Do you have any Draco x Y/N fics (preferably series) you could recommend? High Up is so amazing but I need something to fill my time while I wait for new parts !
Since before I started posting in January I hadn't been reading fanfic on Tumblr for a bit so these recs might be kind of old.
@drawlfoy is someone I follow. I haven't read their long series yet, but I remember really enjoying their writing overall.
I remember really loving Healing Heart by @adorerdraco it's super cute
I also follow @letssingintherain and jealous Draco always got me some type of way.
@writing-red has an arranged marriage series, but I haven't read it yet (will be doing so after I post this but I'm down bad for the arranged marriage trope)
@missdawnandherdusk has a series called Dandelion which I also haven't read, but the summary has me hype (Hufflepuff reader)
If anyone else has some recs drop them in the comments or send me an ask! I would love some myself.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I cannot be bothered to format on Tumblr in 2024.
She was just so good. Offering to help the tieflings. Saving the girl who stole the idol. Saving the other child from the harpies. Even saving a godsdamned goblin.
She lied to do it. Put on a different face in every interaction, skillfully manipulating everyone in their path. She assured everyone she was genuine, but Astarion did not trust it. Did not trust her.
Yet, she offers him some of the best weapons and armor they scrounge up. She keeps him at her side every day.
It’s maddening.
And it doesn’t help his bloodlust.
I have not played DnD. I have only played Balder’s Gate up to Act 3. I’m just really down-bad for every stinking character in this game. This was written no beta at 2am. Excuse the quality.
“So, darling, how does an noble elf become a traveling bard?” Astarion asked, the same mocking glint alight in his eyes as always.
Lyriel rolled her eyes.
“In just as dramatic as a fashion as we received these worms,” she replied, curt, her attention on the task before her: search the bodies of the fallen gnolls for any supplies.
She had always skillfully avoided delving into her past, while picking relentless at the threads of his. Its was maddening.
“Oh, a delicious secret, is it?” He purred, sidling closer to her on the path.
“No, no blood involved. That’s your definition of delicious, right?”
A sharp bark of laughter escaped him. For all that Lyriel mocked his vampirism, she had let him feed the night before.
He could see the twin marks on her neck.
The taste of her blood. Sweet. Intoxicating. Warm.
He had almost drowned it.
He would have killed her if not for how she pushed him off.
Astarion had stumbled through approximation of gratitude and left her by the fire.
The boar he found later felt like ash in his mouth.
Morning came, along with a lot of sharp looks tossed his way, but no one approached. They all waited for some signal from their unspoken leader, the elfen bard turned one time vampire snack, to speak.
The cleric had healed her, whispering furiously about how stupid the bard was to let him feed.
Lyriel had waved it off.
“I will just pay special attention for some lesser restoration scrolls. I will not ask this of you again, Shadowheart.”
Astarion’s eyebrow rose, but he kept his eyes on the book in front of him. He knew the so-called Blade of Frontiers and Wizard of Waterdeep watched his every move.
“Again?!” Shadowheart cried. “You cannot be serious.”
Lyriel let out a loud sigh.
“I’ve not yet decided. He said he would be more powerful with it. Let’s see if he was telling the truth.”
Shadowheart said nothing. Astarion waited, if he could breathe, he’d be holding his breath.
“Look, it’ll be okay. You healed me, no harm done.”
“Astarion?” Lyriel asked, blue eyes tracing his face.
He feared what she could find. Whether it was the worm or just something about her, she read him too easily.
Damn her. His mind had wandered too easily. He was losing the advantage.
“Yes, darling?” He said.
“Where did you go?”
“Oh just remembering last night.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, when you tried to kill me?”
Astarion gasped, bringing a hand to his heart. “I would never try to kill you.”
“Liar.” She replied, but with no malice, almost… affectionate?
“Honest, you just tasted so rich.”
She looked off to the side of the road. Shadowheart and Lae’zel trades vague insults and threats as they worked their way through some of the abandoned carts in search of food.
Astarion had assumed, wrongly it now seemed, she was an easy target.
A sheltered little elf, rebelling against some trivial thing or another, on a temporary stint as a bard. But, he didn’t even know her age, much less how long she had been separated from her people. He didn’t know the first thing about her, only what clues he draw out of her actions and dress. And those could only reveal so much from a practice performer as she revealed herself to be with every confrontation skillfully avoided with half-truths and sweet smiles.
“What makes you say I’m a noblewomen? Maybe you’re just…” She turned to look at him, giving him a once-over that felt more like a studied assessment than anything lustful. “Uncouth.”
Astarion’s jaw dropped. Him? Uncouth?
Lyriel laughed, the sound light and amused.
A joke then. He could comeback from his stumble, his distraction caused by the two almost proudly displayed marks.
Lyriel always wore her hair in a ponytail. And despite the obvious place of the bite, she continued to wear it. Her sun-kissed blonde hair, pulled back completely, to reveal her pointed ears and truly astounding amount of golden earrings, cuffs, and piercings.
“It might have something to do with the small fortune you wear.” He replied, sitting down on the crate she had just closed.
“Or maybe I’m just an incredibly successful bard.”
“A successful bard? I’d sooner believe the gith and the cleric could fall in love.”
She snorted. She responded better to jokes than flat out seduction. Astarion hadn’t relied on his wit much in the last two hundred years, his looks and charm making his… assignments laughably simple.
But Lyriel, she was different, she was clearly attracted to him, but she never let it sway her decisions.
He couldn’t say that he had manipulated her to donating her blood. She seemed to easily give it up along with her trust.
“Letting a vampire snack on you? Speaks of the naivety of a high-born.”
“Or maybe I didn’t want you to suffer?”
Astarion tilted his head. He had done nothing to deserve this consideration. A trick of some sort, surely.
Yet, she had defended him from the rest of their group. Insisting that she trusted him, in harsh light of the day, the truth plain to see.
“You can’t be more than sixty and a high-born elf.”
“If I tell you, will you stop asking questions?”
“Will you?”
She pursed her lips. Glossy and pink. Honestly, how did the others not see it? The high cheekbones, clear-blue eyes, the perfect skin save for a smattering of freckles that screamed sun elf. The rings and necklaces and earrings that dripped down her neck and caressed her fingers. One ring displaying a sigil he remembers from before, though what House it represents was lost to his not-so reliable memory.
“Fine. Yes. I’m a high-born. Was a high-born.”
He quirked his eyebrow. The correction spoke of a fresh wound. The few elven nobles left were cloistered away in the Upper City or in small fiefdoms in the woods. Astarion had easily avoided them, not wishing to be reminded of who he once was, besides Cazador preferred his food much younger than your average elf.
“A recent falling out?”
She sighed.
“No. I left some three hundred years ago.”
“You what?” Shadowheart gasped, suddenly at her side.
Even Lae’zel looked shocked.
“I am four hundred and seventy,” Lyriel said.
And here Astarion thought he was after a girl a fraction of his age.
“The Elven nobles are not the same as what you know a noble to be. Our history is fraught with conflict with the drow, with each other. My family’s house, somehow survived it all. We’ve—they’ve had a tenuous hold on their wealth and power, often only scraping by through marriages. While most elves have scattered to their own adventures, spending our long lives under the sun or the moon as we see fit, I had the misfortune of being destined for marriage.”
Lyriel shrugged. “So I left. I was the only child my parents bore. I know not why. Maybe in these three hundred years they had another. There is no way of knowing. I cut all ties to them. To that facsimile of a world where they hoped to restore the old Elven court.”
“So you left because you might have gotten married to someone?” Astarion pushed.
Lyriel’s face twisted.
“I was married. By all rights I still am.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Shadowheart asked.
Lyriel and the half-elf were close. It bordered on romantic, but Astarion could see that both women held back from the other. And they knew it.
If Astarion was capable of sympathy he might have left Lyriel to pine in peace, but he wasn’t. He had a plan after all.
One that looked more and more complicated by the day.
Lyriel’s face tightened, not meeting anyones gaze.
“I escaped. Let’s leave it at that.” She said, standing up and dusting her clothes off. “Let’s go. I only have so many more pockets left before we need to head back to the druids to trade.”
Violence: A Writer’s Guide: This is not about writing technique. It is an introduction to the world of violence. To the parts that people don’t understand. The parts that books and movies get wrong. Not just the mechanics, but how people who live in a violent world think and feel about what they do and what they see done.
Hurting Your Characters: HURTING YOUR CHARACTERS discusses the immediate effect of trauma on the body, its physiologic response, including the types of nerve fibers and the sensations they convey, and how injuries feel to the character. This book also presents a simplified overview of the expected recovery times for the injuries discussed in young, otherwise healthy individuals.
Body Trauma: A writer’s guide to wounds and injuries. Body Trauma explains what happens to body organs and bones maimed by accident or intent and the small window of opportunity for emergency treatment. Research what happens in a hospital operating room and the personnel who initiate treatment. Use these facts to bring added realism to your stories and novels.
10 B.S. Medical Tropes that Need to Die TODAY…and What to Do Instead: Written by a paramedic and writer with a decade of experience, 10 BS Medical Tropes covers exactly that: clichéd and inaccurate tropes that not only ruin books, they have the potential to hurt real people in the real world.
Maim Your Characters: How Injuries Work in Fiction: Increase Realism. Raise the Stakes. Tell Better Stories. Maim Your Characters is the definitive guide to using wounds and injuries to their greatest effect in your story. Learn not only the six critical parts of an injury plot, but more importantly, how to make sure that the injury you’re inflicting matters.
Blood on the Page: This handy resource is a must-have guide for writers whose characters live on the edge of danger. If you like easy-to-follow tools, expert opinions from someone with firsthand knowledge, and you don’t mind a bit of fictional bodily harm, then you’ll love Samantha Keel’s invaluable handbook
Hello everyone and welcome to this grand event, Draco December! The event's main objective is to bring back the hype for Draco again, and I would gladly do this by posting blurbs, headcanons, fics and imagines all through December!
Also, this event is also a celebration for remaining 600 followers, thank you so much to each and every one of you for liking, reblogging and commenting on my fics even when I am not active here, it really makes me happy to open tumblr and see your engagement in my work and makes me want to write more for all of you!
Without wasting any more time, let this event get started!
The plan for December is given below-
1st December- Imagine getting a Christmas Surprise from Draco
6th December- Memories (Blurb)
9th December- Cooking Christmas cookies with Draco (headcanons)
14th December- Christmas Magic (Fic)
17th December- Getting a Dog on Christmas with Draco (headcanons)
22nd December- Too good to be true (Blurb)
25th December- Secrets can't be hidden for long (Fic)
26th December- Driving to the Countryside with Draco (headcanons)
30th December- Imagine reminiscing all that you once felt for Draco
I will be adding the links of my works here once uploaded on the day.
Note- my works will be uploaded in IST (Indian standard time)
Sorry guys! This is going to be third person with an OC. I cannot bring myself to use Y/N or write in second person anymore. I understand if this turns people off of the story, but it will be easier for me. Especially to make the romance more specific. Thank you for your understanding.
The heir apparent lives through his rumours like a myth. At the Malfoy ball, a handsome stranger seems like the perfect person to voice these rumours to. And yet, why does he look so amused?
“I understood my mistake too late. There were no sons that dripped in such confidence, except for the son to the crown.”
Writing this was like breathing in the air after summer’s rain - I just love royal AUs.
My weight leant against the thick, white pillar, every couples’ turn on the dance floor making my eyes dizzy. A faint dance of my own tingled up my spine, the fizzy champagne slowly drifting through my system. The candlelights sparkled against polished marble, glinting off of silk, jewels, crowns.
The Malfoy family had hosted a ball, and of course only the most prestigious could attend. To be here was like flashing your title to the commoners who weren’t, a boast of social status. And yet, within, the competition was even worse; who had the dress of richer colour, who adorned the most lavish jewellery, who carried the best partner on their arm.
Fortunately, I wasn’t invited to such an atrocity. Unfortunately, all staff of the castle had to be involved in some way or other - whether that was replenishing the hors d’oeuvres, painfully stretching a smile at guests by the entrance, or attending to their majesties when they called - it was a call of duty. And I knew which duty I’d rather fulfil; the guests weren’t here to eat, they were here to mingle, to show off. That meant no one noticed if the person restocking the refreshments was simultaneously the one depleting the stores.
It was just as I snuck a small cake of strawberry and pistachio off of the tray that he appeared; a stranger, warm by my side.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, my lady, but that isn’t boredom I sense, is it?”
I looked up, unimpressed at the interruption between me and my dessert, and noticed it was a man. A rather handsome man.
And now I was slightly impressed.
I clasped my hands together at the front of my dress, the small cake hidden between my palms. “I’m afraid I would have to correct you, good sir. Who would dare sit in boredom at the Malfoy ball, the one that’s hosted per half-annum? Certainly not me.”
I subtly raked my eyes down his figure. Blonde hair was neatly brushed back, though half drifted near his eyes. The latter gazed around the scene with a calm content, like the gardens’ pond that settled in ice every winter. His attire was clearly costly, the colours darker, richer than any simple dye could create. His fingers lightly wrapped around a glass of something dark and coppery, and he spoke with such a smooth voice that I almost wished he’d speak again.
His lips gave a small smirk in response.
As the stranger leant against the wall lazily, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket, I guessed he must’ve been the son of a Lord. Perhaps a Duke.
“We shouldn’t blame the ball. Rather, we should be blaming your lack of partner. Now, what kind of noble gentleman would leave a lady such as yourself unattended to?”
I could’ve scoffed, but he was the type of person who was attractive enough to use preposterous words like noble and unattended to describe people and get away with it. Instead, I smiled up at his charming, smirking face, and naturally moved closer, despite the fact that maids didn’t get the privilege to even consider involvement with higher rankings. And yet - he didn’t know I was a maid, and so I indulged myself in boyish charm a little further.
“I’ll tell you what kind of noble gentleman,” I started, whispering as if the music might carry my words into the ear of the nearest busybody. “The Crown Prince.”
His eyes flashed in a notion of surprise, and then his briefly eyebrows raised in a motion to continue. “Here I am, a lady such as myself, unattended to. And, contrary to conventional wisdom, the prince has not yet invited me to dance. How strange.”
I smiled again, playing with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
He paused for a moment, his eyes drifting down my face as if searching for something. I considered if he was either considering how to agree with a beautiful lady without being treacherous against the crown, or just as dim witted as rumoured of the prince himself.
“Strange indeed.” His voice was like air, perfectly smooth as if he’d had lessons on how to talk - which, he probably had. The dancers twirled once more on the floor, dresses like silk around the couples. He then bent at the waist slowly, his head coming to the side of mine as we both kept our eyes on the scene. I felt the champagne work it’s magic down my spine. “Tell me, what else is the conventional wisdom on this prince?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to stop myself from noting his scent in my mind.
I fought against a humoured laugh - the way he referred to the Malfoy heir as ‘this prince’ made it seem like he’d never heard of him. Either this man was from some land under a rock, or he was just pretending to not know him. Both were strange.
Despite that, he had obviously not caught onto the fact that I’m not a guest, rather a member of staff, and I was glad to keep up the facade for as long as his warm, tall figure stayed this close, and his scent lingered around me like another intoxicant.
“They say he’s over his head with his title. I’ve heard he has three servants to test each meal for poison, twice.” I glimpsed to the side to see he was listening to my words with a small smile playing on his mouth. He must’ve enjoyed listening to girls downgrade other guys. An ego thing, I suppose. “The girls say that the prince plays with courtesans like toys. He disregards his father’s law and takes any and every woman to his bed - and some whisper that it’s more than one at a time!”
He lowly chuckled, and I swear he took another step closer. I loved the sound. I loved the confidence leaking from his very fingertips. I loved pretending I wasn’t a maid, while committing borderline treason to a stranger.
He nodded encouragingly, a smirk still playing on those lips.
My memory ran in wisps before my eyes, and I remembered not one encounter I had with the prince himself. “The staff members all say he’s so hotheaded that he doesn’t ever show himself before them. As if w - as if they aren’t deserving enough to see him.”
He hummed in bare amusement. I noticed a long finger tap against his glass. The ring he wore made a little clink as he did so, almost to the lulling beat of the classical music drifting from the orchestra.
I tilted my head closer, both of our eyes still looking to the dances but focused on each other. “You know, they say he’s as arrogant as his father.”
He suddenly bellowed a laughed, his head thrown back in amusement. When he opened his eyes and looked at me, a glint sparkled within them - either a playful reflection of the candlelight, or something else.
“I must say, the rumours are very creative.” He put his glass down and forgot about it, a newfound, childish joy hidden in his features. “Do you know the heir’s name, my lady?”
I felt a tingle of excitement every-time he called me by that ridiculous title, a rebellious streak that I couldn’t seem to wipe away. “Of course, who doesn’t? Although, it is strange that most can’t put a face to name.”
His eyebrow cocked up and he stayed quiet, waiting for my elaboration.
“Draco Malfoy. The crown prince is named Draco Malfoy.”
The man suddenly took a step in front of me, blocking the scene of the dancers. I glanced around what I could see of the hall behind his figure, suddenly worried about this proximity and suggestive position we’d found ourselves in.
His expensive shoes took another step, and I had to take a step back. My back met a cold wall of marble. His presence demanded my attention, and a sweet sense of danger echoed in my head. I was playing with fire.
His hand leaned against the wall behind me, his head slowly lowering ever so slightly. I was risking my head by allowing this. Every second, I took a risk closer to death.
But as his heavenly scent danced around my mind, I couldn’t imagine a better risk. A more tempting death. Champagne wafted alongside his aroma, heat blooming across my cheeks.
He suddenly dropped to a whisper, his voice deep and secretive. “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself yet, my lady.”
I fought against the lump in my throat, trying to swallow but feeling that my mouth was dry. I defied the way he made me feel, and tried to logically think for the first time in about half an hour.
This could be someone who reports me to the prince himself. Or the king. I’m sure either wouldn’t mind using me as an example to put an end to such defaming rumours.
Dread bubbles in my chest, alongside adrenaline.
His eyes dipped, down to my still clasped hands. He lifted both gently with one hand, and then plucked the forgotten small cake as if a petal from a flower. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but think that it looked ten times more delicious between his fingers.
He admired the cake mockingly, that damn smile still evident with mischief, eyes still shining like diamonds. Eyes that moved to mine, and stared.
“I’m Draco Malfoy, the heir apparent to the Malfoy crown.”
He raised his hand, and took a slow bite. Pastry delicately crunched, and I felt my stomach drop. My hands turned numb. I stared at the cake that left his lips, all thoughts gone with the wind.
The stranger - the prince - brought the other half to my lips. I felt the soft dessert edging against my mouth, and I was half aware of my obeisance as he slipped the remnants onto my tongue.
Sweet cream melted on my tongue, bitter fear froze after it. He took his eyes away from my lips, and looked at me with a glazed over expression. An apology started to form in my throat, the urge to bow down creeping up my back.
And then he spoke.
“And you must be one of the maidens to my crown. I must admit, I didn’t think they came this beautiful.”
My lips parted, just as a messy strand of hair drifted in front of his eyes. I itched to brush it away, and I felt my finger twitch. I understood now. I couldn’t believe I’d been so foolish. There were no sons that dripped in such confidence, except for the son to the crown.
It was like the prince had the power to read my mind. The corner of his lip lifted, and Draco Malfoy grinned at his maid. “Do you know what you’re guilty of, lady?”
I found the ability to gulp now. I didn’t realise the sounds of the ball were muted until he chuckled, and it was suddenly the only sound I could hear. And then came the heavy booming of my pulse in my ears as he dipped his head further, his lips brought to the side of my ear in a painfully slow manner. His words were the melody replacing the music, my thrumming heart the beat to it.
I felt hot air dance against the curve of my ear as he whispered, “treason.”
I had a mental breakdown and decided I'm going back and editing High Up Chapters 1-25. Archive of Our Own will house this edited version. I will be replacing the chapters already there with the edited ones. Chapters 1-25 on Tumblr will stay the same though.
AO3 Link Here
Chapters 1-3 are already up and edited (and each about 800 words longer whoops lol).
I don't have a confirmed schedule, but I hope to have it done in the next two weeks or so.
hi i just wanted to stop in and say i hope youre doing well!! i know you mentioned the semester coming to and end soon so i hope everything is going good :) <3
Unfortunately, with the end of the spring semester comes the start of the summer semester. I did a 3-week intensive during May that took a lot more of my attention than I thought it would. Now I have a 5-week course and 3 weeks in a study abroad. After all that I will be done and have my degree though! So yay.
I loved the new chapter as always and i dont mean to annoying but i found a few mistakes:
“I’m so that you’re going to be supervising a bunch of eleven- and twelve-year olds.”
"you just get shite sleep"
"“Step one is probably not being a wat veteran at age nineteen,” you chirped."
Summary: You, Harry, and Draco chaperone your students on your outing into the Muggle World.
Word Count: 2.1k
Rating: Teen (others M)
Add yourself to the taglist for updates here
The first day of classes arrived sooner than you wanted it to. You had spent most of the weekend back finalizing the field trip, barely having any time to see anyone outside of meals.
You got back nearly every single permission slip, much to your surprise. You would have expected more parents to object to interacting with Muggles, but maybe the war had changed things. Or, more realistically, you had your expectations for wizard tolerance much lower than it should be.
“How does this work, exactly?” Draco asked, falling onto the couch next to you.
“First years, Saturday morning. Second years, Saturday evening. Third years, Sunday morning. Fourth years, Sunday, evening. Rinse and repeat for the fifth to the eighth years,” you replied, passing a copy of the timetables at Draco.
“You’re insane,” Ron said.
“Took ya five months to realize that?” You quipped.
Ron snorted.
“Has Potter seen this?” Draco asked, passing the sheets back to you.
“Yeah. Those are yours,” you said, pushing them back into Draco’s hands.
Draco nodded and you stood.
“I’m off to bed. I’ll you bright and early tomorrow morning,” you said, winking at Draco.
Draco rolled his eyes and you grinned, before bouncing off to the stairs.
You woke the following morning to the harsh sound of your alarm.
“Merlin, why did I ever agree to get up this early on a Saturday?” Harry groaned.
“I’m just so irresistible,” you joked, rolling out of bed.
Harry flicked you off and you pelted him with one of your pillows with an indignant cry.
“Let’s go before Draco converts them into his minions.”
Harry grumbled and you threw another pillow.
You pulled on your cloak over jeans, a white cable-knit sweater, and warm boots. A hat and a pair of gloves got shoved into your cloak pocket. Draco’s pendant got nestled safely under your sweater’s neckline, you didn’t go anywhere without it.
Harry, though still not fully awake, sat on the end of his bed dressed and blinking at the harsh winter sunlight glinting through the window.
“You look like a zombie,” you chirped, slinging your Ravenclaw scarf around your neck/
“You look like a…” Harry trailed off and you laughed.
“Come on, Boy Who Used to Live.”
You turned to grab your bag and a pillow hit you square in the back.
“Oi!” You whipped around and Harry was sitting on the bed with a blank look on his face. You narrowed your eyes and Harry’s lip twitched.
“I’m so that you’re going to be supervising a bunch of eleven- and twelve-year olds.”
Harry gave a lopsided grin and you snorted.
You and Harry met Draco down at the Great Hall where the first years would be gathering in a few minutes.
“Good morning,” you greeted.
“Morning,” Draco returned, pushing off the wall he had been leaning on.
“I’m going to the kitchens. Can you two wait here in case any arrive early?” You asked, rifling through your bag for the attendance sheet.
You passed the sheet and a pen to Draco. He looked at the pen in confusion for a moment before Harry rolled his eyes and took it.
You eyed the two of them as Harry uncapped the pen and passed it back to Draco. You would have expected tensions to be higher, but they almost seemed more at ease with each other than ever.
“Be right back.”
You darted off to the kitchens. The hustle and bustle of the house elves preparing breakfast greeted you the second you pushed the painting open.
“Miss (Y/L/N)!” Winky cried, carrying a basket as big as himself.
“Winky, good morning,” you greeted with a smile.
“I have everything you asked for,” Winky said, attempting to hoist the basket to display it to you.
“Thank you so much, Winky,” you replied, taking the basket from him and setting it on an unused table.
“It’s no trouble.”
You smiled, but you felt a pang of sadness. Winky and Dobby had been freed, more or less, but there was little even they could do to convince their fellow House Elves to take the clothing you had offered them countless times.
“Here, this is for you,” you said, pulling a pair of bright yellow socks out of your bag and a sack of Galleons.
“I cannot accept, missus,” Winky said, shifting from foot to foot.
“Yes, you can,” you said, placing them on the table next to the basket. “I asked you to do extra work and I would feel bad if I didn’t pay you for it.”
Winky nodded and you gave him another smile.
“I’ll return this tonight, promise.”
You left the kitchens, seeing Winky fingering the soft material of the yellow socks before the door swung closed.
When you returned to Harry and Draco you found most of the students had arrived and were nearly bouncing off the walls in their excitement.
“They look calm,” you said, sliding next to Draco to peer over his shoulder at the attendance sheet.
“Calm like pixies,” Draco replied dryly.
You snorted, before fitting Winky’s basket into your charmed bag.
Eventually all the students arrived, and you took the attendance sheet to look over it one more time: 36 students.
“Okay guys, listen up,” you called, stuffing the sheet into your bag. “We’re going to be travelling by portkey to London. Once we’re there we will explore before going to a movie. You must stick with your teacher at all times.”
The kids nodded and you quickly divided them into groups before leading them out into the cool winter morning.
The portkey travel, though not smooth, went off without a hitch; Harry brought his group after yours and Draco came last.
You landed deep in a park where no muggles could accidentally stumble upon the portkey.
You led the group out of the park before beginning your expedition. Harry and Draco followed along, keeping their kids in line, but otherwise they somehow managed to keep an unobtrusive presence.
You stalled in front of a candy shop and looked at the first years. It took them a minute to tear their eyes away from everything happening around them, but once they did you saw pleading eyes and a few bounce on the tips of their toes in excitement.
“You can each get one treat,” you instructed. “If you run, shout, or otherwise disrupt other people in the store you will have to stand out here with Harry until everyone is done.”
They nodded solemnly, though the spark of excitement never faded from their eyes.
You pushed the door open and grabbed one of the shopping baskets by the door.
You waited by the checkout for kids to come drop their selected candy into the basket before heading back out to wait with Harry. Draco milled around the store, equally as interested as some of the students.
“Draco,” you murmured when he was perusing a shelf by you.
“Yes?” He replied distractedly.
“You can get something if you want.”
Draco hummed and moved away.
Draco deposited his selection moments later and you smiled at the Kinder Egg sitting in the basket.
“Can you go swap with Harry?” You asked.
Draco nodded and you turned your attention back to the last few kids inside the store.
You paid the bemused middle-aged man running the cash register before going out to the sidewalk to the excited kids.
“Okay, we’re going to go eat in that park before the movie,” you said gesturing to the park across the street.
Spread out across the grass you distributed Winky’s snacks and the candy to the kids before plopping down on the bench where Draco and Harry sat.
“Ready to do this seven more times?” You asked, passing Draco his Kinder Egg.
“Oh, don’t remind me,” Harry groaned.
“It is not as bad as I thought it would be,” Draco commented, slowly peeling the wrapping off the candy.
You smiled at Draco, and he gave you a small smile in return.
“It’s still going to be a long weekend,” Harry said, leaning back into the bench.
You hummed your assent and set about finishing your snack.
At eleven-thirty the kids cleaned up and you made your way down the block to the theatre while you set the expectations for how the kids should act inside.
Purchasing the tickets and getting the kids past the concession stand took a few minutes and got some strange looks from others in the theatre.
You led the kids into the theatre showing A Bug’s Life, putting Harry at the end of one row, Draco at the end of the other, and seating yourself at the end of the final row.
You stifled a giggle at the “oohs” and “aahs” that escaped some the kids during the ads, glad for the mostly empty theatre.
The movie passed without incident and the kids bounded out of the theatre with a million and one questions, even from the kids used to the muggle world.
You did your best to answer them while guiding them back to the portkey. A few whines and complaints when they realized where they were, but you could see their energy lagging anyways.
With the first years deposited back on the school grounds you repeated the same outing with the second years, though less interested in the movie the second time around.
It was nine before you collapsed back onto the couch in the eighth year common room.
“We have to do that again tomorrow?” Harry asked from his similarly splayed out position on another couch.
“And the next weekend,” you replied, stretching your arms above your head.
“Fuck, (Y/N), why?”
“Just to torture you specifically, of course.”
Draco cleared his throat, and you rolled your eyes but lifted your feet anyways. Draco slid into the open spot, and you held back the urge to drop them into his lap.
“It wasn’t that bad, you just get shite sleep,” Draco said to Harry.
“That might be true, but how did those little buggers have that much energy?”
“Step one is probably not being a wat veteran at age nineteen,” you chirped.
“Step two is being twelve?” He asked.
“Yep,” you said, popping the p.
Draco grinned, shaking his head. He brought a hand up to your ankle and rubbed soothing circles on the exposed skin. You hummed and settled back into the couch.
“At least the fifth years and above will be a little more responsible,” you said, yawning.
“I wouldn’t place money on that,” Draco said.
“How come?”
“You never know.”
You gave a half-hearted shrug; you had faith that they would be more mature than a bunch of pre-pubescent teens.
And you were right, the fifth, sixth, and seventh years were well-behaved to the point where it seemed unnecessary for Harry and Draco to be there. Even the eighth years seemed fine until you got to the theatre.
Harry had migrated to Ron and Hermione’s group, but you didn’t mind. The issue lie that you sat to the right of Draco and Pansy sat to his left.
“Dray,” Pansy cooed, during the ads.
“Parkinson,” Draco returned coolly, “Don’t call me that.”
Pansy pouted, sticking out her lower lip and making you want to gag.
“Draco,” she tried again.
“Professor Malfoy,” Draco stressed.
“Oh, is that how it is?” Pansy said, dropping her voice to a sultry tone.
Draco grit his teeth and you grappled with what you should do. You nudged Draco’s elbow with yours and he glanced at you. You tilted your head and Draco shook his in response. You sighed and settled back into your seat.
“Professor,” she drawled.
“Parkinson, I thought your parents had trained you better than to keeping talking when no one wants to hear it,” Draco hissed.
She fell silent and you stifled your chuckle.
An hour into the movie you felt Draco tense in his seat.
You looked at him with concern, but he was staring straight ahead.
“Draco?” You whispered.
Draco relaxed at your voice before tensing again.
“Pansy,” he warned.
You blinked and leaned around him. She was oblivious to your gaze, eyes on the movie as she trailed her fingers down Draco’s arm.
“Miss Parkinson,” you commanded.
Pansy jumped and you held back a grin at her reaction.
“This is edging into sexual harassment, and I will have to escort you back to Hogwarts if it continues.”
Pansy gave you a dirty look that you ignored, and you saw the tension in Draco’s shoulders release with your words. You wonder how often he just lets her do these things out of fear of retribution.
You sat back into your seat and made to move your arm off the armrest to give Draco some much needed space, but lightning fast, he grabbed your wrist and gave it a squeeze.
You smiled and flipped your hand, so it was palm up. After a moment, Draco slid his fingers between yours.
Summary: You, Harry, and Draco chaperone your students on your outing into the Muggle World.
Word Count: 2.1k
Rating: Teen (others M)
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The first day of classes arrived sooner than you wanted it to. You had spent most of the weekend back finalizing the field trip, barely having any time to see anyone outside of meals.
You got back nearly every single permission slip, much to your surprise. You would have expected more parents to object to interacting with Muggles, but maybe the war had changed things. Or, more realistically, you had your expectations for wizard tolerance much lower than it should be.
“How does this work, exactly?” Draco asked, falling onto the couch next to you.
“First years, Saturday morning. Second years, Saturday evening. Third years, Sunday morning. Fourth years, Sunday evening. Rinse and repeat for the fifth to the eighth years,” you replied, passing a copy of the timetables at Draco.
“You’re insane,” Ron said.
“Took ya five months to realize that?” You quipped.
Ron snorted.
“Has Potter seen this?” Draco asked, passing the sheets back to you.
“Yeah. Those are yours,” you said, pushing them back into Draco’s hands.
Draco nodded and you stood.
“I’m off to bed. I’ll you bright and early tomorrow morning,” you said, winking at Draco.
Draco rolled his eyes and you grinned, before bouncing off to the stairs.
You woke the following morning to the harsh sound of your alarm.
“Merlin, why did I ever agree to get up this early on a Saturday?” Harry groaned.
“I’m just so irresistible,” you joked, rolling out of bed.
Harry flicked you off and you pelted him with one of your pillows with an indignant cry.
“Let’s go before Draco converts them into his minions.”
Harry grumbled and you threw another pillow.
You pulled on your cloak over jeans, a white cable-knit sweater, and warm boots. A hat and a pair of gloves got shoved into your cloak pocket. Draco’s pendant got nestled safely under your sweater’s neckline, you didn’t go anywhere without it.
Harry, though still not fully awake, sat on the end of his bed dressed and blinking at the harsh winter sunlight glinting through the window.
“You look like a zombie,” you chirped, slinging your Ravenclaw scarf around your neck.
“You look like a…” Harry trailed off and you laughed.
“Come on, Boy Who Used to Live.”
You turned to grab your bag and a pillow hit you square in the back.
“Oi!” You whipped around and Harry was sitting on the bed with a blank look on his face. You narrowed your eyes and Harry’s lip twitched.
“I’m so glad that you’re going to be supervising a bunch of eleven- and twelve-year-olds.”
Harry gave a lopsided grin and you snorted.
You and Harry met Draco down at the Great Hall where the first years would be gathering in a few minutes.
“Good morning,” you greeted.
“Morning,” Draco returned, pushing off the wall he had been leaning on.
“I’m going to the kitchens. Can you two wait here in case any arrive early?” You asked, rifling through your bag for the attendance sheet.
You passed the sheet and a pen to Draco. He looked at the pen in confusion for a moment before Harry rolled his eyes and took it.
You eyed the two of them as Harry uncapped the pen and passed it back to Draco. You would have expected tensions to be higher, but they almost seemed more at ease with each other than ever.
“Be right back.”
You darted off to the kitchens. The hustle and bustle of the house elves preparing breakfast greeted you the second you pushed the painting open.
“Miss (Y/L/N)!” Winky cried, carrying a basket as big as himself.
“Winky, good morning,” you greeted with a smile.
“I have everything you asked for,” Winky said, attempting to hoist the basket to display it to you.
“Thank you so much, Winky,” you replied, taking the basket from him and setting it on an unused table.
“It’s no trouble.”
You smiled, but you felt a pang of sadness. Winky and Dobby had been freed, more or less, but there was little even they could do to convince their fellow House Elves to take the clothing you had offered them countless times.
“Here, this is for you,” you said, pulling a pair of bright yellow socks out of your bag and a sack of Galleons.
“I cannot accept, missus,” Winky said, shifting from foot to foot.
“Yes, you can,” you said, placing them on the table next to the basket. “I asked you to do extra work and I would feel bad if I didn’t pay you for it.”
Winky nodded and you gave him another smile.
“I’ll return this tonight, promise.”
You left the kitchens, seeing Winky fingering the soft material of the yellow socks before the door swung closed.
When you returned to Harry and Draco you found most of the students had arrived and were nearly bouncing off the walls in their excitement.
“They look calm,” you said, sliding next to Draco to peer over his shoulder at the attendance sheet.
“Calm like pixies,” Draco replied dryly.
You snorted, before fitting Winky’s basket into your charmed bag.
Eventually, all the students arrived, and you took the attendance sheet to look over it one more time: 36 students.
“Okay guys, listen up,” you called, stuffing the sheet into your bag. “We’re going to be traveling by portkey to London. Once we’re there we will explore before going to a movie. You must stick with your teacher at all times.”
The kids nodded and you quickly divided them into groups before leading them out into the cool winter morning.
The portkey travel, though not smooth, went off without a hitch; Harry brought his group after yours and Draco came last.
You landed deep in a park where no muggles could accidentally stumble upon the portkey.
You led the group out of the park before beginning your expedition. Harry and Draco followed along, keeping their kids in line, but otherwise, they somehow managed to keep an unobtrusive presence.
You stalled in front of a candy shop and looked at the first years. It took them a minute to tear their eyes away from everything happening around them, but once they did you saw pleading eyes and a few bounce on the tips of their toes in excitement.
“You can each get one treat,” you instructed. “If you run, shout, or otherwise disrupt other people in the store you will have to stand out here with Harry until everyone is done.”
They nodded solemnly, though the spark of excitement never faded from their eyes.
You pushed the door open and grabbed one of the shopping baskets by the door.
You waited by the checkout for kids to come drop their selected candy into the basket before heading back out to wait with Harry. Draco milled around the store, equally as interested as some of the students.
“Draco,” you murmured when he was perusing a shelf by you.
“Yes?” He replied distractedly.
“You can get something if you want.”
Draco hummed and moved away.
Draco deposited his selection moments later and you smiled at the Kinder Egg sitting in the basket.
“Can you go swap with Harry?” You asked.
Draco nodded and you turned your attention back to the last few kids inside the store.
You paid the bemused middle-aged man running the cash register before going out to the sidewalk to the excited kids.
“Okay, we’re going to go eat in that park before the movie,” you said gesturing to the park across the street.
Spread out across the grass you distributed Winky’s snacks and the candy to the kids before plopping down on the bench where Draco and Harry sat.
“Ready to do this seven more times?” You asked, passing Draco his Kinder Egg.
“Oh, don’t remind me,” Harry groaned.
“It is not as bad as I thought it would be,” Draco commented, slowly peeling the wrapping off the candy.
You smiled at Draco, and he gave you a small smile in return.
“It’s still going to be a long weekend,” Harry said, leaning back into the bench.
You hummed your assent and set about finishing your snack.
At eleven-thirty the kids cleaned up and you made your way down the block to the theatre while you set the expectations for how the kids should act inside.
Purchasing the tickets and getting the kids past the concession stand took a few minutes and got some strange looks from others in the theatre.
You led the kids into the theatre showing A Bug’s Life, putting Harry at the end of one row, Draco at the end of the other, and seating yourself at the end of the final row.
You stifled a giggle at the “oohs” and “aahs” that escaped some of the kids during the ads, glad for the mostly empty theatre.
The movie passed without incident and the kids bounded out of the theatre with a million and one questions, even from the kids used to the muggle world.
You did your best to answer them while guiding them back to the portkey. A few whines and complaints when they realized where they were, but you could see their energy lagging anyways.
With the first years deposited back on the school grounds, you repeated the same outing with the second years, though less interested in the movie the second time around.
It was nine before you collapsed back onto the couch in the eighth year common room.
“We have to do that again tomorrow?” Harry asked from his similarly splayed-out position on another couch.
“And the next weekend,” you replied, stretching your arms above your head.
“Fuck, (Y/N), why?”
“Just to torture you specifically, of course.”
Draco cleared his throat, and you rolled your eyes but lifted your feet anyways. Draco slid into the open spot, and you held back the urge to drop them into his lap.
“It wasn’t that bad, you just get shite sleep,” Draco said to Harry.
“That might be true, but how did those little buggers have that much energy?”
“Step one is probably not being a war veteran at age nineteen,” you chirped.
“Step two is being twelve?” He asked.
“Yep,” you said, popping the p.
Draco grinned, shaking his head. He brought a hand up to your ankle and rubbed soothing circles on the exposed skin. You hummed and settled back into the couch.
“At least the fifth years and above will be a little more responsible,” you said, yawning.
“I wouldn’t place money on that,” Draco said.
“How come?”
“You never know.”
You gave a half-hearted shrug; you had faith that they would be more mature than a bunch of pre-pubescent teens.
And you were right, the fifth, sixth, and seventh years were well-behaved to the point where it seemed unnecessary for Harry and Draco to be there. Even the eighth years seemed fine until you got to the theatre.
Harry had migrated to Ron and Hermione’s group, but you didn’t mind. The issue lay in the fact that you sat to the right of Draco and Pansy sat to his left.
“Dray,” Pansy cooed during the ads.
“Parkinson,” Draco returned coolly, “Don’t call me that.”
Pansy pouted, sticking out her lower lip and making you want to gag.
“Draco,” she tried again.
“Professor Malfoy,” Draco stressed.
“Oh, is that how it is?” Pansy said, dropping her voice to a sultry tone.
Draco grit his teeth and you grappled with what you should do. You nudged Draco’s elbow with yours and he glanced at you. You tilted your head and Draco shook his in response. You sighed and settled back into your seat.
“Professor,” she drawled.
“Parkinson, I thought your parents had trained you better than to keep talking when no one wants to hear it,” Draco hissed.
She fell silent and you stifled your chuckle.
An hour into the movie you felt Draco tense in his seat.
You looked at him with concern, but he was staring straight ahead.
“Draco?” You whispered.
Draco relaxed at your voice before tensing again.
“Pansy,” he warned.
You blinked and leaned around him. She was oblivious to your gaze, eyes on the movie as she trailed her fingers down Draco’s arm.
“Miss Parkinson,” you commanded.
Pansy jumped and you held back a grin at her reaction.
“This is edging into sexual harassment, and I will have to escort you back to Hogwarts if it continues.”
Pansy gave you a dirty look that you ignored, and you saw the tension in Draco’s shoulders release with your words. You wonder how often he just lets her do these things out of fear of retribution.
You sat back into your seat and made to move your arm off the armrest to give Draco some much-needed space, but lightning-fast, he grabbed your wrist and squeezed it.
You smiled and flipped your hand, so it was palm up. After a moment, Draco slid his fingers between yours.
It was just finals week at my university and then I got COVID. I am doing okay, but I will be isolated until the 12th. I hope to get a lot of High Up done. I love that story, but I have a serious craving to write for Tom Holland Peter Parker. I will be putting Harry Potter on the back burner after I finish High Up (including the Harry x Y/N x Draco AU).
Also High Up has been cross-posted on Archive of Our Own if people would like to read it there. Everything is the same, but the formatting and going from chapter to chapter are easier than they are on Tumblr.
Hope you guys are healthy and having a good end of the school year if you're in school.
Summary: You arrive back at Hogwarts and talk to Draco and Harry about the future.
Word Count: 3.6k
Rating: Teen (other parts M)
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“We’re going to go see Ginny and Luna,” Hermione whispered, glancing at (Y/N)’s sleeping form.
Sometime in the second hour of the trip (Y/N) had gone from quietly listening to music to sleeping. Blaise had suggested several creative ways to wake her up, but Hermione had stopped him from following through on any.
Harry nodded and waved them off, content to stay in the cabin regardless of the two Slytherins occupying it.
(Y/N) shifted and her head dropped onto Harry’s shoulder. Harry stiffened, gaze shooting to look down at the top of her head.
Blaise snorted and stood, pulling the door open with enough force to cause the slam to reverberate in the small cabin.
“Fuck you, Blaise,” (Y/N) mumbled, barely awake.
“You wish, Sleeping Beauty,” Blaise replied.
She grunted something and leaned further into Harry. Harry made a confused noise, but (Y/N) was fast asleep again.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you didn’t like her,” Malfoy said, closing his book.
Harry’s gaze shot up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Why would you say that?” Harry asked voice low to keep from waking her.
“She fell asleep on you, and you look disgusted.”
“Disgusted?”
Malfoy shrugged.
“I’m not disgusted. Just surprised.”
“You share a room I’m sure you’ve seen her sleep before.”
Harry looked away. He’d seen her sleep in his arms, though he doubted Malfoy would want to hear that.
“So, what’s the issue?” Malfoy pressed.
“What do you think the issue is?” Harry countered.
“Me.”
Harry said nothing and Malfoy sighed.
“Skeeter isn’t helping,” Harry attempted to joke.
“Only herself.”
Harry sighed, scrubbing his free hand through his hair. He had no desire to talk to Malfoy about (Y/N). Though they weren’t at each other’s throats anymore fighting over (Y/N) could send them right back to their rivalry. He didn't want that and he knew Malfoy didn't either.
If Harry was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t know what to say if Malfoy did try to talk about it. He got along with (Y/N) better than anyone else. Ron and Hermione were his best friends and they had gone through so much together, but they would always think of him as their friend comma The Boy Who Lived. He didn’t mind it most of the time, but (Y/N) appeared to be making an effort to pretend like he wasn’t the savior of the Wizarding World. Very few people had tried to treat him normally, and even less had been successful.
She never pressed him for stories about what had happened. Her expectant looks were few and far between. She had never treated him as The Boy Who Lived but as Harry Potter.
She was thoughtful, intelligent, witty, and kind.
Beautiful too.
Obstinate and opinionated.
Malfoy sighed and opened his book again. He clearly didn’t want to have that conversation with Harry either.
Harry turned his gaze to the window, letting his thoughts wander while (Y/N) slept soundly against him.
Hermione and Ron slipped back into the cabin sometime later. Hermione shot Harry a questioning look at (Y/N) sleeping on his arm. Harry only shook his head in response.
The door rolled shut and the loud noise had her turning away from Harry. She shifted and then leaned against Draco. Draco for his part looked unperturbed, continuing to read his book, only moving so she could rest more comfortably against him.
Ron started to laugh, and Hermione elbowed him causing him to choke.
You were awoken by someone gently smoothing their hand over your hair.
“(Y/N), you need to wake up now,” Draco whispered.
You grumbled and pressed your face further into the soft fabric. You inhaled, smelling something woodsy and fresh. Draco.
Your eyes shot open.
The cabin was empty save the two of you. You cleared your throat and picked your head up.
“Finally awake,” Draco said, a grin on his face.
“You could have woken me up sooner,” you said, running your fingers over your hair in a poor attempt to tame it.
Draco shrugged.
“Was I sleeping on you the whole time?”
Draco shook his head and you sighed in relief.
“Harry too”
You blinked and Draco’s grin widened. You looked around, but Harry was nowhere to be found and you grimaced.
“It made him uncomfortable?”
“They’re just all changing.”
“Oh.”
You looked outside. Darkness had fallen already so you couldn’t make out any landmarks.
“I should go change too,” you said, standing up. You picked up Athena’s cage and she cooed. You rubbed her chin before setting the cage down in your seat.
“Should be there in twenty minutes or so,” Draco said.
You nodded and stretched your arms over your head. You groaned the feeling, your muscles stretching just shy of painfully.
You rotated your neck, your gaze falling on Draco as he watched you. You blushed, realizing you had been standing in front of him, groaning while your stretch revealed your bare stomach.
“I’ll be right back,” you said quickly, snatching your purse.
You were gone before Draco could respond, his mind still stuck on the image of you, arms stretched above your head, eyes closed, a groan slipping past your lips.
You slipped inside the bathroom, locking the door before closing the blinds.
Your headphones were still hanging around your neck, so you pulled them off and set them on the small counter.
Because of your position as the temporary Muggle Studies professor, your parents had bought you some more professional and mature outfits. Cleverly they had only purchased muggle clothing which you found infinitely amusing. They had nothing against wizarding clothes, but you knew that they had intentionally chosen things that were unmistakably “muggle.”
You pulled out black slacks, a Ravenclaw blue blouse, and a black blazer. Patent leather flats and the cloak that Narcissa had sent you completed your outfit. The cloak was short and had openings for your arms, much more functional than any other you had owned.
You fixed your hair as best as you could and applied some light makeup. As much as you had avoided makeup, simply because you didn’t want to take the time to learn it, you had changed your tune after your mother had spent the last few days of the holidays teaching you how to use it. Some concealer, mascara, eyeliner, and a light lipstick were all you needed or wanted.
You exited the bathroom and made your way back to the cabin, nervous at how you were going to stand out amongst the others.
Hermione and Ron were back, dressed in the typically uniform. Blaise had also reappeared, though his tie was just draped around his neck and he was lazily munching on some candy from the trolley.
Harry though. He looked completely different. Gone were the trainers and poorly fitting standard clothes. The collar of a white button-down poked over the neckline of a red sweater, with white pants and brown boots.
“Who dressed you?” You joked when you opened the door.
Harry looked up, eyes widening when he saw you.
“I did,” Hermione said, brushing past Harry’s lack of response.
“You did a great job.”
“Thank you. You look nice too.”
You smiled and grabbed Athena’s cage, putting her on the seat next to you.
“Muggle clothing, eh?” Blaise asked.
“Muggle Studies professor,” you replied, shrugging.
“Fair enough.”
You snorted, “I’m so glad you approve.”
“If something has Blaise’s approval you should do the opposite of whatever that is,” Draco said from the doorway.
You laughed while Blaise pouted, though he didn’t argue against it.
Draco looked shockingly casual. That’s not to say he was wearing joggers and a t-shirt, but he had spent the majority of last semester in formal potions robes. Now he wore a button-down, his Slytherin tie, a green button-up sweater, and slacks.
“Did the three of you plan to look like professors at a muggle university or was this just an accident?” Blaise asked, amusement in his eyes.
“Happy accident,” you replied, pulling Athena into your lap.
The train ground to a stop. The six of you maneuvered your trunks down and made your way off of the train.
Students flooded the platform with first years collecting near Hagrid. You looked around and realized there was snow covering the trees and path to the thestrals. You murmured a spell to keep your shoes dry and a warming charm.
“Come on, before we have to fight for a carriage,” you called, striding ahead with your wand pointed to your trunk and broom floating next to you and Athena’s cage in your free hand.
The group followed you, other students falling in behind and ahead of you.
You arrived at a clearing where the carriages always waited, and you gasped.
“Strange looking, aren’t they?” Harry said from your right.
You nodded. You had completely forgotten that the carriages were pulled by thestrals. You had never seen them before but after the Battle of Hogwarts… You couldn’t imagine there were many at Hogwarts who couldn’t see them now.
You sat your luggage in the back and put Athena on one of the benches in the carriage.
You slipped around to the side of the thestral, your hands twitching at your side as you fought the urge to touch it. If you had learned anything from the stories told about Draco and Buckbeak back in third year, approaching magical animals was dangerous if you didn’t know how to.
The thestral’s milky white eyes blinked and it tilted its head towards you.
You hummed and reached your hand out slowly. Apparently too slow for the thestral for it bumped its head into your hand.
You laughed and stroked it. Its skin was leathery and strange, but not unpleasant.
“Hey there,” you cooed.
“They’re quite friendly,” Luna said from behind you.
You jumped and the thestral chuffed.
“You scared me, Luna,” you said, your hand on your heart.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).”
“It’s okay.”
“You couldn’t see them before, had you?”
You shook your head. “Could you?”
“Yes. I saw my mother die.”
You choked, your head swiveling to Luna’s. You had talked to her about her mother before, but you didn’t know that Luna had been there when she died.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to know.”
“Lou!” Ginny called from somewhere behind the two of you.
You grinned at Luna, and she blushed.
“I think your girlfriend is missing you,” you said with a teasing lilt in your voice.
“I think so,” Luna said with a smile.
“Go on. I’ll see you later.”
“(Y/N), careful of the Wrackspurts. They won’t help you come to a decision any easier.”
“Decision?”
Luna smiled and her gaze trailed over to Draco who was putting his luggage in the back.
“There’s no perfect choice. Remember that.”
You nodded. Luna’s advice, though often vague, was more helpful than most. Her sincerity and honesty made it easy to listen.
The ride back to the castle was pleasant. Athena was getting more and more anxious to get out of her cage so when the carriage came to a stop you were the first out.
“Stay safe, Athena,” you cautioned, opening her cage.
Athena hopped out into the snow. She looked up at you expectantly and you rolled your eyes.
“Greedy girl,” you chided, rubbing her head before she took off to hunt.
You saw a few house elves popping in and out as they transported students’ luggage to their dorms.
“It’s hard to see, isn’t it?” Hermione asked.
“It is. It’s harder still to understand how so many are okay with it,” you replied. “Never thought ‘slavery bad’ would be a controversial statement.”
Hermione sighed, “Supposedly they don’t want to be free.”
You raised your eyebrows. You had heard that before, but you had never known a house-elf personally and the ones at Hogwarts seemed inclined to avoid people to the point of being unseen.
“That sounds like bullshit.”
“It does. But there’s never been any legislative efforts to end it because of that. I almost wonder if they’re all spelled.”
“What? At birth?”
Hermione shrugged. It wasn’t the most out-there claim, but it would certainly require a lot of effort to keep an entire race of people under control like that.
“The conditions of their bondage are magically based. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that wizard magic, not elf magic is behind it. No one else keeps house-elves except wizards.”
You nodded. “Do you think you’ll keep fighting for their release?”
Hermione sighed, “I want to, but they always tell me not to. During fourth year they were so insulted that they stopped cleaning the Gryffindor common room.”
“Come on you two. I don’t want to be late,” Ron shouted.
You shook your head but followed after the four men that had already started on the path through the courtyard.
“I’ll join you if you ever start up again,” you said to Hermione.
“That means a lot, (Y/N),” she replied with a smile.
You nodded.
The Great Hall was bustling as students rejoined their friends that they hadn’t seen in weeks. Blaise left for the Slytherin table, a sour look on his face when he saw Pansy and Theo waiting.
“Good luck,” you called, waving and grinning at Blaise.
He flicked you off and you laughed.
Ron and Hermione bid farewell and joined the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors near the front of the room.
You strode to your usual seat at the Head Table, sliding into the chair and looking out over the room.
Harry and Draco followed you. A few curious and amused stares followed the three of you, but you did your best to ignore them. Despite everything, the students at Hogwarts seemed only slightly interested in the drama Skeeter had kicked up. You wondered if that had to do with the fact the three of you were professors more than them gaining some sort of sense of maturity. Harry’s relationships had always been free game here. So that coupled with Draco’s involvement had made you assume people would be harassing you non-stop, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
McGonagall made the standard announcements about exams, quidditch, and rules, but you didn’t pay them much mind.
“I wanted to ask you guys something,” you said, pushing some food around on your plate.
“What’s that?” Harry asked.
“I’m going to organize a field trip. McGonagall says I need to have other professors with me. I was hoping you guys would agree to do it.”
“A field trip?” Draco asked.
“Yeah. Expose them to the muggle world. Like I did with you.”
Draco nodded, “I’ll help.”
“Thank you.”
“Me too,” Harry said.
You looked over at him and smiled.
“Thanks, guys. We’re just going to go to the movies. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
“How did you convince McGonagall to agree?” Draco asked.
“I just asked her, and she said yes. Not much convincing needed.”
When dinner ended McGonagall had the professors stay behind while the prefects led students back to their dorms.
McGonagall stood and you fidgeted. This couldn’t be good.
“There has been no sign of Antonin Dolohov since his escape. The ministry is pulling back their Aurors,” McGonagall said.
You gaped. It seemed incredibly irresponsible to remove the Aurors just because Antonin was yet to resurface. There was very little chance of him making it out of the country so it made the most sense to assume that he was coming to Hogwarts to avenge Voldemort through Harry or Draco.
“The repairs are almost complete, and the wards are stronger than ever. We will be protected and safe. There is no reason to worry.”
You glanced at Harry and then Draco, but nothing on their faces gave away how they felt.
“I know that this is concerning for some of you, but rest assured this is the safest place to be right now.”
You held back a scoff. That was what they had said before and look where that had gotten the school.
“Classes resume on Monday. You’re dismissed,” McGonagall said, turning to Deputy Headmaster Kimathi.
The professors stood and you sighed, pushing away from the table.
“I have a bad feeling about that,” you said once the three of you had exited the Great Hall.
Harry nodded and Draco snorted.
“They’ve all but invited him into the castle,” Draco said.
“He doesn’t have a wand,” Harry said.
“He doesn’t need one. He didn’t even like using it.”
“What does that mean?” You asked.
Draco paused for a moment. “He was more hands-on.”
You shuddered. Every Death Eater had their own way of killing though it seemed not using a wand would be antithetical to their belief in magical superiority.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s not getting in,” Harry said firmly.
“Oh, does the savior say so?” Draco snapped.
“Hey!” You interjected. “Don’t start.”
Harry gave you an apologetic look, but you shook your head. Your reprimand had been entirely directed at Draco.
“He might be coming here for you guys.”
“For him, maybe. It doesn’t make sense for him to come after me,” Draco said.
You rolled your eyes. “You act like nobody saw you toss that wand to Harry.”
“She’s got a point. I might be the one who killed him, but you got me the wand. You betrayed your father and Voldemort in front of every single Death Eater,” Harry said.
Draco said nothing. You thought about pushing him to acknowledge that he was just as much of a target as Harry, but he was well past defensive to lashing out, so you left it alone.
You entered the common room, a few students catching up around the fire, but most were in their rooms. Ron and Hermione were sitting with the Gryffindors. Harry joined them, leaving you and Draco by the door.
“I’m going to bed,” you said. “Long day tomorrow.”
Draco nodded. Tomorrow students would have the day off while professors were in their classrooms getting ready for the semester.
“Are we good?” You asked, picking at your nails to avoid looking at Draco.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Draco asked, confused.
“Cuz of the Skeeter crap?”
Draco snorted, though the sound was hollow. “As tiring as it is, it’s not your fault she’s insane and obsessed with Harry.”
“The last few have just been about us.”
“You mean my dastardly plan to steal you away from the Chosen One?”
You laughed and looked up. Draco looked amused, with no hint of anger, frustration, or annoyance on his face.
“You swept me off my feet at a ball. What did she say? ‘A fairytale affair?’
Draco threw his head back, a loud, genuine laugh escaping him.
You grinned. Draco sobered and gave you a soft smile, one you had only seen a few times before. Almost loving in its tenderness.
“We’re fine. I promise,” Draco said, catching your hand. You inhaled sharply at his touch; you had forgotten how it felt. You were suddenly aware of every point of contact, your fingers brushing across the cool skin of his hand.
“Good. I think you have a book to finish so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You squeezed his hand once before dropping it.
You waved off the Gryffindors when they tried to get you to join them by the fire. You were too tired for a big group of people.
Back in your room, your luggage sat at the foot of your bed. The broom was propped against it and Athena’s cage was sitting on your desk.
You stripped off your cloak and clothes, hanging them in the closet. You quickly dressed before going back to your luggage to unpack.
The clothes from your parents went into the wardrobe. Makeup and jewelry into the bathroom. Broomstick laid across the top of the wardrobe.
You were stowing the suitcase under the bed when Harry entered the room.
“Hi,” you called.
“Hi?” Harry replied.
“Down here.”
You heard Harry round the bed and then stop in his tracks.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting away my suitcase,” you replied and sat up.
Harry wordlessly held out a hand and you took it, allowing him to hoist you up. Harry’s hand lingered on yours and you looked down at your joined hands.
Harry’s fingers flexed, but he didn’t pull away. When you looked up you were met with piercing blue eyes that were focused entirely on you.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
You opened your mouth, but you realized you didn’t know what to say. You looked away; you couldn’t handle the weight of his stare.
“Are we good?” You said finally.
“Yes,” he replied, easy and simple.
“You’re not mad?”
“No.”
“You know what I’m talking about, right?”
“Yes.”
You huffed and looked back at him. Harry was standing there, sincere and patient as you floundered.
“Even if I could be mad, which I can’t, I wouldn’t be.”
“Why?”
“Would you be mad if you were me?”
You pursed your lips. You wouldn’t be. Harry can’t control what Skeeter does any more than you can. You’re also not together. Even if he was dancing with some other woman you would never allow yourself to get mad at him.
“I’m sorry,” you said finally.
“What for?”
You shrugged.
Harry’s hand came up to your chin and he turned your head to face him. You saw his sleeve ride down to reveal the bracelet you had gotten him, and your heart clenched. Your gaze met his and you inhaled sharply. Harry was doing nothing to hide the desire in his eyes, but you could see genuine affection in them still.
Summary: You arrive back at Hogwarts and talk to Draco and Harry about the future.
Word Count: 3.6k
Rating: Teen (other parts M)
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“We’re going to go see Ginny and Luna,” Hermione whispered, glancing at (Y/N)’s sleeping form.
Sometime in the second hour of the trip (Y/N) had gone from quietly listening to music to sleeping. Blaise had suggested several creative ways to wake her up, but Hermione had stopped him from following through on any.
Harry nodded and waved them off, content to stay in the cabin regardless of the two Slytherins occupying it.
(Y/N) shifted and her head dropped onto Harry’s shoulder. Harry stiffened, gaze shooting to look down at the top of her head.
Blaise snorted and stood, pulling the door open with enough force to cause the slam to reverberate in the small cabin.
“Fuck you, Blaise,” (Y/N) mumbled, barely awake.
“You wish, Sleeping Beauty,” Blaise replied.
She grunted something and leaned further into Harry. Harry made a confused noise, but (Y/N) was fast asleep again.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you didn’t like her,” Malfoy said, closing his book.
Harry’s gaze shot up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Why would you say that?” Harry asked voice low to keep from waking her.
“She fell asleep on you, and you look disgusted.”
“Disgusted?”
Malfoy shrugged.
“I’m not disgusted. Just surprised.”
“You share a room I’m sure you’ve seen her sleep before.”
Harry looked away. He’d seen her sleep in his arms, though he doubted Malfoy would want to hear that.
“So, what’s the issue?” Malfoy pressed.
“What do you think the issue is?” Harry countered.
“Me.”
Harry said nothing and Malfoy sighed.
“Skeeter isn’t helping,” Harry attempted to joke.
“Only herself.”
Harry sighed, scrubbing his free hand through his hair. He had no desire to talk to Malfoy about (Y/N). Though they weren’t at each other’s throats anymore fighting over (Y/N) could send them right back to their rivalry. He didn't want that and he knew Malfoy didn't either.
If Harry was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t know what to say if Malfoy did try to talk about it. He got along with (Y/N) better than anyone else. Ron and Hermione were his best friends and they had gone through so much together, but they would always think of him as their friend comma The Boy Who Lived. He didn’t mind it most of the time, but (Y/N) appeared to be making an effort to pretend like he wasn’t the savior of the Wizarding World. Very few people had tried to treat him normally, and even less had been successful.
She never pressed him for stories about what had happened. Her expectant looks were few and far between. She had never treated him as The Boy Who Lived but as Harry Potter.
She was thoughtful, intelligent, witty, and kind.
Beautiful too.
Obstinate and opinionated.
Malfoy sighed and opened his book again. He clearly didn’t want to have that conversation with Harry either.
Harry turned his gaze to the window, letting his thoughts wander while (Y/N) slept soundly against him.
Hermione and Ron slipped back into the cabin sometime later. Hermione shot Harry a questioning look at (Y/N) sleeping on his arm. Harry only shook his head in response.
The door rolled shut and the loud noise had her turning away from Harry. She shifted and then leaned against Draco. Draco for his part looked unperturbed, continuing to read his book, only moving so she could rest more comfortably against him.
Ron started to laugh, and Hermione elbowed him causing him to choke.
You were awoken by someone gently smoothing their hand over your hair.
“(Y/N), you need to wake up now,” Draco whispered.
You grumbled and pressed your face further into the soft fabric. You inhaled, smelling something woodsy and fresh. Draco.
Your eyes shot open.
The cabin was empty save the two of you. You cleared your throat and picked your head up.
“Finally awake,” Draco said, a grin on his face.
“You could have woken me up sooner,” you said, running your fingers over your hair in a poor attempt to tame it.
Draco shrugged.
“Was I sleeping on you the whole time?”
Draco shook his head and you sighed in relief.
“Harry too”
You blinked and Draco’s grin widened. You looked around, but Harry was nowhere to be found and you grimaced.
“It made him uncomfortable?”
“They’re just all changing.”
“Oh.”
You looked outside. Darkness had fallen already so you couldn’t make out any landmarks.
“I should go change too,” you said, standing up. You picked up Athena’s cage and she cooed. You rubbed her chin before setting the cage down in your seat.
“Should be there in twenty minutes or so,” Draco said.
You nodded and stretched your arms over your head. You groaned the feeling, your muscles stretching just shy of painfully.
You rotated your neck, your gaze falling on Draco as he watched you. You blushed, realizing you had been standing in front of him, groaning while your stretch revealed your bare stomach.
“I’ll be right back,” you said quickly, snatching your purse.
You were gone before Draco could respond, his mind still stuck on the image of you, arms stretched above your head, eyes closed, a groan slipping past your lips.
You slipped inside the bathroom, locking the door before closing the blinds.
Your headphones were still hanging around your neck, so you pulled them off and set them on the small counter.
Because of your position as the temporary Muggle Studies professor, your parents had bought you some more professional and mature outfits. Cleverly they had only purchased muggle clothing which you found infinitely amusing. They had nothing against wizarding clothes, but you knew that they had intentionally chosen things that were unmistakably “muggle.”
You pulled out black slacks, a Ravenclaw blue blouse, and a black blazer. Patent leather flats and the cloak that Narcissa had sent you completed your outfit. The cloak was short and had openings for your arms, much more functional than any other you had owned.
You fixed your hair as best as you could and applied some light makeup. As much as you had avoided makeup, simply because you didn’t want to take the time to learn it, you had changed your tune after your mother had spent the last few days of the holidays teaching you how to use it. Some concealer, mascara, eyeliner, and a light lipstick were all you needed or wanted.
You exited the bathroom and made your way back to the cabin, nervous at how you were going to stand out amongst the others.
Hermione and Ron were back, dressed in the typically uniform. Blaise had also reappeared, though his tie was just draped around his neck and he was lazily munching on some candy from the trolley.
Harry though. He looked completely different. Gone were the trainers and poorly fitting standard clothes. The collar of a white button-down poked over the neckline of a red sweater, with white pants and brown boots.
“Who dressed you?” You joked when you opened the door.
Harry looked up, eyes widening when he saw you.
“I did,” Hermione said, brushing past Harry’s lack of response.
“You did a great job.”
“Thank you. You look nice too.”
You smiled and grabbed Athena’s cage, putting her on the seat next to you.
“Muggle clothing, eh?” Blaise asked.
“Muggle Studies professor,” you replied, shrugging.
“Fair enough.”
You snorted, “I’m so glad you approve.”
“If something has Blaise’s approval you should do the opposite of whatever that is,” Draco said from the doorway.
You laughed while Blaise pouted, though he didn’t argue against it.
Draco looked shockingly casual. That’s not to say he was wearing joggers and a t-shirt, but he had spent the majority of last semester in formal potions robes. Now he wore a button-down, his Slytherin tie, a green button-up sweater, and slacks.
“Did the three of you plan to look like professors at a muggle university or was this just an accident?” Blaise asked, amusement in his eyes.
“Happy accident,” you replied, pulling Athena into your lap.
The train ground to a stop. The six of you maneuvered your trunks down and made your way off of the train.
Students flooded the platform with first years collecting near Hagrid. You looked around and realized there was snow covering the trees and path to the thestrals. You murmured a spell to keep your shoes dry and a warming charm.
“Come on, before we have to fight for a carriage,” you called, striding ahead with your wand pointed to your trunk and broom floating next to you and Athena’s cage in your free hand.
The group followed you, other students falling in behind and ahead of you.
You arrived at a clearing where the carriages always waited, and you gasped.
“Strange looking, aren’t they?” Harry said from your right.
You nodded. You had completely forgotten that the carriages were pulled by thestrals. You had never seen them before but after the Battle of Hogwarts… You couldn’t imagine there were many at Hogwarts who couldn’t see them now.
You sat your luggage in the back and put Athena on one of the benches in the carriage.
You slipped around to the side of the thestral, your hands twitching at your side as you fought the urge to touch it. If you had learned anything from the stories told about Draco and Buckbeak back in third year, approaching magical animals was dangerous if you didn’t know how to.
The thestral’s milky white eyes blinked and it tilted its head towards you.
You hummed and reached your hand out slowly. Apparently too slow for the thestral for it bumped its head into your hand.
You laughed and stroked it. Its skin was leathery and strange, but not unpleasant.
“Hey there,” you cooed.
“They’re quite friendly,” Luna said from behind you.
You jumped and the thestral chuffed.
“You scared me, Luna,” you said, your hand on your heart.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).”
“It’s okay.”
“You couldn’t see them before, had you?”
You shook your head. “Could you?”
“Yes. I saw my mother die.”
You choked, your head swiveling to Luna’s. You had talked to her about her mother before, but you didn’t know that Luna had been there when she died.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to know.”
“Lou!” Ginny called from somewhere behind the two of you.
You grinned at Luna, and she blushed.
“I think your girlfriend is missing you,” you said with a teasing lilt in your voice.
“I think so,” Luna said with a smile.
“Go on. I’ll see you later.”
“(Y/N), careful of the Wrackspurts. They won’t help you come to a decision any easier.”
“Decision?”
Luna smiled and her gaze trailed over to Draco who was putting his luggage in the back.
“There’s no perfect choice. Remember that.”
You nodded. Luna’s advice, though often vague, was more helpful than most. Her sincerity and honesty made it easy to listen.
The ride back to the castle was pleasant. Athena was getting more and more anxious to get out of her cage so when the carriage came to a stop you were the first out.
“Stay safe, Athena,” you cautioned, opening her cage.
Athena hopped out into the snow. She looked up at you expectantly and you rolled your eyes.
“Greedy girl,” you chided, rubbing her head before she took off to hunt.
You saw a few house elves popping in and out as they transported students’ luggage to their dorms.
“It’s hard to see, isn’t it?” Hermione asked.
“It is. It’s harder still to understand how so many are okay with it,” you replied. “Never thought ‘slavery bad’ would be a controversial statement.”
Hermione sighed, “Supposedly they don’t want to be free.”
You raised your eyebrows. You had heard that before, but you had never known a house-elf personally and the ones at Hogwarts seemed inclined to avoid people to the point of being unseen.
“That sounds like bullshit.”
“It does. But there’s never been any legislative efforts to end it because of that. I almost wonder if they’re all spelled.”
“What? At birth?”
Hermione shrugged. It wasn’t the most out-there claim, but it would certainly require a lot of effort to keep an entire race of people under control like that.
“The conditions of their bondage are magically based. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that wizard magic, not elf magic is behind it. No one else keeps house-elves except wizards.”
You nodded. “Do you think you’ll keep fighting for their release?”
Hermione sighed, “I want to, but they always tell me not to. During fourth year they were so insulted that they stopped cleaning the Gryffindor common room.”
“Come on you two. I don’t want to be late,” Ron shouted.
You shook your head but followed after the four men that had already started on the path through the courtyard.
“I’ll join you if you ever start up again,” you said to Hermione.
“That means a lot, (Y/N),” she replied with a smile.
You nodded.
The Great Hall was bustling as students rejoined their friends that they hadn’t seen in weeks. Blaise left for the Slytherin table, a sour look on his face when he saw Pansy and Theo waiting.
“Good luck,” you called, waving and grinning at Blaise.
He flicked you off and you laughed.
Ron and Hermione bid farewell and joined the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors near the front of the room.
You strode to your usual seat at the Head Table, sliding into the chair and looking out over the room.
Harry and Draco followed you. A few curious and amused stares followed the three of you, but you did your best to ignore them. Despite everything, the students at Hogwarts seemed only slightly interested in the drama Skeeter had kicked up. You wondered if that had to do with the fact the three of you were professors more than them gaining some sort of sense of maturity. Harry’s relationships had always been free game here. So that coupled with Draco’s involvement had made you assume people would be harassing you non-stop, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
McGonagall made the standard announcements about exams, quidditch, and rules, but you didn’t pay them much mind.
“I wanted to ask you guys something,” you said, pushing some food around on your plate.
“What’s that?” Harry asked.
“I’m going to organize a field trip. McGonagall says I need to have other professors with me. I was hoping you guys would agree to do it.”
“A field trip?” Draco asked.
“Yeah. Expose them to the muggle world. Like I did with you.”
Draco nodded, “I’ll help.”
“Thank you.”
“Me too,” Harry said.
You looked over at him and smiled.
“Thanks, guys. We’re just going to go to the movies. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
“How did you convince McGonagall to agree?” Draco asked.
“I just asked her, and she said yes. Not much convincing needed.”
When dinner ended McGonagall had the professors stay behind while the prefects led students back to their dorms.
McGonagall stood and you fidgeted. This couldn’t be good.
“There has been no sign of Antonin Dolohov since his escape. The ministry is pulling back their Aurors,” McGonagall said.
You gaped. It seemed incredibly irresponsible to remove the Aurors just because Antonin was yet to resurface. There was very little chance of him making it out of the country so it made the most sense to assume that he was coming to Hogwarts to avenge Voldemort through Harry or Draco.
“The repairs are almost complete, and the wards are stronger than ever. We will be protected and safe. There is no reason to worry.”
You glanced at Harry and then Draco, but nothing on their faces gave away how they felt.
“I know that this is concerning for some of you, but rest assured this is the safest place to be right now.”
You held back a scoff. That was what they had said before and look where that had gotten the school.
“Classes resume on Monday. You’re dismissed,” McGonagall said, turning to Deputy Headmaster Kimathi.
The professors stood and you sighed, pushing away from the table.
“I have a bad feeling about that,” you said once the three of you had exited the Great Hall.
Harry nodded and Draco snorted.
“They’ve all but invited him into the castle,” Draco said.
“He doesn’t have a wand,” Harry said.
“He doesn’t need one. He didn’t even like using it.”
“What does that mean?” You asked.
Draco paused for a moment. “He was more hands-on.”
You shuddered. Every Death Eater had their own way of killing though it seemed not using a wand would be antithetical to their belief in magical superiority.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s not getting in,” Harry said firmly.
“Oh, does the savior say so?” Draco snapped.
“Hey!” You interjected. “Don’t start.”
Harry gave you an apologetic look, but you shook your head. Your reprimand had been entirely directed at Draco.
“He might be coming here for you guys.”
“For him, maybe. It doesn’t make sense for him to come after me,” Draco said.
You rolled your eyes. “You act like nobody saw you toss that wand to Harry.”
“She’s got a point. I might be the one who killed him, but you got me the wand. You betrayed your father and Voldemort in front of every single Death Eater,” Harry said.
Draco said nothing. You thought about pushing him to acknowledge that he was just as much of a target as Harry, but he was well past defensive to lashing out, so you left it alone.
You entered the common room, a few students catching up around the fire, but most were in their rooms. Ron and Hermione were sitting with the Gryffindors. Harry joined them, leaving you and Draco by the door.
“I’m going to bed,” you said. “Long day tomorrow.”
Draco nodded. Tomorrow students would have the day off while professors were in their classrooms getting ready for the semester.
“Are we good?” You asked, picking at your nails to avoid looking at Draco.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Draco asked, confused.
“Cuz of the Skeeter crap?”
Draco snorted, though the sound was hollow. “As tiring as it is, it’s not your fault she’s insane and obsessed with Harry.”
“The last few have just been about us.”
“You mean my dastardly plan to steal you away from the Chosen One?”
You laughed and looked up. Draco looked amused, with no hint of anger, frustration, or annoyance on his face.
“You swept me off my feet at a ball. What did she say? ‘A fairytale affair?’
Draco threw his head back, a loud, genuine laugh escaping him.
You grinned. Draco sobered and gave you a soft smile, one you had only seen a few times before. Almost loving in its tenderness.
“We’re fine. I promise,” Draco said, catching your hand. You inhaled sharply at his touch; you had forgotten how it felt. You were suddenly aware of every point of contact, your fingers brushing across the cool skin of his hand.
“Good. I think you have a book to finish so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You squeezed his hand once before dropping it.
You waved off the Gryffindors when they tried to get you to join them by the fire. You were too tired for a big group of people.
Back in your room, your luggage sat at the foot of your bed. The broom was propped against it and Athena’s cage was sitting on your desk.
You stripped off your cloak and clothes, hanging them in the closet. You quickly dressed before going back to your luggage to unpack.
The clothes from your parents went into the wardrobe. Makeup and jewelry into the bathroom. Broomstick laid across the top of the wardrobe.
You were stowing the suitcase under the bed when Harry entered the room.
“Hi,” you called.
“Hi?” Harry replied.
“Down here.”
You heard Harry round the bed and then stop in his tracks.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting away my suitcase,” you replied and sat up.
Harry wordlessly held out a hand and you took it, allowing him to hoist you up. Harry’s hand lingered on yours and you looked down at your joined hands.
Harry’s fingers flexed, but he didn’t pull away. When you looked up you were met with piercing blue eyes that were focused entirely on you.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
You opened your mouth, but you realized you didn’t know what to say. You looked away; you couldn’t handle the weight of his stare.
“Are we good?” You said finally.
“Yes,” he replied, easy and simple.
“You’re not mad?”
“No.”
“You know what I’m talking about, right?”
“Yes.”
You huffed and looked back at him. Harry was standing there, sincere and patient as you floundered.
“Even if I could be mad, which I can’t, I wouldn’t be.”
“Why?”
“Would you be mad if you were me?”
You pursed your lips. You wouldn’t be. Harry can’t control what Skeeter does any more than you can. You’re also not together. Even if he was dancing with some other woman you would never allow yourself to get mad at him.
“I’m sorry,” you said finally.
“What for?”
You shrugged.
Harry’s hand came up to your chin and he turned your head to face him. You saw his sleeve ride down to reveal the bracelet you had gotten him, and your heart clenched. Your gaze met his and you inhaled sharply. Harry was doing nothing to hide the desire in his eyes, but you could see genuine affection in them still.
