#dracomalfoy

[arishatistic]

A cover for @inadaze22’s fic “Measure of a Man,” commissioned by @/thingamapins89 

[ales-art]

And here’s the last commission of January. A fanfiction cover for Marina Furman. She considered me knowledgeable enough about Hogwarts professors, which resulted in this little fandom comeback :)

While the world is going crazy over Dramione, we’re enjoying Potter and Malfoy in their teaching era.

P.S. They’re happy because electronic gradebooks haven’t been introduced yet…

[mssorceressupreme]

Truth or Dare | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Fred realises his true feelings for you once you are dared to french kiss George during a round of truth or dare. Draco then forces you to kiss him instead, which only results in a brawl. You then take Fred back to the common room and help clean his wounds.

Warnings/tags: violence/fighting, jealous!fred, kissing, non-con touch, Draco being a git (sorry malfoy lovers 😭), cleaning wounds after a fight trope, reader isn't in a specified house here, spicy ending (if u squint)

———

The Ravenclaw common room had never seen a gathering quite like this. The enchanted blue flames flickered in the fireplace, casting a radiant glow over the room, which today, was packed with students from all four houses.

Luna had invited everyone over, claiming that a “spontaneous social gathering” would be a great way to pass the time and forget about your studies for a while.

The usual gryffindor group, Cedric and some hufflepuffs, the slytherin trio and Cho, all decided to partake in this gathering.

And so, there you all were, sitting in a large, chaotic circle on the floor, playing a game of truth or dare that had long spiralled out of control.

The rules were simple: if you refused a dare or a truth, you had to take Veritaserum and spill your deepest, darkest secret in front of everyone. No one wanted to risk that.

So far, Harry had been dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, which led to him—rather sheepishly—kissing Ginny, earning a gag from Ron. But moments later, Ron found himself a stuttering mess when Hermione had been dared to sit on his lap for two rounds, her face burning red while he struggled to keep his cool.

Neville, poor thing, had been forced to recount an embarrassing moment where he tripped down an entire staircase in front of his crush, which turned out alright anyway because they went to Madam Pomfrey together and spent the whole day chatting.

And now, it was your turn.

Draco, who sat beside you, leaned in with a smug grin. “Alright Y/N, let’s make this interesting,” he drawled. “I dare you to French kiss the person sitting across from you.”

You turned your head, your stomach flipping.

And there sat George Weasley, grinning at you like he had already won.

The room erupted into cheers, and George wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “Well, Y/N, I won’t say no,” he teased, leaning back on his hands.

Your heart sank a little—not because George was a bad choice, but because you wished it was his twin instead.

Still, rules were rules.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up and took slow tentative steps across the large circle, kneeling in front of George. “Alright Georgie, just get it over with,” you muttered, cheeks burning.

George chuckled. “Hey! At least pretend to be excited.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling lightly, before leaning in, pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back easily, bringing a hand to your neck, letting it linger a moment longer than necessary before you pulled away, flustered.

George gave you a grin then winked, and you smiled back. He was one of your closest friends, after all; teasing you came naturally to him.

"Okay that's done!" Flustered, you rose up and hurried back to your spot next to Draco.

"You guys are adorable." Cho, who was sitting on the other side of you, nudged you gently, and you laughed nervously.

Sure, George was handsome, humorous, and kind, but he wasn't Fred. To most people, they were pretty much the same person, two halves of a whole, but to you, it was different. There was something about Fred that you saw differently.

Speaking of Fred, you shot a quick glance in his direction, curious as to his whole reaction regarding the scene that just unfolded.

Fred hadn’t said a word.

He sat stiffly, arms crossed, his jaw tight as he glared at his twin. Something in his chest twisted when he saw George’s smug grin.

But it wasn't entirely George's fault. You see, no one knew of Fred's secret crush on you. Would you call it a crush? Man, feelings were a complicated mystery to Fred, he never bothered going down that lane, it was foreign to him. Best avoid all that sappy stuff, y'know.

Draco, however, was unimpressed. “That was pathetic,” he scoffed, leaning closer to you. “You call that a French kiss? It had to be longer.”

You folded your arms, tilting your head to the side. “You didn’t even say how long.”

Draco smirked. “Fine, then, two minutes. You can do it on me instead. Save you the hassle of walking over there again."

The room let out a collective “ooooh,” and your stomach churned.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Crabbe, Goyle and Dean chanted.

"Wha—I already did the dare!" You countered, raising your hands in defence.

"Hmm now that Draco mentioned it, it was a bit of a short kiss, barely a French kiss, more like a Portuguese kiss." Lee agreed, resting his hand on his chin.

"Portuguese kiss? That's not even a thing you git." Angelina chortled, throwing her head back.

Before you could react, Draco leaned in slightly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers barely grazed your cheek, but it was enough to make you shift uncomfortably. He patted your head, smiling like he was doing you some kind of favour.

You didn’t like it.

But Draco was your friend, and this was supposed to be fun, so you ignored it. You didn't want to ruin the mood for everyone so you forced yourself to tolerate it.

Fred, however, wasn’t ignoring it.

His hand was clenched into a tight fist in his lap, and his usually mischievous eyes were laced with something entirely different.

Draco leaned in again, wrapping one arm around you. “Come on, then,” he murmured, his smirk widening. “Or do you want the Veritaserum?”

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You didn’t want to kiss him. But you definitely didn’t want to take the serum, either.

Draco took your hesitation as an invitation. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re scared.”

The crowd cheered again, urging you on.

Draco removed his arm then ruffled your hair slightly, "Don't be a wuss, I'll make it enjoyable for ya."

"Don't be scared Y/N, it's only a kiss!" Seamus encouraged, hoping to make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse.

Only a kiss? You wanted to save french kissing for someone special, not some ridiculous dare.

Draco leaned closer, nuzzling his nose into your neck. His hand brushed against your arm, he was so close that you could now smell his fresh scent. You leaned back instinctively, smiling awkwardly while brushing your arm.

Everyone was so caught up encouraging the two of you to kiss that no one paid attention to the speed at which Fred stood up from the floor and bolted to Draco, tackling him harshly.

A collective gasp echoed through the room as the two of them crashed onto the floor. Draco barely had time to react before Fred punched him, his face twisted in pure rage. The two of them were now in a brawl, wrestling each other on the ground. It was clear that no one was going easy on each other.

“Keep your hands off her,” Fred snapped, his voice low and furious.

Draco, stunned for only a second, sneered up at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

"Fred! Oi! Stop, it's just a game!" Lee's attempt at stopping Fred with his words was useless.

Fred wasn’t listening. His fists clenched, his breathing heavy as he pinned Draco down, gripping his shirt harshly.

Draco’s smirk returned. “Merlin, are you jealous Weasley?”

Fred loosened his grip, blinking slowly, "I..."

"Called it. Bet you wished it was you getting to french kiss Y/N then. Why don't you let me finish my dare with her so I can show you how it's done eh?" Draco remarked, all too obnoxiously for Fred's liking.

Fred's eyes grew darker, laced with furiousness.

He lunged again, and in a matter of seconds, they were full-on fighting.

Gasps and shouts filled the room as they tumbled, fists flying, knocking over a pile of books and scattering cards from an abandoned wizarding chess game. The flood thudded heavily, as they continued their wrestling.

“Fred! Draco! Stop!” Voices pleaded, but they were drowned out as Fred was blinded by rage. How dare Draco force himself onto you like that?!

No one listened.

You watched them in pure horror as they fought; you joined the others in yelling at them to stop, but none of them listened.

Hermione immediately went to comfort you, placing a comforting hand on your arm and sending you an apologetic look. Was this all because of you? You felt like shit for causing this, bloody hell, you should've just french kissed Draco.

“Merlin’s beard, Fred, stop!” George tried pulling his twin back, but Fred shook him off, shoving him away.

Cedric attempted to pull Draco off Fred, but Draco pushed him aside, scoffing, "Not now Diggory!"

Draco, despite being an arrogant prat, was also a decent fighter, and he managed to shove Fred back, wiping a bit of blood from his lip.

“What the hell?!” you finally yelled, eyes darting from Fred to Draco.

Fred froze.

His furious gaze met yours, his chest rising and falling heavily, as he wiped some blood off his lips.

He swallowed hard. Then, without a word, he turned and stormed out of the common room.

You hesitated only a second before running after him.

—

You found him on the astronomy tower balcony, leaning against the railing, gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white.

The night air was cold, but Fred’s skin was burning.

You took a deep breath. “Fred—”

“Why don’t you go check on Draco?” he cut in sharply. “Or George. Your boyfriends.”

Your brows furrowed. “They’re not my boyfriends. You're being ridiculous now.”

Fred let out a short, humourless laugh. “Really? You were getting pretty cozy with George back there.”

You sighed. “It was a dare, Fred.”

“Oh, and Draco just happened to be all over you?” He turned to face you, and that’s when you saw it—his bruised lip, the cut on his cheekbone, the faint traces of blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Come on, I know we're friends but I can handle myself." You assumed he was being protective as a friend, so you attempted comforting him, but failed miserably at doing so.

"Yeah, friends." He pressed his lips together.

You took a step closer wanting to reach up, but Fred’s eyes flickered elsewhere. “Don’t.”

You froze.

“I don’t need you feeling bad for me,” he muttered, turning back to the railing. His grip tightened. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, Fred,” you said softly.

Silence stretched between you. The wind howled through the tower, whipping his hair slightly, but Fred didn’t move.

Your gaze drifted to his hands. His knuckles were raw, bruised from the fight.

Without thinking, you reached out, gently prying one of his fists open. He held his breath, glancing down at you.

Your fingers traced the swelling on his knuckles, your touch featherlight. “We need to clean this up.”

Fred didn’t protest. He just stood there, his jaw clenched, watching you. He released his breath, silently agreeing.

Wordlessly, you pulled his hand in yours, leading him down the spiral staircase, away from the cold, away from the fight, away from everyone else.

—

The fire crackled softly in the Gryffindor common room, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The common room was empty—everyone was either asleep or still in the Ravenclaw tower, talking about what had happened.

Fred sat on the couch, his arms resting on his knees, his head tilted slightly downward. He hadn’t said much since you dragged him back.

You returned from the bathroom with a damp cloth and knelt in front of him.

“Hold still,” you murmured, gently dabbing at the dried blood on his lip.

Fred flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. He just watched you, his hazel eyes unreadable, though there was a glimmer of something, awe, perhaps. His eyes studied yours, the way your eyebrows furrowed as you focused on cleaning his wounds. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, you were the epitome of beauty in his eyes, a darling angel.

You focused on cleaning him up, biting your lip. The silence between you was begging to be broken, heavy with something left unsaid. But you chose to ignore it, shifting your focus to getting Fred cleaned up. You see, it was the way you were always so caring towards everyone, so kind, always selflessly giving your time away to help those who needed it. That was part of the reason Fred had fallen for you in the first place, your kindness.

Fred exhaled sharply as you pressed on his wound.

"Sorry..." you mutter, but he gently removed your arm, and rested it on his knee.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” he said suddenly.

You paused, looking up at him. “Stop what?”

He let out a cheerless laugh. “This. You. Making me feel like a complete idiot.”

Your heart pace increased. “I—”

“Do you know what it’s like?” His voice was raw, unfiltered, a slight rasp as he spoke softly. “Watching you? Seeing every guy in that room touch you? Kiss you?” He shook his head. “I nearly lost my mind.”

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away.

“Never thought I'd admit it, but I’ve wanted you,” his voice low, almost trembling. “For so long, and I—” He broke off, exhaling harshly. “And then tonight, I had to sit there and watch it. Merlin, it drove me so bloody mad.”

Your hands were shaking. Was this it? The Fred you never thought would ever return your feelings, about to spew the words right out?

Fred’s eyes locked onto yours, something desperate behind this gaze.

“I hate that you don’t see it,” he muttered.

“See what?” you breathed.

His lips parted, and for a second, he hesitated.

“That I love you.”

Your breath caught, inhaling as you paused.

Fred let out a rough laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Godric, I love you. I don’t just like you, I love you. And it kills me because I know you don’t feel the same way so I just thought I'd keep it to myself but here we are."

Your heartbeat felt as though it was pounding loud enough to wake up the whole dorm.

“You idiot,” you whispered.

Fred blinked. “What?”

“You idiot,” you repeated, your voice shaking. Then, before he could react, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his with all the emotion you've held back, the words you've been dying to say to him.

It was nothing like the kiss with George.

This was everything.

Fred let out a soft, startled sound before his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. His lips moved against yours, desperate, breathless. He kissed you like he had something to prove, like he needed you to know how much he meant it.

And you did.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, getting up from kneeling and he pulled you onto his lap, now straddling him in the common room, to which you were thankful that no one was around.

A soft moan escaped you, as he sucked on your lower lip, your hands tangled themselves in his fluffy hair, tugging lightly.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, you whispered, “I love you too.”

Fred let out a quiet, shaky laugh, resting his forehead against yours. “You better.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, and he grinned.

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, kissing him again as if there was no tomorrow. He smiled into the kiss, desperately needing a round two with you, his Y/N.

[aleiinad]

[nadiapolyakova]

Kaine Ferron. Alchemised. @senlinyu Don't make any changes. Ask permission when using

[reggiesgrinningsoul]

Harry might be big spoon when cuddling but the minute it's time to go to sleep Draco is wrapping Harry in his arms and letting Harry rest against him through the night.

[dariaastrid]

On the cover of Witch Weekly was Draco Malfoy, a golden Snitch hovering above his outstretched hands. The only other decoration was the tangle of roses inked where the Dark Mark had once been, the stems climbing to his shoulder and curling around his bicep. A naked Malfoy stared out with that sly smirk, and she could almost hear his voice in her head, reminding her she’d soon have to face him in person.

Merlin, she hates him, and that's worth remembering. 

Hermione, you hate him. Wings, ink, love Art by FLYORA.

[mastermindmiko]

Healing

Pairing: George Weasley + Reader Word count: 1k Summary: You comfort George after a big fight (The fight in the fifth book with Draco Malfoy) Warnings: Injuries? I think that is all, but lmk if you notice anything Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

I take in a deep breath and then knock slowly at the boys’ door. No response. I knock again, and instead I hear a grumble. I take it as a sign to slowly open the door, I take a peek from behind it, and George is sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. Fred, on the other hand, is lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. 

“Hey.” I murmur, and George tilts his head to see me from in between his fingers. He doesn’t smile at me like he usually does, and it makes me believe that this time is worse than the rest. Fred, sits himself up on his elbows, and he looks as though he’s in much better shape than George is. 

I purse my lips and look back at George again. I take a few shy steps towards his bed, and then sit down beside him. He shifts a bit to the side allowing more room for me. I look back at Fred again, but it turns out he’d already read my mind and left the room after giving me two thumbs up. 

I place a tentative hand on George’s thigh, and it makes him lift his head up from his hands. I could see the way his face was contorted, frowning, scrunched up brows, and his jaw clenched. I note the obvious, “You’re pissed.” 

I almost feel stupid saying it because of course he would be. Malfoy was out of line, more than usual, but instead of a few insults this time it resulted in a fight, and George got expelled from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year, and to make matters worse this is his last year. He replies, “I’m not pissed, I’m hurt.” 

It’s my turn to frown because the words that that git Malfoy said couldn’t actually be getting to him, could they? I voice, “George, you couldn’t actually care about what he said. He was just saying it to get a reaction out of you. His best insult was calling you a weasel, he’s an idiot for Merlin’s sake!” 

“Doesn’t make any of them less true.” He protests. I’m baffled by his response, I say, “No, they aren’t-” 

“Yes, they are.” He snaps, and he scrunches his face up, eyes shut in regret at raising his voice. He cups my hand as an apology, brushing his lips over the back of my hand before explaining, “He’s right. We are poor, and the clothes we wear are hand-me-downs-” 

I interrupt him, “I will not go a second longer listening to you talk about yourself, or your family that way. Money doesn’t matter as much as you’re making it seem. And surely, you’re not going to let comments from an idiot who cares more about blood status and money than what a person is actually like get to your head.” 

“But, wouldn’t you like to have more than what the money that I have can get you?” He implores, and I give him a weak smile. Raising my hands to cup his face, my thumb grazing the scratch that he has across his eyebrow. I say, “And we’ll have that, George.” 

I teased him a little more, “You still are planning to open the shop, aren’t you?” A small smile breaks on his face, and he even lets out a small chuckle. The air feels lighter around us, and George leans closer to me to press a kiss to my lips. I sigh, the feeling of it never gets old. 

I look down at his hands, and frown at the sight of the blood. George was the one who gave out most of the blows and punches. He was too angry after the fight, and left stomping to his room. I wanted to insist that he go to Madame Pomfrey for his injuries, but I could tell he needed some time to blow off some steam, that’s the reason why I waited before talking to him. 

“Do you want to go to the Hospital wing to heal those?” I ask, and he shakes his head, looking down at his knuckles, presumably, remembering that they were bleeding. He rests his head on my shoulder, and my shoulder is weighed down. He hums, “I’d rather not face anyone for a while.” 

“Don’t worry, I can heal them for you. Not as good as Madame Pomfrey, but it’ll do for now.” I decide, bringing out my want from my robes. I start to wave my wand at the cracks in the skin, and mutter small enchantments. The small ones fade away, but the larger ones leave small scars on the skin. I rub my thumb over his hand to signal that I’m done, and George twists his head to leave a small kiss to the base of my neck. 

I raise my hand to lift his head from off of my shoulder, and hold his chin, raising my wand to cast a spell over the scar that slashed across his eyebrow. I bite my lip at the sight of it. George questions, “What is it?” 

“You look so good with that scar.” I admit, feelings my cheeks heat up at the confession. He smirks at me, and I can already hear the teasing coming from a mile away. He grins and says, “Such a shame for you that it’ll go away in a few days…of course, I can get into more fights, so you’ll never have to do without it.” 

I hid my face in his chest in embarrassment and he wrapped his arms around me, laughing at my reaction. I mumble, patting his back gently, “Stay out of fights till we see what we can do about this Quidditch suspension, alright?” 

He pushes me away from his chest to look into my eyes. He leans down and kisses me once, and twice and another one after that. He says, “Thank you.”