#background drarry

Dear Diary

@sapphicmicrofics​​​​​​

Pairing: Parvati Patil/Pansy Parkinson Rating: T WC: 50

*****

Dear Diary,

The DOUBT of yesterday's pair!

Closet Space

Creator: nocturn Sub-theme: Doubt Rating: T Word count: 3910 Warnings/tags: Romance, Cottagecore, Weddings, split POV, Femslash, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Mutual Pining, There Was Only One Bed, and they were ROOMMATES, Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Prior Substance Abuse, RIP Molly Weasley, Side note: apparently pigs eat anything?

Summary:

Ginny shifts onto one foot and realizes she should probably say something semi-coherent. "So our exes are getting married," she offers. At least it feels like she's offering—it’s not quite a peace offering, but an offering nonetheless. "And I'm getting drunk," Pansy finishes. She flings her handbag over her shoulder, strides across the room, and pulls open the door. Then she glances over her shoulder and says, "Coming, Weasley?"

Read it on AO3!

The Art of Revealing Secrets

A fic, submitted as part of the @hp-soulmates fest of 2022.

I'm not gonna lie. It was a struggle to get this thing finished. I was actually close to giving up numerous times, but the mods' endless patience, the prolonged extensions and their kind encouragement helped me manage it in the end. I owe you more thanks than I could ever give for that.

Flightinflame was a goldmine when it came for asking for reassurances over specific parts I'd written, which was very important because apart from being King of Drama, I'm also MAster of Self Doubt. Thank you <3

And Emma. Beautiful, lovely, warm-hearted Emma. What would I do without you in my life? Your beating and your excited comments are valuable beyond any comparison. Thank you soooo much @ladderofyears for helping me out with this fic, and for letting me borrow your city for it.

Furthermore, I would like to thank @crazybutgood for sorting through my thoughts and ideas in the early stages of this fic. Without you, I never would have written anything more than an incomprehensible plan. It feels like it's been ages since you and I chatted about the starting points of this fic, and maybe it has been, but nonetheless, you're one of the key ingredients of this fic as well.

And lastly, thank you to @ununquadius who always cheers me on, no matter the weather, the time of day, or how crazy her own life is. I hope you stay safe and take care of yourself. Don't forget to take a deep breath and relax your jaw every once in a while. And drink water.

Without further ado; here's the thumbnail for the fic :)

Dress

Strangers keep me from you in this moment. Precious, pining, waiting, wanting when we are together and alone, but this moment, this evening, wixen political figures spaced in groups, cliques clumping lumpy and inconsistent, keeping me from you in a place we used to regularly share every meal together.

Our friends haven’t figured it out, and I have zero inkling how they haven’t connected to dots yet. Not when I batted my lashes and made the ferret braid my hair the fancy way he knows how, and he sighs heavily, nodding and rolling his eyes. If Harry was going to force him into all our lives now, I was at least going to get something out of it.

And those things were fancy braids to make me feel like a red headed Veela Viking Goddess, and winged eye liner sharp enough to kill a man. Fuck, Malfoy knew his way around a makeup pallet, and I was too busy being possessed by Voldemort’s ghostly teen-self and playing Quidditch (pretending to be hetero) to learn anything about hair and makeup. No matter how hard Lav tried to teach me. And she still does, bless her.

The precisely constructed chunky braids and twists layer together down the nape of my neck and over one shoulder, fluttering golden snitches clipped high in the ginger locks, contrasting the crisp viridian ivy woven through the looser parts of the braid. Malfoy, I admit, did a perfect job complementing the hair with an ethereal fae(not fae, we do not speak of the fae) long winged eye look, smoked out and blended the shimmery sage green eye shadow with a white inner corner, finishing with an airbrushed glow and natural contour.

The dress, though, that was all me. Every minuscule piece of cloth dripping from my skin was for her.

Merlin, she was stunning. Earth shattering. Heart pounding. Face flushing. I felt myself quaking in my heels, knees locking in place to prevent them from trembling, ending with a very hot redhead (me) on the reflective deep granite floor, probably arse up.

But she would like that though, no?

Without question, the champagne was already going to my head and blood stream. My chest, neck, and ears surely scarlet. She was stunning. Did I say that already?

If my goal was to be ethereal, I paled in comparison to my rainbow moonstone. My pearl. My lumos made corporeal.

Her pale skin bounced in the shimmering light of the moon that beamed through the windows, the starlight from the great hall’s ceiling sparkling in her eyes. Hair flowing, silvery, softly curled with an iridescent circlet of a crown, a prismatic amethyst at the center of her forehead, the frame wrapped in wisteria vines. Mini wisterias hung from her earlobes, the second holes stretched around wooden plugs carved with a triple moon.

The lavender tint to her lids was perfect with the deep blue of her liner and the peachy highlighter sparked my heart a blaze with lust, pulse beat thundering hot in my ears.

If we were alone I would fall to my knees at the hem of her celestial blue floor length gown, flecked in star speckled stones and glitter dust, with a long translucent veiled cape that tied around her neck to match in deep purple.

her neckline sucked all the moisture from my mouth, pearl white collarbones so delicious the temptation was real to chew my own tongue for satiation.

The elf ear extensions she added matched my own. I whispered the spell just before leaving my bedroom to meet the boys. The only real hint we were here together, as and the subtle green velvet and gold collar around my neck we have both taken a liking to lately.

I attempted to quell my rapping heart, and reign in my treacherous butterflies fluttering away in my stomach. Betrayal from my own body might have been something I should be used to, but I could still detest it.

I finished my flute, drowning in the dry, bubbly wine. It vanished and a fresh one was replaced by a server before I could blink.

Harry asked me about how the new beater was settling into the Harpies, but Malfoy had to snap his obnoxiously manicured fingers in front of my face to rudely yank me back into reality.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, knowingly, like he counted the shade difference between the blush he pressed over my cheeks earlier, and the current shade of maroon they must be now.

Harry doesn’t notice, because he doesn’t notice a lot when Malfoy is present, and his obliviousness softened Malfoy’s expression to one that was squashy and gooey with emotion. I suddenly felt like an intruder in my own conversation.

Eventually, Malfoy’s hungry eyes infected his mouth and he pulled Harry away to snog and probably do x-rated things in a courtyard or an unsuspecting alcove.

And that’s when I heard the shuffle of ballet flats on the stone, and felt a looming, sparking aura step beside me.

It would look casual and cute, if you weren’t hearing the nasty filth she was speaking low and painfully hot into my ear. I smiled, because she advised me too, and besides if I hadn’t, my jaw would be slackened, and I would be begging her for more.

At this very public function. No less than ten feet away from every person in the Wixen world we know.

My fingers began to worry her cape where it gathered at her side. She chuckled and nodded to grant me permission to touch her.

I did. Swiftly. Desperately. Grasping at her hip like fresh crisp mountain air after a summer of damp heat.

Deftly, her fingernails trace the low back line to my dress, alighting every anticipatory nerve and spreading lustful heat.

She purrs her approval of the deep sage and black beaded gown with a mermaid flare. Her breath tickling the skin exposed by the off shoulder cap sleeve. She tells me as if in casual conversation that the more modest neck line I chose must been chosen to punish her eyes from the swell of my cleavage that should have been hers to view. nibbling my earlobe.

I had to remember how to breathe when her nails trailed up my spine, zinging electrical arousal between my legs at an astonishing speed. Her nose nudged my gold leaf earrings playfully, but it was only to distract from her fingers, dipping her ticklish nails just where my ribs met the side of my breast, and all brain function ceases. Swirling patterns are drawn on my sensitive skin and this time I had to bite my lip to swallow the whine I want to moan for her.

I begged her, as quiet as I can, pleaded in hushed tones for her to take me to the playroom. Take me away. I’ll be a good girl, please.

She laughed, withdrawing her hand, padding to stand in front of me. How could she be so tall without heels? I had three inch heels on and I barely met her at eye level.

She holds my hips and pulls me close, making me rest my head on her shoulder as she poured cool compliments into my ear. Her fingers return to their teasing paisley shaped pattern on my skin, brushing my sides and low back. Dipping under the expensive fabric, holding the carrot of what I really want from her just over my head. Just out of reach. At her mercy always. Hers to play and love and punish because I want her to.

Finally, under the cover of her neck and platinum sheet of hair, I let myself moan into her soft skin, and drag open mouthed kisses up to her ear as we rock to an ancient crackling vinyl record blasting from the player.

She asked me, when we finally overflow with sparking, throbbing nerves and apparate to her playroom, what I was thinking about when I was getting dressed up.

To which I whimpered, “How you would take it off, Mademoiselle.”

“Excelled girl. Good and wonderful, pet, it seems we are in agreement.” Her tongue curled around the words, her tone sweet like toffee into my ear.

The blindfold soothed my heavy eyes with cool satin, and soft cotton. I refrained from grasping for her and was rewarded with her pillow soft lips moving like crashing sea-salt waves on mine. Refreshing and ice cold, but melted molten magma in the passion of yes, finally, and mine.

Her kiss was domicile.

Her touch was intimate with intelligence.

Her voice was visceral, multifaceted,

She knew me. Sweet and soft. Hard and fast. Acquiescent and determined.

(G, 1.1k) For @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

Happy birthday my dear friend. Have some fluffy fluff about our favorite niffler.

Thank to so much to @mosrael for the beta, I got all gushy on ao3 and probably exposed my not-so-secret fandom crush.

Here it is on ao3 for anyone who doesn't want to read below the cut.

Marcellus Horatius Cornelius Flavius the Magnificent, First of his Name— or as he was better known to his humans: Peanut Butter Tater Tot; or even more colloquially: PB— was having a weird day.

Fanfic - SFW

Pansy x Hermione - Harry Potter

Background Luna x Ginny + Draco x Harry

TW: N\A

A03

A\N: Happy Valentine's day everyone! ❤️ This isn't exactly baised on the universe of my upcoming Pansmione fanfiction but some aspects are sprinkled in. I hope you enjoy :)

(I didn't go through and edit it, so sorry for anything)

"Happy Valentine's day, Pansy."

Pansy jolts suddenly, turning to her side to see Luna has popped up by her, smiling brightly. The young platinum blonde woman is covered in glitter, lip stick marks across her cheeks, and holds a large pile of red and pink papers. She radiates more color than the entire hallway they stand in, or even the entirety of Hogwarts.

Pansy raises a brow. "Thanks Luna, happy Valentine's day. You got something..." She vaguely gestures at Luna, "all over you."

Luna chuckles softly. "Ginny loves Valentine's day."

Pansy lets out an airy laugh. "I can see that."

Luna fumbles through the stack of papers in her hands, pulling out a bright pink card, in the shape of a heart, and hands it to Pansy.

Pansy blinks at it, stopping in her tracks. "What is it?"

"It's a Valentine's card. I made it just for you." Luna pushes it forward a bit more. "It isn't cursed or anything."

The corner of Pansy's lips tilt upward. "I didn't think it was." She gentle takes the heart shaped paper. It's covered in glitter and stickers, little drawings and it seems to have a charm making it smell of sugar cookies and chocolate.

Pansy looks back up. "Thank you, Luna. I... I don't have anything for you, I'm sorry."

Luna only smiles. "Don't be. I don't aspect anything in return."

Pansy watches her leave, probably off to find the others she made Valentine's for. Pansy looks back down at the card in her hands and she can't help the small smile on her face.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Happy Valentine's Day, Pans." Ginny smiles as Pansy takes a seat next to her at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall.

"Happy Valentine's day, Ginny." The words feel strange coming out of her mouth, but she means every word. "Luna's really into this Valentine's day stuff, huh?"

Ginny laughs with a soft blush, she also has glitter all over herself. Pansy reaches over and pulls of a sticker of a Niffler off of Ginny's shoulder, holding it up towards the woman. Pansy chuckles at Ginny's flush.

Ginny sticks the sticker on the back of her hand. "Did you get shy Valentine's? Any secret love letters?" Ginny wiggles her brow and Pansy rolls her eyes with a scoff.

"As if."

"Aw. Not even from those gross fourth years?"

Pansy glances over to the group of fourth years who had seemed to get a rather huge crush on her within the last few weeks. Pansy laughs. "No, they know they don't stand a chance." A Fourth year thinking they could get an eighth year? Haliorius.

Ginny raises a brow, leaning over. "And who does stand a chance, Parkinson?"

Pansy narrows her eyes at the mischievous look Ginny holds. "Absolutely no one, Weaslette."

"Not even Hermione?"

Pansy jumps again, Luna stands right behind her with a knowing smiling. Pansy blushes and narrows her eyes.

Ginny wiggles her eyebrows. "You should send her a letter."

Pansy rolls her eyes, grabbing her fork and turning to her food. "Absolutely not."

Luna slides in next to Ginny, resting her chin her her shoulder as they both look at Pansy.

"What?" Ginny smirks. "Too scared to send your crush an love letter?"

Pansy shoots her another glare. "I'm not scared."

"Then do it." Ginny pokes at Pansy's arm.

Luna frowns as she can sense her friend growing uncomfortable and overwhelmed. "Gin, don't push her."

Ginny frowns, taking in Pansy's stance. Her eyes fixated on her plate and she toys with her fork, breath a bit uneven.

She goes to apologise but Owls fly into the Great Hall, each if them dropping letters or gifts at people.

Pansy's owl, Oliver, drops off a small letter before landing on Pansy's shoulder. Pansy blinks at the white envelope before her, heart racing. Oliver hoots softly, and Pansy gives him a loving pet before he flies off.

"Ooh. Looks like someone's got you a letter." Ginny leans over, looking at the envelope with curiosity.

"Open it, Pansy." Luna says softly, a smile on her face that tells Pansy that she knows exactly who gave her this.

Pansy shakes her head. "It's probably just another prank card or one of the fourth years got the courage to send me something."

"Perhaps." Ginny says, smirking. "But what if it isn't?"

Pansy stares at Ginny, uncertain. It very much could be from someone other than a Fourth year or a prankster, but it very much couldn't be from Hermione... Could it?

Sighing, she turns back to the letter, opening it swiftly and pulls out the parchment inside.

'Dear Pansy,

Happy Valentine's day.

I am not sure how to say this or how to go on about this, but I think it's been long enough. I realized that I have always had a crush on you, although I didn't quite know it then. Despite you being an absolute arse throughout the past seven years, I still found you beautiful. And this year, after discovering how sweet you can accutally be - seeing your true self - the crush I had for you flourished into acutal love. It feels so sudden, but then again, everything in my life has always been sudden. I understand you may not return my feelings, and that's alright. I just couldn't go forward without admiting this, and luckily enough Valentine's day is the perfect opportunity.

I am truly falling in love with you, Pansy. And I hope you may be to.

With Love,

Hermione Granger'

Pansy blinked, utterly surprised but not at all disappointed.

"Who's it from?" Pansy turns to see Draco had taken the seat beside her, leaning against the table while looking at her curiously.

Pansy instead turns around, looking for that curly maine at the Gryffindor Table, instead she sees Harry Potter pointing towards the Great Hall doors. She follows and sees what looks like brown curly hair sneaking away.

Without another thought, Pansy stands and follows Hermione with quick steps, not hearing Draco's voice of confusion and Ginny shutting him up.

She catches up to her a hallway away. "Hermione!"

The Gryffindor stops in her tracks, then turns around slowly. "Pansy. I- I'm sorry if that letter was too much. I didn't want to cross any lines or ruin this friendship we- why are you smiling like that?"

Pansy is, indeed, smiling. Probably brighter than she has ever before. "You think too much, 'mione."

Pansy steps forward, letter still in her hand as she takes Hermione's face into her hands. Hermione blushes deeply, eyes wide. "I have to admit... I always had a crush on you, I always knew it, and I definitely am falling into love with you." Hermione smiles brightly making Pansy blush, "and I would like to kiss you right now, if you want me to, that is-."

Hermione closes the distance, lips meeting with a firm but gentle press. It's simple and chaste, but still holds so much emotion, more than words ever could.

Pulling away, Hermione laughs and Pansy joins. For once in her life, Valentine's day hasn't been boring.

“Good morning,” Severus chuckled. “Enjoyed your lie-in?”

“’S still early,” muttered Remus, nuzzling against Severus’ hand.

“Actually, it’s really not,” said Severus. “In fact, our menace of a son and his fiancé will be here in an hour. And they just went cake-tasting with Narcissa, so they’ll be as hyper as their worst days.”

Remus groaned. Young people.

“Come on, love, you know you adore them,” Severus coaxed, then leaned closer as he continued, “If you get up now we have enough time for me to join you in the shower.”

Remus opened his eyes. Severus smirked down at him, dark eyes glittering with mirth.

“A long shower.”

“Of course, my love,” Severus laughed as he pulled Remus up. “Happy birthday.”

* * *