#drawble

[digthewriter]

PROMPT H— A large brown dog for slythindor100 + Prompt: Visitor for newyearcntdown.

“Meet Bruno” (AO3)

"Malfoy!"

Potter's voice gave Draco a start as he wasn't expecting anyone near the dog shelter. It'd been a few months since Draco had seen Potter in a social setting; a year since he'd spoken to the man.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I could ask you the same thing!"

Draco shook his head. Was Potter following him, thinking he was up to something?

"Follow me," said Draco as he entered the shelter and didn't wait for Potter's reply.

This has been one of Draco's favourite hobbies of late. He played with his favourite pal, Bruno, as Potter watched.

[beyondtheclose]

Glass Bonds

by @beyondtheclose

written for the drarry discord drabble challenge january 2022, for the prompt “glass”, wc 222. art restriction: art nouveau 

They scheduled the bonding months in advance. A private event, just Harry and Draco and the bonding specialist, the day they return from their honeymoon.

They land in the portkey arrivals and head straight to the Bonding Division, still dressed for the Greek sun.

Linked hands, a spell, a ribbon of light.

Mind Bonds are delicate. If it doesn’t take…well, they’ll be hard pressed to find someone willing to try again. No one wants to mess with mind magic. The first 24 hours is crucial, when it will either cement, link them together. Or shatter, like glass; one wrong move and it’s in pieces.

It was Draco’s idea to do the bonding after the holiday; as stress-free as they’d ever be and an extra day to be joined at the hand before work. What wasn’t accounted for was the waiting owls. The emergency summons for Unspeakable Malfoy.

Harry feels Draco’s stress levels spike—feels through the bond, which is bizarre and incredible and also worrisome because the bond is fragile. 

Harry braces for this new miraculous connection to be extinguished.

Draco looks at the letter, looks at Harry, then shrugs, a strange feeling like mental laughter passing through the bond.

“You may as well come. I doubt I’ll be able to keep it a secret from you much longer now that we’re bonded.”

The amazing @laudh8 (who tumblr is currently not letting me tag help) did a podfic of this you can find here which I am so grateful for and is so brillant! (also I love your comments thank you thank you)

[ratcreature]

[image: a pencil sketch of a Dalek working on a Scream like painting on an easel, a drawble for mekare]

[potter-art]

"If Our Love Was a Storybook"

Some Drarry fluff for the July drawble challenge :)

[greenmegsnoham]

This Christmas

Written and Illustrated by Drarry_Quite_Contrary

Drarry Rating: T Fluff/Humor

“Oi! Draco! Hurry up, or the good ones will be gone!”

“I don’t understand why we have to do this,” huffed Draco, stomping down the stairs. “This is just so...”

“Muggle?” said Harry.

Draco sighed, “Yes.”

“Please, Draco. I’ve never had a real muggle Christmas before.”

“And why must we start now?”

“Humor me, Draco. Growing up, the Dursley’s made Christmas anything but jolly. Yes, Christmases at Hogwarts were wonderful, but it’s not the same when it’s yours. Your home. Your family. I never had any of that until you.”

Draco blushed. “You’ve always had family, Harry. The Weasleys. Granger.”

Harry grabbed his old Gryffindor scarf, wrapping it around Draco’s neck. “Of course they are. But this is different.”

“I know.” He kissed Harry’s scar. “As sweet as the sentiment is, I still don’t understand why we have to go to a muggle...what was it? Tree farm? We can conjure a tree. The perfect tree.”

“Draco…” Harry gave him a knowing smile.

“I hate the cold. This sounds miserable.”

Harry laughed. “If I have to wear a suit to your parent’s Christmas party, you can manage an hour in the snow.”

“An hour?!”

“Oh, stuff it, Malfoy. Leave your wand and get in the car.”

———

“Are you going to pout the whole way there?”

“And the whole way back.”

“You’re lucky I find it endearing, or you’d really be fucking up my first muggle Christmas,” clipped Harry.

Draco’s features softened. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more...jolly.”

“Oh, please don’t. That sounds terrifying.”

Draco snorted. “But...a car?”

“How do you think we’d get the tree back?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a quick Reducio and Apparate directly into our warm and cozy bungalow?”

“You’re no fun!”

“You knew full well when you married me.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I love you too. Right, here we are!”

Draco gawked at the sign. “Peter Pine’s Pine Plantation? You’re joking.”

Harry parked the car, and they stepped out, Draco shivering violently. 

Harry opened the trunk, pulling out an axe. He rested it on his shoulder and turned toward a gaping Draco.

“What?”

“But they have...you know what? Never mind. Fuck, it’s cold. Let’s get this over with.”

——— Written for December 2020 Drarry Drabble Challenge Prompt: Tradition Drabble WC: 364 Drawble Theme: Children's Book Illustrations Read and Comment on AO3

[harrypotterandtheshittysideblog]

My first ever Drawble entry for May!! The theme was “The long way around” thank you to everyone who was involved!!!

Kofi

[mxmaneater]

Thanks to everyone this month for their comments!  Pop art was a fun restriction. 

His Name is a Curse

“Come with me,” he says, all languid confidence, the bravado of someone who has never been refused. His hand wraps around mine and tugs, sending me several steps in his direction before I even think to stop. Then I do.

“What? You’ve got something better in mind?”

The snobbishness hasn’t left his voice in all these years. Other qualities—like the viciousness—fade with time, but the snobbishness has never left; not really. It makes my blood boil in that way it always has.

“No, I can’t. I just…can’t.”

He smirks at me then, calling my bluff—reminding both of us that that’s all it is. That without his firm grip holding me thrashing beneath the stars, I am liable to dissolve into thin air. That his name is a curse best suited to my tongue.

He props himself against the wall, his hand a stark white line against the miles of glowering stone. “Potter, look at me.” His tone is sharp. Like the rake of his nails, like the point of his jaw. It hurts to hold him, sometimes, but the pain forgives pleasure in the end. And so, I can also forgive myself.

I’m looking at him—I have been; I never stopped—but my eyes are caught on his wrists, not his face. He tilts my chin slowly with his other hand, and I wonder again which “Harry” he sees on this night. Is it the Harry who walked, face blank, into the forest? Is it the little boy clutching a lantern, unicorn blood at his feet?

I can’t tell him how his presumptuousness calmed my frantic; how I fought so long against prophecies that I forgot how live without defying fate.

He murmurs “come with me” one more time, pressing my shoulder blades against stone.

In my mind, I answer: “I’m already here.”

Read on AO3

[gothkin]

titty meme: now in Andy flavor