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the-lesbianest-batman · 2 years

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The Great War - Taylor Swift

I'm going to be analysing the song from a merthur perspective, trying to prove to you how merthur coded it really is!!!!

In my opinion the song is mostly from Arthur's perspective.

My knuckles were bruised like violets

so this is arthur, always a fighter, trained to kill since birth et cetera

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep talked

arthur is very repressed emotionally and has feelings for merlin he's not accepting, so he let's that out through anger (also the sleep talk thing fits really nice because we've had scenes of both merlin and arthur sleeping/waking up saying each others names)

Spineless in my tomb of silence

I feel like the tomb of silence can be read has his fear of dying/ never being able to express his true feelings and arthur living his life like that- rigid and spineless because of his father's influence.

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

so yes the banners are merlins openness, regarding both magic and being gay and arthur is repressed and ignores merlin being queer in more way than one. the battle of ofc the actual literal battles and also his internal battle over his feelings

And maybe it was ego swinging

this could be arthur thinking his ego/arrogance are responsible for the conflicts and the war

Maybe it was her

personally I see this as morgana, since she is the only valid love interest merlins ever had (in arthur's mind at least - tbt "where are my flowers") and also morgana being responsible for the war

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

this one's obvious- in my version of the great war of camelot vs morgana, arthur didn't die but got injured and is now regaining consciousness, so his memories start to come back. this could be when the song is playing because he's thinking about his feelings and the situation and all that.

now for the chorus

All that blood shed, crimson clover

so blood shed is like arthur thinking about like all the casualties of the war and also him having killed so many innocent magic users. plus him and his gang have killed many ppl so yes it fits.

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

so yes this could be s2e10 sweet dreams (aka the ep with the best merthur potential imo) or more likely arthurs infatuation for merlin feeling like a dream (yk that high when you fall in love)

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

them both supporting each other during the war <3 (maybe merlins magic was revealed and they're fighting side by side?

Always remember

Uh-huh, tears on the letter

omg I have a great idea for this: post magic reveal merlin gives him a letter being all "I'm leaving" and arthur crying -> tears on the letter.

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War

them hoping for their eventual happy ending (which they DESERVE)

You drew up some good faith treaties

court sorcerer merlin helping arthur with political stuff/ lowkey being an advisor th3 way he kinda is in the show already???

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

again, arthur shuts himself off and doesn't accept or express his feelings. drawing curtains closed is very "I'm not out to myself/I'm the closet/ !!!beard!!!" to me and drinking my poison all alone is also heavily leaning on repressed feelings/ sexuality crisis.

You said I have to trust more freely

this is arthur trying to get over his prejudices/fears about magic. and perhaps even getting over his internalised homophobia and trust issues and merlin is for sure helping with that.

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

arthurs internalised homophobia and stuff kicking in- he's scared after all. it's like the golden-harry styles thing. merlin: "I know that you're scared because I'm so open."

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from a crypt

uthers god awful parenting and influences being the past that's talking. say it with me IN-TER-NA-LISED HO-MO-PHO-BI-A

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

arthur sees that magic is not a crime and that he shouldn't punish merlin for "the crime" of using magic. and on a subtextual leven this could again also apply for gayness since magic=gay (watch the aretheygay video on merthur, I'm not gonna explain that concept rn)

So I justified it

this right here is arthurs character development. he's no longer hiding behind his father's politics but taking matters into his own hands-legalisong magic and making a case for all magic users- justifying how magic should be legal in front of the conservative councilmen

All that blood shed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, the burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

pretty much the same as the first chorus BUT "the bombs were close" and "the burning embers" "and the last two lines. so the first difference is a reference to the war yes. the burning embers are imo merlins eyes when he uses magic. seeing merlins eyes go golden woudl be a pivotal moment for arthur-it being the undeniable proof that YES, MERLIN HAS MAGIC. and the last two lines are again about hoping for their happy ever after. arthur did dream about him and merlin living on a farm. if that's not gay then what is tbh

It turned into something bigger

friends to lovers say what

Somewhere in the haze got a sense I'd been betrayed

again this is both applicable to magic or gay. arthur felt betrayed that merlin didn't trust him and maybe even that merlin WAS that way (he's repressed not homophobic or magicphobic(???)

Your finger on my hair pin triggers

Hold you down on that icy ground

oooh what if merlin was like injured and it would be kinda opposite of s5e13 with arthur being the one panicking over merlins dying body (except that merlins immortal ofc)

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

so yes merlin is on his not-really death bed, loyal, honest and honourable until the very end proving to arthur that all his prejudices were for nothing because this, THIS is all that matters. HE is all that matters

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you

the "merlin almost dies and arthur realises everything right then and there" vision is SO CLEAR omg

We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

it's giving "vision of the future and their happy ending". arthur dreams of their future together and wants more happy memories with merlin. plus the poppy flower thing is adding onto my merthur farmers au for this song. escapism due to war trauma so true

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

yeah so to me this is by now post war. the war is won. they're trying to pick up the pieces.

And we will never go back

confirming that arthur has had his acceptance arc, he's now accepting merlin, himself, magic, being gay and also turning his back to the violence, striving to bring a new peaceful era to the lands of albion.

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the worst was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, we burn for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

yes so end of war. the worst was over. also "we burn for better" is such a raw line? omfg taylor!!! so yes they got together in a "I might die tonight so I have to tell you something" situation, vowed they would always love each other and BOTH survived the great war. haply ending confirmed.

I would always be yours

Cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours

repetition for emphasis.

so yeah. that was my analysis of the great war. I hope this wa enjoyable and I hope you all now add this to your merthur playlists.

#merthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #emrys #colin morgan #bradley james #taylor swift #midnights #the great war #merlin the great war #merthur the great war

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lesbicosmos · 1 year

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bbc merlin liveblog - s1 ep5: lancelot

damn merlin can't even do something cute and gay like forage for mushrooms without being attacked by some mythical creature smh

why did they cut lancelots hair in the later seasons, it looked so good in his first ep

people rly need to stop dying or almost dying to save merlin, no wonder the guys so traumatised

MERLIN AND LANCE ARE BESTIES ALREADY I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

*some random thing is brought up about the running of camelot* gaius: MY TIME TO SHINE HAS COME

lancelots piece of the soundtrack is actually so good

merlin using magic to forge a seal of nobility is peak "i only just met this guy but i would already do anything for him" and honestly i don't blame him

convinced anyone who enters camelot just automatically feels they would do anything for gwen and merlin (same)

lance: are you two...? merlin: *laughs in gay* no.

merlin and gwen just being like 👍😁👍 you're doing amazing sweetie!!

why is arthur and lancelots swordfight in the town so... gay

the way arthur runs is so funny im sorry

i wanna know just how much of this show is dramatic swordfights

MORGANA ABDBDVFVSHRHE

merlin looks so proud of lance im gonna CRY

MORGANA HAS THE RED DRESS ON AGAIN I MIGHT DIE

"if you had to: arthur or lancelot?" first of all merlin why do you sound like you want to choose 👀

second of all "but i don't have to and i never will" oh gwen just you wait a few seasons 😭😭

oh no the illegal plan was found out to be illegal

arthur protecting lancelot <3

"how can you trust a man who's lied to you?" THAT LINE WAS MEAN FUCK YOU WRITERS

the griffin looks so funky

the "oh shit" look on arthur's face when the spear breaks 😭

arthurs fighting faces are so funny like why does he 😗 so much

people need to start believing gaius' hypotheses more often smh

"you are the only thing i care about in all this world. i would give my life for you without a thought." GAIUS BEING MERLINS FATHER FIGURE MAKES ME CRY

why does merlin never have any armour at all when he joins arthur on missions, like he should've been injured so many times...omg is it neckerchief? is it a magic protective neckerchief

*dramatic slow mo shots of a kinda shit 2008 cgi griffin*

surely merlin knew lancelot would figure out his magic after that, merlin was yelling incantations and the lance was GLOWING 😭

scenes where arthur goes against uther are just so good

lance's theme again as he's leaving 😭😭

why does morgana have to look so ethereal in every scene she's in even if the scene isn't about her, does she know how much it kills the sapphics

#i forgot how much i love lancelot #hes just so nice #bbc merlin #merlin #lancelot #arthur pendragon #morgana pendragon #gwen merlin #merlin liveblog

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felixantares · 1 year

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11 22 19 ayo

omg some of those are so fun!! 💚

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

I have such a hard time killing my darlings 😭 I never want to. But I do it!! even though it’s hard! I did it not even like a week ago. There was a whole severitus plot line in build me no shrines that I was super attached to and I cut it, because it wasn’t working. I was crying the whole time and now I have a separate severitus fic that is in no way related. But yes I have a darling graveyard, usually they don’t stay dead long and get turned into new fic ideas

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

I mean, I’ve been doing creative writing forever it feels like. I wrote little short stories as a kid and drew really terrible comics. My mum got me this novel writing program that had a code for an online forum when I was around 12, and so I started writing a novel (I finished it too! I was 13 and it’s actually insane, the plot makes no sense, but like!! I did it, 45k of nonsense. my mum was so proud) but I joined the forum and it was a bunch of other kids all 12-17 who wanted to write books too. I kinda stopped for a while in high school and uni because I’d been told I couldn’t do anything with writing, that it was too hard to make a career out of it and I was better off doing something practical (haha jokes on them I went into art). Then in like… 2016? I had a brief little period where I wrote a couple Merlin fics, they didn’t do super well and I got a couple nasty comments that kinda put me off writing fanfic at all. Then in uhhhh August last year I got really into Harry Potter again after I broke off a toxic friendship with someone who said I couldn’t be queer and also like Harry Potter, so as a giant fuck you to them I joined the first HP discord server I found — which I kinda found my people right away and now I’m quite happily inhabiting my little corner of the internet and writing my stupid little stories.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Okay I don’t think I’m crazy organised but then I’ve been told I am, so idk make your own calls. I’ve got 2 physical notebooks, one for my two long WIPs and I just kinda put a coloured sticky note in the pages whenever I switch the fic I’m writing for, and a second book for random ideas and notes and stuff that usually gets transferred to the appropriate document later. The idea notebook is very small and lives in my pocket in case I’m out and need to write an idea down. But I don’t really take a lot of physical notes. My docs and folders though are perfectly organised. Docs are put in folders with their fic (or in the case of one shots, a folder for that) or like my general writing folder if it’s a resource, but I have a naming system that I use for all my projects, based on what kind of file it is so they get tagged with like [OUTLINE] or [WIP] or whatever is relevant. There’s a colour coding system within the documents (so like as I’m writing, notes to myself are always blue, notes on a character are green, sections that need editing are highlighted in red, sections that I’m currently working on are orange… and a few other colour keys that I won’t bore you with) and then I have a spreadsheet I use to track wc goals and overall progress and stuff. I’ve thought about using that “make your own wiki” site that was shared with me a little while ago (or I’ve got a subscription to WorldAnvil for my D&D notes, so maybe that) to start organising my lore notes a bit better, but that’s a fairly large project and I might just stick to what’s working for me.

#felix talks #ask game #harry potter #on writing

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sarah-sandwich · 1 year

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I posted 20,583 times in 2022

318 posts created (2%)

20,265 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pablothefrog

@butch-himbo

@merlin-made-me-bi

@lucianinsanity

@food-forever-hufflepuff

I tagged 4,466 of my posts in 2022

#parkner - 142 posts

#peter parker - 128 posts

#harley keener - 124 posts

#dndads - 115 posts

#humans are good - 104 posts

#parley - 84 posts

#amazing art - 78 posts

#sswrites - 71 posts

#keenker - 64 posts

#nwh - 59 posts

Longest Tag: 105 characters

#but she said it in a jokey way so i welcomed her sarcastically 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

Can we take a minute to geek out over fucking Amanda??? Like ep one she was SO quiet while the others were farting around and gleefully ripping up the flooring of Anthony's world to watch him dig (affectionate) but then it was her turn and she was RUTHLESS and EFFICIENT and METHODICAL and that contrast was soooo funny

Then in ep 2 the main cast has the measure of her and they're wary but Beth is going in for the kill in her clumsy oafish way (still affectionate) but Amanda meets every move and spins it back on them ALL WHILE DRAWING BETH INTO HER WEB

Then there's ep 3 where she finally clues you in that she is also unhinged but with such COMPETENCY that you don't see it for what it is until you're already in love with her and you know that she will eat you alive and you will let her

74 notes - Posted July 7, 2022

''YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO LOOK AT MY BABY PICTURES GIVE THAT PHOTO ALBUM BACK TO ME'' ''but it's from a time when you were actually likable 🥺''

from the prompt list please??? anyone you want, I just think it’s funny and you could do this justice

So uh, as you know this got out of hand lol

Here it is! The much anticipated fake dating prompt fill that blossomed into a 7 chapter fic :)

Two boys, both alike in dignity--by which I mean they have none. Harley is lying to his family about why he hasn't come home in years. Peter is lying to everyone about pretty much everything. Together they can make everything worse by lying together (heh) in Rose Hill while Harley pretends to his family that Peter is his long-term boyfriend and Peter pretends that he hasn't had a crush on Harley since the day he met him--or no. He DOES pretend he has a crush-- Wait, no he doesn't pretend because he HAS a crush so he pretends to pretend that he--

It's complicated.

Read on AO3

81 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

I have to know what “the olive garden revelation” was omg

Omg it makes me wheeze cry laugh every time. Griffin finds out (as an adult! in front of an audience! on a stage!) that Justin and Travis pranked him as a kid by telling him that you can take the raw fettuccine out of the display containers at olive garden and munch on them.

Here is the audio clip (it's from a live show but its decent quality) I just listened to it again and I'm sweating from laughing so hard

88 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

A Peach Like You - sequel to Peaches ain't Pretty

Peter Parker never considered himself special. Maybe, yeah, having radioactive blood and spider-like abilities makes him different and his vigilante career is out of the norm and fine, yeah, he's on the autism spectrum. Call that "special" if you want. But under all that, he's a regular college student juggling three jobs, an internship, a sad mockery of a social life, and saving the city day and night. The usual stuff.

So when he somehow catches the eye of a blue-eyed mech engineering major with an accent that could turn even Aunt May's brick-hard mashed potatoes to mush, he's only thrown for a minute before he writes it off as a fluke. What could a guy like that see in a guy like him anyway?

Chapter One Will Be Posted January 5th CST

Check below the Read More for a sneak peak

Chapter 1: I’m an only child and I’m desperate for attention

Peter’s web-line, tangled desperately between numb fingers, holds as he slams into glass. Air punches from his lungs, but the pane stays intact. He fumbles for his footing, slipping in the smears of scarlet left from his meeting with the window, then begins the slow miserable climb to the ninth floor. His abdomen burns. His head pounds.

He’s not going to pass out. He’s not going to pass out. He’s…

He’s so fired. The pizzas he was supposed to deliver are long gone by now, whether he can remember where he stashed them or not. His boss is going to be furious with him for flaking on his deliveries again. He may have attempted the tried and true ‘It’s not my fault, Mr. Leonetti, I was mugged,’ routine if it wasn’t for all of the cell phones that recorded Spider-Man getting stabbed not two doors down from the pizza shop. He can’t risk anyone making the connection between Spider-Man and Peter Parker.

What was he supposed to do? Not drop everything and strip down to his suit to stop the bodega from being robbed? Not web the clerk out of the way of the stray bullet? Not take the lucky stab between his ribs during his distraction?

Actually, he could have done without that last one. Ned has enough on his plate without having his mess of a childhood best friend slithering through his window every other day with life-threatening injuries.

He breathes a sigh of relief as his fingers curl over Ned’s window sill. His Friend of Spider-Man sense must be tingling because it’s wide open. A strange choice for February, but you won’t hear him whining about his unprecedented change in luck.

He pushes the screen until it pops free of the frame then rolls into the apartment. He lands with a thud on gray carpet and groans as the impact aggravates his stab wound. It’s not until the haze of pain clears enough to see the unfamiliar light fixture above him that he considers how unlike Ned it is to have the window open on a day that’s threatening snow.

Ned hates winter. He hates leaving the window open even a crack and often compromises by stuffing a towel in the crack to keep the draft out because, as much as he hates winter, he loves his best friend more.

As he blinks at the rest of the room, dazed from blood loss, he slowly puts together that this is not Ned’s apartment. It smells wrong for one thing. Like burnt bread and blood (the latter of which, yes, he realizes is his fault), but also there’s a distinct lack of life in this place that’s so contradictory to Ned’s merch and memorabilia-stuffed apartment that for a moment he thinks maybe this one is vacant. No shoes by the door. No pillows on the couch. No DVDs next to the TV. No takeout containers. No books. Nothing.

Other than a mason jar that’s half-filled with odd little trinkets on an otherwise barren bookshelf, the place is lifeless.

Well, nearly lifeless.

In the same moment he decides he ought to haul his broken body out the window and try for the correct window, a tall blond someone wearing a knit sweater and jeans that have been worn soft over time steps into the room waving a towel at the smoke lingering near the ceiling.

The man freezes as they lock eyes.

Oh, mother fudger.

183 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Anthony: and he cuts your head off

Everyone: *SCREAMING*

Beth May: Is she okaaayy???

224 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#SCREAMING #that is not even my longest tag by fucking FAR #but it is one of my most embarrassing moments that still haunts me so THANKS FOR BRING IT UP ffs #this is a hate crime #20k reblogged post asjskaksjs ok #I'm mentally thriving obviously #I am happy to see my dndads posts are in my top 5 tho 😌#I am a contributing member of 2 communities

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lemonflavouredspatula · 2 years

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List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity ✨💛🌻

AHHH okay omg happy things let's go

(HELLO disclaimer i'm a fucking idiot and remembered the 'ten' part of this over the 'five' part and didn't realise until i'd already done it all so here have 10 things that make me happy instead lmao because yes apparently i really am that stupid i need help)

1 - DOGS because they're just so wonderful and happy and fluffy and gorgeous and they just want to be your friend and i love them

2 - eurovision but i bet none of you could have guessed that what with how very little i talk about it especially this time of year (you're welcome xox) but seriously it's just so wild and wacky and utterly unexplainable and there is literally zero judgement on who you are everyone just embraces everyone and we just have a party to the most insane contest literally ever invented

3 - little teeny tiny plants but ESPECIALLY cacti because they're just so spikey and adorable

4 - heartstopper because talk about storytelling being done RIGHT and there's ACTUAL ace rep and yes i am crying

5 - bbc merlin but again none of you could have guessed that given how i literally never talk about it (again, you're welcome xox) but seriously, i fell in love as a smol child when it first aired and that love has never for one second diminished, this show owns and destroyed my whole heart

6 - autumn because crunchy leaves and pumpkins and cold nights and halloween and perfect hot chocolate and jumper weather and i can wrap up in a blanket and listen to the rain and everything is perfect

7 - long drives on my own where i can turn the music up and wind the windows down and just have a right old party

8 - night walks whilst listening to my fav songs and looking up at the stars

9 - people commenting on my fics, doesn't matter how old or recent they are, if you comment you literally make my whole year and that is not an exaggeration (bonus if it's just incomprehensible screaming)

10 - receiving this (yes this is cheesy, no i am not sorry because it's true bite me)

#no kidding this did actually make me so smiley #thank you <3 #also shout out to my brain for reading the ask and just running with ten instead of five #i really am losing the plot #hey ho ENJOY #lmao someone send help #asks #answered #spatula rambles

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icecreamkink · 2 years

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omg alright lets go by parts

merlin hiding under arthurs bed to meet him at night

then going sooooo. u need to die so that ur father could maybe cry

arthur just. straight up not believing uther would care about him DYING? ugh god 🫠death to uther death to uTHER

arthur being very 🧐🧐🧐🧐 abt gaius having the knowledge for a potion like that..... sans magic maybe ... (?

"its not important" "the antidote needs to be administered in 30 minutes or you'll die" "you JUST SAID it wasn't important?!?!?!?!" "haha oops"

"here drink the poison-errrr the potion"

i think this is the most unwilling arthur has been to die thus far which. hm. hmmm. hmmmmmm 🧠🪱🐛

uther crying and thinking its his fault. good. bitch.

loved the optics of teary uther and 10 dif guards fighting the troll and merlin trying to d i s c r e e t l y revive arthur in the bg like oh dont mind me

(again. HOW does no one ever SEE him doing weird shady shit xkskjznksjznxn ok alright)

#an all around 10/10 sequence #merlin blogging

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 1

Summary: Draco meets and accidentally falls in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP). Part 1 of a upcoming series.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, crying, panic attacks

Words: 6.4K words (I made this so longgg)

A/N: my first Draco writing !!! i am sorry ahead of time if there are any misspellings, typing with long acrylics is hard omg. ALSO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also i do not own this gif.

It was almost satirical how Draco managed to fall in love with someone at what might be, is, the lowest point in his life. It was his sixth year at Hogwarts, the dark mark burned into his left forearm, the restless mending of the vanishing cabinet, the impossible task of killing his Headmaster, the Dark Lord looming over him and his family with promises of torture and death if he didn’t follow through with the orders he was given.

Draco was an empty shell of what he used to be. The playful and mean remarks that would leave his mouth to anyone that stood in his path were gone. The devious twinkle in his eye and the smug smirk that used to grace his face almost 24/7 was reduced to a permanent scowl and red-rimmed eyes. He looked as if he had aged a rough 10 years since the last year he was at school. Everyone noticed it.

Everyone noticed the skipped meals, the lack of sleep, the empty look in his eyes, the falling behind in class. But no one dared say a thing to him. It almost seems as though people were afraid of him now more than ever. The sneer on his face and the reckless and impulsive attitude he held now was like a repellent for anyone that tried to come near. He was completely alone, whether he liked it or not and he decided to keep it that way.

That all changed a few months into the year, however, when you were rushing to DADA, your long house colored scarf getting tangled underneath your feet causing you to trip and lurch forward, dropping all your books, your wand, and crashing into, you guessed it, Draco Malfoy himself. There was a loud cracking sound as you both tumbled onto the ground, a yelp slipping past Draco’s lips as he held his hand in pain.

"Oh, Merlin,” you gasped, Draco shooting you the dirtiest glare. “Draco, I’m so sorry.”

Before he could open his mouth to tell you off and incessantly insult you into oblivion, you reached forward and took his wounded hand in yours, the softness of your hands and tender touch throwing him off guard. He watched you as you examined the damage on one of his fingers.

“It’s just a sprain,” you finalized after inspecting it for a couple seconds. Draco recoiled his hand from yours as if he had touched a hot surface. He moved to get up and you huffed out a “wait, hold on,” as you scrambled around the ground for your wand. When you felt the wood underneath your fingertips, you clutched it and jumped to your feet, gently grabbing onto the sleeve of Draco’s robe who was already trying to retreat.

“Get away,” he snarled, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Let me help,” you pleaded softly, “it’ll be quick, I promise.”

Draco looked down at you with annoyance. He was about to leave again until he felt that same tender touch from just a few moments ago. The feeling stunning him again as he looked down at his hand that was now lying palm up in yours.

“Episkey,” you drawled the wand over his injured finger, the both of you watching the swollen and purple bruise beginning to form suddenly fade away.

Draco gave you one last scowl before he snatched his hand out of yours and turned around to leave the corridor, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as he quickly walked away, his cloak floating behind him like the professor, who’s class you now realized you were very late for.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That night, Draco lied awake staring at his ceiling he had charmed to resemble a starry night sky. His mind wandered off to think about spells he could try to help fix the vanishing cabinet and different ways he could kill Dumbledore without actually having to face him. He thought of his parents, mostly his mom, and how much he wishes he could save her and himself from this life. He thought of this school and how much he missed being an unknowing child who just did his schoolwork, played quidditch and bully the Golden Trio. He missed the two-dimensional life he used to live. Even if he used to be a complete ignorant and snobby arse, he was a happy one at that. Only now he knows that life isn’t what mummy or daddy say it is, in fact, it is so much worse.

He found his mind wandering to his uneventful day of dragging himself through his classes and failed attempts on the cabinet in the room of requirement. He then all of a sudden remembered the klutzy y/h/c girl that tripped into him and sprained his finger. He remembered how soft her touch was and how gentle she was in fixing said finger. That feeling was hard to forget. He hasn’t felt such tenderness since he doesn’t know how long. He recalled his mother’s hug before he boarded the train to Hogwarts, but that was ages ago.

In his ever growing turmoil, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in Draco’s life since he’s returned to school. The coldness he was feeling on the inside was just as apparent as it was in his surroundings. He catches himself wishing he could feel that touch again, something about you radiated warmth, and just as quick as that thought appeared, he pushed it away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The next day, as Draco was leaving the room of requirement and into the empty corridor, he felt the familiar ache in his chest that began to flow through his body. He had made little to no progress today on the cabinet. He felt a panic attack on the horizon, his breathing becoming staggered and tears pricking his eyes. He hated it. He hated feeling so weak.

He began rushing towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, his tears blurring his vision and just like the day before, he crashed right into someone. Instinctively, he held the other person in place by their biceps so neither of them would fall. But that still didn’t stop how upon impact, the other person’s head had collided with his bottom lip. He squeezed his eyes in pain as he felt the skin break and blood quickly escaping it. When he pulled back, he focused on the figure in front of him and realized it was you. The same klutzy girl he bumped into yesterday.

“Oh no, not again,” you frown, placing your hand on the part of your head that met Draco’s lip.

“You ought to watch where you’re going, you twit,” he snarls, stepping away from you in anger.

“It was an accident,” you responded just as harshly. You take a deep breath and throw the attitude aside. He was bleeding for Merlin’s sake and you felt bad that it was because of you. “I’m sorry, please let me heal you again,” you offer, taking a step towards him, closing up the space he had made.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he backs up, eyeing you down.

“Draco, please, just let me heal your lip and i’ll be out of your way,” you ask again, your soft and guilt ridden e/c eyes peering up at him through your lashes. Draco’s heart flutters, his anger subsiding for a second and he nods.

You step towards him once more and unexpectedly place a warm hand on his face while the other brings your wand up to his lip where it hovers. It was a non-verbal spell you used this time and he felt the pulsating pain in his lip subside to nothing.

Even though he was healed, you both stayed in that position, your hand still on his cheek and his eyes gazing into yours. He didn’t realize it at that moment, but the pain in chest had also subsided, just a little. The tears had gone. His breathing was drastically slower.

“What’s your name?” the question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. You gave him a small smile, your hand falling from his face and he frowns when he feels the cold on his skin from the loss of contact.

“It’s Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” you answer. “We have potions together this year, actually.”

Draco thought back to that class, now that Slughorn was teaching it he hardly paid attention, especially since he felt he was skilled in it anyways so he would let himself slip into his thoughts and let the whole period pass by in a haze. He feels as though he might have heard your name here and there, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Hm, funny, I’ve never noticed you,” he says, not intending it to sound rude but it did. He watches your face fall and he feels a slight guilt poke at him.

“Well, like I said, I’ll be out of your way now,” you mumble to him, brushing past him softly as you continued your path out of the corridor and out of his sight.

He didn’t know why, but he felt a little sad to see you go. He shook his head, shaking the thought from his mind and instead of the bathroom, he decided to go to his room, no longer feeling like he did before your little encounter.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As days went on, Draco ended up paying more attention in Slughorn’s class. Not to the chubby old professor, but to you, who he shared subtle glances with throughout classes and half-hearted smiles.

You wanted nothing more than to continue talking to him. To be in his presence. He was like a magnet to you, while everyone else thought the opposite of him. Even Pansy, who usually was up his ass, distanced herself from the ghost of the boy she once obsessed over. You couldn’t lie, the small crush you harbored on Draco had only grown more and more each day. It started about three years ago, during your third year when you had seen him in the hospital wing after his run-in with Buckbeak.

You remember the sheer shock you felt when you had seen him for the first time that year. The slicked back hair was gone, he had grown several inches taller, maybe even a foot taller now that you thought about it. His voice had deepened into that haughty tone you somehow couldn’t get enough of. But just like you, many other girls noticed these changes too and began pursuing him. Something you’d never had the guts to do.

Until now.

The feelings you had been suppressing for the past 3 years had come back in overflow the second you bumped into him the other day. Even worse this time since you’ve actually had a conversation with him now and the fact that he won’t stop looking at you.

Slughorn pulled you out of your thoughts when he announced to everyone to partner up to brew the potion he had been lecturing us on all week. Draught of Peace.

“This is your chance,” your friend besides you sings to you as you looked longingly in Draco’s direction who hasn’t moved from his spot.

“No, he usually works by himself, I don’t want to bother him anymore than I have,” you sigh, slumping down in your seat.

“Y/N, you’ve been in love with him since third year,” she huffs, “besides, maybe he only works alone because no one can stand being near him.”

“Shhh, someone might hear you,” you hiss, slumping even lower into your seat. “I am not in love with him, it’s just a stupid crush,” you whisper angrily to her while she only rolls her eyes.

“Okay, well, have fun working alone,” she smirks, getting up from her seat and scurrying across the room to join another classmate. You gape at her in distress, she returns the same gesture, mocking you. She then points over to Draco and smiles, giving you an encouraging thumbs up.

You rest your head in your hand for a second, feeling the hot blush that had made its way onto your face and focused your gaze onto the table in front of you. You mentally hexed your friend, who thought it’d be a good idea if she were ditch you so you would be forced to look for another partner. Jokes on her, you’re not getting up from this seat.

‘I can’t go up to him,” you thought, ‘he probably thinks I’m some annoying creep who won’t leave him alone. I’ll just work by myself.”

Draco looks over at you, noticing the empty space beside you and the frown on your face as you pushed your Potions book to the side and sat up to get your cauldron ready. You were alone, and so was he. He fought himself on whether or not he should join you. It was a bold move, especially for him. He was used to working alone, but the longer he looked at you, the more he found himself missing the sound of your honey sweet voice and soft eyes. Before he had any more time to argue with himself about it, he gathered up all his things and walked over to the empty spot next to you.

“Do you want help?” Draco asked awkwardly, immediately regretting his decision to move. Your eyes shot up from the potion book, not expecting to see the blond next to you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Um, yes, actually, that’d be nice,” you mutter out to him, moving some stuff around on the table so that he would have space for his. You could hardly contain the deep red blush that was already on your face from intensifying at his presence. You swallowed thickly as the realization set in that your longtime crush was right beside you and even offering a helping hand. Which in Draco’s case was extremely rare, almost unheard of. Matter of fact, this is something the Slytherin Prince has never done.

He sets his bag down and his supplies and takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves so that he could get started on crushing the porcupine quills into the moonstone powder. The amount of times he has made this potion by now for himself was sad, but good in this case since he would be able to impress you with his skill.

He worked diligently and quietly and you watched as his long slender fingers worked everything with attention and precision. You were looking up at him every now and then which you now realized was a terrible idea considering you were in the middle of cutting ginger root and you weren’t exactly coordinated to begin with. You felt the sharp blade slide across your finger and a small gasp left your mouth when the pain instantly began once the first drop of blood fell.

Draco looked at you in confusion, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the blood dripping from your hand and your face contorted in pain. You ignored the looks Draco was giving you, afraid that he might be looking at you with contempt for being sloppy.

“Y/L/N, perhaps you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco suggests, now seeing that the cut was very deep as you inspected it. In fact, it was so deep he swore he could’ve seen bone.

“No, it’s fine, I can heal it,” you ignored the sharp pain and placed your hand on the table and pointed your wand at the cut with your uninjured hand. You focused on the cut and closed your eyes, letting your wand do its magic with your unspoken spell. When you opened your eyes, the cut was gone, just a small scar in its place and drying blood around it. “You see,” you smile, turning towards Draco and waving your finger, “brand new.”

“You don’t want dittany for the scarring?” Draco asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, I don’t mind them and this one is small anyways. They’re like memories to me. Some come from good experiences, some bad. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little clumsy,” you explain, a small smile on your lips.

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” he sighs, “so you’ve managed to become your own healer because of that?”

“Exactly that,” you hummed. “That’s actually what I’m studying to be. I plan on being at St. Mungo’s once we graduate. I’ve been studying for it my whole life.”

Draco was silent for a moment. He watched as you carefully threw ingredients into the cauldron and stirred them with caution. He noticed that despite your clumsiness, you handled everything you touched with a care and gentleness. It was a calming sight to him for some reason and he faintly smiled.

“I think you’d be a great healer,” he complimented quietly. You looked at him with one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen and his heart swells at the thought of it being because of him. He feels a smile mirroring yours that tries to break through, but he fights it.

“You know, you’re a lot nicer than you let on,” you say quietly, waiting for his reaction from the corner of his eye. Draco wants to give you a snarky remark, just to uphold his cold reputation he’s given himself since his first day back at Hogwarts, but he doesn’t.

Instead of saying anything, he just shrugged and gave you a small smile, turning his attention back to the task at hand. You do the same, choosing to enjoy the comfortable silence that had settled.

When Slughorn came by to check when you finished, he eyed you and Draco and smiled.

"Ahh, Mr. Malfoy, I’m glad you’ve finally decided to partner up with someone,” he gleamed. “Miss Y/L/N here is an excellent potions student such as yourself.”

“Yes, she is,” Draco responded, keeping his eyes trained on the professor. He didn’t want to look at you, feeling embarrassed that he has now complimented you twice in the last 20 minutes. You smiled to yourself, something you’ve been doing a lot of since the slytherin boy sat next to you.

“Well, I suppose you’ll be pleased to know the two of you have brewed an outstanding potion,” Slughorn grins, “both of you will receive perfect marks on this. You can be excused from today’s class now.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you begin gathering your things and turn towards Draco. “I’ll see you next class? Or maybe somewhere around the castle when I accidentally bump into you.”

Draco chuckles and shakes his head, “perhaps. I’ll see you soon, Y/L/N.”

With that, he strides out of the class, you staring at the back of his platinum blond head with a stupid smile on your face.

“You’re welcome,” your friend suddenly appeared next to you, playfully slapping your arm. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Draco look so... calm.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Weeks had gone by, and several Potions classes. The seat beside you now belonged to Draco and the two of you had in a sense, become friends. Or acquaintances. You couldn’t quite say.

He was still brooding and mostly kept to himself, but he would converse with you here and there about things, almost always school. The two of you continuously getting outstanding marks on everything you produced much to Slughorn’s delight.

Sometimes he would come to class looking disheveled or angry and those were the days where no matter how much you tried to talk to him to at least maybe get his mind off things, he would ignore you. Wouldn’t even look at you. You couldn’t deny how it had hurt your feelings, but you would brush off the hurt and remind yourself that it wasn’t personal. He was obviously going through something, you didn’t know what, but you had to respect that sometimes he just didn’t want to talk. That was hard. Especially because you just wanted to hear his voice or see him give you that rare smile when you would say something he found amusing or you would accidentally drop something off the table with your elbows or knocked over with your hands.

You were rounding a corridor when you saw the flash of blond zoom past you. He didn’t see you, but you saw the pointed look in his eyes and the tears that were pooling in the stormy gray eyes that you adored. You mentally fought yourself on whether or not you should follow him, he looked so upset and all you wanted to do was give him a peace of mind. So you followed him, all through two corridors until he disappeared into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Your heart broke at the sobs that filled the bathroom. They were full of pain and despair. The sound of his rapid breathing mixed in with his cries was more than enough to let you know that he was having a panic attack. You pushed open the door slightly to see him hunched over a sink, his robe discarded on the ground along with his vest and tie leaving him in only a white long sleeved dress shirt.

You wanted to run in and help, but stayed back, realizing that this was something that was extremely personal. You knew he would be livid if you or anyone saw him like this, so broken and emotional. You were about to leave, all of a sudden feeling very ashamed for even following him in here. You watched as he looked up into the mirror, an anger flashing in his eyes as he stared at the reflection looking back at him. Not yours, but his. All he could see was a monster staring back at him. A failure. A weak man. He was disgusted and angry with what he saw and before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled his fist back and you watched it collide with the middle of the mirror where he had been. The glass shattered upon impact, the shards now flying in all different directions and embedding into his knuckles. He fell to the ground on his knees, in pain and clutching his fist as his cries only got louder.

That was when you threw open the door, rushing in to help him, not caring that you were going to have to put up a fight in order to even get near him. Draco’s eyes shot up to meet yours, and just like you thought, he was beyond pissed to see you.

Draco has never felt such humiliation in his life. The beautiful and kind y/h girl he had acquainted himself with, was now looking at him with pity. He grabbed his wand from his pocket, pointing it at you with such quickness that you faltered in your steps.

“Get. Out!” He yelled, his wand shaking violently in his uninjured hand. He would never hex you, but he figured you would fall for his bluff and leave. But you didn’t. You only sat yourself down a few feet away from him and felt your own tears begin to fall. “Y/L/N, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t leave, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you challenged. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he sneered, his wand still pointed at you.

“You’re bleeding, a lot, Draco,” you point to his bloodied hand that curled to his chest. “You know I can save you a trip to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey’s interrogation.”

After a few moments of silence and a wand still pointed at you, you slowly scoot towards him. Your hand encloses around the one holding his wand and you lower it for him while he watches you. He was still crying and breathing heavily. His panic attack somehow getting worse now and no longer having the energy to fight you. You finally reach him, now knee to knee with him and you place a hand on his shoulder.

“Draco, just breath with me,” you say calmly. “In,” you took a long exaggerated inhale, and after a few seconds, “out,” and let out an equally exaggerated exhale. You did that with him for a while, his pained gray eyes focused on yours the whole time, never breaking eye contact. Once he was calmed down enough and was just left with the post crying hiccoughs, you took his injured hand in yours. There was shards and particles of glass stuck in his reddened and bloody skin.

You reached into your robe pocket and pulled out a set of tweezers you kept with you. You often found yourself getting splinters or tiny rocks stuck in your skin when your hands hit the pavement when you’d fall you try and catch yourself.

“This might hurt,” you warn, starting to remove one of the biggest pieces. He sharply inhales as you try your best to do take it out carefully.

It was quiet the rest of the process, just sniffles and gasps from Draco when you had removed a piece that especially hurt. When you were done, you waved your wand over the gashes and watched as they faded into faint pink scars. You got up, pulling him with you and took him to the sink where you rinsed off the blood from both your hands and his.

He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what. He just stared at you, dumbfounded and confused. You turned your body to face his and he did the same, eyeing you carefully and still very cautious to any move you made.

“I can leave now, if you’d like me to,” you offer quietly. He stayed silent, wondering if he should just send you off. But he didn’t want to. You had already seen him at his worst, and he was terribly alone, so he just shook his head ‘no.’ You looked up at him and decided to risk it all. “Can I give you a hug?”

Draco was stunned at the question, his heart pounding against his chest. “I suppose,” he managed to let out in a strained voice.

You slowly stepped closer to him and slid your arms up his biceps until your hands met behind his neck. You stood on your tippy toes and pulled him into you, his chin now resting on your shoulder as your hand smoothed the back of his head. You felt him stiff under your touch and as he got comfortable in your embrace, his arms raised from his sides and snaked around your waist, pushing you flush against him. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, and he held you tightly, not wanting to let go.

This was the first time in a long time that he had felt any type of relief. It had been such a constant uphill battle for him, day after day. He took a deep inhale accidentally, but the smell of your perfume and shampoo filling his nose and his mind made him feel at ease. The warmth of your body from underneath his fingertips brought him peace and succor.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair so quietly that if you weren’t so focused on him, you would’ve missed it.

“Anytime.”

That was the day Draco Malfoy became your friend.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Potions class was no longer the only place you would see Draco. Now that the two of you were comfortable with one another and he trusted you more than anyone else, he found himself hanging out with you every day during his free time when he would be done messing with the cabinet.

It would be taking walks around the castle. Sneaking out at night and meeting behind statues to talk. Sitting together at a bench in the courtyard. Skipping stones along the Black Lake. It’s been months of this. Months of friendship he so desperately needed. You had helped him through several more panic attacks and meltdowns, each time coming closer together. He never told you about what caused them. The worst ones were when he found he had almost killed Katie Bell and Ron Weasley, and as much as you begged him to tell you, he kept his mouth shut.

He had spent so much time with you that it was affecting him. But for the better. He found himself eating again at the Slytherin table and his friends were more than excited to have him back. He still wasn’t too buddy-buddy with everyone as he once was, but he joined conversations and shared a couple jokes. He was even sleeping a little more. He was still beyond stressed, but it wasn’t as gut-wrenching. He enjoyed Potions again and even started paying a little more attention in his other classes. His new found energy even helped him greatly progress in mending the vanishing cabinet, finally making a breakthrough in fixing it.

He would lie awake at night sometimes and thank Merlin you crashed into his life, literally. You were like an angel to him, healing his heart with every word and smile and touch you sent his way. It was easy with you. He tried his best to keep his emotions at bay, reminding himself that when he would have to follow through with his task, he would lose you and that thought pained him to no end. But he was selfish, and he adored you with every fiber of his being so he couldn’t leave you alone. And especially not when he needed you most.

Today, you lied in the grass, shoulder to shoulder and staring up at the sky and watching the clouds. You were a little ways from the castle, away from all your other classmates and teachers and it was nice. Finally being able to enjoy time with the Slytherin Prince without people gawking at the two of you.

“My mother used to do this with me when I was a small,” Draco trailed off, his eyes following a particular funny shaped cloud. “She would take me out to the garden behind the Manor, usually when father was doing some work at the ministry. But we would sit against this tall oak tree and I’d be on her lap and she’d have her arms wrapped around me and she would point out the funniest shaped clouds and try to pinpoint what they resemble. Sometimes she’d even joke around and say the weirdest shaped cloud looked like father.”

You giggled at that last part, your heart swelling at the story. He rarely talked about his family, but when he did, it would always be of his mother and a happy memory he had with her, never his father.

“Draco, can I ask you something?” you turn onto your side, your elbow holding you up as you gazed down at him.

“What do you wanna know, darling?” you blushed at the nickname but brushed it aside, knowing he only meant it in a friendly way.

“Forgive me if it’s rude, you don’t have to answer,” you begin, “but do you miss your father? I know it’s none of my business and I’m so sorry the Daily Prophet put your family business on blast like that. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

Draco frowned and followed you in turning onto his side and propping himself up with his elbow to face you. You remembered the image of Draco and his mother on the newspaper, bright lights flashing across their faces as all the press tried to get picture of them after the sentencing of Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban. You remembered seeing Draco look so sad, yet strong beside his mother as he looked from her and then into the camera with disdain.

“Sometimes, I do,” he answers, eyebrows furrowed as he thought of his father. “My whole life, he’s expected nothing short of perfection from me. There were no room for mistakes, and if I made any, I would be punished for them. I remember coming to Hogwarts was like an escape, a place where I could finally sort of relax and be a child. I don’t miss his scolding or his coldness. But I miss having a father, I miss going home on that first day of summer and seeing both my parents even if he was going to reprimand me for something later on in the day. He’s been with me my whole life, and now he’s gone, stuck in a cell in Azkaban. He’s never going to be the same. Home is never going to be the same.”

You felt tears prick your eyes as you listened to the boy beside you, a distant look in his eyes as he turned back over on his back to look at the sky in the middle of his explanation. You sat up and he did the same, looking at you with a frown when he noticed you were about to cry. You took your hand in his and held it tightly.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you mumble. “You don’t deserve any of the bad things you’ve been through.”

“I do,” he shrugs. “I’ve been a real git since I’ve been at Hogwarts, you know.”

“You’re different now,” you say. “Sure, you still haven’t lost a little bit of the Malfoy snobbishness and you’re still a bit of a git, but you’re kinder and more gentle. You’re a lot more empathetic and perceptive. I mean, I’ve never spoken to you prior to this year, but your reputation follows and the Draco in front of me doesn’t seem anything like the Draco you were.”

“How you’ve managed to insult me while complimenting me is something I’ve never seen anyone be able to do successfully is astonishing,” he laughs, a smile growing on his face as you laughed with him.

“I’m serious, Dray,” you giggle, “I think you’re a good person.”

“I’m not good,” he thinks to himself. The compliment leaving your lips made him feel foul. He didn’t deserve to have such a kind soul complimenting him to be something he’d never amount to. He frowned and harshly stood up, and you quickly followed. Suddenly afraid that you might have overstepped your boundaries.

“Where are you going?” You ask, fear trembling in your voice. He begins to hurriedly walk off and you chase after him, stopping in front of him so you could place your hands on his chest to stop him.

“Y/N, let me go,” he pleads. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“I think I’ve been around you long enough to know who you are.”

“Not long enough.”

You stare up at him, but he refuses to look at you. His body feels rigid under your touch and it pains you to see him beginning to shut down again.

“I know something has been bothering you this year, and I know it’s not just because of what happened with your father,” you start. “I don’t know what is hurting you so deeply enough to make you hate yourself, but I’m here to tell you that whatever that thing is, it doesn’t define you.”

Draco swallows thickly, the tears already falling down his cheeks. “It does, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you cry with him. “Even if you don’t see your goodness, I do.”

Both you and Draco are crying, the tree you were now standing under was swaying violently in the wind, as if it was picking up on your guys’ emotions. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m not good,” he whispers to you, “and once you see that, you’re going to hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Draco Malfoy,” you promise, a complete sincerity in your voice that it makes his heart jump.

Draco lifts his head up and sniffles, he watched you do the same, peering up at him through your wet lashes. He brought his thumb up to smooth the crease in between your eyebrows, letting it fall down to your cheeks where he wiped away the stray tears that had stilled. His hand then landed on your mouth that was pulled down in a grimace that matched his own. His thumb grazed over your lips, the softness of them nearly driving him mad. He wanted nothing more than to feel them against his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to kiss you. He didn’t want to drag you into the darkness of his life more than he already has.

“Kiss me,” you said to him, so softly but it rang loud in his ears. You had seen the way he looked at you and how he seemed so focused on your lips. You knew what he was thinking because it was exactly what you were thinking. You wanted this just as badly as he did. “Kiss me.”

Every argument he had in his head vanished and suddenly he closed the small space between the two of you and gently placed his lips onto yours. It was a fluid movement, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

Your hands found their way in his hair, holding him closer to you and he did the same by gripping onto your hips. His lips were soft against yours, filled with fervor and desire. He was gentle with you, but you could still feel the deepness of his kiss and how it intensified with each second. He had put all his emotions into it, his care, his appreciation, his want, his sadness, his grief, his love.

When he pulled away and the two of you stood there staring at each other with love stricken eyes, he realized he had made a grave mistake.

He realized he was in love with you. He realized that he would never be able to let you go, and you would never let him go. And he knew that with the direction his life was going in, one way or another, you would get hurt and he would lose you, maybe even to death itself.

So in that moment he knew. As much as he loved you and wanted more than anything to be with you, he couldn’t put you in that position where you would be staring evil and death in the face. He wouldn’t tarnish your beautiful soul like that.

“I have to go,” he breathed out. “Please, leave me alone. For good.”

And with that he turned away, leaving you standing under the tree with tears falling down your face, a sob escaping your throat and the sound of your knees hitting the grass below you. He held back his own cries and walked faster away from you, knowing you had finally done damage to yourself that you couldn’t heal, and it was all his fault.

PART 2

4K notes · View notes

sirius · 3 years

Text

I Hate You (I Love You)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader, mentioned Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Smut!!!!! Swearing !!!!! Angst !!!!!! NO MINORS ALLOWED !!!!!!!!

Word Count: 🤷🏽‍♀️who tf is counting????

Prompt: 4.“Why are you lying to me” 5. “Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” 7.” Do you even still love me?” 11. “Can you shut up for once in your life?”

Request: (1)Hey, can you do a Sirius one with 4,5,7 if you are still doing the requests??? I am seriously in need of some heavy angst. (2) Omg yay!! Angst 4 and 11 for sirius please ❤❤❤ ily

A/N: I havent done smut for ages lol

***

Loving Sirius Black is a very beautiful, very complicated thing.

On the one hand, he’s charming and spontaneous and romantic, loyal to a fault, honest and kind hearted and generous with his affection, always having to touch you and be near you as though you make him feel whole, make him feel safe.

On the other, he’s jealous and suspicious and hot tempered and his anger is like being caught in the midst of a thunder storm; forks of lightning strike in his eyes and his voice is a deep, sky-splitting roar, making the room shake and the air shudder.

You, however, fiercely stand your ground

When the two of you collide, it’s like an earthquake without a warning. The entire Gryffindor tower goes silent, listening to the broken symphony of screams and crashing furniture, magic exploding from the pair of you as your anger fills up the room, charging the air with static electricity

Today is no different.

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole,” You snap, bitterly, as you climb to your feet and stomp away from the picnic rug Sirius had laid out, “Trust you to ruin our six month anniversary.”

“Oh so it’s my fault?” Sirius yells, sardonically, “Let’s all blame Sirius like we always do!”

You lift your chin, “I’m not the one who drags up OLD relationships, Sirius, you did that all on your own!”

Sirius’ eyes narrow, his fingers twitching around the bottle of fire whiskey in his grasp.

“If you didn’t give me a reason to then I wouldn’t.”

“Oh my god, can you shut up for once in your life?!” You yell, blood roaring in your ears, “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s over between me and Remus!! It’s been over for TWO FUCKING YEARS!!”

“Do you think I’m a fool?!!” Sirius barks, suddenly jumping to his feet. His fingers tighten, knuckles white and bulging, as though he were trying to strangle the throat of the bottle, “Because I’m many things but I’m NOT a fool!! I see the way he looks at you (Y/N)-“

“Well that’s HIS problem, Sirius, because when we ended things, it was amicably. Jesus, why aren’t you listening to me?”

Sirius shoots a hand through his hair and curses thickly under his breath. His chest is heaving. You watch him as he begins to pace, your heart hammering, your blood boiling.

“FUCK!” He suddenly blurts and you start. He kicks a chair and it flies across the room, smashing against the opposite wall. He doesn’t met your eyes as he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not!”

“You are!”

“Sirius!” Your eyes are stinging with hot, angry tears, an invisible bubble growing in the back of your dry throat, “I’m not lying to you!”

“WELL WHAT IS IT?” He booms, and the furniture scatters as through leaping out of the way of his rage, “WHAT AREN’T YOU TELLING ME?!”

You swallow thickly. Tears you hadn’t realised you’d shed are drying on your cheeks.

“NOTH-!”

“-DON’T!” Sirius roars, hurling the bottle across the room. It smashes loudly, spraying foam and glass against the wall, “DON’T FUCKING SAY IT OR I SWEAR TO GOD-“

“What?” You taunt, waspishly, taking a daring step toward him, “What are you going to do, Sirius?”

A charged silence descends upon the two of you. You glower at him, long and hard. He glares at you, fierce and wild. Every ounce of your being feels consumed with rage.

“What is wrong with you?” You spit, hoarsely. Sirius stares. You stare back and continue, valiantly, “I’ve always loved you, Sirius...since the day we met. I’ve supported you. I’ve cried over you. I’ve fought for you. And even when I was with other people...it was always you. That’s why Remus and I ended it, Sirius. Because he knew I loved you and only you and I’ll always fucking love you,” you break off, glancing away from him. Your bottom lip trembles and you bite down on it long enough to voice the question that’s been swirling around in your head, “And yet...I can’t help but wonder whether you love me too, because you certainly don’t seem to trust me, let alone your friends. Sirius, do you even love me?”

The silence is absolutely deafening. The tension feels sentient, like it’s grasping your throat with a strong, unforgiving grip. Sirius stands still, eyes trained on yours, and he stares at you for so long, you don’t think he’s going to respond.

And then-

His lips crash against yours, fierce and hungry, the force of his kiss throwing you off balance but he catches you before you can topple over, his hands gripping your waist, fingers digging into your skin. He tastes bitter and tangy, like alcohol and self-destruction, but you can’t deny the way it makes you shudder, the way it liquifies your abdomen and makes you forget about the pointless fights and the screaming matches.

And when his tongue delves into your mouth, when it curls and licks and tastes, it’s with a definite undertone of aggression, the kind that makes this even more delicious.

Sirius breaks apart for only a moment before he’s diving down to taste the skin of your neck, biting on the spot that melts your spine. His tongue swirls over the bite mark and then he’s blazing a trail up the pillar of your throat, across your jaw until he meets your lips again.

Teeth clanging against yours in another bruising kiss, Sirius strips you of your clothes with a single flick of his wrist and then makes quick work of his own.

“Sirius,” you gasp, gripping his shoulders as he pushes into you, too desperate and hungry for foreplay.

“Jesus fuck you’re wet,” he grunts, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re fault,” you moan, scraping your nails down his spine and delighting in the little shudder that follows.

“Guess it is always my fault,” he smirks and you want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

Sirius sets a rough, frantic rhythm, desperate for release, thrusting in and out of you and groaning with every deep, wet plunge.

“Merlin, Sirius,” you moan, “I’m so close. So fucking close.”

Sirius’ lips twitch into a smug smirk and then the callous pad of his thumb is pressing into your clit and your gasping, spasming around you as your climax hits you like a gigantic fucking wave.

A few moments later, Sirius slams into you with a cry of your name and then he’s burying himself inside of you, as deep as he can go as his cum pours out of him in rivulets.

Sirius rests his forehead against yours, panting, and you can taste the fire whiskey in his breath as it fans against your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, and then he reaches up to cup your cheek, “I’m sorry. I do love you - Merlin - I love you more than life itself.”

You cover your hand over his, leaning into his touch as he presses a gentle, tender kiss to your lips. The force of his kiss, the desperation in the moan that rumbles in the back of his throat, the way his mouth moves against yours - you can tell without words that he means it.

You believe him.

***

@jamespottersimp @mflufflion @tinymalscoffee @beyoncesdragon @moon-zodiac @siriusmuch

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15-dogs · 4 years

Note

hi!! can I request #1 from promp list 2 for fred x reader? maybe y/n helped Fred and George pull a prank and now they’re all running from filch. I love your writing btw!! <3

assumptions |f.w.|

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: you just keep ending up in small spaces with your crush fred weasley, don’t you?

prompt: there’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close

warnings: none

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/N/N) = your nickname, (Y/L/N) = your last name, italics = flashback

word count: 1990

a/n: omg I absolutely ADORE fred like so so much!! I haven’t written him in so long so I hope this does him (and your request !) justice :) hope you like it!!

“Go, go!” Fred shouted at you, taking you by the wrist and tugging you down the hall. George ran beside you, throwing glances over his shoulder at a particularly angry Filch charging at you three.

“What did you get?” you asked between pants.

“Now’s not the time for questions, love!” George replied. You didn’t notice as he received a sharp glare from his twin over your head.

“Lookout, (Y/N), lookout. Does that word mean anything to you?” Fred stared down at you, feigning anger.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted!”

By what, you’d never tell him. As the twins had browsed through Filch’s office in hopes of finding their canary creams prototype, Fred had gotten rather warm. He decided to remove his sweater, accidentally tugging his shirt up with it to reveal his Beater-toned body.

You had fallen for Fred a long time ago. It was a few years back, you were staying at the Burrow. Your ex boyfriend had broken up with you a few days prior, claiming that you were just too close with those Weasley twins, especially Fred. You were up for days, racking your brain about what you did wrong. You felt you made a terrible houseguest in that state, rather opting to wear a bright smile around the family when you truly weren’t at your best.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You tiptoed down to the kitchen for a glass of water and jumped out of your skin when Fred popped out at you. He muffled a chuckle at your mortified demeanor before frowning and quickly apologizing when he saw your puffy red eyes.

“Are you okay? I swear I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispered, bending down to meet your eyes.

“No, no. You didn’t do anything, Fred. It’s just...the breakup has been hard.”

“Oh.” Fred looked off to the side, his brow knit together. “Do you want to stay with me tonight? I know that that sorta thing is terrible when you’re alone.”

Your traitorous heart skipped a beat. “Your mum would kill us.”

“That’s not a no,” he teased in a singsong tone. A soft giggle escaped your lips; wait, since when did Fred make you blush?

“Come on,” he offered. He motioned you towards him with a flick of his hand as he stalked towards the couch in the living room. He turned around, noticing that you hadn’t budged. “Come on, love, it’s just me.”

“Why does that give me a bad feeling?”

Fred shot a devilish grin at you that had you weak in the knees. He sat down on the couch, tugging you down beside him. You sat politely beside him, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“What’s all this? Since when have you been afraid of cuddling with me?” His face grew wide with embarrassment. “Merlin, I smell, don’t I?”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to fight back a cackle. “No, no!”

“Then get over here!”

Fred outstretched his arms and you clambered into them, your face entirely red. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the soothing rise and fall slow down as he, too, began to fall asleep. His arms moved up and down your back, calming you instantly.

At some point, you had fallen asleep. You only woke up when Fred had picked you up to put you in your bed. He had no idea you were awake and you weren’t about to test that theory by saying something as he carried you up the stairs. He placed you in your bed, tucking you under your sheets with care. He faltered a moment before leaving, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

It was then you knew you had completely fallen for Fred Weasley, whether you liked it or not.

Your head turned for a fraction of a second but that was enough time for Filch to catch up to you. George groaned, rolling his eyes as he breathed, “You two better thank me for this!” He then shoved you and Fred in a tiny broom closet as he ran off with the stolen items.

Filch ran past your little hiding spot and Fred tucked you close to his chest. You could feel his heart hammering and his breath was hot against your face. You had heard Filch’s footsteps trail off towards George but you didn’t dare say a thing, not with the position you were in.

“You know,” Fred began, “I believe that Filch is out of the way thanks to Georgie’s little stunt.”

You hummed in content. “Maybe we should wait around for a few more minutes just to make sure that he doesn’t come back.”

Fred’s lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re using this as an excuse to be close to me.”

“W-what?” You cursed yourself for getting so flustered by him.

“That’s a yes if I’ve ever heard one.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips. Was he implying what you thought he was? He most certainly was as he was slowly inching towards you, his strong hands anchored on your hips.

“Oi!” George called out. You jumped so fast out of Fred’s arms that you slammed against the wall behind you. “Get a room!”

“That was kind of the plan,” Fred added, throwing you a glance. You were sure that you had never looked so embarrassed in your life.

Just to make matters worse, Filch appeared beside George, sneering at the two of you. You and Fred let out a loud groan as you stalked over to the man, prepared to get punished unjustly for your crimes.

Things had been so strange after that. It certainly felt like a heat of the moment situation so you didn’t dare bring it up with Fred again. However, you seemed to catch a few lingering glances from him but brushed them off as nothing but a friendly stare.

You had gotten a week’s detention with the twins, doing anything from cleaning off the desks in the Potions classroom to setting up the materials for the next Charms class. Unfair? Absolutely. Grueling? Never, not when you had Fred and George with you. They always found ways to have fun during detention, even if it meant getting scolded.

Fred, George, and you were placing down small white feathers for the first years to use during Charms the next day. You three circled the desks, positioning the feathers ever so carefully atop them.

“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Fred called out.

As you turned around, you were attacked by a feather that Fred had enchanted to tickle you. You cackled involuntarily as you patted your pockets for your wand, yanking it out and enchanting a hoard of the feathers to do the same to him.

Just as the fun began, it ended.

“Miss (Y/L/N)! Mr. Weasley! And...er, Mr. Weasley?” Professor Flitwick bellowed as he entered the classroom. The feathers fell to the ground an instant.

“What?!” George threw his hands up in the air. “They started it! I was just a spectator! Honest!”

“That’s exactly what the true perpetrator would say.” A wicked grin spread across Fred’s lips that had a fleet of butterflies occupying your stomach. Fred then turned towards you as you walked over towards him, leaning against the desk beside him. “Don’t you agree, (Y/N/N)?”

“I most certainly do, Freddie.”

“I hope you three understand that I’m not blind. I know that Mr. Fred Weasley and Miss (Y/L/N) were ignoring their duties,” Flitwick informed, his arms crossed. “Detention. Just you two, tomorrow night.”

“But Professor-” you began to protest.

“I expect you to be here right after dinner.”

Flitwick left the room shortly after, throwing careful glares over his shoulder. George sneered at his twin, feigning annoyance. However, you didn’t have to pretend. You slapped Fred’s arm as he snickered.

“What’s so funny? I have to spend another night with you! And without George this time!”

Fred threw a wink at you that had your heart skipping a beat. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

You could feel your face heat up as you scrambled for a response, praying to Merlin that it wasn’t obvious how flustered a single action made you.

“Anything that has Fred Weasley in it is a bad thing.”

You thought that you were going to faint, Fred was so close to you. Flitwick had forced you two to clean out the supplies closet. You were pretending to be upset with him for landing you yet another detention but his stupidly handsome face made it so difficult.

You were just about to scold him for the thousandth time that night when he had placed a hesitant yet firm hand on your hips as he reached above you, placing a small glass jar on a shelf. All intelligent thought flew right out of your head. All you could do was blush-- it was embarrassing.

Fred leaned down so that his breath fanned over the back of your neck. You shivered at the sensation while he whispered, “This just keeps happening to us, doesn’t it?”

“H-huh?”

Smooth, so incredibly smooth.

“Getting stuck in broom closets and such together.” Fred stood up to his full height but his hand was still anchored onto your hip. “If no one knew any better, they’d start assuming things.”

You chanced a look over your shoulder at him-- that was a mistake. He had that lopsided grin that made you want to melt. You cleared your throat and turned back around, hoping that he hadn’t noticed.

You settled on avoiding the topic, seeing as you couldn’t do or say anything without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Assuming things?”

So much for avoiding that topic.

“Yes, assuming things.”

“What sort of things?”

“If I saw two incredibly attractive people going in and out of broom closets, I’d assume that they were snogging.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. Your body went rigid and your eyes wide. It took your brain a few seconds to process what he had just said. A quiet chuckle left Fred’s lips, his chest rumbling against your back.

“You think that I’m attractive?” you asked, gaining confidence.

Fred spun you around so that you were flush against his chest. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the upperhand slip from you.

“Love, I think you’re gorgeous.”

You laughed nervously and stepped backwards out of his grasp. “These things sure are small.”

“You’re doing that thing,” said Fred, stepping towards you.

You gulped. “What thing?”

“That thing you do when you’re nervous. That adorable little laugh.” Fred brushed some hair from your eyes, his gaze piercing. “Do I make you nervous?”

“What?” That same nervous laugh fell from you again. You frowned, pursing your lips in a tight line.

��That laugh. I do make you nervous, don’t I?”

“What? No.” Your laughing spilled into your speech now. Merlin, this was humiliating.

“Is it me? Or is it the assumptions about us?” Fred quirked a brow up, awaiting your response. When he didn’t hear anything, a lazy grin twitched his lips upwards. “It’s both, isn’t it?”

“Yes!”

You did not mean to say that.

“Oh?” Fred placed a hand on the shelf over your end, effectively boxing you in.

“No, wait-”

Fred leaned down, planting a passionate kiss on your lips. It was heated, like it was pent up from years and years of yearning. Your hands ran up his chest and tangled in his hair. You felt the world was spinning; it didn’t feel real.

Fred was the one to pull away, placing gentle pecks on your lips. He rested his forehead against yours as he panted, a wide smile on both of your faces.

“So,” he breathed, “how about we confirm those assumptions?”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fred weasley imagine

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ununquadius · 3 years

Text

Ours

Summary: What’s big, sunny, and in the countryside?

Harry has to guess it. Wordcount: 700 Tags: texting fic, domestic drarry

For @textrovert-01 for encouraging me to write it, even if it wasn’t your intention❤️ Thanks to mosroel for the beta❤️

You can read it on AO3

Today 10:35 AM

Hey, you there?

Yeah

did something happen?

I found it

You found what?

Today 10:40 AM

Draco??

What did you find!?

Guess

Something you lost? My old snitch? The T-shirt you said you’ve lost but know for a fact you threw in the trash because you hated it?

I DID NOT HATE IT, YOU PRAT! I lost it!

Sure

It was orange

I love orange

Sure

I do

Anyway, that’s not the point! Guess what I found!

I honestly have no idea of what it could be

You’re not fun at all

I’m pouting, by the way

You pouting isn’t going to make me guess what the hell you found

And btw I’m in a meeting, I shouldn’t be texting you right now

Oh, but you are!

Do you want to sext? I’d love to see you trying to keep a straight face there in front of McGonagall while I tell you what I want to do to you

OMG NO! Shut up!

I’m not answering you anymore if you do that

I want to touch your pine

My pine? You want to touch my pine?

penis*!!

So hot! I’ve always liked people touching my pine

People???

Are you going to be a dramatic git now over one word?

NO! I’m just jealous you let people touch your pine, but you make fun of me when I say it

Idiot

One hint! It’s big!

What?

Oh, we’re back at the guessing game

A dog?

No. We already have a wonderful and perfect dog

A fridge?

A fridge? That’s what you think makes me so excited? A fridge? Merlin, Potter. I’m not at that stage of adulthood yet

You spent TWO HOURS yesterday talking about supermarkets

SAINSBURY’S HAVE BETTER ICE-CREAM THAN TESCO AND THAT’S A FACT!

Easy there, supermarket’s expert

Fuck

McG is looking funny at me. I think she suspects something

Say hi to Minerva for me when she rips your limbs apart❤️

Today 11:05 AM

Did she kill you?

No, I’m still alive, but I had to hide the phone

I can text now, or talk if you want

Can’t. I’m at St Mungo’s. Baby guard, must be silent shhhh

How’s Scorpius?

Beautiful

You’re so cute when you talk about him

I know

SECOND HINT

It’s sunny

A beach?

Yes, Potter, I found a beach in ENGLAND that is sunny

Summer and climate change are things

It’s November, and it’s fucking freezing

Woah! Are you supposed to speak like that in the baby guard??

They can’t read

Okay, you’re thicker than I thought. Third hint: it’s in the countryside

Big, sunny, and countryside? A farm? But I don’t know why you of all people would be excited about a farm

Because I’m not. I don’t want to get dirty with pigs and cows and mud

You know what? I think you’re rubbish at giving hints

Wait, no

I KNOW you’re rubbish at it

THE TIME WE PLAYED THAT STUPID GAME AT GRANGER’S HAS BEEN WILDLY TWISTED!

Sure, love. Anyone could have guessed that small, weird, and disgusting were describing a pear

Exactly. And don’t you forget that

Today 11:25 AM

A field

A tree

A cow

A house

Sorry, I was saying goodbye to my perfect son

A cow??? A cow???

Since when are cows sunny??

So it isn’t a cow

Pity

I’ve always wanted one

Liar

You’re scared of them

We agreed on not talking about that again!!!

You agreed on that. I took pictures of your scared arse running away from that little cow

It wasn’t little

It was tiny

COWS AREN’T TINY! THEY’RE GIANT BY DEFINITION!

That one had been alive for like 3 hours

And it was huge

You guessed it, by the way

What?? Which one was it??

A house???

You found us a house????

YES!

A big, sunny, in the countryside house!

OMG, DRACO! Why didn’t you say so before??

I’m crying!

I’m so excited that I’m crying!

Don’t you want to see it first?

I trust you. I know it’s perfect

And it’ll be ours

Yes! Ours to spend the rest of our life in!

I love you

Don’t be such a sap❤️

#i wrote a fic #drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x harry #my fic #texting fic #domestic and bickering drarry

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plant-flwrs · 3 years

Note

hi! could you do a draco x reader imagine where it’s enemies to lovers and one night at a party draco gets drunk and confesses his feelings?

drunk // draco malfoy

masterlist!

a/n: i literally had an idea exactly like this n my drafts omg but it was smut :0 wut r the odds. n e way, hope u like it, thanks for the request anon!!

summary: You and Draco are enemies until one drunken night leads to a confession of secret feelings.

(4.4k)

----------

It was no secret that the Slytherin house was plagued by Draco Malfoy. The house was split; people who went along with Malfoy’s bullying and those who hated the boy. You were proud to say you definitely did not get along with Draco.

Over the many years of mutual torment between the two of you, you had both improved on your ways you made the other’s life a living hell.

This week, you had decided to casually mention to Ron that in his sleep, Draco sucked his thumb. You had no idea if this was true, of course, but you knew Ron would tell everyone he knew.

In retort, Draco had been stealing any of your school work you left out in the common room. He would return it a few days later with all your work erased.

This was typical. It would have been unusual if you didn’t have the added stress Draco gave you.

The worst part was the classes you shared. You shared a fair amount of them, being in the same house and finding a lot of your courses to be the same. The both of you were fairly smart, proving to be good competition.

Charms was your least favorite. You had an awful memory, and when you had to remember the physical movements with the vocal spell, you struggled miserably. Draco did fine in Charms, which made it even worse.

Today was particularly difficult, having to memorize at least ten spells, each with different movements and verbal aspects. You sulked out of the room, loosening your green tie in frustration.

“Finding Charms a little hard today?” Draco mocked, raising his voice so it mimicked that of a baby’s.

“Not as hard as that Transfiguration test was for you last week. How much like a tea pot did your poor little mouse look like? I seem to recall it still had its tail,” you retorted, feeling better already about Charms as you looked at Draco’s sour expression.

“So what? What good will a mouse teapot do me? At least I can cast a gouging charm without nearly killing half the class,” Draco shot back, taking an intimidating step closer to you.

The two of you stood off in the middle of the hallway. This often happened after Charms, for it was the last class of the day and neither of you had anything better to do than shout at each other.

You rolled your eyes at the boy and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t even come close to killing anyone, Draco. Your such a drama queen,” you teased him, enjoying the flush on his cheeks.

“Oh shut up,” he managed to still sound fierce, even with the pink hint on his face.

“Gonna cry about it?” you teased further, hoping to rile him up more.

He squinted his eyes at you and gave you one last critical look. He lifted his lip in a sneer and stalked off, Goyle and Crabbe following after him.

That was how you and Draco interacted. You would tease him, press his buttons, and he would get incredibly angry. It either ended with his storming off, or him saying something hurtful enough that actually made you sink to his level. He didn’t do it very frequently, because usually it resulted in him having a bruised eye for a few weeks.

You were happy to stand up to Draco, because not many other people did it. He was often too favored by Snape to ever get too badly hurt by Harry, and everyone else was too scared of him. Snape didn’t often interfere with the interactions between you and Draco, and you assumed he simply did not care.

You left Charms for the day feeling significantly more confident than when you had entered. You failed miserably at the assignments, and that upset you, but your little victory over Draco made up for it. You walked with Pansy to the Black Lake, books clutched tight to your chest as shields against the cold air nipping your skin. Your scarf clung to your neck and did its best to defend your vulnerable lips.

“You really can’t go?” you asked again, adding a slight whine to your voice.

“I can’t,” Pansy replied regretfully, “I’ve got loads of work to do, and my mum’s been on me about it recently.”

Pansy had fallen behind in more than a few of her courses. You supposed you could blame yourself a little, but didn’t like to think that hard about it. You and Pansy had been fast and loose recently, attending almost any and every party you could find, and spending a little more money than usual on certain substances. You justified it, though, thinking you’d be spending just as much at Hogsmeade every weekend.

“It won’t be any fun without you, though,” you said, still hoping she would change her mind.

“You’ll have Daphne,” Pansy said teasingly, “give her enough firewhisky and she’s a hoot.”

You giggled with Pansy, thinking back to the last time Daphne got drunk at a party. She had climbed on almost every elevated surface to dance, and when she ran out of tables to stand on, she had tried walking on the heads of the nearest first years.

“Can I help you on some of your work? Get it out of the way?” you offered, practically desperate at this point.

“Would you? That might actually work,” Pansy exclaimed, rushing to the nearest tree to sit against with her school things.

You trailed after her, sitting next to her and pulling out some of your quills. You looked dutifully at Pansy’s Ancient Runes work, starting to write in your best attempt at your best friend’s handwriting.

You knew there was an ulterior motive in wanting Pansy at the party, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. She was usually the only person who could effectively stop you from drunkenly interacting with Draco. She was the only one who could keep you two separate. As much as you hated Draco, something in your drunk subconscious always made you drawn to him. You needed her at that party.

Pansy stole a glance from her Potions work, looking at you. She smiled thankfully, tucking her short hair behind her ear and returning to her work.

The two of your worked silently for as long as you could, but the sun was against you. It crept away, hiding behind trees and clouds. The two of you began to collect Pansy’s scattered books in the dusk, some faint and lingering sunlight peaking through trees branches lighting the ground. You pulled your robes closer to you, feeling the air get colder as the sun was no longer there to warm you. You and Pansy struggled back to the castle, avoiding stray tree roots carefully.

The both of you heard leaves crunching from a few feet away. You ignored it, figuring it was just some other students making their way up to the castle for dinner, too. The light was fading more and more, and you and Pansy were just about to clamber out of the heavily forested area when something hard knocked into your shoulder from behind. Draco had come from the left of you, walking past you and throwing his shoulder into yours. You stumbled forwards, but Pansy’s vigilant hand was quick to steady you before you could fall forwards.

“Merlin!” you said out of surprise, before you realized who it was.

His hair looked white in the moonlight that now illuminated the field. The bottom half of his face was shadowed by a tree, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was smirking. You rolled your eyes, feeling your feet firmly planted on the ground again, and began walking past Draco with Pansy’s arm looped in yours.

“Scare ya?” Draco snarled, taking a few long strides to walk in pace with you and Pansy.

“The only thing about you that scares me, Draco, is your nasty breath,” you said, pretending to sound sweet.

Draco scoffed, and you made a disgusted face, pretending to smell his breath from the few feet you were away from him.

“Honestly Draco,” Pansy said from beside you, struggling to hide her smile but going along with your joke and lifting her hand to cover her nose, “you’d think some of your daddy’s money would go towards toothpaste.”

You laughed earnestly, looking to Draco so you wouldn’t miss the offended face you knew he always made. He wasn’t doing it though, his brows weren’t furrowed and his lips weren’t curled. He looked off. His eyes narrowed but his lips were spread into some sort of crooked grin.

You narrowed your eyes back at him in suspicion, which he noticed. He quickly snapped out of whatever he was in, and his usual sneer was directed towards you and Pansy as he sulked off to the castle.

You and Pansy sat at the Slytherin table in your usual spots. Draco was a few people away from the both of you, as he usually was, but you both ignored him. It was easy to do, especially recently. Blaise had taken a peculiar interest in Pansy, and wherever Blaise went followed his friend Klein.

Blaise was busy fawning over Pansy, watching her with a dazed look as she brushed her hair from her face. Klein kept his eyes locked on you, something you did not mind.

The boy was a year ahead of you, and he was the interest of just about every Slytherin girl. His green eyes were piercing, especially against the black hair that fell onto his forehead. He always kept his tie remarkably straight, and you often found yourself twirling it in your fingers to tease him.

Tonight, he and Blaise walked with you and Pansy around the grounds before curfew.

“Are you going to the party on Saturday?” Blaise asked Pansy, bringing his arm up to wrap around her shoulders.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, and upon seeing your pitiful face she continued, “I’ll try, but no guarantees.”

“Are you going?” Klein asked you, pulling a hand from his pocket to adjust his green tie.

“Of course,” you smirked, “I would never miss a party.”

Klein stared at you for a moment longer, and aware of his gaze, you bit your lip. You liked to mess with him, he was always so uptight and serious, it was fun to see him unwind just at your little actions.

You and Pansy said goodnight to the boys as you went to the girls dorms.

The next day was odd, for as you came down the stairs to the common room, you saw Draco. It was not odd to see Draco in the common room, but it was odd for him to not immediately find you in a room and insult you. Instead, he merely locked his eyes with yours and stared at you. When you crinkled your face in confusion, he looked away, turning his attention back down to the book perched in his lap.

“Ready for breakfast?” Pansy asked, coming from behind you on the stairs.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, still looking at Draco as you followed her out of the common room.

In Potions, Draco didn’t torment you. In Transfiguration, he only stared at you, no sneer or grimace present. Most strangely, in Charms, he didn’t even bat an eye when your wand movement was off and your spell rebounded and hit Hannah Abbot.

You apologized to Hannah profusely, even offering to walk her to the infirmary as her hand began to swell two times its normal size. She blushed, obviously embarrassed by the affliction, but insisted she could go by herself. She made sure you knew she forgave you, smiling politely as you followed her to the door and watched her go down the hallway. You shouted one last apology at her as she turned the corner, and she lifted her swelled hand in a friendly wave.

Draco watched the entire interaction from his seat, his eyes following you as you held Hannah’s large hand in yours to look at the damage you caused. He looked at the guilty expression on your face, the red tint in your cheeks. He felt two things bubbling in his stomach: adoration and rage. He felt adoration, as he had been feeling for you for a while, and felt rage because he felt this way.

He swallowed hard as your eyes met his. In your flustered and guilty state, you shot him an annoyed look. He widened his eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring, and plunged his face downward to look back into his Charms textbook.

Draco had been weird lately, you noticed. For it was the third day, Friday by now, of no loud arguments in the hall, no insults in the common room, and not even a stray dinner roll being launched at your head during dinner (yes, he did that often). You and Pansy, however, were too busy doing her late work to do anything about Draco. She really was behind, and it was hard for you to do her late work as you had new assignments to do yourself. Pansy found a similar difficulty, leading you both to spend your Friday night poured over textbooks in the common room.

“Hard at work, girls?” you and Pansy looked up to see Blaise and Klein.

They fell into the couch across form you where you sat at a wooden desk against the wall. You had pulled two large armchairs to the table, the leather giving you some sort of relief as you bent over the work. Klein’s long arms stretch the length of the two person couch, and his stalky fingers tapped against it. Blaise leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at Pansy. Klein eyed you hungrily, obviously enjoying the sight of your tie undone and your skirt riding up as you sat with your legs tucked beneath you.

Normally, you and Pansy would have engaged the boys, entertained yourselves with their mindless presence, but you had real things to do. Blaise and Klein may have been handsome, but they definitely weren’t the company you wanted right now.

“Hello Blaise,” Pansy mumbled tiredly, not looking up from the Transfiguration essay she was about to finish, “how’re you?”

“I’m alright,” he said airily, leaning back into the couch and taking Pansy’s simple question as an invitation to stay and talk.

You fought the urge to groan, not looking up form the Arithmancy problems you scrawled over and over.

“How about we sneak to the kitchens tonight?” Klein suggested, and you heard the smirk in his voice without having to look at him.

“We’re busy,” you said curtly, clenching your jaw as you came across a difficult set of numbers.

Pansy looked up at you from her paper, flashing you a warning look. You rolled your eyes, giving her an exasperated look. She raised her eyebrows, her face becoming stern. You sighed, releasing the tight grip on your quill.

“I’m sorry boys,” you forced your sweetest voice, “we’ve got loads of homework to do before the party tomorrow. Another time?”

Blaise looked disappointed, but accepting. Klein stood to his full height, and your eyes followed him as he grew. He looked down at you with a playful smirk, licking his lips.

“Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded and Pansy waved kindly to Blaise. You decided then that you were no longer interested in Klein. He had been fun when he got flustered just from a glance, but now he was becoming like every other teenage boy. His smirks made you want to gag, and his lingering looks were creepy. You figured you’d tell him tomorrow night, if you still cared that much by then.

You and Pansy continued to work until Pansy slouched back in her chair and groaned loudly.

“I can’t get it done tonight. I’ll have to work on it tomorrow,” she pouted, but looked resolute.

You didn’t bother to attempt another guilt trip, or convince her otherwise. Pansy’s mind was made up. You had to go to this party alone. Pansy wouldn’t let you stay in the dorm all night with her, either, so it’s not like you even had a choice. At least Klein wouldn’t bother you. He seemed to only have the guts to come up to you if Blaise did too, and he wouldn’t come up to you if you weren’t with Pansy. Now all you had to do was make sure not to get roped into an argument with Draco. You had to be the bigger person for one night and make sure you wouldn’t do anything you’d regret in the morning.

Pansy was right, she couldn’t get all her work done that night. She sat on her bed with books sprawled around her. You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the clothe hugging your body. You looked good, you felt good.

“You’re going to be fine,” Pansy reassured you for the tenth time as you sat at the end of her bed, “you can go to parties without me.”

“Okay, but if I come back here tonight having lost a shoe or something, it’s your fault,” you joked, smiling as Pansy laughed.

You, Daphne, and Millicent stayed in your dorm for a little while longer. You moved some clothes around in your trunk, lifting a hidden compartment at the bottom. You retrieved two bottles of firewhisky, handing them to Daphne and Millicent. You closed your trunk, meeting the impressed expressions of the girls. Usually Fred and George Weasley provided alcohol for the school, known for their impressive parties. You and Pansy, however, had your own supply you liked to keep for rainy days. While this wasn’t a rainy day, you couldn’t help the need for a little liquid courage as you had to go to your first party without your best friend. You took the bottle from Millicent and Pansy giggled as she looked up from her Ancient Rune dictionary to watch you take a large swig of the drink.

You felt it burn as it traveled down your throat, and it spread through your body like a warm blanket. You handed the bottle back to Millicent, and the three of you finished off an entire bottle. You didn’t want to go downstairs until you heard the music become loud enough, and by the time you were putting the empty bottle back in your trunk, the party roared downstairs.

The three of you said goodbye to Pansy and went to the common room. The music became louder and louder as you got closer to the party. Soon, Daphne was dragging you and Millicent to a large table with assorted drinks. You watched a boy on the other side of the table pouring himself a heavy amount of a clear liquid. He met your eyes and handed you the bottle. You looked at the label but all that was there was a cartoon drawing of a witch with bubbles spouting from her mouth. You raised your eyebrow at the boy, and he smiled, taking a sip of his drink. You filled your own cup with the liquid, drinking it quickly. It burned more than the firewhisky did, but it was still enjoyable.

You felt your head feel lighter as Daphne clasped onto your hand to pull you out to the dance floor. You danced with her, and as you moved your cup slid from your hand. You and Daphne looked at it for a moment, the cup spilled over as a wet spot formed on the carpet. You looked back up at each other and fell into a fit of giggles.

You continued to dance, looking around the crowd with ease. You felt like someone was staring at you, but you couldn’t find anyone in particular. The music and alcohol coursed through your veins. You felt lighter than you had in months, no worrying thoughts of homework or boys, or even Draco Malfoy.

The second you thought about how you weren’t thinking about Malfoy, you were immediately thinking about him. Part of you missed the hateful sparks between you, the natural narrow of your eyes at the sight of him.

Your body tensed involuntarily, and your drunk subconscious was already hoping to see his blond hair in the crowd. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking of what to say so Draco’s stern face would devolve into a furious expression.

You slowed next to Daphne, a wicked look overtaking your dazed face.

“What is it?” Daphne shouted into your ear, pulling you closer by your arm.

“I’ve got to go find someone,” you shouted back, “I’ll be back in a second.”

You were moving through the crowd before Daphne could reach out and stop you. A small voice in the back of your head sounded a bit like Pansy, her familiars warnings from the last party you were at with Draco. She had found you as you were just about to pour your drink down his front, and her soothing words floated into your drunken mind like good-natured clouds.

“He’s not worth it, honestly. All the stress he causes you is going to give you wrinkles, you don’t want wrinkles. Leave him be,” Pansy was right then and she would have been right again. Alas, Pansy was not here and her words did not echo loud enough in your head as you finally found the blond.

He was draped across a leather couch. His legs dangled off the arm as his head was perched on a pile of blankets. At the floor, Crabbe and Goyle hunched over, goblets clutched loosely in their seemingly unconscious hands. Draco’s eyes were closed, his long eyelashes delicately hovering over his pink flushed cheeks. His hair was pushed off his forehead, falling in handsome tufts onto the blankets under him. You stood there for a moment, interchanging which leg to rest your weight on.

“Are you going to say something,” Draco suddenly drawled, barely loud enough to be heard over the music, “or are you content to sit in silence for once?”

You scoffed, taking a breath that made your chest rise. You walked towards him, curling your warm fingers around his legs and flinging them off the arm of the couch. His body twisted and his eyes opened at the touch. You sat next to him, at least a foot between the both of you.

“What do you want?” he asked, leaning over to take Crabbe and Goyle’s full goblets from them. He handed you Goyle’s as he drank from Crabbe’s.

“Just wanted to see if you had done anything embarrassing that I could tell the whole school about tomorrow,” you lied, taking a considerable sip from the goblet.

Draco scoffs next to you, “Not yet, darling.”

You gave Draco a glance. He seemed distressed about something. The way he cradled the goblet in his hands and drank with an urgency was the way someone drinks when their upset.

“What’s got your panties all tied up, Draco?” you asked teasingly, leaning in his direction slightly.

Draco looked at your lidded eyes, the natural smirk on your pretty lips, the outfit you wore that you looked absolutely amazing in; he couldn’t feel any rage as he looked at you that night.

“You,” he said softly, staying stiffly straight but turning his head to face you.

You felt your cheeks warm, looking at him with a curious smirk.

“Really?” you indulged, wondering what else Draco may drunkenly confess. His words weren’t slurring like yours, but the faint pink flush on his cheeks and his unseemly kindness told you he was not sober.

He nodded silently, looking down at the goblet in his lap.

“Draco,” you said, turning to rest your back against the arm of the couch as your legs spread on the cushions. Your feet were inches from touching Draco’s thighs, and he tensed as he looked at the lack of space, “You’ve been acting odd with me recently.”

Draco, if possible, tensed even more at your statement. He was not nearly as drunk as you thought he was, or as you were.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he stuttered, biting his bottom lip. This was the first time you had ever seen Draco Malfoy seem flustered.

“Draco?” you slurred, not speaking again until he turned his face to yours.

You moved forward, bending your legs so you still didn’t touch him, but so your face was close to his.

“Do you fancy me?” you drawled, intrigued.

Draco’s previously tense and stiff stature seemed to relax, as if a secret was released that he had been bottling up. He brought his goblet to his lips slowly, and you did the same, the both of you finishing off what Crabbe and Goyle had been drinking.

“If I’m going to be honest-” Draco had turned his head to you and began speaking, but you weren’t listening. His lips looked so soft and his eyes looked so kind, you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him.

He was surprised at first, unmoving against your lips. You smiled, still against him, and it seemed to make him realize what was happening. Within seconds, one of his hands was on your waist as the other was on your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, tasting a cinnamon flavored alcohol on his tongue as he slid it into your mouth. Your brought your hands to his neck, unable to stop yourself from playing with his hair. You ran your fingernails across his scalp and down to the nape of his neck, smiling again as he moaned into your lips.

You pulled away when it felt like your lungs needed air, which they did, and kept your eyes closed. Your shoulder fell into the side of the couch, your forehead resting on Draco’s shoulder.

You felt yourself drifting off into a drunken sleep, your body feeling heavy as it slumped into Draco’s.

“I really like you, Y/n. I really do,” Draco confessed from beside you, stroking your hair, “I think you’re the most clever person I’ve ever met.”

You felt your heart swoon at his confession, wondering if he said it because he thought you were already asleep, or if the alcohol was affecting him as much as you. You shifted, bringing your legs to fall into his lap, to which Draco wrapped his slender fingers around your thigh and pulled your closer to his body.

“I hope you’re not too drunk to remember this,” he mumbled, his own eyes fluttering shut as the both of you fell asleep.

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starkidpotty · 3 years

Text

In Cahoots [HJP]

Request: hey omg your writing is so good! can I request Harry and reader being friends and having detention with umbridge together and then walking back together to the common room late at night and taking care of each other and then they admit their feelings for each other? Have a wonderful day! 💕💕 - anon

You never mean to say or do most things, but this time it works out for the better.

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, scars, and wounds

A/N: I deviated from them being friends ;( i love awkward teen interactions too much. i hope u enjoy it regardless! <3

Punishments for misbehavior at Hogwarts were never bloody. Scary, perhaps, but never bloody. Umbridge made it clear she did not care much for this unwritten rule, and had a taste for a more medieval way of disciplining the students. Harry was the first person to incur damage from Dolores’ sadistic black quill, until you found yourself in detention with him. Your reason for detention was stupid (Umbridge’s rules were stupid) as you were found by the Inquistorial squad with a dungbomb you had no intention of using in your pocket. Meanwhile, Harry was serving day three out of his 2 week detention with Umbridge. You mournfully hated that this was the most interaction you and him have had outside of the DA meetings.

Both of you were tasked to repeatedly write I must not break rules until it was scabbed and bleeding onto your hands. You were sat next to Harry, on your 28th or 29th repetition of the line–you lost count, as the pain started to amplify the more you wrote. Umbridge was looking quite pleased with herself, as she paced back and forth while watching the both of you with a nefarious grin plastered onto her ugly face. Tears had started to pool in your eyes making them appear like watercolor-painted puddles. You were trying your hardest to suck them back into your tear ducts to no avail. Tear by slow tear began to crawl its way down your face and onto the empty parchment as you wrote with your quill. The effect of the quill for some odd reason was extreme on your hand. You were bleeding more profusely than your contemporaries, you noticed.

Umbridge finally relinquished the both of you from the painful task and you immediately took hold of your book bag, haphazardly dropping the black quill onto the floor, and flounced to the exit, beating Harry to it.

Your lips were pressed together in a fine line, trying to stifle in a cry until you rounded a corner and sat on the nearest bench. In a desperate attempt to get the bleeding to stop, you carelessly unknotted your Gryffindor tie and tied it over the wounds. You sat for a few seconds, pressing firmly on the wound to get it to stop bleeding. Your tears were now free flowing at this point.

Harry spots you from his peripherals, as he exits detention. Harry walks over to you to comfort you, as he knows how terrible the wounds are the first time around. You, on the other hand, were so fixated on the wound, that as you stood up to go to the girl’s lavatory, the top of your head made contact with Harry’s jaw.

Harry takes a few steps back, surprised by the sudden contact between your scalp and his chin. And, you are now nursing two boo-boos instead of the one. Harry composes himself quickly and takes steps toward, while still clutching his jaw. You are holding your head and while your hand bleeds freely over the floor, even with the tie wrapped around it.

“You’re, uh, bleeding,” He stammers as his eyes follow the drops of blood. He swoops to take your hand and unravel the red-stained, makeshift Gryffindor tie bandage, carelessly placing it in his front pocket. He tries his best to be gentle but failing as you wince, “Quite a lot.”

“I am fairly well-aware, Harry.” You didn’t mean for this to come off as snarky, but as the pain and bleeding on your hand intensify, you really couldn’t control your tone, even if it was Harry that was talking to you.

“Of course, sorry.” He replies to you sheepishly, “I’ll help you clean it up, if it’s alright.” Harry took this opportunity to not only help you, but to be able to stand in such close proximity to you–something he’s been pathetically inching towards the whole school year.

He doesn’t wait for your response and leads you to the girl’s lavatory, heading straight to the sink. He turns the faucet on and gently takes your hand under the running water. He wipes away the blood with both his hands, and you stare at his hand. Underneath the newly minted wounds were faded and healing wounds spelling out “I must not tell lies”.

The pain made its presence on your hand very clear, but your thoughts were swirling around erratically. Harry Potter was tending to your wounds, holding your hand, standing oh-so painstakingly close to you in the girl’s lavatory. Your little schoolgirl crush on him started after the Yule Ball and stayed ever since. So, regardless of how much pain you were in, you were enjoying his presence.

He’s fixated on your hands as quite literally, the bleeding wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard he pressed. Also because he was too shy to look at you, square in the face.

“With all the bleeding, I’d guess you were a hemophiliac,” Harry declares seriously, trying to make the atmosphere more comfortable.

You didn’t know whether to take this as a joke or an insult as you, being the pureblood you were, did not know what a hemophiliac was. You give him a confused look, head tilted slightly, brows furrowed at the center. Harry, on the other hand, was beating himself up for trying to cut the silence in such a dumb way.

“Sorry? Is that a muggle joke?” You question.

“Oh, er, sorry,” He awkwardly stammers out, “It’s a muggle condition where your wounds don’t quite necessarily know when to stop bleeding.”

All you muster is a softly-spoken, oh. You were still awkwardly standing with your hand in Harry’s. Harry turns off the faucet and grabs your tie out from his pocket. He dabs it gently and presses it firmly onto your wounded hand. With his free hand, he fishes his wand from his pocket.

Uncovering your tie from the wound he says, “Episkey,” while pointing his wand at your hand. The wounds scabbed over, stopping the bleeding. As your tie is drenched in blood (you were astounded at how much blood your hand let out, perhaps you were what muggles called a “hemophiliac”), Harry unties his own tie and wraps it around your scabbed hand for good measure. You take this opportunity to wipe your face dry with your untouched hand. He hands you your bloodied tie and you shove it into your bookbag.

He stares at you and smiles, “I hope that would help, one way or another.” He’s still holding your wounded hand and stares at you. You look to meet his eyes and for a few seconds your eyes lock. You get red in the face and look down quickly. Harry lets out an awkward chuckle and gently drops your hand out of his.

“Thank you, Harry, but what about your wounds?” You ask him as now you take his wounded hand. You examine the scar on his left-hand. You rub your thumb gently near the wounds, paying extra attention to not gloss over the newly formed scabs. He tamely takes his hand away from you and hangs it at his side.

“I’ll manage.” He replies to you. Not wanting to give you the chance to contest he continues, “Uh, would you like to head back to the common room together?”

“I don’t think we’ve much a choice,” you respond, smiling lightly.

Walking out the girl’s lavatory–thanking Merlin that no one saw Harry scamper out the door–and make your way to the Gryffindor tower. The silence is extremely awkward. Harry sneaks glances at you, as you look out to the Hogwarts courtyard to ease out of whatever mental bind you’ve put on your tongue.

“So, Ha–” you begin. At the same time, Harry opens his mouth to speak uttering the first syllable of your name. You both look down at the floor, grinning like idiots.

“Sorry,” Harry says, “Please, you first.”

You let out a breathless half-giggle, “Umbridge’s quill is quite evil, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.” Harry wanted to scream into a cauldron. Months of imagining a full-on conversation with you in his head and all he could muster was a puny indeed?

Another awkward pause takes a hold of the two of you.

You begin again, “So… are you and Cho, er, together? In cahoots?” You mentally slap yourself on the forehead. What kind of teenager says cahoots unironically?

“Me? Cho?” Harry questions you, looking bewildered. Harry was surprised at your question, as he thought his pitiful pining over you was already painfully obvious.

“Is-is it not a thing?” You stammer out, a bit surprised.

“Not in the slightest.” Confirms Harry.

“Well, I only ask,” You pause, trying to recollect your thoughts and choose your words carefully, “because you too seem very close.”

“Well, she’s a good friend, but no. We aren’t together. She’s still mourning Cedric.”

“Oh, I can only imagine.”

A third awkward silence takes you both once more. You are unaware, but Harry is just as nervous as you are. You and Harry have finally made it to the moving staircases, you two make your way up. Just as you hit the middle of the staircase, it moves, leaving you and Harry stuck until it returns to its original position. Harry wanted to throw himself off of the magical staircase right about now.

Harry thinks this is as good a time as ever to sneakily confirm–hopefully deny–his suspicions and continues the conversation, “What about you, and, uh, Anthony Goldstein?”

Your face reflexively cringes and Harry smiles at the scene, “Have I said something?”

“Yes, you said Anthony Goldstein.”

“Well, I thought you and he were in cahoots.” He jokes at you, trying to fake confidence.

You bury your face in your hands, “Merlin, he was a git. He was quite rude to me after he told me how he felt about me because I confessed I had a little crush on you.” You immediately regret the oversharing of information as Harry eyes widen. But deep down, he’s more relieved than not, as you had accidentally made the proverbial first move.

You try and play it off with a laugh, “Well, I mean, they say you are the Chosen One, and, uh I think you are quite nice-looking,” Nice-looking? you think to yourself. You continue to save yourself the embarrassment, “you’re great at spells too, and, uh, very brave, I’d say.”

Harry goes red in the face at your flurry of compliments, but he only repeats, “Nice-looking?”

“Quite.”

Harry doesn’t know what force propels him to start acting all cheekily with you but he says, “I think you’re, er, quite nice-looking as well. Talented at spells, too.”

“So I guess it’s agreed upon then?” you ask him.

“Sorry?”

“That we both think we are nice-looking...and good at spellwork.” You joshed.

“If anything, I think you’re more than quite nice-looking–you’re very beautiful.” Harry says so quickly, it’s almost a miracle he didn’t trip over his tongue.

It’s as though your’s and Harry’s faces were having a contest on who could make who redder–you were sure you were winning.

“That’s you, I think.” You say to return the compliment, then subsequently groaning realizing how it came out.

“You think I’m beautiful too?” Harry bantered..

“Much more beautiful than me, I suppose.”

The staircase finally shifts to the correct landing and the both of you ascend to the Gryffindor tower entrance, Harry says the password, gesturing for you to step in first. You turn to him to thank him but your lips meet his cheek instead. You inadvertently tell him you have a crush on him and then you inadvertently make a move on him, not even 2 minutes apart? What a mess.

“Merlin, sorry, Harry! I didn’t realize you were so close.” You apologize.

“No worries, [Y/N]” He says without looking at you as his stomach suddenly turned into a trapeze artist and started doing flips upon flips.

Thank Merlin there was no one in the common room to watch you and Harry make bumbling fools of yourselves. You both pause at the entryway of the common room, until you begin to speak.

“I want to say thank you, by the way,” You say. You begin to unravel his tie from your hand, seeing as your hand was no longer hurting. “Here’s your, uh, tie, by the way. Thank you for tending to it, even if you didn’t have to.”

“Anytime,” Harry replies.

You turn to head to the stairs to make way to your dormitory but Harry calls out.

“I just want to repeat that me and Cho aren’t, er, dating or, as you call it, in cahoots. ” He says to you.

“You’ve said that,” You tell him while smiling.

“Perhaps, you and I could be in cahoots–I mean it could be something you and I could work toward, if it’s alright with you, but if it’s not, it’s completely fine, I’d still think you’re very beautiful regardless.” Harry is rapping at this point, heart beating in his ears.

You’re surprised and extremely elated at Harry’s burst of confidence, “It is alright by me, Harry. I think I’d like that–I know I would, actually.”

“Brilliant. Absolutely excellent.” He beams.

“Absolutely.”

masterlist here

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