harry looked back into the red eyes

Draco wasn’t breathing. 

Why wasn’t he breathing?

Had Harry done something wrong?

He tightened his grip around Draco, hugging him closer, closer, closer, breathing soft words of encouragement in his ear. “Please, baby,” Harry whispered, his heart hammering in his chest because why wasn’t Draco breathing? “Talk to me.” 

Draco jerked in his arms, as if slapped, and he choked back a sob, “I - I can’t -”

“I’m sorry -” Harry immediately said, kissing the top of Draco’s head. “You don’t need to do anything, baby, I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent, burying himself deep against Harry’s chest. Draco kept jerking in Harry’s arms, as if in war with himself, not sure if he wanted to bolt or get closer, closer, closer

Why was Draco crying?

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry tried tentatively after a while, rocking them from side to side. 

(What? It seemed to calm toddlers down - there was no reason why it wouldn’t do the trick for Draco.)

“No,” Draco whispered into his chest, heaving. “I - it’s my fault - I -”

“Your fault?”

Draco nodded. “I - I’m - you’re gay and I’m… I’m not a real boy -”

“Oh.”

So that was the problem. “Draco,” Harry started carefully, “you are. Just because you don’t have a cock -”

Draco giggled - hiccoughed a dry sob. “Vulgar.”

“Shut up,” Harry smiled. “I mean it, though. You’re a boy.”

“I’m not -”

“You are.” Harry said firmly, his grip on Draco so tight it might bruise. “I’m gay, you’re a boy -”

“Harry -”

“- and I am incredibly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Draco said, his breath hot on Harry’s neck. He was silent for a while, almost scarily still, until he slowly tilted his head to look up at Harry. His eyes were red, his cheeks wet with tears, and he had never looked more beautiful. “Oh,” he repeated, a smile breaking through. “I love you too.”

Harry kissed his nose. 

Partly because he knew it would make Draco giggle again.

Partly just because he could.

But mostly because, though still crying, Draco was breathing again. 

Something About a Dream

First off, thank you to the many comments I’ve received about the series so far. It makes me feel amazing, and keeps me wanting to post, so thank you again. Second off, I already know where I am going with them, but, if you want, let me know what more you want to see as they grow. x

You can find the past parts here.

To put it simply, Harry was distraught.

He imagined the first time seeing you naked to be some life changing experience, and for the most part he was right, but he envisioned it to be more on the romantic side, with his naked form hovering above you as he reaches into his bedside table for a condom, not when he scampers into his bedroom to find a pair a socks, only to be met with your naked figure bent over to retrieve the towel that had fallen to a heap at your feet – but nothing ever goes the way he wants them to.

Ever.

For all the times he’s spent his mornings with a hand wrapped around his cock envisioning you rocking greedily against him, back arched and your nails digging into his thigh, he realizes you’re just as flawless as he daydreamed, even if he only got a few second glimpses before he stumbled out of the doorway, not even a peep leaving his lips.

Now, he was expected to share breakfast with the image of your bare arse forever etched in his head.

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The Train - Part Two

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 4100

Prompt: Y/N walks in, and Harry notices she’s wearing yellow again, this time it’s a yellow sweater with a pair of dark skinny jeans and brown ankle boots, her hair is pulled back into a pony tail with a white scrunchie with little smiling suns and he swears that he has to squint to look at her. “Oh! I know you-you’re the guy from the train,” Y/N beams, “Harry, right?” she sets down the tray of muffins.

“I didn’t tell you my name,” Harry snaps.

Y/N pouts, “well yeah, but I’m also not stupid,” she says.

“Are you joining us today Harry?” the man asked, “I’m Seth, I run the group.”

“Why else would I fucking be here,” Harry grumbled.

Y/N grabs a muffin, ignoring Harry’s sour attitude, “here, they’re made with love,” she smiled, holding out the blueberry muffin.

“Fuck off,” Harry says. He watches as her smile fades and the glint in her eyes seems to disappear, for a split second Harry feels like a dick, but then he realizes he doesn’t care and Y/N should just shove the muffin up her ass.

Part One


Harry felt empty.

Drinking seemed pointless and as did life. He found himself wishing he could be a part of crowds, go out and enjoy life, but he couldn’t. Every time he did force himself to go out he was counting down the seconds till he could be back in his own space. He felt as if her were drowning, as if he were sinking and everyone just happened to swim right by him. He felt like he was screaming for help, for someone, for anyone to just hold him, to just lay with him, but no one listened.

He had disconnected from everyone completely, shutting off his phone, not checking his emails, or even going on social media. The only time he left his house where for the meetings, anytime Seth could fit him in, and train rides. Each and every time he hoped Y/N would be there, but after three meetings he had given up.

Harry hadn’t showered in three days and he looked like it. He wondered if he smelled but he really didn’t care. He had no one to impress and at this point anything he did felt like a ten-mile race. He almost didn’t show up for group therapy because that meant getting out of bed and facing the reality that is life. The world that tells him what he’s feeling is all in his head and he needs to get over it and write more music. The world that tells him it’s okay to have a fever or break his leg, but the moment he feels alone and numb he needs to get over it. The world that wants Harry Styles but not Harry Styles.

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Okay but riding Harry in a bath tub..

Candles lit around you two in the dark room, as the scent of sweet lavender lingers in the air. You kiss Harry’s jawline as his hands rest on your bum, giving it a good squeeze when you get to the sweet spot right under his ear, blowing some cooling air on the wet mark.

He tries and lifts you up a bit, just so he can kiss your chest, wrap his lips around your nipple and suckle the sensitive nubbin. Your back arches when he flicks his tongue, making you push yourself more against his cock. He moans against your skin, his eyes closed and his wet curls combed back by his fingers.

You grind your hips slowly against his shaft, earning an angelic whimper from his perfectly o-shaped lips as his lashes flutter. You look at him, and you can see the pain his eyes trying so gard to keep his dark eyes locked with yours.

“Please, baby. Could yeh, um-” Harry trails off, pushing your hair down your back and tracing his fingers on your collarbones.

“What baby? What do you want?” you ask him, adding more pressure to your grinds this time. Harry’s breath hitches and he whimpers again, his legs slightly trembling under you.

“Plea-.. please ride me. Please baby.”

You take hold of his hard shaft and settle it to your entrance. Just to tease him, you only take in his red sensitive tip. Then you slowly start to sink down on him, his hips shifting under you, and he starts panting.

“Like this baby? Does it feel good?” You coo at him, and he bites his bottom lip between his teeth, nodding quickly.

“Uh-huh.”

You take Harry’s hands and guide them to take hold of your hips. As you start to get into a good rhythm, Harry’s veins and ridges massaging your wet walls, making you cleanch around him, his grip on your hips tightens and he’s trying to gently thrust up into you.

“Ungh, ahh fuck. Jus’ like tha’, slide down m’ cock, so fucking wet and snug fo’ me.”

married- h.s imagine

You stared at the guests as they made their way into the church for the ceremony that was starting soon. You looked down at your bracelet and let out a sigh. You turned the bracelet over to look at the engraving To my best friend, I will always love you. -Harry

As you stared at your bracelet, you couldn’t help but to let a tear fall. You angrily wiped it away. You had no one to blame but yourself. You couldn’t feel sorry for yourself because you could’ve prevented all of this. You never told Harry your true feelings for him. You never told Harry how much you meant to him and how you knew in your heart that he was with the wrong girl. Now, here you are at Harry’s wedding.

You glanced at the time on your phone and realized it was almost time for the ceremony to start. You let out a shaky sigh as you made your way back into the church. As you were about to go into the restroom to clean up your tear stained face, you saw Niall looking around the hallway. When his eyes met yours, he visibly let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been looking for you ,Y/N.” Niall said as he approached you.

Immediately, he noticed how your eyes were red from crying. “Oh Y/N” Niall sighed as he pulled you into a hug. Niall was the only one to know about your feelings for Harry. When Harry and his fiancé, Kimberly, had their engagement party, Niall noticed how you spent most of the party sitting outside. When he went to check up on you and scold you for sitting out in the cold, you were sobbing into your arms. Finally, you opened up to someone and told Niall how it broke your heart that Harry couldn’t see your feelings for him.

You pulled back from the hug slightly, “I’m fine, Niall. What did you need me for?” Niall let out a hum as he scratched the back of his neck, “Harry’s looking for you.” You let out a sigh as you shook your head. You quickly wiped your eyes once more, careful not to ruin your makeup any more than you did, and started making your way to Harry’s room.


You knocked on the door softly and let yourself in when you heard Harry telling you to come in. A smile instantly found its way to your face. Harry gave you a smile as he stared at your reflection in the mirror. He turned around to look at you properly, “What do you think?” You walked up to Harry and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug, “Oh H. You look so handsome.”

Harry smiled and returned the hug. He then pulled you at arm’s length. You felt your face flush as you noticed Harry’s eyes on you. “You look so beautiful, Y/N.”

You looked down at your light grey dress and smiled. Harry insisted you to be in his wedding somehow. He couldn’t not have his best friend standing at his side. After Kimberly’s dismay, you were one of her bridesmaids.

You cleared his throat as you took a seat on the couch that was in the room. “Niall said you were looking for me.”

Harry nodded and let out a puff of air as he sat down beside you. He ran his hand through his hair as he stared up at the ceiling, “I’m nervous, Y/N.”

You nodded your head as you looked up at the ceiling as well. “Of course you are. It’s your wedding. You should feel nervous.”

Harry shook his head no, “I’m not nervous about the wedding. I’m nervous about the future.” He looked at you before he continued, “What if I’m making the wrong decision by rushing into this?’

You looked down at your bracelet and began running your index finger across it, a habit you picked up whenever you were feeling nervous. “I think…if Kimberly makes you feel loved and if you cherish her as a much as you say you do…that you’re not rushing into this as all.”

Harry wore a soft smile as he listened to your advice and nodded your head. He reached across, interrupting you playing with your bracelet, and held on to your hand. “I can always count on you, Y/N. You’re truly my best friend.”

You could’ve easily told Harry that yes. He was rushing into things. You could’ve told him that he was making a mistake and that you just knew he belonged to you but looking into his eyes…Hearing him talk about his love for Kimberly…you knew you couldn’t. With that thought in your head, your eyes started to brim with tears. Harry tilted his head questionably at you and with a smile on his face, he asked, “Oh Y/N. Are you crying because it’s my wedding day?”

You let out a shaky laugh and nodded your head, “Yes.”


You took your place with the other bridesmaids and waited for Kimberly to come down the aisle. As the music started to play, signaling her arrival, everyone’s eyes were on the blushing bride but your eyes were looking at Harry’s. You noticed as he stared at the love of his life walking up to him, his eyes had tears. The kind of tears you get when you just love someone so much you could feel your heart burst out of your chest. You knew those kind of tears because it was the kind of tears you had whenever you thought about Harry. You looked down at the bouquet of flowers you were holding and felt your eyes water again. Quietly you let out a sniffle.

As the ceremony went on, it was time for Harry to say his vows. He wiped a tear from his eye, making everyone in the room awe. He let out a small chuckle as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He looked at the paper and smiled before he looked back into Kimberly’s eyes. “Love. Can you believe we’re here? Can you believe we’re getting married? I know I don’t. To this day, I’m still amazed that I’ve manage to have the privilege of getting to know such an amazing and beautiful girl. I promise to always love you. I promise to let you be right when I know you’re wrong. I promise to never go to bed angry at each other. I promise to be your best friend for the rest of our lives. I promise to never hurt you. I promise to always remain loyal. I promise to be yours.”

Niall leaned up a little from the groomsmen side to have a look at you. He sighed as he saw how you were visibly shaking from sadness. He knew that everything Harry was saying to Kimberly, you wished he was saying to you. He looked at the ground as he softly shook his head, his heart breaking for his friend.

After Kimberly said her vows to Harry and the pastor giving his blessing, the pastor finally said the seven words that were jabs to your heart, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” When Harry and Kimberly broke off the kiss, the whole room cheered. Everyone rose to their feet as the couple walked down the aisle as husband and wife. As the room started to clear out, everyone anxious to congratulate the newlyweds, you lagged behind. Soon enough you were the last in the church room. You sat down on one of the chairs set up and placed your head into your hands as you let out a quiet sob. Harry was married.


first off i would like to say this is not the best imagine i’ve written lol. ITS 3AM AND I STARTED WRITING THIS LIKE A WEEK AGO AND IM JUST NOW FINISHING IT TONIGHT OK? lol anyways if you guys liked this rubbish piece of writing then i am so glad to hear that! please let me know! if you didn’t, hey, i get it. i didn’t even proofread im so tired lol

you can read part two here

you can find all my writing here

Something About a Moment

First, if you haven’t read the earlier installments, you can so here. Second, thank you for sticking with me through this, and I hope you enjoy this. It’s 1 am so I’m too tired to go on a long spiel, but I hope you enjoy. x

The first time Harry imagined what it would be like to undress you, it didn’t involve you passed out in his bed after sobbing through a bottle of Jack Daniels, but to his surprise, nothing ever turns out the way he envisions things anyway. And with his fingers fumbling with the buttons of your jeans, he diverted his attention to the corner of the room as he removed each leg carefully, and set the pants over the edge of the bed.

After successfully maneuvering your limp body into an old pair of basketball shorts, and subtracting your shirt for his grey Harley Davidson tee, he situated yourself beneath the covers, leaking a glass of water and two Tylenol on his bedside table – along with an empty trashcan in case your drinks of the night violently get rejected from your system at any given point – and quietly shut the door behind him as he showed himself to his guest room.

The first time he imagined you in his bed also didn’t quite fit under this scenario, nor does it begin with him catching sight of you at the bar with another man that’s not Niall – though Niall was in tow – but he digresses. The only thing that wanders around Harry’s mind as he lays flat on his back, eyes planted to the ceiling, was the look of utter relief that covered your face when your hesitant glances met his from across the bar only hours before.

He didn’t know his name, didn’t know his relation to you, and didn’t know how this bloke was able to sidle up so easily next to you and succeed his advances, but with your head leant back resting on the cushion of the booth seats, arms folded over your torso, and your male counterpart resting his arm just behind your head, it didn’t take much for Harry to process that whoever this guy was, he was able to step quicker than he ever could, and in conclusion, got you before he stood a chance.

For a girl who doesn’t date, he must be special, he thought.

Keep reading

Shakespeare (Part VIII)

(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Hi!! So sorry this was so late!! It’s pretty heavy. But I hope you guys enjoy it. I really liked writing it. As always, all feedback is appreciated!! Xx


Reading makes you a better writer.

That’s what you’re thinking as you finish up the fifth paragraph of your latest paper. All of your previous assignments have taken days to complete, but here you are, flying through an analysis of a Wordsworth poem. It might have to do with all the help Harry’s been giving you, too.

Your phone buzzes on the desk beside you and you snatch it up immediately. You’re in the quiet section again. Harry’s name pops up on the screen and you answer, holding the phone to your ear as you whisper into the receiver.

“Hi, there,” you greet with a smile.

“Y/N?”

The voice isn’t Harry’s. It’s American and much higher than his drawling rumble. Your smile fades into a confused frown.

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Flutterflies

Summary: In which Draco becomes friends with the golden trio in first year and seven years later he’s hopelessly in love with Harry.

Word Count: 14.6k

Includes: smut yo

you can also read on ao3

Keep reading

Frozen

“Oh, Malfoy.” Draco looked up to see Harry, nearly an hour late, standing in the doorway of Andromeda’s kitchen. “You’re still here.”

“No, actually I’m not here.” Draco said dryly as his eyes went back to his book. “This is just your imagination acting up. Tell me again Potter, why do you fantasize about a pissed off Draco Malfoy in your cousin’s kitchen?”

Teddy snorted and looked up from his History of magic homework as his hair turned from red to light blue. “Wow, my cool uncle and my fun uncle in the same room. It’s just like that crossover episode between icarly and Victorious.” He looked from Harry to Draco and back. “Wicked.”

“Well, since your funny uncle has arrived I’ll get cracking. Try not to die while I’m gone.” Draco stood up and gathered his coat, book and phone. Then however, he stopped, because Harry was still blocking the doorway and he had no plans to walk up to him and have an awkward which-way-shall-we-go moment. Harry, however, didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.

“You think you’re the cool uncle?” There was an undertone of pity in his amused comment, and hearing it sent a wave of nausea through Draco’s stomach. He didn’t know where that had come from, but he knew he wanted to leave. Now.

“I don’t think, I know. Ever heard of that word Potter? It means you’re actually certain of something before you blurt it out. Now move out of the way I have better things to do than sit around here all day while you’re neglecting Ted.” He stepped forward, in sync with Harry stepping sideways. Not to let him through, but to block his way out even further.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Every hint of amusement had melted away from his green eyes, and what was left now wasn’t pity, but anger.

“What that means is that you ought to start acting like a responsible adult and become a person Teddy can actually rely on.” Where Harry’s eyes were gleaming with fire, Draco’s eyes glittered with ice. Anyone but Harry would have trembled under the stone cold look he shot him.

“Well excuse me Malfoy, but last time I checked I had a job that sometimes runs late while you sit on your arse all day doing nothi-” Crack. With a loud snap Harry’s glasses froze and the glass inside them broke. Not a second later Draco shoved him out of the way and stalked towards the fire.

“What the fuck Malfoy?!” Harry spun around towards the now blurry figure of Draco and stared at it with bafflement, though that was quickly overcome with anger.

“Surprise surprise Potter, you’re not the only one with powerful accidental magic.” He grabbed some floo powder and stepped into the heart. “Next time try to use some of those grey cells of yours before you open the sinkhole on your face.”

Then, with a swirl of green flames, he was gone.

“And that’s why he’s the cool uncle.” Came Teddy’s voice from the kitchen. Harry frustratedly tried to run a hand through his hair. Tried, because it was frozen solid.

“What the…” Harry stammered.

“A very cool uncle.”


I have no idea what the fuck this is

anonymous asked:

Can you write a fluffy Drarry getting together drabble where they've both been hanging out with Teddy, and they're not together. But like, Teddy doesn't realize because they act like a couple already, and he asks why they don't do couple-y things like Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron, and it leads to Drarry. I absolutely love your writing, and I'm glad you've gotten your spark back. It sucks to be a writer with no inspiration (been there, done that).

thank you so much!

My Writing


Harry arrived at Andromeda’s house to see that Draco was there once again. He had been there hanging out with Teddy the past three times Harry was there. It was nice. The two of them actually got along now, and they enjoyed spending time together and with Teddy.

Harry smiled to himself before greeting Draco and Teddy.

“Hey you two.”

Both Draco and Teddy turned to see Harry standing at the door.

“Harry!” Teddy shouted happily and ran over to give him a hug.

Harry chuckled and hugged him back before looking at Draco with a smirk.

“Do I get a hug from you, too?”

Draco’s cheeks turned pink, and he playfully rolled his eyes before turning away to begin picking up Teddy’s toys.

Harry’s smirk grew as he walked up behind Draco and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“By that I meant, please give me a hug, Draco.”

“Shut up,” Draco mumbled, blushing even more, but smiled at Harry.

Harry continued flirting with Draco throughout the night, and he found Draco’s reactions to be extremely amusing.

The three of them then moved to sit on the couch just to chat for a while, and Ron and Hermione somehow came up in the conversation.

“The two of them are going out to a fancy dinner tonight. Hermione is really excited because they haven’t been on a date in a while.”

Draco nodded in understanding, and then Teddy cut into the conversation.

“How come you two never go on dates?” He asked.

Harry smiled down at Teddy.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you two are together, just like them, right? So why don’t you guys go out to fancy dinners?” 

Harry chuckled. Teddy, only being seven years old, must have mistaken Harry’s teasing flirting as them actually being a couple.

He glanced at Draco to see him looking down at his hands and his cheeks a shade of bright red.

“We’re not together, Teddy. Not like Ron and Hermione.”

Teddy cocked his head in confusion.

“But you act like they do. Like giving each other hugs and stuff.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well it’s just…different.”

Teddy then turned to Draco.

“But you like Harry, don’t you, Draco? I head you telling my grandma about him just last week.”

Draco looked at him with wide eyes and refused to look at Harry.

“W-Well I…he’s nice and…I-I like him as a friend, but we’re not…” Draco trailed off, not wanting to embarrass himself even more.

Harry smiled to himself and decided to let this slide…for now.

They played board games for a while until Teddy got tired and wanted to go to bed.

“So,” Harry began as he and Draco walked out of Teddy’s bedroom. “You like me?”

Draco wanted to slap the smirk off of Harry’s face.

“No, I hate you, Potter. You know that.”

Harry’s smirk only grew, and he stepped in front of Draco so he couldn’t continue walking.

“Mm, it doesn’t seem that way.”

Draco huffed and tried to step around Harry, but it was to no avail. Harry just moved with him, and then backed him up against the wall.

Draco quickly became a flustered mess.

“I like you too,” Harry whispered before softly pressing his lips to Draco’s.

Draco gasped as their lips connected, but then quickly responded to the kiss by wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.

They stood there kissing for what seemed like forever until they were interrupted.

“I thought you weren’t a couple!” A small voice nearly shrieked.

Harry whipped around to see Teddy standing there, looking at them with wide eyes.

Harry grinned at him.

“It’s complicated, Teddy. Just go back to bed and don’t tell your grandmother about this, okay?”

Teddy nodded hesitantly and walked back into his bedroom.

Harry then turned back to Draco to resume their kiss.

Oh all the comrades that e'er I’ve had
Are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I’ve had
Would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I’ll gently rise and I’ll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all

who else hears the parting glass and thinks of Harry? just me? ok

anonymous asked:

Maybe 29 or 30!!

anon: 29!!

i took these two requests and merged them together! hope you both enjoy :-) 💝

29. “Come over here and make me.”

30. “You better watch yourself.”


Games with Harry are fun, Y/N will admit.

He’s ace at Scrabble, a great opponent at Monopoly and surprisingly incredible at Twister, considering he’s such a clumsy dolt (she credits his success to his lanky limbs).

But there is one game in particular that is Y/N’s favorite to play with Harry because she knows she always has a fighting chance of winning: their sex withdrawal game.

She doesn’t know if it’s necessarily a game– a bet is more like it. The rules are fairly simple: No sex for an agreed amount of time and the person that caves first has to do all of the dishes for a week. Kissing and canoodling is allowed, but they can’t touch each other anywhere between the legs. Breaking that guideline accounts for immediate forfeit. Plain and simple.

It’s Harry’s favorite game as well and ever since he got off on a small break from promo, a couple of weeks before the movie comes out, he’s been itching to get home to start a round of it with Y/N. With everything that has been happening in the past couple of months, they hadn’t done it in a while and he thinks it’s about time they go head-to-head once again (pun intended).

Keep reading

This Isn't Rocket Surgery

Harry knew Wood and Flint had an intense rivalry and made nothing of his teammates eye rolls when they got into a rouse, he just assumed it was their annoyance and the pair’s constant quarrelling.

That’s partly why he was confused when he one night he was under his invisibility cloak, walking through the corridors, only to look down at the Marauder’s map to see they were in a nearby classroom together. He had to hold his breath when he saw Oliver hastily walk out of the class room, face red and his hands in his pockets as he walked back to Gryffindor tower. A few moments later, Flint walked out, walking down to the Slytherin dungeon.

He thought nothing of it until two years later he heard whispers of their elopement.

Harry could never imagine what it must’ve been like to think your best friend was a murderer for twelve years. He never wanted to put himself in Remus or Sirius shoes. The thought was heartbreaking.

He was a little surprised how quickly Remus and Sirius swung back into each other, like they hadn’t lost twelve years. He could tell their relationship was close.

Maybe he should’ve thought there was something more before he caught a glimpse of them asleep in the same bed, fingers intertwined together in their slumber.

Harry always noticed how well Katie and Alicia played together. Same position lead them to almost be one person on the field. Harry wouldn’t call himself a bearer of any knowledge on female friendships so he really thought nothing off it when he would see the pair cuddled together in the common room. He came to the conclusion that’s just how girls were.

He felt a little clueless when he saw them kiss during the celebration of winning the house cup in his fifth year.

Harry figured it was natural for people to pair off when they got to Hogwarts. He gravitated towards Ron, and Dean and Seamus to each other. In ways he knew their friendship was closer in ways than his was with Ron or Hermione.

He thought nothing of Seamus’s demeanour when Dean was dating Ginny. He thought the frown etched onto his face was from nothing but sheer annoyance that his best friend was ignoring him for a girl.

Seeing Seamus run to kiss Dean when he returned to Hogwarts after maybe close to a year of not seeing each other made him realise they were more like Ron and Hermione than himself and Ron.

Parvati and Lavender were just mere annoyances to Harry most of the time. From eating up everything they heard in Divination to their pestering giggles.

Seeing the two together after the war, Parvati holding Lavender whose injuries were clear and giving her a sweet, soft kiss was small, but enough to know even the platonic implications were none.

Admittedly, Harry barely knew Hannah and Susan. They were really just a couple of Hufflepuff faces.

One night while at Hogsmeade he decided to stop by the Hog’s Head rather than attending the popular location of the Three Broomsticks. Whilst sat at a table alone, across the way he saw Hannah, the new owner talking to Susan. Face full of love, he saw Susan give Hannah a peck on the lips before retreating upstairs.

Small, intimate, and loving. Gestures he’d expect of two Hufflepuffs but still let the smallest smile on his lips.

The word divorce rang in Harry’s ears. Ginny standing with tears rolling down her face, whispering words of apology. But there was no kind or gentle way to say it. Ginny was in love with Luna and it was requited.

He didn’t want to think about the procedure and the press and the gossip and least of all the kids.

He simple pulled her into a hug.

Harry felt like he should’ve known sooner. At earlier, Scorpius and Albus’s fourth year. Seeing the two seventeen year old stare at their fathers, their eyes begging for validation and love was unnecessary and he wished he could’ve seen the obvious sooner.

But Draco smiled and nodded, looking at Harry to do the same. He nodded, assuring his son it was okay and both of their bodies relaxed, fingers intertwining.

While Draco joked about their future wedding, Harry saw Albus squeeze Scorpius’s hands and let the smallest of smiles onto his lips.

Birthday Bows

Originally posted by smiling-calum


Warning: light bondage.

Snow fell soundlessly from the heavy clouds above as you and Harry trekked home from his birthday dinner. He had suggested calling a taxi when you left his friends at the restaurant, mentioning that the two of you may have had a few too many and it was a bit chilly for a midnight stroll. But the second the first flake hit your nose and you took in the way the light from the street lamps reflected off the fresh fallen snow down the path toward home, you insisted on walking.

“It’s like a postcard, Harry,” you said hopefully, pushing him to concede. Your giddy smile and flushed cheeks are what got him to agree even though he knew you’d both be chilled to the bone by the time you got home. But for now you had each other and the alcohol in your bellies to keep warm.

You had both drank more than you planned, especially Harry. But the wine had been flowing and the conversation among friends was rolling; it was the most at ease you had seen Harry in weeks. Prepping for tour always got him a bit stressed, and you only had a few more weeks before he hit the road again, so you weren’t going to put a stop to the drinking and dampen the mood. You just hoped Harry would be up for all you had planned upon the return home; you knew how a wine drunk got him a bit sleepy.

But you were reassured that Harry was less drunk than he seemed as you cut through the park together and you lost your footing a bit on the slick footpath. Before you could tumble sideways into the snowdrifts, Harry’s grip on your hand tightened as he reached to steady you by the waist. He looked down at you, checking to make sure you were all right and as an amused smile broke out across your lips, he busted out laughing.

Laughter echoed through the empty park. You clung to the edges of Harry’s coat, burying your face in his chest as you continued to giggle. His hand caressed the back of your neck as he kissed your temple. “And I thought I had too much to drink, love.”

“Hey!” You swatted his chest playfully, causing him to put his hands up to defend himself. “I’m not drunk, the path is icy.”

“Sure, love.”

“Harry, really!” you giggled. “I’m not drunk.” He eyed you knowingly. It may have been dark, but you knew his eyes were shining as they always did when he was being playful. “Just a bit tipsy.”

“Just a bit tipsy,” he repeated, throwing his arm over your shoulders and continuing the journey home.

“Yes,” you said firmly before adding under your breath, “I needed to boost my confidence for later anyway.”

“Hmm?” Harry glanced down at you with intrigue. You gave him a coy smile and shrugged. He wasn’t satisfied, but he didn’t feel the need to press further. Home was close and he’d get it out of you soon enough.

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Harry's reaction to becoming a father.

Okay, I’m sorry in advance, BUT THIS HAS BEEN IN MY MIND ALL DAY.

Harry is slumped back against the sofa, his long legs crossed and covered in tight black jeans, a phone wrapped in his big hand, his eyes glued to the screen.

You walk up to him, a wide smile spread across your face, holding the pregnancy test behind your back. Standing in front of him, you circle your hips and lift yourself up on your heels, until Harry looks up to you.

“Wha’ is it, pet?” he asks, an amused smile on his face. He has puffy under eyes, and curls spread across his forehead, and a light scruff covering his chin and jawline.

Without a word, you hand him the pregnancy test, and he hesitates at first, thinking, is it what he thinks it is? Are you serious?

“Tell me what it says.”

“It.. it has two red lines.” he reads in disbelief, looking up to you wide eyed, and his mouth falls agape.

“You’re going to be a dad, Harry.”

Harry gets up on the second you speak your words, his eyes getting glossier from the tears of joy and amazement.

“Wha’? Are yeh serious?” He asks hastily, feeling his heart starting to beat faster. You nod to him, and that’s when he loses it.

He crouches down, hiding his face in his palms, soft cries leaving his lips. He’s mumbling something, something in the lines of:

“Oh my god. I can’t believe this. I’ve waited so long, and now it’s happening.”

You also crouch down to him, tuck a curly strand of hair behind his ear, and stroke Harry’s hand with your thumb, asking him to show you his face.

He finally reveals his now even puffier red eyes, flushed out cheeks and trembling cherry lips, that are still curved up into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“I’m gonna be a dad.”

anonymous asked:

Thank you for that adorable addition to Draco the sweater stealer, it gives me life to see him being all sweet to Harry :-D is it too soon to ask for more because I am willing to trade my soul for more of the adorable wizards trying to deny they aren't a couple?

Hope you don’t mind a little Romione as well  ❤


Stealing Sweaters (Part 3)

“I thought the eighth year game was finished?” Hermione asked as she came down to the front of the stands and sat next to Ron on a bench.

Ron nodded, slightly leant forward as he watched the two figures hanging motionless above them, “Yeah… we played without seekers, first to three hundred. Afterwards, those two stayed to play a seeker game.”

Hermione craned her neck up, “Malfoy and Harry?”

“Harry’s caught it twice. Malfoy was pissed and tried to leave but Harry talked him into one more game.” Ron never took his eyes away from them as they slowly circled above.

Then Draco dived, his eyes locked on a shining golden movement below. Harry followed instinctively, with a curling sweeping turn that brought him closer, pushing his own dive deeper for more speed, closing the distance between them. Draco glanced back and then flattened himself to his broom with a scowl of determination. Harry was nearly at his side as they raced along the pitch, both of them fixated on the little golden ball. The snitch veered right, away from Harry, and Draco turned with it, his whole body stretching out into the turn, lunging out and- he stopped, slowly pulling his hand towards him, only the snitch’s little golden fluttering wings visible from his fist.

“He did it!” Hermione cried.

Ron cupped his hands around his mouth, “Good on ya, Malfoy!!”

Draco looked over at them briefly, eyes wide with shock, and then back down at the snitch in his hand.

Harry flew over, nearly knocking them both off their brooms as he threw his arms around Draco in a boisterous hug, “Merlin! That was amazing!”

Ron blindly reached out for Hermione’s hand, grasping it tightly.

Hermione’s eyes widened, “Do you see-?”

Ron nodded, his voice croaked out, “He’s blushing. Malfoy’s blushing. I think he’s finally realised”

Hermione squeezed Ron’s hand and they glanced at each other for just a second before their eyes were torn back to the scene in front of them.

Draco’s cheeks were flushed pink. His expression warred between confusion and embarrassment and that was being overtaken by a realisation that made his whole face begin to turn red. He ducked out of Harry’s grip with a desperate halfheartedly complaint of, “Get off me, Potter,” and quickly descended onto the pitch, practically throwing himself off his broom and nearly running back towards the castle.

Ron and Hermione leant over the railing. Harry landed as well, looking utterly confused. He called after Draco as he ran to try and catch up but Draco ignored him.

“Thank Merlin, one of them has finally figured it out,” Ron said with a sigh of relief.

Hermione smiled briefly, “Yeah but… it’s Malfoy.”

Ron grimaced, “and he’s a coward.”

“And Harry’s awful when it comes to romantic stuff. He may never realise it, not if Malfoy’s trying to hide it,” Hermione added.

Ron stood, keeping hold of Hermione’s hand as they made their way out of the stand, “At least there’s hope now.”

“Maybe we can help things along?” Hermione suggested.

Ron glanced over and grinned, “I mean, we pretty much have to with those two.”


Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~  Part 3 (you are here) ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6

anonymous asked:

What's the funniest thing one of you all have done while drunk?

( @o0o-chibaken-o0o  ❤️)

Harry: Well, you guys know all about my husband hugging a stranger–

Draco: Can we not–

Harry: And I’ve never embarrassed myself like that. 

Draco: Pft, you sure there?

Harry: *blinks*

Draco: One word: Daddy.

Harry: *loud groan* Noooo, Draco, oh my god!

Draco: *snorting through his giggles* Okay, so this one time during a dinner party at the Manor, Harry got really bored and ended up guzzling a lot more wine than is advisable and, after a point, was so drunk that he was making conversation with the suits of armor–

Harry: I didn’t speak to any suits of armo–

Draco: And it was definitely a stroke of sheer bad luck that it was Father who found him wandering around–

Harry: *groans again*

Draco: *forcing down his laughter* And by the time Father leads him back to me, he is red in the face with Harry hanging off his shoulder–

Harry: Oh for fuck’s sake–

Draco: And he was laughing so hard that he was basically drooling– *pauses to heave with laughter* –and the idiot kept saying to Father, “You’re Draco’s Daddy, aren’t you? Has he ever called you that by the way? Daddy?–” *eyes watering with mirth* “–’cause he’s called me that, you know?”

Harry: Noooo– *flops down sideways and hides his face in the cushions*

Draco: *helpless laughter* And although I nearly died at the time, Harry’s look of pure horror the next day was just– *doubles over*

Write me another story

Write me a world where Love is to Love, not blood and quarreling and bitterness

Write me a world where a Godfather is worth more than an aunt who neither cares nor loves

Write a world with justice

Write me a world where someone stopped to listen to Sirius Black.

Write us a world where Mad-eye stood up for Sirius’ chance to defend himself because “it doesn’t matter how it looks, dammit, vigilance goes both ways, you watch your back against the people you fight with but you watch their backs too” where Minerva trusted her gut “I don’t know, Albus, remember those boys…” where Dumbledore used his political clout and paid attention and made a difference

Write me a world where there was time in the rejoicing of the aftermath of Voldemort’s defeat to stop and, not recoiling in horror from betrayal and murder and a decimated corpse, locking it up and throwing away the key, to take it and examine it and think for a second before destroying another life

Write me a world where a young man, terrified and heartbroken and completely lost, is handed a new world and a tiny human life as he walks out of Ministry security

Write me a world where a one-year-old laughs for the first time in a week when he sees his godfather, who comes for dinner every thursday night and throws him highest in the air - even higher than daddy - where is daddy - begins to whimper then laughs again when Sirius picks him out of Minerva’s arms

Write me a Deep Magic written into a stronger, stranger, older bond than DNA, a Dumbledore who sits his old pupil down in his office (with Snape - eyes red and face haggard - and Minerva and Flitwick standing behind) and sits down between them on the desk this child who wraps one tiny chubby hand around one of each of their fingers and grips tight; A Dumbledore who explains as best he can to an exhausted starving 21-year-old “Sirius, Harry’s mother gave her life for son… you are his Godfather and the one they both loved the most, will you love Harry like they did, will you protect him? Because I believe -” And a Sirius Black who cannot shut up (Sirius Black never could shut up), who blurts “YES yes of course please Dumbledore let me look after him, he’s mine now, its my job - I’m sorry I should have - my fault, it’s my (Minerva steps forward and lifts a hand towards his shoulder - he cannot stop saying my fault since it happened) - and, when Harry starts to whine again at the distress in his voice - “dear Merlin he’s soaking why has no-one changed him yet, I’m sorry, lil’ man -” (and Minerva lets the hand fall).

Write me a new visitor at the Weasleys’ that night, because “really, Sirius, you can’t keep him there now the place is freezing and trust me dearie I’ve got seven already one more bottle won’t make a difference now go and have a shower and NO I won’t hear of it you are STAYING THE NIGHT now look Bill dear, yes, he’s Harry, you’re right, no, a bit younger than Ron, I think, that’s right Sirius dear isn’t it, he’s…” but Sirius has already gone for a shower and the hot water rushes down his back like pure relief that finally, finally, here’s something like normality and finally, finally, he lets himself cry for his best friends, for his brother, for one more orphan in the world.

Write me a broken man with red eyes and a child who is only happy because he doesn’t understand, but a boiled egg is the best thing either of them could have possibly seen on that night.

Write me a Remus who appears in the middle of the chaos which is egg-and-soldiers-night at the Weasleys’ with a bang that sends the children shrieking and grabs his friend and hugs him tight “damn you damnyoudamnyoutohell Black don’t you ever ever do that to me again where’s Harry” and they both break down again and Molly scolds him for swearing and makes them a cup of tea and Arthur chases the children up to bed and they all sit down in the living room and take stock of this new world and try to tell themselves that now the children will grow up safe, that this is what Prongs and Lily were fighting for.

Write me a Minerva who goes to the Potters’ - and a Hagrid who absolutely insists on ‘helping her’ - and extracts what she can from the rubble and grim-facedly leaved the rest with the wizards who’ve come to begin the clearout and they bring Harry’s cot and blanket (miraculously, somehow, only just a little singed) to the Weasleys’ that very night. Write me a Sirius Black who holds a cup of tea (he never somehow found it in himself to tell Molly he really doesn’t care for tea) tight between his hands and begins to realise slowly (and it will be a slow, slow realisation, but eventually he will get there) that he’s not alone. Write me a Sirius who is exhausted and lost and angry and scared and sad and a room a little too full up of friends and family, and write me hope.

Write me a Harry who smiles a big grin full of exactly three teeth at Kreacher and a Sirius who swallows hard and resolves that this joyful little person won’t grow up in a house full of hate like he did. Write me a master and house-elf who gradually gradually learn to tolerate each other, over many years and with many a bitten-back word.

Write me a Remus who comes over most nights and spends periods living with his friend and their boy, who helps, with Kreacher a bit (he knows what it’s like to be ignored and marginalized and shunned and if Kreacher knew what Remus really was who knows what he’d say, but there’s something between them nonetheless), with Harry more (here, Padfoot, let me read to him - oh Moony thank Merlin I swear one more time through ‘Percy and his bloody purple wand’ and I’ll” - “ok, shh, give him here, come on Harry-my-lad…” ) and with Sirius a lot. Write me friends who help each other heal, and get used to Muggles confusing them for a couple with a son, and the varied reactions and bizarre questions that entails, and when Remus’ mother finally quietly passes away, he moves in for real. Write me a Remus who insists that he cannot take his friend’s charity, and even with all James’ money in trust for Harry and for Sirius as his guardian and all the Black family fortune going to waste will not be convinced until Sirius reaches out and takes his friend’s hand in both of his and says Remus I need you here - and Remus scoffed because Sirius was always such a drama queen and it’s been long enough now that they can joke about this - but at the same time, it’s not quite a joke, and Remus doesn’t suggest leaving after that.

Write me every Sunday lunch at the Weasleys and Harry round to be babysat whenever Sirius has something to take care of or needs time to himself, and Molly trying to teach Sirius how to change a nappy and realising it’s completely unnecessary because who really thinks Lily Potter would have had Sirius hanging about in her house twice a week hyping up her boy and not making himself useful in the slightest, of course he’d have learnt how to change a nappy.

Write me a Minerva who comes by frequently and has Harry to tea at Hogwarts every so often when he gets a bit older, for James and Lily’s sake and to check that young Black isn’t raising too much of a ragamuffin - and for the most part, she and Molly and Remus between them manage a healthy level of manners in a fairly ordinary 6,8,11-year-old boy.

Write me a Harry and Ron who grow up together, an extra slim (but never skinny) dark-haired, pale (but never unhealthily so) brother to an unruly pack of seven, an overgrown garden to race toy brooms in, gnomes to be bitten by and a mother to scold all her children indiscriminately.

Write me a Sirius who comes to collect his godson in time to stay for tea and Molly who says “look there now Sirius!” and Sirius looks out and sees his boy - easy to spot out of among the five gingers fighting over a broom - break away from the group and jump and swing the old cleansweep under him before he hits the ground and zoom away around the treetops laughing “no hands Fred you gnome-end-sucker!” and Sirius feels something sharp clench in his heart because he looks so like James (and James is never ever going to do that stupid move ever again) so it’s grief, fresh as the first month, but also he is six, how can he already do that jump thing? so it’s also pride and, scariest of all he is six, that language - and he finds there are tears streaming down his cheeks and he can’t speak too well and Molly just sits him down and gives another of her interminable cups of tea (he doesn’t mind them so much now) and pats him on the shoulder, and he glances up and sees that there are tears in the corners of her eyes, too. But he drinks the tea and it passes and by the time the children come in complaining about something and clamouring for cake there’s no sign of anything amiss.

Write me a Harry who grows up with a godfather who makes mistakes, who cries and shakes some nights with flashbacks that overtake him, who never had good parents of his own and isn’t too sure what they look like exactly, but damned if he won’t do all that he can for his friend’s boy - and not even his friends’ boy, either, his boy, his Harry, because really, in the end, what is a godson but a son by another name, and what is blood but love? Write me a Harry who grew up with stories of his parents from anyone who would tell them, pictures around the house (Sirius wonders whether to black Peter out of them, but this house has had enough blacked-out faces, and that was the best part of his life, after all) and no real family, but plenty enough friends to be getting on with.

Write me parties at Christmas with the old Order and their children because if there’s one season Sirius will make an effort for its Christmas and Grimmuld Place is the best venue for things like this. Write me a house too big for just two lads, but more often than not it’s three, (eventually permanently three) and sometimes more, (Hagrid fills up a room himself, every so often in the holidays) and Sirius is never ever used to how much noise and life one 9-year-old boy can instill in the gloomiest of houses, and surely he never had this much energy? (On reflection, yes, he did, definitely, probably more).

Write me a Dumbledore who watches and waits and prays - very un-wizardly habit, that, but he always had his eccentricities - and hopes. He hopes he is right and he hopes against hope that it will never be necessary to test his theories and Voldemort will never return and he hopes that nothing will change. He hopes that he was right to make the choices he did. But when Harry arrives at Hogwarts at the age of 11, healthy and happy and loved, with someone to hug him goodbye at the station and a friend to sit with on the carriage already and a “yes!” fistpump when the hat shouts “GRYFFINDOR!” which - though he will never ever know it, who is to tell him? - is exactly the same gesture his father made when he received the same sorting twenty years ago - when he sits down with a little bit of overawed wonder in the green eyes, which is exactly how his mother looked, and waves to Hagrid, and turns to speak to the bushy-brown-haired girl next to him because she looks even more scared than he feels and Remus told him he should look for someone who looks like that and say hello, and starts to tell her what he plans to write home to his godfather about, and what will she write to her parents, he knows they’ll be so excited to hear about all of this I mean LOOK at it, look at Hogwarts, isn’t this GREAT? (and the very tense Muggle-born girl is relaxed enough to listen to someone else for the first time since Neville introduced himself on the train) - Dumbledore smiles. He won’t know how his choices pan out, and he won’t know what the future holds - but right now (and Minerva, watching the Sorting but with a smile to spare for her young Harry James, so grown up, agrees) it seems like the best that could have been.

You love him, but he loves her.

You stood from a distance, your heart skipping a beat when you saw him. You bit your lip, thinking about everything that could have been. Harry had been your closest friend since you met when you both were just five years old. The two of you grew up together, shared baths and had sleepovers. He was your best mate, from start to finish. His fame never pulled him away, never for too long at least, and he had always been there for you no matter what. When his career with the boys had really taken off, Harry did all he could to keep you close. You’d been introduced to his band mates early on, forming life long bonds with them as well. You could think back to the first time you had really opened up to them, when Louis had caught a look in your eye when Harry had mentioned another girl. Harry of course was oblivious, and probably always would be. “What’s up your butt?” Louis asked, as Harry had exited the bus to make a phone call. Your face turned a lovely shade of red, as all eyes were on you. “Nothing?” You question, worried Harry would return any second. Louis pressed further of course, and with the boy’s curiosity growing, you mumble a quick, “I think I like him, I don’t know.” and they all go silent for a moment. “You should tell him.” Louis urged, but you never did. Now, almost five years later, you were dolled up for Harry’s birthday party, your heart racing just at the sight of him.

“You alright?” Louis appeared next to you, his hands shoved into his pockets as if he knew just how you were feeling. “Mhm.” You shoot him a small half smile and let your eyes float back to Harry. Louis and you had become tremendously close over the years. You told him everything, you opened up to him completely. For the past five years, Louis was your shoulder to cry on, and the only person to encourage you to tell Harry the truth. You and Louis found the table were the rest of the boys sat, a drink in each of their hands. “Here ya go, love.” Niall hands you a full glass of champagne. You take a seat next to him, and open your mouth to ask the lads how they all are, but something stops you. Cheering was heard and an applause followed, and slowly you turn to see what all the commotion was for. You watched as Harry stood back a distance from the leggy blonde, who was proudly showing off a large diamond ring. Your heart drops…

“Y/N?” Niall asks, his innocent voice so full of concern. His words fall on deaf ears as your senses begin to fade. You can’t hear anyone, all you can focus on is the sight in front of you. The boys stare at you, eyes wide. “I-I’ve got to go.” Your voice is barley audible, but they shout for you as you stand up from the table and head for the front of Harry’s place. Tears burned your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to cause a scene. You had waited too long, your chance was over. Harry was happy, and who were you to ruin that for him. “Hey, where you goin’?” His voice calls out for you, as you try to sneak past him. Harry steps away from his fiance, who is still showing off her new ring. You grip the handle of his front door, tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t face him. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Why are you leaving?” Hurt was evident in his voice, it broke your heart. You smile, and face him, his brows furrowing in concern when he meets your eyes.

“Congratulations, H.”

This is part one of a three part series. Lemme know what you think. 

-El