The scariest part of Azkaban had never been the dementors or the inmates. It wasn't even the sea that crashed around the prison in a perpetual storm. It was the solitude that forced you to confront who you really are on the inside. Hermione Granger knew what she was and why she'd been sentenced to this hell. In the cell next to hers however, Draco Malfoy wasn't quite so sure.

Fred's a flushed mess of ginger hair and freckles, and Oliver's never seen him like this. There's no barbs or witty remarks, no pranks or jokes or all that goes in between. He wonders, idly, if this is the part where he kisses him or if it's the part where he runs away to pretend this never happened, but it's Fred that makes the choice for him in the end.

The war ended, but life didn't end with it, even though it sometimes felt like it had. It isn't an easy road for the survivors as they seek to heal their world. Despite everything they persevere, trying to find closure and happiness, but it's a tightrope that they walk - one that spans the gap between being a lover, or a liar. Then again, the best of us are the people who are both.

"You were my best friend, one I was born to hate."

"It's ironic how those born off Tojours Pur will always find each other in the end" - Draco Malfoy reminisces over the fate of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black whilst at the wedding of two of its youngest descendants: The grandson of Narcissa and the great-granddaughter of Cedrella. For Beneath their stained lineage there beats the hearts of Blacks. Drabble! Gift!Fic

On a cold winter's night, inspiration strikes Voldemort that the true way to take over the magical world is to seize control of the music industry. Thus, he begins his reign as one of the most formidable music moguls in history. (In case it isn't yet clear, this is pure crack)

The Dark Lady has completed her ritual and has brought The Lord of Shadows back to the world. The Hallows lie twisted and broken as Death has been set free once more, in payment of resurrecting a soul who should never have died. With Daemons and Shadows walking the Earth once more, who will win the apocalyptic fight? The Order...or the Cult of Shadows? Book 3 of The Lord of Shadows

"Revenge, Mister Potter, is a dish best served cold," the Death Eater had said, all those years ago, as they sat across from each other in an interrogation room. "Thus, we have taken from you that which you value most in the world. Yes, yes, I can see your rage. I'll never see the sun again, wasn't that you said when I was arrested? How ironic. Neither will your son."

Our children were the price for our sins. [Prequel to The Broken Children]

Over the centuries, many people have gazed into the Mirror. (Written for the Fifty Shades Challenge at HPFC) [Drabble Collection]

They were happy. They were whole. They should have known it was too good to be true. It began with a murder of one, and it culminated in the rise of one of the most notorious serial killers to walk the streets of England since Jack the Ripper was at large. To think, though, that it all began with a bitter heart, a bottle of bourbon, and a very, very sharp knife. [Murder Mystery]

They are neither dark nor are they light. Instead, they walk the fine line in between, wielding the forces of both good and evil for the Greater Good.

Vows made in war are rarely kept in peace . . .

He looks at her, and for a sliver of a second she imagines a glimmer of bright green flashing through his black eyes. Lips part, and he asks, "Had you known my destiny, would you still have died for me?" (Dark!Harry AU)

Will you miss me when I'm gone?

TBA

For Scorpius Malfoy, the halfblood son of Draco and Hermione, there has only ever been one girl to truly capture his heart. Lily Luna Potter, his best friend's sister . . . [A Five-Part Anachronological Series depicting moments in the life of Scorpius and Lily]

Their world has been rebuilt, and the scars of the past have long since been healed. They've forgotten that dark things always come in threes and that peace is but a fragile thing. When finally this delicate peace is broke by the comings of a Third War, Draco and Hermione find themselves in a desperate race against both an immortal evil, and a past mistake that could doom them all.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. My heart to tarnish, my soul to rust.

Marlene tastes of strawberries and cigarettes, and it's not like any kiss he's had before. This kiss is a battle, a struggle for dominance, and it's a passion that he's always craved. Like a moth to a candle flame, he is drawn closer and closer to her, and he cards his fingers through her hair as he lets his other hand fall to support the small of her back.