kirishima 😳👊💖💘💗💝💞💕

I laugh at those who think they can damage me.

They do not know who I am, they do not know what I think, they cannot even touch the things which are really mine and with which I live.

“It strikes Draco then that this is not an ending, but a beginning.“

tags: eighth year, drarry, fluff, swearing, drama, melodrama, angst, potion theory, magic theory, slow burn

suggested rating: teen and up, for heavy themes

Seven Steps on AO3 || Seven Steps on Wattpad

- Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Step 6  - Part 7 - Part 8  - Part 9  - Part 10  - Part 11  - Part 12   - Part 13  - Part 14  - Part 15  - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23  - Part 24 - Part 25  - Part 26  - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 -

Gladrags Wizardwear was fairly empty considering the busy crush outside. A group of Hogwarts students looked through scarves and gloves, and two older women complained about the robes young people preferred these days.

Draco went to the cloaks in the back corner. The selection was somewhat lacking, which he had expected, this late in the year most people already had their winter cloaks.

Potter wandered around the racks, squinting at the clothes like he expected them to jump out and bite him.

“Ahem,” A man sniffed.

Draco turned with a sigh, lifting his chin, “Yes?”

“I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave,” The stuffy old clerk said. His expression was of someone who had something crawl up their nose and died.

Draco raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

The man clenched his jaw, “Sir, your custom is not wanted here.”

Draco stared at the man then called over his shoulder, “Potter? Where are you?”

“Do people actually wear these robes?” Potter said from the dress robes section, looking at some magenta monstrosity with an atrocious amount of gold filigree.

“It’s a Silvere robe,” Draco said.

Potter shook his head, “It’s ugly.”

“Oh everyone knows, except maybe Madam Silvere. It’s the height of fashion,” Draco said.

“That makes no sense,” Potter said walking over.

Draco shrugged, “It costs a lot of galleons. Therefore, it must have value.”

“Mister H-Harry Potter?” The clerk stammered.

Potter grimaced.

“Yes, the Harry Potter,” Draco said, “He’s assisting me in finding a new cloak-”

“Malfoy…” Potter said.

“-unless you still want me to leave,” Draco finished.

Potter stiffened, “Why would you have to leave?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at the man.

“No! No one has to leave!” the clerk said quickly, “It was a simple misunderstanding. Can I help you find anything, Mr Potter?”

Potter narrowed his eyes, and the old fuck actually flinched.

“I’ll leave you to your shopping-” he stammered backing away and nearly falling over a rack of shawls. “-If you- If you need anything-”

Draco smirked.

“Is that what you needed my help for?” Potter asked, his shoulders still drawn back, stiff as a board.

“Yes,” Draco said.

“Is it always like this?” Potter asked.

“I assume.” Draco said as he flicked through the rack of robes, “I’ve only tried once before. I have my broker buy most of what I need, and if I want to pick something out personally I wear a glamour and Pansy buys it for me.”

Potter looked like a lightning storm in a bottle.

Draco took out a horrid mustard yellow cloak and held in front of himself, “What do you think?”

Potter pushed the robe down, “Why aren’t you angry?”

Draco frowned petulantly that Potter hadn’t laughed and put the cloak back, “What would be the point?”

“What? The way he treated you-!” Potter pointed at the clerk, “How can you stand it?!”

Draco rolled his eyes, “You getting angry might change things Potter, they might even change the way you want to them to. If I were to get angry, all I would get is a headline somewhere along the lines of: ‘Ex-deatheater, Draco Malfoy, causes affray in local shop’. Accompanied by statements of all the witness’ that have lots of words like 'shocked, afraid, disgusted, disappointed, et cetera.”

“You’re a customer. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Draco pulled out another cloak and looked it over critically. “Help me pick out a cloak, Potter.”

Potter frowned at him but eventually said, “These are all horrible.”

“Very true,” Draco agreed.

Potter very quickly shuffled through the rack and pulled out a plain brown cloak, “This one.”

“I’m not wearing that,” Draco said.

Potter dropped it over his arm and walked up to the counter where the clerk was watching him with increasing pallor. “You can do alterations right?”

The clerk nodded and shot to the back of the shop, returning a few moments later with a grumpy witch in her twenties with short brown hair and both ears pieced five times.

“I was on my break,” she said sourly.

The clerk gestured at Potter rather frantically.

She looked at Potter, “Oh, the hero guy.”

Draco bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

“It’s Harry Potter, Kate,” the clerk said.

“Right,” Kate sighed and gestured for them to follow her into the back where a few mirrors and changing rooms had been set up. “Sorry it’s not that I didn’t hear about the war and everything, I was in France doing an apprenticeship for, Merlin, seven years almost.”

“It’s alright,” Potter said quickly.

Kate conjured a box in front of a mirror and took the cloak from Potter’s arms and held it up. “Belch, yeah, no this is the worst.” She looked between the two of them, “Who it for?”

Potter pointed at Draco, “Him.”

Kate gestured to the box, and Draco stepped on. The cloak he was wearing floated off onto a rack and was replaced by the brown thing. With a few quick charms, the cloak was lengthened, and its seams grew to better fit his shoulders.

“What colour do you think?” Kate asked already twirling her wand, “Black? Always a classic.”

“No,” Draco said, “Not black or green or even dark grey.”

Kate looked nonplussed and then shrugged, “Well, with your skin tone warm colours are tricky…”

“How about blue?” Potter suggested.

Kate turned the cloak a pale blue and then gradually darkened it.

“There,” Potter said when it was a lovely shade of midnight blue.

Draco looked at himself in the mirror, “It’s…” he frowned, “too close to black.”

“I really like it though,” Potter said.

“As do I,” Draco said.

Kate put her hands on her hips with a frown. Then she flicked her wand out, and the colour lightened slightly, then darkened again. She grabbed the edge of the cloak, murmuring charms with the tip of her wand pressed to the fabric until the wool itself changed like it had been woven from different skeins of blue. Every movement of the cloak looked like a dark rolling wave, almost black and yet was inexplicably still very blue as the light hit it.

“Wow,” Potter said.

Draco nodded silently in agreement.

Kate didn’t seem terribly aware of them as she transfigured the lining into unfelted wool, white flecked with grey. She walked around the back of the cloak, and a spool of black thread followed her.

Draco held perfectly still as she worked, watching Potter’s amazed expression in the mirror. Ten minutes passed in silence before Kate took a step back and seemed to blink herself back to reality.

“Bordel de merde, not again,” Kate groaned.

Draco laughed and turned to see the back of the cloak reflected in the other mirror. Kate had embroidered what looked like the giant squid, emerging from a storm-tossed sea with its tentacles curling up towards the sky.

“Brilliant,” Potter said.

“I should have asked. This- Sorry, I can change it back,” Kate said quickly.

“Don’t you dare,” Draco said, “Rather, I’d like you to sign it.”

Kate blinked, “It’s an alteration…”

“Changing the colour and the fit is an alteration. This is an original work,” Draco said, “Who did you apprentice under?”

“Reboux,” Kate said fiddling nervously with her wand, “Are you sure you want me to sign it?”

Draco’s eyes widened, “Reboux? I thought she had retired?”

“My mother knew her; it was a favour,” Kate explained.

“I definitely want it signed,” Draco said. “Do you have a card? Do you do private commissions?”

“But I’ve only been working for a month? I can’t do-” Kate said numbly, putting a small signature under the kraken. She shook herself and asked as professionally as she should manage, “Do you want protection, self-cleaning, self-mending, heating charms-?”

“Everything,” Draco said.

Draco waited until she finished before sweeping off the box and pulling out his wallet.

“You pay up front,” Kate said.

“I will,” Draco said, reaching inside and taking out a small sack, “This is for you.”

Kate took the coins, eyes wide, “I- I shouldn’t…. my boss-”

“Doesn’t need to know.” Draco said firmly, “You’re too good for this place. Find regular clients, build up your savings and reputation, and get your own label as soon as possible.”

“Th-thanks?” Kate said, shoving the galleons in her pocket.

“Can you do dress robes too?” Potter asked.

“Yes, of course! Uh…” Kate scrabbled for some pieces of parchment and wrote down her information for both of them. “I have wednesday and thursdays off work here but I could owl in sick for whatever work you want, dress robes, cloaks, casual robes….”

Excellent, thank you,” Draco said.

Draco paid for the cloak and wrapped it around himself as he stepped back outside, Potter only a step behind him.

- Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Step 6  - Part 7 - Part 8  - Part 9  - Part 10  - Part 11  - Part 12   - Part 13  - Part 14  - Part 15  - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23  - Part 24 - Part 25  - Part 26  - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 -

♡ Tags below ♡  (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous part.)

Ok I decided to write a thing… lmk if i should make a part 2 to this! Also shoutout to @captofthesswolfstar for motivating me to write this. Enjoy!

Sometimes, on particularly nice days, Sirius liked to go out in his animagus form and get some fresh air. There was something about being a dog that made being outside a billion times more enjoyable. That was what he’d been doing on this particular Sunday. He’d decided to go to the park, perhaps get a friendly stranger to throw a stick or maybe even a nice tennis ball.

The park was surprisingly empty for such a beautiful day, most were probably spending it at the pool, he mused, as he searched for a viable candidate to play fetch with. There were a few kids on the swings and he decided against going near them, kids were just fine as a human but as a dog going near a group of children almost always led to his fur being pulled or having sticky substances in it by the time he left.

He made a beeline for the other side of the park, which, disappointingly was even more deserted than the rest of the park. There was an elderly couple sitting on a bench not too far away but he didn’t want to disrupt their conversation, there were a few people running laps but he supposed they wouldn’t bother stopping to play with him, and ah yes another man, perhaps around his own age, sitting under a large tree, book in his lap. Now we can’t have that, can we? Padfoot padded over to him, not caring that he’d be distracting him from reading, and placed his head in the man’s lap.

“Hi there, boy!” The man said to him, smiling widely and dropping a hand from his book to stroke Padfoot’s head.

Now that he was closer, Sirius could see the scars that lined the man’s face and neck and wondered what, exactly could have done that much damage. He shuddered at the thought, deciding to lick the man’s face to show his sympathies.

The man laughed, a loud, unrestrained laugh that warmed something deep inside the dog. He continued to stroke Padfoot, scratching behind his ears and rubbing his belly until he found himself dozing on the man’s lap as he continued to read his book.

It was quite a while before Sirius remembered why he’d come over in the first place, his head snapping up as he tried to get the man’s attention again. He nipped at his pants, waiting until The man looked up, before running off to find a large stick and returning with it. He dropped it at The man’s feet before looking up at him pleadingly.

“You want me to throw it?” The man asked, marking his place in his book before finally setting it down in the grass. Taking Padfoot’s responding bark as a yes, he threw the stick across the park smiling as the dog galloped after it.

They spent the day like that, only stopping once the sky had begun to grow dark, “I’m sorry, I have to go home now” the man had said, kneeling down to stroke Padfoot one last time before beginning his walk home.

The man had forgotten his book, Sirius realized, and he was already too far away to hear Padfoot’s barks. So, making sure not to get slobber on the pages, Padfoot picked up the book with his teeth before trotting after The man. He followed him all the way home and, stopping outside the door he’d watched The man enter, dropped the book and began barking like a maniac.

After about a minute of endless barking, The man opened the door and Padfoot walked in, the book once again between his teeth.

“Just come on in, why don’t you?” The man muttered not at all displeasedly.

Padfoot dropped the book on the coffee table and then jumped onto The man’s couch and curling up, relishing the coziness of The man’s house.

“Hey, that’s my book.” He muttered picking it up and inspecting the bite marks that now lined the cover, “Did you come all this way just to bring me this?” He asked incredulously, plopping down next to Padfoot and scratching behind his ears again.

That wasn’t the only reason Sirius had decided to follow The man home, but he nodded anyway.

“Well thank you, then,” he paused, looking somewhat uncomfortable, “you didn’t have to do that.” Padfoot huffed, hopefully portraying to The man that he’d wanted to do so.

Sirius was beginning to realize that, perhaps coming here was a bad idea. It wasn’t that he was unhappy or that he disliked The man. No, it was quite the opposite of that actually, it was that he was so happy and he liked The man so much he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to leave.  

That night, Padfoot decided he could afford to sleep at The man’s house. So they curled up in his small bed, Padfoot’s head on The man’s chest and The man’s arms wrapped around his neck. This, Sirius decided as he began to doze, was what it felt like to be truly happy.

The next morning, Sirius was awoken to the sound of the shower turning on somewhere in the distance. He got up, trotted back into the living room and cozied up on the couch, waiting for The man to be done in the shower so he could pet him once more.

Ten minutes later, The man walked out of the bathroom in shabby robes. So he was a wizard, Sirius mused, he wouldn’t have suspected as much given the amount of electrical appliances he kept in his home.

“I’ve got to go to work now,” He said sitting down next to Padfoot and sliding on his shoes, “I can let you out, if you’d prefer to spend your day outside.” Padfoot didn’t move, “Or you can stay here,” The man said, a lopsided grin on his face. Padfoot barked “Well it’s decided then,” The man chuckled, giving him one last pat before departing through the floo.

“MInistry of magic!” He yelled, spinning in the green flames before disappearing from view.

After The man was gone, Sirius turned back into his human form deciding to do some investigating. He learned The man’s name was Remus Lupin from a pile of his mail, he recognized that name from somewhere. The rest of the day was spent raiding The ma- Remus’s fridge, making sure not to make it obvious there was food missing, and skimming through some of his books.

He changed back into Padfoot when the floo once again roared to life and waited on the couch for Remus. Remus collapsed onto the couch with a sigh, resting his head in his hands as he swore under his breath. Gone was the smiley, chipper person Sirius had been spending his time with. There was no doubt that something was wrong, and it was of the utmost importance that Padfoot made him feel better. The dog whined quietly nudging The m- Remus’s arm with his nose. Remus dropped his arm and now Sirius could see the tears streaming his face, who did this to him, Padfoot thought angrily. He found himself growling inadvertently at the thought of someone hurting this kind, caring person.

“It’s ok” Remus said trying to sooth the dog, his own problems momentarily forgotten, “It’s just, just- fuck-” He ran a hand through his hair attempting to regain his equilibrium, “I just lost my job.” He choked out, reaching out to stroke the dog allowing the soft fur against his fingers sooth him.

After a while of sitting like that Padfoot whined again to get Remus’s attention and then tilted his head to the side, silently asking why he’d been fired. “I should have expected it really,” he said warily, “Most of my jobs never last longer than a few months. I guess I can’t help but get my hopes up.” He sighed again, looking to the floor, “I’m a werewolf, you see.” He looked back up at Padfoot as if he thought this information would send the dog running for the hills, “Every time one of my bosses figures it out I’m fired within days.” By this point Padfoot was curled up in Remus’s lap, hoping to be helping him.

They sit there for the remainder of the night, Remus at one point had calmed down enough to keep reading his book from the other day. He would have looked, to most people, that he was perfectly fine now that he’d calmed from his outburst but Sirius could tell he was still shaken. He’d been on the same page for minutes and was at this point just staring at the wall, not even attempting to read. Sirius couldn’t help but be worried for Remus.

Sirius stayed at Remus’s house for a week, comforting him when necessary and listening to him rant on an hourly basis. Each day he’d tell himself that was the day he was going to leave and each day he couldn’t bring himself to leave Remus alone. It was sunday when Remus finally had to depart from his house to go grocery shopping.

Once he was sure that Remus was gone Sirius turned into his human form once more, rummaging through Remus’s things to find a piece of parchment and a quill. Yes, he had to leave but he wasn’t going to do so without saying goodbye or an explanation. He wrote his piece and placed the letter on the kitchen counter, looking around the house one last time before departing. Guilt wracked him as he closed the door behind him and hoped he would see Remus Lupin again.

Remus returned to the house not even an hour later, he walked into the kitchen to begin putting the groceries away when he saw the note. He picked it up and read through it, only realizing then that his furry companion was missing.

Remus,

My name is Sirius Black, and I am so sorry. I have been living in your house as my animagus form, Padfoot, for the past week. I wanted to tell you the truth once I’d found out you were a wizard, I really did, but I didn’t think you’d take it well if your new dog suddenly turned into a person and I really didn’t want to be kicked out. I’m sorry you lost your job and I’m sorry the ministry is making it difficult for you to get another one, the whole lot of them are wankers I swear. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and would be happy to lend an ear or a shoulder to lean on. You can floo me at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, please keep in touch. Please.

Sincerely,

- Has the right amount of fluff;

- Has the right amount of smut;

- Has the right amount of angst;

- Has your OTP as main characters and your other OTP’s as secondary characters;

- Great character description and development;

- Has a huge amount of words;

- Written beautifully and looks like poetry;

- Has a happy ending

Draco: is it your mouth?

Draco: ew don’t call me that, I’m not a child

i cannot believe i’m crying in a stall of moaning myrtles bathroom

you’re not the only one

two sad pathetic fucks we are

it looks that way

seems you come here as often as i do

lots to cry about

tell me about it

too much, dont know where to start

oh i didnt, well ok, no problem, this is just a wall after all

you’re not like the diary, are you?

here i was hoping you weren’t

im real

me too

why do you cry so much?

ehhh pressure

i hear you

when i cry?????

no! i understand. about pressure.

we’ve been crying for weeks now

honestly, sometimes i come here just to see if you’ve answered

same

who are you?

you’d never believe me if i told you

i think i’m more improbable than you

wanna bet?

im going to bet you’re a gryffindor

point. im going to bet you’re a boy

you are too so

you’re not a gryffindor

clever

slytherin

played myself into that one

do you want to meet?

are you asking me out on the wall of a bathroom of which we come to cry

i’m not asking you out! i’m asking to meet

pitty, i like boys

don’t think you’d like me like that

who is to say, most gryffindores are pretty

what if i’m a first year

you’re at least sixteen

never did cry as much when we were younger did we

it appears so. im an eight year

huh. me too

if you’re ronald weasley, this thing NEVER happened

i’m not ron. i know who you are tho

guess we’ll see if that makes any difference

it doesn’t

so who are you

why don’t you come back here on thursday after devination and i’ll show you