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Sade Olutola
ellievsbear
@theartofmadeline
Peter Solarz
shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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Mike Driver
PR's Tumblrdome
RMH
Kiana Khansmith
Claire Keane
Today's Document
Misplaced Lens Cap
EXPECTATIONS
sheepfilms
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@acciotrashpile
Every time someone mentions H.G. Wells I have to readjust to his pronouns because I accidentally internalised the canon of a 00s Syfy show where he's secretly a woman.
He doesn't come up often enough that it stops happening, and I fear one day I'll need to discuss him and slip up. I'll pull my classic did you know move but it'll be "facts" from a long dead TV show about cursed objects.
Wow. The patience, kindness and calm communication skills. Outstanding.
From raindovemodel
This made me cry. I wish all situations could be handled as perfectly as this
I just want to point out the core of what the diffuser did in this conversation
They recognized that the mother was also expressing a vulnerable truth about herself - that she felt like a bad mother because her child was expressing gender feelings she wasn’t equipped to help with - and met her where she was, a concerned parent with limited information - to point her where she should be heading, research and resources.
Im going to make more of an effort to stop reflexively pushing people away when they express biases and make more of an effort to hear the underlying fears when i can
“it’s easier to love ourselves when we feel loved as ourselves”
damn that is so powerful though
“it’s easier to
love ourselves when we feel
loved as ourselves”
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
@radley-writes
Peer review
I passed peer review! Thank you. I think these are important skills for everyone to learn. x
person trying to get out of a timeloop but they keep getting brutally murdered by the other person stuck in the timeloop, who is having the most amazing vacation of their life and refuses to leave
i’m trying to find some love for wriiting again so please send me some prompts if you want! i want to start writing again and finish my damn ravenclaw!draco fic but i. can’t. get. excited. about. writing. thanks in advance y’all~
i am working on chapter three of the ravenclaw!draco fic sorry i am trash hopefully i will finish today idk man idk
is that my sweater
ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 // THANK YOU ALEXIS FOR THE DIALOGUE PROMPT
“Is that my sweater?”
Draco froze, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He could feel his face getting hot as he turned around to face Potter. He caught Potter staring at his chest and his breath caught. He spent a moment taking in the view of the man before him, and then cleared his throat and brought Potter’s attention away from the shirt and up to his face.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t sully myself with your clothing.”
Potter raised his eyebrow and it shot up under his messy hair. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.
“Oh really? Malfoy. It’s got the stain on it from the tea I spilled two days ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I must have spilled something on it during lunch.”
He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the spot and whispered a Scourgify under his breath.
“See? Never happened. And your sweater never would have held up against my magic, it’s far too inferior.” He smirked up at Potter, daring him to question his story.
Potter laughed and shook his head.
“Whatever, Malfoy. Just don’t keep it forever.”
He turned and left the office, and Draco could hear him saying something about it not even being that cold under his breath.
///
“Malfoy, I really need my sweater back. Hermione signed us up to go to this Ministry Ball and it’s kind of the nicest shirt I own.”
Malfoy scoffed, not looking up from the papers on his desk.
“That sweater can’t be the nicest thing you own. It’s dreadful. And I don’t have it. You must have misplaced it.”
Harry closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. It had been weeks since his sweater disappeared and he’d seen Malfoy wear it several times. This was maddening.
“Bollocks, Malfoy. I know you have it. I don’t believe you for a second. You were the only one with access to the office when it vanished.”
Malfoy finally met Harry’s eyes.
“And what would I want with your sweater?”
“I don’t know, Malfoy. Maybe you cuddle with it at night. How am I supposed to know?”
Malfoy’s mouth set in a line as he broke eye contact, his eyes darting around the room.
Harry watched Malfoy’s cheeks turn pink, just like every time he brought up his sweater. He fought the smile playing at his lips as he watched how flustered Malfoy got. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining how flustered he could make Malfoy, how he wanted to be the one to be the one to bring the blush to his face, to , He shook his head.
“Listen, I don’t care why you have it. I just need it back.”
Malfoy opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He looked back down at his paperwork.
“Maybe a house elf threw it out thinking it was rubbish. You probably left it somewhere else in the building, I don’t know why you’re accusing me.”
Harry rolled his eyes and got up from his desk, muttering about how much of a pain in the arse Malfoy was as he left the room.
///
Draco stood in front of his closet, staring at the soft green sweater hanging there. Fine, he had stolen it from Potter. At the time, it was just to get the office tidied up. He was so tired of the perfect Harry Potter leaving their shared office a mess and expecting no consequences.
And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back.
The first night he brought it home, he had found himself holding it to his face, inhaling deeply the strong, musky scent of Potter. He could almost pretend that Potter had been here, that he’d shared Draco’s space.
But that would never happen.
They may be getting along alright now, but he would never be forgiven for the things he did during the war. Before the war. To Potter. To his friends. To innocent people.
Draco wasn’t proud of who he had been, and he had been working hard to be a better person, but his Dark Mark was a reminder that he would never be able to escape his past. And Harry would never be able to see past that.
And he shouldn’t.
///
Harry sighed. Hermione had taken him out to get a new outfit for the Ball, and all he could think about was how Malfoy was still holding his sweater hostage. He pictured Malfoy wearing it at his flat, curled up with a book, a cup of tea by his side. He took a shaky breath in. This wasn’t helpful. He had to stop pining over Malfoy. It wasn’t healthy.
“Harry, come try this on.”
Harry rolled his eyes. How many outfits was Hermione going to force him into?
“I don’t understand why he won’t just give me the damn sweater back. I shouldn’t even be having to do this.” He muttered and Hermione patted his shoulder.
“You needed some new clothes, anyway. Just let him keep it.”
“But why?” Harry sighed again. “It doesn’t make any sense. He spent years tormenting me and suddenly he wants to snuggle up in my clothes? Is he trying to torture me or something? I don’t trust him.”
Now it was Hermione’s turn to sigh. She turned to face Harry and put her hand on her hip.
“First of all, that’s a lie. You trust him with your life or you wouldn’t go on those missions with him. Secondly, that’s not who he is anymore. You know it and I know it. Hell, even Ron knows it. And thirdly, that’s the fifth time you’ve brought up that sweater today. Maybe you’ve got something you need to work through?”
She raised her eyebrows at him, staring him down. Harry blushed and looked at his feet.
“Now. Try this on. We need to find something that fits.”
///
“Listen. You can keep my sweater. Hermione replaced it. So.”
Draco stopped walking and looked over at Harry.
“Really? Now is when you want to bring this up? We’re about to enter a house where there’s been reports of some really dark magic happening and NOW you wanna bring up the sweater?”
“Well, Hermione said I needed to work through some things and that’s what I’ve been doing. And just now I’ve come to the conclusion that you can keep it.”
Draco ran his hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact with Harry.
“So. Now we can go in and take care of this. Right, Malfoy?”
Draco nodded, and turned back to the house, pulling out his wand. He cast a quick Muffliato, and they slowly approached the front door, Harry close behind Draco. When they reached the porch, Harry did a quick scan for traps, and not finding any, Draco whispered an Alohomora and quietly opened the door.
Draco was the first into the house. And then suddenly there was darkness.
///
Harry watched Malfoy cross the threshold and immediately start to crumple to the floor. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be happening. He had checked for hidden hexes, he couldn’t detect any. He never missed them. Had he been too distracted? Maybe bringing up the sweater had been a bad idea, because it had brought that image back to his mind, of Draco wearing it at home. He let out a strangled cry as he watched Draco hit the ground, and sent off a Patronus for back up.
“Draco!!”
No response.
He just lay there on the ground, completely still.
He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. This was all Harry’s fault and all of a sudden he couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move.
And then suddenly he was standing on the porch, just outside of the door frame. He didn’t remember moving. He scanned again for any kind of wards or spells. Nothing.
So either Draco entering the house used up any spells, or they were undetectable.
Harry took a deep breath and took a step inside the house.
///
Draco awoke in a strange bed, Harry asleep in a chair by his side.
He blinked several times and tried to sit up. Looking around the room he recognized it as an intensive care unit at Saint Mungo’s. What had happened? How did he get here?
He remembered being on a mission and talking about that stupid sweater and then…
He looked over at Harry, he was leaned over the hospital bed, his face buried in the crook of his arm. Draco shifted a bit and noticed his hand was warm. He looked down and Harry had it in a tight grip, even in his sleep.
Draco cleared his throat loudly, and Harry shot up in his seat.
“Draco? Merlin, you’ve been out for days. They couldn’t figure out what spell had hit you! We thought you were never going to wake up, I-”
He stopped as Draco glanced down, squeezing his hand.
“Oh.” Harry pulled his own hand away and into his lap, his face turning red. “I just. Um.”
Draco couldn’t fight the grin from spreading across his face.
“Who said you could let go?”
((this isn’t done, and i will be making a new post when i am finished with the whole updated fic, but i wanted to post something new so enjoy this tiny bit))
“Is that my sweater?”
Draco froze, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He could feel his face getting hot as he turned around to face Potter.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t sully myself with your clothing.”
Potter raised his eyebrow and it shot up under his messy hair. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.
“Oh really? Malfoy. It’s got the stain on it from the tea I spilled two days ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I must have spilled something on it during lunch.”
He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the spot and whispered a Scourgify under his breath.
“See? Never happened. And your sweater never would have held up against my magic, it’s far too inferior.” He smirked up at Potter, daring him to question his story.
Potter grinned and shook his head. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned and left the office.
hi i finally finished alsdkjfsdj HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY lmaooo. also pretend this is from ferret-face because i can’t submit from my sideblogs okay okay
///
Narcissa cradled the head of her baby boy as she gently bounced him up and down, threading her fingers through his fine blonde hair. His face was relaxed, mouth slightly opened as he drooled on her shoulder, snoring quietly. Narcissa hummed softly. Her life changed when she had Draco. She had never loved anyone as much as she loved this beautiful, sweet, perfect boy.
///
It was six in the morning on a chilly April day when Narcissa was awoken by a small hand on her cheek. She opened her eyes sleepily and smiled when she realised it was Draco, his mouth open wide, his giggles filling the room. She tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. He reached up for her hand, gripping it tightly with both of his own. Narcissa squeezed back, tugging him closer, pulling him into the bed. It had only been three years, and Draco had taken over her whole heart. Draco snuggled up to her, burying his head in the crook of her neck, and they both drifted back to sleep. This was everything she could had ever hoped for.
///
Draco’s eighth birthday started with dozens of owls dropping parcels off at the Manor. His eyes lit up when he opened one up and it was his very own broom. He shook with his excitement, bouncing up and down as he begged to fly it. And how could Narcissa say no to that face? She took his hand and led him outside, reminding him to only try to fly low and stay close. He nodded and took off with ease, his broom listening to him from the start. Narcissa watched with a grin on her face as Draco flew in small circles, his head thrown back with laughter.
///
When his Hogwarts letter came, Draco ran first to his mother. His quick footsteps echoed off the walls of the Manor, his laughter like music to Narcissa’s ears. He had been waiting impatiently for weeks, ending each day with a frown on his face and complaints on his tongue. Why hadn’t Dumbledore sent him his letter yet? He was magic after all. When he turned the corner and ran into Narcissa at full speed, she scooped him up into her arms and twirled him around, kissing the side of his face. Draco couldn’t stop chattering, the excitement bubbling up in him and spilling over. Narcissa just smiled and listened, unable to get a word in.
///
Narcissa got a letter from Draco in December of his second year. All he did was complain about how stupid Harry Potter was, and how everyone thought he was perfect, but he wasn’t. Apparently their duel hadn’t gone well, and Draco was taking it badly. This wasn’t the first letter Narcissa had gotten like this. She chuckled to herself as she piled it on top of the others, all complaining about Harry Potter. How he wouldn’t be Draco’s friend, but he was friends with everyone else. How Dumbledore had given him house points for breaking rules, and those points cost Slytherin the House Cup. How he flew a car to Hogwarts and nobody seemed to care. Narcissa wondered if she’d ever stop hearing about what Harry Potter was doing at school.
///
Narcissa stood outside the closed door, trying to swallow her sobs as she heard Draco screaming. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t her son’s war. He shouldn’t be punished because her husband had failed. The screaming got worse and Narcissa turned away, holding herself up with the wall as she tried to escape. She couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t help her baby boy. She couldn’t listen anymore. She choked on her tears as she collapsed on the stairs, screaming to try and block out the sound of Draco’s cries. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to have a better life. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair.
///
Narcissa walked slowly towards the body in the dirt in front of her. The Dark Lord at her back sent chills down her spine. As she crouched down to check that he was dead, she noticed a slight movement. She leaned down, her heart racing, as she whispered in Harry Potter’s ear, asking about her son. Her heart burst when she found out he was alive, he was still in the castle. She let out a shaky breath, tears stinging her eyes, as she stood and turned, pronouncing him dead. She would get her son back, Harry Potter would save the day, because by some miracle he still fighting, and her precious Draco wouldn’t have to live this life anymore.
///
Narcissa and Draco sat at the dining room table, their meals untouched in front of them as Draco stumbled over his words, unsure how to get them out. His mother reached out and grabbed his hand, urging him to relax. He held back tightly and forced out how he and Harry had been seeing each other. It was Harry, now, and he would really like it if his mother respected it, and it just happened and… Narcissa stood up and Draco stopped talking, his hands making his way to his lap, twisting together there, his eyes boring into the food in front of him. It was silent for a moment, before Narcissa made her way around the table, wrapping Draco in a tight hug and kissing him on the top of his head. All she could think about was how Draco could finally be happy again.
@ferret-face STACY OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! THANK YOU!!!! it’s adorable and gives me feels from our Narcissa headcanons! 😭 this is so great!! i knew you have nothinggg to worry about ❤️
hi sorry if anyone is waiting for posts (more of the ravenclaw!draco fic, etc) i’ve just moved back to the states three weeks ago and i started working again like two weeks ago and have been really busy all the time. i’m trying to get stuff written, i swear lol.
Drarry Prompt: (8th year) Where Draco ends up holding Harry's hand every time he is scared. This comes as a surprise to both of them.
Harry gaped at Malfoy, their fingers laced together. Malfoy was staring blankly ahead, his mouth twisted in a frown. Harry was too in shock to say anything. Too confused to move. The had been in Potions, somehow paired up together again, working on their Draught of Living death, when out of nowhere, his hand had flown to Harry’s, gripping it tightly. Harry had been mid-sentence, explaining how they could have used this potion during the war. He found himself unable to finish, his thoughts lost completely. He couldn’t focus with the warmth of Malfoy’s hand in his own. Harry could feel the other boy’s heartbeat, pulsing quickly between his fingers. He swallowed.
“…Malfoy?”
///
Draco shook his head roughly, as if trying to expel the memories from his head. His eyes focused around him and he realised he was sitting in the Potions classroom.
“Malfoy…”
He turned his head, a sneer forming on his face.
“What, Potter? Can’t figure out a simple potion? The instructions are right in front of you.”
Potter looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, as he raised their joined hands. Draco spluttered, a soft blush forming on his face. He ripped his hand away like it was on fire.
“Taking advantage of me? Just wait..” He trailed off. “Nevermind.”
Neither of them spoke the rest of the class,
///
It wasn’t until a Defense Against the Dark Arts class a couple of weeks later that it happened again.
They had been standing next to each other in the semi-circle, waiting for the Boggart to approach. Everyone already knew how to cast a Patronus, but their new Professor had decided it was worth going over again. Draco glanced over at Potter and caught himself staring. He frowned. Draco didn’t know how they kept getting stuck working together. Some inter-house unity bollocks. McGonnagall had decided that after the war, the students who returned needed to get along better and be more accepting of each other. Some Hufflepuff nonsense, as far as Draco was concerned.
Suddenly, it was his turn to face off with the Boggart. He gasped as it shifted and morphed in front of him, and all of a sudden Potter was standing before him, a cruel smile twisting his face. He reached for Potter’s hand, gripping it tightly.
///
Harry couldn’t move, save for his eyes darting back and forth between Malfoy and the imposter standing in front of him. He vaguely registered that Malfoy was clutching his hand tightly, but he couldn’t focus on that. Why was he Malfoy’s boggart? And then the Boggart Harry started talking.
“I can’t believe I saved you. I should have let you die in that fire. Should have let you die on that bathroom floor. Should have finished the job then.”
Harry noticed Malfoy start shaking, and then realised his own was shaking. He looked down and saw they were holding hands again. When did that happen? He tried to let go, but Malfoy was holding on so tightly he didn’t stand a chance.
“You weren’t worth saving! You just went right back to join Voldemort, then slinked away with your family, your tails between your legs. What good have you done since?”
Harry shook his head and stepped forward, catching the attention of the Boggart, as it changed again, this time into a Dementor. Harry sighed, shaking his head. Of course it was still the same, he still couldn’t get over that fear. The fear of fear itself, as Lupin had said.
“RIDDIKULUS”
The room was silent as the Boggart moved on, and Harry tugged on his hand that was joined with Malfoy’s.
“You know, I don’t regret saving you, right?” He said quietly.
Malfoy finally met his eyes and shook his head slowly, after some time dropping his hand to his side.
///
One week later, walking with Potter and Pansy in between classes, Draco was pushed against a wall. He turned around to face his attacker and it was some Hufflepuff Eighth Year. He didn’t know his name, but he knew his face. They shared most of their classes together. He didn’t even have time to reach for his wand before the larger boy had his out and pressed against his chest.
“You know, nobody would mind if I just hexed you right here. You shouldn’t have come back. No one wants you here.”
Draco closed his eyes and flinched, not able to defend himself, preparing for the worst.
///
Justin Finch-Fletchly? When had he developed such a mean streak? Harry started to protest, stepping closer to Malfoy, his hand reaching for his wand, when suddenly it was full of something. He looked down. Malfoy had grabbed his hand. Again. He couldn’t help the smile that started to form on his face, before he brought his attention back to Justin.
“You and I both know what will happen if you do that, and I don’t think you want to fight me.” He started, magic flaring in his veins. Justin’s eyes went wide, and he stepped back, shaking his head. “Whatever, Harry. He’s not worth it, anyway.”
As Justin walked off, Pansy turned to Malfoy.
“I can’t believe you were just going to take it, You didn’t deserve that! Everyone knows the position you were put in, they basically put your entire trial in the Prophet!” She sighed. “Come on, Draco. Let’s go to class.”
As they turned to walk away, Malfoy tugged Harry along. Either he didn’t realise he was still holding on, or he didn’t want to let go. Harry didn’t mind either way.
///
Eighth years from every house sat huddled together in their shared common room. It was Halloween and somehow Pansy had convinced Draco to participate in the movie night they were having. Some Gryffindor had brought a muggle movie in and Granger had figured out how to make it work without a… television? Whatever that was.
He somehow found himself on the couch, sitting next to Potter, Weasley on his other side. It didn’t bother him as much as he expected.
///
Harry could feel the heat of Malfoy’s body, his leg pressing against his, but for some reason he didn’t want to move it away. Seamus had brought in Nightmare on Elm street. Harry had heard his cousin talking about it with his friends once, but he had never been able to see it. Thank Merlin Hermione was clever and fixed it so everyone could watch.
He looked over at Malfoy, He had started growing out his hair more, it hung loosely around his face, kissing his cheeks. Harry blushed. He did not think of Malfoy and kissing in the same sentence. He didn’t.
He couldn’t focus the entire movie. He knew there was something going on with this guy going into dreams, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Malfoy. He was so present next to him, he couldn’t stop thinking of their thighs pressing together, their feet resting against each other. He was so preoccupied, he almost didn’t notice when Malfoy’s hand found his, gripping it tightly. He was too busy watching Malfoy’s face, watching his eyebrows shoot into his hair in shock. He swallowed and turned to face the movie, unconsciously stroking the other boy’s hand with his thumb.
///
“Um.. Malfoy?” Harry finally got his attention, after standing nearby for a few minutes, unsure what to say.
“Yes, Potter? Here to harass me?” He looked up from his book and raised his eyebrow at Harry.
“What’s going on? I mean, with the hand holding? Hermione is making me talk to you. I told her to mind her own business, but then Ron and Neville ganged up on me, too. Um.”
Malfoy scoffed.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you should go.”
“I… don’t mind.” Harry struggled to get out. “The hand holding, I mean. I just don’t understand. You hate me.”
Malfoy just stared at him. Harry stood there for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded sharply.
“Right, then. Right. Okay.”
He turned and rushed out of the library.
///
Draco caught up to Potter near the Great Hall.
“Wait!” He called out, coming to a stop a few feet behind him. “I… I don’t know. The hand thing. It just happened. And then again.”
Harry turned and frowned.
“So, what?”
“I mean, I don’t hate you.” Draco forced out. “I don’t think I ever did, not really. I think I was just angry. And jealous. And, well. I don’t think Pansy understands. What I had to go through. What you went through.”
Harry tilted his head to one side. Draco thought he looked like a confused puppy, and shoved down the thought that it was slightly adorable.
“But, why?”
Draco sighed.
“I’m not sure. That potions class. It’s like I was back in the war. You were talking about it and then I was there. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. And Defense? That boggart-” Draco clenched his jaw and looked away.
Harry stepped closer.
“It’s okay, you know. To be scared?”
Draco frowned.
“I’m not! Why would I be scared, Potter?”
“Draco…”
His head snapped up at Harry’s use of his name.
Harry held out his hand and Draco took it, a slow grin forming on his face. Together, they walked into the Great Hall.
(now available on ao3)
this is an open invitation to send me prompts
It’s the bitch of living as someone you can’t stand
Draco rolled over in bed and winced. His arm was so sore, throbbing in pain, in time with his heartbeat. It was that evening that the Dark Lord had branded him, marked him made him his own. What could he do but agree? His family and his life were at risk. But now, laying in the dark, the severity of his action suffocated him. What was he supposed to do, know? Kill Dumbledore? Is that really what he was asked to do? Being part of the Inquisitorial Squad, catching Potter and his lackeys... That was one thing. This was something else entirely. This was someone’s life. Sure, he was an old coot, but he didn’t deserve it any more than his family did. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t! But he had to. He didn’t have a choice. He had to kill Dumbledore. He had to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He had to.
He swallowed and groaned, staring at the Dark Mark. He never wanted this life. Spoiled? Sure. Arrogant? Some might say. But a murderer? He never wanted this. It wasn’t fair. Why was he being forced to fight in this war he didn’t want to be a part of? But if he didn’t...
He tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway. He tried to imagine himself in a different life, somewhere where he could be happy. His mum, his father, him. All he wanted was to be happy. He didn’t want to be this person. And yet, here he was, being forced to carry out some madman’s crazy demands.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to dry it, but only leaving wet streaks behind. He never thought it would come to this. He knew his father had some strong beliefs about Mudbloods and Muggles, but he never expected this. He never thought he would be dragged into it.
He scratched at his arm, making his breath catch in his throat. He wanted the Mark gone. Not only did it hurt, but it was hideous. His skin was red and swollen, and that ugly snake made him wish he wasn’t in Slytherin.
Draco reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a vial of Dreamless Sleep. He had started brewing it when You-Know-Who had taken up residence in the Manor. He pulled out the stopper, and downed the whole bottle in one go. Stuffing his hand under his pillow, he tried not to think about it, tried not to think about what he was going to have to do, and hoped that sleep would overtake him soon.
He prayed he wouldn’t wake up.
The Impossible, Chapter 2: The Rock
(Chapter 1) /// (Also available on AO3)
Christmas break was… interesting. Draco had tried to avoid Potter, but they had ended up spending the evenings together. During the day, he would go for walks in the hallways, study in the common room, practice his potions. He didn’t need to; Severus had been coming over to the Manor since Draco was very young, teaching him all sorts of things, making sure he’d be prepared for classes. But he found some sort of solace, some sort of relaxation in sitting in the empty Potions classroom and trying to perfect his Sleeping Draught. It was a second year potion, but he wanted to get it right.
But at night. At night, he was lonely. At night, the deafening quiet of the Ravenclaw tower felt like it was closing in on him, choking him. So he took Potter up on his offer. He wrote a letter, telling him that if Potter was so lonely, then Draco could take pity on him and play some games. He would meet him in the library after dinner.
Me and @ferret-face did a sprint for 500 words. She wrote for Draco and I wrote for Harry. Here is my piece.
The ground felt cold and wet against his back. Harry was not sure if it was from the rain that had fallen, or blood left over from the battle but he dare not look. Noise was all around him and it made him want to cover his ears. There was people screaming and crying, jeering and laughing, and some noises that Harry could not even describe.
There was once sound above all that Harry heard the loudest. In reality, it was quiet and was impossible to hear with all of the other commotion.
“No…” was all he heard from the one person he wished would not have to witness this.
While Harry lay on the cold ground, pretending to be dead after Lord Voldemort hit him with a final killing curse, Draco Mafloy’s heart broke and Harry heard it like it was the loudest noise around him.
He wanted to run to him and tell him that it was all a lie, that it was all a diversion. But if he did that, then Voldemort would attack the onlookers right then and there in a fit of rage. Harry needed this moment of surprise and not even Draco Malfoy’s broken heart could tear him away.
Voldemort tried to silence the crowd, but his magic would not hold. Harry’s hand twitched in a mockery of him trying to reach out for Draco as he heard the telling sounds of a soft sob.
“No.. No don’t cry,” Harry thought. “I can’t keep going like this, please don’t cry.” He was glad that everyone was more focused on the threatening figure of the Dark Lord than they were of him. If anyone suspected… if anyone could see him breathing….
“Draco come here,” Lucius called. “Come with us.”
“No,” Draco called back with a certain strength that seemed strange on him, but not unwelcome. “No. I’m staying here. I’m not going back with… with him. Not after what Harry did for us.”
Again, Harry fought the urge to run to him and hold him in his arms. “You do have some Gryffindor in you after all,” He thought to himself. A small smile appeared on his face.
“Look at that. Your son the blood traitor. Why am I not surprised? Your family has been nothing but a disappointment,” Voldemort sneered at the cowering couple. Voldemort raised his wand, a fateful and familiar green curse lit up at the tip. Just as he was about to speak the words, Harry jumped up from his spot on the cold ground.
“No,” He shouted with all of the courage he could muster. “You won’t have him. Expeliarmus!”
But he was too late.
The spell had already left the tip of Voldemort’s wand and was headed straight for Draco. A scream from Draco’s mother was the only warning he had before Draco was thrown back into the rubble of the school.
“DRACO,” Harry cried, but he could not go to him. Voldemort was on him in an inst(Stopped here because i won :) )
okay so we didn’t talk about it at all before the wordsprint so it doesn’t match up at all BUT WHATEVER
As Hagrid entered the courtyard, Draco’s breath caught in his throat. That couldn’t be Harry. It couldn’t be. Why would he do such a dumb thing? That stupid, reckless, Gryffindor… Why would he go into the forest? He had to have known all that was waiting for him was death. He choked back a sob, trying to remain calm. They were all fucked, now. Every last one of them. Everything he did, saving him at the Manor, the Room of Requirement. It had all been for nothing. And Harry. Harry was gone. He would never know how Draco felt. He would never know that after all these years, he finally realised he wanted to be something outside of his family. He wanted to do some good. And it was because of him. He never knew how to say it before. But he wanted to tell him. After this bloody war was over. This war that none of them should have been forced into. This wasn’t the lives they should have had. He felt his legs give way beneath him, as he slumped down on the concrete step. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His heart was racing. What was he going to do, now? Students were clamoring around him, everything was in chaos. And all he could do was sit and stare at that ugly half giant holding everything he finally let himself want in this cold, miserable world. And it was dead. Gone forever. And then the Dark Lord was there, taking over his attention. Calling him over. He looked at his parents, tears in his eyes. They were all he had left. He didn’t want to go back, he wanted a new life. But. But he somehow found his legs, and shakily walked across the courtyard, never able to pull his gaze from Harry’s broken body. And then Neville was talking. And he couldn’t hear a word he said. He couldn’t focus. All he knew was his mothers hand in his, and Harry’s empty body, not moving, never moving again. And then. And then there was movement. And then Draco could breathe again. Because all of a sudden, Harry sprang to life. The crowd came to a roar, everyone shouting. Draco didn’t stop to think. He just acted. He screamed Potters name, running across the courtyard, feeling like he could fly, and threw his wand to his outstretched hand. Maybe now Harry could see all the good he could do. Maybe now he could see that he could make the right choices. Maybe he stood a chance. Laughter bubbled in his throat as Harry wielded his wand. Maybe he could be happy.
originalobjecttheorist replied to your post “The impossible is so awesome. It's kinda like a story I'm writing but...”
Not at all. Don't worry. I don't have the monopoly on that idea
no no, i know! i just know it sucks when people have like the e x a c t same idea as you, even when it’s unintentional! just wanted to make sure i wasn’t accidentally writing the same story hahahaha
The impossible is so awesome. It's kinda like a story I'm writing but at the same time completely different. I love it.
omg thank you so much!! i was really hoping people would like it and not just me, haha. i hope it’s not too similar, i’m def not trying to copy anyone or anything!! it just came to me the other day and i can’t get the idea out of my head, i’m obsessed!!
The Impossible, Chapter 1: The Mistake
(Also available on AO3)
"Hmmmm... I can see you want Slytherin, but is that really where you belong? Is that really what your heart desires? Cunning, yes. Ambition, sure... But you're also full of intelligence and wit. And though you don't have it now, I can see your potential for acceptance. Yes, Ravenclaw would be much better suited for you, much better for you in the long run. I know you won't be happy with me now, but just trust me. You'll be better off. Better be..."
"RAVENCLAW!" The sorting hat bellowed, as Draco Malfoy sat in shock beneath it. Draco Malfoy, whose entire family had been sorted into Slytherin. Draco Malfoy, whose father had spoken to him not six hours ago, who told him he needed to make his family proud. Draco Malfoy, who was now frozen in fear, all because of that one word the Sorting Hat just called out.
