the thing's aunt petunia

emhahee-deactivated20170506  asked:

drarry hc: Weird habits Or dancers AU Or the one where Harry loves watching Draco do the dishes Or or or Ahhhans

Draco didn’t need to turn around to know that he was being watched. The only thing he just couldn’t figure out was why.

At first Draco was sure he was imagining things, but in the weeks since they’d first moved into a flat together his suspicions had been wholly confirmed.

Harry liked to watch him do the dishes.

Draco couldn’t understand why Harry was constantly staring at him when he did them. At first he’d been defensive, snapping at him that first night that he could certainly do some things without magic and how Harry didn’t need to stare. Only instead of getting angry Harry had looked embaressed before mumbling something unintelligible and leaving the room.

A few days later he’d caught him staring and tried to make a joke of it, “Got a kink that involves yellow dish gloves and a sink of dirty dishes, Potter?”

Harry had just blinked a few times, before closing his eyes and disapperating with a loud pop so sudden Draco had dropped his favorite teacup.

Which is why, despite the fact that he can feel Harry’s eyes on him once again as he cleans up the remnants of the steak and kidney pie they’d had he doesn’t make any funny jokes or snide remarks. Instead he stays silent despite the curiosity burning a hole in his brain.

It’s a few weeks before the subject is broached again.

Draco is puttering around the kitchen, placing the dishes from tea in the sink when Harry comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing him in a firm hug. There’s something shaky in his voice when he whispers “Do you want to know why I like watching you do the dishes?”

Draco is almost too nervous to speak, so he nods instead. He’s almost afraid Harry hasn’t noticed his nod though because he doesn’t speak at first, but then Draco quite suddenly he feels Harry press the side of his face against Draco’s shoulder inhaling deeply before he starts to speak.

“I never thought I’d have this…someone to share things with like this. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were always so angry. She used to slam the dishes into the sink like she resented having to cook or clean for us, or she made me do them. I used to think that was just what family was like. Then I met the Weasley’s and I remember the first time I saw Mrs. Weasley doing dishes without magic…she told me she didn’t mind because it meant she had a family to take care of. You….you look like that when you do them; as if it’s not a chore. It makes me feel,” and at this Draco can feel Harry’s hands begin to shake. “It sounds stupid I know but….seeing you so happy even doing our dishes makes me think you’re happy with me. That we’re gonna make it. That…you won’t ever leave.”

Draco swallows, feeling like his entire world is spinning because they don’t do this….this talking about feelings things often. Both of them have always been better with actions than words. But for once he knows actions won’t be enough.

So Draco turns, placing his hand on Harry’s chin and tilting his head up just a bit so he’s looking him in the eye.

“I’m not leaving, Harry. Not ever. I want this life and I want you.”



Dreams of Candlelight

The veela drarry thing.
Part 1-8 (X) || Part 9-13 (X)


Harry breathed in the steam floating up from the fine ceramic cup in his hand.  The fragrance was warm and floral, relaxing the tension in his shoulders as it curled into his skin.

“Mr. Potter,”

Harry looked up from his perch on the couch, on the opposite end of his aunt and cousin, putting him closest to their guest. He set the cup down on the matching saucer with a gentle clink.

“Before we get started, I would like to mend your injury.” Mrs. McGonagall gestured with her wand. “May I?”

Having just seen her make fine china tea cups and an entire platter of small cakes appear from thin air, Harry was keen on witnessing more magic. He ignored the way his aunt and cousin huddled as far away from them as possible, and looked at the aged woman who sat in Uncles Vernon’s arm chair. He saw kindness crinkled around her eyes and remembered the stern set of her face when she all but barreled into the house after Aunt Petunia tried to shut the door in her face. He didn’t think many people often said no to this woman and got away with it.

“Er, sure?” Harry replied with a small smile.

“Just a diagnostic charm first then.”

She flicked her wand at him and said a spell, making Aunt Petunia whimper. Harry faintly glowed a soft blue and Mrs. McGonagall’s expression tightened even more as she glared at the spot above his head. Harry looked up to see wispy words and numbers floating over him but was unable to discern the meaning for himself. She turned to his aunt.

“Would you be so kind as to explain how Harry managed to break his arm? And why he has gone without treatment? Surely you have access to a hospital.”

Aunt Petunia made some incoherent noises before Dudley blurted in a high pitched voice, “The freak fell.”

After Dudley’s outburst, Aunt Petunia seemed to gather herself. Harry knew that if Uncle Vernon were here, he’d be purple faced and shouting, but luckily he was at work.

“The boys tend to rough house, you know how children are. They play hard.” She sniffed with narrowed eyes. “He didn’t say anything about a broken arm. I believed it was a sprain. He is a clumsy boy. Prone to getting sick often as well.”

“I see. In my experience, children can be as cruel as an inattentive adult.” Mrs. McGonagall’s replied briskly. She turned her attention back to Harry. “Mr. Potter, may I heal your arm? I’m not a Healer, that would be a ‘doctor’ , but I can mend scrapes in a jiffy. We will have a professional look you over afterwards, of course.”

“No! No more waving that - that thing in this house!” Aunt Petunia cried.

Mrs. McGonagall ignored her and waited for Harry to nod and scoot closer to her chair. “This might hurt a bit or feel odd.” She waved her wand over his arm multiple times, it looked excessive really, then with a muttered spell, jabbed the tip at him.

Harry felt a cool sensation wash over his arm before the bones and muscles knitted together. He blinked in awe and held up his arm to inspect it, moving it painlessly for the first time in days.

“I love magic.” Harry said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, have a cake Mr. Potter, and we’ll get you sorted.”

“Sorted? He’s not going to that freaky school! I’m not paying for it.”

“I assure you that Hogwarts takes magical education very seriously. The professors are very passionate about the subjects they teach.” She sipped her tea. “As for Mr. Potter’s tuition and supplies, it is taken care of. That is, if you want to attend? Unless you would rather further your education here in the muggle world?”

Harry swallowed a bite of cake and cleared his throat. “I’d like to go to Hogwarts.”

“You were accepted to Hogwarts the day you were born.” Mrs. McGonagall smiled. “Your parents would be thrilled. You’ll make a fine wizard.”

“You aren’t going to that school, boy. Do you hear me? If you leave to go to that school, you aren’t to come back here.”

He bit his lip. His heart hammered in his chest. Harry felt both elated and nauseous at the thought but he wanted to do this.

He was magic.

He wanted to be able to make friends. Harry had Draco, but he wanted to know what it was like to have other friendships too.

“Mr. Potter,” he looked up from his plate. “I will help you look into other possibilities if you desire. You have choices, and a difficult path ahead of you, but you aren’t alone.”

Harry thought of his dreams, about Draco, about flying and sharing stories. Every day he hoped that magic was real, and wanted badly for something to happen so the Wizarding world could be real. He wasn’t stuck here. He could leave now if he wanted.

Harry grinned at her. “When do we leave?”

One-Shot: Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Disclaimer: Contains swearing.

“No way!”
“Absolutely not!”
“Don’t even think about it.”

The protests of the Avengers rang out amongst the room. Cap had walked in and, sick of the amount of obscene language used by his friends, placed an empty jar on the table on which was stuck a label containing the words “Swear Jar”, scribbled in barely legible writing. Standing with his arms folded, Steve tapped his foot angrily.
“It’s not that bad an idea.” He protested. Bruce approached him and softly placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Believe me when I say that it is.” He said in his usual quiet and sincere tone. After giving a weak smile, he left the room. It wasn’t really going to affect him anyway as a naturally calm person but even he knew that the idea was not going to be easy for the others to digest. Steve had anticipated as much and so continued to talk to the others.
“I think it would be helpful.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Tony said, stepping forward and placing a hand over his chest.
“Did we not make fun of you enough already?” He flashed an insincere smile. Cap rolled his eyes.
“Well I don’t care. It’s staying here. I’m not saying you have to stop altogether, just the more profuse terms.” Clint had his arms folded.
“Well, what counts as profuse?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I have a list.” Tony turned to Clint and gave him an exaggerated nod with raised eyebrows.
“He has a list.” He mocked with a wink. Clint stifled a smirk but Steve shot daggers at him whilst searching for the piece of paper.
“Это абсурд.” (This is ridiculous.) Pietro whispered to Wanda.
“Чертов смешно.” (Fucking absurd.) She replied. Natasha picked up on her native tongue and turned round subtly. Wanda gave her a wink and she smiled. After pulling out the crumpled piece of paper, Steve placed it on the table. The others gathered around and examined it.
“What the fuck?” Tony exclaimed – Cap winced. The jar was not yet in effect.
“Why is “hell” on there? That’s not a swear word!” Tony waved his hands dramatically to emphasise his point and Natasha nodded.
“Yeah, I have to say Cap, some of these are a little extreme.”
“Everybody gets to choose one word to cross off.” He said, handing them a pencil.

Keep reading