#draco malfoy x reader arranged marriage

[miryum]

A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

Word Count: 10.3k

I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing

Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious. 

My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter. 

I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends. 

I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly. 

Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree. 

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world. 

You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you. 

Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother. 

Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect. 

For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.

Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.

I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.

We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing. 

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright. 

Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.

Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.

Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.

Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well. 

Best wishes, 

Ginny

P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours  myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable. 

***

Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.

The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated. 

For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.

But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close. 

Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms. 

The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows. 

Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’ 

No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were. 

The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”

Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.” 

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth. 

As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.

***

“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.

“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family. 

“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.

“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”

Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”

Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?” 

Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…” 

She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”

You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son. 

While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.

Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.

The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.

“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy. 

Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.

Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?

If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.

Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue. 

Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…” 

He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger. 

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.

***

Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.

In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed. 

Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.

Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates. 

You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.

You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?

While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.

It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.

With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care. 

Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.

Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.

You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.

Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.

“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him. 

You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.

As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.

You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”

He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.

You simply uttered, “okay.” 

Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.

A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.

Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.

“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.

Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour. 

“Goodnight,” you reiterated. 

Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you. 

He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?” 

It was too late now to apologise.

***

Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?” 

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 

“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.” 

Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.” 

You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”

“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”

Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”

After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”

His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”

“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”

Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”

Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.

Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”

For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”

He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”

“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.

Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.

Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him. 

Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. 

One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.

A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library. 

After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?” 

Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”

Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.

You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.

Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”

You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”

Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.

You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”

Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”

As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.

Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”

Mattheo saw red. 

He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.” 

Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm. 

Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.

Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.

You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”

Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.” 

“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied. 

Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”

“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”

Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.

After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene. 

You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.

You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up. 

After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall. 

Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him. 

You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”

Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.

You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”

Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.

***

Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”

The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read. 

Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.

“Reading,” you said simply. 

Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.

“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.

Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.

One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?” 

You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”

Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered. 

“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.

He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble. 

You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”

Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”

“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly. 

“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”

You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?” 

You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit. 

“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer." 

There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?” 

Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.

He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children. 

You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.

Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.

“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.

Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less." 

“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously. 

Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”

Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."

“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”

"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?" 

“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.

Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you. 

Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”

Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much… 

Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how. 

"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune. 

“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.

"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."

***

The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.

It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted. 

There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.

Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.

“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.

“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.

“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.

“How was the dinner?”

Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”

“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.

“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”

Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”

A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”

Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin. 

“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.” 

Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”

Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss. 

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his. 

Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”

Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”

“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”

***

The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.

“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.

Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”

“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”

“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.

Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!” 

Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”

“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.

“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”

“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid. 

“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.

Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”

“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”

“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck. 

“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes. 

“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?”  Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline. 

You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.

“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.

Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”

“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled. 

“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”

Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.

“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”

Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”

“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”

“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.

Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”

You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”

“Always.”

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #reader #x reader #tom riddle #ginny weasley #harry potter #lorenzo berkshire #bellatrix lestrange #hermione granger #pansy parkinson #shes a great aunt #draco malfoy #sirius black #remus lupin #blaise zabini #theodore nott #albus severus potter #arranged marriage #one bed trope #enemies to lovers #greek mythology #victorian au #manipulative parents #Tom isn't Mattheo's brother #hope yall like

[grimoireofhayley]

Hi! First time ever requesting anything! Any chance you could write Draco Malfoy x Reader arranged marriage? Preferably she/her pronouns P.s. loving your scream fanfic right now can’t wait for more chapters 🙏

The Betrothal

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Slow Burn, Language, Implied Smut, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Blood, Eventual Character Death, Enemies to Lovers, Forced Marriage 

Word Count: 0.8k

Summary: (Y/n) and Draco have always disliked each other; constant bickering back and forth between and during classes, nit picking about each other’s looks and interests; it only got worse when they were forced to marry. 

A/n: Thank you so much for my first ever request, I greatly appreciate that. It means the world to me. I love this prompt and I was quick to start writing it, lol. Let me know what you think!

CHAPTER I

“I will not tolerate it, Draco!” Lucius fumes, slamming his fist down on the chestnut-coloured desk. “For Merlin’s sake, you are 26 years old and are not married yet.” He scoffs, swiping his papers to the side, flaring his nostrils. “You are a pureblood.” Lucius limps around his bureau, his cane banging on the ground with each step he took, ignoring the frequent protests of his eldest and only son, Draco Malfoy. “I am old and nearly at my deathbed, I will not let this bloodline fail for the likes of you.” He snarls, taking out his handkerchief, coughing into it as copper-coloured phlegm coats the silk. 

Draco rubs the slope of his neck, rubbing at it, avoiding his father’s gaze. 

Lucius took heed at his son’s behaviour and he tsked, his now-white hair, falling at the sides.

Bringing his cane up, he hit the ground with a thud, causing a sharp sound to reiterate around the room. 

Taken aback, Draco stumbled in fear, his eyes glossing, but he wasn’t willing to cry, he wasn’t going to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him so vulnerable; his father scared him, yes, but he always had, however, his father seemed more volatile today than he was before.

“Are you listening to me, boy!?” He screeches, his face a shade of pink from anger. 

Draco nods his head, stepping back, fearing his father may hit him. 

“You WILL marry, (Y/n), and continue the bloodline. If it’s the last thing you do.” Lucius inches closer, his hand placing a firm grasp on Draco’s shoulder. His son trembled, squinting his eyes.

“Do you hear me, Draco?” 

“Y-Yes, father.” 

Lucius’ grip tightened, almost burrowing his elongated fingers into the blades of Draco’s glenohumeral joint. 

Draco winces, the pain sending a burning sensation through his arm. 

“Good.” Lucius’ lips curve upward, a cheshire smile taking ahold on his features. 

The door to the study creaks open, causing Lucius to jolt. He immediately let go of Draco and stood upright. 

“What is all the commotion?” Narcissa steps in, her long whitish-silver and black hair flowing behind her.

“Nothing, Mother. Father was just informing me about the…” Draco clears his throat, adjusting his tie, then flattens his suit, “The arrangement…” 

“Ah, how wonderful.” She clasps her hands together, delighted to hear the news, completely oblivious to what was happening beforehand. 

--

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You growled under your breath, folding your arms over one another, tapping your foot, seemingly aggravated at the news. 

“It’s going to be fine, (N/n).” Your mother smiled, putting an arm around you, hugging you close. “Draco seems like a decent betrothal.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Decent?” You laugh, amused. “He’s far from decent, momma, he’s the complete opposite.” 

“How so?” Your mother glances at you, her emerald hues glazed with curiosity. 

You frowned, seeing how her reaction was.

“Oh, it’s nothing…” You twiddled with your thumbs, “Just forget about it…” You sighed, looking down, kicking at air, not wanting to soil your mothers happiness as you got lost in your head.

You haven’t seen Draco in several years, not since the battle of Hogwarts, though, you couldn’t help but wonder how he’s been doing.

(Y/n), dear, you okay?” Your mother shakes you slightly, deterring you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..." You look away, averting your gaze.

Your mother smiles, a mischievous glimmer in her expression.

"Good because you're getting married tomorrow."

#fanfiction #story prompt #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco malfoy #harry potter #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #reader insert #draco x female reader #draco malfoy x female reader #arranged marriage

[maraudersmap123]

The Arrangement (Draco Malfoy)

Summary - Draco Malfoy is forced into an arranged marriage by his parents after the war, will he ever be able to love her or will they forever be pretending.

Warning - Mentions of sex and affairs. Draco’s an arse to begin with. Not been proofread yet.

Word count - 6,997

Reading time - 25 mins

***

Draco had always known that he would marry young, and furthermore that this marriage would be within very little of his control. It felt as though his parents had written out his betrothal before he was even born, actually, he knew this was most likely true.

A pureblood marriage was expected of him, and his parents wouldn't risk that he threw away their family name on someone not worth it. So they had written up an agreement with one of Narcissa's close friends from school before their children had even been born.

Though the L/n family were only half Slytherin's, their name and bloodline were respectable enough that this didn't matter. Y/n L/n had known Draco her entire life, though she never particularly liked him. She had actually assumed that her betrothal was to Theodore Nott, so the news had come as quite the shock.

After the war, most weddings were postponed, and very few couples were getting engaged, deciding to prioritise healing from the traumatic few years everyone had just fought through rather than tying themselves down on paper. The Malfoy family however decided to do quite the opposite. Their name had lost almost all the respect it had before the war, and though the family had avoided imprisonment, their lives had been all but destroyed in the aftermath.

They decided, alongside the L/n family who wished to help their old friends, that now would be the time to unite their two children. The L/ns had been famously neutral in the war, and the Malfoys knew that this stance would make them look good now everything was over.

"I want you to know that I don't want this" Draco whispered in her ear one evening when the families had come together to have a meal at the Malfoy home. "I don't want you"

That night set the precedent for the beginning of their marriage. They were married within 2 months of finishing their retaken last year at Hogwarts, and only a year and a half after the war ended. It was a nice wedding by all definitions, the late summer air made for a comfortable heat and the money the pair had between them ensured it was beautiful, the only fault was that they didn't love one another. The pair moved into Malfoy's manor and his parents moved into one of their many other houses. Y/n had hoped that Draco would perhaps be a bit more friendly towards her after the wedding. She had been more wrong than she could ever have known.

The house was large enough that she barely saw him. They didn't sleep in the same room, in fact, she didn't even know which room he did sleep in. She was sure this was exactly how he liked it. She knew where she wasn't wanted, but she also knew that she couldn't leave. So she simply did the best she could to be neither seen nor heard.

***

After a few months at Malfoy's manor little had changed, Draco would put on a facade when their parents would visit, only to drop it all as soon as they were left alone yet again. His attitude towards her had only gotten colder. She had quickly come to realise that before her there had been someone else, someone she was sure he still loved. And she started to accept that this was the way it was going to be. They would barely see one another and when they did he would treat her with contempt, but she could ignore it.

"Mother and father are having a Christmas ball here next week, I've told them it'll be no problem and that we'll prepare the house for it," he told her one evening over dinner, the first they had shared in months. She had looked up at him, the pair sitting on opposite ends of the very long table. Swallowing her food she nodded slowly.

"Okay" an awkward silence fell back over the table and his eyes shifted away from her. "This must be the first one they've had in years"

"I don't see how that's any of your concern" he mumbled, had the room not been dead silent she would never have heard him. This was no different to their other interactions, also awkward and cold maybe even borderline cruel.

"I was just trying to make conversation" she responded quietly.

"The house is big enough that we don't have to suffer through unnecessary conversation" she knew that he wanted nothing more than for her to disappear into the walls and never show herself again, and she found herself wishing she could do so.

The week before the ball passed like every other. She met her friends the day before, putting on a brave face and pretending that her life was going well. Nobody knew that she was feeling more hopeless than she ever had, which said a lot for a survivor of a war. She had felt the wards around the manor shift almost every night that week, and could only assume that her husband was seeking out the love of another woman. Or at least she hoped he was the one seeking it out and that this woman wasn't in her house.

On the day of the party, she pushed the thought of the affair to the back of her mind, busying herself with getting the house ready for what she expected was a big night. The house-elves had been doing most of the work through the week however she felt it necessary to complete the finishing touches herself, giving the house-elves the day off.

"What are you doing through here" the familiar voice of Draco rung through the kitchen, her head spinning to look towards the door where he was standing. She noticed he was only in a towel, his hair dripping wet.

"I'm just getting the last bits and pieces ready for tonight," she told him with an awkward smile. "the ballroom is already prepared, and the food, so there's just a few things left to do"

"Why don't you have the house-elves do it, you need to get ready," he told her as he moved around her and towards the sink.

"Well they've been working very hard this week, I thought I'd give them a day off" his head snapped towards her when he heard her explanation

"Sorry what" he snapped, she knew straight away that he wasn't happy with her decision. "You're telling me that you've dismissed our house elves on the day of our first function not only since the war but also as a couple"

"They were tired, they've been working all week" she repeated, trying to have him see sense.

"That's what they are here for, it's their job. Call them back and have them get the last bits and pieces ready" he told her before once again turning his back on her.

"It's really no problem, I'll be done in no time and I really think they need the -"

"I told you to call them back, they are my house-elves, or have you forgotten" his voice rose drastically as he clearly grew frustrated with the woman in front of him.

"They are my house-elves as well. Because this is also my home, or have you forgotten" she responded quickly. Her voice was almost as cold as his for the first time since they had married.

"This will never be your house, not as long as you're taking the place of the woman I love"

A stunned silence fell over the room as she worked out what she could possibly say to rebut his words, but no matter how much she thought there was nothing she could come up with. He eventually scoffed before further making his way out of the room.

"Go and get ready, the guests will start arriving in a few hours and I don't need them to see you doing house-elf work"

***

The ball had begun. It had been around an hour since the first guests arrived, and now almost everyone invited was in the manor. Their parents had been some of the first to arrive, their mothers gushing over how beautiful and happy the new couple looked. The entire situation made Y/n want to be sick. The food was yet to be served, so she busied herself with her friends and as much wine as she could drink while remaining classy, wanting to stay as far away from her husband and their argument as she could.

"Is everything okay Y/n," her close friend from school Eloise asked as they stood in the entry hall surrounded by a few other friends, the sound of the ballroom music muffled by the wall that separated them from the busy room.

"Ye of course why wouldn't it be"

“You just seem a bit off is all” their other friend Anna stated with furrowed brows.

"I'm fine honestly, it's just been a stressful day, having our first ball and everything" she assured them and the small group just gave her a small smile. "Anyway, I'd better be getting back to the ballroom, Draco will be looking for me"

She stood up and made her way back through the entrance hall and towards the ballroom, assuming that her friends weren't following them when she heard their voices growing distant.

as she entered the room she spied her husband talking to a young woman at one of the faraway tables. She was a beautiful girl, and Y/n realised that she actually recognised her. It was Astoria Greengrass, the younger sister of Daphne Greengrass. All throughout school Astoria has been undeniably in love with Draco and everyone knew it. Though at the time he always turned her down, claiming she was too young, something had obviously changed now that he was 20 and she was 18. Perhaps it had started during his last year at school, now she thought about it she could remember the pair being together quite regularly in those last few months.

Draco's eyes finally landed on his wife, his expression not changing at all when his eyes met her own which were already watching him. He quickly turned back to the younger witch and Y/n just sighed, turning the find someone to talk to. Within only a few seconds of walking around the hall she was stopped by Narcissa, who it seemed had watched the interaction between her son, his wife, and his mistress.

"You truly do look lovely this evening darling," Narcissa said with a smile "such a flattering dress"

"Thank you Mrs Malfoy, how is your evening going," she asked politely, tucking a fallen piece of hair behind her ear as Narcissa began to talk.

"- and please, call me Narcissa, we are family after all" she only caught the end part of her mother-in-law's response, having been distracted by the eyes that she could feel boring into her back.

"Of course, Narcissa" the older woman looked down at her with a sad look in her eyes, and she was sure that the witch knew everything that was going on in their marriage, even if she had never been told.

"We're happy to have you in our family Y/n. I know that Draco can be challenging at times, and I know that we haven't exactly set you up for success. But I want you to know that Lucius and I, well we are happy to have you in this family, and one day he will be too" she said quietly, ensuring that nobody could hear. The younger woman simply nodded in appreciation, though she didn't believe it.

She felt a hand press against her shoulder and someone stepping into place beside her, their arm wrapping around her waist. She knew it was Draco almost instantaneously.

"How are you enjoying the party mother" His voice sounded different when he was talking to his mum, it sounded nice. She just wished he could talk to her like that.

"Very well, thank you Draco. I was just talking to your wife about how beautiful she looks tonight, doesn't she just" maybe she had been imagining it, but Y/n could have sworn that Narcissa had put emphasis on the word wife. It seemed Draco had heard it too as he straightened up at the word.

"Of course mother" just as the words slipped past his lips, their first dance song started. Narcissa began to smile and expressed that she found the song beautiful and that she was glad the pair had chosen it. "Dance with me"

The pair made their way to the dance floor which was littered with many couples who were beginning to slow dance, her parents among them. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hand's restings on the small of her back. While hers wrapped around his neck. They stared at one another for just a second before she looked down at his dark green patterned tie.

They didn't say a word for what felt like forever, but he pulled her in ever so slightly closer, her body being pressed against his own.

"Is that her?" she whispered, "Astoria Greengrass, is she the one that you love"

"Ye, ye she is" he answered just as quietly, she finally looked back up at him and for the first time since they had married over three months ago, she could see some guilt in his eyes for the way in which he was treating her. She just gave him a small smile, having very little to actually say to the man.

"I'm sorry you aren't married to her instead, I know you wish you were" he never responded, their most civil conversation to date ending.

The night carried on with very little interaction between the two, and eventually people started to leave. As the house found itself more and more empty, Y/n allowed herself to escape to the kitchen. Pouring herself a particularly large glass of red wine she settled down at the kitchen island, taking a gulp and leaning back in the chair.

"Well if it isn't Y/n L/n" the voice of Roger Davies drifted across the large kitchen. She turned her head slowly to look at the tall man leaning against the door frame, looking at her with a small smile. "Or should I say Y/n Malfoy"

"Please don't" she laughed as the boy she was once very well acquainted with walked towards her, sitting next to her and pouring his own glass from the bottle.

"Really, trouble in paradise already?" he asked, placing his glass down on the table after taking a drink. The couple had dated briefly after he left school and she was about to go into her 6th year. They had been friends for years due to being in the same house, but it wasn't until they went on holiday together that things had progressed. He ended things when she went back to school, telling her she was too young. Apparently, she and Astoria had a lot more in common than just Draco Malfoy.

"There was no paradise for there to be trouble in to begin with," she told him with a small smile, to which he only nodded in understanding. He was after all also a pureblood, and though it may have been the Slytherins that had the reputation regarding arranged marriages, the pureblood Ravenclaws certainly knew what it was like. The majority of them had also been subjected to them after all.

"Does it get better?" she asked quietly

"Sort of," he told her taking another drink from his glass. Roger had married less than a year after the pair broke things off, at the time it had broken her heart.

"He's seeing someone else, says he loves her," she said with very little emotion behind her voice.

"I was seeing someone else after I first got married. Now it's Margot seeing someone" he told her in a similar tone. He finally allowed his eyes to roam around the room, a small smile gracing his face. "You've got a lovely house"

"Thank you." the conversation went quiet for a moment and she felt his eyes on the side of her face "Would you do it again, see someone else" she turned to look at him and he held her eyes. He had always been a very attractive man, but still the few years they hadn't seen one another had done him good. He was taller and his shoulders broader. Before she knew what was going on he had placed his lips upon her own, his hands framing her face. She kissed back happily, desperate for somebody to love her again.

"I would do it again" he whispered into her mouth before kissing her again.

***

Though it seemed impossible after the ball Y/n had seen even less of Draco than before. They had shared a short kiss on New Year as they were with many of their friends and family and it would look suspicious if they never. However, since that night she had barely seen him. She had spent more nights at rogers in the new year than she had her own, and she was sure her presence at Malfoy manor wasn't missed. She also hadn't seen Roger's wife the entire time. He told her that much like them she was in the arms of another man, in another house.

"I missed you" he whispered into the air one night. She was lying in his arms, playing with his fingers, as they caught their breaths. She pulled the blanket up over her naked body and he pulled her into him, rubbing his hand over her shoulder blades.

"I missed you to rog," she told him. They had been doing this for a few months now, and though it was everything she had once been so adamantly against she was happy. The April sun had set, and she realised that they had been at his house for well over 24 hours.

"I'd better get going, Draco will realise I'm not home and start wondering," she told the older boy with a sad smile.

"Does he not know?" he asked, placing his hands on the side of his head and watching her as she pulled herself from the bed.

"I mean I'm sure he will have assumed," she told him "but no I've not explicitly told him"

"Have you two been together yet?" he said without catching her eyes.

"No, and we've only kissed 2 times," she told him

"I do hope that one day things are better for us," he told her and she just gave him a small sad "I just wish we'd been lucky enough that they put us together"

"Me too Roger, me too" within a few minutes she had flooed from his house straight into her own, making her way from the living room to the kitchen and jumping slightly when she saw the back of Draco facing the fridge.

"Draco," she said quietly as she entered the room, trying not to startle him. He turned around quickly, his eyes roaming over her as he realised it was just her.

"Y/n" he mumbled, turning back around to the fridge and pulling out the bowl of salad she had prepared a few days prior and set it down on the kitchen island, pulling out the chair and starting to eat.

"How's your day been," she asked, stepping further into the room and leaning against the counter across from him.

"Alright, I'm thinking about getting a job at the ministry. Had an interview today" he told her. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and he just nodded "Ye I'm starting to get a bit bored around here"

"That's understandable. How do you think it went" she asked him

"Alright, don't know if I'll get it though, given my family's history" he responded, putting a forkful of the salad into his mouth.

"I'm sure if the interview went well they'll give you the job" he looked up at her after she finished talking.

"Where have you been off to most nights the last couple of months?" he asked her after a few moments. She stopped the shock from showing on her face and decided to pour herself a glass of water.

"Just been visiting a friend," she told him nonchalantly

"A friend?" he asked her with raised eyebrows, seeing through her lie,

"I'm not doing anything that you aren't," she told him simply

"Who is he," he asked, his tone indicating that he couldn't care less what the answer was, but Y/n suspected from his facial expressions that this wasn't as true as he likely wished it was.

"Roger Davies"

"I remember when you two went out in school. Isn't he married" he asked and Y/n scoffed at his response.

"Aren't we married Draco" he just shrugged his shoulders.

And things continued like that for months. She continued seeing Roger, and he continued seeing Astoria. They would see one another in the halls or the kitchen and sometimes he would be civil with her and other times he would fight with her. She never knew which it would be and after a certain amount of time, she decided that he was likely taking the frustrations he felt towards Astoria out on her. Because it would now be far too easy for Astoria to leave him, whereas she simply couldn't.

It was coming up to a year since they had gotten married. And though they likely would have done very little to celebrate the date, their parents had invited them out for a dinner at one of the restaurants in wizarding London. They of course had accepted the offer, knowing that neither of their parents would allow them not to go.

It was the middle of the night a few weeks before their anniversary when she awoke. She had a nightmare, one very similar to those she had directly after the war and decided she needed a glass of cold water. Getting up from her bed she pulled a jumper over herself and made her way out of the room and down the hall. The kitchen was expectantly empty and she thanked merlin for it, she couldn't deal with Draco's moods at the moment.

Pouring herself a glass and adding a few bits of ice she sat down at the island that was starting to be the busiest part of the house and had a sip, resting her head on her hand. She hadn't been sitting down for even a minute when she heard feet padding down the stairs, it only took her a second to realise that it wasn't just Draco's feet.

Before she could escape the kitchen door opened and in walked her husband and his mistress, into her house. She stared at the pair in disbelief and Draco looked back, clearly not pleased at getting caught. The fire was on the other side of the kitchen from them, and only a few feet away from where she was sitting. Based on Astoria's eyes regularly shooting behind her to look at the fireplace she could only assume that this is what they were here for, either he was saying goodbye before she flooed home, or he was joining her.

The awkward tension in the room never faltered, and after a moment of everyone just looking at one another she just let out a dry laugh.

"If you want to use our fireplace go right ahead," she said, picking up her glass and once again taking a sip "don't let his wife stop you"

"Y/n don't" Draco warned in a low voice, Astoria now doing everything in her power to avoid her eye as she quickly made her way over to the fireplace in question.

"Can I ask you a question Astoria?" she asked her, and though the question was to be cold and everyone knew it, her voice held an eerily neutral tone.

"I guess" the younger girl answered awkwardly, Draco by this point was glaring daggers into his wife.

"What do you get out of fucking a married man, I mean you're 18 years old, single, and could have almost anyone you want. I know I do it because I'm stuck in a marriage I never wanted, and so is he. Neither of us really have much of a choice when it comes to the affair thing. But you, why do you do it?" she asked, tilting her head as she studied the girl in front of her. It was clear she was uncomfortable, but who wouldn't be. "I'd never have dreamt of getting involved in all this shit when I was 18"

Whether or not Astoria responded or not was outwith her knowledge, the next thing she knew Draco's fist had come down hard on the counter as he stood in front of her, the kitchen now holding only the two of them once more. She had never seen him look so angry.

"What the fuck was that" he demanded, and she decided she would actually rather he was yelling at her. Because this tone was much worse than any volume his voice could reach.

"I can't deal with you like this right now Draco, we'll talk about it in the morning. Or whenever we next happen to bump into one another in the halls" she responded simply and his jaw dropped at her response.

"Who do you think you are," he asked her once again, his voice only getting angrier.

"I think I'm your wife," she told him coldly "and I think your wife deserves to get a glass of water in her house and not have to bump into the 18-year-old mistress in the kitchen who just got done fucking her husband"

"I had sex with my ex-girlfriend in my house" he roared, obviously losing his patience with her. She didn't know when but at some point she watched the glass falling from the table and shatter beside them "the same way you fuck your ex-boyfriend in-"

"In his house, never this one. I've never had anyone in this house because I at least respect you enough for that" she told him, finally standing up and looking at him face on.

"I think you need to remember that this is a marriage of convenience. I have never and will never love you, how could I when I have Astoria waiting for me. So maybe you need to get used to the fact that she's around because she always will be. As long as you're in this house, she will be too"

"Trust me Draco, I hate and resent you more than you ever could me. Because I went into this, though just as heartbroken as you were, with an ounce of hope that maybe we could make this work in some way. Only you made it clear from day one that you would do everything in your power to make each day of my life worse than the one before. Well, I hope you relish the fact that you have done just that" he stared at her for a few moments before turning and leaving the room.

She sighed as a tear fell down her face. She hated him, everything about him. And deep down she felt a bit of pity for Astoria for having to put up with it. She looked down at the million pieces of broken glass on the cold floor, more tears started falling and for a reason she couldn't quite explain they didn't stop. Kneeling down to start picking up the glass she heard a house-elf rushing over to her and starting to clean up the mess.

"I'm sorry, we just had a bit of an argument is all. I'm sorry if we woke you" she babbled, a soft sob escaping her mouth as she again went to pick up more of the glass.

"It's alright miss, I'll clean it up" the small elf's hands covered hers before gently pushing them away from the sharp pieces. She knelt back on her feet, her face falling into her hands as she attempted to calm her breathing and stop crying.

"Thank you Veeney, but how about you go to bed. I'll deal with it" Draco's voice drifted quietly from the door once again.

"Yes master"

before she could get herself away from him he knelt down beside her and pulled her into his chest, placing his hand on the back of her head as he tried to calm her down. She assumed he had magicked away the broken glass because when she placed her hand firmly on the floor she didn't feel anything sharp cutting her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," he whispered in her ear and she just decided not to respond, not trusting her voice and already being embarrassed enough that he saw her in such a state. His hand ran gently down over her head, mumbling apologies into the awkward air.

"I'm going to stay with roger for a bit, I can't be in this house anymore," she told him after a few minutes and he just nodded. She pulled away from him and did the best she could to avoid his eyes, making her way quickly over to the fireplace and leaving him kneeling on their kitchen floor.

***

She had stayed away from the manor for almost a whole week. It wasn't until she remembered their anniversary, and consequential anniversary dinner that she realised she would have to go back. Though she was sure he wouldn't care if she missed the day, she knew for certain that her parents would.

"Hello Veeney, would you be able to inform Draco that I'm back?" she asked as she stepped out of the fireplace, brushing her hands over her trousers to rid them of any dust

"Of course ma'am"

She had started getting ready for the evening as soon as she had entered her room, locking it quickly behind her to ensure she wasn't bothered. She hadn't wanted to come back at all, and she knew that if she had her way she would never enter the dreaded house ever again. But that wasn't ever going to be an option. She had the chance to reject that future a year ago today and failed to do so, that was just something she was going to have to accept.

After finishing getting ready she finally braced herself and made her way out of the room, making sure her bag had everything she needed in it and that her hair looked okay. Carefully walking down the stairs in her heels she spied Draco standing waiting in the foyer. He turned to look at her when he heard her approaching, and though she never noticed his expression his face lit up ever so slightly when he lay eyes on her. Deep down he had started to feel ever so slightly lonely with her not in the house. He had grown used to hearing her in the halls or bumping into her in the kitchen.

"How are you," he asked with as much kindness in his voice as he could muster. He had been feeling far more guilty than he ever would have expected when she was gone, so much so that he had gone as far as telling Astoria they had to take a break.

"I'm fine, how are you?" she said quietly once she reached the bottom of the stairs, her voice strained.

"Alright. We should get going, we are meeting them at the restaurant and the table is reserved for half an hour's time" he told her and she just nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile. She could tell her was trying to be nice to her, at least in comparison to what he used to treat her like.

The dinner passed relatively painlessly, mostly occupied with small talk and pleasantries. Draco's father asked around halfway through the meal whether the two had started thinking about kids. Both had been shocked by the question. Y/n hadn't known that it would be expected of them so soon, hoping they'd have a few years more before having to worry about that. But apparently, she'd been wrong.

"We've decided we're going to take things slow, we are only 21" Draco answered for them, having her hand a small squeeze on the table. He had taken her hand almost as soon as they had sat down, and had barely let go since.

"It's important of course that you see the reason behind this union, and that you do your best to prioritise that purpose" Lucius continued on, earning a warning glance from his wife.

"That's enough, they are still young they have time" Narcissa stated with a smile towards her Daughter-in-law

"I have to say I agree with Lucius" her dad's voice interrupted, her mother looking down clearly wishing to stay out of it all.

"Father please, can't we talk about something else," Y/n said, trying to change the conversation. She was sure that the parents hadn't thought for a second that the married couple hadn't even had sex yet, let alone considered having kids.

"It really is important that the pair of continue our blood-lines, what a waste it would be if you were unable to do so" his father continued

"We have decided that we are going to wait, it may not be much of a concern for you guys but we would like to have a healthy marriage before we introduce any children into the mess that we've been thrown into" Draco interrupted the conversation, his mother looking at him with a sad look in his eyes. She looked over at her husband, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the interaction. It was possibly the last thing she had expected to be said, especially by them.

"I'm sure they are able to make this decision for themselves, they will know what's best," her mother said with a gentle tone, giving her daughter a smile.

The rest of the meal went by relatively fast, Mr Malfoy clearly doing his best to ignore his son's outburst. By the end of the dinner, they were wishing their parents well and exiting the restaurant. It had grown dark outside, the streets being far emptier than they had been when they entered. Music could be heard playing from one of the bars behind them and a slight wind blew over the street.

To her surprise, he slipped his arms out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, holding her hand in his own.

"They can't see us Draco" she reminded him as they rounded a corner, Gringotts displaying itself a few feet ahead. "I'd like to talk to you when we get in" She didn't know what to say, so she simply nodded her head in agreement.

Within 15 minutes they were back in their kitchen, and she slipped the jacket off and lay it on the kitchen counter. Exiting the room she made her way towards the living room, and sat herself down on one of the couches, assuming Draco was following her. It was funny, she had lived in this house for a year now and had been in the living room no more than 7 times. Her assumption was correct when a few seconds later Draco entered the room, closing the door behind him and moving over to sit beside her.

"I'd like to apologise again for what I said that night in the kitchen, I was angry and wanted to hurt your feelings. It was unacceptable" he started and she just nodded her head in acknowledgement "And I want to apologise for all of the other times over the last year were I've treated you as though you don't belong here, or that you aren't welcome in the family"

"It's okay Draco, it's a complicated situation and I'm sure many men would react worse than you have" she assured him, providing him with a small smile that he didn't return "I'm sorry for talking to Astoria in the way that I did, I understand now that she loves you just the same as you love her and that this has nothing really to do with me, I'm just an unfortunate participant. It is your life at the end of the day, and if she makes you happier then I'm okay with her being here"

The room fell silent for a moment before she decided to once again continue.

"I know that we would be going against our parent's wishes and that we would possibly be disowned for doing so, but if you want a divorce Draco, I'd be willing to give you one" she whispered, a tear threatening to leave her eye at just the thought of how humiliating such a situation would be for them both "or I could move out and live with rog in his hou-"

"I don't want a divorce," he told her simply, she let out a small 'oh' in surprise

"Is that not what you want to talk about?" she asked him, confusion laced in her voice

"No, it's not. I think we both know that a divorce would essentially ruin us. Not to mention our families. Of course, if it's what you want then I won't stop you" he said and she nodded her head in agreement. As much as she wished it was possible for them to just divorce she knew they couldn't, not really.

"Okay, so what's wrong?" she asked, crossing her legs.

"I want us to give this marriage an actual shot," he said and she couldn't help her jaw falling open in shock "I've ended things with Astoria. I never really gave us the chance to work, and who knows maybe we could."

"Draco-"

"It's not far fetched that it could one day. Mum and dad grew to love one another, so why can't we if we just try our best. This house has been pretty cold this last year, and I don't want that for the rest of our lives" he explained before she could shoot him down and she smiled at him, nodding her head.

"Ye, I think that's a good idea. I don't see the harm in trying, and we never did try"

"I missed you when you weren't here," he told her gently "truly I did, this house feels empty without you in it"

10 Years Later

"Scorpius you need to put your toys back in the box once you're done with them, your dad has already told you," She said as she entered the living room, looking around at the mess on the floor as her small son sat on the couch watching a film.

"Mummy, I know" he mumbled, his eyes trained on the muggle TV.

"How about we clean them up together before daddy gets home, I don't think he'd be too happy to see such a mess two days in a row" the 5-year-old seemed to ponder his mum's words as he looked up at her, eventually nodding his head and making his way onto the floor to start putting his toys into their box.

"When are we next going to granny and grandad's," he asked when she knelt down next to him, helping him clean up.

"This weekend baby, we are going to tell them that you're going to be a big brother remember. Both your Granny's and Grandad's will be there, and all of our friends too. All your favourite people who don't know yet" he started giggling when he remembered and she smiled down at him, messing up his hair with her free hand.

"What's so funny little man" a voice came from the doorway, and both turned around to look at the tall man leaning against the door.

"Granny doesn't know about mummies baby" he giggled again "It's a secret" Draco chuckled slightly at his son's response, finding enjoyment in the odd things that children found funny.

"She will soon buddy, but ye right now it's a secret," he told the little boy, entering the room fully, placing his briefcase on the coffee table, and sitting down on the couch closest to his family.

"How was your day darling?" she asked the older Malfoy heir, patting his knee gently before turning and putting the last of the toys away.

"Oh alright, things are pretty busy with the quidditch world cup in a few weeks. Did I tell you that Marietta Edgecombe is getting married?" he responded, offering his hand to help her up.

"I'm not sure, either you did or maybe it was Eloise or Anna. They were very envious of her" she told him, sitting down next to him and smiling when their son climbed up into his father's lap.

"And what have you been up to today bud" his attention turned to the little boy in his lap who was clearly trying to get his attention.

"I helped mummy make cookies for Veeney, because she said Veeney was working hard last week because of our party" he rambled, shuffling about as Draco smiled at him, brushing a piece of hair out of his eyes.

"That's right, Veeney has been very busy. Well done for making her cookies I'm sure she'll really appreciate them" he praised him, and seemingly happy with the interaction Scorpius jumped out of his father's hold and ran out of the door, presumably to get the cookies to show him.

"How is he still so energetic" he laughed and she let out a tired sigh

"Tell me about it" he pressed a kiss to her nose before quickly following it up with a longer one to her lips.

"daddy stop that, leave her alone" the horrified voice of Scorpius rang through the room as he ran back in, both adults falling into laughter as they looked at their son who stood disgusted at their love.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x reader #arranged marriage #arranged marriage au #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #marauders era #wizarding world #hp books #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #marauders #golden trio era #slytherin #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #love #hermione granger #ron weasley #post wizarding war #wizarding schools #second wizarding war #death eaters #voldemort #lucious malfoy #narcissa malfoy

[iliveonteaandbooks]

please help

guys...

im looking for a draco malfoy x reader arranged marriage series

i cannot remember the name

but i do remember the reader loves plants😊

i believe it's also a slow burn

please help me find it 🙏

thank you!❤️

#draco malfoy #x reader #slow burn #arranged marriage #harry potter #tom felton #draco malfoy x reader #y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #help #series #post hogwarts

[ldrfanatic]

two worlds collided

theodore nott x fem!malfoy!ravenclaw!reader

a.n. this is quickly becoming a theo obsession blog BUT I am open to requests for others

love theo in this piece.

to be added to my theo nott taglist just comment on one of my theo nott posts :)

synopsis - you're draco's sister but you're a ravenclaw. your father shunned you because he thought that voldemort wouldn't want you but when Nott sr is trying to find theodore a bride your father takes this as the perfect opportunity. over time you grow to genuinely care for one another.

warning - cursing, lucius malfoy is a prick, hitting, borderline verbal abuse, arranged marriage

accompanying song - never tear us apart (bishop briggs)

nav slytherin boys

"Father is asking for you."

Shock washed over you and you wondered if you submerged yourself into your cloud-like bed if Lucius would just forget about it. After carefully weighing your options, it seemed rather unlikely. You threw your navy covers to the side and shuffled awkwardly to the main dining hall where your mother, father, and older brother Draco were waiting.

Your eyes fell onto a rather scary looking man and another handsome figure who you recognized as Theodore Nott, one of Draco's friends.

"Daughter." The warm velvet tones of Narcissa Malfoy filled the air. After you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, Draco and Lucius had shunned you. Narcissa had been the only person in the entire family still kind to you. Well, she and your estranged aunt Andromeda who you'd been secretly exchanging letters since third year.

"Now that the Dark Lord has gained strength, it is imperative that we maintain close connections within the Sacred 28." Lucius approached you, looking rather unhinged, and placed a large hand on your shoulder. There was a malicious look in his eyes that made the entire interaction all the more unnerving. "Once the Dark Lord begins his plans, he'll need people he can trust to continue the most important of magical bloodlines."

Your father took you by the shoulders and moved you to stand in front of Theodore and the mystery man at his side.

"This is Theodore Nott Sr. and his son, who I presume you know from school."

Nott Sr. glanced to the side at Theodore who snapped out of a sort of trance. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"Y/n."

You smiled but didn't say anything, waiting in silence for your father to elaborate. He and Nott Sr. had clearly formed some sort of plan. "You and his son are to be married."

"What?!" Your body whipped around of its own accord and you felt rage explode over your body. "You haven't spoken to me in years and suddenly you expect me to marry this man without even asking me if I wish to be married to him or anyone for that matter?!"

Lucius' hand came down suddenly. A loud 'whack' resounded in the room as the back of his palm made contact with your cheek. "You ungrateful little brat." He straightened his cloak and took what you supposed was meant to be a calming breath. "Draco noticed the way that you stared at the Nott boy in school. You ought to be more appreciative that I didn't choose that awful Pucey boy although he was more than willing."

Though you couldn't see, Theodore's nose turned up in disgust at the mention of Adrian Pucey. He'd taken a liking to you, completely undeterred by the elder Malfoy's numerous threats to stay away from his younger sister. Draco might've been appalled that you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, but that didn't mean that he was gonna let that slimey tosser terrorize you.

Your gaze stayed on the floor for a few moments before you turned back around, muttering a small apology to Theodore and his father. Overall, Theo was quite handsome and you had stared at him more than a few times. He really was quite handsome.

Nott Sr. studied you for a few moments then turned to Theodore expectantly. "Why don't the two of you take a stroll and become acquainted while Lucius and I finish up the particulars." It was phrased like a question, but in truth he wasn't asking. The air was silent as you walked out of the room the brunette boy following diligently.

The cool air nipped at your exposed skin as the heavy oak door slammed shut behind you. It was always cold and dark in the area surrounding Malfoy Manor.

"I'm sorry Theodore."

"Theo."

You stared at Theodore like a fish out of water waiting for words of any intelligence to come to you. Finally, you stuttered out an ignorant 'Huh?'.

"Call me Theo."

Your heart beat loudly in you ears for a few moments. "Oh-kay," Theo began to mosey into the Manor gardens with you hot on his heels. He was quite tall and due to the length of his legs, every one step he took was nearly three of yours. "So Theo. I am sorry you got dragged into this."

"That's alright fiancée." Theo teased you with a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees. For a moment you felt as though you could almost forget that the both of you were being forced into this.

"Still. I know your reputation. I only ask that you keep your conquests separate from our entanglement."

An indescribable akin to hurt flashed in the eyes of the boy before you. As well as something you didn't quite recognize.

"My reputation?" You spluttered at him for a few moments once again making a fool of yourself in front of Theodore Nott.

"Theo I didn't mean to--"

"Whatever." He turned away from you and stalked angrily back towards the Manor, calling over his shoulder. "And it's Theodore."

The rest of the break passed by pretty miserably, as expected. You and Theodore had gone on a few dates, as demanded by both your father and Nott Sr. since the pair of you were courting now, but they were long and excruciating with little to no conversation.

Despite a summer that seemed as though it would never end, September finally arrived.

You were boarding the train with Theodore and Draco as your parents watched on. They'd been keeping an extra close eye on the pair of you. In all honesty, you and Theodore hadn't grown any closer in your courtship than you'd been as distant acquaintances the year prior. If anything, the walk in the garden at the start of your relationship had forced you further apart.

And though you'd pretended you didn't care, seeing Theodore with other girls was never something you'd enjoyed. Now, knowing that he'd be your husband sooner rather than later, the thought of Theo running around with some daft blonde Slytherin made your heart sink to your stomach.

Yet, as the year progressed, you and the rest of Hogwarts were unexpectedly surprised by Theo. Before you knew it, the first snowfall graced Hogwarts in November, and Theodore hadn't had any flings with any girls. He was even turning down girls that had been brave enough to approach him and make the first move.

Without your parents to keep the two of you tightly bound, you and Theodore hadn't spoken since the train in.

Through all of this, you hadn't expected to become close friends with Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl in Theo and Draco's year. But she'd walked up to you during breakfast one morning and the two of you really hit it off.

Hence why currently, you were sat on Pansy's bed while she worked on her charms homework. And she was putting her absolute all into trying to convince you to ask Theo to Hogsmeade.

"C'mon Y/n! It might be fun."

"If by fun you mean he'll humiliate me in front of the entire student body." You mumbled under your breath. You tried to tune her out so as to focus on the book you were currently attempting to read, but she was determined.

"According to Blaise Theo's been talking about you when Draco isn't around to glare at him for it."

"Look Pans, I know you're in love with the bloke but have you considered that Blaise may be confused? Or simply taking the mickey?" Pansy shot you an unimpressed look. "Theo and I haven't spoken since September. In any case, if he's turning down long legged red heads who are all but stripping in front of him, what makes you think he'd want to go out with me?"

"Because he's already agreed to speak with you in the Slytherin Common Room tonight."

"What?!"

Pansy ignored your protests and damn near dragged you down to the common room with an iron grip on your wrist. When you got there, Theo was spread out on one of the expensive leather couches with a cigarette in between his lips. Yet as he noticed you approaching, he immediately dropped it and put it out with a stomp on the stone floors.

"Y/n."

The sonorous tones of Theo's voice bounced off each wall of the common room and seemed to warm you from the inside out. His voice was so inviting that you almost believed you could actually do this.

There is, however, one thing to know about Theodore Nott. No matter how inviting or pleasant Theo's aura is, you'd made a promise to yourself not to look him in the eyes. You knew that if you made the unfortunate mistake to look Theodore Nott in his malachite eyes, you'd lose all ability to think, speak, even breathe properly.

It wasn't until you saw his shoes enter your line of sight that you knew that he'd approached you at all. Worse, when his large hand found purchase under your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his, you knew that you were well and truly fucked.

In that most regrettable moment, you realized how much you'd fallen in love with Theodore. During shared hushed dates and the rare moments of laughter. Theodore Nott had completely enraptured you. And you realized much too late to do anything about it.

So now here you stood. Lost in the beautiful blues and greens of your fiancée's eyes. You were completely, 100% at Theodore Nott's mercy. And likely not for the last time in your life, you felt the urge to give into him. He was a sin that you'd willingly drown in.

"Bellisima," Theo's voice thickened as he spoke. You couldn't understand what he was saying nor could you place the language. But in all honesty, you hadn't known that he even spoke any other languages. His tongue wrapped effortlessly around each syllable and his voice deepened even more than usual, if possible. "I asked you a question."

"Huh?"

"You've been avoiding me." He stepped closer and your heartbeat spiked. "Why?"

Why had you been ignoring Theo again? How could you, or anyone for that matter, ever dream of not giving this devastatingly handsome man everything he desired and more? Oh yeah. Your wretched father.

"You've already been roped into entrapment with me and then forced to hang out with me all summer. I didn't want to cause anymore turmoil to your peace than I already have."

Theo's lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. Once again you'd gone and offended the poor boy.

Immediately, you opened your mouth to apologize, but he cut you off.

"D'you know for a Ravenclaw, you really can be rather thick sometimes?"

You felt your jaw drop in shock. The small grin he currently sported on his face let you know that he'd obviously been teasing. And for the umpteenth time since knowing him, Theo stole your breath with his stupid mesmerizing smile.

Yet, through all of that, he was right. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Theo finally seemed to get the hint that he was going to have to spell this out for you.

"I know you probably don't know this about me, but I never do anything that I don't want to. No matter who's asking."

You continued to stare at him blankly. Had he hit his head during the last quidditch match?

Theo ran a hand stressfully through his hair. He grabbed your wrist and led you back to the couches where you settled comfortably in the seat next to him, careful to maintain a respectful distance. "Merlin, Y/n. Turns out you Malfoy's are all slow."

"No offense." He added on quickly when he saw the look on your face. "That's not the point. Y/n I never would have agreed to this engagement with you if I didn't actually want to. I know that you did not get a say in the matter so if you truly wish to live our lives separately, I will respect your choice." Theo gently pulled your hand until it was safely tucked in between both of his larger ones.

"But whatever your decision, know that I am yours. I have wanted nothing more in the past few months than to be by your side. And every moment I spend without you is inexplicable torture for my soul."

"Theo."

He shook his head and cradled you face between his palms.

"No. My mother had a saying. Lascia che la vita accada. It means 'let life happen'. She believed that the only way to truly know if something is meant for you is to let life make it happen on its own. So take a few days. I'll meet you Saturday morning in the Great Hall. But know that if you agree to be mine, Tesoro, you'll be mine for eternity."

To say that staying away from Theo in the days following was easy would be a complete and total lie. When you told Pansy about the conversation the pair of you had (or lack thereof really) she'd all but exploded.

Finally, Saturday morning rolled around. You'd genuinely thought about all your options and you'd come to a decision. The only issue with Theo's plan is that Saturday was the infamous Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match. The Great Hall was bustling in seas of only red or green. You were sporting a dark green jumper, a show of obvious support for the Slytherin team.

Those of your house that favored Gryffindor looked on at you with disdain as you stood from your bench and began making your way to the Slytherin table in search of Theo. He was one of Slytherin's chasers so trying to find him during such a hectic morning proved difficult.

As you walked up and down the table, a familiar figure appeared in front of you.

"Ahh Malfoy. I've been looking for you. I was wonderin' if you'd wear my jersey."

Before you had time to respond or even acknowledge the situation at all, Adrian Pucey had shoved his green and silver practice jersey into your arms. It was an incredibly common practice for girlfriends and boyfriends of Quidditch players to wear their partner's jerseys to their games for good luck.

The hall fell silent as the sound of glass breaking reverberated through the air. You looked to the source of the noise. Theo had stood so abruptly from his seat next to Blaise and Lorenzo that his entire breakfast went flying and ended up on the floor.

He was staring at you with clear ache in his eyes. Suddenly, he swung himself over the bench and stormed out of the room.

You threw Adrian's awful smelling jersey back at his face and ran frantically after Theo.

"Theo!" He ignored you and continued walking briskly even as you approached quickly on his heels. "Theodore please. Just let me explain."

"You don't owe me an explanation, dolcezza ragazza. You've made your choice."

"You've got it all wrong. That's not my decision. I don't want that." You cried out as tears brimmed your eyes. The thought of losing Theo because of Adrian Pucey was mournful.

"Hey, hey. Calma tesoro. Breathe." Theo's hands one again found their way to your face. He gently thumbed the tears from your face. "Don't get yourself all worked up. I'll always listen to you."

"Adrian he just sort of threw his disgusting jumper at me. I don't want him. I only want you. I'm yours, Theodore Nott, completely and without hesitation."

The grin on Theo's face was nothing short of heart-stopping.

"Does that mean you'll wear my jersey at the game today?"

wc 2.6k oops

4.17.24

-- taglist --

@thatdammchickennugget @moonlightreader649

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #slytherin boys x reader #lorenzo zurzolo #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Just discovered you and love your writing! Was hoping to request something for when you have the time or desire to write 😊

Could you please do a Slytherin boy being betrothed to the reader where they know about each other and are in the same friend group but they never want to outright acknowledge it. They both secretly like each other but try to date other people because they dont want to be forced into being together.

Maybe someone gets too jealous and mad and then things escalate 😋

Thank you for considering 🥰🤩

I was having a hard time choosing which boy, so I hope Draco works. If not, send me another request! <3

Possessive

Draco Malfoy x F!Reader

Warnings: Oral(male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing

18+ Minors DNI!

The Malfoys and your parents had arranged for you and Draco to get married after you guys graduate. You never hated Draco and he never hated you, but the thought of being forced into a marriage with someone was something that pissed you off.

You both were friends and that never did change after the arrangement, even if it did get a little awkward. It made your friend group a little weird for a bit since they all knew, but no one dared to speak about it since both you and Draco threatened them if they mentioned it again.

Normally, Draco wouldn’t go against his parents, but having his future already decided for him made him start rebelling. Even you started to as well. You both would date, makeout, hookup with other people, trying to ignore the other person. You knew you were going to be married anyways eventually, why not experience other people before that?

But, deep down, both of you liked each other. As much as Draco didn’t like the idea of his future being controlled, he really did love that it was going to be with you. And same with you, you were happy you were going to be with him, you were just mad at your parents for forcing this onto you.

Even though he was trying to ignore you and have fun with other people, he was really falling harder for you. The way you’d smile and laugh when hanging out together with all your friends. Your jokes. Your personality.

Something snapped in him one day when he saw a guy hitting on you at one of the Slytherin parties. He tried pushing the jealousy away. You were his fiance, after all. He’d have you in the long run. But then the guy started touching you. A hand on your waist. He was going to cut his hand off.

Before he even realized it, he was walking towards you. He grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the guy.

“What the fuck?” You asked Draco as he was dragging you away, guiding you to his dorm. “Let go, Draco!”

“No.” He said coldly. He brought you in his room, closing the door.

“What the fuck was that about?” You yelled, pulling your arm out of his grip.

“You can’t do that! You’re fucking mine!” Draco said angrily.

“You’ve been dating and hooking up with other people, too. You can’t say that to me!” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“You’re going to be my fucking wife!” Draco said as he grabbed the hair on the back of your head possessively, making sure you looked up at him. “Not his. Not anyone else’s. Mine.”

“That’s not fair, Draco.” You said calmly, looking into his eyes. “You’ve been doing the same.”

“I’m done with them. I don’t want them anymore. I want you.” He matched your calmness, but kept his grip on your hair.

“You can’t just do that, Draco. I’ll be yours in the future, let me have my fun.”

“I can give you your fun, though.” He used his hand in your hair to tilt your head back further, moving his head to start pressing kisses to your neck. “Let me show you. If you hate it, I’ll leave you alone until the wedding.” 

“I…” You were struggling, partially from hesitation, not knowing if you should. The other part was because of the way he was kissing your neck and the hand in your hair.

“Come on, darling. Just once.” He whispered.

“Fine.” You agreed, uncrossing your arms.

He didn’t say anything, but moved his hands to pick you up and dropped you on the bed with him hovering over you. He spent a few moments just running his hands over you, like he was happy to finally have you all to himself, even for just a little bit.

“I'm gonna make sure you want no one else but me now.” He said as he started to undress you. “So fucking stunning.” He ran his hands all over you again once he got you naked. He wanted to worship you, kiss, lick, bite, touch all over you.

But he had to prove a point, he needed to show you who you belong to. And he really needed to feel you.

He got undressed as well, letting you rake your eyes over him. God, he loved seeing your eyes running over his body.

He leaned back down to start kissing you. His hands ran down your body again, giving your breasts a good squeeze before continuing its path down. He pulled away and moved to lay down beside you, moving you so your pussy was right above his face and you faced towards his lower half. He didn't waste any time before licking your cunt, moaning at the taste. You started moaning above him as you placed your hands down on his chest for support. He urged you to lean further down with a gentle hand on your back. You knew what he was going for and leaned down, wrapping a hand around his dick before spitting on cock then taking him in your mouth.

You both were pleasing each other with your mouths. His tongue alternating between licking at your clit and fucking your hole while you bobbed your head up and down his dick. Your moans were muffled by his cock as he moaned into your pussy. His mouth on you was so distracting, even his hands grabbing your ass were drawing your attention. Your movements were faltering and he started thrusting up into your mouth, making you gag on his cock.

“Come on, darling. I know you can do better than that.” He said as he gave your ass a spank.

You moaned and tried focusing back on sucking him off.

“That's my girl. Don't stop.” He said before putting his mouth back on your pussy.

He was still helping by thrusting into your mouth, it’s like he wanted to hear you gagging and moaning around him. His mouth continued its attack on your pussy, licking and sucking and prodding at your hole. It was getting distracting again. Draco noticed and flipped you to lay beside him, quickly settling back between your legs as he continued licking at your clit. He pushed two fingers inside you, too, looking up at you to watch your face.

“My mouth too distracting for you, love?” He teased before sucking on your clit.

Your hands went to his hair, arching into his mouth. “Shit! Yes!” You answered with an eager nod.

“And you wanted to have fun with someone else tonight.” He said after he let go of your clit. He continued licking and sucking, hearing all your pretty moans. 

He had you cumming on his mouth and fingers like he knew your body perfectly already. You cried out his name as you trembled, gripping his hair tightly. He helped you ride it out, using his free hand to rub your thigh.

He pulled off of you and flipped you over, pushing on your back gently to get you to lean down into the pillows.

“You're so gorgeous. I can't believe you were letting other people but me touch you, angel.” He said softly, but you could feel his anger and jealousy seething from him.

He pushed into you, definitely not as gently as his voice. You yelped at the intrusion before moaning at how nice his dick felt in you. He barely gave you a moment to adjust before he was thrusting in you. His cock was hitting deep in you, making you grip at the sheets below you as you moaned.

“Draco.” You moaned his name. “So deep. Fuck.”

“Yeah? Never had anyone this deep in you before?” He asked, gripping at your hips.

“No. Shit!” You cried into the pillows as you buried your face in them.

He wasn't having that and grabbed your hair again, pulling your head up from the pillows. “Wanna hear you, darling. No one's ever made you feel this good?”

“No! No! Just you!” You cried out, moaning from his brutal pace.

“Just me? Do you wanna fuck any of those other assholes anymore?” He moved his hand on your hip to your clit.

“No! I don't!” You were teetering on the edge now.

“Good. Who do you belong to, darling?” He asked, feeling how you were clenching on him as he groaned.

“I belong to you, Draco!” You cried out.

“You gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my cock, sweet girl?” He asked, his own thrusts losing tempo.

“Yes! I'm gonna cum!” He kept his pace as best as he could before you came, trembling and crying his name with a few curses.

He was right behind you, filling your sweet pussy with his cum. He rode out his high before pulling out and watching his cum dripping out as he rubbed along your back gently.

He never wanted anyone else to touch you again. You were his future wife. You belonged to him and him to you.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut

[luvsfics]

ok so slytherin boys and female / nb reader royal au 😩 (separately?)

SLYTHERIN BOYS ROYALTY AU —

Different royalty tropes that I think fit with the slytherin boys!

DRACO MALFOY — servant x prince

“Good evening, my prince.” You said as you began to make up his messy bed, as he had just awaken from a long night of council meetings with his father and lords that resided in the kingdom.

“Evening, sweet girl.” He said with a smirk as he tugged on a robe to give him some modesty as he was only wearing sleeping shorts.

He poured himself some wine and sat down beside his fireplace and watched as the flames flickered and burned the wood.

“How was your sleep?” You asked, fluffing out the pillows before organizing them on the big bed.

“It was fine, though that council meeting was exhausting.” He mentioned.

“Well, it will prepare you to be king.” You added. You picked up some of his dirty clothes off the floor and tossed them in a linen basket to clean.

He only huffed at your words. During your affections, he would mention how he didn’t think he would be a good king, how the people loved his father too much.

You set the basket on the bed and stepped towards the man in the chair. You stood in front of him and watched as he looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours.

You sat yourself down onto his lap, taking his face into your grasp, “you will be a good king, I know it.”

“When I am king, I will marry you.” He said, pressing a kiss onto your palm.

“You cannot marry me, I am merely a maid.” You said with a saddened expression, your brows furrowed.

“That doesn’t matter to me, the only thing that matters is my love for you.” He placed a hand over yours.

You smashed your lips onto his, his hands traveling down to your hips to pull you closer. If only he could become king quicker so you both could be each others.

MATTHEO RIDDLE — arranged marriage

“Hello, husband.” You said as you walked into your husband’s rather large office. He was studying books and accounts of other lords in the country.

“Hello, sweet wife.” He said as his attention stayed on his studies.

You approached the back of his chair, you hands found their way to his shoulders. You began to massage his tense shoulders, he let out a huff, tossing the pen down and relaxing into the chair, letting you work your magic on his sore muscles.

You both had been married for a few months are he had courted you for a few months before that. Your family was wealthy and as was his, that’s why your fathers had decided on the marriage.

You had become good friends and grown to care for each other. That had blossomed into love soon after the marriage ceremony, making both of your families proud that the marriage wouldn’t be a fail.

“You must come to bed with me, it is late.” You said as you rubbed out a knot in his muscles.

“I will, my love. I just have to get this done.” He said before picking up the pen again.

You took your hands away and pulled him from the chair. It took you a minute to actually get him out of the chair but you did.

“Our fathers would be quite upset if you weren’t giving your wife the attention she deserves.” You smiled.

“You love using that against me,” he said as he pecked your soft lips, his hands trailing down to your hips.

You only smiled as you pressed another gentle kiss on his lips.

THEODORE NOTT — princess x stable boy

“Good morning, princess.” Theo, the stable boy, said with a wink. You approached him as he was brushing one of the many horses the stable held, as your family could afford so many.

“Good morning to you, Theodore.” You said with a smile. You move towards the basket of carrots behind the man, grabbing one for the large brown horse.

You bring it up to its mouth, offering the carrot as a treat. The horse takes the vegetable and chewed it up into small pieces. You pet the top of the horses muzzle.

“She likes you.” He said as he stared at you, his thoughts telling him you were the most beautiful girl he had ever come across.

He continued to brush the horse, with a smirk on his lips as you gazed at each other.

You turned around, looking to see if anyone was nearby. Thankfully, the stable area was empty, leaving the two of you alone.

You stepped closer to him, “I have missed you, Theo.” You shyly played with your fingers.

He took one of his fingers and tilted your head up to look him in the eye, “I have missed you too, sweet princess.”

“We have not had a lesson in a while,” you pointed out.

“Perhaps we should have one soon.” He said, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, remembering the times you both shared falling in love.

BLAISE ZABINI — princess x knight

“Come back, princess!” Your personal knight, Blaise shouted as you ran through the halls of your family’s castle.

You giggled at the sound of him huffing and picking up his own feet to chase after you.

You raced through the corridors as the men in armor ran after you, you liked this game of cat and mouse, it excited you.

“Princess!” He called out down the hall, his exasperated expression only made you giggle harder, your dress flowing behind you in the wind as you ran.

You found your way to a small and empty hall, which overlooked a Great Lake, a beautiful sight to see in the sunset.

You panted as you saw the sun reflecting off of the gorgeous waters, the mountains in the background giving the view an everlasting beauty that you have never seen before.

“Princess, you must not run from me.” Blaise huffed, hands on his hips as he began to scold you.

Before he does, your lips smash onto his. Since the halls were empty, you could show your affections without judgment.

His hands gripped your waist and pulled you in, pressing himself into you and your lips touched in the most sensual way before slowly pulling away.

“You are…such a pain!” He cried.

“But you love me,” you smiled.

“That, I do.”

LORENZO BERKSHIRE — princess x baker

“I’m in need of pumpkin pasties, treacle tarts, sandwiches, and pumpkin juice.” You said as you read off the list you had written earlier on parchment.

Enzo wiped off his hands with a rag after he had finished washing them, “anything else, princess?”

You shook your head, handing him the piece of parchment before grabbing your basket that you brought with you. You scanned through the shelves full of fresh fruit like apples and berries, picking out the best looking ones for your picnic with your friends.

The Berkshire’s were bakers for the castle, they baked every pastry and sweets for events and whenever the royal family wanted.

What your parents, the king and queen, didn’t know is that you and the bakers son had a secret relationship you had hidden away.

You felt a pair of lips on your neck, startling you. A pair of strong arms crept around your waist and pulled you against their chest.

“Enzo!” You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips on your skin.

“You’re supposed to be baking my sweets!” You said as you playfully pushed his face away from you.

He huffed, “but you are the sweetest thing in this room.” He smiled as he spun you around and took your chin into his grasp, placing a delicate kiss on your soft lips.

“You charm me, my love.” You smile.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #harry potter #hp fanfic #hp #hp fandom #fanfic

[everdreamofme]

Crashed The Wedding

thedore nott x reader

song inspo; crashed the wedding - busted

'Nott, will you stop bouncing your fucking leg?' Mattheo groaned. Theo rolled his eyes at his friends theatrics. To be perfectly honest, he couldn't care less if he was getting on Mattheo's nerves. His mind was preoccupied with other things. This had to be one of the worst days of his life - correction, the worst day of his life.

One would usually be overjoyed that one of their best friends was getting married today, but not Theo. And not when he had been in love with the aforementioned best friend for the best part of ten years.

'I can't just fucking sit here.' He huffed, slouching in his chair. The boys had originally been on their way to Y/N's wedding ceremony when Theo demanded to stop the car, declaring he couldn't go on to watch Y/N marry someone else. After giving him some cigarettes to try and calm him down and numerous attempts to coax him back into the car, it was decided that Blaise and Enzo would continue onto the wedding while Draco and Mattheo stayed with Theo for moral support. So here they sat, dressed fully in a suit and tie, in a dingey pub Salazar knows where.

'Either get your arse up and go to the wedding, or stop your moaning!' Draco snapped, finishing the rest of his drink. It was now Theo's turn to be dramatic as he groaned and threw his head back.

'You know I can't go to the wedding, Malfoy!'

'Yeah, mate. He's only been in love with her for ten years; watching her walk down the aisle to someone else probably isn't on his bucket list.' Mattheo chimed, making Theo groan again and drop his head onto the pub table before him.

'What the fuck do I do?' He mumbled.

Mattheo shrugged after a minute's silence. 'Could crash the wedding.'

Theo's head shot up, and Draco's eyes widened. 'What the fuck did you just say?'

'I said you could crash the wedding. Y'know, barge in and-'

'Yes, I know what wedding crashing is, Riddle!'

'Oh, no, you don't! Don't you dare be considering this!' Draco hissed at the two boys before him. 'You cannot ruin her big day!'

'No, no—think about it, Malfoy. This was an arranged marriage, right? Her parents organised the whole thing?' Theo asked, hopeful eyes turning to Draco as he now sat up straight.

'Yes.' Draco gritted out.

'So Y/N didn't really want to go along with this, did she?'

'Absolutley not, mate. No one ever wants to comply with a marriage arranged by their parents just to keep a pure blood line!' Mattheo nodded along as Draco glared at him.

'Why are you encouraging this, Riddle?! You can't ruin her day; she's your best friend too!'

'Which is exactly why I want her to be truly happy! Both of them!' He retorted. The trio were now getting strange looks from the other occupants of the pub, but they couldn't care less.

'Am I insane to be seriously considering this?' Theo mumbled.

'Yes!'

'Theo, you've been in love with the girl since, what, third year? Pretty sure she's been in love with you since then, too. Neither one of you has ever made a move—why? Not a fucking clue. But if you seriously want a chance with her, this is quite literally the last chance you're ever going to get.' Mattheo spoke, probably the most serious either Theo or Draco had ever seen the boy.

'He's right.' Both boys' eyes snapped towards Draco.

'Oh, caved now, have we?' Mattheo asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

'Piss off, Riddle.' Draco huffed before turning back to Theo. 'But he is right. This is your final chance to admit it to her. You don't have to barge into the place, wand ready for combat and all, but once those words are spoken, you've lost her, mate.'

Theo's eyes darted between the two boys before him as he nervously chewed his fingertip. He stood abruptly, knocking his previously occupied chair to the ground. 'I'm going to fucking do it.'

'Y/N, you look absolutely stunning!' Pansy gushed as she stood behind the girl, lightly fixing her hair.

'Thanks Pans.' Pansy quirked an eyebrow as Y/N gave her a small smile through the mirror.

'Everything alright?'

'Y-yeah, no, I'm fine. Just nervous.'

'And you're sure you want to go through with this?' She asked, making Y/N frown at her best friend.

'Pansy.' She warned, making the brunette throw her hands up in surrender.

'I'm just checking, babes! It's my job to make sure you're all good!' Y/N turned and gave her a pointed look before both girls began giggling.

'I can't believe I'm getting married.'

'Me too. Come on, it's your time to shine.'

It was a relatively small wedding, with only a handful of guests from both the bride and groom. Y/N had to practically beg her father to let five of her friends attend.

Pansy made her way down the aisle first, arm linked with one of Jack's groomsmen. Smiling at her guests as she made eye contact, Y/N began her descent to the altar. Catching Enzo's eye, she laughed softly as he gave her a huge grin and a thumbs up. Her smile faded completely once she noticed the three seats next to Blaise and Enzo were empty—where were Mattheo, Draco, and most importantly, Theo? Could her best friend not even bother to show up for her wedding? Reaching the altar, she rapidly blinked the tears away before they could fall. 

'Are you alright?' Pansy whispered as Y/N handed her the bouquet of flowers she carried down the aisle, causing the bride-to-be to nod curtly and turn to the altar.

The officiant began his speech as Pansy's eyes flew around the room, narrowing when she spotted only her boyfriend Blaise and Enzo in the empty row of where her friends should be. They had better be dead, or I will kill them.

'If anyone wishes to object to this marriage, please speak now or-'

The poor officiant was cut off mid-sentence as the door swung open, causing Y/N to flinch and their guests to gasp. Whipping her head around, she saw the cause of the interruption. Theodore Nott stood slightly out of breath in the doorway she had not long come through herself, looking like a deer caught in headlights, with Draco and Mattheo behind him.

'Holy shit.' He breathed, staring at the girl before him. 

'Y/N, you... you look breath-taking...' The officiant cleared his throat, snapping Theo out of his trance as he looked around the room.

'Sorry! Sorry, uh, Y/N, can I borrow you for a second?' Y/N's eyes widened at the question.

'I'm kind of in the middle of something here, Theodore!' She hissed at the boy before her. Whirling around, she grabbed her soon-to-be-husband's hand and gestured for the officiant to continue.

'Oh, uh, yes! Yes. As I was saying, if anyone wishes to object to this marriage, please speak now or forever hold your peace.'

'I object!' The room filled with gasps and whispers as Theo shouted from the bottom of the aisle. Pansy's hand flew to her mouth, Blaise's eyes almost popped out of his head, and Enzo's jaw dropped. Mattheo stood grinning proudly behind Theo, while Draco's lips pursed.

'Theodore!' Y/N hissed again, whirling around to face her best friend with a thunderous look on her face.

'Please! Please, just hear me out, Y/N...' He begged, taking a step towards the altar, where she stood.

'I'm in love with you. So deeply, tragically, in love with you. You're all I ever think about, ever since that day in third-year potions when you had absolutely no clue what to do and asked if I could simplify the instructions for you. I thought to myself, how you were the most beautiful girl to ever roam the halls of Hogwarts, and that still stands true to this day.'

'You're the most beautiful girl to ever roam the entire earth. And not even just beauty; you are the smartest, funniest, and most caring person I have ever met in my entire life. And I'm sure anyone who has ever met you will one hundred percent agree with me when I say that you honestly light up any room you enter, even with just your smile.'

'And, quite frankly, I am the biggest fucking idiot on the planet because I have loved you, constantly, for over ten years, and I've never done a thing about it. I have so much to say, and I'm so fucking sorry that it's on your wedding day. I just had to tell you; I love you, Y/N'

The entire room was silent as Theo finished. He now stood a few steps below her, looking up into her eyes as she stared back at him with tears in her eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

'Theo, I-I..'

'Fuck this.' Her groom mumbled, descending the few stairs and making his way back up the aisle. This seemed to snap Y/N out of her trance as she looked up from Theo's gaze after her groom.

'Jack - where are you going?'

'Come on; neither of us wanted this wedding; we were just doing it to please families. And I'm certainly not going to take that kind of love away from you.' He explained, nodding at Theo as he did so. Shooting her a wink, he turned and left the room, his family beginning to apparate out of the building after him.

Y/N blinked a few times before looking back to Theo, who she found was already staring up at her.

'I, I don't know what to say, Theo.' She whispered. He smiled as he took her hands, giving a light kiss to her knuckles.

'Mi amore, you don't have to say anything.' Y/N took a couple of steps down, becoming level with Theo as she placed her palms on either of his cheeks.

'It's taken me a moment to fully comprehend all of those lovely things you said about me, Theo. I guess I'm just overwhelmed, and that's why I can't find the words right now, but I just want to tell you that I love you too. So, so much, Theo. I love you so much.'

'Oh, thank Salazar.' He muttered before pulling her towards him and crashing his lips against hers. Y/N's arms moved around his neck as Theo's snaked around her waist, pulling her as close as he possibly could. The whooping and cheering of their friends broke the two apart as they pressed their foreheads together and grinned.

'Long time coming, eh, boys?'

'Berkshire, you owe me ten galleons; - told you they'd get together!'

silly little idea i had when i heard this song today

#harry potter #harry potter universe #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #fanfic #theo #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #x reader #draco malfoy #slytherin x reader #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #matt #matteo riddle #x y #x y/n

[rafeysbafey]

rafeysbafey’s fic recs

- rafe cameron

prompts/blurbs

mean!rafe x crybaby reader

gentle sex

fics

live like a kook (enemies to lovers)

pillow talk (mean!rafe)

perfect (fluff)

first kiss (mean!rafe x innocent reader)

mean!rafe soft for reader

enough (angst)

dealer!rafe (fluff)

vanilla (illusions to sex)

smuts

“i’ll make it fit” (hate sex)

caught in public

indebuted (dark!rafe)

soux chef (pogue!reader)

smut

praising (dealer!rafe)

hate sex

series

untouchable

don’t blame me

the trip (enemies to lovers)

- jj maybank

fics

undercover (fluff)

opposites attract (mafia!arranged marriage)

smuts

breeding kink!jj

stuck with you

mocking

the art of going all the way

- ethan landry

fics

how you get the girl (smut at end)

ghostface!ethan

let the games begin (hogwarts au)

secret mornings

hazy

smuts

can’t get rid of me (dark!ethanlandry)

bratty!reader

smut

diary (brothers bestfriend!ethan, enemy!ethan)

jealous boy

- draco malfoy

smuts

enemies with benefits (hate sex)

- theodore nott

prompts

“my love language is bullying people” (fake dating)

fics

you’re the best i ever had, you’re the worst i ever had

- miguel o’hara

smuts

la apuesta

smut

perfect morning

obsession

smut blurb

- coriolanus snow

smuts

ways to destress

ride

#rafeysbafey’sficrec #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #ethan scream 6 #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry angst #miguel x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy

[yanxidarlings]

YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER

continuation of my previous post (i got caught up in getting out my anthony goldstein headcanons was it obvious). okay so full disclosure, i haven't read the fanfictions lorenzo and mattheo are from (i only read yandere is it obvious) (i see their faceclaims and cannot. exclude), so if i'm not portraying them correctly shout at me. but just for a moment, imagine having the 79-80 liner slytherin boys yandere for their dormmate? (okay there is a loophole i'll write for male readers/darlings if asked).

maybe they've known the reader/darling since childhood, and the sudden close proximity magnifies the possessive and obsessive tendencies they were developing towards the darling. or, the darling could suddenly get sorted into slytherin and now they have a roommate they did not expect to have. for the second scenario i don't think the darlings personality would matter much - either way, they're all apprehensive about this really cute kid they suddenly are dorming with.

maybe they give the reader a hard time at first (although this is only really likely to happen for a darling in a different house, or a muggleborn darling) but whoo boy if anyone else thinks of teasing the reader, they'll get hell from our dear slytherins here. actually, anyone who the reader pays mind to becomes a target of torment and bullying by draco and his gang. especially potter. please, reader, for potters own sanity and the good of the wizarding world, do not approach, think about or even look in the direction of harry. it ends in an ugly tantrum from draco, prolonged sarcasm from theodore, silence from blaise, aggression from mattheo and teasing from lorenzo. crabbe and goyle won't be carrying your books for you for the next week either.

when they get like this, it'll be the darling that'll have to make it up to them, or risk having it all drag out until one of them gets over it naturally.

GREGORY GOYLE & VINCENT CRABBE (cast josh herdman, jamie waylett):

they're all horribly possessive and jealous by default, but generally, crabbe and goyle are the easiest to deal with, they both have a soft spot for their darling, and are pretty used to being bossed around, the second choice and having to share. they're also the easiest to appease, putting food on crabbe's plate is enough to make him happy, and paying goyle any mind will go a long way.

they don't need constant attention (draco), validation (draco), and affection (draco), from their darling, and are content just being in their life.

BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):

after them, i honestly don't know who's worse. going in alphabetical order, blaise appears to be calm and uncaring when it comes to his darling, but do not be fooled, he's not going to sit back and let his darling get whisked away by the likes of a half blood (sorry mattheo), spolit daddy's boy (apologies draco), spolit mommy's boy (soz enzo) or someone who's one lab accident away from becoming a supervillain (blaise's words not mine theo).

blaise tolerates the rest of the slytherins for now, but if any of them think he'd ever fully agree to sharing with the likes of them, they are wrong. he fantasises about taking his darling away from the world after graduating, and probably has his mother trying to arrange a marriage the moment he decides they're his.

DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):

unlike blaise, draco is not even a little bit subtle about his possesiveness over his darling, he only see's the other slytherins as tools to ensure his darlings safety and happiness at hogwarts, and does not bother to pretend like he isn't planning to kidnap move the reader into malfoy manor the minute they graduate. actually, he couldn't wait that long.

he'll look for any opportunity to have the malfoy family gain custody of his darling. all the more better if his darling comes from a dysfunctional household. but either way, he'll make sure his family is all they have to turn to.

all i know about lorenzo is that he has mommy and daddy issues so i'll have to piggybank off that. he'll present himself as the 'sane' one, if his darling is complaining about the behaviour of the other slytherins, enzo wholeheartedly agree's with them "i don't know what's wrong with all of them - you sure you didn't slip any amortentia into their drinks?" he becomes a safe haven from the possessive obsession his dormmates seem to share for their darling.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):

lorenzo acts the most normal, but don't be fooled, he's just as obsessed as the rest of them. enzo is just better at hiding it. he too, frequently thinks about whisking them away, but is much less finite about it; holing his darling up in his house isn't the end goal. he could honestly live with sharing them with his fellow slytherins, but this is all assuming that the reader takes well to his attempts at becoming the 'sane one'.

if enzo isn't able to successfully befriend them, he'll have to settle for being the 'mean one'. teasing and humiliation follows his darling, as does he. it's not severe, but it's probably the push the reader needs to fall into deep depression and anxiety. so please, take the sane bait.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):

mattheo doesn't exactly have a family reputation to uphold, blaise, draco, enzo and theo would want to keep up a respectable reputation, whatever that is in pureblood society, but mattheo? the dark lords son? he's entirely unhinged.

if lorenzo is the 'sane one', mattheo is the 'crazy one'.

he doesn't really care what his darling, or others, think of his behaviour. if he wants to spend time with them, he's going to. he'll pull them out of class, drag them away from the other slytherins, just to skip rocks in the black lake with them, or raid the kitchens. he doesn't really bother hiding his yandere tendencies, he'll actively tell his darling not to talk to certain people "because i said so" "stop asking questions", and will refuse to elaborate further. sometimes, there will be disturbing moments of honesty between him and his darling; he'll admit that he's obsessed with them, and threaten to attack people they pay attention to. and he'll tell them that they belong to him.

sometimes it's frightening and sometimes he'll come across as sweet. he is both predictable and unpredictable, which puts his darling at unease around him.

THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):

theodore uses guilt to garner his darlings sympathy, all the more easier if they are childhood friends. he'll make sure they know about his harsh childhood, and make them feel responsible for his wellbeing. he's the only one to create a sense of dependency not built upon threats. out of all the slytherins, he gets to know his darling the best, he'll use guilt, emotional breakdowns and dark secrets to create a sense of obligation towards him.

theo is the most comforting of the slytherins to be around, he's quiet and the only one who they can spend time with without feeling much pressure. he demands the most of their attention, and is by far the most possessive. whilst i can see the other slytherins finding a way to deal with sharing their darling amonst themselves, if the rest don't back off eventually (stop dreaming theo) (they won't), he's the most inclined to just get rid of them - he can't stand it when his darling is around anyone but him, he wakes early to walk his darling to class just so they won't get caught up in the busy halls, where eyes can wonder and other people can have a chance to interact with his darling.

theodore pairs with them for every project, which leads to some ugly arguments between him and blaise, who only really get's his fill of his darling by sitting next to them in class. and draco, and mattheo and enzo and even goyle who was hoping the reader would help get him a good grade for once.

out of all of them, draco, goyle and blaise are the most patient. they want their darling to love them, not see them as monsters to flinch away from.

theodore, lorenzo and mattheo will take whatever they can get. lorenzo in particular doesn't want his darling to fear him but won't let them get away with trying to escape or disobedience. mattheo doesn't mind being the villain if he must be, but his heart clenches when his darling acts so obviously distrustful of him. theodore is the least patient, and if his darling starts to shy away from him, he snaps. at them, at the rest of the slytherin boys. but he's also easy to keep content, so long as his darling is always by his side.

similarly, blaise just enjoys being in the presence of his darling, and doesn't feel the need to cuddle up to them constantly like draco and enzo do. mattheo is a loose canon, and sometimes is fine being near them, other times he wants skin to skin contact 25/8.

they're hopeless at sharing, and only really get along for the sake of their darling. there are only really two ways this can end; theodore finally snaps and tries to off the rest of them after graduation, or they somehow come to an agreement on sharing, maybe they each get their own day a week

monday for draco, tuesday for blaise, wednesday for theo, thursday for enzo, and friday for mattheo. goyle and crabbe probably aren't taken seriously enough to get given their own day, so then the weekends are spent sharing (fighting).

the only time the boys will work in tandem is when someone attempts to take their darling and their attention, away. best example, darling starts dating someone. which is already pretty improbable, considering they give the reader no alone time whatsoever. but let's just say the darling here is going on a date with cormac mclaggen (get a grip, darling), any grudges they've been holding against each other are off, mclaggen has just signed his death warrant.

mattheo and theodore do most of the dirty work, whilst lorenzo distracts the reader. draco and blaise cover up their tracks, so it seems like whatever they did to mclaggen was an untimely accident. or have it blamed on someone else. goyle and crabbe intimidate anyone who tries to get close to the darling from then on.

they might hate sharing with each other, but they truly despise sharing with an 'outsider'.

#yandere harry potter #yandere draco malfoy #yandere blaise zabini #yandere theodore nott #yandere mattheo riddle #yandere lorenzo berkshire #yandere goyle #yandere crabbe #yandere slytherin #hp #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #gregory goyle #slytherin boys #golden era #hp writings

[sundrop-writes]

My Bleeding Heart

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary:

When Draco finds out that you are pregnant, he can't bring himself to be happy about the news because he doesn't want to bring a child into this wartorn world just to be another pawn in the Dark Lord's games. So, then and there, he makes a very important decision to risk everything in order to protect you and his future child.

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage. Angst (with a Fluffy Ending). Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 3,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is pregnant in this fic; this is set during Deathly Hallows and there are a lot of themes from that era - death, blood purity ideals, general violence, murder, mentions of Draco being tasked with killing Dumbledore; Draco and the reader live in an environment where they fear for their lives because they don't believe in Death Eater values completely and fear being killed for it; Draco and the reader are in an arranged marriage meant to carry on blood purity - but they have fallen in love in the marriage; the reader is a pureblood, but I have not mentioned her being related to any canon characters, so her appearance/race is not defined; general emotional angst - Draco fears for his own life, your life, and the fate of your unborn child if they are born into pureblood society; in the first half, there is some arguing/tension between Draco and the reader (but it's mostly due to the emotional tension of their situation); mentions of Dumbledore's death; non detailed mentions of sex (that's how we got the baby, duh) (sadly no smut); passing mention of abortion/pregnancy termination (they both want the child but fear for the child's safety in this environment); semi-graphic mentions of consensually inflicted injuries - Draco gets the reader to cut off the skin with his Dark Mark on it so that he can't be tracked or summoned with it; these warnings make it seem like a really dark fic but the ending is really fluffy I promise; toward the end, the reader and Draco have a toddler who refers to them as 'Mummy' and 'Daddy', and I think that is about it.

Author's Notes: The prompt of 'character finds out you are pregnant' was originally from the fluff prompts list, but because this is Draco, I couldn't help but to throw some angst in here. Because I imagine that if Draco was still living with his parents and surrounded by Death Eaters and the blood purity ideals, he would be very hesitant to want a child of his own because he wouldn't want a child to be tainted by all of it the way that he had been. Because at a certain point, the pride he felt turned sour. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy because this does get fluffy toward the end.

...

Terror. 

That was the very first thing Draco could tangibly say that he was feeling. 

The last two years of his life had been a sickening rollercoaster of utter chaos, and quite frankly, he had become numb to it all. He had to force himself to be numb, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived. And currently, survival was his only feasible goal. But this - this news touching his ears was one thing that woke up his senses from that numbness and sent him rocketing into the harshness of reality. This made him feel again, in the worst ways. Suddenly he was nauseous, shaking, blood rocketing against his ear drums, creating a harsh thumping in seconds. 

He wished that he had heard you wrong. 

“Are - are you sure?” He stuttered out, feeling his hands becoming exceptionally clammy as he clutched them around nothing, his feet unsteady on the ground. 

You saw him becoming remarkably pale for someone who was already so papery toned on a normal day, and you worried that he was going to faint. You worried that his harsh reaction meant that he hated the idea of you being pregnant - that he was angry with you. Of course, you realised that the fault wasn’t all on you, that was just nature. But part of you thought that he put the onus on you to take care of birth control, using potions or spells, because he had been worried about so many other things since the start of your relationship. 

Up until now, you weren’t sure if you wanted what they wanted. You weren’t naive enough to look beyond the reason you had married Draco in the first place. You were there to produce the next pureblood heir with him. Originally, you had thought it was romantic, in a sense. But when you had met Draco’s family, the people he was surrounded with, the people who called themselves Death Eaters - you realised that it most certainly wasn’t an ideal environment to bring a child into. 

Killing at the drop of a hat, torturing, murdering the innocent - those weren’t ideals that you wanted your child to be brought up on. 

“Draco, sit down, please,” You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to usher him toward one of the expensive chairs sitting in the corner of his room. 

You had stolen him away for a rare moment of privacy between meetings and Death Eaters traipsing around the house. These days, his parents always demanded that the two of you make good on appearances because you were supposed to be the sweet young couple, the future of the pureblood line. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered the question much more harshly, the words hissed through his lips like pure venom as he desperately waited for you to confirm it. 

He let himself be guided by you and collapsed down into the chair, sitting with his head in his hands, ruffling up his usually neat, slicked-back hair with rough, stressful fingers through it. 

Your stomach twisted with your own unique stress as you watched him. You hadn’t seen him so distraught since his first failed attempt on the mission he had been given last year. 

“I’m sure.” You said. “I went to the apothecary and got one of the test potions-” 

“A store bought test potion?” Draco hissed. 

He gave you the harshest glare that you had ever seen from him, which was saying something considering the looks of pure disdain he had given you upon first meeting. His jaw was set so tightly that it looked as though his molars were going to crush in on themselves at any moment. 

Your posture shrunk back, desperately trying to hide from his invasive stare. You wished that you could have burrowed under the floorboards at that point. 

You knew that it was fear and panic about the situation at large, all the death you had been surrounded with compounding onto him. But you hated that he was inadvertently taking it out on you. 

After a moment of you not speaking, Draco continued. 

“I should have made it myself, if you had just told me-” 

“Yes, and nobody would have become suspicious if you were mulling around, gathering the ingredients for a pregnancy test potion.” You snapped back. 

Draco’s face grew even more sickly at this, and you knew that you were both silently on the same page - nobody else in the house could know that you were pregnant. If they even suspected it, then it was over. 

He heaved a sigh, gathering all of his thoughts before he chose one to bring to open air. 

“Were you seen?” He asked, still tearing into you indignantly, talking to you as though you were stupid. 

“No.” You told him, entirely certain. “I wore a large cloak with a hood, it was dark. Nobody recognized me.” 

He gave you a distinct frown that said he was unsure of the truth in your words, and you rushed to trample over his potential sarcastic remark with your own. 

“I suppose they don’t recognize me when I’m not on your arm, anyway.” 

You scoffed out the last part, talking about this fact with distaste even though in actuality it was something you loved. You felt safe when you were with Draco. You couldn’t imagine facing the scowling faces without his arm around you. 

But you knew that’s all you were in this society - Draco’s wife. That’s all you had been labelled as since you had been shipped over from America by your godmother. 

You were the last of your noble pureblood family’s line. Your parents had been killed by Aurors in the name of Voldemort’s cause during the first war. After their deaths, you had been sent to live with your godmother in America, never truly understanding how your parents were killed or why.

The whole reason you had met Draco in the first place - an arranged marriage. Something that would have honoured your parents, apparently. 

The Malfoys had been looking for a pureblood match around Draco’s age, and they had once known your parents, and thought of you as a good prestigious pureblood girl to marry their son. It didn’t take them long to find you, even though you didn’t mingle in pureblood society like they did. (Something they found to be a big shame and a horror upon your parents’ memory.) 

Your godmother sold you out for a ‘dowry’ of two thousand Galleons, and from there, your life became a living hell. 

Strangely enough, Draco had been the one anchor keeping you alive in it. 

Most would say that it was because he was kind by comparison, but truly - he was easy to fall in love with when he was compassionate, sweet, loving in the smallest ways that made you feel safe during some of the most hectic times of your life. 

Draco had never intended to get attached to you. 

But like anything in his life - pining for the crumbs of his father’s approval, digging under all the proprietary for a single genuine gesture of affection from his mother - Draco’s heart kept beating as much as he tried to turn it off. He convinced himself that he was solid stone, but apparently, you were the pickaxe that made him crumble to pieces. After meeting him, you burrowed through the layers of snide coldness and dark humour that he used in an effort to put you off and you found that still beating heart. That soft thing that he hated so much about himself. 

You dug that heart out of his chest, and - despite his best efforts to fight you off, you nursed that heart back to health. And you gave him the closest thing he had experienced to ‘love’ in years. 

On the day the two of you got married, when Dumbledore’s dead body was barely cold, Draco said his vows to you with nothing but honesty in his heart. And that night, he made love to you with intense passion, held you in his arms as though you might slip away if he didn’t grip onto you tight enough. And only after you had fallen asleep in his arms, was when he allowed himself to cry. Because he knew that they now had one more way to make him hurt if they wanted to. They could kill him, they could stop the breath in his lungs, but he would die a million deaths through you being hurt in the smallest of ways before that happened. 

And now - with this utterly horrifying revelation, they had new ways to hurt him. He should have died a lone man. He should have let them kill him instead of agreeing to any of this in the first place. He shouldn’t have learned to love - he shouldn’t have grown these new limbs that they could cut off savagely and tear apart in front of him. 

“I got another one.” You announced when the room had grown too quiet, silent tears streaming down Draco’s face as he sat in intense contemplation. “Another test potion. An extra. I figured you’d want to see it with your own eyes.” 

Even though the two of you had only met two short years ago - you knew him too well. You knew that he would want visual confirmation before his own eyes. 

“Get it. Please.” He said, trying his best not to let his throat drown in these tears. He wouldn’t be reduced to sobbing. 

You went to your cloak, which was hung on a hook in an opposite corner of the room, and grabbed the potion vial out of your pocket. Your shoes clacking against the floor made a terribly hollow soundtrack to the whole thing as you ripped off the small tag that was tied to the neck of the potion bottle and handed it to Draco. He read the instructions on it while you uncorked the potion. 

It was simple: you put some sample of your DNA in the bottle - a hair, a small bit of blood, something like that. And then if the potion changed colours to glow white, it meant that you were pregnant. If it made no change from its original, soupy grey colour - then you weren’t pregnant. 

He watched, holding his breath as you plucked a single hair from your head and then dropped it into the now open top of the bottle. When the hair made contact with the liquid, it bubbled slightly as it dissolved. Then - after only a moment, the bottle began to shake roughly in your hand as it changed colour, and surely enough - it glowed brightly white. 

You were definitely pregnant. 

Draco’s nausea increased. And then - in a moment, he felt a fierce sense of protectiveness wash over him. It was as though he had been slapped sharply across the face, woken up from the blind numbness he had been feeling. He knew at that moment that he needed to take action. He couldn’t simply stand by and let things happen around him anymore. He could simply sit around hoping for safety, hoping for some miracle to save the two of you. 

“Happy?” You scoffed. 

You took Draco’s lack of words as a negative - a sign that he was certainly unhappy with the news. 

Not that you were entirely thrilled under the present circumstances - you were scared, stressed, and hating it because you had always wanted children, but not like this. 

You placed the potion down on the nearest table and stormed off to the bathroom attached to Draco’s bedroom. He chased you, catching the door before you could slam it closed and lock it. 

You conceded to his movements quickly and simply turned to face the sink, unable to look at him right now. You turned it on, splashing cold water on your face, trying your best not to freak out because clearly he was already playing that role. He walked up behind you, gently pressing his body into yours. Even under these circumstances, you found his presence so comforting. You found his body behind you to be nothing but a wall of safety, and you couldn’t help but to lean back into him, your eyes still tightly closed. 

Draco reached around you and gently pressed his hand into your stomach - you held back tears of your own now. Clearly, you were both thinking the same thing. Thinking of the unborn child that you both needed to protect. You placed your hand over his, seeking comfort in his touch as he flattened a palm across your stomach. 

It was a world shattering revelation to know that his child was resting under his hand. 

“No one can find out about this.” He muttered quietly into your neck. 

It was something Draco dreaded - them finding out about your pregnancy. 

This is what they had been waiting for. This was the reason for the marriage in the first place. This was the pureblood heir - this was their chess piece. 

Draco wouldn’t let his child become another pawn in their games. 

“It’s still early.” You choked out quietly. “There are other potions. We could-” You choked on your own words, unable to even speak it aloud. 

Draco dug his fingers into the fabric of your shirt protectively, quite insulted at the insinuation. 

“No.” He replied, his voice rough with anger. “Unless the idea of being pregnant with my child is so utterly horrible to you-” 

“It’s not that!” 

You screeched, forcefully turning in his arms, wanting to face him. He kept one hand on your hip, and moved the other up to gently grasp your cheek, thumbing away your tears as they gathered. It was that gentleness that always got you. His natural instinct to comfort you.You leaned into his touches as you continued. 

“I want this baby more than anything. I - I’m just terrified they’ll see that as a weakness.” 

You knew it was the truth. Especially when Draco’s sullen face confirmed it. In this circle, loving anything or anyone was a weakness that could be exploited. 

Draco leaned in and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting the single, solitary moment of peace wash over you. 

“I’ll protect you.” He declared, his voice whisper-quiet, but nearly broken with the intensity of his words. “Both of you.” He added this on as he brushed his palm over your stomach once again. 

Again, you laid your hand over his, uttering quiet assurances of love toward your unborn child. 

“Draco, how-?” 

He didn’t let you finish the question. 

“We’ll leave. We’re leaving. Tonight.” He declared firmly. 

It was something you had suggested before - to protests from Draco, many scathing comments poking holes in your plans. His parents would be killed if he left. At this point, he had to surrender to the idea that they could take care of themselves - that they had made their bed and they had to lie in it. But now that he had the Dark Mark, they would be able to find him, wherever he went. But he would find some harsh way around that. 

Now that he had so much more at stake, he couldn’t care if his parents died because of his actions. He had so much more that he had to protect. 

“I’ll cut off my bloody arm if I have to.” Draco mumbled quietly, and then turned sharply from the bathroom, leaving to pack. 

… 

“Daddy, Mummy’s not being fair! She won’t let me play with the jellyfish!” 

“Draco, can you please explain to your daughter that jellyfish are dangerous and she can’t play with them?” You replied, trying your best to haul your toddler away from the rough rocks at the water’s edge where the creature had washed up. 

“Love, why don’t you come and play with your toys over here?” Draco posed, trying to draw her attention toward something else. She was much like himself as a child - determined, stubborn, and wouldn’t do anything unless she believed it was her own idea first. “Come and show Daddy how to build a sand castle, hmm?” 

She seemed to perk up at this. She was clever, and over-eager to show off her skills. More than eager to show her father how to do something properly if she felt that he wasn’t doing it right. This happened with everything from the way he spread marmalade on his toast to the way he tied his shoes - something she had just learned how to do that she was eager to show off her expertise in.

As she tore out of your arms and trudged across the beach to scoop some sand into her bucket, Draco had to be thankful as he watched you follow slowly behind. Purely thankful of the fact that the biggest danger your daughter had to worry about was something like a stray jellyfish washed up on shore. 

Three years after escaping a life of servitude toward the Dark Lord in England, you and Draco enjoyed a quiet life with your daughter Aster in France. 

You sat down beside Draco with a huff, picking up the book you had previously been reading. You flashed him a grateful smile as he listened to Aster’s detailed instructions about how they should build their castle. He gave you a wide grin in return, and you felt your insides tingle. His smile used to be something as rare as a Basilisk, but now he wore it proudly and more often - he wore his happiness without restraint. 

With the short-sleeved, light linen shirt that he had on for the beach, the scar on his forearm was fully visible. It reminded you of the brave choices he had made on that night three years ago. 

You had convinced Draco not to cut off his arm completely, but the two of you knew that the Dark Mark needed to go. Otherwise, the two of you could never run far enough, you would have nowhere to hide. So now he sported a large scar where you had held him down and cut the skin off with a sharp knife. That night, his parents had found his room empty, save for the flap cut-off skin in the middle of his bloody bedroom floor. Luckily, you had a talent for healing spells and Draco had been able to knick a few good potions from his family’s cupboards before the two of you left. 

On the outside, it was jagged and ugly. But when he looked at it, it reminded him of nothing but freedom - of the love you had committed to him that day, to your unborn daughter. 

With a couple thousand Galleons in gold taken from his parents’ stash, the two of you started a new life. You were untraceable and happy. And though there was intense relief when you read in the papers that Potter had succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord and that meant the war was over - the two of you didn’t have any plans to go back to England anytime soon. 

Not when your new life was this good. 

“-and see, you need to dig down until you find the sand that’s wet, that makes a good castle-” Aster drawled on, piercing her toy shovel into the ground frantically as she spoke. 

Draco nodded, giving her a smile as he followed her instructions. “Yes, yes. I see. Very smart girl.” 

He had gotten the two of you away from that life, and not for a moment had your daughter ever known the kind of pain or fear that you had. 

“Daddy’s learning a lot today, isn’t he?” You remarked, giving Draco a sly grin. 

“Good thing I’ve got this smart girl here to teach me,” He said, leaning over and giving Aster a kiss on the forehead. 

That was another thing that made you fall even deeper in love with him - the droves of affection he gave to his daughter. Now that he wasn’t being watched so closely, now that he wasn’t expected to be the picture perfect son, he could love her exactly how he wanted to. He didn’t have to worry about propriety or appearing weak. 

Aster giggled at this, and Draco blew raspberries on her cheek before kissing her again. She then rallied Draco up to go to the shoreline for a bucket of water. As you watched them walk hand in hand, you felt your heart ache from how overwhelmingly full of love you were. 

Somehow, you found yourself endlessly thankful for the rocky road of fate that had brought you here.

#sundrop writes #draco malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x y/n

[emeritusemeritus]

Call me by your name [Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Reader]

Pairing: FredWeasley x Malfoy!Reader

Timeline: OOTP, reader and twins are in their 7th year.

Summary: Malfoy!Reader had been successfully hiding her secret relationship with Fred Weasley for years. What happens when Fred no longer wants to hide? Cue angsty breakup and makeup fic!

Warnings: Mentions of deatheaters, Umbitch, negative commentary of status and wealth. House divide, negative talk of Slytherins. Abusive parents. Sorry Narcissa, I actually like you. Mentions of arranged marriages, swearing, public declarations of love. DA and inquisitorial squad mentions.

Word count: 3.4k

This came from a wonderful request from my dear @kellyxo1, as always thank you so much for your wonderful request, hope this is okay!🖤

The air in the stuffy old Manor House was unbearably cold and stale, much like the family that resided there. The home of the Malfoy family, much like their surname, was figure of stature and tradition, a paragon of social status that oozed wealth and importance on account of their pure-blood status. Each member of the family had been selected by the sorting hat upon their arrival at Hogwarts to enter into the house of Slytherin, a fact the family was most proud of, another ode to their pure-blood roots and continued beliefs. Every malfoy had followed in the footsteps of the previous generation, marrying into other pure-blood families as to keep the bloodline strong, fraternising with equally powerful families that held the same beliefs, each out to gain and maintain status in the wizarding community.

"He's younger than me!" You shriek, you left arms lifting into the air as you look upon the stiff and unemotional faces of your parents who stand by the edge of your bed, delivering the news.

"Blaise is a fine boy and he shall make a fine husband," your father says, as if he truly believed the words that he was speaking. "He's from a long line of Slytherin's, a good student and a promising young wizard."

"He's a complete twat," you argued, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, completely exasperated by the conversation you were forced to endure with your parents.

"It's only two years difference," your mother says, trying to remain at least diplomatic as your father gave you a thunderous look for your selection of language.

"He's a friend of Draco's! It's archaic and barbaric." You added, trying to express your disgust at the very thought but it was immediately apparent that your parents did not share in your distaste, nor understand it.

"Young lady!" Your father hissed in displeasure, the veins on his head looking fit to burst.

"I just don't understand why I have to marry someone with status," you say, in a calm and somewhat emotionless voice, realising that your emotive reaction was doing no favours here. "I don't understand why I have to be married at all, much less to somewhat that wasn't my choice."

"We want the best for you," your mother adds, her hands clasped in front of her as her gaze flicks between you and your father. It's a blatant lie, a way of manipulating you into following their path but it wouldn't work, not this time.

"Then let me make my own choices," you retort, not meeting their eyes.

"So you can run back to that blood traitor?" Your father all but screams, his temper exploding as he throws his cane, narrowly missing the house elf that was tending to the paintings in the hallway just outside of your door. He storms off in a flurry of black robes, almost growling under his breath as you hear his heavy footsteps marching angrily away.

The mention of Fred makes your stomach roil dangerously, filling you with hatred for your family, for the life you'd been born into. You don’t know how they came to know about your situation, but you detested their use of it against you. The anger dissipates slightly as you watch your mother perch on the side of your bed, hands still folded in her lap as she looks at you with a conflicted expression.

"We just want what's best," your mother repeats but you interject, frustrated by her attempt to keep pushing the matter you were so obviously not open to discussing.

"You had your chance! You chose to marry for money and status," you replied, a harsh tone to your voice that you'd seldom used at your mother.

"I didn't have a choice!" She says, her voice coming out like a hiss as her resolve drops so that you finally see her fraying nerves.

You pause, taking a moment to really see your mother as a young woman that was in your position so many years ago.

"If it's so bad why would you want that for your own daughter?" You ask, trying to appeal to her though your emotional delivery, trying to reach out for that young woman who must have felt exactly how you did right now.

She refuses to meet your eyes, nor answers your question. You realise very quickly that you're getting nowhere and never would. All emotions exit you as you look upon your mother feeling no love or affection, nor receiving any in return.

As you looked upon the vision of your mother and thought of your fathers reaction, you felt an empty void of emotion where love should be. The chasm of happy memories was empty, at least when it came to your family.

Right then you thought of Molly and Arthur, of the whole family and the strong, foundational outpouring of love in which the family was built around. Two people that loved one another deeply, building a life and a family, creating a warm and loving home for their children to thrive in.

They'd be celebrating Christmas right now, with gorgeous homemade food and handmade presents, surrounded by love and laughter and maybe the occasional cross word.

Poor in wealth but rich with love; and you would always chose that over this.

"I refuse to marry Blaise Zabini or any other pure blood suitor you deem acceptable," you say matter of factly, your voice completely void of emotion as you made your point clear. "I'll make my own choices in life. You may not have been strong enough to resist the pressure but I am, I refuse to be forced into a loveless marriage and live out a miserable existence like you."

"You're no daughter of ours," your mother sneers. "No. I'm not."

Later that night, you lay in your dark and dreary bedroom, looking around at the bare, lifeless walls that held no sentiment nor icon of your personality, your life. You thought of Fred and George's bedroom and how cluttered it must be, with all their quidditch memorabilia and Weasley products lying around. They'd have bedspreads that had been knitted for them, fresh sheets that smelt like their home and little trinkets around the room that had been collected throughout their lives. You had none of that, even down to the colourless and scentless sheets on your bed. You thought of Fred often, the boy you loved more than anything in the world. The boy that had seen past your surname and your Slytherin placement and still loved you regardless. He hadn't been prejudiced or hateful, nor had he used you to gain status in the Wizarding community. He simply loved you because he loved you.

Loved.

Memories flashed behind your eyes of happier times, your relationship strengthening over the years until you were completely infatuated with each other, planning your futures in hushed whispers and promising secrets. You could be yourself around Fred, completely unashamed of the things you'd believed for so long to be personal failures and character faults.

You'd been together since your fifth year, unable to deny the attraction any longer. You'd started sneaking around, stolen kisses in the secret passageways, sneaking out after hours, notes slipped into pockets, fingers grazing as you walked past eachother pretending the other didn't exist. You secretly cheered for each and every hit he'd administer on the quidditch pitch, every dive and skilful deflection of the bludger. Though you couldn't cheer or support him outright, you always kept a little something on you in Gryffindor red that you both knew meant that you were there for him.

After a while, you told your small group of friends and Fred told his, including his siblings. There were tensions at first, of course there was, but after seeing how good for each other you were, of how happy you were together, the grievances quickly quietened.

His friends became yours too, a real and honest group of friends that too could rely on, share with and care for in return.

You didn't have to hide anymore, at least not with them. But Slytherins much like their name were mostly all vicious snakes, with sharp tongues and deceitful tendencies. You couldn't let them know, couldn't allow them to spoil the singular good thing you had in your life and so for the most part, your relationship remained hidden to the wider school.

It was exciting at first, rebelling against the restrictive and domineering upbringing you were forced into. You weren't like your parents or Draco, or any members of your family really. You were certainly no deatheater and didn't hold the same disgusting values that they did. Blood trainers, mud bloods, muggleborns or muggles, everyone should have the right to be treated the same, to live their life without fear or prejudice.

Fred knew, he knew you weren't one of them, that you were better, different than your name but also that you couldn't step out of line for fear of the repercussions you'd face. Or at least, you thought he understood.

Your seventh year at Hogwarts, your last. The last hurdle to get through before you could truly be your own person and break away from the chains of being a Malfoy. You had a plan, carefully and slowly formulated for years for the eventual day you'd be your own person and free to make your own choices, leaving your family behind. Your world would gain colour and warmth instead of the cold and monochrome world you felt you loved in. Only, it wouldn't happen now, at least not as you always planned it.

Things had been going so well, you were on track to ace your NEWTS, your relationship with Fred was almost blissful and with everything happening behind the scenes, it kept your parents busy and mostly out of your way. But then it all started to crack when Fred became Fred up of sneaking around, becoming paranoid and suspicious of your true intentions. You'd tried your hardest to squash these intrusive thoughts, to calm his nerves and to show him just exactly how much you wanted him but for so many reasons you couldn't be open about it. He'd face repercussions too, not just you. But he didn't see it that way, said he didn't care, that he just wanted to be able to be in love without having to hide it.

The last nail in the proverbial coffin came when Umbridge turned up and tried imposing her disgusting views upon the students, altering the curriculum and moving in favour of the deatheaters under the guise of ministry control. You'd joined Dumbledore's Army without a scone thought, knowing it was the right thing to do. The only Slytherin who was invited to join, their trust in you appreciated. But then Umbridge had formed the inquisitorial squad and you'd never felt a more painful divide in your life. Your younger brother had proudly joined, sadistically enjoying the power he was bestowed with. The danger of being discovered , found to be a traitor and the consequences of that were almost enough to make you quit the DA, but you persevered with increasingly fraying nerves.

You were stressed, tormented by the divide in your life and the conflicting expectations of you with no outlet to express your frustrations.

So you did what you had to do and fought harder to keep your relationship a secret, to keep the one good thing in your life away from the dementor-like happiness stealing of your family. The Christmas holidays were coming up and your anxiety was peaking at having to spend an extended amount of time away from your boyfriend and friends and have to go back to that dreary manor with your even drearier family. Fred could tell that something was up with you, that you were unhappy, tense and quiet but he never stopped to read between the lines, to see the big picture. Instead, his insecurities began to plague him again until one day you both snapped.

"I just don't understand why we still have to hide!" He says with a frustrated growl, pinching the area between the bridge of his nose and his eyebrows.

"Because I can't be without you!" You say back, voice raising to a dangerous level as you become irritated at having the same conversation over and over again. "If my family find out that's it, they'll force me to stop dating you, lock me away. I'll never be able to leave then."

"So what, I'm just a part of your plan? A stepping stone for you to break away and then as soon as you're free you can throw me away? Thanks for that mate, sorry to using you and all," he mocks, only furthering your anger that you're painfully trying to repress.

"Using you? You think that's what this is? You think you're just a pawn for me, even after two years of loving you?"

"You tell me," he says, eyes dark.

"Unbelievable," you say under your breath, closing your eyes as you take a seat on one of the wooden crates down in the passageway between the staircases and Honeydukes, your regular spot.

"Or are you embarrassed by me, is that it? The poor, scruffy Weasley boy that fell for the rich, beautiful Malfoy. The prophet would have a field day, wonder if they'll make us into a film," he rants, a vicious side appearing in his tone. "The deatheater and the peasant."

"How dare you!" You say, standing up in a fit of rage, squaring up to him like you'd never done before; the insult he'd so readily dished out feeling like a blast to the heart. "I'm no more a death eater than you are you prick! You think I'm embarrassed of you? I think you're ashamed of me, ashamed that you fell for the bad seed, the villain. I think you can't stand that I'm a Malfoy and you know it. My surname bothers you much more than your's bothers me."

"Yeah maybe it does."

Silence. His words are met with sheer silence, except for the pounding of your breaking heart. I'm your worst nightmares you'd never expected those words to fall from his lips, for him to admit the thing you'd been fearing the most since your crush of him started to bloom. You were tainted goods, a person that tried her hardest to be good that would always be haunted and spoiled by her name.

"No, no sweetheart I didn't mean, I don't think that," he began backtracking, realising that he'd gone way too far this time. "It makes me crazy that I can't shout from the bloody roof that you're mine no matter how much I want to. I don't care that you're a... Malfoy," he says, reaching out for you to hold you close, knowing that he was hanging by a thread here.

You're quiet for a moment as you take in his words, unsure of how to proceed.

"Maybe you're right, about it all," you paused. "But if you wanted me to believe all that, you should have said my surname with less disgust."

You turned around walked away, ignoring his calls, barely holding yourself together until you made it back to your dormitory and finally allowing yourself to sob. You should have known you could never be happy, it was ridiculous to think that anyone could ever get past the fact that you were born to be bad.

The week that followed before the holiday was sheer torture. You gathered sympathetic looks front your friends, or rather Fred's friends but were unable to get any actual comfort as you couldn't fraternise with the social enemy.

Fred however, hadn't spared you a single glance since that evening in the tunnel, the fight that had ended your relationship, or so it seemed. He went back to pretending you didn't exist, believing your harsh words all to easily. He'd said things on his side too but you thought, stupidly, that you'd be able to explain that you were simply retaliating. Apparently he wouldn't give you a chance to explain.

"Maybe you're right, about it all."

Those words haunted you, cut you deeper than any splinching ever could. If only you'd pushed down your anger, never said those words, he'd still be yours. But now he wasn't.

Christmas break was miserable, even more so than usual as you sat alone in your bedroom, physically and mentally distanced from any sense of company.

You though of Fred often, wondering what he was up to, wondering if he was happy. You hoped his dad was okay after hearing through the grapevine about his attack. You hoped that even if it was just a little, that he was missing you.

When you got back to school, you were just as miserable and separated from your peers as you were at home. The friendship group you'd built up of good people still have you distanced smiles and sympathetic glances but you felt the distance more than ever. It lasted for a few days before you'd had enough, completely depleted and in need of something good back, you needed Fred. You tried to think of ways to get him alone, to explain but you couldn't think of anything. You sat in the Great Hall, completely separated from your Gryffindor friends and sat between two of the most bearable Slytherins you could find, trying to ignore the boasting and mockery your brother was bestowing a little further up the table.

It makes me crazy that I can't shout from the bloody roof that you're mine no matter how much I want to.

You looked around you, considering your options. It wasn't a rooftop per se, but it would do.

You climbed up on the table, unfazed by the cries of outrage of the people around you as you ascended, trying to be mindful of the plates and glasses on the table. Draco shouts at you to get down, what are you doing, but much like always, you ignore him. The commotion began pulling people's attention towards you but you knew you had to make it quick because the faculty and teachers were starting to notice.

"I have something to say," you said, projecting your voice until you were certain you’d be heard across the hall. “I’ve been hiding something, for so long, something that never should have been hidden in the first place. I was scared and stupid. I’m a Malfoy, a Slytherin… but I’m completely and hopelessly in love with a Gryffindor.” You look up to where Fred is watching you with wide eyes, the first hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Your eyes quickly flick over to George who is beaming at you, enjoying the demented display you were putting on, encouraging you to continue before you lost your nerve.

“Fred Weasley I’ve loved you since that bloody third year Quidditch match when George hit that bludger at Snape and you winked at me for laughing. You told me that we didn’t have to hide, that you’d shout from the rooftops, well this is the best I could do considering.”

Fred makes his way to you quickly, sensing that the teachers were on their way to inevitably punish you.

“You’re bloody insane woman,” he says with a laugh, unfazed by the entire hall watching you as he holds out his hand for you to come down. You smile at him, so happy to see him smile at you again, to hear his voice.

“Y/n Malfoy! Get down, get down! Detention!”

Instead of helping you down, Fred suddenly seizes your hand and uses you to pull himself up until he was also stood on top of the Slytherin table, cackling at the groans of the other slytherins around you.

“Mr Weasley, detention!”

“More time to spend with you,” he shrugs, smiling as he bends down to kiss you wildly in the middle of the hall as cheers erupt around you, making you both laugh into the kiss.

“It really doesn’t bother you that I’m a Malfoy?” You ask, suddenly bothered by what he’d said before as you pull away slightly. His hand holds your cheek as he smirks, shrugging his shoulders.

“Not gonna be a Malfoy for much longer, I plan on making you a Weasley as soon as possible.”

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[dracoxsworld]

ARRANGED - Draco M. x Reader PART ONE | “She’ll Do”

You brush your soft hair. Apply a beautiful red shade of lipstick on your even softer lips. You look at yourself in your vanity, the vanity your father built with you when you turned sixteen. You smile at the memory.

Sixteen. Life was so much more simpler, you didn't have the worried you have today at 18. It's crazy how much changes in two years. You take a deep breath in. Today was the day you had been dreading. You and your family are a pure-blood family, and your family intends to keep it that way. Everyone knows your family, everyone. Meaning you have an impossibly high expectation to meet; marry someone you simply don't love. Because you're already in love with someone. Sadly, they don't meet your family's standards. He's half-blooded. You've fought with your parents, multiple times.

"But dad, I love Nicholas!" You beg. Tears burning in your eyes. "Y/N you know how this works. There will be no more arguing. Nicholas is a mud blood."

Mud blood. That's a word that's often thrown around in conversations in your household. Most witches and wizards today will turn in your direction in disbelief/disgust when it's used. But your family doesn't care.

You finish with the rest of your makeup. Today you were going to meet your future husband. The one that's been arranged and assigned to you. Your eyes gaze to an old photograph of you and Nicholas, at the Yule Ball. Tears form in your eyes again. You pick up the photograph gently with your fingers, handling it like fragile glass.

"I promise, Y/N. I will wait for you." Nicholas said, smiling faintly. You couldn't even look him in the eye when your parents refused to let him marry you, and the news broke out about your arranged marriage. "Nicholas, I am so sorry." You sob out. "Hey," he says softly, his hand rubbing your shoulder, the other gently grabbing your chin pulling your face in the direction of him. "It will be okay, Y/N. I love you, we will make it through this." He consoles you.

Nicholas promised you that you’d both somehow figure out a way to be together. You wanted to show him that you were hopeful, but deep down you were aware of what your family is capable of.

Not just your family, but the family you’re being married into. The Malfoy’s. You were marrying their son, Draco.

You and Draco had attended Hogwarts together, the same house, same classes, played Quidditch together on the Slytherin team, but no matter how much coincidental time you spent together; your beliefs could never be the same.

“Y/N, imagine how disappointed your father would be with you if he knew you were still dating that foul mud blood, Nicholas.” Draco would tease you as he saw you and Nicholas holding hands walking down the hall. “Well, you make your father disappointed without even trying, don’t you, Malfoy?” Nicholas would spit back. “Nicholas, he’s not worth it.” You’d whisper.

“Y/N! Are you ready?” You heard your mother call. Almost time. “Almost!” You call back. “Well hurry up, you can’t take all day!”

You sigh. You finish your hair by putting it up in an elegant bun with a hair clip uncreated with diamonds, and added hair spray for support. Your dress was long, and elegant. Dark green with lace around her neck line. Your collar bones poked out with your long necklace in the middle, that matches your hair clip. You were ready, for the worst day of your life.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

You come down the steps of in your opinion, oversized house. Your mom greets you at the bottom. She gasps and he hand covers her mouth. “Oh Y/N.. You look beautiful. Draco will simply melt when he sees you.”

“Gross.” Your mutter in annoyance. “Melvins Beard, Y/N get over yourself! This is for the good of not only the family, but you!” Your mother stressed. “For me? I have already found the love of my life! But he didn’t fit your standards! So I am being forced to marry someone I have no interest in even being friends with!” You blurt out. Your mother just stares at you. If smoke could burst out of her ears, it would.

“Y/N. This is how our family works. This is your life. You were born into the family, and this is the life and rules you live by as a member of this family. Your father and I were arranged.”

“And how did that turn out? You’re both home together all the time but don’t say a single word to each other! You have nothing in common.”

“We created you. We continued to build the empire together. We love each other.” Your mother insisted.

“You’re in denial.” You said finally.

You and your mother left your manor to meet your father, who had already arrived at the Malfoys. "Y/N, before we go in there, please develop an open mind." Your mother said while gently grabbing your hand. "Me have an open mind?" You responded. "I told you the love of my life, and he wasn't good enough for YOU." you say with a harsh tone. Without giving her the chance to respond, you left the car. You walk up to the Malfoy manner. It is so gloomy, almost like a dark cloud is hanging above it. The whole exterior is a pitch black color, the gate to the manor looks terrifying, like the house where you'd accidentally kick your ball into the yard, and wouldn't dare to get it back.

You take a deep breath. Apart of you was scared, another was angry. Either emotion was to not to be shown. A guard goes up to the gate.

"Name?" The man asks, his face covered with his hood. All you can see is his goatee that comes to a point.

"Y/F/N." You huff out, crossing your arms from the cold.

"Congratulations on the marriage, future Mrs. Malfoy." The guard says to you, his yellowing teeth form into a smile. You roll your eyes. The guard opens the gate for you, allowing you to enter. You walk up to the manor, down a long runway. Each side were tall hedges, to hide whatever they hid around their home. You could feel anxiety bubbling in your stomach. You know Voldemort would hide out here from time to time. Yes, the one who shall not be named, has probably walked down the same runway you are right now.

You arrive to the Malfoy’s front door, and knock. Narcissa answers and smiles. “Y/N. The pleasure is mine; welcome to our home.” She said gracefully. Admittedly, Narcissa was beautiful. Her white and black hair, strategically done up together. He bright red lips pop against her pale white skin. “Thank you madam.” You said, bowing at her. You enter in the manor.

“I’ve been told you’re not a fan of the arrangement.” Narcissa says simply, closing the door behind you, then turning towards you.

You sigh. You’re tired of explaining yourself to people who won’t listen. “It’s nothing against Draco personally, but Narcissa- I’ve already met my love.”

“Y/N, how are your parents? They were arranged I’m sure you know.” Narcissa asked, faintly smiling at you.

“They don’t talk. They don’t love each other, married for blood status.” You explained.

“Yes, you see, me and Lucius are the opposite. We love each other. We married for blood status. We were arranged,” Narcissa started. “Correct me if I am wrong, but even when people marry the person they ‘love’ they still divorce, and Lucius and I are an example of an arranged marriage that has turned out lovely.”

You stare at Narcissa. Nothing she said really made you feel better; nor make sense. “Mrs. Malfoy. You and Lucius have the same beliefs, same meaning of life, everything. Draco and I have nothing in common-“

“Did someone say my name?” A voice from the half to the right of you calls. You and Narcissa turn towards the direction of the voice. Draco Malfoy himself comes out of the hall. He stops to look at you, does not react, and continues to walk towards you.

“I guess she’ll do, mother.” He said matter of factly. Narcissa narrowed her eyes at her blonde haired son. “Of course she’ll do, Draco. She’s beautiful.” Draco shrugged.

You scoffed. “I did not spend hours getting ready for a man who I have no interest in marrying just for you to say ‘she’ll do.’” You spit at him.

“She’s sassy.” Draco said, ignoring you. “On we go then,” he added, motioning for you both to follow him to the ball room. Your jaw dropped as you watched him walk off. “Ignore him, he’s not a morning person.” Narcissa said nervously. “Let’s go, dear.” She said after a moment, putting her arm around yours.

You and Narcissa arrive in the ballroom. Lucius and your father are talking near the Malfoy’s thrones. Your father looks at you; and smiles. Your expression doesn’t change from your blank one.

Draco turned around, facing you. He held his hand out, as an offer. You take a deep breath and take it.

He brings you close. “Meet me in the dining area in 10 minutes.” He whispers. You look at him with an eyebrow raised. He gives you a smug look. “Don’t worry darling, I’m not interested in you like that quite yet.” He said, as if he was reading your mind.

“Y/N. Come see Lucius, and where is your mother?” Your father asks. You shrug, and walk up to the men. “I’m not sure, I left her in the car, I’m sure she’ll be here in a moment.” You say, then turn to Lucius. You bow. “Mr.Malfoy.” you greet him.

“Y/N. It’s a pleasure, my dear.” He says in his monotone voice. “Draco is a lucky man, I must say.” Lucius says, eyeing you up and down. You suddenly feel yourself stepping closer to your father. “Yes, she looks just like her mother.” Your dad says nervously. His hand protectively lands on your shoulder.

“You’ll be staying with the Malfoy’s after the wedding, Y/N. Learning how they live; then hopefully, you and Draco will be able to live on your own.” Your father explained to you. You nodded. “You’ll have a choice of our many manors, Y/N. Although, I’m sure Draco already has one in mind that he’s picked.” Lucius added.

“This is crazy. I don’t even want to be in the same room as anybody from the Malfoy family. And now I’ll have to live with them? Nobody told me.” You thought. You then suddenly remember your meeting with Draco. “If you two gentlemen will excuse me, I need to use the ladies room.” You say, smiling at them both. They both nod, and you go off to find the kitchen.

It took a while, but you found it. Draco, dressed in an all black suit with a slytherin pin, his platinum blonde hair, leaning against the counter.

“You’re late.”

#draco malfoy smut #dating draco malfoy #draco fic #draco malfoy #draco angst #draco arranged #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #draco x reader smut #draco x y/n #draco #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy masterlist #draco lucius malfoy

[the-desilittle-bird]

Tag List Registration

Requests are always open and well appreciated.

So, if anyone wishes to Request something for the characters and celebrities mentioned below, feel free to go.

Daemon Targaryen

Oneshots

Realm's Desire

Honour of our House (Sequel to Realm's Desire)

The Present as It Is (Sequel to Honour of our House)

Dreams and Dragons

Dancing with Dragons

Never Yours

In The Stories

Blessings of the Goddess

In the Silence

The Dragon of North (Sequel to Never Yours)

False Accusations

For Your Sake

For Them

Without Him

Aemond Targaryen

Oneshots

Not in Our Destiny

In the Darks of Night (Sequel to Not in Our Destiny)

Rage of a Mother

The Crimson Lady

The Crimson Queen (Sequel to Crimson Lady)

Twisted Feelings

Twisted Love (Sequel to Twisted Feelings)

Beloved Sister (Platonic! Also, Aegon x Reader)

Fire of Desire

You Love Me Right?

Headcanons

Being Rhaenyra's Daughter and taking Aemond's Eye Part 2

Being Reborn in Wizarding World with Aemond

Series

The White Dragon (Also, Cregan x reader)

Cregan Stark

Series

The White Dragon (Also, Aemond x reader)

Oneshots

The Dragon of North (Sequel to Never )

Headcanons

Being Cregan Stark's Young Wife Would Include

Aegon II Targaryen (Only on Request)

Oneshots

For A Better Future

My Gorgeous Princess

Beloved Sister (Platonic! Also, Aemond x Reader)

Helaena Targaryen (Only on Request)

Oneshots

Ecliptic Wedding

Preferences

First Meeting

Being in an Arranged Marriage

Defending Your Honor

You are a Foreign Delegate

Tony Stark

A Woman of a Kind

Steve Rogers

Thor Odinson

Loki Laufeyson

Peculiar Thing

Doctor Stephen Strange

Bucky Barnes

Broken Beings

T'Challa Udaku

Something New

Carlisle Cullen

Marry Me

Edward Cullen

Jasper Hale

Under the Moon

Aro Volturi

Marcus Volturi

Caius Volturi

Demetri Volturi

Benjamin

Draco Malfoy

The Kiss of the Dark

Tom Riddle

Percival Graves

Albus Dumbledore

The Fate Awaits (Sister!Reader)

Grieving the Dead (Sequel to The Fate Awaits)

Gellert Grindelwald

The Fate Awaits (Wife!Reader)

Grieving the Dead (Sequel to The Fate Awaits)

Aleksander Morovoza

Nikolai Lantsov

Robert Downey Jr.

Chris Evans

Is Air Conditioner Working?

Tom Hiddleston

Beautiful yet Broken Doll

Crazy Cravings

Matt Smith

Indian Dinner

Robert Pattinson

Rami Malek

Sebastian Stan

Mistakes Are Common

Tom Felton

The Harry Potter Reunion

Ram Charan

Ben Barnes

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[averagewriter-inthedark]

Me & The Devil P.2 🌘| Harry Potter Imagine

takes place during HBP & DH1

Part 1 here | HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: death, violence, profanity, angst, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested yes/no

Premise: A dark storm is brewing over Hogwarts. The return of Voldemort and his Death Eaters spark unease in the Golden Trio. For a certain member of the Noble House of Black, she takes on a new role of double agent with the partnership between her and a certain Hogwarts professor. Will she survive the ordeal and get her freedom when it's all over? The odds are slim when acting as a loyal servant and hunted by aurors.

Note: Snape is 37 in this like the books and reader is 31. Part 3 will be the final chapter to this miniseries but I have no idea when it will be posted. Hope y’all like this one! Also near the end the final scenes are inspired by Wanda in MOM so yeah that belongs to Marvel

——————-

Months went by. Waiting. Scheming. Y/n felt her mind deteriorate by the day. Between Bellatrix’s constant complaints of Draco’s failures and Narcissa’s moping, Y/n spent most of her time in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Hidden away to perfect her spells and create new ones. She even managed to successfully become an animagus. 

A black crow.

How fitting.

At times Y/n found herself sitting in front of the window. Especially when it rained. The lightning in the distance, the crisp air filling the attic walls. Lost in her thoughts, Y/n would caress the silver jewelry laid on her left ring finger. 

Once a month she’d receive a letter from Severus, unbeknownst to the others, detailing Draco’s attempts and all the times Snape’s had to cover for him. As part of their deal to keep quiet of the others' disloyalty and motives behind actions, Snape agreed to update her on Draco and keep the Order off Y/n’s trail. For Y/n’s side of the bargain, she agreed to deflect suspicion on him from their fellow Death Eaters. Specifically her sisters.

And what better way to do that then in holy matrimony.

“You want to get married?” she scoffed, placing her wine glass on the coaster. Having left with her sisters following the unbreakable vow, Y/n returned later that night after Severus sent an owl. Sitting in the same leather chair from before, “You humor me.”

“I can assure you I am everything but comical, Y/n,” he drawled, standing by the fireplace. The sound of wood crackling filled the room. “This is not an arrangement I suggest lightly.”

Seeing how serious he was, Y/n’s demeanor changed. “Wow,” her tone lowered, finger raising to tap her lips. Unable to read her mind since she was a gifted Occulmens like himself, Snape was left to wonder what Y/n was thinking. Truth be told the woman was more impressed than shocked by his proposal. “I think that’s the first time I’ve been rendered speechless, Severus.” Standing, Y/n grabbed her glass and approached the man. “You truly believe this would work? Proposing a marriage between us….” she trailed, glancing at the fire briefly, “is intriguing. Tell me more.”

Snape’s expression remained the same, “It is simply a matter of convenience.” No need to sugar coat it, “We want to keep our secrets hidden. So long as you can assure your sisters stay off my back…..I’ll make sure the Order stays off yours. We play the part of a happy married couple when operating business with the Dark Lord, and I will do everything in my power to get your freedom when this all ends.” 

Y/n liked what she was hearing. The more she thought about it, the more engrossed she became. Marrying Snape wasn’t ideal--as the concept itself she did not care for--but Y/n could not deny the idea made her curious. Plus Severus was handsome, a talented wizard, and obviously, he knew her motives for following Voldemort. What her end goal was. She needed to keep him close. 

“I think I’ll find playing the part of a smitten wife will be rather easy,” she rasped, stepping closer to Snape so their chests were nearly touching. Walking her fingertips up the length of his arm, Y/n leaned closer to Snape which ignited a sharp breath from the man. She smelled of expensive perfume. Their closeness allowed him to see how her eyes turned from their usual coldness to something more lustful. Almost sinister. His reaction made her smirk, “Confident you can manage the same….husband?” 

Now, almost a year later, the two managed to successfully keep their union hidden from the Order. All while any suspicion the Death Eaters had of Snape seemed to disappear. Bellatrix, initially furious and doubtful of their ‘relationship’, soon began to trust him. Still, the witch grimaced each time the pair greeted the other with an affectionate kiss. Or when Y/n took claim to Snape’s lap during meetings. An action which surprised the man himself in the beginning.

Each letter Severus sent was met with one in return, however Y/n was careful to only send her owl in the late hours of the night. When her family was sound asleep. Signing the parchment with only her initials, but instead of B as the ending initial it was S. She’d never admit it aloud, but Y/n felt a sense of comfort with Severus. There was an overwhelming amount of hate in her heart, but the pinch of sanity left in her soul connected to him. Which is not a surprise. He is, of course, the only person who can relate to her. 

Neither would call it love. Y/n possessed no love. And Snape lost his when Lily died. They had mutual respect and care for each other as their partnership grew. Finding the other’s presence calm despite the world around them going to shit. 

The news of Draco’s success in connecting the two cabinets came from Bellatrix’s glee, the woman bursting into the attic with a loud, “It’s time, sister.” Reluctantly, Y/n trailed Bellatrix to Knockturn Alley, where they met several of their associates. 

Dark clouds painted the sky. Thunder rumbling. It set the tone of the evening. 

Y/n stayed stoic the entire journey. Hating every minute, yet doing nothing to escape. Where could she even go? The mark on her arm prevented her from doing so. Until Voldemort was defeated, the only way for her to stay alive was to continue the act of a loyal servant. 

Draco was gone when the group breached the cabinet in a cloud of black smoke. The boy rushed to find Dumbledore and complete his task. He found the man on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower. Unaware his longtime rival, Harry Potter, was below him, watching the scene play out. 

The others arrived to witness Draco complete the task, however, in the end Snape was the one to administer the curse. And so the greatest wizard in history fell from the sky. 

Y/n kept her eyes on Severus the entire time. Watching his reaction. When he went through with the unthinkable, Y/n wasted no time in rushing to his side. Cupping his face, she noticed the dissociative expression Snape wore. Mind processing what he had done. “Severus,” he didn’t respond, making her shake his shoulders, “look at me.” Finally he meets her eye and the woman matches his anxious demeanor. “We have to go. Now.” 

Clutching his robe, the two push Draco in the direction of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix’s maniacal laughter rings as she shoots a spell into the sky to bring forth the Dark Lord’s symbol in the clouds. Not long after the tower was surrounded by members of the Order, ensuing a battle between the groups. Y/n tried to avoid dueling as much as possible. Not wanting to harm anyone, especially the kids in the school. 

Cutting the corner after dodging a spell from her niece Nymphadora, Y/n spotted the wretched Fenrir Greyback attacking a man she didn’t recognize. Judging by the wild red hair he possessed, she assumed it was a Weasley. Greyback’s back was toward her, unaware she stood behind him. From the looks of it, the redhead was losing the fight. 

Not sure what came over her at that moment, Y/n raised her wand and shouted, “Stupefy!” The werewolf was flung into the wall behind him, falling unconscious. 

“Bill!” a voice screamed, Y/n turning to see a young woman running to where the Weasley laid. Bloodied and knocked out. Fluer dropped beside him, sobbing at the state of her fiance. She glanced up to see Y/n, immediately becoming frozen with fear while pleading with her to help. “Y-you--H-he’s been--.”

Cursing to herself, Y/n approached the two. “He wasn’t bit,” adjusting her dress skirt, she grabbed the cuffs of Bill’s jacket and gestured for Fluer to help. Together they moved him to a concealed area away from the battle. “He’s been scratched.” Having studied werewolves while in school, the woman was well educated on the subject. Muttering a healing spell, Y/n attempted to at least stop the bleeding, however, she knew the extent of his injuries were serious. “Nevertheless, the wounds are cursed. They’ll scar.” 

Fluer watched her carefully, “W-why are you helping us?” Y/n gave no answer, instead casting a final healing spell before standing up to leave. In her peripheral vision, she noticed movement from Greyback, and sent a second stun his way to keep him unconscious. She always hated him, so it gave her great pleasure to pu thim down. 

Truth be told Y/n didn’t know why she helped the injured Weasley. It would have best suited her to get the hell out of there and let whatever outcome happen. Whether that be Greyback killing the man or Bill successfully overpowering the werewolf. But instead, she cursed her associate. Saving the life of ‘the enemy’. 

Several agonizing minutes passed before Y/n managed to escape the tower. At Snape’s order, she ran deep into the forest until she was far enough to apparate. Back at the manor she was immediately questioned by her sister.

“Is Draco okay,” Narcissa grabbed Y/n’s wrist to stop her from escaping to the attic. Eyes glossy with tears, “Did he--.”

“Your son is fine, Narcissa,” she roughly pulled away. “You have my husband to thank for that--he finished the job.” There was immediate relief from Narcissa, exhaling the breath she had been holding. Y/n went straight to the liquor cabinent, taking a glass and pouring a generous amount before downing it. She then refilled the glass, offering it to her sister without a word. Once Narcissa took it Y/n kept the bottle for herself, saying nothing more as she made her way to the attic. 

It wasn’t long before the others arrived. Y/n heard Narcissa’s cry of relief upon seeing Draco. Bellatrix was busy scolding Greyback--something that brought a smile to her face. Other murmurs were made out, but hard to identify with all the noise. Moments later she heard the fast approaching sound of footsteps nearing her door. Jolting from her bed with her wand raised at whoever was about to breach it. Only when it was revealed to be Severus did Y/n lower her guard, rolling her eyes, “What have I told you about--.”

Snape slammed the door shut, muttering a silencing charm which caused Y/n to raise her brow. “We need to talk.” Her guarded expression returned, but Snape beat her before she could question him. “I know you stunned the werewolf to save Weasley.” All movement from the woment seized, frozen in shock.

“How do you know--.”

“I saw you with Miss. Delacour, Y/n,” Snape peers down at her with visible frustration. “Why would you risk such a thing? If you had been caught--.”

“But I wasn’t, Severus,” she interrupts, eyes flicking to the door in fear someone was listening, but then she remembered the spell he cast. “I was careful. You should know better than to underestimate me. And to answer your question….” she turned away from him, hands on her hips as she turned her focus to the woods beyond her window. “I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did--It just happened. Maybe it’s the fact the Weasley’s are distant family. Or because I fucking hate Greyback.” She throws her hands up in defeat,  “Or I want the Order to have all its members to better their chances at winning this damn war. Maybe…” her hands fall back to her sides, “deep down there’s some humanity left in me.” The words were so low it was barely a whisper. Y/n shook her head, the speck of softness replaced with disinterest. 

“Whatever it was,” turning back to him, Y/n narrows her eyes in warning. “It’s no longer our concern. Dumbledore is dead, you killed him.” footsteps echo against the wood as she approaches Snape, noticing his expression change at the mention of the headmaster. “He will be plotting his next move. We need to remain focused--I expect his attention will be on us more now given the circumstances.” 

Snape knows she’s right. Killing Albus only shined a spotlight on him, and in turn on Y/n. He was now labeled public enemy #1 in the eyes of the Order. Voldemort himself will likely turn to Snape. They will have to up their game, continuing the act of a happy couple. Well happy as one can be in the middle of a war. 

That summer was endless torture following the Headmaster’s death. Y/n not only had to deal with Voldemort growing stronger, but also the return of Lucius from Azkaban. It did bring the witch great joy to see the dark circles beneath his eyes and matted hair. One year in prison did a number on him. 

Lucky for Lucius it was only one year. Had it been 15 like Y/n, he’d surely gone mad. Thankfully the two rarely saw each other. Not long after his release following Dumbledore’s death Y/n moved into Severus' home. Only returning to the mansion when necessary. 

At every Death Eater meeting Y/n had to fight yawning with how bored she was, keeping her expression blank even when addressed by Voldermort from time to time. The man wasn’t blind. Well aware the youngest Black was not as forthcoming with her praises to him like Bellatrix. Never voicing her opinions, while also keeping any objections to herself like a smart person would do. He never fully trusted her. Even though she was married to one of his most trusted advisors, something in the back of his mind told Voldemort she’d be the first to turn on him. Without proof, Voldemort kept a close eye.

The meeting tonight was just like any other. Seated at the massive dining table in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort at the head while the Black’s and Malfoy’s flanked to the right. Y/n seated beside Draco, far from her sisters. Very telling of her attitude towards them.

Severus was the last to arrive, dark cloak tailing behind him. His entrance caught everyone’s attention, while his was on his colleague hanging in the air. Muggle studies professor Charity Burbage. The wounds on her body indicated she had been subjected to torture. 

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted, “I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come. We’ve saved you a seat.” The headmaster took claim to the only free chair at the table, bidding a look to his wife, to which she slightly shook her head. Silently saying, “I had no part in this.”

Voldemort then said, “Do you bring news, I trust?”

“It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall.”

“I’ve heard differently, my Lord,” Yaxley interrupted at the other end of the table, then proceeds to say he believes Harry will be moved at the end of the month. The 30th of July. The day before his 17th birthday.

“This is a false trail,” Snape insists. “The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. “Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

The Death Eater seated beside Y/n laughed, “Well, they got that right aren’t they.” Several at the table joined in the laughter. The youngest Black’s expression was tight, plastered with annoyance. 

“What’s say you, Pius?” Voldemort addresses the man seated at the opposite head of the table. 

Nagini curled herself next to the chair as he answered, “One hears many things, my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” Voldemort chuckles.

“Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius.” The Death Eater appears pleased by the compliment. Voldemort turns back to Snape, “Where will he be taken, the boy?”

“To a safe house. Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible, once there it will be impractical to attack him.”

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Bellatrix. “My Lord, I’d like to volunteer myself for this task.” She leans against the table, voice dropping, “I want to kill the boy.”

“Of course you would,” Y/n thinks to herself, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. Frankly she found her sister to be stupid to ask such a thing. Considering Voldemort mentions his desire to kill Harry Potter everyday. And with the prophecy, there’s no way he’d allow anyone else the opportunity to do the deed. 

In the back, Charity let out a haunting groan, causing Voldermort to shout, “Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest’s quiet?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the man spoke with urgency. “Right away, my Lord.” As he scurried off, Voldemort returned his attention to Bellatrix. 

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix,” the hope was clear in her eyes, disappearing with his next words. “I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” With that she curled back into her seat, Y/n’s lips raising in a satisfied smirk.

“But,” he rises from his chair, “I face an unfortunate complication.” As much as Y/n wanted to tune out this conversation, the nature of it was hard to dismiss. Especiall when the man walked behind the chairs on her side of the table. Brushing past her sisters before ending beside Lucius. There was satisfaction seeing him visibly afraid of Voldemort. A smirk on her lips when he was to give up his wand, a wizard’s most prized possession.

Her expression shifted when Charity’s brought to the center of the table. Death Eaters laughing at her despair and cringing with disgust at her profession. Y/n moves her gaze to Severus, who’s emotionless to Charity’s pleas. Then when the woman’s killed and her body drops to the table, Y/n lifts her hand to grasp Draco’s wrist. Squeezing it in warning for him to control himself when she sees his distraught state in the corner of her eyes. 

The action surprises the boy. Draco sucking in a breath and forcing himself to relax. Once he does, Y/n removes her touch and waits to be dismissed by Voldemort. As soon as the order is given she’s quick to leave the table, taking Snape’s outstretched hand where he apparates them back home. 

“How do you plan--?” he doesn’t let her finish the question.

“I have it covered.” Moving to his study, he hears her footsteps behind him, Y/n slamming the door shut once they’ve entered. He looked annoyed, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” she shouted, making him clench his jaw. Ever since the incident at the Astronomy tower the two had been on edge with each other. For one, the Order discovered their marriage causing Y/n to lose her shit. Now she was public enemy #2 in their eyes. Or 3 if you count Voldermort at the top. Her odds of the Order leaving her the fuck alone decreased immensly. 

Second, Snape told her of his and Dumbledore’s arrangement. That the headmaster asked Snape to kill him. A secret Y/n had trouble wrapping her head around and prayed to a higher power no one, especially Bellatrix, found out about. 

Crossing over to him where he stood at his desk, Y/n caught his wrist to make him look at her. “In case you have forgotten, dear husband, we are playing both sides right now. You say you want to protect Harry Potter…just how do you plan to do that during an ambush you helped orchestrate? What the hell are we supposed to do if Harry Potter dies at his hands Saturday next?” Y/n squeezed his wrist tighter, “I’m putting all my trust into Severus Snape. You promised me my freedom when this was all over.” 

“I haven’t forgotten, Y/n,” he removes himself from her grip, “You say you trust me. Do so, and you won’t be let down.”

Y/n didn’t know where it all went wrong. One moment she was flying in the sky, the next she’s being rammed into by Bill Weasley’s Thestral. Pain erupted in her chest, likely from a broken rib and caught herself on the creature's satchel. Her hand is then grabbed by the imposter Harry seated behind Bill, keeping Y/n steady to prevent falling to her death. Using her talent of legitimins, Y/n identifies the imposter as Bill’s fiance Fluer. 

“You’re not Harry Potter,” she whispers, causing Harry (Fluer) to widen her eyes. The accusation was confirmed when Fluer’s voice responded, “How did you know?” Before Y/n could answer, however, the world around her became black. Having been stunned by Bill who realized what was happening behind him.  

Acting fast, Fluer reached with her other hand to further grasp Y/n’s now limp body onto the Thestral. 

“What are you doing?” Bill shouted over the chaos, “She’s one of them!”

“And she saved your life in the Astronomy tower, William!” Fluer screamed back. Using all her might, she hauled Y/n over the bottom half of the creature. Gripping the material of her robes and dress while ducking at the incoming curses around them. 

When they finally made it to the Burrow, the shaky landing caused Fluer to lose her hold. Y/n fell to the ground, still unconscious. Bruises were sure to form on her body. Bill leaped off the Thestral, helped Fluer off and rushed to Y/n. After confirming she was alive by pressing his fingers to her pulse, the oldest Weasley took the death eater into his arms and followed Fluer into the house. But not before telling Fluer to take her wand which had been discarded into a ditch.

“Wait here,” he said, placing Y/n in the care of Fluer by setting her on a bench outside the door, Bill entered to find the others gathered around an injured George. After the shock wore off of his brother’s state, Bill announced the death of Mad-eye and departure of Mundungus. Deepening the already intense mood.

“There’s something else,” he hesitated, eyes flickering to find everyone staring at him with unease. They watched Bill exit the house, only to return a second later dragging the last person they ever expected. Gasps rang out, wands drawn in Y/n’s direction. The witch barely conscious but fighting against Bill’s hold. Eventually succumbing to sleep once again due to the pounding in her head. 

With the help of Remus, the two propped Y/n in a chair, casting a spell to bind her hands and legs. “Where’s her wand?” Remus urgently looked around, relieved to see the object in Fluer’s possession. He turned to Bill, “What the hell happened?”

As the oldest Weasley explained, Molly approached the woman, assessing her carefully. Y/n had dirt and grime in her hair. A small cut to her temple. Likely from a rock when she fell from the Threstral. Her breathing was shaky, pained groans escaping her mouth which Molly assumed was from trauma to her chest. Although the others were against it, Molly began performing healing spells on Y/n, “Had it not been for her my son would be dead! I do not care what side she is on--I shall offer the same courtesy.” 

The group was alerted to Y/n’s consciousness twenty minutes later when she groaned. Shifting in the chair, her eyelids fluttered briefly before opening to bright lights. Moaning, Y/n straightened up aware of the audience in front of her, however she did not appear concerned. Even with several wands pointing at her. “Hmmmph,” she blinks a few times, settling her gaze on Remus, “what an unpleasant situation we have here. I hoped to be dead before experiencing this.”

It pained Remus to hear her words. Thinking back to that little girl he’d met on the corner of Diagon Alley with James, perched on Sirius’ hip. That little girl was gone. In her place was a woman with the Devil on her shoulder. “We don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.”

Tilting her head as though she found his statement funny, she replies “Is that supposed to make me feel at ease?” rolling her eyes she adds, “Surely you could’ve come up with something better.”

Remus sighed, realizing it was about to be a long night. “We’re willing to negotiate terms if you provide us with information. A lesser sentence if you will,” he chose his next words carefully, seeing her demenor shift, “so long as you are upfront and answer all of our questions with honesty.” Y/n’s face tightened, no longer humored. Remus felt his stomach lurch, not breaking the intense eye contact she set with him.

“You threaten me--.”

“It’s not a threat--,” he insists but Y/n continues.

“With a cell in Azkaban and expect me to comply? By being a snitch?” she shakes her head, eyes full of fury. “Go to hell, Remus Lupin.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh?” She grumbles with a glare, “and how else do you suggest it be? I’m not stupid--a tad mad if we want to get technical, but you all have yourselves to blame for that.” Y/n was referring to the Order not taking her in during the First Wizarding War. Sirius warned them of his family and the Death Eaters recruiting her at a young age. Yet no attempt to protect Y/n was initiated. 

The werewolf’s face fell, “Had we known--.”

“Known what?!” She jumped forward in her chair as the dam of pent up resentment and anger broke, making several flinch at the sudden movement. A few wands pointed up but she paid them no mind. “That I’d become a Death Eater against my will? That I’d be forced to use the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottoms or face my sister’s wrath?” She spat with ferocity. Pupils nearly pitch black it made her appear demonic. “You knew what my family was like! Sirius knew--It’s why he left! And you did nothing to save me.” Leaning back in the chair, Y/n finished with, “Go ahead and kill me. I’m not telling you shit.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair, his patience running thin and stress levels rising. “Y/n, I’m trying to help you here. We’re giving you the opportunity to avoid a lifetime in jail if you help us--help us end this war.” When his efforts are exhausted Remus gestures to the man behind him, “Kingsley has Veritaserum and we will use it if necessary.”  Now this has her smirking, chin raising in challenge. 

“Go ahead,” her voice lowers an octave, sending chills along his arms, “I welcome you to.” Weary of her acceptance, the adult members of the Order all exchange looks before Kingsley approaches. Y/n tilts her head back, watching Kingsley unscrew the vial and pour the tiny amount of liquid onto her tongue. Once it’s entered her stream, the woman cracks her neck and returns her attention to Remus. 

He clasped his hands in his lap, leaning in his chair. “How’d you know about tonight?”

Y/n pretends to think, “I think I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Yeah,” she nods her head, acting serious. “That was it.” 

Remus’s own head falls to his chest, the others visibly confused. The potion was to make her tell the truth. Pretty much against her will. Thinking it may have not settled in yet, Remus asks another question. “Who told him we were moving Harry?” 

Deciding to play along, Y/n shrugs her shoulders, “Yaxley.” Lie. She held back a chuckle at his confused reaction.

“How did he know?”

“Overheard it.” Lie.

“Where?”

“Diagon Alley I assume.” Lie.

“From who?”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

“But he’s the one who told Voldemort.” Y/n rolled her eyes at that, gesturing to her binded hands.

“Obviously since we’re sitting in this predicament.” She sees the frustration on Remus, as well as the others. Yet, the witch couldn’t help but feel entertained. “Anything else?”

“What’s your relationship to Severus Snape?” 

“He’s my husband,” She didn’t miss the way the Order reacted to the news. Upset but not surprised. No point in lying. They already knew about their marriage from what Snape told her. The truth of why, however, was still a secret. 

“Why did he kill Dumbledore?” Harry stepped forward, drawing her attention to him. Anger was written all over his face. Filled with absolute hatred. Something Y/n had expected when her husband murdered the man he looked up to. 

“You were there, right?” she asked, head tilting with curiosity. “Snape mentioned you’d been below the observatory deck.” Tsking, Y/n surveyed him. She was getting under his skin. “Why do you think he did it?”

“I think he did it to save himself. He was a coward,” Harry saw the way her face tightened. Taking offense to his words. A mere speck of what someone could label as affection or respect to her spouse. 

“Severus Snape is many things,” she sounded sinister, anger seeping off every word. “But a coward is not one of them.”

“Fat lot of good coming from you.” Harry antagonized her. “You hightailed it out of the ministry when Sirius died. He was your own cousin.”

“My cousin who left me a sitting duck for the wolves,” Y/n reminded the boy, temper rising. An indicator with how her voice was strained. “Let’s not forget you all thought he was responsible for betraying your parents. Didn’t even hesitate to believe he was guilty.” That cut them all deep. “And I adored Sirius at one point in life. Much like you, Harry Potter,” she let out a deep sigh, attempting to calm herself, “look at where it got me.” Exhaustion was beginning to take over the witch. Her body ached and there was a pounding in her head. Molly’s healing spells worked to patch any internal injuries Y/n had, but she still was drained from the whole ordeal. 

They were getting off track. Having had enough of the tension, Remus butted in, “Answer the question, Y/n. Why did Snape kill Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know,” she simply stated. Lie. “He didn’t say. Although…I can only assume it was to spare my poor nephew.” Another shrug, “And survive the unbreakable vow. Which you already know of.” 

Harry shook his head, “I don’t believe you.” His gut was telling him there was more to the story. 

“Harry, she took the Veritaserum,” Hermoine pointed out gently, missing the flicker of amusement from Y/n. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Hermoine’s right, Harry,” Ron agreed, moving beside his friend. “There’s no way she could be lying.”

“How much did you give her, Kingsley?” Arthur questioned, also suspicious of Y/n’s answers. Kingsley held up the vial. More than half was consumed.

“Enough.”

“Something’s off,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. A bickering match ensued between members of the Order. Harry, Arthur, and even Y/n’s niece, Tonks, had difficulty believing Y/n told the truth. The majority, however, voiced opposition. 

“Veritaserum is a very potent and strong potion, Harry,” Remus stood from his chair, but before he could say anything else, Y/n’s voice took over.

“Which you just wasted.”

Silence consumes the room. Processing what she said. That’s not possible.

Heads turning to the witch, Y/n starts to chuckle in delight. A sight unnerving to the Order as it becomes more deranged. Harry looked to his friends for an answer, but they were just as perplexed as him. Y/n’s voice turns taunting, “Oh my, you lot really are daft at times. Have you forgotten? Or did you believe it to be a rumor?” Her grin is wicked, finding the scene entertaining much to their dismay. “I’m a skilled Occulmens.” 

It was as though the dementors arrived with how cold the air became. Everyone falters, stilling at the revelation. It could only mean one thing:

Everything Y/n said potentially was a lie. 

The Death Eater tsked, “What do you think I did with all that time I had rotting in the middle of the ocean?” she laughs again, more menacingly. “Your little potion is useless! My mind is more protected than Azkaban. For all you know I fabricated everything I just told you.” Her taunting laugh continues, shredding the last ounce of patience the Order had for her. 

Remus kneeled in front of her chair and smacked the table, causing everyone besides Y/n to flinch. “Enough of these games! I have tried to give you the benefit of the doubt knowing you’d been forced into this life, but you have proven to be not so different from your associates.” Now that was a nail to the coffin. Any and all of Remus’s hope for Y/n having some level of good in her gone. “This is your final warning--or we will throw you in Azkaban for the rest of your life for good!”

Never straying her stare, the Death Eater murmered cooly, “You have no idea how reasonable I’ve been.” This time it was Remus’s turn to scoff.

“Holding children hostage at the Ministry, attacking Hogwarts, marrying Snape, and sending assassins after the officials who locked you up,” He lists off, surprising the Order with the last detail. They had heard rumors of Azkaban guards and Ministry officials killed in the last few months, but assumed it was Bellatrix. “I don’t see how that’s being reasonable.”

Y/n gave a sound that was a mix of a chuckle and scoff, leaning forward in her chair. “Sending those assassins after them instead of myself was mercy.” A chill rose, Harry’s intuition telling him something was about to happen. “And despite your hypocrises and insults I have warned you time and time again to simply get out of my way.” Remus saw her hands fidget, tightening his grip on his wand. 

“You’ve exhausted my patience,” Her voice lowered once more, almost to a whisper as her bottom lip quivered. “But I do hope you understand…that even now--with what’s about to happen…..” lips curled into a deathly smirk. “This is me being…reasonable.”

Faster than the speed of light, Y/n casts a non-verble, wandless spell that mimics a gust a powerful wind, ripping the binds off her hands and ankles. Remus flies onto his back, the lights flicker and burst. The windows and glass shatter. Papers fly. Hermoine screams, echoing amongst the shouts as Ron pulls her into his arms. Molly leaning over an injured George to protect him from shards. 

 Fluer gasps at the feeling of Y/n’s wand in her hand ripped from her. The death eater had snapped her fingers in the chaos with a non-verbal Accio.

With her wand now in her possession, Y/n unleashes another bout of wind, crippling the Order from attacking her. Once satisfied she makes her escape. Black smoke fills the room before flying out the window and into the night sky. The storm inside the burrow seizing. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron coughs, catching his breath. 

“That,” Kingsley stands up straight, sore from colliding with the wall which knocked him down. “Was the closest thing to experiencing the Devil on Earth.”

Tags: @unloved-and-outspoken

#Spotify #harry potter imagine #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #severus snape #harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #severus snape angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #death eater!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #death eaters #draco malfoy angst #half blood prince #deathly hallows #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x female reader #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa malfoy #slytherin!reader #tom riddle

[meadowscarlet]

watercolor eyes ━━━ draco malfoy.

pairings: draco malfoy x fem!reader.

summary: it’s not your favorite thing to be stuck in a loveless marriage. much worse, being married to draco malfoy of all people, you despised and loathed him simultaneously, yet your heart craves for him while your mind opposes him and his entire persona. hopefully, you make clever decisions, or he’ll leave you with watercolor eyes.

warnings: arranged marriage, miscommunication, reader accuses draco of cheating, cursing and alcohol consumption.

author’s note: a reposted fic. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

When your future was planned and finalized, life began to lose its significance.

How could you not have anticipated something like this would happen at some point? Your parents had been preparing you for this since you were a little girl, yet the whole arrangement still felt enraging and terrible. Such a dreadful thing yet you can’t be disappointed, it was bound to happen but nevertheless, it just seemed presumptuous.

You were enamored with the concept of love as a child. You’d always admired how your father and mother act around each other—their eyes sparkling with blatant devotion, sweet honey utterances, and the naked love so evident in their faces—and you’d always wished for that.

Someone who loves you as much as you love them.

But, as they say, life may very well be cruel. When you realize that you will soon marry Draco Malfoy of all people, your little fairytale of love is shattered. You wanted to scream, complain, and say vile things that your mother would have chastised you for, but you couldn’t. This was your life, and you had to suffer and live it regardless of the injustice.

It was mangled and atrocious. An arranged marriage isn’t something you want to be a part of; two people who have no love for each other, not even a smidgeon of passion for each other, but who are forced to be together in a golden cage. Strangers in a relationship were like sand in the winter air, entirely at odds.

You needed to be away from all this for a while. When your family and the Malfoys ate lunch together, you were incredibly tired of the sparkling wine, the unrealistic politeness, and the tension of a stupid grin. It was uncomfortable for you, and even Draco appeared uneasy as he ate slowly and cautiously.

You were now in Hermione Granger's—actually, Weasley's—comfortable and pleasant home, which she shared with her husband Ron. She greeted you with a beaming smile and a compelling hug right away, and a part of you felt glad for the warmth she provided as she welcomed you into their home.

“How are you doing?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of the tea she had made for the two of you.

You hesitated, your hand clutching your skirt’s edge. “If that’s what you’re wondering about, I’m perfectly all right.”

When Hermione observed you, she knew you were lying. You and her had been best friends for your entire Hogwarts year, along with Ron and Harry, but you felt the closest to her and vice versa, so she knew you were deceiving by the look on her face, which was like a frown, and the way she squinted her eyes.

“You’re lying,” she remarked as she placed the tea on the table, her voice knowing.

“No, I’m not.”

Hermione sighed. “Y/N.”

“Fine,” you didn’t intend to be mean, but it just came out of nowhere, but thankfully Hermione didn’t seem disturbed; she’s probably accustomed to it. “I feel… conflicted.”

She frowned, her face deep in contemplation. “Does this have anything to do with your marriage to Malfoy?”

“Arranged marriage,” you corrected almost spitefully.

Hermione’s face had a pity look on it, which you didn’t like to see. She was well aware of your animosity for Draco; you’d rant about it all day in your dorms and even in the Great Hall, with Ron chiming in with a few supportive remarks. Even after the battle, you still despise the man you’re supposed to be entangled with.

It didn’t make any sense; Draco was the least suitable person for you to marry, and he wasn’t the sort of bloke you expected to be with. You were a pureblood Gryffindor, and it didn’t seem like a good match to be with someone as arrogant and conceited as Draco, who shamelessly flaunted his Slytherin pride in your years at Hogwarts, rubbing it in your face.

In comparison to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he didn’t harass or taunt you, but there were insults and sarcastic remarks about you, though they never went deep; you were resentful and petty, so you chose to detest him. When he’s at the back of the class, he’ll mostly tug at the ends of your braids, or he’ll mess with you in your free time and take up all of your time instead of doing what you want because of his irritating presence.

“I’m not justifying him, but don’t you think your hatred for him is a little insensitive?” With a shrug, Hermione continued, “He already apologized and even helped us in the war.”

Your eye twitched, possibly in irritation. “It makes no difference. I’m not interested in marrying him.”

“Can’t you just call it off? Perhaps if you told your parents, they’d understand.” Hermione suggested, her eyes lighting up.

“This is what they want for me, Hermione,” you stated grimly, your voice devoid of any hope. “And this is what I was conditioned to believe, that it’s for purebloods to have arranged marriages, but I’m confused…why Draco of all people?”

The door to Hermione’s house opened and footsteps emerged before she could say anything. Then someone—Ron—came into the room they were in. When he saw Hermione, he grinned broadly and looked relieved. Then when he saw you, he was taken aback but enthusiastically embraced you with a short hug.

Ron questioned, his freckles prominent on his face, “What are you doing here?” with a little grin. “Are you doing the therapy thing with Mione?”

Hermione appeared aloof, but her eyes shone with mirth. “I taught you the word therapy, and you use it every time Y/N visits here.”

You chuckled for the first time in a long time. “Maybe he’s right.”

Ron sat alongside Hermione in the couch across from you and laid his arm around her with a familiar knowing expression in his eye. “Malfoy?” he said, humor crossing his face.

You gave a tired sigh. “The one and only.”

You three conversed until it was past noon. You felt out of place and envious when you and your friends were conversing. You had yearned for the kind of love Ron and Hermione had. You’d watch Ron kiss Hermione’s cheeks or Hermione gently stroke Ron’s hands with a glimmer of longing in your eyes.

While you were passively observing, possibly in resentful longing, their eyes gleamed with genuine unconditional love, but you knew you could never be like that with Draco. You felt like you were outside a transparent glass, and Hermione and Ron were inside of it; you could see but not feel it. It’s so gruesome not to be bestowed with love. But you were ecstatic for them since they were happy with one other.

But what about you?

Maybe it was the occupants’ moods, or maybe it was just you, but the Malfoy manor felt cold and miserable. It finally occurred, the worst thing that could have happened was that you were already married to Draco. You were bound to one other not by love, but by iron chains, which encompassed you and forced you to be together.

Your love for each other was brittle, and you could see Draco was doing his best; he was impersonal, to be certain, but he attempted to communicate with you, albeit his tone was contrived and stiff. After your wedding kiss, he never touched you again; you remembered how frigid but soft his lips were on yours, but you despised the sensation of something fraudulent.

Like Hermione said, he changed, but your perception of him hasn’t altered at all. Draco, on the other hand, never mentioned what occurred at Hogwarts, about the taunts and insults, and neither did you. Now you were living in the Malfoy manor, a frigid place that didn’t seem friendly to you despite Narcissa’s warm greetings, and your room’s bed was cold, dismal, and exhausting.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Draco had said as you stood there, in your shared room, wary of the enormous single bed, hugging yourself since the chilly air was caressing your skin since you were only wearing a flimsy nightgown.

You didn’t say a word, not even a nod. You didn’t even look at Draco since the silence was so uncomfortable, enough that you went to bed and drew the covers over your body. You heard his sigh, which was most likely frustration, but you didn’t care as you closed your eyes and focused on oblivion.

And now you were in the bedroom, there in bed, reading with a tiny amount of light, half of your body covered by the comforter, and for the first time you felt peaceful, Draco wasn’t here, and strangely you felt comforted in the cold room’s isolation.

Most likely, you were brutalizing yourself. If you’re reading a romance novel and envisioning things occurring to yourself rather than fictional characters, you may have gone mad. However, as the familiar scent of Draco’s fragrance flooded your nose as you read about romanticism, the tranquility didn’t stay long.

Though you had uttered words—short and forceful—you did mostly ignore him in the months since you last spoke. Maybe you were being abrasive, because Draco was doing everything he could to make the marriage work, most likely to please his parents, but why couldn’t he just accept that he couldn’t make something like this work?

When you felt like the manor was suffocating you, you’d go out and see Hermione and Ron, or even Harry and Ginny. You’d stay in their homes since it was warm and welcoming, and it felt more like home than your own. You had wished for a household full of love and cheerful laughter more than anything else.

The words in your book were starting to lose their interpretation, and your thudding thoughts were distracting you. It’s just that you can’t help but feel betrayed by the injustice; you may consider yourself a lovesick, but you always wanted to experience that as a child, but life could be callous, and all you wanted was to love and be loved.

Like a frothing serpent, a sudden thought hissed through your mind. The idea of learning to love Draco popped up. You didn’t like the concept but you won’t deny you feel melancholy to him, on how his eyes always follow you whenever you attend pureblood events, on how he’d mutter if you’re alright, lingering his hand on your waist when you’re talking to other people, not quite touching.

You frowned and shook your head, attempting to focus on the words in the books and ignoring the yearning for something you shouldn’t even crave for.

Draco arrived at the manor quite late. His steps were a little unsteady, and his eyes were a little unhappy. He’d been out drinking with his friends Theo, Blaise, and Pansy, and the alcohol had apparently rushed into his system, causing him to become inebriated as he stumbled into their room.

Despite being slightly intoxicated, he entered the room discreetly, his gaze softening when he saw you. You were nearly buried in the bed, looking unusually troubled yet content as you read a book. You hadn’t noticed him yet, or perhaps you were ignoring him as you always were.

It bothers him or, more likely, his ego. He was well aware of your hatred for him until now, as evidenced by your pretty face, and perhaps he couldn’t blame you. He felt a pang of cynicism, though, because despite his apology for his actions during your Hogwarts years, you still didn’t like him. It was difficult to act as if he didn’t care about you and that he despised the whole thing as much as you did.

You eventually noticed him, and your enraptured eyes widened in surprise as you closed your book and clutched the duvet against you, as if trying to hide from him. Draco’s breath got caught in his throat as he realized how beautiful you were. Your face contorted into nothingness for a brief moment, almost delicately concerned. Draco was undecided as to whether he was disappointed or amused.

“Draco,” you finally acknowledge him, still unable to get out of bed. “…Where were you?” Your tone was disinterested, but at least you were talking to him.

He swayed slightly as he approached you, and he could see the apprehension in your eyes. “Hello, my wife,” he almost slurred, watching your face change with emotion. “Did you miss me?”

As Draco’s eyesight became fuzzy, you shook your head, your face unreadable. “Are you drunk?”

He chuckled as he proceeded to loosen his tie, completely oblivious to the fact that your eyes were drawn to the movement. “You seem concerned about my wellbeing.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Don’t be daft.”

Draco only chuckled as he proceeded to the couch, shaky feet almost tripping him up, as he grunted and fell on the couch, you hesitantly got out of bed and moved closer to him. Your feet were light, and your breathing was quiet, and Draco concentrated on that, his back straining from his couch position, and his eyes blinking furiously.

“You’re drunk,” you said almost monotonously as you tentatively approached him and stared down at him.

“Oh really? I didn’t notice,” Draco muttered, his eyes almost drooping as he placed his arm over his eyes as if to prevent your being in his gaze.

“Did you have fun?” you sarcastically questioned, your arms crossed across your chest, the cold nipping at your delicate skin.

Instead of responding ordinarily, Draco opened his eyes, withdrew his arm, and gave you an euphoric look as his gaze wandered about you. He asked, gesturing to your hair, “Is your hair braided?”

You scowled and consciously touched your hair, which was braided but had become practically tangled in the hair ties since you had lay on the bed.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you said as you started removing the hair ties from each side of your braid.

“No,” Draco exclaimed abruptly, leaping to his feet and snatching your wrist, halting your motions. “Don’t remove it…”

In your impeccable face, you had a surprised expression. Despite the swirl around him and his blurry vision, Draco could see the glint of affection in your eyes as you glanced at him. Draco would have cursed himself and probably regretted it, but he didn’t.

He took his hand from your wrist and gently tugged one of your braids in your hair, almost fondly, perhaps because he was intoxicated, but he couldn’t stop himself.

It frightens him.

Draco could tell your expression was impenetrable as you both stared for a while, his hand lingering over your braid. Because you were so motionless, he was certain you weren’t breathing. A flicker of something flashed over your face, then vanished as fast as it appeared. You took a hasty step back and narrowed your eyes at him.

He could only look at you, his hand hovering over the spot where you were only a moment earlier.

You sniffled. “You smell different,”

Draco was taken aback and questioned, “What?”

“You have the smell of a woman’s perfume.”

“What?” he asked again, completely baffled.

Your face was blank. “Did you really have fun?”

Your tone was accusing, your face was completely empty. But there were tears in your eyes, shimmering like lovely flecks of crystals, but they weren’t dropping, and it wasn’t the first time he’d seen you stop your crying. But it was evident in the silence that you were implying that he was cheating, and that thought was partially ridiculous.

Draco was well aware of your irrational hatred for him, but he had no idea how poorly you regarded him. Since you were ignoring him and acting as if he was invisible, he went out to spend time with his friends. He’d talk to his friends about his feelings and frustrations while drinking. Perhaps he smelt different because Pansy hugged him, platonically, and she’s dating Blaise for Merlin’s sake, maybe her aroma clung into Draco.

But the prospect of you dismissing his improvements or simply making him feel like shit made him say something, which he quickly regretted. “Do you blame me if I did?”

You froze, your eyes wide, and the misery on your face was palpable.

“You’re so fucking hard to love,” Draco continued, his mouth acting as if it had its own brain, and perhaps his inebriation was assisting him in saying things that struck you.

Draco’s voice was shaky and he staggered, collapsing against the couch and quietly grunting. He couldn’t read your face, and he didn’t really want to see your reaction, but he felt satisfied when he said that. The impact of the fall jarred his back, and he could hear shuffling.

You practically hissed, “Get up.”

Draco had a baffled expression on his face and exclaimed, “What are you doing, wife?” as you grabbed his arm and practically yanked him away from the couch.

Then you let go, and Draco sank into the bed’s soft cushion. Draco was rather hefty, so you let out a sigh of relief. His eyelids were droopy, but he had a mischievous grin on his lips as he made himself comfortable in bed.

“Are we—?”

“Sleep,” you demanded as you walked over to the other side of the bed, noticing Draco peering at you stupidly out of the corner of your eye. “What?”

“You’re going to let me sleep in the bed?” he asked, still completely baffled.

You felt compelled to smack him. “Would you rather sleep drunk on the couch?”

You grabbed a pillow and placed it between you and Draco, creating an internal barrier. As you fixed your side and the pillow, you could feel his eyes on you. You didn’t look at him once.

“There. So we’re still separated,” you replied nonchalantly as you lay down on your side.

“We’re already separated enough, don’t you think?” Draco mumbled sleepily.

You didn’t respond since you could hear soft snores next to you. Draco had already fallen asleep, leaving you alone in the dark, cold night, on the opposite side of the bed, with humid and sorrowful thoughts. You thought you were stupid, and perhaps you are, because you were being harsh and a brat.

You were in the garden at the time. It was lovely but bitterly chilly outside, and while you weren’t inside where Blaise and Pansy's wedding was taking place, you couldn’t help but crave some fresh air.

Despite the fact that they are both purebloods (which was almost likely set up as an arranged marriage) you can see they are much in love with each other. The way they stared at each other, sparkling crystal eyes with particles of devotion. You let out a tired sigh, oblivious to the fact that the door to the garden’s outside was opened and a figure stepped out.

“I figured I’d find you here,”

You fixed your gaze on the person. “Draco.”

He gave you a tentative smile and sat down on the bench next you, but not too close. At the same time, you were dissatisfied and relieved.

“I didn’t think Blaise or Pansy would settle…” you began hesitantly.

The sound of Draco’s chuckle was nearly pleasant in your ears. “They’re confusing. They break up and then get back together. I’m as surprised as you are.”

You discreetly remark, “They must really love each other.”

Draco remained silent and only gazed at you. You looked stunning, with the moonlight illuminating your features. Your outfit was lovely as well, but it was short and suggestive, causing you to shiver. He didn’t spend any time shrugging his coat and slung it over your shoulder, completely disregarding your protest.

“You look beautiful,” he says mindlessly. “But you’re cold.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, nearly frowning; was there a double meaning there?

“No problem, wife.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

Draco smirked fiendishly, but there was distress in his eyes. “You’re my wife, aren’t you not?”

“It must be a burden.”

His smirk had vanished, as if he had been smacked. “Well, if it’s a burden, then I’m willing to bear it,” he murmured.

Something was moist in your eyes, but you blinked rapidly. You could feel Draco getting closer to you, but you didn’t say anything. You were overwhelmed, your heart ached, and you desperately wanted to pull Draco closer to you, but you were initially reluctant.

“Draco—“

Draco abruptly grasped your freezing hands in his warm ones, lifted them to his lips, and kissed your knuckles; he didn’t remove them thereafter, instead staring at you with piercing eyes. You felt torn as your breath became stuck in your throat.

“Don’t say anything unless you say you want this marriage between us as badly as I do,” he murmured, brushing your knuckles with his lips.

You were on the verge of gaping at him. “You wanted this?”

“Of course I did.”

“I assumed you didn’t like me and that all the affectionate gestures you made were all a ruse,” you added almost incoherently.

Draco pointed out, “You were the one who loathed me.”

Feeling guilty, you shut your eyes. “Shit. I wasted many months.”

“We both did,” Draco murmured, releasing your hand only to play with the ends of your hair, a smile hidden. It was a braid, to be specific.

“I’m deeply sorry, Draco.” you said. “I’ve always thought of you as a fiend and the bane of my existence, knowing that you can’t take love seriously. And I was so wrong; I was so focused on myself and my selfish desire to be loved that I was blinded to the fact that it was I who was sabotaging your efforts to give me what I wanted.”

Draco tugged on your braid with tenderness, and you smiled.

He almost begged, “Just tell me you’ll start to love me.”

You turned around to face him, then kissed him after closing the gap between you—things that had previously separated you, the barriers had finally been broken down. Before Draco could react, he stiffened and drew you closer by the waist.

You mumbled into his lips, “I already started, simply blinded that it took me so long to know.”

You were now loved—you could feel it, even taste it, and it felt good—and you knew it. Your heart would no longer ache, and you would no longer shed longing tears for someone. Tears of color, droplets on the palette, it’s no longer there. The only thing that mattered was Draco and his touch.

“Oh my Merlin,” A man’s voice groaned. “Did I miss something?”

You broke apart and began flushing. You gave a surprised squeak as you stared at the man. It was Ron, and you couldn’t tell whether he was amused or repulsed by his face.

“Perhaps an invitation,” Draco drawls as he shields your face from Ron’s gaze and cradles your head against his chest. “I didn’t know you were invited.”

You smacked his sides and muttered into his chest, “Be nice.”

“You were too focused on Y/N, it’s disgusting.”

Draco remarked almost smugly, “She’s my wife, I can stare at her for as long as I want.”

“Perhaps the therapy with Hermione was helpful,” Ron rolled his eyes as he began to walk away.

Draco was dumbfounded, but you just laughed.

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