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Scorpius got a Weasley Jumper too. It's like he's part of the family! And Rose got, well, a rose! It's artificial, but enchanted to have the fragrance of a real rose.
Happy holidays @thebloodtraitorgirl ! I an your Secret Santa! Despite Scorbus being my OTP I thought it would be fun to do some Scorose :)
Keep in mind that I don't normally draw normal looking people so this is kind of a first attempt.
This is for the lovely @nooowestayandgetcaught as I was their Secret Santa! Iâm so sorry this is coming so late, and honestly I have no valid excuse except that I kept procrastinating.  As requested, here you have a piece I wrote, keeping in mind Luna and Harry, characters both you and I love. Hope you like it, and that you have a wonderful year ahead!  - Love, AditiÂ
Luna had just gotten out of her herbology class, mud smeared on her nose. Luna especially loved herbology class- the smell of wet mud, the feel of the leaves against her fingertips, and how the plants seemed to be thrumming with life even when they were completely still. She loved seeing the dust particles dance and twirl in the sunlight. But most especially she loved the way the sunlight felt, the warm, funny feeling it left behind even when she was back inside. It felt rather the way she felt when she thought of her friends- Neville, calm and happy with his hands in the mud, his eyebrows crinkled a bit in confusion when she told him excitedly about a new creature her father had told her about but nodding his head and listening anyway, hints of bewilderment concealed by warmth and affection in his eyes. Ginny, fire flashing in her eyes like the copper in her hair as she released scorching words upon those who had dared make fun of Luna, and the way her chin raised stubbornly when it came to those she loved. Harry, his hair a mass of wild, uncontrollable black, parts of his bright green eyes colored always with the shadow of death and grief that the lighting shaped scar on his forehead had cast upon him. The slightly lost, confused and thoughtful expression that he always had about him, the way it seemed he kept his laughter inside him until it burst out. Ron, always reminding her of a bright orange, like his hair- casually worded jokes, spluttering laughter, annoyance and affection mingling in eyes as he bickered with Hermione, the same set to his jaw as his sister. Hermione, her wild hair clouding her face, looking at the world around her with sharp eyes, judgement and questions in her eyes melting into love when she accepted someone as her friend, the way she smelled parchment secretly when she thought no one was looking.
It was these fond thoughts she had been indulging in as she went through the corridor that she heard a peculiar wailing sound coming from the girlâs washroom. At first, she had dismissed it as the Moaning Myrtle, but there was just something in the way the wail sounded- the heartbreak and tiredness in those broken sounds- that made had her turn back and peer inside.
To her surprise, it was Hermione inside, standing in front of the cracked mirror and yellowed marble sink. Sympathy flowed through her as she gingerly approached Hermione- Hermione, who so seldom appeared vulnerable like this, her sharp and curious eyes always seeming to have guard on them, never so openly hopeless or downcast like this.
Luna slid her arms around her, not knowing what to say or do that would make her feel better. After all, people always seemed to react strangely to things she said.
So, she simply hugged her friend and hoped she would fee through it what she wanted to say, all the things she told herself when the world hurt her- that it would be okay, and that people could be unkind and cruel with their thoughtless words but that there were friends who would love her- that she was not alone. Â
She couldnât tell whether or not it worked, but after some time her wails dissolved into sobs and mutters. Luna was sure she distinctly heard her say ââOh Ronââ once but decided not to inquire further. Hermione nodded, and let Luna lead her out of the washroom.
Hermioneâs eyes widened a bit as they were walking out and Luna looked to see why. It was Harry, struggling to carry a huge pile of books, his distinctly Harry expression of confusion amplified by both his concern for Hermione and the fact that one of his eyebrows was bright yellow.
She suddenly felt a great surge of affection for her friend and greeted him.
ââOh, hello Harry! Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?ââ inquired Luna.
ââHi Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff.ââ Harry said, his voice trailing off as he took in the details of Hermioneâs swollen eyes and wet tear tracks on her cheeks. He handed her the pile of books he had been carrying.
Hermione hastily grabbed pile. ââOh yes. Thank you, Harry. Well, Iâd better get goingâŚââ she said as she rushed off before any of them could say anything any further.
Harry and Luna stood there, watching her disappear in a mass of wavy brown hair and soft sniffles down the long-winded corridor.
ââSheâs a bit upsetââ Luna clarified. ââAt first, I thought it was Moaning Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be Hermione. ââ ââShe said something about that Ron Weasleyââ she added as bit of an afterthought, hoping to provide Harry some further insight from the incident.
ââYeah, theyâve had a rowââ Harry replied, answering her curiosity.
ââHe says very funny things sometimes, doesnât he? But he can be a bit unkind. I noticed that last year.ââ She said, recalling instances of their fifth year. The way he had made her laugh with his joke back in the train coach on their first day of fifth year, and the way his eyebrows had disappeared behind his messy fringe when he saw her roaring lion hat, his snickers when she had turned her back. She had felt confused, back then. Now she saw more. It wasnât that he meant to hurt people- it was just that he didnât think or see much before he spoke. The air of not feeling important or significant hung off him like an old cloth- maybe he just didnât think that his words or actions could impact the person in front of them that much, or that other people could interpret his actions any differently. She suspected when people whom he loved and who loved him, like Hermione, got hurt by him, he was simply unable to understand why and how.
ââI sâpose..ââ said Harry, shifting her from her reverie. He looked tired, as if he was battling many thoughts inside his head. ââSo⌠have you had a good term?ââ he asked, shaking his head slightly, as if changing the subject inside his head from Ron, Hermione and multiple other things to Luna and making conversation with her.
ââOh itâs been alright⌠A bit lonely without the DA though.ââ She said, recounting being in the Room of Requirement again- what it had felt like, listening and laughing and learning with a group of people and feeling like one of them. ââGinnyâs been nice though. She stopped two boys from calling me Loony in the transfiguration class the other dayââ she smiled and shook her head a bit recalling the incident when Harry interrupted her.
ââHow would you like to come with me to Slughornâs party tonight?ââ he asked suddenly. He was looking at with his head tilted a bit to one side, his expression curious to know her answer, eyes scrunched up upwards a bit.
ââSlughornâs party? With you? ââ she said her eyes wide. A party. Here was her friend, and he was asking her to a party. No one had ever asked her to a party before.
Harry buried his hand in his hair and continued awkwardly âYeah⌠we were supposed to bring guests, so I thought you might like..I mean.ââ Interpreting her silence as misinterpretation or refusal he rushed on, his eyes a bit wider ââI mean just as friends, you know. But if you donât want toâŚââ
ââOh no Iâd love to go with you as friends! No oneâs ever asked me to a party before, as a friend! Is that why youâve dyed your eyebrow? Should I do mine too, to match?ââ Her hands fluttering to her own eyebrows, fluttering with excitement, eyes sparkling.
Harry looked at her with an odd mixture of love, affection, and amusement twinkling in his eyes as he shook his head and said ââno you donât need to!ââ hastily, hints of a smile tugging at his mouth as he scurried down the corridor.
Thinking about everything that had happened throughout the morning, and what she was thinking of after herbology class, she hummed and skipped along the hallway to her next class.
Friends. She had friends. She loved them, and they loved her.
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hi so hereâs my gift for the harry potter secret santa (hosted by @maidenofbagend ) for @tozier-reddie ! itâs not much, but i hope you like it anyway. happy holidays and happy new year! :)
pairing: seamus finnigan/dean thomas
rating: teen and up audiences
word count: 1193 words
The day Seamus first met Dean was rainy.
They found each other looking for the same book for their first year at Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in a bookshop called Flourish & Blotts. Forming a team to search for it, they quickly became friends and spent the rest of the day laughing and chasing each other around Diagon Alley until their parents told them it was time to go home. They promised to look for each other at the Hogwarts express the next week, and that Seamus would bring him one of the awesome cookies his mom made to prove they were better than the ones Deanâs dadâs.
Seamus fell asleep that day thinking of his new friend and of all the adventures they would go on together.
The day Dean and Seamus became best friends wasnât too long after.
They had been sorted into the same house and slept in the same room, so it wasnât much of surprise they became a package deal. They were joined at the hips, always together in both class and free time, and sometimes Dean even stayed to wait for Seamus to get out of detention after he had set something on fire again. One day Seamus asked him if he wanted to be his best friend, and Dean laughed and said that heâd thought they already were.
Seamus fell into bed smiling that day, thinking of his best friend and brainstorming what to give him for Christmas.
The day Seamus came out as gay to Dean was in the summer holidays.
Seamus had sent Dean a letter because heâd been too nervous to tell him in person, even though he knew heâd be supportive. Probably. Heâd sent the owl off and spent the day anxiously awaiting a response from his best friend. He waited the whole day, not leaving his house in fear of missing it, but the whole day, nothing. Only when he had almost given up and decided to head to bed, something knocked on his window. The owl was back, with a letter full of supportive words and a PS: Me too. at the bottom.
Seamus fell into bed that day, laughing about himself and his ridiculous thinking that Dean wouldnât like him anymore now.
The day Seamus realized he was in love with Dean was in their fourth year.
Heâd spent the day lazily lounging on the grass by the lake after school, absorbing the first warm rays the sun sent down and watching his best friend draw in the sketchbook heâd given him for his birthday. Heâd been following the curve of Deanâs cheekbones when he realized that normal best friends probably didnât spend their free time admiring the way the other looked when he was concentrated, or the way he got a dimple near his eye when he laughed too hard. He blushed and looked away, trying not to think about the shape of Deanâs lips.
Seamus fell into bed that day worrying about their friendship and resolving to just keep it quiet, assuring himself he could live with it.
The day Seamus told Dean about his feelings a few months later was categorized in Seamusâ book as one of the worst of his life.
He hadnât been able to just forget his feelings and live on as heâd previously thought, no, instead it had been a painful mess of fondness when Dean was around him and jealousy when he wasnât. One day he just couldnât take it anymore and told his friend when they were walking from class out to their usual spot by the lake. Dean had stopped and looked at Seamus incredulously. Seamus had winced and tried to explain that it didnât matter and that they could still be friends, right, but Dean had brushed him off and run away, muttering he needed to think. Seamus fell into bed that day crying and angry with himself for not just keeping quiet and ruining everything.
The day Dean asked Seamus to be boyfriends was the day immediately after.
Heâd come up to him in the morning and asked to talk, and Seamus had almost said no, but couldnât bring himself to actually turn him down. Theyâd gone into the bathroom and Dean had said that he liked him back, and that he would very much like to be boyfriends if Seamus didnât hate him now. Seamus threw his arms around him and hugged him, before slapping him and telling him that yes, he would still very much like to date him.
They kissed and came out holding hands, and Seamus fell into bed that day smiling and cuddling with the boy he liked.
The day they had their first fight as a couple Seamus felt like his heart was ripped in two.
He didnât even remember what it had been about, only that itâd been awful and that theyâd both said terrible things they hadnât really meant. He ran outside to the quidditch pitch to clear his head and when he came back, Dean was gone. Their dormmates had said that heâd gone to sleep in another room for that day because he needed his space. Seamus fell into bed that day feeling hollow and trying to forget.
The day they made up was just shortly after and made Seamusâ heart sing.
Dean had come up to him and theyâd talked it out and apologized. Theyâd skipped class to cuddle after and then sneaked down to the kitchen for ice cream and some quiet. Theyâd kissed and Seamus had blown up another potion, but they were together again.
Seamus fell into bed that day feeling whole again.
The day Dean almost died, Seamus realized he wouldnât be able to live without this man.
Theyâd fought for their school and the light side against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, trying to keep an eye on each other because they both didnât think they could handle the other getting hurt. Seamus had been distracted by another Death Eater for just a second when he turned around to see Deanâs limp body fall down. His heart had stopped and heâd rushed over to his partner. His relief when he saw that Dean wasnât dead was enough to make his knees wobble, and the rage that he was injured enough to kill the next Death Eater he saw.
Heâd rushed Dean to the hospital as soon as he could and waited and waited and waited while the healers looked after him. For two weeks he sat at his loverâs bedside, waiting for him to recover, desperately hoping that he would wake up at all.
The day he did, Seamus fell into bed crying soft tears of joy, finally able to relax in the knowledge that his partner wasnât going to die.
The day Dean came home Seamus cried and hugged him for the longest time heâd ever had.
Dean had smiled softly and hugged him back, and theyâd had a quiet night in. Theyâd cooked and cuddled and talked, and if Seamus fell asleep wrapped up in his loverâs arms, well, then that was nobodyâs business but his.
Harry sighed, stepping into the warm Honeydukes shop. He needed a quick gift for Hermione and Ron. Usually heâd put more effort in it, but he was already busy planning the entire Christmas party for his eighth year classmates, so he didnât have time to pick up anything special.
Harry shrugged off the snow on his shoulders and turned to the nearest display. Chocolate frogs. Perfect for Ron. He reached over and his hand suddenly brushed against another. He looked up, startled.
âOh, Malfoy.â He said lamely, withdrawing his hand.
âPotter,â Malfoy responded, face tight and haughty as always. He looked tense and there was a tiredness to his eyes. But, then again, he seemed to always look tired nowadays.
âSorry, go ahead,â Harry gestured to the candy.
ââŚ. Thanks,â Malfoy nodded curtly, grabbing a few and dropping them into a candy bag.
Harry smiled at him, ââCourse.â
They stood there, awkwardly for a moment, before Malfoy glared down at him.
âAre you going to grab a frog or are you just going to stare at me all day?â
âOh! Sorry.â Harry quickly took a few scoops worth of the chocolates and plopped them in his own bag. He exhaled loudly, trying to shake away his slight embarrassment. When he looked up again, he was surprised to see Malfoy still standing there.
âEr⌠Alright there, Malfoy?â
Malfoys lips tightened, as if he were thinking of speaking. Or maybe he was trying to hold something back. Either way, he shook his head and turned abruptly. Before he could fully walk away, Harryâs hand shot out and grabbed his arm.
âWait.â
Malfoy looked back at him, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
âAh. You're- Youâre coming to the eighth year Christmas party, right? Itâs just going to be in our common room, but stillâŚâ
âI⌠was thinking about it.â
âGood. You should come.â Harryâs cheeks reddened, âEr, everyoneâs coming. So itâd be a waste if you didnât at least⌠What I mean is-â
âIâll go, Potter. Now can I have my arm back?â Malfoys face was angled away from him, but he could have sworn he saw his ears turn pink.
âRight. Sorry. Good.â
Malfoy nodded again and stalked off, disappearing behind an aisle. Harry had a strange urge to follow him, but he continued to shop, pushing the feeling away.
â
Harry looked around the room once more. The festivities were in full swing. Tinsel, fairy lights, floating decorations and a large Christmas tree took up most of the room. All the eighth year students filled up the spaces, drinking firewhisky and butterbeer. But mostly firewhisky. Part of Harry wished he didnât bring it based on how everyone was acting. Some were normal, just speaking loudly and laughing at everything. Others⌠a bit more sloppy when it came to basic tasks. Or human interactions.
Harry wanted to pay attention to it all, whether that be calming everyone or enjoying the night, but he felt restless for some reason. Well⌠not âsomeâ reason. Definitely one reason.
âYou alright, mate?â Ron nudged him, searching in Harryâs line of sight. âLooking for someone?â
âOh, no, not real-â
âSome party this is, Potter. Iâm only an hour late and everyoneâs wasted.â
Harry spun around, eyes landing on Malfoy, but was quickly distracted by the bright green character on his chest. He almost chuckled at the Christmas jumper he was wearing. It sported a green snake wearing a Santa hat.
Malfoy saw his expression and looked down, his cheeks flushing. âPansy made me wear it. Its stupid, I know.â
âNo, itâs not. Itâs cute.â
Ron coughed mid-drink, spilling firewhisky on his jumper. Malfoys eyes widened slightly and he looked away, face redder than before.
âItâs just a nice jumper, is all,â Harry tried to back track, but the smirk on Rons face wasnât helping.
âHeâs right, Malfoy. Itâs cute.â Ron snickered.
âOh, bugger off, the two of you.â Malfoy huffed and stomped off towards the refreshment table.
âThanks, Ron.â
âThat was all you, mate.â
Harry sighed, watching Malfoy angrily pour firewhisky into his cup.
âWell?â
Harry blinked, raising an eyebrow at Ron. âWhat?â
âYouâre not going to go after him? You know, for all the staring youâve done this year, thereâs finally an event that warrants a conversation for conversations sake. Youâd be wasting an opportunity if you just stood there like a right git.â
âBugger off.â
Harry ignored Rons fading laughter as he walked back up to Malfoy.
âHey, sorry. I wasnât making fun of you.â
Malfoy jumped, but quickly regained his composure. âSure.â
âReally, I wasnât. Itâs a cute jumper, I swear.â
âAlright, alright,â He waved him off. âYou can stop saying that.â
âWhat? Cute?â
âYes,â He practically hissed.
Harry smirked, âYou donât like being called cute?â
âI-!â Malfoy looked flustered, glancing around him as if he was worried theyâd be heard. No one was paying attention. And if they were, they werenât sober enough to remember anything. âFirst of all, you didnât call me cute. You called the jumper cute. Second, anyone would hate being called that. Itâs undignified.â
âHa!â Harry snorted at that.
âWhat?â
âNothing. Nothing. Youâre just acting cute, is all.â
âUgh!â Malfoy took a swig of his drink. Harry assumed it was to hide his face. âDid you come over here for a reason, or just to annoy me?â
âBoth.â
Malfoy glared at him. Harry grinned in response.
âCome with me.â
âWhy?â
âI have something for you.â
Malfoy shot him a suspicious look, but Harry was already tugging him to the hallway and into his room.
âMake yourself comfy. I just have to look for it.â
âUgh,â Malfoy looked around his side of the dorm, placing his cup on the cluttered nightstand. âYouâre filthy.â
âOh? So if I checked your room right now, itâd be spotless.â Harry called from underneath the bed, rummaging around for a box.
âI-â He was silent for a moment. âMind your business, Potter.â
Harry laughed, finally finding the wrapped gift he hid. He stood up and sat at the end of his mattress, patting the spot next to him. Malfoy pursed his lips, unmoving.
âCome on.â
âBut IâŚâ Malfoys face dropped. âI didnât get you anything. I didnât knowâŚâ
Something in Harryâs chest throbbed. âTrust me, you didnât need to get me anything. Youâll understand in a second. Just sit.â
Malfoy slowly made his way over, sitting farther than Harry had indicated. Harry smiled at him, gently placing the gift in his lap. âGo on.â
He sighed, gingerly unwrapping the box and opening the lid. He gasped. âPotterâŚâ
âItâs your wand. Sorry I didnât give it to you earlier. I just thought⌠Plus, I cleaned it. I got this wand polishing kit and-" Harry stopped when he noticed the tears welling up in Malfoys eyes. âWhatâs wrong? Iâm sorry, I should have given it to you earlier.â
âNo, no.â Malfoy rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. His voice was thick. âItâs just⌠I canât take this. Iâm on probation from the ministry and-â His voice cracked. He took a deep breath to steady himself. â-and Im not allowed to have a wand until I graduate.â
âOh. I didnât know.â Harry hesitantly put a hand on Malfoy's back. He rubbed small, soothing circles on his shoulder. âDonât worry. Iâll keep it safe for you until you graduate.â
He exhaled, sitting straighter and wiping the stray tears that fell to his cheeks. âYou donât have to do that, Harry. Iâll just give it to the ministry to take care of.â
âWhatâŚ?â
âThe ministry. Theyâll take care of it.â
Harry grinned, âYou said âHarryâ.â
âHuh?â Malfoy blinked at him, before his eyes went wide. âNo, I didnât! Who cares? Itâs your name. Piss off.â
Harry laughed, hand clutching at Malfoys jumper as he doubled over.
âShut up, Potter!â
âSorry, Sorry.â
Harry wiped at his eyes, sitting back up. He chuckled still and grinned at Malfoy. "I mean it, though."
"Mean what?" Malfoy pouted, still embarrassed.
"I'll take care of the wand for you⌠I don't trust the ministry. They might try to keep it from you without reason."
He raised an eyebrow at him, "You? Not trusting the authorities. That's unusual."
"Is it?"
"Mm⌠Maybe not so much." Malfoy nodded to himself. He looked down at his lap, hands hovering over the wand, as if afraid to touch it. Harry watched him for a moment.
"Thank you."
Malfoy glanced up at him, expression confused but also soft. "For what?"
"Saving me," Harry breathed. He trailed his hand from Malfoy's shoulder to his hand, grasping it tightly. "At the manor."
Malfoy gulped, but he didn't look away. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. Scared. "What else was I supposed to do?"
"Tell them it was me?"
Malfoy shook his head. He looked down at their hands. "I wasn't doing it for you, Harry. I was doing it for me. For my parents. I needed you to win for us."
"Well, I'm grateful anyways."
They sat there for another moment before Malfoy stood up suddenly, ripping his hand away and placing the box into Harry's lap. "Right, well. Thank you for the gift that's not really a gift but actually mine. You better polish it every week, Potter, or I swear-"
He stopped, back towards him and frozen where he stood.
"Thank you, Harry." He said at last, "I'm glad you're still here⌠With me."
And then he was walking swiftly out the door.
"Wait, what?" Harry jumped to his feet, following after him. He quickly grabbed him before they could cross the threshold to the common room. "Malfoy, wait a moment-"
"Ooh!" Came a squeal from the crowd of drunk wizards and witches. Parkinson was swaying on the spot, cup in one hand and the other pointing just above the two of them. "Mistletoe!"
Harry looked up to see a handful of mistletoe growing down from the hallway entrance. The other students who heard Parkinson's outburst turned in their direction, already whopping and hollering. Harry cringed, glancing back to see Malfoy's shocked expression.
"I couldn't possibly!" He spluttered.
"Do it!" Came Ron's drunk voice.
"Ron," Hermione chastised.
âDo it,â Came Lunaâs whispy voice.
âLuna.â
Soon everyone in the room was chanting "Do it! Do it!", most slurring the words as they did so. Harry caught Malfoy's eye and shrugged.
"They're not gonna remember anything."
"Excuse me?" He responded, scandalized.
Harry laughed, "Oh, come on. It's just a kiss."
"That is not the point-"
"Draco," Harry leaned in with a grin on his face, whispering, "Just kiss me."
Malfoy stared at him, brows furrowed. For a moment, Harry thought he made him angry until Malfoy proved him wrong by grabbing a handful of his jumper and pressing their mouths together. It was quick and clumsy, but it sent a warmth through his body all the way to his toes. And before Harry could react, Malfoy had let him go and disappeared within the deafening crowd. Harry blinked rapidly, trying to find his bearings when he heard Ron yell out, "Well? Don't just stand there like a right git."
Harry grinned as he pushed through the throng, giving in to the urge to follow that cute Christmas snake.
Happy Belated Christmas! Iâm so happy I was able to be apart of the secret santa this year. Hope you like it @cozyteacups!!
