#dramione oneshots

[theodorenottwhore]

- patience is a virtue

[Draco Malfoy + you + Theodore Nott]

[minors do not interact! this is for those above the age of 18+]

“sometimes…I think about you both sharing me”

Theo closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to not act flustered, which didn’t work very well. When he opened his eyes again, they quickly roamed over you again, up and down, taking in as much as he could

“And do you have a particular favourite scenario you imagine princesa?”

“maybe”

He raised his eyebrows slightly and smirked as he stepped a bit closer. “Go on. Tell me. I wanna know all your little… “thoughts”

You lean against the wall of the corridor

“I don’t think it’s very school appropriate Nott”

He smirked again but a chuckled followed it this time and he leaned in closer “So? Since when do I care about what school approves of?”

“You really want to know what I think about? when I’m alone…in bed..?” You whisper

He looked around to make sure no one else was around. “Yeah, I’m pretty curious to know” He said as he leaned in even closer now

“Mm well..usually it starts off like this…you both cornering me against a wall..”

He swallowed as he leaned closer and whispered right in your ear “Oh yeah? And then what do we do after that?

“you both lead me back into an empty classroom.. forcing me back against the door”

He started to get a bit flustered at the image he was starting to imagine. He put one of his hands on the door and leaned in closer

“Go on, tell me more” His voice was low and had a rasp to it that hadn't been there before

“You’re both talking but I’m never fully listening..I’m too busy looking at both of you”

He chuckled lowly and put his other hand just above your head. He leaned into you as he spoke into your ear again

“Looking at us both, huh? Is there anything else going on in your mind while your just.. staring at us?”

“I guess we’ll never know”

Theo continued down the end of the hall and into the common room where Draco was sitting in a chair, reading. Once Theodore reached him, he lowered his voice and leaned over his chair

“Malfoy, you need to come with for a sec”

Draco lowers his book, eyebrow raised.

He leaned down a bit closer

“Just… come with me. You gotta see this” Theo urged.

Malfoy sighs, “where are we going?”

He motions towards the door

“Come on, just follow me for a minute”.

The sound of classroom door opening startles you and makes you turn

“Theo is that you?”

Theo stands in the doorway, his frame blocking the other figure behind

“hi princesa” he smirks, entering the room.. with Malfoy trailing behind him

“What’s going on?” You ask.

Both of the boys look at you, Theodore gives you a small smirk while Draco looks at you with a mix of confusion and interest

“h-hi Draco” you say looking down nervously

Draco gives you a small smirk and looks you up and down as he walks closer to you. He’s now directly in front of you. “Well hello”.

You turn to look at Theo who has just closed the door shut firmly

Draco raises an eyebrow and lifts your chin so you’re looking at him “You don’t have to be nervous around us, darling.”

“Theo told you” I say, not really asking.

He chuckles and looks over at Theodore who nods

“Yeah, he did. Quite an interesting conversation if you ask me”

“What did you think?”

“What do I think?” He paused as his gaze started to get a bit darker and he leaned in closer to you. “Oh I loved hearing all the little things you think about when your alone at night darling.”

“You did?”

He hummed in agreement and now he was standing directly in front of you. A smirk was still on his face as he whispered in your ear

“Of course I did. I found it quite interesting to hear about all the things you fantasize about”

“Theo said you liked me Malfoy..i-is that true?”

He chuckles, still standing right in front of you, practically boxing you in

“I do like you. I’ve always thought you were very attractive” He put his hand just beside your head and leaned right in to whisper in your ear again.

“And then I found out about all those things you want to do with me and Theo… and I liked you even more”

This makes me visibly shiver, and you press my chest against his while making eye-contact with his friend just standing a few feet away.

Both boy’s eyes widen as your body presses up against Draco. He can’t help but look down at your chest that is now squished up against him. Theodore leans in a bit closer, as you make eye content with him.

“Careful darling” Draco warns.

“why” you whisper.

Theo let’s out a small chuckle, while Draco’s breath catches in his throat. He looks down at you, eyes roaming all over before he says “because if I touch you. I won’t be able to stop”

Your breath hitches and your heart is racing. You’re unable to form words.

Draco’s eyes darken as his breathing gets heavier, but his manages to keep his composure

“How do you want us to touch you Darling?”

“I want you to touch me like you do in my dreams”

Draco’s breath hitches again and his voices becomes huskier. “And how do we touch you in your dreams?”

“Like you’re afraid you’ll never be able to stop”

Draco takes another step forward, our bodies pressed together in a way that seems impossible. You’re completely pinned against the wall now, while he still speaks in his low voice

“Is that what you want? To be touched like we might never get to do it again?”

“Yes.”

Draco’s breath quickens again and his eyes dark even more as he moves his face so it’s hovering just above your neck. Theo leans in to whisper in my our ear again “so you want us to touch you here Princesa? Right now? Where anyone could walk in?”

You whimper “Please Theo..Draco.”

He lets out a small chuckle but it’s very low and and huskier than his normal one. “So eager..”

He looks at Draco from behind me. “What do you think Draco? Should we give her what she wants?”

“Please” I beg.

Draco hums in agreement as his breath tickles your neck. He’s still holding you, pinned between him and the wall and his breath on your neck is sending chills down your spine.

“Since you asked so nicely darling.”

I let out a soft moan at his words.

Both boys are staring at you now, their eyes darkened from lust and desire.

“Oh? you like us calling you darling hm?”

“you know I do”

“You’ll be glad to know we’ve both thought about you plenty of times” Theo added

“what do you think about?”

“We think about a lot of things Darling, like how you’d look laying down, completely bare and at our mercy.”

Both Draco’s and Theo’s eyes widen slightly when you put your hand on them. They’re both breathing heavier and you can tell they’re barely holding themselves back from taking you right here, right now. Theo leans in close, his face right next to yours as he speaks again

“Oh Princesa, you look so pretty, desperate like this”

“Please”

He smirks, as does Draco. They’re both fully pressed up against you now, making it so you have nowhere to go. Their entire bodies are pressed against you while the boys are still trying to hold themselves back from completely loosing control. “Please what?”

“Please touch me..both of you”

Both boys let out very low hums at your request. They both keep staring at you for a moment, as if they’re silently asking each other “is this really okay?” After a few seconds, Draco finally speaks “you just can’t wait for us to touch you, can you doll? You want it now don’t you?”

“Please” I whisper again, arching my back.

Both boy’s eyes darken at the arch of your back and then can both tell how desperate you are for them, which makes them want you even more. It’s getting hard for them not to just pounce on you right now. Theo smiles at you as he speaks again “so impatient aren’t we?”

“I need you both.”

Both boys hum in agreement again and Theo speaks again, still holding that same smile on his face, as he watches you.

“We can’t help but give into your begging baby, you’ve been such a good girl. You deserve this”

Beyond desperate at this point, you run your hands up and down Theo’s chest, while Draco lets out a low groan as you rub yourself against his hard-on. You can tell they’re both holding themselves back.

Draco’s breath on your neck gets even heavier as he speaks “is this what you want darling? To be completely squished between us?”

“It’s all I want”

“Alright darling, you’ll get what you want. But we’d like to hear you say it. Say you want us”

“I want you Draco, Theo. Please. I want you both”

The boys are getting even more desperate for you as you admit that you want them. Theo let’s out a smirk and says “we like the sound of that, say it again.”

“Please..” you moan, a tear falling down your cheek as you reach one hand behind you to grasp the back of Draco’s neck, while the other goes to grab Theo’s hand, putting it on your chest.

Theo growls loudly and you can feel Draco growing even harder behind you.

“God you’re fucking desperate”

“I’ll do anything”

“Anything?” Draco whispers, blowing air on your neck

“Anything” I confirm

Draco let’s put a low hiss and presses himself even harder against you as you roll your hips against him. Theo also let’s put a groan as you move your hand towards his belt. They’re struggling. You can tell.

“You’re so pretty like this, so desperate. You’d really do anything wouldn’t you?”

“yes. Anything. Just please fucking touch me”

Before you can even finish speaking, they both start touching you. Their hands start to roam your body, desperately trying to touch every inch of you. They start trailing down your skin, to your chest, your hips, everywhere. Holding back is nearly impossible for them.

“Fuckk” you moan, resting your head against Draco’s chest while brushing your hand against Theo’s bulge.

Draco groans loudly and grabs your hips, pushing his cock against your backside. They continue to touch you all over. As you brush against Theo’s length he hisses and grabs your hand. “Don’t do that unless you’re ready for what comes next” he says in a even huskier voice again.

Fuck it.

Still rocking my hips against Draco, you reach forward and force your lips onto Theo’s.

Theo is caught off guard but quickly regains his composure and begins to kiss you back, desperate for your touch. The kiss is deep and passionate as both boys confine to touch you all over. Draco moans again in your ear, nuzzling his face into your neck.“you’re driving us fucking crazy” He starts trailing kisses up and down your skin, trying to find all your sensitive spots.

Theo continues to kiss you, his tongue still exploring your mouth. Both boys are groaning and moaning as they try and satisfy their desperate need for you.

Slowly pulling away from Theo, lips swollen, you then turn your head back to meet Draco who hums loudly when your lips connect with his. He kisses you hungrily, needing to feel your lips on his as he moves his hands move to your hips again. He deepens the kiss, his tongue quickly working it’s way into your mouth as he moans.

They continue to switch places and Theo starts kissing and biting the skin of your neck while Draco occupies your mouth. They’re both groaning as they try to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Both boys moan loudly as you start grinding against them both again. They’re needing to touch you even more and so Draco pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and starts sucking on it, while Theo’s hands bare caressing your chest, his own breath becoming deeper with need as he speaks into your ear.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”

“I need more” you pant between kisses.

Both of them hum in agreement, clearly wanting you just as much as you want them. Draco kisses you harder while Theo bites into your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. “Yeah? you want more?”

“Please”

They love how polite and submissive you sound for them.

“Good girl” Draco growls

Draco holds your hips tightly in place as Theo’s hands stop roaming your body when he looks down to see you unbuckling his belt.

“You want our clothes off mi amor?”

“I want all of it off.”

“mhm, we’ll give you what you want”

It’s not enough. Theo smirks when you turn around smack your lips on his. He puts his hand on the back of your head and desperately kisses you again, trying to still maintain some small shred of control, but you’re making it difficult. They both start to loose control of themselves even more. But as soon as you bite down on his lip and draw blood, Theo looses it and let’s out a very low and loud moan.

Draco grins as he watches you and Theo and he suddenly grips your ass and smacks you with force.

“You’re being such a bad slut for us. We’re gonna have to punish you”

“Then punish me daddy”

They’re both completely gone now, lost in lust.

“We might just have to bend you over and make you take what’s coming to you”

You grab his bulge. He whimpers. “You really want me to bend you over and force my cock inside you? Make you take it?”

“Make me take it Draco”

That’s the last straw, a fire comes in their eyes.

“This is your last chance to back out.” Theo whispers

“Do your worst”

They look at each other for a second and nod, agreeing to what they’re about to do. You got what you wanted and now they were going to give it to you.

“Take your fucking shirt off”

Draco and Theo watch intently as you start to unbutton your shirt, both of them are completely focused on you as they wait for you to show them what lies underneath. They’re both breathing heavily as they admire your body, wanting and needing you so badly.

They stare as your shirt falls to the ground and they see your dark green bra that leaves nothing to the imagination. Their need for you is nearly consuming them.

They’re both still staring at your body, deep lustful moans falling from their lips when you tell them that you wore their house colour for them.

The boys shake their heads as you plead for them to stop holding back. Any self control they had is now long gone and they won’t let anything, or anyone, stop them from having you.

As you stumble back and brace yourself against professor Snape’s desk, Draco speaks again. “You belong to us. Do you understand?”

“Prove it”

Draco stands behind the desk, his eyes glued to your bra and the flesh threatening to spill out, while Theo remains in front, staring at you sinisterly.

Draco eyes harden even more as he glances over at Theo who then looks back at him. They know what you want. They communicate silently and then nod as they begins to aggressively undress you.

Theo smiles as he feels the cold air hit your skin when he undoes your bra. He runs his hands gently over your tits, caressing your skin, enjoying the feeling of your body now that he finally has you.

Draco’s eyes don’t leave your chest, in fact he reaches forward, rubbing your sensitive nipples between his fingers.

“Theo..” you whimper

“What is it hm?”

“Take off my panties”

Theo hums to himself, a small smirk spreading across his face.

“Of course Doll” he slowly moves his hands up your thighs, and hooks his fingers into your underwear, starting to work them down your legs.

Draco stares as he watches your last item of clothing hit the floor. They’re both practically foaming at the mouth now that they can see how good you look.

Theo moves around to behind you, taking you by the hips as he growls “You’re so fucking mine”

Draco keeps you in place, making sure you don’t get a chance to turn around, while Theo’s hands stay on your hips, Draco stays in front but his hands leave your body.

“W-What are you doing?” You whimper

Draco takes of his shirt and smiles at Theo as he responds to your question.

“Watch and find out”

Theo turns your head towards him roughly and starts to kiss you, keeping you distracted. While your head is turned, Draco runs his hands up and down your thighs.

“Theo..you should take off your shirt too..”

“Patience is a virtue Princesa”

Draco grins as he rubs a finger against your soaking wet clit, you gasp into Theo’s mouth.

“Do I touch you like this in your dreams?”

“Fuck yes..Draco..”

Draco tuts when you curse, pulling his finger away that’s covered in your arousal.

“Mm look how fucking wet you are for me.. for us”

“I need you both inside me.”

The boys both continue to grin and laugh as you beg for them. They love seeing how desperate you become.

Draco’s fingers rub against your pussy, making you cry out. Theo is still kissing you, keeping your lips occupied. The need and lust is so strong as they continue to play with your body.

“Put your fingers inside me Malfoy” I growl.

Draco smirks at your command, his hard cock pressed right up against your heat.

“You want his fingers deep inside this tight little cunt Bella?” Theo asks, his tongue moving across your neck.

“Please Draco”

Theo moans when you pull his trousers down and Draco mockingly sighs when you wrap your legs around him. He glances behind you to look at Theo’s boxers and then back up at you as he says “he’s big isn’t he? Do you think you can take him?”

Theo grins at Draco’s words as he watches you slowly pull down his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock to you.

“Theo..you’re so thick”

“Yeah? that’s what you do to me. You make me so fucking hard Bella”

Draco rocks his hips against your pussy, his cock straining against his trousers, but he pulls back a little, just to watch as you wrap your hand around his best friend’s cock.

“Look at what you do to us darling, you drive us to insanity, look at how hard you’ve made us”

You moan at his words. Then instead of kissing you, he quickly turns towards Theo and pulls him in for a kiss.

Watching Theo’s tongue meet Draco’s is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can’t help but let out the most desperate of moans, and hearing you moan makes the boys even more eager.

Theo groans as you stroke him harder and faster, needing you all the more. Watching you is almost too much for them.

The boys pull always reluctantly, needing to kiss you again.

Draco grunts and pulls his boxers down in one swift motion, freeing himself. Then he roughly yanks you off the desk, forcing you onto your knees on the floor in front of them both.

They both watch as you hit the floor, the sound of your body meeting the floor echoing around the classroom. There is a burning need in their eyes.

Both of them look down at you as you’re naked on the floor, the sight of you body is too much and they’re trying to make this last.

They stand and watch as you slowly begin to stroke them both. Draco closes his eyes hissing and throws his head back. The feeling of your hand on them is nothing like they’ve ever experienced before. They moan loudly.

Draco groans as Theo turns to him and grabs his neck. He kisses Theo back, letting himself get lost in the moment, lost in the feeling of Theo’s lips and your hand wrapped around his cock.

They both pull away when they hear you moan again, just for a second, to look at you. But, seeing you on the floor in front of them, rubbing your pussy against the ground, immediately wipes all thoughts from their minds.

Draco roughly shoves your hand away from his cock and pulls your head forward, forcing his cock down your throat. You instantly gag, your eyes water uncontrollably. Theo thrusts his hips into your hand, desperate for your touch. Watching Draco fuck your mouth is too much.

“god look at you. Such a fucking slut. Taking two cocks. God you love this don’t you? you love it when I stuff my cock down your slutty throat.” Draco mocks.

They both continue to watch the sight of you struggling. But then, Draco moans as Theo suddenly pulls you off Draco’s cock and decides it’s his turn.

Drool is running down your chin and your eyes are watering so much that you’re struggling to see.

They’re using you for their pleasure and you couldn’t care less.

They take turns fucking your mouth, they watch as your eyes roll back and you choke on their cocks. But they can see you’re struggling.

Theo is completely lost in the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hand holds your neck, his thumb resting on the bulge where his cock keeps entering.

Draco keeps your head in place.

You can’t breathe? not their problem.

you wanted to be used.

“Gonna fill this mouth with my cum Bella, ‘gonna take turns fucking filling you up. Fucking want to watch you scream and cry and as I breed this tight pussy.”

They weren’t even touching you and you could feel it. You were close. God. They hadn’t even fucking touched you and you were about to cum on the fucking floor.

“Look at her shaking, rubbing herself against the floor. She’s gonna fucking cum Theo” Malfoy sniggers

“Yeah? you gonna cum Bella? just from me fucking your throat? fucking puta. God.. FUCK..Malfoy.. she’s taking it so well isn’t she? my personal fucktoy”

“Hurry up and cum Theo, I want to fuck my load inside her sweet pussy” Draco groaned, turning Theo’s head so that they could kiss again.

“f-fuck, Malfoy”

“Mhm f-mhm” you couldn’t even form words, how could you? Theo’s cock was practically in your stomach, he was so far down your throat.

“that’s it, fuck I’m cumming” was all the warning you got before Theo slammed his length down your throat one last time. Liquid gushed from your pussy, spilling across the floor. Your clothes were soaked in your own juices.

All you could taste was his cum. There was so much of it.

But you weren’t done yet. It was malfoy’s turn. And you had only just begun.

“You ready darling?”

This took so long!! But I hope you guys enjoyed!

[houseofsnakesanddragons]

New work

Hello!

I have returned from my deep slumber with a new story. I think I have told everyone I know that I am a big fan of @dara-art and for the longest time, I have wanted to write something of my own based on this photo. Here is the oneshot "Before the Dawn" :)

[dramionestills]

i have to say something

i have seen so many people on tiktok that are discovering fanfiction because they read Manacled and I am concerned for those people

like Manacled is a masterpice truly but as your intro to fanfic????

i had like 15 years of getting used to how intense it could get and Manacled still broke me, if that is your intro i am so sorry, do you need a blanket? some tea? a muffin? more tissues??

[tippilo]

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Ginny asks, inspecting Hermione’s all black dress. “I mean, not that you don’t look positively ravishing, but are you really going to wear black to your wedding?”

Hermione glares at her friend. “I think it’s perfectly appropriate when you are marrying Draco Malfoy. This is a day of mourning.”

Read The Only One HERE, on AO3

My first oneshot! Thank you @dara-art for the support, inspo, and streams of amazing art 🤍

This was written for dramione month(by @dhrmonth ) with their prompt “Marriage Contract”.

Dara is hosting a “Draw this in your style” based on this image for reaching 20k followers! She is accepting enteries until October 19 (details under original post on her page!)

[noxmalfoy]

[escapeinmybookshelf]

Cover art by @artofcrumbs Draco Malfoy begins his new career as the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Two years after he began teaching, a newly appointed Charms Professor Hermione Granger joins the faculty. Smutty one shot.

[myeuphoricmindset]

Through the Maze of Desire

Draco Malfoy & Hermione Granger

Read on ao3

Summary | Hermione attends a New Year’s Eve masquerade ball, where a mysterious man in a hooded cloak keeps his gaze fixed on her all night. (Inspired by Pride and Prejudice / Bridgerton) 

Warnings/Tags | No warnings. Intense yearning and angst. No smut, but you’ll be satisfied.

Word count | 5.4k

The stranger in the dark cloak had been watching her all night.

She couldn’t see his eyes beneath the shadowed hood, but Hermione could feel them—sharp and unrelenting, like a tangible weight pressing against her. A shiver ran across her skin, and the air seemed heavier around her, thick with tension.

When the hood tilted in her direction as she moved toward the bar at the far end of the dance floor, it made one thing abundantly clear—whoever he was, he wanted her to know he was watching.

Hermione turned away, forcing herself to take slow, steady breaths as she slipped into the queue behind a couple of chatting guests. She swirled the last remnants of champagne in her glass, her mind racing to identify the mysterious man.

Padma Patil certainly knew how to throw a party—and her guest list was extensive enough that Hermione couldn’t be sure whether she’d ever met the man beneath the hood. And she knew a lot of people, but she would have remembered someone with a prescance you could feel across a room.

The line shuffled forward, and she stepped closer to the bar, but the prickling sensation along the back of her neck only grew stronger. She tried to shake it off, tossing back the last sip of champagne in a bid to calm her nerves.

Hermione was no stranger to being watched; people had stared at her often enough over the years. Since leaving school and growing into herself, she had become accustomed to the occasional lingering gaze. But this? Bloody hell, this was entirely different.

She told herself she wouldn’t look again. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her curiosity. But her resolve faltered. Maybe it was the champagne thrumming faintly in her veins, or the heady mystique of the masquerade ball itself, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had to look.

Her gaze drifted casually across the swirling crowd of elegantly dressed guests, over the gleaming snowflake ice sculpture glistening in the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, until it landed on him.

Someone in a sleek black mask and a Slytherin green suit stood beside him, deep in conversation. But the hooded stranger remained unwavering, he was facing her direction as though he could see nothing and no one else.

It nearly made her breath catch, the sensation of being so thoroughly seen.

There was something about him—perhaps the way he stood, tall and poised, embodying a calm, unspoken power. Or maybe it was the way he held his firewhisky, cradling it loosely in his long fingers, every movement deliberate, almost hypnotic. Whatever it was, she couldn’t pull her gaze away.

Slowly, he raised the glass to his lips, the rim disappearing into the inky shadow beneath his hood. Her attention caught on his pale hands again—elegant and precise, his fingers curling nearly around the entire glass.

As if he sensed her gaze, his finger gently tapped in time with the rhythm of the music drifting from the band.

“Enchanting, isn’t it?”

Hermione jolted, her champagne glass slipping slightly in her grip. She turned sharply, heat rushing to her cheeks as though she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “What?”

Luna Lovegood stood beside her, smiling serenely, her gaze lifted to the sky. Her ice blue mask glittered in the glow of the heat-charmed lanterns that floated overhead, radiating gentle warmth against the crisp winter night.

“The moon,” Luna said dreamily, gesturing upward. “It’s lovely tonight, isn’t it?”

Hermione exhaled a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus. “Oh. Yes. Beautiful.” She glanced at the moon, its pale light cutting through the enchanted snowfall drifting lazily over the dance floor.

When it was her turn at the bar, the bartender refilled her glass and handed Luna a fresh one.

"Happy New Year," Hermione said, clinking her glass against Luna's in a quiet toast, trying to shake off the lingering tension and act as though everything was normal.

She took a deep sip, hoping the drink would calm the thrum of energy in her chest. For a moment, she felt as if she had been in a trance, and then, a wave of embarrassment washed over her. She had been staring at a complete stranger, completely oblivious. Ridiculous. Another sip cooled the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Have you danced yet?” Luna asked.

Hermione hesitated, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. “No, I don’t think I will,” she admitted, resisting the nagging urge to glance over her shoulder. Instead, she focused on Luna. “Are you here with Rolf?”

Luna’s face lit up, her cheeks pink from the cold, though her smile remained unwavering. “Yes, I am. There he is,” she said, tilting her head toward the crowd gathered near the edge of the dance floor. “Coming this way now.���

Hermione turned, her gaze landing on Rolf Scamander, who was weaving through the crowd with a natural ease. He looked polished in a suit that complimented Luna’s icy blue dress, but her attention snagged on the familiar figure beside him.

Ron Weasley.

His steps were less certain, his hands jammed into his pockets as though trying to ward off the cold. When his eyes found Hermione, they brightened briefly, though his posture tensed.

“Ron,” Luna called, her voice carrying easily over the soft hum of conversation. She waved them closer, her grin widening.

Rolf gave Hermione a polite nod as they approached. “Happy New Year, Miss Granger,” he said, his tone warm and reserved.

“Happy New Year,” Hermione replied, smiling faintly.

“Hermione,” Ron said a beat later, his voice awkward but warm. His eyes darted to her red dress, lingering for a moment. “You look… really nice.”

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a small but sincere smile. “So do you.”

He wore deep burgundy robes that hung just a touch too loosely on his shoulders, the gold trim catching the light with each step. His mask, a simple bronze piece with a faint shimmer, fit snugly across his face, highlighting the freckles scattered along his nose. Despite the formality of his attire, there was something endearingly familiar about him—his awkward movements and the way he tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves spoke of a man far more comfortable in a jumper than evening robes. Years have passed and yet he has still not grown into himself. Still, the effort he’d made was clear, and Hermione found herself smiling softly as their eyes met.

Ron flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

The pause that followed was short but heavy. Hermione could feel the shadow of their past conversation lingering between them—the one where he had confessed, and she couldn’t reciprocate. Though they’d made an effort to move past it, things were different now, the ease of their old friendship elusive. Guilt that she knew she shouldn’t carry tightened in her chest.

“It’s such a magical night,” Luna said, breaking the silence, her voice light and ethereal. She reached for Rolf’s arm, her gown fluttering softly in the cold breeze. “Don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” Rolf agreed, his tone steady. “The fairy lights are a fine touch. And the charmed snowflakes—they never melt, you know.”

“They’re beautiful,” Hermione said, glancing up at the enchanted flakes drifting lazily from the starlit sky.

Ron shifted awkwardly beside her. “Yeah. Nice. A bit cold, though,” he muttered, huffing into his hands to warm them.

Hermione stifled a laugh but allowed herself a small smile. “It’s winter, Ron.”

“Oh, let’s dance!” Luna’s sudden, cheerful exclamation cut through the soft music floating across the garden, blissfully unaware of the lingering awkwardness between Hermione and Ron.

Hermione shook her head, already thinking of excuses. Dancing wasn’t part of her plan—not tonight. She’d only come because Padma had practically begged her, insisting that she attend at least one of her parties. Hermione had always declined in the past, using her workload as a convenient excuse. But it was New Year’s Eve, and the late hour made her usual reasons feel flimsy. So, here she was, doing her best to be a good friend.

She’d already made her rounds, chatting politely with other guests and complimenting Padma on the beauty of the evening. But the clock was ticking, and Hermione’s mind was on her escape plan, sneak out before the stroke of midnight, curl up on the couch with Crookshanks, and warm herself by the fire.

What wasn’t in her plan? Dancing.

Luna’s eyes were gleaming with enthusiasm. “It’s the perfect night for it. Rolf and I haven’t danced yet either, but I think we’ll start now.” She turned to Ron, her ever-present smile growing even brighter. “You and Hermione should join us!”

“I don’t know about that…” Ron mumbled, trailing off.

Hermione hesitated, her gaze drifting across the dazzlingly decorated lawn to where she had glimpsed the cloaked figure earlier. The pull lingered, like a magnetic thread gently tugging at the edges of her awareness. But she willed herself to shake it off—especially when her eyes met Ron’s. The sadness in his expression was unmistakable, and it stirred her guilt, rising uncomfortably to the surface once more.

“Come on,” Luna said brightly, already leading Rolf toward the dance floor. Around them, couples gilded gracefully under twinkling lights and glowing lanterns, their steps weaving seamlessly with the enchanting music.

Ron turned to Hermione, his face caught between hope and uncertainty. “What do you think? One dance?”

One dance wouldn’t hurt—not as much as the look in his eyes did.

“Okay,” Hermione said softly.

They stepped onto the makeshift dance floor—a circle of glimmering frost beneath an open sky. The soft strains of the waltz filled the air as they took their positions. Ron’s hands were hesitant as they settled on hers, his movements awkward at first.

“You’re doing fine,” Hermione murmured, guiding him slightly as they started moving.

“This isn’t as bad as I thought,” he admitted after a moment, managing a crooked smile.

She gave a small laugh. “No, it’s not.”

For a brief moment, the tension between them dissipated, and they moved together with surprising ease. Hermione tried to anchor herself in the present, yet a faint tug at the edge of her awareness refused to let go. She resisted the urge to glance back at the cloaked figure, keeping her focus firmly on Ron instead.

Still, she couldn’t shake the thought that the unsettling sensation of being watched stirred something deeper within her than Ron ever had.

His cold hands gripped her waist as he spun her around. Despite the absence of real feelings for him, it was nice to see him again, and the dance, she had to admit, wasn’t entirely unpleasant. At the very least, it was warming her up from the chill of the winter night.

As the violins soared into a new melody, the enchanted orchestra seemed to take on a life of its own, the air shimmering with an expectant hum. Above the crowd, a luminous clock hovered, its hands inching closer to midnight.

A rich, magical voice rang out over the hall, “Ladies and gentlemen, the Turning of the Year Dance is about to begin. A tradition to welcome renewal and connection. Take your places!”

Hermione looked up at Ron, her brow furrowing. “What’s the Turning of the Year Dance?”

“I dunno,” Ron muttered, shifting uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sounds… complicated. Maybe we should just get off the dance floor before—”

“Oh, you’ll love it!” Luna’s airy voice interrupted as she appeared beside them, her mask glittering. She twirled a strand of her hair, as if the music had already enchanted her. “It’s a dance for discovery. You’ll find it’s not about knowing all the steps. You just… follow the magic.”

Before Hermione could protest, the music surged, pulling her into its rhythm. The dancers moved around her like ripples in a pond, and she suddenly found herself across from Ron, his face hesitant but resigned as Luna gently nudged them into place.

“Er… guess we’re doing this,” Ron mumbled, his hands awkwardly at his sides.

Hermione nodded, suppressing a nervous laugh. As the melody swelled, the magic seemed to guide her movements. Her deep red dress swirled around her ankles as her feet moved with a grace she hadn’t expected. Ron followed clumsily at first, but the enchantment made even his stumbles seem deliberate.

The spell of the music began to shift the dancers, their partners changing with each step and twirl. Hermione’s hand brushed others—brief, feather-light touches—but her gaze lingered on Ron as they were briefly separated. There was no longing in her glance, only a lingering comfort, a familiarity she had always taken for granted.

But then, the music turned again, and her body spun with it. Her long dress fanned out as she twirled, and when she stilled, the world around her seemed to hold its breath.

He stood before her—a figure cloaked in black and silver, his mask intricate and sharp, casting shadows across his face. For a moment, Hermione could see nothing else but him. Their hands hovered just above one another, the faintest spark of magic flickering between their fingertips.

Her breath caught as her gaze traveled up, past the edge of his mask, and locked on his eyes—stormy and gray, piercing through the shadows. There was something achingly familiar about them, but she couldn’t place it.

Neither of them spoke as the music swirled around them, a magnetic current pulling them closer. Hermione’s heartbeat quickened, though she couldn’t explain why. They moved in slow, deliberate circles, their hands hovering just apart, the warmth between them palpable. Their gazes locked, and the air around them crackled with tension.

Then, as suddenly as the spell had drawn them together, it shifted, tugging her away. Hermione stumbled back into reality, breathless and shaken. Ron was in front of her again, his face familiar and grounding, but her gaze drifted past him, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Her stranger.

He was gliding across the dance floor, partnered with a girl in a feathered gold mask. They mirrored the same moves she and Ron had just made, but the stranger’s eyes were fixed on Hermione, piercing through the crowd like a beacon.

The music swelled, and in one seamless spin, Hermione found herself turning toward him again. Her pulse quickened, racing faster than the tempo of the song. She didn’t spare Ron a glance, her focus entirely consumed by the hooded man whose presence seemed to draw her in like gravity.

Their hands hovered closer, the air between them vibrating with an electric charge. The sensation buzzed through her body, intensifying with every step. Neither of them spoke, but their eyes said everything.

His fingers brushed hers—a fleeting, almost imperceptible touch—but the ache it ignited in her was undeniable. Hermione’s breath hitched, her lips parting as she sucked in a sharp breath. He noticed, the corners of his mouth curling into the faintest smirk, and her cheeks burned in response.

Then, just as quickly, she was back where she started, in front of Ron. The spell shattered, and the sight of him felt like being plunged into ice water.

The music ended, and Ron still held her hand. Hermione smiled politely, making a subtle move to adjust her dress, reclaiming her hand in the process.

“Thank you for the dance,” she said, stepping off the floor with him.

“Yeah. It was nice,” Ron mumbled, his voice uncertain.

The next song began, a lilting waltz that carried couples back onto the floor. Hermione had barely taken a step toward the edge of the dance floor when a hand caught hers. She assumed it was Ron at first—until the spark that coursed through her skin made her freeze.

She turned, her breath catching as she looked over her shoulder.

The cloaked stranger stood behind her, his tall frame looming as his hand gently but firmly held hers. His gaze burned into her, and his voice, low and velvety, sent a shiver down her spine.

“Dance with me,” he said, the words more command than request, yet laced with an undeniable allure.

For a moment, she was entirely captivated, her world narrowing to just him. She had nearly forgotten Ron until his awkward throat-clearing pulled her back.

“Everything alright?” Ron asked, his voice cutting through the haze.

She glanced between the two men, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. She wasn’t here with Ron, but for some reason, she felt a pang of guilt over what she truly wanted to do. And what she wanted, more than anything, was to be closer to the stranger standing at her side. She hadn’t planned on dancing at all—she had promised Ron just one dance, which had led to more—but with this masked man, she hadn’t even questioned the idea.

She didn’t owe Ron anything, no matter how guilty that made her feel. She reminded herself of that. She was a grown woman, capable of changing her mind and making her own choices.

“Yes, everything is fine. Enjoy your night, Ron.”

Ron stared at her, dumbfounded, but she didn’t linger on his expression as she turned toward the man beside her. Her fingers curled around his hand, gripping it tighter in a silent agreement to the dance, even though he hadn’t asked her directly.

Without a word, the stranger led her to the dance floor, effortlessly spinning her into his arms. She gasped as she tumbled back into his chest.

His fingers brushed the strap of her dress, adjusting it as it slipped off her shoulder, then slowly traced the curve of her back to rest on her waist. A flutter of warmth spread through her at his touch. She couldn’t decide if it was the champagne or the intensity of the stranger’s embrace, but she felt dizzy with something far more intoxicating.

“Who are you?” she asked softly as they began to sway, her voice barely audible over the music.

“Whoever you want me to be, Granger.”

Her mouth opened to respond, but her words caught in her throat as he dipped her low. Their gazes locked and held, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to disappear.

“How do you know who I am?”

“Do you really think a little mask could hide you from me?” he murmured, his tone low and knowing. “I’d recognize you blind.”

Hermione wasn’t sure whether it was the warm glow of the enchanted lanterns or the heat building between them, but she suddenly felt flushed all over.

He pulled her up slowly, the soft melody of the song swirling around them. They moved together, their bodies pressed close in a way Hermione had never allowed a stranger to be before. Was she losing her mind? Had someone slipped Amortentia into her champagne?

His hand found the nape of her neck, fingers trailing through her braided hair. “Let me see all of you,” he murmured, his wrist flicking with a swift, practiced motion that loosened her hair. It cascaded free, tumbling over her shoulders as he spun her out. Her dress and hair swirled around her like a delicate whirlwind, fanning across the dance floor. For a brief moment, it felt as though they were the only two people there, the world narrowing to just this connection.

When he pulled her back into his arms, his breath brushed her ear, and he whispered, “Beautiful.”

Her knees went weak, and she could hardly catch her breath.

But then, the music shifted into something faster, more energetic, and Hermione broke away from him, as if breaking a spell.

She needed space, needed distance to clear her head.

What was she doing? She didn’t even know this man.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, her voice shaky, and she slipped away from him, hurrying off the dance floor.

As she made her way to the bar, she cursed herself under her breath. She was acting like someone else, someone she didn’t recognize. Now, she wasn’t just disappointed that Ginny and Harry hadn’t come—she was angry. Without them, there was no one to anchor her, no one to remind her of who she was and keep her steady.

When she reached the bar, she was relieved to find there was no line. She ordered a drink, watching closely as the bartender poured from a bottle of champagne. Thankfully nothing else was added.

She needed to make sense of what had just happened, but nothing added up. Hermione was not the type to be hypnotized. Yet, she could still feel the warmth of his touch, the intensity of his presence, and the strange, magnetic pull between them.

She took a long sip of her drink, hoping it would ground her, but instead, it only left her more disoriented. Setting the glass aside, she breathed in the cool night air, her chest rising with the effort as she tried to steady herself.

Then, an announcement came over the speakers, reminding everyone that there were only a few minutes left before midnight. The thought of the impending celebration made her stomach tighten. She had to leave. She needed to get away from this stranger who seemed to be consuming her thoughts.

She didn’t act like this. This isn't normal.

Avoiding any curious glances, Hermione made her way through the crowd. She should probably say goodbye to Padma and the others, but there was no time for that. She couldn’t risk getting caught up in whatever this was. She couldn’t let him pull her back in.

But just as she thought she might escape, her heart skipped a beat. She looked up and saw him across the lawn, heading straight toward her. Her pulse quickened, her body aching to move toward him, but she forced herself to resist.

She wasn’t going to head toward him. No matter how much her feet seemed to want to betray her, she wouldn’t let herself be swept away again. She needed to leave—but she couldn’t just walk past him. But then she looked around and saw a path through the garden, softly lit by the glow of a dozen floating lanterns.

Hermione remembered a path through the hedge maze that would lead her out unnoticed, a quiet escape from the crowd and away from the man who seemed to haunt her thoughts.

She turned toward the garden, ready to slip through the hedges and vanish from the party, but as she did, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. He had seen her. He’d noticed her turn into the garden.

Would he follow? Part of her hoped not. Or did she?

Her heart picked up pace as she quickened her steps, moving past the flower bushes and the large fountain that marked the garden’s entrance. It was a beautiful place—she’d been here before, once with a few other ladies for an afternoon tea—but it felt entirely different under the cloak of night.

She took a turn, her confidence wavering as she found herself deeper in the maze of tall hedges. She thought she knew where the exit was, but the familiar garden was now a labyrinth, and she quickly realized she was lost.

The sound of a bush rustling behind her made her stop. She turned over her shoulder, and her breath caught in her throat.

There he was.

He’d followed her into the maze.

She should feel fear, shouldn’t she? After all, a stranger was trailing her, and she was completely alone out here. The distant sounds of the party and music were fading as she ventured deeper into the garden. She could scream, call for help, but instead of panic, she felt… something else.

Adrenaline surged through her. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies, and her heart beat hard and fast in her chest, a wild rhythm she didn’t quite understand. She found herself smiling, not even knowing why.

He was still cloaked in dark clothes, his hood up, but his pace quickened as he closed the distance between them.

Hermione didn’t stop. She made a sharp left, uncertain of where she was going but driven by the need to keep moving. She wouldn’t let him catch her.

But even as she thought that, a strange excitement filled her.

What would he do if he caught her?

Another sound behind her made it clear he was gaining on her. Her heart raced as she made several more sharp turns, weaving through the maze. The enchanted lanterns flickered softly, casting a gentle glow that illuminated her path just enough to keep her from tripping while keeping the air warm enough to prevent a chill from setting in.

Suddenly, a loud clicking sound echoed in the distance. Hermione glanced upward and saw the massive clock that had once hovered above the dance floor now rising into the sky. Its hands clicked ominously closer to midnight, each tick echoing in her chest, syncing with the pounding of her heart and the sound of his footsteps closing in. Her breathing quickened, each inhale shallow as if she might burst from the tension.

The hedges parted, and she bolted into the clearing at the heart of the maze. There, a larger fountain stood, spraying water in the center, adding a cacophony of sound to the night air.

She didn’t realize she’d slowed down, caught by the beauty of the statue at the fountain’s heart, until her heel sank into the soft ground, throwing her off balance. Before she could regain her footing, strong arms gripped her around the waist, and she stumbled, crashing into the stranger.

They both tumbled to the ground. Her breath caught—not because he had finally caught her, or because she was now sprawled on top of him, but because, as his hood fell back, she recognized him.

Draco Malfoy.

Her mouth went dry.

"You!" she gasped, pressing her hands into his chest as she scrambled to sit up, still straddling him. She hadn’t even realized she was still on top of him until the words left her mouth.

"Say it," He teased.

In one swift motion, Hermione tore the mask from his face. Her breath caught as recognition washed over her like ice water. It had been years, but there was no mistaking him now—the moonlit blonde hair, pale skin, and piercingly familiar eyes that once haunted her thoughts. How had she not seen it before? The hood and mask had deceived her entirely. Maybe she was convinced their paths would never cross again—especially not here.

He was still unmistakably Draco, but time had changed him. He was taller, more refined, and—much to her irritation—far more handsome than she remembered. He carried himself with an effortless confidence that made her stomach churn.

Hermione shoved down the unwelcome memory of how, in their final year at school, she’d caught herself stealing glances at him. She’d buried those foolish, forbidden feelings deep, knowing they were never meant to see the light of day. Even now, after everyone had moved on, building lives beyond the petty rivalries of their youth, she couldn’t deny that he’d crossed her mind more often than she cared to admit—though she convinced herself he didn’t deserve it.

Draco hated her. He always had. Hadn’t he? This had to be some cruel game, some twisted joke at her expense.

But why, then, had his gaze been fixed on her all night?

A bitter knot twisted in her chest. She felt like a fool. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be real. He was toying with her—he had to be.

"Malfoy," she spat, her voice laced with disdain. "What—?"

He groaned, “Come on, Granger.”

She ignored him, her frustration boiling over. “What do you want?”

Before she could blink, Draco moved with surprising speed, flipping her onto her back in the grass. He loomed above her, his hands flat on the ground beside her head, caging her in. Her breath came faster now, louder than it had been when she was running from him. His long fingers slipped beneath the edge of her mask, lifting it away and leaving her feeling exposed—though he had always known exactly who she was.

He leaned in, his face hovering just above hers, his voice a low murmur, heavy with intent. “You. I want…you.”

The answer stunned her. Everything he had done tonight had left her reeling, but this? This confession shook her to the core. Even with the anger surging at the revelation of his identity, there was something undeniably magnetic about him—something that drew her in, no matter how much she wanted to resist. She couldn’t admit it, not in the face of his audacity. But in the quietest corner of her mind, she knew. He must feel it too. Why else would he be so relentless?

An announcement echoed through the air, the voice ringing clear, “One minute until midnight.”

“You want this too, don’t you, Granger?”

Her throat went dry, her words escaping in a breathless whisper, barely audible. “What?”

Draco’s gaze intensified. “Tell me you don’t feel it,” he said, his voice rough and low. “And I’ll walk away. We’ll forget this ever began.”

Hermione stared up at him, his face hovering so close she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin. How could she lie? He knew. He’d seen the way she’d watched him all night, the way her body reacted when he touched her. He knew—and he was calling her out. She would look more foolish trying to deny it than admitting the truth. But still, the truth stuck in her throat, refusing to form the words she knew she should say.

The distant sounds of the countdown filled the air.

"Ten..."

"Nine..."

“Or…” Draco murmurs, his voice dropping to a soft, irresistible whisper. “Show me,” he holds her gaze, his tone unwavering, “and I’ll know you do.”

There was something in his expression—an unguarded mix of longing and desperation—that struck her deeply. It mirrored the very feelings she had once recognized in herself, the same haunted look she had seen in the mirror years ago when thoughts of him refused to leave her.

With his mask removed, no longer hidden from her, she could see it clearly now. It was undeniable—Draco Malfoy wanted her. Needed her. It was etched into every line of his face, woven into the cadence of his words, and unmistakably lingering in the depths of his eyes.

"Six..."

"Five..."

"Four..."

Her heart thundered so loudly in her chest she was sure he could hear it. Her eyes fell to his lips, drawn to them, unable to look away. He was right there, so close—closer than anyone ever had been. The seconds ticked down, and for a brief, wild moment, she could barely hear the countdown over the pounding of her pulse.

And then, in the silence that followed, Draco’s voice, barely a breath, slid through the tension between them. "Go on, Granger." He leaned in just a fraction, his lips a hair's breadth from hers. "I’m yours."

“Two…”

“One…”

Hermione swallowed her pride and tilted her head, offering him the undeniable answer he’d been waiting for. But Draco pulled back just enough to make her heart falter. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, flashed with something darker—until a flicker of surprise passed through them, quickly morphing into unmistakable desire. In an instant, his lips closed the gap between them.

It was as though the world around her exploded in sync with what surged through her own veins—fireworks burst in the sky, and distant cheers echoed through the night. But she didn’t give a damn about the new year or the celebration; all that mattered was that she was kissing — “Draco,” she moaned against his mouth, breathless with the intensity of it.

He smiled against her lips, his voice a hushed murmur, "Hermione," as if it were the only response he needed to give. As if, all along, he had been waiting for her to call out to him, to bring him out of the shadows and into her reach.

His hands threaded through hers, guiding them to the soft grass above her head, where they tangled together, grounding her in the moment. With a subtle shift, he deepened the kiss, drawing her closer, as if they were two stars pulled inevitably into orbit. Time seemed to stretch, fragile and suspended, as if the universe had paused to witness this. The distant cheers of the new year faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of his lips and the electric pulse of something more—something that felt like it would last long after the clock struck midnight.p

[anxious-m3ss]

for a good cause - a dramione oneshot by @anxious-m3ss

"Hermione was familiar with the body’s natural response to stimulus. Hormones surging through her body, the brain’s pleasure and reward center lighting up, signals firing to increase blood flow to sexual organs. Understanding it, from a scientific standpoint, did not mean she was immune to the overwhelming effects of sexual arousal."

When Healer Hermione Granger’s well-intentioned charity auction turns into a public spectacle, she finds herself at the mercy of an unexpected bidder.

Healer Granger, Possessive Draco Malfoy, dirty talk, praise kink, dom/sub undertones, fluff & smut.

CLICK TO READ IT ON AO3

[kathlikesstuff]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: I wanted to write a sweet simple one shot, Literally sweet, it's about candy, Good Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, mental health, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, draco being nice, hermione being a mess Summary:

Hermione is fighting to make sense of her world after the war. She's gone to Hogwarts for her 7th Year without Ron and Harry. She spends her time isolated, lost (sometimes mentally, sometimes physically), and trying to find her footing in the unknown. Also she can't stop chewing cherry candies and thinking about Draco Malfoy.

A sweet fluff fic :)

[volchitsa-writes]

Wedded Bliss, Insulting Gifts (If You Aim at Hermione You'd Better Not Miss) by volchitsa Rating: T Warnings/tags: No archive warnings apply, mention of past Ron/Hermione and past infidelity Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Word count: 2,516 Summary: Draco didn’t expect to be dodging curses at his own wedding, but then again, he had never expected his wife’s ex to show up with a girl on his arm. Notes: Written for Dramione Fanfiction Writers' Deal or No Deal: Book Wyrm

[missrubyknight]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy Additional Tags: Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Child Scorpius Malfoy, Married Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts Summary:

In a world bathed in eternal summer light, Draco Malfoy has everything he's ever wanted: a perfect family, a love that transcends time, and days that stretch endlessly with joy and warmth. Hermione's laughter fills the air like music, Scorpius soars above on his broom, and the golden haze of a late summer afternoon promises peace unbroken.

But beneath the beauty of their idyllic life, there lingers a sense of something just out of reach-a shadow in the sunlight, a ripple beneath the calm. As Draco clings to the moments that make his heart whole, he finds himself questioning what truly keeps this dream alive.

[aislynn-wiley1999]

Are you looking for a Hogwarts Legacy fanfiction where:

- Characters do not have plot armour?

- Angst, jealousy, and hidden feelings are all present?

- The romance is a slow burn full of fleeting glances and brushed hands?

- the MC is angry, tired, severe, and occasionally horny?

- Sebastian and Ominis are RIDDLED with flaws and deeper emotions?

- There is smut (eventually, it IS a slow burn)?

Consider reading Three Headed Serpent here on AO3!

It’s at 47k words right now and I update every 2-3 days :)

[acciopeacheswrites]

Draco Malfoy and the Banality of Weddings

📖Just a quick little one-shot for your viewing pleasure.

[tippilo]

This turned into less of a drabble and more of a oneshot. It is in the same universe as the Sectumsempra drabble last week (but it stands alone). I may clean this up, expand it a bit and post on AO3… not sure

This is inspired off of @dara-art 😘 she is hosting a DTIYS on her insta page based off this piece! Check out her post on insta for details! I’m no artist so this oneshot is the best one can expect from me 😅 (congrats on 20k, love! 🤍)

Written for dramione month! (hosted by @dhrmonth )

[writetimewrongmuse]

Sugar Quills and other Cheap Thrills

Returning to Hogwarts for his eighth year had been a bad idea.

Draco had known it would be.

He’d expected jeers of “Death Eater” at every meal. He’d expected to be cornered in every nook and cranny, every secret alcove that was only truly a secret to Filch. 

He’d expected to be punched, jumped and pummelled until he was bloodied and blue.

He’d expected to never make it to the end of his eighth year, and perhaps that was the reason he had returned to the hallowed grounds. 

To pay for his sins in blood and misery.

What he had not expected was to be brought down by a bushy haired witch that loathed him, a set of plump pink lips, and a strawberry sugar quill currently wrapped between them.

Merlin, fuck.

His first foray into her mind was inadvertent. 

His gaze had locked with hers just as she had opened her lips wide, and sucked in the delicious treat with a resounding “swoosh”, her gaze indecently bored and impassive as she peered around the empty library, before returning to her book. 

(A horridly boring and aptly named tome titled Wicked Witches & The Wonders They Wielded in The 14th Century.)

Yet that one moment was enough for him to get a glimpse.

A glimpse of him, in her mind, as she continued the sinful dance of her tongue—only not on a sugar quill.

He couldn’t have run out of the library any faster. 

He couldn’t have come any harder, later that night.

He couldn’t have pondered the fine line between hate and lust any more than he did the following many weeks.

The next time he looked into her amber hues, both warm and mercilessly teasing, was less inadvertent. 

She sat across The Three Broomsticks, a delicious foam of butter beer on the corner of her lips as she spoke to Noble Saviours One and Two, and Three–Longbottom was sitting far too close beside her, and Draco did not like it one bit. The grin that played on her decadent lips said she very much did.

He wondered which of the three he’d find in her mind on this occasion.

Gods he really was looking to hurt himself, because if it was the  ginger-fxck, he would have to Obliviate himself.

It was not Weasel. 

If he had found her lips to be sinful earlier, her tongue was utterly depraved. 

She licked up Draco’s (not him, the other Draco—the him he was now jealous of) thigh as her fingers teased into the placket of his trousers. 

Trousers, Draco was quick to notice, he was wearing right this very moment. 

With a gentle tug she pulled his trousers back as Draco’s fingers moved to wrap into her hair, her glorious curls perfect for all the ways he wished to grip it, tug it, yank—OH FUCK NO!

That was not an accurate representation of him and his assets—and he had every intention of filling that void for this ill-informed swot.

The only problem was, what could he possibly say?

“Say Granger. I know I’ve said horridly hideous things to you over the last eight years. But here’s the thing, I also breached the sacred temple that is your head, and whilst I was very much invading your privacy, I came across so many erotic visuals about you and I, that I have not thought of anything else for months. Wanna shag for real now?”

Draco knew he was attractive, and much sought after—but the only attention the witch was likely to give him in response was a swift kick to his heir-maker.

Which was not all too bad? 

“Might even feel nice.” He said to his textbook. “If it’s her doing it.”

No, no, no. He needed a plan—a legitimate excuse to broach any conversation that could revolve around the words lips, you, me and / or shag.

“Granger, what chapstick do you use?”

“Excuse me?”

It was perfect. Quidditch Finals were right around the corner, and nobody but the swot cared that also meant Final exams were also around the corner. Well, her and him—but he was also only in the library to try and woo this witch.

Woo her for what exactly?

Well he didn’t have all the answers.

At this point it would be a true miracle if his every answer for his N.E.W.T.s was not ‘Sugar Quill’ or ‘Hermione Fucking Granger’ or ‘That’s not what I look like Granger.’

“Malfoy.” Granger huffed. “What do you want?”

“You.”

Ah fuck.

“About fucking time.” Hermione huffed. “And what chapstick do I use?”

“That’s the best you could come up with after six months?”

“Hey!” Draco groaned as she pulled him into the stacks. “It’s a valid question.”

“It’s an asinine question.”

Her lips were on his before he could ask her how she knew he had pondered his opening line for six months—and Merlin it all to Hell, she tasted like a Strawberry Sugar Quill.

The kind he loved.

No! The kind he had liked. Because nothing quite compared to the taste of the treat on her tongue.

Her tongue roved down his neck as his hands wound into her hair, her curls soft and heavy. Simply perfect to wrap his hands around and pull her lips back up to his.

“Prefect’s bathroom? Or right here?” He murmured between kisses.

“Fuck the bathroom.” She said, her fingers already pulling him out as she got down on her knees in front of him. “Mhmmm.” She said looking up at him, her eyes brightening with mirth as her thumb brushed him with a gentle but firm stroke.

“I see now why you took offence with my imaginings.”

“You’re A Legilimens.”

“Takes one to know one.” She said as her lips wrapped around him with a delirious moan.

“Gods, fuck, what have I gotten myself into?” Draco groaned as his eyes fixated on the way her lips curved around him.

She hummed, before releasing him with an obscene pop.

“Scared, Malfoy.” Hermione grinned up at him as her fingers continued to stroke him. “You’ve only a glimpse of what I have in mind.”

“If I have to die, Gods, please let it be at the mercy of your lips.” Draco groaned, as she slowly sucked the utter life out of him.

fin.

Written for Day. 6 of DHRMonth – "Legilimens."

[noxmalfoy]