Stories
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“I know this must all be very confusing for you, Minister, but I assure you, you are at St. Mungo’s and are under no immediate danger, your husband has been by your side all day and once he’s dropped your son off, Healer Malfoy will be back here to help us analyse just how much of your memory has been repressed by the curse.”
The whole sentence, from start to finish, made absolutely no sense to her.
Or.
Just f*cking read it.
Series
- Part 1 of Stories
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Draco feels the hot burn of the curse hit him and every muscle in his body ignites with it, but the pain doesn’t actually register in his brain yet. He can only think of one single word.
Move. Move. Move. Move!
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A skip ahead snippet of Our Life Story
Series
- Part 2 of Stories
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DO NOT READ THIS AS A STAND ALONE
Draco doesn’t know if the two Hebridean Blacks are arguing or doing some kind of mating ritual, but they’re continuously circling each other on top of the far off mountain. If it wasn’t for the full moon or the occasional puff of fire, you wouldn’t even be able to tell that the two marvellous creatures were up there. They were like a silent storm.
Series
- Part 3 of Stories
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“Dad?” Scorpius asks one rainy afternoon. “Why doesn’t grandma live here?”
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.Series
- Part 4 of Stories
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“Ginerva, this must be your most horrid idea yet and mind you I say this after being tricked into babysitting all of your brood at once.” There is simply no way that this week will end without violence.“Oh cool it, you dramatic old sod.”
“Old?!” He shoves her, but the red haired woman doesn’t even budge.
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- Part 5 of Stories
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Summary
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“Finally!” Potter calls out with all the audacity of Draco’s entchesters combined.
“Potter! I have half a mind to get you escorted out of this building for trespassing! My office is private space—” he halts his banter as he approaches the other man leaning against the opposite wall to Draco’s office. The door is closed, but Draco can see someone in there through the window. A kid, maybe about Scorpius’ age or a tad younger was spinning around in Draco’s chair. “What is this?”
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Series
- Part 6 of Stories
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Harry Potter is dead.
Killed by the mortification of his own actions.
That is what the Prophet is going to be printing in big bold letters tomorrow. Harry was sure of it.
“I mean it, Ginny. He pulled my hair so hard and wouldn’t back down. Most of his cock was down my throat and I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. The only thing that kept me going was his grunts and the way he was looking down at me. Like he wanted to sink his teeth into me and tear me apart.”
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Series
- Part 7 of Stories