#microfic prompt

[eyeofcalliope]

Apr 29 - symptom - 397 words - @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic

Regulus was dying. That was the only viable solution.

"Madame Pomfrey!" He burst into the Medical Wing, frantic.

She startled from her potion making, eyes widening at the sight of the youngest Black. Regulus was notorious for avoiding the Medical Wing like the plague.

"Mister Black! Are you okay?" Regulus shook his head fast.

"Not at all. I think I'm dying." She nodded, although skeptically.

"I doubt that but let's check you out, okay?" She guided him to a bed, pulling back the curtain. "Tell me. what has happened?" Regulus took a deep breath, trying to shake off his fear and nerves.

"I think I'm having a heart attack. Either that or I've been cursed. I don't know which is worse." Poppy hummed, casting a spell to measure his pulse, heart beats, and oxygen levels. He continued.

"I've looked in every book in the library to try to find what is happening but nothing is conclusive. I think it might be new and I will die soon." Poppy laughed, flicking her wand again.

"Your heart looks very healthy, Mister Black. Why don't you share your symptoms with me. I know quite a bit about health, both magical and mundane." She said with a smile. Regulus sighed and nodded.

"Okay. It started small and only occasionally a few months ago. My hands get all sweaty out of nowhere, even if I was cold a minute ago . And my heart will start to beat really fast and even skip sometimes. I get light headed and this nauseous kind of feeling in my stomach. And Barty and Evan say I always get really flushed when it happens."

Poppy blinked, taking it all in. Regulus stared back, terrified.

"So?"

She began to laugh, sending potions and equipment back to where they was. Regulus stared, mouth open in shock.

"Regulus, dear, you aren't dying or cursed. Well, not a magical curse at least."

"So what is it then? What even is a non magical curse?" Poppy only smiled at him.

"You, my dear, are in love. I'm assuming it only happens around one person in particular?" Regulus turned red and whispered.

"In…love?" She nodded, patting his hands.

"Congrats, dear." Regulus looked down.

"Oh."

Poppy moved away, cleaning up a spilled potion.

"Oh," He breathed out the word, "I have to find James."

He was gone before she could say another word.

[fates-little-crow]

Ring

@drarrymicrofic

"You know what? No, I want to speak first," Draco declares as he places his hands on his hips in an endearingly familiar stance. He does not wait for a response before he forges on:

"I was thinking earlier today about how we've been together for six years, Harry. Six!" Draco gestures as he speaks, hands thrown up into the air. "How in Merlin's name have you not proposed to me yet? Maybe this extended courting period has just been all fun and games to you -"

"Draco -"

"- but I assure you, it is not merely fun to me. Well, not that it is not fun dating you, of course - no, wait, I'm not going to compliment you on how nice you are to date, because you haven't even -"

"Love -"

"- and Granger and Weasley, and Longbottom and Lovegood, have all married off at this point -"

"Draco."

The drama queen heaves a long-suffering sigh. "What is it?"

Harry holds up the box he'd taken out of his pocket when Draco had first begun his rant. The top was open, revealing a deep onyx band set with emeralds.

Harry doesn't even get the chance to ask The Question before his boyfriend - fiancé - has thrown himself into his arms with slender limbs winding around him like a damn snake.

[a--clockwork--lemon]

17th December 2025 || @drarrymicrofic || prompt : "overdue" || word count : 300

Harry woke up to fingers running through his hair. Manicured nails gently scratched his scalp sending pleasure rippling through him. It was lovely. And so astonishingly familiar now. Prying his eyes open, Harry shifted to look at his partner, who- not having noticed that Harry was awake- continued to play with his curls whilst flicking through a book. Draco always looked gorgeous in the mornings- his platinum hair all out of place, his scars not glamoured away. Harry got to see Draco as he was. Smart, and flawed, and beautiful, and his. Harry's favourite of Draco's expressions appeared: the furrowed eyebrows with creases between them. Sometimes it came with rage, sometimes with concentration, sometimes when Draco got a bit too 'Malfoy'. But Harry loved it all the same, because after the expression always came the softening of Draco's gaze, like mercury. And it was always so intimate, vulnerable and loving. "I love you." Draco's expression remained still and unreactive. Perhaps he didn't... love Harry back? It had been a few months, but it felt right. Not too soon, if anything, he said it too late. The creases between Draco's brows vanished as he turned to Harry, his eyes sparkling with... something. "Well Potter, that was long overdue." "What?" Harry refused to let his jaw fall open, the way Draco often teased him for ('you'll catch flies if you don't stop that, darling'). But as it always did, Draco's metallic stare melted into utter affection. The book was set aside, and the men lay face to face. "You've been telling me in your sleep, you know.” Telling Draco what? Shit, this was not going to plan. "I've been telling you..?" Draco smiled gently at him, pressing a light kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth. "I love you too, you idiot."

[kattich]

393 words for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: fold

If Harry had had a mother to call right now, he would have. He liked to think it was the sort of thing she’d have loved: him ringing her up to ramble about this boy he liked. Something Harry was sure he would have loved too. Except the “boy” wasn’t a boy at all, but a tall, posh, stubborn man. A colleague. One who thought Harry was a lunatic most of the time, but who also bought him coffee and lunch when work had him stressed and too tired to bother. And who even let him prattle endlessly about sourdough on pub nights.

Since he didn’t have a mum to calm him down with soothing words and tea, he firecalled his best friend, who was always helpful with unhelpful advice and beer.

After all, best mates had to stick together in these mad times, when a not-so-brave-at-the-moment Gryffindor had gone and fallen for a clever, sarcastic ex-rival Slytherin.

“Do you want me to ask him?” Ron offered, far too loyal, and far too insane.

The dread and panic those words sparked were almost enough to finish Harry off for good.

“No!” 

“Just asking!”

“Please don’t say anything — to anyone,” Harry begged. 

“I just want you to be happy, that’s all. Reckon I could drop it into a chat, casual, like: ‘So, do you fancy my best mate’?”

“What are we, thirteen-year-old girls?!”

“Feels like it,” Ron mumbled around a mouthful of chips, but Harry heard him just fine. So what if his stomach fluttered every time he spotted a blond head, or his chest went giddy whenever work took him down to the potions lab in the basement to discuss crime scene evidence?

Harry really did not like the calculated look on Ron’s face, as if the whole situation were a game of chess and victory only two moves away. His suspicion was confirmed when Ron said:

“Listen, I’ve got a meeting with him on Monday about the Anderson case. I could let it slip that—”

“For Merlin’s sake!”

And so, because Harry had no mother, but did have a knobhead of a best mate, he ended up standing in front of Draco’s lab for what felt like an eternity that Monday morning. Bracing himself. Stretching out the time between secretly crushing on Draco and actually confessing his feelings — before Ron did it for him.

[pottersboy]

Prompt: Overdrive

@drarrymicrofic

word count: 159

“Had enough yet, Malfoy?” asked the burly behemoth, whose name escaped memory. Little time was left to actually answer the thinly veiled threat before a fist collided with Draco’s jaw.

He spit blood onto the cold cement floor then trained his eyes on the men, the surrounding light dimming them into nothing but shadows. Draco could barely make out the form of the leader as he cocked his head and answered, “Actually, I was thinking we were just getting started.”

He may be outmanned six to one, bound to a chair, and currently without any weapons save his quick wit. But he still had the upper hand. The air was suddenly charged, sending goosebumps down Draco’s arms.

His kidnappers, sensing danger, drew their wands as the familiar smell of ozone surrounded them. Lightning was about to strike, and Draco’s heart was in overdrive from the anticipation.

“Perhaps, gentlemen,” Draco managed a wicked grin, “you’ve forgotten who my husband is.”

loosely inspired by this artwork by @mashruuums

[probablynotremus]

Mechanic Shop AU- @wolfstarmicrofic - 275 words

“Remus?” Sirius called to the only customer in the shop, the place oddly quiet in the middle of the day.

Remus looked up from today’s paper, head tilted. “Yes? Done already?”

Sirius let out a nervous laugh, wiping oil from his hands and rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly.”

Remus’s expression shifted. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh no, everything’s fine. It’s just… You never gave me the keys.” Sirius chuckled dryly.

The man looked mortified as he fished around in the pocket of his brown corduroy pants, pulling them out after far too long a pause. “Blimey, I can’t believe I forgot.”

Sirius shook his head. “It’s alright. I’ll just be working on your car for a little longer than expected. Though… there’s one way you could make it up to me.”

Remus tilted his head. “How?”

“You buy takeaway this time.” Sirius winked.

Remus snorted softly. “Didn’t I buy it last time?”

Sirius blinked, feigning innocence, “Did you? Could’ve sworn that was me.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t.”

Sirius shrugged, “How could we know for sure?”

“Fine. I’ll buy it again. I did waste your time, after all.” Remus huffed a laugh, then gestured toward the garage. “How much longer until my car’s done?”

Sirius shrugged. “I haven’t had a proper look at the engine yet, so there’s no telling. Why don’t you take Lisa?”

Lisa, his cherry-red 1967 Ford Mustang, sat gleaming out front.

Remus immediately shook his head. “I’m not comfortable driving manual, though. You’ll have to drop me off.”

Sirius’s expression softened. “You say that like it’s a burden. Come on, love, let’s grab a bite before I drop you off at uni.”

[nosestuckinabookwrites]

@drarrymicrofic prompt: bolt | 158 words | M

“Maybe you should bolt the door shut next time!” Albus yells as he scrambles backwards and books it down the corridor of Malfoy Manor.

Scorpius watches his father and Harry, blue eyes wide with fascination where they’re still joined intimately on the bed.

“Aren’t you going to bolt too, Scorp?” Harry asks him lightly, and he snaps his slack mouth shut before carefully backing towards the threshold.

After he’s gone, Harry collapses on top of Draco in a fit of laughter, while his husband does his best impression of a beet.

“That was—”

“Oh, come on, Draco. It was hysterical.”

“They’re our children—”

“They’re eighteen, and you know they’re shagging each other too.”

Draco sighs, as if the revelation that absolutely was not a revelation at all had taken several years off his life.

Harry gives him a light tap on one arsecheek. “Again?” Giving Draco a crooked grin, he adds, “I’ll even lock the door this time.”

[oh-phoenixx]

"Purple" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 405 words

-

Regulus loved his boyfriend with his entire heart. Really, he did. But James could not sit still for the life of him. 

Regulus had been too busy for a proper date, so James suggested that they study in the library together. However, James’s version of studying seemed quite different from Regulus’s. For example, Regulus had his nose buried in Advanced Potion-Making, doing research for his Potions essay; James, on the other hand, was reading something called Spider-Man that a muggleborn in his year had brought him. He kept trying to show Regulus how cool it was, as neither had heard of a “comic” before then. 

After finishing the comic, James sat back with a sigh, periodically letting out bored groans, which Regulus ignored for as long as he could. 

James groaned once again and Regulus couldn’t do it anymore. “What do you want, James?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m so bored, Reggie,” James whined. 

Regulus rolled his eyes and got a pen out of his bag, handing it to James along with a piece of parchment. “Draw something.”

This seemed to work, and Regulus got back to his reading. After a few minutes, though, James grabbed his arm gently and Regulus felt something cold dragging along his skin. His head snapped towards James’s hands, finding that he was doodling on Regulus’s arm. His first instinct was to protest, to pull his arm away and snap at James. But seeing the happy look on James’s face (and realising that, at last, Regulus was provided the silence that he needed), he let him continue with a sigh. 

By the time Regulus had finished with his reading and had made all the necessary notes to complete his essay, the entirety of his arm was covered in purple ink; suns, stars, stick-men, James’s own initials (with hearts all around them, of course), and other little doodles coating his skin. 

“Bit arrogant of you to put your initials all over my arm, don’t you think?” Regulus pointed out with no real conviction. He would have those initials tattooed if James wanted. 

James just shrugged, kissing his arm gently and then taking his bag for him as they stood up. “You can wash it off if you like.”

They left the library hand in hand. Regulus didn’t wash the ink away, and was actually quite upset when it came off in the shower. At least he knew how to shut James up now.