#divorced dramione

[fanfictiondramione]

The weight of remorse

In the dim light of the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy discreetly watched his old schoolmates gathered for the special occasion. Her eyes scanned familiar faces until they finally found Hermione Granger. Countless days had passed among us.

She was chatting with other alumni, her smile lighting up the room. The same luminosity that had attracted him so many years ago, when he secretly admired her in the halls of Hogwarts.

Draco's heart clenched as he realized how beautiful she still was, and as charming as she had ever been. Her brown hair, now a little longer and with fewer curls, fell smoothly in perfect waves over her shoulders. The red dress she wore enhanced her bright eyes in a way that made them look lighter.

A wave of resignation washed over him. It was no longer his right to admire her like that. They had divorced, their lives taking opposite turns. But he still began to reflect bitterly on how, at that time, he had not valued what they had together enough. Youth and pride had clouded his vision, until it became too late to recognize how much Hermione meant to him.

As he watched from afar, Draco felt a mix of conflicting emotions, as he silently acknowledged that even if they can't meet again, even if everything changes, his heart won't forget that smile, it remains the same. Hermione continued to be a beacon in his life, even if she now shone in another direction. And he stood on the sidelines, his heart closed, living like a fool with all memories locked in his heart, standing there watching her as a distant spectator of his own lost love story.

Image direct: Lepra in Twitter X (Follow, it's every masterpiece)

[daisiesnotroses]

This is a reverse trope Dramione one-shot situation 🌸 such a fan thing to write 🌸 and now I want to expand on it and actually write this big wedding! 😩

Dramatic Draco Malfoy and pragmatic Hermione Granger at its finest 🤭 (they um- they have a lot of children)

Cheers 🌸

[minimindi]

Chaperoning the Yule Ball -WIP

Divorced Malfoy (40) and widowed Granger (41) agree to chaperone the annual Yule Ball for their children's 4th year at Hogwarts. I kinda love writing for older versions of our childhood characters!

Excerpt: (Hermione's POV)

“I suppose I shall endeavor to be a better helicopter parent, shall I? Realistically though I’d say the odds of me learning the fine art of subtly at this point in my life to be less than zero. What if I watch out for your kid and you watch out for mine?” she asked.

“Twenty points to Gryffindor for your self awareness. Okay we can swap kids for this evening. Mine is not allowed to go into the gardens with anyone besides Albus. And he’s not to take a drink from anyone except Rose or Albus. What are your rules for Rose?”

“Wait, you’re going to allow him to go into the gardens with Albus?! Malfoy! They’ll end up snogging at the very least!” she exclaimed.

“It would be about time too. He’s wanted to kiss him for years now, though he thinks no one knows. I need for him to get on with it already so that I can stop seeing him make those ridiculous love-sick eyes at the Potter boy. But he’s not to leave the Great Hall with anyone else. Knowing Scorp like I do, he’ll end up in a kiss that he doesn’t want if he leaves with someone else. Well, except for your daughter. Neither of them are interested in each other in that way I suppose. Okay, he can leave the Hall with Rose too.”

“Kissing is just where it starts, Malfoy! If you let them go out there it won’t be long before kissing escalates to other things.”

“My goodness Granger, what on earth did you do in the Hogwarts gardens?!” Malfoy asked with a smirk and a chuckle. She rose up to the balls of her feet to get a better angle before swinging her hand at his shoulder. “Ow! Merlin’s tits woman, we’re not thirteen anymore. Stop hitting me!”

For an older version of Draco & Hermione I'm thinking of Tom Felton & Emmy Rossum

[dramioneasks]

Time Is Too Short - NeheMikkele - M, 41 chapters - After her divorce with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger is now Minister for Magic and living alone. She's almost 41 with both work and her children taking up all the space in her life. Draco Malfoy is a lonely widower, struggling with what life has thrown his way. Ginny Potter sees an opportunity to help two people who deserve better.

[schmem14]

WIP SNIP {Insert Day of the Week}

Thanks for the tag, @vukovich (x)

Here's a Modern/Muggle AU I'm tinkering with featuring hot himbo swim instructor Draco and not just one but TWO unlikely admirers!

snip 1:

Ron sat in one of the chairs after the twins got called into the pool, pulled his phone out to text his best friend when the sight of Malfoy’s ridiculous, beach blonde hair caught his eye again.  

He looked up, studying Malfoy as he wandered down the line of swimmers, his face still plastered with that ridiculous smile. 

He seemed like he was happy. The concept felt so foreign that Ron began to wonder if he’d ever seen Malfoy happy in all the years they’d been at school together. 

Ron noticed other things as well, unable to help himself. 

Malfoy’s black tank top and short blue shorts showed off a well-toned body—Ron wondered if he still worked out on top of swimming— and his face, though pointy as it always was, had filled out into a sharp, striking jawline. 

Ron wasn’t admiring him, exactly. He was just trying to find the flaw, the crack. 

What would it take to get Malfoy to show his true colors?

When Malfoy came back out thirty minutes later to signal the end of class, Ron still hadn’t stopped staring, and he hadn’t found an answer to his question. 

snip 2:

Five minutes into the book, Hermione sighed, snapping the covers shut. A total dud. She’d already solved the murder, figured out who was going to die, predicted the dull, lifeless romantic subplot, and ascertained that the smut would probably be subpar if the descriptions of the size zero D cup green-eyed redheaded femme fatale was any indication. 

Straight to Goodwill with this one. 

Hermione glanced through the window to watch Hugo swim down the lap of the pool, his splashes abnormally large and cumbersome. His teacher was a petite, button-nosed doll of a woman with water-slicked black hair and eyes the color of burnt caramel. 

Hermione watched the teacher work her magic, her hands steady as they straightened Hugo’s hips, guiding his kicks straighter than he’d been able to accomplish in lessons with Ron. 

A flash of blonde caught her eye and Hermione found herself studying someone entirely different. 

Someone she shouldn’t be studying. 

The problem with Draco was, he presented a puzzle to be solved, and with twenty-five minutes remaining, Hermione found the prospect irresistible. 

Maybe it was the lavender shorts with two-inch inseams that pulled across his tight, muscled bottom when he crouched to listen to what one of the teachers was saying. Perhaps it was the mid-calf black wave patterned socks that should’ve been tacky but weren’t. It had to be the way his arms pulled when he folded them. Or the strand of hair dangling over his eye when he bent his neck to scribble a note on his clipboard. 

[katsiperennial]

“We could just pretend,” Hermione said, her voice broken and weak.

Draco pinched his brow, a tired expression on his face, ever present these days; she knew because she wore its match. “And you think Scorpius will buy it?” he asked.

She sipped her tea long grown cold. “At least until the paperwork is finalized.”

[kevergreen]

I’m writing a new fic!!!

It’s going to be a long, drama-filled, slightly dark attempt at explaining how Draco and Hermione could end up together in a mostly canon-compliant way. I love fics starring adult Dramione, so I figured I would give it my own shot. 

The first chapter is posted, for your enjoyment!!!

Growth and Failure - Chapter 1: Failure

Hermione Granger was not a coward. Or at least that’s what she told herself. Because with every passing day. Every passing week. Month. Year. She had less and less faith in that statement.

Because at the end of the day, that’s exactly what she thought of herself.

She was both a coward,  and  a failure.

A wet spot appeared on the page before her, smudging her perfect lines around ‘Seychelles’. She sniffed quietly.

September 1st.

Hermione Granger was not a coward.

But maybe, just this once, she could be okay with being a failure.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44464984/chapters/111841120

[ileftherbackhome]

jeff davis got me so mad, i wrote dramione fanfic

[saintsenara]

metas on ships

- in defence of amicable divorce - miscellaneous tomarrymort headcanons - thoughts on wolfstar from a non-wolfstar fan - unrequited prongsfoot is canon - why fandom needs to stop sleeping on dron - wow, luna is impossible to ship with anyone...

sirius black/severus snape

- could snack work as a couple in a world where james lives? - snape, sirius, childishness, and the werewolf prank - snack's sexual dynamics - miscellaneous snack headcanons

hermione granger/ron weasley

- romione are the best canon couple - no, ron and hermione wouldn't need couples therapy [no, they really wouldn't] - the best romione moment in the series [now with part two and three!] - are jily and romione meant to be narrative parallels? - would i write romione as the main pairing of a fic?

lily evans/james potter

- james and lily were love at first sight - would james and lily's marriage have lasted without the war?

remus lupin/nymphadora tonks

- a remadora answer which will please nobody - lupin's idealisation of tonks during their relationship - lupin's relationship with his sexuality, in remadora and snupin

harry potter/ginny weasley

- hinny's best narrative parallel? bellamort - ronarry versus hinny

severus snape/nymphadora tonks

- the stonks manifesto - stonks and the euphoria of queerness

severus snape/lord voldemort

- the snapemort manifesto - time-travelling snapemort would be a disaster

on...

short-form looks at various ships...

bellamione | blackcest | cissamione | dorlene | dracomort | dramione | drarry | drinny | flintwood | georgelina | georgemione | ginnymort | golden triad | grindeldore | grindelmort | hansy | harmony | hinny | jegulus | jily | lilymort | lilypad | linny | lucimort | lucissa | lunarry | luthur | mollytrix | moonflower | nottpott | pansmione | pavender | perciver | riddledore | ronarrymort | ronmort | siricissa | sirimione | siritrix | siritunia | sirry | tedoire | tomarrymort | tombraxas | tomione | wolfbucks | wormbucks

out of which snape has emerged as the fandom bike...

snaco | snagonagall | snames | snamione | snarcissa | snarity | snarry | snarrymort | snegulus | snetunia | snily | snilymort | snilypad | sniritunia | snon | snucissa | snucius | snulciber | snumbledore | snumblemort | snuna | snupin

unhinged and deranged...

send me the wildest pairing - platonic or romantic - that you can think of and i'll answer it here...

[maxdibert]

i saw that you used to read dramione fics and cool with hermione/krum

do you think that as a romantic ship ron is not a match with hermione? or any thoughts on ron weasley in general?

For me, the dynamic is everything in a ship. I have very specific preferences when it comes to the kind of dynamic that hooks me between two characters or the types of personalities I like. Enemies to Lovers has always been something I really enjoy, mainly because I’m a sucker for drama. I mean, I love the hard stuff: different worlds, countries at war, opposing political/social positions. The characters don’t necessarily need to be enemies, but there has to be some element that puts them on opposite sides and creates drama.

I also really love power couples—characters who are both A+ in the same field, complement each other to become even more brilliant, and have this push-and-pull dynamic with unresolved sexual tension.

In general, I’m very into the idea of two characters who have lived a lot, come from vastly different backgrounds, have been through a lot of crap, and then suddenly meet, and bam! It’s almost like a coincidence because they wouldn’t normally have crossed paths, but they do, and something unexpected comes out of it. That’s the kind of feeling I just don’t get from childhood friends to lovers. It’s something that bores me so much. I know it’s a trope many people enjoy, and I understand why, but to me, it feels super bland. Even more so if one of the characters doesn’t seem to deserve the other, like Ron, who, to me, acts like a jerk to Hermione several times. Plus, his family feels like some kind of cult.

Honestly, I think Hermione should’ve married someone in her 30s—maybe a politician or someone highly intellectual who could challenge her mentally. I picture her as a modern 21st-century woman, not just another Weasley baby-maker. I really can’t stand the Weasleys in general; they seem super toxic and have this traditional family dynamic that repels me. I firmly believe Hermione and Ron would have ended up divorcing before their 40s, once their two kids were at Hogwarts and they were left alone at home without them.

But to answer your question more directly: No, I think Ron is a boring match for Hermione. There’s no tension, just silly and childish arguments. There’s no passion, no je ne sais quoi. At least Viktor/Hermione is cute. I like it for that reason. Krum is this international star but super introverted, chased by all the girls, and suddenly he notices the one who doesn’t care about him and asks her out before anyone else. I think it’s adorable. A wholesome teenage romance that makes you smile. But honestly, since the fourth book, Ron has grossed me out in general. I see zero chemistry between him and Hermione. I imagine them having super mediocre sex, honestly, lol.

[aislynn-wiley1999]

Even If It Was Him

Shameless Dramione one shot set years after the battle. Canon Divergent (obv). Smut with some plot.

Warnings: sexual content, f!ngering, pINv sex, alcohol consumption, discussion of divorce, strong language. Minors DNI!!!!!

Word count: 5.5k

Can be found here if you prefer to bookmark on AO3!

It had been years since Hermione had ventured into a pub on her own, much less the Three Broomsticks. Maybe it was pathetic, having a drink all by herself, but she felt as though she had earned it after the day she had been through. Or perhaps, after the entire year she had endured.

There really was no right way to describe the feelings she felt after her divorce was finalized. Both sad and relieved, memories swirled in her mind as she walked down the path to the entrance of the pub. The adventures and triumphs she had shared with Ron, the regret she had early into their marriage, the way she stopped loving him in the past year. And while Ron agreed that their marriage had deteriorated, he was less ready to sign the papers than she was. Still, with no children or major assets, she was able to leave the marriage in a fairly clean manner.

The Three Broomsticks was rather empty, on account that it was a Tuesday past 10 p.m., but it was perfect for Hermione. She sat herself at the bar, ordering a Fire Whiskey with a cup of water to thin it out. The liquid was warm, filling her chest as she drank it. Sighing, she set the cup down and looked around the bar, thankful that she didn't really see anyone she knew. Harry would be upset if he knew that she was by herself, drinking alone, but what would he do about it? Hermione knew that she would never be able to maintain her friendship with Harry in the same way now that she and Ron had split. How could she face Ginny after leaving her brother?

The whiskey continued to be nursed, the cup slowly emptying, and Hermione felt more sad than anything. Her surroundings became dull, save for the occasional opening of the pub door and the bartender filling pints. Once the cup was empty, she flagged someone down from behind the counter and ordered another one. A new glass full of the golden liquid was presented to her, and she gladly sipped it. The second glass brought emotions with it, and she felt this sense of regret wash over her. Not so much because of Ron, but because she tied her identity to him for so many years. Now she was alone, and she had no real plans beyond continuing her work at St. Mungos. Her small flat on the high street was lonely and dark, a mirror for what she felt inside. Dropping her head into her hands, she let out one shaky breath in a desperate attempt to calm herself.

"Granger?"

Hermione whipped her head up and turned around, not sure if the voice was who she thought it was. But there he stood, standing in the middle of the bar, looking at her with this odd expression that she couldn't quite place.

Draco Malfoy.

It had been years since she had laid eyes on him, since she had spoken to him or heard anything about him. But he was there, in front of her, looking tired and worn out. His blonde hair looked less than perfect, signaling that he was either going through something or that he had stopped putting as much effort into his appearance since school. There was still this regal air of confidence, as if he knew he was better than everyone around him, that wafted from his body language. He towered over her as she sat at the bar, staring at her as she grieved.

"Draco," Hermione said, mimicking his stand-offish language. Truthfully, she didn't know what else to say to him. What more could she say, really, after everything?

"Where's your husband?" he asked, as if Ron was her keeper. She scowled, feeling brave with the liquor in her system. "I don't have a husband," she said, practically spitting the words out.

There is a shift in his expression, not one of softness or kindness, but of understanding. Hermione notices it and rolls her eyes, turning back to her drink at the bar. Draco emerges next to her, ordering something she doesn't recognize. She watches as he is presented with a glass of a clear liquid, with an odor so strong she can smell it from a few feet away. Wrinkling her nose as the scent, she continues to sip her whiskey. He settles at the seat one down from her, sipping his drink quietly.

"You left Weasley," he says, like it's a statement he has never been more sure of. Hermione glances at him. "What makes you think he didn't leave me?" she asks him.

"Weasley would never do that. You are smarter than him, better at almost everything than he is, and kinder," he says, taking a sip of his drink and not daring to glance at her. Hermione, however, now can't tear her gaze from the side of his face. She never would have pictured the boy who, less than a decade ago, was calling her foul names and hurling insults her way to say something like that. Draco finally glances at her.

"Not a compliment. Weasley was a fucking imbecile," he says cruelly. Hermione sighs, turning back to her drink. She watches out of the corner of her eye as Draco finishes off his glass and orders another one. "Why are you acting all depressed?" she asks him, almost surprising herself.

This time he does turn his head towards her. "Why should I tell you anything?" he sneers, reverting back to the boy she remembers. Hermione shrugs. "You were the one who sat next to me. This place is empty, you could have sat anywhere. I thought maybe you wanted someone to talk to."

“You think just because I am seated near you, drinking, that I would open up to you? Perhaps you aren’t as smart as I perceived,” he says, his voice still dripping with venom. Hermione only nods and, not wanting to endure any sort of torment from him, starts to push off of her barstool to go sit in a booth in the corner of the pub.

“Astoria broke off our engagement,” Draco says as her foot brushes the floor. He does not look at her still, just drinking small sips of the clear foul smelling liquid. His face is void of any real emotion, cold and cruel and beautiful like he was carved from marble. Hermione does not sit back in her chair, but she stands at the bar and watches for any movement in his face.

“Do you want to discuss it further?” she finally asks, bracing herself in case he lashes out at her. Instead, he just shrugs his shoulders. “I am sure you have read about it in the papers,” he says.

Blinking, Hermione does seem to recall there being some small blurb about their proposed union. Those things were always big with pureblood families, the unity of two great lines. However she did not recall seeing anything about the end of their engagement.

“Only about the engagement, not about it being called off,” she says, watching his face for any sign of emotion. He only shakes his head, eyes still cold and full of nothing. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. It was not a good union, not a good match on my parents' part,” he says, looking straight ahead.

“You were not permitted to marry for love?” Hermione says, without really thinking. The alcohol in her body is catching up to her, and she finds it harder to control her thoughts and tongue when she is drunk.

Draco turns to look at her fully, and Hermione wants to shrink under the crossfire of his gaze. His eyes seem to pierce into her, looking straight into her heart, her brain, even her soul. There is nowhere for her to hide, nowhere she can go to escape the cold stare of eyes like stone.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Granger. You married into one of the only pureblooded families that doesn’t give two shits about their lineage. It was evident when they let their son marry a Muggle born witch, and their daughter is out galavanting with Potter. Doesn’t matter that he’s the chosen one, he’s still a half blooded wizard,” Draco spits, not taking a breath.

But Hermione is quick, not intending to allow him to speak freely in this manner to her. “You foul little boy. Has nothing softened in you, years after everything has happened? You act high and mighty, but at least I will experience love in my life! Real, raw love, not some family orchestrated bullshit!” Her voice does not waver, it is strong and without a tremble. “I pity you, truly.”

She turns to walk away, her head pounding from the alcohol and the harsh words she has just said. Gripping the stool to steady herself, she takes a step in the direction towards the door before she feels a grip on her arm.

Turning her head, she is met again with that stone cold stare. But this time, his face has wavered slightly, either from her words or from her attempt at departing. He says nothing, just stares at her in a way that makes her both feel on fire and afraid. Trapped and free. Wanted and hated.

“Tell me about your failed marriage,” he says, without a hint of an apology. Still, Hermione detects no cruelty in his request, and probes him. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know how people that seemed to be destined for each other walk away from it all,” he says, with no trace of malice or sarcasm accompanying his words. His throat bobs, as if he is having difficulty swallowing.

Sensing his sincerity, she climbs back onto the stool next to him. She can’t bring herself to look at him, so instead she looks at the near empty glass on the surface in front of her. “I don’t really think we were a perfect match. I think that we had both been through the same trials, the same sorts of hardships, and that brought us together. But,” she said, taking a breath, “we didn't want the same things in life. I was more practical, and I wanted to work for a bit before having children. Ron came from a family where he was surrounded by siblings, and he wanted to have children right away. I wanted to teach healing, or potions, or something like that to young wizards and witches, but instead I went to work at St. Mungos because Ron didn’t want me to work those odd hours at Hogwarts. I just think we wanted different things, and that we started our marriage out with nothing but this horrible experience we had both endured and a bit of lust for each other.”

Draco nodded. He remembered how fast they had gotten engaged and married, almost as if they were on a deadline. Engaged at nineteen, married by twenty. No time to be free, young adults after school. He thought of his own years following Hogwarts, how he was free to be reckless and do as he wished. He thought of all the time he wasted, relying on Lucius’ money and power to make his mistakes disappear. Draco glanced at the girl next to him, with her scowling face and hair pulled back too tight, and he felt pity for her. Of course, he would not tell her that. Instead, he flagged down the bartender, ordering the both of them another drink.

She nodded at him in thanks as he slid the full glass over to her, taking a small sip. They both needed to stop drinking, as they were teetering on a dangerous slope between drunk and very drunk. But he didn’t care, and she had a sense of hopelessness in her.

“Astoria wanted a proper marriage, and I didn’t,” he said suddenly, causing Hermione to turn her head suddenly at him. “She wanted us to love one another, to have children and grow old together. She wanted us to be like my parents, but I could not see myself ever loving her. I only wanted to be wed to appease my parents, mainly my father.”

“Do your parents love each other? Like, truly love each other?” she asked him. He nodded, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

“Oh yes. My father was absolutely obsessed with my mother when they were younger, and now they share a love that I think most people can only hope for. But I think that, while they still love each other, there is this safety net around them that they have. My father, although he was pardoned in the end, seems to feel as if the two of them are being hunted. I suspect he is partially mad after his imprisonment, but he and my mother stay sheltered in the manor. They only socialize with a few people, and they rarely leave. I think that is why their love is so strong now, they are the only companions each other has.”

“Did you not find her attractive? Astoria, I mean,” Hermione asked him. Draco merely shrugged. “She was beautiful, everyone could see that. However, she was not a combination of features that I particularly liked,” he said plainly.

Hermione hummed in response, not brave enough to ask what features he did find attractive. She speculated that it was none of her business anyways, and that that was a rather uncomfortable conversation to have with him. He did not seem to want to elaborate, anyways, so Hermione turned back to her drink.

The two of them sat in silence, the only movement in the pub being the bartender and the ticking clock. Draco glanced up at the latter, noticing that there were only a few minutes until midnight. The liquid in his glass warmed him, made him feel vulnerable and sad. He was not used to those feelings, and sharing a drink with the girl near him was not making him any less uncomfortable. Looking at her quickly, he wondered if her hair was still as wild as it was in school. He wondered if it would tumble out of the tight bun she wore it in, flying around her shoulders, engulfing her head like a lion’s mane.

Someone clears their throat at the two of them, and they both look up to find the bartender watching them.

“Pub is closed in two minutes,” they tell the pair of moping young adults.

Hermione rummages around in her bag for coins to put on the bar, but stops when Draco sets down enough money to cover them both. She shakes her head at him, scowling.

“I don’t need you to pay for me, I have money.”

“I know,” he says, without a second thought. There is no malice, no hardness in him as he looks at her. Rather, Hermione sees indifference on his face. Something has shifted as he watches her get off the stool and walk towards the door.

Hermione feels Draco on her heels, his large body behind her as she opens the door to the pub and walks into the street. She turns to face him as he exits behind her, unsure of if she should bid him farewell or simply turn and leave.

“Do you live far?” he asks her. She shakes her head, pointing up the street. “I live in a flat above a shop on the high street. A ten minute walk at most,” she tells him, watching his face. He nods, and starts to walk that way.

“I don’t need to be accompanied,” she tells him flatly. He looks back at her, how she is flushed from drinking, and simply says: “You are not sober and it is dark.”

Hermione scowls. “You are not sober either, Malfoy. I am not some helpless wain, I can take care of myself.”

“I am trying to be nice.”

Nice. Hermione almost laughs at the word he uses to describe his intentions. She looks at the man, waiting to see him become angry with her. But he doesn’t, not even a bit. Instead, he stares with that same look of indifference as when he paid for her drink. Poor, poor Hermione, without a husband. She must have no money and be frightened to walk in the dark to her flat.

Huffing, she stomps past him. Not looking back or speaking to him, she walks along the street, hoping that he has turned the other way. About halfway to her house, she whips her head around to find him roughly fifty feet behind her.

“What is it you could possibly want?” she practically shouts in the street. Draco stops walking, raising an eyebrow at her outburst. For a moment he does not speak, merely watching her as she huffs and glares at him.

“Do you have whiskey at your flat?”

—-------------------------------------------------------

Hermione tries not to take notice as Draco surveys her very small living space, and she tries not to be offended when he wrinkles his nose slightly at the peeling walls and creaky floors.

“It’s a temporary space, until I can get my ducks in a row,” she says, trying to defend herself in front of a man who has had nothing but riches since birth.

Why had she let him up here? Hermione is trying to justify her drunken actions and thoughts, but she feels bad for the man standing in her kitchen. She can sense that he is sad and that he wants to just talk to someone who does not share his life.

Draco watches as she takes down two mismatched cups and a half drunk bottle of whiskey from her cupboard. She pours two hefty servings of the golden liquid before handing the bigger portion to him.

“Trying to get me to spill my secrets?” he says, taking the cup. She looks at him in confusion. “You asked for whiskey. I did not think you wanted a small sip and to be on your way,” she says plainly.

Draco says nothing, just takes a drink and gazes around the room. In her own home, Hermione is feeling out of place and uncomfortable. She doesn’t know how else to describe it, but he seems to take up the whole place with his energy and aura, leaving nowhere for her to be. Sipping the drink in her hand, she is reminded of her already tipsy nature as her cheeks flush warmly. Watching Draco, she notices the slight pink color that has crept into his cheeks. No doubt it is from drinking, but it humanizes him in a way she had not known before.

“Weasley left you with no money, then.” Draco doesn’t even make it sound like a question. He says the statement like it's a fact he knows firsthand.

Hermione frowns. “We split amicably. He has his money and I have mine. I just did not feel the need to buy some lavish place for just myself to temporarily exist in.”

Draco nods, drinking his drink quickly and suddenly. Hermione is perplexed as she watches him, wondering why he acts as if he needs to drown in liquor. “You are drinking like you want to spill your secrets,” she says, almost smiling.

“Perhaps,” he says, catching her off guard. And then he smiles. It is still cold and cruel, but it is a smile that curls on his face in a natural way. One Hermione didn’t expect to see, and she stares at his transformed face.

“Why are you here?” she asks suddenly. He looks at her, his eyes full of something she can’t detect and his face wavering with uncertainty. He doesn’t move his eyes from her face for what seems like a thousand years, just watching her confusion.

“I don’t want to go home,” he finally says. Hermione opens her mouth to respond, but he keeps going. “And I don’t want to face my parents, or even myself in that dreadful house. I want to talk to someone who has no idea what my life is like, and whose life I have no clue about. I want to drink until I can’t remember anything but my name and…” He pauses, his eyes scanning her face. Hermione watches him, how he looks unkempt and wild from his words.

“I want to know if your hair is still long and wild, and what it looks like out of that stupid bun you’re wearing.”

It is almost as if someone has removed the air from the room. Hermione can’t seem to breathe, and she wonders if Draco is also slowly suffocating. He is not though, as evident from his ragged and panting breath. His eyes are wild with… desperation? Regret? Confusion? Hermione can’t place it.

Draco watches her face, watches for any sign of disdain for him or his words. She shows none though, only looking at him in a soft way. Not as though she pities him, but perhaps that she has empathy for him at this moment. That she understands the need to talk to someone who is unbiased and unaware of the entire situation.

Hermione doesn’t know what compels her to do it. Her mind almost fights her hand on the matter, but she does it anyway. Reaching up to her hair, she undos the elastic that is holding the bun wound in place. She uncoils her hair, feeling it comes to life now free of its restriction. It is kinked in odd ways from the bun, but it soon falls in all its glory around her face and shoulders. Frizzy, unmanageable, messy, and imperfect.

Draco looks at it as if it is gold flowing from her scalp.

She stares at him and he stares at her, neither one of them speaking. Now Draco is the one who looks like he is having trouble breathing and Hermione is panting, feeling like a stranger in her kitchen. The alcohol in her system makes her both bold and terribly frightened as his eyes pierce into her.

Draco can’t take his eyes from her mane, the way it engulfs her face and features. Such a pity that she kept it tied up, out of his view for most of the night. His hand, as if possessed, reaches out to touch a loose wave that has found itself laying in front of her face. He looks at the hair, the way it lays between his fingers and looks dark in comparison to his pale skin.

Something in Hermione’s body shifts and she finds herself a slave to the alcohol. Stepping forward ever so slightly, she looks fully into Draco’s eyes. His hand is still near her face, holding the strand of hair. Gently, she reaches up and touches the hand that is by her cheek, watching his face carefully for any sign of negativity. She counts the seconds, one, two, three, but he does not pull away from her touch. On the fourth second, something clicks in Draco’s mind. Something that seemed to never have clicked before.

In a swift moment, on the fifth second, he steps forward and cradles her face in his hands, waiting one short moment to see if she pulls away. When she does not, he swiftly bends his neck down to meet her face and press a tentative kiss to her lips. He feels her breath hitch, but she does not move away. He kisses her again, less soft, and she still does not move away. On the third kiss, he feels her lips move to match his and he lets go.

Hermione feels on fire, both sure and unsure of her actions. Her lips move fast, not out of soft desire, but out of desperation and hunger. Hunger for a body, for physical touch, for the man who shared a few drinks and secrets with her. She reaches for his face, his hair, anything to get closer as their lips move in an uncoordinated manner.

Draco’s hands move away from her face, gripping her shoulders, then her arms, then finding themselves tangled in her long hair. She is trying to guide him out of the kitchen, breaking away to whisper something that he can’t hear over the pounding in her head. He bumps into a chair as he walks backwards, still trying to capture her lips and breath.

“Shit,” he says, pulling away for a moment to look behind him. Hermione doesn’t say anything, instead gently guiding him out of the kitchen and into the small adjacent room. There is nothing but a bed and a small night table, but at this moment she doesn’t need anything else.

Sitting on her bed, Draco meets Hermione’s level as she stands in front of him. He waits a moment, watching her face for any hint of regret. She only gazes at his lips, her eyes half lidded with desire, before closing the space.

They are messy for a minute, a tangle of hands and lips and teeth and tongues. But they settle into each other, breaking only so that he can attach his lips to her neck, her collarbone. She settles her hands in his hair once more, feeling like she needs to be closer, so much closer to him. Soft gasps leave her mouth, his lips and tongue caressing her skin and his hands roaming her back under her shirt.

“Draco,” she says, in a voice that she has not heard in years. He breaks away and looks at her, waiting. She touches the hem of his shirt and he knows, lifting his arms to allow her to remove it. He moves his eyebrows in question and she nods, letting him lift her shirt away.

Draco stares at her body, and he notices a slight squirm from her under his gaze. Hermione stares back, her eyes fixed on his torso. He is lean, muscular but thin, and so, so pale. She brushes a hand across his abdomen, causing him to shudder. His hands are resting on her upper back, his fingers slipping under the band of her bra.

Draco moves his head first, kissing her again with urgency. He tries and fails to unclasp the bra she has on, but Hermione meets his hands and does it for him. The bra falls to the floor, his hands migrating now to cup her breasts as he kisses her.

Hermione feels as though her skin is fire and his is ice. Every touch from him brings goosebumps and waves of chills to her body. She isn’t close enough to him, and she tries to crawl on him so that she can straddle him as he touches her. He stops her, pushing her back for a moment. She looks at him, thinking he has changed his mind, when he speaks.

“We need to undress.”

Nodding, she steps back. He stands and, with no second thought, removes the lower layer of his clothes. Draco watches as she does the same, the two of them standing naked in the dark room.

He sits back on the bed, holding a hand out to her. Once she touches him, he pulls her on top of him so that now she is seated in his lap on the bed. Hermione can feel him, hard and hot, pressing into her stomach as she sits there. She lowers her head so that she can place her lips on his neck and jaw, peppering kisses.

Draco’s hands are gripping her ass, pulling her closer to him as she kisses him. He reaches one hand lower, brushing her sex like he was asking it a question. Hermione moaned into his ear, pressing herself into his hand in response.

Not one to make her wait any longer, Draco slipped a finger inside of her. He watched her, his mouth open, as she moved on his hand. When he slipped a second finger into her, her eyes shut and she gripped his shoulders tightly. She was whimpering, making these small gasping sounds as she rode his fingers.

“Fuck,” he swore, worried he was going to come just from the sight of her moving and the sounds she was making. Hermione was lost to everything but him in the moment, feeling like her nerves were hardwired and electrifying in this moment. Her tits moved in his face, and he bent to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.

This felt good, too good. Hermione couldn’t think of anything but his fingers and his mouth. She felt herself, tightening and clenching around his fingers, inching closer to her finish. She could feel his eyes watching her, as she moved and moaned incoherently. Draco bit ever so slightly on the nipple he had in his lips, and that was it.

“Fuck,” she swore, eyes shut tight and her core pulsating around his hand as she came. She gripped him tightly, holding him in an embrace as she shook in his lap. He kept moving his finger in her, not stopping until she was limp and draped over his shoulder. He removes his fingers from her and kisses her shoulder, hands resting on her lower back.

Hermione tries to wedge her hand in between them so that she can touch him, but he stops her before she can. “Let me fuck you,” he says, less of a request and more of a command. She nods.

Draco picks her up off of him, laying her on her stomach on top of the bed. He positions himself behind her, pressing the full weight of him on top of her. Moving her hair to one side, he kisses her shoulder as he sheathes himself into her.

“Hermione,” he says, his voice soft and dirty. She responds with a whimper as he moves slowly in her, testing the waters.

Hermione moves back against him, urging him to be faster, harder. Draco notices and, with a soft grunt, starts to move with heavy and deep thrusts. She is trying to grab onto the sheets, the blanket, anything she can grip. He is placing sloppy kisses onto the side of her neck, and whispering things into her ears.

“Perfect, you feel perfect,” he says, biting her earlobe as he moves into her. He is consumed by how tight and wet and warm she is, how soft her skin is, the way her hair smells, the small noises she’s making. He is thrusting heavily, trying to be as close to her as he can. Her small body underneath his, writhing and rocking against him.

Hermione can’t think of anything but the way he feels in her. She is moaning nonsense, cursing and swearing and saying his name in this breathy voice that she doesn’t recognize. He is moving against her ass, her clit rubbing on the sheets every time he moves into her. It should be impossible to feel this full this good. There is hair in her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands are tangled in the blanket. She loves it.

“Fuck,” he says, and she feels him stutter in his movements. He slows slightly, but she moves against him. “It’s okay,” she says, gasping at how all consuming he is in her.

Draco understands, and resumes his deep, full motion inside of her. He attached his lips and teeth to her shoulder, her neck, wherever he can as he says her name over and over again.

Hermione, Hermione, Hermione.

Hearing her name, her first name, on his lips is the death of her. She cries out, tightening around his length, and her legs shake. He stutters again, groaning at the sensation. Draco gives one, two, three more motions before he stops, coming inside her.

They lay there for a moment, his body on top of hers, before he pulls out of her. She feels warm and wet in between her legs, and her face burns brightly. He is moving around, and she feels him get up off the bed. For a moment, she wonders if he plans to leave her like this.

Draco takes in the full view of her, laid out with cum on her thighs. He spots tissues on the nightstand and, after gazing at her one final time, reaches to wipe her legs clean.

The feeling makes Hermione shudder, who feels as though she has no more bones or muscles in her body. She rolls over once he is done, and she watches as he walks to the attached bathroom to toss the tissues away. She takes in his body, full and tall, as he does so.

Draco sees her, propped on her elbows, when he returns. Saying nothing, he bends down and kisses her. Lightly, gently, as if saying job well done. He scoots her over to one side of the bed, climbing next to her and letting her mold her back to his stomach.

Hermione’s body feels dead, and the heaviness from Draco mixed with his breath on her neck sends her into an all consuming slumber before she can process a new thought.

—-------------------------------

Waking, Hermione finds the bed to be empty beside her. Stretching her legs, she looks over at the small clock to find that it is just past four in the morning. A small pang of anger, sadness, whatever, fills her chest as she realizes that he has left.

Sitting up slowly, she stands to go get a drink of water from the kitchen. Opening the door to her bedroom, she is surprised to find the light on in the kitchen.

She is even more surprised to find him there.

“Sorry,” he says, glass in hand. “I thought you were still sleeping.”

“I thought you left.”

He stares at her, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

Hermione stands and looks at him. She shrugs, not even knowing what to say. “Felt like it was that sort of arrangement.”

Draco set his glass down. “There was no ‘arrangement’. I came to get water. If you prefer I leave, or sleep on the floor, tell me now and I will listen.”

Hermione shakes her head. “No- sorry. I don’t normally do this.”

“Neither do I.”

“Okay,” she says, watching him drink the rest of his water. He sets the glass down as she grabs a new one from the cupboard. “I’m going back to bed,” he says, before leaving her in the kitchen.

Drinking water, she watches him leave. She suspects that, in the morning, there will be awkward glances and few words. Perhaps then the feelings of regret will settle into them. But for now…

Hermione put the empty glass down, next to his. As she looked at the two glasses, she couldn’t help but feel glad. Glad that someone wanted her, glad that someone shared her bed tonight, glad that someone touched her and made her feel alive.

Even if it was him.

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Why do people give Harry more Black family storylines than Draco?!

It's hard being a Draco fan...well a canon Draco fan. If you want great fics that explore his character, you have to deal with a bunch of Drarry and sometimes Dramione. That's not even factoring in how OOC Draco is in so many of these fics. That's why I partly gave up on Drarry fics. It's almost impossible to find a good Draco fic that does not involve him shagging someone in the golden trio.

But this post was inspired by posts by Snaters and/or Dumbles antis who claim Harry should have named his son after Regulus. Here are my grievances:

There needs to be more exploration of DRACO as the Black heir

I don't know how Siri was able to keep his fortune when he was supposedly disowned but it's very frustrating seeing fics where Harry is the Black heir and becomes Lord Black. Just stop and think for a moment. Draco is literally the only pureblood Black offspring left! The Black line is basically extinct! And if you factor in Drastoria, Draco was willing to let his maternal AND paternal lines fade away! The only time Draco's Black heritage seems to be brought up is in fics where abusive Lucius disowns him. It's just sad. Harry is NOT a Black! As much as I love Godfather!Sirius, part of me is disgusted that Harry inherited Grimmauld's place. That house should belong to Narcissa and Draco and I don't care if I am the only one on this hill.

More Regulus & Draco, please!

People seem to prefer to write a relationship with Reggie and Harry. Which makes a bit of sense...but wouldn't it be more interesting to explore Draco & Reggie?? Draco and Regulus are family and they share quite a few similarities. I have seen some fics where Narcissa is so protective of DE!Draco because she sees him as a second chance after she failed Reggie. Or I have seen some fics where Regulus lives but so many of those center on Harry and Draco is lucky to be an afterthought. Why is Draco so divorced from his Black family? There's hardly any exploration with Draco & Sirius either. I don't even recall Draco expressing any feelings about Sirius as a family member in book 3 when the dude is his cousin! Draco, Harry's rival, is related to his beloved godfather and NOTHING is done with this! Like WTH!!!

The positive side!

At least there are incredible fics out there that explore Draco's relationship with Andy and the Tonks family. I love Dora being Draco's surrogate big sister 🤩. So cute!!! I also like the Tonks family being involved in Draco's redemption and Ted being so fatherly towards Draco. Chef's kiss. Please, let Draco interact with his family 😞! Why is JKR so against Draco having a family?! Even his damn wife dies in CC!!! He only has one kid! Please, give this man an extended family!

[draqo-pctter]

In Between The Silence

A Dramione Twilight AU

Hermione Granger, in an effort to escape her parents' divorce and earn an acceptance to Cambridge, has accepted a scholarship to Hogwarts Boarding School, one of the top-ranked schools in the UK. While there, she meets a group of students her friends call the Fae -- and they live up to their name, practically floating down the halls with their pitch-black or honey-colored eyes while keeping to themselves.

Soon enough, however, she learns that they aren't humans or fae at all but something much more sinister. And their presence has awoken another animal so ancient the world had laughed its existence away.

chapter 1/6 – first sight

mind the tags & let’s enjoy the vampire draco brain rot Dramione Month gifted me with ✨

[minimindi]

Chaperoning the Yule Ball -WIP

I'm challenging myself to write this one shot story at 10,000+ words! So far my longest one shot is a little over 8,000, and I have longer stories in the works (read: in my head lol). I want to gain more confidence with the one shot formats before I really tackle the bigger world-building stories.

This one shot has Malfoy being the world's best dad to his very gay son lol and I'm totally here for it! Happy Pride my fellow LGBTQIA+ fam ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤎🩷🩵🤍🩶

Excerpt:

“OW! Dammit Granger you really do have to stop hitting me. What?”

“Look at your son, Malfoy! It’s happening! Albus laid a peck on his lips just now. Poor Scorp is frozen up and hasn’t moved for a whole 60 seconds.”

“Salazar’s saggy balls. He gets kissed by the boy of his dreams and he just freezes?! And with a kiss this public, it’s not just a kiss. It’s a public claim. Fucking hell boy, MOVE! Kiss him back!” he whisper-shouted. 

As if he could hear his father’s words from across the room, Scorpius came out of his shock and smiled the dopey-ist grin Hermione had ever seen, then proceeded to blush all the way down to his shirt collar, probably even further if she had to guess. Albus took this as the obvious “yes” that it was and leaned up to kiss him again. Scorpius leaned down to meet him halfway but overcompensated the lean and ended up kissing the boy’s chin. “Did… did he just… Merlin, he just missed! I can’t watch this anymore. Granger, tell me when he finally kisses the damn Potter boy."

[dramioneasks]

It was on that Dramione only website and it’s name started from H? Or had a word that started from H but can’t remember. I think it’s closed now, but I wonder if someone knows it’s somewhere else too?

Basically not a Dramione ending. Draco cheats on her, Hermione knows he’s much happier with the other woman and buys her jewellery and stuff. So she decides to leave him, Lucius is sad? Scorpius has to stay with D since it’s like that in that family. Draco “tries to persuade her to stay”, but H knows it’s not genuine? Or not and is okay with leaving. She’s ready for her new life.

I wonder if the author has an account on fanfiction.net or aoo.

Anyone?

Edit: Thanks!

crookshanksthekitty63:

[xelasrecords]

My ultimate comfort fics aka the ones that I always go back to whenever I want to sink deeper into sadness when I'm already swimming in it, in no particular order (category is heavy angst with a pinch of, or no optimism):

i could only be myself with you around @gureishi: Jumin comes home unlike himself and you talk him through it. Smutty bathroom scene at the end.

2:15am by crackleviolet (AO3): V lost his sight at 2:15am, but that's not what stayed with him the most.

He set fire to the world... by senlinyu (AO3): Dramione. “He set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her.”

endure by @bloodpacks-archive: Jihyun tries to bandage his injuries alone.

"Stay here tonight." by @mysticmikalla: one last time with Jumin before the divorce is final.

Beautiful by @cafedanslanuit: Jihyun has a couple of burn scars on his torso after the fire that took his mother’s life. You make sure you know he loves every part of him.

2:47am by nighttimefear (AO3): fear of not being loved using Jumin as a means of comfort.

Post-Surgery MC by @edgelord-saeran: MC keeps her surgery from Jumin and Jihyun.

strawberry sundays by @c4ssiopeias: poly Gojo and Geto feat reader in a depressive episode.(I'm not in this fandom but the writing is just too good)

The Last Time by @cafedanslanuit: No matter how much you pressed Draken and his friends for answers, you couldn't understand why he had decided to end things out of the blue. But now he's at your place, his head between your thighs and you wonder if you can make him change his mind. (Not my fandom either I just like to read about emotional breakup sex)

in order to get to the heart by @juminies: Jumin. Marriage of convenience, on occasion, is not so convenient.

Manacled Severus/Hermione by senlinyu (AO3): a spin-off/deleted scene from Manacled with Hermione and Snape both going through some things. (I don't ship them. And yet.)