8 Works by avenielle
Listing Works
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Summary
“It was never romantic,” he whispered, even though it sounded like he barely believed it himself. “I swear to god, Abby. It was never like that.”
“How the fuck,” she hissed. “Is ‘come over, I need you’ not romantic?”
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Mel King was a creature of habit.
There was a specific sort of choreography to her life beyond the chaos of the Emergency Department. A carefully controlled routine, a color-coded calendar, a rigid set of rituals that kept her grounded enough to keep showing up day after day, to keep on doing the work that was required of her to save lives.
Everything was going fine for Mel. Her personal life was predictable, unexciting, and perfectly fulfilling, thank you very much.
Enter Frank Langdon, agent of chaos.
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Draco had a problem.
It was a Hermione Granger-shaped problem. It walked like Hermione Granger, it talked like Hermione Granger, and (when he was lucky), it chewed him out like Hermione Granger.
But he knew, deep down, that it wasn’t Hermione Granger.
Because there was no way on God’s green earth that Hermione Granger had those fucking tits.
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“Christ,” Robby muttered under his breath, scrubbing his face with his palm.
“The ER can be a very bright and noisy place, Robby!” Langdon argued, like he was reciting the words from a script.
“Yes, I understand that, Langdon,” Robby replied calmly, trying to stay even-tempered. “But you can’t just go around profiling our patients as neurodivergent.”
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It was probably a good thing that no one assumed that Mel and Frank could possibly be dating. They had agreed to keep it a secret, after all.
But, come on. Not one rumor? Really?
It was starting to piss Frank off.
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They were friends.
And yeah, maybe the ring on his finger sort of burned when he looked at her sometimes, even though it was just for show, now.
It was just easier to let her keep thinking he was still married to Abby. Safer.
It raised less eyebrows about the nature of their friendship when the ring stayed on while he was at work, the weight on his finger reminding him not to say or do anything stupid.
It also made it a little less creepy when the pet names started slipping out.
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Summary
On the morning of the second task in the Triwizard tournament, Draco Malfoy sits alone in the Slytherin common room, enjoying the solitude and basking in the cool green glow of the windows.
It’s important to point out that he is, in fact, alone, because it explains why no one else is there to see the body.
Hermione Granger’s body. Chained to a rock and floating at the bottom of the Black Lake.
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Summary
Hermione Granger has bigger things to worry about than Draco Malfoy.
She's overworked and underpaid; she’s juggling newly un-Obliviated parents, rapidly dwindling romantic prospects, and unfathomable mountains of medical debt.
But when Malfoy begins to disappear on Sunday mornings, returning in muggle clothes, smelling faintly of candle smoke, Hermione just can't seem to convince herself that it's none of her business.