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@darklordherself
Artist: Marie-Claude Marquis
No one: Me: *takes weird car picture* 😂 #vans #weirdpics #aesthetictryhard https://www.instagram.com/p/B5F4K0ShkdXnXhu9lvAwg7XMeAgslB1uHqIHm40/?igshid=fhkd19h9qcyq
the hp wiki apparently treating the events of cursed child as word of god canon is why i have trust issues
#HPbattleships
Title: Time Well Spent. Author: thedarklordherself Pairing: Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter Rating: G Length: 6191 Genre/Content: Slow Burn, Realizing feelings Warnings: None Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: Eight years after Hogwarts, two paths cross, one case gets to be solved. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19850356
The French man bowed deeply to Pansy making her roll her eyes. Her "mother" cleared her throat to remind her to stay poised. She didn't need telling; her parents have drilled it into her since she was 8. She plastered on a fake smile, one that managed to make the boys swoon.
"I have brought you…" the man turned towards his house-elf, snapping his fingers impatiently as the little creature struggled to carry a box. Pansy frowned, having a distaste of people who treat house-elves terribly. They helped raise her, so the respect of the creatures, in general, would never falter.
"A gift, Mademoiselle."
"You shouldn't have," Pansy answered, getting up from her chair and walking over to the elf. She kneeled to the little creature's height and held her hand out as the gift was handed to her.
"Thank you." Pansy bowed her head, the house-elf bowing its head in response. He smiled back at her.
"You're welcome, Mademoiselle, Archie hopes you like it. Archie went all over the world to find it."
Pansy smiled, the translation potion working perfectly as she thanked the house elf in French. She stood back up now, curious as to what it was, the weight of it was shocking. If it were what Harry freaking Potter is after, she would have fun with it first before handing it over. Just because her parents agreed to help the Ministry out to save face, doesn't mean Pansy has to oblige so quickly. She caught eyes with the other wizard, seeing the shocked expression.
"Don't act so surprised," Pansy quietly snapped as she sat down next to her. The older witch chuckled, trying to pay attention to the suitor speaking of what the gift was.
"I'm surprised you can be so nice, Parkinson," they smirked. Pansy huffed, turning back to the man and smiled as he continued to explain Archie's adventure.
"It is a timeless gift; please enjoy. I do hope to see you again," he bowed and turned to leave, clearly pleased with himself. The elf nodded, and Pansy waved, getting a shy wave in return. They waited till the crack of the wizard disapparating happened.
"Alright, hand it over."
Pansy clutched the weighted box to her chest, "Not so fast, I want to see it."
She moved it out of reach from the pair of hands trying to grab it, standing up and shoving the box roughly under her dress, between her thighs. She knew the Auror would never dare.
"Come on, quit acting like a child."
She smirked as her mother's face faded and Harry’s resurfaced. He reached in the dress robes pockets for his glasses.
"Looking good, Potter, dresses suit you."
Harry sarcastically struck a pose, "Better than you in a dress, now hand over the box. I want to make sure it's what we've been waiting for."
Pansy shook her head, "No, it's my gift. Didn't you hear Mr.Pompous say, 'a gift for you Mademoiselle’."
She burst out laughing as she mocked the foreigner's accent, "Saint Potta vants the box!"
"Can we act like adults, for Merlin's sake," Harry crossed his arms.
Pansy crossed her arms, "I want to see it. Better yet, I want to use it!"
She bent and pulled her dress back up, grabbing the box and hurriedly walked away. Harry nearly tripped over the long dress he had on. Lucky, he was able to wear trainers underneath. He followed Pansy out to the gardens.
"If you use it, then I have grounds to arrest you," Harry told her pointedly. She laughed and kept walking. Harry transfigured his clothes from a dress to jeans and t-shirt casual look. He was not about to parade around the gardens in a dress.
"Oh, I know a time we can go to!" Pansy practically skipped to her favourite spot. Harry walked at a reasonable pace, knowing he had no say anymore. It's not like he hadn't used it before, Hermione owned one. They should both be arrested.
"If I take you to one time, will you stop being difficult?" Harry sighed, curiosity to where she wanted to go bloomed before he could stop it. After third year, Hermione took him on various time-travelling adventures during their breaks. He might as well indulge Pansy and reward her for actually obtaining one out the forty-six there were left in the world.
"Define difficult," Pansy smirked.
"I'm serious. We have a long way to go to get all the others."
"You'll take me?" Pansy genuinely smiled like she won a grand prize, "How do I know you aren't tricking me?"
"Because I'm going with you. Think of this as a thank you for helping. I thought we would never get a crack in this case, and now we have the first of many."
Pansy narrowed her eyes but decided not to question it any further, she didn’t want Potter changing his mind.
"Alright, I want to go to the time Granger punched Draco. He denied it ever happened, but Nott insisted it was glorious. I want to see it."
Harry chuckled at the request, not minding at all to take her to that moment. He would have to avoid two sets of Harry’s and Hermione’s versus the one on that day to get Pansy to see one of his favourite memories. Luckily, he had his cloak.
"This is it though, no more time travelling after this." Harry held out his hand for the box, and Pansy handed it over, stepping closer as he untied the bow. Once the lid was removed, Pansy gasped at the exquisite gold time turner nestled on a velvet pillow. This one was the size of a teacup saucer. She had never seen one in person.
"Now, because of some complications I know of, we have to use my cloak."
"Oh, how nice of you, using your precious cloak on me, I feel honoured."
They stood close together, Harry spinning the time turner as Hermione had taught him. Pansy watched as the gardens went through many moons and suns. She was in awe.
"Alright, we are now in 1993," He shrunk the time turner and placed it in the pocket of his robes. "We are apparating outside of Hogwarts. Once there, I can pierce the protection spell, and we will be able to get in."
"Pierce the protection? You sure you can do that?"
"I'm not an Auror for nothing, Parkinson. I can get into anywhere I pretty much well please."
Pansy scoffed, about to make a snarky comment. He grabbed her hand, and she had no time to protest as the pull in her stomach started. They disapparated on the spot.
__
"I can get into anywhere I please," Pansy mocked in a high pitched voice. Harry rolled his eyes as she mimicked him. He started his last known spell to pierce the magical barrier. If this didn't work, they were out of luck.
"Where did you even learn to do this?" Pansy examined her nails, thinking about getting them done after their adventure. Harry let out a small huff, and finally, the barrier opened up like drawn curtains.
"Hurry up," Harry demanded as he grabbed her hand to pull her through. He was not doing that again. Surely, they can manage to sneak into the school just fine with his cloak, use one of the secret passages from the map.
They made it to the stone corridor leading to the path to Hagrid's hut. Harry was trying to remember where he and Hermione came running from, staying closer than necessary to Pansy in case they had to move out of the way. Pansy was getting antsy under the cloak. Harry's body pressed up against her was not what she was expecting to get out of this.
Soon, Draco, Theo, and Goyle walked towards the top of the hill. Pansy held her laugh, the three boys in their fancy clothes. She used to hold them in such high regard, just as they did her. But seeing them again and realising how silly they looked, their wealth making them look ridiculous, made her want to laugh out loud. She wished she could see how absurd she probably looked then as well.
Harry leaned forward towards her ear, "There we are."
Pansy froze, his breath hitting her skin shot an electric current right to her core. She tried to concentrate, the yelling of the third years began. Hermione was jabbing the end of her wand into Draco's neck, the fear clear as day on Malfoy's face was a funny sight to see.
"Don't Hermione, he's not worth it," Ron told her. Pansy frowned as Hermione lowered her wand, not expecting the witch to back down so quickly. That's not how Theo described it, making it seem like the three lions ambushed them. Gryffindor lost points from Professor Snape because of this, the older wizard taking the word of his godson.
Pansy was about to question Harry when Hermione turned away but quickly, spun with a right hook straight into Draco's nose. Pansy burst out laughing, Harry's hand immediately on her mouth, pulling out his wand to bubble them with a silencing spell.
The six students looked in their direction, all frantically scanning the area. Harry pulled Pansy closer, ready to do what was necessary to fix this. Pansy gulped, eyes wide, not moving as young Hermione pointed her wand almost in their direction.
"Homenum Revelio," the young witch walked towards their direction. She had a determined look on her face. Harry tried to bring Pansy closer, even with no more room. He was nervous that young Hermione was investigating.
He kept his eyes on her as she walked past them, into the trees. The Slytherin students told younger Harry and Ron off, threatening to tell their Head of House what happened.
"Mione, let's go," Ron called after her. Hermione looked around and back to Ron.
"You did hear it, right?"
"It sounded like a laugh, but there's no one there," Harry said, looking back towards Hagrid's Hut, "Guys, I think it's happening."
Harry used the moment of their backs towards them to start walking away, keeping Pansy restrained. She followed him backwards, trying not to stumble over his feet. He got them to the stone path, out of sight, removing the cloak.
"We have to leave before we get caught, can you manage to stay quiet? We have to go through the school."
"I can stay quiet," Pansy rolled her eyes.
"Okay, here," Harry pointed his wand at her, she froze from fear reflexively, he saw her tense up. Her body started to disappear as the Disillusion Charm worked its way down from her head to her feet. He knew why she was so nervous. He placed one on himself and folded the cloak stowing it away.
"Let's go." He grabbed her hand and led her towards the one-eyed witch passage to Honeydukes. He figured it was best to be out of the school as soon as possible.
Pansy let out a relieved sigh as they made it back to their time, her heartbeat barely slowing. She hadn't adequately processed that they were almost caught time travelling. Her parents would have been furious to find out that she was breaking various magical laws after they were trying to fix their reputation.
"Are you alright?"
She looked towards the direction of his voice, the charm slowly revealing him. She looked down to her hands and saw that she was coming back into view as well.
"Of course I am," she scoffed, walking away to get a drink to calm her nerves. Harry followed her, determined to make it right for what he did. Usually, Pansy was smooth and bold. The fear that exploded from her and the vulnerable way she seemed to feel as he used the charm on her made him feel terrible. He should have asked before pointing his wand at her.
"I… er, am sorry," he rambled out. Pansy kept her pace, turning into the library where her father kept the harder liquor.
"For what?" she demanded, annoyed that he was following her. Harry fell silent as she stood by the drinks trolley, pouring herself a glass. She paused and poured a second cup. Harry cautiously approached the trolley, grabbing the second tumbler, letting the silence fall further.
They both sat down in the pair of armchairs. Harry wasn't sure how to continue his apology. He knew she was just as scared as he was about being randomly attacked when he was on the run. That time was dark, lonely, cold, and many other horrible adjectives to describe the worst time of their lives to date. He wouldn't have survived without Hermione and Ron.
While his time of being hunted had ended, it was like the baton had been passed to all former followers of Voldemort. It took years for Harry to come to terms with the idea that the younger generations of Death Eaters weren't as all in it as their parents had been. Hermione made him work with Pansy as a sign of forgiveness, assigning him as her family's protection. The Golden Trio was making amends with those they knew didn't have a choice.
Hermione helped Draco land a healer job, Blaise Zabini worked with Bill Weasley, and many other students from their time had a brighter future, despite their parents' actions. The only one they hadn't dared to try to get in good graces with, was Pansy Parkinson. The girl who demanded the school hand Harry over on a silver platter. Harry held a grudge for years.
Pansy held her grudge, mostly out of embarrassment at her actions. But there was no way she was going to tell that to the Wizarding World's darlings. There are only two reasons why Harry and Pansy have crossed paths almost eight years after they finished their time at Hogwarts.
First, there was an incident that involved both Pansy and Draco. They were sent gift baskets to their homes with notes attached signed by the other party. The attacker used the comfort of their friendship, knowing that it would most likely work to use one against the other. Draco ended up at St. Mungo’s after taking a bite of one of the sweets, rendering him on the brink of death.
Narcissa stormed Parkinson Manor, with several Aurors to demand Pansy’s arrest when they stumbled upon a devastated couple instead. Pansy was being treated privately in their home, her parents feared public places with their tarnished reputation. Pansy slipped into an unknown dark potion-induced coma after tasting one of the bottles of liquor from the basket. It took weeks to get her out of it.
Secondly, her father was receiving many letters, inquiries if you will, about his daughter’s standing for marriage. At first, it was innocent. Pansy was receiving various bouquets of flowers, loads of jewellery, shoes and dresses.
Then came an illegal artefact, a time turner, from a suitor who wouldn’t reveal his name but demanded Pansy take the portkey to meet the mysterious man at his home. Mr Parkinson decided to hand over the gift, knowing that working with the Ministry in any way helped anyone’s reputation. It was the first small step to redemption. The Malfoys were doing it, so why not them.
Hermione had learned of the incidents and told Harry that he needed to help them. It took a couple of days, Harry even offering to be Draco Malfoy's protection versus Pansy's, but once Mr Parkinson had told him of the gifts Pansy was receiving for her hand in marriage, Harry reluctantly agreed to work and temporarily live with the Parkinsons.
"It's okay," Pansy finally spoke, half a bottle later. Harry stood and grabbed the bottle, refilling both their glasses.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Harry said softly, tossing back the amber liquid. He was nervous speaking like this. He and Pansy had a rough line of communication. Today was the first time they had managed to work without it being stiff with tension, fear of each other and anger. It only took three bloody months.
"You didn't scare me."
Harry sighed at her tone, "you don't have to act tough all the time, Parkinson, everyone can feel scared. I forgot to ask permission to use a charm on you. I don't like anyone pointing their wands at me unexpectedly either. I know that feeling, not knowing what the other person is going to do."
Pansy frowned and bit her lip to try and refrain from snapping at him. Her cheeks were burning from the embarrassment that Harry Oblivious Potter could tell she had been scared.
"I don't need you feeling sorry for me, Potter. I was caught off guard, I'm fine."
Harry rolled his eyes, realizing that they hadn't made any real progress.
"I don't feel sorry for you, stop acting like everyone is. Grow up."
Pansy glared at him, "I have grown up, it's you who has some growing up to do. You don't know what I had to do to get here. To survive!"
"Don't I?!" Harry quipped, "Wasn't it you who tried getting me turned over? Don't think I forgot for a second what you suggested in the castle!"
"You have no idea what we were going through, what pressure I was dealing with!"
"Pressure? Do you not know who I am?! I've dealt with pressure all my life!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Perfect Saint Potter, can't do anything wrong Potter, Saving the Wizarding World on multiple occasions Harry freaking Potter! You may have been fighting on the other side, but that doesn't mean it was frolicking through a flower field for me!"
"You chose, you decided, you knew what Voldemort was doing, and yet, you acted better than me and everyone else! You knew the consequences!"
"My parents decided for me, you bloody idiot! We had no choice. My father was forced as a pureblood. It was either join or die!"
"You didn't have to try and hand me over; you didn't have to be that person. You made yourself that person." Harry snapped.
"You were the ticket to anyone's freedom. You were the key to my survival, my parents' survival! Draco's, Blaise's, Theo's, every one of his followers who was stuck inside the school to play spy! You were the end of our war. We all were trying to do what was best for ourselves."
"That's where you're wrong," Harry stood up and placed the cup and bottle back on the cart, "I was trying to fight to save everyone, to make sure Voldemort didn't rule the Wizarding World. You were doing what was best for you. I'm not like you. I'm not like any selfish ex-Death Eater. I did what I had to do to save the Wizarding World."
He left the library to his quarters. Pansy's eyes filled with tears as she yelled every profanity she could in his departing direction. It felt like someone used a carving knife to open the wound from the war that had barely healed. She knew it was her fault, but would never admit it. She left to her wing, deciding to only speak to Harry when necessary for the case.
__
Two months had gone by, the pair now having thirty-seven of the forty-six time turners. Pansy was annoyed and tired of Harry being around. Her parents, on the other hand, adored him. Of course, they would end up liking Saint Potter. She wished she could stay with Draco, deciding Weasley would be easier to deal with than Potter. But her parents forbade it.
"There is a man from Bulgaria who invited Pansy to a ball at his palace." Her father said after swallowing a bite of his dinner. The other three looked in his direction.
"Is it wise we go to them, darling?" Mrs Parkinson was looking worriedly at her husband.
"I told him that Pansy would not be going alone and her bodyguard was also tagging along, that way it gives us a reason to bring Harry. He can come as her plus one. If you don't mind, Harry?"
"No, that's perfectly fine. I can have access to their residence. He is one of the bigger targets." Harry became excited. Pansy rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her food.
"Perfect. We leave tomorrow afternoon. I shall have the house-elves get our dress robes ready and new gowns for the ladies."
"Do you mind if I go see Arabella in the morning before we depart?" Harry looked down to his food, awkwardly asking for permission.
"Oh, Harry, you don't have to ask, sweetheart. You can come and go as you please."
Pansy rolled her eyes; You can do whatever you please, Harry, blah blah blah.
They finished their dinner, Pansy leaving to her room to make sure the house-elf was picking something to her liking and not her parents.
--
The next morning, Harry made his way to Pansy's wing, to check if she needed to go anywhere before he took off. Her parents requested he accompany her as often as he could to prevent any incidents.
"Pansy?" Harry knocked on her door, straining to listen for a response.
"What do you want?"
"Uh..er, do you need to do anything before we leave to the ball? I can come back to escort you if you do."
She groaned out loud. It was annoying at this point to be treated like a child, but then she sighed, thinking of getting out of the manor would do some good even if it were to Harry's muggle home. She went to open the door, Harry jumping from the surprise appearance.
"I'd like a new pair of shoes, preferably something I pick out myself. Shall we go?”
“Now?”
Pansy nodded, “your visit won’t be long, will it?”
Harry debated about bringing her along to his childhood home, how small and bland it was compared to her manor. He worried about her judgement. Harry wouldn’t change a thing about his upbringing, appreciating everything Arabella did for him, but that didn’t make it any more appealing to bring a pureblooded wealthy witch to his quaint home. He could hear the snarky comments coming from her mouth. It was like having Draco Malfoy to visit. It sounded like his worst nightmare.
“I’ll behave,” Pansy raised an eyebrow, seeing his silent turmoil. Harry was so easy to read.
“Okay, I suppose you can come. Arabella will probably like having someone else visiting as well.”
They walked to the living area where her floo was. She held out her arm, he linked his with hers, throwing a handful of powder while calling out their destination.
"Harry!"
Pansy was surprised to see a tiny old woman rush to hug Harry. She removed her arm before being caught in the hug with them.
"Hello," Harry hugged her tightly.
"You should have sent me a warning that you were coming. I could have made breakfast." Mrs Figg strolled to the kitchen to prepare tea.
"We already ate, I just wanted to come to see you, make sure you were alright."
"I'm doing just fine, kiddo, I told you not to worry about me."
He watched her movements, sad that they are becoming slower each day that passed. She was already old in age when she took him in, saving him from his neglectful aunt and uncle. His aunt made an arrangement to pay her a stipend to support the separation. Later, Harry learned that his aunt and uncle hated magic, making him appreciate Arabella more. She was a squib, teaching him everything she could from books and lessons from her own parents when they tried getting her magic to work.
"Now, who is this beautiful girl."
"Oh, this is Pansy Parkinson, she is working with me on a case."
Pansy curtsied to the older woman, not sure what else to do. She took the seat next to Harry.
"Just work, you say?" Ms Figg smiled deviously, a rather funny sight for an elderly woman. Harry groaned as she went on about him needing to get married before Death decided to take her to the other side.
"You sure are taking your sweet time, Harry," Pansy teased along, glad that for once, the talk about marriage wasn't centred around her.
"Whatever happened to the redhead? She was a feisty one."
Pansy raised an amused eyebrow to Harry who rolled his eyes in response, "Redhead? Don't tell me you dated the female Weasel?"
"It was right out of eighth year; we dated for a year or two?"
"Thought you and Granger always had a thing," Pansy sipped her tea.
"Hermione is with Ron." Harry corrected her, chuckling, as Pansy isn’t the only one who thought that.
"Oh, the poor dear could have gone with someone smarter than the Weasel."
Harry looked at her surprised; the subtle compliment towards Hermione was unexpected, especially coming from her. Pansy continued talking with Arabella about suitable women for Harry, which became extremely embarrassing on his end.
"Had I known you were looking, I would have helped ages ago, Potter. I know Daphne or Astoria need a husband. Draco is going after one of them, not sure which one."
"As if I would willingly marry into the same family as Malfoy," Harry chuckled, Pansy, joining in. They continued going down the list, Harry rejecting every suggestion. He didn't know who he even wanted; all the women she brought up weren't his type.
"Well, I'll find someone and have father set up the meet and greet. My parents would love to know that you are actively on the market."
"Alright, that's enough talk about that. I just wanted to stop by. I was going to check in on Dudley before taking Pansy to the shops."
Mrs Figg smiled softly, hearing her son tell Pansy that she will deal with another family meeting. She could see it; wonder how long it will take the two of them.
"I will see you later, preferably for dinner so I can feed you again. Pansy, you are welcome at any time."
Harry nodded, Pansy, kissed the older woman's cheek and smiled broadly. They left the house, and Pansy linked her arm through Harry's, expecting to Apparate, but he walked down the stone path, to the other side of the road.
Pansy frowned as she heard a bark from a man on the other side of the door after Harry knocked. She felt him tense up, his arm squeezed hers in response to the angry tones on the other side. Harry shuffled nervously. He hated seeing his aunt and uncle, but they allowed him to see his cousin, poor bloke moved back home after his fiance left him. They became friends once Harry moved in with Arabella across the road, his aunt and uncle only allowing the friendship because they were related. Dudley was the first person Harry ever told about his magic.
The secret was kept, and Harry continued the friendship, since his lovely aunt and uncle decided Harry was nothing like his parents. Little did they know, their son loves everything magical and is dating a witch Harry introduced him to after the heartbreak.
"Whatever you do, just don't mention magic in front of my uncle," Harry warned Pansy, deciding not to say anything, fear pooling in her stomach from whatever muggle monsters were greeting them.
__
"Are we all ready?" Mr Parkinson called out as they all entered the foyer.
Harry allowed Mrs Parkinson to adjust his tie. He was feeling nervous about being caught inside the Prince of whatever's castle. He needed to make sure none of their covers were blown. The real objective was to retrieve the remaining time turners. This Prince was a frequent time traveller, always adjusting timelines to benefit himself.
"Do you mind?" Pansy handed the necklace to Harry, he took it without question and waited as she turned. She bowed her head forward, her hand moving her hair out of the way of the nape of her neck. Harry worked with the clasp; his fingers grazing her skin softly, her skin pimpled at his touch. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the unexpected feeling it brought.
"There you go," Harry told her, summoning her coat for her. She slid it on and linked her arm in his. It was becoming a habit at this point.
"Let's get going." Mr Parkinson pulled out a big old fashioned key, "This will put us right at the castle, so please, mind your manners."
Harry and Pansy nodded, she squeezed his arm, trying to suppress her nerves. She was wearing a time turner to entice the Prince. It was her job to get him to confess his crimes and reveal his collection.
"If you feel any danger…"
"I know to tap on my bracelet, and you will be alerted," Pansy finished for him. They both smiled awkwardly, her father telling them to place a finger on the key levitated in the middle of the four.
Three hours had gone by, and Harry was becoming impatient. The Prince had yet to come and talk to Pansy, which made things difficult. Pansy wanted to leave already.
"Why don't you go dance?" Her mother suggested. Pansy dared to throw a frown in her direction, only to drop it when her mother narrowed her eyes.
"Harry, my dear, would you mind? Pansy seems to be getting restless."
Harry nodded and stood, deciding some dancing would clear both of their minds. They both were tense, and it would not bode well with the Prince if he could tell. After all, Harry Potter was already getting some attention.
"This is going to make things worse. He isn't interested in me," Pansy placed one hand in Harry's and her other on his shoulder. Harry pulled her in closer to avoid their voices getting too loud. His hand placed on her lower back, and he reflexively intertwined their fingers. It's how he and Ginny used to dance.
"He is, but like any good Prince, he has to entertain. He's been eyeing you all evening," Harry pushed her out in a spin and brought her back in.
“You can’t be serious?” Pansy started to look around, Harry grabbed her chin to make her stay focused on him. Her cheeks flushed with his commanding action, his hand going to her lower back again.
“You don’t want to be too obvious; take my word. He’s definitely eyeing you, as are a lot of other men here. As they should be, you look gorgeous.”
They continued their dance, Harry being a better dance partner than she imagined. He seemed so sincere with the words he spoke. Pansy was trying to focus on her feet, and getting her heart to stop beating so quickly. It was just a compliment; she needed to get a grip. At least it seemed their qualms towards the other from months ago has vanished by this point.
"Ms Parkinson."
Harry stopped abruptly, Pansy almost tripping over his feet, his arm snaked around her waist to catch her. They looked to the left and saw the Prince and his sister. They straightened up and both faced the royal siblings.
"Your Royal Highness," Pansy let go of Harry's hand, curtseying to the Prince. Harry bowed, taking the Princess’ hand, softly kissing her knuckles respectfully.
"May I have this dance? I'm sure Mr Potter wouldn't mind taking my dear sister for a dance, as well?"
The Princess blushed at her brother's words. Harry smiled and agreed, Pansy eyeing the Princess’ hand in his angrily for a moment before placing her hand in the Prince's. She followed him to the middle of the dance floor, the music changing to a waltz.
"I didn't know the famous Harry Potter did bodyguard work. I would think the English Ministry would have him on a higher pedestal."
Harry chuckled, trying to keep an eye on Pansy, "I, uh… was hired. Ms Parkinson was attacked."
"Attacked? Why would she be attacked? Was it during her time travels perhaps?"
His eyes fell to hers, losing sight of Pansy as the Princess smiled innocently. He spun her and brought her back into his arms. Were both of the siblings using the time-turners?
"That piece around her neck is beautiful, foolish girl parading around with it. Does she not know it’s illegal?”
Harry caught on to what she may be doing, “I didn’t know it if it was a replica or not.”
“Do you not know what a real time turner looks like, Mr Potter? Fakes are harder to come by," the Princess smirked. They continued dancing, Harry’s mind was reeling with what options he had; so far, there was nothing.
His bracelet wasn’t warming up, which meant Pansy was still okay. That is all that mattered out of this event. The Princess seems to be on the path of a verbal confession. That would be enough for Aurors to be able to search their castle.
One thing for sure, she knew about time turners. It was only one sentence away from confirming that they owned one.
Pansy scanned the room as the Prince twirled her out of his arms. She saw Harry talking very intimately with the Princess, blossoming a fit of very hard jealousy. The Prince pulled her back in, placing his hand back on her hip. It felt so awkward. Pansy smiled up at him, trying to make him talk about the Time-Turner.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Yes, I am," Pansy smiled. He continued leading them around the room.
"That's a unique necklace you have there. My sister has something similar but not as small nor on a necklace. Hers are much too large for jewellery."
Pansy furrowed her eyebrows, confused by his innocent tone. Did he not know what it was?
"She has one of these? That's impressive. I didn't know anyone else had one."
"Yes, she has several actually, I don't know what it's for."
"Wait. What?" Pansy stopped dancing. He was now confused by her sudden standstill.
"Is everything okay?"
Pansy started to look around the room, trying to spot Harry, but he wasn't anywhere. She picked up her dress and hurriedly made her way to the closest hallway, they couldn't have gone far.
Harry followed the Princess to her quarters, his heart racing. She was about to show an Auror her illegal collection; surely, she knew the consequences. So, what was she going to do? Pansy was trying to woo the wrong royal. He hoped she’d caught on by this point. The bracelet on his hand wasn't warming up, meaning she was still safe.
"Harry?" Pansy called out, the Prince following behind her. She was ignoring his questions. "Harry!"
"Why are you looking for him?"
She pulled out her wand and tapped the bracelet. She felt hers grow warm, expecting Harry to pop up immediately. But, the bracelet cooled. She tapped it again, walking further into the castle.
"Harry!"
Panic spread with every step she took, the bracelet cooling off as the seconds passed by, her call was ignored. It was then she paused. What if he was hurt? Or worse? People become dangerous when an Auror is on their trail.
"I'm sure my sister is taking excellent care of your… bodyguard…" the Prince slowed his words as she kept looking in all directions. Pansy was starting to launch into a panic attack. She wasn't within the safety of her home; her parents were out of sight. Harry wasn't at her side.
"It's okay, my sister wanted some time alone with Mr Potter, she requested it. You shouldn't worry."
Pansy finally set her eyes back on the deep blue eyes in front of her. She didn't find him attractive, wasn’t impressed with his slick hair, fancy robes or any of what stood before her. No, she wanted the green set of eyes, the emeralds that had been looking after her for the last few months, paired with the still unruly hair from their youth. The awkward and sweet demeanour he had, and the way he treated her, not like a pureblood needing to be wed, but as a person; as just Pansy.
Whatever the Prince's words were next were lost on her. She was overwhelmed with thoughts of Harry, how she was jealous that he was with someone else. She didn't hate him. New panic surfaced as she stupidly started to realize what all her feelings were.
"I have to go. I have to find Harry."
The Prince watched her walk away, stunned with her disregard for him. It was unusual. Women usually swarmed him and he hoped that this arranged marriage would come through. Pansy was an exquisite and gorgeous woman, pureblooded and high in demand. People from all over the world were asking for her hand in marriage.
But it seemed, she was already spoken for. He decided to let her find Potter on her own, angry with not getting his way. The Prince returned to the ball as Pansy searched for Harry.
116/Sirius and Remus?
Have an angsty ish Remus 😂 hope this is alright!
116. "Did you see his eyes? That isn't normal!"
-
Remus was on edge. It was the night before the full and he had decided to stay for the party that was being held in the Gryffindor common room. The sensory overload was making him agitated, and he honestly just wanted to go upstairs into his dorm and bury himself under several blankets. He quickly finished the rest of his beer, getting up from his spot in the corner, intent on getting out of there.
The music was blaring all around, the deep bass making it feel like his head was about to cave in at any second. Remus stumbled through the crowd of bodies, the slight buzz from the alcohol making him light headed. He was about halfway through the common room when he spotted his boyfriend… dancing with someone that wasn't him.
A possessive feeling overwhelmed Remus, blocking everything else out. He made a beeline, heading straight for Sirius. Halfway there, Sirius noticed Remus and gave him such a bright and happy smile. Remus faltered, unsure of what he was trying to do; that is until Marlene tugged on his Sirius' arm, silently demanding his attention while they danced. Sirius turned back to her, a cocky smirk on his face.
Like he was being controlled from some outside force, Remus moved to where Sirius was dancing, his hands clenched into fists. Before he could think through what he was doing, Remus let out a low growl, the word "Mine." Escaping his lips. Sirius looked at his boyfriend with wide eyes.
The innocent look just set Remus off more. He saw red; with another snarl, Remus pushed Marlene, hard. She fell to the ground with a pained gasp, looking around in confusion. When her eyes locked onto Remus', she let out a scream.
Remus stumbled back as if he were struck. He looked down at his hands, and to Marlene who was still screaming. Blinking rapidly, Remus turned and ran, fleeing up the stairs to his dorm.
-
Sirius stared dumbfounded, blinking at the spot where Remus just was. Rationally, he knew he should turn towards Marlene and help ease the fear that was coming off of her in waves; but all he could think about was the look of disgust on his boyfriend's face over what he had done.
"Did you see his eyes? That isn't normal!" Mary said frantically to a hyperventilating Marlene.
Dorcas was kneeling next to the other two girls, "His eyes, they flashed colours!"
Sirius had to get away, he had to find Remus. He knew the other man would be blaming himself for everything, when really, Sirius knew better. He knew how territorial his boyfriend got near the full moon, and yet he'd let himself dance with someone without thinking of the consequences.
Someone clapped Sirius firmly on the shoulder, causing him to jump. He turned quickly and his eyes found James' brown ones.
"Go, Pads. We've got this." James said seriously.
Sirius gave both James and Peter a thankful nod before turning and rushing towards where Remus disappeared to. He got up the stairs in record time. Sirius hesitated outside the door to their dorms. He knew that Remus would be in there, self loathing and thinking of himself as a monster. Sirius tried to wipe away the look of worry on his face; he knew his boyfriend wouldn't appreciate it, and it'd only make him feel worse. With what was hopefully a soft smile on his face, Sirius gently pushed open the door to their shared dorm.
At first, it looked like the room was empty; everything looked untouched, as if no one had entered. "Moons?" Sirius called out tentatively.
No answer. Not that Sirius thought he would, but it was worth a try. He made his way slowly through the dark dorm, his eyes alert for any sign of Remus. He heard a small sniff, making Sirius feel even more guilty. Remus was crying. Sirius followed the sniffing sound until he reached his own bed; taking in a deep breath, he pulled open the curtain of his four poster.
Remus was sitting at the top of Sirius' bed, his head resting against the headboard. He had Sirius' pillow hugged against his chest. His eyes were bloodshot and slightly red around the outside. Sirius crawled onto the bed, catching Remus' hands before he could wipe his tears away. Sirius tugged his pillow gently out of his boyfriend's arms, and straddled his lap.
"Leave me alone, Pads. I'm dangerous to be around right now." Remus said, his voice sounding raw from crying.
Even with the words, he made no move to get his hands free or to push Sirius away. Sirius gripped his wrists in one hand and used the other to gently wipe away Remus' tears. "You, dangerous? Never."
Remus let out a wet sob, looking like he wanted to hide his face but didn't. Instead he looked down at where his wrists were being held. "I just… can't control my emotions this close to the full. I'm a monster, Sirius. Marlene… she could have been seriously hurt!"
"You definitely scared her. But, I think it was more of the fact that your eyes flashed gold more than anything. You didn't hurt her." Sirius said.
Remus tried to scramble out of the bed, his limbs flailing. Sirius used the movement to pin Remus down completely, his body laid out on top of the other boy. "Sirius! I have to go explain, I have to make it better, I could be outed now! What if they say something!"
"James and Peter have it handled, love. The only thing you should be worried about is how sexy you are when you're possessive." Sirius said, snuggling into Remus.
"Stop joking, I know that I'm not a good person; I shouldn't have even attended the party." Remus grumbled.
Sirius tipped Remus' chin up with his hand. He leaned down and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "Who's joking? I look forward to when you're like this. You let go of your self restraint, you take charge. I'm yours, Remus. I love you any time of the month, there's no bad to me, all of your moods are amazing."
Remus stilled under Sirius, this was the first time either of them had said love. "You… love me? I don't deserve love, Pads."
Sirius sat up, looking down at Remus seriously. "You deserve the world. I couldn't be happy with anyone but you. Please don't torture yourself, you didn't do anything wrong, and it's handled already, okay?"
Remus took in a big gulp of air. "Okay." He said breathlessly, his whole body relaxing.
It was a big victory for Sirius, usually he'd have to keep trying to talk his boyfriend down. He smiled softly, raising his hand to stroke Remus' cheek. Remus leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. "I love you too, you know." He said quietly.
"I know." Sirius replied. He slowly crawled down Remus' body, his hands touching everything as they went. Sirius tugged lightly on the waistband of his boyfriends trousers, a playful smile on his face. "Now no more worrying, let me take care of you."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle Characters: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Elliot Snape Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, POV Hermione Granger Summary: If you could go back in time to redo your life, would you?
I know I said I’m going on hiatus bUT ONE MORE THING
Okay but to expound on my deaf!Harry post…
- Dumbledore contacts Lupin before Harry attends Hogwarts and has him learn sign language and hires him as an interpreter for Harry during classes
- Snape: “are you listening to me potter?”
Harry, speaking to the best of his ability: “to be fair I can’t listen to anyone, however I was, in fact, paying attention”
-Hermione tirelessly helping Harry with speech and pronunciation so he can get spells right
-Ron aggressively trying to learn sign language to communicate with Harry and he’s so embarrassed he can’t get the hang of it at first but Harry thinks it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him because what are friends??
-Draco, mouthing: “I hate you”
Harry, misreading hate as date: “If you wanted a date you should have said something sooner.”
-Harry signing rude things at Umbridge.
Umbridge: “What did he say!?”
Lupin: “he said you’re charming.”
-The entire Weasley family learning basic sign language for whenever Harry is with them, making him feel more at home since the Dursley’s never made a decent effort with it.
- McGonagall aware of Harry’s condition from observation at the Dursley’s prepared and learned sign language and signs when she can during her class, allowing Lupin the occasional break.
McGonagall: “You’re not sneaky Mr. Weasley; I very well know what you just signed.”
- Voldemort monologuing in sign language
Harry: “I’m sorry I don’t understand, I’m blind.”
Voldemort: “??????”
God Voldemort learning sign language just so he can monologue to his nemesis is honestly something he’s actually Edgy and Ridiculous enough to do
Voldemort, signing: “Harry Potter-”
Harry: *closes his eyes*
Voldemort: “Wha- no. Wormtail. Wormtail, make him open his eyes.”
So @litlleprincessma asked me to write a fic of my headcanon from the other day, and @ununquadius gave me permission to add on, so here goes my first Drarry fic. (Sorry about the formatting and stuff; Tumblr’s formatting sucks)
Harry strolled into the small cafe, whistling merrily as the bell jingled overhead. It was a gorgeous day, even by September standards, and he couldn’t help the extra bounce in his step as he wove his way between the tables. When he reached the usual booth, he found Dudley already seated, perusing the menu as though he wouldn’t get the exact same sandwich as always.
“Anything look good today?” Harry asked as he slid into the booth across from his cousin.
Dudley hummed pensively from behind his menu. “I’m not sure yet… the stir fry maybe.”
Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. Sometimes it was better to just let things be with Dudley. He’d learned that the hard way growing up, but in recent months—as in, since they’d started meeting up to eat lunch and actually talk things out—Harry had relearned several things about his cousin in a whole new light.
He didn’t bother looking at his own menu, instead signaling for the waitress for his cup of coffee. As he waited, his mind slipped away, drifted back to his apartment, to his warm bed with its rumpled sheets and that sweet, lithe body curled up so nicely—
“I met this guy last night that seemed to hate you a lot,” Dudley suddenly announced, effectively halting Harry’s wistful thoughts.
“It could be anyone,” Harry admitted with another eye roll. He thought of the backlash in the past year…or rather in the wake of the Prophet’s surprise announcement. Imagine, people throwing themselves into fits just because of who he was dating.
Harry didn’t care, he really didn’t. And yet he found himself asking, “How did he look like?”
“Um,” Dudley finally set down his menu, his eyes flitting upward as he tried to recall. “He was tall, blond, pale, grey eyes, pointy face…” he used his hands to illustrate said pointyness.
Harry’s face split into a bashful grin. “Ah,” Harry looked down, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, “that’d be Draco,” he glanced nervously up at Dudley as he continued, “my boyfriend.”
Dudley looked shocked, and Harry braced himself for the worst. And it had all been going so nicely too… But then Dudley surprised him once again by asking, “Why date someone who hates you?”
“Er…” Harry was legitimately at a loss for words. “What?”
“I mean, I get that he’s a good looking bloke and all, but you really have to think about your own emotional well-being too!”
Harry burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Dudley. No, he just…he doesn’t hate me,” he assured his cousin. At Dudley’s concerned look, Harry continued. “Trust me. That’s just kind of his… I don’t know, standard way of talking?”
“So he’s got that bitch face thing? But in the way he talks?”
“Yes!” Harry crowed. “That’s exactly it!”
At Dudley’s perplexed sigh, Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Trust me. Plus I think he’s still a little confused about it all sometimes.”
“Confused about it all?” Dudley arched an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Harry looked down at the table and smiled. “It didn’t happen the normal way that you’d expect things like that to happen.”
“And how did it happen?”
“Well, it started when we all went back for our eighth year, after the war…”
***
Draco pretended not to hear the whispers. They’d followed him all year, just like the sneers, the glares…the hatred. He held his chin high, his mask firmly in place. That’s what he’d always done, didn’t really make sense to drop his sole remaining defense mechanism now.
But really, had he expected any less? When his mother had asked him to return to Hogwarts and finish his schooling, regain some dignity for the family name, he’d known what lay in store.
What he hadn’t expected was Potter.
Potter, who’d walked right up to him on the first day back and extended a warm, firm hand. Potter, who’d taken to sitting with Draco during Potions. Potter, who’d sought him out for everything from study sessions to seeker games. Potter, who continued to surprise Draco so much that he really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.
Mind, none of this had really helped with his New Term Resolution to finally get over his hopeless crush on one Harry Potter, Golden Boy extraordinaire and savior of the entire bloody wizarding world. But that was fine. He’d just…have to do that some other time. Like maybe after the year ended and they all went their separate ways for good.
At least the gossip had lessened since Potter started talking to him. Word of their…friendship? Acquaintanceship? Colleagueship? Whatever it was, word of it must’ve slipped out. Everyone was much less hostile now.
But that didn’t mean that the hostility ended completely. There were still some who loathed his very existence. Like the third year Ravenclaw who always glared at him and spit words like Traitor and Death Eater. But now, when he passed her in the courtyard, she looked at him and…and…smiled… Like a genuine smile.
Draco wasn’t sure what expression his face was making, but he knew his usual mask of indifference was long gone. Even as he tried to ignore the whispers, he couldn’t help but notice that they were different. There were giggles, blushes, shy glances away. What the hell?
He quickened his steps, eager to escape to the silence and solitude of his dorm. He’d just rounded the corner that would lead him down to the cellars when a bright-eyed first year slipped into his path, forcing him to draw up short.
Glaring down at the young Slytherin should have forced her back, but she didn’t budge. Huh, that usually worked…
Draco tried to step around her, but she just stepped with him. He stepped back the other way, yet she mirrored him still. A small cluster of other first-year Slytherins giggled from nearby.
Draco heaved a put-upon sigh and rolled his eyes. “May I help you?”
Her smile inched wider at her victory. “My friends and I were wonderiiiiing…” she drew out the word to unbearable lengths.
“What?” Draco snapped, cutting her off.
She glared but continued on. “Is it true?”
Draco frowned. What the hell had these idiots come up with now?
“Is what true?”
And then came the question that changed everything: “Is it true you’re dating Harry Potter?”
***
Draco burst through the doors to the library, ignoring the shushes and glares from other students already there. He’d wasted three hours of nonstop searching—first the great hall, then the quidditch pitch, then the bloody Gryffindor common room.
And no one had even bothered to ask why he was there! They’d just smiled stupidly like everyone else as Seamus called “Oi, Malfoy! You looking for Harry?”
So Draco had finally managed to track Potter and the rest of his Golden Trio here, to the library.
He stalked through the aisles, glaring down anyone who dared make eye contact and flat out growling at one poor girl who tried to speak. So help him, if he had to hear about his boyfriend Potter one more damn time!
Yes, Draco was well aware that his crush was pathetic, and yes, he’d probably given too much away when chatting with Potter during potions last week. But that didn’t call for Potter mocking him or spreading rumors about him. Potter could’ve just spoken to Draco himself, let him down kindly.
Draco blushed to think that he’d actually believed…hoped…well, it didn’t matter what he’d believed or hoped; it obviously wasn’t true. Potter didn’t want to befriend Draco, not really.
He finally spotted them, sitting at a table near the back. He drew in a deep fortifying breath and marched resolutely forward.
He was mere steps away from the table when Potter glanced up, at first wearily, as though he were expecting some overeager fan, but then did a double take when he realized it was Draco. His mouth turned up into a shy smile, which drew Draco up short.
“Hey, Draco,” he murmured. Ron and Hermione glanced up, but barely showed any interest or concern beyond a head nod and quick smile respectively.
After a moment of confusion, Draco shook his head and refocused on Potter and his messy hair and bright eyes and shy smile.
“Potter,” he ground out. “If I could have a word.”
Potter’s eyes widened in surprise but he nodded eagerly and jumped up to follow Draco. So trusting, despite the anger and embarrassment Draco could feel emanating off himself. It was disconcerting, to have someone so willing to follow him now. Well, that and the stares. Draco could feel the other students watching as he hurried toward the exit with Potter close behind.
When they’d escaped the stifling silence and nosy stares, Draco immediately latched onto Potter’s arm and yanked him to a nearby alcove, ignoring Potter’s squawk of confusion.
“What the hell, Potter?” Draco spit as he shoved the other boy into the secluded space.
“What?” Potter cried incredulously.
“You know perfectly well what!” Draco snarled. “Telling people I’m your…your…”
He broke off with a sharp inhale and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was not about to cry in front of the git. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“Hey,” Potter murmured, reaching up to tug on Draco’s tie. “What’s wrong? What have I done?”
Draco froze. It sounded so…so genuine. It would be like Potter to take the blame on himself. And yet, the tug on his tie was so playful, so familiar. Draco cautiously opened his eyes to find Potter studying him, his eyes warm and concerned.
“You’ve been telling everyone that we’re…you know, together. Boyfriends.”
Potter opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Draco pushed on. “I know that you must’ve been uncomfortable when you found out about my feelings for you, but did you really—“ Draco broke off again. He looked away, shaking his head. Damn the tears that kept building, threatening to spill. “I thought we were finally getting along.”
Potter shuffled forward, giving another tug to the green tie. “Draco…I told people that we’re boyfriend because we are.”
Wait, what?
“What?” Draco practically shouted as his head snapped back around to stare at the delusional man.
“What do you mean, what?” Potter glared. “We’ve been dating for weeks now!”
“No! No, we haven’t,” Draco argued, somewhat sillily. “I feel like I would know if we were dating, especially for weeks.”
“Sorry?” Potter said, sarcastic as ever. “Was there supposed to be an advert in the Prophet? Do you need a certificate signed by McGonagall?”
“A bloody conversation would have been nice!” Draco yelled. “You can’t just claim someone as your boyfriend like an actual Neanderthal, Potter. There needs to be wooing.”
“Wooing?”
“Yes, wooing. Long conversations about feelings, gifts, dates!”
“But there was all that!” Potter threw his hands up.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Draco cried in frustration. When he saw how angry Potter was getting, he forced himself to shut up and calm down before asking, “Might I ask when these supposed dates occurred?”
Potter gaped at him before answering archly, “We just took a walk around the lake last Thursday!”
“That wasn’t—“ Draco started, but cut off suddenly. Oh. Ohh. Ohhhhhh. “And I take it the studying out by the pitch was also… And the thing by the…”
“Yes,” Potter bit out.
Draco couldn’t believe he’d been such an idiot. He wasn’t about to admit that, of course. Instead, he crossed his arms and struck a haughty pose.
“Well, what about the gifts?”
Potter rolled his eyes. “I let you keep my favorite snitch after our game on Saturday.”
Right. Draco stared at him, dumbfounded. He tried one final defense. “But there hasn’t been any… any handholding or, uh,” he could feel his blush rising. “kissing, or anything.”
Potter shrugged bashfully, looking down at the ground. “I thought that maybe you just didn’t want to rush into things or didn’t like touching or something.”
Draco’s heart almost split in two at the uncertainty in Harry’s voice. He stepped forward, brushing the back of his hand against Harry’s. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
Harry snorted. “No, I am. I honestly thought…” His fingers slowly linked through Draco’s as he glanced up at the taller boy through his lashes. “Can I take you to Hogsmeade tonight? I don’t want there to be any more confusion, not with you.”
If Harry kept using that expression, Draco was in danger of never being able to say no again. He’d complain about it later, but for now, with his heart nearly bursting out of his chest, he simply smiled and nodded.
***
Dudley was obviously trying not to laugh.
“Bloody hell, you were dating for weeks?” He finally let out a snort. “How bollocks do you have to be at dating for your boyfriend to not even realize?” Another chortle escaped.
Harry glared, but Dudley wasn’t deterred.
“And then he just waltzed into a bloody library,” he threw his hands up, his face now an impressive red as more laughter escaped, “and started yelling!”
“We were technically outside the library,” a posh voice broke in, and both cousins turned to find a tall blond with grey eyes and a pointy face glaring from beside the table. “And to be fair—“
But when Dudley caught sight of Draco, he burst out in a new fit of laughter, wheezing and gasping his merry way along. Draco merely rolled his eyes and plopped down into the booth beside Harry.
“Hey?” Harry murmured, his eyebrows furrowing with the unspoken question. Why had Draco tracked him down?
Draco blushed and couldn’t quite meet those green eyes as he stole Harry’s mug for a sip of coffee. He shrugged. “I just…I woke up and you were gone.” He finally glanced up to smile shyly at Harry. “I missed you.”
Warmth bloomed in Harry’s chest. “I was going to come right back, I promise.” He leaned in for a quick peck on the lips and trailed his nose up Draco’s jaw to whisper in his ear. “You looked so fucking gorgeous when I left. I don’t know how much longer I would’ve been able to stay away.” He nipped at Draco’s earlobe. “I want a repeat of what we did last night.”
Draco grinned wickedly and slid his hand onto Harry’s thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m holding you to that.”
They looked up to find Dudley wiping away the last of his tears. “Bloody hell, Harry. Only you.”
“I know, ha bloody ha. Now, if you’re quite done braying like a mule,” his arm slid around Draco’s shoulders, pulling him in close. “I’d like to formally introduce you to Draco, my boyfriend.”
This was perfect
seeing the grey (drarry)
to be very honest, draco malfoy really isn’t that attractive.
he’s too sharp, his face is too pointy and every time his flailing arms catch someone in the stomach or on the shoulder or merlin forbid, the face while he’s gesturing madly, they wince in obvious pain.
harry sees it happen often enough when he comes back for eighth year. he doesn’t have much to do this year, everything seems new, seems strange and there’s some comfort in the old pattern of keeping an eye on malfoy.
only this time, it’s not so much keeping an eye as–
well, harry doesn’t really know what he is doing.
but as he was saying, malfoy isn’t attractive.
his hair flops into his eyes and it isn’t that ‘just shagged’ look the quidditch player from the kestrels seems to sport or the sleek gelled look that malfoy had perfected over the last seven years.
it’s messy and it sticks up at odd angles more often than not, the result of- harry suspects- falling asleep in strange positions every night in the common room and continuously blowing the errant strands out of his face.
his eyes are always a bit manic, he talks too fast and harry knows malfoy is usually all calm composure and upright posture but every time something strikes his fancy, he goes wild with it, becoming obsessive while he debates the minutiae of potions theory.
he is sharp angles where softness should be– comprised almost entirely of nails, teeth and bones. he’s cutting edges where comfort should be and people definitely look at him twice but it really isn’t because he’s attractive. it’s more because he’s ridiculously striking in a rare, uninhibited way.
initially, harry harbours no attraction for the git.
attraction isn’t what crosses his mind when he finds himself staring at the back of malfoy’s white-blond head during history of magic. it’s familiar territory and so he keeps doing it in a world he finds difficulty recognising.
but attraction is hardly something that springs unannounced overnight.
it happens gradually, over a couple of months as they test the waters of the new truce they’ve forged that they’re both wary of but are determined to hold on to in favour of letting bygones be bygones.
they’re all groaning over potions homework in the common room one evening and hermione refuses to help him because really harry, i’m not the one who will sit for your newts so he gets up and goes to sit beside draco who really seems to work completely alone, holed up in his corner these days.
harry knows it’s strange and it probably is going too far and really, there are boundaries he should respect like personal space and all that tripe but this cheering potion is totally beyond him and honestly, malfoy and hermione tie for the top position in potions more often than not.
he offers help in dada but malfoy scoffs at him openly.
“one doesn’t live with the dark lord, potter, and not know how to repel muggles and cast protegos.”
harry sighs because really he should have expected this and ups to leave when there a tug on his wrist.
“would you– if it isn’t too much really– could you just help– can you tutor me in charms?” malfoy asks, very, very quietly.
harry sits back down and raises an eyebrow, because really, bloody charms?
but malfoy doesn’t quite meet his eyes when he vaguely says that he doesn’t understand charms anymore because he feels to heavy for the subject.
harry thinks he understands.
its unusual, definitely, their partnership. malfoy snipes at him but is surprisingly patient with theory when harry feels far too overwhelmed to truly discern the difference between powdered unicorn horn and crushed unicorn horn.
harry in return tries his best to teach malfoy more complex charms, the ones that aren’t just about making baubles sing. sometimes, when the syllabus doesn’t seem quite so challenging to him, they pore over a charms text together and create a christmas tree from scratch.
nobody reminds them christmas is a month away.
one day, they walk in to go over potions and harry realises the only free couch is the one in front of the fireplace. he knows draco prefers the shadows where he goes unnoticed but when draco turns around to go back up to the dorms, harry grips his wrist and drags him over.
he leans in, noting the tense set of draco’s shoulder and clenched jaw and murmurs, “chin up, ferret face.”
draco turns to him, startled but seeing whatever he does on harry’s face breaks out into a tentative smile.
and oh godric, the light from the fire makes his too pale skin glow warm and his eyes sparkle.
the smile doesn’t soften him, but his eyes crinkle around the corners and there are smile lines around his mouth and oh merlin, bloody merlin, is that really a fucking dimple–
harry swallows and looks away. he can’t allow himself to look, not when–
he stops. he’s spent so much time thinking about what he is allowed to do and what he isn’t to the point where he has conditioned himself to believe that happiness isn’t something he is allowed.
so he looks back at draco arranging the potions notes on the desk and blowing that tuft of hair out of eyes in an unconscious endearing fashion and drinks him in.
he is sharp angles and bones and jutting points but harry allows himself to notice.
he notices how draco’s fingers are always poised and elegant, how when he is explaining something, his hands move everywhere, how long his lashes are, how his nervous tic is biting and chewing on his upper lip. he notices draco is ambidextrous but he favours his left hand, notices he claims to like dark chocolate but is really rather weak for milk chocolate.
they get to know each other during the late nights. somethings they talk, sometimes they bicker, sometimes they fight and sometimes they sit in silence but once they start spending their sleeplessness together, they can’t stop.
it all comes out, the story of the dursleys, the cupboard, pivet drive. draco talks about lucius malfoy, the manor and his once bright future ruined by the mark on his forearm.
harry apologises for sectumsempra.
draco apologises for the past seven years.
the couch by the fireplace becomes theirs just like the one far back is lavender, parvati and surprisingly enough parkinson’s and the one by the portrait hole is ron and hermione’s.
it happens when draco is talking about somebody called barnabas belby and really his parents probably didn’t love him enough to saddle him with a name like that but who was he to talk anyway, his name was draco lucius malfoy and if that didn’t make him a poncy git–
harry stares at the slight twist of draco’s thin lips as they move when he talks. he keeps staring and abruptly draco stops talking. his eyes narrow and he asks harry if he has heard a single word.
the light is hitting draco’s eyes and harry is reminded of how astonishingly grey they are. most of his life has been black and white, compartmentalised, but this thing between them, doesn’t quite fit a box.
draco will never be light– his charms will always be a bit wonky and his singing baubles will have raspy voices that sound a bit like filch’s. but oh godric, he is so far from being dark and he is trying so very hard to not be who he was told he had to be. and harry wants him, fiercely, urgently.
so harry cuts him off mid rant- about how potter never listens to him and really, after seven years, shouldn’t he get a bit of credit for putting up with the great git- with a kiss.
draco’s lips are uncooperative for so long that harry begins to pull away, a pit of despair opening up like a chasm inside him when draco chooses that moment to make a helpless little sound and draws him in to properly snog the living daylights out of him.
when they break apart, still in a daze, adrenaline pumping through their veins, hearts and other body parts throbbing, the common room is silent.
and then ron’s voice cuts through the fog, gleeful, as he crows, “ten galleons, dean.”
Draco: Harry, if I become fat, would you still carry me on your back?
Harry: Of course not
Draco: …
Harry: But I’ll be fat with you and we can roll together
Omg @ninshadow 😂
@avasafari tagged me to describe myself in three characters! I just now remembered and am here for it!
I’d like think these three characters capture the obnoxious, temperamental and very cocky aspects of myself. It’s who I am. Archer Sterling, Tink and Malachai Parker from Vampire Diaries!
by Ninshadow
’ After a few seconds of shuffling, a man came into view. He was too far in the aisles to make out completely, but Draco’s breath hitched at the sight of him. He had dark hair that was up in a messy knot, and a nice thick beard. The man had on a blue, tartan, long sleeved shirt that was rolled up to the elbows to show off his very manly arms.
Draco smiled, licking his lips. The man was wearing very tight jeans that were hugging his form perfectly. To top off the look he had a pair of tan leather boots on, they looked a bit worn, but that just added to the rugged look this man was sporting.
“Malfoy?” The man asked tentatively as he shuffled towards the counter.
Draco lifted his brow, trying to figure out how he knew this person. He quickly pushed images of him worshipping those arm veins with his tongue out of his head, as his eyes widened in recognition. As the man got nearer, those green eyes were unmistakable.
“Hello, Potter. 34 looks good on you.” Draco drawled as he casually inspected his nails. ’
Words: 4313, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Teddy Lupin
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Additional Tags: Post-Hogwarts, POV Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry, Sassy Draco Malfoy, First Kiss, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Funny, Cute, Lumberjack Harry, Harry with a beard
My new fic! It was inspired by a prompt @mothermalfoy posted a while ago, but I just now got to finishing it! Hopefully you guys enjoy it!
Couldn’t have done it without my lovely friend @rosielupin who is the best beta ever!
I need a lumberjack in my life!
Name Aesthetics | Death Eaters
Keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts.
- Rubeus Hagrid
A dating service where matching is based on people’s search history exists. You’re a serial killer. You go on a date with a writer.
Serial Killer: metaphorically, if you were to kill someone, how would you do it?
Writer: Air shot between the toes, it’ll look like a heart attack.
Serial Killer who is obviously in love already: *sucks in a breath* ok
Writer: how long would it take to die if you were to potentially stab someone in the guts
Serial killer: anywhere from 2 to 30 minutes
Writer, already bringing a ring out: *shaking* thanks
A++ addition
Writer: *shows the serial killer the murder scene they’re writing* babe, i’m not sure if this would actually work?
Serial killer: *kisses writer on the forehead and leaves, comes back later, a suspicious scent of blood coming off them* it works baby, you’re doing great
I LOVE THIS
Oh no, murder comedy is my jam
I love this, I love all of this, but quick question, does the author know? Like are they aware that their significant other is a serial killer or do they just think that they have a morbid sense of humor? It’d be even funnier if the author had no fucking clue, like how Aurthur Conan Doyle was apparently stupidly gullible, and on top of it they’re a horror or crime novelist. Like the serial killer works at a butcher shop or something so it’s completely normal for them to come home smelling like blood, no murders going on here, no sirey. Just my darling coming back home from a long day at work.
Now fast forward a bit and the author has managed to get their first book published, with loving support from the serial killer who helped them fine tune all the murder scenes, and it’s a big hit. Enough so that a detective with the local police department has noticed some disturbing similarities to several active cases, including details that were never released to the press. Obviously he brings this up to his superior and convinces him that there’s something to the theory, but it’s all circumstantial right now. He stakes out the author’s home and is super convinced that the author is the murderer, but they don’t seem to do anything??? Like they literally are at the house all day, that’s it. Most they do is leave for groceries.
So you get this dynamic of the serial killer mining the author for creative murder schemes, the author being lovingly encouraged by the serial killer, and finally the detective who is just so sure that the author is the killer and that if he sticks it out long enough he’ll FINALLY have proof.
Plot twist, The serial killer and detective use to go out so it gets sub what personal.
“You need to stop seeing them. I think they are a serial killer.”
Serial killer breaths in. “Look-”
Need to find my writer.🖤