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chyanxrene · 3 years

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Sweetheart Part 2

♡ Sweetheart part 1 ♡

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

♡ Summary: Draco and Y/N were friend’s with benefits, now that Y/N was avoiding him, it was only a waiting game until he caught up with her.

♡ Warnings: Degradation, pure smut, male receiving

"Y/N have you found an outfit for the ball yet?" Her friend asked from next to her whilst she ate a slice of toast.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and then opened her eyes in realisation that she had forgotten the winter ball that was on Friday.

"Fuck, I forgot."

"We don't have time to go to Hogsmeade, you'll have to wear one of my dresses" her best friend smiled and continued eating.

Y/N nodded, spreading jam on her toast. She was trying to forget about her last encounter with Draco which had left him fuming. She was trying to avoid him, she wouldn't walk down the halls by herself— in case he caught her.

"Y/N" her friend drawled, Y/N followed her friends eye line.

"Why is he staring at you?" Her friend frowned, quickly diverting her gaze back towards Y/N.

Her eyes found his, he was mad, furious actually. His gaze was intense, he sat two tables away. Despite the large amount of students in the great hall, he was only looking at her.

His hand was tightly clenched around his fork, his knuckles whiter than his normal pale skin tone. Y/N felt uncomfortable from his staring— but she couldn't take her eyes off him.

She watched as Pansy Parkinson tapped his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. But Draco didn't flinch, he continued to stare at her in anger, watching her every movement.

Y/N gulped and excused herself from the great hall, she ran out into the corridor only to bump into someone and fall straight on her ass.

"Oh fuck."

"Shit— I'm sorry, here— let me help you up."

Y/N watched the large male hand in front of her, she hesitantly grabbed the hand. He pulled her up, maybe a little too hard as she crashed into his chest.

"Thanks Cormac."

"You're welcome Y/L/N."

There was an awkward silence between the two. Y/N knew him from a few classes but had never spoken to him like that. She knew he could be a player but that didn't alter is good looks.

"Say Y/N, you don't happen to have a date tomorrow yet? If you do that's fine but if not then perhaps I could take you."

Y/N chewed on her lip, a part of her didn't want to go with him as he was a ladies man, another part of her wanted to— as she didn't have a date yet. The ball was the last thing on her mind.

"I'm surprised you don't yet" she laughed.

Cormac chuckled and brushed his hand along her right arm. "Well, I wanted to go with you but I didn't have the balls to ask."

This was news to Y/N, she had never observed any interest from Cormac. She decided to bite the bullet and agree to going with him— besides she didn't want to look lonely.

"Sure, I'll go with you."

"Perfect!" He pulled her into a tight squeeze, she heard him take a deep inhale and then let out a sigh. He was weird— nether the less she now had a date, so she had to prepare.

Y/N said her goodbye to Cormac after an awkward hug and turned around to head to her dorm room. At the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Draco leaning against the entrance door to the great hall.

Her heart was racing, she didn't want to make eye contact with him. She hurried past him, the wind picked up his smell which travelled into her nostrils. Shivers ran down her spine, the smell of Draco was addictive but she had to be strong.

It was the day of the winter ball, Y/N didn't have much time to prepare an outfit so was left with two options, kindly offered by her friend.

"So, there's the red one with the slit— very Christmassy— also very seductive— the slit makes it easy if you want to— well you know what."

Y/N laughed at her friend's dirty mind and watched as she picked the other dress up.

"The black one is cute— it's what you would wear to your enemies funeral— just to show them up" she laughed.

Y/N thought carefully, the black was nice, slightly puffy at the bottom and long sleeves. The red was silk from head to toe, a slit running down the left leg, it was a straight dress— it would be a tight fit.

"The red."

Her friend clapped her hands excitedly and threw the dress over to her. Y/N went to get ready, she took a long hot shower. She done her hair in her favourite style and applied natural make up. She decided to go for a bold red lip, to match her dress.

"Fucking hell."

"Is it too much?" Y/N said worriedly, she looked down at her dress, ironing out the creases with her hands.

"If Cormac doesn't get you in his bed tonight, you'll definitely be in mine!"

Y/N blushed, her friend wore the black dress which complimented her skin tone nicely. She paired it with a smoky eye and nude lipgloss, they both looked good.

"Come, let's go— I have a date with Blaise and Cormac will be waiting for you" her friend said pulling them out of their shared dorm room.

"You look— lovely" Cormac smiled, his eyes went straight to her chest and then to her exposed leg. Y/N scoffed and now began regretting coming with this boy.

She thanked him, shooting him a quick smile. His hand went around her waist, holding her tightly— maybe a little too tightly. Y/N sucked it up, she hoped that she could loose him in an hour and find her friend.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked, his eyes wandered glancing at other females.

Y/N stood on his toe quickly and then retracted her foot "oh my, I'm so sorry, I'm clumsy you see."

Cormac nodded, a hint of anger on his face as he examined his shoe to see if there was any scuff marks. Once he discovered there wasn't he smiled and then went to get drinks.

Y/N stood waiting for her date, she watched as her friend was being twirled around by Blaise. They looked cute together, she couldn't help but feel jealous as she wanted to be treated the same as her friend.

Cormac was taking a while, she glanced over and saw him speaking to his friends, they kept looking over to her and then smirking. Y/N was utterly repulsed— men she thought in her head.

The air suddenly shifted, it was heavier— stuffy, Y/N's breath was caught in her throat as she found it hard to breath properly.

Everyone else continued dancing, she was the only one that was feeling this, and that's when she felt his body behind her. He wasn't touching her, she could just feel him behind her.

She took in a deep breath, and licked her lips.

"You look— beautiful" Draco breathed from behind her.

He had never spoken to her like that outside of sex. Of course he had called her beautiful many times, only when she was sucking his dick, or riding him— oh gosh.

She felt herself grow wet as memories of her and Draco clustered her mind. She had to stand her ground, she can't let him win again.

"Thank you."

"Where's your date?" He said now standing next to her, he didn't look at her, he just faced forward watching everyone dance.

"Getting drinks."

"Mmm, which one is it again?"

"None of your business" Y/N spat.

He let out a short laugh, his eyes finally meeting hers. She turned her head quickly and faced the front again.

"Where's your date?"

"I don't have one."

"That's a shame."

"Is it? Or are you secretly happy about that?" He teased, Y/N's face grew hot, did he know about her crush on him? She thought deeply thinking if she gave away any hints.

Y/N cleared her throat "oh here he comes."

Cormac walked over with two glasses of punch. He eyed Draco and then handed the drink to Y/N.

"Malfoy, everything alright?" Cormac asked, drinking some of his drink.

He hummed, watching Cormac, he looked annoyed "I'm fine, you mind if I have your drink Y/N?"

She frowned at him and shook her head "no— it's mine, get your own."

I looked at Cormac who had a worried look on his face "yeah— yeah get your own Malfoy."

Draco slapped the drink out of her hands, sending shards of glass onto the dance floor. It was too loud for anyone to hear, so no one noticed, only a Hufflepuff who quickly collected the glass.

"Draco what the fuck."

"He put something in your drink" he growled now holding onto Cormac's shirt collar.

"I did not!" Cormac shouted.

"I watched you, you and your little friends had a game going on didn't you?"

Cormac shook his head.

"Who can fuck first? Right?" Draco shouted.

Y/N had heard enough and ran off, she felt embarrassed. She knew Cormac was an ass but she didn't expect that. She wasn't upset or crying, she just wanted to go back to her dorm room.

She felt more embarrassed at the fact that Draco came to her rescue, she should've figured it out herself. Now she was beginning to get annoyed at him.

She turned down a corridor, speeding to her dorm room. Heavy footsteps trailed behind her, she was finally going to be caught by Draco Malfoy.

He tugged on her wrist and pulled her back, she swung around. His other hand pushed her head towards his and he kissed her deeply. Entering his tongue in her mouth straight away.

Y/N let out a whimper and returned the kiss. Draco backed her against the wall, her back hitting the cold stone sharply.

He pulled back, his eyes were heavy which watched his heavy breath.

His finger was raised, he pointed it at Y/N and laughed.

"You— my sweetheart— have been driving me wild."

Y/N could only gulp, his hand slapped the wall next to her head.

"Do you enjoy playing games with me?"

Y/N shook her head quickly, Draco's other hand trailed down her thigh and went underneath her dress. Brushing her inner thighs slowly.

"Answer me!"

"I—I haven't played games."

"You have, you leave me with blue balls, I haven't been able to get rid of them for nearly a week now!"

"That—that's not my fault."

A smirk fell onto his face, his hand stopped moving.

"You're right— maybe it's mine."

Y/N nodded, her underwear now sticking to her wet pussy, his finger grew closer and closer to where she wanted him most. But he didn't touch her, he was teasing her, getting her back for what she'd done to him.

"You know what I want?" He smiled, his thumb brushing her bottom lip, he smudged her red lipstick slightly.

"I want you— to wrap those pretty red lips around my cock."

Y/N moaned at his words, she just couldn't do it, she couldn't let him leave her again when she had all these feelings for him.

Y/N bit her lip and thought to herself— I guess one more time wouldn't hurt, she convinced herself.

Draco searched Y/N's eyes for an answer, then he smirked when he realised she had come to a decision.

Draco looked around and unbuttoned his trousers, he pulled them down along with his boxers. His dick was hard, the head leaking with precum.

"You missed this sweetheart?" He asked wiping the precum off his tip with the pad of his thumb and then smearing it onto Y/N's lips.

Y/N nodded quickly, her tongue darting out to taste his arousal. Draco's hand wrapped around her throat, he pulled her into a hard kiss and then let her go.

"Make me cum" he whispered against her lips.

Y/N fell to her knees, she rubbed up her hand up and down his dick. His hips bucked forward as he felt her thumb brush across his sensitive tip.

Draco's hands tangled in her hair "show me how much you missed me."

He pushed her head forward, his eyes never leaving her. She ran her hand up and down again, stroking the prominent vein on the side, her mouth opened.

Draco guided his tip first into her mouth, Y/N's lips instantly wrapped around it, swirling her tongue to taste him.

"Fuck."

He pushed her head further, forcing her to take more of his thick cock. Her mouth widened, she struggled to take in everything, so what she couldn't she pumped with her hand.

She hollowed her mouth, sucking as hard as she could. Draco groaned at this and gripped her hair harder.

Y/N choked suddenly, feeling his tip hit the back of her throat. Her mouth filled with more saliva, she looked up at Draco, he smirked and pulled her off him.

Multiple strings of her spit were still attached to his his dick from her mouth. Her eyes were watery and her mascara was now running. Draco looked at her like she was an angel.

He traced his tip along her lips and then prodded them, forcing her to open her mouth.

Y/N sucked in a breath, she knew what was coming. She held onto Draco's thighs and he thrusted hard into her mouth. He done this many times until Y/N was sobbing. Her vision was blurry and her mouth was swollen.

"Fucking— love— your— filthy— mouth" he grunted each word. Spit was falling out of Y/N's mouth onto the floor, she looked up at Draco, his head was thrown back, his mouth was parted as he continued to fuck her mouth.

He suddenly pulled out of her mouth and grabbed her forearm. He dragged her up "lift up— your dress."

Y/N quickly wiped her mouth and lifted her dress, Draco looked around again, to see if there were any onlookers. Not that that would make a difference now.

Draco held both sides of her underwear and snapped them, a stinging sensation running through Y/N's body.

He lifted her up, her legs were over his arms as he used the wall to balance his hands on.

"Fuck— I missed you" he whispered, he lined his dick to her entrance and then pushed inside of her.

Y/N's head flew back, Draco let out a strained groan as he pulled out and pushed back in again.

"So tight— you make it hard for me to last long."

She couldn't speak, she was in a total state of bliss, her eyes were screwed shut as he thrusted in and out of her. She moaned his name feeling his cock fill her up sweetly.

Draco moved at a faster pace, the angle made his tip rub against her g spot repeatedly.

Y/N was whimpering, crying his name as she felt her orgasm approach fast.

"You're mine— aren't you?"

Draco thrusted harder, lifting her up slightly higher so he could push into her deeper.

"Fuck— tell me you're mine!"

Y/N's head fell forward, they looked into each others eyes and she nodded quickly.

"Say it— I wanna hear you say it."

"I'm yours Draco."

He slowed his pace, giving Y/N short, deep, thrusts. She was close now, his head leaned in and sucked onto her neck, leaving red and purple marks behind.

He then thrusted one final time hard, which sent them both over the edge. Y/N came moaning his name, Draco let out 5 curse words in one short sentence.

His forehead leaned on hers as he tried to catch his breath. His lips kissed her forehead as he finally let her down.

Y/N pulled down her dress as Draco pulled his boxers and trousers back up. It was silent, no words were spoken between them, both were still reeling from the amazing sex they had just had.

Draco's back was turned from Y/N's, she heard him zip up his trousers "I'm not sleeping with her."

"What?"

"Don't be stupid— you know who I'm talking about."

"Right, I didn't care if you did anyway-"

"You did."

He smiled and turned around, he strolled towards Y/N, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face, pushing it behind her ear.

Y/N's eyes were watering, she didn't want to cry in front of him, but all her emotions were coming at once and she couldn't handle them all. She sucked in her tears and remained calm.

"I—I don't want to do this anymore" Y/N whispered, her head faced her feet.

Draco placed a kiss on her cheek "good because neither do I."

Y/N looked at him, she was confused at what he meant by that.

"What does that mean?"

He let out a laugh and smiled "I want you to go back to your room, burn the list of rules and then come back to my room."

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and then widened her eyes realising what he had just said.

"But—but Draco?"

Y/N was worried what everyone would think about her being with a Slytherin— let alone Draco Malfoy.

"I don't care anymore— now be a good girl and do as you're told."

"Right, okay."

Y/N went to walk off but he pulled her wrist, forcing her against his chest. His mouth found hers as he engulfed her into a wet kiss. Y/N pulled away before they got too carried away.

"See you soon— sweetheart."

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #dracosmut #smut #draco x y/n #harry potter #harrypotter #dracomalfoysmut #dracomalfoy #draco malfoy smut

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straightouttaneptune · 3 years

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Opposites attract

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Slytherin!Reader, Platonic!Blaise Zabini x reader, Draco Malfoy x Pansy Parkinson, Platonic!Draco Malfoy x reader (The reader is race-neutral!)

Warning: I think there’s a couple swear words, uhh if you’re in love with Draco you probably shouldn’t read this, there is not a single sentence in this fic where Draco and Y/N are any more than friends. Actually, Y/N will commit an act of violence against him. (Don’t do this to your friends)

Summary: Blaise notices that his best friend, Y/N is different the second he sees her again after Summer break. You are a full-fledged pure-blood Slytherin, but during Summer, you got your heart stolen by a certain muggle-born Gryffindor.

A/N: I am OBSESSED with Gryffindor x Slytherin trope, I’m so sorry I will write a reader who’s in Hufflepuff soon! Also, I love Blaise Zabini? He deserves love :/ He a true King in this fic. Oh and Y/N & Hermione are a power couple who eat men ok cool happy reading!!

—————————————————————

It was a quiet evening in the Slytherin common room. The white noise of the light rain present, but none of you could see, for the Slytherins belonged in the dungeons.

You had your head rested on the lap of Blaise Zabini, your best friend, and your legs over the lap of Draco Malfoy. You wouldn’t say he was your best friend, per se- you didn’t always like how he acted. You thought of him more like a brother, in a way. An annoying brother, no less.

But while your friends engaged in some deep conversation about whatever they talked about, your mind was elsewhere. Since last week, you’ve been lost in the curious world of a strange muggle book titled “pride and prejudice”. You picked the damned book up every time you had some spare time.

“What’s this then? Never seen it before.” You recall 2 weeks ago, laying by the old oak tree of the city park, the bushy leaves shielding you from the blinding sunlight.

“You’ve never seen a book before?” She teases, playful laughter filling the crisp summer air.

“You know what I mean! C’mon, read to me.” You look up at her, sitting down with her back pressed against the tree. Her face was covered with the red cover of the book, but you could swear that what you were seeing deserved to be drawn on canvas and presented in museums. Her golden curls looked as if they were lighting up under the sun, her soft yet strong hands curling around the spine of the book.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife-”

Blaise also had a book opened in his hand, but he was not reading- he was listening in on Draco and Pansy’s conversation. Also glancing down and seeing you smile to yourself, for whatever reason. It could have been the book, but he doubted it.

And even though this was the first day back to Hogwarts, he knew that you were very different from who you were when he waved goodbye to you before summer break.

First of all, you never read muggle books. You were the eldest child of one of the most pure bloodlines to exist. Your family were very close with the Malfoys, the Blacks, and obviously the Dark Lord. Anyone would expect you to grow up hating muggles, and... in all honesty, Blaise thought you did.

But then why didn’t you say anything few hours earlier when Granger bumped into you on the train? A witty quip about her blood, perhaps? But nothing. And why in the world did you have a Jane Austen story in your hand?

Despite the multiple questions looming over his head, Blaise had a theory. So now, he wanted to see. Test you, on how you’d react to another one of Draco’s degrading talks about “muggles” you recently seemed to take an interest to.

“God, those mud-bloods infuriate me. And what’s Dumbledore thinking, opening a class of ‘Muggle Studies?’ What a pathetic excuse for a school.” Draco said quite loudly for the whole common room to hear, looking behind him and at first-year Slytherins as if to get them to agree with him. They nod out of fear, but Blaise can see it’s poisoning their unbiased minds already.

Great. More racism. He’s never been a big fan of it.

Just when Blaise turned back around to pretend to stare at his book once more, you quickly stood up from your place in his lap, and smacked your hard-covered book over Draco’s head. The first years jump and gasp from utter and complete shock.

...Ouch. Blaise doesn’t know if he should be happy he was right about something being up with you, or stop you from killing Malfoy.

“What in the- What is your problem, Y/L/N??!” Draco stands up too and glares at you in an accusatory manner, hand flying up to the back of his head. His tall figure looms over your head, his eyes burning with confusion and rage. But you’re not afraid. Quite the opposite.

“Don’t you dare talk about muggles like that ever again, Draco. You know I’ve never liked it when you used that word.” You point your halfway closed book into his chest, the corner digging into his neatly ironed shirt.

“What? You’ve never hit me over something as little as this? What’s wrong with you, Y/L/N?” Draco questions loudly, the irritation in his voice evident. Pansy stands up as well, linking her arms with the Blond, and glaring at you up and down.

“You’ve been acting strange all day, Y/N. Blaise, say something!” All three of you looks over to Blaise, who was nonchalantly pretend reading his book, unmoving from his place on the couch.

“What? So Y/N can’t hit Malfoy with a book now? She’s done it before.” He looks up and locks eyes with Pansy, “I don’t give a fuck” written all over his face.

“That’s not the point! Why is she so angry over filthy Mudbloods?” Pansy retorts, but as soon as the last word left her lips, you raised your brows at her warningly.

“Don’t. Use. That. Word. Why does bloodline matter? We all bleed red, for Merlin’s sake!” You huff, whirling around to get yourself out of this godforesaken dungeon. Blaise gives a playful salute and trails closely behind, leaving behind the pure-blooded idiots and follows you towards the Gryffindor common room.

“Will you tell me, though? Y/N, what happened during summer?” Blaise stops you just in front of the portrait of the fat lady, and you’re forced to look at your best friend’s curious expression.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” You sighed, knowing you would have to tell your best friend if he wanted to come with you. He nods sincerely, although there is a twinkle in his eyes that lets you know he’s enjoying this.

“I fell in love with someone. A muggle-born.”You confess, your cheeks burning like a 1,000 degree flame just by admitting that.

“A muggle-born??” Blaise’s brows shot up to his hairline, his brilliantly talented imagination already making up a scene of you getting disowned by your parents.

“Wait...” his gaze glides past you and at something behind you. “Does it happen to be Granger?”

Your eyes grow wide as a plate, and you almost break your neck from how quickly you turned around. Hermione, Harry and Ron stood there, the door to the Gryffindor common room wide open.

“There was a Slytherin alert. Uhm, Fred and George. Not us.” Harry tries to explain, looking over at Ron for some assistance, but he just stays in place. Wether it’s from shock or fear, you couldn’t tell.

“You... fell in love?” Hermione looks directly into your eyes, as if everything that wasn’t you didn’t exist to her. She climbs out of the entryway, taking a few steps over towards you.

“Uh- I did. Over the summer.” Guessing you didn’t have much other choice than to admit it, you stood your ground and focused on her sharp brown eyes you’d come to adore.

“You did.” Hermione repeated, stunned from the looks of it.

“I did.”

“So did I.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

“Oh bloody hell, just admit you love each other and move on.” Ron teased from a few feet behind, comfortable now that he saw who he originally thought was a Slytherin nightmare act so awkward and giddy.

Hermione glared at him threateningly, and so Harry wordlessly pulled him and Blaise into the Gryffindor common room. Before entering, Harry almost forcefully rips off the cloak from Blaise, still skeptical of the Slytherin always hanging around Draco Malfoy.

“Right. Anyways-“

Before you could say anything, Hermione hurriedly pressed her lips against yours, her cheeks tinting rose from a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. She’d never done something like this before. She feels like she can hear her heart beating rapidly in her ears, which can’t be normal, but she thinks it feels right.

You feel like getting wrapped into a cloud of euphoria as she deepens the kiss, your hands finding their place on her cheeks. The book clatters on the crème stone floor, but neither of you pay it any mind. Luckily, not one soul is walking around the halls at this hour, everyone getting settled into each their dorms. But you don’t even think about that, for your mind is filled with her, and only her.

After pulling away, Hermione chuckles at your surprised look, mumbling a little “You’re blushing, Y/N.” Before pulling you into her chest for a hug.

You return the gesture without hesitation, grinning from ear to ear and whispering back, “So are you.”

“Come on, we’ll have butterbeer inside. Take your cloak off and hide the tie. I’ll bring my jacket.” Hermione laughs nervously, and looks back at who she swears is the most beautiful girl in the world. Never had she thought she’d get her heart stolen by a Y/L/N, even in an alternate universe, or in a dream.

But she takes your hand, and pulls you into the common room, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

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not-so-secret-wonderland · 4 years

Text

hi i need someone to talk about some shit with me because like, call me crazy but

Luna Lovegood

as half french/ greek on her father’s side

and half Japanese on her mother’s

with the lineage Luna draws from both ancient Kitsune spirits and the Oracle Pythia

no wonder she knows so many things she shouldn’t and sees things no one else can, she has her eyes opened and waiting for the truth

like the truth about her cousin Draco, how Narcissa doesn’t even care about the war, and how much better their chances would be if the Malfoy’s stood on the side of the light.

her mother always called her Myōbu after the silver fox that used to dance above her head, whispering and chasing the light

she hasn’t seen the fox since Pandora died, but she knows he’s there

Draco Malfoy

A mix of the Black and Malfoy families, both powerful in their own rights

inheriting the power of the Shadow People from his mother, sneaking around the castle and not getting caught, having to lie so much it becomes his second nature, his number one defense against Voldy Modly, because he knows what lurks in the shadows is much scarier than a troubled man

the Veela Hydra that the Malfoys have drawn from for centeries effects his every walk with beauty, arrogance, and a surprising amount of power when he’s forced into dangerous situations, or angered beyond control

he fears someone will find out what he really looks like when he gets angry, but when Harry manages to almost die and he ends up yelling at the boy until his eyes are flashing and his hair is levitating, Harry just calls him beautiful

and because his stupid boyfriend didn’t realize that all the old wizard families are connected to ancient magic, they dive headfirst into research with Luna’s help.

Harry Potter

Snakes, he should’ve known snakes would be in his past, after all surely those who can Speak existed before Riddle

the ancestors on his father’s side are notorious for their snake dealings, some of them handlers, some of them working with the healing staff of Asclepius himself

drawing from Asclepius, Medusa, and Nagas, using magic like the distant realities he never got to know isn’t enough, but he doesn’t even realize his mother drew from the Sphinxes until Luna tells him

Harry learns the languages of his ancestors and wears them, and their snake affinity, with pride

his friends get roped into the new language thing too, don’t worry

Sirius and Remus

Harry demands they fire call the two and learn more, Draco doesn’t expect to but he does

Sirius also draws from the Shadow People, as most of the Blacks do. How else could he have snuck out of azkaban? Or hidden in plain sight for so long? but the Shadows don’t have to be bad, after all everyone always goes to the shade when it gets too hot

Remus can’t remember where he drew from before the Wolf. Once the infection is in ones body, werewolves mainly draw from the moon, it’s not all bad

Harry says that’s why he’s so calm all the time, Draco hits him for being rude, but Remus laughs and says the Shadows have always worked for him

The Weasley’s

Harry should probably be less surprised because of course they inherit most of their magic from Fire Spirits

though he does remember with fear the one time he actually made Ron mad and the air around them had gotten weirdly hot

he supposes it makes a lot of sense

but even more so is the Pranking Foxes of Huehuecoyotl Mr. Weasley calls on sometimes

Fred and George pefer that magic to the fire sprites, but not everyone can be so picky

no wonder their prank shop is doing so well, Mcgonagall is going to retire the second she finds out

Blaise Zabini

Blaise rolls his eyes when Harry asks, but Draco’s glaring at him so he divulges

His mother hails from the ancient Voodoo Priestesses and the Sirens that refuse to let sailors steal their gold

How else would she lure men in and get rid of them without a trace?

apparently the only reason his father made it as long as he did was because he drew from the Nymphs

Blaise refuses to tell him any Voodoo secrets and promptly kicks them out before Harry can start begging

Pansy Parkinson

It’s no secret that she’s the best seamstress in the school, rumor has it that she makes her ball dresses by hand because it takes less time than finding someone who actually does it right

Her family goes back nearly as far and the Potter’s, only instead of snakes she got spiders

Harry suddenly gets why Ron was always so afraid of her, but the more she tells him the more it makes sense

the eldest being the Djieien, and while Pans may not be a monster she’s defiantly hidden her heart ages ago so she didn’t get killed by Death Eaters

her father gives her the gift of being able a long defendant of Anansi, which really explains how she manages to know everything about everyone, even the first years

Harry decides that’s more knowledge than he feels comfortable with and makes a note not to cross her

Cho Chang

turns out her and Cedric are literally perfect for each other because they both draw from the dragons

Cho, her given name Nà-Huì after the stories passed down from her mother’s ancestors of the kind, gentle dragon Qilin that always wanted them of their choices and implored them to think of more than one solution to a problem

Her nickname comes from her father’s linage with Chollima. he tells her every day that she is too wonderful for anyone to ever control her

but when she meets cedric who hails from the water pixies and sunflower wyverns she doesn’t feel controlled she feels free

Millicent Bulstrode

They’re embarrassed to admit they have magic from trolls

Harry pats them on the back and says he sees it, which almost gets him punched in the face until he explains

Millie is a huge hoarder, but only if it matters. They keep the tickets from the concerts their mom used to take her too, the notebooks, poetry, dresses that they’ll never wear, makeup they hate, even the little squid their mom got them first year just because it reminds them of their mom

They also refuse to throw away the ugly blanket Pansy had made of the Slythetin crew as a joke, the ‘potter sticks’ button, or anything that reminds them of their friends.

Harry reminds them that there’s nothing wrong with being selfish when all you want is happy times with your friends.

Hermione Granger

after hearing about all her friends and how they all have some cool relation to magic, she feels rather down

Luna thinks it’s quite silly

so she gathers everyone around and tells them of the Owl of Athena, rumored to the greeks as a messager but really a creature so intelligent and woven into the daily lives of people that no one would think about their magic

something has to run all the owl networks and have a constant flow of information, but that information is so sacred it’s said the owl only chooses an inheriter every hundred years

but those who are chosen become the brighter spell casters of their times

and Hermione is near tears so she throws her arms around Luna, who can really only think of how similar her friend is to the owl griffin that’s so clearly in her bloodline

there’s just so much more that could happen?????

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obsidianarchives · 5 years

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Waiting to be Found

"You’re never truly lost if someone cares enough to come find you. Lost is waiting to be found.”" -- Barbara Claypole White

Sitting quietly, snapping the rubber band he’d taken to wearing around his wrist at all times, Dean listened absentmindedly while a young guy, maybe younger than him, cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Hi, I’m Ryan and today is my first day with the group…”

Dean looked Ryan directly in the eyes. His mum had talked about one of the kids he’d gone to school with going off to Afghanistan, but he’d always imagined soldiers to be grown men. Older than him, surely. But here was this kid, talking about all the horrors of war. Dean connected to the words Ryan spoke, the constant fear and paranoia, wanting to feel optimistic, meeting people in a strange country but never trusting that they wouldn’t inform on them to the enemy. Dean knew this all too well. His war had happened in this country, but none of these guys could know that.

Chairs scraped the floor and the men began to stand up and stretch while Dean stayed rooted in place, staring off into the distance.

“Alfred? Earth to Alfred.”

Hands waving in his face snapped him back to reality.

“Oh, sorry.” Dean was brought out of his reverie by an older guy with a patchy beard.

“You were miles away mate, you sure you’re ok? Never too late to share.”

“Oh, no, thanks, Russ. Maybe next time…” Dean stood up and helped move the rest of the chairs.

“You’ve been coming to this support group for about a month and haven’t shared more than your name and where you were stationed. You know the point of this group is for all of us to support you, but we can’t do that without you trusting us and sharing.”

“No I hear you, and I will. Hearing from everyone else is really helpful. I just, it’s still...I don’t know…”

“Look, I get it, but next week you share. Alright, Alfred?” Russ clasped his shoulder and looked at him reassuringly. “I promise, it’ll help. Tell us your story. Tell us about your struggles. It’ll help. We’ll help you.”

Dean nodded, “Next week. Cheers.”

Dean knew he couldn’t share his story even if he omitted the magic and changed the location. He hadn’t actually been a soldier, he’d been a coward. He hadn’t fought, he ran and hid. Dean had thought about the past almost constantly, replaying different moments in a loop over and over in his head. Though he didn’t know what he could have done differently, he kept feeling as though he hadn’t done enough.

He knew what his classmates who were allowed back at Hogwarts had gone through, though he had spent the majority of that year on the run. Meeting Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell, who looked after him like the parents he had left behind. He remembered being too paralyzed by fear to fight the Snatchers who found them and his guilt at not helping Ted and Dirk fight them off. True, they had told him to hide, but had all those months in the D.A. not prepared him to fight? Dean had made a promise to himself, Ted, and Dirk that he wouldn’t freeze again, and after being rescued by Harry, Ron, and Hermione he had shown up to fight at Hogwarts. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been too late.

Dean, pulled on his coat as he left the community center where the meetings were held and shoved his hands deep into the pockets. His fist closed around the galleon there, and as he turned down the alleyway to Apparate home, he had an idea.

---

Blaise walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He was completely knackered, but this was not the kind of meeting you rescheduled. He saw Dean sitting alone in the corner and nodded at him as he walked up. Dean pushed a glass of firewhisky over in his direction.

“Hey bro, long time. When did you get back to London?”

“A few weeks ago,” Dean said, his eyes not meeting Blaise’s face. His voice was low, almost lifeless.

Blaise had hoped Dean would return from traveling to be the same kid he met and befriended in school. Kind and easygoing, laughing a bit too loud and relishing in all the attention he naturally received from every girl in their year. Even the most pureblood maniacs like Pansy Parkinson would stare a little too long when Dean walked into their line of sight. However, Dean still seemed withdrawn. His leg was shaking restlessly and he kept snapping an ugly ribbon against his wrist, which must be some strange Muggle fashion. Blaise had all but given up on Dean, who was never the most fashionable in the best of times, but he could never get his friend to completely give up Muggle trends. Blaise paused at that thought and took note of the anti-Muggle sentiment that laid under the surface. Desiree would be proud of him for catching that.

“So what’s up? I’m glad to hear from you man but I’ve had quite the day at work and I’m truly knackered. We miss you at the Ministry. How can I help?”

Dean looked at him, “So you remember when we started the BSU? How much fun we had, but also how we had everyone’s back?”

“Of course, I actually saw McG, er, Headmistress McGonagall a few weeks back. She said the group is still going strong.”

“That’s great. Really.” Dean smiled, and for a second Blaise recognized his old friend.

But Dean’s smile faded and he took another long drink from his glass, leaving only ice where dark brown liquid had once been. Blaise sat quietly, knowing Dean was working himself up to something and not wanting to distract him any further.

“So, since I’ve been back I’ve going to this group where Muggle soldiers talk about what happened in the war they’re fighting over in Afghanistan.”

“You didn’t.” Blaise stared anxiously. He had thought this was about Dean coming back to work at the Ministry, getting his life back on track.

“I’ve been using my dad’s name, Alfred.”

“I thought your dad’s name was Gary.”

“That’s my stepdad. My real father, the wizard, was named Alfred.”

“Oh, right, he was a writer yeah?”

Blaise remembered when Dean had found out about his dad. He had still worked at the Ministry then, changed by the war as they all had been, but still as friendly and easy-going as ever. After finding his dad’s writings, Dean had been determined to learn all he could. He started spending almost all of his time with Granger doing research, and then a lot of time alone. Blaise liked Granger but always suspected something had happened between her and Dean that coincided with Dean’s sudden resignation from the Ministry and his decision to travel for a year. Dean had told Blaise he was taking the gap year he wanted instead of the one he was forced into when Voldemort took over the Ministry, but Blaise knew better. He had kept Dean’s room in their shared flat open, waiting for him, but a year passed and then two and Dean hadn’t returned, sending the rare owl every few months with no real details. Blaise forced himself out of the memory and back into the present, focusing on what Dean was telling him.

“Yeah. So, anyway, the group helps. The Muggle war is a real disaster and no one really knows why we — Muggles, I mean — are fighting in the first place or how long it’ll last.”

Dean took a breath and finally looked at him. Blaise stared back in the quiet way that Desiree had told him people saw as cold and distant but which she and his real friends realized was him being open and non-judgmental. He wasn’t going to speak again until asked a direct question and so Dean, after a moment, kept talking.

“So anyway, the bloke who runs the group told me that talking about what I’ve gone through is the only thing that’ll help. That I’ve got to be open and honest, and well, I think he’s right. Obviously, I can’t be 100% honest with Muggles, can’t tell them the whole truth y’know? So I started thinking about who I could talk to. Seamus is my best mate and he went through hell at Hogwarts with the Carrows, but at least he was at Hogwarts...no offense.”

Blaise shook his head to signal that it was nothing, but still didn’t utter a word.

“Well, I was thinking that the last time I got to be completely honest about everything was with the BSU, and I figured a lot of us could use that right now. A group to talk to about what happened, what we went through. What do you think?”

Blaise looked hard at his friend. He thought about what it was like during that last year, distancing himself from his friends, from Desiree. Hearing the children of Death Eaters (most all in Slytherin) saying the vilest comments not just about Muggles and Muggle-borns, but the students of color as well. Whispering in case he caught them and laughing in feigned embarrassment when he did. Blaise thought about the Battle of Hogwarts and telling Draco Malfoy off before running to find Desiree badly hurt in the kitchens. Thought about Desiree now, who would wake up with nightmares and fall back asleep crying in his arms.

“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea. Let’s do it.”

To Be Continued…

#Dean Thomas #HogwartsBSU #Battle of Hogwarts #Blaise Zabini

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hamkeepsnotes · 7 years

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In The After - pt 4

Fic Summary: Recovery is perhaps the hardest part of war. (A series of one shots about the aftermath of the Second Wizarding War and what it means to get better.)

Chapter Summary: Blaise is nothing if not protective of his daughter, but sometimes he doesn’t need to be.

Characters: Blaise Zabini, Magdalena Zabini (oc), Draco Malfoy

Word Count: 2231

also on ao3

Blaise Zabini (June 17, 2007)

After Hogwarts, Blaise found himself drifting. Having been a Slytherin who stayed out of the war, most of his former friends were in Azkaban or under house arrest, and the remainder considered him a bit of a traitor. His interactions with his yearmates were reduced to the occasional letters from the Greengrass sisters, Pansy, and Draco.

For the most part, Blaise was content with this. He spent his days at his clothing store in Diagon Alley, and his evenings with his wife, an Italian witch named Maria, and his daughter. Limited interactions with the people of his youth meant they were safe, and he would do anything to keep them safe.

That was the thing – as much as Blaise liked to pretend that he was fine after the war, he lived in fear of something happening to them. That fear was what kept him from allowing Magdalena out of the Zabini manor more often than not, leaving her in the care of his mother while he and Maria were at work. (While the knowledge of what his mother was capable of was equally worrying, he knew she’d do nothing to hurt her own granddaughter.)

Unfortunately, his mother was getting on her years, and she had monthly appointments at St. Mungo’s to keep her health up and ensure she never looked her age. Usually, Maria was able to take the day off to watch Mag, but on this particularly sunny June day, she had an urgent meeting at the Ministry and a doctor’s appointment of her own in the afternoon. Which meant for the first time in Mag’s young life, she was going to be spending the day at Blaise’s shop.

He rushed around the shop, picking scissors and pins up from places where the three-year-old could easily reach. His manager, Danae, stood in the doorway of the storeroom, watching him with her eyebrows raised.

“I’ve never seen you show this much emotion at once before,” she commented drily as Blaise shut the door tightly on the tailoring room. She caught the key when he tossed it to her, and watched him lean back letting out a sigh of relief at his newly toddler-proofed shop. “You know that if she really wants to get something, she’ll find a way, right?”

Blaise shrugged. “In that case I’m making things as hard as possible for her,” he replied, standing up straight as emerald green flames roared to life in the fireplace. Maria stepped out gracefully, as always, with Mag clutching her tightly and burying her face in her mother’s shoulder.

“Sorry we’re a bit late,” Maria said, carefully placing Mag on the floor and whipping a bag off her shoulder to hand to Blaise. “I couldn’t find my ID badge.”

Blaise nodded, leaning down so Mag could run into his arms. “Take all the time you need, my love,” he said kindly, kissing the top of his daughter’s head as he lifted her up.

“You be good for Papa, you hear me?” Maria directed the question at their daughter. “I’ll see you both tonight.”

She left as quickly as she came, the smell of smoke and rose petals lingering in the air behind her. Mag leaned back to peer into her father’s face and tilted her small head.

“What are we doing today, Daddy?” she asked excitedly, blinking up at him with her nearly violet eyes.

Blaise adjusted her on his hip and headed for the front counter, where he perched his daughter on the glass countertop and opened the cash register to count the change. “Well, polpetta, I have to wait until two more employees arrive to help Ms. Danae, and then you and I are heading out to post advertisements in other shops to get ready for the school year. And then, I was thinking there might be a little girl who wants some ice cream?”

Mag gasped, pressing her chubby hands to her cheeks. “Ice cream?” she asked incredulously. Blaise grinned and nodded. He’d been told once that his grin made him look like he was a dog about to bite, but it seemed to delight Mag. The toddler clapped her hands happily, kicking her feet against the counter before she could remember that wasn’t allowed.

She started chattering happily, watching her father work as he cleaned the shelves and rearranged the jewelry display. Blaise’s eyes kept darting towards the doorway and fireplace wearily, concerned that someone with a long-held grudge against him would hear about Mag and use her against him. Maybe he should just take her home.

Ethan and Artemis arrived not long after he finished straightening the window display with Mag’s help, arguing over something that he didn’t particularly care to enquire about. With a quick wave, he scooped Mag up, put a folder of fliers into her bag, and they stepped out into the alley.

Mag stared around with wide eyes, watching the morning rush of wizards hurrying towards Gringotts. She let out a small “wow” at the sight, curling her fingers into Blaise’s shirt as she leaned over to peer in the window of the shops they passed.

Blaise smiled fondly at her, hoisting her higher on his hip, and pointing towards the tall, marble-pillared building farther up the street. “That’s Gringotts,” he said, watching the awed look in his daughter’s eyes. “We need to stop there first, so I can get some money for our ice cream.”

With practiced ease, he weaved through the crowd, answering his daughter’s quiet inquiries about the shops they passed. The goblin in the doorway of Gringotts eyed them warily, despite Mag waving at it brightly.

Entering the huge, marbled entry to Gringotts seemed to take the toddler by surprise. She was so bemused by it all, leaning back with wide eyes and staring up at the high ceilings, that she didn’t even notice when Blaise clutched her tighter, holding her closely as he hurried past a figure shrouded in a black robe.

In fact, she seemed endlessly enthralled by the whole experience, not even complaining about the dizzying ride down to the vault, the grumpiness of the goblin, or the darkness of the vaults once they arrived. Everything was taken in with a childlike wonder that Blaise wished he possessed. Seeing such things for the first time, with no knowledge of the war they’d been through, had to be incredible.

He let himself ignore the anxiety at the pit of his stomach as he watched his daughter, eventually even letting her wander along the cobbled streets herself, though he held her hand tightly at all times.

The last place he expected anything to happen was in Quality Quidditch Supplies.

He left Mag by the Holyhead Harpies merchandise, smiling at the way her small fingers trailed over the faces of the women on the team, eying the natural curls of Angelina Johnson with particular awe.

Blaise turned to speak to Mr. Flightwin, the owner of the store, about leaving coupons for quidditch robes at the counter. When he turned back, Mag had disappeared.

Panic flared in his chest as he looked around the small shop and saw no sign of her. He knew that he should have just stayed home with her. There were too many people who would hurt her to get to him, too many people who still held grudges that were a decade old. She was gone and it was his fault. She could be hurt. They could hurt her. Someone could hurt his baby girl.

With this thought in mind he darted out of the store, pulling himself to his full height to scan the street. The ball of fear that lodged itself in his throat grew with every passing second. He turned on his heel and half-ran up the street, towards where Knockturn Alley converged with Diagon. If anyone had taken Mag, that’s where they’d be headed. He was sure of it.

“Magdalena!” he yelled, shoving past a witch with a particularly tall pointy hat. “Mag?”

“Daddy!”

He whipped around at the sound of her small voice, searching through the crowd for her. Someone was holding his daughter in the doorway of Avalon Toys, clutching her to their chest as she waved for Blaise. A blind panic took over him, and he barely remembered getting from one end of the street to the other before Mag was pushed safely behind him and his wand was at the stranger’s throat.

“Don’t you dare touch my daughter ever again,” he snapped, eyes hard. He heard his daughter let out a small whimper, clutching at the legs of his pants.

The person laughed warmly, tilting their head. “It’s nice to see you have emotions besides cold indifference, Zabini,” they said.

Blaise froze, stepping back and letting his wand arm drop to his side. The few people who’d stopped to stare at the commotion hurried away, glancing at the trio as they went. Soon, Blaise was left alone with Mag and – “Malfoy,” Blaise said coolly.

Mag stepped forward a little now that the danger was past, peering between the men cautiously. There was a tense silence before Malfoy broke it with a laugh, running a hand across his perfectly styled hair.

“I must say, that is not the greeting I’d expect from you,” he chuckled, smiling kindly down at Mag. She waved timidly back, a small smile crossing her face.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Malfoy,” he apologized, bending down to lift Mag to her spot on his hip. “Our school years have left me a bit paranoid. You can understand that I never want anything to happen to my daughter.”

Malfoy nodded, smiling at the girl on Blaise’s hip. “Of course,” he replied. “My own son is four. I live in fear that something will happen to him.”

“Ah, yes, Scorpius is it? I believe Astoria mentioned in an owl.”

“Yes, he’s the light of my life,” he said, a smile that Blaise wasn’t sure he’d ever seen crossing the other man’s face. “And this is Mag, correct?”

Blaise smiled. “Yes, short for Magdalena. She’s three. This is her first time in the alley.”

“Lucky I was the one who happened upon her, then, isn’t that right, Mag?” Draco said with a thin smile. There was something haunted in his eyes. Blaise knew that things hadn’t been great for him after the war, that only the intervention of Harry Potter saved him and his mother from Azkaban and shortened his father’s sentence. A part of his heart ached for the man that he once called his friend, and the child he was raising.

Mag nodded vigorously, flashing him a dimpled smile. “Uh-huh. Daddy, Mr. Malfoy was helping me find you, only I didn’t know your name so that made it harder. And I found you! Isn’t he nice?”

“He’s very nice, tesoro,” Blaise replied, kissing the top of her curly hair. “We were friends when we went to school. Did you know that?”

Mag shook her head. “Nope,” she popped the ‘p,’ and Blaise felt his heart melting at her adorableness. If there was one thing that always broke him, it was Mag. She was the cutest thing he’d ever seen – not that he’d seen many particularly cute things.

Malfoy hummed softly. “Mag, how would you like to make a friend someday?” he asked, eyes locked on Blaise’s face. Blaise frowned. What was he getting at?

Shock crossed the little girl’s face. “A friend?” she asked excitedly, looking quickly between Blaise and Malfoy as if she was watching a particularly active quidditch match. “Who?

“My son, Scorpius, is about your age,” he continued. “I think it’d do both you and your father some good to come over some time. We have a lovely cottage in the village of Merlin’s Hill, you should bring Maria, make a day of it.” The last part was directed at Blaise, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Are you trying to get me out of the house more, Malfoy?” he asked wryly, a small smirk on his face.

“From the looks of things you need it,” Malfoy replied. “And it’s purely selfish. Tori doesn’t get out much since Scorpius was born, and he doesn’t have many friends – I’m not particularly keen on him spending time with Parkinson’s girl, for good reason. He has cousins through Daphne, but they don’t get along particularly well. Too rowdy. This would be good for him. And for Mag, too, I imagine.”

Blaise thought for a moment before shifting Mag’s weight. “Alright,” he said, holding out his hand for a handshake. “I’ll owl you to discuss the details.”

When Malfoy walked away, Blaise set Mag down, watching the man as he made his way towards Gringotts, cutting through the crowd of wizards like a knife through soft cheese. For the first time in ten years, Blaise felt like he had a friend.

Mag was tugging impatiently at the leg of his trousers, a small pout on her face. “Daddy, you promised ice cream,” she complained.

“I did,” he agreed, laughing a little and ruffling her hair, much to her dismay. “Let’s go, then.” Mag let out a small squeal of joy, tugging his hand and leading them the wrong way. He laughed and swung her around the other direction.

For the first time in years, he felt light. Happy.

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