Marlene: NO

marlene: NO

sirius: marls, just admit it, you are broke

marlene: I AM NOT

dorcas: marls darling

marlene: I STILL HAVE A RAILROAD

remus: no you don't, that card is mine

regulus: *who has been trying to sleep harry for 25 min now* will you please keep it down?

marlene: BLACK THEY ARE TRYING TO RUIN ME

harry: *starts crying*

regulus: I don't care, this is the last time we are hosting game night

james: but-

regulus: *carrying his baby to the room* L A S T T I M E

JOIN THE MARY MORSTAN HATE CLUB! :D

to get in, all you have to do is to hate mary! no matter the reason! please reblog to confirm your membership!

@peanitbear said i can be the president, let's see how long i can keep this title! ;)

[based on this post by @lestrolly]

More Signs of Love

Draco’s hands hurt, too much to move them, too much to sign his words. He looked at Harry with an expression of pure misery, and resigned himself to having to use actual words to express his emotions. His throat ached at the mere thought.

He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to speak. What was the point of using words he couldn’t hear? Saying things that had no meaning? But there is was no other way for him to communicate his wants and needs to Harry. At least not at this moment in time.

Except there was. And Harry being Harry showed him. So, before Draco could use his words, or push past the pain of regrowing bones to force his hands to sign words, Harry did something that turned Draco’s world upside down and inside out.

Harry lowered the wards around his mind, dropped them all of them all at once, every single layer of protection. He silently and without so much as a warning bared his mind and soul to Draco, giving it to him for the taking, presenting it on a silver platter.

And because Draco was an extremely skilled Legilimens, he felt it, felt the protective walls crumble. Draco felt the tug, felt the almost irresistible desire to explore but he resolutely held back, refused to enter Harry’s mind, even though it was right there, open and vulnerable.

He shook his head, closed his eyes.

But Harry’s hands cupped his cheeks, caressed him with such love. Harry simply held his face in a tender embrace. Draco’s eyes opened of their own accord but he couldn’t stop blinking furiously to try and combat the urge to cry. It was all too much, too overwhelming.

He drew in a shaky breath and when Harry smiled encouragingly, Draco’s heart stuttered to a halt.

“It’s okay, my love, I want you to.”

Draco couldn’t tell whether Harry was only moving his lips, mouthing the words or whether there was sound involved, but he didn’t care, couldn’t focus.

Harry opened his mind a little further and when he leant in to press a soft and lingering kiss to Draco’s forehead, Draco felt himself slip. He entered Harry’s mind, drawn inside by the gentle invitation and the sweetness of Harry’s kiss, and closing his eyes, he focused.

Hello my love, there you are.

Harry’s voice rang in Draco’s head and a wretched sob tore itself from the very centre of Draco’s core. He could hear Harry, could hear the sound of his voice, the tenderness with which he spoke, the deep warmth and care he infused his words with, the love and kindness, the goodness of it all.

Draco cried and his body shook with it, the sensations, the experience of sharing a mental link with Harry, of actually hearing his voice for the first time ever, it was too much. Half of Draco wanted to pull away, to cut the connection and reinforce his own walls, but he couldn’t, didn’t have the strength to leave this newly-found haven.

Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me, he thought, knowing that he sounded desperate. I beg you talk to me. Never stop. Talk to me. Draco wept as he spoke.

Harry’s warm and amused laughter thrummed through Draco’s veins, set him alive.

Let me tell you a story, my love.

Draco prayed to every deity in existence that Harry would tell him a never-ending story because there was no hope in hell he’d ever be able to get enough of hearing Harry’s voice, even if it wasn’t actually real.

Please reblog if you think that “they/them/theirs” is a valid set of pronouns.

this post must be reblogged by everyone

Day 175: Band

For a prompt specifically about a music band.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Draco said as he stared at the man who’d just walked through the door. Ralph had promised that he knew a solid guitar player who could sub in for a couple performances. And Draco had trusted him.

Well, lesson learned. He’d never trust Ralph again because there in the doorway stood Harry fucking Potter. Stupid, messy hair pulled back into a bun; tidy beard framing what appeared to be a strong jaw; tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt and along his arms; eyebrow piercing; and six feet of gorgeous muscle. In short, something straight out of one of Draco’s wet dreams.

“Well, well,” Potter murmured, voice low and smooth like molasses. “Who’d have imagined this?”

“You two know each other?” Pete asked from where he was perched behind his drum set.

Draco blew out a breath, “We went to school together.”

Potter chuckled softly, eyes glinting at him.

“Conservatory?” Ralph asked as he picked up his electric bass and slung the strap over his neck.

The other man raised an eyebrow and the ring glinted in the stage lights, “Conservatory, huh? Always imagined you going into something…” he trailed off, “pharmaceutical.”

He rolled his eyes, “My godfather certainly wanted that. Too bad he died.” Potter’s eyebrow ticked up but Draco continued, “I always expected you’d go into law enforcement.” Draco hadn’t ever really considered a world where Harry Potter hasn’t become an auror.

Potter huffed and rolled his eyes, “I got sick of peoples’ expectations.”

“Right,” Ralph interrupted. “This is all well and good but maybe you two could save the reunion chat for after rehearsal. We're not all independently wealthy wankers, some of us actually have day jobs to get to.”

“You’re staying?” Draco asked him incredulously.

Potter shrugged, “I’m in between gigs, it’s your call.”

He narrowed his eyes at the other man, "fine. But if you can't keep up you're out of here."

Those green eyes brightened with the thrill of challenge and pleasure zipped up Draco's spine. It had been a long time since he'd experienced this particular thrill and it went straight to his head.

"You're on," Potter said, opening his guitar case as Draco sat down at the keyboard.

Pete counted them off and Draco gave himself over to the joy of making music.

-----------

Potter was surprisingly good.

He played well, had a good ear, and his voice was surprisingly pleasant. Draco was grudgingly impressed.

"Want to get some lunch?" Potter asked him at the end of rehearsal as Draco was guzzling half a bottle of water to sooth his parched throat.

He promptly choked on his drink, "Excuse me?" he managed when he finally had his coughing under control.

Potter quirked an irritatingly attractive crooked grin at him, "You heard me perfectly."

"Why would you want to have lunch with me?"

The other man shrugged, "That's much easier to answer than if you'd asked why you'd want to have lunch with me," he replied. "I would like to have dinner with you," he continued before Draco had had proper time to process that statement, "because I want to get to know you better. I like the way you interact with the people around you, Ralph had nothing but good things to say about you and he's a pretty good judge of character. And," he said, leaning forward conspiratorially and lowering his voice, "I think you're attractive."

He stared at him, feeling like he must have fallen through some sort of temporal shift. There was no way that Harry Potter had just said that to him. Maybe he was dreaming.

"I'm not the boy you knew at school," he added.

He clicked his jaw shut and he straightened up, "Alright fine."

Potter grinned at him again and it was sharp, and bright, and just a little dangerous and Draco couldn't help but think that maybe he was getting in a little over his head.

--------------

Lunch had been surprisingly pleasant.

Potter had taken him to a fish and chip place, a little hole in the wall, and Draco wanted to die with how perfect the greasy, hot, salty chips tasted in the malt vinegar. And then Potter had proceeded to ask him questions and let Draco talk about himself for nearly two hours.

"Circe," he said eventually, leaning back in his chair, "You need to tell me to stop talking."

Potter's eyes crinkled in the corners with his smile, "Why would I ever want to do that?"

"Because I've been rambling for the better part of two hours, surely you don't care about the piano teacher that I had when I was a child."

"I want to listen to whatever you want to say," he said and he said it so genuinely that Draco couldn't help but wonder if he actually meant it.

---------------

Three weeks in and Draco had to pretty much constantly resist the urge to slam Harry into walls and make out with him. And sometimes the other man would look at him with the same desire reflected in his eyes, but just as soon as Draco would spot it, the other man would blink and it would be gone.

It was safe to say that he found Harry very attractive and he enjoyed his personality but it wasn't until he heard him play acoustic and sing that Draco really fell completely.

Ralph had invited him to come to the bar where he'd first heard Harry sing, apparently Harry had a standing Thursday night gig there, and Draco had said yes. They sat toward the back and Draco had expected to enjoy the performance, but he hadn't expected the other man to completely steal his heart from within his chest.

When Harry sang, it was like his entire heart and soul were bared before you. And the way he played his guitar, like it was an extension of himself, strumming and plucking the strings as though it came easier to him than breathing.

He was enraptured.

Draco wasn't ready for it to be over, wasn't ready to face Harry, to come to terms with all that he was feeling. But Ralph stood up at the end of Harry's set as he was making his way off the stage and waved him over and it was too late to run and hide.

"Hey!" Harry said, collapsing into one of the chairs at the table. "I didn't know you were going to be here," he said, nudging Draco's shin with his toes.

I think I'm in love with you. He cleared his throat and carefully organized his thoughts before opening his mouth, "Ralph invited me," he said.

"It's always nice to hear you on acoustic," Ralph added.

"Thanks," Harry replied with an easy grin, "It's a nice change, you know?"

Ralph talked a little bit, yammered about who knows what, that Draco was thinking to loudly to hear.

When Ralph got up (to use the loo? get a drink? move to Hong Kong? Draco didn't know) he turned to Harry and stared at him.

"You're quiet," Harry commented as he drank the remaining water in his bottle.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Harry blinked, head tilting uncertainly, "Err-"

"I mean, honestly. Who gave you the right to be this fucking talented? On top of everything else you have going for you? What the fuck?"

The other man huffed a laugh, "Thanks," he said, obviously preparing to downplay it.

"It's fucking annoying."

He blinked, "Okaay."

Draco threw a hand up in the air, "I mean, how are you still single? You are everything tha-"

"Date me," he said, grinning brightly and perking up.

"How can I?!" he exclaimed. "Knowing that I could literally never measure up? Knowing that you deserve some much better-"

"Draco," he said, covering Draco's hand with his. "You are so far out of my league."

"Pfft. You're not fool-"

Harry leaned over the corner of the table and kissed him. "I like you," he said when he pulled back. "A lot. I like so many things about you. And I think that my opinion of you and your opinion of me matter more than our opinions of ourselves. Don't you think?"

"Kiss me again."

He grinned and leaned over the corner of the table, kissing Draco softly, fingers threading through his hair. "Is that a yes?" he asked when he pulled back.

"That's a keep bloody kissing me," he said, grabbing Harry by the front of the tshirt and dragging him in once more.

Harry kissed him back, lips and tongue moving sensuously against Draco's until Draco lost track of everything except Harry's body and mouth.

"About time," Ralph grunted and they broke apart. "Oh, please," he said as he grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, "Don't stop on my account. Save everyone the agony of watching you two staring at the other when you think no one is looking. We all see it-"

"Yes, thank you," Draco interrupted, rolling his eyes, "Such dramatics, as though I didn't literally walk in on you and your girlfriend having sex on my piano bench."

Harry let out a surprised laugh and he couldn't help the smile that bloomed in response.

"Don't laugh," he said, shoving him, "It was traumatic. I had to see," he shuddered dramatically, "lady bits."

"Do you want to get out of here?" Harry asked.

He nodded, "I'd like nothing better."

"Well, since the two of you have already forgotten that I exist, I'll just be off, too," Ralph teased.

He rolled his eyes, "Good night, Ralph."

Harry waved at him before turning his gaze back on Draco. "Want to come over to mine and watch a movie?"

"Is that code for snog like teenagers on the sofa?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow and running his finger up Harry's forearm.

"It's code for whatever you want it to be," Harry said, "As long as it's with me."

"There's no one else I'd rather it be."

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Day 174: Star-Crossed Lovers | Day 176: Doppleganger