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pixydustworld · 1 year

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The clock above the fireplace read 11:35pm. 25 minutes until midnight. They had exactly 25 minutes to consummate their marriage.

Hermione wondered how the ministry would know if her shiny new husband didn't come inside her.

She drank more champagne.

“It doesn't have to be painful.” Malfoy said, staring above her head at the wall, seeming eager to over analyze the wallpaper, “There are ways for it to be.” He took a deep breath. “Enjoyable.”

“I’ve had sex before.” Hermione said.

“You have?” His voice was a touch surprised.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“Loads of times.” Hermione scoffed (three times, to be specific, and it had been almost a year since the last time) “I’m an expert.”

Malfoy had the audacity to look relieved. “Good.” He said, “I’m glad you’ve had pleasurable experiences. When — when, we, consummate — ”

“Fuck.” Hermione said at the same time as him.

“— fuck,” Malfoy practically hissed, “Just. Just think of them.”

Hermione nodded. “Right.” She said, “Sure.” He was staring at her. Waiting for something; her permission, perhaps. “You can think about other people, too.”

The first time she’d had sex, Harry had been soft, if not a little too gentle. In the tent, surrounded by darkness and the ever present promise of death, their fumbling hands had met. It hadn’t been painful, but it hadn’t been overly pleasant, either. It just had been them.

The second time she’d had sex, Ron had been eager to please her, but it had felt off. Like a sneeze that wouldn’t come, like an itch just below her reach — overall, it had been unremarkable and unfortunately for her and Ron’s budding romance, a little unsettling.

The third, and subsequently final time, Hermione had decided that she needed to stop having sex with immediate members of her very small friend group, and Seamus Finnigan had been happy to oblige her.

In the middle, he’d gotten a leg cramp and accidentally headbutted her.

She’d gotten a bloody nose, and Seamus still wasn’t able to make eye contact with her without cringing.

Then, the marriage law had been announced, and Hermione had been too swept up in writing motions and testifying in court to worry about the elusiveness of her own sex life.

“Did you ever think you’d get married?” Hermione asked to rupture the silence that had stretched on for a bit too long. It seemed like a fitting question to ask, given their predicament. “I was never sure.”

Malfoy smiled and Hermione felt her stomach twist. This would all be much easier if he wasn't so handsome. “It was never my choice.” He said, “I always knew I’d marry someone my father chose for me. Perhaps that’s why I accepted all this — the lack of choice, that is something I’m familiar with.”

“You, however, fought to the bitter end.” He continued, “very valiantly, I might add. As is your nature.”

“It didn't work.” Hermione said softly. Admitting defeat to Draco Malfoy never seemed possible before — but now? It felt almost inescapable, the partnership that was materializing between them. Like the golden thread of fate was tightening around their wrists.

“You’ll figure out a way to make them suffer.”

“Not my nature,” Hermione said, finishing her glass of champagne, “That’s yours.”

The clock read 11:40pm. It seemed they could no longer avoid fate.

“If we don’t consummate,” Malfoy was saying, voice sounding far away, “And the punishment is a fine, I can pay it. I won’t pretend I’m not above bribery, either. I — we — have a lot of money. Perhaps we could buy the Minister an island? Do you think he’d like that?”

“Harry said the punishment was prison time.”

“Hm.”

Hermione stood from her chair by the fire and smoothed the nightgown over her legs, fingers trembling slightly. “Thank you,” She said, “For offering to pay a fine for me. And for hypothetically bribing the minister of magic with an island. But I think — I think this is just unavoidable. We’ll be okay.”

He smiled again, soft like the fuzzy clouds at sunrise. Hermione had never really noticed how his smile changed his entire face. “Yes,” he said, watching as she moved across the room, “We’ll be just fine.”

She lay down on the bed, closer to him now then she had been in years. The last time they’d touched had been when he’d clutched her shoulders the day of the trials, fingers tight around her flesh. When he’d apologized to her in that dimly lit hallway, tears tracking down his cheeks, uncaring of who saw.

Hermione found dwelling on the past did no one any good, but for once, she was glad he’d done so; if only for the growth that accompanied him with the passage of time.

Glad, that if this was going to happen, she would face the future with this version of Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy shifted, looming above her, his fingers finding the strap of her nightgown, twisting the fabrics softly before firmly pressing his hands on either side of her body. The mattress refused to creak, the only sound in the room their soft breaths.

“On or off?”

He waited politely for her answer, but his hands betrayed his tension, clutching almost angrily at the sheets, in danger of ripping them. Rich people, Hermione thought, could afford to rip their sheets. They could simply buy new ones.

“On.” Hermione said in a thick voice.

“On.” Malfoy agreed. “I’m going to touch you now.”

“Yes.” Hermione wished she was someone brighter, someone like Ginny or even Lavender. If they’d been assigned Malfoy, the room wouldn’t feel so thick and heavy. They’d be able to smile — they wouldn’t be frozen beneath him, skin as rigid as the bones underneath. “Alright.”

“You’re so much smaller up close.” Malfoy murmured, surprising both of them. “From afar, it’s easy to convince myself you’re a titan, towering above us mortals. But here, I think it’s undeniable.”

“I was taller when we were kids.” Was the response Hermione decided to give him. “Do you remember? I used to be taller than Harry.”

“I remember.” His thumb was rubbing circles against the top of her thigh. Just touching the skin, nothing scandalous, but Hermione felt a bit like a puritan seeing ankles for the first time.

“Do you think our child will be tall?” She asked, “Like you are?”

His touch faltered for a bit, a crack appearing in his perfect facade. For a moment, his eyes were bright, hungry. Then, he resumed his lazy touch, fingers slowly tracing down her legs, beneath her nightgown.

“I hope they inherit all your goodness.” Malfoy said roughly, “And they inherit all my height.”

Hermione had never thought about being a mother, never considered that a possibility — she certainly had never expected to become a parent with Draco Malfoy. But a life with Harry had inadvertently prepared Hermione to adapt to her environment, like those frogs that change genders.

“I’ll need to stretch you a bit.” Malfoy was saying, sliding down her body. Hermione wondered when she should start calling him Draco. Surely, soon, with the home he'd seemed to have made for himself between her thighs. “Please, just try to relax.”

“Right.”

His hot breath on her center was the only warning Hermione received before he was licking her, tongue twisting its way inside her cunt, thumb lazily rubbing her clit. She was wet, not an embarrassing amount, but not enough for him to grunt his approval, the vibration sending a shudder skittering up her spine.

“Oh,” she gasped, hips squirming against his hold, “Wha — what are you doing?”

“Shh,” he hushed her, words mumbled against her cunt, “It’s rude to interrupt.”

Then, he closed his lips around her clit and sucked, his sloppy noises filling the room. Distantly, Hermione heard someone babbling, broken cries and unfinished sentences — it took a moment to realize that voice was her own. Heat, like fire, like a dragon, spread across her body.

He was pressing her to his face, fingers digging into her flesh; each time she withered away from his tongue, his lips, even his teeth, his grip tightened, an arm pressed against the flesh of her stomach.

Finally, finally, finally, she felt one his fingers slip across her folds, sliding through the wetness. Malfoy’s fingers were so much thicker than her own, entering her with a bluntness she wasn’t accustomed to, twisting her open. Fucking her slowly, with no clear intention of quickening his pace.

“After the war,” Malfoy said, licking up her cunt with leisure, “When we were at school, I wanted to be near you every second. It was like waking up and realizing I could actually see the sun.”

She remembered, even now, through her trembling limbs, how he’d looked at her during their 8th year. It hadn’t been a predator's gaze, but one of blatant observation. Like he was truly seeing her for the first time; finally allowing himself to look.

“What a gift it is.” He murmured against her, a second finger sliding to join the first, a pleasant burn beginning to overtake Hermione, bubbling over the surface, spreading across her flesh, “The privilege to bask in your warmth.”

He devoured her until she came with a wail, on an exhale, head tossed back. Hermione twisted and twisted and twisted away, but his hold was firm. It hadn’t been like that with the others, rarely, it had even been like that with herself.

“Will that be enough?” She sniffed.

He pulled his cock out for her to see.

“Three fingers, then.” Hermione said, voice unsteady.

It was 11:53pm by the time he’d stretched her to his liking.

“Hermione.”

Hermione jerked at the use of her first name. “Yes?” She hiccuped.

He squinted up at her, hair falling over his eyes. He really looked like a stupid fairytale prince, even now, with his face glistening, wet with her, it was completely unfair. “Think of someone else. It’ll help this part.”

To her credit, Hermione tried to follow his directions.

Visions of Harry’s eyes morphed into gray, Ron’s arms around her torso tightened, the way she imagined he would clutch her to his chest — Seamus’s moans grew deeper, like his voice.

It seemed all roads led back to Draco Malfoy, and Hermione was too tired to contemplate the importance of that realization.

Earlier, he’d called her valiant. Brave. Said it was part of her nature, woven into her bones. If she had nothing left, she’d still have her bravery. Perhaps, it was time to use the courage everyone insisted she possessed.

“I’m not thinking of anyone else.”

Malfoy looked like someone had shot him. “What?”

“I’m not thinking of anyone else.” Hermione repeated loudly. Maybe he had a minor head cold and was having difficulty hearing her, “I’m thinking about you.”

“But I told you to think of the others.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I’m not a dog.” Hermione scoffed. “I don’t blindly follow your orders.”

She ignored the way he smiled at her.

She felt him then, between her legs. Warm and heavy, a weight on her thigh, a promise for what was to come. “I’m,” Malfoy looked upset, angrier than before with the sheets, “I’m sorry that this happened. That it’s me.”

“I’m not.” The orgasms had loosened her limbs, a crack across a frozen pond; speaking to him seemed easier now, less world shattering. “I’m glad it’s you. I’ve fucked both my friends, it��s only natural that I’d carry on to my enemies next.”

“You think I'm your enemy?”

“No,” She sighed, “I think you’re my husband.”

“Say that again.”

“Husband.” She repeated. “You are my husband.”

“And you are my wife.”

Earlier cowardice forgotten, Hermione smiled up at him, all teeth. Malfoy blinked, like someone had turned on the lights. “ I’ve thought about you fucking me before.” She said softly, “Have you thought about me?”

Malfoy groaned, like he was in pain. “Constantly,” he said. “An agonizing amount. It’s time for me to fuck a baby into you. I’ll fill you up, alright? Will you let me?”

Hermione managed a confident nod.

The feel of all of him, tossed her head back.

Unfair, completely unfair, that this experience belonged to him, when already so many parts of her were his, too. His ownership over her mind had been a subtle acquisition, but this new feeling, the one burning through her, seemed to happen all at once.

“Such a good girl,” Malfoy grunted, “allowing me between your thighs.”

Then, he began to move, and the entire world seemed to tilt off axis.

Everything seemed to melt away, all that remained was Draco, the drag of his cock inside her.

She weakly clutched his arm when his fingers slid to her clit again, rubbing slow, agonizing circles. He smiled at the tears that stuck to her eyelashes, and it was a little mean.

“I won’t last,” he managed to say, “come on my cock, that’s a good girl, let me feel it.”

She felt when he came inside of her, heat spreading across her stomach. Winced slightly, when he kept fucking her, soft thrusts, fucking his cum deeper inside her.

“Have to make it stick.” He slurred.

“We can try again.” Hermione sighed, finally allowing her fingers to drag through his hair. Soft, softer than she thought it’d be — felt him twitch inside of her when she spoke. Wondered if her voice alone had the power to bring him to his knees.

“Has no one ever made you come before?” He hummed, “Does that job only belong to your husband?”

“You’ve never had a job in your life.”

She felt his smile against her skin. “Then I’ll need lots of practice.”

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ectoheart · 1 year

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Decided to start posting some nsfw artwork on twitter so find me there! 🔥

#dramione #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dramione fanart #dhrtwt #🤞hoping this doesn't get 🚩#mio #dramione mio #hp mio #myart

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lolovestoread · 9 months

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New Beginnings

Originally posted on twt

8th year Dramione

He sees her.

He sees the way her smiles doesn’t reach her eyes. How as soon as she thought no one was looking she deflated. The bags under her eyes.

He sees her, because after the war he was just like her. Drained.

So when he showed up to Kings Cross ready to embark on his 8th year at Hogwarts, he looked for her.

He knew she’d be alone. Her friends having decided to use the experience of war to enter the workforce, but she returned. She had returned for 8th year just like he had.

And he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time.

“Excuse me,” he knocked on the compartment door trying not to startle the curly haired beauty “all of the other compartments are full. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

She looked up at him without saying anything. Waiting to see what would happen next. So he took the leap.

He stuck his hand out with a smile. “Hi, I’m Draco Malfoy. It’s nice to meet you.” And she smiled.

A true, genuine smile that reached her eyes.

“Hermione Granger.” She replies as she grips his hand to shake. “You’re welcome to join me. I don’t mind.”

He knew he had a lot to apologize for, but it was a start. A chance that Draco was not going to pass up. So they spent the ride to Scotland discussing the upcoming year. They even started to draft study schedules after realizing they had similar schedules.

This was his fresh start. He would help return the smile to her eyes. Little did he know, but she would be his redemption. His light and his love. Just like he would be for her.

//fin.

#dramione #fanfic #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dhrtwt #dramione drabble #8th year

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viridianphile · 1 year

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7th yr., dramione, fluff, rivals, down bad Draco

Draco just wants to sleep in his quarters, skip his classes and dream and dream and dream.

He hates seeing his classmates, hates their mindless talk about who fancies who, and most of all hates having to see her in flesh.

As she shoots up a know-it-all hand, starts parting her plump lips to answer, her annoying voice reverberating around his skull, he might as well combust on the spot.

Especially if he has to deal with his problem. This particular problem, he figured, the only way to solve it is to sleep it all away.

Which he did, but to make matters worse, he sees her in his dreams, EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. TIME.

And things always end up the turn for the worse. Always the worse (for lack of better word). He gets to wake up with the lingering thought of her in his newly minted state of wakefulness and a raging hard-on.

It is a problem, yes indeed.

Which begs the question, why does Draco Lucius Malfoy want to sleep and sleep and sleep?

It is obvious really, he’s definitely infatuated with her, his subconscious unconsciously dreaming of her.

But quite literally, in vulgarized fashion; Draco Lucius Malfoy lusts for Hermione Jean Granger.

And he doesn’t want to admit it yet.

“Draco, fuck you, wake up,”

He groans in his sleep.

Theo slapped the supple cheek of his bare arse “Look at that fucking kinky arse! I bet you fell asleep touching yourself all day thinking of Granger. Is that why you didn’t go to class yesterday?”

Draco immediately springs up, head still groggy and confused. Theo mussed his already messy bed hair, “I understand mate, the snakes understand,” he tuts compassionately.

“Understand wha—?” Malfoy blinks, until everything dawned upon him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Not?!”

Theo raises his palms up defensively.

“Uh—your girl’s waiting for you, and I being your faithful wingman came to pick you up and tell her your undying love,” he then places a diplomatic hand over his heart solemnly.

“My girl? Which girl? What girl?” Draco aka “completely lost” Malfoy throws the dark haired boy a skeptical look,”Last time I checked I was single with an idiot henchman for a best friend”

“Merlin to Draco, it’s Granger, the love of your life? She literally confessed her love for you in front of the whole class under the influence of a veritaserum”

“You’ve got to be kidding”

“No. You missed the chance to witness the legendary confession of the swot to her equally swotty rival”

Malfoy must be dreaming, that couldn’t be real. Theo can’t be real, this must be another dream. Granger’s involved, *again*, so it has to be, right?

He was lost for words, staring into space. Until he slapped himself to reality.

*Holy shit that hurt*

“So then what?” excitement assaults his nerves but apprehension devoured the rest of it.

“Then fly away my little butterfly, spread your wings and chase for the nectar of your dreams! Go before she changes her mind!”Theo spreads his arms dramatically, he has the spunk for theater.

Draco hurriedly gathers himself to leave but reaches back towards his henchman, “Wait, fuck, give me your pants.”

Oh right, he forgot.

Draco swiftly accio’d Theo’s pants and quickly fastened himself to decency. Theo merely let him and pats a proud father’s hand on Draco.

“Go my little soldier, this is your war—“before Theo finishes, Draco already left the chambers to chase for Granger, his dearest rival and apparently…the love of his life?

***

“Granger!”

“Malfoy?”

Granger stops in her tracks while Draco collects himself until he’s back in proper circulation.

One huge gulp of air and he’s back on his knees, a look on Granger and he’s a pathetic flustering idiot. But backing down isn’t an option and so…

“You…you fractured me to my undoing. My soul cripples at the mere thought of you. You make me lose my mind, the greatest tragedy of mine. Granger…I think I might be also in love with you…”

Hermione blinked, eyes wide. What did she just hear? If this what they call…a confession?

But seriously, from Malfoy? Her rival? The bane of her existence? The annoying fly who pests her academic endeavors, everywhere she goes?

But a pretty handsome fly too though…

An unexpected blush creeps up to her cheeks, and wait a minute…what’s with this sudden burst of emotion? Why is he looking at her like he’s about to beg on his knees for her?

He’s absurd. His unnecessarily poetic monologue’s absurd…too sudden. And are those Theo’s dress pants he’s wearing?

“Malfoy…what…I…are you serious?”

This Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, suddenly lacked the sense to speak.

Draco stops, his heart taking a sudden lurch.

“But..Theo..”

Hermione’s pulse flutters.

“What about Theo, hmm?”

He just realized.

“I’m gonna kill that fucking bastard”

That jerk tricked him.

And surprisingly it worked.

(End)

#dhr drabble #dhr fanfiction #dramione #dramione prompts #dhrtwt #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #dramione fic #hermione granger #incorrect dramione #harrypotter #dramione fandom #dramione fanart #dramione one shot #draco fluff #dramione imagine

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cyprus-green · 9 months

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Hello Twt Friends 🥺

#twitter #twitterpocalypse #x #elmo #dhrtwt #dhr #draco/hermione #dramione #dramione prompt #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #fanfic #soc fic #dramionefic #dramione fandom #dhr fic

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turpinsimp-blog · 1 year

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Just the tip. - we all know it's never just the tip

Full spicy panels are on TWITTTER

#Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger #hermione x draco #dramione #dhr #dhr fandom #dhrtwt #slytherin #gryffindor #harry potter fanart #digital drawing

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darbyfrance · 1 year

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hey tumblr, long time no see.

for all my friends on dhrtwt who are migrating here, hey! this is darbyfrance8. i’ll be changing my profile here shortly to reflect that.

to all my carry on besties who i made and then promptly neglected by never opening this app, hello, lovely to see you again.

cheers to new beginning on an app i do not understand.

#dhrtwt #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #rip twitter

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timelessdhr · 10 months

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hello it's @timelessdhr migrating from twt

looking for dhr moots (with a dash of reylo and darklina)

i am Timeless Hermione's lawyer, hmu if you're reading Timeless so we can cry together

#dramione #dhrtwt #dramionetwt #reylo #darklina #looking for moots

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vuldromeda · 1 year

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the problem with me as that in my heart i'm a funky little twink so the second i think about danger days i go entirely feral

#mcr #danger days #look its about the fashion #but also the concept of the entire album #the fact that its about love and corruption and fighting to the bitter end #to the dhrtwt ppl: imagine the opportunities of a danger days dhr ff #text post #vul speaks

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dhr-ao3 · 1 year

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OOC

OOC https://ift.tt/uNwO6Q3 by rizzlewrites Hermione Granger is pissed as hell. She's just been informed by her father that she will not be appointed the next head of the Gryffindor Group when he retires. Instead, the coveted position goes to her Cousin Cormac, a man with a pet peacock and no prior experience. At her father’s 60th birthday celebration in Paris, the female CEO of Black Inc. encourages Hermione to take a more strategic approach to get what she wants…and to have some fun while she’s at it. That night, Hermione decides to do something completely out of character. She ends up alone in a room with a tall, tattooed, impossibly gorgeous stranger who provides her with the most memorable 30-45 minutes of her life. (DhrTwt gift to celebrate 5k). Words: 2422, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Cormac McLaggen, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Mafia AU, Original Characters - Freeform, Anthony and Catherine Granger, obnoxious wealth, adorable bodyguards, attemped child kidnapping, Gun Violence, Confident Hermione, age-gap Dramione, Morally Grey Hermione, Paris (City), international characters, Draco has tattoos, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, unapologetic Hermione, Sexually confident Hermione, main characters are allergic to vulnerability, Karaoke, Narcissa is a LadyBoss, organised crime, women in leadership positions, mafia parties, French, Older Draco, enthusiastic blowjobbing, Co-workers, no beta we die like overworked capitalist drones via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/xWZ34iB December 23, 2022 at 02:26AM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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pixydustworld · 8 months

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Being married, Hermione supposed, was a lot like being dead. Lonely and unending — but the most prominent similarity, inescapable.

The ring on her finger was heavy and ancient, a cluster of emeralds that managed to sparkle under any light, and carved in the center of the band were two letters: DM

Exactly seven weeks before, Hermione had entered her cramped office on the 4th floor of the Ministry of Magic, and found Draco Malfoy sitting at her desk.

“You’re wasting away here,” Malfoy had said as a greeting, “Working to build a future that no one believes in. You’ll never accomplish what you wish.” He’d glanced up at her, eyes “Not without me.”

They certainly weren't friends, not even acquaintances — none of their recent interactions (a tight-lipped smile as they passed each other in the hall, a shared look over the Atrium when Cormac McLaggen had tripped and fell headfirst into the fountain) warranted an unannounced office visit, nor did it explain why Draco Malfoy, of all people, felt comfortable enough to sit in her chair.

Perhaps sensing her annoyance, Malfoy had continued talking, which in turn, only annoyed Hermione further. “I’ve been thinking about this future you speak so passionately of, the one where we all have space to belong. I’d like to help you bring it to life.”

“Why.” Not a question, more comparable to a demand.

“You are the answer, Granger, to all of this. The Ministry doesn’t care about your ideas.”

“And you do?” Hermione hadn’t bothered to keep the incredulousness from her voice.

He had shrugged.“I care about a better world.”

At the flat look she gave him, Malfoy had amended his statement: “For Teddy,” he’d said with more sincerity than Hermione had originally thought he could ever possess, “I want him to have a better life than I did.”

The war had been terrible, like a rot that spread through the cool earth, it had touched everyone — and after the dust had settled, Hermione had come to the conclusion that she held no authority over how others healed, and in turn, how they grew.

Harry had settled into something softer, finding solace in gardening and lazy afternoons, Ron chased thrills, tumbling from one danger to the next, but Malfoy had surprised her most of all, with his dedication to Teddy.

Looking back, Hermione supposed that was the start. The beginning of her defenses crumbling, the crack in the glass that quickly splintered out of control, consuming her vision entirely — acknowledging he cared for Teddy was enough to change her original perception of him, knowing that he’d break apart the world to carve a better future for him, was something entirely different.

“So what do you suggest?”

“Marry me,” He’d said, “And you’ll have everything you’ll need to rebuild.”

Whatever Hermione had expected him to say, it certainly hadn’t been that — “And what do you get?” She had asked after a long moment, eyes narrowed, always on the defense, especially with him, “Forgiveness?”

“I don’t care about forgiveness.” Malfoy had shrugged, still sitting comfortably in her chair, “All I need is an heir.”

Hermione had laughed, too loud for her tiny office, too loud for their quiet conversation — she hadn’t slept more than 12 hours in the past 4 days, weary and overworked, there had been no room in her crowded head to think about suppressing her initial reaction.

“You want me to become the next Lady Malfoy?”

“While I deeply appreciate the idea of you having my last name, I am a realistic man. It will undoubtedly be Granger hyphen Malfoy.”

Her laughter had still been something she tasted when Hermione stilled. There had been no humor in his eyes, only open sincerity — “You’re serious?” She had asked, for the first time, feeling the full weight of his words, “No! No, I can’t marry you, I don’t even know you.”

Malfoy had scoffed. “We grew up together, Granger.”

“That does not count!” Hermione had snapped, “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had, and you’re proposing to me.”

“Five years.” Had been his response.“One child and unfiltered access to my accounts for the rest of your life. We can make an Unbreakable Vow, if you’d like.”

“You are insane.”

“Perhaps. But I know what I want.”

“What you want,” Hermione had argued, “Is not me.”

“You are exactly what I want.” Malfoy had sounded so sure, so determined, fighting for something, perhaps, for the first time in a long while, “I need you. And as it turns out, you need me.”

“I don’t need anyone.” Hermione had snapped. Which was true, she could rebuild the world herself with her own aching hands, brick by unforgiving brick. “I can do this by myself.”

At that, Malfoy had grinned, wide and all encompassing. “I have no doubt about that. But just because you can do it by yourself, doesn’t mean you have to.” He’d said, “Just think about it, alright?”

Unfortunately for her, Hermione had thought about his offer, more than she would like to admit — like a dog scratching at the door, like a ghost determined to haunt her, his words trailed after her, weaving their way into her bones.

Perhaps, she had reasoned with herself, the answer wasn’t ripping herself apart to fit into the narrative the Ministry had decided for her, perhaps the true answer was simple, close enough to touch.

A month later, after being denied funding for the thirteenth time, Hermione had stormed into Malfoy’s office, ignoring his secretary, ignoring the voice in her head that told her to stop. “Five years?”

“Only five.”

And so, that was how her life had unfolded. A rushed ceremony, Malfoy’s hand warm on her waist, Harry as their bewildered witness; the beginning of half a decade together, a fortune to spend, a world to rebuild — and hovering at the back of her mind was a thought, floating softly, like an early September snow: an heir, owed as payment.

In the year that progressed around them, Hermione was met with yet another startling realization: she liked his company, furthermore, she missed Malfoy’s presence when he was away from her side. She wanted to hate him, wanted to be disgusted by the way his fingers always trailed spirals of fire across her skin in public, hands finding their faithful home in the small of her back — but despite Hermione’s best efforts, she didn't hate him.

She liked him.

Loved him, even.

It hadn’t happened overnight, a slow progression of muddled feelings, dripping to pool at the base of her spine, but one thing was for certain — one day she’d looked up, and had been glad to belong to him, if only for a moment. Hermione had not chosen him, and wouldn’t of, given the chance — but, yet, here he was beside her, a rock in the sea, letting her waves crash against him endlessly; she looked at him and saw an impossible future, one that extended past the five years they’d promised to each other.

Her own feelings aside, the two of them were happy together.

And then, on a Tuesday morning in early June, Draco Malfoy ruined everything.

“I think we should have sex.” He said conversationally, tone even, “Right now.”

Hermione glanced up from her book. “Now?”

Malfoy nodded, looking too comfortable sitting on her bed, “If you’re free.”

“I am.” She said softly. When faced with the terrifying problems of her youth, Hermione had always turned to reading — so in her best efforts to remain neutral on the subject of conceiving a child with a man whom she loved, who most undoubtedly did not feel the same way about her, Hermione returned to her old habits.“You can just do it, I’ll keep reading.”

Malfoy blinked at her. “You want to keep reading.”

Hermione nodded.

“While I fuck you.”

Hermione nodded again.

“This is what you want?”

“Yes.” She said through her teeth, “Now hurry up, you could've finished already.” Then, because she didn’t want to stare at his stupidly handsome face (nor the incredulous look on it) any longer, Hermione went back to reading about The Goblin Rebellion of 1752.

Warm hands smoothed up her legs, blunt nails scraping across her flesh, and Hermione narrowed her eyes at the page. “It’s my fault.” He said after a moment, “I’ve neglected my husbandly duties.”

“I should’ve never let you wander so far away,” He continued, fingers beginning to trace the crotch of her shorts, while Hermione dutifully re-read the same sentence three times, “Should’ve fucked you the first night, right there on the Ministry floor.”

Reading about Goblins seemed impossible, made even more so, when Malfoy slipped his fingers beneath the fabric of her pajamas, and began to lightly trace her cunt. “I knew you’d be warm.”

His voice was closer than before — Hermione glanced away from the blurry page, to find her husband inches away, breath warm on the exposed flesh of her stomach.

“If this is how you think conception works,” Hermione said tightly, hardly able to breathe, the weight of his touch over her cunt sending shivers down her spine, “I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed.”

“Maybe I want to play with my food.”

“Hm.”

He was silent for a while, tugging her shorts down past her knees, twisting her open with his fingers; he didn’t speak again until he was licking softly at her center, content, Hermione realized with spreading horror, to spend the entire day between her thighs —

Her fingers, who seemed to have a mind of their own, slipped down her torso, twisting in his hair, tugging at his scalp. Hermione felt him smile against her cunt, felt the scrape of his teeth on her flesh, caught between his jaws like prey. “How is your book?” He asked thickly.

“Fine.” Hermione whimpered, beyond pretending to read now, “I-Informational.”

“Such a smart girl.”

They both felt how she twitched at his words, tightening around his fingers.

“So clever,” Malfoy continued softly, still so capable of being cruel, “And strong. I see you when I close my eyes, beautiful, so tight and wet. Only for me, yes? For your husband?”

The book fell on the bed with a thud. “For you.” Hermione agreed, tugging at him, nails scraping across his skin like thorns from a garden, “For my husband.”

Fingers worked her clit, slipping through the wetness; as pleasure curved up her spine, unrelenting in a beautiful way, Hermione twisted away, grasping at the bed sheets — but met resistance when Malfoy tugged her back to his body. “No, no,” he murmured, adopting a patronizing tone, “Pretty girls don’t get to run away.”

She was still twitching, trapped beneath him in endless pleasure, when he brushed his cock across her cunt, pressing inside with aching slowness. It was instinct to remind him of the protection spell — but the words died in her throat when Hermione remembered what he wanted. What they both wanted.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” He rasped against her breast, teeth scraping flesh, “For so long.”

“A year,” Hermione hadn’t been able to keep the whine from her voice, how her breath hitched, painting her words with sweet desperation, “is not that long.”

Malfoy looked up, eyes glistening. “I’ve wanted you for much longer, Hermione.”

His cock was currently inside of her, carving a home, but hearing her name on his lips somehow felt infinitely more intimate. “You have?”

“If sleeping down the hall from you was all I’d ever get,” Malfoy panted, lips wet and red from sucking at her nipples — Hermione had a terrible vision of him doing that to her when she was pregnant with his child, swollen with him, “I’d gladly take it. I’d take whatever you gave me.”

“You love me?” The world was tilting on its axis, he was somehow still moving inside her, thick and swollen, somehow still pressing deeper.

He nodded, opening his mouth to speak, to fill her head with soft words, overflowing from his lips like a river swollen with rain — but before he could, Hermione twisted in their embrace, eyes narrowed in indignation. “And you didn't say anything?” She twitched when he hit the soft part inside her, words breaking off in her throat, voice turning brittle, “This entire time we could have been fucking? You are an idiot — ”

They’d kissed before, at parties, amongst twinkling lights and spilled champagne — but he’d never kissed her like this. Hungry and desperate, as if Malfoy wanted to consume her, bones and all, to etch a permanent place for himself along her spine. Hermione whimpered, pressing him closer, deeper inside, tightening around his cock; her hands slipped down to the mess of their fucking, squeezing his balls.

“Your poor little cunt,” Malfoy groaned, “Having to stretch around my cock. When we’re done, I’ll kiss it better, I promise, I’ll do whatever you want, stay on my knees for you forever, just let me cum, please, please — ”

Hermione had barely finished nodding when she felt warmth of his cum inside her, felt as he kept fucking her — desperate thrusts, sloppy and uneven, felt as he pushed himself deeper inside.

It was alarming, the idea that this could grow to something more, blossom, like a late spring flower — to become something beyond what they’d originally agreed upon. That perhaps, she could be guided gently down this path, hand in his own, towards a destination she’d never intended.

To love and to be loved in return.

“Do you think it took?”

Malfoy’s laugh vibrated against the skin of her ribcage, the echo of him inside her bones. “I tried my best.” His fingers slipped through the mess of her cunt, slowly pushing his cum back inside. “Come here, little wife. Let me fuck it deeper.”

All soft limbs and warmth, Hermione opened her legs further, making a home for him between her legs. “I’m not that little.”

Sliding his cock back in, Draco hissed between his teeth at the feel of her, “Not for long,” he agreed.

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ginnpolyjuice · 1 year

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Pls I feel even more lame here than I did on dhrtwt

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lolovestoread · 9 months

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Dramione Drabble

Originally posted on twt

Auror Draco/Healer Dramione

“I don’t like you right now” Hermione mutters as she continues to wrap the injured auror’s shoulder in bandages.

She knew he was hiding something when he left this morning. She should have known it was the danger of the mission he was being sent on.

“Come on, love” he tried again to grab her hands but she shook them off.

“Look Draco,” she started and he knew he was in trouble because after 10 years together the sound of his given name felt foreign to his ears. “I’m not asking for the moon here. I just need to know you’re safe!”

He sighs. She’s right. Of course she is and she knows it. “Ok love, I’ll keep you informed. It wasn’t supposed to be anything dangerous today but we got a hit on the Lestrange case and we had to act fast. I couldn’t get word to you before we all left the office this morning.”

The logical part of her brain knew that. The emotional part of her brain just wanted to make sure her fiancé was safe. “Alright.” She sighed finishing up the bandages.

He pulls her into his arms and breathes in the smell of her shampoo. Relishing in the scent of home. As she melts into his arms. The stress of the day finally leaving her shoulders.

“I’m still going to complain to Harry.” She mutters into his chest.

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” He chuckles. Letting her go so he can grab her hand as they both make their way out of St. Mungos.

“I love you, you know?” She says looking up at him.

“You’d better.” He replies with a smirk. “Or else the wedding next month is going to be really awkward.”

They both laugh as they make their way home. Together. Safe. Exactly how it should be.

#dramione #fanfic #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dhrtwt #dhr drabble #auror draco #healer hermione

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viridianphile · 1 year

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The Tale of Two Insufferables

Hermione felt alone in this world. And it just dawned upon her. That no matter how she excels in class, show her worth in the wizarding world, all the wizards and witches in hogwarts are still gonna call her an insufferable know-it-all swot.

But who cares? And so what? She’s got the library for company, and her books. Merlin, how could she feel alone? When she could just bask in the glory of escaping in the world of fiction?

Not even her friends, her best friends could fill in that sickening gap within her heart she never knew what it was and what’s the cure for it. But seriously, what the fuck was that? Even she couldn’t decipher the feeling. Maybe she just felt all alone, in this world. Worthless, she felt.

Whatever, she thought and indulged herself in reading alone in the Hogwarts library.

“Well would you look at that, the swot is alone”

A mocking sneer coming from another insufferable and undesirable wizard in the history of Hogwarts. At least for her, though.

“Malfoy,” she warns.

Unauthorized, he sat beside her. Legs swinging haughtily and manspreading following the subtle lift of his hips.

“Hey”

He greeted like it was all fine invading her personal space, sitting beside her uninvited whilst being enemies-sometimes-acquaintance is completely normal instead of clawing at each other’s throats.

She threw him a sharp look that made him remember too much of the time she punched him in the face. It made him chuckle for such a fond memory.

“What are you doing?” she motions towards his whole corporeal existence that doesn’t seem to read the room.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Right, what is he doing there? Why? Why sit next to Granger? It seemed a pull gravitated him towards that very spot next to her. Or maybe he’s in the mood to piss her of. Maybe both, or none of it at all.

“Honestly Granger, I have no fucking clue”

“You have ten seconds to vacate the seat before I—“

“Alright” and then he stood, plopped next to the seat he left like a child throwing a silent tantrum. His arms crossed, looking everywhere but her.

“Do you have a death wish, Malfoy?” a threatening tone, she gave him a quizzical look when he just sat there not too much of a change as it’s just a seat apart.

Malfoy’s in a silly goofy mood today, Hermione thought.

“I wish that swots realize that library seats are free real estate”

“Really? A muggle phrase? Since when did you become fond of them huh?”

“Since…you”

Hermione blinked.

Malfoy blinked.

Both of them, two, three, four times, a deafening silence stretching between them. Hermione furrows a brow and Malfoy clears his throat, completely ignoring the awkward retort he just dropped.

“Is that Jane Austen?”

And now he’s mentioning Muggle authors? The boy sitting one seat apart from her must be an impostor, a dupe!

“You’re mad Malfoy, and please, it’s Oscar Wilde, where did you learn that from?”

He smirks, smugly running a hand through his blond locks. He forgot to gel it today, she told her once he looked better without it.

“Oh well besides having a massive library at home, I happen to purchase a muggle bookshop. Named it, ‘Books and Crooks’”

“My cat?”

“Yes, your cat”

Theo appears out of nowhere, followed by Malfoy’s slytherin gang, “OH FOR SALAZAR’S SAKE DRACO GET TO THE FUCKING POINT!”

The Slytherin boy shouts across the room, earning a couple hisses and annoyed expressions from the students sitting dispersed around the expanse of the Hogwarts library.

Malfoy gave them a warning look before turning his attention on her, he stood following another run through his hair and straightening his tie.

“Oh Granger, there’s something I have to tell you—er, rather show you…” Draco buckles, cursing himself inwardly. It’s so uncool of him, a trait he didn’t know he possesses for he was a self-proclaimed epitome of coolness.

Hermione waits, a puzzled look on her face. What’s this ferret up to?

She remained seated while towering her, looking nervous. He pulls out his wand and flicks, suddenly the tower of books around her all flew to his command, their spines flapping and fluttering around her head forming a halo.

Hermione stands, gasping in awe of the sight. The book she was reading falls down into her hands and the pages fluttered, slowing down for her to notice the enchanted words dancing and highlighted in bold.

She read..

‘Dearest swot,

Please don’t push me away. You don’t have to be alone in this world.

And surprise…

I’m afraid you’ve bewitched me, body and soul. (Quote by Jane Austen)

P.S.

Can I be your date for the Yule ball?

Let’s be insufferable together,

D.Malfoy

She finished reading and the books fell out neatly to where they’re stacked. A few beats of silence followed, Hermione processing the whole situation.

Malfoy steels himself, the whole charade was unplanned. He didn’t think of a better confessional letter, he didn’t mean to make things turn out like this. It’s all supposed to be eloquent, chivalrous, and poised. He had a script in mind of which his hazy brain forgot—oh, if only he got a brain like Granger.

Granger, oh, Granger. Wherefore art thou Granger?

Lost in thought, the overthinking blonde thought he should be swallowed by the ground by now. He didn’t realize that Hermione was staring at his face, a blush on her cheeks that equally matched his.

“So..uh…what do you think about the book?” he steps closer, his beating heart pounding hard on his chest it almost hurt. Please… he pleads in his head, fighting the urge to take her hand in his, kiss it then let his lips linger.

Hermione swallows, her pulsing heart racing as he takes a slow step forward. She couldn’t fathom how a minute ago she was skulking about her affection deprived life, the next second this blonde twat which was supposed to be her enemy confessed in the most unique and interesting ways like he didn’t think it wouldn’t make her heart beat the same match as his.

“Well the book was clever, I admit”

Malfoy takes another step, this time a few inches separating the two insufferables. Theo wipes an impatient hand through his face, his gang and him entirely immersed, anticipating the moment meanwhile snooping from afar.

“Yeah? Tell me more about it”

A nervous smile but with ardent will and determination, Malfoy briefly reaches the end curl of her riotous brown hair , twirling it lightly with his fingertips. As if he couldn’t help but at least feel a bit of her..

“I think we’re both perfectly matched insufferables”

“And yes, Malfoy. I can be your date for the Yule ball” she added.

Hermione’s heart flutters once more before the whole library erupts in cheers.

“FUCKING FINALLY” Theo, a tired but definitely pleased wingman shouts in enthusiasm.

“The abomination you’ve created Granger, applause, applause. Draco’s going to gush about you like a giggling school girl in the dorms,” Pansy smirks, earning Theo’s approval, a panic but blushing Draco, and a happy and contented Hermione.

End.

A/n: honestly, word vomit. I’m stressed and I just need a dose of dopamine that is dramione. Cheers.

#dhr drabble #dramione #dhr fanfiction #dramione prompts #incorrect hp quotes #incorrect dramione #dhrtag #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione fandom #dramione fanart #dramione fic #dramione one shot #dhrtwt #dhr fic

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