“Malfoy,” Harry said, squinting with a new suspicion. “Are you… drunk?”
“Not yet.” Malfoy shook the flask. “How about it, Potter?”
The third entry in my Harry Potter series, Spring Forward, Fall Back, this Hogwarts era story takes place a month after the The Bubo.
OR, read on for some excerpts and a making-of story. Tl;dr: it took me 6 fucking months to make that illustration.
Continue reading The Yule BallHarry hated it. Every torturous minute of it. He hated parading in front of the wide-eyed crowd like a prize horse, his fellow students turned to strangers by colorful dresses and frilly cravats. And the dancing! He hated Parvati’s fingers clasped around his clammy hand, her disapproving stare on his overheated face, her long dress getting under his feet as if it had a mind of its own. He hated being in the midst of the other Champions, the true Champions, all so much taller and more dignified and mature than him, the impostor. He hated how Cho blushed and simpered on Cedric’s arm. He hated the stilted classical music that started the evening, and he hated the stupid wizarding band even more, because everyone but him knew their songs. He hated being left alone with Ron when the Patil twins finally abandoned them, and hated Ron for trailing out after Hermione without bothering to drag Harry along.
But above all, he hated the sight of Draco Malfoy having the time of his life.
Continue reading The Yule BallHarry Potter needs a hug. And he gets it. He gets all the hugs. And kisses. And then it gets complicated.
Hogwarts era Harry-is-a-Slytherin friends-to-lovers teeth-rotting Drarry sweetness with a possibility of hurt/comfort in future chapters. It’s a WIP, but with standalone chapters, like oneshots in a series, so enter with no fear of cliffhangers! It begins at the end of 3rd year.
The hands of the grandfather clock on the other end of the deserted common room hadn’t moved since the last time Draco checked, though he could swear it had been minutes. He itched to go out. It was the final Saturday of the term, and the weather was perfect for a broomstick race over the lake. Its murky waters sloshed placidly behind the windows, allowing the occasional ray of sunlight to peek through at the top of the arches. At low tide like this, one could fly into the caverns, keeping the head down while grazing the water with the tail twigs, and after a few minutes in darkness, make out the lapis glow of the magical algae.
Literally no one in their right mind was still inside. But he had promised to wait for Harry.
Continue reading Any time, PotterBut Draco cherished the obsession, even when it hurt. It had grown up with him, from childhood stories and toys to starstruck infatuation as he’d awaited meeting his hero at Hogwarts. It had been cut at the root by Potter’s rejection, but it hadn’t died; though twisted beyond recognition, it lived, and thrived, and at last it bloomed, together with Draco, into something sexual, dark and ravenous.
A darkish 4th year Harry Potter story where Draco obsesses over Harry and eventually gets a bit more friction than he bargained for.
