Never Tickle a Sleeping Draco

I don't have time for unimportant drivel.

[d--l--malfoy]

Does everyone spend every second of their spare time in Diagon Alley?  It's impossible to buy even walk down the street without running into somebody.

[nemruti-deactivated20160620]

HARRY POTTER HISTORY MEME: one family [1/1] → Malfoy

Malfoy is the surname of a wealthy pure-blood wizarding family, and one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They live in Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England. Most of them attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and were traditionally sorted into Slytherin.

[d--l--malfoy]

A. WHY MY LAST RELATIONSHIP ENDED.

Mixture of the war and my lack of desire to be clung to. 

[d--l--malfoy]

DHJKLM!

D. HARDEST THING I’VE EVER BEEN THROUGH.Well there was a war that I went through.

H. DO I SMOKE/DRINK?I drink on occasion but not to excess... Usually.   

J. WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN I GET OLDER.I wanted to work in potions research at Mungos but I doubt anyone would hire me now.

K. RELATIONSHIP WITH MY PARENTS.It's good.  My mother and I are a bit closer than my father and I are but he's more reserved with his affection. 

L. ONE OF MY INSECURITIES.That I'm not good enough. 

M. VIRGIN OR NOT?

No, of course not.

[d--l--malfoy]

Do it.

A. WHY MY LAST RELATIONSHIP ENDED.

B. FAVORITE BAND.

C. WHO I LIKE AND WHY I LIKE THEM.

D. HARDEST THING I’VE EVER BEEN THROUGH.

E. MY BEST FRIEND.

F. MY FAVOURITE MOVIE.

G. SEXUAL ORIENTATION.

H. DO I SMOKE/DRINK?

I. HAVE ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS?

J. WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN I GET OLDER.

K. RELATIONSHIP WITH MY PARENTS.

L. ONE OF MY INSECURITIES.

M. VIRGIN OR NOT?

N. FAVOURITE PLACE TO SHOP AT?

O. MY EYE COLOUR.

P. WHY I HATE SCHOOL.

Q. RELATIONSHIP STATUS AS OF RIGHT NOW.

R. FAVOURITE SONG AT THE MOMENT.

S. A RANDOM FACT ABOUT MYSELF.

T. AGE I GET MISTAKEN FOR.

U. WHERE I WANT TO BE RIGHT NOW.

V. LAST TIME I CRIED.

W. CONCERTS I’VE BEEN TO.

X. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF (…)?

Y. DO YOU WANT TO GO TO COLLEGE.

Z. HOW ARE YOU?

[simply-harrypotter]

The Olive Branch ; Draco + Harry

There’s nothing else to it. He simply needs to suck it up and do it.

Harry stares at the wand in the tiny mirror cupboard of the ground floor toilet. No one ever uses this toilet, considering there are perfectly good ones for he and his roommates to use upstairs. Even still, Harry had cast a concealment spell on Draco Malfoy’s Hawthorne wand in the event someone gets curious as they make an emergency bathroom break.

Staring at the simple piece of wood, Harry has to wonder why he’s taken over a year to return it to its rightful owner. Thanks to breaking the Elder Wand, Draco’s wand is useless as a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. Given he’d become master of it after wrestling it from the Slytherin’s grasp, it may not even work for the other man as it once did. Yet Harry must admit to himself that a large part of him simply didn’t want to grand Draco a reprieve. The git doesn’t deserve his wand back after all the wrongs he’d done against he and his friends. Surely he can get on just fine without it. So far the blond haired prat hasn’t made any attempt to reclaim his possession. He may not even want the thing.

Harry knows it’s useless to hold on to a petty childish grudge. It was thanks to Draco and his mother, Mrs Malfoy, that Harry was successful at defeating Voldemort. He owes them life debts for it, no matter how he tries to spin it to himself. Even Draco’s father assisted in the initial arrests of Death Eaters and active supporters, though Harry doubts Lucius did so with any honest repentance for his crimes. Even if he did do it to save is own arse and try redeeming his family if only marginally, it was something. Harry can’t just ignore something.

The former Gryffindor snatches the wand from its resting place, gripping it with the determination only one from his house could possess. It’s now or never. It’s better to be a year too late than never doing right by the Malfoys at all.

The trip to Wiltshire is without incident. In the back of Harry’s mind he knows he could be doing other things with his time. Like tracking potential leads on the whereabouts of Romain and his pack. Trouble is, he’s come up empty so far and considering this is technically a day off for him, Harry needs to do something to make himself feel useful. This plan of his has to suffice.

Harry strides through the gates of Malfoy Manor, not without difficulty. The last time he was here, he had to listen to the screams of his best friend as she was tortured by Draco’s aunt. No doubt Hermione would be greatly perturbed if she knew of his visit to this particular home but he’d chosen not to inform anyone of his intentions. It wasn’t like he’d thought very long about it before leaving.

The white peacocks seem to be missing from the lawn. The manor itself feels empty, despondent. Harry finds himself at the front entrance and knocks, half hoping he doesn’t get an answer.

[d--l--malfoy]

The wards around Malfoy Manor had always been the best available for a private manor.  The family had always prided themselves on that, each member adding layers onto whatever the prior generation had created.  Over the years they'd created a spiderweb of spells dating back to Armond Malfoy when he first acquired the house.  

Voldemort couldn't use some of the eccentrics of the past generations and took apart most of the wards, the protection falling around them like a house of cards.  Some of the original wards remained but they had to be reinforced.  It was one of the first projects the family had tackled once their 'visitors' had left.

The wards allowed the masters of the manor and their few remaining house elves to know when someone set foot onto the property.  Draco refused to scramble up to make himself presentable for whomever it was again.  When his old housemates visited they saw exactly what they wanted to see no matter what he decided to wear.

Draco could hear the front door open after a tentative knock and could hear the muffled voice of his elf, Lolly, welcoming the visitor.  He heard the soft pop outside the library door before Lolly’s head poked in.  “Young master Malfoy has a visitor.”  

Draco sighed as he stood up, he marked the place in his book before he followed the elf out of the room.  Usually the elf would pop out as soon as the message was delivered to prepare tea for the guest but this time she seemed… Nervous.  Her tiny hands were wringing the silver material that was once a curtain but now acted as a makeshift dress and her eyes were glued to the floor as if waiting for someone to begin lecturing her.  

Draco froze when the entryway came into view.  Potter.  Why the hell would Potter be here?  Draco tensed slightly as he walked over, spine straightening slightly as he neared the other. He wished that he’d had some sort of advanced warning so he wouldn’t have to greet Potter in worn out jeans and a plain black shirt.  It wasn’t awful but it was obvious that he put forth no effort.  

“What do you want Potter?”  He asked before turning to Lolly.  “That is all.”  He told the elf, he doubted Potter would want tea and he didn’t want Potter to stay long enough to sit through those types of formalities.  

Lolly bowed low, the tips of her long ears brushing slightly onto the ground before she apparated away leaving him alone with Potter.  

[d--l--malfoy]

robes like armor ⋆ draco and theo

[loosenthenott]

"People like Greengrass and Zabini, you mean," Theo mused aloud, adhering to the social categories he sorted his peers into. He presumed the opposite; most people like he and Draco would throw their money at a tailor or shop window to look good for a single evening. “You assume correctly. Greengrass’ dress code matches nothing in my possession, so I’m burdened with the responsibility of matching her expectations,” he said, with a roll of his eyes. “Have you made any choices yet? Or were you only taking measurements?”

A long, apathetic look toward the glinting coins in Draco’s hand conveyed his lack of concern in being repaid for his timely intervention — they would be recirculated into the economy with the rest of his pocket money — but any amount of concern would validate the other blonde’s haughtiness. The older, more prestigious families clung to their crumbling pedestals as tightly as they could in their shame and utter disgrace. The Malfoys are a slippery bunch, Thaddeus Nott had once told a much younger Theo, whose undoing is their own arrogance. There was no reason not to believe this as anything but absolute truth, for both brothers in arms had eluded punishment for their crimes during the First War. But this character flaw didn’t have to be fatal.

"Certainly. Your capability has never been called into question… yet,” Theo remarked wryly. He extended his right hand, facilitating the exchange of wizarding currency on the condition that Draco had to take a step forward in order to complete the transaction. Small sacrifices of the ego made for significant steps in progress. “So, will this be your second major public appearance in two months, then? Impressive.”

[d--l--malfoy]

Draco nodded at the assumption of who he was talking about.  Daphne was always ready for any occasion as was Blaise.  He knew that from experience, hell he used to invite people over for tea to see who would struggle to be ready in time.  "Black Italian cut."  Draco told Theo with a dismissive shrug.  Suits were always fairly easy to shop for, even with his scrawny frame a good Italian suit would accentuate his thin frame to his advantage. 

Draco smirked and took a small step forward to give Nott the money.  It was a familiar game of give and take, power plays that amounted to frustration on both sides.  "I've made plenty of appearances but they were to smaller groups."  Draco said calmly.  He wasn't about to admit to how long he stayed on his own but he did visit with those of importance before coming back out into society.  "Society needed time to settle a bit before I decided to rebuild the family name." 

Draco looked Nott over slowly.  "What about you then?  You were never exactly the type to enjoy group events."  Draco said as he took a deep breath to make sure the most of the panic had subsided before forcing his shoulders to sag slightly in a more relaxed posture. 

[laurelwreathedserpent]

Merlin, Malfoy, keep saying things like that and I may just think you actually like me. Thank goodness you said most - should I ask about the negatives?

I’m surprised Pansy isn’t on your arm tonight.

[d--l--malfoy]

I wouldn't ask about them in a public setting, especially considering this is your party.  I'd hate to ruin it for you, considering you're the type to return the favor.

I figured she'd make it here on her own.  I don't need to rush into every aspect of society.

[laurelwreathedserpent]

in vino veritas | daphne + draco

[laurelwreathedserpent]

Daphne accepted the cup of tea offered by the wretched servant politely though disinterestedly. She wasn’t really here for niceties and the longer she stayed in the sitting room - which needed some work, if she were perfectly honest - the more antsy she felt. The girl wanted to be away from everything, like she had after the war, except this time the situation felt far more personal and held far more weight, and she really couldn’t disappear for two months this time. That said, surely Draco would understand her desire to escape society.

The blonde entered the room, and for not the first time the image of a mangy caged lion came to her mind. He didn’t move with the ease and sleekness that came natural to the Zabini heir, or with the quiet, unintrusive gravitas Nott did - it was graceful and yet not. Malfoy had always been a mess of contradictions.

"I must say that my plans were rather unexpected to myself as well," Daphne offered in greeting, voice polite. She really didn’t feel like arguing with another person. "Did your elf not tell you?" But maybe that disapproving tone was habit now; she couldn’t help it. "I’m planning on visiting an Italian Winery and would like you to accompany. It’s just a day trip, though I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer."

[d--l--malfoy]

"My elf did tell me your little plan but I must admit I didn't quite believe it."  Draco told her as he sat across from her.  He thought about making some other comment about how he was too busy to go out or about Daphne being truly desperate if she was here but that had to be the case....

Draco looked her over once before he nodded once.  "Fine, let's go."  Draco told her simply.  Sure purebloods would gossip and ruin reputations here and there but in the end they were the only ones who would support one another.  Daphne could be grating on the nerves but he had intruded on her for tea.

"If you are planning on staying for a few days, I'll need to have one of the elves send a bag over."  Draco said as he stood up.  He could manage a few days in Daphne's company and knowing their history dealing with one another there would be time apart. 

[d--l--malfoy]

robes like armor ⋆ draco and theo

[loosenthenott]

Wearing formal attire to a party hosted by Daphne Greengrass? That wasn’t the sort of mail Theo expected amongst the various expenses and Prophet subscriptions, in fact, it almost seemed absurd that he was on the guest list and given the opportunity to bring a guest of his own along. There were firsts for everything, he supposed, and now he was resigned to an afternoon of getting his measurements done — if anything, he might as well attempt to look as debonair as his father once tried to mold him into. Money and time were no issue, especially after setting Zabini on his merry way. As far as the guest part — well — that would have to wait until his attire was straightened out.

The bell in the shop twinkled its jovial tune as he entered, his steely blue eyes surveying his surroundings. There was a mother and a daughter trying on silky dresses to his left; to his right, the commotion concerning a familiar face and his personal tailor stole all of his attention. Theo was one for letting a scene play out until its big finale, but the signs were too obvious to outright ignore — some intervention would be needed on Draco’s behalf, to quell the tension between the players. And, not to mention, it was a gem of an opportunity to make important conversation with a childhood friend.

The smile that seemed so effortless was a Slytherin’s brand of genuineness. Even Daphne and Blaise would marvel at its charm and the power it held. “Give us a moment, please,” said Theo, the words saccharine. The tailor was still clutching at her measurement ribbon, affronted and stunned silent by his friend’s poor manners. Anyone that had an eye for details that laid just under the surface could see that the last measurements had provoked that reaction, ergo the need for space. Theo could provide that space; he pressed a few gold coins into the palm of the tailor’s right hand and guided her away with an almost-touching arm around her shoulder. The threat was removed, but Theo’s presence offered up a new set of challenges for Draco.

The blonde glanced over the Malfoy heir, noting the subtleties in his appearance since their school days and last encounters — surely, Draco made it nigh impossible to tell those differences apart. As such, it wasn’t very difficult to surmise why the both of them had decided to visit the upscale tailors to fashion a new look. “Which woman are you trying to impress today, Draco — Greengrass or your mother?” he said, smirking in spite of himself. This was his attempt to draw attention away from the earlier incident, and to extract the details of their small circles. Socialite gatherings weren’t not for Theodore Nott, but he and Daphne’s warmth phase warranted his acceptance of her invitation lest it show his indifference toward the purported careers of his swankier peers. “It’s fascinating that we should meet under these circumstances, no?”

[d--l--malfoy]

Draco glared slightly at Theo as the tailor was led away.  He turned away from the scene and tried to compose himself before facing his old friend.  Theo would be insufferable over this.  Most Slytherins would.  Leading the tailor away wasn't an act of goodwill.  Theo wanted something and it was just a matter of figuring out what. 

Draco pulled out a couple of galleons to give to Theo.  Bribery was a familiar concept to him and that was at least a part of this he could repay.  Games just seemed exhausting and pointless.  Sure, Theo could be a useful ally to have but Draco didn't need him.  The Malfoy family was getting along fine. 

"I suppose.  I have to admit, I expected most people to already have an outfit for Daphne's little soiree.  I assume that's why you're here."  Draco said dismissively.  He held out the coins.  "I can handle myself."  He said coldly.  It wasn't in the Malfoy nature to allow people to just step in, hired help yes but they were supposed to be the ones pulling the strings.

[laurelwreathedserpent]

Well we’ve always known that I’m nothing if not respectable.

[d--l--malfoy]

Well I can think of a couple other words to describe you as well.  Most of them positive. 

[d--l--malfoy]

A Cover Well Worn ✧ Draco & Ron

[weasley-rb]

"Maybe we should experiment with you this time,” he said, snorting. Malfoy hadn’t even seen a fraction of the total time before Harry and Hermione whisked him off to Hagrid’s. If it were to be fair and square, Draco would have to endure it until it wore off on its own. “I know some counter-curses, of course. You seem like you read loads. Don’t you know counter-curses? Everyone knows that you aren’t supposed to use spells you don’t know, or don’t know the counter-curse to.” It was simple logic; he’d known that since childhood.

The redhead responded with a silent ahhhh, continuing the trend to understand what was really being said without directly addressing it. His Mum had done everyone a favor, including Malfoy. Wishing death upon one’s own flesh and blood was more or less impassioned speech; when he had told Harry or one of his siblings that he was going to kill them, that was pure hyperbole. It wasn’t literal. “Spineless cowards, you lot. Don’t even have the bollocks to do it in the front! Not that I’d expect any different, I suppose,” Ron replied, with an eye roll. “Better to die a martyr than a coward, I think.” He could never respect Draco, not even for all the penitence in the world. The blonde was not a man of courage and integrity, nor could he be. The opportunity was long gone.

"Must be bloody nice," Ron muttered. It must be nice to hide out and do whatever he wanted, without responsibility or bills to pay. Probably never had callused hands, either, though they were certainly dirty. Whatever Draco was going on about wasn’t all that interesting to him, especially with literature and its fancy words and few pictures to go along. It was certainly something that would appeal to Hermione, minus the whole ‘written by a stupid purist’ footnote. After the whole Dobby incident and the whole bigotry thing, Ron couldn’t help but be convinced that there were ulterior motives at work. Did Draco Malfoy really want to help her career by pointing her in the direction of wizarding history? They both knew that reading books alone couldn’t educated someone not raised exclusively in the wizarding world. "Give it here, Malfoy. Some of us have this thing called a job and I’m sure that you’d prefer me out of your way, yeah? I’ll make sure she gets it,” he said, impatiently.

[d--l--malfoy]

"With the way you perform spells I don't think that anyone could successfully reverse them.  Unless you've grasped a more subtle use of magic since school."  Draco told the red head as he examined his nails for any trace of dirt.  "But then again your trio always seemed to thrive when using magic none of you understood."  He said thinking of the various ways the trio had tormented people.  Potter with his little stunt in the bathroom, Granger with the bloody coins and contracts, and Ron himself with the slugs. 

"If you saw someone attacking you regardless of the side you'd fight back.  Better to attack quick or the battle would have been even more chaotic than it already was.  Not all of us are idiotic enough to rush head on into confrontations blindly.  I'll leave that to you and your friends."  Draco told Ron with a disdainful huff. 

It wasn't nice.  Living at home was rather dull in reality.  Living in a house where he watched people be tortured and killed for fun.  "Always good to develop new potions and spells."  Draco said honestly.  That was the one good thing he could take away from the whole bloody mess of a situation.  He held the book out for Weasley to take.  "Fine but I doubt anyone would dare fire one of the saviors of the wizarding world."  Ron seemed like the type who would use that excuse to get out of work at least once in his life and it was true.  Weasley could work anywhere or do anything he wanted. 

[laurelwreathedserpent]

Yes, well this is a respectable gathering - I’m sure it’d been a while since you’ve been to one of those.

[d--l--malfoy]

It has been awhile since anyone hosted something respectable enough to tempt me out of the house. 

[d--l--malfoy]

It has been far too long since I've been required to wear a suit for anything. 

[d--l--malfoy]

Draco was tired of trying on suit after suit with no positive results.  The tight fitted suits like he preferred made him look gaunt and showed off how little he was still eating while the larger suits made him look like a child playing dress up in his parents closet.  None of his old suits fit and he didn't want to see the pitying looks when he brought them in to be resized.  Fresh start. 

He waved one of the employees over and asked about a custom order, it was fairly short notice but he still had the money to splurge here and there.  He was not going to Daphne's party looking like he didn't belong especially with all of the effort she would most likely put into it. 

He stood in the store as he was measured and tutted at by some overbearing employee.  It wasn't her job to mother him; she was being paid for her work and nothing else.  Draco ignored the bell as it chimed signaling another customer and chose to stay still, he wanted to be done as soon as humanly possible. 

Draco's breathing became shallower as he felt the tape measure go around his neck.  The air wasn't coming and he couldn't take the feeling of vulnerability.  Draco pushed the woman away, ignoring the way she stumbled back a few steps as he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. 

[laurelwreathedserpent]

in vino veritas | daphne + draco

After she’d gotten Blaise to his place, Daphne had gone home and taken a bath. A long, luxurious bath with perfumed bubbly foam scented with eucalyptus and mint - they were known to relieve stress and with the Zabini heir’s latest misadventures the brunette was in dire need of the relief. All those damned letters to the editor weren’t written frivolously - the Greengrass girl genuinely believed her words. Werewolves were threats to society; and now it seemed she’d lost her friend to the sickness.

Once the fleshy pads of her fingers had turned wrinkly - nothing proper moisturizing lotion wouldn’t fix - the pureblood stepped out of the bath, calling out for her elf and ordering the creature to clean the tub and floor. Her hair was still damp, so while waiting for her tresses to dry, Daphne wore her favorite soft, cotton nightie and situated herself at her desk to pen a note to the only person she trusted with Blaise’s rather delicate situation. Then, after brushing her locks and braiding them, she settled herself into her large four poster bed and turned out the lights. The letter would be sent in the morning (though she was mildly annoyed that the turmoil Zabini had caused wasn’t allowing her to fall asleep as quickly as she normally did.

When she woke, rolling her shoulders in frustration because it had been a fitful sleep, Daphne knew exactly what to do next. Her motions were mechanic: Send Theo the letter. Inform Pere of the plan to host a party on the Summer Solstice. Slip in a comment about picking up wines from Italy. Sigh and agree to take an appropriate companion to ensure the safety of her pure blood. Dress in a summery, loose fitting dress, those shades she liked so much and a summer hat. And finally apparate the brief distance to Malfoy Manor, trendy purse on her shoulder, and knock on the door.

"I’m here to see Draco Malfoy," Daphne said, blinking as she realized an elf had opened the door. "I’d like him to accompany me to an Italian Winery." 

[d--l--malfoy]

Draco had a fairly decent routine worked out.  He would wake up, plod downstairs in his pajamas, proceed to eat breakfast, and then he would go work on potions or some other magical experiment.  Simple.  A lack of work that some people would dream of but he could only find the routine dull.

It was a shock to hear the quiet pop of one of the elves coming into the room.  He turned slowly his pale eyes narrowing dangerously.  They were given explicit instruction not to disturb him unless there was something important.  Out of anything that could make the elves disturb him a visit from Daphne was last on his list of guesses.  He looked down at himself and his slightly worn pajamas before he instructed the elf to take Daphne to the sitting room downstairs and serve her some tea.  The room wasn't entirely finished but he was sure Daphne would make her suggestions. 

Draco walked briskly up to his room and threw on a pair of trousers with a shirt that only slightly hung off of his thin frame.  He did not need her judgement.  He looked in the mirror and ran a hand through his blonde hair, he would need to get that cut at some point but for now there was nothing to be done. 

Draco made his way to the sitting room and slumped into a chair gracelessly.  "I must say your company is rather unexpected."  Draco said as he felt a sense of deja vu at the situation.  If only the Malfoy gardens were up to snuff.  

[moragxmacdougal-blog]

❝I must say--

[moragxmacdougal-blog]

"I doubt you could tell it was written by a muggle or not, merely based on the verbiage. I have a small collection of intriguing literature, magical or not." She shrugged- the pureblood had never been taught equality, but still the thought of keeping the muggle writers works on the same shelves as her celebrated wizard tomes made her skin begin to crawl. It wasn’t as though they were worthy.

"I suppose it’s the content. Muggle writers are wonderfully imaginative. It’s actually quite adorable- I suppose they must have some direction for the creative parts of the human mind since they can’t channel it into magical ability. That still doesn’t explain the meaning of the word ‘dystopia’, however. From what I’ve gathered it’s some sort of bleak, desolate realm.”

[d--l--malfoy]

"That's interesting.  She's probably a squib or related to someone magical in that case."  Draco said, musing on the thought of how a muggle writer would be able to get good enough to impress a pureblood. 

"You could always stoop to asking someone with... less of a magical upbringing."