking sexy, and you were displeased with the fact that you didn’t have time for morning sex.

Regardless, as he was picking at his dinner, looking unbelievably exhausted, you took your chances.

You leaned closer to him discreetly, casually placing your hand on his thigh. He’d instantly tense, legs spreading wider almost involuntarily, grip tightening on his fork.

You’d inch higher, excruciatingly slow, nodding to Blaise as he said something to you, causally entertaining the conversation.

Mattheo’s jaw would tighten, so much it’d genuinely look painful, his head bowing toward the table as you slowly moved upwards.

But then, he’d grow tired of your teasing and grab your wrist, hastily moving it to his dick as he huffed, dropping his fork and running his now-free hand through his hair.

You’d be fuelled on, leaning toward his ear to whisper; “I need you so fucking bad, Matty…”

He’d snuff a groan, his nails digging into your wrist as he continued guiding your hand, guiding you in palming him through his trousers.

“You’re going to regret this, princess…” he’d mutter, his voice torn and laced with promise. “Can’t keep your fucking hands off of me, can you?”

You’d increased your movements, feeling him grow unbelievably hard beneath your fingers, and you’d know he wasn’t bluffing.

“I should bend you over right here, show the boys just what a desperate little slut you are for me….”

You’d smirk, snuffing your giggling, and that would be the last straw. He’d drag you up from the table and fuck you in the nearest closet/empty classroom.

Theodore Nott.

You were fucking bored.

So unbelievably bored that you weren’t sure how much more of it you’d be able to take.

The conversations at the table were about nothing of particular significance, and if you had to endure another second of Enzo’s mindless babbling you were certainly going to be sick.

Theo was seated beside you, aimlessly picking at his food, also looking incredibly bored.

It was not unnoticeable that the two of you were about ready to fall asleep on the damn spot.

In a moment of desperation, you turned to your boyfriend, attempting to spark up a conversation.

“So, what are we planning on doing this weekend?”

As Theo looked up, you’d instantly grow warm, his stormy blue eyes swirling with admiration as he glimpsed your lips, his once flat features beginning to soften.

“Can’t speak for you Bella, but know what I have on the to-do list,” he’d murmur, leaning in for a kiss.

Theo was never one to shy away from PDA.

As your lips met in a quick, soft kiss, you’d smile as he slowly pulled back. “Oh, yeah? And what might that be?”

That’s when you’d put your hand on his thigh, slowly trailing it upwards, instantly causing his eyes to darken, his jaw to tighten.

He’d spread his legs wider, inviting you to keep going, and you’d gladly oblige, palming him eagerly as the two of you held eye-contact intense enough to make you dizzy.

he’d smirk, sucking in shallow breaths as he leaned in for another kiss, muttering against your lips;

“You…you, and you again…”

Someone at the table would playfully groan in disgust and tell you two to get a room, and you’d just laugh before Theo agreed and dragged you back to his dorm.

Tom Riddle.

If you had to listen to one more second of Tom Riddle talking about school related topics, you were going to find the nearest bridge and jump. zero hesitation.

You absolutely loved your boyfriend, loved him to fucking death,

but after he’d spent all afternoon drilling transfiguration concepts into your brain, you honestly just wished he’d drill something else into you, instead.

And by the time dinner rolled around, your brain was mashed potatoes, yet Tom remained completely fucking relentless.

In between bites of food he’d ask you to recite the animagus transformation theory, and when you’d undoubtedly get it wrong, he’d sigh, grabbing the book and reading it back to you.

But no matter how many times he’d repeat it, it didn’t fucking matter, your mind was gone, completely elsewhere.

To be more specific, your mind was lost in a sea of your thoughts, thoughts about Tom’s big strong hands gripping your hips, his strong frame towering over you as he-

Gods, this was complete fucking torture, and you needed it to stop, right now.

Loosening your tie around your neck, you glimpsed him, watching his dark eyes scan the page, watching his long fingers as he pointed at what he was reading to you,

As you undid a few of the buttons on your blouse, your hand fell gracefully, landing on his thigh for support as you leaned over him, looking down at the book,

“Can you repeat that part for me again, Tom?…” you’d murmur, voice a slow drawl, failing to hide your smirk as your felt him tense. “Silly me…I don’t think I heard you correctly…”

Tom would know exactly what you were doing, and at first he’d try to play it off, clearing his throat as he tried to decipher where the fuck he’d left off.

But then, as you continued to inch higher, grazing his crotch, he’d groan, slamming the book shut.

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” He’d hiss, the annoyance in his tone mingling with amusement.

“Let’s go before I bend you over the fucking table.”

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weasleyreidstyles · 4 months

Text

Serendipity Masterlist

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

series status: ongoing

“serendipity is the phenomenon of discovering something interesting or valuable by chance”

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18. and bellatrix isn't mattheo's mother in this fic (just fyi)

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

general warning(s): 18+ content, angst, fluff, some canon compliance, some canon divergence, typical wizarding world violence, war, torture, drugging, hospitals, familial problems, mean!harry, mean!ron....

** indicates smut warning

~∞~ chapter one

chapter summary: on the trainride to your sixth year, your friends give you a proposition that you can't refuse.

~∞~ chapter two

chapter summary: it's your first day back as a sixth year student. Classes are more intense and your first lesson with Mattheo ensues.

~∞~ chapter three

chapter summary: the first Hogsmeade trip of the year has a rather unpleasant ending.

~∞~ chapter four

chapter summary: after you end up confined to the Hospital Wing, you're surprised when Professor Dumbledore pays you a visit.

~∞~ chapter five

chapter summary: Mattheo has been avoiding you. You find and confront him after a frustrating week.

~∞~ chapter six **

chapter summary: the growing tension between you and Mattheo snaps. He reveals something about yourself that you has scarcely any prior knowledge of.

~∞~ chapter seven

chapter summary: joyful dinner parties and a switch in point of view. Two juxtaposing starts to the christmas holidays.

~∞~ chapter eight **

chapter summary: you're given plenty of revelations: all equally as daunting as the other.

~∞~ chapter nine

chapter summary: Ginny ambushes you in the library and Ron's birthday is off to a delirious start.

~∞~ chapter ten

chapter summary: in the aftermath of Ron's poisoning, Harry learns a thing or two about where your loyalties lie when he overhears your private conversation with the headmaster.

~∞~ chapter eleven

chapter summary: intent on avoiding him, you underestimate just how desperate Mattheo is to be around you.

~∞~ chapter twelve

chapter summary: new friendships are formed and you finally learn to control your abilities. Mattheo comes to a life altering realisation.

~∞~ chapter thirteen **

chapter summary: idk how to summarise this but i will say it's pure smut...enjoy

~∞~ chapter fourteen

chapter summary: friendships are rekindled and you save Draco from certain death in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, igniting your powers in the process.

~∞~ chapter fifteen

chapter summary: now fully recovered, Draco has a task to complete. The fate of the Wizarding World hangs in the precipice of his actions.

~∞~ chapter sixteen

chapter summary: after a startling and gutting discovery. secrets are revealed and alliances are questioned as Voldemort's tyranny begins to fester into the beginnings of another war.

~∞~ chapter seventeen

chapter summary: Dumbledore's funeral reveals new allies as you navigate a world without its protector.

~∞~ chapter eighteen (coming soon!!)

series oneshots/headcannons:

~∞~ tulips & starlight – valentines day drabble

~∞~ serendipity hcs (mattheo) – a glimpse at his life pre sixth year

~∞~ invisible string – bonus scene from chapter 16 **

series taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag, reblogs of the individual posts have an extended taglist)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

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frenziedfireworks · 8 months

Text

Bad Decisions

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary : You get a bit tipsy and seek out the company of the infamous fuckboy, Draco Malfoy.

CW : SMUT, 18+ Characters, Praise/Degrading kink, spitting in mouth, creampie/breeding kink, a few slaps, drunk!draco & reader, it's smut with a tiny bit of plot LMFAO, typical draco ego as well

masterlist

The lights blared as you chugged another drink. Your face felt hot and your blurry vision skimmed the crowd for white hair. You knew it was wrong and yet you had still came in hopes of seducing him. You knew his reputation and yet you really could care less.

Your eyes landed upon the infamous Slytherin and you practically drooled. His suit clung to his form and his grin made your heart flutter. He had to be yours tonight and you would stop at nothing to make that come true. Your feet walked over to him before your mind could even process.

“Draco..” You whispered and his cool eyes met yours. His friends seemed to have an amused smile as they pushed him away and continued the conversation by themselves.

“Y/N, I didn’t take you for a party-goer.” Draco’s speech slurred and you just shrugged. “Maybe I had a reason.” Draco’s eyebrow raised at the comment and his fingers came to trace your arm.

“Care to enlighten me?” His face was desperately close to yours now and you could smell the fire whiskey.

“How about I show you instead?” You gripped at his wrist and leaned in for a kiss. Draco was quick to respond, his hands yanking at your waist and the other trailing the bottom of your shirt.

“You know I won’t be able to stop.” His grunts filled your ears as you grinded up against his erection. Your hips were sure to be bruised tomorrow with the pressure of his grip.

“Then don’t stop.” You whispered and Draco all but groaned. He pulled you along through the crowd and out of the party. Before you knew it you were being thrown against his dorm bed.

You watched in awe as he whipped the door locked and slowly took off his shirt. His eyes never left yours as his hand messed with the zipper of his pants and he smirked.

“Tell me what you want.” You all but moaned as his trousers hit the floor and your mind fluttered with even more sinful thoughts. “I don’t have all day princess. Use your words.” Draco’s hand trailer across the bottom of your leg and you bit your lip. This is what you wanted after all.

“You.”

Your simple words seemed to work because Draco was everywhere at once. His lips trailed down your neck as he frantically rid you of your clothes. Your hands gripped at his hair as his tongue circled your pert nipples and he smirked.

“You like that? You want more?” He bit at the flesh of your breasts as his fingers traced the hem of your panties. You were well aware of the wet spot growing and how bad you needed him in you. You bucked your hips into him and pleas started to leave your mouth.

“Draco.. Draco please. I need you so bad.” Your hands clawed at his boxers and he all but shook his head.

“So desperate. I knew you’d come to me sooner or later.” Usually his egotistical comments would rub you the wrong way but you couldn’t even care in the moment. The only thing your fuzzy brain could think about was getting railed by the man on top of you.

“J-just fuck me!” You rasped and his chuckles filled the air. He didn’t need to say anything because he actions spoke louder than any words. You felt your panties being ripped off you and watched as his cock slapped against his stomach. His eyes devoured your nude form before leaning closer. His shaft rubbed through your folds and your head flew back. You couldn’t take his teasing.

“Dray-“

“Be quiet before I shove my cock down your throat.” Draco’s hand slapped at your thigh and his tip prodded into your entrance. You felt your eyes widen as he pushed fully in, bottoming out in a delicious fashion. Your walls clenched and Draco moaned.

“Keep that up and I won’t last five minutes.” His voice was hoarse as he slowly began to pull in and out. Your body jolted as his pace got more rough and desperate and you felt any thoughts you had slipping away.

“Fuckkk.. Take it. Take it like a good girl. Knew you’d love my cock.” Draco’s hand gripped at your jaw, opening your mouth. You watched as he spat and forcibly closed your lips. “Swallow.” You did as he said, moaning as he slapped your hip and smirked. “Good fucking whore.”

You felt the string in your stomach get tighter and tighter with each thrust. Draco’s pace became more sloppy and you knew both of you were on the verge.

“Fuck darling. C-can I cum in you?” Draco all but whispered as he chased his own high. You nodded quickly and clung to his body as his fingers rubbed at your sensitive nub. “F-fuck. I’m cumming. Take it..” Draco’s pace faltered and you felt his warm ropes of white fill you, your body finally reaching its euphoria.

Your body relaxed against the bed and you turned to get comfortable in the sheets. Draco slid in next to you and pulled the curtains around the bed for your privacy.

“Thanks darling. We should do that more often.” Draco’s voice cut through the silence. You rolled your eyes as you yawned. Tonight was not your best decision but you weren’t exactly denying the thought of another round.

“I’ll think about it Malfoy.”

“I’m sure you will.”

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy x you smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

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myers-meadow · 9 months

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Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader: That which isn't taught in books

Title: That which isn't taught in books

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x female librarian reader

Summary: Draco complains about you, the Hogwarts librarian, to his father. This results in the beautiful Lucius Malfoy paying you an unexpected visit. He is rather taken with you, and he shows you things you can't simply learn from books: your place.

Warnings: smut, blowjob, cum, spit, vaginal fingering, degradation, rough kissing, use of 'slut', praise, gloves, Lucius is Lucius and a that's a warning on it's own, consent isn't discussed but reader is into it, manhandling, (suspected) cheating, hair pulling (assumed reader has hair that can be pulled).

Wordcount: 3699

Dividers by by animated-glitter-graphics-n-more and delishlydelightfuldividers.

“Miss __, you must to lend me this book. I need it for class.” Draco Malfoy ordered, pointing to the book on top of the stack on your right. Third years aren’t typically allowed to borrow advanced books on dark magic, so it wasn’t on the shelves for him to take with a reason.

“No,” you simply replied, removing book from the stack and sending it to the topmost shelf with a wave of your wand. “That’s a restricted book and you need a permission slip from the headmaster before borrowing it.”

Draco scoffed. “I know you let Granger use the library outside the allowed hours.”

How could the damned kid know about that? What a menace.

“The book is still restricted.”

“Do you know who my family is?” Draco said, tapping the desk impatiently.

“Yes, I know your parents quite well. We are old friends, in fact,” you said, which was a lie. The Malfoys are well-known, and you’ve run into them before. Unpleasant was the best word for it, and you were glad the moment you didn’t have to deal with them anymore. Narcissa was alright, perfectly poised and therefore polite – but still raised rich and pureblood. Lucius, on the other hand, gave you nightmares that night. Even worse that you woke up wet between your thighs.

Draco scoffed, sending you a nasty look. “We will see about that, miss __.”

You sighed as he turned around and marched away.

It was later that week that the Hogwarts library had a surprise visit from a tall, white-haired man that reminded you so very much of the pest that was Draco Malfoy.

“So this is where the students are expected to borrow their books from,” said the cold voice, heavy with poorly veiled contempt. “Hogwarts seems to spend their funds… otherwise.”

“Good evening, sir,” you started, tone flat. “Have you come here to take a look around? I assure you our collection is larger than it seems here at the front desk.”

He raised an eyebrow, only now looking at you. “Miss __,” and even that alone sounds like he chastised you, “I’ve come here because of what my son told me of your behaviour. You pick on him and single him out, while the rest of the students are allowed to break school rules at will.”

Your shoulders tensed. So he was really here because of that small ordeal. And above all, it pissed you off that he didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself properly. Of course you knew who he was, but that he expected you to still remember him was infuriating.

“I see. Then you should be pleased to know that I don’t allow any student to break the rules, which includes your son. I do not play favourites.”

An amused smile played at the corner of his lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.” Your tone remained flat. Despite that, it was difficult not to let your eyes wander. Gods, did he dress up this fancy just to give you a stern talking to? He was delicious. With the snake tie pin mirroring the glittering of his cold gaze, the full three piece suit that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral, and the leather gloves he wore even though he had to cross half the castle to get here.

You continued, taking a deep breath to steel yourself – he noticed, his gaze flickering to your chest. “You may be under the impression, Mr. Malfoy, that professors of this school are easily pressured by empty threats, to give your son a leniency that I refuse to show him. This visit won’t change that, so I’d suggest you save yourself the time.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you past his nose. You were glad for the library desk separating the two of you, or you’d back away from him like a scared animal.

“I do not appreciate your tone,” he said, each word perfectly measured, low and menacing. Your adrenaline spiked, and your knees trembled. He leaned forward, and you fought the urge to take a step back. Even just that thought, of backing of, of yielding to him, he must’ve seen it cross your face, and smirked in response, clearly enjoying the hold he had on you.

A group of Hufflepuffs entered the library, giggling to themselves, until they saw the standoff you were in. “Let’s just come again later,” one suggested, and they left quickly, whispering to each other. You nodded at them, and moved your gaze back to the imposing man in front of you. From this close, you could smell the perfume he wore. Something warm like sandalwood mixed with citrus. Fuck, he was insanely attractive. Touching him would feel like the most luxurious velvet.

“I suggest,” he leaned in even closer over the desk, you felt the warmth of his breath fan your face, “that from now on, you make sure you assist in Draco’s education and let him borrow whatever books he wants.”

“If he has the right permission slip from the headmaster, Draco can borrow any book he likes. Without it, he can’t.” You could barely focus on his words with how close he was. “If you knew the book in question, you’d agree with my approach and be glad that I didn’t have a conversation about Draco’s interest of late.”

“And what book may that be, miss?”

“Forbidden hexes and curses. And he’s practiced some too, already. One may think he’s… a bit too interested in the Dark Arts.” You clacked your tongue and pushed yourself off of the desk, trying to clear your head. “It wasn’t a beginner’s book either.”

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere more… private.”

His velvety voice made your insides flip in nervous anticipation, which you attempted to calm with little success. So, that approached worked. The value purebloods place on image was such an easy win, but it felt good to hear his tone soften.

“My office is there.”

He moved around the desk and went first, waiting for you to move around him and open the door for him. Once inside, he shut and locked the door, and with a quick wave of his wand, the blinds shut themselves. His small smirk as he looked at you then was nothing short of predatory.

“Draco told me so much about you,” his voice was even more hypnotising than before, and he knew the effect he had on you as you breathed in sharply. He walked around you slowly, taking you in completely. Surely this was another intimidation technique of his, so you force yourself to stand your ground.

“He has?” you echo, not seeing the point of it, but wanting to delay the threats and the fight – and that deliciously wrong feeling of anticipation was building steadily inside your lower belly.

“The librarian,” his voice was smooth as silk, “who is so attractive that it keeps the students from their studies. A Slytherin, but surprisingly, you don’t know who or what is good for you.”

It sounds like he’s insulting you again. He stood still right in front of you, a finger coming to rest on your cheek. The contempt has returned to his expression, along with something else.

“You dress… well. Draco said you looked inappropriate, but he is just a boy. He gets silly ideas too quickly.” Lucius’ voice has softened considerably. The way you looked up at him made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to fight, flight or fawn – and the result is that you did nothing.

“Your concern for my appearance is noted, sir,” you managed to say. “Is that why you really came all this way? To make sure your son’s librarian dresses appropriately?”

A small chuckle broke the silence. “I must admit, you are more alluring than he said you were. Perhaps we can solve this disagreement in a more pleasurable manner. If you can learn your place, that is.”

You stared at him. The gloved finger tapping your cheek moved to your lips, slipping between them. The smell of the leather was strong and made your head swim.

“Or should I make it clearer for you? On your knees.” His condescending tone was unlike anything you’ve heard before: alluring, yet cruel. The velvet softness of his voice contrasted with the way he looked down at you past his nose. Such a regal face…

When you didn’t immediately obey, he pushed you down by your shoulders. The floor was cold even through the fabric of your skirt. The tip of his cane tapped your cheek lightly, but it was threat enough.

You gulped. Looking up at him from this angle was a sight to see, his amused expression, the smell of him, the texture of his glove in your hair were as intimidating as they were arousing.

“What’s the matter? I’m sure a big girl like you knows what to do.” His leather clad hand tugged open his belt and ripped open the buttons without a second of hesitation. His eyes glinted darkly with lust. Only when he tugged his cock free from his underwear, did you look away from his eyes. He was gorgeous, pulsing, rigid, the head flushed with blood, with just one teardrop of precum at the slit. Doubting your actions, you reached a hand up to grip him. Warm. Thick, too.

“Are you just going to sit there? Open.”

You obeyed, instinctively, and he groaned lowly as he slid his cock in your waiting mouth. Wetting the underside of his cock with your tongue, you teased the bit of skin just under the head, making it bounce against the roof of your mouth. His breaths came sharply, slowly turning to soft sounds of pleasure. He slid in and out as you sucked him, moving your lips along his shaft. Clearly he held back in showing just how good you made him feel – and your determination grew. You teased the head with vigour, and before you could settle on a rhythm, he forced himself in deep. Gagging and trying to swallow around him, he groaned, and the sound went straight to your core. Shifting your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache wasn’t close to enough. Lucius set a punishing pace for himself, deep and fast. In and out, and his length grew wetter and wetter with saliva and precum.

“What a pretty girl you are,” praised Lucius, in between hissed breaths and stifled groans. He held your head back by the hair then, and pulled your lips from his cock.

“You were made for this. Know just how to please your superior.”

A cruel gleam shone in his eye as he looked down on you, and he rubbed his cock over your face, coating it in your spit. His words rang true in a way that made you whimper pathetically. The humiliation burned. You broke out in a heated sweat, but the terrible empty throbbing of your cunt was enough for you to stay put. He pulls your head back on his cock, immediately pushing into your throat again.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans. The satisfied sadism in his expression has you dripping. “What great things even you can accomplish if you receive the right guidance.”

His ‘guidance’ came in the form of an insistent hand fisted in your hair as he fucked your face, without any care for your comfort. Now that his length was wet and slimy, it went in easier, but it still made you gag. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks, wanting to prove to him how good you could be. A small part of you, at the back of your mind, was disgusted by your actions and more so by how easily Lucius exploited your submissive streak. Yet, when you glanced up and saw the pleasure etched into his face, that voice quieted down. He looked sinfully good from this angle, and you enjoyed it through tearful eyes as he pushed at your gag reflex once again. In, out, slower, feeling the drag of your tongue on the underside of his cock, and moaning filth behind clenched teeth. Then, having enough of your tongue, his pace increased, pushing into your deeper and without mercy.

Eventually he let out a satisfied groan, and he pulled out from your mouth, drool spilling onto your blouse, and he stroked himself to completion, groaning harshly as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face. You gasped at how unexpected of and end it was, face burning at how degrading it was to sit there and take it, stunned at the audacity of this man. It may be true that you craved this from the moment you first met him, but that didn’t change that it made you feel both disgusting and desired like nothing else could.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, filthy girl?” His gloved hand twisted in your hair, angling your face so he could admire you. “You will leave this as it is. Merlin, you enjoy this, don’t you? Made such a mess of yourself. Filthy fucking slut.”

His words came through gritted teeth, and you feel the strength he’s holding back as he forced you to stand by your hair. You yelped. The cum left a nasty pulling sensation on the skin as it started to dry. You felt used, so used, and his disgust showed clearly on his face. Nevertheless, he pulled you close, forcing your head to his and he kissed you, with open mouth against your cum covered lips. Without a care that his cum smeared his face as well as yours, and the bitter aftertaste that it left in his mouth, he devoured you hungrily.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough. You obeyed. The moan he let out as he pressed his lips to yours again was the most lewd sound you’d ever heard. Your tongues entwined, the taste of his seed mingling with saliva. It was gross, but in the best way. You made him like this, was the thought that shot through your mind, you made him gross and lose control. And you did all of that just by being you.

Teeth clashed and you winced, but he barely seemed to notice. He was so rough, so uncoordinated, yet it was the hottest thing you ever felt. Spirals and sparks of heat radiated in your belly. The hand in your hair let go, to great relief, and wrapped around your throat instead. The kiss grew fiercer still. He consumed you. All of you. His teeth tugged at your lips, nipping harshly enough for small stings of pain, but they were soothed over with the warmth of his tongue. His nose pressed against your face with how far he leant into you, how harshly he pulled your face against his.

This hunger was a world away from his earlier disgust.

When he let go, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, passionate and heated. He wiped the cum from his nose and lips, and licked it from his gloved fingers. Your eyes fluttered just at the sight of him. And it was you who caused this, who brought out this side of him, all dishevelled, messy, stained… All for you.

“It seems you do know your place well, dear librarian. How about a reward, then? Do you think you deserve one?”

All you could do was nod.

He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk, and he lifted you up until you were seated. “Legs wide. Good girl.” He spread your thighs as he stood between them. His gloved fingers dragged over the sensitive skin of your innermost thigh. You were positively throbbing. Have you ever felt arousal this strong while completely untouched? You hated him for it.

“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” you whimpered, already growing impatient.

Tugging at the cotton of your panties, he said, not a question, but an order: “Why don’t you take those off for me.”

You stumbled to comply. Before you could say anything, he silenced you by sliding two fingers in your mouth, and you wet them without being prompted to. The leather tasted like his cum, bitter. The texture was pleasant on your tongue. He hummed, pleased, as he slid his fingers out.

“Who knew you’d be such a quick student? But then again, they do say librarians have a wide variety of knowledge.” And his finger found your clit. “How’s that?”

You whined sharply as he increased the pressure, but didn’t move his fingers, still depriving me of the friction I craved.

“Or rather here?” and he slid his fingers to your slit, dipping in, before moving back up, bringing the slick with them. “Aren’t you a wet little slut.”

His middle finger slid in to the knuckle, with embarrassing ease. You moaned softly, brow furrowing. It felt right. So right. So perfect. This is what you were made for, for such a feeling, of being filled, of being used by a man as beautiful as Lucius Malfoy. Your eyes locked and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his stare.

“What a sensitive young woman you are,” he said, voice soft, yet with a darkness to it. “No one’s touched you this good before. And no one will, after.”

He pulled his finger almost out, then pushed it back in, setting himself a slow and deep rhythm, curling it deep inside. Each time he hit that spot inside, your gasps and moans became a little higher, a little more desperate. You clung onto his shoulders, and he leaned so close your noses touched.

“You look quite beautiful like this… Who knew it would be this fun to put a librarian in her place?” it almost seemed he talked to himself moreso than to you. One finger became two, but his pace remained the same. Steady, in, out, in, curling, out. The drag of his gloves made it even better, and when you looked down, they were wet and creamy from how wet you were. You whimpered as he followed your line of sight, and slammed back in harder. And harder. Now that his pace was steadily increasing, so were the sensations, growing hotter quick. He tipped you over the edge and you nearly screeched – but he kept going, the orgasm prolonging itself until you reached a second high, so high it was painful - and he moaned along with you, slowing but not pulling out. When he finally stilled, both of your breaths were sharp, as though you’d just ran up five flights of stairs. He kissed you again, messily, as he pumped in and out just a few more times, enjoying the twitches of your aftershocks.

“What a good girl,” he purred, and he pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was jarring and you clenched around nothing. His fingers slipped past your lips, and you sucked them clean obediently. “What a good girl,” he repeated, with emphasis and a fond undertone. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Even after coming down from the orgasm, the hazy feeling stayed, making your head swim as you looked at the man in front of you. He kissed you again, and it was borderline uncomfortable with the drying cum still on your face. He was softer, a wet kiss, he was savouring you.

“I dearly hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, my sweet librarian,” he said, and before he left, with a wave of his wand, he grabbed your panties and left with a last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Although I expect you to behave from now on.”

Before you went to sleep that night, you replayed what happened over and over again, and despite the unsatisfiable desire, there was also anger. This man has a wife! You were livid. How could he do this? Not even the degradation – but that you let yourself be treated like that by a man who has a wife!

The next day, during your lunchbreak, the largest bouquet of roses you had ever seen was delivered to the library. There must’ve been more flowers in it than in the entire flower shop in Hogsmeade. The ridiculous arrangement sat on the desk, crowding over all the books. The delivery witch had you sign for them, but refused to tell you who they were from. You shook your head, as you sank down on your chair, staring at them. You didn’t have a vase big enough.

While you were preparing and cutting the stems, you found a note. ‘L. M.’ Was all it said and it filled you with annoyance.

Lucius. Your eyes shot fire at the mention of his name. How dare he play this off in this way. What a condescending gesture, to buy you roses just to stake some sort of claim on you. To remind you of what the two of you did the day before, to keep you in line. Resolutely, you throw the note in the paper bin. Perhaps you should send him a note too, and tell him to save those roses for his wife.

Now what? This many wouldn’t even fit in any garbage bin - not without attracting a horrible amount of attention. Perfectly pristine flowers thrown away would cause enough drama, more than keeping them would. So you, sigh, and continue trimming the stems, getting your anger out with each snip. There was enough to set a few flowers in small vases, or mugs, when those ran out, on each table in the library. The anger had faded by the time it was done, and you looked out over the suddenly very colourful library. Who will water them each morning? You’d never get around to your actual job like this.

What was left of the encounter, was that nagging feeling, of being special. Special enough to have watched such a powerful man as Lucius Malfoy become undone. You smiled softly as you stacked several returned books in your arms. Perhaps this wasn’t over yet.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy fanfic #lucius malfoy fanfiction #lucius malfoy x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #lucius malfoy imagine #harry potter #death eaters #lucius malfoy x female reader

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stationintern · 2 months

Text

Hello there!

I spent Valentine's Day ruining patrons' nights at my restaurant by telling them our computers were down, but what can you do, you know? Other than that, February was a good time. I was able to read a lot more, and prepare a more in depth list for you, even if it's short.

Hope you enjoy!

Bridges by @cavendishbutterfly E, 16.1k

Reading this felt like getting a personal tour of Budapest. The reverence the author has for the location shines through and gives you a lovely look at a new location. I find Harry exploring his sexuality abroad especially interesting- as if being somewhere else allows him a sort of freedom he wouldn't find at home. There's an appreciation for beer in this fic that I appreciate, since beer is one of life's greatest treasures. I especially loved Cho Chang being a main character in this fic. I love seeing her being utilized in such a fun way when she was done so dirty by she who shall not be named.

Thickets by @wolfpants E, 17k

There are some insane lines in this (very positive), along with some very fun portrait dialogue. Gut-wrenching and extremely intimate. Some scenes can leave you feeling like you're intruding on a very personal moment as a reader. I love a Harry Potter who's a bit obsessed with Draco. ALSO, this fic contains one of the hottest wet dreams I've ever read. Do with that what you will.

Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor E, 54.3k

Harry is very horny. Like, at times, this fic is so sexually charged it's almost unbearable. In a very good way. The clothing descriptions make me want to touch those mittens and hats so bad. I know they'd be soft and so fucking squishy. A few things this fic includes: one bed, a lack of magic, for a while, that is perfectly reasonable, and Harry's thing for Draco's teeth (they're like a military cemetery, if you even care.) Also, the sexual allure of someone struggling to get into an attic (I get it,) and Draco's daddy issues (typical but welcomed.) Diagnosis: Extensive therapy. For everyone. Even the dog. ALSO, these boys have STAMINA.

Recursion by @tessacrowley E, 132.5k

As I said in a previous post, "Sometimes you just have to zap Draco Malfoy into the past and let him live for years as the wizard Young Sheldon." This fic will give you WHIPLASH, but it won't be nearly as bad as Draco's. This boy(man?) goes through it. Absolutely engrossing. I couldn't stop reading until I was finished. I love a good canon rewrite, and @tessacrowley has now written my two favorite fics in that genre. Their characterization of Draco is always spot-on in whatever context they put him in. Show-stopping, fantastic, wonderful.

See you next month! XX, Moon.

#drarry fic rec #draco x harry #drarry #drarry fic #moons monthly fic recs

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suugarbabe · 9 months

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I love the twins too!

Imagine Draco practicing the imperious curse o! different students and he does it on the reader and she starts acting differently but one of the twins (you choose 😉) notices and tells everyone and they try to break her out of it but he is the only one who can because she’s in love with him … or something like that lol

Ohh interesting interesting… I’ll give it a go

Under the Influence

pairing: Fred Weasley x Y/n

Warnings: None, lil fluffy

Things had been getting weird at Hogwarts. This year the school was hosting the TriWizard Tournament, and the school got yet another new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Moody was not like the typical DADA professors that came through. It was rumored that he showed the fourth years all three unforgivable curses. Fred could only laugh in disbelief when his brother told him.

“I’m being serious!” Ron squeaked, still a little unnerved, “He showed us all three and he used a…spider.” He whispered the last word like it was more foul than the curses themselves. George rolled his eyes, “You’ve really got to get over that Ronald. Makes you look like a wuss.” Ron rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself before starting to stuff his face.

You walked up to your seat next to Fred to find the three brothers still discussing the events of the DADA class, as well as Ron’s fear of spiders. “You know Ronald you really should get over that fear,” you chimed in, the twins stifling a laugh. Ron finally piped up, “Moody really is mad, I’m telling you. Him showing us these curses like it’s no big deal is gonna cause the Slytherins to start bloody trying them.”

You scoffed, “Don’t even say that Ron, they can’t do that.” Ron raised his eyebrows, “I heard Malfoy was trying the imperius curse on some first years.” Your jaw dropped, moving to stand from the table “Absolutely not, where is that vile piece of sh-”.

“Woah there, love, sit back down,” Fred laughed, grabbing your hips and making you sit back down on the bench. You huffed crossing your arms and pouting slightly, “The next time I see Malfoy, he’s fucking done for.” Fred patted your head, “Okay darling, just be careful.”

———————

You had your head down as you were leaving potions, thinking about all the homework you had to complete that evening. As you turned the corner your body slammed into someone, nearly knocking both you and the other to the ground. You heard a scoff as a sinister voice scolded you, “Watch where you’re bloody going, Y/l/n.” You looked up to see none other than Draco Malfoy. You rolled your eyes, picking up your textbook you dropped on the ground, “Having fun torturing innocent first years, ferret boy?”

Malfoy glared at you, “Oh I’m having the most fun, but I bet I’d have more fun doing it to you.” You stood your ground in front of him, “You don’t have the fucking balls to do shit to me, Malfoy.” With that you pushed past him, starting to walk toward your next class. You didn’t make it five steps before you felt a tingling sensation come over you, then a blanket feeling of calm and relaxation, like you were in a trance. You felt someone’s breath on your neck before you heard Malfoy’s voice in your ear, “Looks like I’ve got more than you anticipated, Y/l/n.”

Your brain was telling you to freak out. To run, to scream, to do anything of your own free will but you couldn’t. You went to the rest of your classes in a trance, not fully being able to pay attention and just going through the motions. When it was time for dinner you walked toward the great hall like you always did, walking up to your table. Fred smiled at you, scooting over for you to take your usual seat next to him.

You ignored him, going to the other side of the table to sit next to Ron. You were friendly with Ron, but you were the twins' friends first. Fred’s smile fell, “Y/n/n, what are you doing?” You didn’t look up from your plate as you spoke, “Sitting next to the cutest Weasley.” Ron’s cheeks immediately flushed pink and George and Fred both looked at each other with utter confusion. Ron was opening and closing his mouth like he was trying to respond but you cut him off, “Don’t talk Weasle-be”. Fred tilted his head at the nickname, something felt off to him.

He looked past you and Ron to see Malfoy staring at you from the Slytherin table. “Hey, Y/n, did you ever run into Malfoy today like you planned?” Fred saw a smirk curl onto Malfoy’s face from across the great hall as you shook your head, “Nope, haven’t seen him.” He huffed, not quite satisfied with your answer, though the others seemed to shrug their shoulders and continue on with their meal. As dinner concluded you got up and started heading back toward your dorm.

The others followed shortly after you. Fred quickly caught up to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you off to the side as the others continued to pass. “Are you okay, y/n? You seem a little…off?” You shook your head, “I’m not off, I’m perfectly fine.” Your tone of voice was flat. You wanted so badly to scream but you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything. Fred quirked an eyebrow, “You don’t seem like yourself, love.” You widened your eyes slightly, the most control you felt like you had. You tried to pull yourself out of the curse Malfoy put you under but all you could do is make your eyes get slightly teary.

At this Fred grabbed your arm and quickly got you back to the Gryffindor common room, calling out for Hermione desperately as room as he stepped through the portrait hole with you in tow. He sat you down on the couch as Hermione came rushing down the stairs, “What is it Fred? What’s wrong?” The others were quick to follow her, seeing what the commotion was about.

“It’s y/n, I think somethings wrong. I think she actually did run into Malfoy today. I bet he used the imperius curse on her,” Fred was boiling mad, clenching and unclenching his fists. Hermione crossed her arms, “That seems like a stretch doesn’t it, Fred?” George nodded, “Yeah, Freddie, how can you tell?” Fred just shook his head, “I just know. I know this isn’t Y/n.” Your turned to look at Fred and he met your eyes, you could see it in his face how worried he was about you and it made your heart sore. You’ve heard of some witches and wizards being able to break out of the imperius curse on their own and you kept trying, but the best you could do is make yourself stutter over the response that wasn’t truly how you felt, “N-no, Weasle-be I’m f-fine. You can l-leave me alone now.”

At that Hermione’s posture stiffened, “Okay you’re right friend. The only person I’ve ever heard call you guys that is that slime of a boy, Malfoy.” Hermione stood in front of you, taking your hands in hers. You met her eyes as she spoke, “I can tell you’re trying to fight it y/n, you’re struggling saying what I’m sure Malfoy has instructed you for certain situations.” Your eyes welled up again as you involuntarily plastered on a smile.

The ground struggled with how to help you. Hermione educated them on ways to break the curse, that some powerful witches and wizard can break it of their own free will, while other times the curse can last until the caster has died. George, Ron and Harry all agreed to happily kill Draco for his actions. Hermione hit them all on the arm, telling them to be realistic. The last Hermione knew of was the curse just waring off. They discussed how long Draco may have set the curse to last.

Fred shook his head, “That goblin shit could have set it for a day to a month. We can’t just wait around and see.” He turned on the couch to face you, making your body do the same to him. He grabbed your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. You loved his eyes. They were the prettiest color hazel, brown mixing with green in the most mesmerizing way. “I’m gonna try something, okay y/n? Don’t get freaked out, I just wanna see if it works,” he spoke, looking from your eyes to your lips and back.

Your heart rate started to pick up as you understood what he was implying he was about to do. He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, apparently not wanting the others to hear what he was about to say. “I’ve also just been wanting to do this for a while, so hopefully this works and you can tell me you’ve been wanting to do this as well.” The others stood, waiting with anticipation on what Fred could possibly do that they haven’t already discussed.

Fred leaned his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” he mumbled. Ever so gently, Fred met your lips with his. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of this scenario for months. His lips were soft against yours, you wanted so badly to reach up and tangle your hands in his read locks and pull him closer. One of Fred’s hands slid from your cheek to the back of your neck to pull you closer. In an instant your hands shot to his neck, one arm wrapping around him as the other tangled itself in the hair at the back of his neck like you had been fantasizing about.

After another moment or two you pulled away, breathing heavily but a goofy grin plastered on your face. Fred looked at you with hooded eyes, “There she is, there’s my girl.” Your cheeks tinted pink at his verbiage. You turned to look at the others who just stood there, dumbfounded looks across their faces. George was the first one to form a different facial expression. Unsurprisingly it was a smirk as he spoke up, “I can’t wait to tell Jordan this. He owes me ten galleons now.”

You quickly grabbed a pillow, chucking it at the boy. You turned back to Fred, “How did you know that would work? That kissing me would help me break from the curse?” He shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t know for sure, but I couldn’t just wait around and let a grease ball control you.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair behind Fred’s ear before pulling him into once more.

#harry potter #golden era #fred weasley #draco malfoy #george weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #nonny bo bonny

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iamnmbr3 · 2 months

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Draco's Motivations in the Book 7 Room of Requirement Confrontation

I just reread the Fiendfyre sequence and based on a close reading Draco's motivations and actions are a lot more complex and sympathetic than I remembered. Not to mention, once again, here there be drarry.

First, the context:

After the incident at Malfoy Manor, we know from Harry's psychic connection to Voldemort and from the Carrows' overheard discussion that Voldemort's wrath was exceptionally terrible. The Malfoy family became virtual prisoners in their own homes for months and were subjected to especially brutal (even by Voldemort's standards) torture that was also likely quite protracted. Lucius has visible marks on him months later - which, given what we know about magic in that world, really speaks to the level of what has been going on. While he probably got the worst of it, it's certain that none of his family members escaped unscathed. After their other failings they have at this point probably permanently fallen out of favor and have nothing but a (likely short) life of misery to look forward to.

Draco bears a lot of responsibility for this state of affairs since it was he who chose not to identify Harry. This likely adds to his sense of conflict as his conscience tells him one thing and everything he has ever been taught tells him something else. He presumably feels responsible for the suffering his family (we know from book 6 that he does genuinely care about them) has to endure.

Not to mention that he himself is suffering along with them. It would be unsurprising therefore if he felt tempted to "rectify" his earlier moment of what he probably perceived as weakness and made a last ditch attempt to save his parents' (and his own) lives and prestige. While Harry has been taught that love and mercy are noble and valuable impulses, Draco has not. In his world love and mercy are called weakness.

Quite possibly as he suffered and faced death alongside his family, part of him must have felt ashamed of the impulses that led to his choices when Harry was a prisoner at the Manor. Everything he has been taught tells him that Voldemort's victory is inevitable and that his moment of shameful weakness has accomplished nothing except to fail his own family and condemn them (and himself) to a likely short life filled with suffering.

At most what we see in the Room of Requirement is a replay of what we saw on the Astronomy Tower - where Draco is deeply conflicted and when confronted with the reality of violence in support of Voldemort cannot go through with it even under tremendous pressure and even though his failure to carry out these acts of violence will inflict danger and suffering on himself and his loved ones.

But, is that even what actually happens? In my opinion, the answer is "no."

The scene in question:

If we actually look at the text it's not even clear that's what's going on at all. Draco's motives are ambiguous at best here. The scene starts when Harry is stretching out his hand to take the diadem. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle come up behind him and he is completely unaware of them. Draco then announces their presence, alerting Harry that he is being watched. He could've very easy simply stunned Harry or attempted to put the Imperius Curse on him (or killed him) while his back was turned. But he didn't do any of those things. Instead he talks, thereby ruining the element of surprise.

And that's not typical of Draco at all when he actually wants to attack Harry. He's never beaten Harry in a face-to-face confrontation. (In fact, the last time he tried - in 6th year - he almost ended up dead.) The two times he has managed to incapacitate Harry - when he petrified him on the train in 6th year and when he hid and caught Harry for Umbridge with a tripping jinx in 5th year - he did so by using the element of surprise to his advantage.

Given that Draco knows that Harry is a very formidable opponent (AND that Harry's friends are nearby) if he truly simply wanted to capture or kill him, announcing his presence is the last thing he would ever do. Then he says "That's my wand you're holding." He still doesn't cast any spells - not even to try to disarm Harry. He also doesn't say he wants to hand him over to Voldemort. He doesn't even tell Harry to drop his own wand, attempt to take him prisoner, or even threaten him.

It is Crabbe, not Draco who says "We're gonna be rewarded...We decided to bring you to 'im." Draco doesn't say anything about his own intentions other than that he wants his wand back - and we certainly know that even in 6th year he didn't trust Crabbe and Goyle, much less now, and thus is unlikely to speak openly in front of them.

At this point Ron comes to investigate and Crabbe tries to use magic to cause a mountain of debris to fall on Ron and crush him. Harry counters the spell and Draco then grabs Crabbe's arm when he tries to repeat the spell. He gives as his justification the need to avoid the diadem being crushed but since we know he doesn't trust Crabbe it's likely this isn't truthful. Especially since Voldemort has not said anything about wanting the diadem (and even if it wasn't a Horcrux it likely wouldn't be damaged in any case).

Crabbe points out this very thing and Draco argues with him at which point Crabbe says "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished." So arguably he was not even including Draco in the "We" he imagined would be rewarded. Crabbe then tries to use Crucio on Harry.

Draco then again intervenes and tries to stop him.

"STOP" Malfoy shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. "The Dark Lord wants him alive--"

He doesn't even just say it. He shouts. We rarely see Draco shout. He is someone who generally keeps his deeper emotions hidden - it's why he's so naturally gifted at Occlumency to the point that he is powerful enough at a young age to lie to both Snape and Voldemort.

What he says here doesn't really even make sense because Goyle isn't even trying to kill Harry; he's just trying to hurt him. However Draco is so distressed by this that he actually starts yelling, something we NEVER see him do at ANY other point in the book. "The Dark Lord wants him alive" is also exactly what Snape says to Bellatrix as they flee in book 6, and we know that Snape's real intent was to protect Harry with a believable excuse. It's the only thing Draco could reasonably say in that moment as a justification.

Crabbe (rather sensibly) points out that 1) he didn't even try to kill Harry and 2) Voldemort ultimately wants Harry dead so it probably doesn't matter that much. This makes perfect sense. And yet Draco is inordinately concerned with preventing harm to Harry & Co rather than with taking any action to capture or even disarm any of them.

Clearly he did not expect to lose control of Crabbe and Goyle like this and as a result is now losing control of the situation (and himself). (Unlike Harry, Draco is more of a planner and is not as good at reacting in the moment.) Also the possibility that Harry could be killed seems to drive him nearly to the point of hysteria - rather like how Ron reacted to Hermione being in mortal peril at the Manor. This is not just a general aversion to killing. This is something more. He finds the idea of Harry dying truly unbearable. (I don't need my ships to be canon; this one just happens to be.)

At this point they start fighting and Draco loses Narcissa's wand. Wandless, he STILL tries to intervene. Crabbe and Goyle are both aiming their wands at Harry and Draco once again starts yelling - "Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" and is obviously in significant distress and is not at all happy with what is going on.

After that the Fiendfyre gets loose and the rest of the scene goes down without much dialogue.

At NO POINT does Draco 1) actually say he wants to hand Harry to Voldemort OR 2) attempt to attack Harry or Ron or Hermione at all OR 3) use his Dark Mark to call Voldemort OR 4) tell anyone he's seen Harry after they get out of the Room of Requirement - even in a later scene when he's been cornered by a Death Eater who is considering killing him he doesn't reveal this information even though that probably would've proven his loyalty or at the very least distracted the Death Eater.

Conclusions about Draco's motivations:

So, where does that leave us? What went down there and what was Draco trying to do?

We really have 3 options.

Option 1: Draco tried to hand Harry over to Voldemort in order to save himself and his family, got cold feet and couldn't really go through with it, and then lost control of the situation due to Crabbe and Goyle's changing loyalties.

Verdict: Possible but unlikely given the remarkably bad job he does of it and how inconsistent his approach is with his usual MO. Even if we assume his heart wasn't in it you'd think he'd at least have got as far as disarming Harry before announcing his presence. Especially since Harry almost killed him last time they fought (and Draco probably doesn't know Harry didn't know what the Sectum Sempra curse would do.)

And if his heart WAS in it then then this makes even less sense since he not only didn't attack Harry while his back was turned but also didn't call Voldemort or even inform anyone that he'd seen Harry.

Option 2: Draco wanted to get himself captured in a way that looked convincing so that he could take the chance Dumbledore offered in 6th year, only it went quite badly wrong.

Verdict: This would be an interesting possibility but I think it's also unlikely as it's simply too risky. He doesn't know Harry was there on the astronomy tower or that Harry would make the same offer. His family would also likely be murdered if Voldemort realized this had happened.

Option 3: Draco wanted to cut a deal in order to improve his family's situation without actually handing Harry over - perhaps he hoped for some kind of exchange where he could get his wand back and bring Voldemort the diadem as some kind of consolation prize - but overestimated his control over his cronies and lost control of the situation.

Verdict: I actually think this works best given his behavior during the scene. He initiates a conversation because he wants information about what and where the diadem is (and what value it would have to Voldemort) and because he wants to make some offer along the lines of 'give me my wand and the diadem and we'll let you go.' This could get him what he wants and help his family without actually harming anyone.

Also it hedges his bets a bit because if Harry wins he will owe Draco. The problem of course is that Crabbe and Goyle aren't happy to just take orders anymore and have their own goals. At that point, instead of caving and going along with what Crabbe and Goyle want to do instead, Draco actually tries to intervene, albeit in a way that doesn't actually expose him as questioning Voldemort.

Draco made his choice at the Manor. If he wanted to hand Harry over he would have. But he couldn't. He cares about him too much. But he also feels tremendous guilt and fear over the price he and his family are still paying for that decision. This is his attempt to try to fix things - to try to find a middle ground between the conflicting imperatives that are tearing him apart. The reality though, as he shortly discovers, is that there is no middle ground. And when he sees that, once again he chooses Harry.

#hp reread #meta #my meta #Harry Potter meta #Draco Malfoy meta #drarry meta #Harry Potter #harry potter and the deathly hallows #hpdm #h/d #harry x draco #draco x harry #harry/draco #draco/harry #harco #drarry in canon #Draco Malfoy #drarry #my post

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teledild0nix · 3 months

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what are thee best drarry fics to read in this day and age? I've not read any for a few years and I don't know what's good 🤔

what an incredibly flattering question! i do not know what your tastes run to, but here are a few of my recentish favorites in no particular order. i think these are all m or e, as that tends to be what i go for. they're also properly adults, well out of hogwarts, and the stories are sort of mid length, over 10K, under 100K. make sure you read the tags!

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet coming in hot!!!! i feel like this is a very very profoundly drarry story. we are fucked up in some of the same ways so let's do weird sex about it. dark, weird, very tender. incredible atmosphere. loved it!!!

In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites this is like an AU hopping fic where draco is on the run for Reasons, and harry is chasing him. not with state violence in his heart. please come home. EXQUISITE worldbuilding, one of my favorite things about Tee's fics. This fic is so fun and there are also some really heartwrenching moments that i won't even come close to spoiling. god i love it it's so fucking good

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart this fic is orphaned but i actually do know the author very well (and love him with all my heart). this is an amazing draco. he's dealing with some significant trauma on top of what he went through in canon. all i'm gonna say is werewolf draco cinematic universe my beloved. i love this harry, too. compulsively doing the right thing even as it fucks his whole life up. yum.

Home Truths another @skeptiquewrites fic bc Tee's writing got me WEAK. i rlly love the ensemble here!!! harry and draco are both amazing characters whom i adore, but they are also surrounded by other characters who feel so real and so lived in. wonderful worldbuilding as per usual w this author. and. harry is a pro athlete at the peak of his career so uh. he do be inhabiting his physical form. it's sexy okay. damn. Tee has a talent for capturing Draco's drama and prissiness without making him feel like a caricature. i found this story genuinely inspiring for lots of reasons, and i can't say enough good things about it.

Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo (this one is locked to the archive, so you'll need to be logged in to read it) god i love this story!!! food as a love language? gender magic? fucking YES PLEASE. it's nice to see them get out of the typical Stately Homes backdrop (i enjoy that too, but. well i'm not going to go off on a tangent about it now. variety is the spice of life!). lots of sensuality here and a heaping dollop of straight up fucking. i just love this depiction of them. i love draco's offers of vulnerability and harry's diving in face first. LOVE.

A Gift of True Esteem by ME! i am big enough to acknowledge that i write fucking good fic okay!!! hogwarts professors, chronic illness, historiography, gratuitous use of patronuses, fun world building in general. harry has been self-isolating a little bit. burying himself in his work. he has to let himself feel things again. joy, love, pleasure. draco makes him want to.

Names for a House this is also by me bc it's my fuckn list and i do what i want!!! harry is raising teddy lupin after andromeda gets sick (don't worry i do not kill off any old ladies in this fic). harry is also the wizarding world's first novelist. teddy lupin is a budding werewolf about to go off to hogwarts, and harry is not sure how to do right by him. FORTUNATELY harry's erstwhile nemesis and current cursebreaker is also a werewolf and teddy's cousin, and he's more than willing to help out.

#drarry fic rec #apliddell #my mutuals are very talented #it's so cool to like. spend time around people whose art you enjoy #it's like. inspiring!!!

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shanastoryteller · 10 months

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Thanks so much for telling me that it deleted 😅

Um happy birthday! I was actually gonna ask for time travel drarry this time 😂

Thanks again and have a great day!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

They’re cautiously moving their way though the chamber, Draco letting him lead with only a minimum of arguing. Harry likes to think that the fact he’s a parselmouth, an auror, and has been here before is compelling, but honestly he thinks Draco agreed just so Harry would be eaten first if something goes wrong.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Harry can’t help but say, “we shouldn’t be doing this, I guess, but you started it. We shouldn't be changing anything, especially this far in the past. Who knows what it could mess up?”

Draco scoffs. “Again, how do you think we’re going to make things worse? What sort of future are you worried about preserving anyway?”

“Things are good, now,” he says, and wants to check Draco’s expression but can’t bring himself to stop looking around corners for the first hint of the basilisk.

“For who?” Draco presses. “I don’t know what war you lived through, but the one I did was complete shit.”

“And you could make it even worse by meddling!” he insists. Talking is also probably a bad idea, but with his luck it’ll be his first tell that the basilisk is near by – that he starts hissing rather than speaking. “Things could have gone even more to shit, and now they might, because of you!”

Draco snorts. “Typical. You know, some people actual value the things they lose, and aren’t exactly eager to lose them again.”

Harry stops moving and Draco nearly walks into him before he realizes it. He whirls around, now shoving his wand in Draco’s face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Just because you’re a cliché doesn’t mean you have to throw a fit about it. Clichés are clichés for a reason, after all,” he says in a tone that Harry thinks is actually supposed to be soothing.

He’s not in the mood to be soothed. “I value what I lose.”

“No, you don’t. Your tragedy is tragic, Harry, but it’s not special. All you do is lose so you can’t linger on it. Parents, homes, friends – what’s it mean to lose them to you? You’ve lost them all, multiple times, and you’re just fine.” Draco makes a face, then shrugs. “For a given definition. Because you never think any of it is yours to keep, so the loss can’t hurt as much. Which is fine for you, and all your fucked up problems, but I’m not like you. What I lost is important to me and I’m not fine about it and I’m going to do whatever I can to get it back.”

It's the cruelest thing Draco’s ever said to him and the worst part is how he says it, irritated but casual, like it’s something unremarkable about him that’s obvious to everyone.

Maybe it is.

No wonder he could never get passed the third date with anyone.

Draco crouches down, yanking him against the wall. Harry’s surprised enough to let him. “Do you hear that?”

He almost says no automatically but he takes a second to try and hear something over their breathing.

Well, looks like they found the basilisk.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #cherryblossomshadow #harry potter

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goldandglittersblog · 3 months

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Draco: *does something dumb*

Hermione: You know, there's a 'u' in 'stupid' for a reason.

Draco: Oh yeah? There's an 'i' in 'stupid' as well.

Hermione:

Draco:*contemplates what he just said*

Crookshanks: *meows tauntingly*

Draco: F**K OFF YOU SQUISHED-FACE F**KER!!

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writingsbychlo · 8 months

Text

the slytherin boys + barbie

draco: pouts when you say you’ll go with pansy but also refuses to dress up as ken, or dress up in the slightest. would take you both to watch it and surprises you last minute on the day by wearing a pink t-shirt he borrowed from enzo. rolls his eyes when you get excited but is actually very happy with himself for it.

mattheo: would want to do a double feature with oppenheimer too. makes it a whole date scenario. buys all the snacks but makes you carry them in your purse. wants to dress up for oppenheimer (???) so he wears a suit and a fedora and tells you to wear a pink minidress for barbie. highkey the best dressed couple to go see the double feature, everyone comments on it and he never lets it go. (“see!! I told you it would be cool to dress up for both.”)

theo: would say he’s only dressing up if he can wear the shirtless ken in the fur coat outfit. buys the tickets and the snacks and helps you pick your outfit even if he’s still pouting because you won’t let him wear the mink coat. has the “I’m just Ken” song stuck in his head for a week after and sings it non-stop, drives everyone insane. talks in your ear all the way through but in a funny/cute way, with jokes. (I firmly believe he would do this with every movie though). orders a “I am Kenough” replica hoodie and wears it to smoke in the astronomy tower.

enzo: had a google alert set for ticket release day bought them with the intensity one would buy taylor swift concert tickets. does not care in the slightest for oppenheimer. would wear a full pink outfit with you and possibly even let you bleach his hair to be ken as long as you promised to dye it back after. (“look, cousin, now we match!”, draco refuses to speak to him for a whole week.)

tom: agrees to go and will wear one of your pink scrunchies on his wrist as a gesture of love, and it works. does, however, love your barbie outfit and makes sure to whisper some very dirty things to be sure you know. is stoically thrilled when you surprise him with oppenheimer tickets for the same day. holds your hand through barbie and kisses your knuckles occasionally. scoffs when you laugh at all the ‘typical men’ scenes (Zack Snyder cut of Justice League 💀). is deeply concerned when you play “What Was I Made For” on the way home after and immediately switches it to the “Barbie World” credit song

#listen IDK what’s goin on here I had some thoughts so I wrote them down?? idk #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #tom riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle/reader #mattheo riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle/reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott/reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy/reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire/reader

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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Text

enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons

author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.

- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.

He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.

The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.

He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.

And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.

but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.

“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”

He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”

You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.

“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.

Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.

“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”

by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.

With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.

The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”

His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.

Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.

And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.

he scared them off by just being himself.

You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,

but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.

But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.

you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”

“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”

“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”

As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.

And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.

but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.

“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.

“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“

he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”

you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“

“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”

Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.

“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“

He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.

“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.

“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”

that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.

“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”

Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.

Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.

Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.

you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.

the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.

“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”

“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”

you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”

“deal.”

Mattheo Riddle.

you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.

perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.

and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.

of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.

And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.

“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”

He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.

“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”

You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.

With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.

“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”

“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”

Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.

With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.

But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.

Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;

“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”

your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”

Theodore Nott.

“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”

you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.

“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”

theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.

cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.

the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.

clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”

as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”

he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”

Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.

Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.

As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.

“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”

your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.

“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”

Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.

“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”

you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”

“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;

a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.

and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.

it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.

At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,

but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?

Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.

so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.

the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.

but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.

and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.

Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.

Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.

A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.

“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”

heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”

immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.

“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”

his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“

Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”

#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.

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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter fifteen

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): allusions to death and cannonical violence, angst

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Draco is confined to the Hospital Wing for three whole weeks.

He was in and out of restless sleep for the first week, comatose in the second and fighting off the fog of pain reducing potions in the third.

Harry has detention with Snape, polishing endlessly dirty cauldrons, until the end of the year, which you and all of Slytherin house think should've been a far harsher punishment, but at least he's not gotten away with attempted murder.

You had visited Draco diligently almost every day during your free periods, alongside Pansy and Blaise, keeping him up to date on typical Hogwarts gossip and bringing him notes for classes that he needed (and avoiding the topic of quidditch because the thought of the matches he'd missed had put him in the most foul mood). He'd asked about the other trio that made up your group when they weren't with you, but there wasn't much you or Pansy could say.

It's like you've gone back to square one with him all over again.

Ever since the duel in the second floor bathroom, Mattheo has been avoiding you like the plague and you have no idea why.

But it's not just Mattheo; Lorenzo and even Theodore have not uttered so much as a hello to you; if Draco wasn't hospitalised you were certain he'd be giving you the same treatment. And it seems that Pansy is being offered the same sentiment, too, which can't mean anything good.

The two of you had been thrust together in solitary, abandoned by your friends, who would whisper conspiratorially with eachother when you were not there, and would completely change the subject when one of them spotted you or Pansy heading their way.

It was downright infuriating.

He could see it written all over your face, but he couldn't risk either of you knowing what they were doing. Blaise was an unfortunate exception; Mattheo tried to get him to leave it be, but his best friend was relentless, and would not stop pestering all four boys until he took it upon himself to follow them when they were none the wiser all the way back in September when the task had officially commenced.

The Vanishing Cabinet was almost repaired.

They were one step closer to completing Draco's seemingly impossible task. But, of course, Mattheo's father didn't think they were doing it fast enough, and he did not care that Draco's hospitalisation took priority over a stupid wardrobe. He would force his son's hand if he had to.

So the boys had spent the better part of a week locked away in the Room of Requirement. They hardly went to lessons, and when they did, it was only to keep up appearances to cause less suspicion among the staff (especially those that they suspected were high up in the Order's chain of command) and their peers.

He knows you're angry about his avoidance, but Mattheo cannot bring himself to involve you; to put you in anymore danger. Your display of power was enough to engage his overprotective side, and he knows that if he was able to figure you out before he even considered a civil friendship with you all those months ago, that his father would have you figured out in half the time. He already suspected that the Order knew about you, if Dumbledore knew, which already put you on Voldemort's radar, even if his father didn't know the siphon's true identity. He only knew that there was one in existence.

Mattheo only hopes that his father is too focused on his vendetta against the Headmaster to figure it out.

It's becoming increasingly more difficult to lie to you. Even the Unbreakable Vow he's forced to adhere to doesn't seem powerful enough anymore. You know about Horcruxes, he knows that for certain. Which puts you in danger, no matter if you know where the objects are or not. When he saw the memory of you holding the ring without knowing just what was in your hands...

...Mattheo had to keep you far away from that burden for as long as possible and he hated that Dumbledore had knowingly given you such a cursed object without a thought or qualm of the consequences.

Now, alongside Theo and Enzo, Mattheo is staring resolutely at the deep brown wooden door of the Vanishing Cabinet on a random Friday afternoon. The spell that they'd discovered had worked thus far; there were only so many more incantations needed for it to catalyse the spellbinding properties of the complex magic that was weaved into the wood centuries ago.

The boys were putting off the inevitable for as long as possible. But as Blaise arrived, with a freshly healed Draco in tow, they knew that it was time to do the inevitable.

"Harmonia Nectere Passus." Draco repeated the spell for the nth time and allowed Enzo to let the bird, whose wings were flapping wildly in his tentative hold, into the deep abyss.

They waited.

And waited.

And waited some more until Mattheo slowly reached for the handle, brows furrowed in apprehension when he felt the palpable pull of the wardrobe's magic, and opening it with a soft creak. The bird flew out and rose towards the ceiling of the Room of Requirement, disappearing from their sight and into the rafters in the ceiling.

The five of them stood silently for some time after that, each coming to their own grim realisations.

They had done it.

Finally after months of trial and error; after months of physical and mental torture, they had fixed the unfixable.

But at what cost?

Their left arms burned in earnest as Voldemort rallied his forces to prepare for infiltration. Blaise looked at his friends in solemn understanding. Horror swept through them like a wave in the sea.

What had they just done?

~∞~

He watched you from the shadows of the viaduct for some time before he decided to approach you.

You were sat in the courtyard, accompanied by Pansy, Ginny, Hermione, Luna and Neville (an odd bunch – your little group had garnered some whispers from passers by, and sneers too but none of you cared to pay them any mind).

He admired your beauty. The way your features brightened inexplicably as you laughed with your friends; how your eyes softened as a smile stretched across your flushed face; how the sun framed you like a halo would an angel. He hated that he would be the one to burst that bubble of indescribable happiness.

As he made his way towards you from the shadows, approaching you for the first time in a week, his chest tightened as your features hardened when you noticed him. He knew he deserved it. But it didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

"What do you want, Riddle?" the way Pansy spits his surname pains him just as much as your furrowed expression. He knows without a doubt, that the boys' actions had hurt her just as inherently as they had hurt you, if not more. But she would come to understand, eventually, that it was done for her protection.

"I need to talk to you." He says slowly. "To all of you."

This has their attention. And you watch as he brushes a hand through unruly curls, the sunlight highlighting deep, dark eyebags, as if he hadn't slept all week.

"About what?" Ginny demands, sitting up straighter from where she was lounging lazily next to Luna, whose head is tilted inquisitively. You still haven't shown him much of a reaction, and your mental walls were built up high and solid. Hermione looked skeptical, and Neville only looked confused and scared.

"You need to get in contact with the Order." he begins and he watches as you share a look of concern with Hermione.

"Why?" Hermione asks him and he casts his eyes to her chocolate ones, a grimace overtaking his face.

"Because there's going to be an attack on Hogwarts. Tonight." His statement sets off a chain of events.

Neville is a blubbering mess of nerves and fear as he rushes to stand. Luna has a contemplative look on her face; seemingly calm in the aftermath of Mattheo's words. Hermione looks terrified, but her face cools with a mask of indifference as if she herself is preparing for battle. Ginny looks up at him, a determined glint in her eyes as she rises to her feet, pulling you all up with her. Pansy looks horrified, her hands twisting together frantically as your own hands fight to calm them. And you...

Gods he wants someone to paint the look on your face onto a canvas; to cement it into existence forever.

Your brows are furrowed, creating a divet in the space between them and your lips are pulled into a frown that casts a melancholic sadness across your warm features. You're staring up at him with big, questioning eyes and all he wants to do is grab you and take you far, far away from everything; drag you to another continent so that he knows for certain that you'll be safe.

"How do you know there's going to be an attack?" you ask and he wants to desperately put off the inevitable, but he sees it in your eyes, and in your eddying thoughts (as well as Pansy's) – you already knew what he was about to admit, even if it killed him in the process.

"Draco had a task-" the Dark Mark burns angrily against the skin of his forearm and Mattheo grimaces and his heart skips a beat when you move towards him, shaking off Neville's wary hand. "-It was meant to have been completed three weeks ago-"

But he ended up having a brutal near death experience.

Is what he was trying to say, but the Mark was causing him agony, tearing at the very seams of his brain as he tried to make sense of the words appearing in his mind. But he couldn't string them together.

The feeling is gone as soon as your hands are gracing his skin, which is hot to the touch.

You watched as his face scrunched in pain and your heart physically hurts for him. You wanted his misery to end. So you used your ability and siphoned away some of the magic that was binding itself aggressively to Mattheo's very being, letting the veins of dark magic coarse through your's and settle restlessly into the conduit around your neck, casting your indigo core in dark shadows of obsidian.

It burned like hell, but watching his face return to it's relaxed state, was worth it.

"Why did you do that?" he asks you incredulously, staring down at you with wide onyx eyes.

"You were in pain." you say breathlessly. "I don't like seeing you in pain."

He brings his forehead to rest against your's. It's the first point of contact you've both had all week and you all but melt into him.

"I'm trying to explain myself to you," he mumbles. "But this damned thing has a chokehold on my very core."

He's glaring hatefully toward his left arm and you hear the way your friends take a collective inhale of breath. You grasp it gently, running sooting lines up and down his forearm with a soft caress of your fingers that has his tensed shoulders relaxing imperceptibly.

"You don't have to explain yourself, if it means you may end up killing yourself in the process, Théo." you reply, ignoring the eyes that are on you, feeling like you're the only people stood in the viaduct courtyard. "No one wants that. I don't want that."

Ginny clears her throat, knocking you from the haze of staring into his captivating eyes. She's looking at Mattheo with a little more determination than before. He shifts on his feet, hand reaching for your's, which you take without question, letting him hold you in some way, for comfort.

"Does the Order still have people guarding the outskirts of the castle grounds and the town's streets?" He asks Hermione who nods slowly, confused on how he knows this information. "There are spies everywhere, Granger don't act so surprised."

His words resonate with all of you, but you don't have time to ponder it as Mattheo continues.

"Find them and tell them, now. There's not enough time to waste." he says, voice strong and commanding. "And where's Professor Dumbledore? He needs to stay away from the Astronomy Tower."

"Why?" Ginny asks but it's not Mattheo that answers her question.

"They're going to kill him, aren't they?" Pansy's voice is no louder than a whisper, and the way Mattheo flinches is an answer in itself.

Hermione is frozen. Eyes wide in horror.

"He's not here." She says, voice low. "He took Harry to search for a- for a horcrux. They won't return until well past curfew."

Your mouth gapes in realisation.

"The only point in the castle that Dumbledore can apparate to and from is the-"

"Astronomy Tower." Mattheo says with you and you turn to eachother with identical looks of dread on your faces.

"Go to the Order. Tell them to get reinforcements."

It's the last thing he says before he drags Pansy away, probably towards the Slytherin common room where the others are, leaving you with your friends in a state of pure distress.

You run to the nearest Order member you know of immediately and Professor McGonnagall is just as shocked as you all are.

Reinforcements are called upon immediately and by eight o'clock, just before curfew, the corridors are swarming with Order members.

~∞~

The Dark Mark streaked vibrantly green across the night sky like an ominous painting. It had appeared only moments ago. When Bellatrix Lestrange and a group of more than a dozen Death Eaters had infiltrated the school's usually impenetrable defences. Calamitous and imposing with the snake moving silkily into the mouth of the giant skull, Dumbledore's Army and Order members were fighting tooth and nail to eliminate the hoards of Death Eaters that had managed to get past the wards.

Meanwhile up in the Astronomy tower, protected against Order members with their own wards, Mattheo stood shrouded in shadows, alongside Draco, Theo and Enzo as they watched the swirls of green mist form a cloud of animosity in the vast, open room. They stood in typical Death Eater masks, to conceal their faces, all but Draco who stood with his head held high, right hand clenching his wand harshly, to prevent it from trembling like a leaf.

Professor Dumbledore and Harry Potter landed with uncoordinated grace only moments after Bellatrix had cast the Mark. The former looked haggard and ill – as if he could topple over with a gust of wind at any second.

This will make Draco's task easier. Theo said wordlessly as they observed the way the Headmaster clutched at his chest with his decaying hand.

Mattheo agreed without so much as moving a muscle. Body tense as he tried to imagine you safe in your dorm room, away from the chaos that was no doubt about to ensue. But he knew you better than that.

He knew you were in the fray, fighting for the right cause. Fighting for your life, and your friend's lives. He could hear the distant sound of spells clashing against eachother; walls crumbling; people screaming out for help. He only hopes one of those screams is not your own.

He locks away the thoughts. He cannot be distracted right now. Not when the deed was about to be done.

"Go and wake Severus. Tell him what has happening and bring him to me. Do noth- nothing else. Speak to nobody and do not remove your cloak. I shall wait here." Dumbledore says faintly to Potter, who slowly slips the infamous Invisibility Cloak over his head, but before he can conceal himself fully, Draco's arm begins to burn, as does Mattheo's.

It's time.

The floor creaks as Draco moves to step around the corner of the room where he sees a ripple of movement by the door, but no body. Harry had already disappeared under the cloak, seemingly unmoving, as if he was paralysed.

He errupted around the corner in seconds, shouting "Expelliarmus!" and had disarmed his Headmaster with surprising ease, though he does well not to show the emotions cross his face. The Elderwand, that was previously gripped snuggly in Dumbledore's dueling hand, flies in an arc-like shape onto the floor, rolling under a group of orreries in the far corner of the Astronomy Tower.

Professor Dumbledore was, for the first time in his over one hundred years of life, deathly weak and utterly defenceless. Despite this, he did not look panicked or distressed. He only greeted Draco with a cold smile of recognition.

"Hello Draco. Pleasant evening, isn't it?"

Draco stepped into the foreboding green light, reflecting off of the countless metal contraptions surrounding them. His eyes darted across the clearing, from where Dumbledore stood, to where Potter's now invisible body lay.

Mattheo, Theo, Enzo and Draco knew he was there. But the others did not, probably expecting him to be fighting alongside the Order. Most were fighting below, others were waiting for a signal of their own. But Bellatrix wanted to watch her nephew complete his task. She had appeared silently beside Mattheo and had spotted a veil of magic that wasn't supposed to be there.

She looks suspicious. Make it look convincing. Draco heard Mattheo's warning and so the acting began.

"Who else is here?" he demanded, face void of any telling emotion. Dumbledore only smiled knowingly.

"I might ask you the same. Or are you acting alone?"

Draco's stoney eyes fell on Dumbledore's weakened figure.

"There are Death Eaters roaming your school grounds. We let them in right under your nose and you didn't have the slightest idea." Draco sneered, lifting his wand higher in anticipation.

"Ingenious." Dumbledore replied, and Mattheo could sense a shift in his demeanor. "I wonder...where are they now? You seem quite....unsupported."

"They're a little preoccupied with your precious Order. Fighting below. They won't be long, but I have a job to do." Draco responds icily, wand hand twitching. Mattheo knew then that Draco wouldn't make the killing blow.

"Well then, might I suggest you get on and do it," Dumbledore says, his voice growing softer as he smiled. "You are not a killer Draco Malfoy. Am I to believe that your friend would try to help if she knew what you were about to do."

"I've made peace with that possibility, sir." Draco says, though regret shines in his light grey eyes. It shines in all their eyes at the thought of what you will say in the wake of their ultimate betrayal.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of. The things I've done!" Draco continues, his voice surging with growing confidence.

"I do." Dumbledore says slowly. "I know you and your friends almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley in your desperate attempts to kill me all year. I can't help but notice that they have been feeble at best. Forgive me, my boy, but I wonder whether your heart has really been in it–"

"It has been in it!" Draco retorts vehemently, as if Voldemort was listening from around a corner. "We've been working on it all year and-"

There's a loud and muffled yell somewhere in the corridors below them and Mattheo stiffens at the thought of it being you.

He'd only seen you once in passing, fighting against Dolohov with one of the Weasley offspring. You didn't recognise him while he was in his Death Eater robes, You were fighting strong and fast against the older man, who barely stood a chance against all your unleashed power.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight." Dumbledore says, voice filling the tension that permeates the air.

"You managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school which I'll admit, I thought was impossible. How did you do it?" He sounds intrigued rather than nervous or frightened. Mattheo tenses more. Ignoring Bellatrix's presence as she too observes, clearly fighting the urge to intervene and kill Albus Dumbledore herself.

Draco did not respond. His focus was on the battle happening beneath them.

"Perhaps you ought to continue with the job alone, although I am curious to know where your friends are." Dumbledore's words prompt Voldemort's right hand woman to forcefully shove Mattheo from the shadows.

He stumbles unexpectedly, but rights himself as his gaze settles on his Headmaster. He removes the mask and runs a hand through his unruly curls.

"Ah Mr Riddle." he greets with cool eyes of steel as if he wasn't a lamb sent to the wolves. "I have to say, I'm surprised it's not you stood in Mr Malfoy's position."

"My father wanted to punish his father. Thought it was fitting that Draco did his dirty work for him." Mattheo says, voice low and deep as he stares into irises of silver. Dumbledore cocks his head as Mattheo opens up his mind to the Headmaster as he speaks out loud to fill the otherwise empty silence.

I warned the Order before the Death Eaters got here. They were prepared.

Perhaps Miss Meadow was right about you after all. Dumbledore's response holds an ounce of regret that does not translate to his face. Do not let your father know of her abilities. We both know what he will do with her if he does.

With my life, Sir. He will never know that she is the one with the power to summon from the elements.

She doesn't know the full extent of her abilities does she?

We've barely scratched the surface, Sir.

With the most imperceptible of nods from his Headmaster, Mattheo comes to stand beside his best friend, face stoic, yet expressionless, resembling his father's old face as if they were identical twins.

"What if your back-up has been thwarted by my guard? The Order are efficient at what they can do."

Malfoy merely stared at him. He did not know of the passing conversation that had just occurred between the other two men.

"I see," said Dumbledore kindly, when Draco neither moved nor spoke. "You are afraid to act until you have an audience."

"I'm not afraid!" Draco snarled, though he still made no move to hurt

Dumbledore, who stood defencelessly before the two of them. "It's you who should be scared!"

Mattheo's bones were practically vibrating with anticipation. Draco needed to stop stalling.

"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe. So tell me, while we wait for the rest of your friends. How did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

Draco looked as though he was fighting down the urge to shout, or to vomit. He gulped and took several deep breaths, glaring at Dumbledore, his wand pointing directly at the latter's heart.

It's Mattheo who responds this time, giving Draco the time he needed to compartmentalise his emotions. "We had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that hasn't been used in years. The wardrobe that Graham Montague got lost in last year."

It takes effort for all of them to hold back their snickers as they vividly remember when Montague had emerged almost two months later.

Dumbledore makes a sound of acknowledgment that was more of a painful groan than a sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"That was clever. There is a pair, I take it?"

"The other's in Borgin and Burkes," Mattheo continues, voice raspy and slow as he explains, reminding Dumbledore even more of who the boy's father is.

"They make a kind of passage between them. Montague told us that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the wardrobe was travelling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him. In the end he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never actually passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone else thought it was a really good story, but we – Theo, Draco, Enzo and I figured out that there could be a way into Hogwarts through the Cabinets if we fixed the broken one. My father thought it was....ingenious."

"Very good," murmured Dumbledore. "So the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you. A clever plan, a very clever plan. And, as you say, right under my nose..."

"Yeah," Draco says, quite recovered from his momentary stupor and bizarrely, seemed to draw courage and comfort from Dumbledore's praise. "Yeah, it was!"

"But there were times, weren't there?" Dumbledore went on, "When you were not sure you would succeed in mending the Cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands–"

Draco flinched.

"–Poisoning mead that there was only the slightest chance I might drink–"

Mattheo grimaced only slightly. He imagined that Theo and Enzo had similar flinching responses, too.

"Yeah, well, you still didn't realise who was behind that stuff, did you?" Draco sneered, as Dumbledore slid a little down the ramparts, the strength in his legs apparently fading.

"As a matter of fact, I did," He said. "I was quite certain it was you."

"Why didn't you stop me, then?" Draco demanded and Mattheo couldn't help but wonder, himself.

"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders–"

Everyone in that room froze at his words. A pin drop could be heard for miles at the noxious silence that followed that statement.

"No that's not right. He hasn't been following your orders, he promised my mother–"

"Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but–"

"He's a double agent, you stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!" Draco shouts over the dying man.

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape–"

"Well, you're losing your grip, then!" Draco sneers again, ignoring Mattheo's careful hand that rests on his friends shoulder in warning. "He's been offering me plenty of help, wanting all the glory for himself, wanting a bit of the action–"

Mattheo drowns out Draco's depressing monologue in favour of observing the way Dumbledore grew weaker with every passing second. They didn't have long. They needed to get this done.

"How long was Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse, Mr Riddle?" Dumbledore's question brings him back to the present.

"All year." He responds lowly, shamefully. Admitting it felt like being pelted by thousands of tiny shards of glass, but he knew that was the guilt.

"So poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk amongst her own bathroom stalls and pass the cursed necklace to any student who entered unaccompanied?" Dumbledore sounds intrigued, disgusted and weirdly amused as he lists off his suspicions. "And of course she poisoned the mead before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, perhaps believing it to be my Christmas present, despite it being so late into the new year. Very insidious. Of course Mr Filch would not think to check something addressed from her. Tell me how you were communicating with her. I believed we had monitored all forms of communication in and out of the school."

"Enchanted coins." Draco replied, his wand hand was trembling badly now. "I had one and she had the other-"

"Like the secret method Dumbledore's Army used to communicate last year? Did Miss Meadow give you that idea?"

"Leave her name out of your mouth." Mattheo hissed, teeth gritted together in a rage. He could practically smell Bellatrix's curiousity. He wondered how she'd managed to stay so still and quiet for all this time. He had almost forgotten that she was there, had he not felt the daunting barbed walls of her mental shield.

"I got the idea from Granger, actually. I overhear her talking about all sorts in the library." Draco says, sharing a fleeing glance with Mattheo, who once again drowned out the sound of their voices, in favour of trying to reach you.

Meadow? Nothing.

Answer me! No response. Your mind was as hard as a stonewalled fortress against his desperation.

There was a bang and a collection shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where they were stood.

Wordlessly he tells Draco, Enzo and Theo to be ready to sink into the shadows and leave at any given moment. Their silent aggreement has his tense shoulders slacking only for mere moments.

"There is little time, one way or another," said Dumbledore. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options!" Draco said loudly. "I'm standing here with a wand – I'm about to kill you–"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretence about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first Disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" he yelled and he was suddenly as white as Dumbledore. "I have no choice! I have to kill you. Or he's going to kill me and my family."

"I appreciate the difficulty of your precarious situation." Dumbledore responded "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected you."

They all winced at the sound of the name. Except Mattheo. His onyx eyes only hardened.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you, but I suppose with the help of his son you would have been fine," Dumbledore continued, casting a singular look at Mattheo. "But now at last we can speak plainly to each other...no harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived. I can help you, Draco."

"Where was that offer when Meadow came to you?" he snapped, wand hand raised and shaking. Mattheo's eyes shut briefly. Your name was bound to be brought up in the next meeting at this point.

Dumbledore said nothing in response to that and Mattheo practically growled his discontent. But before anyone could utter another word, a dozen sets of footsteps thundered up the spiral staircase and Bellatrix Lestrange had finally, finally stepped out from the shadows, a menacing smirk stretching across her gaunt face as Severus Snape stood ominously beside her, wand poised and ready to strike.

~∞~

hiiii!! it's been a while (like two weeks??) since i updated serendipity

this is part one of the astronomy battle scene from the book – the next part (chapter 16) should be out within the next week since i have uni work to complete 😒 but i hope you enjoyed this one xxx

also unrelated to this post, i saw niall horan last night and it felt like a fever dream?? take me back right now.

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

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