#dark draco

[dara-art]

«they won't hurt you anymore, my love»

dark dramione vampire au

just because I can. I love seeing their dark sides (even if it's just in my head lol)

[coma-hp]

Draco Malfoy aesthetics

[madsswrites]

Cover art for "The Shape of Hunger" by ethereal_mads

Written for Death Eaters Do It Better Fest 2026 (fics revealed on March 20th)

Summary:

He was supposed to be the Dark Lord’s greatest weapon.

Instead, he became a monster that only craved her.

Or, in which Hermione is sacrificed by the Order to Draco in order to receive a cure for a toxin killing their soldiers. Draco takes it upon himself to make certain she never becomes a pawn again. 

[malfoysmugglemrs]

Tw: rape/non-con

Sharing the piece I wrote for the Ginny Fest 2025

🔗 Ao3 Link

[dainty-ghoul]

My thumb brushes over the dip in her neckline. ‘Give me what you refused.’

    It doesn’t take her long to realise what I’m talking about. ‘No,’ she grates, even when her body suggests otherwise: the way her pupils have dilated just from seeing me more clearly, or the way her fingers long to brush the white strands disrupting my dark, otherworldly eyes. Her pulse pounds beneath my fingertips—a willing prey.

    ‘Should I phrase it differently?’ I stop caressing the spot and instead enfold her neck with my fingers. ‘Give your rancid, obscene stalker what he wants, on the mouth, and for at least a minute. No forfeits. I don’t play like that.’

    She takes a deep breath, sounding like a growl. ‘You don’t play—you force.’

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[acanadianmuggle]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rated T - 3600 words - complete!

[cattvex]

Draco Malfoy | Death Eater aesthetic 💀

[devious--muffin]

Once Removed, Twice as Valuable

A Drabble for the @drarrymicrofic weekly challenge (and Summer Bingo!) Prompt: Brave

How does one define bravery? Is it something that can be learned? Something earned, like a badge? Is it inherent, or something passed down by generations?

Draco thought himself brave; he stood up for what he believed in, didn’t back down when faced with conflict or adversity, and held firm in his convictions. He knew he was in the right, and he was proud to be part of something greater than himself. He was brave, but he couldn’t understand why no one else considered him so.

The moment he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. The green of his bed curtains seemed more vivid, and his bedding more plush. He rose slowly, uncertain if he was still dreaming or if perhaps the potions from the night before were still in his system. It had been quite the party, as most of the house celebrated the return of the Dark Lord. It was regrettable that Potter hadn’t perished at his hand, but now that he’d been revived, Voldemort had all the time in the world.

Draco stumbled from his bed toward the loo, paying very little mind to his surroundings. If he’d been more aware, he’d have noticed the sixth bed in the room, and wouldn’t have been so startled to open the door on a half-dressed Tom Riddle. Of course, he didn’t know it was Tom Riddle, having never seen a photo of Voldemort during his school years, and only knew that the teenager standing before him was a stranger with a Slytherin tie.

He’d almost forgotten what the Slytherin dorm looked like, during his time. Draco opened his eyes to faded curtains, the pillowcase scratchy on his cheek, and the room filled with the not quite unfamiliar sounds of Goyle’s snores, and disappointment rushed through him. He sat up, his head nearly brushing the draping fabric above him, and realized he’d not only been returned to his old life, but time had passed without him while he’d been gone.

It was odd, befriending the future leader of the Wizarding world. It had taken Draco a solid month to realize that Tom Riddle and Voldemort were one in the same, and only then because he’d overheard some of Tom’s acolytes discussing his radical ideas. It had been quite a feat, convincing Tom to allow an unknown into his ranks. Draco was someone who, up until very recently, hadn’t been noticed by Tom or any of his followers, and he’d had to fabricate an entire backstory for himself that was both understated and believable.

As he proudly took the Dark Mark, formally accepting his role in history, Draco recalled the last few years of his life. He’d been involved in each of Voldemort’s reigns, though the Dark Lord had no idea, and he’d been integral to the foothold he’d gained in Wizarding society before his untimely demise. He couldn’t prevent the events in Godric’s Hollow, unfortunately having been sent back to his own time by unknown means long before, but he’d assisted in recruitment, and had been a key factor in both Lucius and Severus joining. He smirked, knowing that though he might seem like a new recruit, he was more embroiled than even his own father. He couldn’t wait to prove himself worthy in his timeline as well.

It was easy, getting Potter to fall in love with him. All he had to do was pretend to be remorseful, present a downtrodden and weary front, and he knew Potter wouldn’t be able to help himself. Ever the hero, his resolve would eventually break, and he’d be unable to move on without trying to provide a solution. Draco crafted the perfect cover, a sob story about how his family was in danger. He knew Potter held family in high regard, not having any of his own, and once he’d taken the bait, all Draco had to do was reel him in.

What had been a surprise was how quickly he’d been able to turn Potter. For someone held up as the Savior of the Wizarding world, it certainly took far less effort than Draco was expecting. Perhaps he was tired of the admiration, or maybe Draco was just that good in bed, but whatever the reason, Potter’s revocation of the Light helped Draco climb the ranks of the Dark Lord’s army, setting him up as his Second. Severus still held the honored position of Right Hand, his duality invaluable to the cause, but Draco had outranked everyone else, even Lucius, much to the latter’s chagrin.

As Draco stood at Voldemort’s side, hand clasped tightly with Harry’s on the steps of the Ministry of Magic, a genuine smile lit his face. He gazed out at the sea of believers; the crowd was comprised mainly of Pure-Bloods, as intended, with only a handful of useful half-bloods. They’d achieved their goal, crucifying the Muggles and eradicating the Muggle-borns from their sacred lands, and they could now live in peace and harmony with the Dark Lord forever at the helm.

He was brave, and so was Harry, and now the entire world knew it.