#Solely because of her father who may try to urge her to bear an heir. As was implied in the DC crossover comic.

[saintofpride201]

Those who tell Bi-Yang headcanoners that her quip at the shirtless men in Beacon was just a "comphet" moment are honestly not my favorite.

There's the obvious tinge of blatant biphobia, but my issue is also that Remnant is a world where they solved homophobia BEFORE racism, or never even had that problem. Comphet isn't a problem, especially since Yang has supportive family figures like Tai and Qrow. There would be no need for a comphet narrative because it doesn't make sense.

I'm not against Lesbian-Yang headcanons in the slightest. But I'm tired of seeing Bi-Yangers being told by the toxic ones that their headcanon isn't valid because "it could have been a comphet moment".

[jackdawyt]

The final issue of Blue Wraith is here! And so is my breakdown and review!

Like both previous issues, we start with a flashback, this time we witness the very moment Leto became the Fenris we know today with his lyrium tattoos. As one of Danarius’s remaining slaves, Fenris is commanded to go into the lyrium sarcophagus with the compromise that his family will be freed. Something worth noting is that the sarcophagus requires a sword and lyrium to work, perhaps in the future, we may see this being used with red lyrium, or the red lyrium idol, not to mention, the red lyrium idol has it’s own ritual blade too. So, the idol could serve both purposes of fuelling this device.

We skip to the present day back in the Arlathan Forest, picking up from the last issue. Fenris, Vaea, Autumn, and Francesca are slaughtering their way through the Qunari forces, one of them killed Magister Nenealeus’s slaves, who had plenty of information about their magister’s whereabouts. Fenris goes slashy slash with his greatsword, Francesca uses her plant magic while Vaea kinda just watches the mayhem.

Meanwhile, the Qunari Viddasala escapes the scene, Vaea slightly touches Fenris on the back and immediately he turns to show her his rage, as she apologizes.

Following that, we shuffle to Ser Aaron, Calix, Marius and Tessa. Since the last issue, they had a lyrium-infused man explode whilst charging at them. Marius calls it a failed experiment, we can speculate this failure even further since the device was supposed to be used by elves, not humans.

The group discusses chasing after the Tevinter caravan, the very same envoy they’ve been following since issue one carrying the sarcophagus, on it’s way to Castellium Tenebris where another lyrium device potentially awaits them.

As a quick recap for the group’s mission objective. In the previous comic - Dragon Age Deception, Ser Aaron and company discovered that the ‘red lyrium imbued’ weapon they’re looking for on behalf of the Inquisition, was supposed to be at House Qintara’s estate in Ventus. However, an Agent of Fen'Harel impersonating the head of House Qintara sold this device to House Danarius at Castellium Tenebris in exchange for information. It must’ve been informed to die for because that agent was killed in the Qunari invasion, while the rest of the group escaped with an updated MO - get the weapon from Castellium Tenebris.

However, Casse, Ser Aaron’s horse is hurt, and can’t ride too well. Ser Aaron suggests that they need the help of Francesca and her magic. The group becomes impatient and decides to move on at a slower pace for Casse’s sake.

Shuffling back to Fenris, he apologizes for reacting to Vaea’s touch, saying that she bears no blame for not knowing his marks can cause pain when touched. He admits his angry reaction was influenced by losing the Viddasala. Since the group has no more leads to go on, they free the rest of Magister Nenealeus’s slaves and a little boy tells Fenris about a caravan heading to Castellium Tenebris. Fenris asks Autumn to track the Viddasala, and if Vaea and Francesca will join them.

Meanwhile, Ser Aaron and company are back on the road catching up to the caravan. Ser Aaron speaks with Calix on Casse’s origin, she used to belong to Grand Duke Gaspard. He called her Casse as if to say he was a broken thing. Before Gaspard could put her down, Ser Aaron stepped in and took the horse from him, he’s been with him ever since.

In a sudden hurry, a barrage of Qunari charge towards the group on horseback, the Viddasala and the rest of her forces that escaped Fenris’s blade. They too are after the caravan, seeking the lyrium sarcophagus.

Magister Nenealeus’s caravan pulls up to a cliff-side as they witness both the Qunari and Ser Aaron’s company mounted on horseback. Magister Nenealeus gathers his men and promises that for their sacrifices today, each Soporati who has magical capabilities will be elevated into a Laetan, a social level that is much more respected across the Imperium.

Shirallas, Fenris’s old elven companion, is seen on horseback working as Nenealeus’s new magekiller. However, he has not yet acquired his new lyrium tattoos through the sarcophagus like the other men. Instead, Magister Nenealeus has a worse scheme for the elf, he intends on putting Shirallas through the same sarcophagus process, however, using red lyrium instead, creating a never before seen red lyrium tattooed elven warrior. A worth opponent against Fenris.

Thus explains why Francesca’s father was needed for this experiment. He displays a speech for the soldiers, that their sacrifice will restore the Venatori, House Danarius, and House Nenealeus.

As Ser Aaron and Company are fighting the invading Qunari - Fenris, Vaea, Francesca and Autumn arrive at excellent timing! Autumn even gets a bloody kill. As the entire group charge ahead towards the caravan, the lyrium infused men reveal themselves.

The caravan leaves, as Francesca, using magic, grapples her father with a vine, ‘yeeting’ him off the caravan and to the ground. Fenris encounters Shirallas as he says he’s almost got the power he seeks, a power that only elves can handle. And a lyrium-infused man charges at Fenris and explodes.

As the Qunari add to the mixture of fighting, Calix admits he’d rather take cover than fight. Vaea and Ser Aaron tag team the battle, once more together again. The Qunari forces are surrounded by a group of lyrium-infused men, exploding their existence to smithereens.

The explosion leaves the forest desolate of life, Francesca finally gets the moment she was looking for, a confrontation with her father. She exclaims that she saved him, he picks himself up and smacks Franny across her face with his staff calling her a worthless child, shouting: “do you know what this cost me?”

This was his chance to restore the Venatori and the Invidus House, to reclaim their greatness. He asks where is Francesca’s brother as she lies on the ground. Vaea steps in and tells him that his son is dead and that his daughter was trying to save the only family she had left.

Magister Invidus attacks Vaea, calling her a knife-ear. He looks at Francesca and said the wrong child died. Fenris steps in to protect Francesca, holding his sword to his head saying that he will break the promise he made to Franny if he hurts anyone else again.

Magister Invidus turns around and says only my daughter would cut a deal with the Blue Wraith. As he attacks Fenris with his magic, and from what we can assume a red lyrium staff. As he summons a spell, Francesca yells for him to stop, she stands up and stabs her father in the heart with a vine spell. Instant death for Magister Invidus.

Fenris tells her she had no choice, while Vaea pushes him aside and weeps with Francesca, this panel truly is heart-wrenching and stunning showing the relationship growth of both characters.

Calix talks to Ser Aaron about not being built for any of this, he gives Francesca her gemstone back. He previously swindled this stone from her in Dragon Age: Deception. I feel this exchange shows the growth of Francesca since the previous comic and throughout all of Blue Wraith. She’s no longer that naive young lady, she’s found her own voice, made valuable friends and grown into the next heir of her house.

Francesca gives the gemstone back to Calix as he decides it’s time to leave the group, she tells him to take the stone to Fort Viridan, he’ll be granted safe access there. As everyone wishes him goodbye, we have the saddest of farewells. Autumn has a choice to make, does she go with Calix, or stay with Vaea and the rest. After a tear-jerker of a scene, Autumn stays with Vaea and squad.

Calix throws in a cheeky ’Princess Bride’ reference and Fenris joins the group even with his track record. He urges everyone that they’ve got to get to that sarcophagus before Shirallas uses it, while Vaea introduces him properly. Francesca heals Casse, and they all set out on the road to Castellium Tenebris, while Ser Aaron makes a comment about an adventure he had in the Dales traveling with elves who had dreams of restarting the Emerald Knights. As Ser Aaron tells his tale, the issue comes to an end.

Ending on a cliffhanger! Here’s hoping we’ll one day hear Ser Aaron finish this tale. There are so many things in this issue that demand another comic run, so we can get some answers!

All in all, Blue Wraith as an entirety has been perfect for me. As someone who grew distant with Fenris, it’s great to see him 10 years later with huge depth to his character, this comic has genuinely fleshed him out so much, and I respect him way more.

However, my favorite dynamic throughout the entire comic run has been Francesca and Vaea’s friendship. I’ve loved seeing these two characters start this adventure as strangers, and at the end of it, see them sharing emotional moments together as friends. I have grown to like and respect these characters as much as characters in the game, and because of that, I want to see their stories continue on.

Everyone involved in Blue Wraith has done a fantastic job, I listened to a recent podcast with Nunzio DeFillipis and his wife, Christina Weir and I noticed so many things I felt are worthwhile to share. 1st, Nunzio and Christina are truly delightful people, they shared about how writing Dragon Age comics has been a dream job for the two of them. You can tell from the way they talk about the franchise and BioWare, they love Dragon Age and are having an absolute blast creating these comics.

Although they’re building a future for the games with this red lyrium weapon plot and discovering  Castellium Tenebris’s secrets. These comics aren’t supposed to act as a prologue for Dragon Age 4, they’re about building the Dragon Age Universe and adding more lore and elements to it. So, yes they are helping the shape of what direction Dragon Age 4 may go in, but other than that, they’re just supposed to be fun! 2nd, these comics are created solely for filling the void of Dragon Age, establishing characters, locations, tones, even clothing styles.

So, even though we’re Dragon Age fans and we take everything too seriously, try not to with the comics just yet. At least until we have solid information on the next game.

With that, I would like to point out one negative thing about the recent comic runs, and that is the fact that they’re too short! With the long wait ahead for Dragon Age 4 ahead, having a five-issue comic with an issue popping once a month would help the wait for that game so much, that’s half a year of Dragon Age goodness. But I can understand why.

Regardless, that’s all I have to say on Blue Wraith, I eagerly look forward to the future, we know the writers are teasing another comic run and I know I speak for everyone when I say we’re just as eager for that too!

[recentanimenews]

Attack on Titan – 69 – Love Is in the Air

Things in present-day Paradis are pretty grim, but leave it to Hange to liven things up a bit by getting all pedantic about an incarcerated Eren repeating “fight” into his mirror. Hange is there to talk, just like the first time they met, only this time she’d prefer if he did most of the talking. If nothing else, Hange believed Eren would never sacrifice Historia (which is necessary for the Rumbling). Yet here they are.

Flash back to two years ago, with the Scouts and Yelena’s Marleyans welcoming the first outside visitors to Paradis’ rebuilt port: Paradis’s sole friendly nation, Hizuru, and its special envoy, Azumabito Kiyomi. During initial pleasantries, Kiyomi presents the shogunate crest: three katanas forming a triangle. Eren urges Mikasa to reveal what she’s only ever shown to him: that very same crest on top of her right wrist.

That’s right: Mikasa is the long-lost descendant and rightful heir to Hizuru’s throne. Queen Historia immediately feels a deepened kinship with Mikasa, as both were born with a heavy burden to bear. It’s just that unlike ‘Tori, Mikasa likely has no intention of uprooting her life, so say nothing of leaving Eren’s side.

Kiyomi has come to Paradis on Zeke Yeager’s invitation, as he enticed them with the prospect of mining the unique resource known as “Iceburst Stone” which fuels Paradis’ ODM gear. They’re excited at the prospect of restoring their former glory by taking the lead in an innovative industry. It also becomes clear that the Azumabitos of Hizuru are particularly concerned with profit, however it can be acquired.

Zeke’s plan to use the Rumbling to protect Paradis consists of three stages, as presented to Historia and all the island’s higher-ups. First, there will be a “test run” of the Rumbling, then strengthening of the Paradis military. Finally, the Founding Titan and a Titan with royal blood will be passed down. Zeke will pass the Beast Titan to a royal, and for thirteen years that royal’s primary task will be to have as many children as possible.

This plan makes sense in the present, but it does nothing about the overarching problem of the power of the Titans bringing ruin upon Eldians. Basically, the cure (i.e. the successful defense of Paradis) is worse than the disease. Hange understands this, and doesn’t like the prospect of kicking the can down the road to future generations, as previous ones did to them.

Back in the present, Hange tells Eren she felt the same urgency to weigh the protection of their lands against the cost it would incur, but still wishes Eren hadn’t gone off on his own, which severely limited their remaining options. Eren’s only response is that no prison can hold him now that he has the Warhammer Titan, so if Hange has “anything up her sleeve”, now’s the time to come out with it.

As for Queen Historia, she became pregnant in the ensuing two years, as discussed by a good old boy’s club getting drunk and discussing future strategy. The father of the child she’s carrying once threw rocks at her on her farm and later volunteered at her orphanage as penance. It was Historia who initiated their eventual liason resulting in her pregnancy.

One old man, Roeg, drunk on wine, can’t believe the queen got herself knocked up, and suggests they make her a Titan despite her pregnancy; no one else thinks that’s right or wise. Roeg suspects it was Yelena who convinced Tori to get pregnant, but he really has no idea. These guys, by the way, are being attended to by Greiz and Niccolo, who serve under Yelena.

Looking back two years ago, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Jean are all hard at work building a Paradis railroad, of all things, when Hange and Levi pay them a visit to report that Hizuru gave their reply: they won’t help Paradis open trade with other nations, as they’re committed to a monopoly on the island’s resources.

The rest of the world’s nations remaining united against Paradis, Root of All Evil, creates stability they’re unwilling to give up. That means they have little choice but to rely on the Rumbling for defense, which means sacrificing Historia. Armin wishes they’d reconsider a more peaceful path, but Mikasa tells him it’s no good; as long as those nations don’t know who and what they really are, they’ll always fear them.

An alternative plan, then, involves showing them who and what they are, by setting up a base in Marley. Eren worries time is running short; he only has five more years as a Titan. Then talk turns to who will inheret his Titan. Obviously, Mikasa volunteers first, but Jean vetoes, as there’s too much mystery surrounding the Ackermans.

Jean volunteers, but Connie believes he’s too valuable as a future regiment commander. Connie volunteers, but Sasha says they can’t leave such an important role to an idiot, so she volunteers. Connie says she’s more of an idiot than he is, so that wouldn’t work. Then Eren states that he doesn’t want any of them to have to inherit it; they’re all too important to him, causing both him and them to turn red (apropos for Valentines).

Back in the darker, bleaker, narrower present, Mikasa, Armin, Jean and Connie discuss what’s next now that Eren seems to be going all in on Zeke’s plan. If Eren is choosing Zeke over them, they may need to cut him down, but of course Mikasa would never allow that. She assures them it won’t come to that, that he still cares about them.

But Jean mentions how the old Eren would try to keep Mikasa off the front lines. The new one pulled them into an unnecessary battle that got Sasha killed. And worse, Connie mentions how Eren laughed when he heard Sasha had died. Armin decides that he and Mikasa will talk to Eren alone and try to see how he sees things. Because he may not be Eren anymore, and thus may not consider them as important as exacting final revenge upon Marley and the world.

By: braverade

[real-jane]

Carousel-of-May (Drabble-a-Day, May 2020)

Day 20 - Conflict of Interest

His testimony lasted for nearly an hour. He spoke clearly, and his words echoed up in the high-gabled ceiling of the courtroom. Most barristers make closing remarks on behalf of their clients, but no amount of flowery legal language could say what Draco felt in his heart. His statement wrapped up thusly:

When I was nine years old, my father became pledged to a man we have come to know as Voldemort—but their acquaintance stretched back much further. My father has been embroiled with the deeds of Tom Riddle since he framed Rubeus Hagrid. My mother was not aware of my father’s involvement back in those days, but it has come to light in this court that he has been an orchestrator of dark acts for almost four decades, at the behest of his master.

One of those acts was fathering a son.

I am the sole heir to the Malfoy line, which was built on the backs of muggle-born witches and wizards. My inheritance was written in blood. My father used my mother to secure the legacy of his bigotry, and used me to attack the children of people who opposed him. I have been a tool of his abuse, and a victim of it. But I am not without guilt.

I took the dark mark when I was old enough to know better. I was brainwashed, you can be sure, but I knew what it meant to bear the skull and serpent tattoo, and I will have to bear it until my body is one day cremated, as punishment for my actions.

I have killed no one. I have harmed many. I owe countless apologies to my peers. There is one person to whom I have done the most harm, and to whom this legacy of poison can never be explained or atoned for. Myself.

I have kept myself from knowing love. From developing friendships with people who would have cared for me. From pursuing an education which might have liberated me from my father’s influence. I have kept myself from my mother’s bedside as she lay dying, and kept myself from grieving her after she passed. All this because my father made me believe I could not give or receive affection without violence. The one thing I cannot do is sit by and allow my father, Lucius Malfoy, to continue existing on this planet.

Every meal he is afforded is a meal denied to a wizard he killed. While I believe I do not have it in me to take the life of anyone unless they threatened someone I love… I do not have a family to protect. Nobody loves me. So, I have to protect my legacy and my family name and prevent my bloodline from ever continuing. I will not father children. The Malfoy line ends with me. A fish rots from the head. He, my father, is the head. His death will bring peace to several generations of wizards, just as Voldemort’s death brought peace to mine.

I request he be killed swiftly, and his death not be prolonged by last meals or any bounty of mercy. If he is afforded any rights at all, let him make his confession to a Muggle priest, perhaps the only living soul who could believe there is good in him.

I can live with the death of my father. It will pain me, what he did to me, until my memory goes. I hope I live long enough to forget him.

Thank you.

There was a heady silence in the court as Draco sat down again, but she leaned over and squeezed his knee in reassurance. “You did well,” she whispered. He nodded curtly, patting her hand.

The court did not take long to deliberate and in the end, the sentence was passed.

Lucius Malfoy would hang by the neck until dead.

It was only right that a man who so hated the Muggle world should have a Muggle coward’s death. An old-fashioned death, the kind which was exacted on petty thieves back before prisons existed large enough to hold petty offenders. Except his crimes weren’t petty, and Azkaban was too luxurious for the likes of him.

Draco slumped down in his seat. Lucius Malfoy was taken away in chains by the Azkaban guards, and the crowd filtered out of the room, leaving only Draco, his council, and a handful of court reporters, who he had agreed to speak to after the trial had concluded. He stood behind the defense table and pressed his hands to the wood.

His council held up her hands to quiet the tiny throng. “Mister Malfoy will take one question apiece, so make them count.”

“Mister Malfoy!”

“Go ahead, Jameson,” his companion said.

The man in brilliant yellow robes stood with a notepad and Quick Quotes Quill poised. “The court ruled in your favor. How are you feeling?”

Draco cleared his throat. “Justice has been done, and I believe it will be a relief to many.”

“Why did you give the closing remarks instead of Ms. Granger?” another reporter asked, a woman named Marissa from a small gossip rag.

He glanced at Hermione Granger, who was standing pensively beside him, appearing strong and unbending as she had always done, since the day he came to her asking for help. “Would you like me to answer?” she asked. He shook his head.

“While Ms. Granger has always represented my interests above and beyond the call of duty, I felt it necessary for the court to understand that Lucius Malfoy’s crimes cannot be summarized on paper, nor can they be considered in any way inconsequential to my family’s legacy.” He shrugged. ��No one is able to tell my story but Me. Even if they are as eloquent as Ms. Granger.”

Rita Skeeter held up a clawed hand. “Are you open to dating now that your trial is over, Mister Malfoy? And if so, may I tell my readers we have an eligible bachelor on our hands?”

He blushed. “That is one facet of my life to which you shall never be privy, Miss Skeeter.”

“So that’s a yes, then.” She winked and Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Any questions pertaining to the actual trial?” Hermione did roll her eyes, and he was greatly amused.

A man stood, this time wearing becoming tweed robes with a jaunty hat and a mustache to match. “My question is for Ms. Granger: why did you take on this case in particular?”

Draco felt her tense up. “Surely that is something your readers don’t care about,” Draco said.

“On the contrary. I feel my readers will want to know how a member of the golden trio came to represent a former Death Eater.” Giles Gibbons was known for his direct and honest questioning, which always flowed freely from him, as if his extemporaneous thoughts were tightly organized in his head—he was neither disrespectful nor coddling. Which is why Draco suddenly felt quite self-conscious that Hermione might be required to answer such a personal question. She wasn’t the one on trial. She was his council. An incredible barrister, to be sure, but she was not under sentencing. The fact he had bullied her up until third year and been a part of a murderous cult was not a factor in their working relationship… was it?

Hermione sighed. “Mister Gibbons, while I appreciate your frankness and fluidity, which is indeed an admirable quality in a fountain pen, I don’t believe it is my responsibility to answer why I, an experienced barrister and woman of integrity, would take on a worthy case. You may think you understand what those words mean—former Death-Eater. Golden Trio.—you did not live through the origins of them. For me to try to explain to you why Draco Malfoy is worthy of defending... He had a case, he came to me, I said yes. That’s all you need to know.”

Draco tried to pry his jaw off the floor. Yes, he was grateful to her for all she had done to help him, but he had figured she had done it out of some misplaced sense of duty… and not because she really believed his case worthy of defending. His heart leapt.

“That’s all the questions we’ll take for now.” Hermione took the blank look on Draco’s face to mean that any further questioning would prove fruitless. “If you have other questions you’d like for Mister Malfoy to speak to, you may send them to my office. Thank you.”

She gripped his elbow and tugged him away from the reporters, who murmured lowly amongst themselves. Draco strode to keep up with her but even in her stilettos, she wildly out-paced him. She stepped into the lifts well ahead of him and Draco had to dive through the doors to make it inside. Once they reached the main floor of the Ministry, she kept up the grueling pace until they were outside in the smoggy London air, and he could finally grab her elbow, yanking her out of the crosswalk and the path of a shiny black cab. She collided with his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I’m a bit touchy.”

He released her, and she brushed her hands down the front of her robes. “Well.” He breathed out. “That’s over. I’m… relieved.”

“Good,” she peeped. She didn’t look at him, choosing instead to sit on the steps of a small monument to some inconsequential Muggle royal, which was a few blocks away from the secret entrance to the Ministry.

“Are you… alright?” Draco stood at the base of the steps.

Hermione curled up her fingers into her palms. “We… won. We won. And still Gibbons insinuates defending you makes me some kind of saint! As if—UGH! As if you’re less of a person, and nothing your father did matters because… I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m so mad. What a piece of shit.” She clearly wanted to scream or something. Draco reached for her shoulder before he could stop himself. He grasped it and squeezed. When she looked up at him, her eyes were shining with frustrated tears.

“Please don’t cry,” he said softly, sitting beside her. “I cannot bear it. I… do think you’re a saint. For taking my case on, for helping me write my remarks and gathering so much evidence against my father.” He laughed. “Hell, if it weren’t for you, we never would’ve found three-quarters of our witnesses. You’ve got dogged determination, and I could not have done any of this without you.” His hand slid down her arm to her elbow. “You’ve spent the last six months of dinners discussing this case over Chinese food and formatting theories—I’m sure you’re long past ready to have normal cases again.”

She leaned into his touch. “I’m not, Draco. I’m not ready.” Hermione took his hand. “This case has been everything to me.”

“I understand.” But he didn’t, really. Not in the same way.

She nudged him with her shoulder. “Fuck what Jameson asked. What are you really feeling?”

Draco looked away.

Well?

He felt... like he had a weight pulling from his sternum which would eventually cause him to hunch like an old man long before his body truly gave out on him.

Like everything he had worked for was finished, and so… now what?

Like his mother would be proud of him, and missing her so much that the thought of her sprung tears in his eyes--if only she could be there with him.

He felt feverish.

He felt sad.

He felt high on accomplishment.

He felt hungry.

He felt hot and desperate to be touched and fuck if he wasn’t ready to unbutton his collar and breathe again.

“Too much to properly articulate.” He touched his top button but did not undo it.

She nodded once. “May I say something, not as your barrister… but--” she stopped. She looked up at him. He raised an eyebrow, but she took that as permission to continue. “I can’t listen to you talk anymore about having nobody. I can’t listen to it because I’ve spent the last six months--what is that? A hundred and… eighty days, or so?--caring very much about what you need.” She grazed his cheek. “I’ve represented some real gems, which happens when you start out as a public defender, and I am proud of the work that I did. But I failed you, because… it is not your best interest I have had in mind. It’s mine.

“Draco… do you not see how much you matter? To me? Don’t you feel it? If you don’t, it’s fine, I can live with that, but… you can’t spend the rest of your life believing nobody cares about you or what happens to you.” She searched his eyes, but he was too stunned to react. All he could do was stare at her. Hermione touched his cheek again and smiled sadly. “Alright. Well. Now you know, and… I should go. I don’t remember what it’s like to have a night off,” she said with a light laugh, tinged in sadness. They had truly spent nearly every single evening together working on his case… He had come to depend on the doorbell ringing at four pm, which signified she was waiting with takeout in one hand and an armful of files. She always had a determined smile on her face. She always forced him to peruse her latest finding before cracking open the reusable container with his food inside, and they marked the end of every evening with a glass of scotch. The next morning, her owl would appear with a scroll summarizing what they had discussed the night prior, and a promise she was looking into this thing or that, and she’d show him her findings that night--and did he want Chinese again, or would Indian do? The realization settled in him, and Draco did unbutton the collar of his shirt, then. He was sweating.

She was the part of his day he looked forward to the most. He would wait on a knife’s point for four o’clock to roll around, snapping at his assistant when she disturbed his anxious reverie, and the moment Hermione stepped inside his apartment, he would let out a breath that had been choking him all day long. He set his watch by her.

He dreamed about her.

He noticed when her hair was different, when she picked a new lipstick. He noticed when she shifted on her heels because her feet were aching because she had been standing beside him all day at the preliminary hearings. Everything about her was attuned in his mind.

“I think I love you,” he realized out loud, before the thought could bounce around in his brain long enough to decide if it was right to say. He stood abruptly and held out a hand to her. Her hand was shaking, but she took it, and Draco pulled her up. He walked down one step so she was eye-to-eye with him. “No… I know it. For certain.”

Hermione smiled softly. She touched the skin at his throat where his button used to sit, tracing the circular indent there. His Adam’s apple jumped. “You don’t have to say that.” She sounded desperately sad.

“I do. I can’t hide things from you, and I don’t want you to represent me anymore.”

Her eyes were teary again--why was she so sad? “Why not?” she sniffed.

“Conflict of interest.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I love you, Hermione.”

As the realization passed over her face that he was being honest, that he felt the weight of her words, she smiled brightly, and the tears streaming down her cheeks became happy ones. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, and hugged her off her feet. She laughed as her shoes fell to the ground with a clatter, and he spun her around. When he set her on her feet again, she barely came up to his chest, so he bent down to kiss her again, which was all he really wanted to do.

“Why are you so short?” he teased. She wrinkled her nose.

“That’s rich coming from a behemoth.” She put her arms around his neck and linked her fingers. “Say it again?”

Draco straightened, forcing her to stand on her tip-toes on his shoes. He brushed her hair off her face, which he had dislodged in the spin of his declaration. “I lied to the court, but I did so unconsciously. There is one person for whom I would kill, and who I know, without her having to say it, because her actions have proven it--loves me. And it’s you. Please don’t leave me tonight, or any night hereafter.”

Hermione nodded. She inclined her head to kiss him, and smiled wryly. “So. What should we get for dinner?”

“Ms. Granger, for once, let me feed you.”

It was a lot, he had to admit, to contend with in one day. There was a heaviness in him, for the finality of his father’s life and the end of the trial, but one thing would remain constant in his life. It was more than he could ever have hoped for.

Her.

*

Read the rest of the drabbles here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23957782/chapters/57620938