#hp request

[friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn]

Hey it's me I was wondering if I could have a headcanon based on my matchup what would it be like spending one night with Remus and they get a nightmare and how would he react

Sure! I kinda drew inspiration from my own experience with nightmares, hope that's okay!

Remus seems like the type to have pretty frequent nightmares himself, so he definitely knows how to deal with them.

He keeps an ungodly amount of chocolate by his bed just in case.

So if you ever get a nightmare while you're spending the night with him, be prepared to get so much chocolate. So, so much. You kinda wonder where he stashes it.

Okay, no, seriously though. Remus would be the sweetest.

He'd wake you up and make sure you were alright first. Only then would he ask if you want to talk about it. He doesn't push you if you don't.

If you can’t go back to sleep, he’ll stay up with you and you can’t convince him otherwise.

If you are going back to sleep, he… still stays up the rest of the night, in case you have more nightmares.

Either way, he holds you for the rest of the night.

Unless you say you want some space, in which case he’ll give it to you (albeit reluctantly).

If you need some fresh air, he’ll steal James’s invisibility cloak and sneak both of you outside.

Overall, Remus asks about and listens to your needs -even if that need is to be alone for a little while.

Thank you for coming back with another request! Sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Have a lovely day/night :)

[panda-noosh]

If you’re accepting requests could you do a Draco Malfoy x Reader fake dating AU?

this has to be the stupidest thing you have ever done.

and you've done a lot of stupid things, which is why you were most surprised when draco malfoy asked you to join him at his parents annual christmas dinner.

pretending to be his date.

you said yes purely out of shock, not even giving yourself time to think the decision over. yes, draco was attractive, and you had known him since first year, but never before had he even showed the tiniest sign of being interested in you romantically. if anything, he showed the complete opposite, sneering at you any chance he got, trying to upstage you in every class possible.

but you said yes, and now you're standing in the malfoy manor, and you aren't sure what to do with your hands.

it's such a stupid thing to be wry of when you're surrounded by dark wizards, all of whom have probably been linked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but it's the one thought running through your mind. do fancy, posh, rich wizards let their hands dangle by their sides, or do they fold them in front of them? do you go in for a handshake, or perhaps two kisses to the cheek? do you even say hello, or just scowl at them like how they seem to scowl at everyone?

"what are you doing?"

draco's voice startles you. you'd nearly forgotten he was there, standing by your side.

"nothing," you reply. "why? do i look weird?"

"you're flapping your hands about like you're trying to get lift-off."

you blink, awkwardly dropping your hands to your sides. but now they just feel too heavy, like anchors weighing you down, so you bring them back up to your front, try folding your fingers together like people do when they have lots of money and no sense of humour-

draco groans and grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers with his before you can protest.

"just hold onto me," he hisses, before a bright, fake smile flashes across his face. through your daze, you follow his line of sight to see narcissa malfoy stalking across the grand room dressed in all black, her hair pulled into a high up-do that looks like it needed some kind of spell to stay in place.

"mother!" malfoy exclaims. "how are you?"

"very well, dear, very well," narcissa replies, and you nearly melt at the smoothness of her voice. after listening to malfoy begrudgingly snap your name for years now, you had come to believe all malfoy's could speak only in snappy tones.

"glad to hear it," draco says, before turning to you. "mother, this is y/n. my date - the one i was telling you about."

narcissa's dark eyes land on you, and then it begins. you have to start performing now, because he's just introduced you as his date, and you're here to be his date.

you pull your shoulders back, grin and say, "nice to meet you!"

draco squeezes your hand, probably telling you to lower the chirpiness level a little bit.

you cough awkwardly and try again. "nice to meet you, ma'am. mrs malfoy. a lovely son you've got here."

narcissa raises a brow. "indeed. and i assume you're a slytherin?"

"yes, of course." you glance at malfoy. "slytherin supremacy, am i right?"

the words are like acid on your tongue, considering you're a gryffindor.

narcissa smiles, all tight lips and raised eyebrows. "yes. it's good to see draco has a little bit of common sense when it comes to who he courts."

you have to bite back a laugh; courts?

"well, what can i say?" draco chimes in. "there was just something about y/n here that. . . won me over!"

you can't help yourself. "it's the fact i'm better at quidditch than he is."

draco's hand tightens once again. "actually, i think it was that day you got a U in your transfiguration exam and you started crying when professor mcgonagall tried fixing the beak you'd given yourself."

"oh, no, i don't think that was it."

narcissa throws her hands up. "okay! well, you can tell us all about how you two fell in love when dinner is being served; i have other guests to greet. draco, kindly take y/n to your room until dinner is ready. i'm sure they must be exhausted after the days festivities."

draco nods before taking your arm and leading you through the sea of dark wizards, none of whom stop to say hello. you're kind of thankful for that, considering you have nothing to say to any of them; all your life, you have been told to stay away from the very people you are walking amongst, and you start feeling a little woozy.

draco leads you up a grand staircase to his bedroom, which is a surprisingly cosy room, with a single bed and a beanbag in the corner, painted emerald green. multiple quidditch posters are hung upon the wall, as well as a framed photo of some old man with the last name malfoy who looks as if he would step on a puppy if he had the chance.

you let go of draco's arm and wade into his room, running your fingers along the posters. "i didn't think you were allowed free will."

"ha ha," draco deadpans, closing the door. as soon as it's closed, he tugs his tie off and throws it to the floor, groaning in relief. "christ, i hated that."

you turn. "i did a brilliant job, i think. she'll be expecting you to propose to me pronto."

"you really had to bring up quidditch?"

you shrug. "i feel like i deserved that after telling her i'm in slytherin. i'm gonna have to do some grovelling to mcgonagall when i get back for that one."

draco rolls his eyes before flopping back on his bed. the springs creak beneath him, his long legs dangling off the edge. you stand in the corner, watching him with your arms folded; he really does look stressed out, with his white hair wild and the top buttons of his crisp black shirt unbuttoned, revealing a collarbone that has no right to grab so much attention from you, but does anyway.

he places his ringed hands over his eyes and says, "i just really hope this works."

"why?"

he looks over. "what?"

you step forward, wrapping your fingers around the black metal bed frame. "why is it so important that your parents think you have a partner?"

draco's cheeks burn red, and you know you've hit a point in the conversation where he is going to nuzzle back into his hidey-hole. you never questioned him when he asked you to do this, too overcome with excitement and confusion to do anything besides agree. now, however, you're here, in his room, and he looks genuinely distressed at the idea of this not working, and you're starting to wonder why.

"well?" you push. "i want to know."

draco rolls onto his stomach, buries his face in his pillow. "it doesn't matter."

"it does to me. i'm the one who's doing you a favour here."

"it's a stupid reason."

you flop on the bed next to him, face beside his own. he peaks an eye out from his pillow and narrows it.

"i want to hear it anyway." you poke his side. "tell me."

he sighs, rolling onto his back again, clearly restless. your shoulders brush, heads inches apart, and it would be so easy to elbow him in the cheek right now.

"my parents thought i was acting a little weird when i came home for half-term," he mumbles. "they were getting really worried, and finally my mother asked me if i was lovesick, and i just took the first excuse i could find and said yes."

you blink. "literally, only a malfoy would ask their son if he's acting weird because he's lovesick. what does that even mean?"

draco shrugs. "i went along with it the entire time, and finally just told them i had a partner back at school who i missed, and that was why i was acting weird. they believed it, and i've been in the lie ever since."

"wow," you breath. "so we've been technically dating ever since half-term?"

draco smiles sheepishly, which is answer enough.

you chuckle, staring at the ceiling. "so what was actually wrong with you?"

he pauses. "what?"

"well, you said you were acting weird. if you weren't lovesick, then what was the matter?"

again, even more silence.

you nudge his arm. "hey. don't just ignore me. that's rude."

"i was lovesick," he says, like he was trying to make that point obvious throughout the entire conversation. "that's why i was acting weird."

you stare at him, waiting for the punchline. you try to ignore the disappointment that slides around in your chest, the sudden urge to storm out. yes, draco is attractive, and he's a good friend, and maybe you're only here to test the waters, see if something really can come out of this, but you should have known better. this isn't some fairy tale. you're a gryffindor, and he's a slytherin, and that mix is just unheard of, completely disastrous.

"oh," you mumble, looking back at the ceiling. "that's. . . grim. who's the lucky person then?"

he stiffens.

"come on," you push. "you can tell me. i won't tell them, i promise. then i'll have to explain what we're doing here, and i'd rather keep this between us."

"you would?"

your head snaps to him. "you wouldn't?"

he shrugs. "well, i mean, if you wanted to tell people this was our arrangement, i wouldn't mind. i don't expect you to lie."

"draco, this entire thing is a lie. i'll be lying either way."

he purses his lips, and your heart thunders in your chest; this conversation is weird, and you don't like it, don't like the undertones to every sentence, the vagueness of it all. if he has something to say, you want him to just come out and say it, because you're not sure you can handle any more of this subtlety.

"so who is it?" you repeat, quieter this time.

he breathes in deeply, and then he reaches over and gently grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers in the same way he did downstairs when you thought all of this was just a bit of fun, that you were nothing more than a last resort.

"guess," he whispers.

you close your eyes, biting your lower lip. "i don't want to. i might be wrong."

"who do you think it is?" he rolls onto his side, pulling your hand to his chest. you refuse to open your eyes, refuse to look at him lest you break down completely. you've learned in your years at hogwarts not to get your hopes up for anything, not even something blindingly obvious. "y/n, tell me. who do you think it is?"

"crabbe?"

he chuckles, warm breath tickling your ear. "wrong."

"see, i told you i would get it wrong. i'm not good at-"

"it's you, y/n. you know it's you."

you exhale, slowly opening your eyes to meet his own. leaning on one elbow over you in the way he is, you can almost pretend you're back at hogwarts, not at the most uncomfortable place on planet earth in your opinion. you can almost pretend there are no dark wizards walking around downstairs, and that you and draco are just. . . together.

you bite your lip, eyes flicking down to his own, which suddenly seem so much more accessible. he catches your gaze and chuckles again, a noise that truly has the power to drive you insane if you let it.

he reaches over and runs his thumb along your lower lip. "do you want to kiss me?"

"i want you to kiss me," you reply, almost breathless.

he smirks. "why does everything have to be a competition with you?"

you shrug. "that's always how we've worked, isn't it?"

"yes, it is."

and then he kisses you, slow and delicate. he holds your chin between thumb and forefinger, but makes no attempt to guide you; he knows you're capable of doing this on your own. he wants to see what you do, what you're like when you're under his spell, and you can honestly say that you are, have been under his spell from the moment you started teasing each other back in first year.

so you kiss him back, slow and deliberate, letting him know that - to you - this is more than just some fake dating plan. this is real. this will continue once you leave this party, if only he wants it to.

and from the way he kisses you back, he wants it to continue.

[randomfandomimagine]

43 and 67 prompt with Hermione Granger please?

Cool, I haven’t written much for Hermione and I love her! Thanks for requesting :)

Hermione Granger x Gender Neutral Reader

-

Quidditch was always a thrill. The Gryffindor versus Slytherin match was quite fun to watch, but I had to admit it was a chilly day. The wind violently howled around the stands, but I had been cautious enough to bring several layers to stay warm. In any case, I wasn’t cold any longer after spending a bit excitedly jumping in place and loudly cheering Gryffindor on. 

My eyes followed Harry’s broom as he looked for the golden snitch, but I was distracted when Hermione next to me bumped her shoulder against mine.

“Sorry...” She muttered, looking down and separating herself a little from me.

It seemed like she was trying to stay close to me, perhaps to stay warm. Her arms were tightly wrapped around herself and her nose was slightly red. I knew she had been late, hurrying to make it to the start of the match. Knowing her, she was too focused on a book to realize the time. That explained why she only had the time to put on a thin jacket that clearly wasn’t warm enough in this cold day outdoors.

“Are you cold?” I asked her, causing her to look up to me in surprise.

“A bit...” Hermione shrugged, absently watching the flying players. “I didn’t realize how cold it was, but it’s alright”

“You can wear my jacket” I quickly took it off and handed it to her. Noticing her hesitance, however, I added: “I’m not cold, I promise, and I wouldn’t want the brightest student in Hogwarts to turn into a popsicle”

Hermione chuckled and finally nodded her head. She timidly placed her hair behind her ear as I put my jacket over her shoulders.

“Thank you, Y/N” She smiled at me as she huddled under the garment.

“You’re blushing” I teased her, although I wasn’t lying. There was a faint rose tone appearing on her cheeks.

She laughed a little at my comment and shook her head. Making a pause and clearly flustered under my playful stare, she then changed the subject.

“Let’s watch the game” She tilted her head towards the field. “I bet Harry will catch the snitch soon”

-

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn /  @dancewaterdance02 /  @raararasputin / @thisismysecrethappyplace / @bitchingpretty / @lookinsidemyhead / @c-taylor-wanna-be-a-glader / @welcome-here-in-my-world / @x-joie-x / @under-the-clouds / @legallyblindgamer727 / @lotsoffandomimagines / @suenami3 / @fortheloveofbenyandtom // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, let me know!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

I LOVE YOUR professor lupin x student reader. DO MORE!! can you please do one with the reader on 3rd year and he’s the new professor and likes you and calls you cute pet names. but one day when the reader realizes he likes her, she’s teasing him in class making him jealous with one of her friends and he gives her detention and then either they do the ✨nasty✨ or he kisses her. I hope this isn’t too complicated🥺

hello! thank you so much for the compliment! in regards to this request, i can certainly do it but i’m going to age up the reader as third years are about 13-14 years of age and that would be considered pedophilia and within my masterlist/rules, i don’t write that. you probably didn’t mean it but i just wanted to clarify the ages! thank you :)

[fierte-verte]

Howdy can you ship me with a hp character? I am a gryffindor, I am 4’11 and I have short curly brown hair and brown eyes and oLiVe skin. I love quidditch and I’d be a chaser. I am very very determined and have the stupid bravery, am also kind, caring and selfless and love to prove people wrong( 🤷🏽‍♀️)I love to paint, listen to music and read(sometimes) idk what else to put I hope it’s enough. BYEBYE HAVE A GREAT DAY!!

Hello! Thank you for your request❤️Hope you’ll like this precious!

So I ship with you with...Oliver Wood!

* can i just say there’s no one who loves quidditch more than oliver 

* but then you show up to auditions (along with the twins) in your third year 

* and oliver feels like he’s looking at a mirror

* your hair catches the breeze when you soar around the field 

* your eyes look ablaze and there’s not one trace of hesitance on your face

* so he just stares, mouth agape in surprise 

* “we’ve found ourselves a chaser”

* as expected, oliver’s a tough cookie on the pitch

* “fifty laps? but it’s six am!”

* you hold your ground though, practice is practice

* you’ll spend hours discussing tactics in the common room

* while sneaking casual glances at his face

* and when he notices your eyelids drooping he’d shake his head fondly and smile

* sometimes you two argue over the smallest things in a game 

* and would just stare each other down in the middle of the pitch

* “c’mon lads, this is no time for a lovers’ spat”

* but in the end he’d always find a way to compromise 

* because you’re just as crazed about the sport as oliver is, if not more

* the team starts organizing hogsmeade trips to celebrate their wins

* oliver sees you out of quidditch gear and robes for the first time

* “captain, you’re going to burn a hole in her head!”

* poor guy starts stuttering like there’s no tomorrow

* of course good old fred and george resort to playing cupid

* and tips oliver off about a little set of paintbrushes you’ve been dying to get

* you two start hanging out in the common room on weekends

* he’ll be reading a book on quidditch and you’ll be painting him

* you also bond over a mutual hatred for marcus flint

* and whenever he bothers oliver you’d just appeared by his side, protective and fierce

* “merlin you can be quite scary sometimes”

* harry basically becomes your adopted kid 

* and joins in on fred and george’s matchmaking plans

* you’re the only person allowed to call him ollie

* and he’ll turn scarlet at the sound of it

* when a bludger knocks him out cold your heart just drops

* so you visit him at the hospital wing every day

* and read him quidditch magazines

* all while ignoring madame pomfrey’s smirks

* he wakes up and gives you the cutest grin that just melts you

* “i feel better already”

* you two finally kiss during his seventh year, after the gryffindor slytherin game

* he just drops the house cup, strides over and smooch!

* the team erupts into embarassingly loud cheers

* he leaves you the captain position 

* you start wearing a lot of blue and gold to support him and puddlemere

* and he comes back to coach the team whenever he’s free

* “no mushy coupley stuff on the field, wood!”

[fandom-writing-promptorrequest]

Request

Au where the once great Headmaster Albus Dumbledore went crazy with power and started a civil war because the Ministry refused to bow down to him, only afraid of a former student of his, Tom Riddle-Slytherin, the new Headmaster of Hogwarts.

And between all that there is the Black Family, who is traditionalist family turning more into the Light side than staying Neutral and trying to find the heir, who ran away after an argument with his parents shortly after graduating, about the early years when he was at Hogwarts during the Dumbledore rule (which they found very worrisome because Dumbledore seemed to have an eye out for Sirius and his friends + Lily).

And now they found him (thanks to the fact that he went for help to his old best mate with Dumbledore horcrux), in return they call Headmaster Riddle-Slytherin, who says the safest place for him to hide is at his old home, the Grimmauld Place, as it had wards strong enough to hide his presence.

With time, they slowly discover that Sirius had been blackmailed with the fact that he was illegal animagus at first, and slowly being threatened with his friends and family's lives.

[cherrie511]

Jealous

yay! so i had an idea for draco x reader where the reader is in gryffindor and friends with the trio, and while she always stands up for herself and her friends, she's really kind to draco. so they become more friendly but still with teasing over time, but one day in 5th year he gets jealous because she's talking to another guy and they have a fight and then he blurts out the he loves her and they kiss? sorry if this is way too specific lol, i love you're writing and had this thought <3 thx! - @redfiregreenwaves

Hi! Sorry I took so long, my exams finished a few days ago. Hope you like it! Gif belongs to artist, not me btw :)

I edited and made the ask into an actual post with proper hashtags because I realized that I actually really liked it. Thanks for requesting! <3 @redfiregreenwaves

Draco Malfoy leaned on a pillar in the Hogwarts courtyard, glowering at the witch and wizard chatting amiably on the other side. His storm filled eyes followed your finger twisting a strand of hair around and around it as you giggled at something that idiot Dean Thomas said. A soft growl involuntarily fought its way out of his throat as the coffee skinned wizard’s hand brushed your waist as he bid you goodbye and walked away.

Slytherin colors are green, and Draco was engulfed in it.

He was conscious of himself being temperamental, but his favorite Gryffindor (the only Gryffindor he tolerated, really) often had his emotions out of wack, especially this year.

You and Draco had first encountered each other at the beginning of your first year at Hogwarts, minutes before getting sorted into your houses. Draco had been tormenting Ron Weasley about his family’s financial status when you butted in with some choice words to shut the blond wizard up.

Draco involuntarily cracked a tiny smile at the memory of first-year you stomping up to him, brand new robes swishing. He still hadn’t forgotten the words you’d bit out, noses inches apart before growth spurts and puberty happened.

“Blond hair, fancy robes, and an inability to mind your own business? You must be a Malfoy. Why can’t you leave him alone?” Suddenly, her fierce expression softened a bit. ”C’mon, we’re finally at Hogwarts! This is exciting! Trust me, you’re not going to make any friends by being a twat.”

She gave him a mischievous but not at all unfriendly look and flounced away before he could reply, Weasley and Potter at her heels, following her like lost puppies.

Though Draco had been fuming then, he’s started falling for the vivacious Gryffindor that very day.

Somehow, over the next few years, an odd sort of friendship had blossomed between the young witch and wizard. Draco would taunt Harry, Ron, or Hermione, and your quick tongue would fire a clever comeback to keep him on his toes. When you were alone, though, the two of you got along like a house fire. As time passed, Draco’s feelings for you had grown more and more pronounced until he was hiding a full blown crush right under your nose. He wasn’t sure what to do about it… he’d never like-liked a girl like you before.

Jealousy was like an icy bucket of water being poured over his fond trip down memory lane as he caught sight of the large, Dean Thomas-induced smile taking over your face as you practically skipped over to where he was standing. An irate expression carved itself back onto his features.

Your smile faded as you took in his less-than-pleased look and you sighed.

“Is there a problem, Malfoy?”

“Care to explain why you were talking to… that?” he spat, jerking his chin in the general direction of Dean’s retreating form.

“Dean and I are working on a project together in Transfiguration. We were brainstorming ideas. Not that it’s any of your business either way- since when are there restrictions on who I talk to? What’s been the matter with you recently?”

“You know exactly what the matter is,” He murmured after a moment’s hesitation, pale pink suddenly saturating his cheeks

“I honestly don’t, Draco. Please educate me.” You said irritably, good mood ruined. “You’ve been acting like more of a prat than usual since the start of this year, what-“

“I like you, okay,” he blurted, porcelain skin now flushed closer to scarlet than pink. “I like you as more than a friend. To be honest…” he floundered for a moment, but somehow found the courage to plough on. “I think I love you. No,” he murmured, laughing quietly at his own nonsensical rambling. ”I do love you. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my whole life.”

The defensive expression dropped off your face and was replaced by total shock as his confession hit you.

“I… I know I’m being a prat about Dean and you’re right, you can talk to whoever you want, but I’ve just never felt like this before. This is new to me and I just don’t know how to tell you that I think your smile could light up galaxies and your laugh is like music and that face you make when you’re concentrating is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and-“

Draco broke off with a short inhale as he caught his breath and looked up, vulnerability written all over his aristocratic features.

It was your turn to blush furiously. You’d always squashed your feelings for the Slytherin Prince down because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had, but his sudden proclamation of love made all the bottled up feelings surge through you at once.

You stared at the face you’d come to love so much over the last few years with affection and decided that it was far past the time to play it safe. You stepped closer so that the faint scent of his expensive cologne tickled your nose.

Draco’s grey eyes widened at the sudden proximity for and bit his lip, unconsciously making you feel a warm tug in the bottom of your stomach.

You rose to the tips of your toes to combat the height difference and gingerly pressed your lips to his, putting your arms around his neck. His movements were cautious at first too, but soon you both relaxed and his arms were wrapped around your waist, lips were dancing against your own. The feeling of your bodies pressed flush against each other was absolute bliss, like his was made to hold yours.

You could feel the rapid beating of his heart right besides your own and you knew down to the deepest crevice of your soul that every inch of you belonged to him.

The spell was broken by a cry of surprise from a familiar voice.

“What the hell, (Y/N)?” Harry exclaimed, making you and Draco break apart slightly. You looked over with a guilty smile, but Malfoy only had eyes for you, completely captivated.

“Oh relax, Harry, stop pretending you don’t owe Ron and I five galleons each. We’re happy for you!” Hermione chirped across the courtyard, ushering the protesting boys back into the castle to allow the new couple some time alone.

Gray irises met (Y/E/C) ones and you both burst into peals of disbelieving laughter.

“You make me so happy.” 

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could think about them and you realized that they were true. You intertwined your fingers in his and tucked your head into the crook of his neck, watching first years run after each other on the banks of the Black Lake in the distance.

Draco’s heart had never felt lighter. From this point on, you were to be the one thing that kept him sane, the one person in his life to live for. He promised himself that he would spend the rest of his life making you happy.

“Hey, when can we kiss again?”

You laughed.

“How ‘bout in the amount of time it takes us to get back to the closest

common room?”

“You’re on.”

And so, fingers still intertwined, the teenagers raced back into the castle.

[owlswithfins]

hi i am so happy u accepting prompts, i would love to have Drarry my OTP with nr.37 because thats my age, could u do something with Harry stealing Draco s clothes but there not together, but Harry has the hots for Draco. promt 37.“Oh sorry, is my gay showing?” THANK YOU

Here ya go! Thanks for the request :)

Prompt #37: “Oh sorry, is my gay showing?” (Read it on AO3)

It started out innocently enough. Harry was laboring away at his Defense Against the Dark Arts work in the library when he spotted it. More accurately, he was ignoring his apprenticeship work when he discovered the perfect distraction: a grey sweater, neatly draped over the back of an unoccupied chair. It seemed its owner had left it behind in their haste to get to class. Harry knew, of course, that the right thing to do would be to find out who it belonged to and return it. And if the mission meant taking a break from his assignments, he was beyond okay with that. After keeping a careful lookout for several minutes to see if anyone came to retrieve it, Harry walked over and picked it up.

It seemed familiar, though he couldn’t think why. Generally he didn’t notice clothing since, as Hermione was wont to point out, he was more oblivious than a piece of plywood. But he knew he’d seen this particular sweater before. It was thin–too large for any of the first through third years–and if Harry had seen it, it was likely from someone in seventh or eighth. After checking inside the collar and seeing no name written on the tag, he pulled it close to inhale the scent. Green apples, broom polish, and an expensive cologne Harry could recognize anywhere. The realization hit him instantly.

Without thinking, he shoved the sweater in his bag, packed up his books, and made a hasty exit. Harry’s heart was beating loudly in his ears all the way to the eighth year dorms. He felt conspicuous, like there was a dancing arrow over his head spelling, “thief, thief, thief” in neon.

“Hiya, Harry,” Seamus greeted as he made his way through the common room. Harry nodded briskly and kept walking. He couldn’t risk accidentally meeting Malfoy’s eyes because he was sure one look would give him away. The moment his door shut behind him, he exhaled and took a moment to collect himself.

The dorm was empty since he only shared it with Ron, who was on a date with Hermione at the Three Broomsticks. As eighth year returnees, they were granted more privileges than other students. They could go to Hogsmeade whenever they chose, and they weren’t restricted to the Hogwarts dress code which meant Harry practically lived in Muggle jeans and band T-shirts he found in Sirius’ room at Grimmauld Place. They also had the opportunity to work as apprentices with certain professors. Malfoy worked with Slughorn, Hermione worked with McGonagall, and Neville worked with Professor Sprout. Harry quite enjoyed his work with the new Defense teacher, but he still found himself wishing Remus was the one teaching him instead. He did a lot of wishing for lost faces these days.

Pulling the sweater out of his bag, Harry drew it close and breathed in that intoxicating scent. His eyes fell shut, and his thoughts visited cool grey eyes, soft blonde hair, and the sharp angles of Malfoy’s Quidditch-toned limbs. Harry had seen a lot of him since returning to Hogwarts, as the eighth years were in most of the same classes. They’d even come to a sort of truce, though Harry wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends. During that time, Harry had come to terms with the fact that he was very very gay and hopelessly crushing on said Slytherin. He let his head fall back against the door. As Harry considered his options, a sly smile slid across his face.

It was a moment of weakness that led to the theft of the sweater instead of its return, but it was Slytherin cunning that led to what happened next.

The next morning, Harry strutted into Potions with an easy smirk on his face. He wordlessly took a seat next to Malfoy, and leaned back, resting his hands on the back of his neck. Malfoy was carefully copying notes from the board and didn’t seem to notice Harry’s arrival, so the Gryffindor took a moment to study the blond. He was wearing a deep green sweater today, and he sat as posh as ever in his chair. He’d taken to wearing his hair loose lately rather than slicking it back, and the white tufts looked deliciously soft.

When Malfoy continued to copy his notes, Harry got impatient. “Ahem.”

“What is it, Potter?”

He didn’t look up, so Harry cleared his throat once more.

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter, spit it out. Can’t you see I’m trying to do the assignment?”

Harry rolled his eyes. As if Malfoy even needed to copy these notes down. He could do this potion with his hands tied behind his back. “Notice anything?” Harry asked.

Malfoy finally looked at him. The coldness in his eyes could have turned a Muggle to stone. “You’re taking up an ungodly amount of space given the size of this table?”

Harry snorted. “Try again.”

Malfoy gave a self-pitying sigh but looked again. “You’re wearing a woman’s sweater.”

Harry cracked up then, which only made Malfoy scowl more. “I suppose you’d know.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean, Potter?”

Harry wiggled his brows and gestured at himself again.

Malfoy scoffed. “I don’t have time for this. Go bother the Weasel.”

Harry grinned but dutifully began copying his notes without another word. Malfoy was on edge for the first few minutes as if he expected another comment or strange game, but soon, he too fell into his work. When it was time to start the potion, Malfoy removed his sweater and set it on the back of his chair.

“Would you mind grabbing the ingredients?” Harry asked pleasantly.

Malfoy stood and walked into the supply closet. Harry, meanwhile, looked around to make sure no one was watching before slipping the green sweater into his bag. He then prepared the cauldron as if nothing had happened and waited to see if Malfoy noticed.

When Malfoy returned, his arms were full and his mind seemed to be five steps ahead–and definitely not on the missing sweater. Harry grinned wider.

“What’s so amusing, Potter?” Malfoy asked when Harry didn’t stop.

Harry only shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s get this potion done, yeah?”

Malfoy studied him in suspicion. “You’d better not try anything. I’m up to my ears in apprenticeship work, and I can’t handle getting on Slughorn’s bad side.”

Harry’s eyes widened innocently. “Try something? Me?”

Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lord help me. Just–whatever it is, don’t fuck up the potion.”

Harry smirked. “I assure you, messing with the potion isn’t part of the plan.”

Malfoy looked relieved. “Thank Merlin. If you could start cutting up the–wait, what plan?”

Harry only shook his head and got to work. He could see Malfoy opening and closing his mouth in his periphery, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Eventually, Malfoy got to work as well, but his jaw was clenched and his fingers stiff as if he was ready for whatever Harry threw at him. Little did he know, Harry wasn’t interested in throwing things as much as he was in stealing them. And step two of the plan was already complete.

x*x*X*x*x

Draco’s nerves were in tatters by the time he left Potions. He kept waiting for Potter to do…whatever it was he was planning to do, but he never did. Pansy and Blaise were giggling about something or other, but Draco couldn’t get that infernal grin out of his mind. Potter hated Potions, and he was bollocks at it besides. There was no reason for him to be that bloody happy unless he was plotting something. But if he was plotting something, why didn’t anything go wrong?

Draco was still wondering what the answer was during Ancient Runes, and then Transfiguration, and then Charms. He felt like he was losing his mind. As he washed his hands in the bathroom before dinner, he noticed he wasn’t wearing his sweater. Merlin, I really am losing my mind. Where did I leave it last?

He decided to retrace his steps, which meant the first possibility was the Great Hall. Arriving at the Slytherin table, he realized he would look like a barbarian or an idiot if he started crawling under the tables or checking all the benches while people were sitting on them, so instead he announced, “My sweater is missing. Has anyone seen it?”

The first years nervously shook their heads, too intimidated to be of any help. Some of the older students looked around briefly before shrugging and muttering their no’s.

“I’d be happy to help. What’s it look like?” Astoria asked. She was always kissing up to him because her parents thought they’d make a good match. Draco could see through it like glass, but it generally served him to have an eager helper, so he hadn’t told her to piss off yet.

“It’s a green turtleneck. I’m off to check the Potions room. Let me know if you find it.”

She nodded enthusiastically, and Pansy and Blaise rolled their eyes. Draco shrugged in reply before taking off for his next stop.

When he stepped into the Potions room, he racked his brain to remember if he’d been wearing it during class. Yes, he was quite sure he’d had it in the beginning. But then–he’d taken it off before getting the supplies. It must be in his chair then. There wasn’t a class there, so he didn’t have to make a scene, and he whistled a soft tune, pleased to have solved the puzzle.

His hopes fell, however, when he reached his seat. The sweater wasn’t there. Did someone pick it up and give it to Slughorn perhaps? Did Draco take it with him and leave it somewhere else? Upon careful review of his memories, he realized the sweater wasn’t there when he came back with the supplies. Which meant–

Potter must have taken it. Which was why he looked so darn pleased with himself. Draco hissed and stormed off into the castle. Of course it was Potter. Why hadn’t he thought of it earlier? Draco thought Potter must have gone a bit loony if he thought this was a prank, but maybe there was more to it Draco hadn’t discovered yet. Either way, Draco was sure the Weasley twins would be disappointed in the Golden Boy if they witnessed this particular tomfoolery.

As Draco made his way to the Great Hall, he remembered another part of Potions class.

“Notice anything?” Harry asked.

“You’re wearing a woman’s sweater.”

“I suppose you’d know.”

Fuuuuuuck. He’d taken Draco’s other sweater as well. He was wearing it. And he’d gotten Draco to accidentally insult his own fashion sense. Salazar, Draco was going to kill him. He stormed into the Great Hall and made his way toward Potter. Distantly, he heard people snickering, but the sound didn’t quite register. When he finally reached the thief, he crossed his arms.

“Potter. Outside. Now.”

Potter grinned, eyes matching the new sweater, which he was wearing now instead of the grey. “Sure, Malfoy.”

Draco walked out, and Potter followed. People whispered as they made their exit, but there was something odd about the tone. Usually when he and Potter fought, people placed bets and said their prayers, but today, it was the sound of rumors and suppressed giggles. Draco didn’t have time to figure out what that meant.

Once outside, he whirled on Potter. “You stole my sweater.”

Potter held up two fingers.

Draco exhaled as evenly as possible. “You stole two of my sweaters.”

Potter was grinning again. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to tear it off you, you stupid prat.”

Potter raised his brows. “How forward of you, Malfoy. Most blokes would ask a guy on a date first.” The Gryffindor’s lips twisted into another one of those smiles, and Draco thought he might throttle him. Instead, he pinned him against the wall.

“I’m not asking you on a goddamn date, Potter, I’m asking for my fucking sweater back!”

Potter winced at the volume. “Have fun telling that to the rest of the students.”

Draco stared blankly. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you hear them whispering?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “They weren’t quiet about it at all. They were making bets on whether or not we’re shagging and gossiping about us being in a secret relationship.”

“What? What did you tell them, Potter? Did you tell them we’re…we’re…boyfriends or something?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Did you do something then?”

Potter looked nervously at the ground. “Um, no, er, you said something.”

Draco looked even more flabbergasted. “What are you talking about?”

Potter shuffled his feet. “You told everyone this is your sweater, and I’m wearing it, so they just, um, connected the dots.”

Draco released him like he’d been burned. “What the fuck, Potter? Why didn’t you tell them off? How the fuck are you planning to convince them we’re actually enemies? You know how these people are.” When there was no response, Draco started pulling the sweater off of Potter–

…only to realize once it was off that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Draco’s face went pink. “Um.”

Potter awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. “Funny enough, I don’t think this is going to convince them we’re not fucking.”

Draco blushed even harder at his choice of language. “Sorry, Potter, but I didn’t expect you to be defiling my sweater my wearing it against your bare chest!”

“And I didn’t expect you to disrobe me in the middle of the corridor, but look where we are.”

“Why are you not more upset by this?” Draco hissed. Potter seemed insistent on being unhelpful, so Draco knew it was up to him to make things right. He started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Malfoy, what are you doing?”

“Giving you my shirt, so you don’t walk in there half naked.”

Harry nodded dazedly. “Right. Good thinking.” His eyes followed Draco’s fingers as they undid each button one by one. “Except the reason they think we’re together in the first place is because I was wearing your clothes. So us switching clothes isn’t going to help our case.”

“Do you have a better idea, Potter?”

Breathlessly, he managed, “No, sorry. Keep going.”

Draco looked up at the tone of his voice. “Salazar, Potter. You’re flushed. Are you trying to make it look like we just shagged?”

Potter threw his hands in the air. “Oh, sorry. Is my gay showing?”

Draco froze on the last button. Fuck, did he just imply that he was flushing because of me? Potter bit his lip, realizing what he’d just said. Draco met his eyes. There was a moment of tension so heavy it squeezed at Draco’s lungs.

“I’ll try harder,” Potter said quietly. “I don’t want to ruin your reputation or whatever over a stupid prank.”

Draco nervously broke eye contact and pulled his shirt off. Without a word, he handed it to Potter, who took it and began to put it on. When he got to the buttons, Draco brushed those tan hands aside and did them up himself. He heard Potter’s breath catch. His own breath was shaky as he reached the last button, and his hands weren’t much better. He straightened the collar and met Potter’s gaze once more.

Potter was a little shorter than him, but not by much, so he could feel his breath on his neck. Electricity sparked between them, threatening to close the gap and press them together. Draco hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted just that until the electricity won over and he found himself kissing the Gryffindor. Potter’s lips were chapped, and when Draco didn’t pull away, they began to move with a hot, insistent pressure against Draco’s. Draco let his hands slip down from Potter’s collar and onto his torso. He regretted doing up the buttons already, but he’d needed that time to convince himself to kiss Potter at all, and the white button down was thin enough. Potter looped his fingers through Draco’s belt loops and pulled him up against him before wrapping his hands around to Draco’s back. Draco felt each touch like fire on his skin, and he knew there was no chance of looking innocent now. His pale skin would be flushed to match Potters, and his lips would likely be bruised too. He must have been somewhat lightheaded because that thought didn’t even bother him.

He finally broke away for air. Potter’s eyes were bright and his lips were parted in a way that made Draco want to kiss him again.

“Was that part of the plan?” Potter asked. “Because you look thoroughly snogged, and I highly doubt you’re going to convince anyone of anything.”

Draco raised his brows. “Oh sorry. Is my gay showing?” Potter shoved him with a smile, handing Draco his sweater. “You know,” Draco said as he pulled it over his head. “We could always just…not go back. Then we don’t have to prove anything.”

Potter narrowed his eyes. “You know they’ll assume anyway, right?”

Draco smirked. “Let them. It’s not like they’re that far off track.” Then he glared. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” When Potter didn’t respond, Draco continued, “If it hadn’t been absolutely bonkers I would have seen it from the start.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Potter looked hopefully at him from beneath his fringe. Draco considered objecting to that, but he figured maybe it was alright for Potter to best him sometimes if it led to snogging. “Since we’re not going back to the Great Hall,” Potter continued, “what are we doing?”

Draco pretended to be in deep thought. “Well, I’ve recently made a new discovery, but before I’m convinced, I have a few more trials to do.”

“And what might that discovery be?”

“That you look devastatingly handsome in my clothes. Care to come to my dormitory and see if the results are consistent?”

Potter hid a smile, tapping his chin. “Hmm…I could be convinced to try on your clothes. But only if you’re willing to take them off of me.”

Draco smirked. “I think I could be persuaded.”

Harry did smile now, gesturing down the hall. “Lead the way.”

x*x*X*x*x

Hope ya liked it! Read it on AO3 here or request a fic :)