Dhr - Blog Posts
Some soft and very messy sketches 🌙
Posted a nearly 15k word one-shot today. (Split into three parts). It’s been living in my head for a while and I’m excited to finally have it finished and posted 😌
Summary:
Just as they reached the general store, Draco saw it. A large wanted poster showing his face. Clear as day. He heard an intake of breath from behind him and suddenly, his lungs seemed to cease all normal functions. She would finally know just the sort of man she’d run off with.
To his surprise, Hermione let out a small laugh and leaned forward to whisper, “I think you’ll be fine. They’ve gotten your nose all wrong. It’s much pointier in real life.”
A Dramione story set in a Wild West, Muggle AU. Inspired by Beyonce’s Cowboy Carter album.
This is Draco and Hermione in A Game Of High Stakes by In_Dreams (complimentary.)
The Old Guard (2020)
“Those are rotten for you.”
Draco jumped, startled by Granger’s presence. He hadn’t heard her coming. How alarming. He needed to be switched on at all times.
A beat too late, he replied, “What do you reckon will kill me first? This,” he lifted the cigarette, “or the war?”
“They turn your teeth yellow.”
His grin bore no kindness. “Who am I trying to impress?”
He’d joined The Order three weeks ago, shared this house with her for eight days, and this was the first time she’d approached him to chat. He was in no mood.
She shouldered past him into the house. “Goodnight, Malfoy.”
-
Granger reached for his cigarette, incensed. “Put that out! They’ll see it.”
He stretched his hand beyond her reach. “We’re bait. Our job is to be seen.”
“Not so obviously.” She Accio’d the cigarette and extinguished it in a huff. “It’s like you want us to get killed.”
Why was she here? She was too crucial for this role. Too valuable to have Draco, the team pariah, as her back up. If he screwed up, she could die.
She didn’t, of course, because when the crack of Apparation shattered the silence, they fought fiercely side by side.
-
A stone skittered down the cliff face and Draco glanced up to find Granger approaching. She swung her legs over the ledge, sitting beside him.
“Can I have some of that?” Her knuckles were dirt-stained. Tears shiny on her cheeks.
He passed her the cigarette.
She took a generous drag, handed it back to him, then put her head between her hands and began to sob.
He didn’t know how to comfort her.
What was another casualty during war? But Granger internalized every death as if she’d committed it herself.
He offered her another drag.
She wound her arms around him instead, as if the offering had been an invitation to seek comfort from him, and buried her face in his chest.
He stiffened. Flicked the cigarette over the edge of the cliff. Then, gradually, placed his arm around her.
The sun slipped behind the endless woods and still they sat there.
-
Draco stubbed his cigarette beneath his shoe and lit another, pacing back and forth.
“I should be at the Forest of Dean tonight,” he said the moment Kingsley entered the room.
“You’re needed here,” replied Kingsley without give.
“Granger and I have been partners for weeks—”
“We’ve told you not to get comfortable—”
“That’s utter bollocks!”
“She’ll be fine,” interrupted Ginny. “She’s with Ron.”
Draco blew smoke in her face.
“Prick,” she spat, storming away.
-
“It’s not that deep,” insisted Granger. But her voice told him otherwise.
He sent her up to his room. Furiously nicking Blood-Replenishing potion and bandages from the emergency supply.
He cleaned the wound on her arm and wrapped it meticulously. Fuming when she flinched. He would strangle Kingsley with his bare hands. This was why they couldn’t be apart.
As Granger slept, Draco smoked through a pack, never taking his eyes off her. What if the spell had slashed an artery? What if it had been a different curse?
There was no freedom in war, but nobody would stand between him and this witch ever again.
-
He was sharing a dart with Susan Bones when Granger entered the yard.
Unaware they had company, Bones boldly suggested, “I’m down to fuck, if you are.”
Draco watched Granger’s eyes flick between them. Her mouth flattened, and she left wordlessly.
“I’ve got someone,” he said, watching her shadow retreat. He didn’t yet, but hopefully soon.
-
Granger said, “Will you brush your teeth?” as Draco discarded his cigarette.
He considered saying no, but decided it was in his best interest to listen.
In his very best interest, in fact, when she crawled onto his lap upon his return. Large brown eyes blinking up at him. “Do you want to kiss me?” she asked.
He dipped forward to show her exactly what he’d wanted for weeks, but she pressed her fingers over his lips. “Are you sleeping with her?”
He knew who she meant, but still asked, “Who?”
“Susan.”
“Never. Nobody.” He kissed her fingers.
She replaced them with her mouth.
-
“Where are you going?” he growled, as Granger rolled out of bed. It was still dark.
“I’m being summoned.” She searched blindly for her bra, her knickers.
He checked his wand, finding it unnervingly cold. They were separating them again.
He grabbed her wrist, and she stumbled into his arms. “Draco!”
He kissed her deeply, breathlessly. “Run away with me.”
“But—"
“We’ll still fight,” he added, lighting a smoke. “On our own terms. They’re corrupt, Hermione. We’ll wind up dead with them.”
She hesitated. They had discussed this many times. Going rogue. There was more to be done without pseudo-authorities policing their moves. Plus, they couldn’t be apart anymore without losing their minds.
“On one condition,” she declared, snatching the cigarette from his fingers and flicking it away. “You’ll quit smoking.”
He watched it burn out. Then considered the witch in his bed. Perhaps she didn’t know it yet, but he would do anything for her.
Draco and Hermione were gone before sunrise.
(861 words, photo and prompt on twitter)
Trailblazing & Stargazing - Chapter 37
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53573164/chapters/151563091
As always, I'm late to the party. But anyway, I added chapter 37 and also added the story to the #dramionemonth collection for day 28 - careers free day.
Of Drought and Downpour - Chapter 3 - Harry Payer crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer inspired by the song 'It's Raining Men'
The Troublesome Seven kept living their life. They went to work, met for coffee or drinks, went out clubbing. They had no idea when the rain would start but they were confident that when it did, they would be ready.
Daphne was the first to see the effects of the spell. She was at work, kneeling in front of a low cabinet looking for a jar of dittany leaves. She would normally use her wand and accio whatever it was she needed but for some reason she didn’t really know, she had decided to go about it the muggle way. A tall, handsome, blond-haired wizard with striking blue eyes, didn’t see her and stumbled. He was able to catch himself and not crush her but they ended up sprawled on the floor. Daphne was left breathless for a moment as she lost herself in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Miss. I didn’t see you.” He offered his hand to help her up. He had a hint of foreign accent but she couldn’t quite place it.
“Oh, it’s nothing really. I don’t even know why I didn’t use my wand. I’m Daphne Greengrass, Head Potioneer, how can I help you?” She tried to sound her normal confident self but she could hear her voice shaking slightly.
“I’m Fredrik Nilsen. Lovely to meet you, Miss Greengrass. I have an appointment with Mr Boots.” He held her hand longer than would be considered proper but she had no intention of letting go. Mr Boots’ booming voice woke them from their reverie.
“Mr Nilsen! I see you’ve met the woman responsible for some of our best advancements with contraceptive potions! Ms Greengrass, join Mr Nilsen and me in my office. I have some grand plans!”