#draconic

mercury conjunct pluto people don’t argue to communicate. they argue to expose. they know exactly where it hurts and they don’t hesitate to press there

sun or moon conjunct, square, or opposite saturn can indicate recurring vision problems or a need for corrective lenses early in life. it’s like the light is being dimmed or restricted by a heavy hand

eleventh house ruler in the twelfth house you want a community but you end up in your own bubble because it’s easier to keep your world small than to let people in

people with sun or moon in the twelfth house tend to be extremely shy because they feel like their essence is meant to be kept private and being seen by others feels like an intrusive violation of their safe space

people with virgo rising or mercury as the chart ruler often have a naturally lithe, delicate, and refined frame that almost always features a small, defined waistline because their physical energy is structured, precise, and rarely prone to surplus

individuals with uranus in hard aspect to the sun or mercury live for the chaos of a last-minute scramble because they are bored by conventional planning and only feel truly alert and alive when they are racing against the clock

people with saturn in the eighth house have a deep-seated mistrust of shared resources and intimacy, leading them to be incredibly cautious and pessimistic about the reliability of others in long-term commitments

people with jupiter in the sixth house or in hard aspect to the ascendant often have a tendency toward overindulgence, which can lead to metabolic issues and challenges in regulating blood sugar because they naturally crave sweets and excess

individuals with a seventh house neptune or a neptune-venus hard aspect are prone to wearing rose-colored glasses, which makes them prime targets for manipulators and people with red flags who can easily mirror whatever fantasy the native wants to see

people who have venus in close aspect to the ascendant or the midheaven naturally have a “charming” voice that draws people in, giving them a magnetic quality in their speech and a potential for musical talent that feels expressive and graceful

individuals with jupiter in the third house love to hear themselves talk and often treat other people’s lives as conversational fodder, frequently overstepping boundaries by giving unsolicited advice or gossiping under the guise of being “helpful”

individuals with mercury in the ninth house have a “preacher” style of communication that is designed to project across long distances, making their voice naturally loud, boisterous, and suited for sharing their opinions with a wide audience

natives with the south node in the seventh house are often here to master independence in this lifetime, meaning they may find that their personal growth is best achieved outside of a committed pair, leading to long stretches where they simply aren’t meant to have a permanent partner

Pride Against Pride

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: When a study session with your boyfriend turned turns into bickering, it quickly becomes a battle of pride, neither you nor Draco were willing to admit who’s wrong

Warnings: no use of y/n

Cw: fluff kinda

Wc: 1k

A/n:  short one for now bc a new series is coming soonnnn and also yes I’m posting every day… I write at night before I sleep and just queue everything like a maniac cause I’m literally free this whole two weeks lol

It had started, like most things between you and Draco, with one of you being wrong.

The problem was that both of you were too stubborn to admit they’re wrong.

You were sitting across from each other at your usual table in the Slytherin common room, the one closest to the fire that you had silently claimed as yours. Books were open, parchment was everywhere, and at some point in the last hour the studying had quietly turned into an argument, the way it always did, the way you both privately looked forward to even though neither of you would ever say so out loud.

"That's wrong," Draco said, not even looking up from his essay.

"It's not wrong."

"It's literally wrong."

"Draco, I swear—"

"Swear all you want," he said, finally glancing up at you with that expression — the calm and unbothered cause he knew he had you — "you're still wrong."

You grabbed the textbook and flipped it open with more force than necessary, the pages fanning out before you found the right one. You slid it across the table so hard it nearly knocked over his inkpot. He caught it without even flinching, which was deeply annoying, steadying it with one hand while he read the page with the other. It took him about five seconds. Then he looked up at you with the single most irritating expression you had ever seen on a human face in your entire life.

"Fine," he said.

You blinked. "Fine what?"

"You're right."

There was a pause while you processed that. "What?"

"Don't make me say it again."

"No, no, hold on," you said, sitting up straighter, "I want to make absolutely sure I heard that correctly, because I could've sworn that you just said—"

"I will take it back."

"You literally cannot take back being wrong—"

"Watch me," he said simply, and pulled the textbook back toward him.

You grabbed it. He grabbed it back without missing a beat, and suddenly you were both holding opposite ends of it, leaning forward across the cluttered table toward each other. He raised one eyebrow, slow and deliberate, like he was daring you to do something about it. You were very aware that his face was about a foot from yours. You were not going to think about that.

"Let go," you said.

"You let go."

"I had it first."

"I need it for my essay," he said pleasantly.

"You just said I was right, so clearly you've already learned what you needed to—"

"I said you were right once," he said, "not that I'd learned anything from it."

From across the common room, Blaise looked up from his own homework for what had to be the fourth time. He looked at Pansy, who was sitting beside him on the sofa with her chin in her hand, watching the two of you with patient, hollow-eyed expression of someone who had been through this many times before and had quietly stopped expecting it to end any differently.

"Are they flirting or fighting?" a fifth year whispered from one of the armchairs.

"I genuinely cannot tell anymore," someone else whispered back.

You let go of the textbook at the exact same moment Draco did. It dropped flat on the table between you with a dull thud. He smoothed down the pages very calmly with his palm, taking his time about it, unbothered in the way that only someone who had won could afford to be unbothered. You pushed your hair back, straightened your parchment, and looked back at your own essay with the dignity of someone who had absolutely not just been in a tug of war over a Potions textbook.

The fire crackled. Someone on the sofa turned a page.

"You have ink on your face," Draco said, after a moment.

You looked up. "Where?"

He didn't answer. Instead he leaned across the table, reaching over all the clutter between you, and wiped it off your cheek with his thumb. He did things like that sometimes without making it a big deal— small, quiet things and the worst part was that it always caught you off guard no matter how many times it happened. It was kind of his way showing you, he cared.

He sat back and picked up his quill like nothing had happened.

"You could've just told me," you said.

"That was faster," he said, eyes on his essay.

"It really wasn't."

He didn't answer, which meant he knew you were right about that one and wasn't going to give you the satisfaction.

You looked back at your own parchment, trying to find your place again. The common room had settled back into its usual quiet, the fire warm at your side, the dark water of the lake pressing soft and still against the windows. Normally this was the part of the evening where the two of you actually got work done, riding the calm on the other side of whatever argument had just burned itself out. Normally.

"Your essay has a mistake in the second paragraph," Draco said.

You didn't look up. "No it doesn't."

"Third line."

"It's fine, Draco."

"It's going to cost you marks," he said.

"My essay," you said, setting your quill down and looking up at him, "is perfect."

He looked at you over the top of his parchment with an expression that was doing a lot of work. His eyes were calm and grey and faintly lit up in a way that had nothing to do with the fire. "Nothing is perfect," he said.

"I am," you said.

Something shifted in his face. It was quick, just a flicker, like a door opening and closing before you could see inside — the way he was always almost smiling around you and pretending he wasn't. He looked back down at his essay. "Read the third line," he said.

You looked at the third line of your essay. You read it once. You read it again. You read it a third time and felt a very specific, very unpleasant feeling settle somewhere low in your stomach, the feeling of someone who is about to have to be quiet about something.

"It's fine," you said.

"It's wrong."

"It's the stylish way of writing—"

"You wrote the wrong name."

You opened your mouth.

"You wrote Golpalott," he said, very calmly, "when you meant Gamp."

There was a pause. A fairly long one.

"That's," you started, "a really easy mistake to make."

"They sound nothing alike."

"They both start with G."

"So do a lot of words," he said. "That's not a defense."

"At least Golpalott sounds better than whatever that is. Come on, who names someone Gamp."

"Just fix it,"he said, fighting the urge to crack a smile.

"I will fix it," you said, with great dignity, "when I'm ready."

He put his quill down. Slowly. Then you saw his shoulders move, just slightly, and you realised that he was laughing. Quietly, with his mouth pressed together, but laughing.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No," he said.

"You're literally laughing at me right now."

"I would never," he said, which was such an obvious lie that it looped back around to being almost impressive.

The problem, was that him laughing made something in your chest go soft and stupid regardless of what you did about it. He had the kind of laugh he kept small and close, the kind he didn't give out to just anyone, and even when it was at your expense it still felt like something you'd been handed. You had never told him that. You were never going to tell him that.

"I hate you," you said instead.

"Fix your essay," he said.

"I genuinely, deeply hate you."

"I love you too," he said, your cheeks burned red from that sudden confession.

You picked up your quill and crossed out the third line with more force than was remotely necessary, pressing hard enough that the parchment dented. Draco watched you do it in silence, wearing the calm expression of someone who had won and was being very mature about it — which meant he was being smug, but quietly, which was somehow worse.

"Thank you," he said, when you were done.

"Don't."

"Very mature."

"Draco, I will actually—"

"Shh." He reached across the table and tapped the top of your parchment twice with two fingers, light and easy. "Write."

You looked at his hand. He hadn't pulled it back. It was just resting there, near the edge of your parchment, close to yours. You looked up at him and found him already looking back at his own essay, quill moving, like he hadn't noticed. Like it was nothing. He was very good at that — making things seem like nothing while they were quietly everything.

You turned back to your essay and started writing.

The common room had gone properly quiet now, the kind of quiet that settled in late at night when most people had drifted off to bed and left only the fire and the low sound of quills on parchment. It was the kind of quiet that you had come to think of as yours, specifically — yours and Draco's — something that existed on the other side of all the noise you made together.

After a few minutes, his pinky finger hooked over yours where your hand rested on the table. He didn't look up. He didn't say anything. It was such a small thing, barely anything at all, just the side of his hand against yours, but he did it the way he did all the quiet things.

You didn't say anything either. You just wrote, and he wrote, and the fire burned low and warm beside you.

From the sofa, Pansy glanced over at the two of you. She looked at Blaise. Blaise looked back at her. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

"They're so annoying," she said finally, quiet enough that it wouldn't carry.

"I know," Blaise said.

"It's actually kind of disgusting."

"I know," he said again, and smiled at his book, and turned the page.

their sun in your 12th house they shine right through the curtains you closed years ago. standing near them feels like being seen in your pajamas without any warning. they spot the things you hide under the bed before you even say hello. your identity feels naked in their orbit plus you find yourself wondering how they know exactly what you’re thinking before you speak.

their moon in your 12th house you find them picking up on the internal weather of your day before your head can even name the feeling. it is a heavy psychic tie that feels like a memory from a house you used to live in. they hear the cry you’ve been holding in your throat. they know your unsaid needs plus they nurture the ghost of the child you left behind.

their mercury in your 12th house they listen to the static in your head. you share a secret dialect that nobody else understands. conversations happen in the long pauses while you’re both staring at the wall. they translate the things you thought were untranslatable plus they hear the words you decided to bury in the back of your mind.

their venus in your 12th house this is a hidden devotion that feels sacred against the noise of the world. they love the parts of you that you find unlovable plus the traits you’ve hidden to stay safe. it feels like a bond that belongs in the quiet hours away from the crowd. you see your own spirit through their eyes plus you finally feel worthy of a heart.

their mars in your 12th house a low hum of friction stays in the room. they poke at the anger you’ve buried under the floorboards since you were a kid. you might find them frustrating plus magnetic for reasons that escape logic. they force you to deal with your own power plus they trigger the desires you’ve been taught to keep hidden.

their jupiter in your 12th house they show up like a guardian exactly when you are about to hit the bottom. their presence brings hope to your inner world plus reminds you that reality is much larger than your private worries. they teach you how to trust the unknown plus expand your spirit simply by walking beside you in the dark.

their saturn in your 12th house a weight of responsibility settles in that feels very old. it acts like a debt you don't remember signing for in this lifetime. they bring order to your internal mess plus you might feel judged for the things you keep hidden. you find your grit plus your boundaries by realizing the only way forward is to face the past.

their uranus in your 12th house a lightning bolt to your subconscious waking up the revolutionary you tried to silence. they break the rules of your private world plus show you that your weirdness is your best asset. their presence feels like a sudden update to the software of your soul plus you find your freedom through their original perspective.

their neptune in your 12th house boundaries dissolve into smoke plus music. a total merger occurs where you lose the thread of where you end plus they begin. you get lost in a shared dream that feels more honest than the physical world. you find peace in the silence together but you have to be careful not to drown in the fog.

their pluto in your 12th house they are the only ones brave enough to sit in your basement until the truth comes out. they trigger total annihilations followed by magnificent rebirths. you feel a terrifying level of intensity because they see the power dynamics you hide from yourself. they don't do safe plus they don't do surface.

their north node in your 12th house a heavy pull toward the parts of yourself you’ve been avoiding. their arrival acts as a map leading you directly into your own subconscious. every interaction pushes you to stop performing plus start looking at the internal horizon you were born to explore. they are the catalyst for your evolution.

their south node in your 12th house the silence between you feels centuries old. you share a hidden history that needs no explanation. being with them feels like revisiting a room you haven't entered in a long time. you are tied together by a secret plus a feeling you both still carry in your bones. it feels like finishing a story that was left half written.

Giratina

A fresh exhibit for the Lumiose Museum.

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