radars_teddy
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Summary
Hermione Granger expected a quiet autumn escape at a countryside inn—a chance to rest, to breathe, to forget the weight of her world for a little while. What she didn’t expect was to find Draco Malfoy there, just as restless, just as untethered, and far too handsome beneath the lanternlight of the village harvest festival.
As lanterns rise and cider flows, old rivals find themselves drawn together by warmth, laughter, and something neither of them can deny. In the glow of autumn, they discover that sometimes the most unexpected encounters carry the kind of magic that feels a lot like home.
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This one-shot came purely from the Song - Marry Me by Thomas Rhett
I am so sorry X3, It hurts me a bit too so like good luck, maybe have a tissue nearby, IDK.
If you haven't watched the music video for the song I recommend it. -
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“Hermione Granger. I promise you, he is flirting with you.”
“And I'm positive, Ginny Weasley, that he's not.”
“Yes, he is.”
“No. He isn't.”
“And I swear to all that it is magical that he is.”
“And I'm telling you he isn't.”
“And I'm telling you he is.”
Hermione huffed frustratedly at Ginny’s stubbornness. “He's not,” she stated emphatically. “That's just how he normally acts.”
“Oh my god.” Ginny gasped at her in disbelief, her mouth agape over Hermione's naive dismissal. “You’re telling me he’s always been flirting with you?!”
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In need of a hard to find potion ingredient, Hermione luckily comes across a new apothecary that just might have what she needs. Now, if only someone could come actually help her when she rang for service....
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COMPLETE
Hermione's had her fair share of first dates, false starts, and fizzled romances. She’s doing great at St. Mungo’s, but the whole "coming home to an empty flat" thing is wearing thin. Then Draco Malfoy — recently returned from France, surprisingly charming, and irritatingly attractive — asks her out. And she says yes.
What starts as one nervous, hopeful dinner in Hermione’s flat turns into something that feels suspiciously like the start of forever. Fast emotional burn, slow physical burn, lots of fluff, healing, and a quietly swoony Draco who might’ve moved countries just to be near her.
Because maybe this time… it’s the electric touch that finally sticks.
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“It’s just coffee. And a few notes.”
“Exactly. Who gives gifts anonymously for weeks—”
“A few months now,” Hermione mumbles.
“—for months to a friend?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
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Or, Draco really has trouble talking to Hermione.