ohsodraco:

Hi anon, I’m afraid I don’t know what appleling is 😊 but I’d definitely recommend ao3 for Drarry fics. I pretty much only read fics on there. You can filter Drarry fics by kudos or hits and you can be very specific about what things you do and don’t want included.

As far as Drarry recs, I’d recommend @dictacontrion’s master rec-list and daily Drarry recs and also @capiturecs, @themalfoymanner and @o0o-chibaken-o0o all have amazing recs and rec lists. There’s also @drarryspecificrecs and lots of others I can’t think of right now😅. Just be aware that some of the bloggers I mentioned don’t take rec requests anymore so pls check their FAQ or info before sending any requests. Even if they aren’t all actively reccing, their old rec lists are still well worth checking out!😎

dictacontrion:

“The second time Draco awoke, about a week later, the first thing he said was, “you, again,” and once more, Harry had to turn away and compose himself.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s right.”
Draco was silent, and Harry started ironing the hospital robes the girl from the laundry room had delivered earlier that morning. “What’s your name?” he asked after several minutes.
Harry took a deep breath. “Ned,” he said. “Ned Noodginton.”
Draco made a sound that could almost have been a snort of laughter if it hadn’t sounded so exhausted. So defeated. “My condolences,” he murmured and fell back asleep.”

— The Logic of Dreams by Frayach 

dictacontrion:

““What’re you doing, Malfoy?” There’s nothing professional about Draco’s smile. “What do you think, Potter?” Potter opens his mouth and closes it again. He’s searching for words. Draco knows how hard that must be for him. “Looking to run again, are you? Where’s that famous Gryffindor courage now?” “I’m not scared.” “No?” Draco leans back and cocks his head, making absolutely certain that Potter feels the promise in his gaze. “Prove it.” “You’re mad,” Potter exhales. Draco shrugs. “Perhaps, but I’m not afraid.” “So you keep saying, yet you keep your distance.” Potter takes exactly one step forward. “Fine.” “Very brave. Bravo. Only a relatively slender centaur could fit between us.” Potter huffs and takes one more step forward. “Satisfied?” “Satisfied?” Draco laughs and takes his own step forward. “Are you trying to satisfy me, Potter?” He reaches out to brush his thumb along Potter’s jaw and doesn’t miss the hitch in his breath. “I’d say you have a way to go.””

— The Vanishing Department by dicta_contrion

dictacontrion:

“A scar snaked across Malfoy’s belly, and the first time he had seen it, Harry had suddenly remembered Sectumsempra. That time Harry had given Malfoy the field dressing with his shirt, they had been waiting for the Healers to arrive. Harry just kept looking at Malfoy’s shoulder, where the ragged shirt was not stemming the flow of blood. Then his eyes had dropped down to the scar, and he had felt even more guilty. “It wasn’t you,” Malfoy had said, cracking an eye open. Harry had jerked his head up. “What?” He had thought Malfoy had already lost consciousness. “The scar.” Malfoy’s breath was coming shallow. “It wasn’t you. Snape got there in time.” “Then what—”
Malfoy wheezed in laughter. “You’re not the only one with scars, Harry,” he’d said, and slid into the black.”

— No Other Superstar by @letteredlettered​

parkkate:

Inspired by this amazing piece of art by the fabulous @nedjemmm (Thank you for letting me write this kjbfkgbdgkbfdkgjbdg 💙💙)

@call-me-hopelesss Turns out, hate snogging is not my forte 😂 But I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I read your comment 😂

---

“What did you just say to me?”

Harry just grins at him.

“What did you just say to me? I dare you to repeat it.” He shivers, either from the cold or from hardly being able to contain his anger. Harry isn’t sure.

“I said maybe you should exchange that green and silver scarf for a Hufflepuff one.”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

Harry’s grin widens. “I saw you earlier, with that little girl.”

Something flickers across Malfoy’s face. Harry’s caught him, but he’s trying to act nonchalant.

“What girl?”

“The girl you were comforting. I heard what you said to her. I thought that was…nice.”

“And what makes you think I give a damn about what you think?” Malfoy spits.

“Oh, so this is what you not caring looks like?” Harry sniggers.

Malfoy narrows his eyes and steps closer. If he thinks Harry is intimidated by the two inches he’s taller than him, he thought wrong.

“What are you trying to imply here?” Malfoy sneers. “Are you calling me a wimp?”

“Your words, not mine,” Harry laughs. “I just had no idea you were so in touch with your emotional side.”

Malfoy’s rosy cheeks turn crimson. But he doesn’t seem embarrassed or flustered, he seems livid. He grabs Harry by his scarf and pulls him forward until he’s inches away from his face.

“I’ll show you just how much I’m in touch with my emotional side,” he growls.

“Oh yeah?” Harry says challengingly. He raises his chin. “I bet you’re too much of a coward.”

“Who are you calling a coward?” Malfoy barks.

“I bet you don’t have the balls to—to—”

“To what?”

Harry swallows, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. And vulnerable. It’s a challenge. Malfoy won’t know about his feelings. Right? Right. He’ll be too angry anway.

Harry raises his chin even higher and squares his shoulders. “I bet you’re too much of a coward to kiss me.”

For a tiny fraction of a second, Malfoy looks shocked. But then he snorts, tightening his grip on Harry’s scarf.

“You’re out of your mind, Potter.”

“So you are a coward.”

“Shut up.” Malfoy’s eyes bore into his as though he’s searching for something. “You’re the bloody Gryffindor here. You do it if you want to so badly.”

“What? I didn’t say—Fuck you!”

“Who’s the coward now?”

Before Malfoy can say anything else, Harry mimics him, grabs the bloody prat by his scarf and yanks him forward. He can’t help but let out a little gasp when he feels Malfoy’s lips pressed against his own. For a moment, they’re both completely motionless. Until Harry feels Malfoy’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Is that all you can do?” he mumbles against Harry’s mouth.

Harry scowls at him and immediately lets go of his scarf; instead, he buries his hands and Malfoy’s hair and pulls him closer. His heart jumps when Malfoy wraps his arms around him and presses his hands against the small of Harry’s back. Oh, that pompous git! He won’t outdo Harry. Not a chance.

Harry opens his mouth and Malfoy loses no time in slipping his tongue inside. Harry pushes back with his own, releasing an enormous swarm of butterflies inside his stomach. More than once, their teeth clash against each other; it only encourages Harry to yank harder at Malfoy’s hair, to brush his tongue more firmly against Malfoy’s, to step closer so there’s absolutely no room left between them.

Malfoy grunts when Harry softly bites his bottom lip and smiles. He returns the favour, leaving Harry breathless and shivering.

He has no idea how long they’re standing there, practically attacking each other’s face, but he knows he could go for hours. Much too soon, Malfoy steps back; his cheeks are flushed and his lips swollen. He gives Harry a strange look, one he can’t place, before his brows are furrowed in a nasty scowl.

“I hate you,” he sneers.

“I hate you more,” Harry shoots back. He hesitates for a moment and searches Malfoy’s face for anything other than repugnance. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he thinks he sees it in his eyes, in the twitch of his mouth.

Malfoy ruins the moment with a rude hand gesture before he stomps off towards the castle.

Harry looks after him, his lips still tingling, and wonders how soon would be too soon to pick another fight with Malfoy.