So I kinda always have this headcanon where Harry forgets the Marauder´s Map somewhere (like on his bed) and Ron finds it and wants to close it but then he sees Harry´s name in an empty classroom.
Well the classroom is empty apart from Draco Malfoy whose name is really really close to Harry´s (like really). So Ron runs to Hermione all like
“Bloody hell Hermione Harry´s having a fight with Malfoy! O_o We need to help him, look!”
So they both run, panicing that Harry makes again some stupid stuff, to that classroom .
And well, when they open the door they see HARRY FUCKING THE SHIT OUT OF DRACO MALFOY and I let you imagine the rest
This was written for the Discord Drabble Challenge. The prompt was bubbles and the wordcount 283, also on Ao3
warnings for euthanasia and implied MCD
He brought a new marble today, as he always does. It’s pretty, glittering in the light, eager to play with the others.
Their bag is dangerously full, more difficult to close after each of his visits. Once, he promised he would have me out of here before I had more marbles than space. I believed him, then, when he held my hand and I was afraid of sleeping here on my own.
He still holds my hand, and I’m still afraid, but I don’t believe it anymore. He tries, gives everything he has towards a cure, but I think we both know the truth. The marbles are nice, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow. Sometimes, I think I can see them flying, like bubbles. He used to love bubbles, born of magic and soap. He would stand between them, dishes forgotten, creating more and more bubbles, laughing and dancing with them, sun shining on my little domestic memory. It’s all I have left, memories of happier times.
I know I could spend a lifetime like this, cables and tubes binding me to bed, the man I love visiting as often as he can, bringing gifts of marbles. I could grow old like this, older than average.
I can’t do that to him. It’s tearing him apart, seeing me like this, being unable to help me, all he has to offer cheap glass and cramping hands. I love him, and sitting at my sickbed is not a future I want for him.
The Healers whisper, quiet where he can’t hear; he would be upset. They suggest endless sleep, my cure. But I won’t be sleeping; it’s my turn to watch over him.
Author notes: Written for the February’s Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge. Prompt: Bubble. Thanks so much to the mods for organizing this and to darrinya for the beta work ❤️
Draco let the hot water calm his body. Colourful soap bubbles floated around him and made the bath even more pleasant with their perfumes. Soft music was playing, and candles lit the room warmly. He sighed softly and closed his eyes, ignoring the tears that insisted on falling.
“Hey,” a soft voice said. Draco opened his eyes and saw Harry, looking at him with concern. “What’s wrong, love?”
Draco swallowed and wiped his tears in a useless attempt to hide them from Harry. He opened his mouth, but the words refused to come out. He shook his head and extended his hand towards Harry in invitation to join him in their huge bath.
Moments later, he had his head on Harry’s shoulder with Harry’s arms tightly wrapped around his torso. Tears still left his eyes.
“Did something bad happen at work today?” Harry asked.
“No,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… Life is too much sometimes.”
Harry hummed in agreement and tightened his hug. The bubble of anxiety, worries, and fears that had grown and grown inside Draco’s chest in the last hours shivered a little at being confronted with Harry’s love, but stayed there, refusing to leave so easily.
“Harry…” he dared to say after some minutes.
“Yes?”
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t breathe. I shouldn’t be allowed to—” a sob cut off his words. He buried his face in Harry’s chest and let out all the pain that had been suffocating him.
Harry held him and murmured soothing words until Draco finally felt calmer and ready to leave the bath. The bubble was still in his chest, but it looked smaller than before.
It doesn’t matter that Harry is kind, and brave, and intelligent. It doesn’t matter, because he’d never think of you the way you think of him. You’re cruel, and weak, and broken.
But reminding yourself of that doesn’t stop your heart from pounding as he turns away from the stove to look at you. To smile.
You smile back helplessly. His eyes are bright behind his glasses, curls falling into his face. He’s more beautiful than you could ever put into words.
Harry turns back to the stove, stirring the soup with unending patience. Soup that he’s making for you. Because you’re sick, and he invited himself over, and now he’s cooking in your kitchen like it’s his. You can’t hold back your heavy sigh.
He turns again, hearing it. Harry’s brow furrows as he walks over to you and takes a seat.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been distant all day.”
Of course he noticed; he’s the most attentive friend you’ve ever had. Friend. You’re happy with friendship. Friendship is more than enough.
But he stares at you with those eyes and you can’t help but be honest. “I don’t deserve you,” you say.
Harry frowns, but his voice is soft as he replies. “I thought we’d moved past that.”
“I’m sorry, I-”
“You deserve the world, Draco.” He takes your hands with his own. “Don’t you know how much I care about you?”
“I- care about you too,” you choke out.
Harry lets go, moving his hands to cup your jawline. His touch is soft, almost nonexistent. You can’t breathe.
“Stop me if you don’t want this.” He leans forward. You don’t stop him.
“So this is your childhood room, huh?” Harry asked, flopping on Draco’s bed.
After the war, Draco decided to turn the Manor into an orphanage and welfare centre for troubled youth. They’d cleared out most of the property, all that remained were the main bedrooms, which was how Draco found himself in his old room with his current boyfriend, Harry Potter.
“Is that a poster of me?” he asked, squinting at the wall opposite the bed.
Draco ran and ripped off the magical poster showcasing Harry on a broom during a Quidditch match from the wall.
“It was a gag gift from Pansy,” Draco blushed.
“Sure,” Harry smirked, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist, placing a quick kiss on his nose.
“Okay, come on, help me pack,” Draco said, pushing Harry away, but not before giving him a peck on his lips.
“Will you put these old robes in the discard pile?”
Draco turned towards Harry and let out a sudden gasp.
“Where did you find that?”
Draco gently lifted a stuffed unicorn lying atop the discard pile. It was a cute, purple thing, slightly dusty, with a torn wing which Draco mended with a quick spell.
Harry gave him an amused look as Draco cleared his throat.
“Mother got me this when I was a child… I always wanted a pet unicorn… I named him Sir Bubblegum Winglefur… Bubbles for short,” Draco reminisced.
“Awww! Adorable,” Harry chuckled.
Draco huffed, “Well, I’m not a kid anymore.” With a longing look, he put the toy back in the pile and they continued sorting the room.
Later when Harry was carrying the boxes out, he made sure to safely tuck away Bubbles in his jacket.
Written for the February Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge.
Prompt: Bubbles
Word count: 283
Thank you to the organisers and all the lovely folks over on Discord.
Rating: T Warnings: None For the February Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge - “bubbles,” 283 words
“Can you feel that?” Harry whispered, one hand on Draco’s hip, the other over his eyes, Harry’s lips a centimetre from his ear. Draco could feel the warm press of Harry’s body against his, and he could feel the gentle rumbling of the ground beneath his feet and the heat rising around him.
Draco nodded, letting his mind tune into the vibration, letting himself feel the Earth’s roiling magical energy like a steady heartbeat.
“Can you smell it?” Harry asked, and Draco took a deep breath, relishing in Harry’s breath against his neck, hot and close.
“I can,” Draco said, taking in the sulfur-thick heat and wrinkling his nose. The acridic air was overwhelmingly intense when he let himself focus on it.
“Look,” Harry said, pulling his hand away to settle on Draco’s other hip. Draco leaned against him and opened his eyes, gasping in awe at the bubbling volcano before them.
For once, Draco was silent, staring in awe at the crashing cacophony of fire and foaming lava and gurgling smoke in the air, too vibrant to be real. But it was real. He could feel the Earth rumbling under his boots, smell the heat in the air, taste the power seething beyond the peak.
“Now cast,” Harry said, placing his palm over the back of Draco’s hand and raising it. Draco did as he said, focusing on the explosive noise of the volcano rather than the gentleness of Harry’s hand and he cast, sending a great spurt of Incendio fire bursting from his fingertips.
“I did it,” he breathed, unbelieving.
“You did,” Harry answered, pressing a kiss to Draco’s neck. “I told you, wandless magic just takes a bit of inspiration.”
Thank you for everyone putting up with my weird drawbles in the Drarry Discord
Warning: do not insert-
“So you want to explain what odd bit of potion you have slurping about in there? It’s obscene.” Draco’s tone was cutting and imperious, and if he hadn’t been talking about a lava lamp, Harry wouldn’t have found it as hilarious as he did.
“It’s not a potion—it’s Muggle.”
“Riiiiiiight,” Draco sneered, as if Harry was having him on. “So you have a levitating, neon substance the color of adolescent Billywig, and you want me to believe it’s not magical?” He huffed and crossed his arms. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine—keep your secrets. But don’t spew such untenable lies-”
At this point, Harry was clutching his sides with silent laughter.
“What’s so funny?!”
Unable to hide it any longer, Harry let out an explosive snort. “It’s not like… I mean, I’m not laughing at you—not really, anyway – but it truly is Muggle. I’m not lying. It was Sirius’ in the 70s.”
Draco blinked at him like that explained nothing at all. “You’re telling me, that that-” he pointed here at object of great deception, “-is a Muggle…what? Drink?” At Harry’s silence, his eyes grew wide and cheeks flushed. “Don’t tell me…it’s not a, y’know, sex toy…is it?!”
Harry burst into a renewed wave of laughter and tugged Draco in by the collar to press an adoring kiss to the side of his cheek. “No, you idiot, it’s a lamp.”
“A…lamp?”
Draco’s cheeks grew redder still as he contemplated the object. “So…not something you would put up your…”
“No! No one’s putting a lava lamp up their arse, Malfoy!” Harry knocked them onto the bed with a smirk. “But I can put something else up your arse if you want.”
Air escaped Harry’s lungs in a whoosh as he sunk below the surface, the water surrounding him rippling with the waves. Soon after it started to calm like he expected, letting him catch his breath.
Draco had shown off his powers early on. Harry could still recall the look of pity when he first aided him with a bubble to breathe underwater.
A transfer student? In sixth year? Most unusual. But Harry Potter’s reputation preceded him: The Chosen One.
They sorted Potter into Gryffindor, which Draco thought was ridiculous. Slytherin had the best view of the Black Lake. Potter’s eyes, stupid and bright, were the perfect shade of Slytherin green. So was his tail.
Draco sat in Charms and watched with great amusement as the Weasel struggled to push Potter’s tank into class. Draco didn’t want to know how many Levitation Charms it took to get him all the way up into Gryffindor Tower.
Potter was pretty, with wild hair and a cool tattoo: a triangle and circle bisected by a line. But he never spoke. He communicated through the bubbles he exhaled. When excited, they’d fizz like champagne; when sad, they’d get all wobbly and sink. When Potter and the Weasel fought, the bubbles became jagged and cracked the tank (Granger was quick with her Reparo).
But whenever Draco walked nearby, Potter’s bubbles transformed into tiny hearts.
One day, when they were all alone, the git grabbed Draco by his tie and pulled him under.
My hair! My clothing! I can’t breathe!
Except he could, so long as Harry touched him. Before he knew it, Harry was kissing him, slow and languid. Draco felt that kiss for days, long after he’d spelled himself dry.
Soon the world closed in; the war loomed closer. Before long, Death Eaters surrounded the castle. Everyone held the prophecy close to heart. They firmly believed Harry was their Saviour.
But Draco knew better. Harry may have the softest lips he’d ever kissed, but the wizarding world was fucked.
Written for the February 2021 Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge Prompt: Bubbles Word Count: 283
I had such a great time hosting the Drabble Challenge this month. As usual, I was blown away by everyone’s creativity, and I loved seeing all the different interpretations of the prompt ❤️
triggers: assumed and implied suicide attempt / hopeful ending
Fears That Stay
“I am back!” BANG! The door is shut. “Sorry, I’m late. I got pizza!” You slip off your shoes and walk into the kitchen. A bottle of wine sits on the counter, half-empty.
Your eyes fall onto an open envelope and a short message in Hermione’s handwriting. There’s a newspaper article too. Some of the lines are smudged.
“POTTER’S SECRET LOVE NEST UNCOVERED - SAVIOUR STILL INVOLVED WITH DEATH EATER SCUM.”
Dread crawls down your spine and claws at your heart.
“Draco?”
“I’ve been working hard to change, but they’ll never acknowledge any of it.”
Apprehension pulls you into the living-room, into the office. No Draco.
“I can’t breathe in London. The way they look at me, the hidden insults, those articles.“
“Draco?”
You hurry upstairs. The bedroom is empty.
More of Draco’s words flood your mind. They’ve been buried inside of you for three years.
“This is no life. If I stay…”
You burst into the bathroom. Draco is in the tub, eyes closed, face pale. The foam gleams red.
Your cry vibrates between the tiled walls. You stumble forward, hands and eyes searching for cuts.
Draco stirs. He opens his eyes. His gaze focuses on your face. Surprise answers your panic.
You notice a wine glass in the water.
“Oh god, for a moment I thought…” Your voice breaks.
“What?” He seems confused, then gasps. “No, Harry. Never. I was sleeping.”
“But in London…”
“That’s…in the past.” He holds you close.
Later he says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t make sure you know. Life here hasn’t been a bubble waiting to burst. I’ve changed. I’m happy. No filthy article can change that. Do you believe me?”
You smile. One day you will.
Draco in the bath, angry about that dirty article, but not upset enough to stay awake in the warm water after a long day and half a bottle of wine.
I participated in the Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge for the first time! The prompt was bubbles.
CW: This is mostly fluff, but there is some mild smut too!
—
Draco is not sure where to look.
Certainly not at Potter, whose plain white Muggle t-shirt is positively plastered to his skin. In the bright Sunday sun, Draco can see every inch of his chest very clearly. The definition of his pecs, the darker circles of his nipples, tight from the cool wetness. The small hollow of his navel and the dark smattering of hair that leads lower and disappears into his waistband.
Draco is not a prude, thank you very much. He’s seen all of it before, and more.
But there are other people here. Children, even! He can’t imagine how Granger approved an idea this obscene at her charity event!
“Are you alright?” Potter teases, quirking a mischievous eyebrow.
Draco would swear that Potter deliberately squeezes the sudsy sponge all over the front of his shirt before turning back around to continue washing the car in front of him.
“Quite,” Draco mutters, thrusting his own sponge into the soapy water.
“Your face and neck are all red. Have you cast a skin-protective charm on yourself?”
“I think it’s a rash. I’ve got cheap car shampoo all over me,” he snaps. “My skin is very sensitive, you know.”
“You don’t taste like shampoo,” Potter mutters later, inside, mouthing at Draco’s neck, pressing him up against the wall in a deserted corridor. Draco can practically hear his smug smile. “At least not your neck. You might, elsewhere. I should check.”
His hand trails down, rough over the buds of Draco’s nipples, before settling lower, on the fly of his soaked trousers.
“Oh, do shut up,” Draco bites back, but it comes out weak and breathless.
This was written as part of the February Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge. The prompt was ‘Bubbles’ and the word count 283.
[little edit because i forgot to add these before i hit post but warnings for: possibly unrequited love, ambiguous/open ending, potential MCD and a questionable take on the hanahaki disease trope]
He’d always known it would end in some stupid way, much like this. After surviving the war, and being pardoned thanks to Potter and Weasley’s statements, Draco knew that sooner or later, it would all be for nothing.
The spell hits him from the back in a corridor full of students. If anyone sees who the culprit is, they’re not willing to share.
The first time he coughs up bubbles is three days later, when Potter asks him if he’s got a spare piece of parchment — his inkwell leaked inside his satchel. Draco means to say he knows a spell that will save his ruined parchment and his bag, but only bubbles come out.
The bubbles get worse as the autumn browns and reds give way to winter’s deep greens and snow whites. “There’s no actual water in your chest, Mr. Malfoy,” says Madame Pomfrey, “but I am afraid you are in fatal danger.”
“Lucky me,” he thinks.
Potter is concerned — a pity in his eyes Draco wishes he’d never seen before. Granger is in the library with him all the time, looking for answers in old tomes and musty volumes. McGonagall is choleric. Pansy is upset that he refuses to tell Mother. Blaise doesn’t look him in the eye, but Draco hears him sniffling at night.
Potter is worried — but that doesn’t stop the bubbles, it doesn’t make Draco feel like his heart and lungs aren’t filling up with soapy water every time he breathes.
Potter is desperate — desperation means nothing when it should be love . Madame Pomfrey says being loved back is the only thing that can save Draco.
The pop!, the swoosh!, the rush of golden bubbles. The chime of flutes, clink-clinks! and laughter.
“To newlyweds!”
“To newlyweds!”
“To newly married!”
“To newly…”
“… newly…”
Newly.
His face.
A flash of smile, perfect teeth, his fingers on the stem. Clink-clink. The ring, ring-ring!, ring-ringing brighter than sunbeams in his eyes.
Sunbeams in his hair.
You know how happiness shines on him.
This is happiness. This.
The rings are shining.
Champagne in slender flutes. Is shining.
His mother’s voice is shining. “Draco, darling."
"Mother.” His voice is shining.
A sip of golden bubbles is melting on your tongue. You take another, adjust your bowtie identical to his. It is funny , you think, you might be wearing his and vice versa and vice versa and vice versa and… Who knows? You steal a glance at him. He doesn’t seem to notice. Laughter is bubbling, you swallow it down. If his mother only knew.
“I wish you both all the happiness for the years to come.”
Are you drunk? Barely. Golden bubbles in your head. You wish it to be over. You wish it to never end. You wish to stare at his face, forever caught in brightness.
A tide of music rolls around the ballroom, bursting into the Wizard Wedding Waltz.
You close your eyes to the applause and steady yourself. Hold your breath. Open them. Raise your glass and join the chorus: “To the newlyweds!”
Written for February’s Drarry Discord Monthly Drabble Challenge: 283 words for “bubbles.”
Warning: Sectumsempra imagery; slightly nsfw
Many thanks to @fw00shy for being an excellent beta!
***
In Draco’s dreams after the War, Harry always accepts his hand. Harry’s nails are bitten to uneven ridges, his skin rubs rough, but his fingers welcome Draco as they curl and squeeze back. The handshake loops. Eleven again, Draco doesn’t let go.
Harry still beats him to the snitch in the flying ones. Draco watches the golden wings flutter, then still beneath Harry’s grasp, his own fingers pale and reaching into the emptied space left behind.
It’s Harry’s hands, not his wand, that rend him open in the Other dreams. Jagged nails pierce and spread Draco’s chest wide like cabinet doors, proving at last his insides aren’t yellow, but a searing, bubbling red, even in the dark, even against the grout, until time turns them dull and brown.
They burn together in the Room of Requirement. The broom won’t lift, stuttering beneath their weight. Neither makes a sound.
“I don’t know what it means,” he tells Luna one afternoon. She keeps painting, her face hidden from him while he’s laid out on her chaise.
“You don’t?” she asks.
He frowns. “You do?“
She hums to herself and doesn’t answer.
Sleeping with Harry doesn’t change the dreams—only the after.
Draco presses Harry deeper into the bed. Lets his thighs slide wider with every roll of his hips. The building heat, the need, colours his chest blush. It spreads unevenly over the valleys of his scars. When he’s close, he lets Harry lift their hands to his mouth. Watches Harry swallow each digit deep beside his tongue.
Neither is quiet when he comes.
Harry never speaks in the dreams. Here, he gathers Draco close, whispers: “Stay.”
Draco does. Sleeps. Harry’d be there when he wakes.
***
You can also read here on AO3 or listen to an awesome podficof this piece by the wonderful @lastontheboathere on AO3.
Drarry Drabble Challenge February 2021 l Prompt: Bubbles Rating: G l 283 words l Read it on AO3
“What if we went away together?” Draco asked one Thursday morning. They were both still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling of Harry’s bedroom before the alarm went off.
“Yeah?” Harry said, his voice sleep-rough.
In the dim light, Draco told him all about the whitewashed villa in Provence, and its tilted floors. Blowing enchanted bubbles in lavender fields under a lazy sunset. How he had known all the families and played in the summers with the local wizarding kids. He left out when the games changed over from playing Aurors and Dark Wizards to kisses behind someone’s shed, tipsy off a stolen half bottle of wine.
“That’s where you were after?” Harry asked. After always meant after the war, after the trial. But there was no accusation in his voice.
“Yes. We should go this summer.”
The alarm went off.
“Maybe,” Harry said. Draco’s stomach swooped with something like hope.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” Draco asked. Harry got up. He was off to the Ministry, but Draco would go home to his lab. So he sat up in bed and watch Harry stretch, flit around the room.
“We could go out to eat,” Harry said, picking up Draco’s clothes and folding them on a chair. “There’s a new Wizarding place.” He said it so casually. A tendril of shame curled in Draco’s belly.
“Before you said…” Draco began. Before always meant when they had started this, kissing in Luna’s back garden. “You didn’t want to be seen in public.” With me went unsaid.
"You can’t think I meant to keep you a secret forever,“ Harry said, sounding surprised.
Per usual, Potter struts around the Auror Trainees’ locker room as if he owns the place.
In the nude.
As a rule, Draco has no qualms about the human body naked and on display. He, himself, is often unclothed. As he should be—he’s a fine specimen. And, by extension, the locker room is an appropriate place for wizards to congregate in various stages of undress.
But must Potter always select the shower stall within Draco’s direct line of sight?
Apparently, it’s not enough that Harry fucking Potter—Ministry darling and the bloody Chosen One—is bestowed with magic so powerful it oozes from his flawless skin and disrupts Draco’s heartbeat.
No, in addition to all the privileges graced upon him, Potter’s Golden DNA seems to have twisted within its double helix the formula for a perfect bubble butt.
Draco stands under the shower, fingers pruning. If the daggers he stares were knuts they’d bounce right off that firm arse.
One by one, the showers turn off and the locker room empties until only he and Potter remain.
Harry glances over his shoulder. “You got a problem, Malfoy?” Soap bubbles shunt down through the valley between plump cheeks.
“You’re my problem.”
Harry snorts. “Kiss my arse.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Draco sneers.
Harry presses his palms against the wall and widens his stance, presenting. “I would. How about you?”
Draco’s blood ignites, flooding his groin. In two long strides, he’s in Harry’s stall, crowding him against the tiles, grinding his erection against him.
Harry’s moan strengthens Draco’s resolve.
Enough is enough.
But Draco discovers it’s difficult to put his foot down when he’s on his knees.
Welcome to a new term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It’s the first of September and the Hogwarts Express is once more heading towards Scotland. Are you ready to jump on board?
Harry Potter lives a simple life. He quit Auror training to become the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts and he loves it. He loves being an uncle to Rose, Hugo, Victoire, and Teddy. His only complaint—he is the eternal bachelor, unable to find anyone he wants to settle down with. To be honest, he isn’t really looking all that hard.
That is until Draco Malfoy is taken on as Madam Pomfrey’s apprentice bringing with him memories that Harry would rather not think about…like that night Draco Malfoy seduced him on the Quidditch Pitch eighth year and never called.
This autumn, we’ll post one fic per week for seven weeks, each one inspired by one of Hogwarts’ seven core subjects — Defence Against the Dark Arts,Transfiguration,Astronomy,Potions,History of Magic,Herbology, and Charms. Each story will be a stand-alone work, but together they’ll make up the anthology we call Seven Shades of Magic.
For our second week, we’re treated to a new perspective of our boys’ eighth year at Hogwarts. Will their Animagus studies be able to help them change more than just their physical appearances?
Harry’s back at Hogwarts for an eighth year. N.E.W.T.-level classes, Slytherins, and Animagus studies should be enough to keep him busy, but when did Harry ever do things the easy way? It all started when Harry decided to talk to that random, stone gnome perched in the Transfiguration classroom, and it all went uphill from here.
This autumn, we’ll post one fic per week for seven weeks, each one inspired by one of Hogwarts’ seven core subjects — Defence Against the Dark Arts,Transfiguration,Astronomy,Potions,History of Magic,Herbology, and Charms. Each story will be a stand-alone work, but together they’ll make up the anthology we call Seven Shades of Magic.
Welcome to a new term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It’s the first of September and the Hogwarts Express is once more heading towards Scotland. Are you ready to jump on board?
Harry Potter lives a simple life. He quit Auror training to become the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts and he loves it. He loves being an uncle to Rose, Hugo, Victoire, and Teddy. His only complaint—he is the eternal bachelor, unable to find anyone he wants to settle down with. To be honest, he isn’t really looking all that hard.
That is until Draco Malfoy is taken on as Madam Pomfrey’s apprentice bringing with him memories that Harry would rather not think about…like that night Draco Malfoy seduced him on the Quidditch Pitch eighth year and never called.
This autumn, we’ll post one fic per week for seven weeks, each one inspired by one of Hogwarts’ seven core subjects — Defence Against the Dark Arts,Transfiguration,Astronomy,Potions,History of Magic,Herbology, and Charms. Each story will be a stand-alone work, but together they’ll make up the anthology we call Seven Shades of Magic.
On Tuesday 1 September, we’ll post the first fic in our brand-new Drarry anthology: Seven Shades of Magic
For this one, we went back to school and let ourselves be inspired by Hogwarts’ seven core subjects: Defence Against the Dark Arts,Transfiguration,Astronomy,Potions,History of Magic,Herbology, and Charms.
Without limiting ourselves to the school environment, we’ve created seven new magical stories for you, each one centred around one of the fundamental pillars of wizarding education.
We — the Seven Shades of Drarry — are seven Drarry fanfiction writers of different backgrounds, ages, and nationalities who work together in a rare collaboration. Seven different writing styles, seven different strengths, seven different weaknesses, all united in one project, working together to create unified themed collections based around the number seven. Each theme has seven threads, each writer assigned a thread to inspire their story, and all combined to create The Seven Shades of Drarry.
Summary:Draco prepares a romantic bubble bath for Valentine’s Day…
**
Draco uncorked the bottle, relishing the little ~pop~ that echoed off the walls of the bathroom. It was still smoking slightly, as he had only just finished brewing it a few moments ago. He reached his arm over the tub and poured a generous amount into the rushing water. The liquid potion immediately transformed into thousands upon thousands of bubbles.
With a satisfied smile, Draco turned to light the red candle he’d infused with a few drops of his most powerful Amortentia potion. He struck the muggle match, his hair standing on end at the sizzling sound, and brought flame to wick. The smell of treacle tart, the wood of a broom handle, and vanilla filled his nostrils. After extinguishing the match, he sank into the steaming tub and disappeared under the bubbles.
He let out an elongated sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the feeling of the hot water prickling against his skin. The bubbles enveloped and caressed him, their soft kisses encouraging him to sink deeper into the water.
“You haven’t started without me, have you?”
The voice came from the doorway, and Draco opened one eye to peek at Harry. His lover was stripped bare, the candle casting shadows on his beautifully toned body—Harry joining a Quidditch Club had been an excellent idea, in Draco’s opinion.
“Come in,” Draco murmured, spreading his legs.
Harry settled into the tub, leaning against Draco who eagerly wrapped his arms around him.
“Why does the entire room smell like you?”
Draco snorted. “The Amortentia candle,” he explained.
Harry chuckled. “Well, that explains it. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Harry tilted his head back, and Draco tenderly pressed his lips to Harry’s.
“Happy Valentine’s Day."
**
~ My contribution to the February 2021 Drarry Drabble Challenge!~
Summary: It’s 8th year and let’s be real…. nothing has changed. Harry is still obsessed with Draco Malfoy.
** Harry watches as Draco stands and makes a beeline for the castle. Something green catches Harry’s eye as it falls from Draco’s person, unseen by the man walking away, his feet crunching against fresh-fallen snow with each step.
Harry steps out from behind a tree to investigate: a Slytherin scarf.
The Eighth Years were given Hogwarts-themed uniforms, and Harry knows how hard it is for him to be attending Hogwarts not wearing his Gryffindor scarlet and gold. He should call out to Draco—but when he opens his mouth, no words escape.
Instead, he picks up the scarf, allowing the fibres to caress his hands.
I’ll just borrow it, Harry thinks, wrapping the scarf around his own neck.
**
~ My contribution to the January 2021 Drarry Drabble Challenge!~
(Image 1, Prompt 25 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry: a sprig of mistletoe, tied together with a red ribbon, hanging in front of a wooden background.)
Part 1: 50 Shades of Red
“So, where are we going to have this…’party’?” Harry asked, expertly hiding his true reaction to Hermione’s invitation.
Hermione went slightly pink. “I was thinking…The Room of Requirement. You know…because it’s also called The Come and Go Room.”
Harry choked on his own saliva and Hermione laughed.
“You don’t have to come or even go to the party if you don’t want—”
“No, no, I dowant to come! GO. GO to the party, ” Harry assured his best friend whose eyes widened at Harry’s new-found enthusiasm and laughed kindheartedly at his slip-up. “I mean. I’m not like, obsessed, with the idea, you know me…I’m just…interested.”
“Uh huh,” Hermione nodded her brown eyes twinkling knowingly. “Interested in whom?”
It was Harry’s turn to go slightly pink. Or rather—crimson red. Hermione’s eyes went from soft, small, and twinkling to enormous saucers that challenged even Dobby’s most intense expression. “I WAS ONLY KIDDING— OH MY GOD! Who is it? Who did I say was coming that made you so eager to come!?”
Harry instantly went Gryffindor scarlet.
Hermione actually squealed and Harry rushed away from the Common Room to the dormitories—leaving his friend to go through the guestlist one more time alone. Now, as long as his roommate wasn’t there Harry would have some time to th—
“Hey, Potter.”
Harry stopped in his tracks and sucked in his breath. Then he let it out in a cool exhale, trying to disguise the fact that Malfoy had just caught him off guard. Sitting on his bed. Doing his homework. In their dorm-room.
“Yooo,” Harry said, slyly putting his hand to the back of his hair and posing casually in the doorway. Posing. Casually. Harry looked down at his body. What he was doing was far from posing. And far from casual. His body looked like the Whomping Willow trying to reach an itchy spot. He noticed Malfoy biting his lip as he quirked an eyebrow at Harry “chilling” in the doorway.
“You…alright?”
Harry blinked in response. Even though he and Malfoy had been on friendly terms since the end of the War when they had been preparing for Malfoy’s trial together, it still shocked him sometimes when his former archnemesis Draco Malfoy showed any interest in Harry’s well-being.
Harry quickly dropped his hand and stood normally in the doorway, like any other wizard. Wix. He was still practicing that…
Confident Draco Malfoy living his best life, medicinal and recreational marijuana use, years-long pining coming to fruition, so much love and fluff, Draco helped Harry during the Battle of Hogwarts (throwing Harry his wand, etc.)
** He had a plan. He was a Slytherin. He always had a plan. A scheme. He was going to tell him he looked beautiful, laughing in the snow. Yes, it was a strange way to start a conversation after not seeing each other for three years, but something told him it would be okay. Something inside him was urging him to just take the leap, and say at least some of the words he’d been keeping to himself since he was eleven years old. Some words he was sure to hold back….but Draco had been wanting to confess this since he’d first seen Harry in Madam Malkin’s that fateful day in Diagon Alley. The day he fell in love with the Boy-Who-Lived and was destined to pine after him from that moment on. All in secret—until now. Until this moment.
Draco’s life was brilliant. His love for himself was so much purer than it had been in his school-age years and even in the year after the war. Now, he was bursting with love and ready to give some of it to someone else…and he was sure he knew who that someone else was, as he looked at Harry’s bouncy, wild black hair and lightning bolt scar making their way towards him across the ice. He was an angel. Draco laughed at the cheesy thought—but it was true. Harry smiled when he saw Draco laughing and the two finally reached each other, approximately two feet of ice still between them. Draco had walked onto the rink in his trainers, he’d been drawn in as if by some magnetic force surrounding the other man. When he met Harry’s eye, the former Gryffindor raised his eyebrows. “You are fucking high, right now, aren’t you?” he asked, amusement colouring his words.
Draco renewed his laughter, and Harry joined him, shaking his head in disbelief. “A Malfoy, really? In public, like this?” Harry’s tone was light and playful.
“Honestly, it’s done wonders for me—smoking pot I mean, not being in public,” Draco clarified, and Harry’s laughter rang in his ears again. It was one of the most amazing sounds Draco had ever heard.
“Same, same,” Harry said. “I mean, when the psychiatrists don’t give a shit about you and nothing seems to actually work against the anxiety except the cannabis, you do what’s right for you, you know?”
They’d barely been speaking for 60 seconds, and both Draco and Harry had revealed something quite personal about themselves and their mental states. Their miraculous ability to be open and raw with each other so immediately did not go unnoticed by either of them, and they both blushed.
“So…what are you up to?” Draco asked. He remembered his scheme, sure. But he had to lead up to it; it was only logical.
“Oh, just skating with Ron and Hermione. It’s a Christmas Eve tradition of ours.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Harry’s eyes widened, obviously shocked at hearing such a word come out of his mouth. He’d always used words such as “lovely” but never in his presence.
“Would you like to…join us?” Harry invited him, and the Snitches returned to Draco’s stomach in full force.
“I—would love that.” Draco nodded, accepting the invitation.
“You’ll need some skates…I’m sure Hermione can transfigure some for you.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Harry chuckled. “Come on.” He reached out his hand to Draco, who took it, his heart pounding in his chest.
Harry was about to lead him back towards Weasley and Granger when Draco said, “Harry?” Draco felt breathless. He was going to say it. And they were still holding hands.
“Yes? Er…Draco?”
He dove in. “I was watching you, laughing there with your friends in the snow, and—” Draco trailed off and took a deep breath, regaining the courage to complete his thought. “And you looked beautiful.” A thought occurred to him. “You still look beautiful, now, of course!” Feeling he was absolutely done for, Draco continued digging himself a bigger hole, “Not just now! I mean in general you do, too, I just meant…specifically just now you looked—”
Harry was biting his lip, trying unsuccessfully to suppress his laughter as Draco stumbled over his words and rambled away, confessing much more than he’d expected. This was not really the plan. Draco had to laugh at himself—grateful he was at a place in his life now that he didn’t have to die in embarrassment but could enjoy this little blunder. Not very Slytherin-like, he had to admit.
~ My contribution to the December Drarry Drabble Challenge!~
Prompt: Tradition.
Tags/Warnings: Post-War, First Christmas Post-War, Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Sweet Banter
**
For as long as Draco could remember, his mother had encouraged him to develop an intimate and spiritual connection with the Earth. It was to be Draco and Harry’s first Christmas since the Battle of Hogwarts, and they were tending their individual Christmas Rose seedlings in the gardens of Grimmauld Place.
“Like this?” Harry asked, tentatively placing some soil around the seedlings, using a hand shovel that was so new, it brightly reflected the light of the candles they had conjured.
Draco grinned at the perfect image of his lover and the earth. As one. “Exactly,” he said. He used his own new hand shovel to delicately press the soil around their Christmas Roses.
When he was finished, Draco picked some soil up from the garden bed and relished in the feeling as he rubbed the dirt across his fingertips. Dry and damp at the same time, returning to the Earth while at the same time releasing his favorite scent—petrichor.
He took a deep breath and then exhaled with a contented sigh.
“It will take a few years before they fully bloom,” Draco explained.
“You mentioned,” Harry said. He paused. “They’re beautiful now.”
Draco nodded.
“As are you.”
Draco felt his cheeks burn. He’d never been good at hiding his embarrassment. His skin was just so pale and his blushes an intense beet red. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt lightheaded—still amazed to be standing here with Harry at all. In Grimmauld Place of all places, celebrating their first Christmas after the War but more importantly…their first Christmas together as lovers and no longer enemies.
They felt it was important to commemorate such an important chapter beginning in their lives, and Draco, having had such fond memories of his mother’s Christmas Rose tradition, suggested it to Harry, who had loved the idea.
“So…how does this work?” Harry asked.
“We’ll touch the soil with one hand…” Draco put his right hand in the garden bed next to Harry’s left and their pinkies touched.
“And now…make a wish.”
“What sort of wish?”
“Anything.”
“Does it have to be Christmas-related?”
“Potter!” Draco narrowed his eyes. “Just make a wish.”
Harry noticed Draco was standing in front of a shop. A tea shop. The sign read “Madam Puddifoot’s,” though it didn’t look like the same pink monstrosity Harry remembered.
“You’re…joking.”
Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “I most certainly am not.”
“You know I have bad memories here…”
“And?”
“And…well…it kinda messes up the vibe of the date, doesn’t it?”
Draco shook his head. “Stubborn Gryffindor. Look!” Draco pointed to the lovely brown-wood exterior and a shiny metal sign that jutted off the side of the wall, depicting a witch stirring a cauldron. There was magical blue steam bubbling in the cauldron and floating in whisps to form the words “Best Witches’ Brew!”
“Does this look like the same place you went to with Cho Chang in Fifth Year?” Draco asked, patiently.
“No,” Harry grumbled.
“No. So do you think perhaps the inside has changed as well?”
“It’s a…possibility.”
“Please, Harry.” Draco turned to him. “You know me. I know you. Do you really think I’d purposely plan a date that you would hate?”
“Yes,” Harry answered truthfully.
Draco’s eyes widened in shock and then, noticing Harry’s grin, he had to smile as well, shaking his head. “You, prat.” He leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Harry’s lips.
Draco felt Harry’s magic swirl around them as snow began to gently fall. “You always do that.”
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “Dragana, you know very well I am in the en suite bathroom getting ready for our Christmas party.” He continued checking himself out in the mirror, ensuring his hair was still in place from the new potion he was trying out.
Click-clack, click-clack came Dragana’s heels as she strode across the bedroom and into the bathroom as Harry turned to look at her.
She was radiant in her long royal blue sweetheart gown. The strapless bodice sparkled with crystals in an intricate and stunning beaded design, transitioning into a full tulle skirt, beads trickling down it.
“Turn around,” Harry asked, but it didn’t sound like a question.
Dragana huffed and put her hands—which were covered in arm-length silver gloves—on her hips.
“Are you ready yet?”
“I’m nearly ready, yes, my love. Please. Will you turn for me?” Harry bit his lip and spoke in his sweetest voice.
Dragana’s face flushed but she dropped her arms and spread them in front of her as she did a slow twirl. Harry’s mouth dropped in awe as his eyes caught sight of the blue ribbons lacing up the back of the bodice.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” Harry said when Dragana had completed her twirl, arms still outstretched.
Dragana’s face, which had been a light pink, turned scarlet. “Thank you,” she mumbled, and stepped forward, welcoming Harry into her arms.
“You’re nervous,” Harry said. This wasn’t a question—he felt it in the way her heart pounded in her chest against his.
“I’m fucking terrified that’s what I am,” Dragana admitted.
“Everyone who is coming already knows Dragana’s coming. They’re expecting you.”
“I know. I know. And I want to show them how amazing I am, I’m just…not sure…if I’ll be successful.”
Harry shook his head. “Sweetheart, we have already succeeded. Come.” They released each other. “Let’s go down together.” He held out a hand for Dragana who took it, steadying herself. She then interlaced her fingers with Harry’s. The silk gloves between his fingers whispered dirty promises and Harry shivered. “I’m so happy. Tonight is going to be momentous!” Harry exclaimed as they turned to make their way down the hall, down the stairs, and to the main floor.
Dragana raised an eyebrow.
“S-i-r-i-u-s—ly,” Harry said. “Molly still cannot believe that I have stolen Christmas from her, but she has no idea how magnificent and magical the first Potter-Malfoy Christmas party is going to be.”
Dragana giggled. “Especially with the Christmas crackers I’ve chosen for everyone…”
Harry mock-scoffed, “Excuse me? You really think you have a chance against me?”
Dragana renewed her laughter. “Ha! Yes, I really do, sweetheart. In fact— I bet you.”
Harry stopped abruptly causing the two of them to lose balance and Dragana to trip on her tulle skirt.
“Potter! ” Dragana snarled. She scooped the skirt up with a flourish and inspected it for harm. Seeing nothing, she huffed and let it fall. The tulle floated back down to the floor and Dragana punched Harry in the arm.
“Ouch!”
“Do you know how much I love this dress?”
“I’m sorry, I was just taken aback is all. What did you say?” Harry had definitely forgotten by now.
Dragana sighed and placed her hands on her hips and Harry’s cock twitched.
“I was saying: I’m willing to bet you that our friends and loved ones are going to go absolutely rogue Bludger when they receive my Christmas crackers. Whatever you have got, no matter how hard you may have tried, will ever live up to what I’ve got in store.”
Harry bit his lip, flushing. “I wouldn’t count your Snitches, my little prince…” His voice was soft and Dragana had to lean in to hear him properly.
When she’d caught the words, raised her eyebrows, “I’m quite confident, sweetheart. And I do bet you. I bet you…one wish.”
“A…wish?”
“You heard me. Whoever ends up having the most beloved Christmas crackers not only gets free reign for every future Malfoy-Potter Christmas Party—”
“Mm-hmm?”
“—but is also entitled to one wish to be granted by the LOSER,” Malfoy’s lips rounded saucily around the letters of the word “loser” and Harry’s cock twitched again—he imagined her lips in a round “Ohhhhhhh!” around it.
“Are you even listening to me?” Dragana was snapping her fingers to get Harry’s attention.
“Of course, I am,” Harry consoled her. “One wish. Okay! I’m with you there. The loser has to grant one wish for the person who’s Christmas cracker is the most marvelous, the most magnificent, most magical—”
“Potter, for fuck’s sake, we both get the picture. Now shake on it.”
“Not this time,” Harry said. “Kiss!”
Dragana rolled her eyes, but placed her hands on Harry’s cheeks, leaning in to give him a deep, sloppy, contract-binding smooch.
Harry whispered in Dray’s mind: You’re so good, my sweet princess.
He noticed how Dray nearly opened her eyes in astonishment at the unexpected presence of Harry in her mind, but quickly regained composure.
“Yes, you are such an obedient princess, aren’t you? You may respond.”
“Yes, sir. I want to be good for you.”
“And that pleases me. Now. Please open your eyes.” Dray did. “As gorgeous as you are, my love, I think it’s about time we take this off. I want you to strip—slowly. Now.” Harry said as Dray’s hands flew to the cape at her chest.
Dray’s hands slowly unbuttoned the faux fur. Harry couldn’t stand waiting. “Stop,” he demanded, and Dray did, slightly startled. “Too slow. Hands at your sides.”
Dray complied, her eyes glazed, obviously sunken into subspace already.
“Permission to speak, sir?”
Harry grinned. “Permission granted.”
“Please don’t rip anything off of me today…this dress—”
“That’s enough,” Harry cut her off. “You’ve made your request. And your request will be granted. If—” Harry quirked an eyebrow, “you remain a good girl. Now, you can do that, can’t you?”
Dray’s eyes lit up and she smiled nodded vigorously and straightened up, as if to better show Harry how good she could be.
Harry stroked the soft white fur around Dray’s chest with the back of his fingers. It tickled his skin and Harry sighed at the feeling, slipping his fingers to the hidden buttons at the back and undoing them, one by one.
Dray whimpered as Harry slid the fur down her skin, letting it hit the floor with a softswoosh. This revealed the scarlet red dress, hugging Dray’s hips, which Harry’s hands immediately enveloped. He gently caressed her sides, her back, her now bare arms, and relished every second their skin was in contact…
Trans/Gender Fluid Draco (Dray, she/her pronouns in this scene)
**
“I have a gift for you.” Dray withdrew a particularly gorgeous gift and gave it to Harry.
“Dray, you know it’s not Christmas yet,” Harry playfully chastised, but he was more than excited about getting a Christmas gift earlier—especially if it was related to them going to the bedroom.
“Well,” Dray licked her bottom lip in a way that made Harry’s cock stir again. “It’s actually a gift for both of us.”
“Is it?” Harry quirked an eyebrow, his interest thoroughly peaked. “Well, then…I suppose I could make an exception. Just this once,” he said with a wink. He carefully untied the golden ribbon and delicately tore off the individual pieces of Spellotape, letting the paper slowly separate from the box.
Dray could barely contain her excitement as Harry opened the box tantalizingly slowly.
“Come on! Just tear it open!” She placed her hand on his arm and pushed him playfully.
“Patience, young Prince, or I might have to tear you open.” Harry threatened.
Dray’s voice whispered in his head: “That’s the idea…”
Upon hearing those words, Harry changed his tactic and ripped the paper off, relishing in the satisfying tearing sound. Inside he found a plain, black box with a lid, which Harry gingerly removed.
Harry would never have guessed what would be found in the confines of such a nondescript box. Inside, resting upon some gold and silver tissue paper, Harry’s eyes landed on a sexy silicone double-ended dildo…
Harry had just finished decorating the cookies for the annual Potter-Malfoy Christmas Party. He admired the stockings and gingerbread men, perfectly frosted with red, green, and white icing…
Harry had to admit, he was getting good at this. Harry conjured some candles and summoned the treacle tart, berry and pumpkin pies from the kitchens and skillfully set the table. The tablescape wouldn’t be up to Draco’s standards, he knew that. But he knew, just like his cookie decorating skills, he was getting a lot better at decorations and table settings.
He felt arms wrap around his middle from behind and sighed contentedly as lips pressed against his cheek. “It’s Dray, today,” the wix whispered in his ear and Harry nodded, his eyes closed in order to better heighten his other senses as he turned to kiss his lover. He teased himself in his imagination, wondering what Dray might look like today— it was the Christmas Party, after all, and he knew Dray loved fancy silk things.
Harry hummed softly, savoring the kiss for a moment longer before pulling away, eyes still closed.
“They?”
“She. And any honorifics you should choose.”
Intrigued, Harry opened his eyes and finally caught sight of Dray. His eyes bulged and he didn’t even attempt to stop the huge grin now spreading across his face. “Like ‘My Absolutely Gorgeous Prince’ who looks fucking radiant in that gown?”
Dray chuckled and stepped back to give a twirl. The scarlet Christmas gown fell straight to the floor and was covered by a brilliant long-sleeved, floor length cloak which trailed a couple of feet behind her in a sweep train which reminded Harry of Dray’s wedding dress. This gown, however, was much more festive: a crimson velvet cloak trimmed in white faux fur. The soft fur trim ran down both edges of the cape to meet in the center of Dray’s chest before separating again to reveal the scarlet gown hugging her hips.
“I—I can’t even, Draco. Dray,” Harry corrected himself and Dray grinned brightly. She looked more delectable than Harry’s cookies.
“You are so beautiful,” Harry complimented her. “Too bad it’s gonna have to come off…”
Read the full story here (and take a look at that gown ;) ):
(Image Description: Prompt 13 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry: Close up of frozen ice and snowflake crystals.)
(Image: The Adventmarkt am Karlsplatz in Vienna, Austria. The church stands magnificently in the background, in the foreground there is a hay pen and fairy lights strung across the market–for a more detailed description of the church continue reading the story!)
Drarry Christmas Fluff! ***********
Excerpt:
“And now, Harry, dear…” Draco kissed Harry on the cheek. “I have another surprise for you.” They were walking up towards Karlskirche , or “Charles’ Church” as Draco had translated for Harry. It was one of the most astounding baroque churches in Vienna, dedicated to Saint Charles Borromero, according to Harry’s stunningly gorgeous tour guide. Draco had taken him on a tour of the outside of the church after they’d done some Christmas shopping at the Standerln.
*
“You know, this church is considered architect J.B. Fischer’s greatest work,” Draco had explained, “And it’s not too difficult to comprehend why. As you can see—” Draco looked up at the building in awe as he held both arms open, presenting the church to Harry, who bit his lip attempting not to laugh at his lover who was taking his tour very seriously.
“Now, Harry, are you paying attention? Look. Do you see the façade in the center, which leads to the porch?”
Harry nodded.
“It mimics Greek temple porticos.”
“Ah…” Harry had remembered those from their trip to Greece, summer of last year. Ever since the beginning of their relationship, Draco had whisked Harry to different holiday destinations—evidently for the sole purpose of admiring the architecture. Draco could be such an insufferable architecture snob when he wanted to be, and Harry loved him dearly for it.
“And those neighboring columns—” Draco pointed out the columns on either side of the portico. “Their sculptures display scenes from the life of Charles Borromeo in a spiral relief. Charles, as in, Karl , the patron saint this church was built to commemorate who was revered as a healer for plague sufferers.”
“Oh, wow.” Harry had been standing a good two meters from the left column and he bent back to admire the magnificent piece of architecture from the bottom up.
“Mmm, yes, I see the sculptures you were talking about. It’s beautiful.”
Draco nodded. “However, the columns were not crafted by J.B. Fischer himself.”
“Oh, no?” Harry couldn’t believe that after two years, Draco had finally got him hooked on this stuff too.
“Nope. That was Lorenzo Mattielli, who was inspired by Trajan’s column in Rome.”
Harry’s eyes widened, as it finally dawned on him. “You’ve been planning this. Ever since we got together. It’s true! Don’t even try to hide it anymore!”
Draco laughed, caught red-handed.
“First, we went to Rome on our first holiday together, then we went to Greece that summer…”
Draco nodded, the grin breaking out across his face. “And you know why, don’t you?”
“I would have never understood the epicness of this magnificent piece of architecture if you hadn’t have taken me to those places first.”
Harry finally returned Draco’s grin and he felt tears form behind his eyes.
“This is the most well-thought out and meaningful gift anyone could have ever given me, Draco. Thank you so much.”
It’s Draco’s first Christmas living with Harry, and okay, maybe it’s a little bit “extra”, but he’s Draco sodding Malfoy and if he wants to give Harry the best Christmas ever, it’s his right as his boyfriend. So strap on your Santa hat and hang on tight, because this is going to be a bumpy, and slightly ridiculous, sleigh ride.
Harry Potter is the newly promoted Head Officer for the Department of Magical Creature Regulation, and he is passionate about his work protecting vulnerable animals who can’t advocate for themselves. An added benefit of the job is the close relationship that he had developed with his colleague, Wizengamot prosecution barrister Draco Malfoy. Harry’s life is happy and he feels satisfied with his place in the world. Abruptly, Harry’s happy existence is thrown into disarray when a small snowy owl starts dropping tip-offs about magical creature crimes to Grimmauld Place. Harry isn’t sure what to think. Is his benefactor a friend or foe? Why are they making such stringent efforts to conceal their identity? Draco doesn’t seem concerned, but Harry can’t help but feel intrigued by the mystery. Who is the wizard behind the owl?
Hogwarts is the very last place that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy want to return to after the war. The Castle feels claustrophobic and stifling. Both feel trapped within its walls. Harry is traumatised by the war, by his sudden breakup from Ginny, and by the knowledge that his friends all know what they want to do with their life. Meanwhile Draco is reeling. He has narrowly escaped an Azkaban prison sentence and is struggling under the strict rules of his probation. He doesn’t know where his mother is, and finds himself a pariah among the other students. The last thing that either student wants is mandatory Mind Healing. What has happened to them feels so big and devastating, that writing to a stranger feels farcical. Even so, they are not given a choice. Harry and Draco are both given a shared magical diary, and soon they begin writing letters to an anonymous fellow student. Their letters, terse at first, grow longer as the days pass. Before long, each wizard confesses their secrets and their fantasies, their wishes and their dreams. What will happen when their true identities are exposed? Will their vulnerable new relationship be destroyed before it has even begun?
The first story, and you could barely call it that, had appeared in the communal bathroom overnight. It was stuck to the mirror, one above each sink, like it was expected people might casually read it while brushing their teeth. Except, there was nothing casual about reading explicit erotica in a communal bathroom while shoving a lubricated brush in and out of your mouth. Blaise had been the first to find it, or rather, to gleefully admit that he had. He’d burst into the common room in his pants to declare, ‘There’s fucking porn in the bathroom!’ Someone’s writing smut and signing it with Harry’s name. Hermione isn’t buying it, and she has a plan to expose the true author. She also has her hand in her pants in a wardrobe.
Draco Malfoy, the celebrated Ghost Clearance Expert, is in Germany, trying to solve the tricky little matter of a stubborn ghost called Clara von Kellern. Exasperated after trying every spell he knows, Draco sends an owl to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in London, requesting their urgent help. Little does Draco know that the clerk who willingly grasps his letter is Harry Potter. Injured in action, Harry enjoys a quiet, deskbound existence and sees Draco’s letters as a bit of excitement to brighten up his dull days. Harry has no idea that investigating Clara’s life, and that of her beau (and potential murderer) Ernst Wernet will lead to the beginnings of a love affair all of his own.
Harry is holed up at work, avoiding the moment that he has to leave. His boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, had been argumentative and moody for weeks and now he wants to have a ‘little talk’ over dinner. Does this mean the end of their love affair or has Harry got the wrong end of the broomstick?
“Sometimes, when you smile, I swear I hear music, then I realise it’s just the beat of my heart in my ears…Come back so I can dance.” Harry finds a stack of post-its, and what starts as simply leaving Draco a reminder with a bit of romance turns into a lifetime of memories.
Harry and Draco come back for the eighth year, each with a new pet. Their pets keep scampering off to meet up, and can’t seem to get enough of each other. Will their owners take a hint and follow suit? Or 5 times Draco is furious at Harry’s pet and one time where Draco relaxes a bit and lets it go.
Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan. That’s what Draco’s mother always used to tell him, but Merlin, who could have predicted how right she would be? A story about feisty dragons, loneliness, family, and friends — and finding love in places you least expect. A Drarry cover of the romantic comedy While You Were Sleeping. Podficced by @melcarrianna
Draco Malfoy has the world as his feet. He’s twenty-three, first pick Seeker for Puddlemere United, has brilliant friends and a life he adores. The very last thing Draco wants is an unplanned pregnancy, especially one where the other father just so happens to be Harry Potter. Life, however, has other plans for him.
When Harry and Draco meet in a club, they decide to indulge in a one night stand. However, when Draco realises he’s pregnant with Harry’s baby, he doesn’t take it very well. Narcissa takes it upon herself to contact Harry and try to save Draco from self-destruction.
Harry and Draco have moved in together, but Harry is hiding the truth of his childhood from Draco. Draco struggles to understand until a phone call from Harry’s estranged cousin changes everything.
Head Auror Potter takes every case seriously, but some cases are personal. When Scorpius Malfoy goes missing, Harry can’t help but be involved, but he’ll need to move beyond past regrets and embrace his present.
Ever since the end of the war Draco Malfoy has been scratching a living as a sex worker. He lives on the margins of society in squalid rooms and doesn’t imagine that his life will ever change. Then, after a couple of years, Draco becomes pregnant by an unknown client. Despite the Healers at St Mungo’s treating him with prejudice and contempt, Draco is determined to keep his baby. In his desperation, Draco approaches the wrong person and the result is disastrous. Draco is beaten up and left for dead in an alleyway. As Draco hovers between life and death, Harry Potter discovers his bruised and battered body. The Saviour doesn’t only save Draco’s life. He takes Draco back to Grimmauld Place and helps him to recover.
✨ There Was Only One Bed: The Fest (Hermione’s Nook)
Draco should probably be freaking out. He’s stranded in a frozen wilderness with no wand, no supplies, and no way home. But he isn’t freaking out, and it’s totally NOT because he has his Auror partner with him. Not even a little bit. Or maybe a little bit. But probably not. Now, if only that little cabin they found had more than one bed.
It’s OK. Love is only meant for some; Harry knows that. Besides, he wouldn’t want to risk this new, amazing friendship he has going on with Draco for anything in the world. Keeping his walls from falling down is the least he can do.
Into the Unknownby@drarrelie (G, 4,558) Prompt: “Into the Unknown” (from Frozen II) by Idina Menzel & AURORA.
It’s been echoing within him for months, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to let go. A nagging feeling in his core, telling him to say something, to do something, to go somewhere. Last night it finally happened. He did it. And it felt good; right. “I can’t be sure.” Four words, easy as that. It had been almost impossible to smother the sudden burst of joy rushing through him as that deep-seated urge rejoiced his unexpected act of rebellion. You’d think the Dark Lord’s punishment would’ve taken the exhilaration out of him, but no. Here he is, countless Crucios later, beaten and bruised, and never has the voice sounded this clear. He’s said something. He’s done something. And now he just has to go somewhere. He has no idea where, but he’s certain it will come to him. All he has to do is get out of here, then trust magic to do the rest.
Harry’s suffocating under all the expectations of the wizarding world, but he’s fascinated at Malfoy’s sudden ability to flaunt his true self to whoever cares to watch. And Harry? He might like to do something more than watch if he can ever get up the nerve.
Prologueby@aedwritesfic (T, 4,565) Prompt: “We Don’t Have to Take Our Clothes Off” by Ella Eyre.
Ten years after the war, Harry stumbles across Malfoy in a Muggle club. What could have been an awkward encounter might just be a new beginning.
Requiemby@evaeleanor (T, 1,893) Prompt: “Requiem” by Michael Patrick Kelly.
Requiem — A song of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person.
Draco Malfoy is raped and watches as his world falls apart. Harry Potter is the quiet, unassuming wizard that finally listens to him. “I’m pregnant,” Draco repeated, bitterness evident from his tone. “Five months in, so there’s not much you can do to help me, Harry. Best fuck off now. Go and help somebody else. It’s too late for me. My life is already ruined.” The last word seemed to spark something in Harry. “Your life isn’t ruined,” he answered. “I don’t believe that, Draco. I don’t believe that for a single moment.” He paused, taking a moment before he continued speaking. “I’m sorry that I didn’t reply immediately. I wasn’t judging you. Please don’t think I was. I care about you. Anything I can do to help, I will.”
After a potions accident leaves Hermione partially transformed, she and her two husbands decide to have a little fun with it. For research purposes, of course…
It’s nearly a decade after the war, plenty of time for the world to have moved on and Draco to have become friends with Harry and Hermione. But Draco wants to be more than friends, and it only takes a couple of Firewhisky-inspired dances and wine-laced kisses to find out that he’s not the only one ready to take their friendships to the next level.
We’re happy to finally be able to present the additional, previously anonymous works to this compilation of fest fics — making it complete with, in total, 36 fics, 7 works of art, and 3 podfics.
Find your happy ending. The whole idea was ludicrous. His life consisted of loneliness, poverty and Master Potioneer Phillips’s petty tyrannies. Draco was grateful he wasn’t readying himself for prison, but the next fourteen years would be a long sentence nevertheless. When Draco is sentenced to a probation term of fourteen years, his future looks grim. Not only does he have to surrender his passport, but he is forbidden from having any contact with his beloved Mum. He lives in scruffy rooms on Knockturn Alley, works long hours as an Apothecary Apprentice and doesn’t feel like he has much of a future. Everything changes on the third of December, 1999. That evening Harry Potter sits beside Draco in the Thestral Tavern, returns his wand and asks to take his photograph with a Muggle Polaroid camera.
Draco has a lot of truths in his life, but the greatest of these is that he loves Harry Potter. This is the story of how Draco learns to be loved in return.
It’s December, nearly Christmas, and Draco Malfoy is having a difficult time being back at Hogwarts for his eighth year. Even though he is working hard to show he is a changed person, others still bully him. Plus, he also has to contend with his strong new feelings of love for Harry Potter. This fic takes place over the course of one snowy Hogsmeade afternoon, when a strong gust of wind steals Draco’s scarf. Will Draco be reunited with his beloved object and find the Christmas happy ending he deserves?
It is New Year’s Eve night and Harry and Draco are both in attendance at the annual Weasley party. Flirtatious conversations happen between the two and they end up sharing a bed. When Harry hears Draco mutter his name whilst he is sleeping, Harry slips into the other wizard’s dream. What he witnesses there is both a revelation and the sexiest thing he has ever seen. Perhaps, Harry thinks, this New Year will be the best of his life.
Draco and Harry have a game, each getting lost in a club and trying to find the other amidst the crowd. This story is what happens when Harry finds Draco first. Losing has never felt so good.
Each Christmas, Harry receives a mysterious wooden box, carved with rules and charmed shut. They open on the strike of midnight and are full of mementos of a love from twenty years before. Now he is older, does Harry have the courage to go after Draco Malfoy, the one true love of his life?
The war is over and most of Harry’s peers have returned to Hogwarts for eighth year to get their NEWTS. Unfortunately, Headmistress McGonagall has made it mandatory for the eighth years to participate in a play of the Labyrinth to encourage inter-house unity. With both Harry and Draco cast in the lead roles, what could possibly go wrong?
After suffering a career ending injury, Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts Academy as the boys school’s new football coach. Time and experience have helped mold him into the man he is today. When he unexpectedly finds himself housemates with the surly chemistry professor, Severus Snape, Harry begins to wonder if he hadn’t judged the man unfairly during his days as a student.
✨ Thank you to all the fests that inspire us and make this fandom thrive! ✨
It’s Draco’s first Christmas living with Harry, and okay, maybe it’s a little bit “extra”, but he’s Draco sodding Malfoy and if he wants to give Harry the best Christmas ever, it’s his right as his boyfriend. So strap on your Santa hat and hang on tight, because this is going to be a bumpy, and slightly ridiculous, sleigh ride.
Harry Potter is the newly promoted Head Officer for the Department of Magical Creature Regulation, and he is passionate about his work protecting vulnerable animals who can’t advocate for themselves. An added benefit of the job is the close relationship that he had developed with his colleague, Wizengamot prosecution barrister Draco Malfoy. Harry’s life is happy and he feels satisfied with his place in the world. Abruptly, Harry’s happy existence is thrown into disarray when a small snowy owl starts dropping tip-offs about magical creature crimes to Grimmauld Place. Harry isn’t sure what to think. Is his benefactor a friend or foe? Why are they making such stringent efforts to conceal their identity? Draco doesn’t seem concerned, but Harry can’t help but feel intrigued by the mystery. Who is the wizard behind the owl?
Hogwarts is the very last place that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy want to return to after the war. The Castle feels claustrophobic and stifling. Both feel trapped within its walls. Harry is traumatised by the war, by his sudden breakup from Ginny, and by the knowledge that his friends all know what they want to do with their life. Meanwhile Draco is reeling. He has narrowly escaped an Azkaban prison sentence and is struggling under the strict rules of his probation. He doesn’t know where his mother is, and finds himself a pariah among the other students. The last thing that either student wants is mandatory Mind Healing. What has happened to them feels so big and devastating, that writing to a stranger feels farcical. Even so, they are not given a choice. Harry and Draco are both given a shared magical diary, and soon they begin writing letters to an anonymous fellow student. Their letters, terse at first, grow longer as the days pass. Before long, each wizard confesses their secrets and their fantasies, their wishes and their dreams. What will happen when their true identities are exposed? Will their vulnerable new relationship be destroyed before it has even begun?
The first story, and you could barely call it that, had appeared in the communal bathroom overnight. It was stuck to the mirror, one above each sink, like it was expected people might casually read it while brushing their teeth. Except, there was nothing casual about reading explicit erotica in a communal bathroom while shoving a lubricated brush in and out of your mouth. Blaise had been the first to find it, or rather, to gleefully admit that he had. He’d burst into the common room in his pants to declare, ‘There’s fucking porn in the bathroom!’ Someone’s writing smut and signing it with Harry’s name. Hermione isn’t buying it, and she has a plan to expose the true author. She also has her hand in her pants in a wardrobe.
Draco Malfoy, the celebrated Ghost Clearance Expert, is in Germany, trying to solve the tricky little matter of a stubborn ghost called Clara von Kellern. Exasperated after trying every spell he knows, Draco sends an owl to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in London, requesting their urgent help. Little does Draco know that the clerk who willingly grasps his letter is Harry Potter. Injured in action, Harry enjoys a quiet, deskbound existence and sees Draco’s letters as a bit of excitement to brighten up his dull days. Harry has no idea that investigating Clara’s life, and that of her beau (and potential murderer) Ernst Wernet will lead to the beginnings of a love affair all of his own.
Harry is holed up at work, avoiding the moment that he has to leave. His boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, had been argumentative and moody for weeks and now he wants to have a 'little talk’ over dinner. Does this mean the end of their love affair or has Harry got the wrong end of the broomstick?
“Sometimes, when you smile, I swear I hear music, then I realise it’s just the beat of my heart in my ears…Come back so I can dance.” Harry finds a stack of post-its, and what starts as simply leaving Draco a reminder with a bit of romance turns into a lifetime of memories.
Harry and Draco come back for the eighth year, each with a new pet. Their pets keep scampering off to meet up, and can’t seem to get enough of each other. Will their owners take a hint and follow suit? Or 5 times Draco is furious at Harry’s pet and one time where Draco relaxes a bit and lets it go.
Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan. That’s what Draco’s mother always used to tell him, but Merlin, who could have predicted how right she would be? A story about feisty dragons, loneliness, family, and friends — and finding love in places you least expect. A Drarry cover of the romantic comedy While You Were Sleeping. Podficced by @melcarrianna
Draco Malfoy has the world as his feet. He’s twenty-three, first pick Seeker for Puddlemere United, has brilliant friends and a life he adores. The very last thing Draco wants is an unplanned pregnancy, especially one where the other father just so happens to be Harry Potter. Life, however, has other plans for him.
When Harry and Draco meet in a club, they decide to indulge in a one night stand. However, when Draco realises he’s pregnant with Harry’s baby, he doesn’t take it very well. Narcissa takes it upon herself to contact Harry and try to save Draco from self-destruction.
Harry and Draco have moved in together, but Harry is hiding the truth of his childhood from Draco. Draco struggles to understand until a phone call from Harry’s estranged cousin changes everything.
Head Auror Potter takes every case seriously, but some cases are personal. When Scorpius Malfoy goes missing, Harry can’t help but be involved, but he’ll need to move beyond past regrets and embrace his present.
Ever since the end of the war Draco Malfoy has been scratching a living as a sex worker. He lives on the margins of society in squalid rooms and doesn’t imagine that his life will ever change. Then, after a couple of years, Draco becomes pregnant by an unknown client. Despite the Healers at St Mungo’s treating him with prejudice and contempt, Draco is determined to keep his baby. In his desperation, Draco approaches the wrong person and the result is disastrous. Draco is beaten up and left for dead in an alleyway. As Draco hovers between life and death, Harry Potter discovers his bruised and battered body. The Saviour doesn’t only save Draco’s life. He takes Draco back to Grimmauld Place and helps him to recover.
✨ There Was Only One Bed: The Fest (Hermione’s Nook)
Draco should probably be freaking out. He’s stranded in a frozen wilderness with no wand, no supplies, and no way home. But he isn’t freaking out, and it’s totally NOT because he has his Auror partner with him. Not even a little bit. Or maybe a little bit. But probably not. Now, if only that little cabin they found had more than one bed.
It’s OK. Love is only meant for some; Harry knows that. Besides, he wouldn’t want to risk this new, amazing friendship he has going on with Draco for anything in the world. Keeping his walls from falling down is the least he can do.
Into the Unknownby@drarrelie (G, 4,558) Prompt: “Into the Unknown” (from Frozen II) by Idina Menzel & AURORA.
It’s been echoing within him for months, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to let go. A nagging feeling in his core, telling him to say something, to do something, to go somewhere. Last night it finally happened. He did it. And it felt good; right. “I can’t be sure.” Four words, easy as that. It had been almost impossible to smother the sudden burst of joy rushing through him as that deep-seated urge rejoiced his unexpected act of rebellion. You’d think the Dark Lord’s punishment would’ve taken the exhilaration out of him, but no. Here he is, countless Crucios later, beaten and bruised, and never has the voice sounded this clear. He’s said something. He’s done something. And now he just has to go somewhere. He has no idea where, but he’s certain it will come to him. All he has to do is get out of here, then trust magic to do the rest.
Harry’s suffocating under all the expectations of the wizarding world, but he’s fascinated at Malfoy’s sudden ability to flaunt his true self to whoever cares to watch. And Harry? He might like to do something more than watch if he can ever get up the nerve.
Prologueby@aedwritesfic (T, 4,565) Prompt: “We Don’t Have to Take Our Clothes Off” by Ella Eyre.
Ten years after the war, Harry stumbles across Malfoy in a Muggle club. What could have been an awkward encounter might just be a new beginning.
Requiemby@evaeleanor (T, 1,893) Prompt: “Requiem” by Michael Patrick Kelly.
Requiem — A song of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person.
Draco Malfoy is raped and watches as his world falls apart. Harry Potter is the quiet, unassuming wizard that finally listens to him. “I’m pregnant,” Draco repeated, bitterness evident from his tone. “Five months in, so there’s not much you can do to help me, Harry. Best fuck off now. Go and help somebody else. It’s too late for me. My life is already ruined.” The last word seemed to spark something in Harry. “Your life isn’t ruined,” he answered. “I don’t believe that, Draco. I don’t believe that for a single moment.” He paused, taking a moment before he continued speaking. “I’m sorry that I didn’t reply immediately. I wasn’t judging you. Please don’t think I was. I care about you. Anything I can do to help, I will.”
After a potions accident leaves Hermione partially transformed, she and her two husbands decide to have a little fun with it. For research purposes, of course…
It’s nearly a decade after the war, plenty of time for the world to have moved on and Draco to have become friends with Harry and Hermione. But Draco wants to be more than friends, and it only takes a couple of Firewhisky-inspired dances and wine-laced kisses to find out that he’s not the only one ready to take their friendships to the next level.
Harry and Draco are driving to The Burrow on Christmas Eve when their children finally fall asleep. Listening to a soundtrack of Harry’s favourite songs, the two wizards pass an hour reminiscing about their Eighth Year at Hogwarts and remember just how they fell in love.
Draco is pregnant and exhausted after a busy day at the Apothecary while Harry is excited and and full of Christmas cheer. This is a small fic where they talk about their new baby, the Christmases of their childhoods and discover a new family tradition of their own.
Draco has been fighting the pull all day, but with only months left until his wedding to Astoria, it’s getting harder and harder to resist… This work is part of a series of connected weekly drabbles written during 2020.
A heartbroken Draco is finally cajoled into dating again by Pansy, but he gets the shock of his life when he sees who else is waiting at the restaurant.
The snow is glittering in the sun and the Eighth Years can’t resist heading out to savour it, revisions and essays be damned. Only question is, can Harry coax his roommate to join them?
“I don’t have a scheme!” Hermione ignored his protest, too busy apparently consulting with the Slytherins by way of cryptic eye contact. Daphne lifted one too-skinny eyebrow. Theo huffed a disbelieving noise which felt far more insulting than any actual insult could have. And Blaise… Well, Blaise was still actually trying to cram despite the distraction of the mystery mistletoe.
It’s Christmas, and Harry and Draco are newly engaged. But even now, Harry likes to snoop. When he finds some old pictures in Draco’s childhood bedroom, old vows of secrecy are endangered and some relationships will never be the same.
It is Christmas Eve, Draco has roped Harry into helping him break into Snape’s potions stores for an ingredient. Harry agrees because he owes Draco for all his help in potions. So invisibility cloak in hand, they head off to Snape’s stores, but things go wrong and they end up in detention on Christmas Eve.
After walking in on 18-year-old Teddy and 17-year-old James being intimate, Harry and Draco decide to tackle the situation head-on. Their solution? A sex talk over breakfast. What could go wrong?
It’s sixth year and Draco Malfoy’s life is about to change thanks to some meddlesome ghosts who show him the path he is on is not the only path for him. Between their ghoulish advice and some deep soul searching, Draco regains some of the hope he lost.
In a way it never had before, Christmas suddenly felt so entirely domestic to Draco. This likely was in direct result of the floral apron tied around his waist and the scents of laborious cooking and spice-scented candles in the air. But the feeling went even deeper than those surface signs. It was an intrinsic feeling he had of warmth and wholeness, so new and unlike anything else. A feeling which was very nearly ruined when Harry brought an unexpected guest to Christmas Eve dinner. Part 4 of Comfort in the Unexpected
It’s Christmas Day at the Potter-Malfoy house in Chelsea. Join Draco Malfoy - thirty-six and already a father of four - as he copes with Harry’s inability to let their teenage daughter grow up, their squabbling, magical twin boys and the most theatrical toddler in England. Will he ever find the five little minutes that he so desperately needs?
It’s Draco’s first Christmas living with Harry, and okay, maybe it’s a little bit “extra”, but he’s Draco sodding Malfoy and if he wants to give Harry the best Christmas ever, it’s his right as his boyfriend. So strap on your Santa hat and hang on tight, because this is going to be a bumpy and, slightly ridiculous, sleigh ride. One chapter posted each day for 25 days. Set in the That’s Life Together universe but can be read alone.
Draco should probably be freaking out. He’s stranded in a frozen wilderness with no wand, no supplies, and no way home. But he isn’t freaking out, and it’s totally NOT because he has his Auror partner with him. Not even a little bit. Or maybe a little bit. But probably not. Now, if only that little cabin they found had more than one bed.
When the whirlwind that is Harry Potter approaches him to commission a portrait, Draco knows he has to say no. Too bad the annoyingly cheerful git won’t let him. Or, how getting to know a deceased Weasley turns out to be a life-changing experience.
Arsenal are on the telly, so Harry and George settle in to enjoy the match. As they watch, Harry tells his best mate the story of what occurred on Christmas Eve, and how Draco Malfoy and he went from being friends to being something far more significant.
Harry is mortified to learn what Teddy asked Santa Claus to bring him for Christmas. Only question is, will Santa be able to deliver? The E-rated version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town.
Their kids are friends, their friends are friends, and though Harry and Draco have floated through each other’s lives for decades, it’s never been like this. Tonight, at Neville and Pansy’s Christmas party, something clicks, and things will never be the same.
Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan. That’s what Draco’s mother always used to tell him, but Merlin, who could have predicted how right she would be? A story about feisty dragons, loneliness, family, and friends — and finding love in places you least expect. A Drarry cover of the romantic comedy While You Were Sleeping.
Living with the Weasleys after the war turns out to be more challenging than Harry could ever imagine. So, when he finally finds some peace and quiet in Andromeda’s cottage, he’s not going to give it up easily. Not even if it means he’s going to have to live under the same roof as that annoying blond git. Now, if only he didn’t have to look so bloody gorgeous it might have been a little easier. How Shakespeare, a crossword and a sleeping baby can turn enemies into friends, and maybe even friends into lovers.
Albus Severus Potter had never felt quite so humiliated in his life. He could no longer deny the truth. He had been stood up for a date. Scorpius Malfoy was supposed to have been here twenty-five minutes ago, which either made him very, very late indeed or meant he was not coming… Albus Potter has finally got the date of his dreams, with fellow Ministry worker Scorpius Malfoy. But he’s late! Lets hope this Christmas tale has a happy ending.
It’s nearly a decade after the war, plenty of time for the world to have moved on and Draco to have become friends with Harry and Hermione. But Draco wants to be more than friends, and it only takes a couple of Firewhisky-inspired dances and wine-laced kisses to find out that he’s not the only one ready to take their friendships to the next level.
Castiel loves Christmas lights. Even on a freezing Christmas Eve, he won’t waste his opportunity to savor his favorite part of the holidays. What he doesn’t anticipate, however, is bonding with a stranger over his brilliant twinkling lights. Nor does he ever even hope for the comfort he ends up finding in that night and that man.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Take a sneaky look at the inner workings of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and learn about some of the fabulous products they sell. But is it the most wonderful time of year for George?
The last of seven brand new Drarry fics inspired by the seven Weasley siblings.
Lastly, we let @gildedscripture wrap up this series with a story featuring the youngest of the siblings, bamf Ginny Weasley. With all the grace she can bother (i.e. none), she takes it upon herself to guide her ignorant, peeking-out-of-the-closet fellow LGBT buddy through the intricate (and quite confusing) hoops of traditional pure-blood courting.
Your Local Lesbian’s Guide to Wooing Draco Malfoy by Ginevra Weasley (author of critically acclaimed tome Taking the Broom Out of The Closet: A Memoir and Six Signs You’re A Lesbian) is a helpful step-by-step introduction to the confusing and exciting world of courting Malfoy heirs!
Or, Harry and Ginny bond over being queer kids, and manage to successfully ask out Draco Malfoy.
This weekend, we’ll post seven brand new holiday-infused fics, each one inspired by one of the seven Weasley siblings. Each story is a stand-alone work, but together they make up the anthology we call Seven Shades of Weasley.
Over the weekend, we’ll give you 7 fics — plus an accompanying Spotify playlist containing 7 songs, one for each fic included in the collection.
We — the Seven Shades of Drarry — are a group of Drarry fanfiction writers of different backgrounds, ages, and nationalities who work together in a rare collaboration. Seven different writing styles, seven different strengths, seven different weaknesses, all united in one project, working together to create unified themed collections based around the number seven. Each theme has seven threads, each writer assigned a thread to inspire their story, and all combined to create The Seven Shades of Drarry.
