#spaceaas

Harry stumbles down to breakfast and does a double take while grabbing the toast. Hermione usually has tea with breakfast, but instead she's got a large glass of what looks like iced coffee with a squiggly straw in it. "What's that?"

"Hm?" she looks up at him. "Latte."

Okay. "What kind?"

"Lavender with oat milk," she says, then holds it out to him, "Want to try?"

He doesn't think oats produce milk. Is this another wizarding thing no one thought to tell him about? "Sure."

(oooh not in any wips, I’ll write a wee drabble!! Drarry + Pansmione)

(AO3 Link)

“How did you manage to talk him into this?” Pansy asked, watching Harry leave their private box to nip off to the loo during intermission. “I never thought I’d see the day Potter attended the opera.”

“Hmm?” Draco was still distracted by the romantic drivel Blaise was spewing to his date. It was exactly, almost word for word, dialogue from a muggle movie Harry had made him watch the other day. He was sure of it. “Oh, I have this look he can’t resist. How did you get your sleeping beauty to come? Promised her a good nap?” 

Pansy turned to where Hermione was indeed dozing in her chair. Draco couldn’t see her face, but he knew she’d be pulling some sort of love sick expression.

“Well, if our dates can’t appreciate the opera, at least we have each other,” she said with a sigh as she turned back to him. “But seriously, what look?”

Draco smirked. “Oh, I just widen my eyes a little and think sad thoughts. Gets him every time. Playing the hero is his Achilles’ heel, always has been. I just mope about how lonely I’ll be if he doesn’t come and then he offers. Loves to swoop in and save me. Ridiculous, but useful.”

She gave him a very unimpressed look. “Or maybe he sees right through your terrible acting and just loves you enough to do what makes you happy even if it bores him?”

Draco scoffed. “We’re not there yet.”

Pansy scoffed right back. “Sure, keep telling yourself that while you slowly shift your things into his flat in a passive aggressive attempt to get him to ask you to move in.”

Draco opened his mouth to tell her she was being ridiculous only to close it again. He had just been complaining to her earlier that day that his favourite shirt was at Harry’s. And his second favourite belt. His good shoes from when he’d stayed the night after that charity dinner. His best formal robes. Several of his favourite novels were on the bedside table, now that he thought about it. 

Good lord. He even had a toothbrush there. When had he even bought a second toothbrush?

“Yeah, not there yet,” Pansy snickered.

(Yikes, I’m out of practice writing drabbles from tiny prompts XD I tried?)

Here ya go :) 

Hey! Guess who ended up properly writing that thing I sent you at 1 am the other night! 

Fluffly Linny headcanon/story incoming ~

When Ginny arrives at the Lovegood’s, Luna is waiting for her by the stream that flows near her house.

Luna’s wearing a flowery T-shirt and baggy dungarees that have more pockets than she can count, her hair tied in two long, messy braids.

She’s holding a bunch of wildflowers in her hand, but some of them get smushed when Ginny lands from her broom just a few feet away from Luna and practically crashes against her as she runs into her arms.

They hug, and laugh, and hug some more, and when they finally pull apart Luna realises that quite a number of freckles have blossomed all over Ginny’s face since the beginning of the summer.

She kisses those freckles, making Ginny groan and giggle and pull her close again so she can nuzzle Luna’s soft cheek and call her an idiot.

And sniff the scent of her hair rather shamelessly, of course.

Before Luna can call her out on that last thing, Ginny steps back and says, “Look!” opening her arms and puffing out her chest.

Her flat chest.

“Ooooh.” Luna grins. “No boob day, then?”

“No boob day,” Ginny nods. “I finally found a spell that doesn’t hurt my ribs!”

Luna holds Ginny again; tells her how handsome she looks. Asks if she can feel her chest—presses her palm to Ginny’s Holyhead Harpies T-shirt.

Luna may not be particularly interested in snogging, but she loves that they’re always touching. Always snuggling, or holding hands, or brushing their arms when they walk. Always twining their legs under the table, and fidgeting with the other’s fingers, and playing with the other’s hair. 

The last thing is exactly what Ginny is doing when she jokes about how cool it’d be if they could just exchange chests at will. She says it lightly—smiling at all the fuzz and loose fine hair floating around Luna’s braids. 

It’s an inside joke between them: how Ginny wouldn’t mind having narrower hips and a flat chest, and how Luna would love to feel curves when she touches herself the same way she does when she caresses Ginny’s waist.

They’ve played with spells before. They’ve talked about Polyjuicing into one another once or twice, but have so far always decided against it.

Fantasising together about it, though, is something they both love. So Luna laughs and tells Ginny she would be honoured to give a home to such beautiful boobs.

As she does so, she tucks a flower behind Ginny’s ear—a white, small daisy. 

“Perfect,” Luna declares, and then she fondles the back of Ginny’s buzz cut.

“That’s what you are,” Ginny says, letting her hand fall from Luna’s hair and into one of the many, many pockets in Luna’s dungarees. 

“How coincidental—you too!” Luna beams.

Ginny kisses the corner of her lips. “Shall we go to the clearing then?”

Luna picks up her picnic basket from the ground. She’s baked cookies for the occasion. “Ready when you are.”

They mount Ginny’s broom and fly to their secret place in the middle of the forest.

(Oops I accidentally made Ginny a nonbinary butch and Luna an ace trans girl)

Unapologetically using paint 2k19

Bonus: