muggles   102

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Shibboleths - by zeitgeistic (faire_weather)
His ear was still ringing; otherwise he might’ve wondered if he was hallucinating the whole thing, because surely something this mad could not be real. Was his heart pounding faster? Was he having a panic attack? Merlin, he would be the type to have panic attacks at this stage in his life, wouldn’t he?

If surviving two Killing Curses, weathering a stillbirth, getting divorced, accidentally getting his ex-wife pregnant, and raising the subsequent child to seven hadn’t done it, then a continent would.

“If I may,” Malfoy said in his crisp tones, and they all looked to him for whatever great insight he had—he was the fucking Cultures and Casting or some other posh shit teacher after all—but what he said was, “What the actual fuck is this? It can’t be real.”

“Looks like Atlantis, nitwit,” said Millicent, without raising her eyes. “Land of our forebears and whatnot, all risen from the sea like the Neptune of bad timing.”

“When would you say is good timing for a continent to reappear, Mill?” Malfoy asked, with a minuscule degree of sincerity.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  hogwarts  professors  progeny  dursleys  snape  firstcontact  media  on-the-lam  muggles  declassification  squibs 
may 2018 by runpunkrun
If the Fates Allow - by Saras_Girl
Draco snorts. “You’re so polite with your hatred. Yesterday I heard Maloney saying he’d like to steal her eyeballs.”

Harry shakes his head. “Yeah, but Maloney is… well, he’s very odd.”

“And you’re—” Draco starts, trailing off at Harry’s look and smiling to himself as he continues to write.

Harry pretends to read the first in a pile of memos on his desk and tries to pull his feelings under control. It’s been a long time now, far too long, and he is wrecked. It hadn’t happened straight away—that he could have dealt with—but slowly, pulling him tighter with every day he sits in this office at his desk six feet away from Draco’s, listening to his discontented muttering over requests that make no sense, catching his rare smiles and even rarer compliments and growing, hour by hour, completely insane with need for a man he once thought he would hate forever.

He should have known that Draco the man was nothing like Draco the child, but still the contrast has taken him so violently by surprise that even after sharing an office for five years, Harry has no idea how to deal with the way it makes him feel. The way he kicks off his expensive Italian shoes and pulls his socked feet up onto his chair, sitting cross-legged and bending over his work like some kind of oversized insect. The way he worries his long fingers into his hair, wrapping strands tightly until his knuckles go white, and the way that by the end of the day his neat hair is waving across his forehead and starting to curl around his ears.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Draco asks, and something about the tone of his voice tells Harry he has had to repeat himself.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  aurors  dogs  muggles  food  xmas 
january 2018 by runpunkrun
Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run - by waspabi
“I cannot believe this is my life,” he announced, looking in horror at the mess that had once been his foot. This is clearly what happened when one abandoned everything one knew for a fool’s errand of a search for a myth. London was disgusting. His shoe was ruined, and he couldn’t even do a scouring charm in front of all the bloody Muggles. Harry Potter. They might as well have been on a search for Merlin’s grave.

None of his five unlikely compatriots gave him a moment’s sympathy.

“Believe it,” Girl Weasley said cheerfully. She looked down at her book again, squinting at the small maps. “London A-Z? Are you sure all this is accurate, Hermione?”

“Aside from wizarding areas, yes,” Granger said crisply. “And it’s entire when you purchase the wizarding supplement.”

“Muggle London is massive,” Boy Weasley said glumly. He peered over his sister’s shoulder. “How are we ever going to find this bastard?”

“Logic and deductive reasoning,” said Granger.

“Innovative thinking,” Luna suggested.

Girl Weasley shrugged. “Dumb luck?”

“A combination,” said Neville, grinning.

We aren’t, Draco wanted to say, but didn’t. The city was too big, and Harry Potter was just — some boy who got lucky, once. It wouldn’t even matter if they did find him. It’s not like it would help.
hp  au  harry/draco  war  muggles  on-the-lam  camping  magic  <3 
may 2017 by runpunkrun
Death Dreams - by Writcraft (Draco tops Harry 2016)
Potter’s quiet now, clearing his throat and curling his knees up beneath his chin. He watches Draco for a moment before speaking again.

“Was it what I said?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t exactly expecting this to be the beginning of some sort of love affair.” Draco stands and goes to his bathroom. He needs cold water and distance from Potter. He can’t stand it when people see him fall apart.

“It’s not because of you.” Potter clearly doesn’t understand when someone’s body language demands they be left alone. He leans in the doorway, apparently more comfortable being half naked than Draco expected him to be. He looks good, his chest toned, firm and tanned. It’s all Draco can do to look away. “It’s about me.”

“That’s what people say to be polite.” Draco snorts and takes a long drink of water. He hadn’t realised how dry his mouth was until he came in here. He looks in the mirror and touches his fingers to a red flushed mark on his neck. Potter’s mark. He hopes it fades quickly. He doesn’t exactly want to be reminded of this for the next fortnight.

“It’s really true, though.” Potter lets out the kind of laugh Draco hates – the sort with no humour. “You don’t want that, with me. You don’t want to have to deal with the stuff that goes on in my mind these days. No one should.”

Draco stares at himself in the mirror and turns, looking at Potter. Despite his easy stance there’s something about him which is uncertain, his eyes downcast and his voice low and quiet. It’s uncharacteristic and it makes Draco pause. He should have just fucked Potter and told him to leave. He’s happy with his life. He really is. He doesn’t need to start pining over pictures of Potter and sobbing into his expensive wine over the boyfriend he’s not sure he even wants. The truth is, Draco’s not sure he’s going to be able to deal with anything Potter throws at him. He’s not sure he has it in him when there’s so much about himself he needs to work out. But there’s a part of him that resents the implication that he can’t.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  muggles  firsttimes  pining  rejection  bottoming 
september 2016 by runpunkrun
There Is Always the Moon - by firethesound (remix of pasdexcuses' "If the Sun Goes Black")
“Malfoy,” Potter says, stepping forward and holding him in place with one hand on his shoulder before Draco can react. His fingers, warm and dry, trace a careful line up the very centre of Draco’s spine parallel to where the gashes on his back have healed into thick keloid scars, shiny-pink and vivid despite all the potions and salves Draco’s rubbed into them. Last time the wounds healed cleanly, but this time they haven’t, and that’s worrisome.

“I told you,” he says helplessly, shrugging away from Potter’s hands. “I’ve been growing wings.”

“I know, but…” Potter’s staring at him oddly.

“What, you—” didn’t believe me? Draco means to say, but a sudden throb of pain through his back punches the breath from him. “It’s beginning,” he manages, gritting his teeth against the next wave of agony.

“What can I do?” Potter asks, alarmed. “Malfoy, what should I do?”

“I—” Draco grits out. His back itches, sharp and painful, and the urge to scratch at it is overwhelming. He hunches forward, and something in his back pops. He can’t, he can’t—He twists one arm up over his shoulder and claws at his skin, feels it tear open, something bristly poking up through the wound.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  potions  cursed  werethings  wings  faking-it  roommates  muggles  h/c  domestic  burrow  quidditch  amnesia 
august 2016 by runpunkrun
Left My Heart - by emmagrant01
He made Malfoy wait for ten extra minutes on purpose, and then headed out the door. Malfoy was leaning against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette. Harry fought an urge to snatch the cigarette away and stomp on it.

“Feeling better?” Malfoy chirped. He couldn't have looked any gayer, Harry thought. Under his open sherpa coat, he wore a cream-colored turtleneck shirt that just grazed the waistband of his trademark black chinos, and a rainbow-striped scarf was wound around his neck.

Harry smirked in greeting, eyes fixed on Malfoy's shirt. “Gap?”

“Fuck, no. This is J. Crew.” Malfoy took one last drag from the cigarette and then put it out against the side of the building. “Honestly.”

Harry stifled a laugh and fingered the end of the scarf. “Could you be any more obvious, Malfoy?”

“I'm not ashamed of who I am,” he replied, tilting his head. A lock of auburn-streaked hair fell across his forehead and he blew it out of his eyes. “Besides, I'm your date, so what does that say about you?” Harry rolled his eyes.

They walked down to the streetcar stop at 17 th and Castro and took the F-Line to Union Square . Harry'd never ridden in a streetcar before – he felt like he was in an old Muggle film.
hp  harry/other  harry/draco  afterthewar  aurors  muggles  out  faking-it  jealousy  firsttimes  voyeurism/exhibitionism  <3  !_brilliant  via:runpunkrun 
september 2015 by Harpijka
Left My Heart - by emmagrant01
He made Malfoy wait for ten extra minutes on purpose, and then headed out the door. Malfoy was leaning against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette. Harry fought an urge to snatch the cigarette away and stomp on it.

“Feeling better?” Malfoy chirped. He couldn't have looked any gayer, Harry thought. Under his open sherpa coat, he wore a cream-colored turtleneck shirt that just grazed the waistband of his trademark black chinos, and a rainbow-striped scarf was wound around his neck.

Harry smirked in greeting, eyes fixed on Malfoy's shirt. “Gap?”

“Fuck, no. This is J. Crew.” Malfoy took one last drag from the cigarette and then put it out against the side of the building. “Honestly.”

Harry stifled a laugh and fingered the end of the scarf. “Could you be any more obvious, Malfoy?”

“I'm not ashamed of who I am,” he replied, tilting his head. A lock of auburn-streaked hair fell across his forehead and he blew it out of his eyes. “Besides, I'm your date, so what does that say about you?” Harry rolled his eyes.

They walked down to the streetcar stop at 17 th and Castro and took the F-Line to Union Square . Harry'd never ridden in a streetcar before – he felt like he was in an old Muggle film.
hp  harry/other  harry/draco  afterthewar  aurors  undercover  muggles  out  faking-it  jealousy  firsttimes  voyeurism/exhibitionism  <3 
september 2015 by runpunkrun
P&T Muggle Adventures - by VivacissimoVoce
The first person through the door was an older witch, seventy years old if she was a day. She had wiry gray hair swept up in a bun, a long green velvet robe and the proud, posh bearing of the born wealthy. Behind her was Narcissa Malfoy. And Lucius Malfoy. And -- oh Merlin it can’t be -- Draco Malfoy.

Harry froze with his coffee halfway to his mouth as the Malfoy trio stopped and stared. Lucius was as absurdly dressed as ever, in a full, black, sweeping robe all detailed in glittering gold accents. He had a jeweled ring on every finger and clutched a polished cane in his hand. His long blond hair swept back over his shoulders and he regarded Harry as though something smelled rotten. Narcissa wore a coordinating black and golden gown, and her long blond hair was tied up in a coiling, intricate knot. Large gold earrings dangled nearly to her shoulders. She stared at Harry as though seeing a ghost.

And then there was Draco. In keeping with his family’s theme, he wore black as well, although more tastefully. His button-down shirt and black trousers would be nearly passable in London, if a bit morose for summertime. His short blond hair was neatly trimmed and not a strand was out of place. He looked at Harry as though he might be sick.

The older woman approached the counter with a delighted smile. “Good morning,” she said with warm, breathless excitement. “We’re here to check in for our Muggle Adventure.”
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  muggles  vacation  grimmauld  domestic  xmas 
august 2015 by runpunkrun
Currency - by blythely, Circe_Tigana
"You're not going to give me a little cup and ask me to give a sample as well, are you?"

The remark obviously didn't translate, because Malfoy didn't look up from the notes he was making in his ledger. "Hmm? Nearly done."

Harry hoped so. The questions were innocuous enough, if not exactly information he ever thought he'd be sharing with Malfoy. He'd never even really thought about what kinds of spells required more concentration, which ones didn't need the incantations. He just did it.

When he could. And that was the problem — explaining how unpredictable his magic was now. Harry could think of about five million other things he'd rather tell Malfoy about himself, including embarrassing sexual experiences and how he'd cheated on his accountancy exams.

He glanced around, waiting for Malfoy to finish scribbling. The workshop was the kind of unrestrained chaos that gave Harry screaming fits. A bit of mess he could cope with, but every single available surface was piled high with ... stuff.

Malfoy had spread out a huge ledger and a set of scales, and he piled the forlorn scraps of Harry's broken wand into the balance, adjusting the weights.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  muggles  magic  wands 
august 2015 by runpunkrun
Here's The Pencil, Make It Work - by ignatiustrout (HD-Holidays 2012)
The boy at the till has his back to the shop, his bony elbows on the counter as he speaks to the tall, pretty girl behind there with him. This back is thinner than the other boy's, sharper and longer, shoulder blades quite obvious, and Harry wonders why he's paying so much attention to people's backs. " – a great big hulking thing like that," the boy is saying. The upper class accent is familiar, though for a moment Harry's can't imagine why. "I couldn't trust myself, and if you lot forced me you'd be personally responsible for setting a menace on the country. The people of London – of all of England – would live in terror, and it would be your fault."

The girl, who has a very short haircut Harry always rather likes on girls, snorts. "So much bloody drama," she says, and then she nods in Harry's direction. "Sorry, hello, can we help you?"

The boy turns around, and it's Draco fucking Malfoy.

He's wearing uniform muggle clothing and a smock, and the plastic name tag pinned to the smock reads Drake, but he is unmistakably Malfoy, as blond and pale and pointy as ever.

They stare at each other.

Malfoy's hair is falling in his face, in need of a trim, not as polished as it used to look, but his fingernails, hovering awkwardly at the till, are more clean and managed than Harry can ever hope for his uneven, bitten nails to look. The collar bones and bony wrists poking through his shirt make Harry realise that Malfoy should probably look less pointy than he did in the last couple years of school, when the war was making him sick, but he doesn't. He's still quite as skinny.

After a very long, awkward moment, the girl, whose nametag says "Caitlin," raises her eyebrows and clears her throat.

Malfoy, who has been looking rather like he might be sick, seems to come to his senses. "So, er, can I help you then?" he asks, straightening up. He swipes a hand through his hair, attempting nonchalance.

"What are you doing here?" Harry returns, completely gobsmacked. The last time he saw Malfoy, he was wasted, and he remembers it in flashes – Malfoy blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, Malfoy smiling with the unfamiliar boy, himself sleeping with Ginny in the end, which he really doesn't want to think about at all. Now Malfoy is standing in a muggle place, presumably working there. Malfoy is wearing a smock.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  muggles  drunk  out  ot3  sleeping/together  pining  xmas  friends-to-lovers 
july 2015 by runpunkrun
The Fall of the Veils - by lettered
Malfoy opened the folder. From what Harry could see over Malfoy’s shoulder, it contained the case file on Hannah Abbott—where she had been found, interviews with the people who had seen the body, pictures.

Narang was watching them read the file. “They said a curse killed her,” she said, after a long moment. Harry could feel the sour swing of emotion that came with her words. “I suppose at least you’re back to killing your own kind.”

“That’s not true,” Malfoy said. “We still kill fairies and unicorns and rainbows for sport.”

Narang glanced at Harry. “He always like this?”

“Not really,” Harry said. “Usually he’s quite sweet, really. It’s only when one of our colleagues dies that he gets slightly sarcastic.”

“Huh.” Narang’s face was blank, but the aggression that had been in her emotions was slowly twisting. “I suppose it’s your business now, innit? Doesn’t matter to me. You Magicals can just go magic yourself to death, for all I care.”

“I’ll be really sarcastic then,” Malfoy said earnestly.
hp  harry/draco  war  afterthewar  aurors  magic  muggles  politics  telepathy  rejection  pining  asexual 
july 2015 by runpunkrun
The Trials of a Malfoy Manchild - by Nattish
He was halfway to the stairwell when he heard an uproar from the classroom.

And that was the sort of short-lived peace he was learning to expect from this boy.

Draco charged for the classroom, certain at worst he would discover Scorpius had snuck in that blasted toad and was having it croak bubbles and eat flies off people’s noses. Merlin forbid he had really gone off the deep end and was levitating all the desks and declaring himself Overlord of the Classroom. He was prone to those sorts of fanciful dramatics.

It was none of that. Scorpius was standing on his chair, cheeks blotchy with laughter, while the teacher stood at the whiteboard wielding a meter stick like a longsword.

“And then what happened?” Scorpius cried.

“And then I vanquished him!” said the teacher, pointing the stick challengingly. “I aimed my wand at his head and blasted him clear across the battlefield, where he crumpled like a broken doll. The battle was over -- and we had won!”

The children jumped up and cheered. Scorpius turned, pointing at them all imperiously.

“I told you! I told you he was a wizard! The most powerful wizard in the world, and you all had better pay me and him some resp --"

“Scorpius,” Draco barked.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  epilogue  muggles  school  progeny  flirting  via:runpunkrun 
july 2015 by yarngeek
The Trials of a Malfoy Manchild - by Nattish
He was halfway to the stairwell when he heard an uproar from the classroom.

And that was the sort of short-lived peace he was learning to expect from this boy.

Draco charged for the classroom, certain at worst he would discover Scorpius had snuck in that blasted toad and was having it croak bubbles and eat flies off people’s noses. Merlin forbid he had really gone off the deep end and was levitating all the desks and declaring himself Overlord of the Classroom. He was prone to those sorts of fanciful dramatics.

It was none of that. Scorpius was standing on his chair, cheeks blotchy with laughter, while the teacher stood at the whiteboard wielding a meter stick like a longsword.

“And then what happened?” Scorpius cried.

“And then I vanquished him!” said the teacher, pointing the stick challengingly. “I aimed my wand at his head and blasted him clear across the battlefield, where he crumpled like a broken doll. The battle was over -- and we had won!”

The children jumped up and cheered. Scorpius turned, pointing at them all imperiously.

“I told you! I told you he was a wizard! The most powerful wizard in the world, and you all had better pay me and him some resp --"

“Scorpius,” Draco barked.
hp  harry/draco  afterthewar  epilogue  muggles  school  progeny  flirting 
july 2015 by runpunkrun
Noah Veltman - Code, the newsroom, and self-doubt
“We’ve got to stop this madness.

There is no line where you suddenly cross over from non-coder to coder, or from fake developer to real developer.  There’s no high priesthood. You start learning, and then you just keep going. This is how I put it when speaking at the BBC’s recent Data Day:

The notion that code is this hyperspecialized thing, scary punctuation soup on a dark screen, something that someone else does, is wrong, and it’s toxic.

There are people all over the world who don’t consider how code might help them do their job, because they think it’s a big leap. It’s not. It’s thousands of tiny steps, and everyone takes them in a different direction. A little bit of code goes a long way.

People who do flirt with the idea of learning to code often get discouraged quickly. They get stuck, they get frustrated, and they look at the cool things that “real developers” are doing and decide that will never be them, so why bother? Well guess what? We were all that person. We are all STILL that person. We all get stuck. We’re all figuring it out as we go along. Welcome to the club.

People who are already doing great things with code are reluctant to teach others and share their work because they think it’s too basic or too sloppy to be useful to anyone else. It’s not true. Take your Code of Dorian Gray out of the attic.  You have much more to teach us than you realize.”
journalism  codeforamerica  news  code  developers  development  learning  education  muggles  bbc  2015fellowshipreader 
july 2013 by migurski

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