Does anyone have a link to a back-to-basics article about good fanfic practices, like standards of content and chapter length and such (speaking as an old fart who only wrote a couple of shitty one-shots back when lemons were a thing)
✨They’re dating✨ I needed a boost of serotonin so I decided to draw my beloved couple: possessive Draco and clueless Harry.
Btw, I feel like he’s prettiest Draco I’ve ever drawn. I usually prefer him with wavy long hair with a man-bun or something like that, but I think that it makes more sense that he didn’t have such long hair or that kind of hair style before his 20s.
Love,
Cuckooboo
Written for day four @hpkinktober prompt Amortentia.
Thank you so so much to @rockingrobin69 for the wonderful beta and great cheerleading. You really helped my spirits.
Amortentia is fickle. It's a fickle potion, due to how its properties constantly change. The ingredients stay the same, Draco knows them like the back of his hand. But the smell changes — consistently.
He would brew small portions, to keep a few vials on hand. Wanting the shop to smell comforting, clean and welcoming with the potion happily bubbling in the far back, behind a closed door.
Everyone smelled something distinct, a sensitive nose to what was lingering around the bottles, trinkets and ingredients. All customers would comment on the fragrance of the shop, saying how lovely the smells always were. Many would comment on the familiarity, only changing the most miniscule amount. Draco always found that rather fascinating.
Were these people falling out of love? Did their heart split into two and the aroma linger on two or more objects of their affections? Draco always wondered and pondered. Others would stop in while browsing and compliment the new fragrance for today, making Draco aware of their own hearts wandering nature.
It was something to pass the time. Pure amusement when he would watch his customers’ eyes glaze lightly — the smell entrancing them for mere seconds. Shaking their heads and continuing on as if nothing had stopped them in their tracks.
He enjoyed this, but also did this for selfish reasons. His shop was home, and this helped solidify that notion. Smells being the closest to memory and emotion — Draco knew how his Amortentia smelled.
It never did change.
When Granger first walks into the shop, a tiny bell tinkling announcing her arrival, Draco is rather surprised. She asks about Valerian root, and what potions he has in stock for sleeping aid. He's still rather surprised she's even here, looking at his inventory and asking about proper sleep potions.
However, she does compliment how clean the shop is — and how gorgeous it smells.
"Like a crisp autumn morning and baked treats. A lot like treacle tart."
He knows his eyebrows raise to his hairline, and also knows she has to be smelling Weasley. Which is a little off-putting — but he thinks it's because Weasley has never really been his favorite person. He'd rather not know what he smells like.
Granger brings Potter into the shop a few days later. Draco finds it amusing how he ogles the crystals at one side of the shop, eyes wide with wonder. Poking at the magical plants in the corner and picking up a few potions for purchase.
Almost as if he hasn't been a wizard all his life.
They both walk towards the counter as Draco opens the till and the smell is so overwhelming that tears prickle his eyes as he raises a hand quickly to his nose.
"Are — are you alright?" Potter looks concerned and Granger has one brow raised in a quizzical expression.
"Yes — I thought I was going to sneeze. Pardon me."
Draco continues with their purchase, with the bouquet circling up and around his nose, filling his head and making him float.
It's broom polish, sandalwood with hints of citrus. Still the same after all these years —he just wasn't aware of who the potion portrayed.
Days go by, and he contemplates the idea of throwing away any and all of the potion that sits in his back room, behind the closed door. Wants to scrub the pearlescent liquid away and never have it trace his shop again.
But this smell — the one that smells of home and love. He's grown so accustomed to it, that he can't bring himself to toss the cauldron. Lets it simmer and sit like he always does. The incense and deep perfume still wafting throughout his shop as he sits in the back with the small sign on the door flipped to closed.
Granger is a regular now. Picking up items that she needs for additional health purposes, potions for Weasley and their tiny freckled baby at home. She's an interesting witch, though Draco will never speak that aloud to anyone — she invites him to the pub. His mouth hangs open and she smiles as he agrees and is now irritated with the predicament he's placed himself in.
He slides into the seat next to Granger as she passes him a glass of whiskey and a pint.
"I wasn't sure what you drank, so I grabbed the drinks I thought you might enjoy."
He smiles at her, and feels oddly at home.
Draco is well into his third pint when Potter stops by, sliding into the open seat next to him.
"Hello. Hermione did say that you'd be here this evening."
Potter grins and Draco's stomach jumps into his throat. He's never really been this close to Potter before and he smells exactly like his shop. He's mortified with himself and doesn't quite understand it.
The smell has never changed all these years.
"Did you work today?" Potter takes a sip from his glass, foam stuck to his beard as he dabs it away with a napkin.
"Earlier I did, yes." Draco sips on the small shot of whiskey, the burn sliding all the way down his throat.
"Ah, that makes sense — you smell just like your shop. It's like parchment and lavender. I always wondered how you made it smell so nice."
Draco chokes on the rest of his whiskey.
Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini Additional Tags: Vampires, Clubbing, Drinking, Bodyguard Harry Potter, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Post-Canon, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Third Person Limited, Getting Together, Minor Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini Summary:
After quitting his job as an auror Harry finds himself frequenting one of wizarding London's grimy underground bars. Along with it comes a new drinking partner in the form of alleged illicit potions dealer Draco Malfoy and rather more run-ins with creatures of the night than Harry ever expected.
“Lost your friends Potter?”
“They’ve ditched me.” Harry replied morosely, wondering what had possessed him to plonk down next to Draco Malfoy of all people. He blamed his traitorous friends for ignoring him. “Sickeningly loved up the lot of them.”
Draco screwed up his nose in disgust at that, an action which combined with the alcohol induced pink flush across his cheeks Harry absently noted was kind of cute. Wait, what? Harry glared down at his champagne glass. How many of these had he had?
“No date then?” Harry asked, when it became apparent that Draco wasn’t going to initiate any further conversation.
Draco smirked slowly and raised his left arm just enough that the sleeve of his sky blue dress robe slipped back to reveal the reddened edge of his dark mark.
“With this glowing endorsement branded into my skin you’d think suitors would be throwing themselves at me wouldn’t you?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Alright you arse, I get it — let’s talk about something else.”
“Oh? What makes you think I’m going to waste any more of my evening talking to you?”
Draco’s tone was cutting but Harry didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped, could almost feel the caress of his appraisal across his body. Already this ministry ball was seeming a lot less dull.
“Why not? We’re both here tonight, together.” Harry drained his glass and stood. The room was too hot, too loud and he’d spotted a secluded balcony earlier which looked perfect for what he had in mind. He extended his hand to help Draco from his chair. “What have you got to lose?”
@drarrymicrofic prompt: Waste It On Me by Steve Aoki ft. BTS
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this is a gift for the amazing, wonderful @o0o-chibaken-o0o who suggested ‘drarry at an art gallery’ like seven months ago. You are a brilliant person who makes this fandom a better place and I love talking to you!!! Hope this is what you were looking for!… Easily my favorite comic I’ve ever worked on. Also dean is a badass ❤️❤️❤️
I suppose it’s a testament to Tolkien’s economy of language that the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy – interminable preamble and endless appendices and all – has a smaller total page count than the individual books of your average modern doorstopper fantasy series, yet manages to pack in such a high density of worldbuilding detail that reading it feels like it takes about a thousand years.