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@gxmmadraconis
a canon divergent DRACO MALFOY attempting a tentative comeback once more; however, before i commit myself to this blog i would like to test his voice in a more relaxed setting. so without further ado—if you are interested in writing a GOLDEN TRIO ERA 8th year / post-war && post graduation au, LIKE or REBLOG this post and i will hop into your IMs for a discord information exchange !
nottasaint:
Theo’s eyes scan across Draco’s words so fast his eyes barely move. But then, he’d always been a speed reader and it came in handy whenever Draco was in one of his ranting moods and needed parchment after parchment to get his point across. After all, a normal conversation wouldn’t be one they would come by anytime soon, it seemed. He hummed. Normal. This was his new normal, having to converse with his friend through notes and one-sided conversations and subtle looks. Dare he say, he was starting to miss Draco’s voice.
The force of Draco’s shove had made him take a step back and the words on the paper made him laugh as he carefully folded it and shoved it into his pocket. “Sure, hate is the word. We’ll go with that.” He allowed Draco to pull him along the castle, though he couldn’t resist making it a bit difficult by slowing his gait. A worked up Draco was humorous to him. “And for the record, you’re only a good flyer in comparison. The others can’t exactly fly in a straight line…” This wasn’t exactly true, he knew, and perhaps he shouldn’t rile Draco up so much before something was important to him but…he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t.
He had let his eyes and mind wander as they walked across the grassy hills of the school yard. Sitting around watching people fly (or hopefully crash) wasn’t his idea of a good time but…if it put a smile that that back on Draco’s face he’d sit through it and wait as long as he needed to. If this was the closest to back to normal as they were going to get, he’d stake it. He didn’t want it, but he’d take it. After all, Draco’s been punished enough.
He hummed when Draco tapped him on the arm and held out his notebook. His eyes briefly scanned what Draco had written before he snorted and handed it back. “They can get all the beaters they want, we still have brick houses posed as people on our side.” As he spoke they passed a few of the prospects for the team which only made Theo’s lip curl at the mere sight of the…largely built players. “I rest my case.”
Theo followed Draco’s pointing with his eyes and immediately set up to the top of the stands. He propped his feet up on the seats below him, once sitting, and pulled out a book, almost immediately burying his nose into it. Nothing spectacular had happened yet so it didn’t deserve his attention. But he did puase and lift his head to ask as he stared at the pitch rather than at his companion, “So, what happens if everything works out for you? You make the team again. And then what? Everything goes back to normal? You feel like your old self again? It’s not going to last. What’s the point?”
The teasing did make Draco bristle a bit, but he let it go with a roll of his eyes. Theo was just being Theo, dragging his feet—literally and figuratively—was simply something he did to amuse himself. Besides, Draco knew his worth on a broom. Sure, even without his ... circumstances, he'd never play professionally, but he was a top Seeker on Hogwarts' level. Without Potter and his freakish natural talent, Slytherin would have taken the Quidditch Cup instead of Gryffindor in the previous years.
He snickered silently at Theo's comment on the Beaters. He wasn't wrong. Beaters, especially in Slytherin, had always tended to be almost too large for flying. It was the one position where strength and endurance beat speed, after all. Size was also good for intimidating the opposing teams. Draco allowed himself to miss Crabbe and Goyle and their brutish ways on—and off—the field, but only for a second. No need to dwell on that can of worms at this moment. He glanced at the aforementioned players; no doubt at least one of them would make the team.
Unlike Theo, as soon as the two sat down Draco's eyes were glued to the pitch. He assessed the players from the distance, guessing which students were trying for which place on the team based on their size and build. The brick houses were easy to distinguish from the rest, and there were a couple of students who looked smaller compared to the others—most likely trying for Seeker, then. Draco squinted. One of the would-be-Seekers looked much younger from the rest, so he most likely wouldn't make the cut. As for the others, well, Draco would just have to wait and see.
Draco really hadn't planned to try out for the team, but there wouldn't be any harm in trying if everyone on the pitch turned out to be useless, would there? Even if no one liked him on the team, they could use him to win; what else mattered? Draco missed practise and the thrill of chasing the Snitch more than he liked to admit. Playing wouldn't change anything, but maybe it would help him take his mind off things.
His head turned fast to Theo at his words, expression falling briefly before it was replaced by a blank mask and Draco looked away. It's not going to last. Like Draco didn't know; he didn't need Theo telling him that. The quill pressed a tad too hard against the notebook when he wrote his response. He gritted his teeth.
⌜ Can't I just do it because I enjoy Quidditch? Why does it have to have something to do with—this? Or whatever you mean by "normal". I like flying, that's all there is to it.
Or do you just want me to be miserable all the bloody time? ⌟
He struck through that last sentence, knowing full well that it wasn't what Theo really wanted. His friend was simply a brutally honest person, and probably didn't want Draco to get his hopes up for nothing. But that didn't mean the honesty didn't sting. Still, Draco didn't want to fight or regret asking Theo to come with him. He added a couple of more lines beneath the struck out question and tossed the notebook to Theo.
⌜ It doesn't matter. My broom is out of date, anyway. It would take weeks, if not longer, for a new one to arrive if I ordered one. ⌟
CAROL. DIRECTED BY TODD HAYNES 2015.
“Don’t do this.” “Everything comes full circle.” “Have you ever been in love with a boy?” “How could you have known?” “How many times have you been in love?” “I always spend New Year’s alone.” “I barely even know what to order for lunch.” “I have a friend who told me I should be more interested in humans.” “I have no clue what is best for me.” “I love you.” “I’m closing the door.” “I’m fond of anyone I can really talk to.” “I’m no martyr.” “I’m wide awake! I’ve never been more awake in my life!” “I never looked like that.” “I release you.” “I took what you gave willingly.” “I wanna ask you things.” “I want to see you.” “Just when you think it can’t get any worse, you run out of cigarettes.” “My angel. Flung out of space.” “Tell me you know what you’re doing.” “Please believe that I would do anything to see you happy.” “She’s my responsibility.” “What are you saying? Are you in love with a girl?” “What are you thinking? You know how many times a day I ask you that?” “What you do on Sundays?” “Why do you hate me? I haven’t done anything to you.” “Wine makes me feel naughty; but, in a good way.” “You had no idea.” “You’re drunk.” “You’re trembling.” “You smell good.” “You think you got what it takes to handle a redhead?” “You’ve got some fucking nerve ordering me around.”
scventhhorcrux:
“ i thought, maybe if we tried hard enough… ”
harry choked back a sob. crying in front of draco malfoy, what a disgrace he was. he was such a goddamn mess these days, and this was the breaking point.
“ i cared about you! ” he suddenly yelled, voice echoing in the otherwise empty corridor. “ was this all just a game to you?! i actually loved you, and you’re throwing me away like i’m a piece of trash! how am i supposed to feel? ”
his voice had risen at least five times the volume it was five seconds ago. his clenched fists shook as they rested at his sides, and for one moment, he wanted to sectumsempra draco right across the corridor.
“ fuck you. ”
it’s better this way. let harry draw his own conclusions and become angry with draco. the truth isn’t always the better alternative—no, the truth would only make draco look pathetic and what’s even worse, harry would try to fix things, and not just to keep them together but for draco’s sake, because he’s just that kind of person.
so, even though being yelled at and being accused of things that aren’t true hurt, draco won’t correct harry.
he grabs his arm with his hand and angles his body away from harry, grey eyes remaining fixed on the floor. he doesn’t have the heart to throw oil at the flames otherwise. the ugly sneer comes easily to him at least.
“yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, potter?”
you didn’t say anything
House of Black | Astronomical Names >> print available
workplace relations.
gramenviride:
She glances at the patients he refers, but mostly she listens to the list of addictions. It’s interesting enough, and she can already see how different people look depending on the substance they’re withdrawing from, and how advanced they are on that stage, though she knows it’s too early in her career to pinpoint who is where and who’s addicted to what.
“Is it hard? Group therapy? I mean, does it usually go smoothly or do you have patients throwing things around because of either other patients, healers or just the conversation itself?” she asks, though it is more out of curiosity and to fill her imagination than out of real interest. Astoria can see herself working with singular patients, but working with a group at the same time sounds like an ordeal she isn’t sure she’d manage if she worked in this ward.
She welcomes the common room more than she thought she would after the heavy atmosphere of the ward. It is almost like they are in a different place, the light after the grey dark area just behind them, and everyone is laughing and happy, just the opposite of the patients they left behind.
“I think you found your element,” she admits, smiling at him and taking a seat in a chair beside him. Draco looks at home in there, like Hagrid looked at Hogwarts, like her father looked at the Ministry. Some people just simply belonged to a place, even though Astoria had never imagined seeing him as a healer and working in that ward. “And I’ve learned to come to every ward with an open mind, or I’d never get tired of wondering why people transfigurate their heads into teacups.”
She doesn’t know what to think about it, really. Of course his work is interesting, and it’s certainly different than other wards, but if she were to work there, would she be able to do it? With her own sort of alcohol addiction, she could relate to some patients, but would that make her a good healer for them or would she think of them as what could have been of her, and get personally involved in their stories? That was not what one wanted from a healer; she needed to be professional and leave her personal side at home. “I’m not sure how I’d feel working here, though. It’s almost like I feel the calling but I also feel myself pulling back from it, wanting to leave it and stay at the same time,” she confesses, shaking her head and looking at him. “Don’t worry if you didn’t understand what I said, it’s just as confusing to me.”
Draco blinks. What an odd question, he thinks, and his lips quirk into an amused smile. Perhaps he should have expected it—people certainly have their stereotypes about addicts, recovering and otherwise—but Astoria being a Healer trainee, Draco assumed ... well. It does not matter. He gives a small laugh and shakes his head. "No, there's nothing like that. Of course, since it is therapy, things can get quite intense and emotional at times, but everyone is here out of their own free will. They want to share. Some days less, some days more."
Astoria's visit has been something of an eye opener for Draco. It's been a while since someone's reminded him how removed the everyday life of the ward can be from the outside world, despite how normal everything is once you're inside. No wonder everything is so new to her.
It's a reminder of how little mental health is discussed—or even treated—in the wizarding world, even today. It's a sobering thought; there's still much work to be done.
He throws his head back and laughs openly at the teacup comment, grim thoughts replaced by warmth—for now. He files the reborn determination away for later, and focuses back on the present moment with Astoria. Draco's pleased that even a stranger such as her can see that he's made his place here. He grins with pride he never thought he could possess, not even as a child—pride born from hard work and learning from his mistakes. Looking at Astoria, Draco knows that's waiting for her in the future as well: he's worked in the hospital long enough to know that the road to becoming a Healer isn't a smooth one. "I think I have an idea of what you meant. However, if it's a Healer you want to become, I don't think this ward is the right one for you. Like I said, we do things differently here. I suggest you at least try the job you've been studying for—de-transfiguring those teacups back into heads is important work," he says with a smirk.
‘til death do us part?
gramenviride:
He knows how to conquer her still, knows how to make her heart beat just the tiniest bit faster. She hates it. It’s as though she’s his puppet, and then not at all, because he doesn’t treat her like a trophy. They respect each other, and though they’re not happy, they have learned to give each other space, and she has learned not to expect much, but take everything he offers her. She doesn’t think of the absurdity of it anymore. She’s married and she’s not happy, but she’s not the first and won’t be the last.
“It’ll be just one day, anyway, I think he can take a break off work for one day.” Although she can see how interesting a job could be when things at home weren’t in a happy place; she uses her own job as an escape. And that’s her silent agreement that she doesn’t think Draco would manage to convince Theo to join them for a meal. Astoria knows they were fairly close at Hogwarts, but whatever happened between changed their friendship, and she gave up asking after the reply was ‘friendships change’ multiple times. It is as though there is something he doesn’t want to tell her, or she is just seeing things where there is nothing, because her imagination has always been too big for her sake.
They live in a sea of green, the trees and the grass meeting the sky in the horizon everywhere she looks, and maybe a change of scenario will be good enough to at least fill her lungs with other smells. And if her imagination doesn’t fail her, she’ll see just how they could have been, and she could fill herself with some happiness for a whole; it’s easier pretending when you can talk to other people and you don’t need to only focus on your husband. “
Immense relief fills Draco and he lets out a breath, tension he had not been aware of leaving his shoulders. He allows himself to stand slightly less straight and smile at her wife, at their perfect little marriage; at least for a little while longer. While he's not looking forward to seeing Theodore or his wife, not really, he can put up with it if it makes Astoria happy. She deserves it.
She deserves more, only Draco's streched himself thin to offer her this much.
He reaches to brush his fingers against Astoria's face, tracing her cheekbone with his knuckles and letting his fingertips rest by the corner of her eye. Draco can see the hints of tiredness there, and it's obvious they've been gathering there for a while now. He's not sure if he's hoping they're not permanent for her sake, or his.
Draco drops his hand and his eyes to the Prophet once more, breaking the enchantment he knows was cruel to create in the first place. He treasures her friendship so much but Draco knows he's killing it slowly by dragging this out—sooner or later whatever feelings Astoria still has for him will transform into hatred, or, if he's lucky, indifference.
(When's the last time he's been lucky in his life?)
"I shall look forward to it," he tells her, wishing he'd feel as sincere as he sounds.
@scventhhorcrux continued from here.
“—no.” draco’s tired. he’s just so, so tired. it shows in the purple shadows beneath his eyes and in the way his usually perfectly maintained hair droops around his face. it sounds in his voice, weak and rough around the edges.
“it’s just ... did you really expect it to work? us. us.”
a laugh. a shake of his head.
nobody else did. draco isn’t sure if he ever did, himself.
I will forever want justice for every female character who was demonized by fandom because their canon ties to a male character was deemed a threat to a popular slash pairing.
♚ ✘ ♧
the mun's interpretation
♚ Do you agree with fandom interpretation of your character?
To be honest with you, I don’t feel like there’s a common interpretation for Draco in the fandom. It varies plenty. Mine isn’t strictly canon, either. There are a couple of tropes, however, that I do disagree with: the Bad Boy™ and the Slytherin Prince tropes, for example.
Also, I feel like people (sometimes myself included, oops) focus too much on the “the boy who had no choice” thing and forget he wasn’t just some poor victim in the series; he was a fucking awful little boy in more ways than one.
✘ Any unpopular opinions about your muse?
Other that what I said above ... idk? Dram.ione is a gross ship and they have zero chemistry????? Also wtf is up with the Silver Trio, stop erasing Crabbe and Goyle (and Theo ) k thx bye.
♧ Any part of their canon portrayal you dislike?
Mmmm, honestly, I quite dislike Draco as a person throughout the first five books. I like him as a character for his role in the series, but he’s just. so. awful. Then there’s the epilogue and everything that came afterwards but as I refuse to acknowledge that bs it doesn’t really matter lmao——
Hallway Catastrophe
phoenixchosxn:
Harry stays sitting calmly while Draco rises, not wanting to make the other boy think he’s being pushy, or to feel threatened(preposterous as it is to consider Malfoy might feel threatened by him). His fists clench, though, as he reads the words, and once the paler boy is standing he can’t help himself, he pushes himself to his feet quickly, whole body tensed as if ready for a proper fight.
“It’s not pity, damnit!” Harry snaps, voice rising in volume and ringing out through the empty halls, and he flinches at the volume of it himself, and his voice was much quieter- almost a whisper when he asked, “Was it pity when you risked your own life and lied about recognising me?” He let the words linger in the air, forcing himself to calm down, then sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, the action pushing his glasses up a little and ultimately looking somewhat silly.
“I never thought it was, anyway. And I don’t need you to feed me any lines about it befitting you in the long run or any of that crap. It was dangerous, and you’re known for being a coward.” Harry crowds into Draco’s space a little, with no intention of letting him off easy this time. “And now you’re doing a fine job of taking care of yourself- what do you think might have happened if I hadn’t sent them off when I did, huh? And what about next time when it escalates more? You’re one man, Draco, and you’re powerful, and skilled, sure, but you’ll only survive something like this on luck and skill for so long if you’re alone. It doesn’t have to be me, but for your own sake, let someone help you.”
When you risked your own life and lied about recognising me.
Draco has always thought they had a silent agreement not to talk about what happened at the Manor. Draco still can't explain why he did what he did. He's lied awake all night more than once wondering about alternative outcomes to what happened; though it had worked out for him in the end, protecting Potter had been foolish. Even though he attempted to redeem himself the best he could afterwards—or appeared to, anyway—he could have been severely punished for his failure to identify and capture Potter and his friends. He touches the faint scar on his cheek that remains from the messy fight.
It hadn't been pity, but it had been no turning point for Draco, either. Potter is giving him way too much credit for it.
He feels caged both by Potter's proximity and his words. Draco has no idea how to escape Potter's saviour complex without giving in—but giving in isn't an option.
⌜ In case you hadn't noticed, the War is over. It's just some hexes and jinxes, Potter. Stop making an issue out of it and just stay away from me, alright? I'm sure there are other people you can waste your heroics on until graduation, and then we won't have to see each other ever again. ⌟
So um holy shit somehow I’ve managed to hit over five hundred followers. This is fucking weird for me, as in memory I’ve only ever had two other blogs hit this milestone in my five years I’ve been on tumblr, but I honestly cannot put into words how flattered I am honestly that all of you are here?? I am well aware that my portrayal of Luna is UNCONVENTIONAL, but I do try very hard at this. I could probably go on a five page spiel about how much I love you all &. how much I love Luna, but for now I’m gonna cut this short &. below you’ll find my (much abridged) bias list for Luna. If you’re not listed I’m sorry but know I still love you, I just can’t list everyone I want to or there would be hundreds of people.
@ambitiocaecus || @braverytaught || @chosenforthis || @curiousxempath || @cruelveined || @eccentriclookingwizard || @fairmodesty || @fightingsouls || @firesingedsoul || @goblinreign || @gxmmadraconis || @gryffindorhead || @loathedlineage || @moonthropic || @motherofasgard || @ofblissfuloblivions || @ofdraconis || @peremos || @pvrseltongue || @pxreblccd || @thekingofweasels || @wildmoored
@harrypotdar
Does Draco truly not realise Harry is provoking him on purpose, or is he just going along with it because he enjoys their bickering? Who knows.
⌜ Merlin, Potter, I know for a fact that you were at the -94 Quiddicth World Cup. Do you not remember the final? Krum caught the Snitch but Ireland won anyway—goals matter and if you won't let me make enough of them because you can't wait for your moment of glory, I will knock you off your broom. ⌟
a new years thing before i fall asleep !!! because im suddenly hella inspired thank u mack @nottasaint
Draco isn't really one to romanticise the last day of the year, much less the first of the beginning year; he knows better than to expect for anything to magically change when the clock strikes twelve, especially now. Even so, Draco feels exceptionally warm despite being on the roof, surrounded by snow.
Mostly thanks to the Firewhiskey, but Draco's willing to give his company some of the credit (possibly also thanks to the Firewhiskey).
After spending one of the most depressing Christmases ever with his mother at the Manor, Draco's returned to Hogwarts for the rest of the holiday. They'd contemplated not doing Christmas at all, but in the end Narcissa had wanted to try; now she's in France, no doubt regretting their attempt as much as Draco does, if not more. It had been doomed from the start and Draco is relieved to be back at school, as fucked up as that is.
He casts a silent Tempus—there's still fifteen minutes until midnight. A large snowflake drifts down and lands on the tip of Draco's nose, taking a moment to melt despite the Firewhiskey flush spreading across his face. He wrinkles his nose.
⌜ If that's not a testament to how bloody cold it is out here, I don't know what is. Who's idea was it to get up here, anyway? ⌟
continued from here (x)
Something there’s dark alright. Draco rolls his eyes inwardly. He suggested they’d try experimenting with Legilimency to see if they could communicate more easily, but clearly Theo doesn’t think it’d be a good idea. If he’s honest with himself the rejection stings a little, and he can’t help but wonder what it is exactly that Theo doesn’t want Draco to see. He tries to keep his disappointment from showing on his face, but he’s never been too good at hiding his emotions; he turns his head away when he can’t keep the pout off from his face.
It’s not like he doesn’t understand. What he suggested was incredibly intimate and Theo’s a private person. Draco just wishes Theo could trust him a little. That and he’s getting tired of the notes—and increasingly more worried that so is Theo.
⌜ Maybe you’re right. I have to deal with enough of your moody shit as it is. ⌟
Theo’s eyes squint a fraction when Draco turned his head away but he lowered his eyes back to the parchment he had been tapping his quill against for the past ten minutes, leaving a large ink splotch rather than the essay he was supposed to be working on.
It was safe to say that Draco had caught him off guard with his question. Occlumency was something he’d been practicing ever since he knew what it was, mainly to keep his father out to save himself a night of being shouted at. He could keep Draco out easy with his words or a simple look if it was needed but his mind? That was his one safe place and while he did trust Draco…he wasn’t sure about letting him in to some place so vulnerable. It wasn’t a place even he visited that often, choosing the cold confines of reality.
“Guilt trips get you nowhere,” he commented lazily, flipping the page of the book he was using as a reference. Not that he really needed it, he could write the essay in twenty minutes if he wanted to. He was just distracted. “And if it really bothers you, you could seek other company.” It wasn’t a challenging statement, moreso one that he knew would bother Malfoy because…who else was left? It wasn’t as if they had their pick of new friends to choose from. Not that Theo wanted any.
⌜ I could. ⌟
There's a flippant curve in the letters of the response just as there is one in Draco's displeased expression—no reason to look too disappointed if it's not going to get him anything. Besides, it doesn't matter whether Draco's mood is visible on his face or not, since Theo can read him as easily as the words on the parchments he's working on. And considering it's Theo who's making Draco feel so sour ... Draco's almost tempted to really get up and leave. It's pride alone that keeps him in place, his flair for the dramatic tamped down by his unwillingess to admit how much the rejection stings.
⌜ We don’t have to; it was only a suggestion. I know you don’t like having to pause your work in order to read what I have to say. ⌟
That, and having writing (and gesturing, but that is also more difficult because of the former) being is form of communication is so limiting. Being limited in anything he does or desires to do is unfitting for a Malfoy, for one thing, but just Draco is frustrated with the situation as well.
Not that Legilimency would sort out all of his problems, even where Theo is concerned, but it would be a step in the right direction at least. It's off the table (for now) though, and Draco wants to move on before Theo gets the chance to brush him off again or needle him further.
⌜ When are you done? ⌟
HARRY POTTER FANCAST;
Dane Dehaan as Draco Malfoy
