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Draco kisses Hermione

The first kiss of Draco and Hermione on the beach during a thunderstorm, commission art for Russian-language fanfic ("Прометеус" by Конфета без сахара)

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@academia-lucifer

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i love writing. i also would rather be doing literally anything else

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💚❤️

{ AO3 } { FF }

Summary: Draco Malfoy hates Christmas. So when his boss asked him to head a project over the holidays, he was more than happy to oblige. Hermione Granger loves Christmas. But she really needs that promotion, so when her boss asks her to tag along, she accepts the job. 

Coworkers with a questionable history snowed in at an Inn over Christmas. Will he fall in love with Christmas? Will she fall in love with him?

Part 2 coming tomorrow. Happy Holidays!

Excerpt: 

In the driver’s seat, looking infinitely more comfortable now that she was degloved and descarfed, Hermione was toying with the radio. It was clear she was searching for something specific - she had already passed several stations playing variations of the same nonsensical music.

She kept turning one of the many switches that did Merlin-knows-what until she found a dreadfully cheery tune sung by a child - Draco listened to the words carefully - whose adulterous mother apparently got caught kissing a man named.. Santa Claus.

Draco tried to bear it, he truly did, but he lasted only a few rounds of the overly repetitive chords and the ridiculous lyrics before he’d had enough.

He reached for the same knob she’d used and turned the sound off.

Her head whipped around so fast, he was surprised she hadn’t injured herself. She kept glancing back and forth between the road and her passenger, her brows furrowed in annoyance. Understanding her wordless furry was because of him, Draco explained -

“I don’t do Christmas carols.”

She turned the sound back on.

“It’s December 23rd, it’s snowing outside, and you don’t do Christmas carols? Of all times to do Christmas carols, it’s right now!”

“Look, I’m studying my notes for our assignment, okay? And I can’t do that with some Muggle woman singing in my ear about who she is snogging at Christmas.”

He turned the sound off once more.

“Bahumbug,” Hermione mumbled under her breath.

“Bless you,” Draco replied.

#dramione #hermione x draco #draco x hermione #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dramione fanfic #dhr fic #dhr #hp

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How am I supposed to write dialogue if I don’t even talk to people in real life

#writing woes

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Seven years after, I see you again 😚

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8th year 💚♥️

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This vibe >>

All images are from pinterest

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Sometimes writing is like having an enormous lake in your head, and you want to get it out of your head and into a proper place for a lake so other people can come and go swimming and ride jet skis and stuff, except all you have to move the lake is a teaspoon. So you’re just sitting there frantically flinging water out of the lake with your teaspoon and telling people, “Guys, this lake is going to be so cool when it’s done,” but it will never be done. There is so much lake.

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Reposting to say this ficlet has been translated into Russian thanks to @dashawry! Check out some of her other translations in the link below:

Read in { English } { Russian }

Word Count: 2,400+

TW: dark themes/signs of abuse/unwilling confinement - AU Voldy Wins (ACOTAR inspired)

“What a… precarious situation you’ve found yourself in, Granger.”

Hermione’s head snapped toward the stranger’s voice and watched in disbelief as Draco Malfoy strolled into her dungeon, toying with a set of keys in his hands. She caught glimpses of his face as he passed the dimly lit candles that hung in intervals against the wall. His blonde hair, almost white in its hue, was groomed and neat, his suit so immaculate it looked wrong within the filth of this prison, so black that he resembled a shadow more than a man. He wore an expression that Hermione couldn’t quite place.

She looked around for the guards, who were meant to be watching her, but they were gone from their usual post. Now that she thought about it, it’d been a while since she’d heard the stomp of their boots on the stone floor.

It didn’t take Draco long before he reached the bars of her cell. He peered down at where Hermione sat on the floor, her shackles clinging miserably at her sides.

She tried to remember how long she’d been held captive - at first, she’d been counting her days locked down here, but she’d lost interest after the tenth day. That must’ve been at least three days ago she stopped etching marks into the wall.

She was suddenly very aware of how she must look to him. Dirt and grime was visible on every inch of her exposed skin. The clothes they’d given her - made of a rough material and hardly covered her modestly - were also caked in dirt.

She tried not to let him see her weakness. She sat up straighter, using the wall to keep her from slumping over. She knew her face must be gaunt from her hunger, but her meals, which appeared magically twice a day, were table scraps at best and did little to stave her appetite. She became stoic as Malfoy looked down at her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her desperation.

“What do you want,” she nearly spat at him. Hatred coursed through her at the sight of him so close.

He clicked his tongue at her. “Now, now. That’s no way to speak to your rescuer.”

Her ‘rescuer’ was a war criminal - a sympathizer to a powerful wizard, responsible for the deaths of hundreds, possibly thousands. If it were her dying wish, she only wanted some power back in her feeble bones to maul whatever part of him she could reach.

With the key in his hands, Draco unlocked her cell door and walked in, pulling it back behind him with a *click*. The power dynamic wasn’t lost on her - she sat, half clothed and freezing on the ground while he stood tall above her, with the literal keys to her freedom now jingling in his pocket.

He knelt in front of her and all she could do was pull against her chains in a futile attempt to free herself from his pitying gaze.

“Your taunting is cruel, Malfoy,” she said through clenched teeth. It was useless to point out his cruelty, though. He knew who he was. “Here to finish the job yourself?”

She could see his face more clearly, now that he was mere inches away from her. His grey eyes were a pool of ice, as cold as his heart.

“You jump to conclusions too freely,” Draco tutted. “I’m only here to make you an offer.” He contemplated something for a moment before adding, “Or rather, a request in exchange for your freedom.”

#dramione #dhr #dramione drabbles #dhr drabbles #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione fanfic #dhr fic #hp

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Entry for @dramioneartbook from December ‘22.

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“May I have this dance?”

Another Pretend Date Drabble Because I Have No Self Control

Hermione x Draco (x Ron)

Warnings: bittersweet story/not exactly a HEA/pining Draco

“Decided to go stag again, I see?”

Draco, who had been slumped quite unattractively in his chair, turned from his table to see Granger approaching, taking confident strides across the Ballroom.

Typical of her to catch him in his most unsightly moments. He stood from his seat, bringing his glass of firewhisky with him.

“Of course,” he said, holding the drink to his chest in an attempt to make himself seem more aloof, “You wouldn’t believe the number of women I had to turn down just to come to this thing alone.”

He took in the sight of his coworker - for whom he had not been waiting, honestly - and in response, promptly shut his jaw which had boldly dropped open, like an admission to the entire assembly of Ministry personnel here that he had feelings for Hermione Granger.

Which he did not.

Keep reading

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The voice in your head is lying to you. You are capable of creating a captivating story.

If not today, then tomorrow. Or three years from now. The point is — practice, practice, practice. Write, write, write. You are good enough. AND YOU ARE ALLOWED TO TRY.

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Hotel de La Marine, Parigi. 

Credit : Antonio Martinelli