#possumwrites
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Rating: G
WC: 616
“Hermione, I’ve got a serious question for you.”
She looked up from her book warily. He always perfected non-important questions like this, especially right before bed, so she wasn’t worried, but she still eyed him from the bed, into the bathroom where he was leaning against the counter. “What’s that?” she asked, gaze fluttering back to the page.
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Hermione paused, wondering if she heard correctly. Then, slowly, she slid her bookmark in, closed the book and set it on the bed next to her. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me if I would still love you if you were a worm ?”
“Yeah.”
“Why on earth would you be a worm?”
“It’s just a hypothetical question, Hermione,” he laughed. “Like, if you woke up tomorrow and there was me, as a worm, in bed next to you, what would you do?”
“Well, how would I know it was you and not just a regular worm?”
Fred sighed, rubbing his forehead with a grin. “All right, fine. I’ll play along. A ginger worm.”
“The worm has hair?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Well, that’s slightly more concerning, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
“A worm with hair is more concerning than your husband turning into one?”
Hermione sat up a bit straighter and turned to face him, suddenly much more invested in this hypothetical conversation. “If I woke up next to a worm with hair, I wouldn’t immediately resort to thinking it was you , Fred. I’d think it was just a worm. And I’d probably try to come find you and try to figure out why the hell you put a worm in our bed.”
“And what if you couldn’t?” Fred finally moved to sit down on the bed next to her, sliding himself under the covers. “What if you went all around the house and couldn’t find me, my shoes were still by the door, everything was exactly as it was right now, but instead of me being here, it was just a worm?”
“What kind of worm?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like an earthworm or a flobberworm?”
A few seconds passed before Fred answered, “Flobberworm.”
Hermione grimaced. “Ugh… well, that’s got to be the worst husband. You’d be cheaper to feed if you were a worm, at least.”
“Hey!”
“What? You would. I didn’t say I would enjoy it.”
“So you wouldn’t love me, then.”
“I never said that.”
“I just said I was a flobberworm and you said ugh .”
“Well, because flobberworms aren’t exactly the most attractive creatures on the face of the Earth, now are they?”
“And I am?”
“Of course you are. Why do you think I married you?” she smirked.
“Because you love me.”
“Right, that too.”
“ So , if that were the case, you’d still feel the same way about me as a flobberworm, would you not?”
“Fine!” Hermione laughed. “Yes. Okay? Yes. I would still love you even if I woke up in the morning and you were a flobberworm, but don’t you dare try to pretend you did, Fred. I swear if I wake up in the morning and there’s a worm in this bed-”
“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Fred grinned, leaning over to kiss her before sliding down under the covers and pulling them up to his chin, wandlessly turning the lights out. “Night, love.”
“Well now I’m nervous to fall asleep. Who knows what might be waiting for me in the morning.” Nevertheless, she settled down with him, wrapping an arm around his middle. “There. Now if you move during the night, I’ll know.”
“I wouldn’t get too confident, now. I’ve heard that flobberworms are excellent cuddlers.”
“Go to sleep, Fred.”
#fremione#hermione granger#drabble#fred weasley#hp drabble#hp fanfiction#hp fanfic#fred x hermione#possumwrites
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11.5.22
i was scrolling through all of my old posts and contemplating deleting every single thing but i realized that in a way, i would be deleting a part of myself. granted, some of the stuff i used to reblog and post was genuinely cringey, but there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. i’ve just changed as a person and grown up, just like the world around me. people don’t make posts on tumblr the same way they did in 2015 because they’ve grown up too.
i’ve decided that i’m keeping all of my old posts as something to look back on. i know that it’s kinda silly, considering that this is the internet and it could just be deleted at any time, but it’s a nice sentiment nonetheless. why should i be upset with the person i used to be and the things i used to enjoy? why not look back on it and appreciate how happy it made me instead? it almost makes me wish that i hadn’t deleted some reallllly old posts back from when i first joined tumblr, but they’re long gone by now. that’s okay, maybe there’s a reason for that.
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First of all I would like to apologise to you but also to everyone else involved.
I have been leaving negative pro Harmony comments with the interspersed pro Draco comment on various writers for the last few weeks and months with fake accounts and guest accounts on AO3 and FFN. I didn't want talented writers like you to write anything other than Dramione fics.
For a short time I was on the Discord server to see if I could succeed. And it worked you came back to Dramione and also other authors who wrote something else before are now writing Dramione stories.
For a while I thought nothing of what my comments were doing to you Suzy, Possumwrites or other authors.
Today I saw on one of ToAF's stories that I seem to have got free riders.
I would like to apologise for my manipulative behaviour and hope that you can all recognise which reviews are mine (there were a lot of them often in the same style, because unfortunately I don't have as much talent as you). I have nothing to gain from you all being unhappy or feeling that certain sides of a fandom dislike you. That's what my father told me when he discovered what I was doing. As punishment, I'm not allowed to read any more fanfiction for a while.
I'm choosing the tumblr route because I can't reach you any other way at the moment.
I'm really sorry and I personally won't write fake comments anymore.
Cool. Because of people like you, I no longer accept comments on my stories (missing out a very fun part of fanfic writing, which is engaging with my readers) and I almost left the writing hobby all together. I'm glad you've seen the error in your ways, but that was really shitty. And if you really are sorry, come on the discord and say so, since you harmed more writers than just me.
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Lovely
Lovely
by possumwrites
Hermione and Ginny take a walk around the lake and try to figure out what's going to happen next.
Words: 1024, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 9 of Drabble Prompts
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Additional Tags: Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Canon Compliant, Friendship, no beta we die like men
Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40596000
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spin cycle 16 | jjk
pairing: jungkook x female reader
genre: drabble series, slow burn, idiots to lovers, fluff, lil bit of angst, eventual smut
summary: This random guy has started doing laundry at your favorite laundromat each week (at the same time as you, no less!) and to be honest, it’s going to be a problem. You’re just not sure how yet.
rating: 18+ for eventual smut
word count: less than 500
warnings: ??? Um?? Swearing? That’s kind of it? One ill-timed interruption for which I am not sorry???
notes: So!! Welcome to your Monday pick-me-up! I hope it does the trick. I think we’re all feeling a bit exhausted after the incredibly busy and exciting weekend and there were a few big and important holidays for some folks tucked in there as well. Happy reading and I hope your days are lovely. See you next week!
my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3
previous | series masterlist | next
Namjoon’s large enough that he fills the door frame for a moment when you open the door. For a moment, everything is fine, you say hi, and step aside to let him in. It’s when you see his roommate that every single alarm in your head starts squealing.
“Y/N.”
“Jungkook.”
He’s got that bunny in the headlights look again, but this time, he’s about to step in your apartment rather than hand you his hoodie. Fuck, you still have his hoodie! Oh fuck.
Is this the Thanksgiving plan he mentioned?
“Y’all know each other?” Namjoon draws your attention, making you break your stunned silence with Jungkook.
“Kind of—"
“Yeah,” Jungkook interrupts. He gives you a sheepish look before correcting himself slowly. “Uh, yeah. Kind of. We go to the same laundromat.”
Namjoon blinks for a moment, and then suppresses a smile. Weirdo.
“Laundry! Ah. Jungkook loves doing laundry. He looks forward to it every week. Sometimes he even takes mine.”
“That’s nice,” Roomie says, suddenly appearing at Namjoon’s elbow, a glass of wine in her hand. “What’s your name again?”
“Jungkook,” the man in question says, extending a hand.
She takes it and gives it a firm shake with her own.
“Ah, Jungkook. Nice to meet you.” You catch the tightness in her voice, but it doesn’t register for the men. “Please, make yourself at home. Y/N can take your coats. Can I get anyone anything to drink?”
Namjoon is suddenly thrusting his jacket into your hands as he says, “Let me come help you.”
He steers Roomie into the kitchen with a hand at the small of her back. She glances back at you and gives you a look. She’s connected the dots, not that it was hard to do. This is her way of making you talk to him while she scolds Namjoon for not ever mentioning the name of his roommate.
“So …” he says timidly. “You’re her roommate. “
“Yeah, and you’re his roommate.”
He looks good. This is the most dressed up you’ve ever seen him. Chinos and a shirt with buttons, instead of his usual sinfully gray sweatpants and a hoodie. His lip ring is in, and it suits him. He shrugs his coat off, but doesn’t hand it to you.
“I don’t know why he’s lying to himself about it. He’s so smitten,” Jungkook says quietly. “Where do you want the coats?”
“Oh, I can take them,” you say, gesturing with Namjoon’s jacket.
Jungkook reluctantly hands it over, but follows you as you pad off your room. He stands in the door frame, watching you gently lay the coats over your bedspread.
“So, um,” he starts, taking a step into your room. “I’m really sorry about a couple of weeks ago.”
You’d prepared for this, but didn’t expect it so soon.
“It’s okay, Jungkook. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“But you looked so—"
Suddenly, you hear a fragile crash in the kitchen, followed by a lot of loud swearing.
Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)
©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work.Thank you.
posted: 4.18.2022
#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk x female reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x female reader#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook x reader#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#drabble series#eventual smut#domestic chaos#fluff ig please I'm so bad at this#possumwrite#hELP#happy monday!
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The Taste of Longing (Namjoon/reader)
⏤ Pairing: Namjoon/reader
⏤ Genre: drabble, Royal!Au, Medieval!Au
⏤ Warnings: Sex, cursing, infidelity
__ Rating: M
Summary: Forbidden love tastes the sweetest, and makes the heart beat fast.
For @miscelunaaa , MOST DARLING EM. Thank you for listening to me be obscure, yelling over Mythology with me, and finding Namjoon as sexy as I do.
Thank you to @wwilloww for putting your amazing eyes on this and helping me to make it beautiful.
Also tagging, for the funsies: @reliablemitten @dntaewithluv @illneverrecover @sunshinerainbowsbts and @hesperantha
Also - drabble requests are OPEN, if anyone is interested? lol
Forward: This romance is based on the real life romance between Pedro I of Portugal (1320 - 1367) and his lover/then wife Ines de Castro (1325 - 1355) Reading their story after this one might bring some fun little easter eggs I put in here in perspective! <3
His lips are plush, darkened with the taste of wine. The reddened tint draws your gaze, the soft little drop at the corner of his mouth is maddening.
Maddening because you want to brush it from his lips with your fingertips, no, even more than that. You want to draw your tongue across his waiting mouth, to kiss him till you both taste like the sour tang. Perhaps it would counter the sour in your stomach, seeping up your throat as you look away. The bile that rests there.
Look, you remind yourself. But do not touch. Still, when his eyes shift, they catch yours and the familiar heat of longing stirs in your stomach. How can you only look at him, he whose gaze captures your very soul—
“Namjoon.” The woman sitting next to him is quiet, hardly heard above the crowd of voices at dinner time, but you hear her just the same.
A reminder of the truth you won’t admit, the reason you can’t touch him. The prince is married, and you wouldn’t know him at all but for his wife.
“A-ah!” Some lady in waiting you are, shoved over the solid wood of his working table, the wet of fresh ink seeping into your chemise. Well—that’s a letter he’ll have to re-write, and you can’t help the sound in your throat as the grain of the wood digs into your cheek, his large hand pressed against your back, holding you to the table as he takes you.
Now he’s touching you, as is his right, a wry thought barely there as you’re lost in the pleasure of it all. Princes can take, can give, and what can you do?
Thank God for the blessing of this earthly sin? Thank God for Namjoon’s eyes, always searching yours out, for his roughened palms against your skin or the way he reads you stories of courtly love?
“I love you—“ It’s desperate, and soon enough you’ve shifted, facing him now, clinging to him as he cups your face, those lips you lose yourself to in daydreams hot against your own. “You. Only you.” And it makes your heart ache, to hear him like this, pained, urgent in the way he fucks you. In the way he spills into you.
“Namjoon.” Arms around his neck, your heavy breaths mingle together. “My heart is yours. Should they—should they rip it from my chest it would still only beat for you.” Here, he tastes like longing, long pent up desire, like sin and heaven all at once. Everything you aren’t allowed to have from him…and everything he willingly gives you.
“Hah.” He pants. “No, keep my heart here.” And his palm finds your chest, above your pounding heart. “Keep it here, here where I can hear it beating.”
“Ah, here, and not in the palm of your hand?” You can’t hide the longing in your voice - and he’s grinning, dimples making that same heart ache, especially when he twines his fingers with yours.
“No. But I’ll gladly let my heart rest in your palms.” He presses gentle kisses to your knuckles. “Payment for not being able to give you the rest of me.”
#bts#kim namjoon#bts drabble#namjoon drabble#historical romance#possumswrite#possumwrite#bts scenario#namjoon scenario#bangtansorciere#bangtan sonyeondan#bangtan fic#bangtan drabble
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By the time they got back into Diagon Alley, Harry had kissed Hermione a total of four times, and he was starting to get the hang of it. They held hands on the way back, and Hermione assured him that it was normal for their hands to get warm, and that she didn’t mind at all if they got sweaty or anything (prefaced by the fact that he kept releasing her hand to wipe his on his pants). Harry’s heart was still racing from their kiss, and he wasn’t sure if it would ever stop. He’d actually kissed Hermione. And he planned to do it more.
They found the Weasleys in Madam Malkins, with Ron milling about looking very annoyed about something. As soon as he saw them, his eyes widened. “Hey! There you two are!” His eyes flicked down to their joined hands. “I take it your date went well, then.”
“Yeah,” Harry said a little breathlessly. Hermione blushed. “Is everything all right?”
“No, it’s not,” Ron huffed. “Our supply list this year says we need dress robes.”
“What for?”
“No idea. Some sort of event. But of course, we can’t afford robes for everyone, so Mum’s trying to figure out who’s gonna get the hand-me-downs. Three guesses who. And believe me, Harry, I don’t want to be caught dead in those. They’re just all frills and lace and-” Ron shuddered.
“Ron, I can get you dress robes if you can’t afford all of them, honestly. I’ll buy yours.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Look, I’ve got more money than I know what to even do with. I’m more than willing to buy my best friend a set of dress robes, all right? I would have gotten you a new wand second year, only I didn’t even think about it. I still owe you.” Harry smirked softly.
“We had a deal!”
“You think I was going to let you off without paying you back somehow?”
“Mum will never let you buy anything for me.”
“Then I’ll buy two for myself in case I mess one up. You know I’m prone to doing that. Then you can say you borrowed it if your mum asks.”
Ron’s shoulders dropped. “You’re a lifesaver, Harry, honestly. I’d kiss you right now if that position wasn’t already taken.”
Hermione blushed further.
“Have you rendered her speechless? Blimey, Harry, you should have kissed her in first year.”
Full chapter on AO3 ->
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#harry potter#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#possumwrites#ao3#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#hermione granger#harmony#harry x hermione#harmione#goblet of fire#fluff#gof rewrite
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When the end of October rolled around, Harry and Hermione had been spending most of their evenings in the Room of Requirement, which Hermione confirmed by their location on the map when they left, sneaking to the fifth floor after everyone had gone. Hermione frequently complained about how useful this room would’ve been when she had the time turner, because it would have been great for doing homework. Harry did feel bad because he still hadn’t told Ron about the room at all. He knew he’d have to, and he’d been meaning to, the right opportunity had just never come up. He’d wanted to wait for a time when no one was around, which was rare, and he couldn’t just blurt it out, so he was waiting for relevant conversation, which was nearly impossible. He could just see it now - “yeah, Hermione and I have been spending our nights in a secret room that I haven’t told you about because it’s great to be alone”.
But it felt weird to be there without him. For years, it had always been the three of them - the trio . And as much as he loved spending alone time with Hermione, this felt like a weird sort of betrayal to be here without him. Not that he’d have a good time just spending his nights studying, but he had to be careful about this sort of thing. Ron had joked about being their third wheel over the summer, and Harry had promised him he didn’t have to worry about it. With Hermione’s head resting on his shoulder from where she’d fallen asleep in the middle of studying, though, it was beginning to feel like Ron had a point.
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#harry potter#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#possumwrites#ao3#hermione granger#harmione#harmony#harry x hermione#fluff#gobletoffire#gof#gofrewrite#gobletoffirerewrite
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There was a tradition that began the evening before her 19th birthday. Four months after the war, when she was still jumping at sudden noises, pulling out her wand when she didn’t need to, and still learning how to be with large groups of people again. The world was slowly starting to go back to a new normal, and as always, there was nowhere that felt more normal than at the Burrow.
It used to feel overwhelming sometimes, to be surrounded by that much family. When they were all together, she found herself missing the quiet of her parents’ house with just the three of them, eating dinner and talking about their days. The constant talking and bickering and physicality of the Weasleys made her brain feel like it was about to explode if she stayed there too long. Too much noise. Too many sounds. Too many people.
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#harry potter#hp#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#fanfic writer#fanfiction#fanfic#hermione granger#fred weasley#fremione#fred x hermione#ao3#possumwrites
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No matter how hard Hermione tried, the Room of Requirement could produce nothing on how to solve a maze.
“I know they’re not going to have the path laid out until the morning of, and I know they said the walls were going to change,” she complained to the trusty bookshelf, which had been proving to be helpful all year, “but surely there’s got to be something in there I can use.”
When nothing happened, Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and plopped back onto the couch next to Ron. Harry, on the other hand, was running through a textbook Moody had given him of advanced defensive spells to see if there was anything he wanted to learn. It was mid-April, so he had plenty of time to learn anything, but he felt like he’d gotten lucky with the last two tasks, and he knew this one was going to be more mentally draining. He’d never liked mazes.
“What if he just, like…” Ron’s hand moved straight out in front of him, “went through the sides, you know? Like blasted them away and cut straight to the center. Hermione, I know you know a spell for that.”
“That’s cheating!” Hermione scolded.
“I don’t think there are any rules, Hermione. That’s kind of the whole point,” Harry agreed.
“That’s not possible. That can’t be possible.” Hermione huffed, pulling one of the books off the shelf and frantically flipping through the pages. Whatever she was looking for wasn’t in there, so she tossed the book in the direction of the floor. Harry would have thought Hermione was mad to do that, but instead of hitting the floor, the book disappeared and reappeared in its spot of the shelf. “There’s been rules in every other task. There’s at least a rule that says you must participate, and a rule that has you forfeiting the tournament if you fail any of the tasks, why can’t there be a rule on… oh, wait a second.”
In Hermione’s hands, a book appeared out of thin air, A History of Wizarding Games. She brought it over the the couch and sat it in Harry’s lap. “Look through this to see if there have been any repeating tasks. And if there are, maybe there’s something in there about how the other person was able to get through it or what challenges they faced.”
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#harry potter#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#ao3#possumwrites#hermione granger#harmony#fanfiction#harmione#harry x hermione
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Harry had never been so nervous to start the school year. After the Quidditch World Cup, since there were only a couple weeks until the start of term, Hermione had asked the Weasleys if she could stay with them for the remainder of the summer, and of course, they’d agreed. It didn’t help Harry any, though. He hadn’t been able to get their moment in the tent out of his mind. Every time he looked at her over the table during breakfast the next morning, he’d think about the way her cheek felt against his fingers and the way she’d looked at him. The promise they’d made of a date (which, by the way, they hadn’t mentioned to Ron). The bet he’d agreed to in which after their date, Hermione would decide if she wanted to kiss him.
Kiss him.
Harry choked on his juice and Ron was quick to pat him on the back.
“You okay, mate?”
“Yeah,” Harry gasped when his breathing was back to normal. Hermione looked like she was fighting a laugh. Had it been that obvious what he was thinking about?
After breakfast, since everyone was still hyped up, Fred and George started ushering them all into the garden for a game of Quidditch before they could even get dressed, even inviting Ginny along. It was a nice morning that wasn’t too hot, with a little bit of cloud cover - Harry hated playing with the sun in his eyes anyway.
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Harry had been in the hospital wing more times than he could remember. He was shocked there wasn’t a plaque on the bed he usually ended up in. This time, however, when he had reluctantly walked in with Luna, their arms covered with a mixture of bright blue warts and boils, Madam Pomfrey immediately directed them to the isolation ward, making sure to stay several feet away at all times.
“What have you gotten yourself into this time, Potter?” she sighed, as she ushered them through the door and gestured for them to sit down on the beds. “You’re staying in here until we figure out what this is.”
“Oh, I know exactly what it is,” Luna piped up. “Harry and I were looking for Strawberry Cricket wings and ended up going through a nasty patch of Aching Dimbleweed. It’s very contagious.”
At Luna’s words, Madam Pomfrey paused her gathering of what potions she thought might help, looking to Harry for confirmation.
“Er, yeah that sounds right,” he replied. “It doesn’t hurt, though, just looks mad, so…” He wasn’t sure what else he could say, but Madam Pomfrey just nodded.
“Right. It sounds like I’ll need Professor Sprout. Are you two okay staying here by yourselves until we get back? And don’t leave . Or touch anything. Aching… Dimbleweed, you said?” Luna nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back in a pinch.”
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WIP Wednesday
Draco. Hermione said the name silently in her head. It seemed a fitting name for this man. "You didn't want help?" she asked, looking up at him.
He scoffed. "I don't think anyone will be able to fix it, that's all. That's what I told him, but he wouldn't listen. They were my parents' elves, technically. I've simply inherited them. They don't quite listen to me like they should."
"They shouldn't listen to anyone, Draco. They're creatures with free will."
#harry potter#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#ao3#possumwrites#hermione granger#dramione#draco malfoy#draco x hermione#dhr#dhrff#days in the sun#dits#wip#wip wednesday
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The morning of February 24th came before Harry even felt ready, but he didn’t know if he’d ever truly be ready for diving down into a freezing, vast lake to find something that had been taken from him. And worst of all, he didn’t even know what it was. He’d checked all of his possessions this morning just to make sure, and they were all in order. He’d even gotten Ron to check behind him.
What he did notice, on the other hand, was the fact that his girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t too worried, since he didn’t see her the morning of the first task either, and figured she was already in the library or the Room of Requirement trying to get some last-minute research done for anything they may have missed. Harry wasn’t in the mood for research, though. He wouldn’t be able to learn anything else now, not with his heart in his stomach at just the thought of stepping a toe into that water.
Luckily, he was armed with a wetsuit that Lia’s owl, Diana (along with about five others since she was too small to carry anything apart from a single letter) had dropped off the previous evening at dinner, already equipped with a wand holster and compartment with a handy pocket knife. “I figured it might be helpful in case you run into any crazy plants or something down there at the bottom,” she’d told him. He really couldn’t thank her enough. Before they left the common room, he also made sure to grab the jar of gillyweed Neville had gotten from Professor Sprout. Neville had instructed him not to eat it until right before the task began, and he knew better than to not listen.
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wrote a silly little fremione one-shot for @oneofthesirens as her secret santa this year!! i loved writing it so much and look forward to writing more fremione because this one really got me back into it!!
WC: 12,971
Rating: T
Preview:
Fred had never felt second to Ron in his entire life. Not until now. Not until he saw Hermione hanging off Ron’s arm following the final battle and not his own.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Hermione was supposed to realize how much everyone meant to her, not just Harry and Ron, and she’d come to realize how much everyone else cared about her, too. How much he cared about her.
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#harry potter#hp#harry potter fanfic#fanfiction#hp fanfiction#hp fanfic#hermione granger#fred weasley#fremione#fred and hermione#fred x hermione#possumwrites
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Break
#vss365 prompt 5/23/22
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Word Count: 1,554
Rating: T
Hermione never ate lunch in the break room anymore. It was always too crowded, too busy, too social. Someone always wanted to talk to her, and it was usually about work. Just because she was in front of them and technically available, she deserved a break as much as the next person. Probably more, if she was being honest. She’d been staying late most nights to skim back over reports without the distractions of every member of the DMLE calling her for opinions on cases she didn’t even know anything about. She’d snapped at Harry a couple times before she’d realized it was him.
A couple weeks prior, she had discovered an empty office on the way to use the restroom when the closest one to her office was being cleaned. It was a door she didn’t remember seeing before, but when she made the effort to take trips by it the following day to see who was using it, she never saw anyone. At least it would be different scenery from eating in her own office.
The past few days had brought her peace she hadn’t felt at work in a long time. She could eat without disturbance, and even bring a book in there if she wanted to do some reading while she had the chance. Once she came to a stopping point, she grabbed her lunch bag, tucked a book under her arm, and slipped away to the empty office. This time, though, it wasn’t empty.
“No,” Hermione groaned before she could realized it, slumping against the door frame as Draco looked up at her from the desk. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Good to see you too, Granger.” He set his sandwich down and wiped his hands on a napkin. They had been working together for a little over a year and did their best to avoid each other during the day, which had seemed to work pretty well so far. It was just easier to stay away. “How’d you manage to find me?”
“Find you?! I’ve been having lunch here for over a week now and I’ve been by myself every single time. How’d you manage to find me?” She sighed, but conjured up another chair across from him to plop down in, setting out her own sandwich on the desk.
“That’s why I haven’t seen you lately, then.”
“Yes, well, I get very tired of talking about work when I’m just trying to have a meal. I’m hoping that I can at least leave at a decent time today.”
“That would be nice. I won’t mention it, then. We can just eat.”
Hermione nodded, tucking into her sandwich while he did the same. But she couldn’t stop looking up at him every few seconds. He looked different for some reason today. “Is that a new tie?”
“This one?” He glanced down at it. “No, I just haven’t worn it in a while. Do you like it?”
“It’s nice.”
“Do you want to wear it?”
“What?”
“You heard me. It would look good with that blouse.”
Hermione looked down at herself. She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “No it wouldn’t.”
“Without it, then?”
She nearly choked on her drink in shock. While she was covering her mouth and trying to breathe through her nose, Draco was sitting across the desk, forearms resting on the top like he had asked her what the weather was going to be on Saturday. Once she recovered, she gave him an incredulous stare, but the spark in his eyes was undeterred, and she couldn’t help the warmth making its way down her chest. “Draco, we’re at work...”
“I didn’t hear a no.”
Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the door. No one had walked by in the entire time they were there, and she was sure that with a couple of charms, no one would even know they were in there. As soon as she thought about it, the door swung closed and locked, and a film appeared over the small window to keep away any prying eyes. Hermione swallowed and looked back across the desk.
“You said you wanted a break, didn’t you?”
“This isn’t exactly what I meant,” she said a little breathlessly. Draco’s fingers were slowly pulling at the knot on his tie, loosening it just enough to slide it over his head. Hermione was frozen to her chair - whether it was from nervousness or excitement, she wasn’t sure. Surely someone would walk in. Admittedly, she’d thought about this before, but now that the opportunity had come, the nerves were threatening to take over.
Draco quirked his eyebrows up, ushering her to the other side of the desk with a single finger. She couldn’t help but obey. Draco wheeled his chair out to make just enough room for her to sit on the desk in front of him. In this position, she was a just a little less than a head taller than him, and it was admittedly a nice view. Silently, the smirk on his face seemingly permanent, the tie found its way around her, resting warmly against the back of her neck from where he’d had it on all day.
“Doesn’t look too bad after all, does it?” His fingers wrapped around a stray curl, pulling it straight before letting it go and watching it bounce back into place. Hermione could even think properly with the way he was touching her and looking at her. Draco took a long, slow look up and down her body. “Have I told you how amazing you look?”
“N-No,” she managed, swallowing hard as his hand trailed over the side of her thigh before taking the tie in his palm.
“Well, you do. You always do.”
He had her pulled down for a kiss before she could even protect, and her hands quickly found purchase and balance on his shoulders. His cologne flooded her nose as the taste of peanut butter lingered on his tongue. It was utterly intoxicating, and the fact that it was certainly something she shouldn’t be doing on her lunch break had her heart thumping against her ribs. His free hand grabbed her waist, bunching her shirt between his fingers.
She wasn’t sure how long they’d been kissing, whether it was seconds or minutes or hours, but every nerve felt like it was on fire, and the urge to start shedding layers was getting harder to ignore. He seemed to have the same thought, too, because he roughly pulled her towards him by the tie.
Any further plan of action was immediately halted as the heel of Hermione’s shoes caught on the carpet and Draco trying to get her onto his lap turned into her falling on top of him, leaning them back in the chair so suddenly that the wheels flew out from underneath it and they were falling with a loud thud as the back of the chair (and incidentally, Draco) hit the floor with Hermione landing in a flail of arms on top of him.
“Fuck,” Draco groaned, leaning up on his elbows while Hermione propped herself up with her hands.
“Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” She’d ended up straddling him, but that didn’t even matter. Hermione moved to squat next to him, using the edge of the desk for support and immediately running a hand over Draco’s forehead. “Is your back okay?”
To her surprise, though, Draco started laughing. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I don’t believe the chair is, though.” As he scooted to the side, it was clear that the plastic supports were cracked and the seat was bent at a weird angle, even on the ground.
“I told you last night it wouldn’t hold both of us,” Hermione managed with a smile once she was sure Draco wasn’t hurt. “I also told you it probably wouldn’t work with a rolling chair, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to brag. You’re usually right.”
“Usually?”
“Yes. Usually,” he defended, standing up and stretching his back before helping Hermione to her feet. “Hope I didn’t ruin your lunch break.”
“The only one that was ruined was yours. I’m sorry, though.” She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Just means we need to practice more at home.”
“Maybe with one of the bar stools instead of the office chair?”
“Height instead of wheels. That’s not much safer. What’s wrong with the couch?”
“The couch has seen it all already. Might as well give some other furniture a chance to shine.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, nudging Draco’s shoulder as they walked back to her office. Once they got there, Draco leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
“Same time tomorrow, then?”
“Sadly, I don’t think the fantasy is quite what I expected,” she sighed. “But if you leave me alone, I can be home earlier, remember? Then we can put some cushioning charms on the whole flat and do whatever you want with the bar stools.”
“I’m absolutely holding you to that,” Draco replied with a smirk. “I’ll see you later?”
“Don’t you dare tell Harry about this.”
He smiled into one last kiss before heading back to his office, and it wasn’t until Hermione looked in the mirror in the bathroom that she realized she was still wearing his tie.
#vss365#dramione#draco malfoy#hermione granger#harry potter#hp#hp fanfic#fanfiction#draco x hermione#drabble#possumwrites#dramione drabble#dramione fanfic
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