She Is So Gorgeous

Some phone wallpapers from the Project Eevee Twitter for Eevee Day!

On a fateful day in sixth year, Harry follows Ron and Hermione into the hazy, vapour-filled dungeons for their class with Slughorn. Breathing in woody, floral fumes, he opens up an old annotated copy of Advanced Potion-Making for the first time.

That year, he kisses Ginny Weasley for the first time, too.

He also slices Draco Malfoy open in a bathroom.

Ten years later, he finishes up at his desk on a Friday evening, chucks the latest case notes into his bag, and wanders down to the D.M.L.E. potion lab. Technically, at this hour, there should be no-one here, but he's not surprised to find a pale blonde head bent over a row of steaming cauldrons.

"Shouldn't you be home by now?" He drops his bag on the floor, hoisting himself up onto the benchtop.

"Funny." Malfoy doesn't take his eyes off his task, peering at the dark, pearly liquid. It looks vaguely familiar. “Shouldn’t you?”

"Not like it matters," Harry says, gaze catching on the damp curls at Malfoy's nape. "Nothing to go home to except more case notes."

"Oh, the life of the Chosen One. Scintillating as ever." Malfoy stirs the middle potion clockwise, then counter-clockwise. "I'll be sure to write to the Prophet tomorrow, first thing."

Harry snorts, and Malfoy grins, wiping his brow with his sleeve. He begins stirring the potion closest to Harry, counting under his breath. Spirals of steam twist languidly in the air as a comfortable silence settles in. Harry breathes in deep, slow, recognising the warm, clean scent of Malfoy’s cologne. He’s sure he could pick out Malfoy blindfolded now, after five years of working together in close quarters.

"I should go home and use my own lab," Malfoy murmurs, brushing his hair out of his face again. "The temperature control charms here are shit. I'm sweating my fucking balls off right now."

Harry can't be blamed for what he says next; he's trying very hard not to think about Malfoy's balls.

"Well, you smell nice, at least."

Malfoy looks at him sharply, a strange look on his face. "What?"

Harry feels a heat creep up his neck that has nothing to do with humidity. "Er, your cologne. It's nice."

Malfoy carefully places the ladle down on the benchtop. "I'm not wearing cologne today."

"Oh." Harry breathes in, helplessly, wishing he would shut up even as he keeps talking. "It smells like your cologne in here." Too late, he remembers where he recognises the pearly sheen of the potion from. Sixth year. Slughorn. "Ohhhh, shit. Is that—"

"Amortentia," Malfoy breathes, crowding in between Harry's knees, and then—he's kissing Harry, kissing him hard, tugging at his hair, shoving a hand up his t-shirt. Shock, hunger, hot and electric, shoot up Harry's entire body and he pulls Malfoy hard against him, desperate. Malfoy's tongue is in his mouth. Harry wants to climb inside him.

Finally Malfoy pulls back, breathing hard. "It smells like me? Really?"

"Yes," Harry groans, chasing after him. "Yeah, this whole fucking—" Harry gasps, clutching Malfoy closer as he sucks at the skin below Harry's ear, "—room smells like you. Oh God. Fuck, fuck, don't stop—"

Draco doesn't.

Floral 🌸 Day 6 of @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean’s unofficial microfic may challenge

night out 💫

Yeah, Draco taking Harry's last name to make a statement about no longer being a part of his stupid family's pureblood ideology is cool, but Harry taking Draco's last name to make a statement about how he 100000% supports his husband as he is, past, present, and future, and is done being the celebrity Harry Potter and is focusing on being Draco's husband is SO MUCH BETTER.

Kitten Drarry <3

XV. Future

This is part of continuous story, you can read the first part here. Based off this prompt list by @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean

<- previous

The ambiguity of their relationship hung in the air. A limbo of the past and future.

Mornings they still had breakfast.

Now there was a gentle caress of hands as Harry made the food and Draco brewed the tea and coffee.

Nights they still had dinner.

Yet there were heated glances shared across the table, every look a promise.

Afterwards they still built their puzzles.

With the addition of kissing. Lots of kissing. Draco no longer felt worried Harry would catch him staring since the other would do the same and then they would kiss again.

The lines blurred and Draco didn’t know which ones he was crossing. Hunted with the mistakes of his past and the fear of the future, he chose to enjoy the limbo. To live within their gap and be happy with the present.

all entries next->

maybe im just a weirdo but does anyone else hear an interesting or relevant conversation behind you in a way where you think if i’d been a cat my ear would have done this just now

harry + forgiveness