#past ron/hermione | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascaloverx · 5 days

Text

To Begin Again

ONE

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic.

To flee is easier than to face your problems, than to confront the demons you left behind long ago. And your life has become an eternal escape. Not only moving from place to place, teaching from school to school, you were living a temporary life each time. Until one day, a letter arrived, yes, a letter for you from London. It said that you were invited to teach temporarily at Hogwarts Academy. Dumbledore needed you. He was a great friend of your father. They even taught at the same time, but when you were born, your father and mother decided to move to the United States for some undisclosed reason. But Dumbledore's letter comes to you as a good excuse to cover your tracks. Restart.

"What a piece of crap. My cell phone is out of battery and I'm lost in the middle of nowhere." You mumble to yourself. No one is listening anyway. A beautiful full moon night is in front of you, lighting your way. Hogwarts, despite being influential, seems to be located in the middle of nowhere. You jump back when you hear a loud howl. Are there wolves near a school? Isn't that dangerous?

You look at your phone wishing there was some battery left so you could call someone. Noticing that it might be dangerous, you walk towards what you think might be the path. One step hurriedly each time. But the howls get closer and closer. Until you see a sign saying that Hogwarts is nearby. But as soon as you look ahead you see a dog. I mean, something similar to a dog but bigger. Or will it be a very hairy man?

"Leave or I'll throw my suitcase at you. Whatever you are." You say threatening the furry creature with your suitcase. The creature seems to stare at you, but not understand you. At that moment you laugh at your foolishness. Now who in their right mind would try to reason with a creature that doesn't seem to reason?

"Listen, I don't want to hurt you. I'm against animal abuse and I've participated in campaigns to rescue many from the streets. But if you come any closer, I won't have any other choice." You speak and while the canine creature or something looks like it's ready to attack you. When the creature gets a little closer, you throw your suitcase at it. With all the strength and aim possible. And then you run. Run as fast as possible, hitting some trees along the way but maintaining your speed. You hear the creature's grunts of pain. Then everything is silent, you rest a little. Your legs hurt, your arms are sore and bruised. And then you hear a long howl that alerts you that the creature is coming. And then you run again, as fast as you can.

"I can't believe I'm going to die here, like this." You mumble as you run. You're so distracted that you don't notice a stranger in front of you. Until you bump into him. Making you both fall.

"Fuck. Don't you watch where you're going?" The stranger speaks in a rude tone and you look at him in confusion.Isn't he noticing that you're running from death? Or is he not hearing the furry creature's noises?

"Shut up and follow me." You say, holding the stranger's hand and asking him to follow you. Why you helped him, you don't know. But you wouldn't be able to sleep with guilty conscience if he died. Strangely, he follows you a little further into the forest. But who designed a school that has a forest with ferocious animals on the loose?

"Come here." The stranger pulls you close to a hiding place. Hideout that actually seems designed for this type of situation. It's a small hut covered in bushes. You think about saying something but the stranger covers your mouth and points outside. Your eyes follow the stranger's fingers and you observe the creature outside. From a distance this creature looks like something from another world, from a fantasy world. A werewolf better said. The creature sniffs for a while and then disappears into the forest.

"You saw that?" You ask the stranger who is currently adjusting his somewhat long, silky, and slightly wavy hair. Sweat is dripping down his forehead, but he seems fine. I mean, he's attractive. I mean, what the hell are you thinking?

"I did see it, still got the ability to see after some lunatic knocked me down out of nowhere. And you're welcome, by the way." The man says as he rummages through a closet. You look at him indignantly. What do you mean you should be grateful to him?

"Sorry to wake you up from that illusion you're in, but it's you who should be thanking me. That creature was about to attack both of us, and I pulled you to come with me. So, Prince Charming, get off your imaginary horse and thank me yourself." You respond proudly, starting to feel the pain of the bruises you accumulated along the way.

"If that's how you feel, would you prefer to go out into the forest right now and try your luck?" The man says mockingly, and you glare at him angrily. What an idiot.

"Look, I'm new around here, and I don't want to sound presumptuous, but you seem like a jerk. But unlike you, I'm going to appreciate your help. Thank you for helping me escape from the big hairy creature out there. Satisfied?" You say, swallowing your pride, and then you extend your hand to the stranger. He gives a smirk, almost charming. What a jerk.

"Very satisfied. But now that we're here, would you mind telling me your name? I find it strange to spend the night with someone whose name I don't even know." The man says, sitting on the wooden chair next to you. You, who are sitting in an armchair, look at him, feeling strange about the idea of spending the night together.

"My name is Y/N. And yours?" You speak to avoid seeming rude, but the truth is, you want to know the reason why you'll have to spend the night together.

"Sirius. Sirius Black." He pauses before continuing, "And before you wonder, we have to spend the night here because it's still out there. But don't worry, as soon as dawn breaks, I'll take you to Hogwarts." Sirius speaks, squeezing your hand firmly. You shake hands, and he looks at you as if trying to unravel all your secrets.

"How do you know I want to go to Hogwarts?" You ask, and he smiles as if he finds it amusing.

"Let's just say I have a good sixth sense. Now, I suggest you rest. Tomorrow will be quite a day for you." Sirius says, handing you a pillow and a blanket. You thank him softly as you watch him grab another pillow and lie down on the floor. It looks uncomfortable, but you're too tired to be polite and offer to sleep on the floor instead.

"Hey, Sirius. Thank you so much for today. I might not be alive without you." You say sweetly and sleepily as you settle into the armchair. Sirius lifts his head and looks in your direction. Wow, he's handsome.

"I echo your words. The only difference is that I'd be alive with or without you. But I'm grateful for the company. It tends to be pretty boring around here." Sirius replies before turning over to sleep. You try not to dwell too much on what he said and then let sleep finally take hold of you. When morning comes, Sirius seems a bit more grumpy than before. You deduce that he might not be a morning person. You both leave the cabin early and walk for a while towards Hogwarts. The journey feels almost endless, but when you finally arrive, you're dazzled. The beauty of the architecture almost makes it worth almost dying to get in here.

"Well, princess, you're delivered. I won't be able to come in with you because I need to go check on something, but I'm sure we'll see each other again soon. Until then, take care. I won't always be here to save you." Sirius says, kissing the palm of your hand before leaving without giving you a chance to respond. You find him presumptuous but decide to move on.

Walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, you observe children playing from side to side. A boy with glasses and dark hair is hitting another boy with white hair on the ground, which startles you. You immediately run towards them. As you approach, you manage to separate the two, pulling the dark-haired one off the light-haired one. They both seem a bit bruised, and as you separate them, you realize that the effort has caused you significant pain in your back.

"You shouldn't be fighting. At least I think so." You say with some difficulty as you feel the pain growing. It's strange that despite the dark-haired one being the aggressor, he seems to take you more seriously. Meanwhile, the light-haired one is smiling mockingly with his arms crossed.

"And who are you to say anything?" Asks the child, around eleven or twelve years old, with a bruised face but intact hair. He's the one with the light hair.

"You must be thick, Malfoy, if you didn't notice that she must be our new teacher. Or maybe I hit you too hard." The dark-haired boy responds, already angry again. He seems both fearless and temperamental.

"Stop. Both of you! I don't want to hear insults or nonsense in my presence. You, with the white hair, I am your new teacher, so I suggest you change your tone when speaking. And you, with the dark hair, violence is not a solution to anything, not even insolence. Both of you, go far away from each other and think about how to be better." You speak calmly but very seriously. Despite their reluctance, both boys stop fighting and move on.

You feel the pain in your back get worse and walk to the first place you see an adult. Until you find a room, which seems almost abandoned. There is no one inside. You observe the room that has some old books scattered around and appears to be someone's room.

"Can I help you?" A male voice speaks from behind you. You turn around nervously thinking it's rude to enter someone else's room.

"I need help..." You were going to say more, but you were startled when you noticed a mark on the face of the man in front of you. You figured he must be in pain.

"There's no need to be afraid. I got involved in a mess last night and was a little injured." The man says getting closer and you feel like you're being rude.

"I'm sorry, I imagine it hurts. I'm sorry for my rudeness." You say, getting a little closer and looking deep into the man's eyes. Eyes you felt you've seen before.

"No need to apologize. It really hurts. My name is Remus and this is my room." Remus speaks as you watch him and before you can say anything, you simply pass out.

To be continued...

14 notes · View notes

sentinelpri · 1 year

Text

Of Pride & Conviction

Hermione Granger is beautiful.

It’s a fact that Draco Malfoy doesn’t mind admitting to himself. He didn’t mind admitting it to himself back then, either; back when they were in school together at Hogwarts. The real issue was getting him to say it out loud, which he never would. His pride held him back from doing the right thing, just like it always has. So, he was mean to her instead.

They’ve since graduated. It’s been about ten years. He still sees her regularly. She’s the Minister of Magic while he’s simply one of the aurors who serves her and the head auror, Harry Potter. It was admittedly worrying to have Hermione in charge of him at first, as it gave her ample opportunity to get revenge for all seven years of torment that he put her through, but for whatever reason, she chose to be merciful instead of taking advantage. Hermione treats Draco like any other employee of the Ministry of Magic. It shouldn’t bother him, but it does.

Then again, there’s a lot of things that bother him about Hermione that shouldn’t bother him at all. For example; the fact that she’s engaged to marry Ronald Weasley, or the fact that he tries his best to get her attention with his work every day, and most importantly, the fact that he’s been in love with her since their fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

There’s nothing he can do about it.

The two are stuck together in Hermione’s office, drafting some paperwork. Something about legislation to better the treatment of house elves… Or something. Draco doesn’t know. He hasn’t been paying enough attention to have any idea what’s going on. Hermione’s rambling, which he normally listens to rather intently when he gets to hear it, falls upon deaf ears. Hell, he doesn’t know why Hermione wanted his help in the first place, to be honest. He isn’t educated in legislation regarding magic, let alone house elves. He’s much less qualified than her to review such a matter. She should’ve picked Potter to be here, if anyone. But for some reason, he’s here instead.

Hermione’s office is about what you would expect. It’s clean and immaculate, a little bed for her cat in the corner and a large cage for her canary in the center of the room. While the orange cat she owns lies lazily in its bed, fast asleep, the bird is settled on a floating perch set up by the windowsill. The floors are made of dark wood and adorned with a gold and red rug, while the walls are painted crimson and lined with bookshelves that are stuffed to the brim with different magical texts. On Hermione's desk is a large lamp that bathes the room in an ambient warmth, as well as a framed picture of her, Weasley, and Potter.

“So, what do you think?” Hermione asks, snapping the auror out of his daze.

Draco blinks.

“I, erm,” Draco catches himself before he can stammer too much, clearing his throat. He knows that Hermione is intelligent enough to see through his facades, but he makes an attempt regardless, lest he have to admit that he wasn’t listening to a thing she was saying. “I think it sounds good.”

“You weren’t listening to me at all, were you?” The brunette sighs and shoots him an exhausted glance.

Her big brown eyes pierce straight through him. Draco shifts uncomfortably where he stands by her desk. There’s a chair across from hers, but he’s never been comfortable enough in Hermione’s presence to sit with her in her office like they’re equals. They’re most certainly not, and it’s something he has to remind himself of frequently.

“I was not,” He confesses, steely eyes avoiding her coffee brown ones like they’re the plague. The first thing that catches his attention is her hands, which are intertwined with each other. Her elbows are resting on the desk. Something looks different, though, and he spends a few seconds trying to figure it out before it finally clicks. Hermione isn’t wearing the gold band with the large ruby stone that Weasley proposed to her with. Her engagement ring is gone, nowhere to be seen. Draco hopes that they’ve ended things, but he suspects that she’s not wearing it for a different reason. Perhaps she needed to get it resized or altered somehow, or maybe she decided not to wear it to work anymore in fear of it getting damaged. Hermione and Weasley have been together for more than a decade. There’s no way that they broke up… Right? “You’re not wearing your ring.”

“Well, Malfoy, I’m not engaged anymore. If I’m not engaged, I don’t need to be walking around wearing an engagement ring, now do I? I’d hate to give anyone the wrong idea,” The brunette says with a tight smile and a matter-of-fact tone. Draco’s heart drops and he’s not sure why. Hermione being single is an opportunity he’s fantasized about for a long time. Now that it’s happening, however, he’s struck with a pang of unshakable guilt. No wonder Hermione appears so exhausted; no wonder she’s asked for his help today. She probably figured he’d be the one person who wouldn’t care to ask about her personal life, as his romantic feelings have been the one thing he’s successfully hidden from her over the years. “Now, let’s start again. This law will require anyone who owns a house elf to only have them work a maximum of ten hours a day each day for five days a week and to pay them a minimum of two galleons per hour. House elves will be given a system where they can report any violations through aurors that will visit them once a week and ask them about their working conditions, and anyone who has a house elf that isn’t following these guidelines will have their privileges revoked if they’re found to be in violation more than twice.”

“I don’t think the board will pass that,” Draco sighs, though his mind is as far away as possible from house elf rights. His mind is on Hermione, who looks pale and tired and a little lighter than before- whose soft red dress is unusually wrinkled, whose hair appears unwashed and even more unkempt than usual. “People have been using house elves for centuries and no one is going to want that taken away or drastically changed. You should start smaller; a maximum of twelve hours instead of ten, seven days a week, at a galleon per hour.”

“That’s not-”

“I know, it’s not fair,” Draco cuts the minister off and rests a palm flat on the desk. He takes in a sharp breath through his nose. The room reeks of alpine and butterbeer, no doubt from the lit candles that line Hermione’s office shelves. “No one except for you cares about whether or not things are fair, Granger. Not everyone is as morally righteous as you. I guarantee you that ninety nine percent of the population doesn’t give a damn about house elves.”

“You-”

“I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just telling you that’s the truth. You can’t get everything you want all at once. Pass the altered version, then once that’s settled, give it some time and alter the law to make it however you want. People need time to adjust, and compromise is imperative.”

“Fine, I’ll amend it,” Hermione relents and casts a spell to erase the written words on the paper. Draco watches her start to rewrite them with steel grey eyes full of confusion and uncertainty. She doesn’t look okay. Why the hell is she working if she’s just gone through a break up with Weasley, her boyfriend of over a decade and close friend of nearly twenty years? “Thank you for your input.”

“Granger… Are you-?”

“Don’t,” Hermione insists with a pained look and a shake of her head. She won’t even look in his direction, pretending to focus on the magic legislation even though she stopped writing a solid thirty seconds ago. She sets her pen down and holds her head in her hands. Draco wants to reach out, to take her into his arms and make it all better, but he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t want her to snap and push him away like he knows she should were he to do such a thing. So, Draco stands there, frozen, unable to remove his eyes from Hermione’s now-shaking form. “Have a pleasant rest of your day, Malfoy.”

“You as well.”

With that, Draco nods and excuses himself.

‘What a day…’

When Draco goes to Hog’s Head Inn in the middle of Hogsmeade later that evening, he’s surprised to see no other than Hermione herself, sitting at the counter with a cheap-looking glass of butterbeer clasped between her delicate hands. She’s still in the same wrinkled dress that she wore in her office even though it’s freezing cold and disgustingly dry outside. The dress appears to have no tights underneath and is a simple short-sleeved garment. Though the Minister of Magic looks gorgeous in everything, Draco’s worried about it not being weather appropriate.

Most of the time, were he to see Hermione in public, he wouldn’t talk to her. One, he doesn’t think he deserves her attention or her affections. Two, he knows- or at least strongly suspects- that she’s smart enough to avoid any relationship with him outside of work after everything he’s done to her. Three, and arguably the most important thing, he has no idea what to do or say and doesn’t want to make a fool out of himself in front of Hermione, whose opinion matters more to him than life itself. Tonight is different, though. Hermione appears to be struggling for once and now that Draco has developed a conscience, he wants to help if he can.

So, he makes the approach. He walks to the counter at the bar, sits in the stool right next to Hermione’s, and looks over at her.

The engagement ring is still gone.

She doesn’t spare him a glance.

He talks to her anyway.

“Granger, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I can’t say I was expecting to be here tonight either,” The brunette sighs and shakes her head, seemingly at herself. Then, after what feels like forever, she looks at him. “What do you want from me, Malfoy?”

“...I don’t know,” Draco shrugs, unsure of what he wants as well. It’s understandable that Hermione would be frustrated with him. Still, he can’t help feeling somewhat bitter about it. “I’ll leave if my approach is that much of a bother to you.”

Draco starts to stand up from the stool, only for Hermione to put a hand on his shoulder and interject. Her touch on his clothed skin practically makes him shatter into tiny little pieces on the bar floor.

“Wait, you can stay… If you don’t mind. I’ll even front you a drink. What would you like?”

“Hm,” Somewhat uncomfortably, Draco sits back down on the stool he was sitting in before. He struggles to keep his posture straight underneath the weight of his nagging anxiety about this whole Hermione thing. Lectures from his mother about how a ‘good Malfoy’ should sit up straight with their elbows off the table ring through his ears incessantly. “I suppose I’ll take a daisy root draught.”

“Very well,” Draco hums and dares to rest his elbows on the table. His eyes remain on Hermione, who awkwardly raises her hand to get the bartender’s attention so she can order for him. Draco isn’t sure how he feels about that. “One daisy root draught for this gentleman, please. Put it on my tab.”

“Thank you, Granger.”

“We’re not at work and we don’t despise each other anymore,” Hermione points out with a roll of her coffee brown eyes. Draco finds himself slouching a little. Apparently, even after all these years, Hermione has no issue calling him out. “Why do you still insist on addressing me by my surname?”

“It’s only fair,” Draco responds casually as the bartender serves him his daisy drought. He hadn’t thought about it before, but he figures calling Hermione by her last name is just another defense of his. If he keeps up all the walls of formality between them, she won’t be able to see his true feelings for her. “You address me by mine.”

“You’re not wrong,” Hermione sighs into her class of butterbeer and finishes it in one solid swig that makes Draco’s steely grey eyes widen.

The name thing bothers her more than Draco would’ve initially suspected. He can tell by the bright red dust that blooms like roses across her cheeks, by the downcast look she focuses on her empty drink.

“Hermione,” Draco murmurs between sips of his daisy root drought. It’s a little sweeter than he usually prefers it to be, but he doesn’t complain. “You may call me Draco.”

“Okay then, Draco. Are you happy?”

“Are you?” Draco asks with a quirked brow, more in reference to her mental state following whatever happened with Weasley than anything. The offended glance he receives as an answer has him backtracking quickly. “Ah, never mind.”

“I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?” Hermione’s voice wavers. She refuses to look at Draco any longer, simply standing, grabbing her brown purse, and slamming a handful of money on the table- more than enough to cover their tab and a decent tip. “I need you in my office again first thing in the morning.”

Briskly, Hermione walks away. Draco stands up so he can follow the witch and catch her by the wrist before she exits the building.

“Ah, wait, are you walking?” Draco asks and lets go.

Hermione looks back at the blond and answers.

“Well, yes. I’m not drunk, but I really prefer not to try and use magic when I’ve had even the slightest amount of alcohol.”

“It’s late,” Draco points out with his eyes flickering to the clock on the wall of the bar. It’s almost ten o’clock at night, and while Hermione is more than capable of taking care of herself, it’s freezing cold and there’s tons of people on the street. Draco doesn’t feel comfortable with her walking alone. “I’ll accompany you.”

“I don’t need that,” Hermione replies and exits the building with Draco following close behind.

“I know you don’t need it, per say, but I’m offering. Will you accept my offer or not? I don’t care either way,” He snaps even though he does care, a little impatient.

Hermione is just as prideful and just as stubborn as ever. Though unsurprising, it has the wizard disgruntled.

“I think you do care. I think you’d rather be with my company than without it, and I think you’re feigning indifference to protect yourself,” Hermione calls him out.

“Well, you’re thinking incorrectly and making baseless assumptions,” Draco tilts his nose up at the brunette as they start to walk in pace with each other, side by side, perhaps a little closer than two people who are merely co-workers should be.

“Is that any way to talk to your boss, Draco?” Hermione laughs, which has Draco looking at her with wide eyes. She’s never pulled rank on him like that. Before he can say anything, however, Hermione offers a dismissive wave and continues. “I’m just kidding. I’ll accept your offer.”

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”

“And I didn’t know you cared enough to walk me home.”

“It’s cold. For you to not wear another layer within your office is one thing, but it’s far too chilly out here for you to be in a short-sleeved dress and heels with nothing else,” Draco points out and shrugs his coat off of his shoulders. He’s cold, but he tries not to pay it any mind. He offers Hermione the heavy green garment. “Here. Take my coat.”

“I don’t need your coat. I feel just fine.”

“You won’t feel fine two days from now when you catch a cold, so take it. I’m not asking.”

“And what happens if I don’t meet your demand?”

“Nothing, really,” Draco responds, and to his surprise, Hermione takes his coat and slips it on over her body. It’s a little too big, but not ridiculously so, though it clashes with the dress she’s wearing quite horribly. He doesn’t mention that, instead furrowing his brows when Hermione suddenly stops in front of a home he doesn’t recognize. “Is this it? Did you move recently or- oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then…” Draco awkwardly trails off, standing just off the edge of Hermione’s porch. He watches her unlock her door. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Hermione.”

“You best.”

Draco turns, ready to go back to Malfoy Manor. Before he can get very far, however, he’s being grabbed by the wrist and whirled around. He’s chest to chest with no other than Hermione, who gently rests her hands on his face.

They’re close. Too close. Despite the panic that ensues from the Minister of Magic holding his face like he’s made of some sort of fragile glass, Draco has a moment of clarity. Hermione, even with her know-it-all, temperamental nature, is bright and warm like the sun. She is what inspired him to become a better person, to live a life beyond the death eaters and the dark mark- beyond the fact that he’s a Malfoy. Hermione is nothing less than enlightenment itself, and Draco could not be more enamored by her.

Obsessed with her.

In love with her.

Hermione’s touch melts the icy cold that has been nipping at his face since he left the bar at the same time that her lips adorn his with the taste of rich butterbeer. She’s kissing him. She’s kissing him in a way that’s soft and sweet, lips moving gently against his. Draco freezes initially. What if his breath is bad? What if his lips are too chapped? After a little too long, he decides he can’t throw this opportunity away. It’s fleeting. So, he wraps his arms around Hermione’s waist and tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Then, as fast as it starts, it ends. Hermione is pulling away and turning to go inside her home. Draco objects with an awkwardly outstretched hand. He wants to reach out for her desperately, to wrap his arms around her and pull her back.

“Wait, I-”

“Do you mind if I keep this for now?” Hermione questions in an unreadable, even tone that makes Draco think he might be going insane as she pulls at the coat on her small frame.

Did the kiss even happen, or did he just imagine it?

He licks his lips to remind himself of the taste of butterbeer and honey chapstick.

It was definitely real. Hermione Granger kissed him and is now choosing to pretend that it didn’t happen. For now, Draco follows suit.

He blinks, then answers.

“Not at all.”

“Alright, then. Thank you,” Hermione nods and takes a step back. Draco’s outstretched arm falls to his side. “Goodnight, Draco.”

“Goodnight, Hermione…”

The next morning, just as he was instructed to, Draco shows up in Hermione’s office. He isn’t sure what to expect.

An apology? A love confession? A pink slip?

None of it happens. When he walks in, Hermione looks better than ever, almost as if she hasn’t both suffered a terrible break up with her best friend and partner of over a decade, moved houses, and kissed her former enemy within the span of one week. She’s dressed in a striped pantsuit with her hair tied up and her face full of energy again. It’s almost as if none of it happened- the break up, the bar, Draco. If Draco hadn’t worked so hard to burn the image of what occurred between them last night into his occipital lobe, he would swear the whole thing was a dream based on the way Hermione is treating him- so nonchalant, almost as if it didn’t happen.

She dares to smile and invite Draco to sit across from her, but he doesn’t. He does what he’s used to and stands across from the Minister of Magic, twiddling with his thumbs.

“So, today I need your help with-” Hermione starts, to which Draco cuts her off by placing his hands on the front of her desk and speaking.

“Are we not going to talk about what happened last night?” Draco demands.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione ignores his question and continues what she was trying to say before Draco interrupted.

“-this proposal I’m working on for the board of magic-”

Draco debates whether or not he should allow this to continue. On one hand, Hermione seems pretty determined not to talk about the kiss. On the other hand, Draco can be determined, too, and after a sleepless night resulting from what happened between the two of them, he’s determined to get to the bottom of this.

“Seriously, Granger- Hermione-”

“-for a new policy that will-”

“You kissed me,” Draco finally raises his voice- loud enough to make Hermione finally look him in the eye but not loud enough for anyone outside of her office to hear him. “Why in Merlin’s name did you kiss me?”

Hermione’s eyes flicker to the floor, then back up to Draco’s face.

“Did it upset you?” She asks.

Draco blinks.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Did that offend you?”

“No, I’m just… Dumbfounded. Are we going to talk about this or not?”

“I suppose we can if it’s bothering you that much,” Hermione relents, then stands up from her chair so she can stand in front of Draco, just inches away.

“I have to ask this first, how long has it been since you and Ron separated? What even happened?”

“Six months,” Hermione states plainly, as if it doesn’t matter.

“Six months…!?” Draco manages to whisper out the words between the gasp that falls from between his lips.

Six months. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley have been broken up and separated for nine months, and somehow, Draco had no idea of that until now. For whatever reason, Hermione neglected to make it apparent until this week. Almost as if she’s reading his mind, Hermione explains.

“I’ve only made it known in the past couple weeks to anyone who wasn’t Harry or immediate family, so it’s understandable that you’re shocked, Draco, but as the Minister of Magic, I have a reputation to uphold. Breakups don’t look that great, so I was putting off the inevitable for as long as I could. Ron and I split mutually and amicably; he got the home we bought together, I took most of what was in our savings account since I’m the one who contributed the majority of it, and we went our separate ways.”

“But- but why? Everyone always said that you two were perfect-” Draco argues, to which Hermione interrupts once again.

“Well, we weren’t. He apparently needs someone less bossy, less stubborn… Less powerful,” Hermione murmurs. She leans back against the front of her desk and taps her fingers against the wooden surface. “And I need someone who can take care of my needs and listen to what I have to say without whining about it. We should’ve stayed friends, to be honest. I don’t have any ill will towards Ron, and he will always be a good friend, but we weren’t ever meant to be anything more than that.”

Draco doesn’t know what to say. He wanted to talk about the kiss initially. Now, he’s getting information about Hermione’s break up, too. Though he’s the one who asked about it in the first place, it’s proving to be overwhelming. He doesn’t know much about Ron or about their relationship struggles. Really, it’s not his business. He knows he shouldn’t ask anything else, but he doesn’t want to just stand there silently either.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then-

“I don’t know why I kissed you.”

Draco pauses. He isn’t sure of how to respond. He opens his mouth to speak, only for nothing to come out until he forces two words off of his tongue.

“You don’t?”

“Well, I suppose I do, logically. Part of me has always had a spark for you, and I think you feel the same way- you kissed me back, after all,” Hermione starts to ramble. “But back then, I couldn’t say anything. You were my childhood bully, it would’ve been humiliating to put my pride aside and tell you the truth, only to get rejected and made fun of. I didn’t think I had real feelings for you, anyway, I just assumed that I was so enthralled by you because you were forbidden and exciting, but even after all these years… I thought that the friendship Ron and I had was true, romantic love. I thought that you would never amount to more than a fling, even if I did act on the feelings I harbored for you. Somehow, though, with all this time that’s passed, Ron and I have fallen apart, and my feelings for you have only grown stronger.”

“So, you love me… And you’ve loved me for years,” Draco slowly talks as he puts the rest of the piece of this complicated puzzle together. Meanwhile, Hermione nervously paces around the office, walking circles around Draco. “And that’s why you kissed me last night.”

“I suppose that would be the case, yes.”

“I’m not just a rebound for Weasley?”

Hermione firmly shakes her head with a furrowed brow.

“Absolutely not.”

“Do you really not hate me?” Draco asks, just to be sure.

Hermione stops pacing to look Draco in the eye and shake her head once more.

“I don’t.”

“After everything I did to you, I don’t deserve your love. You should hate me,” Draco reminds her.

“I know, but I don’t.”

Admittedly, Draco is insecure, untrusting, and terrified. He expects to wake up from this dream any moment now. He expects for Hermione to laugh in his face and tell him that this is some sort of cruel scheme she’s concocted to get revenge for everything he did to her back when they were in school, that she never loved or even liked him, that she’s still engaged to Ron and doesn’t plan on changing that any time soon. He expects Hermione to get scared, change her mind about all of this, fire him, and demand that he never speak to her again.

After all these years, Draco still expects Hermione to loathe him. Yet, she doesn’t.

“Would you not be embarrassed to be seen with me? Draco Malfoy, the vain, cruel, narcissistic, death eater, trust fund baby?”

“No, I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with Draco Malfoy, who has changed quite a bit since he attended Hogwarts,” Hermione answers in a very matter-of-fact tone without so much as skipping a beat.

Draco gulps.

“Very well, then.”

“What does this mean for us?”

“As if I have any idea?”

“You seem much more sure of yourself in this situation than I am,” Hermione huffs and moves to sit on the front of her desk.

Draco, daring to be bold, takes a few steps forward and slowly takes Hermione’s hands in his. She doesn’t object- rather, she intertwines their fingers. Both of them stare at their locked hands, then at each other’s faces.

“Hermione, I don’t think you understand. I’m falling apart from the inside out right now at this- this idea that you could love me, that to you, I’m somehow lovable after everything I’ve done.”

“As prideful as you are, I thought you’d have more confidence in yourself,” Hermione says with a small chuckle.

“The pride is a shield. You know what that’s like, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then let’s stop pretending.”

“Let’s.”

Draco lets out a sigh of relief. All of this- the kiss, today’s discussion, their laced fingers- it’s proof that this is very much real and that Hermione is genuine in these feelings that she has for him. He has so many more questions to ask, so much he wants to know.

“Is that why you’ve been calling me in here to help you with paperwork? Because you have feelings for me?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you worried about what people will think about you having moved on within weeks of making your break up known?”

“Of course. Just not worried enough, you might argue.”

“Certainly.”

“Where do we stand, then?” Hermione stares up at him, her coffee brown eyes burning into his steely grey.

“I think we should take things slow and keep this private considering your circumstances, but… Would it be wrong of me to say we’re officially dating now? Or is that too fast?”

Hermione just smiles.

“Not at all.”

Then, she’s kissing him again. This time around, it’s much warmer. Draco immediately allows himself to lean into it, whatever worries he may have about this chased away by Hermione’s lips molding into his.

#harry potter #hp #hermione granger #draco malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #dramione #dramione fanfiction #oneshot #oneshots #drabble #drabbles #past hermione granger/ron weasley #don't @ me for writing harry potter i hate jkr i JUST like the worldbuilding/characters #this is not directly supporting jkr so if you don't like me writing it feel free to block/unfollow

80 notes · View notes

jomiddlemarch · 4 months

Text

The Black Widow

“I think I’ve been too hard on Blaise’s mum, all these years,” Hermione said, her shoulders slumped instead of maintaining her usual impeccable, McGonagall-inspired posture, her chin held in the hand that wasn’t curled around a cup of tea. It was actually a very fine cup of masala chai that Padma had made using the Patil family’s own karha recipe and Hermione had chosen it over a glass of Shiraz and the two fingers of bourbon that had also been offered and perhaps foolishly declined. She took a breath, tried to let the scent of the spices soothe her.

No dice.

“Maybe you’re, I don’t know, exaggerating a bit?” Padma said carefully.

“She means you’re being more dramatic than Celestina Warbeck and Sarah Bernhardt put together, darling,” Theo said. They were her two most rational friends, Theo a hatstall for Ravenclaw, Padma properly Sorted and also Second Wrangler for her year at Cambridge. It had made sense to come to them and not, say, Harry, who was pants at validation, or Ginny, who only ever wanted salacious details and sulked when Hermione wouldn’t share, or Luna, who might say something daft or something that was as sharply acute as an Unforgivable, with the additional burden of being Unforgettable, and who was also in Svalbard. It had made sense and yet now Hermione was considering she could have just gone to any wine-bar in Soho and gotten sloshed without any incisive commentary.

“Incisive, I like that,” Theo said as Hermione had evidently voiced that bit of her internal monologue aloud.

“I always said she must be a dreadful person and now I’m the dreadful person,” Hermione said. Was there a slight moaning quality to her tone? She had come seeking tea and sympathy. “I should have understood the cards were stacked against her and that she couldn’t fight the patriarchy of the Wizarding world by herself—”

“I’m not discounting the point about the patriarchy, but I don’t think you and Madame Zabini are much alike. Nor are your circumstances,” Padma said.

“She means you haven’t murdered any of your men,” Theo said, peering at Hermione through his glasses. “In case you were too addled to make out what she meant by circumstances. You’re still a Gryffindor, you often need things told to you point-blank. Or at wandpoint, but that seems unnecessary.”

“He’s right,” Padma said. “Though to be unfair, there’s no confirmation about several of Madame Zabini’s husbands’…demises. There was no body recovered for the last one and she’s always spoken fondly about Blaise’s father. She’s allowed to have some bad luck and there have been two wars—”

“Come off it, Padma, the witch is a bloody menace and even Riddle was scared of her. That’s why Blaise didn’t have to get the Dark Mark,” Theo said. “Tom was into Dark magic, but Madame Zabini knows the Old Ways.”

“Fine,” Padma said. “Still, Hermione, it’s not the same.”

“First of all, no one you’ve dated is dead,” Theo pointed out.

“Anthony said I was a life-ruiner,” Hermione replied.

“As if he had a life worth ruining, the tosser,” Theo said, scoffing. “So full of himself.”

“Ron got cursed at the Final Battle because he was trying to protect me,” Hermione said.

“He’s been getting free rounds of drinks off that injury for the past twenty-odd years,” Padma said. “If he’d listened to anyone, he could have had it repaired at St. Mungo’s that first week instead of relying on a field dressing by a fifth year Hufflepuff. He’s only still got the limp and the scar because he waited and then it was permanent.”

“Bill said that too,” Hermione admitted.

“And just because Viktor Krum hasn’t been heard of in about nine years, that’s nothing to do with you,” Theo said. “I know you’ll mention that last letter of his, where he wrote about Ioanna and her amber halo, but really, that could mean any number of things. And also, again, not confirmed dead and not at your hand.”

“McLaggen had it coming to him,” Padma said and sniffed. “You were helping out all female-presenting creatures and beings when you hexed him.”

“I don’t feel that bad about him,” Hermione said.

“Good. That’s progress, love,” Theo said. “You’re not still counting Snape, are you?”

“I mean, I let him die, Theo. I was right there—”

“You had a crush on him during sixth year but I don’t see how he counts as one of you men. I think he would rather have died again, more gruesomely, as Nagini kibble, than have a relationship with any student, let alone a Gryffindor like yourself,” Theo said.

“You couldn’t have saved him,” Padma said more softly. “You were with him when he went, his portrait said as much. He doesn’t bear you any ill-will. Quite the contrary, I think he’s a bit fond of you now, though he’d say this was a bunch of bloody sentimental shite. And probably take one hundred points from Gryffindor and call you a silly cow.”

“Death has not softened him up much, has it?” Theo said. “Good old Snape. Or Bad old Snape. Whichever. That was his thing, double-agent, et cetera, wasn’t it? But he’d never see himself as one of your victims.”

“I appreciate you are both trying to cheer me up,” Hermione said. She took a gulp of the chai, which was at the perfect temperature, because Padma had used the good Charmed china.

“We are trying to reason with you, brightest witch of our age,” Theo said.

“Neville—” Hermione said, breaking off.

There was a moment of silence, respectful, sincere, thoughtful. Sort of like Neville had turned out to be, besides being the Prophecy’s spare, the slayer of Nagini, champion wearer of Fair Isle jerseys and well-worn cords, strider of moors, Sprout’s successor. Hermione’s former almost-fiancé.

“It never would have worked out,” Padma said.

“I know. I just loved him so much, he was so dear,” Hermione said. “When he proposed, it was like a dream—”

“He fell in a bog and broke both his legs,” Theo said. “Again, Not Dead. Perhaps terminally embarrassed, especially since he lost the ring in the bog and now the bog kassapu won’t give it back and Madame Longbottom is furious—”

“His gran didn’t mind that much,” Hermione said. “But she did say it was a sign. And that because Neville broke his legs in an enchanted bog, it wasn’t something St. Mungo’s could heal up easily and I wasn’t to think twice about refusing the offer. Neville said the same thing.”

“I suppose you could wait for him,” Padma said. “You are a witch. Another couple of decades—”

“We agreed it was for the best, ending it. We’ll stay friends, close friends, but he saw what was happening,” Hermione said. She’d often been told, dismissively by Slytherins, that one could read her face like a book; at the moment, it must be a torrid, fraught romance, albeit one without any ripped bodices or irascible, secretly wounded dukes.

“It’s not like you and Draco planned to meet at St. Mungo’s,” Theo said. “It’s not like you orchestrated it for him to be on-call when you and Neville arrived and for him to be the one who sat up with you the whole night while the other Healers stabilized Nev. It’s not like you tried to fall in love with each other, former rivals and adversaries who had more in common than they’d admit until they couldn’t any more, wouldn’t—”

“Even though the rest of us could see it coming from a mile away. Years before. Since that first night at the pub,” Padma said. “Harry saw it. George Weasley’s had a bet going since you went to the loo that night, the pot could buy a lovely holiday villa in the Algarve by now. Minerva—”

“You call her Minerva now?” Theo whistled. “I thought that was reserved for the brightest witch here.”

“I advise some of the more gifted Arithmancy students who are beyond Vector’s skills,” Padma said. “Hermione might have done, but she had that Potions torch to carry and then Bill roped her into the side-gig at Gringott’s. Minerva told me she didn’t want to be called Professor by a colleague, certainly not one who made a better pot of tea than she did.”

“She said that?” Hermione exclaimed.

“I made the masala chai. She’s not stupid,” Padma said. “She said she’d wondered about you and Draco since the Yule Ball and that if Dumbledore had simply managed the Voldemort situation better, we could all have spent our Hogwarts years waiting to see if the two of you would get together.”

“Oh my,” Theo said, laughing. Hermione made a face, scrunching up her nose, then shoved back the hair that had come loose from the combs she’d used to pull it back.

“I guess the truth is, I’m afraid,” Hermione said. “I’m thirty-eight years old and I’ve never had a successful romantic relationship, they’ve all been unmitigated failures, well, maybe I get a pass on Neville, but otherwise it’s all been utter shite and I don’t want to mess anything up with Draco. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to be the Black widow and Walburga has been giving me the evil eye since she heard—”

“There it is,” Padma said.

“You cannot let that blasted portrait bother you,” Theo said. “Draco ought to be able to shut her up, heir to the House and all.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up. At least, you won’t do it by yourself. This is about you and Draco, what’s between you. What you make with how you care about each other,” Padma said. Theo nodded.

“And for the record, Draco has done a superlative job of keeping himself alive in situations that would have killed any lesser being. He survived Riddle as a houseguest. He survived Bellatrix changing his nappies. He survived Lucius finding out you’d beaten him in every class and Harry winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament,” Theo said. “You can’t take him out, darling girl, even if you try.”

“You should talk to him,” Padma said.

“I don’t know, he’ll think I’m being silly or that he has to take care of me,” Hermione said.

“You are being silly and he does have to take care of you,” Theo said. “So, yes, he’ll think that. But I am confident that he will express himself most eloquently on the topic.”

“How care you be so sure?” Hermione asked.

“Because this isn’t the first pot of masala chai I’ve made that one of you hasn’t drunk this week,” Padma said. “You’re the more secure of the two of you though—he went to Harry first.”

“And then to Millie,” Theo added. “She has not become more patient with age. It was a near-fatal error.”

Bonus image of my Madam Zabini fancast:

9 notes · View notes

thelashjedi · 1 year

Text

you’re safe with me

Dramione | Completed | 4.7K words

Also available on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43323165

As quietly as possibly, Hermione crept inside the library at Malfoy Manor. It was as good a place as any for to catch her metaphorical breath, before she’d need to plaster on a fake smile and rejoin the ball — to keep up appearances. Maybe she could find the book on the origins of arithmancy Draco mentioned the last time they were here? Hermione doubted she’d be back at the Manor any time soon, if ever. Not after this evening has gone exactly as she’d feared, To her great surprise, despite her fraught wartime history, the Manor had somehow become one of her favourite places in the world, with the exception of one permanently sealed drawing room. But alas, Malfoy Manor had once again become ground too dangerous for Hermione Granger to tread, though this time the reasons for it were vastly different.

Hermione idly fiddled with her beaded bag, wondering if the Malfoys would even notice if just one of their many books went missing for a bit. Probably not. She would return it later by owl, of course.

Making her way to her favourite spot in the back corner, Hermione was surprised to find Draco Malfoy collapsed in one of the wing-backed chairs, a hand wearily rubbing his eyes, the other gripped tightly around an empty glass, notes of firewhisky lingering in the air. He hadn’t noticed her.

Recovering as best she could in the circumstance, Hermione deliberately kept her voice light. “Malfoy? Why on Earth are you hiding in the library? This is your Engagement Ball. Shouldn’t you be out there accepting the fawning praise of the Sacred Twenty-Eight for doing your part to keep the Malfoy family tree as devoid of branches as possible?”

Her voice startled him, causing Draco to look momentarily panicked. Though he regained his customary smirk so quickly, perhaps it was only her imagination. Or a trick of the dim light.

“Ha, Granger. Very droll. As a point of clarification, this is my Betrothal Ball, nothing to do with an engagement. And secondly —“ Draco sighed deeply. “Fuck. I just need a break from it all, you know?”

Hermione blinked. She knew. After all, that’s precisely why she was here, but it was conveying to see Draco struggling when he ought to be celebrating the ostensibly happy news. “I do. And you’re safe with me, Auror Malfoy. As always.”

Her partner made a non-committal noise, as he put his empty glass on the side table. The reality of her presence caught up with him and his gaze sharpened. “Why are you here, Granger?”

Hermione laughed softly, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with him, full stop and she especially did not want to have it now. “Well, Ron’s not accepting the end of our relationship as well as I’d hoped. He’s out their hitting the champagne pretty hard, whilst making eyes at me. Seemed like a good idea to hide out for a bit.”

Technically, everything she’d said was true, but only to a point. It was Hermione’s own inability to stop staring at the future bride’s left hand that prompted her to seek refuge somewhere else. If Ron had been her only issue, she could have drawn on a wealth of experience to simply endure it. But being forced to confront the reality of a future where she would never get what — who — she wanted? That proved to be too much.

Draco snorted. “Really, Grange — the library? It’s your natural habitat. If you wanted to hide almost anywhere else in the Manor would be better than — wait. Did you say the end of your relationship?”

Briefly wondering how much firewhisky he’d had, Hermione plastered that bloody fake smile back on, responding in a falsely bright tone. “Um, yes. Ron and I broke up.”

It was Draco’s turn to blink. He sat silently for a moment, his thinking face — the one he adopted when they were working on a case together — firmly in place. Then he rose from his chair, standing before her, his eyes boring into her own. “When?”

Hermione tried — and bloody failed — to sound breezy. “Oh, late last month.”

Malfoy Heir to wed Miss Astoria Greengrass.

The headline in the Daily Prophet, accompanied by a photo of Draco next to a smiling, beautiful, perfect pureblood witch screamed at Hermione from the front page. She felt as though all the air left her flat, leaving her underwater, unable to her breathe as her carefully crafted illusions about her own feelings disappeared into the ether the very instant she realised she was too late. It was only then Hermione registered just how deeply she was in denial over the extent of feelings for the pale wizard who was definitely not just her co-worker, no matter how many times she’d angrily shouted at otherwise at Ron.

Draco’s expression was inscrutable as he studied her face. “Before or after my betrothal was announced?”

The question was so prescient Hermione did not have her features schooled enough to prevent her jaw from dropping a fraction. She made a hasty correction, though Draco’s narrowed eyes told her she wasn’t quick enough, blast him. “What? That’s not — Malfoy. That has nothing to do —”

“Granger.” Her name was an interruption and a plea.

Unable to pretend any longer, Hermione sighed. “After.”

“Why?” Draco asked in a pained whisper.

“Ron and I were never right for each other — okay? Not really. But when my close friend and partner getting engaged sent me into an emotional tailspin, it really didn’t seem fair to Ron to keep pretending otherwise. Not after assuring him for years I only admired you as a colleague, because we got along so well and we had such a good working relationship.” Keeping her gaze on her shoes, Hermione blinked back tears. “To be fair, I didn’t realise I was lying to him until it was too late.”

Draco’s bitter laugh prompted her to look up and she took in the stunned disbelief in his grey eyes, as well as the undercurrent of anger. Her heart broke just a little bit more.

Hermione swallowed. “I don’t find this particularly funny, Draco. And I think I should just go home.”

“Oh no you don’t, Granger. “ Draco grabbed her wrist, pulling her close as he pressed her hand over his heart, his eyes blazing into hers. “I only agreed to this damned betrothal because you were still bafflingly with that unworthy tosser and I couldn’t bear to continually hope you’d eventually see that he wasn’t right for you. That you’d eventually see me.”

Hermione blinked back tears, unsuccessfully trying to pull away from Draco’s grip, overwhelmed by his intensity and nearness. “I always saw you, Draco. But I never thought you’d see me as anything more than what we already were.” Unable to look at him, she used her free hands to point in the direction of the ballroom, where his betrothed was currently holding court and Draco flinched, dropping her hand. Summoning her resolve, Hermione spoke again, the words like ash on her tongue. “Given our inability to effectively communicate,I will be requesting to be transferred out of Magical Law Enforcement. The Unspeakables still try to recruit me a couple of times a year — I’ll see if I can move there.”

“No.” He looked stricken, his voice pa whisper as he shook his head.

Hermione’s voice broke. “Draco, working with you the past three years has been hard enough. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing it now.”

“You think it’s been hard for you? I’ve watched the only witch I’ve ever loved be with someone who takes her for granted, does not appreciate her and has the unmitigated gall to incessantly complain about her to me whenever I’ve been forced to speak with him.”

“Ron was likely trying to convince you I wasn’t a very good girlfriend because he was jealous of us — of our working relationship, I mean. We fought about it constantly, Malfoy.”

“And his way of coping was to try to diminish you at every opportunity?”

“Oh lay off of him, Malfoy! He’s not the one who spent the entire time being in love with someone else.”

Draco’s mouth was on hers before the last syllable left her lips, quickly swallowing her startled gasp. One hand cradled her chin as the other pulled her hips flush against his and Hermione whimpered, losing herself in the feel of his tongue gliding against hers as her body pressed into him. Her blood sang as she grabbed fistfuls of his robe, desperate to pull him closer still — the years of unspoken, mutual longing becoming thoroughly unmasked with the worst fucking timing. She stiffened, as she recalled why she was at the Manor in the first place.

As if hit with the same realisation, Draco abruptly let her go. She instantly stepped back — keeping more than an arm’s width away as they stared at each other, panting.

Draco spoke first, his words full of quiet desperation. “I can get out of it, Granger. If you’ll have me.”

Hermione’s heart clenched. “I feel really bad about that for her sake, but not so bad I’m willing for us both to be perpetually miserable over it. I was having a hard enough time when I thought it was just me. How badly will your parents react?”

As far as Hermione was concerned, this was an open question. Over the past few years, she’d become far closer to the Malfoys than she would’ve ever dreamed possible. Narcissa was quite fond of her, frequently insisting they take tea together — just the two of them as Draco was deliberately not invited. She ate dinner with the family once or twice a month. While it took longer for Lucius to come around on her, he had reluctantly admitted she was just as talented and capable as his son, even though it clearly pained him to say the words aloud. Hermione harboured secret affection for the still somewhat vainglorious older man— particularly after l realising he was too much like his son for her to ever truly dislike. But the elder Malfoys acceptance of her was in her role as Draco’s partner at the DMLE — a role where she frequently saved his life. There was an enormous gulf between accepting Muggle-born Hermione Granger as their son’s colleague or even close friend, and accepting Muggle-born Hermione Granger permanently into their family, particularly when such acceptance would ultimately end the Malfoy family’s status as a purebloods.

It had not been lost on Hermione that outwardly both of Draco’s parents appeared delighted at the prospect of Astoria Greengrass becoming the future Lady Malfoy — something that hurt Hermione more than she’d expected, even when she has no right to that pain.

“I do not fucking care.” Draco’s voice was iron. “And for what it’s worth, this is a love match for Astoria either. It’s a business arrangement made by our respective families. I’m not saying she’ll be happy about it. But I won’t be breaking anyone’s heart.”

Oh. That was a relief. Hermione chewed her lip. “How long?”

“Tomorrow — by the end of day. I’d do it tonight, but that seems unnecessarily cruel.”

“Right.” Hermione thought quickly, her mind still reeling from the kiss and the fact she’d just admitted out loud she loved him. Although assuming she hadn’t misheard, Draco technically declared his love first. “I’m going home and I will stay there for the rest of the weekend. My floo will be closed to everyone who isn’t you. If I don’t hear from you by Sunday, I will put in my transfer request at the Ministry on Monday morning.”

“You will hear from me, Granger. You have my word. I intend to tell my parents tonight.”

“Tell her first.” Hermione blurted out the words before she could stop herself, apprehension working its way up her spine.

Draco was nonplussed. “Why? Honestly, Granger, as I said the entire thing was arranged by our parents anyway. They’ll have to be involved.”

“Tell her first and have someone else you trust — like Theo — with you when you tell your parents.”

“Hermione, I don’t —“

Her fears overtook her and she cut him off. “Every time your parents have invited me to dinner over the past six months, Lucius has been unsubtle in telling me he expects you to wed soon. Then at the office, you’ve been telling me about how much they were pressuring you into accepting a betrothal arrangement that you said you didn’t want. I’m not accusing him of anything, truly — but while I can most likely live with you deciding to proceed with your existing betrothal, not without some assurance it was your decision in truth.”

Draco’s eyes went wide as he grasped her meaning. “Point taken. I don’t think Father would do that, Granger. But I also don’t feel certain enough to say he’d never do it. So some precautions wouldn’t hurt. I’ll speak with Theo before he leaves tonight.” Draco tucked a curl behind her ear as he spoke, before leaning forward — clearly intent on kissing her again, stopping when he felt her hand pushing him back.

“Draco, I feel enough guilt over the earlier admittedly bloody amazing kiss, especially seeing how your Betrothal Ball is still on-going as we speak. To say nothing of how bad I feel about the emotional affair I didn’t quite realise I was having while still with Ron.”

Hermione had already been tempted to beg him to shag her against the bookshelves during visits to this part of the library. And that was while she was still trying to convince herself constantly thinking about the wizard before her was merely an idle fantasy that wasn’t hurting anyone. She had no confidence in her ability to resist sharing that desire if he kissed her like that again. “I’m going to leave now, before I do more things I regret. But I expect I to see you soon, Malfoy.”

“You will, Granger. I promise.”

Seized by hope and terror in equal measure, Hermione nodded, managing a small smile before apparating out of the Manor and into her tiny, darkened flat. Only then did she allow the floodgates to open, sliding to the floor as she wept, not even attempting to sort out which of her tangled emotions prompted the tears.

——————————————————————————————

When her floo roared to life the next evening, Hermione’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. Instinctively hiding her chewed nails, she frantically tamped down the blossoming surge of hope inside her before she has unambiguous confirmation from Draco. What if he was only coming over to let her know in person that he’d reconsidered?

So when Draco strode directly towards her from the fireplace and kissed as intensely as he had the night before, her soul cried out in relief. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, frantically pulling him, needing him as close as possible.

After a long moment, he pulled back to look at her, palpable relief etched across Draco’s own features as he stroked her back. Seemed as though he’d also worried she might reconsider.

“It’s done. Everyone knows. The Greengrasses are not happy, but as it turns out, Astoria wasn’t particularly upset. Especially not after I insisted the settlement for breaking the betrothal go to her and not her parents. Seems like she prefers independence over a marriage to me in any event.”

Well there was an unexpected balm for her conscience, but Hermione didn’t really care about Astoria Greengrass, not that she relished the thought of the witch being hurt. But she didn’t know the witch.

Narcissa and Lucius were another story. They’d become dear to her and she was terrified about what their reactions might be. “And your parents?” she asked, unable to hid her nervousness.

So she was taken aback when Draco’s eyes lit up with joy. He coughed, attempting — poorly — to hide a smirk. “About that. I have a letter for you from my father.”

Her nerves were stil on high alert as she opened the sealed parchment with trembling hands, frowning as she took in Draco’s poorly concealed grin.

My dear Miss Granger,

You wound me. After my concerted effort to welcome you into my ancestral home and indeed into our lives, you truly believe me to be capable of acting against my son’s wishes in matters of the heart? For shame, Miss Granger. For shame.

Since my efforts on this front also managed to escape my son’s notice, I will spell it out plainly for you here, just as I had to for Draco in person. I told you I expected my son to wed soon for the very same reason I told him he must either make his own choice or accept a betrothal from his parents. Namely, so you foolish children would realise you are perfect for each other and act accordingly!

Do not misunderstand me. Astoria Greengrass is a fine witch and she has left Malfoy Manor with more galleons than her parents would have ever deigned to give her and my heartfelt felicitations. But Miss Granger had the match proceeded, she would have been a consolation prize to more than just Draco.

My dear, after seeing first-hand the lamentable consequences of attempts to force my choices on Draco, I want nothing more than for you to marry my son and make him happy, as I (ahem) was always aware that you are in fact, his choice. I have loved none but my dearest Narcissia, but that is only because the fates smiled on me when I did not deserve it. Draco, however, deserves the world. Seeing as you are his world, I was compelled to act to see him happily settled with you at his side, permanently.

(As an aside, I think it uncouth for me to point out that no one — such as yourself — worthy of a Malfoy ought to be saddled with a Weasley. Further, I fear it would also be uncouth for me to discuss how often I pondered why a witch happy in her ‘relationship’ would spend so much of her limited free time in the home of her ‘colleague’ dining with his parents — occasionally doing so even when my son was unavailable, and Narcissa and I were blessed to have you all to ourselves. One might forgive me for assuming it meant you enjoyed our company. But I digress and as I do not wish to be uncouth, I will say neither of those things.)

While I must confess that your doubt has caused me some genuine hurt, in truth it is only a small injury to my pride and this letter is perhaps more harsh than the injury itself justifies. Narcissa and I are overjoyed the pair of you have finally, as I understand Muggles say, “gotten your shite together” and I expect (and in truth demand) to see even more of you at the Manor than we have in the past. All of the denizens of Malfoy Manor have missed you terribly over the past month — with Bunny left especially bereft by your absence. (In time, I hope you can forgive yourself for hurting a house elf. If it helps, I do not believe she intends to hold a grudge.)

For the sake of moving forward as a family, I will admit that given my history, your caution to Draco that he ought to involve Theo when telling us of his intentions was wise. One might even go so far as to describe it as a cunning choice on your part. (You know my dear, despite how often you claim your hat-stall was between those abominable do-gooders and Ravenclaw, your evasiveness on questioning has led me to wonder if Slytherin actually had the next best claim on you. If you confess this to me, all will be forgiven and I will forget you ever suspected me capable of treachery when in truth I only had the very best of fatherly intentions towards you both.)

I expect to see you both at the Manor soon. We intend to proceed with wedding planning, far more joyously now the correct bride is in place. (Narcissa tells me it would not be appropriate to have a second betrothal ball and was not swayed in the slightest when I pointed out it would actually be the first ever Malfoy Engagement Ball. I do hope your heart wasn’t set on that my dear, as I have reluctantly acceded my wife’s better judgement in this regard.) I have instructed my son to ask you himself properly, in the Muggle fashion. The ring belonged to my mother, who would have adored you had she lived in a world where meeting you was possible. Do not fret about the heirloom, it suits you — just as you are.

By now, Miss Granger, I hope you realise you have stolen the hearts of all the Malfoys. Please take care with them — for though we have a well-earned reputation for ferocity in most matters, our hearts are unaccustomed to the fray and thus, more fragile than you might expect. If it helps, pretend we are similar to house elves and treat us accordingly. (Of course, except for the time you ignored Bunny for a month. None of us could withstand such cruelty from a loved one.)

Narcissa and I love our son very much, and while he is in no way deficient, I must confess we always longed for a daughter. We are waiting for you, my dear. And please be merciful with Draco — as the cleverest among us, he was the first to recognize your true worth and has therefore been waiting for you the longest.

With great love and affection,

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy

P.S., Turn around.

Feeling dazed, Hermione did as the letter bade. She was at turns bewildered, amused, mildly irritated and deeply touched by the words written by Lucius Malfoy. So utterly engrossed by the parchment in her hands, that Hermione hadn’t noticed Draco getting down on one knee.

He held out a ring — a simple one by Malfoy standards. A reasonably sized emerald, set with smaller diamonds on either side. Lucius was right, it did suit her — far better than the ridiculously enormous diamond which had graced Astoria’s finger the night before, a ring Hermione simultaneously loathed and deeply coveted.

Over the years, she had witnessed Draco in all manner of precarious situations. Their line of work was dangerous and as partners they had been frequently been in peril together. She was struck by how odd it was — to see fear on his face for first time since she’d acceded to Robards unenthusiastic plea for her to accept Draco as her partner, a request only made after the rest of the department had already refused. Strange to realized she could be the one provoke that fear, especially when she loved him so.

Draco exhaled before speaking, his voice clear as his eyes never left hers. “Hermione. If this feels too sudden, I’ll tell Father he can go hang and I will wait until you are ready. But you should know I’m not asking because he or Mother or anyone else wants me to. I want to, Granger — me. I want to know you are finally mine. In fact, I want the whole world to know you are mine. Because you — Hermione Jean Granger — you and no one else, are my choice. Now and always.”

Hermine bit her lip, nodding at him as tears slid freely down her cheeks — waiting.

Draco’s anxiety disappeared and his eyes filled with tears as well as the most beautiful smile she’d ever witnessed graced his face. “Hermione, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Of course I will, yes.”

She would have said more, but she was back in Draco’s embrace too quickly and her ability to speak was hindered for a long time thereafter — not that she was complaining. When they finally separated, clothing in disarray and ring on her finger, Hermione took a few minutes to respond to her future father-in-law. After she sent off her owl, Hermone dragged her fiancee into her bedroom without a word — not that he had any complaints either.

Once there, Draco set upon her like a man possessed, quickly divesting her of everything that wasn’t her engagement ring as he explained in detail exactly how he intended to fulfil every fantasy he had about her over the past three years. Seeing howthey were more or less the same fantasies Hermione had about him, she was more than happy to oblige.

Happy coincidence, that.

——————————————————————————————

Lucius Malfoy sat in his study at Malfoy Manor, immensely pleased with himself for finally getting his oblivious children on the right path. He was in the midst of his second self-congratulatory glass of firewhisky when an unfamiliar owl interrupted his reverie.Lucius’s curiosity already piqued and it only l grew on further inspection, when he discovered the letter was charmed so it could only be opened and read by himself. Quickly confirming there were no dark spells at play, Lucius opened the envelope and began to read.

My Dearest Lucius,

If you don’t irrevocably and unequivocally forgive me for my unintentional slight to you (as well as promise to never bring the matter up again in the future) I will convince Draco to elope with me within the month. Further, I will — with copious tears in my eyes — tell Narcissa that your letter is what pushed me to do so, thus laying the blame for depriving her of the opportunity to throw us a lavish wedding squarely at your feet.

However, should you graciously accept my terms without fuss (ahem), not only will I enthusiastically allow Narcissa to plan our wedding, I promise on the occasion of our tenth wedding anniversary I will tell you the unabridged version of my initial encounter with the sorting hat. Between us both, I do not think you will be disappointed by the tale.

Choose wisely.

Affectionately,

The Future Mrs. Hermione Granger-Malfoy

P.S.

I look forward to receiving your reply by the end of business on Friday; failing which, I will be forced to put my alternative plans in motion.

P.P.S.

Having said that, please do not feel like you have to rush your decision on my account. For the next few days at least, Draco and I expect to be quite preoccupied.

P.P.P.S.

I love you too.

The very instant Lucius read the last word, Miss Granger’s letter burst into flame, vanishing in a puff of smoke which destroyed all evidence of her affectionate threats. No one was present to witness it, but the brief light from the fire illuminated an actual grin on the face of Lord Malfoy, the likes of which was only rarely seen by his wife.

Lucius chuckled as he brought the firewhisky to his lips and took a hearty sip from the tumbler. Hermione Granger was going to fit in here beautifully.

He fervently hoped any future grandchildren would have curls.

75 notes · View notes

dramioneasks · 1 year

Text

Amor Vincit Omnia by Twin_Flame_Blues - E, 32 chapters, Words: 288,120 - After three years of dating, Ron admits he cheated on Hermione for two of those years with Daphne Greengrass--and Harry knew all about it. Reeling from the betrayal by her friends and family, Hermione must rebuild her life and discover new bonds with an unlikely group including Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson. What happens when Draco Malfoy, her first and deepest love, suddenly reappears in Hermione's life and she finds that her feelings have only grown deeper with time? OR: Hermione and Draco secretly dated at Hogwarts, he left after his trial, and now he's returned to win her back.

Paris by Twin_Flame_Blues - E, one-shot - This one-shot takes place in the AVO universe, about 7 years after the end of the main (pre-epilogue) story from AVO.

Amor Vincit Omnia - The Beginning by Twin_Flame_Blues - M, 7 chapters - All of the flashbacks (plus a few new ones!) from the original AVO, organized in chronological order. This is essentially the prequel fic to AVO, telling the story of how Draco and Hermione got together at Hogwarts, how they kept their relationship a secret, and what they went through in the lead up to, during, and immediately after the war. I really wanted to compile all of the flashbacks from AVO into their own story so you could read it all the way through in order for a different experience than you get in AVO. The story begins during 4th year and continues through the end of Draco's trial after the war. You can read this either if you have or have not read the original AVO, it will make sense either way, and the backstory built in this fic will remain consistent for all other works in the AVO universe, including alternate timeline fics that will pick up where this story ends. Enjoy these two idiots falling in love!

48 notes · View notes

twelve-nights · 7 days

Text

"severus snape was in love with lily evans" WRONG.

#canon divergancy or something idfk but if i can spite jkr with my existence #and past life #i shall.#tbf i was very divergent and none of the golden trio (actually it was 4 of them for me) were in gryf so take that i guess #(they were harry/ron/hermione/draco)#(slyth/huff/raven/slyth respectively)#petrified feathers : kin things #fictionkin #severus snape kin

5 notes · View notes

1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam · 11 months

Text

Can you IMAGINE if Sirius and Harry had been truly reunited the night Harry ran away after blowing up Aunt Marge? I feel like the two of them would've been SO chaotic together. 13 year old Harry fresh from inflating his non-blood aunt and seething over the Dursleys' words about his parents, teaming up with 33 year old Sirius fresh from 12 years in Azkaban, basically frothing at the mouth to rip Peter apart and protect his godson. They would be SO fucking fun for the Wizarding World to deal with (NOT). I'm imagining a world where Harry recognizes Sirius' magical signature or some bullshit as Padfoot and isn't immediately terrified when Padfoot suddenly turns into the murderous ex-con he just saw on the news had escaped. They're both just suddenly on the run from the Ministry bc Harry is like ??? WHY DO I RECOGNIZE YOU??? And Sirius is like I'M NOT LEAVING THIS KID AGAIN LIKE I DID THAT NIGHT!!!! So they're running around Britain and Harry's getting the 411 on Peter's betrayal and cute Marauders anecdotes and Sirius is losing his mind bc OMG it's his best friend and best friend-in-law (it's a thing, OKAY!?)'s son and he's so big and sassy and angry. And then Sirius is trying to figure out where they should go, and ends up deciding to go to fuckin Moony's place even though that's the first place people who knew them back then would check bc idk luck is on their side for once idc. So Remus has the absolute pleasure of opening the door to Mr. Harry James Potter in the company of a terrifyingly familiar black dog, and Remus' alarms are firing in his head as Sirius transforms from Padfoo t back into himself and he's shouting at Remus to LET HIM EXPLAIN, while Harry is doing his best to not let Remus fire a spell at his newly discovered godfather. Eventually Remus just lets Sirius explain on his front porch steps like they're a bunch of barbarians bc he refuses to let Sirius inside or let his guard down for a single second, and then Sirius tells him the whole story and Harry pulls out the Daily Prophet, and suddenly Harry has two absolutely FUCKIN FURIOUS Marauders on his hands, and they both want to chop Peter's head off and roast it on a stick, but Harry is oddly enough the most reasonable bc he's suddenly got a godfather that he doesn't want to lose bc hey, dude's kinda really great and also doesn't hate his guts like the Dursleys do, so of course he yells at them that they can't do anything yet bc Sirius would be carted back to Azkaban and probably Remus (who is still currently this random man to him ngl but also apparently the other loyal bestie his dad had at Hogwarts, so Harry doesn't want him chucked in Azkaban either) as well. So they devise a plan that involves kidnapped the fuck outta Scabbers as soon as Ron and Harry board the train together on September 1st, and Remus already has the DADA job, so he can help w that (although he still falls asleep bc I think Moony is absolutely iconic for that). And then the three of them just chill for about a month til it's time to board the Hogwarts Express, in which everyone at the station is suitably horrified when Harry just rolls up to the train with his brand spankin new pet dog Snuffles like nothing happened and he didn't just disappear off the face of the earth for nearly a MONTH, but Harry just ignores all that shit bc boy is on a MISSION and that mission is to destroy the bastard who got his parents killed and also started the catalyst of events that led to him growing up in an abusive household for like 10 years. Which is a thing he discussed at length w Remus and Sirius because Dumbledore is a manipulative piece of shit who TOTALLY KNEW the Dursleys were awful people and still decided to place him there :))))

Basically what ends up happening is Harry asks Ron to hand Scabbers over for a minute under the pretense of idek checking his lil rat toes or some shit bc he saw one was missing ???? And then Harry kicks Remus awake to do the spell, which he does, while Ron and Hermione are becoming deeply confused and disturbed by Harry's one-track mind and clear hatred for this stupid little RAT, but they let it happen bc Hermione sees the Professor part of RJ Lupin on Remus' briefcase (which, SCORE 1 for the Marauders definitely pranking him by getting him that briefcase at some point bc they WOULD and he had never been a professor before then so ???), and Ron and Hermione don't have a problem with authority figures, that's fuckin Harry. And Remus turns Wormtail back into Peter, and we get the whole Peter begging the Trio for mercy before Sirius turns back into himself from Padfoot, at which time Ron and Hermione start yelling about the escaped very dangerous convict in their TRAIN CAR, while Harry tries to convince them that Sirius isn't a danger to anyone in the tiny space but the fucking RAT, at which time Ron is like WELL HE'S NOT ACTUALLY A RAT ANYMORE NOW IS HE HARRY???!!! And Harry has to go with the short version of HE BETRAYED MY PARENTS RONALD!!!! while Peter is cornered by Sirius and Remus. And no, nobody has heard the yelling yet bc obviously Remus cast the Muffliato Charm or something, of course he did, I wouldn't forget that people have EARS. And then all of the sudden, the train car starts getting all cold, so Remus starts yelling at Sirius to change back to Padfoot bc the dementors won't sense a human that could be Kissed if he's not in human form, and Sirius does, but Peter also tries and Ron realizes what's happening and knocks him out (why Ron? Idk, why NOT him honestly, it's what he deserves after letting that creepy motherfucker live with him for the past few years bc YIKES I would be so freaked out) before Peter can turn back into a rat. The dementors come into the train car and Harry has his fainting spell which makes Sirius and Remus suitably LOSE THEIR MINDS bc WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED TO THE KID?!!??!! and Remus uses the Patronus Charm to repel them even though it means Peter won't be Kissed and Remus really wants revenge.

So Harry wakes up and is immediately accosted by his best friends, Sirius back in human form, and Remus trying to force chocolate into him. Ron and Hermione have been suitably informed of the situation, so they've closed the curtains, and nobody even knows what's happened besides those in the train car with them. Sirius doesn't have his wand, but he resolves to sit as Padfoot, staring at an unconscious Peter for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts, and the other four join him because no way in HELL are they letting that MF escape after Harry and Remus have managed to explain everything (and even before bc Ron and Hermione are the best and all they needed to hear was that Harry's parents died bc of Peter to determine that they would fucking the rat UP if he tried anything at all). So of course this weird fuckin quintet shows up to Hogsmeade's station with the real traitor and have to wait for everyone else to exit the train before traipsing up to the castle with the still unconscious Peter (Ron may not have cared all that much about being careful with head injuries from knocking bastards out bc of the whole ya know TRAITOR thing). Remus manages to send off a Patronus message to McGonagall (her bc of the aforementioned Dumbledore is a shithead thing) and they all head to Remus' new office with Peter in tow. Minerva shows up to Sirius as Padfoot, but an unconscious man who is CLEARLY Peter Pettigrew, and she's immediately like WHAT THE HELL??? and calls in some Aurors to deal with the trash. The Aurors are all suitably horrified but clear out soon bc they're not important to this story (sorry, kisses Aurors😘), and Minerva starts raging about Sirius being innocent and how DARE Peter, to which the Trio are extremely horrified bc they've never seen her lose her shit QUITE this much and it is highkey terrifying, but Remus is enjoying the show bc at least SOMEONE AGREES and Padfoot is wagging his tail and panting happily before Sirius realizes that Minerva can KNOW and he transforms back into himself, giving the poor professor half a heart attack. And because I think it would be hilarious for me personally, Snape walks in at the end of this lil story to see where tf Remus is bc he and Minerva are BOTH missing from the Welcome Feast, to Minerva McGonagall hugging the life out of a beaming Sirius Black while Remus looks at the two of them with a huge amount of relief bc THANK GOD she accepted his innocence, that could've been so bad for them lmao, they couldn't even Disapparate away at Hogwarts if she decided he wasn't innocent after all. And then Snape sees the Trio right beside Remus, also watching the hug and grinning like fools, especially Harry bc this meant Sirius was going to be FREE and also Harry would never have to deal with seeing the Dursleys or dealing with the fact that he literally blew up Dudley's aunt ever :)))

#harry potter #Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban #texts to my bestie #although it is a different bestie but I am obsessive about my sorting tags so whatever #okay did y’all know that there is limit to how long paragraphs in posts could be?#because I certainly did NOT #it wouldn’t like me put this all into 2 paragraphs so everyone say thank you tumblr for not making you read a huge blob #I have zero concept of paragraph control when I’m just copying and pasting from my literal texts oops #sirius black #remus lupin #ronald weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #I tagged him as Ronald and physically CRINGED bc it felt so weird #yes #even tho I called him Ronald in this very post #leave me aloooooooooooooone #minerva mcgonagall #severus snape #almost tagged Snape before McGonagall and would’ve had a breakdown over it bc I hate Snape sm :)#albus dumbledore #LISTEN #I know he doesn’t show up but my hatred for that man PERMEATES so he’s getting a tag anyway #sorry y’all #deal with it #anti jkr #not relevant but needs to be said especially during Pride Month because fuck her🏳️‍🌈#anti jk rowling #anti albus dumbledore #ig I should tag that too??

14 notes · View notes

realitybitesyouknowit · 1 year

Text

“Do you like it?” Voldemort asks before he can embarrass himself further.

Harry stills. “What?”

“My new face,” Voldemort says, tilting his head with an odd look on said face. If he were just a bit more buzzed, Harry might call it coquettish. “Do you like it?”

In which Harry creates an opportunity, and Voldemort takes it.

#Harry Potter #Fanfiction #ao3 #past drarry #Past Harry/Draco #Fake/pretend relationships #Voldemort gave up the war #Harrymort #Oblivious Harry #Harry is a little shit too #Hermione's mad Harry made her feel sorry for Voldemort #Ron's just having the time of his life at the end #ministry galas

3 notes · View notes

springairs · 1 year

Text

Fated

The last place Harry expects to find his soulmate is in Azkaban.

...

“Hello,” Harry tries again. “What are you doing up?”

“Can’t sleep in this place.” Malfoy smiles slightly, and Harry can’t help but be a little creeped out by the way his lips curl. “I’ve finally went fucking insane, then?” he asks, every word posh and delicate and slow, like he’ll break something other than silence if he raises his voice too much.

#fanfic #my writing #my fic #fluff #angst #harry potter #draco malfoy #hermione granger #ron weasley #ginny weasley #post war #azkaban #past hinny #romione #drarry

3 notes · View notes

padfootastic · 2 years

Text

writing a oneshot about a very specific scene and suddenly there’s so much worldbuilding about Houses and Lordships and Family Magics and we’re at *checks notes* 2.6k words and the prompt hasn’t even been touched yet 💀💀 like i could take this and plop it into any other postwar fic, and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

i am,,,,very consciously not complaining because of how much fun i’m having (after a long time) and i do not want to jinx myself into forced-writing again. but by god, my ability to spin bullshit astounds me sometimes.

#it’s just the golden trio being cute and talking so far #ron & hermione are educating harry about the wizarding world’s traditons #traditions*#poor baby’s working thru grief and guilt + emotional numbness #and bam comes sirius’ name #anyway it’s all very fun and after i’m done we gotta do a review #to see if something needs to go to the graveyard #i started off in a very different format than i’ve done before #also i’m writing in present tense!! realised my tense switching is giving me a headache so i’m trying to do sumn about it in the beginning #anyway yeah just wanted to put this here bc i’ve been whining about not liking my stuff for the past few days #and this is not like that!!!#pen’s writing

10 notes · View notes

pookha · 4 months

Text

Dream With Me

Chapter 2: July 1998

See first chapter for summary and TWs. This chapter contains violence.

https://www.tumblr.com/pookha/737564632111333376/dream-with-me?source=share

Now that Ron has started his training with the Aurors, Hermione's nightmares have returned. The results of the paparazzo's photographs are revealed in the Quibbler. Hermione receives disappointing news from Australia. While Hermione is out, Luna comes to visit to talk to her, but ends up talking to Harry and Ginny instead.

July 1998

The knife bit deeply and Hermione screamed. Bellatrix’s foul breath spilled into Hermione’s mouth and nostrils as she questioned Hermione. Nothing mattered but making the pain stop, nothing mattered, not Harry, not Ron, but she held and didn’t tell. The knife bit again and again. Bellatrix’s teeth ripped at Hermione’s shoulder and she whispered to her in between questions.

“Greyback’s next for you. He likes a bit of sweet meat. Tell me how you got it and I’ll kill you quickly. It doesn’t have to be Greyback.”

Then she was back to screaming questions at Hermione. Bellatrix’s eyes glowed at Hermione’s pain-filled writhing.

Hermione pushed it away; she knew it was the nightmare again. It wasn’t as bad here at the Burrow and she pushed. Bellatrix stretched like taffy and snapped, then she saw Greyback coming, but she turned him into a corgi with a crown like the Queen’s. She stood and willed Malfoy Manor to go away.

Hermione woke up, drenched in sweat, touched the spot where Ron had slept just the week before and sighed. She held his pillow to her face, but his scent had already faded. He’d come back once to get some more of his clothes and a small trunk of possessions and then had left immediately back to his training. The nightmares hadn’t been as bad when she was sleeping with Ron, but they were coming back stronger again. She rested in bed for a long time, her head down in her hands. Suddenly, a knock came at her door and a hand slid an official looking envelope under it, followed a moment later by a magazine with a lurid ad for ‘Potions of Prowess for Men of Discernment’ featuring a very phallic looking wand that covered the entire back cover. Hermione knew it had to be an issue of the Quibbler .

“Dear, you should probably read the letter before looking at the Quibbler,” Molly’s voice came from behind the door.

“Thanks, Mrs—Molly,” Hermione said, rising to get the letter.

The letter was from the Australian Department of Muggle Relations. She picked it up and slit open the wax seal.

…regret to inform…further memory manipulation could be detrimental…cannot authorise restoration of memories…they are thriving…seem happy…Sincerely.

The words danced menacingly around behind her closed eyes; they spiralled and twisted and her stomach churned with vertigo. She’d expected the worst, but now that it was confirmed, she found she hadn’t really been ready for it. When she started to cry, it surprised her. She gulped in big breaths of air, but they came out explosively in heaving sobs. Tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the oversize shirt of Ron’s that she wore to bed. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there on the edge of the bed with her tears smearing the ink on the evidence of her crime against her parents when Harry opened the door already dressed for the day in jeans and a T-shirt.

He crossed the room in two loping steps and sat next to her on the bed. He pulled her close and let her cry on him until her sobs subsided and her hitched breathing grew more regular.

“I did this to them,” she said, shoving the smeared letter into his hands.

He read it quickly and kissed her forehead.

“You saved them. If they’d stayed, the Death Eaters surely would have killed them.”

“But is what I did any better? I didn’t ask them; I just assumed I knew better. How is it different from ‘Magic is Might?’”

“It is different. You saved them because you love them. ‘Magic is Might’ doesn’t care about love, it only cares about control.”

“I suppose…” she started to say, but Harry cut her off.

“Don’t suppose, it’s the truth; don’t be hard on yourself. I know how it is to be without your parents.”

“Not going to tell me that it’s going to be easier for me because I know they’re still alive?” Hermione asked, a little acid in her voice.

“No,” Harry said simply. “No, that sounds like shit. It’s going to be fucking hard. I’ll be there for you; anything you need, you call me. Okay?”

She’d told Molly recently that Harry was like her brother and it was true; he was her brother and she was his sister and he’d always be family to her.

He tossed the letter on the desk and picked up the Quibbler curiously. When he turned it over, his face reddened in anger.

“What is it?” she asked and he held the magazine out to her.

The front of the magazine was a full-page, grainy, long-range shot of Hermione and Ron sitting on a blanket in the Burrow’s garden. He was holding out a ring to her and she was reaching out toward his hand. The caption under the Quibbler masthead read ‘Wedding Bells for our Saviours?’ She thumbed the magazine open to the article. Harry could see more pictures of Ron and Hermione in the garden, some from the same day and some from other days. There were a couple of photos of Harry and Ginny there, too. He couldn’t read the article over Hermione’s hands, but he knew what it had to say from the way her face went from sadness to anger to flaming rage. When she’d finished, she threw it across the room, grabbed her wand and a second later, the magazine exploded in a shower of confetti. A little fragment of a photo of her and Ron kissing landed on her lap and she ripped it apart.

“This fucking rag!” she yelled.

“Was it bad?” he asked and she rounded on him.

“It was a total fucking invasion of our privacy! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck” she got louder with each shout.

“He said that Ron and I have been secretly engaged for weeks and that we were going to get married in a big event when we receive our Orders of Merlin. It’s so dumb. Even if Ron and I got married, we wouldn’t do it in a big spectacle. The article made us out to be giant egomaniacs just riding your coattails. They put words in our mouth without interviewing us: not like I’d sit for an interview with the Quibbler anyway. I just don’t know how they can make stuff up wholesale.”

She flicked her wand at the confetti bits of the magazine and they flew into the bin, then she set them on fire. No smoke came from the fire and the bin didn’t catch alight, but no trace was left of the magazine after a few seconds, not even ash.

“Do you want to hire a barrister?” Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head.

“It would just give credence to it with publicity and I don’t want any more publicity, good or bad. Do you?”

“No. You’re right,” Harry said.

“I wonder if I damaged him also when I erased his memory of us?” Hermione asked, flopping heavily back on the bed. Harry understood she meant Xenophilius.

“I don’t think so; Luna would have said something.”

“I need to get out of here today, go somewhere, do something. If I knew what I needed for sure for Hogwarts, I’d go get my supplies. Or at least I would if I had money. Now I know how Ron always felt.”

Harry dug in his pocket and pulled out some Galleons.

“Why don’t you go to Flourish and Blotts and buy yourself some books, my treat.” He tried to push the money at her, but she pulled back.

“I can’t take more of your money, Harry.”

He grabbed her hand, opened it, stuck the coins in, and closed her hand over them..

“You can and you should. I have more than I need and it can help you. Get yourself something nice, treat yourself to lunch, visit George and bring me back something from WWW or some sweets.” He closed her hand.

“I—thanks,” she said.

“You probably should wash and put on some clothes though before you go or the Quibbler will have more interesting pictures.” He nodded at her bare legs and tear-streaked cheeks.

“I have knickers on under here,” she said, swatting him.

“I know, but the Quibbler would say something like ‘Temptress and Seductress.’”

She laughed and then sobered up instantly.

“I don’t understand how Luna can believe so much of the Quibbler, so much of her dad’s lies.”

“He’s her only family; her mom died in an accident when she was small and Xenophilius raised her. Seems natural that she’d look up to him.”

“I guess. I’d hate to lose her as a friend because of her father, but if she’s always going to bristle at criticism of him and the Quibbler, then I don’t know if I can be her friend.” She sighed and started digging in her pack for clothes.

“You haven’t put your clothes in the dresser?” Harry asked, nodding toward it.

“It seems too permanent.” She started to shuck off her sleep shirt, then stopped and stared at him pointedly.

“I’m going, I’m going. Have fun in Diagon Alley. Forget the letter and the magazine. Bring me some sweets.” He leaned over, kissed her forehead, then left.

Later, Harry heard Hermione leave through the Floo and went in search of Ginny, who wasn’t in her room. He finally found her feeding the chickens with Crookshanks supervising from outside the coop. He scratched Crookshanks on the back of the neck and Crookshanks butted his hand vigorously when Harry stopped. Harry laughed and kept scratching Crookshanks until the cat got up and stalked off, tail up.

“Aw, that was cute,” Ginny said as she put the feed bucket away and carefully cleaned up the spilled feed to keep away rats and gnomes.

“He’s a good moggie,” Harry said, watching Crookshanks disappear into the weeds of the garden.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, taking Harry’s hand. They headed toward the kitchen door.

“Did you talk to Hermione before she left?”

Ginny shook her head.

“I saw her and she looked upset, but she’d flooed away before I could talk to her.”

Harry thought for just a moment, then told Ginny about the letter and the issue of the Quibbler.

“So it had photos of us also?” she asked.

“It did, but I couldn’t see them clearly. Most of the photos I could see were of us snogging or Ron and Hermione snogging.”

“Could you tell where they were taken from?” she asked. He nodded and pointed to just outside the Weasley’s property. Ginny called Crookshanks, who came trotting out of the garden. She knelt down, whispered in his ear and pointed off at the grass where the photographer must have been hidden. Crookshanks listened in a very un-catlike manner, then stalked off, low to the ground into the tall grass. A moment later there was a commotion and the unmistakable sound of someone Apparating away. Ginny laughed as Crookshanks came trotting back, tail up with a camera strap in his mouth. He followed Ginny and Harry into the kitchen. Harry dug around and found a tin of tuna and gave it all to Crookshanks on a plate. He took the camera strap and hung it on a coat peg.

They were just about to head up to Ginny’s room when a knock came at the front door. Harry was closest so he opened it. Luna was on the other side, in a short yellow floral dress. An enchanted bright orange Japanese-style parasol floated over her head. She had a necklace of daisies and her wand behind her ear. Her large silvery eyes stared around the entranceway before landing on Harry.

“Harry!” she said gleefully as she stepped forward and hugged him. The parasol folded up, shrank and slid itself into a hidden pocket on her dress When Harry stepped back, Ginny hugged Luna and kissed her on the cheek. Luna returned the kiss on Ginny’s cheek.

She came in and Harry closed the door behind her.

“It’s been a while since Bill and Fleur’s wedding,” she said apropos of nothing.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“What brings you here?” Ginny said, leading Luna to the sitting room.

“I was hoping Hermione was here,” she said quietly.

“Is everything all right?” Harry asked, noticing Luna’s tone.

“I was hoping to see her before she saw the latest edition of the Quibbler.” Luna looked at everything but Harry and Ginny.

“It’s too late for that. She was…” Ginny looked at Harry who shrugged.

“Vexed?” Luna asked.

“She threw a right old wobbler,” Harry said. Luna blinked.

“She was extremely angry, shredded the magazine, binned it and lit it on fire,” Harry clarified.

“Oh,” Luna said and lowered her head.

She sighed slowly, a sound that Harry had never heard from her and she kept her eyes down for a long time before raising them to meet Harry’s.

“Will you tell her I was here and I’m sorry for what my father did? I told him that it wasn’t true; I know that Hermione loves Ronald, but there’s no way they’re getting engaged right now. He’s going to join the Aurors and she’s going back to Hogwarts.”

“How do you know that? Both of those?” Harry asked.

Luna tilted her head and looked at him like he was an interesting bug or a talking dog.

“Well, Neville got a letter from the Aurors and he said that you and Ronald and Hermione had also. Neville’s not going to do it but I know Ronald will…it’s just what he’d do. In the same way, I know Hermione would want to go back to Hogwarts.”

“And you,” she pointed at Harry. “I’m not sure what you’ll do, but I think you’re coming back to school with us?”

Harry nodded.

“Daddy wouldn’t listen to me. He said it was obvious that they’re getting engaged because so many people got married young after and during the last war, like Molly and Arthur. I told him that Hermione was different, but I don’t know why he was so set on it.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner and wait for Hermione?” Ginny asked. She got up and sat next to Luna and took her hand.

“No, I need to help Daddy. He’s been trying to repair the tower, but he’s not as good at it as Mum was, or I am for that matter. Please just ask Hermione to forgive him and I’ll keep trying to make him understand.” She squeezed Ginny’s hand and stood abruptly.

As she was leaving, she turned and spoke.

“Oh, and let her know she was right. It was an Erumpent horn; I can tell from the damage. Apologise for me for that, too. Just apologise for me all around, I guess.”

Harry moved to talk to her, to grab her, but she closed the door in his face and he heard her Apparate away before he could open the door again.

“I’ve never seen Luna like that before, have you?” Harry asked.

“I—yeah.” Ginny took Harry’s hand and pulled him toward her room. He started to ask a question, but she squeezed his hand in warning and pointed at her ear. Harry understood she meant that someone, probably Molly, could be listening.

When they got to Ginny’s room, she closed the door and put the Silencing Charm on it. She sat on her bed and patted the spot next to her.

“You don’t know what it was like at Hogwarts last year. Everyone was scared, frightened of what they might have done to them or what they might be forced to do to others. Neville, Luna and I took on a lot with the DA in the Room of Requirement, but we were scared too.”

She sighed.

“Even Luna was scared. I—we…” she paused.

“You slept together; it’s okay, I already knew.” He put his arm around her shoulders.

“What? How?”

“The map: when we were on the run, I’d watch your name on the map and imagine I was there holding you. If you went into the Room of Requirement, it would disappear, but I saw your name and Luna’s together in both your dorm and hers. Whatever happened there happened there and I know it didn’t have anything to do with me.”

Ginny let out a long breath.

“I was so scared you’d be angry.”

“No, I get it. Don’t tell Hermione or Ron I told you, but at one point Ron left for a time and it was just Hermione and me. We almost…well, but we didn’t…it would have been weird. So I understand the need to be held and loved and don’t begrudge you that at all.”

“Thank you, love.” She lifted her face and kissed him lightly.

“Luna was like that then. She hides it better than anyone I’ve ever known, but she was so scared and lonely and so was I. And so was Neville. But if you had the map, you knew about that, too, right?”

Harry nodded.

“Same thing. It’s in the past, we weren’t together and they gave you what you needed. I’m glad they were there for you and you for them.”

He elbowed her lightly.

“I gotta know, though, am I better than Neville?”

She reddened, then laughed when she realised he was just winding her up.

“Hmm. I don’t know. I’ll have to check again.” Her hand slid under his shirt and they lost the next hour and a half.

“I love you,” she said when she got up to shower. She paused at the door and made sure her mother wasn’t watching before creeping down the hallway on tiptoes. Harry used his wand to clean up and slid his clothes on just in time before Molly knocked on the door.

“Harry, dear, can you help me with the runner beans?” her voice called from behind the door.

“Sure, Molly, be right there.” He met her in the garden a moment later and helped her tie up beans to stakes.

“Please, dear, I want you two to be careful,” she said eventually.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Ginny wants to play professional Quidditch, so no getting her pregnant, okay?”

“I—I,” Harry stammered. “We’re being careful. I’m using the charm and she’s using the potion.” He felt like he could fry an egg on his face.

“Okay, then,” Molly said simply and changed the subject.

Later that night, long after dinner, Harry was reading a book on Quidditch strategy when Hermione’s unmistakable knock came at his door.

“Come in,” he said.

She opened the door, came in with a big bag under her arm and closed the door. She sat on the bed while Harry stayed at his desk. She dug in her bag, rummaged a moment and then tossed a couple of Mars bars at Harry, who caught them.

“I went to Flourish and Blotts, but there were too many people who wanted to talk to me and ask me questions and get my autograph, so I went to Gringotts, changed my money, and went into Muggle London. I thought you might like a Mars bar.”

Harry had already unwrapped one and bitten into it. Hermione smiled as she watched him chew. It was the first real smile he’d seen from her that day. When he could answer, he said, “thank you.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve bought books that weren’t for school. Thank you for lending me the money.”

“You don’t have to ever pay me back; it’s a gift.”

“Thank you then for the gift.” She pulled out a thick book about brain chemistry and memory and another smaller paperback fell out with it. The paperback featured a shirtless blond man in a cowboy hat on a horse, both of them improbably muscled. The title splashed across it read, 'Untamed Bronco.' Hermione blushed and stuffed it back into her bag.

“That’s for later, since Ron’s gone,” she said. Harry laughed.

She tapped the book about the brain.

“I want to see how Muggle and Wizard view the brain and memory and where they agree and disagree. We might be different, actually different physically than Muggles.”

Harry picked up the book and flipped it to a random page. He didn’t understand more than a quarter of it.

“Does this make sense to you?” he asked, pointing out a passage. She read it and nodded.

“I’ll have to look up other resources, but I can muddle through it.” She took the book back and put it in the bag.

Harry suddenly remembered. “Oh, Luna came by today. She was really upset that her father had run the story about you. She said she tried to stop him and he wouldn’t listen. She also said she was sorry she didn’t believe you about the Erumpent horn and that she knows now it had to be an Erumpent horn from the damage.”

“That makes me feel better,” Hermione said after a long pause.

“I’d never seen Luna so upset before, but Ginny said it was a lot like when they were fighting with the DA while we were on the run. She knew somehow, in her Luna-like way, that you were going back to Hogwarts and Ron wasn’t and that you wouldn’t accept an engagement right now. You know how she is; she notices stuff.”

“Yeah, she does,” Hermione said after another long pause. She wiped her eye, which was tearing up again.

“I’m going back to my room now. Thanks again, Harry; I needed the day out.” She got up to leave. He caught her arm.

“You want company?”

She shook her head, leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“I’ve got Untamed Bronco.”

He let go of her arm. She left, closing the door behind her.

The rest of July passed in a warm haze until the week of Harry’s birthday. Hermione went back to Diagon Alley and Muggle London several times to buy more books and she visited St Mungo’s to talk to the Healers there. Harry spent the time practising Quidditch with Ginny when he wasn’t helping with the housework, gardening, feeding animals and all the other work around the Burrow. The day before his birthday Parvati Patil came to visit and she spent a long time holed up in Hermione’s room. When she came down late in the afternoon, she didn’t say goodbye to Harry or Ginny and her makeup was streaked like she’d been crying.

After dinner, while washing up, Harry leaned over and whispered to Hermione, “Everything okay with Parvati?”

Hermione glanced around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen.

“She’s going back to Hogwarts with Padma and she was a bit…” Hermione paused, searching for a word.

“Scared? Freaked out? Hesitant?” Harry asked.

“A bit of each, but also worried about…um…us?” Hermione’s whisper was very small.

“Ah,” Harry said, not knowing what else to say. The Map had given up Hermione’s secrets about her and Parvati a long time ago. Hermione knew Harry knew, but they’d never really talked about it. Harry knew that Ron knew and that Hermione and Ron had come to some agreement about it, but it wasn’t his business.

“I told her I wasn’t sure and we’d just have to see. I’ll come by your room later?”

Harry nodded and they finished the washing up. He was practising duplication Charms when Hermione knocked and he told her to come in.

She closed the door behind her and silenced it.

“Look, I know you know about Parvati and me and you’ve never pressed me on it.”

“None of my business and Ron seemed to be okay with whatever you two had decided, so I stayed out of it.”

She sat on his bed and he watched her from the desk chair.

“Thank you for that,” she said after a long pause.

“The thing with Parvati is…complicated but simple, I guess.”

“You don’t have to explain; I get it. You were lonely and scared and took comfort from each other. You’re not the only ones.” Harry got up and sat next to her on the bed and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him.

“Yes, it was that and you’re right, others did the same.” She met his eyes. “Ginny told me about her and Luna and her and Neville, but it’s not exactly the same.”

“You don’t owe me any explanation,” Harry said.

“No, but I just want you to understand how it was. It wasn’t just about being scared and lonely. I needed someone to talk to who wasn’t you or Ron, someone…” she struggled for words again.

“Female?” Harry suggested and she shook her head then shrugged and snorted a single laugh.

“Maybe, but no…um, I don’t know how to say it without hurting your feelings.”

“Just spit it out, pretend you’re Luna.”

“I needed someone around my intellectual level, or maybe just more empathetic that I could talk to.”

Harry blinked then laughed genuinely.

“You’re not angry?” Hermione asked.

“Just a tiny bit, but I know that Parvati is much more your intellectual equal. But, why not Padma, then?” He was mostly joking.

“Because I didn’t share a dorm with her, so it would have been much harder to sneak into her bed to talk and snog.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Hermione sighed.

“This has been so heavy for so long. I knew you knew, but I didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”

“So what’s up between you and Ron right now, just so I don’t step in it?” Harry squeezed her to him. He felt tears start to soak through his shirt and kissed the top of her head.

“We’re being open right now. Either of us can see other people, but we’ll still try to be together, maybe. I just think we’re going different ways. School loves don’t always follow you after school and sometimes it just doesn’t work. I do love Ron, but I don’t know if I want to be married to him and live that family life with two kids and the white picket fence. I want…I want more, something different, to make a difference in a bigger way.”

“I get it. I think I want the opposite now. I want smaller. I just want to go back to school and have a normal year and be with my girlfriend. I think I do want that family and the small life, but I want you to always be a part of it, to. Friends always?” Her tears increased on him and his eyes started watering, too.

“Yeah, friends always,” she snuffled then laughed again.

“I’m tired of crying. I’m going to spend some time reading and then go to bed. Are you sneaking off to Ginny’s room tonight?” She elbowed him, sat up and wiped her eyes.

“Not tonight; I think Molly wants us to cool it a bit.”

“All right, see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

She left and he lay back on his bed for a long time, picturing the quiet family life with Ginny and their children. What Hermione had said about school loves made him think and he hoped Ginny wanted the same thing. He vowed to talk to her about it tomorrow. He looked at his watch and realised that it was now today and it was his birthday. He got up and crept down to Ginny’s room. He didn’t knock and when he came in she was asleep with her hair pulled up in a knot. He sat down on the chair and watched her for a few minutes, then slipped into bed next to her. She stirred sleepily and slid over. He spooned up against her and soon her breathing lulled him into sleep also.

They woke up to noises in the hallway, obviously Arthur getting ready for work.

Harry kissed the back of her neck which elicited a shiver from Ginny.

“Good morning, love,” she said and turned around in his arms to kiss him.

“Good morning,” he said and kissed her again.

“I thought we’d decided to take a bit of a break to get Mom off our backs a bit?” she asked.

“Yeah, but something Hermione said last night bothered me.”

She arched an eyebrow at him and he knew it meant to go on.

“She said she wasn’t sure she wanted the quiet family life with kids and that she wanted to do something that made a difference and I knew that I do want the quiet family life and I want it with you. I know you want to play Quidditch and maybe I do, too, but after, can you picture us with kids, happy, doing good but not vitally important jobs?”

“Yeah, not seven kids of course, but two or three. Are you proposing, Harry?” She gave him a light kiss.

“Not officially, but I did want to make sure we were on the same page. I wanted to make sure this was…I don’t know, serious? For you too.”

“Very serious,” she said and slid her hand behind his neck to pull him in tighter.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time and now that I’ve got you, I’m not going to let you go. I do want to marry you, not now, but when we’re done with school. I do want children, your children, but not for a while either.”

“Good,” he said, his voice muffled because she had his head tightly pulled into her chest.

“I should get ready for the day,” he said and started to pull back.

“Oh, no. Now that you’re here, you might as well get part of your birthday present, but you’ll have to be quiet, okay?” She slipped her hands into his pyjama bottoms and slid them off, then disappeared under the blanket. Harry had a hard time staying silent and eventually she had to stuff her knickers in his mouth to keep him quiet.

#hp femslash #luna x hermione #harry potter fanfiction #8th year #head dorms #oneiromancy #canon and non canon background ships #past Hermione x Parvati #Hermione x Ron #shared dreams #no smut

0 notes