#hp writing

[redheadspark]

Can I have Oliver Wood with #7 and/or #1, please?

A/N - This is great for Oliver! Thanks for the request, anon!

Hold

Summary - Who know a simple hold would bring Oliver out of his funk

Warnings - Fluff

You could tell instantly that Oliver was a bit stressed just by the way he was standing over the table with his shoulders hunched.

It was a dead giveaway, but you were quiet as you were watching from the bottom of the stairs that led to the Dorms in the Gryffindor Common Room.  The light was hitting the stained glass windows, the fire was still cracking with life but was slowly dying down.  The rest of Gryffindor House was fast asleep, but you has an inkling that your boyfriend was not going to go to bed anytime soon. Not with the semi finals for quidditch coming around the corner and Gryffindor was a favorite to win.  

So you stood at the bottom of the stairs, semi-hidden, clad in your pajamas and a robe over your pjs as you were watching Oliver mumble to himself as he was shuffling a few papers from his playbook.  After watching him for a moment or two, you finally tiptoed over to Oliver, staying behind him and not making a sound as he was still too occupied with his plays.  Finally, you wrapped your arms around him from behind as you rested your chin on his shoulder and leaned your head against his own.  Oliver paused instantly, but he then melted and snuggled against you with one hand on your arm and the other still on the table.

“How’s it going?” You asked, looking over his shoulder at his scribbled writing and the animated doodles that were enchanted to reenact the plays Oliver drew. He sighed, though it didn’t sound frustrated but more tiresome.  

“I’m nearly done,” he answered as he stacked the papers nicely and with precision, “I just wanted to make sure it was perfect and we are ahead of Slytherin—“

“Since when are you ever behind with Slytherin?” You gently interrupted him, seeing him go quiet for a moment as you giggled and pecked him on the cheek, “Oli, and I mean this with the upmost respect, I think you are a bit paranoid at this time.  The twins are strong as our Beaters, harry has been practicing with his speed, and as one of your Chasers, I think my throws are a pinch better thanks to you,”

Oliver finally laugh as he turned on your arms, his arms around your lower waist as his head was pressed against yours.  You loved this side of the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, who was always cool and calm when he wore the colors and had his a-game constantly.  When quidditch was the subject, Oliver knew the sport so well.  He grew up flying and playing, it was second nature to him.  You loved the game, but not as much as he did.

But when Quidditch was not the main subject for Oliver, he was calmer and more relaxed.  You two have been an item since your 4th year, you were trying out for the team when they were in need of a new Chaser with Oliver was conducting the tryouts. You could feel his eyes on you constantly as he watched you score goal after goal against one of his reserved Keepers.  But it was when you were up against him, seeing him hover in front of the three goal posts, you could see he was intrigued with you when you scored against you.

It was safe to say you stole his heart then and there.  

Dating him was not a huge challenge since you knew going into it that you were going to be sharing him with his love for Quidditch.  Yet he was considerate and tried to leave the sport behind when it was just the pair of you.  As much as you two loved talking about the sport and how you were going to play in an upcoming game, it was a good boundary for the pair of you to table Quidditch when you were on a date or simply sending time with one another or with friends.

Yet you could tell he had time when he needs someone to bring him back from spiraling out or forgetting himself. As much as Oliver loved being the Captain, he needed to take a break from time to time. You made sure of that, taking long walks with him when he was stressing out, even a small getaway to Hogsmeade to get a Butterbeer or something from Honeydukes.  Those would usually do the trick for him.

“Close the book and sit with me on the couch?” You suggested with him, feeling him tap his fingers along your lower back as you cocked your head at him, “We’re gonna be fine with our match this weekend, I know it.  Plus, Marcus Flint has far too thick of a skull to try and outsmart you anyhow.”

Oliver finally laughed as he then pointed at you, “That mouth got you trouble that one time in the Great Hall last spring, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, though you were still smiling as Oliver laughed, “I didn’t meant to say it so loud for him to hear me,”

“Aye you did!  Fred heard you and he cackled,” He reminded in a chuckle.  You remembered that morning, Marcus looking red in the face as you said it to Fred while the pair of you were passing by the Slytherin table.  You were smiling from the inside from the sight of Marcus, though you knew there would be repracautions later on at the match.   

“It was honestly a backhanded comment and he should learn to handle his emotions,” You explained, though now Oliver was the one who placed a finger to your lips to silence you. You loved this playful side of Oliver that would branch out from time to time when the pair of you were together.  He loved to make you crack up and smile out of the blue, take your hand in his own if you two were close enough.  But the one thing that made it memorable, was when you two would hold one another.

Simply hold one another.  

He held you in joy when Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup last year, you held him when you two danced together in the Common Room on your 1 year Anniversary, he held you when you told him your mother was severely sick.  Holding one another was therapeutic, almost like you two were saving each other from going under.  It felt that way to you, and without you knowing it, it was the same for Oliver.

In Oliver’s eyes, you saved him from getting listen himself when it came to being too serious as a captain.  You were a light that he would find when it was dark, the warmth when it got cold, joy when he was sad.  He had plans for the pair of you when you two would leave Hogwarts, knowing that you would want to play professional just as much as him.  

He had plans to marry you, to build a family with you, to make you happy.  He would do anything to make you happy, and he vowed to do just that.

“Come on, let’s watch the fire,” you sighed, taking him by the hand and lead him to the couch.  He followed willingly, leaving his playbook behind on the desk while he held you in his arms.  You both chitchatted for the next hour, about everything and anything that on your mind.  It ended up being one of the best nights you two would share together, and you ended up dominating the game that Oliver was fussing over.

All from a simple hold.

The End

[imkylotrash]

I used to get lost in your eyes

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader (first person).

My hands are shaking. Any minute now, he'll come walking through that door and I'll have to break both of our hearts. Any minute now, I will have my last moment with him, and my bones are threatening to break under the weight of that knowledge. Keys rattle on the other side of the door, and I take a deep breath to stabilize my thundering heart. It does not do the trick.

"Hey, how was..." His voice trails off when he sees my packed bags by the door. There's no reason to try and hide the tears making their way down my cheeks. He'll know soon enough what will happen tonight.

"We need to talk." The four worst words in a relationship. My voice remains steady despite the cold making a home in my veins.

"What's going on?" He still has one foot out in the hallway as if not fully entering the room will change the outcome of tonight. It won't.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't keep waiting for you to let me in, because I don't think you'll ever be ready. And I definitely can't continue to be shut out when you're struggling. It hurts too much." I feel my bottom lip quiver as I try to reel back some of the feelings threatening to rip their way out of my heart. For so long, I've managed to keep them contained, but I can't do it anymore. I am tired.

"Please, don't. You know I've been working on this. You know I'm trying to-to-I don't want to lose you." Finally, he enters the room to walk over to me and get on his knees in front of me. For once, I can read him as an open book. The fear of losing me, the broken heart already demanding to be felt even though I'm still here. I see it all, but it's too late.

"I can't keep clawing at your walls, darling. My nails haven't even managed to make a single scratch." Nothing on this earth could prepare me for the feeling in my chest as I watch all hope evaporate from his face. I have to consciously remind myself why this is necessary. How many evenings I've sat waiting for him to come home, to tell me what troubles him. How many times I've gone to bed alone because he'd rather stay in his study and ignore the world. Once, I was naive enough to think that I might one day become his world. That he'd trust me enough to let me see the sides of him that were less than perfect. I did not harbor such sentiments now.

"There must be something I can do," he argues but I've made my decision. It will do none of us any good to dwell on what might have been.

"I'll stay with Lily and James for a few days until I find somewhere to go." It's selfish to bring his best friend into this, but I have nowhere to go and Lily is my best friend. It's only natural to seek her comfort right now. I tell myself it's only for a few days. And it's not as if James won't be able to come over and see Remus. I'd never get in the way of that.

"Please stay." With unsteady legs, I stand up and step to the side to pass Remus still on his knees.

"Please," he whispers so quietly, I almost miss it. If there is something smaller than a quark, I believe that would be equivalent to the size of the broken pieces of my heart lying shattered on the floor. He grips my wrist to keep me from taking another step, but I cannot stay. I cannot destroy myself to make him whole.

"Let go of me, Remus." It comes out as a plea rather than an order, but I cannot bring myself to cause him any more pain than necessary. Fire spreads where his skin touches mine and I curse how weak my body becomes by his touch.

"Don't make me do it myself. Please just let me go." I don't want to have to pry his hand off of me. I can't have that be my last memory with him. After a full minute, he finally lets go of my wrist.

"You are worthy of love, my darling. I'm just not the right person to give it to you." I lean down to press a kiss to his forehead as a final goodbye. The sight of his tear-streaked face will haunt me from this day forward, but I still walk out the door. And he doesn't stop me this time.

[yanxidarlings]

WELCOME: BLOG RULES AND IMPORTANT LINKS

◯ REQUESTS: OPEN

◯ YANDERE HARRY POTTER & HETALIA

◯ honestly i have no boundaries aside from keeping requests gender neutral (no fem reader) i'll still accept the request if it says fem reader but i'll keep the darlings gender neutral.

◯ harry potter: only writing for the golden era, if the character was alive during then you can request.

◯ hetalia: no 2P or nyo, and i strongly prefer country darlings.

◯ no explicit nsfw, i only do headcanons, so no one-shots, unless it's a situation where the yandere has to be platonic, i don't specify if it's a platonic or romantic yandere.

◯ bombard me with requests, but keep the number of characters on each request reasonable: if it's a harem, 6 characters are okay, separate, 3 is the most I'll do, but requests will get answered much quicker if there's only 1 character so do what you will with that information.

◯ tagging system: #my headcanons (hetalia works), #hp writings (harry potter works), #yandere hetalia (reblogs), #yandere harry potter (reblogs)

——————————————————————————————

HETALIA MASTERLIST • HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

requests in the inbox • character list (tba) • old masterpost

[k2padfoot]

Blurry Minds

Draco x Y/n

summary: Draco is spiraling. He can’t find you, he doesn’t know where you are, or is his mind playing tricks on him again?

warnings: *TW* References to PTSD, panic attacks & disassociating. Little angst, hella fluff.

A/N: kinda shorter than I usually write but I think I like it. enjoy babes<3

He’s strong most of the time. Still his past can slowly break him, sometimes sending him in a downward spiral.

He stepped through the doors to the house, his mind scattered into a million pieces. It all looks relatively normal, except where are you? Have you been here lately?

It’s quiet. What time is it? He looks down at his watch, 6:45 p.m. You would be here by now if he’s thinking right but he’s not.

It’s too quiet. He goes up the stairs to the bedroom rushing in but again it all looks normal. Why aren’t you here though?

His head starts to buzz, an unsettling feeling welling in him. He starts to rummage around the room. Looking through odds and ends, pulling out drawers, rustling through papers, it’s all the same. But why can’t he think clearly?

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the dresser, for a moment he didn’t recognize who was staring back. He looked like him but tired, too tired.

He moves to the bed and sits down, this doesn’t feel like his side. Is it yours? He doesn’t know why he can’t remember. He opens the drawer to the nightstand but the things inside aren’t his. A pair of emerald green earrings catch his eye and he knows these, he’s seen these. They’re yours, right? All of this stuff is yours, right?

He closes his eyes, a familiar electric pain behind them. Why won’t it stop hurting?

He felt the blood start to pound in his ears, the breaths catching in his throat.

The fear slowly creeping up his bones, on to his skin, into his chest.

With his heart thumping hard, he felt his chest might burst any minute.

But the only thing he could think about was where were you?

He stormed into the bathroom, hurrying to rip the buttons from his shirt and discard of it. He felt like he was burning from the inside out, he needed air but he couldn’t get it.

His hearing was muffled but he could faintly hear a voice calling for him, a soft familiar voice. “Darling!! Draco I’m home!” you kept shouting to him, unaware Draco wasn’t able to respond.

He thought he heard you calling from down the stairs, but is it you or just his mind playing tricks on him again?

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open startled him. Reacting fast he slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it. He turned out the lights and backed into the corner, his wand now drawn.

You sat down in front of the bathroom door, your head resting against it. “Draco.. Baby unlock the door.” you pleaded with him from the other side. You could tell now what you had just walked into. Another one of his bad episodes, the ones that come from the war. “Dray it’s me Y/n, I promise.” but all you got was radio silence. “Draco please listen to me, just listen carefully ok?” You knew there was one thing that could break him free of his panic. “Look down at your hand baby. Your ring finger, you see that? That’s our wedding band. Now look at your wrist, you see the little stars and the moon? That’s the tattoo we got, you know to remember the life that we got away from? We left it years ago Draco, we’re okay now.”

The sound of the lock turning brought you to your feet and when the door opened your heart sank.

There he was, exhaustion written across his face, the emotion unreadable behind his pale eyes.

He dropped his wand and immediately his arms wrapped around you, his body collapsing into yours.

Quiet sobs escaped his lips as you slowly lead him over to the bed laying him down. Turning out the few lights left on you crawled in next to him instantly wrapping him into you. His head slipped perfectly onto your chest, your hands and legs entangling together. His cries began to die off and his breaths slowly went back to normal.

He cleared his throat before whispering an “i’m sorry” against your skin.

“Don’t ever be sorry. We each have our own demons from the war and i’m with you through them all, just like you are for me. We’ll be okay, we’re always okay.” you told him, your fingers softly tracing small shapes along his bare back.

He lifted his chin slightly to look up at you, “I know. I’ll always be okay with you my love.” he whispered before falling asleep in your arms.

[wandsandwheezes]

Date Night | G.W

WARNINGS // 1.4k // NSFW 18+, Fingering, Sex, Oral (FemReceiving), Pussy Worship, Happy Stable Relationship, The MOST Amount of Lovvins, MILD Bondage & Daddy Kink, Overstim ??, KISSESSSSS

A/N // Hi loves after a... very long hiatus I'm here with a lil georgie smut to make your day (hopefully)

The echo of open-mouthed kisses and sultry giggles filled the hallway as you both stumbled into your apartment after a night on the town. George had really treated you this evening, cashing out on expensive gifts and a luxurious meal you would never forget. He hummed happily, dropping the bags on the floor, finally able to get his hands on you again as he pulled you in for another, more intimate kiss.

The reality was that George could hardly keep his hands off of you, not since leaving the restaurant. He was almost too eager to have you pressed up against the wall as he kissed you just that bit more passionately, his hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you into him, he pulled away for a second, forehead resting against yours as he asked, breathily, “Do you want this?” 

You nodded, hands coming up to tangle in his hair as you crashed your lips into his again. It felt like forever since he had kissed you like this, hell, since you had even touched each other intimately. Work had him up at stupid hours and you were spread seven different ways, covering hours at the shop, at your own job, with trying to get your exams out of the way, it was safe to say that this evening with him was needed.

You had practically dragged him to the bedroom, pushing the suit jacket off his shoulders as you kissed him again, breaking the kiss only to spin around, pouting over your shoulder as you spoke, “unzip me, please?” 

He groaned a little, hands pushing your hair over your shoulder as he slowly began to unzip the beautiful dress you were wearing, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of skin that the zip exposed, stopping only to tug at the perfect bow at the base of your spine, almost as if he were unwrapping you, his own perfect gift.

You sighed needily, spinning in his arms to reach up and press another kiss to his jaw, letting the dress fall to the floor as it slipped off your body, nimble fingers playing with his tie as you look up at him through thick lashes, beginning to untie it. You wrapped the satin tie around her hand, pulling it off and placing it on the bed, leaning up to press a kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering “for later, sir.” 

That was enough for George to be lifting you off of the floor and onto the bed, settling between your legs as you hooked them around his hips, your expensive red bottoms still on as he began to grind into you, desperate for some friction. 

“I’ve wanted to absolutely ruin you all day, pet, I think you only deserve as much.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your lips before pushing away, only to pull your hips to the edge of the bed, his fingers slipping your underwear to the side, the pad of his middle finger slipping through the wetness before circling your clit, “who did this, hm? my little bunny is absolutely soaked.”

“Y-you did, daddy.” His touch and words made you shiver, bucking your hips into his hand to gain some more friction, only for him to press your hips back down to the bed with a tut and shake of his head, “be good now, princess.”

You whined, wanting to close your legs together and squeeze just to get some friction, sighing happily as if he could hear your thoughts, his tongue darting out to lap at his perfect little clit. It was no question that you belonged to him, your hands tangling in his soft, fiery locks as he ate you like you were his last meal on earth.

This man was like a skilled artist with his tongue, painting works of art in your pussy as he pulled you closer and closer to release, your moans only growing louder for him, he pulled away momentarily, his thumb adding much needed pressure to your clit as he hummed, “My baby’s perfect little cunt tastes like heaven on daddy’s tongue.” 

Even as your first release came and washed over you, tugging at his hair as you desperately squealed for him, bucking your hips into his mouth, he continued, lapping up your juices for all he could take, not stopping till he was finished with you. Your legs were already shaking as he sucked on your clit, begging him for more, “Mmh daddy please, don’t stop.” 

His tongue licked thick stripes up and down your pussy, drinking your release in for his own pleasure as he began to fuck you with his tongue, hands holding your hips as he pulled you to rock against him, his gorgeous Grecian nose circling your clit as he pulled you to your edge again, only growing harder at the way his name spluttered from your lips as you came on his tongue for the second time.

His hand continued to rub and play with your clit before using two fingers to push and pull you open for him, “that’s my good girl, daddy’s so proud of you, bunny.” He praised, fingering you antagonisingly slow as he pressed languid kisses to your cheeks. “Ready to take my cock, princess?”

You nodded eagerly, moving to go and unbuckle his belt, only for him to push you back, doing it himself. “Tonight’s about, you, my sweet girl, ‘m gonna have you seeing stars.” He chuckled, stripping himself naked before gently begging to pull down your underwear, chucking them over his shoulder diving between your legs one last time to get a final taste, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs as well as your already sensitive clit.

“Ready, bun?” He asked, smoothing your hair out of your face as he lined himself up, pressing his lips to yours as she slowly inched his cock into you, not stopping till he was bottomed out, shuddering at the way your slick, tight cunt, wrapped around him so perfectly. “Jesus baby, if only you could feel how tight this little pussy was,”

He began to fuck into you slowly, chuckling at the way you whimpered and clung onto him, finally thankful for the friction and the feeling of him hitting deep inside you. Your desperate whines turned to moans as his pace quickened, you getting off alone to the sounds of his moans for you, swallowing them with needy kisses. You adored this feeling of being one, bucking your hips into his as you settled into this perfect rhythm of fucking, him absolutely using you for everything he could take. 

He pulled out, flipping you over, using his tie to pull and secure your hands behind you, chuckling as you begged him to fuck you again. “Needy girl, can’t you wait for me, hm?” he watched as your hips wiggled in the air, desperate for him. His hand pushed down on the small of your back, making sure you were arching just right as he pushed inside of you again, groaning out at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“That’s it, bubba.” He praised, fingers digging into your hips as he set his relentless pace, fucking into you like he had everything to lose, his staggering thrusts growing more frequent as he reached his own climax, holding out till he knew you were close to the edge, his hand reaching round to circle your clit, pulling a third release from you as he spilled his seed deep inside you, a marvellous string of moans and frustrated grunts falling from his lips. 

That sound alone made butterflies erupt inside you, sighing deeply with satisfaction as he quickly pulled the tie loose, curling you into his arms as your breathing both steadied. He was good at being attentive, always had been, especially when he’d pushed you a little further than the norm. 

“Hey Georgie?” You called, cradling his jaw, a thumb stroking over his unbelievably soft skin, a happy hum falling from his lips. You looked up at him, your gaze full of adoration and full wholehearted love that you needn’t say the words, yet you opted to nevertheless. “Yeah, angel?” 

“I love you… thank you, not just for today, but… for the rest of our lives.” 

“I love you, amore.” He whispered proudly, pressing a kiss to your lips once more, then a soft one to your forehead before getting up, slinging some underwear on and finding your favourite sweater of his to wrap you up in for now, making sure that you were well and truly taken care of, the way you should be. 

Taglist // @darthwheezely​ @lycanlupins​ @lumosandnoxwriting​

[zazima]

“how did you get in here?”

Sirius raises an eyebrow at Harry, who’s tucked in between the rickety writing desk and shabby armchair that’s sure to have some undiscovered magical species nesting in its cushions.

“Have you forgotten that this is the house I grew up in?” Sirius asks, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed against his chest. “I discovered every nook and cranny by the time I was four. The better question to ask is how did you get in here?” He pushes himself off the wooden frame, moves across the room in three easy strides, and settles down cross-legged in front of Harry. 

Harry shrugs, his fingers twisting in his shirt. “I dunno. I was just wandering around. Opened the first door I saw.”

Sirius looks at him for beat. “I see. Do we wanna talk about why you were wandering around by yourself while everyone else is enjoying each other’s raucous company downstairs? Including our absolute favorite Ministry officials? I thought Belching was gonna be stuck with how low he was bowing to you.”

Harry doesn’t answer nor does crack a smile at Sirius’ joke, but his hands still. He sighs and looks at Sirius, green eyes meeting grey. “I just... needed to get away for a minute. Everything got to be too much, and it... got hard to breathe.”

Sirius’ heart cracks. “Oh love,” he breathes. He leans forward and tangles their fingers together. It’s not enough. “Move over,” he instructs. Harry wiggles aside and Sirius forces himself into the tiny space next to his kid. It’s a tight squeeze, but after a few seconds, godfather and godson are both sitting against the wall, legs and arms pressed against each other in a firm line. Sirius wraps an arm around Harry’s thin shoulders.

“I just feel like I can never be who they want me to be,” Harry whispers, leaning his head against Sirius’s collarbone. Sirius presses his lips to the crown of his head.

“Don’t worry about them,” says Sirius fiercely. “You let them entertain their own expectations of their ‘Savior of the Wizarding World’. You just focus on getting better. Which you are.”

Neither of them speak for a moment, instead just listening to each other breathe.

“You’re doing wonderful, Harry,” Sirius insists. “Just operate on your time and on your own terms. Fuck everyone else. You’re not living for them.”

Harry nods, Sirius reiterating a message told time and time again. “Thanks Sirius. For everything.”

Sirius hides his smile in Harry’s hair. “No need, Harry. It’s you and me kid, remember? Us against the world.”

[ezzydean]

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” - Ron and Draco

another little beautiful pile of words for you my dear

Ron has to give Draco credit.  He only hesitates for the briefest of moments — a hesitation Ron only notices because he knows Draco so well — before he steps into his bedroom and heads for the closet.

“Is there a reason you’re not only in my rooms but you’re naked in my bed?” Draco asks over his shoulder as he pulls off his robes and hangs them up.  “And does it have anything to do with you being noticeably absent from today’s staff meeting?”

“There is a reason, yes,” Ron mumbles.  He’s still a little groggy from last night and to be honest he’s probably lucky he’s in Draco’s room and not halfway across the castle asleep in a cold alcove or something.

“Wait.”  Draco leans out of the closet and gives Ron a considering look.  “Does the reason involve too much firewhisky, Blaise, Luna, or chocolate frogs?”

“No.”

Draco glares at him.  “Does it involve too much firewhisky, Blaise, Luna and chocolate frogs?”

“Maybe.”

“Ron.”

“I can’t be entirely certain about the frogs part.  Luna brought the good stuff.  Not the expensive stuff.  The good stuff.  Pretty sure she got it from actual faeries or somethin’ like that.”  Ron wriggles around a bit until he can snag the blankets by his feet and wrap himself in them.  “I actually heard Blaise laugh last night.  I think it was the first time I ever heard that sound.  It’s pretty.”

Draco collapses into the armchair in the corner and shakes his head at Ron, but he’s got an amused glint in his eyes so Ron figures he can’t be too mad at him.

“If you’re going to tell me you’re in love with my best friend I’m going to kick you out of my room, naked or not.”

“He has a pretty laugh.  That doesn’t mean I’m about to try an’ fight Harry for him.”  Ron yawns.  “Besides I’ve got you.  That’s more than enough Slytherin digging into the intimate corners of my life thanks.”

Draco’s cheeks flush and Ron laughs.

“If you’re trying to woo me you’re going to have to try a lot harder than showing up in my bed naked and hungover and saying a few nice things to me you know.”

Ron grins.  “Oh, I know.  Don’t worry.  You’ll be wooed properly and all that.  I’ll be smooth and cunning enough to surprise even you.  You won’t even realize it’s happening until we’re practically living together.”

Draco’s cheeks flush even more.  “You’re not allowed to hang out with Blaise anymore.  The man knows too many of my secrets.  It’s far too dangerous to allow you two together.”

“Says the man who spends most of his free time grading papers and taking lunch in the same office as my ex-girlfriend and gets into scarily deep conversations with my best friend more often than I do.”

“Go back to sleep,” Draco says eventually.  “I’ll make sure to wake you for supper.”

Ron laughs and buries himself in Draco’s bed.

[gingerfangirl1]

In their room with the radio playing gently in the background, Draco sits in the middle of their bed with his kneazle curled at his feet.

He has been staring at the messy scrawl of this letter for the past half hour even though he has long since remembered it’s contents.

Harry had sent it about a week and a half ago when he had finally found a safe place to write from. He has been away for three weeks and Draco has only received this one letter; slowly he is going mad.

Harry is on missions for weeks at a time and although Draco is now used to the set up, it’s still painfully stressful to wait around for word on his husbands safety. Sometimes he doesn’t receive any letters at all. Sometimes it just isn’t safe enough for Harry to write until the whole thing is over, and then he is coming home anyway and so there is no real need to send anything.

As for now, when Harry has already been away for three weeks, his letter is just a cause for pain. Draco has re-read it six times just today. He read it multiple times yesterday too, and the day before.

It is the only thing tying him to Harry at the moment and therefore the only thing to hold dear. He even took it to work this morning and pulled it out in his breaks just to read it once more.

It doesn’t even contain anything special, just a brief outline of the teams situation and a rough, definitely wrong estimation of when they would be finished.

Harry’s guesses are never correct, he has been an auror for six years and he has never once guessed right. They always finish much later than he says and yet Draco always counts on that day being right. He always pins his hopes on it and then it passes and anxiety settles with dread.

It’s only after the date passes that he thinks something might have gone wrong. Maybe this time Harry will be hurt. Maybe this time is unlucky.

Harry thought he would be home four days ago, hence Draco’s unhealthy obsession with the letter.

If he checks it often enough maybe his fears will go away, or a least lessen slightly.

It never works and now, at eleven o’clock, when he should be getting ready for bed he is biting his nails and resisting the urge to pace. Fi, their kneazle, sensing his nerves hops up from the end of the bed and plops herself down on his lap instead, butting her head against his arm for attention.

He is forced to put the letter aside and pet her instead. Her soft white fur slipping through his fingers rhythmically. As she probably intended, he does begin to relax and after a while he is once again calm enough to slide under the duvet and settle for the night. Fi follows him and perches herself on the pillow beside his head. She looks at him for a few elongated seconds as if trying to make sure he is alright before she too settles down.

They both close their eyes to sleep.

Hours later he wakes to sound of the front door closing. He’s immediately on high alert thinking through the prospect of someone having broken in. He doesn’t move from the bed, he just sits up and listens for now, fishing loosely for his wand on the nightstand.

There’s a soft groan that drops into a heavy sigh and then the creaky stair gives off a squeak as the person puts their weight on it. But they don’t move other than that.

After a few minutes of waiting for them to do something Draco realises it isn’t an intruder at all. They didn’t break in, they unlocked he door, the alarms didn’t go off so it’s someone tied into the wards.

Harry.

He is out of bed in seconds, tearing across the hall landing like a child on Christmas morning.

He halts at the top of the stairs, looking down into the shadows to see a figure slumped against the wall. His heart warming instantly at the sight as he makes his way down.

Stopping to sit on the step behind him he sets his knees around Harry’s sides and leans down against his back looping his arms around his neck loosely and pressing his face to his hair, greasy from being away for so long.

They don’t speak a word. Harry just takes Draco’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm then seals it by folding their hands together and linking their fingers.

Who knows how long they sit there, holding hands and leaning against one another but eventually Harry’s head falls back slightly into Draco’s shoulder with a soft thump and a drowsy sigh.

It wouldn’t do for him to fall asleep here so whilst brushing a light kiss to his forehead, Draco stands and begins to gently pull him up.

He protests lightly, a soft groan rumbling up from his chest but he follows nonetheless and trudges up the stairs behind Draco who still has a hold of his hand.

The reach their bedroom and Harry is simply dead on his feet. He sways slightly leading Draco to push him down on the edge of the bed and start undoing all of the buttons on the front of his auror robes, slowly making his way through all nine of them before pulling the dark red robe from his shoulders.

Then come the undershirt and trousers. When Harry is sitting in just his boxers and socks Draco stands and pulls him up once more. The sheets pull themselves back with a wandless spell and Draco is guiding Harry under them.

He makes a soft noise of protest and half heartedly pushes Draco’s hands away. “M’dirty. I need t‘shower.” His words are no more than a mumble and hard to distinguish from each other. When he manages to make sense of them Draco nearly laughs.

Shaking his head and kissing Harry temple he manoeuvres him gently back to the mattress edge “I’ll clean the sheets in the morning. Come on, you’re tired. Get in.”

It doesn’t take much more than that and he‘s in and under the duvet watching mutely as Draco turns out the lamps and climbs in beside him.

Fi has long since left the bed in favour of the armchair in the corner, her favourite place to be, so the pillows are free of obstruction.

With the duvet up at his chin, Draco curls into Harry’s side, absorbing the warmth and presence that can only ever come from Harry Potter. Settling in for the night he whispers three soft words of relief into Harry’s skin and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t believe he’ll get an answer as Harry’s breathing is already deep and even, so nearly cries when a pair of arms wrap around his torso and the words are repeated back to him followed by a lingering kiss.

He drifts off to the musky smell of battle, the sound of an even heartbeat and the whispered words of “I love you too” swimming in his head.

The folded letter sits forgotten on the table because Harry is home. Alive and safe once more.

All is well.