𓆙 SLYTHERIN PRINCE
Draco Malfoy. ⠀ semi-canon character. ⠀⠀ semi-selective. ⠀⠀ Harry Potter universe. ⠀crossover and oc friendly. ⠀⠀ eight plus years exp. ⠀adv. descriptive novella. ⠀⠀ third-person
he could help direct her to the right cupboard, but he knows from experience that usually just irritates her. she’ll get there.
𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆.
he leans a hip against the counter to wait while she clatters about the kitchen, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. >
〝 of 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 they are. 〞
she opens the wrong cupboard first, and then another which promptly groans shut again of its own accord.
( this house doesn’t like her. too loud, too
clumsy, too 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡. )
finally, she locates the mugs with a triumphant little noise. »
< she falls victim to the dust collected in every corner of this old place and when she shakes it free, her hair stands up wildly in all directions.
his hands itch to tame it for her;
he resists the urge to reach out, but fails to suppress the smile at the sight of her. >
terrorising their fellow students was perhaps not something remus should encourage . . .
but it was a surefire way to lighten james’ mood.
( really, he was a 𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿. )
he let a crooked smile tug at his own mouth, buoyed along on his best friend’s mirth. >
⠀⠀⠀
⠀that would have earned a loud burst of laughter ; james never was one to turn down tormenting the Slytherins, especially when his friends were involved.
" y'know, if you ever want a 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 mug of hot chocolate, you should come visit my parents and i +
“ don’t be. ”
he gathers up the warmest smile he can and pats harry on the shoulder.
“ harry, if i let everyone apologise for how 𝘪'𝘮 feeling around the full moon, i’d never speak of anything else. it’s 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲.
tell me about you, instead. how are you getting on? ”
now he’s feeling rather stupid for not putting two + two together quick enough. harry wonders if anything he says would lighten things 、 even a fraction 、 for lupin. perhaps an entire change of topic should suffice . . . but nothing comes to mind. »
< should be a factor, ” he suggests. “ that seems popular in coffee. we’d need a stable base that can be modified for taste preference.
i know valerian doesn’t react with much. it may be suitable? ”
he feels sufficiently 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲, which is a singularly unpleasant sensation but not one he is entirely unaccustomed to.
he breathes in slowly through his nose and scans his eyes down the page in front of him.
“ i think . . . 𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 >
confidence only those convinced of their own brilliance can so effortlessly exude.
apparently that threat had been enough.
“mhm.” riddle emits 、 akin to affirmation - seemingly re—focusing on this joint task. already sifting through tome—like works stacked unevenly »
⠀
❛ luminous tendril of celestial wish
(whying diminutive bright deathlessness
to these my not themselves believing eyes
adventuring,enormous nowhere from)
#𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐛𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐞
⠀ https://t.c
“ then i suppose i’m just 𝗼𝗹𝗱-𝗳𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱. ”
he follows her as though she is magnetised, his eyes always hooked on her. she is a flare of light and colour in the darkness of the house.
somewhere in all this gloom is sirius, a tattered ghost of a wilder youth; >
〝 oi .ᐟ i’ll have you know my tea is 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍. 〞
( she is somehow capable of b͟u͟r͟n͟i͟n͟g tea. )
the corners of her mouth lift; the tightness in her chest eases just enough to let her breathe again.
〝 right, c’mon then. 〞
she ushers him towards »
< did he ever try to push 𝘩𝘪𝘮 away as firmly as he does her?
he knows why it is. he can’t fool himself, but he tries anyway.
“ in the broom cupboard, ” he sighs as they step into the kitchen. it is cramped but long, clearly designed for servants.
“ for some reason, >
< all the tension goes out of his shoulders.
“ i’ll have to make the tea then. ” he aims for jovial but it comes out a little unsteady. “ i’ve never met anyone who can ruin tea so 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆. ”
damn it.
𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣 𝙞𝙩.
how can she know him so well? it’s so 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 to care so much that she remembers such small things about him, that she’s willing to stand her ground when he tries so hard to push her away.
he doesn’t deserve it.
she’ll regret it.
he can’t . . . >
for a long moment, she doesn’t say anything. she just studies him, quiet and still, as if words might startle him into further retreat.
( she feels like it’s one step forward, two steps back with them. )
〝 what am i gonna do with the naff oat cookies i bought if »