#typos and changed hermione in ron in for the last line

[mymindsmadness]

Mermaid Draco Part 2

Just to be clear, I had never planned on writing the first part of this. I’m not even sure how I got here XD. It started with an idea, and now I’ve gone and played myself. I suppose I can’t stop now. For every part I write, more and more ideas come to me. I’m not sure if this will be a fully fleshed out story. More of little scenes here and there that would make up part of a story, if that makes sense?

I blame @imadumbbinch @pretty-in-pink007 and @captainchanglingkhat for talking me into it ;D

Once again, I am not a writer. I do this for fun and because I have no life. I’m American, so I’m sorry for any terminology that doesn’t quite mesh well! Also, I’m sorry for typos. It’s just me sitting at a computer, probably with insomnia. 

Read PART ONE 

Harry couldn’t help the way his lips pursed as he watched the bright pink tail breeah the water and smack back down. He knew it was Malfoy’s way of messing with him. Because Harry had been the one to reach out and try to help (again). Why wouldn’t Malfoy want to get under his skin?

“Tell me why he has to stay here again?” He looked to Hermione who mirrored his expression, though he was sure hers had more to do with the paperwork she’d be buried under.

“We’ve never seen a curse like this, Harry. The unspeakable are beside themselves. Ron spoke with Bill and got the names of a few curse breakers, but they’ve never heard of anything like this. Rolf Scamander is on holiday with Luna, so we haven’t heard back from him yet.”

“Are you sure it was a good idea to call him? We don’t want Malfoy on the front page of the Quibbler.”

“You know Luna would never.” She smacked his chest lightly. “Besides, you never use this room anyway.”

That was true. It had been Walburga Black’s old room. Although there was no screaming portrait in here, the room felt dark. It still smelled of stale perfume and tobacco despite the charms that reshaped it into a small pond. It was only about the size of a swimming pool, but it was deep enough for Draco to stretch his – uh… fins? It was all so bizarre to Harry.

“That’s odd…” Hermione mumbled as she watched Malfoy pop out of the water. “His tail… it’s gone white.”

Harry looked over to where Malfoy was leaning on the edge of the ‘pond’, his head resting on his arms as the faux sunlight warmed the room and caused it to grow humid. The scales that lined his sharp cheekbones seemed to shimmer under long blonde lashes. Harry couldn’t help but notice how serene Malfoy looked. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen the other man quite this way. No scowl. No sneer. Just a soft expression. Even his thin lips seemed delicate and plumper under the lack of tension. He cleared his throat and remembered that he was supposed to be looking at Malfoy’s tail. For some reason, that seemed far more intimate. Hermione was right (as she so often was). His tail had turned an iridescent white. It reminded him of Aunt Petunia’s mother of pearl broach.

“What have I told you about my eyes, Potter?” The tone wasn’t as cross as Harry would have expected. When his eyes flickered to Malfoy’s face, he paused. Instead of a sneer, he was met with a small smirk and an assessing gaze. The short twelve hours at Harry’s house had done wonders for him. His skin was no longer translucent, but a creamy white dotted with scales here and there. His cloudy eyes had sharpened and darkened into the familiar mercury color Harry had come to know over the years. And his tail… well, that was still a tail, wasn’t it? Apparently, the folks at the aquarium had put him in the wrong sort of water. Maloy had tried to tell them, but they didn’t understand a word he spoke. 

“Your tail’s gone white.” He said dumbly, not enjoying the way his stomach rolled as Malfoy scoffed.

“I must say, Potter, your skills of deduction speak volumes about our ministry’s auror training programme.” His face had gone flat again; a mask of neutrality. “It changes sometimes.” He shrugged one scaled shoulder.

“What causes that?” Hermione whipped out a pad to write on, nearly scaring Harry out of his skin. He had forgotten she was still there.

Harry watched in amazement as the scales along Draco’s cheekbones started to shift from a pearly white to a light pink, darkening as the color stretched to his shoulders. “I don’t know, Granger. Isn’t this your department?”

“Cursed mermaid gits? Wasn’t on the NEWTS.” Hermione mumbled under her breath, causing Harry to smile fondly down at her. “Given the timing…” She hummed as Malfoy’s eyes darted away. “You know your father’s still locked in Azkaban.”  

“Hermione...“ Harry tried to interject. There was no reason to bring up their pasts now.

“Last I heard, he’s gone a bit mad. They say your mother has taken a lover though. Some muggle barista from what I hear.” Harry’s brows knit as she ignored him and pressed on. Was this even Hermione? Since when did she speak like this? It was almost callous.

“My mother would never!” Harry turned back to Malfoy just in time to see the scarlet red of his scales reaching his tail. “And if you think-“

“Ah.” Hermione smiled and jotted down a few notes. “It is provoked by emotion then.”

“That was a dangerous game.” Harry sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets. He figured he wouldn’t have intervene since the color of Malfoy’s tail was slowly receding. Though, the pouty frown kept its place.

“That’s all I need for now.” Hermione pocked her book and leaned up to press a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek. “We’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

“Yeah.” He would rather sleep off this nightmare of a day, but Hermione enjoyed cooking for him and Ron. It was a shame she wasn’t very good at it. Neither man had the heart to tell her as much, however. Typically, they would take turned shoveling their food into the carnivorous succulent Neville had gifted them. Hermione always commented on how much it’s grown, but could never figure out why. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

When she left, there was a heavy tension in the room that had nothing to do with the newfound humidity. It was only then that Harry realized Hermione had never answered his question about why Draco Malfoy had to stay in his house. Unbuttoning the neck of his auror robes, Harry sank into one of the folding chairs he had brought inside. He pretended to not know that Malfoy watched his every move, once again lounging on the edge of the pond. When Harry forced himself to look in the other man’s direction, only the smallest hints of red remained on his cheekbones. The rest had gone a light pink. His eyes traveled from the iridescent scales to the equally bright eyes. It had been years, years, since Harry had felt that familiar churn in his stomach. At Hogwarts, he couldn’t quite place it. He knew it happened whenever he looked at Malfoy, and figured it was due to apprehension. He was always up to something, after all. After he broke things off with Ginny, he was able to assess it further. It was only after Malfoy disappeared and Harry grew into his own that he realized it was blatant attraction. Even now, as a sodding mermaid, Draco Malfoy was ethereal. And he was still watching Harry.    

That was it though, wasn’t it? They were always watching each other, then and now. Harry never told Hermione or Ron, but when Malfoy went missing, Harry pleaded with Robards to be put on the case. If Malfoy had pissed off to France or whatever, that was fine, but Harry wanted to be sure. There were a lot of people – there were still a lot of people – that wanted the Malfoy’s dead. Harry just wanted to make sure that wasn’t the case. Robards had refused, telling Harry it would be a conflict of interests. When Harry had asked again, Robards threatened to send him back to academy. Slowly, Harry had let the case and Malfoy slip from his mind. But now that he was back, that piece of Harry, the piece that had always been owned by Draco, had awoken again.

“Maybe I should sell you admission like that bloody muggle. If you’re going to stare, I might as well get something out of it.” His words were cross, but his tone was lazy. He had even gone back to resting his chin on his folded arms.

“You’re living in my house, so I think that ought to make us even.” Harry shrugged.

“Technically, it’s my family’s house. But if you’re so desperate to not owe me anything, I suppose I’ll take pity on you and call it even.” Even as a mermaid forced to live in a charmed pond, Draco Malfoy managed to sound superior.

Harry closed his eyes, rubbing them and pushing up his glasses with one movement. “I’m going to leave for dinner soon. Shall I leave you a bucket of kippers, or would that make you feel the need to preform tricks before eating?”

No harsh curses or snarls came after his words. He had just settled his glasses on the bridge of his nose when Malfoy spoke again. “… Harry?” His breath caught and his chest was far too tight as he met steely eyes again. Had Malfoy ever used his first name without insult? But hearing it from Malfoy’s lips wasn’t as good as Harry had hoped. It was small and timid. Maybe under all that bravado, he really was scared. Maybe - “My mother isn’t really dating a muggle, is she?” Harry felt himself deflate with a light laugh and a shake of his head.

“No, Malfoy. She’s not dating a muggle.” It seemed like he deflated too, a small smile on his lips. “Last I heard, it was a house elf.”

#harry potter #draco malfoy #mermaid draco #drarry #my fic #sort of #if you can call it that #what have I done

[stuckwith-harry]

Halloweeping 2018 - “You’re Warm”

A/N: “You’re Warm” is one of 100 prompts in this prompts list, which I’m currently kind of turning into a Hinny series. And since it’s Halloween and I actually couldn’t stop about thinking about Harry and his parents while I was out trick-or-treating with my ten-year-old-niece, I cooked this up. It has undergone minimal editing, and it’s forty minutes to midnight where I am, so please forgive typos, timeline errors, and the like. 

With that said - happy Halloween, happy Halloweeping, and happy NaNoWriMo Eve! I love you lot, I hope you didn’t cry about our fictional son’s dead parents too much. Here is a story about rituals - about what stays the same, and what doesn’t, and about playing your part when it does.

“You‘re Warm”

                                                                                                     Halloween 2018

Harry spends much of the day thinking about all the ways that Halloween feels the same.

When they were younger, sometimes Ginny asked him if he wanted to take the day off. And though Harry has thought a lot about that, too, and though the idea crosses his idea every year, he never has. He still doesn't know if that makes the day sadder, or, in some strange way, a little more hopeful – that the gears keep turning, anyway. The world does not stop for Lily and James Potter.

But he has learned to avoid the Daily Prophet, knowing their names will leap at him from some double-digit page, somewhere, every year. He's learned to make it to work ten minutes before everyone else, so he can hide out in his office and pretend he is the only person in the whole world who knows they ever existed.

When Ron was still there, he'd ruffle Harry's hair in passing and pat his shoulder before sitting down at the desk opposite him. Around noon, he would get up, repeat the same ritual, and disappear in the cold October for ten minutes, and when he came back, he did it carrying two steaming take-away meals. Halfway through whatever he'd picked up for them this year, he would quietly prod Harry's foot under the tables, and Harry would either look up and shrug, or shake his head.

But some years, he would talk. Not for long, not much – never demanding Ron to reply.

“I’ve been alive longer now.” That year, it was chicken, Harry remembers. He stuck his plastic fork in the dry meat and tested how far he could bend it before it snapped. “I’m older.”

The year after that: “They’ll never meet James, you know?”

“I was jealous.” Three years later. “Because you and Hermione got to get married with your parents. And I guess I’ve always known I won’t … but I didn’t really realise it until I watched you do it.”

And Ron would do his best.

“Oh. That sucks, mate.” Pause. “If you fancy distraction, I can tell you about this ridiculous thing Crookshanks did last night. Hermione’s still in shock.”

“They’d definitely love him. Reckon your Dad would like the name, yeah?”

“I’m sorry. You can have the last slice of pizza, if you want.”

But after that, they’d carry on like it was any other day, except Ron would deal with anyone who knocked on their office door; and Harry liked that best.

The first year in the house, Ginny asked if he wanted to put a Confundus Charm on the front door, so no trick-or-treating children would disturb them. Harry said he didn’t mind – and so, every year, they turn on the TV and watch a movie that doesn’t remind Harry of anything at all. But Ginny gets the door if he can’t force himself to smile, and Harry stays on the sofa until she comes back, and sometimes she nicks some candy from the bag in the hallway and sneaks it into his hand. She curls up next to him, and Harry buries his nose in her hair and waits for his chest to stop burning.

When their own children got old enough to go, they made it a habit to be back before the credits roll. They take off their coats and costumes and sit on the carpet in the living room; and without fail, each of them has brought back a piece of candy specifically for Harry. All three treats find their way into his hands silently, and then the five of them sit on the floor digging their way through the rest of it. Ginny tells Lily if the movie was any good at all, and Albus asks if his ironic wizard costume is still clever even though it’s the third time he’s worn it.

The graveyard is reserved for another time. Sometimes, when Halloween falls on a weekend, they’ll go during the day, before the streets fill up with gaggles of children cheering and nosily inquiring about their lack of costume. If not, there is always the first of November. Ginny holds his hand, the kids take turns carrying the flowers, and they don’t bicker the slightest bit until they’re back home.

But Ron is long gone from the Auror Department, and Harry doesn’t have the luxury of spending the day buried in mindless paperwork anymore. James and Al are at Hogwarts, and this time next year, Lily will be, too.

So it feels the same, for now, but it’s bound to change. Harry has gotten so used to the comforting noise around him, he doesn’t think he’ll know how to deal with the silence when it comes back.

Ron rings, now. Their conversations sound the same every year, echoing lunch breaks in their joint office, years ago.

“Hi. It’s me.” Ron is usually quite pleased with himself for using the Muggle contraception so effortlessly, but on Halloween night, he’s sure not to let it show too much.

“Thank you for calling.”

What comes next is a silence for Harry to take: It’s what’s left of Ron’s habit to stretch his leg under their office tables and bump his foot into Harry’s. There’s no obligation here: Some years, they just listen to each other breathe, and rustle around their respective houses, until Harry changes the subject and Ron takes the cue.

Some years, they talk the way they always have. Few words. Simple comfort.

“Alright. Well, call, if you need anything.”

“Sure. And thanks again. For checking in.”

“Yeah, of course, mate.”

Then, they stay on the line for a little longer, just in case. And when Harry hangs up, the burning in his chest has eased a little.

“Ready to go?” Ginny.

“Yeah.” Harry puts down the phone and makes sure to reach for her hand, if briefly, in passing. “I'll go get the flowers.”

“I’ll tell Lily. See you in a second, babe.”

That is Ginny’s part.

Her first year playing for the Harpies, she was stuck at practice. They didn't make plans – none apart from the usual, and still, when Harry came stumbling out of their fireplace that night, her Patronus was there, filling the living room with warm, silver light, waiting for him, and he somehow managed not to have a panic attack right there and then.

“I’ll be there by eight, and if I’m not, my Patronus will be and tell you when. Either way, you will know. I promise.”

She got home twenty past eight, exactly like Patronus number three had told him she would, and crawled onto the couch next to him.

Once she'd reached for his hand, she looked up at him and said: “I’m sorry for the wait, Harry. I didn’t know it would take so long.”

Even now, Harry remembers all the directions his emotions ran when he looked at her – how quietly baffled and yet, wildly, weirdly touched he was.

“It’s no big deal”, he said.

Ginny gently put her head on his shoulder, and Harry slouched into her, soaking up the warmth she radiated. “I didn’t want to worry you”, he heard her say. “I didn't want you to come home and – find the house empty.”

Harry was so taken aback, so in awe of her, and so heavy with sadness, he couldn’t speak. After a minute or so, he said, with a tight throat: “Thanks – just … for thinking of that.”

“I just wanted you to know I’d be there.”

Lily holds on to a bouquet of bright yellow flowers with one hand and to Harry’s fingers with the other. She’s ten, going on eleven, and she walks by her parents’ side with steady steps as they make their way down the street that leads to Godric’s Hollow’s graveyard.

It has taken Harry a long time to learn to talk about them. The handful of people he talks to has grown over the years, slowly and steadily, but remains a handful, still. There’s Ron, and Ginny, and Hermione. There’s both Weasley parents, and Andromeda, and one Christmas, George. Harry asks Hagrid about his parents, and his children ask him about them. Harry has told them who they’re named after, and why they’re not there anymore.

What he hasn’t learned is how to talk to them. He stands in front of the tombstone, and despite all the years behind him – all the things he’s said to Ron and Ginny and everyone else – there is nothing he can say, now, here.

Outside of the graveyard, Lily and James Potter’s names are never far. They are mentioned over dinner and around the Christmas tree. Their faces are in photographs around the house. James, Al, and Lily walk past the graduation picture of Hogwarts’ 1978 class every morning when they come down the stairs.

Harry’s life is full of proof that his parents have lived and loved and fought and loved some more. The graveyard, somehow, feels so far away from all of that. Here, they are only dead. Only cold. Only rotting underground.

And for that, Harry has nothing; nothing but silence.

Lily Luna Potter kneels down, picks up a bundle of dried flowers from earlier in the month, and gently lays down the fresh ones she carried here.

“Dad, can you tell the story about the Snitch again?”, she asks. “The one grandpa drew.”

Her part.

“Well, it’s a bit embarassing for him”, says Harry, the same way he always tells the story, and Ginny softly chuckles next to him. “He was supposed to be taking an exam, see. Like you will, once you’re in Hogwarts. But he was already finished, because he was really smart, and so, to pass the time until everyone else was done, he started doodling this little Snitch. And he put your grandma’s initials in it, too.”

“L, and E”, says Lily promptly. “L for Lily, like me, and E for Evans, because her name was Evans before they got married.”

“Yeah. See, he already had a big crush on her, but he didn’t know what to do about it yet. He crossed it out when it was time to hand in the exam, so no one ever saw it except him.”

“And you”, Ginny says.

“And me.”

“I’m sure he drew more”, Lily says with all the confidence of a ten-year-old. “After they got together.”

“I’m sure he did”, Harry says, and Lily nods like that concludes the story.

The three of them fall silent. Chilly October wind tugs at them – Lily buries her nose deep in her scarf and steps closer to Harry, leaning against him.

Ginny does, too – her forehead is touching Harry's chin, and she keeps one arm wrapped tightly around him. All three of them are looking at the tombstone, and Harry feels Ginny’s hand resting on back. When he finally swallows and tears his eyes away from his parents, she is already there and looking at him.

“Are you okay?”, she asks. “It’s freezing.”

“I’m okay”, Harry mutters. “You're warm.”

#hinny100 #jessie writes #halloweeping #halloween #hinny #brotp: his wheezy #(this is part of a hinny series; yes - but ron is the unsung hero of this story) #(he's the unsung hero of many stories including the harry potter novels) #fanfiction #hp #my posts

[starrnobella]

Snippets of News from the Wizarding World - Malfoy Heir and the Snowbunny

A/N: I know it seems like it's been a while since I updated this mini fic and I apologize for that. Life has gotten in the way and I've been neglecting my writing a bit lately. However, with the recent hurricane activity where I live, I've had a bit of time to get some things finished off and ready for posting due to my school not having power, which means we can't have the kids there.

Much like previous chapters, The War is Over and Break Up Of the Century, this article was originally written for the prologue of Turn Around Bright Eyes before I changed my mind with the direction that I wanted to take the story in. Obviously the story line I have going with that story now is much more enjoyable in my opinion than this direction would have taken me.

This article was self-betaed, so I apologize profusely for any typos you may encounter as you read along. They are all my own and I take full responsibility for them.

Like what you're reading and interested in checking out my other work? Please feel free to check out my other stories and search my penname on social media. I've got a fan page and a group for people who love my work!

If you are enjoying these chapters, please drop me a review or leave me a pm with some ideas you might have for future articles!

Love always, ~starr

Malfoy Heir and the Snowbunny

Alicia Spinnet

Witch Weekly

10 August 1998

TYROL - How does the Malfoy heir opt to spend the last of his free time before the Ministry work kicks into full gear at the end of August? Our reports show he has chosen skiing down the slopes of Hintertux with his latest choice of snow bunny.

Draco Malfoy was spotted at the beginning of the week skiing down the slopes for his last vacation of the year. This was only three weeks following his break up with Astoria Greengrass, and sources say he was seen hanging out with none other than Greengrass's sister, Daphne.

Odd, don't you think? Our sources says the pair seemed rather cozy with one another when spotted not on the slopes.

It does appear rather curious that Malfoy made the decision to move from one sister to another, but it was a possibility that had been predicted according to sources close to the Greengrass family. During the last few months of their time at Hogwarts, Malfoy and Astoria's relationship had been revealed to the world, but it appeared off to a slightly rocky start.

It is believed that the pair had been dating for some time before the war began. It has also been rumored that there was a betrothal contract in place between the two families, requiring that Malfoy wed one of the Greengrass daughters at the completion of their time at Hogwarts.

Neither sister was explicitly spelled out in the contract, allowing Malfoy to have his choice of the two. However at the end of the war, all of the betrothal contracts signed between families of the Sacred 28 families became null and void as the Dark Lord fell.

To many, this was a sigh of relief and it was the end of an era of the parents controlling whom their children chose to be romantically involved with. However to some, it appeared to be the source of family chaos. Although, isn't that the case anytime there is a change in the governing rules of a society?

During his time at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy was associated romantically with Astoria. However it was rumored that he was spending many of his evenings with the older of the two sisters. They were often seen sneaking around after hours. No one really seemed to bat an eye at the situation seeing as it was all within the agreement of the betrothal contract in place.

Now that the contract is no longer in existence, Astoria has been willing to speak out about the rumors that began arriving after Draco and her sister were spotted outside of the country. "Nothing was ever set in stone. The contracts that the Dark Lord had drawn up were very detailed and no one really understood any of the loopholes that were found inside of them."

When asked about her feelings regarding the rumors, her answers came across very diplomatic, which is to be expected of someone yielding the Greengrass family name. "As much as I would have liked it to me that Draco had chosen to be with, I have nothing negative to say about their relationship. Each of them are free to be with exactly who they want to be with. I will always be there to support my sister in anything that she does."

We tried to get an interview with Malfoy, but he was a little difficult to catch as he flew past us on the slopes. Hopefully when the pair finally gets back from their trip we will be able to get a quote from the happy couple.

All of this information comes just a few days after the breakup of the other Hogwarts power couple, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Who knows what happy couple could be next on the chopping block.

I know that if I were a couple that stemmed from a Hogwarts relationship, I'd be making sure to diffuse any situation that had the possibility to lead to a break up before things could get any worse.

#snippets of news from the wizarding world #Draco Malfoy #astoria greengrass #daphne greengrass #draco x astoria #draco x daphne