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Draco and Hermione 🖤

Bandages

When it came to Hermione he didn’t mess around.

Paired with her clumsiness...Let’s just say that he has permanent worry lines etched on his face from the amount of times he’d crinkled his brows in concern. Draco’s even mastered the art of the exasperated sigh.

The very same tch is being used as he presses his fingers against his temple, closing his eyes as he listens to Hermione rambling on the phone.

She had been putting dishes away and the entire shelve of wine glasses fell down, crashing onto the floor. Her wand was lost among the stacks of books in her living room and so she was warning him to be careful when he came over because there was glass scattered everywhere.

What about you? He wanted to ask again. But he didn’t even know why he cared in the first place even though he’d yelled at her for five minutes regarding how he would kill her himself if she didn’t be more careful.

Didn’t know why the mere thought of that girl getting a scratch made him want to drop everything and race over to her side. To kill the culprit responsible, to growl and pace and rip his hands through his hair.

He might have started doing that after he found out she’d cut her feet-multiple times now- and was running them under the sink because she couldn’t walk across the floor to get bandages.

His blood roared. She’s hurt.

The black cloak was around his shoulders wishing seconds and he swirled out the front door, barking orders to her over the phone.

It was the only thing he could do to prevent himself from smashing the blasted muggle contraption against the wall in frustration.

A crack sounded and he appeared in front of her flat, storming up the steps with murder written across his face.

His face went white, his eyes glazing over.

Oh gods.

It was bad. So bad that he wanted to scream.

Thousands of shards of glass were spread across the kitchen floor. And they were painted, covered, in a deep, ruby red.

Blood.

Her blood. Hermione gave him a small wave from the counter. She was perched on the granite, both of her feet in the sink.

He couldn’t breath, couldn’t think. Draco swirled towards her, the shards crunching beneath his feet.

With a nod of her head he gently picked up her foot. His finger caressed the tens of cuts that lined it.

A growl rose at the back of his throat.

Bandages.

Where were the bloody ban-

Spying them tucked under the coffee table, he summoned them before tending to her feet. The entire time he looked down, not meeting her eyes.

His hands were shaking as he wound the bandages round, and round, and round.

And when he was done he still didn’t look up. Only dropped the roll of linen onto the floor, his chest heaving. But when a pair of soft, warm hands pulled his face up to hers he resigned, his head limp in her hands.

The only thing left in his tired eyes was raw anguish. She again gave him that soft, broken smile and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t realize he’d been shaking until he pressed his face into her curls, inhaling her scent.

She’s okay. All the fight drained out of him as he leaned against the counter, arms around her body. She’s okay.

Some time after Draco and Hermione got married

So after reading Remain Nameless by @heyjude19-writing I couldn’t stop thinking about Hermione and Draco going back to the cafe with their kids...

So here is Hermione and her daughter eating lunch outside

The Ultimate Dramione Shipper's Guide:

dramionefanfiction:

ALL OF THIS.

Happy birthday @smithandbarrowman !!

All the best from me any your lovely friend @coyg-81 who was so generous and thoughtful to commission this scene from Something Beutiful in Return . The pink hats were my favorite part 💕

This is my Something Beautiful in Return. Thank you so much @nikitajobson for your amazing talent, and @coyg-81 for commissioning this for me 💚💚

- @mightbewriting | Couch Collection Ch. 3

After reading this delightfully fluffy chapter, I couldn’t resist drawing this sweet scene.

I’m also trying a new illustration style so be gentle lol

Thank you mightbewriting for the ultimate inspiration to draw again: family fluff for the 2 people we know deserve it the most!!!

Every canon Dramione moment

I have compiled here a list of every single time Draco and Hermione interacted in canon, talked about one another, or could have conceivably interacted for all your Hogwarts-era fanfic needs! 

If I left anything out, please don’t hesitate to comment or DM me! There are some really obvious ones I left out e.g. the fanfic classics: prefects’ bathroom, Astronomy Tower, Black Lake, Potions lesson…

I haven’t included page numbers because every edition is different and it would be confusing. This list is intended as pinpoint references for you to check out the scene in your own books, which is why they’re not super detailed.

Enjoy!

Keep reading

he’s mad she always underdresses (◡‿◡✿)

“Christ!”

Malfoy’s oath interrupted Theo mid-thought as he was hurriedly doctoring his morning tea. Theo didn’t expect he’d ever acclimatise to the swill that passed as tea in Hogwarts, but it was warm, unlike the dungeons that someone a thousand years ago had decided was acceptable accommodations for the ambition-ladened.

Mid-winter and the dungeons were presently so cold one would develop frostbite walking across the floors without well-insulated shoes. Burbage claimed that his arse and thighs had never been the same after groggily sitting on a dungeon toilet in fourth-year without remembering to cast a warming charm on the seat.

Dungeon Common Rooms were character building, Snape had said when Theo had inquired about the use of insulation back in first-year. What better motivation to ascend to great heights than an origin story that involved seven years living in a cold, clammy dungeon?

Well, perhaps that was the way it was for some Slytherins. The extent of Theo’s ambition was to stay ensconced within his favourite cashmere jumper and consume a form of hot liquid that would clear his head enough coherently to listen to McGonagall discuss NEWT exams for an hour straight.

Theo added an additional splash of milk until it was the proper colour at least, and then rapidly gulped a mouthful, looking up to see what had managed to attract Malfoy’s ire at dawn.

Malfoy was glowering across the Great Hall at his Co-Head, Granger.

Granger was seated at the Gryffindor table inhaling her breakfast, her eyes fastened on an enormous textbook propped up against a teapot. Without looking up, she reached across the table and snatched away a third-year’s wand before he managed to flick a kipper down a nearby girl’s shirt.

Theo studied Granger and then glanced back at Malfoy, and then back to Granger again.

She appeared entirely normal. The same mountain of books somehow carried in a mysteriously normal. regulation-sized school satchel. Same harried, pinched expression. Same Gryffindor robes with the proudly polished Head Girl badge gleaming. There was nothing notable about her whatsoever. Theo had no idea what about the girl could possibly have done to set Malfoy off so early in the morning.

Then again, Malfoy did have to work with Granger, constantly. As Malfoy’s roommate, Theo was on the receiving end of many of Malfoy tirades about how annoying Granger was, and all the annoying things she did, and how annoyed Malfoy was from having to be around her constantly until Theo was certain he probably knew more about Hermione Granger than anyone in all of history would ever want to know.

Theo had dreamt of becoming Head Boy himself, but hearing about the job endlessly from Malfoy made for an excellent case against it. Granger, according to Malfoy, was the unbearable.

“That does it,” Malfoy said through his teeth, looking ready to combust from outrage. Stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth, he stood and stalked across the Great Hall.

“Granger,” Malfoy’s voice was low and vibrating with angry intensity even across the Hall, “could I have a word?”

Granger snapped her book shut, slipped it into her bag, and followed Malfoy out of the Great Hall with the air of a martyr.

Left in blessed peace, Theo finished his tea and breakfast before heading to Transfiguration. Halfway there he heard Malfoy’s voice.

“—if you leave me to cover and I have to do rounds with MacMillan I will end up killing him. Save us both the paperwork and murder trial and cooperate for once in your life. It’s freezing cold in the dungeons right now.”

Theo glanced around the corner to be greeted by the unexpected sight of Malfoy peeling off his jumper and pulling it down over the bewildered, bushy head of Granger.

“Honestly, Malfoy,” Granger indignant voice was muffled through the knit as she pulled it over her head.

The jumper swam on her, all black but for its Slytherin green and silver detailing. Malfoy fastidiously straightened her shirt collar and rolled up the sleeves to her wrists with an aggravated expression on his face.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Theo watched Malfoy step back, looking her up and down as he pulled his robes back on. “That’ll have to do, or we’ll be late for class. For Christ’s sake, wear decent clothes. I don’t have time to cover for you if you get sick.”

He stormed away towards Potions without a backwards glance. Granger followed him a moment later, leaving Theo alone in the hall to press a hand against his forehead and curse his abysmal luck.

Granger wore Malfoy’s jumper the entire day apparently oblivious to the whispers that followed her.

To Theo’s surprise, Malfoy was in an unusually congenial mood that night in their room.

The next day, was business as usual and Theo sipped his tea and turned a deaf ear to Malfoy’s endless stream of complaints about having to share office hours with Granger that evening.

The day after that was Herbology, and Theo was involuntarily treated to the sight of Malfoy herding Granger to an alcove, and carefully wrapping her up in his scarf until she was buried from her shoulders to the tips of her ears in green and silver.

“It’s snowing today. Do you have any common sense, or did you decide to forego because it doesn’t come printed in hardback?” Malfoy asked scathingly as he crowded himself closer and expanded his scarf by a half dozen feet in order to ensure Granger was sufficiently ensconced in it.

Granger was mysteriously silent.

As Malfoy stormed away through the snow, Theo stayed back and took note of the glimmer in her eyes as she re-shouldered her bookbag and set off after Malfoy.

The next night, she was wearing a green trimmed sweater, Slytherin robes, and a green cashmere scarf while up in the Astronomy tower, looking cheerful and toasty during Sinistra’s lecture.

Theo was certain that then entire school population was aware of what was happening, with the sole exception of Malfoy who was apparently on a mission to donate his entire wardrobe to Granger.

As long Theo wasn’t forced to endure any more of Malfoy’s tirades, he didn’t care how long it took Malfoy to figure it out. If it lasted until Spring, at least it wouldn’t be so unbearably cold when Malfoy resumed.

He averted his eyes and feigned ignorance when Malfoy complained about his lack of robes and sulked when he realised he’d run out of scarves after three weeks.

After a month, Theo wasn’t sure how many uniforms Malfoy could possibly still have. Considering what a micro-managing busybody Granger could be, she was mysteriously absent-minded when it came to returning Malfoy’s wardrobe. Malfoy wouldn’t be fussed to asked for them back.

Theo didn’t say a word. If Malfoy was forced to begin wearing last year’s robes, he might finally put together why he was so keen to keep Granger constantly dressed in his clothes.

It was doubtful, but a wizard could hope.

Theo rolled out of bed one bitterly frigid morning after oversleeping and stumbled across the room in search of his favourite cashmere jumper. He reached groggily into his wardrobe to the place it should have been but found empty air.

It was gone.

A bare hanger greeted Theo’s stunned gaze. He looked in horror towards Malfoy’s bed.

With a wail of despair, Theo bolted through the dungeons.

Malfoy and Granger had already left the Great Hall when he got there.

Theo ran on, plagued by visions of his beloved jumper being stuffed over Granger’s head, and disappearing forever into her stash of Slytherin garb.

A first-year had seen them headed towards the Head Office.

By the time Theo got there, his horror had transformed into rage. After all he’d endured. He would not let his jumper be collateral damage.

Theo flung the door open. “Malfoy, just tell Granger you fancy her and give me my jumper back—!”

His voice cut off and he choked at the unexpected sight of Malfoy and Granger across the Head Boy desk, wearing less than half a school uniform between the pair of them.

“Oh god,” Theo said.

“Nott,” Malfoy’s voice was low and vibrating with angry intensity. “Get out!”