Fallin’ Snowflakes

Cozy Stories In The Restricted Section

Hello! I’m Mary and I love writing and Harry Potter so why not combine them? I hope you like them just as much as I do, and happy reading!

Request Requirements Currently: Closed :)

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*All stories are written by me, and feel free to reblog, like, request, or leave commentary! Have a lovely day y’all. 🫶🏻

(Newest stories on top) 🌷 = author’s favorite

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- Draco Malfoy

Coffee Beans And Sugar Cubes- Draco meets someone new at a coffee shop, a place that sells the number one beverage he finds far too bitter. So why does he keep visiting? (Angst) (Sad ending)

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Runnin’ With My Dress Unbottoned- Despite her parents’ strong protests about the dangerous Malfoys, she still finds love with their son Draco.

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Circumspect And Wary- Ever since an incident during childhood, Draco is extra cautious around reader.

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Charming At First But You Made Me Depressed- Draco talks too much about himself, forming a problem between him and Reader. (Inspired by “Bored” by Laufey.)

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Poisoned Thoughts- Reader is drowning in the river of insecurities, and Draco is only the hand that’s pushing her further down. (Angst) (Sad ending)

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Strings And Knots- Reader makes a bracelet for Draco, and, surprisingly to her, it lasts throughout all their years of Hogwarts. 🌷

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Glistening White- Draco invites Reader to a party, something she’d never think of herself being at. But soon she gets drunk and things take a turn. 🌷

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Better Half, Other Half Series- Whatever is drawn on your skin shows up on your soulmate’s skin. 🌷

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Fingers Through Your Hair- Reader plays with Draco’s hair while he sleeps. 🌷

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Fake Hatred- Draco and Reader hate each other. Everybody knows it, even Draco’s friends. But they have suspicions and their gut feelings aren’t wrong.

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Flowers Upon Your Head- Reader officially crowns the Slytherin Prince of Hogwarts, but what she doesn’t expect is to be crowned his princess. (Not real crowns, but made of flowers.) (fluffy love) 🌷

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So Close Yet So Far Away- Reader has a panic attack and Draco helps her.

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Piano Boy- Reader’s parents were invited to a meeting at the Malfoy Manor, and while exploring alone, she finds Draco playing the piano.

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Small Deeds, Small Tea Cups- Reader wakes up one morning and Draco decided to make her tea, forming a small kind action he can do every morning. (Fluff)

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From The Start- Reader stops Draco from walking over to his parents when they call him over at the Battle of Hogwarts. (Angst)

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Tension in Potion-Making- Reader and Draco have been friends since early childhood, and something stirs between them when asked to make Amortentia. (Tension) (not sexual)

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Spinning Bottles- Various students of Hogwarts play spin the bottle and Draco gets jealous. (Jealousy)

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Scared- Hagrid is teaching Hogwarts students about Hippogriffs, and when Harry volunteers unwillingly, Reader gets scared. (Fluffy love) 🌷

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Behind Closed Doors- Reader is friends with the Golden Trio as well as in the same House as them, but is dating Draco in secret. (Fluff?)

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Unexpected Smile- Reader likes Potions class, but dreads attending because of the Professor who teaches it. But that all ends when she is paired up with Draco to make a Potion.

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Library Stories- Reader and Draco find peace in the library of Hogwarts. (Very short)

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Scars On Your Skin Like Stars in the Sky- As the Hogwarts floors are quiet and all eyelids are shut, Reader lays in Draco’s bed, asking him about his scars. (Fluff) (Shortish)

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Permeant- The horrible reminder of failure on Draco’s skin is unbearable but Reader is there to comfort. (Angst)

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Dear Draco- While Hogwarts winds down for the night, Reader takes the time to write about her feelings for Draco. (One of my favorites!) (Slight angst)

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Silver Orbs- Reader has a feeling someone’s eyes are on her, and she isn’t wrong.

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Cold Heart- Reader and Draco have a fight over something they can’t even remember and they sleep in separate beds. But all that changes when Reader has a nightmare. (Slight angst)

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Life From a Book- Reader has been thinking about Draco for a long time, and doesn’t even know if he knows her name, but soon they run into each other and something changes.

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*Want more of Draco? Request!*

- Fred Weasley

One With The Wind- Reader has a fear of heights and doesn’t understand what all the hype about flying around is about, until she asks Fred to show her.

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*Want more of Fred? Request!*

- Harry Potter

Hogwarts Express- Reader is right by Harry’s side providing comfort when the Dementor pays a visit. (Based on book scene) 🌷

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Say You Won’t Let Go- Harry wants to stay with her till they’re gray and old… as long as she doesn’t let go. (Based on “Say You Won’t Let Go” by James Arthur) 🌷

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Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall- Slowly throughout your years of Hogwarts, and if the other person looks at the same time, you see your soulmate’s image in the mirror. (Story ends at Fifth Year)

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My Hurt, My Hurt- Reader overhears Harry saying something hurtful. And words hurt. 🌷

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Nothing Can Capture The Sting- Reader tries to replace Harry after they break up, but nothing captures the feeling she has when she’s with him. 🌷

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Makes Paintings With His Tongue- Reader and Harry play some wizard chess in the Common Room, and after some uttered sweet nothings, things change between them. Let’s just say…Harry’s glasses get foggy, and his tie messes up. 🌷

(WARNING: Make out, hints of smut)

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*Want more of Harry? Request!*

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- Extra

3rd Of December- She remembers the 3rd December, but she wishes more than anything that she was Annabeth. (PERCY JACKSON) (AU)

I also don’t only write for Harry Potter, I also sometimes write for Avatar: The Last Airbender! (Weird combination I know) but here’s the in-the-process masterlist:

Avatar Stories

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Coffee Beans and Sugar Cubes (AU)

Draco Malfoy x fem!barista!reader

Summary: Draco meets someone new at a coffee shop, a place that sells the number one beverage he finds far too bitter. So why does he keep visiting?

Warnings: ANGST, couple bad words, couple bad words, just angst. Let me know if you find any others!!

Note: I’m so sorry @falsedivide for the very very late reply, but I still hope you like it, and it was worth the wait! I took a long break, but I’m back!!! Thank you for all the support guys!

Masterlist

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Things felt…weird for Draco, to say the least. Walking through the streets without having to look over his shoulder every two seconds, -though sometimes he caught himself doing so-wearing clothes made of cotton and polyester, something he never pictured himself even owning, yet he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like the way the soft material glided across his skin.

And, to the most unexpected extent, walking into a coffee shop, a place that served the number one beverage he believed was far too bitter for his liking. Yet, every morning when his grey eyes opened for another day, his brain told him one word: new.

Because what else was he supposed to do when he walked by and the distant smell of coffee beans swarmed his nose, or the warmth of pastries made his head spin?

So that morning, December 12th, was the day thee Draco Malfoy decided to drink coffee. Willingly.

It felt like a sin.

And so, with a half stubborn, half reluctant grumble, he makes his splendor fingers wrap around the handle and swings open the door, not bothering to hold it open for the dear old woman (and bless her poor soul) who was stumbling in behind him. The door, most likely, smacked her in the face. (Come on, realistically, Draco is changing, but not that much).

His shoes clicked on the tile floor as he entered, and his sharp, often judgmental, eyes scanned the place. He hated how warm he felt.

He hated everything about what he was about to do.

Hated it so much that he kept walking, all the way to the counter where the cashier was dropping coins into the register, each one making a soft clatter.

And one thing that hasn’t changed within Draco, something he often stubbornly ignored, was that he wasn’t very fond of-nor good at- social interactions. His hands stuff themselves into the pockets of his trousers.

Draco clears his throat.

The young woman-around his age- looks up. A warm smile appears on her lips, and Draco is wondering if they’re painted with lipstick or if they’re actually that pink. She was wearing a soft, yellow sweater that caught his attention. Did he just see the sun?

“Hello, what can I get you today?” She greets, and Draco just knows she must have said that phrase a million times in the last ten minutes, so he doesn’t feel very welcomed.

He clears his throat again, eyes leaving hers. He was told eye contact was a good thing when it came to communication, but this certain girl’s eyes was making his fingers twitch inside his pockets.

No. Draco feels a lot of things, but nervous around girls is not one of them.

“Coffee,” he says simply. Shortly. “….with three sugars.”

The girl nods once, punching in the order on the machine. “Black coffee with three sugars…got it. What size?”

Size?

Draco’s pale brows furrow just the slightest, and it must have been visible to her because she lets out a soft chuckle. “Small, medium, or large?” She lays out three different sized cups on the counter.

Draco’s eyes snap to the cups, scanning all of them. Realistically, if he was trying coffee for the first time in a long time, he wouldn’t want to get too large of a drink, cause if he hated it, it would be a waste. But if it got a small, he wouldn’t want the woman thinking he was a weirdo.

“Medium,” he settles on.

She smiles, grabbing it and writing the order on it with a sharpie. Draco’s eyes don’t leave her movements once.

“Perfect,” she says, setting the cup aside. “Anything else I can get you?”

Draco’s eyes flicker across her face subconsciously. He looks away, looking at the display window of the pastries. “Do you have banana bread?” His eyes meet hers again.

She smiles, and he hates the way it makes his stomach flutter. “Yeah, we do. Chocolate chip and plain.”

Draco thinks, tapping his toes. “…I’ll have plain. One slice.”

She nods, grabbing a small paper bag and setting it in front of her. “Okay, wonderful. Black coffee with three sugars, and one slice of plain banana bread?”

Draco nods once in confirmation.

“Splendid,” she says, punching in the order. “Name?”

“Draco.”

She pauses, sharpie hovering over the cup. “Like the constellation?”

Draco’s brows furrow ever so slightly. “…Yes.”

She clicks her tongue. “Huh. Never met a Draco. It’s a pretty name.”

Draco isn’t sure what to say, so he nods once. (But he also might be a little speechless because of the way his name sounded from her lips, but we could never be sure.)

She gives a small smile. “Anyway, that’ll be $6.25.” She turns the machine around, showing him the prices adding up to the one given.

Relieved for the topic change, Draco’s shoulders sink just a tad. With practiced ease, Draco takes out his wallet, flipping it open with a thumb. He slips out his card, sliding it in the machine. He forces his eyes to stay on the machine screen instead of her face, the way one dimple appears when she smiles.

He slides the card out, putting it back in his wallet. His eyes flicker to hers again, wondering what to do now.

“We’ll get to your order in a moment,” she replies, as if she’s seen that expression billions of times.

Draco steps aside, sticking his wallet back in his pocket. She packages his banana bread, handing him the bag. “There you go, sir. Your coffee will be ready shortly.”

He takes it, careful not to brush his fingers on hers. Because if he did, he wasn’t sure if he could handle the feeling if they were as soft as they looked.

So there he waits, six foot and holding a bag with a slice of banana bread in it. He feels awkward, embarrassed to be in such place.

“For Draco?” The familiar girl’s voice calls after a moment. Draco turns, eyes immediately seeking her figure. She’s holding his coffee, setting it down on the counter.

He takes a step forward, grasping it in his fingers. He gives a small nod of thanks before walking out of that place with the girl who made his stomach flip.

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Draco hated to admit it, but the coffee wasn’t half bad. But it definitely could be better. And sure, the banana bread made him feel warm inside, and his brain kept lingering with curiosity on that lemon tart in the window, (and the cashier girl wearing the yellow sweater) but he didn’t want to form a habit.

…yet his fingers wrap around the handle once more, shoes clicking on the tile floor. And, just like yesterday, warmth wraps around him. He hates how relaxed he feels, especially when a familiar girl- now wearing a purple sweater-, smiles when she sees him.

“Hello, what can I get you today?” She greets, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. Those damn eyes of hers.

Draco orders the lemon tart and the same black coffee with three sugars.

And the next day he orders the blueberry muffin with the same black coffee with three sugars.

And the day after that, he starts ordering the plain slice of banana bread with that damn black coffee and three sugars…

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

And on the 7th day of visiting, he finally adds something new to his order, her number.

She gives a small smile and writes something extra on his cup, and he hates how it makes his heart skip.

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From then on, what started from twitching, nervous fingers changed to warm smiles and brushing hands. It led to him attempting to predict what color her sweater would be the next day, what type of hairstyle her hair was going to be in. Hell, he even got her bows to put in it.

It led to something beautiful, something that made his chest warm, something that made his stomach flutter.

But as they say, even the sun sets in paradise.

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Because the next time Draco visits the cafe, a year and 11 days later, the shop doesn’t have the light it once had.

It wasn’t cozy looking, it wasn’t warm. It was empty. Cold.

And something about looking at it made Draco’s heart twist.

His fingers wrap around the handle once more, the same door he held open for her so many times, and she would give him that smile and walk in before him, giving him a soft whiff of her perfume, and, if he was lucky, her coconut shampoo.

He opens the door, and for the first time in a year, he walks in first. No one to go in before him.

His shoes hit the wood floor, which used to be tiled, and he could see some remains of it in the corners, welcoming dust and cobwebs.

His fingers run along the wooden chairs as he walks, leaving trails of where his fingers were. It feels…hallow. All the smiles and memories that once filled the space no longer there, leaving a a sense of emptiness.

Draco finally makes it to what’s left of the counter, the machines gone and the coffee bean bin empty, leaving brown, dry specks of the seeds. Most of it has been torn out, the color that was once there more jaded now. But Draco already had the layout printed in his mind, each stove knob and wall tile with the damn leaf pattern she used to complain about. The fridge with the random frog magnet, the wall with pinned receipts and orders.

It was all there, but it wasn’t.

It was all gone now.

And all he could blame was himself.

His eyes flicker away from the spot she used to stand when she’d take his order, wearing that same smile, her name tag sitting right below her left shoulder. He moves his gaze onto the corner booth they used to sit in, the laughs sounding in his mind, and he swears he actually hears them echoing in the hallow, empty space that once held the void of his happiness.

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“Why is it flaky?” He asks softly, poking at the croissant on his plate, grey eyes meeting hers. She was wearing a sage green sweater with ducks on it, hair in a half-up doo, green ribbons to match.

She chuckles. “It’s just the way the texture is, love. Put butter on it, it tastes good, I promise.”

He gives her a look as if she grew two heads, and she laughs softly again. “Butter?” He questions. “This looks like paper after you put it in a shredder, and you’re asking me to put butter on it?”

“You’re so overdramatic, I swear,” she mutters, making his eyebrows furrow in disapproval to her comment. She grabs a butter packet, ripping it open. She grabs his knife, spreading butter onto his warm croissant.

Draco watches the butter melt as it touches the warm pastry, and can’t help but feel cared for at the simple action.

She places the croissant back in front of him. “Try it, I promise it’s good.”

Draco hesitates, the flaky texture appearing unpleasing to his eyes. But he trusts her, and the way she’s looking at him is making him want to tell her that if she asked of anything, he’d give it to her.

He sighs reluctantly, pale fingers picking off a piece. He eats it, and he hates how much she was right. It was sweet, soft. And the flaky texture made it melt in his mouth.

“You like it don’t you?” She grins, stealing a small piece.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

~~~

Draco stares at the empty space a second too long before forcing his eyes away. He hates how empty he felt right now.

He blinks hard, standing there for a solid minute before turning to walk out.

And what he sees makes him wish he stayed back in there, stayed within the warmth of the memories they once shared, inside the bubble of giggles and soft touches. Inside of his comfort space.

Because, having just walked past the cafe and now having her backs to him, Draco sees her.

And she isn’t alone.

She’s walking hand in hand with a tall boy with tousled blonde hair. She’s looking at him like he’s hung the moon, a small smile on her lips, the one she once gave to Draco.

Draco stands there, staring at his past, while she stares at her future.

Makes Paintings With His Tongue (bff-lvrs)

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Reader and Harry play some wizard chess in the Common Room, and after some uttered sweet nothings, things change between them. Let’s just say…Harry’s glasses get foggy, and his tie messes up.

Warnings: No use of Y/N, nicknamed ‘sunshine’ or ‘sunny’, make out session, some swearing, hints to future sexual activities (no detail), mention of addiction, etc.

Notes: Harry is my absolute favorite, I needed to write more for my underrated bby. (Also I NEVER write this kinda stuff, so I’m trying it out??) I hope you enjoy! 🤎

Now Playing: Taste by Sabrina Carpenter

Masterlist

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She was being tortured.

Completely tortured by the chess board sitting on the table, pieces shuffling around lazily, some off the board completely from being ‘killed’.

Oh. And by the black haired boy sitting cross-legged across from her, elbows on the table, glasses sliding off his nose from time to time.

She squinted at him. “You’re cheating, aren’t you?”

His grin only grew wider.

That was the all the answer she needed.

Harry must have seen her irritated expression and chuckled, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger, the movement practiced. “Okay, I’m sorry. But can you blame me? You always win, It’s not fair.” His grin turned into a small pout, and her stomach flutters at the sight.

Damn. Why did he have to be so cute?

“As if cheating is fair,” she retorts, only making him chuckle again, the noise getting deeper each time his age gained a year.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop cheating. For now,” he grins, his green eyes gaining back that familiar spark.

She rolls her own, sighing audibly. “You’re gonna give me grey hairs.”

“Can’t give you something you already-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll shove a pawn up your nose.”

He laughs, sitting up and leaning his elbows on the table, upper body hovering hover the board. He lifts a hand, thinking of his next move.

He moves a piece, eyes looking at her over his glass lenses, and grins as if he did the most savage thing imaginable.

Her own eyes move to the board, thinking of her next move.

“Don’t make a mistake,” Harry taunts playfully, and the softness of his voice makes her spine tingle.

“Shut up,” she mutters, moving her rook three squares over.

Harry chuckles softly, shifting his weight back on his legs, eyes scanning the board as he thinks of what to do.

He makes his move, and a moment of silence falls between them. It isn’t tense, it’s comfortable, the only sound being the chess pieces moving from one spot to another, or Harry shifting his position for the millionth time in the past minute (the boy is quite restless, if it isn’t obvious by now.)

Harry moves his bishop, nibbling on his bottom lip in focus. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t staring at the way the soft flesh was captured under his white teeth.

She looks away, looking back down at the chess board. She kills off his bishop using her queen, and Harry sulks.

The game continues, the silence comforting.

He finally breaks the ice. “Sunshine?”

She blinks, her mind losing focus off the game and onto his eyes. “Yeah?”

Harry’s hand holding his knight hovered over the board, not quite placing it in its new spot yet. “If you mastered the magic of reading people’s minds, what would you want to use it for?”

She’s used to Harry’s out-of-the- ordinary questions, it helps her really know what’s going on in his mind.

She thinks for a moment, watching the chess pieces move around, shifting their ceramic weapons from one hand to the other. “…I would want to know what everyone truly thinks of me.”

Harry’s expression softens, but she doesn’t see it, for her eyes are still on the chess board. He sets his knight down, reaching out and picking up her chin with a gentle finger, making her eyes meet his.

“What everyone thinks of you?” He scoffs, as if the concept of her being subconscious about it all is Hippogriff shit. “All you would discover is praise, sunny.”

Her heart skips a solid beat, and she’s surprised he couldn’t hear it. Her eyes widen just a fraction.

Harry sees her widened eyes but doesn’t comment on them. In fact, he doesn’t give her a chance to respond, his soft words continuing. “…I don’t know why you’re so worried about what everything thinks of you, as if they’re bad things. Because…” he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and she hates how fast her eyes are drawn to the movement, the soft flame light from the fire making the wetness glisten, his glass lenses reflecting the orange flames. “If you were to read my mind, and my thoughts about you…it would all be good things.”

Her eyes move from his lips to his eyes, her heart full on pounding in her ears now. She can’t seem to breath for a second, but when she is able, all that comes out is a soft whisper of his name.

Something flickers in Harry’s eyes at her single, breathless word. The green darkening ever so slightly, but also softening at the same time. Either way, it makes her stomach flutter.

“I mean it,” He says, voice just above a murmur, tilting on the edge of intimate. “All the thoughts I have about you are good…..Admiring.”

The last word makes her world stop, her head short circuit. “Harry—”

He leans across the table slightly, right arm moving to push the chess board off the table and out of the way—the pieces scattering on the carpet, their tiny, ceramic bodies making noises of protest—his face getting closer to hers. “Please…say something, anything, other than my name…” he whispers, green eyes searching hers. “I-I need to know that I’m not the only one feeling this way.”

Her heart pounds harder in her ears. “I-…” She swallows, brain firing thoughts, firing things she could say, things she shouldn’t. Things she wanted to do. “I look at you, and…and my world is at ease.”

Harry’s features soften at her heartfelt, genuine words. His right hand reaches out slowly, hesitantly, towards her face. It lands on the back of her neck, fingers in her hair strands, his thumb stroking her jaw.

She feels her heart leap to her throat.

Harry grins ever so slightly, just enough for her to notice, just enough to make her stomach flutter. His thumb slides down her jaw, landing right below her chin. With a soft press of the thumb, her chin lifts, eyes meeting his.

She’s sure her heart is working overtime. From the way his fingers feel in her hair, his breath on her face, green eyes staring back at her with an intensity that she can’t quite put her finger on, it’s all making her heart race.

“Harry—“ she whispers, but her voice dies in her throat as soon as she sees his eyes flicker downwards to her lips. His soft, breathless words take over hers.

“Just-…just let me kiss you,” he says, voice a whisper of the wind, head cocking to the side, mouth hovering over hers. His eyes flicker back up to her eyes. “Please…”

She must have been quiet for a second too long, his fingers shifting in her hair. “Please, I’ll-“ he inhales a shaky breath in, lips moving even closer to hers if possible, but not quite touching. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. I’ll be good…so good. Fuck…just please let me…”

Eyes half open, mind dizzy with thoughts of him, she gives a breathless nod.

Harry’s hot, soft mouth captures hers, instantly cutting her breath short.

A soft whimper escapes him, and she doesn’t dare to comment on it, only focused on ways to hear it again. Her hands move to his neck, pulling him closer, his body hovering over the table at this point. Their lips move against each other softly but oh so deep, her mind hazy from the feeling and taste of him, his hands all over her, forearm on her back, hand dug in her hair.

“Fuck, sunny..” He breaths heavily, separating their lips for a second, tugging her closer with grabby hands. “Come here...”

He guides her to lie back on the couch, body hovering over hers, hands on either side of her head. She grabs his neck softly, bringing his mouth to hers once more. The room is now full of heavy breathing and soft kisses, as well as the occasional sound of Harry adjusting his position above her.

Her hands tug his shirt collar, the maroon and yellow tie around his neck loosening with each grasp of her fingers.

Harry attempts to catch his breath between heated kisses, the air mixing in the small space between their mouths. Between heavy breaths, his hand goes to his tie, fiddling with it.

“Might..” He pauses, looking down at his tie the best he can.

She chuckles breathlessly, hand reaching to to undo his tie, slipping it off him. His head lifts, eyes meeting hers. It was just then that she noticed how tousled his hair was, how flushed his cheeks were, his kiss-swollen lips parted. His glasses are slightly fogged up, crooked on his nose.

Damn.

She gently fixes his glasses, making his cheeks flush deeper. Her fingers loosen his shirt collar, unbuttoning a couple buttons, just enough to reveal his collarbone. Harry’s face subconsciously moves closer to hers, shamelessly waiting for her next move. Her lips latch onto his exposed skin, and she feels the shiver that goes through him, his breathing becoming uneven. She leaves soft kisses there, traveling down to his collarbone.

“Shit…” He breathes. “You’re-“ he inhales sharply when she sucks at a particular spot, his head moving to the side, absentmindedly giving her more access. “You’re killing me…”

“Come here,” He breathes out suddenly, oh so gently grasping her neck to bring her face close to his once again, their mouths hovering over each other. His eyes meet hers. “May I?” He whispers, green eyes through his slightly fogged glasses meeting hers.

She nods small, head leaning upward to meet his lips. He sighs against her mouth, kissing her softly but deeply. “I might just be addicted to you,” He whispers against her lips, between kisses, making her pounding heart skip a beat.

Her tongue darts out, poking at his bottom lip. Harry pants softly, lips parting to grant her access to his mouth. Their tongues brush against each other, neither of them knowing who’s saliva is who’s.

Harry whines against her lips, still panting between heated kisses. “You taste amazing,” He mumbles, sliding his knee between her legs, pushing upward.

She gasps soft against his lips.

He grins.

“Feel good, baby?” He murmurs, separating their mouths so he can press soft kisses to her face, feeling her hips start to squirm, searching for the delicious friction from his knee…

Runnin’ With My Dress Unbuttoned

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: Despite her parents’ strong protests about the dangerous Malfoys, she still finds love with their son Draco.

Warnings: Crying, broken heart, ANGST, yelling, fight between reader and parents, harsh parenting, all that scrumptious stuff lol

Note: Inspired by “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. For the wonderful @leonardo-dicappuchino! 🌷

I’m also VERY sorry for the too long break!! I’m back!! I would like to thank all my supports who are still with me. Hope you enjoy!! 😉

Masterlist

She always was the one out of the two of them that grew up with flowers outside fences and running around with lollipops in between her lips, tongue stained with the rainbow assortment of colors, while his life was anything but colorful.

She would often tell him about her childhood, a small glee in her eyes as she did so, telling him about her mother and father and how sweet her mother’s baked goods were. Sometimes he was lucky and she brought small bag of fresh baked cookies, her robes smelling of them the whole way to Hogwarts, hoping the scent wouldn’t spoil the surprise. (It would though, yet he didn’t bear to say anything because he liked the happiness dancing all over her face when she revealed her gift for him.)

But, of course, it wasn’t always sunshine behind closed curtains for him, for her parents never approved.

Surprisingly, the girl never knew her parents had such strong disapproval, not until she was about 11 years old and awaiting her father to come home from working at the hospital (her father and mother were both Muggle born but accepted her magic abilities reluctantly, yet at 11 she didn’t know much about how that was a problem for some people), looking at her “Famous Witches and Wizard Cards” from her Chocolate Frogs. Her father would always bring at least one home for her to see her excitedly open it to see who she got (she never knew how he got them, for he didn’t have access to them from the hospital of course, yet she liked to think it was the magic in him that was somehow there). She had about 4 Dumbledores and 6 Helga Hufflepuffs, even 7 Godric Gryffindors, but she was awaiting Salazar Slytherins, for she wanted to collect as many as she could for Draco.

They had met while shopping for supplies for 1st Year, for her parents were waiting for her to get measured for her robes, and Draco just so happened to be next to her.

At the time, her first impression was that he was a witty selfish boy who was spoiled from his parents’ riches, but her younger self knew better and looked beyond his snarl that seemed to be always on his lips.

“1st year as well I see?” She started a conversation, smiling softly at him as the a man worked around her, stretching out strands of measuring tape with his wand, muttering to himself.

Draco seemed to be disgusted that a Muggleborn was talking to him, yet he answered nonetheless. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m not a 6th year short for my age.”

He didn’t expect her to laugh, and present day Draco would always remember the noise, for it brought the little sparkle of color from her life into his. “You’re funny,” she mumbled, adjusting to her robes once they tested them out, and smiled kindly at the man who helped her.

He watched her walk away after her way too cheerful goodbye, slightly confused (yet strangely pulled in) at her attitude. She didn’t seem to be imitated towards him like all the other people were, for the whole way to the shop people kept glancing at him and his father, either that or scurrying to the furthest side of the street, trying to avoid crossing paths with them.

Her opinion of the boy stayed the same, yet started stirring throughout First Year, moving into their Second.

So, as one could see, she never was shown a reason to mistrust the boy and his family, not until her father and mother recently go invested in the Daily Prophet, therefore mumbling to each other before bed with the kitchen light on, her Hogwarts letter for her second year right next to them, and, as her 12-year old curious eyes watched them through her bedroom cracked door, she saw her mother’s eyes glance at it nervously, almost like it was a howler and it was gonna yell at her any second.

“Those Malfoys, always trying to do something…” her father mumbled, running on a rant that the girl couldn’t quite catch, for their voices were hushed to a whisper.

Her mother’s eyebrows have been creased for the whole conversation, and yet they seemed to furrow deeper as her eyes scanned an article in the newspaper. The girl could see form her bedroom the moving graphics of different wizards, waving at the reader or simply moving out of frame. “Another paragraph about them, honestly, what is that father of theirs planning?” Her father asked, a slight angry tone in his voice that the girl has never heard. He would always be gentle and sweet towards her, so hearing this was like looking into a window of a new side of him.

She also recognized Draco’s last name, and talk of his father. Was Draco’s father bad? She surely didn’t want Draco being influenced by this, yet as a young child she couldn’t imagine fighting against that.

But, in the midst of worrying about her (what felt to be) friend, she heard her mother say something that made her young beating heart twist.

“I don’t know if I want our pumpkin hanging out with him if his father is like…well, that. She’s told us about him and how they hang out, you know,” her mother spoke softly, yet worry laced her words, all towards her daughter who was (or what the mother thought) sleeping soundly in her bed.

Her father rubbed his forehead with his fingers, sighing softly, eyes still set on the paper in front of them. He glanced at her letter, then back again at the Daily Prophet.

“But you know how she was struggling to make friends her First Year, being a Muggleborn as they call it, how do you think she’ll react when we tell her she can’t hang out with the one person who actually is growing to like her?” Her father protested, finally tearing his eyes away from the article and to her mother’s face, staring fondly at her. Whenever her father looked at her mother this way, she deeply wished to Rowena that she would one day find love just that deep, for her heart yearned for it such so that she crossed her fingers tightly and wished upon every shooting star for it.

Her mother took her turn to sigh, placing her hand on his arm. “I know, but look at what he’s surrounded by at home, do you really want our daughter to grow up with that danger so close to her? Within arms reach?”

Her father shook his head and that was when her heart broke.

She couldn’t take it any longer, her fingers curving around the door and pushing forward, her nightgown swishing behind her as she practically raced to the table to meet their gazes.

“Don’t take him away from me, Pa, I promise I won’t let his father hurt him,” she protested, her loud voice breaking through the silent of the night like a sharp knife compared to their hushed whispers.

Her mother’s eyes widened, reflecting her father’s expression as well but he was the first to compose himself. “You’re supposed to be in bed, young lady.”

She whined internally. “I couldn’t sleep, besides, I heard you say Draco’s last name and I know all about what you said. Please don’t make me leave him, he’s the only friend I have.”

Her mother’s eyebrows that were raised up in shock bent down in a compassionate curve, eyes softening at her daughter’s openness towards her friendship with the boy. Her mother then opened her arms for her daughter, noticing her glossy eyes and cheeks that were growing flushed by the second, and, with a soft sob, the girl fell into her mother’s embrace, wetting her mother’s favorite blouse with tears.

Her father sighed as her mother stroked the her daughter’s hair, whispering soft assurances in her ear.

“It’s okay, we won’t make you leave him, okay? Just be careful,” she whispered, waving off her father who made a protesting gesture, but softened up when her mother pointed at their distressed daughter.

She pulled away from her mother’s embrace, wiping her nose softly with her finger. “Really?” Her tears seemed to disappear in an instant, and that was an interesting thing about children. They would quickly grow a red face, yet as soon as happiness gripped onto them once again, all signs of sadness would vanish.

Her mother stroked her hair out of her daughter’s face, and nodded. “Yes, sweetie, just remember what I said, okay?” When she got a eager nod in response she added, “now off to bed, little one, mamma and daddy love you very much. Good night.”

With that, the little girl gleefully slipped into bed, thoughts of giggling with Draco in the Great Hall filling her mind, mostly his smile that graced his lips.

——

Throughout the years, her parents disapproval didn’t waver, yet they didn’t completely break the two apart. Her parents were quite strict though of their friendship, like they couldn’t see each other during the summer and only had to communicate through owning, yet that was plenty enough for them. She would write pages upon pages to Draco explaining a bunch of Muggle related things she did while he would update her on the Daily Prophet news (her parents never allowed her to even graze her fingertips on that paper, for they didn’t want her to see what they called “adult wizard stuff she wouldn’t understand”.)

Yet she was 17 now, in her Sixth Year of Hogwarts, so she would completely understand the material written, but sometimes they treated her like she was still 12 years old.

But, to her great dismay, (not totally) she found herself looking at Draco more often than not, gazing upon him with the way her father looked at her mother. She would mostly look at his eyes, for they looked like the clouds before a storm, swirling grey in the sky making the green of the trees look brighter.

She would think of them before every storm, looking out the Ravenclaw window and seeing the sky growing dark grey, yet she would think of not the thunder, but Draco’s eyes.

She knew her parents already didn’t approve of their friendship, yet a relationship? It would be even worse.

On the contrary, she couldn’t help but secretly confess to the boy, watching his grey eyes she dearly loved swirl with adoration, intertwining their pinkies under the blankets as they locked lips, his tasting like fresh rain and hers morning sunshine.

They kept it hidden, which was clear of reason, since her parents would sent more than fifty howlers if they found out.

Yet they did find out somehow, finding her letters under her pillow of him declaring his love for her, the wax seal of the Malfoys oh so distinct-able.

“Why would you sneak into my room?!” She yelled as soon as she found out, glaring at the letter clenched into her father’s fist. It was strange to her, for when the letter arrived she was gazing at it with such love and apprectation and now she looked at it as if she wanted it to disintegrate. Her childhood father, her sweet, loving father, was nothing compared to the fire in his eyes as if he wanted to glance at the paper and burn it with his stare. She wanted it to disappear, yet she didn’t want it permanently gone.

“I knew you were hiding something, young lady- you are always walking around on the tip of your toes and acting like you just won the lottery!” Her mother screeched, and her parents weren’t recognizable to her. She didn’t see the mother who embraced her and promised they wouldn’t take Draco away, or her father who softened at her mother’s gaze. No, she now saw hardened hearts and daring gazes, all towards her.

“Am I not allowed to be happy?” She asked, waving her arms around as if to prove a point. Why were they so upset about this? Sure there were a few (more like millions) of rumors about Draco’s father and Draco himself, yet she chose to ignore those hushed voices. She saw Draco for who he was, not what the world set him to be.

“Of course you are, just not with people like him!” Her father cut in, letter crinkling with each clench of his fingers, not knowing her daughter’s heart was cracking with each one that was added.

“But I love him!” She shouted, the words being pushed out of her, because all she could speak at the moment was the truth. And it was true, she did love him, yet she couldn’t help but fall apart because her parents would never allow her to love freely.

“Love him? What a joke,” He muttered the last sentence, making her chest burn. Not only did he not believe her, but he was also laughing so coldly as if he believed that her feelings were something to be tossed around when he was bored. “You are just telling yourself that, you don’t know what real love is. Now, me and your mother don’t want you seeing that silly boy again.”

Her heart broke into two, and, looking at her mother for comfort, only saw a heartbroken case, yet her mother didn’t say anything.

Her lips quivered, tears threatening to spill over. She pointed at her mother, sudden anger breaking through her broken self. “You promised you wouldn’t take him away from me! Now look at what you’re doing. You’re a coward and a traitor,” she spat, now glancing at her father. “Both of you. You say all you want is for me to be happy, well you’re not doing such a good job at it, since you’re taken my happiness right out of my hands.” She paused to take a breath, wanting to say more, yet she couldn’t. Her breathed hitched when she tried to say another word, tears blurring her vision but she managed to race right out the front door, ignoring her father’s shouts and mother’s concerned yells at her; for her bare feet have already sprinted across the pavement outside, allowing her to fun freely along the streets.

The moon had just came out within the clouds, the darkness surrounding her as the cool night breeze blew through her hair strands.

In a strange way, she liked the cold and the way it seemed to bite her arms. It gave her something to feel besides the dread she had sitting in her chest, getting more comfortable by the second. She liked how it gave her something else to think about, and the breeze snuck into the gap of her dress, the piece of clothing unbuttoned as she ran to a destination she didn’t know the name of quite yet.

She soon saw a figure in the distance and she somehow knew just who it was, like he knew she was in need of him and came as soon as he heard her heart call out to him for help.

The blonde hair was unmistakeable on the foggy street, his eyebrows furrowed and she could see such features as she ran more urgently towards him.

“Dra-” she sobbed, arms reaching out to him as she crashed into his chest, tears already soaking up his dress shirt. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, grounding her, giving her something to feel as she felt her heart slowly tape itself up now that she was in his arms.

“Shh,” he hushed her, stroking her hair, nestling his face into her skin as he pressed soft kisses there, trying to get her spriling head that was in the clouds down to earth with him.

She hiccuped, shaking in his arms as she gripped his clothing like he was the only thing keeping her alive. She tried backing out of his embrace to look him in the eyes, vision blurry. “T-they said-”

“I know I know,” Draco whispered, gently pushing her head back into his chest as if he somehow knew what happened back at the house. And he really didn’t know, to tell the truth, but her never ending tears gave him the clearest answer he needed. And he tried to act like it didn’t crack his own heart in half, for he wanted to stay strong for her.

Circumspect And Wary

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: Ever since an incident during childhood, Draco is extra cautious around reader.

Warnings: Strong description of almost drowning, panic, young child almost dying, angst, protective Draco, description of faking death, mention of “villain” and “bad guy” if that’s even a warning lol but let me know if you find any more!! :)

Note: I came up with this idea from a very old TV horror show I used to watch so enjoy! (Twilight Zone)

Masterlist

Young innocent giggles filled the air, the two children chasing after one another, hiding behind trees with wide smiles across their faces, reddening their cheeks.

The day was foggy and sticky, yet the wind sometimes whipped around their heads, offering some soft of breeze through the air. Draco was currently chasing after his friend, a stick in his hand to resemble a wand, shouting out spells that didn’t exist, attempting to “curse” her as they called it.

Her laughter rang through he air, filling the empty space normally full of sadness and anger, yet whenever she came over to the Manor there seemed to suddenly be sunshine upon his heart.

He waved the stick with a flick of the wrist, shouting something she probably couldn’t hear, for the wind had picked up just as he began to speak.

What the wind didn’t cover up though, to his liking, was the giggles and the squeals spilling from her lips, the beautiful sound filling his ears.

“Draco stop!” She giggled out, stopping in front of him to take a breather, hand held out as if to stop him mid-run, left over laughter still slipping out of her mouth ever couple seconds.

Draco was glad to have taken a break, though he wouldn’t admit it, but he was out of breath as well. He smiled wide, bending over and holding his knees, heart pounding as his lungs took strong breaths in.

“I still won,” he said, breath surrounding his words.

She gasped, pointing at him as a knowing grin spread across his face. “No you did not! I was taking a break.”

Her protests were ignored by the boy beside her, shaking his head to excuse them making his white hair shake. “You chose to take a break, therefore you have given me a chance to do this,”

With that, he flicked the wand-stick- at her and said the first messed up word that came to his mind.

She fake gasped, eyes pretending to flutter shut like a person dying before falling onto the ground (of course she naturally caught herself before she could get hurt) and stuck her tongue out dramatically, spreading out her limbs to portray a dead corpse.

Draco laughed, eyes sparkling and dimples on his cheeks showing. He let out a fake evil laugh, looking up at the sky as if he was talking to a group of people after defeating the hero. “Yes! I have killed her, my mission has been accomplished.”

The girl laughed, sitting up from her “death” position before standing up. She grinned before swiftly attempting to grab the stick from his hand while he began to dodge it.

“Dracccoo,” she whined out, wiggling her fingertips at the stick that was just out of her reach. It wasn’t her fault that Draco was drastically getting taller than her, and her not catching up, therefore he had the advantage of holding it high out of her reach. “I want a turn being the bad guy, I’m always the hero.”

Draco smirked at her desperate child begs, stretching his hand that was holding the stick as far as he could, which wasn’t much further than the length he already had it at. “Just one more time? Then you can play villain.”

She lowered herself from her tip toes, looking spectacle at him. She seemed to shake around his offer in her mind, tilting her head from side to side as she weighed her options. “Fine, one more time, but you better kill me quickly because you’ve been villain all day.”

He grinned wide, nodding as he went to take his position. He didn’t make it far, half a step maybe, before a felt a sharp tug on the stick he was holding, and thank Merlin he instinctively squeezed the object before it was completely taken from him. He turned around quickly only to meet her eyes, hand still wrapped around the fake wand.

“No, it’s my turn,” she said, almost hissed as her colored eyes hardened with child like anger.

“Hey stop, you said I could do play villain one more time,” he protested, tugging the stick back towards him only for her to do the same, this time towards her.

“Yeah well I changed my mind- you always play bad wizard and now it’s my turn. It’s your mom who says to take turns,” she spoke back, yanking hard enough for his body to fling towards hers, before he composed himself and pulled back.

“Well then wait your turn,” he barked at her, tugging once again as if it would prove his point.

What the neither of them noticed was that they were edging closer to the lake that Draco had in his back yard, the water dark and still, fog floating over it as the water’s temperature was different than the air’s.

The two kids fought back and forth, oblivious to the danger they were approaching.

“I know you want to be the bad guy, but I want to do it one last time then you can have your turn,” Draco tried to reason, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to just give it to her. He was too stubborn for that, despite the argument being about something utterly useless.

“Yeah well I haven’t been villain all day, I still have mud on my butt from dying so many times, let’s see how you feel with some wet dirt on your perfectly clean clothes, shall we?”

Ignoring her wide range of vocabulary from reading so many books, Draco tugged back towards himself, his wrist touching his chest now. The stick wasn’t that long, about 12-14 inches, yet the space in between them felt larger at the second as their argument stirred harder. “Just one last time and you can have a turn,”

“You know what Draco? I’ve had enough of you constantly taking control of me when we play, you know I don’t like it when-”

He pulled on the stick.

Hard.

The branch ripped out her hands, most likely leaving irritated skin behind, yet that wasn’t what Draco was worried about.

He looked in horror as her eyes widened, body wobbling and, before he could take action, her body slipped on the wet earth and fell right into the dark water, surface quickly forming ripples and big splashes.

His head echoed with the scream that ripped from her lips, water splashing everywhere before he caught any glimpse of her body thrashing around, a strong look of pure panic on her face.

“D-Draco!” She yelled, arms waving around at the water frantically as she tried her best to stay afloat. “Help me I can’t swim!”

Draco’s chest pierced with fear, looking around as if he would find a vine to pull her up with. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he assured her over the splashing water, yet it felt more like he was assuring himself more than her.

“Draco!”

Her loud begs for help stapled themselves into his mind and he would never forget the cracking in her voice as her head was the only thing above the water. Her voice sounded like she was crying, and Draco couldn’t do anything to help her. He couldn’t swim either.

“Don’t worry, I’m coming to get you,” he said, stick long forgotten as his black shoes quickly got drenched in mud, water surrounding him as he went further towards her.

“Draco stop! You can’t swim either!” She protested, arms waving around with the same amount of urgency as she had when she first fell in.

“I know but I’m gonna try, hang on,” Draco responded, steadying himself on a slippery rock before he fell deep, water flooding his skin and clothes, sneaking into every crease of his being except his head.

He gasped, arms whipping around just like hers, yet he built up the courage to stop with one arm and reach for her, grabbing her hand and yanking her towards him, wet fingers against wet fingers, both with such urgency to be connected that it hurt.

“Draco,” she gasped, cheeks covered with both lake water and streaks of tears. She gripped onto him like a lifeline, despite him not knowing how to swim either, yet, with great effort, he managed to kick his way to the shore, close enough for her to climb out and help him.

His body slapped against the grass, clothes sticking to his skin and her hair dripping at the ends.

She quickly hugged him tight, gasping for air as if she had been under water, sniffling ever once in a while to keep the tears at bay.

Draco didn’t like hugs, he’d admit that, he thought that were overwhelming and too touchy, yet at this moment a hug was all he needed, his arms wrapping around her small child body, digging his face into her soaked shoulder.

“Mom?”

Three heads whipped at the voice, staring Draco right in the face as he stood there, trembling as water dripped onto the floor. His father’s stern eyes followed the droplets, anger written all over his face. “What’s this? You’re soaked. Get out Draco and clean yourself up,”

For once in Draco’s life, he ignored his father’s orders, instead his feet stayed put in the middle of the forming puddle on the ground, looking from his furious father to his confused mother.

“What is it, Draco?” She asked after sending a nervous glance at everyone attending the meeting, her fingers smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in her clothing.

Draco shifted his weight from one side to another, the water chilling his skin and making ever breath he took send a shiver of goosebumps over him. “It’s my friend,” he spoke finally. “She’s hurt.”

Narcissa’s eyes flickered with concern, worry towards someone who wasn’t even her child, yet whenever she was over Narcissa treated her as such. She sent a glance towards Draco’s father, who gave a snarl, yet she ignored it.

Politely excusing herself, Draco’s mother practically darted for the door, gently guiding Draco away from the meeting and letting him lead the way to his friend.

Narcissia was then met with the sight of Draco’s friend sitting on the floor of the living room in front of the fire place, the blazing flames providing comfort to her cold skin.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

The girl whipped around to see Narcissa gazing at her with such worry it made her chest squeeze, for she didn’t want to interrupt the important meeting just because she fell into the lake outside.

She wiped her nose, leaning into Narcissa’s touch that was gently on her shoulder. “I fell into the lake,”

Narcissa gasped softly, quickly getting a towel from the nearest bathroom and wrapping it around the little girl, whispering soft sweet assurances.

“It was my fault, mom,” Draco confessed, his friend looking at him with wide eyes that he was taking the blame and the confused eyes of his mother. “We got into a silly fight and I wasn’t watching where we were going. She tripped and fell in the water.”

“Draco-”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Malfoy,” the girl said, looking up at the women with as much assurance in her gaze as possible. “It was an accident.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you guys need to be more careful. You could’ve… well, you wouldn’t be with me right now if you hadn’t gotten out.”

Draco’s cheeks flushed even though his mother didn’t know he was the one who retreived his friend, despite his inability to swim.

“Oh you’ve got it all wrong, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco saved me, even though he couldn’t swim,” she spoke softly yet strangely formal. The professional tone didn’t match her facial expression one bit, for her left over tears weren’t quite gone, streaks still visible on her cheeks and glossy eyes looked up at his mother.

Narcissa looked at Draco, a flicker of worry on her face that her son had jumped willingly into a lake that he couldn’t swim in, yet he saw a flash of pride there along side the concern, making his chest swell.

“Oh Draco, that was greatly brave of you, wasn’t it, dear?” His mother smiled softly at his friend, and he was wondering if he could see that sight for the rest of his life, for he wanted the girl by his side at all times.

The girl smiled back, eyes still glossy but they had a spark of happiness in them alongside gratefulness. “Why yes it was.”

Three Years Later…

If one would look outside at the right time of the day, squint their eyes at the darkness of the night, they would spot two figures dressed in emerald green robes laying on the grass by the Black Lake, arms outstretched as they pointed out constellations to one another.

Draco had already spotted many of them but only said a few aloud, for he liked secretly looking at her from the corner of his eye and seeing the sparkle in her gaze when she spotted one, thinking he didn’t see it yet. And, once she pointed it out, he would look at the sky and act surprised. It was all worth the smile that would graze her lips.

They stayed there in silence for a while, looking at the darkening sky as the stars finally showed themselves.

“Did you know,” she spoke softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “that during the day the stars are still there, but the sun is too bright so you can’t see them?”

Draco shook his head, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to process the information. Stars were always something he thought magically appeared every night in the darkness, popping out like they were hidden behind a curtain during the day until it was their time to shine. Now he knew, they always shined, despite the biggest star preventing them form being seen. “No,” he whispered into the night. “I didn’t know that,”

She faked a gasp, looking at him. “Did I just teach thee Draco Malfoy something he didn’t know? I’m impressed.”

A smile fought at the corners of his lips, tugging as they tried to win, and they did somewhat, for a half grin spread across his lips.

A wide smile came over her own mouth, arms stretching as she stood up, walking towards the lake to see the moon’s reflection in the water’s ripples.

Draco’s natural instinct was to stand up as well, quickly moving to her side so she wouldn’t fall in.

It was then she decided to lean forward, pointing at something in the water. “Draco, look! I think there’s a frog-“

He pressed his arm across her chest, gently pushing her back from where the grass formed into lake. “Don’t go so close, will ya?”

She stopped mid-sentence, mouth still parted from speaking before she looked at him, making eye contact. A soft grateful smile met her lips as she grabbed his hand that was sill pressed to her chest and intertwined their fingers together.

“Thank you, Draco. I’ll be careful,” she assured him quietly, guiding him back to their spot by the tree.

As they laid down she slowly placed her head on his shoulder, just like he did the day he rescued her, his face in her wet shoulder and his arms around her upper half.

She then felt safer than she has ever felt, no longer felt like the water could consume her, not while Draco is there right by her side, and she couldn’t help but hope that he would stay for the rest of her life.

Masterlist (in case you want to read my stories)

Nothing Can Capture The Sting

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Reader tries to replace Harry after they break up, but nothing captures the feeling she has when she’s with him.

Warnings: Angst, crying, mention of break up, brief mention of being tied up (no description), kissing? Cho (is she a warning lol-), let me know if there’s any others!!

Note: I really need to write for Harry more often, he’s my favorite! So here’s to the Harry lovers. ;)

Now Playing: Sailor Song Gigi Perez

Masterlist

Requests closed :)

She stared at the boy across from her, his dimples and fluffy hair showcasing his beauty. He was pretty, in a way, and he was smart too since he was in dark blue robes. But she couldn’t help but doze off while he was telling her something about his Charms essay… or was it Potions? She didn’t quite place the subject, for her mind was thinking of other things.

He looked a lot like Harry, she observed. His hair was similar, fluffy and defiantly not properly taken care of- she wondered if it could resist even the strongest of charms, just like Harry’s? And if she looked harder, she could tell he was basically an off brand of Harry. The two boys had the same eye color, despite Harry’s being brighter to her, and their dimples were oh so noticeable when they smiled.

The main difference between the boys was Harry had glasses, the boy in front of her didn’t. She placed them on him in her mind though, picturing him with the round rimmed lenses around his green eyes, adding an imaginary sparkle to them while she was at it.

She felt bad doing these things, changing the boy’s image in her mind when she was trying to move on. How dare she, changing his face while he was talking to her, smiling like he’s finally met the girl he’s been looking for?

“-did Snape give you detention yesterday too? And he said no, which was okay, but at the same time he did the same thing as me! I swear, Snape hates everyone but the Slytherins-”

Harry didn’t ramble.

He normally just complained and muttered to himself, but never rambled to her. He would most of the time let her ramble to him, yet he spoke openly about not being bothered by it, for he liked the sparkle in her eyes while she talked about something she liked… most likely another romance Muggle novel she read.

She have had finished one recently, not like she had any interest talking to him about it, for she couldn’t help but picture Harry instead.

What would he do if he was here?

If he was here, she was gonna be honest here, if Harry was here (and she pictured it so detailed that it hurt her chest) he could be leaning his head against the table with his arm, glasses crooked as he softly smiled at her, letting her know he was listening, running the tip of his finger around the top of his Butterbeer. The drink would still be around his lips, and every now and then his tongue would stick out and grab little by little before bringing it back into his mouth.

The image was so familiar to her, so comforting, that her brain stuck to it for the rest of the time the boy- was his name Robert?- told his story about how unfair Snape treated other Houses besides Slytherin. But who knows, though, had he moved onto another subject, or was he still rambling on about the same thing?

And, as she was walking back to the castle with his cold hand in hers, she couldn’t help but feel Harry’s splintered hands instead, imagining his thumb running over her skin in the most comforting way.

Yet Robert had no idea. How could he?

“I had fun today,” he said, bringing her out of her thoughts once again. “Care to do this again?”

She looked at him, matching his smile but the only difference was that his wasn’t forced. The eye contact she made with him was the first time she looked at him properly, taking in his genuine smile and how he seemed to actually like hanging out with her.

“Sorry, I don’t think it will work out,” she whispered, surprised he heard her with all the snow blowing around them. His curved up lips turned into a frown fairy quickly, reaching up to scratch his head in confusion.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I understand,” he said, a slight hint of disapointment waved in his voice. “See you around?”

The tone in his voice, whatever it was, she didn’t catch it but at that moment it didn’t matter to her, for she already gazed off, thinking of another while Robert walked away, the frown on his lips still present.

“You know, my father says that sadness isn’t permanent, that it is like life testing us before it gives us good things.”

The girl was sitting on a tree branch outside of Hogwarts, the breeze going through her knotty hair. Luna was next to her, drawing silly doodles in her notebook with colored markers piled in her robes. Blue was smeared all over the side of her palm, for she accidentally touched the marker’s ink before it dried. Luna had a fancy towards Muggle art supplies, and the girl was more than glad to lend her friend her things, for it was all worth seeing the glee sparkling in Luna’s eyes.

The girl had told Lina about her precious date and how it went terribly wrong for her (yet again) and amazing for him, only for her to say it wouldn’t work out.

The girl hummed at the saying her father once said, looking over at Luna and giving her a grateful smile. “Thanks Luna, but I’m not sad… well, I can’t lie to you. I’m nothing without him.”

Luna hummed right back, glancing upwards for a spit second before turning back to her drawing. It was of those creatures she often spoke of, the animal the you can only see if you’ve seen someone die. The girl couldn’t remember the name, for Luna has only said it once or twice, too busy saying fun facts about them that the girl couldn’t have time to slip in the question of their title.

“I miss Harry too, he avoids me in the corridors. The only time I get to see him is if I’m looking for my shoes that people hide. Which is often,” Luna mutters, voice almost blending in with the wind as it blows past them both. The girl swings her legs, feeling the prickly bark beneath her calves. She was weirdly grateful for the feeling, for it gave her something to bring her back to earth when her mind wondered off with thoughts of Harry and his bright green eyes she missed looking into.

“Do you think I’ll ever get him back?” The girl wondered suddenly, looking over at the Quidditch Pitch, seeing maroon robes flying around on brooms as they practiced. Normally, she would wait in the Gryfindoor Common Room for Harry, reading a Muggle book she was recently gifted or an old classic she loved re-reading, all until a certain Raven-haired boy entered the room. No matter how tired she would be, she would sit down on the couch and await his return.

Her body soon missed that, for now as she lays in bed wide awake for about an hour, awaiting for sleep to take her away.

It’s because Harry was such a big part of her life, her routine, that once he left it was like someone took the middle piece of her puzzle, ruining the big picture because of the obvious space there.

“Maybe, who knows,” Luna murmured back, reaching over and grabbing her friend’s hand for support. “Sometimes the universe gifts us people to hang onto, then takes them away. It may feel like torture, but it’s all for a reason. I know you’re probably used to hearing those words, and before you ask I don’t know the reason, but I do know that in the end all the tears will be worth it.” Luna was practically whispering, like the words she was saying were a secret only them two could witness, yet the soft hushed tone from Luna was comforting towards the girl, and she was forever grateful for her friend just then.

She responded with a gratitude- filled smile, squeezing Luna’s hand right back. “Thanks, Luna.”

Luna smiled at her, this one bigger than the previous one she expressed. “Anytime.” Then the sympathetic glint in her eyes turned to a teasing glitter. “Now, let me get back to my drawing, I haven’t finished it yet!”

She leaned her big book against the orange juice jug, already moving her eyes along the pages first thing in the morning. She liked to start her morning with some calm reading, ignoring the chatter of students around her. Her breakfast laid perfectly on her plate, for she had previously served herself, yet she knew that she wasn’t going to eat much anyway.

Normally, Harry’s glittering green eyes would peak in front of her hair that was hanging in her face from beside her, wiggling his eyebrows as he tried to crack a smile on her grumpy morning face. It would always work, yet sometimes now in the present she could find her brain tricking herself into thinking Harry was back next to her, forcing her to turn her head sideways only to find an empty bench seat.

She would do this every couple minutes, even though she knew it would be a trick, yet her heart hoped that he would magically be there for real that time.

Maybe one more glance, she asked herself, and he will be there? Maybe the flickering lights of the Great Hall won’t trick me this time?

But it all ended the same, for Harry didn’t sit next to her anymore but instead next to Ron and Hermonie on the other side of the Gyrfinndor table; it’s like he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

She found herself staring longer than she should’ve, getting lost in the beauty of his profile and how he smiled while talking to Ron…probably about something stupid like Quidditch.

“They say it takes more muscles to frown than it takes to smile.”

She turns, facing two copy and pasted red haired Weasleys, both with matching grins that automatically made her day a little brighter (she still didn’t know how they did it).

Her frown deepened. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Fred- no George- shrugged with one shoulder. “Who said we were ‘they’?”

She felt her frown turn upwards a tiny bit, and the twins took it as a victory, for their grins widened.

“There it is, George, our job here is done.”

George smiled wide in response and turned at the same time as Fred to leave, both bodies spinning on their bottoms.

The girl reached for Fred’s forearm, —ignoring the dangerous wobble of the orange juice in the jug—gripping the robes that covered it. “Wait.”

Both twins shared a look before glancing back at her, settling back down in their seats (the hesitation before doing so didn’t go unnoticed by her).

“H-” she sputtered. “Has Harry said anything to you two? You know, since what happened?”

She found herself digging her fingernails into her wrists out of nervousness after she retracted her hand once she knew they weren’t going to leave.

They sighed in unison, leaning forward and lowering their voices.

“-I heard Lupin talking to Harry-”

“-wasn’t sure what about though-”

“-obviously about her what are you on about-”

“-you never know-”

“-ignore him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Lupin was talking to Harry about how he seems off lately-”

“-lost his good luck charm I presume-?”

“-no that wasn’t it-”

“-oh I know what it is go and tell her, Fred-”

“-Harry seems to be doing…better than usual-”

“-first to give Slughorn his potion-”

“-first to show up at Quidditch practice, besides Wood of course-”

“-has caught the Snitch at every single one I must tell you-”

“-and, surprisingly, I heard that he’s asked Cho to-”

The girl felt her guts twist into an uncomfortable knot. “Well it seems like he’s doing just fine without me,” she interrupted, legs wobbly as she stood up from the bench, grabbing her book and bag with shaky hands.

Fred and George didn’t seem to notice her exit after the statement, for they soon got into a mini argument about which is better: the lemon tarts or the apple pie.

Tears pricked her eyes as she left the Great Hall.

Of course Harry had moved on already. It was no surprise, since he broke up with her and seemed to run off as quickly as he could, almost like while they were dating she had him tied up.

Frustratingly wiping the on-coming tears, she hurried to Defense Against The Dark Arts, a class she shared with Harry (both fortunately and unfortunately).

She entered the classroom, the heavy feeling still present in her chest.

She tried to ignore her brain repeating the twins’ words about Harry- how did they put it?- “doing better than usual”.

Sitting down, she took her quill, parchment, and ink out only to discover something was missing in her bag. Her book was missing. She must have left leaning on the orange juice jug.

“Merlin help me,” she mumbled, groaning softly to herself and brain already coming up with a plan to retrieve it. She’ll have to get it on her way to Divinations, even though it’s all the way in the tower at the top of the school.

She was focusing on unrolling her parchment for notes when she heard someone clear their throat beside her, and, looking up, she saw the brightest green eyes she had ever seen.

Her breath caught in her throat, heart stumbling on it’s beats. He had an interesting expression on his face, an awkward smile upon his lips.

His hands held up her thick book, holding out to her as if he was afraid of its touch. “Um.. you left this.”

“Oh,” she breathed stupidly, reaching out and grabbing the book from him, painfully noticing how he was avoiding any accidental contact of their hands. “Thank you, Harry.” His name fell out of her lips far too easily, and it tasted so familiar on her tongue that it hurt.

His lips didn’t waver, nor did they widen, still nor did they part to speak. He walked away fairly quickly, and the way her vision blurred, the colors of his robes and dark hair blurring together in her eyes didn’t go ignored.

Something rushed through her, a hot, embarrassed flush rising to her cheeks and washing all over her body.

It felt unnecessary to cry, for he was doing a nice deed, but maybe it was the fact he didn’t say anything, avoiding any additional second of interaction so he could get away faster. It hurt to think back on how fast he was to leave; it was a shame on how she kept purposely thinking about it. His facial expressions. His hands avoiding contact.

It was like she was a disease he didn’t want to catch.

She ignored her wet eyes for the rest of the lesson, scrubbing notes down on how Mars is helpful for discovering what the future holds.

That night she had a strange dream. It had her rolling around, sleeping body confused on what her brain was doing to her, yet if one would see the soft smile on her lips they would then know it wasn’t a nightmare.

Her dream self was walking in the corridors with no shoes on, her socked feet quiet on the ground. It was strangely cold yet she was wearing short sleeves, her hands rubbing her arms to keep them warm. She didn’t know where she was going, at least she sleeping self didn’t, but her dream self did.

She travelled to an empty classroom, turning the dust covered doorknob and the space so dusty that not only was it imbedded it the corners of the walls, but it was also floating in the air, yet she didn’t cough.

In front of her was a mirror, and the only reasons she noticed it was because of the moonlight shining on its reflective surface as well as it being the cleanest item in the room; its shiny surface standing out generously.

Her dream self furrowed her eyebrows, and if one would look at her awake self they would see her actual brows furrowed, almost like she was having a bad dream.

Yet it was only out of confusion and curiosity, for she was wondering why the mirror was there.

She walked over to it, planning on touching the surface to see if it was as smooth as it looked. It didn’t have a single fingerprint on it.

As she reached out though, she caught her reflection in the mirror, and, looking up, met her own eyes.

She stared for a couple seconds before someone came up behind her, smiling as they made eye contact.

It was Harry.

Standing right there, holding her hand in his, the grip so genuine it made her want to smile.

She whipped her head around, begging for it to be true. “Harry-”

No one was there.

Just dust floating in the moonlight, and somehow the sight made her chest squeeze.

It looked so clear. So real. Like just looking at his hand holding hers made it feel like his skin was actually touching her. Why could she see him in the mirror, yet not beside her?

“Ahh, you saw Harry?”

This time there was someone there, Albus Dumbledore in all his silver beard glory, light blue robes on his body and sparkling eyes behind half-moon spectacles.

“Professor Dumbledore.”

He smiled at her in greeting, walking towards her slightly, leaning against the wall closest to her and slowly sitting down, crossing his legs like a preschooler sitting on the carpet, waiting to hear the teacher’s story. He didn’t say anything, just patted the floor beside him as an invitation.

Though hesitant, she moved away, away from the view of Harry in the mirror, and sat down next to him, reflecting his pose.

It was silent for a couple beats before Dumbledore’s soft voice broke it. He turned to her, smiling. “I see you’ve found the Mirror of Erised.”

Her head perked up, eyebrows raised. “What does it do?” She wondered, already thinking of possible reasons she saw Harry of all people in it.

“Ah, I thought you’d never ask,” Dumbledore said sarcastically, folding his hands in his lap. “When one looks into the mirror or Erised, they see their deepest and most secret desire.”

“So you’re saying that Harry is my deepest desire?” She asked, and her heart beat quickened when Dumbledore’s smile turned into a soft grin.

“I didn’t say that,” he reminded quietly, his voice smooth and gentle. “But it is you that has implied it.”

“I-” she hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should tell him her dilemma. “Me and Harry broke up, Professor. And I… I guess I miss him.”

The confession was both a little embarrassing and reviving the finally tell. The words felt stupid, yet she was relived that she could finally discuss with someone about it.

Dumbledore eased her embarrassment instantly when his lips stretched into an understanding smile. “Ah, young love, do they call it?” He asked, making her smile softly at him. “But you and I both know that deep down you can’t stay in sorrow forever, you must act upon it, take courage and do what you feel is right. You are in Gryffindor for a reason,” he explained. And the way he spoke, the way he put words together to comfort her, was enough to warm her insides.

“Thank you, Professor,” she said, getting up to leave, and he stood up as well, looking down at her gently smiling.

“Of course,” he almost whispered. “Now off to bed, little one, you don’t want Prefects discovering you were here.”

She bid him goodnight as well, turning to leave, before she turned back, eyes with a hint of curiousity. “Professor?”

He turned to her, smiling as a signal for her to continue.

“Is this real?” She asked. “Is this a dream? Is it happening inside my head?”

His smile didn’t waver as he smoothed out his robe sleeves, as they were rolling up naturally. “Of course it’s happening inside your head. Why should that mean that it’s not real?”

The girl woke up in a strange daze, mind fuzzy and she tried to recall the dream she had. It felt real, yet she had this distinct feeling it was all a dream, despite what Dumbledore said.

Yet, as she looked at her fingertips, she still had a hint of dust coating them from the dusty doorhandles of the classroom.

Ever since she woke up that day, she’d been thinking about Dumbledore’s words, advising her to do the thing she thought was right.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint which other she should take, since she had many options what she could do. Well, at least many options on how she should chase Harry down and force him to talk to her. At least then he could say how he was really feeling, good or bad.

1. Tell Hermonie that a friend of his said to meet him in the library, yet it is her.

2. March across the table and grab him by the ear. (Lower on the list but still an option)

3. Walk up behind him and whack him in the head with the very book he returned to her

At the end of her list, she decided that all of them were complete rubbish and she should properly offer him a chat between them.

So, when she left the Great Hall that morning, (glancing at Harry as often as possible, just as usual but this time felt different) she chose to chase him down in the corridors. They had a free period in the morning, which was rare, but nice and the perfect time to talk to Harry; no excuses about having to be in class.

And Dumbledore was right, she thought as she marched towards the dark haired boy and his friend with the reddest hair imaginable. She was in Gryffindor for a reason. She could do this, right?

Just as she was about to quit, she realized she was already so close to them so why not go with it?

Grabbing his robe sleeve, she yanked the boy outside in the courtyard onto the grass away from Ron. His protests were ignored as they moved further away from him, and he didn’t bother to interupt their upcoming conversation.

“Wha-”

His voice cut off as she led him to the boys dormitories, practically dragging the poor boy up the stairs and opening his door, closing it once they both entered.

She placed him in front of her, making eye contact for the first time of their interaction.

“Harry, I need to talk to you, if you will,” she requested, keeping her voice steady. She then realized she was still holding onto his robes, and, with a soft stroke to ease the possible wrinkles, she took her hand away, cheeks slightly flushed.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, hands fidgeting by his sides. “Okay.”

She was a little surprised that he wasn’t arguing against her, just standing there shrugging like it was no big deal (then again he could’ve fought back the whole journey to his dorm but he let himself be dragged). Was the girl that he broke up with talking to him not meaning anything to him? Was he that over her that he could look at her and not feel anything?

The thought made her chest squeeze, yet she stood her ground and made eye contact with him once again. “I-”

She hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers just like he was. She was going to be honest, she had the confidence to walk up to him and take him to a private place, yet now that she thought about it, she never planned out what she was going to say.

He raised his eyebrows questionably, waiting her to say something.

She gave him a nervous smile, wiping her now sweaty palms on her robes. “I’ve…..missed you.”

Harry took a sharp intake of air, licking his lips and looking away from her quickly. He practically looked anywhere but her.

“You shouldn’t,” he said simply, leaning his weight on one leg to the other.

She suddenly felt tears arise in her eyes but she blinked them away, looking at the sky for a moment to keep them held at bay. Maybe it was what he said that brought the unwanted tears, yet she deep down knew it was because he couldn’t relate to her feelings. He didn’t miss her like she missed him, and what he said showed that.

“I know,” she almost whispered, voice so quiet like it always was when she wanted to cry.

“Good,” Harry murmured, and he started to walk around her towards the door, ready to turn the handle, giving flashbacks to her dream, grabbing the dusty doorknob-

“Wait, Harry,” she said, reaching out against her own accord, gripping his robe sleeve so hard he must have felt like he was being yanked then being held back.

He looked over his shoulder at her, slowly turning to face her yet her hand still stayed on his sleeve. He was met with her blurry eyes, tears streaming down her face silently. Her lips were parted, almost like she was gasping for air.

“I can’t help but miss you because there’s no-one like you, Harry,” she started. “I’ve tried to date other people, going on dates, sitting across from them but I’m only picturing your face instead of theirs. I- I love you, Harry. And there’s no one out there that I will love the same way I love you.”

Harry stood there, his robes still in her hand and his own wrapped around the door handle. His fingers left the object slowly, stepping forward making her arm not have to reach over so much to keep him from leaving.

His lips adjusted themselves, then parted while he figured out what to say. “I..I can’t be with you,” he spoke, almost whispering, and the sentence both broke and healed her at the same time.

“Yet Cho can be with you?” She couldn’t help but snap back, and tried to ignore the way he stepped back, a surprised look on his face.

“Cho? What does she have to do with this?”

“Fred and George told me you asked her to the Yule Ball, so don’t ask other girls out to dance with you if you say right now that you can’t be with me. It’s hypocritical.”

The anger in her voice was obvious, tear streaks still sticky on her cheeks yet her eyes weren’t as wet as they were previously. Now her eyebrows were bent in frustration towards him, all the unanswered questions piling up.

“You want to know why I asked her? It was because all I could think about was you. Every morning when I wake up and before I close my eyes to sleep at night, every thought is overturned by you. And I’ve tried to distract myself with school work, and you may have noticed, but nothing works. Even Cho can’t replace you,” Harry huffed out, shoulders going up and down slowly as he took in breaths.

“Then why did you break things off? It seems like we both feel the same way,” she pointed out, her heart sputtering at the thought of him thinking about her all the time, yet why did he break her heart if that was the case?

Harry took a deep breath, walking up to her and grabbing her hands, bring them up to his lips as he gently kissed her knuckles. She felt like she was a flower and he was trying not to wrinkle her bloomed petals.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt, I am the fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament, and everyone is siding with Cedric, meaning that everyone hates me. I didn’t want to hate to aim towards you, so to protect you I broke us apart,” Harry whispered, looking into her eyes and trying to find a speck understanding, a spark of hope brewing in his chest, hoping that she would now see the reason he left her and take it as a valid one.

She did understand, but confused at the same time on why he didn’t choose to communicate. “Harry, in a relationship there is two sides, you and me. When there’s an issue on one side they discuss the issue with the other person, as you should with me. And I understand if you want to protect me, for I want you to be protected more than anything else, Harry, but we have to talk to each other,” She explained gently, and she was running her fingers through his hair at the base of his neck. His eyes behind his glasses were closed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with every stroke she made with her hand.

“I…I didn’t want to lose you- you mean everything to me,” Harry whispered, his green eyes opening as he said this, glittery eyes looking at her making his statement much more meaningful than it already was.

Her heart must of stopped, a pause of nothing that she could feel expect pure love towards the boy in front of her. Messy hair and all, she loved every part of him.

“You won’t lose me,” she whispered. She then smiled softly, moving her hands from his hair to his collar of his shirt, pulling him in by it, and kissed him. His lips tasted just like she remembered, and it felt like water finally reaching through the dam, a mix of emotions her heart could nearly handle. His lips were soft and gentle against hers, pressing back with as much love he could muster. Her heart felt like a blooming flower, Harry being her sunlight that was needed for her petals to expand.

She pulled away, his head almost instantly dipping into her neck to kiss the skin there with soft touches. “I love you, you know that right? I’m sorry I hurt you; it was the last thing I ever wanted.”

Each word was murmured into her hair, the strands preventing his voice to be fully heard, yet she could tell- feel- that he meant every word.

She turned her head and gave him a long kiss on the cheek, feeling his skin tingle under her lips.

“I know, Harry. Im just glad we worked it out.”

And she was, that was for sure, for now she had Harry back.

AHHH THANK YOU YOURE SO SWEET I TRY. ☺️☺️🥰💕

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Series Summary: Everything that your write on your skin shows up on your soulmates skin, and Draco happens to bear annoying drawings on the back of his hand. All from her.

PLEASE NOTE: Warnings vary, so check out each one for details!

Author’s Note: Everyone loved the first and second one, so I decided to make it a series! I really hope you guys enjoy because I want the effort to worth it. :)

(Part One is first one listed, then goes down from there)

A Copy Of A Copy- Whatever is drawn on your skin shows up on your soulmates skin.

•

Skin To Skin- The aftermath of Draco knowing who his soulmate is, yet he can’t bear to face her.

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Crossed Fingers- What starts from taking a test in Transfiguration turns to her finding out who her soulmate is, the tension grows, and something more. (SOON!)

•

PART FOUR LINK- SUMMARY

Charming at First but You Made me Depressed

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader -Oliver Wood x fem!reader

Summary: Draco talks too much about himself, forming a problem between him and Reader.

Warnings: Break up, ego centric Draco, depressed reader, crying, let me know if there’s any others! :)

Note: There is no part two, and no they don’t get back together, as requested. I hope y’all enjoy!!

This is inspired by the Laufey song “Bored”

This is for the wonderful @willowydreams! I’m extremely sorry for the late response!! But I still hope you like it! 🫶🏻

He was talking about himself.

Again.

Now, normally she wouldn’t mind this, for she would gaze upon him with such loving eyes that anyone who looked at her would instantly know that she admired him beyond compare. And she would always admire him in some way; some bigger than others.

But this particular thing, the one thing that’s continuously occurring, that thing being the topic of conversation being him, was too overwhelming that it got boring. It was okay once in a while, since everyone had those moments where they needed someone to talk to about personal things, but every time she entered the Great Hall? Wondering to herself if she could finally talk about the stress she’s been feeling? That itself wasn’t okay. People, at least in her opinion, shouldn’t ‘wonder’ if they were gonna be able to discuss their feelings with their partner. She should feel free to do so, just walk up to him and tell him she desires to talk alone.

She’d been thinking about being in Draco’s arms ever since she woke up that morning, and the fact that he was almost acting like she wasn’t even with him was burning a hole in her heart, like a cigarette to a couch cushion. I mean, realistically, she was there and he knew that, but the glee in his eyes that are practically sparkling made her feel like she was invisible and instead replaced with his reflection. When he looked at her, did he see himself? Did he use her eyes as a mirror and flicked his hair to make sure it played right on his head? Or was he actually looking at her eyes, like she had a beating heart within her chest, like his lover?

“Hey,” his voice broke through her mind, the thoughts surrounding the idea of him not even caring about her side of the relationship. Mind as make out with a mirror at this rate. “Are you listening to me?”

The slight snarl in his voice revealed the annoyance he was feeling at the moment and it made her heart twist, temporarily breaking her ability to breath. She cleared her dry throat and met his grey eyes that were swirling with slight irritation; to think that he would be concerned if she wasn’t listening, like something was preventing her from doing so (which there was) but instead he was worried about her not listening. Her chest squeezed.

“Yeah, sorry,” her voice cracked slightly but the smile she gave him convinced him enough. “I’m listening. What were you saying? Your father got a raise last week?”

He scoffed, adjusting his ironed robes that folded over on his arm. “No, course not- I was talking about what Marcus said about me during practice yesterday. Why aren’t you keeping up?”

She shrugged. “I’m sorry, you talk about a lot of things… mostly about yourself.”

The last part was unheard on his end, for the annoyance didn’t seem to wipe off his expression. “Well you better. Who else am I going to tell all my accomplishments?”

The question made her respond with a fake smile but made it as genuine as possible. And Draco being Draco, just had to see a turn up of her lips and read it as happiness, not a fake upturn of the mouth. It often made her struggles easy, like she didn’t have to worry about him finding out of how she felt, but on the downside he would never know.

“True true. Um, you know, speaking of Quidditch practice, Oliver said that-“

“Ugh, Wood again? What does he want? You know, my captain is much better, he actually prepares us? And speaking of my team, I happened to do something amazing at practice yesterday if you want to hear about it…”

As he told the story for a second time, the girl sighed and leaned her head against her hand, elbow on the table beside her cold food that she couldn’t touch.

She ended up feeling a slight twist in her stomach, a voice in her head telling her to stop his stupid perfect mouth from talking about himself for once, and tell him about what Oliver said to her about joining Quidditch. She ended up listening, leaning back and straightening her spine, chin pointed upward as she prepared herself to stand up to her lover.

“D-draco, please,” she almost whispered, and almost instantly he stopped talking and looked over to see her eyes looking directly at his, eyebrows raised in a desperate manner. It was quite the different expression compared to the normal one she held while listening to his stories, her lips turned in a soft smile while he told his tales. It made his own eyebrows furrow in conflicting, wondering why she was acting this way all of a sudden. “C-can I tell my story first? Then you can tell yours,” she ended her suggestion with a small smile, this time genuine and full of desire to tell her story before his.

But little did she know Draco somehow felt offended by this request, his lips turned in an offended frown before his eyebrows changed from confused to angry.

“W-what-? Tell your story first- no, that simply won’t do,” he started and missed the way her smile dropped instantly into a frown, eyes blurring. “I was telling my story and you interrupted me. You know that’s disrespectful.”

Her mouth parted, eyes blurring with tears that she desperately didn’t want to shed in front of him. “Right, sorry,” she mumbled, and looked down at her plate again so he wouldn’t see her growing tears. He didn’t seem to read her that well, as per usual, and continued the story.

Of course she didn’t listen, mostly because she heard it a thousand times before, but partly because he didn’t deserve her attention, not after he denied to give her his for once.

So she was silenced of her wish and she hoped that she would find somebody one day that would listen to her stories like never before, smiling softly as she told them what she did at Potions that day, or how she snapped back at Marcus Flint for bullying some First Year. She found herself dreaming about suddenly breaking up with Draco and finding somebody else, somebody who had brown hair and hazel eyes that sparkled when somebody mentioned the sport he liked, or how he gazed in the window of shops before school even started, already hoping to gain enough money to get the most recent broom ever made. She pictured herself lying in a bed covered in maroon colored sheets and smiling up at the ceiling while she told a story about herself for once, feeling free to tell her partner whatever came to her mind without judgment. And, when her dreaming self looked over to the person laying beside her, he didn’t have white hair or grey eyes, nor a snarl upon his lips, for he was quite the opposite. So much so that it made a smile curl to her lips, smiling down at her plate as Draco’s words blended in her brain, paying no mind to the reality boy sitting beside her, instead picturing another in her own mind.

“Finally joined the Quidditch team, I see? What were you, a plan B?”

The voice was oh so familiar, having a little chuckle hint to the end of the sentence and as she turned away from the sight of her broom and gloved hands, she laid her eyes upon her ex- boyfriend, leaning against his own broom as a couple of other Slytherin players gathered around him once they discovered there was commotion brewing on the pitch. All had a similar smirks laying on their lips, small (almost forced) chuckles escaping their mouths as if Draco was glaring at them, forcing them to laugh as if everything that he uttered was the funniest thing ever.

She rolled her eyes, not having a speck of feeling within her chest, now that everything was over. She often thought back to what occurred the past year, and the same feeling stirred inside her. It was the feeling of freedom, like the bonds around her wrists that were oh so tight finally were torn off her, harsh white slender fingers holding the key was finally handed to tan softer hands, smiling like broom polish and pitch grass, carefully grabbing her hands as he finally freed her from the bonds that held her down, free to wrap her hands around his neck in thankfulness.

Just as she was thinking of a comeback, she felt a familiar pair of gentle hands on her shoulders, rubbing her neck swiftly before softly pushing her behind him, making her stand on her tip toes to see Oliver’s expression towards Draco.

She smiled softly, for she was immensely grateful to see him at a time like this, for she didn’t like people making comments about her worthiness on the Quidditch team. And, of course, Oliver knew that, and he was always there behind her shoulder, softly touching them and making sure (silently, for the most part) that her spot was well earned.

“Got a problem, Malfoy? At least she didn’t buy her way in, unlike you. She got in on pure talent, something you seem to lack,” Oliver said, and the girl giggled from behind his shoulder at the sight of Draco’s smirk turning into a snarl.

“Oh, you got a little boyfriend to defend you now? Interesting how quickly you replaced me,” Draco snapped back, and it was then that she revealed herself from Oliver’s back, a frown on her lips expressing how unfair that was. She wasn’t replacing him, she was instead provided herself with the love she deserved, and what she was receiving in the present was totally different than the love she was being given back then.

“It’s easy to find people who actually care about me, it’s like I had to try hard to find a horrible stuck up selfish person like you,” she spat, looking at his cold eyes that she used to admire.

Draco seemed to have smoke coming out of his ears, and everything seemed to happen so fast. At first she saw him handing his broom to someone beside him and his angry upward lips, next she saw Oliver on the ground on top of the boy, pale face not so pale with the deep red liquid running down his nose.

Oliver seemed to be angrier than Malfoy, arms swinging until the blood was all that he could see, ignoring the busted lip of his own.

He gripped Malfoy by the front of his robes, picking up with such ease that it shocked the girl, the lanky boy looking stronger than he looked with years of the sport on him. Their noses barley touched, Oliver’s bloody lip parted in a snarl and he spoke through his tightly put together teeth. “If you insult my girlfriend again, look at her, think about her, Merlin, even breath in her direction, I will do much, much worse.”

For the first time in the girl’s life, she saw Draco Malfoy scared. Fear lit up his eyes and he nodded quickly when Oliver asked if he understood. Oliver seemed content with the fear flashing in the Slytherin’s eyes before dropping him on the ground of the pitch, sand pooling around in every crack of the boy’s robes, before his body scurried upright, turning to run away from the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

The boy took off, running away from the pitch with his goons not too far behind him yelling something about his father hearing about what happened as soon as he was free from Oliver’s grip. The girl’s mouth was agape, everything occurring in a blur that she stood in shock, not wanting to interfere with the violence between the two boys, yet she didn’t want her boyfriend getting hurt.

She took him by the arm, his gaze still looking off into the direction that the Slytherins took off in, despite them being out of sight. She cupped his cheeks and turned his attention back to her eyes, hazel eyes meeting hers. Only hers were swirling with concern, while his still soft remains of anger.

“You didn’t have to punch him,” she murmured, still feeling like his full attention wasn’t with her, so she decided to stroke his cheeks with her thumbs, watching as his gazed off eyes were refocused onto her again.

His jaw twitched within her hands. “He was making you upset, what choice did I have?”

She scoffed but felt a little smile creep upon her lips. “Oh I don’t know, don’t punch him?”

His soft hazel eyes rolled, annoyance making his lips twitch, almost like he was still thinking about what Draco said. “Well let me rephrase that, I didn’t have to, I wanted to.”

The response made her cheeks flush, but she tried to ignore it with a simple shake of the head, grabbing his hand and leading him off the pitch so she could clean his knuckles.

“Ollie?”

“Yes, love?”

She hesitated, eyes still lingering on his blood stained hands. She was cleaning them with a wet rag, slowly wiping off the red stains that lingered on his skin. “I know I seemed upset earlier, but thank you.”

Hello!!! Thank you so much for the praise on my stories, it really means a lot to me. I’ve already written a story where it’s like this, so I don’t think I’m gonna write another with the same plot. But, if you like this concept, maybe take it and then add a little more? Then I’ll consider it! But here’s the story I really hope you like it and come back to me if you have more ideas!!! Thank you so much for requesting!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

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My Hurt, My Hurt

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Reader overhears Harry saying something hurtful. And words hurt.

Warnings: Crying, gossiping about others, mentions of eyes being puffy (I don’t know lol), angst, one bad word.

Note: For the lovely @pottermagiczz for requesting! I really hope you like it! (Cause I kinda don’t)

It wasn’t on purpose, the accidental occurrence of being right outside of the room where the conversation was taking place.

But her feet had taken her there, looking for her lost Potions book that she had perhaps left there previously. It was then where she heard murmuring, the voice of two teenage boys discussing something over hushed tones.

As an average person would, the curiosity brewing in her chest got the best of her, and, her Potions book slowly being forgotten, leaned her ear towards the room, trying to catch even a few words they were saying.

Fortunately for her, she quickly discovered that one of those voices were Ron Weasley, and it is common knowledge to know he’s not such a good whisperer.

“So you don’t like her?”

“Shh Ron! Not so loud, will ya?”

The owner of the second voice was obviously Harry Potter himself. She figured such since she often heard Snape call him out while she was working, and she started to recognize the voice without glancing upwards; plus she, as everyone else as well, quickly figured out Snape had a disliking for Potter.

“So you do?” Ron asked urgently, breaking the girl out of her thoughts about Potions, her mind once again slowly forgetting her book that was probably on the table right in front of where they were talking.

“No I don’t. She’s crazy, Ron. Always talking about him. I tried to talk about something else, but she just started crying.”

The girl would’ve heard a undisturbed laugh, but what she heard instead was Ron muffling it with his hands, somehow making it sound more obvious of his chuckles.

Her heart squeezed with anxiety. She recalled a moment, a moment where she didn’t want to remember, but her brain brought it to the front of her mind anyway, pushing it into her thoughts despite her protests.

It started with a sweet Hufflepuff boy she encountered, resulting in blushing cheeks and brushing shoulders. Their lips have locked and their hands have intertwined. But even by a couple months he locked lips with another girl in what they thought was an abandoned corridor, her teary eyes being the next thing he saw when he heard a sniffle.

He tried to explain, tried to gain her broken heart’s pieces back together, but it was no use. So she was left broken and teary-eyed, running through the halls before bumping into Potter, his flustered face turning scarlet out of surprise and embarrassment when he saw she was crying.

He had comforted her that day, warm arms she always dreamed of being in wrapping around her shoulders. She observed from a far that when he hugged friends after Quidditch games, he often placed his face in their neck, and he was doing just that. His nose tickled her skin, his soft breathing brushing it. His lips were something she would always remember, for his mouth was touching her shoulder. She remembered shivering in the best way, but she hoped he took it as she was shaking from the endless sobs that were previously escaping her. But as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, as soon as his lips touched her skin, as soon as his heartbeat was beating in her ears, the sobs ceased.

Was he talking about her? The moment where he held her at her most vulnerable state, the moment he provided her so much comfort that she believed nothing could hurt her again. He could’ve been taking about anyone else in the school, for there was so many girls they could be discussing.

But only one girl he comforted while she was sobbing over a break up with a boy. And that was her.

So yeah, it burned, it burned when he talked about that moment like it was nothing, like the comfort he provided her was fake. Did he even care? Why would he be annoyed by her hurt? Why would he be annoyed when her heart was crushing by the second, watching as her hands fumbled with the pieces as he held her?

And something else burned, besides her chest that was trying by the second to stay together, and that was her eyes, for the tears were brimming her lids.

Her vision got blurry. And yet she stayed, her brain telling herself that he had more to say, more words to destroy her with before she finally walked away.

And she was right, painfully, for Harry wasn’t done yet.

“Why was she crying?” Ron asked. She could hear Harry’s eye roll in his voice, annoyance dripping from his words.

“It’s obvious, Ron. He isn’t with her anymore.”

“Right.” Ron muttered. “Well didn’t she have the right to be sad?”

She peaked just enough to see Harry shrug. “I mean I guess but it was so awkward- like go cry to someone else, please. Plus she ruined my robes with snot.”

It wasn’t just the words that hurt, but the tone in the boy’s voice. He sounded done, annoyed even. But why would he decide to comfort her when he was gonna later go and make of it?

She backed away from the door, eyes burning with the very tears he just ridiculed. She faintly heard Ron bid goodnight, his heavy steps going up to the boys’ dorm once Harry said the same thing.

She was sure she heard Harry’s footsteps as well, squeaky shoes from rainy Quidditch practice going up the stairs, following Ron.

She entered the Common Room then, eyes blurred as she spotted her Potions book on the table. She gripped it in her fingers, almost like she was giving it her pain before practically sprinting up the stairs to her own dorm, a sob wedged in her chest the whole way up.

As soon as she entered the room the noise was let out, the pain in her chest far worse than it was that night in his arms. She sat on her bed, hugging a pillow as if it would take her heart ache.

She thought Harry cared about people other than his friends. She thought he was nice. Maybe the popularity around Hogwarts just made him careless. She didn’t know the reason, but all she knew was that she was planning on never talking to Harry again.

It’s not like he would care anyway, right?

Her eyes were red the next morning. Which was something she hated, but she had to deal with it. She could’ve simply put her wand to her face and casted a spell to get rid of it, but she recalled an occurrence where a girl in Hufflepuff did that only to have such puffy eyes she couldn’t see for two days; even the nurse took forever to get the swelling down.

But, to her fortune, they swelled down a little bit by the time it was breakfast.

She sat in her usual spot, the one no one else sits at, away from everyone else.

Yes, it as her Fourth Year at Hogwarts and her she still didn’t really have any friends. Sure, she was on good terms with Hermione and Ginny, but they didn’t speak to her often, mainly focused on Harry.

Harry.

They spoke quite a lot since the encounter in the corridor, her crying in his arms. He would stop by her dorm steps and walk her to class, walk by her in the corridors and catching up on the latest news.

But ever since last night she wanted to break that bond, for now she thought differently of the boy. She wouldn’t lie though, she did miss talking to him. She missed the smile he would give her in the mornings, and the soft giggles they would share in Potions class, making fun of how Snape’s nose looked abnormally large that morning.

But it was all over.

She thought he cared about her.

Was all those exchanged giggles and smiles for nothing? Just a cruel joke to him when to her they meant everything?

She ended up not being able to eat that morning, for the swirling in her stomach from Harry’s words kept her from doing so.

She kept her head down most of the meal, not wanting to make accidental eye contact with anyone so they could see her partly red eyes.

It wasn’t until her ears picked up on the sound of feet stepping toward her that she looked up.

Only to meet green eyes the color of freshly grown spring grass.

She almost flinched at the sudden company, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Why did he want to talk to her? He just made fun of her, now he’s gonna act like he cares?

His lips parted and closed like a fish for a couple seconds, them just staring at one another before he spoke. “Hi.”

His voice was shaky but he didn’t stutter.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he probably could see her red eyes. “Hello, Harry.”

She mentally cursed him for looking so good today. He didn’t look any different than the other times she’s seen him, realistically, but maybe the fact that she planned not to talk to him her mind highlighted all his good features.

His glasses framed his eyes exceptionally perfect, cheeks flushed and eyes darting too and fro every couple seconds.

Damn it Harry, why do you have to be so cute?

She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”

He swayed on his feet, putting his weight on one leg then the other. His eyebrows shot up as if he was surprised at her question before putting himself together and replying.

“W-” his throat cleared. “Why aren’t you talking to me anymore?”

She almost was thrown back by his answer. He couldn’t be serious.

But the hopeless tone in his voice proved her otherwise, like he genuinely wanted to know. The way his eyes were so wide in confusion and wonder behind his glasses, wondering why she was avoiding him.

Obviously he didn’t know she was outside the Common Room during his complaints towards her, but why did his confusion and slight hurt look so genuine?

She cleared her throat, both to make her voice not crack and clear her running questions in her mind. “I think it’s quite obvious, Harry.”

His confusion only got deeper and more expressive, eyebrows furrowing and forehead ceasing in thought. “I’m afraid I do not follow….”

She suddenly felt a spur of anger towards the boy before her, own eyebrows scrunching in frustration. “Don’t act like you don’t know, Harry. Don’t act like what you said wouldn’t have any effect on me whatsoever.”

“What I said?” He questioned, face showing even deeper confusion. “I didn’t say anything about you, not anything negative that is.”

“Oh don’t lie,” she found herself blurting out. “I heard you saying that I was annoying and that you wanted me to drool all over someone else-”

“Woah,” he interrupted, stepping forward and grabbing her arm oh so gently. He then let a light-hearted laugh escape his lips, unknowingly to him only raising the anger inside her.

“What’s so funny?” She demanded, trying to rip her arm out of his grip but failing to do so.

“Love,” he started softly, sitting down beside the girl and finally letting go of her arm, leaning his elbow on the table in front of them. He then faced her, face showing so much genuine feelings that she had trouble staying angry with him, so much so that she felt the snarl on her lips falling into a slight frown.

He then tapped her leg to bring back her attention to him, as if her brain wasn’t already crowded with thoughts of the black-headed boy. “Did you even hear your name within the conversation?” He asked gently, a teasing glint in his eyes.

She scoffed, like the answer was obvious, but now that she thought about it she couldn’t quite place hearing her name in their discussion, for he just used pronouns. But that didn’t make the possibility of them discussing her any less.

“Well, no, but that doesn’t mean-”

He sighed, shushing her softly. “Yes it does, because I wasn’t even talking about you. I was talking about..” he then hesitated, almost like the actual person he was gossiping about was watching him over his shoulder. “I was talking about Cho.”

The girl’s eyes widened, subconsciously spotting forward on the bench of the table closer to him. “But I was crying and you comforted me,” she protested, still trying to convince herself that she was the person he was talking bad about. But Cho? What had she done to Harry to make him talk so negatively about her?

“So did Cho,” Harry started. “Sobbing about Cedric. And I know that it was a valid reason to be crying about, but it was awkward because we aren’t that close, and she ruined my freshly cleaned robes.”

The girl couldn’t help it, she let out a tiny giggle at not only the fact that Harry was complaining about his robes, but the face he made. He looked like he genuinely felt bad for talking bad about the Ravenclaw, yet deep down he really wasn’t sorry; his expression of showing it was too funny not to laugh at.

“Hey, I feel kinda bad now, okay?” Harry attempted to protest, but he still had a curved corner to his lips.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she assured. “I’m glad you weren’t talking about me, because I would definitely missed talking to you.”

Harry’s cheeks dusted pink which made her admire him more than usual, his shoulders curving into his neck to attempt to hide himself.

“I just wanted to let you know,” Harry’s voice suddenly went lower, in a quiet whisper that she had to slightly lean in to hear him. “That I don’t at all regret what I did to comfort you, and that I care about your feelings. And that I would never to anything to intentionally harm them.”

It was the girl’s turn to have flushed cheeks, for she could feel them burning her face up at that very moment. Her heart fluttered at the praise and the love that flooded his words. She felt warm all over, her chest fuzzy with emotion as she shyly looked away from him. “Thanks, Harry. That means a lot to me. And that goes for me as well, I care about your feelings too.”

Harry smiled, something she wanted to see every second of her life. His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses, happiness flooding his features and she could feel her cheeks warming, all because of the boy in front of her.

“Do you think that we can forget this misunderstanding and start over?” She asked almost shyly, like she was embarrassed for assuming their discussions were about her.

Harry eagerly nodded, making her chuckle, and they shook hands to seal their promise.

I was wondering if you would write about a muggleborn fem!Ravenclaw!reader with Draco Malfoy based on the Taylor Swift song, “But Daddy I Love Him”?

I thought it would be fun and I think Draco is a perfect fit for the main man of this song? Possibly because muggle parents heard about the powerful and slightly dangerous Malfoys?

Thank you if you do, and take care! 🤍

As you can see my requests are currently closed because have so much unfinished stories I want to compete, but I promise, as soon as my drafts are cleared out your story will be the first one started!! I think it’s wonderful idea even though I haven’t heard the song but I will look into the lyrics to get more details! Thank you so much for requesting and take care as well!