Draco Malfoy Headcanons - Tumblr Posts

draco falling for a hufflepuff.

requested: @megelizhufflepuff - Can you do one of those list things with headcanons for Draco x Hufflepuff!reader

 He wouldn’t fall. No, not at first.

He would convince himself he didn’t feel a single thing but pure disgust towards the poor, little Puff.

Because there’s no way, no chance he could possibly be falling for someone of such distaste.

No way, no how he could possibly take such sudden interest in the most sorry excuse of magic tainted blood and bones within the enchanted walls of the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry itself.

Until he did.

And that was the very moment he couldn’t bring himself to look the other way.

Because the only person that appeared more tasteless than Granger inside the judgment of his chilly glare, was a descendant of the house of all things sunshine and everything rainbows.

Until they weren’t.

Because there she is, hair aglow, laughter lolling lazily off her tongue like dancing snow against a winter blemished pane. Head thrown back enraptured by a contagious mirth.

And Draco cannot control the glib grin that skims over his lips.

After that, he doesn’t fall; he crashes and erupts into flames.

He’s absolutely, positively convinced it’s a form of dark magic she’s inflicted upon him.

Because this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy.

So, a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey is deemed very much, very well necessary.

The nurse, of course, easily deciphers the signs and the symptoms. Sniffs out the rampaging war raging within himself; recognizes the inner conflict tearing him apart by the seams.

For he is in love, you see. A prescription of an herbal tea would only get the poor boy so far.

So, he leaves. Defeat lagging like a weight upon his shoulders because he was sure, oh so very, very sure, his body was simply complying to the symptoms of a terribly wretched cold.

He has to be nearly knocked off his feet for him to discard his absent minded demeanor, and actually take heed as to where it is he is headed.

For when he looks down, he can see, right there on the ground lies a familiar face, struggling to return to their previous state.

All it takes for his heart to feel faint is a slip of two hands, kissing nerve endings and pulse points puncturing through perspiring flesh.

If Draco wasn’t sure before, he is undoubtedly positive now that he has been infected with a type of disease.

Because in this very moment, his heart is beating so hard and so fast against the doors of his chest. He is fairly certain he is going to choke or croak or quite possibly both.

He concludes it will be both.

And this girl - this girl - who he has grown rather fond of, smiles.

Right at him, straight through him, it seems.

When she recites her name, it sounds like a poem or a sonnet. A sweet summer singsong, and a heavenly sort of prayer.

He forgets he was given one of those as well on the day of his birth.

He fumbles through a series of muttering mumbles, attempts to find the two words he needs.

“Drac - Draco … Draco Malfoy.”

There it is, yet again: that grin.

The one that yanks his heartstrings, tugs at his lungs. Coils its fingers around the walls of his stomach, and digs, digs, digs into the flesh, threatening to rupture each and every one of his nerves.

It’s melted sugar, the way her lips curl, but there’s a sly twist at the tipping point of each end.

That sweet, subtle simper is confirmed to be yearned for later on as he watches the way she glides on thin air, slides on by, thoughtlessly close to his side.

He simply stands there, in a trance. Watches her descend down the deserted corridor in a dumbfounded awe.

He only has a name and a yellow intertwined tie to go by.

But his mind is made up, a deal having been settled and sealed.

He must know this girl he once ensured to eternally abhor.

For ambition is what courses through his veins; being told no has never really been his thing.

It is within a droning declaration of a DADA lesson, where he makes the hapless decision to glance over his left shoulder.

For there she is, once again. Breezy wisps tracing the frame of her face in a light tangle across her frangible features.

Now, he doesn’t exactly keep track of the time, doesn’t count how many seconds or minutes or hours or days it takes before -

Her gaze flicks upward - up towards him. For she had felt the heat of a gaze; a sort of blaze penetrating the side of her face.

Eyes connect and focuses deflect and minds are effected and lifelines flatline and -

And she can’t help but believe that perhaps he’s not as bad as he initially seemed.

These staring contests, one may name them, do not only occur during lulling lectures.

Oh, no, no, no.

Quite contrary to what many would suspect, these entertaining games resume where last left off each meeting that is made.

Inside the chilly passageways, within the walls of the grand Great Hall, the barren pastures of the front lawn.

He wants to talk to her. Oh my God, oh how he does.

But the trouble with that problem is, he’s never been very good with words. They’ve never seemed to come all that easily to him.

So, he does the one and only decently, rational thing that comes to mind.

He leaves behind notes for her to find.

He thinks he’s being sneaky, he believes himself discreet. But the truth of the matter is, she knows that it’s him.

And that knowing fact is growing roots within her soul.

It’s enough to make a flush arise to both sides of her face and penetrate two craters in the center of each cheek.

She doesn’t tell him that she knows at first. Rather, she painstakingly, purposefully, patiently awaits the moment of which is appropriate and which is precise.

That doesn’t happen until approximately one week later, when she decides to write him a note of her own, stating a date and a time and a place for them to meet.

It’s that Friday night at 9 o’clock sharp, tucked far away, up in the hideaway that is the Astronomy Tower.

And Draco, well, he cannot, cannot, cannot begin to digest the news he just consumed.

It’s somewhere around a minute later that the fear comes rearing up in the back of his mind, reminding him of what it is that lies ahead.

And it’s for a brief minute, it’s for a quick moment, he looses a small part of his mind.

Because this is something entirely fresh and something totally new. Something he never expected, nor ever predicted. 

He cannot go to anyone for advice or aid or assistance of any kind.

Once he gains humane control over his train of thought, he is able to console himself into rationality.

Yes, he will meet with her this Friday night, and yes, he will tell her that it is he who has seemingly fallen into a trap for her.

Or something of the sort.

It is believed by Draco that someone bewitched the clocks to tick ten times faster. For Friday is already here, and he cannot seem to garner the appropriate amount of guts or get a grip of his fidgety feelings.

He paces back and fourth, up and down and all around. Will not, will not, will not grant himself the privilege of rest. For his nerves are breaking and his hands are shaking and his mind is racing and -

There's an echoing scuff ascending up and up and up the steps.

And there's a familiar pattern, a certain singsong rhythm to the way the echos patter then shatter.

There's a halt outside the door, a halt outside his heart.

An ear splitting crack smacks through the air, determined to wake all the students in their dormitories and owls up in the Owlery.

A muffled “sorry” arises from the dulcet voice he has come to recognize.

“Why aren’t you surprised?” is the first question to slide off his mouth.

“It wasn’t too hard to figure out. You’re pretty easy to read.”

His cheeks simmer down to the potent shade of a bleeding beet.

She takes one, two, three, four, five steps closer, until their breathing is one in the same, their heartbeats pounding the others name.

“Why did you want to meet?” is the second question of the night he recites.

“Same reason as you, I ‘spouse.”

“I think...I think I may like you...I know I just might...and I don’t know if I like this-this...thing.” this is the first outspoken confession to fill the dark, dank air.

And the girl, well, she’s taken aback by this brash admission.

So much so, she has no control over what happens next.

For she’s the one to close the remaining distance, captures his feverish face and kisses him hard, harder, hardest.

With everything she is, and everything she’s got.

It is now Draco’s turn to be thrown for an unseen loop. For what he does next is simply beyond his sober conscience.

He wraps both arms around her waist, kisses her back with much urgency, as if they’re both drowning in a life or death emergency.

And it is then and there Draco concludes he doesn’t care what people say at the sight of their knotted fingers. Doesn’t give a second thought to the laws and the hatred and the venom and the acrimony speeches he was raised upon. 

This newfound love is fatal, destined for death, like Romeo and Juliet.

It’s headed for destruction, is bound to be deduced by the hands of all the people of his past, present, and future.

Draco knows all this, but doesn’t care. No, not a bit.

Because this is the most real, most raw, most relatively realistic thing he’s ever felt.

And it is here and now Draco finally decides, she is all he’ll ever want and ever need.

Draco Malfoy × Hufflepuff Relationship

❝This newfound love is fatal, destined for death, like Romeo and Juliet.❞

draco dating a hufflepuff girl in the same year as him.

*requested

Draco’s sixth year at Hogwarts comes in a succession of black and blue, the shape of a Mark, a branding, a death sentence, stitched into the capillaries of his arm.

The gossamer ribbon of his lungs slips through his rib cage and swirls around the notches of his esophagus till he’s choking on the silent screams.

Because loving her is a dangerous thing.

A tricky thing.

A deadly thing.

For she’s now a pawn in the Dark Lord’s game, all muddled blood, and impure veins.

He feels like Icarus falling for the sea, can taste the foam in his lungs, on his tongue, shards of salt lacerating the walls of his once beating heart.

And he cannot breathe, cannot swallow, cannot see, no, not as she’s standing behind him more ghost than girl, ankles buried beneath more truths than lies, tears staining the rim of her cathedral-glass eyes.

“Draco,” she whispers, and it sounds like a hymn, a chorus of angels screaming, crashing, burning, falling from heaven, falling for devils. 

He’s never heard something quite so tragic.

“I’m sorry,” he replies, almost laughs at the irony.

The Mark, the blood, the truth, the lies.

He wonders if this is what it feels like to die.

With a girl - the girl - by his side, eyes wide, lips swollen and tinged with a hint of Botticellian pink.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Please, he’ll kill you, he’ll kill us all.”

A strand of hair catches in her lashes as she shakes her head adamantly.

“Like you said, he’ll kill us all. At least I’ll be by your side when I die.”

She twines their fingers together and knots their knuckles in a manner that reminds Draco vaguely of a promise. 

He thinks he wants to hold her hand forever, wants to memorize each slope and curve and jut of her tender, porcelain bones.

Because loving her is like Russian Roulette.

A game, a chance, a dangerous thing.

She folds her arms behind his neck, brings her lips close, close, close till they’re closest.

“I’m not leaving,” she says, again.

Again, again and again.

And yellow never was so beautiful.

Draco dating a Hufflepuff in the same year as him

❝Loving her is like Russian Roulette. 

❝A game, a chance, a dangerous thing.❞

an arranged marriage to draco malfoy

draco malfoy x pureblood gryffindor!reader

The ring is heavier than he’d anticipated

A pocket full of posies searing through the threads of his trousers, biting and bruising and burning his flesh

He’s sixteen, and the world is just beginning to weigh heavy on his shoulders

But the ring

The ring

Nothing quite compares to the weight of the promise in his pocket, the premonition of a dreadfully bloody epilogue

Because once upon a time on a mid-June afternoon when the sun is high and the air is warm, he takes the ring from his pocket and slips it over her finger

He swipes a thumb across the back of her hand and kisses each delicate jut of her knuckles, watches her blush like a rose beneath the microscope of the sun

She smiles, and Draco wishes he could capture it and hold on to it forever

But even the light of a firefly soon dies out and summer comes to a close, thunder fading in the distance and colors falling from the trees

The world is spinning out of proportion, tilting on its axis, slipping from his grasp

And it all comes undone with a gasp from his lips, a sharp jab to his ribs, a faint shiver in his bones

He can feel his blood running cold, can feel the water rising past his knees, can feel the ribbon-thin curl of ink spilling into his bloodstream

It’s not long before he’s drowning in the nightmares

Because a war is brewing, is dancing along the horizon, an epic contrast against the charcoal smoke bleeding out across the sky

But there's a girl with a ring on her finger waiting on the other side, and Draco can't help but wonder how things would have turned out had he been on the winning side from the start

They’re married on a mid-June afternoon when the sun is high and the air is warm

He takes her hands in his, slips a ring over her finger, watches the sunlight catch and shatter and fade away

Thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay

He's sitting on the edge of the Astronomy Tower balcony and all he can think about is falling. 

Falling for a girl. 

A girl in a pleated plaid skirt with pristine blood and a family name to uphold. A girl standing in the library of his family's estate, a waterfall of curls cascading down her back and a plethora of pearls draped across her neck. 

It was the middle of June. It was hot. He was cold.

It's October now, and there’s a serpentine grin eating away at his skin. It's a branding, a message, a sentence to death. 

He can still feel the burn in his bloodstream, can still see the electric green reverberating off the walls. He traces the blue river of his veins.

"I looked everywhere for you, but then I realized where I'd find you." she says behind him.

He always did love the stars. 

She sits down beside him. She's close enough that he can smell her perfume.

She twists the button on the cuff of her sleeve. Draco catches a glimpse of a familiar black curl on her forearm.

He didn't -

He had no idea.

"Does the pain get better?" She says.

He wants to lie.

"It becomes numb, eventually."

Her skin is red, rubbed raw.

"Just," she begins, pauses. "Hold me. Please."

He nods and slips his arm around her shoulders. He waits for her to lay her head in his lap.

All he can think about is falling. 

It's a long way down.

She wears a dress for him. And lipstick. A bit of gloss too. And he doesn't even show.

The dress is pink, covered in lace. It's kinda pretty, and it's kinda short, and not the sort of thing she'd usually wear because of how fancy it is, but she wears it just for him. She'd wear anything for him.

She's standing in the middle of the room, pulling at a loose thread on her dress. She's looking for him. She spots Cormac and Hermione, Dean and Ginny, even Luna and her Jupiter-sized earrings, but no Draco.

Slughorn tells her not to look so glum, and she kinda wants to tell him to shove it because she doesn't even want to be here in the first place. She bites her lip and instantly regrets it. There's probably a pink blot on her teeth and there's no mirror around to check her reflection.

Fuck.

"Dragon ball?" Harry says.

Her heart jumps to her throat, and her stomach drops to her knees, and her hands begin to shake. She feels a bit sick.

"Oh. No, thanks."

"No bother. Gives your breath a horrid taste, anyhow." He says, shoving another dragon ball into his mouth.

She adjusts the strap of her dress even though it's perfectly fine. It gives her something to do. She shifts her weight from her toes to her heels and checks the time. Eight fifteen. He should've been here by now.

"You okay?" 

"Yes." 

He nods, not believing her.

"You haven't happened to have seen Draco anywhere, have you?"

He swallows and shakes his head.

"Oh, Malfoy? No. Not tonight."

"Right. Of course."

Harry sucks on his lower lip. He doesn't know what to say. He's always been kinda shit with words.

"I'm sure he'll show. It's still early."

"Yeah, no. Totally."

He looks over at her and notices the wetness on her cheeks. No guy should make a pretty girl in a pretty dress cry. 

"Hey. He's just a bloke, all right? You're really great. He's missing out."

He doesn't know if he should grab her hand, or put his arm around her shoulder, or offer her his hankie, or try and make her laugh, or none of the above. Probably the latter. He grabs her hand because he's an idiot.

"Thanks." She says.

He kisses her. Chaste. A little off. Not perfect, but sweet. He pulls back, eyes closed. There's a bit of gloss smudged across the bow of his lip. It's sticky and it kinda tastes like cotton candy.

"Oh, God. I'm. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't've. I just..."

She grabs hold of his lapels and brings his lips to hers.

They don't see Draco standing in the doorway.

dating draco headcannons pleasee

𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- draco malfoy

a/n: favourite blondie and tysm for requesting, p.s requests are open luv you, teddy

currently playing- forever favourite by t i y a

warnings- none i think-, suggestive thoughts at mos, i believe its gender neutral but there are mentions of the hips and waist? do what you will with that information

he's such a dashing boy i swear to merlin-

okay so starting of i know how he comes of as a idgaf and i don't show love to anyone but my mummy when i get tucked into bed

BUT if you tell me that he is not an absolute simp for you then i will come and find you cause baby you deserve the simp, even if it slightly resembles a ferret

but everyone knew before u oml. Blaze be tellin everyone but you. its giving "i know something you don't knoww"

bestie is smitten with you but he's so confident about it, like he knows you're into assholes who are simps for u

you get lots of advances, don't lie. Draco is usually very confident about you cause he knows he is the one. he is it

but obviously Malfoy has a jealous streak and i am here for it.

i think of him as to be morally gray, you always had a thing for those (remember kids this is only for fictional characters)

he loves you and he's gonna make it everyone's problem

attention whore Draco Malfoy all the way mfs. he just has to bask in your attention, its a need not a want

HIS WINKS. they are so adorable and it just opens up a zoo

his hands everywhere. thighs, waist, hips. everywhere.

just very touchy

okaokau his way of flirting will be so top notch, he'll will be the most massive flirt but i can see him also flirting w insults in the initial phase.

like a third year malfoy trying so hard to get you attention but not confident enough to fully just flirt

but most of the time people cant tell if you're flirting or arguing

yk he's always looking at you (when will it be my turn)

his go to would be the origamis and you would keep them cause they smell like his cologne

next comes the vibe, this man has the big dick energy oh my god. he gives the old rich boy vibes and you live to see him suits heheh

he literally could get you anything u want so miss you're pampered

fussy blond who needs you to keep him in check is the only way to describe it

quidditch matches. he looks so fine in them god help me

he may be a seeker but he's your golden snitch (get it, cause he's blonde, I'm funny okay)

steel those jerseys, its gonna be your last name anyway

he's so good u wish u could ride him like dat

would do you to your favourite song

*added to the friend group*

forget boyfriend material, he's husband material

falling asleeep om malfoy

𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- draco malfoy

a/n: this isn't the best but it's something i wrote to one of my favourite bois, the gif sounds like he's saying my favourite- requests are forever open luv, tiya

requested- yes

currently playing- forever favourite

warnings- none i think-

"don't fall asleep on me, darlin" Draco cooed

his voice oh damn the lord, it sounded so pretty calling you darling. you'd want to hear it roll of his tongue over and over again. just wanna play it on a loop.

even against his misguided words, he had his hand around you waist, letting you lean on him with your head on his chest. you could hear his pretty heart beating so quickly.

why was he so nervous talking to his friends huh?

he had gone back discussing something about Potter again. maybe that's why his heart was beating so fast. Him and his bloody Potter for Merlin's sake. it was as if he was in love with him.

pottah this, pottah that, potta breathes, potta looked.

Malfoy on the other hand was having a whole panic attack inside his head.

is she comfortable? where do i keep my hand?

am i comfortable for her?

their droopy eyes slowly closed and they'd gone to sleep.

draco malfoy couldn't even pay attention to whatever they were talking about, his favourite subject in the world was in his arms.

his world was in his arms.

pansy is bringing u back hw and she says smthn and draco's like how can i be homophobic my bitch is gay

f a v o u r i t e

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- draco malfoy

a/n: I believe this is a prompt from that tiktok, so what i've done is add a few of my favourite lyrics into it too, i hope this is what you were looking forward to, requests are always open, with utmost love, tiya

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

Draco and you were sprawled on the couch just after dinner. neither of you wanted to move and were content with the positions. Draco was making conversation with Theodore Nott while you slowly found yourself giving up to sleep.

"here's that astronomy book you wanted my love" said Pansy walking in it with a book she'd promised to get you, pushing you out of toppling the brink of slumber.

"thank you baby" you cooed back getting an annoyed reaction you absolutley adored from draco

"anything for my favourite lady"

"how can i be homophobic? my bitch is gay for parkinson"

jealous malfoy please

j e a l o u s y

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- draco malfoy

a/n: okay so i'm kinda exited for this one. i took this out of something that happened when i liked this guy, though the last part is pure imagination because he's an arse and wont admit shit ,3. with love, tiya

requested- yes

warnings- unexperienced writer, suggestive lines in the end, not thoroughly edited

how could she sit there laughing and smiling so beautifully with him?

Draco Malfoy had no so gracefully hurt himself in quidditch, well atleast pretended very well to. As soon as he heard that you were in the great hall, he made up some ache so he he could find a peaceful place to rest with his teammates with absolutely no other intention in mind. ofcourse.

It was a lovley saturday and everyone was winding down from the extra classes to complete portions.

You were happy since a bit, a group of you were sitting in the great hall whiling away some time. You were sitting on a table with Fred on your right and Cho on your left. they were sharing food that they had stolen from the kitchen and having so much laughter and jokes shared between them, it killed Draco a little in the inside.

Draco was there, in the very same room as you.

don't look, don't look.

fuckin Weaselbee, she always talked about him, sat with him and everything, it drove him nuts. you were his, why didn't he understand that?

everyday we talked and it was us, no weasley or his gignatic forehead.

where did he pop up from?

everyone was dispersing, you were walking out the door when someone pulled you by your wrist. A hand pinned you to the wall while an other was on your waist.

oh fuck, you were done for

"could'nt even look at me love? did i fuck you that hard baby?"

s w e a t e r w e a t h e r

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- Draco Malfoy

a/n: so this one is based on a situation I've been in which had me bawling, crying and literally dying. I also saw something similar on Pinterest and I thought why not? requests are always open, love, teddy

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

You found yourself in the edge of the black lake sprawled on a fuzzy blanket with all sorts of delights, giggling and laughing with a blonde Slytherin over something absolutley preposterous, the idea or to be more specific, the rumors between you and a Malfoy.

The evening was crisp already, the last of sunset just a fading pale stripe in the sky. Evening shadows deepened into blue and purple. the wind was icy and withering, it sent chills down your back.

"c'mon, its almost time for bed luv"

love. love? did he just call me love? am I okay?

"yeah, let's head back" you assented.

a cold wind swept past the both of you, Draco's eyes bumped together in a scowl and his nystagmic eyes hadn't missed anything. All he was waiting for was an ask and maybe a pretty please too.

"would it be alright if i borrow your sweater?"

their eyes my god, as if I'd say no, fuckin damn

"it would be more than alright sweetheart"

fuck. sweetheart? is he tryna kill me? what does he want? oh god

His fingers gripped the ends of the sweater covering his abdomen and quickly pulled his sweater of green and silver and handed it to her.

it was loose to say the least, but you loved it almost as much as he loved seeing you in it. it smelt of mahogany apples which he loved so much.

Draco towered over, trying to roll the sleeves for you, and grabbed your palm and began to walk as if he wasn't absolutley panicking inside.

"it smells like you"