usagidoeswords

Would-be scholar distracted by fanfiction But at least I'm writing https://archiveofourown.org/users/UsagiTatsu (Spoiler: It's Drarry.) “Every time someone steps up and says who they are, the world becomes a better, more interesting place.” 💜

[usagidoeswords]

Microfic May #5

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Prompt: Comings & Goings Word count: 100

Harry’s newest assignment was surveilling an apothecary suspected of dealing in poached wares: anyone entering or leaving the building, how often they came, how long they stayed.

The comings and goings of the neighbouring café were also of interest with one person catching his eye: arriving at the same time, ordering the same thing, leaving with the same elegant wave. Like clockwork.

Observational notes: subject very much not a morning person; creature of habit; well-dressed; talkative; fond of sweets; gorgeous.

Draco Malfoy was all those things and more.

But Harry knew that already.

The man was his husband after all.

[usagidoeswords]

Microfic May #4

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Prompt: Pure & Simple Word count: 100

Everything about Draco’s life was complicated. Since the day he was born, he’d learned a labyrinthine set of rules, along with its multitude of caveats, exceptions, and loopholes: things that one needed to know to survive this murky, confusing world.

So, the first time Harry said, ‘I love you,’ it was only natural for Draco to ask what he meant.

Was it: ‘I love you, if…’; ‘I love you, but’; ‘I love you, so…’?

But Harry shrugged and said, ‘I just do.’

Without conditions or deflections or requirements.

Just: I love you.

Could it really be that pure and simple?

[usagidoeswords]

Microfic May #3

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Prompt: Heaven & Hell Word count: 100 A companion piece to Bits & Pieces

Harry had been here before: a space made of nought but mist that formed itself according to his every whim and thought.

Last time, it had been a crossroads. He couldn’t go back this time, although every fibre of his being wished he could.

From the mist, he envisioned where he wanted to be, and so it was — from the front porch to the four-poster bed — home. Only it wasn’t much of a home without his heart.

But one day his heart would come.

So, he would stay. And wait. Between heaven and hell.

Until they could go on. Together.

[usagidoeswords]

Microfic May #2

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Prompt: Toil & Trouble Word count: 100

‘Not all work is toil, Mr Malfoy.’

That’s what his mind-healer had said.

It was a way to integrate with society. Make connections. Find fulfilment.

Draco didn’t believe her, but he had exceptional N.E.W.T.s and nothing else to do.

Thus he sat, in a draughty, poorly lit classroom in St Mungo’s, surrounded by healers-in-training five years his junior.

The door burst open, and their instructor entered, a flurry of green robes and jet-black hair.

Perhaps work wasn’t toil after all, but Harry’s expression told Draco that it would certainly be trouble.

Good thing Draco liked trouble.

[usagidoeswords]

Microfic May #1

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Prompt: Bits & Pieces Word count: 100

In bits and pieces.

It’s how they’d got to know each other: begrudging small talk at work slowly shifting into easy conversation.

How they’d fallen in love: late nights at the Ministry turning into even later nights in each other’s arms.

And that’s how Harry left him.

In bits and pieces.

Left to pick them up and put them back together.

Bit by bit. Piece by piece.

Because Draco had promised Harry that’s what he’d do.

For him.

For the both of them.

For the day when Draco could tell him everything he did and saw.

In bits and pieces.

[supmilger]

Like sunshine and moonlight

[usagidoeswords]

@drarrymicrofic

Prompt: retrograde Word count: 243*

"We shouldn't be doing this…"

Harry murmured into the sensitive skin above Draco's clavicle.

That was one thing they could agree on.

Draco pulled him closer, working the button of his trousers loose.

"You know where the door is…"

Right behind them, as usual: broom cupboards in the halls of Hogwarts, shower cabins in Quidditch locker rooms, toilet stalls in bars or nightclubs. Tonight? A cloakroom at a Ministry gala.

The way out was always so close, but neither of them ever took it.

What was the harm in one last time?

But every time was the last time. It's what they said. What they meant.

They could go weeks, months — more than a year once — with meaning it, but only if they stayed far away. Away from each other, their lives proceeded as expected. Harry, hero of the wizarding world; Draco, scion of the Malfoy family. Two orbits that had no reason to cross.

But when they did, inexorably pulled back towards each other as they were, all expectations and intentions vanished.

The moment Harry walked through the double-doors of the ballroom and locked eyes with Draco, they'd known where it would lead, the backward slide predictable: awkward avoidance, stiff greetings, polite small talk, a brush of the hand, eyes that said, "I miss you," the world slowly, then rapidly spinning off-kilter.

Bringing them here: entangled with one another amidst a sea of cloaks, wondering if they couldn't just stay in retrograde.

*243 Earth days, approximate sidereal rotational period (day) for Venus, one of two planets in our Solar System with a retrograde rotation

[usagidoeswords]

Happy International Asexuality Day! 🖤🩶🤍💜

Discover the signs of asexuality and learn if you might be asexual or just confused about your sexual attraction. Clarify your feelings with

Snippet from How to Avenge Your Husband

"What do you say we get settled and then do some exploring?" said Draco as he moved to stand, but Harry ever so slightly tightened his grip on Draco's hips.

"Maybe in a minute," he said.

Draco's heart skipped a beat as Harry pulled him into a kiss that sent a pleasant shiver up his spine. There was a particular way that Harry would kiss Draco when he wanted him: softer, slower, and with a shyness to it, like he was worried he was asking for too much. Of course, he never was. It was another thing in Draco's life that was made all the more wonderful for its rarity.

In the early days of their relationship, after the honeymoon phase had faded, Draco noticed that Harry rarely instigated any kind of sexual contact. For weeks, he agonized over whether to bring it up, terrified that Harry had fallen out of love with him, but when they finally talked about it, Draco found out that it was just the way Harry was. Once it was out in the open, they were able to make it work: Draco had never minded asking for what he wanted, and Harry never tired of being told that he was wanted.

But every once in a blue moon, Harry would come to Draco and kiss him like this. It would always be worth the wait until the next blue moon, even if it never came again.

[usagidoeswords]

@drarrymicrofic Prompt: weak Word count: 600

"I am not weak."

Harry muttered to himself as he stood outside the boathouse, skipping stones across the water of the Black Lake. Snape's contemptuous face flashed before his mind. A fresh wave of anger washed over him.

"I am not weak!" He launched a rock as hard as he could, watching it until it landed in the water with a dull splash. "AAARGH!"

Crouching down, Harry buried his face in his hands, trying to calm himself down, but the anger kept bubbling up, unquellable, undammable. It would find its way out one way or another. This would never work. With Snape's constant attacks and insults, how could he even begin to clear his mind? If someone else—

"Why's Professor Snape teaching you Occlumency?"

The familiar, unwelcome voice caused Harry to jump up and back, nearly sending him tumbling into the water.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" growled Harry, in no mood for further taunting.

"An answer to my question, obviously. Don't bother denying it, I overheard everything."

"Piss off!"

"He's not very good at it, is he?"

Harry looked around. Crabbe and Goyle were doubtless lurking nearby.

"You and I are the only ones here, Potter."

"Who's not good at what?"

Draco rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against. "Snape. Teaching you."

"Yeah, well…" Harry walked past Draco, toward the staircase to the castle. "…he's the only option."

A cool, soft hand grabbed him by the wrist.

"I could do it. I'm no master Occlumens, but I know the basics."

"Even if you could, why would I trust you?"

"You trust Snape?"

Hermione's voice, reminding him for the hundredth time that Dumbledore trusts Snape, echoed in Harry's head. "No."

"So, what's the difference? Something in that big, empty head of yours you don't want me to see?"

"Plenty," said Harry, pulling his arm free.

"You could look into mine." His usual drawl was still there, but none of the derision, nor the sneer, that typically accompanied it.

"Like there's something in there that will convince me to trust you?"

"There might be."

"Doubtful…also, don't know Legilimency, so…"

"I could just…show you…"

Is that how it worked? Could you also show people things in your head if you wanted to?

Draco was standing right in front of Harry. The same hand that had been around his wrist, wrapped around the knot of his loosened tie. Grey eyes looked into his, asking a question, and after apparently finding an answer, the distance between them closed.

Everything that had been on Harry's mind over the past months — Snape, Voldemort, Dumbledore, Umbridge, Sirius — promptly fell out of his head. Was this what it felt like to clear one's mind?

When the grip on his tie slackened, Harry looked around again desperately. This must be a joke, a trick.

"You and I are the only ones here, Potter."

The words sounded different this time. Like an invitation.

Maybe Occlumency had truly broken his brain.

Or maybe he'd thought about this a lot, even if he tried not to. Maybe he'd wanted this for a long time, even though he shouldn't.

Harry grabbed Draco by the wrist, led him into the boathouse, then picked him up to press him against the wall. For the first time in forever, there was nothing in his head: nothing except the feeling of legs wrapped around his waist, cold fingers tangled in his hair, soft lips pressed against his.

They paused for breath, and Draco smiled, glancing down at Harry's arms holding him up. "Well, I knew you weren't weak."

[usagidoeswords]

@drarrymicrofic

Prompt: set Word count: 390 (260/130)

sry smth came up

Draco was going to kill Pansy. How could she do this? On his birthday!? She had been talking up a surprise for months, and now, not fifteen minutes before they were due to meet, she cancelled. With a four word text! This deserved a phone call of tearful begging for forgiveness. Forgiveness he would not give.

What a way to turn twenty-five! Alone and abandoned by his (supposed) best friend. Wet, hot tears blurred his vision as he stalked toward the park exit, almost causing him to miss the man in an exquisitely tailored suit sitting on a bench.

"Potter?"

For a moment, he thought fate had dropped a perfectly wrapped gift in his lap, but dressed like that, he was surely here to meet someone.

Harry, who had been frowning at his phone, looked up. "Draco! Hey! Happy Birthday!"

"Not likely. I've been stood up."

"You're joking!" Harry's tone indicated he aptly regarded this as the tragedy it was. "Something must be going around. Hermione's just bailed on me, too. We were supposed to go to some fancy restaurant — said she wanted to check it out before taking Ron. Anyway, she just sent me a weird text saying she couldn't make it anymore. I think she's ill…or working?"

"Where were you going?"

"Ensemble…I think? I'm probably saying it wrong."

He was.

"That's my favourite restaurant."

"Would you like to go? It would be a shame for the reservation to go to waste."

Thank the stars; maybe he'd have a happy birthday after all.

-----

Fine. I found better company anyway. P.S. You're dead to me.

"I'm going to kill him!" said Pansy, furiously typing on her phone.

Hermione snatched it from her hands. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna tell him!"

"You mustn't! You know how stubborn those two are! If they realise it wasn't fate or chance, it will ruin everything."

"Don't care! He's such a smug git, I can't stand it!"

"And I'm going to lose my mind if I have to spend another minute listening to either of them pining after each other. It's been years, Pansy! I know you're tired of it, too!"

"Fine! But when they get married, I'm telling them we set them up in my maid-of-honour speech, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

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@drarrymicrofic

Prompt: lacklustre Words: 300*

What do you do when something has lost its shine? If it were Petunia Dursley's prized set of silverware, she would make Harry polish it for hours until it sparkled. If it were Harry's broomstick, he'd take out his servicing kit and, with a bit of time and care, it would be better than new.

But how do you restore a relationship when it is no longer shiny and new and has gone — what was the word Draco had used? — lacklustre.

"You just don't know when to quit, Potter. That's your problem."

True, he'd held on to his relationship with Ginny far longer than was wise or healthy, but that was because he had been afraid: of failing, of disappointing people, of being alone. It was different this time. This wasn't about fear. Letting go would be a terrible mistake.

Draco's problem was that he'd never learned that things shouldn't be so easily discarded once they'd lost their lustre, that you shouldn't cut and run as soon as things got a bit hard or a little dull, that things that mattered took work.

Falling in love with Draco had been like stepping out of a cave and seeing the sun for the first time. That initial burst of light had been blinding in its brilliance, all-consuming in its intensity. Harry had always known it wouldn't go on like that forever. It couldn't.

Didn't Draco understand? Sunsets are far more beautiful than the midday sun. The waning yet steady warmth of autumn is more bearable than the blaze of summer. Even after the darkest night, the coldest winter, the sun always rises, spring always comes.

If they just stuck it out, gave it the time and care it needed, together they could make this shine even brighter than it did before. *Speed of light: approx. 300 million metres per second.

[devious--muffin]

The Gift of Morale, and a Little Something Extra

A Drarry Fans Discord Drabble Challenge! Prompt: A gift with no tag Required Word Count: 256 Extra Challenge: No dialogue

Harry sighed as he closed the bedroom door. His life was a disaster. With his uncontrollable bouts of anger, Umbridge’s reign of terror, the growing mistrust from his peers, and now Arthur’s attack, he’d never felt more alone.

A sleek, black box in the center of his bed caught his attention, and he approached cautiously. There was no tag, no indication of who’d sent it. Inside was a single vial, whose stopper came away with a brush of his finger, and he gasped as flashes of memories quickly filled the air.

All of them were of himself; glimpses caught when he thought no one was looking, warm gazes as he stumbled through a charm or quietly ate a meal, following him as he headed toward the Quidditch pitch, relieved as he rose from the Black Lake with Ron. There were hundreds, spanning several years, all of them with a veil of affection. They bolstered him, steadied his crumbling self-worth, and set ablaze his curiosity. Who had been watching him, had clearly fancied him for so long?

The final flash before the memories returned to their prison was when he was freshly eleven. His first day in the magical world, his eyes were wide with wonder as he drowned in black robes. He took a sharp breath as he recalled only one other person in Madam Malkin’s that day.

Harry stoppered the vial in a daze, his entire world shifting. He suddenly knew who’d sent the gift, and he had no idea what to do about it.

[usagidoeswords]

Starting Small - December 2025 Drabble

Prompt: A gift with no tag Required Word Count: 256 Added Challenge: No dialogue

On Christmas morning, Draco sat alone in the Great Hall, his eyes fixed on the entrance, mind racing. Had Potter seen the present? Had he opened it? Did he like it?

When Draco had gone Christmas shopping in Hogsmeade, Potter hadn't been on his list, but then, he'd seen it: a delicate bracelet with a miniature, fully functioning Snitch charm. And he'd known: he wanted Harry to have it. 

The two weren't friends. The only time they'd talked since returning to Hogwarts after the war was when Harry had greeted him after the Sorting and thrust something into his hands. By the time Draco realised he was holding his hawthorn wand, Harry had already vanished into the crowd. 

In the following months, Draco found himself watching Harry, hoping an idea of how to thank him would materialise. Nothing ever came, but there were times when Harry caught him looking. Instead of scowling at him and turning away, Harry would wave. 

A gift wasn't enough, but it was a start. He bought the bracelet, imbued the Snitch with a Warming Charm, then bribed a crotchety house-elf to put the unmarked box with the rest of Harry's presents.

The heavy double doors opened. There was a peal of familiar laughter. Harry Potter entered the room along with a host of Gryffindors. He looked over at Draco and waved. Peeking out from the wrist of Harry's woolly jumper, Draco caught a glint of gold and a tiny flutter of wings. 

Draco smiled and mouthed the words — Happy Christmas.