♥ "Welcome to the Family" for lady_rhiyana ♥
Title: Welcome to the Family
Author: tvdaughter
Rating: PG/Not Naughty
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Author's Notes: This is a first for me…I hope this is what is wanted. A special thank-you to my beta, Nic. The Latin within the story is a Lutheran theology of being both a ‘saint and sinner.’ I sincerely believe that is how Draco, in the light of the canon I created, views himself. Justice, in my idea, also means to be both a saint and sinner; that is the fair balance betwixt the two.
Great-Aunt Hebe Albertus is the sister of Iris Crouch, who was the mother of Daphne Prewett who was the mother to Molly Prewett Weasley. Hebe is also the sister of Nemesis Malfoy, the mother of Abraxas Malfoy, father to Lucius Malfoy. Not only are the Weasleys, Malfoys and Prewetts included in this line but the Lestranges, Longbottoms, Blacks, and Lupins, too.
Summary: Written for the D/G Exchange which was to include a shared obscure relative between Ginny and Draco, a tattooed Draco and mention of the War. This is my first attempt at a fic exchange and I do hope it lives up to the original wants of the requester.
Welcome to the Family
It is a blue house. It was a large blue house. It was not a mansion, a plantation, a great-grand castle. It was an ordinary large blue Muggle house situated on a very large pond that was not quite a lake. On the large pond was a rickety, old wooden dock that was just dangerous enough to keep the passerby away and dangerous enough to lure small children and courageous teenagers to its edge.
As the muck and mire of the hot humidity swept away to a gentle cool night, two lone figures sat on the perilous edge. Their legs and feet disappeared over the side of the dock and dipped into the thick green waters. Upon closer examination, the figures were quite different.
There was obviously a young woman, no older than twenty six. Her boundless red hair fell over the back of her bare shoulders. From a good distance in the setting sun, it would look like flames framing her gentle face. Freckles were splashed from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She wore a simple green cotton tank top and khaki shorts. Her skin, despite the freckles, gave the appearance of enjoying the summer sun as it glowed in the setting light. Her eyes were looking over the calm waters and perhaps, just maybe, they twinkled too.
There was obviously a young man, no older than twenty seven. His hair was brilliantly silver and glimmered against the dark waters. He had been enjoying the sweet sun earlier and was still without a shirt. He wore only a pair of dark pants, rolled up at the knee to allow his legs and feet to enjoy the coolness of the water. His skin was far paler than hers and unadorned with any imperfection of Mother Nature’s doing. He was advantageously built for a young man of his age and drew quite the crowd of swarming females. His eyes were looking at the water as it pooled around their lower bodies in a show of swirls and underwater movement.
“It’s been a long week.” The young woman commented idly to neither him nor herself.
He didn’t reply to the statement floating around them. He was much too sly for such a thing. “I like it here.”
It seemed direct but in truth it wasn’t. He had no intention of making a statement of confirmation on his current and future status- yet. He was merely trying to get the young woman’s ideas beyond it being a very obviously long and trying week.
“I do to.” She answered with her voice softer than before.
A safe silence permeated the air and the sun kept continuing to set; slower and slower. It was both comfortable and tense as they sat there.
The young woman let her gaze move from the horizon to the body of the young man. Though it wasn’t blemished by natural causes it did bear two distinct purposeful marks. The first was on his left forearm, not quite as visible as it once was. It looked more like a horrible third-year hex gone wrong than the emblem of evil it had been. The scars from the Mark had woven their way into his developing muscles and bone. It had faded but its meaning had not.
Her eyes followed from his forearm to the expanse of his back. On the pale canvas was a masterpiece of redemption. This was a tattoo done by his best friend’s wife; a clever artful witch trained by the greatest magical tattoo artists from India to the States. Eri had crafted on the young man’s back the picture of Lady Justice, flowing in green and silver. His heritage of serpents wound around the Lady as she moved in fluidity. Below her was inscribed simul iustus et peccator. The words themselves remained steady and permanent in a Muggle-like fashion.
Her body soon caught-up with her eyes. She gave a shy grin and let her hand move to her right hip where she also bore artwork by Eri. It was not so elaborate as his but just as meaningful. It was simpler and to the point in Gryffindor fashion. It was a crimson and gold banner that moved back and forth with the very date the War ended on it. The day the War ended is the day she believed her life began again.
Reconstruction was not just for the wizarding world at large but for each individual witch and wizard themselves. Everyone had to be reconstructed and remade to live in a world where the present threat of evil was not so grand or dramatic.
The young man caught her eyes and smirked immediately. A slow blush, barely noticeable, crept across her face. He knew what she was thinking about and of.
After the War, things had changed and his life became a life of paying for the sins of his father. He did this not for that man, a man who had spent the rest of a short life brooding in a decrepit study, but for another. This man, his godfather, who still lived, had paid dearly for a sociopath-power-hungry wizard.
Severus Snape was to be a sacrificial lamb and only because he’d made an Unbreakable Vow with a woman. The young man’s mother had intervened for his life and Severus almost paid fully. He’d been wise enough and strangely beloved to survive the attack by the Master. He survived at a great cost but today remained a changed man. He had shared, in a rare moment of openness with his godson; it was the love of two women that had redeemed him. It was for their love he was determined to live a life worthy of it. It wasn’t politics, power, wealth or glory but the reflection of love.
It had taken the young man by surprise and had shown him is path. He made a concerted effort to change his future and fortune. He enrolled in the Academy for Wizarding Law Enforcement. He fought prejudice, past sins, and his own name. He began to slowly and surely prove himself to be trusted and necessary in the fight against a sleeping and quieter evil that had grown in Voldemort’s wake. He had been a Magical Law Enforcer for the past seven years and was in command of his own force. He did everything by the book, not deviating from a single word.
His life outside the Ministry was by no man’s or wizard’s work or device. He kept quiet company with a small group of intimate friends born from his school days and early days at the Academy. He rarely returned to his childhood home and preferred the occupation of his flat or his best mate’s flat. On the rare occasion, he made his way to a small close-knit pub for a drink. His leisure was spent flying.
The young woman had made her way into his circle of friends through his best mate. Blaise Zabini had gone to work for the Nimbus Broom Company in the area of broom development. His partner was surprisingly a young woman of past acquaintance, although unfavorable. In the early days of their partnership, both wondered if this would be the disaster of their careers. It wasn’t, hadn’t been and indeed had been the making of them both. The two had become the youngest in the Company’s history to land on the front page of Quidditch Weekly for the ingenious redesign of the Holyhead Harpies’ brooms. Several months later they broke away from Quidditch brooms and developed a style of broom for everyday usage by the fashionable witch and wizard. It had set their careers into the sky, figuratively speaking that is. Blaise and his partner developed more than a good-working relationship- they had developed a devout friendship. She was a welcome guest in their home and had begun to rely on Blaise’s wife, Eri as a source for support.
She and Eri were partners in crime in their own right. Blaise suffered but not too horribly now that he had a son to stand-by him. He also relied on the young man to save him from the over-powering female presence.
The young woman and young man were the official godparents of Theophilus Starbuck Zabini- a little boy who held such a place in their hearts. Their mutual affection had drawn them together and had left Eri to comment to her husband that they had given birth to Cupid himself.
The attachment over the last week had only grown and grown in such a nature that the young woman could be as bold as she had become. Her lips began to trace the tattoo on his back and he groaned in delight at her touch. It wasn’t long before he let his own nature give way and had turned over and pinned her on her back on the wooden dock. He loomed over her, his fingers entwining with hers and letting his eyes drink in the radiance of her hair flowing around her.
There was little doubt, he was in love.
There was little doubt, she loved him back.
He face gave a classic confident smirk. “Weasel, let’s stay here.” It was the boldest and most uncharacteristic move he had made the entire week.
She smiled at the innocent insult. “Why Ferret?”
“Because I like it here…because you like it here, too…”
“I do. I love it here. I love being here with you.” She hedged, uncertain how far her courage and brashness would go. “I love you.” Apparently further than she thought.
The smirk disappeared and was replaced a face of sincere contemplation at her words. His voice, usually dripping with sarcasm and egoism, was quiet and revering. “I love you, too.”
“Then it is settled. We’ll stay here. You will find a Stateside Wizarding Law Enforcement agency to take over or perhaps you will lie about in true Ferret fashion. I will turn the forsaken catacombs into my own studio, creating a broom that works in the waters of a murky pond. We’ll hide from irate families, understanding or misunderstanding friends, and we’ll live out the rest of our days in our ancestral home.” She sounded as if she was weaving a fairytale but they both knew it was more real and possible than ever.
He captured her lips with his own swiftly and possessively. He enjoyed her taste. The Weasel tasted like fresh grapes, summertime, and hope. “It’s settled. Will you notify Blaise or shall I tell him that I have stolen his muse and partner?”
“I think it best I tell him, he can’t hurt me. You- he can kill.”
“That he might, but I believe Eri would save me.”
“It is going to take more than Eri to save you from my family.”
“It is going to take more than the powers of Albus Dumbledore and Merlin combined to save me from them.”
“We could always bribe them.”
“How very Slytherin of you…”
“I can be cunning.” She replied indignantly.
“Of course you can.” He soothed, kissing her again.
“Should we tell her?”
“I think she knows. She’s been watching from her balcony.”
“Do you think she knew---before then? That perhaps that is why she called us?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Draco and Ginny continued to share a passionate exchange on the dock with little care of the presence watching them.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I should have hoped they would be a little more discreet but I merely shrug at the couple. I may be a spinster but I am not beyond the realms of love, not the young and fanciful lust of youth, but of the forever love I see before me.
“Saracen, take me to the family.”
My valet takes my unsteady hand and leads me to a small parlor room. There in that room are numerous photographs of my family- the great and noble Albertus clan. I take a hard look at my brothers and sisters, long gone from this earth. I gather what little power I possess and face towards a large tapestry on the north wall. My hand touches the old magical fabric weaved by own mother centuries ago. It is strong and elegant and displays the qualities that have made us last in the magical world to which we belong.
Saracen hands me my wand; made of the hair of Pegasus herself. I am a proud witch. I am proud of what I have done to preserve our line and what I am doing now to continue it. Below my name there is no witch or wizard. I refused marriage and in doing so, I inherited the wealth and name of our family.
I rectify that today as I have watched them together. I have watched them closely since they arrived at my bidding. I was certain from the moment my attorney handed me their files and histories I had made a wise decision.
I point my wand and in a magic forgotten even at the illustrious Hogwarts School, I place two names below mine and connect the three.
Draco Nigellus Malfoy & Ginvera Weasley Malfoy
Perhaps it is old-fashioned of me to assume they will wed but I do not believe I hope falsely. It will happen in its right and perfect time. They are my heirs; my adopted children and the bearers of the Albertus name and my estate and wealth. I have no reservations and the papers are drawn.
“Saracen, good and faithful man, I am ready to take my leave. Please watch over my children.”
His craggily etched face breaks into a rare smile. “I will ma’am.” His voice is thick in the American brogue I have come secretly to adore. He bows his last and takes his leave from me.
I take my seat in the only chair in the room. It is deep, dark and settled to me. I lay back into it and the portraits come to life. The portrait nearest me is my long departed and most beloved sister, Iris. She was perhaps the most winning of our family and it is notable to whence the red hair came from for dear Ginerva.
“You made the right decision, Sister.”
“You are bias Iris. Ginvera takes far too much after you and she is of your family line.”
“Oh no, Hebe! I am sincere, both Ginvera and Draco are excellent choices. They will do right by us all. They will right what has been wronged and fix the broken.”
“You were always an idealist Iris.”
“And it did not disappoint me Hebe.”
“It did not, I concede and I long to see you, Sister.”
“Your time comes soon to pass between the Veil. We are waiting for you. I am waiting.”
“I will see you soon.”
“Sleep well, dear Hebe. Sleep well.”
The portrait becomes silent and I take one look about the room for the last time. I look at the tapestry and I let the warm smile of love for my family pass over me. I gaze at the new flowing names and I know.
I just know.
“Welcome to the family, Draco and Ginny. Welcome.”
And with that I let my eyes drift shut and welcome the peace.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: Draco and Ginny share an obscure, ancient, filthy rich relative, just about to kick the bucket.
The tone/mood of the fic: Light, but not too cutesy. Some mention of the consequences of the war.
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: Tattooed!Draco.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Not too hard-core, please.
Canon or AU? HBP and down.
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): Abusive!Lucius.
Author: tvdaughter
Rating: PG/Not Naughty
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Author's Notes: This is a first for me…I hope this is what is wanted. A special thank-you to my beta, Nic. The Latin within the story is a Lutheran theology of being both a ‘saint and sinner.’ I sincerely believe that is how Draco, in the light of the canon I created, views himself. Justice, in my idea, also means to be both a saint and sinner; that is the fair balance betwixt the two.
Great-Aunt Hebe Albertus is the sister of Iris Crouch, who was the mother of Daphne Prewett who was the mother to Molly Prewett Weasley. Hebe is also the sister of Nemesis Malfoy, the mother of Abraxas Malfoy, father to Lucius Malfoy. Not only are the Weasleys, Malfoys and Prewetts included in this line but the Lestranges, Longbottoms, Blacks, and Lupins, too.
Summary: Written for the D/G Exchange which was to include a shared obscure relative between Ginny and Draco, a tattooed Draco and mention of the War. This is my first attempt at a fic exchange and I do hope it lives up to the original wants of the requester.
Welcome to the Family
It is a blue house. It was a large blue house. It was not a mansion, a plantation, a great-grand castle. It was an ordinary large blue Muggle house situated on a very large pond that was not quite a lake. On the large pond was a rickety, old wooden dock that was just dangerous enough to keep the passerby away and dangerous enough to lure small children and courageous teenagers to its edge.
As the muck and mire of the hot humidity swept away to a gentle cool night, two lone figures sat on the perilous edge. Their legs and feet disappeared over the side of the dock and dipped into the thick green waters. Upon closer examination, the figures were quite different.
There was obviously a young woman, no older than twenty six. Her boundless red hair fell over the back of her bare shoulders. From a good distance in the setting sun, it would look like flames framing her gentle face. Freckles were splashed from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She wore a simple green cotton tank top and khaki shorts. Her skin, despite the freckles, gave the appearance of enjoying the summer sun as it glowed in the setting light. Her eyes were looking over the calm waters and perhaps, just maybe, they twinkled too.
There was obviously a young man, no older than twenty seven. His hair was brilliantly silver and glimmered against the dark waters. He had been enjoying the sweet sun earlier and was still without a shirt. He wore only a pair of dark pants, rolled up at the knee to allow his legs and feet to enjoy the coolness of the water. His skin was far paler than hers and unadorned with any imperfection of Mother Nature’s doing. He was advantageously built for a young man of his age and drew quite the crowd of swarming females. His eyes were looking at the water as it pooled around their lower bodies in a show of swirls and underwater movement.
“It’s been a long week.” The young woman commented idly to neither him nor herself.
He didn’t reply to the statement floating around them. He was much too sly for such a thing. “I like it here.”
It seemed direct but in truth it wasn’t. He had no intention of making a statement of confirmation on his current and future status- yet. He was merely trying to get the young woman’s ideas beyond it being a very obviously long and trying week.
“I do to.” She answered with her voice softer than before.
A safe silence permeated the air and the sun kept continuing to set; slower and slower. It was both comfortable and tense as they sat there.
The young woman let her gaze move from the horizon to the body of the young man. Though it wasn’t blemished by natural causes it did bear two distinct purposeful marks. The first was on his left forearm, not quite as visible as it once was. It looked more like a horrible third-year hex gone wrong than the emblem of evil it had been. The scars from the Mark had woven their way into his developing muscles and bone. It had faded but its meaning had not.
Her eyes followed from his forearm to the expanse of his back. On the pale canvas was a masterpiece of redemption. This was a tattoo done by his best friend’s wife; a clever artful witch trained by the greatest magical tattoo artists from India to the States. Eri had crafted on the young man’s back the picture of Lady Justice, flowing in green and silver. His heritage of serpents wound around the Lady as she moved in fluidity. Below her was inscribed simul iustus et peccator. The words themselves remained steady and permanent in a Muggle-like fashion.
Her body soon caught-up with her eyes. She gave a shy grin and let her hand move to her right hip where she also bore artwork by Eri. It was not so elaborate as his but just as meaningful. It was simpler and to the point in Gryffindor fashion. It was a crimson and gold banner that moved back and forth with the very date the War ended on it. The day the War ended is the day she believed her life began again.
Reconstruction was not just for the wizarding world at large but for each individual witch and wizard themselves. Everyone had to be reconstructed and remade to live in a world where the present threat of evil was not so grand or dramatic.
The young man caught her eyes and smirked immediately. A slow blush, barely noticeable, crept across her face. He knew what she was thinking about and of.
After the War, things had changed and his life became a life of paying for the sins of his father. He did this not for that man, a man who had spent the rest of a short life brooding in a decrepit study, but for another. This man, his godfather, who still lived, had paid dearly for a sociopath-power-hungry wizard.
Severus Snape was to be a sacrificial lamb and only because he’d made an Unbreakable Vow with a woman. The young man’s mother had intervened for his life and Severus almost paid fully. He’d been wise enough and strangely beloved to survive the attack by the Master. He survived at a great cost but today remained a changed man. He had shared, in a rare moment of openness with his godson; it was the love of two women that had redeemed him. It was for their love he was determined to live a life worthy of it. It wasn’t politics, power, wealth or glory but the reflection of love.
It had taken the young man by surprise and had shown him is path. He made a concerted effort to change his future and fortune. He enrolled in the Academy for Wizarding Law Enforcement. He fought prejudice, past sins, and his own name. He began to slowly and surely prove himself to be trusted and necessary in the fight against a sleeping and quieter evil that had grown in Voldemort’s wake. He had been a Magical Law Enforcer for the past seven years and was in command of his own force. He did everything by the book, not deviating from a single word.
His life outside the Ministry was by no man’s or wizard’s work or device. He kept quiet company with a small group of intimate friends born from his school days and early days at the Academy. He rarely returned to his childhood home and preferred the occupation of his flat or his best mate’s flat. On the rare occasion, he made his way to a small close-knit pub for a drink. His leisure was spent flying.
The young woman had made her way into his circle of friends through his best mate. Blaise Zabini had gone to work for the Nimbus Broom Company in the area of broom development. His partner was surprisingly a young woman of past acquaintance, although unfavorable. In the early days of their partnership, both wondered if this would be the disaster of their careers. It wasn’t, hadn’t been and indeed had been the making of them both. The two had become the youngest in the Company’s history to land on the front page of Quidditch Weekly for the ingenious redesign of the Holyhead Harpies’ brooms. Several months later they broke away from Quidditch brooms and developed a style of broom for everyday usage by the fashionable witch and wizard. It had set their careers into the sky, figuratively speaking that is. Blaise and his partner developed more than a good-working relationship- they had developed a devout friendship. She was a welcome guest in their home and had begun to rely on Blaise’s wife, Eri as a source for support.
She and Eri were partners in crime in their own right. Blaise suffered but not too horribly now that he had a son to stand-by him. He also relied on the young man to save him from the over-powering female presence.
The young woman and young man were the official godparents of Theophilus Starbuck Zabini- a little boy who held such a place in their hearts. Their mutual affection had drawn them together and had left Eri to comment to her husband that they had given birth to Cupid himself.
The attachment over the last week had only grown and grown in such a nature that the young woman could be as bold as she had become. Her lips began to trace the tattoo on his back and he groaned in delight at her touch. It wasn’t long before he let his own nature give way and had turned over and pinned her on her back on the wooden dock. He loomed over her, his fingers entwining with hers and letting his eyes drink in the radiance of her hair flowing around her.
There was little doubt, he was in love.
There was little doubt, she loved him back.
He face gave a classic confident smirk. “Weasel, let’s stay here.” It was the boldest and most uncharacteristic move he had made the entire week.
She smiled at the innocent insult. “Why Ferret?”
“Because I like it here…because you like it here, too…”
“I do. I love it here. I love being here with you.” She hedged, uncertain how far her courage and brashness would go. “I love you.” Apparently further than she thought.
The smirk disappeared and was replaced a face of sincere contemplation at her words. His voice, usually dripping with sarcasm and egoism, was quiet and revering. “I love you, too.”
“Then it is settled. We’ll stay here. You will find a Stateside Wizarding Law Enforcement agency to take over or perhaps you will lie about in true Ferret fashion. I will turn the forsaken catacombs into my own studio, creating a broom that works in the waters of a murky pond. We’ll hide from irate families, understanding or misunderstanding friends, and we’ll live out the rest of our days in our ancestral home.” She sounded as if she was weaving a fairytale but they both knew it was more real and possible than ever.
He captured her lips with his own swiftly and possessively. He enjoyed her taste. The Weasel tasted like fresh grapes, summertime, and hope. “It’s settled. Will you notify Blaise or shall I tell him that I have stolen his muse and partner?”
“I think it best I tell him, he can’t hurt me. You- he can kill.”
“That he might, but I believe Eri would save me.”
“It is going to take more than Eri to save you from my family.”
“It is going to take more than the powers of Albus Dumbledore and Merlin combined to save me from them.”
“We could always bribe them.”
“How very Slytherin of you…”
“I can be cunning.” She replied indignantly.
“Of course you can.” He soothed, kissing her again.
“Should we tell her?”
“I think she knows. She’s been watching from her balcony.”
“Do you think she knew---before then? That perhaps that is why she called us?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Draco and Ginny continued to share a passionate exchange on the dock with little care of the presence watching them.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I should have hoped they would be a little more discreet but I merely shrug at the couple. I may be a spinster but I am not beyond the realms of love, not the young and fanciful lust of youth, but of the forever love I see before me.
“Saracen, take me to the family.”
My valet takes my unsteady hand and leads me to a small parlor room. There in that room are numerous photographs of my family- the great and noble Albertus clan. I take a hard look at my brothers and sisters, long gone from this earth. I gather what little power I possess and face towards a large tapestry on the north wall. My hand touches the old magical fabric weaved by own mother centuries ago. It is strong and elegant and displays the qualities that have made us last in the magical world to which we belong.
Saracen hands me my wand; made of the hair of Pegasus herself. I am a proud witch. I am proud of what I have done to preserve our line and what I am doing now to continue it. Below my name there is no witch or wizard. I refused marriage and in doing so, I inherited the wealth and name of our family.
I rectify that today as I have watched them together. I have watched them closely since they arrived at my bidding. I was certain from the moment my attorney handed me their files and histories I had made a wise decision.
I point my wand and in a magic forgotten even at the illustrious Hogwarts School, I place two names below mine and connect the three.
Draco Nigellus Malfoy & Ginvera Weasley Malfoy
Perhaps it is old-fashioned of me to assume they will wed but I do not believe I hope falsely. It will happen in its right and perfect time. They are my heirs; my adopted children and the bearers of the Albertus name and my estate and wealth. I have no reservations and the papers are drawn.
“Saracen, good and faithful man, I am ready to take my leave. Please watch over my children.”
His craggily etched face breaks into a rare smile. “I will ma’am.” His voice is thick in the American brogue I have come secretly to adore. He bows his last and takes his leave from me.
I take my seat in the only chair in the room. It is deep, dark and settled to me. I lay back into it and the portraits come to life. The portrait nearest me is my long departed and most beloved sister, Iris. She was perhaps the most winning of our family and it is notable to whence the red hair came from for dear Ginerva.
“You made the right decision, Sister.”
“You are bias Iris. Ginvera takes far too much after you and she is of your family line.”
“Oh no, Hebe! I am sincere, both Ginvera and Draco are excellent choices. They will do right by us all. They will right what has been wronged and fix the broken.”
“You were always an idealist Iris.”
“And it did not disappoint me Hebe.”
“It did not, I concede and I long to see you, Sister.”
“Your time comes soon to pass between the Veil. We are waiting for you. I am waiting.”
“I will see you soon.”
“Sleep well, dear Hebe. Sleep well.”
The portrait becomes silent and I take one look about the room for the last time. I look at the tapestry and I let the warm smile of love for my family pass over me. I gaze at the new flowing names and I know.
I just know.
“Welcome to the family, Draco and Ginny. Welcome.”
And with that I let my eyes drift shut and welcome the peace.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: Draco and Ginny share an obscure, ancient, filthy rich relative, just about to kick the bucket.
The tone/mood of the fic: Light, but not too cutesy. Some mention of the consequences of the war.
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: Tattooed!Draco.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Not too hard-core, please.
Canon or AU? HBP and down.
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): Abusive!Lucius.