dirt enthusiast
pixel skylines
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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One Nice Bug Per Day
Kiana Khansmith
@theartofmadeline
AnasAbdin
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
i don't do bad sauce passes
oozey mess
Today's Document
DEAR READER
h
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occasionally subtle
Jules of Nature
shark vs the universe
wallacepolsom
almost home
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@drarrydorks
@goatbladetwelvesoul requested Harry trying to make Draco and Ron to get on, with threats of The Get Along Shirt
this one’s of course enchanted, so whenever they try to take it off or hex each other it will grow tighter
Ron is 900% done
Amazing!!!
Harry Potter AU in which Fred and George are in different houses and they steal and wear each others ties whilst doing stupid things in hope of the others house losing points
Finally a Fred and George AU that doesn’t make me want to set myself on fire.
AU where Fred and George are in different houses and they get their hands on house ties from the other two houses as well. By the end of their first year nobody knows which house either of them is in and just take points off a random house whenever they see a redhead getting up to something.
The confusion runs so deep by the time Ron starts that Snape once takes points off Slytherin for Ron fighting with Malfoy.
There’s a few months in Fred and George’s second year when they successfully convince most of the school that they’re actually quadruplets, one in each house.
“George! Why are you wearing a Slytherin tie?”
“What? No, I’m Edward. Y'know, Slytherin’s resident Weasley?”
“Wh…huh???”
“Next you’ll be telling me you don’t know Hubert!”
“?????”
After this confusing quadruple mess, a conspiracy theory emerges that Fred and George are actually just one person, and there were never any Weasley Twins. To add fuel to this theory, Fred and George make a point to never be seen together (publicly).
When asked about this theory, Fred/George subtly insinuates that he used Polyjuice Potion so that there could be multiple versions of himself at once. This goes around the Hogwarts Rumor Mill like fire. The Weasley family says nothing to dispute it, not even Percy.
Percy makes polyjuice successfully for the first time in his fifth year, when he finally has sufficient motivation. Fred, George, Edward and Hubert walk into the great hall one morning, identical but for their school ties, and the chaos is so great that nobody realizes Percy and Ron are missing.
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ALWAYS REBLOG WHEN YOU SEE SOMETHING LIKE THIS PLEASE; ITS SO MUCH MORE THAN IMPORTANT TO PEOPLE. IT MEANS EVERYTHING TO SOMEBODY AND EVEN THOUGH YOU MIGHT NOT SEE THIS IN THE SAME LIGHT, SOMEONE MIGHT. INFACT YOU REBLOGGING THIS COULD STOP SOMEONE TAKING THEIR LIFE TONIGHT.
I noticed there isn’t one here for Ireland, so
Irish free suicide helpline: 01-116 123
last time i reblogged this, i got this ask:
so please, please reblog. this could actually save a life.
keep yourselves safe!
Here it is, canon evidence that Salazar Slytherin was NOT a racist bigot. He was concerned for the well-being and safety of the magical community, which could have been compromised by letting the “common people” know that wizards and witches existed.
datvikingtho
Shoutout to this fine lady for bringing this to my attention. Let’s further the argument: Hogwarts was canonically founded around 990 A.D. - The Christians were finally taking hold of Scandinavia, meaning that all of Europe was now Christian. It was towards the end of the Dark Ages, or else the Early Medieval Period, which (In Europe) was famous for its intolerance of non-Christiandom, which included the teachings of Ancient Rome, Greece, and of course any Eastern countries. People were publicly defamed and in many cases killed for as much as considering these old ideas and teachings. These teachings really didn’t come back to light until the Italian Renaissance in the 14th century. So when people did things the Christians couldn’t explain, they blamed it on Witches; people they believed to be inhabited by the devil, sent to earth to wreak havoc on every God-fearing man, woman, and child. So what did they do? Imprison or kill those people. Now, here comes Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all agree to take pureblooded witches and wizards and teach them. But then they have to discuss magical folk who aren’t born from magic folk. Gryffindor is brave and brash, and imagines the glory of having an entire society of witches and wizards with great command of their powers. Hufflepuff is kind and loving, and wants to provide a sanctuary for all those who are under duress from the population at large. Ravenclaw sees the merit in bringing all these different people together - the amount of information regarding magic that can be shared is the stuff of her dreams. Slytherin is cautious. He recognizes that there is a great possibility for individuals to play spy for the Muggle community, in hopes to gain favor by outing them all the while hiding their own powers from muggles. He sees them as a potential threat, and instead of risking the safety of not only their own lives, but the countless volumes and tomes of ancient wizarding knowledge tucked away in their castle (see The Burning of the Great Library at Alexandria), Slytherin says “I really don’t think we should allow people with connections to Muggles in here. We could lost *everything.* Gryffindor calls Slytherin a coward, saying they would fight back and beat down any who try to oppose them. Slytherin suggests they do all they can to avoid confrontation. Hufflepuff can’t bring herself to deny that sanctuary she’s built. Ravenclaw sees endless potential in bridging that gap between worlds with learning. And this is what drives them apart. Future racists and pureblooded elitists will take and twist Slytherin’s words, having heard only the story that has been passed down for a thousand years. They use words of caution to justify their want for genocide. Slytherin isn’t the bad guy, here. And I am so down for clearing his name.
To continue the crusade to clear the name of Salazar Slytherin, I have more evidence for your consideration. This is regarding the Chamber of Secrets. Now, the scene pictured above is one of Harry’s slightly less dull History of Magic classes, in which Professor Binns is asked to talk about the Chamber of Secrets. What we get from him is that the Chamber is a myth. There is legend surrounding it, no one is sure if it exists, etc etc etc.
Here is the VERY NEXT PAGE in the book, in which Professor Binns again admits to the Chamber (as we know it today) to be a complete myth. We find out, obviously, that the chamber isn’t a myth, but I believe that the purpose of the chamber has been fabricated over a thousand years by misinformation and slander. Let’s check it out. Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Godric Gryffindor all know Salazar Slytherin and say “yep, he’s an upstanding man. Let’s start this school with him!” For a number of years, they had a school together and it worked out great. What we know is that there was a falling out, not Slytherin declaring they needed to murder muggle-borns! A disagreement that may have ruined friendships but did little else, I think. What we know is that one of Slytherin house’s key virtues is self-preservation. As I discussed earlier in the thread on this post is that Slytherin was afraid of muggle-born witches and wizards acting as spies for the larger muggle community during a time in which wizards and witches were killed for their “demon powers.” And so, when it comes to the Chamber of Secrets, I believe Slytherin built a Panic Room, not an Evil Lair. Think about it. Slytherin is horrified that any day there might be an attack on the school. So he builds a secret chamber that only he (or another parseltongue, an incredibly rare magical ability) can open. He doesn’t want any double agents or spies to know about it, so he tells no one. He hopes, of course, that he never has to use it, but in the event that there is an attack, he can get the school to safety while he sets the basilisk on the attackers. But I’m sure you’re looking at the basilisk and thinking “what sane man would put a monster in a panic room?” Glad you asked. I can consider two possibilities. 1) Slytherin put a basilisk that was under his control in the chamber, a creature that he could set loose on his enemies, aka, anyone attacking the castle. The basilisk would annihilate any army of thousands just by looking at them, and what’s more, it could get almost anywhere in the castle through the goddamn walls! That kind of power is exactly what you need to defend your castle. And again, ONLY HE or an heir could control it. I’m sure at this point he was thinking about himself and his potential progeny, not Tom Riddle some thousand years later. 2) Slytherin didn’t put the basilisk there, and it was instead placed there later by Tom Riddle while he was at school. I don’t have evidence supporting or disproving this. So how does this get so misconstrued to modern-day Hogwarts lore? Maybe toward the end, the founders did find out about the Chamber. Maybe Slytherin said something to them, maybe he let it slip…maybe as they were cleaning out his room after he left, they found some journal entries about it. It could have been anything. But perhaps, in their wisdom, seeing no way to access the chamber, felt it best that no one knew about the existence of a (now) useless panic room, nor did they want anyone to worry about the basilisk. Maybe word *did* get out, though. And not one of the founders wanted to admit that Slytherin didn’t trust their students, and so to most of the student body, Slytherin’s departure was suspect. And the moment they heard about a secret room that no one was quite sure about, they started inventing campfire stories about it. Fast forward ONE THOUSAND YEARS and now everyone assumes Slytherin was always evil (despite being a good friend and founder of Hogwarts with three other lovely people) and created a secret evil lair to murder muggle-borns, which he could have easily done without a lair if that was *ever* his intention.
Thank you so much! I’ve been looking for this post. I always felt like Slytherin being a horrible evil bigot never really made any sense historically speaking, and it just doesn’t add up. Although I have to say I don’t put much stock in option 2. The dude could talk to snakes. And as Hagrid will happily tell you, a creature being scary and “monstrous” doesn’t make it evil. Why couldn’t he be a Hagrid, with a fondness for big “misunderstood” creepy crawlies? Having a basilisk doesn’t make Slytherin evil in and of itself, any more than Hagrid having an acromantula makes him evil, even if most of wizarding society would condemn him for it. Obviously popular opinion isn’t always accurate.
The conservationist and history nerd in me feels a pang whenever I think about how much of a loss that basilisk was. I know it was being used for murder and that it needed to be stopped, but it’s a knee-jerk reaction to such a huge loss of knowledge. That thing was alive a thousand years ago. It knew one of the original founders of Hogwarts. Any parselmouth could have spoken to it and asked it what things were really like in those days and gotten a first hand account, but unfortunately the only person to speak to it in a millennium was an idiot who only thought about killing people. Did he even think to ask its name? Nagini clearly had a name, but he never refers to the basilisk by name. That’s just… really sad to me.
I think a lot of people forget that Slytherin house is more than just self-preservation too; loyalty is a core value. Slytherin’s message is about protecting your own more than nearly anything else. Slytherin pushes unquestioning acceptance of and loyalty to your fellows, regardless of blood status, even in Harry’s day, according to their welcome message on Pottermore. You very rarely see a Slytherin making a disparaging remark about another Slytherin. You do see even the most bigoted Slytherins (like the Malfoys) being supportive of Slytherins who are much lower on their little social hierarchy than them (like Snape). In Salazar Slytherin’s day, I think he would have extended that loyalty to the whole school and the other founders. They were “his own”, and he would have wanted to protect them.
In depth analysis about Harry Potter is what i’m here for
this is the theory i’ve been looking for
SUPER long text post but well worth the read
I’m a gryffindor and I fully enjoyed this post.
Fuck yeah, Slytherin defense squad 🐍 I would absolutely hide in the panic room with a protective murder boye if people were coming to burn me at the stake.
But more importantly:
None of the leadership thought to ask why they were putting in such ridiculously large pipes when they were installed? Feels like someone would mention it for the budget alone.
HOW THE FUCK DID A SNAKE THAT BIG LIVE FOR 1000 YEARS WITHOUT ANYONE NOTICING? Seriously?? How much fucking food must a basilisk eat? Does the entire staff just notice huge amounts of food go missing and shrug like “damn those Hufflepuff stoners sure know how to throw it back, good for them”
“Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section.”
Okay but this is legit a summary of how the trio works: Hermione is methodical and organised, Ron is “fuck this I’m winging it #yolo”, and Harry looks for something illegal to do.
Take No Crap Hermione
Harry always wanting to use the “Saviour Excuse” to get out of simple tasks like laundry and Hermione not listening for a second and making him do it.
Ron wanting to skip work to go to a Cannons game and Hermione always tells him
“Until I’m out of school, you support this house Ronald. You need to work”
But he goes anyways and thinks she doesn’t know.
Neville putting himself down over his magic in fifth year and Hermione insisting he’s a good wizard
Hermione catching someone bullying Luna and she loses her shit.
A few hexes mightve been fired, but who knows
After Buckbeaks trial, Hermione goes to Hagrids hut constantly to console him.
Harry during eighth year never wants to do his essays and she threatens to take away Draco from him.
Harry gets the essays done in record times.
He later calls her bluff and is extremely shocked whenever he gets an owl from Draco saying he’s with Hermione until he finishes.
Hermione gets mistaken as a secretary at her first day at the ministry. She coldly let’s the man know she is the second in charge of care of magical creatures unit, thank you very much.
Draco brings up the punch in third year and Hermione let’s him know she doesn’t feel sorry one bit.
Draco agrees he deserved it.
Ron getting home after a mission and she makes sure he gets proper care instead of going home and sleeping for two days straight.
“It’s proper hygiene, honestly Ronald”
But Hermione is also the most caring and compassionate friend one could ever have.
Just Hermione taking no shit makes me so happy. You can hate her or love her. But everyone respects her.
Harry: *cooking Valentine’s Day meal*
Draco: *looks around scowling*
Harry: what
Draco: where is it?
Harry: where’s what?
Draco: my gift.
Harry: we agreed on no gifts
Draco: which means,i get a gift from you, and the money i didn’t use on you is also for me.
“Okay, Potter. You’re going to do my hair from now on.”
–Draco Malfoy to his husband
Woah… but like can you imagine something like this:
Harry doing Dracos hair in his room
Draco: Dont pull it that hard ur hurting me
Harry: Sorry but I have to tug on it for it to stay
Ron (bursting in): WHAT IS GOING ON HERE????
Ron: …oh.
it happened
Two Thousand
I promised I’d write something for you all… and here it is! I love you, I’m so happy to share this fandom life with you, so I really hope you’ll like this!
Drarry | Word Count: 3,5k | Rating: Teens (mention of wanking) | Tags: Draco-centric, paper cranes, Pansy and Draco friendship, 8th year (with a great deal of years from 1 to 5 too), and they were roommates (in the end, like, really end, like the last 400 words), coming out, Lucius is a Fun Dad | Beta: the magical @fictional, tagging @shealwaysreads and @keyflight790 too :3
Two Thousand
It took Draco two thousand times.
He still remembered the first one. Eleven years old, Slytherin common room. It was the second day, but the hierarchy was already established. Draco was sitting on the big leather black armchair in front of the hearth, Goyle and Crabbe at his sides. Pansy sitting on the green velvety carpet, painting her nails.
Looking back at it, Draco laughed. They looked so presumptuous, so entitled. He really believed he was superior. What a big bag of bullshit.
So, that’s how they were positioned the first time. Draco huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, eyebrows drawn close. Pansy looked up at him, cocking her head. “What?”
Draco’s posture only stiffened more. He was so pissed. “It’s about…!” He uncrossed his arms, gesturing widely in the air as he spoke. “It’s about Potter! Stupid, famous, scarhead Potter! Did you see the way he turned me down? The impudence!”
Goyle and Crabbe nodded next to him, fueling Draco’s anger. He went on. “He doesn’t know who he got as an enemy! I’ll make him regret this!”
Pansy snorted, and Draco stopped to glare at her. She shook her head, amused. “Wow. Potter, again. It’s our second day of school and you’re still talking about that. You took it well, huh?”
“It’s just so unfair! That’s not how it was supposed to go!” Draco slumped against the back of the armchair, feeling a lump forming in his throat. He had thought of that moment for the entire summer, he always got what he wanted, that simply wasn’t how—
Pansy shook him out of his thoughts. “Aw, poor Draco. Look I’m sorry you’re grieving because the boy of your dreams didn’t shake your hand—”
“He’s not the boy of my dreams, Pansy!”
“— but there’s little you can do now. Now you’re enemies, right? So, stop talking about him. It’s getting boring,” Pansy concluded, taking up the nail polish and starting to put it on again.
Draco’s eyes widened. He gasped, outraged. “It’s not like he’s everything I talk about, you’re my friend and I need to talk about it, so—”
“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. She got up from the carpet, gesturing with her hands as to say she’d be back in a moment and disappearing into the girls’ dorms. She reemerged shortly after, a shit-eating smile on her face and a jar in her hands.
“I present to you, the Potter jar. Every time you talk about him, you’re gonna make a paper crane and put it in here.” She smiled satisfied. Draco looked at her as she’d just suggested going skiing on the frozen Black Lake.
“Are you mental? Why a paper crane? I’m not gonna do it!”
“Because you’re crap at origami and maybe after two times obliged to do it you will stop talking about Potter altogether, knackered from paper cuts.”
Keep reading
The Hairband Thief
So, I had an exchange with my fiancee and this came out of it lol. Hope you enjoy! Domestic Drarry. Mild Language warning. 932 words!
He was late.
He was always late, and yet it was always surprising. And annoying. So annoying! Especially when things weren’t where he needed them to be, which, of course, was exactly the case right now.
He’d managed to roll out of bed, yank his clothes on the right way round, and pull a brush through his hair in record time, but now, with one hand holding his notoriously untamable hair into something vaguely resembling a ponytail, everything had ground to a halt. All because an essential ingredient, and one he knew exactly where he’d left yesterday was missing.
His hairband.
Precious seconds slipped away as he dashed around the bedroom, one hand gripping his hair, trying to keep it from tumbling into a tangled mess all over again, the other frantically searching for the tiny, electric blue circle of elastic that should have been right there! But no matter how much he searched, how much his arm ached, the band was nowhere to be found. And it was pissing him off!
“DRACO!” he yelled, desperation and frustration heavy in his tone.
“Hmm?” his husband appeared in the doorway, all crisp, clean edges and folds, wrapped in his dress shirts. Why the fucker hadn’t woken him up, god only knew. But, Harry would have to yell at him for that later, right now he didn’t have the time.
“Have you got a- you BASTARD!”
Draco jumped at the sudden change in his voice, brow furrowing about an inch as Harry stood frozen, eyes glued to his wrist.
“What?!”
“What do you mean, ‘What’?!” He scoffed, advancing towards the rat he called his husband. The sneaky, conniving little… “You stole my hairband!”
Draco merely straightened, shoulder’s squaring as defiance glinted in his eyes. Prissy prick.
“No I didn’t!”
“Yes you did, you git! I’ve spent the last 5 minutes holding my hair up, turning this bedroom upside down, and it’s there! On your bloody wrist!”
“Wh-This one?! This was on the floor, you pillock!”
“Yes, I know it was! It was supposed to be there! That’s where I left it!”
“Well why would you leave it on the floor, you idiot?! It doesn’t belong there! It’s messy, and dirty, an-”
“And it’s exactly where I needed it! It was next to my jeans for the day so I’d know where it was when I needed it! But of course, you came and stole it, fucking up my system!”
“System?! How is leaving something on the floor a system, you blithering idiot?! No sane person would ever realise that was there for a reason! I merely picked it up because you’re constantly asking me if I have a hairband after you misplace yours! Most likely, might I add, because you leave them ON THE SODDING FLOOR! This time I merely thought I’d be prepared!”
“Oh, look at little-mister-perfect trying to be helpful! And by the way, I thought we established you weren’t sane when you married me! You only have yourself to blame!”
“For marrying a completely useless, half-wit of a philistine, who can barely dress himself in the mornings? I agree. I only have myself to blame. Seriously, look at the state of you! Your top is inside out! What was I thinking?!”
“Wha-?” he turned to the mirror quickly, only to find his tag sticking out comically, which of course, put that maddeningly smug expression on Draco’s face. Bollocks.
“Well, that just demonstrates that clearly you were thinking more about my ass than anything else when you agreed to marry me! We both know all I have to do is squat a little and you drool!”
“I DO NOT!” Draco exclaimed, cheeks flushing a glorious rose-pink. “I do no such thing, Potter! I am refined, and dignified, and-”
“FULL OF SHIT, Malfoy-Potter!” Harry yelled back. “You are the most besotted, undignified, DISASTER of a gay I have EVER SEEN. It’s blindingly obvious to everyone! Even me! Even when it’s the middle of the night, pitch black, and I have my glasses off, and you know it! Now would you please stop mooning over me for one second, do something actually useful rather than fucking up my system, and GIVE ME BACK MY HAIRBAND?!”
“GLADLY!”
In the blink of an eye, the tiny ring of elastic had disappeared from Draco’s wrist, been stretched between his fingers, and was launched through the air directly at Harry’s head. He only just dodged it in time.
“THANK YOU!” He exclaimed, snatching the thing as shoving it into his hair as quickly as possible as Draco, the child, flounced from the room.
“WANKER!” he yelled after him.
“PRICK!” Came the reply.
Muttering under his breath he grabbed the rest of his things as fast as he could, righted his top, and ran down the stairs three at a time.
“I’ll be home by 6,” he called tugging his shoes on as he hopped on one foot.
“Do try not to be late,” Draco swanned into the room with his lunch in hand, eyebrow raised as always. Harry didn’t even pause to glare. Grabbing his proffered lunch, he swiftly pressed a quick peck to his husband’s mouth and legged it out the door.
“I love you, you utter fucker!” Draco called after him, entirely unfazed by the muggles wandering by who would surely be scandalised by such language.
“I love you too, you complete fuckwad!”
As he ran down the street, the fear of Hermione’s disapproving gaze and lecture spurring him on, Draco’s barely audible, but loving chuckle kept a warm glow in his chest the entire way.
I hope you enjoyed!
Interviewer: Do you find that [film and go to school] exhausting? It sounds terrible exhausting to me.
we all know that’s draco’s way too curious for his own good, right? so imagine that young and innocent 12 year old draco malfoy is exploring his father’s dark arts artefacts, snooping around curiously and not being afraid of those things. because he is a malfoy and those things aren’t meant to harm him, right? they are meant to harm muggles and muggleborns, he has got nothing to fear
then he finds it. an old diary. with nothing written on it. seems pretty harmless, really, so he takes it. and he writes on it, and the diary writes back.
draco also loves to talk about himself and to get some attention. and tom riddle talks back, offers advice, gives him the attention he wants.
and what’s draco 2nd favourite subject to talk about? (the first being himself) POTTER. and draco tells tom riddle all about saint potter.
it takes draco a while to realize that he is the one attacking the muggleborns at school. and, even though he has been delighted about all this attacks and has been telling everyone that he’d like to help the heir of slytherin, when he realizes that it’s HIM who is responsible for the attacks he isn’t exactly happy. draco’s all talk, we know that. and he’s scared, he’s scared of being possessed, of losing control, he tries to dispose of the journal but then potter finds it. and if potter finds out that he is the one who did it all, then potter will tell dumbledore, and dumbledore will tell his father and lucius will be SO mad. so he manages to get the diary back, and potter doesn’t say anything.
but then tom riddle takes him to the chamber. i don’t think tom riddle really cares that draco is a malfoy. he even says that his father will be pleased about his sacrifice, that he will help bring his father’s old lord back. and draco hates it.
harry’s kinda freaked out that draco has been taken to the chamber, but he decides to help lockhart out anyway telling him where the chamber is. and harry gets carried away, because he is harry and draco’s just a kid, right? and then all that mess at the chamber happens, ron’s not really pleased and genuinely scared about that might happen to harry but harry can’t turn back now.
and so he confronts tom riddle, tom riddle tells him all about draco and how pathetically jealous he is of harry, about how draco’s a coward and hated being the one opening the chamber. harry knows that he was right about coming after him, and then he fights the basilisk, kills the diary and draco wakes up.
harry, after almost dying, is so angry at him. “i hope you’re pleased with yourself” he says. and draco only shakes his head, tears running down his face. he’s not pleased with himself. he despises himself. he can’t say anything, and harry glares at him while he cries and cries and cries. “i didn’t mean to” he says, through tears “i’m sorry. i’ll tell them i’m sorry. i should have never...”
harry feels a bit bad for him. he’s just... a boy. like harry himself. so harry offers his hand and says
“i can help you there”
Draco: My New Years resolution is to stop cursing so much.
Harry: *knows Draco says at least four curse words in a sentence*
Harry: Good luck with that, Draco.
Draco: Shut the fuck up, Potter, I can do it.
Harry:...
draco: i slipped a little note into your bag to tell you that i love you
harry: draco, this is a ten-page letter
remus lupin spent his final christmas at Hogwarts as a werewolf bye
why share this information? do you hate happiness?
*ugly sobbing*
Fleur Delacour had the most impressive performance in the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament, imo, and it is a Crime that she came in last place. Like, sure, maybe what she did took awhile and it wasn’t flashy, but imo she did by far the most impressive, difficult, and most humane piece of magic.
Like, there’s this pissed off dragon mother, right? It’s been boxed up, taken to this strange place, then stuck in a noisy arena where its eggs are being threatened. This dragon is probably Unbelievably scared and angry.
It can take 4-8 adult wizards working in tandem to Stun a dragon, especially a pissed off one, but Fleur “fairy princess” Delacour walks into that arena, stares down an angry apex predator, and somehow manages to single-handedly enchant it to sleep. This Common Welsh Green is surrounded by hundreds of people, needs to protect its eggs, but Fleur Delacour’s magic manages to override all of its fear and anger? That is an incredible feat of powerful and probably very complex magic.
Like, no wonder Fleur Delacour can come off as condescending, that is mind-blowingly impressive. That is the work of 4-8 adult wizards. You cannot tell me that the watching dragon-handlers were not LOSING THEIR MINDS.
Between sexism and Fleur being part-Veela, it is unfortunately very realistic that she faces a lot of prejudice, but come on, Professors Sprout and Hagrid and etc. must have been going wild. It’s only some very bad luck that her skirt was accidentally set on fire. She got the golden egg. There was zero damage to the dragon or to the real eggs. Even if Madame Maxime and Fleur worked together to prepare it, Fleur still had to do it, and Madame Maxime would have been so rightly furious that Fleur’s bravery and magical skill wasn’t recognized.
Anyway, part of where I’m going with this, is that this injustice also creates some choice eldest Weasley brother reactions. Like Bill Weasley is writing his regular letters to Charlie, right? And he happens to mention, “Hey, I met this woman at work, on that guardian beast problem with that tomb I was telling you about. Do you remember the Beauxbatons Champion, Fleur Delacour?”
And Charlie Weasley writes back like, “DO I REMEMBER FLEUR DELACOUR? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! WE HAVE A POSTER OF HER ON OUR WALL! I HAVE HER GRADUATING CHARMS THESIS ON CALMING MAGICAL CREATURES AND I WANT IT SIGNED. SHE REVOLUTIONIZED OUR DEALINGS WITH DRAGONS HERE. INJURIES ON THE RESERVE FOR DRAGONS AND HANDLERS ARE DOWN BY LIKE 75% SINCE WE BEGAN IMPLEMENTING HER REINVENTED SPELLWORK.”
“Uh, alright then. Well, you can send that to me and I will ask her to sign it for you,” Bill Weasley, an extremely successful Curse-Breaker, writes back. (It isn’t that he doesn’t find Fleur Delacour’s accomplishments very impressive, it is just that the poster on the wall thing is a Bit Weird.) “That’s not going to be weird when I ask her out or anything. Wish me luck.”
And Charlie writes back, “LUCK? LUCK?! WILLIAM WEASLEY, IF YOU DON’T MARRY THAT WOMAN, I’LL DISOWN YOU. TELL HER THAT IF GRINGOTTS DOESN’T APPRECIATE HER, SHE CAN COME TO ROMANIA. WE’RE BROKE, BUT I HAVE A DOZEN MUSCLED WIZARDS, WITCHES, AND OTHERS READY TO PROPOSE TO HER ON THE SPOT.”
“I was thinking dinner first,” Bill writes back. “But I’ll let her know?”
So, Fleur initially has to deal with a lot of crap from the Weasley Family, but at least she’s always got Charlie “Number One Fleur Delacour Fan” Weasley in her corner. You’ll catch Uncle Charlie excitedly telling the story of Fleur Delacour in the First Task to Bill’s children forever.
(Charlie: “IF YOU DON’T MARRY HER THEN I WILL!”
Bill: “Charlie, you’re not even into women.”
Charlie: “WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH THE MOST IMPRESSIVE DRAGON-HANDLING I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE?!!”)
That time during the Battle of Hogwarts when Draco almost died in the Room of Requirement but kissed Harry Potter instead
Draco Malfoy limps. He fucking drags his leg behind him, pushing forward and sacrificing every ounce of repituity while doing so.
It was the fucking snake. Nagini, the one who’d lived with them for months at Malfoy Manor. The one who the Dark Lord had fed numerous times in front of his followers, Draco chewing his cheek with silent opposition.
And now, it had bit him right in the arse. Just a bit lower in all technicality, but Draco didn’t care. He just wanted solace.
He hadn’t meant to show the slightest reluctance to the Dark Lord’s plan to invade the school. To “catch Potter once and for all” as soon as his presence had been identified. Forgive him- Draco loved Hogwarts. It was the only place he’d ever felt (and he’d kill you if you knew this) home. At school, he had his friends. He had games of exploding snap and good-willed jabs between housemates and witty banter. He had Potter to annihalate with sarcastic comebacks and the like. It all gave him fuel; a sense of purpose.
Now, that fuel had been ignited by dark magic and curses that set the turrets on fire. Creatures ran rampant, killing those in their wake. Some of the braver students had stuck around and threw counter-spells from behind posts and make-shift debris walls. In the midst of it all, Draco limps.
He pulls his leg to the Room of Requirement, where he knows Potter will be. He’s known him far too long to guess his motives. His plans were like clockwork, a rhythmic and predictable rouse. Or maybe, Draco was just that keen at sensing his thoughts and ideas.
He doesn’t have a lot of time; he’s figured that much out. Even if he manages to outrun Voldemort, the poison will still inevitably travel through his circulatory system. He’s already broken into a cold sweat as he approaches his destination.
Potter’s already there, rummaging through stacks of decade old-belongings that only the Room of Hidden Things would hold. He’s clearly searching for something.
“Malfoy.” He starts, pointing his wand at Draco’s chest. He’s alone, and the silence that ensues is almost unsettling. But this time, Draco doesn’t care.
He doesn’t care that he’s spent the last 7 years arguing with this boy. He doesn’t give a flying fuck that he’s on the dead end of his wand. He’s dying, and he doesn’t bother with small details.
He focuses instead on the vibrancy of his stare, the way his green eyes cut through him like no one else ever could. The soft patches of dirt that bespeckle his face and hands from battle. The beads of sweat that slowly trickle down the side of his neck, reflecting his urgency.
“I don’t have time for games right now!” He shouts, eyes darting around the room for his lost object while his wand remains steady. They then come to rest on his form, his bloody and pathetic lower half that trails lifelessly behind him.
“Wait, Malfoy- you’re- you’re hurt.”
Draco doesn’t respond. He tells himself his hard swallow is the effect of the snake venom, but he knows it’s a lie. It’s always been.
The caring tone to Potter’s voice, the way he lowers his wand and rushes to inspect him regardless of his mission is enough to push him over the edge. To ignite that same fire deep within his belly, blazing wild and free.
“What happened?” Potter is close, too close, and Draco finds it hard to catch his breath. That’s what happens when you’re dying, right?
“Fucking snake,” is all he manages to squeak, and suddenly he’s light headed. He slides downward to the floor, and Potter, against all odds, reaches to catch him.
Now they’re both on the ground, Draco panting and Potter pointing his wand at the wound. “Reinervate!” He commands, but nothing happens.
Again, louder. “Reinervate!”
“It’s fine, Potter. Don’t waste your time on me. You’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He smirks, and this is all too real. Potter’s caring for him. It’s nice and warm. Peaceful.
“Fuck, Malfoy, when did you become such a selfless git?” He’s smiling, and Draco chuckles. It’s a beautiful truce, winding and weaving Draco whole.
“When you decided to save the world, I guess.” Living Draco Malfoy would never be so vulnerable, allowing the sharp silence to fill the air between them. He’d scoff, or roll his eyes before running infinitely in the opposite direction. Dying Draco, however, was a fucking sap. He refused to deny himself what he’d been missing, buried upon layers of mistakes and bad decisions. Potter draws in a sharp inspiration before settling into Draco’s gaze.
“Why didn’t you tell them? Bellatrix- you knew it was me. You knew it was me, and you didn’t say anything...”
Draco laughs softly. “Because, you idiot, it was always you. Always fucking you. And I fucked up; I ruined my chance to be good. But you... you are what good aspires to be. And I hate that about you, I always have.” He pauses, grinning and shaking his head at his own stupidity. “But it’s what makes you Saint Potter, and you deserve every piece of it.”
Potter’s mouth drops into the finest of “O’s,” and Draco can’t help but stare at the plump crimson of his lower lip.
“Malfoy- Draco- what the fuck,” he whispers, and it’s not a question, but a foretelling. His voice is raspy; he swallows hard against a dry throat. His eyes are reflective pools of the past seven years, memories dancing across his irises as he realizes the implication of Draco’s words. He licks his lips, studying the boy before him. The boy that was wholesome and selfless and good despite all previous notion.
Before he can answer, Draco points upward. “Potter, look,” He states, his hazy vision landing on the most peculiar glint of sapphire. “It’s a diadem. Isn’t it pretty?”
“It’s a-“ Harry turns suddenly, whipping toward the direction of Draco’s gesture. Sure enough, there, propped against a dusty old mannequin atop a mound of antiquities, was exactly what he’d been looking for.
His face lights up, cheeks a rosy pink as they’re pulled taut. “Draco, you fucking prat, you found it! You-“
He jolts back to look at him, but his lids have come to a gentle close. His chest rises and falls in a shallow rhythm, and Harry notices the amount of blood that’s pooled around them.
“Draco, no! Fuck!” He glances around, desperate for some sort of answer, before deciding to cup Draco’s face in his hands.
“You can’t go and do this now, you wanker! Not when you just told me how you feel! Draco, please, please-“ he Grips for dear life, but Draco’s face is cool to the touch.
His stomach clenches. How has everything he’d known to be true flipped in just a matter of minutes? How did he end up here, begging his arch nemesis to be alive?
He runs a hand along the edge of Draco’s jaw, and he stirs a bit. His fingers glide lower, down the soft plane of his neck and collarbone. Draco shivers. Potter laughs.
“You like that, don’t you?” He smiles, playfully amused as he trails a path down Draco’s chest. The caress is heaven, and in his semiconscious state Draco feels whole. Green eyes flicker down to his lips, pale but smooth despite his current state. Harry knows this is it, and it’s all or nothing. There is no longer right and wrong; light or darkness. It’s only Draco, and himself, and everything that he’d thought he’d known to be true snowing gently in broken bits all around them.
He bites his lip, making a characteristically Harry decision- a rash, exuberant, intuition-driven thought that just feels right. And as he leans forward, closing the gap between them, he knows there’s no going back.
He’s going to get them out of here. Destroy the diadem. And- Goddamnit- Draco is going to get another chance.
Draco’s eyes fly open as Harry presses their lips into a soft embrace. It’s as if kissing fucking Harry Potter causes more of a shock to his system than the venom coursing through his veins, and suddenly he’s wide awake.
His hands are tingling; he’s nauseous; the room is spinning. And absolutely no part of that has to do with the injury to his leg.
Draco relaxes; allows himself to succumb to the warmth that spreads throughout his body. God, Nothing had ever felt like this before. If this was the type of reprieve that dying got him, then by golly-
Harry pulls away suddenly, and the absence is heavily vacant upon his lips. His stomach twinges as Harry snaps upward. It is all too evident that they are no longer alone.
“Potter! I fucking found you! You’re dead!” The voice belongs to Crabbe, and Draco is just coherent enough to make out his figure. He’s accompanied by Goyle, waving his wand about, attempting haphazardly to bring about some type of spell. Draco raises a weak hand to protest, but flames are already shooting from the tip of his wand toward a pile of rubbish beside them.
“Fu-fucking fiendfyre,” he whispers, and realization dawns on Harry as he realizes what Draco’s said. Crabbe wasn’t joking. They needed to get the diadem and get the fuck out of there.
In the nick of time, the door opens to reveal Weasley and Granger, who immediately hurl spells at Draco’s childhood friends. The robotic henchmen that he’s realized were no more loyal to him than his own father. They were blind, the lot of them, sightlessly following orders from the Dark Lord. Draco dodges, protecting his face from the fallout. Magic sparks the air, and an urgency radiates between all parties as Crabbe’s flames begin to violently spread.
Harry squeezes his hand before jetting forward, climbing the Mound of Things to retrieve the diadem. Crabbe and Goyle are distracted momentarily by the fire, which has formed the shape of a large serpent and seems to be forming ideas by its own volition.
Ron Weasley stares with his mouth open as the snake rears it’s head, and even Crabbe seems surprised at his own doing. Hermione, in a fit of logic, grasps his hand and pulls him from the direct path of the flames as the serpent strikes.
Harry’s tumbling, struggling to find hand-holds in the pile as things get heated. He’s almost to the diadem, and Draco is silently willing his thoughts to persuade his victory. He can hardly move, and in the midst of chaos he notices that his leg is tingling.
In the next moment, several things seem to happen simultaneously. Harry suddenly grabs the diadem. Ron and Hermione have summoned brooms and are hastily mounting their only means of escape. Crabbe and Goyle back away, terrified, as the snake turns on its master and slithers toward them. Draco observes it all, shaking slightly as his muscles contract involuntarily. His leg, it’s burning, and it’s as if the more the flames travel from object to object the more consuming the pain becomes.
Ron and Hermione are ascending rapidly toward Harry. The flames are climbing higher, ignited on old parchment rolls and other treasures from previous students. Harry is pulled onto Ron’s broomstick as he steers to the exit.
Harry screams objections, yelling at his friend to turn the broom around. Draco’s stomach lurches at the sentiment, but he knows it’s over for him.
The serpent’s attention is diverted to the trio as they halt and sharply turn backward. Weasley’s grumbling is barely audible above the high-pitched whine of the fire, and Draco begins to cough as smoke chokes the air.
The snake strikes, and a shower of flames lands around him. His leg, it’s on fire, it’s on fucking fire...
The pain intensifies. He’s going to pass out soon, he’s sure. His flesh is screaming, but all he can vocalize is a string of choked coughs. His throat is raw, but it’s nothing, nothing compared to the bite of that fucking snake...
He’s barely conscious, but he feels a tugging sensation on his limbs. And then he’s weightless, like he’s riding on air. The pain, it’s lessening. He must be close to death...
Harry. He thinks of that kiss, the one that forever erased the line between good and evil. How ironically it was the most alive he’d ever felt. And how if heaven was real, and if Draco Malfoy was lucky enough to end up there, he’d spend an eternity reveling in that one moment.
He allows his thoughts to consume him, until his leg is painless. He’s floating, flying... until he’s not.
He feels himself fall, tumbling forward, and then the slam of the floor against his chest brings him back to reality. His eyes flash open, miraculously, to find that he’s facing the entrance to the Room of Requirement. The door is closing, and there’s a serpent, and the room is engulfed in flames...
But as it seals shut, he’s left in the silence that he suddenly realizes is indicative of his safety. Next to him is Granger, pulling Ron to a standing position. On his other side is Harry, fucking Harry...
He’s lifting himself from the floor and begins running straight toward Draco, bruised and splattered with soot. Before he can open his mouth to speak, Harry’s arms are thrown around him.
“Your leg, Draco! How is it?” He pants, pulling away slightly to examine the wound.
But it’s vanished.
Draco’s mouth falls inexplicably, and he’s unable to make sense of anything that’s happened in the past ten minutes.
He gapes stupidly, breath heading as he grasps the fact that he’s suddenly fucking alive and his leg doesn’t hurt and there’s no bite. And Harry fucking Potter is still holding him, and it’s so much that he can’t handle it.
Overwhelmed with emotion, he stares at Potter, who’s a fucking light at the end of the incessant, winding tunnel that’s been his life the past few years. He becomes lost in the details of his face, cheeks flushed crimson with adventure and green eyes peering from behind glasses that were probably permanently crooked by now. He pulls his lip between his teeth as he too contemplates what happened.
“Fiendfyre.” Granger’s voice pierces the quiet confusion. “It’s a dark enough spell to destroy a horcrux. That’s why when you dropped the diadem, Harry, it disentigrated.”
“Oh my God, Hermione, Nagini is-“
“A horcrux.” She finished, and Draco glanced between them. Ron’s eyes were glazed over, and for the first time in his life Draco Malfoy felt he could relate. The logistics of it all quickly faded however as Harry’s eyes positively brightened.
“Draco, I don’t know fucking how, but when the fiendfyre caught your leg... it must have reversed the effects of the snake bite.” He’s smiling, a wide, wholesome grin, and Draco finally catches his breath.
“I’m- I’m not dying,” he declares, more to himself than anyone else, and Harry’s still beaming as he presses a continuation of their earlier kiss to his lips. It’s war, but in this brief moment, they’re fucking happy, and that’s all that matters.
“You know, I’m not dying, Hermione,” Ron tries with a helpless shrug, and she blushes before slapping his arm.
“Come on, boys,” she says determinedly to them all, “we’ve got a war to win.”
