Amortentia

Summary: Will they or won't they? Oh, they will. Fluff for when you need it. Romantic drabbles, multiple pairings, mostly Dramione but some by request.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Credit where credit is due, Joanne Rowling.

A/N: Amortentia will be a collection of romantic drabbles, some sexually explicit, some not; mixed pairings, mixed universes, etc. Will update at least once a week, likely more. Each drabble/one-shot will be labeled with the title, pairing, universe, rating, and summary. Feel free to contact me here or via tumblr (olivieblake) if you have a request. There will be no tragedies here. Fluff only. Enjoy!


Table of Contents:
(Updated as new chapters are added)

Humor Series

5 | Bachelorette, Pt. I of V, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
7 | Bachelorette, Pt. II of V, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
9 | Bachelorette, Pt. III of V, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
12 | Bachelorette, Pt. IV of V, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
13 | Bachelorette, Pt. V of V, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
21 | Reunion, Pt. I of IV, Ensemble Pairings (Dramione, Ronsy, Blinny, Nottgrass, Pottgood)
24 | Reunion, Pt. II of IV, Ensemble Pairings (Dramione, Ronsy, Blinny, Nottgrass, Pottgood)
25 | Reunion, Pt. III of IV, Ensemble Pairings (Dramione, Ronsy, Blinny, Nottgrass, Pottgood)
73 | Reunion, Pt. IV of IV, Ensemble Pairings (Dramione, Ronsy, Blinny, Nottgrass, Pottgood)
18 | Marauders Doing Everyday Things, Ep. I (Marauders)
20 | Drunk Epilogue Rewrite (Canon pairings)
29 | Drunk Rewrite, Pt II: The Forest Again (Canon pairings)
35 - 59 | The Real World: Hogwarts, Ensemble Pairings
65 | Drunk History: The Voldemort Wars, Part I (No pairing)
68 | Drunk History: The Voldemort Wars, Part II (No pairing)

Dramione one shots

2 | Mousetrap, Pt. I of II, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
3 | Mousetrap, Pt. II of II, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
4 | Reparations, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
11 | Wedding Dates, [background pairing] Pottgrass / Ronsy (Harry x Daphne, Ron x Pansy)
19 | Below the Surface, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
27 | How to Lose Her, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
28 | Ride or Die, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)*
60 | Correspondence, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
63 | Pirate Queen, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
64 | Better If You Run [background pairing] (Theo x Harry)
66 | Paradox, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
69 | Rook [background pairing] (Theo x Daphne)
72 | Valour (Draco x Hermione)

Mixed Pairing one shots

11 | Wedding Dates, Pottgrass / Ronsy (Harry x Daphne, Ron x Pansy)
16 | American Boys, Theomione (Theo x Hermione)
6 | Toothbrush, Hinny (Harry x Ginny)
14 | Locker Room, Viktevra (Ginny x Krum)
22 | Chaotic Good, Hansy (Harry x Pansy)**
23 | Happenstance, Tomione (Tom x Hermione)
26 | Chimera, Sevmione (Severus x Hermione)
32 | Three Wishes, Krumione (Viktor x Hermione)
33 | Better, Parkweasel (Percy x Pansy)
34 | The Fairer Sex, Hidden Pairing
61 | Movements, Black Pansy (Sirius x Pansy)
62 | The List, Pottgrass (Harry x Daphne)
64 | Better If You Run (Theo x Harry)
67 | Battle of the Bands, Lucissa (Lucius x Narcissa), Mulcibery (Darian x Caleb), Wolfstar (Sirius x Remus), Jily (James x Lily), Tedromeda (Ted x Andromeda)
69 | Rook, Nottgrass (Theo x Daphne)
70 | Wonderland, Tomcissa (Tom x Narcissa)
71 | Beast, Jily (James x Lily), Wolfstar (Sirius x Remus)
74 | S.P.E.W., Themione friendship (platonic Theo x Hermione)
75 | Vive le Tour, Mulcibery (Darian x Caleb), Nottpott (Theo x Harry)

This World or Any Other Storyverse (Clean/Marked/Youth)

1 | Moves, Nottgrass (Theo x Daphne)
8 | The Story, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
10 | Epilogue, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)

Stories that have been moved to Draught of Living Death:

15 | Not With a Bang (hidden pairing)
17 | 100 Days, Dramione (Draco x Hermione)
30 | Perchance to Dream, Pottgrass (Harry x Daphne)
31 | Birds, Regulene (Regulus x Marlene)

* Now a multi-chaptered fic: Ride or Die
** Now a multi-chaptered fic: Nobility


Moves

Pairing: NottGrass (Theo x Daphne)

Universe: This World or Any Other storyverse (Clean/Marked)

Rating: M for sexual content, language

Summary: Daphne Greengrass is tired of being put on a pedestal. Enter Theo Nott.


This was not the best party Daphne had ever been to. Not the worst, either, but certainly leaning more towards that end of the spectrum. She had fervently hoped that coming of age and entering the social scene would be a little more exciting, but really, it was more of the same. The only difference was that now, she had to be there, smiling politely while her parents discussed her pedigree, offering her up to the rich and inbred like she was some kind of prized livestock. It was exhausting.

Top of her house, you know.

Not true. Pansy's grades were better.

She would have been a shoo-in for prefect if not for ridiculous politics.

If you consider "having less merit than other possible options" to be politics, then yes.

Comes from beautiful stock, as you can see.

She half expected her father to strip her naked and gesture enthusiastically to her breasts and thighs. It was only a matter of time.

She sighed, growing bored with her surroundings. It was still fairly early in the night, so she had a considerably long time to waste; unfortunately, Pansy wasn't there, and Astoria was still too young for these things, so Daphne was left to her own devices.

She looked around the room, admiring the ceiling of Narcissa Malfoy's charmed ballroom. It was a beautiful home. Unlikely to be hers, of course; not that she was all that unhappy about it. She'd held tight to her virginity until curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she thought she'd chosen well in Draco. They were highly compatible in looks, for one. There was no denying he was exceedingly handsome, and he was only improving over time. He would have been an ideal match in every way her parents considered important - wealthy, well-bred, well-mannered - and not exactly a worst case scenario as far as Daphne was concerned. Smart, attractive - and the sex hadn't been unpleasant, per se. She just wanted someone who was going to be a little more in love with her than they were with themselves.

So Draco was out.

They agreed to keep their single tryst between them, and she hadn't done anything with anyone else since then. Not that she'd really felt that compelled, if she were being honest. Her other options weren't exactly ideal, and she figured she could manage to wait until someone interesting came along. Everyone she knew at this point was either a moron, an outright snob, or they were constantly putting her on a pedestal. Either they advised her that she should bed them because of how impressive they were, or they insisted that she should love them without question because of their mindless devotion.

She wanted neither.

Was it so hard to just be genuine?

She looked around the room. Draco was there, but busy. Elsewhere. She didn't particularly care. Marcus Flint was there - again. Giving her eyes, of course.

She shifted away. No thank you.

She heard a small cough behind her, and then someone sidled up next to her.

"These things are fucking murder, aren't they?"

Daphne looked over to make eye contact with Theo Nott, whom she hadn't even noticed was at the party. Not that anyone ever seemed to notice Theo Nott. Certainly not Daphne. He wasn't particularly . . . well, notable, was he?

Well dressed, at least, she remarked internally, biting her lip appreciatively at his elegantly cut dress robes.

A shame he was so . . . what was a nice way to say it? Slender, she supposed.

"Could be better," she allowed, giving him a disinterested shrug.

"Here," he said, handing her a small flask.

"What's this?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Firewhiskey," he replied. "You look like you need it. I nearly always do."

She pursed her lips, flashing him a look of haughty skepticism. "Really?" she asked drily. "So you're, what - a bad boy?"

"That's Draco's move," he corrected her, bringing the flask to his lips and tossing it back. "I'm actually wonderful."

"Draco's move, hm?" she murmured, fighting a smile. "Okay. So what's yours?"

"I don't need moves," he told her, giving her an impertinent smirk.

She let her eyes travel deliberately up and down his lithe frame, lingering on his narrow chest as he stretched out languidly, leaning casually against the wall.

"Actually, you kind of do," she said, lightly admonishing him in her most aristocratic tone.

To her surprise, he laughed.

"I might need them," he admitted. "But I suspect you've seen all the moves already, haven't you?"

"A few." She sighed, putting her hand out. "Fine. I'll have a drink."

"There you go," he said jovially, putting the flask in her hand and grinning at her as she took a sip, grimacing as it went down. "Daphne Greengrass, witch gone wild."

"Don't," she threatened, giving him a look. "This doesn't mean I like you."

"Oh, I know that," he agreed. "I mean, you do like me, but I would hardly consider this my primary evidence."

"I didn't realize you were collecting evidence," she remarked faintly, unimpressed.

Okay. A little impressed.

He looked around. "Walk with me," he suggested.

"Why?"

"You don't like to sit still," he said, shrugging.

She raised a perfectly arched brow. "Me specifically?" she asked dubiously. "I hardly think you'd know."

"Walk with me," he said again, more a recommendation than a request, "and I'll tell you how I know."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she conceded. "But only because there's nothing else to do."

"I can't imagine there would be a better reason," he said solemnly, moving to exit the ballroom. "Gardens?"

"This isn't some romantic walk," she warned, though she moved to follow. "Don't think you're going to get anywhere with me."

"It is already not a romantic walk by virtue of me being present," he informed her. "I'm not here for romance. Thoughtful intellectualism, though." He gestured wildly. "Boatloads."

"Sarcasm, you mean," she corrected him, feeling the breeze rustle through her auburn hair as they stepped outside. "Not a particularly high form of wit."

"You injure, Greengrass, really," he replied loftily.

Well. She could do worse for entertainment than sparring with Theo Nott, she supposed.

"So," she said. "What do you know about me?"

"Did you only come outside with me to talk about yourself?" he asked, taking another swig from his flask. "I thought you were raised better than that."

She glared at him. "Don't," she said again.

"How about a trade," he offered. "I'll tell you something that I know about you, and in return, you can tell me something you know about me."

"I don't know anything about you," she said, sniffing.

He nudged her slightly. "Same, then," he told her, adopting her arrogant tone.

"Fine." She stopped, turning to face him. "I know you're a too-clever prick with no moves."

"Ouch," he said, grinning again despite the slight. She was almost taken aback by how thick-skinned he was. "Okay. And you, Daphne Greengrass," he said, making good on his promise, "you have your best grades in the classes where we move around a lot. Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures - you know, that ilk. You don't like theory, because like I mentioned before, you don't like to sit still."

She felt her jaw drop - how did he know that? - but recovered quickly.

"Stalk much?" she managed arrogantly, pivoting to continue their walk. They were well into Narcissa's gardens now, and she could smell the gardenias.

"Your turn," he said with a shrug, and she looked at him in disbelief.

"Seriously?" she asked, and he gave her a curt nod. "Fine."

She paused for a moment, thinking about what she knew about him. Not much, really.

"Is it true your mother died when you were born?" she asked, and she saw him flinch.

"Ouch," he said again. "Heavy."

She offered him a half-hearted head tilt of apology. "I told you I don't know much," she reminded him.

"Fair," he pronounced. "Yes, that's true. And my very aged father, who saw nothing in me but the ghost of his beautiful dead wife" - his tone utterly reeked of bitterness and Daphne could tell this was a sensitive area for him - "never forgave me for it."

"Well, it's not like it was your fault," she said, slightly appalled.

Theo shrugged. "I'm not sure he would agree."

He'd been right. Too heavy.

"Your turn," she reminded him, and he exhaled slowly, nodding with relief.

"You bite your nails and then charm them to look like you don't," he said, and she instinctively reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

"How did you know that?" she demanded, fixing him with a sullen glare.

"You bite them in class when you're thinking, but obviously they're charmed," he said, grabbing her hand from his shoulder and waving it around in front of her. "This can't be what they really look like."

She ripped her hand from his grasp, hiding it behind her back. "Do you just stare at me all day?" she asked, indignant.

"I notice things," he replied evasively. "Your turn."

"You are extremely creepy," she said, pouting.

"Opinion, not fact," he said, shrugging dismissively. "Try again."

She huffed a little. "You - " she paused. "You swear a lot."

"A lot?" he echoed, feigning confusion. "Fuck, I hadn't noticed."

"Hilarious," she said, grimacing.

He smiled. He was sort of handsome when he smiled. His eyes were so green.

"I suppose that one can stand," he said, humming with thought as he considered his next observation. "Let's see." He perked up, thinking of something. "You never eat dessert at school, but you do have a stash of Fizzing Whizbees."

"Don't tell me you've been in my room!" she exclaimed, aghast.

"No, no," he said quickly. "Your mum sends them to you every month, and sometimes you have them in your schoolbag."

"They're really good!" she insisted, feeling her cheeks flush. "Better than treacle tart, in my opinion."

"They are good," he agreed. "I'm not judging you."

She squinted at him. He really wasn't, was he?

"Good," she said, nodding firmly.

Okay. He was more than sort of handsome, she supposed, looking at him again. Maybe it was just the moonlight or something.

"Your turn again," he said casually.

"Your eyes are green," she offered, trying to sound aloof and failing tragically. Her stomach flipped a little when he let his tongue trace over the smile on his lips.

"That's true," he said, sparing her the trauma of a sarcastic response.

"Your turn," she said, coughing a little as she ducked to hide her face. How embarrassing. She didn't know what had come over her.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he told her, not breaking eye contact.

Well, she'd certainly heard that one before. Many times. Because, of course, she was beautiful, and not in a subjective way, either. She was classically, proportionally, artistically beautiful; the architecture of her face was flawless. But there was something about the way it sounded when it was Theo Nott who said it. It was effortless. Factual. Not a trace of irony or ulterior motives. Just a small thing, some little observation that he'd thought about before. An easy, passing remark, like he knew she knew it - the same way he knew she liked Fizzing Whizbees - but wanted to tell her anyway.

"You've been wanting to tell me that all night," she said, hazarding a rather safe guess.

He shrugged. "Six years if we're doing the math, but who's counting?"

She smiled. It was her first real smile all night.

"You won't be able to trick me into anything with flattery, you know," she said, playfully tapping his arm.

"I don't have to," he said loftily. "Want to hear something else about you?"

"Sure," she said, suddenly conscious of his proximity to her. They had stopped walking several minutes ago and now stood face to face, alone in the garden.

His mouth twitched into a smirk. "You want to kiss me," he informed her.

"Big words from someone who hasn't even tried," she mocked, lifting her chin defiantly. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

Though he was. Stupid Theo Nott.

"And deprive you of the honor?" he asked, catching her chin in his hand and running his thumb across her lower lip. "Never."

She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, felt her heart pounding in her chest. Stupid Theo Nott.

"Only if you want to," he whispered.

Strange, she thought. He meant it. He wasn't going to pressure her. That much was obvious, as she watched him swallow with difficulty.

Oh, hell. Why not.

She tentatively lifted her chin, touching her lips to his. It was gentle, soft, experimental - almost not a kiss at all. Almost nothing more than him being the air she breathed, her just being there, next to him, with him, touching him - a brush of curiosity, and then she pulled away.

"Is it my turn again?" she asked, dazed.

"I have no fucking idea," he mumbled incoherently, closing his eyes and touching his forehead to hers.

"Kiss me instead," she suggested, and he didn't hesitate.

His lips were soft but commanding and she could taste the firewhiskey on his breath, the spice of it filling her mouth in a way that stirred excitement she'd never felt before. His kiss was dizzying in the best of ways and when he let the tip of his tongue trace across her lip, she slid her tongue along his, inviting him. Coaxing him. His hands were on her waist and she slid them up along her gown, taking his hands and placing them over her breasts. He inhaled sharply against her mouth and she smiled in spite of herself.

Not always so confident, are we, Theo Nott?

"Come on," she whispered, pulling him a little bit further and stepping into the gazebo in the garden. She'd been here often enough to know her way around the Manor's manicured grounds, and while there was no chance of being seen among the gardenias, there was no reason to disregard romance entirely. This place was beautiful.

He pressed her against a pillar, moving to kiss her neck and she slid her hand against his stomach, starting to unbutton his shirt. He wasn't as muscular as Draco or some of her other suitors but he was firm and sturdy under her touch, and she felt his abs contract as she brought her fingers to the waistband of his trousers.

A little clever maneuvering from her quick fingers and she had his full length in her hand.

"Daphne," he hissed, gasping a little as she slid her palm against it. "Are you - "

"I'm sure," she told him, and she was. Quite sure.

He pulled her towards him, wrestling with her gown to bring his hands to her thighs, running them along her legs and then gently putting her against the low fencing, propping her up. She wrapped her long legs around him, giggling a little at his haste, tugging the hair at the back of his head to catch a glimpse of his green eyes, darkened with longing.

"Slow down," she told him, kissing him slowly, languorously. "Take your time."

He was a quick learner. He brought his hands up to the top of her gown, letting his thumbs trace the outline of her neckline and slipping them under the fabric, teasing her nipples as he bent to kiss her neck.

"Better?" he asked, and she nodded.

He let his mouth travel lower until he'd peeled the dress away from the top of her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth and flicking his tongue over it. She moaned a little at that, leaning back and pulling him towards her, returning her attention to her ministrations along his hardened length. In response, he bit down a little, sucking against her skin.

Who knew he had it in him?

His hands slipped back under her gown, pushing aside the lace of her underwear as he let his index finger circle her opening, teasing her. Torturing her.

"Faster than that," she gasped, leaning into his touch.

He grinned, taking her clit between his fingers and waiting for her tell-tale whimper.

"As the lady wishes," he murmured, lifting her gown up to her thighs and dropping to his knees.

His breath on her inner thighs brought her a mystifying elation that she'd never known and she gladly parted her legs, reaching down to take a tight handful of his thick, dark hair. He sunk his teeth into her thigh and she gasped, stumbling back against the railing as he roughly pushed her knees further apart, simultaneously bringing his mouth to her clit and slipping his finger inside her.

She let her head fall back, limp at the feel of his tongue against her, knowing her legs were shaking and wondering how much longer she could stand. There was a pulsing inside her that she hadn't known could exist; a tiny, mystifying ball of agonizing pleasure that nagged at her for escape.

"Theo," she said, raking her fingers through his hair. "Theo, I - "

He abruptly came to his feet, turning her around and keeping his hand against her, slipping his fingers inside her and then bringing them back to rub against her clit, his movements crude and rapid and anything but gentle.

"Yes," she managed. "There - like that - "

She leaned back into his chest, enjoying it. She wasn't a delicate flower, after all. She found she was quite enjoying him being a little rough with her.

"Your cock, Theo," she said, turning to mutter in his ear. "I want your cock."

"I'm not the only one with a filthy mouth," he mused, complying. Some readjustment on his part and then he was inside her, buried into her in a single thrust, his hand still relentless against her clit and she was speechless, so close to the edge she thought she might explode.

Was this how it was supposed to feel? She didn't know. She didn't care. Whatever this was, it was bliss. It was savage and wild and untamed bliss.

"There, yes - yes, yes - Theo, yes - "

He brought his free hand to her mouth and she bit down hard as she came, every muscle in her body suddenly finding release, shaking as she heard him stifle a groan into her hair, twitching against her and staggering forward, bracing them both with one arm against the pillar.

It took almost a full minute for even a partial recovery.

"We can't date, you know," she panted, still relying on him to remain upright.

"Oh I don't want to date," he said, gasping for breath. "Can you imagine, if I had to date you? Flowers and makeup sex and all that? Exhausting."

"Too much," she agreed, tipping her head back against him.

He kissed her slowly, sweetly.

"I realized there is one thing I don't know about you," he commented when they broke apart.

"I find that hard to believe," she remarked, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled against her skin. "Just one thing," he said, and she smiled.

"Go ahead," she murmured.

He shifted, wrapping his arms around her. "I don't know your move," he said regretfully.

"I don't need moves," she told him, and he laughed.

"No," he agreed, pressing his lips to her shoulder. "No, you certainly don't."


a/n: fluffy Dramione to come in the next day or so. Thanks for reading!