Get Recced! — a Drarry Rec Blog

@drarry-reccage is a fic rec blog run by a few pals who love reading and spreading the good word of Drarry!

Watch this space for Drarry fanfic recs of all sorts: new and old, seen and unseen, from fluffy to angsty, and everything in between ✨

Shout It Out by @toomuchplor [4.5k, E]

Tags: getting together, auror!harry, auror!draco, pwp

Draco's got a big mouth. Not just wide, though it's that, too: big in his narrow angular face, expressive, mobile. Generous, maybe, though that's not the word that Harry used to think of when he thought of Draco, back when Draco was a full wanker and not just a recreational one like he is now.

Hot and funny, this fic affected me in an unexpected way, which is kinda rich, since the theme of it is expectations vs reality. I just loved Draco as depicted here. His humor, his audacity, but most of all, the way he carries himself in bed. There's something strangely intimate, vulnerable and relatable about it, and it stayed in my thoughts for days and days after reading. Not the experience I usually find, or look for, in pwp!

everything you could ever want by @eleadore (14k, E)

Tags: 8th year, undernegotiated kink, painplay, reluctant dom draco, eager sub harry, and ✨ wizarding rugby ✨

It's been years since someone pinched him. No, not someone— there's only ever been one person determined enough to torment Harry with so much variety. He can still remember how it felt: the shock of it, the persistent throb. Malfoy's snicker in his ear turning into an ow when Harry stomped on his foot in retaliation, the sullen nothing, Professor, and Harry squirming away from him in the crowd to escape the next pinch.  They were kids. Malfoy always went for the bits that would hurt the most, even then: where Harry's robe had fallen aside and left his side vulnerable, the thin skin of his wrist. Once, when they were herded along the corridors like so many sheep, tripping over each other—the back of his neck. He was quick and mean. He'd twist.  Harry doesn't realise he's staring until Malfoy looks back at him and raises his eyebrows. What? Harry looks away before he can stop himself, an admission of guilt as much as anything.

Wow, it was difficult to pick out an excerpt for this one. So many bits that I love! I ended up rereading pretty much the entire story. And what a story it is! Everything about it, from Harry's moodiness to Draco's reticence, to them finally coming together through sports, rings so true. True to canon, yes, but also true to my own sense of how passions work their way out of us and into us before they can be named; of how two soul-wrung, lonely teenagers might find comfort in each other, not through talk, but through touch. And boy, does Harry hunger for it! This story is one of the best portrayals of masochistic craving I've ever read. It spoke to me in so many ways? I will never forget it, and never stop raving about it.

Because Potter is Allergic to Poppies by lomonaaeren (41k, M)

Tags: Healers, Mystery, Humor

The patient on the bed in front of him was Harry Potter. Granted, it was sort of hard to recognize him while he was flopping all over the place, each limb appearing to have a will of its own. But Draco had looked at the eyes and the scar first, he always did, and that was what he recognized. He came cautiously towards the bed, wondering what had happened, and whether Healer Mallow wanted him for an important task. His chest started to swell as he imagined helping to save the Savior’s life— “Apprentice!” Mallow roared. “Hold his arm down!” Draco scowled, but sprang to his task as Potter’s elbow nearly smacked the Healer in the face. The arm resisted him, and Draco noticed the spongy texture to the skin. Then, even as he held it, he felt the sponginess become stoniness. “The Marble Walking Curse, sir?” he asked Mallow.

Want for Nothing by @syrahbat (79k, M)

Tags: Grief, Slow Burn, Auror Harry Potter, POV Draco Malfoy, Angst with a Happy Ending

The windows were open. There was a warm breeze and the sound of trees dancing in the wind outside mingled with the songs of birds. His mind was soft and groggy with Dreamless Sleep as he pushed his face into the silken pillow, remembering he had a body and that it hurt. He couldn’t recall why. He cracked open his eyes, and for a moment he hadn’t a clue where he was, because the walls had been papered over from the dark and dreary faded plum and gold. Now, it was a brushed cream with intricate and painterly trees, full of long branches and wildflowers and ivy and things that grow to be beautiful. The four poster’s drapes were replaced with a light moss green velvet, and the curtains were dancing into the room as they caught the wind. The door clicked, and he rolled over to see Tibs hobbling in with a tray of tea and biscuits and cream, a cheerful look on her face. He couldn’t remember the last time she looked carefree, but maybe he hadn’t been looking very hard. He also couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light. Maybe when he’d been flying with Potter. Maybe when he first saw the sun in his hair. He tried to find the dark feelings again, their path so practised he could walk them blind, but they weren't there. He took a deep breath and let all the air leave his lungs, purging, before inhaling the fresh scent of summer rolling into the room.

This is the kind of beautifully written fic that you don't want to put down, but you took your melatonin and hour ago and your eyelids aren't giving you much of a choice in the matter. There's so much tenderness and love and sadness and joy in this.

Five Women Neville Longbottom Has Loved and Lost by @gyzym (2k, NR)

Tags: Angst, Five Things, Just Read It - It's Beautiful

Luna gives him a long look and laughs throatily, tugging at the spring grass beneath her fingers. He is captured (not for the first time) by the curve of her smile, the ease behind her eyes. "Neville Longbottom," she says, serious in an instant, "what have you lost?" She is looking at him, hard, the clouds gone from each of her irises, and Neville realizes in a slow, languid sort of way that no one has ever asked him that before. He pulls the gum wrapper from his pocket and leans forward and kisses her, soft and sweet, by the lake in the sun on a Tuesday. She smiles into his mouth, shifts herself into an odd position (her legs, crossed over each other on his lap, are smooth under his hesitant hands), and he can feel her laughter, can taste its nutty flavor on his tongue. This is hardly their first kiss—Neville has wanted her and had her in some strange places, some strange days. He thinks he might love her but it's hard to know; it would be like loving water, or air. Her hair is curled in his fingers, a thousand shades of pale, and her wrist is touching his face, leaving him aware that her pulse is erratic, echoing calls from too many directions.

(rec by @cailynwrites)

Harry Potter and the Unintended Horcrux by @acanadianmuggle (60k, E)

Tags: Book 6 & 7 Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence and Death, Horcruxes & Soul Theory, Dead Dove

Ah. Well that was that, then. He’d died trying.  Perhaps that would be enough to save his mother.  Possibly not. But it was hard to care as the dark closed in.  “No - I didn’t -” Potter’s voice sounded small, scared, and drifting as knees came down by Draco’s nose. Potter would remember his first kill at least. Then the yelling started. Myrtle was getting blurry on the edges and slicing through the walls to rattle the school with her screams. “MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!” Draco tried to say something but he was fighting against bubbles that burst against his lips.  It was almost relaxing, in a way. Potter’s hands clutched at Draco’s robes, trying to smooth his skin back together and losing to the gashes that decorated his chest. Potter’s fingers were strong and warm - comforting. Death wasn’t as painful as getting the Dark Mark had been. This time it was as though a great golden blanket spread through his body - pushing warmth and love through every nerve ending as Draco lost his toehold on his body. The last shudders ripped through him, he slipped out of his skin, and the world faded to grey. He could have sworn, just for a moment, that he heard Snape as he left this world with a sigh and a self-reflective chortle that died before it made it out of him.

(rec by @cailynwrites)

As Luck Would Have It by @sleepstxtic (13k, E)

Tags: Hogwarts 6th year, canon divergent, from sex to love

“Fuck,” Draco yelped, as Potter knocked his wand aside and sent them both tumbling to the ground, and then they were grappling on the floor, limbs thrashing, nails scratching, but Potter was stronger than him, with quidditch-thick muscles and a powerful grip. He shoved Draco down and climbed over him, bearing down with the bulk of his weight, and Draco did not think, did not breathe, only bucked his hips up so their cocks brushed together. Potter froze. His breath came in sharp, bursting pants. “Come on, Potter,” Draco said, delirious. “It’s just another way to fight.”

Disclaimer: this incredible fic was my H/D Erised 2024 gift! I loved it down to the last letter on first reading, and I love it a bit more on each reread. The chaotic way the boys come together at the beginning and the sweet, heady descent towards tenderness and trust is to die for. But my favorite thing about it is the clever plot that gives canon this ✨lucky✨ little nudge to make it unspool seamlessly into a completely different story--one I would devour if it were to continue.

The Other Other Minister by @halfeatenmoon (2.5k, G)

Tags: Dr. Who Crossover, Friendship, Harriet Jones & Kingsley Shacklebolt

And so it was that on the first occasion on which she was left alone in her brand new office – and it was probably the newest Office of the Prime Minister of Britain that any Prime Minister of Britain had ever stood in, having only recently been rebuilt - she was actually not all that surprised to find that a very small, dirty and ugly portrait in the corner of the room was talking to her. “To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Congratulations on your new post. The Minister for Magic will arrive shortly to introduce himself.” “How remarkable!” Harriet Jones exclaimed, hurrying over to examine the portrait. “Is this some kind of new video communications system? It’s extraordinary! However did they make it look as though it’s a real painting?” “This is a real painting, Prime Minister,” said the little man in the portrait. “I was once the Minister for Magic and it was I who decided that the Ministry should establish a communications channel with the Muggle Prime Minister in times of need, so I had two portraits of myself painted – one here, and one in the Minister’s office, so that I could relay messages.”

(rec by @cailynwrites)

Nothing But You On My Mind by @moonflower-rose (29k, M)

Tags: Smitten Draco, Pining, Jealousy, Angst, delicious usage of the word 'cunt'

Potter’s eyes flicked to Ron, and Draco realised Potter was holding himself stiffly, awkwardly, like he didn’t really fancy being touched. “Sorry,” Draco said, somewhat flustered, dropping his hands. His belly gave an unsettled churn, just a momentary wobble. Probably just the adrenaline spike of having Potter back and within hugging range. Draco shook it off and smiled at Potter again. “We’ve just really missed you. All of us, I mean. Not just, um. Fifty-six days! I said that already, didn’t I?” Merlin, Draco was babbling. “Sorry. What were you saying?” Ron watched them both with seeming fascination. “You’d just asked Harry why he’d been so rubbish about writing.” Potter cleared his throat. “Erm, yeah. Well, things got away from me a bit I suppose. You know how it is.” Draco didn’t. He’d written diligently despite the growing length between replies which dried up only about three months into Potter’s year-long secondment to the Australian Ministry. Despite the gnawing disappointment as weeks passed without a response. The same gnawing feeling which was growing again now and not as easily thrown off a second time.

This fic has one of the most satisfying usage of the word 'cunt' I have seen in a fic - or a book - ever. The scene lives in my head rent free and that scene is one of the many things you should read this fic for.

The whole thing is so good I wanna burst into tears. Draco's longing? The uncertainty? His rage? And then, from Harry's perspective: the shame and guilt and longing all mixed up were a combo so perfect I didn't want this fic to end, ever.

Fireworks by @copperbadge (2k, T)

Tags: Discworld Crossover, Humor, Werewolves, Remus Lupin x Angua von Uberwald

She had an enormous mass of white-blonde hair, and a clever, angular face that, he thought, bespoke something of the mountain areas. "You're staring again." "Let me buy you a drink," he stammered. She narrowed her eyes. "No," she said finally. "Why not?" "Because you look so goddamned human," she replied. "I've had it about up to here with men who can't decide who the hell they are." She turned back to her drink and downed it. Igor poured her another before tapping his finger on the bar in front of Remus. "Best let her alone, lad. She's a fighter, that one."

(rec by @cailynwrites)

@copperbadge has impeccable comedic timing and nails the Terry Pratchett style. This is so sweet and otherworldly (literally) and I left feeling so happy for Remus to finally have found someone like him.

Victory Lap by Vukovich (5k, E)

Tags: mature drarry, established relationship, bdsm

Excerpt (abridged):

Once I’ve eroded into him, there’s still the matter of his t-shirt between my face and his skin. There’s chest hair I should be burying my nose into. I lift it up, crawl under, and squeeze it back down over my head. The next breath feels like my first. He smells like bar soap and home, and I suck him into my lungs and hold him there like nicotine. It hits my brain on the exhale, and I go boneless. The air comes out of me in a groan that belongs in hospice. He says in words what I can’t. “That case went on way too long.” Part of forgetting him is forgetting the parts of myself that are his. He finds me with his hands first. He always has. He pulls the back of my shirt out of my trousers, and his hands are electric. He runs his nails up my exposed back, and I writhe as though I’ve never been touched before. The opposite is true, though. He knows every square inch of me. He knows me like an instrument. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat first.” For emphasis, he pinches the skin at my waist. I want to cover myself in him. I want to roll in him like a dog. I want to devolve on top of him. And he wants me to sit nicely and use a knife and fork first?

I am so impressed with this fic. With how much it achieves in 5k. The worldbuilding in it is just the backdrop for the sex, which is the undeniable and glorious centerpiece, but I loved it down to the last little detail. The quirky, unpredictable prose kept me on my toes throughout. And the sex is heady. Sweet and hot and heavy, all intimacy, longing, and the relief of homecoming. A glorious read.