#darry fanfic

[morosefloweret]

mine for the summer; a drarry summer romance for the one direction fanfic fest

wip, 2/13 • rated m, mature

// i can’t believe it’s already here! i’ve been working on this darling fic since january (??) & i’m so excited to share with the class! drarry is the reason i joined fandom, & while i may be “known” (ew?) for my dramione works, drarry will forever & always be my otp

happy reading 🫶🏼 click here to read on ao3

[silence-between-seconds]

Singer Harry AU

(of course he loves music how could he not?) music was his core!!! and the whole Fawkes' phoenix song thing Harry was moved by it in both the parts it was mentioned, Chamber of secrets and half blood Prince after Dumbledore died

The Dursleys never supported any of his talent duh so he just never thought about it. One day he steps into his office in the Auror department, covered in blood, and decides he's had enough. He quits. He's done being the wizarding world's golden hero. He brainstorms what he should do instead and somehow ends up revisiting his love for music. So he writes about his emotions and practices and sets himself free. Harry decides to do concerts to raise money for charity to help people who've suffered financially due to the war (remember those wandless in Diagon Alley? Yea all wixen like them) So ofcourse because he's The Harry Potter boy who lived twice and basically a god after the war, people pay up to go to these concerts.

Draco runs a charity because the guilt of the war and the imposter syndrome doesn't let him rest until he actually does something and because he's Draco "go big or go home" Malfoy he administers all of it himself. Cue enemies to business partners to lovers

The chapter with him actually attending one of these concerts for the first time and harry singing a love song about him but because they are Bad With Feelings misunderstandings happen and Draco goes all "he obviously doesn't like me who did he write the song for" Damn by Cameron Philip has this line "how could I hate you I am your biggest fan" and I was immediately like DRARRY HARRY SINGS THIS SONG AS A BIG FUCK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS USED HIM FOR FAME AND/OR AS A CHILD SOLDIER:

(I may write this but I'm posting about it so I don't give it up)

[dictacontrion]

“Potter.” Malfoy approaches their table and nods, once. “Weasley.” “Alright, Malfoy?” Ron pulls a face at Harry when Malfoy looks away, although he keeps his tone neutral. “As well as can be expected in this hovel.” Malfoy’s lips purse together and he checks his ostentatious watch, revealing his slim wrist and a flash of pale skin. Ron bristles because attacking the Leaky Cauldron is a personal insult as far as Ron’s concerned. “If it’s so crap, why are you here?” If Ron’s words cause Malfoy any irritation he doesn’t show it. “Because I thought it might be the sort of place I’d find Potter.” He turns his gaze on Harry, his lips tilting upwards in a smug smile. “Cheap, poorly decorated and casual to the point of slovenly.”

Under the Same Sky by @writcraft

[thandra]

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's Owl Additional Tags: Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, Introspection, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Song Lyrics, Inspired by Music Series: Part 3 of Love Songs Challenge Summary:

He failed, what a surprise. He feels like he should have it on his tombstone, since it's the story of his life: Draco Malfoy, never actually succeeded in anything at all.

[queenofalotofdifferentworlds]

Don’t Worry - As if That is an Option

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917618/chapters/40796222

When Draco looked back at his life, he knew he had been meant for great things. He came from two very old, mostly pure and almost not inbred families; he had good taste, the best education you could get and he was clever. He had learned eagerly to please his family and his own expectations. His parents had provided him with love, gifts and lessons in every field required to be great.

That went all pear shaped when his father decided to follow a psychotic megalomaniac. In his father’s defence, that megalomaniac with a disquieting fondness of torture had been saying what everyone else thought. Although after being in his service for almost a year now, Draco had started to slightly question his worldview that had seemed logically for so long. Thinking about it, Draco decided that everything must have been pear shaped for all his life, but he simply hadn’t known.

What would he have said, if someone had told him he would one day stand in front of the nutter Albus Dumbledore and ask for help, in the presence of the insufferable Scarhead no less. But that was Harry Potter’s calling wasn’t it? Surviving what shouldn’t be humanly possible to survive and fucking up everything Draco touched.

Dumbledore looked down his long, broken nose and took his sweet time to respond. They weren’t in a hurry or anything. The old man must know that every second they stood there in silence his mother was in danger of being the target of the Dark Lord’s wrath. And the likelihood of that happening, high on every other day, was increasing by the second.

“What seems to be the problem at hand?” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, an aura of relaxation around him, but Draco wasn’t fooled. He saw the glint in the old man’s eyes and the stiffening of the shoulders. He was taking one moment to contemplate how to start and what he wanted to be done first when Potter, as always, vomited out what must be passing as thinking in his brain.

“Sir, Voldemort has tasked Malfoy with killing you. Obviously, he isn’t very good at it.”

Draco almost forgot to shiver when he had to squash his immediate need to contradict the Gryffindor. He didn’t want to blurt out that he could have killed the headmaster if he actually wanted to. For one, he wasn’t keen on saying that he didn’t want to kill Dumbledore. Secondly, he wanted his help. He was so wrapped up in keeping his mouth shut – something Potter should learn to do, too – that he almost missed Potter’s next words.

“We have to help him.”

Dumbledore’s eyes settled on him once more and Draco knew without a doubt that the great leader of the light side would want something in return. For all that Dumbledore had done for Muggleborns and Squibs, he was quite Slytherin in his ways. A praise as much as a warning.

“Am I right to assume you sent the necklace and the poisoned mead?” Dumbledore asked calmly, as if he hadn’t figured that out by now. Draco loathed to think anything positive about the old fool, but everyone who ever read any article written by him had to know he was brilliant – a fucking nutter, but brilliant.

“Yes, sir.” Draco held his head high, trying to fight the blood that wanted to colour his cheeks. How long would the Felix Felicis ‘help’ him?

“I would have thought you to be more creative in your attempts.” Dumbledore smiled good naturedly at him and Draco had almost turned on his heel. That must be his answer. The damned luck potion was still in action.

“Sir.” Potter stepped closer to the desk, turning his back on Draco. “I promised him that we would help him.” His tone was lower, darker, with a hint of his rebellious blood. Draco knew that tone well. Not that he spared any of his attention on the bloody Saviour when he wasn’t tormenting him.

“I am not sure…” Dumbledore began, but Potter interrupted him.

“Now, Professor.” There was no room for a discussion, no room for disagreeing.

Draco dragged his eyes from Potter’s back to Dumbledore’s face. For just a moment the serenity vanished and something else was visible there, before Dumbledore covered it up with a bright smile.

“Of course, my dear boy.” Dumbledore stood up and walked around his unnecessary large desk. “What do you have in mind?”

Draco noticed that he asked his dear boythis and not him, Draco, who was the person in question. As if he needed any more proof that the old wizard favoured the Gryffindor.

“Mister Malfoy?” The old wizard looked straight at him with those piercing blue eyes that he had thought blind before realizing that the mad genius liked to play the nut job to fool others. In all honesty, he was living the role quite convincingly.

This was not the time to hesitate or think about his dying social standing while he stood here. Nor was it the time to think about his possible future. For one, he could actually have a future that might not contain torture in it. Granted, that was a very slim chance, but more than he had an hour earlier. It was also not the moment to think about whyhe had it and whohe owed it to.

“My mother.” Draco tasted copper and salt on his tongue. “If you get my mother out and keep us safe, I will…” Draco hesitated. He would what? Dumbledore wanted something in exchange, Draco knew that much, and he would probably be off easy because of the fucking Golden Boy standing between them. So, if he offered him information, that might be enough. He could buy himself out. Get his mother and himself out of the country, trusting in the stupid Gryffindor that he wouldn’t die simply because the universe wouldn’t let that happen.

He made his gravest mistake yet. He looked in the green eyes of the man that had faced the Dark Lord and had fought back. Draco didn’t know everything. It was forbidden to talk about it, but of course that meant the Death Eaters had talked about how Harry Potter, a fourteen-year-old, had stood up to the most powerful wizard in the world. How he had withstood his Imperius. How he had survived his Cruciatus. And he had fled under his non-existent nose. Draco knew that he had done other stuff. The rumours about Potter and his entourage were colourful and he had believed them full of shit. But in this moment, looking in those bright green eyes, full of pain knowledge a boy his age shouldn’t have and an understanding he would never accept, Draco answered.

“I will join your fight.” In his defence, he told this to Harry Potter and not Albus Dumbledore. Although that might be even worse.

Potter smiled.

It wasn’t the free smile that showed his teeth and took away the lines of pain and dread. He ever only showed that smile to the Weasel, his know-it-all-girlfriend and very few others. Neither was it the sneer full of distaste and schadenfreude that he showed Draco normally. This was something new. There was pain in the smile but also hope and understanding. It was heavy but freeing all the same.

“Mister Malfoy, I fear we will need a little more… insurance than your word. I believe you are bearing the Dark Mark on your arm?”

Draco’s right hand shot up to his left underarm on which the accursed mark branded him a Death Eater. A follower of the wizard who was too stupid to kill a fucking baby. These things were so fragile you could kill them with very little effort. Throw them out a window, put them in a bath tub or lay them face down on a blanket for fucks sake and he still got himself Avada-Kadavered.

“What do you suggest… professor?” Draco controlled his feelings with his proper Malfoy upbringing and didn’t glance at the Gryffindor that was so infectious that even looking at him dragged you down to his stupid level.

The old man smiled a reassuring smile that made Draco very nervous. If that smile was any indicator what the old wizard had in mind, he was lucky if it was an Unbreakable.

Draco and Potter were ordered to stay in the Headmaster’s office under the watchful eyes of his Phoenix who either was mad himself or had a terrible taste in human companions as it sat down on Potter’s shoulder the moment Dumbledore had rushed out the door. Presumably to either arrange the saving of his mother or laugh his arse off that the heir to the noble Malfoy House was begging for his help. One of the two. If he was lucky.

The Gryffindor sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk, balancing the bird on his shoulder. He carefully petted its feathers and mumbled something to it.

Draco pointedly ignored the sight as a) it was Potter b) that stupid flammable bird ignored him c) the office was full of stuff he could look at and d) it was fucking Potter.

“Sit down, Malfoy. This may take a while.” Potter’s voice was calm. It was the same calm tone he used on some of his mad followers. It was also the same tone he used when he told his little friends that he, Draco, wasn’t worth fighting with. Which was obviously a lie, so this could be a lie too. But what was the lie? That he was calm? That it could take a while? Or did he know that Dumbledore was out there wasting time just to come back and tell him that it didn’t work?

Potter wouldn’t do that. Draco didn’t think much of the so-called Saviour, and truth be told, no one with more than three brain cells could. Mostly because Potter couldn’t have more than two, but that was beside the point. He wouldn’t do that. For one, Potter had written lines with his own blood just because he wouldn’t quit telling the truth when it would have been in his best interest to do so. Secondly, he put family and friends above everything else and he saved people he didn’t even know just because of the fucking principle. He had savedthe little sister of what’s-her-face two years ago in the Triwizard Tournament even though she hadn’t been in danger in the first place. If Potter wanted to use all this against him, he would have done so already. Experience showed that he wasn’t as noble as most people believed, but he couldn’t stand injustice. One of the many reasons it was so much fun to torment him. He probably could not fathom that the world in itself was unjust.

“What will take a while?” He asked as casually as he could. This was his mother’s life on the line after all. Who could be all casual in a situation like this?

“Whatever Dumbledore will do.” He turned to look at Draco, still balancing the massive Phoenix on his shoulder. That thing had to weigh at least ten kilograms, but the asshole didn’t even seem to notice.

“Don’t worry, he will get your mother out.” He said it with confidence, but Draco had learned to read the Gryffindors expression at least as good as his little friends. It was his calling to torment the git, so of course he had spent quite some time to study him. Potter was worried. It worried Draco that Potter was worried.

There were different ways to approach this. He was a Slytherin after all and didn’t have to blurt out whatever came to his mind first. He could make fun of Potter, provoking a reaction and asking as soon as he was riled up. Or he could tell him to fucking mind his own business. Draco could be worried if he wanted to; this was his mother after all and Potter couldn’t possibly know what he was going through right now. Another option was to throw the last remnants of his dignity out of the window. Of course, that was the option Draco choose.

“And why the fuck shouldn’t I worry? Because Dumbledoreis going to risk someone goodto save a Death Eater?” Draco spat at the insufferable Gryffindor. “Why the fuck are you even still here? Don’t you have to go to your friendsand tell them all about how I fucked up yet again? And while you’re at it you can clarify that we don’t have a thing!”

Potter didn’t take the bait. He even looked puzzled until he seemed to understand the implication and started laughing, the git.

“That’s not what Hermione meant.”

Be that as it may, but that was exactly what everyone else thought right about now.

“And what did she mean then?” Draco hissed, very much annoyed himself now that Potter was still so calm.

Potter’s gaze flicked to the side, as if he needed to think of a convincing lie, but when he looked back, his expression was serious, as if he had made a choice. “Hermione probably thought I finally lost my mind and dragged you to Dumbledore’s office to expose you as a Death Eater.”

Draco stood there quietly, waiting for sensible or at least more information. The Gryffindor didn’t give any.

“That is exactly what happened,” Draco said in an even voice, pretending to be as calm as the clearly mentally challenged scar head was.

The corner of Potter’s mouth twitched, revealing a glimpse of white teeth. “I got you here to help you and that is a totally different matter.”

Draco started at the other boy, because contrary to former delusions of his, he was, in fact, just a boy. Granted, a boy with an annoying tendency to survive evil megalomaniacs, but still just a boy. And in this moment, Draco might have believed that smile, sad, with a hint of hope and a – in Potter’s case – too small amount of self-deprecation.

“Why are you here, Potter?” Draco’s voice was cold and sharp, a tone he knew well from Lucius. That tone alone could make ministry officials jump. Potter didn’t even blink.

“There were times where I would have needed help and didn’t get it.” He evaded his eyes, staring at one of the book cases, as if seeing whatever hundred situations that might have been.

Draco had to bite his lip to not ask him if he had to butter his own toast one time when none of his fans were at hand. About fifteen minutes ago, the biggest teacher’s pet in Hogwarts had blasted open the Headmaster’s door just to help or possibly stop Potter. When had he ever needed help and hadn’t got it? Dumbledore bent the rules regularly to make life for the damned hero more convenient. If the stories were true, both, the Weasel and the Know-it-All had risked their lives – even if that couldn’t be that much, taking in count who they were – to help and or save the saviour. A fact Draco liked to point out in detail, because if Potter was as great as the dumb believed him to be, why would he need saving?

“I never want to feel that helpless again, and I will never not help a person who feels helpless.” Potter’s voice had changed. It was hard and irrefutable, heat revealing its that statement and resolve. And something else.

Draco looked at the expression on the face he had thought he hated. Potter’s lips were pressed into a thin line, as if making sure he kept his mouth shut. His eyes, serious and determined, didn’t allow any questioning of what he had just said.

If Draco had known this last year, he would have gleefully constructed a plan to humiliate Potter right down to the bones. Right now, all he could think was: damn you, Felix.

This is the second chapter of Trust, which is the second part of my What-if?-Series. You can both find on ao3

What if?: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1210239

Felix Felicis: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396760

Trust: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917618/chapters/39746832

@ensignanna @writer-or-whatever @will-you-drarry-me

[le-outsiderz]

Day By The Lake- Darry Fanfic

#29- “Daddy, look at the turtles!” - Requested by anonymous - Warnings: none - - - Alice had never imagine having a family. It’s not that she didn’t want one, but the idea had never crossed her mind until nearly four years ago when the pregnancy test came out positive.

She wasn’t scared of being pregnant, just confused. Darry sure was happy though, and because of that, she was too.

Now they had a three year old. Beatrice was a happy, healthy little girl. She had wispy blonde hair like her mother, and sparkling blue eyes that had to come from her dad. She was beautiful.

The small family was at the lake today. They were taking care of Sodapop's house while he was on his honeymoon with his new wife, Sarah. Near the house was a large lake, where people spent their days feeding ducks and swimming. Alice and Darry sat on a picnic blanket as Bea played with some dirt nearby. Alice was setting up lunch, and Darry helped to the best of his ability, when out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw her daughter get up and run in their direction. She smiled. Bea went to her dad, who grinned when she sat down between them. "Hey doll." He said, picking her up and placing her on his lap. She quickly got up and started tugging on his shirt. "What is it?" "Daddy, look at the turtles!" Beatrice said in an excited tone, gesturing from him to get up. Darry followed the little girl to the edge of the lake and looked in the direction she pointed in, acting shocked and surprised. Alice laughed. What a perfect family. - - - A short one but a good one

[dictacontrion]

YOUR UST LINK IN YOUR MASTERLIST ISNT WORKING thought you'd want to know and do you have any fics where Draco or Harry is in denial about being attractived to the other preferably a hog warts fic :)

MY UST LINK IS WORKING NOW THANKS!! And I can help you with this one, too!! Fics below. Enjoy them and please leave kudos and especially comments for these amazing authors!

Drarry Recs: Denying Attraction (Hogwarts Era)

Azoth by zeitgeistic- NC-17, 89k - Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione foreighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and iteither has to dowith Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly,does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneouslyimpress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy tryingnot to be in love with Malfoy to care.

The Beast and the Aloof Prat (Who’s Scared) by lumosed_quill - NC-17, 2k - What happens in the lake…well, it probably won’t stay there.

Disintegrate by RurouniHime - NC-17, 3k - Draco has it all figured out: what he wants, what he needs. But some things are meant to be overturned..

Duel and Duality by barefacedbandit/cryptonym - NC-17, 1.5k - Apparently Potter and Malfoy don’t know the difference between fighting and f***ing.

I Am Your Shadow by eidheann - NC-17, 3k - Love (n) An intense feeling of deep affection. Yield (v) To give up or surrender (oneself).

Kiss the Joy (Until the Sun Rise) by icmezzo NC-17,38k -The Room of Requirement was severely damaged in the war, but notso much that it could not provide for one lost student and another younghero—especially when they needed each other most of all.

The Lesbian Muffin Debacle by abusing_sarcasm- R, 7k - Pansy and Ginny have a muffin-induced potions accident andDraco and Harry are stuck watching their love life from the sidelines -quiteliterally. Fortunately, they’re able to give each other a hand.

Mate by LadyVader - NC-17, 15k - Draco’s a Veela and does NOT want Harry for his Mate - well TOUGH ;P

Riddikulus by maybegasoline- NC-17, 6.5k - Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’ newest invention comes toHogwarts, and fucks things up in the eighth year common room. “'A Bludg-gart?’ Harry asks in disbelief. ‘That’s, like, the worst name ever. How do you even pronounce it?’”

Skulking by teshara - R, 8k - When Harry follows Draco out of the castle, the last thing he expects isto become caught up in a bonding ceremony. When they realize they’regoing to have to learn how to live together neither of them is happy,but sometimes things have funny ways of working themselves out.

The Ties That Bind Us by faithwood - NC-17, 28k - An accident leaves Draco and Harry bound tightly together. Literally.

Tug-O-Want by Cheryl Dyson- NC-17, 16.5k - Harry is back at Hogwarts minding his own businesswhen he finds himself magically drawn to Draco Malfoy. Over and overagain.

Twice as Much as an Earthquake by firethesound -NC-17, 18.5k - Accidental bonding. Breaking and entering. Conspiring,however unwillingly, in the strange one-man war Malfoy’s waging againstdetention. This isn’t the normal school year Harry anticipated having,but at least it’s not boring.