Reblog If You Write Fic And People Can Inbox You Random-ass Questions About Your Stories, Itemized Number

Hermione smugly presenting the findings of the international symposium that declared Pluto not a planet as final proof that astrology is made up.

But it turns out that’s what’s been throwing off everyone’s readings so a lot of divination quickly starts becoming more refined and accurate when they take that into account.

Hermione is hailed as a divination savant and that’s what she’s most known in the history books for.

Harry hadn’t actually meant it when he told Draco that “he should try not getting arrested every few weeks.” At the time maybe he had, but Harry had grown antsy over the past few weeks.

Things had been quiet. Too quiet.

“You’d like to what?” the Head of the Aurours department asked.

“I’d like to conduct a search for Draco Malfoy,” Harry replied. Ron stood at his side looking unimpressed. Search missions required back up by law, and Harry had managed to convince a reluctant Ron to be his.

“He’s not going to give this up,” Ron pointed out.

“You know what, fine. Fine. But make it quick.”

____

Harry found Draco in the basement of Fangtasia brooding at 11am on a Thursday.

“You’re not wearing the necklace,” Draco pouted.

“That thing was bloody hideous Malfoy,” Ron said defending his friend. Draco actually looked almost offended.

“Come on Draco we both know that you usually have much better taste,” Harry said as gently as he could. Draco had clearly been struggling ever since he’d become a vampire, and as amusing as it was to watch, Harry wanted Draco to accept himself and find happiness...preferably with Harry.

“I knew you liked the leather,” Draco said proudly gesturing to his current outfit. Harry just shook his head and decided not to start this arguement.

“Draco are you okay?” Harry asked. The basement was windowless, but well lit. Draco sat at the head of a long table filled with unoccupied seats.

“None of them came,” Draco said looking at the empty seats around him with dismay.

“None of who came?” Harry asked.

“I tried to construct a founders council, and invited all the prominent Vampire families, but no one showed up,” Draco sulked. Harry nudged Ron before the boy could start laughing.

Harry was prepared for this. Harry had researched the Vampire Diaries when he’d realized Draco’s habit of picking up the identies of famous fictional vampires.

Harry spent the rest of the day making calls with Draco. They ended up enlisting Luna’s help and instead created a council of influential magical minorities.

Harry hopes that this was a good substitute for the support groups Draco had opted out of having. But wasn’t surprised when Draco ended up back in his office a week later.

Vampire Draco XD

LISTEN YOU… I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE WRITING THIS GOD DAMMIT! Tagging @violetclarity for inciting shit too. :D

Word count: 200

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for what felt like the 20th time this month. Today was supposed to be a normal day, his day for paperwork and non-magical nonsense. So when his eyes fell on Draco, sitting as casually as possible in Harry’s office chair, Harry knew his day was done.

“What did you do this time?” Harry sighed, waving his hands in a way that indicated Draco should get the fuck out of his chair.

“I asked a wizard if he knew what I was….”

Harry looked at Draco quizzically. “What’s wrong with that?”

Draco sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of glitter. Harry stared, already knowing where this was going but really hoping it wasn’t.

“Draco… Please tell me you didn’t.”

“….I did.”

Harry let his head fall to his desk, hands pulling out his hair in hard tugs.

“But- But, just listen! It was going great, I was broody and reciting poetry. He was totally hooked.”

“And then…?”

“And then I threw glitter in his face.”

“Draco, what the actual fuck? That’s not even… The vampire in that book fucking actually sparkles. Like “diamonds”… He doesn’t throw sparkles.“

“Oooooh….”

Draco: You can't pretend I change my entire personality!

Harry: I don't want that! What I'm asking you is that you stop calling Ron "weasel"!

Draco: And I'm telling you that that's an important part of myself!

Harry: You mean being a git?

Draco: I don't know why you are so surprised about it

Being a writer means having like 5 baby name websites bookmarked, a very suspicious browser history, and a vast amount of knowledge about seemingly random topics like when stop lights were invented or how much blood you can loose before passing out.

Harry: Draco.

Harry: why is the outside of the flat painted in rainbow colours

Harry: Other people live here too

Draco: It’s pride month Harry! Gotta get in the spirit!

Harry: Does it come off?

Draco:…

Draco: It’s 20gayteen it’s pride year Harry! It doesn’t need to come off

Harry: That’s a no then

Harry: it was Malfoy

Ron and Hermione: The views and opinions expressed above are solely Harry’s and do not speak on behalf of us nor do they reflect in any way the views and opinions of The Golden Trio™ as a whole

JK Rowling: I shall name him my villain Voldemort. It is French for “fleeing from death”, indicative of his primary desire to become immortal, and the fear that motivates him.

JK Rowling: These two characters can turn into a black dog and a werewolf

JK Rowling: theyre called black dog and werewolf mcwerewolf

They were both slightly drunk, then, on Christmas Eve. It was Neville who threw the party. Malfoy’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes a bright glint in the dark. They had stood on the balcony, which faced north, and the chilly wind bit their faces numb. Harry’s cheeks burned from the cold and the liquor both. It was at once pleasant and confusing.

“No, no. Not the new year’s resolutions.” Malfoy made a face. He was more pliant when he was tipsy, more expressive. “How old. How boring.”

“Well. What’s not old, then?”

“Hmmmmmm.” Malfoy swayed slightly, took a long sip of his champagne. Posh git. “Ah! Let’s play Truth.”

“That is old!”

“I’ll start. How was it, the twenty-fourth year the savior hath graced this world?”

“Lonely,” Harry said. The word simply tumbled out, and only then did he feel the syllables echo through his empty ribcage, resounding through his body. He shivered. “It was lonely.”

Malfoy stared at him. Harry took a quick sip of his beer and hid his face in his scarf.

“I’m lonely, too.”

“’s not what I said,” Harry mumbled.

“Do you want to be lonely together?”

Harry lifted his gaze and stared at Malfoy. Malfoy stared back, his eyes huge and serious. They caught the glimpses of light from underneath, a midnight London. They caught Harry’s reflection.

“Why not,” Harry said.

*

Harry was trying to get the newt to stay on the Christmas tree when Malfoy came, wrapped his arms around his waist, and kissed him on the mouth. He tasted like mulled wine, like cinnamon and star anise, sweet with the bitter tang of orange.

Malfoy pulled away, his arms still around Harry’s waist. He was smiling.

“Happy first-year anniversary,” he said, teasing, “of being lonely together.”

Harry’s smile faltered. It was a jest, he knew. But he wasn’t lonely anymore. He hadn’t been lonely in such a long while, in fact, that he barely remembered what it felt like. All that happened when he thought of Malfoy was a flooding warmth in his chest, brimming and overflowing, and an urge to fight the smile. As though he was afloat.

“Are you?” he asked, voice light. “Lonely, still?”

Malfoy’s face softened.

“No,” he said. “I’m happy.” Then, colors creeping into his cheeks, “And in love.”

Oh.

“Good,” Harry said. “Good. Let’s do that, then.”

“Be happy?”

“And in love.” Harry’s cheeks burned. “Together. Let’s do that together.”

“Oh.” Malfoy smiled, oddly shy. He had flushed furiously down his neck. He looked pretty like that. “Okay.”

“You make me happy, Malfoy.”

Malfoy kissed his chin. “I love you, too.”