dangersmith

video game

[mawsteryowda(Comms @ Vgen) @mawsteryowda_]

Dorm encounter continuation...

[Apis Melifera @MelMellifAI]

The best thing to happen here
Dracy Malfoid SFW

[_ @gahskopq]

💚
#Malfoid

[J. Y. Song @Critical_Scribe]

Evil stands before her.

It is deep, raw, a presence that robs her of warmth and claws at her soul even from so far away.

The Dementors swarm behind the Dark Lord, the sheer number of them molding into an inky, black cloud that writhes together like a pit of snakes. Voldemort’s pale skin is stark against this darkened canvas, his grin even sharper, so filled with malice and glee as he steps forth, victory assured. He says no words, and merely points.

The abyss surges forth.

A tremble trails up her spine, turning into a whisper of fear that bores itself into her mind, telling her that there is nothing she can do.

But there was, and it was so simple.

She had spent all her life staring into the abyss of sins, feeding upon the lies it gave as if it was her birthright. But once, she looked the other way, out of accident, and what she saw was love. It was so fragile…so sincere, and it may not have known, but it stared back.

For so long did she not know where to look to see it again, but now she does.

So, she looks, and she sees.

She sees the boy who braved trial after trial to chip away at the heart of darkness itself.

She sees the boy who stood before her in that shattered bathroom, his hand held out to her.

She sees the boy she helped chain fight against everything in the face of it.

She sees the boy dancing with her, so nervous in the hall, yet so full of light in the garden.

She sees the boy who held concern when she’d been injured, despite her own foolish pride.

She sees the boy that rushed ahead of her on his broom, so high up to grab the gold that they both chased.

She sees the boy in robes far too big for him, without a clue of the world he was stepping into, of who she was, with a smile that was the purest thing she had ever seen.

And that, she clutches with all her might.

“Fly high…”

All her life she had been putting on airs, given displays to appease the darkness she thought to be the only reality she would ever know.

It was time to turn it the other way.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The feathers appear first, a fan of them weaved from threads of silver-white light that coalesced into eyes blaring with radiance unburdened. A slim form appears at their center, its neck long and head held high, and from it did the form of a bird make itself know. It flares its wings out, the light within surging with power unlike anything she had felt before. With a thrust from Draceana’s wand, does the peacock take flight.

And chases the abyss away.

[Andrew Snyder @Andrewnsnyder]

Secunda is one of my favorite pieces of video game music.

[ｺﾊｸ @kohaa__ku]

#malfoid

[b r o o k e *:･ﾟ✧ @peachlybeloved]

This is what people don’t understand about Dostoyevsky’s literature.

[Daddy Warpig @DaddyWarpig]

Sometimes It Do Be Like That

[Sachi @Sachi_Hwa]

Maybe Harry had a little Polyjuice mishap...🐱

[Isaac Young @HariSel57511397]

Yeah, I'm not at all familiar with Harry Potter, so it was difficult choosing a scene. But my absolute favorite trope is finding the good in characters through their absolute lowest/darkest moments. Malfoy attempts to kill Dumbledore because he's an asshole. Malfoid tries because she's manipulated and pushed over the edge by everyone surrounding her, desperately trying to protect someone she's grown to love.

[froggy @echngocutii]

A little elegance, a little arrogance
#malfoy ✨💚

[The Exiled Draco @theexileddraco]

Stronger Together

The Death Eaters make their final push against Hogwarts! The castle is reaching its breaking point!
The Boy Who Lived and Lord Voldemort have their fated clash...But this time Harry will not be alone.

1/5

[definitely casey @cantsmokehere]

A TWEET WITH FOOTNOTES

[Nick @TheLastGodzilla]

There’s a scene from How I Met Your Mother where Ted’s at a friend’s wedding and he’s talking about how he’s given up on finding love.

Specifically he says: "It's just every day I think I believe a little less, and a little less, and a little less... and that sucks. What do I do about that?"

And in response Robin says: “You just have to start believing again. You need chemistry, but more than that, you need timing.”

It gives Ted hope again, and in a strange way a lot of this Malfoid content feels like Robin’s response.

I’ve been single for such a long time that I stopped feeling any particular way about it. I still want to be with someone, obviously, but it’s just a feeling you get used to.

In a strange way, this trend has changed that. It gives me hope again that I’ll find someone, and all of this time being alone will have been worth it. It also makes me want to put extra effort into being romantic in dating. People are too casual now, it hardly feels like people really love each other anymore. I don’t want to end up in a relationship where we both just tolerate each other, I want actual love and chemistry.

Someday we’ll all make it, and maybe we’ll look back on this trend and talk about how it affected us for the better.

[Coda @usaalock]

I wish I could incorporate such beautiful and subtle visual metaphors into my works but alas I'm just a pervert

[Devon Eriksen @Devon_Eriksen_]

After a day as terrible as the one he’d just had, Harry was more than ready to shamble back to the Gryffindor dormitory, throw himself onto his narrow bed without so much as pulling back the covers, much less undressing.

But as he climbed, the noises coming down the stairs from the boys’ section told him this probably wasn’t going to happen.

It sounded like someone ransacking one of the rooms. There were definite rummaging noises, punctuated occasionally by the sound of a thrown object bouncing off a wall or some furniture, and a muted sputtering, as if someone were trying to swear in frustration, but couldn’t, not really, because she didn’t actually know all that many bad words.

Wait.

She?

Harry bounded up the last few stairs, and the hall, and through the door. Then stopped dead in his tracks.

Even though he had already heard what was happening, what he saw was the last thing, the very last thing, the absolutely last thing, that he ever expected to find.

It was Malfoy.

She stood over Harry’s bed, surrounded by a scattering of Harry’s possession all over the floor, spilled from an overturned chest, all the drawers she has removed from his dresser.

No one else seemed to be around.

Harry was too surprised even to be properly angry. He could only sputter out the first thing that popped into his mind.

“Malfoid? What are you doing here?”

She whirled to face him, her face twisted in a furious expression. There were dust bunnies clinging to her skirt, and her hair was an absolute mess.

“Stop calling me that! My name is Draecina! Dray-see-na! Draecina Esmerelda Aribeth Malfoy! The Third!”

Harry rallied his thoughts a bit. “I’m not going to say all that. And you haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here? How did you even get into the Gryffindor dormitory at all?”

“Fairy lights,” she snarled at him, “The password is ‘fairy lights’. Did you really think I couldn’t get that information out of one of you weak-minded idiots any time I wanted?

“Except the last place, the very last place, that I would be caught dead is your bedr— your dorm room! If I didn’t need to find it!”

“Find what?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, Potter! You know what I’m looking for! A doll! Made out of beeswax infused with moonleaf sap and three drops of my blood, which you probably collected last year when we fought the Bandersnatch. Then you dressed it in a scrap of my clothing that you stole from somewhere, and bound the neck, wrists, and ankles with three strands of your hair!”

Harry was far too surprised to say anything. He’d never seen or even heard of any doll like that, of course. But the description seemed oddly… specific.

“Does that sound familiar, Potter? I found the spell you used! It took me a year of searching through half the library, but I found it! Now tell me where the blasted doll is so I can take this curse off!”

She kicked a pile of what turned out to be Harry’s spare robes, and then looked disappointed that they didn’t fly very far.

“Malfoid —”

“Draecina!”

“— I have no idea what you’re talking about. What curse? Did someone curse you?”

“Of course they — of course you did! Just look at me!”

Harry was looking at her. Same pale blonde hair, so blonde it was more snow than gold. This was the first time Harry had ever seen so much as a strand of it out of place. Same dainty, aristocratic features, upturned nose and pointy chin. Come to think of it, those green eyes, smoldering with fury, had slight dark shadows under them for once.

And her wrists seemed the same, too. For some reason, Harry’s gaze always seemed to linger on her wrists, on how very pale and delicate they looked, on how they always seemed to pose at some elegant angle.

“I… ah… can’t stop looking at you.”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

“I mean, because you’re standing in the middle of my room throwing all my stuff on the floor. If there’s some sort of curse on you, I don’t see any effect. What’s it supposed to do?”

“Hah! As if you didn’t know! There’s no one here but the two of us, so there’s no point in pretending you don’t know!”

“Malf — ah, Draecina, I really have no idea what you’re talking about. How do you know you’re under a curse, and what is it that’s happening?”

Her expression shifted from rage to… well, if it was anyone but Malfoy, Harry would have called it a pout.

“Oh, I see. You just want me to say it out loud, so you can humiliate me more. Well, I won’t. And I won’t give you the satisfaction of hearing me beg. So gloat if you have to, mudblood. Get it over with. Have your fun. Then. Take. It. Off.”

“Look, I really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t cursed you.”

“Last year in potions class, you turned me purple!”

“Well, yes, that. But it wore off in a few hours. And you deserved it for hiding that Strong Toad in my locker. I mean I didn’t do it this time. If someone’s really cursed you, then couldn’t it be… well, you haven’t exactly been nice to a lot people, have you? It could have been anybody.”

“No, couldn’t! It has to be you, because you’re the one that I — arrrrrrghhh!”

She trailed off in a snarl of pure frustration, and then slowly and deliberately drew her wand out of her jacket and pointed it at Harry, squinting down the length of hazelwood.

“Harry Potter, you take this curse off me right now, or I’ll… I’ll… well, I’ll think of something equally awful to do to you!”

Harry didn’t doubt it. And only now it occurred to him that, like every wand carried by every student, it wasn’t just a tool, or a device for playing harmless pranks. Wands could be weapons, and some spells you could do with one were no laughing matter.

He thought about going for his own wand, trying a simple disabling spell to buy some time to talk sense into her. It wouldn’t be impossible. He usually beat her in Wizard Dueling practice.

On the other hand, her wand was already pointed right at him, which was more than a little bit of an advantage. Maybe he should just skip right to the talking-sense part.

Not that talking sense into Draecina Malfoy was ever the easy option.

“Look, Drae, I —”

Why did he call her that? Only her friends called her that.

“I really didn’t do anything to you this time. If it’s something really bad, can’t you just go to one of the instructors for help?”

“Oh, you’d just love that, wouldn’t you? Me humiliating myself like that. Well, fine. If you’re sooooooo innocent, and you just have nooooo idea what I’m talking about, then prove it!”

“What?”

“Prove it!”

“How I supposed to prove —”

Malfoy tore at the neck of her blouse with her other hand, and a single button popped off, bouncing away somewhere into the mess, as she came up with a small pendant, hung around her neck on a black leather cord. Her hair mussed every which way again as she yanked it over her neck and head, and thrust it at him.

“There! See? I came prepared! Take it. Go on, take it!”

“What… is that?”

He could see it clearly enough, a little white stone on a gold bezel, shaped a bit like an egg, and carved with… well, carved with something. Not for the first time, Harry wished he had paid more attention in Runes class.

“It’s a Truthstone, idiot. Don’t you know anything? Why should any decent wizarding school waste its valuable time trying to educate useless mudbloods like you if you’re not going to come out any smarter than dirt?

“You hold it, stupid. Now put your grubby fingers on it and hold it up where I can see, and tell me the filthy lie you just told me. Say it again. I dare you. Say it again so I can put a hex on you that the entire faculty won’t be able to remove for a week. Er… as soon as I pick one out, I mean.”

Bemused, Harry reached out, very slowly, and took the stone from her. It seemed unusually cool in his fingers. Belatedly, it occurred to him that he could have just grabbed her wand and disarmed her instead, or at least tried to. But however this… Truthstone… worked, if it could prove he wasn’t lying, then perhaps he could find out what on earth was going on.

He held it up in front of his face, between thumb and forefinger. Stared past it into her green eyes that still glittered with suppressed rage.

“Okay, fine, look. I didn’t know you were under a curse, I have no idea what curse you might be under, I didn’t put it on you or ask anyone else to put it on you, and I have no idea who did. Okay?”

The stone… did nothing. Harry really had no idea what it was supposed to do, whether it was supposed to do something if he told a lie, or to force him to tell the truth, or what. But it just stayed slightly cool in his hand, with no light, no noise, no vibration. As if it were just a rock.

Draecina’s face went blank with shock.

“But… but… I thought that…”

The pointing wand wavered and drooped, slowly, until it hung at her side.

“But, if you didn’t… If I’m not cursed… Then I actually…”

She didn’t seem to be able to finish a sentence, much less explain herself.

“No. No, no, no. It’s not possible. It’s not!”

She leaped forward and snatched the stone out of his hand, hunching over it, peering at it intently, shaking it as if it were a malfunctioning watch.

“No, no, no, no, you must have tricked it somehow, you must…”

Then she straightened up, staring at him, blinking rapidly. Her eyes seemed to be watering for some reason.

“Damn you, Potter! I hate you! I hate you so much!” she screamed, hurling the Truthstone past his head with a full arm motion, where it bounced off the wall with a loud clack.

And then she stormed out of the room before Harry could even open his mouth, much less think of anything to say, leaving him alone with the mess she had made.

Wondering what that was all about.

Wondering if she had meant to miss.

As he stooped to try to sort out the mess, or at least begin to figure out even how to sort it out, the first thing his hand landed on was the Truthstone, lying under it tangled leather cord.

It didn’t seem any worse off for having been thrown against the wall. It wasn’t chipped or cracked or broken.

Except now, for some reason, it was jet black.

[DDD @DorahDew]

Pastime with Cunning Hares 😊

[WarlordTom @TomWarlord]

"Dobbie didn't come in here, did he? I told Lucius about Malfoid researching birth control potions and he was chasing the little bastard all over Hogwarts whipping the shit out of him. Anyway Harry, just so you know, I deliberately slipped her a faulty potion recipe. 50 points."