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softlystarstruck · 2 years

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✩ softly reading, dec 27 - jan 2 ✩

in which i list every single drarry fic i’ve read this week in hopes that you, dear reader, find a fic you like too! happy new year 🎉

✩ - a fave | 🔥 - hot | 🌼 - fluff

spotlight rec

✩ Come Up For Air by anon [E, 13k] 🔥

In a train station in Northern Europe, while waiting to attend a Quidditch convention as the representative for Finland's top Quidditch team, Draco Malfoy goes into heat. Across the platform, Harry Potter notices. Because of course he bloody does. [H/D Erised 2021]

why i rec this: i don’t think i’ve been hooked on a veela fic as fast as this one!! it’s SO hot (so hot 🥵) and the dynamic between harry and draco is so good and feels very real. i adore harry as a caretaker and he’s absolutely in that role here, while also being rather gone on draco. i cant wait for erised reveals to find out who wrote this brilliant piece!

longer reads

✩ Dormiscere by sara_holmes [T, 10k]

Harry can't sleep but it's okay - turns out he's not the only one.

short & sweet

✩ Slick by @slytherco [E, 7.1k] 🔥

What does it take for Harry and Draco to admit they’re attracted to each other? Apparently, it’s five years, an unexpected Veela awakening, a pair of unkempt wings, and a dash of oil.

✩ Thirst by @fluxweeed [E, 4.4k] 🔥

The path of Malfoy’s scent is obvious; Harry hasn’t fed for days, so his senses are sharp. Deadly. And Malfoy smells so good.

✩ Drawn to You by @phdmama [E, 4k] 🔥

The last thing Harry expected to have happen at this utterly boring Ministry party is for Draco Malfoy to push him up against the door in the small parlor where Harry has taken refuge, but here he is, and here Malfoy is, and there’s the door.

✩ The Eyes are a Window to your Soul by @written-in-ash [M, 3.4k]

A diversion. Dumbledore had conditioned him well; the lesson that his life was worth less than others is ingrained into his very bones; for the greater good, he was taught. So with a sharp exhale and a subtle glance at Draco, Harry steps away from the wall as if it is second nature. [Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange]

✩ Salt and Sauce by @onbeinganangel [T, 3.3k] 🌼

Sure, of course he knows how you take your tea. But does he know your chippy order?

When You Came In, The Air Went Out by @graymatters [E, 3.2k] 🔥

“This road’s not safe for a pretty face like yours.” It’s a crisp voice that sounds like home, melded with the honey-sweet drawl of the South and accompanied by a pale, slender hand, beckoning you as it appears over the roof of the Eldorado. “Need a ride?”

When Midnight Strikes by edaniels0221 [T, 2.7k]

A few years after the war, Harry began hosting small get-togethers on New Year’s Eve for his friends. It was the perfect opportunity to reminisce about the events of the year and ring in the new year with happiness and fun — while also getting way tipsier than they should. On the fifth year of hosting, Harry finds himself facing a guest that's not entirely unwelcome.

Swiss Chalet by @aprofessionalprotagonist [T, 2.2k]

During Eighth Year, Draco breaks it off when Harry won't date him openly. But Harry won't stop staring at Draco. Or inviting him to Switzerland. [Drarryopoly ‘21: International Edition]

✩ Are Those Drugs in Your System, or Are You Just Happy to See Me? by @thebooktopus [T, 1.2k] 🌼

While Harry is out on patrol on New Year's Eve, he stumbles (literally) into Draco. When their eyes meet, Harry is immediately concerned - why are Draco's pupils so wide? Is he high? Nope. Turns out he's just in love.

art gallery

✩ His Flashing Eyes, His Floating Hair! by anon [T, art piece] 🌼

Veelas get a bad rap. Really, Draco is hardly possessive at all. Perhaps the tiniest smidge, but really only just. [H/D Erised 2021]

✩ Capture by anon [G, comic] 🌼

Harry gets a Muggle smartphone, mostly to take pictures of Draco when he's not looking. [H/D Erised 2021]

✩ The Heart Can Be Moved by anon [G, comic]

Even in ice a fire can be lit. [H/D Owlpost 2021]

✩ Kinkmas by @kryptidfox [E, art collection] 🔥

A collection of work for Kinks of Knockturn Alley's 25 Days of Kinkmas.

previous softly reading lists

#softly reading #softly reading december 2021 #softly reading january 2022 #drarry fic recs #drarry rec #hpdm

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years

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Sorry, now Talking More Seriously. Since Lucius It's The type who Trash Talks about People behind their back I Think Draco Will not like Leo (DR Self) for that and when The sorting Ceremony Takes palce he's literally praying just so The Hat don't put him in Slytherin, But Sorting Hat don't care about His opinion, so Puts Leo in Slytherin Anyway.

They Surprisingly kinda grown on un eachother but Draco Never Will accept that he Likes Leo as a Friend. And Actually that make me Think about a specific scene that would happen in Year 2.

Little Writing, I Guess.

— Why You hair Is Black now? —Draco Asked

Leo's Glasses turned red, Seems Like Malfoy was bothered Why? He wouldn't know.

— I Just Wanted a New Style You know. —the now Black haired brushed it off What it was a “Trivial” conversation topic to him.

— Really? A New Style? Levesque, Someone wrote in The wall that Will end with The impures and You're Like “Oh! New Style” —Closed The Book he was holding while he looked at The Half-Veela.

— Wow, I didn't know You actually cared, The “Mudbloods” Never were empathizing for You

— This Is not about the mudbloods, Levesque! You're a Half-Veela, an Impure that means You... —The Words fall Like a House Of Cards, Malfoy was Falling in Account he actually was showing himself worried about The Safety of the Other Slytherin

Leo smiled a Little as His Glasses turned blue, He Will Never expect Draco to actually shown worried about him, but it wasn't an unwelcome surprise.

He was Sorry for making It look Like he doesn't cared about the Situation, but he guessed it was a Family Thing, being calm even when The World Is Falling apart was also One Of The Characteristics Of His Mother.

A Little by Little The intensity Of The blue in His Glasses was turned in white, he wanted to help His... friend? to calm himself, maybe If he give him Good vibes with His veela powers could help a Little.

— Levesque, stop I'm trying to be mad at You.

— Look I'm not gonna lie, Maybe I don't pass This night, but if You want You can stay with me Until that, seems Good to You?

Grumbling could hear from The blonde but finally Calm Down.

“Please, Let him Live” was All Draco could Think of

The Sorting Hat is quite unpredictable, huh? Looking back, Harry really shouldn’t have told Albus Severus that it takes the person’s choice into account (for a variety of reasons but this is one of them) because he only had his one experience to go off. For all he knew it was a fluke that his opinion was considered, and from what we’ve seen (Neville) it...basically was. The Sorting Hat is a total trickster, just a lawful one. No, I don’t know how that makes sense but you know it’s true.

Just a few lines in and I’m already enjoying Draco and Leo’s dynamic. And the whole admonishing about the new look is giving me Beatrice vibes. But of course Draco brings up blood status. In the early years, I don’t think he knows how to win an argument or even socialize without doing this. But I like the twist and the transition into how for once, he’s actually worrying about his friend rather than trying to take shots. All in his very Draco esque way. And you know, I was too busy getting emotional over “Please, Let him Live” that I almost forgot to compliment the glasses! Those are so cool!

#Draco Malfoy

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homenum-revelio-hq · 4 years

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THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY: FEBRUARY 14TH, 1981.

The engagement party thrown by the Rosiers to celebrate the impending union of their own Jayesh with one Vanessa Abbott is hardly the shindig of the century - Vanessa is of middling social rank at best, and until a little over ten years ago was not even aware of her own pureblood heritage, but Jayesh is besotted and as he’s a younger son, a pretty, vivacious wife with pure blood and little fortune but great enthusiasm is acceptable.

(Besides, there’s little chance of anyone outdoing the obnoxious gala that fêted the Malfoy-Black marriage any time soon.)

Nonetheless, in these dark times any happiness is worth celebrating, and the Rosiers are not known for their frugality or dullness so it is sure to be a memorable event...

...especially for the Order of the Phoenix.

THE MISSION.

Having learned from Isla Selwyn-Macmillan that the mysterious Orb that the Order has been chasing since that disastrous night at the Notts’ home, and which is believed to have recently been responsible for the deaths of 102 Muggles, is now being stored at the Rosier family’s chief residence, the Order has decided to take advantage of the party to infiltrate the estate discreetly and retrieve the Orb (and any other potentially useful secrets they can find along the way), an endeavor that will doubtless be helped by the fact that one of their own is the sister of the bride-to-be.

ASSIGNMENTS.

Ainsley Abbott & Amelia Bones. The latter will be attending as Ainsley’s date to the party, although they will not be arriving together since Ainsley will be there early to help her sister. Neither are technically there on Order business since Amelia is not technically in the Order, and it was decided that Ainsley would be busy enough already. Nonetheless, should any Order members find themselves in distress, both Amelia and Ainsley stand ready to help them get out unnoticed. Amelia also hopes to keep her date from being miserable...but that may be the harder mission.

Mary Macdonald & James Potter. They will be polyjuiced as Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, respectively, with James brushing-off his rusty lessons in “social comportment” to keep the both of them from getting caught. Their duty will be to watch-over the bride-to-be and keep Vanessa from noticing that there is anything amiss at her party. Knowing that Nessie would be protected by wix whose skills she trusts was the only way to get Ainsley to agree to having her sister’s party used as cover for the Order’s mission!

Lily Evans & Emmeline Vance. No one is expected to cross wands with any enemies at this party, but the Order has been around long enough to know that’s always a risk. Given that they’re meant to be bringing back a Dark Artifact, the chances of injuries are high enough anyway - so the Order wants to be ready. This leaves Emmeline and her new, reluctant assistant, at headquarters to prepare for the worst. They are thus also tasked with keeping an eye on the Order map that shows if anyone is in trouble so they can send out patronuses to Remus and Peter directing aide, if needed.

Isla Selwyn-Macmillan & Archibald Macmillan. As invited guests, the couple are among the safest of the Order members attending since the worst thing they’re likely to be exposed as being if caught is too nosy - which makes them a perfect choice to search the main floor for the Orb without drawing suspicion. The problem with this is that they often get stopped by “friends of theirs” and have to stay in character, making the search a rather slow one!

Emma Vanity & Daisy Hookum. Emma had been invited to the party with her family, but no one goes without a date. With most wix expecting her to be on the arm of a dazzling pureblooded wizard, Daisy has been assigned to polyjuice herself as Igor Karkaroff in order for Emma and her to watch over the mission and provide distraction if anything goes haywire. This means a lot of small talk with a lot of other guests (an undue amount of which seems centered on how nice it is to see Emma finally “getting over" poor Antonin and on with her life - and with such a good catch, too!). Daisy’s not used to being a man, however - nor is she very happy at having to play pureblood.

Amos Diggory & Artem Tremblay & Maurice Creevey. The Diggorys are still held in high esteem by pureblood society and Amos has thus been invited to the event. With Artem as his plus one, it’s enough to get them both through the door to look for the Orb on the upper floors where they will be joined by “Rabastan Lestrange” (really Maurice Creevey) whose name and reputation should dissuade any interference -- especially as many of the guests will have forgotten about Amos while he was away and aren’t likely to seek him out to chat. It’s expected (by many in the Order, at least) that Artem will also be willing use their veela charm to protect their mission from exposure if necessary; between the three of them, it’s hoped that they’ll be able to trespass so far beyond the bounds of the party with relative impunity.

Cordelia Greengrass & Sirius Black & Mundungus Fletcher. The former is an invited guest; the latter two are attending under polyjuice, Sirius using the old-fashioned manners he hates so much to maintain his cover and Mundungus trotting out his old theatre skills as they pretend to be Edwin Yaxley and his wife, Morganna (the rest of the Order let them fight over who’s paying whom). The assignment of the latter two is to break into the study and rifle through the Rosiers’ private documents...a task made difficult by the fact that they’ve run across an overly-curious young witch who is disinclined to let them slip away easily. But it’s not like she suspects on whose behalf they’re really there...does she?

Ryland Greengrass & Andromeda Black. Both in polyjuice, using their rusty (especially in Andromeda’s case) old social skills to pass as Bellatrix and Roldolphus Lestrange, their assignment for the night is light: they are to mingle casually among the guests, but to stay near the Entrance Hall to make sure none of the actual people they’re all polyjuiced as show up. Andromeda was asked (and suggested) for the role by Sirius, who trusts that she can pull out her old skills as a proper pureblood lady well enough to blend in; Ryland was given what was hoped to be easy duty as he is still recovering (and perhaps not entirely trusted by some) but which is likely to be made more difficult by all the familiar faces attending...not that Andromeda won’t be encountering some unwelcome familiar faces of her own, too!

Alice Longbottom & Frank Longbottom. While not in the same social circles as the Rosiers, the Longbottoms are socially acceptable enough that the Rosiers decided to “invite” them...as hired guards, not guests. (“After what happened to poor Leina Nott, well...can't be too careful with that Phoenix rabble out there, can we?“) Ordinarily they would refuse, but for the sake of the Order they agree to be the Rosiers’ “Aurors at the feast.” They will pose as guests to the public while keeping their eyes out for possible trouble...just not the sort of trouble the Rosiers expect them to watch for.

Ndulue Travers & Dorcas Meadowes. Ndulue will be attending as the “pretty play-toy” on the arm of wealthy old pureblood Perpetua Bulstrode...who will secretly be Dorcas under polyjuice disguise. Their assignment is to search the Rosiers’ bedrooms for evidence (masks, robes, etc) that will allow the Order to pinpoint which of the family are active Death Eaters...a risky task made safer by the fact that the pair have a ready-made-excuse should they be caught “dallying” in said bedrooms!

Branwen Yaxley & Fabian Prewett. The former is a required invitee who, for once, is pleasing her mother by not causing a fuss, and even bringing a date - Fabian, although everyone there will think him Casper Crouch thanks to the polyjuice. Their task is to slip (or perhaps stomp) away from the party and investigate the grounds. While Ainsley has not been involved much in the plans for the night, being preoccupied with the actual party, she did get word to the Order just prior to the event that there's something odd - something Dark - hidden out on the Rosiers' lands. (Players should connect with admins to discuss what exactly they’ll find!)

Caradoc Dearborn & Edgar Bones. The Dearborn family is always invited to things like this as a matter-of-course; they also never attend. When Caradoc arrives with Elladora Rowle on his arm (really Edgar Bones under polyjuice), it causes a stir...but Caradoc doesn’t really seem to feel like talking. No matter - the families in attendance hadn’t expected that from him anyway! It gives them the ability to slip away - down to the cellar - in search of the Orb they’ve come for.

Marlene McKinnon & Gideon Prewett. With Gideon’s position at the Ministry and Marlene’s vast knowledge in wards (given the ones set around her farm have held even under werewolves), they have been tasked with finding the anti-Apparition wards on the Rosier Estate and taking them down. The Order doesn’t know if they’ll have to make a quick escape - and they can’t all run to the Apparition point at once without getting caught! Marlene and Gideon are both purebloods who have not been invited but, should they be caught, can act as “gatecrashers” and dates of one another. They should not use their Phoenix Tags or polyjuice to keep suspicion down.

Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew. Held back as reserves should things go south, the two friends may be especially relieved to not be among the attendees given Remus’s recently exposed secrets and Peter’s yet-undiscovered ones (although Peter’s Death Eater masters would doubtless have preferred him to be there, where he could give them more warning about the Order’s plans than a vague recommendation to keep their eyes open tonight...). Still, it cannot be easy to sit and fret at the borders of the Rosiers’ grounds while they wait to see if they’ll be required to charge to the rescue. They are not under polyjuice, but should have their Phoenix Tags ready.

THINGS TO CONSIDER.

Anyone playing in a para where there is a polyjuiced party will need to decide how they kept their persona at home. (i.e. Did they break into their home and tie them up? Knock them out? Make them sick? Modify their memories? Maybe just falsified a nice sale in Diagon Alley?). This doesn’t have to be played out - we will assume it happened prior to the event - but should be kept in mind. It can also involve other characters through plotting.

Characters should be thinking about how their polyjuiced person speaks and acts - and how pureblood society in general behaves. Clothing should mimic high society wizarding families (high-end dress robes, jewelry, etc).

Some characters will be better at playing their part than others - not everyone will be perfect. It’s okay to trip them up...or even get caught!

Polyjuice only lasts for one hour and nobody has extra doses, while events like this tend to last well into the wee hours of the morning. This puts things on a tight schedule for our infiltrators! They can’t afford to dally.

Dark Marks do not show up in polyjuice and many of those being impersonated fall under the category of suspected but unconfirmed Death Eaters - but fortunately pureblood fashion and the icy temperatures combined should lead to full-length robes and long sleeves for most attendees anyway, so no one will be inadvertently exposed by failing to dress “appropriately” for their subject’s Marked status!

Just because there are para assignments does not mean you only need one thread. People can interact with others outside their assignment - this is just who the Order put them with for the mission. (i.e. Emma and Ryland could chat, Peter and Remus might find Gideon and Marlene messing with the wards, etc.) Feel free to branch-out and strike-up other interactions along the way!

Assigned paras should take priority, however!

Polyjuiced players may feel free to choose a temporary faceclaim to stand-in for whomever your character is impersonating!

DETAILS.

Some of the pairings above were set by admins based on events planned in-game. Others were chosen using random dice rolls. As always, admins will keep track of what is happening within threads. At random intervals, players might be asked to dice roll for their group, which will then spur a mini plot drop for their characters.

Remember to tags your posts with the date of event and to tag any open starters with ‘homenumstarter.’ This event does not yet have an end date, as we will vote on that like we have in the past. Threads set prior to February 14th can still be continued and more can still be started, if needed for plots!

#homenumevent #harry potter rp #harry potter rpg #marauders rp #marauders rpg #homenumplot

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idreamofdraco · 4 years

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UPDATE

Learning to Fall chapter seven: hogsmeade

“Excuse me,” Draco interrupted before Granger started a useless argument. “Do you mean to tell me Potter and Weasley are going to be in Hogsmeade?” Granger glared over her shoulder and then raised her nose in the air with haughty superiority. “Yes, and we would appreciate it if you left us alone for once so we can catch up without you antagonizing them.” She acted as though Draco’s presence within her circle of friends was unwelcome, but that didn’t stop her from poring over books about Veela in between Ancient Chaldean Numerology and A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, Vol. II. “Would I ever antagonize St. Potter and the boy wonder?” Draco asked with contempt. Weasley turned around, walking backwards to face Draco, brow raised in censure. “You know very well that you would. But we need not worry about you misbehaving today because you and Harry and Ron are not going to see each other.” “And how do you propose we accomplish that?” asked Pansy. Weasley gestured between the three of them, her eyes lingering on the way Pansy clung to Draco. “Because you two and I are not going to meet Harry and Ron at the Three Broomsticks for lunch. We are going to go elsewhere.”

AO3 | FFN | FIA

#drinny #draco and ginny #draco x ginny #dmgw #dracoxginny #my stories #story: learning to fall #author: idreamofdraco #theme: post war #era: hogwarts 8th year #era: post war #theme: magical creatures/animals #theme: spells/curses #theme: soulmates #draco: veela #dg fics

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handbooktomysoul · 6 years

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I knew she was the one, from the time I set my eyes on her. I saw her walking rapidly down the street, constantly looking up at the sky. I guessed she was worried it would rain.

I found myself unconsciously looking for her every evening, at the same place, at the same time. She wasn't perfect, no. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, her eyes looked puffy and tired and she always looked irritable. She was always in her own world, never looking around at all the men trying to gain her attention, probably including me as well.

Sometimes I saw her offering food to a random tramp. She never missed showing love to every street dog. Strangely, just everybody in my sight noticed and adored her, but she never perceived any of that. She was always preoccupied with her own sphere. I wondered what went through her mind because I espied the expressions on her face constantly changing. It was almost like she was deep within a conversation with an invisible being.

23 evenings into the same routine, I finally managed to catch her eye. She saw me feeding her favorite stray puppy. She gave me a slight smile, but walked off with a sudden frown on her face. Well, at least she realised I existed. I yearned to hear her voice. Her skin looked like pure moonlight, she must have descended from a family of Veela. I felt a breeze when her eyelashes dipped to her high cheekbones.

Day after day, I just stood there, in the masses, holding my breath and waiting for her to look in my direction again. I think her eyes carried the storm. She probably believed that she wore an invisible cloak that hid her from the world. She didn't know that her beauty radiated so much fire, that even the demons wouldn't dare to touch her.

I wanted to hold her hand and walk with her. Maybe she wouldn't ramble away with the speed of lightening everyday then. I had observed her enough to know that I loved her, but there was no way I could gather the courage to tell her.

I watched her from a distance, day after day, season after season. The winter made her skin sparkle. She had become a physical neccesity. I was getting obsessed with seeing her everyday.

She noticed me, finally, looking at her like the world would crumble if I blinked. She smiled at me. I felt like Christmas had come early that year. She smiled at me everyday. When I smiled back, she blushed a brilliant crimson. My heart skipped a beat as I realised cupid had struck the both of us.

I finally plucked the mettle to wave at her. She smiled her sweetest and bit her lip while walking away anyway. I knew at this moment, that I would do anything within and beyond my power to make her mine.

There were so many other men on that very street trying to woo her, but the rose on her cheeks was only for me.

The monsoon clouds had set in and the sky roared with thunder and lightning. Contrary to my beliefs, her eyes glowed up everytime she saw a flash of lightning across the sky. She was a confusing woman. Probably all women are. The heavens had opened up and gracious showers soaked us both as we stood across the street from each other, stationary. She started walking towards me. I was erratic. A din, a chaos suddenly broke out in front of me. A couple of drunk drivers had crashed into each other and had resorted to hurling slurred abuses at each other. It was pouring and amidst the bedlam, I couldn't see her. I pulled out an umbrella and walked onto the street, avoiding the rampant, mobocratic crowd to look for her. I felt a tugging at the bottom of my trousers. The puppy I had once fed to impress her was trying to take me somewhere. I obliged and followed him, right into the crowd, where my angel was standing, composed and calm, watching the crowd's entropy. I felt serenity around her. Something didn't feel right. She magically turned towards me and put her hand on my cheek, but I couldn't feel her. It then dawned upon me.

Unwelcome tears poured down my face. I fell to my knees, wailing like a toddler, telling her how much I loved her, telling her that I needed her the most and that was when I heard her voice for the first time.

"Why didn't you tell me all of this when I was alive?"

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writingdumpster-o · 6 years

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Chapter Six:

One Month Later

The next few weeks, everybody kept talking about the Tournament and who they thought was going to put in their name, or whose name would come out. That morning, Magdalene sat alone at Slytherin table. It was the first day of October and she had had trouble sleeping ever since coming back to Hogwarts. Consequently, she was always the first Slytherin at the table. That morning, she was spreading butter on toast with Shyvana purring by her side. She was just about to get a first bite when someone tapped on her right shoulder, stopping her in mid-chunk to her great frustration.

“Malfoy.” Magdalene greeted, her mouth full.

The blonde grunted in response. "Just hand me some of that,” she snatched the bit toast from the aggravated redhead as she was preparing to bite in it again.

Magdalene’s mouth gaping, with her hand still placed as if she were holding an invisible toast, learned that Victoria was not a morning person. Not before breakfast, at least, for she started talking after a few mouthfuls of toast and coffee.

“What’s in our schedule?” She asked.

“A month in, and you still don’t know that we don’t have the same specifics. I have wand lore and you have Herbology.” Magdalene spoke, unused to being so casual with the female Malfoy.

“Swell,” Victoria drawled. “It’s today, you know.”

“What’s today?” Magdalene asked, buttering another toast she was hoping to eat.

“Don’t act silly, it doesn’t suit you.” Victoria scoffed. “The French and the Bulgarians are coming today. And so will the Goblet of Fire.”

Magdalene nodded slowly. “All right, what does it have to do with me?”

Victoria raised a doubtful eyebrow. “You need to learn Occlumency, Middleton.”

“You used Legilimency on me?!” Magdalene thundered, the butter knife she was holding piercing the innocent toast.

“Taking lessons from your Death Eater relatives, Malfoy?” Michael Corner sneered from Ravenclaw table, where he overheard Magdalene’s bellow.

Victoria fought the urge to turn around, but new veins appeared on the back of the hand that held her fork.

“Eavesdropping, Corner?” Magdalene asked as Pansy and Daphne sat on either side of Victoria.

“Don’t talk so loudly if you don’t wanna be overheard, and I just defended your Muggle-Born arse.” He retorted coldly, turning his eyes back to his Daily Prophet as though nothing had happened.

Magdalene looked around for teachers. Satisfied she would not be spotted; she pulled out her wand and sent a wordless spell in his direction. After five minutes of wordless breakfast, the four Slytherins heard a thud from Ravenclaw table and those who weren’t facing the sound turned around to watch Corner struggling to get off of the bench. He cast an alarmed glance at the green-clad group of girls, the blonde of whom had a slight smirk.

“You did that!” He sneered.

Magdalene raised her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Professor McGonagall asked, noticing the struggling Ravenclaw and the smirking Slytherins.

“Professor, she used a Sticking Charm on me.”

“He made rude and unwelcome remarks about my housemate.” Magdalene explained calmly as she ran the butter knife over the previously-stabbed toast.

McGonagall pursed her lips as she regarded Corner and then the quiet Slytherins. “I see.” She flicked her wand at Corner, who was struggling to reach his wand, which was too far to his right. The momentum of his pull made him fling himself over the table, knocking his cup of juice over in the process.

Magdalene stifled a snort at the sight, but straightened her features as the headmistress turned to look at her. “You won’t get points for this, Miss Middleton.”

She swallowed. “Yes, Professor.”

McGonagall gave one, distasteful glance towards Corner before forging ahead to her seat. Parkinson, who had never felt particularly warmly towards Magdalene, raised her eyebrows with what seemed to be surprise. Victoria’s smirk was revived at hearing Corner curse behind her and storm out of the Great Hall, shouldering Draco on his way out. Magdalene cringed at the inevitable confrontation, but Malfoy merely tightened his jaw, earning a new vein on his temple. He sat a little ways from the Slytherin girls, grabbing a cup and drinking.

“Am I supposed to thank you?” Victoria asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“Don’t mention it. And stay out of my mind, that’ll be enough.” Magdalene requested, though it sounded more like instructions.

Victoria gave one nod as she went to join her cousin. Magdalene listened to Pansy and Daphne’s small talk as she continued to have breakfast.

Victoria sat to Draco’s right and made him turn to face her, so that she could fix his tie.

“I’d like it if you told me before depriving me from breakfast for this,” he grunted, rather annoyed.

“You are not going to go about this castle looking like a homeless Muggle,” she declared before attacking his hair. “By the way, the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students will be coming tonight.”

He nodded absently as Theo came to sit across from them. “I need coffee, where’s coffee?”

“Do you mind?” Victoria asked, fuming.

Theo rolled his eyes and left the table for a more welcoming spot. They ate and drank silently for the most part; he then grabbed a muffin and started spreading fig jam on its surface. He was nearly done when Victoria snatched it from him as well and, before he could protest, put a plump yellow apple in front of him. He gave her a disdainful look.

“What?” She objected, “You wouldn’t want to get fat, now would you?”

“Would you?” He retorted challengingly, still eyeing his muffin.

She shrugged, taking a generous mouthful, chewing patiently, and swallowing. “It’s like you live on another planet, sometimes,” she remarked. “You haven’t noticed that no matter how I eat this is how I will always look.”

“No I haven’t, you spend so much time buying new clothes that I started believing that you have weight problems,” he sassed, earning an elbow in the ribs, which made him wince.

“How’s that for weight problems?” She said emotionlessly.

“What’s our first class?” He asked before biting into his apple.

“Herbology,” she said, “your favourite.”

“Oh yeah,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Come on, now. You don’t want to be late for your first class, I understand you’re so fond of studies and such,” she sassed, reminding him whose fault it was that she was at Hogwarts.

“You do like Quidditch,” he supplied with a hopeful grin.

“There’s the Tournament this year, genius. No Quidditch.” She reminded him, regarding her cousin with disdain.

“Oops.” His interjection was completely unaffected whatsoever.

***

That evening, at the feast, McGonagall introduced the two guest schools. Much like in their fourth year, the entrances were laced in theatrics. The Beauxbatons students sat at Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables while their Durmstrang counterparts joined the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Magdalene noticed Corner trying, and failing, to flirt with an attractive Swedish-looking girl who looked part-Veela. Blaise chose to sit beside Magdalene, with little conversation between them. When Potter, McGonagall, Madame Maxime, and Professor Gregorovitch (the late wand maker’s brother and the replacement for Karkaroff) introduced the Goblet of Fire and the Triwizard Cup (which was the same that Potter had won four years prior), they reminded the Hogwarts students of the age restriction. This was met with heated objections all over again, but McGonagall silenced them and allowed Potter to remind every eligible student that the names would be retrieved from the Goblet a month from then, on Halloween.

Back in the Slytherin common room, and after showing the Durmstrang students to their guest dormitories, Blaise sat at the fireplace near Magdalene. She was playing with Shyvana, who had elected to lie down on her chest.

“How are things, Head Boy?” She teased.

“I’m exhausted. Thank Salazar no one gets to sleep in Crabbe’s old bed. It would’ve been awkward to have someone else in the room instead of him.”

“Yeah, it would feel inappropriate.” She sympathised, running her forefinger around Shyvana’s jaw from her ear.

“Maggie?” His call sounded hesitant.

“Hm?”

“Is it true you want to put your name in the Goblet of Fire?” Blaise asked, making Magdalene stop mid-stroke.

“Where did you hear that?” She asked suspiciously.

“Victoria’s right, you need to learn Occlumency.”

“Salazar’s saggy bollocks, Blaise!” She exclaimed, making a second year boy snort back his tea.

Blaise tried and failed to fight the smile that won over his lips. “This is one I’ve never heard.”

“Don’t make me throw the cat at you; you had no right to use Legilimency on me. It’s illegal.”

“That’s not what you told Victoria this morning,” he observed, reaching for a book that Magdalene Accio’d out of sheer spite. He scowled.

“I would have had time to tell her if that Corner arse didn’t think it ever so wise to interfere.” She assured him.

He stood up from his couch and walked over to hers, calmly retrieving the book from her hand, and she giving in with no protest. He let a few minutes stretch in silence, listening to the fire crackle, before drawing in a deep breath.

“Please don’t do it.”

“If you spent so much time in my mind, you’d know my reasons. The least you could do is to be supportive. We’re not even sure it’s going to spit out my name.” She spoke rapidly, hoping to convince him not to oppose her. He was the only friendship she was sure of, since she had grown distant from Luna.

“Oh, you vant to put yor name in ze Goblet?” A Durmstrang student asked, interest lacing his thickly accentuated voice. He sat in the armchair between the couches and facing the fireplace; either completely unaware or uncaring that he had interrupted their conversation. “I am Sven Malkovitch. I come from Bulgaria.”

“Never would’ve guessed,” Blaise muttered, taking his book to his dormitory and leaving Magdalene to deal with the tourist on her own.

She decided to play the childish card and lifted up Shyvana. “This is Shyvana and she doesn’t like strangers.”

With that, she stood up and took her cat to her dormitory, which was thankfully full and admitted no Durmstrang student. She flopped on her bed and rolled her spare Slytherin scarf into a bed for Shyvana, under her own. Parkinson was working on an essay for what Magdalene guessed was Potions while Victoria, whose bed was directly to Magdalene’s right, was reading.

“I know that book.” She stated, looking at the book cover that showed a house in stormy countryside.

Victoria took a brief glance at the cover of the book she was reading and eyed Middleton suspiciously. “All right?”

“My mother likes it.” She stated simply, unbuttoning her cardigan.

“Good for you.”

“Isn’t your mum a Muggle, Middleton?” Parkinson asked, looking up from her flattened scroll of parchment.

“She is, and so is the book.”

Parkinson peered at Victoria over her reading glasses. “Interesting.”

“The war is over, Parkinson, get over yourself.” Victoria snapped, closing her book noisily and Banishing it with her wand.

Parkinson shrugged. “All I’m saying…” she trailed off, as she got back to her homework.

Magdalene noticed Daphne Greengrass, who was always (along with Tracy Davis) the most pacific presence in the dormitory, was playing with Shyvana. For all the years that Magdalene had owned the cat, she concluded that her pet was an excellent judge of character. If Shyvana liked someone, then the person was good company; end of.

Magdalene shut her curtains and cast a Silencing Charm, but sleep never came. It never did, in Hogwarts, ever since she was forced to come back after that fateful December of 1997.

***

Magdalene’s hand was shaking as she struggled to fit the key in the keyhole of the place she had called home until then. Pushing the door, she could swear that creaking had never been there before. She fought back the knots forming in her throat as she made her way to the living room. She shed her Hogwarts cloak on the couch, not caring the least bit that it slid off to the paved floor. Nothing mattered anymore. She went to her room where Shyvana slept peacefully; blissfully unaware of how tragic a turn her mistress’s life had taken in the last forty-eight hours.

Two days prior, she was on the run from Death Eaters and Snatchers, then working with the Ministry in the Muggle-Born Registration Offices. She had stuck to Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff she had had a few pleasant interactions with before the war forced them into hiding. Their only source of news was a clandestine radio channel called Potterwatch, which communicated news on the Potter-side of the war, rather than ratting out Muggle-Borns to Snatchers. That night, the password for the radio was Padfoot, and Justin had just tapped his wand against the radio that the list of names started pouring out of the speaker. All three of them waited, dreaded, in anxious silence for names they recognised.

And then it happened.

“And lastly, two Muggles named John and Ivy Middleton were found dead in their apartment in Grays, Muggle authorities spoke of heart attacks and poisoning, but the proofs are apparent: They were murdered by Death Eaters, because their daughter is Muggle-Born. Her whereabouts remain unknown—”

A strangled sob tore through her throat as her attention left the radio. She spent the next hour alternating between crying heart-wrenching sobs to ricking back and forth, hugging her knees, trying to convince herself what she had just heard was a trick of her imagination. Dean and Justin knew better than to interfere or try to calm her down. They were fairly confident the wards they had set around their encampment were strong enough that she could let her emotions fly safely.

However, they protested when she started gathering her things.

“It’s too dangerous, they did it to taunt you into coming out, Maggie!” Justin insisted, holding her wand high, out of her reach.

“Give me my bloody wand!” She screeched, burning her throat, uncaring of the sob that mixed in with her scream. She jumped, but he was much taller than she was.

“They’re doing this to round up Muggle-Borns, please understand I’m keeping you here for your safety!”

“He’s right; you’d be doing them a favour by returning.” Dean reasoned, but she shook her head.

“If I don’t claim their bodies, they’re going to be buried where I can’t find them. Or— Or worse, they’ll be incinerated and I won’t be able to—I have to, you’d do the same if it were your mum, Dean! Please, let me go, I’ll be fine on my own!” She gave up resisting his grip on her arm and threw herself in his arms to sob until her heart felt numb. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to comfort her and hopefully rub away any more ideas of going into Muggle London.

He had obviously failed, as Magdalene changed from her funeral clothes. She had arrived the day before, and found that her parents’ friends had claimed the bodies in her absence. They said that they had tried to telephone to her boarding school but they did not find a number to there. She nodded absently, numbly. Her mother’s high school friend had brought her food, but they both knew it was going to go to waste. Eating was the last thing on her mind.

Magdalene realised with a cynical snort that her parents were murdered on December 24th and proceeded to tear away at the Christmas tree that stood, arrogantly festive in the living room. Her hands were webbed with cuts from the needles and garlands, and she was certain a shard of glass was embedded in her palm. She glided like a ghost to her parents’ bedroom and lied, facedown, on their bed. She inhaled the remains of their scent from their pillows, but it was faint. As though her mother had changed the beddings the day before she died. For the first time in days, Magdalene gave in to sleep, hugging a pillow with both arms and legs.

That was, until she heard the sordidly familiar ‘snap’ of Apparition coming from the corridor. She gasped and jumped from her parents’ bed. She looked around for her wand frantically, before remembering that it was in her bedroom. Thankfully, it was adjacent. She grabbed a photo of her parents as children, in case she needed to flee her apartment, and ran to her bedroom. She grabbed Shyvana and unceremoniously threw her into the duffel bag that she had not unpacked from her days with Justin and Dean. She located her wand on her bedside table and waited anxiously in her room. She mentally cursed herself for forgetting to set up wards.

“I thought you said they were Muggles, Scabior?” A male voice demanded.

“That’s what Avery told me. You wanna take it out on someone, well, choose him. I follow orders, Nott.”

Avery.

Nott.

Familiar names. Magdalene cursed the Sorting Hat for putting her in such a House. She held her wand at the ready when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She eyed her broomstick, leaning against the wall, behind her door. She briefly considered taking it but all projects flew away as the door banged open. She refused to take in the features of the people who were most likely responsible for the murder of her parents.

“Well, well.” Scabior murmured as he saw the Slytherin articles of clothing littering the floor. “I told you there were Mudbloods in Slytherin. They just know not to advertise it.”

The other man (Nott, she figured) remained silent. He looked shocked at her sight. He looked as though he’d seen her die before and met her again in that messy room.

“Ivy.” He muttered, unintelligibly to Scabior and clear as day to Magdalene.

Instinctively, her gaze fell to the framed photo she still had in hand. Nott walked over to her, paying her no heed as she raised her wand threateningly, and snatched the photo from her hand. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the frame with what seemed like all his might.

“Impossible.” He breathed, his eyes going back and forth between the frame and her terrified face. “Impossible.”

“Come on, Nott, if Lestrange—”

“I don’t give a damn about Lestrange! This witch is Half-Blood and she’s returning to Hogwarts.” Nott stated, and from his tone and Scabior’s surrender, she knew that he was the one in charge..

“All right, all right! If they give me shite, I’ll say it was your doing!”

“Of course you will, you coward.” He muttered sarcastically.

Magdalene fought back the urge to say “Like father like son.”

When Scabior went back to the living room, or the kitchen (as she heard him open the refrigerator), Nott grabbed her arm roughly. “Mention this to anyone, and you’ll meet a fate worse than death.” He raised the frame. “I’m keeping this. I expect you back in Hogwarts by the end of Christmas holidays, or I’ll finish the job myself. Understood?”

She nodded, unsure that she could trust her voice. She wanted to ask why he’d spared her, and why her parents’ photo qualified as ‘impossible’, but she thought it wise not to speak.

He kept her gaze firmly before muttering with what sounded like disappointment. “You have your father’s eyes.”

Then she wondered how he knew her father’s eye colour. The photo he held was in black and white and taken from too far away for any eye colour to be discerned. She, at that specific moment, was only glad that she got to live.

“We’re leaving, Scabior. And tell Lestrange that you murdered perfectly good wizards because of your lack of discernment.”

‘Snap’!

“Of course, it’s the Death Eater that gets all the praise.” Scabior muttered, slamming a door.

‘Snap’!

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