After Stumbling Upon The 4th Hpdm Fic Where Pansy And Ginny Hooked Up In The Background I Knew God Was

after stumbling upon the 4th hpdm fic where pansy and ginny hooked up in the background i knew god was sending me a sign

i wondered if our stars were the same…

(redraw of this post by @qannibalism​ for their dtiys on instagram!)

a quiet birthday day for Lily 

Some domestic Drarry I drew for 2020 @hd-erised <3

I will also post the 3 drawings I did for @hdowlpost soon that I had a lot of fun on!

some drarry based on a text post

support my art on patreon

Draco’s coming out story

Draco began to suspect that something was wrong with him in his fourth year. The talks about girls suddenly became more and more frequent in the Slytherin common room. Draco didn’t see the point of them. Of course, it was their duty to marry and produce an heir. But no one was obliged to perform any feelings. This was a marriage of convenience, everyone understood that.

In the fifth year, things got even more confusing. Pansy suddenly joined in the gossips about girls. Draco decided to stick to the opinion that his classmates simply exaggerated everything to appear more mature. He didn’t need it, he knew other, more effective ways to do so. Pansy once hinted that with the amount of time and attention Draco was giving Potter, it looked more like falling in love. Draco certainly didn’t blush at that. Malfoys don’t blush! Pansy just didn’t understand that he and Potter were sworn enemies. It was only natural that Draco paid so much attention to him. One always need to keep an eye on one’s rival.

Neither during the sixth nor the seventh year Draco had enough time or energy to think about his proclivities. Occasionally, though, he found himself hoping. But for what? That Saint Potter would once again save everyone, and perhaps even Draco? That if he did make some mistakes, then Potter would fix them? It was stupid. But sometimes you were allowed dream.

As Draco felt callused hands pluck the wands from his clenched fist, he realized that his foolish dreams had taken root. He wanted Potter to get it over with. He believed he could. And he continued to, clinging to Potter with all his might as the Fiendfyre raged behind them. They kept saving each other. That’s probably not what sworn enemies did. But that’s what they did.

When the war ended, and the court finally acquitted him and his mother, Draco realized that he didn’t want to marry. He didn’t want to follow his father’s example, he didn’t want to be a model pureblood son who would produce an equally model child. And it wasn’t just about abandoning tradition, no. Draco finally accepted that he had never liked girls. But he liked guys. Especially in the Quidditch uniform. Especially in the Gryffindor colors and absolutely awful glasses. It was… A relief. To finally admit that to himself.

What wasn’t a relief, though, was having to confess to Narcissa. Draco had no idea how to tell her about it. Of course, he could simply call off the engagement. But at the same time, he wanted to be honest. He went to the weekly Sunday tea at the manor as if it were an execution. His legs wouldn’t obey him at all, his mouth was dry. The closer he got to the door, the more his hands shook. He had never felt such terror, not even when Voldemort lived under the same roof as him.

Narcissa realized the gravity of the moment as soon as she looked at Draco. She gently suggested that they sit down and wait for the tea to brew. But Draco hardly heard her. Blood was pounding in his ears so loudly that his eardrums seemed ready to burst at any second. He was helplessly opening and closing his mouth, trying in vain to start a dialogue. Narcissa smiled reassuringly, and Draco couldn’t bear it anymore. He dropped to his knees in front of her, burying his face in her skirt as he used to do as a child when he was upset or scared.

He mumbled barely coherent sentences, constantly breaking into sobs, and begged for forgiveness for not being the son his mother had dreamed of. Narcissa didn’t say anything, just tenderly stroked his hair. When Draco had recovered a little, she gently lifted his tear-red face and looked him straight in the eye, telling Draco that his happiness was the only thing she had ever dreamed of. And if Draco was happier with a man, she didn’t mind at all. 

Outside the manor, the sun came out from behind the clouds and lit up the garden. Draco’s head was still resting on his mother’s lap, but they were both smiling now. It’s the first part of a series. I think I’ll draw a new comic episode and then come back to this story. I made you wait for way too long. 

I hope that if you ever feel the need to come out, it will go smoothly and you will be immediately accepted. However, you’re not obligated to tell anyone anything. It’s your life! Draco just wanted to be open about his queerness with his mother because he kept it to himself for a long time.