Wehehe, guess who's back with another request? Hope you're doing well btw, you must've been very busy (⊙_◎)> anyways... Could you write on how the HPQDs met their S/O? Like, did they meet them at work or somewhere else? they did not like them at first? AGHHHH!1!1!!! I love how you write these characters sm, Hope you'll have a great day/night :)) -⭐ Anon
HPQD: Love at First Sight... Kind Of...
CONTENT: Usual HPQD shenanigans (age gaps), inappropriate use of the workplace, gentle harassment, mentions of stalking, reference to 'breeding' and children (Rudolph returns), one (1) emoji in the text, inappropriate use of the following: Reindeer costumes, food, mouth ulcer gels, pink sparkly notebooks and heatless curlers.
Word Count: 2.1k including FAQ at end
There may or may not be a rare, shiny new DILF-émon at the end. Scroll through to collect (especially ⭐ anon, you deserve it pookie)
AN: Here's the MASTERLINK to check stuff out... If you want.
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Hey... Gurl...
I'm here, I'm back with more DILFs. Here's how they met, as requested. I've been thinking about including a new DILF for a while- And I thought- Who better than the anon who literally shares my name?
Anyway - Sorry this took so long. Moved countries in the process, made some friends in a queue (uni is weird) and learned how to use Amazon lockers. I'm basically a functioning adult now- Yippee!
Someone tell me not to buy the merch. Please.
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Barty meets you at a Christmas party he swears he didn’t attend. You are in no way sexily dressed, no strapless Santa number, and definitely no elf-based rosy cheeks or bells somewhere naughty. No, no. He meets you dressed as a reindeer. Fully clothed, complete with antlers and face paint. Whether or not you celebrate Christmas is irrelevant. You are there, and you’re masquerading as Rudolph. No one can take you seriously, especially not him. He rolls his eyes, ridiculous young woman, but he can’t look away. You are so- Confident. So utterly unbothered. Barty realises there are, actually, other young people in costumes, but the rest are focusing on the sexy kind. You are just… A reindeer. He catches you in the bathroom fixing your hair, and strikes up something like a conversation.
“You… Look interesting today.”
You smile, not insulted,
“Thank you, Bartemius.”
He melts when you call him that. No one calls him his full name, he detests people he does not know calling him ‘Barty’, so unrefined. You could call him Barty, if you wanted. You don’t even care he’s there, you’re practically ignoring him.
“Do you have many plans for the week?”
“Not really, the usual, why?”
Barty pretends to be as unbothered as you are,
“Just… Making conversation.”
You smile again, you are being very smiley, and bounce off fixing your faux-antlers. And he is smitten, he’s going to name your first child Rudolph now. He tells people you meet several days later at a conference. Only you know the truth.
Rufus does, actually, meet you at a conference (I know, I know- He’s a boring old man) trying to get more young people into corporate positions- Too many aurors and not enough supervisors, he likes to say to himself. You’re a speaker on some vaguely relevant issue, he’s- Well- Head of the Auror Office. Much more impressive, obviously. You speak well, nothing especially dramatic or noteworthy, just well. Rufus, of course, hasn’t been out on the field for many, many a season. More than he likes to admit.
“You’d fit a decent career, you know.” He says eventually, “You have the tact for it.”
You nod slightly,
“It’s good brownie points to come to these things. And free lunch.”
Rufus does not especially laugh, but he does snort. Free lunch. At least you’re honest.
“Have you any interest in Magical Law?”
You hum, almost thoughtfully. Your eyes are not especially focused on him, or anything in particular,
“I have a placement in a junior advisory position on the Translatory Board.”
“That is impressive, how did you manage that?”
Suddenly, you turn into yourself a little bit. Your speech goes noticeably quieter.
“No one else wanted to do it…”
He’ll drink to that. As good a reason as any. Hell, he only got his position because he was the only one willing to retire from the field.
“To the jobs no one else will do.”
“To… That.”
And that is how the two of you meet. He tells this story with the most humour anyone has ever seen from him. It is not a lot, but he’s trying.
Fenrir is straight up stalking you. Look at this man, look at yourself, look at him again. Yes he is 2 feet closer than he was before. Invest in tape measures and possibly a restraining order. This is not dark fantasy, this is just Fenrir. You think you properly meet after he gets weirdly attached to you over Death Eater shenanigans. He thinks you met 4 ½ weeks earlier.
It isn’t really his fault. You smell nice. He debates eating you twice and then settles for breeding, like any good gentleman… He thinks. Once he knows enough about your personal life he begins randomly bringing you products you happen to have run out of. The laundry detergent you use, a new coffee mug. It gets weirdly personal. Of course, you just think he’s being sweet.
“Hey- Hey-”
Fenrir is holding a box of mouth ulcer gel. Your hand goes to the side of your mouth,
“Oh… Thanks, sweetie.”
Sweetie. He is no-one’s sweetie, but he is yours. Fenrir is practically foaming, almost rabid. It would be even better if you’d pat his hair and call him a good boy, but he might devour you instantly if you did that.
“Heh- You’re welcome. You should- Be careful. I’ll walk you home, you need the protection. You're delicious, did you know that?”
“Erm… I didn’t- Know that… But thank you- I think.”
And he does, walk you home. He already knows where you live, after all. Don’t invite him in, he’ll get in your underwear drawer… And the laundry basket.
He stops stalking you immediately after that, apart from when you’re playing games and pretends not to notice him. You tell the story of him noticing your discomfort and going out of his way to help you out. He knows he’s the big, bad wolf. Fenrir doesn’t really deserve the prince charming story, but he won’t stop you from telling it.
Lord Voldemort probably actually meets you as a very young girl (if we are acknowledging you as a pureblooded woman with ties to his organisation). Obviously there is no romantic energy there, and that’s all you want to read about (filthy pervert), so let’s time travel two decades forward.
He has entirely forgotten who you are, apart from potentially ‘your father’s daughter’, or ‘your brother’s little sister’. But you are very sweet, you smile nicely and offer him tea. LV is not convinced you are aware who he is, it’s quite nice to be treated normally for once. He will drink your tea, it is the first time he is reported to accept any refreshment at a meeting.
“Here, my Lord.”
“Thank you, pet.”
The Dark Lord calls no one pet, but you have made him a plate of unsugared shortbread. His favourite. You are his favourite too, that much is obvious.
You are not invited to this meeting, and are making a decent show of proving how annoyed you are about it. He finds you every so often doing - Well, he isn’t sure- You are constantly appearing and reappearing, dusting things, offering tea. It is the eighth time you have done this. He calls your name.
“It slipped my mind entirely to find a note-taker, why don’t you join us?”
He does not forget, but you are so happy to sit right beside him he will handle a little white lie.
By the time you’ve done your second paragraph in that little pink, sparkly notebook he is writing your mother and arranging discussions for marriage. You’ll be his, he’ll have a sweet wife who makes him shortbread platters.
Igor meets you whilst he’s trying to break a world record for most Teaching Standard violations… Ever. Listen, unless you’re alive in the early 80s (and of legal age, if we’re going by GoF) you’re not meeting until you get your pretty ass to Durmstrang for a job interview - Look hot.
You are expecting a six-foot, hairy Slavic man exuding confidence. A little sleazy, a dark past, and pure dark academic material. What you get is an overgrown dachshund with attachment issues: jumpy, soft, and consistently banging into things.
He is obsessed, high key. You can have the job, you can have whatever you want. Pin him to a wall if you so wish it. Igor certainly does. In fact, he’s so busy trying to figure out how to politely ask if you’re down, you never even fully find out if you’re hired or not…
“So- Erm- Do I… Start at the beginning of next year?”
“Huh? Oh, I don’t care. Start now if you want.”
Igor is staring at you intently enough it is mildly uncomfortable. You smile anyway. He does seem sweet, if a little awkward. Yes- Awkward might be the polite term for it.
“Have you eaten yet?”
He is watching you absolutely devour a bread roll. He is in love. Igor slides you over the wine. Why is there suddenly light jazz playing? If you’re going to let him down, do it now before he gets attached.
Is it Love at First Sight?:
Barty: Yes, but he won’t admit it. Absolutely schedules every meeting he can in your department.
Rufus: No, go be a strong independent woman, stop making your face so memorable. Stop it.
Fenrir: He debates eating you twice, what do you think?
Voldemort: Canonically doesn’t feel love, but he’s already named your children.
Igor: Careless Whisper intensifies
There is a mysterious noise coming from the trees- What’s this? A new DILF has come to join the party! As is custom, you’ll get 3 clues as to who it is…
Blond
Spends entirely too much money on haircare
Works in the Ministry (not really)
That’s right… You’ve unlocked - Corban Yaxley!
(Refunds not issued for those of you expecting Lucius. Lucius is NOT a questionable DILF. He’s just a DILF).
If there’s one thing we know about the pure blooded world, there’s money to be made in beauty. Yaxley is vain (look at his lil bow), he’s mature, and he’s 🤤. You lock eyes when he sits in your chair, complaining about his roots. You’re pureblooded, but you’ve made a damn good sickle running your parlour, and no one is questioning a woman in business. You take him yourself. He practically whines,
“The greys are so much more noticeable on blond hair, I don’t know who said they weren’t.”
“It’s not grey, muffin.” Muffin. What a stupid name. He loves it. “Just a bit silvery. Very mature, very handsome.”
Yaxley rolls his eyes, you are just pandering him again.
“I want them gone.”
You go and quietly instruct one of the apprentices to mix up some new potion for him whilst you check his head,
“You know, love, if you keep appearing like this I’m going to think you have other intentions.”
Yaxley almost jumps. He has never even been here before, and you’re already catching him out. He hates it. Don’t stop touching him.
He is, as you might expect, a menace in the chair. Worse than a child. At least he takes good enough care of his hair you don’t have to get the iron out. Who knew it was even possible to have naturally like-straightened hair? No wonder he wears a braid all of the time, he’s probably desperate for texture.
You cover the mirror 7 ½ minutes into the appointment, like some Georgian aristocrat blocking in their windows. He’ll forgive you, but only because you use a nice, black silk cape and he owns a cloak in nearly the same material. Yaxley sits very still as you fix his roots, sworn to secrecy.
“Are you nearly done yet?”
You whack him with the soft-side of the brush. It sends a jolt of something down his spine.
“I will be if you stop whinging.”
When you’re finally finished with him you refuse to take payment. He appears at closing time insisting to make up for it with dinner plans. You accept, obviously.
Love at First Sight?
It’s certainly something like it.
Light FAQs about the new DILF, by me:
Why Yaxley?
He’s thin, he’s blond, and his coke is from Cuba - Nah, kidding. I’m interested in his character seeing as he’s the only Death Eater actually given some personality except the Malfoys and derivatives, and sometimes Snape. Also he’s Scottish, and I don’t think we have that representation yet. We’ve got the Welsh, and the North and international rep- But no Scots… Well, we do now.
Wait… Why are you calling him ‘Yaxley’ when everyone else is called their first name?
Because She Who Must Not Be Named insisted on calling him ‘Corban’ and not the more common ‘Corbyn’ and it confuses my brain. Also Yaxley is a boss ass name. Bottom of the alphabet, top tier.
And I’ve called LV ‘Voldemort’ for the entirety of this series, because I am NOT pandering to the Riddle girls (I still don’t know what a f*cking Matteo is and I don’t think I want to find out). I do still include 'Tom Riddle x' in my tags, though.
Is he a ‘questionable’ DILF?
Yes, but because he works in government and not because he’s a Death Eater. Being a Questionable DILF requires significant paperwork, you know.
(Fenrir gets an exemption from doing it because he eats it every single time)
Will you be including catch-ups on the earlier series to include him?
Yes, he paid the registration fee and submitted his request in triplicate. Look out to see which pieces have been edited, at your convenience (I’ll be doing them in published order).
*If you made it this far you're officially obsessed with Yaxley. Excellent job, I'm very proud.