[Harry Potter] Malfoid Stories

[celsiussy]

Basically the only people who think Sirius is cool are Harry, Fred, & George, Lupin, and Pettigrew. Everybody else thinks he's a complete fucking tool behind his back.

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We don't even get a whiff of a girlfriend in Hogwarts. Maybe they tried dating him, smelled the train full of baggage and just pissed off after a night or so? There's only so much a girl can take from a boy with such raging issues against his own family/tribe/nation/whatever. At some point, you'd expect him to get over them being eeeeevil, and just wear the crown like a man, play the game, reform his kingdom if he likes.

Hell, it's telling that the only eligible woman we hear about in Sirius's life is Lily.

And that's unreliable, because Lily is Rowling's narrative god. Some kind of holy, angelic, Virgin Mary figure who she measures by instead of any broader sense of metaphysics. Though that's unfair to Rowling because at that point you're asking her to write like a man.

 

[digcat]

Spoiler: Cute

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Voldemort gives his secret mission out of a desire to ship.

Spoiler

View: https://x.com/Sachi_Hwa/status/2109947645892624516

View: https://x.com/trapzchris/status/2109684123090731414

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Spoiler

Spoiler: The Honoured Ron

C.EED

C.EED 🇵🇭 (@custardseeks) on X

Fem Draco and Potter's MVP: Ron "The Badass" Weasely Inspired by: @Camera_B0ss Art by: @custardseeks

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C.EED 🇵🇭 (@custardseeks) on X

Fem draco and Harry Potter having RomCom Plot The most tamest Ron Weasley subplot: Art by: @custardseeks

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Ylo

A good brother

A good brother by Ylo

www.pixiv.net

A good brother 2

A good brother 2 by Ylo

www.pixiv.net

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Ron being a CHAD so Harry can plow Lyra.

 

[rx915]

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https://pbs.twimg.com/media/HUlHIHKWsAAUZNi?format=jpg&name=large

Ron being a CHAD so Harry can plow Lyra.

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I'm not sure what your reply reaction to me is about with the link you put in which I see is Malfoy getting angry at Rita Skeeter slander.

Edit:
Though now that I noticed you replied to me from another thread to here it's to list that story line?

 

[Leo 123]

Ron being a CHAD so Harry can plow Lyra.

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Damn, you were not kidding about Ron being a chad. He's ready to give his life for his friend's love and isn't afraid to tell Snape that. The scenario might seem silly, but it is absolutely serious for Ron.

 

[digcat]

I'm not sure what your reply reaction to me is about with the link you put in which I see is Malfoy getting angry at Rita Skeeter slander.

Edit:
Though now that I noticed you replied to me from another thread to here it's to list that story line?

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Must have clicked the wrong button by mistake.

 

[rx915]

Must have clicked the wrong button by mistake.

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Alright all good.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Chapter 7

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Madam Puddifoot's sat at the end of the lane, its windows already fogged from within and its pink paint bright against the greys, browns and reds of the surrounding buildings. The bell over the door gave a tuneful tinkle as Harry and Lyra stepped inside. The shop was exactly as cramped and frilled as Harry had heard: bows on every available surface, lace-edged napkins, china sugar bowls shaped like hearts, and round tables pushed so close together that Madam Puddifoot herself had to turn sideways to pass between them. Most of the tables were occupied by pairs of students leaning across cups of tea or cocoa, hands joined, a few of them kissing with almost comical determination.

Harry's shoulders tightened. Lyra's loosened. Madam Puddifoot emerged from behind the counter at once, round-faced and beaming, her apron as pink as the walls.

"Why hello, Miss Malfoy! And, by Merlin—is that Harry Potter?"

Conversation across the shop dropped. Heads turned. Whispers started, quick and low, and more than one pair of eyes fixed on their joined hands. Harry felt the attention settle on him like a weight. This was the part Sirius had tried to prepare him for… But nothing ever could.

Lyra's smile was small and composed. "Yes. It's nice to see you again, Madam. Private booth, please. Quickly."

"Of course!"

Madam Puddifoot guided them along the perimeter of the tables, past several stares that did not quite manage to look away in time, and drew back a pair of heavy pink curtains. The booth beyond was no less frilled than the rest of the shop. A single candle burned at the center of the tiny table; its flame shaped itself, with every flicker, into a small and persistent heart. They sat. Madam Puddifoot set two menus between them, beamed, winked once, and let the curtains fall. The sound of the shop outside vanished as if a door had closed.

Harry exhaled, low.

"Not keen on all that attention," Lyra said. It was not quite a question.

"Just… well." He shrugged. Lyra hummed.

"You're fine at Quidditch matches."

"Well." He shifted, trying to recover the ease he had managed in the pet shop. "I don't have to keep track of as many things doing that."

"Heh. And it is more fun."

"Well, it's why we both do it, isn't it?"

She chuckled, short and genuine. "Yes. And this place is… a bit much. I came here as a child because I loved the sweets. My father would treat me every time he had spare time. He didn't like the décor. Thought it was beneath us. But…" A small, wistful smile touched her mouth. "He still took me. Every time we came here, it was nice."

Harry nodded, slowly. His feelings about Lucius Malfoy were a bit too complicated for this situation, so he settled on just saying, "I'm glad."

"Come on, Potter." She tilted her head. "Didn't your guardians take you anywhere nice growing up? When you begged for sweets?"

The question landed harder than she could have known. Harry's jaw tightened, his fists clenched a bit.

"…No."

Lyra stared at him. "Not even once?"

"It's… it doesn't matter."

"What, you don't want to talk about it?"

"No. No, I do not."

For a moment he saw it clearly: her learning about the cupboard, the hand-me-downs, the years of being told he was lucky to have anything at all. The idea of her mocking him was unpleasant. The idea of her pitying him felt even worse. He didn't know which he was more afraid of.

Lyra was quiet. The candle flame wavered between them, still stubbornly heart-shaped. Then she nodded once, small and careful, and looked down at the menu as if the conversation had simply reached its natural end.

"All right. So. What do you want to order?"

Harry felt his shoulders unclench. He shrugged.

"I don't know. You've been here before. You pick."

"Ugh," Lyra grunted, "You're supposed to take the lead."

"I did bring us here," He pointed out. Lyra snorted.

"Yes, and…?"

Harry managed to not roll his eyes, just as Sirius instructed. Focus on the essentials.

"…How's the treacle tart?"

"Excellent. So's the hot cocoa and butterbeer."

"And honey lemon cakes for you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Works for me."

Silence settled between them, broken only by the soft hiss of the heart-shaped flame. Lyra studied him over the top of her menu.

"…You don't know how to order, do you?"

Harry's smile was wry. "No."

She sighed, tapped the chosen items on both menus with the tip of her finger, and watched as the parchment folded itself—neat, precise, and entirely without her needing to touch it again—into a pair of small origami cranes. They rose from the table and fluttered through the gap in the curtains toward the counter. Lyra's gaze followed them until they were gone.

"This place how you learned how to do that?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Can… you teach me how to fold like that?"

A small smile returned to her face. "Of course. After the cakes arrive. You'll need both hands free."

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Hermione and Pansy stepped into Madam Puddifoot's a few minutes after Harry and Lyra. The bell tinkled. Hermione's nose wrinkled at once—at the bows, the heart-shaped sugar bowls, the pairs of students leaning across tables with joined hands. The air smelled of sugar and warm cocoa and something faintly floral that clung to the lace.

Madam Puddifoot appeared before they had taken three steps, beaming.

"Hello, dearies! Waiting on your boyfriends?"

"Er, no," Hermione said.

Madam Puddifoot's eyebrow rose. Hermione felt heat climb her neck.

"Oh! Um, we're not—we're not together!"

"Yes, honest, Madam," Pansy added quickly.

Madam Puddifoot chuckled. "Never crossed my mind, you two together. Ha!"

"Good," Pansy muttered.

"Wait," Hermione said, vaguely offended. "What's that supposed to mean—?"

"We're just joining our friends over…" Pansy pointed toward a table farther in, where a familiar shock of Weasley red was visible above the frills. "There."

"Of course, of course!"

Madam Puddifoot led them through the narrow gaps between tables. Hermione made a face at a floating cherub statue of pure, aggressive pink. Pansy raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have to have an issue with everything?"

"It's just so… girly."

"Ugh. What is it with you Muggle-borns and hating on girly things? Did they outlaw being feminine in the Muggle world? Well, given your appearance—"

"Watch it." Hermione's voice sharpened. "Besides, Penelope Clearwater got that modeling contract with Sleekeazy's."

Pansy hummed thoughtfully.

"Okay, she's actually quite attractive, she's Muggle-born… so what's your problem?"

Hermione's hair frizzed in her anger.

"You—!"

"Here we are, dears!" Madam Puddifoot announced.

Ron, Daphne, and Tracey had claimed a larger table near the wall. Ron and Daphne sat opposite each other, a chessboard between them, both leaning forward with the focused stillness of people who had forgotten the rest of the world existed. Tracey sat at the end, sipping something pale and nibbling a biscuit, looking profoundly bored.

Hermione and Pansy took the empty seats on either side of her.

"Ron," Hermione said. "Where did Harry and Malfoy go?"

Ron moved his knight without looking up. Hermione scowled.

"Ron!"

"Hm? Oh, sorry, Hermione. Uh…" He glanced away from the game for a moment. "Tracey?"

Tracey swallowed some pastry and sighed.

"He and Lyra went into that private booth." Tracey nodded toward a curtained alcove a few tables away. "We can't peek because of the charms, but nobody's thrown anything and the Virgin Alarm hasn't gone off yet, so they're probably fine."

Hermione blinked. "Virgin Alarm?"

"So there's nothing going past heavy petting here, obviously, Granger," Pansy sniffed.

Hermione's scowl deepened. "I know what—! Ugh, fine, whatever. We'll just order some food then." She looked at Ron again. A plate of sandwiches sat untouched beside his elbow. "Ron? Are you all right?"

"Checkmate," Ron said, "in three moves."

Daphne studied the board carefully. After a moment she nodded.

"Agreed. Another game?"
Ron grinned, bright and unguarded. "Yes, please!"

Hermione stared. "Wha… you've just been playing chess with her all this time?"

"All this time," Tracey sighed. Ron turned to grin at his best female friend.

"She's brilliant, Hermione! Toughest challenge I've had in a while. She even beat me once. It was amazing!"

"Yes," Daphne said. Her gaze on Ron was steady and, for the first time Hermione could remember, warm. "He is quite a challenge."

Alarm bells rang, loud and immediate, in Hermione's head. Daphne Greengrass did not look warm. Ever. Pansy seemed to have the same realization.

"Oh, bloody hell, Daphne," Pansy said, face scrunching up in disgust. "No."

"Hm? No to what?" Daphne asked, entirely too innocent.

Tracey sighed. "No to Weasley."

Ron looked up, puzzled. "Hm? No to me what?"

"I agree," Hermione said. "No."

Daphne's expression did not change. "I don't recall needing your permission to do anything, ladies." She turned the same steady look back on Ron. The Weasley's ears went pink.

"Do what?" He asked.

"You… never mind." Hermione waved a hand, flustered, almost desperate. "It's just normal, silly girly things—!"

"Want to snog me, Ron?" Daphne asked, as blunt as a dragon ramming through a wall.

Ron's jaw dropped as his face burned almost as red as his hair.

"Eh?!"

"Daphne!" Tracey and Pansy said together, outraged.

"Ron!" Hermione said, equally outraged. Ron winced.

"What did I do?!"

Madam Puddifoot, passing by with a tray, tutted.

"My dear lad, this is why you should only pursue one witch at a time. I know the Weasley reputation, but no one wizard can keep them all happy!"

 

[NathanHale2SB/nowQQ]

JImmney christmas Daphne is playing for keeps!

 

[digcat]

JImmney christmas Daphne is playing for keeps!

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Agreed and i love it.

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I'll have to go back and see how you invasion Daphne but for my head canon she always has a body like Lucy heartfilia.

Spoiler

 

[celsiussy]

Also can someone tell me what degrees the OWL and NEWT add up to?

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They're based on GCSEs and A-Levels. Brit education standards. GCSEs is just general education, to prove you aren't a blithering idiot, and A-Levels is what you want to study in-depth and maybe find a job in.

At least, I think that's the general gist of it.

Edit: Specifically, they're not analogous to university, but secondary education. Ages 11 to 18. It's a little alien to our shitty times, but I guess there were times when some jobs didn't require higher education.

But I'm sure something like university exists. Like, Bill and Charley Weasley were probably taught and trained in-depth and hands-on somewhere.

Otherwise, I think magic might make some educational/training logistics very simple.

What I am wondering is exactly how much featherbedding is going on.

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I mean, really depends on how reliable magic is. It tends to flipflop. Sometimes charms and transfigured stuff seems to wear off in years or last for centuries. There's probably a reason some things are done by hand or Potion'ed up. I'd also point out house elf labour, but it can be handwaved by their magic being different, like with goblins.

The best reason is the simplest, in that the road of all power systems lead to alchemy/cultivation in the end, but with Rowling being who she is, she doesn't give a shit about the bigger picture things, like magic systems or alchemy.

Which is fine. The chaotic whimsy of HP is fun, but there's no real order for that chaos to shine in front of. If there was, we'd actually know why everyone thinks Dumbledore and Voldemort are Mt Tai.

Hell, Harry destroys an actual philosopher's stone in his first year, and no one says a thing when the living, walking evidence of history over six centuries old is set to keel over and die.

But then, if Rowling did make a magic system, Harry Potter would've flopped. Say what you want about her, but she knows how to play by her feminine strengths.

Alarm bells rang, loud and immediate, in Hermione's head. Daphne Greengrass did not look warm. Ever. Pansy seemed to have the same realization.

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Ron needs to fucking run into the sunset with Daphne. Hermione has never taken well to any female competition, because she knows she can never, ever compete with them.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Gentlemen, I have been suspended from SB once again for using the term "Malfoid".

They just keep doing it to numerous users.

This is getting ridiculous.

 

[Aleh]

Gentlemen, I have been suspended from SB once again for using the term "Malfoid".

They just keep doing it to numerous users.

This is getting ridiculous.

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They have been unambiguous about their policy and the reasons for it, agree or disagree. People are continuing to use the term despite being told -- repeatedly and blatantly -- that it's considered a rule violation.

What else are they supposed to do?

 

[digcat]

Gentlemen, I have been suspended from SB once again for using the term "Malfoid".

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SB has little peepee energy.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

They have been unambiguous about their policy and the reasons for it, agree or disagree. People are continuing to use the term despite being told -- repeatedly and blatantly -- that it's considered a rule violation.

What else are they supposed to do?

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Not be idiots? I hadn't even heard the term before this trend. It's only a slur to people who insist that everything is a slur.

 

[digcat]

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View: https://x.com/immrwatcher/status/2110816891321151858

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View: https://x.com/Felipe__Weber/status/2110786461586886818

 

[Leo 123]

What else are they supposed to do?

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Personally I'd recommend they start by not pretending to be kindergarten teachers scolding their students and realise that pearl clutching at adults is really really stupid. It makes them look pathetic.

Malfoid is just the general term for the idea. That's all there is to it. Trying to force people to speak otherwise in case somebody takes offence to the latter half of the name is a stupid idea.

 

[Aleh]

Not be idiots? I hadn't even heard the term before this trend. It's only a slur to people who insist that everything is a slur.

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The history and derivation of the term is sufficient for them to have grounds to call it one. The "foid" terminology has ties to some really nasty stuff from some really nasty corners of the 'Net.

Note that I do not say that it is a slur in the usage we're talking about, but rather that they have a basis for their ruling. It's also, fundamentally, their decision.

I suspect that they're applying a version of the Nazi Bar Rule here, but that's beside the point.

More importantly, they clearly communicated their opinion and the reasons for it. You know that they consider it a slur. You know and knew that its use is considered a violation of the site's rules. You chose to use it anyway.

So did pretty much everybody else you're talking about.

Given all that, there's really not much to say about the fact that they infracted you for it.

Personally I'd recommend they start by not pretending to be kindergarten teachers scolding their students and realise that pearl clutching at adults is really really stupid. It makes them look pathetic.

Malfoid is just the general term for the idea. That's all there is to it. Trying to force people to speak otherwise in case somebody takes offence to the latter half of the name is a stupid idea.

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Except it's not. Fem!Draco existed looong before the current "Malfoid" trend, whatever you want to call it. The SB admins have rather bluntly stated that they have no problem with the character or the concept -- they just forbid the use of the term.

Again, the wisdom of their policy is one thing. What's being complained about here is enforcement... after the policy was put into place.