#waitandhope

Wait and Hope / Beginning and End by @mightbewriting

I did these ones as part of a fun project where followers on IG choose the details. I then gifted them to a friend.

‘Sight and Seeing’ by @mightbewriting (A03)

3,5/5 ⭐️ 2/5🌶This is the from the Wait and Hope Series, whose reviews are coming in the next days and Okay, so this a different ship altogether (Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini), but hear me out if you have read any other from the series, the way they are build up is the cutest fluff ever. This is a short 5 chapter story, of Blaise and Theo getting together and the angst in such a short story and in the whole series damn, is a whole other level. The story itself does not have much plot as it jumps back and forth present and future but it’s just so sweet. I’ve never read this ship before, but if they are all as cute as this one hell yeah A trigger warning is a bit of a dark turn sometimes, with some family trauma. You don’t have to read the rest of the series but it will be that much more enjoyable if you do. The smut is just too damn short, but good therefore the lower grade. “And I’ve been pretending I’m not a little bit in love with one of my best friends for years” “I couldn’t risk it. You. I couldn’t risk it” And the quotes are just highlight worth ALL of them P.D: cover also by me :)

If you have any suggestions for this ship I am open for recs!

Our winner for the outtake drabble was the scene wherein Draco tells Theo that Hermione finally used his first name! So please enjoy this little nugget from Theo’s POV from that night! Please note, this takes place directly after chapter three so if you haven’t read Wait and Hope at least through that chapter, you’ll want to do that first! Read it here!  

Theo paced, contemplating his alcohol options. He’d already hidden most of the expensive bottles in a different wing, about as far away as possible from the Floo access Draco kept stumbling through.

Even Blaise had commented that the Nott Manor stores seemed to be running dry. And then he’d gone and offered to curate a more esteemed collection as if Theo’s tastes left something to be desired. If Blaise wanted to curate something, he could curate a new tapestry collection for the north wing after last month’s incident with that fucking cigar. Which is what Theo had told him in not quite so many words.

Theo paused in his pacing. The sudden absence of clacks from his dragon hide shoes made the manor, enormous and empty as ever, feel even more so. A chill passed through him, the dark corners of his haunted childhood home taunting him from the periphery of his vision. Something squalid and vile lingered just beyond the edges of his sight and it did nothing to calm his nerves about how the next few hours of his night would pan out. 

There were a few potential avenues, if he really thought about it.

The first involved Theo being a genius to rival that of the great Hermione Granger. In this scenario, he’d fixed everything in his kidnapping adventure and Draco was currently fucking his wife’s tremendous brains out, problem solved. This was the most ideal option, Theo decided, as it likely included no hexes, curses, or jinxes being sent at him. Frankly, it could probably earn him the title of godfather in the future. 

In the second scenario Hermione ratted him out and Draco was currently plotting Theo’s assuredly very dramatic, very painful death. There would likely be psychological torture involving peacocks. Theo shuddered. Rule loving Gryffindor as she was, Granger wasn’t a snitch so Theo considered this outcome rather unlikely. However, the threat of albino peacocks was enough to force Theo to take the possibility seriously. 

A third option involved failure on Theo’s behalf to convince Hermione to take any sort of pity on Draco. Which meant that soon, a predictably moody Draco would waltz himself into Theo’s home like he owned the place, helping himself to whatever he liked. Just because Draco didn’t have his own estate to prance around anymore didn’t mean he could commandeer Theo’s just because Theo really, truly hated the place. 

The last possibility, of course, was that Draco didn’t show up at all.

Of all of them, this was the least likely. Draco showed up almost every night like clockwork after waiting for Hermione to fall asleep, prepared to vent or drink or sleep in a real bed for a few hours before returning to the vigil that had become his marriage in the early hours of the morning.  

Theo resumed his pacing. His afternoon with Granger had gone well, all things considered. Though he did make her cry, but just the once. Since she didn’t hex him for it he’d essentially already been absolved all his wrongdoing. 

And truth be told, he’d missed the witch. Irritating as her insertion into his life might have seemed at first, she certainly had a sneaking effect on one’s sensibilities worthy of a snake.

The Floo roared to life in a flash of green and a dazed-looking Draco Malfoy stepped through. 

Not ideal. The lack of focus in his eyes meant he wasn’t occluding. And the bit of unsteadiness in his step? Possibly already imbibing. 

“Scotch,” Draco announced as if he owned the fucking place. “We need scotch.”

Theo reached for the cheapest bottle he had, prepared to climb back in the trenches with Draco’s bruised ego and broken heart. Gods, being such a fucking fantastic friend was exhausting. 

“Not that swill,” Draco said with an eery sort of cheeriness. The affectation did not look good on him. Theo could feel a suspicious grimace spreading across his face.

“All out, mate,” he lied.

“I thought Blaise wanted to curate a whole new collection for you?” Draco asked with better clarity that Theo expected from a man already deep into his drink.

“And I told Blaise exactly where he could shove said collection,” Theo muttered. Even quieter, “fucking prat.”

The holler of a laugh Draco released further confirmed for Theo that something was off with his friend. Perhaps he hadn’t been drinking, but the wild sort of mania he saw in front of him was not typical Draco behavior, before or after Hermione’s accident.

“Get the good stuff, Theo, I know you’re just hiding it somewhere,” Draco said when his laughter calmed.

“Not a chance, we’re getting down to the collector’s stuff. I’m not breaking open a 25,000 Galleon bottle to nurse your broken heart, sympathetic as I may be.”

To illustrate his point, Theo poured from what was absolutely going to be a horrific bottle of scotch. The sting from the smell of it alone, even at a respectable distance as Theo poured, did not bode well.

Undeterred, Draco grabbed the drink as soon as Theo finished pouring and knocked it back without a blink. 

“Now get the good stuff,” he said, voice tight from what Theo could only imagine was a terrible burn. “We’re celebrating tonight.”

Celebrating?

Oh? Oh. 

Carefully, ever so carefully, he posed his question, “celebrating what, exactly?”

The dazed expression returned, clouding Draco’s features with a faraway kind of look. He slung an arm around Theo’s shoulder and laughed. Dazed and unhinged, that was really the best way Theo knew how to describe it. 

“She finally said my fucking name,” Draco said. “And she bought me a book.” Technically, Theo bought him the book but the nuance of the matter probably wasn’t worth mentioning. 

“And,” Draco continued with an almost conspiratorial glint behind his eyes. “She sat so close to me I could smell her shampoo and, Merlin, then she asked me about us. Theo. She asked me— about us. And she said my fucking name, did I mention that part?” Draco released a sigh he’d probably been holding since January if Theo had to place a bet on it. 

With an arm still slung around Theo’s shoulder, Draco steered them from the room. “Now where’s this 25,000 Galleon bottle?”

Theo showed him. 

Wait and Hope by @mightbewriting

This fic has one of my favorite Draco’s. I am also a sucker for the memory loss trope, so this one ticked all the boxes for me.

The cover was inspired by classic The Count of Monte Cristo books (because obviously)

The final chapter of Wait and Hope has been posted, read it here!

Also, everything is a spoiler, so please enjoy the most innocuous snippet I could pick that didn’t immediately give everything away:

“I made tea,” Hermione said. She ran her hands through his messed hair, brushing it back into something resembling his usual style. It caught her in moments like that, when Draco seemed his most human, just how distractingly handsome she found him, just how much he could love him.

He frowned.

“I’ll make my own,” he said, standing. He glanced back at her. She had her head tilted question. “There’s a reason I always make the tea, love,” he said, twisting and lowering himself to soften the blow of his words with a kiss. “Yours is terrible.”

“My tea tastes just fine,” she insisted, unsure if the fiery feeling in her chest came from indignation or amusement. “I can’t even tell the difference from what you made yesterday.”

A familiar smile flashed across his features, one she didn’t see often anymore. It was the smile that said they’d had this conversation at least once before.

Chapter NINE is posted. Find it here.

“On that topic,” Hermione interrupted. “I think I’d like to have sex with my husband again.”

Draco choked on his toast mid-swallow. He cleared his throat, blinked, and ran a hand from his brows, down the side of his face, and to his jaw.

“Fucking Gryffindor,” he finally said. “You can’t just spring something like that on a man.”

Hermione had spent the past few months making a sport out of getting him to smile. She didn’t realize how much fun catching him off guard could be, too. She smiled.

“You’re serious?” he asked with a look of incredulity. Then it shifted to something more awed. “You’re serious,” he repeated.

“I’m serious.”

Ahhhhh @reyloismyreligion​ made a pretty for Wait and Hope and it has given me all the feels. It’s serving us SOFA. It’s giving us the RING. And then there’s the goddamn TWIRL.