Your Local Hot Mess

I will always have a song of the month. Check August's out!

[thusspoketrish]

Hiya, I'm Trish! Below you'll find a list of my completed Drarry fics + a gist of the story + a handful of tags. All of my stories are postwar, EWE, and rated E or M. I will update this list as I complete more stories! Wooo!!!

MOST RECENT FIC:

Netflix and Chills | E | 20K Halloween might be over, but the tricks, treats, and heat between the sheets are just beginning for our favorite dynamic duo! Humor. Post-Second Wizarding War. EWE. Drarry in the Muggle World. Established Relationship. Snarky Draco Malfoy. Muggle Technology. Slice of Life. Humor. Romance. Domestic Fluff. Pop Culture References. Shenanigans. Halloween Night. Netflix and Chill. Banter. Mystery. Idiots in Love. Light Dom/Sub Elements. Dirty Talk. Blue Ball Hell.

Summary: When Draco innocently asks what "Netflix and Chill" means, Harry simply can't pass up the opportunity to impart some knowledge while demonstrating a masterclass in the art of seduction. Now, if only those plans weren't constantly interrupted by trick-or-treaters—some of them far more trick than treat.

The Art of Getting By | E | 149K Recovery fic set in a psychiatric hospital. Mental health Issues. Trauma/Traumatic Experiences. Heavy Angst. Harry and Draco admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Therapy. Fastburn. Co-dependency. Falling in love. Draco's + Harry's POV. Please read warnings. Dead Dove.

This Year's Love| E | 84K. A Drarry slowburn inspired by When Harry Met Sally! Humor. Light Angst. Draco in the Muggle world. Lovable Disaster!Harry. Enemies to Best Friends. Modern Dating. Layabout!Harry. Medical Student!Draco. Draco Dates Zaddies. Harry Is Living His Best Heaux Life. Sex (or no sex!) Positivity. Idiots In Love. So Much Pining. Harry's POV.

Everything That Happens Is From Now On | E | 42K. A sensitive story that explores the aftermath and recovery from a stranger SA. Established relationship. Secrets. Supportive/Loving Partner. RTS. Living Together. Body Positivity. Enthusiastic Consent. Hope. Draco's POV. Please read warnings.

Lemon Colour, Honey Glow | E | 67K. A love story that takes place over a series of unfortunate nights at the Leaky Cauldron. Enemies to Lovers. Falling in Love. Auror!Harry. Potion Master!Draco. Secret Relationship. Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Possessive Harry. Flangst. Beer Gardens. The Leaky Cauldron. The Slytherin Trio. Bullying/Violence. Spoilers Left Untagged.

Super Rich Kids | E | 81K. True crime meets wild government conspiracies when Draco becomes a twisted sort-of Robin Hood, robbing the badly behaving rich to give to...well...you'll have to read the story to find out! Angst. Murders. Coverups. Enemies to Friends to Lovers. Bisexual Draco. Lush descriptions of glamour. Humor. The ULTIMATE Slytherin ensemble. Mental Health Issues. Drug Usage/Addiction. Pureblood Elitism. Social Season. Angst with a Happy Ending. Draco's POV.

On The Last Day | E | 53K. Draco's role as an Unspeakable, Harry's untimely death and ghostly return, and conspiracies bind them in a quest for truth and redemption. Mystery. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Grief/Mourning. Horror Elements. Science. Neurology/Neuroscience. Slowburn. Memory Loss. Draco's POV.

My Best Friend, the Serial Killer | E | 37K. Ride or Die BFFL Draco finds he's tired of moonlighting as a serial killer's accomplice. No matter how much he loves Pansy, he draws the line at helping her dispose of a sexy, flirty Harry Potter. Dark Humor. Campy/Kitsch Elements. Serial Killer!Pansy. Healer!Draco. Femme Fatale Trope. Falling in Love. Self-Love. Jealousy. Everyone is seriously morally grey. Draco's POV.

A Ferret, a ScarHead, a Weasel, & a Baby | E | 91K. The ultimate bromance takes centre stage (alongside a sweet and tender Drarry romance) in this Three Men & a Baby inspired story! BAMF Auror Draco. Protective Draco. Healer Harry. Capable and Emotionally Intelligent Ron. Illegal Potions Ring. Orphaned Baby. Roommates. Nothing to Something to Everything. Draco's POV.

Seven Days | E | 8K. It takes seven days for the Malfoy-Potter family to unravel. Grief/Mourning. Child Abduction. Death of a Child. Implied Mpreg. Alcohol Relapse. Coming to Terms. Harry's POV. Please Read the Warnings.

Portrait of a Young Girl | M | 8K. Navigating the complexities of love, marriage, and child-rearing, Harry and Draco face a new challenge when they suspect that four-year-old Teddy might be transgender. Married Drarry. Young Couple. Inexperienced Parents. Marital Problems/Disagreements. Stay-at-Home Dad Draco. Fluff. Acceptance. Love. Family. Happy Ending. Harry's POV.

A Day at the Park | M | 6K. Draco discovers that love has its own timing, and sometimes, that means returning to the place where he once lost it all. Estranged couple. Flashbacks. Pining. Postman's Park. Exiled Draco. Draco's POV.

Long for Bliss! | E | 9K. A random night out takes a dark and thrilling turn when Harry, after taking MDMA, encounters Draco Malfoy, looking like something straight out of his wildest dreams – or nightmares. First Time Drug Use. Nightclubs. The Perils of Ennui. Mildly Dubious Consent. Rooftop Sex. Light Dom/Sub Elements. Harry's POV.

Idiot Boys In Love & More | Various Ratings | 18K. Here you'll find a collection of one-shots, drabbles, and poems about Harry and Draco that are all standalone pieces! Each story is centered on a prompt provided by @drarrymicrofic and said prompt will be listed in the summary of each story (Series I completed). Harry + Draco's POV.

[thusspoketrish]

The Art of Living Excerpt (Draco's POV)

“A charming woman answered,” Blaise continues, entirely untroubled by Draco’s expression. He reaches for his espresso and turns the cup idly between his palms. “She said the consignment was expected before noon and that someone could examine the records this afternoon.”

Draco glares at him. “You arranged an appointment?”

Blaise’s brows draw together as though Draco has asked something profoundly stupid. “I expressed serious interest.”

“Under your own name?”

Blaise looks offended. “Of course not.”

Draco waits.

Blaise holds his gaze for several seconds, then looks down at his coffee.

“Blaise.”

“I panicked!”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Draco. “You have never panicked in your life.”

“I once wore navy robes instead of black to a funeral.”

“That was a personal failing.”

Blaise’s mouth tightens gravely. “It continues to haunt me.”

Draco sets his coffee down with more force than necessary. A small wave climbs the inside of the mug and nearly breaches the rim. “What name did you give them?”

Blaise’s eyes drift towards the windows.

“What name?”

“Mr Zabini.”

Draco blinks. “That is your name.”

“One of them.”

“And if Harry sees it written in an appointment book?”

Blaise lifts one shoulder. “Then Potter will learn that I am a thoughtful man attempting to purchase a rare record for my husband’s birthday.”

“While arriving with the former lover he kissed in a lavatory two days ago.”

Blaise grins. “I wasn’t going to mention that part to the woman on the telephone.”

Draco turns away before Blaise can see the heat rising beneath his collar. He reaches for the sugar bowl, lifts its silver lid, and stares into it. “Go alone.”

“I require support.”

Draco replaces the lid. “For purchasing a record?”

“For evaluating authenticity.”

“You learned the band’s name forty-eight hours ago.”

“Which is why I require someone with experience identifying elaborate fraud.”

Draco tuts. “You also spent your childhood among pure-blood aristocrats!”

“My point exactly.” Blaise spreads both hands in a gesture of elegant defeat. “My instincts are exhausted.”

Draco closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. The silence that follows lasts long enough for Blaise’s amusement to ease away. When Draco looks at him again, Blaise has set his espresso aside and placed both palms against the marble. Some of the performance has left his face.

“Draco,” he says, quieter now, “Will’s birthday is approaching. He mentioned one impossible thing without believing anyone would remember, and I have found the only shop in London with a realistic chance of obtaining it.”

Draco glances at the parchment again. “There are hundreds of record shops in London.”

“I telephoned thirty-three.”

Draco’s head lifts. “You did not.”

Blaise’s expression remains composed for half a second longer. “Eleven,” he admits. “Though six of them had offensively poor customer service.”

“You telephoned eleven record shops?”

“One of the men in Soho laughed when I asked about the pressing.” Blaise’s jaw tightens with the memory. “He was extremely condescending.”

“Perhaps because you pronounced Joy Division as though it were Joie de Vésion, you toffy git.”

Blaise shoots him a cool look. “Cauldron. Kettle. Regardless, he won’t be receiving my business.”

Draco looks at the note again.

Sunlight has broken through the clouds for the first time in days, lying in pale rectangles across the kitchen floor. Rainwater still gleams along the garden wall outside, trembling whenever the wind moves through the climbing roses. It's an obscenely pleasant morning, the sort that makes London feel briefly washed clean.

He thinks of Harry standing beneath the gold Needle & Groove sign, one hand resting against Idris’s back. He thinks of the battered sofa, the orange cat, and the upstairs window where two mugs waited beneath the rain. He remembers Harry saying the shop’s name with quiet pride, then looking almost embarrassed by how much it revealed.

Going there would be intrusive. It would also be unbearable. This second thought is less effective as a deterrent than Draco would prefer.

“Go alone,” he repeats, though the words lack some of their earlier conviction.

[ristay]

Sorry if it’s a little cramped- had to make this all fit in ten photos. Hope you guys like it….. and again…. sorry Andrew

Follow me on Webtoons

[ruby-white-rabbit]

The window visual did me in I’m wheezing

[floralpopie]

NO

[greatmountainfloofsquatch]

WELP

[doctor-seamonster]

I haven’t seen this in years and yet it is burned into my memory forever.

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

This is on the short list of Eternal Reblog because it’s fucking legendary.

[magrowette]

An honourable candidate for the @hellsite-hall-of-fame

[mzuul]

Slytherin wins!! 🐍

Alternative version:

[thusspoketrish]

If I knew now What I knew then Just give me more time I hope and pray I mistake all you say The seeds of the dandelion you blow away

[thusspoketrish]

Looking for a VOLUNTEER Alpha/Beta Reader for The Art of Living WIP.

I'm currently working on a sequel to my fic The Art of Getting By. The first story was very heavy with angst. Aiming for this sequel to be much lighter, romantic/falling back in love, with some angsty twists and turns (because I can't help myself, haha).

Looking for: SPAG control and someone to provide feedback on overall vibe, plot, general storytelling. Currently three chapters completed/63 pages into the story, so there's no rush/fast turnaround time. I'm projecting 13 - 15 chapters in total.

If you're interested, please send me a message here, or find me in the large drarry discord under trishjames. I'm not interested in paying money for this help. Though, I can pay in kind words, giving credit where credit is due, virtual hugs, and just so much gratitude! Thanks in advance!

[thusspoketrish]

The Art of Living (Excerpt - Harry's POV)

Sequel to The Art of Getting By.

Chapter Title: Now That You Found It, It’s Gone

Behind them, the liaison, Mr No-One, cleared his throat and glanced towards Waterloo station's clock.

Molly ignored him. “You must eat,” she said. Harry almost laughed.

“Mum,” Ginny murmured.

“I mean it. Proper meals. Not only tea and toast because you can’t be bothered.”

Molly tugged the two sides of Harry’s coat together, fastening each button with trembling fingers. She smoothed the wool over his chest, then adjusted his collar, although it had not been crooked to begin with. Her eyes moved everywhere except his face.

“And you must write,” she continued, her voice tightening. “You needn’t say anything important. Just tell us you arrived. Tell us what the weather is like. Tell us what you had for breakfast.” Her hands lingered at his shoulders, brushing away a piece of lint that was not there. “Arthur and I will be in Berlin to spend the holidays with you, so I expect to see some meat on this frame by then, young man.” The last words wavered despite her attempt at sternness.

“Molly,” Oni said gently, reassuringly, “the clinic will supervise his meals.”

“I know that!” Molly snapped, her hands going still against Harry’s coat.

She seemed to forget what she had been doing. Her fingers remained curled around his lapels, but the irritation drained from her face almost as quickly as it had appeared. She lowered her eyes, smoothing the same patch of wool again and again as though there were something there she could put to right.

“I know,” she repeated, barely above a whisper.

Harry recognised the shape of the argument she was refusing to have. She wanted to feed him because feeding him was something she understood. It was an act she could perform with her own hands. She could not medicate away the damage in his mind. She could not undo the therapy room incident. She could not carry him to Berlin and sit beside his bed until he was himself again.

But she could worry about his breakfast.

“I’ll eat,” Harry said with a nod.

Molly searched his face. “Promise me.”

That was a dangerous word. For months, Harry had made promises as though wanting something badly enough could make it true, and look where it got him. He had promised Draco safety. He had promised Oni he would take his medication. He had promised himself he would never become the thing Draco feared.

Harry shuddered. “I’ll try,” he said, a hint of shame creeping into his voice as he glanced away from her watery blue eyes.

Molly’s expression crumpled as she began to silently cry, but she nodded. “That will do,” she said through a sob.

“Well, this is where we leave you, Mr and Mrs Weasley,” the Ministry liaison said, ushering the others towards the terminal.

Harry stepped back from Molly and Arthur. The cold rushed immediately into the space where they had been. 

He turned to follow Oni, but the station seemed to swell around him as soon as he crossed through the doors. Announcements echoed beneath the vaulted roof. Suitcase wheels clattered across the floor. A child cried beside the ticket machines while his father struggled to fold a pushchair with one hand. The smell of coffee, rain, and damp wool hung heavily in the air.

Harry’s heart began to race.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, but it did nothing to stop them from trembling. Each step carried him farther from Molly, and suddenly all he could think was how long it would be before someone held him like that again—not delicately, or because they were assessing him, or with one hand poised near a wand or a sedative syringe.

How many days would pass before he felt Molly’s arms around him again? Before he could breathe in lavender and honey and the kitchen at the Burrow? Before anyone touched him without remembering what his hands had done? Christmas was weeks away. Berlin was hundreds of miles from home.

His breathing caught.

He stopped.

The crowd divided around him, shoulders brushing past as strangers continued towards trains, platforms, ordinary lives. Oni turned at the change in his footsteps, but Harry was already looking back.

Molly stood where he had left her, one hand pressed to her mouth. Arthur’s arm was around her shoulders.

“Mum!”

The word tore out of him in a pained whimper.

Molly moved before anyone else could react. She hurried towards him, nearly colliding with a man dragging two suitcases, and Harry stumbled the last few steps forward to meet her. This time, when her arms closed around him, he didn’t stiffen this time. He collapsed.

A sob broke from somewhere deep inside him, and Harry buried his face against her shoulder as his knees threatened to give way. His hands clutched desperately at the back of her coat. Molly tightened her hold, one palm cradling the back of his head as she rocked him where they stood.

“I’m sorry,” Harry gasped. “I’m so, so sorry!”

“I know.”

“I’ve ruined everything,” he sobbed.

“No, darling.”

“I hurt him, Mum! I hurt everyone.”

Molly held him tighter.

Harry wept against her, without restraint or dignity, his body shaking so violently that she had to brace one foot behind her to hold him upright. Around them, the station continued moving. Announcements sounded. Trains arrived. People stared and then looked away.

Molly paid none of it any attention. “You listen to me, Harry,” she whispered fiercely into his hair. “A mother does not love only the parts of her child that are easy to hold.” His fingers tightened in her coat. “You never have to earn your way back into my arms, do you understand?” she continued, her own voice breaking. “You are my son when you are brave, and you are my son when you are frightened. You are my son when you make us proud, and you are still my son when you have done something terrible and must learn how to live with it.”

Harry made a wounded sound.

Molly drew back, tugging him down just enough to press her forehead against his.

“I can’t undo what happened,” she said. “I can’t make the road ahead of you shorter. But there is nowhere you can go, and nothing you can confess, that will make me stop coming when you call for me.”

Harry closed his eyes. For one more moment, she held him as though he were small enough to carry home. But she couldn’t.

No one could carry him through what came next. And though the thought still frightened him, he understood now that he would not have to walk towards nothing. His Mum would be there at the end of it, waiting for him to come home.

All Harry had to do was take the next step.

[praenomer]

[itsphantasmagoria]

Harry in Draco Vision™️

From my fic Live Laugh Love, Draco Malfoy (read it here)

I have BL brainrot, I'm not sorry

[coppercatbird]

(In)decent

@drarrymicrofic | prompt: modesty | wc: 400

The first time, Harry thinks it’s political glad-handing as Malfoy chats to the Undersecretary of Some Boring Thing Harry Can’t Remember at a Ministry banquet.

“You’ve done well for yourself, Malfoy.”

“Well, I try.”

—

The second time, Harry’s certain Malfoy is trying to curry favour—when had he ever been so demure about his academic pursuits?

“Thank you, William, but I think I can do better. I have much to learn.”

—

The third time, Harry’s absolutely positive that Malfoy’s fucking with him.

“Oh, come on,” Harry groans after the diagnostic charm fails for the fourth time in a row.

“You could ask for help,” Malfoy says, not looking up.

“Know anything about diagnostic charms?” Harry asks, sarcastic. They both know Malfoy’s better at charms.

Malfoy removes his goggles with a pensive expression. “I’ve been known to dabble. Show me what you’re doing.”

—

By the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth times, Harry’s committed to tripping Malfoy up.

“Hey, you’re good at potions, right?”

“I have a few skills, yes; what do you need?”

—

“Would you say you’re a well dressed bloke?”

“I suppose I have some sartorial charms, if one cares for such things. You clearly don’t.”

—

“Headache, Potter?”

“Yeah—d’you brew a decent cup of tea?”

“Passable, so I’m told.”

(It was perfect, the tosser.)

—

By the twentieth time, Harry’s at the end of his patience.

“Malfoy, you still play quidditch?”

“… I do.”

“Any good?”

“Well … probably not as good as you.”

Harry makes an aggravated sound. “What is up with you?”

Malfoy raises one perfectly manicured brow. “I beg your pardon?”

“This fucking humility thing!”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Malfoy looks unimpressed.

Harry folds his arms. “You any good at arithmancy?”

“I can muddle through.”

“Board games?”

Malfoy flares his nostrils. “Terrible, as you well know. And a sore loser.”

“Cooking?”

“Capable, what is your point?”

“Playing the piano.”

“Intermediate at best.”

Harry has an idea. It’s perfect. He smiles, sharp and cutting; the little wrinkle in Malfoy’s brow deepens. “How are you in bed?”

Malfoy’s mouth falls open. For a long moment, he stares, his cheeks going pink. Then, he smiles, devious, and steps forwards. Leans in close.

“Why don’t I show you?”

—

“Oh my God,” Harry gasps as he rolls over, chest heaving and glistening with sweat. “Oh my God.”

“To answer your question,” Draco says, running his hands through Harry’s hair, “I’m exceptional in bed.”

[r0siedays]

🤎🍂cozy days are coming🍂🤎

[hd-fan-fair]

H/D Travel Fair 2026 Sign Ups & Prompt Claims

>> Check Out Prompts to Claim Here! >> Sign Up as an Artist or Writer Here >> Sign Up as a Podficcer Here Reminders:

Each prompt can be claimed once for art and once for fic. You may also claim both art and fic together.

Currently all prompts are marked with “Available for Art & Fic”. They will be changed to “Available for Art”, “Available for Fic”, or “Not Available” under Prompt Availability accordingly.

You may claim your own prompt - we’ll hold those prompts marked as “self-claimed” during prompting for a couple of days.

All prompts can be sorted or filtered by travel theme and other information.

If you claim a prompt, please watch this comm, Tumblr, or our DW comm for updates on the H/D Fan Fair. Or join our discord here!

How prompt claiming is going to work:

If your first choice is still available, it's yours! If your first choice has already been claimed, you will receive your second choice, and so on. It is perfectly fine to list only one choice!

The mods will email you to confirm your claim as soon as we can. We will also update the table to indicate which prompts have been claimed for art, fic, or both.

[thusspoketrish]

The Art of Living Excerpt (WIP)

Sequel to the Art of Getting By.

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Tags: Post-War. EWE. Past Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy. Mental Health Recovery. Trauma Recovery. Hurt/Comfort. Healing. Romance. Courting. Hope. Friendship. Second Chances. Slowest of Slow Burns. Berlin. London. Tuscany. Running. Marathons. Yoga. Art Therapist Draco Malfoy. Falling Back in Love. Draco Gets a Hug. Harry Gets a Hug. Harry’s POV. Draco’s POV. Angst with a Happy Ending.

Summary: Two and a half years after loving each other nearly destroyed them, Harry and Draco have learned how to survive apart.

When their paths cross again, feeling that immediate connection once more, they must decide whether to risk everything they have rebuilt for a second chance.

---------------------

A woman with purple hair walks directly into Harry while staring at her mobile. “Oops,” she mutters without looking up.

Harry stumbles towards the kerb, and Draco’s hand moves before conscious thought can intervene, catching him firmly by the elbow. Harry’s skin is warm and damp beneath his fingers, and the contact sends a jolt through Draco’s arm, too immediate and familiar. He releases him quickly, but his attention has already dropped to the butterfly resting just above Harry’s left hip.

Draco goes still.

It's a blue morpho. He knows the species at once, having drawn its broad wings and iridescent scales hundreds of times, but this one is unfinished. One wing blooms across Harry’s skin in saturated shades of blue, every vein and delicate marking rendered in intricate detail, while the other dissolves midway into faint black lines and untouched skin. It should look incomplete. Instead, it appears suspended between sketch and flight, as though still in the process of becoming itself.

Something about the design catches at the back of Draco’s mind. The elaborate patterning inside the completed wing, the narrow curls worked between its veins, even the peculiar angle of its body all feel intimately familiar, not merely similar to his work but somehow shaped by his hand. But Draco cannot remember ever drawing this particular unfinished morpho for Harry, and the harder he reaches for some explanation of how Harry came to know its precise design, the further the connection retreats.

“Harry,” he says, unable to pull his gaze away. “Is that a blue morpho?”

Harry follows his stare and immediately stiffens. “Oh. Er, yeah. About that.”

Draco steps half a pace closer before remembering himself. “Why is it unfinished?”

“I got it in Berlin,” Harry explains, rubbing the back of his neck as his words begin tumbling over one another. “The artist took the piss at first because I was very particular about the design. Said most people don’t ask him to leave half their tattoo unfinished. But that was the point.”

“The point?” Draco asks, still perplexed.

Harry’s hand hovers near the butterfly without touching it. “It reminded me of you. The morpho did, I mean. But it wasn’t only about freedom or changing into someone better. I used to think recovery meant I would eventually become finished. That one day everything wrong with me would be corrected, and then I could start living.” He gives a small, self-conscious shrug. “Berlin taught me that wasn’t how it worked. I could still be healing and have a life. I didn’t have to wait until every part of me was fixed.”

Draco looks again at the half-rendered wing. The bare skin between its unfinished lines no longer resembles an absence. It's possibility deliberately left open.

“And the pattern inside the wing?” he asks, unable to silence the question.

Harry’s fingers close briefly around the shirt tied at his waist. “I had a design I wanted him to follow.”

There's something carefully incomplete about the answer. Draco studies Harry’s face and then the butterfly again. Those curling lines belong somewhere in his memory. He knows they do. The recognition nags at him, persistent as an unfinished thought, but Harry’s nervous expression stops him from pressing.

“And er, I chose the spot because…” Harry begins, then falters.

Draco knows why.

His gaze falls involuntarily to Harry’s hip again. At this distance, he can see where the unfinished lines taper over the sharp bone, frighteningly close to the place Draco had once pressed his lips while Harry lay beneath him, flushed and trembling.

The memory returns in a hot, vivid rush. His fingertips dragging slowly down Harry’s ribs. The muscles of Harry’s stomach tightening beneath his touch. Harry’s hand winding into Draco’s hair as Draco kissed the ridge of his hip, then dipped lower before returning to torment that same sensitive patch of skin. Harry had arched beneath him, thighs tightening around Draco’s shoulders, his glasses abandoned somewhere beside the bed and his lips parted around Draco’s name as though pleasure had stripped it down to prayer.

Heat surges through Draco with such humiliating force that he has to drag his attention back to the ink, swallowing against the sudden dryness in his throat. “It looks good,” he says, though the words are woefully insufficient.

Harry lowers his eyes, his earlier confidence disappearing. “It made me happy,” he says after a moment. “It reminded me of your talent. Your compassion. How badly you wanted to be free and find peace.” His fingertips hover near the unfinished wing once more. “But it also belongs to that time, and I don’t want to pretend none of it happened. I don’t want the worst of it to erase everything that was good, or the good to excuse what went wrong.”

Draco stares at him. Once, Harry had treated memory like a weapon. He had clung to the good until it justified ignoring the harm, and then allowed the harm to poison everything that had been real between them. Now he speaks as though both truths can exist together.

Draco doesn't yet know whether the tattoo’s permanence frightens or touches him. Perhaps it does both. “I read your letter,” he says.

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up March 2026 (ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

Date Blindness by dysonrules @dysonrules

Harry was perfectly happy with his life until Hermione decided to set him up on a blind date. Rec Post

A Ferret, a ScarHead, a Weasel, and a Baby by trishjames @thusspoketrish

They say becoming a parent is an unparalleled, priceless joy. Draco Malfoy finds himself putting that theory to the test when the star witness in his dangerous illegal potions case entrusts him with a powerful wish: protect her newborn baby at all costs. Now, it’s up to Draco to fulfill that wish despite the looming threat of criminals hunting for the child. To think, just the day before, he was fretting over his inappropriate feelings for his annoying, bespectacled git of a housemate—not the mechanics of changing nappies! Thank Merlin it takes a village to raise a sack of flour…child. Rec Post

Harry Potter and the Black King by Phoenixstrike

 Harry has arrived safely at The Burrow, but when a worrisome dream becomes a vision of Voldemort, he decides to act. Little does he know how much his decision will affect the outcome of the war. With new allies in addition to old, can Harry finally vanquish the Dark Lord once and for all? Rec Post

First Impressions by ActuallyMoon @actuallymoon

At the Shacklebolts’ ball, Ginny found herself irrevocably smitten at first sight with Ms Pansy Parkinson. Meanwhile, her brother, Harry Potter, became the unfortunate target of biting remarks from Parkinson’s haughty and aloof best friend, Mr Draco Malfoy. Harry’s disdain for Mr Malfoy grew, fuelled by the latter’s evident arrogance.

Amidst this burgeoning animosity, Ms Romilda Vane began to spread malicious rumours regarding Malfoy, further tarnishing his reputation. Yet, the true nature of his character was far from what these tales suggested. Could Draco overcome his pride and Harry his prejudice, allowing love to blossom between them despite the odds? Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well! (੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆

Baby Carrot by Jelliebabie @jelliewrites

Draco Malfoy has a secret. Harry Potter has a not-so-secret, long-term crush on Draco Malfoy. In fact, Harry would do just about anything to get with Draco, but Draco seems intent on avoiding him. This just leaves Harry even more determined to find out what the big secret is. Or maybe it isn't so big after all…

Cherry by ItsPhantasmagoria @itsphantasmagoria

On the 5th of June 2010, Draco is a thirty year old virgin. This complicates things.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[upthehillart]

A beautiful scene for @thusspoketrish from her fic This Year’s Love ♥

[thusspoketrish]

My Best Friend, the Serial Killer.

[thusspoketrish]

honestly, the whole fic is brat.

[fictional]

❤️/🔪

Draco loved the smell of Muggle bleach.

It perfectly masked the smell of blood, and sometimes piss, that were the consequences of Pansy’s breakups. He loved the ritual of slipping on a thick, plastic disposable apron, surgical face mask, shoe covers, and rubber elbow-length gloves before gathering all the materials needed from their storage closet to make Pansy’s ex-boyfriends disappear.

❤️/🔪/❤️/🔪/❤️

Harry placed a hand on Draco’s knee and squeezed. “I’ll let you ogle me…if you kiss me,” Harry said with the lopsided smile that Draco adored.

Draco curled his fingers over Harry’s hand on his knee and looked up at him. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr Potter, but I think I can meet those terms.” Draco nearly spilled himself into Harry’s lap and tilted his chin up, a teasing smile on his lips as his breath came out in short puffs against Harry’s lips. His smile widened when he felt Harry tighten his fingers around Draco’s hand. He pressed soft, gentle kisses to the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Is this what you want?” Draco breathed.

“More,” Harry growled.

❤️/🔪/❤️/🔪/❤️

Draco waved at the food. “Bon appétit.”

Silver and porcelain clinked together as dish plates were passed around and glasses of wine and water were refilled. As they ate and drank, the atmosphere in the room became loose and merry.

Until it wasn’t again.

Laughing, Derrick choked on his sip of wine at a joke Pansy told about their employer. “Our district manager is a beast, I swear,” he said. “Such a ghastly woman.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Of course she is. She’s from Shoreditch.”

Hermione cleared her throat. “What, exactly, does that have to do with anything?”

Pansy wrinkled her nose. “It’s a shit area? A shit area for a shit person.”

“Because it’s a poor area that’s being heavily gentrified?” Hermione asked in a tight voice.

Pansy picked up her glass of wine in a leisurely manner and fixed Hermione with a bored look. “What the hell does gentrified mean?”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times as she squinted at Pansy. Draco found Derrick staring at him, his mouth in a small “o”-shape. Draco bared his clenched teeth and raised both brows in secondhand embarrassment.

@thusspoketrish was kind enough to commission (three pieces!!!!! of) art from me for her amazing Cluefest fic, My Best Friend, the Serial Killer ! I had so much fun drawing these, I hope it shows! ❤️

Pay heed to the tags, but if you can handle it, it's such a fun read. & I promise it's Drarry with a happy ending haha

Thank you again, Trish!! You're an amazing writer and I'm so happy you like how they came out!!

[thusspoketrish]

I’m literally blown away by these pieces!!!! I’m screaming, really, y’all just don’t KNOW! @fictional recreated three amazing scenes from my fic in such a glorious way, I’m SHOOK. Thank you for your brilliant work, ❤️❤️❤️.