Older Drarry Recs (In Their 20s/30s)

Prongsfoot. An illustration for this microfic.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

W H Auden

My second Tomarry Big Bang submission

I loved writing the story for this, it felt like a warm hug 😌

For my sanity’s sake we need to start normalizing drawing/writing more happy Tomarrymort lol

My submission for this year's @tomarrybigbang! A pool day for Harry and Voldemort and their younger selves.

Drarry Kid Fics

✨ Pregnant Draco

Preach

It's interesting how it's more acceptable to be an "evil" character with redeeming qualities than a "good" character with flaws. Both are morally gray, so what's the difference? Aesthetic?

(Ex: Draco vs. Ron, Regulus vs. Snape, Narcissa vs. Molly)

Wanted to share this Golden trio fluff:

Who was Harry Potter anyways? The Chosen One? The Boy-who-lived? The Saviour and Golden Boy of the Wizarding World?

Did the press actually got it right when they wrote pieces about him? Could they know what kind of person he was by amounting together the major events on his life?

Could he?

Did Hermione and Ron knew who his best friend was? During those nights filled with dread when the dead became living and the living bled to death, did they know?

When they took his hand and slept right there besides him, whispering sweet nothings until he fell asleep again—could they describe who he was with the same certainty one would talk about the lush and green hills in Scotland?

Mione watched him with that look of hers; one of unwavering faith. Her eyes softening as she lulled him to sleep.

The moonlight filtered through the tiny gap between the curtains back in his room in Grimmauld Place, illuminating the seven freckles scattered in her nose and cheeks. A hundred years could pass and he’d still be able to trace those freckles to memory, like one traces the starts and constellations in the nightsky. She’d stay there for hours, stroking his hair and drawing silly patterns in his skin. Like a mother would. Soft fingertips and soothing lullabies.

With the tenderness of a mother, the devotion of a lover and the undying loyalty of a friend.

In those moments he could be sure of one thing: Hermione Granger knew exactly who Harry Potter was: His best friend, the person looking back at her with grief and open adoration.

And Ron. Ron held him while Mione grounded him and brought him back to Earth. Soft breath tickling his neck. He was too tall for the bed, so most times his feet stayed dangling from the edge.

Ron was home, Ron was family.

Ron was the first person to ever say I love you, chubby cheeks bouncing as he smiled. Honest in his love like only kids are.

There wasn’t much of that Ron in the 6’2 ft tall man that layed besides him. Except maybe his eyes. They were blue, blueblueblue, round and big and completely sincere. Every emotion Ron felt reflecting back on them.

Violent but oh so soft. Harry had never seen the ocean, but he reckoned that’s how it looked like.

His presence was enough to make the world stop spinning, so he stayed with them: A hand in his arm or a leg tangled between Mione’s.

Always touching.

His silence saying more than a million words could.

I’m not going anywhere Harry. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever again.

But so they knew? Did they even care?

You’re every Harry love, the ones you like and the ones you don’t

Harry Potter was the guy that passed the Auror official test in record time. The one that spent a year hiding the clues of his slow descent into insanity under red leather robes and tightly wrapped bandages.

Harry Potter was the man who stayed alone in New Year’s Eve changing napies and falling asleep besides his godson as he burnt in fever.

It was the five year old boy that one day came home from school with a carefully written card he’d dedicated to his aunt on Mother’s Day.

It was the boy who loved to fly. That felt more free in the air than any place on Earth. The one that enjoyed the breeze against his hair and the feeling of wood under his fingers.

It was the man that spent half a year in muggle parties with his best friend’s sister fucking his way through London. High with the thrill of anonymity and pissed out of his mind.

The man more scared of his own shadows than he was of any threat out there.

The one that stood in front of Voldemort when he was 17 and killed him like he was born to do so.

Harry Potter was the man scared of dark and cramped spaces. The man that fell apart in his best friends’ arms and sobbed for hours like he couldn’t do with anyone else.

It was the little boy who looked just like his father, that had his mother’s eyes.

It was the man who loved with every fiber of his being, that loved and loved like it was a race. That burned and consumed and desperately wanted to be loved back. It was the man that remembered Molly’s favorite way of taking her tea, that visited Goerge on the weekends at the shop—the one that discussed muggle phones with Arthur. It was the man Andy could always remember his daughter with.

Harry Potter was the boy that walked to his death on a cool May evening because he loved. Because he pictured a future where his friends could laugh and breath freely again, even if he wasn’t a part of it.

And so Hermione stroked his hair, and Ron hid his face in the crook of his neck, and so they’d remind him.

I love all of them Harry, each and one of them

You’ve carried enough burdens mate, leave some of them to us alright? We’ll carry them too

Harry Potter was Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley’s best friend. And sometimes, that was enough.

😏 🤭 mmmm

james potter the man that you are

And for another monthly fic recommendation…Drum rolls….

DRARRY

(The art was done by the talented @littlewinnow)

And The Illusion that One Can Get Things Right

119k, Complete, Explicit

The synopsis: Blindsided by Ginny's sudden departure from his life, Harry struggles to care for his family—replete with a new baby. The situation plummets from disarray to pandemonium just as Draco Malfoy arrives to drop Scorpius off for a visit, because of course it does.

IT WAS SO SO SO CUTE

James, Albus, Lily and Remy stole my heart. The friendship between the Potters and the Malfoys felt so natural and tender ugh, I loved every chapter with them on it. Seeing Harry try to do his best as a recently single father, trying to give his kids the love and attention they crave after Ginny left WITHOUT neglecting his other duties? Juggling with the needs of a newborn baby, two moody teenage kids and an adorable ten year old girl? Poor guy was STRUGGLING.

And then, so organically you can’t help but be in awe of the author’s skills, Draco and Scorpius enter their lives: restoring the natural order of things with small gestures and every day domesticity. IT MADE ME MELT 💕

I loved the way Draco helps Harry carry the heavy burden on his shoulders, all without losing that iconic Malfoy sass. AND THEN THEY START FALLING IN LOVE 😭 So slowly and naturally, like it was meant to happen from the start. STOP IT 😫❤️

This fic felt like a warm hug, so tender and fluffy and spicy at the same time. One hundred percent recommended.

Happy Birthday, Harry Potter

We're super excited to announce The Tortured Poets Fest, a Harry Potter themed fest centered around Taylor Swift's newest album! ✨

Calling all writers, artists, and video editors! Below are important dates, rules, and information you'll need to know if you'd like to join in with us. This fest is focused on The Tortured Poets Department — Taylor Swift's newest full-length album released on April 19, 2024.

This fest is open to ALL Harry Potter generations including Marauders, Golden Era, and Next Gen. All pairings are welcome!

We've also created a little community of participants on Discord to help with round tabling and creativity. We'd love if you joined us! This is an 18+ only fest.

⚡️ Timeline

Sign-Ups Open: April 22, 2024

Sign-Ups Close: May 20, 2024

Submissions Due: June 24, 2024

Posting Begins: July 1, 2024

🌙 Sign-Ups & Claiming

You must complete the Google Form for your sign-up as well as claim your choice of prompt on the AO3 collection.

You may only claim one prompt at a time. If you finish your prompt, you may claim an additional prompt, but you must submit your first prompt as per submission guidelines.

One song prompt can be claimed by multiple people (it's not first come, first serve). You can use a song in any way you like for inspiration — title, lyrics, vibes… You do not need to title your work after the song or use lyrics in any way if you don’t want to.

Collaborations are welcome! Collabs can be illustrated fics, multi-writer fics, multi-artist artworks, etc.

✨ Creating

All ships from all generations are welcome (Marauders, Golden Era, and Next Gen). This is not a ship-specific or generation-specific fest.

There is a minimum word count of 1,000 words for all submitted fics. For podfics, the recorded story should be a minimum of 1,000 words. There is no maximum for either fics or podfics.

Multi-chapter fics are allowed, but you must finish the first chapter of the fic by the submission deadline.

All works must be tagged appropriately! In light of the mental health topics alive and real in this album, please consider yourself, your fellow participants, and your readers when discussing any themes on mental health in your works.

🏛️ Posting

Posting will begin on July 1, 2024, and the schedule will not be publicly released.

If you have any questions, please feel free to drop us an ask!

—

From your Tortured Poets Mods — @imdamagecontrol @wolfpadx @lemonlans @heartsoncover @multiimoments @abz-coralsunset and it's many helpful and incredible organizers who managed to put this whole fest together in a few days' time 🖤

That scene was so cathartic, god

after Sirius’ death.

-

(book scene) “I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?” “Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human–” “THEN–I–DON’T–WANT–TO–BE–HUMAN!” Harry roared. (HP5, The Lost Prophecy)