harry potter drabble

For the Night

Pairing: Marcus Flint x Dean Thomas
Word Count: 2,003
My first ever drabble for this fandom, but I had a ton of fun writing it! Hope ya’ll enjoy the angsty athlete and the charming art boy.


Marcus didn’t understand parties. He’d been to a chosen few in his life, mostly just bonfires or rallies before football games, which were moderately annoying but bearable. But this, this was bordering on repugnant. On Pansy’s insistence, he’d agreed to come, but standing in the middle of a pot-smoke-filled room, surrounded by kids with flowers tucked into their braids and chalk pastel drawings on their laps was making him wish he’d stayed in bed.

More than anything he wished he was at practice. Marcus’ attitude had gotten him in more than his fair share of trouble, but not even being able to participate in football practice due to his latest outburst was a new low. He didn’t even know you could be suspended from practices, but here he was, benched for an entire week.

His dark mood on the subject had resulted in not even showing up to watch and comment on plays, which probably hadn’t helped with the situation at all. Either way, it was too late to go back now that he was half way across town.

He looked around for anyone he cared to associate with, Pansy or Astoria or even Theo, but all he could see were vaguely familiar faces he was too bored to put names to. He wanted a drink, but everything here was fruity in the way that guaranteed a hangover, and Marcus was too pristine for anything less than an IPA or a few good shots of whiskey.

Barely restraining a groan of frustration, Marcus made his way toward the back door. He’d been to Daphne and Astoria’s house once before, and he knew they had a decent deck he could hide out on until Pansy was ready for a ride home. Briefly, he debated leaving her, but she was one of the few people who tolerated his dark moods, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with her vengeful side.

Keep reading

hermione still flinches when ron’s hands brush her neck and she doesn’t understand why she does, because the cold, metal sting and everything that happened later, is painfully different from his soft palms. she stops wearing perfume, and starts casting protection charms.

remus despises his nature so much that the scars on his body are from his own hands. he knows what the taste of wolfsbane is when it doesn’t quite work; bitter and unmistakably sweet—it’s sirius’s blood when he goes too far.

ginny’s hands shake uncontrollably when she writes for hours at a time. the words will start to swim across the page and mix and scramble into anagrams. hi, i’m tom. what’s your name? hi, i’m tom. what’s your name? hi, i’m tom. what’s your na—

pansy knows what it’s like to cast unforgivables on first years. she learns how to enunciate the words with refined perfection, and learns how to want to hurt them. she throws up in the abandoned washroom after every lesson, and finds comfort in the absent arms of moaning myrtle.

ron faints everytime he apparates. he’ll wake up in hermione’s lap; his hair wet against his forehead, and his arms heavy with sweat. he always reaches for his shoulder and visibly relaxes when blood doesn’t rub off his fingers. he doesn’t know how to control his anger either, and feels the shame creep into his skin whenever hermione looks at his chest. he knows that she’s looking for the locket because he wishes that was what he could lay his blame on.

tom falls in love at the age of twelve—watched glimmering jewels glide down his own hand and pool at the bland tiles in the orphanage; started fires just to keep things lively. he collects followers like sheep in a mindless herd and finds that the acclaimed intricacies of a human brain is much more dull than he had imagined. he holds fear like a baby would with a blanket and spends nights wishing he had more time. he dies knowing he never had enough.

draco knows what it’s like to have your mind violated and out bare for all the world to see. he remembers severus saying that veritaserum has no taste, and discovers that he was wrong. the so called non dimensional potion is much too similar to the taste of the silent pleas he shouted when he watched snatchers salivate at the sight of his mother, or the copper droplets of red that sprinkled the surface of his cracked lips when he watched children slaughtered in the blink of an eye.

sirius has spent his entire childhood without the warmth of a mother’s embrace or the reassuring words of a father. he tells himself he’s okay with it—that he would rather have no family than one that wished his friends dead. he doesn’t know what to think when he has neither family or friends alive—the only embrace he will ever feel again is the one that lurks behind bars in his azkaban cell.

luna stops searching for wrackspurts, and instead, starts organizing her fathers office. she should be relieved when people stop calling her loony lovegood but all she feels is the absence of her imagination. war, it seemed, was not an adventure, but an old friend that came at inconvenient times in history.

harry doesn’t want to start a family because every father he has ever had has been hurt at his own expense. ginny rocks his body against her chest and brushes the tears away from his eyes as soon as they fall. she tells him that he’ll learn how to be a father—that it will come as naturally as magic had. the sharp pain that lodges inside of him whenever albus retreats back into his room is reflected so blatantly on ginny’s face. he wishes that he were a blind man so that he never had to see his mistakes out in the open, and rubs at his fading scar.

despite the years that had passed, it seemed that all was not well.

When I'm Older
  • Some time, 2nd year:
  • McGonagall: You shall write on a piece of parchment what you wish to be when you're older.
  • Hermione: Does being a muggle doctor count?
  • McGonagall: Whatever you desire, Ms. Granger. Scribble it down.
  • Draco: *shoots his hand up the air enthisiastically* Can I be Potter's husband?
  • McGonagall:
  • Harry: My wot?
  • Draco:
  • Draco: Your husband. Merlin, Potter, no need to hint how much you want to hear me say it again.
Drabble

Draco sighed contently, leaning back into the warm body behind him. Strong arms came around him and he rested the back of his neck on a strong broad shoulder. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so happy, so safe.

He reached his arm up and slid it through the back of Harry’s hair, scratching his nails lightly against his scalp like he knew Harry loved.

“Mnn” The sound rumbled out of Harry, he had been dozing, both of them lying on the black settee in their shared apartment. The arms tightened around his middle and Harry nuzzled into his neck, making a content noise and Draco smiled.

“Go back to sleep you” He said softly knowing Harry was tired after the day they had both had. He was, but he had never truly been able to fall straight asleep like Harry had, it normally took him a minimum of an hour until his body and brain finally gave him rest.

They shouldn’t be sleeping on the settee, normally Draco would have bollocked Harry for doing it, but this time he had stopped himself. Harry had looked so tired and worn out, mouth slightly open and breathing deeply that Draco could not have brought himself to wake him.

Instead he had joined him, lying out in front of him and wrapping himself in Harry’s always overheated warmth that seemed to radiate out of him. He knew that Harry slept best holding or cuddling something. He had found that out one night, when he had turned over to find one of Harry’s arms wrapped around one of their spare cushions, looking so adorable Draco hadn’t been able to look away until Harry had shifted and faced away from him. After that, it was wrapping himself in blankets and then Draco had finally been open to letting him cuddle him. It had been the beginning of their relationship and looking back at it Draco berated himself for not doing it sooner. Having a very warm very cuddly Harry Potter in one’s bed was truly an amazing thing.

But he knew why he had done it, the insecurity about their relationship had constantly bleed into his mind back then. He was scared of letting Harry too far in, getting too comfortable. Back then he had always thought that it wouldn’t have lasted, the things between them that had started after Harry had re-emerged into society after being away for years, finally taking the job of head auror like everyone expected him to.

Draco had been scared then, that the thing they had started was only a passing fancy for the Chosen One, and that he would leave Draco for the next attractive thing that caught his attention. That was obviously a complete and utter mis-characterisation of Harry, Draco knew that now. But he had always had a very strong sense of self-preservation that had lead him to be very cut off back then. It wasn’t as bad now, after having years of Harry trying to get him out of it.

So here Draco Malfoy was, cuddling up to a very sleepy and sexy Harry Potter on their settee in their shared apartment that they had lived in for years.

And Draco wouldn’t change a thing.

Your secret is safe with me

“Blaise,” Draco fumed, storming into the living room, “what happened to the chest of drawers in my room?”

Blaise looked up from the paper he was reading and grinned at Draco.

“Do you like the new one? You’ve been whining about it so much, I thought I’d just replace that awful old-timer.”

“What did you do with that old-timer?”

“I sold it,” Blaise shrugged.

“You sold it,” Draco repeated flatly.

“Yes.”

“Who did you sell it to?” Draco asked frantically.

“No idea,” Blaise said. “I didn’t get a name. Two people came by to pick it up. I think they were Muggles.”

Draco felt like he was about to faint.

“Did you take everything out beforehand?”

Blaise snorted.

“Of course! What do you take me for?”

“Everything?” Draco insisted.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at Draco’s tone and studied him.

“Yes, everything.”

Draco took a step closer and narrowed his eyes.

“Even what was under the secret false bottom in the second drawer, nobody but me knows about?”

Blaise paled and his mouth opened.

“Oh,” he simply said.

“Yes, oh,” Draco growled. “Great, now I have to hunt it down. You’re a lousy flatmate.”

“Hey, I just wanted to do you a favour,” Blaise said defensively.

“You better hope they haven’t found what’s inside it, or I’m going to kill you.”

Doing the locator spell was easy enough. Draco had feared it wouldn’t work, but it seemed there were no wards guarding the flat the chest of drawers had ended up in. Draco apparated to the flat, his heart hammering as he knocked.

When the door opened, Draco was sure he had to be dreaming. Of all the people in the world. Of course. Of course.

“Malfoy?” Potter seemed stunned. He was holding a toothbrush and was only dressed in a green t-shirt and pants. “How did you find me?”

Draco shook his head, willing his mind to work properly again.

“You have something of mine,” he said curtly.

“And what might that be?” Potter responded, a grin beginning to form on his lips. It took Draco off guard for a moment.

“Can I just come in and check something?”

Potter stepped aside and gestured for Draco to come in. Draco wasted no time and quickly found the chest of drawers in the corner of Potter’s bedroom. He opened the second drawer and took out the little book he had been so desperate to get back.

“What’s that?” Potter asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Nothing of your concern. It shouldn’t have been in there,” Draco huffed.

“Hmmm,” Potter hummed. “You know, I never would have thought you kept a diary.”

Draco blushed, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.

“It’s not a diary,” he said lamely.

Potter nodded, but he had a mischievous smile on his face.

“You want a drink?” he asked, turning around and heading back into the living room. Draco blinked and tried to find his voice again.

“Um, no thank you. You were obviously getting ready for bed. I won’t disturb you any longer,” he said hastily.

“You sure? It might be a great opportunity,” Potter grinned. Draco gave him a quizzical look.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Potter shrugged, “after two Firewhiskeys you might get the chance to run your hands through my incredibly infuriating, magnificent head of hair.” Potter tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t suppress a snicker. “I might even let you touch my strong and marvellous jawline.”

Never had Draco wished more the ground would open and swallow him up.

“You read it,” he said through gritted teeth. “You had no right.”

“True,” Potter replied, nonchalant. “I’d let you read mine in return, but I don’t keep a diary.” He stepped closer to Draco, studying his face intently.

“You look rather cute when you’re flushed.”

Draco made a sound that was something between a weird gurgle and a high-pitched squeak. Whatever it was, it was highly embarrassing.

Potter chuckled, coming to a halt right in front of Draco.

“I mean, I could just show you what kind of fantasies I’d be writing in that diary,” he said in a low whisper.

Draco gulped, not quite grasping what Potter was saying.

“Like what?” he breathed.

“Hmmm.” Potter’s eyes flickered down to Draco’s lips. “Like how I want to grab you right now and kiss you until you can’t breathe.”

Draco’s mouth opened involuntarily. Breathing was already hard with Potter standing so close to him.

“And then,” Potter continued, deliberately breathing on Draco’s lips, “I’d want your hands on the most delicious and perfect arse you have ever seen in your life.”

Draco groaned loudly. This was just too much. But then again, Potter really seemed to be teasing him in a rather flirtatious way. Trying to conceal his nervousness, he raised his chin and fixed Potter with a glare.

“These better not just be empty promises,” Draco said haughtily.

“Oh, they’re not,” Potter smirked, his eyes gleaming as he started pouring their drinks.

Sirius takes Muggle Studies starting in third year to annoy his family. At first he plans on only taking it the one year before switching, but it grips his attention and won’t let go. Learning about muggle medical science, electricity, airplanes, the space race… every new topic felt like a new discovery.

It’s at the end of fifth year that the professor offers an extra credit project. Find something muggle that interests you and document your findings. Sirius feels stuck until halfway through summer holiday when he spots the bare bones of a motorcycle about to be hauled off.

At first his focus is figuring out what kind of bike it is (a 1946 Triumph 3T) and how to identify parts, but it quickly turns into a full restoration. The summer was spent mostly with James as they searched junkyards for missing parts, several times one repair leading to something else breaking and Sirius swearing up a storm. By the time school starts again he has 3.5 feet of parchment written front and back.

Two weeks before seventh year starts Sirius finally has it fully restored, crowing with joy as he rides down long stretches of empty road, already planning on what charms he could add to make it run better or make parts last longer.

It’s when Gryffindor wins the quidditch cup that year that sirius begins wondering what it would take to make the thing fly.

"Proper Fancied"

Request: Can i request a remus x reader where its after a full moon and she’s helping him to his dorm with the marauders but her dorm is first so shes about to go in but they all hear the other girls making fun of her (kind of like look at me I’m sandra dee) and they let it slip that she has a crush on remus? Thanks I love your log btw ❤️

Pairing: Young Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Crude language, sort of angst? Manly loving, lots of worrying, not much fluff ngl and a bit of a sadistic reader (you’ll see)

Word Count: 2399

I tried to make it cute but I did do this on separate days so it sort of turned? I honestly had no idea what happened since I tried to make it very light-hearted and Marauder-y! But please do enjoy this whirlpool of a shitstorm~ Don’t be afraid to give me your opinions either xx.


It’s the worst one you’d seen yet.

James had rushed into your dormitory not long back – they always seemed to somehow get past the magical slide - and had promptly dragged you out of the room without any explanation despite your frantic complaints of his sudden actions.

You were just about to clamber into your bed, the rest of the gals were Merlin knows where (they never really invited you with them that much, but you didn’t particularly care, you had four brilliant friends that meant the world to you), meaning you were still in some oversized shirt that probably belonged to Peter or one of the boys and some ridiculous looking pumpkin patterned shorts. Not the greatest of looks you had to admit.

“-James! What-what’s going on?” you hastily questioned as you nearly tripped over a step, his long legs striding further than yours could ever reach. His hair was in an horrendously disheveled state that you’d never seen since he had attempted to comb his curls back in your 3rd year. “Moony, he-” James choked out and your heart leaped as you realized that-

Oh my Merlin, he’s crying? What’s happen to Remus?

With the resolve of the determined Gryffindor you were, you halted, grasping a moving James by his broad-woahwhendidhegetthisbroad- shoulders and gently shook him. “James, calm down love. Breathe, tell me what’s happened before you drag me to my death?” You gave him a comforting smile, still keeping the wit in your voice, the last thing you want is an even more panicked James. He never worked well when he was crying; it always ended up with blurred vision, tripping, walking into walls and intensive hiccupping that resembled the squeak of polishing trophies that Filch made us do every week.

James shoved his glasses up on his head and wiped his face dry, “Its Moony- he,” sniffle “-it’s the worst its ever been, he’s proper banged up, we’ve messed up,” he looked up, his guilty eyes puffy and red, “Y/N, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

You completely forgot, it was the full moon that night. The boys never let you join in their animagi antics and to be frank you didn’t want to see someone you admired so much in unbearable pain. You knew Remus didn’t like you seeing him when his furry problem came about, he didn’t want you to worry nor see him in such a weakened state. Your feelings towards the sandy haired boy didn’t even waver when he first admitted it you, it even grew; you just felt so flattered and grateful that Remus trusted you enough to tell you.

If only I could do the same for him, feelings are ridiculous, I have decided.

You both hastily arrived at the hospital wing in record time and you had promptly burst into a sobbing puddle as you saw your Remus-abravestrongwonderfulboy- just laid there limp and so fragilebrokenscarred. Remus’s head rested on the pillow, a horrendous jagged scar slashed over his nose, barely skimming across his skin, the mark an enflamed red.

You collapsed onto the stools next to Peter, holding onto the shaking boy for dear life, his arms pulling you into the comforting embrace you certainly needed. Bless this boy, he definitely knew how to make you feel better.

And that’s where you stayed the whole night, hunched over a stool, one hand holding Sirius’s and the other tenderly grasping Remus’s. You all had to leave early morning however to escape the wrath of Madame Pomfrey if she ever found out we snuck in to see her most fragile patient. The four of you, minus Remus who still hadn’t woken up, dragged yourselves up to the Gryffindor Common room still half asleep with James mumbling something about hippogriffs taking McGonagall hostage and a giggling comment at your pumpkin shorts.  You had successfully snuck back into your dorm, the boys making sure to walk you there like they always did, then proceeded to shuffle to their own shared room. Slipping into your bed was no problem, your roommates were deep asleep and hopefully too smashed from last night to notice you weren’t in your bed.

You all did the exact same that night too, tiptoeing down to the hospital wing in the middle of the cold September air just to huddle by Remus’s side. You never pressed the boys to what had happened, you were curious but you didn’t want to know what danger they accidently placed themselves in.

Staring down at Remus’s face, the wound no longer looked sore or reddened but it looked much more calmed yet tender. This was definitely going to leave a particularly nasty scar. You were slumped on Remus’s right side, your head nestled in the crook of your arm, the hand mindlessly stroking Remus’s hair whilst the other drawing circles on the sheet. You couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard you tried, instead your absent mind whirled with thought preoccupied with the boy laid unconscious before you. The Madame said he had awoken earlier but his body needed the sleep so he kept drifting off asleep every so often.

The boys were all deep within their dreams, their slight snoring somehow calming you slightly. Your eyes heavily shut, stained from them being open for so long when clearing of a throat snapped you awake. Glancing down, your eyes met the tired, but familiar hazel azure that was Remus’s.

“Hi.” You softly greeted, trying hard not to choke up and cry in front of the boy. Remus gave you a tired smile despite how painful it must be to move his face, Hi Y/N.” His voice held a sore rasp to it but it sounded wonderful saying your name.

“How you feeling Moony?” You whispered, your voice shaking and you were well aware that the hand that was stroking his hair was now trembling ever so slightly. “Just a bit peachy.” Remus let out a little chuckle and you couldn’t help but snort amusement, “You look like you dueled Grindelwald and you’re ‘just peachy’, you absolute numpty.” you shook your head lightly in mock exasperation as Remus shook his light-heartedly.

“Well I you must know, I definitely feel better with you here.” Your hand faltered their strokes in his sandy locks and Remus suddenly cleared his throat, “-you all here, I mean. I appreciate it.” He quickly clarified as he glanced at the other boys slumped around him, his eyes filled with fondness and love that nothing in the world could ever compare.

You didn’t know what words to say to him after that so you left it, leaving the room in a comfortable silence with only the soft breaths and snores of the boys to fill the room. Ever so gently, they lulled your mind to peace and your eyelids shut with you fast asleep.


The next morning consisted of waking up to Peter crying over Remus, Sirius launching into an apologetic speech and James prodding your cheek rather uncomfortably, simply finding childish enjoyment of watching them squish together as drool unattractively dripped out of your mouth. You weren’t very happy to say the least.

When the lads all had their little sob sesh with a very overwhelmed Remus, it was our job to help support him up to the dorm room before the students filtered down for breakfast. All the way in Gryffindor Tower. The opposite side of the castle.

What followed was a lot of cursing; “merlin’sleftballsac-

A lot of fake reassurance; “I got this! I got this, yep I defi-igotthis-!”

A lot of complaints; “Why do you weigh so much! You’ve been snacking on the pork pies again haven’t you Remus.”

“Y/N why are you just standing there and not helping?”

“…I’m the visual motivation that keeps you going..?”

Slowly, but surely, you managed to support him through the portrait hole and up the dormitory stairs. However the boys were determined to see you to your dorm first as James calls it “A tradition for our lovely Y/N to show that we Marauders can too, be gentlemen!”

You all heaved yourselves up the girl’s stairs and made a few confusing twists and turns to your specific dorm room, Peter unlinking his arm from yours and dramatically bowing down to you as you let out a snort of delight. You thanked the boys generously and hastily, and you opened your door but paused when your name was called. Turning around you were met with the boys looking almost insulted. You raised a confused eyebrow, “What?”.

 “Didn’t think you’d actually go without a marauder hug!” James wiggled his eyebrows and a wide smile split open on your face, their hugs always were the cure to your low moods. You dived into his open arms as he rocked from side to side, his curled hair stuffing itself into your face. Peter was already hugging you dearly by the time James let go and you couldn’t help but laugh when Sirius lifted you away from him in his loving arms.

“Merlin Y/N! You’ve been snacking on them pork pies as well haven’t you!” Sirius joked as he put you down and you grumpily hit his arm, ignoring his string of apologies. He knew you loved him really. You turned to the last hug.

Remus stood by himself, no longer supported by the Quidditch fanatics, his arms wide and a knowing smile on his face. His hands motioned you to come close and you gently slid into his hug, careful not to hurt any of his wounds. The hug was warm and secure and you knew that your feeling for Remus were no longer a silly crush that you had dubbed in your mind. You’d never think of Sirius or Peter or James in the same way you viewed Remus, you felt selfish and guilty though, hiding your feeling in the form of being “just best mates”.

Suddenly, you heard a very mocking laugh which broke you and Remus from your hug. You turned to the sound to realize it was only your roommates and it came from the slightly ajar door you left open. You gave the boys an apologetic look, but before you could actually apologies, another voice you recognized as Denise echoed throughout the hallway.

“Y/N’s probably fucking one of them now and I’ll bet you two galleons that it’s Black.” Her claim was followed by a fit of giggling and followed by stunned silence from us. None of us made a sound, too shocked by what just had occurred.

“Nonononono! I saw her rushing out with Potter the other night and she hasn’t even slept here for the past couple days. My money’s on Potter.” The high scratchy pitch that had replied was Tracey, the sound of rustling and rummaging could be heard followed by a triumphant “Aha!”. The girls let out “oooohs” and snickers as you heard Mellissa mockingly clear her throat.

“Ladiiesss and gentlemen! May I present the atrocious wardrobe that is Y/N L/N.” She sang and your throat closed up, you knew you never had the best of clothing choices and you couldn’t believe they were rummaging through your stuff!

“Look at me~ I galivant like I’m a marauder, and I act as if I’m the next best thing since water~” She crooned, giggling as she presumably ridiculed me across the room. Denise let out a loud laugh, wheezing so bad she resembled a dying whale, she interrupted Mellissa’s singing with a wave of her hands.

“That’s Remus’s shirt and all! She’s definitely screwing Lupin, only someone like him would pity her.” She cackled and you felt fury blaze in your blood but before you could storm in there to show her a piece of your mind, Tracey’s words impacted you the most.

“Well she did say she proper fancied Remus.”

Embarrassment, humiliation and most of all, shame shot through your body as tears brimmed your eyes. You could see Peter look uncertainly between the door, Remus and you but you didn’t want to see the sandy haired boy’s reaction. You didn’t want to see his disgusted expression. You strutted forwards, your thoughts whirling with numerous plans of revenge.

“Excuse me gentlemen, I have three cunts to dispose of.” Rage ignited within you and you ignored Sirius’s warning before you stormed into the room, magically locking the door behind you. A string of furious hexes left your mouth and chaos ensued the room a few seconds later.


It was rather satisfying, letting your feelings out.

You sat on your bed rather giddily, surrounded by some of your favorite treats from the numerous times you snuck out to Hogsmeade, a couple fashion magazines and a nice warm mug of Butterbeer you got one of the house elves to fetch you.

You were in the middle of reading why Jobberknoll feathers wouldn’t complement your skin tone when you heard an owl pecking at your window. You gave the bird an exasperated look from across the room but shifted all your stuff to the side before making your way to the window located on the opposite side of the room.

You passed Denise who was intensely looking at you in fear, her usually golden hair half singed off, now a horrid neon yellow and a feather magically tickling her feet, however she was helpless; Frozen by the full body-bind curse you had sent her way, leaving her needing to squirm and laugh, yet unable to do so.

You let out a delighted hum as you stepped over a ‘‘Petrificus Totalus’’ed Tracey who was sporting a rather unattractive green hue with purple boils, and made your way over to the window. Unlatching it you saw that the owl had a note attached to its leg, you gave the cute thing a little treat and you had noticed its eye was looking confusingly behind you. You turned around and snorted, understanding its immense confusion.

“Don’t worry love, you’re not seeing things, she’s human.” You reassured the brown beauty, referring to Mellissa who strung up- upside down and was covered in feathers from head to toe and had antlers sprouting out of her forehead- she too placed in a full body-binding spell. You shut the window and trotted back to your bed, sliding under the warm covers and unfolded the dainty note.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I ‘proper fancied’ you too. xx”

Hello - Newt x Reader

Prompt: A little drabble! Soulmate AU where everyone is born with the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrist. Reader is completely fed up with her quest to find her soulmate, as the only hint she has is the incredibly vague black letters that have always been stamped across her wrist.

Warnings: Swearing, bullying, use of alcohol, harassment and unwanted advances

God, you hated your soulmate tattoo.

What sort of a soulmate tattoo was “hello”? You had detested it your entire life. What vague-ass higher power had decided when they gave you your tattoo to stop at “hello”? How would you know for sure when you met your soulmate? Couldn’t they have elaborated a little bit? Just a few more words? A proper sentence that you could actually recognize your soulmate with? But no, you were stuck with the most common greeting in the English language tattooed permanently into your skin. Hello. What absolute bullshit.

Every time someone greeted you with that simple phrase, your eyes would narrow, you would square your shoulders, and you would spit back the most distinct and unmistakable response you possibly could. You were not going to be the soulmate couple that had “hello” on both of your wrists. Your lucky, lucky soulmate probably had something ridiculous, like “Whatever you say,” or “Did you know that a hippopotamus’s sweat is red?” because you absolutely had to stand out, and you made sure that your replies to “hello” always did. There was no other way to be sure that anyone and everyone who said “hello” to you wasn’t your soulmate.

What a useless tattoo.

All throughout your school years at Ilvermorny, you were completely embarrassed to show people your tattoo. Unfortunately, when your classmates found out, they had great fun sending people you had never spoken to before up to say “hello” to you.

Your reaction was always hilarious, so they kept doing it. Your responses ranged from “Go fuck yourself,” to “Nice try guys, but I’ve already spoken with her before,” to straight up punching one student right in the jaw when he got a little too friendly with his hands as he delivered his “hello”.

You started to feel a little bad for your actual soulmate as your replies increased in hostility. They probably had a particularly colorful quote of yours. “Go to hell,” perhaps, or maybe “Who the fuck put you up to it this time?”

When you graduated, your defensive nature had thankfully melted a little. You had switched to solely offering people fun animal facts whenever they said “hello” to you, and it was far less stressful. “Seahorse mates hold each other’s tails so they don’t lose each other,” was a favorite of yours, as was “Cows have best friends.”

One evening, you were at a bar with your roommates Queenie and Tina, and you were in no mood for advances from anyone. You had decided to date, as many people with soulmates do, just to pass time while you waited for your soulmate to arrive, but your recent significant other had found their soulmate and left you in the dust. It was incredibly depressing, and you just really wanted a drink.

A man waltzed up to you, sliding into the chair beside you and offering a hand to shake. “Hello,” he said with a grin. You looked over at him, as annoyed as you were drunk, and reached out to flip his arm over and look at his wrist.

“Alright, let’s get this over with I’m not in the mood to think of a fun fact,” you grumbled, pulling back his sleeve to look at his wrist.

It wasn’t really with disappointment that you read the words “I’m so sorry I ran over your dog,” in black ink on his wrist, and you patted his hand drunkenly.

“Good luck with that one, buddy,” you slurred, getting to your feet and heading toward the door. He blinked after you, bewildered, and then returned to his drink.

Such was a usual encounter for you, and by the time Tina dragged a certain magizooligist into your home, you were sick and tired of your goddamn animal facts.

“Queenie, (y/n)!” Tina called out to you. You peeked your head around the corner where you were helping Queenie mend dresses, and you saw with a pang of confusion that Tina had brought two men along with her.

Queenie voiced your amazement, grinning and chirping “Teenie! You brought men home!”

You approached your friend, not bothering with the fact that you were clad in only a slip, and you blinked at her in disbelief. “Who are they?”

“This is a no-maj, and this is Mr. Scamander. He’s responsible for his injuries,” Tina said wearily, pointing her finger at the sweaty, overwhelmed man who offered you a disoriented half-smile before fixing his gaze back on Queenie, who giggled.

Mr. Scamander gave you a little wave. “Hello,” he said.

You let out a slow puff of air, your frustration resurfacing as your hand shot forward to grab his wrist. “Merlin’s Beard, just show me the goddamn tattoo,” you grumbled without thinking. You were in total shock when you slipped his sleeve back and found yourself face-to-face with your own words.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, and he looked just as startled. A hush fell over the room, and you felt your face grow hot. “Sorry about that,” you mumbled apologetically, unable to drop your gaze from his.

“That’s quite alright,” he said softly, his lips twitching upward in a small smile. “It’s quite the conversation piece,” he teased, and you found yourself chuckling.

“You had better be worth all the trouble my ridiculous tattoo has caused,” you teased back. The other three people in the room were watching the two of you, completely taken aback.

“I think for the most part people usually find me to be more trouble than I am worth,” he confessed, his eyes sparkling.

You dropped his hand at last, your face red and your heart pounding with embarrassment. “We’ll see about that,”

This is such a silly idea but I had to write it down so here u go

def not my best work but I hope u enjoy!! I literally didn’t even proofread this so it’s probs full of errors and bad transitions but pls enjoy this dumb little drabble!! (two fics in two days, who am I and what have I done with puk)

The Girl With The Books [Remus Lupin]

Title: The Girl With The Books
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Remus Lupin x reader, James Potter, Sirius Black, mentions of Lily Evans
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,407
Requested: By my good friend Clary (yes, she has the same first name as Clarissa Fairchild and I envy her every day)
Short Description: MARAUDER ERA! You have caught Remus’s eye, and the Marauders tease him when they notice Remus staring longingly after you: a girl who reads a lot. Later, Sirius and James walk over to you and tell you about Remus.

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Foolproof

Can we just take a moment to imagine what would have happened if Draco had believed the rumors and articles about Harry and Hermione dating in fourth year? Like, yes, he knows that most of Rita Skeeter’s articles are made up, he’s one of her sources after all, but what if this one is true? And no, of course he’s not jealous, how can he be jealous of Granger? But damn it, they’re together all the time and it makes him sick, thinking about what they’re doing while they’re walking around the lake day after day.

So Draco comes up with a plan. A foolproof plan. He snatches a few strands of hair from Hermione’s robes one day after class and makes sure she’s headed to the library. He gulps down the Polyjuice Potion he prepared and hurries to find Harry. He runs into Viktor Krum, who won’t leave him alone and Merlin, why is he holding Draco’s hand? Sweet Salazar, he just kissed Draco’s hand! He’s extremely flustered and confused when he finally finds Harry.

There’s a quick exchange of,
“Hermione, I thought you wanted to go to the library?”
“Oh, I changed my mind, let’s take a walk around the lake.”

Draco smirks to himself when he and Harry are finally alone. He gets a bit irritated when Harry still hasn’t taken his hand and keeps blabbering about the Triwizard Tournament. Seriously, when does the snogging start? They’ve already rounded the lake once and Potter is still talking. Draco knows he’s running out of time, so he stops walking, grabs Harry by his robes and starts kissing him furiously. Harry lets out a gasp and freezes as Draco attacks his mouth.

Why isn’t Potter kissing him back? He still looks like Granger! When Harry still doesn’t move a muscle, it suddenly dawns on Draco that - Oh! Maybe they really haven’t done that before! Maybe Granger isn’t his girlfriend after all. Shit, what if Draco just made Potter realise he fancies Granger? As it turns out, Draco needn’t worry about that, because when he pulls back, he can see his reflection in Harry’s glasses and oh no! His hair! It’s not bushy and brown, it’s well groomed and blond! Without another word he turns on his heels and runs back to the castle.

In the following weeks, he refuses to meet Harry’s eyes and tries to avoid him as much as possible. On the day of the second task, Draco feels even more foolish. So Granger has been dating Krum? And Weasley is the most important person to Potter?

The next day, Draco is on his way to breakfast, when somebody suddenly grabs his wrist and drags him into an empty classroom. Draco blushes when Harry closes the door behind him and looks at Draco intently. Oh Merlin, is he finally going to confront him?

“You stupid prat,” Potter suddenly exclaims. “What have you done to me? Seriously, because all I could think about in the last few weeks was that bloody kiss!”

Draco just stares at him, not sure he’s comprehending what Harry is saying.

“And last night I dreamed you were the one on the bottom of the lake, not Ron.”

Draco’s brain registers the words, but not the meaning.

“What?” is all he’s able to say.  

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Harry bursts out. He reaches out and takes Draco’s face in his hands. Draco has no time to react before Harry presses their bodies together and starts kissing Draco feverishly. After a few moments, Draco makes a high-pitched sound that he should probably be embarrassed about, but who cares? This is an even better outcome than he had hoped for!

Not that he doubted it would work for one second. His plan was foolproof after all!

Whenever Hagrid finally decides to retire as Care of Magical Creatures professor you can bet your last knut that Charlie Weasley flies back to England the following week excitedly waving his resume and recommendation letters from no less than two Scamanders and the Minister of Magic, Hermione Granger.

I have this headcanon that Draco would struggle with saying “I love you”

When he was young he never really said it, it wasn’t the “done thing” between pureblood families, especially not ones headed by Lucius, where it was all polite handshakes and the only way to show affection was through obedience and respect.

And then moving on to Slytherin house at Hogwarts, it wasn’t much different. Most of the students also having been raised similarly. Expressing ones emotions like that was a sign of weakness.

But then Harry Potter comes along, and by the time they’re in a relationship, Draco’s sure he’s already been in love for years. He wants to say it every time Harry smiles at him, and every time Harry does one of his irritating Harry-ish habits, and every time Harry whispers it to him like a promise. 

He knows Harry doesn’t mind him not saying it, that Harry understands how much he means to Draco, but it isn’t the point.

The first time he says it, it’s shaky and whispered and murmured against Harry’s lips as they kiss on a lazy Sunday morning in bed. It’s the smile Harry gives him, the smile like Draco is the best thing in existence, like he’s the only thing that matters, that makes Draco say it again.

The more he says it- when Harry’s laughing at the Prophet, when he’s making them coffee, when he’s moving above Draco in bed- the more he wants to shout it from the rooftops.

Because he’s in love with Harry Potter and he’s never been happier, and he’d say “I love you” a thousand times if just to see Harry smile as he whispers it back.

Everyone is always going on and on about how unobservant Harry is.

But I like to think it was a product of growing up neglected; learning to be noticed as little as possible, and spending basically his entire life in the wizarding world facing off against evil.  So its not entirely that at his core he was unobservant but that he had learned it, because he had learned growing up to take up as little space as possible, both emotionally and physically.

So to Harry it became second nature to not notice things because god he didn’t want anyone noticing anything about him.

Except after the war, when he returns for 8th year he starts to notice all kinds of things; the way Dean and Seamus sit oh so close and gosh did they always do that, the way Ron and Hermione both tense up when the other one isn’t in the room but relax as soon as they’re near each other, the way people seem hopeful and scared all at once, or even small things like the way the wind sounds blowing against the window when he can’t sleep.

And the more he notices, the more he finds that maybe he wouldn’t quite mind if someone else noticed him.

Which is exactly how he starts to notice Malfoy.  Because now that he has started noticing all kinds of things he recognizes what these things mean too…and he definitely recognizes the slump of Malfoy’s shoulders, or the way his head turns up whenever someone new enters a room, or the way he finds every corner to sit in as soon as entering a room, and especially the way he’s always alone.  Because Harry knows exactly what it looks like when you don’t want people to notice you. 

And the more Harry looks the more he can’t stop looking, and he wonders how he could have spent so many years obsessed with Malfoy but never actually noticing things about him; like the way he cradles his tea as if absorbing its warmth before drinking it, the way he licks his lips when he reads, the way his face looks flushed and healthy only when he sneaks back into the castle after a secret broom ride (except its not so secret because Harry is pretty much always watching him), or the way he reads muggle novels in the library when he thinks no one can see.

Until one day, when Harry has his head buried in a book studying, and someone sits down beside him and he doesn’t even need to look up to know who it is because he recognizes the sounds Malfoy makes when he pulls out a chair and the way he holds his breath when he’s nervous and especially the way he smells; like fresh air and too strong tea and ink - he smells like hope Harry thinks, holding his breath too as Malfoy slides down into the seat beside him.

“So…” Malfoy whispers.

”So,” Harry answers back, still staring at the book in front of him, almost afraid to look at Malfoy as if he might spook him.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” Malfoy finally says after several minutes of silence which should be awkward but instead just feel charged with anticipation.

“I’m always here on Saturdays,” Harry says, finally turning to look at Malfoy.  He wonders why he looks so nervous. 

“I know,” Malfoy huffs, finally making eye contact with Harry and the look in his eyes makes something deep and tight in Harry’s chest uncurl because oh…oh.  Maybe he hasn’t been the only one noticing things.

“Did you want-”

“Yes,” Malfoy blurts out.

“I didn’t even finish asking you.  What if I asked if you wanted to go jump in the lake naked and look for the giant squid,” Harry says, his face breaking out into a smile that seems to make Malfoy relax.

“Still would’ve said Yes,” Malfoy says, no hint of sarcasm.

“Oh.  Well aright then.”  And Harry does something which feels a bit brave and a bit stupid and reaches over to lay his hand on Malfoy’s knee.  Only instead of yelling at him or pushing him away Malfoy smiles, for what Harry thinks must be the first time that whole year, and lays his own hand over Harry’s.

“Alright,” Malfoy says, linking their fingers.

And Harry smiles again, because yeah things really are alright.

It was in...

It was in 1st year when Draco Malfoy finally got to meet his hero, Harry Potter. However he wasn’t ready to meet the realisation that Harry Potter didn’t want to meet him. He didn’t even want to be his friend, so it was from this day forth that if he couldn’t be his friend, he would be his enemy.

It was in 2nd year that Draco got to challenge Harry Potter in Quidditch and in a duel. But it was all to beat him right? Because Draco was better than Saint Potter. He wasn’t trying to impress him, was he?

It was in 3rd year that Draco heard the famous Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. A man who was his family and who intended to hurt Harry Potter. But he couldn’t do anything apart from let him find Harry. Anyway he wanted this, for once the famous Harry Potter couldn’t be helped. He most certainly wasn’t scared for Harry, he was scared for himself. Right?

It was in 4th year that for once when the name “Harry Potter” was called out Draco didn’t feel annoyed or angry, he felt anxious and this time he knew it. Even though Harry was his rival, Draco knew that he couldn’t lose him to a stupid tournament. So when Harry came back clutching the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory and screaming “He’s back,” Draco knew that he wasn’t lying. That Voldemort really was back and Harry has to fight him. He’s his only hope.

It was in 5th year that everyone believed Harry was lying, Draco of course didn’t but he had to pretend he did. He couldn’t let anyone know that he’d come to care for his rival. So of course he teamed up with Umbridge to help bring Harry down whilst all the while spending every second fearing when Voldemort will strike and take away Harry.

It was in 6th year that Draco realised he was in love. He was in love with the one person everyone around him had taught him to hate. But it was also in this year that Voldemort asked him to murder Dumbledore. From the start he knew he not only couldn’t do it but he wouldn’t do it. For once he wanted to be like Harry, he wanted to do the right thing. Even though he failed to complete the task Draco felt as though he had succeeded in doing the right thing.

It was in 7th year that everything fell apart. Everything Draco knew was crumbling around him, he didn’t know where Harry was and he was scared. For he was slowly starting to believe that Voldemort might win. The first thing that Draco felt when Harry Potter was thrust onto the Manor floor was relief. Even with a stinging hex Draco knew it was Harry, how couldn’t he? But Draco was still so scared for his entire future, he can’t have Voldemort win. So he said he couldn’t be sure if it was Harry because that’s what you do when you’re in love, you protect them no matter the consequences on yourself. Yet when Draco heard Voldemort utter the four words he never wanted to hear of “ Harry Potter is dead,” Draco felt as though his entire world was collapsing. But the thrill that surged through every vein of his when Harry jumped out of Hagrid’s hands was so intense that Draco’s whole body shuddered. Harry can win this Draco muttered to himself and the sense of unlawful joy that ripped through Draco when Harry did win was almost impossible.

It was in 8th year when everyone who fought in the war came back to retake their 7th year that Draco had the courage to express his feelings to a newly befriended Harry Potter. And thankfully, it was in 8th year that Draco felt at ease because for once he was doing okay. He had someone to love and the fact that they loved him back, well that was extraordinary.

Dating Fred Weasley Would Include

Requested by anon

Originally posted by silverspaceastronaut


  • Teasing each other all the time but adding “I love you” and a kiss to the end of each little tease.
  • Snape deliberately splitting the two of you up and placing you on opposite sides of the classroom. He made the mistake of partnering the two of you up once, and he’s never doing that again.
    - Fred coming over and leaning on your table and giving you a wink, “Blow things up here often?”
  • Snape keeping you after class because you were one of his best students until you started seeing Fred and he’s “disappointed”. Fred kisses you as soon as you leave the class, which gets a very disapproving cough from Snape.
  • Fred meeting you outside each and every class, often surprising you by grabbing you and pushing you against the wall to kiss you.
  • Eventually you tell him you’re worried about yours (and his) grades so Fred starts trying super hard to impress you. He even told you he couldn’t go on a date with you because he had to study. That earned an eyebrow raise from you so he gave in and the two of you had a study date.
  • Fred’s eyes lighting up whenever he makes you smile. ESPECIALLY if you do that look-down-blush-smile.
  • Fred blatantly kissing you in the middle of the corridor just to annoy people and to make sure everyone knows you’re his.
  • “God I love you, (Y/n).”
  • Molly loves you and thinks you’re the sweetest thing. She makes you a jumper with your initial on it and invites you over every holidays. She just loves you.
  • Ginny loves you as well because you’re like an older sister to her. She asks you to braid her hair. She sits in front of you and Fred sits behind you and it’s a little train (except Fred sort of just plays with your hair and kisses you occasionally.)
  • George is a little bit jealous. Even though you and him are really good friends, it’s hard having his twin brother find someone perfect for him while he’s alone.
  • Lots of tickle fights
  • Going to the Yule Ball with Fred. He doesn’t ask you at first because he just assumes you’ll go with him. You end up teasing him and saying he hasn’t asked you yet. He asks you and you say, “Hmmm. I don’t know I’ll have to think about it, weigh in my options.” Fred laughs and kisses you, “I’ll eagerly await your reply.”
  • Both of the twins are incredibly protective over you.
  • If you play Quidditch, you’re a Chaser. If you’re on their team, Fred and George fiercely protect you, but if you’re on the other team (maybe you’re a beater), it’s war. “Whoops sorry Honey didn’t see you there.” As a bludger goes sailing past your ear.
  • Joking and confusing people who don’t understand your relationship; Are you dating? Enemies? Friends?
  • Fred getting jealous at little things when he’s in a mood. You have to hold him back from getting in fights.
  • Fred asking you to marry him a week before Bill and Fleur’s wedding. The two of you try and keep it secret until after their wedding so as not to not steal their thunder but Molly finds out and is so happy for the two of you. (George already knows)
  • Dancing at their wedding until your feet ache and your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 
  • After a few drinks Fred lets it slip to Ron that the two of you are engaged. Ron loudly exclaims “What!?”.
  • Fred loses you in the crowd and drunkenly screams “Where is my wife?!” Then everyone knows.
  • You and Fred end up getting married and Fred is just so happy he can’t stop smiling and he is running around excitedly telling everyone he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you. 

MASTERLIST

Draco’s Soulmate

so I saw this au where there was a countdown on someone’s wrist to the moment they meet their soulmate and I’m a sucker for soulmate and muggle au’s so I decided to write one! I might do one in Harry’s POV if y’all want me to. Enjoy!

3 minutes and 34 seconds. The nerves were growing inside him. Draco had always strived to look his best, however this morning nothing seemed right. Even though his hair was perfectly styled and he tried to look casual but not too casual (even though the man almost always wore a suit). Today he wore a white button up under a black blazer and black skinny jeans. Draco didn’t think it was possible for someone to feel overdressed and underdressed at the same time, but that’s what he was feeling.

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The Boy who Slept

Harry was, surprisingly, a heavy sleeper. Maybe it was because he finally felt safe; finally felt like he didn’t have to bolt out the door every time there was a noise, or a bump.

Though, it wasn’t always so easy for Harry to sleep. Sleep made him vulnerable. Sleep made it easy for someone to attack . Draco would set up wards, and charms before bed every night. He would hold Harry till his heart beat slowed, and his breathing evened out. Draco would wait, watching Harry’s fist uncurl, and his body stop twitching.

But that was a long time ago. Now, Harry is asleep before his head touches the pillow. Yet, somehow, he always manages to wrap himself around Draco, as if he was is anchor, his protection, his lifeline.

And Draco would hold him back just as tightly, because Harry was, after all, his whole world.