snakes & kittens

there is delaware (state) and delaware (river) 

both are equally strange

the state is a tiny little cryptid thing

the rive is a monster that spans new york, pennsylvania, new jersey and delaware. also washington crossed it once and that was like kinda a big deal i guess. like crossing the rubicon in rome.

Drarry | 2.8k | E

A slow burn slithers down my throat and settles, deep and warm in my chest. Theo was the one who was slick enough to get the bottles of Firewhiskey, but I was the one who was slick enough to have nicked one for myself. My head and mind whirl rapidly and I lay back on my bed. I strip down to my pants, floating the discarded clothes away with a lazy wave of my hand. My eyes are closed, but a small thump tells me they landed in their destination: the hamper. Private quarters for the Eighth-year students was definitely an appreciated privilege. My mind swims through the day, maybe in an attempt to discover how I could’ve possibly gotten myself into my current situation.

Of course, it all began with Granger and Pansy (who, by some terrible strike of doom, have become near-inseparable partners in crime) who organized a party for the Eights, as they call us, in the Room of Requirement. After watching the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff match (Hufflepuff blasted Ravenclaw to next week, impressively), we all headed to dinner, stirred up and antsy for the night yet to begin.

After the feast, all the Eights (a surprisingly well-meshed group at this late time in the year) gradually found their way up to the Room. The party itself was lovely, if I’m perfectly honest. The drinks were warm and comforting or crisp and sweet, both favourites of mine, and seeing my drunk classmates play cliche games was entertainment of the best sort. They’d decided to play spin-the-bottle. I watched mindlessly as the bottle spun, bodies crossed to the middle for the kiss (some chaste and sweet, some more feisty which only ramped up when the rest of the group urged the pairs on with heckling and praise).

If I’m honest, I wasn’t really paying attention to the game. I was sitting, like a stupid sentimental fool, happily thinking about how far I’d come, my family had come, since the end of the war. Things weren’t always so nice; early on the Malfoy name was synonymous with dirt. But with Lucius (I stopped calling him Father after he begged me to take the Mark, to right his mistake, to appease our Master… you can understand why) Kissed by a Dementor, soulless in Azkaban, Mother and I were free to partner up and strike the field with well-timed donations, apologies, and genuine sorrow and remorse. The remorse was hell. Is hell. I still have nightmares, but that’s not what we’re going to talk about here.

I knew everyone was watching me before I looked. The bottle was pointing towards me. I hadn’t even paid attention to who had spun it. I looked around in alarm, trying to deduce who it was, when Potter crept towards the center of the circle, those jungle-green eyes blazing intensely into mine. I recall a sudden feeling of immense heat building in my chest and settling in my groin as I instinctually mirrored his actions, even though my mind was in a blank panic.

His eyes burned into mine for a moment before he smirked, almost evilly, if you ask me, and just grabbed me! He just grabbed me by my neck and waist and pulled me to him in a quick, strong movement that made me gasp. His grip was strong but he was impossibly gentle as he leaned in and just barely brushed his lips against mine, a quick tease before pressing more firmly. He slipped his warm, velvety soft tongue against my bottom lip and I gasped again. He took the advantage, in this game we always seem to play (though in decidedly different circumstances this time), and stuck his tongue in my mouth! And honestly, I could never truly be blamed for the sounds I made when he pulled at my hair and held me closer, exploring my mouth with enthusiasm as I melted into him. Because who would or could do anything else at all when the pursuer was Harry Potter?! Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived Twice, the Savior, the Golden Boy, the Chosen One, the fittest bloke in the whole of Britain. The boy whose attention I’d craved since I’d first laid my eyes on him. And he was kissing me. Like that!

All too soon, a gentle push on my chest broke me from the fantasy and I opened my eyes to see his mischievous darkened ones gazing into mine. Whooping sounds could be heard around us but it seemed I was stuck in a bubble, a perfect bubble of time with Harry James Potter, the most gorgeous, perfect creature to ever fucking grace the planet. Who was staring at me like I was something he wanted to devour.

Again, the moment ended too fast and we were guided back to our seats in the circle. The rest of the party passed in a complete flurry as nothing I thought of could even attempt to keep me from focusing on that divine kiss with Potter. Eventually I teetered out of the room, back to my quarters, where I should have just drank a sobriety potion and gone to sleep. Unfortunately, I didn’t.

@wizardingworldonline​​ back to hogwarts | side characters | tonks

“It’s fine that it feels strange, Potter. It's that way for a lot of people,” Malfoy told him softly, after a moment. “It’s not as if it's something you'd considered before...”

Harry breathed a laugh. Malfoy still smelled of that comforting smoky blend of apples and spice, and Harry wanted to roll over and inhale him. “That one day I’d be paying you to hug me? Not in a million years. You?”

Malfoy went quiet for a minute. His hand idly stroked Harry’s stomach, and Harry shifted, trying not to notice—or not to let his body notice, at least. It wasn’t working.

“No,” Malfoy said at last. “I never thought you’d be paying me to hug you. Even recently, it’s not something I ever would have imagined.”

Harry twisted around, caught by something in Malfoy’s tone. Malfoy didn’t lift his head from the pillow; his eyes were closed, and though he must’ve sensed Harry’s movement, his stare, he didn’t open them to acknowledge it. Harry resettled, brow knit.

“You said—this morning you said you Glamour for clients,” Harry murmured. Malfoy’s hand came up and pressed, flat, against Harry’s chest, between his nipples. He could undoubtedly feel the thud of Harry’s heart getting faster, but Harry refused to move again, refused to let himself feel embarrassed just because Malfoy’s legs were tucked into his and he was pressing Harry closer against his chest. He was so bloody tired of feeling embarrassed about what people were thinking. “Why not for me? …Or is that too personal?” Harry asked, not bothering to hide the challenge.

“I didn’t think it was fair,” Malfoy admitted. “I don’t have a—a history with any of my other clients. I don't know any of them personally. If they found out about me… At the most it would be unpleasant, and I’d lose a job. With you—”

Vaguely offended, Harry started to turn again, but Malfoy kept his hand where it was, holding him in place. “You thought I’d what? Get you in trouble?”

He felt a shrug. “No. It just seemed unfair,” he repeated. Then, in an obvious bid to change the subject, “Would you like a shoulder rub, like last night?”

“No,” Harry said, though it sounded rather lovely. But his eyes were heavy, and the unhurried way Malfoy was moving his hand from his chest to his stomach—up and down—was doing more to wake him up than it was to relax him. “I think I’ll go to sleep.”

“You should,” Malfoy said, encouragingly, those posh, clipped tones going low and almost melodic. Harry jerked a little when he felt Malfoy’s hand move to give his waist a little squeeze, as if he approved. He left it there, open, fingers splayed, the heat of them bleeding through the thin cotton of Harry's shirt. “These are good sheets,” he complimented. His breath puffed, warm, over the back of Harry’s neck.

And, like... That was a good decision??? Bc you know how much I love @bluebutter-art 's work, and I know how you feel about this fic in particular, and seeing this beautiful piece was like this sideways whammy of love for everything about you and the brilliance of this fandom, and.... I'm speechless. (Finally, lol.) This is so beautiful. I cannot even, w either of you.

AU 🧡 Pansy has just ran out on her wedding 👰 And now she's getting drunk alone in a muggle bar 🍸 where national hero is hiding from the attention of wizards.

@dailyhpgifs | Scenes Event