#+draco

ugh draco is the typa guy who’d mock ur moans after u did the deed

“did ya have fun?” he cooes poking your side, this made you roll ur eyes playfully

“nope. ew. boring. hated every second of it.” you teased back, voice cracking mid sentence (probably because of how much you begged, screamed, moan u name it for him earlier)

"oh? is that so?. guess we'll have to practise some more." he comment quietly, he copied your position on the bed, eyes darting around his ceiling like he was thinking of something. there was a 4 second silence, and you close your eyes thinking that was the end of that conversation.

“ohhh dray” he mocked in a rather high pitched voice. You shot him a glare.

“malfoy.”

“Oh my god dray! shit i think im gonna cum fuck! please!”

“ugh enough draco!” you whined with a pout, covering your face underneath the sheets.

"oh daddy!" he followed you, tickling your side as you squirmed trying to hide your mortified giggles into the pillow. "isnt that what i heard? didn't you let that slip?" he questioned, knowing damn well what he heard.

“Not funny.” You deadpanned. He only laughed, leaning in to kiss your cheek— the only thing he could reach. You tried to sound intimidating, but all he heard was the world’s cutest baby bear trying to growl.

"apologies, my sweet girl." he calmed himself, manhandling you back to lying on his chest, giving your ass a little pat as if to say 'there we go, back where you belong.' you tilt your head back, barely hiding your smile as you sent him a fake glare. he leant down and kissed your nose with a pleased smile. "you know i like your pretty noises. you're just cute when you're embarrassed."

“whatever malfoy.”

⟢ pairing. draco malfoy x fem!gryffindor reader. ⟢ summary. draco realizes that he may or may not have feelings for you, and that scared the hell out of him. ⟢ enemies to lovers. he fell first, he fell harder. draco being in denial. ⟢ wc. 2,8k ⟢ masterlist!

you and draco had been sworn enemies ever since you stepped foot into hogwarts. it all started when draco decided it’d be an entertainment to make fun of you very first friend—ron. of course, you stood up for him. sharp words. sharper glare. you made a few snarky comments about draco, and that pissed him off, really pissed him off. because not only was he embarrassed by anyone, no, but rather a girl. sure, he’s met loads of people who are brave enough to stand up for themselves, but never did he ever meet a girl bite him back. you really got under his skin.

you felt bad enough soon afterwards, so you decided to apologize to draco, maybe it was just a bad start, and you could become friends, you thought. wrong. instead, when you approached him that day to apologize, he and his friends greggory goyle and crabbe decided to play a little ‘harmless’ prank on you. you spotted him in the great hall during lunch, lounging at the slytherin table with goyle and crabbe. you took a deep breath, mustered your courage and walked over, ignoring the ugly stares around you.

“draco, i just wanted to—”

before you could finish, he cut you off. “oh, look! she’s in love with me,” he drawled, loud enough for not the entire table to hear, but rather the entire hall. he and his friends burst into laughter, but that wasn’t enough for them. you tried to hide your face in pure embarrassment. but as you stood there, he flicked his wand under the table, and suddenly your shoes stuck fast to the floor, as if someone had put a magic superglue on them. you tried to move, but your feet wouldn’t budge. at this point, everyone was laughing at you, and it made your cheeks burn from embarrassment, well except for your friends hermione, harry, and ron.

and with another flick of his wand, your bag flew open, its contents scattered all over the floor. your books, quills, ink, parchment, and at last, a photo of you and ron. “hey, look! looks like little y/n has a boyfriend!” he flew his arms up in the air, photo in his arms so that everyone could see. everyone burst into laughter, snickers echoing through the hall, and all you wanted was the world to swallow you whole. you tried your best to contain the tears threatening to spill, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. you could feel both sadness and anger bubbling up in your chest. oh you were so going to get him back.

and that’s what basically started your little rivalry with draco.

the rest of the years, you two just continued on with this silent hatred towards each other. endless arguments in the corridors. snickering remarks passed in classes. glares exchanged across the great hall. It became a sort of a game neither of you would admit you were playing, but neither of you would back down from. you knew it was childish and pathetic, you tried—tried to stop this childish nonsense by ignoring him but he just wouldn’t stop either. if he didn’t stop, why would you? you never wanted to back down from a malfoy, and you never wanted to let him walk over you like you were some sort of dirt.

── .✦

you were bolting across the castle corridors with books clutched tightly to your chest. oh you were so dead. you had already been late to professor’s snape class twice this week, and there was no way he’d let you off a third time. your shoes skidded slightly on the stone floor as you rounded a sharp corner, and slammed straight into something solid. books went flying as you stumbled backward, barely managing to keep yourself upright. you winced in pain, rubbing your forehead. “sorry i didn’t mean—”

“watch where you’re going!” an unfamiliar voice spoke up, cutting off your sentence. you looked up slowly, only to see crabbe and goyle towering over you, smug expressions plastered across their faces. without a word, you kneeled down, gathering the books scattered everywhere. you knew better not to stir things up, you honestly just wanted out. but then goyle took a slow step forward. and then another. until the thick sole of his boot landed squarely on the cover of your defense against the dark arts book. he shifted his weight onto it, grinding it slightly. “going anywhere, sweetheart?” you let out a slow, controlled breath, calming yourself down.

“aw, is she going to cry?” crabbe mocked, his voice thick with fake concern. goyle laughed, still grinding his boot into your book. hearing this, something in you snapped. you stood up, fists clenched at your sides. “you—”

“back off.”

you froze—everyone did. goyle turned his head slowly, his smug expression faltering. there, stood none other than draco, just a few steps behind them. “seriously? picking fights in a hallway with someone who’s not even trying to fight back? pathetic.” crabbe opened his mouth to argue before shutting up upon seeing draco’s deathly glare.

crabbe and goyle exchanged a look, clearly unsure whether to stay or follow his silent command. sure enough they got their answer once draco sent them another death glare, sending them goosebumps. the two lumbered off, still grumbling to each other as they disappeared around the corner.

you just stood there, eyebrows raised, your expression that in a mixture of confusion and disbelief as you stared at him. “what are you looking at?” he asked, his tone sharp. you scoffed, still wearing a confused-disbelief-weirded out face. “i had it under control, by the way.” you kneeled down once again to gather the books and papers scattered across the cold stone floor. now it was his turn to scoff. “yeah right you did.” he inched closer, kneeling down across from your figure as he reached for a few books near your hand. you simply shot him a look. “i didn’t ask for your help.”

“i was expecting more of a ‘thank you’ rather than endless chattering.” he replied coldly, causing you to roll your eyes. soon enough, you’d gathered the last of your books, hugging them tightly to your chest as you stood up, draco following shortly after. “here’s your.. stuff.” he muttered, tossing a few of your books at you without a care as you caught them just in time, almost dropping your potions book.

“thanks? i guess.” you muttered, catching his gaze one last time before hurrying past him, almost forgetting about professor snape’s class. oh you were so getting detention.

he let his gaze linger on your figure as you slowly disappeared into the castle corridors. “did i really just help that pathetic girl?” he scoffed at himself, clearly confused and annoyed at his obnoxious actions earlier. he brushed it off soon enough—dismissed it as nothing more than a moment of temporary insanity. “whatever,” he muttered under his breath, tugging his robes tighter around him as he made his way through the castle corridor.

meanwhile, you crept silently down the hallway once you got near enough, clutching your books like they might somehow make you invisible. with every step toward the potions classroom, you prayed snape would be too deep in his lecture to notice the door creak open. unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side this time.

the second your hand touched the handle and you slipped through the barely opened door, all eyes turned—well except for one. he didn’t even have to look up to know it’s you, of course it was you, who else would it be? “ah… miss y/l/n,” snape drawled, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as they flicked up from the papers on his desk. “how generous of you to grace us with your presence. tell me, did you spend the last fifteen minutes perfecting your dramatic entrance, or are you simply incapable of reading a clock?” you let out an awkward chuckle, eyes darting from here to there out of nervousness.

“i can explain, see—”

“five points are deducted from gryffindor,” he interrupted flatly, his voice cold. “for your inability to arrive on time,” his gaze flicked to you now, slow and deliberate. “and another five for believing your excuses are worth wasting class time.” you froze, lips parted, but he wasn’t done. “detention. this evening. you’ll report to the hospital wing, madam pomfrey is in need of assistance.”

you only nodded, sighing in defeat. quiet whispers and sucked breathes could be heard around you, causing your ears to burn in embarrassment. well, you did see it coming, just didn’t thought you’d end up with madam pomfrey. honestly, you were just grateful you didn’t have to scrub the toilets.

── .✦

inevitably, you being you, you snuck out of detention. it was pretty easy actually, all you did was slip out the back quietly when madam pomfrey got distracted with a student coughing up slugs. you could have stayed—should have. but it was the quidditch finale! there was no way you were missing this.

so now, here you were, standing at the edge of the stands with hermione and ron by your side.

“do you think they’re going to make it?” hermione asked, her expression was filled with worry, not taking her eyes off of harry. “don’t worry,” you said softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “you know they always do.” she nodded slightly, but her gaze didn’t waver. the roar of the crowd echoed in the distance, today was the quidditch finale, after all. everything was riding on this match. victory or defeat, it would be remembered.

your gaze was fixed on harry, watching his every move as he soared through the sky with focused determination. that was, until he knocked malfoy clean off his broom. you winced as you watched him tumble toward the ground. “bloody hell, that must’ve hurt!” ron too, winced watching the scene play out. and of course, being the crybaby he is, he whined and cried out in pain, causing you to erupt into laughter. “what a crybaby,” you snorted, nudging hermione and signaling her to look down.

she too, laughed, watching the scene unfold. “i mean honestly, can he be more pathetic?” you giggled, watching his body got dragged away before averting your attention back to the game. however, your stolen moment of freedom didn’t last so long. because just as you were starting to relax, a chillingly familiar voice spoke from behind.

“enjoying the game, are we miss y/l/n?”

you froze, already knowing who’s voice that belonged to. slowly turning around, you came face to face with the one and only: professor snape himself. damn it, just when things were starting to get fun. “abandoning your assigned detention to sneak into a quidditch match,” he said coldly. “how very brave of you.”

he was expecting you to come up with thousands of excuses, but no, this time, you kept your head low, not daring to make a sound as you accepted your ‘defeat.’

“since madam pomfrey has apparently been relieved of your assistance, i’ll see to it that your punishment continues under my supervision. expect extended hours, and fewer excuses.”

and just like that, your fun came to a very swift, painful end. but fairly speaking, it was worth it. you didn’t regret sneaking out on detention, not even a little.

you pushed open the doors to the hospital wing, trying your best to act casual, like you hadn’t just snuck out of detention. “well, well. look who decided to show up.” madam pomfey looked up from her cabinet with a raised a brow. you gave her a sheepish smile, rubbing the nape of your neck. “sorry, got.. held up?” you muttered, giving her an awkward-apologetic look. “mhm,” she obviously didn’t buy your excuse, but thankfully she didn’t press it.

“you can start by helping me here, basic salve application, wound cleansing, the usual.” you listened intently at her orders, nodding in response as you let your eyes wander around the room. your eyes then landed on a certain blonde whom you’d recognize, sitting on one of the beds with a scowl and a rather dramatic ice pack pressed to his forehead.

you replayed the moment where he had fallen oh so dramatically and whined like a baby, and you couldn’t help but let out a snort—unfortunately enough, loud enough for him to hear. his head snapped toward your direction almost immediately. “what are you laughing at?” his tone was cold, firm, as he was trying to act as cool and intimidating as possible. but then again, that never worked on you.

“nothing.” you shrugged, averting your attention back to madam pomfrey, who’s now explaining how to treat minor surface wounds. on the other hand, draco scoffed at you, clearly annoyed and irritated. “now, you’ll be helping malfoy with his wounds.” you blinked, still not able to process what she had just said. “wait, what? can’t i help neville? or seamus?” you practically begged her not to put you with draco.

“no buts. malfoy’s wounds are all but minor ones.” before you could negotiate or even complain, she immediately gave you a tray full of supplies before promptly walking away, leaving you alone.

you dramatically sighed, rolling your eyes as you made your way toward draco, who didn’t look much pleasant either. “you look thrilled to see me,” you muttered dryly, setting the tray beside him. “i’m overjoyed,” he deadpanned. “can’t you tell?” you ignored him, grabbing the cloth. you fought back the urge to just choke him right here, right this moment.

“shut up and hold still,” you murmured, bringing a cloth to his cheek. he winced as you gently dabbed the cut on his left cheek. you rolled your eyes, still not looking at him. “your wound is as small as a goblin’s nail, you’ll live.” now it was his turn to roll his eyes. your presence alone infuriated something inside him.

eventually, the two of you fell into a quiet silence. you were too focused on cleaning his wound, and as for him, well, he was too busy fighting himself from looking at you. he couldn’t help but steal few glances, his eyes drifting toward your face every now and then. not that he’d admit it. he’d constantly lean back once you got too close, way too close.

he didn’t understand it. didn’t want to understand it.

his heartbeat had picked up without warning, thudding awkwardly in his chest. and the worst part? you were just there, close, calm, completely unaware that you were quietly driving him insane. and that unsettled him more than anything else. he looked away, jaw clenched, silently begging himself to get a grip. this was you who he was talking about, you! the person he has hated from the very beginning, the very person who infuriated him more than anyone. so why, why was his heart racing—beating so loudly for you? he gulped once your face inched closer, looking away almost instantly.

snap out of it, draco.

“done,” you said finally, stepping back and setting the supplies aside. just as you were checking if you’d missed any wounds, you noticed the faintest shade of pink dusting the tip his ears. “you good?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. “i’m fine,” his tone was sharp and defensive. “haven’t you got somewhere else to be?”

you blinked. okay. rude.

your brows lifted slightly, folding your arms. “as a matter of fact i do.” with that, you made your way across the room to madam pomfrey, not giving him another glance. “all done,” you said, trying to keep your voice neutral. “he’s not bleeding out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

she glanced over her shoulder with a nod, clearly picking up on your tone but not commenting on it. “good. i need you to stay and help with the other students. and once you’re done, tidy up the room, will you?” you gave a quick nod, already moving to the next patient, someone from hufflepuff with a nasty bruise forming on their temple.

that night, draco couldn’t sleep at all. who else would he be thinking about if not you? you had invaded his mind that it made him go insane. no matter how many times he turned over in bed, no matter how tightly he shut his eyes, it was always you he saw. it was maddening, really. he groaned and threw his pillow over his face. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered into the fabric. “completely mental.”

he hated to admit it, but if he were to say he just now thought you’d grown up to become rather attractive—he’d be lying. truth was, he’d known for years. he just never let himself acknowledge it.

he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “no. absolutely not. this is not happening.”

Summary: You were taught to never go near a Malfoy, ever. But how could you? He's very much unavoidable.

wc: 1.1k+

cw: potter!reader x draco, reader is twins w harry, au where voldy doesn't exist, jily is alive, kinda unsupportive james, reader and james fight.

A/N: I can't stop with the potter!reader x draco fics.😔

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Your parents only ever gave you and Harry one command before your very first year at Hogwarts. Not “study hard,” not “stay out of trouble,” not even “stick together.” No. It was a singular warning, sharp and unwavering, as you stood on Platform 9¾ with your trunks at your feet and nerves buzzing under your skin.

James Potter crouched in front of you, eyebrows furrowed beneath his messy hair, and pointed at both of you as if branding the rule into your very soul.

“You do not go near a Malfoy,” he said with finality. “Ever,” Lily echoed, folding her arms across her chest.

You and Harry glanced at each other, unsure whether to laugh or panic. But neither of you asked questions. You didn’t have to. Their faces were carved from stone—resolute, nostalgic, and more than a little haunted.

So you promised.

And for the first few years, you kept that promise.

⸻

You were now heavily making out with Draco Malfoy.

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: helping a younger student resulted in you and the first-year walking into a prank not meant for you, and as you do so, you catch Fred's attention. the next day he tries to apologise with another prank and it backfires, but this only resulted in him falling even harder for you, he just knew wanted to be yours.

Warnings/tags: hufflepuff!reader (well it suits anyone really :D), love at first sight, he fell first and HARD, fred needs you so bad, pranks gone wrong, teasing, fluffy and cute, fred's a simp a/n: inspired by "Wanna be Yours by Arctic Monkeys"

———

The courtyard was alive with the soft hum of spring—branches swaying in the breeze, birds chirping from the castle walls, and a few students milling about on the cobblestones. Fred crouched behind a large stone pillar, his mischievous grin matching the one plastered across his twin’s face.

Huddled in a corner, the four of them—Fred, George, Lee and Oliver, were planning a revenge prank on Marcus Flint and Draco Malfoy for their obnoxious antics during the Quidditch match earlier.

“Are you sure about this?” Oliver Wood asked, trying to sound stern but failing as he bit back a chuckle.

Malfoy had spent most of the game taunting Harry, and Flint’s borderline dirty play had cost Gryffindor two near-goals. That didn’t sit well with Fred and George, so what better way to get back at them than with a prank.

“Hundred percent.” Fred said, smirking as he held up a pouch of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. “Alright, we rig this near the tree. As soon as they walk by, poof! Total chaos. Then, George, you release the Dungbombs—”

“Already got ‘em primed,” George said, patting his pocket with a devilish grin.

“Don't forget the slime and feathers!” Lee added, holding up a jar of fluorescent green goop in one hand, and a bag of feathers in the other.

Oliver, who had reluctantly joined but couldn’t resist some payback, frowned. “Let’s make sure they’re the only ones who get caught in this mess though, yeah?”

“Relax Wood,” Fred said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s a foolproof plan. Nothing can go wrong.”

“Trust us,” George said, “We’ve calculated everything.”

“Right,” Lee affirmed, “It's simple charm, a bit of instant darkness powder, and—bam! Feathers, slime, and a nice little puff of stink powder for good measure.”

George cackled, clapping his twin on the back. “Beautiful. They’ll be too busy cleaning slime and plucking feathers off their robes to bother us for weeks.”

“That's what they deserve for acting like twits during the match.” Lee chimed in. "S'pose they do deserve it." Oliver chuckled, his reluctance turning into enthusiasm.

The trap was simple but effective: a hidden tripwire enchanted to release darkness powder, then a rain of slime and feathers from above, followed by the dungbombs. All they had to do now was wait for their targets. "Now, they're supposed to walk pass here any moment..." Fred told the others, as the four of them watched eagerly.

Fred’s eyes glinted as he nodded toward the enchanted tripwire stretched across the cobblestones, ready to unleash chaos on Flint and Malfoy the moment they stepped on it.

Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't.

From behind a stone archway, you appeared with a small Ravenclaw first-year in tow.

It wasn’t Malfoy or Flint who walked into the courtyard first.

It was you.

You were laughing softly, your eyes crinkling with warmth as you guided a nervous-looking first-year Ravenclaw girl who clutched her books tightly to their chest. The poor kid had taken a wrong turn, and you volunteered to show her the way to the library.

In your arms, you helped carry some of her load, making it easier for the first-year.

“Don’t worry,” you were saying, your voice kind and steady. “The library isn’t far. Just through the next hall and up the staircase."

Fred’s eyes locked onto you, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. He didn’t hear anything else. It was like the world had narrowed to just you—the way your hair caught the sunlight, the easy grace in your step, and the way your smile seemed to light up the entire courtyard.

How had he not noticed you before?

“Is Fred broken?” George whispered to Lee.

“Looks like it. Never seen him go this quiet before,” Lee replied, smirking.

Oliver elbowed Fred, snapping him out of his trance. “Mate, you’re staring.”

“Shut up,” Fred muttered, his eyes never leaving you.

"Who is she?..." He continued, holding true to Oliver's statement.

“Who?” Lee asked, following his gaze. He snorted when he saw you. “Her? Oh no. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, Fred.”

Fred didn’t respond. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you but he was quickly snapped out of his trance as you approached the tree.

Oh shit. "Not the tree, don't walk past the tree..." He muttered to himself, hoping you would somehow magically hear him.

It was no use. Disaster struck.

You were met with instant darkness, coughing slightly as the powder released a thick fog around you and the first year.

Before you could grasp the full situation, a torrent of green slime and feathers rained down from above, coating you and the first-year from head to toe. The Dungbombs exploded seconds later, filling the courtyard with an awful stench.

The first-year yelped, clutching her books as the slime dripped down her robes. You froze for a moment, stunned, before shaking your head with a soft laugh.

Fred winced, guilt twisting in his chest.

“Oops,” George muttered, though he didn’t sound all that sorry.

Lee burst out laughing, "Merlin, did we just traumatise a first year?!"

“Poor kid,” Oliver said, though his lips twitched with suppressed laughter.

Fred, however, barely heard them. He was too busy watching you. Instead of panicking or getting angry, you crouched down immediately, brushing feathers off the first-year’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said gently, your voice soothing. “It’s just a bit of slime and feathers. Another tip, beware of silly pranks, it's all part and parcel of the Hogwarts culture." You comfort the kid, trying to lighten the situation by laughing softly, "Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

The first-year nodded, her lower lip trembling, and you smiled, guiding her toward a nearby fountain.

Fred couldn’t stop staring. He didn't know who you were, but he did know this, he wanted to be yours.

You were covered in slime and feathers, an absolute mess, yet you still looked radiant.

There was something about the way you put the first-year first, your patience and kindness shining through, that made his heart thud in the best way.

You helped her cleaned as much as you could off her robes, murmuring reassurances the entire time before chanting, "Scourgify!", instantly her robes were as good as new.

Only after she was cleaned up did you finally turn your attention to yourself. With the help of the cleaning spell, the feathers were out of your hair and the slime off your sleeves in no time.

“Merlin! Fred, you’ve got it bad,” Lee said, smirking.

“Oh, leave him,” George teased. “He’s clearly in love.” Fred’s ears turned pink, but he didn’t care. For once, he was speechless.

“How come I’ve never noticed her before?” The red head murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He was certain he would’ve remembered someone like you. “Maybe because you’re too busy pranking people,” Oliver said dryly. "Who is she?" Fred asked, ignoring Oliver's remark. "Seen her around a couple of times, especially in the library, she's in Ron's year." Oliver hummed, watching as you conversed with the first-year.

“That explains it,” George quipped. “She’s too smart to bother with Fred’s idiocy.”

Fred scowled, but his gaze remained fixed on you. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself, and he felt like everyone had disappeared, you were the only one in sight, to him.

He knew he had to make this right. He needed an excuse to approach you. Right! An apology. And of course, he had to impress you.

The Ravenclaw girl finally gave a small laugh as you finished off explaining the pranking culture at Hogwarts. “Thank you, I-..I think I know my way to the library from here now.” she said softly before hurrying off. ___

The next day, Fred had a plan. A proper one.

Breakfast in the Great Hall hummed with the usual morning chaos: the clink of cutlery, the murmur of conversation, and the occasional bursts of laughter from each houses' table.

Fred stood at the entrance, trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of enchanted flowers—slime-free this time—that were charmed to sing a cheerful apology tune when presented.

He wiped his palm against his robes for what felt like the hundredth time. “This is foolproof,” Fred muttered under his breath.

“You say that every time,” George pointed out, his tone dripping with amusement. He nudged Lee, who was barely containing his laughter. “What do you reckon? Will he get through two words before tripping over himself?”

“Five Galleons says he’ll combust,” Lee said, grinning.

“Will you two shut it?” Fred snapped, though the tips of his ears turned red. “This is serious.”

“Serious,” George repeated, mocking Fred’s tone. “You’re holding a singing bouquet, mate. Nothing about this screams ‘serious.’”

“Just watch,” Fred said, his voice low but determined.

That’s when you walked in, and Fred’s stomach flipped.

You were laughing as you entered, your head tilted toward one of your friends. That laugh—light, carefree, and far too distracting—was etched into Fred’s memory, playing on a loop since the previous day.

The sunlight streaming through the tall windows hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your smile. You were radiant.

Fred’s heart thumped in his chest as he stepped forward, the bouquet held out like a peace offering. “Hey!” he called, catching your attention.

You turned to him, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Yes?” you said, the corners of your mouth quirking up into a curious smile. What did he want from you?

Fred grinned, his confidence teetering on the edge of unraveling. “Listen, about yesterday—”

But before he could finish, the bouquet let out a sudden pop. A puff of pink smoke erupted, followed by an earsplittingly off-key version of “I’m Sorry About The Slime” that echoed through the Great Hall.

Fred barely had time to react before the bouquet detonated in a second burst, showering him in glitter and knocking him flat on his back.

The Hall erupted into laughter.

Fred groaned, staring at the enchanted ceiling, which now looked even farther away than usual. He could hear George’s loud, obnoxious cackling somewhere to his left.

“Five Galleons,” Lee said smugly.

Fred grimaced, but before he could even begin to think about recovering, a familiar voice broke through the laughter.

“Guess I’m not the only casualty this time.”

Fred turned his head, blinking in disbelief. You had flopped down beside him, lying flat on your back on the floor as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Glitter sparkled in your hair, and your grin was wide and unapologetic.

“What are you doing?” Fred asked, his voice caught somewhere between bewilderment and awe.

“Making sure you’re not the only one who looks ridiculous,” you replied, shrugging as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s only fair.”

Fred let out a breathless laugh, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten. “You’re mental.” But he loved it.

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, glancing at him with a teasing smile.

From across the Hall, George shouted, “Right on, Romeooo!!” His voice was exaggerated and dramatic, and Fred could practically feel the heat rising in his face.

“Oi shut it, George!” Fred yelled, though his tone lacked bite.

You laughed again, and Fred swore his heart might actually burst. “You’ve got quite the fan club,” you said, gesturing toward the group of students, particularly, Fred's 'boys', who were now openly watching the scene unfold and chortling.

“They’re a bunch of idiots,” Fred muttered, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “You know,” you said thoughtfully, “for someone who’s usually so good at pranks, this was a spectacular disaster.”

Fred groaned, running a hand through his now glitter-covered hair. “Tell me about it.”

“But,” you added, your voice softening, “I appreciate the effort and the apology.”

Fred looked at you, his heart stuttering. “You do?”

“Yeah.” You leaned closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “And between you and me, I think you pull off the glitter look better than anyone else here.”

Fred laughed, the sound loud and genuine, and for a moment, the rest of the hall faded away. “I reckon you pull it off better than I do.”

“Why thank you, it's actually my dream to be covered in glitter. Shining as bright as a quidditch trophy is the goal." You joked, but Fred smiled warmly.

You do shine bright, he thought.

As you stood up, you reached out a hand to help him up. Fred took it without hesitation, warmth spreading through him at the simple gesture.

“Come on, glitter boy,” you said, your tone teasing but fond. “Let’s get you sitting somewhere before you injure yourself again.”

Fred let you lead him to a bench at the side of the hall, his hand still tingling from where yours had been.

As you both sat down, he turned to face you, his usual confidence returning in a slow, steady wave, “I’m Fred, by the way."

You laughed, tucking a strand of glitter-dusted hair behind your ear. “I know. You and George are kind of hard to miss.”

Fred’s grin widened, his chest fluttering at the sound of your laugh. “Yeah? Well, you’re kind of hard to forget...uh?" As if on cue, you told him your name. "Y/N." You smiled. "Y/N..." He repeated back, how fitting, a pretty name for a pretty girl.

Your eyes softened, and for a moment, you studied Fred's features. He did the same, glancing at your lips occasionally.

You'd always seen him from afar, to you he was just a prankster, a jokester, busy with his schemes, you'd never thought you'd actually come face to face with him.

But now that you did, you saw him in a different light, almost.

“If this is how you usually apologise,” you said, your voice light again, “I’m scared to see what happens when you’re not sorry.”

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. “Stick around, and I’ll show you.”

You leaned back slightly, your smile lingering. “I just might.”

And in that moment, Fred knew—he didn’t just want to impress you. He wanted you, all of you, your wit, your laughter, your sparkling eyes.

summary: draco couldn’t hide his feelings for you anymore, not when you’re dancing with his worst enemy.

The silk of her garment knocked him out of his consciousness. Maybe it’s a silly phase he’s going through, but he can’t make any promises, though. For her presence ignited something far worse inside him, if you could believe it could get any worse, that is. He liked looking at her; it was that simple. “Malfoy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Parkinson exclaimed, tapping his shoulder, all he could manage was a grunt. “Don’t touch me.” He straightened his posture, finally looking at the black-haired girl beside him. Another eye roll, and he moved forward, leaving her standing.

The violet glowed beneath the brown of her skin, and the gold shone its way through everyone's vision. “Looking for something, rather, someone?” he quietly approached you.

“Malfoy! Finally, someone I know.” You held onto his arm, “Where are the others? I thought I saw Theo for a second!” You looked up at him, baby blues clashing with your curiosity.

“Late. As always. Theodore’s with Parkinson, who’s been hollering about you for the past thirty minutes, I’ve been stuck with her.” he rolled his eyes, with the antics Pansy had pulled with him in the past years at Hogwarts, he never ought to understand her aim.

“Hush! She’s my friend, she’s only worried.” You let out a laugh, and his knees almost buckled. Clearing his throat, he let out a bit of truth. “You look good, tonight.” he couldn’t meet your eyes, looking ahead in the crowd, masking his interest — but you knew him too well. “Thank you, Draco.” With his name slipping out of your tongue, his knees could’ve given out, and he wouldn’t even notice. He was already too busy reminiscing about the sound of his name from your voice. Sweet, melodic, disguising the cruelty the name came with. 

“You look nice as well, really nice.” The last part came out in a whisper, for only him to hear, for only his heart to feel. His head turned, gracing you with a small nod, accompanied by a smile. It didn’t last as long as you’d like, as he turned to the crowd again, “If only Potter didn’t beat me to it,” he traced your palm with his fingers, “He better dance well, treat you the best.” he let out a self-effacing chuckle and let you go, “Draco, wait–” “There you are! Up, come on!” McGonagall took you by your shoulders and faced you beside Harry. “Hi. You look beautiful! Thanks for agreeing to come with me,” he sighed and grinned, looking at you, “Of course, Harry.” You smiled tightly, returning his gaze. But a certain blonde controlled it, and so you returned to the path of where he left, standing there alone — this didn’t feel right.

But the music played, and you waltzed. Waltzed to the sound of murmurs, Harry, with his two left feet, let out, and plagued an apologetic smile. At the end of the dance, you parted your ways — you knew Harry would come and find you later. You just needed air. 

Carefully looking around yourself, you made sure to be invisible to the room before stepping out. If Snape saw you sneak out, he’d surely deduct points from his own house. 

With the wind lapping around you, it felt bearable, the confusion. Tip-toeing around your own feelings, you’d never think of the night to go this way. After all, you’d been the most excited for the ball, only reading about it on your own — you thought it’d feel magical, and you’d feel loved with a dress of your own in the hands of the one. 

“You’ll catch a cold,” his voice came out surprised, as if he’d never expect to see you out, especially now. “So could you, yet you’re out here as well.” You finally turn around to look at him, properly. His blonde hair was a mess compared to the beginning of the night, as if he’d run his hands through it. He looked like an exquisite mess. 

He had taken off his blazer, only in his waistcoat, a white shirt, and his carefully ironed pants. You could feel his eyes on you, taking in your presence like you were his. “You and Potter have fun?” he scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, “You know, I have no problem with him. Only you do.” This made him scowl. “A problem? He is a problem, a major one. You should know this.”, “You’re just mad I said yes to being his date, you know, it was either him or one of those creeps — from our own house, might I add!” You were getting mad now. What choice did you have? Harry was one of your friends; it wasn’t anything romantic. He made that clear, and so did you.

“You did have another choice, Y/N.” Hearing Draco call you by your name, you felt time stop. “Yeah, who?” You pressed the issue. He just looked at you. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. “Go inside before you get cold, Pansy’s waiting for you” “No! Stop steering away from the topic; you started this argument! Tell me who else I would have gone with? It’s not like-”, before you could finish your point, he interrupted you. “Me!” he said loudly, frustrated. He laughed manically, “Has it ever occurred to you in the past five fucking days in the midst of these ‘creeps’ asking you out, I could be a choice?” you gasped. “Draco, what are you saying?” you whispered. “I’m saying,” he crept closer, “you could’ve gone with me.” “But that’s never been a choice for you, has it?” he snarled. “Don’t get wild on me. For Merlin’s sake! You could’ve asked, Draco. I would’ve said yes, you know, I wished on nothing else but for exactly that!” “You never could pluck up the courage and just ask me, so before you get frustrated and mad that I didn’t choose you — I never knew I could!” you were almost screaming, he looked straight at you, a feeble expression visible.

“Wished?” he repeated, “You wished for me to ask you?” We were both breathing heavily, words exchanged — all we could do was remind ourselves about boundaries, while trepidatiously stepping around them.

“Is that all you could get from what I said? You really are daft as a balloon, I-” your words were muffled, and your frustration sank. With a quiet lean, he pressed himself against you and touched your lips with his own. “Shut up,” he mumbled into the kiss, his hands moving up to grip your waist, while you stood surprised, unable to move. “What are you doing?” You murmured feverishly as he gave space to the gap between both of you, again, already missing his lips on yours. You felt drunk, your eyes were heavy and his gaze toxic. “What I’ve wanted to do for the past five years,” he breathed out, while you could only look at him and process this. My gaze shifted to his lips, “What do you want, love?” he whispered, “I’ll stop, I’ll do anything you want me to.”, It was your turn to say something. “I don’t want to ruin this,” You said, finally taking my eyes off him and gazing into the distance behind him, “Ruin what?”, he asked, taking a step back. “This- our friendship. I can’t lose you, Draco.” Your voice sounded apologetic, and you regretted those words as soon as they came out. Damn it, rationality was never your strong suit. Why now! “Okay,” he nodded and turned his heel, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.” You stayed quiet as he walked a few steps ahead, your back turned against him. It was only when he’d walked considerably far that you acted out. You couldn’t let go of him, of what you and he had. You’d been wishing on every shooting star, on every fallen petal, on every fallen eyelash — for him. To run to him, back home. To scream at him, to heal him, to talk to him, to be whoever you wanted to be — with no one but him.

To love him. As you had done, since you met him, since you saw him being kind, a hidden part he refused to acknowledge. To carry the wicked of his name, and to love it. You were only fooling yourself when you spoke about friendship. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the stupid smirk off his face and fall asleep in his arms. You wanted Draco Malfoy wholly to yourself.

Your feet started moving before you could think, and suddenly, you were running. Your heels clacked against the stony pathways of this school, against the same corridor you walked with him, hand in hand. A simple intertwining of both your hands, the normality of it all. You knew where to find him. The turns and the stairs, your feet ached in desperation, and your heart cried out from the breath you refused to take. Not without him, not today, cupid. You found yourself hurriedly climbing the spiral staircase of the all too familiar tower, where your constellations lay together, and you both could lie down and talk about your and his defeats. His quiet sighs, the smoke from his lungs, and the silent companionship.  Up and above, you found the room to be empty and stepped out onto the balcony. On a random day, he would’ve been with you. Sharing a cigarette, sharing a look, and sharing his secrets. “Draco,” you gasped. Merlin knew you had no air inside your lungs. 

He turned around almost immediately, surprised at your voice, “Of course you knew where to find me,” he shook his head, and looked above in desist. “I’m sorry, love. I can’t hear more about our friendship,” he laughed, still not looking at you, “Or, as a matter of fact, I can’t even look at you right now.” “Why?”, “Because when I look at you, I see something you don’t.” You wait for him to continue, “I don’t want to be your friend, I can’t take a single minute of being your fucking friend and not being able to touch you, to kiss you, and to admire you. Pretence was never my strong suit, and never will be.” “Frankly, I’m done pretending,” he finally said, looking at you, eyes dropping to your lips. “We can’t be friends anymore,” he pursed his lips together, “I want you, and I can’t hide it. I don’t want to hide it.” “Kiss me, again,” you spoke up, finally. “Kiss me until you’re tired of it,” “What?” he looked up again, bleary eyes full of hope. “I don’t want to be your friend, Draco Malfoy. No, I was wrong.” “Are you playing a joke?” You laughed aloud and shook your head ‘no’. You stepped closer towards him and ironed out his shirt with your hands, grabbing a hold of his collar with one, and his face with the other. “I want you, only you, Malfoy. I was so very wrong.”, with his signature smirk returning, “I know,” he muttered and took you by your lips again.

Laughing into the kiss, it felt more intense than ever. It was pure need and devotion. His tongue battled yours until he controlled the movement, his hands wandering all over your body, as yours travelled towards his chest, trying to feel his heart.

Mumbling sweet nothings into the kiss, it felt true to be alive with him. It felt normal, natural, like it should’ve been so ages ago. Parting slowly, he took your hands in his, “You feel it?” “Your heart's hammering,” You giggled, feeling the not-so-steady beat of his heart. The cold and gleaming Draco Malfoy, and you could feel him in the palm of your hand.