#ron bashing

[unfoggingthefuture-ao3]

Only in My Mind

Summary

After an accident in the Time Room, Hermione Granger wakes up with fractured memories, believing she's still in a relationship with Ron Weasley. But something feels off. Vivid dreams of another life, a strange connection to Draco Malfoy, and an undeniable tension with Ron leave her questioning her reality.

WIP | Dramione | Memory Loss | Ron Bashing | Weekly Updates

Read on Ao3

[syrenanightshade18]

I love Ron Weasley and I vehemently dislike fics that bash him. He's such a complex character and I relate to his insecurity and not being noticed on a molecular level. His strategic mind is tragically overlooked and so is his fierce loyalty. Never fucking insult Ron Weasley in front of me.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Marriage Law Trope #7

I'm not entirely pleased with how these came. Good news is, when I finally edit them all and put them up onto Ao3, I can work on them a bit more, flesh out the parts I don't find entirely...done. But, like they say, out of sight, out of mind.

Granger tells me that it doesn’t mean anything.

That this joining of our bodies, the consummation of our marriage, doesn’t mean a thing. I tell her that she’s wrong. This? The feel of my hand on her stomach, the feel of my tongue lapping in between her thighs? The way my tongue takes, long, deliberate strokes so that I can taste every bit of her heated arousal? The way she’s cries and whimpers against me, lifting there hips until her mound is pressed into my nose?

The way she grips at my shoulders, my hair, as she looks down at me? The way my eyes captures hers while I taste her?

It’s everything.

I could live for this.

The way she shudders and jerks when I keep going, long after she’s come. I want to see how many times I can make her break in a day. I want to keep having her look up at me all doe eyed and dazed. Like the lust and her pleasure run so deep that she forgets who it is she’s fucking. I want to watch the way she lazily reaches out for me after I make her come and gathers me against her body. I want to feel her cling to me, begging me to slide my cock into her swollen cunt.

It’s soft and swollen and slick. The things is impervious to overuse. Nothing like a useless dick. It can keep going.

And it does.

I just keep fucking her with my tongue, and my fingers, and my dick. I keep making her come, and I keep her all to myself. She never makes it to brunch.

She never makes it out of The house.

All weekend, I keep her. I keep her close, with my fingers bruising her hips and my mouth leaving marks all over her boy, claiming her for mine and mine alone.

She is still insisting that this doesn’t mean anything. She says that it can’t.

And I think she’s trying to tell me that whatever was between her and Weasley never ended before we got married.

Which is fine. That is something I can deal with at a separate time.

Because, I spend the entire weekend buried between Grangers legs like it’s a job. No. I spend my time nestled between her thighs like it’s the only thing I need to survive. Because money, drugs and food are not enough. They mean nothing.

This.

Grangers sweet, tangy sex is where it’s all at.

So. When she rolls out of bed on Monday morning, telling me to let her go, to get my hands out of her hair and out of her knickers, I might have sulked like a petulant child.

I might have hissed when she kicked my shin and I might have scowled at her as she got ready for work.

I’m listening to the sound of the shower and I am watching her get dressed and I’m panicking.

Because she’s leaving and I’m going to be left alone to do nothing. I mean, that’s fine. Because I can paint, but I need breaks from that. I need to take breaks to breathe and drink and eat but the only thing I want to do is breathe and drink and eat her.

It’s angering. Because this isn’t right.

The point is, we don’t belong here. We’re stuck in a marriage that was never borne from love and we’re stuck in a home that neither of us chose but it’s what we got and we’re stuck with it. And we’re stuck with each other.

And the point is, I would have chosen her. In some life or another, I would choose her. Because I am hers. My magic is tethered to hers. There’s an algorithm that the brightest witches and wizards who work for the minister put together and it says the same thing.

I belong to her. Because when I peered in between her thighs and I kissed my way up the inside of her leg, I found that heart shaped freckle, there on the inside of her thigh. And it doesn’t make any sense, but somehow, I know its because I am right. This is the universes way of telling us to give in and to be.

When she’s gone and the house is cold and empty and the light cannot penetrate the curtains or my mind, I leave the house.

The point is, I can’t figure out why Granger wanted me in the first place. How could a witch who was already dating another wizard want me? She’s hardly around and she’s always hated me.

But she gave in to me too easily, too eagerly.

It doesn’t matter that she kept saying it was a mistake. Because, she kept doing it. She spent the entire weekend letting me taste her and have her and she just kept taking. She takes and takes and in return, I end up feeling like I need clarification.

The point is, I can’t sit around this house one more day without settling something.

So, I leave the house.

One by one, each set of eyeballs roll toward me as I step into the Atrium Café inside of the Ministry of Magic. One by one, the chatter dies down and in their place, whispers are born.

One by one, the whispers about Malfoy fill the café as my eyes scan and find Granger. She’s huddled around a little round table with Ronald Weasley. His arm is thrown around her shoulders, his hand is tangled in her hair and he’s hunched over, speaking for only her ears.

She’s staring down at the table, her eyes distant. Her little eyebrows are scrunched up and her little mouth is pursed into a little flower and i know, I know, she is remembering the feeling of my mouth on her body. She’s is remembering her confession of wanting me more than she wants him.

But she doesn’t move away when he lifts his other hand to her cheek and forces her to look up at him.

There’s six million little legs crawling up my body. They’ve taken control, these ants. Because, they’re making me itch and they’re making me stalk through the café as the eyeballs roll around the room and watch as I approach the table where Granger is letting Weasley touch her and all I can do is listen to their commands.

When I reach them and slap a hand over my neck, she looks up at me.

Her eyes widen as they take me in. I’m dressed in a white undershirt, speckled in paint and my slacks hang loosely around my hips. I’m full of terrible flaws, but when she looks at me like that, I forget them all. Because she looks at me like I’m something unique and as terrible as I am, she finds me attractive.

I shake my hair away from my face as Weasley’s eyes sharpen on me. He leans back in his chair, his hand still on her. His fingers are still latched onto her hair and he takes his stupid eyes and he scrutinizes me. He thinks Granger is too good for me. And, she is.

But she has me and I won’t give that up.

“That’s my wife, Weasel.” The entire café falls silent. Everyone has died and this place is now a cemetery as my quiet words seem to echo off of the walls. This graveyard holds the ghosts of our pasts and the memory of our bodies betraying everything we were ever taught.

I can see the rage flare in his stupid face. Because, he goes red and his eyes grow hard as his hand palms the back of her neck.

He’s doubling down and he says, “Only on paper, ferret.”

“Ron,” Granger sighs and makes to move, but Weasley isn’t going to let this end smoothly.

He tightens his hold on her neck and his thumb swipes over the curve of it. The same curve that my mouth sucked and nibbled at.

My head tilts as I run my eyes over her. She’s remembering my mouth on her. She’s remembering the way it felt to give into our wants and needs and how it threw her entire world off balance

My eyes narrow in on her mouth. “I think it’s a little more than that,” I smirk and look her in the eye. “Isn’t that right, love?”

Weasley catches my implication and pushes to his feet. “Piss off, Malfoy.” He leans his hands onto the table and sneers at me. “She doesn’t want you. She was forced into marrying you. Are you actually pathetic enough to believe that it means anything? That, somehow, there is more between the two of you?”

He isn’t finished He’s going to get it all out, now. The opportunity has presented itself to him and in front of the world, he’s decided to vomit all of his words and all of his hate onto me.

“Because, it’s been me, Malfoy.” He spits. “It’s been my bed she crawls into for the past three years. It’s been me who has had her heart in my hands. Her body isn’t meant for you. It never was. Because it’s mine. It doesn’t matter what the legal documents say, because I still get to have her in all the ways you never could.”

It only takes a moment for my body to react.

My leg lifts and my foot kicks into the edge of the table. The table slams into Weasley’s gut, knocking him to the floor and the air from his lungs.

Granger screams and leaps out of the way before I jump on Weasley. He’s gasping for air and fighting to breathe and I make it worse.

Because, I like to use my hands.

There’s the feeling of flesh and bone against my knuckles. I can hear the bridge of his nose break and I can feel the blood pouring out of his nose and into my skin, in between my fingers. It bleeds into the miniscule lines of the top layer of my skin and I can feel it splattering against my face as I continue to beat the man.

I’m hitting him and I’m making him take back all of those hateful words. Because the idea of Granger being with anyone else hurts.

“Draco,” Granger’s calm voice breaks my concentration and my hands falter, they slip with all of the blood and land on either side of Weasley’s head as my eyes flick up to meet hers.

Granger is looking down at me, a mix of anger and resolve on her pretty little face. She holds out her hand and with her eyes, she asks me to take it. She uses her eyes and tells me to come with her.

For just a moment, I hang my head and close my eyes. I have to force the little legs running all over my body to calm down. They’re overly excited by the rush of blood my body takes. The adrenaline is still pounding through my system and it’s taking all of my energy not to do anymore harm. Weasley is coughing and spitting out the blood, his hands covering his face, protecting himself from further harm.

And for a second, I actually feel a shred of remorse.

So, I lift my head and nod my head before I take her hand and let her help me to my feet.

“Oh, Draco.” She sighs and shakes her head. She sounds so sweet, I want to eat her up. She shakes her head and looks up at me with the big sunset eyes and her walls are all the way down as they gobble me up.

I take her little face in my bloody hands and cradle it. I should be angry with her for continuing whatever it is between the two of them, but I can’t. I look at her face and her big eyes and I can’t be angry with her. I see her eyes and I know she’s mine. Somehow, she has always been mine.

“It’s over.” I tell her. “Whatever you had with him, it’s over.” And she just nods up at me, her eyes centering in on my mouth before I kiss her.

In the middle of the Ministry, I declare the inevitable. Because, I can feel her melting into me, all of her resistance is fading away as she slowly gives in.

I forget all about Weasley and when we break apart, I nod once before wrapping my hand around hers. I’m taking her home with me and she wont be able to fight me. She wont want to.

I forget all about Weasley until Granger shouts his name. I forget all about Weasley before his fist reaches out and hits me against the jaw.

I forget all about everything as my body falls and my face slams against the tiled floor.

And as the world goes black and the skin on my brow splits open, my blood spilling onto the floor, I remember one thing.

….

“It’s always going to be him, isn’t it?” Ron is near tears as he watches me tend to my unconscious husband.

Draco’s long body is draped over the couch, his head lolled to the side, his long leg hanging over the arm of it. We’re in Harry’s office, where I levitated his body, so that I can heal him in private.

Harry’s face is pursed in disapproval as he looks between Draco and Ron as he tends to the broken nose that is still gushing blood.

I sigh and sweep a lock of hair off of Draco’s forehead. “He’s my husband, Ron.” I argue but really, he is so much more. He always has been. He always will be.

“He’s a fucking psychopath!”

Harry sighs when Ron’s face jerks out of his hand as he leaps off of Harry’s desk and glares at me. He can see the way my fingers are gentle against Draco’s face. He can see it in the way I take great care to heal his wounds, that he has lost me. He lost me over three years ago when I went back to Hogwarts. He lost me the minute Draco stumbled upon me in the middle of a panic attack. He lost me the second Draco decided to put all of his attention on me.

Even after I lost Draco, I was always going to be lost to anyone else.

“He is not!” Whatever Draco is, it isn’t psychotic. Whatever he is, it’s never stopped me from gravitating toward him. And And I know he wont ever be stable, but it doesn't make him less appealing, less loveable.

“He is and you still want him! He hurt you and you still want him. It’s sick.”

I don’t respond as I seal the gash on Draco’s brow with the tip of my wand. Look, I didn’t plan on being forced to marry the boy who broke my heart. I didn’t plan on having to face the nightmare that is his family for the foreseeable future. I tried to fight it. I did. Because I was so angry at him, I didn’t want to be his again.

I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to see me as anything else but unattainable. Because that is what he was for me.

Because to him, I was nothing. I didn’t exist.

I expected him to shun me the way he had been for the past three years. Instead, he took to me like a moth to a flame. He followed me around with that same wild-eyed look and stalked me like his prey.

It was impossible not to give in this weekend. He was there, in all of his manic glory and the realization that I never stopped loving him was painful. Because he was there, right in front of me, touching me and wanting me and how could I say no?

How could I lie to him?

“He’s just going to hurt you again.” Ron’s voice breaks through my reveries. They shatter the glass bubble I climb into whenever I stare at Draco. His features were hard and harsh, though the beauty of him was undeniable. His eyes expressed everything he couldn’t say.

His eyes always undo me.

“We don’t know that, Ron.” Harry argues. “He’s living with Hermione. His father’s hold on him is loosening more and more each day.” His eyes slide over to Draco, who is still out cold on the couch and I can see the wheels in his mind working. “I think he feels trapped.”

“Are you actually defending him?” Ron shouts in disbelief and Harry winces. “Harry, he just attacked me for having a relationship with Hermione before this stupid law passed.”

Harry shrugged and I can’t help but close my eyes and massage my temples with the tips of my fingers.

“Draco doesn’t just look at me like his property.”

“Bullshit.” Ron hisses, cutting me off.

“I think he loved me.”

Ron throws his head back and laughs, derisively. “You’re mental.”

“Ron, don’t.” Harry scolds him. With a sigh, he opens the door to his office and gestures outside. “Let’s go get you healed and give them some time alone.”

Ron glares over at me for a moment before he heads for the door. But he pauses before he can leave and he looks over at me. “This,” He points to me and to Draco. “This wont last. Don’t expect me to be there for you when it all blows up in your face.”

All I can do is roll my eyes as he and Harry leave, quietly shutting the door behind them.

I stare down at Draco and feel my bones melting into something useless, as I admire him. Because even with all of the bruises and all of the blood, all of the torment that you can see in his eyes, even when he’s asleep, I cant stop myself from wanting to keep him. I can’t help but feel like even in a room full of art, he would be the most beautiful and intriguing thing in the room to me.

My fingers graze his jaw, just barely, admiring the hard bone and muscle under his bruised skin when he gasps.

Draco gasps and his eyes pop open.

His wild eyed gaze falls on me and stun me into place.

For a second, we stare back at each other, wide eyed and frozen.

And then his hand jerks out and thread painfully into my hair.

He pulls me down and his lip curves into a sneer as my face hovers over his before he growls up at me,

“You.”

….

My body falls hard onto the floor, pain cracks into my face. But, my mind drifts up into the edges of the universe. It floats for lightyears. It drifts forever and ever until it lands on a moment.

It lands on a moment that’s been taken from me and given into the heavens like a fading, dying star.

There’s Granger and me. In this moment, this memory, there is Granger and me and we’re alone in the school library. This isn’t he same nugget of gold I’ve been sitting on. This isn’t the secret looks of admiration from afar that I used to spend my time seeking out as a youth.

this is a moment from a different time.

This is a moment that somebody tole from me.

And it is me and it is her and it is our mouths greedily tasting the other. It is our hands roaming the expanse of our bodies, memorizing the lines and curves an divots.

And it isn’t just a dream. I have been dreaming about Granger for years and this isn’t a dream.

Trust me, I know.

Because there is her and there is me and all of the things in between that keep pulling and pushing at us.

I used to kiss her and hold her and she used to let me.

I don’t know if it was for one night or a lifetime but it’s there. That memory of familiarity is still there when I thread my hands through her hair and when she slaps at me with all of her pent up anger.

Her eyes are wide and full of fear as she stares down at me, as I hold her close enough to smell her skin. I’m taking all of her data, all of her smells and textures and I’m stuffing them into my mouth so that I can taste the memory of her again and again. I’m forcing the flavors onto my tongue, iliciting the truth.

“How long?” I ask her, my eyes are stabbing hers and I’m demanding all of the answers she refused to give me before. I’m her fucking husband for gods sake and she still refused to tell me that she belonged to me once before.

Possibly forever.

“What?” She asks, her little voice trembles as I force her head to tilt to one side. I’m exposing the neck that belongs to me and I’m forcing my eyes to trace the lines so that they can rememberrememberremember.

“Eighth year,” I force the words out of my lips as my mind struggles to stay on task. “How long?”

I watch her throat bob as she swallows. I watch as her lips mouth silent words before she finally spits them out. “Not long.” She shakes her head but winces when my hold on her hair tightens, forcing her to stay still.

“We only dated for a short period of time but you wanted me.” She rasps. “You wanted me and you had me for only a little while, and I—” She stops her rambling and presses her lips together and forces her eyes to close.

Granger’s eyes are shut but tears are pushing past her eyelids, clinging to her lashes before they fall onto my face. Like little drops of rain, they land on my face and I loosen my grip on her hair and lift my other hand to her chin, gently pinching it between my fingers as I study her face.

Yes, I can see it now.

There, between her lips and her eyelids, it’s there. She tried to occlude it all away but she failed. Because it’s all here for plain sight.

“You loved me.” My words tickle her lips and she nods, fervently. And she’s been in pain. Her heart was broken by the same boy who she was forced to marry.

And, she was right all along. This thing between us, this marriage? It is not going, at all, like I thought it would.

It’s so much worse.

[yourladysorceress]

Alright, let's talk about Ronald Weasley in Dramione fanfiction. I've been reading for years, and what I've noticed is that there is so much Ron bashing. He cheats on Hermione, he's an asshole, his flaws are exaggerated, and he’s distinctly unlikeable. There are very few fics where Ron doesn't leave a bad taste in the reader's mouth, or he's left to the side entirely.

Okay, but why does this happen? And who cares? It's Dramione. The author has no responsibility to make Ron likeable.

And I agree. In a Dramione story, Ron isn't the focal point of the narrative, and depending on whether it's an AU, rewrite, postwar, etc., he may be more or less important to the overall plot. But if the goal is to create a compelling story between Hermione and Draco — two people who are enemies, who don’t know each other — then Ron is integral to that shift.

One obvious reason to bash on Ron is to create a foil to Draco. Ron is a pureblood, like our handsome blond boy. This can be a really cool way to make them similar and set them up ideologically against Hermione. How does Ron respond to certain wizarding traditions? How does Draco? Why? I get that not every fanfic sets out to be a 300k-word philosophical thesis on bigotry (thank you, smut authors), but when one does, Ron is still rarely used.

Ron is also either a former or current love interest of Hermione’s, and that, too, is a literary device to compare them. Ron is demanding, immature, dumb, and can’t make her come in bed. But Draco? Oh, Draco is understanding, emotionally evolved, intelligent, and can find the clit like it has a GPS signal. Of course, not every fic makes Draco a saint, and that’s fine — but as long as Ron is worse, Draco looks better in comparison. You also have an inherent parallel between them: rich/poor, only child/sixth son, Slytherin/Gryffindor, etc., that can be used so well.

Ron becomes a villain in some stories. And I'm not saying that’s always a bad thing! I like subverting established characters to fit a story, that’s literally what fanfiction is. Some stories do it well, too. But when it’s lazy, when he’s just a two-dimensional roadblock to get Hermione into Draco’s arms, it doesn’t work because it isn't earned.

I know that fanfiction isn't a polished literary form, and I have no hate or anything like that for authors who choose to use Ron this way, which is why I'm not listing any examples. But I do think it’s useful to examine Ron’s characterization and ask if we can achieve the same goals without destroying him and undermining the heart of the story.

Okay, so what is the goal? Usually, a Dramione fic wants to show that Draco is the best person for Hermione (yes, there are exceptions, it's fanfiction, but humor me for a moment). The author has a distinct intention to convey that in spite of all their differences, there's some mystical or logical or God-given reason that Hermione and Draco are meant to be. Inevitably, the question of "why not Ron?" has to be addressed.

It’s a disservice to Draco if one of the main reasons Hermione ends up with him is because all the other men around her are dull, boring, unmotivated, lecherous (I’m looking at you, Cormac), or literally the worst. The poor girl looks around and thinks, “Dear Merlin, I guess the only choice is Draco!”. It’s boring. And Draco does have so many good qualities! But lots of people have good qualities. If Ron is the other main contender for Hermione’s affections, then it’s a better story if he’s a well-thought-out, sensitive person. He’s been her friend for years. For all intents and purposes, he is the better option. And who’s to say the war didn’t also change him for the better, as fics often like to show it did to Draco? If you are going to make Ron a love rival, then do so without making him a ginger strawman; it will make the love story more impactful in the long run.

There’s such a wealth of narrative opportunity in Ron that goes completely unused because the easiest way to move Hermione toward Draco is to make Ron awful. But let Draco earn her. Let Hermione have a real reason to choose Ron — and still choose Draco anyway. Isn't that the story you want to read, too?

tl;dr even if you don’t like Ron, he has more to contribute to a narrative than being the mean, drunk, freckled idiot who can’t take no for an answer.

[oxfordelise]

| AO3 | FFN | A Dramione one-shot full of thoughtful gestures, meaningful silences, and slow-burn fluff. What starts with a single flower changes everything. Hermione Granger never expected thoughtfulness from Draco Malfoy, but with each small, kind gesture, he offers her something Ron never has: the sense that she’s truly seen. Petal by petal, Hermione uncovers not only a soft side of Draco but also a new path for herself.

[thatdramionechick]

Dramione Fics I read in January:

Amor Vincit Omina by Twin_Flame_Blues (288k words)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39735819/chapters/99482019

Days at Malfoy Manor by seagull_in_the_sunset (287k words)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52005598/chapters/131512735

Creep by cr0ftisprocrastinating (144k words)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42831693/chapters/107599440

The Portrait of Draco Malfoy by SilverDragonGemini (172k words)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56903314/chapters/144689641

[yourbiggestfan2020]

Love a good Ron bashing. ❤️

[cal-coathanger]

I HATE ron bashers with everything in me. (Explained)

Has absolutely none of them noticed that there's a REASON he gets jealous? It's so insanely simple, his parents loved his siblings more than him, his parents even loved HARRY more than him. He has ALWAYS been second best. Hermione preferred harry, proffesors preferred harry. He was nothing but just another weasley, and Harry's best friend to everyone. His siblings all had something to be proud of, Bill was the oldest and a curse breaker, Charlie studied dragons in another country and was a prefect and quidditch captain, percy was smart and a prefect, the twins always had eachother and opened their own shop, ginny was the only girl. Ron had nothing. He got hand me downs, he got compared to his more successful siblings, I mean for fucks sake he didn't even get his own wand.

Hermione was incredibly smart, top of her classes. He liked hermione, and she always seemed to like harry better. Harry was known by everyone in the Wizarding world before he even knew it existed, harry immediately became a seeker, harry was well liked, harry got to compete in the triwizard tournament (and yes, we know that harry didn't want to, but the point is that RON wanted to, so he could have something to be proud of), harry could do no wrong in the eyes of Dumbledore, harry was rich, harry had constant fame and glory.

Ron had none of that, he wasn't as brilliant as his friends or family, he had nothing to be proud of, he was always in the background.

He wasn't as horrible friend, he wasn't a whiny baby, he shouldn't have just "sucked it up", because I swear to god, if anyone else had to be put in his place they'd feel the exact same way. He actually put up with the cards he'd been dealt extremely well.

And God no one can blame him for not knowing how to handle most of the situations he was put it because how was he SUPPOSED to know how to? He was still maturing, he was still learning, he never had actual guidance. The only way he could learn most of the time was when he messed up and got consequences for it, no one explained to him, no one taught him better, no one sympathized with him or even made an effort to understand him.

Even so, half the time people write ron bashing because they feel he gets in the way of whoever they feel like shipping Hermione with. Which is BULLSHIT.

Anyways thanks for reading, live laugh love ron weasley ☝️

[mochamoony]

okay dont get me wrong, i love the golden trio and their friendship, blah blah blah etc.

BUT

Gryffindor to Slytherin Harry fics w ron bashing.... >:)

[starcrossedrose]

It’s hard to get back into reading Dramione fanfiction without running into Ron bashing at every turn.

Seems like every Dramione fic that pops on my FYP has Ron bashing written all over it.

And Ron is my favorite character so it really doesn’t help…..

[miramightymouse]

Done with BSP and Whewwwwwwwwww. It very much had me laughing the same way DM&TMOOBIL did. I think I’m finally in with Ron bashing because he had me very annoyed in this fic.

[thedramionelibrary]

An Imperfect Situation by @erininoctober

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit

Length: 306k

After indulging Ron’s request to take their newly-founded relationship to the next level, Hermione finds herself pregnant just a month after the Battle of Hogwarts. In a post-war society where Pure and Half-blood babies are highly desired, she finds her best option for resolving her situation lies in the hands of the person she trusts least in the world: Draco Malfoy.

This fic is SO real and well-written that I had to rec it even though I'm not done reading it. The depiction of the way that the war has impacted both Draco and Hermione is very realistic and handled very well.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Drabble 28

Draco grinned as Granger stepped into his office for a change. She hasn’t visited him since the day she died. She used to visit him daily. She used to bring him scones and coffee and now she brought him her body.

“Good, I was just thinking about lunch.” Draco pushed away from his desk and loosened the tie around his neck.

“I’m not here to have sex.” She frowned, locking the door behind her.

“Do blowjobs count as sex?” He asked, standing from his chair. She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest as she approached his desk.

“We need to talk about yesterday.”

He dropped his hands from his tie and nodded. “Which part? The part where I got into a bar fight, or—”

“How about the part where we found out someone is trying to kill you?” She cut him off, her eyes narrowing in on him in challenge.

He grimaced and shook his head. “How about we talk about the fact that we’re going to get married, instead?”

She paled slightly, her arms uncross and her hands fidget at her sides. “I didn’t say yes.”

“But you didn’t say no, either.”

She sighed. “I literally just ended an engagement, Malfoy. Agreeing to marry you now would feel wrong.”

His lip curled as he pushes himself around his desk. “Why?”

“Because we just started dating.” She threw a hand up, exasperated.

He caught her hand and pulled her into him. “We’re not just dating. We could never just date.” He didn’t just date. Not her, not ever.

She lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Marriage isn’t forever.” She’s thinking about her parents, again. About her own failed relationship to her almost husband.

“It is for a Malfoy. It is for me.”

She’s so beautiful, the way she blinks up at him. Her tender little mouth pulling to the side, the way she’s not actively freaking out about him wanting to marry her. But she isn’t going to bend so easily to his will. He knows this, she knows this.

Still, he wants her. Despite his fears and his doubts and her plans to have red headed, freckled children. She could have his, as many or as little as she liked. He didn’t mind, as a matter of fact, the idea intrigued him.

He recalled spilling his seed into her last night and the night before, and how she didn’t panic. She didn’t mention it. She must be taking a potion.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He squints down at her, at the lip she keeps dragging between her teeth.

She doesn’t ask him to go on, she just stares at him, anticipating whatever he might come up with. He’s been known to be unpredictable, sure, but she never seemed to mind.

“I’ll drop the marriage thing,” For now, left implied. “If you let me move you out of that little dungeon built for goblins that you call a flat.”

Granger huffed and threw her head back, staring at the ceiling to his office. It was charmed with a brilliant night sky. “I can’t.”

She can’t afford to live anywhere else. She turned down all of the endorsements offered to her, she left the war broken and penniless. But she insisted on making her own way.

He was used to women wanting more than just his company. He was used to people wanting to pick little pieces of him off and take them home like a souvenir. Sometimes, he gave them willingly, drunk and desperate for something that resembled affection.

Dinner at the swankiest part of town, take it.

A necklace made of pearls or gold, have at it.

A weekend in Paris, fine.

As long as it came with something that resembled love and adoration, even if just a glimpse.

Granger looked at him with the kind of adoration he didn’t realize he had craved until he met her. Again, as grown up and wadded up paper towels that had been used and abused with the snot of an entire society’s war. All of the hate and neglect flung from their greedy little nostrils and into their young, paper thin skin. They were lost little children of war and some of the scars were there before the first curse was shot from a wand. Long before the dark lord had returned, the war had already began and Draco was so fucking shriveled and twisted, he didn’t know what love felt like. Not hers.

But now he did and it was addicting, she was addicting. Draco was addicted to her and her body, her voice, everything that was Hermione Granger was his weakness. It was his chosen vice.

And that was when he started to loathe the sultry looks from across a bar or a party, where they saw his name and his money before they saw the broken shell of a man that he was.

Granger saw it all. And she still loved him. Adored him. Even when she chose Weasley over him, she adored him. He knew this because of all those unspoken words and looks that clung to the molecules of oxygen between them, constantly, perpetually.

Sometimes, he knew it because she would find ways to talk to him, to seek him out or owl him if he was at home or out and about.

Like how she had picked up a new book and thought he might enjoy it. It was why he enjoyed the book on her desk so much. It was why he had taken to muggle poets. They were so sad and broken, powerless, void of magic.

Only love and angst and hate filled their veins, it was beautiful.

“Of course you can.” He finally said, smiling down at her. “If you are worried about the money, don’t be. You can pay me back whenever you want.”

She laughed derisively and straightened her neck to glare at him. “I will never be able to pay you back, don’t you get it!”

“Granger, love.” He grinned and slid his hand to her neck, clasping onto her, hauling her closer as he lowered his lips to her face. “You already have.”

“How?” Her eyes fluttered shut, the way they always do, as their lips brushed.

“You came back to life for me.”

“Ugh,” she pulled away and squeezed her eyes shut. “There you go again!” She turned away and covered her face. “You keep saying all of these crazy things. These crazy, perfect things!” She looked stricken with fury and awe as she dropped her hands to her side. She looked up at him. “How did this even happen?” She stepped back into him, her hands went to his cheeks, cradling his face like it was spun from the clouds, like she had caught something rare and unique. “How did you turn into this?”

“And what is this, love?” He tilted his head, absorbing some of her warmth into his cheek.

“It’s…it’s everything.” Life and death, sinner and saint. It was all here, between them, fragmented souls strewn between two bodies. “You’re everything.” She was near tears, but refused to let them fall.

He shook his head. “I’m just yours.”

“All this time,” she sighed. He kissed her mouth once, gently. “All this time it should have been you.” And then she was pulling him back to her. Her lips were soft and firm, pushing his apart, drinking him in.

He broke the kiss, took a deep breath and said, “Is that a yes?”

She growled against his mouth and hauled him back into her, her tongue demanding and teasing. That little mouth and that little tongue could get him to do anything, he was certain of it. Soft and warm. Everything about this witch was soft and warm.

He took it as a yes.

Later, he would tell her that he was already weeding through the department, waiting for a call to come in, watching the staff through the eyes of others. Sometimes, he would move around the department unnnoticed, angrily scowling, while listening to conversations hushed and murmured.

Other times, he’d pick the weakest minds to break into and watched everyone from their perspective.

Most people talked about him and Weasley fighting. They whispered about the gossip of Draco stealing the Golden Girl. Of corrupting her, manipulating her.

They poured their sympathy into Weasley, unaware of the reality they were ignorantly and willingly blind to.

Nobody spoke a word about the need to kill him. Goldstein quivered in his presence, he winced away from Granger. Weasley slowly ripped him apart with his eyes, his knuckles always tight, his hands bundled into fists. He avoided Potter and sometimes, he watched Granger. Sometimes from behind a wall, or a door.

Eventually, Draco would need to bring Pansy into the mix. She was a master at manipulation. She was a master at gossip. Attracting it, spreading it. It was her specialty.

But for now, he would handle the situation.

For now, he was enjoying the feel of Grangers hands on his body as she lowered herself to her knees and wrapped her mouth around his cock. For now, he was going to absorb all of the goodness that leaked out of her. From her soul, her hands, her mouth. Let it spread into his cock, his groin, his heart. He’d take it all and give it back to her again and again, more and more.

He’d give it all if that was what she wanted.

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 20/20 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage Sex Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/ Orignial Male Character, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Original Potter Family Characters (Harry Potter), Theodore Nott Additional Tags: Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), Parental Severus Snape, Good Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Tom Riddle is his own warning., James and Lily are bad parents, I'm Sorry, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Ron Weasley Bashing, Hermione Granger Bashing, Dark Harry Potter, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, BAMF Harry Potter, Seer Luna Lovegood, Occlumency (Harry Potter), Harry Potter Has a Twin, Red-Haired Harry Potter Series: Part 1 of Harry Potter and the Sounds of Hogwarts Summary:

Freaks don't deserve to speak. And being a freak is all Harry Potter knows.

Surprised by the reunion with family he had been told never wanted him and startled by the acceptance of magic in the wizarding world, Harry finds himself curious and in love with his new life. Everything is wonderful - well, as long as he ignores the ugly sneer on his twin's face, the disgust in his father's eyes, and the bearded man who has fucking twinkling eyes.

Instead, he focuses on the airy blonde-haired girl that makes him smile, the steel-eyed boy who defends him, and the clumsy plant lover who is probably the bravest person Harry has ever met. He also can't help but focus on the shadowy figure that seems to float behind his Defense professor and the stone of life singing to him from its hiding place in the castle.

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. J.K. ROWLING DOES. I'm just having fun

[daisiesnotroses]

[wildlyconfusingaffairs]

I updated four fics today. Enjoy