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@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 22, 2026, 5:29 AM

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One big ‘meltdown,’ in The Ribbon Gift

I had been almost sick with anticipation as summer break approached. I would have failed an important exam had Scorpius not intervened (Potions was his favorite subject). I was already packing my bag when Father's edict had come down. I would not be spending any holiday at ‘that house.' I made a weak argument about his time at Grimmauld Place, and he said that it was not the same thing at all. So what did I do? I spent most of the summer sulking and waiting for owls from Scorpius. Over those interminable weeks, I had time to think about things. For example, how I had chosen for a surrogate my father's enemy, and in *his* house. His house, and the house of my friend. Scorpius was a restrained correspondent, but his last letter contained these ominous lines: Grandfather having meltdown. Confronted me about your absence. He's on the warpath. Watch yourself. p.s., What did you *do * to him?The Ribbon Gift by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 21, 2026, 5:38 AM

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‘Stream’ in Truth, Justice, and the Wizarding Way

He's propped up in bed. Daylight is streaming in through the east windows. She's coming at him with a steaming cup. "Drink this." One eyebrow checks it out. "Potions, Alice?" "Just drink it." He takes a gingerly sip, mimics regurgitation. She crosses her arms over her chest. He takes another sip. "You are... bossy," he says, and swallows. "In the domestic sense. So how *is* young Ronald?" She narrows her eyes. "Why don't you just look, like you've always done? Use your Legilimency, and have a good, long look." Well, this is... something. "I admit, I used to spend a *lot* of time inside your head. I went there again and again. It became rather compelling, and illegal, I suppose. But ... I looked to see what you wanted, so I could... deliver on the promise...? It's what *I* wanted. "I can still feel the remnants of your thoughts, you know."Truth, Justice, and the Wizarding Way by rachels _memories IN WHICH RECOVERY, REFORMATION, AND RECONSTRUCTION ARE NO MATCH FOR WAR-TIME TRAUMA, CHARACTER FLAWS, AND GHOSTS OF FATHERS PAST
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 21, 2026, 5:34 AM

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‘Stream’ in Age is Just a Number on a Potions Bottle

I had never been this close to her before. The weight of her, the scent, the tangle of her curls on my bare skin, it was — well, especially from the overlay of sixteen year-old 'Louis.' I knew she was drunk and leaning in to her 'student' — her helpful student with the 'interesting' jewels — not *me,* her questionable, devastatingly handsome, former enemy of a certain age. But whoever I was or pretended to be, she was in my new and youthful arms, her breath warm at my collar, her fingers tugging at my hair. And her trippy stream-of-consciousness that started off personal and got worse from there. "Are you sure this is your *real* hair color?" — she held a section up to the street lights — “You know, you really should trim this, or you'll get split ends" — she turned and inhaled my neck — "Smells good, though — *you* smell good... but what — what are you wearing? Is that a boutique cologne?" — she pulled back with a scolding frown — "Not very appropriate for a student, is it?" "Why Professor Granger," I said, as she wavered and worked to keep her vertical. "Do you really think students are not allowed to have nice things?"Age is Just a Number on a Potions Bottle by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 5:21 AM

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No ‘signals’ but there is a ‘sign’ in My Muggle Diary

Secretly, or not so secretly, I thrilled at the violence done, apparently in my defense. I liked the way he looked me over, and I told myself it was because he was checking my well-being. I must have sported some kind of crooked grin, because he matched it, lifted his chin to that familiar angle, tapped those gloves across the back of his opposite hand where it rested on his cane, and resumed his appraisal of the window display "They are each... charming, I suppose," he said. "Whichever one you choose." I tried to focus on the dresses, with no success at all. He sighed. "Let's get you to Flourish and Blotts, then." He touched my elbow for a moment, like he had in Hogwarts dungeon, to point me in the direction of the bookstore. It was crowded with students, and some parents, and by the time I made my purchases, there was no sign of Mr. Malfoy, or his damaged son.My Muggle Diary by rachels_memories Our know-it-all recounts how she learned some indelible lessons, attempted to wring intelligence from the father of a classmate, and worked on her issues. Or how the war was (not) won.
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 18, 2026, 5:29 AM

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‘Payment’ (‘pay’) in Blood Work

The parties. Those important events meant to entertain important people. Twelve Grimmauld would be dressed, polished, and trimmed within an inch of its charmed life. The Tisbury house would be pruned and primped for each summer season of teas, fetes, and garden parties. Narcissa would be presented to one smarmy Ministry official after another until she'd stumble — by accident, of course — upon more important conversations. The Old Knights, they called themselves, the Dark Lord's true followers and occasional lieutenants — Mother, Father, Uncle Orion, and Aunt Walburga, Abraxas Malfoy, Rosier, and a few others would confer in hushed tones, adult tones not meant for children's listening ears. The Malfoy Manor parties — *they* were de rigueur for everyone who was anyone. The scale was grander. The ceilings, higher. The conversations, even more important. Sometimes secrets were revealed. Secrets people would pay for.Blood Work by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 17, 2026, 5:32 AM

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Three times the ‘effort’ in Mid-Century Modern

"T'll tell you this, Rita. I *did* go home for the holiday, and I did make an effort to control my thoughts of Minerva. Not a very successful effort, but an effort nonetheless. "When I got home, I learned about my father's latest campaign de jour: Finding a mole suspected of passing Death Eater plans to the Order. I dont know what things were like in *your* day, but —“ "My day was your day, Lucius." Lucius snorts. "Not by much —“ "You were only three years behind me. It's the same ‘day.’” "Alright. It's the same day. So, back in *our* day, the Order was simply a sanctimonious gang of malcontents and blood traitors. It was like that the second time around, too, but with better branding. But that is another story. In *this* story: There I was, home, with my brand new Dark Mark, being read in on Death Eater operations. The Dark Lord, incensed that this mole was even an agenda item, ordered my father to find and terminate the infiltrator. To be honest, the idea that one of those poor conscripts could infiltrate *us* —“Mid-Century Modern by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 17, 2026, 5:28 AM

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‘Effort’ in The Dreamer and the Dreamed

He is dreading the prospect of having to 'wrangle the troops' or worse, having to defend his 'mud-blood kink.’ But what's one more failure to add to the growing list? Oh yes, Lucius' failures are vast, and will, no doubt, cause the ruination of his family. So what else is new? But Bella's timing was perfect. Preserve blood purity by coitus interruptus — not the first such attempt in history, but more likely an effort to gain Bella points in the Dark Lord's favor. It's actually worse than that. In the drawing room, Bellatrix has launched into a full-bore Cruciatus, straddling Hermione on the floor with her wand jammed under Hermione's chin, while the Snatchers jeer and cheer in equal measure. By the time Lucius arrives, Hermione is fully unconscious, and Lucius is grateful for that small favor. Bellatrix, apparently deputized to run this show, runs it right into the ground. Whatever else she may be (insane comes to mind), Bella is no tattoo artist. In the messy denouement, Lucius' traitorous house elf shows up and ruins everything for everybody, then apparently has the audacity to go and die.The Dreamer and the Dreamed by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 16, 2026, 6:58 AM

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‘Call’ in Scene of the Crime

He soon stirred and coughed out a soft laugh when the restraints tightened. He didn't bother testing them. He knew that I knew how much Incarcerous was needed, what was needed to hold him. "Awaken, sleeping beauty." "I hate you." "Join the crowd, cher," I said, lightly, cheerfully — more cheerfully than I felt. "We're calling ourselves Imperious Anonymous." "That's not even funny, Lucius." I didn't touch his... forehead. I already knew he was somewhat feverish. And I knew he wouldn't want — "You are aware that you've been... *dosed*?" "Of course I'm aware." He took a deep breath and stared up at the arched ceiling of my bedchamber. "It's — astonishing that you thought you could barge in to my private rooms and abduct —“ "I’ll have you know I was there in my official capacity." "Your 'official capacity’? As a kidnapper?"Scene of the Crime by rachels_memories LUCIUS IS A LIBERTINE OF THE HIGHEST ORDER, SO IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE FOR HIM TO ABDUCT AND RESTRAIN HIS DISENCHANTED FRIEND AT THE MANOR. AFTER ALL, DESPERATE TIMES CALL FOR DESPERATE MEASURES AND LUCIUS IS DESPERATE TO RECONCILE WITH HIS OLD SCHOOLMATE, SEVERUS.
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 15, 2026, 6:45 AM

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My poor 🧠 can’t seem to find the appropriate day’s prompt 🙏🏻 and while I don’t have ‘exterior’ I do have ‘outside’ in Bright Little Lies

He tries and fails to hear anything from outside the bed curtains. Are there no other Gryffindors having trouble sleeping? No one else tossing one off to the father of — Of someone? No? It's just him. Just Harry. But he can still look at this picture loop, and imagine... Lucius doing something magical and mysterious and unbearable to Draco, some erotic pureblood ritual from ages ago, eons. 'The old ways are not dying, he'd say. 'Not with *this* family.' And Draco would say - no, he would *intone* solemnly, 'No, Father,' then drop to his knees. Harry blushes again and closes the Prophet, and gives himself a moment to remember... Lucius had liked Harry's blushes. Or — he seemed to. Maybe he likes a certain amount of innocence in his lovers. Narcissa isn't innocent. Not having brought forth the heir...Bright Little Lies by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 13, 2026, 5:39 AM

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It’s ‘distracting’ when Narcissa takes control, in Blood Work

"On my back?" "On your back." While Lucius positioned himself on the bed, Narcissa began stripping as well, as efficiently, as he had — but including the socks. Lucius propped himself up on his elbows and watched the divestiture with mounting desire. She was not yet the voluptuous beauty she would soon become, but Lucius noted the luscious curve of her waist, the firm and weighted suggestion of her breasts, the rounded promise of her hips as she circled the bed, the softness of her belly and the mound beneath, with its perfect pink petals peeking out from the cleft. He was distracted, too, by the full, plenum shape of her arse until he realized she was bending to make adjustments to the ribbons and cords they had secured to the underside of the bed. "Narci.." "Arms at your sides, Lucius." He laughed again but obeyed. And with her wand and a modified Incarcerous, she quickly bound his wrists, then his ankles to the bed-posts. He tugged once at the knots, testing their strength. He could have broken these bonds but why? This was not about him breaking free.Blood Work by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 13, 2026, 5:33 AM

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Spicy ‘distractions’ in Mid-Century Modern

'''You want my direction. You want my correction, my — authority.' '''Yes, I — when I need it.’ '''And do you need it now?' For the briefest moment, her eyes dipped to the problem in my trousers. ''Is it — wrong, Professor?' "She cocked her head to the side. 'You know the answer to that.' "Well, yes. I knew it if the answer was Abraxas on the topic of muggle morality and how we mustn't be distracted by it. And I was quite distracted at the moment. "And Minerva seemed to be on the verge again, but this time there was an undercurrent to her words, a *feeling* — as if she was casting Dark — concocting some insidious, wand-less spell. And I felt it — I felt it in my spine, in my throat, in my bollocks. It made me want to get down on my knees, right there on the floor. Kneel at the altar of Minerva, push those thighs open and drink from the font of knowledge. "It wasn't as if I *hadn't* had that fantasy. Of course I had —Mid-Century Modern by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 11, 2026, 8:22 PM

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I admit she had youth and bravado going for her, while I had a bad attitude and some small ability to anticipate her curses.

[from my WIP, Denouement Days]

@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 11, 2026, 7:29 AM

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I may have shared this snippet before, but here it is again, because it contains The Word (‘exhaust’)

She doesn't yet know, and perhaps never will know, the delicate charms and spells I've cast, the methodical magic l've worked, to arrange this little assignation. I've had to select, with the greatest of care, each tender memory, to extract (temporarily), or twist (only slightly), so that I might now replace each succulent slice of deliciousness I've stolen. True, may have lost my mind, or at least a part of it, and now she has, too, but only provisionally, as I am hastening to reassemble the pieces. Maybe *she* should be the one reclining on smarmy Dr. Marvela's couch. No, I don't like *that* idea at *all.* "Come, Hermione," I say, and take her elbow as she stumbles again. "You're taking me back to my tower, remember?" We are halfway there, and I guide her to a bench, apparently placed there on the path for patients who need a quick sit-down, or a collapse. She sinks into one side and I slide in carefully beside her. She stares ahead, focusing on nothing. Having your memories thoroughly jumbled then reconstructed is probably exhausting. Not probably, it definitely is. But, wait, she rallies!The Tower Room by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 10, 2026, 5:34 AM

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‘Teeth’ in Truth, Justice, and the Wizarding Way

He's lost focus in the flames. It's as if he's never heard the crackle and fizz of a fire before. As if it's a new sound, without any connotations or associations. "I'm here, Lucius. Right here." "I know where you are," he says, too quickly. But she is here, back at the foot of his bed. "You think I'm not tracking you like a... You think I can no longer track you? I have never *stopped* tracking you. I'm having this crisis of conscience just for you, you know." "Is that what this is?" (Oh, good question, brightest witch. Good question for the wreck of the family Malfoy.) He is so *tired.* The manor is cold, but no colder than this house. He isn't shaking. His teeth aren't chattering. She is soft in his arms when she climbs under the covers. Soft and *warm* and corporeal, and he just holds her, holds her *tight* against the stealing chill.Truth, Justice, and the Wizarding Way by rachels_memories IN WHICH RECOVERY, REFORMATION, AND RECONSTRUCTION ARE NO MATCH FOR WAR-TIME TRAUMA, CHARACTER FLAWS, AND GHOSTS OF FATHERS PAST
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 10, 2026, 5:28 AM

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‘Teeth’ in The Ribbon Gift

"What does your *father* think about the Sorting Hat's determination?" I met his appraisal as steadily as I could. "If I hadn't been sorted to Slytherin, sir, I'd never have befriended your grandson." His eyebrows shot up. His grin broadened. He looked across the table at Scorpius, then back at me. "Is that what you've done? *Befriended* our dear Scorpius?" I didn't know what he was asking, although he was obviously enjoying himself, looking expectantly around the table — at Scorpius, Draco, Narcissa. "Leave the boy alone, Lucius." Narcissa smiled but her voice didn't. "Mr. Potter is Scorpius' guest. Let's not antagonize him." "I think we both befriended each other.." I offered, helplessly. I looked to Scorpius, but he just shrugged. "How very egalitarian of you two," Lucius said, still grinning, still showing his small, perfect teeth.The Ribbon Gift by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 8, 2026, 6:20 PM

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archiveofourown.org/works/86268941

Another story for the HP Hedonism Fest!

Scene of the Crime LUCIUS IS A LIBERTINE OF THE HIGHEST ORDER, SO IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE FOR HIM TO ABDUCT AND RESTRAIN HIS DISENCHANTED FRIEND AT THE MANOR. AFTER ALL, DESPERATE TIMES CALL FOR DESPERATE MEASURES AND LUCIUS IS DESPERATE TO RECONCILE WITH HIS OLD SCHOOLMATE, SEVERUS. By rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 8, 2026, 5:34 AM

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‘Mental’ in The Tower Room

"I remember," she says tentatively. "I — you said I should touch you any way I wanted, and you said —“ "I said I'd *show* you." And I *will* show you... But I'm *not* showing her. I'm pressing my face into her soft belly, and she's fumbling at my damp cheek... "Do you *remember, Hermione?" I raise my head up, past her grasping fingers, and see her eyes — questioning. “How *are* your memories? Is everything... in its place?" She almost frowns. "I don't know." But I think she *does* know. "I haven't done any more fiddling with your... mental integrity. Once is enough for one... wizard." She considers that, doubts it, but files it away for future reference.The Tower Room by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 8, 2026, 5:30 AM

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‘Mental’ in Blood Work

"Mother, what do you plan on *doing* about Bella?" “*Do* about her? Whatever do you mean, daughter?" Druella had looked at her daughter with feigned shock and offense, but this had fooled no one, certainly not Narcissa, who had been thinking long and hard about the right and proper place for her eldest sister, specifically the fourth floor of St. Mungo's. But Druella was a cruel and penalizing Legilimens, and she could hear Narcissa's thoughts loud and clear. Narcissa was used to mental intrusions by her mother. She never took them personally. And she figured, in her contemplative way, that her mother, in that moment, had simply been grieving the loss of Andromeda, whose name and likeness had been excised from the family tapestry only days before. And that, as they say, had been that. With the addendum being the sobering realization that there would be, in fact, no retribution for Bellatrix, and what she had done. No, this was not at all a subject Narcissa wished to discuss.Blood Work by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 8, 2026, 12:54 AM

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archiveofourown.org/works/88025736

A smutty little one-shot written for the HP Hedonism Fest

Get Off My Lawn by rachels_memories
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialSep 6, 2026, 6:03 AM

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‘Sigh’ in Scene of the Crime (wip)

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