cinnsin

[cinnsin]

Books & Hermione Granger 📖💘🤓

“I got this for you.”

“The Phantom Tollbooth?” He turned it over. “A children’s novel? Do you think so low of my reading ability?” She laughed. “No, it’s not that…it was a favorite of mine, possibly my first favorite book now that I’m thinking about it. I think it’s a good read at any age, truly; it’s quite funny. I got it for you because you used to remind me of the main character, Milo, back in school.” “A little asshole then, is he?” “Not at all…maybe a bit apathetic to start.” “Is that what reminded you of me?” “Hm…maybe. I can’t really put my finger on it. It was after the war, in seventh year, I just remember thinking when I’d see you: there goes Milo.” “Interesting. Well, thank you…I think?”  “You’re welcome.” She smiled brightly at him and Draco decided that she was not trying to pull a triple cross on him, no one could be that genuine and so deceitful at the same time. Especially not someone who was as bad at lying as she clearly was. Still, he wondered what had made her nervous. Could it have been that she was nervous to give him this? He looked at the blue rectangle in his hands. She’d given him her favorite book from childhood, her first favorite book. It felt like something precious. Books and Hermione Granger were synonymous, she was practically a walking encyclopedia, and here he held the book that started it all. There was something intimate and vulnerable about her sharing it with him, like she was asking him to know her. And to say essentially that he reminded her of her first favorite book sounded a lot like he reminded her of her first love…it may have been the highest compliment he'd ever received.  Hermione looked over his damp appearance. “So, were you outside?” She enchanted her books to float in a stack beside her.  “Yes, just back from the stables, actually.” “Oh yes, how could I have forgotten you had stables.” Her mouth twitched like she found it amusing. “I didn't realize there was anything out there living in them.” He nodded. “Five pregnant hippogriffs to be exact.” Draco tried to remember if he'd ever seen Hermione truly struck dumb before. “Alright there, Granger?” “What in the world are you doing with five pregnant hippogriffs?” “I'm not doing anything with them. They're from a small pack that live on the estate.” “A harem.” “Excuse me?” “You said a pack, but a group of hippogriffs are called a harem.” He smirked, of course she would know that.  “Well, actually” one of Draco's favorite ways to hear Hermione start a sentence, “they are also called a tumult but, given that you have five pregnant mares at the same time, I would bet there's only one male with them making it a harem instead of a tumult.” It had been far too long since he'd heard her correct someone academically, he couldn't be happier. “Tell me, aren't you running out of room up there yet?” He tapped his pointer against her forehead. “Not even close.” She swatted him away with a playful smile. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Hermione "Oh, this old thing?" Granger

He'd been hoping to find her where she usually was, curled up in the library with some obscure volume he didn't even know was among the Malfoy collection. Just when he thought he'd missed her, he felt her close by. “What are you doing here?” Draco turned to find Hermione half-dressed for going out. A sleeveless little black dress clung tight to her curvy frame and underneath she wore nearly sheer stockings with tiny black hearts dotting her legs, which were on full display. Draco swallowed the urge to cross the room to her. “You are aware that I own this property, aren't you, Granger?” She rolled her eyes and he considered it a triumph anytime she was annoyed with him after only one exchange. “I just mean it's seven, you're not normally here until nine.” “Is this a bad time? Are you just getting back or about to go out?” He gestured to her outfit. She looked down at herself like she forgot she was dressed as temptation incarnate.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Never to old to be scolded by McGonagall 🙇🏼‍♂️🙇‍♀️

The town looked deserted, some windows broken while others were boarded; a proverbial ghost town, it looked like a shadow of the bustling town from her Hogwarts weekend outings. She'd never had a reason to venture past the shops of Hogsmeade before, so as she came to a fork at the end of the street, she took out the makeshift map that Hagrid had drawn her to check the way to McGonagall's cottage. While she was still getting her bearings, a cold hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm and dragged her into an alleyway. She wanted to scream, but she'd developed a habit of becoming silent when she panicked during her time running from snatchers during the war. Just as she grabbed her wand from her bag, her attacker thrust her so that when he released her, her back thudded against brick and he cornered her between the alley wall and himself. “What in Merlin's name are you doing here, Granger?!” It was Draco; Hermione let out a sigh of relief. “Jesus! What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?!” She shot back. “I almost hexed you, you know.” She put her wand away with a huff. “If that's true, then you're not nearly quick enough on the draw; which is exactly why you were to stay with Azriel!” Draco's eyes were dark with something Hermione hadn't seen in them since sixth year and she could feel rage coming off him in waves. “What's wrong?” Her annoyance melted quickly into worry and she took his hand on an instinct to comfort. Surprise flashed on his face for just a moment before a detached mask fell smoothly into place; he was occluding. “Nothing. Where's Azriel? Why are you alone?” “Why are you occluding? What did you just come from doing?” She squeezed his hand in hers. “Granger.” His tone was warning. “McGonagall wasn't in her office, her portrait said she'd run out to her place in Hogsmeade.” “So you came alone? After I specifically said-” “I need to talk to her about something private.” Hermione did them both a favor and cut him off before he could infantilize her again. “What do you need to talk to her about?” “What did you need to come to Hogsmeade for?” “Stop being deliberately obtuse!” He barked. “Stop being so evasive!” She matched his volume. “Both of you, stop shouting in the hall! Ahem- I mean the alley.” Professor McGonagall stood at the entrance to the alleyway with her lips pursed and her stare as withering as ever. “Professor!” They shouted in unison and jumped side-by-side to face their old instructor. Hermione clasped her hands behind her back and Draco's shot out of his pockets to clap to his sides; they were teenagers again. Minerva McGonagall rolled her eyes at the pair of them. “Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger; is there a reason why I can hear the two of you shouting from inside my kitchen?” She pointed behind herself to a townhome on the corner of the street across from the alley. “Sorry, Professor.” Hermione stared at her shoes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/15586690

[cinnsin]

Takes one to know one ✨️

Hermione hadn't been finished changing for even thirty seconds when a knock came at her door again. Could she not have a single moment of peace? She hadn't even had time to fix her hair yet. Was this how the rest of the month would be? She needed her alone time to recharge, otherwise she had a tendency to become testy. “Theo, you better not have another tray of crudités or I'm going to shove this entire plate of gougères that you already gave me so far down Malfoy's throat you'll taste them when you're down there kissing his arse!” She shouted as she stalked over to the door. A voice called back from the other side. “To be fair, I think he might actually enjoy that!” Malfoy. The source of her near constant chaperoning. "Did you eat any of the gougères or do you just plan to-" She flung open the door with a huff. “Why are you so obsessed with my eating habits?” Draco choked on the rest of his sentence at the sight of her and Hermione had to remind herself she was cross with him to keep from smiling at such a genuine compliment. Pansy was right. “Granger, you look…ahem. That's a very nice dress.” She couldn't help it, a smirk broke her frown. “Thank you. You look ‘ahem’ as well.” Hermione was teasing him, but it was true. “Smugness is quite unbecoming.” Draco grumbled. “I suppose you would know.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Brunch at the Manor 🥐☕️

Hermione wasn't sure how formal breakfast at Malfoy Manor would be, but she was fairly certain that her waitress uniform was not acceptable unless she would actually be doing the serving; especially if Narcissa would be joining them. So, after her shower, she put on a brown turtleneck, a taupe tweed skirt, sheer brown tights, with dark brown boots, and went down to find Draco. The dining room was a modernized gothic-Victorian room; painted charcoal walls and ceiling, cream carpeting, and arched windows. Draco sat at the far end of a Mid-Mod, black-on-black dining table and chairs set for ten with two glass globe lights suspended over it. He was drinking a cup of coffee, hidden behind a copy of The Daily Prophet save for a set of hands and a head of platinum hair, and a veritable feast of breakfast foods was laid out before him along the center of the table. Hermione took in the picture of real adulthood, the kind of adulthood where the adult in question had their shit fully together; something about it made her feel closer to sixteen than twenty-six. She swallowed her insecurities, cleared her throat to announce herself, and joined him at the table. “Anything of note?” Draco lowered the paper and nodded towards the table in front of her seat. “Those have the articles I thought you'd be interested in.” Just next to Hermione's place-setting were some re-folded sections of The Prophet that she picked up as she took her seat. “Oh, thank you.” She was very curious to know what he thought she'd want to read and even more curious to know what he'd kept for himself. “Is that what you wear to work?” Hermione noted that Draco was dressed casually, or at least casual for him, in camel chinos, a dark-grey knit jumper, and brown oxfords. “No, these boots aren't made for walking.” Hermione chuckled uncomfortably. “I just didn't know if Narcissa would be joining us for breakfast.” “You dressed up for my mother?” He gave her an amused smirk. “I suppose, kinda.” Hermione felt embarrassed, she had no idea what was common practice in a pureblood wizarding household. “Interesting. I'm sure she would've appreciated the gesture, but she has already eaten breakfast, we didn't know if you would have been comfortable with her being here.” “Me? I'm fine, I would've thought she would be uncomfortable with my staying here.” Hermione served herself a scone with cream and jam. “Not at all, Granger. You're the first guest we've had since…well, you know." He frowned and quickly continued. "My mother is ecstatic to have company. If you don't mind, she'll have future meals with us on this side of the house.” “I don't mind in the slightest.” She assured him as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

To drink, or not to drink- that is the question.

“You alright?” Draco checked, trying to conceal the concern in his voice. She broke away from him. “Yes, fine, thank you.” She was using her administrative voice and Draco was reminded of sitting across from her at the kitchen table in Shell Cottage. “Would you like a drink?” He walked over to the bar to make himself an Old Fashioned. “No, thank you.” She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking nervous and Draco analyzed her. Why was she nervous? He was the one with something to apologize for. “You're so polite today, what's the occasion?” He decided having something to hold in her hand and drink might take some of the tension out of her jaw, so he poured Hermione a lemon seltzer water anyway, garnishing it with a cucumber slice. “I'm always polite!” She glared at him and he was amused to see her nervousness slip into annoyance. Much better. “Maybe to other people, but not to me.” Draco walked the drinks over to her. “Yes, well, look how well it goes over with you.” She crossed her arms with a huff. “Should we sit and bicker, or stand and bicker?” Draco motioned to a leather conversation set in the corner. “I'm not here to bicker!” Hermione joined him. “What a shame, you do it so well. Lemon seltzer?” He offered it to her once she'd taken a seat. “That's lovely, thank you.” Hermione took the drink and Draco stifled a chuckle. “Oh, shut up.” She rolled her eyes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Idk if it's canon or fanon that wizards only say things like "Merlin's beard!" instead of "Jesus fkn christ", it's always bothered me because they clearly celebrate Christmas so it stands to reason that would still be in their expletive phrase rotation...anyway I follow the rule while writing but fwiw I really think Draco probably would know that the Pope is Catholic 🤷‍♀️

Sitting there and feeling that she was on the other side of some of her greatest adversity, Hermione knew she wouldn't change it. Her body felt weightless, but her mind was grounded in a way it hadn't been in years. She was kneeling at the center of her own magical ground zero and yet she was at peace. If someone were to ask her the meaning of life right at that exact moment, Hermione was sure she would know the answer without a doubt.

She felt different, changed, and everything looked different, brighter and more in-focus. Draco looked different. He was watching her with an ease in his eyes that she'd never seen there before. His hands clasped around one bent knee, the other leg leisurely stretched out on the floor before him: it was an odd juxtaposition to see him sitting there so relaxed amidst the wreckage.

Then again, he always did look sort of casually bored, like he couldn't be bothered to be bothered by anything at all. This was different, though, looser and more honest. He didn't look like Draco at all, with windswept hair and his clothing unkempt, he was a stranger in front of her.

Had she ever even seen him sitting on the ground before? “Sorry about messing up your jumper.” Hermione stared at her handiwork on his chest.

It wasn't even mascara, well it was mascara too-but his knitwear was black so it wasn't noticeable, mainly it was tears and snot from the full-on ugly-cry she'd done sitting in his lap. If she weren't so emotionally spent she might have found it in herself to feel pathetic or embarrassed. As it was, she just didn't have the energy and was decidedly unencumbered for the moment. “What mess?” Draco smoothed his hand down the front of his jumper and it was clean. Hermione’s brows lifted. “Controlled wandless magic?” “Don't sound so surprised, Granger, it's insulting.” Draco scoffed. “Every wizard with a Type-A mother figures that one out as a boy.” The comment brought forth an image of a pre-Hogwarts aged Draco, muddy from playing outside and being chastised by Narcissa. She'd never considered that the compulsively polished exterior he'd maintained since 11-years-old was not a natural symptom of his own vanity. She laughed at the absurdly pedestrian vision of Draco's childhood in her mind and a sharp spasm in her abdomen reminded her of her rib injury. She winced and the foreign, relaxed version of Draco vanished. He was pushing off the ground in an instant to kneel in front of her. “What's wrong?” She groaned. “You don't have any anagleserum in this enormous mansion, nor the ability to make it, apparently.” “Oh, yes, not since-” He frowned. “I'd forgotten.” His guarded reaction made Hermione curious about the nature of the accident Narcissa previously mentioned, but his tone told her not to ask. “Do you have a potions kit at home? “Is the pope Catholic?” She punctuated the question with a grunt as she gingerly attempted getting off the ground. “I haven't a clue.” He moved to help her to her feet.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

In my head this scene is giving Hermione Jean Grey & The Order of The Dark Phoenix 😅 iykyk

He could feel it in the foyer, her magic crackling through the air. The floors were rumbling and glass jingled from down the hall. “Hermione!” Luna sounded from the parlor. Why the fuck were they in the parlor? Hermione was standing right where it happened, eyelids shut so tight they looked like prunes, fists clenched, trembling, and Draco was running again.

Her raw magic was warping the physics close by. Wood chips peeled from the floorboards beneath her feet and turned into smoke that feathered and curled through the atmosphere. The glass chandelier directly above her head was twisting itself apart piece by piece and shattering, only to float away in a slow current, suspended mid-air. An energy pulse was keeping his mother and Luna from getting anywhere close to her but Draco knew that if she would just look at him then he could get to her. Draco dropped his mental barriers and used Legilimency to shout to her psychically, as well as out loud. “Granger!” Her eyelids shot open and Draco was unprepared for the mix of emotion behind them; there was fear and sorrow, yes, but more than that was rage. It was rolling off her in waves and as he reached her he felt himself getting caught in the undertow. He gripped her shoulders, intending to pull her into him and out from beneath the shards of glass forming into a cloud above her, but when he touched her he was back there with her. “Tell the truth you filthy little mudblood! Tell me how you got into my vault or I will gut you like the sneaky little vermin you are.” His Aunt Bellatrix was standing in the parlor pushing a knife into Hermione's stomach and Draco faltered for just a moment. Next to him, his Father looked elated while his mother looked desperate. Fenrir Greyback was sniffing around Hermione like she was a prime filet and Draco had to remind himself that he wasn't actually there. Hermione's lips were pursed and her chin jutted out in defiance, refusing to even wince at the knife digging into her belly. He remembered that face; back then he'd been praying she'd give in, knowing that his aunt would only get more creative the longer it took to break her. “Granger, this isn't real.” She looked straight at him, but not him now, him then. He couldn't decipher it when he was younger. He thought it was a pleading look, begging him to help her when he knew he couldn't, but he was mistaken. She was pleading, but not for herself. He could recognize it in her eyes now that he knew the feeling, she'd already accepted she was going to die; she was pleading for it not to be in vain. She was pleading for his soul, the fucking Gryffindor martyr complex rearing it's ugly head.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Just one of those days

As he rounded the corner of Flourish & Blotts, he had to physically restrain himself from running through the streets to Borgin & Burkes like a final lap on his way to victory. Nothing could derail him from passing this gauntlet; nothing except the horrifying screams of Hermione Granger in excruciating pain, Draco heard the guttural shrieks in his nightmares enough to recognize them without a doubt. They were coming from inside Flourish & Blotts, now chorused by the shouting of patrons in shock. “She's been splinched!”, “Is anybody a mediwizard?”, “Is that Hermione Granger?” Draco ran inside, pushing through a small circle of shoppers that had gathered around her. “MOVE!” “Someone Floo St. Mungo's!” “NO!” Hermione's roar cut through the gathering crowd. She was lying on the ground, scrunched in the fetal position, pressing something into her side. “Granger!” Draco dropped to the floor next to her, trying to quickly assess how she'd been hurt. “Take me to the London Zoo!” She groaned. Was it her brain that got splinched? “You need to go to St. Mungo's.” Draco told her. “NO! Don't take me there.” She sounded desperate and she was looking at him like she did that night in the parlor of Malfoy Manor. “Ok. No St. Mungo's.” He agreed, trying to think of something other than the zoo. “What about a muggle hospital?” “No! No strangers. Take me to Luna!” "She works with animals, not people!" Draco couldn't see her wound. “Where are you hurt?” “My ribs.” Draco could tell now that it was a blood-soaked jumper she was holding against her side. "She's still better than anyone at healing spells." “Fine, where's your cell? I'll call her. I can't apparate with you like this, you'll be split in two.” “She doesn't keep her cell on near the animals.” “Merlin's fucking Beard, Granger! You're bleeding out, we have to do something.” “Cast a bandaging charm and call a cab.” “Move your hands.” Draco ordered, discarded the bloody jumper from atop her, and ripped her shirt to expose the full wound. He steeled himself, intent on remaining composed at the sight of her like that, but his heart raced. Hermione had a hole in her side the size of a cricket ball and seemed to be missing several ribs. “Ferula!” Gauze shot from his wand and expertly wrapped around Hermione's abdomen. “You're not taking a 20 minute cab ride to the damn zoo.” He scooped her up into his arms. “Get the fuck out of my way, you vultures!” He shoved past the shameless, rubbernecking mob. Draco jogged her back to The Leaky Cauldron with her wincing and moaning in pain at the drop of every bound. “Where are you taking me?” Hermione asked when he brought her to the back floo. “I'm sorry.” Was all he replied before tossing the powder and stepping them into peridot flames. “Malfoy Manor!” Draco hadn't flooed into the Manor since before Azkaban, but he wasn't thinking about his usual compulsion to physically pass its gates. Instead, he was monitoring the reaction of the witch cradled against his chest as they emerged from the ivory stone pillars lining the hearth and stepped into the parlor. Hermione took one look at where they were, whispered to herself “Why today?”, then passed out in his arms.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

A lil ron bashing for good measure

Draco followed Hermione out to the snowy path back up to the castle. At first they walked in silence, though she was worrying so loudly that Draco couldn't completely keep her thoughts out of his head. Even through his occlumency, Draco caught bits and snippets of her strong mind, nothing that made any sense, but mostly just the overwhelming feeling that she was experiencing massive amounts of anxiety. Draco found this perplexing; in his usual experience, women found what they did last night to be quiet stress relieving. “So, um, how was the party last night?” Hermione said as they reached the clocktower courtyard. “Hmm.” Draco sat down on the sil of one of the stone windows in the ivy-covered breezeway and sipped his coffee, pretending to think. “Smalltalk and a stroll: not our usual, but I'm always up for trying new things.” Hermione stopped in front of Draco with a huff, fists on her hips and arms akimbo. “Well excuse me for trying to be pleasant to you for once.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, is that what you're trying to do, Granger?” Draco arched an eyebrow. “I have to say, I found you to be quite pleasant last evening.” He teased, hoping to evoke another blush from her. Hermione didn't disappoint, her cheeks flushed to match the rosy-pink color that the cold air had turned her nose and she bashfully crossed her arms over her chest. Draco caught a glimpse from last night in her mind and her anxiety turned quickly to arousal. Hermione’s inner voice broke through his mental barrier. “Want him so badly!” Draco took another sip of his coffee to hide a satisfied smirk and got up from where he was sitting to walk closer to her. “...kiss me?” He had only stood up inorder to chat with her, since she didn't join him sitting on the stone sil, but he liked where her head was at; he would happily kiss her if that was what she wanted. Hermione's eyes darted to his mouth and he could feel her anticipation growing. She retreated slowly toward the pillar behind her and Draco moved with her like there was a tether between them. “Um, yes, about that…” her voice was shaky as her back hit the structure. “I-I don't normally do that.” Draco supressed a smirk, it was practically her catch phrase at this point. “Yes, you apprised me of Weasley's ineptitude.”

[cinnsin]

☕️💞

As they approached Hagrid's, Draco heard a lighthearted laughter he had only ever experienced from afar. Hermione was inside. Draco felt heat rise from his chest into his throat and he paused at the threshold. Fang announced their arrival before he even had time to question whether this was the wrong setting to meet Hermione in for the first time since their outdoor encounter. “Oi! Settle down, you big oaf! It's only Draco." Hagrid's voice sounded through the door before opening it. “Ah! Draco, you're just in time to see Hermione!” Hagrid ushered him inside. “Azriel! Good to see yeh!” Hermione was in Hagrid's kitchen with her back turned doing something at the counter. She was in a short maroon sweater-dress that clung to her in a way that accentuated her pert backside, paired with sheer black tights and matching leather maroon boots; it was a testament to his will that Draco didn't immediately cross the room to run his hands up her frame. “I tell you wha’,” Hagrid motioned for them to go to the kitchen table, “yer lucky she stopped by this mornin’. I guess the coffee I made you earlier was a wee bit strong. I don't know, I never drink the stuff.” “A wee bit? It could've given you a heart attack and then raised you from the dead.” Hermione's laugh was more nervous than natural as she turned around holding a tea tray loaded with a coffee set. Her steps foward became unsteady when she met his eyeline and Draco watched amused as the contents rattled on the tray that she carried. “Hi” She smiled timidly and released one handle of the tray to give an awkward wave. Draco retrieved his wand and cast “Immobulus!”, suspending the french press full of coffee, two mugs, and a sugar bowl in the air; however, the tray and a porcelain creamer filled with milk had already crashed to the floor. Hermione dropped to her knees and started picking up broken pieces of porcelain from the kitchen tile, nicking herself in the process. “Shit!” “You're bleeding.” Draco was pulling her to her feet in an instant. “Let me see.” He took her hand, palm-up, and Hermione winced. “Oh, Hagrid, I'm so sorry for the mess.” “Not ter worry, looks like Azriel's got it sorted.” Hermione looked to where Azriel was already waving his wand to fix the dish, clean up the milk and set everything back in it's place on the tea tray; she sighed. “7 years of free-use magic and I still first think to do things the muggle way.”

Had she said that out loud? “Episkey!” Draco healed the cut on her palm and turned her hand over to inspect it: no more cuts; her hand was so small compared to his and her skin was much softer. Hermione cleared her throat. “Ahem. Thank you.” She blushed and Draco realized he'd been holding her hand for a few beats too long.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Dream a little dream of Hermione 🌙✨️

From the windows it seemed to be twilight, just before sunrise. Maybe Hermione had woken up and decided to go back to the dormitories, but Draco had a feeling he would find her among the stacks. As he rounded the corner into the Charms section, he found Hermione rifling through some parchment notes and flipping through a book, looking frazzled. “What on earth are you doing?” Hermione didn't look up from her search. “I know it's in here somewhere, something about a blood tethering charm…of course it doesn't say how, but it did mention the source material. It might be in the restricted section…” She wasn't making any sense to Draco, clearly absorbed in whatever project she found so provoking that it woke her from sleep. “And why are you wearing that?” Draco noticed she was in her old school uniform as he walked to the desk where she was working, though it was a bit small for her adult frame. “Oh! Malfoy. What are you…I thought you'd left.” Hermione seemed to just notice it was him talking to her. “No, still here. Why on earth are you digging through the Hogwarts Library?” Hermione gave him a dramatic eye roll. “N.E.W.T.s are in 2 weeks! I've been at the trials so often… I'm so behind.” Draco laughed. He was dreaming. This was nearly the last memory he had of Hermione at school. He had come to return his books just before dropping out of Hogwarts and she had been furiously studying for impending N.E.W.T.s. He didn't remember talking to her that day, so his mind had fabricated this bit about blood spells. “Trust me, you'll pass.” Draco's gaze lingered on her outfit. Hermione huffed. “You can't know that.” She turned away from her pile of books to give him a stern look. “Everyone thinks oh, Hermione can do it, she'll figure it out, she always does; but guess what! It takes a lot of studying and hard work to do what I do and know what I know. It's not like knowledge just pops into my head, I have to actually acquire it! And it's not easy, either. I feel like my head is about to explode, I just can't figure out this one spell…something about confundus…I can't quite remember…” She chewed her lip and Draco smiled, even in his dreams she was a swotty mess. “I meant you'll pass because you already have. This isn't real. You're just a dream.” Draco knew the first rule of lucid dreaming was to acknowledge that it was a dream, then you could do practically anything you want- limited only by your own imagination. As a Legilimens, he had lucid dreams fairly often, though he hadn't had this particular kind of dream about Hermione since grade school. Of course his lizard brain would revert to teen fantasies with him being back at Hogwarts. Hermione in her school uniform bent over a library desk had been some of his most tried-and-true material back then. “What do you mean I'm just a dream? Are you high?” Draco laughed. “No, Granger, I'm not high. Look…” Draco grabbed her hands and pulled her towards the curtains of the restricted section. “W-what are you doing?! My notes!” She shouted after the parchment covered table as Daco pulled her through the curtains. “Madam Pince will-”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

If nothing else, they're a consistent excuse for a side chat 🚬

Snakes & Stones & Broken Bones

Hermione exploded a completely unhinged stream of consciousness at him, feelings about her relationship with Ron and regrets that she was clearly still processing. Tears that Draco had been sure would spill over dried up before falling from her eyes and Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I don't know why I just told you all that.” Draco pulled out his cigarette tin and offered her one. “Don't be, seems like you needed to get it out.” Hermione hesitated before taking the menthol from him. “I don't normally…” She put it to her lips and allowed Draco to light it for her. “What? Shout publicly about your sexual inexperience?” Draco tongued his canine in an attempt to stifle a laugh. Hermione shot him a glare as she exhaled. “I was going to say 'smoke', but yes, that too.” “Don't worry, I don't think anyone outside of Scotland heard you.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Arse.” She took another drag. “And I'm not inexperienced, the experience I have is just very concentrated.” She corrected him. Draco didn't much care for the reminder that Ron was her sole exposure to intimacy, but he tried to remain collected. “Consider me doubtful that Weasley had much to offer you in that department.” Hermione cocked her head as she eyed him suspiciously. “As opposed to what you have to offer, is that your meaning?” “Well, I don't like to brag…” Draco moved closer to her, “but as far as I know, no one has ever described me as 'boring'.” “And, as far as you know, how do they describe you?” Hermione sounded genuinely curious as she leaned against the stone wall opposite him. Were they really discussing what he thought they were discussing?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

The Slug Club Christmas party all over again. 💃🕺🏼

Snakes & Stones & Broken Bones

“May I cut in?” Hermione looked relieved until she saw it was him asking, probably hoping for Weasley. “Malfoy?” McLaggen looked at Draco like it was utterly laughable he would try to dance with Hermione, perhaps it was. “Surely you can't have expected to monopolize every dance with such a stunning partner.” Draco took Hermione's hand from McLaggen. “Well, no, but-” “Good man. Thank you for being so understanding.” Draco smoothly pulled Hermione into him, steadied her with his other hand at the small of her back, and waltzed them away from a dumbfounded McLaggen. “What are you doing? Won't your date mind?” Hermione looked up at him with a furrowed brow and pursed lips, in clear disapproval of his last dance partner. “Pansy? Don't worry about her, she's quite the philanthropist.” Hermione scoffed and attempted to pull away from him. “Oh, and dancing with me is charity, is it?” Draco spun her back into him. “Not in the slightest. I meant merely that she too was sympathetic to your cause.” “My cause?” She looked truly confused; did she really think she was that inconspicuous? “Yes, trying to win your break-up, aren't you?” Draco leaned down to whisper in her ear. “McLaggen is a tool, granted, but aren't I a much more useful one when it comes to upsetting the little weasel?” Draco let his nose graze against her cheek as he pulled his face from hers, dipping her low. When he returned them upright, Hermione was flushed, arms littered with goosebumps, and Draco tried not to let it go to his head how her chest was heaving. The way her body reacted to him was incendiary and he had half a mind to carry her out of the hall to somewhere private where he could show her just how thoroughly he'd make her forget Weasley if she'd let him. “You're dancing with me to make Ronald jealous?” She looked incredulous. “How generous.” “If it means helping a beautiful woman, I can be very generous.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, I'm well aware.” “Are you?” Draco wondered what she was referring to. Hermione cleared her throat and evened her breathing. “Yes, well, thanks for the offer, but I'll have to politely decline. Ronald seems plenty worked up as it is.” Hermione nodded towards where Weasley was standing, looking like a pressure cooker about to burst. “Your date looks lonely.” She slipped from his hands and walked off the dancefloor. His date. It was the second time she said it like that. Did she think he was there with Pansy romantically? If she did, Draco knew Hermione wouldn't be the type to take another woman's escort just to further her own agenda, no matter how much she didn't like said woman; it wouldn't be right, and she was very preoccupied with what was right. Draco trotted after her. “Would it make a difference to know Pansy and I are just here as friends? I'm free to help you without any hard feelings on her part, I can assure you.” Hermione snorted. “Trust me, I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of rattling Ronald all on my own if I so choose.” “I don't doubt it.” Draco followed Hermione to the practically empty Gryffindor table. “Not that I would do that sort of thing.” She grabbed her clutch from below her seat and headed to the back exit. Draco chuckled, knowing she without a doubt would do that sort of thing and in fact already had.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Mama bear Theo 🐻

Snakes & Stones & Broken Bones

“Who was that? Why are you meeting with werewolves?” “Merlin, Granger, I told you to go! Don't you damn Gryffindors have any sense of self-preservation whatsoever?” Draco looked up from his phone with a snarl. “I did go! I apparated into the back alley-” He met her in the middle of the room. “And you had to call Theo? He's blowing up my phone right now.” “Well I couldn't very well leave you all alone, could I?” Hermione couldn't believe she was getting flack for trying to back him, a thank you would be nice. His expression softened. “You don't need to worry about me, Granger, I can take care of myself.” Hermione rolled her eyes, just like a man to think he was invincible. “Werewolves are very dangerous so close to the full moon, even in human form.” She argued. Draco closed the space between them and Hermione's breath hitched when he took her face in his hands. Her cheeks burned where he stroked his thumbs across them and his silver eyes turned molten, baring into hers from beneath a stern brow. “I'm more dangerous.” His tone left no space for argument. “What exactly is going on here?” Theo apparated next to them with Luna in-tow. “Why aren't you answering my texts?” Draco released her to face Theo and Hermione's breath returned to her. When she looked over to her friend, Luna was giving her a very satisfied smile and Hermione shot her a glare that she hoped said don't start. “Nott, take it down a notch. I texted you that it was nothing.” Draco sighed and gestured at Hermione. “See what you did? Now he'll be worked up all night.” “Where's Azriel?” Theo looked around with a miffed expression, arms akimbo, tapping his foot like he wanted to speak to the manager of something. “He's gone ahead to Scotland, mother, now will you please calm down?” Two more pops sounded from behind Hermione and she turned to see Blaise with…Pansy Parkinson, the pug-nosed mean girl who bullied her throughout her entire time at Hogwarts. “You look fine to me!” Blaise said instead of a greeting. “Theo, you made it sound as if he were maimed.” “Well, he could've been!” “Merlin, did he call you two?” Draco didn't look surprised to see Pansy at all. “Darling,” Hermione winced at Pansy's ridiculously drawn out RP, “don't be cross with Theo for caring about your safety; you do tend to mix yourself up with the wrong sort.” Pansy chided and Hermione didn't miss the not-so-subtle dig clearly aimed at her. The wrong sort, she meant muggle-born.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

The earlybird catches the bookworm 📖🪱

Snakes & Stones & Broken Bones

“Do you actually know how to enter a building without breaking in?” Draco leaned over the rail to address the brunette trespasser. “Where is everyone?” Hermione ignored his query. “Well, it's three in the afternoon and the locked front door indicates that we're closed.” Draco descended the stairs. “What?” Hermione looked perplexed. “No, where are Luna and Theo? Is that what you're wearing? I thought the dress code was formal, I hate being overdressed. Luna said Theo would be meeting her at work to bring her straight here.” “You're here for the port key.” Draco deduced that Theo invited Luna to use his port key with them tonight and that in turn Luna and Hermione were a package deal. “I am. Which by the way, I didn't think any of the ones to Scotland were active since the wall went up. The Hogwarts Express is supposed to be the only faction-neutral entrance into Bulgarian occupied territory.” “Yes, well, it pays to have friends in low places.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Right. So you still haven't answered: where is everyone?” “You still haven't answered if you knew how to knock.” Hermione put her hands on her hips like her patience was wearing thin. “Malfoy.” “Yes, Granger?” He gave her as charming a smile as he could muster and was rewarded with her cheeks flushing a beautiful dusty rose; he loved that. It felt like the sun was warming Draco from the inside out whenever she blushed for him. She cocked her head to the side with a sigh and her blush faded. “I'm serious.” “As I said before, it's 3PM. The Alumni dinner doesn't even start until 6. Which is also why I am not in my formalwear yet.” “Exactly! It's already 3PM!” “You'd like to arrive three hours early?” Draco chortled. “Please tell me your reasoning.”

This ought to be good. “Well, I don't know where your port key lets out so I assume we'll need to travel from wherever that is to the school, once we're there everyone will need to freshen up with spells in the lavatories since of course we won't be on the train to do so before we arrive; then there's mingling and drinks, and most importantly: finding proper seats at a good table location; and all that is assuming your dodgy port key even works so we'll need time to get to platform 9 ¾ if not.” Hermione looked at him expectantly, as if now that he was apprised of her reasoning he would be rushing them out to the port key to leave immediately. Draco couldn't help but laugh, it was better than he could've imagined. Hermione, in all her extraordinary swottiness, was basically racing to get a good seat in school.

“First off, my port key is not dodgy. I don't deal in anything but the most reliable black-market goods.” He gave her a wink, knowing full well she would be having some kind of moral dilemma over using an illegal port. “As for the rest: we'll let out in the shrieking shack, so it'll be just fifteen minutes through the tunnel; I can't imagine it will take long to wave a wand over your hair in the lavatory; I don't mingle, but I'll make you a drink right now if you like; and the best seat will be whichever is the one next to yours, darling.” He smirked, more than pleased to see her cheeks bloom pink once again, thinking tonight would be a good night.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[cinnsin]

Had to...🫦

Snakes & Stones & Broken Bones

She didn't know exactly where Draco lived, she'd only seen the inside of his flat when she was there, otherwise she would've preferred to apparate outside his apartment like any decent person would do at-   Hermione checked her watch, 3AM- Merlin!   Concluding that this was insane behavior, Hermione started for his front door. If she could quietly exit, then she could knock and at least appear to be less crazy than she felt. Just inches from turning the knob, she heard Draco call from down the hall. “Nott, is that you? I already told Blaise I'm fine- Granger?” Any hope of cohesive thought vanished from Hermione's mind at the sight of him. Apparently just out of a shower, of course, wearing nothing but gray joggers, gods, and toweling off his hair: Draco was temptation incarnate. Water dripped down his chest, slipping over an abdomen that was even more perfectly sculpted than she had imagined- not that she had imagined. Hermione let her eyes rove over the tattoos that wrapped around lean muscles, crawling up his arms over broad shoulders to his neck; well it would be rude not to appreciate such fine artistry…  “Very fine.” Her inner monologue escaped past her traitorous lips. “What?” Draco looked nearly as gobsmacked as she was. “Ahem- I mean, hi.” Hermione squeaked and, judging by the glower that overtook Draco's expression, it sounded as stupid to him as she felt saying it.  “Hi?” Draco arched a brow at her before throwing his towel onto a hallway bench.

He stalked towards her with a dangerous expression that made her doubt whether intruding into his home in the wee hours of the night was such a good plan.   “I don't have your phone number.” Hermione answered an unasked question, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. “You don't.” He concurred, silver eyes combing over like a predator assessing for weak points. “And I didn't know where this building was, or I would've knocked.” Hermione's voice shook as he closed in on her. “I see.” His imposing body loomed closer. “I couldn't sleep.” She cheeped, taking a step back only to be met with the solid front door. “So you came here?” Draco towered over her with an intimidating glare and it made her dizzy to look up at him. Hermione was sure he was about to throw her out. “I had to tell you I'm sorry.”  He eased back from her and an unfamiliar expression flashed across his face before he replied. “Don't be, you didn't say anything that wasn't true.” “Of course it wasn't true. I don't feel that way about you or any of it." Regret punched her in the stomach. "I only said it to hurt you.” She admitted in shame.  “Why?” Draco advanced again, but Hermione had nowhere left to retreat. “To make you leave my flat.” Her head spun as his clean musk invaded the air between them, made warm by the heat radiating from his post-shower skin. “For you to show up at mine?” He caged her in by resting a hand atop the threshold. “Yes, to apologize.” All around her now, his scent was putting her in a heady daze. “Which you had to do.” His voice turned gruff and a charge crackled around them.  “Yes.” She whispered, her voice crushed under the weight of his stare. “Right now, at 3 in the morning?” Hermione watched the words fall from his mouth, now close enough that she could taste his full bottom lip were she to reach up on her tip-toes. “Y-yes.” She bit into her own lip instead and let the pain ground her. Draco groaned. “Not with the lip-bite, Granger, c'mon. What are you trying to do to me?” He gently pushed her cardigan off her shoulders. A cool draft licked her neck and ran down her spine, sending a wave of goosebumps across her body. ���And I suppose you had to come in this, did you?”  Hermione examined her pajamas, light grey soft shorts and a white cotton baby-tee, covered up with an oversized oatmeal cardigan and capped off with pink fluffy slippers. It was hardly scandalous, maybe a bit informal, but they were just normal sleep-clothes; nothing compared to what he had on display.