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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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You Don’t Know Me

—•°. for @pregnant-piggy’s writing challenge with the angst prompt 24 “I used to think that I didn’t deserve you, but now I’ve realised that you don’t deserve me.”

PAIRING: Professor!Draco x Fem!Professor!Reader

SUMMARY: Their love has a deadline, it just isn’t clear to both parties that it isn’t forever when the Potions Professor courts the Charms Professor, unbeknownst to him that she’s determined to be somewhere else.

WORDS: 8.5k (originally 8.7k but...i cut it down hehe)

WARNING(S): fluff + angst, cursing, arguments, flirting, not proofread, and kinda messy because i’m uninspired auzjdjwwa NOT SMUT || THIRD PERSON

A/N: i’m terribly sorry that this is long || kinda based on a bit of the movie hello, love, goodbye and the scene in himym s1 when victoria leaves. almost forgot to add the playlist.

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

I. The Living Daylights [September 1991]

Long halls and grand staircases kept her on her feet, and she wanted to know so bad what was behind those grand doors. A taller boy stood in front of her and although she knew he couldn’t see her, she scowled at his stupid, stupid back.

She gently moved to the side to get a better look and hear — who was it again? — Professor McGonagall talk and orient them. The grand door was a bit open, and she could see light leaking through.

Innumerable candles hovered right above the tables, and she couldn’t help but admire every single one of them. Normally, people unnerved her especially when it’s a huge crowd but this . . . it’s magical and it’s real at the same time! You don’t see a lot of that detached from fiction. She pinched her left wrist as hard as she could and let out a yelp just right after.

“What are you doing?” said a voice to her left, and a boy emerged from right next to the taller boy from earlier.

“Pinching myself,” she replied.

“Why?” he asked, his face scrunched up. “Are you that stupid?”

“Excuse me?”

And to her surprise (and dismay), the boy stepped forward to her and extended a hand. “I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

“Calm down, Timothy Dalton.” As soon as she said this, she gathered she shouldn’t have at all. Only three other students seemed to get it. Instead of keeping her mouth shut, she didn’t. “You know? James Bond of 1987? Timothy Dalton . . . played James Bond? Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t know James Bond.”

“What?” The boy seemed to be attempting to comprehend what she’d just said.

The girl shrunk. “Er — nothing.” And with one last awkward smile, she took a few more steps to her right to avoid talking to the boy again.

She could’ve sworn she heard him mutter something under his breath, something like Boggles or Goggles.

Later on, she heard the blond boy talk to another boy with glasses. He said the exact same thing he said to her and she tried hard to not laugh when the other boy said no. The blond boy caught her eye, and she immediately shut her mouth close and looked away.

[Y/N] couldn’t be more relieved when they were allowed to enter the room behind the door, now mostly because she wanted to get as far away as she could from the boy than her former intention of exploring the place.

II. Encounter [September 1993]

It’s only their third Potions class of the year, but she already found herself partnered up with the same unkindly boy. He didn’t seem as eager to be friends as before, much less remember her. She doesn’t blame him. After all, this is the first time they’ve talked ever since that weird moment in front of the door to the Great Hall just two years ago.

“I’m ready to shake your hand now.”

“What?” he spat.

“I’m [Y/L/N]. [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. The one who — I’m not proud — said the James Bond thing a few years back.”

“Oh yeah, you. I don’t like you.”

Maybe it was his stupid head or his stupid voice or his stupid (painful) words but she found the will to make a face at his back. Of course, she was reprimanded for this as soon as Professor Snape spotted her.

The next days were unbearable, and this was not because of being scolded by a teacher; it was mostly because she had to spend time with the same boy in the library, who clearly did not appear to be enjoying it as much as she was.

They sat in two different tables which were right next to each other but it put a respectable distance between them, and so they went with it. Desperate to break the silence and at least make small talk, she tapped his side of the table with a shaky grin.

“Hey,” she started, “just imagine all the things we could do on this table! I mean, it’s so wide and we can put so many stuff there. Maybe even put a cauldron or—”

He was stifling a laugh, or at least trying to when she realized what that sounded like.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. Terribly sorry.”

“I don’t like you even more now,” he said with a smile as he proceeded to dip the tip of his quill in ink.

“Good. I don’t like you even more now, either.”

“Finally something we can agree on, then.”

“Oh yeah, look at that. Our first agreement as a couple!” she exclaimed, leaning forward on his table with a toothy grin. When he did not respond, she took it as a sign to not even bother. “Er — grapes?”

But then Madam Pince’s footsteps neared and she had to stuff her container of grapes back to her pocket.

That was the second and last time they ever talked in their younger years.

III. Here We Go Again [September 2001]

There’s a certain familiarity even as she sat in a chair she’d never sat on before; there were only few faces she recognized among the long tables, sure, but it feels like home to be in the same place once more. Maybe it was the glow of the candles hovering above the students or how the first years appeared to be unsurprisingly nervous just like her batch did, but it’s familiar, it’s comfortable.

She knew some of the ones in the higher years. After all, they’d been school mates back when she was only a student. In this situation, the best thing to do would be to at least smile, but she settled for looking at her cup as Minerva McGonagall spoke. Cup, candles, long tables, cup, candles, lo—

“—new Charms Professor [Y/L/N].”

Applauds and cheers erupted from the students, and she forced herself to look up, meeting the eyes of some people she knew and, of course, although dreadful, strangers.

She stood up from her seat, raising her hand in greeting. Just before she sat back down, she saw a figure in a dark cloak with a smug grin from the corner of her eyes. He was familiar, too.

Her first day wasn’t hard, and the only challenge she had to face was ink being spilled by a first year after a fail attempt at the levitation charm. It was quick to fix.

Lunch came and she spent it in her office, admiring the carved edges of her desk. She sat back down on her chair and pulled out a drawer, from which she withdrew a rich parchment and laid it gingerly on the surface of her table.

[Y/N] was about to dip her quill in her most fine ink when the double doors swung open, causing her to jump from her seat. Her eyes immediately went to the paper on her desk, afraid of spilled ink. To her relief, there was none. “Yes?” she asked the guest who came unannounced.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N],” said the guest, and she realized with a start that it was her former classmate. It wasn’t hard to mistake him for someone else. After all, the sight of paleness with a tinge of arrogance was a brand made in — one might say heaven — hell.

“That’s Professor [Y/L/N] to you, Professor Malfoy; and I believe knocking would have made a better and respectful entrance.”

“I don’t believe the same thing.” He took swift strides towards the window opposite her desk, looking out the view outside before turning back to her, taking in the character of her office. “Care for a chocolate?”

“I’m not hungry,” she said. It’s true, though. She’d eaten too much that morning as an excuse not to look at anyone else in the table, most especially this . . . abomination right in front of her which proved to be ineffective. “I’m afraid now’s not a good time, I suggest you make an appointment with me instead of bursting into my office like this.”

“Why are you so formal?” He leaned on her desk, drumming his fingers on the edge.

“Careful! You’ll get scratches on my desk and the ink—!”

“Salty,” he commented, tossing a scrutinizing look her way. “Just imagine all the things we could do on this table.” She choked on her own saliva at this.

“I beg your pardon?” She knew what he was talking about, but she pretended not to remember anything at all.

“Oh, you will beg,” he joked, laughing.

“I’d rather we be professional in the workplace and set a good example for the students.”

“Now, why would you prefer that? You can’t tell me there’s nothing going on here. I mean, the tension!” He was joking, but she wasn’t sure if he was as he fiddled with his pockets. “Alright, then. But my offer stands as long as you drool.”

“I’m not drooling.” But she reached out to wipe her mouth, glad his back was to her.

“Sure you aren’t.” He then faced her and held out his hand, a little box tucked in his fingers. “Chocolate?”

“You sound like Professor Lupin.”

“Do I now? Well, I’d say I have a lot more suave.”

She stood up from her desk with an air of indifference as she set the ink and quill aside. “You don’t. Kindly make your leave now.”

“I’d rather I don’t.”

With a groan she could no longer suppress, she walked over to him and vigorously pushed him to her door. “And I’d rather you do.”

“Come on, Professor.” He was leaning on the doorway now with a mock pleading look.

“Let me think,” she said, biting her cheek and looking him up and down. He then took this as signal to straighten his shoulders. As she tried to stifle a laugh, she shoved him further out. “Get out.” With a triumphant grin, she swung the door shut.

She got back to the rich parchment right away; Ilvermorny had always been her dream ever since she heard of it.

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The following days were more than just confusing: Passing each other in hallways, Professor Malfoy trying to catch her eye; Professor Malfoy trying to pass a note (she never knew what was written in them, not that she wanted to); and subtle knowing looks in lunch. It had even gotten to the point where half the students knew already.

The problem with this is that she got loads of questions she did not want to answer at all.

“Excuse me, Professor [Y/L/N]?”

“Yes, dear? Are you having troubles with the incantation or the movement?”

“Are you snogging Professor Malfoy?” The class chuckled, but they all seemed to be curious.

“Heavens—! Five points from Godric.”

“Er — Professor?”

“I mean, Gryffindor! Merlin’s beard, that’s mighty brave of you to say that but kindly refrain from asking such . . . questionable inquiries and please stick to the topic. Now, moving on. . .”

In another room a few floors down, another student asked the same thing, only this time a different answer was given.

Professor Malfoy, who was more than willing to answer this, was just as more than glad for the opportunity: “Why, that’s a very graphic way to put it but no, I am not. I am, however, courting your Charms Professor. Get her to say yes for me, will you?”

“No words!” she said to him later that day in his office, her brows furrowed tight in anger. “No words.”

“That’s four words,” Professor Malfoy said after taking a bite out of a cracker. “So is it a yes?”

“Get out.”

He snorted. “This is my office.”

“Oh. Right, my bad, okay.”

“Unless you want to stay?” he suggested.

“I can’t and I don’t think so,” she said slowly as she backed away until she reached the door. “Have a good day, Professor.”

“Your wish is my command, Professor!” He called out loudly just as the door closed behind her, laughing at the sight of her.

The door swung open again. “Courting me?” she asked with a scowl.

“Mhm, do you want roses? I don’t really do those but I wouldn’t mind if you want me to bring you some during class.”

“Merlin’s ingrown toenail,” she exclaimed under her breath. She stood by the doorway this time, looking like how one would look if forced to eat a lemon directly. “Not even in a million years.”

“How about a hundred?”

“Not even in a week.”

This much was true — it took a few years, but more on that later.

“Then why did you come back?”

“Because I want to tell you right now that nothing will happen and I don’t want you to expect anything so it would really help if you stopped encouraging the students about . . . this.”

“One date says I can make you say yes until the thirty-first of June.”

“Goodnight, Professor,” she said, exasperated.

“June 2004,” he said, gambling.

She only lingers for a second longer in the doorway. “Stop encouraging the students.” And with a friendly smile, she left the door open as she walked away.

He didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse: There were suddenly flowers being brought by students she did not know, suggestive cheers whenever they passed each other in the hallways, and pretty much everything else in between.

The worst thing about it is that she isn’t sure if it’s truly the worst thing in the world, because if it isn’t, then that’s just bad. She stored these thoughts away as she pulled out her third drawer and brought out a tin box. Inside rested exquisite cream-colored envelopes, the texture satisfying to feel under her fingertips.

IV. The Follow-Up Letter [December 2002]

The holiday of their second year of teaching brought more anticipation on the Charms Professor than joy. [Y/N] leaned on the solid railing of the owlery’s stairs, a blue envelope in hand.

Should I send it? No, it’ll come when it comes. But then again—

“[Y/N]?”

A number of things happened in four seconds: One, the envelope flew away as she jumped at the sight of the unexpected guest that is the Potions Professor; two, “Draco! What—Accio Envelope!”; three, nothing but staring at each other bewildered; and four, an amused smile on Draco’s face.

“You said my name.”

“What are you doing here at this hour?” she asked him, tucking the envelope as she crossed her arms, all the while trying not to meet his eyes.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Professor, were you following me?”

“Back to calling each other Professor so soon when we just started going on a first-name basis a second ago?”

“Professor,” she said, stern.

“Professor,” he said, not so stern.

“Come with me,” she found herself saying. She wasn’t the only one surprised, for he remained silent the entire time they walked back to the castle. His surprise amped up when they stopped in front of her office, and he refused to admit he was nervous as well.

[Y/N] swung the door open, taking his hand and sat him down on the chair in front of her desk. Instead of sitting down in her chair, she walked towards the open window, the light of the night illuminating everything underneath it. She faced him.

“Look,” she started, and only when these words left her mouth did she realize she had no idea what she was going to say. “Draco,” she said again, trying to earn more time for herself, but only earning a giddy tug on Draco’s lips. “I like you,” she said exasperatedly.

His supposed smile falters, but laughs (mirthlessly) for the sake of keeping the conversation light. “If you’re confessing your love for me, that’s an awfully depressing way to put it.”

“Draco, I really like you.” It sounds like an apology. “But I can’t.”

He stood up from his chair, leaning on the edge of her desk again just like he did on their first year of teaching. “Why not? I mean, I said until this last school year, right?”

“You were serious?”

“Of course I was serious.”

[Y/N] moved over to where he was leaning on and does the same, and the both of them just stare at the window across the room. They don’t look at each other.

Silence.

“Why’d you want to become a Charms professor?”

“I’m good at it,” she said with a grin. Draco looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Huh, you don't look satisfied with my answer. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, none at all, of course. Just curious.”

“We’re at work.”

“Hence work-related conversations because you wouldn’t agree to go out with me.”

“Fair enough. Okay. Well, I originally considered Muggle Studies because it's just familiar and I'm Muggleborn, you know? But then there was Charms . . . And not to brag, but I was always exceptionally good at it and I like it because it makes things convenient, and I like it when things are convenient.”

“Mhm, I guess this is what they meant when they said that Charms professors are charming.”

“And I guess this is what they meant when they said that Potions professors are . . . I don't know how to finish that.”

“I think you mean to say that Potions professors put the chemistry in everything. Seriously, I'm carrying our relationship right now.”

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned.

“Wait, could you do me a favor and not tell Flitwick and Snape about this?”

“Can’t promise that. And it’s Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape.”

Draco finally faced her, but she kept her gaze straight and fixed on the window. There was nothing outside except clouds, and it was calming her enough to keep her hand steady as she reached out to grab the envelope tucked in her cloak, but she put it back quickly before he could see.

“No dating in the workplace, right?”

“Hence my June proposal.”

“I might not be here for 2004.”

“Why not?”

It was only five seconds, but it felt like forever as she felt the burn of the envelope in her cloak pocket. “Draco, I like you. In fact, I liked you until third year, you know.”

“Oh, I knew. You weren’t so discreet, you know.” The two laughed. “Why’d you stop?”

“Eh, well, you were kind of a dipshit so I figured, ‘might as well not’ and here we are now. If someone told twelve-year-old me I’d be here right now, she’d burst like confetti on the spot.”

She expected him to make a ridiculous retort or at least a comment picking fun on her, but he didn’t. Instead, he asked: “Then what’s stopping you now?”

“You only get three questions. Now you have two left. Anyway, well, here.” Hesitantly, she pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. A moment passed until his shoulders slumped. He didn’t look at her.

The contents of the envelope uncovered more than just her worries, for it revealed a fear he never knew he’d have. “You’re leaving Hogwarts to teach in . . . Beauxbatons?”

“You have one question left. It’s only a follow-up letter to check if I’m still on the waiting list.”

“Yeah, but you’d be moving to . . . where is it again? France! It’s just — I mean, why?”

“That’s all the questions you get.” He stiffened, and so she sighed. “I want to travel.”

“Yeah, but you could do that in the summer and this means leaving. Like, literally leaving the country.”

“I’m aware of that. It’s just that I don’t want to be tied down here. I want to see, like, the Louvre Museum or something.

“We have Riverside Museum here in Scotland and the British Museum in—.”

“Draco,” she warned. “See, this is what I meant. I’ve seen both of those already. I’ve been to a whole lot of places here and I want to see something else.”

“I see.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So you’ll stop whatever you’re trying to do now?”

Draco stood up and walked to the door, not speaking as he did so. He looked the doorway up and down and finally faced her, his hands on the doorknob. “June 2003 is still six months away.” And with a grin, he pulled the door shut.

It could be the alluring glow coming from the windows or the still presence of the castle itself standing on the lonely grounds, but he seemed lovelier to her today than he had ever been.

V. Carpe Diem [June-July 2003]

The last week of June couldn’t have arrived so quickly, and just like the students, she was busy packing her bags. This was possibly the last time she was seeing her office.

Her eyes fell on her desk again.

Would it be wrong if she said that the idea of them on the table wasn’t looking so bad anymore?

Gah! No! Shaking her head, she slammed her chest shut when to her surprise the doors swung open with the same unannounced guest from not so long ago.

“You scared me, Professor.”

“Quit it, school’s over. My name isn’t Professor, so Draco will do.” Laughing, he held out his arm to her. “What do you say? Go out with me?”

“I have to go, Draco.”

[Y/N] walked out of the office, bag in hand when he called out to her.

“You never said no.”

“What?”

“You never said no whenever I asked you. It was always ‘excuse me,’ ‘I gotta go,’ ‘good night,’ or some random excuse that still wasn’t the two letter word and that face you make when you’re actually turned on.”

“Wha — I am not turned on.”

“I’m kidding again.”

She walked over to him. “Then okay, let’s do it.”

“Do — what? Do what? The table thing? That was just a joke because of what you said, I don’t really—”

“No, you idiot. I’m saying I’m willing to go out with you until I get the results.”

“Oh! So we’re — you know?”

“Yeah, where do you wanna go first?”

It took her five steps to realize he was frozen in the same place he stood five steps ago. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just happy,” he answered.

“Wipe it off your face, it looks weird on you.”

“This smile’s staying until the end of time, princess.”

When he caught up with her and they were walking alongside each other, not only did she see a smile but also the glint in his eyes brighter than ever. She still worried about how this was going to end, but it’s only the now, and there’s nothing else that could ruin that.

“Yeah, ground rules: Never call me that again.”

“Why not, princess?”

“Stop testing my patience, Professor.”

“Aw, no! Go back to first-name basis.”

She halted, and so did he. “Wait, I just wanted to make it clear that we can only do this until the end of July, okay?”

He paused, looking at her.

“Draco? Okay?”

“Done deal,” said Draco, and so they walked off.

When they made it to the train, whoops and cheers greeted them. The same kid from Gryffindor held up two thumbs up, and clapping along as they walked past.

They got into a compartment at the end of the train, the two giddy and nervous for what was to come. Their luggage were stashed above them, and it was only the two of them sitting across from each other, sharing knowing looks of excitement.

“You sure you don’t want to do the table thing?” she joked, smiling. The train began to move.

“Eh, I’ll catch feelings.”

“I thought you caught those already.”

“No, I mean I’ll catch them thrice as hard.”

“You know what they say: What’s thrice more, right?”

And they spent the entire ride laughing, reveling in the other’s presence.

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“Remember, no magic. We can’t risk it,” she said, her hands tucked into her pockets as they walked down the park where a number of other couples walked, some with dogs and some with children and some with just their hearts on their sleeves.

“Well, as it turns out, you are magic. Who knew Professor [Y/L/N] was such a rule breaker?”

She punched his shoulder lightly. “Draco Malfoy, you are the corniest rodent on Earth.”

“Just Earth?”

“Universe, then. Hey, what do you say we go laser tagging?”

“That’s so romantic of you to say, a million times yes!”

On the first week of July, the new couple spent countless times holding hands, walking around, laughing at people they meet who have phony laughs, and everything else normal couples do.

It was perfect, being in love. Everything is beautiful, but more so when you’re in love. Heck, even the pigeon shitting on that little kid’s head is beautiful. It’s like someone picked you up and brought you high above the skies and took you to many places you only used to dream of seeing.

They spent time in her apartment, and she made s’mores for the two of them one night. “D’you want music?” she asked him.

“Yeah, sure.”

She came back to the room with a boombox in hand. “I forgot what tape we put in there but first song that plays will be — forgive me if this is cheesy — our song.”

The intro to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You started playing, and she danced along to the beat.

You're just too good to be true. . .

Can't take my eyes off of you. . .

You'd be like Heaven to touch. . .

“Hey, that’s an old song.”

“I know,” she said, holding out her hand. He took it without any hesitation, and they danced along with laughter in the air every time one failed to follow through with the steps. They were singing along off-key when the song stopped and a different one played.

“It must be because I kinda . . . tried to enchant it a while back — hold on, let me just fix it,” she said, letting go and walking over to the boombox.

You give your hand to me. . .

“No, don’t worry, it’s a good song.”

“Yeah, a sad one. You sure?”

And then you say hello. . .

“Mhm, You Don’t Know Me’s a nice song to dance to despite its depressing lyrics.”

And I can hardly speak. . .

“Cindy Walker and Eddy Arnold are geniuses. This one’s written by Cindy. She sang it too but this one playing right now’s by Eddy, but there are a lot of artists who sang it too. Like Elvis.”

My heart is beating so. . .

“Yeah, yeah, shut up and just keep dancing,” said Draco with a laugh.

And anyone could tell. . .

From a distance, Big Ben sang a loud chime, giving its telltale sign that it was a new hour. But the two people in a tiny apartment among countless other lit windows did not mind, for they were only one more lover in the world for yet another hour, giving as much love they could give.

You think you know me well. . .

Her hand’s rested on his shoulders, and they’re dancing along. Just like songs are sung by various artists, love is given by various people; it’s as if it’s the same thing over and over again, but it’s not — there’s always a note different, a kiss astray, it’s unique because it’s your love and your love alone.

But you don't know me. . .

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“Shoot that ratty bastard!” she yelled, pointing at the kid in a neon orange shirt, a yellow laser tag gun in hand. He’d never seen her like this before, but this didn’t make him any less keen on loving her. If anything, he was more so in love than before. She faced him, face scrunched up in impatience. “What on Merlin’s rotten earwax are you waiting for?! Go!”

With a smile he’d never done before, he raised his gun to the kid and got him out of the game. [Y/N] cheered right next to him and he couldn’t help but laugh. “This is very brutal of us, you know.”

“Yeah, so we’re twenty-three and we like winning over kids, so what?” she said exasperatedly, laughing.

“This is not a good look on you,” he said in between laughs.

“What? So I’ve been told. Give me a bre— Oh, hell no. Avenge me! Get that kid!”

But the young player got him too anyway, and when they got out of the laser tag place, they went ahead to get some ice cream. “What day is it today?”

“July eighteen.”

“Phew! Just ten more days to go,” said [Y/N] before eating the last of her cone. “Almost there,” she mused excitedly as they walked away to go and fall in line for the rides.

Draco watched the cracked pavement beneath his feet move as they walked, only one thought in his head: Just ten more days to go. Almost there.

He looked back up to her, just thinking of all the things that could happen. What if she got in? What then? What if she didn’t?

The line for the Ferris Wheel in front of them was extremely long, and so he told her he’d be right back to get them both some cotton candy for the ride.

She reckoned he must’ve been gone for a long time, for when he came back, they were third in line. Safe to say that it was worth it, because when you’re way up in the sky, you’d like to eat clouds while you’re at it.

VI. What’s Become of It [July 2003]

Draco could only hear the song playing over and over in his head at the sight of her staring out of his hotel room’s balcony. It’s the twenty-eighth of July already, and his arms are crossed tight as he tried to keep himself steady. He walked over to where she was sitting and sat down right next to her.

“Nervous?” he asked her.

“Very, but also giddy.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

[Y/N] turned to him and raised a brow in question, but he only shook his head in response, ‘it’s nothing.’

But it isn’t.

She stood up from her seat to lean on the railing, still waiting for an owl to swoop in. Draco, on the other hand, was still in his seat, looking up at her.

I could do this everyday, he thought to himself. I could look at your face and listen to your voice and hear your snores and never be tired of it.

“Hey,” he called out, and so she then turned around to him with a smile. “Do you ever think of the future?”

“What’s this sudden mushiness, hm? It looks weird on you,” she said with a laugh.

“I know,” said Draco. “But do you?”

She leaned her elbows on the balcony railing. “Eh, well, it’s hard not to. I mean, Beauxbatons! It’s so much different from what I’m used to but I think I’ll ma—”

“No, no, I mean this. I mean us. What, we’ll just be strangers after this?”

Silence. Not completely silence, because the city was bustling like a newly built toy train; more like silence in the sense that it was hard to tell what to say in this situation that their words were stuck in their lungs, and it was hard to breathe what with everything that’s happened and everything that is yet to happen.

“Let’s go inside,” she said with a sigh.

As soon as they closed the door, true silence fell upon them, and it was only the sound of the pizza from last night being reheated in the microwave that could be heard.

“Why are you asking this right now?” she finally said as she rested her hands on her hips.

“What, I can’t ask questions now?”

“Draco, I’m getting the results today, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m just asking where you see this going.”

“Where I see this going? I think I recall me telling you right from the start that this ends here, right?”

“Yes, I remember that too, but what if you didn’t get it?”

“What?”

“No—just—what if?”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “There’s no such thing and even if there was, there’s still another one.”

“What do you mean there’s—”

An owl appeared just by the window, and so she had to turn away and open the door to the balcony, from which by there the owl came in, a letter in hand.

Only when the letter was on her hand did she feel a certain kind of burning in her fingertips, wanting to tear it open as wildly as she could. Her eyes went back and forth from the letter and to Draco, who was now eyeing her while holding his breath.

“Moment of truth,” she breathed.

And she opened the envelope. The anticipation grew wider and wider and tighter and tighter and deeper and deeper as she tore it open and pulled out the letter. She unfolded it with a look of both determination and fear, but never hesitation.

Her shoulders slumped. Draco took in a shaky breath. “What does it say?”

“I didn’t get in.” [Y/N] was spiraling. She turned her back to him and ran her hand down her face in disappointment.

“We are sorry to inform you. . .”

She went out to the balcony, looking out the vast landscape as a million thoughts ran through her head, unaware of the man behind her down on one knee with a ring in his hand, looking up at her with hopeful eyes. The wind drew goosebumps on her neck.

When she turned around, her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. What do you say in a situation like this? Is it bad that she wants to say yes?

[Y/N] opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke first, the ring still held up to her.

“Wait, no, hear me out. Marry me. I know it wasn’t as flawless as we thought it would be but you could stay here. You could be a tutor to younger students for when they’re homeschooling! Let me talk first. We’ll talk more about this later and figure it out but you could also just stay at home or come with me to Hogwarts. See? As long as we’re together.”

“You’re making me not work?”

“It could be the other way around, if you want. Just someone to stay at home with the kids and—”

“Kids? Marriage? Draco, that’s not in your plan — that’s not in any of your plans! You don’t want any of those!”

“I’m willing to want all of those for you because all my plans are for you.”

“What about me?” she said breathlessly.

“What do you mean? You are the damned plan! Just please consider it; we could get married right now, it doesn’t have to be grand, let’s just go to city hall and get married.”

“Draco, please don’t do this to me.” She wiped the tears from her face, and he suddenly wished he could vanish. Actually, he could Apparate to somewhere far away, but he didn’t.

“Will you marry me?” he asked again. “Please?”

She was about to open her mouth to speak when another owl stood on the balcony railing, a cream envelope tied to its foot. Time felt like it stretched longer than it should have.

[Y/N] turned away from him, not meeting his eyes as she untied the letter from the owl’s foot. She expected it to leave just like the first one did, but it didn’t. Instead of flying away, it just sat there, watching them.

Draco’s leg was hurting now, but he remained still as he watched her open the envelope. The silence was too loud again.

He watched her with wonder as she read the contents of the letter until she let her hand fall along with the envelope. It almost flew away but she caught it just right before it slipped from her fingers.

She gulped. “I got in to Ilvermorny.”

Draco dropped the ring box, and his heart along with it. His eyes went to the owl, which he realized just now was probably waiting for her to write to the school in answer to the acceptance letter she’d just received.

“Wow, you must be so desperate to get out of here, aren’t you?”

“Draco, what the fuck are you doing with the most beautiful engagement ring I’ve ever seen? I— just— I thought we had an agreement! Just — Why?”

“Because I love you and I want to be with you, is that so much to ask for? Don’t you love me back? Is everything we’ve been through just nothing to you?”

“I do! I do love you!” She was crying now, and it was hard to speak and try to keep yourself together at a time like this. “But I can’t marry you.”

“Why not? If you love me, why can’t you choose me?”

“If you love me, why are you making me choose?” she said, and came the day of the longest time she cried. “It’s been my dream to travel, Draco. Do you want me to stop for you?”

“We could just Apparate there right now if you want to. Or if you really want to leave we could make long distance work, too! We could write letters, use a—”

“That’s not how it works and you know it. My answer right now is a solid no. There.”

“But didn’t you love Hogwarts? Remember? You were so mesmerized and just — if not me, does Hogwarts not mean enough for you to stay?”

“Draco, please.”

He raked his hand through his hair, unsure of what to feel. “You know, I used to think that I didn’t deserve you, but now I’ve realized that you don’t deserve me,” he scoffed. “After all, Professor [Y/L/N] just loves it when things are convenient, right?”

“You— What, you were doing all this in hopes that I’d stay knowing right from the damn start that I was set on leaving?” She gulped, not wanting to believe what was happening right now. “This is stupid. Were you trying to get me to stay?”

“Is it too much to ask for?”

She scoffed as she wiped a tear away from her eyes, her face red. “Goodbye, Draco.”

And she left the room without another word. The floor seemed to be moving under his feet. The world did in fact move; it kept moving even when his heart broke, it kept moving even when a random kid was sentenced to detention, it just kept moving because the world does not stop for heartbreaks and mischiefs.

The microwave dinged just like it should have, and so he stood up to prepare the pizza, later on eating it on his own while staring at the lonely ring box on the floor.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

There he was on the thirty-first of July, overstaying in his hotel room, lying flat on the wide and empty bed, staring at the smooth ceiling.

But then he found himself on his feet, grabbing the ring box and stuffing the ring itself into his pocket.

He looked and looked until he found a place to buy one of those tasty ring pops.

As he made his way up the stairs of a building he’d been on a lot of times for the past month, a candy ring in hand. A thought occurred to him days prior to today: you can waste your time or love what’s become of it and make it count.

. . .No, you don't know the one. . .

He knocked on the door and kneeled again, this time a candy ring in the ring box, replacing the ring he’d bought the day they went to the theme park.

Who dreams of you at night. . .

The door swung open. She stood with one glow missing, but she was her nonetheless, and that’s all that matters.

And longs to kiss your lips. . .

“Wait! I’m not gonna ask you to marry me, don’t worry,” he said just when she was about to open her mouth. ��Will you spend your remaining time with me?”

And longs to hold you tight. . .

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said with the brightest smile she’d ever had, and he stood up to pull her into his arms.

To you, I'm just a friend. . .

And they spent the day just like they did for the past month — laughing and loving, no trace of what had happened just a few days ago. They’ve wasted so much time already, they couldn’t afford to lose any more.

That's all I've ever been. . .

“I’m sorry for all I said back there,” he whispered to her neck as they watched a woman walk her dog across from their bench. He was resting on her shoulder, playing with her fingers.

“I’m sorry, too. I love you, it’s just that I love myself more right now.”

He nodded, and so he went back to humming and swaying lightly along to the song in his head.

But you don't know me. . .

She only laughed as she kissed his forehead. “That dog’s about to shit, be quiet.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” he joked.

“Come on, give me a break.”

For I never knew the art of making love. . .

They went to the beach, walking along the sand just right where the sea could just reach them. The sun was setting so soon just like their love, for she was set to leave later that night.

Though my heart aches with love for you. . .

The two sat on the sand, paying no mind to the sand getting everywhere. They watched the waves crash upon each other elegantly.

“You know, if ever I did say yes, I wouldn’t want to do it in city hall.”

“Yeah?”

Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by. . .

“Mhm, but it doesn’t have to be big, either. I just want my friends to be there.”

“We could have that.”

“We’ve been over this,” she said with a dismissing laugh.

The chance you might have loved me too. . .

“But —”

“Sh. . . Just listen to the waves.” He did.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

When they returned to her apartment, she immediately brought him up to the roof, telling him to stay there while she went back down to get the same boombox from weeks ago.

“I’m back!” she announced as she put the boombox down on the floor. Draco was leaning on one of the railings of the terrace, and he resisted the urge to make a comment on what she just said and so he resorted to just smiling back at her.

After turning it on, she moved over to him, leaning on the railing just like he did as the song continued to play. “We could actually see the Big Ben from here. A bit far, but we still can. Over there. See?”

“Yeah, I see it.”

“So,” she started, “I’ll be leaving soon. Any last words for me, Professor?”

“Put on your candy ring and dance with me, princess.” He opened the ring box and unwrapped the ring, the two of them laughing as he put on the ring on her finger.

They danced slowly, laughing at the other’s laugh and so on and so forth. She brought her hand up to his cheek, caressing it gingerly as she could.

Draco laughed. “You’re getting candy all over my face.”

“Good, something to remember me by,” she teased. She didn’t bring her hand down, no. “Wait, I want to lick my ring.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” he said, grinning as she proceeded to suck on the fake diamond ring, the two of them giggling.

“Oh, it’s grape flavored, nice touch.”

“You could keep the diamond one if you want to,” he said, only to get elbowed lightly by her. They chuckled.

He didn’t mind that her hand was getting his own hand sticky or the fact that the candy was getting a bit of stain on his clothes. He only watched her, refusing to take his eyes off her, taking in what he could before he lost her for real. “[Y/N]?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want us to part with two bad memories. When you leave, I want to just remember this moment and the best month of my life. I can’t really just forget what happened a few days ago — actually I can because memory charms but you get what I mean — but I don’t think I want the memory of seeing you walk out that door and leaving.”

She paused, looking at him curiously. Big Ben sang a loud chime again, and he turned away to take a good look at the tall and distant tower. It was time.

“You don’t have to,” she said.

He looked back to her. “What?”

[Y/N] let go of him and stopped dancing. She cupped his face before kissing his forehead. She turned up the music louder so he wouldn’t hear her Apparating.

. . .You give your hand to me. . .

“Pick a number,” she told him with a grin.

“Alright, uh, any? Okay, seven.”

“Okay, close your eyes and count to seven.”

And then you say goodbye. . .

He obeyed and closed his eyes. “One.”

[Y/N] watched him, taking in the last she’d ever see of him as the song continued to play. “Two.”

I watch you walk away. . .

She walked over to the door, lingering as she watched the most adorable face she’d ever laid her eyes on. She thinks back to their third year together. “Three.”

Beside the lucky guy. . .

If she’d just made the effort of talking to him, maybe they would’ve had a longer time together. “Four.”

To never, never know. . .

She took a step backward, looking back at him once more. She’s thankful he picked a longer number, glad for the extra time she had to look at him one last time even just for a few more seconds. “Five.”

The one who loves you so. . .

Maybe if she’d given in earlier, there would’ve been much more memories, more moments to laugh about today. “Six.”

No, you don't know me. . .

A moment’s hesitation. As she watched his mouth twitch, she realized she wouldn’t have it any other way. And with one last look, she disappeared just as he opened his eyes.

“Seven.” He stood there, neck and clothes sticky from the candy, the real ring stuffed in his pocket. He ran his fingers through his hair.

He let a deep breath. “You can come out now,” he said jokingly, a tinge of torment in his tone. It’s hopeless, for she’d long gone. The only thing he could do was go back to the railing, staring at the small figure from the distance that is the Big Ben. “I should’ve picked the number three for leverage. Good luck, [Y/N].”

And he picked up the boombox still playing the song and walked out of there with a forlorn smile.

EPILOGUE: Another Time [June 2005]

Most of the time we meet people we don't know would be the very cause of getting to that something big in our lives: In a dark office sits a man in his mid-twenties, fidgeting with his creaking desk drawer, glancing at the velvet box resting innocently in the corner of it.

The man pulls it out completely until it halted just shy of falling off the desk itself and he only eyes it with what one could only assume is contempt, possibly for time being the only thing in the way — time, the most bitter thing of all.

He refuses to go so far as touch it, and so he pushes the drawer back. He stands up from his chair and walks over to his last class for the year.

He bids his students farewells for the holidays, and he goes off to pack his stuff, during which he finds himself contemplating whether or not to bring the ring he still keeps around in his desk.

Should I bring it? he asks himself for the umpteenth time that day. If I do, I'll throw it on the train ride home.

Somewhere in a peeling chair of a booth beside the window of a busy diner three thousand miles away, however, rests a young woman of the same age making herself comfortable as she takes off her coat while waiting for her pancakes. Her chin's on her palm, and she's desperate to find a place to stay for the summer. At the far end of the diner beside the lone booth stands a faulty jukebox and a young couple probably in their teenage years, two of whom are dancing along to a song she's heard before.

“You're just too good to be true,” sings the teenage girl.

“Can't take my eyes off you,” the boy sings back in reply, seemingly hesitant but in love (and foolish) enough to do so anyway. The two then starts to dance to the jolly instrumental.

Sighing, the woman leaves without another word, paying no mind to the pancakes she'd just ordered and forgetting the coat she'd just left in her seat where a plastic ring hid in one of the pockets.

On her way out, she began to hear a different song from the thrift store across the street from the diner.

. . .And anyone can tell. . .

Different singer, same song. She walked over to the store.

You think you know me well. . .

Strangely enough, it’s a lovely new version. After all, 2005 could use a different stroke of color. In this case, it’s Michael Buble singing a song that held a special place in her heart. With a smile, she went on her way.

But you don't know me. . .

Fate has to be one of the funniest thing ever, because however brutal it may be, it always finds a way to make every tear one has shed worth it. A fair example for this would be the coat with a plastic ring hidden in one of its pockets she unknowingly left in the diner, and the long string of events that follows that gets it three thousand miles away to London and into the hands of the very person who gave the candy ring.

Who’s this said person? Only the very man who’s debating on whether or not to bring a diamond ring he’d bought years before. Update on him: He left it there again.

Why? Because he’s saving it for another time, which is hopefully soon.

Whenever that is.

Draco Malfoy Taglist: @mauvea @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @gwlvr @marrymetheonott @sexysirius @the-moon-and-starss @turn-to-page-394-please @henqtic @badass-yn @gaycatlord-stuff @crazy-beautiful @dlmmdl @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @mjoubertt-1 @dreamy-clousds

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

Text

All Things Sweet

—•°. ANON: a draco x reader where draco and reader come back from a trip to hogsmeade, their bags and pockets full of all kinds of candy from honeydukes? then they try them all out and just laugh and have a good time? thx!

PAIRING: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Young love and candy — the perfect combination to all things sweet.

WORDS: 2.0k

WARNING: not proofread + just fluff but let me know if there are any!

A/N: BABE I LOVE THIS IDEA JDNRJEKAKA!!! btw think of this as a sort of prequel to Nuggets With Gravy hehe I just thought it was fitting <3

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

“What, you’ve never been to Honeydukes?” Draco scoffed in disbelief as he put on his scarf around his neck. “What kind of person hasn’t been to Honeydukes?”

“This person,” you said, pointing at herself. “Who also happens to be your favorite one anyway.”

“I’d argue but you got that one right.” Laughing, he took your hand and led you outside where the other students were falling in line, glad his scarf obscured his ridiculously brilliant smile.

“Oh, I did?”

“Very much so.” With that, the two of you made your way through the crowd, finally falling in line. There were a cluster of third years at the front, eager to visit Hogsmeade for the first time.

Back when you did not hold hands yet, when you were only what one may call friends, you’d find the long line ever so irritating. However, each other’s company was more than enough to keep you two at bay: Draco drew circles with his thumb on the back of your hand as you told a silly story about a stupid birthday present you received and whatnot. . . He always listened (more like watched you with every bit of love he could show).

“You know, we could just go to the Three Broomsticks,” you said, laughing nervously as soon as you set foot on the train. “Just get a couple of butterbeers and stuff.”

“What’s with you and Honeydukes?”

“What — nothing!” you said as you laughed uncharacteristically loud. “What do you mean? I mean, like, we’ll get to eat more in the Three Broomsticks and —”

“Come on, something’s up. What’s the deal with you and candy?”

“I told you, nothing!” you exclaimed. Draco raised a brow, a teasing grin on his face. “Okay, fine, a chocolate frog leapt at my face on my first train ride to Hogwarts. Happy?”

“Wow,” said Draco, turning away and burying himself into his scarf in an attempt to stifle a laugh. It was your turn to raise a brow. “Just — wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said briefly as he cleared his throat. The image of you jumping from your seat with a chocolate frog on your face was pretty much an interesting picture. Draco had to breathe through his mouth.

“What?” You reached out to pull down his scarf. Draco bat your hand away, now laughing. It was indeed irritating, but as much as you hated to admit, his laugh was therapeutic.

“I—guess—you—found—Trevor,” he blurted out between wheezing breaths. “You should’ve went ahead to Longbottom, then.”

“Oh, shut up. In my defense, it was my first time and I was alone in the wretched compartment. I just wanted some sweets but it had to be tragic, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, when we get to Hogsmeade, I’ll protect you from jumping chocolates,” assured Draco.

When you finally made it inside Hogsmeade, you couldn’t help but admire the colorful and vibrant aura of the shop itself. How come you’ve never been here before? It’s perfect! You ran your hands across the tall glass jars of assorted candy and chocolate, oblivious to the fact that Draco stood from a distance — far enough for you not to see him but close enough for him to admire you.

You grab a pack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, searching the crowd for Draco. He continued to stare, unblinking. You squinted your eye in search for him among the crowd until it finally landed on him. You held it up to him, a bright smile on your face. “Like in the train,” you mouthed to him.

He nodded in answer, grinning from cheek to cheek. He instantly knew his cheeks would hurt once you lot returned to Hogwarts. He was holding a number of Cockroach Clusters and Fizzing Whizzbees.

You gestured for him to come your way. He did. “Look, they’ve got quill candy!”

“They’re called Sugar Quills. You eat them during class while you pretend you’re thinking.”

You chuckled as you pointed to another row. “You can even eat this wand! You know, Mr. Garrick Ollivander has to up his game these days,” you joked.

“They’re called Liquorice Wands.”

“Oh, and this one! Look! Mouse candy I think?”

“Ice Mice, love, read the label.” He rarely got to see you interested in things like candy, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your own curious gaze as you marveled at the assortment of various sweets in front of you and all around you. The tall glass dispensers were simply appetizing, and there was no denying that you wanted to just swim in it. Of course, that’s a ridiculous thought. Sparing one excited smile in Draco’s direction, you showed him one piece of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum. “C’mon.”

“Where are your other candies?” Draco shook his wrist off your grip with a scrunched up look on his face. He made to peek in your pockets, only to find it flat and empty. He frowned.

“Hm?”

“Your other sweets! You can’t just be taking that bubble gum. At least get some Sugar Quills or Acid Pops.” Draco gestured at the rows and rows of different boxes.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled. “It’s okay, I’m not hungry.”

“That’s ridiculous. That’s just two sickles,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“Don’t want to spend too much, it’s alright! Let’s just get hot choco —”

But Draco had already led you to another row you haven’t visited yet. He pointed at a line of blue packages to your left. “Peppermint Toads; not as aggressive as Chocolate Frogs. Tastes alright, but you’d be missing out on collecting the cards.” He then put his hands on your shoulders, turning you to another direction and pointing to your right. Fizzing Whizzbees; I’d like to be there to witness you eat it — don’t ask. I’m paying. Go get some.”

You didn’t move. Draco took two packs of Peppermint Toads and shoved it on to your chest, walking ahead and picking up two packs of Fizzing Whizzbees. Soon, he guided you to another shelf where boxes of candies sat. He held it up to your view. “Salt Water Taffy, I think it’s nice. Let’s get one.”

When you reached another shelf, he nodded to himself apprehensively as he raised a orangey red box to your view. “This one’s so you, though. I think you’d like it. Let’s take two.”

“Stop taking doubles,” you whispered, nervous at how much he’s spending. “That’s alright now, let’s go.”

“Didn’t you say you liked the Liquorice Wands?”

It took you a while to realize how much it cost. “No, when?”

“Just earlier before I took you on a tour around the shop,” said Draco. He was now looking at you curiously with narrowed eyes.

“No I didn’t. They look like the jerky my dog eats anyway. Let’s go now.”

“Ha! I know that face!” he bellowed, grinning in triumph.

“What face?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but you make this weird little” — Draco scrunched his nose for a split second before turning back to you — “rabbit nose twitch when you’re guilty.”

“Since when?”

“Since ever. How do you think I found out you fancied me?”

“Hey, you liked me first!”

“That’s true, exactly why I am taking two of these but in the Deluxe edition.” He reached out and flaunted the two new additions to your collection. Before you could even argue or utter a single word, the two of you were both out already, your bags stuffed with numerous candies.

You both decided not to take the train at all. It was a bearable cold weather, and he liked seeing snow land on your [Y/H/C] hair like you were some high priestess of sorts. He reached out to dust some away.

“We could still go to the Three Broomsticks, you know.”

“I know, but there are too many people there. Let’s go back so we could try some of these out before they all get back.” Draco adjusted your scarf as you continue to walk. “And besides, I like seeing the jealous looks on the faces of the little first and second years.”

You elbowed him. “Ow! What?”

“I told you to stop bullying the first years. Tsk, tsk.”

“It’s not bullying per se; technically I’d just be a random person who just so happens to be holding a lot — a lot lot — of candy in front of kids.”

“Oh, grow up.”

“We could eat some of the salt water taffy while walking,” Draco suggested later on. “Or the Fudge Flies.”

“Why do they always pick disgusting animals? I mean, cockroach cluster? How’s that appetizing?”

“See, I thought so as well. But surprisingly? It actually tastes good.”

A few minutes later, you both finally made it back to the castle. Draco was right — all the younger years were looking at you (or your pockets and what you were holding) mournfully as you walked past. You hated to admit that it was indeed a pleasure to have kids jealous.

He brought you to his dorm, where you two can finally retire from the constant staring from the kids. It grew old quickly, but it was fun nonetheless. Draco dumped his collection of packaged candies as you did so too. “Which ones have you tried?” he asked.

“The many flavored one.”

“Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, love.”

“Right. I’ll play it safe and try that one first.”

“How’s that playing safe? You clearly haven’t gotten a bad flavor yet.”

“Yes, I have — spinach!”

“That’s not as bad as you think it is. Wait till you try ear wax.”

“There’s ear wax in here?” you said, wrinkling your nose at the prospect of getting that particular flavor. “I just had some from a friend and I mostly just got marshmallow and cranberry.”

“Lucky,” said Draco. “I got envelope glue once.”

“Ew,” you said as you threw your head back in laughter. “Serves you right.”

As you plopped down to his bed, you realized you hadn’t emptied your pockets yet, and the bulk on his own pockets told you he hadn’t, either. You dug your hands into your pockets and came out with a handful of sweets and dumped it on the bed. “Okay, this is a lot.”

Draco did the same. It looked like a colorful mountain of marshmallows. “Hah, Willy Wonka called, he said you’re wanted in the factory,” you said, wiggling your finger in front of him.

“Who’s Willy Wonka? Is he from the Ministry?”

“What — no! Agh, you are impossible, Malfoy.”

“I prefer ‘love,’ but Malfoy will do for now. Anyway, you wanna try the Sugar Quills?”

“Naw, I’ll be using that for History of Magic. I’ll be doing a lot of thinking there.”

“Merlin’s beard, this is a lot. If I end up with diabetes tell my grandfather we’re more alike than he thinks.”

Draco almost choked on his own jelly slugs as both of you launched into fits of laughter. You reached out to grab an acid pop. “Thank you for this — these, I mean.”

“I’d pat your hair but it might get stocky from my hands. Just move closer so I can kiss your forehead.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you said. The smile on his face faltered, and you tried not to laugh. You stood up and walked over to him to press a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll try the Fizzing Whizzbees later after I finish these Pepper Imps.”

“Maybe you could . . . take me to one of your candy shops?”

“I don’t have one,” you said in between chewing a piece of a candy.

“I mean, Muggle candy shops or something.”

“You mean you want to come with me this summer?”

“I guess why not? I mean, doesn’t really have to be this summer, but why not?”

“Yeah, okay, why not?” You reached out to play with his hair, but he practically jumped out before you even could.

“You’re gonna dirty my hair!”

“‘You’re gonna dirty my hair!’” you mockingly said, laughing. “Don’t worry, I’ll treat you to cotton candy once I get my driver’s license. I’ll even bring you to a drive-thru.”

“Drive-thru?”

“Mhm, just you wait. For now, just have some Acid Pops and burn your tongue.”

“Oh, shut up before I open those boxes of Chocolate Frogs all at once.”

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#harry potter #hogwarts #harry potter masterlist #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco x fem!reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x fem!reader fluff #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco malfoy x fem reader #draco malfoy x fem reader fluff #ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy #draco fluff

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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No Longer

Anon: "out of all the lies I heard, I love you was my favourite" Idk if this works but well yeah...

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary: Moving on from Draco.

Words: 0.6k (610)

A/N: was honestly debating whether or not i should post this because it’s short and i wrote it when i woke up all musty and stuff hAHAHAHAHA hdmdjiwak it’s based on…something tho hehe

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I used to wait for you to come out from your classes when the professor lets us out earlier than we should. You were ever the charmer, wearing your Slytherin cloak proudly. Even with slumped shoulders and a pitiful posture, you never failed to make me stand straighter whenever you walk by.

“Sure, I dare you to buy me candy,” I told you one time when we finally started talking. I’d been surprised you responded back, for you used to never look my way even when I do something stupid.

Imagine my surprise when you handed me a bag full of candies and chocolates from Honeydukes filled with all my favorite flavors and sweets inside. My friends surrounded me that day, asking me for some and teasing me because you had never done this for anyone before.

I remember you letting me run my fingers through your hair, as I let yours through mine.

But even as you woke up earlier to walk with me around the hallways in the morning, let me know your fears, let you call me a name only you can use, let you watch me cry, I should’ve known.

Should have known that I didn’t mean much to you as you meant to me. Should have known I was only a spur of the moment decision you’d only consider a fleeting part of your past once we’ve put everything behind us.

I remember when you first said you loved me. And being the trickster that you were, you said it as if you meant it. You’ve lied to me about a lot of stuff but out of all the lies I heard, ‘I love you’ was my favorite. Mainly because it was what I’ve always wanted to hear especially from you, but it’s funny how ironic it is when you realize it’s not as beautiful as they said it would be.

We ended so fast. I heard that you had started to take a liking in someone else, and I was daft enough to not believe it just as I was daft enough to let anything become of us in the first place.

I thought I was so weak letting you sweep me off my feet with something so practical as chocolate.

Now, I’m proud to say that I no longer wait to spot the blur of blond hair walking down the hallway after class, no longer dream of you, no longer wait for someone to say your name and call you in hopes you were nearby to see me, no longer hope your name pops up in a conversation.

No, I thought all these to myself as you entered and came into view while I sipped a cup of hot chocolate in the Three Broomsticks. I’ll never make that mistake again.

See, the difference between myself in this present time and myself from back when I was hung up over you is that I would have looked for any opportunity for you to come into my life. I’d have looked away and waited for you to find me sitting all alone and pretty with my hot chocolate, justifying my intentions as a way of being friendly and making amends.

But now as you looked around the room, I hastily threw my bag and my scarf on the chair across from me. I have no time for people whose intentions do not matter on the long run.

You saw me.

And honestly? I’m not ashamed. I took one last gulp and set my cup down and picked up my stuff as fast as I could, walking past you on my way out.

Never again.

Taglist: @sfdlm @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @gwlvr @marrymetheonott @sexysirius @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @turn-to-page-394-please @henqtic @badass-yn @gaycatlord-stuff @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

#ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #dlm #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x gn!reader #draco x reader angst #harry potter #hpu #potterverse #harry potter imagines

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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[Navigation] [Masterlist]

Anon: An anonymous angst prompt - So you know the song good 4 u by olivia rodrigo. Basically Draco Malfoy cheats on the reader, but she kind of expected it so she isn't crying or anything and he lashes out at her with some of the lyrics from Good 4 u making people think she was the one who cheated.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: A wedding card from a certain someone takes him back to when he was so sure he’d be the bride’s groom.

Words: 8.4k (8486)

Warnings: not proofread, angst, cursing, arguments, cheating, mentions of sexual activities, gaslighting, doubts, threats, cursing, mention of the m-word + let me know if i missed something!

NO VOLDY

PART ONE | 3.2k words

Draco receives a Save the Date card from an ex, taking him back to the break-up that led up to that moment.

PART TWO | 3.2k words

He remembers how an outburst and an attempt to reconcile from years back went awry. He finally finds out why she cut things off with him.

PART THREE | 2.0k words

The story comes to an end, removing the blur between the past and present as they bid their goodbyes.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem!gryffindor!reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader angst #draco malfoy x fem reader #draco lucius malfoy #ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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[Navigation] [Masterlist]

GOOD FOR ME NAVIGATION

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: Draco receives a Save the Date card from an ex, taking him back to the break-up that led up to that moment. » This is Part One.

Words: 3.2k (3260)

Warnings: not proofread, angst, cursing, arguments, cheating, mentions of sexual activities, gaslighting, doubts, threats, cursing + let me know if i missed something!

A/N: so, uh, i’m trying not to use time tags by telling the story in a continuous narrative anxbejsi + NO VOLDY

It was nearing lunch when a snowy owl swooped in from Draco’s window with an envelope tied to its leg. Must be from the Ministry, he thought. He’d been so deep into work lately that the piano remained untouched, dust turning it into its own shelter. In the span of what he can only assume was a long time, countless files and folders piled up on top of it. He kept telling himself he’ll get to it once he gets this and that done, but he never did. He shut the door and went back to the owl to untie the envelope.

Draco thought the owl would wait for him to finish reading the letter and write something back, but it did not – for it simply turned away to fly away once more. It was probably seven or eight years old now, he could tell from the way its feathers danced with the wind and how it always dropped once it left his window.

Shrugging the thought away, he turned his focus back to the letter in his hands. More work, then. Best just get it over with.

When he ripped it open, however, an appealing card greeted him instead — the two people in the picture were laughing, smiling at each other with heads thrown back. He only knew the woman in the picture. It wasn’t hard to determine who she was, for that smile itself gave it away.

Save the date, the card said. He turned the card around and saw something scribbled in a smaller font that said invitations were to follow. Flipping it back to look at the front of the card, he read the stated date over and over.

It was going to be held around the first week of September and he knew it was selfish of him but as he watched the happy couple smile lovingly at each other, he couldn’t help but wish it was him instead of that stupid stranger wearing a smile just as glowing as hers. They continued to move around as if alive, and it repulsed him to his very core.

Watching the card with one last glare, he stuck it back to the envelope to fetch himself some tea to keep his mind off things.

The tea wasn’t enough. To top that off, the silence was too loud. He had to get out this once and get something to eat or drink. He had to be anywhere else but here. So he stood up just as quickly as he had just made himself at home, put on a coat and decided to walk on the way instead of Apparating.

The Leaky Cauldron was just as swell even in this day and age. He hated to admit he did not like that it was tidied up a bit. He missed the battered setting that gave it the impression it had been to war itself. Well, it technically had but his point was that he disliked it looked less like a ruin as it did back then.

On his way inside, he ran into someone he recognized was an old Gryffindor student. He managed a polite smile and a wave. He then went inside and sat on the end of a table, making himself comfortable.

If he just squinted his eyes this way, he could pretend the same old shabby witches were talking about the Prophet. If he turned his head a bit to the right it wasn’t hard to pretend the cracked brick he leaned his head against once in his teenage years hadn’t been fixed. If he just squinted his eyes even more, he could pretend that the woman who sat at the other end of the table beside him was . . . her.

Only that this woman’s hair was way shorter, and there was a distinct air of radiance that surrounded her. He couldn’t see much until she felt him looking right at her that she turned to face him.

But it was her. And, to his surprise, she was smiling back at him.

“Hello, Malfoy,” she said, extending a hand in greeting. The longer he looked, the more the present blurred with history. Right now, a woman in her early twenties sat in front of him. “How’ve you been?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

One cannot simply just pick when and where something ends. In movies, parting ways usually ended in heartbreak with the rain drenching the scenery — tears and arguments built with anguish.

Today, on the other hand, was a lovely day. The Hogwarts Express was nearing King’s Cross, and the only possible thing that could tarnish it was something she did not know yet.

On the twenty-fifth of December last year, a boy from Slytherin took her to the Yule Ball. Oh yes, she could remember clearly how lively it had been and how he looked at her with those eyes filled with newfound adoration. The day after that it was all catching the other staring; coy remarks and lines; subtle smiles here and there whenever crossing paths while walking to class. . . .

It was a slow-burn what with nothing happening at all until December of their fifth year came and to her surprise, he had stayed behind that holiday and pounded on the Fat Lady’s portrait, demanding her to let him in. It was a late night, maybe around nine-thirty in the evening. Her friends had heard the commotion outside, a bit hesitant at first but each offered to go out. Hermione had a bad feeling about it, but came along anyway.

When the painting of the Fat Lady opened, the sight of the pale boy almost earned an unnecessary remark from Ron, but Hermione made up her mind and dragged the other two away before further damage could be caused. Soon, it was just the two of them and the muttered complains of the Fat Lady. She gave hushed apologies as she pulled the blond boy away.

“It’s nine-thirty,” she had hissed, staring him straight in the eye, “what do you want?”

“You.” When she did not respond, he let out a mock of an exasperated sigh. “You know, last time I checked . . . curfew’s ten.”

“Right. But really, what now?”

“I got you roses,” he said as he revealed what he’d been hiding. It was a lovely little thing.

“I don’t like flowers very much; they wither too quick.” She took the bouquet into her arms, cradling it dearly. “But thanks anyway. What’re they for?”

“Well, I was just thinking about the Yule Ball and what transpired and I thought I’d do something about it.”

“Let me guess, you gave these to me as a symbol of your oh-so-undying-love for me and you’ll ‘love’ me until the last flower dies but wait!” She waved her vacant hand and clasped her mouth in mock surprise. “The last flower is a plastic one!”

“No, but that’s genius. I should have done that.”

“Not really, I think it’s tacky. Good you didn’t. However, I wouldn’t mind a casual meeting wherever you want in Hogsmeade. You down for it, Prefect?”

“How about we go somewhere now?”

“What’re you suggesting?” And with a mischievous grin, he took her by the hand and led her away. She had asked him about the curfew, but he paid her no mind as he guided the way to the Astronomy Tower. Safe to say that in that moment, it seemed as if it were the start of something precious.

Now, as the train whined to a stop, her eyes were trained to the necklace she held in her palm. P, it plainly stated.

The night she received it, she had slinked into the Slytherin common room. She could remember clearly how Draco seemed rather surprised at her presence and how she asked what was it that he held in his hand.

When she opened the box, she pressed a kiss against his cheek, thanking him over and over for the lovely necklace he had given her. But she had seen his furtive glances in the direction of the boys’ dormitory even as he kissed her cheek in return. She paid it no mind at the time, but her gut told her something else.

As she slipped the necklace in her cloak’s pocket, she threw a reproachful look at the empty seat across from her. She’d left her friends’ compartment to sit and wait for him to finish doing his ‘prefect duties,’ but he never stopped by.

Just as well, she thought. I’ll just head on over to his compartment.

But maybe she shouldn’t have. After all, ignorance could have been bliss. She didn’t have to open the door to see what was taking place inside for the glass pane let her know enough: Pansy was sitting on one of the chairs, buttoning her blouse up with a subtle hint of a smirk on her face.

She didn’t know her well enough to be comfortably blunt, so she asked her politely where Draco was. “Hi, uh, have you seen Draco?”

“Have I seen him?” she repeated, voice filled with mock amusement. “More than enough of him, I’d say. You know, just . . . the usual.”

She didn’t want to believe it until Pansy picked up a cloak on the floor that was not hers. Then another button-down shirt tossed lazily on the floor.

[Y/N]’s breath hitched at the thought of him was pressed against the window with his hands on another girl’s neck, caressing it dearly; their lips not too far away from touching, eyes almost shut. . .

Again, it was a lovely day. There were already parents pulling their children into tight embraces along with younger siblings still too young for Hogwarts filing in to pester their brothers and sisters about events that happened they want to know more about.

Sighing, she licked her lips and turned away to walk out and look for her mother. Contrary to popular belief, her heart did not break at the sight of his fingers tracing someone else’s neck with passion-filled eyes. If anything, the only thing she felt was the necklace inside her pocket moving a little bit in every step she took.

“You know, my friends kept asking me what I even loved about you,” she had told him when he snuck her in his common room one late night.

“What’d you tell them?”

“Hm, well, I said that I like that you’re always determined to get what you want — me — and I like that you always had something to say. . .” She couldn’t even put a price on that wholesome smile he wore. “What?”

“Just ‘like,’ huh?” he pouted, and she found him too adorable not to give a peck on the cheek.

“Well, we’re not there yet.” Maybe it was the faint dancing of the fireplace’s flames casting a warm glow upon them or the way her head was a perfect fit on his chest but she felt as if they were getting close. Of course, she did not tell him this at the time.

“When will we get there, then?”

Safe to say that they did not get there at all. Close, but not quite.

But even so, it was as if they had planned out every bit of their future before them – what kind of house they’d like, what month would be the best month to get married. . .

All of these were done without even a mention of the L-word.

She was trudging back to her empty train car to pick up her trunk when a hand locked on her wrist. Halting, she faced him. “Ready to go? Wait, you alright?”

He made to put his hand on her forehead, checking for a fever when she batter his hand away. Her eyes fell on the clean shirt he now wore. He had changed already. Of course he did.

He opened her mouth to speak but she cut him off. “Wait, no. You’re sorry, you can explain, and that it’s not what it looked like, yeah?”

“What?” asked Draco, now irritated. She untangled his hand away from her own. His throat was locking in, he wanted to say something but he just didn’t know what.

“Listen,” she started, “it’s just as well.”

“What are you talking about? Is something wrong? [Y/N], talk to me.” He started to step forward to help pull out her trunk from the train rack sitting on the floor but she batted him away gently and pulled it out herself, not daring to meet his eyes.

Setting the trunk down to get a better look at the boy before her, she put her hands on his shoulders. He had grown taller.

“Honestly, I’m more surprised at how I’m not as angry as I’m supposed to be and not at what I just heard a few minutes ago.” Chuckling humorlessly, she looked up at him as she let her hands down to her sides. “It’s okay, Malfoy. We’re not the same people we fell in love with. I just wish you had told me earlier before making me wait all alone the entire ride home.”

“[Y/N], did I do something wrong? Just talk to me, why won’t you talk to me? I— I just— Merlin, I’m. . .”

“No, you aren’t sorry. Look, six months was a good run and I want us to end in good terms before we go about our ways.” She picked up her trunk, ready to leave. She stepped out of the train as few more parents filed in and out to fetch their kids.

“So, we’re done?” Draco had followed her out, but she did not want to meet his eyes. “You won’t even bother to explain anything or at least let me talk? That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.” The necklace threatened to burn through her pocket, now a constant reminder of her naivety. With a tight smile, she held it up to him, the ‘P’ dropping innocently as if it had done nothing wrong (Which it hadn’t, except that its mere existence was enough to be considered an object of betrayal). “She can have her necklace now. I used to think that the letter stood for Princess but I guess it meant Pansy, right?”

Grabbing his hand, she dropped it into his palm. This might be the last time they’d hold each other’s hands, and so she decided that it’d be best to make something out of it and drew gentle circles with her thumb.

“It’s over,” she said. As she kept her eyes trained on him this time, all she could think about was how so much has changed between them: just like how they grew taller, so did his pride.

Out of all the most impossible things, she never thought she’d live long enough to see Draco Malfoy desperately plead someone for something, but most importantly . . . that she would be that someone. There were no words spoken, but she could read those eyes enough to know the things he would never dare to say out loud.

“It’s over?” he repeated. “[Y/N], do you not love me enough to hear me out?” He took her hands into his.

“Did you not love me enough to think?” She brought her hands up to pull his own hands away from her face, but immediately tucked it into the pockets of her jeans afterwards. “Look at us talking about love for the first time. Too bad it’s at our epilogue.”

“Will you please, please just talk to me? Let’s just sort this out!” His hair was unkempt, and she found herself thinking if Pansy would be patient enough to comb it down and neaten it every single time. He opened another compartment door, offering to let her sit down. “Please?”

“I don’t know. . .”

Six months. Half a year. But there was more to it all than just the time they spent together with a label; more than just the dance at the Yule Ball where they laughed and enjoyed the direction of the music, dancing as if they were the only people in the dance floor; more than the nights they spent in each other’s common rooms enveloping the other in a warm embrace; more than the knowing glances they exchanged before they became a thing; more than literally everything.

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to shed a tear or at least slap him out of anger.

She wasn’t angry no matter how much she wanted to be.

“Well, I have nothing to say anymore.” I do. I know you let your pride get in the way. I know you let them get in your head. I know you let their possible opinions tarnishing your name blot our relationship. I have no regrets, only that I wish I hadn’t let that one dance in the ball make me think highly of you and who you could be. “Farewell, Malfoy. I’ll see you in a few months.”

With that, she picked up her stuff and walked away to greet her mother who had been waiting for her not so far away.

She couldn’t even fall asleep on the car ride home. Or maybe she just didn’t want to dream about him. A valid reaction would be to cry it out and feel what you had to feel, but it was all hollow. Heck, she didn’t even have a clue what she felt.

Summer was an absolute pain, what with nothing to do but household chores and errands. She had subscribed to the Daily Prophet and have been receiving letters from Hermione, Ron, and Harry; all the while she was also sending them letters back.

The end of the vacation was coming to an end too fast and it was time to go back to Diagon Alley to get everything for the upcoming school year. She seriously considered not tagging along, but she knew full well that her mother would have trouble navigating the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as the thought of not going to Diagon Alley entered her mind, another thought came.

What if I just didn’t return to Hogwarts at all? What if I just stayed here and applied for home school until my college years and live a normal life? Alright, I’m telling my mom. Mom, I do not want to return to that cursed school. Everything is bullshit and I just want to reunite with my old friends.

Just when she was about to swing her bedroom door open to trudge downstairs, the pile of envelopes sitting innocently on her vanity desk captured her, keeping her trained to her doorway. There were also a few boxes right next to it – packages from her friends. She approached it hesitantly, but as soon as it was within reach, she felt her heart threatening to burst into countless pieces.

No, she did not want to leave Hogwarts. She just needed a break from that world. She needed a friend from this world where she could just pretend she was still that little girl who dreamt of living a simple life in a small house all the while only worrying about bacon being overcooked. Slowly, she backed away from the letters; tied her hair up in a ponytail; rummaged through her notebooks to find a different envelope tucked in between the pages of an old journal; skimmed through the long page and found the phone number she knew she’d find; and rushed downstairs to dial it.

Taglist: @sfdlm @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @gwlvr @marrymetheonott @aspiringsloth20 @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @turn-to-page-394-please @henqtic @badass-yn

#harry potter #hp #draco malfoy #draco #draco lucius malfoy #dlm #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem reader #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco malfoy x reader angst #draco malfoy x fem!reader angst #draco malfoy x gryffindor reader #draco malfoy x fem!gryffindor!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #ves.writes draco malfoy

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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[Navigation] [Masterlist]

GOOD FOR ME NAVIGATION

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: He remembers how an outburst and an attempt to reconcile from years back went awry. He finally finds out why she cut things off with him. » This is Part Two.

Words: 3.2k (3214)

Warnings: not proofread, angst, cursing, arguments, cheating, mentions of sexual activities, gaslighting, doubts, threats, mention of the m-word + let me know if i missed something!

“Draco!” she exclaimed, opening her arms wide as if this was a regular occurrence. “Fancy seeing you here. How’ve you been?” She pulled him into a friendly embrace. The smell of her hair convinced him he was back in his teenage years, smelling the fragrance of a familiar scent from the Amortentia. No, do not smell her hair.

He pulled away hastily and sat back down, scrutinizing the Leaky Cauldron once more.

“I’m alright.” Anything but. “‘Bout you? I received . . . you know, a uh, card.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was worried Owliver lost it. We’ve been having issues with delivering Save the Date cards so I had to personally meet some of the people. McLaggen left just now. I also met Dean Thomas this morning, he’s doing really great! I heard he was. . . .”

Owliver. Right, the old snowy owl. As he watched her go on about the struggles they’ve been facing amid the upcoming wedding, in his mind they were both aging backwards, and they were standing outside Eeylops Owl Emporium a few weeks before their fifth year started.

“You’re buying an owl?” he had asked her that day, hands in his pockets as he watched her curiously eye each owl with amusement. That was when he made up his mind that he’d try and ask her out that year.

“Not yet. Maybe once I get enough cha-chings,” she had replied.

“Cha-chings?”

“Boo, boring. It means cash. I only need a few more and I’ll convert my earnings to Galleons and the next thing you know, I have an owl.”

“I’ll be waiting for that time so you could start sending me love letters.”

“Are you flirting with me, Malfoy?”

“What if I am?”

She did not reply. Instead, she laughed while shaking her head in amusement. He didn’t know how, but he had started laughing too. When their laughter died down, she pointed at a tawny owl in a cage far back inside. “That one looks cute.”

“You’re cute,” he said at the time, relishing the way she reddened.

“I know,” she said back, smiling up at him before returning her focus back to the owl. “But what do you think?”

“Doesn’t look even half as good as my Eurasian Eagle-Owl. You should get one of those.”

“Why not the tawny one?”

“Because,” he started, “it’s a tawny. What would you want to do with that? It’s small.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who thinks I’m ‘pretty even for my height.’ You do know you’re only taller than me for a few inches, right?”

“You underestimate growth spurts too much, just you wait.”

“. . .Wait till your father hears about this?” she joked, holding back her laughter as hard as she could. When he flushed, she cleared her throat in an attempt to bring back the direction of the conversation. “So, owls. What do you think about the snowy ones?”

“What, you trying to be to be Potter?” he scowled.

“Oh, come on. What do you think?”

“I mean, they’re alright I guess? Still no match to my owl, though. Just consider getting one, alright?”

“I can’t even afford a tawny one, how do you expect me to get one of your ‘majestic’ owls?” She crossed her arms, looking at him with one brow raised. “For a pretty boy, you seem to lack the bare minimum in terms of intelligence.”

“I’d be throwing a fit if you didn’t just call me a pretty boy,” he said.

“Okay, here’s a test of intelligence. I came up with a cool name for an owl. If you come up with a better name, I’ll give you. . . .” As she trailed off, he watched her expectantly, brows high up. She dug her pockets for something minimal. “This . . . lint. Wait, here! I’ll give you this brunette barbie keychain.”

“A complainable prize but it’s from you, so who am I to complain?”

“That’s not a word,” she said.

“Complainable? It is now,” beamed Draco.

“Whatever, just give me a name! Something that goes with a snowy owl.”

“You’re really sticking with a snowy o—”

“Just go!”

“Scorpius,” blurted Draco. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, as if in thought. “It means ‘Scorpion’ in Latin.”

“Right, like the constellation?” she asked.

“Exactly the constellation.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, scrutinizing the name in her mind. Scorpius the owl. Scorpius the snowy owl. Scorpius the tawny owl. “It’s too . . . good.”

“That’s a good thing right? So, you’ll go with it then?”

“Well, I was thinking something like Owlivia if it’s a girl and Owliver if it’s a boy.”

“Merlin, that’s genius.” The two of them laughed once more. She was still watching the owls looking at them with curious eyes while he on the other hand watched her and her alone. That’s a beautiful laugh, he hd thought to himself. “But you still said it was too good so does that mean I still get your brunette barbie keychain, then?“

“I said a better name than the one I came up with, I only gave you ‘too good.’ So no, you don’t.”

“Too good is a superlative adjective,” he said defensively, suppressing a wide grin.

“No, it’s not. Best is good’s superlative adjective. Good gracious, you need to study more. Looks won’t get you anywhere.”

“So you think I have looks?”

“Whatever, Malfoy. On a different note, Scorpius is actually a nice name. It’s too nice to give to an owl. Just save it for your future kid.”

“You mean our future kid.” This earned a playful punch on the shoulder from her, but it had been so worth it. But now as he continued to watch her and as the memory of Eeylops Owl Emporium’s dissolved and was replaced by the Leaky Cauldron’s gloomy but also homely interior, all his dreams became nothing but dropped candy. It was like debating yourself whether you should let it be or pick up the candy and risk getting some practical disease.

“Anyway, enough about me. Sorry, I’m just overwhelmed with this wedding thing and it’s just” — she made bomb gestures with her hands as she let out a long sigh — “you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” said Draco mournfully in her direction. Yes, [Y/N]. I know. He managed a tight-lipped smile before turning to her completely. “Well, I’ve just been focused on work and the — er — usual stuff.”

An unfamiliar person set a cup of butterbeer in front of [Y/N] and only then did he realize he hadn’t ordered anything yet. “Excuse me? Yes—yes, um, I’d also like one. Yes, one butterbeer, please. Right, thank you.”

The guy — which Draco now considered was an intern or at least a newly hired person — nodded vigorously and turned to fetch his order. [Y/N] started to chug down her own.

“Saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you?’ I have to say, I’m kinda proud.”

When she set the cup down, he was back at the Great Hall again in his sixth year. The memory was so vivid— no, too vivid that it was as if he had entered a Pensieve.

It was the Welcoming Feast and he’d been eyeing her for the past half hour or less or more — he did not know at this point. It was like nothing even happened the last time they saw each other. Why hasn’t she taken him back yet? Surely, two months was enough, right? Maybe he’d hear her out now.

He made up his mind that he’d let her take her time. But then she pat Ron on the back with the same laugh she had given him whenever he did something stupid. No worries, Draco thought. Let her do what she wants to do.

And then he was noticing every little thing she did — touching Harry’s hair, putting food on Ron’s plate comfortably, talking to Neville. . .

The next thing he knew, he was on his feet and marching as fast as he could until he reached the Gryffindor table, batting her arm away from Ron’s plate.

He expected at least eyes worn out from tears, for her to come running to him and tell him it was wrong to let him go but she didn’t do any of those things. She was even looking better than ever.

“What the hell, Draco?”

“Ah,” he started, trying to keep himself steady as hard as he could. “Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily. You found new guys to please you and it hasn’t even been too long.”

“That’s rich,” she said calmly, rolling her eyes as she continued to eat even as they started to gain more attention from the surrounding crowd.

“So, you settled for a Weasley then?” Scoffing, he crossed his arms. “Remember when you said you wanted to give me the world? Hear that, Weasley? You’re not so special.”

“I’m not dating him,” she replied.

“She doesn’t owe you an explanation!” argued Hermione, brows furrowed in indignation.

“Keep your mouth shut, Mudblood. I’m not talking to you.” Ron was on his feet in a second, but Hermione was quick enough to hold him down. “What, Weasley is your king, isn’t he?”

To his dismay, [Y/N] was now glowering at him. Still no tears, huh? Draco took a deep breath, ready to try.

“You do know you just called me the exact same thing, right? You think you’re so better but all you have is your stupid blood like that’s got something to do with anything.”

“Got you talking, eh? Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy. Not me, if you even cared to ask.”

“I can tell,” she looked him up and down with a disdainful look. He felt his chest clench. His hair was tousled, his shirt left with one button open, his cloak thrown on messily.

“Good for you, you’re doin’ great out there without me. Just— Merlin, I wish that I could do that. Do you know how much I’ve lost my mind? I’ve spent nights crying on the floor of my bathroom! Nights, [Y/N]. You didn’t even bother to send me a damn owl to check on—”

“Can you even hear yourself right now?” she laughed mirthlessly, putting her utensils down. Half of the students were watching them intently now, especially the new first years. The teachers seemed to be preoccupied, but they were bound to notice soon. The Great Hall was still filled with chatter particularly by the ones who haven’t heard the present argument yet. “Funny how even after we ended, I’m still the one cleaning up your mess and taking the fall.”

He knew what she was talking about. All eyes on them right now would be talking about her. Draco felt small now, with that pit in his stomach dreadfully growing bigger and bigger. If only it would swallow him right now. Maybe he shouldn’t have lashed out.

“You know what, Draco? Good for me,” she said, standing up. She rose from the benches and looked him straight up in the eye. “And you better not call me or any of my friends that cursed word again or I’ll make sure to spill your stupid pure-blood all over. Really, good for me.” When she stormed out of the Great Hall, he made a promise to himself he’ll keep doing whatever it takes to get her back.

On the holiday of their sixth year, Draco stayed back at Hogwarts, standing once more in front of the Fat Lady just like last year with a box in his hands. This time, however, he refrained from banging on the frame and begged her to open up instead. He stood there for ten minutes with the Fat Lady lecturing him about how she’s going to report him to a member of the faculty when she opened up to let a first year he recognized was Euna Ambercrombie, the younger sister of that Euan kid in his year.

“Hey, kid,” he called. The young girl shrunk, hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry, I won’t turn you in. I just want to know if [Y/N] [Y/L/N]’s inside.”

“Uh. . . She isn’t here.”

“Come on, could you please just check?”

“No, she really isn’t! She even gave me this doll keychain because she wanted me to look after her stuff while she’s away. See?” The girl held up the same keychain she had shown him that one day at Eeylops Owl Emporium. “Please don’t turn me in, I was just trying to figure out where to get food at this hour and I didn’t want to wake my brother or anyone up.”

“I said I won’t,” said Draco. “Look, is any of her friends there? You know, Granger, Weasley, Potter, Longbottom?”

“They – They all went home! I’m sorry, I really don’t know anything, I’m just hungry.”

Groaning, Draco held out the box. The girl peered at the box, wary. “Forget it, just take this.”

“And give it to. . . ?” She opened the box hesitantly but relaxed when she saw a dainty cake inside.

“It’s yours, don’t worry. Just stop going around loitering at this hour.” With a beaten smile and one last longing look at the inside, he walked away and went back up to the Astronomy Tower where he began picking up petals he scattered all over the place and taking down an entire banner he made.

“Busy night?” said a voice. His heart lurched. Maybe she came back to Hogwarts last minute? But when he turned around, he only found Pansy lingering by the stairway with a comforting smile. “I heard she’s got a Muggle boyfriend.”

“I don’t want to talk right now, Parkinson.” He picked up one last petal and stuffed it into a bag before sagging down to the floor, raking his hands through his air in exhaustion. “I need some time alone.”

“I’m here,” she said coyly. “You can talk to me.” She walked towards him and sat down right beside him.

“I just don’t get it, you know? I’m trying so hard. What else does she want? I’ve tried apologizing and asking where the hell did it go wrong and what did I even do? I just—”

The next thing he knew, she had pulled him by his collar and pressed her lips against his, their breaths shallow as he let her take him by storm. He closed his eyes, and he didn’t think he’d want to open it ever again that even when she pulled away and heard her unbuttoning her shirt, he kept his eyes shut.

“Draco, look at me,” she said hoarsely. He didn’t dare open his eyes. “Look at me.”

“No,” he breathed, shutting his eyes tighter. “Just go on.”

“This is ridiculous, don’t you think? Just open your eyes.” He kept them shut. “Why won’t you look at me?”

“Because it’s easier,” said Draco.

“So you could picture her, right? That’s it, isn’t it?” He could hear her standing up and buttoning her clothes. “Screw this, I deserve better. I’m here—I’ve always been here for you and all you care about is that lowly—I just—this is stupid. She doesn’t even trust you enough to listen to you! Don’t you see? The trash took itself out, Draco.”

He finally looked up. She had already fully buttoned her shirt and was now slipping on her cloak. “Say that again.”

“I did what I had to,” reasoned Pansy. “Don’t go crying over spilled milk, she wasn’t worth it. You said so yourself that you wouldn’t settle for less, yet there you were making a fool out of yourself. You should be thankful I had the decency to —”

“What’d you tell her?” he asked, still not standing up. This had never happened before — maybe it was the sense of foreboding he couldn’t avoid, not that he dared to do so. She didn’t respond. “Answer the question!”

“Do you really want to know, Malfoy?” She crouched on her haunches, taunting his every move. “Do you really want to go down there?”

“Parkinson, what did you tell her?”

“Don’t go crying over spilled milk,” she repeated. One thing came to his mind — the train ride back home. He was going to meet her parents that day and he wanted to look presentable. Pansy was holding a tiny carton of apple juice and a box chocolate frog in hand. He remembered how the frog jumped out from the box and onto his shirt, staining it all over until she opened the window to let it jump out. When the train lurched, the apple juice’s contents spilled and made its way to his shirt.

He had forgotten the incantation of the Scouring charm, having been used to people doing crap for him. Pansy’d suggested he just changed into something better and he hurriedly took off his shirt and realizing he should do this in the bathroom, frantically pulled down his trunk and grabbed a decent shirt inside and rushed towards the other exit to get to the toilets and change.

“She didn’t even want to hear you out!” scoffed Pansy. “I did you a favor, Malfoy. I know I was your first choice to the ball but I’ve already said yes to Zabini so you had to go with the mere runner-up.”

He clenched his fists tight in his sides, the bag of petals tossed a few inches away from him, long forgotten. But he couldn’t talk at all. He was rooted there, jaw open.

“I’ll see you around, Malfoy.” With a swish of her cloak, she stomped down the stairs and vanished from sight, leaving him alone holding a forlorn bag of pathetic petals.

Left in the deafening silence of the wind up in the Astronomy Tower, he stood up and leaned on the railings, wanting to burst into flames. But attracting Mr. Filch’s attention wasn’t worth the risk so he resorted to holding out the bag of petals, pointing his wand directly at it and set it on fire, the flames licking up until it was only a mere remnant of what it was.

Finding an uncanny resemblance to these charred petals with himself, he furiously let go of the burned package, letting the wind take it away. For once, he was not just angry with himself — he was angry at her. As much as he hated to admit it, Pansy was right. Why couldn’t she have heard him out that day? But maybe this was good, maybe this what he needed for her to take him back. Or would that be selfish?

Slumping back down to the floor and having nothing else to do, he started dreading if she was in someone else’s arms, being showered in kisses by someone else. Sometimes, it helped him hate that other person more if he just imagined she was still thinking of him whenever the other person did something sweet similar to the things he used to do, but he knew her better than to assume such things. Just like Pansy, she knew she deserved better. And he was determined to let her know he was willing to give so much more the next time he saw her.

Taglist: @sfdlm @fives-cup-of-coffee @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @gwlvr @marrymetheonott @aspiringsloth20 @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @turn-to-page-394-please @henqtic @harry-oancakes123

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #dlm #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x fem reader fluff #draco x reader fluff #draco x fem reader angst #draco x reader angst #draco malfoy oneshot #draco x reader oneshot #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco x fem gryffindor reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor reader #ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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[Navigation] [Masterlist]

GOOD FOR ME NAVIGATION

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: The story comes to an end, removing the blur between the past and present as they bid their goodbyes. » This is Part Three

Words: 2.0k (2012)

Warnings: not proofread, angst, light cursing + let me know if i missed anything else!

When she got back from holiday vacation, she was always with those wretched friends of hers. It was a relief for him to know she probably spent the holidays with the Weasleys — he knew because she was wearing a sickly mustard sweater.

But though he promised himself he’d win her back, there was just never a good time: whenever he mustered up the courage to approach her, she always found a way to avoid him be it walking in a tight crowd, going to the girls’ restroom and staying there for minutes on end, and a lot more. Alright, he had thought. Let her take her time if that’s what she wanted.

He let this go on for so long until his birthday finally came and he just had enough already. Fists clenched, he couldn’t help but remember the last time he marched up to the Gryffindor table: it was the start of the term, and he was approaching her with a crooked scowl on his face, which we wore in this very moment as well.

“Yes?” she said, eyes curious more than judgmental. Draco noticed she was holding an envelope in her hands, which she was probably going to open just now.

“Is that a letter?” he asked, bottling up his anger as much as he could. “A love letter from your lowly boyfriend, yeah?”

“What does it matter now, Malfoy?”

He bit the inside of his cheek before grabbing her wrist (the hand holding the envelope) and practically dragging her away.

“Ow! Draco, stop!” she cried, trying to pry off his grip on her wrist. “Let go of me!”

He didn’t. Not until they exited the Great Hall, eyes on them as they went. When he loosened his grip once they were outside, she pulled her hand away from him, clutching at her whitening and reddening wrist.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I’ve waited this long and I believe I am not wrong when I say I deserve an explanation.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” spat [Y/N]. She made to slip the envelope into her pocket when Draco snatched it out of her hands. “Give it back!”

He held it up high in the air, tearing the envelope open and letting it fall to the ground as he pulled out the letter, reading it unsteadily as [Y/N] kept on clawing at his elbows, bickering him to give it back to her.

Draco was still reading it when he felt something cold press against his jaw. He looked down to find her aiming her wand at him, a threatening scowl on a face he was used to seeing smiles on. “Give it back, Malfoy.”

“Heavens, Miss [Y/L/N], put that wand away!” cried Professor McGonagall from the door to the Great Hall. “And you, Mr. Malfoy, it does not do to be walking around and stealing friends’ letters.”

“Oh, we’re hardly friends, Professor,” said [Y/N], glaring at Draco as she let her hand holding her wand fall to her side.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to take ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin and put you both in detention with Mr. Filch this evening.”

[Y/N] let out a long sigh, crumpling the envelope in her hand. She looked at the letter, taking a deep breath before nodding politely at Professor McGonagall as she excused herself back to the Great Hall, ignoring the countless eyes on her as she walked. She didn’t care anymore.

“What happened?” Ron asked when she got back to their table, others aside from her friends leaning in to listen.

She shook her head, letting out a long sigh as Draco walked in soon after, sending her a reproachful look.

“Nothing,” she started, casually grabbing a tart from the table, “just another reason why I hate Tuesdays.”

The countdown to Saturday was an absolute drag, and she hadn’t a clue why. After all, didn’t she want to avoid anything that had to do with him? Maybe she just wanted her letter back. Or maybe to create closure for the two of them once and for all.

Thankfully, they weren’t stationed in the Forbidden Forest. Just like Ron did on their second year, they were forced to polish the silvers in the Trophy Room. The two did not talk, although they did exchange a glance or two the entire time.

When they finally finished, it was almost midnight already and [Y/N] began to walk in the other direction. Draco followed close behind, his footsteps ringing. It wasn’t when their time to part ways did he speak.

“He must like you a lot,” he said.

[Y/N] stopped walking. She was ready to aim her wand at him again when she realized he had extended his hand and was holding out the letter.

“I believe this is yours.”

“It is, thank you,” said [Y/N], taking the letter from him. “Oh, and, Draco?”

“Yeah?”

“I believe this. . .” She tucked the letter inside her cloak and pulled out a different keychain. “. . .is yours.”

Draco threw his head back in laughter, taking it in his hand as he examined the keychain in the light. “This one’s blonde,” he said.

“Yeah, I gave the brunette one to a first year.”

“Right, to Euna Ambercrombie.”

“How’d you know?”

Because I came to see you last holiday, Draco wanted to say. “I have my ways,” he said instead.

“Oh, right,” she chuckled. “Happy Birthday, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good to know,” said Draco. He could tell her now. He could be mad at her at this moment and ask her why she couldn’t have trusted him. He could tell her nothing happened with Pansy. He could tell her everything. “I’ll see you around.” But he didn’t.

“You too,” said [Y/N] as she walked away. Draco watched her pull out the letter and start reading until she was out of sight. Maybe it was his body aching from the polishing, but he could swear he heard a voice in his head asking him what was holding him back.

He couldn’t find a solid answer even when he finally arrived in the Slytherin common room. Maybe it was the letter from that stupid Muggle showing her more love than he had ever did when she was his, maybe it was the look on her face when she held the letter for the first time during their meal at the Great Hall but he did not know for sure.

The following days were better. They exchanged minimal but knowing smiles from across the room. Draco would wait. Yes, he would. Might take forever, but he would wait.

When the end of the term came, Draco put as much distance he could between him and Pansy. She didn’t seem to mind, though. He decided he’d better do his prefect duties and roam the halls. This decision was more built in hopes of clearing his mind than berating first years.

The train skidded to a halt, and he thought this might be his last shot. He approached her, ready to help her with her trunk when she stepped out and embraced someone just outside one of the open doors. He didn’t get a good look at the stranger’s face, but he didn’t need to see more to know it was the one who wrote the letter. They walked away from the train together. He’d never seen her smile like that, and maybe that was a good thing. Sighing, he went back to his train compartment to pull out his own trunk from the rack.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Summer was anything but a break, so when the time to shop for new things in Diagon Alley came, he was eager to leave his room. He was on his way to get new books from Flourish and Blotts when he ran into [Y/N] carrying an owl cage, a tiny white owl inside.

“Draco,” she greeted, a jubilant smile on her face. “Meet Owliver.”

“So that’s Owliver,” said Draco, smiling back. “Hey, you went with a snowy owl!”

“Yeah, and he looked at me with those adorable eyes so I just had to take him with me. Anyway, I got everything right here already so I might have to leave. Jerry’s waiting.”

“So, how is he?” asked Draco.

“How — oh, uh, well, he’s great. I mean, he did bring me over to meet his parents a week after I called—”

“The owl, I mean.” Draco chuckled.

“Oh! Goodness, I’m sorry. I thought you were — I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. So how’s Owliver so far?”

“Wow, you’re like a whole new person.”

“That I am,” said Draco.

“Gonna take long for me to get used to that,” said [Y/N], laughing. “Well, I’ve only had Owliver for a few minutes but I love him already.”

“He’s a hoot.”

“He definitely is.” Then there was that pause where both parties looked at each other as if waiting for something. “Well, I have to go now.”

I could tell her now, he thought. “Right, you do. Okay, I’ll see you.”

“Bye, Draco.”

And as she wove her way through her crowd, Draco found himself back in the present day, sipping butterbeer right next to her.

“Draco, before we send out the wedding invitations and before you say no, I hope you think about it first. It would really mean a lot to me if you could come.”

Would it be selfish if I just told you that I never did anything to jeopardize our relationship back then? Would it be selfish to still hope there was even an ounce of a chance for us to be back together?

“Do you remember the detention we got on my birthday in our sixth year?”

[Y/N] nodded hesitantly.

“You know, that evening, I thought we’d launch into these long and epic monologues about how sorry we are we hurt each other then we’d finally start promising all these stupid promises again but I guess I was wrong. I thought — by some absolute miracle and relentless hope — that I would be over it by now and maybe we’d even share a laugh or two about it, but that’s one more thing I got wrong. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to your wedding and see you wearing an awfully beautiful white dress walking down the aisle to meet someone who is not me.” But no, he did not say this. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. The truth was that she was still waiting for him to say something. Why couldn’t he say that?

“I still have the blonde barbie keychain,” said Draco, pulling out the key from his pocket and showing it to her. “You can have it back if you want a ‘Something Old’ for your wedding,” he joked, earning a lively laugh from her. This was enough, he thought.

“Nah, you keep it,” said [Y/N]. “I’m glad we could talk like this.”

“Me, too.”

“Anyway, I have to meet a couple of more caterers. It was really lovely seeing you today. Think about it, okay?”

“Sure,” said Draco as she began to chug what remained of her butterbeer before swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Did you say something?” she asked, hopeful, feigning having heard something. She did not tell him she wasn’t as happy as she was with the boy she dialed that summer before their sixth year. He was perfect, everything she dreamt of, but it was as if there was something missing. Say something, she willed him to say.

Draco, on the other hand, kept all he wanted to say bottled up this time. “Good for you,” he said with a smile.

[Y/N] smiled back, taking in a breath. “Good for me,” she repeated, chuckling lightly. “Well, goodbye.”

He watched as she stepped out of the bench and swung the door open, leaving him alone in the Leaky Cauldron with a bunch of strangers he did not bother to get to know. That was it. “Goodbye, [Y/N].”

A/N: easter egg but hehe ok so uh yea she was handling the wedding on her own OK SORRY UM THANK YOU FOR READING JDNFJEIW IDK WHAT TO SAY + she was not with the Weasleys or the Potters, she spent the holidays back home with the infrequently mentioned muggle guy 🏌🏻‍♀️ thought it would be angsty hehe ok i have a messy storytelling mbad

#harry potter #hp #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem!gryffindor!reader #draco malfoy x reader angst #draco angst #draco malfoy x fem!reader angst #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x reader oneshot #draco malfoy imagines #ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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Creepin’ Cabin || [D.M.] » Part Two

[Navigation] [Masterlist]

THIS IS A TWO-PART FIC. Click here to read Part One.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Halloween’s a thrill as Hogwarts introduces the Tri-Wizard Tournament and throws a horror house in to the mix instead of just a feast.

Words: 2.6k

angst || fluff

warnings: let me know if there are any!

A/N: okay omfg i can’t believe this is so long it had to be cut in two hHAHAHDHDA

She opened her eyes to the dark and freezing setting of what she can only assume was the Creepin’ Cabin. She was thankful for the cloak’s warmth.

It wasn’t a room; it was simply a hallway that stretched to both sides and the only thing in front of her was the staircase that no doubt lead back down to the entrance. She went for the staircase, looking down over the railing to find that it went another level down, probably back to the room infested with flobberworms. Something was clambering to climb her legs. She looked down and found little plastic baby dolls clawing at her with their fixed hands.

“Stupefy!” [Y/N] pointed at the enchanted dolls (now frozen), and she realized with a start that there were more coming from the other direction.

“You don’t have a whistle?!” Draco shrieked as soon as he stepped out from the fireplace. The dolls went for him as well, and he clambered back against the mantle of the fireplace, a frightened look on his face. He frantically searched for [Y/N] hurriedly went for her, pulling him behind him as he pointed his wand on the dolls. “Cru—”

“Expelliarmus!” She pointed her wand at Draco’s, sending it flying. Draco looked at her, eyes wide as ever as she pointed her want back at the dolls and yelled the Stunning Spell instead.

“Why— What are you— What if you got killed or something?”

“This is a school-facilitated activity, and you are under no circumstances supposed to use one of the Unforgivable Curses! What were you thinking?”

“It was attacking you,” he said defensively, his arms crossed. ”and the whistle — !”

“You could have gotten in trouble, Draco.”

“And you could have died.”

“They. Are. Just. DOLLS.”

“That are enchanted to attack you!”

“Oh, I’ve had enough of this.” [Y/N] tugged on Draco’s wrist, practically dragging him to the other hall. When they reached the end, she made to make a turn where they climbed up another set of stairs. Just when she was about to pull him and make another term, something dropped from the ceiling, legs hanging. They both screamed that they almost fell over the stairs with [Y/N] holding on tight to Draco’s elbow as he held on to the railing. He pulled her up, and once he steadied themselves on the landing, they looked at the body up and down.

“It was just a dummy, nothing to worry about.” [Y/N] patted the mannequin’s stiff legs, swinging it back and forth. To Draco’s surprise, she started laughing.

“Are you seriously laughing right now?”

“This is a horror house, of course it’s funny. Let’s go!”

As she took him by the hand and lead him to the next corridor where a rustic music box stood on its own, playing an eerie song that was supposed to be calming. “Fake, fake, fake. . .” Draco scowled and pulled her back to his arms, putting back his wand into his pocket and resting his hand on top of her head as they huddled down together to avoid slimy-like screens that obscured the other hall.

“Don’t be such a killjoy!” She yelled over the sounds of screaming and pounding of the doors as they crossed another hallway. They passed a series of typical things she recognized in most horror houses except that they were all better executed with the help of magic. As they ran, she noticed that Draco kept his eyes shut too tight.

“I—AM—TELLING—MY—FATHER—ABOUT—THIS.”

“Oh, shut up. He probably funded this, too!” As they took a turn, they heard loud footsteps behind, stomping and shaking the ground.

“Bloody hell!” Draco screamed and for a split second [Y/N] thought he was gonna save his own skin (or blow his whistle) just like he always does when he took the lead and dragged her along with him, not stopping until he reached the end of the hall and slammed the door shut behind them, panting as he did so.

“That was really fun,” said [Y/N] exhaustedly laughing. “I’ll take you to a Muggle horror house one of these days. I mean, not that I’m asking you out— Are you hugging me right now?”

He let go. “No,” he said curtly, clearing his throat. He didn’t even make an insulting retort about Muggles as he walked away on his own, embarrassed. “I think we’re close to the exit.”

She hurriedly followed him into the end of the room, but it was only a steep end. It looked like it would have been better if there was a bridge, for she could see a door at the other side. Butterfly-like figures were swarming around. Tearing away her attention from it, [Y/N] caught sight of one broom resting innocently against the wall. “What now?” Draco watched as the butterfly-like creatures continued on flying.

“Wait, Draco, hand me the Omnioculars.” He did. “This is exactly like what Harry, Ron, and Hermione encountered during our first year! Oh, stop making that face. But, yeah, these aren’t butterflies. That key looks different most of all. “Take a look, I paused it at exactly the right time. You use this broom and you put your Quidditch skills to use.” She shoved the broom against his chest and showed him what was on the Omnioculars.

It took about a minute until he finally caught the key. To her surprise, the other flying keys didn’t seem to attack or pester Draco as he grabbed the other key. He made his way to the other door, put the key inside, and twisted it. The door creaked open and she glimpsed a couple of something on the floor. Draco walked back to the steep end, broom in hand.

He tossed this back to her, and she caught it swiftly. She wasn’t a professional in Quidditch, but she enjoyed the occasional broom rides. “There’s just a bunch of crap in the room.”

“I can’t see them, could you hold one of the objects up?” yelled [Y/N] among the fluttering sounds of flying keys.

“Alright!” Draco jogged back to the door and bent down to pick one of the things up when he vanished. [Y/N] laughed. It must’ve been a Portkey. She hopped on the broom and flew over to the other side.

Walking over to the door, she caught sight of right pair of shoes just like the one in the first closet they came across. She crouched down and touched the second shoe. It was a rusty old Mary Jane shoe she recognized was identical to the second shoe from last time. Taking a deep breath, she jogged back to toss the broom to the other side when she saw it was already replaced by an identical one, resting on the same spot. Shrugging, she rushed back to the Mary Jane shoe and touched it.

She opened her eyes to lighthearted chatter. When she turned around she found Hagrid beaming, waving with his big hand. Up above the sky floated countless lanterns. “Good ter see you here, [Y/N]. Had fun in ‘ere?”

“I’ve been great, Hagrid. The school outdone itself tonight!” [Y/N] took off Draco’s dementor cloak and hung it over her right arm. “I’m guessing you had something to do with the creatures?”

“Right ‘ye are, [Y/N]. I’ll tell ‘ye more tomorrow. You lot should try the cotton candy they’re sellin’ over there. Well, I’m off to check on the other students now. Happy Halloween!” With that, he stomped back to the other side of the space where areas that were marked with an ‘x’ suddenly became occupied by appearing students.

“[Y/N]?” Hermione Gra–no, Pansy Parkinson called out behind her accompanied by Blaise Zabini. Pansy’s wig was messier than when she last saw her. There were amused smiles painted on their lips, and they exchanged glances. “Draco’s run back to the cabin a few minutes ago because apparently, a certain someone ‘doesn’t have their whistle and it’s dangerous!’”

The two laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry too much about him, he’s probably returning in about. . . . Yep, there he is!”

He didn’t see her at first, but she found the sight of him frantically searching for her hilariously adorable. His eyes kept going back and forth from the marked spawns to the open area until he saw Blaise, and then Pansy, and then finally her.

She didn’t know how to describe it in her mind, but he practically dashed toward her, and she noticed for the first time that his black button down shirt was messy as ever. He never let this clothes get scruffy. When he reached her, he pulled her into his arms, desperately gasping for air.

When she pulled away, it was his turn to pinch her ear. “Ow — !” The other two laughed, making heart shaped gestures with their hands as they left Draco and [Y/N] alone. “You did not have to do that.”

“I definitely did. You could have died in there.”

[Y/N] laughed, patting his shoulders as she did so. “It’s a school-facilitated activity and all I had to do was fly over with the broom.”

“You do know students got harmed in the previous Tri-Wizard Tournaments, right? And what if I hadn’t thrown that broomstick over?”

“Then that’s on you,” she answered playfully but immediately felt guilty when a flash of pain cross his face. “I’m sorry, that was too far.”

Draco sighed and looked away. There were still lanterns going up and above and it was a magnificent sight. The Quidditch Pitch was buzzing with life. Around them, more students kept appearing on the marked ‘x’ holding different shoes she recognized were from the room. A photographer pulled them to the side and instructed them to pose for a picture. She situated them in a huge cardboard stand with the Creepin’ Cabin posed behind them. “Ready?” the photographer asked.

“Ye—hold up.” She unfolded the cloak hanging over her arm and put it on Draco. “Do a dementor pose.”

He seemed confused at first but nodded and went to pose, but decided to detach the black sheer veil-like piece of clothing from his outfit and feigned a pose of giving it to her. “What?” she asked.

“I’m a dementor giving a piece of clothing to a house elf to set it free.”

“Hermione’s gonna hate me,” she said.

“Who’s a killjoy now?” He made hand waves with his hand in a pathetic impression of a dementor with his other hand outstretched to [Y/N], who was genuinely hesitant with this move but cowered like a house elf anyway. Draco said, “We’re ready.”

The photographer smiled and snapped the photo, a cloud of purple smoke emitting after the flash. They were both laughing, and it was just as beautiful as the floating lanterns.

“Thank you for participating in the Creepin’ Cabin, we’ll have your picture distributed tomorrow.”

[Y/N] gave the photographer a kind smile before Draco took her by the hand and lead her away. “Are we going back to the castle now? Are you tired? I think I want to stick around here for a while longer.”

He did not respond, but he didn’t lead her back to the castle either—he kept going through the crowds walking around the Quidditch Pitch’s ground, passing many brilliant booths into the side. As she looked around, she also noticed there were mini booths up the Quidditch Pitch’s stands. “So where are we going and what are we gonna do?”

As they came to a stop in front of a booth. Draco slipped a couple knuts to the attendant and the other in turn gave him something folded into a flat form. He took her hand again and lead her to the open space where many other students from different years were preparing to lift up their own lanterns.

“Ask what I’m gonna do,” said Draco as he unfolded the lantern and aired it out.

“Why?” asked [Y/N], laughing.

“Just do it.”

”Okay,” she said as she watched him point his wand at the square fuel cell and light it up. “What are you gonna do?”

Draco looked at her with a playful grin on his face as he let the lantern fill with hot air and become inflated. He took a deep breath, and smiled at the lantern he was holding. She realized he looked exactly like Lantern Draco from the Divination classroom did. “Well, [Y/N], I’m overcoming my fears.”

She would have made an insulting or satirical comment but the moment was far too special to do so. He gestured at the lantern he was holding at the sides, and she held it too. They were giggling now, and he told her to count with him.

“One. . . .” Draco started.

“Two. . .” [Y/N] joined in.

“Three.”

Together, they lift up their lantern and let it go. It went up to the night sky, more lanterns following close by. They remained silent for a while as they watched their lantern fly away until they lost sight of it as the other lanterns blocked it from their view. [Y/N] realized Draco’s arm was draped over her shoulder, and she didn’t seem to mind for she was leaning comfortably against him. She didn’t pull away and neither did he until she spotted Pansy and Blaise among the crowd.

Pansy was holding the messy wig in her hand as she helped Blaise unfold their own lantern. They looked immaculate, no doubt. “Hey, there’s Pansy and Blaise.”

“Yeah, that’s a given so stop looking at them and just keep on leaning against me.”

“That’s very blunt but I like it,” she replied, giggling lightheartedly. “And I like you.”

“Good, because I like you too.” He looked at her with curious eyes, but she did not look back. She let him watch her for a couple moments before looking right back at him.

“You know, in a way, you’re a Halloweener because you ween ergo you’re a weener!”

“I’m a what?” He chuckled, pulling away to be face-to-face with her but still keeping her close to him.

“That was bad. Okay, what about Hallowinner? It’s weird to say but I will not say the other one again. Anyway, yay because you’re a winner!”

“What prize did I win?”

“Well we got second place in our batch of ten people with about ten or fifteen minutes? I don’t really know how long we took, but once everyone of the ten got out, they tallied that we were the second best. And you won five points for Slytherin!”

“Not good enough,” he huffed.

“What do you mean? Oh come on, second place is perfect.” [Y/N] pulled away, taking a step back in disappointment.

“I’m not talking about the score,” said Draco. “If you still had the Remembrall it would pulse red and tell you you’re forgetting something.”

“Yeah, the whistle. Quit pestering me about that wretched thing.”

“No, I’m talking about this.” First, he took her wrist. Then he pressed her against himself and he leaned in to plant his lips into hers.

Surprised, [Y/N]’s eyes widened, but she closed it soon after letting it sink in and kissed him back. It was hard to capture it into words, but to put it simply—fulfilling. Maybe even more.

She pulled away, and looked into his eyes, her face red. “That was. . . .prize-ful.”

“Is there such a word?” teased Draco, squeezing her cheeks gently. “Come now, let’s go check out the other booths.”

“So we’re doing this, then?”

“Yeah, we are.” He stole another kiss, but this time on her cheek. It was safe to say this was the best she had ever felt. The stares followed them wherever they went yet she still felt as if they were alone in the best sense possible.

[PART ONE]

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @sfdlm @fives-cup-of-coffee @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

#anon #anon requests #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem reader #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco malfoy x fem!reader fluff #draco malfoy x fem reader fluff #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco x fem!reader #draco x reader fluff #ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

Text

Creepin’ Cabin || [D.M.]

[Navigation] [Masterlist]

anon: okay so I wanted to request a draco x female reader where it’s Halloween, and professors at hogwarts decide to spawn a haunted mansion/house near the grounds so that the students can come and visit. It would basically be like an escape room but with real monsters etc. Draco, reader and their friends decide to go one day and once they enter, they discover that in order to leave they have to complete a task which needs to be done inside the house. here comes both scared and protective draco ;P no rush n thank youuu! xxx

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Halloween’s a thrill as Hogwarts introduces the Tri-Wizard Tournament and throws in a horror house in to the mix instead of just a feast.

Words: 7.7k (7751)

angst || fluff

PART ONE -> 5.1k words

PART TWO -> 2.6k words

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @sfdlm @fives-cup-of-coffee @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

#navigation #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco malfoy x fem!reader fluff #draco malfoy fluff #ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

Text

Ceasefire

Anon: when the reader and draco finally stopped hating each other after they've been enemies for so many years (they're still at Hogwarts tho) but they still tease each other every now and then cause they just can't stop. || for my 300 followers celebration

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: How they went from each other’s bane of existence to idiots who couldn’t see what they mean to each other resorting to teasing back and forth long after putting an end to constant jinxing and hexing.

Words: 6.7k

A/N: my format is once again inconsistent. hehe btw here’s some enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers. i also added a bit of…fairy tales if that’s ok skxdhuw (beauty and the beast + cinderella) || EDIT: minor mentions of draco being taller than the reader

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

I. Autograph Book: June 25, 1998

“Yep, then your signature right here,” [Y/N] said to Ginny, who then scrawled her signature at the bottom after writing a short message to her. “Okay, thank you, love you.”

“'Course you do,” said Ginny, winking back at her. [Y/N] stuck her tongue out, laughing even after Ginny had gone.

[Y/N] had brought an autograph book where she got her friends to sign it up and fill it out with their answers such as their name, favorite color, band, song, and etcetera. At the bottom was empty space for a short message to the owner of the autograph book. Half of it was filled. She mostly got her friends from seventh year to fill it out. After all, this was their last year in Hogwarts.

Most of the students had left the Great Hall already, and she was still busy cutting a non-magical photo of her and Ginny from when she invited her over to her house one summer before their fourth year started.

“What’s that?” said a voice from behind her, taking the book into his hands. She looked up to find Draco Malfoy, getting a bit of deja vu from her third year. She would have stood up and grabbed it back, but she knew how it would end, and so she remained seated.

“Autograph book,” she said lamely. “I had my friends fill it out.”

“Saving your best friend for last, huh?” He sat down right next to her, flipping through the pages. “I’m free now.”

“Ew, you’re not gonna fill it.” She snatched the book back.

Draco feigned a look of hurt, bringing his hand up to his chest. “That hurt, my good friend. Come on, hand me that quill, I’ll sign your book.”

“Right,” she said with a wrinkled nose as she began to pack her bag.

“Where’re you going?” Draco whined.

“Sleep because I’m human.”

“Since when do you sleep?”

“You’re not gonna give this up, aren’t you?”

“Never,” agreed Draco, extending his palm, beckoning her to hand the book to him. She did. “This is a good enough birthday gift,” he said as he flipped the book, dipping the quill in the opened ink before he began to write.

“Your birthday was twelve days ago.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t give me any gift! Oh — okay, name. . .” Draco proceeded to mumble to himself as he answered the book. “It says here to write how long we’ve been friends.”

“Friends? That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” she mused. Draco scowled, moving on to the next question as she proceeded to laugh.

“Ooh, spirit animal. Do I just put my Patronus? No? Well, I’d say my spirit animal’s a dragon. Or a snake.”

“I think you mean ferret,” she said to herself, trying to pass it off as a cough.

“Hey, I heard that!”

“Good, because you were supposed to! Get that over with now, I wanna go and chill in the common room.”

Draco blew a raspberry. “You’re a bad friend, you know that?”

“Hm, I’d say I’m doing a pretty decent job.”

“So you agree?”

“What?”

“So you agree you’re a friend, bad as you may be?”

“Whatever, just hurry. Point is that I’m an okay person.”

“Not even close,” said Draco, grinning as he finished signing it. “I know you’re going to miss me once I’m gone, so I wrote you a very heartwarming message inside. Thank me later.”

II. Genesis: December 1992

During her first year, when she just got sorted to her House, she sat in between other students she didn’t bother to introduce herself to. Maybe out of wariness or maybe she was just shy, but she just didn’t. Now, as she stood amongst countless students, she found herself regretting not making an effort back then.

She was partnered up with someone from her House, but she was too busy trying to catch the eye of that one older boy from Slytherin. See, this was not out of some petty middle school crush. If anything, it was out of pure loathing.

Around September, she had sworn she had sworn she’d retaliate the moment she had the chance after he snatched a photo of her hamster that her older sister sent. She could still remember that they stood just outside the door to the Great Hall.

“What’s this? You like rodents?” he had said with a teasing voice with a tinge of gloat. But she fixated on that gloat.

“Give that back!” It wasn’t hard to grab it from him. He was only taller than her by two inches, and she was fast enough to snatch it back. “It’s my hamster.”

“'It’s my hamster!'” he said mockingly, throwing his head back as he cackled. “Their lifespans are awfully short, too bad you’re stuck here for seven years.”

“You keep talking smack about my hamster and I’ll make sure your lifespan is shorter than any rodent!” He seemed rather taken aback and just when he was about to open his mouth to say something back, a Prefect stepped out of the door, and soon students her year came out as well. As she walked away, she mouthed to him spitefully, “Peanut Butter.”

He didn’t seem to get it (she didn’t either), but she didn’t care as she disappeared into the crowd and fell in line with her House.

One thing they did get, however, was that war was on. And it most certainly did not stop there.

Back to the present, she shook her head, stretched her arms as she turned her attention away from the boy. Draco Malfoy risked a glance her way, checking to see if she was watching him. She wasn’t. Draco rolled his eyes at himself.

Later on, while Draco and Harry duelled in front of the other students, one spell sparked her interest — Tarantallegra.

In all her time in Hogwarts, she had never bothered to do Advanced Reading or do more than the bare minimum. But it was time to take some action. She spent her time in the library, looking up jinxes and hexes.

To put it simply: Her first and second year was mostly spent in Madam Pomfrey’s Hospital Wing. She’d gotten used to the two of them (yes, along with the boy) coming and going that they leave faster than they do every time they come.

At some point, the two had jinxed together with the same spell they had to spend three whole days in bedrest.

III. Where Did You Go: September 1993

So far, no fights since she set foot into Hogwarts. This was her second year, and she was determined not to make any mistake to make her stay plunge into mayhem.

That morning was just like any other Welcoming Feast; appetizing meals presented right in front of them, excited chatter, and familiar faces. Of course, it was also mixed with the frightened faces of the newly welcome first years.

As she ate a chicken leg, she only thought of how brilliant the weather is as the dome at the top of the room said so, and that nothing could possibly ruin a lovely day like this.

[Y/N] was taking a sip of her apple juice when an owl swooped in and approached her table. It wasn’t her own tawny owl. She didn’t know what breed it was even when it got closer. She was trying to get a good look at the owl when she realized it was holding out something for her. Something red. Her seat mates let out low whistles while others were trying to see what was going on.

A Howler on my first day? Her brows furrowed in confusion. As much as she hated to do so, she took it into her hands as the owl flew away. She prepared herself for the worst when she opened it.

It was quiet for a moment, and everyone around her was tense. She was about to throw it away when it jumped into the air and started . . . singing?

“If it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe, I’d been married a long time ago. Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?”

“Who’s Joe?” She heard one of her seat mates ask. She wasn’t the only one confused.

The Howler wasn’t that bad, she thought. It wasn’t even yelling. Then a beat started playing.

“If it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe, I’d been married a long time ago. Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?”

As soon as the instrumental played, more and more looked around to find the source. What she wouldn’t give for the Howler to eat her up right now. It started to dance around her, spitting the whining instrumental until it stopped right in front of her to blast some more.

“IF IT HADN’T BEEN FOR COTTON-EYE JOE, I’D BEEN MARRIED A LONG TIME AGO WHERE DID YOU COME FROM, WHERE DID YOU GO? WHERE DID YOU COME FROM, COTTON-EYE JOE?”

It went on for three whole (devastating) minutes. When it finally shredded itself into pieces, she stormed to where Draco was seated, her hands balled up in annoyance. “What do you have to say?”

“Nothing,” he said, his face twisted from holding back his laugh. “Ow! It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it!”

“You sure as hell have something to do with it!” she spat. He shook his head, but he was just wheezing at this point. “You — Then why are you laughing?”

“Because whoever did it is a freaking genius!”

“Oh, I know you have something to do with it.”

“It wasn’t me, it was all Cotton-Eye Joe.” The Slytherin table launched into fits of raucous laughter, their faces scrunched up.

“I know you’re behind this,“ said [Y/N]. “Admit it!”

“Nope, I’m not.” She couldn’t see it, but he was tapping his legs under the table to the beat of the song.

IV. Tale As Old As Time: December 1994

Today was dreadful, what with her fellow third years squealing after being asked by other students from year four and above. She was so sure she’d be one of those who’d be asked to the Ball that she sent a letter to her mother asking if she could borrow her older sister’s prom dress but with extra petticoats.

She fancied this one fourth year Gryffindor with a thick accent, so when she saw him coming her way she practically smiled hysterically. This did not age well, though: Seamus Finnigan smiled back awkwardly, walking right past to approach Lavender Brown. She knew it was far-fetched but it wouldn’t hurt to hope the Hufflepuff champion would ask her out. Of course, he didn’t. But she wouldn’t mind anyone asking her out.

As the sun began to set, she ran back to her dormitory, slid the curtains hanging from her four-poster close, lay in her bed, and cradled the box of yellow dress her mother sent her. It wouldn’t have been so bad dancing around like Belle did in something so fancy-sounding like the ball. . . .

She stayed awake until she heard all of her dorm mates came in and fell asleep. Even though she lay there in bed, she couldn’t find the energy to sleep. Against her better judgment, she grabbed the box with her, stepped out of her dorm room bare-footed, and ran out to the second floor girls’ restroom, wobbling as she did so.

A minute or three later she stood — with aching legs — in front of a mirror in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. She put the box on a sink and slipped on the gown, marveling at herself. She put her shiny high heels on the floor, slipping her feet in and already feeling like a princess.

She cleared her throat, preparing to mimic the voice of the beast. “Are you happy here with me?” she said with a deep and gruff voice.

Dusting her dress and holding up her hands as if someone else were holding them, she looked up at no one in particular, pretending she was Belle. “Yes,” she answered herself. She looked out, pretending she was looking at a brilliantly starry night sky.

“What is it?” she said again, copying the voice of the beast.

“If only I could see my father again, just for a moment,” she said in her normal voice. “I miss him so much.”

Finding it hard to deepen her voice, she cleared her throat once more. “There is a way.” She held out her arm, moving as if she were being led by the beast.

“Oh, wait, no, that scene’s just sad,” she said to herself, remembering that that one particular scene in the movie was the time Belle saw her father struggling and had to leave the palace.

She started to sing Tale As Old As Time, as sung by Mrs. Teapot. It was hard to imitate her voice, and she realized with a start that she sounded like Professor McGonagall. She couldn’t help but laugh.

She was wheezing while wiping her tears from her eyes when she heard someone else laugh. She froze.

Peeking into Moaning Myrtle’s stall, she saw no one there, not even in the other stalls. She turned to the door, realizing it was a bit open.

Panicking and not wanting to be caught by Mr. Filch or literally anyone, she dashed out of the bathroom, taking off with the empty box in her arms.

Holy, holy, holy, she chanted to herself. Her legs wobbled once she reached the stairs, and she felt her right food topple a bit backwards. Heart in her throat, she shook her right shoe off, feeling the pain once she reached the landing. She took off her left shoe and carried it with her, running as fast as she could in her yellow gown.

Some part of her admitted that it kind of made her felt like a princess running away to meet her true love. But of course, she batted this ridiculous thought away as she heard Peeves coming her way. Thankfully, she got in her common room just in time and made sure she got inside her dorm right away.

She drew the curtains of her bed shut, changing into her pajamas in her bed instead. She folded the gown gingerly, knowing she wouldn’t be able to use it.

For the second time, she lay there again, not moving and began to cry later on.

When she woke up, her eyes were more than just swollen. Her eyelids were far too heavy that she wanted to stay in bed in her comfortable pajamas but eventually decided that it was best to stand up and grab something to eat. It wasn’t when she stepped out of her dormitories did she realize it was the day of the Yule Ball.

Two of her roommates — both of which were also third years that had been asked out by fourth year boys — had hung their robes and gowns, the other two looking at the dresses with an awed expression on their faces. She pretended to be asleep until they all stepped out of the room, and she could hear the chatter in the common room.

Lying in her bed, she pulled the box back to herself, staring at it with longing. It was a weekend, and she didn’t have the energy to catch up with her assignments and essays, so she went to the library, a book — The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry — in hand. She’d brought it with her for her third year, rereading it over and over for the sake of comfort.

She was seated on one of the far end of a table, reading in peace went all of a sudden something thudded in front of her. She looked up to find one sparkly shoe beaming right at her. Her eyes widened. She’d lost it while running away last night.

Ready to plead for whoever of the staff found it to let her stay in Hogwarts when she looked up and found the same old cocky grin. She made to reach for the shoe when he raised it high in the air, his arm outstretched.

Her chair creaked backwards as she rose up and attempted to snatch the shoe back from him. Madam Pince shushed them from somewhere in the library. She thought it’d be easy to take hold of it just like it was back in her first year when he’d taken the photo of her hamster, but no.

He’d grown a tad, and her face was all wrinkled up in concentration as she tried to grab it from him.

Furious, she pulled out her wand. “Accio shoe!”

At first, she’d worried her incantation was too vague, but then the shoe came off his grasp and hurtled back to her. She toppled a few steps back. They heard Madam Pince’s chair creak backward, too. Before she could say anything, Draco took her by the wrist and led her out.

Once they put distance between them and the library, Draco grinned. “Is the hamster girl playing princess?”

She threw him a dirty look before turning away, shoe in hand.

“You forgot your book,” said Draco. “The Little Prince? How’s this interesting to you?”

He grabbed her wrist again. “What, no insult?”

She looked him dead in the eye, feeling the weight of her eyes dreadfully threatening to droop close. She shook his hand off.

“Have you — Have you been crying?” he asked, squinting his eyes as he studied hers.

“No,” she said defensively.

“Take this and get dressed, you’re coming with me, [Y/N].” He held out the book.

“Where?” She tried not to sound funny at the mention of her name.

“Ball. Do it before I change my mind, I’ll just meet you there ten minutes before eight. I have to get changed first.”

“Don’t you have a date?”

“No, get going.”

[Y/N] thought it would have been better if he picked her up, but she simply obliged and took her book and walked away.

On her walk back to her common room, she couldn’t help but think about how this could all just be a prank. To hell with this, she thought. It’s another one of his schemes.

Going back to her bed, ignoring the excited chatter among her school mates, she swung the curtains of her four-poster bed shut again, stowing the box away under her pillow as she tried to fall asleep.

It was about seven-thirty p.m., which is unarguably a time too early for sleep. She spent her time humming Tale As Old As Time to herself.

She was on the brink of finally falling asleep when someone nudged her shoulder. She jumped back.

“Hello,” said a little girl, frightened.

“What’s the matter?” Rubbing her eyes, she recognized the anxious look on the girl’s face and deduced that this girl was a first year student. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, but your. . . . best friend’s here to see you.”

“Who? Is it Ginny? She could just come up here.”

“Er — no. She can’t.”

“Why not? Is she okay?”

“Because boys can’t go inside the girls’ dormitories.”

“Oh, heavens, was it someone blond?”

“Yes,” said the girl, nodding vigorously. “He told me to tell you to get dressed.”

“Okay, um, thank you. You can go now, dear.”

“Actually, I can’t. He told me to stay here until you get dressed.”

“He told you to what? He did not just — you know what? Come with me,” she said, rising from the bed and storming out of the room. The first year girl followed close behind, although reluctantly.

She trudged up to the blond boy sitting on the couch, his back to her. She smacked the back of his head. “Bullying first years again! You’re so low! And you’d even dare to pra —— I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else!”

Goodness, she thought as she kept apologizing to the fifth year girl with a short haircut. The older girl scowled at her, leaving the couch as the people around them sniggered. One laugh stood out from the rest: Draco stood not so far away, his fist held up to his mouth, trying not to laugh.

When she approached him, he cleared his throat. [Y/N] dismissed the first year girl, who scooted away hurriedly. “Why aren’t you dressed?” he asked, gulping in an effort to forget about the girl she’d just smacked in the head.

“You were serious?”

“‘Course I was serious. Still can’t believe you smacked her, though.” He was about to wheeze again when [Y/N] pinched his neck. “Ow! What?”

“What are you playing at?

“What am I playing at? What are you playing at? We have eight minutes left, get dressed now!”

“Okay, why —”

“Go!” he pushed her back, urging her to run back to the room and frantically open the box. She took off her shirt and threw it on the bed. It was a mess, but once she had stripped off, she slipped the gown on in a hurry.

Seeing she’d forgot to put on the first petticoat, she raised up the skirt of the gown before pulling the petticoat down to her body. It was messy, but it would make the gown a lot better. There was one more petticoat in the box, but she decided it’d make the dress far too poofy and bulky.

She had no mirror, so she had no means of seeing what she looked like. She could only hope for the best. The only solution she could think of in terms with her hair was to tie it up.

Straightening her gown, she went back to the common room. It was already deserted except for the scattered hand mirrors and combs. She resisted the urge to pick up a mirror or do so much as look at her reflection for she feared what she may see.

Exiting her House’s common room, she found Draco turned away from her, straightening his collar and cufflinks.

“Let’s go,” she said, walking right past him.

“Woah, woah, woah, wait.”

“We’re late, right?”

The day was full of unlikely things happening, but this one had to be the most impossible thing that could happen — but it did happen: He looked her up and down in a way she knew she hadn’t been looked at before, just as he knew he hadn’t looked at anyone the way he was doing in that moment. There was an equal amount of certainty and bewilderment it was hard to determine which one was more dominant.

“Goodness, this is a prank, isn’t it?”

“What — no! Just. . .” He leaned forward, putting his hands on her waist and turning her away from him before pulling the hair tie gently. “Take your hair down like that.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yes, and now we are good to go.” With that, he offered his arm, which, to his relief, she took. He led her to the Great Hall. Unsurprisingly, they were one of the last ones there.

“Come on.”

“Wait, what do you think?” She pulled away a bit for him to look at the dress. “Is it creased?”

A second or two (or even five) passed, and cheers erupted from inside before he could respond. “Er — let’s go,” he said, letting her go in first.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

It was good so far, if she said so herself. The Great Hall was almost unrecognizable with its brand new decor and different glow. It was like something out of a fairy tale book. Like the Beast’s castle!

She was busy admiring everything when Dumbledore finished talking and music started playing and Draco put his hand on her waist.

“What?”

“Dance.” She did not respond. “You do know how to dance, right?”

“No,” she admitted.

“You seemed like you knew what you were doing in the bathroom.”

“What?” She asked, having not heard what he said from the loud music and cheers. “I can’t hear you!”

“Good! Just follow my lead.”

They moved into the floor they’d walked on before, taking on something one may call tender as one by one, each pair began to join in the dance. She looked around to find synchronized dancing all around her, and yet they were still standing somewhere amongst the moving crowd.

“We’re not following their dance.” He let her hand rest on his arm, and she immediately recognized what dance they were taking on instead.

Suddenly, she was Belle, and he was the Beast, striding along an empty golden ballroom instead of a crowded and snowy one. The Weird Sisters weren’t there, only a teapot and a teacup somewhere in the room, the teapot singing a song she knew by heart. She was aware it was only her imagination, but it was everything she could have asked for and more and she hated that she did not mind it was with the stupid ferret boy. If anything, it was just like how she imagined it would be.

She could’ve sworn she heard a hum originating from him. She looked up at him, the first time she’d stared into his eyes this long the entire night.

“Are you humming Tale As Old As Time?” she asked, panicked of what he may have seen or heard in the bathroom.

“Mhm,” he answered, continuing on humming. “You should, too.”

She did. And soon enough, they were dancing a dance and singing a song different from what everyone around them. Nobody was watching, and so what if there was?

“Are you happy here with me?” said Draco in a gruff voice, grinning.

“You heard — you heard me?” she managed, her face going entirely red from the memory of her talking to herself in the bathroom while imitating the Beast’s voice.

“Don’t worry, I thought it was cute.”

“Right, being caught talking to yourself is cute and not at all mental.”

“You know, I’d make a really good beast.”

“Really?” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know. If anything, you’re more like Gaston. You know, full of yourself and stuff.”

Draco laughed. “Give it a break, I had the decency to take you to the ball.”

“So, are we friends now?”

“Friends? That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

“Well, you know, like a truce or something. Like an agreement that we’ll hold all fire because we both benefit on something.”

“What benefit do I get?”

“The luxury of not being hexed if you promise not to hex me as well.”

“You’re asking too much,” he said.

“Come on, like a ceasefire.”

“Ceasefire? I like the sound of that.”

They both chuckled as the music stopped as did everyone else. “Hey, it’s time to eat!”

She let go of Draco, not noticing it took a while for him to take his hand off her waist as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

“You’re going already?” asked Draco, hoping she wasn’t.

“Well, yeah. I have to eat, you know. Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Draco absentmindedly, shaking his head. “Of course.”

To his dismay, however, she was dancing with Seamus Finnigan when the song started playing. He pretended to be busy fixing himself, buttoning and unbuttoning his collar when she caught sight of him. She smiled, and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

All he could do was smile as Seamus led her away, [Y/N] laughing at something he’d said.

I’m a lot funnier than that Finnigan guy, he thought. As soon as this came, he shook it away and went to the tables, taking a tart from one of the plates.

The night stretched on and soon some were seated and eating while others were still dancing. [Y/N] was one of the few who was seated, taking a bite of a pasty.

“Having a good time?” asked Draco, moving closer to sit next to her as he grabbed the same pasty from the table and eating.

“Yeah, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said, smiling.

“Yeah, well, you’re a last resort.”

[Y/N] wrinkled her nose, rolling her eyes. “Way to ruin the moment, Malfoy. Okay, wow, this tastes really good.”

A minute passed until they both finished eating what they were holding. [Y/N] turned to Draco, leaning her elbow on the table. “Hey, Draco?” she started, studying him from a respectable distance.

“Yes?”

“I hope you don’t die.”

Draco threw his head back in laughter at this random comment. “What? Why would I die?”

“Because,” she started grimly, “the average lifespan of a ferret is five to ten years max, would be a shame if you died at twenty-four.”

“Ha-ha, your attempt at humor is funnier than your humor itself.”

“Pfft,” she scowled, crossing her arms.

The song started playing again, and Draco made to stand up, but Seamus presented himself in front of her, holding out his hand. Draco sat back down, not letting anyone notice his shoulders had slumped.

Before taking Seamus’s hand, [Y/N] turned to him, and his heart lurched.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, beaming right at him. “I really appreciate it.”

As he watched Seamus lead her to the dance floor, he couldn’t hold himself back from frowning. Right, he thought to himself, still looking her way. If you appreciate it so much, then why’d you go gallivanting around with some tosser instead of me?

Shaking this thought off, he cringed at himself and decided to just take another pasty. He told himself he was just hungry as he watched Seamus spin her around.

V. Write a Message: June 26, 1998

The seventh years were holding a party in the Great Hall. Most people who attended were fifth years and above and of course, the seventh years themselves.

[Y/N] sat right next to Pansy, who was signing a page on the autograph book.

When Pansy put her quill aside, she didn’t hand the book back to [Y/N]. Instead, she flipped a few pages back until she landed on a particular page that captured her attention. She let out a giggle. “Hey, he signed too!”

“Yeah, he made a pretty big deal about it.”

“Wait, are you gonna get Blaise to sign this as well?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, I’ll do it for you. Be right back.” Without a second of waiting, she brought the book with her and walked off to where Blaise was sitting. [Y/N] couldn’t see from afar, but she could tell they were grinning at something. Probably Draco’s answers.

[Y/N] walked over to an empty seat to grab a sandwich, carrying it with her on her way to where Pansy and Blaise were seated.

“I can’t believe he really went for it! I mean, I just thought it was some —” Pansy elbowed Blaise, and they both spun around to find [Y/N] eating a sandwich, looking at them with curious eyes.

“May I have the book back?”

“Yes, you may,” said Pansy curiously, exchanging a glance with Blaise. “But before we do, have you read Draco’s entry?”

“Er — no?”

“Okay, before you answer, I want to tell you something but you promise not to tell him.” But before [Y/N] could answer, Pansy forced her down on the bench, leaning in to whisper something, Zabini looking back and forth, guarding. “D’you remember the Yule Ball?”

“Yeah! It was great, and —”

“He took you, right?”

“Yes, but it was all —”

“Platonic? Not really. Wait, how was it with Finnigan?”

[Y/N], who was not seeing the direction of the conversation, shook her head. “Listen, I really just want to get my friends to fill the —”

“How was it?”

“Well, he blew it, I guess?” said [Y/N]. The other two sniggered, but she caught the sense that it might not have been because of her joke. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“How’d Draco ask you to the ball?”

“I don’t remember.” Wrong. If there was one thing she remembered vividly, it was when the person she considered the bane of her existence took her to a place she longed to be. “He said I was his, and I quote, ‘Yeah, well, you’re a last resort’ when I thanked him for taking me.”

“Did you ask him what he thought of your dress or something like that?” asked Pansy.

“Yes, but why’s this impo —”

“Okay, before I let you go,” she started. “Here’s an important piece of information before you act on what you may read on the book: I was his date to the ball but he cancelled last minute.”

“Wow, he’s horrible,” laughed [Y/N].

“Eh, not really, I was and am with Zabini anyway. So, do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Frankly, no.”

“Merlin, it means he ditched me for you. Now, here’s your book.” Pansy handed it as promised, sealed shut. When Pansy realized [Y/N] was still analyzing everything she pat her on the shoulder. “Alright, take your time.” The two walked away, sniggering. [Y/N] didn’t know if it was a good thing or not.

She prepared herself for the worst just like she always did as she sat back down and flipped through the pages until she reached the page Draco signed on.

Scared of what she might find, she closed it shut. Panting, she proceeded to distract herself by having others sign the autograph book. She could’ve sworn she glimpsed Draco walk by, his hand hidden in his robes.

Once the autograph book was filled with random entries, she flipped through countless filled in lines. But then it was hard to avoid already — she’d reached Draco’s page. She slammed it shut, stuffing it into her bag as she spent the entire time talking to the graduating students.

At some point, she caught Draco’s eyes from the other end of the Great Hall. Pansy and Blaise were right next to him, but it all seemed to blur out as they remained standing, gazes burning into each other. He looked like he was waiting, and she looked like she was hoping for something.

To her surprise, his face did something unfamiliar — smile. It was strange on a face of someone whose default was a scowl or a frown, and she’d only seen that thrice since her third year. It was like an annual thing, seeing him smile, and she hated to admit that she did not like the thought of this being the last one.

She smiled back out of . . . want. Can’t she just smile because she wanted to? Her eyes were hurting, but she didn’t want to blink.

The moment broke, however, when a tall Gryffindor seventh year walked by, holding a broomstick and by the time the student had passed, she had looked away already, leaving Draco staring intently.

Even in her room, she refused to open the book, fearing what it may contain. She’d been tempted thrice during the night; one when her roommate let out a loud snore, one when her arm ached, and one when. . . curiosity knocked. She didn’t open the door for it. Instead, she forced herself back to sleep.

The next day came quicker than ever. She was the late to wake up, seeing that all the beds were already empty, occupants ready to leave. Rubbing her eyes, she stood up and forced herself to get herself together.

An hour or so later, she was already in one of the train compartments, her arms wrapped around a fox plushie. [Y/N] knew full well she had to read the autograph book eventually.

“Don’t be scared,” she whispered to herself as she flipped through the pages until she reached Draco’s. [Y/N] blinked once.

He’d filled it all normally just like her other friends did until she reached the part where it was asked how long he’s been friends with the owner of the book. He’d written, ‘We aren’t. Just kidding, we became best friends around September 1992.’ This was not at all true, yet [Y/N] laughed nonetheless.

There was also a question asking to describe himself in one word. He’d written ‘genius.’ She tried to read all the other sections he’d filled in, but she couldn’t help but feel anticipated about the short message.

Taking a deep breath, she flipped the page to find something written in the middle. She squinted her eyes to read it.

“I have reasons to believe that ‘let’s go’ is not an appropriate answer when a girl asks about how she looks. It has come to my attention that I have not yet answered your question, ‘What do you think? Is it creased?’ and that I owe you at least that. I think you looked what fairy tales would call a beauty, and you still do. Yes, it’s creased. Don’t fret, I think it was charming. Sorry for hexing you. And as for the Cotton-Eye Joe disaster you keep on insisting I did, all I have to say is: I’m a genius. Make of that what you will. Anyway, I read The Little Prince over the summer after my fourth year and I’d like to apologize for undermining your taste in books. Your taste in men, however, is quite questionable. I knew right from the start he’d blow it with you. That being said, I’d like to go out on a limb here and—”

And what? [Y/N] thought. She flipped through the pages, searching for a continuation but found nothing. She thought back to two days ago. He seemed pretty sure he was finished writing, didn’t he? Shutting the book close, she made to stand up when she spotted a rose from the corner of her vision, dancing just outside the door.

A blond boy was peeking from the side, and showed himself when her eyes widened. He slid the door open, holding out a very red rose in his pale hands.

“And give you this rose,” said Draco in a gruff voice. “Fall for me or I’ll die, Belle!” he added with a dramatic whine.

“Hilarious,” she deadpanned as Draco entered and sat sown the seat opposite her.

“It’s also a reference to the little prince’s rose.”

“I know,” she said.

Draco put the rose down. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it, don’t you?”

“All I have to say is,” she started, setting the book aside, “you, Draco, are questionable. Make of that what you will.”

[Y/N] picked up the rose, taking its fragrance. If she just closed her eyes, she could imagine she was in the ballroom again. But this a lot better than being Belle — she was [Y/N], every bit of a beauty as Belle was, and this tight compartment was just as magnificent as the grand and vast space of the Great Hall.

“Also, about the Cotton-Eye Joe thing,” she started. “Based on your poorly made clues, it’s you, isn’t it?”

“I did tell you that I’m a genius.”

[Y/N] stomped on his foot, grinning. After he finished feigning hurt, he leaned back on the chair, his arms resting as he spread it wide.

“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”

“You know, I was about to suggest you write to me next school year but the prospect of you sending me another howler makes me shudder.”

“Come on, I was trying to get you to notice me.”

[Y/N] flushed, turning away from him and looking out the window again. Draco cleared his throat and chuckled awkwardly.

“I’m questionable, huh?” he finally asked.

“Very,” she answered.

“So, you mean. . . ?”

“I mean.”

“Good,” he said. “D’you know how long I’ve been pretending to still be doing prefect duties outside?”

She laughed. “What? Why?”

“Because you were supposed to read it yesterday and I thought it would’ve been a lot more romantic so I was worried you’d read it in your room already. You’re maddening, you know that?”

“Romantic?” scoffed [Y/N]. “I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.” He stood up from his seat to sit down right next to her. “More than you know.”

A/N: Peanut Butter HhsbdhsJSHD OK SORRY I HAD TO it means pure blood 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ ok that’s all goodbye hehdja

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