[Harry Potter] Malfoid Stories

[AndrewJTalon]

It's taken off like wildfire, and since the cunts over at Spacebattles hate it, I say we post Malfoid and Malfoid adjacent stories and ideas here. So I'll start us off!

---

"Potter... What a surprise."

Harry had his forehead against the cold brick of a deserted hallway. He had hoped he could maintain his solitude but... Not to be. He turned and glared at the eternal thorn in his side: One Lyra Malfoy. She smirked at him, one half of her platinum blonde hair hanging down the right side of her uniform, the rest artfully brushed back behind her. Her cold grey eyes mocked him as she looked him over.

"Couldn't even get a girl to go out with you?" She asked mockingly. "Even rejected the one girl who asked you?"

Okay, yes. He had automatically reacted and said no. He'd been so shocked it had just... Popped out! Then later, when Cho rejected him... Ugh...

"And do you have a date, Malfoy?" He asked sharply. Lyra flushed, and huffed. She turned her nose up, looking away as she crossed her arms under her chest.

"I've had a bevy of suitors... None of which met my standards."

"So you just turned them all down," Harry shot back, "That's your own fault then. You're no better than I am!"

Lyra huffed, her cheeks red.

"Just because I don't want to go out with some random rapscallion does not mean I'm as bad as you!"

"So you're alone by choice? Not something to brag about," Harry snorted. Lyra smirked.

"Yes, but unlike you, I don't HAVE to have a date to the Yule Ball, now do I?" She giggled wickedly, clearly enjoying his frustration.

"Sod off, Malfoy," he grunted. He turned to go sulk somewhere else...

"Potter."

He froze. He turned and scowled at her over his shoulder. She was flushed and cleared her throat.

"You know... Given you need a date and all... And I happen to be... Available..."

Harry blinked. Twice. He went for his wand and muttered "Enervate" as he tapped his wrist. No, he was awake all right.

"Are... Are you... Asking me out?" Harry asked, slowly and in disbelief. Malfoy's pale face went bright red as she clutched at the bottom of her school jumper.

"Don't misunderstand! I-I just... Hogwarts has two champions. I'm supposed to be on my best behavior for Father and if I was on the arm of one of the Champions, it will make me look good to him, and Hogwarts look good! This is simple-A simple transaction! You get a date, I make my father happy, we make the school look good!"

Harry again blinked as Lyra's knuckles turned white.

"Not interested."

He turned away again. Lyra hurried up and stood in front him, spreading out her hands.

"Wha-Are you seriously rejecting me?!" She demanded. Harry looked her in the eyes and nodded.

"I'm not that desperate," he sneered.

Lyra turned bright red and scowled.

"You have any alternatives?!" She demanded. She poked him in the chest. "Mister Boy Who Lived?! Not able to get a date?! Here I am offering a mutual-"

"What's the angle?" Harry demanded. "You never do anything that's not for your own advantage-"

"I TOLD you! I just want to make everyone happy-!"

"You are the QUEEN of Unhappiness! For everyone!" Harry growled. "So why should I trust you?!"

Lyra glared and grit her teeth.

"No. Tricks. The Triwizard is too important! I... Everything I did before is... It's reflected... Badly on me. My father isn't happy... We need to put the school ahead of this-"

"Why do you really want to go to the Ball with me?" Harry demanded. "Why?!"

Lyra glared.

"Because I WANT TO! I want YOU to take me to the ball, idiot! I WANT YOU TO TAKE ME TO THE BALL!"

"But why-?!"

"I TOLD YOU WHY-!"

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"

Harry turned and stormed back the other way... Again Malfoy got in front of him, panting angrily.

"Look! What would it take to convince you-?!"

"Apologize for calling Hermione a Mudblood," Harry stated firmly. Malfoy made a face like she had bitten into hot garbage... But slowly, she nodded.

"Fine... I'm... Sorry. I'm sorry I called her that."

Harry blinked in shock, but quickly focused back on his anger. He glared harder.

"And for Hagrid?"

"Fine! I'm sorry for that, too!" Malfoy managed, sounding like she was pulling her own teeth out. Harry smirked.

"Now say it in front of everyone-"

"Don't push it, Potter!" Malfoy growled. "My pride only goes so far! Original question: Will you take me to the ball?!"

Harry hummed. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Malfoy growled, her usually perfect hair out of sorts as she ran a hand through it in frustration.

"Yes or no?!"

"I'm thinking about it," Harry mused.

"ARGH!"

"Well... Since you clearly want it so much-"

"I DO not-!"

"Then yes," Harry said, "We can go."

Malfoy flushed. Her eyes went down to the floor. She again clutched at her jumper.

"Can... Can you..."

"What?"

"Can you... Ask me properly... Please?" She asked softly. Harry fought back his disbelief, and slowly shook his head.

"Why would I-?"

"Just...!" She sighed. "Please?"

Harry sighed again.

"... Would you like to go to the Ball with me... Lyra?"

She looked up at him. Her face lit up, her smile was wide and bright. Her eyes were wide and joyfuly. For a moment, she looked... Beautiful. His heart beat hard in his chest as she stared back at him.

"Yes!" She murmured... Then the smiled twisted back into a smirk.

"You'd better not mess this up, Potter. If you embarrass me I swear I'll make your life an endless hell!"

Harry scoffed.

"I'm not gonna-!"

"Of course you won't! I'll make sure!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him off.

"Wha-Where are we going-?"

"Shopping!" She huffed. "I'm making sure you're presentable! Don't bother worrying about payment, you couldn't afford to pay me back! And dancing-I'll teach you!"

"Hold on, you can't just-!"

"I can, and I will! Someone has to make sure you're civilized, Potter!"

Harry reflected, as Malfoy dragged him off, that he really didn't understand girls at all. He doubted he ever would.

---

This last year had been hell for Lucius Malfoy.

The Triwizard Tournament was eating up an enormous amount of time and energy. That Death Eater revival during the Quidditch World Cup had done far more bad than good-Even if it was pleasant to see the old symbol back up in the sky, it accomplished nothing useful. He'd had to manage a great deal of new investments from recent transactions, but most of that had gone to bribery after the Chamber of Secrets fiasco.

And to top it all off, Lyra was becoming a woman. He was glad to see her growing up, becoming a beauty like her mother... But she could be so very taxing at times.

"Hello Father," Lyra chirped, her head sticking through the Floo fireplace in his study, "I have good news!"

Speak of the devil...

"Oh?" He looked up from his paperwork, raising an eyebrow.

"I have secured an appropriate date for the Yule Ball," she said smugly. Lucius slowly nodded.

"Ah, excellent. Nott, I take it-?"

Lyra made a face.

"Father! Of course not him! He's completely unacceptable!"

"His family line is very-"

"And he's a boor and a nincompoop," she sniffed, "Would you really want that for your future son-in-law?"

He supposed he didn't. He was glad his daughter was so considerate.

"I suppose not... Flynt?"

"He's being held back, Father. Why would I want someone who deliberately stays in school just to win the House Cup?"

"Fair enough... Viktor Krum?" He pressed.

Lyra made a face.

"He's taken up with that Granger Mudblood," she sniffed.

"I see, most unfortunate," Lucius sighed. And it was. "So, who is this suitor?"

Lyra smiled mischievously.

"I am leaving it as a surprise, Father! You will see! But rest assured, you will approve. It will greatly improve our standing, I assure you."

Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure? Your little stunts in the past have cost us a fair amount."

Lyra's face fell, but she looked him in the eyes, determined and serious.

"I am quite sure, Father. I have learned from my mistakes. This is not one of them," she said, her voice firm with conviction.

Lucius studied her for a moment, seeing her mother in her. He slowly nodded.

"Very well," he said, "I shall trust your judgement, Lyra."

"Thank you Father. Excuse me, I need to make sure my date is presentable at Malkin's."

Lucius again raised an eyebrow.

"You're paying for his robes?"

"He is quite wealthy himself but he will owe me," Lyra said, "And as Mother taught me, most wizards are useless at fashion and proper signalling with it."

Lucius nodded.

"I suppose I will defer to your mother's wisdom. Just don't spend too much, Lyra."

"I won't Father."

She hesitated and said softly:

"Love you."

She ducked her head back into the flames and vanished. Lucius allowed himself a ghost of a smile.

If she was being that open with her emotions, she must truly like whoever she was taking to the Ball.

He had a feeling he would be pleasantly surprised.

- - -

Lyra returned from Madam Malkin's Floo, walking down the steps into the shop proper. She smirked as she saw Harry right where she'd left him: Under Madame Malkin's tender care in front of the mirrors. He saw her and scowled as she approached.

"What?" Lyra asked.

"Why is she doing this with pins and needles?" Harry demanded.

"Well, it keeps you here and out of trouble, doesn't it?" Lyra giggled.

"And I charge by the hour," Malkin tittered, making an adjustment. Harry winced.

"Besides," Malfoy said with a smile, "It keeps you from running off."

"I wasn't going to run off," he said quickly. Lyra laughed, and stepped in front of him, hands on her hips.

"Saint Potter can stand up to a basilisk, a hundred Dementors, a dragon: but getting fitted for new clothes-Now that's terrifying!"

"Take it as a compliment," Harry shot back. Lyra shook her head, laughing gently with Madame Malkin. He sulked a bit. She then noticed something, and reached up with a sigh.

"Really Potter, can't you tie a tie properly?" She admonished, undoing the knot. He flushed as she redid it.

"I-They're all self tying at Hogwarts!"

"Yes, but you should know how to do it yourself."

"I thought you wizards were all about never doing anything the Muggle way."

Malfoy snfifed, stepping in closer as she finished tying the tie. She could smell him: Ink, broom polish, the slightest hint of something masculine. She tightened his tie and looked aside to hide her blush.

"Muggles stole it from us, probably... And there's nothing wrong with knowing how to use your hands, Potter," she stated firmly.

She missed Potter's blush, but not Malkin's snorted laughter. She looked over at the seamtress with a scowl.

"What's so funny?" She demanded.

"You make a lovely couple," Madam Malkin commented. Both Potter and Malfoy blushed.

"It-It's just because he needs a date and it will be good for my family and Hogwarts!" Malfoy sputtered. "Nothing more!"

"Y-yeah!" Potter added, "That's all! I don't-I don't like her at all!"

"Double for me!" Malfoy insisted. "And anyway, what am I paying you for?! Not conversation, get on with it!"

Malkin chuckled and went back to work.

"To be young," she murmured wistfully.

 

[digcat]

Here you go.

Spoiler

 

[1986ctcel]

It's taken off like wildfire, and since the cunts over at Spacebattles hate it, I say we post Malfoid and Malfoid adjacent stories and ideas here. So I'll start us off!

Click to shrink...

Maybe if you didn't use the stupid name for it that includes the incel slur for women ("Femoid" becoming "Malfoid" rather than "Galfoy" or something equally fun and punny like that), they wouldn't hate it as much?

 

[Aleh]

It's taken off like wildfire, and since the cunts over at Spacebattles hate it, I say we post Malfoid and Malfoid adjacent stories and ideas here. So I'll start us off!

Click to shrink...

I thought they were pretty clear that it's the term that they have issues with (largely because of its connection to an incel meme) rather than the actual content?

 

[digcat]

Here's some more malfoid

Spoiler

 

[Unoriginal_Nick]

Maybe if you didn't use the stupid name for it that includes the incel slur for women ("Femoid" becoming "Malfoid" rather than "Galfoy" or something equally fun and punny like that), they wouldn't hate it as much?

Click to shrink...

"Ey Jimmy! Give me a pizza with nothin'!"

In any case... I kneel before the Malfoid propaganda. We, the council of Agenda Pushers, thank you for your contribution.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

I'm not going to spend my time arguing. I'm going to create.

---

Lyra Malfoy sat ramrod straight, perfect posture (as always) in Severa Snape's office. It smelled of potions, old parchment, and ink.

The older woman sat behind her imposing blackwood desk, face grave as always.

"Miss Malfoy, I wish to offer you some advice."

Lyra blinked curiously.

"What for, godmother?"

Severa took a deep breath, as though steeling herself.

"It is... Understandable why you deny your feelings. Romance for a girl in your position is complicated. Expressing them outwardly would be... Politically difficult, even if your father might approve-"

"What feelings?" Lyra demanded, her pale cheeks turning pink, "I-I have no feelings! If this is about Potter-!"

"It is," Severa said blandly. Lyra grasped the hem of her skirt in mortification, her face burning red.

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about-!"

"Then let me make it plain," Severa stated flatly, "Thanks to the war with the Dark Lord, the ratio of witches to wizards in your generation is three to one. It's almost that bad in mine. And given that magicals live much longer than Muggles, the age gaps between partners often fades into irrelevance. You're probably familiar with this by now?"

"Of course," Lyra sniffed, "But why are you-?"

"I am telling you this," Severa said, with infinite patience, "because the moment Potter is a legal wizard, he will have every unattached witch in Britain and beyond after him. His fame will make him a target. And the moment he realizes Weasley and Granger are girls, he may very well focus on them... Instead of you."

Lyra heard an enraged hiss leave her mouth.

How DARE they-!

Severa leaned forward, her expression almost gentle.

"Don't make my mistake and wait too long," she said softly. "Or let your pride prevent you from taking what should be yours."

Lyra flushed... Then slowly nodded.

"I... I will consider it, Godmother."

"Consider quickly."

---

And a set up for a harem fic. Have fun!

 

[Arty1234]

Maybe if you didn't use the stupid name for it that includes the incel slur for women ("Femoid" becoming "Malfoid" rather than "Galfoy" or something equally fun and punny like that), they wouldn't hate it as much?

Click to shrink...

Huh, so that's what it's based on, though I think it's become popular enough to be its own distinct thing and a subgenre of its own, don't think an alternative will catch on, Galfoy doesn't roll quite off the tongue, especially as Malfoid is just Malfoy with an id instead of y, though I think now it's less of a slur and more just how this specific fem!tsundere!draco is called. Though my first thought was that it was a play on droid, due to the tsun exterior.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Forbidden Forest was dark, scary, and ominous. Still, Harry trudged along with Malfoy in tow, Fang the boarhound walking alongside.

"Ugh... I can't believe this detention," Malfoy muttered, "I'm not going to stand for this, when my father hears about-"

Fang froze and growled. Harry could hear something rustling in the underbrush, see a dark shape... And Malfoy KEPT TALKING!

"Shut up!" Harry hissed. Malfoy puffed up like an offended cat.

"Shut up?! How dare you-!"

Fang turned and ran as the shadow approached. Finally, Malfoy saw it. The Malfoy scion froze, went even paler than usual, jaw dropped. Harry, for his part, reacted as anyone who had experience with imminent threats-He grabbed Malfoy's hand and ran for it back down the forest path.

"Run you git!" Harry shouted.

"I'm running! Stop pulling so hard, I keep tripping!"

Harry glared back at Malfoy.

"Run faster! And quit complaining like a girl!"

"I AM A GIRL!" Malfoy bellowed.

Harry didn't stop running, but he shot a look of utter disbelief at her.

"Wha-?!"

"I AM A GIRL, IDIOT!" Malfoy screeched. "NOW GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

 

[digcat]

Hahaha perfect

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The flames seemed like burning claws trying to drag them down into a horrible death. Yet Potter surged his power, and the broom flew, away from it all even as the heat chased them through the air.

She held on tightly, her eyes shut out of instinct. Then, slowly, she opened them. She saw his face through her tears: Grim, determined, utterly focused, like a knight on a charging steed, the wind in his hair, undaunted by the inferno surrounding them.

He was beautiful.

"Potter, I-"

"You don't have to say anything," he shouted into the wind, "just hang on!"

She buried her face in his shoulder, and held on tightly. Her tears strained his dirty jacket.

"Thank you," she whispered.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Sport

---

"Really Potter? A Chudley Cannons hat?"

Harry Potter was outside on the grounds, just relaxing in the crisp fall air between classes. He turned and scowled at the ever present annoyance, Lyra Malfoy. She smirked at him, as she always did, golden ring earrings shining lightly in the afternoon sun.

"Ron gave it to me," He said, resting a hand on his orange bobble hat, almost protectively. "It's a gift."

Malfoy scoffed, walking over with her arms crossed under her chest. He HATED when she did that, it was so distracting!

"Of course Weasley did," she rolled her eyes, coming to stand nearby. "His taste in teams is about as bad as your taste in everything."

"Oh really?" Harry snorted. "What would you know?"

"Oh for...!" Malfoy sighed in exasperation, "Don't you know anything about British Quidditch?"

"I have Quidditch through the Ages! Read it dozens of-!"

"Ugggghhh," Malfoy moaned, rubbing her temples in annoyance, "You really don't know anything, do you Potter?"

"Whatever you know, can't be worth anything."

Malfoy's scowl deepened. She strode up to him and pulled out a small book. She opened it up and pointed to a variety of entries of stats and numbers under Quidditch teams, going back... Decades?

"The Chudley Cannons were once the powerhouse team. They had twenty six winning seasons and half of those were championships! A quarter of all British Quidditch Hall of Famers are from the Cannons!"

"Well, sounds like Ron has good taste then-" Harry tried, but Malfoy interrupted.

"Fifty years ago! After that, they lost every season, every series, everything!"

Harry read through the statistics. He did actually have an eye for numbers, despite what Hermione said... At least when it came to sport. Said eyes widened in disbelief. She was right.

"What? Why?"

"They got complacent, of course," Malfoy snorted, "Thought they were royalty. They became lazy, and relied on famous players even as they aged out. They didn't properly draft new players or change with the times!" She shook her head, and smirked as she held up a pamphlet. "Not like my team!"

"Wiltshire Whirlwinds?" Harry read, raising an eyebrow. Lyra nodded enthusiastically as she pointed at moving pictures in the brochure. Of a well lit stadium with wooden bleachers, Quidditch players in green and silver uniforms flying about, and in one picture posing with several trophies.

"Yes! Oh, they were a joke once upon a time, but through determination, hard work, and fantastic management... Along with excellent advertisers... They climbed the ranks and became one of the best overall teams in the league! Not as many championships as the Cannons, but more MVPs, plenty of hall of famers... And they're NOT a joke."

Harry stared at her, and laughed a bit. She flushed.

"What's so funny?"

"Just... I didn't imagine you for a sports girl."

Malfoy sniffed, looking away with that typical superior expression on her face.

"As the heiress to the Malfoy name, it behooves me to comport myself properly. After all, my father owns a significant percentage of the Whirlwinds-"

"Of COURSE he does," Harry grunted. Malfoy ignored him.

"And as heiress, I must know how to manage our affairs!"

"But you like it, don't you?" Harry pressed.

Malfoy flushed again.

"... Yes," she admitted, "I wouldn't... I wouldn't play if I didn't."

Harry stared at her. For a moment, she wasn't Lyra Malfoy, Queen Bitch of Slytherin. She seemed... Like a regular girl. Just for a moment.

"... Anyway," she managed, "If you want to see real professional Quidditch... Not just the World Cup or whatever... My father does have box seats."

Harry blinked rapidly.

"You're... Inviting me to a game-?"

"If my rival is supporting a terrible team, it makes me look awful!" Malfoy said quickly, the bitchy attitude and superior smugness dropping down like the curtain on a stage. Still, she softened just a bit as she looked at him.

"But... It would be nice to go see one... Together, yes?" She asked quietly.

Harry opened his mouth, closed it... Opened it again, still had nothing. She scowled in irritation at him.

"Well?!"

"Well, uh... Sure. Maybe," he managed. Malfoy snorted.

"What? Afraid you'll toss away Weasley's hat for one supporting a real team?"

"No," Harry stated, "And if I do go with you? I'm wearing the hat. And I'm bringing Ron."

"Uggghhh... And here I was trying to do something NICE for you," Malfoy muttered.

 

[digcat]

Malfoy and Ron and they can't keep their hands off each other anywhere.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Year 4...

---

His stomach wouldn't stop doing flips. His breakfast had been light but even so, it wouldn't sit still.

He was waiting in the Champions tent, waiting for his turn to fight the dragon. The Hungarian Horntail, the worst of the lot.

He was off in a corner of the tent... When he heard a small voice outside.

"Potter?"

He moved the tent flap, just a bit. His eyes widened.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

She tensed. She licked her lips. The smug expression on her face, so natural, was nowhere to be seen.

"I... Came to see you," she whispered.

Harry glared.

"Why?" He hissed, "One last insult before I die?"

She winced. He was caught short by that. She took a deep breath.

"Just... Well... I saw the dragon and..."

"And what?" Harry asked, annoyed, tnese, impatient. What was her game? "I should have you thrown out right now and-"

She grabbed his collar and pulled him close. His nose bumped into hers. He could smell her-Lilac, lavender, and something he could only describe as feminine. Her eyes... Green and silver and wide...

"Wha...?"

She let him go and turned away. Her stance was tense. Her voice came out almost staccato.

"J-Just... Don't die, Potter," she whispered. "All right? Just... Do that for me."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"I... Wha-?"

"If you live, you can take me to the Yule Ball," she whispered. "Call it a prize, just... Please... Don't die... All right?"

Harry swallowed. His face felt hot. His heart beat hard.

"I... Why would I-?"

"Oh, j-just forget it, idiot!" She hissed, turning on her heel and storming off. He watched her go, feeling dazed.

What was that about...?

 

[digcat]

When Harry told her to eat a dick this wasn't what he had in mind.

Spoiler

 

[LordofBones]

Where's Dumbledore? Shouldn't he be assigning ridiculously large numbers of points to Gryffindor for driving Lucius insane?

 

[ImperialBriton]

Where's Dumbledore? Shouldn't he be assigning ridiculously large numbers of points to Gryffindor for driving Lucius insane?

Click to shrink...

Dumbledore is locked into a never-ending war with dobby, giving millions of points to Gryffindor, only for Dobby to snap his fingers, and erase them....

Lucius has already cleaned out his winecellar years ago, now he's in debt to the weasleys wizards winyards (Percy's plan to grease palms into a ministry job).

Snape has retreated into being a barely lucid husk, his ears filled with loud proclamations of 'Pottah', and teenage angst.

 

[ta8734]

Maybe if you didn't use the stupid name for it that includes the incel slur for women ("Femoid" becoming "Malfoid" rather than "Galfoy" or something equally fun and punny like that), they wouldn't hate it as much?

Click to shrink...

They consider "trap" ,which is a fairly common word used in anime and other media, as hateful, why should I care about what they think is a slur. And lets say it is just a slur like the n word, isn't calling a guy an incel the same, second why can't I call other people slurs when its funny, my friends of different races call each other slurs, third some of us don't want to live in HR world like you.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Year 7

Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office

---


Harry came out of the Pensieve memories. He just... Stared, not seeing. He saw Lyra was softly weeping over Snape's dead body.

He felt like he should be crying too, and yet...

"Potter?" She whispered. She waved her wand, transfiguring Snape's body into a wreath of flowers. She was always so elegant in everything she did, even this grim duty.

She walked over, and then sat down next to him. She grabbed his cheeks and turned his head to face her.

"Potter... Harry!" She hissed. "What is it?! What did you see?!"

He studied her face. Even after they'd spirited her away from Malfoy Manor in the chaos of their escape, even after months on the run in a tent, running low on food... Even dirty and exhausted, she still looked so beautiful. He reached up to cup her cheek, brush his thumb over her freckles. She flushed.

"Harry?"

"... It's me," he said softly. "I'm the last Horcrux... He made me when he gave me the scar."

Lyra stared at him, for a moment uncomprehending... Then her eyes widened in horror.

"No..."

Harry slowly looked up, to the portrait of Dumbledore on the wall. The late headmaster stared back, tears in his eyes.

"You knew all along, didn't you?" Harry asked.

The portrait nodded, solemn and sad. Lyra turned his eyes back to hers, her eyes wide, her breathing almost frantic.

"We-No-We can find another way-We can-!"

"There is no other way," Harry said quietly. She dug her nails into his shoulders, desperate.

"Th-Then we can run-Get out of the castle-Until we do-Go back to Grimmauld, go to-!"

"Lyra," he whispered. He reached up to hold her. Tears filled her beautiful eyes as her face screwed up in anguish.

"YOU CAN'T JUST... Just...!"

She cried, great heaving sobs tearing out of her as she buried her face in his chest. She clutched at him, trembling, nails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood.

He didn't register the pain. He just held her tightly.

"Harry... Harry... Please... I-I'm begging you-"

"It's the only way to stop him," he murmured, "When Nagini and I... After that, you can kill him. You... You need to find Hermione and Ron, tell them-tell everyone... You understand me, Lyra? You have to tell them. It's the only way to stop him..." He clutched her hand in his, and tilted her up head up to look her in the eyes.

Red lined, filled with tears, green silver... So beautiful it made him ache.

She managed a shaky nod... Then resumed sobbing, pressing her face into his chest.

He closed his eyes, stroking her back. Feeling her warmth, her softness. He smelled her hair: It was a bit dirty but still her... Still...

He wanted to imprint it all in his memory. To never forget.

He chuckled hollowly. He opened his eyes. He saw Lyra stare up at him, uncomprehendingly.

"... Godric Hollow," he said.

Lyra hiccuped.

"W-Wha...?"

"I think... I think it would look good, fixed up," he said softly, "I'd have to learn the spells but... It would be a nice home. You and me. I-I know it's smaller than you're used to, but... I'd let you decorate. We could build a garden. Have some chickens and pigs if needed... Not need to go to the market often."

She clung to him, sniffling, sobbing. He kept on.

"And... And we'd fix the Floo. Friends... Family... They could visit us. We'd have to cook a lot for all the Weasleys to show up, have to expand the guest bedroom, but... I wouldn't want it to be quiet, you know?"

She pressed her face into his chest, unable to look up at him. She managed a shaky nod.

"Yes," she rasped.

"You could play the piano, everyone would like that. You play so beautifully, Lyra, I... I always love it when you do that..."

"Y-Yes... Yes... I-I'd... I'd play... Every night..."

"And the..." He paused. "The nursery."

She shuddered against him.

He stroked her hair gently. He loved how it waved behind her as she walked. Even now, it felt so soft to touch.

"The nursery... I always wanted... Blue wallpaper... With moving white clouds. I... I think our baby would love that."

"Y-Yes... Yes... I-I think so too," she managed between choked sobs.

"James Sirius... For a boy," he murmured, "Um... Lily Rose would be nice for a girl, but... Wh-Whatever you want-"

"I... I-I always liked... Cassiopeia," she whispered. Harry nodded.

"Cassiopeia... I like it..."

Silence fell, save for her whimpers. She looked up at him.

"Harry..." She kissed him. He kissed her back.

He could see her standing on the porch of the house in Godric Hollow, smiling, happy, hair shining in the sunlight. Her belly was round in pregnancy, making her glow.

A child ran up to her, and she laughed and pulled him up into her arms. His black hair, her eyes, a joyful face. They both looked at him and smiled, as the wind blew gently, making the grass and trees wave in the warm summer sun.

He smiled against her lips.

How strange... His dream, his real dream, would never come true. Yet in this moment, it seemed close enough to touch.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

He was going to kill the Twins one of these days. Absolutely murder them both.



He didn't even know Hogwarts did culture festivals! He'd been too busy fighting basilisks and Dementors to care about that sort of thing!



But with the Triwizard in full swing, of course they would do it.



"Come on Harry," Fred said, as he sat glumly in an empty classroom in a simple booth, "As our friend, we're begging you-Please?"



"I hate you both," he muttered. George chuckled.



"Like you have to pretend to be unhappy about this! Come on, you made an oath!"



"For the sake of the Weasley family, Harry! You promised!"

"I'm doing this because I lost a bet," Harry grumbled. George nodded.



"And you should have known better than to make it with us. Come on... Stiff upper lip!"

"It'll help," Fred snickered.



They waved their wands. The very long line of witches standing nearby all cheered as a sign was revealed over Harry's despairing head:

HARRY POTTER KISSING BOOTH - 1 GALLEON EACH


"Who's up first?" Fred shouted.

"One at a time now, ladies!" George shouted, as a few seventh years kept the squealing girls in line.



"Out of my way! OUT OF MY WAY!" Screeched a familiar voice. Harry's eyes widened in terrible recognition.



Oh no...



A certain blonde girl elbowed her way through the other witches, sneering as she forced her way forward.



"Potter!" Lyra Malfoy snarled, "What in the name of Merlin's beard do you think you're doing?!"

Harry pointed at the Twins immediately.



"It was their idea! I swear!"



"It was absolutely his brilliant idea!" Fred and George pointed at Harry. Lyra's silver green eyes seemed to glow as her face turned bright red. Her hands trembled as she slid her hands into her robe. Harry's hand slid for his wand, ready to defend himself...



"Out... ALL OF YOU OUT!" She roared, drawing her wand and firing off a Concussive sound. The witches in line squealed and scattered, running out the door along with the bodyguard Fred and George had placed. The twins sighed.



"Well, they're not getting paid," Fred muttered.

"Neither are we," George added.



Malfoy glared her fury... Reached into her robes... And slammed down a small bag that clinked.



Harry's eyes bugged out. His face burned red. The twins gaped. Malfoy didn't meet their eyes.



"... Two hundred fifty Galleons," she mumbled.



"Wha-?" Harry managed, before Lyra snarled.



"TWO HUNDRED FIFTY! YOU TWO GET OUT! AND YOU SHUT THIS DOWN AND NEVER DO IT AGAIN!"

The Twins looked at eachother, nodded, and grabbed the money. They then ran, out the door.



"Cheers Harry!"



"We'll speak of you fondly after!"



They slammed the door shut behind them.



"WHAT?! YOU-!" Harry stood and tried to shout something rude about the Twins... But Malfoy pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him back into the chair. She glared at him, and licked her lips.



"Who said you could go, P-Potter?" She managed.



Harry blinked. He went bright red.



"Ah... You mean-?"



"D-Don't think this means anything, Potter!" She growled, shoving the booth aside. She planted herself in his lap, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.



"I'm... I'm just getting my money's worth!"



Harry blinked. Blinked again. Slowly, dumbly nodded.



"Ah... All right then..."



She leaned in, slowly, tentatively. Harry licked his lips. He leaned in, awkward but warm.



Their lips met.



It was hard to describe it. Wet, warm... And like... Like he felt when he was flying.



She pulled back, cheeks bright red, breathing a bit harder. His heart pounded in his chest as he panted, staring back.



"So?" Lyra prompted.



He wanted to say "Brilliant", because it was, but... The haughty look in her eyes made his eyes narrow.



"... Barely Acceptable," he managed. Lyra's eyes flashed in anger-She looked strangely pretty that way.



"That... That was just one!" She growled, "You... Owe me 249 more! You... You won't be complaining about anything after that!"

"I... Well..." He nodded. "Yes... Absolutely."



He'd have to do something nice for the Twins after this... After he murdered them, of course.