More than I can say

Content warning

This work contains explicit depictions of sex between male characters and under-negotiated kink. It is intended for adult audiences only.


Inspired by everything you could ever want by eleadore

“You slimy bastard.”

Startled from a deep reverie, Draco almost drops his book. He looks left and right over his shoulders, but there’s no one behind him, their corner of the Slytherin common room quiet and private. He lifts his eyebrows at Pansy. “Who? Me?”

“It’s true, then? What people have been saying? You were snogging someone in the broomshed. Who is he? I demand to know, right now.” She crosses her legs, folding her hands over the latest issue of Witch Weekly on her lap—the deadly stance of a predator about to pounce.

Draco takes breath to say something—never mind that he’s got no clue what that might be—but she isn’t done yet.

“And don’t you dare lie to me, Draco Lucius Malfoy. You have the glow about you. I just realized, and I’m terribly upset. You never had the glow about you when you were dating me.”

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More than I can say

Inspired by the phenomenal story everything you could ever want by eleadore, More than I can say is a sequel and a love letter. Writing it was more fun than I’ve had with a story in ages, and so, so rewarding. Many thanks to eleadore for her kindness and support, and for writing the lovely piece that set this in motion in the first place.

“Your Incarcerous, though,” Potter went on with a grin, “that was wild.” He looked over his shoulder at the blooming bush, picked one of the dramatic white flowers, and buried his nose in it.

Draco’s cheeks burned.

“Was it on purpose?” said Potter, twirling the flower.

Yes, absolutely, is what Draco was supposed to say, but embarrassment had made him stupid, and he shook his head.

“Thought so.” The apple of Potter’s throat went up and down. “Can I kiss you?”

Draco nodded, melting.

Read here, or on AO3.

Draco Malfoy and the Mirror of Erised

One hallway, two spiral staircases, three turns, and they were lost.

Draco should’ve known better than to put his trust in Vince and Greg. Oh, he believed they’d seen something. They weren’t smart enough to make up the story they had told him in excited whispers over breakfast. How they spied Mrs. Norris slink into a narrow passage on their way back from detention and followed her into a part of the castle they’d never been to before. How they had to hide when Filch appeared out of nowhere. How they saw a door open and close like someone invisible was passing through it. And behind the door, something worth giving each other a black eye, and another week of detention.

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Bruised — a Harry Potter fic

My first Harry Potter fic is, of course, all about Draco Malfoy. I’ve fallen in love with these two by reading other people’s fic, and with this, I hope to give a little something back. 💝

Hidden behind the heavy oak door, Draco felt his upper arms gingerly. Mother had had a house elf heal the bruises with magic, but his flesh still held the memory of pain.

Read the story here, or on AO3.

Bruised

By the time they reached Madam Malkin’s, Draco was exhausted. He didn’t even protest when Mother left him alone and went to look at the wands, though he suspected she was rather more interested in the perfume shop they’d passed on the way. Just like she had suspected Father of ulterior motives when he’d volunteered to get Draco’s schoolbooks.

“Just stay out of Ogden’s,” she had hissed through clenched teeth, while smiling tightly at some acquaintance or another.

Draco had wondered what “Ogden’s” was, but he’d known better than to ask.

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