Sitting there now, watching Scorpius watch the fireworks, Hugo was more than glad he'd agreed to sneak off despite his reservations. Sure, the view of the fireworks from the grounds was likely as spectacular. But nothing could beat being alone with Scorpius at the tip of the world, with the moon shining down between them and their faces glowing in the din of the afterglow.
Hiding out in Knockturn Alley behind Borgin and Burkes, its sandpaper surface scratching against his cloak, Draco's mind raced with the reality that he was branded for life. The Dark Mark would forever remain etched into his skin. There was no way out of this.
Padma curled into the couch with her notebook, quill poised in hand. Before she opened it, she glanced toward the dining room where her parents sat oblivious. For all they knew, she had been working on schoolwork all summer, not writing her very first novel. They'd never understand, anyways.
They were just two broken boys trying to fix whatever semblance of life they had left after their entire worlds came crashing down. Somehow, they'd found solace in each other.
What was the right thing to do then? Chastise her daughter for her poor grades? Or sympathize with her over a tough class? Worry about her future? Or take the time in the present to understand her daughter's frustration?
In the quiet moments before dawn turns into daybreak, Draco revels in the simple act of loving someone else. He knows, in the deepest recesses of his soul, that if Astoria hadn't rescued him from himself, he wouldn't have ever made it this far.
Horace Slughorn has a very unhealthy obsession. It was only a matter of time before someone took notice.
After Harry and his team of Aurors unearth on artefact belonging to Merlin, the Chosen One discovers an unimaginable truth within. Will Draco heed Harry's warnings, or will he forever be lost to time itself?
Fantasy!AU. Shadows are lurking, swallowing everything in their path, consuming without pause. Yet hidden deep in the darkest forest lies a prophecy of a farm boy who holds the answer to saving the land and freeing its people once and for all. Will Draco be up to the task? With the help of the sorceress Astoria, it might just be enough.
Sirius looked at Remus from his seat beside the fireplace. He was still dressed in his day robes, his black hair an unruly, tangled mess framing his haunted face. Remus swallowed the lump forming in his throat. There was so much still left to say between them.
A new, improved family portrait, Orion called it. And her legacy would always be this woman who refused to look at the viewer. Luckily, Walburga Black had a few tricks up her sleeve to make her portrait just right.
Ron felt the weight of it pressing down on him. There was a lot to remember, a lot to get right, and no matter which way he looked at it, taking on Harry's face was like painting a glaring red target on his back that said, "Come and Get Me!" It's the night before the Seven Potters, and a few residents at the Burrow are feeling restless.
Growing up in Hermione Weasley's home taught Hugo two very important lessons: One, he would never be able to get away with anything, ever, so there was no use in trying. And two, when you wanted something you believed in with every ounce in your body—like fighting for the chance to be with the person you loved—you make it happen. And Hugo was going to make this happen.
Ron was filled with so much of everything lately—grief, anger, joy, resentment. Love. Hate. He hadn't been able to get a grip of his own emotions after Fred's death, and it killed him to see his family struggling through it, too.
She decided she liked his company. After all, talking with Draco Malfoy was easy, for some reason, and Astoria could only hope that the few encounters they'd had would continue to turn into more.
He still tasted the sour words he screamed at Harry on his tongue. Could still see the hurt etched on Hermione's face as the tent flap closed behind him. In the moments after Ron left his best friends alone on their Horcrux hunt, fear and guilt grip him. Will he ever make his way back?
Though years have past since the war, I am still reminded of those days. In the quiet moments, in the unseemliest of places. And yet, despite the subtle reminders, all that I know is I am more safe and loved than ever before. Hermione POV.
When Aragog is discovered, Rubeus Hagrid gets a second chance.
Harry Potter was not dead. No one knew that yet, except for Narcissa Malfoy, and she could feel the weight of her lie pressing in around her. It was suffocating.
Sometimes all it takes for two people to find each other is a little scare.