#if you have access to clean tap water........ drink it

[judeharoldvich]

non usamericans going to university DO NOT listen to american advice about what to bring to uni they're telling people to buy 65 dollar water filter pitchers and compostable disposable plates instead of dishware we are not the target audience

[reasonsforhope]

ETA: Article here (can't believe I forgot this rip)

A new study finds you can reduce the amount of microplastics you drink simply by boiling your water.

Scientists are just beginning to understand the health risks associated with microplastic exposure.

Nano- and microplastics are bits of plastic as tiny as one-thousandth of a millimeter in diameter.

Boiling and filtering your tap water may dramatically lower the amount of microplastics you drink, according to new research.

Recent studies have found that nano- and microplastics (NMPs), which are bits of plastic as tiny as one-thousandth of a millimeter in diameter, have been found in a host of products and even in tap water.

A new study, published February 28 in Environmental Science & Technology Letters, found that boiling mineral-rich water for just five minutes can reduce the amount of NMP you’re exposed to by up to 90%.

Scientists are just beginning to understand the health risks associated with microplastic exposureTrusted Source, but growing evidenceTrusted Source suggests the plastics can accumulate in the body and trigger oxidative stress, inflammation, insulin resistance, and liver issues.

Certain advanced water filtration systems can capture and help remove some NMPs from tap water. But researchers wanted to figure out other options to remove microplastics, especially since in poorer countries cheaper, more accessible solutions for clean water are needed.

Boiling water may be a safe, simple solution that can effectively decontaminate household tap water, the new findings suggest.

“Boiling water before drinking is a great example of an ancient cultural practice that can help reduce an environmental exposure,” Dr. Luz Claudio, PhD, a professor of environmental medicine and public health at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, told Healthline.

Claudio was not involved in the study.

How boiling water can help remove microplastics

The researchers found simply boiling water is the first step to removing NMPs from tap water.

The researchers collected multiple samples of tap water from Guangzhou, China and contaminated the samples with varying levels of NMPs.

Each sample was boiled for five minutes then left to cool for 10 minutes.

Boiling hard water that’s rich with minerals — such as calcium or magnesium — creates a chalk-like residue known as limescale, or calcium carbonate (CaCO3), which can trap the plastics.

That solid, chalky residue then had to be separated and removed from the water with a standard coffee filter or stainless steel filter, thereby removing NMPs.

The team found that the impact was greatest in harder water: In samples that had 300 milligrams of CaCO3, for example, nearly 90% of NMPs were removed.

In softer water samples with less than 60 mg of CaCO3, roughly 25% of NMPs were removed.

“What’s important to note here is that the effectiveness of trapping these micro/nano plastics in these mineral solids is tied to how hard the water is – the harder the water, the more solids are formed, the more microplastics are trapped,” Dr. Anja Brandon, PhD, the associate director of U.S. plastics policy at Ocean Conservancy and an environmental engineer, told Healthline.

Brandon was not involved in the study...

How to limit your exposure to microplastics 

Anyone who wishes to boil their water should do so in a glass or stainless steel pot.

After boiling the water for about five minutes, let it cool, and do not stir it, Claudio says.

The microplastics need to bind to the calcium and fall to the bottom of the pot so they can filtered or scooped out."

-via Healthline, February 28, 2024

[carnivorous-canine98]

Dauntless

Word count: 6437

Trigger warning: Contains both Fearplay and tooth rotting fluff, read at your own risk.

Okay soooo, this was based on a dream that I had and actually remembered for once. I decided to write this self-indulgent self-insert fic between creator and creation. Enjoy <3

And this is my longest story by far…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are at my feet

We’re by the fire

You’re a gentle, purring beast

And I’m alive

Hunter - Paris Paloma

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My phone’s alarm blared, groaning as I reached over to silence it. I checked the time, tossing the device back onto the shitty bed. A loud “Fuck!’ flew past my lips as my joints snapped and cracked. Having back problems sucked enough, and this damn cot was not helping anything.

“Hey, pipe down… some of us are trying to sleep!” someone snapped to my left.

“Sorry, sorry,” I whispered, grabbing my phone, alongside a handful of other items.

I quickly tossed everything into my backpack, trying to leave as quietly as possible. Once the door closed, I stretched before heading down to the woman’s showers. I pulled out my phone, sighing loudly, as there was still no service here. “The only thing this damn thing is good for any more is a glorified alarm clock. At least I still have access to my music,” I grumbled.

Once I reached the showers, I took out what I needed and placed the rest back. I got undressed and put on my shower shoes. Reaching in, I turned the water on, wanting to let it warm up for a bit before getting in. I shuddered, realizing I was the only one in here.

It was quiet… too quiet.

I fucking hate the quiet.

I grabbed my phone, tapping on a random song. The unease melted away once the music hit my ears. Sighing gratefully, I stepped into the shower.

I raised my head to let the warm water run down my face. My eyes cracked open some, homesickness hitting me hard. I left everyone I loved behind for a shot in the dark. While the pay was decent for what it was, it just wasn’t worth being so damn lonely. I slumped against the shower wall, letting out a choked sob. Crying was something I very rarely did, but when enough emotions built up inside… the dam would burst. I broke down in silence, not wanting to be heard. I missed my parents, family, and my partner. Fuck, I even missed my cat.

“I could really go for a stiff drink right now,” I mumbled, wiping my eyes.

Standing back up, I finished quickly and turned the water off. I dried myself the best I could. Damn… I could also go for a good soak in a tub. Reaching into my backpack, I grabbed the day’s clothes and got dressed, making sure to put my headphones on.

Great way of tuning out the world around me for a while.

Once my boots were laced up tight, I went down to the mess hall. It was fairly busy with how early it was in the morning. Through tired eyes, I watched people grab food, eat, chat, and whatnot. I got in line, my face brightening up at what was being served.

Finally, something I’ll actually enjoy eating!

The good ol’ standard American breakfast was being served today. My mouth watered heavily as I got my plate, struggling not to bounce as I inched closer.

Most of the time, I’d only find one or two things that I could eat. Some days, I just wouldn’t eat at all. It wasn’t so much the taste as it was the texture. Sensory issues really did suck with a fixed menu.

I must've looked really stupid getting my food as the biggest, cheesiest grin was plastered on my damn face. My bouncing started to speed up when a few sausage links were given to me. Still grinning like a dumbass, I gave a happy “Thank you,” racing off to eat.

I didn’t waste any time, scarfing down every last bite. You’d think the apocalypse was coming, with how fast I stuffed everything into my face. It was a good thing I had a knack for finding the most secluded places to sit, as I would’ve likely licked the plate clean if I could.

Once I was done eating, I grabbed my phone to check the time. It seems I had about an hour before my shift started, and what better way to kill time than by reading? Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a red book with silver foil accents. The title, “Wonderland,” could be seen as clear as day. Kicking my feet back and forth, I skimmed the pages, music loudly playing in my ears.

“Oooh, a dungeon inside of a giant worm? That would be so cool to try and run,” I hummed, eyes lighting up.

I continued to read, occasionally singing softly. I was so engrossed in what I was doing that it hadn't occurred to me to keep track of the time. Once I actually remembered to check my phone, I went pale. “Shit, shit, shit,” I hissed, packing up in a hurry. I raced down the hall as fast as my body would let me. Darting into the janitorial office, I huffed and puffed as I pulled my headphones onto my neck, and then clocked in.

“Cutting it awfully close there, Lex,” came a voice from behind.

“S-Sorry sir... lost track of time,” I murmured sheepishly.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed nonchalantly. “Well… either way, it’s your turn to clean the high wing this month.”

“The high wing? That’s where all the rich people work, right?”

“Yep…”

“Could I take my bag with me? I’ll leave it in the cart while I work…”

“Alright, just don’t let it be a distraction.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, giving a small smile.

With no hesitation, I grabbed the biggest cart I could find, stuffing my backpack on the bottom. “Alright, I’m off,” I say with a big smile. “I’ll do my best.” Wasting no time, I took off out of the office, pausing briefly as I thought I heard the man say something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours had passed by now, leaving me to my duties. I had music blasting in my ears as usual, happily humming along. Occasionally, the urge to be goofy would come along and I’d dance or just spin in place. That damn giddy grin never left my face as I worked.

I felt good, better than good… strangely amazing.

Giving in to the temptation, I let myself dance around the room, singing loudly. No one was here besides me… who’d care if I had a bit of fun? Yes, I still cleaned as I bounced around the room. The craziness did die down some as I returned to work. I was so caught up in wiping down the big meeting table that I failed to notice the presence behind me. A loud yelp rushed out as a heavy hand touched my shoulder. Spinning around, I saw two well dressed men staring down at me. I quickly pulled my headphones down, pausing my music so I could hear.

“S-Sorry, thought this room wasn’t in use. I’ll leave,” I spluttered.

I took a few steps back, looking a bit sheepish. God, did I hate people being incredibly close to me. As I was about to leave with the cart, one of the men spoke.

“Actually, Ms. W… We’re looking for you.”

“Is something wrong? Did I do something?” I reflexively asked.

“No, nothing’s wrong; we have a job that we need you to do. It won’t take too long.”

I gave a meek nod, heading to grab the cart. “You won’t be needing that, Ms. W. Someone will be here shortly to finish what you started.”

“Can I at least get my bag from it?” I asked meekly.

The shorter of the two gave a grunt and a nod. “Hurry up, we don’t have all day,” he barked.

Something about this just felt off to me. I don’t know why, it just did. I turned off my headphones, stuffing them in my bag as I walked over to them. They motioned for me to follow behind. I swallowed hard, holding my bag close to my chest for some sense of comfort.

I was led around the high wing for a bit, soon coming to an elevator. After entering, I slinked to the back as much as the space allowed me to. A soft, meek whine came out, cradling my bag close to my chest.

Would someone say something, please? The silence is killing me…

The urge to say something was getting to the point I was just about to blurt anything. Until the taller man turned to face me, opening his mouth to speak. “Ms. W. I must ask. Are you aware of what we do here?” He asked inquisitively.

“Not particularly, no… I was offered the job by someone and went for it. Didn’t exactly go over the details.”

“Typical of the youth that gets offered anything these days,” the short man muttered.

“Masterson… please,” the other murmured. “Anyway, it may shock you to learn this is a… zoo of sorts.”

“A zoo! On this scale!” I blurt out. “This is cruise ship levels of staff, how is it possible for a place like this to even function?”

The same man chuckled at my outburst. “Well, you see,” he began. “We have quite a few wealthy benefactors that graciously donate considerably to maintain this fine establishment.”

“That’s so cool,” I breathed, eyes lightening up.

The man smiled, turning back to his partner. I started to fiddle with my bag a bit, pausing as I heard “Masterson” speak up. “Really, Smith? You do this fucking song and dance every time we put on the show,” he hissed so softly I almost missed it.

Out of the corner of my eye, Smith’s lips formed into a cruel smile. “Lighten up some; not like she’s going to remember this conversation once everything’s done…”

The elevator once again fell into silence, the two men facing away from me.

That gnawing feeling in my stomach started to grow worse by the second. What did they mean, I’m not going to remember anything? I cowered in the corner of the small space, holding my bag tightly to my chest. Another soft whimper escaped from me, the dread of what was to come eating me alive on the inside.

The soft ding of the elevator was enough to make me jump, considering how frazzled my nerves were.

“Calm down, Ms. W.” Masterson barked, his irritation clear as day. “It’s just the damn elevator…”

“S-Sorry,” I murmured, sinking back.

“We’re here, Ms. W. Please follow us,” Smith responded, back to his chipper tone from before.

The words “I don’t wanna do this,” were right on my tongue, screaming for me to shout it out. My body was begging for me to scream out, cry, anything at all, but I couldn’t. It was like I was under a trance, legs moving under someone else’s will and not my own. My eyes filled with terror as these men led me to my unknown fate.

We walked along bare, lifeless hallways for some time, soon stopping in front of a steel door. Masterson pulled a key card from his suit pocket, swiping it. Another buzzer went off, a green light flickering on above the door. I heard a soft click, Smith reached over and opening it.

“Through this door,” he smiled, the look in his eyes sending shivers down my spine. There was a strange, malicious hunger to them, like he was shoving me into the lion's den just to watch them feast. “This way please, Ms. W.” He repeated.

“W-What is it you're having me do?” I asked, desperately trying to buy some time.

“You’ll be briefed once you pass the door,” Smith replied, the smile never leaving his lips.

“I-I don’t know if I want to go through with this,” I said meekly, taking a step back.

“As if you have a choice,” Masterson’s venom coated hiss echoed behind me.

A sudden sharp pain burst from the middle of my back as I was forced past the steel frame. I landed on my side with a loud thud, a dull throb in my upper shoulder. Pushing aside the pain, I quickly scrambled to my feet, desperately trying to reach the door.

“Word of advice… lighten your fucking load,” the stout man sneered, slamming the door behind him.

I returned to the entrance, banging on the metal as loud as I could… it was utterly useless.

I was trapped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Broken sobs escaped me as I fell to my knees. I curled into a tight ball, giving in to my despair and anguish. Time moved at a crawl as my cries echoed in the chamber around me. I slowly collected myself, groaning as I got to my feet.

“Now is not the time to sit and feel fucking sorry for yourself,” I hissed quietly.

Slowly, my legs moved along to the ground in an effort to feel around, nearly tripping over my bag. A shaky sigh blew out as I bent down to pick it up. It might have been a wise idea to leave it behind, but I’m stubborn like that. My bag and I were seeing this through… whatever this may be. I held the damn thing close, treating it as if it were my child, forcing myself to walk forward. Moving a hand, I placed it along the smooth, cool walls in hopes of letting it guide me.

One step onward.

Two steps.

Three.

My breathing grew heavy as I sped up, just wanting to see anything at this point. Faster, ever so faster until I was at a full sprint. I tightly squeezed my eyes closed as I ran forward, lungs full on burning now.

I needed to breathe… just for a second.

I leaned against the wall, desperately slowing my intake of air to a normal pace. Keeping this up, I lifted my head, eyes opening slightly. Both flew open as relief started to bud inside my chest.

Light… it was faint, but it was there.

A few loose tears fell from my cheeks as I forced my sore legs to move again. “Come on, nearly fucking there,” I wheezed. I didn’t care at all at this point… I ran like my life depended on it.

The lights burned my eyes once I reached what I thought was my freedom, shielding my face. Squinting, I tried to see where I was exactly. It looked like a barren meadow, large trees planted sparsely and uprooted. Big boulders in much of the same way. The once pristine ground held deep gashes easily over ten feet deep or so.

Once my eyes adjusted to how freaking bright it was, what I saw made my blood run cold. Those same steel panels lined the whole area. I couldn’t tell how big it was here… just that I knew I couldn’t run the entirety in a day alone. Letting my eyes lead, I had to strain my neck just to see the next bit. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but if you stand just right and you could see glass lining the very top. Hell, I swore I saw figures moving around up there.

Outright dread started to boil in my gut when I perceived exactly where I was…

I wasn’t outside… It was a large underground stadium.

“Well… seems the little mouse finally decided to come out to play with me,” A smooth voice rumbled, the ground vibrating with each word.

I whirled around, but no one greeted my eyes.

“Look above you… little mouse.”

I jerked my head up, the sight before me sent me reeling back. A massive figure loomed over me, ravenous crimson eyes staring directly at me. My eyes darted around as I was coming to terms with what was before me. By the voice alone, I could tell this thing was definitely female…

She spoke again, voice dripping with hunger. “Ooo, a little mouse with some meat on her bones… I’m going to savor every part of you.”

That set things into motion.

Scrambling to my feet, I bolted. My already sore body ached as I ran, a shrill scream exiting me as a massive clawed hand trying to catch its prize. I jumped, missing those gigantic fingers by a few inches. “Come on, little mouse,” she purred. “Make this fun for me. Make it last… I don’t get one as plump as you very often.”

That rumble of hers was deafening, so fucking deafening. I clamped my hands over my ears as I ran. Everything was throwing my senses into overload… At this point I may as well experience a meltdown and get it over with. However, sheer adrenaline was the only thing keeping me going.

The thing slammed a hand beside me, fingers digging deep in the dirt. The sudden action sent me tumbling onto my side. My terrified eyes once again looked up at her massive face. From where I stood, she looked pretty human to me… despite the massive size, cat-like eyes, and double canines leering at me.

”Aww, it seems the little mouse needs a bit of a breather,” She hissed, so close I could see the saliva dripping from her fangs. “Such a shame… I was hoping to play with you for just a bit longer.”

I whimpered, trying to slide back, but was stopped by her hand blocking the way. “Who said you could leave,” she sneered. “We’re just getting started here.” Like lightning itself, she lunged forward, snapping in my direction only missing by mere feet.

I didn’t hesitate again… I ran.

“That’s it, little mouse. Run!” She thundered. “Makes it all the more appetizing when I finally do catch you!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hide… I need to hide. Catch my breath. Something, anything to throw this… this thing off of my tail.

The words were better left unspoken at this point, as I once again stopped to catch my breath. Someone in better shape would be able to keep this up for a while.

Me? Fuck no… I’m barely holding it together.

At this point, I’m just a sitting duck waiting for the predator to pounce.

“Little mouse,” her damned words rumbled everywhere. “You’re making this way too easy. Are you willingly offering yourself to me?”

Her remarks were starting to get to me…

I couldn’t take much more of this…

Shut up, Shut up…

“JUST SHUT UP!” I screamed raspily.

The giantess paused, surprise slowly melting into amusement. “Seems we don’t have a little mouse here, but we have a little stoat instead,” she purred, leisurely circling around me. We locked eyes, her predatory grin growing wider. “How about we make a deal?” She hummed, eyes narrowing.

“W-What kind of deal?” I wheezed.

“Simple really. Avoid me for as long as you can and you’ll be free to go.” She got close once again, a predacious edge to her voice as she whispered. “I’ll even give you a head start…”

”H-How…”

“Mmm?” She rumbled, still locked on me.

“H-How long do I get?”

“Ten minutes, an extra five for you to run ahead. Now, if I were you… I’d get going, little stoat.”

“I… at least need a quick breather!” I protested.

“Use your five minutes however you want, but once they’re up…” she didn’t need to finish that sentence, the licking of her lips loud and clear.

I couldn’t exactly run, having used most of my energy earlier. So I settled on short bursts every few seconds. Periodically, I’d glance back at her, that smug grin never leaving her face. Turning back to the task at hand, I had to try to find something to help this end in my favor.

Those five minutes were the longest in my life as I tried to scout out a place to hunker down. “Time’s up,” the creature sneered. “Now… time for the chase.” The ground shook with each step she took, throwing me off balance. “Come on little stoat, make this a challenge for me.”

I don’t know if it was bravery or just sheer stupidity, but I flipped her off as I ran. She must have gotten a kick out of that, her laughter thundering around me as a result. No matter… I needed to avoid this monster for as long as possible.

I ran and ran, gaining momentum. I’m not sure how long I had been running, but my time had to be almost over. An exhausted smile pulled at my lips. Free… I would make it, beat the bitch at her own game.

I spoke too fucking soon…

A rock.

A simple rock caused me to lose my footing and fall face first into the dirt.

That smug voice rang above me, inching ever so closer. “Mmm, guess you're still a little mouse after all,” she purred. “And darn… you were so close to actually winning this.” I tried to get to my feet, screaming as I was hoisted into the air. Fear's grip returned as she dangled me by my legs.

My breathing quickened as panic began to rise.

Being this high up, upside down of all things, was absolutely terrifying.

My vision grew dizzy as I thrashed around, screaming, pleading, for her to put me down.

“Put you down? I know the perfect place for you,” she hummed.

My screams grew louder as she lifted me overhead, letting go of my legs.

The fall was excruciating, everything slowing still and speeding up all at once. My cries and pleas were sniffed out by the snapping of her teeth.

You think landing in a giant mouth would be better than free falling?

Let me enlighten you… it was not. It’s fucking terrifying.

Every noise I made inside, intensified tenfold. Something as simple as moving my wrist against the tongue's surface was enough to send my senses to their limit.. Hell, even my own screams made my eardrums hurt.

I was going to have one hell of a migraine when this was over…

Everything started to move all at once, earning a cry of alarm. I shrieked, roughly pinned to the roof of her mouth being savored like some favored sweet. I hated the feeling of her tongue on my bare skin. Too many textures to try and comprehend all at once. Rough, soft, wet… cold?

How is it so cold inside of her mouth?

I didn’t have any time to ponder the thought, everything abruptly shifting backwards. Scrambling as I tried in vain to delay what was about to happen. I screamed as her throat opened up, eagerly claiming its prize. I was pulled down quickly, squeezed on all sides, slowly being pushed towards my tomb.

It was becoming too much for me, the noise, lack of light, and being squeezed everywhere. I kicked and thrashed trying to get the esophageal walls to just stop, fucking, touching me!

I gasped, the pressure on my body increasing gradually then dropping off completely. Shaking violently, I curled into a fetal position. The slow steady thump of her heart was making my head ring even more. I sobbed, begging for it to be all over.

“Too… too much.” I whimpered, covering my ears.

“I’m sorry… sit tight okay?”

I heard those words as clear as day, but nothing reverberated within the fleshy chamber that held me captive. My thoughts didn't last long, I cried out as everything shifted around me vigorously.

It… it was just becoming too much to bear, vision blurring — what little there was to begin with.

My breathing was short and shallow, adding to the already growing headache.

Don’t know how it happened, but I lost consciousness…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dusk sighed, biting her lip when she felt the movements in her middle stop. It was hard to fight the urge to place a comforting hand over her stomach, desperately wanting to let the girl know she was safe.

“God… she put up a decent struggle going down. Hope the kid’s alright,” she thought silently.

The giantess's pointed ear twitched as she glanced up, picking up on the faint cheers and whoops from the denizens' concealed outpost. She snarled, fingers digging into the ground. Every fucking month they sent some poor soul into her cage just to be chased around and eaten for show.

Dusk desperately wanted to show these fucks what true fear felt like.

Grabbing a good sized rock, she chucked it as hard as she could. A smirk formed on her lips as shouts of alarm and surprise came once it made contact with the glass near the top. A faint beeping near her neck made her roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. You freaky assholes had your fun… now piss off and leave me alone.”

She grumbled a few choice words under her breath, carefully getting to her feet. Dusk was about to head back to her sleeping quarters, when something caught her eye. Near the entrance where the human came from was a black speck, somewhat strange as everything was shades of green and brown. Getting closer to it, the giantess could easily tell it was a backpack with her sharp sight.

“The kid must have brought it in with her,” she chuckled. “Odd, but I’d imagine she’ll want it back.”

The massive woman delicately picked it up with her claws, taking great care not to rip it. Dusk was left surprised by the weight of the tiny item, curious as to what was inside. Well, that would have to wait, as it would be hell to even try to open the tiny thing.

Dusk placed the bag in her palm, heading over to her “private” area, closing the massive door with a loud slam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My body felt sore all over; it hurt to even move. A shaky sigh rushed through me, the weight of my body sinking into softness around me.

Soft?

Where was I even at?

My eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft crimson glow of the interior. My blood ran cold when the events from before came flooding back to me. A shrill shriek escaped from my lungs, my sore body flailing about madly. Everything tightened around me, my arms pinned to my sides. I let out a meek whimper, tears falling from my eyes.

I’m going to die, truly die inside of this fleshy tomb.

“Calm down… good grief, I don’t need you kicking up a storm in there,” her voice vibrated all around me.

“L-Loud,” I whined quietly.

“Huh? Speak up, I can barely hear you.”

“IT’S TOO FUCKING LOUD IN HERE!” I screamed. “My clothes are soaked, sticking to every part of my body! Even there! I’m being touched anywhere and everywhere! And it stinks! I hate it! I want out! I WANT OUT!”

“Oh… alright.” She spoke much softer now, barely a whisper. “Just give me a sec to get you out.”

Everything loosened up, my body sinking back into the folds of the stomach lining. How was I even still alive like this? I was pretty sure I passed out here earlier… didn’t I?

I cried out, squirming weakly as everything tightened once again. “Need… you to work… with me. Try to keep still, okay?” Everything briefly let up as she spoke, only to return with a vengeance. A timid whimper was all I could muster, trying to remain still for the giantess to do her thing.

I closed my eyes as tight as I could as I was pushed up her throat and into her cavernous maw. She pushed my small frame to the roof of her mouth, sucking on me for a while. I gave her palate a swift kick, reminding her to let me out.

A low chuckle came in response, light flowing in as her jaws parted. A shiver went down my spine seeing two of her fingers coming to grab me. “W-Wait,” I yelped, eyes wide. A sigh rushed out, followed by a low inquisitive rumble of my captor. “N-Not like how you picked me up before… please,” I whimpered.

“I’m… I’m terrified of heights.”

I felt everything shift forward, squeaking as the massive muscle under me shifted. More light illuminated my surroundings, causing me to cover my eyes from how bright it was. Another surprised cry escaped my lungs as I slid off her tongue and into an open palm. I scrambled to the middle as much as possible, not wanting to guess how high I was.

“I was hoping to try and get as much saliva off as I could… make the clean up a bit easier on you,” she chuckled quietly, wiping the side of her mouth.

I gave no reply, hugging my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth.

“Hey kid, you okay?” She tried to touch me with a finger, but I swatted it away.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, my emotions taking over.

I buried my head in my arms, sobbing like a two year old. Just take it away… take this hellish day away. Why isn’t it over yet? Will it ever be? I wish I never took this fucking job. I wish I was home with my family, friends, and my beloved kitty.

My sobs grew louder and louder in a cursed crescendo.

“Hey… I’m going to put you down, okay?”

I didn’t listen, too lost in my one-woman pity party to even notice her lowering me to the ground. She must have done this before, as I was on the ground when I looked up. Sniffling, I slid back some, wanting as much distance as possible. She got low, giving me that much needed space.

“Hey… I don’t know if this is going to help much, but I believe this is yours.”

With wide eyes, I watched as she placed something a few feet in front of me. It was my bag! Yeah, it may have been stupid to be so happy to see something as insignificant as a backpack, but I was weird like that. Scooting close enough, I reached out and snagged it, hugging it close to my chest.

“T-Thank you,” I murmured.

“You like that bag quite a lot, don’t you?” she chuckled, resting her chin on her hands.

My cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “It’s not the bag, but what’s inside of it…” I say meekly. “I find comfort in items that hold my current fixation. They remind me of home. Those I care about.”

“Ah, I see.” She moved, making me slide away, fear once again gripping me.

“Easy, easy… I’m just trying to get comfortable. This pen isn’t easy on the joints.”

Again I didn’t respond, eyes remaining locked on her. I watched as she twisted and stretched her massive body trying to get comfortable in the cramped space. My eyes did wonder somewhat, moving along her muscular arms, legs, and chest. Now that I could actually look at her without having to run for dear life… she was built pretty damn well.

“Like what you see?”

Her words snapped me from my stupor, cheeks now burning from her question. “S-Sorry… I didn’t mean to stare,” I whispered. She chuckled, twitching an elvish ear. “You’re fine. I don’t really mind, in fact…” The giantess got lower to the ground, a seductive smile forming. “I encourage it.”

My face grew hot despite everything that happened, a flustered peep escaping from my lips. I hid my face in my bag, wanting to scream into the void. The woman’s sudden laughter thundered around me. Screaming, I covered my ears again.

“Loud! Too loud!”

“Oh right… sorry, kid,” she murmured sheepishly. “I forget how powerful these lungs of mine can be.”

Cautiously, I pulled my hands away from my ears as I sat up, shuddering as deep maroon pools stared back at me. Wait… did her eyes change color? I could’ve sworn they were crimson before.

“Something on your mind?”

”Your eyes… they were previously red, right?”

“Yeah, they change based on either my mood or current hunger level. Also what’s your name? Don’t think you want me calling you mouse or kid while you’re stuck here…”

“Stuck? What do you mean by ‘stuck’ here?”

“Knew this was coming eventually,” she muttered, looking away briefly. “So… after the show, it’s not uncommon for the organizers to leave a human with me. Don’t exactly know why. My best guess is they let the hype die down before letting them go. ”

“H-How long am I going to be trapped in here?” I asked, voice shaking with every word.

“At best, three days at worst… little over a week.”

“No, no… nonononono.” Panic set in at her words, I started rocking repetitively.

It was getting hard to breathe, my chest starting to feel tight. I could feel my heart pounding rapidly, adding more to the pain.

“Hey it’s okay, calm down,” the giantess spoke softly, moving her hands closer.

My eyes darted from side to side as she got approached.

“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me,” I sobbed repeatedly, fingers digging into my skull. Out of pure stress, I pulled at my hair with one hand and bit down on the other.

She was trying to tell me something, but it didn’t help, as it fell on deaf ears.

I bit down hard on my hand, the dull, metallic taste of blood hitting my tongue.

She spoke again. With some effort, I could make out her words: ”Look at me.” The woman’s voice was firm, yet gentle.

“Breathe…”

I tried, only short shaky breaths coming. Nothing was helping… I was going to be forgotten about.

“What helps you? What grounds your mind?”

“D-Darkness, b-but not pitch black,” I forced out, tears running down my cheeks.

“Okay… anything else?”

“M-Music… not t-too soft, n-not too loud.”

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?” She moved her hands slowly, cupping them over head but also giving me enough space. A low hum came from her, the perfect pitch for an aching head. My breathing began to slow to normal as the throbbing in my head and chest dissipated.

“There we go,” she smiles softly. “Better now?”

”A-A little,” I say timidly.

“A little is better than nothing…”

I glanced away, pushing up my glasses. A lot was on my mind right now, anxiety aside. But there was one thing I could get out of the way…

“Lex…”

“Hmm?” The giantess spoke, ears perking.

”You asked for my name right? It’s Alexis, but I prefer Lex.”

”Well Lex, it’s nice to meet you,” she purred. “I’m Dusk, the sexy giantess.”

I snorted at her retort, which soon turned into full-on laughter. Dusk’s eyes seemed to sparkle, her grin widened some. She readjusted, resting her cheek on her hand. “I gotta say, this is the fastest a human has ever calmed down around me. Most just end up huddled in a corner, begging to be let go or for me not to eat them again.”

“I guess that I surprise myself sometimes,” I laughed meekly. “I think somewhere deep down I can tell if someone is good or not. But then again, it doesn’t always follow through. I’ve been burned more than once before. I think my biggest flaw is that I’m too trusting, to a fault…”

”Trust is a two way street, easily earned but just as easily shattered,” Dusk responded.

“Yeah…” I murmured. “I do have a question I’d like to get off of my chest, if that's okay?”

”Sure, what is it?”

”This? This situation, what is it exactly, and does it happen often?”

Dusk sighed, running a hand through her short matted black hair. “Well… to put it bluntly, it’s a show of sorts. They toss low level employees into my pen, we have a game of cat and mouse, I eat them… rise and repeat.”

“God, that’s horrible! I would imagine this whole thing leaves them pretty shaken up after they're finally allowed to leave.”

“Uhhh, about that…” she began. “I usually wipe or alter their memories, trying to ease the burden a bit. I can do the same for you when the time comes, if you want?”

“If it involves you touching me… I’ll deal with the increase in therapy bills,” I huffed sarcastically.

Dusk snickered quietly at my retort. “Noted. I’ll keep the physical contact to a minimum.” She rolled onto her back, stretching out a fair bit. I couldn’t help but be in awe at what lay before me, still trying to grasp that it was even real.

“Hey, Lex?”

I snapped out of my haze to see her open palm placed before me. Confused, I looked up at her, tilting my head to the side. “Would you like to climb on? Don’t think sleeping where you’re at is going to be very comfortable…”

I gave Dusk an uneasy glance, holding my bag tight to my chest.

“Right… forgot, scared of heights,” she murmured.

Biting my lip, I shakily got to my feet. Readjusting my bag, I crawled onto her open hand. She met me this far, I might as well try and do the same… but that didn’t stop my body from shaking. The giantess’s face softened a bit at my actions, using both hands to cradle me. I closed my eyes tightly as she moved, a small whimper coming out.

“You okay there?” Dusk asked, concerned.

“Y-Yeah… still a lot to process in one setting.”

“Well, for what it’s worth… Thank you. It’s nice to have a real conversation for once. I can’t remember the last time I’ve talked with someone.”

I smiled, “Yeah… same here, even if it took a round trip through your gut to get to this point.”

Dusk smirked at that, leaning back in her makeshift bed. “Hey for what it was worth… you tasted pretty good.”

“Annnnd, I’m not going to continue this conversation. I’d rather not repeat that again. Too much for the senses all at once…”

“No promises… but I’ll keep the eating to the down low,” she chuckled, letting slide off of her hand.

Shifting a bit more, Dusk reached over to grab a sheet of cloth. She proceeded to rip a small section of it, handing it to me. “Sorry, this isn’t exactly a 5 star hotel,” she muttered. “But at least it will keep you warm.”

“Thanks,” I responded quietly, taking the makeshift blanket. Yawning, I propped up my backpack to use as a pillow. Grabbing the fabric, I pulled it over my body. It didn’t smell the greatest, but would keep me warm at least. I was close to passing out when Dusk broke the silence.

“Sleep tight,” she murmured.

“You too,” I said with a smile, soon succumbing to sleep’s embrace.

[themirokai]

now I wanna know- why isn't drinking water free in the US?

Hi there friend! Thanks very much for taking the bait from this post. Buckle up, this is a long one.

If you want to put out a cistern and collect rainwater and use that, congratulations! Your water is free! Plus the cost of maintaining your cistern and keeping it clean. If you’re lucky enough to live somewhere with a high enough water table to have a well, then your water is also free + the cost of the well and well maintenance.

But if you want water to come out of your tap on demand and you can’t or don’t want to maintain a cistern and you can’t or don’t want to have a well… you need public water!

How do we get public water? Well, a government entity (usually. there are some private utilities, but that’s a different post. I have strong feelings) has rights to take water out of a river or a lake, or they have a reservoir, or they have access to an aquifer. Then they have to transport the water out of the source. This generally requires aqueducts or massive pipes, which are expensive and need to be maintained, which is also expensive. The pipe leading out of one of my utility’s reservoirs is 12 feet in diameter.

Does the water go directly from the source to your home? Nope! It gets piped to a water filtration plant! The process of modern water filtration is complicated but it involves both physical and chemical treatment to make sure the water isn’t carrying any parasites, harmful bacteria, or pollutants and it has the right pH. Not only are these filtration plants extremely expensive to build and maintain but the process of operating them is extremely expensive, both in terms of hiring skilled staff and having appropriate materials for the filters and chemical treatment.

After the treated water (called “finished water” in the biz) is ready it does get piped to your house.

If you use public water, do you know where your local water filtration plant is? No? That probably means it’s not in your immediate neighborhood, which probably means it’s several miles or more away. To get to your house, the water needs to travel through an extensive pipe network. These pipes are smaller but they have to remain pressurized so that no contaminants can get into the water on its way to your house. But pipes break! Especially if you live somewhere with a freeze/thaw cycle. Maintaining this pipe network is, you guessed it, expensive! It requires materials and extremely skilled workers who perform in very very difficult conditions. Plus lots of engineering to keep the whole system pressurized even when one part of it breaks. Oh, and you know what lots of pipes were made out of in the early 20th century? Lead! So all around the country utilities need to make extensive and costly infrastructure upgrades because now we know lead pipes are really freaking bad.

Okay, so you get the basic picture. And I haven’t even gotten into Safe Drinking Water Act compliance, but most of that happens at the filtration plant. Oo! Or desalinization because some utilities pull their water from the sea and need to take the salt out. I know basically nothing about this except that it is likely complicated and expensive to do at scale.

This is essentially why I get frustrated by people who argue “why should we pay for something that falls out of the sky?” Because finished water doesn’t fall from the sky and it sure as hell doesn’t fall from the sky into your faucet. (Side note: as a public utility official I have been screamed at by the “it falls from the sky” people. A thing I like about the private sector is that people scream at me a lot less.)

Now, there is a very strong argument to be made that because water is necessary for human life, it should be provided by the government for free to everyone. And just like the costs of roads or public education, this should be part of the public budget and paid for by taxes and no one should have a water bill. I don’t disagree with this. I’m sure that’s how it’s done in some countries.

I don’t have a well-researched answer on the history of water utilities but I do have some facts and some (very) educated conjectures. Water rights in the US are complicated (another separate post!) but they’re based on private ownership. Ever since white people came to this country people have been claiming ownership over water and charging each other money for taking water out of rivers or lakes or the ground. You can measure how much of it someone uses and charge them for it. Water is treated like a commodity because unlike other public goods, it *can* be treated like a commodity and then, you know, capitalism. Again, I’m not saying that’s right.

But as a society, if we believe that no one should have a water bill, then we need to figure out how to pay for all the very expensive steps in the process I outlined at the top. Could that just be taxes? Sure, if you have a system that supports taxes at that level. Do I believe that public funding of water infrastructure would be a fuckton better than a lot of things we use taxes for now? Absolutely! But that requires massive institutional change and this isn’t generally an issue that people know enough about to demand change.

If you read this far, congratulations! You now know more stuff about drinking water!

[curiositysavesthecat]

* “Unsure. Never pay attention. I’m a pet owner but someone else takes care of this” means you’re not in charge of who feeds your pet(s) and/or what source you drink from, because you have someone else take care of that for you and/or the pet(s). Maybe it’s your parents, partner, other family members, etc. You just never pay attention to it, since both you and your pet(s) have access to clean water just the same. So this alone obviously does NOT mean your pet is neglected.

This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[koichizeni-dunkminimi]

Mykolaiv is a city in Ukraine that has not had access to clean drinking water from taps for more than a year since start of the war (we have to collect it and carry it if we want to cook, eat or drink).

But people here are indomitable 🥲🥲🥲

Translation: save water - drink beer! Do you want beer?-> yes

-> no-> hehe liar;)

Чисто Миколаївський двіж

[tabarkraed]

In the blistering heat of the Gaza sun, my friend’s @bilalhammadsblog brothers stand in long, desperate lines for a small portion of water. Each drop is precious, meant to quench their thirst, cook their meager meals, and feed their children.

facings the crowded conditions, and the anxiety of not knowing if there will be enough water for them.

The feeling of helplessness is pervasive. and the fear of running out of this essential resource gnaws at them constantly. The lines are long and the wait is grueling, often leading to feelings of frustration and despair. In the midst of conflict, the simple act of getting water turns into a dangerous and exhausting endeavor.

Compared to this, people in normal conditions have the luxury of easy access to water. They can turn on a tap at any time, with clean water flowing freely for drinking, cooking, and bathing. There is no need to worry about running out or about the safety of retrieving it. This stark contrast highlights the severe hardship faced by those in war zones.

For those standing in line in Gaza, the struggle for water is a daily battle for survival. It’s a harsh reminder of the dire circumstances they live in, where every necessity comes with immense difficulty and risk. Meanwhile, for others, water is a given—an everyday convenience that is rarely given a second thought.

This difference underscores the profound impact of war on the most basic aspects of life, making what should be simple and routine into a constant, grueling struggle. The men in Gaza are forced to endure conditions that test their limits and challenge their resilience, all while trying to maintain hope and provide for their families amidst the chaos.

I kindly ask you to consider donating to support my friend's family. Your contribution will provide the essential resources they need to endure these incredibly harsh conditions. 🤍

[lthienofdorthonion]

The Alchemy Between Us: Draco and Hermione’s Tale

CHAPTER II

Author Notes:

I’m so thrilled with the amazing response to part one of this story! Honestly, I didn’t expect much interaction, so seeing your comments and support has made me so happy. Writing this has been such a joy—I wanted to include moments and conversations I’ve always imagined Draco saying or doing at least once. Thanks to your encouragement, I’m continuing the story, and I’m super excited to dive deeper! I’m not sure yet how long it’ll be or how many chapters there’ll be, but I’ll keep you updated as I figure it out. Things are about to get pretty emotional, so get ready! Before I leave you to the next chapter, I wanted to share a playlist I put together just for this story—if you’re into music, you might enjoy it!

These songs remind me of the characters and really help me tap into the emotions I’m writing about. I hope they do the same for you.

Try playing it on shuffle for a different vibe each time you read. I’ll keep adding songs as the story grows. 😊

Here’s the link:

..............................................................................................................................

II

When two unexplained forces collide, that's when the alchemy between misunderstood souls becomes magic.

The morning light crept into Hermione’s flat with a soft insistence, its golden rays filtering through the curtains to rest gently on her face. She stirred, slightly scrunching her nose as the brightness coaxed her out of sleep. Her hair was a wild halo of curls, tangled from tossing and turning, and her head throbbed faintly—a dull ache left behind by the previous night’s drinks.

She groaned softly, shielding her eyes with one hand as she swung her legs off the bed. The chill of the wooden floor against her bare feet made her shiver, but she didn’t bother grabbing her slippers. The only thought in her mind was water—cold, clear water to soothe the dryness in her throat.

Hermione shuffled into the kitchen with slow, deliberate steps. The soft padding of her bare feet broke the quiet of the morning. She moved with a kind of practiced efficiency, her movements unhurried yet intentional. Reaching for a glass in the cabinet, she filled it with water from the tap. The coolness of the drink was a balm, soothing the dryness in her throat as she gripped the glass tightly, savoring each sip.

Despite having fully integrated herself into the wizarding world after the war, Hermione’s home was a striking contrast to the enchanted, charmed spaces so common among witches and wizards. Her house was entirely Muggle—manual in every sense. No floating teacups, no self-dusting furniture, no magical cleaning spells humming in the background. It was a deliberate choice, a quiet tribute to the world she had come from, a place that still held pieces of her identity.

The kitchen, much like the rest of her home, was beautifully decorated in a way that was cozy and unpretentious. Natural wood tones complemented soft, earthy colors, while sunlight poured through large windows, highlighting the thoughtful simplicity of the space. 

The living room, however, was the heart of the house—a library that felt more alive than any room she’d ever been in. One entire wall was taken up by a curved bookcase that stretched from floor to ceiling, spanning ten levels high. The shelves were filled with books of every imaginable kind—different authors, colors, sizes, genres, and ages, some with spines cracked from frequent reading, others pristine and waiting to be discovered. Each one seemed to tell a story beyond its pages, a life touched by her insatiable love for knowledge.

Integrated into the bookcase was a ladder mounted on a moving rail, allowing access to even the highest shelves. It glided smoothly along the curve of the wall, a practical yet whimsical addition. Interspersed among the books were plants—trailing vines of Devil’s Ivy, their leaves spilling gracefully over the edges of the shelves. The vibrant green of the ivy brought a softness to the space, contrasting with the sharp lines of the books.

Dried flowers were arranged in small, glass vases along the lower shelves—lavender sprigs, preserved roses, and delicate bunches of baby’s breath. They added a touch of nostalgia, their subtle fragrance mingling with the faint scent of aged paper.

Opposite the towering bookcase stood a sturdy wooden desk, its surface rich with the patina of age. The desk, clearly antique, bore the marks of time and use—scratches, faint ink stains, and smoothed edges from years of work. It was where she spent countless hours immersed in her writing, research, or correspondence. Above the desk hung a collection of photographs, arranged with deliberate care, each one telling a chapter of her story.

There was a black-and-white photograph of herself as a baby, her curious eyes wide and her wild curls already untamable. Beside it, a photo of her parents, their arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace, radiating the simple joy of their family life. Scattered among these were pictures of her Hogwarts years: laughing with Harry and Ron, sitting by the Gryffindor common room fireplace, and a group shot of the Gryffindor first-years, all impossibly young and bright-eyed.

In the center of the display hung the most distinctive photograph of all. Framed in silver—a stark contrast to the gold frames surrounding it—it was a black-and-white image of Hermione and Harry. They stood side by side, their smiles soft and unguarded, the connection between them palpable even in stillness. Attached to the frame was a dried lotus flower, delicate and preserved. Its placement was deliberate—a symbol of resilience, growth, and finding beauty in the midst of adversity.

This wall, like the library opposite it, was a testament to Hermione’s journey—a tapestry of moments that had shaped her, woven with love, loss, and triumph. Every time she sat at that desk, surrounded by those memories, she felt grounded, reminded of where she came from and how far she had come.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. Past ten. She let out a long breath, leaning against the counter. It was her day off, but the list of things she needed to accomplish was already forming in her mind: groceries, laundry, and more importantly, finishing the report she had promised herself she wouldn’t bring home.

The sunlight streamed in through the windows, wrapping the room in a golden glow. Her gaze dropped to herself, and she realized—she was still wearing the clothes from last night. She looked down at the deep burgundy dress she’d worn to the pub, the fabric now slightly wrinkled from sleep. A faint smudge on the hem reminded her of a spilled drink she hadn’t bothered to notice at the time. Her fingers moved absently, brushing against the fabric draped over her shoulders.

Malfoy’s coat.

The realization hit her with surprise. The coat was heavy and warm, its dark material contrasted against the deep red of her dress. She lifted the collar slightly, inhaling the faint scent that lingered on it—woodsy, clean, distinctly him. It was subtle but unmistakable, and it pulled her back into the night before: the low hum of the pub, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on their faces, the way they had spoken with an honesty she hadn’t expected. Her heart fluttered as she remembered the moments they had shared—his quiet revelations and unexpected humor.

It felt unreal. Malfoy—Draco—sitting across from her, with measured and thoughtful words and a graze that was steady and almost kind. The same boy who had once sneered at her in hallways and hurled insults as naturally as breathing. They had spent years in opposition, and yet, there they were, two adults who had stumbled into each other’s lives again after five years of silence.

Shaking off the thoughts, Hermione reached for her favorite mug—a light pink porcelain cup with delicate stars etched into its surface, its glaze cool and smooth under her fingertips. She poured herself a cup of strong, black coffee, watching as the dark liquid swirled into the cup, the rich aroma spreading through the kitchen like a balm.

She straightened and the coat slipped slightly from her shoulders, and she adjusted it absentmindedly. The scent still clung to her, grounding her in the present moment. She thought of his parting words, his quiet nod, the way he had draped the coat over her as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Shaking off the reverie, she pushed herself away from the counter. There were things to do, and she couldn’t afford to lose herself in thoughts of Draco Malfoy, of all people. But even as she moved about her flat, she couldn’t quite shake the warmth that lingered—not just from the coat, but from the memory of the man who had given it to her.

The warmth of the coffee lingered on her hands as Hermione set the mug down on the counter. She exhaled deeply and moved toward her room with a clear intent on stepping into the shower and washing away the last remnants of sleep—and the strange, electric thoughts of the previous night. But as she reached for the faucet, a dull thud against her living room window made her pause.

Curious, she retraced her steps and opened the window. A sleek black owl was perched on the sill, its feathers glinting faintly in the light. Around one leg was a delicate silver chain with a pendant engraved with the letter "M." The owl’s piercing yellow eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking and eagle-like, as it extended a letter clutched in its right leg.

Hermione hesitated for a moment before taking the envelope. It was blank, with no name or markings to indicate its sender. As she examined it, the owl remained unnervingly still, its eyes watching her as if it were waiting for something. Owls typically departed once their deliveries were made, but this one seemed intent on lingering.

She broke the seal, unfolding the parchment within and began to read:

Outskirts Brew. 8 PM.You’ll be met. Dress with care.Bring your storm, and I’ll bring my resolve.

It was signed with a simple "D."

Her heart stuttered, and she lifted an eyebrow, her gaze moving between the signature and the pendant on the owl’s chain. On the back of the small silver medallion was the unmistakable etching of a serpent.

“Malfoy” she exclaimed in surprise. Her cheeks flushed as memories of the previous evening rushed back.

Flashback “Coffee,” she had said abruptly, her words tumbling out before she could stop them.

He had raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild amusement. “Excuse me?”

“Tomorrow,” she clarified, her cheeks burning. “If you’re free. I... I’d like to talk more.”

Draco had studied her for a long moment, his face unreadable, though his silver-gray eyes softened just enough to make her heart skip. Slowly, he nodded. “I’d like that too.”

End of Flashback

She remembered blurting it out, feeling drunk on courage but strangely liberated. She definitely hadn’t thought it through before saying it. They hadn’t agreed on a time or place, so she had convinced herself it wouldn’t actually happen.

But now... the note.

It felt real.

She glanced back at the owl, its piercing gaze fixed on her with an almost unnerving patience. The note felt heavier in her hand now, the weight of his proposition pressing against her thoughts. Should she even consider it? After all, it was Malfoy. They weren’t friends. They had never been friends. And last night? That was the first real conversation they’d had in—well, forever.

She frowned, her fingers twitching as if to dismiss the owl and the idea altogether. It was easier to let it go, wasn’t it? Easier to avoid opening a door she’d never thought to approach, let alone knock on.

But just as she moved to shoo the owl away, her mind pulled her back to the night before.

Flashback

“People like me don’t get to just start over, Granger. No one wants to forgive, no one wants to forget. Even now...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering across the room, where a few wizards were still casting sideways glances at him, their disdain as palpable as the stale air in the pub.

He gestured toward them with a faint smirk. “See? Even now, they still can’t let it go. And I don’t think they ever will.”

End Flashback

Hermione blinked, the memory as vivid as if it had happened moments ago. She looked down at the note in her hand again. What was she doing? This wasn’t just some trivial decision. But as much as she tried to ignore it, the memory of his raw honesty clung to her, his words and the quiet vulnerability in his eyes whispering louder than the doubts in her mind.

She exhaled, the tension easing just slightly. Maybe—just maybe—she owed it to herself, and perhaps even to him, to see where this led.

“You won’t leave until I send my reply, will you?” she asked, meeting the bird’s piercing gaze.

The owl gave the faintest nod of acknowledgement, its sharp, eagle-like eyes never leaving hers.

“Fine,” she muttered.

With a resigned sigh, she crossed to the desk, tore a small piece of parchment from her notepad, and grabbed a quill. Her hand hovered over the blank space for a moment, her mind whirling, before she began to write:

Wear your best shoes and the finest suit, but not in black, green or gray—choose the colors within you, the ones you rarely show.And I, too, will wear the opposite of myself, to reflect the duality within me.See you at 8. H.

She read it over, the words feeling both poetic and deeply vulnerable. Folding the note carefully, she reached for a thin red ribbon from her desk drawer. With precise fingers, she scrolled the note tightly and tied it with the ribbon, creating a small but elegant bundle.

The owl tilted its head, watching her as she approached. Its sharp eyes followed her every move as she knelt in front of it. Gently, she secured the note to its right talon, ensuring the ribbon was snug but not too tight.

“Make sure he gets this.”  she said in a barely audible voice.

The owl ruffled its feathers slightly, as if to say it would fulfill its duty, and then stood perfectly still, waiting. Hermione hesitated, unsure why she felt the need to linger.

Finally, she turned away, her steps quick as she headed to the bathroom. The sound of the faucet turning on filled the flat, but her thoughts remained on the note, the owl, and the man it was meant for. Even as the hot water washed over her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this exchange was the start of something she couldn’t quite define.

It was unexpected, yes. But perhaps the most beautiful things in life always were.

..............................................................................................................................

A few hours later, Hermione was walking briskly toward the Ministry Library, her arms full of books and an overstuffed bag slung over her shoulder. Her attire reflected her practicality: muggle jeans tucked into worn, brown, knee-high boots, a beige coat that matched her snug bonnet and gloves. Her hair, tied in a haphazardly high ponytail, had loose curls escaping and framing her face, which was tinged pink from the cold. Snowflakes clung to her coat as the heavy snowfall blanketed the streets, her breath visible in the frosty air.

Pushing through the library doors, she exhaled in relief at the warmth that enveloped her.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Greenspindle," Hermione greeted warmly, shaking snow from her coat. "I’m back."

Mrs. Greenspindle, an elderly witch with silver-streaked hair tied into a low bun, looked up from behind the counter, adjusting her crescent-moon glasses. She arched an eyebrow.

"Miss Granger, I thought today was your day off," she said, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and amusement.

"It is," Hermione admitted with a sheepish smile, shifting the bag on her shoulder. "But I needed to return some books—and I need to borrow a few others."

Mrs. Greenspindle let out a hearty laugh, shaking her head. "You’re going to work yourself into an early grave, you know that? Running to and from the library on your day off!"

"Stop it," Hermione said with a lighthearted chuckle, placing the returned books on the counter. "I’m fine. I just like staying productive."

The librarian smirked knowingly. "Productive, she says. You, Miss Granger, are a force of nature."

The brunette laughed again, brushing away the comment as she turned her attention to the shelves. "And I’m bloody proud of that."

As she moved deeper into the library, the sound of her boots clicking against the polished floor echoed softly, accompanied by the familiar rustle of pages and the faint scent of parchment. For a moment, Hermione felt completely at ease, surrounded by the sanctuary of books and the quiet bustle of the magical library.

She needed very specific books to complete her report, a task that felt as pressing as the snowflakes accumulating outside. The report was crucial—its success would play a key role in ensuring that the upcoming negotiations with the French Ministry went smoothly. With representatives arriving next week, every detail had to be flawless. The Gryffindor refused to leave anything to chance, knowing the stakes were far too high for anything less than perfection.

As she walked deeper into the rows of towering shelves, her mind churned with everything she had to do. She silently mapped out her strategy for presenting the information as her hands brushed over the spines of books until she found the ones she needed.

The weight of her responsibilities pressed heavily on her, but what truly tipped the scales was her recently appointed boss, Roderick. He was insufferable—constantly nitpicking her work, second-guessing her decisions, and micromanaging every detail of her already meticulous reports. His lack of trust felt like a constant slap in the face, and it only added to the ever-growing stress gnawing at her.

Hermione exhaled sharply as she pulled a particularly hefty tome from the shelf, gripping it tightly as if the act could somehow steady her nerves. Her mind raced with thoughts of how to deal with Roderick’s incessant questioning. No matter how flawless her work was, he always managed to find something to criticize, as if his entire purpose was to make her life more difficult.

She glanced down at her ink-stained hands as a faint scowl tugged at her lips. She’d poured herself into this project, sacrificing sleep and time off, and still, it never felt like enough under his scrutiny. As she added another book to her growing pile, she muttered under her breath, “Honestly, the man wouldn’t recognize thorough research if it hit him in the face.”

“Want me to throw a book at him and find out?” a familiar voice chimed in from behind her.

Startled, Hermione turned around and was greeted by a familiar freckled smile. It was Ron.

“Hey, Ronald,” she said as she smiled. “Working on a Saturday and poking around the library? Didn’t think that was your scene.”

“Come on, Hermione. it’s Ron, not Ronald,” he said with a dramatic groan. “Hearing you call me that feels like Mum’s about to give me a lecture about eating all the biscuits again.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “Who says I’m not about to give you a lecture?”

“Are you, though?” he asked in a playful tone as he leaned slightly closer, taking on a flirty edge. “Because if you are, I might just enjoy it, pay attention… depending on the topic or how close you are.”

Hermione’s expression immediately frosted over. “Don’t,” she said flatly.

The smirk faded from Ron’s face as she straightened and added, “You know I don’t like it when you act like that.” Without giving him a chance to reply, she turned her attention back to the books, dismissing the conversation entirely.

“I just had to come because I forgot something in my office,” Ron said, breaking the silence. “Thought I’d say hi to Mrs. Greenspindle before heading out. Glad I did.”

Hermione nodded, her lips forming a tight smile. “Well, I must head back home,” she said, stepping toward the library’s entrance. “See you on Monday, Ronald.”

“Wait,” Ron called after her, taking a step forward. “Have you eaten? I was thinking we could grab lunch. There’s this new place—”

“I ate 30 minutes ago,” Hermione interrupted smoothly, not missing a beat. “Sorry, I’ll have to pass on that one. But make sure to eat something warm. It’s freezing out.”

Ron frowned but quickly recovered. “Alright, then. How about dinner? We’re all meeting up. Ginny and her... husband,” he added, the word laced with obvious disdain.

Hermione’s brows knit together in frustration. “Ron, really?” she said sharply. “It’s about time you grow up and show Theo some respect. He loves your sister, and he makes her happy. Isn’t that what matters?”

Ron crossed his arms. “I’ll never like him. Or his kind,” he said bitterly. “Death Eaters don’t change, Hermione. You of all people should know that.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed with anger. “He’s not a Death Eater anymore and you’re being unfair, Ron, and you know it. You’re hurting Ginny by acting this way, whether you realize it or not. One day, you’re going to regret this.”

Ron’s scowl deepened, but Hermione didn’t give him a chance to argue further. “And I can’t make it to dinner anyway,” she said in a firm tone.

Ron looked surprised. “What? Why not? What are you up to?”

There was a brief hesitation, a flicker of something unspoken in her expression, before she finally replied, “It’s personal.”

Ron opened his mouth to press further but didn’t argue further.

She glanced at him briefly and caught the flicker of disappointment that crossed his face. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and his hopeful expression dimmed.

“Next week then,” he said, fixing his blue eyes on her.

“Maybe,” she replied in a polite but firm tone, as discomfort crept into her demeanor.

“I can work with maybe,” Ron said, his eyes brightening slightly.

“See you on Monday, Ronald,” Hermione said curtly, adjusting the strap of her bag. She turned to Mrs. Greenspindle with a nod. “See you on Monday too, Mrs. Greenspindle.”

Without waiting for a response, Hermione exited the library, the snow crunching under her boots as she stepped back into the cold. The chill on her face was a welcome distraction from the lingering awkwardness of the encounter.

As Hermione stepped away, Mrs. Greenspindle, who had been quietly observing the exchange from behind the counter, raised an eyebrow at Ron. “You don’t give up, do you?” she remarked, her tone was dry but not unkind.

Ron shrugged with his lopsided grin firmly in place. “I know that ‘maybe’ will turn into a ‘yes’ soon enough,” he said confidently, folding his arms.

Mrs. Greenspindle gave a soft, skeptical hum, but Ron didn’t seem to notice—or didn’t care.

Outside, the snow crunched under Hermione’s boots as she stepped into the biting cold. The chill on her face was a welcome distraction from the lingering awkwardness of the encounter, her breath forming little clouds in the frosty air.

..............................................................................................................................

The kitchen was bathed in warm light, the scent of herbs and fresh vegetables filling the air. Ginny Weasley, now 26, stood by the hearth, her vibrant energy undimmed by the soft wear of adulthood. Her copper-red hair, cut short to jaw-length, framed her freckled face in gentle waves, with a few unruly strands escaping to brush against her cheeks. Her bright brown eyes, still as fiery and determined as ever, glinted in the glow of the firelight, though they carried a touch of warmth that softened her intensity.

Her left hand, which hovered over the edge of the cauldron to feel for warmth, caught the light of the fire, glinting against the simple yet elegant wedding ring on her finger. The band was thin, made of gold, with a subtle engraving along the edges that resembled intertwining vines—delicate and natural, perfectly reflecting her earthy spirit.

“Honey!” Ginny called, glancing toward the open window. Her voice carried over the sound of birds chirping outside. “Five more minutes, and it’ll be ready!”

“Coming!” Theo’s voice responded from the garden, bright and eager.

Ginny smiled to herself and turned back to the cauldron, stirring the ingredients slowly. Despite her use of magic to handle the heavy lifting, much of the preparation had been manual—a skill Hermione had taught her, calling it a "grounding" way to cook. Washing, chopping, and peeling by hand felt like a meditative ritual now, though it had taken her some time to appreciate the process. It seemed almost prehistoric compared to the convenience of magical cooking, but the results? A taste unmatched.

She leaned in slightly, ensuring the water began to boil, her wand tucked behind her ear. Suddenly, she felt a firm, warm grip around her waist, and before she could react, strong arms pulled her back into an embrace.

"Theo!" she gasped as a trail of soft kisses warmed the base of her neck, sending a shiver through her. “You scared me! I’m cooking here.”

“When you said five minutes, I thought you meant to be ready for me,” Theo murmured, his tone playful and low as he shifted to kiss her jawline. His arms tightened around her, pulling her snugly against him.

She laughed, though her cheeks flushed with heat not from the fire. “Not now,” she said, her tone teasing but firm. “My parents are coming.”

Theo groaned softly, pausing his affection as though hit by a sudden downpour. He rested his chin on her shoulder, exhaling dramatically.

“Oh yeah,” he said, his voice dripping with mock annoyance. “I forgot.”

Ginny turned her head slightly to glance at him, catching the pout forming on his lips. She gave him a light tap on his arm. “Behave,” she said, smirking. “You know how Mum gets when the food’s not ready on time.”

He sighed, loosening his grip but not entirely letting go. “Fine, but I’m stealing you the moment they leave.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” he added, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

Ginny’s eyes sparkled with playful defiance as she glanced over her shoulder. “You think you can handle me after a whole family dinner?” she teased, stirring the cauldron with an exaggerated motion. “Better start training now.”

Theo’s grin widened, and he pulled her closer, his lips brushing the back of her neck. “Oh, I can handle anything you throw at me,” he murmured in a low and warm voice. “Besides, I’ve had practice.”

Ginny laughed softly, the sound filled with affection and mischief. “You think so, do you?”

“Oh, I know so,” he replied, his hands tracing the curve of her waist under the guise of a casual touch. “But I’ll take my time with you, Gin. All the time in the world, if that’s what it takes.”

She paused, leaning back slightly into him. “You’re really laying it on thick today, aren’t you?”

“Only because I know you’re enjoying it,” he said, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke. “Can’t resist me.”

Ginny shook her head, trying to hide her smile. “You’re insufferable.”

Theo chuckled, the sound vibrating through her as he squeezed her waist playfully. “You love it.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve got a spell on me,” she quipped, eyes glinting with teasing mischief.

“Oh, I do,” Theo said, his tone turning serious for a moment as he met her gaze. “A spell I never plan to break.”

Ginny felt her heart flutter slightly, despite herself. She turned in his arms, narrowing her eyes as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his cheek. “Keep talking like that, and I might just believe you.”

Theo smirked, pulling her in tighter. “I’m counting on it.”

Ginny smiled softly, but then glanced toward the clock on the wall. “You should go change. They’ll be here soon.”

Theo hesitated, his playful demeanor faltering for a brief moment. He bit his lip, looking a bit anxious. “Do you think one day they’ll like me?” he asked, voice softer now.

Ginny turned to face him and her expression softened as she placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I’m certain they already do.” Her smile deepened. “Just ignore Ron. He’s difficult with anyone I’ve dated, but he probably dislikes you more because you’re my husband but If he wants to keep being my brother, he’ll learn to like you.”

Theo’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Gin. I’ll try not to let him rattle me.”

Ginny nodded, squeezing his hand gently before stepping back. “I know you will. Now, go get ready. I’ll make sure dinner’s still on track.” She gave him a playful wink.

He chuckled and gave her a quick peck on the lips before heading toward the stairs to change. 

..............................................................................................................................

It was past 6 when Hermione finally walked through the door of her apartment, and the sky outside had long since darkened, the cold evening air creeping into the hallway. As she stepped inside, the weight of the books she had been carrying shifted, and several of them tumbled to the floor with a loud thud.

"Damn it," she muttered, crouching to gather them. Her arms were full and she made her way to the sofa to set them down with a slight groan of frustration.

She paused for a moment, letting the warmth of her home settle over her before heading toward her bedroom.

Her room was a soft haven of lavender, the walls a pale light purple that gave the space an almost ethereal feel. The scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air, and delicate curtains swayed slightly with the breeze outside. A small vanity sat in one corner, cluttered with a few beauty products, while the bed was neatly made, the comforter adorned with soft lace details. The room was undeniably feminine, serene, and cozy, filled with personal touches that made it unmistakably hers.

Hermione moved towards her closet, running a hand over the various clothes hanging inside. She felt a flutter of nervousness in her chest. Was it a date? No, definitely not. She scolded herself for even entertaining the thought. It was more like a social reunion with an old acquaintance. That’s what it was, nothing more.

He’d mentioned dressing up. But what did that mean? The place he’d invited her to—was it elegant? Casual? Somewhere in between? She had no idea. Never heard about the bloody place before. She let out a long sigh, still unsure as she continued to sift through her clothes.

Then, her mind flickered back to what she had replied to him earlier. She immediately dismissed her usual attire—too laid-back, too predictable. She didn’t want to appear too casual. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked a black, long-sleeved, turtle-neck mini dress. It fit her like a glove, hugging her curves in all the right places. She paired it with sheer illusion fleece-lined tights and matching black black boots just below the knee.

With a quick flick of her wand, she styled her hair into a high ponytail, carefully curling a few loose strands to give it a soft, polished look. She added a ribbon, tying it into a neat bow, and finished with a touch of blush and gloss on her lips, giving herself a final look in the mirror.

Hermione carefully slipped on her light pink coat, the soft woolen fabric feeling warm and luxurious against her skin. It was her most elegant coat, the one she reserved for special occasions, and it hugged her frame just perfectly, finishing at her knees. She paired it with a set of delicate silver earrings—small, tear-shaped opals, their iridescence catching the light with every movement. They shimmered with a soft blue hue, the color reminding her of the calm ocean just after dawn.

Despite the care she’d taken in her appearance, Hermione found herself still debating whether to go at all. She had replied to the owl—was it out of politeness? Or had she simply succumbed to a moment of delusion, thinking that meeting him again would make everything feel more real?

Was what had happened yesterday even real? The thought swirled in her mind as she adjusted the collar of her coat. She was about to meet him again, and for some reason, she was nervously wondering if she looked good enough. She had never cared about that before. But now… now it felt different. She felt different.

With a soft sigh, she grabbed a small, elegant bag to complete her outfit. From the chair by her bed, she carefully picked up Malfoy’s coat. Folding it with precise movements, she made sure it would stay neat until she could return it to him. Before placing it into the bag, however, she paused for a moment. She couldn’t help herself. She lifted the coat to her face, inhaling the familiar scent that lingered on the fabric. It smelled of him—subtle but distinct. And for a moment, she found herself lingering in the memory of that moment, a bittersweet feeling settling in her chest.

Just as she placed the coat inside the bag, a sharp knock at the door startled her.

"Who's there?" she called out, her heart skipping a beat.

"Your driver, Miss Granger," came a raspy voice from the other side. "I was sent to pick you up and drive you to Outskirts Brew at the request of my master."

Hermione quickly turned toward the door and opened it to find a tall, older wizard standing in the hallway. He was dressed in a traditional chauffeur's attire, complete with a black waistcoat and a silver chain dangling from his pocket watch.

"I..." she began, glancing at the clock. She was running a bit late.

"Please, go ahead," he urged, his voice gentle yet firm. "The carriage is waiting."

With a quick nod, Hermione stepped out of her flat, feeling a sudden rush of anticipation. The chauffeur led her down the hallway toward the front door, and there, just beyond the entrance, stood a magnificent carriage. It was unlike any she had ever seen. The carriage itself was crafted from gleaming, polished wood, its frame adorned with intricate silver filigree that shimmered in the dim light. The windows were etched with delicate floral patterns, and the roof seemed to glimmer with a soft, almost ethereal glow.

But what truly caught her attention was the creature pulling the carriage. It was a magnificent magical animal—unlike anything she had ever encountered. Its body resembled that of a large, sleek panther, but with wings—long, feathered wings that sparkled like the night sky. The wings were black, edged with silvery-blue streaks that caught the light as the creature shifted on its feet. Its eyes glowed with a soft, golden hue, and as it spread its wings to lift the carriage, it let out a low, melodic hum.

Hermione frowned, her mind racing as she tried to recall what kind of magical creature it was. The description tugged at the edges of her memory, but frustratingly, she couldn’t place it. She had read about countless magical beasts, yet this one eluded her. The hum resonated in her chest, pulling her thoughts further away from logic and deeper into awe.

The entire scene was stunning—otherworldly and beautiful. Hermione found herself briefly caught in awe before she was gently ushered into the carriage by the chauffeur.

As she climbed inside, she was surprised by how elegant the interior was. Soft velvet cushions lined the seats, and the air was infused with a gentle lavender scent, soothing and calming. The golden chandeliers above glimmered with soft, flickering light, and the carriage seemed to hum with a soft magic that made the entire experience feel dreamlike. The space was more than a mere mode of transport—it was a small, enchanted haven, made just for the occasion.

The chauffeur closed the door softly behind her, and the magical creature let out a soft growl, its wings lifting as it began to soar into the sky. The carriage swayed gently with the rise, and Hermione settled back into the plush seat, feeling a strange sense of anticipation—what would the evening hold?

Hermione watched in awe as the world below her became a blur, the city lights fading into the distance. The stars above twinkled brightly, their shimmer reflecting in the creature's wings as they glided through the cool, crisp air. The full moon illuminated their path, casting a soft silver glow that bathed the sky and the ground below, turning the world into a dreamscape.

The Gryffindor felt the rush of excitement building in her chest, but there was also a flutter of nervousness. What the hell was she doing? Why did this feel so different? She glanced out the window, watching the sprawling landscape below, all while trying to ignore the tightness in her stomach and the anticipation coursing through her veins. She was nervous, but also undeniably excited, unaware of what could happen next.

After a while of flying high above the city, the hustle and bustle of the urban life faded away completely. The streets and signs of civilization were left behind, and soon, Hermione found herself gazing down at a darkened expanse where no more businesses or lights could be seen. The only thing that broke the darkness was a small, glowing patch far below. It was illuminated by soft golden lights, nestled against the backdrop of a mountain covered in a blanket of pure white snow.

The creature descended toward the ground, wings beating softly as it brought the carriage down in a graceful arc. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as they landed smoothly just in front of a small, elegant building, nestled within the snow-covered landscape. The place looked almost otherworldly, like something straight out of a fairy tale. The soft glow from within seemed to call to her, offering warmth and shelter from the cold.

The chauffeur opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Hermione to exit the carriage. As she climbed out, her boots sank slightly into the soft snow, and she adjusted herself, feeling the cold air nip at her face and hands. The snow crunched beneath her feet as she stood still for a moment, taking in the beauty of the snow-covered landscape. But before she could do more than admire it, she heard a voice that made her pulse quicken.

"You came," said Malfoy, his voice smooth and low, the words dripping with an almost amused surprise. "I thought you were joking."

Hermione turned to face him, her breath catching as she finally laid eyes on him. He stood tall, a presence that was impossible to ignore. His outfit was unlike anything she’d ever seen him wear before—there was no black, no grey, and definitely no green. Instead, he wore a deep burgundy coat, the color of rich wine, which contrasted against the crisp winter air. The coat was long and perfectly tailored, the fabric soft and thick, protecting him from the cold. Beneath it, a dark cream-colored sweater peeked out, its warmth apparent. He looked stunning—elegant, effortlessly handsome. His silver blond hair, usually perfectly styled or left to fall carelessly, was tied back in a low ponytail, the sleek strands catching the moonlight as they framed his sharp features. The understated elegance of the look only added to the overall refinement of his presence, giving him an air of effortless sophistication that was impossible to ignore.

As he shifted slightly, the moonlight caught on his neck, and she noticed a faint glimpse of his tattoos curling just above the collar of his sweater. Black ink against pale skin, the lines were intricate, deliberate, and hinted at stories untold. 

Hermione held his gaze, trying to steady her breath, and couldn’t help but feel the tension between them. He had always been attractive, she realized that now, but now, in the stillness of the snowy night, he seemed to carry a magnetism she couldn’t ignore.

"Didn't seem that way," she said, her voice steady but with a hint of teasing. "Sent a chauffeur for me and everything."

Malfoy smirked, taking a small step closer. "Just in case," he said as he laid his eyes on her.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What would've happened if I didn't answer the door?"

"But you did," he replied in an even tone, but his eyes were intense, scanning her features as if searching for something deeper.

She stared at him for a moment as her breath formed visible clouds in the air as she responded. "But what if I didn’t?"

Malfoy’s smirk deepened, and his gaze darkened with something like amusement—and maybe a little something more. "Then it would’ve been a boring and lonely night," he said decisively.

Hermione’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly averted her eyes, feeling the heat of his gaze lingering on her. 

"Let's go in, okay?" she said slightly breathless with her arms instinctively wrapping tighter around herself to fend off the cold. "I’m freezing out here."

Malfoy’s smile widened, his eyes never leaving hers. "Thought you'd never ask," he replied.

With that, he led the way toward the entrance, and Hermione followed closely behind. As they entered the Outskirts Brew, the warm glow of the interior enveloped them.

The moment the brunette stepped inside, she was greeted by an atmosphere that felt almost ethereal, like stepping into another world entirely. The Outskirts Brew was far more than just a restaurant—it was an experience, a beautifully crafted space where magic and elegance intertwined seamlessly. The air inside was warm, carrying with it the soft scent of delicate flowers and an underlying hint of something sweet, like the promise of a dessert yet to come.

The floor was made of polished stone tiles, each piece smooth and cool beneath her boots, reflecting the soft light of the lanterns that floated just above, glowing with an iridescent sheen. The walls were draped with sheer, sparkling curtains that shimmered with a faint, otherworldly glow, their movement gentle, as if caressed by an invisible breeze. Twisted vines, made of what appeared to be living crystal, snaked up the walls and across the ceiling, their edges sparkling as if dusted with stardust, giving the whole place a fairy-tale ambiance.

The long dining tables were crafted from polished wood, their surfaces rich and dark, adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures and flowers that seemed to come to life in the flickering candlelight. Each table was set with fine porcelain, gold-trimmed plates, and delicate glassware, but there were no customers in sight. The restaurant was perfectly still, a quiet elegance filling the air, as if the place was waiting for something special—perhaps, for her arrival.

Near the far end of the room, a large fireplace crackled softly, casting a warm golden glow across the room. The hearth was flanked by two tall, slender statues that looked like guardians, their stone faces serene yet watchful. The firelight flickered off the glass baubles suspended above, catching the light and reflecting it in a thousand delicate rainbows.

In the center of the room stood a grand staircase, spiraling upward toward a second floor, where faint voices and the soft clink of glass could be heard, though no one could be seen. The walls surrounding the staircase were adorned with vines that seemed to move in the light, and magical chandeliers hung delicately overhead, their lights casting an enchanting, warm glow on the entire room.

As Hermione marveled at the breathtaking beauty of the place, a soft, yet confident voice broke the silence.

"Welcome to the Outskirts Brew. Always a pleasure to greet you, Mr. Malfoy."

She turned to see a tall, dark-haired host standing near the entrance, dressed in elegant, flowing robes that were deep indigo, embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like moonlight. His face was sharp and handsome with welcoming eyes, and he carried himself with an effortless grace, as though he were born to command attention.

Malfoy smiled slightly at the host's greeting, nodding his head in acknowledgment, though his attention never wavered from Hermione. The host's eyes flickered briefly to her, but he remained composed, maintaining the dignified, serene air that seemed to be the essence of the Outskirts Brew itself.

Hermione, still taking in the beauty of the restaurant, couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. The place was exquisite, and the fact that there were no other diners only made the experience feel even more intimate, almost surreal. She glanced at Malfoy, who seemed perfectly at ease, and for the first time that evening, she wondered exactly what she had gotten herself into.

The host, Marco, stood tall and elegant as he led them through the restaurant, his dark robes flowing as he moved. The soft glow of hanging chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, ethereal light, casting long shadows against the walls adorned with intricate paintings of far-off places. The air smelled faintly of fresh flowers and wood polish, mixing with the aroma of the hearty meals from the kitchen.

He guided them to the table at the center of the restaurant, a large and opulent piece draped in white fabric that shimmered in the soft lighting. The table was set for two, with fine china, crystal glasses, and polished silverware gleaming under the light. The silver cutlery gleamed like stars, perfectly placed, waiting for the meal to begin. The seats were plush, with deep burgundy cushions that invited them to sit and relax, though there was a certain tension in the air.

As they settled into their seats, Malfoy across from Hermione, his eyes studied her silently. His gaze, piercing and intense, lingered longer than necessary, making Hermione feel a subtle heat rise in her cheeks. It was impossible not to notice the way his eyes skimmed over her, the sharp, appreciative look making her heart race a little faster.

“Your coats, please,” Marco said, interrupting the moment in a smooth and courteous tone.

Hermione nodded, swiftly removing her coat and handing it to the host. She felt the cold air of the winter night briefly rush against her skin, but the warmth of the restaurant soon enveloped her. As she adjusted herself in her seat, she caught the way Malfoy’s eyes scanned her again, this time slowly, as though measuring every detail. His eyes traveled from her face down to her boots, before slowly returning up to her face, making her flush under his gaze.

“As requested,” Marco said with a slight bow, “the restaurant is reserved in its entirety only for you two. No one will bother you.”

“Thank you, Marco,” Malfoy replied smoothly, his tone as composed as ever.

The host nodded once more and excused himself, leaving the two of them in the solitude of the empty restaurant.

Hermione finally broke the quiet, unable to suppress her surprise.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she processed his words. “You... reserved the whole restaurant?” she repeated with a note of disbelief in her voice. 

Malfoy met her gaze with a cool, unwavering look. “Yes,” he said in a quiet and firm voice. “I don’t feel like dealing with anyone’s stares or their unwanted attention tonight. Just you and me.”

Hermione blinked, trying to make sense of it. The idea of Malfoy reserving an entire restaurant for the two of them felt... odd. He wasn’t the type to do things like this unless it served his own interests, and yet, there he was, sitting across from her with that same calm, collected expression.

“I didn’t expect this,” Hermione said in a soft voice, betraying the confusion swirling in her mind. “This isn’t what I thought our meeting would be.”

Malfoy’s lips quirked into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. “I don’t do things halfway, Granger,” he replied with a shrug. He leaned back in his chair, stretching out comfortably. “Not when it comes to avoiding... people.”

Before she could ask more questions, the host returned with a decanter of deep red wine, setting it down carefully along with two glasses. With a courteous bow, Marco placed them on the table and began to retreat.

“Your wine, Mr. Malfoy. Miss Granger,” he said smoothly before excusing himself.

Malfoy didn’t hesitate, immediately reaching for the decanter and pouring the wine into both glasses. His movements were precise, confident. He glanced at Hermione with a barely noticeable smirk. "To a quiet, distraction-free night," he said, his voice carrying a light edge of amusement.

Hermione, unsure of how to respond, took the glass from him and her fingers brushed against his for the briefest moment. She could feel a small shiver run down her spine at the touch, but quickly tried to push the sensation away, bringing the glass to her lips. The wine was rich, smooth, with layers of flavor that lingered long after she swallowed.

"It’s exquisite," she remarked, lifting her gaze to meet his.

Malfoy studied her for a moment. 

“Just like the company,” he murmured as he took a sip from his own glass.

Hermione felt her pulse quicken slightly at his words, unsure of whether he meant to compliment her or simply tease her. Either way, she couldn’t ignore the tension that was slowly building between them.

"I thought we were meeting for coffee," she said, trying to deflect, seemingly nervous.

"They have the best coffee here," Malfoy replied, without missing a beat.

"But you just ordered wine," she countered, unable to resist. "Malfoy, this is a fancy restaurant."

"And it has the best view," he replied smoothly, not at all perturbed by her surprise.

Hermione exhaled softly, glancing around the empty room, her voice quieter now. "It’s just us."

Malfoy’s expression darkened slightly, a flicker of something deeper crossing his features. “Yes,” he said, his voice dropping a notch. “Pretty rare, don’t you think?”

She blinked, her mind racing to keep up. “You reserved the entire place for us tonight?” she asked again, unsure whether to be impressed or confused.

“I wanted to avoid distractions.” Malfoy leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “I want to listen to you, Granger. Only you.”

The flush in Hermione’s cheeks deepened at his words. It felt oddly personal, but not in a way she could immediately comprehend. Was he doing this for her—or just because he didn’t want anyone else around? It was hard to tell, and even harder to decide what it meant.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them grew heavy, filled with unasked questions and unspoken truths, leaving them both caught in the moment.

After a while, Hermione looked up at him with a steady gaze. “I thought you wouldn’t do it,” she said in a soft voice and her eyes fixed on his.

“Do what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“Wear anything other than green, grey, or black,” she replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

He smirked, the expression almost teasing. “Well, I’m supposed to do my best tonight and be good,” he said with a mockingly playful tone. “Though I’m not sure I can be good.”

The comment sent a strange flutter through her stomach, and she couldn’t help but blush again.

“Well, burgundy and dark cream colors suit you,” she said quickly, trying to deflect the tension that was beginning to build between them.

“And black fits you perfectly,” he replied smoothly, as his eyes scanned her slowly, taking in every detail of her appearance.

Her breath caught slightly, a wave of warmth spreading through her chest as she felt butterflies stir in her stomach at his words. It was the way he said it, as though the words held more weight than she could easily decipher, that made her heart race just a little faster.

"Shall we order? Excuse me!" Hermione called for the host nervously, her voice slightly shaky as she tried to regain her composure.

Malfoy’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he watched her. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving her as she fidgeted with the edge of her napkin, avoiding his stare.

Marco appeared almost immediately, a soft swish of his robes as he approached the table. "Yes, Miss Granger? Mr. Malfoy?" he asked politely, his hands folded neatly in front of him.

Malfoy, however, made no move to look at the menu. "The usual," he said simply.

Hermione looked at the menu briefly, still flustered, and then back at Marco. "The same as he," she said

Marco nodded and bowed respectfully. "Very well. I’ll have your orders ready shortly."

Hermione straightened in her seat, her fingers grazing the stem of her wineglass as she gathered her thoughts. She could feel the weight of Malfoy’s gaze, steady and unwavering, but there was a softness to it that unsettled her—not because it was unwelcome, but because it was unfamiliar.

“Why tonight?” she asked after a moment, tinged with genuine curiosity.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly, considering her question. His fingers traced the edge of his glass, the movement slow and deliberate. 

“Why not?” he countered with a faint smirk. “We had a proper conversation yesterday, and you said you wanted to talk more. So here we are.”

Hermione blinked, caught off guard by his straightforwardness. She felt a faint blush creeping up her cheeks but quickly brushed it aside.

His smirk softened into something less guarded and his silver eyes catched the warm glow of the room’s light. For a moment, she found herself captivated by them, their color unlike anything she’d ever really noticed before. They weren’t just silver—they were flecked with hints of stormy grey, framed by lashes that softened their intensity. 

Beautiful , she thought fleetingly, before shaking the idea away. But the realization lingered, as undeniable as the man himself.

“I’d like to think this counts.” He continued. “Though, I admit, I didn’t expect you to agree to meet me.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t expect you to ask.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of their surroundings fading into the background. Finally, Hermione leaned forward slightly and her expression turned serious. “Malfoy… I need to ask. Azkaban…”

Malfoy’s demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly. The playful glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something heavier—something raw. His hand tightened briefly around his glass before he let out a slow breath. “What about it?”

His jaw tightened and his hand paused mid-movement around his glass. For a moment, he didn’t reply and he dropped his eyes to the table. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost hoarse. “It’s exactly what you’d imagine, Granger. Cold… bone-deep cold that doesn’t just seep into your skin but seems to crawl inside you, like it’s trying to hollow you out.” He hesitated, the flicker of something raw passing through his expression.

“Empty,” he continued in a quieter tone now. “So empty that you start forgetting what it feels like to be… anything. But it’s loud, too. Loud in the way silence can be. Just… unraveling.”

He finally met her gaze and his silver eyes shadowed, haunted. “It’s the kind of place that strips you bare, makes you face everything you’ve ever done—no lies, no excuses, no escape.”

Hermione’s throat tightened as she watched him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said as his lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “It was deserved.”

Hermione’s heart ached at his words, but she stayed quiet, giving him space to continue if he chose to.

He didn’t. Instead, he shrugged, a bitter smile ghosting his lips. “It’s not a place anyone comes out of whole. But you already know that, don’t you? You’ve read the reports. You testified.”

“As I said yesterday, I testified because I believed you deserved a second chance,” she said firmly.

He looked at her then, his expression unreadable, but his eyes spoke volumes—tired, remorseful, and tinged with gratitude he seemed hesitant to voice.

“I know,” he said finally. “And for what it’s worth… thank you. I don’t think I ever did say it. Not that I deserve it though.”

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but his gaze shifted, and she followed it to the faint black ink peeking from the collar of his sweater.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” she began, hesitating as she studied him. “Your tattoos. I noticed you have several.”

Draco’s lips curled into a small, guarded smile, though she didn’t miss the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. “Perceptive as always, Granger.”

“What do they mean?”

He leaned back slightly, the shadows playing across his face as he considered her question. “They serve as a reminder,” he said in a quiet voice.

Hermione frowned. “What do you mean?”

“A reminder of who I am,” he replied. He reached for his wineglass, taking a sip before adding quietly, “A reminder of what I’ve done.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Hermione wanted to press him for more, but the look in his eyes stopped her. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t tell her—it was that he couldn’t. Not yet.

She settled back in her chair, her gaze lingering on him. “And what are you now?” she asked softly.

His lips twitched into that faint, self-deprecating smile. “That,” he said, lifting his glass in a mock toast, “is a question I’m still trying to answer.”

The brunette watched him feeling her thoughts like a storm of questions she wasn’t sure she had the right to ask. 

For a moment, silence settled between them. Then, unexpectedly, Draco leaned forward slightly and his sharp gaze locked onto hers. “Now tell me, Granger,” he said in a softer voice but no less intense, “who are you?”

Hermione blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” she asked with caution.

He tilted his head, studying her as though she were a particularly intricate puzzle. “You’re not the same girl I used to know. Ten years ago, you were all rules and certainty. Now…” He gestured vaguely with his hand. “There’s something different. I see it in your eyes.”

She hesitated, feeling her pulse quickening. “People change,” she said, deflecting, though her voice wavered slightly.

“They do,” he agreed with an unreadable expression. “But the question is—what did you change into? Or maybe… who did you have to become?”

Her breath hitched at the bluntness of his words, she could feel the weight of his self-loathing tangible. “Malfoy…” she began, but he shook his head slightly and a humorless smile tugged at his lips.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” he pressed, his tone calm yet edged with vulnerability. “Back then, I wasn’t worth your time—or anyone’s, really. But here you are, sitting across from me, giving me… what? A second chance? Or is it just curiosity?”

Hermione straightened in her seat.

“I’m here because people deserve a chance to prove they’ve changed. You’ve changed. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that.”

Malfoy’s eyes softened. “You’ve always cared too much about people, haven’t you?” he murmured, though there was no malice in his tone.

“Maybe,” Hermione replied, her lips curving into a small, tentative smile. “But I think it’s working out so far.”

The bottle of wine between them seemed endless, their glasses never staying empty for long. With each sip, the liquid's warmth spread through Hermione’s veins, loosening the tension in her shoulders and softening the sharp edges of her thoughts. The effect was familiar—she’d felt it the night before as well—but tonight, it was different. It wasn’t the wine alone that made her feel at ease; it was the quiet presence of the man across from her.

Just as the conversation lulled into another comfortable silence, the host arrived, carrying two plates of food. The aroma of freshly cooked steak filled the air, accompanied by tender potatoes and a colorful medley of vegetables. It was simple yet exquisite, and the warm plates were a welcome distraction from the intensity of their conversation.

They spoke, yes, but not constantly. There were silences—more than the night before—but she didn’t mind. In fact, she found comfort in the lulls between their words. The pauses were not awkward but deliberate, like a shared understanding. As she looked across the table at Draco, she thought about a line she had once heard in a Muggle film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind : “Constantly talking isn’t necessarily communicating.” It felt true, here, in this space between them, where words weren’t needed to fill every second. Just being present was enough.

And in that moment, the truth of it struck her. Silence sometimes spoke louder than words, carried more weight than a conversation. It wasn’t about filling the space; it was about sharing the space. That’s what they were doing now—sitting across from each other, wineglasses in hand, exchanging occasional words but mostly allowing the quiet to stretch between them, binding them in a way neither of them could explain.

The candlelight flickered, its glow reflecting in their glasses and casting soft shadows across the table. She watched as the blond poured another measure of wine, his movements unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world. He handed her the refilled glass without a word, their fingers brushing briefly and he looked at her in the eyes, making her blush.

Her thoughts felt lighter and her mind hazy but clear in the ways that mattered. The silence felt like a conversation in itself, as though they were saying, I’m here. You’re here. And for now, that’s enough. It wasn’t forced or filled with the need to impress. It was two people who had once been enemies, now sharing a bottle of wine and the quiet understanding that sometimes, being present was the best gift they could give each other.

When she glanced up, she found Draco looking at her—not with expectation or judgment, but with something softer, something unspoken. She gave him a small smile, and though he didn’t smile back, the slight relaxation of his features told her he had understood. 

But as the evening wore on, she couldn’t help but notice something else. It was in the way Malfoy’s smile never quite reached his eyes, in the way his gaze lingered on the table when he thought she wasn’t looking. There was a weight to him, a heaviness he carried, and she could tell it stemmed from a profound loneliness, an alienation that was understandable after everything he’d been through.

He shared, cautiously but genuinely, about how he avoided people these days. “I prefer the quiet,” he admitted in a low voice. “The solitude of my home, or sometimes I go to this lake by the forest. You can hear the wind in the trees, the water lapping against the shore… It’s better company than most people.”

Hermione listened, her heart aching at his words. It didn’t seem like he had friends—not real ones, anyway. And she realized that he had no one he could truly confide in, no one to help shoulder the burden he carried. The sadness in him was palpable, a deep, unrelenting sorrow that hung over him like a shadow.

“You don’t talk to anyone?” she asked softly, hesitant to pry but unable to stop herself.

He shook his head, a faint, humorless smile crossing his lips. “Not really. It’s easier this way. People… they tend to expect things. Judge things. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.”

Hermione met his gaze. 

“You’re talking to me now.” She paused, letting her words settle in the air between them. “I’m here.”

He took another sip of wine, letting the glass settle in his hand as he glanced at her. “You know,” he began in a quieter voice now, “you’re the first person who’s asked me anything in years. Most people... they wouldn’t care. Or they’d just want to fill the silence with their own noise.”

His silver eyes met hers, and this time, his gaze held her in a way that made her breath catch. There was a flicker of something softer there, something that made her heart beat just a little faster. The intensity of his stare seemed to see through her, unraveling her in a way she hadn’t expected. She tried to look away, but it was impossible to pull her eyes from his. She felt as if she were caught in the weight of his silence, and yet, in that moment, it didn’t feel suffocating—just raw, like they were standing on the edge of something neither of them fully understood.

“But you...” he continued in a softer voice now, almost as if he were confiding in her. “You’re different.” He let out a breath, almost a quiet laugh, but it was tinged with something heavy. “Maybe it’s because you’re not expecting anything. Maybe it’s because you’ve seen enough to know what really matters, even if you don’t say it.”

There was a weight to his words, like he was saying more than he intended, but he didn’t press further. He simply let the moment hang there, the silence between them feeling a little less heavy than before.

He didn’t look away, his gaze intense, as if searching for answers in her eyes. Then, his voice lowered, taking on a more serious tone. “I noticed it even back at the trial, when you testified. Hell, maybe even before that. But I didn’t want to admit it. And to be honest, it scared me a bit—realizing I’d noticed those things about you back in Hogwarts.”

"I was worried about you, you know? When we were in sixth year." She said hesitantly, and her eyes dropped for a moment before lifting again to meet his. "I knew something was different about you. You looked troubled, and I tried telling Harry and Ron, but... they wouldn’t listen. And I didn’t dare to approach you… I regret it now. I could’ve done something."

Malfoy’s expression flickered and something unreadable passed through his silver eyes. He leaned back slightly, as if weighing her words. For a brief moment, silence hung between them, charged with unspoken memories.

Finally, he broke the tension with a laugh, though it was laced with a bitter edge. "I probably wouldn't have let you, either way."

Hermione felt a knot tighten in her stomach. His words stung more than she expected, but she couldn’t quite place why. There was something almost... resigned in his tone. She bit her lip, unsure of how to respond.

His smirk faltered slightly as he studied her in a quieter voice now. 

"I wasn’t exactly... easy to approach back then, was I? I built walls. I pushed everyone away.”

"But... there's something I don't regret." She said with hesitation, taking a steadying breath and tracing her fingers on the rim of her wine glass.

Draco’s brow furrowed slightly, intrigued, as he leaned forward with his silver eyes fixed on her. "What?" he asked, as if he wasn’t entirely ready for her answer.

Hermione’s lips quirked, then a small, almost imperceptible smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She met his gaze, unwavering. "Stumbling upon you at the pub yesterday."

The room seemed to grow quieter, the air between them thick with something unspoken. Malfoy took a moment with his expression unreadable, before he let out a soft chuckle. There was no malice in it, just a hint of something warmer than usual.

"Really?" he asked, raised an eyebrow, though there was no mockery in his tone. It was genuine, something different from the teasing she’d come to expect from him. "Well, I suppose I can’t say I regret it either."

He leaned back in his chair with a smile lingering on his lips, though it was softer than it had been before. His gaze softened just a fraction, but the tension remained between them felt thick and palpable.

Hermione’s lips quirked again, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she met his gaze, unwavering. She stood from her seat with steady movements yet slightly uncoordinated from the alcohol. Malfoy’s brows furrowed in surprise as she moved toward him, her steps purposeful, yet with a lightness to them that caught him off guard.

She could feel her heart beat a little faster as she stood there, so close to him. She didn’t have a plan for this, not really. But she was tired of the distance, of the old animosities, of the past that clung to them both like a shadow.

"Let’s start over," she said softly despite the thudding in her chest.

He watched her closely and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his expression as she stopped right in front of him, standing close enough that he could feel the subtle warmth radiating from her. The air between them felt charged, thick with something unsaid, something delicate.

"Granger. Hermione Granger," she said, holding out her hand to him, mirroring the way Draco had introduced himself to Harry all those years ago, but this time, it was her turn.

There was no mockery in her voice, no edge, just something genuine, like the weight of everything between them had led to this simple but significant moment. She didn’t wait for him to make the first move. This time, she was the one extending the olive branch.

Malfoy's eyes flickered between her hand and her face, surprise evident in his features. The memories of their past, of Hogwarts and everything that had come before, seemed to rise to the surface all at once. His chest tightened slightly, but this time, the tension felt different—more like a door opening, however cautiously.

After a beat, he reached out and his fingers brushed against hers. It was a simple gesture, but one that carried more weight than either of them had anticipated. As he gripped her hand firmly, his voice was quieter than usual, but there was a depth to it that made her heart skip.

“Malfoy,” he said softly as his eyes locked onto hers. “Draco Malfoy.”

The words were so familiar, so reminiscent of their past, but they also carried a new meaning now. Something unspoken passed between them in that moment, and despite everything, it felt like a beginning.

“Now come with me,” she said. “There’s something we need to do. Don’t let go of my hand.”

Draco’s brow furrowed in confusion, but without thinking, he followed her with his fingers still wrapped around hers. The gesture was instinctive, almost as if he were anchoring himself to her in a way he couldn't fully explain. They apparated, and when they landed, he found himself standing before an abandoned house, isolated and forgotten. It looked as though it had been untouched by time, with ivy creeping up its crumbling walls and windows that had long lost their glass.

Hermione smiled softly. 

“This is one of my favorite spots to vent,” she said. “Come on.”

She tugged at his hand, pulling him forward without hesitation. Malfoy allowed himself to be led. He couldn’t quite figure it out, this pull he felt toward her, this quiet certainty that even though he didn't know what was coming, it was exactly where he needed to be. His grip tightened slightly, grounding him, but he followed her into the house.

Inside, the air was heavy with dust and the scent of long-abandoned memories. The brunette did a quick charm and he could now see faint beams of light filtered through the cracks in the walls, illuminating the space with a dim, melancholic glow. The place felt both eerie and familiar, as though it had witnessed countless stories—some forgotten, some never told. Hermione moved effortlessly through the space, unbothered by the disrepair, until she stopped in the center of the room.

With a flick of her wrist, a bat appeared in her hand, its worn handle smooth from years of use. She handed it to Malfoy and her eyes met with a quiet urgency.

“Here,” she said in a soft but firm voice. “Your turn.”

He blinked, taking the bat as if it weighed more than it should. His confusion was palpable. "What’s this about?" he asked in a low voice, but there was no edge to it, no sarcasm. It was genuine confusion.

Hermione’s gaze softened and her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. 

“Let it all out. It’s your turn.”

He didn’t understand. But she was right, wasn’t she? There was something in him, something gnawing at him, that begged for release. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake off the thoughts that clouded his mind. 

“Break the window,” she instructed in a steady voice.

“But—” he started, but she cut him off before he could finish.

“Just do it,” she said, her tone gentle but unyielding. “Trust me.”

For a moment, he stood frozen and the bat in his hands felt heavier by the second. He could feel the weight of the years pressing against his chest, the anger, the bitterness, the hurt, all coiling within him. The whole situation felt foreign. But something in Hermione’s presence—something in her quiet understanding—made him feel like he should do as she said.

He swung the bat and the crack of glass broke through the air. The sound rang in his ears in a violent release, and for the first time in years, he felt something shift within him. The tension, the tightness in his chest—gone, if only for a moment. His breath came out in a ragged exhale as he swung again, and again.

Each strike of the bat against the window was like a release of all the things he had kept buried for so long—things he hadn’t been able to say, things he hadn’t even allowed himself to acknowledge. Anger, regret, frustration—all of it, pouring out in one violent motion. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. His body moved instinctively and his muscles burned as he continued to swing, each impact a small act of liberation.

Hermione stood silently, watching him with an understanding gaze, a softness in her expression that conveyed more than words ever could. She wasn’t judging him, wasn’t expecting anything from him. She simply watched, knowing exactly what this moment was for him. For both of them, perhaps.

Malfoy’s breath became ragged, and his body trembled with the weight of the release, but he didn’t stop. Every swing of the bat felt like it was breaking something within him, something heavy he hadn’t known how to carry. The tension, the anger, the things he had never said, they all poured out with each strike. His muscles burned, sweat dripping down his face, but in the chaos of it, there was a clarity that made everything else fade away.

He didn’t notice the passage of time, too absorbed in the rhythm of destruction. The sound of shattering glass was like music to him now, echoing through the room, through his chest. His arms grew leaden, his breath shallow, but still he kept going, until the air around him seemed to hum with the aftermath of everything he had let go of.

He stopped, finally, panting, the bat still heavy in his hand. The wreckage around him felt symbolic, like a physical manifestation of all the weight he’d carried inside. Broken glass, splintered wood, the remnants of something that had needed to be undone.

And then, as his breath slowed, he turned to Hermione. She had watched him without judgment, without expectation. There was a quiet understanding in her gaze, something steady and constant. It wasn’t just the shattered house that connected them in that moment. It was the shared experience, the unspoken recognition that they both understood what it was like to carry burdens, to hold things inside, and to need a release.

For a moment, there was nothing more between them than the silence, thick with the weight of what had been let go. But in that silence, there was something beautiful. Something delicate. An unspoken bond, woven from the smallest of moments.

There is a word in Korean, In-yeon, that carries with it the weight of countless lifetimes. It speaks of connection—not the grand, sweeping gestures of destiny, but the quiet, intricate threads that bind us to one another in ways we might never fully understand.

In-yeon is not about love alone. It is about every shared moment, every glance, every word that passes between two people. Each interaction, no matter how small, is a thread. And with enough threads, woven over time, a bond begins to form—a tapestry of connection that may stretch across years, or even lifetimes.

Some threads are fleeting, delicate strands that brush against us and drift away. Others are strong, enduring, and impossible to ignore. They pull us together in ways that feel inevitable, as though the universe itself has conspired to make us collide, over and over again.

The beauty of In-yeon lies in its mystery. It doesn’t demand understanding, nor does it promise permanence. It exists simply as a reminder that we are never truly alone in this vast and chaotic world. Even the briefest of encounters leaves an imprint, a mark on the soul, as if to say, You were here. We were here. And it mattered.

Draco and Hermione would not have known the word In-yeon. But somewhere, in the quiet spaces between their thoughts, in the stillness that followed the wreckage of shattered glass, they might have felt its truth. In the unspoken understanding between them, in the shared silence, there was something that transcended mere coincidence. Something that spoke of a connection not defined by the past, but by the present—the threads that had woven their paths together, thread by thread.

The idea that every moment, every glance, every shared breath, carries with it the weight of possibility—whether we recognize it or not. Perhaps it was not love they shared yet, but in that moment, amidst the quiet aftermath, there was the unmistakable sense of a connection that had always been there, subtle but undeniable. A bond formed not through grand gestures, but through the smallest of actions—the weight of their presence, the shared quiet, the shared understanding.

The universe had conspired in its own way, bringing them to this point. And though they might not fully understand it yet, they both felt the pull of it—of the threads that had tied their fates together, gently, over time.

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Author Notes:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is long, I know, but I hope I made your time worthwile. This is a slow burn but don't worry, it will turn into something deeper with each chapter. Any comments are more than welcome ♥ In-yeon concept idea from Past Lives (2023), A24, directed by Celine Song. I highly recommend it. Beautiful, sad, filled with love movie.

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CHAPTER 1:

READ AND SUPPORT THE STORY IN AO3:

[thistransient]

Hello! I love your photos ^^ Any tips for someone visiting Taiwan (first time travelling in East Asia) in late October/early November? I was inspired by your hiking photos the other day, I love hiking but I'm a newbie... Thank you, have a lovely weekend!

Thank you, hello to you as well! Re: hiking, the popular trails around Taipei at least are pretty clear, well-maintained, and accessible by public transport, there are a lot of beautiful views that don't require too much exertion (in November if you're lucky it might even be cool enough not to sweat half to death!). Definitely try to go to Yangmingshan, as it should be silver grass season around then, very scenic.

I'm not sure if where you're coming from is more or less a) developed and b) tropical than Taiwan, and whether you plan on renting a vehicle or not, but some general advice:

If these are not the kind of tips you were thinking of and you want to divulge more specific interests, I can give more fine-tuned recs! Hmm maybe I should just make a list of underrated places around Taipei...

- the Easycard (悠游卡) is really useful, you can get it at any convenience store (last I know it was 100元) and use it in all cities for the bus/metro/non-reserved trains/bike rental/payment at convenience stores + some other shops. A lot of establishments are still cash-only though, so it's good to have enough of that (Cathay United ATMs don't seem to charge fees)

- I always bring an umbrella, if it's not raining then it's too sunny, and even if it's perfect weather you can shake it angrily at scooters that almost run you over (kidding...kinda...)

- Be very careful crossing the road, especially in the crosswalk when you have right of way, people love to run red lights, and bus drivers hitting people keeps making the news

- Personally I love the Youbike system (I think you need to register your Easycard to a phone number but the app makes it pretty easy), Taipei has a great bike trail system along the riversides (or you can just walk if you're not a bike person), I've also used them in Kaohsiung and Tainan

- It's a subject of debate as to whether you should drink the tap water, in theory it should be fine but most people boil or filter it just in case (or for flavour I guess?). Sometimes if I'm lazy and thirsty I just drink it, tastes tolerable and nothing averse has happened yet! Most metro stations have a free water bottle refill station though, I see them in parks sometimes too.

- Whether or not you can flush toilet paper is also up for debate. Often there will be a sign (with varying degrees of humour and/or threats) somewhere indicating where it should or should not go, as the pipes in some old buildings cannot handle it, but newer ones can.

- You can get into the metro stations and use the bathroom for free if you ask the station agent for a token (which is good for 10 minutes or so), this also works if you come out the wrong exit and want to go back through. Most bigger parks also have bathroom facilities, which are generally clean.

- My go-to 24-hour restaurants are Sukiya (すき家) and Yon Ho (永和豆漿), 7-11 is also a place of many wonders (print/scan/copy/pick up train tickets/receive mail/hang out and have a drink, the onigiri are a great snack and the pre-made meals are actually not bad)

[uh-niran-really]

A friend requested that I write something for Vampire Symmetra and Cleric Lifeweaver so I wrote this for them! I enjoyed it so much I wanted to share it here! Enjoy!

Vampire Sym x Cleric Weaver

It had been months since his dearest friend had received the bite. Satya came to him in agony one night begging for help. He tried everything he could think off but in the end it was futile. She turned right in front of his eyes, her skin turning ashen, eyes shifting from the warm brown he loved so much to a deep red. She screamed in pain as he watched, there was nothing he could do. Her front teeth fell from her mouth, pointed fangs replacing them instantly. Niran watched in horror as her heart stopped beating, yet she stood, very much undead.

“Thirsty..” She had whispered. “So thirsty!”

Niran offered her some water, but she swot it away, instead grabbing his wrist to bite it. However, something inside her stopped her from doing so. She looked to her terrified best friend and dropped his wrist, opting to jump out of the window instead and run deep into the night.

She returned serval hours later covered in blood that wasn’t her own, tears in her eyes. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, but she was so thirsty, she felt like she was dying. Niran took her in his arms, holding her tight as she cried. He promised her he would do everything he could to rescue her from this.

Since then Niran started working around the clock to find a cure, everything coming up too short. She mostly stayed put with him, wandering off occasionally. She had tried animal blood but found it had a weird taste, Niran wasn’t fond of animals being killed either so instead he opted to give her his own blood. Being a cleric he had access to draw his blood into vials, which he gave to her when she was in need of feeding. She had become more affectionate with him lately, something he never complained about but he did miss the old her. She was different now, but he wouldn’t stop until he found a cure.

“Niran.. Thirsty!”

“You ran out of vials?” He turned to face her, her lust for blood becoming more apparent.

“Thirsty! I’m so thirsty! Niran!!”

“Okay okay, settle down dear. I’ll draw some more.”

He set about prepping his wrist by cleaning it and tapping the vein so the needle could go right in, before setting up his tools. She watched eager to feast, the thirst becoming too much.

“THIRSTY!”

“Satya, please be patient.” He smiled at her, eyes pleading for her to remain calm. He knew she couldn’t help it, but he also needed calm to focus. She sat on the table watching him, practically licking her lips.

“Why can’t I take it from you?!”

“We don’t know what that will do my love.”

“I won’t turn you Niran! I’m so thirsty!”

“I know, just give me a second to find a vial. I know I have more.”

He searched through draws and selves for a clean vial for his blood to go in, but found nothing. He considered slashing his wrist and have his blood drip into a cup for her to drink but she was already so crazed for blood, she might attack him for it.

“NIRAN!!” Her eyes were bloodshot and she was heightened by blood lust. “I NEED IT!!”

Niran knew what we happen if she didn’t get it. She’d leave and attack a poor defenceless human or worse, she’d attack an armed one, who might well kill her. A thought he couldn’t bear to imagine. With time running out and no vials in sight he did what any sane man would do and offered her his wrist.

“Take it.”

“Niran..”

“Satya, take it. I trust you. If you say you won’t turn me, then I trust you.” He smiled, gritting his teeth, waiting for the bite.

With little to no hesitation she grabbed his wrist and sunk her teeth into his flesh. Niran yelped in pain but the pain quickly subsided, turning into a fuzzy feeling, akin to pleasure. He deduced that Vampires must have an aphrodisiac effect when feasting, probably to stop their meal screaming in pain and keep the blood pumping. He watched as she gorged herself on his blood, moaning as she took it. She always enjoyed the taste of his blood, she said it tasted floral and sweet. She seemed to be enjoying it fresh from his skin however and Niran worried she wouldn’t stop until she drained him dry, but to his surprise she let go wiping the blood from her lips, sighing and feeling full.

“Better?”

“Yes!”

“Good.” He cleaned and bandaged up his wrist, noting the two pinpoint pricks from her fangs. It would surely scar but he didn’t mind. She was safe and that’s all he cared about.

Once he was done tending to his wound she hugged him, nuzzling her face into his neck and sitting on his lap. She was so affectionate after feasting, he found it adorable. He didn’t mind holding her for a while, she was practically weightless now anyway. Slowly he pet her long satin hair as she squeaked in delight, appreciating him for all he did for her.

“I love you Niran.” She pulled away from nuzzling his neck, opting to stare into his golden eyes.

“That’s new. Usually you aren’t so obvious with your feelings. What changed?”

She shook her head at him smiling just enough to show vulnerability. Lately she has come to appreciate all Niran did for her during this time. He was always there for her when she was a human, but lately she came to realise that Niran cared for her enough to keep her safe and from harm. He risked a lot by doing so. She loved him for it.

“Nothing. I just noticed how much you want to keep me safe.”

“Of course! You’re my dearest friend. I adore you.”

“Friend..” She was a little disappointed by his choice of words. She was falling for him and now she has taken his blood directly, she was practically smitten. She hadn’t been a vampire very long, but she had determined that taking blood without killing was one of the most intimate things she could do. She wanted to keep him safe, to feed on him more. To have him like a sort of pet. Maybe a partner. It had been so long since she thought like a human, her memory blurred and forgetful of what it was like before, but being with Niran helped.

“Is that not what this is? Or am I no good to you unless you’re taking my blood, Satya?” He chuckled, his laugh warm like the sun she could no longer see. It didn’t matter because Niran was her light now, that’s what his name meant anyway, so fitting.

“Not food. But mine.”

“I’m not going anywhere silly girl.” He pet her head again and she laid her chin on his shoulder, almost purring at the sensation. It was so blissful she could fall asleep.

“I love you Niran.” She said again, her heart almost feeling something. She swore it could beat.

“And I love you Satya.” He confessed, holding her in his arms as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

[zerowaterpure]

Zero Water Filter: Pure Water for Healthier Living

In today’s world, clean drinking water is no longer just a necessity; it’s a luxury in many places. With rising concerns over water contamination, investing in a reliable drinking water filter for your home is one of the smartest decisions you can make. Among the numerous options available, the Zero Water Filter stands out as a top choice, ensuring that your family has access to safe and pure water.

What is a Zero Water Filter?

The Zero Water Filter is a revolutionary product designed to deliver the purest drinking water by removing virtually all dissolved solids (TDS). It uses advanced filtration technology to ensure that your water is free from impurities, chemicals, and contaminants. Whether you're at home or traveling, the Zero Water Filter ensures that every sip of water is clean and safe.

Why Choose Zero Water Filters?

When it comes to water filters, not all products are created equal. The Zero Water Filter in Netherlands is specifically engineered to outperform standard filters by providing an impressive five-stage filtration system. Here’s why it’s worth considering:

Superior Filtration TechnologyUnlike conventional water filters, the Zero Water Filter uses a five-stage ion-exchange process that removes 99.6% of all dissolved solids. This ensures that your drinking water is not only clean but also tastes great.

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Convenient DesignZero Water offers a range of products, from pitchers and dispensers to portable filters, making it easy to find a model that suits your needs. Whether you need a drinking water filter for home or something for on-the-go, Zero Water has you covered.

Zero Water Filter Price: Is It Worth It?

One of the key questions consumers ask is, “What is the Zero Water Filter price, and is it worth the investment?” The price of a Zero Water Filter varies depending on the model and size. While it may be slightly higher than traditional water filters, the exceptional filtration performance and long-term benefits make it a worthwhile investment. With Zero Water, you’re not just buying a filter—you’re investing in your health and peace of mind.

For example, Zero Water pitchers start at around €30-€40, with replacement filters available at affordable prices. Considering the quality and effectiveness of the product, it offers excellent value for money.

Water Filter Options in the Netherlands

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The Zero Water Filter is an excellent choice for Dutch households, thanks to its proven ability to remove both visible and invisible contaminants. Its compact design and ease of use make it a popular option for families across the country.

Benefits of a Drinking Water Filter for Home

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Conclusion: Choose Zero Water for Pure Drinking Water

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[beautifulhigh]

The update for @oldfarmwitch if no one else...

Last time on "Jen's grand plans"...

Clean kitchen, all going well. Happy Jen. (This will not last.)

Order the new tap I want for my kitchen sink because the current one is leaking at every joint and I think in places where there isn't one...

Discover we can't move the fridge on the wheels due to them being offset so the wheel braces are sitting like / \. In the process of discovering this both me AND my dad received injuries

Couldn't find the water stopcock. Took apart cupboards, moved the washing machine (more on that in a bit), found it behind a fucking panel

Discovered that one of the cupboards is rotting away due to ill fitting pipes

Struggled to move the washing machine, only for Jen to later realise that they forgot to unplug the fucking thing which was why it was a chore. Therefore the plug had been ripped out of the socket, but not before the socket had been ripped out of the back of the cupboard it was (barely) attached to.

Failed to have any food in the evening because I was just Done™ with the whole thing and went to bed.

This morning on "Jen's LOLZ life":

Woke up, ankle still hurts. Just great. I don't want to move so I stay in bed as long as possible

Get up just in time for Dad coming over. He has brought EVERY tool he has and most of his plumbing kit.

His plan: sort out the cupboard and then tackle the sink and its pipes.

Cupboard panel comes apart in Dad's hands. Whoops. We manage to get the new feet in place and get it level. It was a great time to discover it's also holding up the end of the unit so that will need resealing on the tiles.

Washing machine goes back into its hole.

Look to the pipework. Dad has the wrong sized... things. They're elbow shaped so I shall call them Elbow Things. Anyway, the Elbow Things are 10mm, we need 15mm. Look online but can't get anything this side of the holiday weekend.

Go off to this little plumbing shop Dad knows. They don't have any either. Go to B&Q to have a look at what they have (we'd checked their site but Dad wanted to check out what I shall call Flexi Pipes). While there we talk about the tap that's coming and I find a picture online where a reviewer took a photo of what came in the box.

I suddenly love unboxing videos because thank you.

Dad realises that we can get away without the Elbow Things because the tap is coming with its own Flexi Pipes and so we can use Straight Things instead. He knows he has one, so we pick up another in B&Q.

At checkout, Dad realises his wallet is in the car. (No, really.). That's fine, I'm a modern girl, I have a pay app on my phone. Which doesn't want to connect to the machine. Takes three attempts to pay for the £2.50 Straight Thing.

Get home, Dad is now under the sink. Plan: heat up the pipes to break the seal, put in the Straight Things, wait for the tap to be delievered.

Universe: LOLZ

The water is turned off, all pipes are drained.

Washing machine comes out, that's drained too.

The sink pipework is VERY tight and crammed in together so we have to take the washing machine back out so he can get that pipework out of the way.

One pipe is fine, the other one has Separation Anxiety and will not let go.

Washing maching goes back in to give more working space in the kitchen as when it's out it cuts off access to the other side of the room (think galley style kitchen, long and somewhat narrow).

I realise I haven't eaten all day. I've had a caffeine drink and I've had two lots of paracetamol (because ankle). Just Eat is now becoming my most-used app. Sorry to my bank account and to my trainer.

Dad is swearing up a storm. He used to be a sailor. People forget that. The second pipe will not move and he's burned the back of the cupboard and he almost melted the U bend thingy that comes down from the sink. He takes the U bend thingy off, takes off the drawers and facias of the cover, and gets in there with some Proper Tools. The pipe is cut - no conscious uncoupling here.

Nice man arrives with my lunch.

Dad imparts instructions for how to get the sink out of the unit. The waching machine comes back out again because we need to get at the clips under the sink.

Dad leaves because it's his brother-in-law's birthday. I sit down and INHALE my Greggs sandwich. I also bought treats. Again, sorry to my trainer. Sent @wtfuckevenknows a few voice notes with a short summary of what has happened before this point.

The water is back on but my kitchen sink is no longer plumbed in. Neither is the washing machine. I use the bath tap to get a bucket of hot water and put soap in so I can finish cleaning the oven and the racks which have been marinading in the cleaning stuff overnight.

The rack bag has leaked and some of the fluid soaked into and stained the wooden shelf I put it on.

I manage to mostly dismantle the over door to properly clean it, but the latches for the door to come off will not move. I do the best I can.

I have to go back upstairs to refill the bucket and I'm doing the cleaning outside on my wooden decking which gets slippery when wet.

My ankle still hurts and yells at me when I slip a little. This is also the ankle I have broken twice, although I didn't know I'd broken it twice until I broke it for what I thought was the first time and then ortho then showed me on the X-Ray where the old break was and how the new break was actually just me re-breaking it although not as badly. That was an interesting moment a decade ago.

Anway. Ankle is not broken but it's not happy.

Oven is now cleaned although I have the bowl of the goop that I scraped out of the bottom of the oven to dispose of. It needs to be diluted with a lot of soapy water and that's another trip up the stairs.

I use the bucket I have to dispose of the fluid in the cleaning bag and go to pour it in the outside drain, only to find out that's blocked when it all overspills.

I don't want to do this again with the stuff from the oven.

I also bought more treats from Greggs (very, very sorry, trainer) and I inhale two caramel shortbreads while I load up Tumblr and see that @oldfarmwitch is wondering how my day is going.

I sit down with my laptop and I type what is absolutely going to be tagged with "long post" because I can't even see the top of THIS bullet point list.

So I now need to put the over back together, then I need to get the sink out of the unit. That involves:

Cutting the current sealant

Removing the remaining clips

Lifting it out of the hole

Cleaning down the sink and the worksurface with remover which then has its own, bespoke clean up process which will allow further sealant to be applied. If I do not clean this up properly then no future sealant will, well, seal.

Removing the tap from the sink and waiting for the new one to arrive. Which, given the family's Easter plans, will be Monday morning when Dad has a "bit of spare time".

I still need to prime and paint the walls. The masking tape I put up yesterday isn't sticking properly to some of the window facias and is falling away already so that will be fun

There is more of my kitchen in the living room and more to come yet. Because I figured the Universe owed me a break I put £10 on the EuroMillions last night.

I won £6.20.

So that's where I'm at. New tag for these posts because yeah.

[the-fiction-witch]

The Queen of Thorns

Media IRL X DND/ Fantasy

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple None

Rating Flirty Ish?

I arrived at the local Inn, an old tattered place with the usual booths and tables, but there were very few travellers. The fire slowly dying down, a lute hovering in the corner playing itself a tune. I set my things down by the door, and I sat at the bar tapping a coin on the bar between my fingers. The barkeep an aged Elf woman with a braid of neon blue hair and a sharp ear full of gold earrings came over in a typical tavern girl dress and apron, She leant on the bar and didn't smile. "Drink?"

"Sure." I nodded, 

She took my copper coin and added it to her purse, "We have honeymead nothing else, that do you?"

"Yeah, that's fine." I nodded, 

She nodded and went to a large barrel behind the bar filling a wooden tankard and she brought it to me, 

"Thanks," I said as I took the tankard and had a sip, it was rich with sweet honey and an aftertaste of elmswick. "It uhh it's a little dead tonight?"

"It's dead every night." She answered as she took her cloth, and began to clean the bar. 

"Ohh... Sorry," 

"What brings you by traveller?"

"Just, travelling around I guess." I answered, "Like any traveller looking for gold, silver, relics, or anything else worth looking over." 

"Well you won't find much of anything around here, this is the edge of the map as it were." She said, 

"Ohh, Nothing?"

"Nothing. You're better off just turning around and heading back to wherever you came from." 

"I take it you don't get many visitors here?"

"No. Not really."

"You sure there's nothing I couldn't do while I'm in town?"

"Nope." She said, 

"Alright, but I'm too tired to head back tonight anywhere I can get a bed for the night?"

"We have rooms here, Two silvers a night. You do pay I take your stuff." 

"Fair enough," I nodded, I reached for my bag and handed over two silver coins. 

She took them and added them to her purse, She then went to the back room and came back with a key, "Room three, You break it you pay for it."

"No problem." I nodded, "I saw the hot springs out the back?"

"A gold a day for access."

"Alright," I sighed, I grabbed a gold coin I was mad about it but I did really fancy a soak so I handed it over, and she added it to her purse. 

"I wish I didn't have to explain it but don't make a mess in them."

"A mess?"

"Don't bloody spunk yourself in them."  

"Ohh! Understood." I nodded, "That's something you have to explain?"

"We get a lot of nightlings pass through here."

"Ohh fair enough." I nodded, I sipped my drink to avoid the awkwardness, 

"You need a bed warmer? there's me, Ali she's a gosling, Jace he's human, and Mie is a shifter she'll can do anything you want, it all depends on what you're into." She explained, "Three silvers an hour."

"No, Thank you. I'm okay." I answered, 

"Alright, Yell if you want another drink." She said before heading into the back,

I enjoyed my drink but I didn't fancy another plus I didn't want to bother the girl again, So I left my tankard and a tip, and I took my key and headed up the stairs until I found room three. So I unlocked it and headed inside.

The room wasn't much, just a toilet, shower, sink, bed, desk and little else. So I left my stuff in the room, stripped off wrapped myself in a towel and headed out, I locked the door behind me and headed down to the hot springs I had to use my key to open the door to them. They were very beautiful and tranquil with glowing trees and several hot pools, so I dropped my towel and key before I climbed into the hot pool.

"Ummmmm," I sighed happily just floating in the warm cosy water, as I floated like a little bag in my own little teacup, I had to admit I kinda get what she meant... it is really relaxing in here, and I wouldn't mind getting off. But I didn't wanna get in trouble, so I just soaked up the water and the views of the sweet rolling hills and trees, I did notice a huge castle on the hill, it looked abandoned and overgrown with thorns and roses. After a while, I got my towel and headed back up to my room having a quick shower and I climbed into bed eager to sleep for a while. 

When I woke up many hours had passed, in fact, I overslept. 

"Ughhh... oh god- how long did I sleep?" I complained as I sat up, I quickly got out of bed and got dressed, I quickly grabbed my stuff and headed downstairs, to the main part of the inn seeing the same girl from last night.

"Afternoon, You sleep okay?"

"Yeah it was great, sorry I uhh I've been travelling a while," I answered,

"Fair enough," 

"Can I uhh... Can I ask you something?" I asked as I sat at the bar, 

"sure?"

"The castle on the hill?"

"What about it?"

"What's the story?"

"It used to be the home of the queen of thorns,"

"What happened to her?"

"A sorcerer came to the castle and asked for her most beautiful rose, the queen refused to give the rose and so cast a spell on the castle. For the roses to grow tall and high trapping the queen inside until a thorn pricked her finger, as soon as it did. She would fall into a deep sleep, she's been asleep up there for one hundred years."

"Really? Well, what was the clause in the spell?"

"Only a true-hearted soul that can make it through the thorn woods and kiss the queen will free her from the spell" She explained, "So? What's going on you staying another night or what?"

"No, I'm gonna gonna save the queen." I answered, 

[jonswellandpumpservicesinc]

Looking For Reasons To Hire A Trustworthy Well Drilling Company?

Wells not only give homes access to free, clean water, but they can also supply clean water in the event of a power outage. Drinking well water can also be far healthier than drinking tap water.

Self-drilling a well, however, can be very difficult. It might be more advantageous, practical, and cost-effective to hire an experienced well drilling company to drill your next well.

We’ve outlined the eleven most important reasons why hiring a professional well drilling company is the better option in order for providing cool, clean water to your family.

Expertise: Qualified well drilling companies possess the knowledge and experience necessary to guarantee a safe and efficient drilling process. They have received training in seeing and resolving potential issues before they escalate. Before deciding which business to hire, you can read online reviews to make a more informed decision.

Convenience: If you’re like most Americans, you work more than 40 hours per week. When you account for time at work, your commute, and your daily activities, you might only have a few hours to relax at home. And it is extremely possible that you will need to invest more time or energy in other home remodeling projects. As a result, hiring an expert to perform well drilling services may be the most sensible choice for conscientious homeowners.

Equipment: Specialized equipment and tools required for drilling a well are available to professional well drilling businesses. Drilling equipment, pumps, and water treatment systems are a few examples of this.

Danger: Well drilling could be dangerous. This is especially true if you live in a place where sinkholes are frequent. Therefore, hiring a specialist before starting your drilling activity may be useful.

Since a well drilling specialist is aware of the risks involved in the technique, they can keep both himself and others safe while performing it. It can be challenging to keep animals and young children safe when drilling.

Efficiency: Skilled well drilling companies are capable of doing the job swiftly. They are equipped and knowledgeable enough to finish the task quickly.

Early Well Use: If you hire an expert to drill and assist you with the building, you may be able to use a finished well quickly. It can take weeks or months if you attempt to do it yourself.

This is because you’ll need to examine your yard, decide where to drill, actually drill, and then build the well. That takes a lot of time, and without professional guidance, it might not be worthwhile.

Expense: While hiring a professional well drilling business may first seem more expensive, the cost of doing it yourself could soon rise if you need to buy specialist equipment or run into issues while drilling.

Permitting: Prior to drilling a well, you might need to obtain a permit depending on where you live. Professional well drilling firms are knowledgeable about the permitting procedure and can assist in making sure you have all the required paperwork.

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Quality: Expert well drilling firms take pleasure in their job and work hard to produce outcomes of the highest caliber. You can feel certain that your well will be drilled appropriately and will serve as a dependable source of water for years to come by hiring a professional.

If you are considering drilling your own well, we advise saving time and resources and allowing a professional well drilling company to handle the work.

If you decide to hire a well drilling company, Jon’s Well and Pump Services Inc. is an experienced, knowledgeable well drilling company located in Deltona, Florida. Call them for a quote at 386-801-5334 or contact them.

ORIGINALLY FOUND ON- Source: Jon's Well and Pump Services Inc.(https://www.jonswellandpumpservicesinc.com/11-reasons-to-hire-a-well-drilling-company/)

[thekindlygrammarfairy]

In most fantasy settings, wizards spend inordinate amounts of time studying obscure texts and brewing potions with rare ingredients to get access to just a tiny fraction of a fraction of the magical energy present all around them. It doesn't just resemble science, it is science. The only difference is that our world, to the best of our advanced scientific understanding of it, doesn't have magic, at least, not in the way myths described it.

But, arguably, using a complicated system of lenses to burn arcane patterns into highly-processed sand, rinsing them off with water so clean and pure it'll actually kill you if you drink too much of it, and then pouring molten metal in the gaps left by the lenses, and then stacking several of these together - all to make an automaton too that can't do the kind of work humans are good at, but that can calculate the formulas needed to map the stars, predict the weather, and send data anywhere there is at least one of these devices, often via invisible leylines, that is pretty magical.

The only reason we think of it as mundane is that it is. For a paltry 17 hours of your time (assuming US minimum wage less taxes and a $100 smartphone), you can tap into this network. If alchemy could be done with a high school chemistry set, if seeing the future was something you could learn in three or four days, if a spell to tear walls asunder could be purchased at any general store, these too would be mundane. Mundane is not based on how powerful a technology is, but how surprising. If I saw someone shoot lightning out of their fingertips, I'd be pretty impressed. But someone sending an entire library from one side of the world to another in mere minutes? We've all seen that before, whatever.

Anyway, it turns out that Dungeons and Dragons and the Cyberpunk roleplaying games have pretty similar target numbers - rolling a 10 in DnD is about the same value as a roll of 10 in Cyberpunk. In this essay I will

[wellnesswatercompany1]

Machine Water Filter System For Commercial & Home Use

A clean, safe, and treated freshwater supply is paramount in domestic and industrial applications. Water quality plays a big role in human health and business productivity, whether for drinking, cooking, or industrial processes. As increasing quantities of purified water are demanded, owning a machine water filter system is ideal to guarantee that you always have access to high-quality drinking water.

Wellness Water Company, the leading water filter manufacturer since 1984, provides systems for state-of-the-art water filtration suitable for residential and commercial use.

What is a Machine Water Filter?

A mechanical water filter purifies water and eliminates certain substances unsuitable for consumption and other uses. These systems are manufactured in various types and models and designed for use in specific sectors, from household water purification to large-scale commercial food processing. The ultimate purpose of water filtering equipment is to improve water quality by removing potentially detrimental entities such as bacteria, chlorine, heavy metals, and miscellaneous toxins.

From commercial applications to consumers’ homes, a proper water machine can dramatically enhance water quality, health condition, and lifespan of machines and equipment. Water filtration systems can be a win for businesses in providing more clean water for business operations, and for residents, the result is higher quality water for the house.

Why Invest in a Water Filtering System?

The purchase of a water filtering system guarantees access to safe, clean, and good-tasting water. Below are some of the key benefits of using a machine water filter:

Improved Health: A water filter machine can remove dangerous contaminants (e.g., bacteria, lead, chlorine, and other pollutants) that might have long-term health consequences.

Better Taste and Odor: Filtered water tastes better and is free from unpleasant odors, which are often caused by chlorine or other chemicals.

Protect Appliances: Studies have shown that hard water, mainly water with high mineral content, damages household appliances such as dishwashers, water heaters, and washing machines. A home water machine can also eliminate scaling and enhance the durability of apparatus and systems.

Cost Savings: Installing a water filtering machine at home or business can minimize the use of bottled water, managing long-term costs.

Different Types of Water Filtering Machines

In the market now, there is a large variety of water filter machines for domestic and commercial use. The ideal machine varies from water quality and needs to the amount of water you need. Below are some popular options:

1. Activated Carbon Filters

Activated carbon filters are the most common and least expensive water treatment equipment. These systems remove undesirable tastes, odors, and chemical substances such as chlorine and volatile organic compounds (VOCs) from water.

Benefits: The water is free of chlorine, chemicals, and odors, and it even tastes better.

Ideal for household consumption as it eliminates municipal water containing chlorine or chloramine.

2. Reverse Osmosis Systems

Membrane-based Osmosis systems, also known as semipermeable membranes, are used in filtration to remove dissolved solids, chemicals, and contaminants from water. They are one of the most comprehensive approaches to purifying water.

Benefits: Effective at detoxifying a broad spectrum of contaminants, i.e., lead, fluoride, arsenic, and others.

Best for Commercial and domestic establishments needing high-purity water with specialized purposes, such as drinking and food preparation.

3. Whole Home Water Filtration Systems

A whole-home water filtering system treats all the water entering your home or business and provides clean water at every tap. Such systems generally employ several filtration steps, including carbon and sediment filtration, for full purification.

Benefits: This makes it possible to clean water throughout the house or office and, therefore, chlorinate water used for showers, taps, and appliances.

Best for Homes and offices wanting one package solution to guarantee excellent quality water throughout their buildings.

4. Ultraviolet (UV) Water Purifiers

UV purifiers apply ultraviolet light to clean water so that bacteria, viruses, and other microbes that may be present can be killed. This is a good option for people with well water, which could harbor pathogens.

Benefits: Fast and effective disinfection without chemicals.

Best for Well water systems, domestic and industrial, for which biological contamination is a matter of concern.

5. Water Softeners

Water softeners are built to reduce the water hardness produced by Ca and Mg. They do so by substituting these hard minerals with sodium/potassium ions; thus, the water is soft and gentler on appliances.

Benefits: A scale preventative, soap scum minimizing, and appliance efficiency enhancing.

Best for Regions with hard water, e.g., in houses or offices such as laundries or restaurants with high water consumption.

Choosing the Right Water Machine for Home Use

Certain aspects must be considered when obtaining the water machine for home consumption. If you are trying to find the best water filter for your home, you are in the right place; here is a guide to help you.

Water Quality: You should begin by testing the water quality in your area. Understanding the contaminants in your water will help you choose the right machine water filter.

Water Usage: Consider your family’s size and daily water use. A home with room to grow or a large family will require a system with a larger capacity.

Budget: Water purification machines can be purchased at different prices depending on the type and capacity. Select the one that you can afford, and that offers long-term benefits.

Maintenance: Some water filtering systems need to be maintained from time to time by having their filters changed or cleaned. Opt for a system that fits your lifestyle.

Commercial Water Filtering Machines

The water demand of the business is generally much more significant, and water quality standards may be strict in the water facility sector. A commercial water filter machine has to be efficient, stable, and able to process large quantities of water. Following are some types of water filtering machines suited for commercial use:

Large-scale Reverse Osmosis systems ensure high-quality water for use in the manufacturing, food processing, and beverage industries.

Whole-building filtration systems provide clean water for big commercial buildings, workers, and clients.

UV Disinfection Systems are most significant for industries that need sterile water, such as healthcare facilities, restaurants, and manufacturing plants.

Also Read : – How to Choose the Best Commercial Water Filtration System

Key Features of a High-Quality Water Filtering Machine

When choosing a water purifier machine, pay attention to the following feature that leads to the best performance and lifespan:

Food-grade stainless Steel Tank: This tank offers a sanitary, impermeable, clean surface on which water processing can take place without risk of contamination.

Embedded Silver Particles: These microscopic particles block bacterial growth in the filter, providing cleaner water.

Refiners for Taste and Odor: A device for filtering water that removes chlorine and other contaminants to enhance the taste and odor of drinking water.

Conditioning Technology: Uses uniform-sized beads for higher flow rates, improving efficiency.

Eliminates Hardness: The system diminishes water’s hardness, repressing scale formation in appliances and pipes.

Polishing Silica Gravel: Provides crystal-clear water free from turbidity and impurities.

These features are found in the high-quality water filtering systems from Wellness Water Company, ensuring that you get the best value for your investment.

Why Choose Wellness Water Company for Your Water Filter Needs?

Wellness Water Company has been the preferred provider of residential and commercial water filtration systems for 1984 years. Our machine water filtration systems are intended to deliver the best quality water according to your requirements. We offer:

Custom Solutions: Whether you have an indiscriminate need for the water machine for home use or a professional setting, we are qualified to assist you in finding the relevant solution.

Reliability: Our water filtration systems are engineered for long-term use and provide robust protection against contaminants.

Expert Installation: Our team provides professional installation services, ensuring your system is optimized for optimal performance.

Get Your Water Filter Machine Today

Don’t compromise on the quality of your water. Whatever the scale, for home or business, the best investment is to install a machine water filter system. Contact Wellness Water Company today to learn more about our premium water filtering systems and how they can improve water quality. Experience the difference with clean, safe, and crisp water every day!

Contact us now to find the perfect water filtering machine for your needs!