Hi. Has someone already said that CANCELLED! is about the Slytherins? No?

hi, yeah, so… I have no idea who this man is, but he’s Theodore Nott. I don’t make the rules

Ooh these are giving major #Hansy post-war vibes 👀

Harry, tired of everything, escapes to a quiet Italian estate, only to find Pansy there too (because, of course, the Zabinis own the place). Now they’re stuck together, pretending to hate each other while side-eyeing over glasses of wine

#dreo // overdramatic dad Draco

Draco Malfoy stood in the centre of the main hall of Malfoy Manor, hands stuffed into the pockets of his tailored trousers and one eyebrow arched in an unyielding line of displeasure.

Taylor wrote The Bolter about Pansy Parkinson. Change my mind.

#dramione //

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Hermione Granger possessed a far more daring disposition than was appropriate for a lady. This inclination manifested itself in many ways, most notably in her penchant for driving a carriage with a nonchalance that bordered on recklessness.

Without downloading any new pictures, where are you at mentally?

A little #dreomione pirate!au that I'll probably never finish for #wipwednesday

#dreo // fluff, Theo being a menace

The study door creaked open and Draco lifted his head from the papers he was examining just in time to see his boyfriend slip into the room.

#dramione //

Hermione Granger’s mornings had always been the same since she was eighteen: a relaxing shower right after the alarm went off, a cup of hot tea with a splash of milk at the kitchen table, and the latest edition of the Daily Prophet waiting to be read on the windowsill.

#dreomione // angst, arranged marriage, regency!au

The night was eerily still, bathed in the kind of silence that amplifies every sound: the creaking of old wood, the rattling of rain against the windows, the rustle of silk against skin.

#panville // nsfw

The fire crackling in the corner of Pansy's flat cast a warm golden glow over everything, fighting the thick blanket of snow that covered the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade outside the windows.

#dreo // (very) long drabble

“Just drop it, T. It’s pointless”.

Draco closed the spell book he was holding with a thud and sighed, releasing a small cloud of condensation into the cold mid-December air.

#dramione // don't know what this is

"It's not good enough."

Hermione’s eyes snapped to the kitchen island where Draco – his lips smeared with chocolate – was examining the muffin in his hand as if it were an explosive potion. "Excuse me?"

"The batter's too thick, the chocolate too bitter and..."

#dreo, because my feed is painfully lacking // a little angst, mostly fluff //

The sheets were stretched perfectly around Draco’s body, their whiteness accentuated by the sterile light of the hospital room.

#dramione // nsfw

The tome of International Magical Law lay open on the table, and she was hunched over it like a branch on water, her back curved and her hair tied haphazardly on top of her head.

The late afternoon light streamed through the trees, casting a warm glow on the grass flowing beneath her feet. Hermione was running, racing ever faster, heart pounding as she clutched the bouquet of wildflowers he had picked just for her with trembling fingers.