talus18
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There was a ghost at her door. It was the only explanation for the man standing there.
“Hi Granger. Care to invite me in?”
A boggart, perhaps. Because quite frankly, there was no other explanation for how Draco Malfoy had appeared at her doorstep, two years after he went missing.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Hermione said flatly.
“Ah,” he said. It was a soft, contemplative sound. “Well, I am here. And I came so very far to find you. Invite me in, if you please.”
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Sometimes, the only thing you need is a creature of the night.
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But, as the weeks bled into months, Hermione began to understand Draco Malfoy. Perhaps better than herself.
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How a year long potion partnership sets into motion something neither of them see coming.
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“No one can find out,” she murmurs, breath ghosting along his skin. “This is a horrible idea.”
Draco tightens his grip on her waist, reflexive. “No one has to know.”
He doesn’t take the time to analyze the effect her words have on him. Not when he’s got a leg pressed between hers and she’s grinding against his thigh. Her words, her shame—they don’t matter.
What matters is this: whenever he gets close enough to Hermione Granger, the ringing in his head stops. He can breathe again, if only for a moment. He knows better than to imbibe, his mother’s voice telling him to never indulge in the riches of the Seelie Court, but he can’t help it.
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“What do you want, then? I have to cover the sick ward on the second floor.”
Malfoy put his hands in his pockets. “DMLE is pulling you from the floor for a bit. I’ve come to bring you straight to Robards.”
Hermione’s nostrils flared. “He can’t just do that! I have patients and responsibilities here that I can’t just leave on his whim.”
“I’m just following orders. Better me than McLaggen, yeah? At least I’m nice to look at.”
Hermione crossed her arms. “You can’t make me go. Robards isn’t my boss and I’ve done nothing illegal to require an Auror escort. If he wants to see me so badly, he can schedule a meeting like a normal human being.”
“I have a summons,” Malfoy said. He pulled a piece of parchment from the pocket of his dress robes. The seal of the Office of the Minister of Magic stared back at her. She scowled.
“I hate your entire department.”
“Well, that’s just factually inaccurate, Granger. I have it on good authority that you happen to like me.”
[In which Hermione is brought in to assist the DMLE and her current FWB, Draco, with a peculiar outbreak of dragon-pox] COMPLETE
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That one-night stand with Draco Malfoy was a mistake. Hermione doesn't make mistakes, or at least she isn't supposed to. She's working hard at her Ministry career, however frustrating and pointless her job may be, and she's also got to live up to everyone's expectations as Hogwarts's most famous Muggle-born and a top-tier War Hero. So, why is she still sleeping with Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater and infamous pureblood? And why isn't she certain that she wants to stop?
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The rasp in his voice sends her toes curling, the heat in her belly blooming brighter.“This is where you belong, isn’t it?”
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When Draco Malfoy shows up at the Burrow over the holidays, Hermione learns she has a decision to make.An art/ fic collab with eca.works / rai_tovk. WARNING: NSFW art inside.
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- 3,459
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Bookmarked by talus18
04 Dec 2021
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The war is over and Hermione Granger is haunted by loss. She spends her days going through the motions, following routines to keep it together. The sounds of her neighbor's nightly piano playing slowly stitches her broken heart back together. When she musters up the last of her Gryffindor courage to thank them, a familiar face opens the door.
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As she looked around her living room - at the green velvet ottoman she didn't remember purchasing, the 14th century Wizarding texts on her bookshelf, the hideous and obnoxiously ostentatious grandfather clock that could only belong to a Malfoy - she pictured the toothbrush next to hers on her bathroom counter, the old Slytherin quidditch jersey she regularly tripped over in her bedroom, and the mint chocolate chip ice cream in her freezer - a flavour she abhorred, but that a particular, pale, pointy faced aristocrat sat across from her had a tragic fondness for.
Her chest burning, as if she drank a barrel of bubotuber pus, Hermione turned to him with narrowed, accusing eyes. "Malfoy...are we dating?"
If there's one thing Hermione Granger knows, it's that she simply doesn't have time to date. Draco decides to date her, anyway.
Series
- Part 1 of Grandfather Clocks and Ginger Biscuits
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How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger.
The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence.
Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore?Series
- Part 1 of Spectrum
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- English
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- 312,286
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Bookmarked by talus18
12 May 2021