2/11/2023 c1 juangabrieleslabonlopez
me watching the drarry bashing/slander comment and A.K. comment about "end all drarry" and created by "this"Guest:
well I guess I will send you to the hellish gulag because people like you should be re-educated and reserve in the hellish gulag forever because im a drarry communist and people like you should be despised as long as you lived and if you don't get used to it or make peace with it or us or etc then you get what you deserve far worse than death and anything and fuck drarry haters and drarry bashers etc but more importantly and large priority fuck dude who is A.K. and anonymous guess and there is a very special specific places in the eternal beyond hottest hells importantly reserved for you vrigin ass betch people and people like you should be discouraged and slanderd at like you did to them, shitte fan vrigin ass betch, to gulag at you now and make unalive in The Backrooms with monsters in Infinite of levels.

4/27/2022 c1 End All Drarry
(How a straight!Harry dimension hopping would really deal with bent4draco!Harry)

WORLD #333 – The One with No Excuse
A.K. recognized Number Four Privet Drive immediately. While never really a good sign, it wasn't necessarily a bad one either. He snuck his way quietly into the house. He double-checked the cupboard under the stairs out of habit, though he could tell there wasn't anyone in there.

When he got to the littlest bedroom, better known as Dudley's former second bedroom, he pressed his ear up to the door. Only a soft breeze and the sound of sleeping could be heard, so he cast a silencing charm & made his way on in. Harry's bed had been magically enlarged to a respectable looking Queen size, and he saw a pair of pale feet sticking out from under the massive fluffy looking comforter.

A.K. thought there seemed to be a few more lumps than normal, and as he looked around the room he saw not one, but two magical trunks. A.K. bent down to take a peek in them and in the first found his old Invisibility cloak, some Gryffindor robes, and the Marauder's Map. All perfectly normal things that brought A.K. comfort to see. Then he looked into the second trunk and found a bottle of hair gel. This was certainly different. It was when he pulled out another school robe, but this time with the emblem of Slytherin on it, that A.K. stumbled backwards in surprise.

"Wha-" A muffled voice called out from under the comforter. "What's going on?" Harry's head came peeking out from the covers. Only it was the bottom of the covers right next to the pale feet that now appeared to not belong to Harry.

A blonde head popped out from the top of the covers, slowly waking up as well. "Yes, love? Something the matter?"

Harry cracked open an eye to see the sheer disgust & horror on the face of the strange man in his room. He closed his eyes again, wondering if he could go back to sleep. Harry tiredly asked, "Who are you?"

"Avada Kedavra!" A.K. called out hitting the sleepy, young Malfoy scion in the face.

"Avada Kedavra?" the exhausted Harry said as he tenderly rubbed his lover's feet. "That's a pretty silly name," he explained with his wrist bent lazily. "How's aboots I call you A.K. instead?"

"Avada Kedavra!" A.K. insisted aiming towards Harry, who just happened to sit up at the right moment and missed being hit by only millimeters.

"Fine, fine, no nicknames. Got it." Harry said as he leaned backward towards Draco, tiredly wiping the crust from his eyes. He was showing a fair amount of asscrack through the top of his pajama pants. "Drakey Poo? Why isn't my Silver Serpent ticklish anymore?"

A.K. stepped forward and made sure not to miss this time. "Avada Kedavra!"

And just like that Harry Potter was dead.

A.K. just shook his head in disappointment. "How many of these goddamn worlds are there?"

While A.K. wasn't homosexual, and therefore didn't have the best judgment when it comes to attractive males, he still had to admit he could probably do better than Ron. Maybe someone like Oliver or even Seamus. Hell, Bill or Charlie might swing that way. But it doesn't matter what twisted justification a Harry makes. There's no excuse for Malfoy. Or Snape. Ever. Ever ever.

A.K. frowned looking at Harry's surprisingly fit and toned dead body next to the sickly pale ferrety thing...

Anyone shipping Harry and Malfoy is despicable and gets what they deserve.

Fuck you Drarry writers - there's a specific special place in the hottest hells reserved just for you creepy moron authors!

5/26/2021 c1 Guest
I like this story so far. I’ve just read the first chapter, and there are barely any story’s which are cannon, (besides the epilogue), these are my favorite Harry Potter fanfics. (:

4/24/2021 c35 sad gurl
oh every time i reed of storys wiv harry/draco 2gethrr i cry an start 2 cut my selfs again in pains
y do u hurt us so much? it not tru an we all no it not tru but u stil post untru
i bleeds be coz off u not caring i cut 4 u telling all lies wiv ships of peepole hoo not be 2gether ever
we crys cut an crys morr
plez stop 4 us
sadd gurlz
Sep 20 2009

1/25/2021 c30 Willowohwisp
this is an amazing story!

8/27/2020 c35 sab31897
Oh. My. God. This was SO GOOD

3/5/2020 c35 with his cock
ππππππππππππππππππππππ
"AARRGHH!" Malfoy woke with a start, sweat covering his whole body.
A dream - no a fucking nightmare! - like he'd never had before!
Fancying Potter! SHAGGING POTTER! He needed to owl his mother and organise a mind healer to meet him in Hogsmead this coming weekend. Fortunately it was only two days, but still.
He briefly considered if some potion or a substance had been slipped to him at dinner? Unlikely as the house elves would never allow it. He knew better than to ask Snape for any assistance. Chalk it up to experience and NEVER tell his father was best way to go.

Despite multiple sessions with various mind healers, Malfoy could not throw off the recurring dreams until end of school year.
He'd ended up a nervous wreak as even Pomfrey's dreamless sleep potions refused to work. They were vivid, detailed, varied and oh so bloody realistic!
He was listless, hardly slept and failed half his end of year exams. It had taken most of his father's influence, calling in multiple favours and a fifty thousand galleon contribution to the schools muggleborn education fund to keep him with his year mates. Having to repeat a year would mean so much loss of face, as to be fatal in Slytherin political circles.
That rage in his father's face - and him snapping his cane in half - when stood in headmaster's office as Dumbledore exceeding politely suggested that muggle fund donation, would never leave him. IF this continued next year, he'd find himself at Durmstrang before christmas.

As it was he expected extreme punishments from father during two month summer holidays. And of course Lucius Malfoy's punishments were nothing to laugh at. While nowhere near as pain inducing or sadistic as his aunt's famous rages, the prospect of facing those subtle paternal tortures made his blood run cold.
It was ALL POTTER'S FAULT! But the Gryffindor had ignored him since before that first dream. He couldn't imagine that stinking scarhead keeping silent if he had been involved? Mudblood bitch Granger wouldn't break the rules like that and Weasel was too stupid to accomplish anything so subtle.

Draco's problems disappeared during July and August at Malfoy Manor, but returned with avengeance after arriving back at Hogwarts. He was packed off to the Scandinavian school before beginning of October. Lack of rest, disorientation and nerves caused him to vomit on arrival by portkey. That had been quite an ominous start to his new placement at the institute. It didn't get terribly better.

It took a further eight months to become free of those accursed dreams of being with Potter, kissing Potter, marrying Potter, HAVING POTTER'S BABIES and afterwards he never worked out where these perverse visions came from?
He had a very mediocre academic career at Durmstrang's and left England for good after he graduated. The humiliation of bumping into any of his former Hogwart's schoolmates coloring his choice. His going bald at twenty didn't help matters - he put that down to stress of his father being chucked in Azkban and losing more than three quarters of Malfoy fortune to fines. Living in Austria he found some success as an exotic potions and powders trader. He never had any desire to marry, as any sexual contact with others made him picture Potter's face as they were in throws of passion. Those green eyes filled with potent lust! Eeep! And of course those visions were worse when he COULDN'T see Potter's face.

Voldemort's feeble attempt to return in 2041 was crushed by The Order of the Eternal Phoenix and Dumbledore's Legacy muggleborn group's Horcrux neutralizers. Harry Potter's soul fragment having been removed years earlier at St. Mungo's under supervision of Hermione Granger-Weasley and her daughter Rose Longbottom.
Harry frying the so called Dark Lord with a Muggle thermal lance was a final insult to Tom. As he turned it on Riddle's limbless body, it was rumoured the screams could be heard from outside the Shrieking Shack to other side of Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy passed away from a particularly nasty strain of dragon pox in his ninety third year. Bald, wrinkled, bent and with sunken features, his remains could've been mistaken for a very tall house elf. Only two extremely distant relatives attended his funeral, and then that was mainly to see if he'd left any gold. It was not to be, as what little he owned was eaten up by providing him with medical care in those last few years.

(Fred and George's replacement of Draco's haircream with one of their more potent products was never detected. They smirked for weeks when the blonde ferret unknowingly packed up two full tubs when he left for Durmstrang!
It was only revealed in 2136 at reading of the late Fred's will. Their nine hundred relatives and friends filling the Brighton & Hove Quidditch stadium pissed themselves laughing for almost an hour! Harry had to be taken to New St. Mungo's for the strain on his elderly chest, but recovered in a couple of days. For generations to come wizards, witch's & even muggles would go out of their way to taunt a large portrait of Lucius and his son, which still hung in a quite corner of the Ministry atrium. Icing on cake of this would often be portrait Draco hurling insults back or breaking down in hysterical sobbing - which incited portrait Lucius to smack him across the back of the head!) —:—