Ron had been happy to let it go this time. Most due to the fact that he was in the middle of a crowded hall but as soon as Draco insulted the burrow he knew that ignoring him wasn’t an option. “You don’t want to know Malfoy. I might just ruin them when I’m kicking your ass.” Ron said as he stared back at the slytherin.
“So what you’re telling me is you’ll attempt to nick my own shoes and kick my arse while wearing them?” Draco folded his arms, cocking his head to one side. “Oh Weasley you’re a cliche, poor and a thief.”
alice sat in the middle of the quidditch pitch while hugging her broomstick. she had just had her own share of fun by flying around the whole school earlier and now she’s dead tired. as she let her upper half of her body fall onto the soft prickly grass, she closed her eyes to busk in the sunlight, only to scrunch her nose when a shadow blocked the sun away from her. “if you’re telling me to get off the grass, just give me a minute will you? you don’t own this place.”
“Might as well own it with the amount of donations my family has given to the place.” Draco sniffed, one fine-boned hand wrapped around the stick of his broom. “Do what you like.”
“Meh.” Ron said with a shrug as he looked down at the shoes before looking back up. Ron raised an eyebrow at Draco actually scaring himself with how happy he was to see him. He had been wanting some normalcy right about now and this was something he knew exactly how to deal with. "you bumped into me you git so next time you be careful.”
Draco was just a hair shorter than Ron, a fact that irked him no end, yet he still somehow managed to look down his nose at him. “Or what, you great oaf?” He quirked a corner of his mouth into a smirk, “You’ll ruin a pair of shoes worth more than that hovel you call a house?”
Ron knew something was up. Sure he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box at times but there was triple the amount of students here - one who claimed to have the same name as his mother. And he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Moving through he ever growing crowd he felt someone push him forward slightly. “Oi! Watch where your going.” He said as he turned around. “Bloody git.”
“Tut tut Weasley, you almost scuffed the suede.” He peered down at the toe of his shoe, a sneer on his mouth. Time itself had cast him adrift and he had nothing but Pansy and Blaise to hold him down. This. This, however, he knew how to do. “Be careful would you? I don’t have time to wait for you to try and muster two knuts together to get them properly cleaned.”
hi hello im late getting this up but i’m m and this is draco who will be over here on the top of trash mountain with a crown made of garbage on his pointy head.
LUCKY BLUE SMITH? NO, THAT’S ACTUALLY DRACO MALFOY FROM THE GOLDEN TRIO ERA. YOU KNOW, THE CHILD OF NARCISSA BLACK AND LUCIUS MALFOY? ABOUT TO BEGIN THEIR SIXTH YEAR, THIS SLYTHERIN STUDENT IS SIDED WITH THE DEATH EATERS. HE IDENTIFIES AS CISMALE AND IS A PUREBLOOD WHO IS KNOWN TO BE SNIDE, SUPERCILIOUS, AND INTOLERANT BUT ALSO OBSERVANT, PROUD, AND DUTIFUL. — &&.
you all know draco the straight savage and also the biggest drama queen cry baby ever to have existed
his brain is basically i wanna be adored by the stone roses on repeat forever and briefly interrupted sometimes by “My life is more difficult than anyone else’s on the planet, and YES, I’m including starving children so don’t ask.“
his task is still hanging over his head, he can’t be anywhere near the seventh floor corridor even though the vanishing cabinet is no longer there.
he’s very shut down now that he knows he’s in the future and he’s questioning everything, isn’t entirely sure this is actually temporal magic and that it could be some kind of fucked up test whether from the de or the da. either way, he’s not willing to fail.
hes not sleeping or functioning well at all so sometimes he might actually be civil, i know ugh but it also means his temper is far more volatile so y’know. goes both ways.
the burn in your lungs from icy winter air, cashmere and fine wool, the satisfaction when your potions ingredients are perfectly prepared, a look that could kill, a shiver up your spine in a warm room, clenched fists with nails biting into your palm, words like venom, earl grey one sugar.
i promise im more coherent usually i swear but anyway if you want to plot like this or message me honestly i can’t wait to get started guys!!!!!
forget?
he never forgets.
he doesn’t forget the
ghosts in his lungs or
the skeletons in his closet.
he doesn’t forget
when he wakes up screaming
and he never forgets
as he falls to his bloody knees
finished to the bone.
don’t ask him if he forgets
because he never forgets.
he’ll never forget this.
I ruin everything. I think that a bullet must have passed through my heart when I was very young, causing me to bleed out slowly, over things and people and every white surface that I’d ever come across.
