Starter Writer! My stories are all original. Do not copy. Do not inspo off my stories unless asked for permission. Copying is a straight block. Dc: nyarizu — if you wish to ttm or ask questions — MINORS DNI
Any injury your soulmate gets appears as a faint silver mark on your skin. Y/N starts waking up with mysterious cuts and bruises. The only person constantly showing up injured at Hogwarts is Draco.
Any injury your soulmate gets appears as a faint silver mark on your skin. Y/N starts waking up with mysterious cuts and bruises. The only person constantly showing up injured at Hogwarts is Draco.
Hogwarts hosts a holiday gift exchange. For weeks, you receive anonymous gifts and letters from someone who seems to know everything about you. You become determined to figure out who it is before the Yule Ball. Theodore keeps helping you investigate. What you don’t realize is that he’s helping because he already knows the answer.
Hogwarts hosts a holiday gift exchange. For weeks, you receive anonymous gifts and letters from someone who seems to know everything about you. You become determined to figure out who it is before the Yule Ball. Theodore keeps helping you investigate. What you don’t realize is that he’s helping because he already knows the answer.
Theodore Nott and Y/n become best friends through an online game and spend months talking without knowing they know each other in real life. Then they accidentally meet…
Theodore Nott and Y/n become best friends through an online game and spend months talking without knowing they know each other in real life. Then they accidentally meet…
Draco Malfoy version of my T.N story! ———————————————— Hogwarts hosts a holiday gift exchange, the kind everyone pretends not to care about while secretly taking it far too seriously. Yours becomes impossible to ignore. At first, it’s small things—perfectly chosen. A book you were going to buy but never mentioned. A charm placed on your gloves so your hands never go numb in the corridors. Your favorite sweets, always appearing at just the right moment after a bad day. Then the letters start. No name. No signature. Just careful, precise handwriting that feels almost… familiar. Like whoever is writing them has spent a long time watching you without ever stepping into the light. And the unsettling part is that they’re right about everything. Your habits. Your moods. The way you pretend not to notice certain people in certain corridors. The way you always pause before you say what you actually think. You start looking for patterns. Timing. House. Handwriting. Whoever it is knows you too well to be random. By the time the Yule Ball approaches, you’re convinced you’re close to finding them. And Draco Malfoy is the last person you seriously consider—because Malfoy doesn’t do quiet. He doesn’t do subtle. He doesn’t do careful kindness with no audience. Except he does. He just makes sure no one is ever watching the right version of him. At the Ball, you finally notice it—the way his attention keeps finding you and then moving away just a fraction too late, like he’s correcting himself. Like he almost got caught. And for the first time, the thought stops feeling like a guess. It feels like the answer.
Draco Malfoy version of my T.N story! ———————————————— Hogwarts hosts a holiday gift exchange, the kind everyone pretends not to care about while secretly taking it far too seriously. Yours becomes impossible to ignore. At first, it’s small things—perfectly chosen. A book you were going to buy but never mentioned. A charm placed on your gloves so your hands never go numb in the corridors. Your favorite sweets, always appearing at just the right moment after a bad day. Then the letters start. No name. No signature. Just careful, precise handwriting that feels almost… familiar. Like whoever is writing them has spent a long time watching you without ever stepping into the light. And the unsettling part is that they’re right about everything. Your habits. Your moods. The way you pretend not to notice certain people in certain corridors. The way you always pause before you say what you actually think. You start looking for patterns. Timing. House. Handwriting. Whoever it is knows you too well to be random. By the time the Yule Ball approaches, you’re convinced you’re close to finding them. And Draco Malfoy is the last person you seriously consider—because Malfoy doesn’t do quiet. He doesn’t do subtle. He doesn’t do careful kindness with no audience. Except he does. He just makes sure no one is ever watching the right version of him. At the Ball, you finally notice it—the way his attention keeps finding you and then moving away just a fraction too late, like he’s correcting himself. Like he almost got caught. And for the first time, the thought stops feeling like a guess. It feels like the answer.
